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<\|description\|>Eclipse Namesake:The cosmic event when the moon covers the sun Age: Young Adult Gender: Male Species: SkyWing/NightWing hybrid Personality: Eclipse has the fiery temper of the SkyWings, but does his best to present a more mellow front and the poise of a prince. He does have a bit of a short fuse that can burn down at the worst of times even if the anger doesn't last long. He likes the mysterious air of the NightWings and tries to imitate that more than the aggression. Overall he's a creative and quick-witted young dragon that enjoys the vigor of life and is a bit of a daredevil. Short Bio: Eclipse's parents were a bit of an odd pair, a NightWing and a SkyWing isn't the most common of relationships. His father found his mother unconscious on the shoreline after a powerful storm knocked her from the sky. He had never really seen a NightWing before and found himself enamored by her jet black scales and the stars under her wings. He pulled her from the waves and helped her get back on her feet; discovering that she had Left her tribe due to some conflicting beliefs. He invited her back to the Sky Kingdom and after some convincing she agreed. Being the brother of Queen Ember, and a capable leader in their army, no one really questioned him beyond their initial surprise. After a short time they had Eclipse who spent his childhood learning battle moves from his father and the mysteries of the world from his mother. Other: Eclipse is proud of his aerial prowess and combat abilities. He has a fair amount of book smarts as well, but when it comes things that require more precision he's pretty much hopeless</s> <\|message\|>Skua Eclipse was right, after all. Then again, he didn't have to deal with chattering dragons almost nonstop today. He rolled his eyes, trying not to think of Cerise and her constant bickering. That old lump of scales didn't know what the definition of fun was. But, her words had left what felt like ants crawling under his scales. While this festival was meant to bring dragons together, he could still spot some overly cautious glances from several individuals. Three moons, some could even be considered hostile. Skua sent a glare at a NightWing that stared at him for too long before focusing on the smell of roasted meats. That was something that boded well, at least. Once he had gotten a whole roast boar, he took it over to where Eclipse ate and settled down. He flicked his tail as his fangs sank into the savory cut. "No news, other than what I heard about Queen Ember's speech," Skua mumbled around a mouthful. He felt bad for the queen. It was the first time a member of royalty had held so many dragons as guests in her kingdom, and tension was already crackling between a certain few of them. The NightWing stared at him again. Skua let out a growl. "Maybe all the old grayscales are right," he muttered. "Nothing good can come from putting all of Pyrrhia in one kingdom..."</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse frowned slightly at his friend, sensing the nervous energy he had. He knew tensions were on the rise between several of the tribes, but he didn't want to entertain the idea that it could grow into something worse. "What do you think Sunrise?" he queried towards the smaller dragon, "You're always reading all those scrolls." He saw the glare Skua sent towards something out of his line of sight out of the corner of his eye, and felt a brief flash of concern for what might have drawn the other's ire. Sunrise shrugged slightly, "Well there's never really been a time when everyone completely got along. There's always someone who is unhappy with the way things are and wants to change things "for the better," and ends up starting conflict." As she talked, she reached a claw out and skewered one of the birds that Ash had in front of him. Eclipse sighed, seemed like nothing could ever be easy. "Hopefully Queen Ember will have something good to say." His eyes flicked back towards Skua at his growl, and he twisted his head slightly to see a NightWing quickly snapping their head away. He shifted subtly to position himself in between the nosy dragon and Skua, effectively blocking the NightWing's view. He knew how much Skua hated people staring at him, usually because of how he looked, given who his parents were. That didn't give them any right to gawk though. He wasn't wholly SkyWing, and people didn't stare at him any more than any other members of the royal family. "I wouldn't worry too much," he flicked Skua lightly with his tail, both to grab his attention and as a friendly gesture, "the Sky Kingdom has excellent soldiers if something does happens." He flashed a smile at the blue-scaled dragon; attempting to lighten the slightly tense and somber mood.</s> <\|message\|>Skua Sunrise seemed to share the same skepticism as he did. Though, he wasn't sure if he should be more at ease because of the fact that someone agreed with him, or if he had every reason to be more action. His eyes darted about once again. Maybe he should just calm down. No one looked suspicious-- even that NightWing had darted off somewhere. Maybe he was just getting stared at because he looked weird. Even though dragons tolerated each other more than before, hybrids were rare. Three moons, perhaps the NightWing was just admiring his scales. They were a dashing shade of silvery blue and oranges and yellows, weren't they? Skua returned his attention to Eclipse, nodding his head at his words. "Of course," he said, lifting his head arrogantly. "As if I would ever let anything happen to Queen Ember. Or anyone, really. Especially you," he chuckled as he teased his friend, bumping his wing against his side. Eclipse's words did resonate with him, though. Queen Ember better have something good to say in order to ease whatever tension there was between the intermingling dragons. A flash of red and orange scales in the sky caught his attention. Skua glanced up to see that at least a dozen armored SkyWings had filtered out of the palace. In the middle of the guards was a large, very pale orange SkyWing. The midday sun made her scales look almost like a mixture of liquid gold and fire, and the golden necklaces around her long, graceful neck only added to her beauty. "Attention all!" roared one of the SkyWing guards as they soared towards the pulpit that looked over the celebrations. "All dragons must gather in the arena to listen to Queen Ember's word!" Skua had already taken a bite out of his boar, and he swallowed quickly before he looked back at Eclipse, Sunrise, and Ash. "Well, at least we're here already," he commented.</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse grinned at the teasing from his friend, knowing that despite the tone, Skua really meant what he said. "No one I'd rather have following me around and looking intimidating." Despite the tensions in the air it did seem like most dragons were having a good time with the festivities. There was plenty of food and interesting conversation to be had, so that hopefully boded well for the coming days. He continued eating tuning into the snappish back and forth that was going on between Ash and Sunrise, but that was about the usual for the two of them. He could hear snippets of conversation going on all around them. Dragons talking about mundane things like what time the festival was going to end or what food they should get. However, there were also those that talked a bit quieter about rising hostilities among the tribes. He hoped it was just talk. He was snapped out of his thoughts as he saw Skua glance skyward and heard the call of one of the many SkyWing soldiers flying with Queen Ember. Must be time for the speech, he was certainly interested in what his aunt had to say about everything that was going on. She looked radiant as ever with the various pieces of jewelry catching the sun and sparkling across her scales. His head tracked her across the sky as she headed for the high part of the arena where she addressed the crowds. He turned his attention to Skua at his comment, "That certainly makes it easy. No need to fight through the crowd to get a good spot to listen." He shifted slightly so he didn't have to crane his neck around to see the queen as she settled onto the pulpit and the guards took up their positions nearby. Some in the sky and others on the ground. Her head held regally Queen Ember gazed across the assembled dragons as they flooded into the arena, a faint smile across her face. As she stepped forward and addressed the crowd, "A warm welcome to the Sky Kingdom to each and every one of you. It is our pleasure to be able to host a festival for all of the tribes of Pyrrhia." She gestured towards the crowd with her claws as she spoke, the smile never dropping from her face, "It brings me great joy to see so many dragons from so many walks of life gathered together; appreciating each others company." Eclipse let himself sit back and relax a bit. The calm nature of the Queen's stance setting his mind more at ease as she continued her speech.</s> <\|message\|>Skua It was kind of hard to believe that his mother served Queen Ember as a guard. All of the other armored SkyWing guards appeared fierce and intimidating, and Skua remembered his mother as kind and understanding. To think that she might have been as stern-faced as one of such guards in her youth. He shook his head, chewing and craning his head as he turned to peer at Ember. The queen was a young queen, her scales unblemished from any fights as her neck swung from side to side at the watching dragons. "There may have been times where dragons of all tribes have gathered like this, but I'm sure that no one can remember a festival as grand as this one!" Queen Ember's voice chimed. "May the celebrations continue, and may we go on to relish each other's company for--" "Look out!" One of the guards at her side had cut through the queen's speech with a terrified screech, her massive crimson wings flaring as she attempted to dive towards Queen Ember. But it was too late. Something whizzed through the air, something small and shiny, and streaked towards Ember's ornamented long neck. Its edge stuck itself into her underscales, and the queen screamed in pain as blood tarnished her neck. Skua's jaw dropped open as he leapt to his feet, his wings expanding as he prepared to take flight towards Queen Ember. But the many SkyWing guards crowded around her, so much so that Skua could no longer see her collapsed body. More and more dragons screamed and roared in panic around him. The sky came to life with the multicolored hides of SandWings, SeaWings, NightWings alike, and more SkyWing guards poured forth from the palace in a panic. "Everyone stay calm!" yelled one of the SkyWings as others flew in loops around the frightened dragons. The dragons that hadn't been able to flee in time shoved against each other, their eyes wild with fear and uncertainty. Skua's wings itched to take flight, to take into the sky and search for whoever had attacked the queen. But the sharpened, angry, desperate gazes of the SkyWings tasked to keep them calm proved that he could do no such thing. If he rebelled, he'd probably be pinned and arrested as a potential suspect. Not that he would do such a thing to Ember! He had Ash, Sunrise, and Eclipse as witnesses! Skua turned to look at Eclipse, his eyes bright with anger and uncertainty. "Did you see that?" he hissed. "The... the thing that hit Queen Ember-- it looked like a dart, or a knife, or something sharp. And it hit her in the neck. Three moons, do you think she's even still alive?! Who could have done such a thing?!' He was practically roaring at this point, his serrated claws digging into the earth and his tail lashing to and fro. I feel so useless!</s>	<\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse felt a swell of pride for both his aunt and his father, who had served as a guard for the queen for as long as he could remember. He wasn't sure if his father was among the guards with her right now, but he couldn't imagine he'd be anywhere but with his sister on a day like this. Unfortunately they weren't really close enough for him to be able to discern which dragon was which under all of the armor they wore. His dad took a great deal of pleasure traveling around with Queen Ember and pestering her when she wasn't busy with her many duties she had to preform every day. Queen Ember's voice was clear and strong despite her youth and general inexperience. He knew he'd never be able to stand up in front of this many dragons and give a speech like this. He glanced at the dragon's sitting around them, almost all of them were watching with rapt attention at the words that rang out across the arena. Before they were abruptly cut off as something struck her in the neck and she fell back into the guards with a scream; red covering the pale orange. He could see the guards moving in to surround her, some facing her and others facing out frantic eyes on the crowds below. His entire body froze and the screams of the other dragons around them faded into the background as everyone began to panic around them. His dad was up there, their Queen had been struck with...something, he hadn't be able to see exactly what, and might be bleeding out as the crowds pushed and shoved in order to escape. With the chaos there would be no way to find the one responsible, they could go after his dad or his mom next, and he had no idea what he could possibly do to help. He snapped out of his panicked thoughts, just barely catching the tail end of what Skua said to him. "I...I don't know." he looked backwards towards Ash and Sunrise who were staring with horror and shock on their faces; as were many of the other dragons who hadn't run. He looked up towards where the soldiers were circling, attempting to calm the masses. They didn't seem to be having much luck. His voice finally caught up to his thoughts as his head whipped around to Skua, slightly frantic, "That's my family up there! I have to get to them, what if the dragon responsible is still here and goes after someone else?!" He could see the pent up frustration in his friend's stance as he spread his wings went to take off into the sky, and froze again, this time with indecision. He needed to know if his family was okay, but he didn't want to leave his friends here in case something happened. He looked back and forth between the chaos on the pulpit and where Skua stood lashing his tail, completely unsure of what he should do.</s>
<\|description\|>Eclipse Namesake:The cosmic event when the moon covers the sun Age: Young Adult Gender: Male Species: SkyWing/NightWing hybrid Personality: Eclipse has the fiery temper of the SkyWings, but does his best to present a more mellow front and the poise of a prince. He does have a bit of a short fuse that can burn down at the worst of times even if the anger doesn't last long. He likes the mysterious air of the NightWings and tries to imitate that more than the aggression. Overall he's a creative and quick-witted young dragon that enjoys the vigor of life and is a bit of a daredevil. Short Bio: Eclipse's parents were a bit of an odd pair, a NightWing and a SkyWing isn't the most common of relationships. His father found his mother unconscious on the shoreline after a powerful storm knocked her from the sky. He had never really seen a NightWing before and found himself enamored by her jet black scales and the stars under her wings. He pulled her from the waves and helped her get back on her feet; discovering that she had Left her tribe due to some conflicting beliefs. He invited her back to the Sky Kingdom and after some convincing she agreed. Being the brother of Queen Ember, and a capable leader in their army, no one really questioned him beyond their initial surprise. After a short time they had Eclipse who spent his childhood learning battle moves from his father and the mysteries of the world from his mother. Other: Eclipse is proud of his aerial prowess and combat abilities. He has a fair amount of book smarts as well, but when it comes things that require more precision he's pretty much hopeless</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse nodded shakily at Skua's words, still trying to wrap his head around everything that had happened. He was grateful for the initiative of his friend, even if it was a bit forceful. "This is going to mean war with whichever tribe is responsible," he looked at the faces of the dragons below them as they quickly made their way up into the sky, "and whichever tribes they're allied with." Any one of them could've been responsible for the attack on Queen Ember, but at the same time, most of them were innocent bystanders. Many of their faces were filled with shock and sadness, and if a war started so many of them would die, even though they did nothing to cause it. He shook his head angrily to banish the thoughts away. He let Skua lead the way through the guards, slightly surprised that the one that attempted to stop them didn't recognize either of them. Though the stress of the situation probably made things difficult. As he landed on the pulpit beside Skua, he could see the healers nearby, trying to do anything they could to help their queen, but the pain seemed to grow every second she laid prone and gasping. Her claws scrabbled against the ground, leaving deep gouges in the stone. He easily recognized his father crouched close enough to have his snout pressed to Ember's forehead, but far enough to not get in the way of the healers that rushed around. The deep reds and oranges of his father's scales seemed pallid and his eyes were clouded as he whispered soothing words to her that were much too quiet for Eclipse to hear. At Skua's hiss he pulled his attention away from his family for a brief moment to stare at him. "Why would someone do this?" he shook his head, "What is there to possibly gain?" The surprise was beginning to give way to a blood boiling anger; a rage that he usually tried to keep well in check, but this time he planned on using it to discover who was responsible. A sudden flurry of activity from the healers drew his attention back to the crowd. The gasping from Ember had grown quieter; her tail and claws stilled in their frantic motions. The only movement was the blood bubbling up between her teeth and pooling on the stone underneath her head. There was a beat of still silence before pandemonium erupted as roars and cries rose from the assembled dragons. Eclipse immediately shoved his way through the crowd, an incomprehensible roar of rage and grief causing several of the guards and healers to jump backwards in surprise. He pushed past the rest of the healers to crouch next to his father who hadn't moved from his position next to Ember; small tremors causing the armor he wore to clank slightly. He draped a wing across his father's back; knowing there was nothing he could possibly say to make this any easier.</s> <\|message\|>Skua This was almost too much for Skua to handle. The grief that pooled together from the spectating dragons was heavy in the air. Yet, alongside the grief and pain, there was a quiet rage that hung thick like blood between them. Eclipse was right. Whoever was responsible had just started a war between tribes. After so many years of peace and prosperity... he trembled, the mix of emotions swelling in his chest. He couldn't even bring himself to comfort Eclipse and his father. He wasn't related to them, and he only had a percentage of SkyWing blood... Suddenly, Ember's body became still, and the smell of death quickly flooded the air. The Skywings all screamed and roared and wailed in unison. Skua ground his teeth together and snarled. "This means war!" he roared, quite literally bristling with fury. The SkyWing healer, Cloud, ducked his head. "Did... did no one see anything?" "The dart came out of nowhere..." one of the SkyWing guards whimpered. Skua's scales felt like needles. "We need to find whoever is responsible, whatever it takes. We're wasting our time hanging our heads and feeling sorry for ourselves!" Most of the SkyWings glared at him, but Cloud shook his head. "It may prove more difficult than we think." "Why?" Cloud carefully lifted the sharp object that had struck Ember. It was covered in blood, but there was something else there. Something waxy black was splotched over the dart, and Skua wrinkled his nose. "This is unlike any poison I've ever seen before. It's not SandWing venom, and it's not dragonbite viper venom... and look, it's eaten the scales around the puncture wound on Ember's neck." Skua craned his neck to look closer. Cloud was right. Ember's scales had twisted and deformed among the blood, as if they had begun to melt off her body. "Then we have no exact way of knowing where the poison came from..." Skua muttered.</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse listened to the conversation going on between Skua and the healer, Cloud, while keeping himself crouched next to his father. His legs were starting to cramp up a bit, but he wasn't about to move. He frowned in confusion at the dart that was being held in between the healer's claws. He'd certainly never seen anything that looked like that or had the effect on a dragon's scales that this substance did. Maybe Sunrise would know something, she spent all that time reading through old scrolls. He heard a familiar roar and glanced up to see his mother, Brightstar, soaring quickly down to the pulpit; light catching on the gleaming white scales under her wings and bouncing off her jet black hide. Despite not being directly related to the Queen she still commanded a great deal of respect, and the guards lowered their heads; stepping back slightly to allow her to move closer. A deep sadness filled her eyes as she looked down at Ember. The Queen had been one of the first dragons to truly welcome her when she'd first come to the Sky Kingdom with Storm. Eclipse felt himself sag slightly in relief, surely his mother would know what to say or do, she always seemed to know more than anyone else did. He drew his wing back and pushed himself to his feet, opening his jaws to say something, but quickly snapping them shut again at a minute shake of Brightstar's head. "Blackbird and Jet," she called out to two of the guards nearby, "Please take Storm back to the palace." The two SkyWings moved to help Storm to his feet and gently lead him away from the body of Ember. "Take care of him, I'll be there shortly." She took a step towards the healers and began a hushed conversation with them; occasionally gesturing towards Ember and the crowd below. Eclipse moved to stand next to Skua once again, "What should we do?" He bumped his wings against his friend as he shifted uneasily, "Should we try to figure out what the poison is?" He sighed, suddenly exhausted. This festival was supposed to celebrate peace and instead it was going to be a catalyst for war.</s> <\|message\|>Skua At the appearance of Eclipse's mother, Skua had become much more quiet. He had roared and stamped his feet enough; he wasn't a mewling dragonet that had to be told to be quiet. Yet, his tail still lashed wildly, and his bright eyes blazed with fury. The two of them were very much being ignored. The SkyWing guards in the pulpit muttered among themselves, then split off to the dragons keeping watch over the clusters of dragons in the arena. They spoke among each other as well, and then they turned to the spectators and roared something. Skua couldn't hear their voices over the sound of the wind, but the clusters of dragons slowly began to take into the sky. Skua began to wonder why exactly the SkyWings were letting them go, then thought again. If no one knew where the dart had come from, then they had no leads. They would find the culprit eventually, though. Skua eyed Eclipse when he was approached. "You can bet on it," he growled. Though, where would they start? The healers and the royals seemed to only be interested in conversing with one another, and the rest of the guards looked to only know as much as they did. Most, if not all, of them looked confused about the source of the poison. "Where do we start? The healers don't even know where the poison comes from. If they don't know, then who does?"</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse sighed as the guards began to allow the crowds to make their way out. "I don't know," he turned to look at Skua who seemed to be getting more agitated as time went on, "I was thinking that maybe Sunrise might know something. She spends all her time reading old scrolls, or maybe my mom, but I don't think she'd tell us anything. Other than that I really have no idea." He dug the tips of his claws into the stone of the pulpit; anything to keep him remotely grounded with everything going on around them. He didn't really think they'd have much luck in finding out who was responsible or what this poison was. They were just two young dragons and if the healers and every guard who was here knew and saw nothing, what could they possibly do. Despite this he couldn't imagine just sitting around and doing nothing while the tenuous peace they'd lived in for years crumbled to the ground around them. As his thoughts ran circles around each other he noticed his mother had finished whatever conversation she'd been having with the guards, who began to hustle about and prepare for whatever came next, and she began to approach where he and Skua stood. She looked more weary and unsure than he'd ever seen her before and that sent a jolt of nerves across each and every one of his scales. If Brightstar didn't have any ideas then, in his mind, their chances of solving this crept closer to zero. Her eyes swept across the both of them, "I can't imagine either of you know much more than the guards, but if you happened to catch anything that they missed I'd love to hear it." Eclipse shook his head, he had been looking back towards Ash and Sunrise when everyone had begun to panic. All he'd seen was Ember falling to the ground. "Skua said something about a dart," he looked questioningly towards the silvery dragon, "but we already knew that. Did you see where in the crowd it came from? That could help."</s> <\|message\|>Skua Skua frowned at his friend's reply. So, no one would really know anything about this poison. He tapped a serrated claw against the floor of the pulpit, glaring to the side. His mind rattled with different types of thoughts. Who? Why? It just repeated in his head over and over, only driving forward the anxiety in his chest. The flash of black scales caught his eye, and he raised his head, blinking at Brightstar. "A dart came from the midst of the crowd, but I didn't see anyone winding their arm up to throw it. It just... flew out of nowhere. Now that I think of it, I didn't see anyone that might have had bad intentions, either." Skua found this hard to admit, but he wasn't going to make anything up. One of the things that came from his mixed bloodline was the SkyWings' excellent vision, but even his eyes couldn't pick anything up. "I'm sorry," he bowed his head towards Eclipse and Brightstar. "If only I'd have been more observant..."</s>	<\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse leaned a shoulder against Skua, silently making sure the other dragon knew he didn't at all blame him for not being able to notice anything, and gave him a faint smile. His mind was still reeling, running through all manner of questions and possibilities for what could have happened and why someone who do this. The only though that came continually to the front of his mind, no matter how hard he tried to shove it away, was that someone wanted to start a war with the Sky Kingdom. Brightstar simply nodded her head, looking lost in thought for a moment, "It's alright dear. Even the guards who were right up next to the Queen saw nothing, so I shouldn't have expected either of you to have seen any more than they did." She stepped past the two young dragons, briefly brushing her wings against Eclipse, "Go get some rest. It's been a trying day." She smiled warmly, if slightly strained, before leaping from the pulpit and soaring down to the crowds below. Despite what his mother told him, Eclipse found that he could not rest, even as the sun fell in the sky and the stars began to twinkle cheerfully he found himself pacing the length of his room in the palace; like some kind of caged beast. He let out a long sigh before stretching his wings, maybe a flight would do him some good. He was sure it wasn't the smartest idea to be out alone when someone was attacking royals, but he didn't care at that point, his room felt stifling and his darker scales would hide him well enough. Pushing open the doors to the balcony attached to his room he took a deep breath of crisp night air before leaping into the inky blackness and spreading his wings. The wind whistling by and rushing across his scales drove the meddlesome thoughts away as he soared down before looping back up and around towards the mountains. As he glided near the mountain that held the palace his keen vision caught a flash of movement on the stone slightly below him. He came to a stop, flapping his wings to keep him aloft, and stared at the place where he'd seen it; waiting for anything else. After a brief moment he saw the moonlight catch on black scales and for a second he thought it was his mother before remembering seeing her inside the palace with his father. No other NightWings lived in the Sky Kingdom, so they definitely should not be here. He moved slightly closer, but not close enough that he was at risk of being attacked, "Who's there?" he put more force into his voice, like his father did when ordering the young recruits around, "The festival is over. You shouldn't be here."</s>
<\|description\|>Eclipse Namesake:The cosmic event when the moon covers the sun Age: Young Adult Gender: Male Species: SkyWing/NightWing hybrid Personality: Eclipse has the fiery temper of the SkyWings, but does his best to present a more mellow front and the poise of a prince. He does have a bit of a short fuse that can burn down at the worst of times even if the anger doesn't last long. He likes the mysterious air of the NightWings and tries to imitate that more than the aggression. Overall he's a creative and quick-witted young dragon that enjoys the vigor of life and is a bit of a daredevil. Short Bio: Eclipse's parents were a bit of an odd pair, a NightWing and a SkyWing isn't the most common of relationships. His father found his mother unconscious on the shoreline after a powerful storm knocked her from the sky. He had never really seen a NightWing before and found himself enamored by her jet black scales and the stars under her wings. He pulled her from the waves and helped her get back on her feet; discovering that she had Left her tribe due to some conflicting beliefs. He invited her back to the Sky Kingdom and after some convincing she agreed. Being the brother of Queen Ember, and a capable leader in their army, no one really questioned him beyond their initial surprise. After a short time they had Eclipse who spent his childhood learning battle moves from his father and the mysteries of the world from his mother. Other: Eclipse is proud of his aerial prowess and combat abilities. He has a fair amount of book smarts as well, but when it comes things that require more precision he's pretty much hopeless</s> <\|message\|>Dreamseeker She always loved to fly. The night swathed her scales, rendering her almost invisible, even in the moonlight. It was the perfect opportunity to swing by the SkyWing palace in search of any clues to what had happened to Queen Ember. She had come to the Sky Kingdom to take part in her festival, which started with music and food and laughter and ended with screams and questions and tears. She tried her best to be careful in getting too close to the palace; she didn't want to attract any attention, especially the night after the assassination. Yet, her curiosity and concern had gotten the best of her, and she seemingly caught the eye of a rogue SkyWing that had been flying about at this time of night. Dreamseeker flinched at the curtness of his words. Oh no. She didn't want to be stopped by a guard-- or worse, a member of royalty. From this distance, she couldn't tell who it was that had started to approach her, but she wasn't keen on sticking around to find out. She tucked her wings close to her, diving away from the strange SkyWing and towards a nearby patch of woods. She had no chance at outflying a SkyWing-- even from here, she could tell his wings were much larger than hers. Her last resort was to lose him in the trees.</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse watched as the dark form dove away from him towards the swathe of forest that rested at the base of the mountain, "Hey! Stop!" If someone was skulking around they could know something about what happened to Queen Ember, and he wasn't about to let them get away. He owed that much to the rest of his family. He flapped his wings hard, gaining altitude instead of directly following the other dragon downward. The extra height would give him extra speed, so he could hopefully catch whoever this was before they vanished into the night. He felt immensely grateful for the rigorous training his father had put him through to improve his flying skills as he climbed high into the air and positioned himself so that he could fall into a steep dive. He couldn't help a slight grin at the rush of wind as he tucked his wings into a spiral and fell back into the dive; quickly gaining speed and distance on the black scaled form he could just catch sight of nearby the canopy of trees below. His own dark scales allowed him to blend well into the deep blue of the sky, while his SkyWing blood gave him the pinpoint vision needed to track the slight silver and white accents he could see on their scales. The other dragon was small and certainly fast, which slightly threw off his trajectory. He still fell close enough that he was able to snap out his wings and buffet the smaller dragon across the neck and jaw. "Stop running!" His voice came out as more of a low growl, fully intending to intimidate them into stopping if he couldn't do so physically. As his wings caught the air and pulled him slightly back into the sky, he kept a close eye to see what the other would do. He honestly wished that Skua had been out here with him; his friend was actually a guard and certainly would've known more about what to do in a situation like this.</s> <\|message\|>Dreamseeker Perhaps Dreamseeker was hoping for too much when she thought that the shadows would whisk her away from view. But when she felt the SkyWing back on her tail-- no, not on her tail, but so close to her he was able to touch her with his wing-- she couldn't help but gawk. Oh no, no, no! You're supposed to go away! she thought haplessly, her wings flapping harder as she dove straight into the forest. Maybe she could lose him if she ran. Maybe-- O-ow! she winced as she landed. Her front right leg wrenched in such a way that it sent shooting pain up her wrist and forearm. In a panic, she tried to rush off into the underbrush, but the splitting pain made her let out a little whimper. Well, then. There was no getting away not. Alright, Dreamseeker. Just try to make yourself look scary. Maybe, if you look scary enough, he'll just run away and leave you alone. She heard the SkyWing land behind her. Dreamseeker whirled around, showing her fangs as she flattened her ears. "G-go away!" she snarled as viciously as she could. Her wings flared as her tail lashed back and forth. "Just so you know, I'm a NightWing! I-I can tell the future and read minds! Oh, a-and I'm an animus! Yeah! So fly away before I turn you into a salamander, or something like that!" Oh yeah, Dreamseeker. Totally scary.</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse felt the ground under his claws give a bit as he landed in the soft forest dirt and heard the faint whimper come from the NightWing as he got closer. He felt slightly bad at having caused her to get injured in the fall, but since that his intent in the first place was to get her on the ground he supposed it counted as a success. He took a step closer even as she bared her teeth at him and flared her wings. He was much bigger than she was, but he knew never to underestimate an opponent no matter how unassuming they might be. He flared his own wings, the moonlight coming through the canopy catching on the galaxy-like patterns on their underside. He raised his neck up and bared his teeth in a low snarl. A snarl that almost turned into a snort at her stuttering attempt at a threat. "My mother is a NightWing and she doesn't have any powers like that." He didn't let his guard down but looked over her closely. He had no idea what an assassin might even look like. He narrowed his eyes, tail twitching nervously, "Why were you around the palace so late?" he felt a growl building up in his chest, "Were you responsible for the death of the Queen? Trying to come and kill another one of us?" His tail went from twitching to lashing at the thought of standing in front of the one who killed his aunt. His claws dug into the ground and he prepared himself to lunge forward at even the slightest move from the NightWing.</s> <\|message\|>Dreamseeker Her eyes widened when she saw the size difference between the SkyWing and her. He was a male, so it was to be expected, but what surprised her the most was the pattern of silver scales on the underside of his wings. He's part NightWing, she realized before he even said so. Moons, this was bad. Usually other types of dragons would be unwilling to mess with one of her kind. But this dragon knew exactly what she was capable of. And he very much thought that she was less than scary. Her whole master plan was going awry, and there was nothing she could do. If only she could tell the future. But what if she saw herself being thrown in a prison cell? Would that bring her any comfort? His words did interest her, though. Dreamseeker perked up, still on the defensive even as she realized something. He thought she was the one that killed the queen? "Wait, wait, wait," she arched her neck forward to peer at the other dragon. "I didn't kill anyone. I was trying to figure out exactly what happened to Queen Ember. I mean, I know she got killed and all, but the guards didn't say anything specific, and the whole commotion just kept on getting worse and worse--" She realized she was blabbering. Dreamseeker took up a more relaxed position in an attempt to appear less of a threat. Her wings tucked closely against her sides as she shifted into a sitting position. "I'm Dreamseeker, by the way," she murmured. "I didn't mean to cause such a fuss. I thought you'd want to arrest me. Or worse, kill me."</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse As the NightWing, Dreamseeker, introduced herself and relaxed her stance Eclipse let himself do the same. He folded his wings in but still kept his head held high, "I'm Eclipse, Queen Ember was my aunt," he huffed out a breath, a bit of smoke and flame puffing into the air in front of him, "If I found out you were somehow responsible you would be dead," he said perhaps a bit too harshly, it'd been a rough day, and chasing down a rogue NightWing was not how he expected to spend the good majority of his night. The trees mostly covered the light of the stars and moon, so if she did have something to do with it and attacked him, well he didn't think anyone would find his body soon. He banished those thoughts with a shake of his head. He quickly assessed her now that she wasn't flying or threatening him. She certainly seemed much too small and timid to be responsible for something as horrific as Queen Ember's death, and she said she was looking into it. He felt a flash of confusion, "Why do you want to figure out what happened to her?" he turned his head curiously, "What does that have to do with you?" Maybe she knew something that none of the SkyWings did. She could have been closer, she could have seen something. Before he let his hopes get to high he focused fully on Dreamseeker, waiting to see what she might have to say.</s> <\|message\|>Dreamseeker Well, it wasn't like she expected the SkyWing's serious attitude to dissipate. If anything, he was more confused than before. Dreamseeker caught a glimpse of his thoughts; he still perceived her as a threat. If she attacked him, there was no way that she'd be able to kill him, no matter how hard she would fight. She frowned a little at him, shaking her head. "I'm no threat, so no need to be worrying about me being responsible. I can't get my claws on anything that might kill a queen, no matter how much I'd try. Why would I want to kill Queen Ember anyways?" she asked him as she curled her tail around her feet. Her eyes didn't waver from his proud posture, ducking her head even more as she lifted up her injured foot further from the floor. It still radiated pain, and she could feel it swelling. His next words were as sharp as teeth. Dreamseeker couldn't help but feel a little injured, flicking her tail slightly. "I don't know about you, but I value the peace among the tribes just as much as any other dragon," she said a little hotly. "I was hoping to get a lead on what killed her. You still don't trust me, do you?"</s>	<\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse opened his jaws to respond to her comment before snapping them shut. He didn't remember saying she might be responsible out loud. That was a problem for later. Just add it to the long list of problems he needed to deal with. "I don't know why you'd want to kill her, I don't know why the dragon who did kill her wanted to," he could feel that same rage bubbling up, not at Dreamseeker, but just the situation as a whole, "I just know that someone killed a member of my family, and for all I know there was no reason at all!" His voice grew to a near shout towards the end of the sentence as all the frustration of the day finally overflowed. He turned away from the NightWing for a moment, regaining his composure with an angry huff and a deep breath. He turned his head back towards her at her rather hot comment; noticing her favoring her leg and made a mental note that, in the event she proved trustworthy, to help her out with that. "I value peace but I know the one who did this definitely doesn't," he frowned at her as she asked about trust, "You haven't exactly given me a reason to trust you. You were sneaking around my home in the middle of the night. That's not exactly trustworthy behavior." He took a moment to just sit down and think; gazing up through the trees as if the stars above him might have the answers he needed. They knew nothing, not who did, not how, not why, and no one had even started anything else. What were they waiting for? The weakness that came with Ember's death would be enough for another tribe to attack them, yet nothing had happened. Maybe they were waiting for another moment of vulnerability. He sighed, the anger he felt giving way to a deep sadness. He hated the fact that this was what he had to be concerned about. If the next coming dawn would bring even more death to the people he cared for. He looked back towards Dreamseeker, "Did you find anything?"</s>
<\|description\|>Eclipse Namesake:The cosmic event when the moon covers the sun Age: Young Adult Gender: Male Species: SkyWing/NightWing hybrid Personality: Eclipse has the fiery temper of the SkyWings, but does his best to present a more mellow front and the poise of a prince. He does have a bit of a short fuse that can burn down at the worst of times even if the anger doesn't last long. He likes the mysterious air of the NightWings and tries to imitate that more than the aggression. Overall he's a creative and quick-witted young dragon that enjoys the vigor of life and is a bit of a daredevil. Short Bio: Eclipse's parents were a bit of an odd pair, a NightWing and a SkyWing isn't the most common of relationships. His father found his mother unconscious on the shoreline after a powerful storm knocked her from the sky. He had never really seen a NightWing before and found himself enamored by her jet black scales and the stars under her wings. He pulled her from the waves and helped her get back on her feet; discovering that she had Left her tribe due to some conflicting beliefs. He invited her back to the Sky Kingdom and after some convincing she agreed. Being the brother of Queen Ember, and a capable leader in their army, no one really questioned him beyond their initial surprise. After a short time they had Eclipse who spent his childhood learning battle moves from his father and the mysteries of the world from his mother. Other: Eclipse is proud of his aerial prowess and combat abilities. He has a fair amount of book smarts as well, but when it comes things that require more precision he's pretty much hopeless</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse watched his mother carefully as Dreamseeker explained what she knew, trying to gauge any kind of reaction she might have. He watched her brow furrow and felt a slight sinking feeling. If she didn't know what it was then they'd probably have to go and try to get the information themselves. He'd never been to the rainforest, but he'd read enough scrolls to know that some dangerous creatures lived there. Not the RainWings, but other things. Clearly given what he saw happen to Queen Ember's scales it must've taken a great deal of trouble to get a hold of whatever this poison was. He gave Dreamseeker a nod and encouraging smile as she glanced his way before looking back towards Brightstar, "What do you think?" he kept his voice low, hoping not to wake his father, "Do you think it's worth looking into?" Brightstar continued to stare hard at Dreamseeker, "Yes, this is certainly more information than we had before," she frowned, deep in thought for a moment, "I've never heard of any kind of creature that spits a poison like that, but it is certainly worth looking into." She looked down towards where the smaller NightWing was favoring her leg, "Come. We'll have one of the healers look at your leg, and you can tell me where you read this information." With that she stepped out of the room, waiting in the hall for the two young dragons to follow. Eclipse looked back towards his father for a moment, who looked grief stricken even in sleep, his wings and claws twitching with restless energy. Storm and Ember had been closer than most siblings he knew, and if he was hurting this much from losing his aunt, he couldn't even imagine what the older SkyWing must be feeling. He didn't care what it took, he'd find the one responsible for hurting his family. As he turned and followed his mother out he whispered towards Dreamseeker, "You certainly got her attention. If anyone can get the right dragons to look into this it's her." He gave her a faint grin and offered her his shoulder to lean on as they began the walk towards the healers.</s> <\|message\|>Dreamseeker Dreamseeker fought to keep the slight smile on her face, though it was difficult with the way Brightstar was looking at her. It was as if she was being deeply scrutinized from the point of her horn to the tip of her tail. She was extremely tempted to just duck behind Eclipse and avoid the other dragon's look, but Eclipse's encouraging smile made her steel her nerves. Oh moons, was she trembling? Could they tell she was? Brightstar's gaze went down to her injured leg, and Dreamseeker looked at it, almost forgetting it was there in the first place. Her heart had been beating so fast, she hardly felt the pain anymore. But what came out of Brightstar's mouth were not words of scorn or dismissal. Instead, she was very much interested in what she had to say. She perked up as her eyes glimmered. Did she really believe her? If only she wasn't so nervous-- she could have checked herself. Her frantic thoughts subsided when she heard Eclipse whisper. Her smile a little more strained and nervous, she accepted his motion and leaned against him. "Thanks," she murmured back as she sent a glance towards the dragon that still slept. Something inside her stirred, and she couldn't help but feel saddened by the sight. The poor dragon was clearly tortured, even in his sleep. "I'm just glad she trusted me. I was worried that she wouldn't."</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse As Eclipse and the two NightWings began the walk to the healers, past a few guards who immediately snapped to attention at the appearance of both him and his mother, he responded to Dreamseeker's concern, "My mother is very good at reading others, insightful," he let out a slight huff, "She would have been able to tell if you were lying I think." He smiled lightly as he looked towards where Brightstar lead the way, "She is not a dragon to immediately pass harsh judgement without knowing everything she can." They rounded the corner and down a short staircase that led to the healers chambers. Thankfully there were no injured dragons that couldn't go back to their homes after the stampede that occurred after the attack, cuts and bruises were among the worst that he'd seen. He took a moment to appreciate the emptiness of the room, if he knew anything about some of the allies of the Sky Kingdom, they would definitely be seeking some kind of revenge. As the trio walked in Eclipse recognized the SkyWing that had been with Queen Ember, Cloud, who had several scrolls open across the floor and desk near the back of the room and the dart that had killed the queen nearby. Their brow was furrowed in deep concentration as one claw ran lightly across the words inked onto the pages. "Cloud," Brightstar called out, startling the other dragon out of their thoughts, "Would you come take a look at this poor dear's leg. I believe it's sprained." As the healer gave a nod and pushed the scrolls quickly aside; rushing about to grab the necessary supplies to wrap the leg, Brightstar turned back to face Dreamseeker, the her gaze softer than it was before, "Now if you wouldn't mind telling me where you read about this poison?" She sat down lightly with her tail wrapped loosely around her front legs, almost cat like in a way, her expression cautiously hopeful.</s> <\|message\|>Dreamseeker Dreamseeker found herself relaxing as Eclipse told her about his mother. That was a relief. She had met much harsher NightWings, well-studied or not. Many of them had a huge, almost aggressive ego. She had somewhat of an ego as well... well, not an ego, perse, but she was proud of where she came from. She tore herself from her own thoughts, giving Eclipse a comforted smile as she allowed herself to be guided down a set of stairs. As they descended, she expected to hear voices of injured dragons or of worried healers, but to her surprise, she was faced with an almost empty room. As Cloud began to tend to her leg, Dreamseeker turned to Brightstar. "I don't remember," she replied, disappointed in herself. She didn't think it'd be so important to remember. "I'm sorry, it was just something that I skimmed over. I never knew it was going to be this necessary to keep in mind." Once her leg was bound with gauze, she set it gently upon the floor. It still hurt, though not as much. Dreamseeker gave Cloud a grateful nod before she turned back towards Eclipse and Brightstar. "I'm sure it will be easy to find a venom spitting creature in the rainforest, though. Just ask the dragons that live around there. Who knows, maybe the RainWings will help out!"</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse felt slightly disappointed at not knowing exactly where the information had come from, that made it a little more difficult to verify, but it was still more than they knew before. He didn't have any idea what they would do about getting to the rainforest, not many dragons traversed the area beyond the RainWings that lived there. "That's alright," Brightstar gave a faint sigh, "It is something to look into and I'm grateful for that." She sat lost in thought for a moment. The scribes at the palace could potentially have some kind of scroll that mentioned these creatures, but she didn't know how long it would take them to find the information they needed, and by then it might be too late to waylay those who wanted revenge. Even if they didn't know who they wanted revenge against. "It might be a bit of wishful thinking that the RainWings would help us," Eclipse looked between his mother and Dreamseeker, "They've never been interested in helping out with anything before." Admittedly he only knew what he'd read about them, but the scrolls were usually fairly accurate and most of them had similar accounts. They would just have to see when they got to the rainforest; not that he would be going. He didn't think there was any way he could convince his parents to let him go out into virtually unknown territory after an assassination. He was surprised there weren't guards on him every second of the day. Brightstar stood and began to make her way towards the stairs, "I'll make sure the guards are aware of your presence so you'll have no trouble whenever you wish to leave." She turned and made her way, presumably, back to Storm and a restful night sleep. "What're you going to do now?" Eclipse turned his full attention on Dreamseeker, "Think there's still something else to find?" He was curious as to what this young dragon would do since she seemed to have much fewer restrictions on where she could go. Maybe she'd go to the rainforest and try to find this creature since she was so interested in figuring out the cause of Queen Ember's death.</s> <\|message\|>Dreamseeker She caught a wave of slight disappointment from both parties, which made her droop her wings slightly. Dreamseeker wished she could help more, even if Brightstar said that she was grateful for the information. Even Eclipse stated that the RainWings would be unlikely to help because they usually cared mostly about their own things. That in itself was true. She gave a frustrated flick of her tail. Who else would know anything about the rainforest if not the dragons who lived there? She was sure that if they asked nicely, they would help--especially if a good queen had been assassinated using something from the forest itself. Dreamseeker nodded as Brightstar left before she turned to Eclipse. Her eyes widened at his question. What was she going to do? She couldn't necessarily go back home; she swore on her pride as a NightWing she'd never get close to her family again. But if not there, where? The Sky Kingdom wasn't a safe place, and the Kingdom of Sand was far too... sandy. And yet, there was another problem. Was she just going to sit on her tail and let this happen? Even now, there might be more dragons plotting and seeking to undermine Pyrrhia's peace. The very thought made her scales itch. "I... I don't know," Dreamseeker whispered, blinking. "I'm not sure if I could just stand by and let this happen. I-I mean, Queen Ember was assassinated. And I know what happened, and you know what happened, a-and... I'm not sure if I can just go ahead and ignore this. Maybe," she sucked in a breath, "maybe... just maybe, we should help. We could be heroes, you know? Actual heroes, not standing on the sidelines and waiting for help. I hate stories like that. Dragons waiting for heroes, waiting for someone to save them or hoping something bad wouldn't happen." She paused again, fidgeting a little. "S-sorry. I kind of got ahead of myself."</s>	<\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse gave a light chuckle at Dreamseeker's enthusiasm, "It's alright. I'd like to be able to do something like that, but I don't think I'd ever get my parents to agree to it with what just happened." After a final nod towards Cloud, whose eyes occasionally flicked over to them, he turned and walked back up the stairs; no longer concerned about the guards since they should be aware of Dreamseeker's presence now. Some of them in the hall, dragons he didn't immediately recognize, gave him a respectful nod, and a faintly suspicious glance towards Dreamseeker, as he passed by in the direction of his room. "My friend, Skua, said some similar things," he smiled fondly, "Not about being heroes really but just not sitting around and doing nothing. He's a bit fiery and temperamental but he means well." He could hear quiet, steady breaths coming from his parents room as they passed by, and he pushed the door to his room open. Stepping inside, the lights were still burning faintly, and he settled down on one of several plush rugs that dotted the floor. He gestured with one wing around the room, "Make yourself comfortable. It'd feel wrong to just kick you out in the middle of the night." He knew that if some of the other guards caught her flying around the palace at this late hour they would probably be less than friendly. The ones in the palace were aware, but that didn't mean all of them were, and despite his better judgement, he found himself liking the small, idealistic NightWing. She was very different from many of the dragons in the Sky Kingdom and it was refreshing. "I'm sure there are probably dragons here that would go to the rainforest in a heartbeat. We all want to know what happened and why." He crossed his front legs and wrapped his tail tightly around him wondering what kind of argument he could make to his parents. Maybe if he convinced Skua to go and Dreamseeker came with them, surely they'd feel better if there was a group of them. He let out a soft sigh, resting his head onto his claws.</s>
<\|description\|>Eclipse Namesake:The cosmic event when the moon covers the sun Age: Young Adult Gender: Male Species: SkyWing/NightWing hybrid Personality: Eclipse has the fiery temper of the SkyWings, but does his best to present a more mellow front and the poise of a prince. He does have a bit of a short fuse that can burn down at the worst of times even if the anger doesn't last long. He likes the mysterious air of the NightWings and tries to imitate that more than the aggression. Overall he's a creative and quick-witted young dragon that enjoys the vigor of life and is a bit of a daredevil. Short Bio: Eclipse's parents were a bit of an odd pair, a NightWing and a SkyWing isn't the most common of relationships. His father found his mother unconscious on the shoreline after a powerful storm knocked her from the sky. He had never really seen a NightWing before and found himself enamored by her jet black scales and the stars under her wings. He pulled her from the waves and helped her get back on her feet; discovering that she had Left her tribe due to some conflicting beliefs. He invited her back to the Sky Kingdom and after some convincing she agreed. Being the brother of Queen Ember, and a capable leader in their army, no one really questioned him beyond their initial surprise. After a short time they had Eclipse who spent his childhood learning battle moves from his father and the mysteries of the world from his mother. Other: Eclipse is proud of his aerial prowess and combat abilities. He has a fair amount of book smarts as well, but when it comes things that require more precision he's pretty much hopeless</s> <\|message\|>Skua The next day... "WHAT?!" roared the larger, very angry male hybrid. Dreamseeker and Eclipse had woken up early in the morning to catch Eclipse's friend before her went to his shift. Skua, or so Eclipse called him, was very much surprised to see a NightWing with his friend-- especially when he found out she was the one that had been staring at him during the whole festival. The morning had been very much peaceful until they spoke to him, and the more they explained, the more his temper flared. His sharp, yellow eyes kept glowering at her as if she had dumped a bunch of salt into his stew. SkyWing guards filtered past them, walking up and down the corridors as they moved to take their positions. There seemed to be more guards than the day before, she remembered. They probably didn't want to take any risks the day after Queen Ember's death. "So, let me get this straight," Skua's lips twitched with a snarl. "You go to bed, and you find this NightWing flying about the vicinity of the palace, and you don't even wake me up before you go chasing her tail?!" Dreamseeker couldn't help but step a little closer to Eclipse for support. "It's not like I would have attacked him!" she told him. "Not to mention, we have more important things to think about-- such as our next course of action." Skua sighed as he shuffled his wings. She caught worried thoughts in his mind; possibilities of Brightstar or Storm getting injured, Eclipse getting killed, what would happen to his parents, what this meant for Pyrrhia... With a war on the horizon, it won't take very long for tribes to start making alliances. Dreamseeker shuffled his wings as well. That was why they had to hurry. "So, what's the plan?" Skua finally asked, his eyes firmly planted on Eclipse. "Are we going to roam around Pyrrhia and ask who's responsible? 'Cause that'll take forever." "I have another idea," Dreamseeker proclaimed. Skua's eyes dashed to her again, his gaze anything but friendly. She couldn't help but quiver. "We could go to the rainforest ourselves. The RainWings will probably be more willing to speak to us than a bunch of mean-looking SkyWing soldiers in armor, don't you think?" "The RainWings won't talk to anyone. They're all lazy good-for-nothings, anyway," Skua snapped. Dreamseeker huffed, trying her best not to flare her wings. Sure, she was quiet, and a little of a push-over, but this dragon was difficult to deal with. How could Eclipse ever have become friends with him? "It's not like we have any other choice. We have to try, don't we?" She glanced up hopefully at Eclipse. Oh, please let him take my side. I can't think of anything else to do!</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse couldn't help but roll his eyes slightly at Skua's reaction. He knew his friend would probably blow up over all of this, but by this point he was used to it. He brushed his wings slightly with Dreamseeker's as she took a step closer. "I thought about coming to get you, but by the time I did she would've been gone," he huffed slightly at the silvery dragon, annoyance painted across his face, "Then we never would've found out anything at all. Besides it's not like I can't defend myself well enough." His tail twitched with annoyance, and he took a moment to put on stopper on any raising of his voice, that would only make things worse. His expression softened slightly, while he knew this was the reaction he would get, he also knew his friend well enough to clock that the anger came more from fear and concern than actual rage. At Dreamseeker's suggestion and Skua's immediate scoff he took a step forward and headbutted him in the neck as both a soft chastising and to draw his attention fully to himself and away from Dreamseeker. He gave the other dragon a fond and excited grin, "Come on Skua, think about how cool it would be to get away from the palace and actually do something about this," he flicked his friend with his tail, "It'll take ages for the palace to get organized enough to do anything, so by the time they do we'll already have gotten there and figured out what's happened." his grin widened, "Besides, how could I go traipsing across the world without my favorite guard and best friend?" He knew it probably wouldn't take too much convincing for Skua to come with them. The thought of leaving him behind seemed wrong, and he assumed the other dragon felt the same way with how much he'd spoken about wanting to find the one responsible. Still, he couldn't keep a small amount of nerves from bubbling up. What if he just completely blew them off? They would be down one and their chances would drop drastically without his help. He carefully danced around the fact that Dreamseeker was coming with them, if he heard that he might be more put off of the idea of flying all the way to the rainforest.</s> <\|message\|>Dreamseeker Dreamseeker was surprised to see how Eclipse and Skua interacted. The both of them were displaying aggression at first, but even though their tails twitched and their expressions were steely. She could tell both of them cared for one another though, and were only frustrated at each other for trivial reasons. She couldn't help but feel a little flustered when Eclipse's wingtips brushed against hers, bringing her wing closer to her as she tried to calm down the quickening beat of her heart. A hard knot formed in her throat as she became a bit more fidgety, but before she knew it, Eclipse bumped his head against the hybrid's neck. Skua let out a puff of frostbreath, his eyes narrowing down at his friend. Dreamseeker didn't have to read his mind once she saw the corners of his lips twitching upwards. "Hmmm, that does sound tempting. Actually ditching this place to see if we could get something done, for once?" he flared his wings dramatically. "Three moons, I'd do anything to get away from Cerise's bickering. And I'm sure that if I left you to your own devices and you got killed, your parents would mount my head on a pike." "You're coming, then?" Dreamseeker asked, even though she already knew the answer. Skua's somewhat playful expression fell from his face once he looked back at her. "Obviously. I'm a guard, protecting royal dragons is what I do," he stated in a snobby voice that made her claws prickle. Dreamseeker turned to Eclipse and gave him a smile. "Good!" she chimed, feeling excited. She hadn't felt this excited in ages. "We'll leave as soon as we're all ready." "Wait, you're coming too?" "Of course. Three dragons are better than two," Dreamseeker attempted to copy the arrogant tone of voice Skua had used only moments before. "Aren't they?" Skua's nostrils flared. "I... guess." Dreamseeker could tell that he didn't like her. Once again, she dabbled in his mind, picking apart the scattered thoughts until she came across something interesting. It'd be so much better if it was just us two. Last thing I need is for Eclipse to be mooning over this strange NightWing, Skua's thoughts echoed back at her. I don't trust her. Those were the consequences of her race. Even though Pyrrhia was trying its hardest to be accepting of all dragons, certain types just weren't tolerated as much as others. NightWings usually got the short end of the stick when it came to trust, next to SandWings. It must have taken ages for Eclipse's mother to be accepted among SkyWing royalty. I'll get him to trust me soon enough, Dreamseeker told herself, somewhat hurt. If I prove myself useful, he'll like me, too. "W-well..." Dreamseeker pulled herself from her thoughts as she batted her wings, flustered with herself. "I'm ready to leave when you two are."</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse grinned at Skua, excitement sending fire through his veins as he immediately wrapped his wings around his friend, "Imagine what she'll say when we come back having solved all this and maybe stopped a war." His grin faded slightly, but he let out a slight chuckle when it came to his parents, but he also felt incredibly worried leaving them here, most likely without saying anything to them, "It wouldn't just be your head, they'd find a way to stick your whole body on a pike as an example. Maybe hang it from the ceiling in the dining hall." Eclipse grinned back at Dreamseeker, eyes bright and excited. He'd hardly ever left the palace, let alone traveled so far away. It was daunting but also exhilarating. There was so much of the world to see and he had only ever read about it in scrolls, and now he was finally getting the chance to actually see something different than the mountains and forests that surrounded the Sky Kingdom. The vast oceans where the Sea Kingdom resided, massive swathes of sands for the Sand Kingdom, swamps and hills for the MudWings; he wanted to learn about all of it. His thoughts trailed off slightly as he watched the bickering between the two other dragons, his head turning back and forth between them, before Skua reluctantly agreed to Dreamseeker's point about greater numbers. He lightly rolled his eyes, if this is what he'd have to deal with the entire journey he was going to go crazy. Skua was his best friend, but he could get a bit haughty and overprotective when it came to unfamiliar dragons. "I'm ready to go," he shuffled a bit nervously, Only problem is I don't think my parents would let me leave even if I explain everything to them. I don't really want to leave without telling them, but I know they'd try to stop us from going." He cared for his parents a great deal and if he left without saying something they would lose themselves worrying about what had happened to him. After losing Ember he didn't think they would be able to handle anything happening to him. He glanced towards Skua, hoping his friend had some sort of solution. They'd sneaked out plenty of times when they were younger, but this was much different. They wouldn't be coming back in the early morning hours trying to keep their laughter quiet enough to not alert the guards; they'd be gone much longer.</s> <\|message\|>Skua Ah, see, there was the problem. Eclipse was noble-blooded, and Skua surely had someone to report to. Dreamseeker could just come and go as she pleased with nothing to hold her back. It wasn't as if Eclipse and Skua could simply ask to leave. After what happeneed to Queen Ember, Eclipse's parents definitely wanted their son around and the kingdom needed all the guards they had at their claws. They had bumped into another dead-end, and they couldn't take too long to find a solution, lest they wanted to attract attention to themselves. Suddenly, a flash of realization struck Skua's expression. "We could sneak out. I know the perfect place." They were lucky that he kept his voice low and his snout dipped towards them. The passing guards were already giving them strange looks. He bounded to his feet and motioned them to follow with a flick of his spined tail. Dreamseeker tossed a wary glance at Eclipse and got on her feet to follow. Her injured leg only bothered her slightly as she pursued Skua down the corridor and then up a very tall, spiraling set of stairs. The walls were narrow; so narrow, that if she spread her wings, their tips would brush against the walls. They climbed higher and higher until they slipped through an opening and found themselves perched on a tall platform. After she had blinked the sunshine away from her eyes, she was met with a wonderful sight. Sprawling mountains, wispy silver clouds just above their heads, and endless blue skies. Her eyes was wide as she took in the view. "Wow..." she breathed out. Skua smirked at her arrogantly. "No time to gawk at the Sky Kingdom's amazing scenery. We need to head south before anyone realizes we're gone." And with that, he leapt off the watchtower and took to the skies. Dreamseeker spread out her wings and flapped after him before turning her head to look back at the remaining dragon. "Come on, Eclipse!" she called, eagerness leaking into her voice.</s>	<\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse felt a grin creep across his face at the idea of sneaking out. It had been years since he'd actually done it since once he got older his parents cared a little bit less about where he was every second of the day. Well, until now anyway. He watched the guards pass by them staring at them curiously, and he made sure to keep his voice low, "Just like old times right." He bounded after Skua as he led them up a narrow staircase that he thought they may have used when they were smaller. He certainly didn't remember the walls being so close together. If he remembered correctly it lead to a little used watch tower that was hidden slightly out of sight from the regular routes that the guards took on their patrols. As the sunlight hit his eyes he paused even after both Skua and Dreamseeker had leapt from the top of the tower into the beautiful morning sky. He glanced back towards the palace, an intense feeling of regret sweeping through him as he thought of what his parents would do when they realized he was gone. Ultimately this would be for the best. They'd find out what happened and he would be able to come home to a much happier sight. One without war. At Dreamseeker's call his head snapped back around and he pushed the worries from his mind. He couldn't help but grin at the barely hidden excitement that slipped into her voice. "Coming!" This would be an exciting journey for them, his worries could come later. He took one step back before leaping off the tower. He let his own excitement bubble over as he looped above the other's heads before soaring over to join them as they began the journey away from the Sky Kingdom.</s>
<\|description\|>Eclipse Namesake:The cosmic event when the moon covers the sun Age: Young Adult Gender: Male Species: SkyWing/NightWing hybrid Personality: Eclipse has the fiery temper of the SkyWings, but does his best to present a more mellow front and the poise of a prince. He does have a bit of a short fuse that can burn down at the worst of times even if the anger doesn't last long. He likes the mysterious air of the NightWings and tries to imitate that more than the aggression. Overall he's a creative and quick-witted young dragon that enjoys the vigor of life and is a bit of a daredevil. Short Bio: Eclipse's parents were a bit of an odd pair, a NightWing and a SkyWing isn't the most common of relationships. His father found his mother unconscious on the shoreline after a powerful storm knocked her from the sky. He had never really seen a NightWing before and found himself enamored by her jet black scales and the stars under her wings. He pulled her from the waves and helped her get back on her feet; discovering that she had Left her tribe due to some conflicting beliefs. He invited her back to the Sky Kingdom and after some convincing she agreed. Being the brother of Queen Ember, and a capable leader in their army, no one really questioned him beyond their initial surprise. After a short time they had Eclipse who spent his childhood learning battle moves from his father and the mysteries of the world from his mother. Other: Eclipse is proud of his aerial prowess and combat abilities. He has a fair amount of book smarts as well, but when it comes things that require more precision he's pretty much hopeless</s> <\|message\|>Viper Most of Viper's focus was on the shorthanded scrawling that she was getting down on the scroll as a record for the meeting. She could only imagine how important this might be down the road if something did come about due to the death of Queen Ember, and she couldn't imagine the any tribe letting the death of their queen just letting it be. She froze slightly as Dreamseeker began to speak and gave a furtive glance towards Queen Ardent. As the NightWing continued to speak she could feel her own scales paling and that deep panic beginning to set in at the idea that someone might be watching what was going on within the hut. That the dragons who had been threatening them somehow knew that they were going to be giving away information and would bust in to kill all of them. If she admired Queen Ardent for anything it was her ability to keep her emotions well hidden. Despite being a RainWing the only indication that she gave that this line of questioning bothered her, and the only reason Viper caught it was because of how much time she spent here, was the slight twitching of Ardent's claws where they were crossed in front of her. Ardent kept silent for some time, her head bowed in thought. Her eyes flicked to the door of the hut before they landed back on their visitors and she sighed. "We did not do it because we wanted to. I know the other tribes think that we are lazy and clueless of our own abilities, but that is not true. We are well aware of how dangerous our venom can be, but they did not give us a choice." Viper couldn't help but suck in a sharp breath as her queen continued to speak. "You have to understand, they threatened my tribe and continue to do so if we tell anyone what has happened. They have dragons around, listening to the things we say in a hope of catching us breaking the deal we made. I did only what I had to in order to stop us from being attacked," she grimaced, "We are not a tribe of fighters." Her long neck turned so she could give Viper a pointed look, but when she spoke her voice was airy and disinterested, the opposite of her quiet and serious tone from before. "Viper why don't you show our guests the wonderful drawing that you did for me the other day." Confusion filled her mind for a moment as she struggled to follow the line of conversation before, after a short moment, she snapped up. "O-oh of course Queen Ardent! I'm sure they would all love to see it." "I apologize but we don't really have time for this." She heard Eclipse say as she rushed to a stretch of bamboo shelves that were covered in scrolls. "I think this will very much interest you." Ardent told him as Viper came back with a single scroll in her paw and laid it on the ground to unroll it. The drawing was crude and not incredibly detailed, but it was unmistakably a SeaWing.</s> <\|message\|>Dreamseeker Skua didn't know what to expect from Ardent, especially when she fell silent and glanced towards the door. But it definitely wasn't for her to suddenly admit the whole plot and why the RainWings did what they did. For a moment, he felt pity for them, along with frustration. What was a tribe to do in the face of danger if they couldn't fight? Why couldn't they even fight in the first place? He ground his teeth together, glaring at the floor as Viper went off to get a drawing. It was only when she showed it to everyone that his head snapped back up at attention. Viper's drawing was one of an azure dragon, with fins, a thick tail, and gills... his heart sunk to his stomach. "That's a--!" he was about to shout, but Dreamseeker's wingtips brushed against his muzzle. Dreamseeker turned to Ardent, her violet eyes wide and filled with fear and worry. "We know who those dragons are. Luckily for us, they aren't very good fighters above the water." she whispered. "I think we can do something about them for your tribe."</s> <\|message\|>Viper Finally they had someone who actually knew what was going on. Eclipse did feel bad for the RainWings, having their lives threatened was nothing to ignore, and he couldn't even find it in himself to fault them for not trying to fight back. While they might not be as lazy as was written in the scrolls they were still pacifists as far as he could tell. He could tell Skua was getting irritated at everything that was going on, but hopefully they'd be on their way soon. He was surprised to say the least when Ardent changed her tune and completely stopped talking about what was important. Instead telling Viper to go get a drawing and even as he went to protest Ardent gave him a keen look. She was much more intelligent than anyone else seemed to give her credit for. He moved up to stand next to Skua and Dreamseeker as the scroll was unfurled and felt his brow furrow in confusion. This couldn't be right. What reason would the SeaWings have to start this or threaten the RainWings? The drawing was unmistakable though and the rest of his troupe also realized quickly. "You think so? They're a real nuisance but tougher to get rid of than one would expect." Ardent's voice kept that bored tone as she spoke to Dreamseeker and Viper moved back to the small table beside her. Her pale blue scales were swirling with a pale green. He had no idea what that meant but judging by the way her eyes were darting around the room she must be nervous about whoever these SeaWings were. Ardent's scales hadn't shifted at all, Rainwings were so confusing. Eclipse nodded in agreement with Dreamseeker. "If you could give us an idea of where they might be I think we have a pretty good chance." He didn't want to risk the lives of the RainWings, but they needed more information and what better place to get it than from the ones responsible. The jewelry jingled as Ardent shifted on the throne, "Usually they stick to the outskirts, I believe, or any place with quite a bit of water." He nodded and filed away that information, "I think we need to have a conversation about all of this," he looked to the rest of the group, "There's a lot that we have to consider." "Whenever you make your decision let me know. Viper can inform me if you don't wish to come back and wait in line." She gestured towards the door with one paw, "Best of luck to you."</s> <\|message\|>Skua The SeaWings acted smart, apparently sticking to the outskirts of the RainWing's territory. Maybe there they would be able to keep track of what occurred in the forest, and he wondered if they knew about their presence already. Skua hoped they did. He felt like clawing a few of those sea-snail eaters in the face. He followed everyone outside of the hut, glancing over at Eclipse and bumping his flank against his. "All we need to do now is get rid of those pests." he declared with a crooked grin. "And then we could head to the SeaWing Kingdom and demand an explanation." Dreamseeker padded up alongside them. "I think it's a lot more difficult than it sounds, Skua. We need to be really careful about what we decide to do," her eyes were gentle as she glanced over the three males in front of her. "But as of now, we're all pretty tired. Maybe we can talk over brunch. Full bellies will help us in planning our next move." Skua snorted and clawed the wood in front of him. "Fine. But I don't want to waste any more time than we have to. I'm already itching to fly to the east and burst into Queen Marlin's palace."</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse This revelation was sending all sorts of conflicting thoughts pinging around in Eclipse's head. Unfortunately, most of them were questions without any answers. He had never met any SeaWings personally, beyond the occasional envoys that showed up to speak with his parents or Queen Ember, but they'd always been cordial and never given any indication of dislike, though he supposed it was easy enough to hide that. Either way, it was confusing to say the least. What reason did the SeaWings have to start a war or kill the Queen? What could they hope to gain from it? He was snapped free of his roiling thoughts when he felt Skua's side bump against his and he let himself relax a bit with a grin in return at his friend's confidence. "If all they've been dealing with are pacifist RainWings they're in for a surprise when we track them down." He almost couldn't wait to get his claws into them. As Dreamseeker spoke he knew she was right. He just wished that at least one thing they did had an easy solution. Was that too much to ask after everything they'd been dealing with so far? "We didn't get a chance to eat this morning. If we're going to be busting down doors it might be a good idea," he flashed Skua another grin, "Not that I don't think you're perfectly capable, but then again, if we try to do something quietly we may have a problem." It was easy enough to get back to the upper platforms and he was happy to see there was still plenty of food for them to tear into. He missed meat though. He supposed this would all have to do. "So what's the plan then?" "While I don't think tracking down a bunch of SeaWings in a jungle is going to be all that hard, isn't it supposed to be super difficult to get into the SeaWing's home?" Aardwolf piped up while they ate, "I've heard that it's hidden underwater or something like that, so we may need some kind of help getting there." Eclipse sighed, of course it couldn't be simple. "I'd rather not try to convince one of these "assassins" to tell us how to get in, so I'm open to ideas."</s> <\|message\|>Skua Skua didn't feel like getting the SeaWing assassins to fess up, either. Assassins were trained not to submit themselves to their capturers, right? So what made them think that a random SeaWing was going to tell them where their palace was? The assassin would probably die laughing if they even tried to make them fess up. Skua shook his head. "Hidden underwater or not, I doubt that lot's going to tell us anything about where their Queen is. We might just have to rely on our own intuition to get us there," he growled. "Let's just try to get some food to in our bellies before anything else though." They flew off to another platform where a bunch of RainWings gathered, apparently to get their breakfast. One of the RainWings was helping out with handing out fruit, and Skua was given a large, round, pinkish fruit with green spines. How did the RainWings survive off of just fruit? He was still hungry from last night... Dreamseeker spoke to them once again once they all had their fruits and were resting underneath the shade of a tree. "We could see if we can find another SeaWing that isn't an assassin. If we fly around the ocean for some time, we're bound to run into someone, right?"</s>	<\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse nodded in agreement with Skua as they all picked up some food for the morning and headed a little ways off to be out of earshot of the rest of the RainWings. It felt like they'd been close to figuring all of this out and being able to go back home. He couldn't imagine how his parents must've felt when they woke up to find him gone. Maybe the knowledge that Skua was most likely with him would at least settle their minds a small amount. He didn't even bother looking at the fruit he was eating, it honestly made it easier to just chew mindlessly and not think about the prey that wandered the jungle that he could be eating. He'd be more than happy to get away from here. "That's an option. I don't think they frequently leave their kingdom, and if they do they certainly don't leave the ocean much, but we still need to give Queen Ardent an answer, he tossed some sort of red berry into is mouth, "Are we going to try and deal with these assassins or do we hope the RainWings can hold out and head towards the sea?" He personally didn't want to leave with the possibility that the RainWings would be attacked, not when they could do something about it, but he felt like they needed to consider if it would just be faster to go straight to the source and get the SeaWings to call them off. Though they may not even be willing to do that if they found out the RainWings had told someone what was going on.</s>
<\|description\|>Skua Namesake: The skua, which is an arctic bird Age: Young adult Gender: Male Species: Hybrid; 1/2 IceWing, 1/2 SkyWing Personality: A very proud dragon that has a bit of a hot streak. He hates unfair things, though his definition of unfair might vary from time to time. Loyal and strong of character. Skua has a thing against showing sensitive emotions, such as sadness, worry, fear, and so forth. Under that aloof exterior, he's rather the adventurous type and likes to fool around. Short Bio: Skua's mother and father met one destined day in Queen Ember's palace; his mother, as fiery and headstrong as many other SkyWings, found herself quite enamored with his father during his journey as a traveling musician. Within the few days that he spent in the palace, his father convinced his mother to come along with him on his travels. Soon after came along little Skua, who had been more rambunctious than the two were prepared for. As he grew, his mother realized that he had the potential of becoming a great dragon, not just some ordinary musician, and so she sent him to the Sky Kingdom in order for him to train under her comrades' wings. Other: Skua is actually a gifted musician, though he doesn't let anyone know. He also doesn't really have any special powers, but is talented at claw to claw combat.</s> <\|message\|>Skua Festivals weren't necessarily Skua's thing. It meant more work for him, which didn't necessarily bother him, but it allowed more ample room to make mistakes. He much preferred it when it was quiet around. It was easier to keep track of things, and that way he wouldn't be so uptight. He hung about with the other guards, listening to them complain about whatnot. One of the SkyWings, a long-necked, graceful-looking female, nodded her head brusquely as she conversed next to him. "I'm telling you, it's a bad thing Queen Ember is allowing all of these dragons to constantly mill about. She's just asking for trouble. We all know different types of dragons don't really get along," she said. The other female SkyWing next to her was a small one, but she puffed out her chest indignantly. "Don't say that kind of stuff, Cerise. Just look at how many of them are having fun--" Skua rolled his eyes. Yeah, fun; the little one was right about one thing, at least. From what he could tell, there wasn't a sign of intent in any of the dragons that milled around stalls and barrels of food. They all seemed to be more interested in talking and eating than looking to start a fight. Frankly, the peaceful sight made him want to doze. Skua's muzzle wrinkled at Cerise's retort, not even bothering to pay attention to what he said as he spread his wings and took to the sky. Maybe a quick flight would wake him up. The smell of roasted pig reached his nose, and his stomach growled. Maybe a quick bite, too... Though before he could really search for the place that heavenly smell, he caught sight of a familiar flash of black and red scales. Skua blinked in surprise when he saw Eclipse talking with two other dragons, both of which seemingly having just as much fun as the rest of the festive dragons. Grinning, he drifted down to join them. "Aren't we being social today?" Skua teased Eclipse as he landed beside the other dragon. His yellow eyes drifted between Sunrise and Ash as he sat down. "Don't mind me, I'm just surprised he actually decided to show up."</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse sighed with mock exasperation as one of his few other friends in the palace landed on the ground next to him, "And here I was hoping I wouldn't have to interact with anyone else today," he flicked Skua with the tip of his tail in a friendly manner; puffing his chest out and pitching his voice up to more closely match that of his aunt, "You've gotten in the way of my haughty gaze over the commoners." He and Ash chuckled as he let his chest fall. Ash turned towards Skua with a matching teasing smile on his face. "Rather shocking isn't it. I expected him to stay up and out of the way the entirety of the festival," he turned the toothy grin on Eclipse, "and that would be a tragedy." Eclipse simply rolled his eyes, legitimately sighing this time. He looked towards the sky as if silently asking it why he decided to put up with these ridiculous dragons that he called friends. He might act as if they annoyed him but he really didn't know what he would do if they didn't take the time to hang out. He'd probably go crazy trapped in the palace with all of the other high and mighty royal types. They could be insufferable with all the gossip and posturing they did, he just couldn't understand it. He glanced back down, "Well I don't know about the rest of you but I'm starving," he grinned towards Sunrise, the smallest out of the whole group, "Great skies knows you could use more meat on your bones." He leapt sideways ducking behind Skua as she swiped a claw at him, "She's a menace I tell you, trying to attack someone in broad daylight," he added a wounded tone to his voice as Sunrise barred her teeth at him, which from any other dragon would probably be intimidating, but from her it just looked kind of cute. Ash took a step forward and patted her gently on the head in a way that seemed both placating and degrading at the same time; which earned him his second thwack from her tail of the day. At this rate there would be a new record. Eclipse slipped around his friend, wrapping one wing around him in an actual greeting, and started heading in the direction of the food stalls, still keeping a fair distance from Sunrise in case she kept trying for her revenge. As the other two prepared to follow, chatting with each other over what kind of food they wanted to get, he looked towards his blue-scaled friend, "Find anything fun to do at this festival, or have you been too busy gossiping with the other soldiers?" he asked with a good natured smile in Skua's direction.</s> <\|message\|>Skua Skua snorted at Eclipse's words as he rolled his eyes. He knew that Eclipse was joking, but he was tempted to cuff him over the head after that reply. Playfully, of course. Though, knowing his strength, he might be too rough about it. Nevertheless, he allowed his crooked grin to spread, and he glanced over at Ash. "A great tragedy, indeed," he agreed whole-heartedly, giving his tail a lax flick. When Eclipse teased Sunrise and caused her to take a swipe at him, in turn using his own body as a shield, Skua sent a sharp glare at his friend. "You're lucky she doesn't shred you, Eclipse," he said in a cautious voice. Despite his glare, he nudged him jokingly. "One day, she'll really lose her temper, and I'll have to drag your tail to the healers." Right after he said that, though, a laugh left his jaws. Ash and Sunrise continued their spiel, he let another laugh as Eclipse gave him a proper greeting. "What? Me? Gossip?" he chuckled as he walked beside him. "I think you might've confused me for one of the older guards around here. They never stop gossiping." Skua added as he held his head up. There were some unfamiliar dragons that looked at them with curiosity, and so he held his head higher. They probably figured Eclipse was one of the royals, and so Skua absolutely had to look at least somewhat proper. The smell of roast boar reached his nose, and he laughed again. "I'm sure I'll have enough fun if I get something to eat. I'm starving."</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse grinned, "I know I can always count on you to protect me from her rather small wrath." He easily walked his way through the throng of other dragons getting food and chatting with each other, most people tended to get out of his way if they knew who he was. To be honest he kind of wished that they wouldn't act so impressed, it's not like he could take the throne anyway, but at least he didn't have to push and shove. He noticed some of the dragons paying them some extra attention and Skua promptly holding his head higher. He sent a quick glare in the direction of the curious ones who quickly averted their gazes. After he was satisfied they were no longer staring he briefly tuned into the conversation that Sunrise and Ash were having. She was prattling on about one of the scrolls that she had read recently; while Ash nodded sagely next to her despite looking like he was half-asleep. He smiled fondly at them before looking back at Skua, "Well it's not like they have much else to do these days," he dodged to the side out of the way of a rather massive MudWing that wasn't paying much attention and shook his head slightly, "sometimes they actually have some pretty good stories to tell." He remembered when he was younger and got tired of working with his father; he would slip away to the barracks and listen to the older soldiers tell heavily exaggerated battle stories. Eventually his father would hunt him down, but he could usually convince him to stay and tell his own tales to avoid any more battle training. He chuckled, "We better find something quick then," he stretched his head up and found a stall with fewer dragons around it and many different kinds of roasted meats, "Can't have one of my best friends dying from lack of fun." He bounded towards the stall and examined the various kinds of meats they had: pig, rabbits, birds, and pretty much anything else a dragon could want. He selected a massive boar that was big enough for at least two of them, and then stood to the side so the others could get what they wanted. His mouth was already watering at the smell of the meat, so he quickly found an out of the way place for them to eat. "Is there any news going around?" he asked seriously, "I haven't had the chance to talk with any of the soldiers or scribes recently." He sunk his teeth into the roasted meat and watched as Ash and Sunrise both made their way over to join them.</s> <\|message\|>Skua Eclipse was right, after all. Then again, he didn't have to deal with chattering dragons almost nonstop today. He rolled his eyes, trying not to think of Cerise and her constant bickering. That old lump of scales didn't know what the definition of fun was. But, her words had left what felt like ants crawling under his scales. While this festival was meant to bring dragons together, he could still spot some overly cautious glances from several individuals. Three moons, some could even be considered hostile. Skua sent a glare at a NightWing that stared at him for too long before focusing on the smell of roasted meats. That was something that boded well, at least. Once he had gotten a whole roast boar, he took it over to where Eclipse ate and settled down. He flicked his tail as his fangs sank into the savory cut. "No news, other than what I heard about Queen Ember's speech," Skua mumbled around a mouthful. He felt bad for the queen. It was the first time a member of royalty had held so many dragons as guests in her kingdom, and tension was already crackling between a certain few of them. The NightWing stared at him again. Skua let out a growl. "Maybe all the old grayscales are right," he muttered. "Nothing good can come from putting all of Pyrrhia in one kingdom..."</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse frowned slightly at his friend, sensing the nervous energy he had. He knew tensions were on the rise between several of the tribes, but he didn't want to entertain the idea that it could grow into something worse. "What do you think Sunrise?" he queried towards the smaller dragon, "You're always reading all those scrolls." He saw the glare Skua sent towards something out of his line of sight out of the corner of his eye, and felt a brief flash of concern for what might have drawn the other's ire. Sunrise shrugged slightly, "Well there's never really been a time when everyone completely got along. There's always someone who is unhappy with the way things are and wants to change things "for the better," and ends up starting conflict." As she talked, she reached a claw out and skewered one of the birds that Ash had in front of him. Eclipse sighed, seemed like nothing could ever be easy. "Hopefully Queen Ember will have something good to say." His eyes flicked back towards Skua at his growl, and he twisted his head slightly to see a NightWing quickly snapping their head away. He shifted subtly to position himself in between the nosy dragon and Skua, effectively blocking the NightWing's view. He knew how much Skua hated people staring at him, usually because of how he looked, given who his parents were. That didn't give them any right to gawk though. He wasn't wholly SkyWing, and people didn't stare at him any more than any other members of the royal family. "I wouldn't worry too much," he flicked Skua lightly with his tail, both to grab his attention and as a friendly gesture, "the Sky Kingdom has excellent soldiers if something does happens." He flashed a smile at the blue-scaled dragon; attempting to lighten the slightly tense and somber mood.</s>	<\|message\|>Skua Sunrise seemed to share the same skepticism as he did. Though, he wasn't sure if he should be more at ease because of the fact that someone agreed with him, or if he had every reason to be more action. His eyes darted about once again. Maybe he should just calm down. No one looked suspicious-- even that NightWing had darted off somewhere. Maybe he was just getting stared at because he looked weird. Even though dragons tolerated each other more than before, hybrids were rare. Three moons, perhaps the NightWing was just admiring his scales. They were a dashing shade of silvery blue and oranges and yellows, weren't they? Skua returned his attention to Eclipse, nodding his head at his words. "Of course," he said, lifting his head arrogantly. "As if I would ever let anything happen to Queen Ember. Or anyone, really. Especially you," he chuckled as he teased his friend, bumping his wing against his side. Eclipse's words did resonate with him, though. Queen Ember better have something good to say in order to ease whatever tension there was between the intermingling dragons. A flash of red and orange scales in the sky caught his attention. Skua glanced up to see that at least a dozen armored SkyWings had filtered out of the palace. In the middle of the guards was a large, very pale orange SkyWing. The midday sun made her scales look almost like a mixture of liquid gold and fire, and the golden necklaces around her long, graceful neck only added to her beauty. "Attention all!" roared one of the SkyWing guards as they soared towards the pulpit that looked over the celebrations. "All dragons must gather in the arena to listen to Queen Ember's word!" Skua had already taken a bite out of his boar, and he swallowed quickly before he looked back at Eclipse, Sunrise, and Ash. "Well, at least we're here already," he commented.</s>
<\|description\|>Skua Namesake: The skua, which is an arctic bird Age: Young adult Gender: Male Species: Hybrid; 1/2 IceWing, 1/2 SkyWing Personality: A very proud dragon that has a bit of a hot streak. He hates unfair things, though his definition of unfair might vary from time to time. Loyal and strong of character. Skua has a thing against showing sensitive emotions, such as sadness, worry, fear, and so forth. Under that aloof exterior, he's rather the adventurous type and likes to fool around. Short Bio: Skua's mother and father met one destined day in Queen Ember's palace; his mother, as fiery and headstrong as many other SkyWings, found herself quite enamored with his father during his journey as a traveling musician. Within the few days that he spent in the palace, his father convinced his mother to come along with him on his travels. Soon after came along little Skua, who had been more rambunctious than the two were prepared for. As he grew, his mother realized that he had the potential of becoming a great dragon, not just some ordinary musician, and so she sent him to the Sky Kingdom in order for him to train under her comrades' wings. Other: Skua is actually a gifted musician, though he doesn't let anyone know. He also doesn't really have any special powers, but is talented at claw to claw combat.</s> <\|message\|>Skua It was kind of hard to believe that his mother served Queen Ember as a guard. All of the other armored SkyWing guards appeared fierce and intimidating, and Skua remembered his mother as kind and understanding. To think that she might have been as stern-faced as one of such guards in her youth. He shook his head, chewing and craning his head as he turned to peer at Ember. The queen was a young queen, her scales unblemished from any fights as her neck swung from side to side at the watching dragons. "There may have been times where dragons of all tribes have gathered like this, but I'm sure that no one can remember a festival as grand as this one!" Queen Ember's voice chimed. "May the celebrations continue, and may we go on to relish each other's company for--" "Look out!" One of the guards at her side had cut through the queen's speech with a terrified screech, her massive crimson wings flaring as she attempted to dive towards Queen Ember. But it was too late. Something whizzed through the air, something small and shiny, and streaked towards Ember's ornamented long neck. Its edge stuck itself into her underscales, and the queen screamed in pain as blood tarnished her neck. Skua's jaw dropped open as he leapt to his feet, his wings expanding as he prepared to take flight towards Queen Ember. But the many SkyWing guards crowded around her, so much so that Skua could no longer see her collapsed body. More and more dragons screamed and roared in panic around him. The sky came to life with the multicolored hides of SandWings, SeaWings, NightWings alike, and more SkyWing guards poured forth from the palace in a panic. "Everyone stay calm!" yelled one of the SkyWings as others flew in loops around the frightened dragons. The dragons that hadn't been able to flee in time shoved against each other, their eyes wild with fear and uncertainty. Skua's wings itched to take flight, to take into the sky and search for whoever had attacked the queen. But the sharpened, angry, desperate gazes of the SkyWings tasked to keep them calm proved that he could do no such thing. If he rebelled, he'd probably be pinned and arrested as a potential suspect. Not that he would do such a thing to Ember! He had Ash, Sunrise, and Eclipse as witnesses! Skua turned to look at Eclipse, his eyes bright with anger and uncertainty. "Did you see that?" he hissed. "The... the thing that hit Queen Ember-- it looked like a dart, or a knife, or something sharp. And it hit her in the neck. Three moons, do you think she's even still alive?! Who could have done such a thing?!' He was practically roaring at this point, his serrated claws digging into the earth and his tail lashing to and fro. I feel so useless!</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse felt a swell of pride for both his aunt and his father, who had served as a guard for the queen for as long as he could remember. He wasn't sure if his father was among the guards with her right now, but he couldn't imagine he'd be anywhere but with his sister on a day like this. Unfortunately they weren't really close enough for him to be able to discern which dragon was which under all of the armor they wore. His dad took a great deal of pleasure traveling around with Queen Ember and pestering her when she wasn't busy with her many duties she had to preform every day. Queen Ember's voice was clear and strong despite her youth and general inexperience. He knew he'd never be able to stand up in front of this many dragons and give a speech like this. He glanced at the dragon's sitting around them, almost all of them were watching with rapt attention at the words that rang out across the arena. Before they were abruptly cut off as something struck her in the neck and she fell back into the guards with a scream; red covering the pale orange. He could see the guards moving in to surround her, some facing her and others facing out frantic eyes on the crowds below. His entire body froze and the screams of the other dragons around them faded into the background as everyone began to panic around them. His dad was up there, their Queen had been struck with...something, he hadn't be able to see exactly what, and might be bleeding out as the crowds pushed and shoved in order to escape. With the chaos there would be no way to find the one responsible, they could go after his dad or his mom next, and he had no idea what he could possibly do to help. He snapped out of his panicked thoughts, just barely catching the tail end of what Skua said to him. "I...I don't know." he looked backwards towards Ash and Sunrise who were staring with horror and shock on their faces; as were many of the other dragons who hadn't run. He looked up towards where the soldiers were circling, attempting to calm the masses. They didn't seem to be having much luck. His voice finally caught up to his thoughts as his head whipped around to Skua, slightly frantic, "That's my family up there! I have to get to them, what if the dragon responsible is still here and goes after someone else?!" He could see the pent up frustration in his friend's stance as he spread his wings went to take off into the sky, and froze again, this time with indecision. He needed to know if his family was okay, but he didn't want to leave his friends here in case something happened. He looked back and forth between the chaos on the pulpit and where Skua stood lashing his tail, completely unsure of what he should do.</s> <\|message\|>Skua Skua was getting more and more aggravated by the minute. The SkyWing guards flapped about, shoving back against the dragons that wanted to escape. His eyes flicked about the crowd; he couldn't find any suspicious dragons in this mess, no guilty or pleased faces that flashed among the bewildered ones. He caught sight of dragons with eyes filled with tears of panic, fear, and confusion. How many had families they were wondering about? How many of them were separated from their loved ones in this chaos? Skua awaited another attack, another flying dart that soared towards the other members of royalty. But none came. It seemed that their assassin had either blended with the crowd almost perfectly, or had fled the scene right after his attack. Eclipse's words snapped his attention back to his panicking friend. A scowl crossed his maw. They were doing nothing sitting about. And Eclipse wanted to make sure his family was alright... "The assassin is gone by now. There's no way that they could do anything in this mess," he commented. "For now, we should find out if everyone is alright!" Though, judging from all the blood, I doubt the queen is okay. He spread his wings, taking off into the sky. One of the guards moved to intercept him, though Skua snarled. "Three moons, I'm one of the queen's soldiers! Let us through!" Skua wasn't sure if it was because of the intensity of his roar or his words, but the SkyWing blinked in surprise and moved to let them pass. Skua flapped towards the pulpit, landing among the fretting SkyWings and their royalty. Ember was still on the floor, gasping and writhing as her tail curled and uncurled. There wasn't so much blood, at least, not as much as he had thought. The healers on the scene fluttered to and fro, their eyes wild with panic. "She's been poisoned," one of the healers hissed. The largest SkyWing guard growled. "Then do something about it, Cloud!" "I-I can't... we don't know what to do--! The poison's already in her blood, and it struck an artery..." Skua's blood froze over like the coldest tundra. He whirled his head around to face Eclipse. "Poison," he hissed. There were many types of poison in the world, ranging from SandWing venom to dragonbite viper venom. Though, even he knew that, once the poison hit the blood, there was little one can do. And if it hit a vital point on one's body...</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse nodded shakily at Skua's words, still trying to wrap his head around everything that had happened. He was grateful for the initiative of his friend, even if it was a bit forceful. "This is going to mean war with whichever tribe is responsible," he looked at the faces of the dragons below them as they quickly made their way up into the sky, "and whichever tribes they're allied with." Any one of them could've been responsible for the attack on Queen Ember, but at the same time, most of them were innocent bystanders. Many of their faces were filled with shock and sadness, and if a war started so many of them would die, even though they did nothing to cause it. He shook his head angrily to banish the thoughts away. He let Skua lead the way through the guards, slightly surprised that the one that attempted to stop them didn't recognize either of them. Though the stress of the situation probably made things difficult. As he landed on the pulpit beside Skua, he could see the healers nearby, trying to do anything they could to help their queen, but the pain seemed to grow every second she laid prone and gasping. Her claws scrabbled against the ground, leaving deep gouges in the stone. He easily recognized his father crouched close enough to have his snout pressed to Ember's forehead, but far enough to not get in the way of the healers that rushed around. The deep reds and oranges of his father's scales seemed pallid and his eyes were clouded as he whispered soothing words to her that were much too quiet for Eclipse to hear. At Skua's hiss he pulled his attention away from his family for a brief moment to stare at him. "Why would someone do this?" he shook his head, "What is there to possibly gain?" The surprise was beginning to give way to a blood boiling anger; a rage that he usually tried to keep well in check, but this time he planned on using it to discover who was responsible. A sudden flurry of activity from the healers drew his attention back to the crowd. The gasping from Ember had grown quieter; her tail and claws stilled in their frantic motions. The only movement was the blood bubbling up between her teeth and pooling on the stone underneath her head. There was a beat of still silence before pandemonium erupted as roars and cries rose from the assembled dragons. Eclipse immediately shoved his way through the crowd, an incomprehensible roar of rage and grief causing several of the guards and healers to jump backwards in surprise. He pushed past the rest of the healers to crouch next to his father who hadn't moved from his position next to Ember; small tremors causing the armor he wore to clank slightly. He draped a wing across his father's back; knowing there was nothing he could possibly say to make this any easier.</s>	<\|message\|>Skua This was almost too much for Skua to handle. The grief that pooled together from the spectating dragons was heavy in the air. Yet, alongside the grief and pain, there was a quiet rage that hung thick like blood between them. Eclipse was right. Whoever was responsible had just started a war between tribes. After so many years of peace and prosperity... he trembled, the mix of emotions swelling in his chest. He couldn't even bring himself to comfort Eclipse and his father. He wasn't related to them, and he only had a percentage of SkyWing blood... Suddenly, Ember's body became still, and the smell of death quickly flooded the air. The Skywings all screamed and roared and wailed in unison. Skua ground his teeth together and snarled. "This means war!" he roared, quite literally bristling with fury. The SkyWing healer, Cloud, ducked his head. "Did... did no one see anything?" "The dart came out of nowhere..." one of the SkyWing guards whimpered. Skua's scales felt like needles. "We need to find whoever is responsible, whatever it takes. We're wasting our time hanging our heads and feeling sorry for ourselves!" Most of the SkyWings glared at him, but Cloud shook his head. "It may prove more difficult than we think." "Why?" Cloud carefully lifted the sharp object that had struck Ember. It was covered in blood, but there was something else there. Something waxy black was splotched over the dart, and Skua wrinkled his nose. "This is unlike any poison I've ever seen before. It's not SandWing venom, and it's not dragonbite viper venom... and look, it's eaten the scales around the puncture wound on Ember's neck." Skua craned his neck to look closer. Cloud was right. Ember's scales had twisted and deformed among the blood, as if they had begun to melt off her body. "Then we have no exact way of knowing where the poison came from..." Skua muttered.</s>
<\|description\|>Skua Namesake: The skua, which is an arctic bird Age: Young adult Gender: Male Species: Hybrid; 1/2 IceWing, 1/2 SkyWing Personality: A very proud dragon that has a bit of a hot streak. He hates unfair things, though his definition of unfair might vary from time to time. Loyal and strong of character. Skua has a thing against showing sensitive emotions, such as sadness, worry, fear, and so forth. Under that aloof exterior, he's rather the adventurous type and likes to fool around. Short Bio: Skua's mother and father met one destined day in Queen Ember's palace; his mother, as fiery and headstrong as many other SkyWings, found herself quite enamored with his father during his journey as a traveling musician. Within the few days that he spent in the palace, his father convinced his mother to come along with him on his travels. Soon after came along little Skua, who had been more rambunctious than the two were prepared for. As he grew, his mother realized that he had the potential of becoming a great dragon, not just some ordinary musician, and so she sent him to the Sky Kingdom in order for him to train under her comrades' wings. Other: Skua is actually a gifted musician, though he doesn't let anyone know. He also doesn't really have any special powers, but is talented at claw to claw combat.</s> <\|message\|>Skua Skua was getting more and more aggravated by the minute. The SkyWing guards flapped about, shoving back against the dragons that wanted to escape. His eyes flicked about the crowd; he couldn't find any suspicious dragons in this mess, no guilty or pleased faces that flashed among the bewildered ones. He caught sight of dragons with eyes filled with tears of panic, fear, and confusion. How many had families they were wondering about? How many of them were separated from their loved ones in this chaos? Skua awaited another attack, another flying dart that soared towards the other members of royalty. But none came. It seemed that their assassin had either blended with the crowd almost perfectly, or had fled the scene right after his attack. Eclipse's words snapped his attention back to his panicking friend. A scowl crossed his maw. They were doing nothing sitting about. And Eclipse wanted to make sure his family was alright... "The assassin is gone by now. There's no way that they could do anything in this mess," he commented. "For now, we should find out if everyone is alright!" Though, judging from all the blood, I doubt the queen is okay. He spread his wings, taking off into the sky. One of the guards moved to intercept him, though Skua snarled. "Three moons, I'm one of the queen's soldiers! Let us through!" Skua wasn't sure if it was because of the intensity of his roar or his words, but the SkyWing blinked in surprise and moved to let them pass. Skua flapped towards the pulpit, landing among the fretting SkyWings and their royalty. Ember was still on the floor, gasping and writhing as her tail curled and uncurled. There wasn't so much blood, at least, not as much as he had thought. The healers on the scene fluttered to and fro, their eyes wild with panic. "She's been poisoned," one of the healers hissed. The largest SkyWing guard growled. "Then do something about it, Cloud!" "I-I can't... we don't know what to do--! The poison's already in her blood, and it struck an artery..." Skua's blood froze over like the coldest tundra. He whirled his head around to face Eclipse. "Poison," he hissed. There were many types of poison in the world, ranging from SandWing venom to dragonbite viper venom. Though, even he knew that, once the poison hit the blood, there was little one can do. And if it hit a vital point on one's body...</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse nodded shakily at Skua's words, still trying to wrap his head around everything that had happened. He was grateful for the initiative of his friend, even if it was a bit forceful. "This is going to mean war with whichever tribe is responsible," he looked at the faces of the dragons below them as they quickly made their way up into the sky, "and whichever tribes they're allied with." Any one of them could've been responsible for the attack on Queen Ember, but at the same time, most of them were innocent bystanders. Many of their faces were filled with shock and sadness, and if a war started so many of them would die, even though they did nothing to cause it. He shook his head angrily to banish the thoughts away. He let Skua lead the way through the guards, slightly surprised that the one that attempted to stop them didn't recognize either of them. Though the stress of the situation probably made things difficult. As he landed on the pulpit beside Skua, he could see the healers nearby, trying to do anything they could to help their queen, but the pain seemed to grow every second she laid prone and gasping. Her claws scrabbled against the ground, leaving deep gouges in the stone. He easily recognized his father crouched close enough to have his snout pressed to Ember's forehead, but far enough to not get in the way of the healers that rushed around. The deep reds and oranges of his father's scales seemed pallid and his eyes were clouded as he whispered soothing words to her that were much too quiet for Eclipse to hear. At Skua's hiss he pulled his attention away from his family for a brief moment to stare at him. "Why would someone do this?" he shook his head, "What is there to possibly gain?" The surprise was beginning to give way to a blood boiling anger; a rage that he usually tried to keep well in check, but this time he planned on using it to discover who was responsible. A sudden flurry of activity from the healers drew his attention back to the crowd. The gasping from Ember had grown quieter; her tail and claws stilled in their frantic motions. The only movement was the blood bubbling up between her teeth and pooling on the stone underneath her head. There was a beat of still silence before pandemonium erupted as roars and cries rose from the assembled dragons. Eclipse immediately shoved his way through the crowd, an incomprehensible roar of rage and grief causing several of the guards and healers to jump backwards in surprise. He pushed past the rest of the healers to crouch next to his father who hadn't moved from his position next to Ember; small tremors causing the armor he wore to clank slightly. He draped a wing across his father's back; knowing there was nothing he could possibly say to make this any easier.</s> <\|message\|>Skua This was almost too much for Skua to handle. The grief that pooled together from the spectating dragons was heavy in the air. Yet, alongside the grief and pain, there was a quiet rage that hung thick like blood between them. Eclipse was right. Whoever was responsible had just started a war between tribes. After so many years of peace and prosperity... he trembled, the mix of emotions swelling in his chest. He couldn't even bring himself to comfort Eclipse and his father. He wasn't related to them, and he only had a percentage of SkyWing blood... Suddenly, Ember's body became still, and the smell of death quickly flooded the air. The Skywings all screamed and roared and wailed in unison. Skua ground his teeth together and snarled. "This means war!" he roared, quite literally bristling with fury. The SkyWing healer, Cloud, ducked his head. "Did... did no one see anything?" "The dart came out of nowhere..." one of the SkyWing guards whimpered. Skua's scales felt like needles. "We need to find whoever is responsible, whatever it takes. We're wasting our time hanging our heads and feeling sorry for ourselves!" Most of the SkyWings glared at him, but Cloud shook his head. "It may prove more difficult than we think." "Why?" Cloud carefully lifted the sharp object that had struck Ember. It was covered in blood, but there was something else there. Something waxy black was splotched over the dart, and Skua wrinkled his nose. "This is unlike any poison I've ever seen before. It's not SandWing venom, and it's not dragonbite viper venom... and look, it's eaten the scales around the puncture wound on Ember's neck." Skua craned his neck to look closer. Cloud was right. Ember's scales had twisted and deformed among the blood, as if they had begun to melt off her body. "Then we have no exact way of knowing where the poison came from..." Skua muttered.</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse listened to the conversation going on between Skua and the healer, Cloud, while keeping himself crouched next to his father. His legs were starting to cramp up a bit, but he wasn't about to move. He frowned in confusion at the dart that was being held in between the healer's claws. He'd certainly never seen anything that looked like that or had the effect on a dragon's scales that this substance did. Maybe Sunrise would know something, she spent all that time reading through old scrolls. He heard a familiar roar and glanced up to see his mother, Brightstar, soaring quickly down to the pulpit; light catching on the gleaming white scales under her wings and bouncing off her jet black hide. Despite not being directly related to the Queen she still commanded a great deal of respect, and the guards lowered their heads; stepping back slightly to allow her to move closer. A deep sadness filled her eyes as she looked down at Ember. The Queen had been one of the first dragons to truly welcome her when she'd first come to the Sky Kingdom with Storm. Eclipse felt himself sag slightly in relief, surely his mother would know what to say or do, she always seemed to know more than anyone else did. He drew his wing back and pushed himself to his feet, opening his jaws to say something, but quickly snapping them shut again at a minute shake of Brightstar's head. "Blackbird and Jet," she called out to two of the guards nearby, "Please take Storm back to the palace." The two SkyWings moved to help Storm to his feet and gently lead him away from the body of Ember. "Take care of him, I'll be there shortly." She took a step towards the healers and began a hushed conversation with them; occasionally gesturing towards Ember and the crowd below. Eclipse moved to stand next to Skua once again, "What should we do?" He bumped his wings against his friend as he shifted uneasily, "Should we try to figure out what the poison is?" He sighed, suddenly exhausted. This festival was supposed to celebrate peace and instead it was going to be a catalyst for war.</s> <\|message\|>Skua At the appearance of Eclipse's mother, Skua had become much more quiet. He had roared and stamped his feet enough; he wasn't a mewling dragonet that had to be told to be quiet. Yet, his tail still lashed wildly, and his bright eyes blazed with fury. The two of them were very much being ignored. The SkyWing guards in the pulpit muttered among themselves, then split off to the dragons keeping watch over the clusters of dragons in the arena. They spoke among each other as well, and then they turned to the spectators and roared something. Skua couldn't hear their voices over the sound of the wind, but the clusters of dragons slowly began to take into the sky. Skua began to wonder why exactly the SkyWings were letting them go, then thought again. If no one knew where the dart had come from, then they had no leads. They would find the culprit eventually, though. Skua eyed Eclipse when he was approached. "You can bet on it," he growled. Though, where would they start? The healers and the royals seemed to only be interested in conversing with one another, and the rest of the guards looked to only know as much as they did. Most, if not all, of them looked confused about the source of the poison. "Where do we start? The healers don't even know where the poison comes from. If they don't know, then who does?"</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse sighed as the guards began to allow the crowds to make their way out. "I don't know," he turned to look at Skua who seemed to be getting more agitated as time went on, "I was thinking that maybe Sunrise might know something. She spends all her time reading old scrolls, or maybe my mom, but I don't think she'd tell us anything. Other than that I really have no idea." He dug the tips of his claws into the stone of the pulpit; anything to keep him remotely grounded with everything going on around them. He didn't really think they'd have much luck in finding out who was responsible or what this poison was. They were just two young dragons and if the healers and every guard who was here knew and saw nothing, what could they possibly do. Despite this he couldn't imagine just sitting around and doing nothing while the tenuous peace they'd lived in for years crumbled to the ground around them. As his thoughts ran circles around each other he noticed his mother had finished whatever conversation she'd been having with the guards, who began to hustle about and prepare for whatever came next, and she began to approach where he and Skua stood. She looked more weary and unsure than he'd ever seen her before and that sent a jolt of nerves across each and every one of his scales. If Brightstar didn't have any ideas then, in his mind, their chances of solving this crept closer to zero. Her eyes swept across the both of them, "I can't imagine either of you know much more than the guards, but if you happened to catch anything that they missed I'd love to hear it." Eclipse shook his head, he had been looking back towards Ash and Sunrise when everyone had begun to panic. All he'd seen was Ember falling to the ground. "Skua said something about a dart," he looked questioningly towards the silvery dragon, "but we already knew that. Did you see where in the crowd it came from? That could help."</s>	<\|message\|>Skua Skua frowned at his friend's reply. So, no one would really know anything about this poison. He tapped a serrated claw against the floor of the pulpit, glaring to the side. His mind rattled with different types of thoughts. Who? Why? It just repeated in his head over and over, only driving forward the anxiety in his chest. The flash of black scales caught his eye, and he raised his head, blinking at Brightstar. "A dart came from the midst of the crowd, but I didn't see anyone winding their arm up to throw it. It just... flew out of nowhere. Now that I think of it, I didn't see anyone that might have had bad intentions, either." Skua found this hard to admit, but he wasn't going to make anything up. One of the things that came from his mixed bloodline was the SkyWings' excellent vision, but even his eyes couldn't pick anything up. "I'm sorry," he bowed his head towards Eclipse and Brightstar. "If only I'd have been more observant..."</s>
<\|description\|>Dreamseeker Namesake: N/A Age: Young Adult Gender: Female Species: NightWing Appearance: Dreamseeker's scales are jet black with a very dark purple undertone, while her underbelly, claws, and horns are ivory white. Her eyes are the same dark color as most NightWings', though in the right light, one can see they are a very, very dark violet. The spines on her back are as dark as her scales, though the stars that speckle her wings are bright silver. Silver scales also line her neck, sides, and tail. She's known to constantly press her wings close to her sides in an attempt to be as small and overlooked as possible. Personality: Sweet, kind, and gullible. Dreamseeker tries to be the best dragon she can be towards others, and has a strong sense of empathy and sympathy. She's a bit nervous, especially when she's asked too many questions or is suddenly thrown into the spotlight. She loves the arts and prefers to draw, write, and read rather than becoming involved in something "greater than her", as her mother would put it. Though, she has a vicious streak of curiosity at times, and will often get in trouble for sticking her nose into business that isn't hers. Dreamseeker also has a small ego, though she tries her best to hide it. Short Bio: Dreamseeker was born in the Night Kingdom, alongside two brothers and a sister. Her father was never around, and so her mother had much disdain for her dragonets-- especially Dreamseeker, the least intimidating of them all. Her siblings often fought and bickered with one another, and she was much often the butt of many pranks and a victim of teasing. When she was old enough, she left home in the dead of night, and has been roaming Pyrrhia since. Other: - Dreamseeker can read minds. - Her favorite form of art is painting.</s> <\|message\|>Skua Skua frowned at his friend's reply. So, no one would really know anything about this poison. He tapped a serrated claw against the floor of the pulpit, glaring to the side. His mind rattled with different types of thoughts. Who? Why? It just repeated in his head over and over, only driving forward the anxiety in his chest. The flash of black scales caught his eye, and he raised his head, blinking at Brightstar. "A dart came from the midst of the crowd, but I didn't see anyone winding their arm up to throw it. It just... flew out of nowhere. Now that I think of it, I didn't see anyone that might have had bad intentions, either." Skua found this hard to admit, but he wasn't going to make anything up. One of the things that came from his mixed bloodline was the SkyWings' excellent vision, but even his eyes couldn't pick anything up. "I'm sorry," he bowed his head towards Eclipse and Brightstar. "If only I'd have been more observant..."</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse leaned a shoulder against Skua, silently making sure the other dragon knew he didn't at all blame him for not being able to notice anything, and gave him a faint smile. His mind was still reeling, running through all manner of questions and possibilities for what could have happened and why someone who do this. The only though that came continually to the front of his mind, no matter how hard he tried to shove it away, was that someone wanted to start a war with the Sky Kingdom. Brightstar simply nodded her head, looking lost in thought for a moment, "It's alright dear. Even the guards who were right up next to the Queen saw nothing, so I shouldn't have expected either of you to have seen any more than they did." She stepped past the two young dragons, briefly brushing her wings against Eclipse, "Go get some rest. It's been a trying day." She smiled warmly, if slightly strained, before leaping from the pulpit and soaring down to the crowds below. Despite what his mother told him, Eclipse found that he could not rest, even as the sun fell in the sky and the stars began to twinkle cheerfully he found himself pacing the length of his room in the palace; like some kind of caged beast. He let out a long sigh before stretching his wings, maybe a flight would do him some good. He was sure it wasn't the smartest idea to be out alone when someone was attacking royals, but he didn't care at that point, his room felt stifling and his darker scales would hide him well enough. Pushing open the doors to the balcony attached to his room he took a deep breath of crisp night air before leaping into the inky blackness and spreading his wings. The wind whistling by and rushing across his scales drove the meddlesome thoughts away as he soared down before looping back up and around towards the mountains. As he glided near the mountain that held the palace his keen vision caught a flash of movement on the stone slightly below him. He came to a stop, flapping his wings to keep him aloft, and stared at the place where he'd seen it; waiting for anything else. After a brief moment he saw the moonlight catch on black scales and for a second he thought it was his mother before remembering seeing her inside the palace with his father. No other NightWings lived in the Sky Kingdom, so they definitely should not be here. He moved slightly closer, but not close enough that he was at risk of being attacked, "Who's there?" he put more force into his voice, like his father did when ordering the young recruits around, "The festival is over. You shouldn't be here."</s> <\|message\|>Dreamseeker She always loved to fly. The night swathed her scales, rendering her almost invisible, even in the moonlight. It was the perfect opportunity to swing by the SkyWing palace in search of any clues to what had happened to Queen Ember. She had come to the Sky Kingdom to take part in her festival, which started with music and food and laughter and ended with screams and questions and tears. She tried her best to be careful in getting too close to the palace; she didn't want to attract any attention, especially the night after the assassination. Yet, her curiosity and concern had gotten the best of her, and she seemingly caught the eye of a rogue SkyWing that had been flying about at this time of night. Dreamseeker flinched at the curtness of his words. Oh no. She didn't want to be stopped by a guard-- or worse, a member of royalty. From this distance, she couldn't tell who it was that had started to approach her, but she wasn't keen on sticking around to find out. She tucked her wings close to her, diving away from the strange SkyWing and towards a nearby patch of woods. She had no chance at outflying a SkyWing-- even from here, she could tell his wings were much larger than hers. Her last resort was to lose him in the trees.</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse watched as the dark form dove away from him towards the swathe of forest that rested at the base of the mountain, "Hey! Stop!" If someone was skulking around they could know something about what happened to Queen Ember, and he wasn't about to let them get away. He owed that much to the rest of his family. He flapped his wings hard, gaining altitude instead of directly following the other dragon downward. The extra height would give him extra speed, so he could hopefully catch whoever this was before they vanished into the night. He felt immensely grateful for the rigorous training his father had put him through to improve his flying skills as he climbed high into the air and positioned himself so that he could fall into a steep dive. He couldn't help a slight grin at the rush of wind as he tucked his wings into a spiral and fell back into the dive; quickly gaining speed and distance on the black scaled form he could just catch sight of nearby the canopy of trees below. His own dark scales allowed him to blend well into the deep blue of the sky, while his SkyWing blood gave him the pinpoint vision needed to track the slight silver and white accents he could see on their scales. The other dragon was small and certainly fast, which slightly threw off his trajectory. He still fell close enough that he was able to snap out his wings and buffet the smaller dragon across the neck and jaw. "Stop running!" His voice came out as more of a low growl, fully intending to intimidate them into stopping if he couldn't do so physically. As his wings caught the air and pulled him slightly back into the sky, he kept a close eye to see what the other would do. He honestly wished that Skua had been out here with him; his friend was actually a guard and certainly would've known more about what to do in a situation like this.</s> <\|message\|>Dreamseeker Perhaps Dreamseeker was hoping for too much when she thought that the shadows would whisk her away from view. But when she felt the SkyWing back on her tail-- no, not on her tail, but so close to her he was able to touch her with his wing-- she couldn't help but gawk. Oh no, no, no! You're supposed to go away! she thought haplessly, her wings flapping harder as she dove straight into the forest. Maybe she could lose him if she ran. Maybe-- O-ow! she winced as she landed. Her front right leg wrenched in such a way that it sent shooting pain up her wrist and forearm. In a panic, she tried to rush off into the underbrush, but the splitting pain made her let out a little whimper. Well, then. There was no getting away not. Alright, Dreamseeker. Just try to make yourself look scary. Maybe, if you look scary enough, he'll just run away and leave you alone. She heard the SkyWing land behind her. Dreamseeker whirled around, showing her fangs as she flattened her ears. "G-go away!" she snarled as viciously as she could. Her wings flared as her tail lashed back and forth. "Just so you know, I'm a NightWing! I-I can tell the future and read minds! Oh, a-and I'm an animus! Yeah! So fly away before I turn you into a salamander, or something like that!" Oh yeah, Dreamseeker. Totally scary.</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse felt the ground under his claws give a bit as he landed in the soft forest dirt and heard the faint whimper come from the NightWing as he got closer. He felt slightly bad at having caused her to get injured in the fall, but since that his intent in the first place was to get her on the ground he supposed it counted as a success. He took a step closer even as she bared her teeth at him and flared her wings. He was much bigger than she was, but he knew never to underestimate an opponent no matter how unassuming they might be. He flared his own wings, the moonlight coming through the canopy catching on the galaxy-like patterns on their underside. He raised his neck up and bared his teeth in a low snarl. A snarl that almost turned into a snort at her stuttering attempt at a threat. "My mother is a NightWing and she doesn't have any powers like that." He didn't let his guard down but looked over her closely. He had no idea what an assassin might even look like. He narrowed his eyes, tail twitching nervously, "Why were you around the palace so late?" he felt a growl building up in his chest, "Were you responsible for the death of the Queen? Trying to come and kill another one of us?" His tail went from twitching to lashing at the thought of standing in front of the one who killed his aunt. His claws dug into the ground and he prepared himself to lunge forward at even the slightest move from the NightWing.</s> <\|message\|>Dreamseeker Her eyes widened when she saw the size difference between the SkyWing and her. He was a male, so it was to be expected, but what surprised her the most was the pattern of silver scales on the underside of his wings. He's part NightWing, she realized before he even said so. Moons, this was bad. Usually other types of dragons would be unwilling to mess with one of her kind. But this dragon knew exactly what she was capable of. And he very much thought that she was less than scary. Her whole master plan was going awry, and there was nothing she could do. If only she could tell the future. But what if she saw herself being thrown in a prison cell? Would that bring her any comfort? His words did interest her, though. Dreamseeker perked up, still on the defensive even as she realized something. He thought she was the one that killed the queen? "Wait, wait, wait," she arched her neck forward to peer at the other dragon. "I didn't kill anyone. I was trying to figure out exactly what happened to Queen Ember. I mean, I know she got killed and all, but the guards didn't say anything specific, and the whole commotion just kept on getting worse and worse--" She realized she was blabbering. Dreamseeker took up a more relaxed position in an attempt to appear less of a threat. Her wings tucked closely against her sides as she shifted into a sitting position. "I'm Dreamseeker, by the way," she murmured. "I didn't mean to cause such a fuss. I thought you'd want to arrest me. Or worse, kill me."</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse As the NightWing, Dreamseeker, introduced herself and relaxed her stance Eclipse let himself do the same. He folded his wings in but still kept his head held high, "I'm Eclipse, Queen Ember was my aunt," he huffed out a breath, a bit of smoke and flame puffing into the air in front of him, "If I found out you were somehow responsible you would be dead," he said perhaps a bit too harshly, it'd been a rough day, and chasing down a rogue NightWing was not how he expected to spend the good majority of his night. The trees mostly covered the light of the stars and moon, so if she did have something to do with it and attacked him, well he didn't think anyone would find his body soon. He banished those thoughts with a shake of his head. He quickly assessed her now that she wasn't flying or threatening him. She certainly seemed much too small and timid to be responsible for something as horrific as Queen Ember's death, and she said she was looking into it. He felt a flash of confusion, "Why do you want to figure out what happened to her?" he turned his head curiously, "What does that have to do with you?" Maybe she knew something that none of the SkyWings did. She could have been closer, she could have seen something. Before he let his hopes get to high he focused fully on Dreamseeker, waiting to see what she might have to say.</s>	<\|message\|>Dreamseeker Well, it wasn't like she expected the SkyWing's serious attitude to dissipate. If anything, he was more confused than before. Dreamseeker caught a glimpse of his thoughts; he still perceived her as a threat. If she attacked him, there was no way that she'd be able to kill him, no matter how hard she would fight. She frowned a little at him, shaking her head. "I'm no threat, so no need to be worrying about me being responsible. I can't get my claws on anything that might kill a queen, no matter how much I'd try. Why would I want to kill Queen Ember anyways?" she asked him as she curled her tail around her feet. Her eyes didn't waver from his proud posture, ducking her head even more as she lifted up her injured foot further from the floor. It still radiated pain, and she could feel it swelling. His next words were as sharp as teeth. Dreamseeker couldn't help but feel a little injured, flicking her tail slightly. "I don't know about you, but I value the peace among the tribes just as much as any other dragon," she said a little hotly. "I was hoping to get a lead on what killed her. You still don't trust me, do you?"</s>
<\|description\|>Dreamseeker Namesake: N/A Age: Young Adult Gender: Female Species: NightWing Appearance: Dreamseeker's scales are jet black with a very dark purple undertone, while her underbelly, claws, and horns are ivory white. Her eyes are the same dark color as most NightWings', though in the right light, one can see they are a very, very dark violet. The spines on her back are as dark as her scales, though the stars that speckle her wings are bright silver. Silver scales also line her neck, sides, and tail. She's known to constantly press her wings close to her sides in an attempt to be as small and overlooked as possible. Personality: Sweet, kind, and gullible. Dreamseeker tries to be the best dragon she can be towards others, and has a strong sense of empathy and sympathy. She's a bit nervous, especially when she's asked too many questions or is suddenly thrown into the spotlight. She loves the arts and prefers to draw, write, and read rather than becoming involved in something "greater than her", as her mother would put it. Though, she has a vicious streak of curiosity at times, and will often get in trouble for sticking her nose into business that isn't hers. Dreamseeker also has a small ego, though she tries her best to hide it. Short Bio: Dreamseeker was born in the Night Kingdom, alongside two brothers and a sister. Her father was never around, and so her mother had much disdain for her dragonets-- especially Dreamseeker, the least intimidating of them all. Her siblings often fought and bickered with one another, and she was much often the butt of many pranks and a victim of teasing. When she was old enough, she left home in the dead of night, and has been roaming Pyrrhia since. Other: - Dreamseeker can read minds. - Her favorite form of art is painting.</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse opened his jaws to respond to her comment before snapping them shut. He didn't remember saying she might be responsible out loud. That was a problem for later. Just add it to the long list of problems he needed to deal with. "I don't know why you'd want to kill her, I don't know why the dragon who did kill her wanted to," he could feel that same rage bubbling up, not at Dreamseeker, but just the situation as a whole, "I just know that someone killed a member of my family, and for all I know there was no reason at all!" His voice grew to a near shout towards the end of the sentence as all the frustration of the day finally overflowed. He turned away from the NightWing for a moment, regaining his composure with an angry huff and a deep breath. He turned his head back towards her at her rather hot comment; noticing her favoring her leg and made a mental note that, in the event she proved trustworthy, to help her out with that. "I value peace but I know the one who did this definitely doesn't," he frowned at her as she asked about trust, "You haven't exactly given me a reason to trust you. You were sneaking around my home in the middle of the night. That's not exactly trustworthy behavior." He took a moment to just sit down and think; gazing up through the trees as if the stars above him might have the answers he needed. They knew nothing, not who did, not how, not why, and no one had even started anything else. What were they waiting for? The weakness that came with Ember's death would be enough for another tribe to attack them, yet nothing had happened. Maybe they were waiting for another moment of vulnerability. He sighed, the anger he felt giving way to a deep sadness. He hated the fact that this was what he had to be concerned about. If the next coming dawn would bring even more death to the people he cared for. He looked back towards Dreamseeker, "Did you find anything?"</s> <\|message\|>Dreamseeker Dreamseeker flinched a little at the waves of anger and frustration that flourished from Eclipse's mind. It surged through her own mind, nearly giving her a headache as she fought to maintain her composure. A little shudder flowed over her spine. She didn't know how it was like to suddenly lose a family member, but she did know how it felt to have an empty gap in the family picture when it should be filled. She felt for this strange, weird, half-noble-blooded hybrid. She wanted to walk up to him and brush his wingtip with hers, even if she hadn't known him for long. Her claws scratched into the dirt, lowering her head. So he didn't trust her. He didn't even need to tell her that. "I'm sorry," she admitted. "But I couldn't just walk up to the palace and ask to be let in, could I? I wasn't planning to stay for long. I just wanted to see the weapon that was used to kill her, nothing else." Her voice drifted off in a sigh, and she shifted slightly. Unfortunately for her, she wasn't able to completely block out Eclipse's thoughts. Some of them filtered in, all of them being worried and depressing and absolutely soul-wrenching. Yes, this meant war. Yes, this meant there would be more death, more suffering and fear and tears. "I didn't find anything," she admitted. Dreamseeker hesitated as she mulled over her next words. During her time sneaking around the palace, she was able to catch the thoughts of several guards. All kept wondering about poison... poison, dark, black poison... just like... "Oh!" she suddenly shouted, her head snapping to attention. "I... I heard some guards talking about poison? Like, black poison. No one knows what it is, but I might have read about something in a scroll recently," she explained. "Apparently, it comes from a creature in the rainforest to the very south of Pyrrhia. I'm not sure what, though."</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse shrugged, the last of the anger fading away just leaving him feeling exhausted, "I suppose not unless you had a good reason. Everyone is bit on edge as one would expect." It was in this kind of situation he wished his other friends were here, they'd definitely know what to do or say. His thoughts continued to run in circles as his claws dug into the dirt underneath him and his tail flicked slightly with nerves. "It was a dart. I went up and saw the healers with it. I had like a thick, black fluid on it." As Dreamseeker trailed off he let himself just rest for a moment. Dropping his head and sitting down with his wings resting on the ground. He felt way too tired to keep up the proud and intimidating facade that he had put up at the start. He continued to stare at the NightWing, he never was the best when it came to judging character, but she definitely didn't seem like a threat. He knew Skua would probably scold him for deciding something like that so quickly, but he was too tired to care. He jumped slightly at Dreamseeker's exclamation and his jaw dropped slightly. She knew something about what this poison was, that gave them a lead! He sprang to his feet, a rush of energy coursing through his veins, "That's brilliant!" he resisted the urge to rush forward and wrap his wings around the smaller dragon, and instead settled for grinning widely at her, "That's more than we had to go on before. You have to come and tell someone, I can vouch for you getting into the palace." He would also make sure she got her leg looked at by one of the healers. He flexed his wings, getting ready to take off once again back towards the palace.</s> <\|message\|>Dreamseeker Dreamseeker couldn't help but smile a little at Eclipse's excitement. She was glad to be able to help him out a bit, even if she had no direct business in what had happened. Though, her next suggestion made her flinch a little. Tell someone in the palace? Was that a good idea? She trembled a little. She never went into a palace before, not even in the Night Kingdom. The palace there seemed like a distant dream, or something of myth. How nice it would be for her to actually step foot in the SkyWing palace? But then everyone would be staring, whispering, wondering why a strange NightWing, whom they've never seen before, was in the palace the night after the assassination. But Eclipse was already ready to take flight. "O-oh, alright," she mumbled, lifting herself off the ground and spreading her wings in turn. It was far too late to start sputtering "if"s or "but"s. That, and she felt that this whole thing was more important than some butterflies in her stomach. "Lead the way."</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse could see a bit of nervousness from Dreamseeker as they both flapped their wings and headed back towards the palace, "We could tell my mother, Brightstar, or my friend Skua, he's one of the guards. Both of them are trying to figure out what happened to Queen Ember." His mother would certainly want to hear about a potential lead, she could get the researchers at the palace to look into it, and she might be more receptive to another NightWing than his hot tempered friend. He figured Dreamseeker might have an opinion one way or the other, she was the one who knew the information after all. He kept his pace slow enough so the smaller dragon could keep up, but he couldn't help the excitement that added a bit of power to his wings. Soaring up the side of the mountain he landed on the familiar balcony that lead into his room. He passed through the doors using a light flame to ignite some of the lanterns that hung from hooks on the walls. He turned back to Dreamseeker, "I figured it'd be easier to come in through my room than trying to convince the guards to let us in," he frowned slightly, "Who do you think we should tell?"</s> <\|message\|>Dreamseeker As Dreamseeker flew after Eclipse, she listened to his words. Brightstar-- his mother. Oh, right, he had told her that his mother was a NightWing. And Skua was... what was he? His name sounded like it could be SkyWing, IceWing, maybe both? She tried to scan his thoughts again, and she caught the sight of pale blue and fiery scales. Oh, so another hybrid. She mulled on the thought a little as she followed himself, landing a little clumsily as she tried to keep her injured leg off the floor. She couldn't help but peer around the room in interest. It sure was neat and clean there. "Good idea," she huffed at his explanation. She had been worried about what would happen if the guards at the front door didn't take well to her presence. Dreamseeker blinked, flicking her tail. "Well, uh, how about your mother, Brightstar? Like you suggested, maybe she would be more willing to listen because I'm a NightWing as well."</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse gave a nod, paused for a moment, he remembered thinking that, but not saying it out loud. Weird. He shook his head slightly, his mother was of the reasonable sort, so hopefully she wouldn't jump to any conclusions. He walked towards the door, past neatly packed shelves of scrolls and racks of knick knacks that he'd collected over the years, and opened it; peering out in either direction down the halls of the palace to make sure their weren't any guards immediately nearby. He could see a few at the ends of the halls, thankfully their backs were to them, at least for now. He knew that he would be able to tell the guards to simply leave them be given his status, but he'd rather get to his parents room without too much trouble. "Once we go see my mother she can come with us to see the healers for your leg," he winced slightly, "Sorry about that by the way. I really didn't mean for you to get hurt." Apologizing wasn't really his strong suit so he was glad to get that over with. He took a deep breath before flicking his tail towards Dreamseeker to follow him a short ways down the hall. The walls were lit with torches held in neat sconces and neatly made tapestries hung in even intervals down the length of the hall. Thankfully his parents room was only a short distance away and he was able to push the door open and slip inside. The room wasn't lit but he could see the forms of both his mother and father wrapped around each other, sleeping soundly. He felt a pang of regret at waking her, but he knew she'd want to be told about this as quickly as possible. "Mom," he whispered into her ear, gently poking her side, "Wake up." Her large black head immediately snapped up and focused on Eclipse, before quickly falling on Dreamseeker standing behind him. "Eclipse? What's going on?" She gently untangled herself from Storm, "Who is this?" She pushed herself to her feet, dark eyes fixed on the smaller NightWing. Her gaze intense and questioning. "This is Dreamseeker," Eclipse whispered, as his mother's eyes flickered to him briefly, "She knows something about what happened to Queen Ember." At this, Brightstar's eyes immediately snapped back towards Dreamseeker.</s>	<\|message\|>Dreamseeker Dreamseeker realized that she might have been a little too brazen with what she said, but it was too late to correct that mistake. Luckily for her, the other dragon didn't press the strange happening. I have to be more careful with reading minds. He almost caught me there, she told herself as she followed him. There wasn't an issue with telling him that she could read minds. It was just that now wasn't the time or place. If she suddenly told him that, maybe he wouldn't trust her anymore. Maybe he would hand her over to the guards when he got the chance. I'll just tell him some other time. No harm in that, right? She perked up when he tossed an apology her way. Ducking her head, she smiled sheepishly. "No need to apologize. It was sort of my fault," Dreamseeker murmured, glancing down at her foot. At least it wasn't turning discolored or swelling more. It was probably just a bad sprain. Nevertheless, she was very careful not to put much weight on it as she continued to follow Eclipse down the hall. Her eyes scanned the walls and flickered to the nearby guards at the end of the corridor before she found herself slipping through a door. It was dark, but she could see two dragons entertwined deeper in the room. Luckily for them, the NightWing didn't seem to mind being woken up too much, and Dreamseeker dipped her head in greeting. "Hello," she whispered politely. Her eyes wavered to the SkyWing that shared the room with her. That must have been Eclipse's father. She shifted uneasily, trying to keep her mind on track. "I heard that the dart that killed Queen Ember was covered in black poison. I read a scroll that said that there's a creature in the southern rainforest that spits black poison, so the assassin might've gone there to gather it. I'm sure that if we check the rainforests, we'll get a lead sooner than later." She glanced at Eclipse, hoping that he'd give her a sign if she explained her well enough.</s>
<\|description\|>Dreamseeker Namesake: N/A Age: Young Adult Gender: Female Species: NightWing Appearance: Dreamseeker's scales are jet black with a very dark purple undertone, while her underbelly, claws, and horns are ivory white. Her eyes are the same dark color as most NightWings', though in the right light, one can see they are a very, very dark violet. The spines on her back are as dark as her scales, though the stars that speckle her wings are bright silver. Silver scales also line her neck, sides, and tail. She's known to constantly press her wings close to her sides in an attempt to be as small and overlooked as possible. Personality: Sweet, kind, and gullible. Dreamseeker tries to be the best dragon she can be towards others, and has a strong sense of empathy and sympathy. She's a bit nervous, especially when she's asked too many questions or is suddenly thrown into the spotlight. She loves the arts and prefers to draw, write, and read rather than becoming involved in something "greater than her", as her mother would put it. Though, she has a vicious streak of curiosity at times, and will often get in trouble for sticking her nose into business that isn't hers. Dreamseeker also has a small ego, though she tries her best to hide it. Short Bio: Dreamseeker was born in the Night Kingdom, alongside two brothers and a sister. Her father was never around, and so her mother had much disdain for her dragonets-- especially Dreamseeker, the least intimidating of them all. Her siblings often fought and bickered with one another, and she was much often the butt of many pranks and a victim of teasing. When she was old enough, she left home in the dead of night, and has been roaming Pyrrhia since. Other: - Dreamseeker can read minds. - Her favorite form of art is painting.</s> <\|message\|>Dreamseeker Dreamseeker realized that she might have been a little too brazen with what she said, but it was too late to correct that mistake. Luckily for her, the other dragon didn't press the strange happening. I have to be more careful with reading minds. He almost caught me there, she told herself as she followed him. There wasn't an issue with telling him that she could read minds. It was just that now wasn't the time or place. If she suddenly told him that, maybe he wouldn't trust her anymore. Maybe he would hand her over to the guards when he got the chance. I'll just tell him some other time. No harm in that, right? She perked up when he tossed an apology her way. Ducking her head, she smiled sheepishly. "No need to apologize. It was sort of my fault," Dreamseeker murmured, glancing down at her foot. At least it wasn't turning discolored or swelling more. It was probably just a bad sprain. Nevertheless, she was very careful not to put much weight on it as she continued to follow Eclipse down the hall. Her eyes scanned the walls and flickered to the nearby guards at the end of the corridor before she found herself slipping through a door. It was dark, but she could see two dragons entertwined deeper in the room. Luckily for them, the NightWing didn't seem to mind being woken up too much, and Dreamseeker dipped her head in greeting. "Hello," she whispered politely. Her eyes wavered to the SkyWing that shared the room with her. That must have been Eclipse's father. She shifted uneasily, trying to keep her mind on track. "I heard that the dart that killed Queen Ember was covered in black poison. I read a scroll that said that there's a creature in the southern rainforest that spits black poison, so the assassin might've gone there to gather it. I'm sure that if we check the rainforests, we'll get a lead sooner than later." She glanced at Eclipse, hoping that he'd give her a sign if she explained her well enough.</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse watched his mother carefully as Dreamseeker explained what she knew, trying to gauge any kind of reaction she might have. He watched her brow furrow and felt a slight sinking feeling. If she didn't know what it was then they'd probably have to go and try to get the information themselves. He'd never been to the rainforest, but he'd read enough scrolls to know that some dangerous creatures lived there. Not the RainWings, but other things. Clearly given what he saw happen to Queen Ember's scales it must've taken a great deal of trouble to get a hold of whatever this poison was. He gave Dreamseeker a nod and encouraging smile as she glanced his way before looking back towards Brightstar, "What do you think?" he kept his voice low, hoping not to wake his father, "Do you think it's worth looking into?" Brightstar continued to stare hard at Dreamseeker, "Yes, this is certainly more information than we had before," she frowned, deep in thought for a moment, "I've never heard of any kind of creature that spits a poison like that, but it is certainly worth looking into." She looked down towards where the smaller NightWing was favoring her leg, "Come. We'll have one of the healers look at your leg, and you can tell me where you read this information." With that she stepped out of the room, waiting in the hall for the two young dragons to follow. Eclipse looked back towards his father for a moment, who looked grief stricken even in sleep, his wings and claws twitching with restless energy. Storm and Ember had been closer than most siblings he knew, and if he was hurting this much from losing his aunt, he couldn't even imagine what the older SkyWing must be feeling. He didn't care what it took, he'd find the one responsible for hurting his family. As he turned and followed his mother out he whispered towards Dreamseeker, "You certainly got her attention. If anyone can get the right dragons to look into this it's her." He gave her a faint grin and offered her his shoulder to lean on as they began the walk towards the healers.</s> <\|message\|>Dreamseeker Dreamseeker fought to keep the slight smile on her face, though it was difficult with the way Brightstar was looking at her. It was as if she was being deeply scrutinized from the point of her horn to the tip of her tail. She was extremely tempted to just duck behind Eclipse and avoid the other dragon's look, but Eclipse's encouraging smile made her steel her nerves. Oh moons, was she trembling? Could they tell she was? Brightstar's gaze went down to her injured leg, and Dreamseeker looked at it, almost forgetting it was there in the first place. Her heart had been beating so fast, she hardly felt the pain anymore. But what came out of Brightstar's mouth were not words of scorn or dismissal. Instead, she was very much interested in what she had to say. She perked up as her eyes glimmered. Did she really believe her? If only she wasn't so nervous-- she could have checked herself. Her frantic thoughts subsided when she heard Eclipse whisper. Her smile a little more strained and nervous, she accepted his motion and leaned against him. "Thanks," she murmured back as she sent a glance towards the dragon that still slept. Something inside her stirred, and she couldn't help but feel saddened by the sight. The poor dragon was clearly tortured, even in his sleep. "I'm just glad she trusted me. I was worried that she wouldn't."</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse As Eclipse and the two NightWings began the walk to the healers, past a few guards who immediately snapped to attention at the appearance of both him and his mother, he responded to Dreamseeker's concern, "My mother is very good at reading others, insightful," he let out a slight huff, "She would have been able to tell if you were lying I think." He smiled lightly as he looked towards where Brightstar lead the way, "She is not a dragon to immediately pass harsh judgement without knowing everything she can." They rounded the corner and down a short staircase that led to the healers chambers. Thankfully there were no injured dragons that couldn't go back to their homes after the stampede that occurred after the attack, cuts and bruises were among the worst that he'd seen. He took a moment to appreciate the emptiness of the room, if he knew anything about some of the allies of the Sky Kingdom, they would definitely be seeking some kind of revenge. As the trio walked in Eclipse recognized the SkyWing that had been with Queen Ember, Cloud, who had several scrolls open across the floor and desk near the back of the room and the dart that had killed the queen nearby. Their brow was furrowed in deep concentration as one claw ran lightly across the words inked onto the pages. "Cloud," Brightstar called out, startling the other dragon out of their thoughts, "Would you come take a look at this poor dear's leg. I believe it's sprained." As the healer gave a nod and pushed the scrolls quickly aside; rushing about to grab the necessary supplies to wrap the leg, Brightstar turned back to face Dreamseeker, the her gaze softer than it was before, "Now if you wouldn't mind telling me where you read about this poison?" She sat down lightly with her tail wrapped loosely around her front legs, almost cat like in a way, her expression cautiously hopeful.</s> <\|message\|>Dreamseeker Dreamseeker found herself relaxing as Eclipse told her about his mother. That was a relief. She had met much harsher NightWings, well-studied or not. Many of them had a huge, almost aggressive ego. She had somewhat of an ego as well... well, not an ego, perse, but she was proud of where she came from. She tore herself from her own thoughts, giving Eclipse a comforted smile as she allowed herself to be guided down a set of stairs. As they descended, she expected to hear voices of injured dragons or of worried healers, but to her surprise, she was faced with an almost empty room. As Cloud began to tend to her leg, Dreamseeker turned to Brightstar. "I don't remember," she replied, disappointed in herself. She didn't think it'd be so important to remember. "I'm sorry, it was just something that I skimmed over. I never knew it was going to be this necessary to keep in mind." Once her leg was bound with gauze, she set it gently upon the floor. It still hurt, though not as much. Dreamseeker gave Cloud a grateful nod before she turned back towards Eclipse and Brightstar. "I'm sure it will be easy to find a venom spitting creature in the rainforest, though. Just ask the dragons that live around there. Who knows, maybe the RainWings will help out!"</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse felt slightly disappointed at not knowing exactly where the information had come from, that made it a little more difficult to verify, but it was still more than they knew before. He didn't have any idea what they would do about getting to the rainforest, not many dragons traversed the area beyond the RainWings that lived there. "That's alright," Brightstar gave a faint sigh, "It is something to look into and I'm grateful for that." She sat lost in thought for a moment. The scribes at the palace could potentially have some kind of scroll that mentioned these creatures, but she didn't know how long it would take them to find the information they needed, and by then it might be too late to waylay those who wanted revenge. Even if they didn't know who they wanted revenge against. "It might be a bit of wishful thinking that the RainWings would help us," Eclipse looked between his mother and Dreamseeker, "They've never been interested in helping out with anything before." Admittedly he only knew what he'd read about them, but the scrolls were usually fairly accurate and most of them had similar accounts. They would just have to see when they got to the rainforest; not that he would be going. He didn't think there was any way he could convince his parents to let him go out into virtually unknown territory after an assassination. He was surprised there weren't guards on him every second of the day. Brightstar stood and began to make her way towards the stairs, "I'll make sure the guards are aware of your presence so you'll have no trouble whenever you wish to leave." She turned and made her way, presumably, back to Storm and a restful night sleep. "What're you going to do now?" Eclipse turned his full attention on Dreamseeker, "Think there's still something else to find?" He was curious as to what this young dragon would do since she seemed to have much fewer restrictions on where she could go. Maybe she'd go to the rainforest and try to find this creature since she was so interested in figuring out the cause of Queen Ember's death.</s>	<\|message\|>Dreamseeker She caught a wave of slight disappointment from both parties, which made her droop her wings slightly. Dreamseeker wished she could help more, even if Brightstar said that she was grateful for the information. Even Eclipse stated that the RainWings would be unlikely to help because they usually cared mostly about their own things. That in itself was true. She gave a frustrated flick of her tail. Who else would know anything about the rainforest if not the dragons who lived there? She was sure that if they asked nicely, they would help--especially if a good queen had been assassinated using something from the forest itself. Dreamseeker nodded as Brightstar left before she turned to Eclipse. Her eyes widened at his question. What was she going to do? She couldn't necessarily go back home; she swore on her pride as a NightWing she'd never get close to her family again. But if not there, where? The Sky Kingdom wasn't a safe place, and the Kingdom of Sand was far too... sandy. And yet, there was another problem. Was she just going to sit on her tail and let this happen? Even now, there might be more dragons plotting and seeking to undermine Pyrrhia's peace. The very thought made her scales itch. "I... I don't know," Dreamseeker whispered, blinking. "I'm not sure if I could just stand by and let this happen. I-I mean, Queen Ember was assassinated. And I know what happened, and you know what happened, a-and... I'm not sure if I can just go ahead and ignore this. Maybe," she sucked in a breath, "maybe... just maybe, we should help. We could be heroes, you know? Actual heroes, not standing on the sidelines and waiting for help. I hate stories like that. Dragons waiting for heroes, waiting for someone to save them or hoping something bad wouldn't happen." She paused again, fidgeting a little. "S-sorry. I kind of got ahead of myself."</s>
<\|description\|>Dreamseeker Namesake: N/A Age: Young Adult Gender: Female Species: NightWing Appearance: Dreamseeker's scales are jet black with a very dark purple undertone, while her underbelly, claws, and horns are ivory white. Her eyes are the same dark color as most NightWings', though in the right light, one can see they are a very, very dark violet. The spines on her back are as dark as her scales, though the stars that speckle her wings are bright silver. Silver scales also line her neck, sides, and tail. She's known to constantly press her wings close to her sides in an attempt to be as small and overlooked as possible. Personality: Sweet, kind, and gullible. Dreamseeker tries to be the best dragon she can be towards others, and has a strong sense of empathy and sympathy. She's a bit nervous, especially when she's asked too many questions or is suddenly thrown into the spotlight. She loves the arts and prefers to draw, write, and read rather than becoming involved in something "greater than her", as her mother would put it. Though, she has a vicious streak of curiosity at times, and will often get in trouble for sticking her nose into business that isn't hers. Dreamseeker also has a small ego, though she tries her best to hide it. Short Bio: Dreamseeker was born in the Night Kingdom, alongside two brothers and a sister. Her father was never around, and so her mother had much disdain for her dragonets-- especially Dreamseeker, the least intimidating of them all. Her siblings often fought and bickered with one another, and she was much often the butt of many pranks and a victim of teasing. When she was old enough, she left home in the dead of night, and has been roaming Pyrrhia since. Other: - Dreamseeker can read minds. - Her favorite form of art is painting.</s> <\|message\|>Dreamseeker Skua wanted nothing more than to agree with Eclipse. These stupid RainWings were just asking for someone to bite them... or even set a few of them alight. He didn't really like the violent thoughts that crossed his mind, but there was little else to feel when you were suddenly caught between a rock and a really, really hard place. When he felt his friend's scales rub up against him, he leaned into Eclipse's form, seeking to ground himself before he exploded all over these stupid, brainless dragons. "I haven't had anything like that happen before. I'm sorry," Dreamseeker ducked her head, her ears drooping down like a sad dragonet. "But, something tells me that not all of the RainWings are going to be avoiding us. Maybe we could start asking around deeper in the camp, or maybe even try to learn about them. If they see that we don't have ill intent, they could start to approach us instead of the other way around. We'll even have the chance to ask about Handsome." Three moons, Dreamseeker really came up with ideas on a whim, didn't she? Not to mention they were all quite annoying, even if they did make sense and had the potential to make things easier for them. "Alright, where should we start?" he glanced over at the others.</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse couldn't decide whether he was angry or tired, probably both at this point. The only thing really keeping him going was the need for answers, and unfortunately they had none of those. Just more questions. He smiled slightly as he felt Skua lean into him, it was grounding for the both of them and that was something they needed at this point. It was either that or do something he'd would definitely regret later. He felt a little bad as he saw Dreamseeker's ears drop. He hadn't meant to accuse her of not being helpful because she certainly was. "I suppose that would be our best bet here. One of them had to have seen something, even if they weren't involved in it. At best we'll get information about who might be responsible, and at worst we figure out where someone who can help us is in the camp." He waved a paw through the air, "It's either that or we sit around here doing nothing productive until tomorrow when we meet with Queen Ardent, and I don't know about the rest of you but if I sit around any longer I'm gonna lose it." He paused at Skua's question, glancing off deeper into the camp where he could see the platforms and trees all intermingled together. It really looked like a maze to someone who wasn't familiar with the space. "Well there's plenty of dragons about and we don't really know the lay of the land here," Aardwolf finally piped up, "If we want to make sure it's someone who didn't hear us talking I say we just fly deeper in until we come across someone who looks reasonably friendly and willing to have a chat." Eclipse snorted softly. He made it sound so simple, but he did have a point about them not knowing anything about this place. As long as they stuck to the platforms though they should be fine. "Alright," he hefted himself to his feet, "Let's get to it then." He stepped to the edge of the platform looking up and down before leaping off into the sky towards one of the platforms he could see higher up and deeper in the forest.</s> <\|message\|>Skua And so, their misfit group of dragons delved deeper into the RainWing camp in search of Handsome. At first, they were only met by shy-eyed individuals who had certainly heard their conversation with Lemur and Hummingbird. But eventually they found less and less resistance. Unfortunately for them, many of the dragons didn't know where Handsome was. From what Skua could tell, it seemed like this Handsome was much unlike his name; he hardly was found in camp, would rather spend time by himself in the forest, and would never tell anyone where he was going. What shocked Skua the most was the fact that these dragons just didn't care about Handsome, and it wasn't like they didn't like him. They simply shrugged and said "I don't know" to most of the questions they asked. "This is getting us nowhere," Skua suddenly growled as they walked to another group of dragons. "Do these dragons even care about anything?" Dreamseeker sighed. "I don't think I've ever read anything like this about the RainWings. I thought they were a vicious, strong tribe that no one dared to cross," she murmured. "But seeing a tribe in such a degenerate state hurts my heart. Just about any other tribe could come and conquer them in a heartbeat. It's terrible..."</s> <\|message\|>Viper It had already been a very busy day for Viper. There were so many dragons that had come to see Queen Ardent and her claws hurt from scribbling on the scrolls that she kept in the room. They were still covered in ink as well and she knew that would take ages to wear off, but it was something she was proud of. It was a symbol that she could do something important for her tribe. Now Queen Ardent was taking a break and she wanted to find these strange dragons that were visiting. It was so exciting! She hadn't met any new dragons in so long. Her normally light blue scales swirled with yellow as she scanned the platforms for anyone she didn't recognize. Ah, there! There was no mistaking the unusual stature and strange colors of foreign dragons. They seemed to be wandering from group to group of lounging RainWings, for what reason she had no idea, but she definitely wanted to find out. As she landed she heard the grumble from the spiky one, but she didn't quite catch the mumbled words from the small, black one. Did other dragon's scales show emotion? Did that mean she was upset about something? That wouldn't be good. She wanted their visitors to have a nice time here. "I wonder why it's like this. Does their Queen just not care?" She heard the comment from the dark red dragon and frowned; her scales tinged an emerald green. "Of course Queen Ardent cares about us," she flapped up and over their heads to land on the platform in front of them, "She spends all day every day listening to the problems we have and coming up with solutions." The red dragon blinked in surprise before giving a sheepish grin, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude." Well he was very polite. She gave them all a bright grin, scales now her usual pattern of light blue and pink. "I heard there were some new dragons hanging around and I just had to come see. You all look like you could maybe use some help with something? Queen Ardent always tells me that I am very helpful so maybe I can do that for you all as well!" She paused in her ramblings for a moment, "Oh! I'm Viper by the way. What's your names?"</s> <\|message\|>Skua Skua was about to open his mouth to answer his friend when another RainWing approached them. Almost immediately, he felt some sort of contempt towards this dragon; he expected her to be another brainless, scaly beast that only cared about what fruit there was to eat. Surprisingly, she showed some brains as she spoke. Skua forced himself to relax in her presence. "Hi, Viper. I'm Dreamseeker, and this is Eclipse, Skua, and Aardwolf," Dreamseeker motioned to the rest of them with a careful wing. "It's very nice to meet you. We were just exploring the place and trying to get to know the RainWings of the tribe. I heard that there was a dragon named Handsome around here. Would you know anything about him?" It was so difficult to not say anything. He clenched his jaw and forced himself to hold his tongue. If they were lucky, Viper would know something about this Handsome character.</s> <\|message\|>Viper Viper's head turned to each dragon as Dreamseeker pointed them out, her eyes wide and excited. "Wow, those are really cool names!" she chirped, "And your wings are so pretty!" She dipped her head down a bit to look at the silver star-like scales on the underside of Dreamseeker's wings as she gestured. She smiled warmly at the others, all of them looked so different than even some of the other dragons that she'd seen occasionally show up in the forest, and most of the time those dragons were all from the same tribe. These guys were super interesting. Her scales brightened to a gold hue and she nodded, "Of course I know Handsome, I know most everyone in the tribe since I work with Queen Ardent almost every day. He's actually pretty quiet and likes to spend time by himself. I've tried to get him to open up and chat with me," she shrugged, "but he doesn't really seem interested." That was ok though, she still liked him even if he didn't want to talk. She paused for a moment tapping her chin with one claw, "I think I saw him heading out into the forest. There's this one little waterfall and oasis out there that I know of that he likes to spend time at. Does that help?"</s> <\|message\|>Dreamseeker Dreamseeker flushed with warmth when Viper complimented her wings. No one really said anything nice about her before, especially a total stranger. Suddenly much more timid than before, she pressed against Eclipse for support. "U-uhm, thanks," she murmured as she forced a smile onto her maw. The poor RainWing wasn't at fault for her shyness, and she hoped that she wouldn't think anything wrong about her. Her mind almost went to press along Viper's thoughts, but she stopped herself. No. There was no point in reading her mind. Not yet, anyway. She perked up when Viper said she did know Handsome-- and pretty well, at that. Apparently, she also worked with Queen Ardent! This was a dragon that they couldn't afford to let slip away. They could learn so much from her. "Oh, thank you so much, Viper. It means a lot. Would you mind taking us to the waterfall? I don't think these guys would appreciate it if we got lost in the forest," Dreamseeker asked.</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse The warm smile stayed on Viper's face, "You're welcome!" Dreamseeker seemed like a shy one, but that wasn't going to stop her from trying to make friends with the small NightWing. She glanced around at the other dragons in the group, "Not to say that the rest of you don't have wonderful looking scales," she said quickly. It felt a bit rude to only say something nice about one of them. She saw Eclipse lean slightly into Dreamseeker as she pressed up next to him and slightly extend one of his own starry wings to rest gently on her back. Yep, definitely an interesting bunch. She sighed a bit with relief. She wanted to make a good impression and help them out and it seems like that was what they wanted to hear. "It would be my pleasure! Getting lost in the forest is not fun and it's super easy to if you don't know where you're going." She turned and waved at a few other RainWings that were resting on the platform before leaping off into the trees and gliding a short ways before turning to wait for the rest of them. "Looks like we finally got lucky." She heard the SandWing say to the rest of the group as he and Eclipse leapt off the platform after her.</s>	<\|message\|>Dreamseeker Aardwolf's words ran true in her mind. It really did seem like they got lucky. They finally met another RainWing that was actually happy to help them rather than, for lack of a more sympathetic word, oblivious and uncaring. Her wings fanned out as she leapt to follow behind Viper, her eyes bright with interest. Perhaps this Handsome character would actually make light of what was going on around them rather than give them a half-smile and a nervous gaze. They flew through the forest for a while. The troupe of dragons swerved around big trees laden with vines, flew over crooked branches, and passed several types of colored birds that Dreamseeker stared at with admiration. This place was truly a paradise, hidden away from open skies, extreme heat, or the freezing rain and cold. She felt a little jealous for the RainWings-- they could really flourish if they had the ambition to do so! Her thoughts were interrupted when they came upon a little opening in the forest. The ripple and splash of water reached her ears, and she perked up to see that they had arrived at said oasis. Her eyes widened at the sight of the large pool, dyed green by the color of the surrounding trees. A small waterfall arched over some mossy rocks at the top of the hill and splashed down into the pool, making the green mirror ripple with even more colors than usual. They glided down to the peaty floor, with Dreamseeker leaning over to look past Viper. Just as suspected, there was a dragon there. Though, unlike the other RainWings, his scales were grungy and gray, like overcasting clouds that threatened storms, or black ink diluted with water. He remained facing away from them, even as they approached, and Dreamseeker did not dare call out to him. It was better if Viper did the talking at first; this dragon just reeked of bad vibes.</s>
<\|description\|>Timothy Spencer Wolfe --- --- Aspiring Pokemon Breeder \| Tim \| 16 Appearance: Tim is noticeably short for a young man his age. It's not something he likes people bringing up. Despite seeming weak and fragile based on his personality, he is actually stronger than he looks. He has a slender, but still toned build and is physically fit due to having spent a lot of time running around outside chasing his Rockruff. He spends a good amount of time in the sun so his skin is lightly tanned as a result, not pale but not bronzed either. He has a mop of black hair on top of his head, and his bangs go to his eyebrows. He has big brown eyes, a small nose, and a round "Babyface", which give him a youthful appearance. His face is clean-shaven, and his upper body is free of any hair except the top of his head and eyebrows. A lot of people consider him cute, but Tim finds getting that kind of attention embarrassing. Tim prefers to dress simply and casually. He doesn't want to have to fuss with his clothes, or worry about ruining them, as well as being comfortable in them. His usual outfit usually consists of a T-shirt, shorts, and sneakers. His favorite shirt is a loose-fitting light blue T-shirt with a white silhouette of a bird on it. He wears a pair of white cargo shorts on the bottom that are held up by a black leather belt. His footwear of choice are a pair of comfortable blue and white sneakers and short white socks. He also wears a light blue knit hat on top of his head that his mom knitted for him. He carries a blue backpack to store whatever essential items he might need to have at the moment. Background: Tim was born in Olivine City. His parents had a hard time concieving a child, and when Tim's mother did finally get pregnant, the pregnancy was very difficult on her. When they finally had their son, he was their miracle baby. Tim's parents weren't rich, but they did all they could to give their son a good life, and give him every advantage. While they expressed having high hopes for their son's success, they tried not to put too much pressure on the boy. For the most part, his life was normal. Tim was often a target of bullying because of his shyness, tendency to get scared easily, and because he was clumsy. No matter what he did to get them to stop it, it always failed or they found something else to give him crap about. It gave him self-esteem issues, resulting in him becoming even more timid. As a result, he had very few friends growing up. He didn't tell anyone about the bullying, lest it become worse. He saw other kids get beaten up much worse after they snitched, and he didn't want that to happen. So he kept it all inside and let his resentment build. From an early age, he always had a special talent for caring for Pokemon. His mother was a Pokemon doctor, while his father was a professional Pokemon Breeder, Tim often volunteered taking care of the Pokemon at his mother's office, or his dad would bring home some of the Pokemon he was looking after, so he practically grew up around Pokemon. They seem to be fond of him due to his softspoken nature. He often finds sick, or injured Pokemon and cares for, plays with, and feeds them when no one else will. Around Pokemon, Tim felt much more like himself. He found relief from the stresses of life, and he's found they are the best friends he could ask for. He always knew he wanted to do something with Pokemon when he gets older. He just wasn't sure what. Tim was very excited when he received a Pokemon Egg on his tenth birthday, and more excited when it hatched into a Rockruff. Life continued as normal for the boy. The bullying he went through still had an effect on him, which is why he doesn't talk to others all that much. After he finished school, Tim knew what he wanted to do with his life. He wanted to raise and care for Pokemon just like his parents do. Knowing this, his parents enrolled him at the Pokemon Masters Academy. It was a school mostly known for battling, but they did have plenty of programs dedicated to the care of Pokemon. Tim demonstrated a knack for the subject and got in, but he is very nervous about starting at a new school. Mainly about having to interact with new people, and possibly get bullied again. Personality: Tim is a shy and quiet individual by nature. He was always this way, and being bullied as a kid didn't help. He is very sensitive and emotional, and has an easy time showing empathy and compassion for others. He can easily be driven to tears when he's sad. He fears being bullied. He usually speaks with a quiet voice, and occasionally a stutter when he's nervous. He also becomes very apologetic when someone shows any hint of being upset. He likes Pokemon of all kinds. From the cute ones to the not so cute ones, he can find something to love about every species. He usually prefers being with Pokemon than with people. Pokemon will listen without judgement, and only expect a little kindness in return. He is gentle and softspoken, which seems to be the reason why he has such an easy time with Pokémon. He gets scared easily, his worst phobia being stage fright. He gets really nervous when there are a lot of people watching him do anything. He's scared that he'll mess up, and that he'll be laughed at. He has self confidence issues, and he dislikes being the center of attention, in a good or bad way. He really wants to be brave, but it's harder than it looks. Despite being shy, he is by no means antisocial. If you talk to him, you'll find he's quite friendly, and polite. He can laugh and make jokes like any other kid. He is always happy to have to new friends, because his shyness makes it difficult to make them. He is very affectionate and loyal to those he likes. He hates it when people are angry around him, so he tries his best to keep the peace. In conversations, he is usually more of a listener than a talker, and he has no problems being a sounding board when someone wants to vent (As long as they don't hurt him.) Tim is very kind to others, often to a fault. He is very trusting of people, and is willing to give them the benefit of the doubt. Tim is usually very difficult to anger, and is very quick to forgive someone when he does get mad. He is more likely to start crying when he is upset. He doesn't want to burden others with his problems, and he fears being made fun of, so he keeps them to himself. This causes him personal frustration, and he occasionally acts passive agressive towards those he disagrees with. When it gets to be too much, he'll lash out at the target, and let out his pent up rage. He dislikes bullying (towards himself or others,) as well as people being needlessly cruel to Pokemon. Doing one of those things is the best way to get him upset. Tim is very careful and calculating. He always thinks before he speaks, and prefers not to wrecklessly jump into danger. However, due to his insecurity he is often uncertain if the choices he makes are the right ones. He can easily be convinced to change his mind. This leaves him with some anger when the plan fails and he knew his original idea would have worked. He also doesn't like violence all that much, having been a victim of it. He will participate in Pokemon battles, but only because his Pokemon want to participate. Although he doesn't look like it, Tim has a big appetite. He likes eating many different kinds of foods, and has the cooking skills to match. That being said, he is a vegetarian. (He'll eat dairy and eggs, but no meat.) What are some ways you would like to affect the story: Character development for Tim first and foremost. He is like Fluttershy from MLP. He's very shy and timid, and over time he will learn to be brave and stand up for himself. He'll also proably gain some self esteem over time, and learn that he is not weak and lame. Encountering a legendary would be cool, but not really a requirement. Tim isn't much of a fan of battling. He thinks Pokemon Contests are cool, but he's too shy to perform in one. His personal goal is to raise and care for a ton of Pokemon. --- --- Rocky --- --- Rockruff ◼ ♂ ◼ Friendly \| Hyper ◼ Own Tempo Rocky is very friendly and full of energy. He loves meeting new people, and Pokemon, and can be seen chatting them up, as well as acting cute to charm others. He enjoys attention, and likes putting on a show to get attention. Although he knows better now, he still views Tim like a father, since he raised him since he was born. He is very affectionate with his trainer, and often licks his face, or nuzzles his ankles. Unlike his trainer, Rocky actually likes taking part in Pokemon Battles, which is the only reason Tim does them in the first place. He is out of the Pokeball more often than not, and is usually being carried in Tim's arms, or walking alongside him. He has also very energetic, and likes running around and playing a lot. Rocky is very friendly and full of energy. He loves meeting new people, and Pokemon, and can be seen chatting them up, as well as acting cute to charm others. He enjoys attention, and likes putting on a show to get attention. Although he knows better now, he still views Tim like a father, since he raised him since he was born. He is very affectionate with his trainer, and often licks his face, or nuzzles his ankles. Unlike his trainer, Rocky actually likes taking part in Pokemon Battles, which is the only reason Tim does them in the first place. He is out of the Pokeball more often than not, and is usually being carried in Tim's arms, or walking alongside him.</s> <\|message\|>Zaria Brightly --- Zaria blinked. Wait... We got a hit? And the Charmander isn't attacking! Instead, she heard the frustrated cry of the fire lizard and realized it was paralyzed into place. Wow! He's paralyzed! There was no other way to go about than keep going for attacks, Zaria thought. They had gotten a hit in, and now she was a little more confident that they'd be able to get in others. Hopefully Rorie wouldn't keep going for Smokescreen, but perhaps they could defeat their opponent before they used the move again. "Another Thunder Shock!" Magnet let out a jagged lightning strike of bright yellow green electricity once more. Magnemite (Magnet) -lv 10 / Ability: Sturdy/ Thundershock, Supersonic, Thunder Wave, Tackle PP: 13 * Pokeball x5 * Oran Berry x5 * Cheri Berry x1 * Pecha Berry x1 * Rawst Berry x1 * Chesto Berry x1 * Aspear Berry x1 * Persim Berry x1 * Leppa Berry x1 * Hidden Power</s> <\|message\|>Antoinetta Lavern Mellona's carapace bore scratch marks, but Emmy clearly fared worse of the two from the successful Struggle Bug. Seeing the smirk wiped off of Nicholas' face, Antoinetta laughed, partly from relief. For all her fears, was this battle going in her and Mel's favour? Not that she could relax just yet, as Nicholas' taunt reminded her. Something nobody had been able to beat before? Surely he was just talking tough...? Judging by his next command, he had to be. Netty chuckled again. "Nobody except us just now," she jeered. "Mel, again, Gust." Once more, Mellona whipped up a mini tornado. Was Nicholas really that forgetful and overconfident, or was this Quick Attack part of a bigger plan? With a gut feeling that it was the latter, Netty watched the round unfold. 13 * Combee (Mellona), lv10 Current moves: Sweet Scent, Gust, Struggle Bug, Bug Bite * Pokeball x5 * Oran Berry x5 * Cheri Berry x1 * Pecha Berry x1 * Rawst Berry x1 * Chesto Berry x1 * Aspear Berry x1 * Persim Berry x1 * Leppa Berry x1 * Hidden Power</s> <\|message\|>Troy Caecilius Troy So his strategy is to give up on evasion or defense and take the hit directly using acid armor as a crutch. It's one thing to know your limits and change your strategy accordingly. It's another entirely to give up on the desperation play and hope things will work out if you ignore it. There is no attack stronger than Rollout once it gets going. If nothing is done about it now, then no amount of acid armor will save Gulpin, and even if Gulpin manages to stop Shuckle later, the damage will have already been dealt, and the war of attrition will have been all but won before it even starts. "Follow through!" Shuckle continues to speed up, flying at Gulpin with an increasingly magnificent plume of rocks and dust trailing behind. Shuckle Lv. 10 Ability: Sturdy Item: Berry Juice - Power Split - Defense Curl - Rollout - Infestation Full moveset: Level-up moves: Withdraw (lv. 1) Wrap (lv. 1) Rollout (lv. 5) Struggle Bug (lv. 10) Power Split (lv. 35, as an exception to make things less boring) Power Trick (lv. 55, as an exception to make things less boring) Previous generation exclusive moves: Bide (lv. 1) Constrict (lv. 1) Mud-Slap (egg move) Egg moves: Acid Acupressure Covet Defense Curl Final Gambit Infestation Knock Off Sweet Scent Toxic Learned TMs: Hidden Power (Electric based on ivs) Poke Ball x5 Berry Juice x3 TM Hidden Power x1 Cheri Berry x1 Chesto Berry x1 Pecha Berry x1 Rawst Berry x1 Aspear Berry x1 Leppa Berry x1 Oran Berry x1 Persim Berry x1 PP: 13</s>	<\|message\|>Timothy Spencer Wolfe The Yamper yelped as it got knocked back by Rocky's tackle. Tim couldn't help feeling bad for it. Hurting innocent Pokémon wasn't something he liked doing. But the Yamper's trainer was a jerk, and needed to be taught a lesson. He went in for the discharge. Tim sighed. "I feel bad for Pachi. He's adorable, and a good boy. It's just unfortunate he gets stuck with an awful trainer like you. Rocky, blind him with Sand-Attack!" Rocky barked as he turned around, and kicked up sand in the Yamper's face. Rocky the Rockruff lv. 10 Tackle* Sand Attack* Double Team* Leer* Endeavor Last Resort Thrash 5 pokeballs, 5 oran berries, 1 cheri, 1 pecha, 1 rawst, 1 chesto, 1 aspear, 1 persim 1 leppa berry Hidden Power TM PP: 13</s>
<\|description\|>Antoinetta Lavern --- --- Aspiring Coordinator \| "Netty" \| 16 Appearance: At 5'5", Antoinetta isn't particularly tall, but her presence makes up for this. She has a carefully cultivated air of sophistication about her, with her neat and stylish clothes, and her confident stride. She dresses more practically for travelling, but still has a put-together appearance. Her golden-brown eyes would be warm looking, if not for the expression of self-assuredness bordering on smugness she usually has. Most of the time, she wears her bright green hair in one or two braids, whether hanging down or coiled up. No matter how she styles her hair, thin antenna-like wisps stick up from it, to her annoyance. Background: Antoinetta was born in Sinnoh's Eterna City to an entomologist couple, and shared their love of Bug types. Growing up, she'd accompany them and other researchers to Eterna Forest and Floaroma Meadow, running around, climbing trees, getting dirty, and observing bugs in their natural habitat. It was a shame few of her peers thought highly of the type. Oh, some trainers favoured Bug types if only to challenge Grass gym leader Gardenia, but many found they lacked the impressiveness of Fire, Flying and Ice types, or simply viewed them as pests that ruined their plants. This made Antoinetta the subject of taunts, with people calling her "creepy-crawly" and "a nerd like her parents". Some people would pretend to film her and comment as if they were running a nature documentary: "The wild freak curls up in a defensive gesture after being pushed onto its back." She was all too glad when the family moved to the Marvalo region to study its vast range of wildlife. While she did have a few friends in Sinnoh - her closest being a female Combee she'd bring honey to in Floaroma - she decided it was time to reinvent herself like a butterfly leaving its cocoon, and make many more. The Combee never left her side, even allowing Antoinetta to catch her and bring her to Marvalo, but even so, the teen presented a "queen bee" persona of confidence and sophistication at her new school. It worked, the kinds of crowds that had rejected her before now accepting her, yet she still felt the need to prove herself. And what better way than by changing schools once again, to the glamourous and prestigious PMA? Applying shouldn't have been as nerve-wracking as it was - surely she could do this with no problem? - but she hid it well enough in the video she recorded of herself and her Combee. The speech she gave, and the impressive petal flurry from Combee's Gust, helped her get through the recruitment process. Personality: Some would describe Antoinetta as outgoing and sure of herself. Others would simply describe her as a showy, stuck-up snob. She likes attention (as long as it's positive), and is quick to get into situations she's unprepared for out of sheer overconfidence - or rather, the need to prove herself. The more successes to brag about, the better. Those who get past this will find she's in fact far from the airhead she seems; she's highly studious and determined, with good problem-solving and practical skills. Her experiences have taught her basic outdoor skills, such as berry foraging, repairs and navigation. She also cares a great deal about her friends and Pokemon - it isn't just herself she wants to prove, but her bugs, an "underrated" type, through battles and contests. That assured front hides the constant fear that her loved ones secretly dislike her, or will abandon her. What are some ways you would like to affect the story: I'd like emphasis on the competitive side of the academy, with her struggle for recognition, and the mistakes she makes along the path to success. A situation where she has to choose between a big event that would showcase her and her Pokemon's skills, and helping with a greater cause, would be interesting - maybe this subplot would have something to do with Genesect? As for her goals, her main one is to be a coordinator. The gym leader route is a possibility she'd at least consider though, since she's a type specialist, and would likely know about Ghost leader/coordinator Fantina. --- --- Mellona --- --- Combee ◼ ♀ ◼ stubborn \| hardworking ◼ Honey Gather A Combee Antoinetta befriended on one of her travels to Floaroma. She'd bring honey to her, and the little Combee took to returning the favour. When Antoinetta moved to Marvalo, Mellona chose to go with her, becoming her starter Pokemon. While the trainer and Pokemon usually get along, Mellona has little tolerance for Antoinetta's bigheaded moments, often buzzing her disapproval loudly in her ear. The three heads will even sometimes bicker among themselves over which kind of nectar to eat first, so they prefer fields and gardens with many different types of flowers.</s> <\|message\|>Timothy Spencer Wolfe Tim wished he could be as self assured as Antoinetta seemed to be. Alas, he knew he could never be that. He would rather sit in the background, raise the Pokémon, and watch the people with more confidence performing. People would just laugh at him if he tried. Everyone wanted to know what Troy's Pokemon was, and the others wanted to know it was, even Tim himself. Troy just coldly refused. What was so wrong about letting your Pokemon out to play? It would be good for the Pokemon to socialize with others. Tim didn't dwell on that for very long. The group finally arrived at their class. They were then greeted by two other students, a boy and a girl. Well, they were mostly greeted by the girl. The boy was just there, and only spoke up once. The girl apologized for the behavior of the others, but then said something about them causing a disruption. Disruption? What disruption was he causing? His Rockruff nuzzled somebody's leg, and barked? That didn't seem very disruptive... Then the girl, named Evey, asked Tim if his Rockruff was specially raised. He blushed, and shuffled his feet. What did that even mean? He cared for all Pokemon. Wasn't that special enough? "Oh... um... I-I-I guess so... My father bred him just for me as a birthday gift, and I've been raising him ever since he was a little baby puppy." He started petting his Rockruff's head. "Isn't that right Rocky?" Rocky let out a happy "Ruff!" In agreement. Rocky the Rockruff lv. 10 Tackle Sand Attack Double Team Leer 5 pokeballs, 5 oran berries, 1 cheri, 1 pecha, 1 rawst, 1 chesto, 1 aspear, 1 persim 1 leppa berry Hidden Power TM PP: 9</s> <\|message\|>Troy Caecilius Troy Troy didn't pay the closest attention to the conversation between Zaria and Antoinetta. He had mostly lost interest in the conversation when Tim rejected his offer and it wandered off into topics irrelevant, like what pokemon are supposedly ugly. Zaria's motives and methods remain to be seen, though the possibility that Troy was expecting something beyond reality out of her actions was creeping its way into consideration. Even with such a possibility on the table though, that does not rule out grander designs, which just makes it harder to guess whether her actions are an act or not. Either way, the conversation was taken over with the introduction of two new students. "Troy." Evey goes on about the interruption this morning. He had to admit, Zaria was really loud earlier, but it's not as if it was unprovoked, nor as if the faculty had done much about the situation to suggest they had any interest in keeping it from happening again. If this is how the PMA reacts to altercations between students, then it begged the question how competent the faculty actually were. It was always possible that staff competency outweighed their disciplinary shortcomings, but the school prefect wasn't instilling any faith. In any case, Masaru seemed interested in a battle, but wasn't requesting one directly. Judging from his demeanor and choice of company, he didn't trust Masaru enough to expect the battle to not have consequences. Troy wasn't one to turn a battle down, even if there were social risks, if only because the best training is always hands-on. However, there was a risk that Shuckle would be shut down altogether, gaining no meaningful experience and making the entire encounter a pointless waste of time. Troy's metaphorical trigger finger itched, but his team of one still had obvious weaknesses that might impede practical training. "If you're looking for a battle, you might have to wait a while." He didn't want to delay a battle unnecessarily, but as it stands right now, it was unclear how much he stood to gain from this, making it conflict with his goals. His team was too unbalanced, and as any one-man team is, utterly helpless against a variety of moves or ailments. Still... the allure of battle was tempting. Troy didn't want to rule out the possibility, so he gives a simple explanation that would let him work with a non-committal time-frame. "We have class, after all." Troy eyes the others, waiting to see if they had something to say or if it was time to just leave. Shuckle Lv. 10 Ability: Sturdy Item: Berry Juice - Power Split - Defense Curl - Rollout - Infestation Poke Ball x5 Berry Juice x3 TM Hidden Power x1 Cheri Berry x1 Chesto Berry x1 Pecha Berry x1 Rawst Berry x1 Aspear Berry x1 Leppa Berry x1 Oran Berry x1 Persim Berry x1 PP: 9</s> <\|message\|>Zaria Brightly Zaria Brightly --- The spat resolved itself quickly enough, but not without Antoinetta getting the last word. That was fine with Zaria, she had been past done at that point. She's probably just sensitive. People had insulted her plenty about her preferences of things, and that was supposed to be normal and fine, right? She'd had things she cherished made fun of before, and people had always told her she was being silly. Netty had probably had people saying yes to her all her life, Zaria thought with a roll of her eyes. She and her stupid contests, she fumed while trying to brush away the feather of jealousy that kept tickling her. Troy shot down her request, and though she felt a little miffed, she got over it pretty quick. Should she have been surprised? Probably not. When they reached class, a pair of students were waiting for them, though they seemed more intrigued by Troy and Tim. Again, Zaria felt a pang of inadequacy. Why hadn't anyone come up to her? Learning that their names were Evey and Masaru, she studied them, but once Evey started her reprimands she didn't want to listen anymore. Ughhhh, do they need to bring this morning up? I was the one who started the whole damn thing. Then I just shouted at everyone! Can't wait to forget about this... Too busy internally freaking out, she didn't notice anything else off about Evey, but Zaria did decide that she would avoid her at all cost anyways. Evey had made her feel awful about herself, and she tended to steer clear of people who did so, friend or foe or stranger. Her cheeks tinged with pink from embarrassment and her grin looking sheepish, she excused herself. "Yeah, class, so I'm gonna head in. See you guys," she said, slipping past her peers to the classroom where she could just sit and think. Magnemite -lv 10 (Magnet) / Ability: Magnet Pull/ Thundershock, Supersonic, Thunder Wave, Tackle PP: 10 * Pokeball x5 * Oran Berry x5 * Cheri Berry x1 * Pecha Berry x1 * Rawst Berry x1 * Chesto Berry x1 * Aspear Berry x1 * Persim Berry x1 * Leppa Berry x1 * Hidden Power</s>	<\|message\|>Antoinetta Lavern Troy's brusque reply earned a little frown from Antoinetta, but she didn't press. Was he worried his starter would get him laughed at? Or was he simply not in the mood to socialise? She couldn't blame him after the earlier fiasco. She strode alongside him into the Academic Wing, not that striding was easy when she had to stay on tiptoes to keep her balance. She tensed as she spotted two students standing outside class 2-A, looking right at the group as if they'd been waiting. The girl's smile, however, held no malice, only friendliness. Head up high, Netty returned the grin. "Hey, I'm Antoinetta, as you'll know." Not just from the name badge, but from her introduction earlier, which surely would have made quite the impression if only Zaria had been looking where she was going. At Evey's mention of the incident, Netty hid the flare of embarrassment behind a laugh. "Pffff, as if I'd let something like that get to me," she replied. "And nobody's gonna be making fun of us later down the line." Here, at least, was one exception to those jerks by the look of it. Masaru, though... Netty wasn't sure what to make of him. Much like Troy, his quietness and neutral expression made him difficult to read. As soon as he mentioned battles, Netty bristled again, ribs tightening. The challenge she'd issued, it seemed, was swiftly coming back to haunt them. She hadn't expected Evey's response to set off even more alarm bells. Just like that, the prefect's smiles-and-sunshine demeanour had given way to a rather less pleasant one, then switched back as if nothing had happened. Netty shuffled back a step. Something about Evey reminded her of those fake friends who turned against people when their guard was down. "Yeah, we'd better get to class," Netty answered, backing up Troy and Zaria. "Got to make sure everything goes smoothly from now on, after all. So, later!" Some chance of that, she thought, holding out a Pokeball to Mellona. "Hey Mel, time to come back now, but we can look around after classes." The Combee fluttered over, letting her trainer pet her once more, then disappeared into the capsule. With that, Antoinetta marched into the classroom after Zaria, wasting no time in taking a seat. 9 * Combee (Mellona), lv10 Current moves: Sweet Scent, Gust, Struggle Bug, Bug Bite * Pokeball x5 * Oran Berry x5 * Cheri Berry x1 * Pecha Berry x1 * Rawst Berry x1 * Chesto Berry x1 * Aspear Berry x1 * Persim Berry x1 * Leppa Berry x1 * Hidden Power</s>
<\|description\|>Oswald Krate Gender: Male Age: 30 Occupation: Writer/Historian District: North District Supernatural/Human: Human Any associated powers: Stand User-He can summon a manifestation of his spirit to defend himself against would be aggressors. It also allows him to pull out a book from a living organism, which will contain the history of that being's life. It is connected to the said being via a chain, and if broken, it would remove that creatures memories altogether. The book needs only be placed against the creature for it to be returned if broken. Even though stands can only be seen and interacted with by other stands and their users, those whom are undead, are able to at least see them, but ghosts can actually "physically" interact with them. Appearance: -Height: 5'8 -Build: Average -Eyes: Brown -Hair: Short, Dark Brown -Skin Tone: White -Personal Style: Wears a Bowler hat, a light brown tailed coat, white shirt, dark brown waistcoat and plain black trousers with simple black shoes. Personality: Oswald is a curious and curtious individual, respecting those who deserve respect, and making sure others feels at ease around him. He also has a habit of losing control of his temper when someone knocks off his hat. Backstory: Originally from North London, Oswald was always fascinated about the stories he was told by his grandfather. And ever so keen to learn more about the world and its many secrets, he would visit the library frequently. He would eventually work there for a time. During his twenties, he decided to go travelling around the country, purely due to his deep interest in history. And during a journey through Northern England, he visited the ruins of a small fort. Whilst climbing the stairs of a ruined tower, he had lost his footing, and expected the worst as he fell back, but was saved by a spectral hand grasping onto a sturdy bit of stone sticking out of the wall. At first he thought it a ghost or even a guardian angel come to rescue him from certain death. But he'd soon know how to use and control it. Years later, he would turn his historical research toward the colonies of the Americas, as it is a land rife with adventure and curios, as well as business and opportunity. The land had some quite interesting folk and locations, with equally as interesting stories in turn. He would go on to become an author for detailing and sharing these stories to all. Skills/Specialties: Oswald is a fast reader, and an accomplished writer. He has written four books already about some of the lesser known, and somewhat bizarre towns, in both the U.S and Canada. Though Serpent's Snag will prove to be the most bizarre of the lot.</s> <\|message\|>Barnaby Thorne Location: Shanty Town • Mentions: None Fall, 1768 "Control your breathing," came the whisper from behind. Barnaby looked on at the mark with intense concentration. The target was a middle aged man browsing the farmer's market, currently trying to size up a pair of apples before making his selection. "You have to move quickly and silently. You've got to stop being a man and become one with the breeze." Barnaby looked back to see his mentor, Draven, staring intently upon the mark as a lion would look upon an antelope. The advice nearly gave Barnaby a chuckle. He did't typically make it a point to associate with vampires, but Draven was the enemy of his enemy and so their mutual objectives created a kinship. While Barnaby was relatively new to life on the streets, Draven was rich with experience and lessons on how to survive. "He's going to feel my hand," Barnaby said quietly. "Then make him feel something else, first. No one pays any mind to hands being clapped to the left when there is an explosion to the right. Create your explosion before you make your move." His words were soft and velvet and the advice was sound. If he was going to pick this pocket and snatch the money within, he was going to have to mask his move with a larger move. For a moment, he thanked his lucky stars that Draven had found him and taken him under his wing. Despite being a vampire, Draven was the best friend Barnaby could ever hope for. Present Day, 1875 "I will render that blood sucking bastard headless!" Barnaby shouted into the ether as he looked upon the gossiping beggars. A fancy, dolled up enigma who seemed to have all the time in the world to acquire his fortune? The specter reckoned he knew who might fit that description. "I will watch and laugh with utmost satisfaction as that parasitic monster experiences the life slowly drain from his nigh immortal husk." The more he spoke, the louder he projected but the beggars seemed unphased by his outburst. It had become quite obvious that they couldn't see nor hear the ghost. Barnaby took a beat and tried to recall his senses. He must be calm and collected to take on a clever devil like Draven. His mind must be clear and calculating. Out of habit, as opposed to necessity, Barbaby took a deep breath before exhaling slowly. Finally, when his calm seemed to return, he inquired further. "This House. My days have been long and my memory's a bit more difficult to maintain than it once was. Remind me, where is The House." His question was met with indifference. In fact, the beggars seemed to not react at all. Barnaby gritted his teeth. He knew this meant they would be of no help. He would have to rediscover The House himself. "FINE!" He shouted, but this time his voice had a little something extra behind it. Like a noble in a carriage, his words rode on the back of a powerful fury that created a ripple in the ether. That ripple touched both the realms of the living and the dead, sending a small spontaneous gust of arctic breeze into the air around which Barbaby stood. The beggars paused and acknowledged the incident, but the anomaly was subtle enough that they soon brushed it off and went about their morning. It was no matter. Pieces of memory about The House of Earthly Delights was slowly starting to repopulate his mind. He was even beginning to remember how to get there from Shanty Town. The more he concentrated, the more he recalled and the angrier he got. He could take pleasure in one thing, though: It was time. He would have his revenge. Barbaby would paint the streets with the vile leech's blood.</s> <\|message\|>Jean Charpentier --- In the heart of the Night District rests a man in an ill-prepared, lidless casket yet he himself is neither ill, dying, dead nor undead. This makeshift box filled with hay and a solitary cloth sheet wasn't fit for anyone's eternal rest and the local carpenter knew that. So why was he sleeping in his latest craftwork? If he were to receive a visitor during the witching hours, he definitely did not want to be deep asleep in comfort. Jean Charpentier was no fool. Something strange (well, stranger than usual) was moving about late at night for the past few moons. He knew how the folks of the Night District traversed and they definitely didn't sound like a four-legged beast in heat, slobbering and howling at odd intervals. This noise has kept him up with at least one eye opened at all times. However, as the sun rises obscured by heavy haze over Serpent's Snag, Jean has no choice but to endure the next business day with what little sleep he has afforded for himself. His own casket will have to wait until he'll need it again. It wasn't every day he'd get to sell his woodwork but you can bet that there'd be some oddball bothering him during all store hours. Seems today wouldn't be any different as ol' Oliver Nightwell made his sly presence known by informing Jean about what was keeping him up at night and what will be keeping him alert during the day. Wolves aren't ones to be trifled with but law enforcement are a different kind of predator – more vicious and able to play with their food before going for the kill. Lawmen from all over have been the bane to the Frenchman for the majority of his life, stemming back from his memories as a child to a peasant class couple all the way to just before arriving in Serpent's Snag. Needless to say, he wasn't their biggest fan and he suspected Oliver told him this to rile him up. The carpenter had tried his best not to give him the satisfaction of getting under his skin by remaining inexpressive during their… conversation. Though Oliver was about to leave, the last part of his message was definitely cause for alarm. A slight twitch on Jean's mouth could be visibly seen before uttering "Thank you. Good bye." to the visiting vampire. While Jean had planned to keep a low profile for the rest of the day, the latest addendum to his agenda would make that virtually impossible. A known convicted runaway who had trouble with the law is surely going to be stopped and frisked, right? But surely his time as a law-abiding citizen in this town is enough to clear his slate. Surely, they'd leave him alone this time, right? These thoughts would ring in his head as he proceeded to pack his derringer in his inner breast pocket and travel to their arranged meeting location. Anything hungry for his flesh was going to get a side of lead served with it.</s>	<\|message\|>Oswald Krate Oswald watched as the carriage he arrived in leave. He then picked up his luggage and walked into a small, but comfortable looking hotel, on the main northern road of the North District, called the "Woodward Hotel". "Afternoon sir." Oswald greeted the man at the desk. On the inside, the hotel was quite comfortable, although still somewhat rugged. "Do you happen to have a room for one?" he asked the man. The man in turn barely spoke a word. He looked at his ledger, reached below the desk and pulled out a key with the room number embossed on it. "Thank you my good sir." Oswald simply said with a curtious nod. A man of few words it seems. he thought. His room was rather decently sized, despite the size of the hotel itself. He soon made himself comfortable, as he unpacked, and readied his gear so that he could begin work on his research. Looking out the window, Oswald remembered the snippets of information he'd obtained from the few folk whom came here. The city was apparently influenced by rival gangs, and there were also sightings of strange beasts and wandering spirits. But he had heard similar stories from the other locations he'd previously visited before, and they turned out to be nothing but stories. And so he was expecting the same here. He straigthened and readied himself, and then left the hotel to begin. Oswald took his time wandering the streets, and took in the sites. Whether it be the citizens going about their business, or the various shops or buildings he'd pass along the way. Every now and then, he would stop and make a note or two. Two hours later, Oswald obtained some information about trying the shanty towns if he wanted to learn some "real" history, as ghosts were alledgedly common there. Another fad no doubt, but he would entertain the idea anyway. The town apparently had its own museum, though it was rather small, and lacked anything worth noting. Next he made his way toward the city center, and visited the Seven Markets, noting the variety of its stalls, and the mixture of cultures found amongst them. He was impressed by the spread, especially given how obscure the city itself was. Wiping his brow with a sleeve, the heat starting to bother him, so Oswald found the closest place he could find to get a drink, "The House of Earthly Delights." Clearly an adult entertainment parlour. As long as they provide some comfort out of this weather, I do not care what it is. he thought to himself, and quickly made his way there.</s>
<\|description\|>Bonnie "Bo" Willard Age: Appears 21 Supernatural Race: Vampire Ethnicity/Race: Caucasian/Half Romanian Appearance: Vampire tattoo is on her back, in between her shoulder blades. Just breathes skater girl vibes. Personality: Bonnie is a tomboy from birth, cool-headed, always skatin', maybe steals something from the local 7/11. She's got that hipster teenage spirit. Bo is super friendly, talkative, a total extrovert, loves meeting new people and enjoys a good party. She might sound like the rowdy type at first, but she won't fight unless someone gets in her way, or hurts the people she cares about. She's a bit all talk and no bite at times (pun intended), but not for nothing, Bo won't hesitate to throw some fists with the other vampires in the area if it means she gets a meal. She's a bit lazy, doesn't like to do work, and certainly wouldn't go close to another educational system without a 10 foot pole. She's also not the sharpest needle in the haystack, any kind of theoretical or big question conversations go right over her head. History: Bonnie is a newly born vampire, and It's going okay. Well, she tries not to think about it for the most part. The whole, sucking people dry of their blood still feels immoral to her, but that insatiable hunger for human blood isn't so easily ignored. Bonnie was the youngest of 4 older brothers, and lived in Northern California for most of her life. From the start of her childhood she was always one of the boys, constantly going out to the skate park with her brothers, she hated her name for being so feminine and insisted on being called "Bo." Her mother's side of the family immigrated from Romania after the 2nd World War, and she never really got to know that side of the family. Her dad wasn't exactly the nicest person in the world, and would often force her mother to hide the Romanian culture from their kids. Almost ashamed of it in a way, there was a slightly bad reputation that came with it. Bonnie would never let that slide, however, and managed to get the folk stories out of her mom in secret. She eventually got kicked out by her parents for what they would describe as "lazy and irresponsible behavior." But she'll never admit to it. Bo would visit the skate park and stay late into the night, and that was where she met another mysterious skater. He was certainly vampiric looking, though she never really seemed to notice, and they hit it off, quickly becoming friends. Before she knew it, he had turned her into one of his own. Albeit, it was rather gruesome, and left her without a sire. She doesn't like to think about that night. Took her awhile to adjust to the idea that vampires actually existed. It's been about two years since she was turned, and she was still struggling with it. Strengths: Bonnie has the typical powers that come with the species such as enhanced strength, speed, senses, etc. She's also charismatic, independent, adaptable, overall chill gal, hype man extraordinaire. Weaknesses: She has the typical Vampire weaknesses. Sunlight doesn't kill it just badly burns her, wooden stakes will stun but not kill, silver, quite flammable, garlic doesn't do anything, religious imagery only if the user has faith. She's also lazy, unambitious and reckless. Doesn't seem to care much about the whole 'drinking peoples blood might kill them' thing, though It might be rooted in ignorance more than anything. Stance: Uncaring. Doesn't understand the war, and as far as she is concerned, would rather just skate. Special Power/Skill: Advanced Speed - In a blink of an eye, she can run from one place to another in a split second. Even faster when using a skateboard or other method of similar transportation. There's a sort of visible dark trail or dust that follows her whenever it happens. Wall Crawling - The power to fasten onto and climb vertical and horizontal surfaces without falling. Other: Pinterest Board - pinterest.com/sunrayee/bonnie-skater-… She enjoys playing pranks. Technically homeless, lives in an abandoned building in town. Blames everything on the asbestos.</s> <\|message\|>Call him Simon Peterson. Fae don't give out real names easily. Simon had, amidst all the... drama, frozen like a deer in the headlights. So Josip was pretty obviously a hunter and the other man - someone who he'd mostly heard called 'DarnDarn' but whose real name Simon believed was Darnies - was, for lack of better words, escalating the situation. Well, Josip technically escalated first, but regardless. Simon didn't really know what Darnies was - Simon always felt it impolite to ask, and didn't know the man well anyway - but clearly was ready to employ some dangerous magicks of some sort if the situation were to escalate further. Hell, he could feel the energy coming off the man from where he was standing.. The hunter likely wouldn't do anything rash - surely not with so many obvious enemies here? - but Simon felt like he had to intervene. "I-I'm sure my friend here realizes he should leave," Simon said. He heard his own voice skip on the first word and winced. First rule of the glamour - alway appear confident, and if possible, beconfident. He could feel the glamour weakening already - the hunter was clearly confident himself, suspicious of everyone here, and Simon had obviously tried to cover for a vampire. The glamour wasn't gone, but Simon would have to work to keep the man under his influence. Stepping out of the bar slowly, his hands up nonconfrontationally, he continued, "With so many of you in there and just us out here, what could he possibly do?" The wording was a risk - not the bit where he was outnumbered, which was obviously true, but the you and us parts. Simon was not on the Hunter's side and he was Fae, but not including himself with the supernaturals inside and instead with the hunter was meant to be a little more comforting for the man. Of course, if he saw the hypocrisy of the statement, he would likely become more suspicious, thus weakening the glamour more, but gambling wasn't about taking the safe choices. Taking another step towards the hunter, Simon added, "And besides, let's be honest - none of us want to cause a scene right now. It wouldn't end well for either side, really." Maybe not a guaranteed fact, but stating it like a fact could help the glamour convince the man that it was. Of course, the glamour wasn't just to convince the man of this at this point; it was to convince those in the bar as well. Simon was close enough that if the man did try anything he would likely be the closest target. Did Simon have anything to defend himself with? No. Had Simon killed men with his bare hands before? Yes, but it had been a long time, and he'd rather not pick up that particular sport again. Simon wasn't quite sure why he was defending the hunter. Killing him was technically the most straightforward way to ensure the bar and its patrons' identities were secure. On the other hand, hunters often worked in groups or at least kept in contact with other hunters. If this one went missing here, it was entirely possible that it would only bring more pressure. On the other hand, letting him leave alive would 100% bring pressure, so that wasn't really a valid reason. Simon had to be honest with himself; it was because he was Fae, and Fae are curious and arrogant. He could smell old Fae scents on the man, but judging by his speech and choice of target, plus the fact he evidently hadn't met many Fae since, he was likely a vampire hunter, not a fae one. How had this man - a hunter, known a Fae?</s> <\|message\|>~ Neirie (Neer-ee) Sothorett (Sothe-oh-Rhett) ~ Neirie ~ Although she had long ago forgotten what it felt like to breathe, she sucked in a sharp, right 'breath'. As the shocking feeling began to subside, she lingered her eyes over the young man and his lovely hulking 'friend'. As he faltered slightly and met her gaze she realized whatever kind of trap she had stumbled across was most likely of his creation. Thoughts flew around her mind as she wondered what in the world he could actually be, what the woman who guarded him so precariously was, whether them now knowing that she was an elder vampire was a terrible thing or not, and whether she should scatter like the young vampire girl in front of her was suggesting. All the while trying to keep the several other scents in the building that now assaulted her senses from overloading her brain. And then 'Josip' began to speak. Like the fingers of an ice elemental sliding down the marrow in one's bones, his words practically tore at her skin they were laced with such anger and disgust. Though he had no supernatural abilities so to speak, he appeared to have spent years honing his words and speech like a knife. Meant for those of her kind. If not for the cold set in her bones ages ago she may have actually shivered where she stood. Instead she held back a snarl by digging one fang into her bottom lip and without showing any outward movement, slid her batpack around to the front placing one hand on her bow handle. Her other hand, still out and in its sleeve, continued to feel the remnants of feeling like she had been practically electrocuted. She curled her finger open and closed, trying to shake away the feeling as nonchalant as possible. As Josip came towards the end of his judgement and accusations of the girl before them, it became more and more clear that he was in fact a man of the sort others called Hunters. Though he was getting towards the older side of age by humans standards, this man was far from weak, or naive. He had most likely been in this line of work for most of his life and likely had the scars to match the experiences. She wouldn't want to have him waiting for her in a dark alley somewhere unexpectedly... And She's an Elder Vampire. Not nearly as old or as powerful as those they call the First Bloods. Or even the few generations after known as the Ancients, or Ancient One's. Which she's always believed her master was fairly close to being. She would still feel uncomfortably meeting up with this human in any situation she want previously aware of. Her grip tightened around her bow as well as her other hand into a clenched fist. Though her attention, senses and guard were aimed towards Josip, her eyes stayed glued to the young man Neirie had heard his faithful bodyguard call "DarnDarn". Watching to see if her slightly sudden appearance, which had visually affected him, was an issue for him. She had come here on rumors of assistance. Talks of a Being that could make items to help her hunt down her Master. His true location. Not of that had practically gone stale. Someone who could provide aid or tools to help her against the monster. Could this boy truly be the one she'd traveled so far for? Though his scent was intense and intriguing, she could have sworn there was an ever so slight hint of human among it. Yet different. The fact that she couldn't pin point it was driving her almost mad. While also on her mind was that Josip had a fresh yet stale scent same as the elegant and vicious aroma coming from the 'Man' called Simon. She tilted her head ever so slightly as Simon began to seemingly defend Josip. Were they actually together? Was this fairly blatantly human man in cahoots with a supernatural? Is this how he was actually able to find the bar? How if he was actually a hunter could he let a supernatural live? And why on the earth would any supernatural willingly help him? Neirie actually blinked. This Josip had been fairly reserved when scaling the scene of the window break. Though he seemed to contemplate "DarnDarn" and his guardians visages, and seemed to be, if strangely, friendly with Simon. He didn't appear to become hostile until after noticing the young vampires sleeves and he became even more agitated once Neirie began defending her. As her glued eyes turned in almost slow motion to the man behind her, she peaked an ever so quick glimmer. He was a Vampire Hunter. And he most likely was there specifically for her. Perhaps not her alone. But any who might call her kind kin. Working with Simon or not, this man was dangerous and probably more than prepared for a fight. A fight meant to seriously injure or kill HER. Just as she was about to yank her bow into full size she felt that same electric feeling from before except it wasn't aimed towards herself, and it was a lot stronger. She snapped her eyes back to DarnDarn as he seemed to almost glow with a crackling green energy. As he began to speak Neirie could hear the power of several voices flow from his words. He senses were barraged once again with a multitude of his strange scent and she winced slightly at the mere force of it. Whether out of training or habit she instantly stepped in front of the girl with her feet spread apart and her bow drawn between her legs. She faced Josip and locked her full attention and guard on his scent and visage. If she didn't have to fight she wouldn't. But she was ready if need be and she at least knee better than to get close to that man.</s>	<\|message\|>Bonnie "Bo" Willard Bonnie couldn't take the silence and seriousness for too long. Watching everyone else react equally as seriously, the young vampire was bemused by the whole thing. She listened to the hunter's speech, her red eyes darting between the others who responded to it. That one dude seemed to start sparking, eyes turning green. The air just boiled with tension. A short pause ensued, the lack of noise was deafening and eerie. A confused expression on her face as the gothic woman stepped in front of her, Bo looked down at her sleeves again as the Hunter mentioned them with such vigor. What was his deal anyways? She had no idea, as far as she was aware he just had a bone to pick with everyone in the bar. She knew about Hunters, or at least heard about them in passing, but never encountered one herself. Bo had started to wonder if they were even a real thing. Luckily for her, she was just so oblivious to her past transgressions she had no clue how many times she narrowly missed getting herself killed. The girl was smart, for sure, but her carefree nature allowed for all sorts of shenanigans. Soon, a smile forms on her face. Bonnie bursts into a short fit of snorts and snickering, a sharp break to the silence. "Whatever, dude. You guys are like super fuckin' weird." She commented through her laughter, a hand raised up in correlation to her words while the other held her chest. Her beanie just barely peeking out from behind Neirie as she shoved her hands back in her pockets and started to walk towards the back door, the one she came out of. "I'm just gonna scram, bros. Too much fuckin' drama here, I swear." Bonnie commented. Clearly she had no recollection or understanding of how dangerous Vanja likely was. Though there were 3-4 other people around her who would likely step in if he tried anything, she didn't seem to care much for the theatrics. This would surely come to bite her in the ass later, unbeknownst to her.</s>
<\|description\|>ABIGAIL STENZ TWENTY-FIVE \| BASEBALL PLAYER \| TAURUS #e6ca30 // ASHLEY GREENE --- CHARACTERIZATION A native of Bainbridge Island, Abigail was born the daughter of a local banker and a real estate agent. As such, she was given a rather wealthy upbringing, with the Stenz family living in a gated waterfront community. Though Abigail didn't particularly care that her family was wealthy, preferring to hang out with practically anyone from school, there were rumors that she had asked her family to buy her a way into the male-dominated baseball teams, a sport she loved to play and watch, in their local district. In turn, her family became the subject of minor controversy in the local papers and around the diner table, but it wasn't long before the rumors were silenced. Leading her team to state as the team's star pitcher, Abigail personally proved her worth for everyone to see. Her performance had colleges across the country interested in acquiring her for their team, but Abigail chose to stay put in her hometown, instead making the decision to play for a local college and later the minor league "Bainbridge Saints". ---</s> <\|message\|>JACK ELLIOTT --- JACK ELLIOTT ROADSIDE BURGERS, BALTHAM LUNCH BREAK --- "Holy shit." "What?" Jake Elliott turned to his co-worker, Shaun Grant, with a curious look. Both of them were on their lunch break at the local fast-food restaurant. It was nearby the thrift store, and they were tired of being in there. Jake was eating his fries while trying to see what the hell Shaun was watching this time. Hopefully, it wasn't something stupid. He wasn't able to see much, but he did saw the part where the officer opened fire on the woman. In an instant, Jack turned away while Shaun shut off his phone and placed it down on the table. It was when he said "holy shit" again. "The fuck were you watching?!" Jake asked while throwing his fries away because he couldn't eat anymore after watching the video. "Well, my friends shared me this link about a nearby shooting. I just... didn't realize it was that bad." Shaun responded. Then, he went to cover his mouth. "I think I'm gonna throw up. Excuse me." Jake watched as his co-worker rushed towards the bathroom and then stared at the phone. His curiosity got the better of him when he took the phone and began to rewind the video. And once he got to a part that didn't look graphic, he resumed the video. Jake watched as the woman took a beating from a baton and then saw the officer reaching for his gun. That was when he paused the video and placed the phone back to its original spot. He didn't want to see someone getting shot again. But, that footage was bothering him a whole lot. Maybe it wasn't a big deal, he told himself. After a few minutes, Shaun came out of the bathroom refreshed as he went to grab his phone from the table. He looked at Jake and said, "It's time to go back. You ready?" "Yeah, let's go." Jake nodded and started making his way back to the thrift store. ---</s> <\|message\|>ABIGAIL STENZ A B I G A I L S T E N Z --- Location: Roadside Burgers, Baltham Date: August 14th, 2018 --- "Not sure how much more of this I can take." Abigail uttered out loud, sitting alone in her car outside Roadside Burgers; her only companion being the host on the radio. As much as she loved baseball, the last week had completely drained her energy and motivation. First, it was the rain delays over the weekend, forcing their scheduled match to be postponed to a later date. Then, it was the "potentially contagious illness" that spread like wildfire through her team, which promptly ended their season as the Saints were unfit to play. Everything seemed to be going to hell, and there was nothing she could do about it. Thankfully, at least for the time being, there was solace to be found in a good burger and fries. Her morning routine had caused her to work up an appetite, and it'd been some time since she had visited RB. The owners, who were practically honorary Saints for offerring free meals now and then to the team whenever they won a big match, had probably been wondering where she and the rest had been, anyway. Bzzt. Her phone buzzed as Abigail climbed out of her car and walked towards the burger joint. Pulling her phone from her pocket to read the notification, Abigail was quickly horrified as she read the words on the screen. OFFICER-INVOLVED SHOOTING IN RESIDENTIAL BALTHAM NEIGHBORHOOD Conner and Mia were... dead? The words were right in front of Abigail, and yet she struggled to process what she was reading. It couldn't have been real. She had heard of the bath salt epidemic that had gone around, but the dim-witted Conner and beauty queen Mia that Abigail went to high school with never were the type to do drugs. Well, okay, they might've smoked a little weed, but nearly every high schooler smoked weed, and as far as Abigail knew, it didn't cause you to go around eating people! "Yeah, let's go." A male voice spoke; one that Abigail would run into, distracted and distraught, sending her phone flying out of her hands and towards the ground.</s> <\|message\|>JACK ELLIOTT --- JACK ELLIOTT ROADSIDE BURGERS, BALTHAM LUNCH BREAK --- Oh great. Jake told himself after a woman crashed into him, nearly causing him to lose his balance. Unfortunately, her phone screen had a crack on it. Shaun immediately reached for it and nervously handed it back to the stranger. Jack rolled his eyes as his friend began to apologize for the accident. And then suddenly, a loud scream from the parking lot caught everyone's attention. It was a mother who was desperately trying to wake her child up. By the time Jake ran towards the scene, a crowd had formed to witness what was going on. Some of them were immediately calling for help, while others tried to assist in whatever way possible. Shane walked towards him and watched the scene unfold. "Should we help?" Jake thought about joining the crowd, but there were plenty of people on their phones. Plus, they had to get back to work pretty soon. So, he turned to his friend and responded, "I doubt we can't do anything that hasn't been done. Besides, I'm sure an ambulance is on its way." On their way, Jake walked passed the woman from earlier and glanced at her for a moment. He felt bad that her phone was damaged, but there wasn't anything he could do. And it wasn't his fault. Meanwhile, Shaun apologized once more before bidding farewell to the stranger. Both of them began making their way back to work when they noticed two police cars, with their sirens blaring, driving fast down the street. Jake felt that today was going to be a strange one. As they turned the corner of the street, the situation at the parking lot escalated. To the mother's relief, the child started breathing slowly. She resumed mouth-to-mouth while one of the owners of the restaurant returned with a first aid kit. Then, she let out a muffled scream as her child was biting his own mother. The crowd began to scream in horror while the owner and someone else tried to free her. It was strangely difficult, but she was eventually released. Her mouth was ruined entirely, leaving left her unable to do anything besides letting out muffled screams. Meanwhile, the child was being held down by two strangers as they were attempting to calm him down. Past that, no one really seemed to notice what was going on. The rest of the city continued with its bustling routine. ---</s>	<\|message\|>ABIGAIL STENZ A B I G A I L S T E N Z --- Location: Roadside Burgers, Baltham Date: August 14th, 2018 --- "Oh, no. Don't worry, it's... it's no big deal." Abigail replied, taking her now cracked phone back from the man. She knew that she couldn't hold his acquaintance at fault for her phone being damaged; it was her that walked into him, not the opposite way around. "I just have a lot going on, and I wasn't looking where I was going..." She trailed off, interrupted by a womanly scream that captured everyone's attention, hers included. Following the two men towards the crowd, Abigail was once again shocked by what she saw. Before it had been the death of old friends, and now, the life of a child was at risk. Was today but a nightmare? Abigail thought about calling 911, but one of the men had a point; surely help had to be on its way to the diner with everyone calling for medical assistance. It'd be redundant for her to call for an ambulance too, even if her phone could still dial numbers with the damage that had just been done to the screen. Still, Abigail felt that she couldn't walk away so easily like the two men were doing once the other apologized to her once again for the damage. There had to be something she could do, although Abigail hadn't expected that that something would be a nightmare in its own right. As the child's breathing returned, something awoke in the boy—a hunger for flesh, seemingly. His teeth latched on his mother's face, shocking everyone as they watched with horrified expression. The only one not frozen in shock was the veteran-turned-restaurant owner, Ray Williams, who quickly leapt into action, grabbing one of the woman's arms as he desperately tried to free her from the child's grasp to no avail. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Abigail cursed. Her instincts told her to flee; to run from the horrific scene she had been witnessing. But nonetheless, she knew that she couldn't be a coward; not while the boy continued to eat away at his mother's face. Rushing to the other side of the woman, she mustered what strength she had to help Ray, and pulled her free from the latch the child had on her face, while others began to snap back to their senses, trying to hold down the child in an attempt to calm him down. Although they had been successful in freeing the woman from the child, however, her face had been manged to the point that even the slightest glimpse made Abigail extremely queasy. "I-I think I'm going to be—" She spoke, holding a hand over her stomach and a fist before her mouth. There was no stopping this, Abigail knew, as she launched her appetite all over the pavement.</s>
<\|description\|>Ursa Cooper Age: 26 Picture: Race: Martian Homeworld: Mars Homegalaxy:Milky Way Skills: Ursa is smart, well read, inventive and street savvy. She isn't a strong talker, but when she works out a plan or strategy it usually is foolproof. Aside from her personal traits, she has incredibly proficient aim when it comes to shooting. Whether it be a bow and arrow or a gun, she is a great shot. She also is an impeccable pilot who is very familiar with hyperspace lanes, hidden spaceports, and mapping out deep space. Bio: Ursa was born on Mars in the small town of Clint under Maria and Edgar Cooper. Edgar was a Mecha-engineer for an intergalactic space agency called 'Brixton Weaponry.' Maria was a local nurse and med-tec. For a time they lived a usual life until Ursa turned seven and came home to find her parents gone, their clothes and close belongings missing as well. After a week of being alone, a neighbor came over and Ursa was put into the foster care system, moving to different planets until she was 14 where she ran away from her foster parents and snuck aboard a ship, hoping to get dropped off on a spaceport. She was caught though, by an old smuggler by the name of Jerry Wilkins. For the next couple years, she was taken on as a young apprentice/crewmate and learned how to smuggle, shoot and steal. Four years later Jerry gave one of his ships and a crew to Ursa and with that she took off becoming one of the largest smugglers in the underworld, smuggling millions of dollars, food, resources and people through the different planets all while escaping the authorities who have set a bounty for 10,000,000 kredits. Personality: Awkward. Ursa talks way too often, usually as a means to get herself out of a jam. Whilst on her ship you wouldn't peg her as the captain but rather a deck hand or crew mate because she usually has her head stuck in a book. Most people undermine or underestimate her due to her look and quirky personality but she understands people very well and has a habit of saying what is exactly on her mind whether it be rude or ignorant. She also has her own code for life. She doesn't like killing people or fighting, but she will if necessary, and she also doesn't see anything wrong with stealing. If you kill someone you are too stupid to think of another option and if you are going to steal, you have to be smart enough to get away with it. Weaponry: Ursa carries two beautiful Beretta's Specifically Beretta 92FS Inox "9mm Sword Cutlass". She mostly uses them for intimidation but if necessary she has introduced her girl's to a few unlucky people who dared to cross her or get in her way. Other: She has a few homes on various space outposts and her number one ship is the S.S. Ranger named after the ship of her favorite pirate. Charles Vane. Theme song: Theme Song</s> <\|message\|>Xael [Zay-Uhl] Niahm [Knee-Am] Phobos was extremely busy and crowded, due to the Convention of United Planets. Xael wandered about, looking at each of the stalls. She was looking for something very specific, though nothing had caught her eye quite yet. Each vendor would nod or wink at her, trying to arouse her interest in their wares. She simply shrugged them off when nothing caught her attention. She let out a gentle sigh, and carried on down the side walk, pushing passed and between people who payed little to no attention to her. As the time carried on, it began to rain, and Xael tugged her baggy sweater around her a little closer, but tilted her head up to the sky just slightly enough to let the rain land on her pale skin. She loved the freshness of it, and walked with her eyes closed until she came across a bar that she visited often. Not so much for the drink, but the atmosphere. It was mysterious and exciting, and she loved to watch the people. As she stepped into the bar, which was called Club Cyanide, she made her way to the very familiar corner booth. Smoke billowed out around Xael's ankles when she opened the door as if to welcome her home. It was strange that she liked this place, because to any other person, or creature or alien, she might seem too innocent for such a place. But she liked it none the less.</s> <\|message\|>Orion Steiner The crowd of overly aggressive marines looked out of place in the upscale lounge and Oriion felt he should have picked a private booth to meet instead of one with a view of the entrance but he knew he had to watch his back now on Phobos. "The Rulons sure as hell didnt expect the Timberwolf cresting the hill to interrupt their little chemical weapons deal" Orion thought, figuring for sure theyd be sending another hit squad or care package again. He began to think how he should return the favour when one of the unruly marines bumped into his shoulder knocking Orions Sazerrac to the floor. "Watch it you royal ass" said the marine in a drunken stupor as he laughed and pointed out what happened to his buddies. Hurriedly a young waitress rushed over to take care of the issue while Orion ignored the obvious 2 day leave given to this mouth breather who in his infinite wisdom decided to fill his few fleeting moments with alcohol. The waitress came over but unfortunately slipped on the wet floor in her hurry. The marines laughed even louder. Seeing the waitress in obvious pain and near tears Orion put down his now empty cocktail glass and reached down to assist her in getting up. "It's OK miss, we will just move to a private booth and you can serve us away from these cowboys. He whispered and calmy helped her up off the floor. If you could point me to the furthest one and come to us when youve had a moment of rest. I'm in no hurry.. She smiled acknowledging his kindness "Thank you and I'll get you another Sazerrac sir. as she rushed to the back to hide the tears and embarrasment. Orion began to turn around when he got caught by a sucker punch to the side of his jaw. The marine had decided to escalate the situation. Orion reeled almost losing his balance and staggered back. The Marine yelled "C'mon you blue blood, I'll wipe the floor with you.. Orion stood ready for his rush but told the marine You've got one chance to relax devil dog; go find another place to waste your leave.. This just infuriated the marine and his buddies who were now gathering behind him. As the marines faces all became flushed with anger Orion understanding the situation slid back his cloak and pressed a button on his lapel. A huge figure appeared from the shadow of the booth and pushed through the marines to grab the instigator by the shoulder. A.C.E (Automated Cybernetic Enhanced) was a 7 foot robot who looked as big as he was powerful with a large chest armoured in cobalt titanium giving off an almost blueish purple hue in the light. The marine swung his fist around to connect with the would be adversary and smashed it directly on ACE's chest. The sound of his knuckles smashing could be heard over the silence that had developed during the outbreak. The marine screamed out in agony and doubled over in pain as ACE squeezed his shoulder hard enough to bring the marine to his knees. The other marines stood in awe while the bouncers finally arrived to disperse the fight. Once everything had calmed down and the battered marine had finally relented; Orion said "That's enough ACE, Im sure his days of fingerbanging old sally rottencrotch are over. Release. No Factor stated ACE in a semi robotic tone as he released the marine. Once the commotion had died down and the drunkards dismissed from the lounge the waitress came over with the drink. "This is on the house tonight and thank you once again, Sir. Don't worry about it Orion said I just hope youre alright.. She stammered "Those were the 8th Fusiliers. They just got back from a huge invasion. Its all over the news if you havent seen. I was kinda worried you were going to get hurt but I see your buddy came in pretty handy tonight. Orion patted ACE, chuckled, and said Yeah he has his benefits except hes not the best with sparring. By the way here is something for your troubles.. Orion hands her a C-Note. Oh my god she says Thank you so much, if there is anything you need just tap the ruby button on the compad and I'll be here as fast as i can.. Orion stopped her just before leaving Before you go there is one thing you can do for me. I'm waiting for a some people that most definitely will stick out like a sore thumb. Can you make sure that they are shown their way here?. Absolutely she said. Oh and dear? Orion said. Yes? the waitress responded. Could you find it in your heart to possibly fit old ACE here in the back?</s>	<\|message\|>Ursa Cooper Club Cyanide was a small club in the downtown area of Phobos, it was a hub for some of the criminal elite in the area and a place the locals were kind enough to avoid most nights. This evening the area was only mildly crowded with a few lost tourists chatting here and there. The bar itself was dark with simple cocktail lamps and green velvet couches. Imported wood and black leather built most of the bar, giving it a warm pub feeling. Ursa was sat in the back, her Treo's Pizza hat turned backward to keep her hair out of her face. A half-drunk beer lay on the table whilst a cigarette and a book occupied her hands. She kept it just partly covering her face as she read over the newest book on Economic Physics in the Ragon Galaxy by Prof. Gix Moolson. She could have opened the book on her watch but, she didn't like virtual reading. Her preference for real paper over a hologram made a vintage book collectors dream. Most physical copies of books were expensive and the masses were extinct. Aside from the physical book though, Ursa looked like a scrub. Her hair was combed but hung loose around her shoulders, her jeans were dirty, her sneakers used to be white and her jacket was clearly old and worn. She had tattoos and light makeup that she put on in case any Draconians came by, but otherwise, she looked like a poor college kid. She flipped the page, as she waited for her friend to arrive. Much to Mac and Takashi's dismay, she had decided to remain at this spaceport for at least another night as they headed towards one of her security warehouses with their newly collected loot. She loved her ship and crew but at times she needed room to breathe, collect her thoughts, and try to enjoy the small victories. Plus with Celebrimbor phoning to get a drink, she couldn't exactly say no. The Yakuza were a deadly force and she had aided them on multiple occasions to smuggle bodies or drugs across the galaxy. She had also helped there enemies with the same aid, but she kept that to herself. She wasn't biased when it came to who she worked for it was all just business. That's probably why she got along with Celebrimbor, they both had their own code of ethics and respected it. She took a drag of her cigarette feeling a shift in the room. She peered over her book seeing a young woman enter the bar. Men seemed to turn to stare at the innocent-looking girl who moved almost like a dancer towards a corner booth. Ursa smirked giving the young woman koodo's for coming to this dump by herself. Brave woman. She tapped off her cigarette into an incinerator tray and returned to her book, sinking back into the darkness of her booth to remain as inconspicuous as she could. Suddenly her attention moved to a few drunken marines and a young man who she could only partially see through the crowd. She sighed her attention keeping to the book, not surprised that a rowdy crowd was present tonight. She took a swig of beer, trying to get comfy, as she waited for her friend, hoping that the chaos would be small tonight.</s>
<\|description\|>Ursa Cooper Age: 26 Picture: Race: Martian Homeworld: Mars Homegalaxy:Milky Way Skills: Ursa is smart, well read, inventive and street savvy. She isn't a strong talker, but when she works out a plan or strategy it usually is foolproof. Aside from her personal traits, she has incredibly proficient aim when it comes to shooting. Whether it be a bow and arrow or a gun, she is a great shot. She also is an impeccable pilot who is very familiar with hyperspace lanes, hidden spaceports, and mapping out deep space. Bio: Ursa was born on Mars in the small town of Clint under Maria and Edgar Cooper. Edgar was a Mecha-engineer for an intergalactic space agency called 'Brixton Weaponry.' Maria was a local nurse and med-tec. For a time they lived a usual life until Ursa turned seven and came home to find her parents gone, their clothes and close belongings missing as well. After a week of being alone, a neighbor came over and Ursa was put into the foster care system, moving to different planets until she was 14 where she ran away from her foster parents and snuck aboard a ship, hoping to get dropped off on a spaceport. She was caught though, by an old smuggler by the name of Jerry Wilkins. For the next couple years, she was taken on as a young apprentice/crewmate and learned how to smuggle, shoot and steal. Four years later Jerry gave one of his ships and a crew to Ursa and with that she took off becoming one of the largest smugglers in the underworld, smuggling millions of dollars, food, resources and people through the different planets all while escaping the authorities who have set a bounty for 10,000,000 kredits. Personality: Awkward. Ursa talks way too often, usually as a means to get herself out of a jam. Whilst on her ship you wouldn't peg her as the captain but rather a deck hand or crew mate because she usually has her head stuck in a book. Most people undermine or underestimate her due to her look and quirky personality but she understands people very well and has a habit of saying what is exactly on her mind whether it be rude or ignorant. She also has her own code for life. She doesn't like killing people or fighting, but she will if necessary, and she also doesn't see anything wrong with stealing. If you kill someone you are too stupid to think of another option and if you are going to steal, you have to be smart enough to get away with it. Weaponry: Ursa carries two beautiful Beretta's Specifically Beretta 92FS Inox "9mm Sword Cutlass". She mostly uses them for intimidation but if necessary she has introduced her girl's to a few unlucky people who dared to cross her or get in her way. Other: She has a few homes on various space outposts and her number one ship is the S.S. Ranger named after the ship of her favorite pirate. Charles Vane. Theme song: Theme Song</s> <\|message\|>Ursa Cooper Ursa followed along behind the group with a shrug as they chased after the new woman. She moved quickly past people and blasts that created an elevated amount of chaos around her, keeping behind Cel as she watched the other two intently. She looked up at the sky, wondering why anyone would want to take out Phobos? She slammed into a young woman falling to the ground in a painful tangle. After a few moments, she swore whilst the other young woman gave her a glare and ran off. Ursa rubbed at her bruised nose, placing the woman's vid com and virtual wallet in her pocket for later. As they reached the port, Ursa looked at the ship solemnly, but never one to be pessimistic she hoped on, giving Cel a look before she watched as the new man and his robot went to work. She heard him and immediately jumped in, moving to stand by the young woman "Oi Jackass! It moves, and she's kind enough to let us use her vehicle, the least you could do is give her a fucking thanks. ACTUALLY I COULD USE ONE TO FOR SAVING YOUR ASS SHITHEAD!" She shook her head, her opinion of this new man falling regardless of how attractive he was. She glared at him before she turned to the young woman with a smile, "I'm sorry about his manners. He is right though. We will have to switch vehicles if we want to survive the traffic and the blast strikes. I promise you will be compensated for any damage, generously. I'm good for it. You cool if I drive?" She didn't even really give her a chance to answer moving into the pilot's seat before she began to press some buttons and pull back some levers. The vessel hummed on, the jets getting ready to burn when she yelled at them, "Thanks. Seatbelts Kids!" She cracked her neck, her eyes narrowing as she grabbed the handles, getting a good grip before she pressed forward, the ship lifting off. A blast went off to the left of them and Ursa yanked hard to the left, avoiding it as best she could as she pressed forward, lifting up into the air, her eyes zoning in on the camera screen as she burst forward quickly but with not enough speed to blow the engine. She darted around vehicles in the setup air roads high above the city, as she yelled over her shoulder, "Yo Senator Mcfucknuts. You want to tell me where your ship is, or Cel do you have something closer?" She dipped, barely dodging a rogue ship that was hit by another blast on the way out, "Jesus! WHO THE FUCK WOULD GO AFTER PHOBOS!!"</s> <\|message\|>Celebrimbor Sasaki Celebrimbor watched as his surroundings melted in chaos. Everyone was running in all directions, meteors crashing into everything. One man pushed Cel out of his way as he ran into the crowd then almost instantly splattered all over the pavement from getting hit by one of the smaller rocks flying through the sky. This new girl that Cel had pushed out of the way earlier was leading the other two to her ship apparently so he decided to follow. Ursa had hit someone and fell down to the ground. Cel was going to help her up but, she had picked herself up before he was able to reach her. People were dropping like flies all around him. The screams filled the air. Cel tried to contact some of the Yakuza members but with no luck. After not being able to reach Garth, Cel sent out a mass message to all surviving members while he was running. "This is a message to all surviving members of the Strarvis family. If there's anyone left out there, vacate the planet immediately. If you are able to get off then meet at my ship the Star Platinum. I wish all of you luck and help anyone you can." There was more that he wanted to say but the adrenaline was pumping to fast. It wasn't long before the four of them reached the ship yard. A large ship with the name HMS Eternal on the side, rested on the runway. From the look of it the ship was impressive but, seeing as the world was ending, he also wanted to get his ship out of orbit. Once they all boarded the ship, Orion plugged his mech into the ships database. This didn't really intrest Cel right now and so he just ignored him until Orion started yelling about no Hyperdrive. This information did shock Cel a bit but, he figured that must have a been an error. It was almost impossible for there to not be one. The mech must have had a malfunction or something. The girls started to get angry at Orion at this point too. Celebrimbor didn't want to listen to the bickering so he started to look around until he found the washroom in the ship. He closed the door then looked in the mirror. His hair was all kinds of messed up now with kind of annoyed him. Though something did catch his eye while he was looking. A long black strand of hair ran down the front of his face. "Not now please. I still haven't mastered this power yet. Now would not be a good time to finish this transformation." He spoke to himself as if he was giving himself a pep talk. After a few seconds his hair went back to normal and Cel pulled out a brush from his jacket pocket and started to fix his hair. Once done, he walked back to find Ursa walking to the cockpit. He followed then sat in the copilot seat. "Hey if we get out of this alive I think we should threaten Orion for more money. This is bullshit and those meteors didn't seem normal. I think he knows more then he's letting on." He got up as the other girl walked in and gave her the seat. Before she sat down he grabbed her hand and bowed slightly. "I would like to formally apologize to you for throwing you out of my way. There's no excuse for doing that andI hope that you can forgive me." He stood up straight then saw the blood on her head. "I can fix that up for you if you would like. Make it just like new." He winked then started to walk off to find Orion. Before exiting the cockpit though, he turned around again to speak to Ursa. "Oh by the way, we need to stop by my ship. Some of the Yakuza might have made it there with some civilians and I want them to follow us in case of an attack. If Orion has an issue with it then he can find a new ride." He Looked at the new girl and nodded then left the room.</s> <\|message\|>Xael [Zay-Uhl] Niahm [Knee-Am] "Do you all actually think we have fucking time to stop by all of your ships!? The planet is fucking being destroyed you dickweeds!" Xael growled, the sound echoing through the cockpit as she sat down after Cel moved from the chair. She tried to ignore the other guy's comments. Obviously his little robot buddy didn't know shit because Xael's ship was one of the best live in ships from her planet. Sure, maybe it wasn't built for war, but that wasn't what she was about. Either way, it pissed her off, and her eyes flashed a bright blue before returning to the normal blue. "I can fix that up for you if you would like. Make it just like new." Cel said, offering to heal the wound at the back of her head. She would need to shower to get the blood out of her hair, and figured if he could fix the problem, she might as well let him, despite being annoyed. "Sure, I guess. In the meantime, you can explain to me about your mob boss conversation while we get to safety."</s> <\|message\|>Orion Steiner Orion brought up a picture of docking bay November. Well, what used to be it. The bay was completely obliterated and as to be expected, no interceptor. "Damn" cursed Orion slamming his fist on ACE. ACE jolted from the shock of his steel fist resetting to ensure his system would remain running without any bugs. The screen tripped and what must have been a firewall was bypassed on the ships screen. Nice trick. Wonder what else is hidden behind here. He thought better as the last thing he needed was to tell that girl what she didn't want to hear or see and I'm sure she wouldn't want him snooping so he pulled ACE out and directed him to find a place and to enter standby mode. "Relax blue eyes, it must have been this rust bucket over here, I'll get him to fix that up when he can" proclaimed Orion. "Anyways my ships toast so there's no need to be concerned however before we start making plans maybe we better figure out what the hell is going on out there cause I ain't got a clue."</s>	<\|message\|>Ursa Cooper Ursa turned to Cel after he came back from fixing his hair, her focus clearly on keeping the ship from getting blown to bits or hit. She listened to his thoughts and nodded, "Oh I don't doubt that. Someone wants him dead and on top of this evacuation, it all seems a bit coincidental." She geared right, the ship shaking slightly as she moved her focus from Cel to the sky 'road.' She heard Cel's request and turned around quickly, "Oh right away your majesty. You just sit there looking pretty." She smirked at the new girl's comment, pulling up as they narrowly missed a Raxer 900 superspeeder. She grumbled turning back to hit a few buttons, "Thankyou..Let's just see if we get out of here with this ship intact then we can see about getting your vessel. Okay?" She turned to Orion as he brought up an image of the newly destroyed bay. Ursa ignored Orion's rage at Ace her thoughts moving to the port beneath her. Beside the bay was an orphanage called Red Tides. She knew of it because the kids there she would use to help her catch intel for the Draconians. Phobos was a rough place to live, but the kids didn't know any better. And now they never will.. She let out a soft breath, narrowing her eyes as she looked at the sky, hearing Orion's wish to find out what's happening, "I think it's about time we find out. I'm done with this crowd." She hit the gas and shot up, breaking out of the traffic to sore through the skies up towards the airlock. Ahead of them large cruisers and smaller personal space yachts were scattered, heading for the airlock as they tried to dodge large blasts. Ursa stayed calm, rolling back and forth as she twisted through spaces just big enough for her vehicle, to push through. Suddenly a blast came to the upper pocket and she was pushed to the left slamming into a deep grey spacecraft. It flew back hitting two more vehicles as they fell back to the blackened Phobos. Ursa pulled back grunting as she tried to regain control. She went against the current, barely hitting another speeder before pulling back. Moving again through the cracks before finally, she could see the entryway. She plowed through her eyes narrowing as she swore, "The blasts are aimed. They aren't random...They are trying to shoot civilians?!" She looked around at the cruisers that seemed big enough to take enough damage. She rolled past a Draconian styled yacht, and shot up towards the other side of a cruiser, leaving a very narrow space of escape. It would allow them to clear the air-lock and keep them out of range of the blasts, but it would be close. She knew that if they missed they would be dead, either crushed by the cruiser or smashed into the edge or another spacecraft. She smirked, letting anyone see the intention on her face. One of both wild abandon and delusion, before she sang out quickly an old earth song by Kansas, "CARRY ON MY WAYWARD SON, THERE WILL BE PEACE WHEN YOU ARE DONE! LAY YOUR WEARY HEAD TO REST!!! DON'T YOU CRY NO MORE!! HOLD ON!" She floored it, a cry of fearless abandon escaping her, as she lost herself in her own personal melody. She kicked the ship into high gear as the air in the craft pulled whatever wasn't nailed down across the room. She clenched the controls hard, her hat flying off of her head as she wrenched the craft a hard left as it rolled around facing Phobos. Moving backward, she swung it up into a vertical angle, her hair flying downwards as they slid just narrowly past the cruiser, and the airlock. She hit the controls to prep the vehicle for space travel and set her right side up, moving up the edge of the cruiser before she slowed, hoping to stay behind it as they came to see what was shooting them. Ursa let out a breath and turned to look at her companions, whom to her seemed a bit disheveled with the ships drastic twists, "Made it." She smiled wide as if she didn't just almost kill them before she turned back to the screen, pressing a button so that the windows were open to open space just as they began to slowly see what was shooting Phobos. Her eyes grew wide as she tried to understand what she was seeing, "What type of ship is that???"</s>
<\|description\|>Celebrimbor Sasaki Age: Appears 28 Race: Chatilian Home Planet: Strarvis DUV, Galaxy Sagitta Aegimius Skills: To be roleplayed Hobbies: Enjoys reading, Blacksmithing, Going out to bars Job: Strarvis Yakuza Rank: Lieutenant of the Strokath Family Likes: A good drink, working with fire, keeping fashionable Dislikes: Tbr Appearance:</s> <\|message\|>Celebrimbor Sasaki Cel winked at the girl before leaving to find a seat. "Once we're out of this mess I'll clean you up and make that better. I'll do my best to explain any questions you may have for me." He smiled at her then left. In the next room he found a spot to sit and buckle up. Knowing Ursa, she was going to fly like crazy. He held on tight as She flew them out of Phobos and into the atmosphere. Hell still raining down On the ground below. Cel has been in some shit before but nothing like this. Who would go this far to find one person? Right now that didn't matter. All he could think about was if anyone was going to make it and how he was going to threaten Orion. That man knew something and Celebrimbor knew that he did, otherwise there wouldn't have been a bullet shot at him. The craft tossed around as Ursa was dodging out of the way and with this, Cel's hair got all messed up again. "Why do I even try?" He groaned to himself as his hair waved around like crazy. "Maybe I'll just chop it all off." He thought to himself then instantly laughed "Yeah fuck that." He laughed some more as the ship started to slow down as it reached space. Cel could hear Ursa's what was that and came running. He didn't even have to ask when he saw the massive ship raining hell on the planet. This was it, he had to have answers and now. Cel Spun around to find Orion and drag him to the cockpit. It didn't take long for Cel long to find him, for he was basically where he was before. "You. Come with me now. He spoke deeply, sounding very irritated and pissed. He lead Orion to where Ursa was. "If you want to go any farther, you will explain to me what that is and why the hell it is after you.</s> <\|message\|>Orion Steiner Dragged up to the cockpit Orion looked up through the perspex glass in astonishment. "It can't be, that's impossible!" Eclipsed by Saturn and looming ominous like a demon backlit by flames was a space fortress of monstrous proportions. Gothic in architecture the fortress' midsection was slowly rotating clockwise while the upper and lower sections were rotating in the opposite direction to compensate for the loss of gravity in space. A ship of that size simply could not have enough gravimetric pods to safely create artificial gravity like capital ships could. Large bursts of flame erupted from 4 long apertures in the midsection which rained down upon the moon of Phobos' primary Colony station. Other bright flashes of light erupted as capital guns fired in addition with an engaged Phobos Fleet. Popping on the fortress' surface on what looked like a rippling bubble was the return fire from the fleet. Splashes of purple and green in what seemed an attack of such insignificance. "I will crush you as if you were but an ant under my thumb" thought Orion. ACE cut through the silence in response to Celebrimbors accusatory remarks with a cold explanation. "A planetary station originally designed for protection and interstellar trade, Nimbus Point One or NP1 was once an experimental hub designed for the Valorians stationed off the Gates of Auriga. An attack by Rulons with the intent as a first and last strike measure decimated a large portion of the Valorian fleet who were charged with protecting the station. Caught off guard and outgunned the Valorians fought a defensive battle but attrition took its toll. Time was desperately needed to stave off combined attacks on the station. Unknown to most people the station had many experimental weapons and even were testing Dark Void technology." Orion interrupted visibly shaken "In an effort to try to salvage lives and technology the Admiral of the station shifted orbit to shield what little was left of the fleet. Several of the larger ships who were transporting civilians used the stations experimental Dark Void and disappeared. I had a hand in designing some of the weapons and even drew up a rough sketch of a rotating payload delivery system to get dropships on planet surfaces faster and safer." He paused and whispered "Is evil something you are? or something you do?". Raising his voice "It cant be though. Those initial drawings were on the Sagittarius and that ship disappeared into the void and that station was destroyed!" Slamming his fist on the control panel, sadness giving rise to anger "and my sister gave her life to make sure of that!" Eyes watering from a flashback of his sisters mayday message hanging in his head Orion looked away from the party and out onto the maelstrom in front of him. "I don't know what else to say." Composed he looked back towards Celebrimbor intently. "I don't believe it would be after me? It makes no sense. Nothing does. Did you see the round that sniper used? A flechette round. Whoever wanted me dead also wanted my body found and wanted me to be recognized, publicly displayed but perhaps by someone with motive not to show me disfigured. Not a simple blow the back of my head off dirty kill. This was meticulous and this was calculated. It just doesn't make sense someone would go to the trouble and then order an orbital bombardment. No, this must be something else. That ship shouldn't even exist. Those weapons seem designed for an assault on the colony station itself." He paused hoping Cel would let his statement sink in before reacting he mentioned to ACE "Can you identify the ships name or callsign?" Orion stabilized himself as Ursa rocked the ship back towards Phobos in an effort to dodge a civilian Caravelle, its cockpit shattered and bodies floating into space; the moon appeared to be cracking from the continuous concussive force from the fortresses main guns. The colony station was in flames and few ships were coming out of the makeshift atmosphere anymore. In space, the ship was avoiding debris from all manner of destroyed imperial and private ships alike. Swarms of coordinated strikes seemed to be occurring on larger vessels, even ones that obviously had no defensive weapons and were purely civilian. The military channels were a cacophony of chatter, screams and calls for help went unanswered. Phobos was no more. The moon seemed to shudder before seemingly expunging a 1/3 of it's surface in opposite directions with light appearing from Saturn through the moons broken core. In the quiet moments that followed while the members looked out in awe at such a destructive force , blue light rippled from the massive station outwards. It flowed like a phosphorescent wake creating darkness where once there was light. Ships in the distance their drives burning bright turned to black and appeared to lose control. Using the shipboard computers ACE quickly scanned the behemoth "Class unidentified...technology unidentified...weapons unidentified...name identified...origin identified...previous location unidentified...presence of a gravimetric well increasing...". The wave got closer as some ships initiated their hyperdrives and escaped to long distant places. Orion cut ACE off before he could finish "Shut it down! Shut it all down now or were all dead!" Schematic</s> <\|message\|>Xael [Zay-Uhl] Niahm [Knee-Am] Xael glanced at Ursa, who was expertly controlling her vessel. She was weaving in and out of spaces between other ships, rubble and people. She felt safe and despite not knowing this person from any universe, she was going to put her trust in her. They needed to get into hyperdrive as quickly as possible, but unfortunately that came with risks since there were new people around. Usually Xael never flew with others so it never mattered until this moment. But, it was her identity or their lives. She furrowed her brow slightly and moved to stand in front of Ursa. Xael was short enough that if she bent her knees, Ursa would be able to see over her. Xael breathed in deeply and stared at the dashboard. She reached out, pressing some tiny buttons that were almost invisible to anyone else. After inputting the sequence, a little thin piece of metal popped up from a hidden compartment. It was in the shape of a T and along the top held two small black holes. It held two tiny eye scanners. Xaels appearance shifted then. But if you blinked you wouldn't have noticed. The mechanism scanned her eyes and retreated back to it hiding place. Within a few seconds the hyperdrive was activated, and Xael shifted out of the way again, watching Cel drag Orion toward the cockpit, asking him to explain. While Xael was listening, her mouth dropped open slightly in shock and she for a moment couldn't believe what type of people she had gotten herself involved in. Shaking her head, she turned to Orion. "Well, if you created the blueprint for this ship, you must know it's weak spots? What can we do besides escape? Is there anything we can do? We have to do something!"</s> <\|message\|>Ursa Cooper The ship in front of them was something she had never witnessed before. It was a beast, with a functionality that both entranced and disturbed her. She jumped slightly, creating some space when Xael came to stand in front of her, touching the dash to bring out a hidden compartment that she assumed was part of the security feature. She watched the girl quietly, her eyebrows raising in question. She opened her mouth, about to ask the girl what she just saw when she noted the Hyperdrive was loaded and ready to go. She dodged a large piece of a broken cruiser, when her thoughts were interrupted by Cel and Orion's discussion. She eyed Xael giving her a, "I saw that…" look before she returned back to the massive ship in front of her, wondering who would design this terror. Her answer came from Orion and she turned to look up at him, only briefly before she eyed the small futile battle in front of her. ACE explained further about the station, and her eyes widened. Valorians, Dark Void technology! Who the hell was this guy?? She turned back to her job, the ship veering to the right, as she tried to focus on what Orion was saying. Despite the way she treated him early, she could tell his memories were painful, and his sadness touched her. She looked up at him quietly as he gazed at the maelstrom, not knowing what to say to comfort him. She pondered as to why she would want to when he explained that the man sent to kill him probably wasn't in coalition with this behemoth. She was about to comment on all this information when suddenly another ship swung towards them, She narrowly swung out of the way, gripping the handles tightly as she headed back towards Phobos. She charged through the carnage of space, expertly dodging heavy debris and strike shots. She could hear the harrowing calls for help and the screams of innocent civilians who just hours before were just laughing in the market place. A ship to the left of them blew up, bodies floating into space, those that weren't killed by the blast gasped for oxygen that they could not find. Ursa reared to the right, not willing to let herself be overcome by the carnage, as she had passengers with her. She was waiting for just the right moment to use the hyperdrive when suddenly a loud eruption exploded beneath her and the ship swung out. She grit her teeth, digging in her feet as she tried to retain control, "COME ON!!" She gained some leverage and swung back, noting something was wrong. It took her a minute to realize what it was. It was the silence. No more calls for help or orders to the fleet, because Phobos was gone. She stared forward, their ship surrounded by the remains of destroyed ships. She looked at it all with a torn expression not even realizing a tear had fallen down her cheek, as the chaos erupted around her. Suddenly a deep blue light erupted from the behemoth, and Ursa watched in horror as this wave hit many of the remaining ship's Drives cutting them off before her. This wasn't an act of war. This was a complete genocide. Annihilation to completion. Innocents destroyed so quickly and efficiently. She stared at the behemoth as if it had a new face. One showing an evil that she had never seen firsthand, and she had seen some dark hells in her own past. Her shock was broken by ACE in the background when suddenly Orion's voice hit her like a hammer. She followed his command, reacting quickly as she slammed back the control lever powering off the vessel instantly as all the lights and energy in the ship turned off. The wave only feet from the ship now. They were far enough from Phobos' atmosphere that they wouldn't fall but the gravity in the room was also canceled. Ursa rose slightly off her seat but was held down by her seatbelts. She glared at the ship in front of her, as she responded to Xael, "We can't do anything to it in this, and I don't think we have much time, before they realize that we are still alive. They clearly don't want any survivors and I don't plan on dying today. So.. Handso..I mean Orion, tell me when I can hyperdrive out of here..." She wiped her cheek, her emotions locked down as she turned down the ship's thermostat the air inside the ship turning colder by the minute. Just in case they were scanning for bodies, the cold would help to block their heat signatures. It wasn't a fast method but with that machine as big as it was, she figured its range was split into different quadrants which would make readings a smaller percentage, "That might help if they are tracking for life forms. Try to keep your breaths short and soft."</s>	<\|message\|>Celebrimbor Sasaki As much as Cel knew the kind of pain Orion was feeling, he had a bit of a hard time feeling bad for him in this moment. The Behemoth in front of them was destroying everything in its path. It still shocked him that anyone could build something like this and he had seen some pretty scary shit in the past. In that moment though, Cel felt a cool brush of air behind him. He spun around to see if someone else was on the ship with them but nothing was there. He then felt pressure on his right arm but, same as before, no one was touching him. Cel shook his head. "Get a grip Cel. You've seen death before." He thought to himself thinking it was just nerves, but the feeling of someone being around him wouldn't go away. As he turned around to look back at the death machine, Phobos exploded into nothing. Ships where blowing up from the force and rubble of the now destroyed moon. Everything he had known and loved was gone. Ursa had shut down the ship as Orion yelled. They were suspended in space, watching the carnage unfold around them. Cel had to look away. There was no hope for anyone else out there unless they got lucky like the four of them did. "Seeing as we're going to be stuck here for a while, we might as well get better acquainted." He mostly said that to get everyone's attention away from the horror outside. He looked at the new girl and shook her hand properly. "I'm Celebrimbor, but you can cal me Cel for short. Makes it easier." He smiled then kissed her hand. He already knew who Ursa was, given probably not aswell as he'd liked. She worked for him before and had a relatively good relationship with her, but there was probably a lot that he didn't know about her. As for Orion.... He didn't want to know him.</s>
<\|description\|>Celebrimbor Sasaki Age: Appears 28 Race: Chatilian Home Planet: Strarvis DUV, Galaxy Sagitta Aegimius Skills: To be roleplayed Hobbies: Enjoys reading, Blacksmithing, Going out to bars Job: Strarvis Yakuza Rank: Lieutenant of the Strokath Family Likes: A good drink, working with fire, keeping fashionable Dislikes: Tbr Appearance:</s> <\|message\|>Celebrimbor Sasaki As much as Cel knew the kind of pain Orion was feeling, he had a bit of a hard time feeling bad for him in this moment. The Behemoth in front of them was destroying everything in its path. It still shocked him that anyone could build something like this and he had seen some pretty scary shit in the past. In that moment though, Cel felt a cool brush of air behind him. He spun around to see if someone else was on the ship with them but nothing was there. He then felt pressure on his right arm but, same as before, no one was touching him. Cel shook his head. "Get a grip Cel. You've seen death before." He thought to himself thinking it was just nerves, but the feeling of someone being around him wouldn't go away. As he turned around to look back at the death machine, Phobos exploded into nothing. Ships where blowing up from the force and rubble of the now destroyed moon. Everything he had known and loved was gone. Ursa had shut down the ship as Orion yelled. They were suspended in space, watching the carnage unfold around them. Cel had to look away. There was no hope for anyone else out there unless they got lucky like the four of them did. "Seeing as we're going to be stuck here for a while, we might as well get better acquainted." He mostly said that to get everyone's attention away from the horror outside. He looked at the new girl and shook her hand properly. "I'm Celebrimbor, but you can cal me Cel for short. Makes it easier." He smiled then kissed her hand. He already knew who Ursa was, given probably not aswell as he'd liked. She worked for him before and had a relatively good relationship with her, but there was probably a lot that he didn't know about her. As for Orion.... He didn't want to know him.</s> <\|message\|>Orion Steiner "That's a good question" stated Orion "Ursa, is it?". Ursa nodded an affirmative while maintaining her facial expression. Orion could see the breath begin to form from the loss in temperature and as a kind gesture offered his coat to Ursa. "It's going to get colder and you might want this For the time being.". He paused "Now we would have to ask the missus over here about the hyperdrive." Orion turned towards Xael. "Forgive my intrusions but I am most appreciative of you risking to travel with us particularly without knowing who or what we were. Formal introductions would be prudent concerning the state we are in." Orion thought for a moment and looked back towards Ursa who had that old familiar look and Drifted his gaze to the black monstrosity outside the cockpit. "Officially I am Star Colonel Orion Cassius Steiner of the 21st Centauri Lancers. Prince to the Valorian Hedgemony. I was a student under Anastasius Focht of the Maskirovka before our world Valera erupted into full scale war with the Rulons again. I feel compelled to be honest with you all. I have been trying to secure the funds and back channel support for Valora. We are at a stalemate and have been fighting a losing war. I sequestered Celebrimbors services for transport to my dropship. We all seem to have come together by pure coincidence. Gladly I thank you all for putting any differences aside to emerge from this horror unscathed." He extended the olive branch "This is your ship. I am at your mercy. I would prefer and I would pay you in kind if you would take me to my dropship, however if you want to go to another system, I can find an alternate way to get back". Celebrimbor Looked up in dismay most likely perturbed by Orion's choice to offer an alternative that did not coincide with him getting his deal so Orion mentioned "Don't worry Cel, our deal still stands and in light of the circumstances I'm sure we can come to another arrangement that works for both of us." Orion turned back to the control panel pushing himself off of a stagnate ACE, his magnetics keeping him attached to the deck in near zero g. "Just curious". He motioned to Xael "How long would it take for your systemS to be back. Without a doubt whomever they are will be sending out scout fighters to finish the job". He turned back to Ursa draping his jacket over her and the chair. "That was some nifty flying, you didn't learn that all from simple shoot an scoots. You've been places and by the look on your face Wherever it was left a scar. The eyes don't lie." He stared at her for a moment looking past the emotional barricade she was putting up. He'd seen that look every time he looked in a mirror. "Now once we get this up and running is there anything I can do to assist?" ............autonomous computerized entity boot sequence initiated. ............Diagnostic recovery in progress. ............Sensors Initiating. ............................... ............uplink to Master override complete. ............Fission startup initiated. ........................3...2...1. Autonomous systems activated. Weapon Systems Nominal. Life Support Systems Nominal. All Systems Nominal. Searching.................... Status Operation Nova Redoubt .... pending Status Operation Vigilance ... pending Status Operation Nimbus Point 1 ... Complete. Files Secured. Status Sagittarius ... unknown Status Valora ... unknown ...unable to update Unable to locate Signal 224. Unable to locate Signal 418. Commencing secondary startup and tertiary systems. Memory purge, systems incomplete. Beginning tertiary diagnostics and memory defrag...</s> <\|message\|>Ursa Cooper As the temperature dropped, Ursa brought her hands up to her mouth, trying to warm them slightly as she shivered. Orion walked over and she turned to look at him, giving him a nod when he mentioned her name. She was about to reject the offer of his coat in protest of her pride when he paused turning to Xael. Ursa listened in to Orion's introduction, taking in the information with a newfound interest. She knew about the war on Valera through her boss Jerry. That sector was run by Yuri's crew, and he was probably providing the Rulon's with ex-grade munitions to fight the Valorian's, or aiding the Valorians in the same manner. Hell, the bastard was probably doing runs for both. She didn't know and she was glad that she could honestly say she knew nothing about it. Would be messy if Orion found out her compatriot was batting for the other team. She turned away looking out at the carnage before her as she tried to deduce a pathway out of here. The loss of both Phobos and the innocent lives that settled there would haunt her. She was lucky to be alive. They all were. She turned to look at Xael with a tough reassuring smile, "Don't worry about the fighters, Dollface. I've never lost a client or a vessel in my entire career and I don't intend to anytime soon. Just in case we die though, I also want to thank you for letting us use your vessel. I'm Ursa Cooper by the way!" She shivered again her hands shaking slightly on the handles when a jacket was draped over her and the chair. She looked up at Orion, wishing her hat didn't fly off earlier as she felt slightly exposed. She gave him a cool look, one she used to keep most men at arms length when he spoke. She felt the urge to look away, not liking that he seemed to be able to look right through her. Her yellow eyes didn't waver though, and even though she seemed to keep her control, she was slightly rattled. She felt the sudden urge to be honest, and to let him see the pain she carried. Perhaps it was because she could see he had it to as he said visible in his own eyes. She didn't trust him though, she could already tell by her attitude with him that she was playing with fire. Secrets were her livelihood and the less anyone knew about her the better. So she closed up and the brief moment of truth was replaced with a mischievous smirk, her thick titanium walls closing to him as she responded lightly in a teasing drawl, "Thanks, cowboy. I bet you say that to all the pretty girls. And uh..thanks for the coat." She gave him a too-wide smile as she put it on the right way, her hands shaky as she pulled it tight around her. Humor was a defense mechanism she used often, and even with the sadness just below the surface, she felt it necessary to use it now. She was already feeling warmer as she turned to watch the big behemoth, move slowly away from the destroyed remains of Phobos. She could see from a distance the release of scouting ships, with four to five heading in their direction. She swore, "Shit..." She then looked up at Orion at his request to help and turned to Xael, "That depends on the weapon system this ship is equipped with. Dollface, we have got five bogies coming this way, and the temperature drop will only hide us for so long. I'm assuming the big boy needs time to recharge that wave before it hits again so if we want to hyperdrive we need to do it soon. It will take too long to give me full access so you will have to man the drive." She turned to Ace who seemed to be spewing out commands/system checks too fast for her to comprehend, "Is uh..he okay? Seems like he has a few wires loose?"</s> <\|message\|>Xael [Zay-Uhl] Niahm [Knee-Am] Xael didn't seem to be bothered by the drop in temperature and simply watched Ursa's face as she navigated the ship. It would probably take 3-7 minutes to reboot the ship depending, though most times it never got to the 7 minute mark. "I'm Xael. It's too bad this circumstance was how we'd meet. And it should take under 7 minutes to reboot. My ship is equipped with shield barricades and a small laser, which is mostly used for getting rid of small space rocks in my way. I've never had to use it for battle before. I will say though, I'm not the fighting type. So if escaping is the best option, I vote for that. I can control the drive if that's what's needed." Xael looked at the spot on her hand in which Cel had kissed and a soft, pinkish hue shifted across her cheeks momentarily. She tried to ignore the look Ursa gave her though. "We can go any place you all want or need to. I don't have anywhere to be."</s>	<\|message\|>Celebrimbor Sasaki Cel watched out the window as the scouting ships left the behemoth. If they found them, there would be some trouble seeing as the ship didn't have any defenses. "Whatever we do we need to figure it out quick. Those ships aren't going to just sit there and wait for us to make up our minds. As soon as possible we need to get those shields up for protection while we wait for the rest of the ship to boot up. Once we are capable of it too we need to get someone on the laser. It won't do anything to those ships, but it will scare them a bit to give us more time. Right now we have the element of surprise on our side. I know we're all a little shaken up from what we just saw, but we need to get our asses out of here. Orion, I need to you tell me everything you can about that monster out there..." Right as Cel was about to say more, he started to feel an excruciating pain stab his head. The cold grip on his arm started to flow throughout his body which caused him to start shaking violently. The ship was already cold from the shut down, but this was like something he had never felt before. He could see the others looking at him in a concerned way. There was already to much going on for him to be getting sick now. Before any of them could say anything he turned around and left for the bathroom again. "If you'll excuse me. I need to deal with something." He said as he quickly fled the cockpit. The chill in his body got worse as Cel was making his way to the bathroom. It was almost as if he was incased in ice then shoved into the depths of space. Once in the bathroom, Cel leaned over the toilet and vometed everywhere. This occurred three more times before he felt fine enough to stand up and clen himself off. He looked in the mirror and laughed a bit. "At least it didn't get in my hair." He ran his hands through the blond locks and noticed there were more black strands popping up. As he looked through more of his hair, he could see some of it change color. "What the fuck is going on with you?" He spoke quietly to himself. This was strange since this only ever happened when he felt stressed and even then it wasn't to this extent. As he looked closer, Cel could see a slight shimmer behind him in the mirror as if some one was using an invisibility mod. Cel spun around quickly and punched where the shimmer appeared, but nothing was there. Just air. He then turned back around to look in the mirror and the shimmer was still there. Something slowly started to materialize into a gold like color behind him. It almost looked humanoid. This freaked out Cel and he quickly splashed hot water on his face. Instantly the freezing feeling stopped and the shimmer was gone. "Stupid nerves. Pull yourself together Cel." He slapped himself, flushed the toilet, then walked back to the cockpit. His hair still slowly turning black, but this was the least of his worries. If he was seeing things then there could be something major wrong with him. Either that or he was overly scared, which would just piss him off. As Cel walked back into the cockpit, the others looked at him again. Ignoring their stares, Cel looked back outside to see what was happening. "So what's the plan then? Are we going to do what I said or do we have a better plan?"</s>
<\|description\|>Celebrimbor Sasaki Age: Appears 28 Race: Chatilian Home Planet: Strarvis DUV, Galaxy Sagitta Aegimius Skills: To be roleplayed Hobbies: Enjoys reading, Blacksmithing, Going out to bars Job: Strarvis Yakuza Rank: Lieutenant of the Strokath Family Likes: A good drink, working with fire, keeping fashionable Dislikes: Tbr Appearance:</s> <\|message\|>Celebrimbor Sasaki Cel sat down behind Xael and ran his hand through his hair. It seemed like it was still turning black. He sighed then buckled in. "Don't worry about it. When I find out what's going on you'll be the first to know." He winked at her then tightened the belt, knowing how crazy Ursa would be driving. The cold embraced his arm again, slowly moving up his arm again, but stopping at his shoulder. "Just fuck off." He muttered to himself. Ursa started up the ship and started playing her music as they flew through the void, dodging everything that came at them. Seeing what Orion and Xael where doing, Cel got up when he had a moment to breath and took off for the lasers and shield. He heard Ursa call for him and Orion to hop on the laser. "I'm way ahead of you!" He hollered back. Once he found the controls, Cel felt more comfortable. "Now this is what I like!" He pulled up the focus and started to aim. Blasting everything that came their way. One after another, ship by ship, he was hitting. The laser wasn't strong enough to destroy any of the ships, but it was enough to disable. Normally at this speed he would miss a few times, but each shot was hitting its mark. Almost as if something was guiding his hand. The cold creeped up his other arm again stopping at his shoulders. Out of nowhere though, the stars started to shoot buy faster and faster. "They must have gotten the hyperdrive going. I should go check on the others again and make sure everyone's okay." Cel stood up and started to make his way back to the cockpit, but his legs started to give out on him. The shiver returned and the cold started to engulf his whole body again. "What.... is happening to me." he studdered then fell to his knees. He looked at his hands then at the glass in front of him. Though it wasn't much, he could see the reflection of himself and the gold figure behind him. It was taking more of a form. It looked humanoid but also Alien. Cel only caught a glimpse of the figure before the rest of his body gave out and fell to the floor. His vision blurred but before he passed out, he could see the faint figure of someone. Maybe someone real. "Damn it." Cel grunted before passing out.</s> <\|message\|>Ursa Cooper The large plasma cloud that Orion pointed to made Ursa squirm, her voice slightly scratchy, "Probably could get through it, but the ship doesn't need the extra damage." With Orion putting in some coordinates and setting the ship to autopilot Ursa changed the temperature back to normal before she stood up, stretching slightly. She rubbed her neck, "I suppose I can take first watch..I am still burning off some energy from the chase." She watched as Orion took off with Ace and walked over to her hat turning it around so that she could push her bangs out of her face before she looked over at Xael, "Thanks for the directions, and the ship. I know having us bums join you probably wasn't what you were planning today." She gave the girl a once over, wanting to mention what happened earlier with her eyes when she figured she should go check on Cel. He was her friend after all and he seemed to be struggling with something physically. She pointed to the door, "I'm just gonna go check on long locks. Want to keep an eye out for a few minutes." At Xael's response she smiled walking towards the hallway connecting the cockpit to the weapons station, "Cel? You all..CEL?" She looked over to see Cel with thick black hair and a gold alien-like shimmering just near him. She pulled out one of her guns and narrowed her eyes, "GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HIM JACKASS! You don't know me but I can promise you I am one hell of a good shot. So unless you want one between the eyes. I suggest to you. STEP. BACK." She was deadly serious, and the creature seemed to take her warning honestly before it leaned down slowly towards Cel. She prepared to shoot it as it prepared to strike her but instead it began to fuse into Cels form. She watched in silence before it disappeared inside her friend, "What the f.." As soon as it was gone she re-sheathed her weapon and ran to Cel falling to her knees as she rolled him onto his back pushing his hair out of his face, and leaning his head back so she could feel for a breath, "You better not be dead...you little. Oh, thank Cthulu." She put her ear to his chest, sighing when she heard a heartbeat. She sat up resting a hand on her knee as she looked over him, leaning down to tap his cheek, "Cel?? Handsome?? If you wake up now I'll show ya my jugs??" Cel would probably be over the moon for that or at least disturbed by her use of the word jugs, but he didn't seem to hear her, meaning he was completely out of it. She pulled off Orion's jacket and placed it under his head as she stood up moving back towards the cockpit. She called out to Xael, "Hey Xael? Uh.. Cel is passed out in the hallway, and I think, mind you not being dead sober, that a gold alien being just was vacuumed into his body. Do you have a med bay or can you help him? I'm worried.." She motioned the girl over, looking down at Cel as she placed her head on his forehead to feel his temperature, "He feels cold, but that may be because of the temperature." She didn't lie to Xael she was worried. She didn't love Cel like a brother, but as criminal relationships go, they had a solid one. She didn't want to see him hurt. She looked over at Xael, "I'm gonna go let Orion know what's happened. Just in case we have another stowaway hiding on here. Can you stay with him? Okay..I'll be right back." She headed down the hallway, unsure where to go when she heard some music. She followed it, pausing as the voice of a woman could be heard inside. She was about to interrupt when she realized it was a recording. She waited until the second song played before she came in, walking over to find Orion about to fall asleep, "Yo...Sexy pants. Sorry to ruin your sleep but Cel just fell unconscious and an alien-looking motherfucker just leeched into him. I don't know if there are more of them on this ship, but I figured I should tell you. Xael's with him now but I don't know if she has any med skills?"</s> <\|message\|>Xael [Zay-Uhl] Niahm [Knee-Am] "Sure I'll keep an eye. He's probably just being dramatic about that his hair is turning black or something..." Xael smiled to herself slightly, relaxing once the ship seemed to shift to autopilot and also began to warm up. The warmth was comforting despite she didn't really need it for survival. She reached down, her long slender fingers unbuckling the harness which was holding her into her seat. Her eyes flashed across the dash, ensuring the artificial gravity was activated as well. Once she felt everything was fine, she leaned back slightly, watching the galaxies around them as the ship made it's way to Orion's ship likewise. It seemed like only a few seconds had passed before Ursa was called for Xael to come see Cel, stating he was passed out in the hall. Xael's brow furrowed and she got up, and continued toward Ursa as she kept speaking. She had said she thought a weird golden alien had been vacuumed into Cel's body. Xael's eyes shifted to a slight sideways glance, feeling confused and unsure about what Ursa was really talking about. "I'm not sure what you mean by a golden alien? Like... someone else was here? Or was it just... like... a fuzzy image? Could you have imagined it?" She waited for Ursa to respond, and when she did, Xael chewed her lower lip. After a few moments of Xael looking at Cel passed out, Ursa said she was going to tell Orion, and got up to leave. This left Xael and Cel alone, despite his unconscious state. She knelt down next to him and leaned in, listening to breathing. She assumed though by how Ursa was reacting, that he was alive. Warm breath caressed her cheek so she leaned back up again to look him over. Nothing seemed to be wrong on his body. No injured she could see flat out, he looked a bit pale, but was regardless of trauma or not. Again, her brow furrowed together. She figured she would try to wake him up again while she waited for Ursa to come back. "Cel...?" She said gently, reaching out to grip both of his arms just below to the shoulder, and shook him carefully. "There's something we need to talk to you about. You should probably open your eyes..." While waiting for him to give any type of response, Xael stood up and shifted toward a wall of cabinets a few feet away. She opened up a tall skinny one, pulling out a heating blanket and some cleansed water. She shut the cabinet door and returned to kneel next to him. First, she propped him up carefully against the wall into a seated position, put the blanket over top of him, and then opened up the water. With the water cylinder open, she poured some into the palm of her hand and wet Cel's face slightly. She then leaned back on her heels and watched him again.</s>	<\|message\|>Celebrimbor Sasaki As his vision went black, a new picture started to appear. It almost looked like it was back home on Phobos. His house full of people. Everyone he had once known, alive again. "What is going on here? I though this place was destroyed?" Cel walked around and checked every room. His bedroom was clean with the bed made and ready for himself and maybe a lucky lady. Cel laughed to himself then sat on the bed. "It's been awhile since I've brought anyone back to this room. To busy nowadays. Thought Ursa would end up in here last time we finished a mission together." He looked around again then sat in his blue reading chair. "That would have made things weird between us. Plus I hate sleeping around now anyways. If I'm with someone I'm going to make it special." Cel closed his eyes and took a deep breath in. The air was salty and the sounds around him changed. He was now sitting on a lawn chair on the beaches of earth. "How did I get here? What is happening?" Cel stood up, and watched as his feet sank into the sand a bit. The feeling was warm and grainy, but it still felt nice. He walked down to the water and waded around for a bit. The water was cold but refreshing. The air around wisped through his hair. Birds flew all over trying to dive and catch a fish or crabs. Out of the corner of his eye, Cel could see Ursa, Xael, and Orion playing in the water. They waved and beckoned him to come closer and play. "This is very strange. Am I dead?" He though to himself then started to make his way closer to the others. "Whatever it is, I think I like it here. No stress, no blown up world, no strange golden... think standing behind me." Right as he was about to reach him, Cel could faintly hear someone's voice. "Cel?? Handsome?? If you wake up now I'll show ya my jugs??" Only someone like Ursa would say that to him, but it wasn't the Ursa that was standing in front of him. This voice came from the sky. "Ursa don't be so vulgar. I don't need to see your breasts." He thought for a bit about the voice. It was strange that it came from the sky. Was he asleep? He couldn't remember much that happened before waking up at his house. In a quick flash though, the setting changed from the lovely beach to a desolated field. The grass and trees around him were on fire except fot one large one standing in the middle of the field. Standing right in front of it was the golden alien like creature he saw before. Cel took a fighting stance, ready to attack at any moment. "Who are you and what do you want!?" He yelled at the creature. It turned around and just looked at him blankly. In the fire light, Cel could see most of what this thing looked like. From head to toe the creature was covered in gold with the exception for a few spots that looked to have purple. On the shoulder, the creature had what looked to be metal wings coming from it. The creature didn't move at all and just stared at Cel. He couldn't see any threat in it and started to walk closer. Still no movement as Cel approached slowly. As he got closer though, he could see a small engraving on the tree. The fire around them roared as he inched closer and closer to the tree. The golden creature turned as Cel passed it to look at the markings. "Golden Experience." Cel spoke the words slowly, hearing both words trying to understand them. "What the hell is Golden Experience?" He looked back up at the creature. "Is that what your name is? Golden Experience?" The creature shimmered as Cel spoke the words then disappeared quickly, only to reappear behind him. "What the..?" Cel was very confused but there was no time to think. An explosion went off right in front of them, and three even stranger creatures started running right at Cel. In no time, Cel and taken stance, ready to fight to the death. The creature behind him took the same exact stance. This surprised him, but it didn't matter right now. The attackers were right ontop of them. Cel was ready to strike as the first monster lunged at him, but instead of Cel making the punch, Golden Experience struck first. "Muda!" It said as it landed the first punch, skyrocketing the monster 20ft in the air. There was a splat as it landed and the other two monsters cowered a bit. It wasn't long though before they started to charge. Golden experience took one of them and started to punch relentlessly. "Muda! Muda! Muda! Muda!" It said over and over again as it decimated the creature. The other came straight for Cel which he in turn punched as hard as he could. He landed a couple good hits before creature hightailed it out of there. The fire started to die down as the time passed by. Cel looked at his hands and they were covered in blood from the few hits he landed. He the looked up at Golden Experience and smiled. "So you're on my side then?" no response. "Well I can't keep calling you Golden Experience because that's uuuhhh, that's a mouth full. So I guess I can call you my stand? Since you know, you stand behind me? Fuck it I don't know we'll figure it out." As Cel was talking, another voice came from the sky. "Cel...? There's something we need to talk to you about. You should probably open your eyes..." It sounded like Xael. The stand then disappeared into Cel and a flash of light happened. Cel shot straight up with a gasp. Xael was standing next to him. He seemed to be in some sort of medical bay. "What the hell happened. My head is pounding." He looked around for Ursa, but she wasn't there. "I just had the strangest dream. You guys were there and then there was this golden creature.. I think I called it Golden Experience? I don't know it was strange." He looked at Xael who seemed to be confused. "Where's Ursa? I need to tell her something. Plus she owes me something as well."</s>
<\|description\|>Xael [Zay-Uhl] Niahm [Knee-Am] Age: Appears 22 Race: Appears human Home Planet: Theonia Z17, Galaxy Theon Skills: To be roleplayed Hobbies: People watching, dancing in the rain, going to plays/operas. Job: To be roleplayed Rank: N/A Likes: Fall, rain and thunderstorms, blue and silver, animals, coffee and wine. Dislikes: Tbr Appearance: Other: Backstory: To be roleplayed</s> <\|message\|>Orion Steiner The crowd of overly aggressive marines looked out of place in the upscale lounge and Oriion felt he should have picked a private booth to meet instead of one with a view of the entrance but he knew he had to watch his back now on Phobos. "The Rulons sure as hell didnt expect the Timberwolf cresting the hill to interrupt their little chemical weapons deal" Orion thought, figuring for sure theyd be sending another hit squad or care package again. He began to think how he should return the favour when one of the unruly marines bumped into his shoulder knocking Orions Sazerrac to the floor. "Watch it you royal ass" said the marine in a drunken stupor as he laughed and pointed out what happened to his buddies. Hurriedly a young waitress rushed over to take care of the issue while Orion ignored the obvious 2 day leave given to this mouth breather who in his infinite wisdom decided to fill his few fleeting moments with alcohol. The waitress came over but unfortunately slipped on the wet floor in her hurry. The marines laughed even louder. Seeing the waitress in obvious pain and near tears Orion put down his now empty cocktail glass and reached down to assist her in getting up. "It's OK miss, we will just move to a private booth and you can serve us away from these cowboys. He whispered and calmy helped her up off the floor. If you could point me to the furthest one and come to us when youve had a moment of rest. I'm in no hurry.. She smiled acknowledging his kindness "Thank you and I'll get you another Sazerrac sir. as she rushed to the back to hide the tears and embarrasment. Orion began to turn around when he got caught by a sucker punch to the side of his jaw. The marine had decided to escalate the situation. Orion reeled almost losing his balance and staggered back. The Marine yelled "C'mon you blue blood, I'll wipe the floor with you.. Orion stood ready for his rush but told the marine You've got one chance to relax devil dog; go find another place to waste your leave.. This just infuriated the marine and his buddies who were now gathering behind him. As the marines faces all became flushed with anger Orion understanding the situation slid back his cloak and pressed a button on his lapel. A huge figure appeared from the shadow of the booth and pushed through the marines to grab the instigator by the shoulder. A.C.E (Automated Cybernetic Enhanced) was a 7 foot robot who looked as big as he was powerful with a large chest armoured in cobalt titanium giving off an almost blueish purple hue in the light. The marine swung his fist around to connect with the would be adversary and smashed it directly on ACE's chest. The sound of his knuckles smashing could be heard over the silence that had developed during the outbreak. The marine screamed out in agony and doubled over in pain as ACE squeezed his shoulder hard enough to bring the marine to his knees. The other marines stood in awe while the bouncers finally arrived to disperse the fight. Once everything had calmed down and the battered marine had finally relented; Orion said "That's enough ACE, Im sure his days of fingerbanging old sally rottencrotch are over. Release. No Factor stated ACE in a semi robotic tone as he released the marine. Once the commotion had died down and the drunkards dismissed from the lounge the waitress came over with the drink. "This is on the house tonight and thank you once again, Sir. Don't worry about it Orion said I just hope youre alright.. She stammered "Those were the 8th Fusiliers. They just got back from a huge invasion. Its all over the news if you havent seen. I was kinda worried you were going to get hurt but I see your buddy came in pretty handy tonight. Orion patted ACE, chuckled, and said Yeah he has his benefits except hes not the best with sparring. By the way here is something for your troubles.. Orion hands her a C-Note. Oh my god she says Thank you so much, if there is anything you need just tap the ruby button on the compad and I'll be here as fast as i can.. Orion stopped her just before leaving Before you go there is one thing you can do for me. I'm waiting for a some people that most definitely will stick out like a sore thumb. Can you make sure that they are shown their way here?. Absolutely she said. Oh and dear? Orion said. Yes? the waitress responded. Could you find it in your heart to possibly fit old ACE here in the back?</s> <\|message\|>Ursa Cooper Club Cyanide was a small club in the downtown area of Phobos, it was a hub for some of the criminal elite in the area and a place the locals were kind enough to avoid most nights. This evening the area was only mildly crowded with a few lost tourists chatting here and there. The bar itself was dark with simple cocktail lamps and green velvet couches. Imported wood and black leather built most of the bar, giving it a warm pub feeling. Ursa was sat in the back, her Treo's Pizza hat turned backward to keep her hair out of her face. A half-drunk beer lay on the table whilst a cigarette and a book occupied her hands. She kept it just partly covering her face as she read over the newest book on Economic Physics in the Ragon Galaxy by Prof. Gix Moolson. She could have opened the book on her watch but, she didn't like virtual reading. Her preference for real paper over a hologram made a vintage book collectors dream. Most physical copies of books were expensive and the masses were extinct. Aside from the physical book though, Ursa looked like a scrub. Her hair was combed but hung loose around her shoulders, her jeans were dirty, her sneakers used to be white and her jacket was clearly old and worn. She had tattoos and light makeup that she put on in case any Draconians came by, but otherwise, she looked like a poor college kid. She flipped the page, as she waited for her friend to arrive. Much to Mac and Takashi's dismay, she had decided to remain at this spaceport for at least another night as they headed towards one of her security warehouses with their newly collected loot. She loved her ship and crew but at times she needed room to breathe, collect her thoughts, and try to enjoy the small victories. Plus with Celebrimbor phoning to get a drink, she couldn't exactly say no. The Yakuza were a deadly force and she had aided them on multiple occasions to smuggle bodies or drugs across the galaxy. She had also helped there enemies with the same aid, but she kept that to herself. She wasn't biased when it came to who she worked for it was all just business. That's probably why she got along with Celebrimbor, they both had their own code of ethics and respected it. She took a drag of her cigarette feeling a shift in the room. She peered over her book seeing a young woman enter the bar. Men seemed to turn to stare at the innocent-looking girl who moved almost like a dancer towards a corner booth. Ursa smirked giving the young woman koodo's for coming to this dump by herself. Brave woman. She tapped off her cigarette into an incinerator tray and returned to her book, sinking back into the darkness of her booth to remain as inconspicuous as she could. Suddenly her attention moved to a few drunken marines and a young man who she could only partially see through the crowd. She sighed her attention keeping to the book, not surprised that a rowdy crowd was present tonight. She took a swig of beer, trying to get comfy, as she waited for her friend, hoping that the chaos would be small tonight.</s> <\|message\|>Celebrimbor Sasaki The travel to club Cyanide took a little longer then expected. The town was busy as hell and everyone was trying to get somewhere. Once he finally arrived, Celebrimbor strolled into the bar ready to drink. It didn't take long for him to realize that he missed a fight. Some marines where quickly making their way past everyone and out the door. They seemed a little roughed up but, nothing compared to what normally happens here. Before sitting down, Celebrimbor looked around to see what kind of people where around for the night. Many different races and species as per usual, nothing out of the ordinary. A few people did catch his eye though. One woman who was sitting in a corner booth Who he'd never seen before and then a man in a bomber jacket heading to a private room. This raised his brow a little. Only people who really go back there are usually about to make an illegal deal. Normally that would be his place to step in and lay down the law but, tonight the only law he was going to lay down was the shots. Once done looking around, Celebrimbor found Ursa pretty fast. Wasn't to hard to spot the woman when she dressed like an unfortunate soul. This made him laugh a little since he's always offered to help her out though she keeps refusing him. Cel walked over and took a seat next to Ursa. Still running around in rags I see. Celebrimbor smirked then ordered the two of them some drinks. Hey I appreciate you coming out tonight with me. Putting our jobs aside, you're one of the only friends I have outside of the Yakuza I can talk to. The waitress came back with the drinks. Three shots of the law, which contained 3 different types of alcohol, and One scotch on the rocks. An earth drink he discovered on a trip a few years back. I'm sure you're wondering why I called you out of the blue like that. Well... Cel slammed back his three shots and then the scotch. Astrik was murdered tonight by woman who clams he forced himself on her. It didn't really surprise me all to much since he was hammered off his ass. I could smell it the moment I walked in. Well anyways, the rest of the family wants me to take over but I'm not to sure I'd want that position at all. If you recall, I told you once that I wanted to leave the family. As the two of them where talking, a young drunk man walked over to the table and placed a gun down on it. Celebrimbor just looked up at the man, already unimpressed. Excuse me sir I'm trying to have a private conversation with my friend here. The man just laughed and the club went silent. You Yakuza are always hogging the whores around here. How about giving this one up to one of us? The man slurred his words and turned towards his buddy's and started to laugh with them. He obviously didn't understand what it meant to talk down to a Yakuza like that. Especially one of Celebrimbors stature. Look buddy I don't want to cause a scene, so I'd appreciate it if you apologized to my friend here before things get ugly. He could see Ursa start to reach for her guns. Celebrimbor didn't like guns all that much. To the Yakuza they were a cowards weapon. Fists or swords where more his style but could work with anything. The man, though, just laughed harder with his buddy's and took another drink. What're you gonna do big ma... And before he could finish his sentence, Cel had punched him square in the jaw. Dropping the man to the floor. His friends quickly stood up ready to fight. Cel cracked his knuckles and stood up as well. This really isn't the night you want to do this. I got this Ursa. You just enjoy your book. The men just growled at Cel then leapt right at him. There was four of them so nothing that would even break a sweat. Cels first punch landed right in the gut then the other in another mans nose. A crack a could be heard from the second mans face. The third man made right swing for Cels face which Cel promptly stepped back for. He then pulled the third man close to him by the scruff of the neck, then slammed him into the ground. The fourth man cowered a bit as he watched his friends get pummelled in seconds. He then dropped to the ground and started to beg for forgiveness, apologizing for his other friends. Celebrimbor couldn't stand this kind of shit in a fight. He proceeded to stomp the mans face in to the ground, knocking him out cold. Apologies accepted. Celebrimbor smirked as he looked back up to the crowd. Everyone in the club stared at him, half in shock and half in awe. Celebrimbor just raised his eyebrow and spoke. Don't fuck with the Yakuza. Get back to your drinks. Everyone turned around and started to chatter again as if nothing ad just happened. The bouncers came over and pulled the five men away, nodding at Celebrimbor as they left. Cel sat back down next to Ursa and ordered another drink. How's the book?</s>	<\|message\|>Xael [Zay-Uhl] Niahm [Knee-Am] As Xael sat in the corner, her eyes locked with one of the waitresses' and the woman nodded once, bustling about before heading off toward the bar, and ordering Xael's usual drink, a bellini. Once it was delivered, Xael took a long in hale of the peach scent, and then sipped at the icy beverage happily. While this happened, she watched as some military type guys were giving another guy some trouble, but they were taken care of with his little robot friend. The guy disappeared into the back area, and shortly after another guy got into a huge, but quick fight, with 4 guys who seemed extremely drunk. This all made for great entertainment, and she never really could understand why people got so weird when they were drunk. Xael never allowed herself to get like that, so the idea really was foreign. She sipped once more at her beverage, and watched as the blonde male who had fought off the four guys, sat back down and seemed to order another drink. He was sitting with a teal haired woman who had tattoos, but she seemed engrossed in a book of some kind. Xael narrowed her eyes to try and read the name on the cover, since it was tilted up slightly. The title was Economic Physics in the Ragon Galaxy by Prof. Gix Moolson. Xael tilted her head curiously, but figured it probably wasn't her style. Usually this bar wasn't so packed, but again that was probably due to the convention. With a sigh, Xael leaned back into the booth and continued to watch the scenes around her, listening and observing in complete silence, while everyone else chatted, sang, or argued.</s>
<\|description\|>Xael [Zay-Uhl] Niahm [Knee-Am] Age: Appears 22 Race: Appears human Home Planet: Theonia Z17, Galaxy Theon Skills: To be roleplayed Hobbies: People watching, dancing in the rain, going to plays/operas. Job: To be roleplayed Rank: N/A Likes: Fall, rain and thunderstorms, blue and silver, animals, coffee and wine. Dislikes: Tbr Appearance: Other: Backstory: To be roleplayed</s> <\|message\|>Xael [Zay-Uhl] Niahm [Knee-Am] Unbeknownst to the teal haired woman and the elf looking guy, Xael was listening into their conversation the entire time they were talking, as well as when the guy was using his vidcom. Vidcoms were common among most creatures, except for maybe the lower class. But they were the simplest way to communicate. Their conversation was pretty interesting. Mob type stuff it sounded like. With this in mind, Xael tried to be discreet about listening in. Things sounded pretty interesting, and before she knew it, Xael had finished her drink. A waitress came by, asking if she could refill it, but Xael shook her head and declined, giving the woman some money to pay for the lone drink. After the waitress left, Xael watched as the teal haired woman approached her table, book in hand. She dropped in gently onto the table, and spoke. "Hi. Noticed you were looking at it. I finished so..enjoy." Xael looked at the woman, slightly surprised, but thanked her. "Thank you. Not many people read anymore..." Instead of responding though, the woman simply walked off into the back booths. Xael's brow furrowed together, confused. With this confusion, she got up from her seat and followed the woman into the back. She was unsure if she was allowed back there, but went anyways. "Wait! Let me repay you for the book at least?" As she approached the private booth, the elf guy, the woman, and another guy were speaking, sounding like they were making a deal, or trying to. "Oh. Uh, sorry I'll go..."</s> <\|message\|>Orion Steiner Orion realized by her demeanour how confident but perhaps how shy the teal haired woman was. Or maybe she was just blushing. He thought to himself if she only took off that goofy looking hat she wouldn't look like a scow mechanic, but he forced himself to focus and not be led astray. He's been burned too many times. Lost too much already to be guided by emotions. "I'll offer you the going rate +10%". Orion said to Ursa. "If you can wait For a week I can add in an extra 20%, Mr.Strokath here is accompanying me and perhaps that can assuage any thoughts of double crosses as you too are acquainted. I need a simple in and out with no questions asked. I would fly myself but I need to address Security while you fly so we don't have any bad impacts so to speak". "Now, Cel tells me your good. Would you feel like telling me why your not just some Random jockey with another amazing reputation?" She looked a little taken aback and was about to reply before another lady appeared out of nowhere with a book in hand. She stammered and was at a loss for words and seemed to be. Focused on the Teal haired pilot. "Pardon me Ursa" Orion said "I don't mean any I'll will, I just need someone to say what they will.....". Orion paused. He shut off part of his vidcom that was displaying his interceptor and slid a button on his lapel to recall A.C.E. "Can we help you miss?" An alarm began to sound around the station, it seemed the station had been putting out an emergency alert for some reason. Everyone's vidcomms began to light up in the club, on the walkways, and in some of the shops. Cino cancelled the alert, the flashing was interfering with his sight picture on the target. It was bad enough the target had moved to a darker locale. He normally watches the front. The bomber jacket wasn't enough to conceal who he was but enough for a place such as the club he was in. The target had moved after dealing with a bunch of drunk marines but it didn't matter, he didn't have much time left. What did bother Cino was the people that suddenly appeared. Celebrimbor he knew was Yakuza From previous contracts but the other two civs he did not know. Cino began his breath control, it was a perfect opportunity for the hit with so much confusion. He had loaded flechette roundS into his Bison Mk.8 autorifle as he was told the target usually wore body armour. It needed to be a clean kill as was specified in the contract. He aimed his hi power electronic scope on the lapel of Orion Steiner gauging the distance. Heart first as this is a message from a loved one. A Slow blur entered the background but he ignored as he fingered the hair trigger and fired.</s> <\|message\|>Ursa Cooper Ursa listened to the young man with a raised eyebrow, as he offered the going rate plus 10% or 20% if she waited. She looked over at Cel with a confused expression, wondering if he explained to this young man her abilities. When he asked for her to share the credentials she bawked, growing standoffish as her brows came together. Now Ursa was not a cocky person naturally, she usually liked for people to consider her an underdog, but having to explain why she was one of the top smugglers of their century was something she found a bit demeaning. She opened her mouth about to let him be verbally beaten down when he seemed to catch on to her thoughts. She paused letting him speak, simmering down slightly when the young woman from before entered. She looked over at her and shook her head as if to say that she didn't have to pay her back. Suddenly the alarms went off and Ursa looked down at her vid com noting that the entire spaceport was in high alert, and was calling for a full evacuation of Phobos. She felt a wave of relief that her crew was off on a fuel drop and nowhere near here. As a smuggler, she was used to thinking on her feet and turned to the young woman about to relieve her of her worries about paying her back when she noticed a slight glint in the club. She noticed the scope and reacted immediately just as a shot went off. She lunged at Orion, using her full weight to knock him off his feet, as the bullet whizzed by hitting the wall behind him. She sat up, looking down at him quietly, "You still alive, cowboy?" She waited for a response before she nodded, "Good. Now, I don't have a rap sheet to give ya, but I'm sure you've heard of me. I'm Ursa...Ursa Cooper." She didn't stay long rolling off of him, as she kept her head down, picking up her hat as she fit it back over her hair as she eyed the exit, "I can pilot for ya, but only because Cel over there is a friend and can cover the charge if you can't pay it. Which I very much doubt you can. Now, my ship is at the port on the other side of town. Do any of you have anything closer, regardless of what just happened we need to evacuate. Fast. Once we gett out of here, you can tell me who the fuck you are and why I just had to save your ass from getting shot to hell. " She eyed the young woman, "You need a ride out of here darling?"</s> <\|message\|>Celebrimbor Sasaki Celebrimbor listened to Orian knowing what Ursa's abilities were. He smirked a bit to himself as Orion kept going. After a bit though he started to drone everything out and start to think about the plan. It shouldn't be to hard of a job plus he could handle just about anything. The beautiful girl he had saw before came up to there table with Ursa's book. He could see her better now and she will as very attractive. This was short lived though. While Ursa and Orion where still in conversation, Cel felt a change in the atmosphere. The hairs on the back of his neck started to stand up. As this happened, everyone's vidcoms started to light up. This isn't even what his attention was on at this point. From a ways away, Cel could heat the cocking of a Bison Mk.8 auto rifle. Cel was unable to react in time before the shot went off. Ursa jumped to protect Orian and once she was moved, Cel took off in the direction of the shot accidentally pushing the other girl out of the way. Normally he would apologize to her and help her up but, there was no time for that now. Whoever shot at Orion needed to be caught and now. Celebrimbor shoved past people and yelled at them to move before he was able to get out of the club. He could see where the person had shot from but, like he figured, the shooter wasn't there. If he had the time he would be able to call up the family and have them run the stats on everyone who owned that type of rifle. This frustrated Cel but there was more important things going on right now. He rushed back into the club to find the others and see how Orion was doing. He probably wanted to leave as fast as possible now after this.</s>	<\|message\|>Xael [Zay-Uhl] Niahm [Knee-Am] "Can we help you miss?" The words were spoken, but Xael barely heard them because she felt a strange and ominous feeling come over her. The music in the bar was still playing and the bass was low and rhythmic. She turned around, the teal haired woman doing so likewise to look at something. Then everything happened in slow motion, but also quicker than it seemed was possible. She heard the sound of a gun go off, and turned to see the woman lunge toward the guy she had been trying to make a deal with. The elf looking guy got up to go chase down the gunman, pushing Xael out of the way as he shifted passed her. The connection threw her back, stumbling into the wall behind her. Her head smacked against the cement pillar and blood began to drop down the back of her head and down her neck. It was hidden by her long black hair, but either way she could smell and feel it. She groaned, standing up straight again when her vidcom went off, sounding an alarm. It was similar, but not exactly alike the one used for testing the emergency plans. At that moment, everyone else who owned a vidcom seemed to go silent and glance down at theirs as well. The music that had been playing shifted into a panic inducing voice, which was automated. "Code White! Vacate immediately! Code White! Vacate immediately! Code White! Vacate immediately!" Xael's stomach dropped. Code white meant that the entire planet was in danger, and everyone needed to evacuate in whatever way possible to the nearest habitable planet for safety. She glanced at the woman and man again, her blue eyes widening when the woman spoke. "You need a ride out of here darling?" "I have a ride. If that ship of yours you were talking about isn't close by, we can leave on mine. I need a decision quick though, otherwise we'll all be dead." She waited only for a moment for a response, and then began heading out toward the door, wanting to silence her vidcom. Nothing would override the emergency call though. So instead, she focused on getting whoever wanted to follow her, to her ship. She turned on her heels and darted with impeccable speed toward the door, shoving passed drunk patrons who were in full panic mode. This wasn't Xael's first experience with a Code White however, so she was as calm as she could be. She didn't bother looking back as it would just waste time. Crashing through the bar doors, the cold air stung her cheeks, which were flushed pink from the warmth inside the bar. "My ship is only a few blocks from here, on the South East landing pad. Come on!" She called behind her, hoping the others were following and keeping pace. She was quick despite her lack of height. Coming up to one of the street corners, a loud explosion sounded nearby accompanied by a blinding flash of red and white light. She could hear people screaming and another explosion followed only seconds later. With her feet continuously hitting the pavement, she glanced back to see what exactly was going on. No one would probably notice that she was barefoot. The other three were following in suit, and what looked to be meteors were falling everywhere from the sky, destroying everything in their path. Xael pressed a slender finger to the screen of her vidcom, trying to tune it to a radio station to find out what exactly was happening. Sometimes other planets or people would attack out of whatever reason. This seemed strange and random, with no warning like would be expected. As they approached the landing pad, another explosion occurred a little too close for comfort. It sent out shock waves similar to an Earthquake and tossed Xael forward onto the road in front of her. Shrapnel went flying from nearby buildings and luckily, she was able to narrowly avoid most of it with minor lesions. "Why does this keep happening?" she whispered to herself, standing back up and beginning her sprint again.</s>
<\|description\|>Xael [Zay-Uhl] Niahm [Knee-Am] Age: Appears 22 Race: Appears human Home Planet: Theonia Z17, Galaxy Theon Skills: To be roleplayed Hobbies: People watching, dancing in the rain, going to plays/operas. Job: To be roleplayed Rank: N/A Likes: Fall, rain and thunderstorms, blue and silver, animals, coffee and wine. Dislikes: Tbr Appearance: Other: Backstory: To be roleplayed</s> <\|message\|>Xael [Zay-Uhl] Niahm [Knee-Am] "Do you all actually think we have fucking time to stop by all of your ships!? The planet is fucking being destroyed you dickweeds!" Xael growled, the sound echoing through the cockpit as she sat down after Cel moved from the chair. She tried to ignore the other guy's comments. Obviously his little robot buddy didn't know shit because Xael's ship was one of the best live in ships from her planet. Sure, maybe it wasn't built for war, but that wasn't what she was about. Either way, it pissed her off, and her eyes flashed a bright blue before returning to the normal blue. "I can fix that up for you if you would like. Make it just like new." Cel said, offering to heal the wound at the back of her head. She would need to shower to get the blood out of her hair, and figured if he could fix the problem, she might as well let him, despite being annoyed. "Sure, I guess. In the meantime, you can explain to me about your mob boss conversation while we get to safety."</s> <\|message\|>Orion Steiner Orion brought up a picture of docking bay November. Well, what used to be it. The bay was completely obliterated and as to be expected, no interceptor. "Damn" cursed Orion slamming his fist on ACE. ACE jolted from the shock of his steel fist resetting to ensure his system would remain running without any bugs. The screen tripped and what must have been a firewall was bypassed on the ships screen. Nice trick. Wonder what else is hidden behind here. He thought better as the last thing he needed was to tell that girl what she didn't want to hear or see and I'm sure she wouldn't want him snooping so he pulled ACE out and directed him to find a place and to enter standby mode. "Relax blue eyes, it must have been this rust bucket over here, I'll get him to fix that up when he can" proclaimed Orion. "Anyways my ships toast so there's no need to be concerned however before we start making plans maybe we better figure out what the hell is going on out there cause I ain't got a clue."</s> <\|message\|>Ursa Cooper Ursa turned to Cel after he came back from fixing his hair, her focus clearly on keeping the ship from getting blown to bits or hit. She listened to his thoughts and nodded, "Oh I don't doubt that. Someone wants him dead and on top of this evacuation, it all seems a bit coincidental." She geared right, the ship shaking slightly as she moved her focus from Cel to the sky 'road.' She heard Cel's request and turned around quickly, "Oh right away your majesty. You just sit there looking pretty." She smirked at the new girl's comment, pulling up as they narrowly missed a Raxer 900 superspeeder. She grumbled turning back to hit a few buttons, "Thankyou..Let's just see if we get out of here with this ship intact then we can see about getting your vessel. Okay?" She turned to Orion as he brought up an image of the newly destroyed bay. Ursa ignored Orion's rage at Ace her thoughts moving to the port beneath her. Beside the bay was an orphanage called Red Tides. She knew of it because the kids there she would use to help her catch intel for the Draconians. Phobos was a rough place to live, but the kids didn't know any better. And now they never will.. She let out a soft breath, narrowing her eyes as she looked at the sky, hearing Orion's wish to find out what's happening, "I think it's about time we find out. I'm done with this crowd." She hit the gas and shot up, breaking out of the traffic to sore through the skies up towards the airlock. Ahead of them large cruisers and smaller personal space yachts were scattered, heading for the airlock as they tried to dodge large blasts. Ursa stayed calm, rolling back and forth as she twisted through spaces just big enough for her vehicle, to push through. Suddenly a blast came to the upper pocket and she was pushed to the left slamming into a deep grey spacecraft. It flew back hitting two more vehicles as they fell back to the blackened Phobos. Ursa pulled back grunting as she tried to regain control. She went against the current, barely hitting another speeder before pulling back. Moving again through the cracks before finally, she could see the entryway. She plowed through her eyes narrowing as she swore, "The blasts are aimed. They aren't random...They are trying to shoot civilians?!" She looked around at the cruisers that seemed big enough to take enough damage. She rolled past a Draconian styled yacht, and shot up towards the other side of a cruiser, leaving a very narrow space of escape. It would allow them to clear the air-lock and keep them out of range of the blasts, but it would be close. She knew that if they missed they would be dead, either crushed by the cruiser or smashed into the edge or another spacecraft. She smirked, letting anyone see the intention on her face. One of both wild abandon and delusion, before she sang out quickly an old earth song by Kansas, "CARRY ON MY WAYWARD SON, THERE WILL BE PEACE WHEN YOU ARE DONE! LAY YOUR WEARY HEAD TO REST!!! DON'T YOU CRY NO MORE!! HOLD ON!" She floored it, a cry of fearless abandon escaping her, as she lost herself in her own personal melody. She kicked the ship into high gear as the air in the craft pulled whatever wasn't nailed down across the room. She clenched the controls hard, her hat flying off of her head as she wrenched the craft a hard left as it rolled around facing Phobos. Moving backward, she swung it up into a vertical angle, her hair flying downwards as they slid just narrowly past the cruiser, and the airlock. She hit the controls to prep the vehicle for space travel and set her right side up, moving up the edge of the cruiser before she slowed, hoping to stay behind it as they came to see what was shooting them. Ursa let out a breath and turned to look at her companions, whom to her seemed a bit disheveled with the ships drastic twists, "Made it." She smiled wide as if she didn't just almost kill them before she turned back to the screen, pressing a button so that the windows were open to open space just as they began to slowly see what was shooting Phobos. Her eyes grew wide as she tried to understand what she was seeing, "What type of ship is that???"</s> <\|message\|>Celebrimbor Sasaki Cel winked at the girl before leaving to find a seat. "Once we're out of this mess I'll clean you up and make that better. I'll do my best to explain any questions you may have for me." He smiled at her then left. In the next room he found a spot to sit and buckle up. Knowing Ursa, she was going to fly like crazy. He held on tight as She flew them out of Phobos and into the atmosphere. Hell still raining down On the ground below. Cel has been in some shit before but nothing like this. Who would go this far to find one person? Right now that didn't matter. All he could think about was if anyone was going to make it and how he was going to threaten Orion. That man knew something and Celebrimbor knew that he did, otherwise there wouldn't have been a bullet shot at him. The craft tossed around as Ursa was dodging out of the way and with this, Cel's hair got all messed up again. "Why do I even try?" He groaned to himself as his hair waved around like crazy. "Maybe I'll just chop it all off." He thought to himself then instantly laughed "Yeah fuck that." He laughed some more as the ship started to slow down as it reached space. Cel could hear Ursa's what was that and came running. He didn't even have to ask when he saw the massive ship raining hell on the planet. This was it, he had to have answers and now. Cel Spun around to find Orion and drag him to the cockpit. It didn't take long for Cel long to find him, for he was basically where he was before. "You. Come with me now. He spoke deeply, sounding very irritated and pissed. He lead Orion to where Ursa was. "If you want to go any farther, you will explain to me what that is and why the hell it is after you.</s> <\|message\|>Orion Steiner Dragged up to the cockpit Orion looked up through the perspex glass in astonishment. "It can't be, that's impossible!" Eclipsed by Saturn and looming ominous like a demon backlit by flames was a space fortress of monstrous proportions. Gothic in architecture the fortress' midsection was slowly rotating clockwise while the upper and lower sections were rotating in the opposite direction to compensate for the loss of gravity in space. A ship of that size simply could not have enough gravimetric pods to safely create artificial gravity like capital ships could. Large bursts of flame erupted from 4 long apertures in the midsection which rained down upon the moon of Phobos' primary Colony station. Other bright flashes of light erupted as capital guns fired in addition with an engaged Phobos Fleet. Popping on the fortress' surface on what looked like a rippling bubble was the return fire from the fleet. Splashes of purple and green in what seemed an attack of such insignificance. "I will crush you as if you were but an ant under my thumb" thought Orion. ACE cut through the silence in response to Celebrimbors accusatory remarks with a cold explanation. "A planetary station originally designed for protection and interstellar trade, Nimbus Point One or NP1 was once an experimental hub designed for the Valorians stationed off the Gates of Auriga. An attack by Rulons with the intent as a first and last strike measure decimated a large portion of the Valorian fleet who were charged with protecting the station. Caught off guard and outgunned the Valorians fought a defensive battle but attrition took its toll. Time was desperately needed to stave off combined attacks on the station. Unknown to most people the station had many experimental weapons and even were testing Dark Void technology." Orion interrupted visibly shaken "In an effort to try to salvage lives and technology the Admiral of the station shifted orbit to shield what little was left of the fleet. Several of the larger ships who were transporting civilians used the stations experimental Dark Void and disappeared. I had a hand in designing some of the weapons and even drew up a rough sketch of a rotating payload delivery system to get dropships on planet surfaces faster and safer." He paused and whispered "Is evil something you are? or something you do?". Raising his voice "It cant be though. Those initial drawings were on the Sagittarius and that ship disappeared into the void and that station was destroyed!" Slamming his fist on the control panel, sadness giving rise to anger "and my sister gave her life to make sure of that!" Eyes watering from a flashback of his sisters mayday message hanging in his head Orion looked away from the party and out onto the maelstrom in front of him. "I don't know what else to say." Composed he looked back towards Celebrimbor intently. "I don't believe it would be after me? It makes no sense. Nothing does. Did you see the round that sniper used? A flechette round. Whoever wanted me dead also wanted my body found and wanted me to be recognized, publicly displayed but perhaps by someone with motive not to show me disfigured. Not a simple blow the back of my head off dirty kill. This was meticulous and this was calculated. It just doesn't make sense someone would go to the trouble and then order an orbital bombardment. No, this must be something else. That ship shouldn't even exist. Those weapons seem designed for an assault on the colony station itself." He paused hoping Cel would let his statement sink in before reacting he mentioned to ACE "Can you identify the ships name or callsign?" Orion stabilized himself as Ursa rocked the ship back towards Phobos in an effort to dodge a civilian Caravelle, its cockpit shattered and bodies floating into space; the moon appeared to be cracking from the continuous concussive force from the fortresses main guns. The colony station was in flames and few ships were coming out of the makeshift atmosphere anymore. In space, the ship was avoiding debris from all manner of destroyed imperial and private ships alike. Swarms of coordinated strikes seemed to be occurring on larger vessels, even ones that obviously had no defensive weapons and were purely civilian. The military channels were a cacophony of chatter, screams and calls for help went unanswered. Phobos was no more. The moon seemed to shudder before seemingly expunging a 1/3 of it's surface in opposite directions with light appearing from Saturn through the moons broken core. In the quiet moments that followed while the members looked out in awe at such a destructive force , blue light rippled from the massive station outwards. It flowed like a phosphorescent wake creating darkness where once there was light. Ships in the distance their drives burning bright turned to black and appeared to lose control. Using the shipboard computers ACE quickly scanned the behemoth "Class unidentified...technology unidentified...weapons unidentified...name identified...origin identified...previous location unidentified...presence of a gravimetric well increasing...". The wave got closer as some ships initiated their hyperdrives and escaped to long distant places. Orion cut ACE off before he could finish "Shut it down! Shut it all down now or were all dead!" Schematic</s>	<\|message\|>Xael [Zay-Uhl] Niahm [Knee-Am] Xael glanced at Ursa, who was expertly controlling her vessel. She was weaving in and out of spaces between other ships, rubble and people. She felt safe and despite not knowing this person from any universe, she was going to put her trust in her. They needed to get into hyperdrive as quickly as possible, but unfortunately that came with risks since there were new people around. Usually Xael never flew with others so it never mattered until this moment. But, it was her identity or their lives. She furrowed her brow slightly and moved to stand in front of Ursa. Xael was short enough that if she bent her knees, Ursa would be able to see over her. Xael breathed in deeply and stared at the dashboard. She reached out, pressing some tiny buttons that were almost invisible to anyone else. After inputting the sequence, a little thin piece of metal popped up from a hidden compartment. It was in the shape of a T and along the top held two small black holes. It held two tiny eye scanners. Xaels appearance shifted then. But if you blinked you wouldn't have noticed. The mechanism scanned her eyes and retreated back to it hiding place. Within a few seconds the hyperdrive was activated, and Xael shifted out of the way again, watching Cel drag Orion toward the cockpit, asking him to explain. While Xael was listening, her mouth dropped open slightly in shock and she for a moment couldn't believe what type of people she had gotten herself involved in. Shaking her head, she turned to Orion. "Well, if you created the blueprint for this ship, you must know it's weak spots? What can we do besides escape? Is there anything we can do? We have to do something!"</s>
<\|description\|>Xael [Zay-Uhl] Niahm [Knee-Am] Age: Appears 22 Race: Appears human Home Planet: Theonia Z17, Galaxy Theon Skills: To be roleplayed Hobbies: People watching, dancing in the rain, going to plays/operas. Job: To be roleplayed Rank: N/A Likes: Fall, rain and thunderstorms, blue and silver, animals, coffee and wine. Dislikes: Tbr Appearance: Other: Backstory: To be roleplayed</s> <\|message\|>Ursa Cooper The ship in front of them was something she had never witnessed before. It was a beast, with a functionality that both entranced and disturbed her. She jumped slightly, creating some space when Xael came to stand in front of her, touching the dash to bring out a hidden compartment that she assumed was part of the security feature. She watched the girl quietly, her eyebrows raising in question. She opened her mouth, about to ask the girl what she just saw when she noted the Hyperdrive was loaded and ready to go. She dodged a large piece of a broken cruiser, when her thoughts were interrupted by Cel and Orion's discussion. She eyed Xael giving her a, "I saw that…" look before she returned back to the massive ship in front of her, wondering who would design this terror. Her answer came from Orion and she turned to look up at him, only briefly before she eyed the small futile battle in front of her. ACE explained further about the station, and her eyes widened. Valorians, Dark Void technology! Who the hell was this guy?? She turned back to her job, the ship veering to the right, as she tried to focus on what Orion was saying. Despite the way she treated him early, she could tell his memories were painful, and his sadness touched her. She looked up at him quietly as he gazed at the maelstrom, not knowing what to say to comfort him. She pondered as to why she would want to when he explained that the man sent to kill him probably wasn't in coalition with this behemoth. She was about to comment on all this information when suddenly another ship swung towards them, She narrowly swung out of the way, gripping the handles tightly as she headed back towards Phobos. She charged through the carnage of space, expertly dodging heavy debris and strike shots. She could hear the harrowing calls for help and the screams of innocent civilians who just hours before were just laughing in the market place. A ship to the left of them blew up, bodies floating into space, those that weren't killed by the blast gasped for oxygen that they could not find. Ursa reared to the right, not willing to let herself be overcome by the carnage, as she had passengers with her. She was waiting for just the right moment to use the hyperdrive when suddenly a loud eruption exploded beneath her and the ship swung out. She grit her teeth, digging in her feet as she tried to retain control, "COME ON!!" She gained some leverage and swung back, noting something was wrong. It took her a minute to realize what it was. It was the silence. No more calls for help or orders to the fleet, because Phobos was gone. She stared forward, their ship surrounded by the remains of destroyed ships. She looked at it all with a torn expression not even realizing a tear had fallen down her cheek, as the chaos erupted around her. Suddenly a deep blue light erupted from the behemoth, and Ursa watched in horror as this wave hit many of the remaining ship's Drives cutting them off before her. This wasn't an act of war. This was a complete genocide. Annihilation to completion. Innocents destroyed so quickly and efficiently. She stared at the behemoth as if it had a new face. One showing an evil that she had never seen firsthand, and she had seen some dark hells in her own past. Her shock was broken by ACE in the background when suddenly Orion's voice hit her like a hammer. She followed his command, reacting quickly as she slammed back the control lever powering off the vessel instantly as all the lights and energy in the ship turned off. The wave only feet from the ship now. They were far enough from Phobos' atmosphere that they wouldn't fall but the gravity in the room was also canceled. Ursa rose slightly off her seat but was held down by her seatbelts. She glared at the ship in front of her, as she responded to Xael, "We can't do anything to it in this, and I don't think we have much time, before they realize that we are still alive. They clearly don't want any survivors and I don't plan on dying today. So.. Handso..I mean Orion, tell me when I can hyperdrive out of here..." She wiped her cheek, her emotions locked down as she turned down the ship's thermostat the air inside the ship turning colder by the minute. Just in case they were scanning for bodies, the cold would help to block their heat signatures. It wasn't a fast method but with that machine as big as it was, she figured its range was split into different quadrants which would make readings a smaller percentage, "That might help if they are tracking for life forms. Try to keep your breaths short and soft."</s> <\|message\|>Celebrimbor Sasaki As much as Cel knew the kind of pain Orion was feeling, he had a bit of a hard time feeling bad for him in this moment. The Behemoth in front of them was destroying everything in its path. It still shocked him that anyone could build something like this and he had seen some pretty scary shit in the past. In that moment though, Cel felt a cool brush of air behind him. He spun around to see if someone else was on the ship with them but nothing was there. He then felt pressure on his right arm but, same as before, no one was touching him. Cel shook his head. "Get a grip Cel. You've seen death before." He thought to himself thinking it was just nerves, but the feeling of someone being around him wouldn't go away. As he turned around to look back at the death machine, Phobos exploded into nothing. Ships where blowing up from the force and rubble of the now destroyed moon. Everything he had known and loved was gone. Ursa had shut down the ship as Orion yelled. They were suspended in space, watching the carnage unfold around them. Cel had to look away. There was no hope for anyone else out there unless they got lucky like the four of them did. "Seeing as we're going to be stuck here for a while, we might as well get better acquainted." He mostly said that to get everyone's attention away from the horror outside. He looked at the new girl and shook her hand properly. "I'm Celebrimbor, but you can cal me Cel for short. Makes it easier." He smiled then kissed her hand. He already knew who Ursa was, given probably not aswell as he'd liked. She worked for him before and had a relatively good relationship with her, but there was probably a lot that he didn't know about her. As for Orion.... He didn't want to know him.</s> <\|message\|>Orion Steiner "That's a good question" stated Orion "Ursa, is it?". Ursa nodded an affirmative while maintaining her facial expression. Orion could see the breath begin to form from the loss in temperature and as a kind gesture offered his coat to Ursa. "It's going to get colder and you might want this For the time being.". He paused "Now we would have to ask the missus over here about the hyperdrive." Orion turned towards Xael. "Forgive my intrusions but I am most appreciative of you risking to travel with us particularly without knowing who or what we were. Formal introductions would be prudent concerning the state we are in." Orion thought for a moment and looked back towards Ursa who had that old familiar look and Drifted his gaze to the black monstrosity outside the cockpit. "Officially I am Star Colonel Orion Cassius Steiner of the 21st Centauri Lancers. Prince to the Valorian Hedgemony. I was a student under Anastasius Focht of the Maskirovka before our world Valera erupted into full scale war with the Rulons again. I feel compelled to be honest with you all. I have been trying to secure the funds and back channel support for Valora. We are at a stalemate and have been fighting a losing war. I sequestered Celebrimbors services for transport to my dropship. We all seem to have come together by pure coincidence. Gladly I thank you all for putting any differences aside to emerge from this horror unscathed." He extended the olive branch "This is your ship. I am at your mercy. I would prefer and I would pay you in kind if you would take me to my dropship, however if you want to go to another system, I can find an alternate way to get back". Celebrimbor Looked up in dismay most likely perturbed by Orion's choice to offer an alternative that did not coincide with him getting his deal so Orion mentioned "Don't worry Cel, our deal still stands and in light of the circumstances I'm sure we can come to another arrangement that works for both of us." Orion turned back to the control panel pushing himself off of a stagnate ACE, his magnetics keeping him attached to the deck in near zero g. "Just curious". He motioned to Xael "How long would it take for your systemS to be back. Without a doubt whomever they are will be sending out scout fighters to finish the job". He turned back to Ursa draping his jacket over her and the chair. "That was some nifty flying, you didn't learn that all from simple shoot an scoots. You've been places and by the look on your face Wherever it was left a scar. The eyes don't lie." He stared at her for a moment looking past the emotional barricade she was putting up. He'd seen that look every time he looked in a mirror. "Now once we get this up and running is there anything I can do to assist?" ............autonomous computerized entity boot sequence initiated. ............Diagnostic recovery in progress. ............Sensors Initiating. ............................... ............uplink to Master override complete. ............Fission startup initiated. ........................3...2...1. Autonomous systems activated. Weapon Systems Nominal. Life Support Systems Nominal. All Systems Nominal. Searching.................... Status Operation Nova Redoubt .... pending Status Operation Vigilance ... pending Status Operation Nimbus Point 1 ... Complete. Files Secured. Status Sagittarius ... unknown Status Valora ... unknown ...unable to update Unable to locate Signal 224. Unable to locate Signal 418. Commencing secondary startup and tertiary systems. Memory purge, systems incomplete. Beginning tertiary diagnostics and memory defrag...</s> <\|message\|>Ursa Cooper As the temperature dropped, Ursa brought her hands up to her mouth, trying to warm them slightly as she shivered. Orion walked over and she turned to look at him, giving him a nod when he mentioned her name. She was about to reject the offer of his coat in protest of her pride when he paused turning to Xael. Ursa listened in to Orion's introduction, taking in the information with a newfound interest. She knew about the war on Valera through her boss Jerry. That sector was run by Yuri's crew, and he was probably providing the Rulon's with ex-grade munitions to fight the Valorian's, or aiding the Valorians in the same manner. Hell, the bastard was probably doing runs for both. She didn't know and she was glad that she could honestly say she knew nothing about it. Would be messy if Orion found out her compatriot was batting for the other team. She turned away looking out at the carnage before her as she tried to deduce a pathway out of here. The loss of both Phobos and the innocent lives that settled there would haunt her. She was lucky to be alive. They all were. She turned to look at Xael with a tough reassuring smile, "Don't worry about the fighters, Dollface. I've never lost a client or a vessel in my entire career and I don't intend to anytime soon. Just in case we die though, I also want to thank you for letting us use your vessel. I'm Ursa Cooper by the way!" She shivered again her hands shaking slightly on the handles when a jacket was draped over her and the chair. She looked up at Orion, wishing her hat didn't fly off earlier as she felt slightly exposed. She gave him a cool look, one she used to keep most men at arms length when he spoke. She felt the urge to look away, not liking that he seemed to be able to look right through her. Her yellow eyes didn't waver though, and even though she seemed to keep her control, she was slightly rattled. She felt the sudden urge to be honest, and to let him see the pain she carried. Perhaps it was because she could see he had it to as he said visible in his own eyes. She didn't trust him though, she could already tell by her attitude with him that she was playing with fire. Secrets were her livelihood and the less anyone knew about her the better. So she closed up and the brief moment of truth was replaced with a mischievous smirk, her thick titanium walls closing to him as she responded lightly in a teasing drawl, "Thanks, cowboy. I bet you say that to all the pretty girls. And uh..thanks for the coat." She gave him a too-wide smile as she put it on the right way, her hands shaky as she pulled it tight around her. Humor was a defense mechanism she used often, and even with the sadness just below the surface, she felt it necessary to use it now. She was already feeling warmer as she turned to watch the big behemoth, move slowly away from the destroyed remains of Phobos. She could see from a distance the release of scouting ships, with four to five heading in their direction. She swore, "Shit..." She then looked up at Orion at his request to help and turned to Xael, "That depends on the weapon system this ship is equipped with. Dollface, we have got five bogies coming this way, and the temperature drop will only hide us for so long. I'm assuming the big boy needs time to recharge that wave before it hits again so if we want to hyperdrive we need to do it soon. It will take too long to give me full access so you will have to man the drive." She turned to Ace who seemed to be spewing out commands/system checks too fast for her to comprehend, "Is uh..he okay? Seems like he has a few wires loose?"</s>	<\|message\|>Xael [Zay-Uhl] Niahm [Knee-Am] Xael didn't seem to be bothered by the drop in temperature and simply watched Ursa's face as she navigated the ship. It would probably take 3-7 minutes to reboot the ship depending, though most times it never got to the 7 minute mark. "I'm Xael. It's too bad this circumstance was how we'd meet. And it should take under 7 minutes to reboot. My ship is equipped with shield barricades and a small laser, which is mostly used for getting rid of small space rocks in my way. I've never had to use it for battle before. I will say though, I'm not the fighting type. So if escaping is the best option, I vote for that. I can control the drive if that's what's needed." Xael looked at the spot on her hand in which Cel had kissed and a soft, pinkish hue shifted across her cheeks momentarily. She tried to ignore the look Ursa gave her though. "We can go any place you all want or need to. I don't have anywhere to be."</s>
<\|description\|>Xael [Zay-Uhl] Niahm [Knee-Am] Age: Appears 22 Race: Appears human Home Planet: Theonia Z17, Galaxy Theon Skills: To be roleplayed Hobbies: People watching, dancing in the rain, going to plays/operas. Job: To be roleplayed Rank: N/A Likes: Fall, rain and thunderstorms, blue and silver, animals, coffee and wine. Dislikes: Tbr Appearance: Other: Backstory: To be roleplayed</s> <\|message\|>Orion Steiner "The ship is on the other side of that" Orion pointing to the giant plasma cloud that flickered and shot out bursts of gaseous balls. "We don't have to go through, but it will take a days travel to get around it. We still have to watch for asteroids and the occasional pirate lurking but I'm sure we will be fine". Orion began to unhook ACE who definitely had seen better days and inputted a new set of coordinates into the ships . "If you all would excuse me, this will get us where we need, your autopilot can handle it but someone should keep watch in case we get jumped. If you need me I'll be going through ACEs data and figuring out what just happened in your cargo bay." Orion followed slowly by ACE found the cargo bay and was able to find a spot in the rear secluded and dimly lit. He had ACE begin running through his diagnostics and spitting out problem after problem to him. He would need some techs to work on him once he got to his dropship. "I don't have time for this" he whispered to himself. "ACE, I need something to take my mind off of all this data. Play me something She would like." ACEs voice changed from a robotic and guttural sound to a seemingly prerecorded Feminine voice. "How about my favourite? I know you secretely like it". Orion replied "That would be fine honey". The aria began to play lightly in the background for a minute before the feminine recording chimed in "Do you want me to leave you alone to think Orion? It's been awhile since we talked But I understand what your going through." Orion speaking words as if he said them a million times already "Yes Kristi, I will make time for us when I get back. I promise we will get there soon!". The feminine voice suddenly Stopped and changed back to the guttural form of ACE. "Do you want me to Continue playIn the selection or would you prefer something else, sir?". Orion layer down on his back on the deck, "No continue, once it's finished que up the data on the NP1 and the Mortem Obire. I need everything we got." I'm just going to close my eyes for a bit. The aria had finished as Orion slowly opened up his eyes to ACEs pop down monitor opening and loading the data metrics for the two behemoths. "Thanks ACE". Orion began to rifle through the screen on the monitor and after a few more minutes of comparing he piped up in a stern voice. "Play Entry of the gods to Valhalla"</s> <\|message\|>Celebrimbor Sasaki Cel sat down behind Xael and ran his hand through his hair. It seemed like it was still turning black. He sighed then buckled in. "Don't worry about it. When I find out what's going on you'll be the first to know." He winked at her then tightened the belt, knowing how crazy Ursa would be driving. The cold embraced his arm again, slowly moving up his arm again, but stopping at his shoulder. "Just fuck off." He muttered to himself. Ursa started up the ship and started playing her music as they flew through the void, dodging everything that came at them. Seeing what Orion and Xael where doing, Cel got up when he had a moment to breath and took off for the lasers and shield. He heard Ursa call for him and Orion to hop on the laser. "I'm way ahead of you!" He hollered back. Once he found the controls, Cel felt more comfortable. "Now this is what I like!" He pulled up the focus and started to aim. Blasting everything that came their way. One after another, ship by ship, he was hitting. The laser wasn't strong enough to destroy any of the ships, but it was enough to disable. Normally at this speed he would miss a few times, but each shot was hitting its mark. Almost as if something was guiding his hand. The cold creeped up his other arm again stopping at his shoulders. Out of nowhere though, the stars started to shoot buy faster and faster. "They must have gotten the hyperdrive going. I should go check on the others again and make sure everyone's okay." Cel stood up and started to make his way back to the cockpit, but his legs started to give out on him. The shiver returned and the cold started to engulf his whole body again. "What.... is happening to me." he studdered then fell to his knees. He looked at his hands then at the glass in front of him. Though it wasn't much, he could see the reflection of himself and the gold figure behind him. It was taking more of a form. It looked humanoid but also Alien. Cel only caught a glimpse of the figure before the rest of his body gave out and fell to the floor. His vision blurred but before he passed out, he could see the faint figure of someone. Maybe someone real. "Damn it." Cel grunted before passing out.</s> <\|message\|>Ursa Cooper The large plasma cloud that Orion pointed to made Ursa squirm, her voice slightly scratchy, "Probably could get through it, but the ship doesn't need the extra damage." With Orion putting in some coordinates and setting the ship to autopilot Ursa changed the temperature back to normal before she stood up, stretching slightly. She rubbed her neck, "I suppose I can take first watch..I am still burning off some energy from the chase." She watched as Orion took off with Ace and walked over to her hat turning it around so that she could push her bangs out of her face before she looked over at Xael, "Thanks for the directions, and the ship. I know having us bums join you probably wasn't what you were planning today." She gave the girl a once over, wanting to mention what happened earlier with her eyes when she figured she should go check on Cel. He was her friend after all and he seemed to be struggling with something physically. She pointed to the door, "I'm just gonna go check on long locks. Want to keep an eye out for a few minutes." At Xael's response she smiled walking towards the hallway connecting the cockpit to the weapons station, "Cel? You all..CEL?" She looked over to see Cel with thick black hair and a gold alien-like shimmering just near him. She pulled out one of her guns and narrowed her eyes, "GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HIM JACKASS! You don't know me but I can promise you I am one hell of a good shot. So unless you want one between the eyes. I suggest to you. STEP. BACK." She was deadly serious, and the creature seemed to take her warning honestly before it leaned down slowly towards Cel. She prepared to shoot it as it prepared to strike her but instead it began to fuse into Cels form. She watched in silence before it disappeared inside her friend, "What the f.." As soon as it was gone she re-sheathed her weapon and ran to Cel falling to her knees as she rolled him onto his back pushing his hair out of his face, and leaning his head back so she could feel for a breath, "You better not be dead...you little. Oh, thank Cthulu." She put her ear to his chest, sighing when she heard a heartbeat. She sat up resting a hand on her knee as she looked over him, leaning down to tap his cheek, "Cel?? Handsome?? If you wake up now I'll show ya my jugs??" Cel would probably be over the moon for that or at least disturbed by her use of the word jugs, but he didn't seem to hear her, meaning he was completely out of it. She pulled off Orion's jacket and placed it under his head as she stood up moving back towards the cockpit. She called out to Xael, "Hey Xael? Uh.. Cel is passed out in the hallway, and I think, mind you not being dead sober, that a gold alien being just was vacuumed into his body. Do you have a med bay or can you help him? I'm worried.." She motioned the girl over, looking down at Cel as she placed her head on his forehead to feel his temperature, "He feels cold, but that may be because of the temperature." She didn't lie to Xael she was worried. She didn't love Cel like a brother, but as criminal relationships go, they had a solid one. She didn't want to see him hurt. She looked over at Xael, "I'm gonna go let Orion know what's happened. Just in case we have another stowaway hiding on here. Can you stay with him? Okay..I'll be right back." She headed down the hallway, unsure where to go when she heard some music. She followed it, pausing as the voice of a woman could be heard inside. She was about to interrupt when she realized it was a recording. She waited until the second song played before she came in, walking over to find Orion about to fall asleep, "Yo...Sexy pants. Sorry to ruin your sleep but Cel just fell unconscious and an alien-looking motherfucker just leeched into him. I don't know if there are more of them on this ship, but I figured I should tell you. Xael's with him now but I don't know if she has any med skills?"</s>	<\|message\|>Xael [Zay-Uhl] Niahm [Knee-Am] "Sure I'll keep an eye. He's probably just being dramatic about that his hair is turning black or something..." Xael smiled to herself slightly, relaxing once the ship seemed to shift to autopilot and also began to warm up. The warmth was comforting despite she didn't really need it for survival. She reached down, her long slender fingers unbuckling the harness which was holding her into her seat. Her eyes flashed across the dash, ensuring the artificial gravity was activated as well. Once she felt everything was fine, she leaned back slightly, watching the galaxies around them as the ship made it's way to Orion's ship likewise. It seemed like only a few seconds had passed before Ursa was called for Xael to come see Cel, stating he was passed out in the hall. Xael's brow furrowed and she got up, and continued toward Ursa as she kept speaking. She had said she thought a weird golden alien had been vacuumed into Cel's body. Xael's eyes shifted to a slight sideways glance, feeling confused and unsure about what Ursa was really talking about. "I'm not sure what you mean by a golden alien? Like... someone else was here? Or was it just... like... a fuzzy image? Could you have imagined it?" She waited for Ursa to respond, and when she did, Xael chewed her lower lip. After a few moments of Xael looking at Cel passed out, Ursa said she was going to tell Orion, and got up to leave. This left Xael and Cel alone, despite his unconscious state. She knelt down next to him and leaned in, listening to breathing. She assumed though by how Ursa was reacting, that he was alive. Warm breath caressed her cheek so she leaned back up again to look him over. Nothing seemed to be wrong on his body. No injured she could see flat out, he looked a bit pale, but was regardless of trauma or not. Again, her brow furrowed together. She figured she would try to wake him up again while she waited for Ursa to come back. "Cel...?" She said gently, reaching out to grip both of his arms just below to the shoulder, and shook him carefully. "There's something we need to talk to you about. You should probably open your eyes..." While waiting for him to give any type of response, Xael stood up and shifted toward a wall of cabinets a few feet away. She opened up a tall skinny one, pulling out a heating blanket and some cleansed water. She shut the cabinet door and returned to kneel next to him. First, she propped him up carefully against the wall into a seated position, put the blanket over top of him, and then opened up the water. With the water cylinder open, she poured some into the palm of her hand and wet Cel's face slightly. She then leaned back on her heels and watched him again.</s>
<\|description\|>Xael [Zay-Uhl] Niahm [Knee-Am] Age: Appears 22 Race: Appears human Home Planet: Theonia Z17, Galaxy Theon Skills: To be roleplayed Hobbies: People watching, dancing in the rain, going to plays/operas. Job: To be roleplayed Rank: N/A Likes: Fall, rain and thunderstorms, blue and silver, animals, coffee and wine. Dislikes: Tbr Appearance: Other: Backstory: To be roleplayed</s> <\|message\|>Orion Steiner Ursa walked in on Orion attempting to digest the information he was able to pull from ACE. He had been figuring a way to describe exactly what they saw and it's potential. He saw Ursa in the entryway backLit by the white light from the corridor still with his bomber jacket On. He would have to get that back. She described a situation that had developed with Cel. "ACE, stay here and keep running scenarios. I'll be back." Directed Orion. He got up and walked out of the bay led by Ursa. Orion heard Cel comment about a "Golden Experience" thinking how weird those Yakuza really were. First R.Kelly and now this guys into being urinated on? They walked by the medbay noticing Xael and Cel And backtracked inside. He directed his gaze to Cel who seemed to be in a delirious state. "Maybe a sedative is in order? Is this a result of the gravity loss from back at Phobos?" Commented Orion. He looked at his chronograph "We shouldn't be far Now from my dropship. On-board I have some advanced medtech that could make sense out of him." Orion shifted his gaze eyeing his jackets inner pocket That Ursa was wearing and said to her. "If the ships temps are to your liking I can take that back if you don't need it anymore." Trying to be as polite as he could be.</s> <\|message\|>Ursa Cooper Ursa took out one of her pistols moving through the ship along with Orion cautiously just in case another of those creatures were on board. When they reached the hallway Ursa let out a sigh, thankful to see Cel up and talking. She placed her pistol back in its holster and crossed her arms, about to comment on Cel's last words when Orion turned to Ursa implying that he desired his jacket back. She smiled almost too sweetly, pulling it off her shoulders as she handed it to him, "Of course. I feel much better. Thanks for letting me use it." As he reached to take it, she pulled it away slightly watching him extremely carefully before she released it to him, noting his slight insistence. Interesting. She had already snooped in the pockets, making note of each of the items inside, but not removing them. She then turned to Cel and placed her hands on her hips, "Now you! What the hell happened Cel? I found you passed out on the floor and the golden alien your talking about just above you. I almost shot it before it entered your body!" She held out a hand to Xael, hoping to help her up as she waited for Cel to respond. Cel watched as Ursa and Orion walked into the room. "Ursa… Sorry I don't know what happened. I was telling Xeal here about what I just experienced. I still don't really understand it." Cel did his best to recap what had just happened to him. Saying everything out loud though made everything seem like a fever dream. The fuck was Golden Experience? He looked at Orion who seemed to give him a strange look. "Look, I'm not talking about some sexual bullshit if that's what you're thinking." He gave Orion a dirty look. "Anyways. I don't know if that makes any sense but, that's all I remember." Ursa tried to stifle a laugh as he talked about the Golden Experience, imagining exactly what he didn't want them to see, before speaking, "Well..I've never heard of a creature that is capable of performing such a feat, but it seems as though this creature doesn't wish to harm you which is a good sign. Although it did knock you out and changed your hair." She placed her hands on her hips, "And this is the first time you've ever seen this thing?" At the mention of his hair, Cel ran his hands through and looked at what he was able to see. Most of it was black at this point, but he could see that it started to fade back into blond. Everything was so confusing right now and nothing made sense. He could see Ursa trying to not laugh and it looked like the others were holding back a giggle as well. This started to piss him off. Cel stood up then walked to the other side of the room. "If you're not going to believe me then maybe I can show you." He grumbled then took a deep breath. "Golden Experience!" He yelled and stuck a pose. The golden like figure fazed right in front of Cel and posed just like Cel did. "Holy fuck it worked!" Cel took a step back. "Can all Yakuza do this or is it just me?" He thought to himself. Ursa jumped back as the creature came out, also slightly surprised that it worked, "What the hell! That thing is freaky Cel! Are you sure it won't hurt you?" She kept her hand poised at her hip, preparing to shoot the creature if need be. Cel watched as Ursa placed her hand on her hip. "I have no idea if it'll hurt me or not but, it might hurt you so you might not want to pull that out." Cel motioned to her hip then got out of his pose. With that, the stand disappeared back into him. "Look all I know is shit's weird and someone owes me some jugs. Normally I don't care about that but, right now, I feel it's okay for me to ask that. Ursa brought her hands away from her gun, waving them slightly to imply that she was being friendly. Her expression dropped as she raised an eyebrow, "You better be careful, having a parasite like that attached to you. I don't know where he came from, but we don't necessarily have the time to deal with it, after what just happened. Also, try not to die! If the head of the Yakuza dies on my watch, my rep is blown." At his mention of her boobs, she shrugged, pulling up her shirt quickly to give him a quick glance before she laughed, "Not that special really. Keep it for your spank bank bud, cause you ain't ever getting to see em again." She walked up smacking him on the shoulder before she winked at Xael, "I better get back to watching out for pirates. Once we get to your ship Orion, I have to call my crew. They probably think I'm long dead now." She pointed for Cel to follow her, "I need a minute with him alone first. Sorry guys. Just a quick business meeting." As she headed back into the cockpit she turned to Cel with a serious expression, "Now that it's just the two of us. What do you make of them? The girl seems innocent enough but I find it's suspicious that the general there knew that ship's build and just happened to be on Phobos. His story makes sense but honestly, Phobos being targeted is ridiculous. Other than the Yakuza and the Draconians, the place was a shithole." She rubbed her eyes and looked back out at window, "Also..are you okay? I didn't lose anybody on that rock, but I know a lot of your men just lost their lives out there. Good guys. I don't want to upset you, but that must be hard..." Cel walked with Ursa back to the cockpit and listened to what she had to say. "Yeah, I don't really trust that Orion guy but then again I only just met him. I want to trust Xael, but again we just met her and in a very strange way. Back to Orion though I think he is hiding way more than he is letting on and until I can get all the info out of him, I will never trust him." He thought for a bit after she brought up Phobos. It was strange that Phobos was targeted for an attack like that. All that was really on Phobos was an abundance of criminals and then also a hub for trades. "I want to know more about the ship that attacked us. Maybe then we will learn about what the hell happened. I do still think that Orion has more to tell us but then again he probably wont say anything to us. We need to gain his trust." This was the first time he thought about the rest of his group since the explosion. He did lose a lot of good men but he didn't really want to think about it. "I'll be okay. I don't know who all lived or died but all I can hope is that someone made it to my ship and lived. Let's just finish this mission." He held back a tear then walked off to see how the others were doing. Ursa nodded quietly, "I'm glad we are on the same page about Orion. Keep an eye out and if you learn anything let me know. I'd rather have someone scratching my back out there if ya know what I mean. Same goes for Xael, there is something about her thats different. I can feel it." She watched as his expression changed at her comment and felt for the guy. She didn't want to be the one to remind him of his loss but he needed to face the possibility now before they were on Orion's turf. He needed to keep his head in the game, so to speak. She gave him a quick nod, "Alright. If you need to talk about it. I'll listen man." She watched as he headed back to the others, making sure he was gone before she turned back to the control panel. She hit her vid-com trying to see if she could get a signal, knowing full well it was impossible. She slumped in her seat after the dial tone disappeared, digging her hands in her hair. She began to think, about her predicament and how she would be able to stay on top of this disaster, watching for pirates lurking behind the stars.</s>	<\|message\|>Xael [Zay-Uhl] Niahm [Knee-Am] Xael watched as Cel came to and Ursa and Orion arrived shortly after. She listened as Cel began to explain what it was was going on, or at least what he thought he was. Ursa seemed to have seen the weird being too, and Xael's eyebrows furrowed together, not quite understanding. Xael looked up and saw Ursa holding her hand out to her, and she grabbed it to stand up. Once she was up, Cel began to make some weird pose, and the golden being shot out from his body, mimicking his stance. Xael gasped slightly, taking a step back until she bumped into the wall behind her. "That's... something," she said, slightly confused. "Well, your hair is going back to normal anyway..." Xael took a close look at Cel's face for a moment, then looked away as Ursa dismissed herself to speak with Cel. Xael turned then to Orion, looking at him quietly for a moment. "When will we be arriving at your ship? We should be almost there, shouldn't we?"</s>
<\|description\|>Maggie Rogers Nickname(s)/Alias(es): Mags, Magsie, or Magster. She was called Sugie ("shoo-gē") at early childhood, much like her brother's nickname, but now refuses to be called this, as it seems to vex her. Gender: Female. Hair Color: "Sun-Kissed" Brown. Eye Color: Hazel. Sexuality: Bi-curious Lesbian Occupation(s): Part-Time Waitress; Part-Time Daycare Helper; Amateur Sleuth. Affiliation: Mystery Inc. Family: - Samuel Chastain-Rogers (father) - Wendy Rogers (mother) - Norville "Shaggy" Rogers (brother) - Gaggy Rogers (uncle) - Albert Shaggleford (uncle) - Salty Rogers (uncle) - Henry Rogers (uncle) - Tawny Rogers (cousin) - Jamison Willikers (cousin) - Stetson Rogers (cousin) - Betty-Lou (cousin) - McBaggy Rogers (ancestor) - Jack "Dapper" Rogers (ancestor) Personality: Maggie is the third-only person in Shaggy's life, to possess similar traits: Though somewhat of an airhead, she's a good soul, whose kindness, patience, and remarkable tolerance allows her to deal with chaos, whilst having to seek out the positive parts of an issue; a dominant trait, inherited from their mother. The opposite to her brother's cowardly, laid-back personality, Maggie is energetic, courageous and, strangely, mature (since her air headedness doesn't seem to make up for it, at all). Since birth, she and her older brother are very close, with Shaggy describing her as 'his favorite human person in the whole world'. While they are very different, and have their moments on deciding an activity, or a course of action, they will both enjoy, or agree upon, Maggie is aware of his likes, dislikes, and restrictions, therefore she always takes them to consideration. However, when it really comes down to it, sometimes, her seriousness doesn't help. They definitely share a chemistry in culinary arts, either with the goal of becoming restaurant hosts, or general chefs; according to them: "She's the proud cooker, while he's the proud eater". This shared love is expressed whenever she surprises Shaggy with his favorite, bizarre food choices, albeit she would politely refuse to eat them herself. Skills & Abilities: - Handling Children (especially those who act like them). - Talented Cook. - Great Resourcefulness. - Athleticism (Running, Jumping, etc.). Portrayed By: Jennifer Garner (adult)</s> <\|message\|>Maggie Rogers Broken? Broken. Well, it's not like it happens every day, but once tensions increase, it does take a drastic turn. Egos, competition, and drama. Maggie saw it coming, but this time, she didn't. Mystery Inc., a team of amateur sleuths, investigating supernatural and paranormal phenomena, has been broken up. Again. Fred with his ego, Daphne with her drama, and Velma with her self-esteem; it was a clash that drove them apart from time-to-time. Her brother Norville tried to patch and brighten things up, but as a result, it seemed to have unintentionally gotten worse. It has been two years since the case of the Luna Ghost, and they've gone their separate ways. She, Scooby, and Shaggy tried to make the best of it: Spice up the Mystery Machine, take trips to the beach, make barbecues; "another day in paradise", as her brother would call it. But it still wasn't the same. They used to do this, all the time with the rest of the gang. But by themselves? Their absence was becoming difficult to adjust. Not to mention that Dianna, Fae, and Maggie were close friends, bringing another layer of loneliness upon the female Rogers. These days, she would often force a smile in Shaggy's direction, or give a bright idea to distract themselves, but the heart, surrounding their tight band of friends has been ripped in half. It truly hasn't been very fulfilling these past two years. They didn't think they would ever see each other again, but having to suddenly receive a request from Emile Mondavarious, there was an opportunity to get away from the grief. As usual, Shaggy would reject the idea at first, but once an "All-You-Can-Eat" buffet was mentioned, a "what the heck, why not?" came, right after. Plus, Maggie really wanted to get away from their hometown; the same place where there were lots of beautiful memories regarding their "once-friends". The drive to the airport wasn't long, and finding the gate was easy: Just spot a displayed poster that says "Come Visit Spooky Island". And, what no better way than to run into the rest of the gang once you get there? Fred was there, as well as Velma, but no sign of Daphne. However, seven purple bags towered on a cart, which became too obvious; by the reception desk, a familiar red-head complaining about the rule of having no more than two carry-on bags. "What do I can't have seven carry-on bags? That is so economy!"</s> <\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. After everything sort of... exploded; Fae was kind of, left alone. She never vocalized her sadness of it all, she just kept her head down and continued on her work. It was easier to ignore this way, just put your head down in the office and focus mainly on whatever you were tinkering on or what code you were making. After the massive falling out, she was reluctant to hang out with her cousin, but... She was the closest family at this point, so much that Fae even took the small amount of stuff she had with her and moved in with Daphne. Fae often kept to herself even when they were living together, she got her own room and due to Maggie and Dianna never contacted her anymore she just sort of... stayed there. Daphne would often pull her out and around, and she simply allowed it. There was no use arguing with her cousin, she got dramatic when things didn't go her way. --- Dianna's love of life sort of fizzled out when the group split, she spent the first month just staying in her room by herself. She often forgot to eat or drink, which caused her to get sick and very thin to the point where she was sent to stay with Velma due to it. Velma helped Dianna get at least a bit happier again, but she wasn't as energetic as she used to be. They started to take more trips to the museum to see the new things that popped up, which easily helped her mood- especially the dinosaurs. She stopped making so many costumes after things went south for the Mystery Inc; she took leave from her work, which she was allowed. She had enough holiday leave to just have a couple months off, that and she was close to her boss- who understood what was happening. Things were... happening at least. --- As Daphne complained about her carry-on bags, Fae wanted to sink into the ground and disappear. "Look," She said turning to her cousin, "I don't have any carry-on bags, can I take two of hers?" She asked as she looked to the receptionist. She turned back towards Daphne before she furrowed her brow, "Daph, just... Focus on the trip okay? I'm sure we can get these into the luggage bay, you don't really need everything on the trolley right?" She asked with a raised eyebrow. Fae wore a loose fitting Jurassic Park tee that was given to her by Dianna after a marathon that the girls had done; a massively fond memory that she would never forget about. Even if she would never see them, she would at least have a few things to remember them by. She gave a bit of a yawn as she waited for Daph to stop complaining about the carry-on; she was woken up pretty early to leave. She wasn't a fan of being up at the moment, she wanted to be back home tinkering with things but she looked forward for the island. Dianna looked over towards the large tower of bags and she felt her stomach sink. She looked over to Velma with a worried look to check if she had noticed the tower as well. She looked around more, she swore she had seen Fred walking around too, but she didn't trust her eyesight. Maybe she was just missing them more than ever? Who knows. She just wanted her friends back.</s> <\|message\|>Maggie Rogers Having to come from a wealthy family, Daphne was pretty straightforward on the concept of being prepared; in this case, fashion-wise. Having her cousin (and closest friend) along for the ride, she felt that Fae should really be thanking her, considering that this was the perfect getaway for the both of them, and that her stuff was in, at least, two of the bags. The red-head looked at her, after leaning against the receptionist desk, and rolled her eyes, behind her sunglasses. Before she could say anything else, she spotted Velma, standing with Dianna, and immediately expressed disbelief. What is this? Why are they here? She tipped her sunglasses down a little and, as if eyes were felt, the nerd returned her stare. "Velma?", a voice called, appearing in the distance of them. "Fred?", she answered, feeling a bit awkward and confused. Velma looked back at Daphne, who pretended to mind her own business, and didn't just see her former colleague. Right place, wrong time? "Daph?", he called out, showing confusion as well. Having to get over her state, said-red head straightened up at the desk with Fae. "I'm not talking to you guys", she told them, having to make a zipping motion over her mouth, and throw away 'the key'. However, no matter how much she tries to ignore them, Daphne couldn't hold back a demand for an explanation. "What the heck are you doing here?", said-demand came. "Isn't it obvious? We all got the same invite by Emile Mondavarious, the reclusive owner of Spooky Island", Velma answered, although it clearly was something that the rich heiress did not want to hear, judging by how she pouted. "That's not fair!", she complained, stomping her pink-heeled boot on the ground, frowning. "We were gonna solve a mystery by ourselves for the first time ever!" Fred was more amused than agreeable. "How are you gonna solve it yourselves after you get caught?", he asked, wondering what her plan was gonna be, if her danger-prone tendencies got in the way. Daphne put her hands on her hips, straightening up. "I'm a black belt now. I've now transformed my body into a dangerous weapon", she was serious, but like every time, it was taken as a joke by the gang. Fred and Velma chuckled in amusement at her determination. "What? It's true", Daphne insisted, holding onto her pride. "Not to mention that I taught Bella a few things too". "What is this?", another voice commented aloud, in the distance, almost delighted to see the gang back together again, though seemingly. The three of them heard the voice of Shaggy's little sister, and had their attention towards her, as she approached them with a grin; Shaggy following behind. "Looks like we're all going to Spooky Island, man!", he said, having to surprisingly give off a rather happy disposition, even though he was about ready to have a panic attack a few hours earlier. Amazing how much of mentioning a simple food buffet would brighten his spirits!</s> <\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Fae winced when Daphne called her by her first name, uttering out a quiet "It's... Fae." She uttered as she looked at the ground. She hesitated before looking up to everyone else with a weak smile, leaning against the Bags slightly with a sigh. She watched Daphne, Fred and Velma all talk, avoiding a glance towards Dianna- as she did the same. Her head shot up as she heard the voice of the female Rogers, her eyes widened with happiness as she tried to hide it; although by the sudden smile on her face was a massive give away. "Is there something wrong with working in numbers anyway?" Dianna finally piped up as she glanced between the original team of Mystery Inc, finishing her look towards Daphne, "I know things went south, we all know." She continued before she closed her eyes and moved to grip the bridge of her nose, "I feel like we should just... Try and put the past behind us and enjoy this trip." She opened her eyes as she looked between Fae and Maggie. "For the good of old times, for the good of friendship." Fae nodded slightly at Dianna's words, her eyes moving towards Maggie before she watched her and Shaggy. She hesitated before she mouthed 'Where's Scoob?', hoping she could see the words completely. She stayed quiet as everyone else talked, she didn't want to butt in, she just wanted their friendships to be mended, as if it was that easy.</s>	<\|message\|>Maggie Rogers "Where's Scoob?", Fred asked them. "Aloha!", as if on cue, the talking dog himself was seen clumsily walking towards the gate in what seems to be a woman's outfit, with a hat and heels, causing quite an amount of attention from the crowd. "They won't allow big dogs on the plane", Shaggy explained. "So, we came up with this", his sister added, with an embarrassed smile. "Clearly, not my best work", this was Shaggy's idea, and all Maggie could do was look away in embarrassment at the scene, though was chuckling on the inside. By the time the talking, disguised dog made his way over, Maggie continued to smile, not having to gather the tension in the air between the three former team members. Once she caught sight of her close friends, she made up by giving a hug to Dianna, before making her way over to Fae. She thought that it would be pleasant, considering that everyone was together in one place, but it was only when she looked at their faces that she managed to recognize the awkwardness and unease, which caused her to eventually frown. Being somewhat of an airhead had its perks: The female Rogers had the tendency to get very carried away with the things and people she enjoyed, to the point where she does not seem to read non-verbal cues. However, give her a second of two, and she'll catch up. "Listen", Velma piped up. "I wouldn't have agreed to come if I knew you were", she said, a croak in her voice, causing Fred and Daph to glance at the ground, already thinking about abandoning the invite, and pretend they never saw each other. Maggie wanted to console the bespectacled young woman, but that was until Dianna decided to speak. "Yeah", Shaggy agreed to the young woman's words. "Think about it for one minute: Mystery Inc reunites. We'll be a team again, just like the old days", he said, hoping that it would help mend some of the tension. The three seemed to be thinking it over, glancing to the ground, but still avoiding to look at each other. That was when the receptionist called for those boarding to Spooky Island. "I'm only in, if they are", Daphne said, not having to feel content on working with her former colleagues. It was at that point, that Fred rolled his eyes, and walked to the entrance of the gate, with Velma reluctantly following after. The red-head moved next, after putting her sunglasses back on. "Come on, Fae"</s>
<\|description\|>Maggie Rogers Nickname(s)/Alias(es): Mags, Magsie, or Magster. She was called Sugie ("shoo-gē") at early childhood, much like her brother's nickname, but now refuses to be called this, as it seems to vex her. Gender: Female. Hair Color: "Sun-Kissed" Brown. Eye Color: Hazel. Sexuality: Bi-curious Lesbian Occupation(s): Part-Time Waitress; Part-Time Daycare Helper; Amateur Sleuth. Affiliation: Mystery Inc. Family: - Samuel Chastain-Rogers (father) - Wendy Rogers (mother) - Norville "Shaggy" Rogers (brother) - Gaggy Rogers (uncle) - Albert Shaggleford (uncle) - Salty Rogers (uncle) - Henry Rogers (uncle) - Tawny Rogers (cousin) - Jamison Willikers (cousin) - Stetson Rogers (cousin) - Betty-Lou (cousin) - McBaggy Rogers (ancestor) - Jack "Dapper" Rogers (ancestor) Personality: Maggie is the third-only person in Shaggy's life, to possess similar traits: Though somewhat of an airhead, she's a good soul, whose kindness, patience, and remarkable tolerance allows her to deal with chaos, whilst having to seek out the positive parts of an issue; a dominant trait, inherited from their mother. The opposite to her brother's cowardly, laid-back personality, Maggie is energetic, courageous and, strangely, mature (since her air headedness doesn't seem to make up for it, at all). Since birth, she and her older brother are very close, with Shaggy describing her as 'his favorite human person in the whole world'. While they are very different, and have their moments on deciding an activity, or a course of action, they will both enjoy, or agree upon, Maggie is aware of his likes, dislikes, and restrictions, therefore she always takes them to consideration. However, when it really comes down to it, sometimes, her seriousness doesn't help. They definitely share a chemistry in culinary arts, either with the goal of becoming restaurant hosts, or general chefs; according to them: "She's the proud cooker, while he's the proud eater". This shared love is expressed whenever she surprises Shaggy with his favorite, bizarre food choices, albeit she would politely refuse to eat them herself. Skills & Abilities: - Handling Children (especially those who act like them). - Talented Cook. - Great Resourcefulness. - Athleticism (Running, Jumping, etc.). Portrayed By: Jennifer Garner (adult)</s> <\|message\|>Maggie Rogers "Where's Scoob?", Fred asked them. "Aloha!", as if on cue, the talking dog himself was seen clumsily walking towards the gate in what seems to be a woman's outfit, with a hat and heels, causing quite an amount of attention from the crowd. "They won't allow big dogs on the plane", Shaggy explained. "So, we came up with this", his sister added, with an embarrassed smile. "Clearly, not my best work", this was Shaggy's idea, and all Maggie could do was look away in embarrassment at the scene, though was chuckling on the inside. By the time the talking, disguised dog made his way over, Maggie continued to smile, not having to gather the tension in the air between the three former team members. Once she caught sight of her close friends, she made up by giving a hug to Dianna, before making her way over to Fae. She thought that it would be pleasant, considering that everyone was together in one place, but it was only when she looked at their faces that she managed to recognize the awkwardness and unease, which caused her to eventually frown. Being somewhat of an airhead had its perks: The female Rogers had the tendency to get very carried away with the things and people she enjoyed, to the point where she does not seem to read non-verbal cues. However, give her a second of two, and she'll catch up. "Listen", Velma piped up. "I wouldn't have agreed to come if I knew you were", she said, a croak in her voice, causing Fred and Daph to glance at the ground, already thinking about abandoning the invite, and pretend they never saw each other. Maggie wanted to console the bespectacled young woman, but that was until Dianna decided to speak. "Yeah", Shaggy agreed to the young woman's words. "Think about it for one minute: Mystery Inc reunites. We'll be a team again, just like the old days", he said, hoping that it would help mend some of the tension. The three seemed to be thinking it over, glancing to the ground, but still avoiding to look at each other. That was when the receptionist called for those boarding to Spooky Island. "I'm only in, if they are", Daphne said, not having to feel content on working with her former colleagues. It was at that point, that Fred rolled his eyes, and walked to the entrance of the gate, with Velma reluctantly following after. The red-head moved next, after putting her sunglasses back on. "Come on, Fae"</s> <\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. At the sight of Scooby, Dianna only let out a small chuckle at the costume. Sure, it wasn't the best, but it was at least a decent effort! "Honestly," she started as she looked towards Scooby and Shaggy, "It's not terrible, I'm proud of you guys." She continued before she looked towards Maggie as she came to hug her, Dianna gave a gentle hug to her before she watched her head over towards Fae. Fae was frozen on the spot for a moment as Maggie got close to her, when she wrapped her arms around her Fae failed to hold back her emotions as she pulled Maggie into a big hug and leaned her forehead against Maggie's head. She had missed this, she had been so alone this entire time. Sure she had Daphne but Daphne wasn't one to talk to her about the stuff the others would; Maggie loved to talk about food, and would listen when she rambled about her mechanic work or coding details, and she and Dianna easily debated either or not they could make a fully articulate monster with the abilities of all three of them. Fae let go of Maggie as everyone started talking again, before everyone slowly just... moved along. Dianna followed after Velma quickly, watching her cousin before she moved to grip her arm gently. "Everything will be okay." She whispered to Velma with a small smile. Fae looked over to Daphne as she told her to follow her. She nodded once as she started to follow, moving to pull the baggage cart along behind her. She sighed to herself, she had a feeling that Daphne would be holding her back from seeing her old friends... The only people she had ever been close to. She moved to fix her shirt awkwardly before she fixed over her sidebag with all of her gadget tools and her current smaller project.</s> <\|message\|>Maggie Rogers Velma has always been the most-emotional, so she was actually very glad and grateful that she had someone like Dianna. Probably her closest relative, aside from her own parents, she could always entrust the other like a sister, even though they didn't live in the same house, growing up. However, they always found time to talk on the phone, and bond. From them on, since childhood, they've been sticking to each other by the hip, sharing a multitude of intellectual interests...although Dianna was the most-artistic, out of the two. Giving her cousin a sad smile, she took a deep breath, and proceeded on boarding. Scooby whimpered, as Maggie looked at the ground, having to feel slightly disappointed and saddened, that she couldn't enjoy the moment any longer, before heading onto another grand adventure. However, instead of a heartfelt reunion, it remained the same, since they broke up, two years ago - distant, shallow, and "shoulder-chipped", as if they were complete strangers, all over again...before they met in high school. Shaggy walked next to her, and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, and brought her in to comfort her, by the time they and the dog eventually followed. In the plane, due to the rows having only three seats, most of the gang had to be split up in various directions, although they were all close to one another, and not far away; therefore, it was a packed flight. Internally, they were all pretty glad they didn't have to talk to each other the entire flight. Maggie was seated with Fae and Dianna in one row, in front of Fred and Velma, and next to the row that had contained Shaggy and Scooby. It was complicated to sort out, but it was easy to find everyone, considering that they were all near each other. Reading a book - a cookbook, apparently - that she managed to grab from one of the stores in the airport, Maggie managed to keep her eyes on the pages, despite the loud noise, although she did take occasional glances at Shaggy, who seemed to be talking to a pretty blonde girl, next to him. With her hand still up, in order for the guy in the next seat to get out of her line of sight, Daphne kept her eyes on a magazine, completely ignoring the dude trying to hit on her. It felt good to sit with her close friends, despite the awkwardness - so she decided to break the ice. "So, how are you both doing? Taking it okay?"</s> <\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Dianna smiled back to Velma and continued onto the plane, putting her stuff into the appropriate places before she sat down at the end of the aisle before she noticed that Fae and Maggie would be sitting by her. She held her breath for a moment as she watched them, pulling out a small sketchbook to put on her lap to sketch in, in case the others don't want to talk. Fae let Daphne and the Roger siblings on before her, smiling to the air hostess as she got on and headed to her seat, allowing Maggie to go into the middle of them. She sat down after she put her bags away as well before she sat down at the end, giving a small wave towards Scooby as he sat with Shaggy. Fae almost jumped as Maggie broke the ice to speak, she let out a squeak before she let out a small laugh. Dianna gave a small chuckle as well as she shook her head. "It's been terrible." Dianna started, looking towards Maggie, and then Fae. "I mean, I've been helping Velma as much as I can, taking her out places to keep her mind off things but it doesn't help my mind." She continued as she moved to grip the bridge of her nose. "After it all happened I sort of just... Shut down, I got incredibly depressive, things got... Terrible for me." She admitted before she feigned a small smile, something that she was known for. Fae stopped laughing before she looked into her lap weakly, "I... Know that feeling." She said as her right hand instinctively moved to rub her left wrist, which was adorned with a small cloth bracelet, that covered the majority of her wrist. "It's been... Lonely." She started as well, not looking up from her lap, "Daph took me in, she took care of me. But... nothing just felt right. I never had any other friends, I had co-workers, but I disliked talking about work stuff outside of work." Fae glanced to Maggie with a tilt of her head, "I see you're still the cook you always have been?" She asked with a bit of a grin, trying to brighten the air around them.</s>	<\|message\|>Maggie Rogers Maggie, admittedly, did not expect herself to be sitting in between two of her most closest friends. It was a rather surprising thing to find herself in, but she wasn't one to complain about such things. Usually, with complete strangers, she would keep to herself, and let time fly, but...in this case, these two individuals were, like, sisters to her. As of right now, she was listening to their confessions, having to show empathy in her eyes, as she always does. However, she frowned slightly when Dianna pulled off that smile; the same one that would conceal what she was really feeling. Her words were not matching her eyes. She was no expert in Dianna's field, but the female Rogers could tell that, despite the smile, there was a different kind of emotion in the other's eyes; the same kind that Fae was expressing profoundly. They missed the presence of those who accepted them for who they were, and built a solid relationship with. The breakup only discouraged the comfort that they once had, creating an emotional rift in the heart, and ripping it in two. To reciprocate these feelings (and show she wasn't being fooled), Maggie placed a comforting hand upon her arm, before trailing it up to wrap it around her shoulders, so Dianna could lean against her. Rogers just couldn't stand the fact that the ones she deeply cared for, were feeling this way. It seemed that while Dianna was trying, as much as she can, to help her cousin, she wasn't taking the time to take care of herself. Having to be aware of preference, interest, and priority, Maggie respected their paths in life, but then, their own well-being had to be looked after, and she felt it to be right to step in. Looking over at the other girl, having to give her a small smile, and a chuckle. "You should see me. Been working on a new recipe; one of our grandmother's favorites", she said. "Haven't found the time to cook it, but maybe after this trip, you are more than welcome to try it", she grinned, leaving her cookbook in her lap, as she brought over a hand to move a piece of hair out of Fae's face. Hearing a barking sound, she turned to find Scooby barking at a cat that was near him, shortly until the creature made a run for it, causing the talking dog to compulsively give chase. "Sit grandma! Bad grandma! Don't eat the kitty!", Shaggy shouted, causing Maggie to cover her eyes, and groan. This was going to be a long flight, but after a few hours, the plane finally landed. After arriving at the airport, Maggie placed her book back in the bag she stored above her. Apart from Scooby, having to nearly give himself away, she took the time to give comfort to Dianna and Fae, having to tell them stories of her and Norville's endeavors these past two years; at the same time, also admitting her own feelings of loneliness to them. It wasn't the same without them, since their time of bonding seemed to make it look like they knew each forever. However, whether if it became something more, she couldn't really say, even though all three of them shared an interest, and/or felt comfort, around women. Although Maggie has been experimenting with the opposite gender these past few months. Wherever their hearts were, Rogers kept it to herself, and will support them, no matter what. Having to board a ferry, which would take them to the actual resort, Maggie felt the need to side with her companions during the entire journey, while at the same time, she smelled something fishy - not literally. Why invite all of them?</s>
<\|description\|>Maggie Rogers Nickname(s)/Alias(es): Mags, Magsie, or Magster. She was called Sugie ("shoo-gē") at early childhood, much like her brother's nickname, but now refuses to be called this, as it seems to vex her. Gender: Female. Hair Color: "Sun-Kissed" Brown. Eye Color: Hazel. Sexuality: Bi-curious Lesbian Occupation(s): Part-Time Waitress; Part-Time Daycare Helper; Amateur Sleuth. Affiliation: Mystery Inc. Family: - Samuel Chastain-Rogers (father) - Wendy Rogers (mother) - Norville "Shaggy" Rogers (brother) - Gaggy Rogers (uncle) - Albert Shaggleford (uncle) - Salty Rogers (uncle) - Henry Rogers (uncle) - Tawny Rogers (cousin) - Jamison Willikers (cousin) - Stetson Rogers (cousin) - Betty-Lou (cousin) - McBaggy Rogers (ancestor) - Jack "Dapper" Rogers (ancestor) Personality: Maggie is the third-only person in Shaggy's life, to possess similar traits: Though somewhat of an airhead, she's a good soul, whose kindness, patience, and remarkable tolerance allows her to deal with chaos, whilst having to seek out the positive parts of an issue; a dominant trait, inherited from their mother. The opposite to her brother's cowardly, laid-back personality, Maggie is energetic, courageous and, strangely, mature (since her air headedness doesn't seem to make up for it, at all). Since birth, she and her older brother are very close, with Shaggy describing her as 'his favorite human person in the whole world'. While they are very different, and have their moments on deciding an activity, or a course of action, they will both enjoy, or agree upon, Maggie is aware of his likes, dislikes, and restrictions, therefore she always takes them to consideration. However, when it really comes down to it, sometimes, her seriousness doesn't help. They definitely share a chemistry in culinary arts, either with the goal of becoming restaurant hosts, or general chefs; according to them: "She's the proud cooker, while he's the proud eater". This shared love is expressed whenever she surprises Shaggy with his favorite, bizarre food choices, albeit she would politely refuse to eat them herself. Skills & Abilities: - Handling Children (especially those who act like them). - Talented Cook. - Great Resourcefulness. - Athleticism (Running, Jumping, etc.). Portrayed By: Jennifer Garner (adult)</s> <\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Dianna felt her cheeks flushed before she moved her head onto Maggie's shoulder, she let out a long gentle sigh as her body seemed to suddenly just relax in the female Rogers shoulder. She looked over towards Fae as she spoke before locking eyes with the bracelet around her hand; why was she wearing something like that? Fae had never been one for jewelry, especially any sort of bracelets. Dianna's eyes moved away as Maggie started to talk before she smiled. "I'd love to come over if you'd allow us over." She said with a small smile, "I'm guessing Shaggy isn't... being as strict as the cousins?" She asked, motioning with her eyes slowly to Velma and Daphne, "I mean, Velma has been... Okay, but she's been iffy on allowing me to contact you guys." Fae flinched when Maggie moved to brush a bit of hair out of her face, her face deepened red before she looked away slightly. She noticed herself fumbling with her small bracelet around her wrists; a small bit moved out of the way and revealed what looked to be a small scar. "I... Ended up breaking my old phone." She admitted, which is why she never contacted the other girls, "After everything, after Daph and I got home I kind of just... Blew up at her. We yelled, I cried, She cried... I then locked myself in the bedroom for..." She trailed off before she heard the barks from Scooby. Dianna couldn't help but smiling as she watched Scooby bark at a cat, "He never changes." She said softly, she watched everything unfold before she returned her eyes on Fae's wrist for a moment. As the plane landed and getting to the airport, Dianna glanced towards Velma with a small smile. She offered her cousin a thumbs up before she turned to Maggie and Fae with a bigger smile. She was over the moon to have her friends back in her life, she never expressed it to anyone, but she adored her friends to the point where she felt like it was something more then just friendship. Dianna remembered she had never really been in a proper relationship before, especially not with another woman. Unknown to the other two girls, Fae was feeling the same. She had some girlfriends in the past, but they never turned out into a long term relationship; even more so with her relationships with men. She never had a problem with men, especially since she was a tomboy; she used to be the 'guy' in her lesbian relationships, which she was fine with. The ferry ride made Fae a bit worried, which showed on her face. She had never really been on a boat for a while, she worried about getting seasick. She fiddled with her bracelet and her top more, before Dianna moved and grabbed her wrist gently. She lifted her hand up to her face and looked at the bracelet. Fae stared towards Dianna as she knew what she was trying to look at, before she pulled her hand away to point towards a bird flying across. "Look!" Fae called out with a bigger grin, the Seabird flew along near the boat.</s> <\|message\|>Maggie Rogers "Trust me, aside from all of being engulfed in my cooking, he actually felt, from time to time, that we should have company; to enjoy the meals I cook for everyone. It's been quite lonely as of late when we don't have anyone over", Rogers admitted sadly. "We figured that you guys were busy, so we feasted alone", she added. Then, the admittance came. They couldn't reach them, due to circumstance, as much as they wanted to. "I'm sorry", she said to them both, giving her condolences. Considering that Maggie was the tallest out of the three, she sat and stood between them for a majority of the trip, as she normally was, during their time together. It just seemed right, considering that Rogers felt the need to put most of her attention on them, especially after she learned that Fae and Dianna were in a rough place for a long time, since their separation. There was a lot of catching up to do, in regards to their relationship, and Maggie was sure that she was going to help them get back on their feet after falling. Unfortunately, Maggie was not an entirely observant person; one of her few flaws, so whatever Dianna was able to find out, she was completely unaware. Looking over the side of the ferry, leaning on the railing, on the other side of Fae, Maggie let the gentle breeze go through her hair. Spotting the bird, she smiled, shortly before she caught sight of what was ahead: A complete theme park, covering the entire island landmass! It was a spectacle to behold! She decided to give Fae a hand with Daphne's bags, since seven was a bit much. Daph wasn't the type of woman to do pretty much everything by herself and, not that Rogers had anything against that, but it was the usual, since everybody in the gang had their perks. Once the ferry managed to reach the pier, they were soon engulfed by a crowd of college students. To make sure they didn't get separated (again), Maggie stayed close with the other girls. "Welcome to Spooky Island!", a voice announced. "The frightfully-fun Spring Break resort for college students. Catch our Electrical Torture Parade; it's a dead world, after all! And don't forget to try our world-famous Splatterhorn!", a statue continued to share the news up to the newcomers, having to wave its arms around. "Scooby Doo! And the rest of Mystery Inc.! How marvelous it is to see you!", unfortunately, in the midst of his own excitement, he accidentally hit a few people walking by; the operator losing control over the mechanics. "Oh my goodness! I'm so sorry!" "This ghastly thing...", a man said in displeasure, as soon as he stepped out of the movable statue he had been occupying for the past half hour. Walking towards the gang, he smiled. "My apologies. It's a new toy; still trying to get up to speed with it. Anyway, welcome!". he said, reaching forward to shake Fred's hand. "I'm Emile Mondavarious; the owner of this amusement park", he introduced himself. "You seem less...", Velma piped up, almost a little skeptical. "Spooky", Shaggy added, mainly as a mental note for himself. "...than we would have guessed", the intelligent girl finished, still showing a face of slight disbelief. "You're the one who brought us here?" "Oh, no. What brought you here, is you're insatiable appetite for a juicy mystery", he responded; Maggie's eyes narrowing a little at the remark.</s> <\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. "You have no reason to be sorry!" Fae blurted out as Maggie apologized for not inviting them, "You had no real reason to know." She said, Dianna giving a nod. The two girls kind of just stayed quiet while they got closer to the island before they saw the island. Fae's eyes suddenly lit up at the sight of everything. "You're not allowed to pull anything apart." Dianna said offhandedly towards Fae, who shot her a childish glare, something that hadn't been done since the break up. Dianna gave a laugh and grinned towards Maggie, everything was so comfortable again; everything just felt... Good. As they walked onto the pier, Dianna wobbled slightly as she stepped off the boat, Fae moving quickly to help her friend with a grin, offering her hand towards Maggie to help her down too. As the crowd slowly gathered around them, Fae slowly slinked closer to her friends in mild fear of the large group of college students. She cleared her throat before her eyes were caught by the statue as they walked closer to it. As the man stepped out from behind it, her eyes lit up and she moved to step forward, Dianna moving to grab her shirt to pull her back. "Gauk!" Fae yelped as Dianna pulled her under her arm with a bigger grin. "She hasn't chanced has she?" Dianna said towards Maggie before she noticed her eyes narrowing. She looked towards the male before she looked him up and down almost quizzingly, "But you're the one who sent the letters right?" She asked after a bit of silence.</s>	<\|message\|>Maggie Rogers Maggie allowed Fae to help her down from the boat, although she did kind of lost a little bit of balance, due to being used to the swaying of the ferry. Thankfully, in only a few seconds, Rogers gained what she could of her bearings. She chuckled at the impulsive antics of the other girl, having to find this amusing. Good thing Dianna's reflexes were faster. "...oh, yes!", the owner said, after a pause of what the said-girl asked him, shortly before he signaled them to follow. Maggie didn't hesitate to follow after the man with the rest of the gang. At the same time, she wasn't really sure of what to make of him. He seemed friendly, but the earlier feeling that she had, back on the plane, was lingering. "Now, I am in great need of help. I believe that somebody here is casting a spell upon the students", he explained. "Have you noticed anything different between those arriving, and those departing?", he asked, giving them a moment to observe. Velma gazed at the departing line. "They look like regularly-behaved college students". "Precisely. But they haven't when they arrived", Emile explained. "The ones arriving seem normal; they're energetic and fun. But the ones departing, well...they weren't the same as when they had arrived". As if on cue, in the distance, one of the arriving male students approached a departing female, who he seemed to know for quite some time...until she suddenly assaulted him, surprisingly, in a physical sense. She lifted him off the ground by his shirt, and practically threw him, covering great distance! It was like she had superhuman strength! Maggie watched in disbelief, having to find it a little hard to believe that what she saw was real, and that Mondavarious may be right on his claim. Biting his lip, the owner turned to them. "I'm terrified for the young people here, and I don't want to lose this place. The people coming off of that barge; the people that I love most, they're in great danger. Will you help me?", the owner asked, nearly begging for their help. "I'm gonna solve this one first", Velma declared, already eager. "Not if I solve it first", Fred countered. "You guys are gonna look like total idiots when you're captured, and I'm the one saving you", Daphne said, having to already turn on her heel, and walk towards the hotel; the others not far behind. Maggie looked at the three, as they went their separate ways, frowning once more in disappointment. And so, the tension continued. Just like from two years ago. The mystery itself was intriguing, so Maggie put on her best smile, and turned to the man. "I'm sure you're doing great business here, Mister Mondavarious. We will do what we can here to help", she said, although at the same time, she was quite concerned, regarding the competition between the other three that may happen for the next few days. Shaggy looked at her, having to remain quiet and relaxed, not even bothering to get in the middle of the squabble; just letting it go. He tried to settle things last time, but it ended breaking them all up. So, he found it necessary to not try again, mainly due to his fear of making it worse. Plus, the brother knew that this was affecting his sister, no matter how hard she tried to hide it. Mondavarious was glad to hear their responses, having to sound relieved that he got some help. "This is marvelous! Just marvelous! I guess we should celebrate with a little Spookapalooza", he said. "S-S-Spookapalooza? Ruh-oh!", Scooby exclaimed, having to stutter at hearing the one word, hidden within the name. After she was happy to give the others help with their bags, Maggie found herself sharing a room with them. Due to the later weather turning warm yet humid, she changed into something for the evening: White tennis-shoes, a pair of bell-bottom jeans with a belt, and a red, sleeveless tank-top. The only thing missing, would be her denim jacket. Pieces of her long brown hair was still clipped back, while the rest still draping down to her back and mid-chest. Rogers was just walking into the two-person bathroom, until she spotted Fae standing in front of the sink, looking at her wrist. "You doing alright?"</s>
<\|description\|>Maggie Rogers Nickname(s)/Alias(es): Mags, Magsie, or Magster. She was called Sugie ("shoo-gē") at early childhood, much like her brother's nickname, but now refuses to be called this, as it seems to vex her. Gender: Female. Hair Color: "Sun-Kissed" Brown. Eye Color: Hazel. Sexuality: Bi-curious Lesbian Occupation(s): Part-Time Waitress; Part-Time Daycare Helper; Amateur Sleuth. Affiliation: Mystery Inc. Family: - Samuel Chastain-Rogers (father) - Wendy Rogers (mother) - Norville "Shaggy" Rogers (brother) - Gaggy Rogers (uncle) - Albert Shaggleford (uncle) - Salty Rogers (uncle) - Henry Rogers (uncle) - Tawny Rogers (cousin) - Jamison Willikers (cousin) - Stetson Rogers (cousin) - Betty-Lou (cousin) - McBaggy Rogers (ancestor) - Jack "Dapper" Rogers (ancestor) Personality: Maggie is the third-only person in Shaggy's life, to possess similar traits: Though somewhat of an airhead, she's a good soul, whose kindness, patience, and remarkable tolerance allows her to deal with chaos, whilst having to seek out the positive parts of an issue; a dominant trait, inherited from their mother. The opposite to her brother's cowardly, laid-back personality, Maggie is energetic, courageous and, strangely, mature (since her air headedness doesn't seem to make up for it, at all). Since birth, she and her older brother are very close, with Shaggy describing her as 'his favorite human person in the whole world'. While they are very different, and have their moments on deciding an activity, or a course of action, they will both enjoy, or agree upon, Maggie is aware of his likes, dislikes, and restrictions, therefore she always takes them to consideration. However, when it really comes down to it, sometimes, her seriousness doesn't help. They definitely share a chemistry in culinary arts, either with the goal of becoming restaurant hosts, or general chefs; according to them: "She's the proud cooker, while he's the proud eater". This shared love is expressed whenever she surprises Shaggy with his favorite, bizarre food choices, albeit she would politely refuse to eat them herself. Skills & Abilities: - Handling Children (especially those who act like them). - Talented Cook. - Great Resourcefulness. - Athleticism (Running, Jumping, etc.). Portrayed By: Jennifer Garner (adult)</s> <\|message\|>Maggie Rogers It made all the more sense for them to change their attires, since they were now in a more tropical setting, instead of the cool, suburban outskirts of their hometown. The island was nicely laid out, financially and theme-wise; it certainly had a vacation-feeling to it, being a resort and all, but everyone in the gang knew that this wasn't the time to treat it as such, especially since Velma, Daphne, and Fred would get too caught up in their ambition to a game of "one-up". However, that didn't mean that they couldn't try to blend, hence the reason why the three girls decided to change clothes, and settle in, before starting their investigation. Fae's instinctual response made Maggie narrow her eyes, and tilt her head. While Dianna was working out her attire, Rogers scanned the other's face, before glancing at the hand she put behind her back. She looked back up at her, before giving an innocent smile, and leaning against the doorway. "You can tell me anything, Fae", she simply said, choosing not to poke around in her business. "Even after two years, we're still here for you; you know that", Maggie added, shortly before turning back to watch Dianna. "Best we look our part in this mystery, ladies. We don't want to miss the Spookapalooza", she said, with a grin. Once they were ready, the trio ventured to the entertainment grounds, where certain performances were being held, with music playing over them. Fire breathers and twirlers - even performers thriving in tribal music. While the events may seem to be entrancing and enticing, the girls were on a mission, and have agreed to meet up at one of the tables near the bar to discuss their findings. Maggie managed to interview a few people, both employee and visitor, but strangely, no one claimed to have encountered anything unusual. That's odd - there were no witnesses, aside from Mondavarious. The taller girl sipped her drink at one of the tables, shortly before spotting Shaggy playing the crane game...and winning a prize for the blonde girl he was talking to, a few hours ago, on the plane.</s> <\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Fae's smile suddenly dropped when Maggie mentioned she could tell her anything, "I know, It's just... It's been so fucking long." She said, tears starting to slowly bubble in her eyes. Dianna walked in slowly as she heard Fae swear, knowing she barely swore unless she was very angry or stressed. "What's going on-" She started before she saw Fae holding her wrist. "Fae..." She started before Maggie mentioned about the Spookapalooza. "Right, I'm ready." She said as she looked down to herself before looking to Maggie and Fae. Fae had managed to change into dark black skinny jeans with a black tank top, which revealed small cuts and marks over her shoulders and back. "I'll explain things when we get back." Fae said as she readied herself to leave, "Come on." They went together to the entertainment grounds, Fae immediately was entranced by the atmosphere and she stopped in her tracks, allowing Dianna and Maggie to continue onwards. Dianna walked off from the other two girls and started trying to strike up conversation with anyone she could in order to ask if anyone saw anything abnormally; annoyingly no one had anything to report. She looked around to try and find her Cousin but couldn't see her either, and now she was too far away to find Fae or Maggie. Damn Fae and her short stature. Fae snapped back to reality as she was bumped into by Scooby, who was walking around finding places to eat. "Scoob!" Fae said with a small smile, moving to run her hand in the great danes fur, "Seen anything weird yet?" She asked, trying not to panic at the fact she couldn't see over anyone around her. "I don't know where to start.." She uttered to herself, glancing sideways to notice a male watching her quietly before she moved towards one of the fire breathers to just take in the atmosphere.</s> <\|message\|>Maggie Rogers It was only a bit of time that everyone split up. Maggie looked about, having to watch a majority of the performers passing by, as well as glanced at the people that sat at the tables. Something did not sit right, and she wasn't only talking about the strange markings that were all over Fae's upper body. She was aware of them, but she didn't want Blake's situation to trouble everyone, and waste their time. So, once they found the appropriate time to be alone, where Fae was a lot more calm, Maggie could potentially approach her on the subject. However, the time to actually do so, wasn't fluid, since she traveled in a different direction, along with Dianna disappearing shortly afterwards, leaving Maggie by herself. Trying to observe the guests, as well as the employees, everything seemed like a regular vacation's evening. However, by the time she turned her upper body around to look behind her, she did notice one of the bartenders, glancing at her, from the bar. Her eyes widened a little, with her lips slightly gaping, she eventually looked away at her drink, when it seemed to be prolonged. It wasn't a look of curiosity, but rather, vigilance, as if he was looking out. As scattered as she may be in the head, Maggie wasn't dim enough to not know that someone was watching her. Sniffing around, Scooby did indeed bump into one of the Blakes. "R'ae!", he said, giving her a lick, before shaking his head at her question. He then continued to sniff the ground, shortly before perking up. "R'urgers! (Burgers)", he barked, darting off into the bushes, and through the trees. "Fae!", Maggie's voice called, waving over to her from the table, avoiding to turn back at the bartender, in the distance. Meanwhile, at one of the dance performances, Velma observed a tribal dance, around a fire. Everything seemed like your ordinary entertainment venue, until she looked over at the guests, where she could see a few of the college kids, in the further back end of the crowd, staring straight ahead from where they stood, and chanting under their breaths, as if they were in some sort of trance. At the same time, these words seem to be blending in too well with the music of the performance. That's strange. 'A magic spell', she was told. Were these people she was seeing, the victims of this? Who would be doing it? And, why?</s> <\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Fae grinned when Scooby spoke to her, before she watched him head off towards supposed Burgers in the bushes. Burgers in the Bushes sounded a bit off to her before she heard her name being called out. She turned towards Maggie's voice, her face suddenly lit up as she walked over towards Maggie. "Maggie!" She said with a tilt of her head, moving to sit beside her on another bar stool. "Anything of importance yet?" She asked with a small frown. She turned to look around for Dianna, but couldn't see her anywhere- Despite the womans height. Dianna slowly looked around as she was getting deeper and deeper into the crowd, panic started to set in as she was being pushed around the group of people. She bumped into Velma and almost fell over her cousin. "Oh god I'm sorry." Dianna said before she realized who she bumped into before she smiled gently to her cousin. "How's it going Velms?" She asked with a bit of a grin.</s> <\|message\|>Maggie Rogers By the time she saw Fae sit next to her, at the bar, she smiled. She shook her head at her question. "Aside from a few creepy glances, I keep getting the same answer: Nothing. No one has seen anything out of the ordinary; no one has noticed anything weird", she said, almost a little disappointed, before looking through the crowd of people. "It feels like it's hiding in plain", as confused as Rogers was; how could Mondevarious be the only one making this claim, if none of the guests would be in agreement? Everybody and everything seemed to be living in a normal fashion, at least, that's what it looked like. It just didn't seem to make any sense...unless they were looking in the wrong places. She was sipping her drink, before she widened her eyes, and raised her eyebrows, placing it back on the counter. "I did catch wind about some old, abandoned ride. Perhaps we should look there", maybe they didn't cover enough areas yet. "It's...actually not a bad idea", just as she said this, the sound of Scooby running from behind the trees, and in a panicky fashion. "R'onster! R'onster!", he shouted, scrambling into the arms on Shaggy. "A monster?", he asked, before looking in the direction where his dog came. However, instead of a "monster", it was some guy in a giant bunny costume. "Scooby Doo, like, quit goofing around man", he scolded him, putting him down. Maggie frowned, before she too looked back in the direction that the Great Dane ran from. "We should follow the path. Maybe we'll nail ourselves a culprit".</s> <\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Fae frowned at the mention of finding nothing, now that she had the height of the bar chair she looked up and around slowly. She couldn't see Dianna just yet, nor could she see anyone else before Scooby ran over past them to his friend. "Monster?" She asked before she looked over towards where Scooby went before she looked towards Maggie. "We're thinking the same thing." Fae said with a grin before she heard footsteps behind her and glanced sideways towards Dianna. Dianna had heard the commotion before she looked towards Fae and Maggie before she gave a small grin. "Small adventure?" She asked as she moved to stand between Dianna and Fae, instinctively looping her arms into theirs like old times. "Let's go." She grinned even more.</s>	<\|message\|>Maggie Rogers After seeing the Great Dane run out from between the trees, Maggie had to admit that she was just about ready to stand up from her seat, out of reflex. Thankfully, it turned out to be a misunderstanding. 'Guess old Scoob saw something different in his own mind again' Maggie mused in her mind, before releasing a sigh of relief, and chuckling to herself. She wasn't aware of Dianna walking up towards them, from behind, as she took another drink from her cup. It was until she felt an arm loop inside her own, in a very familiar fashion. Rogers smiled and nodded, taking one more sip, before getting up, and leading the way towards the pathway that Scooby ran from: Through the forest, the trees, and towards the old castle near the beach. She gave a giggle, and took both of their hands. It was like they were best friends again, sneaking off to find excitement. The place surely has seen better days. A question still stood: Why shut down a ride? What was wrong with it? It could have broken down, but why would it still stand? Maggie looked up at the old abandoned castle, having to widen her eyes, and create a slight gap on her lips. "Wow", she said softly, having to be quite appalled. "I know I shouldn't sound critical or judge-y, but how could a place like this be still standing?", based on her observation, it was true. Again, she didn't how long the structure had been here, but it looked just about ready to collapse, at any time. It just seemed very separate from the other sections they've seen so far.</s>
<\|description\|>Maggie Rogers Nickname(s)/Alias(es): Mags, Magsie, or Magster. She was called Sugie ("shoo-gē") at early childhood, much like her brother's nickname, but now refuses to be called this, as it seems to vex her. Gender: Female. Hair Color: "Sun-Kissed" Brown. Eye Color: Hazel. Sexuality: Bi-curious Lesbian Occupation(s): Part-Time Waitress; Part-Time Daycare Helper; Amateur Sleuth. Affiliation: Mystery Inc. Family: - Samuel Chastain-Rogers (father) - Wendy Rogers (mother) - Norville "Shaggy" Rogers (brother) - Gaggy Rogers (uncle) - Albert Shaggleford (uncle) - Salty Rogers (uncle) - Henry Rogers (uncle) - Tawny Rogers (cousin) - Jamison Willikers (cousin) - Stetson Rogers (cousin) - Betty-Lou (cousin) - McBaggy Rogers (ancestor) - Jack "Dapper" Rogers (ancestor) Personality: Maggie is the third-only person in Shaggy's life, to possess similar traits: Though somewhat of an airhead, she's a good soul, whose kindness, patience, and remarkable tolerance allows her to deal with chaos, whilst having to seek out the positive parts of an issue; a dominant trait, inherited from their mother. The opposite to her brother's cowardly, laid-back personality, Maggie is energetic, courageous and, strangely, mature (since her air headedness doesn't seem to make up for it, at all). Since birth, she and her older brother are very close, with Shaggy describing her as 'his favorite human person in the whole world'. While they are very different, and have their moments on deciding an activity, or a course of action, they will both enjoy, or agree upon, Maggie is aware of his likes, dislikes, and restrictions, therefore she always takes them to consideration. However, when it really comes down to it, sometimes, her seriousness doesn't help. They definitely share a chemistry in culinary arts, either with the goal of becoming restaurant hosts, or general chefs; according to them: "She's the proud cooker, while he's the proud eater". This shared love is expressed whenever she surprises Shaggy with his favorite, bizarre food choices, albeit she would politely refuse to eat them herself. Skills & Abilities: - Handling Children (especially those who act like them). - Talented Cook. - Great Resourcefulness. - Athleticism (Running, Jumping, etc.). Portrayed By: Jennifer Garner (adult)</s> <\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Fae grinned happily at Dianna suddenly linking arms with the two of them, and moved with the other two girls with a smile that was probably the biggest she had ever smiled in the past three years. Fae's cheeks flooded deeper red as Maggie grabbed their hands, her heart raced. Dianna allowed Maggie to lead them along, she grinned like an absolute goofball as they got closer and closer to the old ride. "I agree, it's not judgey at all." Dianna said with a small nod, "Unless it's on the list of being fixed?" Fae's eyes widened at the look of the ride, she stepped forward slowly before Dianna moved to grab her shoulder quickly. "Calm down there boy." Dianna said with a bit of a wink towards her friend, her voice snapping Fae from the almost trance she'd get from unknown machines. Fae blinked before she cleared her throat and looked over to Maggie and Dianna with a bit of a grin. "Sorry, you know how I get with... Machines." Fae muttered slightly before she turned back to the ride before looking around a bit more. "We should check it out, but not stray too far from each other."</s> <\|message\|>Maggie Rogers Maggie placed her hands on her hips, as she examined the place a bit more with widening eyes. She turned back to look at the girls, and gave a smile, eyeing them with amusement, shortly before turning back to look at the structure. "Don't worry, Fae. I'll surprise you with something disassembled later, if you put yourself on a leash", she sing-songed, with a toothy grin, before leading the way, up to the front door, that was, somehow, ajar. That feeling was back, causing Rogers to frown. She expected the others to follow, tailing albeit close, behind her - especially since they were out here in the dark, and possibly, alone. Even as the taller girl walked, Maggie looked around, trying to spot something that would help in their investigation. Being careful in her steps, and trying not to trip, the trio approached the open door. Poking her head in first, Maggie found the 'haunted house'-themed ride a lot worse for wear, on the inside. The interiors were wore through, filled with a number of creepy figures...and voices? She turned her head back to the other two, and pushed the door a bit more, unintentionally letting out a loud squeak, which caused a frightened shout, coming from those voices. By the time it was wide open, the sources were none other than her brother, Scooby, and Daphne. Kind of strange to find them here first, but maybe the girls took the long way, while they took a short cut? There was always a possibility.</s> <\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Fae went to argue with Maggie's words before she heard the part about being on a leash and her eyes widened, cheeks suddenly flooding with red in colour. Fae looked to Dianna, who only grinned at Fae's sudden fluster before they both quickly followed the Rogers female inside. "Voices?" Dianna uttered to herself as she looked around, hearing the sounds inside as they slunk through the doorway. The squeak of the door caused Fae to bounce and ready herself to attack something, but she slowly relaxed after a moment of nothing moving towards her. Dianna looked back to Fae and then looked towards the source of the sounds. "Oh hey!" Dianna called to Scooby, Shaggy and Daphne. "Funny finding you guys here." She continued with a bit of a grin. Fae sighed as she saw her cousin and Maggie's sibling; Seeing Scoob made things even better, she really liked that big doofy dog. Fae moved quickly past Dianna and Maggie, moving over to Scooby and started to smush his face in her hands with a little bit of a grin. "I'm glad we found you guys instead of something more scary." Dianna said with a glance towards Fae, "Hey Fae, did you manage to bring any of those recording Drones that you were working on?" She asked after the idea suddenly flooded into her head. Fae blinked slowly, pulling her hands away from Scooby with a bigger smile. "I mean, if I'm allowed to bring them out," She glanced towards Daphne, "I did bring them, but someone doesn't like me showing off my tech."</s> <\|message\|>Maggie Rogers Scooby closed his eyes, and relished in the affection of the young woman, nearly scratching himself with his back foot. Daphne cleared her throat, when her cousin made that comment, before composing herself. "It's not that I don't want you to use your gadgets, Fae. It's just that there are times, where they don't need to be used", it was like the red-head was being careful in choosing her words - slowly, and out of reluctance; she didn't want to hurt her feelings, after speaking her opinion. But then, the very word "opinion" made Daphne realize that's what she has been doing to her cousin, for the past two years. It came to her, right then, and there; just by looking at the other girl: All those times of Fae, being quieter than normal, trying to convince her on rekindling with their old friends. It tugged her heart. Was she already hurting her feelings, and not being aware of it? What snapped her out of her conscious, was the loud opening of another door, which caused Shaggy to jump into Scooby's arms. Maggie flinched at the sound, but relaxed when she came to see that it was only Fred, making her brother casually descended from the talking dog's grasp. Any more surprises, during this night? "Fred, I found this place first. I call dibs on its clues", Daphne declared to him, remarkably going back to her much-more confident facade. "I've already found some clues", he said. "What?", she, in return, questioned, feeling the approach of defeat. "I've also found a few things", Velma's voice sounded, stepping out of a hallway. "This ride was closed, due to dangerous construction. It's the perfect place for hatching up an insidious plan." "Well, since we're all together, let's split up. Daphne and Fae, search this entrance; Velma and I will take the passage over there; Maggie and 'Anna...keep an eye on Shaggy and Scooby, after you go through that entrance", he gestured to the door on the other side of the room. "Sounds good", Maggie responded, relieved that they were all working together for once. With that, they all split up to their respective positions.</s> <\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Fae immediately looked towards Fred and Velma as they appeared. She seemed to relax a bit before she looked over to Daphne as she was told to go with her before she nodded and stepped over to her cousin, she looked over towards Maggie and Dianna almost longingly. "I think I have a more of a quiet drone if we need." Fae uttered, moreso to herself, out loud. She moved her hand instinctively to the pocket that held the tiny drone, folded up in order for it to stay hidden. Dianna looked over towards Shaggy and Scooby as she was told to look after them. Baby-sitting duty again, unsurprising to Dianna at this point but she smiled anyway. "You guys okay?" She asked the older Rogers and the Great Dane, she gave an almost motherly smile to them before she looked towards Maggie with a small sparkle in her eyes.</s> <\|message\|>Maggie Rogers Maggie shrugged apologetically towards Fae, before her lips curled into an amused smile, when she noticed the other place her hand in her pocket to pull something far-too-familiar. She kept the thought to herself, knowing that it was Fae's clever nature to be sneaky with her gadgets. By the time she led the way through a hallway, Shaggy and Scooby cautiously yet sheepishly followed behind, having to already feel the nerves of being in such a dark and abandoned place. Of course, like Fae, Dianna wouldn't hesitate on joining her, since the three women were very much inseparable. It wasn't anything new, to the rest of the gang, since Maggie was known for her tendency of playing 'leader' for the other two. In fact, one would think (if anyone knew) that this was probably one of the very things that made the female Rogers so enticing; why Dianna and Fae follow her lead, and why it seemed like they were enamored with her. Was it her courage? Her airheadedness? Her unpredictable nature? Her...beauty? So many theories. She may have missed Dianna looking at her, by the time they turned a corner. Her question towards her older sibling and his dog made Maggie reach back to take his hand, and give it a gentle squeeze, hoping that the gesture alone would help him, after seeing him gulp. It seemed to, considering that she felt him relax. Upon reaching a door, she let go of him, by the time she approached it. Quietly, the female Rogers opened it, and poked her head through; Shaggy following her action, above her, with Scooby whimpering, below them. "It's okay, boy", she said softly, petting him, before taking hold of Dianna's hand, and pushed the structure more. This revealing room seemed to be modeled into that of a dining room, or a kitchen.</s> <\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Dianna watched the three Rogers with a bit of a smirk before she looked through the doorway. She looked around the dining room like area and stepped through, blinking as Maggie grabbed her hand. "Oh wow." She said out loud, "This place is... Gorgeous." She said as she spun around slowly, taking in the room completely. "Spooky," She continued with a bit of a grin, "I love it." --- Fae walked along with Daphne, keeping her eyes up as she looked around. She held her compact Drone in her hand, just in case they needed it for later. "I still think it is a good idea to use them." She spoke under her breath as she glanced down at her hands before she gave a glance towards Daphne, her eyes moved away as Daphne looked back at her to answer. She kept her eyes out for anything out of the ordinary, paying attention to everything she could see. She felt the urge to use the drone, despite everything that Daphne told her not to, it would help, it had a small inferred camera in it to help with the darkness around the two of them.</s>	<\|message\|>Maggie Rogers Snickering at the other girl's comment, Maggie walked to a section of the room to look around, having to let go of her hand, in order to get a closer look at the wall. Shaggy and Scooby immediately looked at the spread on the table, covered with food, clearly mesmerized by the sight. She knew it wasn't real but, the real question is, do they know it is fake? Left alone at the entrance of the haunted house, along with her cousin, there was a clear, awkward tension between them. Daphne had been trying to open a door back in the front room, but it wouldn't budge. She really didn't know what to say, in the moment, other than to try and voice out her realization of how much pain she was giving the brunette. Especially, right now. "Come on, Fae. There's plenty of light", she argued, as if she was answering her cousin's thoughts. Giving the door another push, the red-head grunted, but it still didn't budge. Huffing, she decided to put her newly-earned black belt to good use, and gave the door a mighty kick, which seemed to have worked. However, she was unaware of the power around them, mysteriously, turning itself on. All around them, animatronics started to move, creepy laughter and sounds reverberated, and strobe lights starting flashing. Caught off guard in surprise, Daphne was unaware of one of the ride's automobiles, rolling on the tracks, in her direction. Before she knew it, she was picked up, and being dragged through the tunnels, yelling. "Fae!" Meanwhile, just as laughter echoed throughout the castle, one of the floorboards underneath Dianna gave out, representing a trapdoor. Before she could fall all the way through, Maggie was quick to act, grabbing her hand, catching her. Shaggy and Scooby screamed, finding themselves on a wall by...sausage links? "What do we do?!", the talking dog yelled.</s>
<\|description\|>Maggie Rogers Nickname(s)/Alias(es): Mags, Magsie, or Magster. She was called Sugie ("shoo-gē") at early childhood, much like her brother's nickname, but now refuses to be called this, as it seems to vex her. Gender: Female. Hair Color: "Sun-Kissed" Brown. Eye Color: Hazel. Sexuality: Bi-curious Lesbian Occupation(s): Part-Time Waitress; Part-Time Daycare Helper; Amateur Sleuth. Affiliation: Mystery Inc. Family: - Samuel Chastain-Rogers (father) - Wendy Rogers (mother) - Norville "Shaggy" Rogers (brother) - Gaggy Rogers (uncle) - Albert Shaggleford (uncle) - Salty Rogers (uncle) - Henry Rogers (uncle) - Tawny Rogers (cousin) - Jamison Willikers (cousin) - Stetson Rogers (cousin) - Betty-Lou (cousin) - McBaggy Rogers (ancestor) - Jack "Dapper" Rogers (ancestor) Personality: Maggie is the third-only person in Shaggy's life, to possess similar traits: Though somewhat of an airhead, she's a good soul, whose kindness, patience, and remarkable tolerance allows her to deal with chaos, whilst having to seek out the positive parts of an issue; a dominant trait, inherited from their mother. The opposite to her brother's cowardly, laid-back personality, Maggie is energetic, courageous and, strangely, mature (since her air headedness doesn't seem to make up for it, at all). Since birth, she and her older brother are very close, with Shaggy describing her as 'his favorite human person in the whole world'. While they are very different, and have their moments on deciding an activity, or a course of action, they will both enjoy, or agree upon, Maggie is aware of his likes, dislikes, and restrictions, therefore she always takes them to consideration. However, when it really comes down to it, sometimes, her seriousness doesn't help. They definitely share a chemistry in culinary arts, either with the goal of becoming restaurant hosts, or general chefs; according to them: "She's the proud cooker, while he's the proud eater". This shared love is expressed whenever she surprises Shaggy with his favorite, bizarre food choices, albeit she would politely refuse to eat them herself. Skills & Abilities: - Handling Children (especially those who act like them). - Talented Cook. - Great Resourcefulness. - Athleticism (Running, Jumping, etc.). Portrayed By: Jennifer Garner (adult)</s> <\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Fae was quick to notice the power suddenly turning on, moving to reach out to Daphne. "D-Daph...-" She started before she watched the automobiles snagging her cousin. "Daph!" She called out in worry as she was carried off. Adrenaline flooded her body before she started to sprint off after the ride. She wasn't the fittest, but she was incredibly happy she was wearing her sneakers rather than any fancy shoes. Instinctively she let go of her drone and it immediately started to fly quickly after her, buzzing around her like a bee. Fae paid no attention to the animatronics, she knew they caused her to panic. She hated them ever since she was grabbed accidentally by one when she was around 7 years old, becoming older helped with the fear of them attacking her on their own works- but it was still ingrained. She had read too many things about haunted mechanics, too many nights up late reading books, articles and stories anywhere she could. She moved to tap her pockets as she ran, swearing silently to herself for not bringing a faster drone than B.V. "B.V go ahead," She said as she continued to push herself to run, "Please find Daph." The drone spun around her head before starting to fly faster than her and disappeared into the hallways in front of her. "Shit!" Dianna swore as she started to fall, Maggie's hand grabbing hers to pull her out. She pulled herself up with Maggies help and shook herself off before she looked around with a bit of a sneer. "What was that?" She looked to Maggie with a worried look. She glanced towards the boys with a blink as she heard them yell. "Did you hear that laughter?"</s> <\|message\|>Maggie Rogers Maggie had mixed feelings of confusion, fear, and disappointment, especially when chaos ensued. She looked down at Dianna, clinging onto her for dear life. Rogers caught a glimpse of what was below them...a room of pure darkness. There was no way she was going to leave the young woman to that, so with the amount of strength that she had, Maggie began to pull her up, the best she could. Eventually, with their combined strength, they've managed to reach the top...making Maggie crouch down, and continue to pull her up, until she came next to her. At her question, the female Rogers looked up at the ceiling for a few seconds, before hearing the screams of Shaggy and Scooby, who appeared to be stuck on a wall, trapped and surrounded by a bunch of different kinds of meat. Quickly, Maggie raced to them, trying to find a way to release them. Scooby was too much in a panic, while Shaggy tried to stay brave, but not for very long...as he screamed in terror when an animatronic creature came out of the wall, hissing. What were they going to do? They couldn't pull them out, since the fake food on the wall, seemed to be sticking them there. "Come on, Dianna, help me!", Maggie said, trying to keep herself, as she attempted to free the boys. Somewhere, Fred, Daphne, and Velma weren't having any better luck. The red-head was still being dragged by the automobile, clinging onto it for dear life, mumbling to herself. "I'm not helpless; I'm not helpless", she said to herself, unaware of her cousin's drone hovering above her. She was far too focused on what was in front of her and, if it can't get any worse, there was a wall, up ahead, with blades protruding from it. "I am helpless; I'm gonna die!", she realized with a frightened yell, dread falling down on her. Fred and Velma were trying to outrun a few obstacles, but eventually, in what seemed like forever, (although it was accidental) the leader managed to find the switch that seemed to have powered everything. The moment he flipped it, everything stopped; the animatronics going back to their original spots, as if they haven't moved at all, and the automobile that Daphne was stuck on, immediately halted...a few inches away from the wall, that could have sealed her fate. Hearing the buzzing, she looked up to see her cousin's drone, and stared at it, before detaching herself from the car. Tilting her head, she shakily smiled at it. It wouldn't have been a bad idea, after all. By the time everything stopped, Shaggy was in pure happiness. "We made it. We're alive!", he was clearly thrilled, along with Maggie, who laughed with him, until the wall her brother was stuck on, tilted backwards, back to its original position. With a yelp, it dragged the young women, along with it, causing them to fall, next to the owner and his dog. "Whew!", Maggie sighed, just as the wind was knocked out of her, shortly after landing on the ground. "That was weird", the male Rogers commented from next to her, looking at the ceiling.</s> <\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Dianna stumbled into a standing position as she ran after Maggie, not wanting to be left alone just yet. She managed to get to them as Shaggy and Scooby had gotten out of the meat holding them to the wall. She moved to help everyone up with a weak, almost worried smile. "We alright?" She asked, looking at everyone before something clicked in her head. "Fae." She suddenly started. She looked to Maggie with a worried look, "Fae's scared of robots like the stuff here." She continued almost worriedly. B.V buzzed around Daphne's head for a bit, before darting up and the lights underneath it suddenly it up as it started to take some photos. Footsteps echoed around as Fae rounded the corner and stumbled, "Daph!" She called out, moving quickly and pulling her up into a tight hug. Fae didn't even pay attention to B.V was it buzzed around their heads, continuing to take photos of where they were. "Oh my god I was so worried. I'm so sorry." She mumbled quickly, holding Daphne close to her and almost sobbing into her chest as she did so.</s> <\|message\|>Maggie Rogers Daphne hugged Fae tightly, having to be relieved herself that she was safe. Looking back up at the drone, she took a moment to realize that maybe she was wrong; that the red-head shouldn't have put Fae's interests second. Judging by her cries, Daphne owed her an apology. "It's okay", she managed to say, after a moment of thought. "I'm okay", she added, shortly before she caught something in her line of sight behind her cousin. It seemed to be a stand, with a small pyramid, sitting on the top. "Hey", she said softly to the girl, tapping her back. Once she retracted, she wiped the tears off of her cousin's face, before cautiously approaching the strange object. By the time she got in front of it, the red head carefully placed her hand on the sides, and lifted it from the stand. "What is it?", Daphne questioned, shortly before a loud alarm went off. "Let's go!", she didn't bother to figure out where it was coming from, since she immediately took Fae's hand, with the small pyramid in her other hand. "Daph's with her", Maggie said, having to place her hands on the other woman's forearms, in order to reassure her best friend. "She should be okay. At least I hope", Fae had to be safe in her cousin's presence, right? Judging by how they were standing, they were pretty close together, although it was Shaggy's voice that cut into the tension. "Hey", he said to everyone in the room; his head sticking into another part of the room. Maggie broke eye contact with Dianna, and looked over to see her brother and Scooby already on their feet. Taking the other woman's hand, the female Rogers wasn't too far behind her brother, having to see a kitchen-modeled set, in the next room, behind a curtain. Why would something like this be right next to a ride? In the same building? "Now, this is weird", she commented, as she stepped further in, and looked around. Running her hand on the kitchen-cabinet's surface, so many questions went through her mind. However, before she could say anything, a loud alarm surrounded them. Only one thought came to mind. "Skedaddle!", Shaggy declared, not hesitating to run out, with Scooby having to willingly follow suit. Were they caught? Maggie didn't want to wait around to find out. Just as both groups managed to get back into the hallway, they found Fred and Velma attempting to leave, as well. "Hey! We found a very interesting clue", Daphne told them, just as she and Fae appeared, and held the mysterious object carefully in her hands. "Us too. We believe that this is a brainwashing facility for an evil cult", Velma shared with a smile. "And maybe this is the artifact-thingy that they worship", it was great to see the gang seemingly cooperate with each other. It was as if the old days never left, and that the shifting had never existed. "Let's get out of here", Maggie said to all of them, having to get out of the building through the closest exit.</s> <\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. As Daphne and Fae hugged, B.V buzzed around quickly, taking photos and silently sending out little probes to keep watch on everything before it buzzed over to Fae as Daphne let her go. Fae shivered slightly and smiled to her cousin, before she watched as Daphne stepped towards the pyramid. "What... is it?" She asked as she reached out and grabbed B.V and watched as the machine rolled itself up to fit into her pocket again. Fae went to speak before the Alarm sounded, Fae almost jumped out of her skin before she stepped towards Daphne and nodded at the idea of leaving, and quickly. She followed after Daphne without another word, keeping her eyes on her cousin in fear she'd lose her again. Dianna followed after Maggie without a question, she looked to Shaggy and Scooby and instinctively moved to rub the Great Danes head. As they got together, Dianna moved away from Maggie and pulled Fae into a tight hug. Fae let out a squeak before Dianna let her down. "I was so worried when things went... Crazy." Dianna said, Fae gave a small smile and waved her hand to show she was okay, but she didn't say anything. When Velma mentioned brain washing, Fae gave a frown before they moved to leave the building. She grabbed Dianna's hand and pulled her along slowly. "Brainwashing?" Fae whispered to Maggie and Dianna as they ran along to get out of the area. "Apparently?" Dianna replied with a shrug.</s>	<\|message\|>Maggie Rogers The very mention of 'brainwashing' made Maggie's stomach, either do a few flips, or drop instantly, since their seemingly-mission turned on its head. They were instructed to investigate the strange behaviors of the college students, hopefully by finding the person, who may be brewing up something that might be influencing them. But then, how does that explain their surprising strength, like from earlier? Was that woman always strong, to begin with? Appearances can be deceiving, after all. Judging by what they have found tonight, however, it's like that very incident was seconds past. A brainwashing facility? An evil cult? The mysterious object that Daphne found? This was out of their league, and beyond them. However, that didn't mean they were going to abandon the mission, no matter how strange. 'Strange' was what they were all about. Maggie reached back to take the free hands of both girls, right as they were exiting the haunted house ride. It was still dark, and the gang decided to retreat to the hotel, so they can gather their minds, and inform Mondavarius what they have discovered. The front lobby looked like a large, two-level lodge; like how one would expect on a trip to a house on the beach. One level had indoor fire pits, tables and chairs, along with some couches, with the second floor showing more tables and chairs, as well as piano, with someone playing on it, filling the room with relaxing music. The one thing that stood out, for both levels, were people sitting at bars. "I'll inform the owner", Fred said, as Velma took the artifact from Daphne. "And I'll go examine this; see if I can get anything from the inscriptions inside", she declared with a smile, before the red head piped in. "I'll go research cults on the 'net", before giving Velma a small high-five. With that, the three went their separate ways, including Shaggy and Scooby, who went to one of the nearby tables, where that familiar blonde girl was sitting at. Maggie walked over to one of the lounge couches, and flopped down with a tired sigh.</s>
<\|description\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Personality: Fae is incredibly nerdy; a lover of fantasy, sci-fi, music and mystery, it takes a bit to scare her. Known for being cheery, gentle, easy going and playful, she seems to have a minor case of ADHD, particularly shown in her strong, hyper focused affinity for computers and/or anything mechanical. In addition to being overly curious, Fae stays true to the Blake name, often getting herself almost hurt, or into trouble, especially when she is disassembling machines against one's wishes. Though shy around typically large creatures, she absolutely adores animals, especially birds, as they, technically, have a close relation to dinosaurs. Skills & Abilities: -Computer Skills -Taking Apart and Building Machines -Map Making Portrayed By: Whitney Able (adult) Nickname(s)/Alias(es): Dia, Dee, Dye, Anna. Gender: Female. Hair Color: Dark Brown. Eye Color: Deep-Blue. Sexuality: Lesbian. Occupation(s): Archaeologist (formerly), Fashion Designer (full-time), Swim Instructor (volunteer) Affiliation: Mystery Inc. Family: -John Dinkley (father) -Velma Dinkley (cousin) -Dale Dinkley (uncle) -Angie Dinkley (aunt) Dianna is a rather good-looking woman; her hair is always up in a neat Pony-tail or braid, her clothes are often crisp and clean. She is skinny, but not excessively; her body is surprisingly lean due to her swimming. Due to her swimming and her stints with Archeology, her skin is slightly tanned, a few freckles down her arms and over her nose and cheeks. Personality: Dianna was always known her creativity, whilst being the 'Pretty Woman', which easily got her into the Fashion industry. Being dotted over by others from her looks, people often say she was the beauty whereas Velma, whom she cherishes, and never leaves behind, was the brains. Due to this, Dianna is a bit depressed, and a loner, who's very unsure about her own intellect. In addition, even at work, she is curious albeit not that outgoing, with not that many friends, and often left to herself, either seen daydreaming or zoning out, whilst taking notes whenever something comes across her mind. Skills & Abilities: -Clothing and Costume making. -Good Baker. -Knowledge of Dinosaurs. -Strong Swimmer. -Strong Lungs. Portrayed By: Jennifer Love Hewitt (adult)</s> <\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. After everything sort of... exploded; Fae was kind of, left alone. She never vocalized her sadness of it all, she just kept her head down and continued on her work. It was easier to ignore this way, just put your head down in the office and focus mainly on whatever you were tinkering on or what code you were making. After the massive falling out, she was reluctant to hang out with her cousin, but... She was the closest family at this point, so much that Fae even took the small amount of stuff she had with her and moved in with Daphne. Fae often kept to herself even when they were living together, she got her own room and due to Maggie and Dianna never contacted her anymore she just sort of... stayed there. Daphne would often pull her out and around, and she simply allowed it. There was no use arguing with her cousin, she got dramatic when things didn't go her way. --- Dianna's love of life sort of fizzled out when the group split, she spent the first month just staying in her room by herself. She often forgot to eat or drink, which caused her to get sick and very thin to the point where she was sent to stay with Velma due to it. Velma helped Dianna get at least a bit happier again, but she wasn't as energetic as she used to be. They started to take more trips to the museum to see the new things that popped up, which easily helped her mood- especially the dinosaurs. She stopped making so many costumes after things went south for the Mystery Inc; she took leave from her work, which she was allowed. She had enough holiday leave to just have a couple months off, that and she was close to her boss- who understood what was happening. Things were... happening at least. --- As Daphne complained about her carry-on bags, Fae wanted to sink into the ground and disappear. "Look," She said turning to her cousin, "I don't have any carry-on bags, can I take two of hers?" She asked as she looked to the receptionist. She turned back towards Daphne before she furrowed her brow, "Daph, just... Focus on the trip okay? I'm sure we can get these into the luggage bay, you don't really need everything on the trolley right?" She asked with a raised eyebrow. Fae wore a loose fitting Jurassic Park tee that was given to her by Dianna after a marathon that the girls had done; a massively fond memory that she would never forget about. Even if she would never see them, she would at least have a few things to remember them by. She gave a bit of a yawn as she waited for Daph to stop complaining about the carry-on; she was woken up pretty early to leave. She wasn't a fan of being up at the moment, she wanted to be back home tinkering with things but she looked forward for the island. Dianna looked over towards the large tower of bags and she felt her stomach sink. She looked over to Velma with a worried look to check if she had noticed the tower as well. She looked around more, she swore she had seen Fred walking around too, but she didn't trust her eyesight. Maybe she was just missing them more than ever? Who knows. She just wanted her friends back.</s> <\|message\|>Maggie Rogers Having to come from a wealthy family, Daphne was pretty straightforward on the concept of being prepared; in this case, fashion-wise. Having her cousin (and closest friend) along for the ride, she felt that Fae should really be thanking her, considering that this was the perfect getaway for the both of them, and that her stuff was in, at least, two of the bags. The red-head looked at her, after leaning against the receptionist desk, and rolled her eyes, behind her sunglasses. Before she could say anything else, she spotted Velma, standing with Dianna, and immediately expressed disbelief. What is this? Why are they here? She tipped her sunglasses down a little and, as if eyes were felt, the nerd returned her stare. "Velma?", a voice called, appearing in the distance of them. "Fred?", she answered, feeling a bit awkward and confused. Velma looked back at Daphne, who pretended to mind her own business, and didn't just see her former colleague. Right place, wrong time? "Daph?", he called out, showing confusion as well. Having to get over her state, said-red head straightened up at the desk with Fae. "I'm not talking to you guys", she told them, having to make a zipping motion over her mouth, and throw away 'the key'. However, no matter how much she tries to ignore them, Daphne couldn't hold back a demand for an explanation. "What the heck are you doing here?", said-demand came. "Isn't it obvious? We all got the same invite by Emile Mondavarious, the reclusive owner of Spooky Island", Velma answered, although it clearly was something that the rich heiress did not want to hear, judging by how she pouted. "That's not fair!", she complained, stomping her pink-heeled boot on the ground, frowning. "We were gonna solve a mystery by ourselves for the first time ever!" Fred was more amused than agreeable. "How are you gonna solve it yourselves after you get caught?", he asked, wondering what her plan was gonna be, if her danger-prone tendencies got in the way. Daphne put her hands on her hips, straightening up. "I'm a black belt now. I've now transformed my body into a dangerous weapon", she was serious, but like every time, it was taken as a joke by the gang. Fred and Velma chuckled in amusement at her determination. "What? It's true", Daphne insisted, holding onto her pride. "Not to mention that I taught Bella a few things too". "What is this?", another voice commented aloud, in the distance, almost delighted to see the gang back together again, though seemingly. The three of them heard the voice of Shaggy's little sister, and had their attention towards her, as she approached them with a grin; Shaggy following behind. "Looks like we're all going to Spooky Island, man!", he said, having to surprisingly give off a rather happy disposition, even though he was about ready to have a panic attack a few hours earlier. Amazing how much of mentioning a simple food buffet would brighten his spirits!</s> <\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Fae winced when Daphne called her by her first name, uttering out a quiet "It's... Fae." She uttered as she looked at the ground. She hesitated before looking up to everyone else with a weak smile, leaning against the Bags slightly with a sigh. She watched Daphne, Fred and Velma all talk, avoiding a glance towards Dianna- as she did the same. Her head shot up as she heard the voice of the female Rogers, her eyes widened with happiness as she tried to hide it; although by the sudden smile on her face was a massive give away. "Is there something wrong with working in numbers anyway?" Dianna finally piped up as she glanced between the original team of Mystery Inc, finishing her look towards Daphne, "I know things went south, we all know." She continued before she closed her eyes and moved to grip the bridge of her nose, "I feel like we should just... Try and put the past behind us and enjoy this trip." She opened her eyes as she looked between Fae and Maggie. "For the good of old times, for the good of friendship." Fae nodded slightly at Dianna's words, her eyes moving towards Maggie before she watched her and Shaggy. She hesitated before she mouthed 'Where's Scoob?', hoping she could see the words completely. She stayed quiet as everyone else talked, she didn't want to butt in, she just wanted their friendships to be mended, as if it was that easy.</s> <\|message\|>Maggie Rogers "Where's Scoob?", Fred asked them. "Aloha!", as if on cue, the talking dog himself was seen clumsily walking towards the gate in what seems to be a woman's outfit, with a hat and heels, causing quite an amount of attention from the crowd. "They won't allow big dogs on the plane", Shaggy explained. "So, we came up with this", his sister added, with an embarrassed smile. "Clearly, not my best work", this was Shaggy's idea, and all Maggie could do was look away in embarrassment at the scene, though was chuckling on the inside. By the time the talking, disguised dog made his way over, Maggie continued to smile, not having to gather the tension in the air between the three former team members. Once she caught sight of her close friends, she made up by giving a hug to Dianna, before making her way over to Fae. She thought that it would be pleasant, considering that everyone was together in one place, but it was only when she looked at their faces that she managed to recognize the awkwardness and unease, which caused her to eventually frown. Being somewhat of an airhead had its perks: The female Rogers had the tendency to get very carried away with the things and people she enjoyed, to the point where she does not seem to read non-verbal cues. However, give her a second of two, and she'll catch up. "Listen", Velma piped up. "I wouldn't have agreed to come if I knew you were", she said, a croak in her voice, causing Fred and Daph to glance at the ground, already thinking about abandoning the invite, and pretend they never saw each other. Maggie wanted to console the bespectacled young woman, but that was until Dianna decided to speak. "Yeah", Shaggy agreed to the young woman's words. "Think about it for one minute: Mystery Inc reunites. We'll be a team again, just like the old days", he said, hoping that it would help mend some of the tension. The three seemed to be thinking it over, glancing to the ground, but still avoiding to look at each other. That was when the receptionist called for those boarding to Spooky Island. "I'm only in, if they are", Daphne said, not having to feel content on working with her former colleagues. It was at that point, that Fred rolled his eyes, and walked to the entrance of the gate, with Velma reluctantly following after. The red-head moved next, after putting her sunglasses back on. "Come on, Fae"</s>	<\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. At the sight of Scooby, Dianna only let out a small chuckle at the costume. Sure, it wasn't the best, but it was at least a decent effort! "Honestly," she started as she looked towards Scooby and Shaggy, "It's not terrible, I'm proud of you guys." She continued before she looked towards Maggie as she came to hug her, Dianna gave a gentle hug to her before she watched her head over towards Fae. Fae was frozen on the spot for a moment as Maggie got close to her, when she wrapped her arms around her Fae failed to hold back her emotions as she pulled Maggie into a big hug and leaned her forehead against Maggie's head. She had missed this, she had been so alone this entire time. Sure she had Daphne but Daphne wasn't one to talk to her about the stuff the others would; Maggie loved to talk about food, and would listen when she rambled about her mechanic work or coding details, and she and Dianna easily debated either or not they could make a fully articulate monster with the abilities of all three of them. Fae let go of Maggie as everyone started talking again, before everyone slowly just... moved along. Dianna followed after Velma quickly, watching her cousin before she moved to grip her arm gently. "Everything will be okay." She whispered to Velma with a small smile. Fae looked over to Daphne as she told her to follow her. She nodded once as she started to follow, moving to pull the baggage cart along behind her. She sighed to herself, she had a feeling that Daphne would be holding her back from seeing her old friends... The only people she had ever been close to. She moved to fix her shirt awkwardly before she fixed over her sidebag with all of her gadget tools and her current smaller project.</s>
<\|description\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Personality: Fae is incredibly nerdy; a lover of fantasy, sci-fi, music and mystery, it takes a bit to scare her. Known for being cheery, gentle, easy going and playful, she seems to have a minor case of ADHD, particularly shown in her strong, hyper focused affinity for computers and/or anything mechanical. In addition to being overly curious, Fae stays true to the Blake name, often getting herself almost hurt, or into trouble, especially when she is disassembling machines against one's wishes. Though shy around typically large creatures, she absolutely adores animals, especially birds, as they, technically, have a close relation to dinosaurs. Skills & Abilities: -Computer Skills -Taking Apart and Building Machines -Map Making Portrayed By: Whitney Able (adult) Nickname(s)/Alias(es): Dia, Dee, Dye, Anna. Gender: Female. Hair Color: Dark Brown. Eye Color: Deep-Blue. Sexuality: Lesbian. Occupation(s): Archaeologist (formerly), Fashion Designer (full-time), Swim Instructor (volunteer) Affiliation: Mystery Inc. Family: -John Dinkley (father) -Velma Dinkley (cousin) -Dale Dinkley (uncle) -Angie Dinkley (aunt) Dianna is a rather good-looking woman; her hair is always up in a neat Pony-tail or braid, her clothes are often crisp and clean. She is skinny, but not excessively; her body is surprisingly lean due to her swimming. Due to her swimming and her stints with Archeology, her skin is slightly tanned, a few freckles down her arms and over her nose and cheeks. Personality: Dianna was always known her creativity, whilst being the 'Pretty Woman', which easily got her into the Fashion industry. Being dotted over by others from her looks, people often say she was the beauty whereas Velma, whom she cherishes, and never leaves behind, was the brains. Due to this, Dianna is a bit depressed, and a loner, who's very unsure about her own intellect. In addition, even at work, she is curious albeit not that outgoing, with not that many friends, and often left to herself, either seen daydreaming or zoning out, whilst taking notes whenever something comes across her mind. Skills & Abilities: -Clothing and Costume making. -Good Baker. -Knowledge of Dinosaurs. -Strong Swimmer. -Strong Lungs. Portrayed By: Jennifer Love Hewitt (adult)</s> <\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. At the sight of Scooby, Dianna only let out a small chuckle at the costume. Sure, it wasn't the best, but it was at least a decent effort! "Honestly," she started as she looked towards Scooby and Shaggy, "It's not terrible, I'm proud of you guys." She continued before she looked towards Maggie as she came to hug her, Dianna gave a gentle hug to her before she watched her head over towards Fae. Fae was frozen on the spot for a moment as Maggie got close to her, when she wrapped her arms around her Fae failed to hold back her emotions as she pulled Maggie into a big hug and leaned her forehead against Maggie's head. She had missed this, she had been so alone this entire time. Sure she had Daphne but Daphne wasn't one to talk to her about the stuff the others would; Maggie loved to talk about food, and would listen when she rambled about her mechanic work or coding details, and she and Dianna easily debated either or not they could make a fully articulate monster with the abilities of all three of them. Fae let go of Maggie as everyone started talking again, before everyone slowly just... moved along. Dianna followed after Velma quickly, watching her cousin before she moved to grip her arm gently. "Everything will be okay." She whispered to Velma with a small smile. Fae looked over to Daphne as she told her to follow her. She nodded once as she started to follow, moving to pull the baggage cart along behind her. She sighed to herself, she had a feeling that Daphne would be holding her back from seeing her old friends... The only people she had ever been close to. She moved to fix her shirt awkwardly before she fixed over her sidebag with all of her gadget tools and her current smaller project.</s> <\|message\|>Maggie Rogers Velma has always been the most-emotional, so she was actually very glad and grateful that she had someone like Dianna. Probably her closest relative, aside from her own parents, she could always entrust the other like a sister, even though they didn't live in the same house, growing up. However, they always found time to talk on the phone, and bond. From them on, since childhood, they've been sticking to each other by the hip, sharing a multitude of intellectual interests...although Dianna was the most-artistic, out of the two. Giving her cousin a sad smile, she took a deep breath, and proceeded on boarding. Scooby whimpered, as Maggie looked at the ground, having to feel slightly disappointed and saddened, that she couldn't enjoy the moment any longer, before heading onto another grand adventure. However, instead of a heartfelt reunion, it remained the same, since they broke up, two years ago - distant, shallow, and "shoulder-chipped", as if they were complete strangers, all over again...before they met in high school. Shaggy walked next to her, and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, and brought her in to comfort her, by the time they and the dog eventually followed. In the plane, due to the rows having only three seats, most of the gang had to be split up in various directions, although they were all close to one another, and not far away; therefore, it was a packed flight. Internally, they were all pretty glad they didn't have to talk to each other the entire flight. Maggie was seated with Fae and Dianna in one row, in front of Fred and Velma, and next to the row that had contained Shaggy and Scooby. It was complicated to sort out, but it was easy to find everyone, considering that they were all near each other. Reading a book - a cookbook, apparently - that she managed to grab from one of the stores in the airport, Maggie managed to keep her eyes on the pages, despite the loud noise, although she did take occasional glances at Shaggy, who seemed to be talking to a pretty blonde girl, next to him. With her hand still up, in order for the guy in the next seat to get out of her line of sight, Daphne kept her eyes on a magazine, completely ignoring the dude trying to hit on her. It felt good to sit with her close friends, despite the awkwardness - so she decided to break the ice. "So, how are you both doing? Taking it okay?"</s> <\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Dianna smiled back to Velma and continued onto the plane, putting her stuff into the appropriate places before she sat down at the end of the aisle before she noticed that Fae and Maggie would be sitting by her. She held her breath for a moment as she watched them, pulling out a small sketchbook to put on her lap to sketch in, in case the others don't want to talk. Fae let Daphne and the Roger siblings on before her, smiling to the air hostess as she got on and headed to her seat, allowing Maggie to go into the middle of them. She sat down after she put her bags away as well before she sat down at the end, giving a small wave towards Scooby as he sat with Shaggy. Fae almost jumped as Maggie broke the ice to speak, she let out a squeak before she let out a small laugh. Dianna gave a small chuckle as well as she shook her head. "It's been terrible." Dianna started, looking towards Maggie, and then Fae. "I mean, I've been helping Velma as much as I can, taking her out places to keep her mind off things but it doesn't help my mind." She continued as she moved to grip the bridge of her nose. "After it all happened I sort of just... Shut down, I got incredibly depressive, things got... Terrible for me." She admitted before she feigned a small smile, something that she was known for. Fae stopped laughing before she looked into her lap weakly, "I... Know that feeling." She said as her right hand instinctively moved to rub her left wrist, which was adorned with a small cloth bracelet, that covered the majority of her wrist. "It's been... Lonely." She started as well, not looking up from her lap, "Daph took me in, she took care of me. But... nothing just felt right. I never had any other friends, I had co-workers, but I disliked talking about work stuff outside of work." Fae glanced to Maggie with a tilt of her head, "I see you're still the cook you always have been?" She asked with a bit of a grin, trying to brighten the air around them.</s> <\|message\|>Maggie Rogers Maggie, admittedly, did not expect herself to be sitting in between two of her most closest friends. It was a rather surprising thing to find herself in, but she wasn't one to complain about such things. Usually, with complete strangers, she would keep to herself, and let time fly, but...in this case, these two individuals were, like, sisters to her. As of right now, she was listening to their confessions, having to show empathy in her eyes, as she always does. However, she frowned slightly when Dianna pulled off that smile; the same one that would conceal what she was really feeling. Her words were not matching her eyes. She was no expert in Dianna's field, but the female Rogers could tell that, despite the smile, there was a different kind of emotion in the other's eyes; the same kind that Fae was expressing profoundly. They missed the presence of those who accepted them for who they were, and built a solid relationship with. The breakup only discouraged the comfort that they once had, creating an emotional rift in the heart, and ripping it in two. To reciprocate these feelings (and show she wasn't being fooled), Maggie placed a comforting hand upon her arm, before trailing it up to wrap it around her shoulders, so Dianna could lean against her. Rogers just couldn't stand the fact that the ones she deeply cared for, were feeling this way. It seemed that while Dianna was trying, as much as she can, to help her cousin, she wasn't taking the time to take care of herself. Having to be aware of preference, interest, and priority, Maggie respected their paths in life, but then, their own well-being had to be looked after, and she felt it to be right to step in. Looking over at the other girl, having to give her a small smile, and a chuckle. "You should see me. Been working on a new recipe; one of our grandmother's favorites", she said. "Haven't found the time to cook it, but maybe after this trip, you are more than welcome to try it", she grinned, leaving her cookbook in her lap, as she brought over a hand to move a piece of hair out of Fae's face. Hearing a barking sound, she turned to find Scooby barking at a cat that was near him, shortly until the creature made a run for it, causing the talking dog to compulsively give chase. "Sit grandma! Bad grandma! Don't eat the kitty!", Shaggy shouted, causing Maggie to cover her eyes, and groan. This was going to be a long flight, but after a few hours, the plane finally landed. After arriving at the airport, Maggie placed her book back in the bag she stored above her. Apart from Scooby, having to nearly give himself away, she took the time to give comfort to Dianna and Fae, having to tell them stories of her and Norville's endeavors these past two years; at the same time, also admitting her own feelings of loneliness to them. It wasn't the same without them, since their time of bonding seemed to make it look like they knew each forever. However, whether if it became something more, she couldn't really say, even though all three of them shared an interest, and/or felt comfort, around women. Although Maggie has been experimenting with the opposite gender these past few months. Wherever their hearts were, Rogers kept it to herself, and will support them, no matter what. Having to board a ferry, which would take them to the actual resort, Maggie felt the need to side with her companions during the entire journey, while at the same time, she smelled something fishy - not literally. Why invite all of them?</s>	<\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Dianna felt her cheeks flushed before she moved her head onto Maggie's shoulder, she let out a long gentle sigh as her body seemed to suddenly just relax in the female Rogers shoulder. She looked over towards Fae as she spoke before locking eyes with the bracelet around her hand; why was she wearing something like that? Fae had never been one for jewelry, especially any sort of bracelets. Dianna's eyes moved away as Maggie started to talk before she smiled. "I'd love to come over if you'd allow us over." She said with a small smile, "I'm guessing Shaggy isn't... being as strict as the cousins?" She asked, motioning with her eyes slowly to Velma and Daphne, "I mean, Velma has been... Okay, but she's been iffy on allowing me to contact you guys." Fae flinched when Maggie moved to brush a bit of hair out of her face, her face deepened red before she looked away slightly. She noticed herself fumbling with her small bracelet around her wrists; a small bit moved out of the way and revealed what looked to be a small scar. "I... Ended up breaking my old phone." She admitted, which is why she never contacted the other girls, "After everything, after Daph and I got home I kind of just... Blew up at her. We yelled, I cried, She cried... I then locked myself in the bedroom for..." She trailed off before she heard the barks from Scooby. Dianna couldn't help but smiling as she watched Scooby bark at a cat, "He never changes." She said softly, she watched everything unfold before she returned her eyes on Fae's wrist for a moment. As the plane landed and getting to the airport, Dianna glanced towards Velma with a small smile. She offered her cousin a thumbs up before she turned to Maggie and Fae with a bigger smile. She was over the moon to have her friends back in her life, she never expressed it to anyone, but she adored her friends to the point where she felt like it was something more then just friendship. Dianna remembered she had never really been in a proper relationship before, especially not with another woman. Unknown to the other two girls, Fae was feeling the same. She had some girlfriends in the past, but they never turned out into a long term relationship; even more so with her relationships with men. She never had a problem with men, especially since she was a tomboy; she used to be the 'guy' in her lesbian relationships, which she was fine with. The ferry ride made Fae a bit worried, which showed on her face. She had never really been on a boat for a while, she worried about getting seasick. She fiddled with her bracelet and her top more, before Dianna moved and grabbed her wrist gently. She lifted her hand up to her face and looked at the bracelet. Fae stared towards Dianna as she knew what she was trying to look at, before she pulled her hand away to point towards a bird flying across. "Look!" Fae called out with a bigger grin, the Seabird flew along near the boat.</s>
<\|description\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Personality: Fae is incredibly nerdy; a lover of fantasy, sci-fi, music and mystery, it takes a bit to scare her. Known for being cheery, gentle, easy going and playful, she seems to have a minor case of ADHD, particularly shown in her strong, hyper focused affinity for computers and/or anything mechanical. In addition to being overly curious, Fae stays true to the Blake name, often getting herself almost hurt, or into trouble, especially when she is disassembling machines against one's wishes. Though shy around typically large creatures, she absolutely adores animals, especially birds, as they, technically, have a close relation to dinosaurs. Skills & Abilities: -Computer Skills -Taking Apart and Building Machines -Map Making Portrayed By: Whitney Able (adult) Nickname(s)/Alias(es): Dia, Dee, Dye, Anna. Gender: Female. Hair Color: Dark Brown. Eye Color: Deep-Blue. Sexuality: Lesbian. Occupation(s): Archaeologist (formerly), Fashion Designer (full-time), Swim Instructor (volunteer) Affiliation: Mystery Inc. Family: -John Dinkley (father) -Velma Dinkley (cousin) -Dale Dinkley (uncle) -Angie Dinkley (aunt) Dianna is a rather good-looking woman; her hair is always up in a neat Pony-tail or braid, her clothes are often crisp and clean. She is skinny, but not excessively; her body is surprisingly lean due to her swimming. Due to her swimming and her stints with Archeology, her skin is slightly tanned, a few freckles down her arms and over her nose and cheeks. Personality: Dianna was always known her creativity, whilst being the 'Pretty Woman', which easily got her into the Fashion industry. Being dotted over by others from her looks, people often say she was the beauty whereas Velma, whom she cherishes, and never leaves behind, was the brains. Due to this, Dianna is a bit depressed, and a loner, who's very unsure about her own intellect. In addition, even at work, she is curious albeit not that outgoing, with not that many friends, and often left to herself, either seen daydreaming or zoning out, whilst taking notes whenever something comes across her mind. Skills & Abilities: -Clothing and Costume making. -Good Baker. -Knowledge of Dinosaurs. -Strong Swimmer. -Strong Lungs. Portrayed By: Jennifer Love Hewitt (adult)</s> <\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. "You have no reason to be sorry!" Fae blurted out as Maggie apologized for not inviting them, "You had no real reason to know." She said, Dianna giving a nod. The two girls kind of just stayed quiet while they got closer to the island before they saw the island. Fae's eyes suddenly lit up at the sight of everything. "You're not allowed to pull anything apart." Dianna said offhandedly towards Fae, who shot her a childish glare, something that hadn't been done since the break up. Dianna gave a laugh and grinned towards Maggie, everything was so comfortable again; everything just felt... Good. As they walked onto the pier, Dianna wobbled slightly as she stepped off the boat, Fae moving quickly to help her friend with a grin, offering her hand towards Maggie to help her down too. As the crowd slowly gathered around them, Fae slowly slinked closer to her friends in mild fear of the large group of college students. She cleared her throat before her eyes were caught by the statue as they walked closer to it. As the man stepped out from behind it, her eyes lit up and she moved to step forward, Dianna moving to grab her shirt to pull her back. "Gauk!" Fae yelped as Dianna pulled her under her arm with a bigger grin. "She hasn't chanced has she?" Dianna said towards Maggie before she noticed her eyes narrowing. She looked towards the male before she looked him up and down almost quizzingly, "But you're the one who sent the letters right?" She asked after a bit of silence.</s> <\|message\|>Maggie Rogers Maggie allowed Fae to help her down from the boat, although she did kind of lost a little bit of balance, due to being used to the swaying of the ferry. Thankfully, in only a few seconds, Rogers gained what she could of her bearings. She chuckled at the impulsive antics of the other girl, having to find this amusing. Good thing Dianna's reflexes were faster. "...oh, yes!", the owner said, after a pause of what the said-girl asked him, shortly before he signaled them to follow. Maggie didn't hesitate to follow after the man with the rest of the gang. At the same time, she wasn't really sure of what to make of him. He seemed friendly, but the earlier feeling that she had, back on the plane, was lingering. "Now, I am in great need of help. I believe that somebody here is casting a spell upon the students", he explained. "Have you noticed anything different between those arriving, and those departing?", he asked, giving them a moment to observe. Velma gazed at the departing line. "They look like regularly-behaved college students". "Precisely. But they haven't when they arrived", Emile explained. "The ones arriving seem normal; they're energetic and fun. But the ones departing, well...they weren't the same as when they had arrived". As if on cue, in the distance, one of the arriving male students approached a departing female, who he seemed to know for quite some time...until she suddenly assaulted him, surprisingly, in a physical sense. She lifted him off the ground by his shirt, and practically threw him, covering great distance! It was like she had superhuman strength! Maggie watched in disbelief, having to find it a little hard to believe that what she saw was real, and that Mondavarious may be right on his claim. Biting his lip, the owner turned to them. "I'm terrified for the young people here, and I don't want to lose this place. The people coming off of that barge; the people that I love most, they're in great danger. Will you help me?", the owner asked, nearly begging for their help. "I'm gonna solve this one first", Velma declared, already eager. "Not if I solve it first", Fred countered. "You guys are gonna look like total idiots when you're captured, and I'm the one saving you", Daphne said, having to already turn on her heel, and walk towards the hotel; the others not far behind. Maggie looked at the three, as they went their separate ways, frowning once more in disappointment. And so, the tension continued. Just like from two years ago. The mystery itself was intriguing, so Maggie put on her best smile, and turned to the man. "I'm sure you're doing great business here, Mister Mondavarious. We will do what we can here to help", she said, although at the same time, she was quite concerned, regarding the competition between the other three that may happen for the next few days. Shaggy looked at her, having to remain quiet and relaxed, not even bothering to get in the middle of the squabble; just letting it go. He tried to settle things last time, but it ended breaking them all up. So, he found it necessary to not try again, mainly due to his fear of making it worse. Plus, the brother knew that this was affecting his sister, no matter how hard she tried to hide it. Mondavarious was glad to hear their responses, having to sound relieved that he got some help. "This is marvelous! Just marvelous! I guess we should celebrate with a little Spookapalooza", he said. "S-S-Spookapalooza? Ruh-oh!", Scooby exclaimed, having to stutter at hearing the one word, hidden within the name. After she was happy to give the others help with their bags, Maggie found herself sharing a room with them. Due to the later weather turning warm yet humid, she changed into something for the evening: White tennis-shoes, a pair of bell-bottom jeans with a belt, and a red, sleeveless tank-top. The only thing missing, would be her denim jacket. Pieces of her long brown hair was still clipped back, while the rest still draping down to her back and mid-chest. Rogers was just walking into the two-person bathroom, until she spotted Fae standing in front of the sink, looking at her wrist. "You doing alright?"</s> <\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Fae and Dianna both jumped when they watched the woman throw the male, Fae looked to the owner momentarily as he continued to speak before she looked to the others, who started bickering. Dianna turned to Fae momentarily before she looked over towards the rest of the Gang, giving a weak smile towards Shaggy and Scooby as they started. Both Fae and Dianna moved to look to Maggie as she spoke again. "I'd be more than willing to help." Fae said with a nod before she looked to Maggie and Dianna and hooked her arms around theirs. "As long as we work together." She said with a tilt of a head and a smile. "Spookapaloza?" Dianna asked with a tilt of her head as it was mentioned, especially since Scooby repeated it. Once they got into the rooms, Fae made her way into the bathroom to get changed while Dianna and Maggie stayed out in the proper room. Fae had started to change into a slightly more... fancy top, a small button up red-and-black plaid shirt paired with black jeans. She had to wash her hands real quick, and pulled off her bracelet to get under it without getting it wet; she was halfway through when Maggie's words echoed through her ears. "I'm fine!" She said with a wide, awkward smile. She moved to hide her hands behind her back quietly without another thought. Dianna went through her clothes quietly, pulling out a long skirt to put on, with a long off-white t-shirt with a small flower pattern. It was something she had made herself at least. She changed quickly and pulled out a yellow hoodie with red petals over it, with a large red rose on the back of it; It wasn't her best piece, but it was something she was proud of.</s> <\|message\|>Maggie Rogers It made all the more sense for them to change their attires, since they were now in a more tropical setting, instead of the cool, suburban outskirts of their hometown. The island was nicely laid out, financially and theme-wise; it certainly had a vacation-feeling to it, being a resort and all, but everyone in the gang knew that this wasn't the time to treat it as such, especially since Velma, Daphne, and Fred would get too caught up in their ambition to a game of "one-up". However, that didn't mean that they couldn't try to blend, hence the reason why the three girls decided to change clothes, and settle in, before starting their investigation. Fae's instinctual response made Maggie narrow her eyes, and tilt her head. While Dianna was working out her attire, Rogers scanned the other's face, before glancing at the hand she put behind her back. She looked back up at her, before giving an innocent smile, and leaning against the doorway. "You can tell me anything, Fae", she simply said, choosing not to poke around in her business. "Even after two years, we're still here for you; you know that", Maggie added, shortly before turning back to watch Dianna. "Best we look our part in this mystery, ladies. We don't want to miss the Spookapalooza", she said, with a grin. Once they were ready, the trio ventured to the entertainment grounds, where certain performances were being held, with music playing over them. Fire breathers and twirlers - even performers thriving in tribal music. While the events may seem to be entrancing and enticing, the girls were on a mission, and have agreed to meet up at one of the tables near the bar to discuss their findings. Maggie managed to interview a few people, both employee and visitor, but strangely, no one claimed to have encountered anything unusual. That's odd - there were no witnesses, aside from Mondavarious. The taller girl sipped her drink at one of the tables, shortly before spotting Shaggy playing the crane game...and winning a prize for the blonde girl he was talking to, a few hours ago, on the plane.</s>	<\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Fae's smile suddenly dropped when Maggie mentioned she could tell her anything, "I know, It's just... It's been so fucking long." She said, tears starting to slowly bubble in her eyes. Dianna walked in slowly as she heard Fae swear, knowing she barely swore unless she was very angry or stressed. "What's going on-" She started before she saw Fae holding her wrist. "Fae..." She started before Maggie mentioned about the Spookapalooza. "Right, I'm ready." She said as she looked down to herself before looking to Maggie and Fae. Fae had managed to change into dark black skinny jeans with a black tank top, which revealed small cuts and marks over her shoulders and back. "I'll explain things when we get back." Fae said as she readied herself to leave, "Come on." They went together to the entertainment grounds, Fae immediately was entranced by the atmosphere and she stopped in her tracks, allowing Dianna and Maggie to continue onwards. Dianna walked off from the other two girls and started trying to strike up conversation with anyone she could in order to ask if anyone saw anything abnormally; annoyingly no one had anything to report. She looked around to try and find her Cousin but couldn't see her either, and now she was too far away to find Fae or Maggie. Damn Fae and her short stature. Fae snapped back to reality as she was bumped into by Scooby, who was walking around finding places to eat. "Scoob!" Fae said with a small smile, moving to run her hand in the great danes fur, "Seen anything weird yet?" She asked, trying not to panic at the fact she couldn't see over anyone around her. "I don't know where to start.." She uttered to herself, glancing sideways to notice a male watching her quietly before she moved towards one of the fire breathers to just take in the atmosphere.</s>
<\|description\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Personality: Fae is incredibly nerdy; a lover of fantasy, sci-fi, music and mystery, it takes a bit to scare her. Known for being cheery, gentle, easy going and playful, she seems to have a minor case of ADHD, particularly shown in her strong, hyper focused affinity for computers and/or anything mechanical. In addition to being overly curious, Fae stays true to the Blake name, often getting herself almost hurt, or into trouble, especially when she is disassembling machines against one's wishes. Though shy around typically large creatures, she absolutely adores animals, especially birds, as they, technically, have a close relation to dinosaurs. Skills & Abilities: -Computer Skills -Taking Apart and Building Machines -Map Making Portrayed By: Whitney Able (adult) Nickname(s)/Alias(es): Dia, Dee, Dye, Anna. Gender: Female. Hair Color: Dark Brown. Eye Color: Deep-Blue. Sexuality: Lesbian. Occupation(s): Archaeologist (formerly), Fashion Designer (full-time), Swim Instructor (volunteer) Affiliation: Mystery Inc. Family: -John Dinkley (father) -Velma Dinkley (cousin) -Dale Dinkley (uncle) -Angie Dinkley (aunt) Dianna is a rather good-looking woman; her hair is always up in a neat Pony-tail or braid, her clothes are often crisp and clean. She is skinny, but not excessively; her body is surprisingly lean due to her swimming. Due to her swimming and her stints with Archeology, her skin is slightly tanned, a few freckles down her arms and over her nose and cheeks. Personality: Dianna was always known her creativity, whilst being the 'Pretty Woman', which easily got her into the Fashion industry. Being dotted over by others from her looks, people often say she was the beauty whereas Velma, whom she cherishes, and never leaves behind, was the brains. Due to this, Dianna is a bit depressed, and a loner, who's very unsure about her own intellect. In addition, even at work, she is curious albeit not that outgoing, with not that many friends, and often left to herself, either seen daydreaming or zoning out, whilst taking notes whenever something comes across her mind. Skills & Abilities: -Clothing and Costume making. -Good Baker. -Knowledge of Dinosaurs. -Strong Swimmer. -Strong Lungs. Portrayed By: Jennifer Love Hewitt (adult)</s> <\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Fae grinned when Scooby spoke to her, before she watched him head off towards supposed Burgers in the bushes. Burgers in the Bushes sounded a bit off to her before she heard her name being called out. She turned towards Maggie's voice, her face suddenly lit up as she walked over towards Maggie. "Maggie!" She said with a tilt of her head, moving to sit beside her on another bar stool. "Anything of importance yet?" She asked with a small frown. She turned to look around for Dianna, but couldn't see her anywhere- Despite the womans height. Dianna slowly looked around as she was getting deeper and deeper into the crowd, panic started to set in as she was being pushed around the group of people. She bumped into Velma and almost fell over her cousin. "Oh god I'm sorry." Dianna said before she realized who she bumped into before she smiled gently to her cousin. "How's it going Velms?" She asked with a bit of a grin.</s> <\|message\|>Maggie Rogers By the time she saw Fae sit next to her, at the bar, she smiled. She shook her head at her question. "Aside from a few creepy glances, I keep getting the same answer: Nothing. No one has seen anything out of the ordinary; no one has noticed anything weird", she said, almost a little disappointed, before looking through the crowd of people. "It feels like it's hiding in plain", as confused as Rogers was; how could Mondevarious be the only one making this claim, if none of the guests would be in agreement? Everybody and everything seemed to be living in a normal fashion, at least, that's what it looked like. It just didn't seem to make any sense...unless they were looking in the wrong places. She was sipping her drink, before she widened her eyes, and raised her eyebrows, placing it back on the counter. "I did catch wind about some old, abandoned ride. Perhaps we should look there", maybe they didn't cover enough areas yet. "It's...actually not a bad idea", just as she said this, the sound of Scooby running from behind the trees, and in a panicky fashion. "R'onster! R'onster!", he shouted, scrambling into the arms on Shaggy. "A monster?", he asked, before looking in the direction where his dog came. However, instead of a "monster", it was some guy in a giant bunny costume. "Scooby Doo, like, quit goofing around man", he scolded him, putting him down. Maggie frowned, before she too looked back in the direction that the Great Dane ran from. "We should follow the path. Maybe we'll nail ourselves a culprit".</s> <\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Fae frowned at the mention of finding nothing, now that she had the height of the bar chair she looked up and around slowly. She couldn't see Dianna just yet, nor could she see anyone else before Scooby ran over past them to his friend. "Monster?" She asked before she looked over towards where Scooby went before she looked towards Maggie. "We're thinking the same thing." Fae said with a grin before she heard footsteps behind her and glanced sideways towards Dianna. Dianna had heard the commotion before she looked towards Fae and Maggie before she gave a small grin. "Small adventure?" She asked as she moved to stand between Dianna and Fae, instinctively looping her arms into theirs like old times. "Let's go." She grinned even more.</s> <\|message\|>Maggie Rogers After seeing the Great Dane run out from between the trees, Maggie had to admit that she was just about ready to stand up from her seat, out of reflex. Thankfully, it turned out to be a misunderstanding. 'Guess old Scoob saw something different in his own mind again' Maggie mused in her mind, before releasing a sigh of relief, and chuckling to herself. She wasn't aware of Dianna walking up towards them, from behind, as she took another drink from her cup. It was until she felt an arm loop inside her own, in a very familiar fashion. Rogers smiled and nodded, taking one more sip, before getting up, and leading the way towards the pathway that Scooby ran from: Through the forest, the trees, and towards the old castle near the beach. She gave a giggle, and took both of their hands. It was like they were best friends again, sneaking off to find excitement. The place surely has seen better days. A question still stood: Why shut down a ride? What was wrong with it? It could have broken down, but why would it still stand? Maggie looked up at the old abandoned castle, having to widen her eyes, and create a slight gap on her lips. "Wow", she said softly, having to be quite appalled. "I know I shouldn't sound critical or judge-y, but how could a place like this be still standing?", based on her observation, it was true. Again, she didn't how long the structure had been here, but it looked just about ready to collapse, at any time. It just seemed very separate from the other sections they've seen so far.</s> <\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Fae grinned happily at Dianna suddenly linking arms with the two of them, and moved with the other two girls with a smile that was probably the biggest she had ever smiled in the past three years. Fae's cheeks flooded deeper red as Maggie grabbed their hands, her heart raced. Dianna allowed Maggie to lead them along, she grinned like an absolute goofball as they got closer and closer to the old ride. "I agree, it's not judgey at all." Dianna said with a small nod, "Unless it's on the list of being fixed?" Fae's eyes widened at the look of the ride, she stepped forward slowly before Dianna moved to grab her shoulder quickly. "Calm down there boy." Dianna said with a bit of a wink towards her friend, her voice snapping Fae from the almost trance she'd get from unknown machines. Fae blinked before she cleared her throat and looked over to Maggie and Dianna with a bit of a grin. "Sorry, you know how I get with... Machines." Fae muttered slightly before she turned back to the ride before looking around a bit more. "We should check it out, but not stray too far from each other."</s> <\|message\|>Maggie Rogers Maggie placed her hands on her hips, as she examined the place a bit more with widening eyes. She turned back to look at the girls, and gave a smile, eyeing them with amusement, shortly before turning back to look at the structure. "Don't worry, Fae. I'll surprise you with something disassembled later, if you put yourself on a leash", she sing-songed, with a toothy grin, before leading the way, up to the front door, that was, somehow, ajar. That feeling was back, causing Rogers to frown. She expected the others to follow, tailing albeit close, behind her - especially since they were out here in the dark, and possibly, alone. Even as the taller girl walked, Maggie looked around, trying to spot something that would help in their investigation. Being careful in her steps, and trying not to trip, the trio approached the open door. Poking her head in first, Maggie found the 'haunted house'-themed ride a lot worse for wear, on the inside. The interiors were wore through, filled with a number of creepy figures...and voices? She turned her head back to the other two, and pushed the door a bit more, unintentionally letting out a loud squeak, which caused a frightened shout, coming from those voices. By the time it was wide open, the sources were none other than her brother, Scooby, and Daphne. Kind of strange to find them here first, but maybe the girls took the long way, while they took a short cut? There was always a possibility.</s> <\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Fae went to argue with Maggie's words before she heard the part about being on a leash and her eyes widened, cheeks suddenly flooding with red in colour. Fae looked to Dianna, who only grinned at Fae's sudden fluster before they both quickly followed the Rogers female inside. "Voices?" Dianna uttered to herself as she looked around, hearing the sounds inside as they slunk through the doorway. The squeak of the door caused Fae to bounce and ready herself to attack something, but she slowly relaxed after a moment of nothing moving towards her. Dianna looked back to Fae and then looked towards the source of the sounds. "Oh hey!" Dianna called to Scooby, Shaggy and Daphne. "Funny finding you guys here." She continued with a bit of a grin. Fae sighed as she saw her cousin and Maggie's sibling; Seeing Scoob made things even better, she really liked that big doofy dog. Fae moved quickly past Dianna and Maggie, moving over to Scooby and started to smush his face in her hands with a little bit of a grin. "I'm glad we found you guys instead of something more scary." Dianna said with a glance towards Fae, "Hey Fae, did you manage to bring any of those recording Drones that you were working on?" She asked after the idea suddenly flooded into her head. Fae blinked slowly, pulling her hands away from Scooby with a bigger smile. "I mean, if I'm allowed to bring them out," She glanced towards Daphne, "I did bring them, but someone doesn't like me showing off my tech."</s> <\|message\|>Maggie Rogers Scooby closed his eyes, and relished in the affection of the young woman, nearly scratching himself with his back foot. Daphne cleared her throat, when her cousin made that comment, before composing herself. "It's not that I don't want you to use your gadgets, Fae. It's just that there are times, where they don't need to be used", it was like the red-head was being careful in choosing her words - slowly, and out of reluctance; she didn't want to hurt her feelings, after speaking her opinion. But then, the very word "opinion" made Daphne realize that's what she has been doing to her cousin, for the past two years. It came to her, right then, and there; just by looking at the other girl: All those times of Fae, being quieter than normal, trying to convince her on rekindling with their old friends. It tugged her heart. Was she already hurting her feelings, and not being aware of it? What snapped her out of her conscious, was the loud opening of another door, which caused Shaggy to jump into Scooby's arms. Maggie flinched at the sound, but relaxed when she came to see that it was only Fred, making her brother casually descended from the talking dog's grasp. Any more surprises, during this night? "Fred, I found this place first. I call dibs on its clues", Daphne declared to him, remarkably going back to her much-more confident facade. "I've already found some clues", he said. "What?", she, in return, questioned, feeling the approach of defeat. "I've also found a few things", Velma's voice sounded, stepping out of a hallway. "This ride was closed, due to dangerous construction. It's the perfect place for hatching up an insidious plan." "Well, since we're all together, let's split up. Daphne and Fae, search this entrance; Velma and I will take the passage over there; Maggie and 'Anna...keep an eye on Shaggy and Scooby, after you go through that entrance", he gestured to the door on the other side of the room. "Sounds good", Maggie responded, relieved that they were all working together for once. With that, they all split up to their respective positions.</s>	<\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Fae immediately looked towards Fred and Velma as they appeared. She seemed to relax a bit before she looked over to Daphne as she was told to go with her before she nodded and stepped over to her cousin, she looked over towards Maggie and Dianna almost longingly. "I think I have a more of a quiet drone if we need." Fae uttered, moreso to herself, out loud. She moved her hand instinctively to the pocket that held the tiny drone, folded up in order for it to stay hidden. Dianna looked over towards Shaggy and Scooby as she was told to look after them. Baby-sitting duty again, unsurprising to Dianna at this point but she smiled anyway. "You guys okay?" She asked the older Rogers and the Great Dane, she gave an almost motherly smile to them before she looked towards Maggie with a small sparkle in her eyes.</s>
<\|description\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Personality: Fae is incredibly nerdy; a lover of fantasy, sci-fi, music and mystery, it takes a bit to scare her. Known for being cheery, gentle, easy going and playful, she seems to have a minor case of ADHD, particularly shown in her strong, hyper focused affinity for computers and/or anything mechanical. In addition to being overly curious, Fae stays true to the Blake name, often getting herself almost hurt, or into trouble, especially when she is disassembling machines against one's wishes. Though shy around typically large creatures, she absolutely adores animals, especially birds, as they, technically, have a close relation to dinosaurs. Skills & Abilities: -Computer Skills -Taking Apart and Building Machines -Map Making Portrayed By: Whitney Able (adult) Nickname(s)/Alias(es): Dia, Dee, Dye, Anna. Gender: Female. Hair Color: Dark Brown. Eye Color: Deep-Blue. Sexuality: Lesbian. Occupation(s): Archaeologist (formerly), Fashion Designer (full-time), Swim Instructor (volunteer) Affiliation: Mystery Inc. Family: -John Dinkley (father) -Velma Dinkley (cousin) -Dale Dinkley (uncle) -Angie Dinkley (aunt) Dianna is a rather good-looking woman; her hair is always up in a neat Pony-tail or braid, her clothes are often crisp and clean. She is skinny, but not excessively; her body is surprisingly lean due to her swimming. Due to her swimming and her stints with Archeology, her skin is slightly tanned, a few freckles down her arms and over her nose and cheeks. Personality: Dianna was always known her creativity, whilst being the 'Pretty Woman', which easily got her into the Fashion industry. Being dotted over by others from her looks, people often say she was the beauty whereas Velma, whom she cherishes, and never leaves behind, was the brains. Due to this, Dianna is a bit depressed, and a loner, who's very unsure about her own intellect. In addition, even at work, she is curious albeit not that outgoing, with not that many friends, and often left to herself, either seen daydreaming or zoning out, whilst taking notes whenever something comes across her mind. Skills & Abilities: -Clothing and Costume making. -Good Baker. -Knowledge of Dinosaurs. -Strong Swimmer. -Strong Lungs. Portrayed By: Jennifer Love Hewitt (adult)</s> <\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Fae immediately looked towards Fred and Velma as they appeared. She seemed to relax a bit before she looked over to Daphne as she was told to go with her before she nodded and stepped over to her cousin, she looked over towards Maggie and Dianna almost longingly. "I think I have a more of a quiet drone if we need." Fae uttered, moreso to herself, out loud. She moved her hand instinctively to the pocket that held the tiny drone, folded up in order for it to stay hidden. Dianna looked over towards Shaggy and Scooby as she was told to look after them. Baby-sitting duty again, unsurprising to Dianna at this point but she smiled anyway. "You guys okay?" She asked the older Rogers and the Great Dane, she gave an almost motherly smile to them before she looked towards Maggie with a small sparkle in her eyes.</s> <\|message\|>Maggie Rogers Maggie shrugged apologetically towards Fae, before her lips curled into an amused smile, when she noticed the other place her hand in her pocket to pull something far-too-familiar. She kept the thought to herself, knowing that it was Fae's clever nature to be sneaky with her gadgets. By the time she led the way through a hallway, Shaggy and Scooby cautiously yet sheepishly followed behind, having to already feel the nerves of being in such a dark and abandoned place. Of course, like Fae, Dianna wouldn't hesitate on joining her, since the three women were very much inseparable. It wasn't anything new, to the rest of the gang, since Maggie was known for her tendency of playing 'leader' for the other two. In fact, one would think (if anyone knew) that this was probably one of the very things that made the female Rogers so enticing; why Dianna and Fae follow her lead, and why it seemed like they were enamored with her. Was it her courage? Her airheadedness? Her unpredictable nature? Her...beauty? So many theories. She may have missed Dianna looking at her, by the time they turned a corner. Her question towards her older sibling and his dog made Maggie reach back to take his hand, and give it a gentle squeeze, hoping that the gesture alone would help him, after seeing him gulp. It seemed to, considering that she felt him relax. Upon reaching a door, she let go of him, by the time she approached it. Quietly, the female Rogers opened it, and poked her head through; Shaggy following her action, above her, with Scooby whimpering, below them. "It's okay, boy", she said softly, petting him, before taking hold of Dianna's hand, and pushed the structure more. This revealing room seemed to be modeled into that of a dining room, or a kitchen.</s> <\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Dianna watched the three Rogers with a bit of a smirk before she looked through the doorway. She looked around the dining room like area and stepped through, blinking as Maggie grabbed her hand. "Oh wow." She said out loud, "This place is... Gorgeous." She said as she spun around slowly, taking in the room completely. "Spooky," She continued with a bit of a grin, "I love it." --- Fae walked along with Daphne, keeping her eyes up as she looked around. She held her compact Drone in her hand, just in case they needed it for later. "I still think it is a good idea to use them." She spoke under her breath as she glanced down at her hands before she gave a glance towards Daphne, her eyes moved away as Daphne looked back at her to answer. She kept her eyes out for anything out of the ordinary, paying attention to everything she could see. She felt the urge to use the drone, despite everything that Daphne told her not to, it would help, it had a small inferred camera in it to help with the darkness around the two of them.</s> <\|message\|>Maggie Rogers Snickering at the other girl's comment, Maggie walked to a section of the room to look around, having to let go of her hand, in order to get a closer look at the wall. Shaggy and Scooby immediately looked at the spread on the table, covered with food, clearly mesmerized by the sight. She knew it wasn't real but, the real question is, do they know it is fake? Left alone at the entrance of the haunted house, along with her cousin, there was a clear, awkward tension between them. Daphne had been trying to open a door back in the front room, but it wouldn't budge. She really didn't know what to say, in the moment, other than to try and voice out her realization of how much pain she was giving the brunette. Especially, right now. "Come on, Fae. There's plenty of light", she argued, as if she was answering her cousin's thoughts. Giving the door another push, the red-head grunted, but it still didn't budge. Huffing, she decided to put her newly-earned black belt to good use, and gave the door a mighty kick, which seemed to have worked. However, she was unaware of the power around them, mysteriously, turning itself on. All around them, animatronics started to move, creepy laughter and sounds reverberated, and strobe lights starting flashing. Caught off guard in surprise, Daphne was unaware of one of the ride's automobiles, rolling on the tracks, in her direction. Before she knew it, she was picked up, and being dragged through the tunnels, yelling. "Fae!" Meanwhile, just as laughter echoed throughout the castle, one of the floorboards underneath Dianna gave out, representing a trapdoor. Before she could fall all the way through, Maggie was quick to act, grabbing her hand, catching her. Shaggy and Scooby screamed, finding themselves on a wall by...sausage links? "What do we do?!", the talking dog yelled.</s> <\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Fae was quick to notice the power suddenly turning on, moving to reach out to Daphne. "D-Daph...-" She started before she watched the automobiles snagging her cousin. "Daph!" She called out in worry as she was carried off. Adrenaline flooded her body before she started to sprint off after the ride. She wasn't the fittest, but she was incredibly happy she was wearing her sneakers rather than any fancy shoes. Instinctively she let go of her drone and it immediately started to fly quickly after her, buzzing around her like a bee. Fae paid no attention to the animatronics, she knew they caused her to panic. She hated them ever since she was grabbed accidentally by one when she was around 7 years old, becoming older helped with the fear of them attacking her on their own works- but it was still ingrained. She had read too many things about haunted mechanics, too many nights up late reading books, articles and stories anywhere she could. She moved to tap her pockets as she ran, swearing silently to herself for not bringing a faster drone than B.V. "B.V go ahead," She said as she continued to push herself to run, "Please find Daph." The drone spun around her head before starting to fly faster than her and disappeared into the hallways in front of her. "Shit!" Dianna swore as she started to fall, Maggie's hand grabbing hers to pull her out. She pulled herself up with Maggies help and shook herself off before she looked around with a bit of a sneer. "What was that?" She looked to Maggie with a worried look. She glanced towards the boys with a blink as she heard them yell. "Did you hear that laughter?"</s> <\|message\|>Maggie Rogers Maggie had mixed feelings of confusion, fear, and disappointment, especially when chaos ensued. She looked down at Dianna, clinging onto her for dear life. Rogers caught a glimpse of what was below them...a room of pure darkness. There was no way she was going to leave the young woman to that, so with the amount of strength that she had, Maggie began to pull her up, the best she could. Eventually, with their combined strength, they've managed to reach the top...making Maggie crouch down, and continue to pull her up, until she came next to her. At her question, the female Rogers looked up at the ceiling for a few seconds, before hearing the screams of Shaggy and Scooby, who appeared to be stuck on a wall, trapped and surrounded by a bunch of different kinds of meat. Quickly, Maggie raced to them, trying to find a way to release them. Scooby was too much in a panic, while Shaggy tried to stay brave, but not for very long...as he screamed in terror when an animatronic creature came out of the wall, hissing. What were they going to do? They couldn't pull them out, since the fake food on the wall, seemed to be sticking them there. "Come on, Dianna, help me!", Maggie said, trying to keep herself, as she attempted to free the boys. Somewhere, Fred, Daphne, and Velma weren't having any better luck. The red-head was still being dragged by the automobile, clinging onto it for dear life, mumbling to herself. "I'm not helpless; I'm not helpless", she said to herself, unaware of her cousin's drone hovering above her. She was far too focused on what was in front of her and, if it can't get any worse, there was a wall, up ahead, with blades protruding from it. "I am helpless; I'm gonna die!", she realized with a frightened yell, dread falling down on her. Fred and Velma were trying to outrun a few obstacles, but eventually, in what seemed like forever, (although it was accidental) the leader managed to find the switch that seemed to have powered everything. The moment he flipped it, everything stopped; the animatronics going back to their original spots, as if they haven't moved at all, and the automobile that Daphne was stuck on, immediately halted...a few inches away from the wall, that could have sealed her fate. Hearing the buzzing, she looked up to see her cousin's drone, and stared at it, before detaching herself from the car. Tilting her head, she shakily smiled at it. It wouldn't have been a bad idea, after all. By the time everything stopped, Shaggy was in pure happiness. "We made it. We're alive!", he was clearly thrilled, along with Maggie, who laughed with him, until the wall her brother was stuck on, tilted backwards, back to its original position. With a yelp, it dragged the young women, along with it, causing them to fall, next to the owner and his dog. "Whew!", Maggie sighed, just as the wind was knocked out of her, shortly after landing on the ground. "That was weird", the male Rogers commented from next to her, looking at the ceiling.</s>	<\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Dianna stumbled into a standing position as she ran after Maggie, not wanting to be left alone just yet. She managed to get to them as Shaggy and Scooby had gotten out of the meat holding them to the wall. She moved to help everyone up with a weak, almost worried smile. "We alright?" She asked, looking at everyone before something clicked in her head. "Fae." She suddenly started. She looked to Maggie with a worried look, "Fae's scared of robots like the stuff here." She continued almost worriedly. B.V buzzed around Daphne's head for a bit, before darting up and the lights underneath it suddenly it up as it started to take some photos. Footsteps echoed around as Fae rounded the corner and stumbled, "Daph!" She called out, moving quickly and pulling her up into a tight hug. Fae didn't even pay attention to B.V was it buzzed around their heads, continuing to take photos of where they were. "Oh my god I was so worried. I'm so sorry." She mumbled quickly, holding Daphne close to her and almost sobbing into her chest as she did so.</s>
<\|description\|>Ruth Blackwater Age: 23 Race: Appears human Job/title: Heir to the Blackwater corp. Skills: Singing, observant, the rest to be roleplayed. Hobbies: Hanging out at her fave coffee shop, watching storms, singing, seeing operas/shows. Likes: Rain, romance, coffee, wine, reading, scary movies. Dislikes: Rudeness, hypocrites, doing nothing. Appearance: 5"6', waist length red hair and brownish red eyes. She's slender though toned and has gentle and slightly rounded features. Other: Originally from where old England would have been, with the accent to match. Backstory: Ruth is the heir to the Blackwater corp, which is a corporation dedicated to green living, plants, and modern day solutions to sustainability for everyone. She is only still learning about the company and tries her best to ensure she takes in as much information at any chance that it presents itself. Her lineage started so far back that sometimes even her own father, Rudy can't keep track anymore. Ruth's mother died though in an accident at work, though Ruth still doesn't have any clear answers as to what really happened, due to her father never wanting to speak about it. The rest is to be roleplayed.</s> <\|message\|>Nora Anne Huxter The Global Positioning System displays an arrow on the path through Nora's Digital Interfacing Gear, indicating her turn is in 100 meters. As she neared her turn, the client's song wound down and the next started up, blasting the newest, loudest, and most nonsensical of modern music. With a groan, she picked up speed. At least this client isn't inclined to converse about nothingness that is small matters, or isn't asking questions to which the answers are none of their business. Or crying. That may very well be the worst. At least the clients that are trying to get a cheeky make-out session in the back of her aircraft mostly have the good graces to keep it down. The D.I.G. pops up with a warning- Your destination is on the left. Docking the aircraft on the pad, the music cuts out as the client gets a notification of the transit fee. Once the transaction is approved the doors open and the client departs. The music syncs back up with Nora's preferences as the door closes. Flipping off her "On Duty" status, Nora gets clearance for take-off from the Air Traffic AI. With a deep sigh, borne from boredom and hunger, she takes to the skyways. The com beeps with and incoming communication. Accepting the call, a voice takes over the audio in Nora's earphones. "I have a pick up on Broadcoast requesting you. Are you off already?" "I'm on my union mandated lunch break, Tory." This happens all. the. time. Skye-Way Air Taxi is becoming more popular every day and they cannot keep up with staffing. The union means nothing when it means the company will lose a client. What once was a decent job quickly turned into a nightmare, and it's one Nora lives every day. A conflicted sigh comes through the com, and then silence. It wasn't Nora's job to ease their minds over overworking their drivers, and she sure as hell wasn't about the break the silence first. "Look, Huxter, we need you. How about we comp you your lunch? Just get over to Broadcost." "Understood." Nora ends the communication with frustration. Blackwater Corp couldn't get back to her about her application soon enough. Well, she may as well pick up some food and socially accepted chemical dependence on the way. Nora keys in the location of the little gem she recently found on her G.P.S., The Emerald Garden.</s> <\|message\|>Ruth Blackwater Ruth watched out the big glass windows as beads of rain began to form on the outside. She smiled softly to herself as she carefully brought the hot mug of chai up to her lips, sipping it slowly. It went down with ease despite it's heat, and began to warm her from the inside out. Relaxing into the chair, she noticed a young male enter the shop, though he didn't seem too familiar with the place. She felt as though she had seen him around somewhere, but couldn't quite place him in a fully accessible memory. She simply shrugged it off as mistaking him for another. Taking in his features though, she figured he had to be around her age, give or take a couple of years. He seemed to be waiting for something or someone, so Ruth turned her attention back to her chai for a few moments. She closed her eyes this time with the next sip, listening to the bell ring again as another person entered. It sure was busy this afternoon, though she normally didn't get here until closer to four or five. When Ruth opened her eyes again, they shifted from the mug of chai, to the newcomer who had entered. This person looked to be older than Ruth. His hair was slicked back slightly and he had firm but handsome features with facial hair to accent them. He wore business attire with a cape that moved with him. He looked very formal to be visiting the Emerald Garden though, so this made Ruth curious. Her eyes followed him as he moved further into the shop, and he also seemed to be looking for someone. Her eyebrow arched up, though she realized she was probably staring a little too obviously. To distract herself, she dug into her brown leather backpack, finding her wireless headphones and put them into her ears, putting one one of her current favorite songs "Electric Love" by BORNS. She allowed the music to fill her spirit, and bobbed her head along to the beat, taking her time to finish her drink while people passed outside the window.</s> <\|message\|>A-4433-CDNO (Arthur) The Emerald Garden was filling up fast! Since Arthur had entered, a tall buisness man with a cape, two couples, and a group of six apparently having a lunch meeting have walked into the now bustling cafe. Arthur was not at all comfortable about all these variables in his well constructed plan. He ordered a cup of black coffee and slammed it back immediately, placing the mug on the counter in front of the now concerned looking barista. He took a deep breath, and started walking straight towards Ruth Blackwater, all concerns of approaching cautiously now forgotten. He feared he didn't have the time adjust his plans on the fly, he didn't have the leisure to adjust his approach as the variables presented themselves. He had to take action now or risk not having an opportunity later. He arrived at the table Ruth was sitting at. She was absorbed in her music as she stared at the beverage she was holding loosely with her left hand. Her hair covered her eyes on the side Arthur had approached and she didn't see him out of her peripheral vision. After a few seconds of Arthur standing there awkwardly she perhaps finally felt his presence and turned to look up towards him, taking one of her electronic sound suppliers out of her ears and arching her eyebrows in what Arthur recognized as a look of intrigue. This was it. Everything that he had prepared for in the last two weeks had finally climaxed to this moment. He was prepared and ready. The words he was about to say and the things he'd tell her about project Chrysalis would most definitely shape the future for better or worse. He nodded internally (something he was not aware he could to until that moment) and opened his mouth to start his story. "Mhmm Arthur." he mumbled She took her other other electronic ear piece out and turned to face him with a confused look on her face. Before she could say anything though Arthur simply stated he'd be right back and made a run for the restroom. His face felt hot and he felt a little like he would power down like he does when he goes into sentry mode at night. He slammed the restroom door open, locked himself inside and started to laugh hysterically, not quite sure exactly what was going on except that he might be malfunctioning. He needed to tell her, about project Chrysalis! And he would... right after he washed his face and found some words to say.</s> <\|message\|>Talon Karde Talon entered the promenade to a bustling cafe. He thought about grabbing a coffee but they didn't make cappuccino like your supposed to so he thought better and just watched Blackwater staff attending to gardening. It was quite a nice place to sit and watch thought Talon. Still...too much of a commercial setting. He clasped his hands behind his back and watched some of the patrons. It seemed a guy had summed up courage to ask a younger lady out but had chickened out at the last second running to a nearby bathroom. Talon just shook his head. "Gotta have confidence kid". From behind A voice boomed. "Mr. Kaarde, to what do I owe this pleasure?". Talon turned to see Mr. Blackwater himself, flanked by 4 suited protection agents. Big and hulking, no doubt full of chemicals and cybernetically enhanced as was the norm these days. He definitely looked tired to which Talon would take advantage of. As he approaches Talon extends his hand "Mr. Blackwater, I appreciate you taking the time to see me, I will make this quick as I know you are a busy man". Blackwater asks "Quick and Dirty? Or on the level?". "When have I steered you wrong?" Asked Kaarde. "Never and that's how I intend it Talon" stated Rudy, ushering Talon to a table with the younger girl. "Have a seat, and let me introduce you to my daughter Ruth. I'm trying to teach her a thing or too before I forget all I know". "I'll never forget so don't you worry" Talon semi seriously said. "However we will leave that for another time". Talon grabbed Ruth's hand to kiss it gently and said "Pleasure to meet you Ms. Blackwater. My name is Talon Kaarde and it's a pleasure to do business with you!"</s> <\|message\|>Nora Anne Huxter Docking in the landing area, Nora secures the aircraft and buttons up her uniform jacket. The weather is miserable and only seems to get wetter by the minute. Taking her D.I.G. off and placing it on the ledge near the door, Nora hops out and locks up. Her stomach rumbles. After a brisk walk she found herself in the warm sanctuary of the Emerald Garden. This cafe embodies everything Nora came to the Home Planet for. The lush, healthy plants that are meticulously cared for, the peaceful atmosphere, the kind staff, the content patrons, and the intoxicating aroma of coffee, spice, and flowers. As this was her third visit to the cafe she isn't overly familiar with the menu or the staff, but she has yet to be disappointed by either. Looking around and noticing that everyone else seems to be with a friend, lover, or colleagues, Nora suddenly felt silly for being alone. Regret over leaving her D.I.G. in the aircraft washed over with her. At least if she had it she wouldn't have to people watch. Instead, her finger nails suddenly became intensely interesting until it was her turn to order. "Hey there, what can I get you?" The barista, SASHA her nametag read, asked. "Oh, sorry. Can I get the third drink on your menu and the third meal on your menu, to go?" Nora requested, looking up from her nails. "Do you have a mug you would like to use?" Sasha asked as she rung up the total. "No, I'll just rent one." "Sure thing. How did you want to pay?" Nora picked up the ID card that hung around her neck and tapped it to the payment terminal. Rejected. Goddam Tory hasn't loaded her meal allowance onto her staff ID. Nora smiles weakly at Sasha as she pulls out her personal communications device and taps that instead. A receipt flashes on the screen as she shoves in back into her pocket. "Your order will be up on that counter over there." Sasha indicates to the counter further down. Nora heads over to the washroom, a quick pitstop before heading back to the sky. She tries to open to door but it's locked, it must be occupied. Nora goes to stand with the other waiting for their orders.</s>	<\|message\|>Ruth Blackwater Lost in her music for a while, Ruth hadn't noticed the young man walking toward her. Once he approached though, she could feel his aura and presence. She turned her head, taking one of her ear buds out of her ear, watching him curiously. He looked pretty serious, like he had something important to say. Instead of anything of importance coming from his mouth, all he said was "Mhmm Arthur." In response, Ruth furrowed her brow and took out the other ear bud, turning her head slightly in confusion. She opened her mouth to introduce herself, when suddenly he ran off to the public washroom. Only a few minutes later, she heard a very familiar voice, and another that was unfamiliar. Even though she shouldn't feel anxious, she suddenly was as the sound of her father's voice surrounded her. With this, Ruth sat up straight and watched as the unknown gentleman, who she had watched enter the cafe what seemed like only minutes ago, lift her hand and kiss it. She had a tendency to lose track of the time while she was here, so she really didn't know how long she had been sitting there. But either way, that didn't matter. She felt weird that her dad was hanging out at her favorite coffee shop. She didn't want to be rude though, so she smiled a soft smile at the man, listening him to him introduce himself as Talon Kaarde. Apparently there would be some deal going on? She was wary of him and her eyes narrowed just slightly. "Well Dad, it was... So nice to see you here... At my favorite coffee place... But I think I should get going and head home. After all, you told me not to be late tomorrow," Ruth said, trying to sound nonchalant but more than likely failing at that. With this she turned to Talon once more, speaking a little less awkwardly, "It was nice to meet you, Talon. I'm sure I'll be seeing more of you." Ruth grabbed the now empty mug, and turned, walking swiftly away toward the special drop box for used dish ware. She dropped the mug in gently, and glanced around quickly. She noticed a woman with braids seeming to be waiting for her order. With that thought, Sasha had called out the order and Ruth watched as the woman took it. It was then she noticed she was wearing the typical driver uniform. She sighed in relief, moving quickly over to her and tapping her softly on the shoulder. "Hi. Sorry to bother you during your break, but I was wondering if I could get a ride back to my apartment... Like, as quickly as possible. I need to get out of here."</s>
<\|description\|>Ruth Blackwater Age: 23 Race: Appears human Job/title: Heir to the Blackwater corp. Skills: Singing, observant, the rest to be roleplayed. Hobbies: Hanging out at her fave coffee shop, watching storms, singing, seeing operas/shows. Likes: Rain, romance, coffee, wine, reading, scary movies. Dislikes: Rudeness, hypocrites, doing nothing. Appearance: 5"6', waist length red hair and brownish red eyes. She's slender though toned and has gentle and slightly rounded features. Other: Originally from where old England would have been, with the accent to match. Backstory: Ruth is the heir to the Blackwater corp, which is a corporation dedicated to green living, plants, and modern day solutions to sustainability for everyone. She is only still learning about the company and tries her best to ensure she takes in as much information at any chance that it presents itself. Her lineage started so far back that sometimes even her own father, Rudy can't keep track anymore. Ruth's mother died though in an accident at work, though Ruth still doesn't have any clear answers as to what really happened, due to her father never wanting to speak about it. The rest is to be roleplayed.</s> <\|message\|>Ruth Blackwater After listening to the driver's proposition of tagging along for another pick up and drop off, Ruth nodded in agreement. She was sure it wouldn't be too bad, and much less awkward than how she felt currently. Her mind wandered back to Kaarde for a moment. She had a natural curiosity about him, but also a professional one. If she was going to eventually be in charge, she would need to know who was good people and who wasn't. Ruth's thoughts were cut short though as the sound of glass breaking and rock smashing filled the cafe behind her. She turned her head slightly to try to look over her shoulder, but was quickly hit with pieces of rock and cement against her back and the side of her head, causing her temple down to her jaw to be torn open on the right side of her face. She was shoved forward and toward the ground at the impact, and the last thought to go through her mind was of her dad. After that was blackness. The blackness wasn't necessarily scary, but it wasn't exactly comforting. If this is what death was like, then Ruth was sure it could be much much worse. Though, she wasn't entirely sure that this was really death perse. She felt somewhat aware, though not conscious. Come on Ruth, you need to wake up she thought to herself. She struggled to get herself to open her eyes, and when she finally did, she realized the searing and throbbing pain in her face and head. The rest of her body felt fine, but stiff. She groaned slightly, trying to gather where she was, but it was still pretty dark. She could tell however that she was seated behind someone. Her thoughts shifted again to her dad, and an audible sob escaped her lips. She barely even noticed that the room they were in, was flying. Ruth tried to wipe the tears from her eyes, only to have the back of her hand smeared with blood. She could smell it as her arm shifted back down to her lap. She wondered how bad the injury was. It hurt, yes, but she wouldn't know until she could see herself. She felt the person move to be more in front of Ruth, and then the sound of a gun cocking filled the little room. "What happened? Where are we? And is my dad okay?" Ruth stammered, her throat tight with the threat of more tears.</s> <\|message\|>Talon Karde Talon had passed out before the individual addressing his wounds could finish. He had lost alot of blood and despite his fight or flight mechanics kicking in was not prepared for anything less than anti-grav in a sensory deprivation capsule. During the time he was blacked out he dreamt of soft white sand beaches and a lush jungle cruise. His dream state was awoken by a jolt to his sternum and the flash of lights until all went quiet again. He squinted his eyes open to discover that he was face down on the ground and had a mouthful of dirt. He used his one hand to push himself up to his feet and steadied himself on the disposal truck as he caught his breath. He looked up to see the driver fumbling to open a storage compartment. Talon tried to stumble towards the individual leaving a bloody streak on the side of the truck. His ears still ringing he saw the storage door open. The driver began talking and had his hands up but for what reason Talon did not know nor could understand. He slowly kept creeping towards the driver and began to get weaker. He reached for his belt and keyed several buttons on it for an emergency call to his home. He stumbled missing a step as the blood loss began to overtake him and he reached out to grab hold of the individual however he dove to the ground which put Talon on a collision course with the ground. He landed in front of the storage door with no arm to brace himself. The pain sent a shock through his body, but before he passed out once more he was able to see a lone figure rolling and then running away with what seemed inhuman speed.</s> <\|message\|>A-4433-CDNO (Arthur) Arthur stared at the handgun in Nora's hands. It was small but lethal and he was hard to miss at this range. He looked Nora in the eyes, raised his hands to be level with his ears, palms facing outwards as a sign of non aggression and started to speak. "Hello. There has been a terrible tragedy inside the Emerald Garden." "This recycling truck that you are sitting in drove through the shop front and plowed into the back wall destroying most of the building. Then two men entered the premises with laser rifles and started gunning down the survivors." He paused letting her take in this information before continuing. "I managed to save you and two others from the gunmen however the gentleman on the other side of the truck is in very serious condition and needs medical attention. The authorities will be here soon and it is imperative I do not get detained or questioned by them." "After your investigation by the cops if you and the other two would like to meet me at the Maxwin Bird Sanctuary I will do my best to answer your questions and further protect you from your assailants, as I do not believe they will be happy there are witnesses to their crimes." And just like that Arthur dove to the ground, landing flat on his chest and rolling under the truck to the other side trying to evade a potential gun shot. There was none as Arthur lept to his feet and started sprinting away from the truck and approaching sirens. It didn't take long before he disappeared into the forming crowd successfully escaping the survivors, and the local authorities.</s> <\|message\|>Nora Anne Huxter The young man disappeared from view in the blink of an eye. Did he say the authorities are on their way? Shit. Nora hopped down from the container and felt her body complain as she made contact with the ground. She turned around and offered her hand to the young woman who was still in the container. "I don't know about your dad, but I promised to get you home. Everything else can wait. Come on." Nora extended her hand in an offer to help her down. The woman, Ruth, took the hand and climbed out. "Go climb in." Nora nods towards the front of the vehicle before making her way to the man laying on the ground. Under the blood, dirt, and missing arm, the man wore fancy clothes and seemed well-groomed. Nora crouched down beside him and felt for vitals. He needed medical attention, and the sooner the better. It looked as though some first response medical care had already been administered, but she wasn't sure it would hold up for very long. Nora glanced towards the vehicle. She couldn't stick around to deal with the authorities. As an immigrant, she couldn't afford any trouble. She also couldn't go back on her word to get the girl home. As a trained soldier, she couldn't bring herself to leave someone behind. And then there were the civilians that were beginning to gather... Fuck fuck FUCK fuck fuck-fuck. Another quick glance to the vehicle and her mind was made up. One deep breath and Nora began to collect the man. She draped him around her shoulders in an effort to distribute his weight easier, but pain shot through her senses. From midback up to her occipital, causing flashes of colorful lights to momentarily blind her. Another deep breath, which only caused more pain. Fine, shallow breathes it is. With deliberate steps, Nora brought the man to the passenger side. "Scoot over," Nora instructed the woman. Sliding the man off of her shoulder and into the passenger seat, "hold him upright." Nora slammed the bent door closed and rushed around to the driver's side. Where the cab attaches to the airship attachment is an emergency release mechanism. Can't go wrong with classics, I guess. How much longer do I have before first responders are on the scene? I need to go faster. Nora used her Personal Communications device to quickly override the safety measures and release the cab. Vaulting into the driver's side and engaging the Ground Delivery mech, Nora could feel the wheels engage. Starting the cab engine, she revved up and felt the front cab detached from the ship compartments. With the second rev the cab came free. "Okay, crew, hang on." The forward motion was off balance and clumsy, but it was forward movement nonetheless. In just a few moments they were off of the field and onto the streets. This is going to gather too much attention. We need cover. We need medical attention. Nora flicked her eyes to the right to see the young woman holding the man up and trying to stabilize him against the jerking motions of the vehicle. Another wave of regret overcame Nora for leaving her D.I.G. in the goddam airship. Where are we? On the side of the road up ahead is a big blue H sign. Perhaps Providence was real, after all. With a little bit of common sense and helpful road signs, Nora found the district's hospital. "Search his pockets for any identification, we're almost there." Turning into the ground level Emergency Intake entrance, Nora did a visual sweep of the area. Was there somewhere with the poorest visual coverage from surveillance? Medical professionals started to open the doors and bring out stretchers. Someone must have seen the vehicle and made assumptions. Nora came to a stop just short of where the medical professionals were. Shrugging off her uniform jacket, she handed it to the young woman. "I will drive you home in five minutes. Any more than five and you might need to find your own way. Put this on and wait outside the closest off duty skyship." Without waiting for a response Nora slid out and went around to confront the fast approaching crowd. Please let her be clever enough to get away before I open this door. "Help! I have a man who needs emergency attention!"</s>	<\|message\|>Ruth Blackwater Ruth could hear sirens approaching and she could feel the tension building in the small space. The driver then hopped out of the contained area and offered her hand to Ruth, who took it thankfully, following out of the vehicles storage space. "Go climb in." the woman said, and Ruth followed the instructions. She moved stiffly toward the cab of the truck and got in, moving into the middle after only a few moments. The driver then brought an extremely injured Talon to the side and Ruth opened the door and helped her put him in the seat next to her. Ruth held him up the best she could and found his I.D. She handed it to the woman and glanced at her face for a long moment while she pulled into the Hospital medical emergency bay. Medical staff were already on their way out with stretchers, their expressions worried but professional in the same instance. Before exiting the vehicle the woman shrugged her jacket off and handed it to Ruth. She took it and slipped it on easily. She waited for a few moments while the woman gathered the attention of herself and Talon and then slipped out of the truck to find an off duty skyship. She tried to ensure her expression was casual, but kept her head down. The man who seemed to have flew them to the field had said something about the Maxwin Bird Sanctuary, but she wasn't sure if it was real or not. It definitely wasn't said to her directly if it was said at all. On her watch she glanced at the time. It had been three minutes. Anxiety bubbled up into her throat and she tried to hold back tears. "She still has two minutes... Relax Ruth..."</s>
<\|description\|>Nora Anne Huxter Age: Was 23 when I was put in cryo for 15 years. I have been out of cryo for 2 years, so 25. Race: Human Job/Title: -Former Exploration & Military Pilot for the A.R.K. Space Station. -Current Sky Taxi driver -Free-lace fiction author is spare time (mostly fan fiction...) Skills: Pilot, aircraft mechanics, close quarters combat, air warcraft, navigation Hobbies: Writing, reading, long walks on the beach Likes: Fairytales! Talking with my family. Fresh foods. Dislikes: People telling me how to do my god damn job! Appearance: Dark hair that has natural white/silver streaks in it, but I keep them dyed fun colors. Hair is kept in braids at all times, typically two braids on my time and a french braid while working. Standing at 5'5" you wouldn't imagine I am very imposing, but with a resting bitch face and killer skills, I don't have a lot of strangers approaching me. Weird, I know. Uhh, my eyes are hazel. I'm sorry, how much detail do you really need on this application? Other: Fun fact! Due to the specific environmental conditions around the A.R.K., anyone born aboard has some amount of pigment loss. Most common is lack of pigmentation in the hair, but it has presented itself in some pretty unique ways. It is also speculated that it promotes the male gene, which is why the birth rate of natural born females is so low. A.R.K. has taken to growing them in artificial wombs withing the last 75 years. Backstory: Born to Hugo and Irene Huxter, third generation A.R.K. Mechanics (heavy duty and digital interfacing, respectively). Only daughter of four, my aptitude tests all pointed me to the pilot program. After completing my mandated and technical training I joined the A.R.K. Force, and took to it the way a bird is meant to. When I was twenty I began a long distance relationship with a man from Theonia who made me feel like the princess I always imagined I was. He told me fanciful stories of the beauty and preservation of Theonia, it's natural bounty. I fell in love, not only with him but with his home. A year later I started the process for my immigration to Theonia, ready to reintegrate into the Home Planet. He promised he would wait for my arrival, but I guess 15 years is too long to wait. When I came to a month before arrival, to allow for physiotherapy and integration, I found an electronic communication from him, only three years after I had departed, that he had moved on. He is now married with two children. The bastard. I mean, it's been 13 years for him, but it was fresh for me. I tried to branch out, but was called back to piloting in the position of a taxi service. I would say integration has been difficult up to this point, and I have missed a lot of milestones for my family and friends on the A.R.K. Which brings me to why I am applying to work for Blackwater Corp. As an exploration pilot. I believe that the beauty and preservation of this planet is my calling here, and I look forward to working with you. Thank you for considering my application, Nora A. Huxter</s> <\|message\|>Ruth Blackwater After listening to the driver's proposition of tagging along for another pick up and drop off, Ruth nodded in agreement. She was sure it wouldn't be too bad, and much less awkward than how she felt currently. Her mind wandered back to Kaarde for a moment. She had a natural curiosity about him, but also a professional one. If she was going to eventually be in charge, she would need to know who was good people and who wasn't. Ruth's thoughts were cut short though as the sound of glass breaking and rock smashing filled the cafe behind her. She turned her head slightly to try to look over her shoulder, but was quickly hit with pieces of rock and cement against her back and the side of her head, causing her temple down to her jaw to be torn open on the right side of her face. She was shoved forward and toward the ground at the impact, and the last thought to go through her mind was of her dad. After that was blackness. The blackness wasn't necessarily scary, but it wasn't exactly comforting. If this is what death was like, then Ruth was sure it could be much much worse. Though, she wasn't entirely sure that this was really death perse. She felt somewhat aware, though not conscious. Come on Ruth, you need to wake up she thought to herself. She struggled to get herself to open her eyes, and when she finally did, she realized the searing and throbbing pain in her face and head. The rest of her body felt fine, but stiff. She groaned slightly, trying to gather where she was, but it was still pretty dark. She could tell however that she was seated behind someone. Her thoughts shifted again to her dad, and an audible sob escaped her lips. She barely even noticed that the room they were in, was flying. Ruth tried to wipe the tears from her eyes, only to have the back of her hand smeared with blood. She could smell it as her arm shifted back down to her lap. She wondered how bad the injury was. It hurt, yes, but she wouldn't know until she could see herself. She felt the person move to be more in front of Ruth, and then the sound of a gun cocking filled the little room. "What happened? Where are we? And is my dad okay?" Ruth stammered, her throat tight with the threat of more tears.</s> <\|message\|>Talon Karde Talon had passed out before the individual addressing his wounds could finish. He had lost alot of blood and despite his fight or flight mechanics kicking in was not prepared for anything less than anti-grav in a sensory deprivation capsule. During the time he was blacked out he dreamt of soft white sand beaches and a lush jungle cruise. His dream state was awoken by a jolt to his sternum and the flash of lights until all went quiet again. He squinted his eyes open to discover that he was face down on the ground and had a mouthful of dirt. He used his one hand to push himself up to his feet and steadied himself on the disposal truck as he caught his breath. He looked up to see the driver fumbling to open a storage compartment. Talon tried to stumble towards the individual leaving a bloody streak on the side of the truck. His ears still ringing he saw the storage door open. The driver began talking and had his hands up but for what reason Talon did not know nor could understand. He slowly kept creeping towards the driver and began to get weaker. He reached for his belt and keyed several buttons on it for an emergency call to his home. He stumbled missing a step as the blood loss began to overtake him and he reached out to grab hold of the individual however he dove to the ground which put Talon on a collision course with the ground. He landed in front of the storage door with no arm to brace himself. The pain sent a shock through his body, but before he passed out once more he was able to see a lone figure rolling and then running away with what seemed inhuman speed.</s> <\|message\|>A-4433-CDNO (Arthur) Arthur stared at the handgun in Nora's hands. It was small but lethal and he was hard to miss at this range. He looked Nora in the eyes, raised his hands to be level with his ears, palms facing outwards as a sign of non aggression and started to speak. "Hello. There has been a terrible tragedy inside the Emerald Garden." "This recycling truck that you are sitting in drove through the shop front and plowed into the back wall destroying most of the building. Then two men entered the premises with laser rifles and started gunning down the survivors." He paused letting her take in this information before continuing. "I managed to save you and two others from the gunmen however the gentleman on the other side of the truck is in very serious condition and needs medical attention. The authorities will be here soon and it is imperative I do not get detained or questioned by them." "After your investigation by the cops if you and the other two would like to meet me at the Maxwin Bird Sanctuary I will do my best to answer your questions and further protect you from your assailants, as I do not believe they will be happy there are witnesses to their crimes." And just like that Arthur dove to the ground, landing flat on his chest and rolling under the truck to the other side trying to evade a potential gun shot. There was none as Arthur lept to his feet and started sprinting away from the truck and approaching sirens. It didn't take long before he disappeared into the forming crowd successfully escaping the survivors, and the local authorities.</s>	<\|message\|>Nora Anne Huxter The young man disappeared from view in the blink of an eye. Did he say the authorities are on their way? Shit. Nora hopped down from the container and felt her body complain as she made contact with the ground. She turned around and offered her hand to the young woman who was still in the container. "I don't know about your dad, but I promised to get you home. Everything else can wait. Come on." Nora extended her hand in an offer to help her down. The woman, Ruth, took the hand and climbed out. "Go climb in." Nora nods towards the front of the vehicle before making her way to the man laying on the ground. Under the blood, dirt, and missing arm, the man wore fancy clothes and seemed well-groomed. Nora crouched down beside him and felt for vitals. He needed medical attention, and the sooner the better. It looked as though some first response medical care had already been administered, but she wasn't sure it would hold up for very long. Nora glanced towards the vehicle. She couldn't stick around to deal with the authorities. As an immigrant, she couldn't afford any trouble. She also couldn't go back on her word to get the girl home. As a trained soldier, she couldn't bring herself to leave someone behind. And then there were the civilians that were beginning to gather... Fuck fuck FUCK fuck fuck-fuck. Another quick glance to the vehicle and her mind was made up. One deep breath and Nora began to collect the man. She draped him around her shoulders in an effort to distribute his weight easier, but pain shot through her senses. From midback up to her occipital, causing flashes of colorful lights to momentarily blind her. Another deep breath, which only caused more pain. Fine, shallow breathes it is. With deliberate steps, Nora brought the man to the passenger side. "Scoot over," Nora instructed the woman. Sliding the man off of her shoulder and into the passenger seat, "hold him upright." Nora slammed the bent door closed and rushed around to the driver's side. Where the cab attaches to the airship attachment is an emergency release mechanism. Can't go wrong with classics, I guess. How much longer do I have before first responders are on the scene? I need to go faster. Nora used her Personal Communications device to quickly override the safety measures and release the cab. Vaulting into the driver's side and engaging the Ground Delivery mech, Nora could feel the wheels engage. Starting the cab engine, she revved up and felt the front cab detached from the ship compartments. With the second rev the cab came free. "Okay, crew, hang on." The forward motion was off balance and clumsy, but it was forward movement nonetheless. In just a few moments they were off of the field and onto the streets. This is going to gather too much attention. We need cover. We need medical attention. Nora flicked her eyes to the right to see the young woman holding the man up and trying to stabilize him against the jerking motions of the vehicle. Another wave of regret overcame Nora for leaving her D.I.G. in the goddam airship. Where are we? On the side of the road up ahead is a big blue H sign. Perhaps Providence was real, after all. With a little bit of common sense and helpful road signs, Nora found the district's hospital. "Search his pockets for any identification, we're almost there." Turning into the ground level Emergency Intake entrance, Nora did a visual sweep of the area. Was there somewhere with the poorest visual coverage from surveillance? Medical professionals started to open the doors and bring out stretchers. Someone must have seen the vehicle and made assumptions. Nora came to a stop just short of where the medical professionals were. Shrugging off her uniform jacket, she handed it to the young woman. "I will drive you home in five minutes. Any more than five and you might need to find your own way. Put this on and wait outside the closest off duty skyship." Without waiting for a response Nora slid out and went around to confront the fast approaching crowd. Please let her be clever enough to get away before I open this door. "Help! I have a man who needs emergency attention!"</s>
<\|description\|>Name Race \| Age \| Sex Appearance Personality Background * Profession (Optional) * Class * Heritage History (Optional) Motivation Capabilities Attributes Combat [0/1] * * * Intelligence [0/1] * * * Charisma [0/1] * * * Health [0/1] * * * Faculties [0/1] * * * Agility [0/1] * * * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * * * Money For simplicity's sake, we're doing 3 types of coinage. Royals (Gold), Lordlings (Silver), and Commons (Copper). They each measure 20 of the previous coinage. 20 Lordlings makes a Royal and 20 Commons makes a Lordling. You will roll for your currency. You will roll a D10 for Royals, D20 for Lordlings, and D100 for Commons. Languages Rannic Ulfsson Human (Thaegar) \| 27 \| Male Appearance Rannic stands at an impressive height (6'3), with a powerful physique and callused hands made for combat. His mane of hair is as brown as a wild oak, his eyes as green as leaves. He's not unhandsome and generally sports a robust beard, had he not shaven once he entered the Blackwood. His adventures in the Northern Marches had destroyed much of his ancestral armor, so he now wears what banded plate and leather he can to maintain protection. With large hands, long legs, and broad shoulders, he makes an imposing figure to face down in combat. Personality Rannic is honorable and blunt, though he has a streak of free spirit from having been separated from his home for the last four years. Though he can be a bit gruff, he's earnest enough and tends to keep his word. As with most Thaegars, you'll find him a terrible enemy or a loyal friend given enough time to make his aquaintence. He values nothing more than to be implemented back into Thaegar society, though he's become comfortable with his lot in life. Gold and glory are fine companions for the young man, but it will take more than that for him to forget his father's word or his oath to his the thane. Background * Professional Soldier (Optional) * Lower Class * Son of the Blacksmith and Basket Weaver History (Optional) Motivation Rannic seeks to slay a Dragon or Giant, and to return either head to his clan for recompense of his previous crimes. Capabilities Attributes Combat [1/1] * Two Handed Sword [2] * Unarmed [1] * Two Handed Blunt [1] * Two Handed Cleave [1] Intelligence [1/1] * Legendry [1] * History [1] * Charisma [1/1] * * * Health [1/1] * Strength [2] * Constitution [1] * Toughness [1] * Stamina [1] Faculties [1/1] * Resolve [1] * Perception [1] * Agility [1/1] * Running [1] * Outdoors [1] * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * * * Money 3 Royals, 7 Lordlings, 20 Commons Languages Drimgoth, Northern Tongue</s> <\|message\|>Name "So anyway, what are you two doing going up this river anyhow?" The lad asked, having talked their ears off the last hour. Moving up river was tiring work, but this boy had rowed and talked, rowed and talked, rowed and talked. Perhaps it was the fact he like as not did this every day as a living, but it was still a sight to see. It was almost impressive for a dwarf too. The Grannic River was a long one, snaking up from the peninsula of the Seven Cities and the Nevrazym Dale all the way into the bosom of the Blackwood, or so the longshoreman had said back in Cavlarck. "'Nothing but trouble is what you'll find in the Blackwood' my paw always says." The boy declared, then thought for a moment. "Except for trees. There's a whole lot of trees. And monsters too...probably some towns as well. "Shut up, boy," The second of the rowers grunted. He was a dark man, with an almost dwarf-like beard and corded muscles. His back was to the two travelers, and he rowed in silence save such lovely comments as that. Luckily it seemed they knew their business, keeping the boat afloat and keeping the goods the traveler's had stored behind steadied. Attached to the small boat was a strange raft; a contraption with wooden bars that stood up like some cage, carrying their cart, supplies, and even the donkey was seemed too busy lapping at the water through the bars to be afraid. The trees had grown notably darker as they rowed further northwards, away from the Sea of Swords and the Seven Cities so rife with intrigue and chaos. Good money to be made there, and work. But you were as likely to have it or your craft confiscated by a rival city. The Blackwood had little in the way of competition, word had it. Now the boat began to turn ever slightly toward the shore, and the two rowers perked up as if they had arrived at a destination, though there were no markings and little in the way of space to make landfall. @Tony Pajamas --- Hundreds of miles to the north, another unlikely pair were making their way south through the foothills of northern Andred. Grim were they, and fell to look upon. Much like the Northern mountains they had descended from. Torsten had passed through southern Norgard, past the Halls of the Jotuns in the Hruntigmir Mountains, otherwise known as the Frostfells, and made it into the Northern Marches where he met Vanhel, realizing they both had a common destination. It has now been two weeks since they passed Umber's Cairn, right at the beginning of spring when the snows have finally melted. Staying away from most Andredian villages and settlements save for the occasional waystation, their journey had finally bore fruit for the two companions. For they had passed a simple glen to find themselves face to face with two massive trees, darker in hue and far more robust than any trees they had come across for weeks. A northern relic in the soft, southern lands of the 'civilized' nations. Perhaps you see it as a welcome sight, or perhaps you feel as if the stories you sought to find out about the legends of the forest were true. Whatever the case may be, the treeline stood as a great wall daring them to enter, with the two large oaks a veritable gateway into the realm of grimdarkness. As the two dare approach, they are greeted by a strange revving, stuttering sound. An echo that belies the direction they known to listen to, though they soon know the direction. A strange shape coalesces around the 'gateway' before their eyes. As it forms, the two see it is truly large! It looks to be some form of boar-like creature, though instead of two tusks along its mouth, it has three horns along the center of its snout, like a strange porcine whooly rhinoceros. Torsten and Vanhel would only be able to reach it's shoulder if they stood next to the ginormous beast, and though it does not seem to be antagonistic, it grunts and smells the grass just at the entrance to the wood they seek to enter. Pawing the ground with its hooves, it seems content to nibble upon the foliage just before them. Perhaps they could find another way in, off a beaten path to the east or west? Perhaps the beast would bring good meat or make a fine trophy... or perhaps it is best to let sleeping pigs lie. @Gunther</s> <\|message\|>Mari Balance: 1d8+1 = 5 (4 + 1) Intelligence: d8 = 4 Mari missed the sound of the sea. It was something she'd taken for granted, born and raised near the water as she always had been, and now that it was gone, the world seemed all too uncomfortably quiet. This forest would test her, she knew; Asherah had promised as much, and to become a Daughter of Rán, Mari would have to overcome adversity. She needed to prove she was one of them in heart and mind before she could be granted any gifts. She stopped at the edge of the gulley, pushing auburn hair from her face. Getting around this would take hours, and Mari wanted to make it deeper into the forest well before darkness fell. She had a passing knowledge of world geography, but without help in this forest she would be hopelessly lost. People lived in the darkness of the wood somewhere, she just had to find them, and perhaps see if a deal could be made. That meant getting down and through the gulley. Mari noted the very large, very dead thing down there, but whatever felled it was nowhere to be seen, no tracks she could identify at a distance. The smell was strong, though. Best not to linger here any longer than I have to. She started down carefully after securing her pack and her shield, making quick work of the descent. She almost slipped once, but caught herself and kept her feet, setting foot in the basin. Her boots sank into the mud beneath the shallow, filthy water, but she made sure to keep moving, finding that the muck wasn't severe enough to threaten her. The creature was an ogre, she guessed, judging by Asherah's descriptions from stories she'd told. Goddess, the old woman had a lot of stories. The ogre looked to be a few days dead at least, and the smell grew even worse as she passed. With no intent of sticking around to end up beside the dead ogre, Mari began the work of climbing up the far side of the gulley, finding it no more difficult than the descent. It wasn't the warmest welcome into the Blackwood, but Mari had already steeled herself for the worst. Whatever the Watery Widow intended to throw at her, she would face it.</s>	<\|message\|>Name Gundarogs: These creatures are one of two subspecies of 'Rog'. The normal, forest dwelling rog are slightly larger, with sallow or green skin. Gundarogs, however, are their underground dwelling counterpart, skin black as if burned and faces horribly twisted. Gundarogs stand around 5 feet tall, with gangly but strong limbs, and weigh around 100 pounds out of their twisted black iron armor. Hideously cruel and malicious, Gundarogs infest mountain holes and the deeps beneath the earth, ever searching for metals to twist into their crude but deadly weapons and armor, but more importantly for buried demons and forgotten gods to worship. They enjoy torture and feasting upon hapless humanoids, but they abhor light, particularly the sun. The fact that they are here is an indication to a clue about the Blackwood proper, for even under such gloom they would not make their homes above ground. Something about the forest is even darker than it appears, or perhaps they were called? Perhaps both? The creature squealed in a piercing wail and dropped the scorpion, looking very akin to a cockroach that found a meal repulsive to its sensibilities. The scorpion scuttled away into the brush, making a twisted path through a mixture of bushes and fallen boughs towards Kyiriniae'aea, suddenly forming back into the very confused baby not half a minute later. Such spells lasted a longer time with more mundane and well understood beasts like sheep and chickens. The child was now looking around curiously, unable to fathom what had just occurred. Behind him, the four Gundarogs had not yet grabbed their weapons, which from where Kyiriniae'aea stood, she could see they were barbed spears and cruel stabbing swords. Rather than screech further or run, they scuttled a few meters away from the fire and watched it fearfully, whispering to one another in their strange, guttural tongue. The flame roared black before their eyes, unyielding from Kyiriniae'aea's cantrip. It seemed they took the fire as an omen, with the loss of their meal via polymorph simply a further sign as to an entity that had chosen to speak with them. There was no telling what Gundarogs would do if they saw a Silver Elf, as most see them attack when others trespass upon their mountain caverns rather than the creatures making a home in the woodlands. When it became apparently the fire wouldn't harm them, they approached closer and gripped their spears, raising them into the air like primitive men or apes, beginning to chant a string of words that sounded like a strange rhyme. The child began to cry once more at the Elf's feet, though the things had yet to hear past their chanting. --- Mari had ascended without error, just in time to make it under the cover of the thick trees when she heard a strange noise in the distance. She found a good tree to hide behind among the myriad of elms and birches, just as she heard an incredibly loud warscream from some winged monstrosity that swooped in from above. It looked twenty feet long from the tip of its tail to it's snout, very dragon-like in appearance save for its brown ridged scales, clubbed tail, and the fact it only had four appendages with small clawed hands at the top of its vast wings. It was terrifyingly mesmerizing to watch it drop onto the ridge Mari had just traversed like a strange bird, clinging to it before it let its taloned feet slide further into the gulley so it could feast upon the huge Ogre's corpse. It likely was not the thing that had killed the monster, but it would certainly capitalize on a free meal when it found it. The warrior would be so transfixed on the display of nature, that she would be caught completely by surprise when a strong hand grabbed her mouth and a sudden sound of "ssshhh" would escape the lips of whoever hid behind her. Mari could struggle, but she would hear the next words as follows. "Don't scream. I'm not here to harm you..." Suddenly she was let go, and Mari would see amid the shadow of the forest, another warrior woman. Tall and lithe, and strong of limb. Her long dark hair was tied into a flowing ponytail, she was adorned with a bronze breastplate and bronze greaves. Her blue eyes contrasted her coppery skin, and she was similiarly armed as Mari with a sword and shield, albeit of different designs. She was also notably taller than Mari. She held her hands up disarmingly. "We must go before the Wyvern smells us. I am Ithaca, the Road Warden. Come with me and I'll take you to town."</s>
<\|description\|>Name Race \| Age \| Sex Appearance Personality Background * Profession (Optional) * Class * Heritage History (Optional) Motivation Capabilities Attributes Combat [0/1] * * * Intelligence [0/1] * * * Charisma [0/1] * * * Health [0/1] * * * Faculties [0/1] * * * Agility [0/1] * * * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * * * Money For simplicity's sake, we're doing 3 types of coinage. Royals (Gold), Lordlings (Silver), and Commons (Copper). They each measure 20 of the previous coinage. 20 Lordlings makes a Royal and 20 Commons makes a Lordling. You will roll for your currency. You will roll a D10 for Royals, D20 for Lordlings, and D100 for Commons. Languages Rannic Ulfsson Human (Thaegar) \| 27 \| Male Appearance Rannic stands at an impressive height (6'3), with a powerful physique and callused hands made for combat. His mane of hair is as brown as a wild oak, his eyes as green as leaves. He's not unhandsome and generally sports a robust beard, had he not shaven once he entered the Blackwood. His adventures in the Northern Marches had destroyed much of his ancestral armor, so he now wears what banded plate and leather he can to maintain protection. With large hands, long legs, and broad shoulders, he makes an imposing figure to face down in combat. Personality Rannic is honorable and blunt, though he has a streak of free spirit from having been separated from his home for the last four years. Though he can be a bit gruff, he's earnest enough and tends to keep his word. As with most Thaegars, you'll find him a terrible enemy or a loyal friend given enough time to make his aquaintence. He values nothing more than to be implemented back into Thaegar society, though he's become comfortable with his lot in life. Gold and glory are fine companions for the young man, but it will take more than that for him to forget his father's word or his oath to his the thane. Background * Professional Soldier (Optional) * Lower Class * Son of the Blacksmith and Basket Weaver History (Optional) Motivation Rannic seeks to slay a Dragon or Giant, and to return either head to his clan for recompense of his previous crimes. Capabilities Attributes Combat [1/1] * Two Handed Sword [2] * Unarmed [1] * Two Handed Blunt [1] * Two Handed Cleave [1] Intelligence [1/1] * Legendry [1] * History [1] * Charisma [1/1] * * * Health [1/1] * Strength [2] * Constitution [1] * Toughness [1] * Stamina [1] Faculties [1/1] * Resolve [1] * Perception [1] * Agility [1/1] * Running [1] * Outdoors [1] * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * * * Money 3 Royals, 7 Lordlings, 20 Commons Languages Drimgoth, Northern Tongue</s> <\|message\|>Kyiriniae'aea Kyiriniae'aea crouched down beside the child and wove her fingers beguiling before its eyes, stilling its cries as she wove a magical somnolence to quiet the baby. She had no particularly maternal instincts but if it started caterwauling at the right time it might disrupt her plan. With silence assured, she stood up and straightened her dress, preparing herself for the next step. There was some danger involved but she wasn't going to establish herself in this forest by timidity. She closed her eyes and wove a second spell. Blink The tall elf appeared in the flames as the Gundarogs chanted. Stepping quickly from the fire before it could catch. None the less a few of the fibres and the tips of her hair smoked and sizzled though she kept any cry from her lips so as not to spoil the illusion. The the Gundarogs it appeared as though she had been birthed from the flames in response to their chanting. Moving far enough from the fire to be safe she spread her arms akimbo to appear as impressive as she could. "Why have you ventured out under the accursed sun?" she demanded in tone of oratorical command. The back-lighting from the fire made her appear shadowed and featureless. "Why have you left the tunnels and forsaken the search for my brethren?" she demanded.</s> <\|message\|>Emilio Virtoli Diplomacy = 8 + 3 = 11 The Dre Costan showed no signs of tiring from the boy's repetitive questions. All the more he seemed just as excited and lively. "Ah, but where there are towns there are people. Where there are people, my services shall always be required. Setting disputes, evaluating valuables, and moving about the general necessities of the world." Emilio spoke with elegance outwardly to the child, as if he had prepared this spiel his entire life. "Oh, and of course my friend here." He'd gesture with flair to Wēlanandaz. "Monsters mean armor and weapons are in great demand yes? Well what finer is there than expert Dwarvern make?" The question was exclaimed proudly and entirely rhetorical, though he'd move on before the child could comment on it. "I am certain one way or another it shall be an exciting and prosperous venture. You yourself found this to be your own service after all. I am certain you have heard much and more of the Blackwood. It would make me most grateful if you could tell us some more of what to expect. Anything you've heard of the locals, the closest towns or villages. Any and all is appreciated." An eye would look from the man to the shore as they made a turn towards it. A seemingly entire lackluster and lone spot. "Ah, and directions. Truly you would wish for us to make it safely yes? After we have made our fortunes here we would remember those that labored along the way." Emilio would add on with a cheery smile and tone. All but antithetical to the rowing man's silence. "Of course I'd hope the same to be true of myself. Should I find any weary souls who wish to turn their way back for an honest fee, I would all the more direct them to the one who had the same guided safely our own passage. I'd need a name of course for such a man and I would not ask without bestowing my own. Emilio Virtoli, merchant, as you already well know." A seated half bow was added on, not wishing to rock the boat overly much as they were soon to be pulling onto land.</s> <\|message\|>Mari Screaming was the last thing Mari intended to do. She'd allowed herself to be ambushed, distracted as she was by the wyvern's arrival, which she'd only narrowly avoided by luck, but now her instinct was to fight rather than let fear rule. She reached for one of her daggers, but a strong hand caught her wrist. The voice behind her promised her no harm. It took a few seconds, but finally Mari relaxed her muscles and slowed her breathing, the woman letting her go as soon as she did. If she'd wanted to kill Mari, she had a perfect chance already, and hadn't used it. That was good enough. Mari cautiously checked to make sure the wyvern was still occupied with the ogre, then turned about. Ithaca, she introduced herself as. A Praelian name if she'd ever heard one, with a look to match. Taller than Mari, and well armed and armored. What she promised sounded like a much needed bit of good luck. "Lead the way," she instructed, eager to put the gulley and the wyvern well behind her. Only when the sounds of the creature feasting on the ogre's corpse had disappeared did she venture her own introduction. "I'm Mari, of the Sea of Swords. What's this town we're headed to?"</s> <\|message\|>Name "Oi! Get the fuck out'o the way!" A cry sprang up from behind them. Similar cries rose and created a cacophony of sounds from those behind, clearly unamused that the two made it to the front of the line to negotiate rather than pay immediately and give someone else a chance. For the notary's part, he blinked at the strange bedraggled girl and her foreign companion. It was understandable why, as Greybridge was an Andredian settlement and she was clearly Vrettonian, and her story was vague, what's more. However, it also could have some plausibility, as many mercenary companies from either country was bought by the other to confuse the their enemy during their frequent wars. It almost looked like the man in the extravagant hat was going to deny them, but at the yelling from the crowd to get a move on, he seemed to acquiesce after another moment's thought. "Very well, to your great service blah blah yes, only 5 Lordlings." He whispered to them harshly. "From both of you." Once paid, he would raise his head and wave about a crop-like crudgle. The four halberdiers in the center rose their weapons automatically as if they were Dwarf-made machines powered by steam. Behind him lay Greybridge, the gothic agate jewel of the north. Even during the day, the city had an ominous, dramatic quality to its architecture. Some compared the looming and thatched two or three-story buildings that flooded the city to one of the haunted cities found in Henry Forthwright's melodramas. Leering gargoyles could be found atop a few buildings in the distance, though what lay around them was a small marketplace in the center of a widened three way street. They would be practically shoved inside, and once within it was like a jungle of buildings surrounded by a throng of Greybridge citizens that went about their daily business. You have some flexibility on what you would like to do. You could roll to find a shop or someone to speak to with a faculties (perception) roll, or you could be creative and do something unexpected. Ask away if you have any questions. @Duck --- Ithaca had begun to lead her northwards, through numerous thickets of dark trees until they finally stumbled upon a well trodden path. It seemed to go east and westwards, though it likely snaked back around to where she had been at the mouth of the gulley. A great brown horse stood tethered to a tree, proud and powerful with a well groomed black mane. It snickered when it saw Ithaca, clearly happy to see her once again. "Geiá sou diké mou Bucephalus." She whispered to the steed, untying the reins from the tree, just as glad to see the horse as well. She made it look all too easy to mount the steed, holding a hand out for Mari to take. "The Sea of Swords?" She asked, hoisting Mari up to sit just behind her. Ithaca let Mari sling her shield around herself and sheath her sword before she had Bucephalus begin at a trot. "You must have traveled through the borderlands to get here. Durgony yes?" They made their way deeper into the forest path, letting the sun pass into tangled shadow beneath the canopy above. The trees were somehow both healthy yet gnarled by some unseen grimness, though the sounds of the birds around them showed no evil was yet near, if there was any at all. "It's Rittenvos, of the people of Eisenland." Ithaca explained, glancing back at Mari for a moment. "You chose a strange road to come here, though I suppose it is the most direct road. I like that. Nothing reaches the heart of an Orc like a straight thrust through the chest. But yes, Rittenvos. It has the largest inn near the southern border, and plenty of tradesmen. I won't ask you much on your quest, for no one would travel like you unless they had an important errand. But you very well could find what you are seeking there." The road warden spoke with a certain surety that would strengthen the heart of anyone hearing it. But it was not to last, for a moment later a most dreadful sound erupted from the skies above. It was so brutally loud that it was not so apparent what made the leaves upon the branches shake until Ithaca and Mari's senses had regained their faculties. It was a roar so terrifying and powerful it shook one's very bones. Among the sudden calamity Bucephalus whinnied, the dauntless horse bucking briefly in abject surprise and fear. "Dragon!" Ithaca gasped, doing her best to rein Bucephalus before the horse threw them off, calming within moments due to its training and Ithaca's prompting. Mari would have to cling to the warden so as not to fall off, and once the three had halted in the forest path, there was another terrible roar, albeit further away.</s>	<\|message\|>Name A Gundarog hissed in fear and hatred, recoiling from her sudden appearance. It grabbed a wickedly barbed spear on instinct, but its companions had yet to attack, so in awe were they at the unexpected and immediate introduction from the strange sorceress. It seemed an undecided thing on what they would do until two of them abased themselves before Kyiriniae'aea, obviously too afraid to speculate. The other two were less decided for a few brief moments, and the one that had grabbed the weapon seemed on the brink of throwing his spear or running. However, it soon dropped its weapon and joined its fellows, just as the third did. The Gundarog that had held the baby heard her demands, jitteringly rising, looking at her and trying to speak in its broken northern. "B-Bright Lady? Yes! Yes, Bright Lady we..." It sibilated, unused to speak of the thing they dared not walk under. "The s-s-sun does not touch here, Bright Lady. The shadow of Lord Gorthaur has been cast upon this forest, gnash its wooden bones! Claw it! Bite it! Burn the villages into nothing!" It erupted into a brief, psychotic cackled until it realized it was (likely) speaking to someone who could obliterate it with a look. It took two steps toward her, moving like some broken misshapen thing. It very well could have been. Many Gundarogs had warts and humps that made their movements queer but did not diminish their effectiveness in killing. No wonder its voice sounded like verbal depression and bloated malice. "The Blackwood is forever changed, yes. Long ago when Gorthaur had first arrived, he brought the realm of shadow with him. Now shadow lingers until the unmaking the world..." "What does the Bright Lady command!?" One of the bowed ones cried out, shrill in pitch. "We can shows you to villages! To towers! Yes, yes Ladies love towers?"</s>
<\|description\|>Name Race \| Age \| Sex Appearance Personality Background * Profession (Optional) * Class * Heritage History (Optional) Motivation Capabilities Attributes Combat [0/1] * * * Intelligence [0/1] * * * Charisma [0/1] * * * Health [0/1] * * * Faculties [0/1] * * * Agility [0/1] * * * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * * * Money For simplicity's sake, we're doing 3 types of coinage. Royals (Gold), Lordlings (Silver), and Commons (Copper). They each measure 20 of the previous coinage. 20 Lordlings makes a Royal and 20 Commons makes a Lordling. You will roll for your currency. You will roll a D10 for Royals, D20 for Lordlings, and D100 for Commons. Languages Rannic Ulfsson Human (Thaegar) \| 27 \| Male Appearance Rannic stands at an impressive height (6'3), with a powerful physique and callused hands made for combat. His mane of hair is as brown as a wild oak, his eyes as green as leaves. He's not unhandsome and generally sports a robust beard, had he not shaven once he entered the Blackwood. His adventures in the Northern Marches had destroyed much of his ancestral armor, so he now wears what banded plate and leather he can to maintain protection. With large hands, long legs, and broad shoulders, he makes an imposing figure to face down in combat. Personality Rannic is honorable and blunt, though he has a streak of free spirit from having been separated from his home for the last four years. Though he can be a bit gruff, he's earnest enough and tends to keep his word. As with most Thaegars, you'll find him a terrible enemy or a loyal friend given enough time to make his aquaintence. He values nothing more than to be implemented back into Thaegar society, though he's become comfortable with his lot in life. Gold and glory are fine companions for the young man, but it will take more than that for him to forget his father's word or his oath to his the thane. Background * Professional Soldier (Optional) * Lower Class * Son of the Blacksmith and Basket Weaver History (Optional) Motivation Rannic seeks to slay a Dragon or Giant, and to return either head to his clan for recompense of his previous crimes. Capabilities Attributes Combat [1/1] * Two Handed Sword [2] * Unarmed [1] * Two Handed Blunt [1] * Two Handed Cleave [1] Intelligence [1/1] * Legendry [1] * History [1] * Charisma [1/1] * * * Health [1/1] * Strength [2] * Constitution [1] * Toughness [1] * Stamina [1] Faculties [1/1] * Resolve [1] * Perception [1] * Agility [1/1] * Running [1] * Outdoors [1] * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * * * Money 3 Royals, 7 Lordlings, 20 Commons Languages Drimgoth, Northern Tongue</s> <\|message\|>Mari Riding: d8 = 2 Mari couldn't help but smile when she laid eyes on the horse. Mounts were hardly common on the isles in the Sea of Swords, and she had very little experience with horses, but she'd always found them beautiful. She took Ithaca's hand and mounted up behind her without much of the same grace, a little unsteady, but the pace wasn't difficult. "Durgony, that's right." Mari was getting a little tired of traveling, and this Rittenvos sounded like an excellent place to rest and just maybe rid herself of the dirt and dust and grime of the journey. She found herself liking this Ithaca; given her occupation, she likely knew the forest very well. No one was supposed to know of the temple's location, but perhaps Ithaca could help her get started. Not everyone felt favorably towards the Daughters, but Mari had a good feeling about this one. Any trace of good feeling fled when an awful roar rent the very air, prompting Mari to reach up and cover both of her ears, wincing at the sudden pain of such a loud noise from above. The horse wildly bucked, and without a solid grip on anything Mari was thrown off, landing with a heavy thud on her side in the dirt. Dragon, Ithaca said. The fall only knocked the wind out of Mari, but instinctively she reached for her shield, even if it'd be all but pointless against such a creature. Her heart was pounding, terror coursing through her, and it only abated when the second awful roar seemed to be further away. Forcing herself to take a few breaths, Mari got back to her feet. "Goddess," she breathed, brushing dirt off her side. "Are dragons, wyverns, and ogres a normal day for you here?"</s> <\|message\|>Name Reality warped around the Gundarog when her spell impacted, cutting open its stomach and ripping the life out of it. It fell without a cry, helmet falling off to reveal its stretched, pig nosed face and impossibly wide eyes for seeing in the pitch darkness of its subterranean realm. After a moment of complete silence, the other Gundarog's screeched in glee and leaped over the corpse of their once-companion. Kyiriniae'aea would see bits of blackened flesh flying up as they devoured the dead thing. Kyiriniae'aea would have the time to grab the child, still fast asleep as she polymorphed him until a small turtle and dropped it in the sack with what little she carried with her. Within minutes, she had her small troop standing at the ready. They held their spears, long for them but only slightly taller than a tall man at the ready, with their black iron shields curved into spikes to make another stabbing implement. Standing they would be nearly her height, but they were perpetually hunched and ready to be commanded. The forest was as gloomy as ever, but magic permeated the air in a very pleasant manner to the sorceress as her minions walked and crawled interchangeably in front of her, keeping silent as they passed under bushes and over huge roots with, save for the hissing grunts and low growls they might emit as they 'marched'. The landscape seemed a never ending green and black as they delved deeper into the Blackwood, though the trees grew notably smaller (though still extremely large). Save for a few large spiders and at one point of hiding from an indigo colored, stout wolf the size of a pony, they saw little life. After what must have been an hour travel, the Gundarogs seemed to be speaking amongst each other and giggling fiendishly just as they passed the cusp of a bend in their path, leaping up and down like excited children. "We're here, Bright Lady! Yes yes, Bright Lady master is pleased!" They declared, though she hardly needed to hear it. It was plain to see before her; a thick canopy of trees covered the top of it, but before her was the stout 'trunk' of a tower made of large stone slabs. Clearly the work of humans, though no telling how old the building was. Wooden gates rotted and ripped off by something immensely strong, her eyes could see that the Blackwood had begun to reclaim the small keep. Grass tufts had grown out of the floor between cracked stones, and vines had snaked their way within. As they entered, the Gundarogs awaited outside to guard their new master as she looked about at her leisure, though there was not much to see. The archway had been an ogival arch with the ruined buildings laced with intricate tracery. Within was a basic stone floor and no other rooms save a small kitchen with no food likely, though it did have a door on its hinges (opened). The only unknown was a winding stairway you could watch ascend up the wall, twirled around the stones until it reached the second and likely final floor fully six or so meters upwards. From the ground, she saw a circular, railed opening in the floor above, meaning it had the likeness of a balcony, making it easy to stare at the ground floor if one were so inclined. As she ascended the stairs, she found herself looking and four different doors, all closed. The fifth door, the largest I might add, was opened. Within were cases upon cases of books, filled to the brim in such a manner that some books were half opened on the ground, from having fallen. To the left was a bed, albeit messy and unmade, though that was the least promising thing in the room. The center of the room's fore held a clearly mystical creation, wrought of magic and stone making a strange, eldritch archway. A small lining in the floor of what appeared to be silver had been laid to reach an item that lay at the true center of the room: A large ball of pure crystal, utterly black in color. Her alchemical eyes would find one last thing of note; upon the far right of the room was a table with a mortar & pestel, a retort, a beaker, an alembic, and calcinator. No supplies however, though doubtless the forest itself was full of such things. If you would like to try and attempt to activate any of the magical items, roll a 1d8+3. If you'd like to search the bookshelves for something specific, roll faculties or perception if you have an addition, and if you'd like to perform alchemy with whatever you have on hand, make an alchemy roll (or order your minions to find various herbs). You have so many options!</s>	<\|message\|>Name Mari had dirt caked on her backside and shoulder, but she was mostly unharmed save for maybe a scratch or two. Bucephalus had kept his cool after the second Dragon roar, and thankfully the Gods saw fit for the beast to fade into the distance. Dragons might have incredible senses, but this was the Blackwood. Finding two people even if it smelled them over miles and miles of thick forest would have been too time-wasting for any hungry beast. For some reason the forest seemed someone more still as the Dragon disappeared, and it was then Mari would realize the Dragon's wing beats had created a literal gale of wind. "The forest is always dangerous, but this dangerous?" Ithaca asked as she lent Mira her hand, smiling. "I think you just bring trouble with you." Once the warrior of Rán was back upon the strong mount, Ithaca, as nonchalant as she seemed, quickened her horse's pace. In fact the speed in which they now galloped, winding and twisting their way through the wood was both impressive and harrowing. Mari could feel the hooves press into the mud below her, giving a 'slipping' and uneven quality to their ride that would make anyone uncomfortable. Thankfully it seemed they had done this before, and before an hour had passed Mari saw the path had turned into a more straight road, interwoven with other lesser paths that met it every mile or two until they came cantering into the opening of a town. So abruptly did the trees give way to the wooden gate, it was as if they had just left the Fae realm and found a small pocket of civilization. The town was small, no doubt there. Perhaps there were six roads that interwove to create the entirety of the settlement. Ithaca halted Bucephalus just after they had reached the gate, nearly bowling over two men carrying a desk into what looked to be a newly constructed building. They yelled in fear, and sighed audibly when the steed had stopped just short of ruining their day and they hurried on. It seemed, upon the dirt section of town they were in, that all of Rittenvos was to their left down what seemed to be the main road, and to their right was what looked to be a newly built, stout keep with a fortified living space built connected to its base. Ithaca's arrival had been noted by a few passersby; commoners and a few Dwarves hauling a cart with what looked to be sacks of perhaps salt or flour. The resident tollkeeper had also noticed it seemed, judging by his uniform and shit-eating look. Not even a grin. He just looked as if he very much wished to take your money. He was tall, with a noticeable paunch thrust over his tight belt and nearly breaking apart his jerkin. All in all, he was palpably unpleasant, and falling down the ugly tree whilst hitting every branch on the way down didn't exactly aid his case. "So," he said gruffly, waving a quill pen. "You got a newcomer? You told her it was five Lordlings to enter, I assume?" "Piss off, Bryant." Ithaca said, reining Bucephalus to nearly whip the man with her horse's head. The fellow recoiled as if he'd been slapped. "Anyone who survived in the wilderness alone for four days has free right to a bath and a bed. Don't give me that look! Speak to the Baron if you must, but I suspect he's busier with the Dragon commotion." Bryant cursed under his breath, but didn't argue when Ithaca started her horse in a canter down the road, leaving him to wave the dust out of his face. Before Mari, thatched roofs lined the dirt road, one to two stories tall, with their porches sometimes occupied by lesser vendors. The woman began to point at various shops, and people as well, giving her curt explanations. "It might not look like much, and it's far smaller than Hearthhome not three days to the north. But it's an outpost for traders and those braving the depths of the woods. She indicated toward a woman in her late thirties, carrying a basket filled with apples. "There's the lady Richardson who owns the inn. No doubt she's going back now. A kind woman though her husband is nearly a big of a bastard as Bryant. And over there..." She pointed at a young man, darkly handsome in his own way, entertaining children with a slight of hand, much to their innocent delight. "That's Po Harthwyn. A nice man. His village was burned to the ground not a year ago. I found him much like you in the forest. He knows much old lore of these woods." She showed Mari the location of the Provisioner, where one might acquire any items they need for travel, along with the charcoal burning, which was surprising to find in such a small town! A meatshop and butcher had a joint business on the right, along with a small bakery named 'Baskin's Bakes' and a blacksmith, though the smith seemed out at the moment when they passed. At the very end of the road, Bucephalus stopped at the only three story building in town. The roof was thatched and held up by strong oak beams like the rest of town. "And this is the Grandhaven, where you can find a bath and some rest." She said, letting her dismount when she felt ready. "Do you need anything of me? I will be here tonight but tomorrow I'm off on the road once more."</s>
<\|description\|>Name Race \| Age \| Sex Appearance Personality Background * Profession (Optional) * Class * Heritage History (Optional) Motivation Capabilities Attributes Combat [0/1] * * * Intelligence [0/1] * * * Charisma [0/1] * * * Health [0/1] * * * Faculties [0/1] * * * Agility [0/1] * * * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * * * Money For simplicity's sake, we're doing 3 types of coinage. Royals (Gold), Lordlings (Silver), and Commons (Copper). They each measure 20 of the previous coinage. 20 Lordlings makes a Royal and 20 Commons makes a Lordling. You will roll for your currency. You will roll a D10 for Royals, D20 for Lordlings, and D100 for Commons. Languages Rannic Ulfsson Human (Thaegar) \| 27 \| Male Appearance Rannic stands at an impressive height (6'3), with a powerful physique and callused hands made for combat. His mane of hair is as brown as a wild oak, his eyes as green as leaves. He's not unhandsome and generally sports a robust beard, had he not shaven once he entered the Blackwood. His adventures in the Northern Marches had destroyed much of his ancestral armor, so he now wears what banded plate and leather he can to maintain protection. With large hands, long legs, and broad shoulders, he makes an imposing figure to face down in combat. Personality Rannic is honorable and blunt, though he has a streak of free spirit from having been separated from his home for the last four years. Though he can be a bit gruff, he's earnest enough and tends to keep his word. As with most Thaegars, you'll find him a terrible enemy or a loyal friend given enough time to make his aquaintence. He values nothing more than to be implemented back into Thaegar society, though he's become comfortable with his lot in life. Gold and glory are fine companions for the young man, but it will take more than that for him to forget his father's word or his oath to his the thane. Background * Professional Soldier (Optional) * Lower Class * Son of the Blacksmith and Basket Weaver History (Optional) Motivation Rannic seeks to slay a Dragon or Giant, and to return either head to his clan for recompense of his previous crimes. Capabilities Attributes Combat [1/1] * Two Handed Sword [2] * Unarmed [1] * Two Handed Blunt [1] * Two Handed Cleave [1] Intelligence [1/1] * Legendry [1] * History [1] * Charisma [1/1] * * * Health [1/1] * Strength [2] * Constitution [1] * Toughness [1] * Stamina [1] Faculties [1/1] * Resolve [1] * Perception [1] * Agility [1/1] * Running [1] * Outdoors [1] * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * * * Money 3 Royals, 7 Lordlings, 20 Commons Languages Drimgoth, Northern Tongue</s> <\|message\|>Name "If it'll shut you up." The older rowman replied to Emilio, hacking up something particularly thick and spitting it into the river. He made another rowing movement, the water sloshing audibly. "We're about to drop you both at Varian's Crossing. It's a little inlet, and from there you walk a few hours and make it to Olderin, though some folk who remember the old wizard who used to own the place call it 'Olderin's Refuge' still. It's a smaller town the road'll lead you right to, and probably the safest place in the southern Blackwood, what with the Knights of the Skull making a base there." He grunted once again as he rowed, clearly tiring from having been at it for hours by this point. "I don't know too much of the land. You got a few towns and castles to the east, though no telling if they're still standing. Just don't follow the river as far is it goes, not that you could. You'll end up in a swamp, with water that burns you alive. Like er...acid, that's the word. Rumor has it a Dragon black as midnight lives there too. Best to just stay on the western side of the river until you reach Olderin. Not that it's completely safe, but it's as safe as it gets in this accursed place." As the boat drifted closer to the shoreline, Wēlanandaz was deep in thought, recalling the wars of yesteryear. He remembered an old story his uncle told him once, of Gorthaur the Wraithlord, who pulled the Blackwood into the very realm of Morimando, or pulled some of his realm onto the wood, darkening it forever so his minions and wraiths could move freely and with more power. He recalled two Dwarf Virkis within the wood as well, though his uncle never said where they were, only that they were along the western region of the Blackwood. Virki Fenri and Virki Gimle. No doubt he could find out more later, but they were fortified to fight the Wraithlord and no word has reached of their downfall since then. Soon, a crusty scratching sound erupted from beneath them as they made it to the small bank. The boy leaped out of the boat and into the water, wading to the side to help the bigger man pull it up further onto the shore. Using hooked poles they had stored, they also slowly yanked the service raft closer to shore before it too was banked. The bars were lifted, and the donkey horked and honked as it walked off the raft and onto solid ground, snorting into the sand, with the cargo cart in tow behind him. The bank, or Varian's Crossing, was wide and easily traversable, though it led up an incline into an opening into the trees. Within the path looked thick with ferns and saplings, not to mention larger birch trees a stride or so away from the path. They had better continue quickly before it became dark. "Just follow the path, and you'll be fine I think!" The boy said. "Well...I don't know but I'm pretty sure. You never know in the Blackwood you know?" @Tony Pajamas</s> <\|message\|>Kyiriniae'aea Kyiriniae'aea surveyed the tower with approval, there was much to do to make it a truly acceptable dwelling place, but her minds eye was already hard at work, picturing a fire, carpets and proper illumination. There would need to be some provision for defense of course, the presence of the gundarogs attested to that, but there would be time for that, and she had an inkling of how to go about it. First though she needed to take a thorough inventory of her newfound lair. What had happened to the previous occupant? It seemed unlikely given the disarray of the library that they would return. Well if they did she would deal with that as she always did. There was the human child to deal with as well which was irritating but necessary if she was to persist in this place, it represented to great an opportunity for her simply to kill the creature or let it be eaten. It was unwise to leave her new found minions alone for too long, there was another task she needed them for before she dismissed them, but the lure of the strange and obviously magical items was too much to resist. She approached the archway first, given its prominence and possible function as a potential ingress to her new home. Circling it she ran her fingers over the stones, attempting to gain some sort of insight into its function, but merely physical interaction did not seem to be enough. Stretching out a thin finger she crouched down and touched the bottom of the arch, drawing the pad of the digit up the stone in a long rainbow like curve, following the arch and reaching out with her magical faculties... Activating the arch = 8 (5+3)</s> <\|message\|>Emilio Virtoli Intuition = 4 + 1 = 5 "I could ask nothing else of you fine duo, and I must give thanks to what words you have offered." Emilio would make for a bow as he stepped onto land. Checking on his donkey he'd make sure the cart was on firm ground before looking over it as well mindful of the rocking of the boat had knocked anything loose. An apple that had loosely rolled to the bottom of the cart and bruised itself was picked up and given as a treat to his animal. A hand would follow a growing smile as he stroked his companion's face. Making sure everything was accounted for he'd gesture an offer for his dwarvern friend to board the cart. "Best for us to get moving and letting the fellows get on their own way then right Wēlanandaz?" Barely waiting for the dwarf's own answer he'd quickly move to set off down the path. There was common enough folk tale and legends of any random place being haunted and dangerous, but the merchant knew well enough that there was at least an inkling of truth to even the most baseless one. Better safe than sorry was a tried and true practice on the road and one he would not stray from now. If any oddity lay in the path ahead he'd trust his base gut feeling for the time at least. He had managed it this far after all. Deep rooted and wooded forests were not the typical locales the Dre Costan had found himself traveling through before for the most part, especially in these rougher conditions. Obviously the path had been carved and managed to some extent though not enough for their sort to be the most common travelers. The man would keep his eyes sharp and looking about as the clatter of wooden wheels against the path matched the clops of the donkey's own hooves. "Well, it'll be some hours at least until we see some sort of men again." He'd speak out, though not as verbose and energetic as on the shoreline. "I would wonder your thoughts at times like these, my otherwise stoic and stone-faced colleague." The hint of sarcasm in his voice would at least be obvious in the choice of adjectives used. @POOHEAD189</s>	<\|message\|>Name When Kyiriniae'aea activated the archway with her energies, it became horribly clear not a moment later that the elven maiden should have activated the crystal ball prior, for she felt the very energy of her being sucked into what seemed an endless void of nothingness. Her very soul was stretched like a dislocated arm, and it was only mercifully pushed back within her once the archway coalesced energies borne of her magics. To say she felt drained was an understatement, though what appeared next would be far, far worse. The archway swirled with multicolored energy of pure chaos as the very structure itself sparked with eldritch, purple lightning every few moments that audibly cracked and sizzled. Though the air in the chamber was stilled, the sorceress could feel a strange ebb and flow of magic with her magesight, like kicked up dust from some explosion that served as a portent of doom. It was after five long seconds that the visitor appeared. At first, one clawed foot stepped into the material plane, for he approached. Then the next laid bare upon the stone, for he approached. A staff of blacksteel crowned with a demonskull materialized before her eyes, for he approached. Scaled skin the color of stained oak mixed with dead blood showed from his entrance, for he approached. His robes were suddenly palpable and colored purple, yet shimmered as if coated with black spider silk, for he approached. It was his face she saw last. A draconic visage, lipless and sunken like skin barely clinging to a vicious skull, with two large, sloped horns framing its snout. Upon his brow were three eyes, the center clearly made of some unknown precious gemstone. Once fully out of the portal, Kyiriniae'aea saw the thing, fully seven feet in height. If she used her magesight, she saw it was at least two long strides above her in power and knowledge, though there was no telling what it or he was. It was obvious even if she weren't so drained, she had no real chance of bewitching the thing and could likely harm it enough to make it angrier. She heard a low growl emanate from its throat, as if it were the broken engine of some Dwarven machine. "What realm is this?" It asked aloud, though she could tell it was asking itself rather than her. It's voice was three voices, or perhaps it echoed within its throat thrice, for they sounded very deep and similar. All at once, its three eyed gaze fell upon Kyiriniae'aea, scrutinizing her as if she were a squirrel that had wandered into a living room. "A fairy..." it said, referring to the archaic forms of the Elves before they were gifted larger bodies by the Gods so long ago. "Why did you call Gekir'vash'ni'k'kashnik'ash here?" Suddenly, the tension was broken when a wail rose up from neither of them, and both saw the form of the baby in the bag, shaking its fists and crying. The warlock, for it indeed had the energy signature of such a thing, tilted its head curiously. It's curiosity was likely the only thing from killing the sorceress at the current moment. "A child?" Oh FUCK! Well, you can...um, you got a lot of options. Clearly there are no easy ones. You could attempt to unsummon him, though I wouldn't try unless you're feeling really lucky. You could try to lie and bargain with what you have to save your own skin, or you could blink away though he either chases you or you lose your tower. Or you could surprise me!</s>
<\|description\|>Name Race \| Age \| Sex Appearance Personality Background * Profession (Optional) * Class * Heritage History (Optional) Motivation Capabilities Attributes Combat [0/1] * * * Intelligence [0/1] * * * Charisma [0/1] * * * Health [0/1] * * * Faculties [0/1] * * * Agility [0/1] * * * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * * * Money For simplicity's sake, we're doing 3 types of coinage. Royals (Gold), Lordlings (Silver), and Commons (Copper). They each measure 20 of the previous coinage. 20 Lordlings makes a Royal and 20 Commons makes a Lordling. You will roll for your currency. You will roll a D10 for Royals, D20 for Lordlings, and D100 for Commons. Languages Rannic Ulfsson Human (Thaegar) \| 27 \| Male Appearance Rannic stands at an impressive height (6'3), with a powerful physique and callused hands made for combat. His mane of hair is as brown as a wild oak, his eyes as green as leaves. He's not unhandsome and generally sports a robust beard, had he not shaven once he entered the Blackwood. His adventures in the Northern Marches had destroyed much of his ancestral armor, so he now wears what banded plate and leather he can to maintain protection. With large hands, long legs, and broad shoulders, he makes an imposing figure to face down in combat. Personality Rannic is honorable and blunt, though he has a streak of free spirit from having been separated from his home for the last four years. Though he can be a bit gruff, he's earnest enough and tends to keep his word. As with most Thaegars, you'll find him a terrible enemy or a loyal friend given enough time to make his aquaintence. He values nothing more than to be implemented back into Thaegar society, though he's become comfortable with his lot in life. Gold and glory are fine companions for the young man, but it will take more than that for him to forget his father's word or his oath to his the thane. Background * Professional Soldier (Optional) * Lower Class * Son of the Blacksmith and Basket Weaver History (Optional) Motivation Rannic seeks to slay a Dragon or Giant, and to return either head to his clan for recompense of his previous crimes. Capabilities Attributes Combat [1/1] * Two Handed Sword [2] * Unarmed [1] * Two Handed Blunt [1] * Two Handed Cleave [1] Intelligence [1/1] * Legendry [1] * History [1] * Charisma [1/1] * * * Health [1/1] * Strength [2] * Constitution [1] * Toughness [1] * Stamina [1] Faculties [1/1] * Resolve [1] * Perception [1] * Agility [1/1] * Running [1] * Outdoors [1] * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * * * Money 3 Royals, 7 Lordlings, 20 Commons Languages Drimgoth, Northern Tongue</s> <\|message\|>Name "A pawn to aid in your designs?" It asked, and it would dawn on her that it was not slow in thought, but was unused to speaking in such a tongue. Or perhaps it was unused to even speaking, for perhaps the realm it had come from communicated in other ways. The Thousand Realms before the material world were unthinkable in its dimensions, though Elves knew that more than most, having come from their own Fey realm millennia ago. Gekir'vash'ni'k'kashnik'ash took two steps forward, and to her horror Kyiriniae'aea would see cracks in the stone appear under his feet at each step. Either his form was so dense it was ten times heavier than he appeared, or the very stone found his presence repellent. It slowly bent its form, sucking in her stench through its enlarged, crocidilian-like nostrils. She felt the small sensation of her soul lifting from her once more, though it settled far quicker than when she had attempted to open the portal. "You will be a pawn to aid in mine." It declared, with such finality that to her, fate itself agreed. Lifting itself higher, it breathed out noxious fumes for but a moment. The black air lingered above her like a raised guillotine. "Gundarogs are paltry... No, I require more pure blood for my machinations." A clawed hand raised, and even her magesight could not detect what spell had enacted to allow the baby slide out of the sack and to float over to the entity's waiting grasp. Almost gently, it clutched the child that had stopped crying. It only looked at the bestial thing, eyes wide as if stricken. "You wish to learn from me? You are but a child as this one, but I can aid you for your services. Bring me nine more children within this planet's month, or an artifact of sufficient power that I may devour. Do so, and I will grant you powers beyond what you can perform. Do it not..." He let the threat end, for he did not need to say more. His very voice carried a threat that was far worse than death. Kyiriniae'aea would not see, but she would hear a snap, and a fleshy crunch as Gekir'vash'ni'k'kashnik'ash made his exit through the portal once more. The archway flared to life in bright flash like a collapsing star, and then it went suddenly dark. The magic no longer lingered within, and Kyiriniae'aea would be safe from any more entrances from there for now. Accompanied by the fear, the Elven woman had performed many spells that day. Though her repitoire was not yet expended, she felt almost intoxicated with the magic she had pulled to use for her spells. That coupled with her encounter of that other-wordly thing, made her feel both buzzed yet anxious. And yet there was little time to waste if she wished to perform her duties...or find a way to keep Gekir'vash'ni'k'kashnik'ash banished for good. You are still able to activate the crystal ball if you wish, or you can call for your Gundarogs, or both or neither. I will need a sanity roll, however (just faculties since you are yet to have a point in sanity).</s> <\|message\|>Mari Civilization at last. Mari felt extremely lucky that her first encounter with another person in the Blackwood had been so positive, and the tollkeeper served as a stark reminder that it wouldn't always be that way. She took in the town, one building after the next, as Ithaca introduced them. The people didn't seem to find her arrival noteworthy; no doubt plenty of well-armed strangers made their way through this outpost. She made certain to remember Po Harthwyn's name and face, as he seemed like someone she ought to try speaking with later. There wasn't any hurry, as Mari didn't need to complete her journey on any particular timetable. Completing it alive was the important part, and that meant not venturing back out into the woods until she was rested, restocked, and armed with at least something resembling a lead. The town seemed to have everything she needed, though her funds were limited, and would be restricted to the necessities. For the moment Mari simply dismounted the horse, far less painfully than she had the last time. "If you're here tonight, can I buy you an ale later?" She grinned a little at Ithaca. "Seems I have five Lordlings more than I should thanks to you." Regardless, her first stop was the Grandhaven behind her, for a room, a hot meal so she didn't need to deplete her rations further, and a bath. Necessities, all.</s> <\|message\|>Kyiriniae'aea 6 Well Kyiriniae'aea thought as she finished picking up books and sliding them back onto the battered shelf, as far as deals with a demon went it could have been worse. While she could think of several ways to acquire the souls the demon wanted, there as a theological objection to be considered. Volduressë considered a fair trade to be weakness, even if it meant that her worshiper gained in power. Ergo her first concern had to be finding a way to turn the current situation to her advantage. That was harder than stealing babies from humans who, if her minions were to believed, had villages nearby. Such places were doubtlessly lousy with their mewling spawn who would provide appropriate tribute if it came to that. Still she had a month to work with. This tower was the place where the demon had been summoned, so it stood to reason that it held knowledge that she might employ against it. She knew now to use the crystal before employing the gateway but she felt chastened enough that her first act was to begin searching the library for any information on the binding of demons, or the use of the arch. 6</s>	<\|message\|>Name The piles of books were so high and varied that it would take days if not weeks to comb through all of them alone, even whilst she was skimming the spines to see if anything could aid her. Luckily, she had all the time in the world save for her empty stomach, which led her to promptly order her Gundarogs to go out and hunt something to bring back and cook for her, which they hurried to do so with gusto. It gave her alone time to sort through the piled tomes, and she found three of interest. The Eldernomicon, The Tome of Perpetual Horrors, and the 2nd edition of Dirge of Dragons. Through the hours, she did not find much on how to orchestrate the dimensional archway. However, she did find out much needed information on Gekir'vash'ni'k'kashnik'ash, or at least on what exactly he was, for it became clear he was not a demon. Or at least, not originally. It seemed the Warlock was one of the Lost Ones; a member of the Drogator species that split from its ancient people and never settled in the material plane of existence, or what some called Mannaheimm or Stridheim. The story goes, long ago the Gods found they had failed in their contract with the great Dragons and created an offshoot race known as the Drogator, only the Dragons at their height of their inter-planetary empire flung the newly made Drogator into the Thousand Realms to die and be lost into the nether forever. The race did not die as the Dragons had thought, but fought an endless war against fey and eldritch denizens for thousands upon thousands of years, until just over a millennia ago they had reached Maroleth once more and invaded it, thinking this planet not their lost home but a new home to preemptively conquer. Thus it led to the brief but bloody Forsaken Wars, and the establishment of the Drogator's people on their reclaimed homeplanet. However, a faction of the Drogator had branched off in the nether, content to find homes among the lost realms of the void. These 'Lost Ones' have been missing for over ten thousand years, gaining knowledge and perhaps Daemonhood. Gekir'vash'ni'k'kashnik'ash is such a being. After she had a brief dinner of cooked boar courtesy of the Gundarogs (one having taken a nasty goring, and would have died were it not for its armor), she went back to her studies. Within the first two times, the Elf did find a few chalk and sulphuric circles to temporarily bind demons or eldritch things, but only for a limited time. She would need something more... The crystal ball every pulled her towards its swirling form, and after lighting what candles she could in her sanctum, the sorceress went to activate the ball with a weave of a calling spell, drawing forth what energies she had regained over her rest. Thankfully, it only required a brief charge to flare it to life. Within, the clouds of murk sudden dissipated and the image within was flung across the sky, northward perhaps or westward, it was hard to tell. It seemed to grow dark again, though the energy was still very much alive...working... More than a minute came and went, and the archway awakened once more. Not in such chaos as before, but gradually and almost mechanically, functioning as one would wish it to. The gateway held the picture not of twirling chaos, but a soft iridescence until someone stepped through. Someone taller than Kyiriniae'aea but undoubtedly not the demon that had come through before. It was a human. A younger male human at that, with a thick mane of dark hair and bronzed skin. He had a somewhat plain look to him, though he wasn't unhandsome in his way. His nose was perfectly sized, with nice lips and his eyes were bright and intelligent. He wore the pragmatic trappings of a traveling wizard or scholar. In his left hand was a wand of elm, and in his right was a long knife, though when he saw Kyiriniae'aea he relaxed a bit at the sight of a High Elf. "Forgive me," He said, looking around. He cleared his throat, having clearly been caught off guard by her presence. "I am Alcander. High one, did you... activate this?" Clearly he was a mage, and though he was nowhere near the Lost One in power, he was very much on par with Kyiriniae'aea and likely less tired. Her bewitchment he would likely sense, but good old body language and a subtler magic like dazzle might work if she wished to sway him in some form or fashion, though that could of course wait. "Where are we?"</s>
<\|description\|>Name Race \| Age \| Sex Appearance Personality Background * Profession (Optional) * Class * Heritage History (Optional) Motivation Capabilities Attributes Combat [0/1] * * * Intelligence [0/1] * * * Charisma [0/1] * * * Health [0/1] * * * Faculties [0/1] * * * Agility [0/1] * * * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * * * Money For simplicity's sake, we're doing 3 types of coinage. Royals (Gold), Lordlings (Silver), and Commons (Copper). They each measure 20 of the previous coinage. 20 Lordlings makes a Royal and 20 Commons makes a Lordling. You will roll for your currency. You will roll a D10 for Royals, D20 for Lordlings, and D100 for Commons. Languages Rannic Ulfsson Human (Thaegar) \| 27 \| Male Appearance Rannic stands at an impressive height (6'3), with a powerful physique and callused hands made for combat. His mane of hair is as brown as a wild oak, his eyes as green as leaves. He's not unhandsome and generally sports a robust beard, had he not shaven once he entered the Blackwood. His adventures in the Northern Marches had destroyed much of his ancestral armor, so he now wears what banded plate and leather he can to maintain protection. With large hands, long legs, and broad shoulders, he makes an imposing figure to face down in combat. Personality Rannic is honorable and blunt, though he has a streak of free spirit from having been separated from his home for the last four years. Though he can be a bit gruff, he's earnest enough and tends to keep his word. As with most Thaegars, you'll find him a terrible enemy or a loyal friend given enough time to make his aquaintence. He values nothing more than to be implemented back into Thaegar society, though he's become comfortable with his lot in life. Gold and glory are fine companions for the young man, but it will take more than that for him to forget his father's word or his oath to his the thane. Background * Professional Soldier (Optional) * Lower Class * Son of the Blacksmith and Basket Weaver History (Optional) Motivation Rannic seeks to slay a Dragon or Giant, and to return either head to his clan for recompense of his previous crimes. Capabilities Attributes Combat [1/1] * Two Handed Sword [2] * Unarmed [1] * Two Handed Blunt [1] * Two Handed Cleave [1] Intelligence [1/1] * Legendry [1] * History [1] * Charisma [1/1] * * * Health [1/1] * Strength [2] * Constitution [1] * Toughness [1] * Stamina [1] Faculties [1/1] * Resolve [1] * Perception [1] * Agility [1/1] * Running [1] * Outdoors [1] * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * * * Money 3 Royals, 7 Lordlings, 20 Commons Languages Drimgoth, Northern Tongue</s> <\|message\|>Kyiriniae'aea Kyiriniae'aea sagged with relief as the human mage stepped through the portal. She didn't much like humans, they could be powerful but their short roach like lives made them unpredictable and grasping. Still, given her other companions were literal cannibals, she supposed she could tolerate the arrival of so useful a pawn. "I did," she admitted, smiling winsomely and stepping forward, holding out her hand like a human noble so that the mage could take it and kiss it in the proscribed fashion. She made a gesture that encompassed room. "We are in a place called the Blackwood," she explained, taking a step back and gesturing to one of the chairs by the table in her newly cleaned study. The chaos had been put to right and she even had taken the time to properly set up the alchemical equipment in the corner. The tower still didn't quite look lived in, but it no longer resembled the ruin it had when she had first come in. "I'm afraid it was something of a desperation move," she confessed, her lip quivering ever so slightly to convey fear and vulnerability as she took her own seat. She badly wished she had some wine, but that would have to wait, instead she offered the human some of the roasted boar that her servants had brought her. "I am Kyiriniae'aea, though you may call me Kyra," she introduced herself. She chewed on the end of one of her long blonde locks for a moment before continuing. "I am afraid I have been cursed by a Warlock," she admitted, "and if you were willing to aid me, I would be forever in your debt."</s> <\|message\|>Emilio Virtoli Today was a reminder of why Emilio did not have a particular love of hilly countries. Truly it was an omen of bad business if the man had to get out of his cart and push it himself. Though perhaps it also spoke of necessity for other goods, as the stubborn would persist or unprepared fools would be in need of wares or in want of luxury. Those thoughts kept running through his mind repetition as he assessed the land idly for its goods and what needs he could meet. That was at least until they would finally be able to peer above the 'final' hill and see human form again after their hours of journey. The Dre Costan would work quickly to dust himself off. There was no time to change into more formal wear but he would be presentable for sure. Fixing his hair back and putting on a confident smile. By their way of dress it would have to be impossible to mistake them as anything other than the Knights of the Skull. A hand would pat his ass's head as he'd stride ahead. Cutting the sizable distance slowly as he spoke with a voice that would certainly reach the men. "Gentlemen, what a sight for our weary eyes! Straight from Varian's Crossing we've come here searching for Olderin's Refuge. I believe none could mistake you as anything other than its protectors." There was a certainty to his words. Strange one might think for being new travelers of Blackwood. "Any warnings, expectations, news you would wish to impart?" He'd ask as he kept his approach slow and closing the gap, cart behind. @POOHEAD189</s> <\|message\|>Name Ithaca blinked, turning to look behind her when the Draconic thing halted speaking, grunting in acknowledgment. Mari suddenly realized he was a Drogator, rumored to be a dying people. Other than a few stories of their ferocity in combat and some vague legends of them being from another world, she wouldn't know much. It was likely just surprising to see one in person. Unnverving likely. So much like a Dragon of legend, and yet somewhat similar to a man in a very eerie fashion. "Ah, you kept your word!" Ithaca said, clearly joking about being surprised. "I'm glad to see you up and about, and less smelly." She almost looked like she was going to pinch the bridge of her nose playfully, but decided to take a sip of the drink Mari got her instead. She had her priorities straight. It was clear she had already had a few, hence her stoic demeanor giving way to cutting loose a bit. "Allow me to introduce you. Kane, I would like you to meet Mari." She said, turning around on the stool to present them both to one another. "A very brave woman I met just today on the road. Mari, this is Kane. One of the most honorable fellows I've ever met. He seems tough, but throw a chicken breast and he'll chase after it like a dog." Mari heard a very threatening growl from the Drogator. It actually vibrated the wood beneath their feet. However, a moment to reflect would reveal it was actually chuckling. A few of the patrons, including a commoner couple clearly on a date gave small yelps of surprise. Comically, the girl looked at the guy she was with when she realized his voice sounded just like hers and he nearly fell out of his chair. One might not blame him but in the Blackwood, bravery was a virtue. "It is an honor to meet you." Kane said, bowing how he could in such armor. "What brings you to such a place?" "I was going to ask her that myself." Ithaca remarked, her chest facing the crowd and her elbows behind her, resting on the wood of the bar.</s>	<\|message\|>Name The mad, squealing bray of the beast behind him was almost more haunting than it's very real charge not a minute earlier. Torsten's side bit at him with a stabbing pain that simultaneously ached like he had not felt in months. But it was nothing he couldn't handle, as long as he kept his posture at a certain level. Luckily for him, the forest allowed him to move hidden behind brush and gloom. Unfortunately, it also allowed other creatures to potentially do the same. The forests of Norgard were primordial and vast, and Torsten would not feel so unused to such thick woodland. The very roots of the towering trees ripped and shaped the very earth beneath his feet, making much of the ground uneven and misshapen, and the rest would be covered in bushes or thick grass that quieted the footsteps of whatever walked upon them. What was strange wasn't the thickness of the forest, but the dim lighting. Even a forest as great as this with such a large canopy above would have more sunlight cutting into the darkness. Doing his best not to stumble, Torsten would almost not see the sudden drop in the underbrush before it reached the front half of his leading foot. Likely to his surprise and horror, he would notice the drop was actually a footprint. A footprint as large as his torso and very humanoid in shape. Small roots and vines jutted out of the now softened earth below, as if gasping for air from whence they were pressed. Luckily (in a fashion), the accompanying war cry Torsten heard next didn't sound like it came from whatever Jotun or strange forest creature. It was a piercing scream that carried bloodlust wherever it echoed, spreading across what bits of the foliage it could. Judging by the echo, it likely came from the south. The birds springing to life and fluttering away mostly came from that direction as well. When the forest spoke, one need only listen.</s>
<\|description\|>Name Race \| Age \| Sex Appearance Personality Background * Profession (Optional) * Class * Heritage History (Optional) Motivation Capabilities Attributes Combat [0/1] * * * Intelligence [0/1] * * * Charisma [0/1] * * * Health [0/1] * * * Faculties [0/1] * * * Agility [0/1] * * * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * * * Money For simplicity's sake, we're doing 3 types of coinage. Royals (Gold), Lordlings (Silver), and Commons (Copper). They each measure 20 of the previous coinage. 20 Lordlings makes a Royal and 20 Commons makes a Lordling. You will roll for your currency. You will roll a D10 for Royals, D20 for Lordlings, and D100 for Commons. Languages Rannic Ulfsson Human (Thaegar) \| 27 \| Male Appearance Rannic stands at an impressive height (6'3), with a powerful physique and callused hands made for combat. His mane of hair is as brown as a wild oak, his eyes as green as leaves. He's not unhandsome and generally sports a robust beard, had he not shaven once he entered the Blackwood. His adventures in the Northern Marches had destroyed much of his ancestral armor, so he now wears what banded plate and leather he can to maintain protection. With large hands, long legs, and broad shoulders, he makes an imposing figure to face down in combat. Personality Rannic is honorable and blunt, though he has a streak of free spirit from having been separated from his home for the last four years. Though he can be a bit gruff, he's earnest enough and tends to keep his word. As with most Thaegars, you'll find him a terrible enemy or a loyal friend given enough time to make his aquaintence. He values nothing more than to be implemented back into Thaegar society, though he's become comfortable with his lot in life. Gold and glory are fine companions for the young man, but it will take more than that for him to forget his father's word or his oath to his the thane. Background * Professional Soldier (Optional) * Lower Class * Son of the Blacksmith and Basket Weaver History (Optional) Motivation Rannic seeks to slay a Dragon or Giant, and to return either head to his clan for recompense of his previous crimes. Capabilities Attributes Combat [1/1] * Two Handed Sword [2] * Unarmed [1] * Two Handed Blunt [1] * Two Handed Cleave [1] Intelligence [1/1] * Legendry [1] * History [1] * Charisma [1/1] * * * Health [1/1] * Strength [2] * Constitution [1] * Toughness [1] * Stamina [1] Faculties [1/1] * Resolve [1] * Perception [1] * Agility [1/1] * Running [1] * Outdoors [1] * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * * * Money 3 Royals, 7 Lordlings, 20 Commons Languages Drimgoth, Northern Tongue</s> <\|message\|>Name The mage seemed to try and absorb the information. Clearly he was intelligent simply based on the look in his eye, but that didn't mean he wasn't useful. His gaze turned to the doorway, where one could see the vine covered wall of the inner tower that led down to the ground floor, and then he looked to the book cases with a monumental pile of books. It looked like he had been just as surprised to see Kyiriniae'aea as she, him. At her admittance to her plight, he almost seemed to stumble on himself. "Sure," He said, but then caught himself like someone had whipped him. "I mean- Yes, of course." He bowed and took her hand, giving it a light kiss. His voice was strong, and it had gained a bit of professionalism. "My apologies, I'm simply a little overwhelmed. I was fully expecting to fight someone to the death, not meet a lovely woman- er, Elven maiden such as yourself." He finally moved to the chair she had presented him, setting down and placing his knife in the sheath on his hip. He scratched his scalp, just below his thick mane of black hair. "Forgive me, I haven't explained much of anything, have I?" He asked. He spoke to scold himself just as much as to apologize to her. "As I said, I am Alcander. I'm an adept and mage of the Mythrin Tethir. Your portal... it was within the tower I had been given by my master, north of Greybridge city. Minutes ago I saw it come to life and I couldn't get a reading in my Crystal Sphere. It's dangerous magic to handle, though I'm certain you know that." It was clear he was used to speaking to other mages, but he was less used to speaking to elves or beautiful women and he tried to pass it off as if it were nothing. He also clearly seemed to think Kyra was far more knowledgable than he likely was, considering how old she could potentially be. "If we're in the Blackwood, then this very well might be in a Mythal Itha." He remarked, then he stood up slowly and decided to make his way over to the third bookshelf on the right, running his fingers over the spines of the books. Finally, after it looked as if he was going to take a book out and begin reading, he instead turned empty-handed. "I have so many questions but, tell me of this warlock?" Alcander placed his arm across his chest, in the same manner a man might hook his arm around a lady's, only before him rather than at his side. He bowed again. "I'll help you, if I can, Lady Kyra."</s> <\|message\|>Name Sylvaine sat down next to the Dwarf, who seems particularly downtrodden. In fact he looked like a particularly sullen bulldog that somehow learned to drink alcohol with the best of them. Judging by the empty mugs beside him and that an alcoholic haze surrounded his beard. He didn't seem to notice Sylvaine at first, finishing his fifth mug, emptying half of its contents by what looked to be a pure opening of his throat. It was almost fascinating to watch. Once the mug was down, however, he gave Sylvaine the stink eye. Though she seemed to be just charming enough to at least warrant some answers from him. "Day? Aye you could say that. More like a bloody week." He regurgitated, calling another drink. The Dwarf sighed, letting out a small belch. "Me cousin got himself lost in the Blackwood a few days ago. Ambushed by Orcs, you see. No, he's not dead. I know what yer thinking." He declared. "He's far too tough to let a little thing like violent orcs kill him off. No, he got himself lost and I hadn't the supplies or time to find him. I should go back out there, but I wouldn't even begin to know where to look." Meanwhile, Cillian found himself at a table alone. Though he had no one to speak to, it gave him a very good chance to listen. A low murmur of the crowd reverberated constantly in the background, but thankfully that didn't drown out the conversations of the closer or more prominent and interesting people. Most notably, the Skayeleigh woman that had stalked past them at the beginning seemed to know the Elven maiden and Gnome sitting with her, but it appeared they were simply there for a business transaction. A business of information, in fact. It was hard to tell exactly what they were discussing, but the mentioning of secrets and the very real bag of coin being slid across the table was something to take note of. It made sense, the city being very much a place of trade and tourism. It was logical to think someone would make it their business to know who was where and what was happening. @Romero</s> <\|message\|>Cillian Kindellan Glancing across to the bar that Sylvaine had gravitated towards, Cillian frowned slightly when he saw that she had apparently struck up a conversation with the dishevelled dwarf, rather than with the inn-keep. The dwarf certainly didn't look to be in a sharing mood, and although Cillian couldn't make out their conversation, he doubted they were discussing the acquirement of any food and drink. Or at least not for Cillian. Thankfully a lifetime of wandering, travelling wherever his feet took him, had left Cillian as a man with plenty of patience, and despite the pangs from his stomach, and the dryness of his mouth, the man from the Caelic Isles was always grateful for a moment of peace, and as he leant back in his chair, stretching out his tired legs, Cillian closed his eyes for a moment, and simply listened. It had been his mother's first story that had lit the fire within Cillian, but it had not been until he had first heard her sing that the flame had been whipped into an inferno. To hear the magic of her words, to feel the power of the legends in her voice, it had bewitched Cillian. He had spent untold hours sharing the stories he had learnt with anyone who was willing to listen, and as he had grown older, he had lent his own voice to the windswept hall of his village. Ever since that first song, Cillian had grown to appreciate the sounds of life, and as he leant back in his chair, the air around him was alive with noise, and it was like music to him. The murmur of a dozen voices filled the tavern, weaving together to form a wall of noise, each voice merging into the next, but there was more beyond that. The sound of boots on floorboards gave an uneasy beat to the symphony, and if Cillian concentrated, he could hear horseshoes on cobbles from the streets that ran past the tavern. Running beneath it all, like the silver thread along the hem of the chaotic tapestry, Cillian could still hear the roar of the river Heathric. The noise was at the heart of the city, just as the river itself was, and to Cillian, it was like the blood-flow of some mighty beast. In an instant, one noise cut through it all, and brought Cillian crashing back to reality, the tether frantically tugging for his full attention. The distinctive sound of a coin purse landing on a table, and being slid across it, was a sound that was all too familiar to Cillian, and as it cut through the hubbub of the tavern, the wandering bard was careful to keep his eyes closed, straining for the source of the sound. It didn't take him long to realise that it had come from the direction of the unusual trio that had had noticed when he had first entered. It seemed as if he would have to wait for something to eat, but his hunger was all but forgotten as he strained to overhear the conversation of the Skayeleigh warrior-woman, the Elven maiden and the Gnome gentleman. At worst, it would serve as a welcome distraction, and perhaps even make for an interesting tale. Attempt to overhear the conversation (Perception) = 1 + 1 = 2</s>	<\|message\|>Name "I have heard that bravery is much like beauty." Ithica said, whipping her head a bit like a proud stallion to get some of her hair's fringe out of her field of vision. She looked like she had decided to relax a bit on the drinking for a short moment. "It's in the eye of the beholder. I can't tell you how many times someone has thought I were brave when I was being foolish, or foolish when I was being brave. Perhaps it takes a bit of both to be a true hero." She turned Kane's way, smiling casually. "I don't think anyone would know that more than you, you big grunt." The Draconic Knight seemed distracted, watching over the crowd like a hound that had just caught a scent. Mira would catch the scent of sulfur in the air, supposedly coming from Kane's nostrils as small points of smoke wafted from them. It was extremely difficult to tell if he was angry or something else, but it was at just that moment when an older Dwarf walked out of the crowd. Mari would recognize him as the one that had been talking to the younger man Ithaca had mentioned before. The Dwarf looked like a well traveled adventurer, with a gleam of mischief in his eyes and a relatively lithe build (for a Dwarf). There was no real chance of knowing why he had approached, unfortunately, as Kane and the fellow began conversing in a strange, foreign language. Though it seemed they were on even friendly terms than Kane and Ithaca, which likely made some sense. Ithaca and Kane likely traveled a lot, just not together, happening to meet here often to trade stories and news from distant lands. The prospective daughter of Rán would see the Dwarf wave for the Drogator to follow him, and the big one would stomp through the crowd with the Dwarf. "Knowing Orek, they're likely about to go on some fool's errand deeper in the forest." Ithaca said, more to herself than Mari. Remembering the younger woman was still there, Ithaca cleared her throat. "Sorry, I get distracted." Her eyes went back to the departing two. "It's my job to know who is going where so I can save their ass if need be, or at least report missing persons. Not that those two are helpless. Po neither, if I know him." Ithaca decided to start drinking again, taking another long, hardy sip. Her biceps prominent from the simple movement. "Anyway, I doubt you'd care on what they're doing. How long do you plan to stay in town?"</s>
<\|description\|>Name Race \| Age \| Sex Appearance Personality Background * Profession (Optional) * Class * Heritage History (Optional) Motivation Capabilities Attributes Combat [0/1] * * * Intelligence [0/1] * * * Charisma [0/1] * * * Health [0/1] * * * Faculties [0/1] * * * Agility [0/1] * * * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * * * Money For simplicity's sake, we're doing 3 types of coinage. Royals (Gold), Lordlings (Silver), and Commons (Copper). They each measure 20 of the previous coinage. 20 Lordlings makes a Royal and 20 Commons makes a Lordling. You will roll for your currency. You will roll a D10 for Royals, D20 for Lordlings, and D100 for Commons. Languages Rannic Ulfsson Human (Thaegar) \| 27 \| Male Appearance Rannic stands at an impressive height (6'3), with a powerful physique and callused hands made for combat. His mane of hair is as brown as a wild oak, his eyes as green as leaves. He's not unhandsome and generally sports a robust beard, had he not shaven once he entered the Blackwood. His adventures in the Northern Marches had destroyed much of his ancestral armor, so he now wears what banded plate and leather he can to maintain protection. With large hands, long legs, and broad shoulders, he makes an imposing figure to face down in combat. Personality Rannic is honorable and blunt, though he has a streak of free spirit from having been separated from his home for the last four years. Though he can be a bit gruff, he's earnest enough and tends to keep his word. As with most Thaegars, you'll find him a terrible enemy or a loyal friend given enough time to make his aquaintence. He values nothing more than to be implemented back into Thaegar society, though he's become comfortable with his lot in life. Gold and glory are fine companions for the young man, but it will take more than that for him to forget his father's word or his oath to his the thane. Background * Professional Soldier (Optional) * Lower Class * Son of the Blacksmith and Basket Weaver History (Optional) Motivation Rannic seeks to slay a Dragon or Giant, and to return either head to his clan for recompense of his previous crimes. Capabilities Attributes Combat [1/1] * Two Handed Sword [2] * Unarmed [1] * Two Handed Blunt [1] * Two Handed Cleave [1] Intelligence [1/1] * Legendry [1] * History [1] * Charisma [1/1] * * * Health [1/1] * Strength [2] * Constitution [1] * Toughness [1] * Stamina [1] Faculties [1/1] * Resolve [1] * Perception [1] * Agility [1/1] * Running [1] * Outdoors [1] * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * * * Money 3 Royals, 7 Lordlings, 20 Commons Languages Drimgoth, Northern Tongue</s> <\|message\|>Name The Iron Star remained bustling with patrons, though as the time moved on a bit there were a few men and women who had regained their feet and headed off before the night crowd showed up. The 'business' transaction that Cillian was attempting to overhear didn't quite catch his ear, but he could see their manner and clearly knew bits of information were being passed. If he chose to remain there and do or say nothing, whatever opportunity might be there would pass. But of course, opportunities abounded in Greybridge, and he could check on his companion at the moment who seemed to be deep in conversation with a certain Dwarf. The Dwarf in question had either a bit too much (which was saying something for his stout kind) or he simply didn't care to scrutinize too much. Perhaps he was depressed? But he believed Sylvaine, and it was clear from the way he raised his head from his frothing mug, curiosity evident under his bushy brows. Of course, once Sylvaine mentioned coin, he had a sudden look of skepticism and distrusts, but it wasn't overt. It was obvious he would at least think about the proposal, and he did just that, stroking his thick beard as he considered. "Couple o' silver..." He groaned quietly and looked at his drink again. He was thinking that he could be giving them a few silver to fail or run off while he could instead use it to buy more drinks. Luckily, his Dwarven sense of clan and duty overrode his Dwarven love of ale. He suddenly spoke up. "Fine. Four silver coins, and ye get me cousin back in the week. If ye don't, yer to find me here at midday and pay me back. If I never see ye again, it won't turn out good for ye. We Dwarves have a long memory and a short temper, understand?" It was clearly a threat, but at the end of his speech, it was clear he dare not hope they would find his cousin again, lest he feel even more depressed at the prospect of failure. He handed Sylvaine four silver Lordlings just as the Skayleigh got up from the booth that Cillian was watching, making her way past his table. Her mace lightly bumped the tableside. @Romero</s> <\|message\|>Name The two were Knights of the Skull. A secretive order known for their ferocity and unwavering endurance in a fight. With those swords, it looked as if they could deal a large amount of damage as well. Emilio's words were not heeded, at least at first. The two seemed to not move for a good ten seconds, and it was hard to tell where their eyes were within the slits of their great helms. Wēlanandaz warning broke the silence, and not a moment later did the two suddenly move. An eerie palor would fall over most who saw them suddenly move, as it looked as possible as two statues that decided they were tired of standing still. "Follow us." One said. Which one was hard to tell, but the two didn't seem to wait for you to gather your thoughts of explain any of the things Emilio asked. Mercifully, the ground was far less broken and hilly now. It seemed to be almost a straight shot forward, though the trees and thickets were ever reaching and prominent around them, sometimes twigs/leaves clinging to Emilio's robes or Wēlanandaz's beard. The donkey seemed at ease at least, though if they were to try and get nearer the Knights, the donkey seemed oddly reluctant. Around half an hour later, the Knights would suddenly halt and split apart to allow your cart to pass. As you near the two, the trees give way to a stout stone wall looming out of the forested path, earthworks having separated the wall from the forest by about a dozen feet. Before you is a large wooden gateway, already slowly opening for the two of you to enter. The men atop the wall don't seem to be Knights of the Skull, or at least full fledged members. However the two would certainly see a few of them training in a small yard left of the gate, clinging to the side of the keep that shot into the sky. Olderin's Refuge, if this truly was the place, seemed to be a lowly built castle settlement, with two large walls sweeping over the landscape like a snake trying to push its form outwards. The keep, and the backgate the two now entered, was within the inner wall. The outer wall faced the north where the greater blackwood was located. As they entered, they saw two important aristocrats (judging by their clothing) speaking to one another near the training Knights, and a few squires and servants carrying horses to the stables across the way. Perhaps they would be better served finding work on the outer settlement? Pajamas@Jb</s> <\|message\|>Name Rittenvos was merely an outpost, but the fact that so many people filled the common room of the inn, and earlier when Mari saw the lively market, showcased just how much travelers and explorers counted upon this small bastion of civilization. In order to keep the flow moving, adventurers and mercenaries were likely as needed as fresh water. Little surprise then when Ithaca brought Mari across the common room to the very low-end, shoddy table that was attached to the wall. Ithaca elbowed her way over and gave Mari space to step forward, and she found herself in the company of four people. Kane sat on the ground, for the chair wouldn't be able to keep him aloft without breaking. The beast of a warrior was likely twice the weight of an already big man. She could see his thick tail splayed out behind him, resting like the tail of a crocodile. Next to him was a far shorter but still very heavy and dense fellow, Orek. He had an air of mischief and intelligence to him, and again he seemed to be leaner than most would expect from Dwarves. Likely for his traveling lifestyle. His garb was leather and cloth, though undoubtedly he had finely wrought chainmail beneath his cloak. He smiled through his beard when he saw Ithaca walk over, his pipe in his teeth. "Oh, are ye coming with us lass? Or did ye bring someone to take yer place?" Orek asked slyly. Both Orek and Kane were on the right side of the table. On the left were two striking people. One was a lovely elven woman, her blonde hair tied in a bun, her shapely form in a kalasiris, a strange priestly robe. She seemed particularly haughty in nature, raising an eyebrow at Mari when she appeared. Beside her was Po, who was even more handsome up close. His eyes sparkled with a fire that promised humor and intellect, and his dark mane of hair was cut just halfway down his neck. He was likely tall, despite the fact he was seated. He gave a friendly smile, his full lips noticably on his tanned skin. "I know you'll be having a bit of a get together tomorrow. Seeing as I'm leaving, I thought I might give you a recommendation." Ithaca said, and Mari would be playfully pushed forward a bit by the Praelian. Apparently she was still a bit too tipsy to be completely professional. "Hey," Po said casually, and he held his hand out to Mari to shake. "You were the warrior that made it here today, from the southern road?" "The one that riled the Dragon?" The Elf pipped in. "No one riled the Dragon, pointy ear." Orek said. "'Least, no one here." "Phyrrae doesn't like other women cramping her style." Po joked, which caused the elf to clearly take offense at that suggestion, though she didn't speak immediately.</s> <\|message\|>Mari Mari found herself pushed forward into a dashing group of adventurers, smiling a little awkwardly back at Ithaca. One of her sisters had fashioned her leathers, and while they were finely crafted, embossed and studded and fitted comfortably to her form, with swirling and twisting decorative elements of Norgardian design, Mari felt she was certainly the least impressive of this group. Kane and his plate armor she'd already encountered, but now she got a better look at the elven woman in her beautiful priestly robes. They were of Nestariel, the healer, or at least she thought, as the design was more exotic and archaic than other traveling priests she'd encountered before. Her gaze seemed to pierce through, but Mari paid it little mind. She was new, after all. The dwarf seemed friendly enough, Orek, and then there was Po, his hand outstretched towards her. "That's me," she said, giving it a shake. "My name's Mari, I've come from the Sea of Swords. I'm going to be here for a little while at least, so I thought I'd look for some opportunities." Her holy symbols of Rán were displayed openly hanging from her belts for the observant. She didn't laugh at Po's joke, only smiling a little, as she wasn't sure what the dynamic here was yet, and had no desire to turn the elven woman's disposition against her before they'd even begun. "I can pull my own weight in a fight and in the wild, if you'll have me."</s>	<\|message\|>Name When Torsten woke up again, it was midday...likely. The gloom permeated the forest floor, though by his prone position facing upwards, he could see the barest glimpse of the sun peaking through three small spots among the canopy. The other two lads were asleep, however judging by their light breathing, either would wake up as soon as a twig was broken. Torsten himself felt much better, at least compared to what he expected. He still ached all over and a broken rib or two wouldn't heal overnight. Torsten would lay there for a bit before any minute movements of trying to make himself more comfortable would awaken his allies, and then the three would have a hardy breakfast before breaking camp, tossing about the burnt logs and covering much of where they had been with large ferns and various foliage debris. Torsten was a tough one, getting ready and dressed like the other two despite his injuries, and after some deliberation on their path, they would begin to move south as they had been going the other day. The Blackwood seemed a world unto its own, misty far away and vaguely clear within thirty meters ahead, large trees framing every facet of every direction; inescapable. The cries of something pierced the veil of unease, though it wasn't a warcry as it was yesterday. The three warriors stiffened, able to pinpoint where the approaching man, for it sounded like one, was coming from. They would be able to deduce on if they should hide, run, or spring into action as they saw a fellow, clearly a merchant of some kind, stumbling and falling onto the overgrown underbrush of the forest floor. Behind him was a strange sight. A waif chased him in unremarkable trousers and a flowing linen top. Her auburn hair cut short and her eyes fixed on the running man. What either were doing here was unknown, but it was up to the three warriors to see what they would do in such an out of place situation.</s>
<\|description\|>Name Race \| Age \| Sex Appearance Personality Background * Profession (Optional) * Class * Heritage History (Optional) Motivation Capabilities Attributes Combat [0/1] * * * Intelligence [0/1] * * * Charisma [0/1] * * * Health [0/1] * * * Faculties [0/1] * * * Agility [0/1] * * * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * * * Money For simplicity's sake, we're doing 3 types of coinage. Royals (Gold), Lordlings (Silver), and Commons (Copper). They each measure 20 of the previous coinage. 20 Lordlings makes a Royal and 20 Commons makes a Lordling. You will roll for your currency. You will roll a D10 for Royals, D20 for Lordlings, and D100 for Commons. Languages Rannic Ulfsson Human (Thaegar) \| 27 \| Male Appearance Rannic stands at an impressive height (6'3), with a powerful physique and callused hands made for combat. His mane of hair is as brown as a wild oak, his eyes as green as leaves. He's not unhandsome and generally sports a robust beard, had he not shaven once he entered the Blackwood. His adventures in the Northern Marches had destroyed much of his ancestral armor, so he now wears what banded plate and leather he can to maintain protection. With large hands, long legs, and broad shoulders, he makes an imposing figure to face down in combat. Personality Rannic is honorable and blunt, though he has a streak of free spirit from having been separated from his home for the last four years. Though he can be a bit gruff, he's earnest enough and tends to keep his word. As with most Thaegars, you'll find him a terrible enemy or a loyal friend given enough time to make his aquaintence. He values nothing more than to be implemented back into Thaegar society, though he's become comfortable with his lot in life. Gold and glory are fine companions for the young man, but it will take more than that for him to forget his father's word or his oath to his the thane. Background * Professional Soldier (Optional) * Lower Class * Son of the Blacksmith and Basket Weaver History (Optional) Motivation Rannic seeks to slay a Dragon or Giant, and to return either head to his clan for recompense of his previous crimes. Capabilities Attributes Combat [1/1] * Two Handed Sword [2] * Unarmed [1] * Two Handed Blunt [1] * Two Handed Cleave [1] Intelligence [1/1] * Legendry [1] * History [1] * Charisma [1/1] * * * Health [1/1] * Strength [2] * Constitution [1] * Toughness [1] * Stamina [1] Faculties [1/1] * Resolve [1] * Perception [1] * Agility [1/1] * Running [1] * Outdoors [1] * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * * * Money 3 Royals, 7 Lordlings, 20 Commons Languages Drimgoth, Northern Tongue</s> <\|message\|>Name Not having given their names, Emilio and Wēlanandaz still could differentiate the now incredulous aristocrats clearly. The first one who complained the loudest was portly, with dark brown hair encompassing his curled hair to sweep down over his face and make a full, groomed goatee. His vest was purple and he seemed to be a bit more annoyed than the others when it came to the topic they spoke of. The next man was tall, with a hawk nose and a frock coat. He had hair on his head, though it was wispy and straw colored. The other looked a bit younger than them, average of height. Though he had strange, indigo eyes and black locks. He sported a dueling saber at his hip, just below a green vest of satin. The portly man looked at Emilio with only the barest hint of suppressed anger. The merchant would see that there were more armed men there than the Knights of the Skull, even if this was clearly their stronghold. The nobles had their own personal guard it seemed. It was hard to judge how many of them there were, though an educated guess would indicate anywhere from twenty, to about sixty to seventy men between all three of them. It was hard to gauge considering they did not seem to be about to venture forth themselves, with many of their men likely out and about performing various tasks. "Who the fuck are you?" The normally well mannered, bearded noble asked Emilio. He took a moment to stare down the merchant before he decided to turn away lest he order something of his guards he might regret later. "A sales pitch isn't necessarily what we need right now." The younger noble remarked, though he did seem more amused and annoyed, and perhaps even intrigued at the man who so brazenly walked up to the three of them discussing this dark business. As for the third fellow, he actually chuckled. It sounded like a chipmunk squeaking when it found it's favorite nut. "On the contrary. Bertram, perhaps this is what we need." He seemed to be referring to the portly one. "A Dwarf forged blade, or ones a stout one can vouche for, could give us an edge on whatever endeavors we find ourselves locked into." He imperiously waved a gesture at Emilio as he continued. "This fellow here seems a daring and smart one as well. Did not our father's father's become rich from such noble pursuits as salesmen." "My father gained nobility from slaying a Malgani Sorcerer that was threatening the Kingdom, Valence." The fat one snapped back. "And was he not able to afford Dwarf forged weaponry because his father peddled wares?" Valence asked. "Nathan, do help me out here." The young one shrugged. "I would like to hear what the Dwarf has to say." @Tony Pajamas</s> <\|message\|>Name "You'll have an easier time sleeping in the barn." The raven-haired woman said, doing her best to sweep whatever dust was on the porch away from the two newcomers. A strange pair by all accounts. Around them, the village was the epitome of the word 'quaint.' Men wore sporting vests of low quality whilst women wore wool dresses, though you could find either sex wearing workman's trousers if they were doing a menial job. There had to have been plenty of trade, as there was very little room for any farmland, and by any measure the soil was not made for it. The hamlet of Berute was situated in a small vale surrounded by jagged faces of rock that could hardly be called mountains. More like upjumped hills made of stone, guarding the small area from the greater Blackwood and it's more pressing dangers, at least that was the idea behind the town's inception. There were two known ways in and out; the southern route and the northern route. The two adventurers had made their way through the south, from left the town of Gladstone a week previously. Their provisions now low, Berute seemed like a dream come true. Lovely thatched houses and little in the appearance of deadly beasts. The only real indication this was still within the Blackwood was the large trees that had been spaced a bit less thickly as they hiked through the glens and glades toward the little village. Cows and other livestock had been grazing in the forest beside them as they had walked, which was likely the town's main source of food and comfort. Now, the two had sought a place to stay for the night as any would expect them to. As it were, that didn't seem to be working out. "Look..." the woman said, leaning her broom on the wall and facing the two. She was a pretty woman with green eyes, though it was easy to imagine them flaring in severity if she grew angry. "I do deeply apologize for the lack of space. But we do have a barn. It's clean and we can provide some blanket. All you'll need to do is pay for the food." A cart passed behind them, two handsome horses carrying a load of crates. Behind it, an Elf played a tune on a lye as two Dwarves grumbled, hauling sacks of grain while trying not to tell the elf to be quiet too harshly. Truthfully it was a beautiful melody, but Dwarves weren't elven fans at the best of times. @Tortoise</s> <\|message\|>Cillian Kindellan Cillian had risen to his feet as he spoke, and as the unusual pair turned to look at him, he took a tentative step closer to their table, the well-rehearsed smile never leaving his face. If nothing else, his introduction seemed to distract the pair from squabbling over the fat coin purse, and that was as good a start as any. The pause in bickering was only short-lived, and Cillian quickly got the impression that the elf and the gnome were old friends, arguing back and forth, each looking to gain the upper hand. Cillian's smile didn't falter, but behind the pale blue eyes, his mind was racing to keep up with the overlapping intricacies of the conversation. He had the distinct feeling that he was being played, the pair perhaps sniffing out the oppurtunity that a fumbling newcomer might present. He had names now at least, but even those set him ill at ease. The elf was Saskia, and the gnome Calvin, but it had been the gnome's reaction that had surprised Cillian. Was it simply being introduced as a sidekick that had taken him by surprise, or was it the name itself? Before Cillian could ponder too long on the thought, his mind caught up with his ears, and he realised that the pair were looking at him expectantly. Ever the showman, Cillian grinned widely again as he spread his arms wide. Perhaps the pair were looking to swindle him, or perhaps it was simply idle curiosity, but whatever the reason, they had agreed to be his audience, and Cillian had never been one to walk away from a willing audience. Taverns had been his stage countless times in the past, and despite the unfamiliarity of the city beyond the building's walls, the bard was in his element, the fire behind his eyes slowly flickering into a blaze as he spoke. "I have many tales to tell, if you only have the time, but it is a tale that I cannot yet tell that has brought me to this fair city. Ever since I was a boy, clinging to my mother's skirts, I was haunted by dreams of darkness. But this was not the darkness that plagues all children, the darkness of shadows and things that go bump in the night, this darkness was deep, and it called my name. It was only as I grew older, and heard the tales and legends of the world, that I learned the name of that darkness. The Blackwood. Ever since that day, the darkness has continued to call to me, and although my path has been long and winding, I always knew that it would eventually lead me here. The inky darkness waits on the other side of the raging waters, and I know that my fate lies within it. I am a man of legends and grand tales, and the Blackwood will grant me my greatest stories, I need only for someone to strike the first match. Friends, the two of you strike me as seasoned travellers, familiar with these parts. I wonder then, if your paths have ever led you beyond the water, and into the darkness beyond..." Cillian allowed himself to tail off, the sound of his own heart pounding in his ears, a single pale eyebrow raised towards the pair. He hoped that his hunch was correct, that the unusual pair would not be lingering in Greybridge without having travelled into the Blackwood, or at least know the tales of those that had. Perhaps this was a dead end, perhaps it would simply an oppurtunity to waste away some time, but Cillian could not shake the clinging sense that there was something else here, something more. Attempt to charm the unlikely pair, in hopes that it might loosen lips (Charm) = 3 + 1 = 4</s>	<\|message\|>Name It did indeed have coin involved, she would soon find out. Any ring recaptured by them sold for twelve thousand silver lordlings, which equated to six hundred gold royals Orek was quick to point out. Any information on their whereabouts was also richly sought after. Were Mari to attempt to perceive, she might try and deduce who sought what from the rings. Of course, asking them was always an easy choice as well. The night did not last much longer, at least for most of the folk. The party died down soon after, and though the troupe stayed up into the night, darkness enshrouding their visages as they drank and spoke, even they began to grow weary. Phyrrae was the first to decide it was time to call it a night, though she decided it was even more prudent to go and order a few drinks for the journey in case they needed a little loosening up after a victory for celebration, so she now stood at the bar alone, awaiting the bartender to return from another duty. Orek and Kane stayed where they were, speaking in low murmurs in their ancient tongue. Pipe and dragon smoke wafted around them, and any who sat near them would feel a very ancient conversation and feel as one might when listening to a tale of old. Kane had devoured an entire chicken earlier, and Orek near matched him. The old Dwarf seemed to know far more than any in the place, and perhaps more than anyone Mari had ever met. There was something in his eyes that spoke of untapped experience along with not an insufficient amount of cleverness. Po had taken to speaking with Ithaca for a brief period on one of the newly vacated tables at the center of the room. However, Ithaca was one of the ones who needed to find sleep early. That left Po at the table, having found himself drawn into an old book with leather bindings, a dragon mark being the only noticeable aspect of the cover. Beside him was his walking staff and a jug of water he idly sipped. Before Ithaca had left for bed, she approached Mari and gave her a smile. She looked between her and the others. "I know we only just met, but I feel like you're the responsible one. Keep an eye on them." The warrior said. Placing a hand on Mari's shoulder, she clapped it powerfully. "Stay out of trouble too. If you're alive in two weeks, I'll buy you another drink." With that, Ithaca made her way up stairs to bed. The night grew darker as the outside lights were snuffed out, and now Mari saw three lights within the room. One at the table with Orek and Kane, another light above Po, and the third beside the lounging Phyrrae across the room. Would she go to any of them? Or go to sleep?</s>
<\|description\|>Name Race \| Age \| Sex Appearance Personality Background * Profession (Optional) * Class * Heritage History (Optional) Motivation Capabilities Attributes Combat [0/1] * * * Intelligence [0/1] * * * Charisma [0/1] * * * Health [0/1] * * * Faculties [0/1] * * * Agility [0/1] * * * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * * * Money For simplicity's sake, we're doing 3 types of coinage. Royals (Gold), Lordlings (Silver), and Commons (Copper). They each measure 20 of the previous coinage. 20 Lordlings makes a Royal and 20 Commons makes a Lordling. You will roll for your currency. You will roll a D10 for Royals, D20 for Lordlings, and D100 for Commons. Languages Rannic Ulfsson Human (Thaegar) \| 27 \| Male Appearance Rannic stands at an impressive height (6'3), with a powerful physique and callused hands made for combat. His mane of hair is as brown as a wild oak, his eyes as green as leaves. He's not unhandsome and generally sports a robust beard, had he not shaven once he entered the Blackwood. His adventures in the Northern Marches had destroyed much of his ancestral armor, so he now wears what banded plate and leather he can to maintain protection. With large hands, long legs, and broad shoulders, he makes an imposing figure to face down in combat. Personality Rannic is honorable and blunt, though he has a streak of free spirit from having been separated from his home for the last four years. Though he can be a bit gruff, he's earnest enough and tends to keep his word. As with most Thaegars, you'll find him a terrible enemy or a loyal friend given enough time to make his aquaintence. He values nothing more than to be implemented back into Thaegar society, though he's become comfortable with his lot in life. Gold and glory are fine companions for the young man, but it will take more than that for him to forget his father's word or his oath to his the thane. Background * Professional Soldier (Optional) * Lower Class * Son of the Blacksmith and Basket Weaver History (Optional) Motivation Rannic seeks to slay a Dragon or Giant, and to return either head to his clan for recompense of his previous crimes. Capabilities Attributes Combat [1/1] * Two Handed Sword [2] * Unarmed [1] * Two Handed Blunt [1] * Two Handed Cleave [1] Intelligence [1/1] * Legendry [1] * History [1] * Charisma [1/1] * * * Health [1/1] * Strength [2] * Constitution [1] * Toughness [1] * Stamina [1] Faculties [1/1] * Resolve [1] * Perception [1] * Agility [1/1] * Running [1] * Outdoors [1] * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * * * Money 3 Royals, 7 Lordlings, 20 Commons Languages Drimgoth, Northern Tongue</s> <\|message\|>Mari Mari came to with the sun and the sounds of the waking town, slipping out of bed with an alertness and energy she hadn't felt for the last few days. Something about the potential of the day to come, no doubt. She put herself together with haste; there was no time (or point) to a bath, but she was sure to at least wash her face and attempt to tame her mess of auburn hair. Getting all of her armor and gear on wasn't a swift process, but she'd done it enough by now to do so without thinking, finishing by fastening her heavy sword belt, laden with weapons and pouches and holy symbols, around her waist. Slinging her wooden shield over her shoulder, Mari made her way out of the room and collected a quick breakfast. She didn't have much of an appetite, but made sure to at least get something in her belly for the long road ahead. She headed for the northern gate to meet up with the others, noticing Kane first, and the dwarf and elf second playing their game off to the side. Mari had played before with her sisters, enough to recognize the underhanded move Phyrrae pulled when Orek greeted her. "Good morning!" was all she said back to the pair of them. The Murkrift Kane spoke of as their road, a place in the forest not teeming with Orcs, but perhaps something else that they seemed hesitant to speak of. Po seemed to believe it would be manageable when he arrived with the other fellow, Sinclair, and that was enough for Mari. She didn't wrench her hand away when he grabbed and kissed it, though she also didn't hide her eyeroll. Vrettonian by his accent, and somehow Mari wasn't surprised. When he released her hand, she let it rest casually on the hilt of her blade, but Po interrupted before she could pick a response, sending Sinclair to speak more with the dwarf. "Thanks for that," she said under breath. "This Murkrift, you said the water's acidic? Something dwells within it even still?" Orcs she figured she could handle with her sword, but acidic water and unknown things sleeping within wasn't something she knew how to approach. Not yet, anyway.</s> <\|message\|>Name Within five hours, Emilio and Wēlanandaz found themselves setting up shop as the sun began to set in the distance. It would have been a good time to get a bead on their fellow merchants, but their day was winding to a close. Thankfully, Emilion and Wēlanandaz had gotten a great location thanks to Emilio's lawyerings and the Dwarf's impeccable craftsmanship. The architecture around them was clean and well carved, and at the center of a small courtyard was a large fountain where the small amount of citizenry enjoyed spending their time. As the two of them cleaned their shop, which was a larger shop area with a counter, and an area to hang up whatever items they might have, there was a knock at the door, and without waiting for an answer a slim woman wearing a business suit entered, looking around. Her hair was cut short and her eyes were covered in spectacles. "Yes, is this the...are you Emilio and Wēlanandaz? Here are the contracts you wished for. You will speak to the lords tomorrow to give them your answer on their offers of discounts or supply." She declared, handing Wēlanandaz the papers. She seemed to never smile, scrutinizing the two of them as if they were unwanted feral dogs that happened to wander into the fortified town. "I have been told you two have two rooms to accommodate you here. The lords are being quite generous to you both. Do appreciate it." The most prominent area that Wēlanandaz would appreciate was in the small area in the back, where a small place for a forge had been set up. Unfortunately, there was only a bloomery out there. They would need to purchase the anvil, the coals, and the tools, unless they had already brought any of them via their donkey and their cart. Pajamas@Jb --- The forest around them was deathly quiet, which merely served to make their struggles seem louder. Or his struggle more like. The fellow that was running seemed a bit too well fed to be out and about in the Blackwood alone. In real time, he tripped over what was an easily surmountable and visible root stuck out of the ground. He clawed his way forward before evidently not wishing to die with his backturned, rolling over to pull himself backward. "No, please! Don't kill me, foul woman!" The woman was certainly following him, but she made no move toward a weapon, or even had a stance that betrayed her being aggressive save the fact she seemed greatly annoyed by the look on her face. The fat merchant saw Torsten and his two companions step out of the wood, and he looked as if the Gods had answered his prayers. Cheeks flushed, he called to them. "Please kind sirs, save me! She is a werewolf! A foul northern witch of Norgard I say! Kill her before she speaks!" The woman stopped when Torsten ordered, but she did not answer him immediately. She crossed her arms. "Am I a witch or a werewolf? Which is it you oaf." She stepped forward and reached out to him, and as he scrambled away she grabbed at his coinpurse and hefted it in her hands. Turning to the newcomers, she held out her other hand defensively. "This man tried to cheat me at cards. I saw through it and beat him at his own game. For some reason he thought it magic." "It was sorcery, I swear." The merchant pleased, breathing heavily. "I saw the card change in my hand! Even my fellows were bewitched to her."</s>	<\|message\|>Name Saskia plucked the coin from his hand, a small 'ping' echoing when the metal touched one the undersides of her rings. She looked as pleased as any money grubber when presented with money, though it was plain to see that Cillian's tale had softened her mood and endeared her a bit. Calvin took a large swig of his ale while Saskia scooted over and let Cillian sit there beside her. The Elf placed the coins in her coinpurse and then cupped her hands around her flagon, taking a swig herself. "The Blackwood, yes. I assume you'd want to hear about the local woods, right?" "The dangers?" Calvin piped in, trying to be helpful. It was evident he also wanted to hear, like a child hearing a ghost story for the thrill and entertainment. "Of course." Saskia laughed lightly. "Keep in mind I don't know every terror you might face, but my information is reliable. The local woods aren't too dangerous. Maybe a Varghulf pack here or there, or a chimera looking to feast. Or bandits, of course." The prospects were but a muse to her as she considered. "Now, if you are to travel northwards, you'll find the Blackwood Baronies. Petty lords fighting for territory over Gorthaur the Wraithking's shattered lands. Some say the Wraithking, or at least some of his minions, still reside there. To the east, wretched bogs and dense forests of fey spirits. If you're lucky you'll run into a Centaur or an Elf, though they are not of my kin and will shoot you if you haven't a good reason to be there. Even for me, it is hard to determine what they would want. I do hear some of the forest gods demand a sacrifice." "Heard some nastiness, I have." Calvin said. "Some people get taken by them and are never seen again." Saskia shrugged. "Couldn't say what happens to them. Maybe they're taken to the broken realm of the fey? Either way, your biggest worry is southwards. I hear a large horde of Orcs is passing through the southern Blackwood, and there have been rumors of demon cults in some of the fortified towns. Not to mention the Dragon..." The Elf took a huge swig of her drink, and clapped it back onto the table as any hard man would. "The roads are difficult eastward. The north is likely the safest in terms of travel, but in staying? Not too sure. Hope this helped." LEVEL UP You gain 2 skill points to spend them where you like! --- "No problem." Po said to her easily, one hand on his staff, though he looked a bit embarrassed a moment later. "Sorry, I didn't invite him, but he did save my life before and insisted on coming." As for her question, he seemed to sober up a bit. "A Dragon. Maybe. Not the one that Ithaca said you saw, but another one, we think. No one really knows for sure, but people have gone through the Murkrift before and lived. We might need to if the Orcs aren't gone within a day. For now I think we'll just move north until we can be sure." Behind them both, Orek fished into his pocket and paid Phyrrae a small price of coins for her victory over him in their board game. To make the Dwarf's mood even more sour, Sinclair made it to him and gave a bow. "Monsieur Dwarf, I am ready for adventure." He proclaimed, politely inclining his head to the Dwarf, hand on the hilt of his admittedly beautiful sword. His accent was as thick as ever and hard to make out. "I am packed and have food for two days travel. When is the next city we will make berth at?" "Three days." Orek said, sardonically cheerful. He picked himself up off his seat on the porch and smiled to the man. Kane had already made it to the foot of the gate, standing there like a primordial guardian. Sinclair's face turned comically distraught. "Assuming it hasn't been razed to the ground by Orcs, and that's also assuming we don't go through the Murkrift bog, which we probably will. Anymore questions or can we begin our trek?" "Erh..." Sinclair seemed at a loss for words. "We'll discuss it when we make camp tonight." Po piped in, having stepped forward beside them. His easy going smile defused the sternness of the conversation in a fashion. "Don't worry Sinclair, I've plenty of food to share. Plus everything in the Blackwood is huge. Whatever food is in there, it'll fill us up." "Provided it's not poisonous" Phyrrae said, striding past Sinclair who glanced at her the way an unwanted man often did. Her scowl had him looking away, however. Phyrrae made her way beside Mari, a strange star-headed scepter in the elven woman's hand. As the group made it to the gate, Kane let out a burst of flame from his mouth, halting all conversation for the moment. It was akin to a bonfire being shot out of the mouth of a small crocodile. "Let us embark!" He announced. LEVEL UP You gain 2 skill points to spend them where you like!</s>
<\|description\|>Name Race \| Age \| Sex Appearance Personality Background * Profession (Optional) * Class * Heritage History (Optional) Motivation Capabilities Attributes Combat [0/1] * * * Intelligence [0/1] * * * Charisma [0/1] * * * Health [0/1] * * * Faculties [0/1] * * * Agility [0/1] * * * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * * * Money For simplicity's sake, we're doing 3 types of coinage. Royals (Gold), Lordlings (Silver), and Commons (Copper). They each measure 20 of the previous coinage. 20 Lordlings makes a Royal and 20 Commons makes a Lordling. You will roll for your currency. You will roll a D10 for Royals, D20 for Lordlings, and D100 for Commons. Languages Rannic Ulfsson Human (Thaegar) \| 27 \| Male Appearance Rannic stands at an impressive height (6'3), with a powerful physique and callused hands made for combat. His mane of hair is as brown as a wild oak, his eyes as green as leaves. He's not unhandsome and generally sports a robust beard, had he not shaven once he entered the Blackwood. His adventures in the Northern Marches had destroyed much of his ancestral armor, so he now wears what banded plate and leather he can to maintain protection. With large hands, long legs, and broad shoulders, he makes an imposing figure to face down in combat. Personality Rannic is honorable and blunt, though he has a streak of free spirit from having been separated from his home for the last four years. Though he can be a bit gruff, he's earnest enough and tends to keep his word. As with most Thaegars, you'll find him a terrible enemy or a loyal friend given enough time to make his aquaintence. He values nothing more than to be implemented back into Thaegar society, though he's become comfortable with his lot in life. Gold and glory are fine companions for the young man, but it will take more than that for him to forget his father's word or his oath to his the thane. Background * Professional Soldier (Optional) * Lower Class * Son of the Blacksmith and Basket Weaver History (Optional) Motivation Rannic seeks to slay a Dragon or Giant, and to return either head to his clan for recompense of his previous crimes. Capabilities Attributes Combat [1/1] * Two Handed Sword [2] * Unarmed [1] * Two Handed Blunt [1] * Two Handed Cleave [1] Intelligence [1/1] * Legendry [1] * History [1] * Charisma [1/1] * * * Health [1/1] * Strength [2] * Constitution [1] * Toughness [1] * Stamina [1] Faculties [1/1] * Resolve [1] * Perception [1] * Agility [1/1] * Running [1] * Outdoors [1] * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * * * Money 3 Royals, 7 Lordlings, 20 Commons Languages Drimgoth, Northern Tongue</s> <\|message\|>Mari Mari gains... +1 Perception +1 Diplomacy A dragon. Brilliant. Mari would take her chances against orcs over facing a dragon dwelling in an acidic swamp, but if indeed it slumbered, perhaps it was the best bet. Three days' travel or more sounded like an ordeal, but Mari had the suspicion that any travel in these woods was risky to begin with. She had enough rations for herself, and could stretch them if need be. Probably wise to do so regardless, in case matters on their route got complicated. It was a diverse and interesting group of adventurers she'd manage to attach herself to, and Mari doubted that feeling of being the "new girl" would go away any time soon. They all seemed to know each other and have experience working together, to some degree. She walked alongside Phyrrae as they set out, quiet at first, keeping an eye on her surroundings and a hand always near her blade's hilt. The woods were calm in the morning, beautiful even, and she made a point to enjoy it while she had the chance. "You've a quick hand," she said quietly to the elven woman. "Not the first time you've won coin from Orek at that game, I'm guessing."</s> <\|message\|>Cillian Kindellan Cillian could barely hear the elf over the roaring in his ears. He had heard the stories about the Blackwood, huddled around distant campfires or above the merriment of a dozen different taverns, but they still lit the fire within himself. Lost souls, fey spirits, an orc horde, demonic cults, if even half of the things that the elf was saying were true, then Cillian would find enough adventure to write a hundred songs. He had always known that his path would lead him into the darkness of the Blackwood, but even as the fire blazed into an inferno, he caught himself. When he was a younger man, he had been hot-headed, impetuous, too quick to throw himself into the jaws of danger just to feel the rush of adrenaline, just to feel alive, but he was older now, and he had not made it this far without cooling off a little. Wiser? Perhaps not, but he had enough scars across his body to have learnt a few lessons. His first instinct was still to leap at the opportunity, and the elf's words were more than enough to make Cillian want to plunge into the very heart of the Blackwood, but age, and experience, had given Cillian enough of a second instinct to stop and think. The spell seemed to break, and the hunger pains in Cillian's stomach suddenly came to life again, almost making him wince. Even the drink the elf's hand was enough to make his mouth dry. The Blackwood had been calling to Cillian for as long as he could remember, he was sure that he could ignore the voice for at least another night. Letting the easy smile on his face remain unflinching, Cillian nodded his thanks towards the elf. "You have been more than helpful, friend, thank you. I hope I am not imposing too greatly if I offer to buy you both a drink for your time. Something hot to eat perhaps?" Cillian was a stranger in a strange town, and the unusual pair across the table were the closest thing to friends that he had. If nothing else, they seemed as if they would be good company while he filled his belly and satisfied his thirst, and if he was to head across the river and into the depths of the forest, then this elf maiden, this 'Saskia' was the closest thing to a guide that he had found. If he could tease some more information out of her for the price of another flagon? Then he would consider the day a success. Attempt to convince the pair to stay awhile and share a drink (Charm) = 5 + 2 = 7</s> <\|message\|>Name Three days past the city of Andorhaven, the sun was finally loving some of its luster. The past few days it had been bright, with ne'er a cloud in the sky to hide the passing of Aeryn the dark maiden. When carriages or patrols passed her, she did well to either hide her face or hide her presence, but now the Blackwood bore over her in full. The melancholic dim of the looming forest was almost a comforting blanket to her, though even she would be aptly aware of its myriad of dangers. With no steed to speak of, she still made good time. Elves, even dorcha could move swiftly under both the sun and the moon, needing little in the way of sustenance unless tired beyond the norm. However, closing in on four days of travel without much respite would wear on nearly anyone. She would need to make camp for the coming night, if for no other reason than to sit and eat what rations she had, and to acclimate to her new surroundings. The landscape was filled with brush and thick grass, the trees growing thicker and covered in moss. Some had great rending claw marks that told the paths of great beasts, but none looked fresh, thankfully. If she continued east, in two days time she would make it to the Blackwood Baronies, if the peddler was to be believed. Perhaps there she could get her bearings and find rumors of treasure further south, or even find work as a mercenary. The Baronies weren't known for their tolerance, but many Barons were often desperate. Who knows, some might be in need of a woman who could pull off subterfuge and assassination. The possibilities, much like the Blackwood, were nearly endless. Moving from tree to tree, Aeryn's keen ears could pick up soft sounds in the distance. A few guttural giggles, though it was clear they weren't at her expense. She could hear further than most could see, and her eyes were nearly as keen. If she were to look to the south, a small scene unfolded before her. Three hunched figured, skin mottled and burnt and ears stretched like they were made of hot wax, anyone of Dorcha blood would recognize gundarogs. They poked and prodded a dead man in the brush a hundred yards away, having found a nice treat in the small clearing they now stood in. The largest gundarog took its jagged sword and began sawing at the man's left arm, clearly taking a large piece to feast upon. Aeryn then heard another noise. One she wouldn't recognize, and yet it was hauntingly familiar. Her eyes saw movement before it became apparent what else lurked in the Blackwood. To her (and particularly the gundarog's) surprise, a huge wolf the size of a warhorse suddenly charged out of the tree line, moving like a normal wolf would when going after a rabbit or a deer. The large gundarog had no chance in hell, the thing's maw clamping over half of its body and rending it mercilessly. Before the second monster could make a cry of anguish, it was shoved into the dirt by the predator's paw, crushing its rib cage and keeping it immobile and helpless. The last gundarog loped away as quickly as its long limbs could carry it, sending it straight into the direction of Aeryn. Gundarogs had good eyes in the dark, but it wasn't looking at Aeryn as it ran. What was the dorcha to do?</s>	<\|message\|>Name Valerie Richardson blinked, surprised at the Skayleigh. Most humans, particularly non-fighters would be cowed or intimidated by the half giant's intimidating glare and manner. But she seemed to made of sterner stuff than that, which would make sense. The valley they were in was peaceful, but they were still in the Blackwood after all. "You seem to misunderstand me. Seeing as you're not human, I'll give you another chance to try that again." She said, hands on her hips. "We don't have a room, which is why our cook and my boss made sure I didn't offer one. You get the barn, or you can keep walking until you find another place to sleep. Do you understand or is there a way I can make it more clear, because I hope I can make your stay as pleasant as possible." She spoke through gritted teeth. The responsible but tired woman had been replaced with someone who was not going to take any further shit from someone that day. The next day... Arden had slept well, despite the distant howls of wolves to the east. His tall, lean form was tougher than most soft humans, so he barely felt any discomfort from the hay once the blanket was put over it, and the food was provided helped ease his mood. Valerie had showed him to where the barn lay, but the blankets and the food that were provided to him was by a small boy named Leder. He barely said much of anything, though he seemed wide eyed and curious on the strange tall newcomer. This morning, Leder had opened the barn door and brought him his food by setting it down on a crate. It was fresh bread and ham, with fresh squeezed orange juice. Not knowing if Arden was asleep or awake, he didn't say anything to the Skayleig. He did seem to contradict his carefulness when he took a poster of parchment paper and began hammering it onto the front door of the barn. Quite loudly, one would notice. On it were two missing men, with a reward for fifty gold royals each for finding them alive, and 30 royals each for finding their bodies. Last seen north of the hamlet. --- "Are you mad!? You're siding with such a witch!?" The fat man blathered, and it became clear he was on some sort of alcoholic beverage or narcotic. "Sir, you are out of your min-" The next thing Torsten and his companion's knew, the man had been knocked out by a kick to the head from the woman. It wasn't a particularly savage one, and once she was done she made no further moves to harm him. The slim woman seemed to just be glad that was over with. No danger seemed to be creeping up on them from behind or beyond, so at the moment it was safe to just focus on their present situation, which was a woman and an unconscious card cheater. "I just had to shut him up. Believe me, carrying him will be a lot easier than listening to him if we are to make it back to Oakhollow." She said, tying her coinpurse on her leather belt. On it, Torsten would see a basilard dagger strapped to it at her hip. "That is why you came this way, right? Oakhollow's the only real settlement this side of the Blackwood, after all. Or are you hunters? Big game is very prized in the inner Kingdom of Andred, I hear. I'm a newcomer myself from the Northern Marches." Pulling at her vest and fixing it, she blew a fringe of hair out of her eyes and approached the three men, holding a hand out to shake for any that would grab it. "I am Alanya, daughter of Burgrave Rochestor. If you're going to Oakhollow, I'll follow. Otherwise this seems to be hello and goodbye."</s>
<\|description\|>Name Race \| Age \| Sex Appearance Personality Background * Profession (Optional) * Class * Heritage History (Optional) Motivation Capabilities Attributes Combat [0/1] * * * Intelligence [0/1] * * * Charisma [0/1] * * * Health [0/1] * * * Faculties [0/1] * * * Agility [0/1] * * * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * * * Money For simplicity's sake, we're doing 3 types of coinage. Royals (Gold), Lordlings (Silver), and Commons (Copper). They each measure 20 of the previous coinage. 20 Lordlings makes a Royal and 20 Commons makes a Lordling. You will roll for your currency. You will roll a D10 for Royals, D20 for Lordlings, and D100 for Commons. Languages Rannic Ulfsson Human (Thaegar) \| 27 \| Male Appearance Rannic stands at an impressive height (6'3), with a powerful physique and callused hands made for combat. His mane of hair is as brown as a wild oak, his eyes as green as leaves. He's not unhandsome and generally sports a robust beard, had he not shaven once he entered the Blackwood. His adventures in the Northern Marches had destroyed much of his ancestral armor, so he now wears what banded plate and leather he can to maintain protection. With large hands, long legs, and broad shoulders, he makes an imposing figure to face down in combat. Personality Rannic is honorable and blunt, though he has a streak of free spirit from having been separated from his home for the last four years. Though he can be a bit gruff, he's earnest enough and tends to keep his word. As with most Thaegars, you'll find him a terrible enemy or a loyal friend given enough time to make his aquaintence. He values nothing more than to be implemented back into Thaegar society, though he's become comfortable with his lot in life. Gold and glory are fine companions for the young man, but it will take more than that for him to forget his father's word or his oath to his the thane. Background * Professional Soldier (Optional) * Lower Class * Son of the Blacksmith and Basket Weaver History (Optional) Motivation Rannic seeks to slay a Dragon or Giant, and to return either head to his clan for recompense of his previous crimes. Capabilities Attributes Combat [1/1] * Two Handed Sword [2] * Unarmed [1] * Two Handed Blunt [1] * Two Handed Cleave [1] Intelligence [1/1] * Legendry [1] * History [1] * Charisma [1/1] * * * Health [1/1] * Strength [2] * Constitution [1] * Toughness [1] * Stamina [1] Faculties [1/1] * Resolve [1] * Perception [1] * Agility [1/1] * Running [1] * Outdoors [1] * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * * * Money 3 Royals, 7 Lordlings, 20 Commons Languages Drimgoth, Northern Tongue</s> <\|message\|>Aeryn Fengwyn It quite obviously had not been her day, Aeryn thought as she gazed down at her feet. A blister on the side of her ankle from walking. She prodded at it with her forefinger, the sharpness of her nail popped the skin and it began to leak down over her skin to pool upon the fabric of her sock. She shrugged at it nonchalantly, putting her boots back on again - the sting was only minor, and the rumble in her stomach louder. She was at the last of her rations, and she pulled out from her bag the last strips of meat she had. They were worse for wear now, covered in the dirt from the inside lining of the bag, and dryer still. Luckily, she had her secret weapon tucked away. As she pulled it out, she licked her lips and almost smiled. The corners of her mouth curling mischievously as she turned the lid off the jar. It popped, and a small amount of steam flowed over the rim as she gazed down into the bubbling liquid. Chilli jam. Happily, she dunked the strips of meat into the sauce. It would have been considered far too hot for a regular palette. She had witnessed men cry at a very sniff of the stuff, here she was being incredibly liberal in the application of it on her jerky. Shrouded under her cloak, she remained hidden up in the branches of her chosen tree. Rations finished, she was still hungry. Her ears picked up the quiet little click-clack footsteps of a tree-beetle to her left. She raised a brow, and looked left and right as if by instinct, hoping nobody else was around even if she knew there was not. Swiftly, she grabbed the crunchy bug and shoved it into her mouth as it still wriggled in her grip. It wriggled more in her mouth, one of it's squirming legs escaped her lips until she bit down into the centre. It was... [i]Runny[/i. She frowned. "Blech," she mumbled out as it dribbled over her lip. There was only one thing that would wash down the taste. And then she took a swig from the jam as if it were a drink. A sneaky, hot belch followed. She was no longer hungry, and somewhere in the trunk of the tree, there would be a newly orphaned nest of tree beetles. --- Some moments later, all hell had broken loose in the distance -- and that distance was coming toward her at full speed. Her reflexes kicked in, and she armed herself first with the crossbow. Wolf was a bigger threat than the Gundarog, but the wolf was also a majestic beast, and the Gundarog was an ugly creature. The wolf would provide her with a nice warm pelt and enough meat to last her for days. But the Gundarog was an ugly creature. If she left the Gundarog for the wolf, the beast would soon be full and come after her. She had to think fast. Finally, she fired off a bolt from the crossbow -- directly above the Gundarog. She sent it splintering into a weakened branch on a nearby tree. It came tumbling down with a crash, right between the Gundarog and her. "Give all rations and I kill wolf," she said.</s> <\|message\|>Torsten Meier "I am Alanya, daughter of Burgrave Rochestor. If you're going to Oakhollow, I'll follow. Otherwise this seems to be hello and goodbye." Torsten shook the woman's hand as did his compatriots in turn. "My name is Torsten Meier. Most folks just call me Torsten." As she shook her friend's hands, he introduced them to her. "This is Ulf Gunnerson, otherwise known as Wolf." Wolf was a small wiry man about five and a half feet tall. Although his brown hair was starting to gray already, the man was only thirty three summers in age. His Fu Manchu mustache and beard were peppered with a few gray hairs as well. Wolf simply nodded towards Alanya. He didn't know what to say. The second friend stood 6' 4" tall, with rippling muscles bulging over his arms, legs and chest. He was a very impressive man to look at; handsome to boot. One wout noticed his bleached blonde hair, with his beard in a tight braid dangling off his chin and ending below the top edge of his hauberk. "This jötunn is Njal Osborne or Oz." "Nice to make your acquaintance, ma'am," Oz stammered out. "We'll travel with you to Oakhollow," Torsten responded. Then he looked at Njal. "Oz, would you mind carrying the fat little man?" "Not a problem, Tors." Njal tossed the unconscious man over a shoulder like he was a sack of onions. It was no difficulty for the man to carry the smaller man than it would for a horse to carry anyone. "We are all from Norgard. We have been travelling for several weeks to get here. I guess you could see we are on something of a wanderlust; adventure seekers." Torsten was concerned that maybe he said too much already. Not everyone has nice thoughts about Norgardian. "So who exactly is your father? I have never heard of Burgrave Rochestor." Torsten would engage the woman in small talk as they headed through the forest in the direction of the settlement.</s> <\|message\|>Name Phyrrae sniffed at the comment, but with Mari's quick eyes she did see a small, self satisfied smile on the elf maiden's face. "I'm not sure what you're talking about." She replied, though the woman did keep her voice down all the same. "If I were to do something like that, he'd never play a game with me again." With that, Phyrrae drifted into herself as the group trekked deeper into the murky forest. Orek took the lead, at least in spirit. Po was often at the fore, his staff bumping against the ground with every two steps, though he often slowed down to make sure everyone was safe and in line. Even on the road, the forest seemed to reach out and cling to you. Phyrrae eyed the forest with suspicion, and whilst Kane didn't seem to be afraid of anything, it was clear he was alert the way he moved. "I cannaught believ we could naught even bring a mule." Sinclair said, breaking the monatany of the walk. He wasn't just complaining, as it became evident he had embroiled himself in a discussion of spoils with Orek. The Dwarf chuckled through his well groomed beard. "Last I checked, seven rings wasn't that big of a haul." He rumbled, smirking at the duelist. "Besides, as long as we find the place we can get back there easy enough to take the rest of whatever loot there is. If I were you, I'd be happy we don't have a beast here that might get spooked and run off with all of that treasure you're hoping to get your hands on." "I'm pretty sure Kane can carry quite a lot." Po remarked casually, an easy smile on his face as he walked beside them. His staff was now on the back of his shoulders with his arms up and resting on it. His skin was tanned and his arms were toned from a life of manual labor. He could likely lift quite a bit as well, but Dwarves were known for their ability to haul large loads, so despite being the second tallest, Orek could give Po a run for his money in carrying capacity. "Stupid," Phyrrae breathed. "Counting your vrikerumbles before they bear honey..." Likely a comment on the three of them assuming they would find anything. Meanwhile, Kane had actually lagged behind a few feet. The massive humanoid's shoulders were still slightly taller than the top of Mari's head, though there was a comforting aura about Kane. He had the look of a careful and loyal friend to match how fearsome of an enemy he would be. "Mari, I have a question to ask if you would honor me." The Drogator growled, his large tail scraping along the ground audibly. "Are you a powerful warrior among your kind?" He asked. "Traveling the Blackwood alone is something most humans would not do." He watched her curiously, Mari likely having seen lizards who looked the same when they were on alert for predators or prey. "What brings you here on our journey?"</s>	<\|message\|>Name The sun was still in the sky, but it had notably lowered into the west, casting light along the table as they spoke. It was clear the Elf and Gnome weren't entirely used to a stranger passing through Greybridge to seek company with them out of the blue, as the two exchanged looks when he asked if he could buy them a hot meal and a drink. Despite speculating, it was clear Calvin was up for it to a point. As if on cue, his small stomach growled audibly, causing Saskia to roll her eyes. "That's kind," Saskia remarked, eyeing Cillian for a moment. "We have been here for awhile, however." "Not too long." Calvin interjected, elbowing her. "Besides, we haven't eaten anything since we sat down. We can at least enjoy a meal from our new friend before we depart, eh?" Two elves with braids and riding leathers strode into the front door as a few laborers stalked out into the streets. The city seemed as lively as ever, with raucous conversations mixed with hushed meetings in the corner of the Iron Star. It drowned out the silence of Saskia, who shrugged her shapely shoulders after she deliberated. She seemed to lower her wariness quite a bit actually. "I guess I should relax. After all I just made a fortune and you're wanting to buy me dinner. What's not to like?" She replied, calling over two drinks for her and Calvin on Cillian's dime. She got a Banian Whiskey, one of the strongest recreational drinks menfolk had. "Though, I am curious. What makes you so enamored with the Blackwood, my friend? You do know it's a death trap. Even a bard would have a hard time finding glory in there without a touch of death. You don't even have a Knight or monster slayer to follow. Will you go in alone?" "Oh and the city is always safe?" Calvin asked. "At least the city is predictable. The Blackwood is filled with nameless things and creepy crawlies." Saskia shuddered for a moment, though her comfort returned tenfold when she got her whiskey. Calvin received and Andredian mead for a light buzz and a warm stomach to go with his meal. "Yes, tell us your end goal, friend." Calvin suggested to Cillian.</s>
<\|description\|>Name Race \| Age \| Sex Appearance Personality Background * Profession (Optional) * Class * Heritage History (Optional) Motivation Capabilities Attributes Combat [0/1] * * * Intelligence [0/1] * * * Charisma [0/1] * * * Health [0/1] * * * Faculties [0/1] * * * Agility [0/1] * * * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * * * Money For simplicity's sake, we're doing 3 types of coinage. Royals (Gold), Lordlings (Silver), and Commons (Copper). They each measure 20 of the previous coinage. 20 Lordlings makes a Royal and 20 Commons makes a Lordling. You will roll for your currency. You will roll a D10 for Royals, D20 for Lordlings, and D100 for Commons. Languages Rannic Ulfsson Human (Thaegar) \| 27 \| Male Appearance Rannic stands at an impressive height (6'3), with a powerful physique and callused hands made for combat. His mane of hair is as brown as a wild oak, his eyes as green as leaves. He's not unhandsome and generally sports a robust beard, had he not shaven once he entered the Blackwood. His adventures in the Northern Marches had destroyed much of his ancestral armor, so he now wears what banded plate and leather he can to maintain protection. With large hands, long legs, and broad shoulders, he makes an imposing figure to face down in combat. Personality Rannic is honorable and blunt, though he has a streak of free spirit from having been separated from his home for the last four years. Though he can be a bit gruff, he's earnest enough and tends to keep his word. As with most Thaegars, you'll find him a terrible enemy or a loyal friend given enough time to make his aquaintence. He values nothing more than to be implemented back into Thaegar society, though he's become comfortable with his lot in life. Gold and glory are fine companions for the young man, but it will take more than that for him to forget his father's word or his oath to his the thane. Background * Professional Soldier (Optional) * Lower Class * Son of the Blacksmith and Basket Weaver History (Optional) Motivation Rannic seeks to slay a Dragon or Giant, and to return either head to his clan for recompense of his previous crimes. Capabilities Attributes Combat [1/1] * Two Handed Sword [2] * Unarmed [1] * Two Handed Blunt [1] * Two Handed Cleave [1] Intelligence [1/1] * Legendry [1] * History [1] * Charisma [1/1] * * * Health [1/1] * Strength [2] * Constitution [1] * Toughness [1] * Stamina [1] Faculties [1/1] * Resolve [1] * Perception [1] * Agility [1/1] * Running [1] * Outdoors [1] * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * * * Money 3 Royals, 7 Lordlings, 20 Commons Languages Drimgoth, Northern Tongue</s> <\|message\|>Cillian Kindellan For a moment, Cillian held his breath. His offer seemed to hang in the air, fragile, and as the unusual pair glanced at each other, he did not know which way their decision would fall. He had spent much of his life rubbing shoulders with strangers, and he had always found an ease in forming brief, fleeting moments of companionship, but even so, the air seemed to crackle with anticipation. Not for the first time, it was the small frame of Calvin that came to the wandering bards aid. Cillian's face broke into a wide grin as he watched the elf-maidens shoulders shrug. For the next brief moment at least, Cillian would have company, and most importantly, a potential audience. As Saskia called for a drink, Cillian followed her lead, signalling not only a mead for himself, but also three hot meals. Calvin had made it clear that he wouldn't turn down some food, and if the elf wasn't hungry, then Cillian's growling stomach would certainly be willing to pick up the slack. He listened intently as the pair continued to bicker, his face not showing any sign of the thoughts whirling through his mind. The clear dislike of the Blackwood in Saskia's voice may go some way to crushing his initial ideas of creating an unusual travelling party, but that same bile in her words suggested that he was right when he suspected that she knew more about what lurked in the shadows than she might have already told him. The sun was dipping towards the horizon as they continued to talk, but Cillian had already conceded himself to the fact that his long dreamed about voyage into the calling darkness would have to wait at least until dawn. If he had to spend an evening in this strange city, then he could think of worse places than in a bustling tavern! A lull in the conversation alerted the bard to the fact that his input was required, and the thread tugged him back to the moment. Two expectant faces were looking at him from across the table, but Cillian's smile did not falter. A lifetime of a wandering mind had instilled in Cillian the ability to have his ears act almost independently, and it took only a moment for the thread to remind him of the question that had been levelled at him. Cillian's relaxed smile broke into a wide grin, and he felt the fire in his heart begin to burn brighter again. The tavern was beginning to fill as the evening drew in, and Cillian was careful to raise his voice a little, both to be heard above the bustling noise, but also with the intention that if there was curious ears nearby, they would be able to hear his words. "Why am I drawn to the Blackwood? For the same reason that the baby bird leaps from it's nest. It is in my blood. All of my life, I knew that my path would lead me here, that I would travel across the river and into the heart of darkness itself. Will I go in alone? I admit, I do not yet know. The Blackwood has haunted my dreams, it's call like that of a siren, but those dreams only show my path, they do not show whether I walk alone, or with other's at my side. Perhaps before this night is out I will have a companion, perhaps there are comrades waiting for me across the river, or perhaps I am destined to travel into the darkness alone. For now though, I am happy to eat, drink and be merry, for only the gods know what the new day will bring!" A tankard of mead had arrived at Cillian's elbow, and he was quick to grab it, raising it across the table towards the unlikely pair. His smile was wide and warm, his eyes flashing in the firelight that lit the tavern. "To your good health, friends, and to being merry!" Pay careful attention to the reactions of Saskia and Calvin, as well as the rest of the tavern, at his mention of companions, to see if he can gauge any interested parties (Perception) = 4 + 1 = 5</s> <\|message\|>Name Leder seemed a bit too preoccupied with hammering the poster for him to answer the Skayleigh right away. BANG BANG BANG it sounded. Not very loud to a man, but to the sensitive ears of the Skayleigh it was like the gongs of a great bell. Though when Leder got a good look at the grumpy giant-kin he stared for a moment, not afraid but obviously curious at the nature of this strange, long limbed newcomer. "You hungry, mister? Miss Richardson can probably make you some pork sausage and eggs." He offered, pointed behind him with the hammer. His eyes then fell on the food the Skayleigh had already half devoured. "Oh, wait yeah I brought you some breakfast already. Sorry I take things to a lot of people. Miss Richardson says I'm the best helper in the village and I don't want to let her down. She also pays me in apples!" At the Skayleigh's question, Leder thought for a moment. The sun in the sky brought in a good bit of warmth into the barn, and Leder's blonde hair seemed to shine brightly in the light. "I think you just go do it, sir. I'm not sure you'll need to accept anything. But the men on there are Gregory and Hamond Garder. They're too brothers who go and check the roads every now and then every week. I think they just didn't come back this time. Not sure what happened." It was clear the kid didn't know too much, but he did continue. "I think you go to the center building at the middle of town. Mr. Falsted is the mayor. He's the guy to ask. You just go down the road past the inn and turn left and you can't miss it. There's a big statue at the center of town of the great hero, Dragonsbane!"</s> <\|message\|>Name 2/8, the branch hits the Gundarog The Gundarog had loped in her direction haphazardly like a frightened, unagile ape. A credit to its race, it still would have been hard to spot by human eyes once it left the brief glimpse of sunlight. No wonder these creatures of the underworld had found a safehaven in a forest like the Blackwood. However, the thing was certainly not expecting to find a Dorcha even in the forest of shadows. It nearly tumbled over the ground before catching itself, and once its eyes fell on Aeryn, it quelled at the very sudden new threat before it. That was, until the branch hit its head and knocked it out. Meanwhile, the massive Wolf was sniffing the ground a bit as it chewed on its second meal. It seemed to have gotten a hold of its impulses for food, pawing at the ground as it finished what flesh was in its mouth. Already it had dug through the shoddy armor of the Gundarog it had killed, its entire torso and head now within the beast's gullet. Suddenly, behind the thing, two wolf pups slunk out of the brush. They were clearly very young, even though they were nearly the size of your average guard dog. One bounded into view while the other moved mischievously, eyeing the forest around it for anything curious. What was left of the first Gundarog, they began to nip and pick at, clearly wishing for a different kind of meat but not about to complain when they're filling their bellies. Aeryn had the opportunity to check the Gundarog's pockets and knapsack as it lay there, out cold. If she wished she could kill it, or she could awaken it or take it with her. While she deliberated, she would pick up another sound from her sensitive ears. A voice, obviously male and pleasant to the ear somewhere behind her. Not very close, within a mile at least and drawing closer in a fashion. Clearly walking toward past their location, but would they come close enough to attract the wolves? At the current moment, the mother wolf was too preoccupied with her whining pups, the soft grunts and whistles they made causing her to perk her lupin ears as she licked them. Decisions, decisions...</s>	<\|message\|>Name Alyana had a dazzling smile, letting the three men introduce themselves in their fashion and giving them a personal greeting each time. She shook hands with whoever allowed it and patted Oz on the shoulder, clearly enjoying his shyness. From what little she said, she seemed a well traveled woman. She would have had to be, being out in the middle of the Blackwood with naught but a crazed merchant for company. The women straightened her belt, as it was laden with traveling items like a seax and sacks of food and maybe even coin, and she began to walk with the men. "Norgardians? You're far from your homeland." She remarked, leading them southwest. Or was it northeast? No, they came from the north. Even now the Blackwood seemed to swallow up any sense of direction, much like some of the more enchanted forests in Torsten's homeland where village elders warned naughty children to keep in bed at night or something from within would sneak into any norgardian village and snatch them away. In fact, the three warriors might have passed through such forests in the north, and yet this one seemed even dimmer in hope than those beast infested places. "Then again, I suppose Andred is the next region south unless you count the marches Bania claims as its own." She had a peculiar accent that Torsten might need to think on, as it was subtle and not Andredian in its inflection. She smirked once Oz lifted up the merchant, though she seemed impressed with the big man's strength. "Sorry about him." She said earnestly, and then perked up once Torsten asked about her father. Alyana chuckled. "Oh, I don't expect you to have heard of him. He's a merchant, though thankfully not like this one. I just figured you Norgardians introduced yourselves by stating who your father was. Maybe I am stereotyping." Despite the gloom of the forest, the next few miles weren't dangerous to the four travelers and their fat man baggage. They made good time, and before the hour was up the forest began to thin for a short few paces before it disappeared entirely, and they found themselves at the edge of a vast clearing. Not large enough to be called' grasslands,' it was a very, very vast field. At the center of it was something Torsten likely had no seen before. The hollowed stump of a tree, the tree in question being large enough to hold a village of giants, or in this case, a sizeable town of humans. The entrance was a carved archway, and was well lit in the fading sun. If it weren't for the lights and the guardsmen standing before the entrance, it would have seen like an abandoned carcass of an old world wonder. As it was, they saw people walking into the entrance just as they crested the line of trees. "Oakhallow." Alyana said simply. "I hope you boys have some money, or you'll be sleeping under the stars tonight. Unless you find the forest more accommodating."</s>
<\|description\|>Name Race \| Age \| Sex Appearance Personality Background * Profession (Optional) * Class * Heritage History (Optional) Motivation Capabilities Attributes Combat [0/1] * * * Intelligence [0/1] * * * Charisma [0/1] * * * Health [0/1] * * * Faculties [0/1] * * * Agility [0/1] * * * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * * * Money For simplicity's sake, we're doing 3 types of coinage. Royals (Gold), Lordlings (Silver), and Commons (Copper). They each measure 20 of the previous coinage. 20 Lordlings makes a Royal and 20 Commons makes a Lordling. You will roll for your currency. You will roll a D10 for Royals, D20 for Lordlings, and D100 for Commons. Languages Rannic Ulfsson Human (Thaegar) \| 27 \| Male Appearance Rannic stands at an impressive height (6'3), with a powerful physique and callused hands made for combat. His mane of hair is as brown as a wild oak, his eyes as green as leaves. He's not unhandsome and generally sports a robust beard, had he not shaven once he entered the Blackwood. His adventures in the Northern Marches had destroyed much of his ancestral armor, so he now wears what banded plate and leather he can to maintain protection. With large hands, long legs, and broad shoulders, he makes an imposing figure to face down in combat. Personality Rannic is honorable and blunt, though he has a streak of free spirit from having been separated from his home for the last four years. Though he can be a bit gruff, he's earnest enough and tends to keep his word. As with most Thaegars, you'll find him a terrible enemy or a loyal friend given enough time to make his aquaintence. He values nothing more than to be implemented back into Thaegar society, though he's become comfortable with his lot in life. Gold and glory are fine companions for the young man, but it will take more than that for him to forget his father's word or his oath to his the thane. Background * Professional Soldier (Optional) * Lower Class * Son of the Blacksmith and Basket Weaver History (Optional) Motivation Rannic seeks to slay a Dragon or Giant, and to return either head to his clan for recompense of his previous crimes. Capabilities Attributes Combat [1/1] * Two Handed Sword [2] * Unarmed [1] * Two Handed Blunt [1] * Two Handed Cleave [1] Intelligence [1/1] * Legendry [1] * History [1] * Charisma [1/1] * * * Health [1/1] * Strength [2] * Constitution [1] * Toughness [1] * Stamina [1] Faculties [1/1] * Resolve [1] * Perception [1] * Agility [1/1] * Running [1] * Outdoors [1] * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * * * Money 3 Royals, 7 Lordlings, 20 Commons Languages Drimgoth, Northern Tongue</s> <\|message\|>Name Alyana had a dazzling smile, letting the three men introduce themselves in their fashion and giving them a personal greeting each time. She shook hands with whoever allowed it and patted Oz on the shoulder, clearly enjoying his shyness. From what little she said, she seemed a well traveled woman. She would have had to be, being out in the middle of the Blackwood with naught but a crazed merchant for company. The women straightened her belt, as it was laden with traveling items like a seax and sacks of food and maybe even coin, and she began to walk with the men. "Norgardians? You're far from your homeland." She remarked, leading them southwest. Or was it northeast? No, they came from the north. Even now the Blackwood seemed to swallow up any sense of direction, much like some of the more enchanted forests in Torsten's homeland where village elders warned naughty children to keep in bed at night or something from within would sneak into any norgardian village and snatch them away. In fact, the three warriors might have passed through such forests in the north, and yet this one seemed even dimmer in hope than those beast infested places. "Then again, I suppose Andred is the next region south unless you count the marches Bania claims as its own." She had a peculiar accent that Torsten might need to think on, as it was subtle and not Andredian in its inflection. She smirked once Oz lifted up the merchant, though she seemed impressed with the big man's strength. "Sorry about him." She said earnestly, and then perked up once Torsten asked about her father. Alyana chuckled. "Oh, I don't expect you to have heard of him. He's a merchant, though thankfully not like this one. I just figured you Norgardians introduced yourselves by stating who your father was. Maybe I am stereotyping." Despite the gloom of the forest, the next few miles weren't dangerous to the four travelers and their fat man baggage. They made good time, and before the hour was up the forest began to thin for a short few paces before it disappeared entirely, and they found themselves at the edge of a vast clearing. Not large enough to be called' grasslands,' it was a very, very vast field. At the center of it was something Torsten likely had no seen before. The hollowed stump of a tree, the tree in question being large enough to hold a village of giants, or in this case, a sizeable town of humans. The entrance was a carved archway, and was well lit in the fading sun. If it weren't for the lights and the guardsmen standing before the entrance, it would have seen like an abandoned carcass of an old world wonder. As it was, they saw people walking into the entrance just as they crested the line of trees. "Oakhallow." Alyana said simply. "I hope you boys have some money, or you'll be sleeping under the stars tonight. Unless you find the forest more accommodating."</s> <\|message\|>Torsten Meier There was something like Alanya that piqued Torsten's interest. She oozed a certain charismatic flair that instantly made her a friend to their trio. He forgot about how or why she was with them. Seeing the lump of flesh on Oz' shoulder did remind him occasionally during their walk. "Yes, we are definitely Norgardians and we are definitely far from home." Torsten felt no problem with allowing Alanya know where their homeland was. "We've traveled extensively on the sea, but occasionally find the opportunity to travel over land. It appears we are in that situation now." Torsten looked at Wolf, "what direction?" Wolf looked up and at the rocks and trees. "South?" the man responded. "We are definitely traveling southwest," Torsten offered. "South is close to Southwest," Wolf defended his response. "You're right, my brother. The trail does arc back to the south on occasion too." Torsten listened to Alanya as they walked along the path. Her accent was one he was familiar with. He had heard it before on one of his voyages, but just couldn't place it. Maybe if he thought about it for a while longer, it would come to him. "Where are you from, Alanya?" Maybe it was her speech patterns, voice inflection, her looks, or chemistry. He found himself slowly being attracted to the woman. He did not understand the feeling. In fact, he pushed himself away in his mind, refusing to admit the feeling to himself. He didn't have time for such frivolity. "Pardon me, my father was a hunter and a tracker like me. We excelled in finding people or game and bringing food from the forest back into the village." Torsten considered what she said. "That custom is true with some villages, but not all," Torsten smiled at her. It took Torsten time to process what he was looking at when they finally cleared the forest. "You know, at firt glance, that looks like the stump of a tree felled years ago, but it can't be. It circles a town. Is that Oakhollow?" Torsten then thought about the name of the town and realized yes! The tree was an Oak and now it is hollow. Oz laughed a hearty laugh, with the fat man bouncing on his shoulder as he laughed. "Oak Hollow!" The big man bellowed out a huge laugh. The party approached the archway in the side of the tree trunk or town. The group was impressed with the etchings, carvings in the wood. "Beautiful," Wolf allowed in a low tone, commenting on the size and design of the town's exterior. "Hopefully, the fee for a room isn't too expensive. We should be able to cover it." Torsten smiled at Alanya. "Thanks for leading us here. It has been quite some time since we have seen civilization." Torsten paused and remembered the fat man. "Oh!? Where do you want this one?"</s> <\|message\|>Arden "The best helper in the village ?" Arden asked, an honest smile already appearing on his face. "You could be damn right about that!" This young boy, after all, actually had been the first one to welcome him with true friendlyness and curiosity instead of anything more stonewalling or outright prejudicative -- or at least these aspects had been part of the Skayleigh's first impression of the owners of this place. He was glad to have a reason to leave it now. So the two persons in question were brothers and indeed they seemed to be missing. If Arden was honest this wasn't a good sign for brothers had a tendency to take much greater care of each other and to go ahead with a better plan and more significant motivation than individuals who had been randomly assigned to a certain task. His feeling told him that something very serious, if not outright nasty, must have happened, but of course he needed to investigate. Not without weapons and armor though, that was for sure by now! "Thank you, Leder!" The village had a mayor ? Ah yes, the ubiquitous urge to build up hierarchy. It wasn't like his own people would have been spared from such by nature, but still the fact had come in as a little surprise for the place really didn't seem to be that big and, at least for the Skayleigh, 'mayor' had always sounded like it involved something larger. Anyway, if a certain Mr. Falsted was the one in charge here and also the one potentially holding some more information that was the guy to go to. Arden turned around and back towards the haystack in order to pick up his posessions, then hit the road. Before turning around the corner and thus getting out of Leder's sight, he twisted his head around briefly and looked back at the young boy. He tried to memorize his face and appearance, just in case he'd need to find Leder again. A few minutes later, the half-giant stood in front of yet another door too small and with the statue of Dragonsbane in view behind him. Hopefully Mr. Falsted was not some remote relative tied into Mrs. Richardson's family tree somehow, otherwise this was an endeavour doomed from the start! Carefully, Arden knocked at the wooden door. 1x d8 = 4</s>	<\|message\|>Name "Rán," he rumbled. The reverberations in his throat were somewhat palpable even though Mari was a few feet away. She would feel that Kane could roar or yell extremely loud if he truly felt like it, which put his booming voice earlier into perspective. That was his normal voice. "Yes, I know of the Sea Goddess. It was said her daughters had become a fallen order, but I hear many things in travel. Orek would likely know all about the Goddess. He knows how to...erm...'cut through the bullshit.'" Kane reiterated almost mechanically. As the companions up front spoke and walked, Mari's keen eyes would gaze about the strange forest. Even so close to the settlement, the trees seemed unnaturally dark, and even the sunlight seemed slightly dim on the open road. It would be all too easy for an enemy or even wildlife to be lurking within the brush, but as she gazed around she saw little sign of anything dangerous. Instead she saw another path, well worn and made by both men and animals it looked. Far into the treeline it delved until it went over a small, leaf covered crest into the greater wilderness. But nothing else had occurred thus far. No one had either noticed it or felt it was of any consequence. "Well, I think you are well on your way to becoming a fine warrior, as you seem to have survived much." Kane continued. There was a small crack behind them, but it was only a branch his tail had crushed with its bulk. "I do look forward to truly seeing your skill in battle. Maybe you can duel one of us tonight for a wager of honor? After we eat, that is..." "Don't start thinkin' of food already. We still've a ways tae go!" Orek called back to him after catching wind of Kane's only mildly loud voice.</s>
<\|description\|>Kyiriniae'aea High Elf \| 301 \| Female Appearance Tall lithe and Blonde with eyes of striking blue, Kyra is the very picture of a highborn elf maiden. Her sorceress powers lead her to neglect her physique somewhat so she isn't as well muscled as many of her kindred. Though her features are elegant she lacks the sharp edges which give some elves a haughty and ethereal beauty Personality Upon first appearence, Kyra (as she calls herself to avoid terrible attempts at pronouncing her name) presents herself as friendly and easy going. She seems to embody the positive traits of her kind, appearing friendly, wise, giving and benevolent while working hard to mitigate the natural haugtiness of the long lived and most civilized of races. All of this is a pose. As an elven maiden of a hundred summers Kyra accepted a dare from some of her fellow elves to gaze into the waters of a forbidden spring. In the rippling waters she beheld the image of Volduressë the outcast Goddess of the Dark Elves. The Banished Queen showed her the strands of the future and the pain and suffering she would endure throughout her long life if she persisted on her current path. She also showed Kyra a glimpse of what she might become, the power she might wield if she gave herself over to the worship of the Elven Goddess. Kyra agreed and returned to her people, outwardly unchanged and laughing the experience off as nothing more than another legend without any basis in fact. Inside however she was forever changed. Her heart became calculating and cruel, after the fashion of her new Mistress she began to long for chaos and destruction, forsaking the path of light and civilization to follow the dark impulses that her kin had spent so long in suppressing. Background * Woods Witch * Sorceress * Heritage History Kyra has left the silver cities of her people and walked among the lands of men, spreading discord and strife wherever she goes but always with the craft and patience of her kind. She has come to the Black Wood at the behest of Volduressë who has communicated to her in dreams and visions that the key to the next stage of her ascension lies within... Motivation Amass power. Smite enemies. Please Volduressë. Capabilities Attributes Combat [1/1] * Intelligence [1/1] * Alchemy * Botany * Literacy * Religion Charisma [1/1] * Deception * Mongering * Seduction * Diplomacy Health [1/1] * * * Faculties [1/1] * Concentration * Willpower Agility [1/1] * Mysticism [3/3] * Sorceress - Weaver --- Equipment * Sword * Idol of Volduressë * Alchemical Equipment Money 7 Royals 17 Lordlings 21 Commons Languages Elven Northern Bewitch: With a wiggle of your fingers and a few choice words, you can alter someone's outlook unless they are particularly strong willed. Dazzling Eyes: When you meet eyes with someone you can choose to cast this spell. Like a spark, it'll set men's (or women's if they are so inclined) hearts racing and sear you into their memory. Beguiling lips: Your most powerful enchantment. A thorough kiss and they will be under your spell for a limited time. Polymorph: You can turn any man-sized creature or smaller into a sheep, goose, duck, etc. Can only be cast once per post. Warpbolt: You pull magic from the Fey realm to bend reality and send a fairly dangerous missile of chaos at a foe. Shocking Jolt: When you grab or strike someone, you can send 200 volts into their body. More damaging if you use both hands. Glide or Blink: You can choose between letting your character glide on command for a short length of time, or letting them disappear and appear elsewhere within 20 feet or so. Your choice. Parlor Tricks: You can snap and make a small flame appear, make sparkles on your hands, pull a card out of your sleeve, make your voice louder, anything that is relatively minor and fairly harmless.</s> <\|message\|>Emilio Virtoli Diplomacy = 8 + 3 = 11 The Dre Costan showed no signs of tiring from the boy's repetitive questions. All the more he seemed just as excited and lively. "Ah, but where there are towns there are people. Where there are people, my services shall always be required. Setting disputes, evaluating valuables, and moving about the general necessities of the world." Emilio spoke with elegance outwardly to the child, as if he had prepared this spiel his entire life. "Oh, and of course my friend here." He'd gesture with flair to Wēlanandaz. "Monsters mean armor and weapons are in great demand yes? Well what finer is there than expert Dwarvern make?" The question was exclaimed proudly and entirely rhetorical, though he'd move on before the child could comment on it. "I am certain one way or another it shall be an exciting and prosperous venture. You yourself found this to be your own service after all. I am certain you have heard much and more of the Blackwood. It would make me most grateful if you could tell us some more of what to expect. Anything you've heard of the locals, the closest towns or villages. Any and all is appreciated." An eye would look from the man to the shore as they made a turn towards it. A seemingly entire lackluster and lone spot. "Ah, and directions. Truly you would wish for us to make it safely yes? After we have made our fortunes here we would remember those that labored along the way." Emilio would add on with a cheery smile and tone. All but antithetical to the rowing man's silence. "Of course I'd hope the same to be true of myself. Should I find any weary souls who wish to turn their way back for an honest fee, I would all the more direct them to the one who had the same guided safely our own passage. I'd need a name of course for such a man and I would not ask without bestowing my own. Emilio Virtoli, merchant, as you already well know." A seated half bow was added on, not wishing to rock the boat overly much as they were soon to be pulling onto land.</s> <\|message\|>Mari Screaming was the last thing Mari intended to do. She'd allowed herself to be ambushed, distracted as she was by the wyvern's arrival, which she'd only narrowly avoided by luck, but now her instinct was to fight rather than let fear rule. She reached for one of her daggers, but a strong hand caught her wrist. The voice behind her promised her no harm. It took a few seconds, but finally Mari relaxed her muscles and slowed her breathing, the woman letting her go as soon as she did. If she'd wanted to kill Mari, she had a perfect chance already, and hadn't used it. That was good enough. Mari cautiously checked to make sure the wyvern was still occupied with the ogre, then turned about. Ithaca, she introduced herself as. A Praelian name if she'd ever heard one, with a look to match. Taller than Mari, and well armed and armored. What she promised sounded like a much needed bit of good luck. "Lead the way," she instructed, eager to put the gulley and the wyvern well behind her. Only when the sounds of the creature feasting on the ogre's corpse had disappeared did she venture her own introduction. "I'm Mari, of the Sea of Swords. What's this town we're headed to?"</s> <\|message\|>Name "Oi! Get the fuck out'o the way!" A cry sprang up from behind them. Similar cries rose and created a cacophony of sounds from those behind, clearly unamused that the two made it to the front of the line to negotiate rather than pay immediately and give someone else a chance. For the notary's part, he blinked at the strange bedraggled girl and her foreign companion. It was understandable why, as Greybridge was an Andredian settlement and she was clearly Vrettonian, and her story was vague, what's more. However, it also could have some plausibility, as many mercenary companies from either country was bought by the other to confuse the their enemy during their frequent wars. It almost looked like the man in the extravagant hat was going to deny them, but at the yelling from the crowd to get a move on, he seemed to acquiesce after another moment's thought. "Very well, to your great service blah blah yes, only 5 Lordlings." He whispered to them harshly. "From both of you." Once paid, he would raise his head and wave about a crop-like crudgle. The four halberdiers in the center rose their weapons automatically as if they were Dwarf-made machines powered by steam. Behind him lay Greybridge, the gothic agate jewel of the north. Even during the day, the city had an ominous, dramatic quality to its architecture. Some compared the looming and thatched two or three-story buildings that flooded the city to one of the haunted cities found in Henry Forthwright's melodramas. Leering gargoyles could be found atop a few buildings in the distance, though what lay around them was a small marketplace in the center of a widened three way street. They would be practically shoved inside, and once within it was like a jungle of buildings surrounded by a throng of Greybridge citizens that went about their daily business. You have some flexibility on what you would like to do. You could roll to find a shop or someone to speak to with a faculties (perception) roll, or you could be creative and do something unexpected. Ask away if you have any questions. @Duck --- Ithaca had begun to lead her northwards, through numerous thickets of dark trees until they finally stumbled upon a well trodden path. It seemed to go east and westwards, though it likely snaked back around to where she had been at the mouth of the gulley. A great brown horse stood tethered to a tree, proud and powerful with a well groomed black mane. It snickered when it saw Ithaca, clearly happy to see her once again. "Geiá sou diké mou Bucephalus." She whispered to the steed, untying the reins from the tree, just as glad to see the horse as well. She made it look all too easy to mount the steed, holding a hand out for Mari to take. "The Sea of Swords?" She asked, hoisting Mari up to sit just behind her. Ithaca let Mari sling her shield around herself and sheath her sword before she had Bucephalus begin at a trot. "You must have traveled through the borderlands to get here. Durgony yes?" They made their way deeper into the forest path, letting the sun pass into tangled shadow beneath the canopy above. The trees were somehow both healthy yet gnarled by some unseen grimness, though the sounds of the birds around them showed no evil was yet near, if there was any at all. "It's Rittenvos, of the people of Eisenland." Ithaca explained, glancing back at Mari for a moment. "You chose a strange road to come here, though I suppose it is the most direct road. I like that. Nothing reaches the heart of an Orc like a straight thrust through the chest. But yes, Rittenvos. It has the largest inn near the southern border, and plenty of tradesmen. I won't ask you much on your quest, for no one would travel like you unless they had an important errand. But you very well could find what you are seeking there." The road warden spoke with a certain surety that would strengthen the heart of anyone hearing it. But it was not to last, for a moment later a most dreadful sound erupted from the skies above. It was so brutally loud that it was not so apparent what made the leaves upon the branches shake until Ithaca and Mari's senses had regained their faculties. It was a roar so terrifying and powerful it shook one's very bones. Among the sudden calamity Bucephalus whinnied, the dauntless horse bucking briefly in abject surprise and fear. "Dragon!" Ithaca gasped, doing her best to rein Bucephalus before the horse threw them off, calming within moments due to its training and Ithaca's prompting. Mari would have to cling to the warden so as not to fall off, and once the three had halted in the forest path, there was another terrible roar, albeit further away.</s> <\|message\|>Name A Gundarog hissed in fear and hatred, recoiling from her sudden appearance. It grabbed a wickedly barbed spear on instinct, but its companions had yet to attack, so in awe were they at the unexpected and immediate introduction from the strange sorceress. It seemed an undecided thing on what they would do until two of them abased themselves before Kyiriniae'aea, obviously too afraid to speculate. The other two were less decided for a few brief moments, and the one that had grabbed the weapon seemed on the brink of throwing his spear or running. However, it soon dropped its weapon and joined its fellows, just as the third did. The Gundarog that had held the baby heard her demands, jitteringly rising, looking at her and trying to speak in its broken northern. "B-Bright Lady? Yes! Yes, Bright Lady we..." It sibilated, unused to speak of the thing they dared not walk under. "The s-s-sun does not touch here, Bright Lady. The shadow of Lord Gorthaur has been cast upon this forest, gnash its wooden bones! Claw it! Bite it! Burn the villages into nothing!" It erupted into a brief, psychotic cackled until it realized it was (likely) speaking to someone who could obliterate it with a look. It took two steps toward her, moving like some broken misshapen thing. It very well could have been. Many Gundarogs had warts and humps that made their movements queer but did not diminish their effectiveness in killing. No wonder its voice sounded like verbal depression and bloated malice. "The Blackwood is forever changed, yes. Long ago when Gorthaur had first arrived, he brought the realm of shadow with him. Now shadow lingers until the unmaking the world..." "What does the Bright Lady command!?" One of the bowed ones cried out, shrill in pitch. "We can shows you to villages! To towers! Yes, yes Ladies love towers?"</s>	<\|message\|>Kyiriniae'aea Kyiriniae'aea relaxed ever so slightly as it became obvious that her deception had been an effective one. These creatures might be repellent but they were obviously familiar with the Blackwood which meant she could make use of them. She might not have chosen Gundarogs as allies, but they certainly had their uses... provided of course they were properly subservient. "Yes, we shall begin with these towers," she agreed magnanimously. That sounded like just the kind of shelter she would need if she didn't want to risk having her throat cut everytime she needed to take a nap. "We shall leave as soon as you have eaten," she told her new minions. "I shall keep the human whelp for my own supper but...." she trailed off and then made a snapping gesture with her hand. A bolt of magical energy snapped from her finger and struck the Gundarog who had been slowest to accept her assumed authority square in the chest, dropping him to the ground with a sizzling pop. "I see no reason you should make the journey on an empty stomach..."</s>
<\|description\|>Kyiriniae'aea High Elf \| 301 \| Female Appearance Tall lithe and Blonde with eyes of striking blue, Kyra is the very picture of a highborn elf maiden. Her sorceress powers lead her to neglect her physique somewhat so she isn't as well muscled as many of her kindred. Though her features are elegant she lacks the sharp edges which give some elves a haughty and ethereal beauty Personality Upon first appearence, Kyra (as she calls herself to avoid terrible attempts at pronouncing her name) presents herself as friendly and easy going. She seems to embody the positive traits of her kind, appearing friendly, wise, giving and benevolent while working hard to mitigate the natural haugtiness of the long lived and most civilized of races. All of this is a pose. As an elven maiden of a hundred summers Kyra accepted a dare from some of her fellow elves to gaze into the waters of a forbidden spring. In the rippling waters she beheld the image of Volduressë the outcast Goddess of the Dark Elves. The Banished Queen showed her the strands of the future and the pain and suffering she would endure throughout her long life if she persisted on her current path. She also showed Kyra a glimpse of what she might become, the power she might wield if she gave herself over to the worship of the Elven Goddess. Kyra agreed and returned to her people, outwardly unchanged and laughing the experience off as nothing more than another legend without any basis in fact. Inside however she was forever changed. Her heart became calculating and cruel, after the fashion of her new Mistress she began to long for chaos and destruction, forsaking the path of light and civilization to follow the dark impulses that her kin had spent so long in suppressing. Background * Woods Witch * Sorceress * Heritage History Kyra has left the silver cities of her people and walked among the lands of men, spreading discord and strife wherever she goes but always with the craft and patience of her kind. She has come to the Black Wood at the behest of Volduressë who has communicated to her in dreams and visions that the key to the next stage of her ascension lies within... Motivation Amass power. Smite enemies. Please Volduressë. Capabilities Attributes Combat [1/1] * Intelligence [1/1] * Alchemy * Botany * Literacy * Religion Charisma [1/1] * Deception * Mongering * Seduction * Diplomacy Health [1/1] * * * Faculties [1/1] * Concentration * Willpower Agility [1/1] * Mysticism [3/3] * Sorceress - Weaver --- Equipment * Sword * Idol of Volduressë * Alchemical Equipment Money 7 Royals 17 Lordlings 21 Commons Languages Elven Northern Bewitch: With a wiggle of your fingers and a few choice words, you can alter someone's outlook unless they are particularly strong willed. Dazzling Eyes: When you meet eyes with someone you can choose to cast this spell. Like a spark, it'll set men's (or women's if they are so inclined) hearts racing and sear you into their memory. Beguiling lips: Your most powerful enchantment. A thorough kiss and they will be under your spell for a limited time. Polymorph: You can turn any man-sized creature or smaller into a sheep, goose, duck, etc. Can only be cast once per post. Warpbolt: You pull magic from the Fey realm to bend reality and send a fairly dangerous missile of chaos at a foe. Shocking Jolt: When you grab or strike someone, you can send 200 volts into their body. More damaging if you use both hands. Glide or Blink: You can choose between letting your character glide on command for a short length of time, or letting them disappear and appear elsewhere within 20 feet or so. Your choice. Parlor Tricks: You can snap and make a small flame appear, make sparkles on your hands, pull a card out of your sleeve, make your voice louder, anything that is relatively minor and fairly harmless.</s> <\|message\|>Kyiriniae'aea Kyiriniae'aea surveyed the tower with approval, there was much to do to make it a truly acceptable dwelling place, but her minds eye was already hard at work, picturing a fire, carpets and proper illumination. There would need to be some provision for defense of course, the presence of the gundarogs attested to that, but there would be time for that, and she had an inkling of how to go about it. First though she needed to take a thorough inventory of her newfound lair. What had happened to the previous occupant? It seemed unlikely given the disarray of the library that they would return. Well if they did she would deal with that as she always did. There was the human child to deal with as well which was irritating but necessary if she was to persist in this place, it represented to great an opportunity for her simply to kill the creature or let it be eaten. It was unwise to leave her new found minions alone for too long, there was another task she needed them for before she dismissed them, but the lure of the strange and obviously magical items was too much to resist. She approached the archway first, given its prominence and possible function as a potential ingress to her new home. Circling it she ran her fingers over the stones, attempting to gain some sort of insight into its function, but merely physical interaction did not seem to be enough. Stretching out a thin finger she crouched down and touched the bottom of the arch, drawing the pad of the digit up the stone in a long rainbow like curve, following the arch and reaching out with her magical faculties... Activating the arch = 8 (5+3)</s> <\|message\|>Emilio Virtoli Intuition = 4 + 1 = 5 "I could ask nothing else of you fine duo, and I must give thanks to what words you have offered." Emilio would make for a bow as he stepped onto land. Checking on his donkey he'd make sure the cart was on firm ground before looking over it as well mindful of the rocking of the boat had knocked anything loose. An apple that had loosely rolled to the bottom of the cart and bruised itself was picked up and given as a treat to his animal. A hand would follow a growing smile as he stroked his companion's face. Making sure everything was accounted for he'd gesture an offer for his dwarvern friend to board the cart. "Best for us to get moving and letting the fellows get on their own way then right Wēlanandaz?" Barely waiting for the dwarf's own answer he'd quickly move to set off down the path. There was common enough folk tale and legends of any random place being haunted and dangerous, but the merchant knew well enough that there was at least an inkling of truth to even the most baseless one. Better safe than sorry was a tried and true practice on the road and one he would not stray from now. If any oddity lay in the path ahead he'd trust his base gut feeling for the time at least. He had managed it this far after all. Deep rooted and wooded forests were not the typical locales the Dre Costan had found himself traveling through before for the most part, especially in these rougher conditions. Obviously the path had been carved and managed to some extent though not enough for their sort to be the most common travelers. The man would keep his eyes sharp and looking about as the clatter of wooden wheels against the path matched the clops of the donkey's own hooves. "Well, it'll be some hours at least until we see some sort of men again." He'd speak out, though not as verbose and energetic as on the shoreline. "I would wonder your thoughts at times like these, my otherwise stoic and stone-faced colleague." The hint of sarcasm in his voice would at least be obvious in the choice of adjectives used. @POOHEAD189</s> <\|message\|>Name When Kyiriniae'aea activated the archway with her energies, it became horribly clear not a moment later that the elven maiden should have activated the crystal ball prior, for she felt the very energy of her being sucked into what seemed an endless void of nothingness. Her very soul was stretched like a dislocated arm, and it was only mercifully pushed back within her once the archway coalesced energies borne of her magics. To say she felt drained was an understatement, though what appeared next would be far, far worse. The archway swirled with multicolored energy of pure chaos as the very structure itself sparked with eldritch, purple lightning every few moments that audibly cracked and sizzled. Though the air in the chamber was stilled, the sorceress could feel a strange ebb and flow of magic with her magesight, like kicked up dust from some explosion that served as a portent of doom. It was after five long seconds that the visitor appeared. At first, one clawed foot stepped into the material plane, for he approached. Then the next laid bare upon the stone, for he approached. A staff of blacksteel crowned with a demonskull materialized before her eyes, for he approached. Scaled skin the color of stained oak mixed with dead blood showed from his entrance, for he approached. His robes were suddenly palpable and colored purple, yet shimmered as if coated with black spider silk, for he approached. It was his face she saw last. A draconic visage, lipless and sunken like skin barely clinging to a vicious skull, with two large, sloped horns framing its snout. Upon his brow were three eyes, the center clearly made of some unknown precious gemstone. Once fully out of the portal, Kyiriniae'aea saw the thing, fully seven feet in height. If she used her magesight, she saw it was at least two long strides above her in power and knowledge, though there was no telling what it or he was. It was obvious even if she weren't so drained, she had no real chance of bewitching the thing and could likely harm it enough to make it angrier. She heard a low growl emanate from its throat, as if it were the broken engine of some Dwarven machine. "What realm is this?" It asked aloud, though she could tell it was asking itself rather than her. It's voice was three voices, or perhaps it echoed within its throat thrice, for they sounded very deep and similar. All at once, its three eyed gaze fell upon Kyiriniae'aea, scrutinizing her as if she were a squirrel that had wandered into a living room. "A fairy..." it said, referring to the archaic forms of the Elves before they were gifted larger bodies by the Gods so long ago. "Why did you call Gekir'vash'ni'k'kashnik'ash here?" Suddenly, the tension was broken when a wail rose up from neither of them, and both saw the form of the baby in the bag, shaking its fists and crying. The warlock, for it indeed had the energy signature of such a thing, tilted its head curiously. It's curiosity was likely the only thing from killing the sorceress at the current moment. "A child?" Oh FUCK! Well, you can...um, you got a lot of options. Clearly there are no easy ones. You could attempt to unsummon him, though I wouldn't try unless you're feeling really lucky. You could try to lie and bargain with what you have to save your own skin, or you could blink away though he either chases you or you lose your tower. Or you could surprise me!</s>	<\|message\|>Kyiriniae'aea Kyiriniae'aea felt her mouth go dry as the demon, awesome in its power, stepped through the portal. She had a queasy feeling that she had come within a hair's breadth of her own soul being sucked through the portal to feed the thing. For a heartbeat she considered fleeing, but it seemed unlikely that if the thing really wanted her that she was going to be able to fly far and fast enough to avoid that fate. Instead she threw herself to the ground in obeisance scrapping her knees and spreading her arms wide. "A tool mighty Gekir'vash'ni'k'kashnik'ash, a pawn to aid in my designs," she informed the demon thing in her most reverential tone. She fought against the cold sweat the prickled the back of her neck, forcing herself to remain calm and think rationally. The demon thing was the most powerful entity she had yet encountered, but power did no always equate to guile. "I have called you forth to seek knowledge which only you possess," she lied glibly. "I have prepared a sacrifice for you, two gundarogs, my most faithful servants, stand at the base of this tower, teach me of your arts o great one, and they shall be but the first souls that I lay before you taloned feet," she entreated, warming to her subject as she remained unobliterated. Carefully she risked a glance up at the creature, resolving to blink for the window if it didn't appear that this were going well. Diplomacy - 8 (6+2)</s>
<\|description\|>Kyiriniae'aea High Elf \| 301 \| Female Appearance Tall lithe and Blonde with eyes of striking blue, Kyra is the very picture of a highborn elf maiden. Her sorceress powers lead her to neglect her physique somewhat so she isn't as well muscled as many of her kindred. Though her features are elegant she lacks the sharp edges which give some elves a haughty and ethereal beauty Personality Upon first appearence, Kyra (as she calls herself to avoid terrible attempts at pronouncing her name) presents herself as friendly and easy going. She seems to embody the positive traits of her kind, appearing friendly, wise, giving and benevolent while working hard to mitigate the natural haugtiness of the long lived and most civilized of races. All of this is a pose. As an elven maiden of a hundred summers Kyra accepted a dare from some of her fellow elves to gaze into the waters of a forbidden spring. In the rippling waters she beheld the image of Volduressë the outcast Goddess of the Dark Elves. The Banished Queen showed her the strands of the future and the pain and suffering she would endure throughout her long life if she persisted on her current path. She also showed Kyra a glimpse of what she might become, the power she might wield if she gave herself over to the worship of the Elven Goddess. Kyra agreed and returned to her people, outwardly unchanged and laughing the experience off as nothing more than another legend without any basis in fact. Inside however she was forever changed. Her heart became calculating and cruel, after the fashion of her new Mistress she began to long for chaos and destruction, forsaking the path of light and civilization to follow the dark impulses that her kin had spent so long in suppressing. Background * Woods Witch * Sorceress * Heritage History Kyra has left the silver cities of her people and walked among the lands of men, spreading discord and strife wherever she goes but always with the craft and patience of her kind. She has come to the Black Wood at the behest of Volduressë who has communicated to her in dreams and visions that the key to the next stage of her ascension lies within... Motivation Amass power. Smite enemies. Please Volduressë. Capabilities Attributes Combat [1/1] * Intelligence [1/1] * Alchemy * Botany * Literacy * Religion Charisma [1/1] * Deception * Mongering * Seduction * Diplomacy Health [1/1] * * * Faculties [1/1] * Concentration * Willpower Agility [1/1] * Mysticism [3/3] * Sorceress - Weaver --- Equipment * Sword * Idol of Volduressë * Alchemical Equipment Money 7 Royals 17 Lordlings 21 Commons Languages Elven Northern Bewitch: With a wiggle of your fingers and a few choice words, you can alter someone's outlook unless they are particularly strong willed. Dazzling Eyes: When you meet eyes with someone you can choose to cast this spell. Like a spark, it'll set men's (or women's if they are so inclined) hearts racing and sear you into their memory. Beguiling lips: Your most powerful enchantment. A thorough kiss and they will be under your spell for a limited time. Polymorph: You can turn any man-sized creature or smaller into a sheep, goose, duck, etc. Can only be cast once per post. Warpbolt: You pull magic from the Fey realm to bend reality and send a fairly dangerous missile of chaos at a foe. Shocking Jolt: When you grab or strike someone, you can send 200 volts into their body. More damaging if you use both hands. Glide or Blink: You can choose between letting your character glide on command for a short length of time, or letting them disappear and appear elsewhere within 20 feet or so. Your choice. Parlor Tricks: You can snap and make a small flame appear, make sparkles on your hands, pull a card out of your sleeve, make your voice louder, anything that is relatively minor and fairly harmless.</s> <\|message\|>Name The two conversed as they began, pushing the cart uphill to help the donkey until they were set on the proper path. Once there, even the two chatty fellows would find the foliage growing more and more foreboding, almost pressing silence upon them regardless of their curiosities or efforts to keep a casual air about their travel. The donkey seemed somewhat glum (even for a donkey) but it didn't look overly agitated or fearful, which at least likely meant there was no problems with beasts so far. A large gulley lay on their right, and on their left a steep upwards incline into the swell of a hill. It rose like a wave and where it began to dip, as it was hard to tell with the trees in the way. Across the gulley and past the creek within its bed was just further trees, hiding all manner of Gods-know-what. To a couple of entrepreneurial chaps such as these, it might look like a lot of untapped resources. But the terrain was far too hilly to capitalize on it without a vast team of hired hands and a guard to keep them safe and protected if any of the stories of the Blackwood were to be believed. An hour passed by, and the donkey was guiding up yet another hill. It grunted irritably, but did its job without going lax as some stubborn donkeys were liable to do. The three just crested the hill when they found themselves on a straight path without the perils of twisting over uneven ground. The trees here were thicker, however, but that was not the most noticeable aspect. In front of them stood two large men; Knights, in fact. They were black and grey, with a marking of a skull at the center of their torso. Emilio and Wēlanandaz would see they were heavily armored in gambesons, chainmail, and bits of plate in the form of pauldrons and greaves. Their faces were hidden behind great helms given the visages of skulls at the front, and two steel horns plumed with feathers fanned out above their helmets. They held large swords, perhaps greatswords even, their blades on the ground with both hands on the hilts made of bone. Silently they stood there, saying nothing as the two fellows and their donkey came into their field of vision. Were it not for the slight tremor of their bodies from breathing, and the fact they were standing upright, it would have been difficult to tell if they were awake or even alive. Pajamas@Jb</s> <\|message\|>Mari Mari found Rittenvos to be new and exciting and yet somehow quite familiar. It was the mood of the people, she decided, that was similar to the Sea of Swords. Lots of travelers and mercenaries and merchants, people in general not tied down to any location, simply passing through in search of adventure, fortune, or their own goals. For once Mari was one of them rather than simply a local. By the time she made it to the barroom her purse was two lordlings lighter. She felt lighter too, given the layer of sweat, dirt, and grime she'd washed off, though perhaps that was also because she'd left her plate, shield, and pack in her room. Considering how many other sellswords there were here wearing armor and weapons, Mari simply changed into a fresh white tunic and dark brown leggings, and cleaned her leathers as best she could before donning them again. On her belt were her sword, daggers, coin pouch, and necklaces of Rán. She'd managed to get a decent meal to fill her belly before turning in to her room, so it was ale she sought after now, and when she had two pints in her hands she made her way over to the right side of the room, trying to catch Ithaca's attention as she approached. She seemed to be conversing with the... man? Next to her, though Mari had to admit she'd never seen any of their race before. The plate armor was certainly fine, far better than what Mari could afford. "Hope I'm not intruding," she greeted, offering the pint. "I promised the Road Warden here an ale. If not for her I'd probably be wyvern food by now."</s> <\|message\|>Torsten Meier Knowledge of the beast: 10 Torsten reflected on some of the men he fought alongside these past seven years. 'There was Sten, Bjørn, Ødger, Harald, Ulf, Njal, Arn, Toke and of course Vanhel to name a few. Sten and Bjørn were killed by Vrettonian cavalry less than a year ago. Their memories still haunted him. Ødger died of blood poisoning from a wound he suffered six months ago and Harald lost a leg; returning home. Ulf and Njal could be anywhere by now. They could even be on this path into the Blackwood. Arn and Toke were of course working a job south of the Corsair Straits. I wished them well. Then there was Vanhel. He had been walking with him along this trail, then poof! he disappeared into nowhere. Well, maybe not nowhere. He was taken in by that woman. I can't even remember her name. She was bad as far as I could tell. Not worth the time, but Vanhel felt compelled to assist her. Maybe it was me who left him. Anyway, I am on my own now.' As he meandered along the trail his hands moved over his possessions. He checked the coin purse at his waist, felt its heft and let it drop into place. He palmed over his knife, axe, sword, bow, quiver and the straps of the small pack on his back containing some food stuff. He felt secure in the contents. He avoided most of the Andredian villages with the thought in mind, it was at those locations he had the highest risk of losing something. After passing a small valley or more acutely a draw, Torsten saw two large dark trees only ten meters apart. They reminded him of the trees of home in Norgardia. He noted the trees generally grew smaller the further he walked away from home. The forest appeared to rise up in front of him; a veritable fortress of green and wood. But the two trees guarding his path beckoned him forward almost inviting him to enter. He wanted more than anything to enter as he felt he would encounter riches beyond his desires inside these woods. The closer he moved towards the two trees, he realized a large beast stood in his path. It was enormous. He had learned a lot about animals of the forest during his youth and was aware of this creature. He worried not it was a creature which would eat him, but it was one that would charge if felt threatened. Its aggression would be felt, even if Torsten attempted to approach it. 'Megarinokeros', Torsten thought to himself. 'The beast must be eleven or twelve feet in height and a good eight or nine tons in mass. I could just go around him, cut through the walls of the forest. If he sees me, he might charge. They are pretty aggressive, even if they are vegetarian. An excellent meal he would make, but it would be such a waste since I couldn't carry much of him. To attack him, it would require almost all of my arrows, then I would have to switch to my sword and even then, I just might not get him. It would be wiser to skirt through the brush to avoid him.' Although Torsten had no intention to hunt the Megarinokeros, the beast just might decide to attack him. I rolled a 5. Torsten attempts to evade combat by using Running and Balance. Roll to run is 8 and Balance roll is not as I could have hoped for 1. Just as Torsten was deciding it would be safer to avoid the Megarinokeros, or Megaboar as was commonly referred, the beast decided maybe he would not let Torsten enter the forest untested. The beast turned its hulking mass in his direction, lowered it five foot horn and trotted towards him. When it was thirty meters away, the beast increased its speed. Torsten didn't even bother drawing a weapon. He intended to dodge the beast. He knew the creature was too heavy to maneuver and relied on his prey remaining directly in front of him. Torsten had no intention of remaining in its path. When the creature was too close for comfort and accelerating, Torsten ran to the left to evade the beast. The Megaboar attempted to turn with Torsten, but could not. Torsten ran behind the beast and headed toward the woods. The creature turned about, lowered its horn and began the charge a second time. Torsten made it to the wood line, saw a low hanging branch and jumped for it, in an attempt to climb out of its path. He jumped as he drew close. His hands hit the branch, slapped it more accurately and the less than six foot frame flew past the tree, into the brush beyond. His body hit the ground and rolled away. The Megarinokeros glanced off the large oak tree and continued attempting to slow itself. Torsten felt pain in his ribs on the right side of his body where he hit a rock during his fall. He continued to roll away from the path to evade the monster. He crawled into leaves concealing his location. The large wooly boar snorted at the ground. Its massive hooves pawed at the soil turning it over which each stomp. Torsten waited. Eventually, the beast grew impatient and walked away from the two trees in the trail. Torsten Maier felt it was as good a time as any to stand and check himself out. When he moved up onto his knees he detected a pain on his right side. It was sharp, breath-halting and would make the next few weeks a bit harder than he anticipated. He checked his belongs, made sure everything was still there. He looked back at where the boar was and slowly continued on his journey into the Blackwood. He thanked Ulfric for allowing him to live this day and continued forward.</s>	<\|message\|>Kyiriniae'aea Kyiriniae'aea sagged with relief as the human mage stepped through the portal. She didn't much like humans, they could be powerful but their short roach like lives made them unpredictable and grasping. Still, given her other companions were literal cannibals, she supposed she could tolerate the arrival of so useful a pawn. "I did," she admitted, smiling winsomely and stepping forward, holding out her hand like a human noble so that the mage could take it and kiss it in the proscribed fashion. She made a gesture that encompassed room. "We are in a place called the Blackwood," she explained, taking a step back and gesturing to one of the chairs by the table in her newly cleaned study. The chaos had been put to right and she even had taken the time to properly set up the alchemical equipment in the corner. The tower still didn't quite look lived in, but it no longer resembled the ruin it had when she had first come in. "I'm afraid it was something of a desperation move," she confessed, her lip quivering ever so slightly to convey fear and vulnerability as she took her own seat. She badly wished she had some wine, but that would have to wait, instead she offered the human some of the roasted boar that her servants had brought her. "I am Kyiriniae'aea, though you may call me Kyra," she introduced herself. She chewed on the end of one of her long blonde locks for a moment before continuing. "I am afraid I have been cursed by a Warlock," she admitted, "and if you were willing to aid me, I would be forever in your debt."</s>
<\|description\|>Mari Marisaya Njalsdottir \|\| 20 \|\| Female Race Half-Elf (Silvari and Norgardian) Appearance Mari's undoubtedly a little small for a fighter, but moves with the grace and poise of someone who has had thorough training, if not a great deal of experience. She can easily pass for human even if her auburn red hair isn't covering her lightly pointed ears. Her eyes are a bright sea blue-green, and she typically gives off the look of someone still full of life and energy. She wears light armor, mostly embossed and studded leather that's probably more decorative than it is protective, with a minimum of cobbled-together plate. It's in Mari's interest to stay lightly geared, considering how often she finds herself on open water. Personality Mari is fierce, bold, and passionate, and a genuinely good woman at heart. She feels she has a great deal to make up for from her youth, and believes fully that the Daughters of Rán are her way to redemption. When working Mari is serious, focused, and efficient, and though at times self-doubt can slow her down, she has enough courage to forge ahead even when she suspects she might fail. Recently she has found meaning and purpose in helping others, and will gladly take up a worthy cause even at risk to her own safety or fortune. In quieter moments, Mari is fully capable of relaxing, unwinding, and sharing a drink and stories. She's not secretive about her past or her feelings, and finds that she connects with and empathizes easily with others. The Ninth Daughter of Rán --- Background~Aspiring Mercenary Priestess ~Lower Class, Criminal Background ~Daughter of a runaway Silvari noblewoman and a Norgardian smuggler HistoryMari has romantic origins, the result of a runaway Silvari girl fleeing an arranged marriage and a Norgardian smuggler that left his own homeland behind. She grew up in the Sea of Swords, and there the romance ended. Life as the daughter of a common smuggler was hardly easy, especially one like her father, who found himself in debt to powerful individuals. At twelve Mari found herself working to help pay off those debts, mostly to a criminal and pirate lord, an Izyrian named Ihsan. She worked for him and his crews, hopping islands and pickpocketing, thieving, spying, and eavesdropping. As she grew, she graduated to more direct assistance, and took some part in piracy and raids. It was all she knew at first, and Mari was talented and adventurous, albeit unsatisfied with the way her life was going. Everything changed at 18, when she was caught stealing from a woman named Asherah, First of the Daughters of Rán, a small but respected and even feared group of women sellswords. Often known by other names such as Sisters of the Sea or Witches of the Waves or simply the Sirens, the Daughters belonged to the clever and cunning sea-goddess Rán. The gifts she granted her Nine Daughters were not always extraordinary, but it was believed that the presence of a Daughter aboard a ship could well be the difference between a smooth voyage and a death at the hands of a passing leviathan or vicious storm. When Asherah unexpectedly took a liking to Mari, she felt the Goddess had guided them together. Rán's Daughters always numbered Nine, but recently one had passed, opening a place for Mari if she wanted it. Even knowing she'd be leaving her father on his own, not to mention making an enemy of Ihsan by betraying him, Mari accepted, and began two years of hard training with her new sisters, who protected her while she prepared to join their ranks. She learned slowly and with many mistakes, but learned all the same. The Daughters of Rán offered her a new way forward, one where she could be a better person, while still finding the adventure her heart desired. Now at the end of her training, Mari faces a rite of passage: venture into the Blackwood, alone, and make her way into the forgotten places with Rán's guidance, to find her hidden temple, a place supposedly only accessible to the Nine Daughters. There she will pray and accept the gifts the Goddess offers, seizing the power she feels she needs to fully make amends for her past. MotivationMari must find the Hidden Temple of Rán, hidden somewhere in the Blackwood, and complete her initiation into the Daughters of Rán. After that, she can follow where the waters take her, and sell her sword and skills to those she feels need it most. Witch of the Waves \| \| \| \| SkillsMari is a former thief attempting to remake herself as a proper warrior. Her abilities are spread thin between combat, knowledge, and underhanded skills. Combat [1/1]~Sword and Shield [1] ~Daggers [1] Intelligence [1/1]~Literacy [1] ~Religion [1] ~Geography [1] Charisma [1/1]~Diplomacy [2] Health [1/1]~Cold Resistance [1] Faculties [1/1]~Resolve [1] ~Perception [1] Agility [1/1]~Pick Pocket [1] ~Lockpick [1] ~Balance [1] ~Swimming [2] Mysticism [0/3] --- Equipment~One handed sword ~Wooden round shield ~Two small daggers ~Leather and partial plate armor ~Stitched hide and linen clothes ~Prayer bead necklaces with symbols of Rán Money~1 Royal ~18 Lordlings ~40 Commons Languages~Northern Tongue ~Grim Northern ~Bits and pieces of many other tongues \| \| \|</s> <\|message\|>Kyiriniae'aea Kyiriniae'aea observed the goblinoids for a few moments. Both her High Elven kin and her Dark Elven Goddess despised such creatures. The presence of the human child did not concern her overmuch, but nor was she inclined to leave the creature to be slaughtered if it could be turned to her advantage. The elven sorceress was no warrior, but she knew that guile was a better weapon than steel in almost any situation. She crouched down behind a tree stump and took a moment to plan. Four goblins would be a handful but there were ways to even the odds. Volduressë looked with favor on those who had others fight their battles for them and so she followed her Goddess' command. The Elven sorceress began to weave her fingers into an intricate patter, the position of each finger tip as precise as a master musician beginning a tune on a harp. The spell built as she planned the next few seconds, magic flowing into her being as the weave tightened and gained form. When it was ready she released it with a snap of energy evident to her magically attuned senses. The spell was aimed not at the goblins, but at the human. The child's scream of terror suddenly turned into a scream as its body seemed to twist and reshape itself in accordance with Kyiriniae'aea's design. In the blink of an eye the goblin was holding not a human child, but a scorpion the size of a large cat, venom dripping from its stinger and pincers snapping. At the same time she used a simple trick, changing the hue of the bright fire to the black glowing light of a sacrificial flame. Its unnatural light flickering of the scorpion child's carapace. Kyiriniae'aea polymorphs the child into a scorpion and makes it extra spooky by turning the flame black. Waiting for chaos to ensue.</s> <\|message\|>Name "So anyway, what are you two doing going up this river anyhow?" The lad asked, having talked their ears off the last hour. Moving up river was tiring work, but this boy had rowed and talked, rowed and talked, rowed and talked. Perhaps it was the fact he like as not did this every day as a living, but it was still a sight to see. It was almost impressive for a dwarf too. The Grannic River was a long one, snaking up from the peninsula of the Seven Cities and the Nevrazym Dale all the way into the bosom of the Blackwood, or so the longshoreman had said back in Cavlarck. "'Nothing but trouble is what you'll find in the Blackwood' my paw always says." The boy declared, then thought for a moment. "Except for trees. There's a whole lot of trees. And monsters too...probably some towns as well. "Shut up, boy," The second of the rowers grunted. He was a dark man, with an almost dwarf-like beard and corded muscles. His back was to the two travelers, and he rowed in silence save such lovely comments as that. Luckily it seemed they knew their business, keeping the boat afloat and keeping the goods the traveler's had stored behind steadied. Attached to the small boat was a strange raft; a contraption with wooden bars that stood up like some cage, carrying their cart, supplies, and even the donkey was seemed too busy lapping at the water through the bars to be afraid. The trees had grown notably darker as they rowed further northwards, away from the Sea of Swords and the Seven Cities so rife with intrigue and chaos. Good money to be made there, and work. But you were as likely to have it or your craft confiscated by a rival city. The Blackwood had little in the way of competition, word had it. Now the boat began to turn ever slightly toward the shore, and the two rowers perked up as if they had arrived at a destination, though there were no markings and little in the way of space to make landfall. @Tony Pajamas --- Hundreds of miles to the north, another unlikely pair were making their way south through the foothills of northern Andred. Grim were they, and fell to look upon. Much like the Northern mountains they had descended from. Torsten had passed through southern Norgard, past the Halls of the Jotuns in the Hruntigmir Mountains, otherwise known as the Frostfells, and made it into the Northern Marches where he met Vanhel, realizing they both had a common destination. It has now been two weeks since they passed Umber's Cairn, right at the beginning of spring when the snows have finally melted. Staying away from most Andredian villages and settlements save for the occasional waystation, their journey had finally bore fruit for the two companions. For they had passed a simple glen to find themselves face to face with two massive trees, darker in hue and far more robust than any trees they had come across for weeks. A northern relic in the soft, southern lands of the 'civilized' nations. Perhaps you see it as a welcome sight, or perhaps you feel as if the stories you sought to find out about the legends of the forest were true. Whatever the case may be, the treeline stood as a great wall daring them to enter, with the two large oaks a veritable gateway into the realm of grimdarkness. As the two dare approach, they are greeted by a strange revving, stuttering sound. An echo that belies the direction they known to listen to, though they soon know the direction. A strange shape coalesces around the 'gateway' before their eyes. As it forms, the two see it is truly large! It looks to be some form of boar-like creature, though instead of two tusks along its mouth, it has three horns along the center of its snout, like a strange porcine whooly rhinoceros. Torsten and Vanhel would only be able to reach it's shoulder if they stood next to the ginormous beast, and though it does not seem to be antagonistic, it grunts and smells the grass just at the entrance to the wood they seek to enter. Pawing the ground with its hooves, it seems content to nibble upon the foliage just before them. Perhaps they could find another way in, off a beaten path to the east or west? Perhaps the beast would bring good meat or make a fine trophy... or perhaps it is best to let sleeping pigs lie. @Gunther</s>	<\|message\|>Mari Balance: 1d8+1 = 5 (4 + 1) Intelligence: d8 = 4 Mari missed the sound of the sea. It was something she'd taken for granted, born and raised near the water as she always had been, and now that it was gone, the world seemed all too uncomfortably quiet. This forest would test her, she knew; Asherah had promised as much, and to become a Daughter of Rán, Mari would have to overcome adversity. She needed to prove she was one of them in heart and mind before she could be granted any gifts. She stopped at the edge of the gulley, pushing auburn hair from her face. Getting around this would take hours, and Mari wanted to make it deeper into the forest well before darkness fell. She had a passing knowledge of world geography, but without help in this forest she would be hopelessly lost. People lived in the darkness of the wood somewhere, she just had to find them, and perhaps see if a deal could be made. That meant getting down and through the gulley. Mari noted the very large, very dead thing down there, but whatever felled it was nowhere to be seen, no tracks she could identify at a distance. The smell was strong, though. Best not to linger here any longer than I have to. She started down carefully after securing her pack and her shield, making quick work of the descent. She almost slipped once, but caught herself and kept her feet, setting foot in the basin. Her boots sank into the mud beneath the shallow, filthy water, but she made sure to keep moving, finding that the muck wasn't severe enough to threaten her. The creature was an ogre, she guessed, judging by Asherah's descriptions from stories she'd told. Goddess, the old woman had a lot of stories. The ogre looked to be a few days dead at least, and the smell grew even worse as she passed. With no intent of sticking around to end up beside the dead ogre, Mari began the work of climbing up the far side of the gulley, finding it no more difficult than the descent. It wasn't the warmest welcome into the Blackwood, but Mari had already steeled herself for the worst. Whatever the Watery Widow intended to throw at her, she would face it.</s>
<\|description\|>Mari Marisaya Njalsdottir \|\| 20 \|\| Female Race Half-Elf (Silvari and Norgardian) Appearance Mari's undoubtedly a little small for a fighter, but moves with the grace and poise of someone who has had thorough training, if not a great deal of experience. She can easily pass for human even if her auburn red hair isn't covering her lightly pointed ears. Her eyes are a bright sea blue-green, and she typically gives off the look of someone still full of life and energy. She wears light armor, mostly embossed and studded leather that's probably more decorative than it is protective, with a minimum of cobbled-together plate. It's in Mari's interest to stay lightly geared, considering how often she finds herself on open water. Personality Mari is fierce, bold, and passionate, and a genuinely good woman at heart. She feels she has a great deal to make up for from her youth, and believes fully that the Daughters of Rán are her way to redemption. When working Mari is serious, focused, and efficient, and though at times self-doubt can slow her down, she has enough courage to forge ahead even when she suspects she might fail. Recently she has found meaning and purpose in helping others, and will gladly take up a worthy cause even at risk to her own safety or fortune. In quieter moments, Mari is fully capable of relaxing, unwinding, and sharing a drink and stories. She's not secretive about her past or her feelings, and finds that she connects with and empathizes easily with others. The Ninth Daughter of Rán --- Background~Aspiring Mercenary Priestess ~Lower Class, Criminal Background ~Daughter of a runaway Silvari noblewoman and a Norgardian smuggler HistoryMari has romantic origins, the result of a runaway Silvari girl fleeing an arranged marriage and a Norgardian smuggler that left his own homeland behind. She grew up in the Sea of Swords, and there the romance ended. Life as the daughter of a common smuggler was hardly easy, especially one like her father, who found himself in debt to powerful individuals. At twelve Mari found herself working to help pay off those debts, mostly to a criminal and pirate lord, an Izyrian named Ihsan. She worked for him and his crews, hopping islands and pickpocketing, thieving, spying, and eavesdropping. As she grew, she graduated to more direct assistance, and took some part in piracy and raids. It was all she knew at first, and Mari was talented and adventurous, albeit unsatisfied with the way her life was going. Everything changed at 18, when she was caught stealing from a woman named Asherah, First of the Daughters of Rán, a small but respected and even feared group of women sellswords. Often known by other names such as Sisters of the Sea or Witches of the Waves or simply the Sirens, the Daughters belonged to the clever and cunning sea-goddess Rán. The gifts she granted her Nine Daughters were not always extraordinary, but it was believed that the presence of a Daughter aboard a ship could well be the difference between a smooth voyage and a death at the hands of a passing leviathan or vicious storm. When Asherah unexpectedly took a liking to Mari, she felt the Goddess had guided them together. Rán's Daughters always numbered Nine, but recently one had passed, opening a place for Mari if she wanted it. Even knowing she'd be leaving her father on his own, not to mention making an enemy of Ihsan by betraying him, Mari accepted, and began two years of hard training with her new sisters, who protected her while she prepared to join their ranks. She learned slowly and with many mistakes, but learned all the same. The Daughters of Rán offered her a new way forward, one where she could be a better person, while still finding the adventure her heart desired. Now at the end of her training, Mari faces a rite of passage: venture into the Blackwood, alone, and make her way into the forgotten places with Rán's guidance, to find her hidden temple, a place supposedly only accessible to the Nine Daughters. There she will pray and accept the gifts the Goddess offers, seizing the power she feels she needs to fully make amends for her past. MotivationMari must find the Hidden Temple of Rán, hidden somewhere in the Blackwood, and complete her initiation into the Daughters of Rán. After that, she can follow where the waters take her, and sell her sword and skills to those she feels need it most. Witch of the Waves \| \| \| \| SkillsMari is a former thief attempting to remake herself as a proper warrior. Her abilities are spread thin between combat, knowledge, and underhanded skills. Combat [1/1]~Sword and Shield [1] ~Daggers [1] Intelligence [1/1]~Literacy [1] ~Religion [1] ~Geography [1] Charisma [1/1]~Diplomacy [2] Health [1/1]~Cold Resistance [1] Faculties [1/1]~Resolve [1] ~Perception [1] Agility [1/1]~Pick Pocket [1] ~Lockpick [1] ~Balance [1] ~Swimming [2] Mysticism [0/3] --- Equipment~One handed sword ~Wooden round shield ~Two small daggers ~Leather and partial plate armor ~Stitched hide and linen clothes ~Prayer bead necklaces with symbols of Rán Money~1 Royal ~18 Lordlings ~40 Commons Languages~Northern Tongue ~Grim Northern ~Bits and pieces of many other tongues \| \| \|</s> <\|message\|>Kyiriniae'aea Kyiriniae'aea crouched down beside the child and wove her fingers beguiling before its eyes, stilling its cries as she wove a magical somnolence to quiet the baby. She had no particularly maternal instincts but if it started caterwauling at the right time it might disrupt her plan. With silence assured, she stood up and straightened her dress, preparing herself for the next step. There was some danger involved but she wasn't going to establish herself in this forest by timidity. She closed her eyes and wove a second spell. Blink The tall elf appeared in the flames as the Gundarogs chanted. Stepping quickly from the fire before it could catch. None the less a few of the fibres and the tips of her hair smoked and sizzled though she kept any cry from her lips so as not to spoil the illusion. The the Gundarogs it appeared as though she had been birthed from the flames in response to their chanting. Moving far enough from the fire to be safe she spread her arms akimbo to appear as impressive as she could. "Why have you ventured out under the accursed sun?" she demanded in tone of oratorical command. The back-lighting from the fire made her appear shadowed and featureless. "Why have you left the tunnels and forsaken the search for my brethren?" she demanded.</s> <\|message\|>Emilio Virtoli Diplomacy = 8 + 3 = 11 The Dre Costan showed no signs of tiring from the boy's repetitive questions. All the more he seemed just as excited and lively. "Ah, but where there are towns there are people. Where there are people, my services shall always be required. Setting disputes, evaluating valuables, and moving about the general necessities of the world." Emilio spoke with elegance outwardly to the child, as if he had prepared this spiel his entire life. "Oh, and of course my friend here." He'd gesture with flair to Wēlanandaz. "Monsters mean armor and weapons are in great demand yes? Well what finer is there than expert Dwarvern make?" The question was exclaimed proudly and entirely rhetorical, though he'd move on before the child could comment on it. "I am certain one way or another it shall be an exciting and prosperous venture. You yourself found this to be your own service after all. I am certain you have heard much and more of the Blackwood. It would make me most grateful if you could tell us some more of what to expect. Anything you've heard of the locals, the closest towns or villages. Any and all is appreciated." An eye would look from the man to the shore as they made a turn towards it. A seemingly entire lackluster and lone spot. "Ah, and directions. Truly you would wish for us to make it safely yes? After we have made our fortunes here we would remember those that labored along the way." Emilio would add on with a cheery smile and tone. All but antithetical to the rowing man's silence. "Of course I'd hope the same to be true of myself. Should I find any weary souls who wish to turn their way back for an honest fee, I would all the more direct them to the one who had the same guided safely our own passage. I'd need a name of course for such a man and I would not ask without bestowing my own. Emilio Virtoli, merchant, as you already well know." A seated half bow was added on, not wishing to rock the boat overly much as they were soon to be pulling onto land.</s>	<\|message\|>Mari Screaming was the last thing Mari intended to do. She'd allowed herself to be ambushed, distracted as she was by the wyvern's arrival, which she'd only narrowly avoided by luck, but now her instinct was to fight rather than let fear rule. She reached for one of her daggers, but a strong hand caught her wrist. The voice behind her promised her no harm. It took a few seconds, but finally Mari relaxed her muscles and slowed her breathing, the woman letting her go as soon as she did. If she'd wanted to kill Mari, she had a perfect chance already, and hadn't used it. That was good enough. Mari cautiously checked to make sure the wyvern was still occupied with the ogre, then turned about. Ithaca, she introduced herself as. A Praelian name if she'd ever heard one, with a look to match. Taller than Mari, and well armed and armored. What she promised sounded like a much needed bit of good luck. "Lead the way," she instructed, eager to put the gulley and the wyvern well behind her. Only when the sounds of the creature feasting on the ogre's corpse had disappeared did she venture her own introduction. "I'm Mari, of the Sea of Swords. What's this town we're headed to?"</s>
<\|description\|>Mari Marisaya Njalsdottir \|\| 20 \|\| Female Race Half-Elf (Silvari and Norgardian) Appearance Mari's undoubtedly a little small for a fighter, but moves with the grace and poise of someone who has had thorough training, if not a great deal of experience. She can easily pass for human even if her auburn red hair isn't covering her lightly pointed ears. Her eyes are a bright sea blue-green, and she typically gives off the look of someone still full of life and energy. She wears light armor, mostly embossed and studded leather that's probably more decorative than it is protective, with a minimum of cobbled-together plate. It's in Mari's interest to stay lightly geared, considering how often she finds herself on open water. Personality Mari is fierce, bold, and passionate, and a genuinely good woman at heart. She feels she has a great deal to make up for from her youth, and believes fully that the Daughters of Rán are her way to redemption. When working Mari is serious, focused, and efficient, and though at times self-doubt can slow her down, she has enough courage to forge ahead even when she suspects she might fail. Recently she has found meaning and purpose in helping others, and will gladly take up a worthy cause even at risk to her own safety or fortune. In quieter moments, Mari is fully capable of relaxing, unwinding, and sharing a drink and stories. She's not secretive about her past or her feelings, and finds that she connects with and empathizes easily with others. The Ninth Daughter of Rán --- Background~Aspiring Mercenary Priestess ~Lower Class, Criminal Background ~Daughter of a runaway Silvari noblewoman and a Norgardian smuggler HistoryMari has romantic origins, the result of a runaway Silvari girl fleeing an arranged marriage and a Norgardian smuggler that left his own homeland behind. She grew up in the Sea of Swords, and there the romance ended. Life as the daughter of a common smuggler was hardly easy, especially one like her father, who found himself in debt to powerful individuals. At twelve Mari found herself working to help pay off those debts, mostly to a criminal and pirate lord, an Izyrian named Ihsan. She worked for him and his crews, hopping islands and pickpocketing, thieving, spying, and eavesdropping. As she grew, she graduated to more direct assistance, and took some part in piracy and raids. It was all she knew at first, and Mari was talented and adventurous, albeit unsatisfied with the way her life was going. Everything changed at 18, when she was caught stealing from a woman named Asherah, First of the Daughters of Rán, a small but respected and even feared group of women sellswords. Often known by other names such as Sisters of the Sea or Witches of the Waves or simply the Sirens, the Daughters belonged to the clever and cunning sea-goddess Rán. The gifts she granted her Nine Daughters were not always extraordinary, but it was believed that the presence of a Daughter aboard a ship could well be the difference between a smooth voyage and a death at the hands of a passing leviathan or vicious storm. When Asherah unexpectedly took a liking to Mari, she felt the Goddess had guided them together. Rán's Daughters always numbered Nine, but recently one had passed, opening a place for Mari if she wanted it. Even knowing she'd be leaving her father on his own, not to mention making an enemy of Ihsan by betraying him, Mari accepted, and began two years of hard training with her new sisters, who protected her while she prepared to join their ranks. She learned slowly and with many mistakes, but learned all the same. The Daughters of Rán offered her a new way forward, one where she could be a better person, while still finding the adventure her heart desired. Now at the end of her training, Mari faces a rite of passage: venture into the Blackwood, alone, and make her way into the forgotten places with Rán's guidance, to find her hidden temple, a place supposedly only accessible to the Nine Daughters. There she will pray and accept the gifts the Goddess offers, seizing the power she feels she needs to fully make amends for her past. MotivationMari must find the Hidden Temple of Rán, hidden somewhere in the Blackwood, and complete her initiation into the Daughters of Rán. After that, she can follow where the waters take her, and sell her sword and skills to those she feels need it most. Witch of the Waves \| \| \| \| SkillsMari is a former thief attempting to remake herself as a proper warrior. Her abilities are spread thin between combat, knowledge, and underhanded skills. Combat [1/1]~Sword and Shield [1] ~Daggers [1] Intelligence [1/1]~Literacy [1] ~Religion [1] ~Geography [1] Charisma [1/1]~Diplomacy [2] Health [1/1]~Cold Resistance [1] Faculties [1/1]~Resolve [1] ~Perception [1] Agility [1/1]~Pick Pocket [1] ~Lockpick [1] ~Balance [1] ~Swimming [2] Mysticism [0/3] --- Equipment~One handed sword ~Wooden round shield ~Two small daggers ~Leather and partial plate armor ~Stitched hide and linen clothes ~Prayer bead necklaces with symbols of Rán Money~1 Royal ~18 Lordlings ~40 Commons Languages~Northern Tongue ~Grim Northern ~Bits and pieces of many other tongues \| \| \|</s> <\|message\|>Name When Kyiriniae'aea activated the archway with her energies, it became horribly clear not a moment later that the elven maiden should have activated the crystal ball prior, for she felt the very energy of her being sucked into what seemed an endless void of nothingness. Her very soul was stretched like a dislocated arm, and it was only mercifully pushed back within her once the archway coalesced energies borne of her magics. To say she felt drained was an understatement, though what appeared next would be far, far worse. The archway swirled with multicolored energy of pure chaos as the very structure itself sparked with eldritch, purple lightning every few moments that audibly cracked and sizzled. Though the air in the chamber was stilled, the sorceress could feel a strange ebb and flow of magic with her magesight, like kicked up dust from some explosion that served as a portent of doom. It was after five long seconds that the visitor appeared. At first, one clawed foot stepped into the material plane, for he approached. Then the next laid bare upon the stone, for he approached. A staff of blacksteel crowned with a demonskull materialized before her eyes, for he approached. Scaled skin the color of stained oak mixed with dead blood showed from his entrance, for he approached. His robes were suddenly palpable and colored purple, yet shimmered as if coated with black spider silk, for he approached. It was his face she saw last. A draconic visage, lipless and sunken like skin barely clinging to a vicious skull, with two large, sloped horns framing its snout. Upon his brow were three eyes, the center clearly made of some unknown precious gemstone. Once fully out of the portal, Kyiriniae'aea saw the thing, fully seven feet in height. If she used her magesight, she saw it was at least two long strides above her in power and knowledge, though there was no telling what it or he was. It was obvious even if she weren't so drained, she had no real chance of bewitching the thing and could likely harm it enough to make it angrier. She heard a low growl emanate from its throat, as if it were the broken engine of some Dwarven machine. "What realm is this?" It asked aloud, though she could tell it was asking itself rather than her. It's voice was three voices, or perhaps it echoed within its throat thrice, for they sounded very deep and similar. All at once, its three eyed gaze fell upon Kyiriniae'aea, scrutinizing her as if she were a squirrel that had wandered into a living room. "A fairy..." it said, referring to the archaic forms of the Elves before they were gifted larger bodies by the Gods so long ago. "Why did you call Gekir'vash'ni'k'kashnik'ash here?" Suddenly, the tension was broken when a wail rose up from neither of them, and both saw the form of the baby in the bag, shaking its fists and crying. The warlock, for it indeed had the energy signature of such a thing, tilted its head curiously. It's curiosity was likely the only thing from killing the sorceress at the current moment. "A child?" Oh FUCK! Well, you can...um, you got a lot of options. Clearly there are no easy ones. You could attempt to unsummon him, though I wouldn't try unless you're feeling really lucky. You could try to lie and bargain with what you have to save your own skin, or you could blink away though he either chases you or you lose your tower. Or you could surprise me!</s> <\|message\|>Kyiriniae'aea Kyiriniae'aea felt her mouth go dry as the demon, awesome in its power, stepped through the portal. She had a queasy feeling that she had come within a hair's breadth of her own soul being sucked through the portal to feed the thing. For a heartbeat she considered fleeing, but it seemed unlikely that if the thing really wanted her that she was going to be able to fly far and fast enough to avoid that fate. Instead she threw herself to the ground in obeisance scrapping her knees and spreading her arms wide. "A tool mighty Gekir'vash'ni'k'kashnik'ash, a pawn to aid in my designs," she informed the demon thing in her most reverential tone. She fought against the cold sweat the prickled the back of her neck, forcing herself to remain calm and think rationally. The demon thing was the most powerful entity she had yet encountered, but power did no always equate to guile. "I have called you forth to seek knowledge which only you possess," she lied glibly. "I have prepared a sacrifice for you, two gundarogs, my most faithful servants, stand at the base of this tower, teach me of your arts o great one, and they shall be but the first souls that I lay before you taloned feet," she entreated, warming to her subject as she remained unobliterated. Carefully she risked a glance up at the creature, resolving to blink for the window if it didn't appear that this were going well. Diplomacy - 8 (6+2)</s> <\|message\|>Name "A pawn to aid in your designs?" It asked, and it would dawn on her that it was not slow in thought, but was unused to speaking in such a tongue. Or perhaps it was unused to even speaking, for perhaps the realm it had come from communicated in other ways. The Thousand Realms before the material world were unthinkable in its dimensions, though Elves knew that more than most, having come from their own Fey realm millennia ago. Gekir'vash'ni'k'kashnik'ash took two steps forward, and to her horror Kyiriniae'aea would see cracks in the stone appear under his feet at each step. Either his form was so dense it was ten times heavier than he appeared, or the very stone found his presence repellent. It slowly bent its form, sucking in her stench through its enlarged, crocidilian-like nostrils. She felt the small sensation of her soul lifting from her once more, though it settled far quicker than when she had attempted to open the portal. "You will be a pawn to aid in mine." It declared, with such finality that to her, fate itself agreed. Lifting itself higher, it breathed out noxious fumes for but a moment. The black air lingered above her like a raised guillotine. "Gundarogs are paltry... No, I require more pure blood for my machinations." A clawed hand raised, and even her magesight could not detect what spell had enacted to allow the baby slide out of the sack and to float over to the entity's waiting grasp. Almost gently, it clutched the child that had stopped crying. It only looked at the bestial thing, eyes wide as if stricken. "You wish to learn from me? You are but a child as this one, but I can aid you for your services. Bring me nine more children within this planet's month, or an artifact of sufficient power that I may devour. Do so, and I will grant you powers beyond what you can perform. Do it not..." He let the threat end, for he did not need to say more. His very voice carried a threat that was far worse than death. Kyiriniae'aea would not see, but she would hear a snap, and a fleshy crunch as Gekir'vash'ni'k'kashnik'ash made his exit through the portal once more. The archway flared to life in bright flash like a collapsing star, and then it went suddenly dark. The magic no longer lingered within, and Kyiriniae'aea would be safe from any more entrances from there for now. Accompanied by the fear, the Elven woman had performed many spells that day. Though her repitoire was not yet expended, she felt almost intoxicated with the magic she had pulled to use for her spells. That coupled with her encounter of that other-wordly thing, made her feel both buzzed yet anxious. And yet there was little time to waste if she wished to perform her duties...or find a way to keep Gekir'vash'ni'k'kashnik'ash banished for good. You are still able to activate the crystal ball if you wish, or you can call for your Gundarogs, or both or neither. I will need a sanity roll, however (just faculties since you are yet to have a point in sanity).</s>	<\|message\|>Mari Civilization at last. Mari felt extremely lucky that her first encounter with another person in the Blackwood had been so positive, and the tollkeeper served as a stark reminder that it wouldn't always be that way. She took in the town, one building after the next, as Ithaca introduced them. The people didn't seem to find her arrival noteworthy; no doubt plenty of well-armed strangers made their way through this outpost. She made certain to remember Po Harthwyn's name and face, as he seemed like someone she ought to try speaking with later. There wasn't any hurry, as Mari didn't need to complete her journey on any particular timetable. Completing it alive was the important part, and that meant not venturing back out into the woods until she was rested, restocked, and armed with at least something resembling a lead. The town seemed to have everything she needed, though her funds were limited, and would be restricted to the necessities. For the moment Mari simply dismounted the horse, far less painfully than she had the last time. "If you're here tonight, can I buy you an ale later?" She grinned a little at Ithaca. "Seems I have five Lordlings more than I should thanks to you." Regardless, her first stop was the Grandhaven behind her, for a room, a hot meal so she didn't need to deplete her rations further, and a bath. Necessities, all.</s>
<\|description\|>Mari Marisaya Njalsdottir \|\| 20 \|\| Female Race Half-Elf (Silvari and Norgardian) Appearance Mari's undoubtedly a little small for a fighter, but moves with the grace and poise of someone who has had thorough training, if not a great deal of experience. She can easily pass for human even if her auburn red hair isn't covering her lightly pointed ears. Her eyes are a bright sea blue-green, and she typically gives off the look of someone still full of life and energy. She wears light armor, mostly embossed and studded leather that's probably more decorative than it is protective, with a minimum of cobbled-together plate. It's in Mari's interest to stay lightly geared, considering how often she finds herself on open water. Personality Mari is fierce, bold, and passionate, and a genuinely good woman at heart. She feels she has a great deal to make up for from her youth, and believes fully that the Daughters of Rán are her way to redemption. When working Mari is serious, focused, and efficient, and though at times self-doubt can slow her down, she has enough courage to forge ahead even when she suspects she might fail. Recently she has found meaning and purpose in helping others, and will gladly take up a worthy cause even at risk to her own safety or fortune. In quieter moments, Mari is fully capable of relaxing, unwinding, and sharing a drink and stories. She's not secretive about her past or her feelings, and finds that she connects with and empathizes easily with others. The Ninth Daughter of Rán --- Background~Aspiring Mercenary Priestess ~Lower Class, Criminal Background ~Daughter of a runaway Silvari noblewoman and a Norgardian smuggler HistoryMari has romantic origins, the result of a runaway Silvari girl fleeing an arranged marriage and a Norgardian smuggler that left his own homeland behind. She grew up in the Sea of Swords, and there the romance ended. Life as the daughter of a common smuggler was hardly easy, especially one like her father, who found himself in debt to powerful individuals. At twelve Mari found herself working to help pay off those debts, mostly to a criminal and pirate lord, an Izyrian named Ihsan. She worked for him and his crews, hopping islands and pickpocketing, thieving, spying, and eavesdropping. As she grew, she graduated to more direct assistance, and took some part in piracy and raids. It was all she knew at first, and Mari was talented and adventurous, albeit unsatisfied with the way her life was going. Everything changed at 18, when she was caught stealing from a woman named Asherah, First of the Daughters of Rán, a small but respected and even feared group of women sellswords. Often known by other names such as Sisters of the Sea or Witches of the Waves or simply the Sirens, the Daughters belonged to the clever and cunning sea-goddess Rán. The gifts she granted her Nine Daughters were not always extraordinary, but it was believed that the presence of a Daughter aboard a ship could well be the difference between a smooth voyage and a death at the hands of a passing leviathan or vicious storm. When Asherah unexpectedly took a liking to Mari, she felt the Goddess had guided them together. Rán's Daughters always numbered Nine, but recently one had passed, opening a place for Mari if she wanted it. Even knowing she'd be leaving her father on his own, not to mention making an enemy of Ihsan by betraying him, Mari accepted, and began two years of hard training with her new sisters, who protected her while she prepared to join their ranks. She learned slowly and with many mistakes, but learned all the same. The Daughters of Rán offered her a new way forward, one where she could be a better person, while still finding the adventure her heart desired. Now at the end of her training, Mari faces a rite of passage: venture into the Blackwood, alone, and make her way into the forgotten places with Rán's guidance, to find her hidden temple, a place supposedly only accessible to the Nine Daughters. There she will pray and accept the gifts the Goddess offers, seizing the power she feels she needs to fully make amends for her past. MotivationMari must find the Hidden Temple of Rán, hidden somewhere in the Blackwood, and complete her initiation into the Daughters of Rán. After that, she can follow where the waters take her, and sell her sword and skills to those she feels need it most. Witch of the Waves \| \| \| \| SkillsMari is a former thief attempting to remake herself as a proper warrior. Her abilities are spread thin between combat, knowledge, and underhanded skills. Combat [1/1]~Sword and Shield [1] ~Daggers [1] Intelligence [1/1]~Literacy [1] ~Religion [1] ~Geography [1] Charisma [1/1]~Diplomacy [2] Health [1/1]~Cold Resistance [1] Faculties [1/1]~Resolve [1] ~Perception [1] Agility [1/1]~Pick Pocket [1] ~Lockpick [1] ~Balance [1] ~Swimming [2] Mysticism [0/3] --- Equipment~One handed sword ~Wooden round shield ~Two small daggers ~Leather and partial plate armor ~Stitched hide and linen clothes ~Prayer bead necklaces with symbols of Rán Money~1 Royal ~18 Lordlings ~40 Commons Languages~Northern Tongue ~Grim Northern ~Bits and pieces of many other tongues \| \| \|</s> <\|message\|>Emilio Virtoli The merchant listened with intent to the Dwarf's words. It didn't feel often he spoke in comparison and certainly he spoke as if he had a thousand years of knowledge swirling around his mind. Any remarks were certainly worthwhile and they caught Emilio's ears as he seemed to consider them as well as his response. "Well there is much to start off from his words no? We know where we are headed and the protectors of the local area. Some dangers and warnings of where to not pass." He'd chime as he reclined back against the wood of the cart. "Olderin's Refuge, with the Knights of the Skull being some local mercenaries or glory hounds by the sounds of it. Else it sounds like we might find some luck should your 'clan' still hold land in this place. Certainly the way you speak it your talents would be of great use to them." A hand would stroke his chin in thought at that. Numbers and schemes already running about in his mind. "That or maybe these Knight folks could use some new blades. Either way, we should be able to catch some more of whats going on once we are in town. Much to your disdain of our endless ramblings it is the self same thing that shall find us riches and perhaps your people. There is much townsfolk love to gossip of, especially over a mug of fine drink. Something I feel you at least could partially agree with eh Wēlanandaz?" A smile would cross his face as he'd tilt his head to look over with his final words. Cocky and confident, as the man nearly always seemed to be.</s> <\|message\|>Name The two conversed as they began, pushing the cart uphill to help the donkey until they were set on the proper path. Once there, even the two chatty fellows would find the foliage growing more and more foreboding, almost pressing silence upon them regardless of their curiosities or efforts to keep a casual air about their travel. The donkey seemed somewhat glum (even for a donkey) but it didn't look overly agitated or fearful, which at least likely meant there was no problems with beasts so far. A large gulley lay on their right, and on their left a steep upwards incline into the swell of a hill. It rose like a wave and where it began to dip, as it was hard to tell with the trees in the way. Across the gulley and past the creek within its bed was just further trees, hiding all manner of Gods-know-what. To a couple of entrepreneurial chaps such as these, it might look like a lot of untapped resources. But the terrain was far too hilly to capitalize on it without a vast team of hired hands and a guard to keep them safe and protected if any of the stories of the Blackwood were to be believed. An hour passed by, and the donkey was guiding up yet another hill. It grunted irritably, but did its job without going lax as some stubborn donkeys were liable to do. The three just crested the hill when they found themselves on a straight path without the perils of twisting over uneven ground. The trees here were thicker, however, but that was not the most noticeable aspect. In front of them stood two large men; Knights, in fact. They were black and grey, with a marking of a skull at the center of their torso. Emilio and Wēlanandaz would see they were heavily armored in gambesons, chainmail, and bits of plate in the form of pauldrons and greaves. Their faces were hidden behind great helms given the visages of skulls at the front, and two steel horns plumed with feathers fanned out above their helmets. They held large swords, perhaps greatswords even, their blades on the ground with both hands on the hilts made of bone. Silently they stood there, saying nothing as the two fellows and their donkey came into their field of vision. Were it not for the slight tremor of their bodies from breathing, and the fact they were standing upright, it would have been difficult to tell if they were awake or even alive. Pajamas@Jb</s>	<\|message\|>Mari Mari found Rittenvos to be new and exciting and yet somehow quite familiar. It was the mood of the people, she decided, that was similar to the Sea of Swords. Lots of travelers and mercenaries and merchants, people in general not tied down to any location, simply passing through in search of adventure, fortune, or their own goals. For once Mari was one of them rather than simply a local. By the time she made it to the barroom her purse was two lordlings lighter. She felt lighter too, given the layer of sweat, dirt, and grime she'd washed off, though perhaps that was also because she'd left her plate, shield, and pack in her room. Considering how many other sellswords there were here wearing armor and weapons, Mari simply changed into a fresh white tunic and dark brown leggings, and cleaned her leathers as best she could before donning them again. On her belt were her sword, daggers, coin pouch, and necklaces of Rán. She'd managed to get a decent meal to fill her belly before turning in to her room, so it was ale she sought after now, and when she had two pints in her hands she made her way over to the right side of the room, trying to catch Ithaca's attention as she approached. She seemed to be conversing with the... man? Next to her, though Mari had to admit she'd never seen any of their race before. The plate armor was certainly fine, far better than what Mari could afford. "Hope I'm not intruding," she greeted, offering the pint. "I promised the Road Warden here an ale. If not for her I'd probably be wyvern food by now."</s>
<\|description\|>Mari Marisaya Njalsdottir \|\| 20 \|\| Female Race Half-Elf (Silvari and Norgardian) Appearance Mari's undoubtedly a little small for a fighter, but moves with the grace and poise of someone who has had thorough training, if not a great deal of experience. She can easily pass for human even if her auburn red hair isn't covering her lightly pointed ears. Her eyes are a bright sea blue-green, and she typically gives off the look of someone still full of life and energy. She wears light armor, mostly embossed and studded leather that's probably more decorative than it is protective, with a minimum of cobbled-together plate. It's in Mari's interest to stay lightly geared, considering how often she finds herself on open water. Personality Mari is fierce, bold, and passionate, and a genuinely good woman at heart. She feels she has a great deal to make up for from her youth, and believes fully that the Daughters of Rán are her way to redemption. When working Mari is serious, focused, and efficient, and though at times self-doubt can slow her down, she has enough courage to forge ahead even when she suspects she might fail. Recently she has found meaning and purpose in helping others, and will gladly take up a worthy cause even at risk to her own safety or fortune. In quieter moments, Mari is fully capable of relaxing, unwinding, and sharing a drink and stories. She's not secretive about her past or her feelings, and finds that she connects with and empathizes easily with others. The Ninth Daughter of Rán --- Background~Aspiring Mercenary Priestess ~Lower Class, Criminal Background ~Daughter of a runaway Silvari noblewoman and a Norgardian smuggler HistoryMari has romantic origins, the result of a runaway Silvari girl fleeing an arranged marriage and a Norgardian smuggler that left his own homeland behind. She grew up in the Sea of Swords, and there the romance ended. Life as the daughter of a common smuggler was hardly easy, especially one like her father, who found himself in debt to powerful individuals. At twelve Mari found herself working to help pay off those debts, mostly to a criminal and pirate lord, an Izyrian named Ihsan. She worked for him and his crews, hopping islands and pickpocketing, thieving, spying, and eavesdropping. As she grew, she graduated to more direct assistance, and took some part in piracy and raids. It was all she knew at first, and Mari was talented and adventurous, albeit unsatisfied with the way her life was going. Everything changed at 18, when she was caught stealing from a woman named Asherah, First of the Daughters of Rán, a small but respected and even feared group of women sellswords. Often known by other names such as Sisters of the Sea or Witches of the Waves or simply the Sirens, the Daughters belonged to the clever and cunning sea-goddess Rán. The gifts she granted her Nine Daughters were not always extraordinary, but it was believed that the presence of a Daughter aboard a ship could well be the difference between a smooth voyage and a death at the hands of a passing leviathan or vicious storm. When Asherah unexpectedly took a liking to Mari, she felt the Goddess had guided them together. Rán's Daughters always numbered Nine, but recently one had passed, opening a place for Mari if she wanted it. Even knowing she'd be leaving her father on his own, not to mention making an enemy of Ihsan by betraying him, Mari accepted, and began two years of hard training with her new sisters, who protected her while she prepared to join their ranks. She learned slowly and with many mistakes, but learned all the same. The Daughters of Rán offered her a new way forward, one where she could be a better person, while still finding the adventure her heart desired. Now at the end of her training, Mari faces a rite of passage: venture into the Blackwood, alone, and make her way into the forgotten places with Rán's guidance, to find her hidden temple, a place supposedly only accessible to the Nine Daughters. There she will pray and accept the gifts the Goddess offers, seizing the power she feels she needs to fully make amends for her past. MotivationMari must find the Hidden Temple of Rán, hidden somewhere in the Blackwood, and complete her initiation into the Daughters of Rán. After that, she can follow where the waters take her, and sell her sword and skills to those she feels need it most. Witch of the Waves \| \| \| \| SkillsMari is a former thief attempting to remake herself as a proper warrior. Her abilities are spread thin between combat, knowledge, and underhanded skills. Combat [1/1]~Sword and Shield [1] ~Daggers [1] Intelligence [1/1]~Literacy [1] ~Religion [1] ~Geography [1] Charisma [1/1]~Diplomacy [2] Health [1/1]~Cold Resistance [1] Faculties [1/1]~Resolve [1] ~Perception [1] Agility [1/1]~Pick Pocket [1] ~Lockpick [1] ~Balance [1] ~Swimming [2] Mysticism [0/3] --- Equipment~One handed sword ~Wooden round shield ~Two small daggers ~Leather and partial plate armor ~Stitched hide and linen clothes ~Prayer bead necklaces with symbols of Rán Money~1 Royal ~18 Lordlings ~40 Commons Languages~Northern Tongue ~Grim Northern ~Bits and pieces of many other tongues \| \| \|</s> <\|message\|>Kyiriniae'aea Kyiriniae'aea sagged with relief as the human mage stepped through the portal. She didn't much like humans, they could be powerful but their short roach like lives made them unpredictable and grasping. Still, given her other companions were literal cannibals, she supposed she could tolerate the arrival of so useful a pawn. "I did," she admitted, smiling winsomely and stepping forward, holding out her hand like a human noble so that the mage could take it and kiss it in the proscribed fashion. She made a gesture that encompassed room. "We are in a place called the Blackwood," she explained, taking a step back and gesturing to one of the chairs by the table in her newly cleaned study. The chaos had been put to right and she even had taken the time to properly set up the alchemical equipment in the corner. The tower still didn't quite look lived in, but it no longer resembled the ruin it had when she had first come in. "I'm afraid it was something of a desperation move," she confessed, her lip quivering ever so slightly to convey fear and vulnerability as she took her own seat. She badly wished she had some wine, but that would have to wait, instead she offered the human some of the roasted boar that her servants had brought her. "I am Kyiriniae'aea, though you may call me Kyra," she introduced herself. She chewed on the end of one of her long blonde locks for a moment before continuing. "I am afraid I have been cursed by a Warlock," she admitted, "and if you were willing to aid me, I would be forever in your debt."</s> <\|message\|>Emilio Virtoli Today was a reminder of why Emilio did not have a particular love of hilly countries. Truly it was an omen of bad business if the man had to get out of his cart and push it himself. Though perhaps it also spoke of necessity for other goods, as the stubborn would persist or unprepared fools would be in need of wares or in want of luxury. Those thoughts kept running through his mind repetition as he assessed the land idly for its goods and what needs he could meet. That was at least until they would finally be able to peer above the 'final' hill and see human form again after their hours of journey. The Dre Costan would work quickly to dust himself off. There was no time to change into more formal wear but he would be presentable for sure. Fixing his hair back and putting on a confident smile. By their way of dress it would have to be impossible to mistake them as anything other than the Knights of the Skull. A hand would pat his ass's head as he'd stride ahead. Cutting the sizable distance slowly as he spoke with a voice that would certainly reach the men. "Gentlemen, what a sight for our weary eyes! Straight from Varian's Crossing we've come here searching for Olderin's Refuge. I believe none could mistake you as anything other than its protectors." There was a certainty to his words. Strange one might think for being new travelers of Blackwood. "Any warnings, expectations, news you would wish to impart?" He'd ask as he kept his approach slow and closing the gap, cart behind. @POOHEAD189</s> <\|message\|>Name Ithaca blinked, turning to look behind her when the Draconic thing halted speaking, grunting in acknowledgment. Mari suddenly realized he was a Drogator, rumored to be a dying people. Other than a few stories of their ferocity in combat and some vague legends of them being from another world, she wouldn't know much. It was likely just surprising to see one in person. Unnverving likely. So much like a Dragon of legend, and yet somewhat similar to a man in a very eerie fashion. "Ah, you kept your word!" Ithaca said, clearly joking about being surprised. "I'm glad to see you up and about, and less smelly." She almost looked like she was going to pinch the bridge of her nose playfully, but decided to take a sip of the drink Mari got her instead. She had her priorities straight. It was clear she had already had a few, hence her stoic demeanor giving way to cutting loose a bit. "Allow me to introduce you. Kane, I would like you to meet Mari." She said, turning around on the stool to present them both to one another. "A very brave woman I met just today on the road. Mari, this is Kane. One of the most honorable fellows I've ever met. He seems tough, but throw a chicken breast and he'll chase after it like a dog." Mari heard a very threatening growl from the Drogator. It actually vibrated the wood beneath their feet. However, a moment to reflect would reveal it was actually chuckling. A few of the patrons, including a commoner couple clearly on a date gave small yelps of surprise. Comically, the girl looked at the guy she was with when she realized his voice sounded just like hers and he nearly fell out of his chair. One might not blame him but in the Blackwood, bravery was a virtue. "It is an honor to meet you." Kane said, bowing how he could in such armor. "What brings you to such a place?" "I was going to ask her that myself." Ithaca remarked, her chest facing the crowd and her elbows behind her, resting on the wood of the bar.</s> <\|message\|>Name The mad, squealing bray of the beast behind him was almost more haunting than it's very real charge not a minute earlier. Torsten's side bit at him with a stabbing pain that simultaneously ached like he had not felt in months. But it was nothing he couldn't handle, as long as he kept his posture at a certain level. Luckily for him, the forest allowed him to move hidden behind brush and gloom. Unfortunately, it also allowed other creatures to potentially do the same. The forests of Norgard were primordial and vast, and Torsten would not feel so unused to such thick woodland. The very roots of the towering trees ripped and shaped the very earth beneath his feet, making much of the ground uneven and misshapen, and the rest would be covered in bushes or thick grass that quieted the footsteps of whatever walked upon them. What was strange wasn't the thickness of the forest, but the dim lighting. Even a forest as great as this with such a large canopy above would have more sunlight cutting into the darkness. Doing his best not to stumble, Torsten would almost not see the sudden drop in the underbrush before it reached the front half of his leading foot. Likely to his surprise and horror, he would notice the drop was actually a footprint. A footprint as large as his torso and very humanoid in shape. Small roots and vines jutted out of the now softened earth below, as if gasping for air from whence they were pressed. Luckily (in a fashion), the accompanying war cry Torsten heard next didn't sound like it came from whatever Jotun or strange forest creature. It was a piercing scream that carried bloodlust wherever it echoed, spreading across what bits of the foliage it could. Judging by the echo, it likely came from the south. The birds springing to life and fluttering away mostly came from that direction as well. When the forest spoke, one need only listen.</s>	<\|message\|>Mari Mari had to force herself not to stare at the Drogator in fascination. It took her a moment to realize what he was. No doubt Kane was used to stares; his armor alone was enough to provoke gawking, to say nothing of the being encased inside it. He seemed friendly enough, if a little terrifying. She would hate to see how he looked as an enemy. She was mid-drink of her ale when Kane chuckled, and Mari nearly spat out a mouthful, but managed to contain herself, holding the back of her hand to her lips until she was sure she wasn't going to be an embarrassment. "Brave, or perhaps just stupid," she said, smiling broadly. "I serve Rán, the sea goddess. I'm on a pilgrimage to one of her oldest temples, here in the Blackwood. I'm to become her Ninth Daughter. If I can survive the rite of passage, that is." There was a chance they'd heard of the Daughters, if Ithaca and Kane were as well-traveled as they looked. The eldest of them had much fame in the Sea of Swords and even beyond, and while Mari had no legend to speak of yet, the name of the little group carried some weight. Perhaps not here, though. As far as Mari knew, the last time a Daughter of Rán entered the Blackwood was over twenty years ago, when the Eighth passed her initiation. "Thing is," she continued, "it's said that only Daughters of Rán can find and enter the temple, so I'm not sure if anyone here can help me." A few of the Daughters Mari had spoken with suspected that the temple actually moved somehow, and that old, powerful magic protected it from curious eyes and those that the Widow didn't care for. If she couldn't pick up on any lead, Mari felt she'd have to simply set out on her own, and hope the Goddess guided her.</s>
<\|description\|>Mari Marisaya Njalsdottir \|\| 20 \|\| Female Race Half-Elf (Silvari and Norgardian) Appearance Mari's undoubtedly a little small for a fighter, but moves with the grace and poise of someone who has had thorough training, if not a great deal of experience. She can easily pass for human even if her auburn red hair isn't covering her lightly pointed ears. Her eyes are a bright sea blue-green, and she typically gives off the look of someone still full of life and energy. She wears light armor, mostly embossed and studded leather that's probably more decorative than it is protective, with a minimum of cobbled-together plate. It's in Mari's interest to stay lightly geared, considering how often she finds herself on open water. Personality Mari is fierce, bold, and passionate, and a genuinely good woman at heart. She feels she has a great deal to make up for from her youth, and believes fully that the Daughters of Rán are her way to redemption. When working Mari is serious, focused, and efficient, and though at times self-doubt can slow her down, she has enough courage to forge ahead even when she suspects she might fail. Recently she has found meaning and purpose in helping others, and will gladly take up a worthy cause even at risk to her own safety or fortune. In quieter moments, Mari is fully capable of relaxing, unwinding, and sharing a drink and stories. She's not secretive about her past or her feelings, and finds that she connects with and empathizes easily with others. The Ninth Daughter of Rán --- Background~Aspiring Mercenary Priestess ~Lower Class, Criminal Background ~Daughter of a runaway Silvari noblewoman and a Norgardian smuggler HistoryMari has romantic origins, the result of a runaway Silvari girl fleeing an arranged marriage and a Norgardian smuggler that left his own homeland behind. She grew up in the Sea of Swords, and there the romance ended. Life as the daughter of a common smuggler was hardly easy, especially one like her father, who found himself in debt to powerful individuals. At twelve Mari found herself working to help pay off those debts, mostly to a criminal and pirate lord, an Izyrian named Ihsan. She worked for him and his crews, hopping islands and pickpocketing, thieving, spying, and eavesdropping. As she grew, she graduated to more direct assistance, and took some part in piracy and raids. It was all she knew at first, and Mari was talented and adventurous, albeit unsatisfied with the way her life was going. Everything changed at 18, when she was caught stealing from a woman named Asherah, First of the Daughters of Rán, a small but respected and even feared group of women sellswords. Often known by other names such as Sisters of the Sea or Witches of the Waves or simply the Sirens, the Daughters belonged to the clever and cunning sea-goddess Rán. The gifts she granted her Nine Daughters were not always extraordinary, but it was believed that the presence of a Daughter aboard a ship could well be the difference between a smooth voyage and a death at the hands of a passing leviathan or vicious storm. When Asherah unexpectedly took a liking to Mari, she felt the Goddess had guided them together. Rán's Daughters always numbered Nine, but recently one had passed, opening a place for Mari if she wanted it. Even knowing she'd be leaving her father on his own, not to mention making an enemy of Ihsan by betraying him, Mari accepted, and began two years of hard training with her new sisters, who protected her while she prepared to join their ranks. She learned slowly and with many mistakes, but learned all the same. The Daughters of Rán offered her a new way forward, one where she could be a better person, while still finding the adventure her heart desired. Now at the end of her training, Mari faces a rite of passage: venture into the Blackwood, alone, and make her way into the forgotten places with Rán's guidance, to find her hidden temple, a place supposedly only accessible to the Nine Daughters. There she will pray and accept the gifts the Goddess offers, seizing the power she feels she needs to fully make amends for her past. MotivationMari must find the Hidden Temple of Rán, hidden somewhere in the Blackwood, and complete her initiation into the Daughters of Rán. After that, she can follow where the waters take her, and sell her sword and skills to those she feels need it most. Witch of the Waves \| \| \| \| SkillsMari is a former thief attempting to remake herself as a proper warrior. Her abilities are spread thin between combat, knowledge, and underhanded skills. Combat [1/1]~Sword and Shield [1] ~Daggers [1] Intelligence [1/1]~Literacy [1] ~Religion [1] ~Geography [1] Charisma [1/1]~Diplomacy [2] Health [1/1]~Cold Resistance [1] Faculties [1/1]~Resolve [1] ~Perception [1] Agility [1/1]~Pick Pocket [1] ~Lockpick [1] ~Balance [1] ~Swimming [2] Mysticism [0/3] --- Equipment~One handed sword ~Wooden round shield ~Two small daggers ~Leather and partial plate armor ~Stitched hide and linen clothes ~Prayer bead necklaces with symbols of Rán Money~1 Royal ~18 Lordlings ~40 Commons Languages~Northern Tongue ~Grim Northern ~Bits and pieces of many other tongues \| \| \|</s> <\|message\|>Name The Iron Star remained bustling with patrons, though as the time moved on a bit there were a few men and women who had regained their feet and headed off before the night crowd showed up. The 'business' transaction that Cillian was attempting to overhear didn't quite catch his ear, but he could see their manner and clearly knew bits of information were being passed. If he chose to remain there and do or say nothing, whatever opportunity might be there would pass. But of course, opportunities abounded in Greybridge, and he could check on his companion at the moment who seemed to be deep in conversation with a certain Dwarf. The Dwarf in question had either a bit too much (which was saying something for his stout kind) or he simply didn't care to scrutinize too much. Perhaps he was depressed? But he believed Sylvaine, and it was clear from the way he raised his head from his frothing mug, curiosity evident under his bushy brows. Of course, once Sylvaine mentioned coin, he had a sudden look of skepticism and distrusts, but it wasn't overt. It was obvious he would at least think about the proposal, and he did just that, stroking his thick beard as he considered. "Couple o' silver..." He groaned quietly and looked at his drink again. He was thinking that he could be giving them a few silver to fail or run off while he could instead use it to buy more drinks. Luckily, his Dwarven sense of clan and duty overrode his Dwarven love of ale. He suddenly spoke up. "Fine. Four silver coins, and ye get me cousin back in the week. If ye don't, yer to find me here at midday and pay me back. If I never see ye again, it won't turn out good for ye. We Dwarves have a long memory and a short temper, understand?" It was clearly a threat, but at the end of his speech, it was clear he dare not hope they would find his cousin again, lest he feel even more depressed at the prospect of failure. He handed Sylvaine four silver Lordlings just as the Skayleigh got up from the booth that Cillian was watching, making her way past his table. Her mace lightly bumped the tableside. @Romero</s> <\|message\|>Name The two were Knights of the Skull. A secretive order known for their ferocity and unwavering endurance in a fight. With those swords, it looked as if they could deal a large amount of damage as well. Emilio's words were not heeded, at least at first. The two seemed to not move for a good ten seconds, and it was hard to tell where their eyes were within the slits of their great helms. Wēlanandaz warning broke the silence, and not a moment later did the two suddenly move. An eerie palor would fall over most who saw them suddenly move, as it looked as possible as two statues that decided they were tired of standing still. "Follow us." One said. Which one was hard to tell, but the two didn't seem to wait for you to gather your thoughts of explain any of the things Emilio asked. Mercifully, the ground was far less broken and hilly now. It seemed to be almost a straight shot forward, though the trees and thickets were ever reaching and prominent around them, sometimes twigs/leaves clinging to Emilio's robes or Wēlanandaz's beard. The donkey seemed at ease at least, though if they were to try and get nearer the Knights, the donkey seemed oddly reluctant. Around half an hour later, the Knights would suddenly halt and split apart to allow your cart to pass. As you near the two, the trees give way to a stout stone wall looming out of the forested path, earthworks having separated the wall from the forest by about a dozen feet. Before you is a large wooden gateway, already slowly opening for the two of you to enter. The men atop the wall don't seem to be Knights of the Skull, or at least full fledged members. However the two would certainly see a few of them training in a small yard left of the gate, clinging to the side of the keep that shot into the sky. Olderin's Refuge, if this truly was the place, seemed to be a lowly built castle settlement, with two large walls sweeping over the landscape like a snake trying to push its form outwards. The keep, and the backgate the two now entered, was within the inner wall. The outer wall faced the north where the greater blackwood was located. As they entered, they saw two important aristocrats (judging by their clothing) speaking to one another near the training Knights, and a few squires and servants carrying horses to the stables across the way. Perhaps they would be better served finding work on the outer settlement? Pajamas@Jb</s> <\|message\|>Name Rittenvos was merely an outpost, but the fact that so many people filled the common room of the inn, and earlier when Mari saw the lively market, showcased just how much travelers and explorers counted upon this small bastion of civilization. In order to keep the flow moving, adventurers and mercenaries were likely as needed as fresh water. Little surprise then when Ithaca brought Mari across the common room to the very low-end, shoddy table that was attached to the wall. Ithaca elbowed her way over and gave Mari space to step forward, and she found herself in the company of four people. Kane sat on the ground, for the chair wouldn't be able to keep him aloft without breaking. The beast of a warrior was likely twice the weight of an already big man. She could see his thick tail splayed out behind him, resting like the tail of a crocodile. Next to him was a far shorter but still very heavy and dense fellow, Orek. He had an air of mischief and intelligence to him, and again he seemed to be leaner than most would expect from Dwarves. Likely for his traveling lifestyle. His garb was leather and cloth, though undoubtedly he had finely wrought chainmail beneath his cloak. He smiled through his beard when he saw Ithaca walk over, his pipe in his teeth. "Oh, are ye coming with us lass? Or did ye bring someone to take yer place?" Orek asked slyly. Both Orek and Kane were on the right side of the table. On the left were two striking people. One was a lovely elven woman, her blonde hair tied in a bun, her shapely form in a kalasiris, a strange priestly robe. She seemed particularly haughty in nature, raising an eyebrow at Mari when she appeared. Beside her was Po, who was even more handsome up close. His eyes sparkled with a fire that promised humor and intellect, and his dark mane of hair was cut just halfway down his neck. He was likely tall, despite the fact he was seated. He gave a friendly smile, his full lips noticably on his tanned skin. "I know you'll be having a bit of a get together tomorrow. Seeing as I'm leaving, I thought I might give you a recommendation." Ithaca said, and Mari would be playfully pushed forward a bit by the Praelian. Apparently she was still a bit too tipsy to be completely professional. "Hey," Po said casually, and he held his hand out to Mari to shake. "You were the warrior that made it here today, from the southern road?" "The one that riled the Dragon?" The Elf pipped in. "No one riled the Dragon, pointy ear." Orek said. "'Least, no one here." "Phyrrae doesn't like other women cramping her style." Po joked, which caused the elf to clearly take offense at that suggestion, though she didn't speak immediately.</s>	<\|message\|>Mari Mari found herself pushed forward into a dashing group of adventurers, smiling a little awkwardly back at Ithaca. One of her sisters had fashioned her leathers, and while they were finely crafted, embossed and studded and fitted comfortably to her form, with swirling and twisting decorative elements of Norgardian design, Mari felt she was certainly the least impressive of this group. Kane and his plate armor she'd already encountered, but now she got a better look at the elven woman in her beautiful priestly robes. They were of Nestariel, the healer, or at least she thought, as the design was more exotic and archaic than other traveling priests she'd encountered before. Her gaze seemed to pierce through, but Mari paid it little mind. She was new, after all. The dwarf seemed friendly enough, Orek, and then there was Po, his hand outstretched towards her. "That's me," she said, giving it a shake. "My name's Mari, I've come from the Sea of Swords. I'm going to be here for a little while at least, so I thought I'd look for some opportunities." Her holy symbols of Rán were displayed openly hanging from her belts for the observant. She didn't laugh at Po's joke, only smiling a little, as she wasn't sure what the dynamic here was yet, and had no desire to turn the elven woman's disposition against her before they'd even begun. "I can pull my own weight in a fight and in the wild, if you'll have me."</s>
<\|description\|>Mari Marisaya Njalsdottir \|\| 20 \|\| Female Race Half-Elf (Silvari and Norgardian) Appearance Mari's undoubtedly a little small for a fighter, but moves with the grace and poise of someone who has had thorough training, if not a great deal of experience. She can easily pass for human even if her auburn red hair isn't covering her lightly pointed ears. Her eyes are a bright sea blue-green, and she typically gives off the look of someone still full of life and energy. She wears light armor, mostly embossed and studded leather that's probably more decorative than it is protective, with a minimum of cobbled-together plate. It's in Mari's interest to stay lightly geared, considering how often she finds herself on open water. Personality Mari is fierce, bold, and passionate, and a genuinely good woman at heart. She feels she has a great deal to make up for from her youth, and believes fully that the Daughters of Rán are her way to redemption. When working Mari is serious, focused, and efficient, and though at times self-doubt can slow her down, she has enough courage to forge ahead even when she suspects she might fail. Recently she has found meaning and purpose in helping others, and will gladly take up a worthy cause even at risk to her own safety or fortune. In quieter moments, Mari is fully capable of relaxing, unwinding, and sharing a drink and stories. She's not secretive about her past or her feelings, and finds that she connects with and empathizes easily with others. The Ninth Daughter of Rán --- Background~Aspiring Mercenary Priestess ~Lower Class, Criminal Background ~Daughter of a runaway Silvari noblewoman and a Norgardian smuggler HistoryMari has romantic origins, the result of a runaway Silvari girl fleeing an arranged marriage and a Norgardian smuggler that left his own homeland behind. She grew up in the Sea of Swords, and there the romance ended. Life as the daughter of a common smuggler was hardly easy, especially one like her father, who found himself in debt to powerful individuals. At twelve Mari found herself working to help pay off those debts, mostly to a criminal and pirate lord, an Izyrian named Ihsan. She worked for him and his crews, hopping islands and pickpocketing, thieving, spying, and eavesdropping. As she grew, she graduated to more direct assistance, and took some part in piracy and raids. It was all she knew at first, and Mari was talented and adventurous, albeit unsatisfied with the way her life was going. Everything changed at 18, when she was caught stealing from a woman named Asherah, First of the Daughters of Rán, a small but respected and even feared group of women sellswords. Often known by other names such as Sisters of the Sea or Witches of the Waves or simply the Sirens, the Daughters belonged to the clever and cunning sea-goddess Rán. The gifts she granted her Nine Daughters were not always extraordinary, but it was believed that the presence of a Daughter aboard a ship could well be the difference between a smooth voyage and a death at the hands of a passing leviathan or vicious storm. When Asherah unexpectedly took a liking to Mari, she felt the Goddess had guided them together. Rán's Daughters always numbered Nine, but recently one had passed, opening a place for Mari if she wanted it. Even knowing she'd be leaving her father on his own, not to mention making an enemy of Ihsan by betraying him, Mari accepted, and began two years of hard training with her new sisters, who protected her while she prepared to join their ranks. She learned slowly and with many mistakes, but learned all the same. The Daughters of Rán offered her a new way forward, one where she could be a better person, while still finding the adventure her heart desired. Now at the end of her training, Mari faces a rite of passage: venture into the Blackwood, alone, and make her way into the forgotten places with Rán's guidance, to find her hidden temple, a place supposedly only accessible to the Nine Daughters. There she will pray and accept the gifts the Goddess offers, seizing the power she feels she needs to fully make amends for her past. MotivationMari must find the Hidden Temple of Rán, hidden somewhere in the Blackwood, and complete her initiation into the Daughters of Rán. After that, she can follow where the waters take her, and sell her sword and skills to those she feels need it most. Witch of the Waves \| \| \| \| SkillsMari is a former thief attempting to remake herself as a proper warrior. Her abilities are spread thin between combat, knowledge, and underhanded skills. Combat [1/1]~Sword and Shield [1] ~Daggers [1] Intelligence [1/1]~Literacy [1] ~Religion [1] ~Geography [1] Charisma [1/1]~Diplomacy [2] Health [1/1]~Cold Resistance [1] Faculties [1/1]~Resolve [1] ~Perception [1] Agility [1/1]~Pick Pocket [1] ~Lockpick [1] ~Balance [1] ~Swimming [2] Mysticism [0/3] --- Equipment~One handed sword ~Wooden round shield ~Two small daggers ~Leather and partial plate armor ~Stitched hide and linen clothes ~Prayer bead necklaces with symbols of Rán Money~1 Royal ~18 Lordlings ~40 Commons Languages~Northern Tongue ~Grim Northern ~Bits and pieces of many other tongues \| \| \|</s> <\|message\|>Emilio Virtoli Hearing = 4 + 1 = 5 (Got response from Poohead already) Charm = 7 + 1 = 8 "See? They wouldn't hurt respectable fellows like ourselves!" Emilio would proudly declare as they were escorted along the path forward. There was some part of him that was glad they no longer had to push the cart along, but also less than happy as the brush was thick and dirtied his outfit. If this was common certainly there was an opportunity to be a washer of clothes right? Wherever there are towns there are royals in need. It was a thought he held aside from wondering what the landscape itself held, and what business was ripe with opportunity. Truly if people were terrified of coming here there had to be untapped potential. Lumber certainly would be in no short supply, though he'd have to get an arbor's opinion on its qualities. With all the hills there had to be at least a few deposits of ores in the area that had to be of some worth. Perhaps he could work out something with the ferryman if this place itself was lacking in professionals. Paying for their transport at discounted prices in exchange for each man's expertise. Such ambitions would have to wait as they'd have to work up some funds, and certainly get Wēlanandaz a proper forge again at the least. His theories got disoriented slightly as they finally came out of the thicket and could lay eyes properly on the wall in front of them. Walled in protection was certainly a boon, but it immediately ripped away the idea of a 'town' as he had thought of it before. Space was ever in demand in these places and that certainly could be a hinderance, especially depending on how these folk valued coin. Though all the same it left room for specialty, causing the man's mind to race once more. A few pats on his donkey's head would be a reward for now having helped them make it this far. His eyes would immediately scan inside as the gate lifted, trying to get a scope of Olderin's Refuge. Immediate of note was the lack of 'buildings' in this section. This was obviously property of the Knights of the Skull, and likely the occupants further inside would have better answers of what service exactly they provided and at what cost. His immediate business thoughts would be set aside however at the eyeing and listening in to the two seemingly 'nobles' of this area. Or at least what passed for nobles. He'd curse silently at the brush that had dirtied his clothes on the way here, as he quickly worked to get what matter of foliage lay stuck to him off. Had he more time he would of changed into his good clothes, but that sort of sight now would be unseemly. He'd have to kick it up a notch with his words to make up for his lackluster appearance was his obvious thought. "I'll handle this one Wēlanandaz, see if there's anything we can sort out or lock in agreements for. Perhaps they can help us find a place to settle in for the night as well." He would mutter softly to his companion before striding forth, not one to dilly dally and await a reply. As with everything, he would walk with flair into their view before announcing himself. "Gentlemen gentlemen, please pardon my intrusion into your conversation. I couldn't help but overhear your current woes. Me and my companions-" A hand would give a stroke to the donkey's head. "Are but recent arrivals who wish to cure your worries in what ways we can. I heard some fine men have gone missing? Alas, were I more skilled with my blade I would venture out myself and thrash whatever foul miscreant or miscreation was responsible. What I can offer however is mine and my friend's services. Ah, but let me introduce us so that you might understand." The Dre Costan would puff out his chest slightly as he made ready to add all the more gestures to the introduction. "Emilio Virtoli, merchant and intellectual of the Dre Costan nation. Behind is my quite capable and sturdy companion Wēlanandaz, skilled smith who knows his way around almost anything you throw at him. Finally, our reliable pack animal Bertillo who carries the burdens of our work." A smile would flash as he happily introduced each of them. "Alas, I would be more than happy to help ensure ample supply and good steel in fine fashion was of the men's use, but do you know how heavy all the things for a forge are?" His voice seemed to turn quite dramatic, his face and actions following in quick fashion as he certainly exaggerated for effect. "I'm sure my dwarf friend could give you quite the answer, though he'd as quickly call me a weakling for complaining of such as his people are built as mountains!" A laugh was added on as he quickly shifted tone with each line. "Anyways, not to drag on too much but if you wish something could certainly be arranged I imagine to help render our services." @JB</s> <\|message\|>Name Po gave her a smile in return and held out his hand to shake. If she took it she would feel his hand was strong and callused from some sort of labor. "If Ithaca vouches for you, you're more than welcome honestly. Besides, you have the look of someone who's done their share of traveling. Let me-" Po got up and turned, gnabbing a loose chair from out of the crowd that Mari wouldn't have noticed before from another table. As he did, Phyrrae sipped her drink languidly. Orek's smile spread at Mari, revealing two golden teeth. "Don't be nervous. We're no' what you might call a daring group of adventurers. Ye'll do just fine." Phyrrae nearly jumped when Po pointed at Orek, his finger thrusting past her face. "Oh, come on! Mari, this dwarf is the most famous adventurer within four hundred miles. Probably further." Po looked like he was a huge fanboy at that moment, suddenly giving off an air of a wide eyed boy rather than the rakish man he might look when you only get a glimpse of him. For his part, the Dwarf just waved him off, spouting off some small excuse as to why that was just youthful blathering. Ithaca leaned over Mari's shoulder. "It's true, that Dwarf has been to twice as many places as me in the Blackwood, and we've been here around the same time. Don't let him downplay it." "If no one will speak of where we are going, then I will!" Boomed Kane. Phyrrae, who was attempting to sip her drink for a third time, flinched and the alcohol sloshed off onto the table. Her eyes flared and shot at Kane, but the Drogotar was already too far into beginning what they came to speak about. "Orek here has told us that he may have found the Forge of Gandelyn the Smith, who wrought the Seven Runic Rings! This is an endeavor worthy of remembrance!" Po had placed his hands over his ears. It was true the tavern was loud, but being so close to a humanoid so large, it could reverberate one's eardrums quite easily. "Yeah..." He remarked, lowering his hands and blinking. "If even one of those rings is there, it could be significant in over a dozen ways."</s>	<\|message\|>Mari Mari took Po's hand and shook, then accepted the chair he brought over for her, feeling a little more relaxed as each moment passed. They all seemed friendly enough, this group, save for the elf, but she was starting to suspect the woman was like that towards everyone. She smiled at the others singing the dwarf's praises, eventually leaning back in her chair and lifting one leg over the other. She jumped, however, at the booming voice of Kane, though she ended up laughing nervously a few moments later. "The Forge? Gandelyn the Smith? Seven Runic Rings?" she repeated, looking from one group member to the next. "I'm not familiar, I'm afraid." If she had to guess, it was some sort of dwarven thing. Dwarves weren't all that common in the Sea of Swords, really. The waters often didn't agree with them, as they preferred the bellies of mountains to that of the seas. "If that significance includes a bit of coin, I'm happy to tag along and help out." It was perhaps the most adventurer job she'd ever had the opportunity to join, the only motivation being the promise of some significant artifact, and the journey requiring a group to delve into forgotten places, full of unknown dangers. Sounded like fun, really.</s>
<\|description\|>Mari Marisaya Njalsdottir \|\| 20 \|\| Female Race Half-Elf (Silvari and Norgardian) Appearance Mari's undoubtedly a little small for a fighter, but moves with the grace and poise of someone who has had thorough training, if not a great deal of experience. She can easily pass for human even if her auburn red hair isn't covering her lightly pointed ears. Her eyes are a bright sea blue-green, and she typically gives off the look of someone still full of life and energy. She wears light armor, mostly embossed and studded leather that's probably more decorative than it is protective, with a minimum of cobbled-together plate. It's in Mari's interest to stay lightly geared, considering how often she finds herself on open water. Personality Mari is fierce, bold, and passionate, and a genuinely good woman at heart. She feels she has a great deal to make up for from her youth, and believes fully that the Daughters of Rán are her way to redemption. When working Mari is serious, focused, and efficient, and though at times self-doubt can slow her down, she has enough courage to forge ahead even when she suspects she might fail. Recently she has found meaning and purpose in helping others, and will gladly take up a worthy cause even at risk to her own safety or fortune. In quieter moments, Mari is fully capable of relaxing, unwinding, and sharing a drink and stories. She's not secretive about her past or her feelings, and finds that she connects with and empathizes easily with others. The Ninth Daughter of Rán --- Background~Aspiring Mercenary Priestess ~Lower Class, Criminal Background ~Daughter of a runaway Silvari noblewoman and a Norgardian smuggler HistoryMari has romantic origins, the result of a runaway Silvari girl fleeing an arranged marriage and a Norgardian smuggler that left his own homeland behind. She grew up in the Sea of Swords, and there the romance ended. Life as the daughter of a common smuggler was hardly easy, especially one like her father, who found himself in debt to powerful individuals. At twelve Mari found herself working to help pay off those debts, mostly to a criminal and pirate lord, an Izyrian named Ihsan. She worked for him and his crews, hopping islands and pickpocketing, thieving, spying, and eavesdropping. As she grew, she graduated to more direct assistance, and took some part in piracy and raids. It was all she knew at first, and Mari was talented and adventurous, albeit unsatisfied with the way her life was going. Everything changed at 18, when she was caught stealing from a woman named Asherah, First of the Daughters of Rán, a small but respected and even feared group of women sellswords. Often known by other names such as Sisters of the Sea or Witches of the Waves or simply the Sirens, the Daughters belonged to the clever and cunning sea-goddess Rán. The gifts she granted her Nine Daughters were not always extraordinary, but it was believed that the presence of a Daughter aboard a ship could well be the difference between a smooth voyage and a death at the hands of a passing leviathan or vicious storm. When Asherah unexpectedly took a liking to Mari, she felt the Goddess had guided them together. Rán's Daughters always numbered Nine, but recently one had passed, opening a place for Mari if she wanted it. Even knowing she'd be leaving her father on his own, not to mention making an enemy of Ihsan by betraying him, Mari accepted, and began two years of hard training with her new sisters, who protected her while she prepared to join their ranks. She learned slowly and with many mistakes, but learned all the same. The Daughters of Rán offered her a new way forward, one where she could be a better person, while still finding the adventure her heart desired. Now at the end of her training, Mari faces a rite of passage: venture into the Blackwood, alone, and make her way into the forgotten places with Rán's guidance, to find her hidden temple, a place supposedly only accessible to the Nine Daughters. There she will pray and accept the gifts the Goddess offers, seizing the power she feels she needs to fully make amends for her past. MotivationMari must find the Hidden Temple of Rán, hidden somewhere in the Blackwood, and complete her initiation into the Daughters of Rán. After that, she can follow where the waters take her, and sell her sword and skills to those she feels need it most. Witch of the Waves \| \| \| \| SkillsMari is a former thief attempting to remake herself as a proper warrior. Her abilities are spread thin between combat, knowledge, and underhanded skills. Combat [1/1]~Sword and Shield [1] ~Daggers [1] Intelligence [1/1]~Literacy [1] ~Religion [1] ~Geography [1] Charisma [1/1]~Diplomacy [2] Health [1/1]~Cold Resistance [1] Faculties [1/1]~Resolve [1] ~Perception [1] Agility [1/1]~Pick Pocket [1] ~Lockpick [1] ~Balance [1] ~Swimming [2] Mysticism [0/3] --- Equipment~One handed sword ~Wooden round shield ~Two small daggers ~Leather and partial plate armor ~Stitched hide and linen clothes ~Prayer bead necklaces with symbols of Rán Money~1 Royal ~18 Lordlings ~40 Commons Languages~Northern Tongue ~Grim Northern ~Bits and pieces of many other tongues \| \| \|</s> <\|message\|>Cillian Kindellan Cillian had risen to his feet as he spoke, and as the unusual pair turned to look at him, he took a tentative step closer to their table, the well-rehearsed smile never leaving his face. If nothing else, his introduction seemed to distract the pair from squabbling over the fat coin purse, and that was as good a start as any. The pause in bickering was only short-lived, and Cillian quickly got the impression that the elf and the gnome were old friends, arguing back and forth, each looking to gain the upper hand. Cillian's smile didn't falter, but behind the pale blue eyes, his mind was racing to keep up with the overlapping intricacies of the conversation. He had the distinct feeling that he was being played, the pair perhaps sniffing out the oppurtunity that a fumbling newcomer might present. He had names now at least, but even those set him ill at ease. The elf was Saskia, and the gnome Calvin, but it had been the gnome's reaction that had surprised Cillian. Was it simply being introduced as a sidekick that had taken him by surprise, or was it the name itself? Before Cillian could ponder too long on the thought, his mind caught up with his ears, and he realised that the pair were looking at him expectantly. Ever the showman, Cillian grinned widely again as he spread his arms wide. Perhaps the pair were looking to swindle him, or perhaps it was simply idle curiosity, but whatever the reason, they had agreed to be his audience, and Cillian had never been one to walk away from a willing audience. Taverns had been his stage countless times in the past, and despite the unfamiliarity of the city beyond the building's walls, the bard was in his element, the fire behind his eyes slowly flickering into a blaze as he spoke. "I have many tales to tell, if you only have the time, but it is a tale that I cannot yet tell that has brought me to this fair city. Ever since I was a boy, clinging to my mother's skirts, I was haunted by dreams of darkness. But this was not the darkness that plagues all children, the darkness of shadows and things that go bump in the night, this darkness was deep, and it called my name. It was only as I grew older, and heard the tales and legends of the world, that I learned the name of that darkness. The Blackwood. Ever since that day, the darkness has continued to call to me, and although my path has been long and winding, I always knew that it would eventually lead me here. The inky darkness waits on the other side of the raging waters, and I know that my fate lies within it. I am a man of legends and grand tales, and the Blackwood will grant me my greatest stories, I need only for someone to strike the first match. Friends, the two of you strike me as seasoned travellers, familiar with these parts. I wonder then, if your paths have ever led you beyond the water, and into the darkness beyond..." Cillian allowed himself to tail off, the sound of his own heart pounding in his ears, a single pale eyebrow raised towards the pair. He hoped that his hunch was correct, that the unusual pair would not be lingering in Greybridge without having travelled into the Blackwood, or at least know the tales of those that had. Perhaps this was a dead end, perhaps it would simply an oppurtunity to waste away some time, but Cillian could not shake the clinging sense that there was something else here, something more. Attempt to charm the unlikely pair, in hopes that it might loosen lips (Charm) = 3 + 1 = 4</s> <\|message\|>Name It did indeed have coin involved, she would soon find out. Any ring recaptured by them sold for twelve thousand silver lordlings, which equated to six hundred gold royals Orek was quick to point out. Any information on their whereabouts was also richly sought after. Were Mari to attempt to perceive, she might try and deduce who sought what from the rings. Of course, asking them was always an easy choice as well. The night did not last much longer, at least for most of the folk. The party died down soon after, and though the troupe stayed up into the night, darkness enshrouding their visages as they drank and spoke, even they began to grow weary. Phyrrae was the first to decide it was time to call it a night, though she decided it was even more prudent to go and order a few drinks for the journey in case they needed a little loosening up after a victory for celebration, so she now stood at the bar alone, awaiting the bartender to return from another duty. Orek and Kane stayed where they were, speaking in low murmurs in their ancient tongue. Pipe and dragon smoke wafted around them, and any who sat near them would feel a very ancient conversation and feel as one might when listening to a tale of old. Kane had devoured an entire chicken earlier, and Orek near matched him. The old Dwarf seemed to know far more than any in the place, and perhaps more than anyone Mari had ever met. There was something in his eyes that spoke of untapped experience along with not an insufficient amount of cleverness. Po had taken to speaking with Ithaca for a brief period on one of the newly vacated tables at the center of the room. However, Ithaca was one of the ones who needed to find sleep early. That left Po at the table, having found himself drawn into an old book with leather bindings, a dragon mark being the only noticeable aspect of the cover. Beside him was his walking staff and a jug of water he idly sipped. Before Ithaca had left for bed, she approached Mari and gave her a smile. She looked between her and the others. "I know we only just met, but I feel like you're the responsible one. Keep an eye on them." The warrior said. Placing a hand on Mari's shoulder, she clapped it powerfully. "Stay out of trouble too. If you're alive in two weeks, I'll buy you another drink." With that, Ithaca made her way up stairs to bed. The night grew darker as the outside lights were snuffed out, and now Mari saw three lights within the room. One at the table with Orek and Kane, another light above Po, and the third beside the lounging Phyrrae across the room. Would she go to any of them? Or go to sleep?</s>	<\|message\|>Mari It was the first pleasant night Mari felt she'd had since setting out on her own, and she couldn't help but hope this new little arrangement with this group worked out. Not indefinitely, of course, but she didn't imagine she'd find what she was after quickly, and it would help to have pleasant company while she struggled through the Blackwood. "If, huh?" she shot back at Ithaca with a raised eyebrow. "Count on it." She'd drank her way to a pleasant buzz and warmth, and knew it wouldn't be wise to have any more, especially with her first real venture into the woods the next day. Rather than immediately turn in, though, she cleared her throat and headed towards one of the tables. "Hey, Po?" She offered an apologetic smile for interrupting his reading, before she sank heavily onto one of the chairs. A hand lifted, fingers threading through red hair at the back of her neck, subconsciously pushing it over her half-pointed left ear. Old habit. "Ithaca mentioned earlier that you know a lot of the old lore here." She lifted a leg, bringing her knee up and resting her foot on the seat of her chair. "The reward for this sounds nice and all, but I don't think I can actually buy what I'm looking for here with gold." She lowered her hand from her neck and slipped her fingers beneath the holy symbols on the necklace tied around her belt. "I'm looking for a lost temple dedicated to Rán, the sea goddess. I'll become the youngest of her Daughters if I can find it, and survive whatever awaits me." She didn't actually know if there would be more trials inside the temple, or if finding the temple was itself the trial, but Mari had learned by now to prepare for the harder road. "Have you ever heard of something like that? A temple magically hidden, maybe even moving?"</s>
<\|description\|>Mari Marisaya Njalsdottir \|\| 20 \|\| Female Race Half-Elf (Silvari and Norgardian) Appearance Mari's undoubtedly a little small for a fighter, but moves with the grace and poise of someone who has had thorough training, if not a great deal of experience. She can easily pass for human even if her auburn red hair isn't covering her lightly pointed ears. Her eyes are a bright sea blue-green, and she typically gives off the look of someone still full of life and energy. She wears light armor, mostly embossed and studded leather that's probably more decorative than it is protective, with a minimum of cobbled-together plate. It's in Mari's interest to stay lightly geared, considering how often she finds herself on open water. Personality Mari is fierce, bold, and passionate, and a genuinely good woman at heart. She feels she has a great deal to make up for from her youth, and believes fully that the Daughters of Rán are her way to redemption. When working Mari is serious, focused, and efficient, and though at times self-doubt can slow her down, she has enough courage to forge ahead even when she suspects she might fail. Recently she has found meaning and purpose in helping others, and will gladly take up a worthy cause even at risk to her own safety or fortune. In quieter moments, Mari is fully capable of relaxing, unwinding, and sharing a drink and stories. She's not secretive about her past or her feelings, and finds that she connects with and empathizes easily with others. The Ninth Daughter of Rán --- Background~Aspiring Mercenary Priestess ~Lower Class, Criminal Background ~Daughter of a runaway Silvari noblewoman and a Norgardian smuggler HistoryMari has romantic origins, the result of a runaway Silvari girl fleeing an arranged marriage and a Norgardian smuggler that left his own homeland behind. She grew up in the Sea of Swords, and there the romance ended. Life as the daughter of a common smuggler was hardly easy, especially one like her father, who found himself in debt to powerful individuals. At twelve Mari found herself working to help pay off those debts, mostly to a criminal and pirate lord, an Izyrian named Ihsan. She worked for him and his crews, hopping islands and pickpocketing, thieving, spying, and eavesdropping. As she grew, she graduated to more direct assistance, and took some part in piracy and raids. It was all she knew at first, and Mari was talented and adventurous, albeit unsatisfied with the way her life was going. Everything changed at 18, when she was caught stealing from a woman named Asherah, First of the Daughters of Rán, a small but respected and even feared group of women sellswords. Often known by other names such as Sisters of the Sea or Witches of the Waves or simply the Sirens, the Daughters belonged to the clever and cunning sea-goddess Rán. The gifts she granted her Nine Daughters were not always extraordinary, but it was believed that the presence of a Daughter aboard a ship could well be the difference between a smooth voyage and a death at the hands of a passing leviathan or vicious storm. When Asherah unexpectedly took a liking to Mari, she felt the Goddess had guided them together. Rán's Daughters always numbered Nine, but recently one had passed, opening a place for Mari if she wanted it. Even knowing she'd be leaving her father on his own, not to mention making an enemy of Ihsan by betraying him, Mari accepted, and began two years of hard training with her new sisters, who protected her while she prepared to join their ranks. She learned slowly and with many mistakes, but learned all the same. The Daughters of Rán offered her a new way forward, one where she could be a better person, while still finding the adventure her heart desired. Now at the end of her training, Mari faces a rite of passage: venture into the Blackwood, alone, and make her way into the forgotten places with Rán's guidance, to find her hidden temple, a place supposedly only accessible to the Nine Daughters. There she will pray and accept the gifts the Goddess offers, seizing the power she feels she needs to fully make amends for her past. MotivationMari must find the Hidden Temple of Rán, hidden somewhere in the Blackwood, and complete her initiation into the Daughters of Rán. After that, she can follow where the waters take her, and sell her sword and skills to those she feels need it most. Witch of the Waves \| \| \| \| SkillsMari is a former thief attempting to remake herself as a proper warrior. Her abilities are spread thin between combat, knowledge, and underhanded skills. Combat [1/1]~Sword and Shield [1] ~Daggers [1] Intelligence [1/1]~Literacy [1] ~Religion [1] ~Geography [1] Charisma [1/1]~Diplomacy [2] Health [1/1]~Cold Resistance [1] Faculties [1/1]~Resolve [1] ~Perception [1] Agility [1/1]~Pick Pocket [1] ~Lockpick [1] ~Balance [1] ~Swimming [2] Mysticism [0/3] --- Equipment~One handed sword ~Wooden round shield ~Two small daggers ~Leather and partial plate armor ~Stitched hide and linen clothes ~Prayer bead necklaces with symbols of Rán Money~1 Royal ~18 Lordlings ~40 Commons Languages~Northern Tongue ~Grim Northern ~Bits and pieces of many other tongues \| \| \|</s> <\|message\|>Dyla Roots Dyla frowned. The Blackwood had not been as fun as in her daydreams. She didn't think it would be easy, but her imaginings had always been about fighting monsters, or unearthing lost treasure. Instead, the big problem of the Blackwood had been finding stuff to eat. She missed pumpkin pie. She was hoping the inn would be a welcome change, and now the first lady they met was telling them there was no room! But an inn was the place where she could find leads on treasure. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more Dyla was certain her entire adventure depended on getting into that inn. Or maybe she just didn't want to sleep in a barn. Charm: 6 (3+3) "Are you sure there's no room in the inn?" Dyla looked up at the pretty woman with the broom. "I don't take up much space, you know." Remembering Arden, and feeling a bit foolish, she added: "My bigger friend might, but he won't be any trouble. He's gentle. And," smirking now, "I'd bet he'd buy a lot of the ale!" She wasn't even sure how true that was, but if she was lying, isn't it for a good cause?</s> <\|message\|>Name The dim lighting gave the room a feel of 'winding down' to some, but Po seemed alert, if not relaxed. He was evidently very consumed by the book he read. That was, until Mari settled down at his table. He blinked and looked up when she smiled. He gave a bright smile back to showcase he wasn't annoyed at her wanting to speak to him. He put a bookmark in the leather bound tome and set it aside before regarding her. "Hey, it's no problem. We're going to be traveling together so it's probably good we talk a bit." he replied. He crossed his toned arms on the table, leaning on them. In the lighting, the caramel of his skin seemed an even deeper hue. The young man looked at the table, deep in thought as he considered her question. "A sister of Rán?" He echoed to himself, and then his dark eyes turned to meet hers. "You're one of them? Er, um looking to be?" He scratched the back of his head, ruffling his thick head of black hair. "I've never heard of a temple moving..." Po knew the ins and outs of most of this quadrant of the Blackwood, though that was a lot to retain in his mind, particularly considering how late it was. It took him a moment to next speak until his eyes brightened. "Wait, yes. Not a moving temple, but I do remember there being a rumor of a water temple with some sort of religious significance fairly close, actually. It's uh-" He turned around, opening up his knapsack. After ruffling around it a moment, he pulled out a sheet of paper and a quill. He dipped it in some ink, eyes glancing her way. "Sorry," He chuckled breathlessly. "I'm not very good at explaining things after I've had a few. It's when I've had more than a few that I start rambling. Here..." For a commoner, he had very smooth strokes of the hand, making what she would find out was a map in a lavish style of sweeping black ink. Po took only a brief minute with his map, and though it was basic it was certainly better than nothing. On second glance, it attributed a lot of various obstacles and pathways before her. He moved his chair closer to hers, setting down and sliding the map between. "Ok so...we're here...and we'll be moving north..." His finger traced over a path that broke through what was a heavily wooded area, passed a bog and astride a few smaller mountains to what looked to be riverlands. "The last I heard of any water temple, it was actually pretty close to where I think we're going. Orek knows the path far better than me, but he probably can't help with your temple. I'm pretty sure it's supposed to be northeast of where the fabled rings are." He turned and looked at her to gauge if she found his advice helpful. "I also hear the doors to the place are locked by some spell, but who knows what's really going on there? Maybe you'll find something to help you where we're headed?"</s> <\|message\|>Name The tavern halted. The low music and the clinking of glass were the only sounds that graced the room after Cillian had spoken. It seemed his story and way with words left the room in rapt-fascination, and to anyone it would have been comical to look at the two patrons that he was speaking to. Calvin had wide eyes, looking to and fro between Cillian and Saskia to see what his companion thought. For her part, Saskia looked equal parts impressed, dumbfounded, and a little weirded out. "Um..." She began. "No, not me." Calvin said, waving his hands and shaking his head. "I'm just a city boy." "I've been there." Saskia nodded, clearing her throat. "Not for very long, but I've had to travel through there once with a caravan. Ran into a few beasts that I'd rather not run into again. Were you wanting to know what lies west of here? I could regaile you myself but..." She raised an eyebrow, a hand with tantilizing fingers curling toward's Cillian. "my memory is a little fuzzy...maybe a silver Lordling could listen my lips?" "Two silver lordlings?" Calvin piped in with a wink. Saskia elbowed him gently, but not too gently. She glared at him. "I have the information, I'm the one getting a lordling. He's a smart man, yes?" Her last sentence had her looking back at him, lips curved into a smile. "Information is my trade. I may lie, but never when I do business." Charm roll from Saskia: 4+2=6. You can contest and roll willpower if you so choose. Or you can trust her.</s> <\|message\|>Torsten Meier The sunlight cut through the forest like a razor sharp sword pierces one's torso. The pain in Torsten's side had improved. It wasn't as bad as he anticipated, but he'd been injured before and the pain was tolerable. He knew he was lucky to be alive and knew he needed to keep moving. He figured he would be healed in a day or two; hopefully. Breakfast was decent. Oz caught some rabbit and the three sucked on the juicy bits. Torsten inhaled his portion as he was quite famished. Lord knows he needed the protein in the meat. After sterilizing the campsite as best they could, they ventured further to the south in order to continue their trek into the unknown. Conversation was light, about nothing in particular. They focused more on the sights and sounds of the forest around them. Their hunter's ears were tuned in and didn't want to be surprised. Torsten took the trail slot in the column as Oz, the largest took center. He allows the lighter Ulf Gunnerson or Wolf to take the point. Wolf was an agile hunter, quick on his feet. He would be able to evade an attack faster than the others. Torsten removed his bow, notched an arrow and prepared for whatever might present itself upon the trail ahead. It didn't take long for a situation to appear. A scream of sorts erupted in their ears. All three men prepared for a battle, not knowing what was coming. It just didn't sound like the orcs they dealt with the day prior. Oz removed the 5' 6" two-handed sword from its scabbard and held it at the ready on his right side. He was prepared to bring pain upon any foe who threatened him. Wolf removed his shield from his back, securing it to his left arm and a small sword in his right. He held the left side of the trail. Between the two and three steps to the rear was Torsten with his bow up and read to draw. The odd fellow stumbling over the undergrowth in front of them was more bulbous than sinewy. All three men breathed a sigh of relief realizing they would not have to kill this one. The man was in a panic paying more attention to the auburn-haired young woman chasing him. Her hair was cut short, more like a man, than a woman, Oz thought. Torsten found her mildly attractive and Wolf wondered how quickly he could dispatch both to the underworld. "Stop!" Torsten yelled at the pair, who seemingly halted all movement, freezing in their steps looking up at the trio of northerners who barred their path. "What are you doing here?!"</s>	<\|message\|>Mari In truth, Mari was a little taken aback by how much Po seemed to know. She hadn't expected to learn anything useful when she asked, and now that she had a crude map drawn up for her, she still didn't quite believe it. It couldn't be that easy, right? It had to be the wrong temple, or it had to be more difficult to find than it seemed. Only one way to find out, of course. "Maybe," she answered, putting a finger on the map and sliding it closer to her. Her eyes didn't leave it, studying the bits Po added to it one by one. "Just more to look forward to tomorrow, I guess." She was certain her excitement was slipping through. At this point even a fight didn't sound too bad, if it meant she might learn something about her goal. "Okay," she said, nodding and taking the map, folding it up neatly. "I should probably get some rest, then. Long day ahead of us tomorrow." She slid her chair back and got to her feet. "Thank you, Po. And good night." She turned to head to her room and made it one step before she turned back. "Oh, and it's... Daughter of Rán. Not sister. We're just sisters to each other. Um." She paused, and then nodded again. "Good night!" Reddening a little, she turned and headed off towards her room, intent on sleeping off the ale before she had to go adventuring.</s>
<\|description\|>Mari Marisaya Njalsdottir \|\| 20 \|\| Female Race Half-Elf (Silvari and Norgardian) Appearance Mari's undoubtedly a little small for a fighter, but moves with the grace and poise of someone who has had thorough training, if not a great deal of experience. She can easily pass for human even if her auburn red hair isn't covering her lightly pointed ears. Her eyes are a bright sea blue-green, and she typically gives off the look of someone still full of life and energy. She wears light armor, mostly embossed and studded leather that's probably more decorative than it is protective, with a minimum of cobbled-together plate. It's in Mari's interest to stay lightly geared, considering how often she finds herself on open water. Personality Mari is fierce, bold, and passionate, and a genuinely good woman at heart. She feels she has a great deal to make up for from her youth, and believes fully that the Daughters of Rán are her way to redemption. When working Mari is serious, focused, and efficient, and though at times self-doubt can slow her down, she has enough courage to forge ahead even when she suspects she might fail. Recently she has found meaning and purpose in helping others, and will gladly take up a worthy cause even at risk to her own safety or fortune. In quieter moments, Mari is fully capable of relaxing, unwinding, and sharing a drink and stories. She's not secretive about her past or her feelings, and finds that she connects with and empathizes easily with others. The Ninth Daughter of Rán --- Background~Aspiring Mercenary Priestess ~Lower Class, Criminal Background ~Daughter of a runaway Silvari noblewoman and a Norgardian smuggler HistoryMari has romantic origins, the result of a runaway Silvari girl fleeing an arranged marriage and a Norgardian smuggler that left his own homeland behind. She grew up in the Sea of Swords, and there the romance ended. Life as the daughter of a common smuggler was hardly easy, especially one like her father, who found himself in debt to powerful individuals. At twelve Mari found herself working to help pay off those debts, mostly to a criminal and pirate lord, an Izyrian named Ihsan. She worked for him and his crews, hopping islands and pickpocketing, thieving, spying, and eavesdropping. As she grew, she graduated to more direct assistance, and took some part in piracy and raids. It was all she knew at first, and Mari was talented and adventurous, albeit unsatisfied with the way her life was going. Everything changed at 18, when she was caught stealing from a woman named Asherah, First of the Daughters of Rán, a small but respected and even feared group of women sellswords. Often known by other names such as Sisters of the Sea or Witches of the Waves or simply the Sirens, the Daughters belonged to the clever and cunning sea-goddess Rán. The gifts she granted her Nine Daughters were not always extraordinary, but it was believed that the presence of a Daughter aboard a ship could well be the difference between a smooth voyage and a death at the hands of a passing leviathan or vicious storm. When Asherah unexpectedly took a liking to Mari, she felt the Goddess had guided them together. Rán's Daughters always numbered Nine, but recently one had passed, opening a place for Mari if she wanted it. Even knowing she'd be leaving her father on his own, not to mention making an enemy of Ihsan by betraying him, Mari accepted, and began two years of hard training with her new sisters, who protected her while she prepared to join their ranks. She learned slowly and with many mistakes, but learned all the same. The Daughters of Rán offered her a new way forward, one where she could be a better person, while still finding the adventure her heart desired. Now at the end of her training, Mari faces a rite of passage: venture into the Blackwood, alone, and make her way into the forgotten places with Rán's guidance, to find her hidden temple, a place supposedly only accessible to the Nine Daughters. There she will pray and accept the gifts the Goddess offers, seizing the power she feels she needs to fully make amends for her past. MotivationMari must find the Hidden Temple of Rán, hidden somewhere in the Blackwood, and complete her initiation into the Daughters of Rán. After that, she can follow where the waters take her, and sell her sword and skills to those she feels need it most. Witch of the Waves \| \| \| \| SkillsMari is a former thief attempting to remake herself as a proper warrior. Her abilities are spread thin between combat, knowledge, and underhanded skills. Combat [1/1]~Sword and Shield [1] ~Daggers [1] Intelligence [1/1]~Literacy [1] ~Religion [1] ~Geography [1] Charisma [1/1]~Diplomacy [2] Health [1/1]~Cold Resistance [1] Faculties [1/1]~Resolve [1] ~Perception [1] Agility [1/1]~Pick Pocket [1] ~Lockpick [1] ~Balance [1] ~Swimming [2] Mysticism [0/3] --- Equipment~One handed sword ~Wooden round shield ~Two small daggers ~Leather and partial plate armor ~Stitched hide and linen clothes ~Prayer bead necklaces with symbols of Rán Money~1 Royal ~18 Lordlings ~40 Commons Languages~Northern Tongue ~Grim Northern ~Bits and pieces of many other tongues \| \| \|</s> <\|message\|>Arden Arden slowly turned his head leftways and downwards towards Dyla, modifying his facial expression in a rather desperate attempt to just tell her: 'Don't try again!'. The female tavern owner clearly had a point about logic, but in the Skayleigh's opinion she lacked that bit of friendliness that would've been greatly welcomed. They had merely asked, hadn't they ? There was plenty of reason to give that woman a snappy reply, maybe something along the lines of 'I'll reconsider my need for ale these days...' just to give her a not so subtle hint, but all in all being on bad terms with the individual owning the place one intended to sleep at could only be a very bad thing. There were priorities. All of these internal considerations were shattered though when Horace appeared. As the big man dumped a large portion of hot water onto the street Arden merely wondered whether he was Valarie's husband and why he had committed to such a significant waste of warmth, but then he started talking about there actually being an empty room left. The Skayleigh was certain it would prove to be like oil being poured into the fire that was his companion's tongue! And, if he was honest, now he was much more eager to join Dyla's efforts. He'd just take... a bit of a different approach to it. It was a decision that felt particularly good now that Valarie started to treat them like a bunch of annoying toddlers ruining her garden. The sound of cloth and leather rubbing against each other and giving way to bulging muscle beneath it could be heard as Arden crossed his arms in front of his chest. He looked at Valarie, then at the door Horace had taken to get back inside, then back towards her again. Each time his level of skepticism seemed to rise. "So here we have what looks like a couple of tavern owners: One prefers not renting unused rooms to guests and the other apparently has one hell of an attitude against bards. You know what that sounds like to me ?" Arden leaned forward, trying to get his staring eyes closer to her face as he moved his hands onto the desk in order to support his upper body. Things smelled badly here, and inside his mind the suspicion of Valarie and her husband having something against them for some very stupid and generic reason arose quickly. For the moment however Arden did his best to hold it back and decided to try and challenge her with something else first. "Contradictory! So...didn't we just have a lecture about logic from you ? How about the next one ?" After all, if the room had simply already been booked by some other individual who'd come in later she just could have told that instead of making a myth about it. Intimidation attempt: rolled a 5.</s> <\|message\|>Name The next day... It was an hour after sun up, and the entrepreneurial town filled with hard working men and women had already begun their work-days. As it was a frontier settlement for travelers, protection, and supplies, there was a lack of poultry and small time farming, so what woke Mari up would be the sun peeking through her windows and the distant calls of merchants rather than the sound of any rooster crowing. If or when she made it outside, at first she would see no one in her group. But thanks to the rising son and her sharp eyes, she would recognize Kane if no one else in the distance, speaking to a man on horseback by the northern gate before the man trotted away, deeper into the forest. If she drew closer, she would notice the party waiting patiently. In fact they seemed at ease, as if waiting for more than her. It became evident that Po wasn't there just yet. As it were, Orek and Phyrrae had taken a seat on the very last porch before the gate, right before a store that seemed to be selling small items of pottery and knickknacks for good luck or ornamentation. They were playing a strategy game on a small wooden board, called 'Thrones and Conquerors.' It was a war game with a heavy emphasis on calculating your opponent's next move. As Kane approached the group from what he had been speaking to the rider of, Orek heard his footsteps and looked up to notice Mari too. "Mornin'" He called, not noticing Phyrrae changed a small piece on the board which Mari could point out if she so wished. Phyrrae had very quick hands, evidently. "Taking the north road through the Murkrift would be best." Kane rumbled. In the sunlight, Kane looked even more formidable than the night previous. It was something else seeing one of another race, but one of such muscled bulk and bestial features as a Drogotar was still intimidating. "That's..." Orek began, blinking at the board and then eyeing Phyrrae. "That's not right... er, Kane you do know what lurks there, eh?" "I've heard Orcs have mobilized in the northern forest. Something calls them." He said. "What lives in Murkrift sleeps." A voice declared behind Mari, revealed to be Po along with another fellow, mustachioed and apparently wielding a rapier, sheathed at his hip. They both walked by her and stand beside the others. Po gave Mari a smile, before speaking to the group as a whole. "With luck we can get through it. But that still leaves the problem of the water being acidic." The other fellow openly appraised Mari with a raised eyebrow, taking her hand and kissing it if she let him/was too surprised to pull away. He spoke Vrettonian, and clearly the entire party was unamused. Orek looking to the sky as if begging the gods to smite him while Po looked blankly ahead, as if embarrassed he even brought the fellow this morning. "No one told me such a beauty would be going on this trek." He remarked, heavily accented in his speech. Po tapped him on the shoulder and interrupted him. "Why don't you talk business with Orek, Sinclair." Po said, and when he saw the look Po gave him, the man did, complaining under his breath in the foreign language.</s>	<\|message\|>Mari Mari came to with the sun and the sounds of the waking town, slipping out of bed with an alertness and energy she hadn't felt for the last few days. Something about the potential of the day to come, no doubt. She put herself together with haste; there was no time (or point) to a bath, but she was sure to at least wash her face and attempt to tame her mess of auburn hair. Getting all of her armor and gear on wasn't a swift process, but she'd done it enough by now to do so without thinking, finishing by fastening her heavy sword belt, laden with weapons and pouches and holy symbols, around her waist. Slinging her wooden shield over her shoulder, Mari made her way out of the room and collected a quick breakfast. She didn't have much of an appetite, but made sure to at least get something in her belly for the long road ahead. She headed for the northern gate to meet up with the others, noticing Kane first, and the dwarf and elf second playing their game off to the side. Mari had played before with her sisters, enough to recognize the underhanded move Phyrrae pulled when Orek greeted her. "Good morning!" was all she said back to the pair of them. The Murkrift Kane spoke of as their road, a place in the forest not teeming with Orcs, but perhaps something else that they seemed hesitant to speak of. Po seemed to believe it would be manageable when he arrived with the other fellow, Sinclair, and that was enough for Mari. She didn't wrench her hand away when he grabbed and kissed it, though she also didn't hide her eyeroll. Vrettonian by his accent, and somehow Mari wasn't surprised. When he released her hand, she let it rest casually on the hilt of her blade, but Po interrupted before she could pick a response, sending Sinclair to speak more with the dwarf. "Thanks for that," she said under breath. "This Murkrift, you said the water's acidic? Something dwells within it even still?" Orcs she figured she could handle with her sword, but acidic water and unknown things sleeping within wasn't something she knew how to approach. Not yet, anyway.</s>
<\|description\|>Mari Marisaya Njalsdottir \|\| 20 \|\| Female Race Half-Elf (Silvari and Norgardian) Appearance Mari's undoubtedly a little small for a fighter, but moves with the grace and poise of someone who has had thorough training, if not a great deal of experience. She can easily pass for human even if her auburn red hair isn't covering her lightly pointed ears. Her eyes are a bright sea blue-green, and she typically gives off the look of someone still full of life and energy. She wears light armor, mostly embossed and studded leather that's probably more decorative than it is protective, with a minimum of cobbled-together plate. It's in Mari's interest to stay lightly geared, considering how often she finds herself on open water. Personality Mari is fierce, bold, and passionate, and a genuinely good woman at heart. She feels she has a great deal to make up for from her youth, and believes fully that the Daughters of Rán are her way to redemption. When working Mari is serious, focused, and efficient, and though at times self-doubt can slow her down, she has enough courage to forge ahead even when she suspects she might fail. Recently she has found meaning and purpose in helping others, and will gladly take up a worthy cause even at risk to her own safety or fortune. In quieter moments, Mari is fully capable of relaxing, unwinding, and sharing a drink and stories. She's not secretive about her past or her feelings, and finds that she connects with and empathizes easily with others. The Ninth Daughter of Rán --- Background~Aspiring Mercenary Priestess ~Lower Class, Criminal Background ~Daughter of a runaway Silvari noblewoman and a Norgardian smuggler HistoryMari has romantic origins, the result of a runaway Silvari girl fleeing an arranged marriage and a Norgardian smuggler that left his own homeland behind. She grew up in the Sea of Swords, and there the romance ended. Life as the daughter of a common smuggler was hardly easy, especially one like her father, who found himself in debt to powerful individuals. At twelve Mari found herself working to help pay off those debts, mostly to a criminal and pirate lord, an Izyrian named Ihsan. She worked for him and his crews, hopping islands and pickpocketing, thieving, spying, and eavesdropping. As she grew, she graduated to more direct assistance, and took some part in piracy and raids. It was all she knew at first, and Mari was talented and adventurous, albeit unsatisfied with the way her life was going. Everything changed at 18, when she was caught stealing from a woman named Asherah, First of the Daughters of Rán, a small but respected and even feared group of women sellswords. Often known by other names such as Sisters of the Sea or Witches of the Waves or simply the Sirens, the Daughters belonged to the clever and cunning sea-goddess Rán. The gifts she granted her Nine Daughters were not always extraordinary, but it was believed that the presence of a Daughter aboard a ship could well be the difference between a smooth voyage and a death at the hands of a passing leviathan or vicious storm. When Asherah unexpectedly took a liking to Mari, she felt the Goddess had guided them together. Rán's Daughters always numbered Nine, but recently one had passed, opening a place for Mari if she wanted it. Even knowing she'd be leaving her father on his own, not to mention making an enemy of Ihsan by betraying him, Mari accepted, and began two years of hard training with her new sisters, who protected her while she prepared to join their ranks. She learned slowly and with many mistakes, but learned all the same. The Daughters of Rán offered her a new way forward, one where she could be a better person, while still finding the adventure her heart desired. Now at the end of her training, Mari faces a rite of passage: venture into the Blackwood, alone, and make her way into the forgotten places with Rán's guidance, to find her hidden temple, a place supposedly only accessible to the Nine Daughters. There she will pray and accept the gifts the Goddess offers, seizing the power she feels she needs to fully make amends for her past. MotivationMari must find the Hidden Temple of Rán, hidden somewhere in the Blackwood, and complete her initiation into the Daughters of Rán. After that, she can follow where the waters take her, and sell her sword and skills to those she feels need it most. Witch of the Waves \| \| \| \| SkillsMari is a former thief attempting to remake herself as a proper warrior. Her abilities are spread thin between combat, knowledge, and underhanded skills. Combat [1/1]~Sword and Shield [1] ~Daggers [1] Intelligence [1/1]~Literacy [1] ~Religion [1] ~Geography [1] Charisma [1/1]~Diplomacy [2] Health [1/1]~Cold Resistance [1] Faculties [1/1]~Resolve [1] ~Perception [1] Agility [1/1]~Pick Pocket [1] ~Lockpick [1] ~Balance [1] ~Swimming [2] Mysticism [0/3] --- Equipment~One handed sword ~Wooden round shield ~Two small daggers ~Leather and partial plate armor ~Stitched hide and linen clothes ~Prayer bead necklaces with symbols of Rán Money~1 Royal ~18 Lordlings ~40 Commons Languages~Northern Tongue ~Grim Northern ~Bits and pieces of many other tongues \| \| \|</s> <\|message\|>Name Saskia plucked the coin from his hand, a small 'ping' echoing when the metal touched one the undersides of her rings. She looked as pleased as any money grubber when presented with money, though it was plain to see that Cillian's tale had softened her mood and endeared her a bit. Calvin took a large swig of his ale while Saskia scooted over and let Cillian sit there beside her. The Elf placed the coins in her coinpurse and then cupped her hands around her flagon, taking a swig herself. "The Blackwood, yes. I assume you'd want to hear about the local woods, right?" "The dangers?" Calvin piped in, trying to be helpful. It was evident he also wanted to hear, like a child hearing a ghost story for the thrill and entertainment. "Of course." Saskia laughed lightly. "Keep in mind I don't know every terror you might face, but my information is reliable. The local woods aren't too dangerous. Maybe a Varghulf pack here or there, or a chimera looking to feast. Or bandits, of course." The prospects were but a muse to her as she considered. "Now, if you are to travel northwards, you'll find the Blackwood Baronies. Petty lords fighting for territory over Gorthaur the Wraithking's shattered lands. Some say the Wraithking, or at least some of his minions, still reside there. To the east, wretched bogs and dense forests of fey spirits. If you're lucky you'll run into a Centaur or an Elf, though they are not of my kin and will shoot you if you haven't a good reason to be there. Even for me, it is hard to determine what they would want. I do hear some of the forest gods demand a sacrifice." "Heard some nastiness, I have." Calvin said. "Some people get taken by them and are never seen again." Saskia shrugged. "Couldn't say what happens to them. Maybe they're taken to the broken realm of the fey? Either way, your biggest worry is southwards. I hear a large horde of Orcs is passing through the southern Blackwood, and there have been rumors of demon cults in some of the fortified towns. Not to mention the Dragon..." The Elf took a huge swig of her drink, and clapped it back onto the table as any hard man would. "The roads are difficult eastward. The north is likely the safest in terms of travel, but in staying? Not too sure. Hope this helped." LEVEL UP You gain 2 skill points to spend them where you like! --- "No problem." Po said to her easily, one hand on his staff, though he looked a bit embarrassed a moment later. "Sorry, I didn't invite him, but he did save my life before and insisted on coming." As for her question, he seemed to sober up a bit. "A Dragon. Maybe. Not the one that Ithaca said you saw, but another one, we think. No one really knows for sure, but people have gone through the Murkrift before and lived. We might need to if the Orcs aren't gone within a day. For now I think we'll just move north until we can be sure." Behind them both, Orek fished into his pocket and paid Phyrrae a small price of coins for her victory over him in their board game. To make the Dwarf's mood even more sour, Sinclair made it to him and gave a bow. "Monsieur Dwarf, I am ready for adventure." He proclaimed, politely inclining his head to the Dwarf, hand on the hilt of his admittedly beautiful sword. His accent was as thick as ever and hard to make out. "I am packed and have food for two days travel. When is the next city we will make berth at?" "Three days." Orek said, sardonically cheerful. He picked himself up off his seat on the porch and smiled to the man. Kane had already made it to the foot of the gate, standing there like a primordial guardian. Sinclair's face turned comically distraught. "Assuming it hasn't been razed to the ground by Orcs, and that's also assuming we don't go through the Murkrift bog, which we probably will. Anymore questions or can we begin our trek?" "Erh..." Sinclair seemed at a loss for words. "We'll discuss it when we make camp tonight." Po piped in, having stepped forward beside them. His easy going smile defused the sternness of the conversation in a fashion. "Don't worry Sinclair, I've plenty of food to share. Plus everything in the Blackwood is huge. Whatever food is in there, it'll fill us up." "Provided it's not poisonous" Phyrrae said, striding past Sinclair who glanced at her the way an unwanted man often did. Her scowl had him looking away, however. Phyrrae made her way beside Mari, a strange star-headed scepter in the elven woman's hand. As the group made it to the gate, Kane let out a burst of flame from his mouth, halting all conversation for the moment. It was akin to a bonfire being shot out of the mouth of a small crocodile. "Let us embark!" He announced. LEVEL UP You gain 2 skill points to spend them where you like!</s> <\|message\|>Torsten Meier The young woman chasing the fattened weasely older man came to a halt while the other lay sprawled across the ground. He looked up at Torsten and his friends as he slowly regained his footing. The man could not decide whether his pursuer was a werewolf or a witch, rendering Torsten to believe she wasn't either. She simply had the upper hand and he was looking for a way out. Torsten would not accommodate him. "No one likes a cheat, you fat oaf," Torsten decided to side with the witch, if she was one. He honestly believed she was simply smarter than the dumb fat man who allowed a woman to get the better of him in a card game. Some people will blame things out of their control on magic or just plain bad luck. Torsten decided this was one of those situations. "Ma'am, have you reclaimed your possessions?" Torsten asked the young woman lowering his bow. "Sir, I recommend you return to where you come from and pursue a more honest means of acquiring wealth. I look down on common thieves such as you. Now get out of here." Torsten looked at Ulf and Njal. He made a gesture as though they should lower their weapons and relax.</s>	<\|message\|>Mari Mari gains... +1 Perception +1 Diplomacy A dragon. Brilliant. Mari would take her chances against orcs over facing a dragon dwelling in an acidic swamp, but if indeed it slumbered, perhaps it was the best bet. Three days' travel or more sounded like an ordeal, but Mari had the suspicion that any travel in these woods was risky to begin with. She had enough rations for herself, and could stretch them if need be. Probably wise to do so regardless, in case matters on their route got complicated. It was a diverse and interesting group of adventurers she'd manage to attach herself to, and Mari doubted that feeling of being the "new girl" would go away any time soon. They all seemed to know each other and have experience working together, to some degree. She walked alongside Phyrrae as they set out, quiet at first, keeping an eye on her surroundings and a hand always near her blade's hilt. The woods were calm in the morning, beautiful even, and she made a point to enjoy it while she had the chance. "You've a quick hand," she said quietly to the elven woman. "Not the first time you've won coin from Orek at that game, I'm guessing."</s>
<\|description\|>Mari Marisaya Njalsdottir \|\| 20 \|\| Female Race Half-Elf (Silvari and Norgardian) Appearance Mari's undoubtedly a little small for a fighter, but moves with the grace and poise of someone who has had thorough training, if not a great deal of experience. She can easily pass for human even if her auburn red hair isn't covering her lightly pointed ears. Her eyes are a bright sea blue-green, and she typically gives off the look of someone still full of life and energy. She wears light armor, mostly embossed and studded leather that's probably more decorative than it is protective, with a minimum of cobbled-together plate. It's in Mari's interest to stay lightly geared, considering how often she finds herself on open water. Personality Mari is fierce, bold, and passionate, and a genuinely good woman at heart. She feels she has a great deal to make up for from her youth, and believes fully that the Daughters of Rán are her way to redemption. When working Mari is serious, focused, and efficient, and though at times self-doubt can slow her down, she has enough courage to forge ahead even when she suspects she might fail. Recently she has found meaning and purpose in helping others, and will gladly take up a worthy cause even at risk to her own safety or fortune. In quieter moments, Mari is fully capable of relaxing, unwinding, and sharing a drink and stories. She's not secretive about her past or her feelings, and finds that she connects with and empathizes easily with others. The Ninth Daughter of Rán --- Background~Aspiring Mercenary Priestess ~Lower Class, Criminal Background ~Daughter of a runaway Silvari noblewoman and a Norgardian smuggler HistoryMari has romantic origins, the result of a runaway Silvari girl fleeing an arranged marriage and a Norgardian smuggler that left his own homeland behind. She grew up in the Sea of Swords, and there the romance ended. Life as the daughter of a common smuggler was hardly easy, especially one like her father, who found himself in debt to powerful individuals. At twelve Mari found herself working to help pay off those debts, mostly to a criminal and pirate lord, an Izyrian named Ihsan. She worked for him and his crews, hopping islands and pickpocketing, thieving, spying, and eavesdropping. As she grew, she graduated to more direct assistance, and took some part in piracy and raids. It was all she knew at first, and Mari was talented and adventurous, albeit unsatisfied with the way her life was going. Everything changed at 18, when she was caught stealing from a woman named Asherah, First of the Daughters of Rán, a small but respected and even feared group of women sellswords. Often known by other names such as Sisters of the Sea or Witches of the Waves or simply the Sirens, the Daughters belonged to the clever and cunning sea-goddess Rán. The gifts she granted her Nine Daughters were not always extraordinary, but it was believed that the presence of a Daughter aboard a ship could well be the difference between a smooth voyage and a death at the hands of a passing leviathan or vicious storm. When Asherah unexpectedly took a liking to Mari, she felt the Goddess had guided them together. Rán's Daughters always numbered Nine, but recently one had passed, opening a place for Mari if she wanted it. Even knowing she'd be leaving her father on his own, not to mention making an enemy of Ihsan by betraying him, Mari accepted, and began two years of hard training with her new sisters, who protected her while she prepared to join their ranks. She learned slowly and with many mistakes, but learned all the same. The Daughters of Rán offered her a new way forward, one where she could be a better person, while still finding the adventure her heart desired. Now at the end of her training, Mari faces a rite of passage: venture into the Blackwood, alone, and make her way into the forgotten places with Rán's guidance, to find her hidden temple, a place supposedly only accessible to the Nine Daughters. There she will pray and accept the gifts the Goddess offers, seizing the power she feels she needs to fully make amends for her past. MotivationMari must find the Hidden Temple of Rán, hidden somewhere in the Blackwood, and complete her initiation into the Daughters of Rán. After that, she can follow where the waters take her, and sell her sword and skills to those she feels need it most. Witch of the Waves \| \| \| \| SkillsMari is a former thief attempting to remake herself as a proper warrior. Her abilities are spread thin between combat, knowledge, and underhanded skills. Combat [1/1]~Sword and Shield [1] ~Daggers [1] Intelligence [1/1]~Literacy [1] ~Religion [1] ~Geography [1] Charisma [1/1]~Diplomacy [2] Health [1/1]~Cold Resistance [1] Faculties [1/1]~Resolve [1] ~Perception [1] Agility [1/1]~Pick Pocket [1] ~Lockpick [1] ~Balance [1] ~Swimming [2] Mysticism [0/3] --- Equipment~One handed sword ~Wooden round shield ~Two small daggers ~Leather and partial plate armor ~Stitched hide and linen clothes ~Prayer bead necklaces with symbols of Rán Money~1 Royal ~18 Lordlings ~40 Commons Languages~Northern Tongue ~Grim Northern ~Bits and pieces of many other tongues \| \| \|</s> <\|message\|>Torsten Meier "I am Alanya, daughter of Burgrave Rochestor. If you're going to Oakhollow, I'll follow. Otherwise this seems to be hello and goodbye." Torsten shook the woman's hand as did his compatriots in turn. "My name is Torsten Meier. Most folks just call me Torsten." As she shook her friend's hands, he introduced them to her. "This is Ulf Gunnerson, otherwise known as Wolf." Wolf was a small wiry man about five and a half feet tall. Although his brown hair was starting to gray already, the man was only thirty three summers in age. His Fu Manchu mustache and beard were peppered with a few gray hairs as well. Wolf simply nodded towards Alanya. He didn't know what to say. The second friend stood 6' 4" tall, with rippling muscles bulging over his arms, legs and chest. He was a very impressive man to look at; handsome to boot. One wout noticed his bleached blonde hair, with his beard in a tight braid dangling off his chin and ending below the top edge of his hauberk. "This jötunn is Njal Osborne or Oz." "Nice to make your acquaintance, ma'am," Oz stammered out. "We'll travel with you to Oakhollow," Torsten responded. Then he looked at Njal. "Oz, would you mind carrying the fat little man?" "Not a problem, Tors." Njal tossed the unconscious man over a shoulder like he was a sack of onions. It was no difficulty for the man to carry the smaller man than it would for a horse to carry anyone. "We are all from Norgard. We have been travelling for several weeks to get here. I guess you could see we are on something of a wanderlust; adventure seekers." Torsten was concerned that maybe he said too much already. Not everyone has nice thoughts about Norgardian. "So who exactly is your father? I have never heard of Burgrave Rochestor." Torsten would engage the woman in small talk as they headed through the forest in the direction of the settlement.</s> <\|message\|>Name Phyrrae sniffed at the comment, but with Mari's quick eyes she did see a small, self satisfied smile on the elf maiden's face. "I'm not sure what you're talking about." She replied, though the woman did keep her voice down all the same. "If I were to do something like that, he'd never play a game with me again." With that, Phyrrae drifted into herself as the group trekked deeper into the murky forest. Orek took the lead, at least in spirit. Po was often at the fore, his staff bumping against the ground with every two steps, though he often slowed down to make sure everyone was safe and in line. Even on the road, the forest seemed to reach out and cling to you. Phyrrae eyed the forest with suspicion, and whilst Kane didn't seem to be afraid of anything, it was clear he was alert the way he moved. "I cannaught believ we could naught even bring a mule." Sinclair said, breaking the monatany of the walk. He wasn't just complaining, as it became evident he had embroiled himself in a discussion of spoils with Orek. The Dwarf chuckled through his well groomed beard. "Last I checked, seven rings wasn't that big of a haul." He rumbled, smirking at the duelist. "Besides, as long as we find the place we can get back there easy enough to take the rest of whatever loot there is. If I were you, I'd be happy we don't have a beast here that might get spooked and run off with all of that treasure you're hoping to get your hands on." "I'm pretty sure Kane can carry quite a lot." Po remarked casually, an easy smile on his face as he walked beside them. His staff was now on the back of his shoulders with his arms up and resting on it. His skin was tanned and his arms were toned from a life of manual labor. He could likely lift quite a bit as well, but Dwarves were known for their ability to haul large loads, so despite being the second tallest, Orek could give Po a run for his money in carrying capacity. "Stupid," Phyrrae breathed. "Counting your vrikerumbles before they bear honey..." Likely a comment on the three of them assuming they would find anything. Meanwhile, Kane had actually lagged behind a few feet. The massive humanoid's shoulders were still slightly taller than the top of Mari's head, though there was a comforting aura about Kane. He had the look of a careful and loyal friend to match how fearsome of an enemy he would be. "Mari, I have a question to ask if you would honor me." The Drogator growled, his large tail scraping along the ground audibly. "Are you a powerful warrior among your kind?" He asked. "Traveling the Blackwood alone is something most humans would not do." He watched her curiously, Mari likely having seen lizards who looked the same when they were on alert for predators or prey. "What brings you here on our journey?"</s> <\|message\|>Name The sun was still in the sky, but it had notably lowered into the west, casting light along the table as they spoke. It was clear the Elf and Gnome weren't entirely used to a stranger passing through Greybridge to seek company with them out of the blue, as the two exchanged looks when he asked if he could buy them a hot meal and a drink. Despite speculating, it was clear Calvin was up for it to a point. As if on cue, his small stomach growled audibly, causing Saskia to roll her eyes. "That's kind," Saskia remarked, eyeing Cillian for a moment. "We have been here for awhile, however." "Not too long." Calvin interjected, elbowing her. "Besides, we haven't eaten anything since we sat down. We can at least enjoy a meal from our new friend before we depart, eh?" Two elves with braids and riding leathers strode into the front door as a few laborers stalked out into the streets. The city seemed as lively as ever, with raucous conversations mixed with hushed meetings in the corner of the Iron Star. It drowned out the silence of Saskia, who shrugged her shapely shoulders after she deliberated. She seemed to lower her wariness quite a bit actually. "I guess I should relax. After all I just made a fortune and you're wanting to buy me dinner. What's not to like?" She replied, calling over two drinks for her and Calvin on Cillian's dime. She got a Banian Whiskey, one of the strongest recreational drinks menfolk had. "Though, I am curious. What makes you so enamored with the Blackwood, my friend? You do know it's a death trap. Even a bard would have a hard time finding glory in there without a touch of death. You don't even have a Knight or monster slayer to follow. Will you go in alone?" "Oh and the city is always safe?" Calvin asked. "At least the city is predictable. The Blackwood is filled with nameless things and creepy crawlies." Saskia shuddered for a moment, though her comfort returned tenfold when she got her whiskey. Calvin received and Andredian mead for a light buzz and a warm stomach to go with his meal. "Yes, tell us your end goal, friend." Calvin suggested to Cillian.</s>	<\|message\|>Mari Mari couldn't help a little laugh at Kane's question. "A warrior? Yes. Powerful? Not especially. Not yet, anyway. That's partly why I'm here." Her few years of dedicated training gave her an edge, she imagined, over the average bandit or amateur swordsman, but basic weapon skills were not what made her little group special. "Do you know of Rán? The Widow of the Seas? She has a temple here, somewhere in the Blackwood. I've trained with her Daughters, and if I can find the temple and complete whatever the goddess has in store for me inside, I'll become one of them." She grabbed the swinging symbol of Rán hanging from her belt to show her companion as evidence. "It doesn't happen very often. Daughters of Rán live very long lives through the Widow's gifts, so we're not making pilgrimages to forgotten places every year, you know?" Asherah never did tell Mari how old she was exactly, but some of her sisters speculated at minimum several hundred years old. For a human to reach that was of course only possible through magic. She occasionally glanced at Kane as she walked, but for the most part Mari kept her focus on her surroundings as they went deeper into the woods. Nowhere here was safe, and while the casual banter of the group was reassuring, Mari did not want to be caught off guard by anything out here. d8+1 = 3+1 = 4</s>
<\|description\|>Sylvaine de Vermeille Human (Vrettonian) \| 30 \| Female Appearance Sylvaine is 160cm tall, with a wiry, athletic build. Her shoulderlength hair is a rare jet black, her eyes emerald green; features that raised more than a few brows during her upbringing. Her skin has marks of combat on it, nicks and scars that Sylvaine does her best to hide. She typically wears comfortable, durable clothes of wool and leather, and is seldom seen without a sword on her hip. Personality Sylvaine has that somewhat deadly mix of absolute charm and severe narcisism that tends to make people misjudge and underestimate her in social interactions. Her warm and inviting veneer can change to indifferent ruthlessness in an instant, and very few ever see it coming. Her greed and lust (especially for power, but pleasure will mostly do) knows no bounds. She is an unpredictable friend at best, and a twitchy snake of an enemy at worst. Background * Mercenary/Bandit/Assassin (Optional) * Commoner * Father was the commander of a company of sellswords and died a drunk beggar, mother is unknown and presumed dead. History (Optional) Sylvaine always was her fathers girl, and took his customs and those of his company right to heart. Life on campaign is hard, especially for a little girl among ruthless men, and so she had to become ruthless herself. She first learned how to hide and steal, then to lie and decieve, and finally to fight and kill. Every vice or dark deed you can think of Sylvaine has done, or at least considered. She left her father to die when he lost command of the company and turned to drinking, and took whatever possessions of his still worth having with her. The road is her home now, wherever it may take her. Motivation Sylvaines goals in life is to take what she can, and give nothing back. Capabilities Attributes Combat [1/1] * One handed Sword (1) * Daggers (1) * Dual Weilding (1) Intelligence [1/1] * Linguistics (1) * * Charisma [1/1] * Diplomacy (1) * Charm (1) * Seduction (1) * Deception (1) Health [1/1] * Fortitude (1) * Rejuvenation (1) Faculties [1/1] * * * Agility [1/1] * Run (1) * Stealth (1) * Pick Pocket (1) Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * Longsword * Dagger * Leather Clothing Money 1 Royal, 3 Lordlings, 15 Commons Languages Vrettonian, Dre Costan, Northern</s> <\|message\|>Mari Balance: 1d8+1 = 5 (4 + 1) Intelligence: d8 = 4 Mari missed the sound of the sea. It was something she'd taken for granted, born and raised near the water as she always had been, and now that it was gone, the world seemed all too uncomfortably quiet. This forest would test her, she knew; Asherah had promised as much, and to become a Daughter of Rán, Mari would have to overcome adversity. She needed to prove she was one of them in heart and mind before she could be granted any gifts. She stopped at the edge of the gulley, pushing auburn hair from her face. Getting around this would take hours, and Mari wanted to make it deeper into the forest well before darkness fell. She had a passing knowledge of world geography, but without help in this forest she would be hopelessly lost. People lived in the darkness of the wood somewhere, she just had to find them, and perhaps see if a deal could be made. That meant getting down and through the gulley. Mari noted the very large, very dead thing down there, but whatever felled it was nowhere to be seen, no tracks she could identify at a distance. The smell was strong, though. Best not to linger here any longer than I have to. She started down carefully after securing her pack and her shield, making quick work of the descent. She almost slipped once, but caught herself and kept her feet, setting foot in the basin. Her boots sank into the mud beneath the shallow, filthy water, but she made sure to keep moving, finding that the muck wasn't severe enough to threaten her. The creature was an ogre, she guessed, judging by Asherah's descriptions from stories she'd told. Goddess, the old woman had a lot of stories. The ogre looked to be a few days dead at least, and the smell grew even worse as she passed. With no intent of sticking around to end up beside the dead ogre, Mari began the work of climbing up the far side of the gulley, finding it no more difficult than the descent. It wasn't the warmest welcome into the Blackwood, but Mari had already steeled herself for the worst. Whatever the Watery Widow intended to throw at her, she would face it.</s> <\|message\|>Name Gundarogs: These creatures are one of two subspecies of 'Rog'. The normal, forest dwelling rog are slightly larger, with sallow or green skin. Gundarogs, however, are their underground dwelling counterpart, skin black as if burned and faces horribly twisted. Gundarogs stand around 5 feet tall, with gangly but strong limbs, and weigh around 100 pounds out of their twisted black iron armor. Hideously cruel and malicious, Gundarogs infest mountain holes and the deeps beneath the earth, ever searching for metals to twist into their crude but deadly weapons and armor, but more importantly for buried demons and forgotten gods to worship. They enjoy torture and feasting upon hapless humanoids, but they abhor light, particularly the sun. The fact that they are here is an indication to a clue about the Blackwood proper, for even under such gloom they would not make their homes above ground. Something about the forest is even darker than it appears, or perhaps they were called? Perhaps both? The creature squealed in a piercing wail and dropped the scorpion, looking very akin to a cockroach that found a meal repulsive to its sensibilities. The scorpion scuttled away into the brush, making a twisted path through a mixture of bushes and fallen boughs towards Kyiriniae'aea, suddenly forming back into the very confused baby not half a minute later. Such spells lasted a longer time with more mundane and well understood beasts like sheep and chickens. The child was now looking around curiously, unable to fathom what had just occurred. Behind him, the four Gundarogs had not yet grabbed their weapons, which from where Kyiriniae'aea stood, she could see they were barbed spears and cruel stabbing swords. Rather than screech further or run, they scuttled a few meters away from the fire and watched it fearfully, whispering to one another in their strange, guttural tongue. The flame roared black before their eyes, unyielding from Kyiriniae'aea's cantrip. It seemed they took the fire as an omen, with the loss of their meal via polymorph simply a further sign as to an entity that had chosen to speak with them. There was no telling what Gundarogs would do if they saw a Silver Elf, as most see them attack when others trespass upon their mountain caverns rather than the creatures making a home in the woodlands. When it became apparently the fire wouldn't harm them, they approached closer and gripped their spears, raising them into the air like primitive men or apes, beginning to chant a string of words that sounded like a strange rhyme. The child began to cry once more at the Elf's feet, though the things had yet to hear past their chanting. --- Mari had ascended without error, just in time to make it under the cover of the thick trees when she heard a strange noise in the distance. She found a good tree to hide behind among the myriad of elms and birches, just as she heard an incredibly loud warscream from some winged monstrosity that swooped in from above. It looked twenty feet long from the tip of its tail to it's snout, very dragon-like in appearance save for its brown ridged scales, clubbed tail, and the fact it only had four appendages with small clawed hands at the top of its vast wings. It was terrifyingly mesmerizing to watch it drop onto the ridge Mari had just traversed like a strange bird, clinging to it before it let its taloned feet slide further into the gulley so it could feast upon the huge Ogre's corpse. It likely was not the thing that had killed the monster, but it would certainly capitalize on a free meal when it found it. The warrior would be so transfixed on the display of nature, that she would be caught completely by surprise when a strong hand grabbed her mouth and a sudden sound of "ssshhh" would escape the lips of whoever hid behind her. Mari could struggle, but she would hear the next words as follows. "Don't scream. I'm not here to harm you..." Suddenly she was let go, and Mari would see amid the shadow of the forest, another warrior woman. Tall and lithe, and strong of limb. Her long dark hair was tied into a flowing ponytail, she was adorned with a bronze breastplate and bronze greaves. Her blue eyes contrasted her coppery skin, and she was similiarly armed as Mari with a sword and shield, albeit of different designs. She was also notably taller than Mari. She held her hands up disarmingly. "We must go before the Wyvern smells us. I am Ithaca, the Road Warden. Come with me and I'll take you to town."</s>	<\|message\|>Sylvaine de Vermeille Roll for deception = 6 + 1 = 7 Sylvaine had had enough of travel, at least for a few days. Having a storyteller for company on the road had certainly helped to ease the boredom of ceasless trudging along some path or other, but the novelty of this luxury had somewhat begun to fade. What she wanted was a proper bed to sleep in, a proper cooked meal to eat, and proper drink to get drunk on. They had all that in Greybridge, so naturally she wanted in. What she didn't want, however, was to upend what was left of her meagre purse into the long-fingered paw of some blackmailing bureaucrat. He would not be getting ten lordling out of her anytime soon. The notion of looking for another crossing a hundred miles or so downstream was, however, equally distasteful. Cillian was pleasant enough for company, no doubt, but Sylvaine had reached her limit when it came to hiking. Just the thought of campfires and wet bedrolls and endless, tedious marching made her wrinkle her nose in disgust. She would not be going wandering anywhere anytime soon. That left her in a bit of a pickle. What to do? She looked across at Cillian, who seemed to be thinking the exact same thing. Their eyes met, and she raised an eyebrow. He gave no immediate reply, so she shrugged and made for the notary, pushing past a few disgruntled farmers. One turned to confront her, but put his anger aside when he saw the steel on her hip and in her eye. "Good sir!" she exclaimed, hailing the man, "I do believe that a man of your stature and character would not demand such a tribute of an old ally of the township!" She walked right up to the armed men, a mask of calm and careless charm on her face, and gave a short bow. "de Vermeille is my name, Sylvaine, daughter to none other than Rainier de Vermeille, commander of the Blue Blades, who fought for this settlement during the border skirmishes of yesteryears. We were made kin then, we were told, for our service to the people, and would always be welcome when in need of a haven. Well, I am in need of such a haven now, as is my minstrel. A man of your nature would not go back on such a promise, would he? I, for one, would think not." She beamed at the notary, awaiting his reply.</s>
<\|description\|>Sylvaine de Vermeille Human (Vrettonian) \| 30 \| Female Appearance Sylvaine is 160cm tall, with a wiry, athletic build. Her shoulderlength hair is a rare jet black, her eyes emerald green; features that raised more than a few brows during her upbringing. Her skin has marks of combat on it, nicks and scars that Sylvaine does her best to hide. She typically wears comfortable, durable clothes of wool and leather, and is seldom seen without a sword on her hip. Personality Sylvaine has that somewhat deadly mix of absolute charm and severe narcisism that tends to make people misjudge and underestimate her in social interactions. Her warm and inviting veneer can change to indifferent ruthlessness in an instant, and very few ever see it coming. Her greed and lust (especially for power, but pleasure will mostly do) knows no bounds. She is an unpredictable friend at best, and a twitchy snake of an enemy at worst. Background * Mercenary/Bandit/Assassin (Optional) * Commoner * Father was the commander of a company of sellswords and died a drunk beggar, mother is unknown and presumed dead. History (Optional) Sylvaine always was her fathers girl, and took his customs and those of his company right to heart. Life on campaign is hard, especially for a little girl among ruthless men, and so she had to become ruthless herself. She first learned how to hide and steal, then to lie and decieve, and finally to fight and kill. Every vice or dark deed you can think of Sylvaine has done, or at least considered. She left her father to die when he lost command of the company and turned to drinking, and took whatever possessions of his still worth having with her. The road is her home now, wherever it may take her. Motivation Sylvaines goals in life is to take what she can, and give nothing back. Capabilities Attributes Combat [1/1] * One handed Sword (1) * Daggers (1) * Dual Weilding (1) Intelligence [1/1] * Linguistics (1) * * Charisma [1/1] * Diplomacy (1) * Charm (1) * Seduction (1) * Deception (1) Health [1/1] * Fortitude (1) * Rejuvenation (1) Faculties [1/1] * * * Agility [1/1] * Run (1) * Stealth (1) * Pick Pocket (1) Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * Longsword * Dagger * Leather Clothing Money 1 Royal, 3 Lordlings, 15 Commons Languages Vrettonian, Dre Costan, Northern</s> <\|message\|>Name Rittenvos was merely an outpost, but the fact that so many people filled the common room of the inn, and earlier when Mari saw the lively market, showcased just how much travelers and explorers counted upon this small bastion of civilization. In order to keep the flow moving, adventurers and mercenaries were likely as needed as fresh water. Little surprise then when Ithaca brought Mari across the common room to the very low-end, shoddy table that was attached to the wall. Ithaca elbowed her way over and gave Mari space to step forward, and she found herself in the company of four people. Kane sat on the ground, for the chair wouldn't be able to keep him aloft without breaking. The beast of a warrior was likely twice the weight of an already big man. She could see his thick tail splayed out behind him, resting like the tail of a crocodile. Next to him was a far shorter but still very heavy and dense fellow, Orek. He had an air of mischief and intelligence to him, and again he seemed to be leaner than most would expect from Dwarves. Likely for his traveling lifestyle. His garb was leather and cloth, though undoubtedly he had finely wrought chainmail beneath his cloak. He smiled through his beard when he saw Ithaca walk over, his pipe in his teeth. "Oh, are ye coming with us lass? Or did ye bring someone to take yer place?" Orek asked slyly. Both Orek and Kane were on the right side of the table. On the left were two striking people. One was a lovely elven woman, her blonde hair tied in a bun, her shapely form in a kalasiris, a strange priestly robe. She seemed particularly haughty in nature, raising an eyebrow at Mari when she appeared. Beside her was Po, who was even more handsome up close. His eyes sparkled with a fire that promised humor and intellect, and his dark mane of hair was cut just halfway down his neck. He was likely tall, despite the fact he was seated. He gave a friendly smile, his full lips noticably on his tanned skin. "I know you'll be having a bit of a get together tomorrow. Seeing as I'm leaving, I thought I might give you a recommendation." Ithaca said, and Mari would be playfully pushed forward a bit by the Praelian. Apparently she was still a bit too tipsy to be completely professional. "Hey," Po said casually, and he held his hand out to Mari to shake. "You were the warrior that made it here today, from the southern road?" "The one that riled the Dragon?" The Elf pipped in. "No one riled the Dragon, pointy ear." Orek said. "'Least, no one here." "Phyrrae doesn't like other women cramping her style." Po joked, which caused the elf to clearly take offense at that suggestion, though she didn't speak immediately.</s> <\|message\|>Mari Mari found herself pushed forward into a dashing group of adventurers, smiling a little awkwardly back at Ithaca. One of her sisters had fashioned her leathers, and while they were finely crafted, embossed and studded and fitted comfortably to her form, with swirling and twisting decorative elements of Norgardian design, Mari felt she was certainly the least impressive of this group. Kane and his plate armor she'd already encountered, but now she got a better look at the elven woman in her beautiful priestly robes. They were of Nestariel, the healer, or at least she thought, as the design was more exotic and archaic than other traveling priests she'd encountered before. Her gaze seemed to pierce through, but Mari paid it little mind. She was new, after all. The dwarf seemed friendly enough, Orek, and then there was Po, his hand outstretched towards her. "That's me," she said, giving it a shake. "My name's Mari, I've come from the Sea of Swords. I'm going to be here for a little while at least, so I thought I'd look for some opportunities." Her holy symbols of Rán were displayed openly hanging from her belts for the observant. She didn't laugh at Po's joke, only smiling a little, as she wasn't sure what the dynamic here was yet, and had no desire to turn the elven woman's disposition against her before they'd even begun. "I can pull my own weight in a fight and in the wild, if you'll have me."</s> <\|message\|>Name When Torsten woke up again, it was midday...likely. The gloom permeated the forest floor, though by his prone position facing upwards, he could see the barest glimpse of the sun peaking through three small spots among the canopy. The other two lads were asleep, however judging by their light breathing, either would wake up as soon as a twig was broken. Torsten himself felt much better, at least compared to what he expected. He still ached all over and a broken rib or two wouldn't heal overnight. Torsten would lay there for a bit before any minute movements of trying to make himself more comfortable would awaken his allies, and then the three would have a hardy breakfast before breaking camp, tossing about the burnt logs and covering much of where they had been with large ferns and various foliage debris. Torsten was a tough one, getting ready and dressed like the other two despite his injuries, and after some deliberation on their path, they would begin to move south as they had been going the other day. The Blackwood seemed a world unto its own, misty far away and vaguely clear within thirty meters ahead, large trees framing every facet of every direction; inescapable. The cries of something pierced the veil of unease, though it wasn't a warcry as it was yesterday. The three warriors stiffened, able to pinpoint where the approaching man, for it sounded like one, was coming from. They would be able to deduce on if they should hide, run, or spring into action as they saw a fellow, clearly a merchant of some kind, stumbling and falling onto the overgrown underbrush of the forest floor. Behind him was a strange sight. A waif chased him in unremarkable trousers and a flowing linen top. Her auburn hair cut short and her eyes fixed on the running man. What either were doing here was unknown, but it was up to the three warriors to see what they would do in such an out of place situation.</s> <\|message\|>Cillian Kindellan Perhaps Cillian had been listening to the rhythm of the city for too long, or perhaps attempting to overhear a conversation in a crowded tavern was too tricky a task, but whatever the reason, Cillian's attempts to learn more about the money changing hands proved to be futile. It was clear that information was being exchanged between the two groups, but whether it was the elf and the gnome giving information to the warrior-woman, or the reverse, he could not make out. Whatever the case, it intrigued him, and he had all but forgotten his pangs of hunger. Cillian had spent his life following things that intrigued him, and it had yet to steer him wrong. He hesitated, catching his own train of thought for a moment. It had yet to steer him 'too' wrong. Every scar told a story, and when your trade was stories, sometimes a close scrape was far more useful than an easy ride. Cillian's internal monologue was cut short as the warrior-woman strode past his table, the mace that hung at her hip lightly knocking against the table itself as she passed. Jolted back to reality, Cillian could practically feel the thread of oppurtunity slipping through his fingers. Perhaps if Sylvaine was with him, he could ask for her to share her... unusual perspective, but a quick glance over to the bar told him that she was making no great haste in joining him at the table, still in conversation with the dishevelled dwarf. No, if he wanted to grasp this oppurtunity, whatever this oppurtunity was, he would have to do it on his own. For a moment, he felt himself teetering on a knife-edge, deciding which way to fall. He could seize the thread before it had slipped away entirely, or he could sit back and let it pass, waiting for Sylvaine to eventually return with a drink and a hot meal, whenever that might be. A ghost of a smile crossed Cillian as he considered the question. He had never been the type to let the oppurtunity for a good tale to pass him by, and even with his legs stiff from travel, and his throat dry, he was not about to change now. Putting on his most friendly smile, and trusting that if he had been able to overhear the table, then they would be able to hear him, Cillian turned in his seat to face the elf and the gnome, leaning forward as he spoke. "Greetings, friends. I do not mean to intrude, but I am Cillian Kindellan, a wandering bard, and I have indeed been wandering far. My travelling companions have been pleasant enough, but I am always eager for some... fresher conversation, and the two of you have the appearance of people that are worth knowing. If I can trouble you for your time, perhaps we could get to know each other a little?" Attempt to charm the unlikely pair (Charm) = 5 + 1 = 6</s>	<\|message\|>Sylvaine de Vermeille Sylvaine closed her fist around the coins, flashing the dwarf her most heroic smile. "Much obliged" she said, pocketing the lordlings, "Your friend will be back in no time, don't you worry." Raising the glass to the dwarf one last time, as if to toast their accord, she turned around and started moving to where Cillian was sitting. Only, he wasn't there anymore. Sylvaine frowned and looked about the tavern, spotting her companion in the company of the interesting trio. She smiled at how typically Cillian it was of him to feel drawn towards them, dreamer that he was. She didn't want to ruin his introduction, however, so Sylvaine chose to sit down at their old table and wait for a bit. Once he'd rooted himself in their company, she could slide over and perhaps get something out of it as well. For now, she felt content just counting the money she'd took of the dwarf. It was almost too easy, sometimes, being insincere, but then again people often helped her more than they realized. Most people would rather believe a happy lie than a sad truth, however nonsensical. Some practically begged of her to lie to them, to tell them what they wanted to hear, and were more than willing to pay for the privilege. Who was she to deny them? And she'd had such a good teacher, too. She'd seen her father defeat far more enemies with the sharpness of his wits and the point of his tounge than with any edged steel. 'Swords are for rattling' he'd always told her, 'Not for drawing.' Sylvaine glanced towards where Cillian was sitting, wondering about how much of her so-called deal with the dwarf she should tell him. "Not much" was the most reasonable answer, at least until they were far away enough from the dwarf in question for him to do something stupid, like telling him their names or somesuch. Then again, the thought of lying to him somehow didn't sit right with her. She groaned in disgust as she realized that she was perhaps starting to like the man. That she would have to remedy. Nothing good ever came out of camaradiery.</s>
<\|description\|>Cillian Kindellan Human (Caelic Isles) \| 37 \| Male Appearance Cillian does not stand out from the countless travellers on the road. He does not boast the powerful bulk of the warrior, or the lithe silhouette of the rogue, but he still stands at a decent height of around six foot, and beneath his clothing, his frame is one of wiry muscle, marked with dozens of scars and painted with the traditional woad tattoos of his people. His hair is pale, a rare sight among those who hail from the Caelic Isles, and he wears it long and braided, along with a short and unruly beard. His clothing is simple but durable, and he is rarely found without his carefully crafted mail armour, forged by his father's own hand. The spear and shield, often slung across his back, and the dagger on his belt, are also from his father's forge, and along with his armour, they are his last ties to his home, and his family. It is Cillian's eyes that are his most striking feature, a pale but fiercely intense blue that light up with an almost ethereal fire whenever he has a story on his lips, or a foe before him. Personality Cillian has spent years rubbing shoulders with paupers and kings, and this has left him with an easy charm. Coupled with the natural warmth and kinship of those hardy folk that carve out a life the Caelic Isles, Cillian is a friendly figure, although anyone who spends too long in the man's company will realise that there is something a little... unhinged about the wanderer. Perhaps it true that fey blood runs through his veins, or perhaps Cillian has simply spent too long dreaming of mythic creatures and fantastical legends, but despite the welcoming nature of the man, he is clearly not all there. Perhaps it is this that fuels his wandering, and sees him rarely spent too long in place, or with one group. Despite this, he is an earnest companion, an honourable warrior, and a talented entertainer. Background * Wandering Bard * Lower Class * Son of the Blacksmith and the Storyteller History (Will be filled over time) Cillian was born into a simple village, clinging to a windswept rocky island that juts from the stormy waters of the Shrouded Sea. The second son of the village's blacksmith, Cillian had as comfortable a childhood as can be expected from the people that cling to the Caelic Isles, but that is not to say that his upbringing was uneventful. To survive on the islands, people grow up tough, and they grow up fast. Norgardian raids were common, and as soon as Cillian was old enough to stand, he had a spear thrust into his hands, and taught how to use it. It was to Cillian's older brother, Ronan, that the trade of smithing was passed down, and while his brother worked over the forge under his father's watchful eye, Cillian was drawn more to his mother. The women of Cillian's village were as hardy as the men, just as likely to take up a weapon and defend her homestead as the men, and Cillian's mother was no exception. And yet it was in the flickering firelight of the night, as the clan pulled close together in the chieftain's hall, against the darkness and the chill, that Cillian's mother was in her element. It is the druids that tie the Caelic Isles to their gods, but it is the storytellers and bards that tie them to their myths, and their legends, and their history. Cillian's mother was one of those storytellers, and Cillian hung on her every word. All of the village's children enjoyed her stories, gripped by the tales of great beasts and courageous heroes, but for Cillian, it was something different. He had an almost insatiable hunger for these legends, and when he heard them, his eyes lit up, and he felt truly alive, as if he could see these fantastical creatures in the room before him, even as his mother spoke. Whenever other clans visited the village, for trade or to keep relations friendly with their neighbours, Cillian begged them to share their own tales, and when they relented, he drank them in greedily. Motivation Cillian wanders the world, bringing the songs and legends of his people to anyone who has coin to spare, but he has long held ambitions of experiencing a legend of his own, and that ambition has drawn him to the dark depths of the Blackwood... Capabilities Attributes Combat [1/1] * Polearm with Shield (1) * Daggers (1) * Intelligence [1/1] * Legendry (1) * * Charisma [1/1] * Singing (1) * Charm (2) * Health [1/1] * Toughness (1) * Stamina (1) * Rejuvenation (1) Faculties [1/1] * Perception (1) * Intuition (1) * Willpower (1) * Woodcraft (1) Agility [1/1] * Balance (1) * Swimming (1) * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * Spear * Shield * Dagger * Mail Armour Money 5 Royals, 12 Lordlings and 28 Commons Languages Caelic, Northern Tongue</s> <\|message\|>Name The mage seemed to try and absorb the information. Clearly he was intelligent simply based on the look in his eye, but that didn't mean he wasn't useful. His gaze turned to the doorway, where one could see the vine covered wall of the inner tower that led down to the ground floor, and then he looked to the book cases with a monumental pile of books. It looked like he had been just as surprised to see Kyiriniae'aea as she, him. At her admittance to her plight, he almost seemed to stumble on himself. "Sure," He said, but then caught himself like someone had whipped him. "I mean- Yes, of course." He bowed and took her hand, giving it a light kiss. His voice was strong, and it had gained a bit of professionalism. "My apologies, I'm simply a little overwhelmed. I was fully expecting to fight someone to the death, not meet a lovely woman- er, Elven maiden such as yourself." He finally moved to the chair she had presented him, setting down and placing his knife in the sheath on his hip. He scratched his scalp, just below his thick mane of black hair. "Forgive me, I haven't explained much of anything, have I?" He asked. He spoke to scold himself just as much as to apologize to her. "As I said, I am Alcander. I'm an adept and mage of the Mythrin Tethir. Your portal... it was within the tower I had been given by my master, north of Greybridge city. Minutes ago I saw it come to life and I couldn't get a reading in my Crystal Sphere. It's dangerous magic to handle, though I'm certain you know that." It was clear he was used to speaking to other mages, but he was less used to speaking to elves or beautiful women and he tried to pass it off as if it were nothing. He also clearly seemed to think Kyra was far more knowledgable than he likely was, considering how old she could potentially be. "If we're in the Blackwood, then this very well might be in a Mythal Itha." He remarked, then he stood up slowly and decided to make his way over to the third bookshelf on the right, running his fingers over the spines of the books. Finally, after it looked as if he was going to take a book out and begin reading, he instead turned empty-handed. "I have so many questions but, tell me of this warlock?" Alcander placed his arm across his chest, in the same manner a man might hook his arm around a lady's, only before him rather than at his side. He bowed again. "I'll help you, if I can, Lady Kyra."</s> <\|message\|>Name Sylvaine sat down next to the Dwarf, who seems particularly downtrodden. In fact he looked like a particularly sullen bulldog that somehow learned to drink alcohol with the best of them. Judging by the empty mugs beside him and that an alcoholic haze surrounded his beard. He didn't seem to notice Sylvaine at first, finishing his fifth mug, emptying half of its contents by what looked to be a pure opening of his throat. It was almost fascinating to watch. Once the mug was down, however, he gave Sylvaine the stink eye. Though she seemed to be just charming enough to at least warrant some answers from him. "Day? Aye you could say that. More like a bloody week." He regurgitated, calling another drink. The Dwarf sighed, letting out a small belch. "Me cousin got himself lost in the Blackwood a few days ago. Ambushed by Orcs, you see. No, he's not dead. I know what yer thinking." He declared. "He's far too tough to let a little thing like violent orcs kill him off. No, he got himself lost and I hadn't the supplies or time to find him. I should go back out there, but I wouldn't even begin to know where to look." Meanwhile, Cillian found himself at a table alone. Though he had no one to speak to, it gave him a very good chance to listen. A low murmur of the crowd reverberated constantly in the background, but thankfully that didn't drown out the conversations of the closer or more prominent and interesting people. Most notably, the Skayeleigh woman that had stalked past them at the beginning seemed to know the Elven maiden and Gnome sitting with her, but it appeared they were simply there for a business transaction. A business of information, in fact. It was hard to tell exactly what they were discussing, but the mentioning of secrets and the very real bag of coin being slid across the table was something to take note of. It made sense, the city being very much a place of trade and tourism. It was logical to think someone would make it their business to know who was where and what was happening. @Romero</s>	<\|message\|>Cillian Kindellan Glancing across to the bar that Sylvaine had gravitated towards, Cillian frowned slightly when he saw that she had apparently struck up a conversation with the dishevelled dwarf, rather than with the inn-keep. The dwarf certainly didn't look to be in a sharing mood, and although Cillian couldn't make out their conversation, he doubted they were discussing the acquirement of any food and drink. Or at least not for Cillian. Thankfully a lifetime of wandering, travelling wherever his feet took him, had left Cillian as a man with plenty of patience, and despite the pangs from his stomach, and the dryness of his mouth, the man from the Caelic Isles was always grateful for a moment of peace, and as he leant back in his chair, stretching out his tired legs, Cillian closed his eyes for a moment, and simply listened. It had been his mother's first story that had lit the fire within Cillian, but it had not been until he had first heard her sing that the flame had been whipped into an inferno. To hear the magic of her words, to feel the power of the legends in her voice, it had bewitched Cillian. He had spent untold hours sharing the stories he had learnt with anyone who was willing to listen, and as he had grown older, he had lent his own voice to the windswept hall of his village. Ever since that first song, Cillian had grown to appreciate the sounds of life, and as he leant back in his chair, the air around him was alive with noise, and it was like music to him. The murmur of a dozen voices filled the tavern, weaving together to form a wall of noise, each voice merging into the next, but there was more beyond that. The sound of boots on floorboards gave an uneasy beat to the symphony, and if Cillian concentrated, he could hear horseshoes on cobbles from the streets that ran past the tavern. Running beneath it all, like the silver thread along the hem of the chaotic tapestry, Cillian could still hear the roar of the river Heathric. The noise was at the heart of the city, just as the river itself was, and to Cillian, it was like the blood-flow of some mighty beast. In an instant, one noise cut through it all, and brought Cillian crashing back to reality, the tether frantically tugging for his full attention. The distinctive sound of a coin purse landing on a table, and being slid across it, was a sound that was all too familiar to Cillian, and as it cut through the hubbub of the tavern, the wandering bard was careful to keep his eyes closed, straining for the source of the sound. It didn't take him long to realise that it had come from the direction of the unusual trio that had had noticed when he had first entered. It seemed as if he would have to wait for something to eat, but his hunger was all but forgotten as he strained to overhear the conversation of the Skayeleigh warrior-woman, the Elven maiden and the Gnome gentleman. At worst, it would serve as a welcome distraction, and perhaps even make for an interesting tale. Attempt to overhear the conversation (Perception) = 1 + 1 = 2</s>
<\|description\|>Cillian Kindellan Human (Caelic Isles) \| 37 \| Male Appearance Cillian does not stand out from the countless travellers on the road. He does not boast the powerful bulk of the warrior, or the lithe silhouette of the rogue, but he still stands at a decent height of around six foot, and beneath his clothing, his frame is one of wiry muscle, marked with dozens of scars and painted with the traditional woad tattoos of his people. His hair is pale, a rare sight among those who hail from the Caelic Isles, and he wears it long and braided, along with a short and unruly beard. His clothing is simple but durable, and he is rarely found without his carefully crafted mail armour, forged by his father's own hand. The spear and shield, often slung across his back, and the dagger on his belt, are also from his father's forge, and along with his armour, they are his last ties to his home, and his family. It is Cillian's eyes that are his most striking feature, a pale but fiercely intense blue that light up with an almost ethereal fire whenever he has a story on his lips, or a foe before him. Personality Cillian has spent years rubbing shoulders with paupers and kings, and this has left him with an easy charm. Coupled with the natural warmth and kinship of those hardy folk that carve out a life the Caelic Isles, Cillian is a friendly figure, although anyone who spends too long in the man's company will realise that there is something a little... unhinged about the wanderer. Perhaps it true that fey blood runs through his veins, or perhaps Cillian has simply spent too long dreaming of mythic creatures and fantastical legends, but despite the welcoming nature of the man, he is clearly not all there. Perhaps it is this that fuels his wandering, and sees him rarely spent too long in place, or with one group. Despite this, he is an earnest companion, an honourable warrior, and a talented entertainer. Background * Wandering Bard * Lower Class * Son of the Blacksmith and the Storyteller History (Will be filled over time) Cillian was born into a simple village, clinging to a windswept rocky island that juts from the stormy waters of the Shrouded Sea. The second son of the village's blacksmith, Cillian had as comfortable a childhood as can be expected from the people that cling to the Caelic Isles, but that is not to say that his upbringing was uneventful. To survive on the islands, people grow up tough, and they grow up fast. Norgardian raids were common, and as soon as Cillian was old enough to stand, he had a spear thrust into his hands, and taught how to use it. It was to Cillian's older brother, Ronan, that the trade of smithing was passed down, and while his brother worked over the forge under his father's watchful eye, Cillian was drawn more to his mother. The women of Cillian's village were as hardy as the men, just as likely to take up a weapon and defend her homestead as the men, and Cillian's mother was no exception. And yet it was in the flickering firelight of the night, as the clan pulled close together in the chieftain's hall, against the darkness and the chill, that Cillian's mother was in her element. It is the druids that tie the Caelic Isles to their gods, but it is the storytellers and bards that tie them to their myths, and their legends, and their history. Cillian's mother was one of those storytellers, and Cillian hung on her every word. All of the village's children enjoyed her stories, gripped by the tales of great beasts and courageous heroes, but for Cillian, it was something different. He had an almost insatiable hunger for these legends, and when he heard them, his eyes lit up, and he felt truly alive, as if he could see these fantastical creatures in the room before him, even as his mother spoke. Whenever other clans visited the village, for trade or to keep relations friendly with their neighbours, Cillian begged them to share their own tales, and when they relented, he drank them in greedily. Motivation Cillian wanders the world, bringing the songs and legends of his people to anyone who has coin to spare, but he has long held ambitions of experiencing a legend of his own, and that ambition has drawn him to the dark depths of the Blackwood... Capabilities Attributes Combat [1/1] * Polearm with Shield (1) * Daggers (1) * Intelligence [1/1] * Legendry (1) * * Charisma [1/1] * Singing (1) * Charm (2) * Health [1/1] * Toughness (1) * Stamina (1) * Rejuvenation (1) Faculties [1/1] * Perception (1) * Intuition (1) * Willpower (1) * Woodcraft (1) Agility [1/1] * Balance (1) * Swimming (1) * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * Spear * Shield * Dagger * Mail Armour Money 5 Royals, 12 Lordlings and 28 Commons Languages Caelic, Northern Tongue</s> <\|message\|>Name Rittenvos was merely an outpost, but the fact that so many people filled the common room of the inn, and earlier when Mari saw the lively market, showcased just how much travelers and explorers counted upon this small bastion of civilization. In order to keep the flow moving, adventurers and mercenaries were likely as needed as fresh water. Little surprise then when Ithaca brought Mari across the common room to the very low-end, shoddy table that was attached to the wall. Ithaca elbowed her way over and gave Mari space to step forward, and she found herself in the company of four people. Kane sat on the ground, for the chair wouldn't be able to keep him aloft without breaking. The beast of a warrior was likely twice the weight of an already big man. She could see his thick tail splayed out behind him, resting like the tail of a crocodile. Next to him was a far shorter but still very heavy and dense fellow, Orek. He had an air of mischief and intelligence to him, and again he seemed to be leaner than most would expect from Dwarves. Likely for his traveling lifestyle. His garb was leather and cloth, though undoubtedly he had finely wrought chainmail beneath his cloak. He smiled through his beard when he saw Ithaca walk over, his pipe in his teeth. "Oh, are ye coming with us lass? Or did ye bring someone to take yer place?" Orek asked slyly. Both Orek and Kane were on the right side of the table. On the left were two striking people. One was a lovely elven woman, her blonde hair tied in a bun, her shapely form in a kalasiris, a strange priestly robe. She seemed particularly haughty in nature, raising an eyebrow at Mari when she appeared. Beside her was Po, who was even more handsome up close. His eyes sparkled with a fire that promised humor and intellect, and his dark mane of hair was cut just halfway down his neck. He was likely tall, despite the fact he was seated. He gave a friendly smile, his full lips noticably on his tanned skin. "I know you'll be having a bit of a get together tomorrow. Seeing as I'm leaving, I thought I might give you a recommendation." Ithaca said, and Mari would be playfully pushed forward a bit by the Praelian. Apparently she was still a bit too tipsy to be completely professional. "Hey," Po said casually, and he held his hand out to Mari to shake. "You were the warrior that made it here today, from the southern road?" "The one that riled the Dragon?" The Elf pipped in. "No one riled the Dragon, pointy ear." Orek said. "'Least, no one here." "Phyrrae doesn't like other women cramping her style." Po joked, which caused the elf to clearly take offense at that suggestion, though she didn't speak immediately.</s> <\|message\|>Mari Mari found herself pushed forward into a dashing group of adventurers, smiling a little awkwardly back at Ithaca. One of her sisters had fashioned her leathers, and while they were finely crafted, embossed and studded and fitted comfortably to her form, with swirling and twisting decorative elements of Norgardian design, Mari felt she was certainly the least impressive of this group. Kane and his plate armor she'd already encountered, but now she got a better look at the elven woman in her beautiful priestly robes. They were of Nestariel, the healer, or at least she thought, as the design was more exotic and archaic than other traveling priests she'd encountered before. Her gaze seemed to pierce through, but Mari paid it little mind. She was new, after all. The dwarf seemed friendly enough, Orek, and then there was Po, his hand outstretched towards her. "That's me," she said, giving it a shake. "My name's Mari, I've come from the Sea of Swords. I'm going to be here for a little while at least, so I thought I'd look for some opportunities." Her holy symbols of Rán were displayed openly hanging from her belts for the observant. She didn't laugh at Po's joke, only smiling a little, as she wasn't sure what the dynamic here was yet, and had no desire to turn the elven woman's disposition against her before they'd even begun. "I can pull my own weight in a fight and in the wild, if you'll have me."</s> <\|message\|>Name When Torsten woke up again, it was midday...likely. The gloom permeated the forest floor, though by his prone position facing upwards, he could see the barest glimpse of the sun peaking through three small spots among the canopy. The other two lads were asleep, however judging by their light breathing, either would wake up as soon as a twig was broken. Torsten himself felt much better, at least compared to what he expected. He still ached all over and a broken rib or two wouldn't heal overnight. Torsten would lay there for a bit before any minute movements of trying to make himself more comfortable would awaken his allies, and then the three would have a hardy breakfast before breaking camp, tossing about the burnt logs and covering much of where they had been with large ferns and various foliage debris. Torsten was a tough one, getting ready and dressed like the other two despite his injuries, and after some deliberation on their path, they would begin to move south as they had been going the other day. The Blackwood seemed a world unto its own, misty far away and vaguely clear within thirty meters ahead, large trees framing every facet of every direction; inescapable. The cries of something pierced the veil of unease, though it wasn't a warcry as it was yesterday. The three warriors stiffened, able to pinpoint where the approaching man, for it sounded like one, was coming from. They would be able to deduce on if they should hide, run, or spring into action as they saw a fellow, clearly a merchant of some kind, stumbling and falling onto the overgrown underbrush of the forest floor. Behind him was a strange sight. A waif chased him in unremarkable trousers and a flowing linen top. Her auburn hair cut short and her eyes fixed on the running man. What either were doing here was unknown, but it was up to the three warriors to see what they would do in such an out of place situation.</s>	<\|message\|>Cillian Kindellan Perhaps Cillian had been listening to the rhythm of the city for too long, or perhaps attempting to overhear a conversation in a crowded tavern was too tricky a task, but whatever the reason, Cillian's attempts to learn more about the money changing hands proved to be futile. It was clear that information was being exchanged between the two groups, but whether it was the elf and the gnome giving information to the warrior-woman, or the reverse, he could not make out. Whatever the case, it intrigued him, and he had all but forgotten his pangs of hunger. Cillian had spent his life following things that intrigued him, and it had yet to steer him wrong. He hesitated, catching his own train of thought for a moment. It had yet to steer him 'too' wrong. Every scar told a story, and when your trade was stories, sometimes a close scrape was far more useful than an easy ride. Cillian's internal monologue was cut short as the warrior-woman strode past his table, the mace that hung at her hip lightly knocking against the table itself as she passed. Jolted back to reality, Cillian could practically feel the thread of oppurtunity slipping through his fingers. Perhaps if Sylvaine was with him, he could ask for her to share her... unusual perspective, but a quick glance over to the bar told him that she was making no great haste in joining him at the table, still in conversation with the dishevelled dwarf. No, if he wanted to grasp this oppurtunity, whatever this oppurtunity was, he would have to do it on his own. For a moment, he felt himself teetering on a knife-edge, deciding which way to fall. He could seize the thread before it had slipped away entirely, or he could sit back and let it pass, waiting for Sylvaine to eventually return with a drink and a hot meal, whenever that might be. A ghost of a smile crossed Cillian as he considered the question. He had never been the type to let the oppurtunity for a good tale to pass him by, and even with his legs stiff from travel, and his throat dry, he was not about to change now. Putting on his most friendly smile, and trusting that if he had been able to overhear the table, then they would be able to hear him, Cillian turned in his seat to face the elf and the gnome, leaning forward as he spoke. "Greetings, friends. I do not mean to intrude, but I am Cillian Kindellan, a wandering bard, and I have indeed been wandering far. My travelling companions have been pleasant enough, but I am always eager for some... fresher conversation, and the two of you have the appearance of people that are worth knowing. If I can trouble you for your time, perhaps we could get to know each other a little?" Attempt to charm the unlikely pair (Charm) = 5 + 1 = 6</s>
<\|description\|>Cillian Kindellan Human (Caelic Isles) \| 37 \| Male Appearance Cillian does not stand out from the countless travellers on the road. He does not boast the powerful bulk of the warrior, or the lithe silhouette of the rogue, but he still stands at a decent height of around six foot, and beneath his clothing, his frame is one of wiry muscle, marked with dozens of scars and painted with the traditional woad tattoos of his people. His hair is pale, a rare sight among those who hail from the Caelic Isles, and he wears it long and braided, along with a short and unruly beard. His clothing is simple but durable, and he is rarely found without his carefully crafted mail armour, forged by his father's own hand. The spear and shield, often slung across his back, and the dagger on his belt, are also from his father's forge, and along with his armour, they are his last ties to his home, and his family. It is Cillian's eyes that are his most striking feature, a pale but fiercely intense blue that light up with an almost ethereal fire whenever he has a story on his lips, or a foe before him. Personality Cillian has spent years rubbing shoulders with paupers and kings, and this has left him with an easy charm. Coupled with the natural warmth and kinship of those hardy folk that carve out a life the Caelic Isles, Cillian is a friendly figure, although anyone who spends too long in the man's company will realise that there is something a little... unhinged about the wanderer. Perhaps it true that fey blood runs through his veins, or perhaps Cillian has simply spent too long dreaming of mythic creatures and fantastical legends, but despite the welcoming nature of the man, he is clearly not all there. Perhaps it is this that fuels his wandering, and sees him rarely spent too long in place, or with one group. Despite this, he is an earnest companion, an honourable warrior, and a talented entertainer. Background * Wandering Bard * Lower Class * Son of the Blacksmith and the Storyteller History (Will be filled over time) Cillian was born into a simple village, clinging to a windswept rocky island that juts from the stormy waters of the Shrouded Sea. The second son of the village's blacksmith, Cillian had as comfortable a childhood as can be expected from the people that cling to the Caelic Isles, but that is not to say that his upbringing was uneventful. To survive on the islands, people grow up tough, and they grow up fast. Norgardian raids were common, and as soon as Cillian was old enough to stand, he had a spear thrust into his hands, and taught how to use it. It was to Cillian's older brother, Ronan, that the trade of smithing was passed down, and while his brother worked over the forge under his father's watchful eye, Cillian was drawn more to his mother. The women of Cillian's village were as hardy as the men, just as likely to take up a weapon and defend her homestead as the men, and Cillian's mother was no exception. And yet it was in the flickering firelight of the night, as the clan pulled close together in the chieftain's hall, against the darkness and the chill, that Cillian's mother was in her element. It is the druids that tie the Caelic Isles to their gods, but it is the storytellers and bards that tie them to their myths, and their legends, and their history. Cillian's mother was one of those storytellers, and Cillian hung on her every word. All of the village's children enjoyed her stories, gripped by the tales of great beasts and courageous heroes, but for Cillian, it was something different. He had an almost insatiable hunger for these legends, and when he heard them, his eyes lit up, and he felt truly alive, as if he could see these fantastical creatures in the room before him, even as his mother spoke. Whenever other clans visited the village, for trade or to keep relations friendly with their neighbours, Cillian begged them to share their own tales, and when they relented, he drank them in greedily. Motivation Cillian wanders the world, bringing the songs and legends of his people to anyone who has coin to spare, but he has long held ambitions of experiencing a legend of his own, and that ambition has drawn him to the dark depths of the Blackwood... Capabilities Attributes Combat [1/1] * Polearm with Shield (1) * Daggers (1) * Intelligence [1/1] * Legendry (1) * * Charisma [1/1] * Singing (1) * Charm (2) * Health [1/1] * Toughness (1) * Stamina (1) * Rejuvenation (1) Faculties [1/1] * Perception (1) * Intuition (1) * Willpower (1) * Woodcraft (1) Agility [1/1] * Balance (1) * Swimming (1) * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * Spear * Shield * Dagger * Mail Armour Money 5 Royals, 12 Lordlings and 28 Commons Languages Caelic, Northern Tongue</s> <\|message\|>Name Not having given their names, Emilio and Wēlanandaz still could differentiate the now incredulous aristocrats clearly. The first one who complained the loudest was portly, with dark brown hair encompassing his curled hair to sweep down over his face and make a full, groomed goatee. His vest was purple and he seemed to be a bit more annoyed than the others when it came to the topic they spoke of. The next man was tall, with a hawk nose and a frock coat. He had hair on his head, though it was wispy and straw colored. The other looked a bit younger than them, average of height. Though he had strange, indigo eyes and black locks. He sported a dueling saber at his hip, just below a green vest of satin. The portly man looked at Emilio with only the barest hint of suppressed anger. The merchant would see that there were more armed men there than the Knights of the Skull, even if this was clearly their stronghold. The nobles had their own personal guard it seemed. It was hard to judge how many of them there were, though an educated guess would indicate anywhere from twenty, to about sixty to seventy men between all three of them. It was hard to gauge considering they did not seem to be about to venture forth themselves, with many of their men likely out and about performing various tasks. "Who the fuck are you?" The normally well mannered, bearded noble asked Emilio. He took a moment to stare down the merchant before he decided to turn away lest he order something of his guards he might regret later. "A sales pitch isn't necessarily what we need right now." The younger noble remarked, though he did seem more amused and annoyed, and perhaps even intrigued at the man who so brazenly walked up to the three of them discussing this dark business. As for the third fellow, he actually chuckled. It sounded like a chipmunk squeaking when it found it's favorite nut. "On the contrary. Bertram, perhaps this is what we need." He seemed to be referring to the portly one. "A Dwarf forged blade, or ones a stout one can vouche for, could give us an edge on whatever endeavors we find ourselves locked into." He imperiously waved a gesture at Emilio as he continued. "This fellow here seems a daring and smart one as well. Did not our father's father's become rich from such noble pursuits as salesmen." "My father gained nobility from slaying a Malgani Sorcerer that was threatening the Kingdom, Valence." The fat one snapped back. "And was he not able to afford Dwarf forged weaponry because his father peddled wares?" Valence asked. "Nathan, do help me out here." The young one shrugged. "I would like to hear what the Dwarf has to say." @Tony Pajamas</s> <\|message\|>Name "You'll have an easier time sleeping in the barn." The raven-haired woman said, doing her best to sweep whatever dust was on the porch away from the two newcomers. A strange pair by all accounts. Around them, the village was the epitome of the word 'quaint.' Men wore sporting vests of low quality whilst women wore wool dresses, though you could find either sex wearing workman's trousers if they were doing a menial job. There had to have been plenty of trade, as there was very little room for any farmland, and by any measure the soil was not made for it. The hamlet of Berute was situated in a small vale surrounded by jagged faces of rock that could hardly be called mountains. More like upjumped hills made of stone, guarding the small area from the greater Blackwood and it's more pressing dangers, at least that was the idea behind the town's inception. There were two known ways in and out; the southern route and the northern route. The two adventurers had made their way through the south, from left the town of Gladstone a week previously. Their provisions now low, Berute seemed like a dream come true. Lovely thatched houses and little in the appearance of deadly beasts. The only real indication this was still within the Blackwood was the large trees that had been spaced a bit less thickly as they hiked through the glens and glades toward the little village. Cows and other livestock had been grazing in the forest beside them as they had walked, which was likely the town's main source of food and comfort. Now, the two had sought a place to stay for the night as any would expect them to. As it were, that didn't seem to be working out. "Look..." the woman said, leaning her broom on the wall and facing the two. She was a pretty woman with green eyes, though it was easy to imagine them flaring in severity if she grew angry. "I do deeply apologize for the lack of space. But we do have a barn. It's clean and we can provide some blanket. All you'll need to do is pay for the food." A cart passed behind them, two handsome horses carrying a load of crates. Behind it, an Elf played a tune on a lye as two Dwarves grumbled, hauling sacks of grain while trying not to tell the elf to be quiet too harshly. Truthfully it was a beautiful melody, but Dwarves weren't elven fans at the best of times. @Tortoise</s>	<\|message\|>Cillian Kindellan Cillian had risen to his feet as he spoke, and as the unusual pair turned to look at him, he took a tentative step closer to their table, the well-rehearsed smile never leaving his face. If nothing else, his introduction seemed to distract the pair from squabbling over the fat coin purse, and that was as good a start as any. The pause in bickering was only short-lived, and Cillian quickly got the impression that the elf and the gnome were old friends, arguing back and forth, each looking to gain the upper hand. Cillian's smile didn't falter, but behind the pale blue eyes, his mind was racing to keep up with the overlapping intricacies of the conversation. He had the distinct feeling that he was being played, the pair perhaps sniffing out the oppurtunity that a fumbling newcomer might present. He had names now at least, but even those set him ill at ease. The elf was Saskia, and the gnome Calvin, but it had been the gnome's reaction that had surprised Cillian. Was it simply being introduced as a sidekick that had taken him by surprise, or was it the name itself? Before Cillian could ponder too long on the thought, his mind caught up with his ears, and he realised that the pair were looking at him expectantly. Ever the showman, Cillian grinned widely again as he spread his arms wide. Perhaps the pair were looking to swindle him, or perhaps it was simply idle curiosity, but whatever the reason, they had agreed to be his audience, and Cillian had never been one to walk away from a willing audience. Taverns had been his stage countless times in the past, and despite the unfamiliarity of the city beyond the building's walls, the bard was in his element, the fire behind his eyes slowly flickering into a blaze as he spoke. "I have many tales to tell, if you only have the time, but it is a tale that I cannot yet tell that has brought me to this fair city. Ever since I was a boy, clinging to my mother's skirts, I was haunted by dreams of darkness. But this was not the darkness that plagues all children, the darkness of shadows and things that go bump in the night, this darkness was deep, and it called my name. It was only as I grew older, and heard the tales and legends of the world, that I learned the name of that darkness. The Blackwood. Ever since that day, the darkness has continued to call to me, and although my path has been long and winding, I always knew that it would eventually lead me here. The inky darkness waits on the other side of the raging waters, and I know that my fate lies within it. I am a man of legends and grand tales, and the Blackwood will grant me my greatest stories, I need only for someone to strike the first match. Friends, the two of you strike me as seasoned travellers, familiar with these parts. I wonder then, if your paths have ever led you beyond the water, and into the darkness beyond..." Cillian allowed himself to tail off, the sound of his own heart pounding in his ears, a single pale eyebrow raised towards the pair. He hoped that his hunch was correct, that the unusual pair would not be lingering in Greybridge without having travelled into the Blackwood, or at least know the tales of those that had. Perhaps this was a dead end, perhaps it would simply an oppurtunity to waste away some time, but Cillian could not shake the clinging sense that there was something else here, something more. Attempt to charm the unlikely pair, in hopes that it might loosen lips (Charm) = 3 + 1 = 4</s>
<\|description\|>Cillian Kindellan Human (Caelic Isles) \| 37 \| Male Appearance Cillian does not stand out from the countless travellers on the road. He does not boast the powerful bulk of the warrior, or the lithe silhouette of the rogue, but he still stands at a decent height of around six foot, and beneath his clothing, his frame is one of wiry muscle, marked with dozens of scars and painted with the traditional woad tattoos of his people. His hair is pale, a rare sight among those who hail from the Caelic Isles, and he wears it long and braided, along with a short and unruly beard. His clothing is simple but durable, and he is rarely found without his carefully crafted mail armour, forged by his father's own hand. The spear and shield, often slung across his back, and the dagger on his belt, are also from his father's forge, and along with his armour, they are his last ties to his home, and his family. It is Cillian's eyes that are his most striking feature, a pale but fiercely intense blue that light up with an almost ethereal fire whenever he has a story on his lips, or a foe before him. Personality Cillian has spent years rubbing shoulders with paupers and kings, and this has left him with an easy charm. Coupled with the natural warmth and kinship of those hardy folk that carve out a life the Caelic Isles, Cillian is a friendly figure, although anyone who spends too long in the man's company will realise that there is something a little... unhinged about the wanderer. Perhaps it true that fey blood runs through his veins, or perhaps Cillian has simply spent too long dreaming of mythic creatures and fantastical legends, but despite the welcoming nature of the man, he is clearly not all there. Perhaps it is this that fuels his wandering, and sees him rarely spent too long in place, or with one group. Despite this, he is an earnest companion, an honourable warrior, and a talented entertainer. Background * Wandering Bard * Lower Class * Son of the Blacksmith and the Storyteller History (Will be filled over time) Cillian was born into a simple village, clinging to a windswept rocky island that juts from the stormy waters of the Shrouded Sea. The second son of the village's blacksmith, Cillian had as comfortable a childhood as can be expected from the people that cling to the Caelic Isles, but that is not to say that his upbringing was uneventful. To survive on the islands, people grow up tough, and they grow up fast. Norgardian raids were common, and as soon as Cillian was old enough to stand, he had a spear thrust into his hands, and taught how to use it. It was to Cillian's older brother, Ronan, that the trade of smithing was passed down, and while his brother worked over the forge under his father's watchful eye, Cillian was drawn more to his mother. The women of Cillian's village were as hardy as the men, just as likely to take up a weapon and defend her homestead as the men, and Cillian's mother was no exception. And yet it was in the flickering firelight of the night, as the clan pulled close together in the chieftain's hall, against the darkness and the chill, that Cillian's mother was in her element. It is the druids that tie the Caelic Isles to their gods, but it is the storytellers and bards that tie them to their myths, and their legends, and their history. Cillian's mother was one of those storytellers, and Cillian hung on her every word. All of the village's children enjoyed her stories, gripped by the tales of great beasts and courageous heroes, but for Cillian, it was something different. He had an almost insatiable hunger for these legends, and when he heard them, his eyes lit up, and he felt truly alive, as if he could see these fantastical creatures in the room before him, even as his mother spoke. Whenever other clans visited the village, for trade or to keep relations friendly with their neighbours, Cillian begged them to share their own tales, and when they relented, he drank them in greedily. Motivation Cillian wanders the world, bringing the songs and legends of his people to anyone who has coin to spare, but he has long held ambitions of experiencing a legend of his own, and that ambition has drawn him to the dark depths of the Blackwood... Capabilities Attributes Combat [1/1] * Polearm with Shield (1) * Daggers (1) * Intelligence [1/1] * Legendry (1) * * Charisma [1/1] * Singing (1) * Charm (2) * Health [1/1] * Toughness (1) * Stamina (1) * Rejuvenation (1) Faculties [1/1] * Perception (1) * Intuition (1) * Willpower (1) * Woodcraft (1) Agility [1/1] * Balance (1) * Swimming (1) * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * Spear * Shield * Dagger * Mail Armour Money 5 Royals, 12 Lordlings and 28 Commons Languages Caelic, Northern Tongue</s> <\|message\|>Name The tavern halted. The low music and the clinking of glass were the only sounds that graced the room after Cillian had spoken. It seemed his story and way with words left the room in rapt-fascination, and to anyone it would have been comical to look at the two patrons that he was speaking to. Calvin had wide eyes, looking to and fro between Cillian and Saskia to see what his companion thought. For her part, Saskia looked equal parts impressed, dumbfounded, and a little weirded out. "Um..." She began. "No, not me." Calvin said, waving his hands and shaking his head. "I'm just a city boy." "I've been there." Saskia nodded, clearing her throat. "Not for very long, but I've had to travel through there once with a caravan. Ran into a few beasts that I'd rather not run into again. Were you wanting to know what lies west of here? I could regaile you myself but..." She raised an eyebrow, a hand with tantilizing fingers curling toward's Cillian. "my memory is a little fuzzy...maybe a silver Lordling could listen my lips?" "Two silver lordlings?" Calvin piped in with a wink. Saskia elbowed him gently, but not too gently. She glared at him. "I have the information, I'm the one getting a lordling. He's a smart man, yes?" Her last sentence had her looking back at him, lips curved into a smile. "Information is my trade. I may lie, but never when I do business." Charm roll from Saskia: 4+2=6. You can contest and roll willpower if you so choose. Or you can trust her.</s> <\|message\|>Torsten Meier The sunlight cut through the forest like a razor sharp sword pierces one's torso. The pain in Torsten's side had improved. It wasn't as bad as he anticipated, but he'd been injured before and the pain was tolerable. He knew he was lucky to be alive and knew he needed to keep moving. He figured he would be healed in a day or two; hopefully. Breakfast was decent. Oz caught some rabbit and the three sucked on the juicy bits. Torsten inhaled his portion as he was quite famished. Lord knows he needed the protein in the meat. After sterilizing the campsite as best they could, they ventured further to the south in order to continue their trek into the unknown. Conversation was light, about nothing in particular. They focused more on the sights and sounds of the forest around them. Their hunter's ears were tuned in and didn't want to be surprised. Torsten took the trail slot in the column as Oz, the largest took center. He allows the lighter Ulf Gunnerson or Wolf to take the point. Wolf was an agile hunter, quick on his feet. He would be able to evade an attack faster than the others. Torsten removed his bow, notched an arrow and prepared for whatever might present itself upon the trail ahead. It didn't take long for a situation to appear. A scream of sorts erupted in their ears. All three men prepared for a battle, not knowing what was coming. It just didn't sound like the orcs they dealt with the day prior. Oz removed the 5' 6" two-handed sword from its scabbard and held it at the ready on his right side. He was prepared to bring pain upon any foe who threatened him. Wolf removed his shield from his back, securing it to his left arm and a small sword in his right. He held the left side of the trail. Between the two and three steps to the rear was Torsten with his bow up and read to draw. The odd fellow stumbling over the undergrowth in front of them was more bulbous than sinewy. All three men breathed a sigh of relief realizing they would not have to kill this one. The man was in a panic paying more attention to the auburn-haired young woman chasing him. Her hair was cut short, more like a man, than a woman, Oz thought. Torsten found her mildly attractive and Wolf wondered how quickly he could dispatch both to the underworld. "Stop!" Torsten yelled at the pair, who seemingly halted all movement, freezing in their steps looking up at the trio of northerners who barred their path. "What are you doing here?!"</s> <\|message\|>Mari In truth, Mari was a little taken aback by how much Po seemed to know. She hadn't expected to learn anything useful when she asked, and now that she had a crude map drawn up for her, she still didn't quite believe it. It couldn't be that easy, right? It had to be the wrong temple, or it had to be more difficult to find than it seemed. Only one way to find out, of course. "Maybe," she answered, putting a finger on the map and sliding it closer to her. Her eyes didn't leave it, studying the bits Po added to it one by one. "Just more to look forward to tomorrow, I guess." She was certain her excitement was slipping through. At this point even a fight didn't sound too bad, if it meant she might learn something about her goal. "Okay," she said, nodding and taking the map, folding it up neatly. "I should probably get some rest, then. Long day ahead of us tomorrow." She slid her chair back and got to her feet. "Thank you, Po. And good night." She turned to head to her room and made it one step before she turned back. "Oh, and it's... Daughter of Rán. Not sister. We're just sisters to each other. Um." She paused, and then nodded again. "Good night!" Reddening a little, she turned and headed off towards her room, intent on sleeping off the ale before she had to go adventuring.</s>	<\|message\|>Cillian Kindellan Cillian's chest was still heaving as he caught his breath, but he couldn't stop the smile from spreading across his face. He could feel the eyes of the room upon him, and he felt almost overwhelmingly alive. He was in his element, a player on a stage, the ever-present flame whipped into an inferno. His intended audience seemed a little stunned by his performance at first, until the elf spoke, her voice seeming to finally break the spell that had descended over the tavern. He listened to the two talk for a moment, relieved to hear that his hunch wasn't entirely unfounded, before his eyes were drawn to the outstretched hand of the elf maiden. His brief visit to the city of Greybridge had already proven to be an expensive one, but the bard was no stranger to the concept of money greasing the wheels of information. Perhaps her knowledge was indeed scant, perhaps she was even lying to him, attempting to swindle a newcomer to the city, but something in her eyes spoke to Cillian. The two of them shared a trade, even if they practised their craft in different ways. It was information that Cillian wove into his tales, stitched into his songs, and he saw a glimpse of a kindred spirit in the elf. Cillian could tell grand legends of lands that he had never set foot in, recount the myths of people long dead, if this 'Saskia' traded in information, then it was not only her own experiences that she could share with Cillian, it was the experiences of every other soul that has pressed a coin into her outstretched palm. With practiced ease, Cillian reached into his coin purse, and pulled free a silver Lordling. He toyed with it in his hand for a moment, letting it run between his fingers, before taking another step closer to the unusual pair and dropping it into the outstretched hand of the elf. "I hope that this will serve to sharpen your mind, friend. I look forward to hearing your tale."</s>
<\|description\|>Cillian Kindellan Human (Caelic Isles) \| 37 \| Male Appearance Cillian does not stand out from the countless travellers on the road. He does not boast the powerful bulk of the warrior, or the lithe silhouette of the rogue, but he still stands at a decent height of around six foot, and beneath his clothing, his frame is one of wiry muscle, marked with dozens of scars and painted with the traditional woad tattoos of his people. His hair is pale, a rare sight among those who hail from the Caelic Isles, and he wears it long and braided, along with a short and unruly beard. His clothing is simple but durable, and he is rarely found without his carefully crafted mail armour, forged by his father's own hand. The spear and shield, often slung across his back, and the dagger on his belt, are also from his father's forge, and along with his armour, they are his last ties to his home, and his family. It is Cillian's eyes that are his most striking feature, a pale but fiercely intense blue that light up with an almost ethereal fire whenever he has a story on his lips, or a foe before him. Personality Cillian has spent years rubbing shoulders with paupers and kings, and this has left him with an easy charm. Coupled with the natural warmth and kinship of those hardy folk that carve out a life the Caelic Isles, Cillian is a friendly figure, although anyone who spends too long in the man's company will realise that there is something a little... unhinged about the wanderer. Perhaps it true that fey blood runs through his veins, or perhaps Cillian has simply spent too long dreaming of mythic creatures and fantastical legends, but despite the welcoming nature of the man, he is clearly not all there. Perhaps it is this that fuels his wandering, and sees him rarely spent too long in place, or with one group. Despite this, he is an earnest companion, an honourable warrior, and a talented entertainer. Background * Wandering Bard * Lower Class * Son of the Blacksmith and the Storyteller History (Will be filled over time) Cillian was born into a simple village, clinging to a windswept rocky island that juts from the stormy waters of the Shrouded Sea. The second son of the village's blacksmith, Cillian had as comfortable a childhood as can be expected from the people that cling to the Caelic Isles, but that is not to say that his upbringing was uneventful. To survive on the islands, people grow up tough, and they grow up fast. Norgardian raids were common, and as soon as Cillian was old enough to stand, he had a spear thrust into his hands, and taught how to use it. It was to Cillian's older brother, Ronan, that the trade of smithing was passed down, and while his brother worked over the forge under his father's watchful eye, Cillian was drawn more to his mother. The women of Cillian's village were as hardy as the men, just as likely to take up a weapon and defend her homestead as the men, and Cillian's mother was no exception. And yet it was in the flickering firelight of the night, as the clan pulled close together in the chieftain's hall, against the darkness and the chill, that Cillian's mother was in her element. It is the druids that tie the Caelic Isles to their gods, but it is the storytellers and bards that tie them to their myths, and their legends, and their history. Cillian's mother was one of those storytellers, and Cillian hung on her every word. All of the village's children enjoyed her stories, gripped by the tales of great beasts and courageous heroes, but for Cillian, it was something different. He had an almost insatiable hunger for these legends, and when he heard them, his eyes lit up, and he felt truly alive, as if he could see these fantastical creatures in the room before him, even as his mother spoke. Whenever other clans visited the village, for trade or to keep relations friendly with their neighbours, Cillian begged them to share their own tales, and when they relented, he drank them in greedily. Motivation Cillian wanders the world, bringing the songs and legends of his people to anyone who has coin to spare, but he has long held ambitions of experiencing a legend of his own, and that ambition has drawn him to the dark depths of the Blackwood... Capabilities Attributes Combat [1/1] * Polearm with Shield (1) * Daggers (1) * Intelligence [1/1] * Legendry (1) * * Charisma [1/1] * Singing (1) * Charm (2) * Health [1/1] * Toughness (1) * Stamina (1) * Rejuvenation (1) Faculties [1/1] * Perception (1) * Intuition (1) * Willpower (1) * Woodcraft (1) Agility [1/1] * Balance (1) * Swimming (1) * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * Spear * Shield * Dagger * Mail Armour Money 5 Royals, 12 Lordlings and 28 Commons Languages Caelic, Northern Tongue</s> <\|message\|>Torsten Meier The young woman chasing the fattened weasely older man came to a halt while the other lay sprawled across the ground. He looked up at Torsten and his friends as he slowly regained his footing. The man could not decide whether his pursuer was a werewolf or a witch, rendering Torsten to believe she wasn't either. She simply had the upper hand and he was looking for a way out. Torsten would not accommodate him. "No one likes a cheat, you fat oaf," Torsten decided to side with the witch, if she was one. He honestly believed she was simply smarter than the dumb fat man who allowed a woman to get the better of him in a card game. Some people will blame things out of their control on magic or just plain bad luck. Torsten decided this was one of those situations. "Ma'am, have you reclaimed your possessions?" Torsten asked the young woman lowering his bow. "Sir, I recommend you return to where you come from and pursue a more honest means of acquiring wealth. I look down on common thieves such as you. Now get out of here." Torsten looked at Ulf and Njal. He made a gesture as though they should lower their weapons and relax.</s> <\|message\|>Mari Mari gains... +1 Perception +1 Diplomacy A dragon. Brilliant. Mari would take her chances against orcs over facing a dragon dwelling in an acidic swamp, but if indeed it slumbered, perhaps it was the best bet. Three days' travel or more sounded like an ordeal, but Mari had the suspicion that any travel in these woods was risky to begin with. She had enough rations for herself, and could stretch them if need be. Probably wise to do so regardless, in case matters on their route got complicated. It was a diverse and interesting group of adventurers she'd manage to attach herself to, and Mari doubted that feeling of being the "new girl" would go away any time soon. They all seemed to know each other and have experience working together, to some degree. She walked alongside Phyrrae as they set out, quiet at first, keeping an eye on her surroundings and a hand always near her blade's hilt. The woods were calm in the morning, beautiful even, and she made a point to enjoy it while she had the chance. "You've a quick hand," she said quietly to the elven woman. "Not the first time you've won coin from Orek at that game, I'm guessing."</s>	<\|message\|>Cillian Kindellan Cillian could barely hear the elf over the roaring in his ears. He had heard the stories about the Blackwood, huddled around distant campfires or above the merriment of a dozen different taverns, but they still lit the fire within himself. Lost souls, fey spirits, an orc horde, demonic cults, if even half of the things that the elf was saying were true, then Cillian would find enough adventure to write a hundred songs. He had always known that his path would lead him into the darkness of the Blackwood, but even as the fire blazed into an inferno, he caught himself. When he was a younger man, he had been hot-headed, impetuous, too quick to throw himself into the jaws of danger just to feel the rush of adrenaline, just to feel alive, but he was older now, and he had not made it this far without cooling off a little. Wiser? Perhaps not, but he had enough scars across his body to have learnt a few lessons. His first instinct was still to leap at the opportunity, and the elf's words were more than enough to make Cillian want to plunge into the very heart of the Blackwood, but age, and experience, had given Cillian enough of a second instinct to stop and think. The spell seemed to break, and the hunger pains in Cillian's stomach suddenly came to life again, almost making him wince. Even the drink the elf's hand was enough to make his mouth dry. The Blackwood had been calling to Cillian for as long as he could remember, he was sure that he could ignore the voice for at least another night. Letting the easy smile on his face remain unflinching, Cillian nodded his thanks towards the elf. "You have been more than helpful, friend, thank you. I hope I am not imposing too greatly if I offer to buy you both a drink for your time. Something hot to eat perhaps?" Cillian was a stranger in a strange town, and the unusual pair across the table were the closest thing to friends that he had. If nothing else, they seemed as if they would be good company while he filled his belly and satisfied his thirst, and if he was to head across the river and into the depths of the forest, then this elf maiden, this 'Saskia' was the closest thing to a guide that he had found. If he could tease some more information out of her for the price of another flagon? Then he would consider the day a success. Attempt to convince the pair to stay awhile and share a drink (Charm) = 5 + 2 = 7</s>
<\|description\|>Cillian Kindellan Human (Caelic Isles) \| 37 \| Male Appearance Cillian does not stand out from the countless travellers on the road. He does not boast the powerful bulk of the warrior, or the lithe silhouette of the rogue, but he still stands at a decent height of around six foot, and beneath his clothing, his frame is one of wiry muscle, marked with dozens of scars and painted with the traditional woad tattoos of his people. His hair is pale, a rare sight among those who hail from the Caelic Isles, and he wears it long and braided, along with a short and unruly beard. His clothing is simple but durable, and he is rarely found without his carefully crafted mail armour, forged by his father's own hand. The spear and shield, often slung across his back, and the dagger on his belt, are also from his father's forge, and along with his armour, they are his last ties to his home, and his family. It is Cillian's eyes that are his most striking feature, a pale but fiercely intense blue that light up with an almost ethereal fire whenever he has a story on his lips, or a foe before him. Personality Cillian has spent years rubbing shoulders with paupers and kings, and this has left him with an easy charm. Coupled with the natural warmth and kinship of those hardy folk that carve out a life the Caelic Isles, Cillian is a friendly figure, although anyone who spends too long in the man's company will realise that there is something a little... unhinged about the wanderer. Perhaps it true that fey blood runs through his veins, or perhaps Cillian has simply spent too long dreaming of mythic creatures and fantastical legends, but despite the welcoming nature of the man, he is clearly not all there. Perhaps it is this that fuels his wandering, and sees him rarely spent too long in place, or with one group. Despite this, he is an earnest companion, an honourable warrior, and a talented entertainer. Background * Wandering Bard * Lower Class * Son of the Blacksmith and the Storyteller History (Will be filled over time) Cillian was born into a simple village, clinging to a windswept rocky island that juts from the stormy waters of the Shrouded Sea. The second son of the village's blacksmith, Cillian had as comfortable a childhood as can be expected from the people that cling to the Caelic Isles, but that is not to say that his upbringing was uneventful. To survive on the islands, people grow up tough, and they grow up fast. Norgardian raids were common, and as soon as Cillian was old enough to stand, he had a spear thrust into his hands, and taught how to use it. It was to Cillian's older brother, Ronan, that the trade of smithing was passed down, and while his brother worked over the forge under his father's watchful eye, Cillian was drawn more to his mother. The women of Cillian's village were as hardy as the men, just as likely to take up a weapon and defend her homestead as the men, and Cillian's mother was no exception. And yet it was in the flickering firelight of the night, as the clan pulled close together in the chieftain's hall, against the darkness and the chill, that Cillian's mother was in her element. It is the druids that tie the Caelic Isles to their gods, but it is the storytellers and bards that tie them to their myths, and their legends, and their history. Cillian's mother was one of those storytellers, and Cillian hung on her every word. All of the village's children enjoyed her stories, gripped by the tales of great beasts and courageous heroes, but for Cillian, it was something different. He had an almost insatiable hunger for these legends, and when he heard them, his eyes lit up, and he felt truly alive, as if he could see these fantastical creatures in the room before him, even as his mother spoke. Whenever other clans visited the village, for trade or to keep relations friendly with their neighbours, Cillian begged them to share their own tales, and when they relented, he drank them in greedily. Motivation Cillian wanders the world, bringing the songs and legends of his people to anyone who has coin to spare, but he has long held ambitions of experiencing a legend of his own, and that ambition has drawn him to the dark depths of the Blackwood... Capabilities Attributes Combat [1/1] * Polearm with Shield (1) * Daggers (1) * Intelligence [1/1] * Legendry (1) * * Charisma [1/1] * Singing (1) * Charm (2) * Health [1/1] * Toughness (1) * Stamina (1) * Rejuvenation (1) Faculties [1/1] * Perception (1) * Intuition (1) * Willpower (1) * Woodcraft (1) Agility [1/1] * Balance (1) * Swimming (1) * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * Spear * Shield * Dagger * Mail Armour Money 5 Royals, 12 Lordlings and 28 Commons Languages Caelic, Northern Tongue</s> <\|message\|>Name The sun was still in the sky, but it had notably lowered into the west, casting light along the table as they spoke. It was clear the Elf and Gnome weren't entirely used to a stranger passing through Greybridge to seek company with them out of the blue, as the two exchanged looks when he asked if he could buy them a hot meal and a drink. Despite speculating, it was clear Calvin was up for it to a point. As if on cue, his small stomach growled audibly, causing Saskia to roll her eyes. "That's kind," Saskia remarked, eyeing Cillian for a moment. "We have been here for awhile, however." "Not too long." Calvin interjected, elbowing her. "Besides, we haven't eaten anything since we sat down. We can at least enjoy a meal from our new friend before we depart, eh?" Two elves with braids and riding leathers strode into the front door as a few laborers stalked out into the streets. The city seemed as lively as ever, with raucous conversations mixed with hushed meetings in the corner of the Iron Star. It drowned out the silence of Saskia, who shrugged her shapely shoulders after she deliberated. She seemed to lower her wariness quite a bit actually. "I guess I should relax. After all I just made a fortune and you're wanting to buy me dinner. What's not to like?" She replied, calling over two drinks for her and Calvin on Cillian's dime. She got a Banian Whiskey, one of the strongest recreational drinks menfolk had. "Though, I am curious. What makes you so enamored with the Blackwood, my friend? You do know it's a death trap. Even a bard would have a hard time finding glory in there without a touch of death. You don't even have a Knight or monster slayer to follow. Will you go in alone?" "Oh and the city is always safe?" Calvin asked. "At least the city is predictable. The Blackwood is filled with nameless things and creepy crawlies." Saskia shuddered for a moment, though her comfort returned tenfold when she got her whiskey. Calvin received and Andredian mead for a light buzz and a warm stomach to go with his meal. "Yes, tell us your end goal, friend." Calvin suggested to Cillian.</s> <\|message\|>Mari Mari couldn't help a little laugh at Kane's question. "A warrior? Yes. Powerful? Not especially. Not yet, anyway. That's partly why I'm here." Her few years of dedicated training gave her an edge, she imagined, over the average bandit or amateur swordsman, but basic weapon skills were not what made her little group special. "Do you know of Rán? The Widow of the Seas? She has a temple here, somewhere in the Blackwood. I've trained with her Daughters, and if I can find the temple and complete whatever the goddess has in store for me inside, I'll become one of them." She grabbed the swinging symbol of Rán hanging from her belt to show her companion as evidence. "It doesn't happen very often. Daughters of Rán live very long lives through the Widow's gifts, so we're not making pilgrimages to forgotten places every year, you know?" Asherah never did tell Mari how old she was exactly, but some of her sisters speculated at minimum several hundred years old. For a human to reach that was of course only possible through magic. She occasionally glanced at Kane as she walked, but for the most part Mari kept her focus on her surroundings as they went deeper into the woods. Nowhere here was safe, and while the casual banter of the group was reassuring, Mari did not want to be caught off guard by anything out here. d8+1 = 3+1 = 4</s>	<\|message\|>Cillian Kindellan For a moment, Cillian held his breath. His offer seemed to hang in the air, fragile, and as the unusual pair glanced at each other, he did not know which way their decision would fall. He had spent much of his life rubbing shoulders with strangers, and he had always found an ease in forming brief, fleeting moments of companionship, but even so, the air seemed to crackle with anticipation. Not for the first time, it was the small frame of Calvin that came to the wandering bards aid. Cillian's face broke into a wide grin as he watched the elf-maidens shoulders shrug. For the next brief moment at least, Cillian would have company, and most importantly, a potential audience. As Saskia called for a drink, Cillian followed her lead, signalling not only a mead for himself, but also three hot meals. Calvin had made it clear that he wouldn't turn down some food, and if the elf wasn't hungry, then Cillian's growling stomach would certainly be willing to pick up the slack. He listened intently as the pair continued to bicker, his face not showing any sign of the thoughts whirling through his mind. The clear dislike of the Blackwood in Saskia's voice may go some way to crushing his initial ideas of creating an unusual travelling party, but that same bile in her words suggested that he was right when he suspected that she knew more about what lurked in the shadows than she might have already told him. The sun was dipping towards the horizon as they continued to talk, but Cillian had already conceded himself to the fact that his long dreamed about voyage into the calling darkness would have to wait at least until dawn. If he had to spend an evening in this strange city, then he could think of worse places than in a bustling tavern! A lull in the conversation alerted the bard to the fact that his input was required, and the thread tugged him back to the moment. Two expectant faces were looking at him from across the table, but Cillian's smile did not falter. A lifetime of a wandering mind had instilled in Cillian the ability to have his ears act almost independently, and it took only a moment for the thread to remind him of the question that had been levelled at him. Cillian's relaxed smile broke into a wide grin, and he felt the fire in his heart begin to burn brighter again. The tavern was beginning to fill as the evening drew in, and Cillian was careful to raise his voice a little, both to be heard above the bustling noise, but also with the intention that if there was curious ears nearby, they would be able to hear his words. "Why am I drawn to the Blackwood? For the same reason that the baby bird leaps from it's nest. It is in my blood. All of my life, I knew that my path would lead me here, that I would travel across the river and into the heart of darkness itself. Will I go in alone? I admit, I do not yet know. The Blackwood has haunted my dreams, it's call like that of a siren, but those dreams only show my path, they do not show whether I walk alone, or with other's at my side. Perhaps before this night is out I will have a companion, perhaps there are comrades waiting for me across the river, or perhaps I am destined to travel into the darkness alone. For now though, I am happy to eat, drink and be merry, for only the gods know what the new day will bring!" A tankard of mead had arrived at Cillian's elbow, and he was quick to grab it, raising it across the table towards the unlikely pair. His smile was wide and warm, his eyes flashing in the firelight that lit the tavern. "To your good health, friends, and to being merry!" Pay careful attention to the reactions of Saskia and Calvin, as well as the rest of the tavern, at his mention of companions, to see if he can gauge any interested parties (Perception) = 4 + 1 = 5</s>
<\|description\|>Emilio Virtoli Dre Costa \| 27 \| Male Appearance Skin darkened by the sun and with a natural tan from his Dre Costa ancestry are immediately obvious when looking over the man. Black hair is kept managed and cut above or tied above his shoulders to keep it proper and controlled. Rich Hazel Eyes stand out surprisingly beside a strongly defined nose. He has some strength to his body but not that of the standard day worker, as loading and unloading is only occasional to his travels. Enough to keep fit but not especially athletic. More importantly to him is his fine black dress clothes for when he's about town, sleeves puffed slightly and tailored to his form. Otherwise he tends towards simpler traveling clothes so as to save on costs and not immediately display wealth to unkindly onlookers. Personality Emilio is boisterous and cordial to an almost obnoxious degree when meeting him. Aiming to please and get into people's good graces quickly. Its a learned but almost impossible to stop behavior as it leaks into his casual conversations. Both a benefit and off putting given the state of the world and the places he visits at times. He can be serious when it comes to things but he tries to use good spirits to catch people's attention. Background * Profession (Merchant) * Class * Heritage (Son of Alivse Virtoli, his father and a former merchant, now a simple laborer. Son of Gioia Vortoli, his mother and a part-time seamstress part time inn maid.) History (Optional) Emilio had been born into unfortunate times for his family, having to live effectively on the streets for the young years of his life as his father had been barred and denounced after a shipment went wrong. His superiors had shifted the blame of a lost caravan solely upon him and their word carried heavier weight. Conveniently of course this kept him not just from receiving any share of the last deals payment, but of his typical month and beyond share. Thankfully for Emilio, there was still some sympathetic contacts that had figured it was a stroke of bad luck and offered to take the boy in and apprentice him. Though he lacked any formal education at first, used to that of what was needed as a street urchin, he picked up fairly quickly to the work. He trained his mind for many of the tasks needed and practiced his silver tongue on convincing the other children of things fairly often. Mostly kept to working as an assistant, helping pack and load different wares, eventually he was allowed to shadow other members of the local company to trade dealings and on travels. This still kept him mostly as the physical laborer grabbing whatever was needed, but it gave him some practical and on the job experience. It would be numerous years of this cycle but it all served as part of the apprenticeship. Eventually, he would be entrusted to handle smaller deliveries of good on his own and kept to smaller collections. Slowly a realization set in that he wouldn't be entrusted to larger tasks locally given the damage done to his family's name. He'd have to set out as an independent for any hope of true forward progress. Quickly he made his mind up and gathered what savings he had to pursue it. Purchasing his own cart and pack animal, a (hopefully) reliable donkey named Bertillo, he had what bare supplies he needed. Ledgers would have to start small and personal, kept in a single smaller diary on his person but he would seek his own fortune. As to where he would seek to find it? That would be wherever the world would drift him. Underscoring all this was the true harshness of the world he had yet to truly experience. Negotiations and belligerence of man was all well known to him. He had seen a small bestiary of animals on his travels, but he had yet to truly experience the terrors that lay out there. Motivation Emilio enjoys traveling the world and hopes to open his own proper trading company in the future. This is partially to spite those that had put his family in a rough spot and to bolster his family's name. Rich tales and getting to hear the going on-s of each new place keep invigorating him, and it is a comfort to revisit old stomping grounds and see how everyone has fared. There is the rare hope his talents might prove useful in some bigger way in the future that will land him big, but he's content to keep on with the way things are for now. Capabilities Attributes Combat [1/1] * One-handed Swords 1 * * Intelligence [1/1] * Appraisal 2 * Literacy 1 * Math 1 * Linguistics 1 Charisma [1/1] * Diplomacy 3 * Charm 1 * Voice 1 Health [1/1] * Hearing 1 * * Faculties [1/1] * Intuition 1 * * Agility [1/1] * * * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * Cart + Draw Donkey * Merchant Clothes * Sabre * Personal Ledger Money 4 royals, 2 lordlings, 85 commons Languages Dre Costan, Northern, Elvish</s> <\|message\|>Cillian Kindellan The air smelt like earth, the scent of it filling Cillian's nose and causing a smile to dance across his face. The smell of rain always reminded Cillian of his home, and those memories warmed him, despite the chill that still clung in the air. His village had been simple, a handful of longhouses clinging to a windswept island, lashed by storms and buffeted by the wild waters of the Shrouded Sea, but sitting by the hearth, with a fire roaring, you could forget all about the outside world, aside from the sound of rain on the thatched roof. It had been there, huddled around the fire, that Cillian had first heard his mother's stories, and even now, years later, Cillian could still remember the feeling of the flame being lit in his very core, and he could still remember every word of the story. It had been the tale of the fey queen, whose haunting wailing was a harbinger of death to all who heard it. With the flickering fire casting dancing shadows across the earthen walls, the tale had terrified the other children, but it had gripped Cillian. As soon as dawn had broken the next day, he had rushed, and covered every inch of the island, searching for the fey queen. He could have sworn he heard her wailing in the howling of the wind, caught sight of her blood red hair moving through the heather, but she kept slipping through his fingers. He only abandoned his search when his mother found him, shivering from the cold, and brought him inside, soothing him with more fantastical legends. A lifetime of practice had left Cillian's feet able to act almost on their own, continuing their steady march along a path or trail while Cillian's mind was far away, but no matter how distant Cillian's thoughts strayed from the reality of the present, there was always a steady, albeit tenuous, tether. And that tether tugged as the road began to grow busier. Perhaps calling it a road was giving the winding path through the Flontane Forest too much credit, and as Cillian glanced downwards, he saw that black mud clung to his boots with every step forward, thick tendrils seeming to fight his very progress. Seemingly as an after-thought, Cillian looked around him until he saw the slight, wiry figure of his companion, standing out from the crowd of bedraggled refugees by her jet black hair as much as by the sword he had never seen her without. Cillian had spent years around an ever-changing cast of people, but there was still something about the woman that intrigued him. He had mistaken her for little more than a girl when he had first glimpsed her on the road, but that was before he had noticed the scars, and seen that the sword on her hip was more than just part of her attire. The days merged into one on the road, so he could not say for sure how long ago they had started travelling together, but in that time, he still did not fully understand her, and that was what intrigued him so keenly. Sylvaine de Vermeille. Even the name rolled off his tongue with a sort of fantasy to it, conjuring up the image of some dashing heroine, and yet Cillian had quickly come to realise that heroine was not a word that he would use to describe his unusual travelling companion. She oozed with charm, but the smiles that flashed across her face was like that of a predator, toying with it's prey, and despite the time they had spent travelling together, Cillian had always half-expected her to cut his throat and dissapear into the night. Thankfully, his expectations were yet to be fulfilled. The tether tugged Cillian towards reality a second time, with an undeniable air or impatience, and he turned in time to see the forest falling away, and the bulk of Greybridge rising before him. If Cillian needed any reminder of how far he was from home, Greybridge served as a perfect one. He had heard tales of the city during his travels, but it was still a haunting sight. All dark stone, it seemed to crouch over the raging river Heathric like some vast mythical creature, and for good or for bad, it was towards this creature that the crowd around Cillian was drawn towards. For himself, and from what he could, for Sylvaine as well, it was not the city that called him, but what lay beyond the city. The river Heathric was fierce, Greybridge standing as the only crossing point for days travel in either direction, but across it's waters was the sprawling darkness of the accursed Blackwood. It had been from his mother that Cillian had first heard the tales of the shadowy depths, the nightmares that shifted through the trees, and now that he was this close, he could swear that he could hear it calling out to him, like a siren's song. He barely registered the halberdiers that stepped out through the gateway, even as the crowd around him drew back, but he was still tethered enough to hear the plumed hat demanding a toll for passage into the city. Cillian knew that he had coin enough to pay for both his and Sylvaine's passage, but as he looked across to find her in the crowd again, he saw that she was already watching him, and he knew that it was not going to be so simple. If he had learnt one thing from his time with the woman, it's that it never was. She raised an inquisitive eyebrow towards him as he met her gaze, but for now he didn't speak. To talk too loudly could risk the pair playing their cards too openly, but to talk too softly would see the words snatched away by the wailing wind. Cillian trusted that Sylvaine valued her own life enough not to try anything too foolish, but even so, as she pushed through the crowd Cillian made sure to follow after her. As she approached the plumed hat, Cillian made it to the front of the crowd, subconsciously flexing his shoulders as he felt the reassuring weight of his spear and shield slung across his back. He wasn't entirely surprised to see his companion launch into a theatrical performance. Even in their relatively brief time in each others company, Cillian had witnessed the silver tongue that Sylvaine possessed, and the sharp mind that rested behind the emerald eyes. He didn't know how much of what she was saying was deception, and how much was genuine, but Cillian did what he could to play his part, nodding his heard towards the guards at Sylvaine's mention of her "minstrel", and carefully watching to see what the reaction to his companion's theatrics would be.</s> <\|message\|>Kyiriniae'aea Kyiriniae'aea crouched down beside the child and wove her fingers beguiling before its eyes, stilling its cries as she wove a magical somnolence to quiet the baby. She had no particularly maternal instincts but if it started caterwauling at the right time it might disrupt her plan. With silence assured, she stood up and straightened her dress, preparing herself for the next step. There was some danger involved but she wasn't going to establish herself in this forest by timidity. She closed her eyes and wove a second spell. Blink The tall elf appeared in the flames as the Gundarogs chanted. Stepping quickly from the fire before it could catch. None the less a few of the fibres and the tips of her hair smoked and sizzled though she kept any cry from her lips so as not to spoil the illusion. The the Gundarogs it appeared as though she had been birthed from the flames in response to their chanting. Moving far enough from the fire to be safe she spread her arms akimbo to appear as impressive as she could. "Why have you ventured out under the accursed sun?" she demanded in tone of oratorical command. The back-lighting from the fire made her appear shadowed and featureless. "Why have you left the tunnels and forsaken the search for my brethren?" she demanded.</s>	<\|message\|>Emilio Virtoli Diplomacy = 8 + 3 = 11 The Dre Costan showed no signs of tiring from the boy's repetitive questions. All the more he seemed just as excited and lively. "Ah, but where there are towns there are people. Where there are people, my services shall always be required. Setting disputes, evaluating valuables, and moving about the general necessities of the world." Emilio spoke with elegance outwardly to the child, as if he had prepared this spiel his entire life. "Oh, and of course my friend here." He'd gesture with flair to Wēlanandaz. "Monsters mean armor and weapons are in great demand yes? Well what finer is there than expert Dwarvern make?" The question was exclaimed proudly and entirely rhetorical, though he'd move on before the child could comment on it. "I am certain one way or another it shall be an exciting and prosperous venture. You yourself found this to be your own service after all. I am certain you have heard much and more of the Blackwood. It would make me most grateful if you could tell us some more of what to expect. Anything you've heard of the locals, the closest towns or villages. Any and all is appreciated." An eye would look from the man to the shore as they made a turn towards it. A seemingly entire lackluster and lone spot. "Ah, and directions. Truly you would wish for us to make it safely yes? After we have made our fortunes here we would remember those that labored along the way." Emilio would add on with a cheery smile and tone. All but antithetical to the rowing man's silence. "Of course I'd hope the same to be true of myself. Should I find any weary souls who wish to turn their way back for an honest fee, I would all the more direct them to the one who had the same guided safely our own passage. I'd need a name of course for such a man and I would not ask without bestowing my own. Emilio Virtoli, merchant, as you already well know." A seated half bow was added on, not wishing to rock the boat overly much as they were soon to be pulling onto land.</s>
<\|description\|>Torsten Meier Norgardian \| 31 \| Male Appearance Torsten is a lean, wiry man who stands just under six feet at 5' 11 ¾" (182 cm). The Norgardian raider's features have always been somewhat dark or sullen. He is the type of person to stay to himself, seemingly lost in thought. Torsten is attracted to women who feel the need to fix a man because the lonesome huntsman appears to be in need of repair. He doesn't, but she would feel the need to fix him. He is not unattractive. His armor is made up of bits of leather or studded leather with a lamellar brigandine formed of small steel plates covered in leather. His armor is often covered by furs and a grey cloak. Torsten does not look like an imposing figure, but his agility and quickness on his feet make him a deadly match one on one. Personality Torsten was often considered a recluse by those who knew him. His seemingly quiet demeanor, when provoked leads towards outbursts of anger. Although, he is not the type to strike with a powerful fist, he can turn a fight to his advantage quickly and bring a larger man down with rapid successive blows to vital body parts. For the most part he is cool and collected. Insulting his Northern heritage or betraying his trust will get the hackles up for him. Then you know you are in trouble. Background Sailor/Raider Huntsman/Tracker Comes from a long line of hunters/raiders. History Torsten was raised near the coast living off the bounty of the sea. While most men in the village trawled the sea in search of their catch, his father along with a small group of others, hunted the forests for stags and other game to eat. From an early age, Torsten learned to track animals as well as men. His father taught him to read signs on the ground as well as snif the air and listen for clues as what was going on around him; where his prey was waiting, feeding, ready to die. As a young man, Torsten was compelled to leave the village on a quest of manhood. It was the right, nay obligation of every male to suffer trials towards becoming a man. Armed only with a small blade, a dagger, Torsten was cast from the village until he completed his trials. Only he would know when the trials were complete and then he could return to his home. He went into the mountains during the first snow of the season. An old hunting cabin, badly in need of repair atop a wind swept hill. He made this hovel his home during his trials. The pangs of hunger took him first, forcing him to hunt. He fashioned a bow out of hickory and hemp. He shaped the wood with his dagger, making notches at both ends for the string, manufactured out of dried hemp. It was strong and could withstand the pull of the bow. Satisfied with the pull of his bow, he manufactured arrows out of the same hickory with eagle feathers to guide them. He crafted at least a few dozen to use on his prey. The first night in the woods, he did not eat. He spent that day preparing his home and his tools. He was hungry. The sensation gnawed on him. He would eat the next day…or be eaten. The forest now covered in snow, he tracked a heavy stag. He could tell its weight, by the depths of the footprints. He knew he was close, but was he alone? A howling wolf answered his question. There were definitely other predators in forest. The pack moved in close. They did not want this intruder to steal their meal. They circled him baring their teeth, snarling and growling. A few yaps and barks. Torsten kept his eyes on the pack--five wolves, four of whom were grey. With an arrow notched, he loosed one at the largest; possibly the alpha who whined loudly with a yalp and dropped back a few yards. The one to his left charged Torsten who had no time to notch another arrow. He dropped the bow, took a few steps back, steeling himself for the beast to leap. The beast hurled himself forward off his strong haunches, teeth bared ready to kill. The dog impaled himself on Torsten's unsheathed knife. He used his left hand to keep the dog from biting his face. A third and fourth wolf charged at him as he backed up to a standing position. He swung his small blade at the two wolves who hesitated, rather than attack. They took a second thought running off into the trees along with the fifth, an albino with red eyes, who chose only to stand and watch the events unfold. It was as though she was gathering intelligence on a potential enemy. She obviously felt respect was warranted with this hunter. By the springtime, Torsten returned to his village a man, wearing pelts he took from beasts. His first beard covered his chin and face, eventually to be shaven off. His trials were successfully completed, and he was welcomed back into the village. The villagers feasted his accomplishment and then returned to their work after a week of revelry. Eventually, Torsten Meier chose it was best for him to leave the small fishing village. His personal quest was seeking wealth and adventure ever since. That was five years ago. Motivation To continue his quest for adventure and wealth. His private greed and quest for something he felt missing in his soul drove him. If the task is worth it, he will accept an employment offer. Capabilities Attributes Combat [1/1] * One Handed Sword: 0 * One Handed Cleaving: 1 * Dual Wielding: 0 * Archery: 1 * Unarmed: 1 Intelligence [1/1] * Bestiary: 2 * Legendary: 1 Charisma [1/1] * * * Health [1/1] * Strength: 1 * Stamina: 1 * Cold Resistance: 0 Faculties [1/1] * Perception: 1 * Tracking: 1 * Willpower: 0 * Woodcraft: 1 Agility [1/1] * Run: 1 * Balance: 1 * Outdoor Climbing: 0 * Ride: 0 Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * Lammellar Brigandine Armor * High soft leather boots * Studded leather vambraces * Leather greaves and paulders * Furs & grey cloak * handcrafted bow and a quiver of arrows * hand axe * shortsword * knife/dagger * pack containing some food and other essentials. * pouch containing his coins, mentioned below. Money 3 Royals (Gold) 5 Lordlings (Silver) 79 Commons (Copper) Languages Northern & Grim Northern</s> <\|message\|>Dyla Roots Dyla frowned. The Blackwood had not been as fun as in her daydreams. She didn't think it would be easy, but her imaginings had always been about fighting monsters, or unearthing lost treasure. Instead, the big problem of the Blackwood had been finding stuff to eat. She missed pumpkin pie. She was hoping the inn would be a welcome change, and now the first lady they met was telling them there was no room! But an inn was the place where she could find leads on treasure. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more Dyla was certain her entire adventure depended on getting into that inn. Or maybe she just didn't want to sleep in a barn. Charm: 6 (3+3) "Are you sure there's no room in the inn?" Dyla looked up at the pretty woman with the broom. "I don't take up much space, you know." Remembering Arden, and feeling a bit foolish, she added: "My bigger friend might, but he won't be any trouble. He's gentle. And," smirking now, "I'd bet he'd buy a lot of the ale!" She wasn't even sure how true that was, but if she was lying, isn't it for a good cause?</s> <\|message\|>Name The dim lighting gave the room a feel of 'winding down' to some, but Po seemed alert, if not relaxed. He was evidently very consumed by the book he read. That was, until Mari settled down at his table. He blinked and looked up when she smiled. He gave a bright smile back to showcase he wasn't annoyed at her wanting to speak to him. He put a bookmark in the leather bound tome and set it aside before regarding her. "Hey, it's no problem. We're going to be traveling together so it's probably good we talk a bit." he replied. He crossed his toned arms on the table, leaning on them. In the lighting, the caramel of his skin seemed an even deeper hue. The young man looked at the table, deep in thought as he considered her question. "A sister of Rán?" He echoed to himself, and then his dark eyes turned to meet hers. "You're one of them? Er, um looking to be?" He scratched the back of his head, ruffling his thick head of black hair. "I've never heard of a temple moving..." Po knew the ins and outs of most of this quadrant of the Blackwood, though that was a lot to retain in his mind, particularly considering how late it was. It took him a moment to next speak until his eyes brightened. "Wait, yes. Not a moving temple, but I do remember there being a rumor of a water temple with some sort of religious significance fairly close, actually. It's uh-" He turned around, opening up his knapsack. After ruffling around it a moment, he pulled out a sheet of paper and a quill. He dipped it in some ink, eyes glancing her way. "Sorry," He chuckled breathlessly. "I'm not very good at explaining things after I've had a few. It's when I've had more than a few that I start rambling. Here..." For a commoner, he had very smooth strokes of the hand, making what she would find out was a map in a lavish style of sweeping black ink. Po took only a brief minute with his map, and though it was basic it was certainly better than nothing. On second glance, it attributed a lot of various obstacles and pathways before her. He moved his chair closer to hers, setting down and sliding the map between. "Ok so...we're here...and we'll be moving north..." His finger traced over a path that broke through what was a heavily wooded area, passed a bog and astride a few smaller mountains to what looked to be riverlands. "The last I heard of any water temple, it was actually pretty close to where I think we're going. Orek knows the path far better than me, but he probably can't help with your temple. I'm pretty sure it's supposed to be northeast of where the fabled rings are." He turned and looked at her to gauge if she found his advice helpful. "I also hear the doors to the place are locked by some spell, but who knows what's really going on there? Maybe you'll find something to help you where we're headed?"</s> <\|message\|>Name The tavern halted. The low music and the clinking of glass were the only sounds that graced the room after Cillian had spoken. It seemed his story and way with words left the room in rapt-fascination, and to anyone it would have been comical to look at the two patrons that he was speaking to. Calvin had wide eyes, looking to and fro between Cillian and Saskia to see what his companion thought. For her part, Saskia looked equal parts impressed, dumbfounded, and a little weirded out. "Um..." She began. "No, not me." Calvin said, waving his hands and shaking his head. "I'm just a city boy." "I've been there." Saskia nodded, clearing her throat. "Not for very long, but I've had to travel through there once with a caravan. Ran into a few beasts that I'd rather not run into again. Were you wanting to know what lies west of here? I could regaile you myself but..." She raised an eyebrow, a hand with tantilizing fingers curling toward's Cillian. "my memory is a little fuzzy...maybe a silver Lordling could listen my lips?" "Two silver lordlings?" Calvin piped in with a wink. Saskia elbowed him gently, but not too gently. She glared at him. "I have the information, I'm the one getting a lordling. He's a smart man, yes?" Her last sentence had her looking back at him, lips curved into a smile. "Information is my trade. I may lie, but never when I do business." Charm roll from Saskia: 4+2=6. You can contest and roll willpower if you so choose. Or you can trust her.</s>	<\|message\|>Torsten Meier The sunlight cut through the forest like a razor sharp sword pierces one's torso. The pain in Torsten's side had improved. It wasn't as bad as he anticipated, but he'd been injured before and the pain was tolerable. He knew he was lucky to be alive and knew he needed to keep moving. He figured he would be healed in a day or two; hopefully. Breakfast was decent. Oz caught some rabbit and the three sucked on the juicy bits. Torsten inhaled his portion as he was quite famished. Lord knows he needed the protein in the meat. After sterilizing the campsite as best they could, they ventured further to the south in order to continue their trek into the unknown. Conversation was light, about nothing in particular. They focused more on the sights and sounds of the forest around them. Their hunter's ears were tuned in and didn't want to be surprised. Torsten took the trail slot in the column as Oz, the largest took center. He allows the lighter Ulf Gunnerson or Wolf to take the point. Wolf was an agile hunter, quick on his feet. He would be able to evade an attack faster than the others. Torsten removed his bow, notched an arrow and prepared for whatever might present itself upon the trail ahead. It didn't take long for a situation to appear. A scream of sorts erupted in their ears. All three men prepared for a battle, not knowing what was coming. It just didn't sound like the orcs they dealt with the day prior. Oz removed the 5' 6" two-handed sword from its scabbard and held it at the ready on his right side. He was prepared to bring pain upon any foe who threatened him. Wolf removed his shield from his back, securing it to his left arm and a small sword in his right. He held the left side of the trail. Between the two and three steps to the rear was Torsten with his bow up and read to draw. The odd fellow stumbling over the undergrowth in front of them was more bulbous than sinewy. All three men breathed a sigh of relief realizing they would not have to kill this one. The man was in a panic paying more attention to the auburn-haired young woman chasing him. Her hair was cut short, more like a man, than a woman, Oz thought. Torsten found her mildly attractive and Wolf wondered how quickly he could dispatch both to the underworld. "Stop!" Torsten yelled at the pair, who seemingly halted all movement, freezing in their steps looking up at the trio of northerners who barred their path. "What are you doing here?!"</s>
<\|description\|>Torsten Meier Norgardian \| 31 \| Male Appearance Torsten is a lean, wiry man who stands just under six feet at 5' 11 ¾" (182 cm). The Norgardian raider's features have always been somewhat dark or sullen. He is the type of person to stay to himself, seemingly lost in thought. Torsten is attracted to women who feel the need to fix a man because the lonesome huntsman appears to be in need of repair. He doesn't, but she would feel the need to fix him. He is not unattractive. His armor is made up of bits of leather or studded leather with a lamellar brigandine formed of small steel plates covered in leather. His armor is often covered by furs and a grey cloak. Torsten does not look like an imposing figure, but his agility and quickness on his feet make him a deadly match one on one. Personality Torsten was often considered a recluse by those who knew him. His seemingly quiet demeanor, when provoked leads towards outbursts of anger. Although, he is not the type to strike with a powerful fist, he can turn a fight to his advantage quickly and bring a larger man down with rapid successive blows to vital body parts. For the most part he is cool and collected. Insulting his Northern heritage or betraying his trust will get the hackles up for him. Then you know you are in trouble. Background Sailor/Raider Huntsman/Tracker Comes from a long line of hunters/raiders. History Torsten was raised near the coast living off the bounty of the sea. While most men in the village trawled the sea in search of their catch, his father along with a small group of others, hunted the forests for stags and other game to eat. From an early age, Torsten learned to track animals as well as men. His father taught him to read signs on the ground as well as snif the air and listen for clues as what was going on around him; where his prey was waiting, feeding, ready to die. As a young man, Torsten was compelled to leave the village on a quest of manhood. It was the right, nay obligation of every male to suffer trials towards becoming a man. Armed only with a small blade, a dagger, Torsten was cast from the village until he completed his trials. Only he would know when the trials were complete and then he could return to his home. He went into the mountains during the first snow of the season. An old hunting cabin, badly in need of repair atop a wind swept hill. He made this hovel his home during his trials. The pangs of hunger took him first, forcing him to hunt. He fashioned a bow out of hickory and hemp. He shaped the wood with his dagger, making notches at both ends for the string, manufactured out of dried hemp. It was strong and could withstand the pull of the bow. Satisfied with the pull of his bow, he manufactured arrows out of the same hickory with eagle feathers to guide them. He crafted at least a few dozen to use on his prey. The first night in the woods, he did not eat. He spent that day preparing his home and his tools. He was hungry. The sensation gnawed on him. He would eat the next day…or be eaten. The forest now covered in snow, he tracked a heavy stag. He could tell its weight, by the depths of the footprints. He knew he was close, but was he alone? A howling wolf answered his question. There were definitely other predators in forest. The pack moved in close. They did not want this intruder to steal their meal. They circled him baring their teeth, snarling and growling. A few yaps and barks. Torsten kept his eyes on the pack--five wolves, four of whom were grey. With an arrow notched, he loosed one at the largest; possibly the alpha who whined loudly with a yalp and dropped back a few yards. The one to his left charged Torsten who had no time to notch another arrow. He dropped the bow, took a few steps back, steeling himself for the beast to leap. The beast hurled himself forward off his strong haunches, teeth bared ready to kill. The dog impaled himself on Torsten's unsheathed knife. He used his left hand to keep the dog from biting his face. A third and fourth wolf charged at him as he backed up to a standing position. He swung his small blade at the two wolves who hesitated, rather than attack. They took a second thought running off into the trees along with the fifth, an albino with red eyes, who chose only to stand and watch the events unfold. It was as though she was gathering intelligence on a potential enemy. She obviously felt respect was warranted with this hunter. By the springtime, Torsten returned to his village a man, wearing pelts he took from beasts. His first beard covered his chin and face, eventually to be shaven off. His trials were successfully completed, and he was welcomed back into the village. The villagers feasted his accomplishment and then returned to their work after a week of revelry. Eventually, Torsten Meier chose it was best for him to leave the small fishing village. His personal quest was seeking wealth and adventure ever since. That was five years ago. Motivation To continue his quest for adventure and wealth. His private greed and quest for something he felt missing in his soul drove him. If the task is worth it, he will accept an employment offer. Capabilities Attributes Combat [1/1] * One Handed Sword: 0 * One Handed Cleaving: 1 * Dual Wielding: 0 * Archery: 1 * Unarmed: 1 Intelligence [1/1] * Bestiary: 2 * Legendary: 1 Charisma [1/1] * * * Health [1/1] * Strength: 1 * Stamina: 1 * Cold Resistance: 0 Faculties [1/1] * Perception: 1 * Tracking: 1 * Willpower: 0 * Woodcraft: 1 Agility [1/1] * Run: 1 * Balance: 1 * Outdoor Climbing: 0 * Ride: 0 Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * Lammellar Brigandine Armor * High soft leather boots * Studded leather vambraces * Leather greaves and paulders * Furs & grey cloak * handcrafted bow and a quiver of arrows * hand axe * shortsword * knife/dagger * pack containing some food and other essentials. * pouch containing his coins, mentioned below. Money 3 Royals (Gold) 5 Lordlings (Silver) 79 Commons (Copper) Languages Northern & Grim Northern</s> <\|message\|>Name 2/8, the branch hits the Gundarog The Gundarog had loped in her direction haphazardly like a frightened, unagile ape. A credit to its race, it still would have been hard to spot by human eyes once it left the brief glimpse of sunlight. No wonder these creatures of the underworld had found a safehaven in a forest like the Blackwood. However, the thing was certainly not expecting to find a Dorcha even in the forest of shadows. It nearly tumbled over the ground before catching itself, and once its eyes fell on Aeryn, it quelled at the very sudden new threat before it. That was, until the branch hit its head and knocked it out. Meanwhile, the massive Wolf was sniffing the ground a bit as it chewed on its second meal. It seemed to have gotten a hold of its impulses for food, pawing at the ground as it finished what flesh was in its mouth. Already it had dug through the shoddy armor of the Gundarog it had killed, its entire torso and head now within the beast's gullet. Suddenly, behind the thing, two wolf pups slunk out of the brush. They were clearly very young, even though they were nearly the size of your average guard dog. One bounded into view while the other moved mischievously, eyeing the forest around it for anything curious. What was left of the first Gundarog, they began to nip and pick at, clearly wishing for a different kind of meat but not about to complain when they're filling their bellies. Aeryn had the opportunity to check the Gundarog's pockets and knapsack as it lay there, out cold. If she wished she could kill it, or she could awaken it or take it with her. While she deliberated, she would pick up another sound from her sensitive ears. A voice, obviously male and pleasant to the ear somewhere behind her. Not very close, within a mile at least and drawing closer in a fashion. Clearly walking toward past their location, but would they come close enough to attract the wolves? At the current moment, the mother wolf was too preoccupied with her whining pups, the soft grunts and whistles they made causing her to perk her lupin ears as she licked them. Decisions, decisions...</s> <\|message\|>Name Alyana had a dazzling smile, letting the three men introduce themselves in their fashion and giving them a personal greeting each time. She shook hands with whoever allowed it and patted Oz on the shoulder, clearly enjoying his shyness. From what little she said, she seemed a well traveled woman. She would have had to be, being out in the middle of the Blackwood with naught but a crazed merchant for company. The women straightened her belt, as it was laden with traveling items like a seax and sacks of food and maybe even coin, and she began to walk with the men. "Norgardians? You're far from your homeland." She remarked, leading them southwest. Or was it northeast? No, they came from the north. Even now the Blackwood seemed to swallow up any sense of direction, much like some of the more enchanted forests in Torsten's homeland where village elders warned naughty children to keep in bed at night or something from within would sneak into any norgardian village and snatch them away. In fact, the three warriors might have passed through such forests in the north, and yet this one seemed even dimmer in hope than those beast infested places. "Then again, I suppose Andred is the next region south unless you count the marches Bania claims as its own." She had a peculiar accent that Torsten might need to think on, as it was subtle and not Andredian in its inflection. She smirked once Oz lifted up the merchant, though she seemed impressed with the big man's strength. "Sorry about him." She said earnestly, and then perked up once Torsten asked about her father. Alyana chuckled. "Oh, I don't expect you to have heard of him. He's a merchant, though thankfully not like this one. I just figured you Norgardians introduced yourselves by stating who your father was. Maybe I am stereotyping." Despite the gloom of the forest, the next few miles weren't dangerous to the four travelers and their fat man baggage. They made good time, and before the hour was up the forest began to thin for a short few paces before it disappeared entirely, and they found themselves at the edge of a vast clearing. Not large enough to be called' grasslands,' it was a very, very vast field. At the center of it was something Torsten likely had no seen before. The hollowed stump of a tree, the tree in question being large enough to hold a village of giants, or in this case, a sizeable town of humans. The entrance was a carved archway, and was well lit in the fading sun. If it weren't for the lights and the guardsmen standing before the entrance, it would have seen like an abandoned carcass of an old world wonder. As it was, they saw people walking into the entrance just as they crested the line of trees. "Oakhallow." Alyana said simply. "I hope you boys have some money, or you'll be sleeping under the stars tonight. Unless you find the forest more accommodating."</s>	<\|message\|>Torsten Meier There was something like Alanya that piqued Torsten's interest. She oozed a certain charismatic flair that instantly made her a friend to their trio. He forgot about how or why she was with them. Seeing the lump of flesh on Oz' shoulder did remind him occasionally during their walk. "Yes, we are definitely Norgardians and we are definitely far from home." Torsten felt no problem with allowing Alanya know where their homeland was. "We've traveled extensively on the sea, but occasionally find the opportunity to travel over land. It appears we are in that situation now." Torsten looked at Wolf, "what direction?" Wolf looked up and at the rocks and trees. "South?" the man responded. "We are definitely traveling southwest," Torsten offered. "South is close to Southwest," Wolf defended his response. "You're right, my brother. The trail does arc back to the south on occasion too." Torsten listened to Alanya as they walked along the path. Her accent was one he was familiar with. He had heard it before on one of his voyages, but just couldn't place it. Maybe if he thought about it for a while longer, it would come to him. "Where are you from, Alanya?" Maybe it was her speech patterns, voice inflection, her looks, or chemistry. He found himself slowly being attracted to the woman. He did not understand the feeling. In fact, he pushed himself away in his mind, refusing to admit the feeling to himself. He didn't have time for such frivolity. "Pardon me, my father was a hunter and a tracker like me. We excelled in finding people or game and bringing food from the forest back into the village." Torsten considered what she said. "That custom is true with some villages, but not all," Torsten smiled at her. It took Torsten time to process what he was looking at when they finally cleared the forest. "You know, at firt glance, that looks like the stump of a tree felled years ago, but it can't be. It circles a town. Is that Oakhollow?" Torsten then thought about the name of the town and realized yes! The tree was an Oak and now it is hollow. Oz laughed a hearty laugh, with the fat man bouncing on his shoulder as he laughed. "Oak Hollow!" The big man bellowed out a huge laugh. The party approached the archway in the side of the tree trunk or town. The group was impressed with the etchings, carvings in the wood. "Beautiful," Wolf allowed in a low tone, commenting on the size and design of the town's exterior. "Hopefully, the fee for a room isn't too expensive. We should be able to cover it." Torsten smiled at Alanya. "Thanks for leading us here. It has been quite some time since we have seen civilization." Torsten paused and remembered the fat man. "Oh!? Where do you want this one?"</s>
<\|description\|>Rui Tomoe Age: 17 Equipment: Barioth Armor, Ambertusk Saber Kinbeast: Druk (Fulgur Anjanath, Dragon element) About: A kind lass born and raised in the Silvergale Mountains, Rui always seemed to have a strong intuition when it came to monsters, especially Kinbeasts. Be it a humble Anteka or a mighty Gammoth, she always knew how to read a monster's body language and behavior. Several years ago, while searching the mountains for herbs, Rui was attacked by a Barioth. The monster behaved strangely, and it appeared to be sick and deranged. After a long battle, Rui slew the Barioth... but not before the monster had killed her Kinbeast. Rui immediately returned to her village for help, and was bedridden for weeks afterward. The body of the Barioth was thoroughly examined by researchers from the Guild, who determined that the monster had been affected by a virus of unknown origin. While the body of the Barioth and her Kinbeast were destroyed to prevent potential spread, the Riders Guild compensated Rui for her trouble. However, the bond between Rider and Kinbeast is a strong one, and it was almost a year before Rui found the will to seek out another Kinbeast. By sheer luck, the girl stumbled on an abandoned nest raided by predators, save for a single egg. When the egg finally hatched, she was more than a little surprised at the birth: a relatively rare monster, a Fulgur Anjanath. Though she was hesitant to get attached to this new partner, the little wyvern's bravery and loyalty won Rui over. Afterwards, she began helping to train younger Riders. Several weeks ago, she received a summons from the Guild, and she and Tekis headed south to the capital city of Milasai.</s> <\|message\|>Monster List 1- Central Redan The largest of the isles, Central Redan is primarily forests and grassland. However, there are mountains, tundras, deserts, and even a massive swamp. The largest population of Riders lives here. The two largest settlements are Gynycon (1) in the Northern Steppes, Silverridge (2) in the Silvergale Mountains, Inteca (3 in the Junidan Rain Forest, Milasai (5) in the Southern Plains, Oasys (6) and Azo (7) in the Bara Magna Desert; very few Riders live near the Boglands, though there are stories of bandits living and hiding in the unforgiving swamps. 2- Western Redan A harsh, volcanic island with an active volcano, Western Revan only has a single settlement, known as Geo-Harth (4). Though the western side of the island is quite fertile, most of the residents of Western Redan are miners. 3- Eastern Redan Though the island itself is largely uninhabited by Riders, the floating village of New Tanzia (8) sustains itself through fishing and trading with the other cities. Eastern Redan is primarily composed of woodland and wetland, and is home to a variety of species, including Leviathans. 4- Harsheon Uniquely among the Omna Isles, the currents of Harsheon well up from a nearby trench, bringing an abundance of deceased sea life to the western side of the island, known simply as the Boneyard. Many monsters here are adapted to scavenging for survival, and will attack nearly anything that intrudes on their territory. Situated in the center of the island is Frebo (9), a unique village whose people specialize in searching for old relics and hunting, taming, and training aquatic monsters. 5- Belga Isle A small island in the south, very few Riders make their home on Belga. However, it is home to many Lynians, including Grimalkyne, Felynes and Melynx, and Gajalaka. Though similar in climate to other parts of the Omna Isles, it is home to many dangerous monsters. 6- Elion The easternmost of the isles, Elion is often ravaged by powerful storms. Because of this, few Riders live here, and those that do must be tough to survive both the storms and the monsters that live here. 7- Misty Nest The southernmost of the Omna Isles, the Misty Nest has seldom been explored on account of being home to many rare and powerful monsters, as well as the island perpetually being shrouded in fog. Though unconfirmed, rumors abound that the Nest is home at least part of the year to Elder Dragons. 8- The Northern Isles Largely uninhabited save some small outposts managed by, the Northern Isles are filled with many ruins and artifacts from an ancient civilization. 9- The Ancients' Tower Surrounded by a near-impenetrable storm, very few have ever made it to the Ancients' Tower. Reports state that the massive structure is home to a variety of monsters, including Elder Dragons.</s> <\|message\|>Rui Tomoe --- The City of Milasai This was the first time that Rui had ever been to the capitol. People and every type of Kinbeast made their way through the streets. However, many were giving them a wide berth. It was easy to tell by her armor and gear that Rui wasn't from anywhere near Milasai. And she couldn't fault the Herbivores, like Aptonoth and Kestodon, for being skittish around a monster that was a natural predator. But having undergone the Rite of Channeling enough to change a Kinbeast's element was uncommon. And transferring enough genetic information to change any Kinbeast's element to Dragon was difficult. As a side effect of the process, the Fulgur Anjanath's body had taken on new colors. The normally orange-and-white scales on his body had taken on a crimson hue, and the fur-like feathers across his body had blackened. Though not visible now, his fins and nasal crest would glow with dark red once angered. But Rui didn't mind. She knew that, despite Druk's fierce appearance, he was a sweetheart. Until you threatened Rui, anyway. Then all bets were off. She was here for a reason. In her bag was the summons from the Riders' Guild. It took some asking the locals, but she eventually found her way to the Riders' Guild HQ. Passing through the gate, she could see other Riders coming and going, or even just standing around and chatting. Rui dismounted, and lead Druk to the stables. After speaking with a stablehand and giving him about 200 zenny to take care of Druk, she made her way inside. The Guildhall was packed with humans and Palicos, as well as the odd Wyverian, Troverian, and Grimalkyne. At the reception counter, she was greeted by a young woman who smiled cheerfully. "Welcome to the Milasai Rider's Guild," she said. "How can I help you?" Rui dug into her bag and presented the letter. "Oh, so you were summoned by the Guildmaster. Right this way." She put up a sign on the desk that read, "Temporarily closed. We appreciate your patience." The young woman lead Rui up a flight of stairs. "So, Miss Tomoe, you've come a long way." "Please, call me Rui," she insisted. "Ah. My name's Artemia. It's nice to meet you." She gave another smile. The sounds of the main hall faded away until they came to a large, intricate door. Artemia banged her fist against the thick wood, and the deep, booming sounds caught Rui off guard. Clearly she was a lot stronger than she looked. Without waiting for a response, Artemia opened the door and ushered Rui inside. It was simple, but Rui could appreciate it. But all of the books! Rui had never seen so many in one place. "You're supposed to wait for someone to answer the door, Artemia." Rui looked up the balcony to see a Wyverian woman looking down at them, an open book in hand. "Never know if you're absorbed in your research," Artemia chuckled. "Anyways, this is Miss Rui Tomoe." "Thank you. We're waiting on two more for the time being." The woman closed her book and made her way to the ground floor.</s> <\|message\|>Katya Milyan As far as the capital city went, it certainly made Katya miss the open fields and valleys around her home village. There were too many people, not enough space, and the bustle and noise was something she wasn't quite pleased to be around. How one could want to live in a place like this was beyond her. City life would never be for her, though. It was a given from the moment she first started going out into the wilds with her father in search of herbs for his medicines. There was nothing more appealing than being out in the wilds, testing her survival skills against the wilderness - especially not after raising Vasha. The way some of the citizens and, certainly the monsters, in the city shifted away when the black furred beauty - at least, until she'd undergone the Rite of Channeling to imbue Vasha with the element of Thunder and marking the black fur with streaks of near white gold - that was her nargacuga. She was kinda proud he stirred unsettling reactions out of the others. Probably not the best mindset for a rider but, then - she didn't just learn about raising and training monsties. She wore her armor and weapons proudly, unashamed of the tale it told others. But making the content city-dwellers uneasy wasn't the reason she was here. She had a summons burning a hole in her satchel and she was determined to get it over with and back out to the wilds before Vasha got as restless in the city as she felt. It only took a bit of negotiating their way through the city before she finally spotted the guild off in the distance. Quite a few other riders and beasts, most oblivious to yet another powerful monstie showing up in their midst, stood or moved around the courtyard. She'd considered having Vasha just come inside with her, but surely that was frowned on. It wasn't like anyone back in her village liked such a large monstie following her into buildings there either. So, for an outrageous 200 zenny, she got him stabled and headed inside. Soon enough, Katya was shown to a large ornate set of doors before a few loud knocks proceeded them being opened and her gestured to join the others in. After a second to look around and inwardly cringe at the amount of books surrounding her, the rider's gaze locked on the two others in the room. "Right, so I'm Katya Milyan - got a summons - " which she produced from her satchel - "and was directed to this room. Are we waiting for more or can we get the meeting on and over with?" She rolled her shoulder while looking around the room again. "Place is too cramped."</s>	<\|message\|>Rui Tomoe Rui gave the newcomer a quick inspection. Armor was a good indicator of a Rider's level of skill, and this Katya apparently had enough skill to go to-toe-claw with an Ebony Odogaron. Her words and tone made her come off as rough around the edges. The Guildmaster gave a slight frown at Katya's words. "I prefer 'cozy'," she said flatly. "And yes, we are waiting on--" The door opened again, and another Wyverian woman came in. Adorned in light armor and a wide-brimmed hat, all colored a rich shade of red, she looked quite professional... until she spoke, anyway. "How's my favorite sister?" she asked, a wide grin crossing her face. "I'm your only sister," the Guildmaster replied. Her tone had a hint of irritation to it. Artemia playfully pouted. "What, no love for me, Hana?" Hana chuckled, ruffling Artemia's hair. "You have to wait your turn." The Guildmaster gave a sigh, as if she'd done this a million times before. "At least try to act like we're here for something serious, Hana." She turned her attention to the two Riders. "Now that we're all here, we can start. "Welcome to Milasai, Riders. My name is Lieren, the Guildmaster of Central Redan, as well as the head of the Omna Isles Council. I apologize for not being able to explain why you were summoned in the letter, but for the time being, we're being cautious."</s>
<\|description\|>Katya Milyan Age: 18 Equipment: Odogaron (ebony) Armor and Blood-Drinker Chainblade Current Kinbeast: Vasha (Nargacuga, Thunder Element) About: Sometimes impulsive and brash, Katya's mouth often gets her in more trouble than her fiery temper. She takes after her mother in much those same ways. Her mother was a Hunter, part of the Research Commission that crashed onto Omna Island. As she came to terms with the way the people on Omna lived in harmony with the wyvern that lived there, she tried to learn the ways of the riders - to hatch a companion and understand it. But that just wasn't her way, until she fell for a herbalist that had a Tigrex named Lorel that helped protect him when he'd venture outside the village for supplies. Katya never really learned patience enough to hatch eggs of her own young. It wasn't something she learned the patience to do for a while. Instead, she inherited her mother's gear and was taught a lot of hunting skills like tracking, trapping, and even combat reflexes to make her skilled enough to avoid attacks from wyvern. She stood a stark contrast to others her age from the village in Ocean's Meadow - a grassland with a view of the southern coast - but didn't let herself get deterred because she wasn't a rider. She often accompanied her father on his trips to get herbs and whatnot for his shop, working with Lorel to help keep her father safe. It was this level of training that helped her learn to quell the fire within, and to come to an almost harmony with the wyvern partners they could raise. When she was fifteen, Lorel and she helped stave off an attack by a Nargacuga. When the beast retreated, she followed it back to it's nest. Rather than kill the injured beast, she stole one of its eggs and finally understood the importance of patience; with her father's guidance, when the egg hatched, she had a Nargacuga of her own. In getting a monstie of her own, and raising it to be as fierce as she was, she and it took commission with the local Rider's guild to help keep an eye on the surrounding fields and forests. It lead to them finding strange happenings, and even stranger - monsters in the grasslands and forests that didn't belong there, and monsters she's seen before acting strangely. After narrowly avoiding an attack from one such monster and reporting back, she received a summons of her own and headed north to the capital city of Milasai.</s> <\|message\|>Monster List 1- Central Redan The largest of the isles, Central Redan is primarily forests and grassland. However, there are mountains, tundras, deserts, and even a massive swamp. The largest population of Riders lives here. The two largest settlements are Gynycon (1) in the Northern Steppes, Silverridge (2) in the Silvergale Mountains, Inteca (3 in the Junidan Rain Forest, Milasai (5) in the Southern Plains, Oasys (6) and Azo (7) in the Bara Magna Desert; very few Riders live near the Boglands, though there are stories of bandits living and hiding in the unforgiving swamps. 2- Western Redan A harsh, volcanic island with an active volcano, Western Revan only has a single settlement, known as Geo-Harth (4). Though the western side of the island is quite fertile, most of the residents of Western Redan are miners. 3- Eastern Redan Though the island itself is largely uninhabited by Riders, the floating village of New Tanzia (8) sustains itself through fishing and trading with the other cities. Eastern Redan is primarily composed of woodland and wetland, and is home to a variety of species, including Leviathans. 4- Harsheon Uniquely among the Omna Isles, the currents of Harsheon well up from a nearby trench, bringing an abundance of deceased sea life to the western side of the island, known simply as the Boneyard. Many monsters here are adapted to scavenging for survival, and will attack nearly anything that intrudes on their territory. Situated in the center of the island is Frebo (9), a unique village whose people specialize in searching for old relics and hunting, taming, and training aquatic monsters. 5- Belga Isle A small island in the south, very few Riders make their home on Belga. However, it is home to many Lynians, including Grimalkyne, Felynes and Melynx, and Gajalaka. Though similar in climate to other parts of the Omna Isles, it is home to many dangerous monsters. 6- Elion The easternmost of the isles, Elion is often ravaged by powerful storms. Because of this, few Riders live here, and those that do must be tough to survive both the storms and the monsters that live here. 7- Misty Nest The southernmost of the Omna Isles, the Misty Nest has seldom been explored on account of being home to many rare and powerful monsters, as well as the island perpetually being shrouded in fog. Though unconfirmed, rumors abound that the Nest is home at least part of the year to Elder Dragons. 8- The Northern Isles Largely uninhabited save some small outposts managed by, the Northern Isles are filled with many ruins and artifacts from an ancient civilization. 9- The Ancients' Tower Surrounded by a near-impenetrable storm, very few have ever made it to the Ancients' Tower. Reports state that the massive structure is home to a variety of monsters, including Elder Dragons.</s> <\|message\|>Rui Tomoe --- The City of Milasai This was the first time that Rui had ever been to the capitol. People and every type of Kinbeast made their way through the streets. However, many were giving them a wide berth. It was easy to tell by her armor and gear that Rui wasn't from anywhere near Milasai. And she couldn't fault the Herbivores, like Aptonoth and Kestodon, for being skittish around a monster that was a natural predator. But having undergone the Rite of Channeling enough to change a Kinbeast's element was uncommon. And transferring enough genetic information to change any Kinbeast's element to Dragon was difficult. As a side effect of the process, the Fulgur Anjanath's body had taken on new colors. The normally orange-and-white scales on his body had taken on a crimson hue, and the fur-like feathers across his body had blackened. Though not visible now, his fins and nasal crest would glow with dark red once angered. But Rui didn't mind. She knew that, despite Druk's fierce appearance, he was a sweetheart. Until you threatened Rui, anyway. Then all bets were off. She was here for a reason. In her bag was the summons from the Riders' Guild. It took some asking the locals, but she eventually found her way to the Riders' Guild HQ. Passing through the gate, she could see other Riders coming and going, or even just standing around and chatting. Rui dismounted, and lead Druk to the stables. After speaking with a stablehand and giving him about 200 zenny to take care of Druk, she made her way inside. The Guildhall was packed with humans and Palicos, as well as the odd Wyverian, Troverian, and Grimalkyne. At the reception counter, she was greeted by a young woman who smiled cheerfully. "Welcome to the Milasai Rider's Guild," she said. "How can I help you?" Rui dug into her bag and presented the letter. "Oh, so you were summoned by the Guildmaster. Right this way." She put up a sign on the desk that read, "Temporarily closed. We appreciate your patience." The young woman lead Rui up a flight of stairs. "So, Miss Tomoe, you've come a long way." "Please, call me Rui," she insisted. "Ah. My name's Artemia. It's nice to meet you." She gave another smile. The sounds of the main hall faded away until they came to a large, intricate door. Artemia banged her fist against the thick wood, and the deep, booming sounds caught Rui off guard. Clearly she was a lot stronger than she looked. Without waiting for a response, Artemia opened the door and ushered Rui inside. It was simple, but Rui could appreciate it. But all of the books! Rui had never seen so many in one place. "You're supposed to wait for someone to answer the door, Artemia." Rui looked up the balcony to see a Wyverian woman looking down at them, an open book in hand. "Never know if you're absorbed in your research," Artemia chuckled. "Anyways, this is Miss Rui Tomoe." "Thank you. We're waiting on two more for the time being." The woman closed her book and made her way to the ground floor.</s> <\|message\|>Katya Milyan As far as the capital city went, it certainly made Katya miss the open fields and valleys around her home village. There were too many people, not enough space, and the bustle and noise was something she wasn't quite pleased to be around. How one could want to live in a place like this was beyond her. City life would never be for her, though. It was a given from the moment she first started going out into the wilds with her father in search of herbs for his medicines. There was nothing more appealing than being out in the wilds, testing her survival skills against the wilderness - especially not after raising Vasha. The way some of the citizens and, certainly the monsters, in the city shifted away when the black furred beauty - at least, until she'd undergone the Rite of Channeling to imbue Vasha with the element of Thunder and marking the black fur with streaks of near white gold - that was her nargacuga. She was kinda proud he stirred unsettling reactions out of the others. Probably not the best mindset for a rider but, then - she didn't just learn about raising and training monsties. She wore her armor and weapons proudly, unashamed of the tale it told others. But making the content city-dwellers uneasy wasn't the reason she was here. She had a summons burning a hole in her satchel and she was determined to get it over with and back out to the wilds before Vasha got as restless in the city as she felt. It only took a bit of negotiating their way through the city before she finally spotted the guild off in the distance. Quite a few other riders and beasts, most oblivious to yet another powerful monstie showing up in their midst, stood or moved around the courtyard. She'd considered having Vasha just come inside with her, but surely that was frowned on. It wasn't like anyone back in her village liked such a large monstie following her into buildings there either. So, for an outrageous 200 zenny, she got him stabled and headed inside. Soon enough, Katya was shown to a large ornate set of doors before a few loud knocks proceeded them being opened and her gestured to join the others in. After a second to look around and inwardly cringe at the amount of books surrounding her, the rider's gaze locked on the two others in the room. "Right, so I'm Katya Milyan - got a summons - " which she produced from her satchel - "and was directed to this room. Are we waiting for more or can we get the meeting on and over with?" She rolled her shoulder while looking around the room again. "Place is too cramped."</s> <\|message\|>Rui Tomoe Rui gave the newcomer a quick inspection. Armor was a good indicator of a Rider's level of skill, and this Katya apparently had enough skill to go to-toe-claw with an Ebony Odogaron. Her words and tone made her come off as rough around the edges. The Guildmaster gave a slight frown at Katya's words. "I prefer 'cozy'," she said flatly. "And yes, we are waiting on--" The door opened again, and another Wyverian woman came in. Adorned in light armor and a wide-brimmed hat, all colored a rich shade of red, she looked quite professional... until she spoke, anyway. "How's my favorite sister?" she asked, a wide grin crossing her face. "I'm your only sister," the Guildmaster replied. Her tone had a hint of irritation to it. Artemia playfully pouted. "What, no love for me, Hana?" Hana chuckled, ruffling Artemia's hair. "You have to wait your turn." The Guildmaster gave a sigh, as if she'd done this a million times before. "At least try to act like we're here for something serious, Hana." She turned her attention to the two Riders. "Now that we're all here, we can start. "Welcome to Milasai, Riders. My name is Lieren, the Guildmaster of Central Redan, as well as the head of the Omna Isles Council. I apologize for not being able to explain why you were summoned in the letter, but for the time being, we're being cautious."</s>	<\|message\|>Katya Milyan Cozy? Bah! Cramped was perfectly apt. Besides, who the hell wanted this many books? Do nothing readers, clearly. Cozy was a lean-to with a campfire burning just outside it. Cozy was a place that could be seen to be bigger than what you could move in because of the items strewn about. This...this was claustrophobia inducing. But the party grew and Katya kept the further belittlement of the space to herself. Her attention turned from the Guildmaster she supposed she should be more polite to, to the other woman standing in the hall, then the new Wyverian woman that entered. She certainly didn't hold herself like some stuffy administrator type. If she was part of what drove them together, and if Katya had to put up with yet another weight to carry in among the weird happenings of the land right now, at least she seemed capable. "Cautious of what?" Katya perked a brow, crossing her arms and shifting her weight to one foot. "Look, I get it, there's formalities, but those are for times when there isn't weird shit happening around us, yeah? So maybe we can all just cut to the chase?"</s>
<\|description\|>Lucas Hanson Age: 40 Gender: Male Species: Human Occupation: Bar owner Personality: A bit rough around the edges given his background. Lucas doesn't take crap from anyone and will happily knock you out for stepping out of line. With that said, he's tough, but fair. Given his progression, Lucas is quite comfortable interacting with the general crowd, though he has absolutely 0 patience for nonsense. Lucas' mind isn't easily changed, and that's led to failed relationships in the past. But does he care? No, not really. Appearance: Approximately 6'2 with a strong build. His salt and pepper beard game is strong, every once in a while turning heads whenever he's out and about. Lucas has full sleeves with tattoos that are very symbolic to him, and he's happy to tell the stories if anyone is curious enough to inquire. Lucas' typical, everyday fashion? A t-shirt and jeans. History: Born and raised into trouble, Lucas practically never caught a break. His parents lived in New York City at the time, raising him in Staten Island. Throughout his time there, he's been robbed, beat, you name it. Lucas had to grow up real quick in order to survive, something he figured out from experience as well as from the many sit-downs he had had with his parents. The incident that broke the family was the death of Lucas' little sister, Lily. It happened when she was only 7 and Lucas was 13. They were walking down the road one moment and the next, gunfire broke through the air. Unfortunately, Lily caught 2 bullets, which was later discovered were not meant for her but she was a casualty nonetheless. From that point on, Lucas was never the same. His behavior took a turn for the worse, leaving his own parents terrified of him at some point. The kid was out of control, and no matter how many times he was thrown in jail, Lucas simply did not care. But slowly, things improved a little bit. Lucas realized he couldn't continue heading down that same path. There's that, and the fact that he had to become a softy for his first girlfriend who didn't tolerate any BS from him. While the guy was not academically inclined, he had some wits about him and enjoyed doing manual labor as opposed to sitting in a college classroom. How did Lucas end up in Vinehurst? Well, his elderly grandfather became sick and Lucas decided to move to town to be with him. He's lived there for 3 years now and is not in a hurry to go back to the city.</s> <\|message\|>Anthony Beck 32 / Male / Alpha Location: The village Tags: Open The late September sun broke through the thick canopy of trees and shined down onto the peaceful little settlement. It was quiet today. It was still warm enough in the season that some of the pack may be at the lake for a swim. Or maybe they were in town. Jude didn't keep that close an eye on them. They were all grown. Surely he could let them have free reign without worrying about them like a helicopter parent. He, meanwhile, was hard at work. One of the cabins on the property had been damaged in a late season storm, and he was in charge of putting it back together. His bandsaw buzzed as he sawed lumber down to size. His hammering had scared off most of the birds, so the racket made up a majority of the sounds to be heard. He'd had to haul a tree off the cabin's roof, then used it to make the new wood to replaced the old. His wolf form came in handy for moving fallen trees, seeing as they didn't own any oxen. He was the next best thing. With sweat pouring down his face, Jude sat on a nearby log to guzzle some water, then look over his work. The outside walls were looking good. They just needed some weather treatment and some stain, and they'd be done. The roof came next. Maybe he'd work on that tomorrow. After all, his schedule was pretty clear. He didn't have a job in town, as keeping the pack together and their village in shape was a full time job of it's own. And surely nothing would happen between now and then that would delay his progress. 31 / Male / Hunter Location: In town Tags: Open A red corvette blew down the highway towards town. The souped up engine purred as it's occupant paid as little attention to the road as possible. He was busy looking at his phone, dialing a familiar number: his assistant for this hunt. The phone began to ring, and he put it to his ear. It rang, and rang, and rang...Finally, it went to voicemail. "Quit jerking off and get your ass over here. I lost you twenty minutes ago, where the hell are you?!" His voice sounded like he'd gargled with gravel. A scar across his throat that looked suspiciously like claw marks might have had something to do with that. Anthony was nothing if not a survivor. Against all odds, he'd beat out werewolves and vampires alike, and slammed the door in death's face several times. He was like a roach infestation: nasty, and particularly hard to get rid of. He was speeding towards his newest target: a cute little town that, according to his intel, had a little werewolf problem. He wasn't going to fix the problem. In fact, what he had in mind would probably just make it worse. Anthony only wanted the strongest, toughest wolves for his boss. He would round them up, sell them off, and leave the rest of the pack to seethe. He couldn't care less what happened to the leftovers. They could die. They could live. They could try to hunt him down and fail. Anthony slowed down as he came into the narrow streets of Vinehurst. This place was certainly quaint; a real 'raise the kids' type place. He couldn't wait to see it burn. He pulled into the parking lot of an inn and got out. Anthony glared down the road, where his little helper was still a no show. He's placed them in charge of handling the "less fun" vehicle: the truck and the trailer with most of their equipment in it. He slammed the car door and waltzed inside. The woman at the front desk was young and pretty. Anthony could tell from a mile away that she'd be real easy to get inside of, mentally, and maybe even physically if he felt like it. She looked up and smiled a classic customer service smile when she saw him. Anthony turned on the charm. "Hey. I just got into town, and I'd like to book a couple rooms. Could I get two on the same floor?" His rough voice was surprisingly sweet when he tried. The woman rung him up with a happy "Of course!" and gave him his total. Anthony pulled out a thick wad of cash, filed through it, and laid down fifty extra. "Keep the change," He said with a smug smile as he took the key cards. Anthony turned and went back outside to unload his luggage, while the desk clerk leaned over the desk a bit to get a better view.</s> <\|message\|>Olivia Scott Olivia Scott27 \| Female \| Beta Location: Downtown Tags: Open The little bell attached to the doorframe went off a split second before Olivia stepped outside. Tucked under one arm, she had with her yet another book; a sci fi by Garth Nix. Olivia was happy with her purchase, smiling just the slightest at the thought of tucking away in a quiet little corner to read her new novel. The bookstore was her happy place, and she visited frequently. Not because the clerk treated her like family after years of serving her, or because she received special discounts not necessarily afforded to other customers, but she simply loved to read and would sometimes even trade the books that were collecting dust on a shelf. As she made her way down the sidewalk, Olivia was slightly distracted by her phone. She wasn't mindlessly scrolling through photos or videos, but she was reading a message from a friend that had moved away not just from the town, but out of the country altogether. Apparently things were going well for her despite the fact that she hadn't been gone that long. The message had taken Olivia by surprise as she hadn't heard from the girl in an extremely long time. But apparently her friend had found her e-mail address and decided to write to her after all these years. She was nearly at the end of the message when she collided with someone, causing her to drop her book in the process. "Oh! Sorry!" She made sure the older gentleman was okay. He must have had quite the grip on his cane. Thankfully, he remained steady on his feet. "I'm so sorry, I should have been paying attention to where I was going." "It's quite all right young lady, we all get distracted," he smiled, and she returned the same, wishing him well after apologizing for the third time. Olivia then picked up her book and continued on, not bothering to keep reading the message.</s> <\|message\|>Connie Avis 28 / Female / Witch Agent "Normal Business Women" Location: Outside of Vinehurst -> In Town Tags: @Metronome Anthony --- Vinehurst, population of 25,000, a little town where town-folks have little businesses, little community and friends and family from every neighborhoods. So quiet, so peaceful, so- "Boring!" Connie say herself out loud from the outskirts of the town. "Agent Avis, please take this mission seriously." That was Connie boss on the phone, director Jade, the one who assign this boring mission to Connie "Oh come on, Jade. I was expecting a ghost town full with actual ghosts, not normal people living normal life" Connie say while looking at the town people with her mini binocular, she sees young lady bumping into a old man and then the next she see a old lady walking....really, really, slowing. "Well, from what our agents gather, the hunters send one of their own in to town, along with their assistant." "What you think they will catch?" "I'm betting the leader of the pack, our agents say the hunters send their coldest hunter yet...Their one probably doesn't have a soul in his body" Connie look around town again, trying to spot the killer but with a huge population, this is going to be a problem. Connie was kind of surprise that their agents didn't catcher a photo of the killer but then again, Division of Supernatural Investigation and The Hunters have been at each other throats for years and they want to keep their hunter identity a secret. "So you want me to go into a forest, try to find the pack location, talk the pack leader, aka the Alpha, and try to convince him and his pack to move into a new location before the hunter find them?" "That's pretty much it, yeah" There was a pause between the two supernatural beings "...That sounds like a really good plan, but there is one problem...I am a witch! And you remember last time I try to talk to a pack" Connie was young when she gone to her first werewolf and let's just say, she accidentally say some things and the pack leader was pissed off. Thank god that Accalia, the werewolf she save years ago, calm down the leader "Why can you send Accalia here? I'm sure that she'll convince the leader way better then me." "Well, we don't know if the hunters send more then one of their kind but magic like yours, you can take them out, one by one. Beside, Agent Valerie was send to Ireland trying to prevent a war between two fairy kingdom. Now go find the pack leader and if we don't hear from you about three days, we are sending the team to take the pact to their new location....Good luck, Agent Avis. and that being said, Director Jade hang up to the witch agent. Connie sigh in annoyance "Of course they would send a witch to do the dirty work..." Connie put two fingers in front of her mouth and then whistle, then a Freckle-breasted thornbird came flying at Connie and landed on her shoulder, that was Connie familiar, Freckles "All right, Freckles. Are you ready to save a pack while trying not to get killed?" Freckles sing happily "Then there is no time to waste!" Connie excitedly say and then she and her familiar hops into her car and then drive into town! --- While trying to find a inn to stay at, Connie spots some little businesses like a diner, a bookstore, a coffee shop and a bar, maybe after this mission, Connie could really need a cold one right now. After finally finding a inn to stay for awhile and park her car, Connie and Freckles hop out of the car "All right, I will book us a room, while you find the pack location, got it?" Connie quietly say to her small friend. With a little nod from the small bird, Freckles then fly up in the air and into the forest. Before she enter inside, Connie spots a rather tall young man unload his large luggage. Well if Connie is going to find the pack, she need to look the part of a normal business women "Hello." Connie say to the tall man "Do you want me to help you unload your luggage into the building? It seems like you were driving for hours."</s>	<\|message\|>Lucas Hanson 40 / Male / Bar OwnerLocation: Bar parking lot • Tags: N/A The blow rocked him off his feet. Luke fell on his side, the landing shooting an additional jolt of pain through his body. He'd fallen on a rock, one possibly large enough to leave him with a bruised rib. At least it didn't have a jagged edge to inflict additional damage. The man pounded the ground once with his fist and gritted his teeth. He was finished with that fight. He didn't want to deal with the asshole anymore and he wasn't going to waste his time nor energy. Luke got to his feet surprisingly quick, spitting out blood. He closed the distance between himself and his opponent before kicking him in the gut. As the other man stumbled and attempted to regain some sort of balance, Luke threw the knockout punch. And that was that, the fight was over. Luke took a moment to catch his breath, looking down at the unconscious man. The idiot had some bulk to him so it came as no surprise that Luke wasn't able to immediately deal with him. But at least he'd gotten the job done. Luke did not tolerate thieves, and if they instigated a fight then it was free game. Luke walked over to the door leading inside. He raised his shirt to check out the damage. It wasn't anything bad from what he could tell, but then again he wasn't a doctor. He leaned against the wall and pulled out his phone, dialing the cops. "9-1-1, what's your emergency?" "Yes, I need you to send a couple of deputies to my bar; some asshole tried to break in." "Sir is this person armed?" He smirked at the question. "Nah, we're good. He's knocked out cold a few feet from me. You should probably send the ambulance too." Luke finished giving out some information before hanging up. He took a look around but there was no one in sight. The lot was empty save for his car, the thief, and that damn rock... He quickly walked over and picked up the rock, examining it for a moment. He had no idea where it had come from, and he didn't care. Luke went over to the edge of the lot and tossed it on the grass. As he did so, he heard groaning from behind him. He turned around to see the asshole had regained some of his senses. Luke was planning to go back in his bar for a moment, but that idea was out of the question now. The front door was properly locked, so business could wait. For the moment being he'd have to deal with the thief until the cops arrived.</s>
<\|description\|>Lucas Hanson Age: 40 Gender: Male Species: Human Occupation: Bar owner Personality: A bit rough around the edges given his background. Lucas doesn't take crap from anyone and will happily knock you out for stepping out of line. With that said, he's tough, but fair. Given his progression, Lucas is quite comfortable interacting with the general crowd, though he has absolutely 0 patience for nonsense. Lucas' mind isn't easily changed, and that's led to failed relationships in the past. But does he care? No, not really. Appearance: Approximately 6'2 with a strong build. His salt and pepper beard game is strong, every once in a while turning heads whenever he's out and about. Lucas has full sleeves with tattoos that are very symbolic to him, and he's happy to tell the stories if anyone is curious enough to inquire. Lucas' typical, everyday fashion? A t-shirt and jeans. History: Born and raised into trouble, Lucas practically never caught a break. His parents lived in New York City at the time, raising him in Staten Island. Throughout his time there, he's been robbed, beat, you name it. Lucas had to grow up real quick in order to survive, something he figured out from experience as well as from the many sit-downs he had had with his parents. The incident that broke the family was the death of Lucas' little sister, Lily. It happened when she was only 7 and Lucas was 13. They were walking down the road one moment and the next, gunfire broke through the air. Unfortunately, Lily caught 2 bullets, which was later discovered were not meant for her but she was a casualty nonetheless. From that point on, Lucas was never the same. His behavior took a turn for the worse, leaving his own parents terrified of him at some point. The kid was out of control, and no matter how many times he was thrown in jail, Lucas simply did not care. But slowly, things improved a little bit. Lucas realized he couldn't continue heading down that same path. There's that, and the fact that he had to become a softy for his first girlfriend who didn't tolerate any BS from him. While the guy was not academically inclined, he had some wits about him and enjoyed doing manual labor as opposed to sitting in a college classroom. How did Lucas end up in Vinehurst? Well, his elderly grandfather became sick and Lucas decided to move to town to be with him. He's lived there for 3 years now and is not in a hurry to go back to the city.</s> <\|message\|>Thane Whitlock 33 \| Male \| Fighter Location: Lake Tory Tags: Open --- Thane was stretched out on the shoreline of the lake, enjoying the rays of the sun with a cold beer in one hand. The day was peaceful and luckily for him, no one else was there for the time so he had free reign of the entire beach for himself. A perfectly quiet day for the scarred man. Across his body there was quite the pattern of scars, showing a life of fights and hardship. Of course the crowning jewel above all other scars was the one that graced his charming face, a jagged set of lines that cut across the right side of his head down to the center of his chin and neck, passing through his right eye which was now white in color compared to his other good eye. Rather then finding them being ugly, he viewed them as being memories as well as in some sense trophies, being able to recount when each one was gained. He sat up from his prone position looking out across the lake, contemplating on whether he should return to the village. Eventually his free reign over the beach would be over anyways and he'd prefer to avoid the more irritating people who would give horrified stares if they saw the amalgamation of scars that riddled him. "Fuck it might as well see what the gracious alpha has to offer for work," he finally sighed to himself, popping his neck while finishing off he bottle and taking it with him while retrieving his ruffled shirt off to the side and putting it back on. He slipped on a pair of well worn boots before making his return to the village.</s> <\|message\|>Anthony Beck 32 / Male / Alpha Location: The village Tags: Cosmina Jude looked up as Cosmina approached. He shrugged at her remark. "You know what they say: If you want it done right..." He stood and picked up his water jug. He was in desperate need of a shower, and then dinner. He still had a bit of venison left over from the last hunt he went on. That would go well with some vegetables from the community garden and some of the seasoning he bought in town the other day. His stomach gave a growl as he thought about it. "Well, I'm about to pack up for day, I think," He said as he began to gather his power tools. He couldn't risk them gathering morning dew. "Wanna' help me get these back to the tool shed?" 31 / Male / Hunter Location: In town Tags: Connie Anthony unloaded his trunk from the back of the Corvette and set it on the ground to close the compartment lid. Just as he bent over to haul the trunk back up, a woman approached him. This wasn't terribly unusually. Anthony was a good looking man, a fact that he was very aware of. He was used to strange women coming over and trying their hand at flirting with him. Most of the time he was pretty receptive; he wasn't one to say no to a good time. But he was a little busy at the moment, and he didn't want this broad putting her paws all over his luggage. He gave a sweet looking crooked smile as he lifted the trunk up on his own. "No thanks, I think I've got it."</s> <\|message\|>Cosmina Aleksandrina Chaykovsky --- 24 female Pack Fighter Location: Wolf village / Tag: Jude Vanderbilt @Metronome --- --- She took in the sweet scent of the Alpha's musk as he stood and began moving around, Jude's sweat, along with Cosmina's enhanced sense of smell, making it easy to pick up. Jude was big, powerful, and buff like a leader of a pack should be. Though she would never admit it out loud, Cosmina was quite curious as to why he hadn't taken a mate yet. Genetics proved that his offspring would most likely be just as big and strong as their father and his father before him. Certainly, Jude wanted to keep his family's bloodline going. The sound of Jude's growling stomach made Cosmina quirk a brow. She had let the time of day slip away from her in her boredom. It was already dinner time, and with a sudden realization, she discovered how hungry she was. Cosmina gave a slight frown at Jude's question. Just because he was fond of what she dubbed menial work didn't mean she was as well. "No," she replied rather flatly. Cosmina would have casually walked away with that had she been in a more negative mood. But she wasn't. Instead, Cosmina stood there extending her arms and waited to be loaded up by her Alpha.</s> <\|message\|>Olivia Scott Olivia Scott27 \| Female \| Beta Location: Downtown Tags: Thane @Argetlam350 Olivia took a sip of her green tea. The young woman was not a fan of coffee. In fact, she despised the taste. But the employees at Common Grounds were not aware of that, though they never really questioned why she never had coffee and always asked for tea or juice. Dropping a dollar bill in the tip jar, Olivia waved at one of her acquaintances behind the register before walking outside. She figured it was about time to start heading back to the village, but she would make a little stop on the way. She wasn't in any hurry after all. Some time later, Olivia was approaching the lake. The days weren't scorching hot anymore, yet people still gathered for a swim. It took some time, but Olivia eventually noticed the familiar frame walking away. "Thane!" She waved, quickly walking over to catch up to him. "Caught you just leaving, huh? I was going to stick around for a bit, any chance you'd like to join me for a swim?" She lifted an arm, showing him her collection of bags. "I may have gotten a little carried away with the shopping, but I purchased an amazing one-piece for dirt cheap."</s> <\|message\|>Connie Avis 28 / Female / Witch Agent "Normal Business Women" Location: In Town Tags: @Metronome Anthony --- "Already then! i will saw you around town, sir!" connie gladly say to the tall man, she then walked toward her car and grab her bag. When Connie entered the inn, she spot a female clerk at the front desk, who was just making loved eyes toward the tall man outside, Connie rings the bell "Ummm, hello?" The clerk finally snapped out of it when Connie speak to her. "Oh! sorry, miss. I was distracted." "Yeah, no kidding" Connie say sarcastically "Anyway, I would like to book a room for one, please?" "Sure thing, how long will you be staying here?" Oh shit, how long will connie stayed in this town? Days? Weeks? Months? Years?! Connie had no idea where the pack location is or who the hunter was, all she knows that there is no time to waste "Five days, that's all." the clerk nod and handed connie the keys. "I hope you enjoyed your stay here in Vinehurst" Connie unlocked the door and the room was not that bad, not that great but not that bad. The room had two beds, a bathroom, a tv and one window right next to the left bed. Connie opened the window and sees her birdie familiar flying up in the sky, Freckles fly toward the inn and land on the ledge of the window. "Hello Freckles, did you found the pack location?" Freckles made a sad noise and shook his head. Damn, Connie guessed that the location was very hidden in the woods, or in a better least, covered in a invisible barrier. Connie signs while she and freckles sat on the bed. "Well, Freckles, I guess we are going to be here for awhile." Connie say to her bird friend, if finding the hunter and the location, she wonders if the assistant was going to be a challenge, are they more heartless and cold like the hunter? --- 25 / Male / Assistant Location: In Town Tags: @Metronome Anthony --- It's been thirty hours since Alex family kicked him out of the family car and into the streets, it's been twenty-seven hours since after Alex was done crying and thinking how his life had gone to hell. Alex had been sitting on the side of the sidewalk while people walked past him, thinking he was probably a drunk homeless guy or something but he doesn't care, he could have been writing his book and enjoy his new life, but instead of that, his only family threatened him, put a curse on him, put him in the trunk of their car for hours and then tell him good luck while laughing at him. Alex turn on his phone and saw a voicemail, he guess while he was zone out, someone was trying to called him, when he answered the voicemail, Alex heard a angry and aggressive voiced, telling him to get his ass over here. That was probably Anthony Beck, the hunter that his family mention. After pulling himself together, Alex finally found Anthony by his car and he was exactly what alex picture him, tall, dark, and handsome...He also have the eyes of a killer. Alex heart begins to ride as he walked toward the hunter, he wants to run away, go to a another country, changed his name, his looks and start a brand new life, but there no going backed now and he had to faced the facts that he was going to be killed in the end by the wolves....or be killed the hunter. "Um, hi Mr. Beck, you're Mr. Beck right?" alex sheepishly say "I, um, I know that you were kinda expecting one of my family members to be your assistant but they picked me to be your guy. Oh! Er, um, my name Alex Theron. It's nice to meet you." Alex say as he offers a handshake.</s> <\|message\|>Thane Whitlock 33 \| Male \| Fighter Location: Lake Tory Tags: Olivia @Asesina --- Thane was about to make his way back home when he heard his name shouted out. He turned slightly to see with his good eye that it was Olivia. He waved back stopping he walk and waiting for her to reach him. When he had first joined the pack he was honestly surprised to hear that she was the beta due to her short stature but shortly after found out she could handle herself quite well with the pack dynamics along with while perhaps short for her human self, her other half made up for the size difference but quite a bit. "A swim with you? Hmm return to the village and work or swim with you?" he stated, pretending to weigh the options like they were anywhere near equal to one another. "Well if you twist my arm, who am I to deny such a request," he chuckled though was happy to be able to enjoy Olivia's company after a rather dull day of relaxing on his own ",Plus I guess I get to judge if this one piece you speak of is truely amazing."</s>	<\|message\|>Lucas Hanson 40 / Male / Bar OwnerLocation: Metal Gear Liquid • Tags: N/A A gentle tap with his foot elicited a response from the crook. Another groan, accompanied by a half-assed attempt to shoo Luke away with a wave of his arm. Prior to that point, the man hadn't moved much. Not that Luke had kept tabs on him the entire time. From the corner of his eye, Luke saw a couple of people entering the lot. He turned his head to see the deputies walking up to him. "Officers, glad to see y'all. This is the idiot that attempted the break in." "Were you inside when it occurred?" The male asked. "Yes, I'd just gotten here. Was about to do some work then I heard the back door open. I saw him walking in and that's when I rushed him. Next thing I knew we were both throwing punches." As he was finishing his statement, Luke noticed two paramedics approaching them. He motioned to the man on the floor, and also turned them down when they asked him if he wanted quick treatment for his face. He didn't need a band-aid, and he had plenty of ice inside. "Thank you guys, I appreciate it either way but I'll be fine." The paramedics returned a quick nod before gathering around the thief to examine him. "Sir, do you have your driver license? I'm going to take your information down and also have you fill out a statement form. Oh, and do you have any cameras on the property? We'd like to take a look at the footage if possible." "Sure, come with me." The female deputy followed Luke into the bar while her partner remained outside with the paramedics. As the two walked past the entrance, Luke reached in his back pocket for his ID before handing it off to her. He then guided her to his office where he had his computer. It wouldn't take all that long to get the playback given that the incident hadn't occurred that long ago. Luke sat down at his desk and logged into the security system. He then rewinded the footage from the camera overlooking the lot. "There he is, walking up." Luke pointed to the man on the screen and the deputy got a little closer to him, leaning over his shoulder. He immediately picked up on the fact that she smelled good, but he composed himself. He was, after all, the victim of a crime.</s>
<\|description\|>Jude Vanderbilt Age: 32 Gender: Male Species: Werewolf Rank: Alpha Personality: Jude is aloof, reserved, and strategic. He's a real "strong and silent" type. There are moments when he lets his guard down and has a good time with the pack, but, for the most part, he is content to sit back and watch them have fun. Part of this may be because he became alpha fairly recently. He may lighten up a little with time, but with the up coming events, it's not likely. Appearance: He's big. Jude is massive both in and out of his wolf form. He's very muscular and solid. Jude's hair, beard, and eyes are dark brown. His skin tone is a light olive. In his wolf form, Jude is the largest in the pack. His fur is black and ash, and his eyes are a golden orange. History: Jude's parents were long time members of the pack. His great great grandfather first took the alpha title after the current alpha's untimely demise. It's been passed down his bloodline ever since. Jude's own father was the alpha for years, until a particularly nasty clan of vampires targeted the town. The bloody battle between the pack and the bloodsuckers had mass casualties on both sides. Jude's father was severely injured and, despite the medic's best efforts, he passed by morning. Jude was a teenager at the time. The fight got desperate enough that even the younger wolves were allowed to join the fray, and he was no different. Jude was on the battlefield when his father got cut down by a ruthless vampire, and he's never forgotten it. He's harbored animosity towards their kind ever since. His mother took up the alpha title. She lead the pack for several more years, until trouble brewed in their sister pack's territory across country. His mother left to help settle the chaos there, and passed the title on to Jude. He's only lead the pack for a year or two. He pretends like the stress doesn't bother him, but he's clearly changed ever since being put in charge. He's way less fun.</s> <\|message\|>Anthony Beck 32 / Male / Alpha Location: The village Tags: Cosmina Jude looked up as Cosmina approached. He shrugged at her remark. "You know what they say: If you want it done right..." He stood and picked up his water jug. He was in desperate need of a shower, and then dinner. He still had a bit of venison left over from the last hunt he went on. That would go well with some vegetables from the community garden and some of the seasoning he bought in town the other day. His stomach gave a growl as he thought about it. "Well, I'm about to pack up for day, I think," He said as he began to gather his power tools. He couldn't risk them gathering morning dew. "Wanna' help me get these back to the tool shed?" 31 / Male / Hunter Location: In town Tags: Connie Anthony unloaded his trunk from the back of the Corvette and set it on the ground to close the compartment lid. Just as he bent over to haul the trunk back up, a woman approached him. This wasn't terribly unusually. Anthony was a good looking man, a fact that he was very aware of. He was used to strange women coming over and trying their hand at flirting with him. Most of the time he was pretty receptive; he wasn't one to say no to a good time. But he was a little busy at the moment, and he didn't want this broad putting her paws all over his luggage. He gave a sweet looking crooked smile as he lifted the trunk up on his own. "No thanks, I think I've got it."</s> <\|message\|>Cosmina Aleksandrina Chaykovsky --- 24 female Pack Fighter Location: Wolf village / Tag: Jude Vanderbilt @Metronome --- --- She took in the sweet scent of the Alpha's musk as he stood and began moving around, Jude's sweat, along with Cosmina's enhanced sense of smell, making it easy to pick up. Jude was big, powerful, and buff like a leader of a pack should be. Though she would never admit it out loud, Cosmina was quite curious as to why he hadn't taken a mate yet. Genetics proved that his offspring would most likely be just as big and strong as their father and his father before him. Certainly, Jude wanted to keep his family's bloodline going. The sound of Jude's growling stomach made Cosmina quirk a brow. She had let the time of day slip away from her in her boredom. It was already dinner time, and with a sudden realization, she discovered how hungry she was. Cosmina gave a slight frown at Jude's question. Just because he was fond of what she dubbed menial work didn't mean she was as well. "No," she replied rather flatly. Cosmina would have casually walked away with that had she been in a more negative mood. But she wasn't. Instead, Cosmina stood there extending her arms and waited to be loaded up by her Alpha.</s> <\|message\|>Olivia Scott Olivia Scott27 \| Female \| Beta Location: Downtown Tags: Thane @Argetlam350 Olivia took a sip of her green tea. The young woman was not a fan of coffee. In fact, she despised the taste. But the employees at Common Grounds were not aware of that, though they never really questioned why she never had coffee and always asked for tea or juice. Dropping a dollar bill in the tip jar, Olivia waved at one of her acquaintances behind the register before walking outside. She figured it was about time to start heading back to the village, but she would make a little stop on the way. She wasn't in any hurry after all. Some time later, Olivia was approaching the lake. The days weren't scorching hot anymore, yet people still gathered for a swim. It took some time, but Olivia eventually noticed the familiar frame walking away. "Thane!" She waved, quickly walking over to catch up to him. "Caught you just leaving, huh? I was going to stick around for a bit, any chance you'd like to join me for a swim?" She lifted an arm, showing him her collection of bags. "I may have gotten a little carried away with the shopping, but I purchased an amazing one-piece for dirt cheap."</s> <\|message\|>Connie Avis 28 / Female / Witch Agent "Normal Business Women" Location: In Town Tags: @Metronome Anthony --- "Already then! i will saw you around town, sir!" connie gladly say to the tall man, she then walked toward her car and grab her bag. When Connie entered the inn, she spot a female clerk at the front desk, who was just making loved eyes toward the tall man outside, Connie rings the bell "Ummm, hello?" The clerk finally snapped out of it when Connie speak to her. "Oh! sorry, miss. I was distracted." "Yeah, no kidding" Connie say sarcastically "Anyway, I would like to book a room for one, please?" "Sure thing, how long will you be staying here?" Oh shit, how long will connie stayed in this town? Days? Weeks? Months? Years?! Connie had no idea where the pack location is or who the hunter was, all she knows that there is no time to waste "Five days, that's all." the clerk nod and handed connie the keys. "I hope you enjoyed your stay here in Vinehurst" Connie unlocked the door and the room was not that bad, not that great but not that bad. The room had two beds, a bathroom, a tv and one window right next to the left bed. Connie opened the window and sees her birdie familiar flying up in the sky, Freckles fly toward the inn and land on the ledge of the window. "Hello Freckles, did you found the pack location?" Freckles made a sad noise and shook his head. Damn, Connie guessed that the location was very hidden in the woods, or in a better least, covered in a invisible barrier. Connie signs while she and freckles sat on the bed. "Well, Freckles, I guess we are going to be here for awhile." Connie say to her bird friend, if finding the hunter and the location, she wonders if the assistant was going to be a challenge, are they more heartless and cold like the hunter? --- 25 / Male / Assistant Location: In Town Tags: @Metronome Anthony --- It's been thirty hours since Alex family kicked him out of the family car and into the streets, it's been twenty-seven hours since after Alex was done crying and thinking how his life had gone to hell. Alex had been sitting on the side of the sidewalk while people walked past him, thinking he was probably a drunk homeless guy or something but he doesn't care, he could have been writing his book and enjoy his new life, but instead of that, his only family threatened him, put a curse on him, put him in the trunk of their car for hours and then tell him good luck while laughing at him. Alex turn on his phone and saw a voicemail, he guess while he was zone out, someone was trying to called him, when he answered the voicemail, Alex heard a angry and aggressive voiced, telling him to get his ass over here. That was probably Anthony Beck, the hunter that his family mention. After pulling himself together, Alex finally found Anthony by his car and he was exactly what alex picture him, tall, dark, and handsome...He also have the eyes of a killer. Alex heart begins to ride as he walked toward the hunter, he wants to run away, go to a another country, changed his name, his looks and start a brand new life, but there no going backed now and he had to faced the facts that he was going to be killed in the end by the wolves....or be killed the hunter. "Um, hi Mr. Beck, you're Mr. Beck right?" alex sheepishly say "I, um, I know that you were kinda expecting one of my family members to be your assistant but they picked me to be your guy. Oh! Er, um, my name Alex Theron. It's nice to meet you." Alex say as he offers a handshake.</s> <\|message\|>Thane Whitlock 33 \| Male \| Fighter Location: Lake Tory Tags: Olivia @Asesina --- Thane was about to make his way back home when he heard his name shouted out. He turned slightly to see with his good eye that it was Olivia. He waved back stopping he walk and waiting for her to reach him. When he had first joined the pack he was honestly surprised to hear that she was the beta due to her short stature but shortly after found out she could handle herself quite well with the pack dynamics along with while perhaps short for her human self, her other half made up for the size difference but quite a bit. "A swim with you? Hmm return to the village and work or swim with you?" he stated, pretending to weigh the options like they were anywhere near equal to one another. "Well if you twist my arm, who am I to deny such a request," he chuckled though was happy to be able to enjoy Olivia's company after a rather dull day of relaxing on his own ",Plus I guess I get to judge if this one piece you speak of is truely amazing."</s> <\|message\|>Lucas Hanson 40 / Male / Bar OwnerLocation: Metal Gear Liquid • Tags: N/A A gentle tap with his foot elicited a response from the crook. Another groan, accompanied by a half-assed attempt to shoo Luke away with a wave of his arm. Prior to that point, the man hadn't moved much. Not that Luke had kept tabs on him the entire time. From the corner of his eye, Luke saw a couple of people entering the lot. He turned his head to see the deputies walking up to him. "Officers, glad to see y'all. This is the idiot that attempted the break in." "Were you inside when it occurred?" The male asked. "Yes, I'd just gotten here. Was about to do some work then I heard the back door open. I saw him walking in and that's when I rushed him. Next thing I knew we were both throwing punches." As he was finishing his statement, Luke noticed two paramedics approaching them. He motioned to the man on the floor, and also turned them down when they asked him if he wanted quick treatment for his face. He didn't need a band-aid, and he had plenty of ice inside. "Thank you guys, I appreciate it either way but I'll be fine." The paramedics returned a quick nod before gathering around the thief to examine him. "Sir, do you have your driver license? I'm going to take your information down and also have you fill out a statement form. Oh, and do you have any cameras on the property? We'd like to take a look at the footage if possible." "Sure, come with me." The female deputy followed Luke into the bar while her partner remained outside with the paramedics. As the two walked past the entrance, Luke reached in his back pocket for his ID before handing it off to her. He then guided her to his office where he had his computer. It wouldn't take all that long to get the playback given that the incident hadn't occurred that long ago. Luke sat down at his desk and logged into the security system. He then rewinded the footage from the camera overlooking the lot. "There he is, walking up." Luke pointed to the man on the screen and the deputy got a little closer to him, leaning over his shoulder. He immediately picked up on the fact that she smelled good, but he composed himself. He was, after all, the victim of a crime.</s> <\|message\|>Olivia Scott Olivia Scott27 \| Female \| Beta Location: Lake Tory Tags: Thane @Argetlam350 "Oh well, judge away, but you will see for yourself," she smiled before turning around and heading off to change. It didn't take long for her to slip on the one-piece, and soon after that she was walking back barefoot, her shoes and neatly folded-up clothes tucked away in the empty bag that was previously being used. "Like I said, amazing." Olivia pretended to be a model for a moment but she couldn't hold in her laughter. She then motioned for Thane to follow her as she walked towards the shore. Once there, she set her stuff down and decided to test the water. It wasn't as warm as the prior months, but to her it didn't make a difference. She welcomed the refreshing feeling after spending a couple of hours walking around town. "I can't believe the water is this nice," Olivia mentioned, swimming out away from shore. It was only a matter of moments before she couldn't touch the bottom. "Thane!" She suddenly yelled for him, waving her arms frantically before her head disappeared underwater.</s>	<\|message\|>Jude Vanderbilt 32 / Male / Alpha Location: The village Tags: Cosmina Jude raised an eyebrow at the rudeness of the fighter. Not that he didn't expect it. Cosmina had a nasty habit of thinking that pulling her weight was below her. Or, at least, that was what he'd gathered. Jude handed her the table saw, and picked up the other tools himself. "Be careful with that, it's expensive," He warned. He led the way to the tool shed, where he neatly put away the wood working equipment for another day. He turned to face Cosmina. "Thanks for the help. I'd better go get cleaned up." And with that, he excused himself and made for his own cabin.</s>
<\|description\|>Tristan Kuwabatake-Fletcher The Troll-Killer Bold: +0 Good: -1 Strong: +1 Wary: +2 Weird: +1 Rights: I have an enchanted weapon When I encounter something unnatural, I have the right to roll Weird. On 10+, I ask the MC 2 of the following. On 7–9, ask 1. • Is this a thing of old ways, new ways, or ways unknown to me? • What manner of person made this thing, or is it its own? • For what does this thing hunger, or by what has it sated itself? • What would this thing make the world into, if it only could? On a miss, ask 1, but the thing may ask a question of you in return, from this list or of its own devising. Answer truthfully. I have the right to slay whom I must for the protection of all In single combat, I have the right to spend 1 more than my roll alone would allow Who? I am the son of an expert warrior who has trained me well, and an English bowyer. My father is part of a company of elite warriors who have been exiled from their homeland who travelled far, following the legends of Rome, in search of a new place of Lords to sell their swords and undertake new duties. The chivalric code of conduct came naturally to many of the Exiles, who integrated it with their own. As the second generation, I have been taught this synthesis of chivalry and of my father's strict martial traditions. My father was also a deeply spiritual man, but not a Christian. It is both his spiritualism and the esoteric faiths of my mother's England that I have been raised with, and that I also put a great importance in. I am no longer a child, but I am still defined by being my father's son. His reputation is fearsome, and his People, the Pilgrims in Exile, are my people as well - together they try to rebuild as much of their traditions as they can pass down to the next generation. While I am inspired by their legacy, I am also an Englishman. I will build my own legacy, that of an English Knight, from the tools that my People have given me. This is why I have struck out on my own, out from under my People's shadow. I have no land, no titles, and as yet few deeds to my name. I carry my father's bow and my mother's arrows, my People's knowledge, and a heart and mind uniquely my own. Here is my vow: I will be Just, Courageous and Compassionate. In all things I will show Integrity, Honour and Loyalty. I must never strike in anger, and I will spill no unneeded blood. If blood need be spilled, I must cut decisively and with true intent. I seek honour in duty and I seek greatness through my service to all. People: The Pilgrims in Exile, of which I am typical (of my generation) They are bound by a single common experience They are a warrior order, 16 souls in 16 households of 16 warriors They are lean and tawny-brown They mostly speak Latin with mixed fluencies, due to following the Pax Romana from their homeland Stats: +1 War, +1 Rites, 0 Wealth War: They are known for their physical prowess and their individual skill at arms Rites: They are known for their fearlessness in the face of death and their patience in suffering Wealth: They are known for their craft and skill Household: I have a humble place in another's household The household is an Inn at which I am hosted by the Innkeeper's charity Horse and stables Tenants A kitchen, pantry and buttery Debts Personal belongings: Distinctive clothing of a sky-blue silk shirt, and black gambeson trousers. An elaborate black quiver with blue silk thread stitching. I am without ornament, though my hair is tied back in a distinctive tight bun My drinking cup is lacquered wood of fine craft My knife is of long cord-wrapped iron. Arms and Armor: A dagger (2 harm) A bardiche (3 harm) Hide armor (1 armor) A leather helmet (1 armor) An enchanted bow of ancient yew (4 harm at range, can harm non-flesh creatures) Has a bounty of fur and a bounty of meat</s> <\|message\|>Tristan Kuwabatake-Fletcher Tristan is eager and brash, but he is also curious and superstitious himself - until now, he'd assumed the matter was brigands to be disarmed and disabled. Their hesitation gives him pause, but Nin immediately sets herself upon that task for him. This gives him a chance to slip away, and find her again soon. [Weird 1+5+1 = 7 = I ask one question of the other world] He has hunted in this place, and he has left an offering of berries and water after every success. He is familiar to this place, now. Nin can talk to the people about what they've seen; Tristan is going to find a quiet place of prayer closer to the forest, where he will bring two cups of beer: One placed in offering, and one for himself. He closes his eyes and he counts his breaths as he drinks. He will have communion with the spirits and listen to what they have to say about the threat, what has disturbed the woods here. Breathe in. Breathe out. Just as he was taught.</s> <\|message\|>Robena Coilleghille It is cold justice to be used as a beast of burden. Ten thousand wordless equine grumbles are finally soothed with some small measure of justice as the bread is stacked atop the apples and the leg of ham and the blackberry preserves and - oh! With strength and balance so impressive as to draw a gasp from the entire crowd, Robena shifts the entire great weight piled upon her to one arm in an instant. She bends down with the speed of a viper and her hand closes around the honey-jar - and around Constance's smaller and more delicate fingers. For a moment they're caught there, half-bowed, hands entangled, making the mistakes of looking into each other's eyes. "Thank you," "You're welcome," Words that may as well come from bystanders for all they communicated that strange electricity that in this moment existed between them. Robena stands tall again, drawing another appreciative murmur from the crowd as she once again hefts the entire weight of the gifts without any loss of balance. Those arms can hold a shield of metal steady through the horizontal waterfall of a horse in gallop and so they hold all of the river-daughter's gifts steady. Perhaps were Constance herself to climb as she did as a wild-faced child and sit atop that bounty the knight's arms would still not tremble - or at least, not from the weight. "You are happy here?" she asks, again bystander-words borrowed from the tongues of those who might speak without tangling their tongues. "No evil has beset you or yours?"</s> <\|message\|>Lostwithiel Castle Constance and Robena The crowd is gathered, the gifts put to the side. The sun is nearly at its zenith and square is cleared for the ceremony. Robena, you are in place to ensure nothing untoward happens. It is...unlikely that anything untoward will happen, but there is something unusual. The young priest who advises the Duchess is in the audience (Constance, you know her name is Cerwen, Robena you probably do not). Although you are newly returned Robena, you have already heard her preach at least, and so would recognize her as a priest by the fiery red hair, which she keeps long and loose over her brown robe, a sort of open challenge to many of the druids, though the small golden cross at her neck makes no doubt of her preferences. She is frowning and looking at something in the square with concern, and she presently strides forward ahead of the crowd. She speaks in a low, hushed tone, but an unusually educated one as she approaches the two of you. Constance, you recognize her from counsel "My apologies, I know we had made our arrangements, but I am...concerned at the state of things. The harvest is liable to be poor this year, and I wonder, perhaps, if you would permit me to join the benediction. I could offer a blessing alongside your own, a small change to the ceremony of course. I think it would do the people great good." Three points. First, you two have a moment for a few closing words before the priest strides forwards to talk. Second, she's not looking at either of you, she's looking at the ground as she's speaking, and the soil at your feet doesn't look particularly healthy, so it would be fair to say that she has a point. Third, what she's asking would deny you your right, Constance. How do you respond? Tristan You slip away in the stream of pilgrims carrying your beers to one of the streams not far from the keep walls. It's not difficult to take a moment, there are many travelers on the road, but even a moment or two walking off the path leaves you quite alone. The air feels low and heavy without being wet enough to mist and the ground drinks the beer you lay upon it heavily. It seeps deep into the earth and you see small cracks form in the dry soil, as though opening from below, and a small beetle is thrown out and scampers for the nearest bit of grass to hide under, scattering the little pill bugs that were already there. Nin Depends what you mean by "best" exactly. Fastest would be to just walk right up to the pelt merchant. She's already talking, it's obvious she knows the rumors, just confront her directly, invoke the countess and demand that she speak the truth. You're absolutely in control here, even with Tristan slipped off somewhere. The question is really about how you want to play this longer. Your accusation carries a lot of weight and you'll embarrass the merchant if you take this route, as well as make the others hesitant to speak with you in the future because you'll look like someone dangerous to their good standing in the castle town. Especially if you react to what you hear with scorn after demanding it. If you're less concerned with speed and more with your relationships here, take a moment to look over the wares, maybe buy something, make small talk and let them disperse a bit. Ask the pelt merchant more quietly what she really saw, reassure her that you're interested in information and that you will not scorn her no matter what she shares with you.</s> <\|message\|>Kenina "Nin" Haig Nin is the listening type, less of a talker, and while she has authority here, she's never been used to waving it around. So she just nods at the pelt merchant when she talks about the wolves, as if her scowl is reserved for the wolves and not the lie, then ask her about her pelts. She spends some time letting the merchant show her various pelts and picks out one that she fancies while she waits for the other merchants to return to their own work. She lets the merchant do most of the talking while she listens and studies the pelts. When she feels like they've become sufficiently casual, and there's no one else paying close attention, she quietly brings the conversation back on topic. "I got the feeling there was more you wished to tell me, in private perhaps, about the roads. Did you see something else? I am only looking for information, you understand; you have my word that what you tell me will stay between you and me."</s>	<\|message\|>Tristan Kuwabatake-Fletcher "Thank you." Tristan bows his head. He takes a fallen leaf and makes a larger shade for the scattered pillbugs with it. "Thank you too, little ones. Sometimes the message takes a toll on its messenger." He stays until he's finished his beer. He is in a communion with the woods here, not a transaction. Leaving as soon as you have what you want is disrespectful. It's rude. So he savours his beer and thinks for a while. Listens, and breathes. He collects the cups, and bows his head again when it's time to leave. Then he's off like a shot back to Nin, a thoughtful grimace. This has all the hallmarks of a Sign that'll be more obvious in retrospect. He considers the common themes. Something large being driven from its home, trying to move into someone else's? Conflict brought by displacement... The solution might not be bloodshed, then. Find where the threat came from, and learn why it can't go home. Or maybe just put up more of a fight than the pillbugs did. Nin's still talking when he gets back. He'll wait for her to finish before he intrudes. If he's needed, she'll ask. He stands away from the stall and bouncing on his feet instead, resisting the urge to do pushups. Or chinups. Or- He hasn't fired an arrow today! Is his knife sharp? When's the last time he stropped it? (Yesterday.) Could he light a fire right now, if he needed to? (Yes.) Does he know?! (No.) He is waiting very patiently for Nin from a reasonable distance, so as not to bother her.</s>
<\|description\|>Tristan Kuwabatake-Fletcher The Troll-Killer Bold: +0 Good: -1 Strong: +1 Wary: +2 Weird: +1 Rights: I have an enchanted weapon When I encounter something unnatural, I have the right to roll Weird. On 10+, I ask the MC 2 of the following. On 7–9, ask 1. • Is this a thing of old ways, new ways, or ways unknown to me? • What manner of person made this thing, or is it its own? • For what does this thing hunger, or by what has it sated itself? • What would this thing make the world into, if it only could? On a miss, ask 1, but the thing may ask a question of you in return, from this list or of its own devising. Answer truthfully. I have the right to slay whom I must for the protection of all In single combat, I have the right to spend 1 more than my roll alone would allow Who? I am the son of an expert warrior who has trained me well, and an English bowyer. My father is part of a company of elite warriors who have been exiled from their homeland who travelled far, following the legends of Rome, in search of a new place of Lords to sell their swords and undertake new duties. The chivalric code of conduct came naturally to many of the Exiles, who integrated it with their own. As the second generation, I have been taught this synthesis of chivalry and of my father's strict martial traditions. My father was also a deeply spiritual man, but not a Christian. It is both his spiritualism and the esoteric faiths of my mother's England that I have been raised with, and that I also put a great importance in. I am no longer a child, but I am still defined by being my father's son. His reputation is fearsome, and his People, the Pilgrims in Exile, are my people as well - together they try to rebuild as much of their traditions as they can pass down to the next generation. While I am inspired by their legacy, I am also an Englishman. I will build my own legacy, that of an English Knight, from the tools that my People have given me. This is why I have struck out on my own, out from under my People's shadow. I have no land, no titles, and as yet few deeds to my name. I carry my father's bow and my mother's arrows, my People's knowledge, and a heart and mind uniquely my own. Here is my vow: I will be Just, Courageous and Compassionate. In all things I will show Integrity, Honour and Loyalty. I must never strike in anger, and I will spill no unneeded blood. If blood need be spilled, I must cut decisively and with true intent. I seek honour in duty and I seek greatness through my service to all. People: The Pilgrims in Exile, of which I am typical (of my generation) They are bound by a single common experience They are a warrior order, 16 souls in 16 households of 16 warriors They are lean and tawny-brown They mostly speak Latin with mixed fluencies, due to following the Pax Romana from their homeland Stats: +1 War, +1 Rites, 0 Wealth War: They are known for their physical prowess and their individual skill at arms Rites: They are known for their fearlessness in the face of death and their patience in suffering Wealth: They are known for their craft and skill Household: I have a humble place in another's household The household is an Inn at which I am hosted by the Innkeeper's charity Horse and stables Tenants A kitchen, pantry and buttery Debts Personal belongings: Distinctive clothing of a sky-blue silk shirt, and black gambeson trousers. An elaborate black quiver with blue silk thread stitching. I am without ornament, though my hair is tied back in a distinctive tight bun My drinking cup is lacquered wood of fine craft My knife is of long cord-wrapped iron. Arms and Armor: A dagger (2 harm) A bardiche (3 harm) Hide armor (1 armor) A leather helmet (1 armor) An enchanted bow of ancient yew (4 harm at range, can harm non-flesh creatures) Has a bounty of fur and a bounty of meat</s> <\|message\|>Tristan Kuwabatake-Fletcher Tristan nods. "That makes sense. My fear is that if we meet it before we understand the problem, it will not let us observe it, ending in bloodshed. I had thought - if it is a place it cannot go back to, it is a place we cannot find by following it. We could look for where it cannot be, but could have been? Perhaps where a new mineshaft has been cut? Or a dam has formed in an inconvenient place?" To observe without being observed is an unforgiving art: A thousand rights are undone by a single wrong. Tristan's more hesitant about that single point of failure than he is about the thing itself.</s> <\|message\|>Robena Coilleghille A cross of gold. Robena's mind turns a darker way. A lot of crosses of gold in the guts of the dragon-boats - if not atop the hoards of dragons proper. It hung from her neck like a stone and she wondered why Xristos' blood could not be caught with the wooden cup of a carpenter than the jewels and ornaments that accumulated too easily in the hands of priests. The sin of striking a holy woman was deep enough that it seemed uncharitable to tempt wayward hands into it with wealth. A melancholy cloud passes over her even as Summer is welcomed unto the earth. Perhaps this is a land where such things are unthinkable and all the knights are true. A scent on the breeze like rotting flesh tells her this is not so. "Mm," she demurs to the priestess' question. A strange one. Who wouldn't know Constance river-blessed? Who did this priestess take her for? This question indicated that she knew Robena not at all, and yet asked this stranger about her relation to another. To what end? She opted to answer with an enigma in turn. "And you know the Azure Knight?"</s> <\|message\|>Kenina "Nin" Haig "Until we know where it is, there is always a chance we'll run into it by pure chance before we're ready, or that it will find us before we find it, no matter where we go or what we do," Nin says. "That's why it's best to start by finding where it is; only then can you avoid running into it by accident. If you're worried about bloodshed, should it catch wind of us or should we fall right on top of it by accident, we can always retreat rather than fight." "And even if it is as you suspect, that it can't go back to where it came from, that don't mean we can't follow the trail it left back to its source. Or at least it will help us narrow our search."</s> <\|message\|>High King Uther Pendragon Nin and Tristan This is Nin's truest specialty: Striking out on the road for a journey. She possesses many options for finding her way, both by mundane roads and the smallest trail and by the more spiritual. Tristan, you are most empowered to learn when you encounter the beast, but Nin will get you where you're going and though there is time aplenty on the road to plan, it is time now to strike out. Talk as much as you wish, and when you're ready, Nin tell us how you find whatever of the beast you're seeking. I don't know precisely where it will be until you tell me how you find it, but I can tell you that it will be in the fields, with their tall golden wheat that still grows strong and proud. Even if the land is dryer and the seeds smaller than in past years, even if the treeline looms darkly not far away, the place where you find it somehow or other will be in the fields, in the tall grasses, the open sky and small clouds high and away above you. But that is all I know for now. Robena The priestess Cerwen turns to you with some hesitation. She clearly does not wish to talk about the Azure knight. "I know of her" she says slowly, selecting the words for that sentence with caution as Constance begins the proper ritual. "I would not fain speak of it to her opponent though" she adds hastily, obviously searching for some reason to avoid this discussion. "Surely, you wish a fair and honorable contest and ought to ask her yourself of her background when you meet her? Though if you are afraid that she is now in the service of the Duchess, you need not worry there. The Azure knight is a knight-errant and will not be here long after the tournament, I should think. Would you wish my favor for your match, God is a regal ally." She laughs nervously, confident that she's thrown you off the trail and changes the subject immediately. "Perhaps you ought ask the Lady of the Low if she might make my temporary gift more permanent. It was a present from the Duchess for my service and of no small value." She seems shockingly confident in her position to discuss the Duchess that way. Careful for her part, but utterly confident here, and therefore it's all the more strange that she doesn't want to discuss the Azure knight. You know enough about tournament rules that unless much has changed since you were gone, there's nothing wrong with asking about your opponent as long as you're not trying to gain an advantage on them. Perhaps Cerwen does have some sort of insider knowledge that she's afraid to reveal though. You might seek to win her as an ally, or accept what she offers as it stands, or reject her for misunderstanding you perhaps. No matter what you choose, tell us after of your tournament preparations, and Apricot's regalia for the competition. Constance Let me tell you what you do not feel. You do not feel the world turn wrong ways around and hurl you from it. You do not feel the earth crack and shudder in rage. You do not feel angry clouds gather to block the sun nor hear the cries of birds forced from their perches in fright. You have not done wrong and the world has not rebuked your efforts. As to whether you have done right, you can judge from the shining eyes and sticky hands of the children, who are alive and as well as can be here today, and the pile of gifts that Robena is going to have to set somewhere so she can go and be in a tournament and win glory for her Lady Marianne. Tell us why you nevertheless feel discontent and what remains on your mind for the afternoon. Will you watch the tournament?</s> <\|message\|>Robena Coilleghille There is certainly something amiss with this priestess, Robena decides. She hasn't been insulted before in such a strange way. The priestess has implied that she was dishonourable for even asking after her opponent before a match! She then advised her to beg Constance for use of one of her sacrifices as though she was powerless to intercede with Xristos without it. And in the same breath to speak in such a mercenary way about its value! She narrows her eyes askance at the woman, wondering if she is perhaps a faerie impersonating a priestess for some arcane trick. More likely she is merely dealing with a chatterbox with very strange opinions. "I already possess a crucifix, mater," said Robena steadily. "Moreover one that was cast in the Kingdom of Jerusalem, as I am newly returned from the holy land. That should be sufficient for the new ways, but for the old I intend to ask Constance for a favour to bear into battle. You need not feel bound to these, ah, new customs of knightly secrecy when it comes to either of these facts." And that indeed is the first matter of tournament preparation - to go down on bended knee before Lady Constance and request from her a favour for the tournament and offer to fight in her name. It would be a poor knight indeed who took to the lists without a maiden's kerchief to protect her. Robena herself has sat out a handful of tournaments when she could find no lady willing to sponsor her before the bouts. Some kingdoms consider her caution mere superstition, but she has not fallen from the saddle yet. Apricot's regalia and her colours, however, are as faded from dust and rain as they have ever been. Robena has done what she could to polish her armour but she lacks coin and squire both, and so will have to ride dressed in the weathered and faded colours that unite all knights of the road.</s>	<\|message\|>Tristan Kuwabatake-Fletcher Tristan agrees with Nin's case and defers to their expertise and judgement. However we find the thing, now, will be done without dissent. I'll also leave it up to Nin's judgement whether Tristan takes his polearm or not: It's big, cumbersome, and it shouldn't be needed for an exploratory mission. He'll have his much lighter knife and bow either way. It's Nin's decision on whether they are planning for a fight, or planning to avoid it.</s>
<\|description\|>Tristan Kuwabatake-Fletcher The Troll-Killer Bold: +0 Good: -1 Strong: +1 Wary: +2 Weird: +1 Rights: I have an enchanted weapon When I encounter something unnatural, I have the right to roll Weird. On 10+, I ask the MC 2 of the following. On 7–9, ask 1. • Is this a thing of old ways, new ways, or ways unknown to me? • What manner of person made this thing, or is it its own? • For what does this thing hunger, or by what has it sated itself? • What would this thing make the world into, if it only could? On a miss, ask 1, but the thing may ask a question of you in return, from this list or of its own devising. Answer truthfully. I have the right to slay whom I must for the protection of all In single combat, I have the right to spend 1 more than my roll alone would allow Who? I am the son of an expert warrior who has trained me well, and an English bowyer. My father is part of a company of elite warriors who have been exiled from their homeland who travelled far, following the legends of Rome, in search of a new place of Lords to sell their swords and undertake new duties. The chivalric code of conduct came naturally to many of the Exiles, who integrated it with their own. As the second generation, I have been taught this synthesis of chivalry and of my father's strict martial traditions. My father was also a deeply spiritual man, but not a Christian. It is both his spiritualism and the esoteric faiths of my mother's England that I have been raised with, and that I also put a great importance in. I am no longer a child, but I am still defined by being my father's son. His reputation is fearsome, and his People, the Pilgrims in Exile, are my people as well - together they try to rebuild as much of their traditions as they can pass down to the next generation. While I am inspired by their legacy, I am also an Englishman. I will build my own legacy, that of an English Knight, from the tools that my People have given me. This is why I have struck out on my own, out from under my People's shadow. I have no land, no titles, and as yet few deeds to my name. I carry my father's bow and my mother's arrows, my People's knowledge, and a heart and mind uniquely my own. Here is my vow: I will be Just, Courageous and Compassionate. In all things I will show Integrity, Honour and Loyalty. I must never strike in anger, and I will spill no unneeded blood. If blood need be spilled, I must cut decisively and with true intent. I seek honour in duty and I seek greatness through my service to all. People: The Pilgrims in Exile, of which I am typical (of my generation) They are bound by a single common experience They are a warrior order, 16 souls in 16 households of 16 warriors They are lean and tawny-brown They mostly speak Latin with mixed fluencies, due to following the Pax Romana from their homeland Stats: +1 War, +1 Rites, 0 Wealth War: They are known for their physical prowess and their individual skill at arms Rites: They are known for their fearlessness in the face of death and their patience in suffering Wealth: They are known for their craft and skill Household: I have a humble place in another's household The household is an Inn at which I am hosted by the Innkeeper's charity Horse and stables Tenants A kitchen, pantry and buttery Debts Personal belongings: Distinctive clothing of a sky-blue silk shirt, and black gambeson trousers. An elaborate black quiver with blue silk thread stitching. I am without ornament, though my hair is tied back in a distinctive tight bun My drinking cup is lacquered wood of fine craft My knife is of long cord-wrapped iron. Arms and Armor: A dagger (2 harm) A bardiche (3 harm) Hide armor (1 armor) A leather helmet (1 armor) An enchanted bow of ancient yew (4 harm at range, can harm non-flesh creatures) Has a bounty of fur and a bounty of meat</s> <\|message\|>Tristan Kuwabatake-Fletcher Tristan is pretty relieved that he didn't bring his polearm, after all. A long day would have been made longer for it. Now he can take his bow in both hands. He nocks an arrow and takes aim at the badger. He has no killing intent, and the arrow will not fly. But he has been taught to calm his mind while firing and so stillness comes most naturally to him while he is aiming. The two are as practiced as each other now, and doing one leads most naturally to doing the other. When he draws, everything disappears but for him and the target. The field is gone - he is close enough to reach out and touch it. [2d6+1=9 - I ask one: I think the most useful question to ask here is: What would this thing make the world into, if it only could?]</s> <\|message\|>Kenina "Nin" Haig While Tristan focuses on the beast, Nin observes their surroundings (+Wary: 5+5+2 = 12), casting a wary eye for any clues or details easily missed. There must be something besides the beast itself to see here. What does she see?</s> <\|message\|>Lostwithiel Castle Robena Revel for a moment in being one of the greatest knights to ever serve Lostwithiel! Your arm is strong, your aim sure. If you were less well-armed or less committed to your skill, the Azure knight would be a terrifying opponent, one who might well slay a lesser knight or unhorse them in an instant. But for you, arranged in your majestic cloak and seated surely atop Apricot, there is little risk even against a cursed knight such as this. The Azure knight spurs her horse to a gallop, sets her lance, but despite her skill and unnatural stillness, she realizes just before the approach that yours is the stronger charge. You can see that she has a moment to choose, a single instant to decide whether to set her shield and turn the blow, losing her balance in the process, or whether to take the blow head on and try to match you. For a moment, it appears as though she'll do the sane thing and protect herself from a severe wound, but in the last instant, she sets her lance straight and matches yours. As your lance penetrates her mail and strikes what is probably a rib, it breaks and you hear the first sound from her: a rough grunt that makes you think from its tenor that she may be lighter than she appears with her full armor. A small red stain turns her surcoat into a shade of purple. However, she does not lose her balance, but if she keeps up like this, she may well be killed. Rearm yourself and tell us how you approach the second pass. [The Azure knight spends 2: both on position. She inflicts 4 harm and has 3 armor, matching your position but suffering a wound in the process. From the tie, she will spend her full 3 on position in the next pass, intent on winning the contest at any cost to herself.] Constance You sway and the Master of Arms (what was his name, by the by?) stands and catches you. The Duchess Marianne looks at you with a mixture of frustration and hope. This is obviously the wrong time: you're late, disrupting the tournament, and anything she does to respond to your wild gestures now will force the jousting knights to stop, a deep disrespect to their contest. The Azure knight has not even spoken yet, and they are rearming for their second pass as you arrived. Cerwen is looking at you with obvious worry, the master of arms is trying gently but firmly to press you into your seat. Yet for all that, it's clear the Duchess wants to respond to you. She trusts you Constance, trusts the old ways, the visions, and the magic that runs through her veins. That trust, that faith in her heart is why Lostwithiel noticed the rot and stands against it now. Press her now for a response and you'll strain that trust, you will be asking a great deal, but she will do it and let you offer a pronouncement to the tournament. Or, wait, sit, question her other advisors, show your grace towards the combatants and you may have a stronger position later. How urgent is your vision, lady? Tristan You tune out your surroundings, all your attention at the point of your arrow. You follow that imaginary shot as it strikes the badger, as the creature, surprised and wounded, might retreat into a tunnel. In your mind's eye you follow it underground, to cool mud and deep earth beneath the great roots of trees. If it had the health and the energy, it would dig forever, uprooting the fields and ruining the crops. It wants the weight of great trees above it, that dampness of the roots and the sense of weight that is its heart and home. It would ruin and destroy, make the world into empty, barren land from which new seeds would spread and grow until the forest overgrew it all. It is patient for such things and cares not for the starvation of people in how it wishes the world to be. But you have not fired that shot, and all this dances only in your mind's eye. Nin [I gather the intended move is take stock, so I will answer as to the terrain and your options here] You are in a large field of wheat. Its primary characteristic is that there is little variation: farmers working the land have made it flat, even, and thick with the stalks, though some are crushed or turned from the great badger. The soil is mostly dry, easy to move quietly and lightly with little sign even for the trained. Slipping away would be the easiest thing in the world, you could bring yourself to safety and further observe or follow the creature in near complete safety. That would be the simplest way to end this encounter, though it wouldn't solve your ultimate problem. Your strength is your surprise. The beast is surely strong enough to do you great harm if enraged, and once it knows itself to be in real danger, it may flee or attack aggressively, leaving you in uncertainty. So the best way to remain strong is to preserve your surprise and use it for the greatest possible effect. Perhaps a trap of some sort combined with Tristan's bow, though even that is unlikely to bring it down in a single blow, more likely to wound it badly and scare it off. That would solve the immediate urgency of the situation, perhaps giving you time to learn more, though you would need to be willing to severely wound the monster to do that.</s> <\|message\|>Robena Coilleghille Everyone's always gotta be a damn hero. Many horses are quicker than Apricot on their hooves, but there isn't an equine in the world who can hold a candle to the speed with which he can come to a stop. He even lowers his head to chomp at a cluster of buttercups he saw by the side of the lists. It's an incredible act of disrespect but it's also a calculated one - her warhorse is smart enough to determine instantly when her heart is too conflicted to keep him under control. Horse like this can't be driven half-heartedly. And Apricot's been here before. Some stupid kid who doesn't know when she's beaten, who thinks that 'skill' and 'determination' are magic balms that'll add two feet to their height and two hands to their biceps, up against a knight who's trying to figure out how to gently disabuse them. Sometimes a curse is involved, but it doesn't need to be. What's important is that Robena is too distracted to put her back into cussing him out, and that's the same as a ducal invitation to relax. Robena grumbles and flicks the horse's ear irritably. He gives her a dirty look like she's the asshole here. Some squires are running over but Robena has already stepped down off the saddle and hefted her enormous wooden practice-ax over her shoulders. A forester's pose, never quite forgotten from her youth, held steady as she ponders. She's abandoning the joust. There's only so much you can do to avoid hurting someone when several tonnes of charging horseflesh are involved. She's going to take this to the melee where her opponent has less control over what does and doesn't get hurt. She doesn't feel the need to justify this decision; everyone in attendance saw a knight drop their shield and take a body blow. Already the healers and wicker-wise will be rushing to check that nothing was pierced, but she doesn't doubt the Azure Knight will wave them off. [Take Stock: 7. What can I observe about this curse, and what might break it?]</s>	<\|message\|>Tristan Kuwabatake-Fletcher "I fear if I shoot it, it might flee where we can not follow." Tristan lets the string back slowly, still watching the badger as the peripheral world swims back into attention. "This is not what I would like it to be. I had hoped we could lead it home, and it would do no further harm. But I think it is offended by our presence here. If we wound it and it flees, it will be in great pain, and it will most likely exact a greater pain in retribution after some time. If we are to be about this ugly business, let it be decisive." "We need the wind of surprise at our back to carry us. In that I see two options: I attack it with such fury it faces us. Or we trap it, and execute it. The second seems more sensible but... there is less virtue in it." Read: Killing something in a trap would make Tristan sad. "We may be at the limit of what can be gained from stalking. I see no further advantage we could gain, can think of no more favourable terrain to face it in." The arrow is still nocked and steady, the owner is under more tension than the bow. Tristan will be indecisive until it is time to act. He does not want to be the one to call the hour. What weighs on his mind is that he does not want Nin to get hurt in a fight, but he does not want to insult Nin by voicing this. He holds Nin in great respect, and would cut out his tongue than risk implying otherwise. It is only fair they get to decide the level of acceptable risk.</s>
<\|description\|>Tristan Kuwabatake-Fletcher The Troll-Killer Bold: +0 Good: -1 Strong: +1 Wary: +2 Weird: +1 Rights: I have an enchanted weapon When I encounter something unnatural, I have the right to roll Weird. On 10+, I ask the MC 2 of the following. On 7–9, ask 1. • Is this a thing of old ways, new ways, or ways unknown to me? • What manner of person made this thing, or is it its own? • For what does this thing hunger, or by what has it sated itself? • What would this thing make the world into, if it only could? On a miss, ask 1, but the thing may ask a question of you in return, from this list or of its own devising. Answer truthfully. I have the right to slay whom I must for the protection of all In single combat, I have the right to spend 1 more than my roll alone would allow Who? I am the son of an expert warrior who has trained me well, and an English bowyer. My father is part of a company of elite warriors who have been exiled from their homeland who travelled far, following the legends of Rome, in search of a new place of Lords to sell their swords and undertake new duties. The chivalric code of conduct came naturally to many of the Exiles, who integrated it with their own. As the second generation, I have been taught this synthesis of chivalry and of my father's strict martial traditions. My father was also a deeply spiritual man, but not a Christian. It is both his spiritualism and the esoteric faiths of my mother's England that I have been raised with, and that I also put a great importance in. I am no longer a child, but I am still defined by being my father's son. His reputation is fearsome, and his People, the Pilgrims in Exile, are my people as well - together they try to rebuild as much of their traditions as they can pass down to the next generation. While I am inspired by their legacy, I am also an Englishman. I will build my own legacy, that of an English Knight, from the tools that my People have given me. This is why I have struck out on my own, out from under my People's shadow. I have no land, no titles, and as yet few deeds to my name. I carry my father's bow and my mother's arrows, my People's knowledge, and a heart and mind uniquely my own. Here is my vow: I will be Just, Courageous and Compassionate. In all things I will show Integrity, Honour and Loyalty. I must never strike in anger, and I will spill no unneeded blood. If blood need be spilled, I must cut decisively and with true intent. I seek honour in duty and I seek greatness through my service to all. People: The Pilgrims in Exile, of which I am typical (of my generation) They are bound by a single common experience They are a warrior order, 16 souls in 16 households of 16 warriors They are lean and tawny-brown They mostly speak Latin with mixed fluencies, due to following the Pax Romana from their homeland Stats: +1 War, +1 Rites, 0 Wealth War: They are known for their physical prowess and their individual skill at arms Rites: They are known for their fearlessness in the face of death and their patience in suffering Wealth: They are known for their craft and skill Household: I have a humble place in another's household The household is an Inn at which I am hosted by the Innkeeper's charity Horse and stables Tenants A kitchen, pantry and buttery Debts Personal belongings: Distinctive clothing of a sky-blue silk shirt, and black gambeson trousers. An elaborate black quiver with blue silk thread stitching. I am without ornament, though my hair is tied back in a distinctive tight bun My drinking cup is lacquered wood of fine craft My knife is of long cord-wrapped iron. Arms and Armor: A dagger (2 harm) A bardiche (3 harm) Hide armor (1 armor) A leather helmet (1 armor) An enchanted bow of ancient yew (4 harm at range, can harm non-flesh creatures) Has a bounty of fur and a bounty of meat</s> <\|message\|>Tristan Kuwabatake-Fletcher Sir Hector's grievance splits him down the middle as sure as an axe; At once, he does not understand not taking pride and pleasure in all the good you can do. On the other, he cannot imagine how it must feel to be stopped from doing the good that you are capable of. What was he here to do? He had been here to play his part in someone else's legacy. In this, he and Hector were the same. Where they differed is that Tristan holds no resentment for a lesser part. Doesn't he? He looks inside himself and, no, finds only contentment there. "You speak as though already dead, Sir Hector." Tristan teases, smiling. "As if you have been robbed of the only part you could ever play. But you have lost only a chance - not the skills, the training, or the will. What if there is another? If someone stumbles, who else stands ready to replace them?" Not empty words. How much of this was Tristan expecting to deal with, when he agreed to fight alongside Robena and Sandsfern that night? So sure he knew the real interpretation of a second-hand prophecy about the Questing Beast? "I don't really know what to do now." Tristan admits. "But we live in interesting times. I couldn't have predicted any of this, a year ago. What sense is there predicting a year hence? Or five, or ten?" And, again, the most sincere and reassuring smile he is capable of, because it is how he really feels. "You're ready to answer when you are called, no matter how great the call. How much better that, than to be called before you are ready?" Ask Tristan if he feels like he is ready to answer when he is called, and for the first time he might say 'yes'. He feels prepared, now, in a way that another thousand-thousand archery drills would have left him wanting. He had only ever thought about needing the skills to prepare him for anything - thinking exclusively in terms of what he lacked. Sir Hector asks him instead to ask; What task is worthy of his skills? It's the first time he has been forced to consider what he is ready for, and not just what he isn't. It's... a pleasant change of perspective. He hopes things are going well with Constance, despite having no idea what that could even mean.</s> <\|message\|>Lostwithiel Castle All It is, as it always is, the unlikeliest chance that things should be as they are. That you should be here. That Hector should have smiled at Tristan and held onto a ray of hope of things never done. That Constance may have smiled in a secret night too dark by her direction for anyone to see it. That Robena may have gone to bed and perhaps, just perhaps, smiled when she reflected on her own choice. The final day of hunts does not greet you merrily, but with a growl. Sleet-thick winds strike at the castle stones and batter the windows. The clouds are gray and menacing, the sun a distant glow behind them, little more than a hint that it exists. The trees creek and crack, the snow crackles, and there is no sign of life or movement, though the scouts nevertheless went out before danw to find the boar trail. And yet...the full downpour holds itself in abeyance. Or is held, perhaps? Who could say what confluence of powers is at war in the heavens, after all? Robena You are met at dawn, such as it is, by Sir Hector. Though she has been loathe to speak with you to date, she stands before your room politely while you ready yourself. She already wears her own hunting gear: a long fur cape over her armor, a greatbow slung over her back and a great boar-spear with its high hilt held in one hand. She has prepared a sharpened boar spear for your use as well, held cautiously away from you in her other hand. For today is the boar hunt. The boar stands as the symbol of endurance and ferocious power. It has always been the pinnacle of the hunt. Not cunning or villainous, not fast, never lithe. But powerful, dangerous, and fighting to the last. The spear that Hector presents you is unadorned, but of the highest quality, with a good firm grip wrapped in leather and a point that does not show a single flaw upon it. This is a fine compliment, and one that you would not know what you have done to deserve. It is, after all, a favor to Tristan, not to you. How do you ready yourself for the final hunt on this harsh day? Constance, Tristan You are permitted, if you wish it, to sleep in. The castle is focused on Robena's last hunt, and for the early morning there is nothing else to be done. It is dark, gray, and entirely unlike a day anyone would wish to rise to meet. But you can wake, if you wish, and bathe or chat. Or you can wait, and go to see the lady Sauvage when she calls upon you mid-morning. She will not be joining the hunt at all this day, not even from a distance, and wishes instead to see you. This is a fell thing, for she has doffed most of her humanity on this last day. Her dress is a somber blueish gray, and her skin has faded to match. Her mouth is pursed, and her hands look almost as stone perched on the gilded sides of her throne. Her doom and with it the last remnants of her existence, is coming to an end. Perhaps the weather is a reflection of her mood. Or one that combats her? Regardless, she turns with the barest of motions, not to Constance, but to Tristan first. "Most unexpected" she says, her face nearly still save for her lips blue with cold. "What...do you think of the knights I have gathered here?" Is that, perhaps, the smallest of smiles at the edge of her lips? What an unlikely chance.</s> <\|message\|>Robena Coilleghille On the dawn of this, the final day of her life? She does not know enough latin to talk to god. She has no friends who could keep up through days of drink. None of her kisses have lingered. No liege lord will regret her passage, no small folk will feel her loss. She has passed through the world like a passing storm and now she's to fly away into Okeanos and vanish forever. She's not complex enough to be a true person, she decides. A true person has roots. Friends, connections, community. A stability in hearth and heart, loves that take years to build and don't flash out like a thunderbolt from clear air. She's more like an animal, an illiterate bear knight who has lived her whole life in moments. And so she has resolved to spend this final morning with those she understands. She spends it with the dogs, patting and playing and casting sticks so far even the swiftest of them cannot catch them before they hit the earth. She spends the final morning with her bastard of a horse, brushing his mane and tail and indulging his endless appetite. She spends an hour of the final morning sitting quietly and patiently enough to convince a cat to grace her with a brief sniff on the hand and brush against her legs. The kindest thing about the animals is that they can form friendships in the brief time given to a wanderer or a condemned woman. And so Robena spends her last morning with them. Perhaps she was not to be a knight for Britain, a knight for maidens, a knight for God. But perhaps she can be a knight for beasts.</s>	<\|message\|>Tristan Kuwabatake-Fletcher Constance had returned seeming... better for lack of a better word, which told Tristan his watch that night would be unneeded, unwanted. He'd taken that as a reason to retire early. The day is dark, and gray, but it is a day, and Tristan is alive to meet it. There is good food in the kitchen for breakfast, warm fireplaces and libraries. Tristan is too anxious to read by half, but he's got a lot of thoughts and he's out of practice with his poetic forms. He could talk to Liana about polishing them if he were to give them an audience, but for now it's just to get his thoughts on the page. For an hour he sits and stares at a blank page, composing and recomposing in his head. It saves crossing out the endless mistakes, heaps of crumpled balls thrown in the fireplace. It would be a crime to waste the paper. The quill does not dip in ink until, finally, he gets it. Here at winter's end The future lies in ambush I rise to meet it. There's no sense in scolding himself that it should not have taken that long. Such things take as long as they take. What is important is that he is content with it - feels grateful to have finished it just before he is summoned. The Lady's question takes Tristan by surprise, and he bows in deference, using the long moment to collect his thoughts. Again he's flipping a mindset on a dime - he's still felt like he has so much to learn about them that he's not made any conclusions. "I like them," Tristan offers, lamely. "They're kind. I must admit, I wish I understood them better. Mostly I wonder... Where will they go, after this? Do you know?" He worries for Harold. He is intrigued by Hector. And he is curious, to say the least, for the still mysterious Liliana. He glances to Constance, whose thoughts are just as mysterious to him, but takes solace in her countenance - far better than the one she bore here, not long ago.</s>
<\|description\|>Kenina "Nin" Haig The Outranger Bold +0 Good +1 Strong -1 Wary +2 Weird +1 Harm 3 Armor 2 MEETING DEATH I will live to be 100. RIGHTS You have the right to keep yourself and those in your charge safe in hostile or enemy territory. You have the right to find your way by road or trail to your destination. When you undertake to do so, roll Wary. On 10+, all three of the following are true. On 7–9, choose 2; the third is false. * You find your way at once, without much casting about for it. * The way is direct, with little meandering or backtracking. * The way is safe, and does not bring you near your enemies. On a miss, choose 1; the other 2 are false. You have the right to observe the landscape unnoticed. When you try to do so, roll Wary. On 10+, you're able to watch as long as you choose. Ask the MC what you see, and tell the MC when you slip away. On 7–9, you're able to watch for a time. Ask the MC what you see and when you must slip away to avoid discovery. On a miss, choose: * Slip away now, having seen only what you've seen. * Stay and watch. Ask the MC what you see before you're noticed, and then whether you have the chance to flee. You have the right to step out of your earthly life and journey in other places. When you choose to do so, roll Weird. On 10+, you choose your destination, and you have both wits and strength therein. On 7–9, you choose your destination, but the first time you miss a roll in that other world, you return at once to earthly life. On a miss, the MC chooses your destination. BELONGINGS - Staff (3 harm) - Hide armor (1 armor) - Leather helmet (1 armor) - Traveling cloak - Well-worn boots - Goat's horn (drinking cup) - Bone-handled knife - 1 bounty of food (goats milk products) MY HOUSEHOLD, of which I am the head, has: - goats - a dairy - a kitchen, pantry & buttery NIN'S PEOPLE They are all who live in a certain place. They are small, diverse. They speak Scottish. They number 50 souls in 6 households, including 8 warriors Rites +2 They are known for: * Their insularity * Their sorcery and enchantments * Their celebrations War -1 They are known for: * Their strategy and tactics Wealth 0 They are known for: * Their craft and skill EXPERIENCE [ ][ ][ ] A right of your own [x][ ][ ] A right of the Land Itself [ ][ ][ ] A right of the New Nobility [ ][ ][ ] A right of the Old Ways [ ][ ][ ] A right of the Other World [ ][ ][ ] A right of Personal Prowess [ ][ ][ ] A right of War [ ][ ][ ] A right of the Wider World The Ungiven Future [ ][ ][ ] Abandon this character to die [ ][ ][ ] Assume a mantle [ ][ ][ ] Awaken something terrible [ ][ ][ ] Create an inheritor to play [ ][ ][ ] The Ungiven</s> <\|message\|>High King Uther Pendragon The warm breeze of early summer ripples the forest green pennants strung atop the keep walls of Lostwithiel like emerald waves upon the ocean. The high season of campaigning is going to begin next week and the Duchess Marianne has determined to host a tournament to honor her brave knights, entertain the common folk, and perhaps attract a few new followers to her banner. This could easily be the most festive day of the year. Visiting knights saddle their horses with blankets and armor in the brightest colors of their house and the entire keep market is alive with the buzzing and murmuring of goods being traded. You can hear a mixture of delight from the merchants and low grumbling from the peasants who are, to a soul, convinced that they are being cheated in every deal but nevertheless pleased to find a few special objects and new tools to take home with them. Everything would be perfect, save that some of the knights are giving sidelong glances to their squires and watching their surroundings more keenly than you'd expect. And that perhaps a few more of the peasants and laborers are looking a little gaunt coming out of the spring. Small reminders that the roads are less safe than they were and the harvest less bountiful. But for today, they need not pay such troubles any heed. Constance and Robena Constance has been tasked with blessing the turning of the seasons to welcome the coming of summer. Robena, you have been tasked to accompany her and act as her honor guard, a high honor within the keep celebrating your welcome return. Your own match in the tournament is scheduled for later in the day and you'll have time to prepare for it. Constance, how did you spend the past season and what's the fae rumor that's worrying you as you make small talk with Robena? Robena, how did you spend the past season and what gives you confidence for the day? Oh, and you may wish to seek information on your opponent, who you know is called the Azure Knight but have never met before. Nin and Tristan Some of the supplies for the evening's feast have not arrived and you've heard ill rumors from a few of the peasants arriving most recently. It may be that the roads are worse even than people are willing to say, and the court has tasked you with looking into the matter quickly to ensure that everyone arriving for the tournament is well-fed. Tell us who you seek in town for information and how you start the...hunt let's call it. Nin, how did you spend the last season and how has it prepared you to journey this summer? Tristan, how did you spend the last season and what do you look forward to doing this summer?</s> <\|message\|>Tristan Kuwabatake-Fletcher Spring has meant four hours a day of archery practice. It's been a productive season; If the winds are gentle, he can't miss a bullseye from fifty paces now, and his muscles have grown to take the strain. Practicing while wearing armor has been an added challenge from previous years. In summer the humid nights will make for good practice at working in the darkness - learning to hone his eyes to see without the aid of torchlight, to shoot and fight in it, to better see using his ears and nose. It also means sleeping through the muggy days instead of enduring them, heavenly. When he's not training, he's preparing in other ways, trading labour for lessons from any traveller who has a skill worth learning. Lessons in sewing and in stitching wounds, the administering and treatment of poisons, knowledge in common law and uncommon lore. Anything and everything he can do to make use of the time his body heals in. For summer? He plans for more of the same. He's a tight little ball of youthful ambition, Tristan. He doesn't know when the time will come for him to prove himself, but he knows it can be measured in days. Taking breaks from his training fills him with needle-pains in his stomach and an unbearable itch in his limbs. One lesson that hasn't stuck is learning how to chill out. All work and no play makes Tristan a sharp tool and a dull boy. He's chomping at the bit to take to the woods with a hammock and a pack of provisions and make ambush. Or if the threat is more than he can take, to stalk the threat to its hideout and bring the news back to the stronghold. But Nin is the specialist here, at tracking and trailing. He stomps down his impatience as he takes to Nin's side, but he's still vibrating with enthusiasm to be helpful as best he can. These are the moments he lives for.</s>	<\|message\|>Kenina "Nin" Haig When Nin came to this land years ago, it was in a traveling carriage drawn by a single pair of young goats. Since then, she's mostly left the carriage parked near the edges of town, in favor of traveling on foot or goatback. It still serves as her home, however, and she's managed to make it quite a comfortable home too. The two goats have since become a small flock. The younger goats aren't quite like the two she started with—not quite like the goats of her homeland—because naturally she's had to breed them with local goats. But they're still very fine goats, if she's allowed to say so herself. The past few years, her flock has grown, and this spring she's spent herding them around the countryside. Keeping an eye on her herd, keeping them safe and on the right path is a good way to spend her days and also gives her plenty of opportunity to explore the lands. There are few places a goat can't wander, and Nin follows to keep them safe. She's also begun selling them and their products on the market, not that she intends for it to become a living on its own, but trade is a good way to ... keep an eye and an ear on what goes on in the local community. You get to know the kinds of people who tend to know other people, and at the market you hear a lot of things if you only keep your ears open. That's what she's been doing, and if anyone knows about supply routes and missing supplies, it's surely the traders at the market. What has she already heard? * Tristan is impatient to get out of the city and hunt something, Nin can tell (it's not hard to tell), but hunting is mostly a waiting game. It's about lying still and listening, observing, waiting for the right signs. Right now they need to find the right trail to follow, and that starts with missing supplies. If she hasn't already heard something that'll put her on the trail, someone among the traders will know what she needs to know.</s>
<\|description\|>Robena Coilleghille The War Champion, returned pilgrim from distant Jerusalem Accomplished Held in honor and acclaim Never forgetful of my mortality. Dark forests breed strong knights. Much has changed in the Bear Knight's absence. The land has rotted, the king is mad, and evil taints the hearts of once gracious knights. This is not the home remembered by the slender squire girl setting off on her first adventure. Much has changed on the journey too. No longer do you see a tall, lanky willow-branch of a girl drowning in her tangled bearskin cloak. Now there stands before you a giant of a warrior with lance and axe and armour and the scars where armour fails. She has lost her skittish English mare, replaced with a huge and cold-blooded draft horse. She has lost her nervous stutter and wide-eyed curiosity, replaced with an austere economy of word and deed. She has lost the lady she was sworn to serve, and all of her brash and unseemly influences - replaced with a heartache and powerful sense of purpose. Her coin purse is empty, her traveling companions are lost, and too many innocences have been left behind. Many of these things you will know. Songs speed ahead of her and her constant delays, for never has she let a bandit or beast or blackguard pass her by. It has been a long road home, the kind of tale that makes girls dream of the Holy Land and the legend the journey will make of them. But even still she does not have the manner of one who has returned home. There is still more to do. My household and lands are in disarray. Once I held a place of honour in the household of Lady Alitel Sandsfern. As a squire chosen from the common folk for strength and courage, I was to serve as knight and bodyguard to the young countess. Once these lands had great orchards, meadows and pastures, forests and timber, enormous wealth and a fortified citadel overlooking a fast-flowing river. Now the tower is a scorched ruin, stone melted and fused, the woods are wild and overgrown, and the population has fled. My arms and armour befit a questing knight. Helm, mail, lance, and great woodsman's axe - all as befit my rank, all worn from use. A bow and arrow are fitted for hunting small game, and come with a hunter's patience. A jeweled dagger is all that indicates I ever sat close to wealth, though it has since tasted both bread and blood. My bearskin cloak covers me, and to this day more than a dozen daggers and arrows are stuck within its tangled thickness. My warhorse moves with a ponderousness that has once seen a priest attempt to exorcise from him the demon of sloth - though watch your apples closely for he can strike like an adder when properly motivated. My heraldry was once forest green and ivory white in checker patterns, though the road has rendered them black-grey and weathered cream. My crest is that of a great Irish-haired bear. I wear a tabard and a pale space on my index finger where a ring was once exchanged for coin. In one of my many packs I carry two formal dresses; one in the style of the Byzantines, and a much less modest one in the style of the Persians. I wear raking scars across my face, shoulders and chest from some ferocious animal. My left hand's scars suggest burns. No scars mark my back. My countenance is shaped by the wilderness. Stone green eyes soften and heavy hands become gentle as they watch the wind and reach for a flute that they might sing to it in turn. On the soft grass of the hills, in the shadow of ancient trees, wild hair flowing with the breeze, I seem to fit in the world perfectly. Such harmony is difficult to find in the world of men. There I must duck my head when going through doorways, I must sacrifice many good combs to bring my raven hair to terms, I must bow far more deeply than my peers to bring my head lower than my sovereign, and I must remember that things are perhaps more fragile than I would like them to be. My name is Robena Coilleghille, though once (and perhaps still) I dreamed of taking another's. Bold +1 Good 0 Strong +2 Wary +1 Weird -1 With my full panoply of battle, I have 4 harm and 4 armour. I have the right to be known by reputation. When I meet someone who should know of me, roll +Strong. On a 10+ they have heard of me, and I declare what they have heard. On a 7-9, they know simply to admire or fear me. On a 6-, I yet again curse the name of the bard Yomdaeler who decided to use my name to revitalize her failing career. I have the right to own an enchanted item. The monstrous, scarred questing-bear I fought had a hide that could not be pierced by any weapon - I slew it unarmed. Its fur now provides +1 armour and immunity to any surprise attacks. In single combat, I have the right to spend 1 more than my roll would allow. No mysterious skill empowers me; I am simply larger and stronger than the majority of those I encounter. I have the right to own a trained warhorse and own a kite shield. My current horse is named Apricot. I wish I had the good sense to take some apricot seeds back to England with me. Fool. I will live to be one hundred. Experiences:</s> <\|message\|>Tristan Kuwabatake-Fletcher Tristan nods. "That makes sense. My fear is that if we meet it before we understand the problem, it will not let us observe it, ending in bloodshed. I had thought - if it is a place it cannot go back to, it is a place we cannot find by following it. We could look for where it cannot be, but could have been? Perhaps where a new mineshaft has been cut? Or a dam has formed in an inconvenient place?" To observe without being observed is an unforgiving art: A thousand rights are undone by a single wrong. Tristan's more hesitant about that single point of failure than he is about the thing itself.</s> <\|message\|>Robena Coilleghille A cross of gold. Robena's mind turns a darker way. A lot of crosses of gold in the guts of the dragon-boats - if not atop the hoards of dragons proper. It hung from her neck like a stone and she wondered why Xristos' blood could not be caught with the wooden cup of a carpenter than the jewels and ornaments that accumulated too easily in the hands of priests. The sin of striking a holy woman was deep enough that it seemed uncharitable to tempt wayward hands into it with wealth. A melancholy cloud passes over her even as Summer is welcomed unto the earth. Perhaps this is a land where such things are unthinkable and all the knights are true. A scent on the breeze like rotting flesh tells her this is not so. "Mm," she demurs to the priestess' question. A strange one. Who wouldn't know Constance river-blessed? Who did this priestess take her for? This question indicated that she knew Robena not at all, and yet asked this stranger about her relation to another. To what end? She opted to answer with an enigma in turn. "And you know the Azure Knight?"</s> <\|message\|>Kenina "Nin" Haig "Until we know where it is, there is always a chance we'll run into it by pure chance before we're ready, or that it will find us before we find it, no matter where we go or what we do," Nin says. "That's why it's best to start by finding where it is; only then can you avoid running into it by accident. If you're worried about bloodshed, should it catch wind of us or should we fall right on top of it by accident, we can always retreat rather than fight." "And even if it is as you suspect, that it can't go back to where it came from, that don't mean we can't follow the trail it left back to its source. Or at least it will help us narrow our search."</s> <\|message\|>High King Uther Pendragon Nin and Tristan This is Nin's truest specialty: Striking out on the road for a journey. She possesses many options for finding her way, both by mundane roads and the smallest trail and by the more spiritual. Tristan, you are most empowered to learn when you encounter the beast, but Nin will get you where you're going and though there is time aplenty on the road to plan, it is time now to strike out. Talk as much as you wish, and when you're ready, Nin tell us how you find whatever of the beast you're seeking. I don't know precisely where it will be until you tell me how you find it, but I can tell you that it will be in the fields, with their tall golden wheat that still grows strong and proud. Even if the land is dryer and the seeds smaller than in past years, even if the treeline looms darkly not far away, the place where you find it somehow or other will be in the fields, in the tall grasses, the open sky and small clouds high and away above you. But that is all I know for now. Robena The priestess Cerwen turns to you with some hesitation. She clearly does not wish to talk about the Azure knight. "I know of her" she says slowly, selecting the words for that sentence with caution as Constance begins the proper ritual. "I would not fain speak of it to her opponent though" she adds hastily, obviously searching for some reason to avoid this discussion. "Surely, you wish a fair and honorable contest and ought to ask her yourself of her background when you meet her? Though if you are afraid that she is now in the service of the Duchess, you need not worry there. The Azure knight is a knight-errant and will not be here long after the tournament, I should think. Would you wish my favor for your match, God is a regal ally." She laughs nervously, confident that she's thrown you off the trail and changes the subject immediately. "Perhaps you ought ask the Lady of the Low if she might make my temporary gift more permanent. It was a present from the Duchess for my service and of no small value." She seems shockingly confident in her position to discuss the Duchess that way. Careful for her part, but utterly confident here, and therefore it's all the more strange that she doesn't want to discuss the Azure knight. You know enough about tournament rules that unless much has changed since you were gone, there's nothing wrong with asking about your opponent as long as you're not trying to gain an advantage on them. Perhaps Cerwen does have some sort of insider knowledge that she's afraid to reveal though. You might seek to win her as an ally, or accept what she offers as it stands, or reject her for misunderstanding you perhaps. No matter what you choose, tell us after of your tournament preparations, and Apricot's regalia for the competition. Constance Let me tell you what you do not feel. You do not feel the world turn wrong ways around and hurl you from it. You do not feel the earth crack and shudder in rage. You do not feel angry clouds gather to block the sun nor hear the cries of birds forced from their perches in fright. You have not done wrong and the world has not rebuked your efforts. As to whether you have done right, you can judge from the shining eyes and sticky hands of the children, who are alive and as well as can be here today, and the pile of gifts that Robena is going to have to set somewhere so she can go and be in a tournament and win glory for her Lady Marianne. Tell us why you nevertheless feel discontent and what remains on your mind for the afternoon. Will you watch the tournament?</s>	<\|message\|>Robena Coilleghille There is certainly something amiss with this priestess, Robena decides. She hasn't been insulted before in such a strange way. The priestess has implied that she was dishonourable for even asking after her opponent before a match! She then advised her to beg Constance for use of one of her sacrifices as though she was powerless to intercede with Xristos without it. And in the same breath to speak in such a mercenary way about its value! She narrows her eyes askance at the woman, wondering if she is perhaps a faerie impersonating a priestess for some arcane trick. More likely she is merely dealing with a chatterbox with very strange opinions. "I already possess a crucifix, mater," said Robena steadily. "Moreover one that was cast in the Kingdom of Jerusalem, as I am newly returned from the holy land. That should be sufficient for the new ways, but for the old I intend to ask Constance for a favour to bear into battle. You need not feel bound to these, ah, new customs of knightly secrecy when it comes to either of these facts." And that indeed is the first matter of tournament preparation - to go down on bended knee before Lady Constance and request from her a favour for the tournament and offer to fight in her name. It would be a poor knight indeed who took to the lists without a maiden's kerchief to protect her. Robena herself has sat out a handful of tournaments when she could find no lady willing to sponsor her before the bouts. Some kingdoms consider her caution mere superstition, but she has not fallen from the saddle yet. Apricot's regalia and her colours, however, are as faded from dust and rain as they have ever been. Robena has done what she could to polish her armour but she lacks coin and squire both, and so will have to ride dressed in the weathered and faded colours that unite all knights of the road.</s>
<\|description\|>Robena Coilleghille The War Champion, returned pilgrim from distant Jerusalem Accomplished Held in honor and acclaim Never forgetful of my mortality. Dark forests breed strong knights. Much has changed in the Bear Knight's absence. The land has rotted, the king is mad, and evil taints the hearts of once gracious knights. This is not the home remembered by the slender squire girl setting off on her first adventure. Much has changed on the journey too. No longer do you see a tall, lanky willow-branch of a girl drowning in her tangled bearskin cloak. Now there stands before you a giant of a warrior with lance and axe and armour and the scars where armour fails. She has lost her skittish English mare, replaced with a huge and cold-blooded draft horse. She has lost her nervous stutter and wide-eyed curiosity, replaced with an austere economy of word and deed. She has lost the lady she was sworn to serve, and all of her brash and unseemly influences - replaced with a heartache and powerful sense of purpose. Her coin purse is empty, her traveling companions are lost, and too many innocences have been left behind. Many of these things you will know. Songs speed ahead of her and her constant delays, for never has she let a bandit or beast or blackguard pass her by. It has been a long road home, the kind of tale that makes girls dream of the Holy Land and the legend the journey will make of them. But even still she does not have the manner of one who has returned home. There is still more to do. My household and lands are in disarray. Once I held a place of honour in the household of Lady Alitel Sandsfern. As a squire chosen from the common folk for strength and courage, I was to serve as knight and bodyguard to the young countess. Once these lands had great orchards, meadows and pastures, forests and timber, enormous wealth and a fortified citadel overlooking a fast-flowing river. Now the tower is a scorched ruin, stone melted and fused, the woods are wild and overgrown, and the population has fled. My arms and armour befit a questing knight. Helm, mail, lance, and great woodsman's axe - all as befit my rank, all worn from use. A bow and arrow are fitted for hunting small game, and come with a hunter's patience. A jeweled dagger is all that indicates I ever sat close to wealth, though it has since tasted both bread and blood. My bearskin cloak covers me, and to this day more than a dozen daggers and arrows are stuck within its tangled thickness. My warhorse moves with a ponderousness that has once seen a priest attempt to exorcise from him the demon of sloth - though watch your apples closely for he can strike like an adder when properly motivated. My heraldry was once forest green and ivory white in checker patterns, though the road has rendered them black-grey and weathered cream. My crest is that of a great Irish-haired bear. I wear a tabard and a pale space on my index finger where a ring was once exchanged for coin. In one of my many packs I carry two formal dresses; one in the style of the Byzantines, and a much less modest one in the style of the Persians. I wear raking scars across my face, shoulders and chest from some ferocious animal. My left hand's scars suggest burns. No scars mark my back. My countenance is shaped by the wilderness. Stone green eyes soften and heavy hands become gentle as they watch the wind and reach for a flute that they might sing to it in turn. On the soft grass of the hills, in the shadow of ancient trees, wild hair flowing with the breeze, I seem to fit in the world perfectly. Such harmony is difficult to find in the world of men. There I must duck my head when going through doorways, I must sacrifice many good combs to bring my raven hair to terms, I must bow far more deeply than my peers to bring my head lower than my sovereign, and I must remember that things are perhaps more fragile than I would like them to be. My name is Robena Coilleghille, though once (and perhaps still) I dreamed of taking another's. Bold +1 Good 0 Strong +2 Wary +1 Weird -1 With my full panoply of battle, I have 4 harm and 4 armour. I have the right to be known by reputation. When I meet someone who should know of me, roll +Strong. On a 10+ they have heard of me, and I declare what they have heard. On a 7-9, they know simply to admire or fear me. On a 6-, I yet again curse the name of the bard Yomdaeler who decided to use my name to revitalize her failing career. I have the right to own an enchanted item. The monstrous, scarred questing-bear I fought had a hide that could not be pierced by any weapon - I slew it unarmed. Its fur now provides +1 armour and immunity to any surprise attacks. In single combat, I have the right to spend 1 more than my roll would allow. No mysterious skill empowers me; I am simply larger and stronger than the majority of those I encounter. I have the right to own a trained warhorse and own a kite shield. My current horse is named Apricot. I wish I had the good sense to take some apricot seeds back to England with me. Fool. I will live to be one hundred. Experiences:</s> <\|message\|>Robena Coilleghille In the ancient stories, was He not offered the same choice? To leave the world of pain and vice and betrayal and heed the call of blood? To escape the X and the days spent in agony as each drop fell from His heart into the waiting chalice? Compared to that suffering a swift blow to the neck seemed a mercy, but still her heart recoiled from the inevitability of it the moment she saw there was another path. A hungry light filled her eyes, and she took Constance by the hand. Her blood, so hot, so base, so human spoke to her as it did to Him. Her heart pounded and the passion seemed like it would overwhelm her as it had so many times before. And then, at last, she understood. "I crave life," she said. "I crave it as I crave drink. I crave it as I crave battle. I crave it as I crave glory and praise and riches. I thought that my vices were individual things, a collection, an array of seven. I thought that because I could stand tall upon the field I was not a coward but the rage and battle lust felt to me then the exact same way as I felt when I craved your offer, the same feeling of passion that had me strike down the cursed King." For a moment the grip of her fingers was so hard, so trembling. She thought of battling the demons of her horse, and though the demons were no longer garbed in a tonne of muscle they were far more fearsome for all of it. "It is all one vice, Constance. One craving. My flesh hungers and my spirit is silent, and so hunger is my master. If I take your offer, unreconstructed, I shall become a faerie indeed but one from the worst of stories. Craving made immortal, grasping hands in an eternal garden, thief of children, shameless and free. I am not a flawed knight; true, but for one damnable mistake. I am a dragon caged in flesh no less than Lady Sandsfern, and the devil at the crossroads revealed the end of that path as a lesson to me. And here I stand upon a second crossroads, and this time the question of wishes is put to me alone." Her hand slipped away from Constance's as easily as air, when a moment before it had been holding with the terrified and terrifying strength of a fearful giant. "In that world you would be a maiden trapped in the talons of a dragon. Though you did not answer my question, you did so by omission: in that world you would not be happy. So I tell you, faerie-devil, Constance, one who I love too much to crave, I tell you of the one wish I do have: That you somehow find happiness." She looked away into a light, gleaming and distance. "Whatever that happiness is, I shall fight for it. I shall slay dragons for it, even if the dragon I must slay is within myself. A knight can do no less."</s> <\|message\|>Tristan Kuwabatake-Fletcher Sir Hector's grievance splits him down the middle as sure as an axe; At once, he does not understand not taking pride and pleasure in all the good you can do. On the other, he cannot imagine how it must feel to be stopped from doing the good that you are capable of. What was he here to do? He had been here to play his part in someone else's legacy. In this, he and Hector were the same. Where they differed is that Tristan holds no resentment for a lesser part. Doesn't he? He looks inside himself and, no, finds only contentment there. "You speak as though already dead, Sir Hector." Tristan teases, smiling. "As if you have been robbed of the only part you could ever play. But you have lost only a chance - not the skills, the training, or the will. What if there is another? If someone stumbles, who else stands ready to replace them?" Not empty words. How much of this was Tristan expecting to deal with, when he agreed to fight alongside Robena and Sandsfern that night? So sure he knew the real interpretation of a second-hand prophecy about the Questing Beast? "I don't really know what to do now." Tristan admits. "But we live in interesting times. I couldn't have predicted any of this, a year ago. What sense is there predicting a year hence? Or five, or ten?" And, again, the most sincere and reassuring smile he is capable of, because it is how he really feels. "You're ready to answer when you are called, no matter how great the call. How much better that, than to be called before you are ready?" Ask Tristan if he feels like he is ready to answer when he is called, and for the first time he might say 'yes'. He feels prepared, now, in a way that another thousand-thousand archery drills would have left him wanting. He had only ever thought about needing the skills to prepare him for anything - thinking exclusively in terms of what he lacked. Sir Hector asks him instead to ask; What task is worthy of his skills? It's the first time he has been forced to consider what he is ready for, and not just what he isn't. It's... a pleasant change of perspective. He hopes things are going well with Constance, despite having no idea what that could even mean.</s> <\|message\|>Lostwithiel Castle All It is, as it always is, the unlikeliest chance that things should be as they are. That you should be here. That Hector should have smiled at Tristan and held onto a ray of hope of things never done. That Constance may have smiled in a secret night too dark by her direction for anyone to see it. That Robena may have gone to bed and perhaps, just perhaps, smiled when she reflected on her own choice. The final day of hunts does not greet you merrily, but with a growl. Sleet-thick winds strike at the castle stones and batter the windows. The clouds are gray and menacing, the sun a distant glow behind them, little more than a hint that it exists. The trees creek and crack, the snow crackles, and there is no sign of life or movement, though the scouts nevertheless went out before danw to find the boar trail. And yet...the full downpour holds itself in abeyance. Or is held, perhaps? Who could say what confluence of powers is at war in the heavens, after all? Robena You are met at dawn, such as it is, by Sir Hector. Though she has been loathe to speak with you to date, she stands before your room politely while you ready yourself. She already wears her own hunting gear: a long fur cape over her armor, a greatbow slung over her back and a great boar-spear with its high hilt held in one hand. She has prepared a sharpened boar spear for your use as well, held cautiously away from you in her other hand. For today is the boar hunt. The boar stands as the symbol of endurance and ferocious power. It has always been the pinnacle of the hunt. Not cunning or villainous, not fast, never lithe. But powerful, dangerous, and fighting to the last. The spear that Hector presents you is unadorned, but of the highest quality, with a good firm grip wrapped in leather and a point that does not show a single flaw upon it. This is a fine compliment, and one that you would not know what you have done to deserve. It is, after all, a favor to Tristan, not to you. How do you ready yourself for the final hunt on this harsh day? Constance, Tristan You are permitted, if you wish it, to sleep in. The castle is focused on Robena's last hunt, and for the early morning there is nothing else to be done. It is dark, gray, and entirely unlike a day anyone would wish to rise to meet. But you can wake, if you wish, and bathe or chat. Or you can wait, and go to see the lady Sauvage when she calls upon you mid-morning. She will not be joining the hunt at all this day, not even from a distance, and wishes instead to see you. This is a fell thing, for she has doffed most of her humanity on this last day. Her dress is a somber blueish gray, and her skin has faded to match. Her mouth is pursed, and her hands look almost as stone perched on the gilded sides of her throne. Her doom and with it the last remnants of her existence, is coming to an end. Perhaps the weather is a reflection of her mood. Or one that combats her? Regardless, she turns with the barest of motions, not to Constance, but to Tristan first. "Most unexpected" she says, her face nearly still save for her lips blue with cold. "What...do you think of the knights I have gathered here?" Is that, perhaps, the smallest of smiles at the edge of her lips? What an unlikely chance.</s>	<\|message\|>Robena Coilleghille On the dawn of this, the final day of her life? She does not know enough latin to talk to god. She has no friends who could keep up through days of drink. None of her kisses have lingered. No liege lord will regret her passage, no small folk will feel her loss. She has passed through the world like a passing storm and now she's to fly away into Okeanos and vanish forever. She's not complex enough to be a true person, she decides. A true person has roots. Friends, connections, community. A stability in hearth and heart, loves that take years to build and don't flash out like a thunderbolt from clear air. She's more like an animal, an illiterate bear knight who has lived her whole life in moments. And so she has resolved to spend this final morning with those she understands. She spends it with the dogs, patting and playing and casting sticks so far even the swiftest of them cannot catch them before they hit the earth. She spends the final morning with her bastard of a horse, brushing his mane and tail and indulging his endless appetite. She spends an hour of the final morning sitting quietly and patiently enough to convince a cat to grace her with a brief sniff on the hand and brush against her legs. The kindest thing about the animals is that they can form friendships in the brief time given to a wanderer or a condemned woman. And so Robena spends her last morning with them. Perhaps she was not to be a knight for Britain, a knight for maidens, a knight for God. But perhaps she can be a knight for beasts.</s>
<\|description\|>Brennen, Pyromancer of the Charred Bog Gender: Male Race: Human Main Class: Pyromancer Alignment: Chaotic Good Size: Medium Height: 5'7" Weight: 140lbs Eyes: Amber Hair: Dirty Blonde Appearance: A short, peculiar looking man with a lean, sinewy physique resulting from decades spent living off the land, Brennen's complexion is calloused and leathery, defined by the occasional crag or wrinkle that give him a seasoned appearance, despite his age. His dark blonde hair is often left oily and unkempt, with Brennen paying little heed to its care. Similarly, his square jaw is blanketed by a coarse layer of scruff, permanently singed from near-constant exposure to fire. His bright amber eyes, however, seem to glow with the fires of youth and passion, unaffected by the passage of time. Brennen's choice in clothing is as otherworldly as his appearance suggests, consisting of weathered and travel-worn robes, shawls, and tunics, covered in burn marks, singes, and frayed ends. His clothes constantly reek of smoke and burning oil, not helped in the slightest by the vials of strange liquid that he keeps on his person at all times. Personality Description: A textbook bohemian, first and foremost obsessed with fire, Brennen's isolated and uncivilized upbringing have left him a bizarre, somewhat eccentric maverick; in tune with nature and apprehensive of towns and cities. Humble and unassuming, Brennen is generally polite, if blunt at times, showing general courtesy to everyone he meets, regardless of race or social status. Though lacking in formal education, Brennen's unique perspective on the world reveals a certain philosophical wisdom that gives way to somewhat profound observations, particularly when he is deep in thought. Well aware of the destructive potential that fire brings, Brennen has dedicated much of his life to discipline and self-restraint, rarely complaining or expressing contempt, even in the harshest conditions. But when flared, his temper is like the fire he wields: ranging from slow-burning and scorching to violently explosive. But just as fire cleanses the old for new growth to emerge, Brennen's rage, once subsided, is gone for good. He holds no grudges or grievances, letting bygones be bygones.</s> <\|message\|>Brennen, Pyromancer of the Charred Bog The Charred Bog was an endless expanse of marshes and fetid swampland, filled with all manner of foul creatures and evil-stricken folk, banished from more civilized lands. Lords and kings have for years tried to conquer the region, with every attempt ending in failure, countless lives lost. For now, the Bog would remain unclaimed: an uncharted festering wound upon the region. But within the swamp, past winding, muddy trails and murky pools - life flickered. A ball of flame, held in the hands of a young boy with all the uncertainty of a novice. "Focus, Brennen, control your breathing. A spark will not catch without kindling to fuel it." The boy's eyes flicked toward the source of the voice: a middle-aged man standing beside him. The man was tall and slender, with sharp, pointed features, and long brown hair that fell past his shoulders. The boy - Brennen - did not reply, but did his best to follow the man's advice, taking slower, deeper breaths; all-the-while gazing intently at the fire in his hands. If the man said anything else, Brennen did not hear it, focusing all his attention on the flame he nurtured, seeing it grow stronger, more vibrant, feeding on his energy. But a child's focus does not hold long, and sure enough, Brennen's eyes were drawn to the sound of a nearby frog leaping into the water, and the flame fizzled into nothing. Brennen's initial shock quickly turned to frustration: a scowl spreading across his features as he angrily kicked at a clod of mud. The man, however, appeared unfazed, simply moving closer and clasping a hand on the youth's shoulder. "Patience, my son. The fire will return... for it is a part of you." --- Visions of Bonfire "Part of--" Brennen awoke slowly, echoing his father's words through dried and bloodied lips. Disoriented, Brennen blinked several times, trying to adjust his eyes to the light. He was not at his camp. Instinct set in, and Brennen immediately tried to rise to his feet, only to strain futilely against coils of rope that bound his hands and feet. Where was he? Who had done this to him? Brennen's second question was almost immediately answered as a small, wretched-looking creature came into view, grasping a spear nearly as tall as it was. Goblins. Brennen had seen small groups of them skulking near his base camp: no more than two or three at any given time. A quick flash of steel or conjuration of fire was often all it took to get them to scatter. But as a sharp throbbing in Brennen's head began to settle, he realized they must have taken him in his sleep. More goblins began to appear, surrounding an admittedly-impressive bonfire in the center of their clearing. They chanted, screeched, and bickered amongst themselves in their coarse language, unknown to Brennen's ears. Now fully awake, his eyes darted all about, looking for sign of his possessions, or anything nearby he could try to use to free himself. Unwittingly, the goblins had figured out Brennen's perfect weakness. His restricted movement made it near-impossible for him to channel flame. The best he'd be able to manage was a small spark, barely worth any note. But right now, a spark may be what he needed. Thinking back to his earliest lessons: the basic foundations of Pyromancy, Brennen cleared his head, taking deep breaths, and focusing on them. With time, patience, and perhaps a fair bit of luck, he might be able to burn through his bindings...</s> <\|message\|>Vah'lux Ki-ao'uthal The freshly sharpened tip of the steel javelin caught a small yellow-orange ray of morning sun as the hunter nestled between a pair of tall, hollowed-out tree trucks. The sunlight hadn't quite reached the entirety of the vast landscape, and the massive trees of the forest gave just enough shadowy cover to keep the Goliath hidden from all but the most keen of vision. It was time to hunt, and this part of the region of Faerun was known for its wild boar, elk, and various vegetation, unspoiled by the age of industry as the wilderness itself continued to thrive. The large frame of the tribe-woman stood as still and silent as was possible, and a muscular arm held the short, spear-like weapon at the ready, awaiting the small boar to make its way into the kill zone. Vah'lux learned much about patience when it came to the hunt, taking what she had been taught all those many years ago and building upon it, especially as a lone hunter. Too long had she been separated from her people. Too long had she dwelled in lands not her own. But if there was anything that could be said of the great race of pseudo-giants that hailed from the mountainous Northern reaches of Faerun, it was their survivalistic instinct. But, until she is one again reunited with her great tribe, surviving in the unknown regions is her only recourse. Her emerald eyes darted to movement several meters ahead, and her hand gripped the javelin as she knew this would have to be the creature she'd tracked earlier. The wild boar were quite large in this part, one which could provide food for at least a few days, or even a week if rationed out properly. However, a Goliath's metabolism is quite extraordinary at times, that such a beast may only be sufficient for a day or two. Either way, Vah'lux was hungry as her stomach enjoyed reminding her throughout the early morning hours. There it was, the boar! And with her weapon at the ready, Vah'lux was just about to thrust her arm forward and release the steel javelin so it may fly through the air, fast and true, toward it's target. But wait. What is this? Someone or something had spooked the animal enough for it to flee for its life, and Vah'lux, irritated by the sudden interruption, allowed a frustrated sigh to escape through her lips and nostrils. This wasn't right. This was supposed to be her kill, not that of another. But, as it turned out, the short strangers paid no heed to the boar as they marched through the dense trees up ahead, with makeshift spears, wooden shields, crude swords, and a nasty disposition backed by distinct snarling and bickering that reminded the Goliath of a particularly sly and disgusting creature. "Goblins." She muttered under her breath, stepping back behind the old tree trunks to be fully engulfed by their shadows, while maintaining a clear visual on the band of mischief-makers as they continued their trek past her hunting spot and toward the south. Vah'lux had seen a few smaller groups of Goblins over the past week, gathering in various spots along her travels, and the few times they spotted her, their first instinct was to steer clear of the "giant woman", which most likely kept them alive a day longer. But the Goliath let them pass. She had no quarrel with them, nor did she intend to start one. She herself was enough of a stranger in a strange land, and at the moment, food was about the only thing on her mind.</s>	<\|message\|>Brennen, Pyromancer of the Charred Bog "Huuch! Daagaan an or huuch!?" Harsh, guttural words escaped the lip-less mouths of one of the creatures, larger and uglier than the others. With a shortsword that appeared to be little more than a jagged shard of obsidian tied to a makeshift hilt, the Goblin swung the blade about with as much refinement as a butcher with a cleaver. "Hegaan an huuch!" The Goblin spat, now pressing the sword's tip against Brennen's neck. His head tilted back as far as it could go, Brennen's lips twitched in fearful anticipation, ragged breaths leaving his chest. With only the slightest amount of pressure, the blade began to cut into his flesh, blood already starting to trickle from the wound. "I don't...know...what...you're asking me." Brennen plead in his defense, wincing as the sword dug slightly deeper, drawing more blood down his neck. "Hegaan huuch! Or o dhuul..." Brennen could've sworn the Goblin's rasping voice took a sinister edge, but had little time to focus as the Goblin's blade began to move, opening fresh cuts along his neck, only just skin-deep. Eyes slamming shut, Renault breathed in sharply as the stinging sensation followed the blade's trail. The spark he had been coaxing in his bound hands flared to life, unleashing a gout of flame that assailed one of the nearby trees. In only a few seconds, the familiar stench of smoke began to fill the air; as leaves and bark began to pop and smoke, fresh tongues of fire forming along the trunk. Taken by surprise, the Goblin quickly withdrew the obsidian blade, barking commands to the other wretches, who scrambled frantically to try and put the fire out.</s>
<\|description\|>Brennen, Pyromancer of the Charred Bog Gender: Male Race: Human Main Class: Pyromancer Alignment: Chaotic Good Size: Medium Height: 5'7" Weight: 140lbs Eyes: Amber Hair: Dirty Blonde Appearance: A short, peculiar looking man with a lean, sinewy physique resulting from decades spent living off the land, Brennen's complexion is calloused and leathery, defined by the occasional crag or wrinkle that give him a seasoned appearance, despite his age. His dark blonde hair is often left oily and unkempt, with Brennen paying little heed to its care. Similarly, his square jaw is blanketed by a coarse layer of scruff, permanently singed from near-constant exposure to fire. His bright amber eyes, however, seem to glow with the fires of youth and passion, unaffected by the passage of time. Brennen's choice in clothing is as otherworldly as his appearance suggests, consisting of weathered and travel-worn robes, shawls, and tunics, covered in burn marks, singes, and frayed ends. His clothes constantly reek of smoke and burning oil, not helped in the slightest by the vials of strange liquid that he keeps on his person at all times. Personality Description: A textbook bohemian, first and foremost obsessed with fire, Brennen's isolated and uncivilized upbringing have left him a bizarre, somewhat eccentric maverick; in tune with nature and apprehensive of towns and cities. Humble and unassuming, Brennen is generally polite, if blunt at times, showing general courtesy to everyone he meets, regardless of race or social status. Though lacking in formal education, Brennen's unique perspective on the world reveals a certain philosophical wisdom that gives way to somewhat profound observations, particularly when he is deep in thought. Well aware of the destructive potential that fire brings, Brennen has dedicated much of his life to discipline and self-restraint, rarely complaining or expressing contempt, even in the harshest conditions. But when flared, his temper is like the fire he wields: ranging from slow-burning and scorching to violently explosive. But just as fire cleanses the old for new growth to emerge, Brennen's rage, once subsided, is gone for good. He holds no grudges or grievances, letting bygones be bygones.</s> <\|message\|>Brennen, Pyromancer of the Charred Bog His bindings cut, Brennen released a breath he did not realize he was holding, hands immediately shooting for the burning wound at his neck that stained his skin red. "Many thanks." He bid politely, offering a crooked-toothed smile at his would-be rescuer. His eyes met hers, noting their brightness. All Pyromancers in the Bog had eyes like his, remnants of Valaista's kiss. Brennen had to wonder what the significance of this woman's emerald orbs were... Averting his gaze for a moment, Brennen turned to see the result of her handiwork: the Goblin's lifeless corpse quite literally dangling from the javelin that impaled him to the nearby tree. Had Brennen not known better, he'd have thought this the work of some siege engine, not the strength of one's arm. As the woman asked to his condition, Brennen pulled the hand away from his neck, the blood coating his open palm assuring him that his wound was not superficial. "Nothing serious." He answered, clenching blackened fingers into a fist. "Though Goblins are not known for their...hospitality." There was a pause, a gap in Brennen's words as he saw the assortment of Goblins that realized what was taking place, and surrounded the two, waving weapons and shields in anticipation. Brennen was their prize - and they had no intention of releasing him. "Can you fight? By Kavaki, I certainly hope you can." The woman rose to her feet, and Brennen could not mask a look of surprise as she more than towered over him; his eye-level barely reaching her toned stomach. This only confirmed his suspicions...Whoever this woman was, she was not Human. Choosing to save such questions for later, Brennen took the axe she offered, and it promptly dropped in his grip; only an exertion of strength keeping the head from landing in the dirt at all. Of course the Goblins had disarmed him - likely pilfering through his possessions while they were at it. Until he could find his gear, this would have to do. In proud display, the woman unhooked the massive glaive secured to her back, swinging it with dexterous motion that only came after years of training and familiarity. Moving his right hand closer to the iron head of the axe to keep a better grip on the weapon, Brennen released his left, and - drawing on the adrenaline that now flowed through his body - wordlessly conjured a glowing ball of fire that hovered just above his palm, crackling and lapping hungrily at the air. With a quick glance at the woman's direction, hoping she would move as he did, Brennen let out a quick cry, pulling his arm back before throwing it forward, hurtling the fireball towards the nearest goblin. With only seconds to react, the Goblin cried out in fear as the orb crashed into its face, sending the creature sprawling to the ground screeching in shock and agony.</s> <\|message\|>Vah'lux Ki-ao'uthal ○ ○ ۝ ○ ○ Mages. Conjurors. Wizards. Sorcerers. Spellcasters. No matter what they referred to themselves as, or what others perceived them to be, only one word came to the Goliath's mind: Trouble-makers. Growing up in a culture where magic and mysticism seemed to be two separate entities, the magic aspect of Faerun was all but lost on many of her kind, and therefore mistrusted and seen as the work of darker spirits. On more than one occasion, Vah'lux herself witnessed such chaotic usage of spells and witchcraft, even a few of her tribe-mates dfelving in such things only to meet a terrible and agonizing end. Some losing their minds, others, being quite literally consumed by spells that were meant to defend, but backfired instead. The bottom line was that magic was not to be trusted until otherwise proven different. And as the Goliath stood nearby only to see a spark form into a large ball of fire within the palm of the human's hand, she all but leapt backwards a few meters, caught off guard by the cunning of yet another mage. With glaive at the ready, she watched as the fiery weapon was thrust forward and immediately hit the Goblin assailant nearest to them both. Vah'lux had to quickly remind herself that things were already set in motion, and it would do her no good to allow such prejudices to cloud her focus. At least not at that moment. Two Goblins flanked the Goliath, one wielding a shortsword of crude iron, and the other a wooden pike fashioned with a rusty spearhead, and seemingly felt as though they were making a poor choice but at the very last moment. Vah'lux shifted her foot and positioned herself to face the attackers, swinging the massive glaive in a forward arc, first slicing through the torso of the sword-wielder, and knocking the other to the ground, before allowing the momentum of the weapon to guide her next action. Vah'lux quickly pivoted slightly, spinning the shaft of the glaive so the tail-end pointed down at the prone Goblin, and with a great force, impaled the creature through the face with the pointed steel tip. It's lithe frame squirming under the initial pain, followed by muscle spasms, until no movement was left. The other, sliced halfway through it's torso, bled out into the soil beneath. The Goliath spat toward the corpses, hating the fact that their decomposition would soon contaminate an otherwise beautiful area. The Goliath pulled the bloodied glaive from the ground and turned to spot two others nearby who seemingly were ready to defend whatever they had left...</s>	<\|message\|>Brennen, Pyromancer of the Charred Bog There were few true warriors to be found in the Charred Bog. Their lack of contact with the outside world removed the necessity for it. Indeed, no knights or armor-clad soldiers could be counted amongst their numbers. They were pillagers, scavengers, finding what weapons and bits of metal they could from the swamp, itself. Centuries worth of failed campaigns and ill-fated adventures. The Pyromancers used their home to their advantage; favoring skirmishes and short-lived, decisive battles over drawn-out conflicts. To say that Brennen was out of his element in the middle of enemy territory surrounded by angry, bloodthirsty Goblins would have been a gross understatement. But to his incredibly tall rescuer, it was almost a dance. She swung her blade with deadly precision, and Brennen could not help but notice the nearly dance-like rhythm of her muscles beneath slate-colored skin. For such a large, unwieldy-looking weapon, she wielded it as though it were weightless. For comparison, Brennen held the smaller axe she gave him with the clumsiness of unfamiliarity. His own axe was far smaller than this; little more than a hatchet, all things considered. But this weapon, suited for one closer to his rescuer's size, forced him to adapt his stance. Of the two Goblins that presently remained, one, at least, had the forethought not to end up like his burning companion, and charged at Brennen with a cry that radiated pure malice. Seeing this, Brennen took a step back, a brief flash of surprise spreading across his features before settling into stoic concentration. Loosening his grip on the axe ever so slightly, he felt the polished wood handle slide down his hand, waiting until he nearly reached the butt of it. Tightening his hold as the Goblin came ever-closer, Brennen threw all his weight into an upward swing, using his momentum to add strength to the strike that he could not have otherwise. The blade caught the Goblin by head, cleaving into mottled flesh and rotten bone before sending the creature's mutilated corpse back and onto the blood-stained grass. The last Goblin remained, betraying in its cruel countenance, a fearful uncertainty of what it wanted to do next. Run close and face an axe? Or keep distance and confront the woman's glaive. Still hearing the anguished moans of his still-smoking companion, the Goblin was smart enough to realize two words that every race could trace back to at some point or another: Fire dangerous.</s>
<\|description\|>Brennen, Pyromancer of the Charred Bog Gender: Male Race: Human Main Class: Pyromancer Alignment: Chaotic Good Size: Medium Height: 5'7" Weight: 140lbs Eyes: Amber Hair: Dirty Blonde Appearance: A short, peculiar looking man with a lean, sinewy physique resulting from decades spent living off the land, Brennen's complexion is calloused and leathery, defined by the occasional crag or wrinkle that give him a seasoned appearance, despite his age. His dark blonde hair is often left oily and unkempt, with Brennen paying little heed to its care. Similarly, his square jaw is blanketed by a coarse layer of scruff, permanently singed from near-constant exposure to fire. His bright amber eyes, however, seem to glow with the fires of youth and passion, unaffected by the passage of time. Brennen's choice in clothing is as otherworldly as his appearance suggests, consisting of weathered and travel-worn robes, shawls, and tunics, covered in burn marks, singes, and frayed ends. His clothes constantly reek of smoke and burning oil, not helped in the slightest by the vials of strange liquid that he keeps on his person at all times. Personality Description: A textbook bohemian, first and foremost obsessed with fire, Brennen's isolated and uncivilized upbringing have left him a bizarre, somewhat eccentric maverick; in tune with nature and apprehensive of towns and cities. Humble and unassuming, Brennen is generally polite, if blunt at times, showing general courtesy to everyone he meets, regardless of race or social status. Though lacking in formal education, Brennen's unique perspective on the world reveals a certain philosophical wisdom that gives way to somewhat profound observations, particularly when he is deep in thought. Well aware of the destructive potential that fire brings, Brennen has dedicated much of his life to discipline and self-restraint, rarely complaining or expressing contempt, even in the harshest conditions. But when flared, his temper is like the fire he wields: ranging from slow-burning and scorching to violently explosive. But just as fire cleanses the old for new growth to emerge, Brennen's rage, once subsided, is gone for good. He holds no grudges or grievances, letting bygones be bygones.</s> <\|message\|>Brennen, Pyromancer of the Charred Bog The battle ended, almost as quickly as it had begun, in fact. The tension in his body relaxing, Brennen's shoulders fell into a more casual posture as he looked upon their handiwork, eyes falling to each of the corpses that marked their victory. Wordlessly, he knelt near to the ground, reaching for the obsidian short sword that lay in the grass, falling from the grip of the Goblin whose remains still decorated the nearby tree. Holding it to the morning light to examine its craftsmanship, the blade looked equal parts crude and beautiful to Brennen. Given the poor quality weapons possessed by the majority of Goblins, anything more polished than a rusted dagger would have likely been a sign of strength and status. For a moment, Brennen held the blade properly by the hilt. It was too light and clumsy, made for hands much smaller than his - and certainly much smaller than that of his rescuer's. He turned to see the woman surveying the camp, with a look that befit a hunter upon the horizon. "I assume this was your place?" She said to him after a deep sigh escaped her lungs. "No, actually." Brennen answered, ending his first sentence with an uncertainty that indicated he was not done speaking. He looked down at the obsidian blade still in his hands, debating its usefulness, then letting it fall to the wet grass without another thought. "No, they must have dragged me here; looking for loot and a meal, most likely." Brennen continued, a look of concern briefly flashing over his hood-obscured features at the thought of being cooked and...eaten by those creatures; which would have undoubtedly been his fate had this woman not come along when she did. "I just--" he hung on the word for a second, eyes narrowed as he looked for something. "Need to see where they put my things..." With that, he moved towards the center of the camp, closer to the bonfire that still burned, though was hungering for kindling that was not there. As he walked by, Brennen absentmindedly stretched out a hand into the fire, his fingers curling as tongues of the flame lapped out towards him, as though trying to ensnare him before releasing their hold - unharmed. Heading towards one of several crudely-constructed tents - the largest, in fact - Brennen stooped low enough to cross the flap-covered threshold, the sound of clattering and items moving about undoubtedly reaching the woman's ears, followed by a sudden "Aha!" As Brennen assuredly discovered something he was looking for. A few moments after, Brennen emerged from the tent, holding a rustic, weathered knapsack in his hands, made of coarse leather and holding several empty vials on the outside. Opening the sack, Brennen scoured its contents, making a mental checklist to ensure each and every one of his items were still accounted. He procured a chipped and worn hand axe, the tool fitting into his grip with a familiarity and ease that more than signified that this was his weapon of choice. Returning the axe to a notch at Brennen's belt. Briefly heading back into the tent, Brennen emerged lastly with a shield...if it could even be called that. The slab of planks with an iron boss in the center looked hardly fitting for a Goblin, let alone a proper Human, but Brennen seemed not to care. With his gear now back with him, Brennen returned to the woman, looking all the more pleased. "Ahh, good to know they didn't destroy everything. Though I think a few of them may have drunk my potions...Hm." Pausing on that note, Brennen looked up to face his rescuer, holding out the axe she had given him with slight difficulty. "I never properly thanked you, I'd have assuredly been killed had you not arrived. I am most grateful." At this, Brennen gave a small, halfway bow, showing all the clumsiness of a man inexperienced with such gestures. "I am Brennen, what might your name be?"</s> <\|message\|>Vah'lux Ki-ao'uthal ○ ○ ۝ ○ ○ If anything, humans seemed to be a rather predictable lot, along with attachments to a variety of objects that could not or would not have an attachment to them. And while the Goliath admired a warrior who prized a particular weapon, for instance, the weathered mage had a few things that appeared to be near and dear to him. Things that almost seemed trivial to the other, yet what did she care? Vah'lux nodded in appreciation toward Brennen as she slid the shaft of the hand ax through metal rings that hung on a thick leather belt around her waist. Speaking of admired weapons, the woman couldn't deny the fact that she loved the ax, especially one so well-balanced and fit just right for her style of combat. She may have hailed from a race of pseudo-giants who packed on the muscle through both genetics and physical training, but make no mistake that she was far from a lumbering beast. Heavy, clumsy weapons were never her thing, but a weapon with some weight to it and one that wouldn't hinder her ability to make swift attacks and counters, was something to cherish for sure. "You handled yourself well." The Goliath said as she continued to survey the area, watching as the fires which engulfed at least one pine began to die away. "I noticed the Goblins on my own journey throughout this part of Faerun, especially this far west. I think something may have pushed their numbers this way, but unsure of what." Vah'lux shook her head. "Most likely greed if you ask me. They are a race of scavengers above all else, and where there are numbers in their ranks, there's bound to be trouble on the horizon."</s> <\|message\|>Brennen, Pyromancer of the Charred Bog 'Hmm...Scavengers' Brennen pondered on the word for a moment or two, for it'd be an apt one to describe him as well. Those on the outside had a negative attitude towards it, he found; cultural taboos on the treatment of corpses. Brennen found the custom barbaric, if nothing else. The Pyromancers never buried their own, though bodies of soldiers and mercenaries from ages past could still be found mummified deep within the Bog. No, upon death, a Pyromancer was cremated, their ashes scattered in the tribe's bonfire so as to return their spirit to Valaista, and the Flame that birthed them. Weapons, tools, and gear were fair game, though personal effects were typically given to family and next-of-kin. Sentimentality was but an inconsequential thing in the swamp, and could easily hinder one's survival. "Goblins. No land without them." Brennen finally said aloud, carrying disgust in his tone. Shifting his expression to one more genial, he smiled again at his rescuer. "You never gave me your name...I've no idea who to thank for my rescue." Taking a breath, he shifted subjects briefly. "I don't know in what direction my camp is, but I travel light, regardless. Nothing of real value there other than a tent and bedroll. Regardless, it's best I be on my way - you as well. I've no doubt more will arrive will before long..."</s> <\|message\|>Vah'lux Ki-ao'uthal ○ ○ ۝ ○ ○ The woman couldn't have agreed more. The Goblin population seemed more an infestation than anything else, pushing out communities here and there, and setting up their own camps by way of resources that were already available. However, they are also creatures of fairly easy flight response, and will usually only attack when they know their numbers outweigh the competition. "Vah'lux." The Goliath nodded toward the other, "And yes, others will most definitely come, if they are not already nearby, signalled by the smoke from the fires." She motioned toward the blackened pine near the edge of the clearing. "It is only good that a single tree had been affected, and not several acres as I have seen before." The Goliath shook her head, thinking back to a previous encounter with Goblins, and their destructive presence upon the woodlands. "In any case…" She continued, walking over toward both spots to retrieve her javelins. "It is time to move on." Vah'lux pulled the first weapon out of the trunk of the tree, as the corpse of the creature slid from the shaft and crumpled to the ground. As she walked over a few meters to retrieve the second, the woman stopped for a moment to listen. The clanging of armor and weapons, and the muffled chatterings of the Goblin language was carried along with the breeze blowing in the adventurers direction. After grabbing the second javelin, the Goliath signalled to Brennen, pointing to her ear first, then the direction of where the sounds were coming from. "We need to go. Now" She whispered, passing closely by the other. "There is a river to the west, not far from here. I suggest we cross it to throw off any trails, then we may go our separate ways."</s> <\|message\|>Brennen, Pyromancer of the Charred Bog "Smoke from the--oh." Brennen caught himself repeating Vah'lux's words as his eyes drifted to the results of his handiwork. He was filled with a sense of shame at his carelessness, however unintentional, and the knowledge that it has been entirely his doing. Lips twitching slightly as he focused perhaps much too hard on his actions, he instead brought himself back to the present, nodding at the large woman as she went to retrieve her javelins. But before much could be said or done, the woman stopped, tensing, a focused look in her eyes. As she signaled over to him, he heard it, too, the guttural chittering of Goblin voices and the clanging of mismatched, ill-found armor and weapons. He wracked his brain for any possible way to create a distraction of some sort, then quickly gave up. Anything he attempted to do to throw them off would likely only attract them further, no, they had to move. "Let's be off, then." Brennen declared in a hushed voice, nodding once at Vah'lux before taking off westward. Though he remained unsure just how far the Goblins had taken him from his camp, a man his size, it couldn't have been terribly far. Once he caught sight of the river, he'd be able to better catch his bearings...then see where the road took him next.</s> <\|message\|>Vah'lux Ki-ao'uthal ○ ○ ۝ ○ ○ Skimming along the river several meters, Vah'lux examined the water to catch an area where they could cross, specifically where the mud was high enough that they didn't have to be totally submerged. The sharp-toothed creatures that lurked below the water's surface were the unforgiving lot, and being too vulnerable would mean a huge disadvantage for both the Goliath and the human. The huntress kept watch along the treeline as well, ensuring that that duo wasn't being flanked by Goblin forces. "Here." She pointed to an area in the river where the mud was raised enough enough to almost make a bridge across the river. "We'll cross here. But be wary, this river is deeper than it appears." The large woman stepped into the water, which rose up to about her knees, and kept steady with her glaive used as a walking stick. "Keep an eye on any shiny yellow-orange fish, they tend to enjoy nibbling to the point that they may tear flesh."</s>	<\|message\|>Brennen, Pyromancer of the Charred Bog Following suit after the woman, Brennen was taken aback - though more out of annoyance - as the water that rose to her knees reached his torso, making his gait slow and unseemly. The Bog had only a few places where the fetid water reached any higher than one's ankles, but the Pyromancers knew to steer clear. Magics had a profound impact not only on their wielder, but on the environment as well. Places shaped, twisted by years of exposure to the mystical forces that lay just beneath the surface of the temporal. Though the Pyromancers stood as steadfast guards within the Bog for centuries, just outside their borders, covens of witches, necromancers, and would-be-warlocks practiced their foul 'arts', irrevocably tainting the land. Struggling to find a foothold in the frigid, flowing waters, Brennen briefly regretted finding his gear in the Goblin's camp, as the hatchet at his hip felt like a hunk of raw lead only further weighing him down. Eyes peeled just beneath the surface of the river, Brennen kept his arms up as much as he could, in case someone...or something intended to engage them. Spotting something bright and orange out of the corner of his eye, Brennen did not hesitate, letting out a hiss through grit teeth as he shot a bolt of fire towards its direction in the river. Though dissipating as quickly as it had appeared, the fire displaced the water, leaving naught but steam in its wake. He looked up at Vah'lux somewhat sheepishly, perhaps thinking his reaction was a tad overzealous. But given the situation they were currently in, a healthy paranoia was, perhaps, a necessity.</s>
<\|description\|>Brennen, Pyromancer of the Charred Bog Gender: Male Race: Human Main Class: Pyromancer Alignment: Chaotic Good Size: Medium Height: 5'7" Weight: 140lbs Eyes: Amber Hair: Dirty Blonde Appearance: A short, peculiar looking man with a lean, sinewy physique resulting from decades spent living off the land, Brennen's complexion is calloused and leathery, defined by the occasional crag or wrinkle that give him a seasoned appearance, despite his age. His dark blonde hair is often left oily and unkempt, with Brennen paying little heed to its care. Similarly, his square jaw is blanketed by a coarse layer of scruff, permanently singed from near-constant exposure to fire. His bright amber eyes, however, seem to glow with the fires of youth and passion, unaffected by the passage of time. Brennen's choice in clothing is as otherworldly as his appearance suggests, consisting of weathered and travel-worn robes, shawls, and tunics, covered in burn marks, singes, and frayed ends. His clothes constantly reek of smoke and burning oil, not helped in the slightest by the vials of strange liquid that he keeps on his person at all times. Personality Description: A textbook bohemian, first and foremost obsessed with fire, Brennen's isolated and uncivilized upbringing have left him a bizarre, somewhat eccentric maverick; in tune with nature and apprehensive of towns and cities. Humble and unassuming, Brennen is generally polite, if blunt at times, showing general courtesy to everyone he meets, regardless of race or social status. Though lacking in formal education, Brennen's unique perspective on the world reveals a certain philosophical wisdom that gives way to somewhat profound observations, particularly when he is deep in thought. Well aware of the destructive potential that fire brings, Brennen has dedicated much of his life to discipline and self-restraint, rarely complaining or expressing contempt, even in the harshest conditions. But when flared, his temper is like the fire he wields: ranging from slow-burning and scorching to violently explosive. But just as fire cleanses the old for new growth to emerge, Brennen's rage, once subsided, is gone for good. He holds no grudges or grievances, letting bygones be bygones.</s> <\|message\|>Vah'lux Ki-ao'uthal ○ ○ ۝ ○ ○ The flash of fire and immediate hiss of it disappearing into nothing but vapor, caught the Goliath's attention from the corner of her eye. For a moment Vah'lux had forgotten that a mage was in her midst, at least, {i]some[/i] sort of a magic user dealing with fire. A "Pyromancer" she believed they were called by some, and even "the devil's advocate" by others, which was more a term born out of spite than anything else. Most people looked at a magic user as untrustworthy and deceitful, and while the Goliath herself felt those waves of sentiment, it was more the fact that her companion was human. Trust had to be earned in great leaps and bounds for sure. "You would do well to keep the use of magic to a minimum here." She said very plainly, looking back at the other for a moment before returning her attention toward the riverbank. "There are plenty of sentient creatures in this region who would most likely kill you at the sight of such trickery." Vah'lux could tell her own bias against a human user of magic was beginning to surface in a way she didn't particularly like. Emotion was a weakness, and one she could not -would not- show in the company of a stranger. At that moment, nearing the edge of the river, she leaped onto the muddy bank, using her glaive to steady her balance due to the uneven surface. "Watch yourself there, as this sand can be unforgiving." Moments later, the garbled hysterics of the Goblin language could be heard echoing from the other side of the river, where a handful of the creatures peeked out from the darkness of the forest. A few decided it best to wastefully spend a few crude arrows at the travelers expense, all of which fell short of their targets. Vah'lux shook her head at their presence, still curious why they are as restless and aggressive as they've been for the past few weeks. "They are no danger to us now, but be on guard." The Goliath gaze across the flatter lands in front of them, which wasn't as heavily covered in trees and a bit more open. "It is safe to part ways." She gave Brennen a not, as though to say goodbye to say farewell to the human.</s> <\|message\|>Brennen, Pyromancer of the Charred Bog Trickery? Brennen at first looked confused by the word. Then - if only for a moment - indignant. What was the trickery in fire? Fire was warmth, and light. A shining beacon that stood vigilant against peerless dark. His lips twitched ever-so-slightly under his hood, as though he was measuring what to say. The flash of anger that briefly overtook him disappeared as quickly as it had come. Offense was not intended, and he would not respond with it. "The Sorcerers that navigate the lands outside may wield magic with a guileful hand, intent to deceive. But the Fire we wield is primal...heretical. Not drawn from arcane tomes and spell-books, but from ourselves." To emphasize his point, Brennen cupped both hands together, letting a sliver of flame - no bigger than a candle - manifest in his palms. "It is more than just magic." He said, this time looking up to Vah'lux. "It is a part of me." At that he smiled, almost softly, as if in reminisce. Returning to the present once more as they reached the bank of the river, Vah'lux warned of the land's unsteadiness as she leapt upon the muddy sand, using her weapon as a foothold. Nodding once, Brennen followed in suit, showing ease-of-movement that spoke to his upbringing. The Bog was filled with all manner of deep pools and shifting ground. The first mistake many would-be-conquerors made was bringing horses into such a treacherous land... "It is safe to part ways." Brennen heard her say, turning to see her nod in his direction. This was a farewell. Though Brennen's instincts agreed with her sentiment, something else in him fought against that, prompting him to, for better or worse, go against instinct. "I still owe you a debt." He replied, pausing to let the words hang in the air. "I'd have been dead by now, were it not for your timely rescue. That's something I take seriously." Though he said nothing else, his intent was quiet clear.</s> <\|message\|>Vah'lux Ki-ao'uthal ○ ○ ۝ ○ ○ The Goliath knew her words would sting the other in a way that cut deeper than she could ever imagine. They were not words to be spiteful, but moreso, out of caution, as Vah'lux had her fair share of dealing with darker forces than the one standing only a few feet from her. However, the primal side of life she most certainly understood, and respected to a degree. It was the early teachings -both physical and spiritual- of her people that kept the Goliath grounded throughout the trials and tribulations. Primal knowledge of one's heritage was important. She glanced at the small fire Brennen conjured in his cupped hands, and nodded in acknowledgement. Certainly nothing special, but still something, she supposed. However, what had caught the tribe woman off guard was the mention of a "debt" that the human mage felt as though he owed her. At first she was about to reject the offer, instinctually wanting nothing more to do with a wandering stranger who most likely didn't want to be in the Goliath's presence anyway. But, she stopped herself, and instead went against her better judgement out of a glimmer of respect for such honor and dignity being shown at the moment. "Just know I will not be responsible for your safety." She said after a few moments of mulling it over in her head, leaning slightly on tall glaive while peering down at the man. "I do not carry extra rations or water, and any food will need to be obtained by your own hands." The disclaimer did seem to come off rather harsh, but in the back of her mind, she hoped the mage would reconsider the offer and go about his own business. "Otherwise..." She sighed. "You are welcome to accompany me." The statement was followed by a nod, before turning her sights toward a cluster of trees in the distance, this time on their side of the river. "The path to the south is being watched, and the Goblins won't forget what happened back at the camp. We will continue to head west, but be on guard." She said, putting a large hand on Brennan's shoulder and giving the human a bit of a squeeze. "As these creatures have a nasty habit of picking on the smallest first." Vah'lux gave the other a wry grin and a gentle pat as she turned and headed toward the intended direction.</s> <\|message\|>Brennen, Pyromancer of the Charred Bog Brennen couldn't help a slight chuckle at Vah'lux's words, initially wanting to make a sly comment in regards to her first statement. However, given the circumstances of their meeting, Brennen decided against it. Cockiness would get him nowhere when he had to be rescued just minutes ago. Regardless, self-sufficiency was a virtue in his culture. His days of total helplessness ended the moment he was weaned off his mother's breast. Though Valaista had blessed them each with the Gift of Flame, the Bog was a dangerous place inhabited by twisted creatures. Their Arts aided them, but those who lacked the proper mindfulness were swiftly overcome. "Goblins have always been around, but--" Brennen paused, pondering on his next words before speaking. "Their boldness has increased." At this, Brennen rubbed the back of his head through the coarse fabric of his hood, wincing as his fingers brushed across the spot they had clubbed him. "Orcs and Goblins are alike in only a few ways, but those ways bode misfortune for anyone else. They're disorganized, aggressive, and self-serving. But every so often, one with a little ambition takes over and then you have an army. They never last long, but..." Brennen's mouth twitched, clearly thinking of the untold horrors that a Goblin raid would inflict. Taken out of his thoughts by the woman's large hand clapping against his shoulder, Brennen couldn't help the slight stumble in his steps from Vah'lux's clearly superior strength. "Smaller in stature, but certainly not helpless...ordinarily." Brennen spared a slight chuckle. "There should be a small town not far from here...a few miles to the West. The Goblins couldn't have taken me far, so we should still be in the right area. It's walled off, has a small militia, should be somewhere safe to stay temporarily while we figure out a plan."</s> <\|message\|>Vah'lux Ki-ao'uthal ○ ○ ۝ ○ ○ Agreeing to stick together for the time being, the pair headed west, off the beaten path as to hopefully lose any previous pursuers. The sky was slowly beginning to darken with an oncoming storm, as the temperature dropped slightly following gusts of wind. "Aye, the Goblins have been busier as of late." The Goliath nodded in agreement with Brennan's earlier comments. "Mischief begets further mischief." Vah'lux glanced behind them for a moment, seeing a few stragglers trailing behind as the cluster began to disperse. "But, something seems to be stirring their curiosity, or perhaps restlessness, as their drive toward aggression grows each day...." She returned her attention toward the path ahead. "Which becomes more of a nuisance for those wishing to be left alone." The town Brennan mentioned was known to the tribe-woman as one of many trade stops for travelers and merchants, which generally meant the roads leading there would be monitored by not only local militia, but bandits as well. And while the Goliath wanted very little to do with predominantly human-populated towns, she supposed it was a necessary evil to at least lie low for a night. "'Windsgate', I believe is the town you speak of." Vah'lux said after a few moments of silence. "I have never been there, but have met a handful of halflings and humans who reside within its walls. They were, for the most part, hospitable...at least once they saw past the giant of course." She smirked, but shaking her head as well at such things. Humans always had an uneasiness around her kind, but a Halfling who already felt too small for the world most definitely would feel out of place amongst the race of Goliath.</s>	<\|message\|>Brennen, Pyromancer of the Charred Bog Brennen let out a short chuckle at Vah'lux's remark, though could not hide his own uncertainty as they followed the path that led to the town. There was a wariness to every step he took, as if he were walking toward a confrontation. There were only a few villages that brushed the grassy border of the Bog, their inhabitants reclusive and suspicious. But those who were aware of the Pyromancers talked of them with disdain. Brennen's giant companion was right: magic was a contentious force to begin with, treated as either a high art, lowly trick, or even demonic power depending on one's perspective. As such, Brennen took care to steer clear of most settlements he came across, preferring to keep to himself in the dense wilds. Sadly, the bristled hairs on the back of his neck followed Vah'lux's suspicion as she glanced behind her. Ordinarily, skirmishers such as these would trail only until the town came into view before promptly disengaging back into whatever sweltering hole they came from. But given the current circumstances, previous behavior was no longer a reassurance. Keeping quiet for the remainder of the journey, Brennen finally broke the silence with a hushed "There it is." As Windsgate's somewhat-imposing walls came into view. The townsfolk had carved this spot of land by hand, using the fell trees to create a shielded defense from anything that dared challenge them from the outside. Two guardsmen stood watch, militia types, by the look of it; wearing an unmatched assortment of leather and chainmail, leaning on spears likely hewn from the wood found in the surrounding area. One of them sniffled, eyes peering up beneath an ill-fitted helmet to appraise the two of them. While not overtly hostile, there was a glint of misgiving in his dark eyes, likely wondering what would bring two queerly-dressed strangers to him. "You lot don't look like traders..." The guard motioned his spear towards Brennen and Vah'lux to emphasize his point. "What brings you here?"</s>
<\|description\|>Brennen, Pyromancer of the Charred Bog Gender: Male Race: Human Main Class: Pyromancer Alignment: Chaotic Good Size: Medium Height: 5'7" Weight: 140lbs Eyes: Amber Hair: Dirty Blonde Appearance: A short, peculiar looking man with a lean, sinewy physique resulting from decades spent living off the land, Brennen's complexion is calloused and leathery, defined by the occasional crag or wrinkle that give him a seasoned appearance, despite his age. His dark blonde hair is often left oily and unkempt, with Brennen paying little heed to its care. Similarly, his square jaw is blanketed by a coarse layer of scruff, permanently singed from near-constant exposure to fire. His bright amber eyes, however, seem to glow with the fires of youth and passion, unaffected by the passage of time. Brennen's choice in clothing is as otherworldly as his appearance suggests, consisting of weathered and travel-worn robes, shawls, and tunics, covered in burn marks, singes, and frayed ends. His clothes constantly reek of smoke and burning oil, not helped in the slightest by the vials of strange liquid that he keeps on his person at all times. Personality Description: A textbook bohemian, first and foremost obsessed with fire, Brennen's isolated and uncivilized upbringing have left him a bizarre, somewhat eccentric maverick; in tune with nature and apprehensive of towns and cities. Humble and unassuming, Brennen is generally polite, if blunt at times, showing general courtesy to everyone he meets, regardless of race or social status. Though lacking in formal education, Brennen's unique perspective on the world reveals a certain philosophical wisdom that gives way to somewhat profound observations, particularly when he is deep in thought. Well aware of the destructive potential that fire brings, Brennen has dedicated much of his life to discipline and self-restraint, rarely complaining or expressing contempt, even in the harshest conditions. But when flared, his temper is like the fire he wields: ranging from slow-burning and scorching to violently explosive. But just as fire cleanses the old for new growth to emerge, Brennen's rage, once subsided, is gone for good. He holds no grudges or grievances, letting bygones be bygones.</s> <\|message\|>Vah'lux Ki-ao'uthal ○ ○ ۝ ○ ○ The Goliath knew her words would sting the other in a way that cut deeper than she could ever imagine. They were not words to be spiteful, but moreso, out of caution, as Vah'lux had her fair share of dealing with darker forces than the one standing only a few feet from her. However, the primal side of life she most certainly understood, and respected to a degree. It was the early teachings -both physical and spiritual- of her people that kept the Goliath grounded throughout the trials and tribulations. Primal knowledge of one's heritage was important. She glanced at the small fire Brennen conjured in his cupped hands, and nodded in acknowledgement. Certainly nothing special, but still something, she supposed. However, what had caught the tribe woman off guard was the mention of a "debt" that the human mage felt as though he owed her. At first she was about to reject the offer, instinctually wanting nothing more to do with a wandering stranger who most likely didn't want to be in the Goliath's presence anyway. But, she stopped herself, and instead went against her better judgement out of a glimmer of respect for such honor and dignity being shown at the moment. "Just know I will not be responsible for your safety." She said after a few moments of mulling it over in her head, leaning slightly on tall glaive while peering down at the man. "I do not carry extra rations or water, and any food will need to be obtained by your own hands." The disclaimer did seem to come off rather harsh, but in the back of her mind, she hoped the mage would reconsider the offer and go about his own business. "Otherwise..." She sighed. "You are welcome to accompany me." The statement was followed by a nod, before turning her sights toward a cluster of trees in the distance, this time on their side of the river. "The path to the south is being watched, and the Goblins won't forget what happened back at the camp. We will continue to head west, but be on guard." She said, putting a large hand on Brennan's shoulder and giving the human a bit of a squeeze. "As these creatures have a nasty habit of picking on the smallest first." Vah'lux gave the other a wry grin and a gentle pat as she turned and headed toward the intended direction.</s> <\|message\|>Brennen, Pyromancer of the Charred Bog Brennen couldn't help a slight chuckle at Vah'lux's words, initially wanting to make a sly comment in regards to her first statement. However, given the circumstances of their meeting, Brennen decided against it. Cockiness would get him nowhere when he had to be rescued just minutes ago. Regardless, self-sufficiency was a virtue in his culture. His days of total helplessness ended the moment he was weaned off his mother's breast. Though Valaista had blessed them each with the Gift of Flame, the Bog was a dangerous place inhabited by twisted creatures. Their Arts aided them, but those who lacked the proper mindfulness were swiftly overcome. "Goblins have always been around, but--" Brennen paused, pondering on his next words before speaking. "Their boldness has increased." At this, Brennen rubbed the back of his head through the coarse fabric of his hood, wincing as his fingers brushed across the spot they had clubbed him. "Orcs and Goblins are alike in only a few ways, but those ways bode misfortune for anyone else. They're disorganized, aggressive, and self-serving. But every so often, one with a little ambition takes over and then you have an army. They never last long, but..." Brennen's mouth twitched, clearly thinking of the untold horrors that a Goblin raid would inflict. Taken out of his thoughts by the woman's large hand clapping against his shoulder, Brennen couldn't help the slight stumble in his steps from Vah'lux's clearly superior strength. "Smaller in stature, but certainly not helpless...ordinarily." Brennen spared a slight chuckle. "There should be a small town not far from here...a few miles to the West. The Goblins couldn't have taken me far, so we should still be in the right area. It's walled off, has a small militia, should be somewhere safe to stay temporarily while we figure out a plan."</s> <\|message\|>Vah'lux Ki-ao'uthal ○ ○ ۝ ○ ○ Agreeing to stick together for the time being, the pair headed west, off the beaten path as to hopefully lose any previous pursuers. The sky was slowly beginning to darken with an oncoming storm, as the temperature dropped slightly following gusts of wind. "Aye, the Goblins have been busier as of late." The Goliath nodded in agreement with Brennan's earlier comments. "Mischief begets further mischief." Vah'lux glanced behind them for a moment, seeing a few stragglers trailing behind as the cluster began to disperse. "But, something seems to be stirring their curiosity, or perhaps restlessness, as their drive toward aggression grows each day...." She returned her attention toward the path ahead. "Which becomes more of a nuisance for those wishing to be left alone." The town Brennan mentioned was known to the tribe-woman as one of many trade stops for travelers and merchants, which generally meant the roads leading there would be monitored by not only local militia, but bandits as well. And while the Goliath wanted very little to do with predominantly human-populated towns, she supposed it was a necessary evil to at least lie low for a night. "'Windsgate', I believe is the town you speak of." Vah'lux said after a few moments of silence. "I have never been there, but have met a handful of halflings and humans who reside within its walls. They were, for the most part, hospitable...at least once they saw past the giant of course." She smirked, but shaking her head as well at such things. Humans always had an uneasiness around her kind, but a Halfling who already felt too small for the world most definitely would feel out of place amongst the race of Goliath.</s> <\|message\|>Brennen, Pyromancer of the Charred Bog Brennen let out a short chuckle at Vah'lux's remark, though could not hide his own uncertainty as they followed the path that led to the town. There was a wariness to every step he took, as if he were walking toward a confrontation. There were only a few villages that brushed the grassy border of the Bog, their inhabitants reclusive and suspicious. But those who were aware of the Pyromancers talked of them with disdain. Brennen's giant companion was right: magic was a contentious force to begin with, treated as either a high art, lowly trick, or even demonic power depending on one's perspective. As such, Brennen took care to steer clear of most settlements he came across, preferring to keep to himself in the dense wilds. Sadly, the bristled hairs on the back of his neck followed Vah'lux's suspicion as she glanced behind her. Ordinarily, skirmishers such as these would trail only until the town came into view before promptly disengaging back into whatever sweltering hole they came from. But given the current circumstances, previous behavior was no longer a reassurance. Keeping quiet for the remainder of the journey, Brennen finally broke the silence with a hushed "There it is." As Windsgate's somewhat-imposing walls came into view. The townsfolk had carved this spot of land by hand, using the fell trees to create a shielded defense from anything that dared challenge them from the outside. Two guardsmen stood watch, militia types, by the look of it; wearing an unmatched assortment of leather and chainmail, leaning on spears likely hewn from the wood found in the surrounding area. One of them sniffled, eyes peering up beneath an ill-fitted helmet to appraise the two of them. While not overtly hostile, there was a glint of misgiving in his dark eyes, likely wondering what would bring two queerly-dressed strangers to him. "You lot don't look like traders..." The guard motioned his spear towards Brennen and Vah'lux to emphasize his point. "What brings you here?"</s> <\|message\|>Vah'lux Ki-ao'uthal ○ ○ ۝ ○ ○ The journey on foot toward Windsgate had been relatively quiet, which was fortunate for one such as the Goliath, preferring the ambience of her woodland surroundings to the ramblings of a human. Still, Brennen's company was bearable as traveling companions go. Vah'lux felt slightly more connected to him from the little she knew of his background and culture, but it did appear that he was a lot closer to nature than many of his kind she had encountered previously. Humans were, at least in her experience, about as untrustworthy as they came, and the woman hoped that she was wrong about the mage. "And so it is." She responded to the other, as they made it to the gates of the town under the watchful and suspicious eyes of the guards. Their bewildered expressions did not go unnoticed, as was typical when a Goliath -much larger than a human by a few feet- would come within proximity. Sometimes it was a mere glance and the shaking of a head, but there have been other times where the initial response was to draw weapons on such a creature as though the lot of her race were nothing but mindless barbarians. Thankfully however, the latter had not been the case, as both her and Brennen stepped into the courtyard of Windsgate unbothered. An ornate circular fountain sat in the center of the square, and at the top sat the statue of their alleged local founder and folk hero: a hunter-gatherer who fought off hordes of Goblins and Orcs to liberate the lands and usher in peace for many years. Of course, peace only lasts for so long. "Where shall we go from here?" Vah'lux said, leaning against her glaive and surveying the small wood and stone buildings that lined the area. Among them, a tavern sat at the far end. "While I am not one to drink at such an early hour, I seem to recall the tavern straight ahead as having a wonderful stew, known to replenish even the most weary of travelers."</s>	<\|message\|>Brennen, Pyromancer of the Charred Bog Once past the gate, Brennen's apparent wariness, earlier directed toward the Goblins that skulked after them, seemed to only magnify in their supposed safe place. Though a humble town carved from the land, Windsgate was still a proper hamlet, a shard of civilization. Stone fountains, wood town houses, cobblestone roads, it all reeked of unfamiliarity. The Pyromancers prided themselves on reclusiveness; for they were guardians of the Flame. Even the most opportunistic of them only went as far as inhabiting half-sunken ruins and long-abandoned forts, slowly reclaimed by the Bog. Each tribe's mighty bonfire could be seen from almost anywhere in the swamps; a sign of shelter and comfort. By comparison, the few braziers and sconces that marked Windsgate's pathways seemed weak and hollow. They burned, but these people did not understand the true essence of Fire. Brennen either ignored or did not notice the muffled laughter that followed after the two of them, no doubt from the gate guards that let them pass. Indeed, the two of them made a motley duo, to say the least, both of them drawing the attention of nearly every man, woman, and child that walked past. Who were they? The townspeople may have asked. Savages from the grim north woods? Barbarians from the cragged mountains to the east? Brennen kept his head low, hoping to pretend that the inquisitive eyes that pierced them did not exist. "A stew sounds wonderful." He finally said, not realizing his hunger until the words left his lips. Scouring his belt, Brennen's fingers clasped around one of the many hand-stitched pouches that adorned his person, bouncing it lightly in his hand, accompanied by the distinct clanking of coins. Money was an odd commodity to him, though he was not foolish enough to dare brave the outside world without carrying some with him. It was good fortune that kept the Goblins from splitting it all amongst themselves. A side-effect of greed, most likely. "To the tavern, then!" Brennen declared, his voice more confident, if only slightly.</s>

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<\|description\|>Eclipse Namesake:The cosmic event when the moon covers the sun Age: Young Adult Gender: Male Species: SkyWing/NightWing hybrid Personality: Eclipse has the fiery temper of the SkyWings, but does his best to present a more mellow front and the poise of a prince. He does have a bit of a short fuse that can burn down at the worst of times even if the anger doesn't last long. He likes the mysterious air of the NightWings and tries to imitate that more than the aggression. Overall he's a creative and quick-witted young dragon that enjoys the vigor of life and is a bit of a daredevil. Short Bio: Eclipse's parents were a bit of an odd pair, a NightWing and a SkyWing isn't the most common of relationships. His father found his mother unconscious on the shoreline after a powerful storm knocked her from the sky. He had never really seen a NightWing before and found himself enamored by her jet black scales and the stars under her wings. He pulled her from the waves and helped her get back on her feet; discovering that she had Left her tribe due to some conflicting beliefs. He invited her back to the Sky Kingdom and after some convincing she agreed. Being the brother of Queen Ember, and a capable leader in their army, no one really questioned him beyond their initial surprise. After a short time they had Eclipse who spent his childhood learning battle moves from his father and the mysteries of the world from his mother. Other: Eclipse is proud of his aerial prowess and combat abilities. He has a fair amount of book smarts as well, but when it comes things that require more precision he's pretty much hopeless</s> <\|message\|>Skua Eclipse was right, after all. Then again, he didn't have to deal with chattering dragons almost nonstop today. He rolled his eyes, trying not to think of Cerise and her constant bickering. That old lump of scales didn't know what the definition of fun was. But, her words had left what felt like ants crawling under his scales. While this festival was meant to bring dragons together, he could still spot some overly cautious glances from several individuals. Three moons, some could even be considered hostile. Skua sent a glare at a NightWing that stared at him for too long before focusing on the smell of roasted meats. That was something that boded well, at least. Once he had gotten a whole roast boar, he took it over to where Eclipse ate and settled down. He flicked his tail as his fangs sank into the savory cut. "No news, other than what I heard about Queen Ember's speech," Skua mumbled around a mouthful. He felt bad for the queen. It was the first time a member of royalty had held so many dragons as guests in her kingdom, and tension was already crackling between a certain few of them. The NightWing stared at him again. Skua let out a growl. "Maybe all the old grayscales are right," he muttered. "Nothing good can come from putting all of Pyrrhia in one kingdom..."</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse frowned slightly at his friend, sensing the nervous energy he had. He knew tensions were on the rise between several of the tribes, but he didn't want to entertain the idea that it could grow into something worse. "What do you think Sunrise?" he queried towards the smaller dragon, "You're always reading all those scrolls." He saw the glare Skua sent towards something out of his line of sight out of the corner of his eye, and felt a brief flash of concern for what might have drawn the other's ire. Sunrise shrugged slightly, "Well there's never really been a time when everyone completely got along. There's always someone who is unhappy with the way things are and wants to change things "for the better," and ends up starting conflict." As she talked, she reached a claw out and skewered one of the birds that Ash had in front of him. Eclipse sighed, seemed like nothing could ever be easy. "Hopefully Queen Ember will have something good to say." His eyes flicked back towards Skua at his growl, and he twisted his head slightly to see a NightWing quickly snapping their head away. He shifted subtly to position himself in between the nosy dragon and Skua, effectively blocking the NightWing's view. He knew how much Skua hated people staring at him, usually because of how he looked, given who his parents were. That didn't give them any right to gawk though. He wasn't wholly SkyWing, and people didn't stare at him any more than any other members of the royal family. "I wouldn't worry too much," he flicked Skua lightly with his tail, both to grab his attention and as a friendly gesture, "the Sky Kingdom has excellent soldiers if something does happens." He flashed a smile at the blue-scaled dragon; attempting to lighten the slightly tense and somber mood.</s> <\|message\|>Skua Sunrise seemed to share the same skepticism as he did. Though, he wasn't sure if he should be more at ease because of the fact that someone agreed with him, or if he had every reason to be more action. His eyes darted about once again. Maybe he should just calm down. No one looked suspicious-- even that NightWing had darted off somewhere. Maybe he was just getting stared at because he looked weird. Even though dragons tolerated each other more than before, hybrids were rare. Three moons, perhaps the NightWing was just admiring his scales. They were a dashing shade of silvery blue and oranges and yellows, weren't they? Skua returned his attention to Eclipse, nodding his head at his words. "Of course," he said, lifting his head arrogantly. "As if I would ever let anything happen to Queen Ember. Or anyone, really. Especially you," he chuckled as he teased his friend, bumping his wing against his side. Eclipse's words did resonate with him, though. Queen Ember better have something good to say in order to ease whatever tension there was between the intermingling dragons. A flash of red and orange scales in the sky caught his attention. Skua glanced up to see that at least a dozen armored SkyWings had filtered out of the palace. In the middle of the guards was a large, very pale orange SkyWing. The midday sun made her scales look almost like a mixture of liquid gold and fire, and the golden necklaces around her long, graceful neck only added to her beauty. "Attention all!" roared one of the SkyWing guards as they soared towards the pulpit that looked over the celebrations. "All dragons must gather in the arena to listen to Queen Ember's word!" Skua had already taken a bite out of his boar, and he swallowed quickly before he looked back at Eclipse, Sunrise, and Ash. "Well, at least we're here already," he commented.</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse grinned at the teasing from his friend, knowing that despite the tone, Skua really meant what he said. "No one I'd rather have following me around and looking intimidating." Despite the tensions in the air it did seem like most dragons were having a good time with the festivities. There was plenty of food and interesting conversation to be had, so that hopefully boded well for the coming days. He continued eating tuning into the snappish back and forth that was going on between Ash and Sunrise, but that was about the usual for the two of them. He could hear snippets of conversation going on all around them. Dragons talking about mundane things like what time the festival was going to end or what food they should get. However, there were also those that talked a bit quieter about rising hostilities among the tribes. He hoped it was just talk. He was snapped out of his thoughts as he saw Skua glance skyward and heard the call of one of the many SkyWing soldiers flying with Queen Ember. Must be time for the speech, he was certainly interested in what his aunt had to say about everything that was going on. She looked radiant as ever with the various pieces of jewelry catching the sun and sparkling across her scales. His head tracked her across the sky as she headed for the high part of the arena where she addressed the crowds. He turned his attention to Skua at his comment, "That certainly makes it easy. No need to fight through the crowd to get a good spot to listen." He shifted slightly so he didn't have to crane his neck around to see the queen as she settled onto the pulpit and the guards took up their positions nearby. Some in the sky and others on the ground. Her head held regally Queen Ember gazed across the assembled dragons as they flooded into the arena, a faint smile across her face. As she stepped forward and addressed the crowd, "A warm welcome to the Sky Kingdom to each and every one of you. It is our pleasure to be able to host a festival for all of the tribes of Pyrrhia." She gestured towards the crowd with her claws as she spoke, the smile never dropping from her face, "It brings me great joy to see so many dragons from so many walks of life gathered together; appreciating each others company." Eclipse let himself sit back and relax a bit. The calm nature of the Queen's stance setting his mind more at ease as she continued her speech.</s> <\|message\|>Skua It was kind of hard to believe that his mother served Queen Ember as a guard. All of the other armored SkyWing guards appeared fierce and intimidating, and Skua remembered his mother as kind and understanding. To think that she might have been as stern-faced as one of such guards in her youth. He shook his head, chewing and craning his head as he turned to peer at Ember. The queen was a young queen, her scales unblemished from any fights as her neck swung from side to side at the watching dragons. "There may have been times where dragons of all tribes have gathered like this, but I'm sure that no one can remember a festival as grand as this one!" Queen Ember's voice chimed. "May the celebrations continue, and may we go on to relish each other's company for--" "Look out!" One of the guards at her side had cut through the queen's speech with a terrified screech, her massive crimson wings flaring as she attempted to dive towards Queen Ember. But it was too late. Something whizzed through the air, something small and shiny, and streaked towards Ember's ornamented long neck. Its edge stuck itself into her underscales, and the queen screamed in pain as blood tarnished her neck. Skua's jaw dropped open as he leapt to his feet, his wings expanding as he prepared to take flight towards Queen Ember. But the many SkyWing guards crowded around her, so much so that Skua could no longer see her collapsed body. More and more dragons screamed and roared in panic around him. The sky came to life with the multicolored hides of SandWings, SeaWings, NightWings alike, and more SkyWing guards poured forth from the palace in a panic. "Everyone stay calm!" yelled one of the SkyWings as others flew in loops around the frightened dragons. The dragons that hadn't been able to flee in time shoved against each other, their eyes wild with fear and uncertainty. Skua's wings itched to take flight, to take into the sky and search for whoever had attacked the queen. But the sharpened, angry, desperate gazes of the SkyWings tasked to keep them calm proved that he could do no such thing. If he rebelled, he'd probably be pinned and arrested as a potential suspect. Not that he would do such a thing to Ember! He had Ash, Sunrise, and Eclipse as witnesses! Skua turned to look at Eclipse, his eyes bright with anger and uncertainty. "Did you see that?" he hissed. "The... the thing that hit Queen Ember-- it looked like a dart, or a knife, or something sharp. And it hit her in the neck. Three moons, do you think she's even still alive?! Who could have done such a thing?!' He was practically roaring at this point, his serrated claws digging into the earth and his tail lashing to and fro. I feel so useless!</s>	<\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse felt a swell of pride for both his aunt and his father, who had served as a guard for the queen for as long as he could remember. He wasn't sure if his father was among the guards with her right now, but he couldn't imagine he'd be anywhere but with his sister on a day like this. Unfortunately they weren't really close enough for him to be able to discern which dragon was which under all of the armor they wore. His dad took a great deal of pleasure traveling around with Queen Ember and pestering her when she wasn't busy with her many duties she had to preform every day. Queen Ember's voice was clear and strong despite her youth and general inexperience. He knew he'd never be able to stand up in front of this many dragons and give a speech like this. He glanced at the dragon's sitting around them, almost all of them were watching with rapt attention at the words that rang out across the arena. Before they were abruptly cut off as something struck her in the neck and she fell back into the guards with a scream; red covering the pale orange. He could see the guards moving in to surround her, some facing her and others facing out frantic eyes on the crowds below. His entire body froze and the screams of the other dragons around them faded into the background as everyone began to panic around them. His dad was up there, their Queen had been struck with...something, he hadn't be able to see exactly what, and might be bleeding out as the crowds pushed and shoved in order to escape. With the chaos there would be no way to find the one responsible, they could go after his dad or his mom next, and he had no idea what he could possibly do to help. He snapped out of his panicked thoughts, just barely catching the tail end of what Skua said to him. "I...I don't know." he looked backwards towards Ash and Sunrise who were staring with horror and shock on their faces; as were many of the other dragons who hadn't run. He looked up towards where the soldiers were circling, attempting to calm the masses. They didn't seem to be having much luck. His voice finally caught up to his thoughts as his head whipped around to Skua, slightly frantic, "That's my family up there! I have to get to them, what if the dragon responsible is still here and goes after someone else?!" He could see the pent up frustration in his friend's stance as he spread his wings went to take off into the sky, and froze again, this time with indecision. He needed to know if his family was okay, but he didn't want to leave his friends here in case something happened. He looked back and forth between the chaos on the pulpit and where Skua stood lashing his tail, completely unsure of what he should do.</s>
<\|description\|>Eclipse Namesake:The cosmic event when the moon covers the sun Age: Young Adult Gender: Male Species: SkyWing/NightWing hybrid Personality: Eclipse has the fiery temper of the SkyWings, but does his best to present a more mellow front and the poise of a prince. He does have a bit of a short fuse that can burn down at the worst of times even if the anger doesn't last long. He likes the mysterious air of the NightWings and tries to imitate that more than the aggression. Overall he's a creative and quick-witted young dragon that enjoys the vigor of life and is a bit of a daredevil. Short Bio: Eclipse's parents were a bit of an odd pair, a NightWing and a SkyWing isn't the most common of relationships. His father found his mother unconscious on the shoreline after a powerful storm knocked her from the sky. He had never really seen a NightWing before and found himself enamored by her jet black scales and the stars under her wings. He pulled her from the waves and helped her get back on her feet; discovering that she had Left her tribe due to some conflicting beliefs. He invited her back to the Sky Kingdom and after some convincing she agreed. Being the brother of Queen Ember, and a capable leader in their army, no one really questioned him beyond their initial surprise. After a short time they had Eclipse who spent his childhood learning battle moves from his father and the mysteries of the world from his mother. Other: Eclipse is proud of his aerial prowess and combat abilities. He has a fair amount of book smarts as well, but when it comes things that require more precision he's pretty much hopeless</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse nodded shakily at Skua's words, still trying to wrap his head around everything that had happened. He was grateful for the initiative of his friend, even if it was a bit forceful. "This is going to mean war with whichever tribe is responsible," he looked at the faces of the dragons below them as they quickly made their way up into the sky, "and whichever tribes they're allied with." Any one of them could've been responsible for the attack on Queen Ember, but at the same time, most of them were innocent bystanders. Many of their faces were filled with shock and sadness, and if a war started so many of them would die, even though they did nothing to cause it. He shook his head angrily to banish the thoughts away. He let Skua lead the way through the guards, slightly surprised that the one that attempted to stop them didn't recognize either of them. Though the stress of the situation probably made things difficult. As he landed on the pulpit beside Skua, he could see the healers nearby, trying to do anything they could to help their queen, but the pain seemed to grow every second she laid prone and gasping. Her claws scrabbled against the ground, leaving deep gouges in the stone. He easily recognized his father crouched close enough to have his snout pressed to Ember's forehead, but far enough to not get in the way of the healers that rushed around. The deep reds and oranges of his father's scales seemed pallid and his eyes were clouded as he whispered soothing words to her that were much too quiet for Eclipse to hear. At Skua's hiss he pulled his attention away from his family for a brief moment to stare at him. "Why would someone do this?" he shook his head, "What is there to possibly gain?" The surprise was beginning to give way to a blood boiling anger; a rage that he usually tried to keep well in check, but this time he planned on using it to discover who was responsible. A sudden flurry of activity from the healers drew his attention back to the crowd. The gasping from Ember had grown quieter; her tail and claws stilled in their frantic motions. The only movement was the blood bubbling up between her teeth and pooling on the stone underneath her head. There was a beat of still silence before pandemonium erupted as roars and cries rose from the assembled dragons. Eclipse immediately shoved his way through the crowd, an incomprehensible roar of rage and grief causing several of the guards and healers to jump backwards in surprise. He pushed past the rest of the healers to crouch next to his father who hadn't moved from his position next to Ember; small tremors causing the armor he wore to clank slightly. He draped a wing across his father's back; knowing there was nothing he could possibly say to make this any easier.</s> <\|message\|>Skua This was almost too much for Skua to handle. The grief that pooled together from the spectating dragons was heavy in the air. Yet, alongside the grief and pain, there was a quiet rage that hung thick like blood between them. Eclipse was right. Whoever was responsible had just started a war between tribes. After so many years of peace and prosperity... he trembled, the mix of emotions swelling in his chest. He couldn't even bring himself to comfort Eclipse and his father. He wasn't related to them, and he only had a percentage of SkyWing blood... Suddenly, Ember's body became still, and the smell of death quickly flooded the air. The Skywings all screamed and roared and wailed in unison. Skua ground his teeth together and snarled. "This means war!" he roared, quite literally bristling with fury. The SkyWing healer, Cloud, ducked his head. "Did... did no one see anything?" "The dart came out of nowhere..." one of the SkyWing guards whimpered. Skua's scales felt like needles. "We need to find whoever is responsible, whatever it takes. We're wasting our time hanging our heads and feeling sorry for ourselves!" Most of the SkyWings glared at him, but Cloud shook his head. "It may prove more difficult than we think." "Why?" Cloud carefully lifted the sharp object that had struck Ember. It was covered in blood, but there was something else there. Something waxy black was splotched over the dart, and Skua wrinkled his nose. "This is unlike any poison I've ever seen before. It's not SandWing venom, and it's not dragonbite viper venom... and look, it's eaten the scales around the puncture wound on Ember's neck." Skua craned his neck to look closer. Cloud was right. Ember's scales had twisted and deformed among the blood, as if they had begun to melt off her body. "Then we have no exact way of knowing where the poison came from..." Skua muttered.</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse listened to the conversation going on between Skua and the healer, Cloud, while keeping himself crouched next to his father. His legs were starting to cramp up a bit, but he wasn't about to move. He frowned in confusion at the dart that was being held in between the healer's claws. He'd certainly never seen anything that looked like that or had the effect on a dragon's scales that this substance did. Maybe Sunrise would know something, she spent all that time reading through old scrolls. He heard a familiar roar and glanced up to see his mother, Brightstar, soaring quickly down to the pulpit; light catching on the gleaming white scales under her wings and bouncing off her jet black hide. Despite not being directly related to the Queen she still commanded a great deal of respect, and the guards lowered their heads; stepping back slightly to allow her to move closer. A deep sadness filled her eyes as she looked down at Ember. The Queen had been one of the first dragons to truly welcome her when she'd first come to the Sky Kingdom with Storm. Eclipse felt himself sag slightly in relief, surely his mother would know what to say or do, she always seemed to know more than anyone else did. He drew his wing back and pushed himself to his feet, opening his jaws to say something, but quickly snapping them shut again at a minute shake of Brightstar's head. "Blackbird and Jet," she called out to two of the guards nearby, "Please take Storm back to the palace." The two SkyWings moved to help Storm to his feet and gently lead him away from the body of Ember. "Take care of him, I'll be there shortly." She took a step towards the healers and began a hushed conversation with them; occasionally gesturing towards Ember and the crowd below. Eclipse moved to stand next to Skua once again, "What should we do?" He bumped his wings against his friend as he shifted uneasily, "Should we try to figure out what the poison is?" He sighed, suddenly exhausted. This festival was supposed to celebrate peace and instead it was going to be a catalyst for war.</s> <\|message\|>Skua At the appearance of Eclipse's mother, Skua had become much more quiet. He had roared and stamped his feet enough; he wasn't a mewling dragonet that had to be told to be quiet. Yet, his tail still lashed wildly, and his bright eyes blazed with fury. The two of them were very much being ignored. The SkyWing guards in the pulpit muttered among themselves, then split off to the dragons keeping watch over the clusters of dragons in the arena. They spoke among each other as well, and then they turned to the spectators and roared something. Skua couldn't hear their voices over the sound of the wind, but the clusters of dragons slowly began to take into the sky. Skua began to wonder why exactly the SkyWings were letting them go, then thought again. If no one knew where the dart had come from, then they had no leads. They would find the culprit eventually, though. Skua eyed Eclipse when he was approached. "You can bet on it," he growled. Though, where would they start? The healers and the royals seemed to only be interested in conversing with one another, and the rest of the guards looked to only know as much as they did. Most, if not all, of them looked confused about the source of the poison. "Where do we start? The healers don't even know where the poison comes from. If they don't know, then who does?"</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse sighed as the guards began to allow the crowds to make their way out. "I don't know," he turned to look at Skua who seemed to be getting more agitated as time went on, "I was thinking that maybe Sunrise might know something. She spends all her time reading old scrolls, or maybe my mom, but I don't think she'd tell us anything. Other than that I really have no idea." He dug the tips of his claws into the stone of the pulpit; anything to keep him remotely grounded with everything going on around them. He didn't really think they'd have much luck in finding out who was responsible or what this poison was. They were just two young dragons and if the healers and every guard who was here knew and saw nothing, what could they possibly do. Despite this he couldn't imagine just sitting around and doing nothing while the tenuous peace they'd lived in for years crumbled to the ground around them. As his thoughts ran circles around each other he noticed his mother had finished whatever conversation she'd been having with the guards, who began to hustle about and prepare for whatever came next, and she began to approach where he and Skua stood. She looked more weary and unsure than he'd ever seen her before and that sent a jolt of nerves across each and every one of his scales. If Brightstar didn't have any ideas then, in his mind, their chances of solving this crept closer to zero. Her eyes swept across the both of them, "I can't imagine either of you know much more than the guards, but if you happened to catch anything that they missed I'd love to hear it." Eclipse shook his head, he had been looking back towards Ash and Sunrise when everyone had begun to panic. All he'd seen was Ember falling to the ground. "Skua said something about a dart," he looked questioningly towards the silvery dragon, "but we already knew that. Did you see where in the crowd it came from? That could help."</s> <\|message\|>Skua Skua frowned at his friend's reply. So, no one would really know anything about this poison. He tapped a serrated claw against the floor of the pulpit, glaring to the side. His mind rattled with different types of thoughts. Who? Why? It just repeated in his head over and over, only driving forward the anxiety in his chest. The flash of black scales caught his eye, and he raised his head, blinking at Brightstar. "A dart came from the midst of the crowd, but I didn't see anyone winding their arm up to throw it. It just... flew out of nowhere. Now that I think of it, I didn't see anyone that might have had bad intentions, either." Skua found this hard to admit, but he wasn't going to make anything up. One of the things that came from his mixed bloodline was the SkyWings' excellent vision, but even his eyes couldn't pick anything up. "I'm sorry," he bowed his head towards Eclipse and Brightstar. "If only I'd have been more observant..."</s>	<\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse leaned a shoulder against Skua, silently making sure the other dragon knew he didn't at all blame him for not being able to notice anything, and gave him a faint smile. His mind was still reeling, running through all manner of questions and possibilities for what could have happened and why someone who do this. The only though that came continually to the front of his mind, no matter how hard he tried to shove it away, was that someone wanted to start a war with the Sky Kingdom. Brightstar simply nodded her head, looking lost in thought for a moment, "It's alright dear. Even the guards who were right up next to the Queen saw nothing, so I shouldn't have expected either of you to have seen any more than they did." She stepped past the two young dragons, briefly brushing her wings against Eclipse, "Go get some rest. It's been a trying day." She smiled warmly, if slightly strained, before leaping from the pulpit and soaring down to the crowds below. Despite what his mother told him, Eclipse found that he could not rest, even as the sun fell in the sky and the stars began to twinkle cheerfully he found himself pacing the length of his room in the palace; like some kind of caged beast. He let out a long sigh before stretching his wings, maybe a flight would do him some good. He was sure it wasn't the smartest idea to be out alone when someone was attacking royals, but he didn't care at that point, his room felt stifling and his darker scales would hide him well enough. Pushing open the doors to the balcony attached to his room he took a deep breath of crisp night air before leaping into the inky blackness and spreading his wings. The wind whistling by and rushing across his scales drove the meddlesome thoughts away as he soared down before looping back up and around towards the mountains. As he glided near the mountain that held the palace his keen vision caught a flash of movement on the stone slightly below him. He came to a stop, flapping his wings to keep him aloft, and stared at the place where he'd seen it; waiting for anything else. After a brief moment he saw the moonlight catch on black scales and for a second he thought it was his mother before remembering seeing her inside the palace with his father. No other NightWings lived in the Sky Kingdom, so they definitely should not be here. He moved slightly closer, but not close enough that he was at risk of being attacked, "Who's there?" he put more force into his voice, like his father did when ordering the young recruits around, "The festival is over. You shouldn't be here."</s>
<\|description\|>Eclipse Namesake:The cosmic event when the moon covers the sun Age: Young Adult Gender: Male Species: SkyWing/NightWing hybrid Personality: Eclipse has the fiery temper of the SkyWings, but does his best to present a more mellow front and the poise of a prince. He does have a bit of a short fuse that can burn down at the worst of times even if the anger doesn't last long. He likes the mysterious air of the NightWings and tries to imitate that more than the aggression. Overall he's a creative and quick-witted young dragon that enjoys the vigor of life and is a bit of a daredevil. Short Bio: Eclipse's parents were a bit of an odd pair, a NightWing and a SkyWing isn't the most common of relationships. His father found his mother unconscious on the shoreline after a powerful storm knocked her from the sky. He had never really seen a NightWing before and found himself enamored by her jet black scales and the stars under her wings. He pulled her from the waves and helped her get back on her feet; discovering that she had Left her tribe due to some conflicting beliefs. He invited her back to the Sky Kingdom and after some convincing she agreed. Being the brother of Queen Ember, and a capable leader in their army, no one really questioned him beyond their initial surprise. After a short time they had Eclipse who spent his childhood learning battle moves from his father and the mysteries of the world from his mother. Other: Eclipse is proud of his aerial prowess and combat abilities. He has a fair amount of book smarts as well, but when it comes things that require more precision he's pretty much hopeless</s> <\|message\|>Dreamseeker She always loved to fly. The night swathed her scales, rendering her almost invisible, even in the moonlight. It was the perfect opportunity to swing by the SkyWing palace in search of any clues to what had happened to Queen Ember. She had come to the Sky Kingdom to take part in her festival, which started with music and food and laughter and ended with screams and questions and tears. She tried her best to be careful in getting too close to the palace; she didn't want to attract any attention, especially the night after the assassination. Yet, her curiosity and concern had gotten the best of her, and she seemingly caught the eye of a rogue SkyWing that had been flying about at this time of night. Dreamseeker flinched at the curtness of his words. Oh no. She didn't want to be stopped by a guard-- or worse, a member of royalty. From this distance, she couldn't tell who it was that had started to approach her, but she wasn't keen on sticking around to find out. She tucked her wings close to her, diving away from the strange SkyWing and towards a nearby patch of woods. She had no chance at outflying a SkyWing-- even from here, she could tell his wings were much larger than hers. Her last resort was to lose him in the trees.</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse watched as the dark form dove away from him towards the swathe of forest that rested at the base of the mountain, "Hey! Stop!" If someone was skulking around they could know something about what happened to Queen Ember, and he wasn't about to let them get away. He owed that much to the rest of his family. He flapped his wings hard, gaining altitude instead of directly following the other dragon downward. The extra height would give him extra speed, so he could hopefully catch whoever this was before they vanished into the night. He felt immensely grateful for the rigorous training his father had put him through to improve his flying skills as he climbed high into the air and positioned himself so that he could fall into a steep dive. He couldn't help a slight grin at the rush of wind as he tucked his wings into a spiral and fell back into the dive; quickly gaining speed and distance on the black scaled form he could just catch sight of nearby the canopy of trees below. His own dark scales allowed him to blend well into the deep blue of the sky, while his SkyWing blood gave him the pinpoint vision needed to track the slight silver and white accents he could see on their scales. The other dragon was small and certainly fast, which slightly threw off his trajectory. He still fell close enough that he was able to snap out his wings and buffet the smaller dragon across the neck and jaw. "Stop running!" His voice came out as more of a low growl, fully intending to intimidate them into stopping if he couldn't do so physically. As his wings caught the air and pulled him slightly back into the sky, he kept a close eye to see what the other would do. He honestly wished that Skua had been out here with him; his friend was actually a guard and certainly would've known more about what to do in a situation like this.</s> <\|message\|>Dreamseeker Perhaps Dreamseeker was hoping for too much when she thought that the shadows would whisk her away from view. But when she felt the SkyWing back on her tail-- no, not on her tail, but so close to her he was able to touch her with his wing-- she couldn't help but gawk. Oh no, no, no! You're supposed to go away! she thought haplessly, her wings flapping harder as she dove straight into the forest. Maybe she could lose him if she ran. Maybe-- O-ow! she winced as she landed. Her front right leg wrenched in such a way that it sent shooting pain up her wrist and forearm. In a panic, she tried to rush off into the underbrush, but the splitting pain made her let out a little whimper. Well, then. There was no getting away not. Alright, Dreamseeker. Just try to make yourself look scary. Maybe, if you look scary enough, he'll just run away and leave you alone. She heard the SkyWing land behind her. Dreamseeker whirled around, showing her fangs as she flattened her ears. "G-go away!" she snarled as viciously as she could. Her wings flared as her tail lashed back and forth. "Just so you know, I'm a NightWing! I-I can tell the future and read minds! Oh, a-and I'm an animus! Yeah! So fly away before I turn you into a salamander, or something like that!" Oh yeah, Dreamseeker. Totally scary.</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse felt the ground under his claws give a bit as he landed in the soft forest dirt and heard the faint whimper come from the NightWing as he got closer. He felt slightly bad at having caused her to get injured in the fall, but since that his intent in the first place was to get her on the ground he supposed it counted as a success. He took a step closer even as she bared her teeth at him and flared her wings. He was much bigger than she was, but he knew never to underestimate an opponent no matter how unassuming they might be. He flared his own wings, the moonlight coming through the canopy catching on the galaxy-like patterns on their underside. He raised his neck up and bared his teeth in a low snarl. A snarl that almost turned into a snort at her stuttering attempt at a threat. "My mother is a NightWing and she doesn't have any powers like that." He didn't let his guard down but looked over her closely. He had no idea what an assassin might even look like. He narrowed his eyes, tail twitching nervously, "Why were you around the palace so late?" he felt a growl building up in his chest, "Were you responsible for the death of the Queen? Trying to come and kill another one of us?" His tail went from twitching to lashing at the thought of standing in front of the one who killed his aunt. His claws dug into the ground and he prepared himself to lunge forward at even the slightest move from the NightWing.</s> <\|message\|>Dreamseeker Her eyes widened when she saw the size difference between the SkyWing and her. He was a male, so it was to be expected, but what surprised her the most was the pattern of silver scales on the underside of his wings. He's part NightWing, she realized before he even said so. Moons, this was bad. Usually other types of dragons would be unwilling to mess with one of her kind. But this dragon knew exactly what she was capable of. And he very much thought that she was less than scary. Her whole master plan was going awry, and there was nothing she could do. If only she could tell the future. But what if she saw herself being thrown in a prison cell? Would that bring her any comfort? His words did interest her, though. Dreamseeker perked up, still on the defensive even as she realized something. He thought she was the one that killed the queen? "Wait, wait, wait," she arched her neck forward to peer at the other dragon. "I didn't kill anyone. I was trying to figure out exactly what happened to Queen Ember. I mean, I know she got killed and all, but the guards didn't say anything specific, and the whole commotion just kept on getting worse and worse--" She realized she was blabbering. Dreamseeker took up a more relaxed position in an attempt to appear less of a threat. Her wings tucked closely against her sides as she shifted into a sitting position. "I'm Dreamseeker, by the way," she murmured. "I didn't mean to cause such a fuss. I thought you'd want to arrest me. Or worse, kill me."</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse As the NightWing, Dreamseeker, introduced herself and relaxed her stance Eclipse let himself do the same. He folded his wings in but still kept his head held high, "I'm Eclipse, Queen Ember was my aunt," he huffed out a breath, a bit of smoke and flame puffing into the air in front of him, "If I found out you were somehow responsible you would be dead," he said perhaps a bit too harshly, it'd been a rough day, and chasing down a rogue NightWing was not how he expected to spend the good majority of his night. The trees mostly covered the light of the stars and moon, so if she did have something to do with it and attacked him, well he didn't think anyone would find his body soon. He banished those thoughts with a shake of his head. He quickly assessed her now that she wasn't flying or threatening him. She certainly seemed much too small and timid to be responsible for something as horrific as Queen Ember's death, and she said she was looking into it. He felt a flash of confusion, "Why do you want to figure out what happened to her?" he turned his head curiously, "What does that have to do with you?" Maybe she knew something that none of the SkyWings did. She could have been closer, she could have seen something. Before he let his hopes get to high he focused fully on Dreamseeker, waiting to see what she might have to say.</s> <\|message\|>Dreamseeker Well, it wasn't like she expected the SkyWing's serious attitude to dissipate. If anything, he was more confused than before. Dreamseeker caught a glimpse of his thoughts; he still perceived her as a threat. If she attacked him, there was no way that she'd be able to kill him, no matter how hard she would fight. She frowned a little at him, shaking her head. "I'm no threat, so no need to be worrying about me being responsible. I can't get my claws on anything that might kill a queen, no matter how much I'd try. Why would I want to kill Queen Ember anyways?" she asked him as she curled her tail around her feet. Her eyes didn't waver from his proud posture, ducking her head even more as she lifted up her injured foot further from the floor. It still radiated pain, and she could feel it swelling. His next words were as sharp as teeth. Dreamseeker couldn't help but feel a little injured, flicking her tail slightly. "I don't know about you, but I value the peace among the tribes just as much as any other dragon," she said a little hotly. "I was hoping to get a lead on what killed her. You still don't trust me, do you?"</s>	<\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse opened his jaws to respond to her comment before snapping them shut. He didn't remember saying she might be responsible out loud. That was a problem for later. Just add it to the long list of problems he needed to deal with. "I don't know why you'd want to kill her, I don't know why the dragon who did kill her wanted to," he could feel that same rage bubbling up, not at Dreamseeker, but just the situation as a whole, "I just know that someone killed a member of my family, and for all I know there was no reason at all!" His voice grew to a near shout towards the end of the sentence as all the frustration of the day finally overflowed. He turned away from the NightWing for a moment, regaining his composure with an angry huff and a deep breath. He turned his head back towards her at her rather hot comment; noticing her favoring her leg and made a mental note that, in the event she proved trustworthy, to help her out with that. "I value peace but I know the one who did this definitely doesn't," he frowned at her as she asked about trust, "You haven't exactly given me a reason to trust you. You were sneaking around my home in the middle of the night. That's not exactly trustworthy behavior." He took a moment to just sit down and think; gazing up through the trees as if the stars above him might have the answers he needed. They knew nothing, not who did, not how, not why, and no one had even started anything else. What were they waiting for? The weakness that came with Ember's death would be enough for another tribe to attack them, yet nothing had happened. Maybe they were waiting for another moment of vulnerability. He sighed, the anger he felt giving way to a deep sadness. He hated the fact that this was what he had to be concerned about. If the next coming dawn would bring even more death to the people he cared for. He looked back towards Dreamseeker, "Did you find anything?"</s>
<\|description\|>Eclipse Namesake:The cosmic event when the moon covers the sun Age: Young Adult Gender: Male Species: SkyWing/NightWing hybrid Personality: Eclipse has the fiery temper of the SkyWings, but does his best to present a more mellow front and the poise of a prince. He does have a bit of a short fuse that can burn down at the worst of times even if the anger doesn't last long. He likes the mysterious air of the NightWings and tries to imitate that more than the aggression. Overall he's a creative and quick-witted young dragon that enjoys the vigor of life and is a bit of a daredevil. Short Bio: Eclipse's parents were a bit of an odd pair, a NightWing and a SkyWing isn't the most common of relationships. His father found his mother unconscious on the shoreline after a powerful storm knocked her from the sky. He had never really seen a NightWing before and found himself enamored by her jet black scales and the stars under her wings. He pulled her from the waves and helped her get back on her feet; discovering that she had Left her tribe due to some conflicting beliefs. He invited her back to the Sky Kingdom and after some convincing she agreed. Being the brother of Queen Ember, and a capable leader in their army, no one really questioned him beyond their initial surprise. After a short time they had Eclipse who spent his childhood learning battle moves from his father and the mysteries of the world from his mother. Other: Eclipse is proud of his aerial prowess and combat abilities. He has a fair amount of book smarts as well, but when it comes things that require more precision he's pretty much hopeless</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse watched his mother carefully as Dreamseeker explained what she knew, trying to gauge any kind of reaction she might have. He watched her brow furrow and felt a slight sinking feeling. If she didn't know what it was then they'd probably have to go and try to get the information themselves. He'd never been to the rainforest, but he'd read enough scrolls to know that some dangerous creatures lived there. Not the RainWings, but other things. Clearly given what he saw happen to Queen Ember's scales it must've taken a great deal of trouble to get a hold of whatever this poison was. He gave Dreamseeker a nod and encouraging smile as she glanced his way before looking back towards Brightstar, "What do you think?" he kept his voice low, hoping not to wake his father, "Do you think it's worth looking into?" Brightstar continued to stare hard at Dreamseeker, "Yes, this is certainly more information than we had before," she frowned, deep in thought for a moment, "I've never heard of any kind of creature that spits a poison like that, but it is certainly worth looking into." She looked down towards where the smaller NightWing was favoring her leg, "Come. We'll have one of the healers look at your leg, and you can tell me where you read this information." With that she stepped out of the room, waiting in the hall for the two young dragons to follow. Eclipse looked back towards his father for a moment, who looked grief stricken even in sleep, his wings and claws twitching with restless energy. Storm and Ember had been closer than most siblings he knew, and if he was hurting this much from losing his aunt, he couldn't even imagine what the older SkyWing must be feeling. He didn't care what it took, he'd find the one responsible for hurting his family. As he turned and followed his mother out he whispered towards Dreamseeker, "You certainly got her attention. If anyone can get the right dragons to look into this it's her." He gave her a faint grin and offered her his shoulder to lean on as they began the walk towards the healers.</s> <\|message\|>Dreamseeker Dreamseeker fought to keep the slight smile on her face, though it was difficult with the way Brightstar was looking at her. It was as if she was being deeply scrutinized from the point of her horn to the tip of her tail. She was extremely tempted to just duck behind Eclipse and avoid the other dragon's look, but Eclipse's encouraging smile made her steel her nerves. Oh moons, was she trembling? Could they tell she was? Brightstar's gaze went down to her injured leg, and Dreamseeker looked at it, almost forgetting it was there in the first place. Her heart had been beating so fast, she hardly felt the pain anymore. But what came out of Brightstar's mouth were not words of scorn or dismissal. Instead, she was very much interested in what she had to say. She perked up as her eyes glimmered. Did she really believe her? If only she wasn't so nervous-- she could have checked herself. Her frantic thoughts subsided when she heard Eclipse whisper. Her smile a little more strained and nervous, she accepted his motion and leaned against him. "Thanks," she murmured back as she sent a glance towards the dragon that still slept. Something inside her stirred, and she couldn't help but feel saddened by the sight. The poor dragon was clearly tortured, even in his sleep. "I'm just glad she trusted me. I was worried that she wouldn't."</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse As Eclipse and the two NightWings began the walk to the healers, past a few guards who immediately snapped to attention at the appearance of both him and his mother, he responded to Dreamseeker's concern, "My mother is very good at reading others, insightful," he let out a slight huff, "She would have been able to tell if you were lying I think." He smiled lightly as he looked towards where Brightstar lead the way, "She is not a dragon to immediately pass harsh judgement without knowing everything she can." They rounded the corner and down a short staircase that led to the healers chambers. Thankfully there were no injured dragons that couldn't go back to their homes after the stampede that occurred after the attack, cuts and bruises were among the worst that he'd seen. He took a moment to appreciate the emptiness of the room, if he knew anything about some of the allies of the Sky Kingdom, they would definitely be seeking some kind of revenge. As the trio walked in Eclipse recognized the SkyWing that had been with Queen Ember, Cloud, who had several scrolls open across the floor and desk near the back of the room and the dart that had killed the queen nearby. Their brow was furrowed in deep concentration as one claw ran lightly across the words inked onto the pages. "Cloud," Brightstar called out, startling the other dragon out of their thoughts, "Would you come take a look at this poor dear's leg. I believe it's sprained." As the healer gave a nod and pushed the scrolls quickly aside; rushing about to grab the necessary supplies to wrap the leg, Brightstar turned back to face Dreamseeker, the her gaze softer than it was before, "Now if you wouldn't mind telling me where you read about this poison?" She sat down lightly with her tail wrapped loosely around her front legs, almost cat like in a way, her expression cautiously hopeful.</s> <\|message\|>Dreamseeker Dreamseeker found herself relaxing as Eclipse told her about his mother. That was a relief. She had met much harsher NightWings, well-studied or not. Many of them had a huge, almost aggressive ego. She had somewhat of an ego as well... well, not an ego, perse, but she was proud of where she came from. She tore herself from her own thoughts, giving Eclipse a comforted smile as she allowed herself to be guided down a set of stairs. As they descended, she expected to hear voices of injured dragons or of worried healers, but to her surprise, she was faced with an almost empty room. As Cloud began to tend to her leg, Dreamseeker turned to Brightstar. "I don't remember," she replied, disappointed in herself. She didn't think it'd be so important to remember. "I'm sorry, it was just something that I skimmed over. I never knew it was going to be this necessary to keep in mind." Once her leg was bound with gauze, she set it gently upon the floor. It still hurt, though not as much. Dreamseeker gave Cloud a grateful nod before she turned back towards Eclipse and Brightstar. "I'm sure it will be easy to find a venom spitting creature in the rainforest, though. Just ask the dragons that live around there. Who knows, maybe the RainWings will help out!"</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse felt slightly disappointed at not knowing exactly where the information had come from, that made it a little more difficult to verify, but it was still more than they knew before. He didn't have any idea what they would do about getting to the rainforest, not many dragons traversed the area beyond the RainWings that lived there. "That's alright," Brightstar gave a faint sigh, "It is something to look into and I'm grateful for that." She sat lost in thought for a moment. The scribes at the palace could potentially have some kind of scroll that mentioned these creatures, but she didn't know how long it would take them to find the information they needed, and by then it might be too late to waylay those who wanted revenge. Even if they didn't know who they wanted revenge against. "It might be a bit of wishful thinking that the RainWings would help us," Eclipse looked between his mother and Dreamseeker, "They've never been interested in helping out with anything before." Admittedly he only knew what he'd read about them, but the scrolls were usually fairly accurate and most of them had similar accounts. They would just have to see when they got to the rainforest; not that he would be going. He didn't think there was any way he could convince his parents to let him go out into virtually unknown territory after an assassination. He was surprised there weren't guards on him every second of the day. Brightstar stood and began to make her way towards the stairs, "I'll make sure the guards are aware of your presence so you'll have no trouble whenever you wish to leave." She turned and made her way, presumably, back to Storm and a restful night sleep. "What're you going to do now?" Eclipse turned his full attention on Dreamseeker, "Think there's still something else to find?" He was curious as to what this young dragon would do since she seemed to have much fewer restrictions on where she could go. Maybe she'd go to the rainforest and try to find this creature since she was so interested in figuring out the cause of Queen Ember's death.</s> <\|message\|>Dreamseeker She caught a wave of slight disappointment from both parties, which made her droop her wings slightly. Dreamseeker wished she could help more, even if Brightstar said that she was grateful for the information. Even Eclipse stated that the RainWings would be unlikely to help because they usually cared mostly about their own things. That in itself was true. She gave a frustrated flick of her tail. Who else would know anything about the rainforest if not the dragons who lived there? She was sure that if they asked nicely, they would help--especially if a good queen had been assassinated using something from the forest itself. Dreamseeker nodded as Brightstar left before she turned to Eclipse. Her eyes widened at his question. What was she going to do? She couldn't necessarily go back home; she swore on her pride as a NightWing she'd never get close to her family again. But if not there, where? The Sky Kingdom wasn't a safe place, and the Kingdom of Sand was far too... sandy. And yet, there was another problem. Was she just going to sit on her tail and let this happen? Even now, there might be more dragons plotting and seeking to undermine Pyrrhia's peace. The very thought made her scales itch. "I... I don't know," Dreamseeker whispered, blinking. "I'm not sure if I could just stand by and let this happen. I-I mean, Queen Ember was assassinated. And I know what happened, and you know what happened, a-and... I'm not sure if I can just go ahead and ignore this. Maybe," she sucked in a breath, "maybe... just maybe, we should help. We could be heroes, you know? Actual heroes, not standing on the sidelines and waiting for help. I hate stories like that. Dragons waiting for heroes, waiting for someone to save them or hoping something bad wouldn't happen." She paused again, fidgeting a little. "S-sorry. I kind of got ahead of myself."</s>	<\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse gave a light chuckle at Dreamseeker's enthusiasm, "It's alright. I'd like to be able to do something like that, but I don't think I'd ever get my parents to agree to it with what just happened." After a final nod towards Cloud, whose eyes occasionally flicked over to them, he turned and walked back up the stairs; no longer concerned about the guards since they should be aware of Dreamseeker's presence now. Some of them in the hall, dragons he didn't immediately recognize, gave him a respectful nod, and a faintly suspicious glance towards Dreamseeker, as he passed by in the direction of his room. "My friend, Skua, said some similar things," he smiled fondly, "Not about being heroes really but just not sitting around and doing nothing. He's a bit fiery and temperamental but he means well." He could hear quiet, steady breaths coming from his parents room as they passed by, and he pushed the door to his room open. Stepping inside, the lights were still burning faintly, and he settled down on one of several plush rugs that dotted the floor. He gestured with one wing around the room, "Make yourself comfortable. It'd feel wrong to just kick you out in the middle of the night." He knew that if some of the other guards caught her flying around the palace at this late hour they would probably be less than friendly. The ones in the palace were aware, but that didn't mean all of them were, and despite his better judgement, he found himself liking the small, idealistic NightWing. She was very different from many of the dragons in the Sky Kingdom and it was refreshing. "I'm sure there are probably dragons here that would go to the rainforest in a heartbeat. We all want to know what happened and why." He crossed his front legs and wrapped his tail tightly around him wondering what kind of argument he could make to his parents. Maybe if he convinced Skua to go and Dreamseeker came with them, surely they'd feel better if there was a group of them. He let out a soft sigh, resting his head onto his claws.</s>
<\|description\|>Eclipse Namesake:The cosmic event when the moon covers the sun Age: Young Adult Gender: Male Species: SkyWing/NightWing hybrid Personality: Eclipse has the fiery temper of the SkyWings, but does his best to present a more mellow front and the poise of a prince. He does have a bit of a short fuse that can burn down at the worst of times even if the anger doesn't last long. He likes the mysterious air of the NightWings and tries to imitate that more than the aggression. Overall he's a creative and quick-witted young dragon that enjoys the vigor of life and is a bit of a daredevil. Short Bio: Eclipse's parents were a bit of an odd pair, a NightWing and a SkyWing isn't the most common of relationships. His father found his mother unconscious on the shoreline after a powerful storm knocked her from the sky. He had never really seen a NightWing before and found himself enamored by her jet black scales and the stars under her wings. He pulled her from the waves and helped her get back on her feet; discovering that she had Left her tribe due to some conflicting beliefs. He invited her back to the Sky Kingdom and after some convincing she agreed. Being the brother of Queen Ember, and a capable leader in their army, no one really questioned him beyond their initial surprise. After a short time they had Eclipse who spent his childhood learning battle moves from his father and the mysteries of the world from his mother. Other: Eclipse is proud of his aerial prowess and combat abilities. He has a fair amount of book smarts as well, but when it comes things that require more precision he's pretty much hopeless</s> <\|message\|>Skua The next day... "WHAT?!" roared the larger, very angry male hybrid. Dreamseeker and Eclipse had woken up early in the morning to catch Eclipse's friend before her went to his shift. Skua, or so Eclipse called him, was very much surprised to see a NightWing with his friend-- especially when he found out she was the one that had been staring at him during the whole festival. The morning had been very much peaceful until they spoke to him, and the more they explained, the more his temper flared. His sharp, yellow eyes kept glowering at her as if she had dumped a bunch of salt into his stew. SkyWing guards filtered past them, walking up and down the corridors as they moved to take their positions. There seemed to be more guards than the day before, she remembered. They probably didn't want to take any risks the day after Queen Ember's death. "So, let me get this straight," Skua's lips twitched with a snarl. "You go to bed, and you find this NightWing flying about the vicinity of the palace, and you don't even wake me up before you go chasing her tail?!" Dreamseeker couldn't help but step a little closer to Eclipse for support. "It's not like I would have attacked him!" she told him. "Not to mention, we have more important things to think about-- such as our next course of action." Skua sighed as he shuffled his wings. She caught worried thoughts in his mind; possibilities of Brightstar or Storm getting injured, Eclipse getting killed, what would happen to his parents, what this meant for Pyrrhia... With a war on the horizon, it won't take very long for tribes to start making alliances. Dreamseeker shuffled his wings as well. That was why they had to hurry. "So, what's the plan?" Skua finally asked, his eyes firmly planted on Eclipse. "Are we going to roam around Pyrrhia and ask who's responsible? 'Cause that'll take forever." "I have another idea," Dreamseeker proclaimed. Skua's eyes dashed to her again, his gaze anything but friendly. She couldn't help but quiver. "We could go to the rainforest ourselves. The RainWings will probably be more willing to speak to us than a bunch of mean-looking SkyWing soldiers in armor, don't you think?" "The RainWings won't talk to anyone. They're all lazy good-for-nothings, anyway," Skua snapped. Dreamseeker huffed, trying her best not to flare her wings. Sure, she was quiet, and a little of a push-over, but this dragon was difficult to deal with. How could Eclipse ever have become friends with him? "It's not like we have any other choice. We have to try, don't we?" She glanced up hopefully at Eclipse. Oh, please let him take my side. I can't think of anything else to do!</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse couldn't help but roll his eyes slightly at Skua's reaction. He knew his friend would probably blow up over all of this, but by this point he was used to it. He brushed his wings slightly with Dreamseeker's as she took a step closer. "I thought about coming to get you, but by the time I did she would've been gone," he huffed slightly at the silvery dragon, annoyance painted across his face, "Then we never would've found out anything at all. Besides it's not like I can't defend myself well enough." His tail twitched with annoyance, and he took a moment to put on stopper on any raising of his voice, that would only make things worse. His expression softened slightly, while he knew this was the reaction he would get, he also knew his friend well enough to clock that the anger came more from fear and concern than actual rage. At Dreamseeker's suggestion and Skua's immediate scoff he took a step forward and headbutted him in the neck as both a soft chastising and to draw his attention fully to himself and away from Dreamseeker. He gave the other dragon a fond and excited grin, "Come on Skua, think about how cool it would be to get away from the palace and actually do something about this," he flicked his friend with his tail, "It'll take ages for the palace to get organized enough to do anything, so by the time they do we'll already have gotten there and figured out what's happened." his grin widened, "Besides, how could I go traipsing across the world without my favorite guard and best friend?" He knew it probably wouldn't take too much convincing for Skua to come with them. The thought of leaving him behind seemed wrong, and he assumed the other dragon felt the same way with how much he'd spoken about wanting to find the one responsible. Still, he couldn't keep a small amount of nerves from bubbling up. What if he just completely blew them off? They would be down one and their chances would drop drastically without his help. He carefully danced around the fact that Dreamseeker was coming with them, if he heard that he might be more put off of the idea of flying all the way to the rainforest.</s> <\|message\|>Dreamseeker Dreamseeker was surprised to see how Eclipse and Skua interacted. The both of them were displaying aggression at first, but even though their tails twitched and their expressions were steely. She could tell both of them cared for one another though, and were only frustrated at each other for trivial reasons. She couldn't help but feel a little flustered when Eclipse's wingtips brushed against hers, bringing her wing closer to her as she tried to calm down the quickening beat of her heart. A hard knot formed in her throat as she became a bit more fidgety, but before she knew it, Eclipse bumped his head against the hybrid's neck. Skua let out a puff of frostbreath, his eyes narrowing down at his friend. Dreamseeker didn't have to read his mind once she saw the corners of his lips twitching upwards. "Hmmm, that does sound tempting. Actually ditching this place to see if we could get something done, for once?" he flared his wings dramatically. "Three moons, I'd do anything to get away from Cerise's bickering. And I'm sure that if I left you to your own devices and you got killed, your parents would mount my head on a pike." "You're coming, then?" Dreamseeker asked, even though she already knew the answer. Skua's somewhat playful expression fell from his face once he looked back at her. "Obviously. I'm a guard, protecting royal dragons is what I do," he stated in a snobby voice that made her claws prickle. Dreamseeker turned to Eclipse and gave him a smile. "Good!" she chimed, feeling excited. She hadn't felt this excited in ages. "We'll leave as soon as we're all ready." "Wait, you're coming too?" "Of course. Three dragons are better than two," Dreamseeker attempted to copy the arrogant tone of voice Skua had used only moments before. "Aren't they?" Skua's nostrils flared. "I... guess." Dreamseeker could tell that he didn't like her. Once again, she dabbled in his mind, picking apart the scattered thoughts until she came across something interesting. It'd be so much better if it was just us two. Last thing I need is for Eclipse to be mooning over this strange NightWing, Skua's thoughts echoed back at her. I don't trust her. Those were the consequences of her race. Even though Pyrrhia was trying its hardest to be accepting of all dragons, certain types just weren't tolerated as much as others. NightWings usually got the short end of the stick when it came to trust, next to SandWings. It must have taken ages for Eclipse's mother to be accepted among SkyWing royalty. I'll get him to trust me soon enough, Dreamseeker told herself, somewhat hurt. If I prove myself useful, he'll like me, too. "W-well..." Dreamseeker pulled herself from her thoughts as she batted her wings, flustered with herself. "I'm ready to leave when you two are."</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse grinned at Skua, excitement sending fire through his veins as he immediately wrapped his wings around his friend, "Imagine what she'll say when we come back having solved all this and maybe stopped a war." His grin faded slightly, but he let out a slight chuckle when it came to his parents, but he also felt incredibly worried leaving them here, most likely without saying anything to them, "It wouldn't just be your head, they'd find a way to stick your whole body on a pike as an example. Maybe hang it from the ceiling in the dining hall." Eclipse grinned back at Dreamseeker, eyes bright and excited. He'd hardly ever left the palace, let alone traveled so far away. It was daunting but also exhilarating. There was so much of the world to see and he had only ever read about it in scrolls, and now he was finally getting the chance to actually see something different than the mountains and forests that surrounded the Sky Kingdom. The vast oceans where the Sea Kingdom resided, massive swathes of sands for the Sand Kingdom, swamps and hills for the MudWings; he wanted to learn about all of it. His thoughts trailed off slightly as he watched the bickering between the two other dragons, his head turning back and forth between them, before Skua reluctantly agreed to Dreamseeker's point about greater numbers. He lightly rolled his eyes, if this is what he'd have to deal with the entire journey he was going to go crazy. Skua was his best friend, but he could get a bit haughty and overprotective when it came to unfamiliar dragons. "I'm ready to go," he shuffled a bit nervously, Only problem is I don't think my parents would let me leave even if I explain everything to them. I don't really want to leave without telling them, but I know they'd try to stop us from going." He cared for his parents a great deal and if he left without saying something they would lose themselves worrying about what had happened to him. After losing Ember he didn't think they would be able to handle anything happening to him. He glanced towards Skua, hoping his friend had some sort of solution. They'd sneaked out plenty of times when they were younger, but this was much different. They wouldn't be coming back in the early morning hours trying to keep their laughter quiet enough to not alert the guards; they'd be gone much longer.</s> <\|message\|>Skua Ah, see, there was the problem. Eclipse was noble-blooded, and Skua surely had someone to report to. Dreamseeker could just come and go as she pleased with nothing to hold her back. It wasn't as if Eclipse and Skua could simply ask to leave. After what happeneed to Queen Ember, Eclipse's parents definitely wanted their son around and the kingdom needed all the guards they had at their claws. They had bumped into another dead-end, and they couldn't take too long to find a solution, lest they wanted to attract attention to themselves. Suddenly, a flash of realization struck Skua's expression. "We could sneak out. I know the perfect place." They were lucky that he kept his voice low and his snout dipped towards them. The passing guards were already giving them strange looks. He bounded to his feet and motioned them to follow with a flick of his spined tail. Dreamseeker tossed a wary glance at Eclipse and got on her feet to follow. Her injured leg only bothered her slightly as she pursued Skua down the corridor and then up a very tall, spiraling set of stairs. The walls were narrow; so narrow, that if she spread her wings, their tips would brush against the walls. They climbed higher and higher until they slipped through an opening and found themselves perched on a tall platform. After she had blinked the sunshine away from her eyes, she was met with a wonderful sight. Sprawling mountains, wispy silver clouds just above their heads, and endless blue skies. Her eyes was wide as she took in the view. "Wow..." she breathed out. Skua smirked at her arrogantly. "No time to gawk at the Sky Kingdom's amazing scenery. We need to head south before anyone realizes we're gone." And with that, he leapt off the watchtower and took to the skies. Dreamseeker spread out her wings and flapped after him before turning her head to look back at the remaining dragon. "Come on, Eclipse!" she called, eagerness leaking into her voice.</s>	<\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse felt a grin creep across his face at the idea of sneaking out. It had been years since he'd actually done it since once he got older his parents cared a little bit less about where he was every second of the day. Well, until now anyway. He watched the guards pass by them staring at them curiously, and he made sure to keep his voice low, "Just like old times right." He bounded after Skua as he led them up a narrow staircase that he thought they may have used when they were smaller. He certainly didn't remember the walls being so close together. If he remembered correctly it lead to a little used watch tower that was hidden slightly out of sight from the regular routes that the guards took on their patrols. As the sunlight hit his eyes he paused even after both Skua and Dreamseeker had leapt from the top of the tower into the beautiful morning sky. He glanced back towards the palace, an intense feeling of regret sweeping through him as he thought of what his parents would do when they realized he was gone. Ultimately this would be for the best. They'd find out what happened and he would be able to come home to a much happier sight. One without war. At Dreamseeker's call his head snapped back around and he pushed the worries from his mind. He couldn't help but grin at the barely hidden excitement that slipped into her voice. "Coming!" This would be an exciting journey for them, his worries could come later. He took one step back before leaping off the tower. He let his own excitement bubble over as he looped above the other's heads before soaring over to join them as they began the journey away from the Sky Kingdom.</s>
<\|description\|>Eclipse Namesake:The cosmic event when the moon covers the sun Age: Young Adult Gender: Male Species: SkyWing/NightWing hybrid Personality: Eclipse has the fiery temper of the SkyWings, but does his best to present a more mellow front and the poise of a prince. He does have a bit of a short fuse that can burn down at the worst of times even if the anger doesn't last long. He likes the mysterious air of the NightWings and tries to imitate that more than the aggression. Overall he's a creative and quick-witted young dragon that enjoys the vigor of life and is a bit of a daredevil. Short Bio: Eclipse's parents were a bit of an odd pair, a NightWing and a SkyWing isn't the most common of relationships. His father found his mother unconscious on the shoreline after a powerful storm knocked her from the sky. He had never really seen a NightWing before and found himself enamored by her jet black scales and the stars under her wings. He pulled her from the waves and helped her get back on her feet; discovering that she had Left her tribe due to some conflicting beliefs. He invited her back to the Sky Kingdom and after some convincing she agreed. Being the brother of Queen Ember, and a capable leader in their army, no one really questioned him beyond their initial surprise. After a short time they had Eclipse who spent his childhood learning battle moves from his father and the mysteries of the world from his mother. Other: Eclipse is proud of his aerial prowess and combat abilities. He has a fair amount of book smarts as well, but when it comes things that require more precision he's pretty much hopeless</s> <\|message\|>Viper Most of Viper's focus was on the shorthanded scrawling that she was getting down on the scroll as a record for the meeting. She could only imagine how important this might be down the road if something did come about due to the death of Queen Ember, and she couldn't imagine the any tribe letting the death of their queen just letting it be. She froze slightly as Dreamseeker began to speak and gave a furtive glance towards Queen Ardent. As the NightWing continued to speak she could feel her own scales paling and that deep panic beginning to set in at the idea that someone might be watching what was going on within the hut. That the dragons who had been threatening them somehow knew that they were going to be giving away information and would bust in to kill all of them. If she admired Queen Ardent for anything it was her ability to keep her emotions well hidden. Despite being a RainWing the only indication that she gave that this line of questioning bothered her, and the only reason Viper caught it was because of how much time she spent here, was the slight twitching of Ardent's claws where they were crossed in front of her. Ardent kept silent for some time, her head bowed in thought. Her eyes flicked to the door of the hut before they landed back on their visitors and she sighed. "We did not do it because we wanted to. I know the other tribes think that we are lazy and clueless of our own abilities, but that is not true. We are well aware of how dangerous our venom can be, but they did not give us a choice." Viper couldn't help but suck in a sharp breath as her queen continued to speak. "You have to understand, they threatened my tribe and continue to do so if we tell anyone what has happened. They have dragons around, listening to the things we say in a hope of catching us breaking the deal we made. I did only what I had to in order to stop us from being attacked," she grimaced, "We are not a tribe of fighters." Her long neck turned so she could give Viper a pointed look, but when she spoke her voice was airy and disinterested, the opposite of her quiet and serious tone from before. "Viper why don't you show our guests the wonderful drawing that you did for me the other day." Confusion filled her mind for a moment as she struggled to follow the line of conversation before, after a short moment, she snapped up. "O-oh of course Queen Ardent! I'm sure they would all love to see it." "I apologize but we don't really have time for this." She heard Eclipse say as she rushed to a stretch of bamboo shelves that were covered in scrolls. "I think this will very much interest you." Ardent told him as Viper came back with a single scroll in her paw and laid it on the ground to unroll it. The drawing was crude and not incredibly detailed, but it was unmistakably a SeaWing.</s> <\|message\|>Dreamseeker Skua didn't know what to expect from Ardent, especially when she fell silent and glanced towards the door. But it definitely wasn't for her to suddenly admit the whole plot and why the RainWings did what they did. For a moment, he felt pity for them, along with frustration. What was a tribe to do in the face of danger if they couldn't fight? Why couldn't they even fight in the first place? He ground his teeth together, glaring at the floor as Viper went off to get a drawing. It was only when she showed it to everyone that his head snapped back up at attention. Viper's drawing was one of an azure dragon, with fins, a thick tail, and gills... his heart sunk to his stomach. "That's a--!" he was about to shout, but Dreamseeker's wingtips brushed against his muzzle. Dreamseeker turned to Ardent, her violet eyes wide and filled with fear and worry. "We know who those dragons are. Luckily for us, they aren't very good fighters above the water." she whispered. "I think we can do something about them for your tribe."</s> <\|message\|>Viper Finally they had someone who actually knew what was going on. Eclipse did feel bad for the RainWings, having their lives threatened was nothing to ignore, and he couldn't even find it in himself to fault them for not trying to fight back. While they might not be as lazy as was written in the scrolls they were still pacifists as far as he could tell. He could tell Skua was getting irritated at everything that was going on, but hopefully they'd be on their way soon. He was surprised to say the least when Ardent changed her tune and completely stopped talking about what was important. Instead telling Viper to go get a drawing and even as he went to protest Ardent gave him a keen look. She was much more intelligent than anyone else seemed to give her credit for. He moved up to stand next to Skua and Dreamseeker as the scroll was unfurled and felt his brow furrow in confusion. This couldn't be right. What reason would the SeaWings have to start this or threaten the RainWings? The drawing was unmistakable though and the rest of his troupe also realized quickly. "You think so? They're a real nuisance but tougher to get rid of than one would expect." Ardent's voice kept that bored tone as she spoke to Dreamseeker and Viper moved back to the small table beside her. Her pale blue scales were swirling with a pale green. He had no idea what that meant but judging by the way her eyes were darting around the room she must be nervous about whoever these SeaWings were. Ardent's scales hadn't shifted at all, Rainwings were so confusing. Eclipse nodded in agreement with Dreamseeker. "If you could give us an idea of where they might be I think we have a pretty good chance." He didn't want to risk the lives of the RainWings, but they needed more information and what better place to get it than from the ones responsible. The jewelry jingled as Ardent shifted on the throne, "Usually they stick to the outskirts, I believe, or any place with quite a bit of water." He nodded and filed away that information, "I think we need to have a conversation about all of this," he looked to the rest of the group, "There's a lot that we have to consider." "Whenever you make your decision let me know. Viper can inform me if you don't wish to come back and wait in line." She gestured towards the door with one paw, "Best of luck to you."</s> <\|message\|>Skua The SeaWings acted smart, apparently sticking to the outskirts of the RainWing's territory. Maybe there they would be able to keep track of what occurred in the forest, and he wondered if they knew about their presence already. Skua hoped they did. He felt like clawing a few of those sea-snail eaters in the face. He followed everyone outside of the hut, glancing over at Eclipse and bumping his flank against his. "All we need to do now is get rid of those pests." he declared with a crooked grin. "And then we could head to the SeaWing Kingdom and demand an explanation." Dreamseeker padded up alongside them. "I think it's a lot more difficult than it sounds, Skua. We need to be really careful about what we decide to do," her eyes were gentle as she glanced over the three males in front of her. "But as of now, we're all pretty tired. Maybe we can talk over brunch. Full bellies will help us in planning our next move." Skua snorted and clawed the wood in front of him. "Fine. But I don't want to waste any more time than we have to. I'm already itching to fly to the east and burst into Queen Marlin's palace."</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse This revelation was sending all sorts of conflicting thoughts pinging around in Eclipse's head. Unfortunately, most of them were questions without any answers. He had never met any SeaWings personally, beyond the occasional envoys that showed up to speak with his parents or Queen Ember, but they'd always been cordial and never given any indication of dislike, though he supposed it was easy enough to hide that. Either way, it was confusing to say the least. What reason did the SeaWings have to start a war or kill the Queen? What could they hope to gain from it? He was snapped free of his roiling thoughts when he felt Skua's side bump against his and he let himself relax a bit with a grin in return at his friend's confidence. "If all they've been dealing with are pacifist RainWings they're in for a surprise when we track them down." He almost couldn't wait to get his claws into them. As Dreamseeker spoke he knew she was right. He just wished that at least one thing they did had an easy solution. Was that too much to ask after everything they'd been dealing with so far? "We didn't get a chance to eat this morning. If we're going to be busting down doors it might be a good idea," he flashed Skua another grin, "Not that I don't think you're perfectly capable, but then again, if we try to do something quietly we may have a problem." It was easy enough to get back to the upper platforms and he was happy to see there was still plenty of food for them to tear into. He missed meat though. He supposed this would all have to do. "So what's the plan then?" "While I don't think tracking down a bunch of SeaWings in a jungle is going to be all that hard, isn't it supposed to be super difficult to get into the SeaWing's home?" Aardwolf piped up while they ate, "I've heard that it's hidden underwater or something like that, so we may need some kind of help getting there." Eclipse sighed, of course it couldn't be simple. "I'd rather not try to convince one of these "assassins" to tell us how to get in, so I'm open to ideas."</s> <\|message\|>Skua Skua didn't feel like getting the SeaWing assassins to fess up, either. Assassins were trained not to submit themselves to their capturers, right? So what made them think that a random SeaWing was going to tell them where their palace was? The assassin would probably die laughing if they even tried to make them fess up. Skua shook his head. "Hidden underwater or not, I doubt that lot's going to tell us anything about where their Queen is. We might just have to rely on our own intuition to get us there," he growled. "Let's just try to get some food to in our bellies before anything else though." They flew off to another platform where a bunch of RainWings gathered, apparently to get their breakfast. One of the RainWings was helping out with handing out fruit, and Skua was given a large, round, pinkish fruit with green spines. How did the RainWings survive off of just fruit? He was still hungry from last night... Dreamseeker spoke to them once again once they all had their fruits and were resting underneath the shade of a tree. "We could see if we can find another SeaWing that isn't an assassin. If we fly around the ocean for some time, we're bound to run into someone, right?"</s>	<\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse nodded in agreement with Skua as they all picked up some food for the morning and headed a little ways off to be out of earshot of the rest of the RainWings. It felt like they'd been close to figuring all of this out and being able to go back home. He couldn't imagine how his parents must've felt when they woke up to find him gone. Maybe the knowledge that Skua was most likely with him would at least settle their minds a small amount. He didn't even bother looking at the fruit he was eating, it honestly made it easier to just chew mindlessly and not think about the prey that wandered the jungle that he could be eating. He'd be more than happy to get away from here. "That's an option. I don't think they frequently leave their kingdom, and if they do they certainly don't leave the ocean much, but we still need to give Queen Ardent an answer, he tossed some sort of red berry into is mouth, "Are we going to try and deal with these assassins or do we hope the RainWings can hold out and head towards the sea?" He personally didn't want to leave with the possibility that the RainWings would be attacked, not when they could do something about it, but he felt like they needed to consider if it would just be faster to go straight to the source and get the SeaWings to call them off. Though they may not even be willing to do that if they found out the RainWings had told someone what was going on.</s>
<\|description\|>Skua Namesake: The skua, which is an arctic bird Age: Young adult Gender: Male Species: Hybrid; 1/2 IceWing, 1/2 SkyWing Personality: A very proud dragon that has a bit of a hot streak. He hates unfair things, though his definition of unfair might vary from time to time. Loyal and strong of character. Skua has a thing against showing sensitive emotions, such as sadness, worry, fear, and so forth. Under that aloof exterior, he's rather the adventurous type and likes to fool around. Short Bio: Skua's mother and father met one destined day in Queen Ember's palace; his mother, as fiery and headstrong as many other SkyWings, found herself quite enamored with his father during his journey as a traveling musician. Within the few days that he spent in the palace, his father convinced his mother to come along with him on his travels. Soon after came along little Skua, who had been more rambunctious than the two were prepared for. As he grew, his mother realized that he had the potential of becoming a great dragon, not just some ordinary musician, and so she sent him to the Sky Kingdom in order for him to train under her comrades' wings. Other: Skua is actually a gifted musician, though he doesn't let anyone know. He also doesn't really have any special powers, but is talented at claw to claw combat.</s> <\|message\|>Skua Festivals weren't necessarily Skua's thing. It meant more work for him, which didn't necessarily bother him, but it allowed more ample room to make mistakes. He much preferred it when it was quiet around. It was easier to keep track of things, and that way he wouldn't be so uptight. He hung about with the other guards, listening to them complain about whatnot. One of the SkyWings, a long-necked, graceful-looking female, nodded her head brusquely as she conversed next to him. "I'm telling you, it's a bad thing Queen Ember is allowing all of these dragons to constantly mill about. She's just asking for trouble. We all know different types of dragons don't really get along," she said. The other female SkyWing next to her was a small one, but she puffed out her chest indignantly. "Don't say that kind of stuff, Cerise. Just look at how many of them are having fun--" Skua rolled his eyes. Yeah, fun; the little one was right about one thing, at least. From what he could tell, there wasn't a sign of intent in any of the dragons that milled around stalls and barrels of food. They all seemed to be more interested in talking and eating than looking to start a fight. Frankly, the peaceful sight made him want to doze. Skua's muzzle wrinkled at Cerise's retort, not even bothering to pay attention to what he said as he spread his wings and took to the sky. Maybe a quick flight would wake him up. The smell of roasted pig reached his nose, and his stomach growled. Maybe a quick bite, too... Though before he could really search for the place that heavenly smell, he caught sight of a familiar flash of black and red scales. Skua blinked in surprise when he saw Eclipse talking with two other dragons, both of which seemingly having just as much fun as the rest of the festive dragons. Grinning, he drifted down to join them. "Aren't we being social today?" Skua teased Eclipse as he landed beside the other dragon. His yellow eyes drifted between Sunrise and Ash as he sat down. "Don't mind me, I'm just surprised he actually decided to show up."</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse sighed with mock exasperation as one of his few other friends in the palace landed on the ground next to him, "And here I was hoping I wouldn't have to interact with anyone else today," he flicked Skua with the tip of his tail in a friendly manner; puffing his chest out and pitching his voice up to more closely match that of his aunt, "You've gotten in the way of my haughty gaze over the commoners." He and Ash chuckled as he let his chest fall. Ash turned towards Skua with a matching teasing smile on his face. "Rather shocking isn't it. I expected him to stay up and out of the way the entirety of the festival," he turned the toothy grin on Eclipse, "and that would be a tragedy." Eclipse simply rolled his eyes, legitimately sighing this time. He looked towards the sky as if silently asking it why he decided to put up with these ridiculous dragons that he called friends. He might act as if they annoyed him but he really didn't know what he would do if they didn't take the time to hang out. He'd probably go crazy trapped in the palace with all of the other high and mighty royal types. They could be insufferable with all the gossip and posturing they did, he just couldn't understand it. He glanced back down, "Well I don't know about the rest of you but I'm starving," he grinned towards Sunrise, the smallest out of the whole group, "Great skies knows you could use more meat on your bones." He leapt sideways ducking behind Skua as she swiped a claw at him, "She's a menace I tell you, trying to attack someone in broad daylight," he added a wounded tone to his voice as Sunrise barred her teeth at him, which from any other dragon would probably be intimidating, but from her it just looked kind of cute. Ash took a step forward and patted her gently on the head in a way that seemed both placating and degrading at the same time; which earned him his second thwack from her tail of the day. At this rate there would be a new record. Eclipse slipped around his friend, wrapping one wing around him in an actual greeting, and started heading in the direction of the food stalls, still keeping a fair distance from Sunrise in case she kept trying for her revenge. As the other two prepared to follow, chatting with each other over what kind of food they wanted to get, he looked towards his blue-scaled friend, "Find anything fun to do at this festival, or have you been too busy gossiping with the other soldiers?" he asked with a good natured smile in Skua's direction.</s> <\|message\|>Skua Skua snorted at Eclipse's words as he rolled his eyes. He knew that Eclipse was joking, but he was tempted to cuff him over the head after that reply. Playfully, of course. Though, knowing his strength, he might be too rough about it. Nevertheless, he allowed his crooked grin to spread, and he glanced over at Ash. "A great tragedy, indeed," he agreed whole-heartedly, giving his tail a lax flick. When Eclipse teased Sunrise and caused her to take a swipe at him, in turn using his own body as a shield, Skua sent a sharp glare at his friend. "You're lucky she doesn't shred you, Eclipse," he said in a cautious voice. Despite his glare, he nudged him jokingly. "One day, she'll really lose her temper, and I'll have to drag your tail to the healers." Right after he said that, though, a laugh left his jaws. Ash and Sunrise continued their spiel, he let another laugh as Eclipse gave him a proper greeting. "What? Me? Gossip?" he chuckled as he walked beside him. "I think you might've confused me for one of the older guards around here. They never stop gossiping." Skua added as he held his head up. There were some unfamiliar dragons that looked at them with curiosity, and so he held his head higher. They probably figured Eclipse was one of the royals, and so Skua absolutely had to look at least somewhat proper. The smell of roast boar reached his nose, and he laughed again. "I'm sure I'll have enough fun if I get something to eat. I'm starving."</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse grinned, "I know I can always count on you to protect me from her rather small wrath." He easily walked his way through the throng of other dragons getting food and chatting with each other, most people tended to get out of his way if they knew who he was. To be honest he kind of wished that they wouldn't act so impressed, it's not like he could take the throne anyway, but at least he didn't have to push and shove. He noticed some of the dragons paying them some extra attention and Skua promptly holding his head higher. He sent a quick glare in the direction of the curious ones who quickly averted their gazes. After he was satisfied they were no longer staring he briefly tuned into the conversation that Sunrise and Ash were having. She was prattling on about one of the scrolls that she had read recently; while Ash nodded sagely next to her despite looking like he was half-asleep. He smiled fondly at them before looking back at Skua, "Well it's not like they have much else to do these days," he dodged to the side out of the way of a rather massive MudWing that wasn't paying much attention and shook his head slightly, "sometimes they actually have some pretty good stories to tell." He remembered when he was younger and got tired of working with his father; he would slip away to the barracks and listen to the older soldiers tell heavily exaggerated battle stories. Eventually his father would hunt him down, but he could usually convince him to stay and tell his own tales to avoid any more battle training. He chuckled, "We better find something quick then," he stretched his head up and found a stall with fewer dragons around it and many different kinds of roasted meats, "Can't have one of my best friends dying from lack of fun." He bounded towards the stall and examined the various kinds of meats they had: pig, rabbits, birds, and pretty much anything else a dragon could want. He selected a massive boar that was big enough for at least two of them, and then stood to the side so the others could get what they wanted. His mouth was already watering at the smell of the meat, so he quickly found an out of the way place for them to eat. "Is there any news going around?" he asked seriously, "I haven't had the chance to talk with any of the soldiers or scribes recently." He sunk his teeth into the roasted meat and watched as Ash and Sunrise both made their way over to join them.</s> <\|message\|>Skua Eclipse was right, after all. Then again, he didn't have to deal with chattering dragons almost nonstop today. He rolled his eyes, trying not to think of Cerise and her constant bickering. That old lump of scales didn't know what the definition of fun was. But, her words had left what felt like ants crawling under his scales. While this festival was meant to bring dragons together, he could still spot some overly cautious glances from several individuals. Three moons, some could even be considered hostile. Skua sent a glare at a NightWing that stared at him for too long before focusing on the smell of roasted meats. That was something that boded well, at least. Once he had gotten a whole roast boar, he took it over to where Eclipse ate and settled down. He flicked his tail as his fangs sank into the savory cut. "No news, other than what I heard about Queen Ember's speech," Skua mumbled around a mouthful. He felt bad for the queen. It was the first time a member of royalty had held so many dragons as guests in her kingdom, and tension was already crackling between a certain few of them. The NightWing stared at him again. Skua let out a growl. "Maybe all the old grayscales are right," he muttered. "Nothing good can come from putting all of Pyrrhia in one kingdom..."</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse frowned slightly at his friend, sensing the nervous energy he had. He knew tensions were on the rise between several of the tribes, but he didn't want to entertain the idea that it could grow into something worse. "What do you think Sunrise?" he queried towards the smaller dragon, "You're always reading all those scrolls." He saw the glare Skua sent towards something out of his line of sight out of the corner of his eye, and felt a brief flash of concern for what might have drawn the other's ire. Sunrise shrugged slightly, "Well there's never really been a time when everyone completely got along. There's always someone who is unhappy with the way things are and wants to change things "for the better," and ends up starting conflict." As she talked, she reached a claw out and skewered one of the birds that Ash had in front of him. Eclipse sighed, seemed like nothing could ever be easy. "Hopefully Queen Ember will have something good to say." His eyes flicked back towards Skua at his growl, and he twisted his head slightly to see a NightWing quickly snapping their head away. He shifted subtly to position himself in between the nosy dragon and Skua, effectively blocking the NightWing's view. He knew how much Skua hated people staring at him, usually because of how he looked, given who his parents were. That didn't give them any right to gawk though. He wasn't wholly SkyWing, and people didn't stare at him any more than any other members of the royal family. "I wouldn't worry too much," he flicked Skua lightly with his tail, both to grab his attention and as a friendly gesture, "the Sky Kingdom has excellent soldiers if something does happens." He flashed a smile at the blue-scaled dragon; attempting to lighten the slightly tense and somber mood.</s>	<\|message\|>Skua Sunrise seemed to share the same skepticism as he did. Though, he wasn't sure if he should be more at ease because of the fact that someone agreed with him, or if he had every reason to be more action. His eyes darted about once again. Maybe he should just calm down. No one looked suspicious-- even that NightWing had darted off somewhere. Maybe he was just getting stared at because he looked weird. Even though dragons tolerated each other more than before, hybrids were rare. Three moons, perhaps the NightWing was just admiring his scales. They were a dashing shade of silvery blue and oranges and yellows, weren't they? Skua returned his attention to Eclipse, nodding his head at his words. "Of course," he said, lifting his head arrogantly. "As if I would ever let anything happen to Queen Ember. Or anyone, really. Especially you," he chuckled as he teased his friend, bumping his wing against his side. Eclipse's words did resonate with him, though. Queen Ember better have something good to say in order to ease whatever tension there was between the intermingling dragons. A flash of red and orange scales in the sky caught his attention. Skua glanced up to see that at least a dozen armored SkyWings had filtered out of the palace. In the middle of the guards was a large, very pale orange SkyWing. The midday sun made her scales look almost like a mixture of liquid gold and fire, and the golden necklaces around her long, graceful neck only added to her beauty. "Attention all!" roared one of the SkyWing guards as they soared towards the pulpit that looked over the celebrations. "All dragons must gather in the arena to listen to Queen Ember's word!" Skua had already taken a bite out of his boar, and he swallowed quickly before he looked back at Eclipse, Sunrise, and Ash. "Well, at least we're here already," he commented.</s>
<\|description\|>Skua Namesake: The skua, which is an arctic bird Age: Young adult Gender: Male Species: Hybrid; 1/2 IceWing, 1/2 SkyWing Personality: A very proud dragon that has a bit of a hot streak. He hates unfair things, though his definition of unfair might vary from time to time. Loyal and strong of character. Skua has a thing against showing sensitive emotions, such as sadness, worry, fear, and so forth. Under that aloof exterior, he's rather the adventurous type and likes to fool around. Short Bio: Skua's mother and father met one destined day in Queen Ember's palace; his mother, as fiery and headstrong as many other SkyWings, found herself quite enamored with his father during his journey as a traveling musician. Within the few days that he spent in the palace, his father convinced his mother to come along with him on his travels. Soon after came along little Skua, who had been more rambunctious than the two were prepared for. As he grew, his mother realized that he had the potential of becoming a great dragon, not just some ordinary musician, and so she sent him to the Sky Kingdom in order for him to train under her comrades' wings. Other: Skua is actually a gifted musician, though he doesn't let anyone know. He also doesn't really have any special powers, but is talented at claw to claw combat.</s> <\|message\|>Skua It was kind of hard to believe that his mother served Queen Ember as a guard. All of the other armored SkyWing guards appeared fierce and intimidating, and Skua remembered his mother as kind and understanding. To think that she might have been as stern-faced as one of such guards in her youth. He shook his head, chewing and craning his head as he turned to peer at Ember. The queen was a young queen, her scales unblemished from any fights as her neck swung from side to side at the watching dragons. "There may have been times where dragons of all tribes have gathered like this, but I'm sure that no one can remember a festival as grand as this one!" Queen Ember's voice chimed. "May the celebrations continue, and may we go on to relish each other's company for--" "Look out!" One of the guards at her side had cut through the queen's speech with a terrified screech, her massive crimson wings flaring as she attempted to dive towards Queen Ember. But it was too late. Something whizzed through the air, something small and shiny, and streaked towards Ember's ornamented long neck. Its edge stuck itself into her underscales, and the queen screamed in pain as blood tarnished her neck. Skua's jaw dropped open as he leapt to his feet, his wings expanding as he prepared to take flight towards Queen Ember. But the many SkyWing guards crowded around her, so much so that Skua could no longer see her collapsed body. More and more dragons screamed and roared in panic around him. The sky came to life with the multicolored hides of SandWings, SeaWings, NightWings alike, and more SkyWing guards poured forth from the palace in a panic. "Everyone stay calm!" yelled one of the SkyWings as others flew in loops around the frightened dragons. The dragons that hadn't been able to flee in time shoved against each other, their eyes wild with fear and uncertainty. Skua's wings itched to take flight, to take into the sky and search for whoever had attacked the queen. But the sharpened, angry, desperate gazes of the SkyWings tasked to keep them calm proved that he could do no such thing. If he rebelled, he'd probably be pinned and arrested as a potential suspect. Not that he would do such a thing to Ember! He had Ash, Sunrise, and Eclipse as witnesses! Skua turned to look at Eclipse, his eyes bright with anger and uncertainty. "Did you see that?" he hissed. "The... the thing that hit Queen Ember-- it looked like a dart, or a knife, or something sharp. And it hit her in the neck. Three moons, do you think she's even still alive?! Who could have done such a thing?!' He was practically roaring at this point, his serrated claws digging into the earth and his tail lashing to and fro. I feel so useless!</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse felt a swell of pride for both his aunt and his father, who had served as a guard for the queen for as long as he could remember. He wasn't sure if his father was among the guards with her right now, but he couldn't imagine he'd be anywhere but with his sister on a day like this. Unfortunately they weren't really close enough for him to be able to discern which dragon was which under all of the armor they wore. His dad took a great deal of pleasure traveling around with Queen Ember and pestering her when she wasn't busy with her many duties she had to preform every day. Queen Ember's voice was clear and strong despite her youth and general inexperience. He knew he'd never be able to stand up in front of this many dragons and give a speech like this. He glanced at the dragon's sitting around them, almost all of them were watching with rapt attention at the words that rang out across the arena. Before they were abruptly cut off as something struck her in the neck and she fell back into the guards with a scream; red covering the pale orange. He could see the guards moving in to surround her, some facing her and others facing out frantic eyes on the crowds below. His entire body froze and the screams of the other dragons around them faded into the background as everyone began to panic around them. His dad was up there, their Queen had been struck with...something, he hadn't be able to see exactly what, and might be bleeding out as the crowds pushed and shoved in order to escape. With the chaos there would be no way to find the one responsible, they could go after his dad or his mom next, and he had no idea what he could possibly do to help. He snapped out of his panicked thoughts, just barely catching the tail end of what Skua said to him. "I...I don't know." he looked backwards towards Ash and Sunrise who were staring with horror and shock on their faces; as were many of the other dragons who hadn't run. He looked up towards where the soldiers were circling, attempting to calm the masses. They didn't seem to be having much luck. His voice finally caught up to his thoughts as his head whipped around to Skua, slightly frantic, "That's my family up there! I have to get to them, what if the dragon responsible is still here and goes after someone else?!" He could see the pent up frustration in his friend's stance as he spread his wings went to take off into the sky, and froze again, this time with indecision. He needed to know if his family was okay, but he didn't want to leave his friends here in case something happened. He looked back and forth between the chaos on the pulpit and where Skua stood lashing his tail, completely unsure of what he should do.</s> <\|message\|>Skua Skua was getting more and more aggravated by the minute. The SkyWing guards flapped about, shoving back against the dragons that wanted to escape. His eyes flicked about the crowd; he couldn't find any suspicious dragons in this mess, no guilty or pleased faces that flashed among the bewildered ones. He caught sight of dragons with eyes filled with tears of panic, fear, and confusion. How many had families they were wondering about? How many of them were separated from their loved ones in this chaos? Skua awaited another attack, another flying dart that soared towards the other members of royalty. But none came. It seemed that their assassin had either blended with the crowd almost perfectly, or had fled the scene right after his attack. Eclipse's words snapped his attention back to his panicking friend. A scowl crossed his maw. They were doing nothing sitting about. And Eclipse wanted to make sure his family was alright... "The assassin is gone by now. There's no way that they could do anything in this mess," he commented. "For now, we should find out if everyone is alright!" Though, judging from all the blood, I doubt the queen is okay. He spread his wings, taking off into the sky. One of the guards moved to intercept him, though Skua snarled. "Three moons, I'm one of the queen's soldiers! Let us through!" Skua wasn't sure if it was because of the intensity of his roar or his words, but the SkyWing blinked in surprise and moved to let them pass. Skua flapped towards the pulpit, landing among the fretting SkyWings and their royalty. Ember was still on the floor, gasping and writhing as her tail curled and uncurled. There wasn't so much blood, at least, not as much as he had thought. The healers on the scene fluttered to and fro, their eyes wild with panic. "She's been poisoned," one of the healers hissed. The largest SkyWing guard growled. "Then do something about it, Cloud!" "I-I can't... we don't know what to do--! The poison's already in her blood, and it struck an artery..." Skua's blood froze over like the coldest tundra. He whirled his head around to face Eclipse. "Poison," he hissed. There were many types of poison in the world, ranging from SandWing venom to dragonbite viper venom. Though, even he knew that, once the poison hit the blood, there was little one can do. And if it hit a vital point on one's body...</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse nodded shakily at Skua's words, still trying to wrap his head around everything that had happened. He was grateful for the initiative of his friend, even if it was a bit forceful. "This is going to mean war with whichever tribe is responsible," he looked at the faces of the dragons below them as they quickly made their way up into the sky, "and whichever tribes they're allied with." Any one of them could've been responsible for the attack on Queen Ember, but at the same time, most of them were innocent bystanders. Many of their faces were filled with shock and sadness, and if a war started so many of them would die, even though they did nothing to cause it. He shook his head angrily to banish the thoughts away. He let Skua lead the way through the guards, slightly surprised that the one that attempted to stop them didn't recognize either of them. Though the stress of the situation probably made things difficult. As he landed on the pulpit beside Skua, he could see the healers nearby, trying to do anything they could to help their queen, but the pain seemed to grow every second she laid prone and gasping. Her claws scrabbled against the ground, leaving deep gouges in the stone. He easily recognized his father crouched close enough to have his snout pressed to Ember's forehead, but far enough to not get in the way of the healers that rushed around. The deep reds and oranges of his father's scales seemed pallid and his eyes were clouded as he whispered soothing words to her that were much too quiet for Eclipse to hear. At Skua's hiss he pulled his attention away from his family for a brief moment to stare at him. "Why would someone do this?" he shook his head, "What is there to possibly gain?" The surprise was beginning to give way to a blood boiling anger; a rage that he usually tried to keep well in check, but this time he planned on using it to discover who was responsible. A sudden flurry of activity from the healers drew his attention back to the crowd. The gasping from Ember had grown quieter; her tail and claws stilled in their frantic motions. The only movement was the blood bubbling up between her teeth and pooling on the stone underneath her head. There was a beat of still silence before pandemonium erupted as roars and cries rose from the assembled dragons. Eclipse immediately shoved his way through the crowd, an incomprehensible roar of rage and grief causing several of the guards and healers to jump backwards in surprise. He pushed past the rest of the healers to crouch next to his father who hadn't moved from his position next to Ember; small tremors causing the armor he wore to clank slightly. He draped a wing across his father's back; knowing there was nothing he could possibly say to make this any easier.</s>	<\|message\|>Skua This was almost too much for Skua to handle. The grief that pooled together from the spectating dragons was heavy in the air. Yet, alongside the grief and pain, there was a quiet rage that hung thick like blood between them. Eclipse was right. Whoever was responsible had just started a war between tribes. After so many years of peace and prosperity... he trembled, the mix of emotions swelling in his chest. He couldn't even bring himself to comfort Eclipse and his father. He wasn't related to them, and he only had a percentage of SkyWing blood... Suddenly, Ember's body became still, and the smell of death quickly flooded the air. The Skywings all screamed and roared and wailed in unison. Skua ground his teeth together and snarled. "This means war!" he roared, quite literally bristling with fury. The SkyWing healer, Cloud, ducked his head. "Did... did no one see anything?" "The dart came out of nowhere..." one of the SkyWing guards whimpered. Skua's scales felt like needles. "We need to find whoever is responsible, whatever it takes. We're wasting our time hanging our heads and feeling sorry for ourselves!" Most of the SkyWings glared at him, but Cloud shook his head. "It may prove more difficult than we think." "Why?" Cloud carefully lifted the sharp object that had struck Ember. It was covered in blood, but there was something else there. Something waxy black was splotched over the dart, and Skua wrinkled his nose. "This is unlike any poison I've ever seen before. It's not SandWing venom, and it's not dragonbite viper venom... and look, it's eaten the scales around the puncture wound on Ember's neck." Skua craned his neck to look closer. Cloud was right. Ember's scales had twisted and deformed among the blood, as if they had begun to melt off her body. "Then we have no exact way of knowing where the poison came from..." Skua muttered.</s>
<\|description\|>Skua Namesake: The skua, which is an arctic bird Age: Young adult Gender: Male Species: Hybrid; 1/2 IceWing, 1/2 SkyWing Personality: A very proud dragon that has a bit of a hot streak. He hates unfair things, though his definition of unfair might vary from time to time. Loyal and strong of character. Skua has a thing against showing sensitive emotions, such as sadness, worry, fear, and so forth. Under that aloof exterior, he's rather the adventurous type and likes to fool around. Short Bio: Skua's mother and father met one destined day in Queen Ember's palace; his mother, as fiery and headstrong as many other SkyWings, found herself quite enamored with his father during his journey as a traveling musician. Within the few days that he spent in the palace, his father convinced his mother to come along with him on his travels. Soon after came along little Skua, who had been more rambunctious than the two were prepared for. As he grew, his mother realized that he had the potential of becoming a great dragon, not just some ordinary musician, and so she sent him to the Sky Kingdom in order for him to train under her comrades' wings. Other: Skua is actually a gifted musician, though he doesn't let anyone know. He also doesn't really have any special powers, but is talented at claw to claw combat.</s> <\|message\|>Skua Skua was getting more and more aggravated by the minute. The SkyWing guards flapped about, shoving back against the dragons that wanted to escape. His eyes flicked about the crowd; he couldn't find any suspicious dragons in this mess, no guilty or pleased faces that flashed among the bewildered ones. He caught sight of dragons with eyes filled with tears of panic, fear, and confusion. How many had families they were wondering about? How many of them were separated from their loved ones in this chaos? Skua awaited another attack, another flying dart that soared towards the other members of royalty. But none came. It seemed that their assassin had either blended with the crowd almost perfectly, or had fled the scene right after his attack. Eclipse's words snapped his attention back to his panicking friend. A scowl crossed his maw. They were doing nothing sitting about. And Eclipse wanted to make sure his family was alright... "The assassin is gone by now. There's no way that they could do anything in this mess," he commented. "For now, we should find out if everyone is alright!" Though, judging from all the blood, I doubt the queen is okay. He spread his wings, taking off into the sky. One of the guards moved to intercept him, though Skua snarled. "Three moons, I'm one of the queen's soldiers! Let us through!" Skua wasn't sure if it was because of the intensity of his roar or his words, but the SkyWing blinked in surprise and moved to let them pass. Skua flapped towards the pulpit, landing among the fretting SkyWings and their royalty. Ember was still on the floor, gasping and writhing as her tail curled and uncurled. There wasn't so much blood, at least, not as much as he had thought. The healers on the scene fluttered to and fro, their eyes wild with panic. "She's been poisoned," one of the healers hissed. The largest SkyWing guard growled. "Then do something about it, Cloud!" "I-I can't... we don't know what to do--! The poison's already in her blood, and it struck an artery..." Skua's blood froze over like the coldest tundra. He whirled his head around to face Eclipse. "Poison," he hissed. There were many types of poison in the world, ranging from SandWing venom to dragonbite viper venom. Though, even he knew that, once the poison hit the blood, there was little one can do. And if it hit a vital point on one's body...</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse nodded shakily at Skua's words, still trying to wrap his head around everything that had happened. He was grateful for the initiative of his friend, even if it was a bit forceful. "This is going to mean war with whichever tribe is responsible," he looked at the faces of the dragons below them as they quickly made their way up into the sky, "and whichever tribes they're allied with." Any one of them could've been responsible for the attack on Queen Ember, but at the same time, most of them were innocent bystanders. Many of their faces were filled with shock and sadness, and if a war started so many of them would die, even though they did nothing to cause it. He shook his head angrily to banish the thoughts away. He let Skua lead the way through the guards, slightly surprised that the one that attempted to stop them didn't recognize either of them. Though the stress of the situation probably made things difficult. As he landed on the pulpit beside Skua, he could see the healers nearby, trying to do anything they could to help their queen, but the pain seemed to grow every second she laid prone and gasping. Her claws scrabbled against the ground, leaving deep gouges in the stone. He easily recognized his father crouched close enough to have his snout pressed to Ember's forehead, but far enough to not get in the way of the healers that rushed around. The deep reds and oranges of his father's scales seemed pallid and his eyes were clouded as he whispered soothing words to her that were much too quiet for Eclipse to hear. At Skua's hiss he pulled his attention away from his family for a brief moment to stare at him. "Why would someone do this?" he shook his head, "What is there to possibly gain?" The surprise was beginning to give way to a blood boiling anger; a rage that he usually tried to keep well in check, but this time he planned on using it to discover who was responsible. A sudden flurry of activity from the healers drew his attention back to the crowd. The gasping from Ember had grown quieter; her tail and claws stilled in their frantic motions. The only movement was the blood bubbling up between her teeth and pooling on the stone underneath her head. There was a beat of still silence before pandemonium erupted as roars and cries rose from the assembled dragons. Eclipse immediately shoved his way through the crowd, an incomprehensible roar of rage and grief causing several of the guards and healers to jump backwards in surprise. He pushed past the rest of the healers to crouch next to his father who hadn't moved from his position next to Ember; small tremors causing the armor he wore to clank slightly. He draped a wing across his father's back; knowing there was nothing he could possibly say to make this any easier.</s> <\|message\|>Skua This was almost too much for Skua to handle. The grief that pooled together from the spectating dragons was heavy in the air. Yet, alongside the grief and pain, there was a quiet rage that hung thick like blood between them. Eclipse was right. Whoever was responsible had just started a war between tribes. After so many years of peace and prosperity... he trembled, the mix of emotions swelling in his chest. He couldn't even bring himself to comfort Eclipse and his father. He wasn't related to them, and he only had a percentage of SkyWing blood... Suddenly, Ember's body became still, and the smell of death quickly flooded the air. The Skywings all screamed and roared and wailed in unison. Skua ground his teeth together and snarled. "This means war!" he roared, quite literally bristling with fury. The SkyWing healer, Cloud, ducked his head. "Did... did no one see anything?" "The dart came out of nowhere..." one of the SkyWing guards whimpered. Skua's scales felt like needles. "We need to find whoever is responsible, whatever it takes. We're wasting our time hanging our heads and feeling sorry for ourselves!" Most of the SkyWings glared at him, but Cloud shook his head. "It may prove more difficult than we think." "Why?" Cloud carefully lifted the sharp object that had struck Ember. It was covered in blood, but there was something else there. Something waxy black was splotched over the dart, and Skua wrinkled his nose. "This is unlike any poison I've ever seen before. It's not SandWing venom, and it's not dragonbite viper venom... and look, it's eaten the scales around the puncture wound on Ember's neck." Skua craned his neck to look closer. Cloud was right. Ember's scales had twisted and deformed among the blood, as if they had begun to melt off her body. "Then we have no exact way of knowing where the poison came from..." Skua muttered.</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse listened to the conversation going on between Skua and the healer, Cloud, while keeping himself crouched next to his father. His legs were starting to cramp up a bit, but he wasn't about to move. He frowned in confusion at the dart that was being held in between the healer's claws. He'd certainly never seen anything that looked like that or had the effect on a dragon's scales that this substance did. Maybe Sunrise would know something, she spent all that time reading through old scrolls. He heard a familiar roar and glanced up to see his mother, Brightstar, soaring quickly down to the pulpit; light catching on the gleaming white scales under her wings and bouncing off her jet black hide. Despite not being directly related to the Queen she still commanded a great deal of respect, and the guards lowered their heads; stepping back slightly to allow her to move closer. A deep sadness filled her eyes as she looked down at Ember. The Queen had been one of the first dragons to truly welcome her when she'd first come to the Sky Kingdom with Storm. Eclipse felt himself sag slightly in relief, surely his mother would know what to say or do, she always seemed to know more than anyone else did. He drew his wing back and pushed himself to his feet, opening his jaws to say something, but quickly snapping them shut again at a minute shake of Brightstar's head. "Blackbird and Jet," she called out to two of the guards nearby, "Please take Storm back to the palace." The two SkyWings moved to help Storm to his feet and gently lead him away from the body of Ember. "Take care of him, I'll be there shortly." She took a step towards the healers and began a hushed conversation with them; occasionally gesturing towards Ember and the crowd below. Eclipse moved to stand next to Skua once again, "What should we do?" He bumped his wings against his friend as he shifted uneasily, "Should we try to figure out what the poison is?" He sighed, suddenly exhausted. This festival was supposed to celebrate peace and instead it was going to be a catalyst for war.</s> <\|message\|>Skua At the appearance of Eclipse's mother, Skua had become much more quiet. He had roared and stamped his feet enough; he wasn't a mewling dragonet that had to be told to be quiet. Yet, his tail still lashed wildly, and his bright eyes blazed with fury. The two of them were very much being ignored. The SkyWing guards in the pulpit muttered among themselves, then split off to the dragons keeping watch over the clusters of dragons in the arena. They spoke among each other as well, and then they turned to the spectators and roared something. Skua couldn't hear their voices over the sound of the wind, but the clusters of dragons slowly began to take into the sky. Skua began to wonder why exactly the SkyWings were letting them go, then thought again. If no one knew where the dart had come from, then they had no leads. They would find the culprit eventually, though. Skua eyed Eclipse when he was approached. "You can bet on it," he growled. Though, where would they start? The healers and the royals seemed to only be interested in conversing with one another, and the rest of the guards looked to only know as much as they did. Most, if not all, of them looked confused about the source of the poison. "Where do we start? The healers don't even know where the poison comes from. If they don't know, then who does?"</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse sighed as the guards began to allow the crowds to make their way out. "I don't know," he turned to look at Skua who seemed to be getting more agitated as time went on, "I was thinking that maybe Sunrise might know something. She spends all her time reading old scrolls, or maybe my mom, but I don't think she'd tell us anything. Other than that I really have no idea." He dug the tips of his claws into the stone of the pulpit; anything to keep him remotely grounded with everything going on around them. He didn't really think they'd have much luck in finding out who was responsible or what this poison was. They were just two young dragons and if the healers and every guard who was here knew and saw nothing, what could they possibly do. Despite this he couldn't imagine just sitting around and doing nothing while the tenuous peace they'd lived in for years crumbled to the ground around them. As his thoughts ran circles around each other he noticed his mother had finished whatever conversation she'd been having with the guards, who began to hustle about and prepare for whatever came next, and she began to approach where he and Skua stood. She looked more weary and unsure than he'd ever seen her before and that sent a jolt of nerves across each and every one of his scales. If Brightstar didn't have any ideas then, in his mind, their chances of solving this crept closer to zero. Her eyes swept across the both of them, "I can't imagine either of you know much more than the guards, but if you happened to catch anything that they missed I'd love to hear it." Eclipse shook his head, he had been looking back towards Ash and Sunrise when everyone had begun to panic. All he'd seen was Ember falling to the ground. "Skua said something about a dart," he looked questioningly towards the silvery dragon, "but we already knew that. Did you see where in the crowd it came from? That could help."</s>	<\|message\|>Skua Skua frowned at his friend's reply. So, no one would really know anything about this poison. He tapped a serrated claw against the floor of the pulpit, glaring to the side. His mind rattled with different types of thoughts. Who? Why? It just repeated in his head over and over, only driving forward the anxiety in his chest. The flash of black scales caught his eye, and he raised his head, blinking at Brightstar. "A dart came from the midst of the crowd, but I didn't see anyone winding their arm up to throw it. It just... flew out of nowhere. Now that I think of it, I didn't see anyone that might have had bad intentions, either." Skua found this hard to admit, but he wasn't going to make anything up. One of the things that came from his mixed bloodline was the SkyWings' excellent vision, but even his eyes couldn't pick anything up. "I'm sorry," he bowed his head towards Eclipse and Brightstar. "If only I'd have been more observant..."</s>
<\|description\|>Dreamseeker Namesake: N/A Age: Young Adult Gender: Female Species: NightWing Appearance: Dreamseeker's scales are jet black with a very dark purple undertone, while her underbelly, claws, and horns are ivory white. Her eyes are the same dark color as most NightWings', though in the right light, one can see they are a very, very dark violet. The spines on her back are as dark as her scales, though the stars that speckle her wings are bright silver. Silver scales also line her neck, sides, and tail. She's known to constantly press her wings close to her sides in an attempt to be as small and overlooked as possible. Personality: Sweet, kind, and gullible. Dreamseeker tries to be the best dragon she can be towards others, and has a strong sense of empathy and sympathy. She's a bit nervous, especially when she's asked too many questions or is suddenly thrown into the spotlight. She loves the arts and prefers to draw, write, and read rather than becoming involved in something "greater than her", as her mother would put it. Though, she has a vicious streak of curiosity at times, and will often get in trouble for sticking her nose into business that isn't hers. Dreamseeker also has a small ego, though she tries her best to hide it. Short Bio: Dreamseeker was born in the Night Kingdom, alongside two brothers and a sister. Her father was never around, and so her mother had much disdain for her dragonets-- especially Dreamseeker, the least intimidating of them all. Her siblings often fought and bickered with one another, and she was much often the butt of many pranks and a victim of teasing. When she was old enough, she left home in the dead of night, and has been roaming Pyrrhia since. Other: - Dreamseeker can read minds. - Her favorite form of art is painting.</s> <\|message\|>Skua Skua frowned at his friend's reply. So, no one would really know anything about this poison. He tapped a serrated claw against the floor of the pulpit, glaring to the side. His mind rattled with different types of thoughts. Who? Why? It just repeated in his head over and over, only driving forward the anxiety in his chest. The flash of black scales caught his eye, and he raised his head, blinking at Brightstar. "A dart came from the midst of the crowd, but I didn't see anyone winding their arm up to throw it. It just... flew out of nowhere. Now that I think of it, I didn't see anyone that might have had bad intentions, either." Skua found this hard to admit, but he wasn't going to make anything up. One of the things that came from his mixed bloodline was the SkyWings' excellent vision, but even his eyes couldn't pick anything up. "I'm sorry," he bowed his head towards Eclipse and Brightstar. "If only I'd have been more observant..."</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse leaned a shoulder against Skua, silently making sure the other dragon knew he didn't at all blame him for not being able to notice anything, and gave him a faint smile. His mind was still reeling, running through all manner of questions and possibilities for what could have happened and why someone who do this. The only though that came continually to the front of his mind, no matter how hard he tried to shove it away, was that someone wanted to start a war with the Sky Kingdom. Brightstar simply nodded her head, looking lost in thought for a moment, "It's alright dear. Even the guards who were right up next to the Queen saw nothing, so I shouldn't have expected either of you to have seen any more than they did." She stepped past the two young dragons, briefly brushing her wings against Eclipse, "Go get some rest. It's been a trying day." She smiled warmly, if slightly strained, before leaping from the pulpit and soaring down to the crowds below. Despite what his mother told him, Eclipse found that he could not rest, even as the sun fell in the sky and the stars began to twinkle cheerfully he found himself pacing the length of his room in the palace; like some kind of caged beast. He let out a long sigh before stretching his wings, maybe a flight would do him some good. He was sure it wasn't the smartest idea to be out alone when someone was attacking royals, but he didn't care at that point, his room felt stifling and his darker scales would hide him well enough. Pushing open the doors to the balcony attached to his room he took a deep breath of crisp night air before leaping into the inky blackness and spreading his wings. The wind whistling by and rushing across his scales drove the meddlesome thoughts away as he soared down before looping back up and around towards the mountains. As he glided near the mountain that held the palace his keen vision caught a flash of movement on the stone slightly below him. He came to a stop, flapping his wings to keep him aloft, and stared at the place where he'd seen it; waiting for anything else. After a brief moment he saw the moonlight catch on black scales and for a second he thought it was his mother before remembering seeing her inside the palace with his father. No other NightWings lived in the Sky Kingdom, so they definitely should not be here. He moved slightly closer, but not close enough that he was at risk of being attacked, "Who's there?" he put more force into his voice, like his father did when ordering the young recruits around, "The festival is over. You shouldn't be here."</s> <\|message\|>Dreamseeker She always loved to fly. The night swathed her scales, rendering her almost invisible, even in the moonlight. It was the perfect opportunity to swing by the SkyWing palace in search of any clues to what had happened to Queen Ember. She had come to the Sky Kingdom to take part in her festival, which started with music and food and laughter and ended with screams and questions and tears. She tried her best to be careful in getting too close to the palace; she didn't want to attract any attention, especially the night after the assassination. Yet, her curiosity and concern had gotten the best of her, and she seemingly caught the eye of a rogue SkyWing that had been flying about at this time of night. Dreamseeker flinched at the curtness of his words. Oh no. She didn't want to be stopped by a guard-- or worse, a member of royalty. From this distance, she couldn't tell who it was that had started to approach her, but she wasn't keen on sticking around to find out. She tucked her wings close to her, diving away from the strange SkyWing and towards a nearby patch of woods. She had no chance at outflying a SkyWing-- even from here, she could tell his wings were much larger than hers. Her last resort was to lose him in the trees.</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse watched as the dark form dove away from him towards the swathe of forest that rested at the base of the mountain, "Hey! Stop!" If someone was skulking around they could know something about what happened to Queen Ember, and he wasn't about to let them get away. He owed that much to the rest of his family. He flapped his wings hard, gaining altitude instead of directly following the other dragon downward. The extra height would give him extra speed, so he could hopefully catch whoever this was before they vanished into the night. He felt immensely grateful for the rigorous training his father had put him through to improve his flying skills as he climbed high into the air and positioned himself so that he could fall into a steep dive. He couldn't help a slight grin at the rush of wind as he tucked his wings into a spiral and fell back into the dive; quickly gaining speed and distance on the black scaled form he could just catch sight of nearby the canopy of trees below. His own dark scales allowed him to blend well into the deep blue of the sky, while his SkyWing blood gave him the pinpoint vision needed to track the slight silver and white accents he could see on their scales. The other dragon was small and certainly fast, which slightly threw off his trajectory. He still fell close enough that he was able to snap out his wings and buffet the smaller dragon across the neck and jaw. "Stop running!" His voice came out as more of a low growl, fully intending to intimidate them into stopping if he couldn't do so physically. As his wings caught the air and pulled him slightly back into the sky, he kept a close eye to see what the other would do. He honestly wished that Skua had been out here with him; his friend was actually a guard and certainly would've known more about what to do in a situation like this.</s> <\|message\|>Dreamseeker Perhaps Dreamseeker was hoping for too much when she thought that the shadows would whisk her away from view. But when she felt the SkyWing back on her tail-- no, not on her tail, but so close to her he was able to touch her with his wing-- she couldn't help but gawk. Oh no, no, no! You're supposed to go away! she thought haplessly, her wings flapping harder as she dove straight into the forest. Maybe she could lose him if she ran. Maybe-- O-ow! she winced as she landed. Her front right leg wrenched in such a way that it sent shooting pain up her wrist and forearm. In a panic, she tried to rush off into the underbrush, but the splitting pain made her let out a little whimper. Well, then. There was no getting away not. Alright, Dreamseeker. Just try to make yourself look scary. Maybe, if you look scary enough, he'll just run away and leave you alone. She heard the SkyWing land behind her. Dreamseeker whirled around, showing her fangs as she flattened her ears. "G-go away!" she snarled as viciously as she could. Her wings flared as her tail lashed back and forth. "Just so you know, I'm a NightWing! I-I can tell the future and read minds! Oh, a-and I'm an animus! Yeah! So fly away before I turn you into a salamander, or something like that!" Oh yeah, Dreamseeker. Totally scary.</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse felt the ground under his claws give a bit as he landed in the soft forest dirt and heard the faint whimper come from the NightWing as he got closer. He felt slightly bad at having caused her to get injured in the fall, but since that his intent in the first place was to get her on the ground he supposed it counted as a success. He took a step closer even as she bared her teeth at him and flared her wings. He was much bigger than she was, but he knew never to underestimate an opponent no matter how unassuming they might be. He flared his own wings, the moonlight coming through the canopy catching on the galaxy-like patterns on their underside. He raised his neck up and bared his teeth in a low snarl. A snarl that almost turned into a snort at her stuttering attempt at a threat. "My mother is a NightWing and she doesn't have any powers like that." He didn't let his guard down but looked over her closely. He had no idea what an assassin might even look like. He narrowed his eyes, tail twitching nervously, "Why were you around the palace so late?" he felt a growl building up in his chest, "Were you responsible for the death of the Queen? Trying to come and kill another one of us?" His tail went from twitching to lashing at the thought of standing in front of the one who killed his aunt. His claws dug into the ground and he prepared himself to lunge forward at even the slightest move from the NightWing.</s> <\|message\|>Dreamseeker Her eyes widened when she saw the size difference between the SkyWing and her. He was a male, so it was to be expected, but what surprised her the most was the pattern of silver scales on the underside of his wings. He's part NightWing, she realized before he even said so. Moons, this was bad. Usually other types of dragons would be unwilling to mess with one of her kind. But this dragon knew exactly what she was capable of. And he very much thought that she was less than scary. Her whole master plan was going awry, and there was nothing she could do. If only she could tell the future. But what if she saw herself being thrown in a prison cell? Would that bring her any comfort? His words did interest her, though. Dreamseeker perked up, still on the defensive even as she realized something. He thought she was the one that killed the queen? "Wait, wait, wait," she arched her neck forward to peer at the other dragon. "I didn't kill anyone. I was trying to figure out exactly what happened to Queen Ember. I mean, I know she got killed and all, but the guards didn't say anything specific, and the whole commotion just kept on getting worse and worse--" She realized she was blabbering. Dreamseeker took up a more relaxed position in an attempt to appear less of a threat. Her wings tucked closely against her sides as she shifted into a sitting position. "I'm Dreamseeker, by the way," she murmured. "I didn't mean to cause such a fuss. I thought you'd want to arrest me. Or worse, kill me."</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse As the NightWing, Dreamseeker, introduced herself and relaxed her stance Eclipse let himself do the same. He folded his wings in but still kept his head held high, "I'm Eclipse, Queen Ember was my aunt," he huffed out a breath, a bit of smoke and flame puffing into the air in front of him, "If I found out you were somehow responsible you would be dead," he said perhaps a bit too harshly, it'd been a rough day, and chasing down a rogue NightWing was not how he expected to spend the good majority of his night. The trees mostly covered the light of the stars and moon, so if she did have something to do with it and attacked him, well he didn't think anyone would find his body soon. He banished those thoughts with a shake of his head. He quickly assessed her now that she wasn't flying or threatening him. She certainly seemed much too small and timid to be responsible for something as horrific as Queen Ember's death, and she said she was looking into it. He felt a flash of confusion, "Why do you want to figure out what happened to her?" he turned his head curiously, "What does that have to do with you?" Maybe she knew something that none of the SkyWings did. She could have been closer, she could have seen something. Before he let his hopes get to high he focused fully on Dreamseeker, waiting to see what she might have to say.</s>	<\|message\|>Dreamseeker Well, it wasn't like she expected the SkyWing's serious attitude to dissipate. If anything, he was more confused than before. Dreamseeker caught a glimpse of his thoughts; he still perceived her as a threat. If she attacked him, there was no way that she'd be able to kill him, no matter how hard she would fight. She frowned a little at him, shaking her head. "I'm no threat, so no need to be worrying about me being responsible. I can't get my claws on anything that might kill a queen, no matter how much I'd try. Why would I want to kill Queen Ember anyways?" she asked him as she curled her tail around her feet. Her eyes didn't waver from his proud posture, ducking her head even more as she lifted up her injured foot further from the floor. It still radiated pain, and she could feel it swelling. His next words were as sharp as teeth. Dreamseeker couldn't help but feel a little injured, flicking her tail slightly. "I don't know about you, but I value the peace among the tribes just as much as any other dragon," she said a little hotly. "I was hoping to get a lead on what killed her. You still don't trust me, do you?"</s>
<\|description\|>Dreamseeker Namesake: N/A Age: Young Adult Gender: Female Species: NightWing Appearance: Dreamseeker's scales are jet black with a very dark purple undertone, while her underbelly, claws, and horns are ivory white. Her eyes are the same dark color as most NightWings', though in the right light, one can see they are a very, very dark violet. The spines on her back are as dark as her scales, though the stars that speckle her wings are bright silver. Silver scales also line her neck, sides, and tail. She's known to constantly press her wings close to her sides in an attempt to be as small and overlooked as possible. Personality: Sweet, kind, and gullible. Dreamseeker tries to be the best dragon she can be towards others, and has a strong sense of empathy and sympathy. She's a bit nervous, especially when she's asked too many questions or is suddenly thrown into the spotlight. She loves the arts and prefers to draw, write, and read rather than becoming involved in something "greater than her", as her mother would put it. Though, she has a vicious streak of curiosity at times, and will often get in trouble for sticking her nose into business that isn't hers. Dreamseeker also has a small ego, though she tries her best to hide it. Short Bio: Dreamseeker was born in the Night Kingdom, alongside two brothers and a sister. Her father was never around, and so her mother had much disdain for her dragonets-- especially Dreamseeker, the least intimidating of them all. Her siblings often fought and bickered with one another, and she was much often the butt of many pranks and a victim of teasing. When she was old enough, she left home in the dead of night, and has been roaming Pyrrhia since. Other: - Dreamseeker can read minds. - Her favorite form of art is painting.</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse opened his jaws to respond to her comment before snapping them shut. He didn't remember saying she might be responsible out loud. That was a problem for later. Just add it to the long list of problems he needed to deal with. "I don't know why you'd want to kill her, I don't know why the dragon who did kill her wanted to," he could feel that same rage bubbling up, not at Dreamseeker, but just the situation as a whole, "I just know that someone killed a member of my family, and for all I know there was no reason at all!" His voice grew to a near shout towards the end of the sentence as all the frustration of the day finally overflowed. He turned away from the NightWing for a moment, regaining his composure with an angry huff and a deep breath. He turned his head back towards her at her rather hot comment; noticing her favoring her leg and made a mental note that, in the event she proved trustworthy, to help her out with that. "I value peace but I know the one who did this definitely doesn't," he frowned at her as she asked about trust, "You haven't exactly given me a reason to trust you. You were sneaking around my home in the middle of the night. That's not exactly trustworthy behavior." He took a moment to just sit down and think; gazing up through the trees as if the stars above him might have the answers he needed. They knew nothing, not who did, not how, not why, and no one had even started anything else. What were they waiting for? The weakness that came with Ember's death would be enough for another tribe to attack them, yet nothing had happened. Maybe they were waiting for another moment of vulnerability. He sighed, the anger he felt giving way to a deep sadness. He hated the fact that this was what he had to be concerned about. If the next coming dawn would bring even more death to the people he cared for. He looked back towards Dreamseeker, "Did you find anything?"</s> <\|message\|>Dreamseeker Dreamseeker flinched a little at the waves of anger and frustration that flourished from Eclipse's mind. It surged through her own mind, nearly giving her a headache as she fought to maintain her composure. A little shudder flowed over her spine. She didn't know how it was like to suddenly lose a family member, but she did know how it felt to have an empty gap in the family picture when it should be filled. She felt for this strange, weird, half-noble-blooded hybrid. She wanted to walk up to him and brush his wingtip with hers, even if she hadn't known him for long. Her claws scratched into the dirt, lowering her head. So he didn't trust her. He didn't even need to tell her that. "I'm sorry," she admitted. "But I couldn't just walk up to the palace and ask to be let in, could I? I wasn't planning to stay for long. I just wanted to see the weapon that was used to kill her, nothing else." Her voice drifted off in a sigh, and she shifted slightly. Unfortunately for her, she wasn't able to completely block out Eclipse's thoughts. Some of them filtered in, all of them being worried and depressing and absolutely soul-wrenching. Yes, this meant war. Yes, this meant there would be more death, more suffering and fear and tears. "I didn't find anything," she admitted. Dreamseeker hesitated as she mulled over her next words. During her time sneaking around the palace, she was able to catch the thoughts of several guards. All kept wondering about poison... poison, dark, black poison... just like... "Oh!" she suddenly shouted, her head snapping to attention. "I... I heard some guards talking about poison? Like, black poison. No one knows what it is, but I might have read about something in a scroll recently," she explained. "Apparently, it comes from a creature in the rainforest to the very south of Pyrrhia. I'm not sure what, though."</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse shrugged, the last of the anger fading away just leaving him feeling exhausted, "I suppose not unless you had a good reason. Everyone is bit on edge as one would expect." It was in this kind of situation he wished his other friends were here, they'd definitely know what to do or say. His thoughts continued to run in circles as his claws dug into the dirt underneath him and his tail flicked slightly with nerves. "It was a dart. I went up and saw the healers with it. I had like a thick, black fluid on it." As Dreamseeker trailed off he let himself just rest for a moment. Dropping his head and sitting down with his wings resting on the ground. He felt way too tired to keep up the proud and intimidating facade that he had put up at the start. He continued to stare at the NightWing, he never was the best when it came to judging character, but she definitely didn't seem like a threat. He knew Skua would probably scold him for deciding something like that so quickly, but he was too tired to care. He jumped slightly at Dreamseeker's exclamation and his jaw dropped slightly. She knew something about what this poison was, that gave them a lead! He sprang to his feet, a rush of energy coursing through his veins, "That's brilliant!" he resisted the urge to rush forward and wrap his wings around the smaller dragon, and instead settled for grinning widely at her, "That's more than we had to go on before. You have to come and tell someone, I can vouch for you getting into the palace." He would also make sure she got her leg looked at by one of the healers. He flexed his wings, getting ready to take off once again back towards the palace.</s> <\|message\|>Dreamseeker Dreamseeker couldn't help but smile a little at Eclipse's excitement. She was glad to be able to help him out a bit, even if she had no direct business in what had happened. Though, her next suggestion made her flinch a little. Tell someone in the palace? Was that a good idea? She trembled a little. She never went into a palace before, not even in the Night Kingdom. The palace there seemed like a distant dream, or something of myth. How nice it would be for her to actually step foot in the SkyWing palace? But then everyone would be staring, whispering, wondering why a strange NightWing, whom they've never seen before, was in the palace the night after the assassination. But Eclipse was already ready to take flight. "O-oh, alright," she mumbled, lifting herself off the ground and spreading her wings in turn. It was far too late to start sputtering "if"s or "but"s. That, and she felt that this whole thing was more important than some butterflies in her stomach. "Lead the way."</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse could see a bit of nervousness from Dreamseeker as they both flapped their wings and headed back towards the palace, "We could tell my mother, Brightstar, or my friend Skua, he's one of the guards. Both of them are trying to figure out what happened to Queen Ember." His mother would certainly want to hear about a potential lead, she could get the researchers at the palace to look into it, and she might be more receptive to another NightWing than his hot tempered friend. He figured Dreamseeker might have an opinion one way or the other, she was the one who knew the information after all. He kept his pace slow enough so the smaller dragon could keep up, but he couldn't help the excitement that added a bit of power to his wings. Soaring up the side of the mountain he landed on the familiar balcony that lead into his room. He passed through the doors using a light flame to ignite some of the lanterns that hung from hooks on the walls. He turned back to Dreamseeker, "I figured it'd be easier to come in through my room than trying to convince the guards to let us in," he frowned slightly, "Who do you think we should tell?"</s> <\|message\|>Dreamseeker As Dreamseeker flew after Eclipse, she listened to his words. Brightstar-- his mother. Oh, right, he had told her that his mother was a NightWing. And Skua was... what was he? His name sounded like it could be SkyWing, IceWing, maybe both? She tried to scan his thoughts again, and she caught the sight of pale blue and fiery scales. Oh, so another hybrid. She mulled on the thought a little as she followed himself, landing a little clumsily as she tried to keep her injured leg off the floor. She couldn't help but peer around the room in interest. It sure was neat and clean there. "Good idea," she huffed at his explanation. She had been worried about what would happen if the guards at the front door didn't take well to her presence. Dreamseeker blinked, flicking her tail. "Well, uh, how about your mother, Brightstar? Like you suggested, maybe she would be more willing to listen because I'm a NightWing as well."</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse gave a nod, paused for a moment, he remembered thinking that, but not saying it out loud. Weird. He shook his head slightly, his mother was of the reasonable sort, so hopefully she wouldn't jump to any conclusions. He walked towards the door, past neatly packed shelves of scrolls and racks of knick knacks that he'd collected over the years, and opened it; peering out in either direction down the halls of the palace to make sure their weren't any guards immediately nearby. He could see a few at the ends of the halls, thankfully their backs were to them, at least for now. He knew that he would be able to tell the guards to simply leave them be given his status, but he'd rather get to his parents room without too much trouble. "Once we go see my mother she can come with us to see the healers for your leg," he winced slightly, "Sorry about that by the way. I really didn't mean for you to get hurt." Apologizing wasn't really his strong suit so he was glad to get that over with. He took a deep breath before flicking his tail towards Dreamseeker to follow him a short ways down the hall. The walls were lit with torches held in neat sconces and neatly made tapestries hung in even intervals down the length of the hall. Thankfully his parents room was only a short distance away and he was able to push the door open and slip inside. The room wasn't lit but he could see the forms of both his mother and father wrapped around each other, sleeping soundly. He felt a pang of regret at waking her, but he knew she'd want to be told about this as quickly as possible. "Mom," he whispered into her ear, gently poking her side, "Wake up." Her large black head immediately snapped up and focused on Eclipse, before quickly falling on Dreamseeker standing behind him. "Eclipse? What's going on?" She gently untangled herself from Storm, "Who is this?" She pushed herself to her feet, dark eyes fixed on the smaller NightWing. Her gaze intense and questioning. "This is Dreamseeker," Eclipse whispered, as his mother's eyes flickered to him briefly, "She knows something about what happened to Queen Ember." At this, Brightstar's eyes immediately snapped back towards Dreamseeker.</s>	<\|message\|>Dreamseeker Dreamseeker realized that she might have been a little too brazen with what she said, but it was too late to correct that mistake. Luckily for her, the other dragon didn't press the strange happening. I have to be more careful with reading minds. He almost caught me there, she told herself as she followed him. There wasn't an issue with telling him that she could read minds. It was just that now wasn't the time or place. If she suddenly told him that, maybe he wouldn't trust her anymore. Maybe he would hand her over to the guards when he got the chance. I'll just tell him some other time. No harm in that, right? She perked up when he tossed an apology her way. Ducking her head, she smiled sheepishly. "No need to apologize. It was sort of my fault," Dreamseeker murmured, glancing down at her foot. At least it wasn't turning discolored or swelling more. It was probably just a bad sprain. Nevertheless, she was very careful not to put much weight on it as she continued to follow Eclipse down the hall. Her eyes scanned the walls and flickered to the nearby guards at the end of the corridor before she found herself slipping through a door. It was dark, but she could see two dragons entertwined deeper in the room. Luckily for them, the NightWing didn't seem to mind being woken up too much, and Dreamseeker dipped her head in greeting. "Hello," she whispered politely. Her eyes wavered to the SkyWing that shared the room with her. That must have been Eclipse's father. She shifted uneasily, trying to keep her mind on track. "I heard that the dart that killed Queen Ember was covered in black poison. I read a scroll that said that there's a creature in the southern rainforest that spits black poison, so the assassin might've gone there to gather it. I'm sure that if we check the rainforests, we'll get a lead sooner than later." She glanced at Eclipse, hoping that he'd give her a sign if she explained her well enough.</s>
<\|description\|>Dreamseeker Namesake: N/A Age: Young Adult Gender: Female Species: NightWing Appearance: Dreamseeker's scales are jet black with a very dark purple undertone, while her underbelly, claws, and horns are ivory white. Her eyes are the same dark color as most NightWings', though in the right light, one can see they are a very, very dark violet. The spines on her back are as dark as her scales, though the stars that speckle her wings are bright silver. Silver scales also line her neck, sides, and tail. She's known to constantly press her wings close to her sides in an attempt to be as small and overlooked as possible. Personality: Sweet, kind, and gullible. Dreamseeker tries to be the best dragon she can be towards others, and has a strong sense of empathy and sympathy. She's a bit nervous, especially when she's asked too many questions or is suddenly thrown into the spotlight. She loves the arts and prefers to draw, write, and read rather than becoming involved in something "greater than her", as her mother would put it. Though, she has a vicious streak of curiosity at times, and will often get in trouble for sticking her nose into business that isn't hers. Dreamseeker also has a small ego, though she tries her best to hide it. Short Bio: Dreamseeker was born in the Night Kingdom, alongside two brothers and a sister. Her father was never around, and so her mother had much disdain for her dragonets-- especially Dreamseeker, the least intimidating of them all. Her siblings often fought and bickered with one another, and she was much often the butt of many pranks and a victim of teasing. When she was old enough, she left home in the dead of night, and has been roaming Pyrrhia since. Other: - Dreamseeker can read minds. - Her favorite form of art is painting.</s> <\|message\|>Dreamseeker Dreamseeker realized that she might have been a little too brazen with what she said, but it was too late to correct that mistake. Luckily for her, the other dragon didn't press the strange happening. I have to be more careful with reading minds. He almost caught me there, she told herself as she followed him. There wasn't an issue with telling him that she could read minds. It was just that now wasn't the time or place. If she suddenly told him that, maybe he wouldn't trust her anymore. Maybe he would hand her over to the guards when he got the chance. I'll just tell him some other time. No harm in that, right? She perked up when he tossed an apology her way. Ducking her head, she smiled sheepishly. "No need to apologize. It was sort of my fault," Dreamseeker murmured, glancing down at her foot. At least it wasn't turning discolored or swelling more. It was probably just a bad sprain. Nevertheless, she was very careful not to put much weight on it as she continued to follow Eclipse down the hall. Her eyes scanned the walls and flickered to the nearby guards at the end of the corridor before she found herself slipping through a door. It was dark, but she could see two dragons entertwined deeper in the room. Luckily for them, the NightWing didn't seem to mind being woken up too much, and Dreamseeker dipped her head in greeting. "Hello," she whispered politely. Her eyes wavered to the SkyWing that shared the room with her. That must have been Eclipse's father. She shifted uneasily, trying to keep her mind on track. "I heard that the dart that killed Queen Ember was covered in black poison. I read a scroll that said that there's a creature in the southern rainforest that spits black poison, so the assassin might've gone there to gather it. I'm sure that if we check the rainforests, we'll get a lead sooner than later." She glanced at Eclipse, hoping that he'd give her a sign if she explained her well enough.</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse watched his mother carefully as Dreamseeker explained what she knew, trying to gauge any kind of reaction she might have. He watched her brow furrow and felt a slight sinking feeling. If she didn't know what it was then they'd probably have to go and try to get the information themselves. He'd never been to the rainforest, but he'd read enough scrolls to know that some dangerous creatures lived there. Not the RainWings, but other things. Clearly given what he saw happen to Queen Ember's scales it must've taken a great deal of trouble to get a hold of whatever this poison was. He gave Dreamseeker a nod and encouraging smile as she glanced his way before looking back towards Brightstar, "What do you think?" he kept his voice low, hoping not to wake his father, "Do you think it's worth looking into?" Brightstar continued to stare hard at Dreamseeker, "Yes, this is certainly more information than we had before," she frowned, deep in thought for a moment, "I've never heard of any kind of creature that spits a poison like that, but it is certainly worth looking into." She looked down towards where the smaller NightWing was favoring her leg, "Come. We'll have one of the healers look at your leg, and you can tell me where you read this information." With that she stepped out of the room, waiting in the hall for the two young dragons to follow. Eclipse looked back towards his father for a moment, who looked grief stricken even in sleep, his wings and claws twitching with restless energy. Storm and Ember had been closer than most siblings he knew, and if he was hurting this much from losing his aunt, he couldn't even imagine what the older SkyWing must be feeling. He didn't care what it took, he'd find the one responsible for hurting his family. As he turned and followed his mother out he whispered towards Dreamseeker, "You certainly got her attention. If anyone can get the right dragons to look into this it's her." He gave her a faint grin and offered her his shoulder to lean on as they began the walk towards the healers.</s> <\|message\|>Dreamseeker Dreamseeker fought to keep the slight smile on her face, though it was difficult with the way Brightstar was looking at her. It was as if she was being deeply scrutinized from the point of her horn to the tip of her tail. She was extremely tempted to just duck behind Eclipse and avoid the other dragon's look, but Eclipse's encouraging smile made her steel her nerves. Oh moons, was she trembling? Could they tell she was? Brightstar's gaze went down to her injured leg, and Dreamseeker looked at it, almost forgetting it was there in the first place. Her heart had been beating so fast, she hardly felt the pain anymore. But what came out of Brightstar's mouth were not words of scorn or dismissal. Instead, she was very much interested in what she had to say. She perked up as her eyes glimmered. Did she really believe her? If only she wasn't so nervous-- she could have checked herself. Her frantic thoughts subsided when she heard Eclipse whisper. Her smile a little more strained and nervous, she accepted his motion and leaned against him. "Thanks," she murmured back as she sent a glance towards the dragon that still slept. Something inside her stirred, and she couldn't help but feel saddened by the sight. The poor dragon was clearly tortured, even in his sleep. "I'm just glad she trusted me. I was worried that she wouldn't."</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse As Eclipse and the two NightWings began the walk to the healers, past a few guards who immediately snapped to attention at the appearance of both him and his mother, he responded to Dreamseeker's concern, "My mother is very good at reading others, insightful," he let out a slight huff, "She would have been able to tell if you were lying I think." He smiled lightly as he looked towards where Brightstar lead the way, "She is not a dragon to immediately pass harsh judgement without knowing everything she can." They rounded the corner and down a short staircase that led to the healers chambers. Thankfully there were no injured dragons that couldn't go back to their homes after the stampede that occurred after the attack, cuts and bruises were among the worst that he'd seen. He took a moment to appreciate the emptiness of the room, if he knew anything about some of the allies of the Sky Kingdom, they would definitely be seeking some kind of revenge. As the trio walked in Eclipse recognized the SkyWing that had been with Queen Ember, Cloud, who had several scrolls open across the floor and desk near the back of the room and the dart that had killed the queen nearby. Their brow was furrowed in deep concentration as one claw ran lightly across the words inked onto the pages. "Cloud," Brightstar called out, startling the other dragon out of their thoughts, "Would you come take a look at this poor dear's leg. I believe it's sprained." As the healer gave a nod and pushed the scrolls quickly aside; rushing about to grab the necessary supplies to wrap the leg, Brightstar turned back to face Dreamseeker, the her gaze softer than it was before, "Now if you wouldn't mind telling me where you read about this poison?" She sat down lightly with her tail wrapped loosely around her front legs, almost cat like in a way, her expression cautiously hopeful.</s> <\|message\|>Dreamseeker Dreamseeker found herself relaxing as Eclipse told her about his mother. That was a relief. She had met much harsher NightWings, well-studied or not. Many of them had a huge, almost aggressive ego. She had somewhat of an ego as well... well, not an ego, perse, but she was proud of where she came from. She tore herself from her own thoughts, giving Eclipse a comforted smile as she allowed herself to be guided down a set of stairs. As they descended, she expected to hear voices of injured dragons or of worried healers, but to her surprise, she was faced with an almost empty room. As Cloud began to tend to her leg, Dreamseeker turned to Brightstar. "I don't remember," she replied, disappointed in herself. She didn't think it'd be so important to remember. "I'm sorry, it was just something that I skimmed over. I never knew it was going to be this necessary to keep in mind." Once her leg was bound with gauze, she set it gently upon the floor. It still hurt, though not as much. Dreamseeker gave Cloud a grateful nod before she turned back towards Eclipse and Brightstar. "I'm sure it will be easy to find a venom spitting creature in the rainforest, though. Just ask the dragons that live around there. Who knows, maybe the RainWings will help out!"</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse felt slightly disappointed at not knowing exactly where the information had come from, that made it a little more difficult to verify, but it was still more than they knew before. He didn't have any idea what they would do about getting to the rainforest, not many dragons traversed the area beyond the RainWings that lived there. "That's alright," Brightstar gave a faint sigh, "It is something to look into and I'm grateful for that." She sat lost in thought for a moment. The scribes at the palace could potentially have some kind of scroll that mentioned these creatures, but she didn't know how long it would take them to find the information they needed, and by then it might be too late to waylay those who wanted revenge. Even if they didn't know who they wanted revenge against. "It might be a bit of wishful thinking that the RainWings would help us," Eclipse looked between his mother and Dreamseeker, "They've never been interested in helping out with anything before." Admittedly he only knew what he'd read about them, but the scrolls were usually fairly accurate and most of them had similar accounts. They would just have to see when they got to the rainforest; not that he would be going. He didn't think there was any way he could convince his parents to let him go out into virtually unknown territory after an assassination. He was surprised there weren't guards on him every second of the day. Brightstar stood and began to make her way towards the stairs, "I'll make sure the guards are aware of your presence so you'll have no trouble whenever you wish to leave." She turned and made her way, presumably, back to Storm and a restful night sleep. "What're you going to do now?" Eclipse turned his full attention on Dreamseeker, "Think there's still something else to find?" He was curious as to what this young dragon would do since she seemed to have much fewer restrictions on where she could go. Maybe she'd go to the rainforest and try to find this creature since she was so interested in figuring out the cause of Queen Ember's death.</s>	<\|message\|>Dreamseeker She caught a wave of slight disappointment from both parties, which made her droop her wings slightly. Dreamseeker wished she could help more, even if Brightstar said that she was grateful for the information. Even Eclipse stated that the RainWings would be unlikely to help because they usually cared mostly about their own things. That in itself was true. She gave a frustrated flick of her tail. Who else would know anything about the rainforest if not the dragons who lived there? She was sure that if they asked nicely, they would help--especially if a good queen had been assassinated using something from the forest itself. Dreamseeker nodded as Brightstar left before she turned to Eclipse. Her eyes widened at his question. What was she going to do? She couldn't necessarily go back home; she swore on her pride as a NightWing she'd never get close to her family again. But if not there, where? The Sky Kingdom wasn't a safe place, and the Kingdom of Sand was far too... sandy. And yet, there was another problem. Was she just going to sit on her tail and let this happen? Even now, there might be more dragons plotting and seeking to undermine Pyrrhia's peace. The very thought made her scales itch. "I... I don't know," Dreamseeker whispered, blinking. "I'm not sure if I could just stand by and let this happen. I-I mean, Queen Ember was assassinated. And I know what happened, and you know what happened, a-and... I'm not sure if I can just go ahead and ignore this. Maybe," she sucked in a breath, "maybe... just maybe, we should help. We could be heroes, you know? Actual heroes, not standing on the sidelines and waiting for help. I hate stories like that. Dragons waiting for heroes, waiting for someone to save them or hoping something bad wouldn't happen." She paused again, fidgeting a little. "S-sorry. I kind of got ahead of myself."</s>
<\|description\|>Dreamseeker Namesake: N/A Age: Young Adult Gender: Female Species: NightWing Appearance: Dreamseeker's scales are jet black with a very dark purple undertone, while her underbelly, claws, and horns are ivory white. Her eyes are the same dark color as most NightWings', though in the right light, one can see they are a very, very dark violet. The spines on her back are as dark as her scales, though the stars that speckle her wings are bright silver. Silver scales also line her neck, sides, and tail. She's known to constantly press her wings close to her sides in an attempt to be as small and overlooked as possible. Personality: Sweet, kind, and gullible. Dreamseeker tries to be the best dragon she can be towards others, and has a strong sense of empathy and sympathy. She's a bit nervous, especially when she's asked too many questions or is suddenly thrown into the spotlight. She loves the arts and prefers to draw, write, and read rather than becoming involved in something "greater than her", as her mother would put it. Though, she has a vicious streak of curiosity at times, and will often get in trouble for sticking her nose into business that isn't hers. Dreamseeker also has a small ego, though she tries her best to hide it. Short Bio: Dreamseeker was born in the Night Kingdom, alongside two brothers and a sister. Her father was never around, and so her mother had much disdain for her dragonets-- especially Dreamseeker, the least intimidating of them all. Her siblings often fought and bickered with one another, and she was much often the butt of many pranks and a victim of teasing. When she was old enough, she left home in the dead of night, and has been roaming Pyrrhia since. Other: - Dreamseeker can read minds. - Her favorite form of art is painting.</s> <\|message\|>Dreamseeker Skua wanted nothing more than to agree with Eclipse. These stupid RainWings were just asking for someone to bite them... or even set a few of them alight. He didn't really like the violent thoughts that crossed his mind, but there was little else to feel when you were suddenly caught between a rock and a really, really hard place. When he felt his friend's scales rub up against him, he leaned into Eclipse's form, seeking to ground himself before he exploded all over these stupid, brainless dragons. "I haven't had anything like that happen before. I'm sorry," Dreamseeker ducked her head, her ears drooping down like a sad dragonet. "But, something tells me that not all of the RainWings are going to be avoiding us. Maybe we could start asking around deeper in the camp, or maybe even try to learn about them. If they see that we don't have ill intent, they could start to approach us instead of the other way around. We'll even have the chance to ask about Handsome." Three moons, Dreamseeker really came up with ideas on a whim, didn't she? Not to mention they were all quite annoying, even if they did make sense and had the potential to make things easier for them. "Alright, where should we start?" he glanced over at the others.</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse Eclipse couldn't decide whether he was angry or tired, probably both at this point. The only thing really keeping him going was the need for answers, and unfortunately they had none of those. Just more questions. He smiled slightly as he felt Skua lean into him, it was grounding for the both of them and that was something they needed at this point. It was either that or do something he'd would definitely regret later. He felt a little bad as he saw Dreamseeker's ears drop. He hadn't meant to accuse her of not being helpful because she certainly was. "I suppose that would be our best bet here. One of them had to have seen something, even if they weren't involved in it. At best we'll get information about who might be responsible, and at worst we figure out where someone who can help us is in the camp." He waved a paw through the air, "It's either that or we sit around here doing nothing productive until tomorrow when we meet with Queen Ardent, and I don't know about the rest of you but if I sit around any longer I'm gonna lose it." He paused at Skua's question, glancing off deeper into the camp where he could see the platforms and trees all intermingled together. It really looked like a maze to someone who wasn't familiar with the space. "Well there's plenty of dragons about and we don't really know the lay of the land here," Aardwolf finally piped up, "If we want to make sure it's someone who didn't hear us talking I say we just fly deeper in until we come across someone who looks reasonably friendly and willing to have a chat." Eclipse snorted softly. He made it sound so simple, but he did have a point about them not knowing anything about this place. As long as they stuck to the platforms though they should be fine. "Alright," he hefted himself to his feet, "Let's get to it then." He stepped to the edge of the platform looking up and down before leaping off into the sky towards one of the platforms he could see higher up and deeper in the forest.</s> <\|message\|>Skua And so, their misfit group of dragons delved deeper into the RainWing camp in search of Handsome. At first, they were only met by shy-eyed individuals who had certainly heard their conversation with Lemur and Hummingbird. But eventually they found less and less resistance. Unfortunately for them, many of the dragons didn't know where Handsome was. From what Skua could tell, it seemed like this Handsome was much unlike his name; he hardly was found in camp, would rather spend time by himself in the forest, and would never tell anyone where he was going. What shocked Skua the most was the fact that these dragons just didn't care about Handsome, and it wasn't like they didn't like him. They simply shrugged and said "I don't know" to most of the questions they asked. "This is getting us nowhere," Skua suddenly growled as they walked to another group of dragons. "Do these dragons even care about anything?" Dreamseeker sighed. "I don't think I've ever read anything like this about the RainWings. I thought they were a vicious, strong tribe that no one dared to cross," she murmured. "But seeing a tribe in such a degenerate state hurts my heart. Just about any other tribe could come and conquer them in a heartbeat. It's terrible..."</s> <\|message\|>Viper It had already been a very busy day for Viper. There were so many dragons that had come to see Queen Ardent and her claws hurt from scribbling on the scrolls that she kept in the room. They were still covered in ink as well and she knew that would take ages to wear off, but it was something she was proud of. It was a symbol that she could do something important for her tribe. Now Queen Ardent was taking a break and she wanted to find these strange dragons that were visiting. It was so exciting! She hadn't met any new dragons in so long. Her normally light blue scales swirled with yellow as she scanned the platforms for anyone she didn't recognize. Ah, there! There was no mistaking the unusual stature and strange colors of foreign dragons. They seemed to be wandering from group to group of lounging RainWings, for what reason she had no idea, but she definitely wanted to find out. As she landed she heard the grumble from the spiky one, but she didn't quite catch the mumbled words from the small, black one. Did other dragon's scales show emotion? Did that mean she was upset about something? That wouldn't be good. She wanted their visitors to have a nice time here. "I wonder why it's like this. Does their Queen just not care?" She heard the comment from the dark red dragon and frowned; her scales tinged an emerald green. "Of course Queen Ardent cares about us," she flapped up and over their heads to land on the platform in front of them, "She spends all day every day listening to the problems we have and coming up with solutions." The red dragon blinked in surprise before giving a sheepish grin, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude." Well he was very polite. She gave them all a bright grin, scales now her usual pattern of light blue and pink. "I heard there were some new dragons hanging around and I just had to come see. You all look like you could maybe use some help with something? Queen Ardent always tells me that I am very helpful so maybe I can do that for you all as well!" She paused in her ramblings for a moment, "Oh! I'm Viper by the way. What's your names?"</s> <\|message\|>Skua Skua was about to open his mouth to answer his friend when another RainWing approached them. Almost immediately, he felt some sort of contempt towards this dragon; he expected her to be another brainless, scaly beast that only cared about what fruit there was to eat. Surprisingly, she showed some brains as she spoke. Skua forced himself to relax in her presence. "Hi, Viper. I'm Dreamseeker, and this is Eclipse, Skua, and Aardwolf," Dreamseeker motioned to the rest of them with a careful wing. "It's very nice to meet you. We were just exploring the place and trying to get to know the RainWings of the tribe. I heard that there was a dragon named Handsome around here. Would you know anything about him?" It was so difficult to not say anything. He clenched his jaw and forced himself to hold his tongue. If they were lucky, Viper would know something about this Handsome character.</s> <\|message\|>Viper Viper's head turned to each dragon as Dreamseeker pointed them out, her eyes wide and excited. "Wow, those are really cool names!" she chirped, "And your wings are so pretty!" She dipped her head down a bit to look at the silver star-like scales on the underside of Dreamseeker's wings as she gestured. She smiled warmly at the others, all of them looked so different than even some of the other dragons that she'd seen occasionally show up in the forest, and most of the time those dragons were all from the same tribe. These guys were super interesting. Her scales brightened to a gold hue and she nodded, "Of course I know Handsome, I know most everyone in the tribe since I work with Queen Ardent almost every day. He's actually pretty quiet and likes to spend time by himself. I've tried to get him to open up and chat with me," she shrugged, "but he doesn't really seem interested." That was ok though, she still liked him even if he didn't want to talk. She paused for a moment tapping her chin with one claw, "I think I saw him heading out into the forest. There's this one little waterfall and oasis out there that I know of that he likes to spend time at. Does that help?"</s> <\|message\|>Dreamseeker Dreamseeker flushed with warmth when Viper complimented her wings. No one really said anything nice about her before, especially a total stranger. Suddenly much more timid than before, she pressed against Eclipse for support. "U-uhm, thanks," she murmured as she forced a smile onto her maw. The poor RainWing wasn't at fault for her shyness, and she hoped that she wouldn't think anything wrong about her. Her mind almost went to press along Viper's thoughts, but she stopped herself. No. There was no point in reading her mind. Not yet, anyway. She perked up when Viper said she did know Handsome-- and pretty well, at that. Apparently, she also worked with Queen Ardent! This was a dragon that they couldn't afford to let slip away. They could learn so much from her. "Oh, thank you so much, Viper. It means a lot. Would you mind taking us to the waterfall? I don't think these guys would appreciate it if we got lost in the forest," Dreamseeker asked.</s> <\|message\|>Eclipse The warm smile stayed on Viper's face, "You're welcome!" Dreamseeker seemed like a shy one, but that wasn't going to stop her from trying to make friends with the small NightWing. She glanced around at the other dragons in the group, "Not to say that the rest of you don't have wonderful looking scales," she said quickly. It felt a bit rude to only say something nice about one of them. She saw Eclipse lean slightly into Dreamseeker as she pressed up next to him and slightly extend one of his own starry wings to rest gently on her back. Yep, definitely an interesting bunch. She sighed a bit with relief. She wanted to make a good impression and help them out and it seems like that was what they wanted to hear. "It would be my pleasure! Getting lost in the forest is not fun and it's super easy to if you don't know where you're going." She turned and waved at a few other RainWings that were resting on the platform before leaping off into the trees and gliding a short ways before turning to wait for the rest of them. "Looks like we finally got lucky." She heard the SandWing say to the rest of the group as he and Eclipse leapt off the platform after her.</s>	<\|message\|>Dreamseeker Aardwolf's words ran true in her mind. It really did seem like they got lucky. They finally met another RainWing that was actually happy to help them rather than, for lack of a more sympathetic word, oblivious and uncaring. Her wings fanned out as she leapt to follow behind Viper, her eyes bright with interest. Perhaps this Handsome character would actually make light of what was going on around them rather than give them a half-smile and a nervous gaze. They flew through the forest for a while. The troupe of dragons swerved around big trees laden with vines, flew over crooked branches, and passed several types of colored birds that Dreamseeker stared at with admiration. This place was truly a paradise, hidden away from open skies, extreme heat, or the freezing rain and cold. She felt a little jealous for the RainWings-- they could really flourish if they had the ambition to do so! Her thoughts were interrupted when they came upon a little opening in the forest. The ripple and splash of water reached her ears, and she perked up to see that they had arrived at said oasis. Her eyes widened at the sight of the large pool, dyed green by the color of the surrounding trees. A small waterfall arched over some mossy rocks at the top of the hill and splashed down into the pool, making the green mirror ripple with even more colors than usual. They glided down to the peaty floor, with Dreamseeker leaning over to look past Viper. Just as suspected, there was a dragon there. Though, unlike the other RainWings, his scales were grungy and gray, like overcasting clouds that threatened storms, or black ink diluted with water. He remained facing away from them, even as they approached, and Dreamseeker did not dare call out to him. It was better if Viper did the talking at first; this dragon just reeked of bad vibes.</s>
<\|description\|>Timothy Spencer Wolfe --- --- Aspiring Pokemon Breeder \| Tim \| 16 Appearance: Tim is noticeably short for a young man his age. It's not something he likes people bringing up. Despite seeming weak and fragile based on his personality, he is actually stronger than he looks. He has a slender, but still toned build and is physically fit due to having spent a lot of time running around outside chasing his Rockruff. He spends a good amount of time in the sun so his skin is lightly tanned as a result, not pale but not bronzed either. He has a mop of black hair on top of his head, and his bangs go to his eyebrows. He has big brown eyes, a small nose, and a round "Babyface", which give him a youthful appearance. His face is clean-shaven, and his upper body is free of any hair except the top of his head and eyebrows. A lot of people consider him cute, but Tim finds getting that kind of attention embarrassing. Tim prefers to dress simply and casually. He doesn't want to have to fuss with his clothes, or worry about ruining them, as well as being comfortable in them. His usual outfit usually consists of a T-shirt, shorts, and sneakers. His favorite shirt is a loose-fitting light blue T-shirt with a white silhouette of a bird on it. He wears a pair of white cargo shorts on the bottom that are held up by a black leather belt. His footwear of choice are a pair of comfortable blue and white sneakers and short white socks. He also wears a light blue knit hat on top of his head that his mom knitted for him. He carries a blue backpack to store whatever essential items he might need to have at the moment. Background: Tim was born in Olivine City. His parents had a hard time concieving a child, and when Tim's mother did finally get pregnant, the pregnancy was very difficult on her. When they finally had their son, he was their miracle baby. Tim's parents weren't rich, but they did all they could to give their son a good life, and give him every advantage. While they expressed having high hopes for their son's success, they tried not to put too much pressure on the boy. For the most part, his life was normal. Tim was often a target of bullying because of his shyness, tendency to get scared easily, and because he was clumsy. No matter what he did to get them to stop it, it always failed or they found something else to give him crap about. It gave him self-esteem issues, resulting in him becoming even more timid. As a result, he had very few friends growing up. He didn't tell anyone about the bullying, lest it become worse. He saw other kids get beaten up much worse after they snitched, and he didn't want that to happen. So he kept it all inside and let his resentment build. From an early age, he always had a special talent for caring for Pokemon. His mother was a Pokemon doctor, while his father was a professional Pokemon Breeder, Tim often volunteered taking care of the Pokemon at his mother's office, or his dad would bring home some of the Pokemon he was looking after, so he practically grew up around Pokemon. They seem to be fond of him due to his softspoken nature. He often finds sick, or injured Pokemon and cares for, plays with, and feeds them when no one else will. Around Pokemon, Tim felt much more like himself. He found relief from the stresses of life, and he's found they are the best friends he could ask for. He always knew he wanted to do something with Pokemon when he gets older. He just wasn't sure what. Tim was very excited when he received a Pokemon Egg on his tenth birthday, and more excited when it hatched into a Rockruff. Life continued as normal for the boy. The bullying he went through still had an effect on him, which is why he doesn't talk to others all that much. After he finished school, Tim knew what he wanted to do with his life. He wanted to raise and care for Pokemon just like his parents do. Knowing this, his parents enrolled him at the Pokemon Masters Academy. It was a school mostly known for battling, but they did have plenty of programs dedicated to the care of Pokemon. Tim demonstrated a knack for the subject and got in, but he is very nervous about starting at a new school. Mainly about having to interact with new people, and possibly get bullied again. Personality: Tim is a shy and quiet individual by nature. He was always this way, and being bullied as a kid didn't help. He is very sensitive and emotional, and has an easy time showing empathy and compassion for others. He can easily be driven to tears when he's sad. He fears being bullied. He usually speaks with a quiet voice, and occasionally a stutter when he's nervous. He also becomes very apologetic when someone shows any hint of being upset. He likes Pokemon of all kinds. From the cute ones to the not so cute ones, he can find something to love about every species. He usually prefers being with Pokemon than with people. Pokemon will listen without judgement, and only expect a little kindness in return. He is gentle and softspoken, which seems to be the reason why he has such an easy time with Pokémon. He gets scared easily, his worst phobia being stage fright. He gets really nervous when there are a lot of people watching him do anything. He's scared that he'll mess up, and that he'll be laughed at. He has self confidence issues, and he dislikes being the center of attention, in a good or bad way. He really wants to be brave, but it's harder than it looks. Despite being shy, he is by no means antisocial. If you talk to him, you'll find he's quite friendly, and polite. He can laugh and make jokes like any other kid. He is always happy to have to new friends, because his shyness makes it difficult to make them. He is very affectionate and loyal to those he likes. He hates it when people are angry around him, so he tries his best to keep the peace. In conversations, he is usually more of a listener than a talker, and he has no problems being a sounding board when someone wants to vent (As long as they don't hurt him.) Tim is very kind to others, often to a fault. He is very trusting of people, and is willing to give them the benefit of the doubt. Tim is usually very difficult to anger, and is very quick to forgive someone when he does get mad. He is more likely to start crying when he is upset. He doesn't want to burden others with his problems, and he fears being made fun of, so he keeps them to himself. This causes him personal frustration, and he occasionally acts passive agressive towards those he disagrees with. When it gets to be too much, he'll lash out at the target, and let out his pent up rage. He dislikes bullying (towards himself or others,) as well as people being needlessly cruel to Pokemon. Doing one of those things is the best way to get him upset. Tim is very careful and calculating. He always thinks before he speaks, and prefers not to wrecklessly jump into danger. However, due to his insecurity he is often uncertain if the choices he makes are the right ones. He can easily be convinced to change his mind. This leaves him with some anger when the plan fails and he knew his original idea would have worked. He also doesn't like violence all that much, having been a victim of it. He will participate in Pokemon battles, but only because his Pokemon want to participate. Although he doesn't look like it, Tim has a big appetite. He likes eating many different kinds of foods, and has the cooking skills to match. That being said, he is a vegetarian. (He'll eat dairy and eggs, but no meat.) What are some ways you would like to affect the story: Character development for Tim first and foremost. He is like Fluttershy from MLP. He's very shy and timid, and over time he will learn to be brave and stand up for himself. He'll also proably gain some self esteem over time, and learn that he is not weak and lame. Encountering a legendary would be cool, but not really a requirement. Tim isn't much of a fan of battling. He thinks Pokemon Contests are cool, but he's too shy to perform in one. His personal goal is to raise and care for a ton of Pokemon. --- --- Rocky --- --- Rockruff ◼ ♂ ◼ Friendly \| Hyper ◼ Own Tempo Rocky is very friendly and full of energy. He loves meeting new people, and Pokemon, and can be seen chatting them up, as well as acting cute to charm others. He enjoys attention, and likes putting on a show to get attention. Although he knows better now, he still views Tim like a father, since he raised him since he was born. He is very affectionate with his trainer, and often licks his face, or nuzzles his ankles. Unlike his trainer, Rocky actually likes taking part in Pokemon Battles, which is the only reason Tim does them in the first place. He is out of the Pokeball more often than not, and is usually being carried in Tim's arms, or walking alongside him. He has also very energetic, and likes running around and playing a lot. Rocky is very friendly and full of energy. He loves meeting new people, and Pokemon, and can be seen chatting them up, as well as acting cute to charm others. He enjoys attention, and likes putting on a show to get attention. Although he knows better now, he still views Tim like a father, since he raised him since he was born. He is very affectionate with his trainer, and often licks his face, or nuzzles his ankles. Unlike his trainer, Rocky actually likes taking part in Pokemon Battles, which is the only reason Tim does them in the first place. He is out of the Pokeball more often than not, and is usually being carried in Tim's arms, or walking alongside him.</s> <\|message\|>Zaria Brightly --- Zaria blinked. Wait... We got a hit? And the Charmander isn't attacking! Instead, she heard the frustrated cry of the fire lizard and realized it was paralyzed into place. Wow! He's paralyzed! There was no other way to go about than keep going for attacks, Zaria thought. They had gotten a hit in, and now she was a little more confident that they'd be able to get in others. Hopefully Rorie wouldn't keep going for Smokescreen, but perhaps they could defeat their opponent before they used the move again. "Another Thunder Shock!" Magnet let out a jagged lightning strike of bright yellow green electricity once more. Magnemite (Magnet) -lv 10 / Ability: Sturdy/ Thundershock, Supersonic, Thunder Wave, Tackle PP: 13 * Pokeball x5 * Oran Berry x5 * Cheri Berry x1 * Pecha Berry x1 * Rawst Berry x1 * Chesto Berry x1 * Aspear Berry x1 * Persim Berry x1 * Leppa Berry x1 * Hidden Power</s> <\|message\|>Antoinetta Lavern Mellona's carapace bore scratch marks, but Emmy clearly fared worse of the two from the successful Struggle Bug. Seeing the smirk wiped off of Nicholas' face, Antoinetta laughed, partly from relief. For all her fears, was this battle going in her and Mel's favour? Not that she could relax just yet, as Nicholas' taunt reminded her. Something nobody had been able to beat before? Surely he was just talking tough...? Judging by his next command, he had to be. Netty chuckled again. "Nobody except us just now," she jeered. "Mel, again, Gust." Once more, Mellona whipped up a mini tornado. Was Nicholas really that forgetful and overconfident, or was this Quick Attack part of a bigger plan? With a gut feeling that it was the latter, Netty watched the round unfold. 13 * Combee (Mellona), lv10 Current moves: Sweet Scent, Gust, Struggle Bug, Bug Bite * Pokeball x5 * Oran Berry x5 * Cheri Berry x1 * Pecha Berry x1 * Rawst Berry x1 * Chesto Berry x1 * Aspear Berry x1 * Persim Berry x1 * Leppa Berry x1 * Hidden Power</s> <\|message\|>Troy Caecilius Troy So his strategy is to give up on evasion or defense and take the hit directly using acid armor as a crutch. It's one thing to know your limits and change your strategy accordingly. It's another entirely to give up on the desperation play and hope things will work out if you ignore it. There is no attack stronger than Rollout once it gets going. If nothing is done about it now, then no amount of acid armor will save Gulpin, and even if Gulpin manages to stop Shuckle later, the damage will have already been dealt, and the war of attrition will have been all but won before it even starts. "Follow through!" Shuckle continues to speed up, flying at Gulpin with an increasingly magnificent plume of rocks and dust trailing behind. Shuckle Lv. 10 Ability: Sturdy Item: Berry Juice - Power Split - Defense Curl - Rollout - Infestation Full moveset: Level-up moves: Withdraw (lv. 1) Wrap (lv. 1) Rollout (lv. 5) Struggle Bug (lv. 10) Power Split (lv. 35, as an exception to make things less boring) Power Trick (lv. 55, as an exception to make things less boring) Previous generation exclusive moves: Bide (lv. 1) Constrict (lv. 1) Mud-Slap (egg move) Egg moves: Acid Acupressure Covet Defense Curl Final Gambit Infestation Knock Off Sweet Scent Toxic Learned TMs: Hidden Power (Electric based on ivs) Poke Ball x5 Berry Juice x3 TM Hidden Power x1 Cheri Berry x1 Chesto Berry x1 Pecha Berry x1 Rawst Berry x1 Aspear Berry x1 Leppa Berry x1 Oran Berry x1 Persim Berry x1 PP: 13</s>	<\|message\|>Timothy Spencer Wolfe The Yamper yelped as it got knocked back by Rocky's tackle. Tim couldn't help feeling bad for it. Hurting innocent Pokémon wasn't something he liked doing. But the Yamper's trainer was a jerk, and needed to be taught a lesson. He went in for the discharge. Tim sighed. "I feel bad for Pachi. He's adorable, and a good boy. It's just unfortunate he gets stuck with an awful trainer like you. Rocky, blind him with Sand-Attack!" Rocky barked as he turned around, and kicked up sand in the Yamper's face. Rocky the Rockruff lv. 10 Tackle* Sand Attack* Double Team* Leer* Endeavor Last Resort Thrash 5 pokeballs, 5 oran berries, 1 cheri, 1 pecha, 1 rawst, 1 chesto, 1 aspear, 1 persim 1 leppa berry Hidden Power TM PP: 13</s>
<\|description\|>Antoinetta Lavern --- --- Aspiring Coordinator \| "Netty" \| 16 Appearance: At 5'5", Antoinetta isn't particularly tall, but her presence makes up for this. She has a carefully cultivated air of sophistication about her, with her neat and stylish clothes, and her confident stride. She dresses more practically for travelling, but still has a put-together appearance. Her golden-brown eyes would be warm looking, if not for the expression of self-assuredness bordering on smugness she usually has. Most of the time, she wears her bright green hair in one or two braids, whether hanging down or coiled up. No matter how she styles her hair, thin antenna-like wisps stick up from it, to her annoyance. Background: Antoinetta was born in Sinnoh's Eterna City to an entomologist couple, and shared their love of Bug types. Growing up, she'd accompany them and other researchers to Eterna Forest and Floaroma Meadow, running around, climbing trees, getting dirty, and observing bugs in their natural habitat. It was a shame few of her peers thought highly of the type. Oh, some trainers favoured Bug types if only to challenge Grass gym leader Gardenia, but many found they lacked the impressiveness of Fire, Flying and Ice types, or simply viewed them as pests that ruined their plants. This made Antoinetta the subject of taunts, with people calling her "creepy-crawly" and "a nerd like her parents". Some people would pretend to film her and comment as if they were running a nature documentary: "The wild freak curls up in a defensive gesture after being pushed onto its back." She was all too glad when the family moved to the Marvalo region to study its vast range of wildlife. While she did have a few friends in Sinnoh - her closest being a female Combee she'd bring honey to in Floaroma - she decided it was time to reinvent herself like a butterfly leaving its cocoon, and make many more. The Combee never left her side, even allowing Antoinetta to catch her and bring her to Marvalo, but even so, the teen presented a "queen bee" persona of confidence and sophistication at her new school. It worked, the kinds of crowds that had rejected her before now accepting her, yet she still felt the need to prove herself. And what better way than by changing schools once again, to the glamourous and prestigious PMA? Applying shouldn't have been as nerve-wracking as it was - surely she could do this with no problem? - but she hid it well enough in the video she recorded of herself and her Combee. The speech she gave, and the impressive petal flurry from Combee's Gust, helped her get through the recruitment process. Personality: Some would describe Antoinetta as outgoing and sure of herself. Others would simply describe her as a showy, stuck-up snob. She likes attention (as long as it's positive), and is quick to get into situations she's unprepared for out of sheer overconfidence - or rather, the need to prove herself. The more successes to brag about, the better. Those who get past this will find she's in fact far from the airhead she seems; she's highly studious and determined, with good problem-solving and practical skills. Her experiences have taught her basic outdoor skills, such as berry foraging, repairs and navigation. She also cares a great deal about her friends and Pokemon - it isn't just herself she wants to prove, but her bugs, an "underrated" type, through battles and contests. That assured front hides the constant fear that her loved ones secretly dislike her, or will abandon her. What are some ways you would like to affect the story: I'd like emphasis on the competitive side of the academy, with her struggle for recognition, and the mistakes she makes along the path to success. A situation where she has to choose between a big event that would showcase her and her Pokemon's skills, and helping with a greater cause, would be interesting - maybe this subplot would have something to do with Genesect? As for her goals, her main one is to be a coordinator. The gym leader route is a possibility she'd at least consider though, since she's a type specialist, and would likely know about Ghost leader/coordinator Fantina. --- --- Mellona --- --- Combee ◼ ♀ ◼ stubborn \| hardworking ◼ Honey Gather A Combee Antoinetta befriended on one of her travels to Floaroma. She'd bring honey to her, and the little Combee took to returning the favour. When Antoinetta moved to Marvalo, Mellona chose to go with her, becoming her starter Pokemon. While the trainer and Pokemon usually get along, Mellona has little tolerance for Antoinetta's bigheaded moments, often buzzing her disapproval loudly in her ear. The three heads will even sometimes bicker among themselves over which kind of nectar to eat first, so they prefer fields and gardens with many different types of flowers.</s> <\|message\|>Timothy Spencer Wolfe Tim wished he could be as self assured as Antoinetta seemed to be. Alas, he knew he could never be that. He would rather sit in the background, raise the Pokémon, and watch the people with more confidence performing. People would just laugh at him if he tried. Everyone wanted to know what Troy's Pokemon was, and the others wanted to know it was, even Tim himself. Troy just coldly refused. What was so wrong about letting your Pokemon out to play? It would be good for the Pokemon to socialize with others. Tim didn't dwell on that for very long. The group finally arrived at their class. They were then greeted by two other students, a boy and a girl. Well, they were mostly greeted by the girl. The boy was just there, and only spoke up once. The girl apologized for the behavior of the others, but then said something about them causing a disruption. Disruption? What disruption was he causing? His Rockruff nuzzled somebody's leg, and barked? That didn't seem very disruptive... Then the girl, named Evey, asked Tim if his Rockruff was specially raised. He blushed, and shuffled his feet. What did that even mean? He cared for all Pokemon. Wasn't that special enough? "Oh... um... I-I-I guess so... My father bred him just for me as a birthday gift, and I've been raising him ever since he was a little baby puppy." He started petting his Rockruff's head. "Isn't that right Rocky?" Rocky let out a happy "Ruff!" In agreement. Rocky the Rockruff lv. 10 Tackle Sand Attack Double Team Leer 5 pokeballs, 5 oran berries, 1 cheri, 1 pecha, 1 rawst, 1 chesto, 1 aspear, 1 persim 1 leppa berry Hidden Power TM PP: 9</s> <\|message\|>Troy Caecilius Troy Troy didn't pay the closest attention to the conversation between Zaria and Antoinetta. He had mostly lost interest in the conversation when Tim rejected his offer and it wandered off into topics irrelevant, like what pokemon are supposedly ugly. Zaria's motives and methods remain to be seen, though the possibility that Troy was expecting something beyond reality out of her actions was creeping its way into consideration. Even with such a possibility on the table though, that does not rule out grander designs, which just makes it harder to guess whether her actions are an act or not. Either way, the conversation was taken over with the introduction of two new students. "Troy." Evey goes on about the interruption this morning. He had to admit, Zaria was really loud earlier, but it's not as if it was unprovoked, nor as if the faculty had done much about the situation to suggest they had any interest in keeping it from happening again. If this is how the PMA reacts to altercations between students, then it begged the question how competent the faculty actually were. It was always possible that staff competency outweighed their disciplinary shortcomings, but the school prefect wasn't instilling any faith. In any case, Masaru seemed interested in a battle, but wasn't requesting one directly. Judging from his demeanor and choice of company, he didn't trust Masaru enough to expect the battle to not have consequences. Troy wasn't one to turn a battle down, even if there were social risks, if only because the best training is always hands-on. However, there was a risk that Shuckle would be shut down altogether, gaining no meaningful experience and making the entire encounter a pointless waste of time. Troy's metaphorical trigger finger itched, but his team of one still had obvious weaknesses that might impede practical training. "If you're looking for a battle, you might have to wait a while." He didn't want to delay a battle unnecessarily, but as it stands right now, it was unclear how much he stood to gain from this, making it conflict with his goals. His team was too unbalanced, and as any one-man team is, utterly helpless against a variety of moves or ailments. Still... the allure of battle was tempting. Troy didn't want to rule out the possibility, so he gives a simple explanation that would let him work with a non-committal time-frame. "We have class, after all." Troy eyes the others, waiting to see if they had something to say or if it was time to just leave. Shuckle Lv. 10 Ability: Sturdy Item: Berry Juice - Power Split - Defense Curl - Rollout - Infestation Poke Ball x5 Berry Juice x3 TM Hidden Power x1 Cheri Berry x1 Chesto Berry x1 Pecha Berry x1 Rawst Berry x1 Aspear Berry x1 Leppa Berry x1 Oran Berry x1 Persim Berry x1 PP: 9</s> <\|message\|>Zaria Brightly Zaria Brightly --- The spat resolved itself quickly enough, but not without Antoinetta getting the last word. That was fine with Zaria, she had been past done at that point. She's probably just sensitive. People had insulted her plenty about her preferences of things, and that was supposed to be normal and fine, right? She'd had things she cherished made fun of before, and people had always told her she was being silly. Netty had probably had people saying yes to her all her life, Zaria thought with a roll of her eyes. She and her stupid contests, she fumed while trying to brush away the feather of jealousy that kept tickling her. Troy shot down her request, and though she felt a little miffed, she got over it pretty quick. Should she have been surprised? Probably not. When they reached class, a pair of students were waiting for them, though they seemed more intrigued by Troy and Tim. Again, Zaria felt a pang of inadequacy. Why hadn't anyone come up to her? Learning that their names were Evey and Masaru, she studied them, but once Evey started her reprimands she didn't want to listen anymore. Ughhhh, do they need to bring this morning up? I was the one who started the whole damn thing. Then I just shouted at everyone! Can't wait to forget about this... Too busy internally freaking out, she didn't notice anything else off about Evey, but Zaria did decide that she would avoid her at all cost anyways. Evey had made her feel awful about herself, and she tended to steer clear of people who did so, friend or foe or stranger. Her cheeks tinged with pink from embarrassment and her grin looking sheepish, she excused herself. "Yeah, class, so I'm gonna head in. See you guys," she said, slipping past her peers to the classroom where she could just sit and think. Magnemite -lv 10 (Magnet) / Ability: Magnet Pull/ Thundershock, Supersonic, Thunder Wave, Tackle PP: 10 * Pokeball x5 * Oran Berry x5 * Cheri Berry x1 * Pecha Berry x1 * Rawst Berry x1 * Chesto Berry x1 * Aspear Berry x1 * Persim Berry x1 * Leppa Berry x1 * Hidden Power</s>	<\|message\|>Antoinetta Lavern Troy's brusque reply earned a little frown from Antoinetta, but she didn't press. Was he worried his starter would get him laughed at? Or was he simply not in the mood to socialise? She couldn't blame him after the earlier fiasco. She strode alongside him into the Academic Wing, not that striding was easy when she had to stay on tiptoes to keep her balance. She tensed as she spotted two students standing outside class 2-A, looking right at the group as if they'd been waiting. The girl's smile, however, held no malice, only friendliness. Head up high, Netty returned the grin. "Hey, I'm Antoinetta, as you'll know." Not just from the name badge, but from her introduction earlier, which surely would have made quite the impression if only Zaria had been looking where she was going. At Evey's mention of the incident, Netty hid the flare of embarrassment behind a laugh. "Pffff, as if I'd let something like that get to me," she replied. "And nobody's gonna be making fun of us later down the line." Here, at least, was one exception to those jerks by the look of it. Masaru, though... Netty wasn't sure what to make of him. Much like Troy, his quietness and neutral expression made him difficult to read. As soon as he mentioned battles, Netty bristled again, ribs tightening. The challenge she'd issued, it seemed, was swiftly coming back to haunt them. She hadn't expected Evey's response to set off even more alarm bells. Just like that, the prefect's smiles-and-sunshine demeanour had given way to a rather less pleasant one, then switched back as if nothing had happened. Netty shuffled back a step. Something about Evey reminded her of those fake friends who turned against people when their guard was down. "Yeah, we'd better get to class," Netty answered, backing up Troy and Zaria. "Got to make sure everything goes smoothly from now on, after all. So, later!" Some chance of that, she thought, holding out a Pokeball to Mellona. "Hey Mel, time to come back now, but we can look around after classes." The Combee fluttered over, letting her trainer pet her once more, then disappeared into the capsule. With that, Antoinetta marched into the classroom after Zaria, wasting no time in taking a seat. 9 * Combee (Mellona), lv10 Current moves: Sweet Scent, Gust, Struggle Bug, Bug Bite * Pokeball x5 * Oran Berry x5 * Cheri Berry x1 * Pecha Berry x1 * Rawst Berry x1 * Chesto Berry x1 * Aspear Berry x1 * Persim Berry x1 * Leppa Berry x1 * Hidden Power</s>
<\|description\|>Oswald Krate Gender: Male Age: 30 Occupation: Writer/Historian District: North District Supernatural/Human: Human Any associated powers: Stand User-He can summon a manifestation of his spirit to defend himself against would be aggressors. It also allows him to pull out a book from a living organism, which will contain the history of that being's life. It is connected to the said being via a chain, and if broken, it would remove that creatures memories altogether. The book needs only be placed against the creature for it to be returned if broken. Even though stands can only be seen and interacted with by other stands and their users, those whom are undead, are able to at least see them, but ghosts can actually "physically" interact with them. Appearance: -Height: 5'8 -Build: Average -Eyes: Brown -Hair: Short, Dark Brown -Skin Tone: White -Personal Style: Wears a Bowler hat, a light brown tailed coat, white shirt, dark brown waistcoat and plain black trousers with simple black shoes. Personality: Oswald is a curious and curtious individual, respecting those who deserve respect, and making sure others feels at ease around him. He also has a habit of losing control of his temper when someone knocks off his hat. Backstory: Originally from North London, Oswald was always fascinated about the stories he was told by his grandfather. And ever so keen to learn more about the world and its many secrets, he would visit the library frequently. He would eventually work there for a time. During his twenties, he decided to go travelling around the country, purely due to his deep interest in history. And during a journey through Northern England, he visited the ruins of a small fort. Whilst climbing the stairs of a ruined tower, he had lost his footing, and expected the worst as he fell back, but was saved by a spectral hand grasping onto a sturdy bit of stone sticking out of the wall. At first he thought it a ghost or even a guardian angel come to rescue him from certain death. But he'd soon know how to use and control it. Years later, he would turn his historical research toward the colonies of the Americas, as it is a land rife with adventure and curios, as well as business and opportunity. The land had some quite interesting folk and locations, with equally as interesting stories in turn. He would go on to become an author for detailing and sharing these stories to all. Skills/Specialties: Oswald is a fast reader, and an accomplished writer. He has written four books already about some of the lesser known, and somewhat bizarre towns, in both the U.S and Canada. Though Serpent's Snag will prove to be the most bizarre of the lot.</s> <\|message\|>Barnaby Thorne Location: Shanty Town • Mentions: None Fall, 1768 "Control your breathing," came the whisper from behind. Barnaby looked on at the mark with intense concentration. The target was a middle aged man browsing the farmer's market, currently trying to size up a pair of apples before making his selection. "You have to move quickly and silently. You've got to stop being a man and become one with the breeze." Barnaby looked back to see his mentor, Draven, staring intently upon the mark as a lion would look upon an antelope. The advice nearly gave Barnaby a chuckle. He did't typically make it a point to associate with vampires, but Draven was the enemy of his enemy and so their mutual objectives created a kinship. While Barnaby was relatively new to life on the streets, Draven was rich with experience and lessons on how to survive. "He's going to feel my hand," Barnaby said quietly. "Then make him feel something else, first. No one pays any mind to hands being clapped to the left when there is an explosion to the right. Create your explosion before you make your move." His words were soft and velvet and the advice was sound. If he was going to pick this pocket and snatch the money within, he was going to have to mask his move with a larger move. For a moment, he thanked his lucky stars that Draven had found him and taken him under his wing. Despite being a vampire, Draven was the best friend Barnaby could ever hope for. Present Day, 1875 "I will render that blood sucking bastard headless!" Barnaby shouted into the ether as he looked upon the gossiping beggars. A fancy, dolled up enigma who seemed to have all the time in the world to acquire his fortune? The specter reckoned he knew who might fit that description. "I will watch and laugh with utmost satisfaction as that parasitic monster experiences the life slowly drain from his nigh immortal husk." The more he spoke, the louder he projected but the beggars seemed unphased by his outburst. It had become quite obvious that they couldn't see nor hear the ghost. Barnaby took a beat and tried to recall his senses. He must be calm and collected to take on a clever devil like Draven. His mind must be clear and calculating. Out of habit, as opposed to necessity, Barbaby took a deep breath before exhaling slowly. Finally, when his calm seemed to return, he inquired further. "This House. My days have been long and my memory's a bit more difficult to maintain than it once was. Remind me, where is The House." His question was met with indifference. In fact, the beggars seemed to not react at all. Barnaby gritted his teeth. He knew this meant they would be of no help. He would have to rediscover The House himself. "FINE!" He shouted, but this time his voice had a little something extra behind it. Like a noble in a carriage, his words rode on the back of a powerful fury that created a ripple in the ether. That ripple touched both the realms of the living and the dead, sending a small spontaneous gust of arctic breeze into the air around which Barbaby stood. The beggars paused and acknowledged the incident, but the anomaly was subtle enough that they soon brushed it off and went about their morning. It was no matter. Pieces of memory about The House of Earthly Delights was slowly starting to repopulate his mind. He was even beginning to remember how to get there from Shanty Town. The more he concentrated, the more he recalled and the angrier he got. He could take pleasure in one thing, though: It was time. He would have his revenge. Barbaby would paint the streets with the vile leech's blood.</s> <\|message\|>Jean Charpentier --- In the heart of the Night District rests a man in an ill-prepared, lidless casket yet he himself is neither ill, dying, dead nor undead. This makeshift box filled with hay and a solitary cloth sheet wasn't fit for anyone's eternal rest and the local carpenter knew that. So why was he sleeping in his latest craftwork? If he were to receive a visitor during the witching hours, he definitely did not want to be deep asleep in comfort. Jean Charpentier was no fool. Something strange (well, stranger than usual) was moving about late at night for the past few moons. He knew how the folks of the Night District traversed and they definitely didn't sound like a four-legged beast in heat, slobbering and howling at odd intervals. This noise has kept him up with at least one eye opened at all times. However, as the sun rises obscured by heavy haze over Serpent's Snag, Jean has no choice but to endure the next business day with what little sleep he has afforded for himself. His own casket will have to wait until he'll need it again. It wasn't every day he'd get to sell his woodwork but you can bet that there'd be some oddball bothering him during all store hours. Seems today wouldn't be any different as ol' Oliver Nightwell made his sly presence known by informing Jean about what was keeping him up at night and what will be keeping him alert during the day. Wolves aren't ones to be trifled with but law enforcement are a different kind of predator – more vicious and able to play with their food before going for the kill. Lawmen from all over have been the bane to the Frenchman for the majority of his life, stemming back from his memories as a child to a peasant class couple all the way to just before arriving in Serpent's Snag. Needless to say, he wasn't their biggest fan and he suspected Oliver told him this to rile him up. The carpenter had tried his best not to give him the satisfaction of getting under his skin by remaining inexpressive during their… conversation. Though Oliver was about to leave, the last part of his message was definitely cause for alarm. A slight twitch on Jean's mouth could be visibly seen before uttering "Thank you. Good bye." to the visiting vampire. While Jean had planned to keep a low profile for the rest of the day, the latest addendum to his agenda would make that virtually impossible. A known convicted runaway who had trouble with the law is surely going to be stopped and frisked, right? But surely his time as a law-abiding citizen in this town is enough to clear his slate. Surely, they'd leave him alone this time, right? These thoughts would ring in his head as he proceeded to pack his derringer in his inner breast pocket and travel to their arranged meeting location. Anything hungry for his flesh was going to get a side of lead served with it.</s>	<\|message\|>Oswald Krate Oswald watched as the carriage he arrived in leave. He then picked up his luggage and walked into a small, but comfortable looking hotel, on the main northern road of the North District, called the "Woodward Hotel". "Afternoon sir." Oswald greeted the man at the desk. On the inside, the hotel was quite comfortable, although still somewhat rugged. "Do you happen to have a room for one?" he asked the man. The man in turn barely spoke a word. He looked at his ledger, reached below the desk and pulled out a key with the room number embossed on it. "Thank you my good sir." Oswald simply said with a curtious nod. A man of few words it seems. he thought. His room was rather decently sized, despite the size of the hotel itself. He soon made himself comfortable, as he unpacked, and readied his gear so that he could begin work on his research. Looking out the window, Oswald remembered the snippets of information he'd obtained from the few folk whom came here. The city was apparently influenced by rival gangs, and there were also sightings of strange beasts and wandering spirits. But he had heard similar stories from the other locations he'd previously visited before, and they turned out to be nothing but stories. And so he was expecting the same here. He straigthened and readied himself, and then left the hotel to begin. Oswald took his time wandering the streets, and took in the sites. Whether it be the citizens going about their business, or the various shops or buildings he'd pass along the way. Every now and then, he would stop and make a note or two. Two hours later, Oswald obtained some information about trying the shanty towns if he wanted to learn some "real" history, as ghosts were alledgedly common there. Another fad no doubt, but he would entertain the idea anyway. The town apparently had its own museum, though it was rather small, and lacked anything worth noting. Next he made his way toward the city center, and visited the Seven Markets, noting the variety of its stalls, and the mixture of cultures found amongst them. He was impressed by the spread, especially given how obscure the city itself was. Wiping his brow with a sleeve, the heat starting to bother him, so Oswald found the closest place he could find to get a drink, "The House of Earthly Delights." Clearly an adult entertainment parlour. As long as they provide some comfort out of this weather, I do not care what it is. he thought to himself, and quickly made his way there.</s>
<\|description\|>Bonnie "Bo" Willard Age: Appears 21 Supernatural Race: Vampire Ethnicity/Race: Caucasian/Half Romanian Appearance: Vampire tattoo is on her back, in between her shoulder blades. Just breathes skater girl vibes. Personality: Bonnie is a tomboy from birth, cool-headed, always skatin', maybe steals something from the local 7/11. She's got that hipster teenage spirit. Bo is super friendly, talkative, a total extrovert, loves meeting new people and enjoys a good party. She might sound like the rowdy type at first, but she won't fight unless someone gets in her way, or hurts the people she cares about. She's a bit all talk and no bite at times (pun intended), but not for nothing, Bo won't hesitate to throw some fists with the other vampires in the area if it means she gets a meal. She's a bit lazy, doesn't like to do work, and certainly wouldn't go close to another educational system without a 10 foot pole. She's also not the sharpest needle in the haystack, any kind of theoretical or big question conversations go right over her head. History: Bonnie is a newly born vampire, and It's going okay. Well, she tries not to think about it for the most part. The whole, sucking people dry of their blood still feels immoral to her, but that insatiable hunger for human blood isn't so easily ignored. Bonnie was the youngest of 4 older brothers, and lived in Northern California for most of her life. From the start of her childhood she was always one of the boys, constantly going out to the skate park with her brothers, she hated her name for being so feminine and insisted on being called "Bo." Her mother's side of the family immigrated from Romania after the 2nd World War, and she never really got to know that side of the family. Her dad wasn't exactly the nicest person in the world, and would often force her mother to hide the Romanian culture from their kids. Almost ashamed of it in a way, there was a slightly bad reputation that came with it. Bonnie would never let that slide, however, and managed to get the folk stories out of her mom in secret. She eventually got kicked out by her parents for what they would describe as "lazy and irresponsible behavior." But she'll never admit to it. Bo would visit the skate park and stay late into the night, and that was where she met another mysterious skater. He was certainly vampiric looking, though she never really seemed to notice, and they hit it off, quickly becoming friends. Before she knew it, he had turned her into one of his own. Albeit, it was rather gruesome, and left her without a sire. She doesn't like to think about that night. Took her awhile to adjust to the idea that vampires actually existed. It's been about two years since she was turned, and she was still struggling with it. Strengths: Bonnie has the typical powers that come with the species such as enhanced strength, speed, senses, etc. She's also charismatic, independent, adaptable, overall chill gal, hype man extraordinaire. Weaknesses: She has the typical Vampire weaknesses. Sunlight doesn't kill it just badly burns her, wooden stakes will stun but not kill, silver, quite flammable, garlic doesn't do anything, religious imagery only if the user has faith. She's also lazy, unambitious and reckless. Doesn't seem to care much about the whole 'drinking peoples blood might kill them' thing, though It might be rooted in ignorance more than anything. Stance: Uncaring. Doesn't understand the war, and as far as she is concerned, would rather just skate. Special Power/Skill: Advanced Speed - In a blink of an eye, she can run from one place to another in a split second. Even faster when using a skateboard or other method of similar transportation. There's a sort of visible dark trail or dust that follows her whenever it happens. Wall Crawling - The power to fasten onto and climb vertical and horizontal surfaces without falling. Other: Pinterest Board - pinterest.com/sunrayee/bonnie-skater-… She enjoys playing pranks. Technically homeless, lives in an abandoned building in town. Blames everything on the asbestos.</s> <\|message\|>Call him Simon Peterson. Fae don't give out real names easily. Simon had, amidst all the... drama, frozen like a deer in the headlights. So Josip was pretty obviously a hunter and the other man - someone who he'd mostly heard called 'DarnDarn' but whose real name Simon believed was Darnies - was, for lack of better words, escalating the situation. Well, Josip technically escalated first, but regardless. Simon didn't really know what Darnies was - Simon always felt it impolite to ask, and didn't know the man well anyway - but clearly was ready to employ some dangerous magicks of some sort if the situation were to escalate further. Hell, he could feel the energy coming off the man from where he was standing.. The hunter likely wouldn't do anything rash - surely not with so many obvious enemies here? - but Simon felt like he had to intervene. "I-I'm sure my friend here realizes he should leave," Simon said. He heard his own voice skip on the first word and winced. First rule of the glamour - alway appear confident, and if possible, beconfident. He could feel the glamour weakening already - the hunter was clearly confident himself, suspicious of everyone here, and Simon had obviously tried to cover for a vampire. The glamour wasn't gone, but Simon would have to work to keep the man under his influence. Stepping out of the bar slowly, his hands up nonconfrontationally, he continued, "With so many of you in there and just us out here, what could he possibly do?" The wording was a risk - not the bit where he was outnumbered, which was obviously true, but the you and us parts. Simon was not on the Hunter's side and he was Fae, but not including himself with the supernaturals inside and instead with the hunter was meant to be a little more comforting for the man. Of course, if he saw the hypocrisy of the statement, he would likely become more suspicious, thus weakening the glamour more, but gambling wasn't about taking the safe choices. Taking another step towards the hunter, Simon added, "And besides, let's be honest - none of us want to cause a scene right now. It wouldn't end well for either side, really." Maybe not a guaranteed fact, but stating it like a fact could help the glamour convince the man that it was. Of course, the glamour wasn't just to convince the man of this at this point; it was to convince those in the bar as well. Simon was close enough that if the man did try anything he would likely be the closest target. Did Simon have anything to defend himself with? No. Had Simon killed men with his bare hands before? Yes, but it had been a long time, and he'd rather not pick up that particular sport again. Simon wasn't quite sure why he was defending the hunter. Killing him was technically the most straightforward way to ensure the bar and its patrons' identities were secure. On the other hand, hunters often worked in groups or at least kept in contact with other hunters. If this one went missing here, it was entirely possible that it would only bring more pressure. On the other hand, letting him leave alive would 100% bring pressure, so that wasn't really a valid reason. Simon had to be honest with himself; it was because he was Fae, and Fae are curious and arrogant. He could smell old Fae scents on the man, but judging by his speech and choice of target, plus the fact he evidently hadn't met many Fae since, he was likely a vampire hunter, not a fae one. How had this man - a hunter, known a Fae?</s> <\|message\|>~ Neirie (Neer-ee) Sothorett (Sothe-oh-Rhett) ~ Neirie ~ Although she had long ago forgotten what it felt like to breathe, she sucked in a sharp, right 'breath'. As the shocking feeling began to subside, she lingered her eyes over the young man and his lovely hulking 'friend'. As he faltered slightly and met her gaze she realized whatever kind of trap she had stumbled across was most likely of his creation. Thoughts flew around her mind as she wondered what in the world he could actually be, what the woman who guarded him so precariously was, whether them now knowing that she was an elder vampire was a terrible thing or not, and whether she should scatter like the young vampire girl in front of her was suggesting. All the while trying to keep the several other scents in the building that now assaulted her senses from overloading her brain. And then 'Josip' began to speak. Like the fingers of an ice elemental sliding down the marrow in one's bones, his words practically tore at her skin they were laced with such anger and disgust. Though he had no supernatural abilities so to speak, he appeared to have spent years honing his words and speech like a knife. Meant for those of her kind. If not for the cold set in her bones ages ago she may have actually shivered where she stood. Instead she held back a snarl by digging one fang into her bottom lip and without showing any outward movement, slid her batpack around to the front placing one hand on her bow handle. Her other hand, still out and in its sleeve, continued to feel the remnants of feeling like she had been practically electrocuted. She curled her finger open and closed, trying to shake away the feeling as nonchalant as possible. As Josip came towards the end of his judgement and accusations of the girl before them, it became more and more clear that he was in fact a man of the sort others called Hunters. Though he was getting towards the older side of age by humans standards, this man was far from weak, or naive. He had most likely been in this line of work for most of his life and likely had the scars to match the experiences. She wouldn't want to have him waiting for her in a dark alley somewhere unexpectedly... And She's an Elder Vampire. Not nearly as old or as powerful as those they call the First Bloods. Or even the few generations after known as the Ancients, or Ancient One's. Which she's always believed her master was fairly close to being. She would still feel uncomfortably meeting up with this human in any situation she want previously aware of. Her grip tightened around her bow as well as her other hand into a clenched fist. Though her attention, senses and guard were aimed towards Josip, her eyes stayed glued to the young man Neirie had heard his faithful bodyguard call "DarnDarn". Watching to see if her slightly sudden appearance, which had visually affected him, was an issue for him. She had come here on rumors of assistance. Talks of a Being that could make items to help her hunt down her Master. His true location. Not of that had practically gone stale. Someone who could provide aid or tools to help her against the monster. Could this boy truly be the one she'd traveled so far for? Though his scent was intense and intriguing, she could have sworn there was an ever so slight hint of human among it. Yet different. The fact that she couldn't pin point it was driving her almost mad. While also on her mind was that Josip had a fresh yet stale scent same as the elegant and vicious aroma coming from the 'Man' called Simon. She tilted her head ever so slightly as Simon began to seemingly defend Josip. Were they actually together? Was this fairly blatantly human man in cahoots with a supernatural? Is this how he was actually able to find the bar? How if he was actually a hunter could he let a supernatural live? And why on the earth would any supernatural willingly help him? Neirie actually blinked. This Josip had been fairly reserved when scaling the scene of the window break. Though he seemed to contemplate "DarnDarn" and his guardians visages, and seemed to be, if strangely, friendly with Simon. He didn't appear to become hostile until after noticing the young vampires sleeves and he became even more agitated once Neirie began defending her. As her glued eyes turned in almost slow motion to the man behind her, she peaked an ever so quick glimmer. He was a Vampire Hunter. And he most likely was there specifically for her. Perhaps not her alone. But any who might call her kind kin. Working with Simon or not, this man was dangerous and probably more than prepared for a fight. A fight meant to seriously injure or kill HER. Just as she was about to yank her bow into full size she felt that same electric feeling from before except it wasn't aimed towards herself, and it was a lot stronger. She snapped her eyes back to DarnDarn as he seemed to almost glow with a crackling green energy. As he began to speak Neirie could hear the power of several voices flow from his words. He senses were barraged once again with a multitude of his strange scent and she winced slightly at the mere force of it. Whether out of training or habit she instantly stepped in front of the girl with her feet spread apart and her bow drawn between her legs. She faced Josip and locked her full attention and guard on his scent and visage. If she didn't have to fight she wouldn't. But she was ready if need be and she at least knee better than to get close to that man.</s>	<\|message\|>Bonnie "Bo" Willard Bonnie couldn't take the silence and seriousness for too long. Watching everyone else react equally as seriously, the young vampire was bemused by the whole thing. She listened to the hunter's speech, her red eyes darting between the others who responded to it. That one dude seemed to start sparking, eyes turning green. The air just boiled with tension. A short pause ensued, the lack of noise was deafening and eerie. A confused expression on her face as the gothic woman stepped in front of her, Bo looked down at her sleeves again as the Hunter mentioned them with such vigor. What was his deal anyways? She had no idea, as far as she was aware he just had a bone to pick with everyone in the bar. She knew about Hunters, or at least heard about them in passing, but never encountered one herself. Bo had started to wonder if they were even a real thing. Luckily for her, she was just so oblivious to her past transgressions she had no clue how many times she narrowly missed getting herself killed. The girl was smart, for sure, but her carefree nature allowed for all sorts of shenanigans. Soon, a smile forms on her face. Bonnie bursts into a short fit of snorts and snickering, a sharp break to the silence. "Whatever, dude. You guys are like super fuckin' weird." She commented through her laughter, a hand raised up in correlation to her words while the other held her chest. Her beanie just barely peeking out from behind Neirie as she shoved her hands back in her pockets and started to walk towards the back door, the one she came out of. "I'm just gonna scram, bros. Too much fuckin' drama here, I swear." Bonnie commented. Clearly she had no recollection or understanding of how dangerous Vanja likely was. Though there were 3-4 other people around her who would likely step in if he tried anything, she didn't seem to care much for the theatrics. This would surely come to bite her in the ass later, unbeknownst to her.</s>
<\|description\|>ABIGAIL STENZ TWENTY-FIVE \| BASEBALL PLAYER \| TAURUS #e6ca30 // ASHLEY GREENE --- CHARACTERIZATION A native of Bainbridge Island, Abigail was born the daughter of a local banker and a real estate agent. As such, she was given a rather wealthy upbringing, with the Stenz family living in a gated waterfront community. Though Abigail didn't particularly care that her family was wealthy, preferring to hang out with practically anyone from school, there were rumors that she had asked her family to buy her a way into the male-dominated baseball teams, a sport she loved to play and watch, in their local district. In turn, her family became the subject of minor controversy in the local papers and around the diner table, but it wasn't long before the rumors were silenced. Leading her team to state as the team's star pitcher, Abigail personally proved her worth for everyone to see. Her performance had colleges across the country interested in acquiring her for their team, but Abigail chose to stay put in her hometown, instead making the decision to play for a local college and later the minor league "Bainbridge Saints". ---</s> <\|message\|>JACK ELLIOTT --- JACK ELLIOTT ROADSIDE BURGERS, BALTHAM LUNCH BREAK --- "Holy shit." "What?" Jake Elliott turned to his co-worker, Shaun Grant, with a curious look. Both of them were on their lunch break at the local fast-food restaurant. It was nearby the thrift store, and they were tired of being in there. Jake was eating his fries while trying to see what the hell Shaun was watching this time. Hopefully, it wasn't something stupid. He wasn't able to see much, but he did saw the part where the officer opened fire on the woman. In an instant, Jack turned away while Shaun shut off his phone and placed it down on the table. It was when he said "holy shit" again. "The fuck were you watching?!" Jake asked while throwing his fries away because he couldn't eat anymore after watching the video. "Well, my friends shared me this link about a nearby shooting. I just... didn't realize it was that bad." Shaun responded. Then, he went to cover his mouth. "I think I'm gonna throw up. Excuse me." Jake watched as his co-worker rushed towards the bathroom and then stared at the phone. His curiosity got the better of him when he took the phone and began to rewind the video. And once he got to a part that didn't look graphic, he resumed the video. Jake watched as the woman took a beating from a baton and then saw the officer reaching for his gun. That was when he paused the video and placed the phone back to its original spot. He didn't want to see someone getting shot again. But, that footage was bothering him a whole lot. Maybe it wasn't a big deal, he told himself. After a few minutes, Shaun came out of the bathroom refreshed as he went to grab his phone from the table. He looked at Jake and said, "It's time to go back. You ready?" "Yeah, let's go." Jake nodded and started making his way back to the thrift store. ---</s> <\|message\|>ABIGAIL STENZ A B I G A I L S T E N Z --- Location: Roadside Burgers, Baltham Date: August 14th, 2018 --- "Not sure how much more of this I can take." Abigail uttered out loud, sitting alone in her car outside Roadside Burgers; her only companion being the host on the radio. As much as she loved baseball, the last week had completely drained her energy and motivation. First, it was the rain delays over the weekend, forcing their scheduled match to be postponed to a later date. Then, it was the "potentially contagious illness" that spread like wildfire through her team, which promptly ended their season as the Saints were unfit to play. Everything seemed to be going to hell, and there was nothing she could do about it. Thankfully, at least for the time being, there was solace to be found in a good burger and fries. Her morning routine had caused her to work up an appetite, and it'd been some time since she had visited RB. The owners, who were practically honorary Saints for offerring free meals now and then to the team whenever they won a big match, had probably been wondering where she and the rest had been, anyway. Bzzt. Her phone buzzed as Abigail climbed out of her car and walked towards the burger joint. Pulling her phone from her pocket to read the notification, Abigail was quickly horrified as she read the words on the screen. OFFICER-INVOLVED SHOOTING IN RESIDENTIAL BALTHAM NEIGHBORHOOD Conner and Mia were... dead? The words were right in front of Abigail, and yet she struggled to process what she was reading. It couldn't have been real. She had heard of the bath salt epidemic that had gone around, but the dim-witted Conner and beauty queen Mia that Abigail went to high school with never were the type to do drugs. Well, okay, they might've smoked a little weed, but nearly every high schooler smoked weed, and as far as Abigail knew, it didn't cause you to go around eating people! "Yeah, let's go." A male voice spoke; one that Abigail would run into, distracted and distraught, sending her phone flying out of her hands and towards the ground.</s> <\|message\|>JACK ELLIOTT --- JACK ELLIOTT ROADSIDE BURGERS, BALTHAM LUNCH BREAK --- Oh great. Jake told himself after a woman crashed into him, nearly causing him to lose his balance. Unfortunately, her phone screen had a crack on it. Shaun immediately reached for it and nervously handed it back to the stranger. Jack rolled his eyes as his friend began to apologize for the accident. And then suddenly, a loud scream from the parking lot caught everyone's attention. It was a mother who was desperately trying to wake her child up. By the time Jake ran towards the scene, a crowd had formed to witness what was going on. Some of them were immediately calling for help, while others tried to assist in whatever way possible. Shane walked towards him and watched the scene unfold. "Should we help?" Jake thought about joining the crowd, but there were plenty of people on their phones. Plus, they had to get back to work pretty soon. So, he turned to his friend and responded, "I doubt we can't do anything that hasn't been done. Besides, I'm sure an ambulance is on its way." On their way, Jake walked passed the woman from earlier and glanced at her for a moment. He felt bad that her phone was damaged, but there wasn't anything he could do. And it wasn't his fault. Meanwhile, Shaun apologized once more before bidding farewell to the stranger. Both of them began making their way back to work when they noticed two police cars, with their sirens blaring, driving fast down the street. Jake felt that today was going to be a strange one. As they turned the corner of the street, the situation at the parking lot escalated. To the mother's relief, the child started breathing slowly. She resumed mouth-to-mouth while one of the owners of the restaurant returned with a first aid kit. Then, she let out a muffled scream as her child was biting his own mother. The crowd began to scream in horror while the owner and someone else tried to free her. It was strangely difficult, but she was eventually released. Her mouth was ruined entirely, leaving left her unable to do anything besides letting out muffled screams. Meanwhile, the child was being held down by two strangers as they were attempting to calm him down. Past that, no one really seemed to notice what was going on. The rest of the city continued with its bustling routine. ---</s>	<\|message\|>ABIGAIL STENZ A B I G A I L S T E N Z --- Location: Roadside Burgers, Baltham Date: August 14th, 2018 --- "Oh, no. Don't worry, it's... it's no big deal." Abigail replied, taking her now cracked phone back from the man. She knew that she couldn't hold his acquaintance at fault for her phone being damaged; it was her that walked into him, not the opposite way around. "I just have a lot going on, and I wasn't looking where I was going..." She trailed off, interrupted by a womanly scream that captured everyone's attention, hers included. Following the two men towards the crowd, Abigail was once again shocked by what she saw. Before it had been the death of old friends, and now, the life of a child was at risk. Was today but a nightmare? Abigail thought about calling 911, but one of the men had a point; surely help had to be on its way to the diner with everyone calling for medical assistance. It'd be redundant for her to call for an ambulance too, even if her phone could still dial numbers with the damage that had just been done to the screen. Still, Abigail felt that she couldn't walk away so easily like the two men were doing once the other apologized to her once again for the damage. There had to be something she could do, although Abigail hadn't expected that that something would be a nightmare in its own right. As the child's breathing returned, something awoke in the boy—a hunger for flesh, seemingly. His teeth latched on his mother's face, shocking everyone as they watched with horrified expression. The only one not frozen in shock was the veteran-turned-restaurant owner, Ray Williams, who quickly leapt into action, grabbing one of the woman's arms as he desperately tried to free her from the child's grasp to no avail. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Abigail cursed. Her instincts told her to flee; to run from the horrific scene she had been witnessing. But nonetheless, she knew that she couldn't be a coward; not while the boy continued to eat away at his mother's face. Rushing to the other side of the woman, she mustered what strength she had to help Ray, and pulled her free from the latch the child had on her face, while others began to snap back to their senses, trying to hold down the child in an attempt to calm him down. Although they had been successful in freeing the woman from the child, however, her face had been manged to the point that even the slightest glimpse made Abigail extremely queasy. "I-I think I'm going to be—" She spoke, holding a hand over her stomach and a fist before her mouth. There was no stopping this, Abigail knew, as she launched her appetite all over the pavement.</s>
<\|description\|>Ursa Cooper Age: 26 Picture: Race: Martian Homeworld: Mars Homegalaxy:Milky Way Skills: Ursa is smart, well read, inventive and street savvy. She isn't a strong talker, but when she works out a plan or strategy it usually is foolproof. Aside from her personal traits, she has incredibly proficient aim when it comes to shooting. Whether it be a bow and arrow or a gun, she is a great shot. She also is an impeccable pilot who is very familiar with hyperspace lanes, hidden spaceports, and mapping out deep space. Bio: Ursa was born on Mars in the small town of Clint under Maria and Edgar Cooper. Edgar was a Mecha-engineer for an intergalactic space agency called 'Brixton Weaponry.' Maria was a local nurse and med-tec. For a time they lived a usual life until Ursa turned seven and came home to find her parents gone, their clothes and close belongings missing as well. After a week of being alone, a neighbor came over and Ursa was put into the foster care system, moving to different planets until she was 14 where she ran away from her foster parents and snuck aboard a ship, hoping to get dropped off on a spaceport. She was caught though, by an old smuggler by the name of Jerry Wilkins. For the next couple years, she was taken on as a young apprentice/crewmate and learned how to smuggle, shoot and steal. Four years later Jerry gave one of his ships and a crew to Ursa and with that she took off becoming one of the largest smugglers in the underworld, smuggling millions of dollars, food, resources and people through the different planets all while escaping the authorities who have set a bounty for 10,000,000 kredits. Personality: Awkward. Ursa talks way too often, usually as a means to get herself out of a jam. Whilst on her ship you wouldn't peg her as the captain but rather a deck hand or crew mate because she usually has her head stuck in a book. Most people undermine or underestimate her due to her look and quirky personality but she understands people very well and has a habit of saying what is exactly on her mind whether it be rude or ignorant. She also has her own code for life. She doesn't like killing people or fighting, but she will if necessary, and she also doesn't see anything wrong with stealing. If you kill someone you are too stupid to think of another option and if you are going to steal, you have to be smart enough to get away with it. Weaponry: Ursa carries two beautiful Beretta's Specifically Beretta 92FS Inox "9mm Sword Cutlass". She mostly uses them for intimidation but if necessary she has introduced her girl's to a few unlucky people who dared to cross her or get in her way. Other: She has a few homes on various space outposts and her number one ship is the S.S. Ranger named after the ship of her favorite pirate. Charles Vane. Theme song: Theme Song</s> <\|message\|>Xael [Zay-Uhl] Niahm [Knee-Am] Phobos was extremely busy and crowded, due to the Convention of United Planets. Xael wandered about, looking at each of the stalls. She was looking for something very specific, though nothing had caught her eye quite yet. Each vendor would nod or wink at her, trying to arouse her interest in their wares. She simply shrugged them off when nothing caught her attention. She let out a gentle sigh, and carried on down the side walk, pushing passed and between people who payed little to no attention to her. As the time carried on, it began to rain, and Xael tugged her baggy sweater around her a little closer, but tilted her head up to the sky just slightly enough to let the rain land on her pale skin. She loved the freshness of it, and walked with her eyes closed until she came across a bar that she visited often. Not so much for the drink, but the atmosphere. It was mysterious and exciting, and she loved to watch the people. As she stepped into the bar, which was called Club Cyanide, she made her way to the very familiar corner booth. Smoke billowed out around Xael's ankles when she opened the door as if to welcome her home. It was strange that she liked this place, because to any other person, or creature or alien, she might seem too innocent for such a place. But she liked it none the less.</s> <\|message\|>Orion Steiner The crowd of overly aggressive marines looked out of place in the upscale lounge and Oriion felt he should have picked a private booth to meet instead of one with a view of the entrance but he knew he had to watch his back now on Phobos. "The Rulons sure as hell didnt expect the Timberwolf cresting the hill to interrupt their little chemical weapons deal" Orion thought, figuring for sure theyd be sending another hit squad or care package again. He began to think how he should return the favour when one of the unruly marines bumped into his shoulder knocking Orions Sazerrac to the floor. "Watch it you royal ass" said the marine in a drunken stupor as he laughed and pointed out what happened to his buddies. Hurriedly a young waitress rushed over to take care of the issue while Orion ignored the obvious 2 day leave given to this mouth breather who in his infinite wisdom decided to fill his few fleeting moments with alcohol. The waitress came over but unfortunately slipped on the wet floor in her hurry. The marines laughed even louder. Seeing the waitress in obvious pain and near tears Orion put down his now empty cocktail glass and reached down to assist her in getting up. "It's OK miss, we will just move to a private booth and you can serve us away from these cowboys. He whispered and calmy helped her up off the floor. If you could point me to the furthest one and come to us when youve had a moment of rest. I'm in no hurry.. She smiled acknowledging his kindness "Thank you and I'll get you another Sazerrac sir. as she rushed to the back to hide the tears and embarrasment. Orion began to turn around when he got caught by a sucker punch to the side of his jaw. The marine had decided to escalate the situation. Orion reeled almost losing his balance and staggered back. The Marine yelled "C'mon you blue blood, I'll wipe the floor with you.. Orion stood ready for his rush but told the marine You've got one chance to relax devil dog; go find another place to waste your leave.. This just infuriated the marine and his buddies who were now gathering behind him. As the marines faces all became flushed with anger Orion understanding the situation slid back his cloak and pressed a button on his lapel. A huge figure appeared from the shadow of the booth and pushed through the marines to grab the instigator by the shoulder. A.C.E (Automated Cybernetic Enhanced) was a 7 foot robot who looked as big as he was powerful with a large chest armoured in cobalt titanium giving off an almost blueish purple hue in the light. The marine swung his fist around to connect with the would be adversary and smashed it directly on ACE's chest. The sound of his knuckles smashing could be heard over the silence that had developed during the outbreak. The marine screamed out in agony and doubled over in pain as ACE squeezed his shoulder hard enough to bring the marine to his knees. The other marines stood in awe while the bouncers finally arrived to disperse the fight. Once everything had calmed down and the battered marine had finally relented; Orion said "That's enough ACE, Im sure his days of fingerbanging old sally rottencrotch are over. Release. No Factor stated ACE in a semi robotic tone as he released the marine. Once the commotion had died down and the drunkards dismissed from the lounge the waitress came over with the drink. "This is on the house tonight and thank you once again, Sir. Don't worry about it Orion said I just hope youre alright.. She stammered "Those were the 8th Fusiliers. They just got back from a huge invasion. Its all over the news if you havent seen. I was kinda worried you were going to get hurt but I see your buddy came in pretty handy tonight. Orion patted ACE, chuckled, and said Yeah he has his benefits except hes not the best with sparring. By the way here is something for your troubles.. Orion hands her a C-Note. Oh my god she says Thank you so much, if there is anything you need just tap the ruby button on the compad and I'll be here as fast as i can.. Orion stopped her just before leaving Before you go there is one thing you can do for me. I'm waiting for a some people that most definitely will stick out like a sore thumb. Can you make sure that they are shown their way here?. Absolutely she said. Oh and dear? Orion said. Yes? the waitress responded. Could you find it in your heart to possibly fit old ACE here in the back?</s>	<\|message\|>Ursa Cooper Club Cyanide was a small club in the downtown area of Phobos, it was a hub for some of the criminal elite in the area and a place the locals were kind enough to avoid most nights. This evening the area was only mildly crowded with a few lost tourists chatting here and there. The bar itself was dark with simple cocktail lamps and green velvet couches. Imported wood and black leather built most of the bar, giving it a warm pub feeling. Ursa was sat in the back, her Treo's Pizza hat turned backward to keep her hair out of her face. A half-drunk beer lay on the table whilst a cigarette and a book occupied her hands. She kept it just partly covering her face as she read over the newest book on Economic Physics in the Ragon Galaxy by Prof. Gix Moolson. She could have opened the book on her watch but, she didn't like virtual reading. Her preference for real paper over a hologram made a vintage book collectors dream. Most physical copies of books were expensive and the masses were extinct. Aside from the physical book though, Ursa looked like a scrub. Her hair was combed but hung loose around her shoulders, her jeans were dirty, her sneakers used to be white and her jacket was clearly old and worn. She had tattoos and light makeup that she put on in case any Draconians came by, but otherwise, she looked like a poor college kid. She flipped the page, as she waited for her friend to arrive. Much to Mac and Takashi's dismay, she had decided to remain at this spaceport for at least another night as they headed towards one of her security warehouses with their newly collected loot. She loved her ship and crew but at times she needed room to breathe, collect her thoughts, and try to enjoy the small victories. Plus with Celebrimbor phoning to get a drink, she couldn't exactly say no. The Yakuza were a deadly force and she had aided them on multiple occasions to smuggle bodies or drugs across the galaxy. She had also helped there enemies with the same aid, but she kept that to herself. She wasn't biased when it came to who she worked for it was all just business. That's probably why she got along with Celebrimbor, they both had their own code of ethics and respected it. She took a drag of her cigarette feeling a shift in the room. She peered over her book seeing a young woman enter the bar. Men seemed to turn to stare at the innocent-looking girl who moved almost like a dancer towards a corner booth. Ursa smirked giving the young woman koodo's for coming to this dump by herself. Brave woman. She tapped off her cigarette into an incinerator tray and returned to her book, sinking back into the darkness of her booth to remain as inconspicuous as she could. Suddenly her attention moved to a few drunken marines and a young man who she could only partially see through the crowd. She sighed her attention keeping to the book, not surprised that a rowdy crowd was present tonight. She took a swig of beer, trying to get comfy, as she waited for her friend, hoping that the chaos would be small tonight.</s>
<\|description\|>Ursa Cooper Age: 26 Picture: Race: Martian Homeworld: Mars Homegalaxy:Milky Way Skills: Ursa is smart, well read, inventive and street savvy. She isn't a strong talker, but when she works out a plan or strategy it usually is foolproof. Aside from her personal traits, she has incredibly proficient aim when it comes to shooting. Whether it be a bow and arrow or a gun, she is a great shot. She also is an impeccable pilot who is very familiar with hyperspace lanes, hidden spaceports, and mapping out deep space. Bio: Ursa was born on Mars in the small town of Clint under Maria and Edgar Cooper. Edgar was a Mecha-engineer for an intergalactic space agency called 'Brixton Weaponry.' Maria was a local nurse and med-tec. For a time they lived a usual life until Ursa turned seven and came home to find her parents gone, their clothes and close belongings missing as well. After a week of being alone, a neighbor came over and Ursa was put into the foster care system, moving to different planets until she was 14 where she ran away from her foster parents and snuck aboard a ship, hoping to get dropped off on a spaceport. She was caught though, by an old smuggler by the name of Jerry Wilkins. For the next couple years, she was taken on as a young apprentice/crewmate and learned how to smuggle, shoot and steal. Four years later Jerry gave one of his ships and a crew to Ursa and with that she took off becoming one of the largest smugglers in the underworld, smuggling millions of dollars, food, resources and people through the different planets all while escaping the authorities who have set a bounty for 10,000,000 kredits. Personality: Awkward. Ursa talks way too often, usually as a means to get herself out of a jam. Whilst on her ship you wouldn't peg her as the captain but rather a deck hand or crew mate because she usually has her head stuck in a book. Most people undermine or underestimate her due to her look and quirky personality but she understands people very well and has a habit of saying what is exactly on her mind whether it be rude or ignorant. She also has her own code for life. She doesn't like killing people or fighting, but she will if necessary, and she also doesn't see anything wrong with stealing. If you kill someone you are too stupid to think of another option and if you are going to steal, you have to be smart enough to get away with it. Weaponry: Ursa carries two beautiful Beretta's Specifically Beretta 92FS Inox "9mm Sword Cutlass". She mostly uses them for intimidation but if necessary she has introduced her girl's to a few unlucky people who dared to cross her or get in her way. Other: She has a few homes on various space outposts and her number one ship is the S.S. Ranger named after the ship of her favorite pirate. Charles Vane. Theme song: Theme Song</s> <\|message\|>Ursa Cooper Ursa followed along behind the group with a shrug as they chased after the new woman. She moved quickly past people and blasts that created an elevated amount of chaos around her, keeping behind Cel as she watched the other two intently. She looked up at the sky, wondering why anyone would want to take out Phobos? She slammed into a young woman falling to the ground in a painful tangle. After a few moments, she swore whilst the other young woman gave her a glare and ran off. Ursa rubbed at her bruised nose, placing the woman's vid com and virtual wallet in her pocket for later. As they reached the port, Ursa looked at the ship solemnly, but never one to be pessimistic she hoped on, giving Cel a look before she watched as the new man and his robot went to work. She heard him and immediately jumped in, moving to stand by the young woman "Oi Jackass! It moves, and she's kind enough to let us use her vehicle, the least you could do is give her a fucking thanks. ACTUALLY I COULD USE ONE TO FOR SAVING YOUR ASS SHITHEAD!" She shook her head, her opinion of this new man falling regardless of how attractive he was. She glared at him before she turned to the young woman with a smile, "I'm sorry about his manners. He is right though. We will have to switch vehicles if we want to survive the traffic and the blast strikes. I promise you will be compensated for any damage, generously. I'm good for it. You cool if I drive?" She didn't even really give her a chance to answer moving into the pilot's seat before she began to press some buttons and pull back some levers. The vessel hummed on, the jets getting ready to burn when she yelled at them, "Thanks. Seatbelts Kids!" She cracked her neck, her eyes narrowing as she grabbed the handles, getting a good grip before she pressed forward, the ship lifting off. A blast went off to the left of them and Ursa yanked hard to the left, avoiding it as best she could as she pressed forward, lifting up into the air, her eyes zoning in on the camera screen as she burst forward quickly but with not enough speed to blow the engine. She darted around vehicles in the setup air roads high above the city, as she yelled over her shoulder, "Yo Senator Mcfucknuts. You want to tell me where your ship is, or Cel do you have something closer?" She dipped, barely dodging a rogue ship that was hit by another blast on the way out, "Jesus! WHO THE FUCK WOULD GO AFTER PHOBOS!!"</s> <\|message\|>Celebrimbor Sasaki Celebrimbor watched as his surroundings melted in chaos. Everyone was running in all directions, meteors crashing into everything. One man pushed Cel out of his way as he ran into the crowd then almost instantly splattered all over the pavement from getting hit by one of the smaller rocks flying through the sky. This new girl that Cel had pushed out of the way earlier was leading the other two to her ship apparently so he decided to follow. Ursa had hit someone and fell down to the ground. Cel was going to help her up but, she had picked herself up before he was able to reach her. People were dropping like flies all around him. The screams filled the air. Cel tried to contact some of the Yakuza members but with no luck. After not being able to reach Garth, Cel sent out a mass message to all surviving members while he was running. "This is a message to all surviving members of the Strarvis family. If there's anyone left out there, vacate the planet immediately. If you are able to get off then meet at my ship the Star Platinum. I wish all of you luck and help anyone you can." There was more that he wanted to say but the adrenaline was pumping to fast. It wasn't long before the four of them reached the ship yard. A large ship with the name HMS Eternal on the side, rested on the runway. From the look of it the ship was impressive but, seeing as the world was ending, he also wanted to get his ship out of orbit. Once they all boarded the ship, Orion plugged his mech into the ships database. This didn't really intrest Cel right now and so he just ignored him until Orion started yelling about no Hyperdrive. This information did shock Cel a bit but, he figured that must have a been an error. It was almost impossible for there to not be one. The mech must have had a malfunction or something. The girls started to get angry at Orion at this point too. Celebrimbor didn't want to listen to the bickering so he started to look around until he found the washroom in the ship. He closed the door then looked in the mirror. His hair was all kinds of messed up now with kind of annoyed him. Though something did catch his eye while he was looking. A long black strand of hair ran down the front of his face. "Not now please. I still haven't mastered this power yet. Now would not be a good time to finish this transformation." He spoke to himself as if he was giving himself a pep talk. After a few seconds his hair went back to normal and Cel pulled out a brush from his jacket pocket and started to fix his hair. Once done, he walked back to find Ursa walking to the cockpit. He followed then sat in the copilot seat. "Hey if we get out of this alive I think we should threaten Orion for more money. This is bullshit and those meteors didn't seem normal. I think he knows more then he's letting on." He got up as the other girl walked in and gave her the seat. Before she sat down he grabbed her hand and bowed slightly. "I would like to formally apologize to you for throwing you out of my way. There's no excuse for doing that andI hope that you can forgive me." He stood up straight then saw the blood on her head. "I can fix that up for you if you would like. Make it just like new." He winked then started to walk off to find Orion. Before exiting the cockpit though, he turned around again to speak to Ursa. "Oh by the way, we need to stop by my ship. Some of the Yakuza might have made it there with some civilians and I want them to follow us in case of an attack. If Orion has an issue with it then he can find a new ride." He Looked at the new girl and nodded then left the room.</s> <\|message\|>Xael [Zay-Uhl] Niahm [Knee-Am] "Do you all actually think we have fucking time to stop by all of your ships!? The planet is fucking being destroyed you dickweeds!" Xael growled, the sound echoing through the cockpit as she sat down after Cel moved from the chair. She tried to ignore the other guy's comments. Obviously his little robot buddy didn't know shit because Xael's ship was one of the best live in ships from her planet. Sure, maybe it wasn't built for war, but that wasn't what she was about. Either way, it pissed her off, and her eyes flashed a bright blue before returning to the normal blue. "I can fix that up for you if you would like. Make it just like new." Cel said, offering to heal the wound at the back of her head. She would need to shower to get the blood out of her hair, and figured if he could fix the problem, she might as well let him, despite being annoyed. "Sure, I guess. In the meantime, you can explain to me about your mob boss conversation while we get to safety."</s> <\|message\|>Orion Steiner Orion brought up a picture of docking bay November. Well, what used to be it. The bay was completely obliterated and as to be expected, no interceptor. "Damn" cursed Orion slamming his fist on ACE. ACE jolted from the shock of his steel fist resetting to ensure his system would remain running without any bugs. The screen tripped and what must have been a firewall was bypassed on the ships screen. Nice trick. Wonder what else is hidden behind here. He thought better as the last thing he needed was to tell that girl what she didn't want to hear or see and I'm sure she wouldn't want him snooping so he pulled ACE out and directed him to find a place and to enter standby mode. "Relax blue eyes, it must have been this rust bucket over here, I'll get him to fix that up when he can" proclaimed Orion. "Anyways my ships toast so there's no need to be concerned however before we start making plans maybe we better figure out what the hell is going on out there cause I ain't got a clue."</s>	<\|message\|>Ursa Cooper Ursa turned to Cel after he came back from fixing his hair, her focus clearly on keeping the ship from getting blown to bits or hit. She listened to his thoughts and nodded, "Oh I don't doubt that. Someone wants him dead and on top of this evacuation, it all seems a bit coincidental." She geared right, the ship shaking slightly as she moved her focus from Cel to the sky 'road.' She heard Cel's request and turned around quickly, "Oh right away your majesty. You just sit there looking pretty." She smirked at the new girl's comment, pulling up as they narrowly missed a Raxer 900 superspeeder. She grumbled turning back to hit a few buttons, "Thankyou..Let's just see if we get out of here with this ship intact then we can see about getting your vessel. Okay?" She turned to Orion as he brought up an image of the newly destroyed bay. Ursa ignored Orion's rage at Ace her thoughts moving to the port beneath her. Beside the bay was an orphanage called Red Tides. She knew of it because the kids there she would use to help her catch intel for the Draconians. Phobos was a rough place to live, but the kids didn't know any better. And now they never will.. She let out a soft breath, narrowing her eyes as she looked at the sky, hearing Orion's wish to find out what's happening, "I think it's about time we find out. I'm done with this crowd." She hit the gas and shot up, breaking out of the traffic to sore through the skies up towards the airlock. Ahead of them large cruisers and smaller personal space yachts were scattered, heading for the airlock as they tried to dodge large blasts. Ursa stayed calm, rolling back and forth as she twisted through spaces just big enough for her vehicle, to push through. Suddenly a blast came to the upper pocket and she was pushed to the left slamming into a deep grey spacecraft. It flew back hitting two more vehicles as they fell back to the blackened Phobos. Ursa pulled back grunting as she tried to regain control. She went against the current, barely hitting another speeder before pulling back. Moving again through the cracks before finally, she could see the entryway. She plowed through her eyes narrowing as she swore, "The blasts are aimed. They aren't random...They are trying to shoot civilians?!" She looked around at the cruisers that seemed big enough to take enough damage. She rolled past a Draconian styled yacht, and shot up towards the other side of a cruiser, leaving a very narrow space of escape. It would allow them to clear the air-lock and keep them out of range of the blasts, but it would be close. She knew that if they missed they would be dead, either crushed by the cruiser or smashed into the edge or another spacecraft. She smirked, letting anyone see the intention on her face. One of both wild abandon and delusion, before she sang out quickly an old earth song by Kansas, "CARRY ON MY WAYWARD SON, THERE WILL BE PEACE WHEN YOU ARE DONE! LAY YOUR WEARY HEAD TO REST!!! DON'T YOU CRY NO MORE!! HOLD ON!" She floored it, a cry of fearless abandon escaping her, as she lost herself in her own personal melody. She kicked the ship into high gear as the air in the craft pulled whatever wasn't nailed down across the room. She clenched the controls hard, her hat flying off of her head as she wrenched the craft a hard left as it rolled around facing Phobos. Moving backward, she swung it up into a vertical angle, her hair flying downwards as they slid just narrowly past the cruiser, and the airlock. She hit the controls to prep the vehicle for space travel and set her right side up, moving up the edge of the cruiser before she slowed, hoping to stay behind it as they came to see what was shooting them. Ursa let out a breath and turned to look at her companions, whom to her seemed a bit disheveled with the ships drastic twists, "Made it." She smiled wide as if she didn't just almost kill them before she turned back to the screen, pressing a button so that the windows were open to open space just as they began to slowly see what was shooting Phobos. Her eyes grew wide as she tried to understand what she was seeing, "What type of ship is that???"</s>
<\|description\|>Celebrimbor Sasaki Age: Appears 28 Race: Chatilian Home Planet: Strarvis DUV, Galaxy Sagitta Aegimius Skills: To be roleplayed Hobbies: Enjoys reading, Blacksmithing, Going out to bars Job: Strarvis Yakuza Rank: Lieutenant of the Strokath Family Likes: A good drink, working with fire, keeping fashionable Dislikes: Tbr Appearance:</s> <\|message\|>Celebrimbor Sasaki Cel winked at the girl before leaving to find a seat. "Once we're out of this mess I'll clean you up and make that better. I'll do my best to explain any questions you may have for me." He smiled at her then left. In the next room he found a spot to sit and buckle up. Knowing Ursa, she was going to fly like crazy. He held on tight as She flew them out of Phobos and into the atmosphere. Hell still raining down On the ground below. Cel has been in some shit before but nothing like this. Who would go this far to find one person? Right now that didn't matter. All he could think about was if anyone was going to make it and how he was going to threaten Orion. That man knew something and Celebrimbor knew that he did, otherwise there wouldn't have been a bullet shot at him. The craft tossed around as Ursa was dodging out of the way and with this, Cel's hair got all messed up again. "Why do I even try?" He groaned to himself as his hair waved around like crazy. "Maybe I'll just chop it all off." He thought to himself then instantly laughed "Yeah fuck that." He laughed some more as the ship started to slow down as it reached space. Cel could hear Ursa's what was that and came running. He didn't even have to ask when he saw the massive ship raining hell on the planet. This was it, he had to have answers and now. Cel Spun around to find Orion and drag him to the cockpit. It didn't take long for Cel long to find him, for he was basically where he was before. "You. Come with me now. He spoke deeply, sounding very irritated and pissed. He lead Orion to where Ursa was. "If you want to go any farther, you will explain to me what that is and why the hell it is after you.</s> <\|message\|>Orion Steiner Dragged up to the cockpit Orion looked up through the perspex glass in astonishment. "It can't be, that's impossible!" Eclipsed by Saturn and looming ominous like a demon backlit by flames was a space fortress of monstrous proportions. Gothic in architecture the fortress' midsection was slowly rotating clockwise while the upper and lower sections were rotating in the opposite direction to compensate for the loss of gravity in space. A ship of that size simply could not have enough gravimetric pods to safely create artificial gravity like capital ships could. Large bursts of flame erupted from 4 long apertures in the midsection which rained down upon the moon of Phobos' primary Colony station. Other bright flashes of light erupted as capital guns fired in addition with an engaged Phobos Fleet. Popping on the fortress' surface on what looked like a rippling bubble was the return fire from the fleet. Splashes of purple and green in what seemed an attack of such insignificance. "I will crush you as if you were but an ant under my thumb" thought Orion. ACE cut through the silence in response to Celebrimbors accusatory remarks with a cold explanation. "A planetary station originally designed for protection and interstellar trade, Nimbus Point One or NP1 was once an experimental hub designed for the Valorians stationed off the Gates of Auriga. An attack by Rulons with the intent as a first and last strike measure decimated a large portion of the Valorian fleet who were charged with protecting the station. Caught off guard and outgunned the Valorians fought a defensive battle but attrition took its toll. Time was desperately needed to stave off combined attacks on the station. Unknown to most people the station had many experimental weapons and even were testing Dark Void technology." Orion interrupted visibly shaken "In an effort to try to salvage lives and technology the Admiral of the station shifted orbit to shield what little was left of the fleet. Several of the larger ships who were transporting civilians used the stations experimental Dark Void and disappeared. I had a hand in designing some of the weapons and even drew up a rough sketch of a rotating payload delivery system to get dropships on planet surfaces faster and safer." He paused and whispered "Is evil something you are? or something you do?". Raising his voice "It cant be though. Those initial drawings were on the Sagittarius and that ship disappeared into the void and that station was destroyed!" Slamming his fist on the control panel, sadness giving rise to anger "and my sister gave her life to make sure of that!" Eyes watering from a flashback of his sisters mayday message hanging in his head Orion looked away from the party and out onto the maelstrom in front of him. "I don't know what else to say." Composed he looked back towards Celebrimbor intently. "I don't believe it would be after me? It makes no sense. Nothing does. Did you see the round that sniper used? A flechette round. Whoever wanted me dead also wanted my body found and wanted me to be recognized, publicly displayed but perhaps by someone with motive not to show me disfigured. Not a simple blow the back of my head off dirty kill. This was meticulous and this was calculated. It just doesn't make sense someone would go to the trouble and then order an orbital bombardment. No, this must be something else. That ship shouldn't even exist. Those weapons seem designed for an assault on the colony station itself." He paused hoping Cel would let his statement sink in before reacting he mentioned to ACE "Can you identify the ships name or callsign?" Orion stabilized himself as Ursa rocked the ship back towards Phobos in an effort to dodge a civilian Caravelle, its cockpit shattered and bodies floating into space; the moon appeared to be cracking from the continuous concussive force from the fortresses main guns. The colony station was in flames and few ships were coming out of the makeshift atmosphere anymore. In space, the ship was avoiding debris from all manner of destroyed imperial and private ships alike. Swarms of coordinated strikes seemed to be occurring on larger vessels, even ones that obviously had no defensive weapons and were purely civilian. The military channels were a cacophony of chatter, screams and calls for help went unanswered. Phobos was no more. The moon seemed to shudder before seemingly expunging a 1/3 of it's surface in opposite directions with light appearing from Saturn through the moons broken core. In the quiet moments that followed while the members looked out in awe at such a destructive force , blue light rippled from the massive station outwards. It flowed like a phosphorescent wake creating darkness where once there was light. Ships in the distance their drives burning bright turned to black and appeared to lose control. Using the shipboard computers ACE quickly scanned the behemoth "Class unidentified...technology unidentified...weapons unidentified...name identified...origin identified...previous location unidentified...presence of a gravimetric well increasing...". The wave got closer as some ships initiated their hyperdrives and escaped to long distant places. Orion cut ACE off before he could finish "Shut it down! Shut it all down now or were all dead!" Schematic</s> <\|message\|>Xael [Zay-Uhl] Niahm [Knee-Am] Xael glanced at Ursa, who was expertly controlling her vessel. She was weaving in and out of spaces between other ships, rubble and people. She felt safe and despite not knowing this person from any universe, she was going to put her trust in her. They needed to get into hyperdrive as quickly as possible, but unfortunately that came with risks since there were new people around. Usually Xael never flew with others so it never mattered until this moment. But, it was her identity or their lives. She furrowed her brow slightly and moved to stand in front of Ursa. Xael was short enough that if she bent her knees, Ursa would be able to see over her. Xael breathed in deeply and stared at the dashboard. She reached out, pressing some tiny buttons that were almost invisible to anyone else. After inputting the sequence, a little thin piece of metal popped up from a hidden compartment. It was in the shape of a T and along the top held two small black holes. It held two tiny eye scanners. Xaels appearance shifted then. But if you blinked you wouldn't have noticed. The mechanism scanned her eyes and retreated back to it hiding place. Within a few seconds the hyperdrive was activated, and Xael shifted out of the way again, watching Cel drag Orion toward the cockpit, asking him to explain. While Xael was listening, her mouth dropped open slightly in shock and she for a moment couldn't believe what type of people she had gotten herself involved in. Shaking her head, she turned to Orion. "Well, if you created the blueprint for this ship, you must know it's weak spots? What can we do besides escape? Is there anything we can do? We have to do something!"</s> <\|message\|>Ursa Cooper The ship in front of them was something she had never witnessed before. It was a beast, with a functionality that both entranced and disturbed her. She jumped slightly, creating some space when Xael came to stand in front of her, touching the dash to bring out a hidden compartment that she assumed was part of the security feature. She watched the girl quietly, her eyebrows raising in question. She opened her mouth, about to ask the girl what she just saw when she noted the Hyperdrive was loaded and ready to go. She dodged a large piece of a broken cruiser, when her thoughts were interrupted by Cel and Orion's discussion. She eyed Xael giving her a, "I saw that…" look before she returned back to the massive ship in front of her, wondering who would design this terror. Her answer came from Orion and she turned to look up at him, only briefly before she eyed the small futile battle in front of her. ACE explained further about the station, and her eyes widened. Valorians, Dark Void technology! Who the hell was this guy?? She turned back to her job, the ship veering to the right, as she tried to focus on what Orion was saying. Despite the way she treated him early, she could tell his memories were painful, and his sadness touched her. She looked up at him quietly as he gazed at the maelstrom, not knowing what to say to comfort him. She pondered as to why she would want to when he explained that the man sent to kill him probably wasn't in coalition with this behemoth. She was about to comment on all this information when suddenly another ship swung towards them, She narrowly swung out of the way, gripping the handles tightly as she headed back towards Phobos. She charged through the carnage of space, expertly dodging heavy debris and strike shots. She could hear the harrowing calls for help and the screams of innocent civilians who just hours before were just laughing in the market place. A ship to the left of them blew up, bodies floating into space, those that weren't killed by the blast gasped for oxygen that they could not find. Ursa reared to the right, not willing to let herself be overcome by the carnage, as she had passengers with her. She was waiting for just the right moment to use the hyperdrive when suddenly a loud eruption exploded beneath her and the ship swung out. She grit her teeth, digging in her feet as she tried to retain control, "COME ON!!" She gained some leverage and swung back, noting something was wrong. It took her a minute to realize what it was. It was the silence. No more calls for help or orders to the fleet, because Phobos was gone. She stared forward, their ship surrounded by the remains of destroyed ships. She looked at it all with a torn expression not even realizing a tear had fallen down her cheek, as the chaos erupted around her. Suddenly a deep blue light erupted from the behemoth, and Ursa watched in horror as this wave hit many of the remaining ship's Drives cutting them off before her. This wasn't an act of war. This was a complete genocide. Annihilation to completion. Innocents destroyed so quickly and efficiently. She stared at the behemoth as if it had a new face. One showing an evil that she had never seen firsthand, and she had seen some dark hells in her own past. Her shock was broken by ACE in the background when suddenly Orion's voice hit her like a hammer. She followed his command, reacting quickly as she slammed back the control lever powering off the vessel instantly as all the lights and energy in the ship turned off. The wave only feet from the ship now. They were far enough from Phobos' atmosphere that they wouldn't fall but the gravity in the room was also canceled. Ursa rose slightly off her seat but was held down by her seatbelts. She glared at the ship in front of her, as she responded to Xael, "We can't do anything to it in this, and I don't think we have much time, before they realize that we are still alive. They clearly don't want any survivors and I don't plan on dying today. So.. Handso..I mean Orion, tell me when I can hyperdrive out of here..." She wiped her cheek, her emotions locked down as she turned down the ship's thermostat the air inside the ship turning colder by the minute. Just in case they were scanning for bodies, the cold would help to block their heat signatures. It wasn't a fast method but with that machine as big as it was, she figured its range was split into different quadrants which would make readings a smaller percentage, "That might help if they are tracking for life forms. Try to keep your breaths short and soft."</s>	<\|message\|>Celebrimbor Sasaki As much as Cel knew the kind of pain Orion was feeling, he had a bit of a hard time feeling bad for him in this moment. The Behemoth in front of them was destroying everything in its path. It still shocked him that anyone could build something like this and he had seen some pretty scary shit in the past. In that moment though, Cel felt a cool brush of air behind him. He spun around to see if someone else was on the ship with them but nothing was there. He then felt pressure on his right arm but, same as before, no one was touching him. Cel shook his head. "Get a grip Cel. You've seen death before." He thought to himself thinking it was just nerves, but the feeling of someone being around him wouldn't go away. As he turned around to look back at the death machine, Phobos exploded into nothing. Ships where blowing up from the force and rubble of the now destroyed moon. Everything he had known and loved was gone. Ursa had shut down the ship as Orion yelled. They were suspended in space, watching the carnage unfold around them. Cel had to look away. There was no hope for anyone else out there unless they got lucky like the four of them did. "Seeing as we're going to be stuck here for a while, we might as well get better acquainted." He mostly said that to get everyone's attention away from the horror outside. He looked at the new girl and shook her hand properly. "I'm Celebrimbor, but you can cal me Cel for short. Makes it easier." He smiled then kissed her hand. He already knew who Ursa was, given probably not aswell as he'd liked. She worked for him before and had a relatively good relationship with her, but there was probably a lot that he didn't know about her. As for Orion.... He didn't want to know him.</s>
<\|description\|>Celebrimbor Sasaki Age: Appears 28 Race: Chatilian Home Planet: Strarvis DUV, Galaxy Sagitta Aegimius Skills: To be roleplayed Hobbies: Enjoys reading, Blacksmithing, Going out to bars Job: Strarvis Yakuza Rank: Lieutenant of the Strokath Family Likes: A good drink, working with fire, keeping fashionable Dislikes: Tbr Appearance:</s> <\|message\|>Celebrimbor Sasaki As much as Cel knew the kind of pain Orion was feeling, he had a bit of a hard time feeling bad for him in this moment. The Behemoth in front of them was destroying everything in its path. It still shocked him that anyone could build something like this and he had seen some pretty scary shit in the past. In that moment though, Cel felt a cool brush of air behind him. He spun around to see if someone else was on the ship with them but nothing was there. He then felt pressure on his right arm but, same as before, no one was touching him. Cel shook his head. "Get a grip Cel. You've seen death before." He thought to himself thinking it was just nerves, but the feeling of someone being around him wouldn't go away. As he turned around to look back at the death machine, Phobos exploded into nothing. Ships where blowing up from the force and rubble of the now destroyed moon. Everything he had known and loved was gone. Ursa had shut down the ship as Orion yelled. They were suspended in space, watching the carnage unfold around them. Cel had to look away. There was no hope for anyone else out there unless they got lucky like the four of them did. "Seeing as we're going to be stuck here for a while, we might as well get better acquainted." He mostly said that to get everyone's attention away from the horror outside. He looked at the new girl and shook her hand properly. "I'm Celebrimbor, but you can cal me Cel for short. Makes it easier." He smiled then kissed her hand. He already knew who Ursa was, given probably not aswell as he'd liked. She worked for him before and had a relatively good relationship with her, but there was probably a lot that he didn't know about her. As for Orion.... He didn't want to know him.</s> <\|message\|>Orion Steiner "That's a good question" stated Orion "Ursa, is it?". Ursa nodded an affirmative while maintaining her facial expression. Orion could see the breath begin to form from the loss in temperature and as a kind gesture offered his coat to Ursa. "It's going to get colder and you might want this For the time being.". He paused "Now we would have to ask the missus over here about the hyperdrive." Orion turned towards Xael. "Forgive my intrusions but I am most appreciative of you risking to travel with us particularly without knowing who or what we were. Formal introductions would be prudent concerning the state we are in." Orion thought for a moment and looked back towards Ursa who had that old familiar look and Drifted his gaze to the black monstrosity outside the cockpit. "Officially I am Star Colonel Orion Cassius Steiner of the 21st Centauri Lancers. Prince to the Valorian Hedgemony. I was a student under Anastasius Focht of the Maskirovka before our world Valera erupted into full scale war with the Rulons again. I feel compelled to be honest with you all. I have been trying to secure the funds and back channel support for Valora. We are at a stalemate and have been fighting a losing war. I sequestered Celebrimbors services for transport to my dropship. We all seem to have come together by pure coincidence. Gladly I thank you all for putting any differences aside to emerge from this horror unscathed." He extended the olive branch "This is your ship. I am at your mercy. I would prefer and I would pay you in kind if you would take me to my dropship, however if you want to go to another system, I can find an alternate way to get back". Celebrimbor Looked up in dismay most likely perturbed by Orion's choice to offer an alternative that did not coincide with him getting his deal so Orion mentioned "Don't worry Cel, our deal still stands and in light of the circumstances I'm sure we can come to another arrangement that works for both of us." Orion turned back to the control panel pushing himself off of a stagnate ACE, his magnetics keeping him attached to the deck in near zero g. "Just curious". He motioned to Xael "How long would it take for your systemS to be back. Without a doubt whomever they are will be sending out scout fighters to finish the job". He turned back to Ursa draping his jacket over her and the chair. "That was some nifty flying, you didn't learn that all from simple shoot an scoots. You've been places and by the look on your face Wherever it was left a scar. The eyes don't lie." He stared at her for a moment looking past the emotional barricade she was putting up. He'd seen that look every time he looked in a mirror. "Now once we get this up and running is there anything I can do to assist?" ............autonomous computerized entity boot sequence initiated. ............Diagnostic recovery in progress. ............Sensors Initiating. ............................... ............uplink to Master override complete. ............Fission startup initiated. ........................3...2...1. Autonomous systems activated. Weapon Systems Nominal. Life Support Systems Nominal. All Systems Nominal. Searching.................... Status Operation Nova Redoubt .... pending Status Operation Vigilance ... pending Status Operation Nimbus Point 1 ... Complete. Files Secured. Status Sagittarius ... unknown Status Valora ... unknown ...unable to update Unable to locate Signal 224. Unable to locate Signal 418. Commencing secondary startup and tertiary systems. Memory purge, systems incomplete. Beginning tertiary diagnostics and memory defrag...</s> <\|message\|>Ursa Cooper As the temperature dropped, Ursa brought her hands up to her mouth, trying to warm them slightly as she shivered. Orion walked over and she turned to look at him, giving him a nod when he mentioned her name. She was about to reject the offer of his coat in protest of her pride when he paused turning to Xael. Ursa listened in to Orion's introduction, taking in the information with a newfound interest. She knew about the war on Valera through her boss Jerry. That sector was run by Yuri's crew, and he was probably providing the Rulon's with ex-grade munitions to fight the Valorian's, or aiding the Valorians in the same manner. Hell, the bastard was probably doing runs for both. She didn't know and she was glad that she could honestly say she knew nothing about it. Would be messy if Orion found out her compatriot was batting for the other team. She turned away looking out at the carnage before her as she tried to deduce a pathway out of here. The loss of both Phobos and the innocent lives that settled there would haunt her. She was lucky to be alive. They all were. She turned to look at Xael with a tough reassuring smile, "Don't worry about the fighters, Dollface. I've never lost a client or a vessel in my entire career and I don't intend to anytime soon. Just in case we die though, I also want to thank you for letting us use your vessel. I'm Ursa Cooper by the way!" She shivered again her hands shaking slightly on the handles when a jacket was draped over her and the chair. She looked up at Orion, wishing her hat didn't fly off earlier as she felt slightly exposed. She gave him a cool look, one she used to keep most men at arms length when he spoke. She felt the urge to look away, not liking that he seemed to be able to look right through her. Her yellow eyes didn't waver though, and even though she seemed to keep her control, she was slightly rattled. She felt the sudden urge to be honest, and to let him see the pain she carried. Perhaps it was because she could see he had it to as he said visible in his own eyes. She didn't trust him though, she could already tell by her attitude with him that she was playing with fire. Secrets were her livelihood and the less anyone knew about her the better. So she closed up and the brief moment of truth was replaced with a mischievous smirk, her thick titanium walls closing to him as she responded lightly in a teasing drawl, "Thanks, cowboy. I bet you say that to all the pretty girls. And uh..thanks for the coat." She gave him a too-wide smile as she put it on the right way, her hands shaky as she pulled it tight around her. Humor was a defense mechanism she used often, and even with the sadness just below the surface, she felt it necessary to use it now. She was already feeling warmer as she turned to watch the big behemoth, move slowly away from the destroyed remains of Phobos. She could see from a distance the release of scouting ships, with four to five heading in their direction. She swore, "Shit..." She then looked up at Orion at his request to help and turned to Xael, "That depends on the weapon system this ship is equipped with. Dollface, we have got five bogies coming this way, and the temperature drop will only hide us for so long. I'm assuming the big boy needs time to recharge that wave before it hits again so if we want to hyperdrive we need to do it soon. It will take too long to give me full access so you will have to man the drive." She turned to Ace who seemed to be spewing out commands/system checks too fast for her to comprehend, "Is uh..he okay? Seems like he has a few wires loose?"</s> <\|message\|>Xael [Zay-Uhl] Niahm [Knee-Am] Xael didn't seem to be bothered by the drop in temperature and simply watched Ursa's face as she navigated the ship. It would probably take 3-7 minutes to reboot the ship depending, though most times it never got to the 7 minute mark. "I'm Xael. It's too bad this circumstance was how we'd meet. And it should take under 7 minutes to reboot. My ship is equipped with shield barricades and a small laser, which is mostly used for getting rid of small space rocks in my way. I've never had to use it for battle before. I will say though, I'm not the fighting type. So if escaping is the best option, I vote for that. I can control the drive if that's what's needed." Xael looked at the spot on her hand in which Cel had kissed and a soft, pinkish hue shifted across her cheeks momentarily. She tried to ignore the look Ursa gave her though. "We can go any place you all want or need to. I don't have anywhere to be."</s>	<\|message\|>Celebrimbor Sasaki Cel watched out the window as the scouting ships left the behemoth. If they found them, there would be some trouble seeing as the ship didn't have any defenses. "Whatever we do we need to figure it out quick. Those ships aren't going to just sit there and wait for us to make up our minds. As soon as possible we need to get those shields up for protection while we wait for the rest of the ship to boot up. Once we are capable of it too we need to get someone on the laser. It won't do anything to those ships, but it will scare them a bit to give us more time. Right now we have the element of surprise on our side. I know we're all a little shaken up from what we just saw, but we need to get our asses out of here. Orion, I need to you tell me everything you can about that monster out there..." Right as Cel was about to say more, he started to feel an excruciating pain stab his head. The cold grip on his arm started to flow throughout his body which caused him to start shaking violently. The ship was already cold from the shut down, but this was like something he had never felt before. He could see the others looking at him in a concerned way. There was already to much going on for him to be getting sick now. Before any of them could say anything he turned around and left for the bathroom again. "If you'll excuse me. I need to deal with something." He said as he quickly fled the cockpit. The chill in his body got worse as Cel was making his way to the bathroom. It was almost as if he was incased in ice then shoved into the depths of space. Once in the bathroom, Cel leaned over the toilet and vometed everywhere. This occurred three more times before he felt fine enough to stand up and clen himself off. He looked in the mirror and laughed a bit. "At least it didn't get in my hair." He ran his hands through the blond locks and noticed there were more black strands popping up. As he looked through more of his hair, he could see some of it change color. "What the fuck is going on with you?" He spoke quietly to himself. This was strange since this only ever happened when he felt stressed and even then it wasn't to this extent. As he looked closer, Cel could see a slight shimmer behind him in the mirror as if some one was using an invisibility mod. Cel spun around quickly and punched where the shimmer appeared, but nothing was there. Just air. He then turned back around to look in the mirror and the shimmer was still there. Something slowly started to materialize into a gold like color behind him. It almost looked humanoid. This freaked out Cel and he quickly splashed hot water on his face. Instantly the freezing feeling stopped and the shimmer was gone. "Stupid nerves. Pull yourself together Cel." He slapped himself, flushed the toilet, then walked back to the cockpit. His hair still slowly turning black, but this was the least of his worries. If he was seeing things then there could be something major wrong with him. Either that or he was overly scared, which would just piss him off. As Cel walked back into the cockpit, the others looked at him again. Ignoring their stares, Cel looked back outside to see what was happening. "So what's the plan then? Are we going to do what I said or do we have a better plan?"</s>
<\|description\|>Celebrimbor Sasaki Age: Appears 28 Race: Chatilian Home Planet: Strarvis DUV, Galaxy Sagitta Aegimius Skills: To be roleplayed Hobbies: Enjoys reading, Blacksmithing, Going out to bars Job: Strarvis Yakuza Rank: Lieutenant of the Strokath Family Likes: A good drink, working with fire, keeping fashionable Dislikes: Tbr Appearance:</s> <\|message\|>Celebrimbor Sasaki Cel sat down behind Xael and ran his hand through his hair. It seemed like it was still turning black. He sighed then buckled in. "Don't worry about it. When I find out what's going on you'll be the first to know." He winked at her then tightened the belt, knowing how crazy Ursa would be driving. The cold embraced his arm again, slowly moving up his arm again, but stopping at his shoulder. "Just fuck off." He muttered to himself. Ursa started up the ship and started playing her music as they flew through the void, dodging everything that came at them. Seeing what Orion and Xael where doing, Cel got up when he had a moment to breath and took off for the lasers and shield. He heard Ursa call for him and Orion to hop on the laser. "I'm way ahead of you!" He hollered back. Once he found the controls, Cel felt more comfortable. "Now this is what I like!" He pulled up the focus and started to aim. Blasting everything that came their way. One after another, ship by ship, he was hitting. The laser wasn't strong enough to destroy any of the ships, but it was enough to disable. Normally at this speed he would miss a few times, but each shot was hitting its mark. Almost as if something was guiding his hand. The cold creeped up his other arm again stopping at his shoulders. Out of nowhere though, the stars started to shoot buy faster and faster. "They must have gotten the hyperdrive going. I should go check on the others again and make sure everyone's okay." Cel stood up and started to make his way back to the cockpit, but his legs started to give out on him. The shiver returned and the cold started to engulf his whole body again. "What.... is happening to me." he studdered then fell to his knees. He looked at his hands then at the glass in front of him. Though it wasn't much, he could see the reflection of himself and the gold figure behind him. It was taking more of a form. It looked humanoid but also Alien. Cel only caught a glimpse of the figure before the rest of his body gave out and fell to the floor. His vision blurred but before he passed out, he could see the faint figure of someone. Maybe someone real. "Damn it." Cel grunted before passing out.</s> <\|message\|>Ursa Cooper The large plasma cloud that Orion pointed to made Ursa squirm, her voice slightly scratchy, "Probably could get through it, but the ship doesn't need the extra damage." With Orion putting in some coordinates and setting the ship to autopilot Ursa changed the temperature back to normal before she stood up, stretching slightly. She rubbed her neck, "I suppose I can take first watch..I am still burning off some energy from the chase." She watched as Orion took off with Ace and walked over to her hat turning it around so that she could push her bangs out of her face before she looked over at Xael, "Thanks for the directions, and the ship. I know having us bums join you probably wasn't what you were planning today." She gave the girl a once over, wanting to mention what happened earlier with her eyes when she figured she should go check on Cel. He was her friend after all and he seemed to be struggling with something physically. She pointed to the door, "I'm just gonna go check on long locks. Want to keep an eye out for a few minutes." At Xael's response she smiled walking towards the hallway connecting the cockpit to the weapons station, "Cel? You all..CEL?" She looked over to see Cel with thick black hair and a gold alien-like shimmering just near him. She pulled out one of her guns and narrowed her eyes, "GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HIM JACKASS! You don't know me but I can promise you I am one hell of a good shot. So unless you want one between the eyes. I suggest to you. STEP. BACK." She was deadly serious, and the creature seemed to take her warning honestly before it leaned down slowly towards Cel. She prepared to shoot it as it prepared to strike her but instead it began to fuse into Cels form. She watched in silence before it disappeared inside her friend, "What the f.." As soon as it was gone she re-sheathed her weapon and ran to Cel falling to her knees as she rolled him onto his back pushing his hair out of his face, and leaning his head back so she could feel for a breath, "You better not be dead...you little. Oh, thank Cthulu." She put her ear to his chest, sighing when she heard a heartbeat. She sat up resting a hand on her knee as she looked over him, leaning down to tap his cheek, "Cel?? Handsome?? If you wake up now I'll show ya my jugs??" Cel would probably be over the moon for that or at least disturbed by her use of the word jugs, but he didn't seem to hear her, meaning he was completely out of it. She pulled off Orion's jacket and placed it under his head as she stood up moving back towards the cockpit. She called out to Xael, "Hey Xael? Uh.. Cel is passed out in the hallway, and I think, mind you not being dead sober, that a gold alien being just was vacuumed into his body. Do you have a med bay or can you help him? I'm worried.." She motioned the girl over, looking down at Cel as she placed her head on his forehead to feel his temperature, "He feels cold, but that may be because of the temperature." She didn't lie to Xael she was worried. She didn't love Cel like a brother, but as criminal relationships go, they had a solid one. She didn't want to see him hurt. She looked over at Xael, "I'm gonna go let Orion know what's happened. Just in case we have another stowaway hiding on here. Can you stay with him? Okay..I'll be right back." She headed down the hallway, unsure where to go when she heard some music. She followed it, pausing as the voice of a woman could be heard inside. She was about to interrupt when she realized it was a recording. She waited until the second song played before she came in, walking over to find Orion about to fall asleep, "Yo...Sexy pants. Sorry to ruin your sleep but Cel just fell unconscious and an alien-looking motherfucker just leeched into him. I don't know if there are more of them on this ship, but I figured I should tell you. Xael's with him now but I don't know if she has any med skills?"</s> <\|message\|>Xael [Zay-Uhl] Niahm [Knee-Am] "Sure I'll keep an eye. He's probably just being dramatic about that his hair is turning black or something..." Xael smiled to herself slightly, relaxing once the ship seemed to shift to autopilot and also began to warm up. The warmth was comforting despite she didn't really need it for survival. She reached down, her long slender fingers unbuckling the harness which was holding her into her seat. Her eyes flashed across the dash, ensuring the artificial gravity was activated as well. Once she felt everything was fine, she leaned back slightly, watching the galaxies around them as the ship made it's way to Orion's ship likewise. It seemed like only a few seconds had passed before Ursa was called for Xael to come see Cel, stating he was passed out in the hall. Xael's brow furrowed and she got up, and continued toward Ursa as she kept speaking. She had said she thought a weird golden alien had been vacuumed into Cel's body. Xael's eyes shifted to a slight sideways glance, feeling confused and unsure about what Ursa was really talking about. "I'm not sure what you mean by a golden alien? Like... someone else was here? Or was it just... like... a fuzzy image? Could you have imagined it?" She waited for Ursa to respond, and when she did, Xael chewed her lower lip. After a few moments of Xael looking at Cel passed out, Ursa said she was going to tell Orion, and got up to leave. This left Xael and Cel alone, despite his unconscious state. She knelt down next to him and leaned in, listening to breathing. She assumed though by how Ursa was reacting, that he was alive. Warm breath caressed her cheek so she leaned back up again to look him over. Nothing seemed to be wrong on his body. No injured she could see flat out, he looked a bit pale, but was regardless of trauma or not. Again, her brow furrowed together. She figured she would try to wake him up again while she waited for Ursa to come back. "Cel...?" She said gently, reaching out to grip both of his arms just below to the shoulder, and shook him carefully. "There's something we need to talk to you about. You should probably open your eyes..." While waiting for him to give any type of response, Xael stood up and shifted toward a wall of cabinets a few feet away. She opened up a tall skinny one, pulling out a heating blanket and some cleansed water. She shut the cabinet door and returned to kneel next to him. First, she propped him up carefully against the wall into a seated position, put the blanket over top of him, and then opened up the water. With the water cylinder open, she poured some into the palm of her hand and wet Cel's face slightly. She then leaned back on her heels and watched him again.</s>	<\|message\|>Celebrimbor Sasaki As his vision went black, a new picture started to appear. It almost looked like it was back home on Phobos. His house full of people. Everyone he had once known, alive again. "What is going on here? I though this place was destroyed?" Cel walked around and checked every room. His bedroom was clean with the bed made and ready for himself and maybe a lucky lady. Cel laughed to himself then sat on the bed. "It's been awhile since I've brought anyone back to this room. To busy nowadays. Thought Ursa would end up in here last time we finished a mission together." He looked around again then sat in his blue reading chair. "That would have made things weird between us. Plus I hate sleeping around now anyways. If I'm with someone I'm going to make it special." Cel closed his eyes and took a deep breath in. The air was salty and the sounds around him changed. He was now sitting on a lawn chair on the beaches of earth. "How did I get here? What is happening?" Cel stood up, and watched as his feet sank into the sand a bit. The feeling was warm and grainy, but it still felt nice. He walked down to the water and waded around for a bit. The water was cold but refreshing. The air around wisped through his hair. Birds flew all over trying to dive and catch a fish or crabs. Out of the corner of his eye, Cel could see Ursa, Xael, and Orion playing in the water. They waved and beckoned him to come closer and play. "This is very strange. Am I dead?" He though to himself then started to make his way closer to the others. "Whatever it is, I think I like it here. No stress, no blown up world, no strange golden... think standing behind me." Right as he was about to reach him, Cel could faintly hear someone's voice. "Cel?? Handsome?? If you wake up now I'll show ya my jugs??" Only someone like Ursa would say that to him, but it wasn't the Ursa that was standing in front of him. This voice came from the sky. "Ursa don't be so vulgar. I don't need to see your breasts." He thought for a bit about the voice. It was strange that it came from the sky. Was he asleep? He couldn't remember much that happened before waking up at his house. In a quick flash though, the setting changed from the lovely beach to a desolated field. The grass and trees around him were on fire except fot one large one standing in the middle of the field. Standing right in front of it was the golden alien like creature he saw before. Cel took a fighting stance, ready to attack at any moment. "Who are you and what do you want!?" He yelled at the creature. It turned around and just looked at him blankly. In the fire light, Cel could see most of what this thing looked like. From head to toe the creature was covered in gold with the exception for a few spots that looked to have purple. On the shoulder, the creature had what looked to be metal wings coming from it. The creature didn't move at all and just stared at Cel. He couldn't see any threat in it and started to walk closer. Still no movement as Cel approached slowly. As he got closer though, he could see a small engraving on the tree. The fire around them roared as he inched closer and closer to the tree. The golden creature turned as Cel passed it to look at the markings. "Golden Experience." Cel spoke the words slowly, hearing both words trying to understand them. "What the hell is Golden Experience?" He looked back up at the creature. "Is that what your name is? Golden Experience?" The creature shimmered as Cel spoke the words then disappeared quickly, only to reappear behind him. "What the..?" Cel was very confused but there was no time to think. An explosion went off right in front of them, and three even stranger creatures started running right at Cel. In no time, Cel and taken stance, ready to fight to the death. The creature behind him took the same exact stance. This surprised him, but it didn't matter right now. The attackers were right ontop of them. Cel was ready to strike as the first monster lunged at him, but instead of Cel making the punch, Golden Experience struck first. "Muda!" It said as it landed the first punch, skyrocketing the monster 20ft in the air. There was a splat as it landed and the other two monsters cowered a bit. It wasn't long though before they started to charge. Golden experience took one of them and started to punch relentlessly. "Muda! Muda! Muda! Muda!" It said over and over again as it decimated the creature. The other came straight for Cel which he in turn punched as hard as he could. He landed a couple good hits before creature hightailed it out of there. The fire started to die down as the time passed by. Cel looked at his hands and they were covered in blood from the few hits he landed. He the looked up at Golden Experience and smiled. "So you're on my side then?" no response. "Well I can't keep calling you Golden Experience because that's uuuhhh, that's a mouth full. So I guess I can call you my stand? Since you know, you stand behind me? Fuck it I don't know we'll figure it out." As Cel was talking, another voice came from the sky. "Cel...? There's something we need to talk to you about. You should probably open your eyes..." It sounded like Xael. The stand then disappeared into Cel and a flash of light happened. Cel shot straight up with a gasp. Xael was standing next to him. He seemed to be in some sort of medical bay. "What the hell happened. My head is pounding." He looked around for Ursa, but she wasn't there. "I just had the strangest dream. You guys were there and then there was this golden creature.. I think I called it Golden Experience? I don't know it was strange." He looked at Xael who seemed to be confused. "Where's Ursa? I need to tell her something. Plus she owes me something as well."</s>
<\|description\|>Xael [Zay-Uhl] Niahm [Knee-Am] Age: Appears 22 Race: Appears human Home Planet: Theonia Z17, Galaxy Theon Skills: To be roleplayed Hobbies: People watching, dancing in the rain, going to plays/operas. Job: To be roleplayed Rank: N/A Likes: Fall, rain and thunderstorms, blue and silver, animals, coffee and wine. Dislikes: Tbr Appearance: Other: Backstory: To be roleplayed</s> <\|message\|>Orion Steiner The crowd of overly aggressive marines looked out of place in the upscale lounge and Oriion felt he should have picked a private booth to meet instead of one with a view of the entrance but he knew he had to watch his back now on Phobos. "The Rulons sure as hell didnt expect the Timberwolf cresting the hill to interrupt their little chemical weapons deal" Orion thought, figuring for sure theyd be sending another hit squad or care package again. He began to think how he should return the favour when one of the unruly marines bumped into his shoulder knocking Orions Sazerrac to the floor. "Watch it you royal ass" said the marine in a drunken stupor as he laughed and pointed out what happened to his buddies. Hurriedly a young waitress rushed over to take care of the issue while Orion ignored the obvious 2 day leave given to this mouth breather who in his infinite wisdom decided to fill his few fleeting moments with alcohol. The waitress came over but unfortunately slipped on the wet floor in her hurry. The marines laughed even louder. Seeing the waitress in obvious pain and near tears Orion put down his now empty cocktail glass and reached down to assist her in getting up. "It's OK miss, we will just move to a private booth and you can serve us away from these cowboys. He whispered and calmy helped her up off the floor. If you could point me to the furthest one and come to us when youve had a moment of rest. I'm in no hurry.. She smiled acknowledging his kindness "Thank you and I'll get you another Sazerrac sir. as she rushed to the back to hide the tears and embarrasment. Orion began to turn around when he got caught by a sucker punch to the side of his jaw. The marine had decided to escalate the situation. Orion reeled almost losing his balance and staggered back. The Marine yelled "C'mon you blue blood, I'll wipe the floor with you.. Orion stood ready for his rush but told the marine You've got one chance to relax devil dog; go find another place to waste your leave.. This just infuriated the marine and his buddies who were now gathering behind him. As the marines faces all became flushed with anger Orion understanding the situation slid back his cloak and pressed a button on his lapel. A huge figure appeared from the shadow of the booth and pushed through the marines to grab the instigator by the shoulder. A.C.E (Automated Cybernetic Enhanced) was a 7 foot robot who looked as big as he was powerful with a large chest armoured in cobalt titanium giving off an almost blueish purple hue in the light. The marine swung his fist around to connect with the would be adversary and smashed it directly on ACE's chest. The sound of his knuckles smashing could be heard over the silence that had developed during the outbreak. The marine screamed out in agony and doubled over in pain as ACE squeezed his shoulder hard enough to bring the marine to his knees. The other marines stood in awe while the bouncers finally arrived to disperse the fight. Once everything had calmed down and the battered marine had finally relented; Orion said "That's enough ACE, Im sure his days of fingerbanging old sally rottencrotch are over. Release. No Factor stated ACE in a semi robotic tone as he released the marine. Once the commotion had died down and the drunkards dismissed from the lounge the waitress came over with the drink. "This is on the house tonight and thank you once again, Sir. Don't worry about it Orion said I just hope youre alright.. She stammered "Those were the 8th Fusiliers. They just got back from a huge invasion. Its all over the news if you havent seen. I was kinda worried you were going to get hurt but I see your buddy came in pretty handy tonight. Orion patted ACE, chuckled, and said Yeah he has his benefits except hes not the best with sparring. By the way here is something for your troubles.. Orion hands her a C-Note. Oh my god she says Thank you so much, if there is anything you need just tap the ruby button on the compad and I'll be here as fast as i can.. Orion stopped her just before leaving Before you go there is one thing you can do for me. I'm waiting for a some people that most definitely will stick out like a sore thumb. Can you make sure that they are shown their way here?. Absolutely she said. Oh and dear? Orion said. Yes? the waitress responded. Could you find it in your heart to possibly fit old ACE here in the back?</s> <\|message\|>Ursa Cooper Club Cyanide was a small club in the downtown area of Phobos, it was a hub for some of the criminal elite in the area and a place the locals were kind enough to avoid most nights. This evening the area was only mildly crowded with a few lost tourists chatting here and there. The bar itself was dark with simple cocktail lamps and green velvet couches. Imported wood and black leather built most of the bar, giving it a warm pub feeling. Ursa was sat in the back, her Treo's Pizza hat turned backward to keep her hair out of her face. A half-drunk beer lay on the table whilst a cigarette and a book occupied her hands. She kept it just partly covering her face as she read over the newest book on Economic Physics in the Ragon Galaxy by Prof. Gix Moolson. She could have opened the book on her watch but, she didn't like virtual reading. Her preference for real paper over a hologram made a vintage book collectors dream. Most physical copies of books were expensive and the masses were extinct. Aside from the physical book though, Ursa looked like a scrub. Her hair was combed but hung loose around her shoulders, her jeans were dirty, her sneakers used to be white and her jacket was clearly old and worn. She had tattoos and light makeup that she put on in case any Draconians came by, but otherwise, she looked like a poor college kid. She flipped the page, as she waited for her friend to arrive. Much to Mac and Takashi's dismay, she had decided to remain at this spaceport for at least another night as they headed towards one of her security warehouses with their newly collected loot. She loved her ship and crew but at times she needed room to breathe, collect her thoughts, and try to enjoy the small victories. Plus with Celebrimbor phoning to get a drink, she couldn't exactly say no. The Yakuza were a deadly force and she had aided them on multiple occasions to smuggle bodies or drugs across the galaxy. She had also helped there enemies with the same aid, but she kept that to herself. She wasn't biased when it came to who she worked for it was all just business. That's probably why she got along with Celebrimbor, they both had their own code of ethics and respected it. She took a drag of her cigarette feeling a shift in the room. She peered over her book seeing a young woman enter the bar. Men seemed to turn to stare at the innocent-looking girl who moved almost like a dancer towards a corner booth. Ursa smirked giving the young woman koodo's for coming to this dump by herself. Brave woman. She tapped off her cigarette into an incinerator tray and returned to her book, sinking back into the darkness of her booth to remain as inconspicuous as she could. Suddenly her attention moved to a few drunken marines and a young man who she could only partially see through the crowd. She sighed her attention keeping to the book, not surprised that a rowdy crowd was present tonight. She took a swig of beer, trying to get comfy, as she waited for her friend, hoping that the chaos would be small tonight.</s> <\|message\|>Celebrimbor Sasaki The travel to club Cyanide took a little longer then expected. The town was busy as hell and everyone was trying to get somewhere. Once he finally arrived, Celebrimbor strolled into the bar ready to drink. It didn't take long for him to realize that he missed a fight. Some marines where quickly making their way past everyone and out the door. They seemed a little roughed up but, nothing compared to what normally happens here. Before sitting down, Celebrimbor looked around to see what kind of people where around for the night. Many different races and species as per usual, nothing out of the ordinary. A few people did catch his eye though. One woman who was sitting in a corner booth Who he'd never seen before and then a man in a bomber jacket heading to a private room. This raised his brow a little. Only people who really go back there are usually about to make an illegal deal. Normally that would be his place to step in and lay down the law but, tonight the only law he was going to lay down was the shots. Once done looking around, Celebrimbor found Ursa pretty fast. Wasn't to hard to spot the woman when she dressed like an unfortunate soul. This made him laugh a little since he's always offered to help her out though she keeps refusing him. Cel walked over and took a seat next to Ursa. Still running around in rags I see. Celebrimbor smirked then ordered the two of them some drinks. Hey I appreciate you coming out tonight with me. Putting our jobs aside, you're one of the only friends I have outside of the Yakuza I can talk to. The waitress came back with the drinks. Three shots of the law, which contained 3 different types of alcohol, and One scotch on the rocks. An earth drink he discovered on a trip a few years back. I'm sure you're wondering why I called you out of the blue like that. Well... Cel slammed back his three shots and then the scotch. Astrik was murdered tonight by woman who clams he forced himself on her. It didn't really surprise me all to much since he was hammered off his ass. I could smell it the moment I walked in. Well anyways, the rest of the family wants me to take over but I'm not to sure I'd want that position at all. If you recall, I told you once that I wanted to leave the family. As the two of them where talking, a young drunk man walked over to the table and placed a gun down on it. Celebrimbor just looked up at the man, already unimpressed. Excuse me sir I'm trying to have a private conversation with my friend here. The man just laughed and the club went silent. You Yakuza are always hogging the whores around here. How about giving this one up to one of us? The man slurred his words and turned towards his buddy's and started to laugh with them. He obviously didn't understand what it meant to talk down to a Yakuza like that. Especially one of Celebrimbors stature. Look buddy I don't want to cause a scene, so I'd appreciate it if you apologized to my friend here before things get ugly. He could see Ursa start to reach for her guns. Celebrimbor didn't like guns all that much. To the Yakuza they were a cowards weapon. Fists or swords where more his style but could work with anything. The man, though, just laughed harder with his buddy's and took another drink. What're you gonna do big ma... And before he could finish his sentence, Cel had punched him square in the jaw. Dropping the man to the floor. His friends quickly stood up ready to fight. Cel cracked his knuckles and stood up as well. This really isn't the night you want to do this. I got this Ursa. You just enjoy your book. The men just growled at Cel then leapt right at him. There was four of them so nothing that would even break a sweat. Cels first punch landed right in the gut then the other in another mans nose. A crack a could be heard from the second mans face. The third man made right swing for Cels face which Cel promptly stepped back for. He then pulled the third man close to him by the scruff of the neck, then slammed him into the ground. The fourth man cowered a bit as he watched his friends get pummelled in seconds. He then dropped to the ground and started to beg for forgiveness, apologizing for his other friends. Celebrimbor couldn't stand this kind of shit in a fight. He proceeded to stomp the mans face in to the ground, knocking him out cold. Apologies accepted. Celebrimbor smirked as he looked back up to the crowd. Everyone in the club stared at him, half in shock and half in awe. Celebrimbor just raised his eyebrow and spoke. Don't fuck with the Yakuza. Get back to your drinks. Everyone turned around and started to chatter again as if nothing ad just happened. The bouncers came over and pulled the five men away, nodding at Celebrimbor as they left. Cel sat back down next to Ursa and ordered another drink. How's the book?</s>	<\|message\|>Xael [Zay-Uhl] Niahm [Knee-Am] As Xael sat in the corner, her eyes locked with one of the waitresses' and the woman nodded once, bustling about before heading off toward the bar, and ordering Xael's usual drink, a bellini. Once it was delivered, Xael took a long in hale of the peach scent, and then sipped at the icy beverage happily. While this happened, she watched as some military type guys were giving another guy some trouble, but they were taken care of with his little robot friend. The guy disappeared into the back area, and shortly after another guy got into a huge, but quick fight, with 4 guys who seemed extremely drunk. This all made for great entertainment, and she never really could understand why people got so weird when they were drunk. Xael never allowed herself to get like that, so the idea really was foreign. She sipped once more at her beverage, and watched as the blonde male who had fought off the four guys, sat back down and seemed to order another drink. He was sitting with a teal haired woman who had tattoos, but she seemed engrossed in a book of some kind. Xael narrowed her eyes to try and read the name on the cover, since it was tilted up slightly. The title was Economic Physics in the Ragon Galaxy by Prof. Gix Moolson. Xael tilted her head curiously, but figured it probably wasn't her style. Usually this bar wasn't so packed, but again that was probably due to the convention. With a sigh, Xael leaned back into the booth and continued to watch the scenes around her, listening and observing in complete silence, while everyone else chatted, sang, or argued.</s>
<\|description\|>Xael [Zay-Uhl] Niahm [Knee-Am] Age: Appears 22 Race: Appears human Home Planet: Theonia Z17, Galaxy Theon Skills: To be roleplayed Hobbies: People watching, dancing in the rain, going to plays/operas. Job: To be roleplayed Rank: N/A Likes: Fall, rain and thunderstorms, blue and silver, animals, coffee and wine. Dislikes: Tbr Appearance: Other: Backstory: To be roleplayed</s> <\|message\|>Xael [Zay-Uhl] Niahm [Knee-Am] Unbeknownst to the teal haired woman and the elf looking guy, Xael was listening into their conversation the entire time they were talking, as well as when the guy was using his vidcom. Vidcoms were common among most creatures, except for maybe the lower class. But they were the simplest way to communicate. Their conversation was pretty interesting. Mob type stuff it sounded like. With this in mind, Xael tried to be discreet about listening in. Things sounded pretty interesting, and before she knew it, Xael had finished her drink. A waitress came by, asking if she could refill it, but Xael shook her head and declined, giving the woman some money to pay for the lone drink. After the waitress left, Xael watched as the teal haired woman approached her table, book in hand. She dropped in gently onto the table, and spoke. "Hi. Noticed you were looking at it. I finished so..enjoy." Xael looked at the woman, slightly surprised, but thanked her. "Thank you. Not many people read anymore..." Instead of responding though, the woman simply walked off into the back booths. Xael's brow furrowed together, confused. With this confusion, she got up from her seat and followed the woman into the back. She was unsure if she was allowed back there, but went anyways. "Wait! Let me repay you for the book at least?" As she approached the private booth, the elf guy, the woman, and another guy were speaking, sounding like they were making a deal, or trying to. "Oh. Uh, sorry I'll go..."</s> <\|message\|>Orion Steiner Orion realized by her demeanour how confident but perhaps how shy the teal haired woman was. Or maybe she was just blushing. He thought to himself if she only took off that goofy looking hat she wouldn't look like a scow mechanic, but he forced himself to focus and not be led astray. He's been burned too many times. Lost too much already to be guided by emotions. "I'll offer you the going rate +10%". Orion said to Ursa. "If you can wait For a week I can add in an extra 20%, Mr.Strokath here is accompanying me and perhaps that can assuage any thoughts of double crosses as you too are acquainted. I need a simple in and out with no questions asked. I would fly myself but I need to address Security while you fly so we don't have any bad impacts so to speak". "Now, Cel tells me your good. Would you feel like telling me why your not just some Random jockey with another amazing reputation?" She looked a little taken aback and was about to reply before another lady appeared out of nowhere with a book in hand. She stammered and was at a loss for words and seemed to be. Focused on the Teal haired pilot. "Pardon me Ursa" Orion said "I don't mean any I'll will, I just need someone to say what they will.....". Orion paused. He shut off part of his vidcom that was displaying his interceptor and slid a button on his lapel to recall A.C.E. "Can we help you miss?" An alarm began to sound around the station, it seemed the station had been putting out an emergency alert for some reason. Everyone's vidcomms began to light up in the club, on the walkways, and in some of the shops. Cino cancelled the alert, the flashing was interfering with his sight picture on the target. It was bad enough the target had moved to a darker locale. He normally watches the front. The bomber jacket wasn't enough to conceal who he was but enough for a place such as the club he was in. The target had moved after dealing with a bunch of drunk marines but it didn't matter, he didn't have much time left. What did bother Cino was the people that suddenly appeared. Celebrimbor he knew was Yakuza From previous contracts but the other two civs he did not know. Cino began his breath control, it was a perfect opportunity for the hit with so much confusion. He had loaded flechette roundS into his Bison Mk.8 autorifle as he was told the target usually wore body armour. It needed to be a clean kill as was specified in the contract. He aimed his hi power electronic scope on the lapel of Orion Steiner gauging the distance. Heart first as this is a message from a loved one. A Slow blur entered the background but he ignored as he fingered the hair trigger and fired.</s> <\|message\|>Ursa Cooper Ursa listened to the young man with a raised eyebrow, as he offered the going rate plus 10% or 20% if she waited. She looked over at Cel with a confused expression, wondering if he explained to this young man her abilities. When he asked for her to share the credentials she bawked, growing standoffish as her brows came together. Now Ursa was not a cocky person naturally, she usually liked for people to consider her an underdog, but having to explain why she was one of the top smugglers of their century was something she found a bit demeaning. She opened her mouth about to let him be verbally beaten down when he seemed to catch on to her thoughts. She paused letting him speak, simmering down slightly when the young woman from before entered. She looked over at her and shook her head as if to say that she didn't have to pay her back. Suddenly the alarms went off and Ursa looked down at her vid com noting that the entire spaceport was in high alert, and was calling for a full evacuation of Phobos. She felt a wave of relief that her crew was off on a fuel drop and nowhere near here. As a smuggler, she was used to thinking on her feet and turned to the young woman about to relieve her of her worries about paying her back when she noticed a slight glint in the club. She noticed the scope and reacted immediately just as a shot went off. She lunged at Orion, using her full weight to knock him off his feet, as the bullet whizzed by hitting the wall behind him. She sat up, looking down at him quietly, "You still alive, cowboy?" She waited for a response before she nodded, "Good. Now, I don't have a rap sheet to give ya, but I'm sure you've heard of me. I'm Ursa...Ursa Cooper." She didn't stay long rolling off of him, as she kept her head down, picking up her hat as she fit it back over her hair as she eyed the exit, "I can pilot for ya, but only because Cel over there is a friend and can cover the charge if you can't pay it. Which I very much doubt you can. Now, my ship is at the port on the other side of town. Do any of you have anything closer, regardless of what just happened we need to evacuate. Fast. Once we gett out of here, you can tell me who the fuck you are and why I just had to save your ass from getting shot to hell. " She eyed the young woman, "You need a ride out of here darling?"</s> <\|message\|>Celebrimbor Sasaki Celebrimbor listened to Orian knowing what Ursa's abilities were. He smirked a bit to himself as Orion kept going. After a bit though he started to drone everything out and start to think about the plan. It shouldn't be to hard of a job plus he could handle just about anything. The beautiful girl he had saw before came up to there table with Ursa's book. He could see her better now and she will as very attractive. This was short lived though. While Ursa and Orion where still in conversation, Cel felt a change in the atmosphere. The hairs on the back of his neck started to stand up. As this happened, everyone's vidcoms started to light up. This isn't even what his attention was on at this point. From a ways away, Cel could heat the cocking of a Bison Mk.8 auto rifle. Cel was unable to react in time before the shot went off. Ursa jumped to protect Orian and once she was moved, Cel took off in the direction of the shot accidentally pushing the other girl out of the way. Normally he would apologize to her and help her up but, there was no time for that now. Whoever shot at Orion needed to be caught and now. Celebrimbor shoved past people and yelled at them to move before he was able to get out of the club. He could see where the person had shot from but, like he figured, the shooter wasn't there. If he had the time he would be able to call up the family and have them run the stats on everyone who owned that type of rifle. This frustrated Cel but there was more important things going on right now. He rushed back into the club to find the others and see how Orion was doing. He probably wanted to leave as fast as possible now after this.</s>	<\|message\|>Xael [Zay-Uhl] Niahm [Knee-Am] "Can we help you miss?" The words were spoken, but Xael barely heard them because she felt a strange and ominous feeling come over her. The music in the bar was still playing and the bass was low and rhythmic. She turned around, the teal haired woman doing so likewise to look at something. Then everything happened in slow motion, but also quicker than it seemed was possible. She heard the sound of a gun go off, and turned to see the woman lunge toward the guy she had been trying to make a deal with. The elf looking guy got up to go chase down the gunman, pushing Xael out of the way as he shifted passed her. The connection threw her back, stumbling into the wall behind her. Her head smacked against the cement pillar and blood began to drop down the back of her head and down her neck. It was hidden by her long black hair, but either way she could smell and feel it. She groaned, standing up straight again when her vidcom went off, sounding an alarm. It was similar, but not exactly alike the one used for testing the emergency plans. At that moment, everyone else who owned a vidcom seemed to go silent and glance down at theirs as well. The music that had been playing shifted into a panic inducing voice, which was automated. "Code White! Vacate immediately! Code White! Vacate immediately! Code White! Vacate immediately!" Xael's stomach dropped. Code white meant that the entire planet was in danger, and everyone needed to evacuate in whatever way possible to the nearest habitable planet for safety. She glanced at the woman and man again, her blue eyes widening when the woman spoke. "You need a ride out of here darling?" "I have a ride. If that ship of yours you were talking about isn't close by, we can leave on mine. I need a decision quick though, otherwise we'll all be dead." She waited only for a moment for a response, and then began heading out toward the door, wanting to silence her vidcom. Nothing would override the emergency call though. So instead, she focused on getting whoever wanted to follow her, to her ship. She turned on her heels and darted with impeccable speed toward the door, shoving passed drunk patrons who were in full panic mode. This wasn't Xael's first experience with a Code White however, so she was as calm as she could be. She didn't bother looking back as it would just waste time. Crashing through the bar doors, the cold air stung her cheeks, which were flushed pink from the warmth inside the bar. "My ship is only a few blocks from here, on the South East landing pad. Come on!" She called behind her, hoping the others were following and keeping pace. She was quick despite her lack of height. Coming up to one of the street corners, a loud explosion sounded nearby accompanied by a blinding flash of red and white light. She could hear people screaming and another explosion followed only seconds later. With her feet continuously hitting the pavement, she glanced back to see what exactly was going on. No one would probably notice that she was barefoot. The other three were following in suit, and what looked to be meteors were falling everywhere from the sky, destroying everything in their path. Xael pressed a slender finger to the screen of her vidcom, trying to tune it to a radio station to find out what exactly was happening. Sometimes other planets or people would attack out of whatever reason. This seemed strange and random, with no warning like would be expected. As they approached the landing pad, another explosion occurred a little too close for comfort. It sent out shock waves similar to an Earthquake and tossed Xael forward onto the road in front of her. Shrapnel went flying from nearby buildings and luckily, she was able to narrowly avoid most of it with minor lesions. "Why does this keep happening?" she whispered to herself, standing back up and beginning her sprint again.</s>
<\|description\|>Xael [Zay-Uhl] Niahm [Knee-Am] Age: Appears 22 Race: Appears human Home Planet: Theonia Z17, Galaxy Theon Skills: To be roleplayed Hobbies: People watching, dancing in the rain, going to plays/operas. Job: To be roleplayed Rank: N/A Likes: Fall, rain and thunderstorms, blue and silver, animals, coffee and wine. Dislikes: Tbr Appearance: Other: Backstory: To be roleplayed</s> <\|message\|>Xael [Zay-Uhl] Niahm [Knee-Am] "Do you all actually think we have fucking time to stop by all of your ships!? The planet is fucking being destroyed you dickweeds!" Xael growled, the sound echoing through the cockpit as she sat down after Cel moved from the chair. She tried to ignore the other guy's comments. Obviously his little robot buddy didn't know shit because Xael's ship was one of the best live in ships from her planet. Sure, maybe it wasn't built for war, but that wasn't what she was about. Either way, it pissed her off, and her eyes flashed a bright blue before returning to the normal blue. "I can fix that up for you if you would like. Make it just like new." Cel said, offering to heal the wound at the back of her head. She would need to shower to get the blood out of her hair, and figured if he could fix the problem, she might as well let him, despite being annoyed. "Sure, I guess. In the meantime, you can explain to me about your mob boss conversation while we get to safety."</s> <\|message\|>Orion Steiner Orion brought up a picture of docking bay November. Well, what used to be it. The bay was completely obliterated and as to be expected, no interceptor. "Damn" cursed Orion slamming his fist on ACE. ACE jolted from the shock of his steel fist resetting to ensure his system would remain running without any bugs. The screen tripped and what must have been a firewall was bypassed on the ships screen. Nice trick. Wonder what else is hidden behind here. He thought better as the last thing he needed was to tell that girl what she didn't want to hear or see and I'm sure she wouldn't want him snooping so he pulled ACE out and directed him to find a place and to enter standby mode. "Relax blue eyes, it must have been this rust bucket over here, I'll get him to fix that up when he can" proclaimed Orion. "Anyways my ships toast so there's no need to be concerned however before we start making plans maybe we better figure out what the hell is going on out there cause I ain't got a clue."</s> <\|message\|>Ursa Cooper Ursa turned to Cel after he came back from fixing his hair, her focus clearly on keeping the ship from getting blown to bits or hit. She listened to his thoughts and nodded, "Oh I don't doubt that. Someone wants him dead and on top of this evacuation, it all seems a bit coincidental." She geared right, the ship shaking slightly as she moved her focus from Cel to the sky 'road.' She heard Cel's request and turned around quickly, "Oh right away your majesty. You just sit there looking pretty." She smirked at the new girl's comment, pulling up as they narrowly missed a Raxer 900 superspeeder. She grumbled turning back to hit a few buttons, "Thankyou..Let's just see if we get out of here with this ship intact then we can see about getting your vessel. Okay?" She turned to Orion as he brought up an image of the newly destroyed bay. Ursa ignored Orion's rage at Ace her thoughts moving to the port beneath her. Beside the bay was an orphanage called Red Tides. She knew of it because the kids there she would use to help her catch intel for the Draconians. Phobos was a rough place to live, but the kids didn't know any better. And now they never will.. She let out a soft breath, narrowing her eyes as she looked at the sky, hearing Orion's wish to find out what's happening, "I think it's about time we find out. I'm done with this crowd." She hit the gas and shot up, breaking out of the traffic to sore through the skies up towards the airlock. Ahead of them large cruisers and smaller personal space yachts were scattered, heading for the airlock as they tried to dodge large blasts. Ursa stayed calm, rolling back and forth as she twisted through spaces just big enough for her vehicle, to push through. Suddenly a blast came to the upper pocket and she was pushed to the left slamming into a deep grey spacecraft. It flew back hitting two more vehicles as they fell back to the blackened Phobos. Ursa pulled back grunting as she tried to regain control. She went against the current, barely hitting another speeder before pulling back. Moving again through the cracks before finally, she could see the entryway. She plowed through her eyes narrowing as she swore, "The blasts are aimed. They aren't random...They are trying to shoot civilians?!" She looked around at the cruisers that seemed big enough to take enough damage. She rolled past a Draconian styled yacht, and shot up towards the other side of a cruiser, leaving a very narrow space of escape. It would allow them to clear the air-lock and keep them out of range of the blasts, but it would be close. She knew that if they missed they would be dead, either crushed by the cruiser or smashed into the edge or another spacecraft. She smirked, letting anyone see the intention on her face. One of both wild abandon and delusion, before she sang out quickly an old earth song by Kansas, "CARRY ON MY WAYWARD SON, THERE WILL BE PEACE WHEN YOU ARE DONE! LAY YOUR WEARY HEAD TO REST!!! DON'T YOU CRY NO MORE!! HOLD ON!" She floored it, a cry of fearless abandon escaping her, as she lost herself in her own personal melody. She kicked the ship into high gear as the air in the craft pulled whatever wasn't nailed down across the room. She clenched the controls hard, her hat flying off of her head as she wrenched the craft a hard left as it rolled around facing Phobos. Moving backward, she swung it up into a vertical angle, her hair flying downwards as they slid just narrowly past the cruiser, and the airlock. She hit the controls to prep the vehicle for space travel and set her right side up, moving up the edge of the cruiser before she slowed, hoping to stay behind it as they came to see what was shooting them. Ursa let out a breath and turned to look at her companions, whom to her seemed a bit disheveled with the ships drastic twists, "Made it." She smiled wide as if she didn't just almost kill them before she turned back to the screen, pressing a button so that the windows were open to open space just as they began to slowly see what was shooting Phobos. Her eyes grew wide as she tried to understand what she was seeing, "What type of ship is that???"</s> <\|message\|>Celebrimbor Sasaki Cel winked at the girl before leaving to find a seat. "Once we're out of this mess I'll clean you up and make that better. I'll do my best to explain any questions you may have for me." He smiled at her then left. In the next room he found a spot to sit and buckle up. Knowing Ursa, she was going to fly like crazy. He held on tight as She flew them out of Phobos and into the atmosphere. Hell still raining down On the ground below. Cel has been in some shit before but nothing like this. Who would go this far to find one person? Right now that didn't matter. All he could think about was if anyone was going to make it and how he was going to threaten Orion. That man knew something and Celebrimbor knew that he did, otherwise there wouldn't have been a bullet shot at him. The craft tossed around as Ursa was dodging out of the way and with this, Cel's hair got all messed up again. "Why do I even try?" He groaned to himself as his hair waved around like crazy. "Maybe I'll just chop it all off." He thought to himself then instantly laughed "Yeah fuck that." He laughed some more as the ship started to slow down as it reached space. Cel could hear Ursa's what was that and came running. He didn't even have to ask when he saw the massive ship raining hell on the planet. This was it, he had to have answers and now. Cel Spun around to find Orion and drag him to the cockpit. It didn't take long for Cel long to find him, for he was basically where he was before. "You. Come with me now. He spoke deeply, sounding very irritated and pissed. He lead Orion to where Ursa was. "If you want to go any farther, you will explain to me what that is and why the hell it is after you.</s> <\|message\|>Orion Steiner Dragged up to the cockpit Orion looked up through the perspex glass in astonishment. "It can't be, that's impossible!" Eclipsed by Saturn and looming ominous like a demon backlit by flames was a space fortress of monstrous proportions. Gothic in architecture the fortress' midsection was slowly rotating clockwise while the upper and lower sections were rotating in the opposite direction to compensate for the loss of gravity in space. A ship of that size simply could not have enough gravimetric pods to safely create artificial gravity like capital ships could. Large bursts of flame erupted from 4 long apertures in the midsection which rained down upon the moon of Phobos' primary Colony station. Other bright flashes of light erupted as capital guns fired in addition with an engaged Phobos Fleet. Popping on the fortress' surface on what looked like a rippling bubble was the return fire from the fleet. Splashes of purple and green in what seemed an attack of such insignificance. "I will crush you as if you were but an ant under my thumb" thought Orion. ACE cut through the silence in response to Celebrimbors accusatory remarks with a cold explanation. "A planetary station originally designed for protection and interstellar trade, Nimbus Point One or NP1 was once an experimental hub designed for the Valorians stationed off the Gates of Auriga. An attack by Rulons with the intent as a first and last strike measure decimated a large portion of the Valorian fleet who were charged with protecting the station. Caught off guard and outgunned the Valorians fought a defensive battle but attrition took its toll. Time was desperately needed to stave off combined attacks on the station. Unknown to most people the station had many experimental weapons and even were testing Dark Void technology." Orion interrupted visibly shaken "In an effort to try to salvage lives and technology the Admiral of the station shifted orbit to shield what little was left of the fleet. Several of the larger ships who were transporting civilians used the stations experimental Dark Void and disappeared. I had a hand in designing some of the weapons and even drew up a rough sketch of a rotating payload delivery system to get dropships on planet surfaces faster and safer." He paused and whispered "Is evil something you are? or something you do?". Raising his voice "It cant be though. Those initial drawings were on the Sagittarius and that ship disappeared into the void and that station was destroyed!" Slamming his fist on the control panel, sadness giving rise to anger "and my sister gave her life to make sure of that!" Eyes watering from a flashback of his sisters mayday message hanging in his head Orion looked away from the party and out onto the maelstrom in front of him. "I don't know what else to say." Composed he looked back towards Celebrimbor intently. "I don't believe it would be after me? It makes no sense. Nothing does. Did you see the round that sniper used? A flechette round. Whoever wanted me dead also wanted my body found and wanted me to be recognized, publicly displayed but perhaps by someone with motive not to show me disfigured. Not a simple blow the back of my head off dirty kill. This was meticulous and this was calculated. It just doesn't make sense someone would go to the trouble and then order an orbital bombardment. No, this must be something else. That ship shouldn't even exist. Those weapons seem designed for an assault on the colony station itself." He paused hoping Cel would let his statement sink in before reacting he mentioned to ACE "Can you identify the ships name or callsign?" Orion stabilized himself as Ursa rocked the ship back towards Phobos in an effort to dodge a civilian Caravelle, its cockpit shattered and bodies floating into space; the moon appeared to be cracking from the continuous concussive force from the fortresses main guns. The colony station was in flames and few ships were coming out of the makeshift atmosphere anymore. In space, the ship was avoiding debris from all manner of destroyed imperial and private ships alike. Swarms of coordinated strikes seemed to be occurring on larger vessels, even ones that obviously had no defensive weapons and were purely civilian. The military channels were a cacophony of chatter, screams and calls for help went unanswered. Phobos was no more. The moon seemed to shudder before seemingly expunging a 1/3 of it's surface in opposite directions with light appearing from Saturn through the moons broken core. In the quiet moments that followed while the members looked out in awe at such a destructive force , blue light rippled from the massive station outwards. It flowed like a phosphorescent wake creating darkness where once there was light. Ships in the distance their drives burning bright turned to black and appeared to lose control. Using the shipboard computers ACE quickly scanned the behemoth "Class unidentified...technology unidentified...weapons unidentified...name identified...origin identified...previous location unidentified...presence of a gravimetric well increasing...". The wave got closer as some ships initiated their hyperdrives and escaped to long distant places. Orion cut ACE off before he could finish "Shut it down! Shut it all down now or were all dead!" Schematic</s>	<\|message\|>Xael [Zay-Uhl] Niahm [Knee-Am] Xael glanced at Ursa, who was expertly controlling her vessel. She was weaving in and out of spaces between other ships, rubble and people. She felt safe and despite not knowing this person from any universe, she was going to put her trust in her. They needed to get into hyperdrive as quickly as possible, but unfortunately that came with risks since there were new people around. Usually Xael never flew with others so it never mattered until this moment. But, it was her identity or their lives. She furrowed her brow slightly and moved to stand in front of Ursa. Xael was short enough that if she bent her knees, Ursa would be able to see over her. Xael breathed in deeply and stared at the dashboard. She reached out, pressing some tiny buttons that were almost invisible to anyone else. After inputting the sequence, a little thin piece of metal popped up from a hidden compartment. It was in the shape of a T and along the top held two small black holes. It held two tiny eye scanners. Xaels appearance shifted then. But if you blinked you wouldn't have noticed. The mechanism scanned her eyes and retreated back to it hiding place. Within a few seconds the hyperdrive was activated, and Xael shifted out of the way again, watching Cel drag Orion toward the cockpit, asking him to explain. While Xael was listening, her mouth dropped open slightly in shock and she for a moment couldn't believe what type of people she had gotten herself involved in. Shaking her head, she turned to Orion. "Well, if you created the blueprint for this ship, you must know it's weak spots? What can we do besides escape? Is there anything we can do? We have to do something!"</s>
<\|description\|>Xael [Zay-Uhl] Niahm [Knee-Am] Age: Appears 22 Race: Appears human Home Planet: Theonia Z17, Galaxy Theon Skills: To be roleplayed Hobbies: People watching, dancing in the rain, going to plays/operas. Job: To be roleplayed Rank: N/A Likes: Fall, rain and thunderstorms, blue and silver, animals, coffee and wine. Dislikes: Tbr Appearance: Other: Backstory: To be roleplayed</s> <\|message\|>Ursa Cooper The ship in front of them was something she had never witnessed before. It was a beast, with a functionality that both entranced and disturbed her. She jumped slightly, creating some space when Xael came to stand in front of her, touching the dash to bring out a hidden compartment that she assumed was part of the security feature. She watched the girl quietly, her eyebrows raising in question. She opened her mouth, about to ask the girl what she just saw when she noted the Hyperdrive was loaded and ready to go. She dodged a large piece of a broken cruiser, when her thoughts were interrupted by Cel and Orion's discussion. She eyed Xael giving her a, "I saw that…" look before she returned back to the massive ship in front of her, wondering who would design this terror. Her answer came from Orion and she turned to look up at him, only briefly before she eyed the small futile battle in front of her. ACE explained further about the station, and her eyes widened. Valorians, Dark Void technology! Who the hell was this guy?? She turned back to her job, the ship veering to the right, as she tried to focus on what Orion was saying. Despite the way she treated him early, she could tell his memories were painful, and his sadness touched her. She looked up at him quietly as he gazed at the maelstrom, not knowing what to say to comfort him. She pondered as to why she would want to when he explained that the man sent to kill him probably wasn't in coalition with this behemoth. She was about to comment on all this information when suddenly another ship swung towards them, She narrowly swung out of the way, gripping the handles tightly as she headed back towards Phobos. She charged through the carnage of space, expertly dodging heavy debris and strike shots. She could hear the harrowing calls for help and the screams of innocent civilians who just hours before were just laughing in the market place. A ship to the left of them blew up, bodies floating into space, those that weren't killed by the blast gasped for oxygen that they could not find. Ursa reared to the right, not willing to let herself be overcome by the carnage, as she had passengers with her. She was waiting for just the right moment to use the hyperdrive when suddenly a loud eruption exploded beneath her and the ship swung out. She grit her teeth, digging in her feet as she tried to retain control, "COME ON!!" She gained some leverage and swung back, noting something was wrong. It took her a minute to realize what it was. It was the silence. No more calls for help or orders to the fleet, because Phobos was gone. She stared forward, their ship surrounded by the remains of destroyed ships. She looked at it all with a torn expression not even realizing a tear had fallen down her cheek, as the chaos erupted around her. Suddenly a deep blue light erupted from the behemoth, and Ursa watched in horror as this wave hit many of the remaining ship's Drives cutting them off before her. This wasn't an act of war. This was a complete genocide. Annihilation to completion. Innocents destroyed so quickly and efficiently. She stared at the behemoth as if it had a new face. One showing an evil that she had never seen firsthand, and she had seen some dark hells in her own past. Her shock was broken by ACE in the background when suddenly Orion's voice hit her like a hammer. She followed his command, reacting quickly as she slammed back the control lever powering off the vessel instantly as all the lights and energy in the ship turned off. The wave only feet from the ship now. They were far enough from Phobos' atmosphere that they wouldn't fall but the gravity in the room was also canceled. Ursa rose slightly off her seat but was held down by her seatbelts. She glared at the ship in front of her, as she responded to Xael, "We can't do anything to it in this, and I don't think we have much time, before they realize that we are still alive. They clearly don't want any survivors and I don't plan on dying today. So.. Handso..I mean Orion, tell me when I can hyperdrive out of here..." She wiped her cheek, her emotions locked down as she turned down the ship's thermostat the air inside the ship turning colder by the minute. Just in case they were scanning for bodies, the cold would help to block their heat signatures. It wasn't a fast method but with that machine as big as it was, she figured its range was split into different quadrants which would make readings a smaller percentage, "That might help if they are tracking for life forms. Try to keep your breaths short and soft."</s> <\|message\|>Celebrimbor Sasaki As much as Cel knew the kind of pain Orion was feeling, he had a bit of a hard time feeling bad for him in this moment. The Behemoth in front of them was destroying everything in its path. It still shocked him that anyone could build something like this and he had seen some pretty scary shit in the past. In that moment though, Cel felt a cool brush of air behind him. He spun around to see if someone else was on the ship with them but nothing was there. He then felt pressure on his right arm but, same as before, no one was touching him. Cel shook his head. "Get a grip Cel. You've seen death before." He thought to himself thinking it was just nerves, but the feeling of someone being around him wouldn't go away. As he turned around to look back at the death machine, Phobos exploded into nothing. Ships where blowing up from the force and rubble of the now destroyed moon. Everything he had known and loved was gone. Ursa had shut down the ship as Orion yelled. They were suspended in space, watching the carnage unfold around them. Cel had to look away. There was no hope for anyone else out there unless they got lucky like the four of them did. "Seeing as we're going to be stuck here for a while, we might as well get better acquainted." He mostly said that to get everyone's attention away from the horror outside. He looked at the new girl and shook her hand properly. "I'm Celebrimbor, but you can cal me Cel for short. Makes it easier." He smiled then kissed her hand. He already knew who Ursa was, given probably not aswell as he'd liked. She worked for him before and had a relatively good relationship with her, but there was probably a lot that he didn't know about her. As for Orion.... He didn't want to know him.</s> <\|message\|>Orion Steiner "That's a good question" stated Orion "Ursa, is it?". Ursa nodded an affirmative while maintaining her facial expression. Orion could see the breath begin to form from the loss in temperature and as a kind gesture offered his coat to Ursa. "It's going to get colder and you might want this For the time being.". He paused "Now we would have to ask the missus over here about the hyperdrive." Orion turned towards Xael. "Forgive my intrusions but I am most appreciative of you risking to travel with us particularly without knowing who or what we were. Formal introductions would be prudent concerning the state we are in." Orion thought for a moment and looked back towards Ursa who had that old familiar look and Drifted his gaze to the black monstrosity outside the cockpit. "Officially I am Star Colonel Orion Cassius Steiner of the 21st Centauri Lancers. Prince to the Valorian Hedgemony. I was a student under Anastasius Focht of the Maskirovka before our world Valera erupted into full scale war with the Rulons again. I feel compelled to be honest with you all. I have been trying to secure the funds and back channel support for Valora. We are at a stalemate and have been fighting a losing war. I sequestered Celebrimbors services for transport to my dropship. We all seem to have come together by pure coincidence. Gladly I thank you all for putting any differences aside to emerge from this horror unscathed." He extended the olive branch "This is your ship. I am at your mercy. I would prefer and I would pay you in kind if you would take me to my dropship, however if you want to go to another system, I can find an alternate way to get back". Celebrimbor Looked up in dismay most likely perturbed by Orion's choice to offer an alternative that did not coincide with him getting his deal so Orion mentioned "Don't worry Cel, our deal still stands and in light of the circumstances I'm sure we can come to another arrangement that works for both of us." Orion turned back to the control panel pushing himself off of a stagnate ACE, his magnetics keeping him attached to the deck in near zero g. "Just curious". He motioned to Xael "How long would it take for your systemS to be back. Without a doubt whomever they are will be sending out scout fighters to finish the job". He turned back to Ursa draping his jacket over her and the chair. "That was some nifty flying, you didn't learn that all from simple shoot an scoots. You've been places and by the look on your face Wherever it was left a scar. The eyes don't lie." He stared at her for a moment looking past the emotional barricade she was putting up. He'd seen that look every time he looked in a mirror. "Now once we get this up and running is there anything I can do to assist?" ............autonomous computerized entity boot sequence initiated. ............Diagnostic recovery in progress. ............Sensors Initiating. ............................... ............uplink to Master override complete. ............Fission startup initiated. ........................3...2...1. Autonomous systems activated. Weapon Systems Nominal. Life Support Systems Nominal. All Systems Nominal. Searching.................... Status Operation Nova Redoubt .... pending Status Operation Vigilance ... pending Status Operation Nimbus Point 1 ... Complete. Files Secured. Status Sagittarius ... unknown Status Valora ... unknown ...unable to update Unable to locate Signal 224. Unable to locate Signal 418. Commencing secondary startup and tertiary systems. Memory purge, systems incomplete. Beginning tertiary diagnostics and memory defrag...</s> <\|message\|>Ursa Cooper As the temperature dropped, Ursa brought her hands up to her mouth, trying to warm them slightly as she shivered. Orion walked over and she turned to look at him, giving him a nod when he mentioned her name. She was about to reject the offer of his coat in protest of her pride when he paused turning to Xael. Ursa listened in to Orion's introduction, taking in the information with a newfound interest. She knew about the war on Valera through her boss Jerry. That sector was run by Yuri's crew, and he was probably providing the Rulon's with ex-grade munitions to fight the Valorian's, or aiding the Valorians in the same manner. Hell, the bastard was probably doing runs for both. She didn't know and she was glad that she could honestly say she knew nothing about it. Would be messy if Orion found out her compatriot was batting for the other team. She turned away looking out at the carnage before her as she tried to deduce a pathway out of here. The loss of both Phobos and the innocent lives that settled there would haunt her. She was lucky to be alive. They all were. She turned to look at Xael with a tough reassuring smile, "Don't worry about the fighters, Dollface. I've never lost a client or a vessel in my entire career and I don't intend to anytime soon. Just in case we die though, I also want to thank you for letting us use your vessel. I'm Ursa Cooper by the way!" She shivered again her hands shaking slightly on the handles when a jacket was draped over her and the chair. She looked up at Orion, wishing her hat didn't fly off earlier as she felt slightly exposed. She gave him a cool look, one she used to keep most men at arms length when he spoke. She felt the urge to look away, not liking that he seemed to be able to look right through her. Her yellow eyes didn't waver though, and even though she seemed to keep her control, she was slightly rattled. She felt the sudden urge to be honest, and to let him see the pain she carried. Perhaps it was because she could see he had it to as he said visible in his own eyes. She didn't trust him though, she could already tell by her attitude with him that she was playing with fire. Secrets were her livelihood and the less anyone knew about her the better. So she closed up and the brief moment of truth was replaced with a mischievous smirk, her thick titanium walls closing to him as she responded lightly in a teasing drawl, "Thanks, cowboy. I bet you say that to all the pretty girls. And uh..thanks for the coat." She gave him a too-wide smile as she put it on the right way, her hands shaky as she pulled it tight around her. Humor was a defense mechanism she used often, and even with the sadness just below the surface, she felt it necessary to use it now. She was already feeling warmer as she turned to watch the big behemoth, move slowly away from the destroyed remains of Phobos. She could see from a distance the release of scouting ships, with four to five heading in their direction. She swore, "Shit..." She then looked up at Orion at his request to help and turned to Xael, "That depends on the weapon system this ship is equipped with. Dollface, we have got five bogies coming this way, and the temperature drop will only hide us for so long. I'm assuming the big boy needs time to recharge that wave before it hits again so if we want to hyperdrive we need to do it soon. It will take too long to give me full access so you will have to man the drive." She turned to Ace who seemed to be spewing out commands/system checks too fast for her to comprehend, "Is uh..he okay? Seems like he has a few wires loose?"</s>	<\|message\|>Xael [Zay-Uhl] Niahm [Knee-Am] Xael didn't seem to be bothered by the drop in temperature and simply watched Ursa's face as she navigated the ship. It would probably take 3-7 minutes to reboot the ship depending, though most times it never got to the 7 minute mark. "I'm Xael. It's too bad this circumstance was how we'd meet. And it should take under 7 minutes to reboot. My ship is equipped with shield barricades and a small laser, which is mostly used for getting rid of small space rocks in my way. I've never had to use it for battle before. I will say though, I'm not the fighting type. So if escaping is the best option, I vote for that. I can control the drive if that's what's needed." Xael looked at the spot on her hand in which Cel had kissed and a soft, pinkish hue shifted across her cheeks momentarily. She tried to ignore the look Ursa gave her though. "We can go any place you all want or need to. I don't have anywhere to be."</s>
<\|description\|>Xael [Zay-Uhl] Niahm [Knee-Am] Age: Appears 22 Race: Appears human Home Planet: Theonia Z17, Galaxy Theon Skills: To be roleplayed Hobbies: People watching, dancing in the rain, going to plays/operas. Job: To be roleplayed Rank: N/A Likes: Fall, rain and thunderstorms, blue and silver, animals, coffee and wine. Dislikes: Tbr Appearance: Other: Backstory: To be roleplayed</s> <\|message\|>Orion Steiner "The ship is on the other side of that" Orion pointing to the giant plasma cloud that flickered and shot out bursts of gaseous balls. "We don't have to go through, but it will take a days travel to get around it. We still have to watch for asteroids and the occasional pirate lurking but I'm sure we will be fine". Orion began to unhook ACE who definitely had seen better days and inputted a new set of coordinates into the ships . "If you all would excuse me, this will get us where we need, your autopilot can handle it but someone should keep watch in case we get jumped. If you need me I'll be going through ACEs data and figuring out what just happened in your cargo bay." Orion followed slowly by ACE found the cargo bay and was able to find a spot in the rear secluded and dimly lit. He had ACE begin running through his diagnostics and spitting out problem after problem to him. He would need some techs to work on him once he got to his dropship. "I don't have time for this" he whispered to himself. "ACE, I need something to take my mind off of all this data. Play me something She would like." ACEs voice changed from a robotic and guttural sound to a seemingly prerecorded Feminine voice. "How about my favourite? I know you secretely like it". Orion replied "That would be fine honey". The aria began to play lightly in the background for a minute before the feminine recording chimed in "Do you want me to leave you alone to think Orion? It's been awhile since we talked But I understand what your going through." Orion speaking words as if he said them a million times already "Yes Kristi, I will make time for us when I get back. I promise we will get there soon!". The feminine voice suddenly Stopped and changed back to the guttural form of ACE. "Do you want me to Continue playIn the selection or would you prefer something else, sir?". Orion layer down on his back on the deck, "No continue, once it's finished que up the data on the NP1 and the Mortem Obire. I need everything we got." I'm just going to close my eyes for a bit. The aria had finished as Orion slowly opened up his eyes to ACEs pop down monitor opening and loading the data metrics for the two behemoths. "Thanks ACE". Orion began to rifle through the screen on the monitor and after a few more minutes of comparing he piped up in a stern voice. "Play Entry of the gods to Valhalla"</s> <\|message\|>Celebrimbor Sasaki Cel sat down behind Xael and ran his hand through his hair. It seemed like it was still turning black. He sighed then buckled in. "Don't worry about it. When I find out what's going on you'll be the first to know." He winked at her then tightened the belt, knowing how crazy Ursa would be driving. The cold embraced his arm again, slowly moving up his arm again, but stopping at his shoulder. "Just fuck off." He muttered to himself. Ursa started up the ship and started playing her music as they flew through the void, dodging everything that came at them. Seeing what Orion and Xael where doing, Cel got up when he had a moment to breath and took off for the lasers and shield. He heard Ursa call for him and Orion to hop on the laser. "I'm way ahead of you!" He hollered back. Once he found the controls, Cel felt more comfortable. "Now this is what I like!" He pulled up the focus and started to aim. Blasting everything that came their way. One after another, ship by ship, he was hitting. The laser wasn't strong enough to destroy any of the ships, but it was enough to disable. Normally at this speed he would miss a few times, but each shot was hitting its mark. Almost as if something was guiding his hand. The cold creeped up his other arm again stopping at his shoulders. Out of nowhere though, the stars started to shoot buy faster and faster. "They must have gotten the hyperdrive going. I should go check on the others again and make sure everyone's okay." Cel stood up and started to make his way back to the cockpit, but his legs started to give out on him. The shiver returned and the cold started to engulf his whole body again. "What.... is happening to me." he studdered then fell to his knees. He looked at his hands then at the glass in front of him. Though it wasn't much, he could see the reflection of himself and the gold figure behind him. It was taking more of a form. It looked humanoid but also Alien. Cel only caught a glimpse of the figure before the rest of his body gave out and fell to the floor. His vision blurred but before he passed out, he could see the faint figure of someone. Maybe someone real. "Damn it." Cel grunted before passing out.</s> <\|message\|>Ursa Cooper The large plasma cloud that Orion pointed to made Ursa squirm, her voice slightly scratchy, "Probably could get through it, but the ship doesn't need the extra damage." With Orion putting in some coordinates and setting the ship to autopilot Ursa changed the temperature back to normal before she stood up, stretching slightly. She rubbed her neck, "I suppose I can take first watch..I am still burning off some energy from the chase." She watched as Orion took off with Ace and walked over to her hat turning it around so that she could push her bangs out of her face before she looked over at Xael, "Thanks for the directions, and the ship. I know having us bums join you probably wasn't what you were planning today." She gave the girl a once over, wanting to mention what happened earlier with her eyes when she figured she should go check on Cel. He was her friend after all and he seemed to be struggling with something physically. She pointed to the door, "I'm just gonna go check on long locks. Want to keep an eye out for a few minutes." At Xael's response she smiled walking towards the hallway connecting the cockpit to the weapons station, "Cel? You all..CEL?" She looked over to see Cel with thick black hair and a gold alien-like shimmering just near him. She pulled out one of her guns and narrowed her eyes, "GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HIM JACKASS! You don't know me but I can promise you I am one hell of a good shot. So unless you want one between the eyes. I suggest to you. STEP. BACK." She was deadly serious, and the creature seemed to take her warning honestly before it leaned down slowly towards Cel. She prepared to shoot it as it prepared to strike her but instead it began to fuse into Cels form. She watched in silence before it disappeared inside her friend, "What the f.." As soon as it was gone she re-sheathed her weapon and ran to Cel falling to her knees as she rolled him onto his back pushing his hair out of his face, and leaning his head back so she could feel for a breath, "You better not be dead...you little. Oh, thank Cthulu." She put her ear to his chest, sighing when she heard a heartbeat. She sat up resting a hand on her knee as she looked over him, leaning down to tap his cheek, "Cel?? Handsome?? If you wake up now I'll show ya my jugs??" Cel would probably be over the moon for that or at least disturbed by her use of the word jugs, but he didn't seem to hear her, meaning he was completely out of it. She pulled off Orion's jacket and placed it under his head as she stood up moving back towards the cockpit. She called out to Xael, "Hey Xael? Uh.. Cel is passed out in the hallway, and I think, mind you not being dead sober, that a gold alien being just was vacuumed into his body. Do you have a med bay or can you help him? I'm worried.." She motioned the girl over, looking down at Cel as she placed her head on his forehead to feel his temperature, "He feels cold, but that may be because of the temperature." She didn't lie to Xael she was worried. She didn't love Cel like a brother, but as criminal relationships go, they had a solid one. She didn't want to see him hurt. She looked over at Xael, "I'm gonna go let Orion know what's happened. Just in case we have another stowaway hiding on here. Can you stay with him? Okay..I'll be right back." She headed down the hallway, unsure where to go when she heard some music. She followed it, pausing as the voice of a woman could be heard inside. She was about to interrupt when she realized it was a recording. She waited until the second song played before she came in, walking over to find Orion about to fall asleep, "Yo...Sexy pants. Sorry to ruin your sleep but Cel just fell unconscious and an alien-looking motherfucker just leeched into him. I don't know if there are more of them on this ship, but I figured I should tell you. Xael's with him now but I don't know if she has any med skills?"</s>	<\|message\|>Xael [Zay-Uhl] Niahm [Knee-Am] "Sure I'll keep an eye. He's probably just being dramatic about that his hair is turning black or something..." Xael smiled to herself slightly, relaxing once the ship seemed to shift to autopilot and also began to warm up. The warmth was comforting despite she didn't really need it for survival. She reached down, her long slender fingers unbuckling the harness which was holding her into her seat. Her eyes flashed across the dash, ensuring the artificial gravity was activated as well. Once she felt everything was fine, she leaned back slightly, watching the galaxies around them as the ship made it's way to Orion's ship likewise. It seemed like only a few seconds had passed before Ursa was called for Xael to come see Cel, stating he was passed out in the hall. Xael's brow furrowed and she got up, and continued toward Ursa as she kept speaking. She had said she thought a weird golden alien had been vacuumed into Cel's body. Xael's eyes shifted to a slight sideways glance, feeling confused and unsure about what Ursa was really talking about. "I'm not sure what you mean by a golden alien? Like... someone else was here? Or was it just... like... a fuzzy image? Could you have imagined it?" She waited for Ursa to respond, and when she did, Xael chewed her lower lip. After a few moments of Xael looking at Cel passed out, Ursa said she was going to tell Orion, and got up to leave. This left Xael and Cel alone, despite his unconscious state. She knelt down next to him and leaned in, listening to breathing. She assumed though by how Ursa was reacting, that he was alive. Warm breath caressed her cheek so she leaned back up again to look him over. Nothing seemed to be wrong on his body. No injured she could see flat out, he looked a bit pale, but was regardless of trauma or not. Again, her brow furrowed together. She figured she would try to wake him up again while she waited for Ursa to come back. "Cel...?" She said gently, reaching out to grip both of his arms just below to the shoulder, and shook him carefully. "There's something we need to talk to you about. You should probably open your eyes..." While waiting for him to give any type of response, Xael stood up and shifted toward a wall of cabinets a few feet away. She opened up a tall skinny one, pulling out a heating blanket and some cleansed water. She shut the cabinet door and returned to kneel next to him. First, she propped him up carefully against the wall into a seated position, put the blanket over top of him, and then opened up the water. With the water cylinder open, she poured some into the palm of her hand and wet Cel's face slightly. She then leaned back on her heels and watched him again.</s>
<\|description\|>Xael [Zay-Uhl] Niahm [Knee-Am] Age: Appears 22 Race: Appears human Home Planet: Theonia Z17, Galaxy Theon Skills: To be roleplayed Hobbies: People watching, dancing in the rain, going to plays/operas. Job: To be roleplayed Rank: N/A Likes: Fall, rain and thunderstorms, blue and silver, animals, coffee and wine. Dislikes: Tbr Appearance: Other: Backstory: To be roleplayed</s> <\|message\|>Orion Steiner Ursa walked in on Orion attempting to digest the information he was able to pull from ACE. He had been figuring a way to describe exactly what they saw and it's potential. He saw Ursa in the entryway backLit by the white light from the corridor still with his bomber jacket On. He would have to get that back. She described a situation that had developed with Cel. "ACE, stay here and keep running scenarios. I'll be back." Directed Orion. He got up and walked out of the bay led by Ursa. Orion heard Cel comment about a "Golden Experience" thinking how weird those Yakuza really were. First R.Kelly and now this guys into being urinated on? They walked by the medbay noticing Xael and Cel And backtracked inside. He directed his gaze to Cel who seemed to be in a delirious state. "Maybe a sedative is in order? Is this a result of the gravity loss from back at Phobos?" Commented Orion. He looked at his chronograph "We shouldn't be far Now from my dropship. On-board I have some advanced medtech that could make sense out of him." Orion shifted his gaze eyeing his jackets inner pocket That Ursa was wearing and said to her. "If the ships temps are to your liking I can take that back if you don't need it anymore." Trying to be as polite as he could be.</s> <\|message\|>Ursa Cooper Ursa took out one of her pistols moving through the ship along with Orion cautiously just in case another of those creatures were on board. When they reached the hallway Ursa let out a sigh, thankful to see Cel up and talking. She placed her pistol back in its holster and crossed her arms, about to comment on Cel's last words when Orion turned to Ursa implying that he desired his jacket back. She smiled almost too sweetly, pulling it off her shoulders as she handed it to him, "Of course. I feel much better. Thanks for letting me use it." As he reached to take it, she pulled it away slightly watching him extremely carefully before she released it to him, noting his slight insistence. Interesting. She had already snooped in the pockets, making note of each of the items inside, but not removing them. She then turned to Cel and placed her hands on her hips, "Now you! What the hell happened Cel? I found you passed out on the floor and the golden alien your talking about just above you. I almost shot it before it entered your body!" She held out a hand to Xael, hoping to help her up as she waited for Cel to respond. Cel watched as Ursa and Orion walked into the room. "Ursa… Sorry I don't know what happened. I was telling Xeal here about what I just experienced. I still don't really understand it." Cel did his best to recap what had just happened to him. Saying everything out loud though made everything seem like a fever dream. The fuck was Golden Experience? He looked at Orion who seemed to give him a strange look. "Look, I'm not talking about some sexual bullshit if that's what you're thinking." He gave Orion a dirty look. "Anyways. I don't know if that makes any sense but, that's all I remember." Ursa tried to stifle a laugh as he talked about the Golden Experience, imagining exactly what he didn't want them to see, before speaking, "Well..I've never heard of a creature that is capable of performing such a feat, but it seems as though this creature doesn't wish to harm you which is a good sign. Although it did knock you out and changed your hair." She placed her hands on her hips, "And this is the first time you've ever seen this thing?" At the mention of his hair, Cel ran his hands through and looked at what he was able to see. Most of it was black at this point, but he could see that it started to fade back into blond. Everything was so confusing right now and nothing made sense. He could see Ursa trying to not laugh and it looked like the others were holding back a giggle as well. This started to piss him off. Cel stood up then walked to the other side of the room. "If you're not going to believe me then maybe I can show you." He grumbled then took a deep breath. "Golden Experience!" He yelled and stuck a pose. The golden like figure fazed right in front of Cel and posed just like Cel did. "Holy fuck it worked!" Cel took a step back. "Can all Yakuza do this or is it just me?" He thought to himself. Ursa jumped back as the creature came out, also slightly surprised that it worked, "What the hell! That thing is freaky Cel! Are you sure it won't hurt you?" She kept her hand poised at her hip, preparing to shoot the creature if need be. Cel watched as Ursa placed her hand on her hip. "I have no idea if it'll hurt me or not but, it might hurt you so you might not want to pull that out." Cel motioned to her hip then got out of his pose. With that, the stand disappeared back into him. "Look all I know is shit's weird and someone owes me some jugs. Normally I don't care about that but, right now, I feel it's okay for me to ask that. Ursa brought her hands away from her gun, waving them slightly to imply that she was being friendly. Her expression dropped as she raised an eyebrow, "You better be careful, having a parasite like that attached to you. I don't know where he came from, but we don't necessarily have the time to deal with it, after what just happened. Also, try not to die! If the head of the Yakuza dies on my watch, my rep is blown." At his mention of her boobs, she shrugged, pulling up her shirt quickly to give him a quick glance before she laughed, "Not that special really. Keep it for your spank bank bud, cause you ain't ever getting to see em again." She walked up smacking him on the shoulder before she winked at Xael, "I better get back to watching out for pirates. Once we get to your ship Orion, I have to call my crew. They probably think I'm long dead now." She pointed for Cel to follow her, "I need a minute with him alone first. Sorry guys. Just a quick business meeting." As she headed back into the cockpit she turned to Cel with a serious expression, "Now that it's just the two of us. What do you make of them? The girl seems innocent enough but I find it's suspicious that the general there knew that ship's build and just happened to be on Phobos. His story makes sense but honestly, Phobos being targeted is ridiculous. Other than the Yakuza and the Draconians, the place was a shithole." She rubbed her eyes and looked back out at window, "Also..are you okay? I didn't lose anybody on that rock, but I know a lot of your men just lost their lives out there. Good guys. I don't want to upset you, but that must be hard..." Cel walked with Ursa back to the cockpit and listened to what she had to say. "Yeah, I don't really trust that Orion guy but then again I only just met him. I want to trust Xael, but again we just met her and in a very strange way. Back to Orion though I think he is hiding way more than he is letting on and until I can get all the info out of him, I will never trust him." He thought for a bit after she brought up Phobos. It was strange that Phobos was targeted for an attack like that. All that was really on Phobos was an abundance of criminals and then also a hub for trades. "I want to know more about the ship that attacked us. Maybe then we will learn about what the hell happened. I do still think that Orion has more to tell us but then again he probably wont say anything to us. We need to gain his trust." This was the first time he thought about the rest of his group since the explosion. He did lose a lot of good men but he didn't really want to think about it. "I'll be okay. I don't know who all lived or died but all I can hope is that someone made it to my ship and lived. Let's just finish this mission." He held back a tear then walked off to see how the others were doing. Ursa nodded quietly, "I'm glad we are on the same page about Orion. Keep an eye out and if you learn anything let me know. I'd rather have someone scratching my back out there if ya know what I mean. Same goes for Xael, there is something about her thats different. I can feel it." She watched as his expression changed at her comment and felt for the guy. She didn't want to be the one to remind him of his loss but he needed to face the possibility now before they were on Orion's turf. He needed to keep his head in the game, so to speak. She gave him a quick nod, "Alright. If you need to talk about it. I'll listen man." She watched as he headed back to the others, making sure he was gone before she turned back to the control panel. She hit her vid-com trying to see if she could get a signal, knowing full well it was impossible. She slumped in her seat after the dial tone disappeared, digging her hands in her hair. She began to think, about her predicament and how she would be able to stay on top of this disaster, watching for pirates lurking behind the stars.</s>	<\|message\|>Xael [Zay-Uhl] Niahm [Knee-Am] Xael watched as Cel came to and Ursa and Orion arrived shortly after. She listened as Cel began to explain what it was was going on, or at least what he thought he was. Ursa seemed to have seen the weird being too, and Xael's eyebrows furrowed together, not quite understanding. Xael looked up and saw Ursa holding her hand out to her, and she grabbed it to stand up. Once she was up, Cel began to make some weird pose, and the golden being shot out from his body, mimicking his stance. Xael gasped slightly, taking a step back until she bumped into the wall behind her. "That's... something," she said, slightly confused. "Well, your hair is going back to normal anyway..." Xael took a close look at Cel's face for a moment, then looked away as Ursa dismissed herself to speak with Cel. Xael turned then to Orion, looking at him quietly for a moment. "When will we be arriving at your ship? We should be almost there, shouldn't we?"</s>
<\|description\|>Maggie Rogers Nickname(s)/Alias(es): Mags, Magsie, or Magster. She was called Sugie ("shoo-gē") at early childhood, much like her brother's nickname, but now refuses to be called this, as it seems to vex her. Gender: Female. Hair Color: "Sun-Kissed" Brown. Eye Color: Hazel. Sexuality: Bi-curious Lesbian Occupation(s): Part-Time Waitress; Part-Time Daycare Helper; Amateur Sleuth. Affiliation: Mystery Inc. Family: - Samuel Chastain-Rogers (father) - Wendy Rogers (mother) - Norville "Shaggy" Rogers (brother) - Gaggy Rogers (uncle) - Albert Shaggleford (uncle) - Salty Rogers (uncle) - Henry Rogers (uncle) - Tawny Rogers (cousin) - Jamison Willikers (cousin) - Stetson Rogers (cousin) - Betty-Lou (cousin) - McBaggy Rogers (ancestor) - Jack "Dapper" Rogers (ancestor) Personality: Maggie is the third-only person in Shaggy's life, to possess similar traits: Though somewhat of an airhead, she's a good soul, whose kindness, patience, and remarkable tolerance allows her to deal with chaos, whilst having to seek out the positive parts of an issue; a dominant trait, inherited from their mother. The opposite to her brother's cowardly, laid-back personality, Maggie is energetic, courageous and, strangely, mature (since her air headedness doesn't seem to make up for it, at all). Since birth, she and her older brother are very close, with Shaggy describing her as 'his favorite human person in the whole world'. While they are very different, and have their moments on deciding an activity, or a course of action, they will both enjoy, or agree upon, Maggie is aware of his likes, dislikes, and restrictions, therefore she always takes them to consideration. However, when it really comes down to it, sometimes, her seriousness doesn't help. They definitely share a chemistry in culinary arts, either with the goal of becoming restaurant hosts, or general chefs; according to them: "She's the proud cooker, while he's the proud eater". This shared love is expressed whenever she surprises Shaggy with his favorite, bizarre food choices, albeit she would politely refuse to eat them herself. Skills & Abilities: - Handling Children (especially those who act like them). - Talented Cook. - Great Resourcefulness. - Athleticism (Running, Jumping, etc.). Portrayed By: Jennifer Garner (adult)</s> <\|message\|>Maggie Rogers Broken? Broken. Well, it's not like it happens every day, but once tensions increase, it does take a drastic turn. Egos, competition, and drama. Maggie saw it coming, but this time, she didn't. Mystery Inc., a team of amateur sleuths, investigating supernatural and paranormal phenomena, has been broken up. Again. Fred with his ego, Daphne with her drama, and Velma with her self-esteem; it was a clash that drove them apart from time-to-time. Her brother Norville tried to patch and brighten things up, but as a result, it seemed to have unintentionally gotten worse. It has been two years since the case of the Luna Ghost, and they've gone their separate ways. She, Scooby, and Shaggy tried to make the best of it: Spice up the Mystery Machine, take trips to the beach, make barbecues; "another day in paradise", as her brother would call it. But it still wasn't the same. They used to do this, all the time with the rest of the gang. But by themselves? Their absence was becoming difficult to adjust. Not to mention that Dianna, Fae, and Maggie were close friends, bringing another layer of loneliness upon the female Rogers. These days, she would often force a smile in Shaggy's direction, or give a bright idea to distract themselves, but the heart, surrounding their tight band of friends has been ripped in half. It truly hasn't been very fulfilling these past two years. They didn't think they would ever see each other again, but having to suddenly receive a request from Emile Mondavarious, there was an opportunity to get away from the grief. As usual, Shaggy would reject the idea at first, but once an "All-You-Can-Eat" buffet was mentioned, a "what the heck, why not?" came, right after. Plus, Maggie really wanted to get away from their hometown; the same place where there were lots of beautiful memories regarding their "once-friends". The drive to the airport wasn't long, and finding the gate was easy: Just spot a displayed poster that says "Come Visit Spooky Island". And, what no better way than to run into the rest of the gang once you get there? Fred was there, as well as Velma, but no sign of Daphne. However, seven purple bags towered on a cart, which became too obvious; by the reception desk, a familiar red-head complaining about the rule of having no more than two carry-on bags. "What do I can't have seven carry-on bags? That is so economy!"</s> <\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. After everything sort of... exploded; Fae was kind of, left alone. She never vocalized her sadness of it all, she just kept her head down and continued on her work. It was easier to ignore this way, just put your head down in the office and focus mainly on whatever you were tinkering on or what code you were making. After the massive falling out, she was reluctant to hang out with her cousin, but... She was the closest family at this point, so much that Fae even took the small amount of stuff she had with her and moved in with Daphne. Fae often kept to herself even when they were living together, she got her own room and due to Maggie and Dianna never contacted her anymore she just sort of... stayed there. Daphne would often pull her out and around, and she simply allowed it. There was no use arguing with her cousin, she got dramatic when things didn't go her way. --- Dianna's love of life sort of fizzled out when the group split, she spent the first month just staying in her room by herself. She often forgot to eat or drink, which caused her to get sick and very thin to the point where she was sent to stay with Velma due to it. Velma helped Dianna get at least a bit happier again, but she wasn't as energetic as she used to be. They started to take more trips to the museum to see the new things that popped up, which easily helped her mood- especially the dinosaurs. She stopped making so many costumes after things went south for the Mystery Inc; she took leave from her work, which she was allowed. She had enough holiday leave to just have a couple months off, that and she was close to her boss- who understood what was happening. Things were... happening at least. --- As Daphne complained about her carry-on bags, Fae wanted to sink into the ground and disappear. "Look," She said turning to her cousin, "I don't have any carry-on bags, can I take two of hers?" She asked as she looked to the receptionist. She turned back towards Daphne before she furrowed her brow, "Daph, just... Focus on the trip okay? I'm sure we can get these into the luggage bay, you don't really need everything on the trolley right?" She asked with a raised eyebrow. Fae wore a loose fitting Jurassic Park tee that was given to her by Dianna after a marathon that the girls had done; a massively fond memory that she would never forget about. Even if she would never see them, she would at least have a few things to remember them by. She gave a bit of a yawn as she waited for Daph to stop complaining about the carry-on; she was woken up pretty early to leave. She wasn't a fan of being up at the moment, she wanted to be back home tinkering with things but she looked forward for the island. Dianna looked over towards the large tower of bags and she felt her stomach sink. She looked over to Velma with a worried look to check if she had noticed the tower as well. She looked around more, she swore she had seen Fred walking around too, but she didn't trust her eyesight. Maybe she was just missing them more than ever? Who knows. She just wanted her friends back.</s> <\|message\|>Maggie Rogers Having to come from a wealthy family, Daphne was pretty straightforward on the concept of being prepared; in this case, fashion-wise. Having her cousin (and closest friend) along for the ride, she felt that Fae should really be thanking her, considering that this was the perfect getaway for the both of them, and that her stuff was in, at least, two of the bags. The red-head looked at her, after leaning against the receptionist desk, and rolled her eyes, behind her sunglasses. Before she could say anything else, she spotted Velma, standing with Dianna, and immediately expressed disbelief. What is this? Why are they here? She tipped her sunglasses down a little and, as if eyes were felt, the nerd returned her stare. "Velma?", a voice called, appearing in the distance of them. "Fred?", she answered, feeling a bit awkward and confused. Velma looked back at Daphne, who pretended to mind her own business, and didn't just see her former colleague. Right place, wrong time? "Daph?", he called out, showing confusion as well. Having to get over her state, said-red head straightened up at the desk with Fae. "I'm not talking to you guys", she told them, having to make a zipping motion over her mouth, and throw away 'the key'. However, no matter how much she tries to ignore them, Daphne couldn't hold back a demand for an explanation. "What the heck are you doing here?", said-demand came. "Isn't it obvious? We all got the same invite by Emile Mondavarious, the reclusive owner of Spooky Island", Velma answered, although it clearly was something that the rich heiress did not want to hear, judging by how she pouted. "That's not fair!", she complained, stomping her pink-heeled boot on the ground, frowning. "We were gonna solve a mystery by ourselves for the first time ever!" Fred was more amused than agreeable. "How are you gonna solve it yourselves after you get caught?", he asked, wondering what her plan was gonna be, if her danger-prone tendencies got in the way. Daphne put her hands on her hips, straightening up. "I'm a black belt now. I've now transformed my body into a dangerous weapon", she was serious, but like every time, it was taken as a joke by the gang. Fred and Velma chuckled in amusement at her determination. "What? It's true", Daphne insisted, holding onto her pride. "Not to mention that I taught Bella a few things too". "What is this?", another voice commented aloud, in the distance, almost delighted to see the gang back together again, though seemingly. The three of them heard the voice of Shaggy's little sister, and had their attention towards her, as she approached them with a grin; Shaggy following behind. "Looks like we're all going to Spooky Island, man!", he said, having to surprisingly give off a rather happy disposition, even though he was about ready to have a panic attack a few hours earlier. Amazing how much of mentioning a simple food buffet would brighten his spirits!</s> <\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Fae winced when Daphne called her by her first name, uttering out a quiet "It's... Fae." She uttered as she looked at the ground. She hesitated before looking up to everyone else with a weak smile, leaning against the Bags slightly with a sigh. She watched Daphne, Fred and Velma all talk, avoiding a glance towards Dianna- as she did the same. Her head shot up as she heard the voice of the female Rogers, her eyes widened with happiness as she tried to hide it; although by the sudden smile on her face was a massive give away. "Is there something wrong with working in numbers anyway?" Dianna finally piped up as she glanced between the original team of Mystery Inc, finishing her look towards Daphne, "I know things went south, we all know." She continued before she closed her eyes and moved to grip the bridge of her nose, "I feel like we should just... Try and put the past behind us and enjoy this trip." She opened her eyes as she looked between Fae and Maggie. "For the good of old times, for the good of friendship." Fae nodded slightly at Dianna's words, her eyes moving towards Maggie before she watched her and Shaggy. She hesitated before she mouthed 'Where's Scoob?', hoping she could see the words completely. She stayed quiet as everyone else talked, she didn't want to butt in, she just wanted their friendships to be mended, as if it was that easy.</s>	<\|message\|>Maggie Rogers "Where's Scoob?", Fred asked them. "Aloha!", as if on cue, the talking dog himself was seen clumsily walking towards the gate in what seems to be a woman's outfit, with a hat and heels, causing quite an amount of attention from the crowd. "They won't allow big dogs on the plane", Shaggy explained. "So, we came up with this", his sister added, with an embarrassed smile. "Clearly, not my best work", this was Shaggy's idea, and all Maggie could do was look away in embarrassment at the scene, though was chuckling on the inside. By the time the talking, disguised dog made his way over, Maggie continued to smile, not having to gather the tension in the air between the three former team members. Once she caught sight of her close friends, she made up by giving a hug to Dianna, before making her way over to Fae. She thought that it would be pleasant, considering that everyone was together in one place, but it was only when she looked at their faces that she managed to recognize the awkwardness and unease, which caused her to eventually frown. Being somewhat of an airhead had its perks: The female Rogers had the tendency to get very carried away with the things and people she enjoyed, to the point where she does not seem to read non-verbal cues. However, give her a second of two, and she'll catch up. "Listen", Velma piped up. "I wouldn't have agreed to come if I knew you were", she said, a croak in her voice, causing Fred and Daph to glance at the ground, already thinking about abandoning the invite, and pretend they never saw each other. Maggie wanted to console the bespectacled young woman, but that was until Dianna decided to speak. "Yeah", Shaggy agreed to the young woman's words. "Think about it for one minute: Mystery Inc reunites. We'll be a team again, just like the old days", he said, hoping that it would help mend some of the tension. The three seemed to be thinking it over, glancing to the ground, but still avoiding to look at each other. That was when the receptionist called for those boarding to Spooky Island. "I'm only in, if they are", Daphne said, not having to feel content on working with her former colleagues. It was at that point, that Fred rolled his eyes, and walked to the entrance of the gate, with Velma reluctantly following after. The red-head moved next, after putting her sunglasses back on. "Come on, Fae"</s>
<\|description\|>Maggie Rogers Nickname(s)/Alias(es): Mags, Magsie, or Magster. She was called Sugie ("shoo-gē") at early childhood, much like her brother's nickname, but now refuses to be called this, as it seems to vex her. Gender: Female. Hair Color: "Sun-Kissed" Brown. Eye Color: Hazel. Sexuality: Bi-curious Lesbian Occupation(s): Part-Time Waitress; Part-Time Daycare Helper; Amateur Sleuth. Affiliation: Mystery Inc. Family: - Samuel Chastain-Rogers (father) - Wendy Rogers (mother) - Norville "Shaggy" Rogers (brother) - Gaggy Rogers (uncle) - Albert Shaggleford (uncle) - Salty Rogers (uncle) - Henry Rogers (uncle) - Tawny Rogers (cousin) - Jamison Willikers (cousin) - Stetson Rogers (cousin) - Betty-Lou (cousin) - McBaggy Rogers (ancestor) - Jack "Dapper" Rogers (ancestor) Personality: Maggie is the third-only person in Shaggy's life, to possess similar traits: Though somewhat of an airhead, she's a good soul, whose kindness, patience, and remarkable tolerance allows her to deal with chaos, whilst having to seek out the positive parts of an issue; a dominant trait, inherited from their mother. The opposite to her brother's cowardly, laid-back personality, Maggie is energetic, courageous and, strangely, mature (since her air headedness doesn't seem to make up for it, at all). Since birth, she and her older brother are very close, with Shaggy describing her as 'his favorite human person in the whole world'. While they are very different, and have their moments on deciding an activity, or a course of action, they will both enjoy, or agree upon, Maggie is aware of his likes, dislikes, and restrictions, therefore she always takes them to consideration. However, when it really comes down to it, sometimes, her seriousness doesn't help. They definitely share a chemistry in culinary arts, either with the goal of becoming restaurant hosts, or general chefs; according to them: "She's the proud cooker, while he's the proud eater". This shared love is expressed whenever she surprises Shaggy with his favorite, bizarre food choices, albeit she would politely refuse to eat them herself. Skills & Abilities: - Handling Children (especially those who act like them). - Talented Cook. - Great Resourcefulness. - Athleticism (Running, Jumping, etc.). Portrayed By: Jennifer Garner (adult)</s> <\|message\|>Maggie Rogers "Where's Scoob?", Fred asked them. "Aloha!", as if on cue, the talking dog himself was seen clumsily walking towards the gate in what seems to be a woman's outfit, with a hat and heels, causing quite an amount of attention from the crowd. "They won't allow big dogs on the plane", Shaggy explained. "So, we came up with this", his sister added, with an embarrassed smile. "Clearly, not my best work", this was Shaggy's idea, and all Maggie could do was look away in embarrassment at the scene, though was chuckling on the inside. By the time the talking, disguised dog made his way over, Maggie continued to smile, not having to gather the tension in the air between the three former team members. Once she caught sight of her close friends, she made up by giving a hug to Dianna, before making her way over to Fae. She thought that it would be pleasant, considering that everyone was together in one place, but it was only when she looked at their faces that she managed to recognize the awkwardness and unease, which caused her to eventually frown. Being somewhat of an airhead had its perks: The female Rogers had the tendency to get very carried away with the things and people she enjoyed, to the point where she does not seem to read non-verbal cues. However, give her a second of two, and she'll catch up. "Listen", Velma piped up. "I wouldn't have agreed to come if I knew you were", she said, a croak in her voice, causing Fred and Daph to glance at the ground, already thinking about abandoning the invite, and pretend they never saw each other. Maggie wanted to console the bespectacled young woman, but that was until Dianna decided to speak. "Yeah", Shaggy agreed to the young woman's words. "Think about it for one minute: Mystery Inc reunites. We'll be a team again, just like the old days", he said, hoping that it would help mend some of the tension. The three seemed to be thinking it over, glancing to the ground, but still avoiding to look at each other. That was when the receptionist called for those boarding to Spooky Island. "I'm only in, if they are", Daphne said, not having to feel content on working with her former colleagues. It was at that point, that Fred rolled his eyes, and walked to the entrance of the gate, with Velma reluctantly following after. The red-head moved next, after putting her sunglasses back on. "Come on, Fae"</s> <\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. At the sight of Scooby, Dianna only let out a small chuckle at the costume. Sure, it wasn't the best, but it was at least a decent effort! "Honestly," she started as she looked towards Scooby and Shaggy, "It's not terrible, I'm proud of you guys." She continued before she looked towards Maggie as she came to hug her, Dianna gave a gentle hug to her before she watched her head over towards Fae. Fae was frozen on the spot for a moment as Maggie got close to her, when she wrapped her arms around her Fae failed to hold back her emotions as she pulled Maggie into a big hug and leaned her forehead against Maggie's head. She had missed this, she had been so alone this entire time. Sure she had Daphne but Daphne wasn't one to talk to her about the stuff the others would; Maggie loved to talk about food, and would listen when she rambled about her mechanic work or coding details, and she and Dianna easily debated either or not they could make a fully articulate monster with the abilities of all three of them. Fae let go of Maggie as everyone started talking again, before everyone slowly just... moved along. Dianna followed after Velma quickly, watching her cousin before she moved to grip her arm gently. "Everything will be okay." She whispered to Velma with a small smile. Fae looked over to Daphne as she told her to follow her. She nodded once as she started to follow, moving to pull the baggage cart along behind her. She sighed to herself, she had a feeling that Daphne would be holding her back from seeing her old friends... The only people she had ever been close to. She moved to fix her shirt awkwardly before she fixed over her sidebag with all of her gadget tools and her current smaller project.</s> <\|message\|>Maggie Rogers Velma has always been the most-emotional, so she was actually very glad and grateful that she had someone like Dianna. Probably her closest relative, aside from her own parents, she could always entrust the other like a sister, even though they didn't live in the same house, growing up. However, they always found time to talk on the phone, and bond. From them on, since childhood, they've been sticking to each other by the hip, sharing a multitude of intellectual interests...although Dianna was the most-artistic, out of the two. Giving her cousin a sad smile, she took a deep breath, and proceeded on boarding. Scooby whimpered, as Maggie looked at the ground, having to feel slightly disappointed and saddened, that she couldn't enjoy the moment any longer, before heading onto another grand adventure. However, instead of a heartfelt reunion, it remained the same, since they broke up, two years ago - distant, shallow, and "shoulder-chipped", as if they were complete strangers, all over again...before they met in high school. Shaggy walked next to her, and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, and brought her in to comfort her, by the time they and the dog eventually followed. In the plane, due to the rows having only three seats, most of the gang had to be split up in various directions, although they were all close to one another, and not far away; therefore, it was a packed flight. Internally, they were all pretty glad they didn't have to talk to each other the entire flight. Maggie was seated with Fae and Dianna in one row, in front of Fred and Velma, and next to the row that had contained Shaggy and Scooby. It was complicated to sort out, but it was easy to find everyone, considering that they were all near each other. Reading a book - a cookbook, apparently - that she managed to grab from one of the stores in the airport, Maggie managed to keep her eyes on the pages, despite the loud noise, although she did take occasional glances at Shaggy, who seemed to be talking to a pretty blonde girl, next to him. With her hand still up, in order for the guy in the next seat to get out of her line of sight, Daphne kept her eyes on a magazine, completely ignoring the dude trying to hit on her. It felt good to sit with her close friends, despite the awkwardness - so she decided to break the ice. "So, how are you both doing? Taking it okay?"</s> <\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Dianna smiled back to Velma and continued onto the plane, putting her stuff into the appropriate places before she sat down at the end of the aisle before she noticed that Fae and Maggie would be sitting by her. She held her breath for a moment as she watched them, pulling out a small sketchbook to put on her lap to sketch in, in case the others don't want to talk. Fae let Daphne and the Roger siblings on before her, smiling to the air hostess as she got on and headed to her seat, allowing Maggie to go into the middle of them. She sat down after she put her bags away as well before she sat down at the end, giving a small wave towards Scooby as he sat with Shaggy. Fae almost jumped as Maggie broke the ice to speak, she let out a squeak before she let out a small laugh. Dianna gave a small chuckle as well as she shook her head. "It's been terrible." Dianna started, looking towards Maggie, and then Fae. "I mean, I've been helping Velma as much as I can, taking her out places to keep her mind off things but it doesn't help my mind." She continued as she moved to grip the bridge of her nose. "After it all happened I sort of just... Shut down, I got incredibly depressive, things got... Terrible for me." She admitted before she feigned a small smile, something that she was known for. Fae stopped laughing before she looked into her lap weakly, "I... Know that feeling." She said as her right hand instinctively moved to rub her left wrist, which was adorned with a small cloth bracelet, that covered the majority of her wrist. "It's been... Lonely." She started as well, not looking up from her lap, "Daph took me in, she took care of me. But... nothing just felt right. I never had any other friends, I had co-workers, but I disliked talking about work stuff outside of work." Fae glanced to Maggie with a tilt of her head, "I see you're still the cook you always have been?" She asked with a bit of a grin, trying to brighten the air around them.</s>	<\|message\|>Maggie Rogers Maggie, admittedly, did not expect herself to be sitting in between two of her most closest friends. It was a rather surprising thing to find herself in, but she wasn't one to complain about such things. Usually, with complete strangers, she would keep to herself, and let time fly, but...in this case, these two individuals were, like, sisters to her. As of right now, she was listening to their confessions, having to show empathy in her eyes, as she always does. However, she frowned slightly when Dianna pulled off that smile; the same one that would conceal what she was really feeling. Her words were not matching her eyes. She was no expert in Dianna's field, but the female Rogers could tell that, despite the smile, there was a different kind of emotion in the other's eyes; the same kind that Fae was expressing profoundly. They missed the presence of those who accepted them for who they were, and built a solid relationship with. The breakup only discouraged the comfort that they once had, creating an emotional rift in the heart, and ripping it in two. To reciprocate these feelings (and show she wasn't being fooled), Maggie placed a comforting hand upon her arm, before trailing it up to wrap it around her shoulders, so Dianna could lean against her. Rogers just couldn't stand the fact that the ones she deeply cared for, were feeling this way. It seemed that while Dianna was trying, as much as she can, to help her cousin, she wasn't taking the time to take care of herself. Having to be aware of preference, interest, and priority, Maggie respected their paths in life, but then, their own well-being had to be looked after, and she felt it to be right to step in. Looking over at the other girl, having to give her a small smile, and a chuckle. "You should see me. Been working on a new recipe; one of our grandmother's favorites", she said. "Haven't found the time to cook it, but maybe after this trip, you are more than welcome to try it", she grinned, leaving her cookbook in her lap, as she brought over a hand to move a piece of hair out of Fae's face. Hearing a barking sound, she turned to find Scooby barking at a cat that was near him, shortly until the creature made a run for it, causing the talking dog to compulsively give chase. "Sit grandma! Bad grandma! Don't eat the kitty!", Shaggy shouted, causing Maggie to cover her eyes, and groan. This was going to be a long flight, but after a few hours, the plane finally landed. After arriving at the airport, Maggie placed her book back in the bag she stored above her. Apart from Scooby, having to nearly give himself away, she took the time to give comfort to Dianna and Fae, having to tell them stories of her and Norville's endeavors these past two years; at the same time, also admitting her own feelings of loneliness to them. It wasn't the same without them, since their time of bonding seemed to make it look like they knew each forever. However, whether if it became something more, she couldn't really say, even though all three of them shared an interest, and/or felt comfort, around women. Although Maggie has been experimenting with the opposite gender these past few months. Wherever their hearts were, Rogers kept it to herself, and will support them, no matter what. Having to board a ferry, which would take them to the actual resort, Maggie felt the need to side with her companions during the entire journey, while at the same time, she smelled something fishy - not literally. Why invite all of them?</s>
<\|description\|>Maggie Rogers Nickname(s)/Alias(es): Mags, Magsie, or Magster. She was called Sugie ("shoo-gē") at early childhood, much like her brother's nickname, but now refuses to be called this, as it seems to vex her. Gender: Female. Hair Color: "Sun-Kissed" Brown. Eye Color: Hazel. Sexuality: Bi-curious Lesbian Occupation(s): Part-Time Waitress; Part-Time Daycare Helper; Amateur Sleuth. Affiliation: Mystery Inc. Family: - Samuel Chastain-Rogers (father) - Wendy Rogers (mother) - Norville "Shaggy" Rogers (brother) - Gaggy Rogers (uncle) - Albert Shaggleford (uncle) - Salty Rogers (uncle) - Henry Rogers (uncle) - Tawny Rogers (cousin) - Jamison Willikers (cousin) - Stetson Rogers (cousin) - Betty-Lou (cousin) - McBaggy Rogers (ancestor) - Jack "Dapper" Rogers (ancestor) Personality: Maggie is the third-only person in Shaggy's life, to possess similar traits: Though somewhat of an airhead, she's a good soul, whose kindness, patience, and remarkable tolerance allows her to deal with chaos, whilst having to seek out the positive parts of an issue; a dominant trait, inherited from their mother. The opposite to her brother's cowardly, laid-back personality, Maggie is energetic, courageous and, strangely, mature (since her air headedness doesn't seem to make up for it, at all). Since birth, she and her older brother are very close, with Shaggy describing her as 'his favorite human person in the whole world'. While they are very different, and have their moments on deciding an activity, or a course of action, they will both enjoy, or agree upon, Maggie is aware of his likes, dislikes, and restrictions, therefore she always takes them to consideration. However, when it really comes down to it, sometimes, her seriousness doesn't help. They definitely share a chemistry in culinary arts, either with the goal of becoming restaurant hosts, or general chefs; according to them: "She's the proud cooker, while he's the proud eater". This shared love is expressed whenever she surprises Shaggy with his favorite, bizarre food choices, albeit she would politely refuse to eat them herself. Skills & Abilities: - Handling Children (especially those who act like them). - Talented Cook. - Great Resourcefulness. - Athleticism (Running, Jumping, etc.). Portrayed By: Jennifer Garner (adult)</s> <\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Dianna felt her cheeks flushed before she moved her head onto Maggie's shoulder, she let out a long gentle sigh as her body seemed to suddenly just relax in the female Rogers shoulder. She looked over towards Fae as she spoke before locking eyes with the bracelet around her hand; why was she wearing something like that? Fae had never been one for jewelry, especially any sort of bracelets. Dianna's eyes moved away as Maggie started to talk before she smiled. "I'd love to come over if you'd allow us over." She said with a small smile, "I'm guessing Shaggy isn't... being as strict as the cousins?" She asked, motioning with her eyes slowly to Velma and Daphne, "I mean, Velma has been... Okay, but she's been iffy on allowing me to contact you guys." Fae flinched when Maggie moved to brush a bit of hair out of her face, her face deepened red before she looked away slightly. She noticed herself fumbling with her small bracelet around her wrists; a small bit moved out of the way and revealed what looked to be a small scar. "I... Ended up breaking my old phone." She admitted, which is why she never contacted the other girls, "After everything, after Daph and I got home I kind of just... Blew up at her. We yelled, I cried, She cried... I then locked myself in the bedroom for..." She trailed off before she heard the barks from Scooby. Dianna couldn't help but smiling as she watched Scooby bark at a cat, "He never changes." She said softly, she watched everything unfold before she returned her eyes on Fae's wrist for a moment. As the plane landed and getting to the airport, Dianna glanced towards Velma with a small smile. She offered her cousin a thumbs up before she turned to Maggie and Fae with a bigger smile. She was over the moon to have her friends back in her life, she never expressed it to anyone, but she adored her friends to the point where she felt like it was something more then just friendship. Dianna remembered she had never really been in a proper relationship before, especially not with another woman. Unknown to the other two girls, Fae was feeling the same. She had some girlfriends in the past, but they never turned out into a long term relationship; even more so with her relationships with men. She never had a problem with men, especially since she was a tomboy; she used to be the 'guy' in her lesbian relationships, which she was fine with. The ferry ride made Fae a bit worried, which showed on her face. She had never really been on a boat for a while, she worried about getting seasick. She fiddled with her bracelet and her top more, before Dianna moved and grabbed her wrist gently. She lifted her hand up to her face and looked at the bracelet. Fae stared towards Dianna as she knew what she was trying to look at, before she pulled her hand away to point towards a bird flying across. "Look!" Fae called out with a bigger grin, the Seabird flew along near the boat.</s> <\|message\|>Maggie Rogers "Trust me, aside from all of being engulfed in my cooking, he actually felt, from time to time, that we should have company; to enjoy the meals I cook for everyone. It's been quite lonely as of late when we don't have anyone over", Rogers admitted sadly. "We figured that you guys were busy, so we feasted alone", she added. Then, the admittance came. They couldn't reach them, due to circumstance, as much as they wanted to. "I'm sorry", she said to them both, giving her condolences. Considering that Maggie was the tallest out of the three, she sat and stood between them for a majority of the trip, as she normally was, during their time together. It just seemed right, considering that Rogers felt the need to put most of her attention on them, especially after she learned that Fae and Dianna were in a rough place for a long time, since their separation. There was a lot of catching up to do, in regards to their relationship, and Maggie was sure that she was going to help them get back on their feet after falling. Unfortunately, Maggie was not an entirely observant person; one of her few flaws, so whatever Dianna was able to find out, she was completely unaware. Looking over the side of the ferry, leaning on the railing, on the other side of Fae, Maggie let the gentle breeze go through her hair. Spotting the bird, she smiled, shortly before she caught sight of what was ahead: A complete theme park, covering the entire island landmass! It was a spectacle to behold! She decided to give Fae a hand with Daphne's bags, since seven was a bit much. Daph wasn't the type of woman to do pretty much everything by herself and, not that Rogers had anything against that, but it was the usual, since everybody in the gang had their perks. Once the ferry managed to reach the pier, they were soon engulfed by a crowd of college students. To make sure they didn't get separated (again), Maggie stayed close with the other girls. "Welcome to Spooky Island!", a voice announced. "The frightfully-fun Spring Break resort for college students. Catch our Electrical Torture Parade; it's a dead world, after all! And don't forget to try our world-famous Splatterhorn!", a statue continued to share the news up to the newcomers, having to wave its arms around. "Scooby Doo! And the rest of Mystery Inc.! How marvelous it is to see you!", unfortunately, in the midst of his own excitement, he accidentally hit a few people walking by; the operator losing control over the mechanics. "Oh my goodness! I'm so sorry!" "This ghastly thing...", a man said in displeasure, as soon as he stepped out of the movable statue he had been occupying for the past half hour. Walking towards the gang, he smiled. "My apologies. It's a new toy; still trying to get up to speed with it. Anyway, welcome!". he said, reaching forward to shake Fred's hand. "I'm Emile Mondavarious; the owner of this amusement park", he introduced himself. "You seem less...", Velma piped up, almost a little skeptical. "Spooky", Shaggy added, mainly as a mental note for himself. "...than we would have guessed", the intelligent girl finished, still showing a face of slight disbelief. "You're the one who brought us here?" "Oh, no. What brought you here, is you're insatiable appetite for a juicy mystery", he responded; Maggie's eyes narrowing a little at the remark.</s> <\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. "You have no reason to be sorry!" Fae blurted out as Maggie apologized for not inviting them, "You had no real reason to know." She said, Dianna giving a nod. The two girls kind of just stayed quiet while they got closer to the island before they saw the island. Fae's eyes suddenly lit up at the sight of everything. "You're not allowed to pull anything apart." Dianna said offhandedly towards Fae, who shot her a childish glare, something that hadn't been done since the break up. Dianna gave a laugh and grinned towards Maggie, everything was so comfortable again; everything just felt... Good. As they walked onto the pier, Dianna wobbled slightly as she stepped off the boat, Fae moving quickly to help her friend with a grin, offering her hand towards Maggie to help her down too. As the crowd slowly gathered around them, Fae slowly slinked closer to her friends in mild fear of the large group of college students. She cleared her throat before her eyes were caught by the statue as they walked closer to it. As the man stepped out from behind it, her eyes lit up and she moved to step forward, Dianna moving to grab her shirt to pull her back. "Gauk!" Fae yelped as Dianna pulled her under her arm with a bigger grin. "She hasn't chanced has she?" Dianna said towards Maggie before she noticed her eyes narrowing. She looked towards the male before she looked him up and down almost quizzingly, "But you're the one who sent the letters right?" She asked after a bit of silence.</s>	<\|message\|>Maggie Rogers Maggie allowed Fae to help her down from the boat, although she did kind of lost a little bit of balance, due to being used to the swaying of the ferry. Thankfully, in only a few seconds, Rogers gained what she could of her bearings. She chuckled at the impulsive antics of the other girl, having to find this amusing. Good thing Dianna's reflexes were faster. "...oh, yes!", the owner said, after a pause of what the said-girl asked him, shortly before he signaled them to follow. Maggie didn't hesitate to follow after the man with the rest of the gang. At the same time, she wasn't really sure of what to make of him. He seemed friendly, but the earlier feeling that she had, back on the plane, was lingering. "Now, I am in great need of help. I believe that somebody here is casting a spell upon the students", he explained. "Have you noticed anything different between those arriving, and those departing?", he asked, giving them a moment to observe. Velma gazed at the departing line. "They look like regularly-behaved college students". "Precisely. But they haven't when they arrived", Emile explained. "The ones arriving seem normal; they're energetic and fun. But the ones departing, well...they weren't the same as when they had arrived". As if on cue, in the distance, one of the arriving male students approached a departing female, who he seemed to know for quite some time...until she suddenly assaulted him, surprisingly, in a physical sense. She lifted him off the ground by his shirt, and practically threw him, covering great distance! It was like she had superhuman strength! Maggie watched in disbelief, having to find it a little hard to believe that what she saw was real, and that Mondavarious may be right on his claim. Biting his lip, the owner turned to them. "I'm terrified for the young people here, and I don't want to lose this place. The people coming off of that barge; the people that I love most, they're in great danger. Will you help me?", the owner asked, nearly begging for their help. "I'm gonna solve this one first", Velma declared, already eager. "Not if I solve it first", Fred countered. "You guys are gonna look like total idiots when you're captured, and I'm the one saving you", Daphne said, having to already turn on her heel, and walk towards the hotel; the others not far behind. Maggie looked at the three, as they went their separate ways, frowning once more in disappointment. And so, the tension continued. Just like from two years ago. The mystery itself was intriguing, so Maggie put on her best smile, and turned to the man. "I'm sure you're doing great business here, Mister Mondavarious. We will do what we can here to help", she said, although at the same time, she was quite concerned, regarding the competition between the other three that may happen for the next few days. Shaggy looked at her, having to remain quiet and relaxed, not even bothering to get in the middle of the squabble; just letting it go. He tried to settle things last time, but it ended breaking them all up. So, he found it necessary to not try again, mainly due to his fear of making it worse. Plus, the brother knew that this was affecting his sister, no matter how hard she tried to hide it. Mondavarious was glad to hear their responses, having to sound relieved that he got some help. "This is marvelous! Just marvelous! I guess we should celebrate with a little Spookapalooza", he said. "S-S-Spookapalooza? Ruh-oh!", Scooby exclaimed, having to stutter at hearing the one word, hidden within the name. After she was happy to give the others help with their bags, Maggie found herself sharing a room with them. Due to the later weather turning warm yet humid, she changed into something for the evening: White tennis-shoes, a pair of bell-bottom jeans with a belt, and a red, sleeveless tank-top. The only thing missing, would be her denim jacket. Pieces of her long brown hair was still clipped back, while the rest still draping down to her back and mid-chest. Rogers was just walking into the two-person bathroom, until she spotted Fae standing in front of the sink, looking at her wrist. "You doing alright?"</s>
<\|description\|>Maggie Rogers Nickname(s)/Alias(es): Mags, Magsie, or Magster. She was called Sugie ("shoo-gē") at early childhood, much like her brother's nickname, but now refuses to be called this, as it seems to vex her. Gender: Female. Hair Color: "Sun-Kissed" Brown. Eye Color: Hazel. Sexuality: Bi-curious Lesbian Occupation(s): Part-Time Waitress; Part-Time Daycare Helper; Amateur Sleuth. Affiliation: Mystery Inc. Family: - Samuel Chastain-Rogers (father) - Wendy Rogers (mother) - Norville "Shaggy" Rogers (brother) - Gaggy Rogers (uncle) - Albert Shaggleford (uncle) - Salty Rogers (uncle) - Henry Rogers (uncle) - Tawny Rogers (cousin) - Jamison Willikers (cousin) - Stetson Rogers (cousin) - Betty-Lou (cousin) - McBaggy Rogers (ancestor) - Jack "Dapper" Rogers (ancestor) Personality: Maggie is the third-only person in Shaggy's life, to possess similar traits: Though somewhat of an airhead, she's a good soul, whose kindness, patience, and remarkable tolerance allows her to deal with chaos, whilst having to seek out the positive parts of an issue; a dominant trait, inherited from their mother. The opposite to her brother's cowardly, laid-back personality, Maggie is energetic, courageous and, strangely, mature (since her air headedness doesn't seem to make up for it, at all). Since birth, she and her older brother are very close, with Shaggy describing her as 'his favorite human person in the whole world'. While they are very different, and have their moments on deciding an activity, or a course of action, they will both enjoy, or agree upon, Maggie is aware of his likes, dislikes, and restrictions, therefore she always takes them to consideration. However, when it really comes down to it, sometimes, her seriousness doesn't help. They definitely share a chemistry in culinary arts, either with the goal of becoming restaurant hosts, or general chefs; according to them: "She's the proud cooker, while he's the proud eater". This shared love is expressed whenever she surprises Shaggy with his favorite, bizarre food choices, albeit she would politely refuse to eat them herself. Skills & Abilities: - Handling Children (especially those who act like them). - Talented Cook. - Great Resourcefulness. - Athleticism (Running, Jumping, etc.). Portrayed By: Jennifer Garner (adult)</s> <\|message\|>Maggie Rogers It made all the more sense for them to change their attires, since they were now in a more tropical setting, instead of the cool, suburban outskirts of their hometown. The island was nicely laid out, financially and theme-wise; it certainly had a vacation-feeling to it, being a resort and all, but everyone in the gang knew that this wasn't the time to treat it as such, especially since Velma, Daphne, and Fred would get too caught up in their ambition to a game of "one-up". However, that didn't mean that they couldn't try to blend, hence the reason why the three girls decided to change clothes, and settle in, before starting their investigation. Fae's instinctual response made Maggie narrow her eyes, and tilt her head. While Dianna was working out her attire, Rogers scanned the other's face, before glancing at the hand she put behind her back. She looked back up at her, before giving an innocent smile, and leaning against the doorway. "You can tell me anything, Fae", she simply said, choosing not to poke around in her business. "Even after two years, we're still here for you; you know that", Maggie added, shortly before turning back to watch Dianna. "Best we look our part in this mystery, ladies. We don't want to miss the Spookapalooza", she said, with a grin. Once they were ready, the trio ventured to the entertainment grounds, where certain performances were being held, with music playing over them. Fire breathers and twirlers - even performers thriving in tribal music. While the events may seem to be entrancing and enticing, the girls were on a mission, and have agreed to meet up at one of the tables near the bar to discuss their findings. Maggie managed to interview a few people, both employee and visitor, but strangely, no one claimed to have encountered anything unusual. That's odd - there were no witnesses, aside from Mondavarious. The taller girl sipped her drink at one of the tables, shortly before spotting Shaggy playing the crane game...and winning a prize for the blonde girl he was talking to, a few hours ago, on the plane.</s> <\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Fae's smile suddenly dropped when Maggie mentioned she could tell her anything, "I know, It's just... It's been so fucking long." She said, tears starting to slowly bubble in her eyes. Dianna walked in slowly as she heard Fae swear, knowing she barely swore unless she was very angry or stressed. "What's going on-" She started before she saw Fae holding her wrist. "Fae..." She started before Maggie mentioned about the Spookapalooza. "Right, I'm ready." She said as she looked down to herself before looking to Maggie and Fae. Fae had managed to change into dark black skinny jeans with a black tank top, which revealed small cuts and marks over her shoulders and back. "I'll explain things when we get back." Fae said as she readied herself to leave, "Come on." They went together to the entertainment grounds, Fae immediately was entranced by the atmosphere and she stopped in her tracks, allowing Dianna and Maggie to continue onwards. Dianna walked off from the other two girls and started trying to strike up conversation with anyone she could in order to ask if anyone saw anything abnormally; annoyingly no one had anything to report. She looked around to try and find her Cousin but couldn't see her either, and now she was too far away to find Fae or Maggie. Damn Fae and her short stature. Fae snapped back to reality as she was bumped into by Scooby, who was walking around finding places to eat. "Scoob!" Fae said with a small smile, moving to run her hand in the great danes fur, "Seen anything weird yet?" She asked, trying not to panic at the fact she couldn't see over anyone around her. "I don't know where to start.." She uttered to herself, glancing sideways to notice a male watching her quietly before she moved towards one of the fire breathers to just take in the atmosphere.</s> <\|message\|>Maggie Rogers It was only a bit of time that everyone split up. Maggie looked about, having to watch a majority of the performers passing by, as well as glanced at the people that sat at the tables. Something did not sit right, and she wasn't only talking about the strange markings that were all over Fae's upper body. She was aware of them, but she didn't want Blake's situation to trouble everyone, and waste their time. So, once they found the appropriate time to be alone, where Fae was a lot more calm, Maggie could potentially approach her on the subject. However, the time to actually do so, wasn't fluid, since she traveled in a different direction, along with Dianna disappearing shortly afterwards, leaving Maggie by herself. Trying to observe the guests, as well as the employees, everything seemed like a regular vacation's evening. However, by the time she turned her upper body around to look behind her, she did notice one of the bartenders, glancing at her, from the bar. Her eyes widened a little, with her lips slightly gaping, she eventually looked away at her drink, when it seemed to be prolonged. It wasn't a look of curiosity, but rather, vigilance, as if he was looking out. As scattered as she may be in the head, Maggie wasn't dim enough to not know that someone was watching her. Sniffing around, Scooby did indeed bump into one of the Blakes. "R'ae!", he said, giving her a lick, before shaking his head at her question. He then continued to sniff the ground, shortly before perking up. "R'urgers! (Burgers)", he barked, darting off into the bushes, and through the trees. "Fae!", Maggie's voice called, waving over to her from the table, avoiding to turn back at the bartender, in the distance. Meanwhile, at one of the dance performances, Velma observed a tribal dance, around a fire. Everything seemed like your ordinary entertainment venue, until she looked over at the guests, where she could see a few of the college kids, in the further back end of the crowd, staring straight ahead from where they stood, and chanting under their breaths, as if they were in some sort of trance. At the same time, these words seem to be blending in too well with the music of the performance. That's strange. 'A magic spell', she was told. Were these people she was seeing, the victims of this? Who would be doing it? And, why?</s> <\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Fae grinned when Scooby spoke to her, before she watched him head off towards supposed Burgers in the bushes. Burgers in the Bushes sounded a bit off to her before she heard her name being called out. She turned towards Maggie's voice, her face suddenly lit up as she walked over towards Maggie. "Maggie!" She said with a tilt of her head, moving to sit beside her on another bar stool. "Anything of importance yet?" She asked with a small frown. She turned to look around for Dianna, but couldn't see her anywhere- Despite the womans height. Dianna slowly looked around as she was getting deeper and deeper into the crowd, panic started to set in as she was being pushed around the group of people. She bumped into Velma and almost fell over her cousin. "Oh god I'm sorry." Dianna said before she realized who she bumped into before she smiled gently to her cousin. "How's it going Velms?" She asked with a bit of a grin.</s> <\|message\|>Maggie Rogers By the time she saw Fae sit next to her, at the bar, she smiled. She shook her head at her question. "Aside from a few creepy glances, I keep getting the same answer: Nothing. No one has seen anything out of the ordinary; no one has noticed anything weird", she said, almost a little disappointed, before looking through the crowd of people. "It feels like it's hiding in plain", as confused as Rogers was; how could Mondevarious be the only one making this claim, if none of the guests would be in agreement? Everybody and everything seemed to be living in a normal fashion, at least, that's what it looked like. It just didn't seem to make any sense...unless they were looking in the wrong places. She was sipping her drink, before she widened her eyes, and raised her eyebrows, placing it back on the counter. "I did catch wind about some old, abandoned ride. Perhaps we should look there", maybe they didn't cover enough areas yet. "It's...actually not a bad idea", just as she said this, the sound of Scooby running from behind the trees, and in a panicky fashion. "R'onster! R'onster!", he shouted, scrambling into the arms on Shaggy. "A monster?", he asked, before looking in the direction where his dog came. However, instead of a "monster", it was some guy in a giant bunny costume. "Scooby Doo, like, quit goofing around man", he scolded him, putting him down. Maggie frowned, before she too looked back in the direction that the Great Dane ran from. "We should follow the path. Maybe we'll nail ourselves a culprit".</s> <\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Fae frowned at the mention of finding nothing, now that she had the height of the bar chair she looked up and around slowly. She couldn't see Dianna just yet, nor could she see anyone else before Scooby ran over past them to his friend. "Monster?" She asked before she looked over towards where Scooby went before she looked towards Maggie. "We're thinking the same thing." Fae said with a grin before she heard footsteps behind her and glanced sideways towards Dianna. Dianna had heard the commotion before she looked towards Fae and Maggie before she gave a small grin. "Small adventure?" She asked as she moved to stand between Dianna and Fae, instinctively looping her arms into theirs like old times. "Let's go." She grinned even more.</s>	<\|message\|>Maggie Rogers After seeing the Great Dane run out from between the trees, Maggie had to admit that she was just about ready to stand up from her seat, out of reflex. Thankfully, it turned out to be a misunderstanding. 'Guess old Scoob saw something different in his own mind again' Maggie mused in her mind, before releasing a sigh of relief, and chuckling to herself. She wasn't aware of Dianna walking up towards them, from behind, as she took another drink from her cup. It was until she felt an arm loop inside her own, in a very familiar fashion. Rogers smiled and nodded, taking one more sip, before getting up, and leading the way towards the pathway that Scooby ran from: Through the forest, the trees, and towards the old castle near the beach. She gave a giggle, and took both of their hands. It was like they were best friends again, sneaking off to find excitement. The place surely has seen better days. A question still stood: Why shut down a ride? What was wrong with it? It could have broken down, but why would it still stand? Maggie looked up at the old abandoned castle, having to widen her eyes, and create a slight gap on her lips. "Wow", she said softly, having to be quite appalled. "I know I shouldn't sound critical or judge-y, but how could a place like this be still standing?", based on her observation, it was true. Again, she didn't how long the structure had been here, but it looked just about ready to collapse, at any time. It just seemed very separate from the other sections they've seen so far.</s>
<\|description\|>Maggie Rogers Nickname(s)/Alias(es): Mags, Magsie, or Magster. She was called Sugie ("shoo-gē") at early childhood, much like her brother's nickname, but now refuses to be called this, as it seems to vex her. Gender: Female. Hair Color: "Sun-Kissed" Brown. Eye Color: Hazel. Sexuality: Bi-curious Lesbian Occupation(s): Part-Time Waitress; Part-Time Daycare Helper; Amateur Sleuth. Affiliation: Mystery Inc. Family: - Samuel Chastain-Rogers (father) - Wendy Rogers (mother) - Norville "Shaggy" Rogers (brother) - Gaggy Rogers (uncle) - Albert Shaggleford (uncle) - Salty Rogers (uncle) - Henry Rogers (uncle) - Tawny Rogers (cousin) - Jamison Willikers (cousin) - Stetson Rogers (cousin) - Betty-Lou (cousin) - McBaggy Rogers (ancestor) - Jack "Dapper" Rogers (ancestor) Personality: Maggie is the third-only person in Shaggy's life, to possess similar traits: Though somewhat of an airhead, she's a good soul, whose kindness, patience, and remarkable tolerance allows her to deal with chaos, whilst having to seek out the positive parts of an issue; a dominant trait, inherited from their mother. The opposite to her brother's cowardly, laid-back personality, Maggie is energetic, courageous and, strangely, mature (since her air headedness doesn't seem to make up for it, at all). Since birth, she and her older brother are very close, with Shaggy describing her as 'his favorite human person in the whole world'. While they are very different, and have their moments on deciding an activity, or a course of action, they will both enjoy, or agree upon, Maggie is aware of his likes, dislikes, and restrictions, therefore she always takes them to consideration. However, when it really comes down to it, sometimes, her seriousness doesn't help. They definitely share a chemistry in culinary arts, either with the goal of becoming restaurant hosts, or general chefs; according to them: "She's the proud cooker, while he's the proud eater". This shared love is expressed whenever she surprises Shaggy with his favorite, bizarre food choices, albeit she would politely refuse to eat them herself. Skills & Abilities: - Handling Children (especially those who act like them). - Talented Cook. - Great Resourcefulness. - Athleticism (Running, Jumping, etc.). Portrayed By: Jennifer Garner (adult)</s> <\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Fae grinned happily at Dianna suddenly linking arms with the two of them, and moved with the other two girls with a smile that was probably the biggest she had ever smiled in the past three years. Fae's cheeks flooded deeper red as Maggie grabbed their hands, her heart raced. Dianna allowed Maggie to lead them along, she grinned like an absolute goofball as they got closer and closer to the old ride. "I agree, it's not judgey at all." Dianna said with a small nod, "Unless it's on the list of being fixed?" Fae's eyes widened at the look of the ride, she stepped forward slowly before Dianna moved to grab her shoulder quickly. "Calm down there boy." Dianna said with a bit of a wink towards her friend, her voice snapping Fae from the almost trance she'd get from unknown machines. Fae blinked before she cleared her throat and looked over to Maggie and Dianna with a bit of a grin. "Sorry, you know how I get with... Machines." Fae muttered slightly before she turned back to the ride before looking around a bit more. "We should check it out, but not stray too far from each other."</s> <\|message\|>Maggie Rogers Maggie placed her hands on her hips, as she examined the place a bit more with widening eyes. She turned back to look at the girls, and gave a smile, eyeing them with amusement, shortly before turning back to look at the structure. "Don't worry, Fae. I'll surprise you with something disassembled later, if you put yourself on a leash", she sing-songed, with a toothy grin, before leading the way, up to the front door, that was, somehow, ajar. That feeling was back, causing Rogers to frown. She expected the others to follow, tailing albeit close, behind her - especially since they were out here in the dark, and possibly, alone. Even as the taller girl walked, Maggie looked around, trying to spot something that would help in their investigation. Being careful in her steps, and trying not to trip, the trio approached the open door. Poking her head in first, Maggie found the 'haunted house'-themed ride a lot worse for wear, on the inside. The interiors were wore through, filled with a number of creepy figures...and voices? She turned her head back to the other two, and pushed the door a bit more, unintentionally letting out a loud squeak, which caused a frightened shout, coming from those voices. By the time it was wide open, the sources were none other than her brother, Scooby, and Daphne. Kind of strange to find them here first, but maybe the girls took the long way, while they took a short cut? There was always a possibility.</s> <\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Fae went to argue with Maggie's words before she heard the part about being on a leash and her eyes widened, cheeks suddenly flooding with red in colour. Fae looked to Dianna, who only grinned at Fae's sudden fluster before they both quickly followed the Rogers female inside. "Voices?" Dianna uttered to herself as she looked around, hearing the sounds inside as they slunk through the doorway. The squeak of the door caused Fae to bounce and ready herself to attack something, but she slowly relaxed after a moment of nothing moving towards her. Dianna looked back to Fae and then looked towards the source of the sounds. "Oh hey!" Dianna called to Scooby, Shaggy and Daphne. "Funny finding you guys here." She continued with a bit of a grin. Fae sighed as she saw her cousin and Maggie's sibling; Seeing Scoob made things even better, she really liked that big doofy dog. Fae moved quickly past Dianna and Maggie, moving over to Scooby and started to smush his face in her hands with a little bit of a grin. "I'm glad we found you guys instead of something more scary." Dianna said with a glance towards Fae, "Hey Fae, did you manage to bring any of those recording Drones that you were working on?" She asked after the idea suddenly flooded into her head. Fae blinked slowly, pulling her hands away from Scooby with a bigger smile. "I mean, if I'm allowed to bring them out," She glanced towards Daphne, "I did bring them, but someone doesn't like me showing off my tech."</s> <\|message\|>Maggie Rogers Scooby closed his eyes, and relished in the affection of the young woman, nearly scratching himself with his back foot. Daphne cleared her throat, when her cousin made that comment, before composing herself. "It's not that I don't want you to use your gadgets, Fae. It's just that there are times, where they don't need to be used", it was like the red-head was being careful in choosing her words - slowly, and out of reluctance; she didn't want to hurt her feelings, after speaking her opinion. But then, the very word "opinion" made Daphne realize that's what she has been doing to her cousin, for the past two years. It came to her, right then, and there; just by looking at the other girl: All those times of Fae, being quieter than normal, trying to convince her on rekindling with their old friends. It tugged her heart. Was she already hurting her feelings, and not being aware of it? What snapped her out of her conscious, was the loud opening of another door, which caused Shaggy to jump into Scooby's arms. Maggie flinched at the sound, but relaxed when she came to see that it was only Fred, making her brother casually descended from the talking dog's grasp. Any more surprises, during this night? "Fred, I found this place first. I call dibs on its clues", Daphne declared to him, remarkably going back to her much-more confident facade. "I've already found some clues", he said. "What?", she, in return, questioned, feeling the approach of defeat. "I've also found a few things", Velma's voice sounded, stepping out of a hallway. "This ride was closed, due to dangerous construction. It's the perfect place for hatching up an insidious plan." "Well, since we're all together, let's split up. Daphne and Fae, search this entrance; Velma and I will take the passage over there; Maggie and 'Anna...keep an eye on Shaggy and Scooby, after you go through that entrance", he gestured to the door on the other side of the room. "Sounds good", Maggie responded, relieved that they were all working together for once. With that, they all split up to their respective positions.</s> <\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Fae immediately looked towards Fred and Velma as they appeared. She seemed to relax a bit before she looked over to Daphne as she was told to go with her before she nodded and stepped over to her cousin, she looked over towards Maggie and Dianna almost longingly. "I think I have a more of a quiet drone if we need." Fae uttered, moreso to herself, out loud. She moved her hand instinctively to the pocket that held the tiny drone, folded up in order for it to stay hidden. Dianna looked over towards Shaggy and Scooby as she was told to look after them. Baby-sitting duty again, unsurprising to Dianna at this point but she smiled anyway. "You guys okay?" She asked the older Rogers and the Great Dane, she gave an almost motherly smile to them before she looked towards Maggie with a small sparkle in her eyes.</s> <\|message\|>Maggie Rogers Maggie shrugged apologetically towards Fae, before her lips curled into an amused smile, when she noticed the other place her hand in her pocket to pull something far-too-familiar. She kept the thought to herself, knowing that it was Fae's clever nature to be sneaky with her gadgets. By the time she led the way through a hallway, Shaggy and Scooby cautiously yet sheepishly followed behind, having to already feel the nerves of being in such a dark and abandoned place. Of course, like Fae, Dianna wouldn't hesitate on joining her, since the three women were very much inseparable. It wasn't anything new, to the rest of the gang, since Maggie was known for her tendency of playing 'leader' for the other two. In fact, one would think (if anyone knew) that this was probably one of the very things that made the female Rogers so enticing; why Dianna and Fae follow her lead, and why it seemed like they were enamored with her. Was it her courage? Her airheadedness? Her unpredictable nature? Her...beauty? So many theories. She may have missed Dianna looking at her, by the time they turned a corner. Her question towards her older sibling and his dog made Maggie reach back to take his hand, and give it a gentle squeeze, hoping that the gesture alone would help him, after seeing him gulp. It seemed to, considering that she felt him relax. Upon reaching a door, she let go of him, by the time she approached it. Quietly, the female Rogers opened it, and poked her head through; Shaggy following her action, above her, with Scooby whimpering, below them. "It's okay, boy", she said softly, petting him, before taking hold of Dianna's hand, and pushed the structure more. This revealing room seemed to be modeled into that of a dining room, or a kitchen.</s> <\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Dianna watched the three Rogers with a bit of a smirk before she looked through the doorway. She looked around the dining room like area and stepped through, blinking as Maggie grabbed her hand. "Oh wow." She said out loud, "This place is... Gorgeous." She said as she spun around slowly, taking in the room completely. "Spooky," She continued with a bit of a grin, "I love it." --- Fae walked along with Daphne, keeping her eyes up as she looked around. She held her compact Drone in her hand, just in case they needed it for later. "I still think it is a good idea to use them." She spoke under her breath as she glanced down at her hands before she gave a glance towards Daphne, her eyes moved away as Daphne looked back at her to answer. She kept her eyes out for anything out of the ordinary, paying attention to everything she could see. She felt the urge to use the drone, despite everything that Daphne told her not to, it would help, it had a small inferred camera in it to help with the darkness around the two of them.</s>	<\|message\|>Maggie Rogers Snickering at the other girl's comment, Maggie walked to a section of the room to look around, having to let go of her hand, in order to get a closer look at the wall. Shaggy and Scooby immediately looked at the spread on the table, covered with food, clearly mesmerized by the sight. She knew it wasn't real but, the real question is, do they know it is fake? Left alone at the entrance of the haunted house, along with her cousin, there was a clear, awkward tension between them. Daphne had been trying to open a door back in the front room, but it wouldn't budge. She really didn't know what to say, in the moment, other than to try and voice out her realization of how much pain she was giving the brunette. Especially, right now. "Come on, Fae. There's plenty of light", she argued, as if she was answering her cousin's thoughts. Giving the door another push, the red-head grunted, but it still didn't budge. Huffing, she decided to put her newly-earned black belt to good use, and gave the door a mighty kick, which seemed to have worked. However, she was unaware of the power around them, mysteriously, turning itself on. All around them, animatronics started to move, creepy laughter and sounds reverberated, and strobe lights starting flashing. Caught off guard in surprise, Daphne was unaware of one of the ride's automobiles, rolling on the tracks, in her direction. Before she knew it, she was picked up, and being dragged through the tunnels, yelling. "Fae!" Meanwhile, just as laughter echoed throughout the castle, one of the floorboards underneath Dianna gave out, representing a trapdoor. Before she could fall all the way through, Maggie was quick to act, grabbing her hand, catching her. Shaggy and Scooby screamed, finding themselves on a wall by...sausage links? "What do we do?!", the talking dog yelled.</s>
<\|description\|>Maggie Rogers Nickname(s)/Alias(es): Mags, Magsie, or Magster. She was called Sugie ("shoo-gē") at early childhood, much like her brother's nickname, but now refuses to be called this, as it seems to vex her. Gender: Female. Hair Color: "Sun-Kissed" Brown. Eye Color: Hazel. Sexuality: Bi-curious Lesbian Occupation(s): Part-Time Waitress; Part-Time Daycare Helper; Amateur Sleuth. Affiliation: Mystery Inc. Family: - Samuel Chastain-Rogers (father) - Wendy Rogers (mother) - Norville "Shaggy" Rogers (brother) - Gaggy Rogers (uncle) - Albert Shaggleford (uncle) - Salty Rogers (uncle) - Henry Rogers (uncle) - Tawny Rogers (cousin) - Jamison Willikers (cousin) - Stetson Rogers (cousin) - Betty-Lou (cousin) - McBaggy Rogers (ancestor) - Jack "Dapper" Rogers (ancestor) Personality: Maggie is the third-only person in Shaggy's life, to possess similar traits: Though somewhat of an airhead, she's a good soul, whose kindness, patience, and remarkable tolerance allows her to deal with chaos, whilst having to seek out the positive parts of an issue; a dominant trait, inherited from their mother. The opposite to her brother's cowardly, laid-back personality, Maggie is energetic, courageous and, strangely, mature (since her air headedness doesn't seem to make up for it, at all). Since birth, she and her older brother are very close, with Shaggy describing her as 'his favorite human person in the whole world'. While they are very different, and have their moments on deciding an activity, or a course of action, they will both enjoy, or agree upon, Maggie is aware of his likes, dislikes, and restrictions, therefore she always takes them to consideration. However, when it really comes down to it, sometimes, her seriousness doesn't help. They definitely share a chemistry in culinary arts, either with the goal of becoming restaurant hosts, or general chefs; according to them: "She's the proud cooker, while he's the proud eater". This shared love is expressed whenever she surprises Shaggy with his favorite, bizarre food choices, albeit she would politely refuse to eat them herself. Skills & Abilities: - Handling Children (especially those who act like them). - Talented Cook. - Great Resourcefulness. - Athleticism (Running, Jumping, etc.). Portrayed By: Jennifer Garner (adult)</s> <\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Fae was quick to notice the power suddenly turning on, moving to reach out to Daphne. "D-Daph...-" She started before she watched the automobiles snagging her cousin. "Daph!" She called out in worry as she was carried off. Adrenaline flooded her body before she started to sprint off after the ride. She wasn't the fittest, but she was incredibly happy she was wearing her sneakers rather than any fancy shoes. Instinctively she let go of her drone and it immediately started to fly quickly after her, buzzing around her like a bee. Fae paid no attention to the animatronics, she knew they caused her to panic. She hated them ever since she was grabbed accidentally by one when she was around 7 years old, becoming older helped with the fear of them attacking her on their own works- but it was still ingrained. She had read too many things about haunted mechanics, too many nights up late reading books, articles and stories anywhere she could. She moved to tap her pockets as she ran, swearing silently to herself for not bringing a faster drone than B.V. "B.V go ahead," She said as she continued to push herself to run, "Please find Daph." The drone spun around her head before starting to fly faster than her and disappeared into the hallways in front of her. "Shit!" Dianna swore as she started to fall, Maggie's hand grabbing hers to pull her out. She pulled herself up with Maggies help and shook herself off before she looked around with a bit of a sneer. "What was that?" She looked to Maggie with a worried look. She glanced towards the boys with a blink as she heard them yell. "Did you hear that laughter?"</s> <\|message\|>Maggie Rogers Maggie had mixed feelings of confusion, fear, and disappointment, especially when chaos ensued. She looked down at Dianna, clinging onto her for dear life. Rogers caught a glimpse of what was below them...a room of pure darkness. There was no way she was going to leave the young woman to that, so with the amount of strength that she had, Maggie began to pull her up, the best she could. Eventually, with their combined strength, they've managed to reach the top...making Maggie crouch down, and continue to pull her up, until she came next to her. At her question, the female Rogers looked up at the ceiling for a few seconds, before hearing the screams of Shaggy and Scooby, who appeared to be stuck on a wall, trapped and surrounded by a bunch of different kinds of meat. Quickly, Maggie raced to them, trying to find a way to release them. Scooby was too much in a panic, while Shaggy tried to stay brave, but not for very long...as he screamed in terror when an animatronic creature came out of the wall, hissing. What were they going to do? They couldn't pull them out, since the fake food on the wall, seemed to be sticking them there. "Come on, Dianna, help me!", Maggie said, trying to keep herself, as she attempted to free the boys. Somewhere, Fred, Daphne, and Velma weren't having any better luck. The red-head was still being dragged by the automobile, clinging onto it for dear life, mumbling to herself. "I'm not helpless; I'm not helpless", she said to herself, unaware of her cousin's drone hovering above her. She was far too focused on what was in front of her and, if it can't get any worse, there was a wall, up ahead, with blades protruding from it. "I am helpless; I'm gonna die!", she realized with a frightened yell, dread falling down on her. Fred and Velma were trying to outrun a few obstacles, but eventually, in what seemed like forever, (although it was accidental) the leader managed to find the switch that seemed to have powered everything. The moment he flipped it, everything stopped; the animatronics going back to their original spots, as if they haven't moved at all, and the automobile that Daphne was stuck on, immediately halted...a few inches away from the wall, that could have sealed her fate. Hearing the buzzing, she looked up to see her cousin's drone, and stared at it, before detaching herself from the car. Tilting her head, she shakily smiled at it. It wouldn't have been a bad idea, after all. By the time everything stopped, Shaggy was in pure happiness. "We made it. We're alive!", he was clearly thrilled, along with Maggie, who laughed with him, until the wall her brother was stuck on, tilted backwards, back to its original position. With a yelp, it dragged the young women, along with it, causing them to fall, next to the owner and his dog. "Whew!", Maggie sighed, just as the wind was knocked out of her, shortly after landing on the ground. "That was weird", the male Rogers commented from next to her, looking at the ceiling.</s> <\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Dianna stumbled into a standing position as she ran after Maggie, not wanting to be left alone just yet. She managed to get to them as Shaggy and Scooby had gotten out of the meat holding them to the wall. She moved to help everyone up with a weak, almost worried smile. "We alright?" She asked, looking at everyone before something clicked in her head. "Fae." She suddenly started. She looked to Maggie with a worried look, "Fae's scared of robots like the stuff here." She continued almost worriedly. B.V buzzed around Daphne's head for a bit, before darting up and the lights underneath it suddenly it up as it started to take some photos. Footsteps echoed around as Fae rounded the corner and stumbled, "Daph!" She called out, moving quickly and pulling her up into a tight hug. Fae didn't even pay attention to B.V was it buzzed around their heads, continuing to take photos of where they were. "Oh my god I was so worried. I'm so sorry." She mumbled quickly, holding Daphne close to her and almost sobbing into her chest as she did so.</s> <\|message\|>Maggie Rogers Daphne hugged Fae tightly, having to be relieved herself that she was safe. Looking back up at the drone, she took a moment to realize that maybe she was wrong; that the red-head shouldn't have put Fae's interests second. Judging by her cries, Daphne owed her an apology. "It's okay", she managed to say, after a moment of thought. "I'm okay", she added, shortly before she caught something in her line of sight behind her cousin. It seemed to be a stand, with a small pyramid, sitting on the top. "Hey", she said softly to the girl, tapping her back. Once she retracted, she wiped the tears off of her cousin's face, before cautiously approaching the strange object. By the time she got in front of it, the red head carefully placed her hand on the sides, and lifted it from the stand. "What is it?", Daphne questioned, shortly before a loud alarm went off. "Let's go!", she didn't bother to figure out where it was coming from, since she immediately took Fae's hand, with the small pyramid in her other hand. "Daph's with her", Maggie said, having to place her hands on the other woman's forearms, in order to reassure her best friend. "She should be okay. At least I hope", Fae had to be safe in her cousin's presence, right? Judging by how they were standing, they were pretty close together, although it was Shaggy's voice that cut into the tension. "Hey", he said to everyone in the room; his head sticking into another part of the room. Maggie broke eye contact with Dianna, and looked over to see her brother and Scooby already on their feet. Taking the other woman's hand, the female Rogers wasn't too far behind her brother, having to see a kitchen-modeled set, in the next room, behind a curtain. Why would something like this be right next to a ride? In the same building? "Now, this is weird", she commented, as she stepped further in, and looked around. Running her hand on the kitchen-cabinet's surface, so many questions went through her mind. However, before she could say anything, a loud alarm surrounded them. Only one thought came to mind. "Skedaddle!", Shaggy declared, not hesitating to run out, with Scooby having to willingly follow suit. Were they caught? Maggie didn't want to wait around to find out. Just as both groups managed to get back into the hallway, they found Fred and Velma attempting to leave, as well. "Hey! We found a very interesting clue", Daphne told them, just as she and Fae appeared, and held the mysterious object carefully in her hands. "Us too. We believe that this is a brainwashing facility for an evil cult", Velma shared with a smile. "And maybe this is the artifact-thingy that they worship", it was great to see the gang seemingly cooperate with each other. It was as if the old days never left, and that the shifting had never existed. "Let's get out of here", Maggie said to all of them, having to get out of the building through the closest exit.</s> <\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. As Daphne and Fae hugged, B.V buzzed around quickly, taking photos and silently sending out little probes to keep watch on everything before it buzzed over to Fae as Daphne let her go. Fae shivered slightly and smiled to her cousin, before she watched as Daphne stepped towards the pyramid. "What... is it?" She asked as she reached out and grabbed B.V and watched as the machine rolled itself up to fit into her pocket again. Fae went to speak before the Alarm sounded, Fae almost jumped out of her skin before she stepped towards Daphne and nodded at the idea of leaving, and quickly. She followed after Daphne without another word, keeping her eyes on her cousin in fear she'd lose her again. Dianna followed after Maggie without a question, she looked to Shaggy and Scooby and instinctively moved to rub the Great Danes head. As they got together, Dianna moved away from Maggie and pulled Fae into a tight hug. Fae let out a squeak before Dianna let her down. "I was so worried when things went... Crazy." Dianna said, Fae gave a small smile and waved her hand to show she was okay, but she didn't say anything. When Velma mentioned brain washing, Fae gave a frown before they moved to leave the building. She grabbed Dianna's hand and pulled her along slowly. "Brainwashing?" Fae whispered to Maggie and Dianna as they ran along to get out of the area. "Apparently?" Dianna replied with a shrug.</s>	<\|message\|>Maggie Rogers The very mention of 'brainwashing' made Maggie's stomach, either do a few flips, or drop instantly, since their seemingly-mission turned on its head. They were instructed to investigate the strange behaviors of the college students, hopefully by finding the person, who may be brewing up something that might be influencing them. But then, how does that explain their surprising strength, like from earlier? Was that woman always strong, to begin with? Appearances can be deceiving, after all. Judging by what they have found tonight, however, it's like that very incident was seconds past. A brainwashing facility? An evil cult? The mysterious object that Daphne found? This was out of their league, and beyond them. However, that didn't mean they were going to abandon the mission, no matter how strange. 'Strange' was what they were all about. Maggie reached back to take the free hands of both girls, right as they were exiting the haunted house ride. It was still dark, and the gang decided to retreat to the hotel, so they can gather their minds, and inform Mondavarius what they have discovered. The front lobby looked like a large, two-level lodge; like how one would expect on a trip to a house on the beach. One level had indoor fire pits, tables and chairs, along with some couches, with the second floor showing more tables and chairs, as well as piano, with someone playing on it, filling the room with relaxing music. The one thing that stood out, for both levels, were people sitting at bars. "I'll inform the owner", Fred said, as Velma took the artifact from Daphne. "And I'll go examine this; see if I can get anything from the inscriptions inside", she declared with a smile, before the red head piped in. "I'll go research cults on the 'net", before giving Velma a small high-five. With that, the three went their separate ways, including Shaggy and Scooby, who went to one of the nearby tables, where that familiar blonde girl was sitting at. Maggie walked over to one of the lounge couches, and flopped down with a tired sigh.</s>
<\|description\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Personality: Fae is incredibly nerdy; a lover of fantasy, sci-fi, music and mystery, it takes a bit to scare her. Known for being cheery, gentle, easy going and playful, she seems to have a minor case of ADHD, particularly shown in her strong, hyper focused affinity for computers and/or anything mechanical. In addition to being overly curious, Fae stays true to the Blake name, often getting herself almost hurt, or into trouble, especially when she is disassembling machines against one's wishes. Though shy around typically large creatures, she absolutely adores animals, especially birds, as they, technically, have a close relation to dinosaurs. Skills & Abilities: -Computer Skills -Taking Apart and Building Machines -Map Making Portrayed By: Whitney Able (adult) Nickname(s)/Alias(es): Dia, Dee, Dye, Anna. Gender: Female. Hair Color: Dark Brown. Eye Color: Deep-Blue. Sexuality: Lesbian. Occupation(s): Archaeologist (formerly), Fashion Designer (full-time), Swim Instructor (volunteer) Affiliation: Mystery Inc. Family: -John Dinkley (father) -Velma Dinkley (cousin) -Dale Dinkley (uncle) -Angie Dinkley (aunt) Dianna is a rather good-looking woman; her hair is always up in a neat Pony-tail or braid, her clothes are often crisp and clean. She is skinny, but not excessively; her body is surprisingly lean due to her swimming. Due to her swimming and her stints with Archeology, her skin is slightly tanned, a few freckles down her arms and over her nose and cheeks. Personality: Dianna was always known her creativity, whilst being the 'Pretty Woman', which easily got her into the Fashion industry. Being dotted over by others from her looks, people often say she was the beauty whereas Velma, whom she cherishes, and never leaves behind, was the brains. Due to this, Dianna is a bit depressed, and a loner, who's very unsure about her own intellect. In addition, even at work, she is curious albeit not that outgoing, with not that many friends, and often left to herself, either seen daydreaming or zoning out, whilst taking notes whenever something comes across her mind. Skills & Abilities: -Clothing and Costume making. -Good Baker. -Knowledge of Dinosaurs. -Strong Swimmer. -Strong Lungs. Portrayed By: Jennifer Love Hewitt (adult)</s> <\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. After everything sort of... exploded; Fae was kind of, left alone. She never vocalized her sadness of it all, she just kept her head down and continued on her work. It was easier to ignore this way, just put your head down in the office and focus mainly on whatever you were tinkering on or what code you were making. After the massive falling out, she was reluctant to hang out with her cousin, but... She was the closest family at this point, so much that Fae even took the small amount of stuff she had with her and moved in with Daphne. Fae often kept to herself even when they were living together, she got her own room and due to Maggie and Dianna never contacted her anymore she just sort of... stayed there. Daphne would often pull her out and around, and she simply allowed it. There was no use arguing with her cousin, she got dramatic when things didn't go her way. --- Dianna's love of life sort of fizzled out when the group split, she spent the first month just staying in her room by herself. She often forgot to eat or drink, which caused her to get sick and very thin to the point where she was sent to stay with Velma due to it. Velma helped Dianna get at least a bit happier again, but she wasn't as energetic as she used to be. They started to take more trips to the museum to see the new things that popped up, which easily helped her mood- especially the dinosaurs. She stopped making so many costumes after things went south for the Mystery Inc; she took leave from her work, which she was allowed. She had enough holiday leave to just have a couple months off, that and she was close to her boss- who understood what was happening. Things were... happening at least. --- As Daphne complained about her carry-on bags, Fae wanted to sink into the ground and disappear. "Look," She said turning to her cousin, "I don't have any carry-on bags, can I take two of hers?" She asked as she looked to the receptionist. She turned back towards Daphne before she furrowed her brow, "Daph, just... Focus on the trip okay? I'm sure we can get these into the luggage bay, you don't really need everything on the trolley right?" She asked with a raised eyebrow. Fae wore a loose fitting Jurassic Park tee that was given to her by Dianna after a marathon that the girls had done; a massively fond memory that she would never forget about. Even if she would never see them, she would at least have a few things to remember them by. She gave a bit of a yawn as she waited for Daph to stop complaining about the carry-on; she was woken up pretty early to leave. She wasn't a fan of being up at the moment, she wanted to be back home tinkering with things but she looked forward for the island. Dianna looked over towards the large tower of bags and she felt her stomach sink. She looked over to Velma with a worried look to check if she had noticed the tower as well. She looked around more, she swore she had seen Fred walking around too, but she didn't trust her eyesight. Maybe she was just missing them more than ever? Who knows. She just wanted her friends back.</s> <\|message\|>Maggie Rogers Having to come from a wealthy family, Daphne was pretty straightforward on the concept of being prepared; in this case, fashion-wise. Having her cousin (and closest friend) along for the ride, she felt that Fae should really be thanking her, considering that this was the perfect getaway for the both of them, and that her stuff was in, at least, two of the bags. The red-head looked at her, after leaning against the receptionist desk, and rolled her eyes, behind her sunglasses. Before she could say anything else, she spotted Velma, standing with Dianna, and immediately expressed disbelief. What is this? Why are they here? She tipped her sunglasses down a little and, as if eyes were felt, the nerd returned her stare. "Velma?", a voice called, appearing in the distance of them. "Fred?", she answered, feeling a bit awkward and confused. Velma looked back at Daphne, who pretended to mind her own business, and didn't just see her former colleague. Right place, wrong time? "Daph?", he called out, showing confusion as well. Having to get over her state, said-red head straightened up at the desk with Fae. "I'm not talking to you guys", she told them, having to make a zipping motion over her mouth, and throw away 'the key'. However, no matter how much she tries to ignore them, Daphne couldn't hold back a demand for an explanation. "What the heck are you doing here?", said-demand came. "Isn't it obvious? We all got the same invite by Emile Mondavarious, the reclusive owner of Spooky Island", Velma answered, although it clearly was something that the rich heiress did not want to hear, judging by how she pouted. "That's not fair!", she complained, stomping her pink-heeled boot on the ground, frowning. "We were gonna solve a mystery by ourselves for the first time ever!" Fred was more amused than agreeable. "How are you gonna solve it yourselves after you get caught?", he asked, wondering what her plan was gonna be, if her danger-prone tendencies got in the way. Daphne put her hands on her hips, straightening up. "I'm a black belt now. I've now transformed my body into a dangerous weapon", she was serious, but like every time, it was taken as a joke by the gang. Fred and Velma chuckled in amusement at her determination. "What? It's true", Daphne insisted, holding onto her pride. "Not to mention that I taught Bella a few things too". "What is this?", another voice commented aloud, in the distance, almost delighted to see the gang back together again, though seemingly. The three of them heard the voice of Shaggy's little sister, and had their attention towards her, as she approached them with a grin; Shaggy following behind. "Looks like we're all going to Spooky Island, man!", he said, having to surprisingly give off a rather happy disposition, even though he was about ready to have a panic attack a few hours earlier. Amazing how much of mentioning a simple food buffet would brighten his spirits!</s> <\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Fae winced when Daphne called her by her first name, uttering out a quiet "It's... Fae." She uttered as she looked at the ground. She hesitated before looking up to everyone else with a weak smile, leaning against the Bags slightly with a sigh. She watched Daphne, Fred and Velma all talk, avoiding a glance towards Dianna- as she did the same. Her head shot up as she heard the voice of the female Rogers, her eyes widened with happiness as she tried to hide it; although by the sudden smile on her face was a massive give away. "Is there something wrong with working in numbers anyway?" Dianna finally piped up as she glanced between the original team of Mystery Inc, finishing her look towards Daphne, "I know things went south, we all know." She continued before she closed her eyes and moved to grip the bridge of her nose, "I feel like we should just... Try and put the past behind us and enjoy this trip." She opened her eyes as she looked between Fae and Maggie. "For the good of old times, for the good of friendship." Fae nodded slightly at Dianna's words, her eyes moving towards Maggie before she watched her and Shaggy. She hesitated before she mouthed 'Where's Scoob?', hoping she could see the words completely. She stayed quiet as everyone else talked, she didn't want to butt in, she just wanted their friendships to be mended, as if it was that easy.</s> <\|message\|>Maggie Rogers "Where's Scoob?", Fred asked them. "Aloha!", as if on cue, the talking dog himself was seen clumsily walking towards the gate in what seems to be a woman's outfit, with a hat and heels, causing quite an amount of attention from the crowd. "They won't allow big dogs on the plane", Shaggy explained. "So, we came up with this", his sister added, with an embarrassed smile. "Clearly, not my best work", this was Shaggy's idea, and all Maggie could do was look away in embarrassment at the scene, though was chuckling on the inside. By the time the talking, disguised dog made his way over, Maggie continued to smile, not having to gather the tension in the air between the three former team members. Once she caught sight of her close friends, she made up by giving a hug to Dianna, before making her way over to Fae. She thought that it would be pleasant, considering that everyone was together in one place, but it was only when she looked at their faces that she managed to recognize the awkwardness and unease, which caused her to eventually frown. Being somewhat of an airhead had its perks: The female Rogers had the tendency to get very carried away with the things and people she enjoyed, to the point where she does not seem to read non-verbal cues. However, give her a second of two, and she'll catch up. "Listen", Velma piped up. "I wouldn't have agreed to come if I knew you were", she said, a croak in her voice, causing Fred and Daph to glance at the ground, already thinking about abandoning the invite, and pretend they never saw each other. Maggie wanted to console the bespectacled young woman, but that was until Dianna decided to speak. "Yeah", Shaggy agreed to the young woman's words. "Think about it for one minute: Mystery Inc reunites. We'll be a team again, just like the old days", he said, hoping that it would help mend some of the tension. The three seemed to be thinking it over, glancing to the ground, but still avoiding to look at each other. That was when the receptionist called for those boarding to Spooky Island. "I'm only in, if they are", Daphne said, not having to feel content on working with her former colleagues. It was at that point, that Fred rolled his eyes, and walked to the entrance of the gate, with Velma reluctantly following after. The red-head moved next, after putting her sunglasses back on. "Come on, Fae"</s>	<\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. At the sight of Scooby, Dianna only let out a small chuckle at the costume. Sure, it wasn't the best, but it was at least a decent effort! "Honestly," she started as she looked towards Scooby and Shaggy, "It's not terrible, I'm proud of you guys." She continued before she looked towards Maggie as she came to hug her, Dianna gave a gentle hug to her before she watched her head over towards Fae. Fae was frozen on the spot for a moment as Maggie got close to her, when she wrapped her arms around her Fae failed to hold back her emotions as she pulled Maggie into a big hug and leaned her forehead against Maggie's head. She had missed this, she had been so alone this entire time. Sure she had Daphne but Daphne wasn't one to talk to her about the stuff the others would; Maggie loved to talk about food, and would listen when she rambled about her mechanic work or coding details, and she and Dianna easily debated either or not they could make a fully articulate monster with the abilities of all three of them. Fae let go of Maggie as everyone started talking again, before everyone slowly just... moved along. Dianna followed after Velma quickly, watching her cousin before she moved to grip her arm gently. "Everything will be okay." She whispered to Velma with a small smile. Fae looked over to Daphne as she told her to follow her. She nodded once as she started to follow, moving to pull the baggage cart along behind her. She sighed to herself, she had a feeling that Daphne would be holding her back from seeing her old friends... The only people she had ever been close to. She moved to fix her shirt awkwardly before she fixed over her sidebag with all of her gadget tools and her current smaller project.</s>
<\|description\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Personality: Fae is incredibly nerdy; a lover of fantasy, sci-fi, music and mystery, it takes a bit to scare her. Known for being cheery, gentle, easy going and playful, she seems to have a minor case of ADHD, particularly shown in her strong, hyper focused affinity for computers and/or anything mechanical. In addition to being overly curious, Fae stays true to the Blake name, often getting herself almost hurt, or into trouble, especially when she is disassembling machines against one's wishes. Though shy around typically large creatures, she absolutely adores animals, especially birds, as they, technically, have a close relation to dinosaurs. Skills & Abilities: -Computer Skills -Taking Apart and Building Machines -Map Making Portrayed By: Whitney Able (adult) Nickname(s)/Alias(es): Dia, Dee, Dye, Anna. Gender: Female. Hair Color: Dark Brown. Eye Color: Deep-Blue. Sexuality: Lesbian. Occupation(s): Archaeologist (formerly), Fashion Designer (full-time), Swim Instructor (volunteer) Affiliation: Mystery Inc. Family: -John Dinkley (father) -Velma Dinkley (cousin) -Dale Dinkley (uncle) -Angie Dinkley (aunt) Dianna is a rather good-looking woman; her hair is always up in a neat Pony-tail or braid, her clothes are often crisp and clean. She is skinny, but not excessively; her body is surprisingly lean due to her swimming. Due to her swimming and her stints with Archeology, her skin is slightly tanned, a few freckles down her arms and over her nose and cheeks. Personality: Dianna was always known her creativity, whilst being the 'Pretty Woman', which easily got her into the Fashion industry. Being dotted over by others from her looks, people often say she was the beauty whereas Velma, whom she cherishes, and never leaves behind, was the brains. Due to this, Dianna is a bit depressed, and a loner, who's very unsure about her own intellect. In addition, even at work, she is curious albeit not that outgoing, with not that many friends, and often left to herself, either seen daydreaming or zoning out, whilst taking notes whenever something comes across her mind. Skills & Abilities: -Clothing and Costume making. -Good Baker. -Knowledge of Dinosaurs. -Strong Swimmer. -Strong Lungs. Portrayed By: Jennifer Love Hewitt (adult)</s> <\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. At the sight of Scooby, Dianna only let out a small chuckle at the costume. Sure, it wasn't the best, but it was at least a decent effort! "Honestly," she started as she looked towards Scooby and Shaggy, "It's not terrible, I'm proud of you guys." She continued before she looked towards Maggie as she came to hug her, Dianna gave a gentle hug to her before she watched her head over towards Fae. Fae was frozen on the spot for a moment as Maggie got close to her, when she wrapped her arms around her Fae failed to hold back her emotions as she pulled Maggie into a big hug and leaned her forehead against Maggie's head. She had missed this, she had been so alone this entire time. Sure she had Daphne but Daphne wasn't one to talk to her about the stuff the others would; Maggie loved to talk about food, and would listen when she rambled about her mechanic work or coding details, and she and Dianna easily debated either or not they could make a fully articulate monster with the abilities of all three of them. Fae let go of Maggie as everyone started talking again, before everyone slowly just... moved along. Dianna followed after Velma quickly, watching her cousin before she moved to grip her arm gently. "Everything will be okay." She whispered to Velma with a small smile. Fae looked over to Daphne as she told her to follow her. She nodded once as she started to follow, moving to pull the baggage cart along behind her. She sighed to herself, she had a feeling that Daphne would be holding her back from seeing her old friends... The only people she had ever been close to. She moved to fix her shirt awkwardly before she fixed over her sidebag with all of her gadget tools and her current smaller project.</s> <\|message\|>Maggie Rogers Velma has always been the most-emotional, so she was actually very glad and grateful that she had someone like Dianna. Probably her closest relative, aside from her own parents, she could always entrust the other like a sister, even though they didn't live in the same house, growing up. However, they always found time to talk on the phone, and bond. From them on, since childhood, they've been sticking to each other by the hip, sharing a multitude of intellectual interests...although Dianna was the most-artistic, out of the two. Giving her cousin a sad smile, she took a deep breath, and proceeded on boarding. Scooby whimpered, as Maggie looked at the ground, having to feel slightly disappointed and saddened, that she couldn't enjoy the moment any longer, before heading onto another grand adventure. However, instead of a heartfelt reunion, it remained the same, since they broke up, two years ago - distant, shallow, and "shoulder-chipped", as if they were complete strangers, all over again...before they met in high school. Shaggy walked next to her, and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, and brought her in to comfort her, by the time they and the dog eventually followed. In the plane, due to the rows having only three seats, most of the gang had to be split up in various directions, although they were all close to one another, and not far away; therefore, it was a packed flight. Internally, they were all pretty glad they didn't have to talk to each other the entire flight. Maggie was seated with Fae and Dianna in one row, in front of Fred and Velma, and next to the row that had contained Shaggy and Scooby. It was complicated to sort out, but it was easy to find everyone, considering that they were all near each other. Reading a book - a cookbook, apparently - that she managed to grab from one of the stores in the airport, Maggie managed to keep her eyes on the pages, despite the loud noise, although she did take occasional glances at Shaggy, who seemed to be talking to a pretty blonde girl, next to him. With her hand still up, in order for the guy in the next seat to get out of her line of sight, Daphne kept her eyes on a magazine, completely ignoring the dude trying to hit on her. It felt good to sit with her close friends, despite the awkwardness - so she decided to break the ice. "So, how are you both doing? Taking it okay?"</s> <\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Dianna smiled back to Velma and continued onto the plane, putting her stuff into the appropriate places before she sat down at the end of the aisle before she noticed that Fae and Maggie would be sitting by her. She held her breath for a moment as she watched them, pulling out a small sketchbook to put on her lap to sketch in, in case the others don't want to talk. Fae let Daphne and the Roger siblings on before her, smiling to the air hostess as she got on and headed to her seat, allowing Maggie to go into the middle of them. She sat down after she put her bags away as well before she sat down at the end, giving a small wave towards Scooby as he sat with Shaggy. Fae almost jumped as Maggie broke the ice to speak, she let out a squeak before she let out a small laugh. Dianna gave a small chuckle as well as she shook her head. "It's been terrible." Dianna started, looking towards Maggie, and then Fae. "I mean, I've been helping Velma as much as I can, taking her out places to keep her mind off things but it doesn't help my mind." She continued as she moved to grip the bridge of her nose. "After it all happened I sort of just... Shut down, I got incredibly depressive, things got... Terrible for me." She admitted before she feigned a small smile, something that she was known for. Fae stopped laughing before she looked into her lap weakly, "I... Know that feeling." She said as her right hand instinctively moved to rub her left wrist, which was adorned with a small cloth bracelet, that covered the majority of her wrist. "It's been... Lonely." She started as well, not looking up from her lap, "Daph took me in, she took care of me. But... nothing just felt right. I never had any other friends, I had co-workers, but I disliked talking about work stuff outside of work." Fae glanced to Maggie with a tilt of her head, "I see you're still the cook you always have been?" She asked with a bit of a grin, trying to brighten the air around them.</s> <\|message\|>Maggie Rogers Maggie, admittedly, did not expect herself to be sitting in between two of her most closest friends. It was a rather surprising thing to find herself in, but she wasn't one to complain about such things. Usually, with complete strangers, she would keep to herself, and let time fly, but...in this case, these two individuals were, like, sisters to her. As of right now, she was listening to their confessions, having to show empathy in her eyes, as she always does. However, she frowned slightly when Dianna pulled off that smile; the same one that would conceal what she was really feeling. Her words were not matching her eyes. She was no expert in Dianna's field, but the female Rogers could tell that, despite the smile, there was a different kind of emotion in the other's eyes; the same kind that Fae was expressing profoundly. They missed the presence of those who accepted them for who they were, and built a solid relationship with. The breakup only discouraged the comfort that they once had, creating an emotional rift in the heart, and ripping it in two. To reciprocate these feelings (and show she wasn't being fooled), Maggie placed a comforting hand upon her arm, before trailing it up to wrap it around her shoulders, so Dianna could lean against her. Rogers just couldn't stand the fact that the ones she deeply cared for, were feeling this way. It seemed that while Dianna was trying, as much as she can, to help her cousin, she wasn't taking the time to take care of herself. Having to be aware of preference, interest, and priority, Maggie respected their paths in life, but then, their own well-being had to be looked after, and she felt it to be right to step in. Looking over at the other girl, having to give her a small smile, and a chuckle. "You should see me. Been working on a new recipe; one of our grandmother's favorites", she said. "Haven't found the time to cook it, but maybe after this trip, you are more than welcome to try it", she grinned, leaving her cookbook in her lap, as she brought over a hand to move a piece of hair out of Fae's face. Hearing a barking sound, she turned to find Scooby barking at a cat that was near him, shortly until the creature made a run for it, causing the talking dog to compulsively give chase. "Sit grandma! Bad grandma! Don't eat the kitty!", Shaggy shouted, causing Maggie to cover her eyes, and groan. This was going to be a long flight, but after a few hours, the plane finally landed. After arriving at the airport, Maggie placed her book back in the bag she stored above her. Apart from Scooby, having to nearly give himself away, she took the time to give comfort to Dianna and Fae, having to tell them stories of her and Norville's endeavors these past two years; at the same time, also admitting her own feelings of loneliness to them. It wasn't the same without them, since their time of bonding seemed to make it look like they knew each forever. However, whether if it became something more, she couldn't really say, even though all three of them shared an interest, and/or felt comfort, around women. Although Maggie has been experimenting with the opposite gender these past few months. Wherever their hearts were, Rogers kept it to herself, and will support them, no matter what. Having to board a ferry, which would take them to the actual resort, Maggie felt the need to side with her companions during the entire journey, while at the same time, she smelled something fishy - not literally. Why invite all of them?</s>	<\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Dianna felt her cheeks flushed before she moved her head onto Maggie's shoulder, she let out a long gentle sigh as her body seemed to suddenly just relax in the female Rogers shoulder. She looked over towards Fae as she spoke before locking eyes with the bracelet around her hand; why was she wearing something like that? Fae had never been one for jewelry, especially any sort of bracelets. Dianna's eyes moved away as Maggie started to talk before she smiled. "I'd love to come over if you'd allow us over." She said with a small smile, "I'm guessing Shaggy isn't... being as strict as the cousins?" She asked, motioning with her eyes slowly to Velma and Daphne, "I mean, Velma has been... Okay, but she's been iffy on allowing me to contact you guys." Fae flinched when Maggie moved to brush a bit of hair out of her face, her face deepened red before she looked away slightly. She noticed herself fumbling with her small bracelet around her wrists; a small bit moved out of the way and revealed what looked to be a small scar. "I... Ended up breaking my old phone." She admitted, which is why she never contacted the other girls, "After everything, after Daph and I got home I kind of just... Blew up at her. We yelled, I cried, She cried... I then locked myself in the bedroom for..." She trailed off before she heard the barks from Scooby. Dianna couldn't help but smiling as she watched Scooby bark at a cat, "He never changes." She said softly, she watched everything unfold before she returned her eyes on Fae's wrist for a moment. As the plane landed and getting to the airport, Dianna glanced towards Velma with a small smile. She offered her cousin a thumbs up before she turned to Maggie and Fae with a bigger smile. She was over the moon to have her friends back in her life, she never expressed it to anyone, but she adored her friends to the point where she felt like it was something more then just friendship. Dianna remembered she had never really been in a proper relationship before, especially not with another woman. Unknown to the other two girls, Fae was feeling the same. She had some girlfriends in the past, but they never turned out into a long term relationship; even more so with her relationships with men. She never had a problem with men, especially since she was a tomboy; she used to be the 'guy' in her lesbian relationships, which she was fine with. The ferry ride made Fae a bit worried, which showed on her face. She had never really been on a boat for a while, she worried about getting seasick. She fiddled with her bracelet and her top more, before Dianna moved and grabbed her wrist gently. She lifted her hand up to her face and looked at the bracelet. Fae stared towards Dianna as she knew what she was trying to look at, before she pulled her hand away to point towards a bird flying across. "Look!" Fae called out with a bigger grin, the Seabird flew along near the boat.</s>
<\|description\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Personality: Fae is incredibly nerdy; a lover of fantasy, sci-fi, music and mystery, it takes a bit to scare her. Known for being cheery, gentle, easy going and playful, she seems to have a minor case of ADHD, particularly shown in her strong, hyper focused affinity for computers and/or anything mechanical. In addition to being overly curious, Fae stays true to the Blake name, often getting herself almost hurt, or into trouble, especially when she is disassembling machines against one's wishes. Though shy around typically large creatures, she absolutely adores animals, especially birds, as they, technically, have a close relation to dinosaurs. Skills & Abilities: -Computer Skills -Taking Apart and Building Machines -Map Making Portrayed By: Whitney Able (adult) Nickname(s)/Alias(es): Dia, Dee, Dye, Anna. Gender: Female. Hair Color: Dark Brown. Eye Color: Deep-Blue. Sexuality: Lesbian. Occupation(s): Archaeologist (formerly), Fashion Designer (full-time), Swim Instructor (volunteer) Affiliation: Mystery Inc. Family: -John Dinkley (father) -Velma Dinkley (cousin) -Dale Dinkley (uncle) -Angie Dinkley (aunt) Dianna is a rather good-looking woman; her hair is always up in a neat Pony-tail or braid, her clothes are often crisp and clean. She is skinny, but not excessively; her body is surprisingly lean due to her swimming. Due to her swimming and her stints with Archeology, her skin is slightly tanned, a few freckles down her arms and over her nose and cheeks. Personality: Dianna was always known her creativity, whilst being the 'Pretty Woman', which easily got her into the Fashion industry. Being dotted over by others from her looks, people often say she was the beauty whereas Velma, whom she cherishes, and never leaves behind, was the brains. Due to this, Dianna is a bit depressed, and a loner, who's very unsure about her own intellect. In addition, even at work, she is curious albeit not that outgoing, with not that many friends, and often left to herself, either seen daydreaming or zoning out, whilst taking notes whenever something comes across her mind. Skills & Abilities: -Clothing and Costume making. -Good Baker. -Knowledge of Dinosaurs. -Strong Swimmer. -Strong Lungs. Portrayed By: Jennifer Love Hewitt (adult)</s> <\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. "You have no reason to be sorry!" Fae blurted out as Maggie apologized for not inviting them, "You had no real reason to know." She said, Dianna giving a nod. The two girls kind of just stayed quiet while they got closer to the island before they saw the island. Fae's eyes suddenly lit up at the sight of everything. "You're not allowed to pull anything apart." Dianna said offhandedly towards Fae, who shot her a childish glare, something that hadn't been done since the break up. Dianna gave a laugh and grinned towards Maggie, everything was so comfortable again; everything just felt... Good. As they walked onto the pier, Dianna wobbled slightly as she stepped off the boat, Fae moving quickly to help her friend with a grin, offering her hand towards Maggie to help her down too. As the crowd slowly gathered around them, Fae slowly slinked closer to her friends in mild fear of the large group of college students. She cleared her throat before her eyes were caught by the statue as they walked closer to it. As the man stepped out from behind it, her eyes lit up and she moved to step forward, Dianna moving to grab her shirt to pull her back. "Gauk!" Fae yelped as Dianna pulled her under her arm with a bigger grin. "She hasn't chanced has she?" Dianna said towards Maggie before she noticed her eyes narrowing. She looked towards the male before she looked him up and down almost quizzingly, "But you're the one who sent the letters right?" She asked after a bit of silence.</s> <\|message\|>Maggie Rogers Maggie allowed Fae to help her down from the boat, although she did kind of lost a little bit of balance, due to being used to the swaying of the ferry. Thankfully, in only a few seconds, Rogers gained what she could of her bearings. She chuckled at the impulsive antics of the other girl, having to find this amusing. Good thing Dianna's reflexes were faster. "...oh, yes!", the owner said, after a pause of what the said-girl asked him, shortly before he signaled them to follow. Maggie didn't hesitate to follow after the man with the rest of the gang. At the same time, she wasn't really sure of what to make of him. He seemed friendly, but the earlier feeling that she had, back on the plane, was lingering. "Now, I am in great need of help. I believe that somebody here is casting a spell upon the students", he explained. "Have you noticed anything different between those arriving, and those departing?", he asked, giving them a moment to observe. Velma gazed at the departing line. "They look like regularly-behaved college students". "Precisely. But they haven't when they arrived", Emile explained. "The ones arriving seem normal; they're energetic and fun. But the ones departing, well...they weren't the same as when they had arrived". As if on cue, in the distance, one of the arriving male students approached a departing female, who he seemed to know for quite some time...until she suddenly assaulted him, surprisingly, in a physical sense. She lifted him off the ground by his shirt, and practically threw him, covering great distance! It was like she had superhuman strength! Maggie watched in disbelief, having to find it a little hard to believe that what she saw was real, and that Mondavarious may be right on his claim. Biting his lip, the owner turned to them. "I'm terrified for the young people here, and I don't want to lose this place. The people coming off of that barge; the people that I love most, they're in great danger. Will you help me?", the owner asked, nearly begging for their help. "I'm gonna solve this one first", Velma declared, already eager. "Not if I solve it first", Fred countered. "You guys are gonna look like total idiots when you're captured, and I'm the one saving you", Daphne said, having to already turn on her heel, and walk towards the hotel; the others not far behind. Maggie looked at the three, as they went their separate ways, frowning once more in disappointment. And so, the tension continued. Just like from two years ago. The mystery itself was intriguing, so Maggie put on her best smile, and turned to the man. "I'm sure you're doing great business here, Mister Mondavarious. We will do what we can here to help", she said, although at the same time, she was quite concerned, regarding the competition between the other three that may happen for the next few days. Shaggy looked at her, having to remain quiet and relaxed, not even bothering to get in the middle of the squabble; just letting it go. He tried to settle things last time, but it ended breaking them all up. So, he found it necessary to not try again, mainly due to his fear of making it worse. Plus, the brother knew that this was affecting his sister, no matter how hard she tried to hide it. Mondavarious was glad to hear their responses, having to sound relieved that he got some help. "This is marvelous! Just marvelous! I guess we should celebrate with a little Spookapalooza", he said. "S-S-Spookapalooza? Ruh-oh!", Scooby exclaimed, having to stutter at hearing the one word, hidden within the name. After she was happy to give the others help with their bags, Maggie found herself sharing a room with them. Due to the later weather turning warm yet humid, she changed into something for the evening: White tennis-shoes, a pair of bell-bottom jeans with a belt, and a red, sleeveless tank-top. The only thing missing, would be her denim jacket. Pieces of her long brown hair was still clipped back, while the rest still draping down to her back and mid-chest. Rogers was just walking into the two-person bathroom, until she spotted Fae standing in front of the sink, looking at her wrist. "You doing alright?"</s> <\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Fae and Dianna both jumped when they watched the woman throw the male, Fae looked to the owner momentarily as he continued to speak before she looked to the others, who started bickering. Dianna turned to Fae momentarily before she looked over towards the rest of the Gang, giving a weak smile towards Shaggy and Scooby as they started. Both Fae and Dianna moved to look to Maggie as she spoke again. "I'd be more than willing to help." Fae said with a nod before she looked to Maggie and Dianna and hooked her arms around theirs. "As long as we work together." She said with a tilt of a head and a smile. "Spookapaloza?" Dianna asked with a tilt of her head as it was mentioned, especially since Scooby repeated it. Once they got into the rooms, Fae made her way into the bathroom to get changed while Dianna and Maggie stayed out in the proper room. Fae had started to change into a slightly more... fancy top, a small button up red-and-black plaid shirt paired with black jeans. She had to wash her hands real quick, and pulled off her bracelet to get under it without getting it wet; she was halfway through when Maggie's words echoed through her ears. "I'm fine!" She said with a wide, awkward smile. She moved to hide her hands behind her back quietly without another thought. Dianna went through her clothes quietly, pulling out a long skirt to put on, with a long off-white t-shirt with a small flower pattern. It was something she had made herself at least. She changed quickly and pulled out a yellow hoodie with red petals over it, with a large red rose on the back of it; It wasn't her best piece, but it was something she was proud of.</s> <\|message\|>Maggie Rogers It made all the more sense for them to change their attires, since they were now in a more tropical setting, instead of the cool, suburban outskirts of their hometown. The island was nicely laid out, financially and theme-wise; it certainly had a vacation-feeling to it, being a resort and all, but everyone in the gang knew that this wasn't the time to treat it as such, especially since Velma, Daphne, and Fred would get too caught up in their ambition to a game of "one-up". However, that didn't mean that they couldn't try to blend, hence the reason why the three girls decided to change clothes, and settle in, before starting their investigation. Fae's instinctual response made Maggie narrow her eyes, and tilt her head. While Dianna was working out her attire, Rogers scanned the other's face, before glancing at the hand she put behind her back. She looked back up at her, before giving an innocent smile, and leaning against the doorway. "You can tell me anything, Fae", she simply said, choosing not to poke around in her business. "Even after two years, we're still here for you; you know that", Maggie added, shortly before turning back to watch Dianna. "Best we look our part in this mystery, ladies. We don't want to miss the Spookapalooza", she said, with a grin. Once they were ready, the trio ventured to the entertainment grounds, where certain performances were being held, with music playing over them. Fire breathers and twirlers - even performers thriving in tribal music. While the events may seem to be entrancing and enticing, the girls were on a mission, and have agreed to meet up at one of the tables near the bar to discuss their findings. Maggie managed to interview a few people, both employee and visitor, but strangely, no one claimed to have encountered anything unusual. That's odd - there were no witnesses, aside from Mondavarious. The taller girl sipped her drink at one of the tables, shortly before spotting Shaggy playing the crane game...and winning a prize for the blonde girl he was talking to, a few hours ago, on the plane.</s>	<\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Fae's smile suddenly dropped when Maggie mentioned she could tell her anything, "I know, It's just... It's been so fucking long." She said, tears starting to slowly bubble in her eyes. Dianna walked in slowly as she heard Fae swear, knowing she barely swore unless she was very angry or stressed. "What's going on-" She started before she saw Fae holding her wrist. "Fae..." She started before Maggie mentioned about the Spookapalooza. "Right, I'm ready." She said as she looked down to herself before looking to Maggie and Fae. Fae had managed to change into dark black skinny jeans with a black tank top, which revealed small cuts and marks over her shoulders and back. "I'll explain things when we get back." Fae said as she readied herself to leave, "Come on." They went together to the entertainment grounds, Fae immediately was entranced by the atmosphere and she stopped in her tracks, allowing Dianna and Maggie to continue onwards. Dianna walked off from the other two girls and started trying to strike up conversation with anyone she could in order to ask if anyone saw anything abnormally; annoyingly no one had anything to report. She looked around to try and find her Cousin but couldn't see her either, and now she was too far away to find Fae or Maggie. Damn Fae and her short stature. Fae snapped back to reality as she was bumped into by Scooby, who was walking around finding places to eat. "Scoob!" Fae said with a small smile, moving to run her hand in the great danes fur, "Seen anything weird yet?" She asked, trying not to panic at the fact she couldn't see over anyone around her. "I don't know where to start.." She uttered to herself, glancing sideways to notice a male watching her quietly before she moved towards one of the fire breathers to just take in the atmosphere.</s>
<\|description\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Personality: Fae is incredibly nerdy; a lover of fantasy, sci-fi, music and mystery, it takes a bit to scare her. Known for being cheery, gentle, easy going and playful, she seems to have a minor case of ADHD, particularly shown in her strong, hyper focused affinity for computers and/or anything mechanical. In addition to being overly curious, Fae stays true to the Blake name, often getting herself almost hurt, or into trouble, especially when she is disassembling machines against one's wishes. Though shy around typically large creatures, she absolutely adores animals, especially birds, as they, technically, have a close relation to dinosaurs. Skills & Abilities: -Computer Skills -Taking Apart and Building Machines -Map Making Portrayed By: Whitney Able (adult) Nickname(s)/Alias(es): Dia, Dee, Dye, Anna. Gender: Female. Hair Color: Dark Brown. Eye Color: Deep-Blue. Sexuality: Lesbian. Occupation(s): Archaeologist (formerly), Fashion Designer (full-time), Swim Instructor (volunteer) Affiliation: Mystery Inc. Family: -John Dinkley (father) -Velma Dinkley (cousin) -Dale Dinkley (uncle) -Angie Dinkley (aunt) Dianna is a rather good-looking woman; her hair is always up in a neat Pony-tail or braid, her clothes are often crisp and clean. She is skinny, but not excessively; her body is surprisingly lean due to her swimming. Due to her swimming and her stints with Archeology, her skin is slightly tanned, a few freckles down her arms and over her nose and cheeks. Personality: Dianna was always known her creativity, whilst being the 'Pretty Woman', which easily got her into the Fashion industry. Being dotted over by others from her looks, people often say she was the beauty whereas Velma, whom she cherishes, and never leaves behind, was the brains. Due to this, Dianna is a bit depressed, and a loner, who's very unsure about her own intellect. In addition, even at work, she is curious albeit not that outgoing, with not that many friends, and often left to herself, either seen daydreaming or zoning out, whilst taking notes whenever something comes across her mind. Skills & Abilities: -Clothing and Costume making. -Good Baker. -Knowledge of Dinosaurs. -Strong Swimmer. -Strong Lungs. Portrayed By: Jennifer Love Hewitt (adult)</s> <\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Fae grinned when Scooby spoke to her, before she watched him head off towards supposed Burgers in the bushes. Burgers in the Bushes sounded a bit off to her before she heard her name being called out. She turned towards Maggie's voice, her face suddenly lit up as she walked over towards Maggie. "Maggie!" She said with a tilt of her head, moving to sit beside her on another bar stool. "Anything of importance yet?" She asked with a small frown. She turned to look around for Dianna, but couldn't see her anywhere- Despite the womans height. Dianna slowly looked around as she was getting deeper and deeper into the crowd, panic started to set in as she was being pushed around the group of people. She bumped into Velma and almost fell over her cousin. "Oh god I'm sorry." Dianna said before she realized who she bumped into before she smiled gently to her cousin. "How's it going Velms?" She asked with a bit of a grin.</s> <\|message\|>Maggie Rogers By the time she saw Fae sit next to her, at the bar, she smiled. She shook her head at her question. "Aside from a few creepy glances, I keep getting the same answer: Nothing. No one has seen anything out of the ordinary; no one has noticed anything weird", she said, almost a little disappointed, before looking through the crowd of people. "It feels like it's hiding in plain", as confused as Rogers was; how could Mondevarious be the only one making this claim, if none of the guests would be in agreement? Everybody and everything seemed to be living in a normal fashion, at least, that's what it looked like. It just didn't seem to make any sense...unless they were looking in the wrong places. She was sipping her drink, before she widened her eyes, and raised her eyebrows, placing it back on the counter. "I did catch wind about some old, abandoned ride. Perhaps we should look there", maybe they didn't cover enough areas yet. "It's...actually not a bad idea", just as she said this, the sound of Scooby running from behind the trees, and in a panicky fashion. "R'onster! R'onster!", he shouted, scrambling into the arms on Shaggy. "A monster?", he asked, before looking in the direction where his dog came. However, instead of a "monster", it was some guy in a giant bunny costume. "Scooby Doo, like, quit goofing around man", he scolded him, putting him down. Maggie frowned, before she too looked back in the direction that the Great Dane ran from. "We should follow the path. Maybe we'll nail ourselves a culprit".</s> <\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Fae frowned at the mention of finding nothing, now that she had the height of the bar chair she looked up and around slowly. She couldn't see Dianna just yet, nor could she see anyone else before Scooby ran over past them to his friend. "Monster?" She asked before she looked over towards where Scooby went before she looked towards Maggie. "We're thinking the same thing." Fae said with a grin before she heard footsteps behind her and glanced sideways towards Dianna. Dianna had heard the commotion before she looked towards Fae and Maggie before she gave a small grin. "Small adventure?" She asked as she moved to stand between Dianna and Fae, instinctively looping her arms into theirs like old times. "Let's go." She grinned even more.</s> <\|message\|>Maggie Rogers After seeing the Great Dane run out from between the trees, Maggie had to admit that she was just about ready to stand up from her seat, out of reflex. Thankfully, it turned out to be a misunderstanding. 'Guess old Scoob saw something different in his own mind again' Maggie mused in her mind, before releasing a sigh of relief, and chuckling to herself. She wasn't aware of Dianna walking up towards them, from behind, as she took another drink from her cup. It was until she felt an arm loop inside her own, in a very familiar fashion. Rogers smiled and nodded, taking one more sip, before getting up, and leading the way towards the pathway that Scooby ran from: Through the forest, the trees, and towards the old castle near the beach. She gave a giggle, and took both of their hands. It was like they were best friends again, sneaking off to find excitement. The place surely has seen better days. A question still stood: Why shut down a ride? What was wrong with it? It could have broken down, but why would it still stand? Maggie looked up at the old abandoned castle, having to widen her eyes, and create a slight gap on her lips. "Wow", she said softly, having to be quite appalled. "I know I shouldn't sound critical or judge-y, but how could a place like this be still standing?", based on her observation, it was true. Again, she didn't how long the structure had been here, but it looked just about ready to collapse, at any time. It just seemed very separate from the other sections they've seen so far.</s> <\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Fae grinned happily at Dianna suddenly linking arms with the two of them, and moved with the other two girls with a smile that was probably the biggest she had ever smiled in the past three years. Fae's cheeks flooded deeper red as Maggie grabbed their hands, her heart raced. Dianna allowed Maggie to lead them along, she grinned like an absolute goofball as they got closer and closer to the old ride. "I agree, it's not judgey at all." Dianna said with a small nod, "Unless it's on the list of being fixed?" Fae's eyes widened at the look of the ride, she stepped forward slowly before Dianna moved to grab her shoulder quickly. "Calm down there boy." Dianna said with a bit of a wink towards her friend, her voice snapping Fae from the almost trance she'd get from unknown machines. Fae blinked before she cleared her throat and looked over to Maggie and Dianna with a bit of a grin. "Sorry, you know how I get with... Machines." Fae muttered slightly before she turned back to the ride before looking around a bit more. "We should check it out, but not stray too far from each other."</s> <\|message\|>Maggie Rogers Maggie placed her hands on her hips, as she examined the place a bit more with widening eyes. She turned back to look at the girls, and gave a smile, eyeing them with amusement, shortly before turning back to look at the structure. "Don't worry, Fae. I'll surprise you with something disassembled later, if you put yourself on a leash", she sing-songed, with a toothy grin, before leading the way, up to the front door, that was, somehow, ajar. That feeling was back, causing Rogers to frown. She expected the others to follow, tailing albeit close, behind her - especially since they were out here in the dark, and possibly, alone. Even as the taller girl walked, Maggie looked around, trying to spot something that would help in their investigation. Being careful in her steps, and trying not to trip, the trio approached the open door. Poking her head in first, Maggie found the 'haunted house'-themed ride a lot worse for wear, on the inside. The interiors were wore through, filled with a number of creepy figures...and voices? She turned her head back to the other two, and pushed the door a bit more, unintentionally letting out a loud squeak, which caused a frightened shout, coming from those voices. By the time it was wide open, the sources were none other than her brother, Scooby, and Daphne. Kind of strange to find them here first, but maybe the girls took the long way, while they took a short cut? There was always a possibility.</s> <\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Fae went to argue with Maggie's words before she heard the part about being on a leash and her eyes widened, cheeks suddenly flooding with red in colour. Fae looked to Dianna, who only grinned at Fae's sudden fluster before they both quickly followed the Rogers female inside. "Voices?" Dianna uttered to herself as she looked around, hearing the sounds inside as they slunk through the doorway. The squeak of the door caused Fae to bounce and ready herself to attack something, but she slowly relaxed after a moment of nothing moving towards her. Dianna looked back to Fae and then looked towards the source of the sounds. "Oh hey!" Dianna called to Scooby, Shaggy and Daphne. "Funny finding you guys here." She continued with a bit of a grin. Fae sighed as she saw her cousin and Maggie's sibling; Seeing Scoob made things even better, she really liked that big doofy dog. Fae moved quickly past Dianna and Maggie, moving over to Scooby and started to smush his face in her hands with a little bit of a grin. "I'm glad we found you guys instead of something more scary." Dianna said with a glance towards Fae, "Hey Fae, did you manage to bring any of those recording Drones that you were working on?" She asked after the idea suddenly flooded into her head. Fae blinked slowly, pulling her hands away from Scooby with a bigger smile. "I mean, if I'm allowed to bring them out," She glanced towards Daphne, "I did bring them, but someone doesn't like me showing off my tech."</s> <\|message\|>Maggie Rogers Scooby closed his eyes, and relished in the affection of the young woman, nearly scratching himself with his back foot. Daphne cleared her throat, when her cousin made that comment, before composing herself. "It's not that I don't want you to use your gadgets, Fae. It's just that there are times, where they don't need to be used", it was like the red-head was being careful in choosing her words - slowly, and out of reluctance; she didn't want to hurt her feelings, after speaking her opinion. But then, the very word "opinion" made Daphne realize that's what she has been doing to her cousin, for the past two years. It came to her, right then, and there; just by looking at the other girl: All those times of Fae, being quieter than normal, trying to convince her on rekindling with their old friends. It tugged her heart. Was she already hurting her feelings, and not being aware of it? What snapped her out of her conscious, was the loud opening of another door, which caused Shaggy to jump into Scooby's arms. Maggie flinched at the sound, but relaxed when she came to see that it was only Fred, making her brother casually descended from the talking dog's grasp. Any more surprises, during this night? "Fred, I found this place first. I call dibs on its clues", Daphne declared to him, remarkably going back to her much-more confident facade. "I've already found some clues", he said. "What?", she, in return, questioned, feeling the approach of defeat. "I've also found a few things", Velma's voice sounded, stepping out of a hallway. "This ride was closed, due to dangerous construction. It's the perfect place for hatching up an insidious plan." "Well, since we're all together, let's split up. Daphne and Fae, search this entrance; Velma and I will take the passage over there; Maggie and 'Anna...keep an eye on Shaggy and Scooby, after you go through that entrance", he gestured to the door on the other side of the room. "Sounds good", Maggie responded, relieved that they were all working together for once. With that, they all split up to their respective positions.</s>	<\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Fae immediately looked towards Fred and Velma as they appeared. She seemed to relax a bit before she looked over to Daphne as she was told to go with her before she nodded and stepped over to her cousin, she looked over towards Maggie and Dianna almost longingly. "I think I have a more of a quiet drone if we need." Fae uttered, moreso to herself, out loud. She moved her hand instinctively to the pocket that held the tiny drone, folded up in order for it to stay hidden. Dianna looked over towards Shaggy and Scooby as she was told to look after them. Baby-sitting duty again, unsurprising to Dianna at this point but she smiled anyway. "You guys okay?" She asked the older Rogers and the Great Dane, she gave an almost motherly smile to them before she looked towards Maggie with a small sparkle in her eyes.</s>
<\|description\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Personality: Fae is incredibly nerdy; a lover of fantasy, sci-fi, music and mystery, it takes a bit to scare her. Known for being cheery, gentle, easy going and playful, she seems to have a minor case of ADHD, particularly shown in her strong, hyper focused affinity for computers and/or anything mechanical. In addition to being overly curious, Fae stays true to the Blake name, often getting herself almost hurt, or into trouble, especially when she is disassembling machines against one's wishes. Though shy around typically large creatures, she absolutely adores animals, especially birds, as they, technically, have a close relation to dinosaurs. Skills & Abilities: -Computer Skills -Taking Apart and Building Machines -Map Making Portrayed By: Whitney Able (adult) Nickname(s)/Alias(es): Dia, Dee, Dye, Anna. Gender: Female. Hair Color: Dark Brown. Eye Color: Deep-Blue. Sexuality: Lesbian. Occupation(s): Archaeologist (formerly), Fashion Designer (full-time), Swim Instructor (volunteer) Affiliation: Mystery Inc. Family: -John Dinkley (father) -Velma Dinkley (cousin) -Dale Dinkley (uncle) -Angie Dinkley (aunt) Dianna is a rather good-looking woman; her hair is always up in a neat Pony-tail or braid, her clothes are often crisp and clean. She is skinny, but not excessively; her body is surprisingly lean due to her swimming. Due to her swimming and her stints with Archeology, her skin is slightly tanned, a few freckles down her arms and over her nose and cheeks. Personality: Dianna was always known her creativity, whilst being the 'Pretty Woman', which easily got her into the Fashion industry. Being dotted over by others from her looks, people often say she was the beauty whereas Velma, whom she cherishes, and never leaves behind, was the brains. Due to this, Dianna is a bit depressed, and a loner, who's very unsure about her own intellect. In addition, even at work, she is curious albeit not that outgoing, with not that many friends, and often left to herself, either seen daydreaming or zoning out, whilst taking notes whenever something comes across her mind. Skills & Abilities: -Clothing and Costume making. -Good Baker. -Knowledge of Dinosaurs. -Strong Swimmer. -Strong Lungs. Portrayed By: Jennifer Love Hewitt (adult)</s> <\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Fae immediately looked towards Fred and Velma as they appeared. She seemed to relax a bit before she looked over to Daphne as she was told to go with her before she nodded and stepped over to her cousin, she looked over towards Maggie and Dianna almost longingly. "I think I have a more of a quiet drone if we need." Fae uttered, moreso to herself, out loud. She moved her hand instinctively to the pocket that held the tiny drone, folded up in order for it to stay hidden. Dianna looked over towards Shaggy and Scooby as she was told to look after them. Baby-sitting duty again, unsurprising to Dianna at this point but she smiled anyway. "You guys okay?" She asked the older Rogers and the Great Dane, she gave an almost motherly smile to them before she looked towards Maggie with a small sparkle in her eyes.</s> <\|message\|>Maggie Rogers Maggie shrugged apologetically towards Fae, before her lips curled into an amused smile, when she noticed the other place her hand in her pocket to pull something far-too-familiar. She kept the thought to herself, knowing that it was Fae's clever nature to be sneaky with her gadgets. By the time she led the way through a hallway, Shaggy and Scooby cautiously yet sheepishly followed behind, having to already feel the nerves of being in such a dark and abandoned place. Of course, like Fae, Dianna wouldn't hesitate on joining her, since the three women were very much inseparable. It wasn't anything new, to the rest of the gang, since Maggie was known for her tendency of playing 'leader' for the other two. In fact, one would think (if anyone knew) that this was probably one of the very things that made the female Rogers so enticing; why Dianna and Fae follow her lead, and why it seemed like they were enamored with her. Was it her courage? Her airheadedness? Her unpredictable nature? Her...beauty? So many theories. She may have missed Dianna looking at her, by the time they turned a corner. Her question towards her older sibling and his dog made Maggie reach back to take his hand, and give it a gentle squeeze, hoping that the gesture alone would help him, after seeing him gulp. It seemed to, considering that she felt him relax. Upon reaching a door, she let go of him, by the time she approached it. Quietly, the female Rogers opened it, and poked her head through; Shaggy following her action, above her, with Scooby whimpering, below them. "It's okay, boy", she said softly, petting him, before taking hold of Dianna's hand, and pushed the structure more. This revealing room seemed to be modeled into that of a dining room, or a kitchen.</s> <\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Dianna watched the three Rogers with a bit of a smirk before she looked through the doorway. She looked around the dining room like area and stepped through, blinking as Maggie grabbed her hand. "Oh wow." She said out loud, "This place is... Gorgeous." She said as she spun around slowly, taking in the room completely. "Spooky," She continued with a bit of a grin, "I love it." --- Fae walked along with Daphne, keeping her eyes up as she looked around. She held her compact Drone in her hand, just in case they needed it for later. "I still think it is a good idea to use them." She spoke under her breath as she glanced down at her hands before she gave a glance towards Daphne, her eyes moved away as Daphne looked back at her to answer. She kept her eyes out for anything out of the ordinary, paying attention to everything she could see. She felt the urge to use the drone, despite everything that Daphne told her not to, it would help, it had a small inferred camera in it to help with the darkness around the two of them.</s> <\|message\|>Maggie Rogers Snickering at the other girl's comment, Maggie walked to a section of the room to look around, having to let go of her hand, in order to get a closer look at the wall. Shaggy and Scooby immediately looked at the spread on the table, covered with food, clearly mesmerized by the sight. She knew it wasn't real but, the real question is, do they know it is fake? Left alone at the entrance of the haunted house, along with her cousin, there was a clear, awkward tension between them. Daphne had been trying to open a door back in the front room, but it wouldn't budge. She really didn't know what to say, in the moment, other than to try and voice out her realization of how much pain she was giving the brunette. Especially, right now. "Come on, Fae. There's plenty of light", she argued, as if she was answering her cousin's thoughts. Giving the door another push, the red-head grunted, but it still didn't budge. Huffing, she decided to put her newly-earned black belt to good use, and gave the door a mighty kick, which seemed to have worked. However, she was unaware of the power around them, mysteriously, turning itself on. All around them, animatronics started to move, creepy laughter and sounds reverberated, and strobe lights starting flashing. Caught off guard in surprise, Daphne was unaware of one of the ride's automobiles, rolling on the tracks, in her direction. Before she knew it, she was picked up, and being dragged through the tunnels, yelling. "Fae!" Meanwhile, just as laughter echoed throughout the castle, one of the floorboards underneath Dianna gave out, representing a trapdoor. Before she could fall all the way through, Maggie was quick to act, grabbing her hand, catching her. Shaggy and Scooby screamed, finding themselves on a wall by...sausage links? "What do we do?!", the talking dog yelled.</s> <\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Fae was quick to notice the power suddenly turning on, moving to reach out to Daphne. "D-Daph...-" She started before she watched the automobiles snagging her cousin. "Daph!" She called out in worry as she was carried off. Adrenaline flooded her body before she started to sprint off after the ride. She wasn't the fittest, but she was incredibly happy she was wearing her sneakers rather than any fancy shoes. Instinctively she let go of her drone and it immediately started to fly quickly after her, buzzing around her like a bee. Fae paid no attention to the animatronics, she knew they caused her to panic. She hated them ever since she was grabbed accidentally by one when she was around 7 years old, becoming older helped with the fear of them attacking her on their own works- but it was still ingrained. She had read too many things about haunted mechanics, too many nights up late reading books, articles and stories anywhere she could. She moved to tap her pockets as she ran, swearing silently to herself for not bringing a faster drone than B.V. "B.V go ahead," She said as she continued to push herself to run, "Please find Daph." The drone spun around her head before starting to fly faster than her and disappeared into the hallways in front of her. "Shit!" Dianna swore as she started to fall, Maggie's hand grabbing hers to pull her out. She pulled herself up with Maggies help and shook herself off before she looked around with a bit of a sneer. "What was that?" She looked to Maggie with a worried look. She glanced towards the boys with a blink as she heard them yell. "Did you hear that laughter?"</s> <\|message\|>Maggie Rogers Maggie had mixed feelings of confusion, fear, and disappointment, especially when chaos ensued. She looked down at Dianna, clinging onto her for dear life. Rogers caught a glimpse of what was below them...a room of pure darkness. There was no way she was going to leave the young woman to that, so with the amount of strength that she had, Maggie began to pull her up, the best she could. Eventually, with their combined strength, they've managed to reach the top...making Maggie crouch down, and continue to pull her up, until she came next to her. At her question, the female Rogers looked up at the ceiling for a few seconds, before hearing the screams of Shaggy and Scooby, who appeared to be stuck on a wall, trapped and surrounded by a bunch of different kinds of meat. Quickly, Maggie raced to them, trying to find a way to release them. Scooby was too much in a panic, while Shaggy tried to stay brave, but not for very long...as he screamed in terror when an animatronic creature came out of the wall, hissing. What were they going to do? They couldn't pull them out, since the fake food on the wall, seemed to be sticking them there. "Come on, Dianna, help me!", Maggie said, trying to keep herself, as she attempted to free the boys. Somewhere, Fred, Daphne, and Velma weren't having any better luck. The red-head was still being dragged by the automobile, clinging onto it for dear life, mumbling to herself. "I'm not helpless; I'm not helpless", she said to herself, unaware of her cousin's drone hovering above her. She was far too focused on what was in front of her and, if it can't get any worse, there was a wall, up ahead, with blades protruding from it. "I am helpless; I'm gonna die!", she realized with a frightened yell, dread falling down on her. Fred and Velma were trying to outrun a few obstacles, but eventually, in what seemed like forever, (although it was accidental) the leader managed to find the switch that seemed to have powered everything. The moment he flipped it, everything stopped; the animatronics going back to their original spots, as if they haven't moved at all, and the automobile that Daphne was stuck on, immediately halted...a few inches away from the wall, that could have sealed her fate. Hearing the buzzing, she looked up to see her cousin's drone, and stared at it, before detaching herself from the car. Tilting her head, she shakily smiled at it. It wouldn't have been a bad idea, after all. By the time everything stopped, Shaggy was in pure happiness. "We made it. We're alive!", he was clearly thrilled, along with Maggie, who laughed with him, until the wall her brother was stuck on, tilted backwards, back to its original position. With a yelp, it dragged the young women, along with it, causing them to fall, next to the owner and his dog. "Whew!", Maggie sighed, just as the wind was knocked out of her, shortly after landing on the ground. "That was weird", the male Rogers commented from next to her, looking at the ceiling.</s>	<\|message\|>Dianna Paula Dinkley. Dianna stumbled into a standing position as she ran after Maggie, not wanting to be left alone just yet. She managed to get to them as Shaggy and Scooby had gotten out of the meat holding them to the wall. She moved to help everyone up with a weak, almost worried smile. "We alright?" She asked, looking at everyone before something clicked in her head. "Fae." She suddenly started. She looked to Maggie with a worried look, "Fae's scared of robots like the stuff here." She continued almost worriedly. B.V buzzed around Daphne's head for a bit, before darting up and the lights underneath it suddenly it up as it started to take some photos. Footsteps echoed around as Fae rounded the corner and stumbled, "Daph!" She called out, moving quickly and pulling her up into a tight hug. Fae didn't even pay attention to B.V was it buzzed around their heads, continuing to take photos of where they were. "Oh my god I was so worried. I'm so sorry." She mumbled quickly, holding Daphne close to her and almost sobbing into her chest as she did so.</s>
<\|description\|>Ruth Blackwater Age: 23 Race: Appears human Job/title: Heir to the Blackwater corp. Skills: Singing, observant, the rest to be roleplayed. Hobbies: Hanging out at her fave coffee shop, watching storms, singing, seeing operas/shows. Likes: Rain, romance, coffee, wine, reading, scary movies. Dislikes: Rudeness, hypocrites, doing nothing. Appearance: 5"6', waist length red hair and brownish red eyes. She's slender though toned and has gentle and slightly rounded features. Other: Originally from where old England would have been, with the accent to match. Backstory: Ruth is the heir to the Blackwater corp, which is a corporation dedicated to green living, plants, and modern day solutions to sustainability for everyone. She is only still learning about the company and tries her best to ensure she takes in as much information at any chance that it presents itself. Her lineage started so far back that sometimes even her own father, Rudy can't keep track anymore. Ruth's mother died though in an accident at work, though Ruth still doesn't have any clear answers as to what really happened, due to her father never wanting to speak about it. The rest is to be roleplayed.</s> <\|message\|>Nora Anne Huxter The Global Positioning System displays an arrow on the path through Nora's Digital Interfacing Gear, indicating her turn is in 100 meters. As she neared her turn, the client's song wound down and the next started up, blasting the newest, loudest, and most nonsensical of modern music. With a groan, she picked up speed. At least this client isn't inclined to converse about nothingness that is small matters, or isn't asking questions to which the answers are none of their business. Or crying. That may very well be the worst. At least the clients that are trying to get a cheeky make-out session in the back of her aircraft mostly have the good graces to keep it down. The D.I.G. pops up with a warning- Your destination is on the left. Docking the aircraft on the pad, the music cuts out as the client gets a notification of the transit fee. Once the transaction is approved the doors open and the client departs. The music syncs back up with Nora's preferences as the door closes. Flipping off her "On Duty" status, Nora gets clearance for take-off from the Air Traffic AI. With a deep sigh, borne from boredom and hunger, she takes to the skyways. The com beeps with and incoming communication. Accepting the call, a voice takes over the audio in Nora's earphones. "I have a pick up on Broadcoast requesting you. Are you off already?" "I'm on my union mandated lunch break, Tory." This happens all. the. time. Skye-Way Air Taxi is becoming more popular every day and they cannot keep up with staffing. The union means nothing when it means the company will lose a client. What once was a decent job quickly turned into a nightmare, and it's one Nora lives every day. A conflicted sigh comes through the com, and then silence. It wasn't Nora's job to ease their minds over overworking their drivers, and she sure as hell wasn't about the break the silence first. "Look, Huxter, we need you. How about we comp you your lunch? Just get over to Broadcost." "Understood." Nora ends the communication with frustration. Blackwater Corp couldn't get back to her about her application soon enough. Well, she may as well pick up some food and socially accepted chemical dependence on the way. Nora keys in the location of the little gem she recently found on her G.P.S., The Emerald Garden.</s> <\|message\|>Ruth Blackwater Ruth watched out the big glass windows as beads of rain began to form on the outside. She smiled softly to herself as she carefully brought the hot mug of chai up to her lips, sipping it slowly. It went down with ease despite it's heat, and began to warm her from the inside out. Relaxing into the chair, she noticed a young male enter the shop, though he didn't seem too familiar with the place. She felt as though she had seen him around somewhere, but couldn't quite place him in a fully accessible memory. She simply shrugged it off as mistaking him for another. Taking in his features though, she figured he had to be around her age, give or take a couple of years. He seemed to be waiting for something or someone, so Ruth turned her attention back to her chai for a few moments. She closed her eyes this time with the next sip, listening to the bell ring again as another person entered. It sure was busy this afternoon, though she normally didn't get here until closer to four or five. When Ruth opened her eyes again, they shifted from the mug of chai, to the newcomer who had entered. This person looked to be older than Ruth. His hair was slicked back slightly and he had firm but handsome features with facial hair to accent them. He wore business attire with a cape that moved with him. He looked very formal to be visiting the Emerald Garden though, so this made Ruth curious. Her eyes followed him as he moved further into the shop, and he also seemed to be looking for someone. Her eyebrow arched up, though she realized she was probably staring a little too obviously. To distract herself, she dug into her brown leather backpack, finding her wireless headphones and put them into her ears, putting one one of her current favorite songs "Electric Love" by BORNS. She allowed the music to fill her spirit, and bobbed her head along to the beat, taking her time to finish her drink while people passed outside the window.</s> <\|message\|>A-4433-CDNO (Arthur) The Emerald Garden was filling up fast! Since Arthur had entered, a tall buisness man with a cape, two couples, and a group of six apparently having a lunch meeting have walked into the now bustling cafe. Arthur was not at all comfortable about all these variables in his well constructed plan. He ordered a cup of black coffee and slammed it back immediately, placing the mug on the counter in front of the now concerned looking barista. He took a deep breath, and started walking straight towards Ruth Blackwater, all concerns of approaching cautiously now forgotten. He feared he didn't have the time adjust his plans on the fly, he didn't have the leisure to adjust his approach as the variables presented themselves. He had to take action now or risk not having an opportunity later. He arrived at the table Ruth was sitting at. She was absorbed in her music as she stared at the beverage she was holding loosely with her left hand. Her hair covered her eyes on the side Arthur had approached and she didn't see him out of her peripheral vision. After a few seconds of Arthur standing there awkwardly she perhaps finally felt his presence and turned to look up towards him, taking one of her electronic sound suppliers out of her ears and arching her eyebrows in what Arthur recognized as a look of intrigue. This was it. Everything that he had prepared for in the last two weeks had finally climaxed to this moment. He was prepared and ready. The words he was about to say and the things he'd tell her about project Chrysalis would most definitely shape the future for better or worse. He nodded internally (something he was not aware he could to until that moment) and opened his mouth to start his story. "Mhmm Arthur." he mumbled She took her other other electronic ear piece out and turned to face him with a confused look on her face. Before she could say anything though Arthur simply stated he'd be right back and made a run for the restroom. His face felt hot and he felt a little like he would power down like he does when he goes into sentry mode at night. He slammed the restroom door open, locked himself inside and started to laugh hysterically, not quite sure exactly what was going on except that he might be malfunctioning. He needed to tell her, about project Chrysalis! And he would... right after he washed his face and found some words to say.</s> <\|message\|>Talon Karde Talon entered the promenade to a bustling cafe. He thought about grabbing a coffee but they didn't make cappuccino like your supposed to so he thought better and just watched Blackwater staff attending to gardening. It was quite a nice place to sit and watch thought Talon. Still...too much of a commercial setting. He clasped his hands behind his back and watched some of the patrons. It seemed a guy had summed up courage to ask a younger lady out but had chickened out at the last second running to a nearby bathroom. Talon just shook his head. "Gotta have confidence kid". From behind A voice boomed. "Mr. Kaarde, to what do I owe this pleasure?". Talon turned to see Mr. Blackwater himself, flanked by 4 suited protection agents. Big and hulking, no doubt full of chemicals and cybernetically enhanced as was the norm these days. He definitely looked tired to which Talon would take advantage of. As he approaches Talon extends his hand "Mr. Blackwater, I appreciate you taking the time to see me, I will make this quick as I know you are a busy man". Blackwater asks "Quick and Dirty? Or on the level?". "When have I steered you wrong?" Asked Kaarde. "Never and that's how I intend it Talon" stated Rudy, ushering Talon to a table with the younger girl. "Have a seat, and let me introduce you to my daughter Ruth. I'm trying to teach her a thing or too before I forget all I know". "I'll never forget so don't you worry" Talon semi seriously said. "However we will leave that for another time". Talon grabbed Ruth's hand to kiss it gently and said "Pleasure to meet you Ms. Blackwater. My name is Talon Kaarde and it's a pleasure to do business with you!"</s> <\|message\|>Nora Anne Huxter Docking in the landing area, Nora secures the aircraft and buttons up her uniform jacket. The weather is miserable and only seems to get wetter by the minute. Taking her D.I.G. off and placing it on the ledge near the door, Nora hops out and locks up. Her stomach rumbles. After a brisk walk she found herself in the warm sanctuary of the Emerald Garden. This cafe embodies everything Nora came to the Home Planet for. The lush, healthy plants that are meticulously cared for, the peaceful atmosphere, the kind staff, the content patrons, and the intoxicating aroma of coffee, spice, and flowers. As this was her third visit to the cafe she isn't overly familiar with the menu or the staff, but she has yet to be disappointed by either. Looking around and noticing that everyone else seems to be with a friend, lover, or colleagues, Nora suddenly felt silly for being alone. Regret over leaving her D.I.G. in the aircraft washed over with her. At least if she had it she wouldn't have to people watch. Instead, her finger nails suddenly became intensely interesting until it was her turn to order. "Hey there, what can I get you?" The barista, SASHA her nametag read, asked. "Oh, sorry. Can I get the third drink on your menu and the third meal on your menu, to go?" Nora requested, looking up from her nails. "Do you have a mug you would like to use?" Sasha asked as she rung up the total. "No, I'll just rent one." "Sure thing. How did you want to pay?" Nora picked up the ID card that hung around her neck and tapped it to the payment terminal. Rejected. Goddam Tory hasn't loaded her meal allowance onto her staff ID. Nora smiles weakly at Sasha as she pulls out her personal communications device and taps that instead. A receipt flashes on the screen as she shoves in back into her pocket. "Your order will be up on that counter over there." Sasha indicates to the counter further down. Nora heads over to the washroom, a quick pitstop before heading back to the sky. She tries to open to door but it's locked, it must be occupied. Nora goes to stand with the other waiting for their orders.</s>	<\|message\|>Ruth Blackwater Lost in her music for a while, Ruth hadn't noticed the young man walking toward her. Once he approached though, she could feel his aura and presence. She turned her head, taking one of her ear buds out of her ear, watching him curiously. He looked pretty serious, like he had something important to say. Instead of anything of importance coming from his mouth, all he said was "Mhmm Arthur." In response, Ruth furrowed her brow and took out the other ear bud, turning her head slightly in confusion. She opened her mouth to introduce herself, when suddenly he ran off to the public washroom. Only a few minutes later, she heard a very familiar voice, and another that was unfamiliar. Even though she shouldn't feel anxious, she suddenly was as the sound of her father's voice surrounded her. With this, Ruth sat up straight and watched as the unknown gentleman, who she had watched enter the cafe what seemed like only minutes ago, lift her hand and kiss it. She had a tendency to lose track of the time while she was here, so she really didn't know how long she had been sitting there. But either way, that didn't matter. She felt weird that her dad was hanging out at her favorite coffee shop. She didn't want to be rude though, so she smiled a soft smile at the man, listening him to him introduce himself as Talon Kaarde. Apparently there would be some deal going on? She was wary of him and her eyes narrowed just slightly. "Well Dad, it was... So nice to see you here... At my favorite coffee place... But I think I should get going and head home. After all, you told me not to be late tomorrow," Ruth said, trying to sound nonchalant but more than likely failing at that. With this she turned to Talon once more, speaking a little less awkwardly, "It was nice to meet you, Talon. I'm sure I'll be seeing more of you." Ruth grabbed the now empty mug, and turned, walking swiftly away toward the special drop box for used dish ware. She dropped the mug in gently, and glanced around quickly. She noticed a woman with braids seeming to be waiting for her order. With that thought, Sasha had called out the order and Ruth watched as the woman took it. It was then she noticed she was wearing the typical driver uniform. She sighed in relief, moving quickly over to her and tapping her softly on the shoulder. "Hi. Sorry to bother you during your break, but I was wondering if I could get a ride back to my apartment... Like, as quickly as possible. I need to get out of here."</s>
<\|description\|>Ruth Blackwater Age: 23 Race: Appears human Job/title: Heir to the Blackwater corp. Skills: Singing, observant, the rest to be roleplayed. Hobbies: Hanging out at her fave coffee shop, watching storms, singing, seeing operas/shows. Likes: Rain, romance, coffee, wine, reading, scary movies. Dislikes: Rudeness, hypocrites, doing nothing. Appearance: 5"6', waist length red hair and brownish red eyes. She's slender though toned and has gentle and slightly rounded features. Other: Originally from where old England would have been, with the accent to match. Backstory: Ruth is the heir to the Blackwater corp, which is a corporation dedicated to green living, plants, and modern day solutions to sustainability for everyone. She is only still learning about the company and tries her best to ensure she takes in as much information at any chance that it presents itself. Her lineage started so far back that sometimes even her own father, Rudy can't keep track anymore. Ruth's mother died though in an accident at work, though Ruth still doesn't have any clear answers as to what really happened, due to her father never wanting to speak about it. The rest is to be roleplayed.</s> <\|message\|>Ruth Blackwater After listening to the driver's proposition of tagging along for another pick up and drop off, Ruth nodded in agreement. She was sure it wouldn't be too bad, and much less awkward than how she felt currently. Her mind wandered back to Kaarde for a moment. She had a natural curiosity about him, but also a professional one. If she was going to eventually be in charge, she would need to know who was good people and who wasn't. Ruth's thoughts were cut short though as the sound of glass breaking and rock smashing filled the cafe behind her. She turned her head slightly to try to look over her shoulder, but was quickly hit with pieces of rock and cement against her back and the side of her head, causing her temple down to her jaw to be torn open on the right side of her face. She was shoved forward and toward the ground at the impact, and the last thought to go through her mind was of her dad. After that was blackness. The blackness wasn't necessarily scary, but it wasn't exactly comforting. If this is what death was like, then Ruth was sure it could be much much worse. Though, she wasn't entirely sure that this was really death perse. She felt somewhat aware, though not conscious. Come on Ruth, you need to wake up she thought to herself. She struggled to get herself to open her eyes, and when she finally did, she realized the searing and throbbing pain in her face and head. The rest of her body felt fine, but stiff. She groaned slightly, trying to gather where she was, but it was still pretty dark. She could tell however that she was seated behind someone. Her thoughts shifted again to her dad, and an audible sob escaped her lips. She barely even noticed that the room they were in, was flying. Ruth tried to wipe the tears from her eyes, only to have the back of her hand smeared with blood. She could smell it as her arm shifted back down to her lap. She wondered how bad the injury was. It hurt, yes, but she wouldn't know until she could see herself. She felt the person move to be more in front of Ruth, and then the sound of a gun cocking filled the little room. "What happened? Where are we? And is my dad okay?" Ruth stammered, her throat tight with the threat of more tears.</s> <\|message\|>Talon Karde Talon had passed out before the individual addressing his wounds could finish. He had lost alot of blood and despite his fight or flight mechanics kicking in was not prepared for anything less than anti-grav in a sensory deprivation capsule. During the time he was blacked out he dreamt of soft white sand beaches and a lush jungle cruise. His dream state was awoken by a jolt to his sternum and the flash of lights until all went quiet again. He squinted his eyes open to discover that he was face down on the ground and had a mouthful of dirt. He used his one hand to push himself up to his feet and steadied himself on the disposal truck as he caught his breath. He looked up to see the driver fumbling to open a storage compartment. Talon tried to stumble towards the individual leaving a bloody streak on the side of the truck. His ears still ringing he saw the storage door open. The driver began talking and had his hands up but for what reason Talon did not know nor could understand. He slowly kept creeping towards the driver and began to get weaker. He reached for his belt and keyed several buttons on it for an emergency call to his home. He stumbled missing a step as the blood loss began to overtake him and he reached out to grab hold of the individual however he dove to the ground which put Talon on a collision course with the ground. He landed in front of the storage door with no arm to brace himself. The pain sent a shock through his body, but before he passed out once more he was able to see a lone figure rolling and then running away with what seemed inhuman speed.</s> <\|message\|>A-4433-CDNO (Arthur) Arthur stared at the handgun in Nora's hands. It was small but lethal and he was hard to miss at this range. He looked Nora in the eyes, raised his hands to be level with his ears, palms facing outwards as a sign of non aggression and started to speak. "Hello. There has been a terrible tragedy inside the Emerald Garden." "This recycling truck that you are sitting in drove through the shop front and plowed into the back wall destroying most of the building. Then two men entered the premises with laser rifles and started gunning down the survivors." He paused letting her take in this information before continuing. "I managed to save you and two others from the gunmen however the gentleman on the other side of the truck is in very serious condition and needs medical attention. The authorities will be here soon and it is imperative I do not get detained or questioned by them." "After your investigation by the cops if you and the other two would like to meet me at the Maxwin Bird Sanctuary I will do my best to answer your questions and further protect you from your assailants, as I do not believe they will be happy there are witnesses to their crimes." And just like that Arthur dove to the ground, landing flat on his chest and rolling under the truck to the other side trying to evade a potential gun shot. There was none as Arthur lept to his feet and started sprinting away from the truck and approaching sirens. It didn't take long before he disappeared into the forming crowd successfully escaping the survivors, and the local authorities.</s> <\|message\|>Nora Anne Huxter The young man disappeared from view in the blink of an eye. Did he say the authorities are on their way? Shit. Nora hopped down from the container and felt her body complain as she made contact with the ground. She turned around and offered her hand to the young woman who was still in the container. "I don't know about your dad, but I promised to get you home. Everything else can wait. Come on." Nora extended her hand in an offer to help her down. The woman, Ruth, took the hand and climbed out. "Go climb in." Nora nods towards the front of the vehicle before making her way to the man laying on the ground. Under the blood, dirt, and missing arm, the man wore fancy clothes and seemed well-groomed. Nora crouched down beside him and felt for vitals. He needed medical attention, and the sooner the better. It looked as though some first response medical care had already been administered, but she wasn't sure it would hold up for very long. Nora glanced towards the vehicle. She couldn't stick around to deal with the authorities. As an immigrant, she couldn't afford any trouble. She also couldn't go back on her word to get the girl home. As a trained soldier, she couldn't bring herself to leave someone behind. And then there were the civilians that were beginning to gather... Fuck fuck FUCK fuck fuck-fuck. Another quick glance to the vehicle and her mind was made up. One deep breath and Nora began to collect the man. She draped him around her shoulders in an effort to distribute his weight easier, but pain shot through her senses. From midback up to her occipital, causing flashes of colorful lights to momentarily blind her. Another deep breath, which only caused more pain. Fine, shallow breathes it is. With deliberate steps, Nora brought the man to the passenger side. "Scoot over," Nora instructed the woman. Sliding the man off of her shoulder and into the passenger seat, "hold him upright." Nora slammed the bent door closed and rushed around to the driver's side. Where the cab attaches to the airship attachment is an emergency release mechanism. Can't go wrong with classics, I guess. How much longer do I have before first responders are on the scene? I need to go faster. Nora used her Personal Communications device to quickly override the safety measures and release the cab. Vaulting into the driver's side and engaging the Ground Delivery mech, Nora could feel the wheels engage. Starting the cab engine, she revved up and felt the front cab detached from the ship compartments. With the second rev the cab came free. "Okay, crew, hang on." The forward motion was off balance and clumsy, but it was forward movement nonetheless. In just a few moments they were off of the field and onto the streets. This is going to gather too much attention. We need cover. We need medical attention. Nora flicked her eyes to the right to see the young woman holding the man up and trying to stabilize him against the jerking motions of the vehicle. Another wave of regret overcame Nora for leaving her D.I.G. in the goddam airship. Where are we? On the side of the road up ahead is a big blue H sign. Perhaps Providence was real, after all. With a little bit of common sense and helpful road signs, Nora found the district's hospital. "Search his pockets for any identification, we're almost there." Turning into the ground level Emergency Intake entrance, Nora did a visual sweep of the area. Was there somewhere with the poorest visual coverage from surveillance? Medical professionals started to open the doors and bring out stretchers. Someone must have seen the vehicle and made assumptions. Nora came to a stop just short of where the medical professionals were. Shrugging off her uniform jacket, she handed it to the young woman. "I will drive you home in five minutes. Any more than five and you might need to find your own way. Put this on and wait outside the closest off duty skyship." Without waiting for a response Nora slid out and went around to confront the fast approaching crowd. Please let her be clever enough to get away before I open this door. "Help! I have a man who needs emergency attention!"</s>	<\|message\|>Ruth Blackwater Ruth could hear sirens approaching and she could feel the tension building in the small space. The driver then hopped out of the contained area and offered her hand to Ruth, who took it thankfully, following out of the vehicles storage space. "Go climb in." the woman said, and Ruth followed the instructions. She moved stiffly toward the cab of the truck and got in, moving into the middle after only a few moments. The driver then brought an extremely injured Talon to the side and Ruth opened the door and helped her put him in the seat next to her. Ruth held him up the best she could and found his I.D. She handed it to the woman and glanced at her face for a long moment while she pulled into the Hospital medical emergency bay. Medical staff were already on their way out with stretchers, their expressions worried but professional in the same instance. Before exiting the vehicle the woman shrugged her jacket off and handed it to Ruth. She took it and slipped it on easily. She waited for a few moments while the woman gathered the attention of herself and Talon and then slipped out of the truck to find an off duty skyship. She tried to ensure her expression was casual, but kept her head down. The man who seemed to have flew them to the field had said something about the Maxwin Bird Sanctuary, but she wasn't sure if it was real or not. It definitely wasn't said to her directly if it was said at all. On her watch she glanced at the time. It had been three minutes. Anxiety bubbled up into her throat and she tried to hold back tears. "She still has two minutes... Relax Ruth..."</s>
<\|description\|>Nora Anne Huxter Age: Was 23 when I was put in cryo for 15 years. I have been out of cryo for 2 years, so 25. Race: Human Job/Title: -Former Exploration & Military Pilot for the A.R.K. Space Station. -Current Sky Taxi driver -Free-lace fiction author is spare time (mostly fan fiction...) Skills: Pilot, aircraft mechanics, close quarters combat, air warcraft, navigation Hobbies: Writing, reading, long walks on the beach Likes: Fairytales! Talking with my family. Fresh foods. Dislikes: People telling me how to do my god damn job! Appearance: Dark hair that has natural white/silver streaks in it, but I keep them dyed fun colors. Hair is kept in braids at all times, typically two braids on my time and a french braid while working. Standing at 5'5" you wouldn't imagine I am very imposing, but with a resting bitch face and killer skills, I don't have a lot of strangers approaching me. Weird, I know. Uhh, my eyes are hazel. I'm sorry, how much detail do you really need on this application? Other: Fun fact! Due to the specific environmental conditions around the A.R.K., anyone born aboard has some amount of pigment loss. Most common is lack of pigmentation in the hair, but it has presented itself in some pretty unique ways. It is also speculated that it promotes the male gene, which is why the birth rate of natural born females is so low. A.R.K. has taken to growing them in artificial wombs withing the last 75 years. Backstory: Born to Hugo and Irene Huxter, third generation A.R.K. Mechanics (heavy duty and digital interfacing, respectively). Only daughter of four, my aptitude tests all pointed me to the pilot program. After completing my mandated and technical training I joined the A.R.K. Force, and took to it the way a bird is meant to. When I was twenty I began a long distance relationship with a man from Theonia who made me feel like the princess I always imagined I was. He told me fanciful stories of the beauty and preservation of Theonia, it's natural bounty. I fell in love, not only with him but with his home. A year later I started the process for my immigration to Theonia, ready to reintegrate into the Home Planet. He promised he would wait for my arrival, but I guess 15 years is too long to wait. When I came to a month before arrival, to allow for physiotherapy and integration, I found an electronic communication from him, only three years after I had departed, that he had moved on. He is now married with two children. The bastard. I mean, it's been 13 years for him, but it was fresh for me. I tried to branch out, but was called back to piloting in the position of a taxi service. I would say integration has been difficult up to this point, and I have missed a lot of milestones for my family and friends on the A.R.K. Which brings me to why I am applying to work for Blackwater Corp. As an exploration pilot. I believe that the beauty and preservation of this planet is my calling here, and I look forward to working with you. Thank you for considering my application, Nora A. Huxter</s> <\|message\|>Ruth Blackwater After listening to the driver's proposition of tagging along for another pick up and drop off, Ruth nodded in agreement. She was sure it wouldn't be too bad, and much less awkward than how she felt currently. Her mind wandered back to Kaarde for a moment. She had a natural curiosity about him, but also a professional one. If she was going to eventually be in charge, she would need to know who was good people and who wasn't. Ruth's thoughts were cut short though as the sound of glass breaking and rock smashing filled the cafe behind her. She turned her head slightly to try to look over her shoulder, but was quickly hit with pieces of rock and cement against her back and the side of her head, causing her temple down to her jaw to be torn open on the right side of her face. She was shoved forward and toward the ground at the impact, and the last thought to go through her mind was of her dad. After that was blackness. The blackness wasn't necessarily scary, but it wasn't exactly comforting. If this is what death was like, then Ruth was sure it could be much much worse. Though, she wasn't entirely sure that this was really death perse. She felt somewhat aware, though not conscious. Come on Ruth, you need to wake up she thought to herself. She struggled to get herself to open her eyes, and when she finally did, she realized the searing and throbbing pain in her face and head. The rest of her body felt fine, but stiff. She groaned slightly, trying to gather where she was, but it was still pretty dark. She could tell however that she was seated behind someone. Her thoughts shifted again to her dad, and an audible sob escaped her lips. She barely even noticed that the room they were in, was flying. Ruth tried to wipe the tears from her eyes, only to have the back of her hand smeared with blood. She could smell it as her arm shifted back down to her lap. She wondered how bad the injury was. It hurt, yes, but she wouldn't know until she could see herself. She felt the person move to be more in front of Ruth, and then the sound of a gun cocking filled the little room. "What happened? Where are we? And is my dad okay?" Ruth stammered, her throat tight with the threat of more tears.</s> <\|message\|>Talon Karde Talon had passed out before the individual addressing his wounds could finish. He had lost alot of blood and despite his fight or flight mechanics kicking in was not prepared for anything less than anti-grav in a sensory deprivation capsule. During the time he was blacked out he dreamt of soft white sand beaches and a lush jungle cruise. His dream state was awoken by a jolt to his sternum and the flash of lights until all went quiet again. He squinted his eyes open to discover that he was face down on the ground and had a mouthful of dirt. He used his one hand to push himself up to his feet and steadied himself on the disposal truck as he caught his breath. He looked up to see the driver fumbling to open a storage compartment. Talon tried to stumble towards the individual leaving a bloody streak on the side of the truck. His ears still ringing he saw the storage door open. The driver began talking and had his hands up but for what reason Talon did not know nor could understand. He slowly kept creeping towards the driver and began to get weaker. He reached for his belt and keyed several buttons on it for an emergency call to his home. He stumbled missing a step as the blood loss began to overtake him and he reached out to grab hold of the individual however he dove to the ground which put Talon on a collision course with the ground. He landed in front of the storage door with no arm to brace himself. The pain sent a shock through his body, but before he passed out once more he was able to see a lone figure rolling and then running away with what seemed inhuman speed.</s> <\|message\|>A-4433-CDNO (Arthur) Arthur stared at the handgun in Nora's hands. It was small but lethal and he was hard to miss at this range. He looked Nora in the eyes, raised his hands to be level with his ears, palms facing outwards as a sign of non aggression and started to speak. "Hello. There has been a terrible tragedy inside the Emerald Garden." "This recycling truck that you are sitting in drove through the shop front and plowed into the back wall destroying most of the building. Then two men entered the premises with laser rifles and started gunning down the survivors." He paused letting her take in this information before continuing. "I managed to save you and two others from the gunmen however the gentleman on the other side of the truck is in very serious condition and needs medical attention. The authorities will be here soon and it is imperative I do not get detained or questioned by them." "After your investigation by the cops if you and the other two would like to meet me at the Maxwin Bird Sanctuary I will do my best to answer your questions and further protect you from your assailants, as I do not believe they will be happy there are witnesses to their crimes." And just like that Arthur dove to the ground, landing flat on his chest and rolling under the truck to the other side trying to evade a potential gun shot. There was none as Arthur lept to his feet and started sprinting away from the truck and approaching sirens. It didn't take long before he disappeared into the forming crowd successfully escaping the survivors, and the local authorities.</s>	<\|message\|>Nora Anne Huxter The young man disappeared from view in the blink of an eye. Did he say the authorities are on their way? Shit. Nora hopped down from the container and felt her body complain as she made contact with the ground. She turned around and offered her hand to the young woman who was still in the container. "I don't know about your dad, but I promised to get you home. Everything else can wait. Come on." Nora extended her hand in an offer to help her down. The woman, Ruth, took the hand and climbed out. "Go climb in." Nora nods towards the front of the vehicle before making her way to the man laying on the ground. Under the blood, dirt, and missing arm, the man wore fancy clothes and seemed well-groomed. Nora crouched down beside him and felt for vitals. He needed medical attention, and the sooner the better. It looked as though some first response medical care had already been administered, but she wasn't sure it would hold up for very long. Nora glanced towards the vehicle. She couldn't stick around to deal with the authorities. As an immigrant, she couldn't afford any trouble. She also couldn't go back on her word to get the girl home. As a trained soldier, she couldn't bring herself to leave someone behind. And then there were the civilians that were beginning to gather... Fuck fuck FUCK fuck fuck-fuck. Another quick glance to the vehicle and her mind was made up. One deep breath and Nora began to collect the man. She draped him around her shoulders in an effort to distribute his weight easier, but pain shot through her senses. From midback up to her occipital, causing flashes of colorful lights to momentarily blind her. Another deep breath, which only caused more pain. Fine, shallow breathes it is. With deliberate steps, Nora brought the man to the passenger side. "Scoot over," Nora instructed the woman. Sliding the man off of her shoulder and into the passenger seat, "hold him upright." Nora slammed the bent door closed and rushed around to the driver's side. Where the cab attaches to the airship attachment is an emergency release mechanism. Can't go wrong with classics, I guess. How much longer do I have before first responders are on the scene? I need to go faster. Nora used her Personal Communications device to quickly override the safety measures and release the cab. Vaulting into the driver's side and engaging the Ground Delivery mech, Nora could feel the wheels engage. Starting the cab engine, she revved up and felt the front cab detached from the ship compartments. With the second rev the cab came free. "Okay, crew, hang on." The forward motion was off balance and clumsy, but it was forward movement nonetheless. In just a few moments they were off of the field and onto the streets. This is going to gather too much attention. We need cover. We need medical attention. Nora flicked her eyes to the right to see the young woman holding the man up and trying to stabilize him against the jerking motions of the vehicle. Another wave of regret overcame Nora for leaving her D.I.G. in the goddam airship. Where are we? On the side of the road up ahead is a big blue H sign. Perhaps Providence was real, after all. With a little bit of common sense and helpful road signs, Nora found the district's hospital. "Search his pockets for any identification, we're almost there." Turning into the ground level Emergency Intake entrance, Nora did a visual sweep of the area. Was there somewhere with the poorest visual coverage from surveillance? Medical professionals started to open the doors and bring out stretchers. Someone must have seen the vehicle and made assumptions. Nora came to a stop just short of where the medical professionals were. Shrugging off her uniform jacket, she handed it to the young woman. "I will drive you home in five minutes. Any more than five and you might need to find your own way. Put this on and wait outside the closest off duty skyship." Without waiting for a response Nora slid out and went around to confront the fast approaching crowd. Please let her be clever enough to get away before I open this door. "Help! I have a man who needs emergency attention!"</s>
<\|description\|>Name Race \| Age \| Sex Appearance Personality Background * Profession (Optional) * Class * Heritage History (Optional) Motivation Capabilities Attributes Combat [0/1] * * * Intelligence [0/1] * * * Charisma [0/1] * * * Health [0/1] * * * Faculties [0/1] * * * Agility [0/1] * * * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * * * Money For simplicity's sake, we're doing 3 types of coinage. Royals (Gold), Lordlings (Silver), and Commons (Copper). They each measure 20 of the previous coinage. 20 Lordlings makes a Royal and 20 Commons makes a Lordling. You will roll for your currency. You will roll a D10 for Royals, D20 for Lordlings, and D100 for Commons. Languages Rannic Ulfsson Human (Thaegar) \| 27 \| Male Appearance Rannic stands at an impressive height (6'3), with a powerful physique and callused hands made for combat. His mane of hair is as brown as a wild oak, his eyes as green as leaves. He's not unhandsome and generally sports a robust beard, had he not shaven once he entered the Blackwood. His adventures in the Northern Marches had destroyed much of his ancestral armor, so he now wears what banded plate and leather he can to maintain protection. With large hands, long legs, and broad shoulders, he makes an imposing figure to face down in combat. Personality Rannic is honorable and blunt, though he has a streak of free spirit from having been separated from his home for the last four years. Though he can be a bit gruff, he's earnest enough and tends to keep his word. As with most Thaegars, you'll find him a terrible enemy or a loyal friend given enough time to make his aquaintence. He values nothing more than to be implemented back into Thaegar society, though he's become comfortable with his lot in life. Gold and glory are fine companions for the young man, but it will take more than that for him to forget his father's word or his oath to his the thane. Background * Professional Soldier (Optional) * Lower Class * Son of the Blacksmith and Basket Weaver History (Optional) Motivation Rannic seeks to slay a Dragon or Giant, and to return either head to his clan for recompense of his previous crimes. Capabilities Attributes Combat [1/1] * Two Handed Sword [2] * Unarmed [1] * Two Handed Blunt [1] * Two Handed Cleave [1] Intelligence [1/1] * Legendry [1] * History [1] * Charisma [1/1] * * * Health [1/1] * Strength [2] * Constitution [1] * Toughness [1] * Stamina [1] Faculties [1/1] * Resolve [1] * Perception [1] * Agility [1/1] * Running [1] * Outdoors [1] * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * * * Money 3 Royals, 7 Lordlings, 20 Commons Languages Drimgoth, Northern Tongue</s> <\|message\|>Name "So anyway, what are you two doing going up this river anyhow?" The lad asked, having talked their ears off the last hour. Moving up river was tiring work, but this boy had rowed and talked, rowed and talked, rowed and talked. Perhaps it was the fact he like as not did this every day as a living, but it was still a sight to see. It was almost impressive for a dwarf too. The Grannic River was a long one, snaking up from the peninsula of the Seven Cities and the Nevrazym Dale all the way into the bosom of the Blackwood, or so the longshoreman had said back in Cavlarck. "'Nothing but trouble is what you'll find in the Blackwood' my paw always says." The boy declared, then thought for a moment. "Except for trees. There's a whole lot of trees. And monsters too...probably some towns as well. "Shut up, boy," The second of the rowers grunted. He was a dark man, with an almost dwarf-like beard and corded muscles. His back was to the two travelers, and he rowed in silence save such lovely comments as that. Luckily it seemed they knew their business, keeping the boat afloat and keeping the goods the traveler's had stored behind steadied. Attached to the small boat was a strange raft; a contraption with wooden bars that stood up like some cage, carrying their cart, supplies, and even the donkey was seemed too busy lapping at the water through the bars to be afraid. The trees had grown notably darker as they rowed further northwards, away from the Sea of Swords and the Seven Cities so rife with intrigue and chaos. Good money to be made there, and work. But you were as likely to have it or your craft confiscated by a rival city. The Blackwood had little in the way of competition, word had it. Now the boat began to turn ever slightly toward the shore, and the two rowers perked up as if they had arrived at a destination, though there were no markings and little in the way of space to make landfall. @Tony Pajamas --- Hundreds of miles to the north, another unlikely pair were making their way south through the foothills of northern Andred. Grim were they, and fell to look upon. Much like the Northern mountains they had descended from. Torsten had passed through southern Norgard, past the Halls of the Jotuns in the Hruntigmir Mountains, otherwise known as the Frostfells, and made it into the Northern Marches where he met Vanhel, realizing they both had a common destination. It has now been two weeks since they passed Umber's Cairn, right at the beginning of spring when the snows have finally melted. Staying away from most Andredian villages and settlements save for the occasional waystation, their journey had finally bore fruit for the two companions. For they had passed a simple glen to find themselves face to face with two massive trees, darker in hue and far more robust than any trees they had come across for weeks. A northern relic in the soft, southern lands of the 'civilized' nations. Perhaps you see it as a welcome sight, or perhaps you feel as if the stories you sought to find out about the legends of the forest were true. Whatever the case may be, the treeline stood as a great wall daring them to enter, with the two large oaks a veritable gateway into the realm of grimdarkness. As the two dare approach, they are greeted by a strange revving, stuttering sound. An echo that belies the direction they known to listen to, though they soon know the direction. A strange shape coalesces around the 'gateway' before their eyes. As it forms, the two see it is truly large! It looks to be some form of boar-like creature, though instead of two tusks along its mouth, it has three horns along the center of its snout, like a strange porcine whooly rhinoceros. Torsten and Vanhel would only be able to reach it's shoulder if they stood next to the ginormous beast, and though it does not seem to be antagonistic, it grunts and smells the grass just at the entrance to the wood they seek to enter. Pawing the ground with its hooves, it seems content to nibble upon the foliage just before them. Perhaps they could find another way in, off a beaten path to the east or west? Perhaps the beast would bring good meat or make a fine trophy... or perhaps it is best to let sleeping pigs lie. @Gunther</s> <\|message\|>Mari Balance: 1d8+1 = 5 (4 + 1) Intelligence: d8 = 4 Mari missed the sound of the sea. It was something she'd taken for granted, born and raised near the water as she always had been, and now that it was gone, the world seemed all too uncomfortably quiet. This forest would test her, she knew; Asherah had promised as much, and to become a Daughter of Rán, Mari would have to overcome adversity. She needed to prove she was one of them in heart and mind before she could be granted any gifts. She stopped at the edge of the gulley, pushing auburn hair from her face. Getting around this would take hours, and Mari wanted to make it deeper into the forest well before darkness fell. She had a passing knowledge of world geography, but without help in this forest she would be hopelessly lost. People lived in the darkness of the wood somewhere, she just had to find them, and perhaps see if a deal could be made. That meant getting down and through the gulley. Mari noted the very large, very dead thing down there, but whatever felled it was nowhere to be seen, no tracks she could identify at a distance. The smell was strong, though. Best not to linger here any longer than I have to. She started down carefully after securing her pack and her shield, making quick work of the descent. She almost slipped once, but caught herself and kept her feet, setting foot in the basin. Her boots sank into the mud beneath the shallow, filthy water, but she made sure to keep moving, finding that the muck wasn't severe enough to threaten her. The creature was an ogre, she guessed, judging by Asherah's descriptions from stories she'd told. Goddess, the old woman had a lot of stories. The ogre looked to be a few days dead at least, and the smell grew even worse as she passed. With no intent of sticking around to end up beside the dead ogre, Mari began the work of climbing up the far side of the gulley, finding it no more difficult than the descent. It wasn't the warmest welcome into the Blackwood, but Mari had already steeled herself for the worst. Whatever the Watery Widow intended to throw at her, she would face it.</s>	<\|message\|>Name Gundarogs: These creatures are one of two subspecies of 'Rog'. The normal, forest dwelling rog are slightly larger, with sallow or green skin. Gundarogs, however, are their underground dwelling counterpart, skin black as if burned and faces horribly twisted. Gundarogs stand around 5 feet tall, with gangly but strong limbs, and weigh around 100 pounds out of their twisted black iron armor. Hideously cruel and malicious, Gundarogs infest mountain holes and the deeps beneath the earth, ever searching for metals to twist into their crude but deadly weapons and armor, but more importantly for buried demons and forgotten gods to worship. They enjoy torture and feasting upon hapless humanoids, but they abhor light, particularly the sun. The fact that they are here is an indication to a clue about the Blackwood proper, for even under such gloom they would not make their homes above ground. Something about the forest is even darker than it appears, or perhaps they were called? Perhaps both? The creature squealed in a piercing wail and dropped the scorpion, looking very akin to a cockroach that found a meal repulsive to its sensibilities. The scorpion scuttled away into the brush, making a twisted path through a mixture of bushes and fallen boughs towards Kyiriniae'aea, suddenly forming back into the very confused baby not half a minute later. Such spells lasted a longer time with more mundane and well understood beasts like sheep and chickens. The child was now looking around curiously, unable to fathom what had just occurred. Behind him, the four Gundarogs had not yet grabbed their weapons, which from where Kyiriniae'aea stood, she could see they were barbed spears and cruel stabbing swords. Rather than screech further or run, they scuttled a few meters away from the fire and watched it fearfully, whispering to one another in their strange, guttural tongue. The flame roared black before their eyes, unyielding from Kyiriniae'aea's cantrip. It seemed they took the fire as an omen, with the loss of their meal via polymorph simply a further sign as to an entity that had chosen to speak with them. There was no telling what Gundarogs would do if they saw a Silver Elf, as most see them attack when others trespass upon their mountain caverns rather than the creatures making a home in the woodlands. When it became apparently the fire wouldn't harm them, they approached closer and gripped their spears, raising them into the air like primitive men or apes, beginning to chant a string of words that sounded like a strange rhyme. The child began to cry once more at the Elf's feet, though the things had yet to hear past their chanting. --- Mari had ascended without error, just in time to make it under the cover of the thick trees when she heard a strange noise in the distance. She found a good tree to hide behind among the myriad of elms and birches, just as she heard an incredibly loud warscream from some winged monstrosity that swooped in from above. It looked twenty feet long from the tip of its tail to it's snout, very dragon-like in appearance save for its brown ridged scales, clubbed tail, and the fact it only had four appendages with small clawed hands at the top of its vast wings. It was terrifyingly mesmerizing to watch it drop onto the ridge Mari had just traversed like a strange bird, clinging to it before it let its taloned feet slide further into the gulley so it could feast upon the huge Ogre's corpse. It likely was not the thing that had killed the monster, but it would certainly capitalize on a free meal when it found it. The warrior would be so transfixed on the display of nature, that she would be caught completely by surprise when a strong hand grabbed her mouth and a sudden sound of "ssshhh" would escape the lips of whoever hid behind her. Mari could struggle, but she would hear the next words as follows. "Don't scream. I'm not here to harm you..." Suddenly she was let go, and Mari would see amid the shadow of the forest, another warrior woman. Tall and lithe, and strong of limb. Her long dark hair was tied into a flowing ponytail, she was adorned with a bronze breastplate and bronze greaves. Her blue eyes contrasted her coppery skin, and she was similiarly armed as Mari with a sword and shield, albeit of different designs. She was also notably taller than Mari. She held her hands up disarmingly. "We must go before the Wyvern smells us. I am Ithaca, the Road Warden. Come with me and I'll take you to town."</s>
<\|description\|>Name Race \| Age \| Sex Appearance Personality Background * Profession (Optional) * Class * Heritage History (Optional) Motivation Capabilities Attributes Combat [0/1] * * * Intelligence [0/1] * * * Charisma [0/1] * * * Health [0/1] * * * Faculties [0/1] * * * Agility [0/1] * * * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * * * Money For simplicity's sake, we're doing 3 types of coinage. Royals (Gold), Lordlings (Silver), and Commons (Copper). They each measure 20 of the previous coinage. 20 Lordlings makes a Royal and 20 Commons makes a Lordling. You will roll for your currency. You will roll a D10 for Royals, D20 for Lordlings, and D100 for Commons. Languages Rannic Ulfsson Human (Thaegar) \| 27 \| Male Appearance Rannic stands at an impressive height (6'3), with a powerful physique and callused hands made for combat. His mane of hair is as brown as a wild oak, his eyes as green as leaves. He's not unhandsome and generally sports a robust beard, had he not shaven once he entered the Blackwood. His adventures in the Northern Marches had destroyed much of his ancestral armor, so he now wears what banded plate and leather he can to maintain protection. With large hands, long legs, and broad shoulders, he makes an imposing figure to face down in combat. Personality Rannic is honorable and blunt, though he has a streak of free spirit from having been separated from his home for the last four years. Though he can be a bit gruff, he's earnest enough and tends to keep his word. As with most Thaegars, you'll find him a terrible enemy or a loyal friend given enough time to make his aquaintence. He values nothing more than to be implemented back into Thaegar society, though he's become comfortable with his lot in life. Gold and glory are fine companions for the young man, but it will take more than that for him to forget his father's word or his oath to his the thane. Background * Professional Soldier (Optional) * Lower Class * Son of the Blacksmith and Basket Weaver History (Optional) Motivation Rannic seeks to slay a Dragon or Giant, and to return either head to his clan for recompense of his previous crimes. Capabilities Attributes Combat [1/1] * Two Handed Sword [2] * Unarmed [1] * Two Handed Blunt [1] * Two Handed Cleave [1] Intelligence [1/1] * Legendry [1] * History [1] * Charisma [1/1] * * * Health [1/1] * Strength [2] * Constitution [1] * Toughness [1] * Stamina [1] Faculties [1/1] * Resolve [1] * Perception [1] * Agility [1/1] * Running [1] * Outdoors [1] * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * * * Money 3 Royals, 7 Lordlings, 20 Commons Languages Drimgoth, Northern Tongue</s> <\|message\|>Kyiriniae'aea Kyiriniae'aea crouched down beside the child and wove her fingers beguiling before its eyes, stilling its cries as she wove a magical somnolence to quiet the baby. She had no particularly maternal instincts but if it started caterwauling at the right time it might disrupt her plan. With silence assured, she stood up and straightened her dress, preparing herself for the next step. There was some danger involved but she wasn't going to establish herself in this forest by timidity. She closed her eyes and wove a second spell. Blink The tall elf appeared in the flames as the Gundarogs chanted. Stepping quickly from the fire before it could catch. None the less a few of the fibres and the tips of her hair smoked and sizzled though she kept any cry from her lips so as not to spoil the illusion. The the Gundarogs it appeared as though she had been birthed from the flames in response to their chanting. Moving far enough from the fire to be safe she spread her arms akimbo to appear as impressive as she could. "Why have you ventured out under the accursed sun?" she demanded in tone of oratorical command. The back-lighting from the fire made her appear shadowed and featureless. "Why have you left the tunnels and forsaken the search for my brethren?" she demanded.</s> <\|message\|>Emilio Virtoli Diplomacy = 8 + 3 = 11 The Dre Costan showed no signs of tiring from the boy's repetitive questions. All the more he seemed just as excited and lively. "Ah, but where there are towns there are people. Where there are people, my services shall always be required. Setting disputes, evaluating valuables, and moving about the general necessities of the world." Emilio spoke with elegance outwardly to the child, as if he had prepared this spiel his entire life. "Oh, and of course my friend here." He'd gesture with flair to Wēlanandaz. "Monsters mean armor and weapons are in great demand yes? Well what finer is there than expert Dwarvern make?" The question was exclaimed proudly and entirely rhetorical, though he'd move on before the child could comment on it. "I am certain one way or another it shall be an exciting and prosperous venture. You yourself found this to be your own service after all. I am certain you have heard much and more of the Blackwood. It would make me most grateful if you could tell us some more of what to expect. Anything you've heard of the locals, the closest towns or villages. Any and all is appreciated." An eye would look from the man to the shore as they made a turn towards it. A seemingly entire lackluster and lone spot. "Ah, and directions. Truly you would wish for us to make it safely yes? After we have made our fortunes here we would remember those that labored along the way." Emilio would add on with a cheery smile and tone. All but antithetical to the rowing man's silence. "Of course I'd hope the same to be true of myself. Should I find any weary souls who wish to turn their way back for an honest fee, I would all the more direct them to the one who had the same guided safely our own passage. I'd need a name of course for such a man and I would not ask without bestowing my own. Emilio Virtoli, merchant, as you already well know." A seated half bow was added on, not wishing to rock the boat overly much as they were soon to be pulling onto land.</s> <\|message\|>Mari Screaming was the last thing Mari intended to do. She'd allowed herself to be ambushed, distracted as she was by the wyvern's arrival, which she'd only narrowly avoided by luck, but now her instinct was to fight rather than let fear rule. She reached for one of her daggers, but a strong hand caught her wrist. The voice behind her promised her no harm. It took a few seconds, but finally Mari relaxed her muscles and slowed her breathing, the woman letting her go as soon as she did. If she'd wanted to kill Mari, she had a perfect chance already, and hadn't used it. That was good enough. Mari cautiously checked to make sure the wyvern was still occupied with the ogre, then turned about. Ithaca, she introduced herself as. A Praelian name if she'd ever heard one, with a look to match. Taller than Mari, and well armed and armored. What she promised sounded like a much needed bit of good luck. "Lead the way," she instructed, eager to put the gulley and the wyvern well behind her. Only when the sounds of the creature feasting on the ogre's corpse had disappeared did she venture her own introduction. "I'm Mari, of the Sea of Swords. What's this town we're headed to?"</s> <\|message\|>Name "Oi! Get the fuck out'o the way!" A cry sprang up from behind them. Similar cries rose and created a cacophony of sounds from those behind, clearly unamused that the two made it to the front of the line to negotiate rather than pay immediately and give someone else a chance. For the notary's part, he blinked at the strange bedraggled girl and her foreign companion. It was understandable why, as Greybridge was an Andredian settlement and she was clearly Vrettonian, and her story was vague, what's more. However, it also could have some plausibility, as many mercenary companies from either country was bought by the other to confuse the their enemy during their frequent wars. It almost looked like the man in the extravagant hat was going to deny them, but at the yelling from the crowd to get a move on, he seemed to acquiesce after another moment's thought. "Very well, to your great service blah blah yes, only 5 Lordlings." He whispered to them harshly. "From both of you." Once paid, he would raise his head and wave about a crop-like crudgle. The four halberdiers in the center rose their weapons automatically as if they were Dwarf-made machines powered by steam. Behind him lay Greybridge, the gothic agate jewel of the north. Even during the day, the city had an ominous, dramatic quality to its architecture. Some compared the looming and thatched two or three-story buildings that flooded the city to one of the haunted cities found in Henry Forthwright's melodramas. Leering gargoyles could be found atop a few buildings in the distance, though what lay around them was a small marketplace in the center of a widened three way street. They would be practically shoved inside, and once within it was like a jungle of buildings surrounded by a throng of Greybridge citizens that went about their daily business. You have some flexibility on what you would like to do. You could roll to find a shop or someone to speak to with a faculties (perception) roll, or you could be creative and do something unexpected. Ask away if you have any questions. @Duck --- Ithaca had begun to lead her northwards, through numerous thickets of dark trees until they finally stumbled upon a well trodden path. It seemed to go east and westwards, though it likely snaked back around to where she had been at the mouth of the gulley. A great brown horse stood tethered to a tree, proud and powerful with a well groomed black mane. It snickered when it saw Ithaca, clearly happy to see her once again. "Geiá sou diké mou Bucephalus." She whispered to the steed, untying the reins from the tree, just as glad to see the horse as well. She made it look all too easy to mount the steed, holding a hand out for Mari to take. "The Sea of Swords?" She asked, hoisting Mari up to sit just behind her. Ithaca let Mari sling her shield around herself and sheath her sword before she had Bucephalus begin at a trot. "You must have traveled through the borderlands to get here. Durgony yes?" They made their way deeper into the forest path, letting the sun pass into tangled shadow beneath the canopy above. The trees were somehow both healthy yet gnarled by some unseen grimness, though the sounds of the birds around them showed no evil was yet near, if there was any at all. "It's Rittenvos, of the people of Eisenland." Ithaca explained, glancing back at Mari for a moment. "You chose a strange road to come here, though I suppose it is the most direct road. I like that. Nothing reaches the heart of an Orc like a straight thrust through the chest. But yes, Rittenvos. It has the largest inn near the southern border, and plenty of tradesmen. I won't ask you much on your quest, for no one would travel like you unless they had an important errand. But you very well could find what you are seeking there." The road warden spoke with a certain surety that would strengthen the heart of anyone hearing it. But it was not to last, for a moment later a most dreadful sound erupted from the skies above. It was so brutally loud that it was not so apparent what made the leaves upon the branches shake until Ithaca and Mari's senses had regained their faculties. It was a roar so terrifying and powerful it shook one's very bones. Among the sudden calamity Bucephalus whinnied, the dauntless horse bucking briefly in abject surprise and fear. "Dragon!" Ithaca gasped, doing her best to rein Bucephalus before the horse threw them off, calming within moments due to its training and Ithaca's prompting. Mari would have to cling to the warden so as not to fall off, and once the three had halted in the forest path, there was another terrible roar, albeit further away.</s>	<\|message\|>Name A Gundarog hissed in fear and hatred, recoiling from her sudden appearance. It grabbed a wickedly barbed spear on instinct, but its companions had yet to attack, so in awe were they at the unexpected and immediate introduction from the strange sorceress. It seemed an undecided thing on what they would do until two of them abased themselves before Kyiriniae'aea, obviously too afraid to speculate. The other two were less decided for a few brief moments, and the one that had grabbed the weapon seemed on the brink of throwing his spear or running. However, it soon dropped its weapon and joined its fellows, just as the third did. The Gundarog that had held the baby heard her demands, jitteringly rising, looking at her and trying to speak in its broken northern. "B-Bright Lady? Yes! Yes, Bright Lady we..." It sibilated, unused to speak of the thing they dared not walk under. "The s-s-sun does not touch here, Bright Lady. The shadow of Lord Gorthaur has been cast upon this forest, gnash its wooden bones! Claw it! Bite it! Burn the villages into nothing!" It erupted into a brief, psychotic cackled until it realized it was (likely) speaking to someone who could obliterate it with a look. It took two steps toward her, moving like some broken misshapen thing. It very well could have been. Many Gundarogs had warts and humps that made their movements queer but did not diminish their effectiveness in killing. No wonder its voice sounded like verbal depression and bloated malice. "The Blackwood is forever changed, yes. Long ago when Gorthaur had first arrived, he brought the realm of shadow with him. Now shadow lingers until the unmaking the world..." "What does the Bright Lady command!?" One of the bowed ones cried out, shrill in pitch. "We can shows you to villages! To towers! Yes, yes Ladies love towers?"</s>
<\|description\|>Name Race \| Age \| Sex Appearance Personality Background * Profession (Optional) * Class * Heritage History (Optional) Motivation Capabilities Attributes Combat [0/1] * * * Intelligence [0/1] * * * Charisma [0/1] * * * Health [0/1] * * * Faculties [0/1] * * * Agility [0/1] * * * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * * * Money For simplicity's sake, we're doing 3 types of coinage. Royals (Gold), Lordlings (Silver), and Commons (Copper). They each measure 20 of the previous coinage. 20 Lordlings makes a Royal and 20 Commons makes a Lordling. You will roll for your currency. You will roll a D10 for Royals, D20 for Lordlings, and D100 for Commons. Languages Rannic Ulfsson Human (Thaegar) \| 27 \| Male Appearance Rannic stands at an impressive height (6'3), with a powerful physique and callused hands made for combat. His mane of hair is as brown as a wild oak, his eyes as green as leaves. He's not unhandsome and generally sports a robust beard, had he not shaven once he entered the Blackwood. His adventures in the Northern Marches had destroyed much of his ancestral armor, so he now wears what banded plate and leather he can to maintain protection. With large hands, long legs, and broad shoulders, he makes an imposing figure to face down in combat. Personality Rannic is honorable and blunt, though he has a streak of free spirit from having been separated from his home for the last four years. Though he can be a bit gruff, he's earnest enough and tends to keep his word. As with most Thaegars, you'll find him a terrible enemy or a loyal friend given enough time to make his aquaintence. He values nothing more than to be implemented back into Thaegar society, though he's become comfortable with his lot in life. Gold and glory are fine companions for the young man, but it will take more than that for him to forget his father's word or his oath to his the thane. Background * Professional Soldier (Optional) * Lower Class * Son of the Blacksmith and Basket Weaver History (Optional) Motivation Rannic seeks to slay a Dragon or Giant, and to return either head to his clan for recompense of his previous crimes. Capabilities Attributes Combat [1/1] * Two Handed Sword [2] * Unarmed [1] * Two Handed Blunt [1] * Two Handed Cleave [1] Intelligence [1/1] * Legendry [1] * History [1] * Charisma [1/1] * * * Health [1/1] * Strength [2] * Constitution [1] * Toughness [1] * Stamina [1] Faculties [1/1] * Resolve [1] * Perception [1] * Agility [1/1] * Running [1] * Outdoors [1] * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * * * Money 3 Royals, 7 Lordlings, 20 Commons Languages Drimgoth, Northern Tongue</s> <\|message\|>Mari Riding: d8 = 2 Mari couldn't help but smile when she laid eyes on the horse. Mounts were hardly common on the isles in the Sea of Swords, and she had very little experience with horses, but she'd always found them beautiful. She took Ithaca's hand and mounted up behind her without much of the same grace, a little unsteady, but the pace wasn't difficult. "Durgony, that's right." Mari was getting a little tired of traveling, and this Rittenvos sounded like an excellent place to rest and just maybe rid herself of the dirt and dust and grime of the journey. She found herself liking this Ithaca; given her occupation, she likely knew the forest very well. No one was supposed to know of the temple's location, but perhaps Ithaca could help her get started. Not everyone felt favorably towards the Daughters, but Mari had a good feeling about this one. Any trace of good feeling fled when an awful roar rent the very air, prompting Mari to reach up and cover both of her ears, wincing at the sudden pain of such a loud noise from above. The horse wildly bucked, and without a solid grip on anything Mari was thrown off, landing with a heavy thud on her side in the dirt. Dragon, Ithaca said. The fall only knocked the wind out of Mari, but instinctively she reached for her shield, even if it'd be all but pointless against such a creature. Her heart was pounding, terror coursing through her, and it only abated when the second awful roar seemed to be further away. Forcing herself to take a few breaths, Mari got back to her feet. "Goddess," she breathed, brushing dirt off her side. "Are dragons, wyverns, and ogres a normal day for you here?"</s> <\|message\|>Name Reality warped around the Gundarog when her spell impacted, cutting open its stomach and ripping the life out of it. It fell without a cry, helmet falling off to reveal its stretched, pig nosed face and impossibly wide eyes for seeing in the pitch darkness of its subterranean realm. After a moment of complete silence, the other Gundarog's screeched in glee and leaped over the corpse of their once-companion. Kyiriniae'aea would see bits of blackened flesh flying up as they devoured the dead thing. Kyiriniae'aea would have the time to grab the child, still fast asleep as she polymorphed him until a small turtle and dropped it in the sack with what little she carried with her. Within minutes, she had her small troop standing at the ready. They held their spears, long for them but only slightly taller than a tall man at the ready, with their black iron shields curved into spikes to make another stabbing implement. Standing they would be nearly her height, but they were perpetually hunched and ready to be commanded. The forest was as gloomy as ever, but magic permeated the air in a very pleasant manner to the sorceress as her minions walked and crawled interchangeably in front of her, keeping silent as they passed under bushes and over huge roots with, save for the hissing grunts and low growls they might emit as they 'marched'. The landscape seemed a never ending green and black as they delved deeper into the Blackwood, though the trees grew notably smaller (though still extremely large). Save for a few large spiders and at one point of hiding from an indigo colored, stout wolf the size of a pony, they saw little life. After what must have been an hour travel, the Gundarogs seemed to be speaking amongst each other and giggling fiendishly just as they passed the cusp of a bend in their path, leaping up and down like excited children. "We're here, Bright Lady! Yes yes, Bright Lady master is pleased!" They declared, though she hardly needed to hear it. It was plain to see before her; a thick canopy of trees covered the top of it, but before her was the stout 'trunk' of a tower made of large stone slabs. Clearly the work of humans, though no telling how old the building was. Wooden gates rotted and ripped off by something immensely strong, her eyes could see that the Blackwood had begun to reclaim the small keep. Grass tufts had grown out of the floor between cracked stones, and vines had snaked their way within. As they entered, the Gundarogs awaited outside to guard their new master as she looked about at her leisure, though there was not much to see. The archway had been an ogival arch with the ruined buildings laced with intricate tracery. Within was a basic stone floor and no other rooms save a small kitchen with no food likely, though it did have a door on its hinges (opened). The only unknown was a winding stairway you could watch ascend up the wall, twirled around the stones until it reached the second and likely final floor fully six or so meters upwards. From the ground, she saw a circular, railed opening in the floor above, meaning it had the likeness of a balcony, making it easy to stare at the ground floor if one were so inclined. As she ascended the stairs, she found herself looking and four different doors, all closed. The fifth door, the largest I might add, was opened. Within were cases upon cases of books, filled to the brim in such a manner that some books were half opened on the ground, from having fallen. To the left was a bed, albeit messy and unmade, though that was the least promising thing in the room. The center of the room's fore held a clearly mystical creation, wrought of magic and stone making a strange, eldritch archway. A small lining in the floor of what appeared to be silver had been laid to reach an item that lay at the true center of the room: A large ball of pure crystal, utterly black in color. Her alchemical eyes would find one last thing of note; upon the far right of the room was a table with a mortar & pestel, a retort, a beaker, an alembic, and calcinator. No supplies however, though doubtless the forest itself was full of such things. If you would like to try and attempt to activate any of the magical items, roll a 1d8+3. If you'd like to search the bookshelves for something specific, roll faculties or perception if you have an addition, and if you'd like to perform alchemy with whatever you have on hand, make an alchemy roll (or order your minions to find various herbs). You have so many options!</s>	<\|message\|>Name Mari had dirt caked on her backside and shoulder, but she was mostly unharmed save for maybe a scratch or two. Bucephalus had kept his cool after the second Dragon roar, and thankfully the Gods saw fit for the beast to fade into the distance. Dragons might have incredible senses, but this was the Blackwood. Finding two people even if it smelled them over miles and miles of thick forest would have been too time-wasting for any hungry beast. For some reason the forest seemed someone more still as the Dragon disappeared, and it was then Mari would realize the Dragon's wing beats had created a literal gale of wind. "The forest is always dangerous, but this dangerous?" Ithaca asked as she lent Mira her hand, smiling. "I think you just bring trouble with you." Once the warrior of Rán was back upon the strong mount, Ithaca, as nonchalant as she seemed, quickened her horse's pace. In fact the speed in which they now galloped, winding and twisting their way through the wood was both impressive and harrowing. Mari could feel the hooves press into the mud below her, giving a 'slipping' and uneven quality to their ride that would make anyone uncomfortable. Thankfully it seemed they had done this before, and before an hour had passed Mari saw the path had turned into a more straight road, interwoven with other lesser paths that met it every mile or two until they came cantering into the opening of a town. So abruptly did the trees give way to the wooden gate, it was as if they had just left the Fae realm and found a small pocket of civilization. The town was small, no doubt there. Perhaps there were six roads that interwove to create the entirety of the settlement. Ithaca halted Bucephalus just after they had reached the gate, nearly bowling over two men carrying a desk into what looked to be a newly constructed building. They yelled in fear, and sighed audibly when the steed had stopped just short of ruining their day and they hurried on. It seemed, upon the dirt section of town they were in, that all of Rittenvos was to their left down what seemed to be the main road, and to their right was what looked to be a newly built, stout keep with a fortified living space built connected to its base. Ithaca's arrival had been noted by a few passersby; commoners and a few Dwarves hauling a cart with what looked to be sacks of perhaps salt or flour. The resident tollkeeper had also noticed it seemed, judging by his uniform and shit-eating look. Not even a grin. He just looked as if he very much wished to take your money. He was tall, with a noticeable paunch thrust over his tight belt and nearly breaking apart his jerkin. All in all, he was palpably unpleasant, and falling down the ugly tree whilst hitting every branch on the way down didn't exactly aid his case. "So," he said gruffly, waving a quill pen. "You got a newcomer? You told her it was five Lordlings to enter, I assume?" "Piss off, Bryant." Ithaca said, reining Bucephalus to nearly whip the man with her horse's head. The fellow recoiled as if he'd been slapped. "Anyone who survived in the wilderness alone for four days has free right to a bath and a bed. Don't give me that look! Speak to the Baron if you must, but I suspect he's busier with the Dragon commotion." Bryant cursed under his breath, but didn't argue when Ithaca started her horse in a canter down the road, leaving him to wave the dust out of his face. Before Mari, thatched roofs lined the dirt road, one to two stories tall, with their porches sometimes occupied by lesser vendors. The woman began to point at various shops, and people as well, giving her curt explanations. "It might not look like much, and it's far smaller than Hearthhome not three days to the north. But it's an outpost for traders and those braving the depths of the woods. She indicated toward a woman in her late thirties, carrying a basket filled with apples. "There's the lady Richardson who owns the inn. No doubt she's going back now. A kind woman though her husband is nearly a big of a bastard as Bryant. And over there..." She pointed at a young man, darkly handsome in his own way, entertaining children with a slight of hand, much to their innocent delight. "That's Po Harthwyn. A nice man. His village was burned to the ground not a year ago. I found him much like you in the forest. He knows much old lore of these woods." She showed Mari the location of the Provisioner, where one might acquire any items they need for travel, along with the charcoal burning, which was surprising to find in such a small town! A meatshop and butcher had a joint business on the right, along with a small bakery named 'Baskin's Bakes' and a blacksmith, though the smith seemed out at the moment when they passed. At the very end of the road, Bucephalus stopped at the only three story building in town. The roof was thatched and held up by strong oak beams like the rest of town. "And this is the Grandhaven, where you can find a bath and some rest." She said, letting her dismount when she felt ready. "Do you need anything of me? I will be here tonight but tomorrow I'm off on the road once more."</s>
<\|description\|>Name Race \| Age \| Sex Appearance Personality Background * Profession (Optional) * Class * Heritage History (Optional) Motivation Capabilities Attributes Combat [0/1] * * * Intelligence [0/1] * * * Charisma [0/1] * * * Health [0/1] * * * Faculties [0/1] * * * Agility [0/1] * * * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * * * Money For simplicity's sake, we're doing 3 types of coinage. Royals (Gold), Lordlings (Silver), and Commons (Copper). They each measure 20 of the previous coinage. 20 Lordlings makes a Royal and 20 Commons makes a Lordling. You will roll for your currency. You will roll a D10 for Royals, D20 for Lordlings, and D100 for Commons. Languages Rannic Ulfsson Human (Thaegar) \| 27 \| Male Appearance Rannic stands at an impressive height (6'3), with a powerful physique and callused hands made for combat. His mane of hair is as brown as a wild oak, his eyes as green as leaves. He's not unhandsome and generally sports a robust beard, had he not shaven once he entered the Blackwood. His adventures in the Northern Marches had destroyed much of his ancestral armor, so he now wears what banded plate and leather he can to maintain protection. With large hands, long legs, and broad shoulders, he makes an imposing figure to face down in combat. Personality Rannic is honorable and blunt, though he has a streak of free spirit from having been separated from his home for the last four years. Though he can be a bit gruff, he's earnest enough and tends to keep his word. As with most Thaegars, you'll find him a terrible enemy or a loyal friend given enough time to make his aquaintence. He values nothing more than to be implemented back into Thaegar society, though he's become comfortable with his lot in life. Gold and glory are fine companions for the young man, but it will take more than that for him to forget his father's word or his oath to his the thane. Background * Professional Soldier (Optional) * Lower Class * Son of the Blacksmith and Basket Weaver History (Optional) Motivation Rannic seeks to slay a Dragon or Giant, and to return either head to his clan for recompense of his previous crimes. Capabilities Attributes Combat [1/1] * Two Handed Sword [2] * Unarmed [1] * Two Handed Blunt [1] * Two Handed Cleave [1] Intelligence [1/1] * Legendry [1] * History [1] * Charisma [1/1] * * * Health [1/1] * Strength [2] * Constitution [1] * Toughness [1] * Stamina [1] Faculties [1/1] * Resolve [1] * Perception [1] * Agility [1/1] * Running [1] * Outdoors [1] * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * * * Money 3 Royals, 7 Lordlings, 20 Commons Languages Drimgoth, Northern Tongue</s> <\|message\|>Name "If it'll shut you up." The older rowman replied to Emilio, hacking up something particularly thick and spitting it into the river. He made another rowing movement, the water sloshing audibly. "We're about to drop you both at Varian's Crossing. It's a little inlet, and from there you walk a few hours and make it to Olderin, though some folk who remember the old wizard who used to own the place call it 'Olderin's Refuge' still. It's a smaller town the road'll lead you right to, and probably the safest place in the southern Blackwood, what with the Knights of the Skull making a base there." He grunted once again as he rowed, clearly tiring from having been at it for hours by this point. "I don't know too much of the land. You got a few towns and castles to the east, though no telling if they're still standing. Just don't follow the river as far is it goes, not that you could. You'll end up in a swamp, with water that burns you alive. Like er...acid, that's the word. Rumor has it a Dragon black as midnight lives there too. Best to just stay on the western side of the river until you reach Olderin. Not that it's completely safe, but it's as safe as it gets in this accursed place." As the boat drifted closer to the shoreline, Wēlanandaz was deep in thought, recalling the wars of yesteryear. He remembered an old story his uncle told him once, of Gorthaur the Wraithlord, who pulled the Blackwood into the very realm of Morimando, or pulled some of his realm onto the wood, darkening it forever so his minions and wraiths could move freely and with more power. He recalled two Dwarf Virkis within the wood as well, though his uncle never said where they were, only that they were along the western region of the Blackwood. Virki Fenri and Virki Gimle. No doubt he could find out more later, but they were fortified to fight the Wraithlord and no word has reached of their downfall since then. Soon, a crusty scratching sound erupted from beneath them as they made it to the small bank. The boy leaped out of the boat and into the water, wading to the side to help the bigger man pull it up further onto the shore. Using hooked poles they had stored, they also slowly yanked the service raft closer to shore before it too was banked. The bars were lifted, and the donkey horked and honked as it walked off the raft and onto solid ground, snorting into the sand, with the cargo cart in tow behind him. The bank, or Varian's Crossing, was wide and easily traversable, though it led up an incline into an opening into the trees. Within the path looked thick with ferns and saplings, not to mention larger birch trees a stride or so away from the path. They had better continue quickly before it became dark. "Just follow the path, and you'll be fine I think!" The boy said. "Well...I don't know but I'm pretty sure. You never know in the Blackwood you know?" @Tony Pajamas</s> <\|message\|>Kyiriniae'aea Kyiriniae'aea surveyed the tower with approval, there was much to do to make it a truly acceptable dwelling place, but her minds eye was already hard at work, picturing a fire, carpets and proper illumination. There would need to be some provision for defense of course, the presence of the gundarogs attested to that, but there would be time for that, and she had an inkling of how to go about it. First though she needed to take a thorough inventory of her newfound lair. What had happened to the previous occupant? It seemed unlikely given the disarray of the library that they would return. Well if they did she would deal with that as she always did. There was the human child to deal with as well which was irritating but necessary if she was to persist in this place, it represented to great an opportunity for her simply to kill the creature or let it be eaten. It was unwise to leave her new found minions alone for too long, there was another task she needed them for before she dismissed them, but the lure of the strange and obviously magical items was too much to resist. She approached the archway first, given its prominence and possible function as a potential ingress to her new home. Circling it she ran her fingers over the stones, attempting to gain some sort of insight into its function, but merely physical interaction did not seem to be enough. Stretching out a thin finger she crouched down and touched the bottom of the arch, drawing the pad of the digit up the stone in a long rainbow like curve, following the arch and reaching out with her magical faculties... Activating the arch = 8 (5+3)</s> <\|message\|>Emilio Virtoli Intuition = 4 + 1 = 5 "I could ask nothing else of you fine duo, and I must give thanks to what words you have offered." Emilio would make for a bow as he stepped onto land. Checking on his donkey he'd make sure the cart was on firm ground before looking over it as well mindful of the rocking of the boat had knocked anything loose. An apple that had loosely rolled to the bottom of the cart and bruised itself was picked up and given as a treat to his animal. A hand would follow a growing smile as he stroked his companion's face. Making sure everything was accounted for he'd gesture an offer for his dwarvern friend to board the cart. "Best for us to get moving and letting the fellows get on their own way then right Wēlanandaz?" Barely waiting for the dwarf's own answer he'd quickly move to set off down the path. There was common enough folk tale and legends of any random place being haunted and dangerous, but the merchant knew well enough that there was at least an inkling of truth to even the most baseless one. Better safe than sorry was a tried and true practice on the road and one he would not stray from now. If any oddity lay in the path ahead he'd trust his base gut feeling for the time at least. He had managed it this far after all. Deep rooted and wooded forests were not the typical locales the Dre Costan had found himself traveling through before for the most part, especially in these rougher conditions. Obviously the path had been carved and managed to some extent though not enough for their sort to be the most common travelers. The man would keep his eyes sharp and looking about as the clatter of wooden wheels against the path matched the clops of the donkey's own hooves. "Well, it'll be some hours at least until we see some sort of men again." He'd speak out, though not as verbose and energetic as on the shoreline. "I would wonder your thoughts at times like these, my otherwise stoic and stone-faced colleague." The hint of sarcasm in his voice would at least be obvious in the choice of adjectives used. @POOHEAD189</s>	<\|message\|>Name When Kyiriniae'aea activated the archway with her energies, it became horribly clear not a moment later that the elven maiden should have activated the crystal ball prior, for she felt the very energy of her being sucked into what seemed an endless void of nothingness. Her very soul was stretched like a dislocated arm, and it was only mercifully pushed back within her once the archway coalesced energies borne of her magics. To say she felt drained was an understatement, though what appeared next would be far, far worse. The archway swirled with multicolored energy of pure chaos as the very structure itself sparked with eldritch, purple lightning every few moments that audibly cracked and sizzled. Though the air in the chamber was stilled, the sorceress could feel a strange ebb and flow of magic with her magesight, like kicked up dust from some explosion that served as a portent of doom. It was after five long seconds that the visitor appeared. At first, one clawed foot stepped into the material plane, for he approached. Then the next laid bare upon the stone, for he approached. A staff of blacksteel crowned with a demonskull materialized before her eyes, for he approached. Scaled skin the color of stained oak mixed with dead blood showed from his entrance, for he approached. His robes were suddenly palpable and colored purple, yet shimmered as if coated with black spider silk, for he approached. It was his face she saw last. A draconic visage, lipless and sunken like skin barely clinging to a vicious skull, with two large, sloped horns framing its snout. Upon his brow were three eyes, the center clearly made of some unknown precious gemstone. Once fully out of the portal, Kyiriniae'aea saw the thing, fully seven feet in height. If she used her magesight, she saw it was at least two long strides above her in power and knowledge, though there was no telling what it or he was. It was obvious even if she weren't so drained, she had no real chance of bewitching the thing and could likely harm it enough to make it angrier. She heard a low growl emanate from its throat, as if it were the broken engine of some Dwarven machine. "What realm is this?" It asked aloud, though she could tell it was asking itself rather than her. It's voice was three voices, or perhaps it echoed within its throat thrice, for they sounded very deep and similar. All at once, its three eyed gaze fell upon Kyiriniae'aea, scrutinizing her as if she were a squirrel that had wandered into a living room. "A fairy..." it said, referring to the archaic forms of the Elves before they were gifted larger bodies by the Gods so long ago. "Why did you call Gekir'vash'ni'k'kashnik'ash here?" Suddenly, the tension was broken when a wail rose up from neither of them, and both saw the form of the baby in the bag, shaking its fists and crying. The warlock, for it indeed had the energy signature of such a thing, tilted its head curiously. It's curiosity was likely the only thing from killing the sorceress at the current moment. "A child?" Oh FUCK! Well, you can...um, you got a lot of options. Clearly there are no easy ones. You could attempt to unsummon him, though I wouldn't try unless you're feeling really lucky. You could try to lie and bargain with what you have to save your own skin, or you could blink away though he either chases you or you lose your tower. Or you could surprise me!</s>
<\|description\|>Name Race \| Age \| Sex Appearance Personality Background * Profession (Optional) * Class * Heritage History (Optional) Motivation Capabilities Attributes Combat [0/1] * * * Intelligence [0/1] * * * Charisma [0/1] * * * Health [0/1] * * * Faculties [0/1] * * * Agility [0/1] * * * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * * * Money For simplicity's sake, we're doing 3 types of coinage. Royals (Gold), Lordlings (Silver), and Commons (Copper). They each measure 20 of the previous coinage. 20 Lordlings makes a Royal and 20 Commons makes a Lordling. You will roll for your currency. You will roll a D10 for Royals, D20 for Lordlings, and D100 for Commons. Languages Rannic Ulfsson Human (Thaegar) \| 27 \| Male Appearance Rannic stands at an impressive height (6'3), with a powerful physique and callused hands made for combat. His mane of hair is as brown as a wild oak, his eyes as green as leaves. He's not unhandsome and generally sports a robust beard, had he not shaven once he entered the Blackwood. His adventures in the Northern Marches had destroyed much of his ancestral armor, so he now wears what banded plate and leather he can to maintain protection. With large hands, long legs, and broad shoulders, he makes an imposing figure to face down in combat. Personality Rannic is honorable and blunt, though he has a streak of free spirit from having been separated from his home for the last four years. Though he can be a bit gruff, he's earnest enough and tends to keep his word. As with most Thaegars, you'll find him a terrible enemy or a loyal friend given enough time to make his aquaintence. He values nothing more than to be implemented back into Thaegar society, though he's become comfortable with his lot in life. Gold and glory are fine companions for the young man, but it will take more than that for him to forget his father's word or his oath to his the thane. Background * Professional Soldier (Optional) * Lower Class * Son of the Blacksmith and Basket Weaver History (Optional) Motivation Rannic seeks to slay a Dragon or Giant, and to return either head to his clan for recompense of his previous crimes. Capabilities Attributes Combat [1/1] * Two Handed Sword [2] * Unarmed [1] * Two Handed Blunt [1] * Two Handed Cleave [1] Intelligence [1/1] * Legendry [1] * History [1] * Charisma [1/1] * * * Health [1/1] * Strength [2] * Constitution [1] * Toughness [1] * Stamina [1] Faculties [1/1] * Resolve [1] * Perception [1] * Agility [1/1] * Running [1] * Outdoors [1] * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * * * Money 3 Royals, 7 Lordlings, 20 Commons Languages Drimgoth, Northern Tongue</s> <\|message\|>Name "A pawn to aid in your designs?" It asked, and it would dawn on her that it was not slow in thought, but was unused to speaking in such a tongue. Or perhaps it was unused to even speaking, for perhaps the realm it had come from communicated in other ways. The Thousand Realms before the material world were unthinkable in its dimensions, though Elves knew that more than most, having come from their own Fey realm millennia ago. Gekir'vash'ni'k'kashnik'ash took two steps forward, and to her horror Kyiriniae'aea would see cracks in the stone appear under his feet at each step. Either his form was so dense it was ten times heavier than he appeared, or the very stone found his presence repellent. It slowly bent its form, sucking in her stench through its enlarged, crocidilian-like nostrils. She felt the small sensation of her soul lifting from her once more, though it settled far quicker than when she had attempted to open the portal. "You will be a pawn to aid in mine." It declared, with such finality that to her, fate itself agreed. Lifting itself higher, it breathed out noxious fumes for but a moment. The black air lingered above her like a raised guillotine. "Gundarogs are paltry... No, I require more pure blood for my machinations." A clawed hand raised, and even her magesight could not detect what spell had enacted to allow the baby slide out of the sack and to float over to the entity's waiting grasp. Almost gently, it clutched the child that had stopped crying. It only looked at the bestial thing, eyes wide as if stricken. "You wish to learn from me? You are but a child as this one, but I can aid you for your services. Bring me nine more children within this planet's month, or an artifact of sufficient power that I may devour. Do so, and I will grant you powers beyond what you can perform. Do it not..." He let the threat end, for he did not need to say more. His very voice carried a threat that was far worse than death. Kyiriniae'aea would not see, but she would hear a snap, and a fleshy crunch as Gekir'vash'ni'k'kashnik'ash made his exit through the portal once more. The archway flared to life in bright flash like a collapsing star, and then it went suddenly dark. The magic no longer lingered within, and Kyiriniae'aea would be safe from any more entrances from there for now. Accompanied by the fear, the Elven woman had performed many spells that day. Though her repitoire was not yet expended, she felt almost intoxicated with the magic she had pulled to use for her spells. That coupled with her encounter of that other-wordly thing, made her feel both buzzed yet anxious. And yet there was little time to waste if she wished to perform her duties...or find a way to keep Gekir'vash'ni'k'kashnik'ash banished for good. You are still able to activate the crystal ball if you wish, or you can call for your Gundarogs, or both or neither. I will need a sanity roll, however (just faculties since you are yet to have a point in sanity).</s> <\|message\|>Mari Civilization at last. Mari felt extremely lucky that her first encounter with another person in the Blackwood had been so positive, and the tollkeeper served as a stark reminder that it wouldn't always be that way. She took in the town, one building after the next, as Ithaca introduced them. The people didn't seem to find her arrival noteworthy; no doubt plenty of well-armed strangers made their way through this outpost. She made certain to remember Po Harthwyn's name and face, as he seemed like someone she ought to try speaking with later. There wasn't any hurry, as Mari didn't need to complete her journey on any particular timetable. Completing it alive was the important part, and that meant not venturing back out into the woods until she was rested, restocked, and armed with at least something resembling a lead. The town seemed to have everything she needed, though her funds were limited, and would be restricted to the necessities. For the moment Mari simply dismounted the horse, far less painfully than she had the last time. "If you're here tonight, can I buy you an ale later?" She grinned a little at Ithaca. "Seems I have five Lordlings more than I should thanks to you." Regardless, her first stop was the Grandhaven behind her, for a room, a hot meal so she didn't need to deplete her rations further, and a bath. Necessities, all.</s> <\|message\|>Kyiriniae'aea 6 Well Kyiriniae'aea thought as she finished picking up books and sliding them back onto the battered shelf, as far as deals with a demon went it could have been worse. While she could think of several ways to acquire the souls the demon wanted, there as a theological objection to be considered. Volduressë considered a fair trade to be weakness, even if it meant that her worshiper gained in power. Ergo her first concern had to be finding a way to turn the current situation to her advantage. That was harder than stealing babies from humans who, if her minions were to believed, had villages nearby. Such places were doubtlessly lousy with their mewling spawn who would provide appropriate tribute if it came to that. Still she had a month to work with. This tower was the place where the demon had been summoned, so it stood to reason that it held knowledge that she might employ against it. She knew now to use the crystal before employing the gateway but she felt chastened enough that her first act was to begin searching the library for any information on the binding of demons, or the use of the arch. 6</s>	<\|message\|>Name The piles of books were so high and varied that it would take days if not weeks to comb through all of them alone, even whilst she was skimming the spines to see if anything could aid her. Luckily, she had all the time in the world save for her empty stomach, which led her to promptly order her Gundarogs to go out and hunt something to bring back and cook for her, which they hurried to do so with gusto. It gave her alone time to sort through the piled tomes, and she found three of interest. The Eldernomicon, The Tome of Perpetual Horrors, and the 2nd edition of Dirge of Dragons. Through the hours, she did not find much on how to orchestrate the dimensional archway. However, she did find out much needed information on Gekir'vash'ni'k'kashnik'ash, or at least on what exactly he was, for it became clear he was not a demon. Or at least, not originally. It seemed the Warlock was one of the Lost Ones; a member of the Drogator species that split from its ancient people and never settled in the material plane of existence, or what some called Mannaheimm or Stridheim. The story goes, long ago the Gods found they had failed in their contract with the great Dragons and created an offshoot race known as the Drogator, only the Dragons at their height of their inter-planetary empire flung the newly made Drogator into the Thousand Realms to die and be lost into the nether forever. The race did not die as the Dragons had thought, but fought an endless war against fey and eldritch denizens for thousands upon thousands of years, until just over a millennia ago they had reached Maroleth once more and invaded it, thinking this planet not their lost home but a new home to preemptively conquer. Thus it led to the brief but bloody Forsaken Wars, and the establishment of the Drogator's people on their reclaimed homeplanet. However, a faction of the Drogator had branched off in the nether, content to find homes among the lost realms of the void. These 'Lost Ones' have been missing for over ten thousand years, gaining knowledge and perhaps Daemonhood. Gekir'vash'ni'k'kashnik'ash is such a being. After she had a brief dinner of cooked boar courtesy of the Gundarogs (one having taken a nasty goring, and would have died were it not for its armor), she went back to her studies. Within the first two times, the Elf did find a few chalk and sulphuric circles to temporarily bind demons or eldritch things, but only for a limited time. She would need something more... The crystal ball every pulled her towards its swirling form, and after lighting what candles she could in her sanctum, the sorceress went to activate the ball with a weave of a calling spell, drawing forth what energies she had regained over her rest. Thankfully, it only required a brief charge to flare it to life. Within, the clouds of murk sudden dissipated and the image within was flung across the sky, northward perhaps or westward, it was hard to tell. It seemed to grow dark again, though the energy was still very much alive...working... More than a minute came and went, and the archway awakened once more. Not in such chaos as before, but gradually and almost mechanically, functioning as one would wish it to. The gateway held the picture not of twirling chaos, but a soft iridescence until someone stepped through. Someone taller than Kyiriniae'aea but undoubtedly not the demon that had come through before. It was a human. A younger male human at that, with a thick mane of dark hair and bronzed skin. He had a somewhat plain look to him, though he wasn't unhandsome in his way. His nose was perfectly sized, with nice lips and his eyes were bright and intelligent. He wore the pragmatic trappings of a traveling wizard or scholar. In his left hand was a wand of elm, and in his right was a long knife, though when he saw Kyiriniae'aea he relaxed a bit at the sight of a High Elf. "Forgive me," He said, looking around. He cleared his throat, having clearly been caught off guard by her presence. "I am Alcander. High one, did you... activate this?" Clearly he was a mage, and though he was nowhere near the Lost One in power, he was very much on par with Kyiriniae'aea and likely less tired. Her bewitchment he would likely sense, but good old body language and a subtler magic like dazzle might work if she wished to sway him in some form or fashion, though that could of course wait. "Where are we?"</s>
<\|description\|>Name Race \| Age \| Sex Appearance Personality Background * Profession (Optional) * Class * Heritage History (Optional) Motivation Capabilities Attributes Combat [0/1] * * * Intelligence [0/1] * * * Charisma [0/1] * * * Health [0/1] * * * Faculties [0/1] * * * Agility [0/1] * * * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * * * Money For simplicity's sake, we're doing 3 types of coinage. Royals (Gold), Lordlings (Silver), and Commons (Copper). They each measure 20 of the previous coinage. 20 Lordlings makes a Royal and 20 Commons makes a Lordling. You will roll for your currency. You will roll a D10 for Royals, D20 for Lordlings, and D100 for Commons. Languages Rannic Ulfsson Human (Thaegar) \| 27 \| Male Appearance Rannic stands at an impressive height (6'3), with a powerful physique and callused hands made for combat. His mane of hair is as brown as a wild oak, his eyes as green as leaves. He's not unhandsome and generally sports a robust beard, had he not shaven once he entered the Blackwood. His adventures in the Northern Marches had destroyed much of his ancestral armor, so he now wears what banded plate and leather he can to maintain protection. With large hands, long legs, and broad shoulders, he makes an imposing figure to face down in combat. Personality Rannic is honorable and blunt, though he has a streak of free spirit from having been separated from his home for the last four years. Though he can be a bit gruff, he's earnest enough and tends to keep his word. As with most Thaegars, you'll find him a terrible enemy or a loyal friend given enough time to make his aquaintence. He values nothing more than to be implemented back into Thaegar society, though he's become comfortable with his lot in life. Gold and glory are fine companions for the young man, but it will take more than that for him to forget his father's word or his oath to his the thane. Background * Professional Soldier (Optional) * Lower Class * Son of the Blacksmith and Basket Weaver History (Optional) Motivation Rannic seeks to slay a Dragon or Giant, and to return either head to his clan for recompense of his previous crimes. Capabilities Attributes Combat [1/1] * Two Handed Sword [2] * Unarmed [1] * Two Handed Blunt [1] * Two Handed Cleave [1] Intelligence [1/1] * Legendry [1] * History [1] * Charisma [1/1] * * * Health [1/1] * Strength [2] * Constitution [1] * Toughness [1] * Stamina [1] Faculties [1/1] * Resolve [1] * Perception [1] * Agility [1/1] * Running [1] * Outdoors [1] * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * * * Money 3 Royals, 7 Lordlings, 20 Commons Languages Drimgoth, Northern Tongue</s> <\|message\|>Kyiriniae'aea Kyiriniae'aea sagged with relief as the human mage stepped through the portal. She didn't much like humans, they could be powerful but their short roach like lives made them unpredictable and grasping. Still, given her other companions were literal cannibals, she supposed she could tolerate the arrival of so useful a pawn. "I did," she admitted, smiling winsomely and stepping forward, holding out her hand like a human noble so that the mage could take it and kiss it in the proscribed fashion. She made a gesture that encompassed room. "We are in a place called the Blackwood," she explained, taking a step back and gesturing to one of the chairs by the table in her newly cleaned study. The chaos had been put to right and she even had taken the time to properly set up the alchemical equipment in the corner. The tower still didn't quite look lived in, but it no longer resembled the ruin it had when she had first come in. "I'm afraid it was something of a desperation move," she confessed, her lip quivering ever so slightly to convey fear and vulnerability as she took her own seat. She badly wished she had some wine, but that would have to wait, instead she offered the human some of the roasted boar that her servants had brought her. "I am Kyiriniae'aea, though you may call me Kyra," she introduced herself. She chewed on the end of one of her long blonde locks for a moment before continuing. "I am afraid I have been cursed by a Warlock," she admitted, "and if you were willing to aid me, I would be forever in your debt."</s> <\|message\|>Emilio Virtoli Today was a reminder of why Emilio did not have a particular love of hilly countries. Truly it was an omen of bad business if the man had to get out of his cart and push it himself. Though perhaps it also spoke of necessity for other goods, as the stubborn would persist or unprepared fools would be in need of wares or in want of luxury. Those thoughts kept running through his mind repetition as he assessed the land idly for its goods and what needs he could meet. That was at least until they would finally be able to peer above the 'final' hill and see human form again after their hours of journey. The Dre Costan would work quickly to dust himself off. There was no time to change into more formal wear but he would be presentable for sure. Fixing his hair back and putting on a confident smile. By their way of dress it would have to be impossible to mistake them as anything other than the Knights of the Skull. A hand would pat his ass's head as he'd stride ahead. Cutting the sizable distance slowly as he spoke with a voice that would certainly reach the men. "Gentlemen, what a sight for our weary eyes! Straight from Varian's Crossing we've come here searching for Olderin's Refuge. I believe none could mistake you as anything other than its protectors." There was a certainty to his words. Strange one might think for being new travelers of Blackwood. "Any warnings, expectations, news you would wish to impart?" He'd ask as he kept his approach slow and closing the gap, cart behind. @POOHEAD189</s> <\|message\|>Name Ithaca blinked, turning to look behind her when the Draconic thing halted speaking, grunting in acknowledgment. Mari suddenly realized he was a Drogator, rumored to be a dying people. Other than a few stories of their ferocity in combat and some vague legends of them being from another world, she wouldn't know much. It was likely just surprising to see one in person. Unnverving likely. So much like a Dragon of legend, and yet somewhat similar to a man in a very eerie fashion. "Ah, you kept your word!" Ithaca said, clearly joking about being surprised. "I'm glad to see you up and about, and less smelly." She almost looked like she was going to pinch the bridge of her nose playfully, but decided to take a sip of the drink Mari got her instead. She had her priorities straight. It was clear she had already had a few, hence her stoic demeanor giving way to cutting loose a bit. "Allow me to introduce you. Kane, I would like you to meet Mari." She said, turning around on the stool to present them both to one another. "A very brave woman I met just today on the road. Mari, this is Kane. One of the most honorable fellows I've ever met. He seems tough, but throw a chicken breast and he'll chase after it like a dog." Mari heard a very threatening growl from the Drogator. It actually vibrated the wood beneath their feet. However, a moment to reflect would reveal it was actually chuckling. A few of the patrons, including a commoner couple clearly on a date gave small yelps of surprise. Comically, the girl looked at the guy she was with when she realized his voice sounded just like hers and he nearly fell out of his chair. One might not blame him but in the Blackwood, bravery was a virtue. "It is an honor to meet you." Kane said, bowing how he could in such armor. "What brings you to such a place?" "I was going to ask her that myself." Ithaca remarked, her chest facing the crowd and her elbows behind her, resting on the wood of the bar.</s>	<\|message\|>Name The mad, squealing bray of the beast behind him was almost more haunting than it's very real charge not a minute earlier. Torsten's side bit at him with a stabbing pain that simultaneously ached like he had not felt in months. But it was nothing he couldn't handle, as long as he kept his posture at a certain level. Luckily for him, the forest allowed him to move hidden behind brush and gloom. Unfortunately, it also allowed other creatures to potentially do the same. The forests of Norgard were primordial and vast, and Torsten would not feel so unused to such thick woodland. The very roots of the towering trees ripped and shaped the very earth beneath his feet, making much of the ground uneven and misshapen, and the rest would be covered in bushes or thick grass that quieted the footsteps of whatever walked upon them. What was strange wasn't the thickness of the forest, but the dim lighting. Even a forest as great as this with such a large canopy above would have more sunlight cutting into the darkness. Doing his best not to stumble, Torsten would almost not see the sudden drop in the underbrush before it reached the front half of his leading foot. Likely to his surprise and horror, he would notice the drop was actually a footprint. A footprint as large as his torso and very humanoid in shape. Small roots and vines jutted out of the now softened earth below, as if gasping for air from whence they were pressed. Luckily (in a fashion), the accompanying war cry Torsten heard next didn't sound like it came from whatever Jotun or strange forest creature. It was a piercing scream that carried bloodlust wherever it echoed, spreading across what bits of the foliage it could. Judging by the echo, it likely came from the south. The birds springing to life and fluttering away mostly came from that direction as well. When the forest spoke, one need only listen.</s>
<\|description\|>Name Race \| Age \| Sex Appearance Personality Background * Profession (Optional) * Class * Heritage History (Optional) Motivation Capabilities Attributes Combat [0/1] * * * Intelligence [0/1] * * * Charisma [0/1] * * * Health [0/1] * * * Faculties [0/1] * * * Agility [0/1] * * * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * * * Money For simplicity's sake, we're doing 3 types of coinage. Royals (Gold), Lordlings (Silver), and Commons (Copper). They each measure 20 of the previous coinage. 20 Lordlings makes a Royal and 20 Commons makes a Lordling. You will roll for your currency. You will roll a D10 for Royals, D20 for Lordlings, and D100 for Commons. Languages Rannic Ulfsson Human (Thaegar) \| 27 \| Male Appearance Rannic stands at an impressive height (6'3), with a powerful physique and callused hands made for combat. His mane of hair is as brown as a wild oak, his eyes as green as leaves. He's not unhandsome and generally sports a robust beard, had he not shaven once he entered the Blackwood. His adventures in the Northern Marches had destroyed much of his ancestral armor, so he now wears what banded plate and leather he can to maintain protection. With large hands, long legs, and broad shoulders, he makes an imposing figure to face down in combat. Personality Rannic is honorable and blunt, though he has a streak of free spirit from having been separated from his home for the last four years. Though he can be a bit gruff, he's earnest enough and tends to keep his word. As with most Thaegars, you'll find him a terrible enemy or a loyal friend given enough time to make his aquaintence. He values nothing more than to be implemented back into Thaegar society, though he's become comfortable with his lot in life. Gold and glory are fine companions for the young man, but it will take more than that for him to forget his father's word or his oath to his the thane. Background * Professional Soldier (Optional) * Lower Class * Son of the Blacksmith and Basket Weaver History (Optional) Motivation Rannic seeks to slay a Dragon or Giant, and to return either head to his clan for recompense of his previous crimes. Capabilities Attributes Combat [1/1] * Two Handed Sword [2] * Unarmed [1] * Two Handed Blunt [1] * Two Handed Cleave [1] Intelligence [1/1] * Legendry [1] * History [1] * Charisma [1/1] * * * Health [1/1] * Strength [2] * Constitution [1] * Toughness [1] * Stamina [1] Faculties [1/1] * Resolve [1] * Perception [1] * Agility [1/1] * Running [1] * Outdoors [1] * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * * * Money 3 Royals, 7 Lordlings, 20 Commons Languages Drimgoth, Northern Tongue</s> <\|message\|>Name The mage seemed to try and absorb the information. Clearly he was intelligent simply based on the look in his eye, but that didn't mean he wasn't useful. His gaze turned to the doorway, where one could see the vine covered wall of the inner tower that led down to the ground floor, and then he looked to the book cases with a monumental pile of books. It looked like he had been just as surprised to see Kyiriniae'aea as she, him. At her admittance to her plight, he almost seemed to stumble on himself. "Sure," He said, but then caught himself like someone had whipped him. "I mean- Yes, of course." He bowed and took her hand, giving it a light kiss. His voice was strong, and it had gained a bit of professionalism. "My apologies, I'm simply a little overwhelmed. I was fully expecting to fight someone to the death, not meet a lovely woman- er, Elven maiden such as yourself." He finally moved to the chair she had presented him, setting down and placing his knife in the sheath on his hip. He scratched his scalp, just below his thick mane of black hair. "Forgive me, I haven't explained much of anything, have I?" He asked. He spoke to scold himself just as much as to apologize to her. "As I said, I am Alcander. I'm an adept and mage of the Mythrin Tethir. Your portal... it was within the tower I had been given by my master, north of Greybridge city. Minutes ago I saw it come to life and I couldn't get a reading in my Crystal Sphere. It's dangerous magic to handle, though I'm certain you know that." It was clear he was used to speaking to other mages, but he was less used to speaking to elves or beautiful women and he tried to pass it off as if it were nothing. He also clearly seemed to think Kyra was far more knowledgable than he likely was, considering how old she could potentially be. "If we're in the Blackwood, then this very well might be in a Mythal Itha." He remarked, then he stood up slowly and decided to make his way over to the third bookshelf on the right, running his fingers over the spines of the books. Finally, after it looked as if he was going to take a book out and begin reading, he instead turned empty-handed. "I have so many questions but, tell me of this warlock?" Alcander placed his arm across his chest, in the same manner a man might hook his arm around a lady's, only before him rather than at his side. He bowed again. "I'll help you, if I can, Lady Kyra."</s> <\|message\|>Name Sylvaine sat down next to the Dwarf, who seems particularly downtrodden. In fact he looked like a particularly sullen bulldog that somehow learned to drink alcohol with the best of them. Judging by the empty mugs beside him and that an alcoholic haze surrounded his beard. He didn't seem to notice Sylvaine at first, finishing his fifth mug, emptying half of its contents by what looked to be a pure opening of his throat. It was almost fascinating to watch. Once the mug was down, however, he gave Sylvaine the stink eye. Though she seemed to be just charming enough to at least warrant some answers from him. "Day? Aye you could say that. More like a bloody week." He regurgitated, calling another drink. The Dwarf sighed, letting out a small belch. "Me cousin got himself lost in the Blackwood a few days ago. Ambushed by Orcs, you see. No, he's not dead. I know what yer thinking." He declared. "He's far too tough to let a little thing like violent orcs kill him off. No, he got himself lost and I hadn't the supplies or time to find him. I should go back out there, but I wouldn't even begin to know where to look." Meanwhile, Cillian found himself at a table alone. Though he had no one to speak to, it gave him a very good chance to listen. A low murmur of the crowd reverberated constantly in the background, but thankfully that didn't drown out the conversations of the closer or more prominent and interesting people. Most notably, the Skayeleigh woman that had stalked past them at the beginning seemed to know the Elven maiden and Gnome sitting with her, but it appeared they were simply there for a business transaction. A business of information, in fact. It was hard to tell exactly what they were discussing, but the mentioning of secrets and the very real bag of coin being slid across the table was something to take note of. It made sense, the city being very much a place of trade and tourism. It was logical to think someone would make it their business to know who was where and what was happening. @Romero</s> <\|message\|>Cillian Kindellan Glancing across to the bar that Sylvaine had gravitated towards, Cillian frowned slightly when he saw that she had apparently struck up a conversation with the dishevelled dwarf, rather than with the inn-keep. The dwarf certainly didn't look to be in a sharing mood, and although Cillian couldn't make out their conversation, he doubted they were discussing the acquirement of any food and drink. Or at least not for Cillian. Thankfully a lifetime of wandering, travelling wherever his feet took him, had left Cillian as a man with plenty of patience, and despite the pangs from his stomach, and the dryness of his mouth, the man from the Caelic Isles was always grateful for a moment of peace, and as he leant back in his chair, stretching out his tired legs, Cillian closed his eyes for a moment, and simply listened. It had been his mother's first story that had lit the fire within Cillian, but it had not been until he had first heard her sing that the flame had been whipped into an inferno. To hear the magic of her words, to feel the power of the legends in her voice, it had bewitched Cillian. He had spent untold hours sharing the stories he had learnt with anyone who was willing to listen, and as he had grown older, he had lent his own voice to the windswept hall of his village. Ever since that first song, Cillian had grown to appreciate the sounds of life, and as he leant back in his chair, the air around him was alive with noise, and it was like music to him. The murmur of a dozen voices filled the tavern, weaving together to form a wall of noise, each voice merging into the next, but there was more beyond that. The sound of boots on floorboards gave an uneasy beat to the symphony, and if Cillian concentrated, he could hear horseshoes on cobbles from the streets that ran past the tavern. Running beneath it all, like the silver thread along the hem of the chaotic tapestry, Cillian could still hear the roar of the river Heathric. The noise was at the heart of the city, just as the river itself was, and to Cillian, it was like the blood-flow of some mighty beast. In an instant, one noise cut through it all, and brought Cillian crashing back to reality, the tether frantically tugging for his full attention. The distinctive sound of a coin purse landing on a table, and being slid across it, was a sound that was all too familiar to Cillian, and as it cut through the hubbub of the tavern, the wandering bard was careful to keep his eyes closed, straining for the source of the sound. It didn't take him long to realise that it had come from the direction of the unusual trio that had had noticed when he had first entered. It seemed as if he would have to wait for something to eat, but his hunger was all but forgotten as he strained to overhear the conversation of the Skayeleigh warrior-woman, the Elven maiden and the Gnome gentleman. At worst, it would serve as a welcome distraction, and perhaps even make for an interesting tale. Attempt to overhear the conversation (Perception) = 1 + 1 = 2</s>	<\|message\|>Name "I have heard that bravery is much like beauty." Ithica said, whipping her head a bit like a proud stallion to get some of her hair's fringe out of her field of vision. She looked like she had decided to relax a bit on the drinking for a short moment. "It's in the eye of the beholder. I can't tell you how many times someone has thought I were brave when I was being foolish, or foolish when I was being brave. Perhaps it takes a bit of both to be a true hero." She turned Kane's way, smiling casually. "I don't think anyone would know that more than you, you big grunt." The Draconic Knight seemed distracted, watching over the crowd like a hound that had just caught a scent. Mira would catch the scent of sulfur in the air, supposedly coming from Kane's nostrils as small points of smoke wafted from them. It was extremely difficult to tell if he was angry or something else, but it was at just that moment when an older Dwarf walked out of the crowd. Mari would recognize him as the one that had been talking to the younger man Ithaca had mentioned before. The Dwarf looked like a well traveled adventurer, with a gleam of mischief in his eyes and a relatively lithe build (for a Dwarf). There was no real chance of knowing why he had approached, unfortunately, as Kane and the fellow began conversing in a strange, foreign language. Though it seemed they were on even friendly terms than Kane and Ithaca, which likely made some sense. Ithaca and Kane likely traveled a lot, just not together, happening to meet here often to trade stories and news from distant lands. The prospective daughter of Rán would see the Dwarf wave for the Drogator to follow him, and the big one would stomp through the crowd with the Dwarf. "Knowing Orek, they're likely about to go on some fool's errand deeper in the forest." Ithaca said, more to herself than Mari. Remembering the younger woman was still there, Ithaca cleared her throat. "Sorry, I get distracted." Her eyes went back to the departing two. "It's my job to know who is going where so I can save their ass if need be, or at least report missing persons. Not that those two are helpless. Po neither, if I know him." Ithaca decided to start drinking again, taking another long, hardy sip. Her biceps prominent from the simple movement. "Anyway, I doubt you'd care on what they're doing. How long do you plan to stay in town?"</s>
<\|description\|>Name Race \| Age \| Sex Appearance Personality Background * Profession (Optional) * Class * Heritage History (Optional) Motivation Capabilities Attributes Combat [0/1] * * * Intelligence [0/1] * * * Charisma [0/1] * * * Health [0/1] * * * Faculties [0/1] * * * Agility [0/1] * * * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * * * Money For simplicity's sake, we're doing 3 types of coinage. Royals (Gold), Lordlings (Silver), and Commons (Copper). They each measure 20 of the previous coinage. 20 Lordlings makes a Royal and 20 Commons makes a Lordling. You will roll for your currency. You will roll a D10 for Royals, D20 for Lordlings, and D100 for Commons. Languages Rannic Ulfsson Human (Thaegar) \| 27 \| Male Appearance Rannic stands at an impressive height (6'3), with a powerful physique and callused hands made for combat. His mane of hair is as brown as a wild oak, his eyes as green as leaves. He's not unhandsome and generally sports a robust beard, had he not shaven once he entered the Blackwood. His adventures in the Northern Marches had destroyed much of his ancestral armor, so he now wears what banded plate and leather he can to maintain protection. With large hands, long legs, and broad shoulders, he makes an imposing figure to face down in combat. Personality Rannic is honorable and blunt, though he has a streak of free spirit from having been separated from his home for the last four years. Though he can be a bit gruff, he's earnest enough and tends to keep his word. As with most Thaegars, you'll find him a terrible enemy or a loyal friend given enough time to make his aquaintence. He values nothing more than to be implemented back into Thaegar society, though he's become comfortable with his lot in life. Gold and glory are fine companions for the young man, but it will take more than that for him to forget his father's word or his oath to his the thane. Background * Professional Soldier (Optional) * Lower Class * Son of the Blacksmith and Basket Weaver History (Optional) Motivation Rannic seeks to slay a Dragon or Giant, and to return either head to his clan for recompense of his previous crimes. Capabilities Attributes Combat [1/1] * Two Handed Sword [2] * Unarmed [1] * Two Handed Blunt [1] * Two Handed Cleave [1] Intelligence [1/1] * Legendry [1] * History [1] * Charisma [1/1] * * * Health [1/1] * Strength [2] * Constitution [1] * Toughness [1] * Stamina [1] Faculties [1/1] * Resolve [1] * Perception [1] * Agility [1/1] * Running [1] * Outdoors [1] * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * * * Money 3 Royals, 7 Lordlings, 20 Commons Languages Drimgoth, Northern Tongue</s> <\|message\|>Name The Iron Star remained bustling with patrons, though as the time moved on a bit there were a few men and women who had regained their feet and headed off before the night crowd showed up. The 'business' transaction that Cillian was attempting to overhear didn't quite catch his ear, but he could see their manner and clearly knew bits of information were being passed. If he chose to remain there and do or say nothing, whatever opportunity might be there would pass. But of course, opportunities abounded in Greybridge, and he could check on his companion at the moment who seemed to be deep in conversation with a certain Dwarf. The Dwarf in question had either a bit too much (which was saying something for his stout kind) or he simply didn't care to scrutinize too much. Perhaps he was depressed? But he believed Sylvaine, and it was clear from the way he raised his head from his frothing mug, curiosity evident under his bushy brows. Of course, once Sylvaine mentioned coin, he had a sudden look of skepticism and distrusts, but it wasn't overt. It was obvious he would at least think about the proposal, and he did just that, stroking his thick beard as he considered. "Couple o' silver..." He groaned quietly and looked at his drink again. He was thinking that he could be giving them a few silver to fail or run off while he could instead use it to buy more drinks. Luckily, his Dwarven sense of clan and duty overrode his Dwarven love of ale. He suddenly spoke up. "Fine. Four silver coins, and ye get me cousin back in the week. If ye don't, yer to find me here at midday and pay me back. If I never see ye again, it won't turn out good for ye. We Dwarves have a long memory and a short temper, understand?" It was clearly a threat, but at the end of his speech, it was clear he dare not hope they would find his cousin again, lest he feel even more depressed at the prospect of failure. He handed Sylvaine four silver Lordlings just as the Skayleigh got up from the booth that Cillian was watching, making her way past his table. Her mace lightly bumped the tableside. @Romero</s> <\|message\|>Name The two were Knights of the Skull. A secretive order known for their ferocity and unwavering endurance in a fight. With those swords, it looked as if they could deal a large amount of damage as well. Emilio's words were not heeded, at least at first. The two seemed to not move for a good ten seconds, and it was hard to tell where their eyes were within the slits of their great helms. Wēlanandaz warning broke the silence, and not a moment later did the two suddenly move. An eerie palor would fall over most who saw them suddenly move, as it looked as possible as two statues that decided they were tired of standing still. "Follow us." One said. Which one was hard to tell, but the two didn't seem to wait for you to gather your thoughts of explain any of the things Emilio asked. Mercifully, the ground was far less broken and hilly now. It seemed to be almost a straight shot forward, though the trees and thickets were ever reaching and prominent around them, sometimes twigs/leaves clinging to Emilio's robes or Wēlanandaz's beard. The donkey seemed at ease at least, though if they were to try and get nearer the Knights, the donkey seemed oddly reluctant. Around half an hour later, the Knights would suddenly halt and split apart to allow your cart to pass. As you near the two, the trees give way to a stout stone wall looming out of the forested path, earthworks having separated the wall from the forest by about a dozen feet. Before you is a large wooden gateway, already slowly opening for the two of you to enter. The men atop the wall don't seem to be Knights of the Skull, or at least full fledged members. However the two would certainly see a few of them training in a small yard left of the gate, clinging to the side of the keep that shot into the sky. Olderin's Refuge, if this truly was the place, seemed to be a lowly built castle settlement, with two large walls sweeping over the landscape like a snake trying to push its form outwards. The keep, and the backgate the two now entered, was within the inner wall. The outer wall faced the north where the greater blackwood was located. As they entered, they saw two important aristocrats (judging by their clothing) speaking to one another near the training Knights, and a few squires and servants carrying horses to the stables across the way. Perhaps they would be better served finding work on the outer settlement? Pajamas@Jb</s> <\|message\|>Name Rittenvos was merely an outpost, but the fact that so many people filled the common room of the inn, and earlier when Mari saw the lively market, showcased just how much travelers and explorers counted upon this small bastion of civilization. In order to keep the flow moving, adventurers and mercenaries were likely as needed as fresh water. Little surprise then when Ithaca brought Mari across the common room to the very low-end, shoddy table that was attached to the wall. Ithaca elbowed her way over and gave Mari space to step forward, and she found herself in the company of four people. Kane sat on the ground, for the chair wouldn't be able to keep him aloft without breaking. The beast of a warrior was likely twice the weight of an already big man. She could see his thick tail splayed out behind him, resting like the tail of a crocodile. Next to him was a far shorter but still very heavy and dense fellow, Orek. He had an air of mischief and intelligence to him, and again he seemed to be leaner than most would expect from Dwarves. Likely for his traveling lifestyle. His garb was leather and cloth, though undoubtedly he had finely wrought chainmail beneath his cloak. He smiled through his beard when he saw Ithaca walk over, his pipe in his teeth. "Oh, are ye coming with us lass? Or did ye bring someone to take yer place?" Orek asked slyly. Both Orek and Kane were on the right side of the table. On the left were two striking people. One was a lovely elven woman, her blonde hair tied in a bun, her shapely form in a kalasiris, a strange priestly robe. She seemed particularly haughty in nature, raising an eyebrow at Mari when she appeared. Beside her was Po, who was even more handsome up close. His eyes sparkled with a fire that promised humor and intellect, and his dark mane of hair was cut just halfway down his neck. He was likely tall, despite the fact he was seated. He gave a friendly smile, his full lips noticably on his tanned skin. "I know you'll be having a bit of a get together tomorrow. Seeing as I'm leaving, I thought I might give you a recommendation." Ithaca said, and Mari would be playfully pushed forward a bit by the Praelian. Apparently she was still a bit too tipsy to be completely professional. "Hey," Po said casually, and he held his hand out to Mari to shake. "You were the warrior that made it here today, from the southern road?" "The one that riled the Dragon?" The Elf pipped in. "No one riled the Dragon, pointy ear." Orek said. "'Least, no one here." "Phyrrae doesn't like other women cramping her style." Po joked, which caused the elf to clearly take offense at that suggestion, though she didn't speak immediately.</s> <\|message\|>Mari Mari found herself pushed forward into a dashing group of adventurers, smiling a little awkwardly back at Ithaca. One of her sisters had fashioned her leathers, and while they were finely crafted, embossed and studded and fitted comfortably to her form, with swirling and twisting decorative elements of Norgardian design, Mari felt she was certainly the least impressive of this group. Kane and his plate armor she'd already encountered, but now she got a better look at the elven woman in her beautiful priestly robes. They were of Nestariel, the healer, or at least she thought, as the design was more exotic and archaic than other traveling priests she'd encountered before. Her gaze seemed to pierce through, but Mari paid it little mind. She was new, after all. The dwarf seemed friendly enough, Orek, and then there was Po, his hand outstretched towards her. "That's me," she said, giving it a shake. "My name's Mari, I've come from the Sea of Swords. I'm going to be here for a little while at least, so I thought I'd look for some opportunities." Her holy symbols of Rán were displayed openly hanging from her belts for the observant. She didn't laugh at Po's joke, only smiling a little, as she wasn't sure what the dynamic here was yet, and had no desire to turn the elven woman's disposition against her before they'd even begun. "I can pull my own weight in a fight and in the wild, if you'll have me."</s>	<\|message\|>Name When Torsten woke up again, it was midday...likely. The gloom permeated the forest floor, though by his prone position facing upwards, he could see the barest glimpse of the sun peaking through three small spots among the canopy. The other two lads were asleep, however judging by their light breathing, either would wake up as soon as a twig was broken. Torsten himself felt much better, at least compared to what he expected. He still ached all over and a broken rib or two wouldn't heal overnight. Torsten would lay there for a bit before any minute movements of trying to make himself more comfortable would awaken his allies, and then the three would have a hardy breakfast before breaking camp, tossing about the burnt logs and covering much of where they had been with large ferns and various foliage debris. Torsten was a tough one, getting ready and dressed like the other two despite his injuries, and after some deliberation on their path, they would begin to move south as they had been going the other day. The Blackwood seemed a world unto its own, misty far away and vaguely clear within thirty meters ahead, large trees framing every facet of every direction; inescapable. The cries of something pierced the veil of unease, though it wasn't a warcry as it was yesterday. The three warriors stiffened, able to pinpoint where the approaching man, for it sounded like one, was coming from. They would be able to deduce on if they should hide, run, or spring into action as they saw a fellow, clearly a merchant of some kind, stumbling and falling onto the overgrown underbrush of the forest floor. Behind him was a strange sight. A waif chased him in unremarkable trousers and a flowing linen top. Her auburn hair cut short and her eyes fixed on the running man. What either were doing here was unknown, but it was up to the three warriors to see what they would do in such an out of place situation.</s>
<\|description\|>Name Race \| Age \| Sex Appearance Personality Background * Profession (Optional) * Class * Heritage History (Optional) Motivation Capabilities Attributes Combat [0/1] * * * Intelligence [0/1] * * * Charisma [0/1] * * * Health [0/1] * * * Faculties [0/1] * * * Agility [0/1] * * * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * * * Money For simplicity's sake, we're doing 3 types of coinage. Royals (Gold), Lordlings (Silver), and Commons (Copper). They each measure 20 of the previous coinage. 20 Lordlings makes a Royal and 20 Commons makes a Lordling. You will roll for your currency. You will roll a D10 for Royals, D20 for Lordlings, and D100 for Commons. Languages Rannic Ulfsson Human (Thaegar) \| 27 \| Male Appearance Rannic stands at an impressive height (6'3), with a powerful physique and callused hands made for combat. His mane of hair is as brown as a wild oak, his eyes as green as leaves. He's not unhandsome and generally sports a robust beard, had he not shaven once he entered the Blackwood. His adventures in the Northern Marches had destroyed much of his ancestral armor, so he now wears what banded plate and leather he can to maintain protection. With large hands, long legs, and broad shoulders, he makes an imposing figure to face down in combat. Personality Rannic is honorable and blunt, though he has a streak of free spirit from having been separated from his home for the last four years. Though he can be a bit gruff, he's earnest enough and tends to keep his word. As with most Thaegars, you'll find him a terrible enemy or a loyal friend given enough time to make his aquaintence. He values nothing more than to be implemented back into Thaegar society, though he's become comfortable with his lot in life. Gold and glory are fine companions for the young man, but it will take more than that for him to forget his father's word or his oath to his the thane. Background * Professional Soldier (Optional) * Lower Class * Son of the Blacksmith and Basket Weaver History (Optional) Motivation Rannic seeks to slay a Dragon or Giant, and to return either head to his clan for recompense of his previous crimes. Capabilities Attributes Combat [1/1] * Two Handed Sword [2] * Unarmed [1] * Two Handed Blunt [1] * Two Handed Cleave [1] Intelligence [1/1] * Legendry [1] * History [1] * Charisma [1/1] * * * Health [1/1] * Strength [2] * Constitution [1] * Toughness [1] * Stamina [1] Faculties [1/1] * Resolve [1] * Perception [1] * Agility [1/1] * Running [1] * Outdoors [1] * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * * * Money 3 Royals, 7 Lordlings, 20 Commons Languages Drimgoth, Northern Tongue</s> <\|message\|>Name Not having given their names, Emilio and Wēlanandaz still could differentiate the now incredulous aristocrats clearly. The first one who complained the loudest was portly, with dark brown hair encompassing his curled hair to sweep down over his face and make a full, groomed goatee. His vest was purple and he seemed to be a bit more annoyed than the others when it came to the topic they spoke of. The next man was tall, with a hawk nose and a frock coat. He had hair on his head, though it was wispy and straw colored. The other looked a bit younger than them, average of height. Though he had strange, indigo eyes and black locks. He sported a dueling saber at his hip, just below a green vest of satin. The portly man looked at Emilio with only the barest hint of suppressed anger. The merchant would see that there were more armed men there than the Knights of the Skull, even if this was clearly their stronghold. The nobles had their own personal guard it seemed. It was hard to judge how many of them there were, though an educated guess would indicate anywhere from twenty, to about sixty to seventy men between all three of them. It was hard to gauge considering they did not seem to be about to venture forth themselves, with many of their men likely out and about performing various tasks. "Who the fuck are you?" The normally well mannered, bearded noble asked Emilio. He took a moment to stare down the merchant before he decided to turn away lest he order something of his guards he might regret later. "A sales pitch isn't necessarily what we need right now." The younger noble remarked, though he did seem more amused and annoyed, and perhaps even intrigued at the man who so brazenly walked up to the three of them discussing this dark business. As for the third fellow, he actually chuckled. It sounded like a chipmunk squeaking when it found it's favorite nut. "On the contrary. Bertram, perhaps this is what we need." He seemed to be referring to the portly one. "A Dwarf forged blade, or ones a stout one can vouche for, could give us an edge on whatever endeavors we find ourselves locked into." He imperiously waved a gesture at Emilio as he continued. "This fellow here seems a daring and smart one as well. Did not our father's father's become rich from such noble pursuits as salesmen." "My father gained nobility from slaying a Malgani Sorcerer that was threatening the Kingdom, Valence." The fat one snapped back. "And was he not able to afford Dwarf forged weaponry because his father peddled wares?" Valence asked. "Nathan, do help me out here." The young one shrugged. "I would like to hear what the Dwarf has to say." @Tony Pajamas</s> <\|message\|>Name "You'll have an easier time sleeping in the barn." The raven-haired woman said, doing her best to sweep whatever dust was on the porch away from the two newcomers. A strange pair by all accounts. Around them, the village was the epitome of the word 'quaint.' Men wore sporting vests of low quality whilst women wore wool dresses, though you could find either sex wearing workman's trousers if they were doing a menial job. There had to have been plenty of trade, as there was very little room for any farmland, and by any measure the soil was not made for it. The hamlet of Berute was situated in a small vale surrounded by jagged faces of rock that could hardly be called mountains. More like upjumped hills made of stone, guarding the small area from the greater Blackwood and it's more pressing dangers, at least that was the idea behind the town's inception. There were two known ways in and out; the southern route and the northern route. The two adventurers had made their way through the south, from left the town of Gladstone a week previously. Their provisions now low, Berute seemed like a dream come true. Lovely thatched houses and little in the appearance of deadly beasts. The only real indication this was still within the Blackwood was the large trees that had been spaced a bit less thickly as they hiked through the glens and glades toward the little village. Cows and other livestock had been grazing in the forest beside them as they had walked, which was likely the town's main source of food and comfort. Now, the two had sought a place to stay for the night as any would expect them to. As it were, that didn't seem to be working out. "Look..." the woman said, leaning her broom on the wall and facing the two. She was a pretty woman with green eyes, though it was easy to imagine them flaring in severity if she grew angry. "I do deeply apologize for the lack of space. But we do have a barn. It's clean and we can provide some blanket. All you'll need to do is pay for the food." A cart passed behind them, two handsome horses carrying a load of crates. Behind it, an Elf played a tune on a lye as two Dwarves grumbled, hauling sacks of grain while trying not to tell the elf to be quiet too harshly. Truthfully it was a beautiful melody, but Dwarves weren't elven fans at the best of times. @Tortoise</s> <\|message\|>Cillian Kindellan Cillian had risen to his feet as he spoke, and as the unusual pair turned to look at him, he took a tentative step closer to their table, the well-rehearsed smile never leaving his face. If nothing else, his introduction seemed to distract the pair from squabbling over the fat coin purse, and that was as good a start as any. The pause in bickering was only short-lived, and Cillian quickly got the impression that the elf and the gnome were old friends, arguing back and forth, each looking to gain the upper hand. Cillian's smile didn't falter, but behind the pale blue eyes, his mind was racing to keep up with the overlapping intricacies of the conversation. He had the distinct feeling that he was being played, the pair perhaps sniffing out the oppurtunity that a fumbling newcomer might present. He had names now at least, but even those set him ill at ease. The elf was Saskia, and the gnome Calvin, but it had been the gnome's reaction that had surprised Cillian. Was it simply being introduced as a sidekick that had taken him by surprise, or was it the name itself? Before Cillian could ponder too long on the thought, his mind caught up with his ears, and he realised that the pair were looking at him expectantly. Ever the showman, Cillian grinned widely again as he spread his arms wide. Perhaps the pair were looking to swindle him, or perhaps it was simply idle curiosity, but whatever the reason, they had agreed to be his audience, and Cillian had never been one to walk away from a willing audience. Taverns had been his stage countless times in the past, and despite the unfamiliarity of the city beyond the building's walls, the bard was in his element, the fire behind his eyes slowly flickering into a blaze as he spoke. "I have many tales to tell, if you only have the time, but it is a tale that I cannot yet tell that has brought me to this fair city. Ever since I was a boy, clinging to my mother's skirts, I was haunted by dreams of darkness. But this was not the darkness that plagues all children, the darkness of shadows and things that go bump in the night, this darkness was deep, and it called my name. It was only as I grew older, and heard the tales and legends of the world, that I learned the name of that darkness. The Blackwood. Ever since that day, the darkness has continued to call to me, and although my path has been long and winding, I always knew that it would eventually lead me here. The inky darkness waits on the other side of the raging waters, and I know that my fate lies within it. I am a man of legends and grand tales, and the Blackwood will grant me my greatest stories, I need only for someone to strike the first match. Friends, the two of you strike me as seasoned travellers, familiar with these parts. I wonder then, if your paths have ever led you beyond the water, and into the darkness beyond..." Cillian allowed himself to tail off, the sound of his own heart pounding in his ears, a single pale eyebrow raised towards the pair. He hoped that his hunch was correct, that the unusual pair would not be lingering in Greybridge without having travelled into the Blackwood, or at least know the tales of those that had. Perhaps this was a dead end, perhaps it would simply an oppurtunity to waste away some time, but Cillian could not shake the clinging sense that there was something else here, something more. Attempt to charm the unlikely pair, in hopes that it might loosen lips (Charm) = 3 + 1 = 4</s>	<\|message\|>Name It did indeed have coin involved, she would soon find out. Any ring recaptured by them sold for twelve thousand silver lordlings, which equated to six hundred gold royals Orek was quick to point out. Any information on their whereabouts was also richly sought after. Were Mari to attempt to perceive, she might try and deduce who sought what from the rings. Of course, asking them was always an easy choice as well. The night did not last much longer, at least for most of the folk. The party died down soon after, and though the troupe stayed up into the night, darkness enshrouding their visages as they drank and spoke, even they began to grow weary. Phyrrae was the first to decide it was time to call it a night, though she decided it was even more prudent to go and order a few drinks for the journey in case they needed a little loosening up after a victory for celebration, so she now stood at the bar alone, awaiting the bartender to return from another duty. Orek and Kane stayed where they were, speaking in low murmurs in their ancient tongue. Pipe and dragon smoke wafted around them, and any who sat near them would feel a very ancient conversation and feel as one might when listening to a tale of old. Kane had devoured an entire chicken earlier, and Orek near matched him. The old Dwarf seemed to know far more than any in the place, and perhaps more than anyone Mari had ever met. There was something in his eyes that spoke of untapped experience along with not an insufficient amount of cleverness. Po had taken to speaking with Ithaca for a brief period on one of the newly vacated tables at the center of the room. However, Ithaca was one of the ones who needed to find sleep early. That left Po at the table, having found himself drawn into an old book with leather bindings, a dragon mark being the only noticeable aspect of the cover. Beside him was his walking staff and a jug of water he idly sipped. Before Ithaca had left for bed, she approached Mari and gave her a smile. She looked between her and the others. "I know we only just met, but I feel like you're the responsible one. Keep an eye on them." The warrior said. Placing a hand on Mari's shoulder, she clapped it powerfully. "Stay out of trouble too. If you're alive in two weeks, I'll buy you another drink." With that, Ithaca made her way up stairs to bed. The night grew darker as the outside lights were snuffed out, and now Mari saw three lights within the room. One at the table with Orek and Kane, another light above Po, and the third beside the lounging Phyrrae across the room. Would she go to any of them? Or go to sleep?</s>
<\|description\|>Name Race \| Age \| Sex Appearance Personality Background * Profession (Optional) * Class * Heritage History (Optional) Motivation Capabilities Attributes Combat [0/1] * * * Intelligence [0/1] * * * Charisma [0/1] * * * Health [0/1] * * * Faculties [0/1] * * * Agility [0/1] * * * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * * * Money For simplicity's sake, we're doing 3 types of coinage. Royals (Gold), Lordlings (Silver), and Commons (Copper). They each measure 20 of the previous coinage. 20 Lordlings makes a Royal and 20 Commons makes a Lordling. You will roll for your currency. You will roll a D10 for Royals, D20 for Lordlings, and D100 for Commons. Languages Rannic Ulfsson Human (Thaegar) \| 27 \| Male Appearance Rannic stands at an impressive height (6'3), with a powerful physique and callused hands made for combat. His mane of hair is as brown as a wild oak, his eyes as green as leaves. He's not unhandsome and generally sports a robust beard, had he not shaven once he entered the Blackwood. His adventures in the Northern Marches had destroyed much of his ancestral armor, so he now wears what banded plate and leather he can to maintain protection. With large hands, long legs, and broad shoulders, he makes an imposing figure to face down in combat. Personality Rannic is honorable and blunt, though he has a streak of free spirit from having been separated from his home for the last four years. Though he can be a bit gruff, he's earnest enough and tends to keep his word. As with most Thaegars, you'll find him a terrible enemy or a loyal friend given enough time to make his aquaintence. He values nothing more than to be implemented back into Thaegar society, though he's become comfortable with his lot in life. Gold and glory are fine companions for the young man, but it will take more than that for him to forget his father's word or his oath to his the thane. Background * Professional Soldier (Optional) * Lower Class * Son of the Blacksmith and Basket Weaver History (Optional) Motivation Rannic seeks to slay a Dragon or Giant, and to return either head to his clan for recompense of his previous crimes. Capabilities Attributes Combat [1/1] * Two Handed Sword [2] * Unarmed [1] * Two Handed Blunt [1] * Two Handed Cleave [1] Intelligence [1/1] * Legendry [1] * History [1] * Charisma [1/1] * * * Health [1/1] * Strength [2] * Constitution [1] * Toughness [1] * Stamina [1] Faculties [1/1] * Resolve [1] * Perception [1] * Agility [1/1] * Running [1] * Outdoors [1] * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * * * Money 3 Royals, 7 Lordlings, 20 Commons Languages Drimgoth, Northern Tongue</s> <\|message\|>Mari Mari came to with the sun and the sounds of the waking town, slipping out of bed with an alertness and energy she hadn't felt for the last few days. Something about the potential of the day to come, no doubt. She put herself together with haste; there was no time (or point) to a bath, but she was sure to at least wash her face and attempt to tame her mess of auburn hair. Getting all of her armor and gear on wasn't a swift process, but she'd done it enough by now to do so without thinking, finishing by fastening her heavy sword belt, laden with weapons and pouches and holy symbols, around her waist. Slinging her wooden shield over her shoulder, Mari made her way out of the room and collected a quick breakfast. She didn't have much of an appetite, but made sure to at least get something in her belly for the long road ahead. She headed for the northern gate to meet up with the others, noticing Kane first, and the dwarf and elf second playing their game off to the side. Mari had played before with her sisters, enough to recognize the underhanded move Phyrrae pulled when Orek greeted her. "Good morning!" was all she said back to the pair of them. The Murkrift Kane spoke of as their road, a place in the forest not teeming with Orcs, but perhaps something else that they seemed hesitant to speak of. Po seemed to believe it would be manageable when he arrived with the other fellow, Sinclair, and that was enough for Mari. She didn't wrench her hand away when he grabbed and kissed it, though she also didn't hide her eyeroll. Vrettonian by his accent, and somehow Mari wasn't surprised. When he released her hand, she let it rest casually on the hilt of her blade, but Po interrupted before she could pick a response, sending Sinclair to speak more with the dwarf. "Thanks for that," she said under breath. "This Murkrift, you said the water's acidic? Something dwells within it even still?" Orcs she figured she could handle with her sword, but acidic water and unknown things sleeping within wasn't something she knew how to approach. Not yet, anyway.</s> <\|message\|>Name Within five hours, Emilio and Wēlanandaz found themselves setting up shop as the sun began to set in the distance. It would have been a good time to get a bead on their fellow merchants, but their day was winding to a close. Thankfully, Emilion and Wēlanandaz had gotten a great location thanks to Emilio's lawyerings and the Dwarf's impeccable craftsmanship. The architecture around them was clean and well carved, and at the center of a small courtyard was a large fountain where the small amount of citizenry enjoyed spending their time. As the two of them cleaned their shop, which was a larger shop area with a counter, and an area to hang up whatever items they might have, there was a knock at the door, and without waiting for an answer a slim woman wearing a business suit entered, looking around. Her hair was cut short and her eyes were covered in spectacles. "Yes, is this the...are you Emilio and Wēlanandaz? Here are the contracts you wished for. You will speak to the lords tomorrow to give them your answer on their offers of discounts or supply." She declared, handing Wēlanandaz the papers. She seemed to never smile, scrutinizing the two of them as if they were unwanted feral dogs that happened to wander into the fortified town. "I have been told you two have two rooms to accommodate you here. The lords are being quite generous to you both. Do appreciate it." The most prominent area that Wēlanandaz would appreciate was in the small area in the back, where a small place for a forge had been set up. Unfortunately, there was only a bloomery out there. They would need to purchase the anvil, the coals, and the tools, unless they had already brought any of them via their donkey and their cart. Pajamas@Jb --- The forest around them was deathly quiet, which merely served to make their struggles seem louder. Or his struggle more like. The fellow that was running seemed a bit too well fed to be out and about in the Blackwood alone. In real time, he tripped over what was an easily surmountable and visible root stuck out of the ground. He clawed his way forward before evidently not wishing to die with his backturned, rolling over to pull himself backward. "No, please! Don't kill me, foul woman!" The woman was certainly following him, but she made no move toward a weapon, or even had a stance that betrayed her being aggressive save the fact she seemed greatly annoyed by the look on her face. The fat merchant saw Torsten and his two companions step out of the wood, and he looked as if the Gods had answered his prayers. Cheeks flushed, he called to them. "Please kind sirs, save me! She is a werewolf! A foul northern witch of Norgard I say! Kill her before she speaks!" The woman stopped when Torsten ordered, but she did not answer him immediately. She crossed her arms. "Am I a witch or a werewolf? Which is it you oaf." She stepped forward and reached out to him, and as he scrambled away she grabbed at his coinpurse and hefted it in her hands. Turning to the newcomers, she held out her other hand defensively. "This man tried to cheat me at cards. I saw through it and beat him at his own game. For some reason he thought it magic." "It was sorcery, I swear." The merchant pleased, breathing heavily. "I saw the card change in my hand! Even my fellows were bewitched to her."</s>	<\|message\|>Name Saskia plucked the coin from his hand, a small 'ping' echoing when the metal touched one the undersides of her rings. She looked as pleased as any money grubber when presented with money, though it was plain to see that Cillian's tale had softened her mood and endeared her a bit. Calvin took a large swig of his ale while Saskia scooted over and let Cillian sit there beside her. The Elf placed the coins in her coinpurse and then cupped her hands around her flagon, taking a swig herself. "The Blackwood, yes. I assume you'd want to hear about the local woods, right?" "The dangers?" Calvin piped in, trying to be helpful. It was evident he also wanted to hear, like a child hearing a ghost story for the thrill and entertainment. "Of course." Saskia laughed lightly. "Keep in mind I don't know every terror you might face, but my information is reliable. The local woods aren't too dangerous. Maybe a Varghulf pack here or there, or a chimera looking to feast. Or bandits, of course." The prospects were but a muse to her as she considered. "Now, if you are to travel northwards, you'll find the Blackwood Baronies. Petty lords fighting for territory over Gorthaur the Wraithking's shattered lands. Some say the Wraithking, or at least some of his minions, still reside there. To the east, wretched bogs and dense forests of fey spirits. If you're lucky you'll run into a Centaur or an Elf, though they are not of my kin and will shoot you if you haven't a good reason to be there. Even for me, it is hard to determine what they would want. I do hear some of the forest gods demand a sacrifice." "Heard some nastiness, I have." Calvin said. "Some people get taken by them and are never seen again." Saskia shrugged. "Couldn't say what happens to them. Maybe they're taken to the broken realm of the fey? Either way, your biggest worry is southwards. I hear a large horde of Orcs is passing through the southern Blackwood, and there have been rumors of demon cults in some of the fortified towns. Not to mention the Dragon..." The Elf took a huge swig of her drink, and clapped it back onto the table as any hard man would. "The roads are difficult eastward. The north is likely the safest in terms of travel, but in staying? Not too sure. Hope this helped." LEVEL UP You gain 2 skill points to spend them where you like! --- "No problem." Po said to her easily, one hand on his staff, though he looked a bit embarrassed a moment later. "Sorry, I didn't invite him, but he did save my life before and insisted on coming." As for her question, he seemed to sober up a bit. "A Dragon. Maybe. Not the one that Ithaca said you saw, but another one, we think. No one really knows for sure, but people have gone through the Murkrift before and lived. We might need to if the Orcs aren't gone within a day. For now I think we'll just move north until we can be sure." Behind them both, Orek fished into his pocket and paid Phyrrae a small price of coins for her victory over him in their board game. To make the Dwarf's mood even more sour, Sinclair made it to him and gave a bow. "Monsieur Dwarf, I am ready for adventure." He proclaimed, politely inclining his head to the Dwarf, hand on the hilt of his admittedly beautiful sword. His accent was as thick as ever and hard to make out. "I am packed and have food for two days travel. When is the next city we will make berth at?" "Three days." Orek said, sardonically cheerful. He picked himself up off his seat on the porch and smiled to the man. Kane had already made it to the foot of the gate, standing there like a primordial guardian. Sinclair's face turned comically distraught. "Assuming it hasn't been razed to the ground by Orcs, and that's also assuming we don't go through the Murkrift bog, which we probably will. Anymore questions or can we begin our trek?" "Erh..." Sinclair seemed at a loss for words. "We'll discuss it when we make camp tonight." Po piped in, having stepped forward beside them. His easy going smile defused the sternness of the conversation in a fashion. "Don't worry Sinclair, I've plenty of food to share. Plus everything in the Blackwood is huge. Whatever food is in there, it'll fill us up." "Provided it's not poisonous" Phyrrae said, striding past Sinclair who glanced at her the way an unwanted man often did. Her scowl had him looking away, however. Phyrrae made her way beside Mari, a strange star-headed scepter in the elven woman's hand. As the group made it to the gate, Kane let out a burst of flame from his mouth, halting all conversation for the moment. It was akin to a bonfire being shot out of the mouth of a small crocodile. "Let us embark!" He announced. LEVEL UP You gain 2 skill points to spend them where you like!</s>
<\|description\|>Name Race \| Age \| Sex Appearance Personality Background * Profession (Optional) * Class * Heritage History (Optional) Motivation Capabilities Attributes Combat [0/1] * * * Intelligence [0/1] * * * Charisma [0/1] * * * Health [0/1] * * * Faculties [0/1] * * * Agility [0/1] * * * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * * * Money For simplicity's sake, we're doing 3 types of coinage. Royals (Gold), Lordlings (Silver), and Commons (Copper). They each measure 20 of the previous coinage. 20 Lordlings makes a Royal and 20 Commons makes a Lordling. You will roll for your currency. You will roll a D10 for Royals, D20 for Lordlings, and D100 for Commons. Languages Rannic Ulfsson Human (Thaegar) \| 27 \| Male Appearance Rannic stands at an impressive height (6'3), with a powerful physique and callused hands made for combat. His mane of hair is as brown as a wild oak, his eyes as green as leaves. He's not unhandsome and generally sports a robust beard, had he not shaven once he entered the Blackwood. His adventures in the Northern Marches had destroyed much of his ancestral armor, so he now wears what banded plate and leather he can to maintain protection. With large hands, long legs, and broad shoulders, he makes an imposing figure to face down in combat. Personality Rannic is honorable and blunt, though he has a streak of free spirit from having been separated from his home for the last four years. Though he can be a bit gruff, he's earnest enough and tends to keep his word. As with most Thaegars, you'll find him a terrible enemy or a loyal friend given enough time to make his aquaintence. He values nothing more than to be implemented back into Thaegar society, though he's become comfortable with his lot in life. Gold and glory are fine companions for the young man, but it will take more than that for him to forget his father's word or his oath to his the thane. Background * Professional Soldier (Optional) * Lower Class * Son of the Blacksmith and Basket Weaver History (Optional) Motivation Rannic seeks to slay a Dragon or Giant, and to return either head to his clan for recompense of his previous crimes. Capabilities Attributes Combat [1/1] * Two Handed Sword [2] * Unarmed [1] * Two Handed Blunt [1] * Two Handed Cleave [1] Intelligence [1/1] * Legendry [1] * History [1] * Charisma [1/1] * * * Health [1/1] * Strength [2] * Constitution [1] * Toughness [1] * Stamina [1] Faculties [1/1] * Resolve [1] * Perception [1] * Agility [1/1] * Running [1] * Outdoors [1] * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * * * Money 3 Royals, 7 Lordlings, 20 Commons Languages Drimgoth, Northern Tongue</s> <\|message\|>Mari Mari gains... +1 Perception +1 Diplomacy A dragon. Brilliant. Mari would take her chances against orcs over facing a dragon dwelling in an acidic swamp, but if indeed it slumbered, perhaps it was the best bet. Three days' travel or more sounded like an ordeal, but Mari had the suspicion that any travel in these woods was risky to begin with. She had enough rations for herself, and could stretch them if need be. Probably wise to do so regardless, in case matters on their route got complicated. It was a diverse and interesting group of adventurers she'd manage to attach herself to, and Mari doubted that feeling of being the "new girl" would go away any time soon. They all seemed to know each other and have experience working together, to some degree. She walked alongside Phyrrae as they set out, quiet at first, keeping an eye on her surroundings and a hand always near her blade's hilt. The woods were calm in the morning, beautiful even, and she made a point to enjoy it while she had the chance. "You've a quick hand," she said quietly to the elven woman. "Not the first time you've won coin from Orek at that game, I'm guessing."</s> <\|message\|>Cillian Kindellan Cillian could barely hear the elf over the roaring in his ears. He had heard the stories about the Blackwood, huddled around distant campfires or above the merriment of a dozen different taverns, but they still lit the fire within himself. Lost souls, fey spirits, an orc horde, demonic cults, if even half of the things that the elf was saying were true, then Cillian would find enough adventure to write a hundred songs. He had always known that his path would lead him into the darkness of the Blackwood, but even as the fire blazed into an inferno, he caught himself. When he was a younger man, he had been hot-headed, impetuous, too quick to throw himself into the jaws of danger just to feel the rush of adrenaline, just to feel alive, but he was older now, and he had not made it this far without cooling off a little. Wiser? Perhaps not, but he had enough scars across his body to have learnt a few lessons. His first instinct was still to leap at the opportunity, and the elf's words were more than enough to make Cillian want to plunge into the very heart of the Blackwood, but age, and experience, had given Cillian enough of a second instinct to stop and think. The spell seemed to break, and the hunger pains in Cillian's stomach suddenly came to life again, almost making him wince. Even the drink the elf's hand was enough to make his mouth dry. The Blackwood had been calling to Cillian for as long as he could remember, he was sure that he could ignore the voice for at least another night. Letting the easy smile on his face remain unflinching, Cillian nodded his thanks towards the elf. "You have been more than helpful, friend, thank you. I hope I am not imposing too greatly if I offer to buy you both a drink for your time. Something hot to eat perhaps?" Cillian was a stranger in a strange town, and the unusual pair across the table were the closest thing to friends that he had. If nothing else, they seemed as if they would be good company while he filled his belly and satisfied his thirst, and if he was to head across the river and into the depths of the forest, then this elf maiden, this 'Saskia' was the closest thing to a guide that he had found. If he could tease some more information out of her for the price of another flagon? Then he would consider the day a success. Attempt to convince the pair to stay awhile and share a drink (Charm) = 5 + 2 = 7</s> <\|message\|>Name Three days past the city of Andorhaven, the sun was finally loving some of its luster. The past few days it had been bright, with ne'er a cloud in the sky to hide the passing of Aeryn the dark maiden. When carriages or patrols passed her, she did well to either hide her face or hide her presence, but now the Blackwood bore over her in full. The melancholic dim of the looming forest was almost a comforting blanket to her, though even she would be aptly aware of its myriad of dangers. With no steed to speak of, she still made good time. Elves, even dorcha could move swiftly under both the sun and the moon, needing little in the way of sustenance unless tired beyond the norm. However, closing in on four days of travel without much respite would wear on nearly anyone. She would need to make camp for the coming night, if for no other reason than to sit and eat what rations she had, and to acclimate to her new surroundings. The landscape was filled with brush and thick grass, the trees growing thicker and covered in moss. Some had great rending claw marks that told the paths of great beasts, but none looked fresh, thankfully. If she continued east, in two days time she would make it to the Blackwood Baronies, if the peddler was to be believed. Perhaps there she could get her bearings and find rumors of treasure further south, or even find work as a mercenary. The Baronies weren't known for their tolerance, but many Barons were often desperate. Who knows, some might be in need of a woman who could pull off subterfuge and assassination. The possibilities, much like the Blackwood, were nearly endless. Moving from tree to tree, Aeryn's keen ears could pick up soft sounds in the distance. A few guttural giggles, though it was clear they weren't at her expense. She could hear further than most could see, and her eyes were nearly as keen. If she were to look to the south, a small scene unfolded before her. Three hunched figured, skin mottled and burnt and ears stretched like they were made of hot wax, anyone of Dorcha blood would recognize gundarogs. They poked and prodded a dead man in the brush a hundred yards away, having found a nice treat in the small clearing they now stood in. The largest gundarog took its jagged sword and began sawing at the man's left arm, clearly taking a large piece to feast upon. Aeryn then heard another noise. One she wouldn't recognize, and yet it was hauntingly familiar. Her eyes saw movement before it became apparent what else lurked in the Blackwood. To her (and particularly the gundarog's) surprise, a huge wolf the size of a warhorse suddenly charged out of the tree line, moving like a normal wolf would when going after a rabbit or a deer. The large gundarog had no chance in hell, the thing's maw clamping over half of its body and rending it mercilessly. Before the second monster could make a cry of anguish, it was shoved into the dirt by the predator's paw, crushing its rib cage and keeping it immobile and helpless. The last gundarog loped away as quickly as its long limbs could carry it, sending it straight into the direction of Aeryn. Gundarogs had good eyes in the dark, but it wasn't looking at Aeryn as it ran. What was the dorcha to do?</s>	<\|message\|>Name Valerie Richardson blinked, surprised at the Skayleigh. Most humans, particularly non-fighters would be cowed or intimidated by the half giant's intimidating glare and manner. But she seemed to made of sterner stuff than that, which would make sense. The valley they were in was peaceful, but they were still in the Blackwood after all. "You seem to misunderstand me. Seeing as you're not human, I'll give you another chance to try that again." She said, hands on her hips. "We don't have a room, which is why our cook and my boss made sure I didn't offer one. You get the barn, or you can keep walking until you find another place to sleep. Do you understand or is there a way I can make it more clear, because I hope I can make your stay as pleasant as possible." She spoke through gritted teeth. The responsible but tired woman had been replaced with someone who was not going to take any further shit from someone that day. The next day... Arden had slept well, despite the distant howls of wolves to the east. His tall, lean form was tougher than most soft humans, so he barely felt any discomfort from the hay once the blanket was put over it, and the food was provided helped ease his mood. Valerie had showed him to where the barn lay, but the blankets and the food that were provided to him was by a small boy named Leder. He barely said much of anything, though he seemed wide eyed and curious on the strange tall newcomer. This morning, Leder had opened the barn door and brought him his food by setting it down on a crate. It was fresh bread and ham, with fresh squeezed orange juice. Not knowing if Arden was asleep or awake, he didn't say anything to the Skayleig. He did seem to contradict his carefulness when he took a poster of parchment paper and began hammering it onto the front door of the barn. Quite loudly, one would notice. On it were two missing men, with a reward for fifty gold royals each for finding them alive, and 30 royals each for finding their bodies. Last seen north of the hamlet. --- "Are you mad!? You're siding with such a witch!?" The fat man blathered, and it became clear he was on some sort of alcoholic beverage or narcotic. "Sir, you are out of your min-" The next thing Torsten and his companion's knew, the man had been knocked out by a kick to the head from the woman. It wasn't a particularly savage one, and once she was done she made no further moves to harm him. The slim woman seemed to just be glad that was over with. No danger seemed to be creeping up on them from behind or beyond, so at the moment it was safe to just focus on their present situation, which was a woman and an unconscious card cheater. "I just had to shut him up. Believe me, carrying him will be a lot easier than listening to him if we are to make it back to Oakhollow." She said, tying her coinpurse on her leather belt. On it, Torsten would see a basilard dagger strapped to it at her hip. "That is why you came this way, right? Oakhollow's the only real settlement this side of the Blackwood, after all. Or are you hunters? Big game is very prized in the inner Kingdom of Andred, I hear. I'm a newcomer myself from the Northern Marches." Pulling at her vest and fixing it, she blew a fringe of hair out of her eyes and approached the three men, holding a hand out to shake for any that would grab it. "I am Alanya, daughter of Burgrave Rochestor. If you're going to Oakhollow, I'll follow. Otherwise this seems to be hello and goodbye."</s>
<\|description\|>Name Race \| Age \| Sex Appearance Personality Background * Profession (Optional) * Class * Heritage History (Optional) Motivation Capabilities Attributes Combat [0/1] * * * Intelligence [0/1] * * * Charisma [0/1] * * * Health [0/1] * * * Faculties [0/1] * * * Agility [0/1] * * * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * * * Money For simplicity's sake, we're doing 3 types of coinage. Royals (Gold), Lordlings (Silver), and Commons (Copper). They each measure 20 of the previous coinage. 20 Lordlings makes a Royal and 20 Commons makes a Lordling. You will roll for your currency. You will roll a D10 for Royals, D20 for Lordlings, and D100 for Commons. Languages Rannic Ulfsson Human (Thaegar) \| 27 \| Male Appearance Rannic stands at an impressive height (6'3), with a powerful physique and callused hands made for combat. His mane of hair is as brown as a wild oak, his eyes as green as leaves. He's not unhandsome and generally sports a robust beard, had he not shaven once he entered the Blackwood. His adventures in the Northern Marches had destroyed much of his ancestral armor, so he now wears what banded plate and leather he can to maintain protection. With large hands, long legs, and broad shoulders, he makes an imposing figure to face down in combat. Personality Rannic is honorable and blunt, though he has a streak of free spirit from having been separated from his home for the last four years. Though he can be a bit gruff, he's earnest enough and tends to keep his word. As with most Thaegars, you'll find him a terrible enemy or a loyal friend given enough time to make his aquaintence. He values nothing more than to be implemented back into Thaegar society, though he's become comfortable with his lot in life. Gold and glory are fine companions for the young man, but it will take more than that for him to forget his father's word or his oath to his the thane. Background * Professional Soldier (Optional) * Lower Class * Son of the Blacksmith and Basket Weaver History (Optional) Motivation Rannic seeks to slay a Dragon or Giant, and to return either head to his clan for recompense of his previous crimes. Capabilities Attributes Combat [1/1] * Two Handed Sword [2] * Unarmed [1] * Two Handed Blunt [1] * Two Handed Cleave [1] Intelligence [1/1] * Legendry [1] * History [1] * Charisma [1/1] * * * Health [1/1] * Strength [2] * Constitution [1] * Toughness [1] * Stamina [1] Faculties [1/1] * Resolve [1] * Perception [1] * Agility [1/1] * Running [1] * Outdoors [1] * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * * * Money 3 Royals, 7 Lordlings, 20 Commons Languages Drimgoth, Northern Tongue</s> <\|message\|>Aeryn Fengwyn It quite obviously had not been her day, Aeryn thought as she gazed down at her feet. A blister on the side of her ankle from walking. She prodded at it with her forefinger, the sharpness of her nail popped the skin and it began to leak down over her skin to pool upon the fabric of her sock. She shrugged at it nonchalantly, putting her boots back on again - the sting was only minor, and the rumble in her stomach louder. She was at the last of her rations, and she pulled out from her bag the last strips of meat she had. They were worse for wear now, covered in the dirt from the inside lining of the bag, and dryer still. Luckily, she had her secret weapon tucked away. As she pulled it out, she licked her lips and almost smiled. The corners of her mouth curling mischievously as she turned the lid off the jar. It popped, and a small amount of steam flowed over the rim as she gazed down into the bubbling liquid. Chilli jam. Happily, she dunked the strips of meat into the sauce. It would have been considered far too hot for a regular palette. She had witnessed men cry at a very sniff of the stuff, here she was being incredibly liberal in the application of it on her jerky. Shrouded under her cloak, she remained hidden up in the branches of her chosen tree. Rations finished, she was still hungry. Her ears picked up the quiet little click-clack footsteps of a tree-beetle to her left. She raised a brow, and looked left and right as if by instinct, hoping nobody else was around even if she knew there was not. Swiftly, she grabbed the crunchy bug and shoved it into her mouth as it still wriggled in her grip. It wriggled more in her mouth, one of it's squirming legs escaped her lips until she bit down into the centre. It was... [i]Runny[/i. She frowned. "Blech," she mumbled out as it dribbled over her lip. There was only one thing that would wash down the taste. And then she took a swig from the jam as if it were a drink. A sneaky, hot belch followed. She was no longer hungry, and somewhere in the trunk of the tree, there would be a newly orphaned nest of tree beetles. --- Some moments later, all hell had broken loose in the distance -- and that distance was coming toward her at full speed. Her reflexes kicked in, and she armed herself first with the crossbow. Wolf was a bigger threat than the Gundarog, but the wolf was also a majestic beast, and the Gundarog was an ugly creature. The wolf would provide her with a nice warm pelt and enough meat to last her for days. But the Gundarog was an ugly creature. If she left the Gundarog for the wolf, the beast would soon be full and come after her. She had to think fast. Finally, she fired off a bolt from the crossbow -- directly above the Gundarog. She sent it splintering into a weakened branch on a nearby tree. It came tumbling down with a crash, right between the Gundarog and her. "Give all rations and I kill wolf," she said.</s> <\|message\|>Torsten Meier "I am Alanya, daughter of Burgrave Rochestor. If you're going to Oakhollow, I'll follow. Otherwise this seems to be hello and goodbye." Torsten shook the woman's hand as did his compatriots in turn. "My name is Torsten Meier. Most folks just call me Torsten." As she shook her friend's hands, he introduced them to her. "This is Ulf Gunnerson, otherwise known as Wolf." Wolf was a small wiry man about five and a half feet tall. Although his brown hair was starting to gray already, the man was only thirty three summers in age. His Fu Manchu mustache and beard were peppered with a few gray hairs as well. Wolf simply nodded towards Alanya. He didn't know what to say. The second friend stood 6' 4" tall, with rippling muscles bulging over his arms, legs and chest. He was a very impressive man to look at; handsome to boot. One wout noticed his bleached blonde hair, with his beard in a tight braid dangling off his chin and ending below the top edge of his hauberk. "This jötunn is Njal Osborne or Oz." "Nice to make your acquaintance, ma'am," Oz stammered out. "We'll travel with you to Oakhollow," Torsten responded. Then he looked at Njal. "Oz, would you mind carrying the fat little man?" "Not a problem, Tors." Njal tossed the unconscious man over a shoulder like he was a sack of onions. It was no difficulty for the man to carry the smaller man than it would for a horse to carry anyone. "We are all from Norgard. We have been travelling for several weeks to get here. I guess you could see we are on something of a wanderlust; adventure seekers." Torsten was concerned that maybe he said too much already. Not everyone has nice thoughts about Norgardian. "So who exactly is your father? I have never heard of Burgrave Rochestor." Torsten would engage the woman in small talk as they headed through the forest in the direction of the settlement.</s> <\|message\|>Name Phyrrae sniffed at the comment, but with Mari's quick eyes she did see a small, self satisfied smile on the elf maiden's face. "I'm not sure what you're talking about." She replied, though the woman did keep her voice down all the same. "If I were to do something like that, he'd never play a game with me again." With that, Phyrrae drifted into herself as the group trekked deeper into the murky forest. Orek took the lead, at least in spirit. Po was often at the fore, his staff bumping against the ground with every two steps, though he often slowed down to make sure everyone was safe and in line. Even on the road, the forest seemed to reach out and cling to you. Phyrrae eyed the forest with suspicion, and whilst Kane didn't seem to be afraid of anything, it was clear he was alert the way he moved. "I cannaught believ we could naught even bring a mule." Sinclair said, breaking the monatany of the walk. He wasn't just complaining, as it became evident he had embroiled himself in a discussion of spoils with Orek. The Dwarf chuckled through his well groomed beard. "Last I checked, seven rings wasn't that big of a haul." He rumbled, smirking at the duelist. "Besides, as long as we find the place we can get back there easy enough to take the rest of whatever loot there is. If I were you, I'd be happy we don't have a beast here that might get spooked and run off with all of that treasure you're hoping to get your hands on." "I'm pretty sure Kane can carry quite a lot." Po remarked casually, an easy smile on his face as he walked beside them. His staff was now on the back of his shoulders with his arms up and resting on it. His skin was tanned and his arms were toned from a life of manual labor. He could likely lift quite a bit as well, but Dwarves were known for their ability to haul large loads, so despite being the second tallest, Orek could give Po a run for his money in carrying capacity. "Stupid," Phyrrae breathed. "Counting your vrikerumbles before they bear honey..." Likely a comment on the three of them assuming they would find anything. Meanwhile, Kane had actually lagged behind a few feet. The massive humanoid's shoulders were still slightly taller than the top of Mari's head, though there was a comforting aura about Kane. He had the look of a careful and loyal friend to match how fearsome of an enemy he would be. "Mari, I have a question to ask if you would honor me." The Drogator growled, his large tail scraping along the ground audibly. "Are you a powerful warrior among your kind?" He asked. "Traveling the Blackwood alone is something most humans would not do." He watched her curiously, Mari likely having seen lizards who looked the same when they were on alert for predators or prey. "What brings you here on our journey?"</s>	<\|message\|>Name The sun was still in the sky, but it had notably lowered into the west, casting light along the table as they spoke. It was clear the Elf and Gnome weren't entirely used to a stranger passing through Greybridge to seek company with them out of the blue, as the two exchanged looks when he asked if he could buy them a hot meal and a drink. Despite speculating, it was clear Calvin was up for it to a point. As if on cue, his small stomach growled audibly, causing Saskia to roll her eyes. "That's kind," Saskia remarked, eyeing Cillian for a moment. "We have been here for awhile, however." "Not too long." Calvin interjected, elbowing her. "Besides, we haven't eaten anything since we sat down. We can at least enjoy a meal from our new friend before we depart, eh?" Two elves with braids and riding leathers strode into the front door as a few laborers stalked out into the streets. The city seemed as lively as ever, with raucous conversations mixed with hushed meetings in the corner of the Iron Star. It drowned out the silence of Saskia, who shrugged her shapely shoulders after she deliberated. She seemed to lower her wariness quite a bit actually. "I guess I should relax. After all I just made a fortune and you're wanting to buy me dinner. What's not to like?" She replied, calling over two drinks for her and Calvin on Cillian's dime. She got a Banian Whiskey, one of the strongest recreational drinks menfolk had. "Though, I am curious. What makes you so enamored with the Blackwood, my friend? You do know it's a death trap. Even a bard would have a hard time finding glory in there without a touch of death. You don't even have a Knight or monster slayer to follow. Will you go in alone?" "Oh and the city is always safe?" Calvin asked. "At least the city is predictable. The Blackwood is filled with nameless things and creepy crawlies." Saskia shuddered for a moment, though her comfort returned tenfold when she got her whiskey. Calvin received and Andredian mead for a light buzz and a warm stomach to go with his meal. "Yes, tell us your end goal, friend." Calvin suggested to Cillian.</s>
<\|description\|>Name Race \| Age \| Sex Appearance Personality Background * Profession (Optional) * Class * Heritage History (Optional) Motivation Capabilities Attributes Combat [0/1] * * * Intelligence [0/1] * * * Charisma [0/1] * * * Health [0/1] * * * Faculties [0/1] * * * Agility [0/1] * * * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * * * Money For simplicity's sake, we're doing 3 types of coinage. Royals (Gold), Lordlings (Silver), and Commons (Copper). They each measure 20 of the previous coinage. 20 Lordlings makes a Royal and 20 Commons makes a Lordling. You will roll for your currency. You will roll a D10 for Royals, D20 for Lordlings, and D100 for Commons. Languages Rannic Ulfsson Human (Thaegar) \| 27 \| Male Appearance Rannic stands at an impressive height (6'3), with a powerful physique and callused hands made for combat. His mane of hair is as brown as a wild oak, his eyes as green as leaves. He's not unhandsome and generally sports a robust beard, had he not shaven once he entered the Blackwood. His adventures in the Northern Marches had destroyed much of his ancestral armor, so he now wears what banded plate and leather he can to maintain protection. With large hands, long legs, and broad shoulders, he makes an imposing figure to face down in combat. Personality Rannic is honorable and blunt, though he has a streak of free spirit from having been separated from his home for the last four years. Though he can be a bit gruff, he's earnest enough and tends to keep his word. As with most Thaegars, you'll find him a terrible enemy or a loyal friend given enough time to make his aquaintence. He values nothing more than to be implemented back into Thaegar society, though he's become comfortable with his lot in life. Gold and glory are fine companions for the young man, but it will take more than that for him to forget his father's word or his oath to his the thane. Background * Professional Soldier (Optional) * Lower Class * Son of the Blacksmith and Basket Weaver History (Optional) Motivation Rannic seeks to slay a Dragon or Giant, and to return either head to his clan for recompense of his previous crimes. Capabilities Attributes Combat [1/1] * Two Handed Sword [2] * Unarmed [1] * Two Handed Blunt [1] * Two Handed Cleave [1] Intelligence [1/1] * Legendry [1] * History [1] * Charisma [1/1] * * * Health [1/1] * Strength [2] * Constitution [1] * Toughness [1] * Stamina [1] Faculties [1/1] * Resolve [1] * Perception [1] * Agility [1/1] * Running [1] * Outdoors [1] * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * * * Money 3 Royals, 7 Lordlings, 20 Commons Languages Drimgoth, Northern Tongue</s> <\|message\|>Cillian Kindellan For a moment, Cillian held his breath. His offer seemed to hang in the air, fragile, and as the unusual pair glanced at each other, he did not know which way their decision would fall. He had spent much of his life rubbing shoulders with strangers, and he had always found an ease in forming brief, fleeting moments of companionship, but even so, the air seemed to crackle with anticipation. Not for the first time, it was the small frame of Calvin that came to the wandering bards aid. Cillian's face broke into a wide grin as he watched the elf-maidens shoulders shrug. For the next brief moment at least, Cillian would have company, and most importantly, a potential audience. As Saskia called for a drink, Cillian followed her lead, signalling not only a mead for himself, but also three hot meals. Calvin had made it clear that he wouldn't turn down some food, and if the elf wasn't hungry, then Cillian's growling stomach would certainly be willing to pick up the slack. He listened intently as the pair continued to bicker, his face not showing any sign of the thoughts whirling through his mind. The clear dislike of the Blackwood in Saskia's voice may go some way to crushing his initial ideas of creating an unusual travelling party, but that same bile in her words suggested that he was right when he suspected that she knew more about what lurked in the shadows than she might have already told him. The sun was dipping towards the horizon as they continued to talk, but Cillian had already conceded himself to the fact that his long dreamed about voyage into the calling darkness would have to wait at least until dawn. If he had to spend an evening in this strange city, then he could think of worse places than in a bustling tavern! A lull in the conversation alerted the bard to the fact that his input was required, and the thread tugged him back to the moment. Two expectant faces were looking at him from across the table, but Cillian's smile did not falter. A lifetime of a wandering mind had instilled in Cillian the ability to have his ears act almost independently, and it took only a moment for the thread to remind him of the question that had been levelled at him. Cillian's relaxed smile broke into a wide grin, and he felt the fire in his heart begin to burn brighter again. The tavern was beginning to fill as the evening drew in, and Cillian was careful to raise his voice a little, both to be heard above the bustling noise, but also with the intention that if there was curious ears nearby, they would be able to hear his words. "Why am I drawn to the Blackwood? For the same reason that the baby bird leaps from it's nest. It is in my blood. All of my life, I knew that my path would lead me here, that I would travel across the river and into the heart of darkness itself. Will I go in alone? I admit, I do not yet know. The Blackwood has haunted my dreams, it's call like that of a siren, but those dreams only show my path, they do not show whether I walk alone, or with other's at my side. Perhaps before this night is out I will have a companion, perhaps there are comrades waiting for me across the river, or perhaps I am destined to travel into the darkness alone. For now though, I am happy to eat, drink and be merry, for only the gods know what the new day will bring!" A tankard of mead had arrived at Cillian's elbow, and he was quick to grab it, raising it across the table towards the unlikely pair. His smile was wide and warm, his eyes flashing in the firelight that lit the tavern. "To your good health, friends, and to being merry!" Pay careful attention to the reactions of Saskia and Calvin, as well as the rest of the tavern, at his mention of companions, to see if he can gauge any interested parties (Perception) = 4 + 1 = 5</s> <\|message\|>Name Leder seemed a bit too preoccupied with hammering the poster for him to answer the Skayleigh right away. BANG BANG BANG it sounded. Not very loud to a man, but to the sensitive ears of the Skayleigh it was like the gongs of a great bell. Though when Leder got a good look at the grumpy giant-kin he stared for a moment, not afraid but obviously curious at the nature of this strange, long limbed newcomer. "You hungry, mister? Miss Richardson can probably make you some pork sausage and eggs." He offered, pointed behind him with the hammer. His eyes then fell on the food the Skayleigh had already half devoured. "Oh, wait yeah I brought you some breakfast already. Sorry I take things to a lot of people. Miss Richardson says I'm the best helper in the village and I don't want to let her down. She also pays me in apples!" At the Skayleigh's question, Leder thought for a moment. The sun in the sky brought in a good bit of warmth into the barn, and Leder's blonde hair seemed to shine brightly in the light. "I think you just go do it, sir. I'm not sure you'll need to accept anything. But the men on there are Gregory and Hamond Garder. They're too brothers who go and check the roads every now and then every week. I think they just didn't come back this time. Not sure what happened." It was clear the kid didn't know too much, but he did continue. "I think you go to the center building at the middle of town. Mr. Falsted is the mayor. He's the guy to ask. You just go down the road past the inn and turn left and you can't miss it. There's a big statue at the center of town of the great hero, Dragonsbane!"</s> <\|message\|>Name 2/8, the branch hits the Gundarog The Gundarog had loped in her direction haphazardly like a frightened, unagile ape. A credit to its race, it still would have been hard to spot by human eyes once it left the brief glimpse of sunlight. No wonder these creatures of the underworld had found a safehaven in a forest like the Blackwood. However, the thing was certainly not expecting to find a Dorcha even in the forest of shadows. It nearly tumbled over the ground before catching itself, and once its eyes fell on Aeryn, it quelled at the very sudden new threat before it. That was, until the branch hit its head and knocked it out. Meanwhile, the massive Wolf was sniffing the ground a bit as it chewed on its second meal. It seemed to have gotten a hold of its impulses for food, pawing at the ground as it finished what flesh was in its mouth. Already it had dug through the shoddy armor of the Gundarog it had killed, its entire torso and head now within the beast's gullet. Suddenly, behind the thing, two wolf pups slunk out of the brush. They were clearly very young, even though they were nearly the size of your average guard dog. One bounded into view while the other moved mischievously, eyeing the forest around it for anything curious. What was left of the first Gundarog, they began to nip and pick at, clearly wishing for a different kind of meat but not about to complain when they're filling their bellies. Aeryn had the opportunity to check the Gundarog's pockets and knapsack as it lay there, out cold. If she wished she could kill it, or she could awaken it or take it with her. While she deliberated, she would pick up another sound from her sensitive ears. A voice, obviously male and pleasant to the ear somewhere behind her. Not very close, within a mile at least and drawing closer in a fashion. Clearly walking toward past their location, but would they come close enough to attract the wolves? At the current moment, the mother wolf was too preoccupied with her whining pups, the soft grunts and whistles they made causing her to perk her lupin ears as she licked them. Decisions, decisions...</s>	<\|message\|>Name Alyana had a dazzling smile, letting the three men introduce themselves in their fashion and giving them a personal greeting each time. She shook hands with whoever allowed it and patted Oz on the shoulder, clearly enjoying his shyness. From what little she said, she seemed a well traveled woman. She would have had to be, being out in the middle of the Blackwood with naught but a crazed merchant for company. The women straightened her belt, as it was laden with traveling items like a seax and sacks of food and maybe even coin, and she began to walk with the men. "Norgardians? You're far from your homeland." She remarked, leading them southwest. Or was it northeast? No, they came from the north. Even now the Blackwood seemed to swallow up any sense of direction, much like some of the more enchanted forests in Torsten's homeland where village elders warned naughty children to keep in bed at night or something from within would sneak into any norgardian village and snatch them away. In fact, the three warriors might have passed through such forests in the north, and yet this one seemed even dimmer in hope than those beast infested places. "Then again, I suppose Andred is the next region south unless you count the marches Bania claims as its own." She had a peculiar accent that Torsten might need to think on, as it was subtle and not Andredian in its inflection. She smirked once Oz lifted up the merchant, though she seemed impressed with the big man's strength. "Sorry about him." She said earnestly, and then perked up once Torsten asked about her father. Alyana chuckled. "Oh, I don't expect you to have heard of him. He's a merchant, though thankfully not like this one. I just figured you Norgardians introduced yourselves by stating who your father was. Maybe I am stereotyping." Despite the gloom of the forest, the next few miles weren't dangerous to the four travelers and their fat man baggage. They made good time, and before the hour was up the forest began to thin for a short few paces before it disappeared entirely, and they found themselves at the edge of a vast clearing. Not large enough to be called' grasslands,' it was a very, very vast field. At the center of it was something Torsten likely had no seen before. The hollowed stump of a tree, the tree in question being large enough to hold a village of giants, or in this case, a sizeable town of humans. The entrance was a carved archway, and was well lit in the fading sun. If it weren't for the lights and the guardsmen standing before the entrance, it would have seen like an abandoned carcass of an old world wonder. As it was, they saw people walking into the entrance just as they crested the line of trees. "Oakhallow." Alyana said simply. "I hope you boys have some money, or you'll be sleeping under the stars tonight. Unless you find the forest more accommodating."</s>
<\|description\|>Name Race \| Age \| Sex Appearance Personality Background * Profession (Optional) * Class * Heritage History (Optional) Motivation Capabilities Attributes Combat [0/1] * * * Intelligence [0/1] * * * Charisma [0/1] * * * Health [0/1] * * * Faculties [0/1] * * * Agility [0/1] * * * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * * * Money For simplicity's sake, we're doing 3 types of coinage. Royals (Gold), Lordlings (Silver), and Commons (Copper). They each measure 20 of the previous coinage. 20 Lordlings makes a Royal and 20 Commons makes a Lordling. You will roll for your currency. You will roll a D10 for Royals, D20 for Lordlings, and D100 for Commons. Languages Rannic Ulfsson Human (Thaegar) \| 27 \| Male Appearance Rannic stands at an impressive height (6'3), with a powerful physique and callused hands made for combat. His mane of hair is as brown as a wild oak, his eyes as green as leaves. He's not unhandsome and generally sports a robust beard, had he not shaven once he entered the Blackwood. His adventures in the Northern Marches had destroyed much of his ancestral armor, so he now wears what banded plate and leather he can to maintain protection. With large hands, long legs, and broad shoulders, he makes an imposing figure to face down in combat. Personality Rannic is honorable and blunt, though he has a streak of free spirit from having been separated from his home for the last four years. Though he can be a bit gruff, he's earnest enough and tends to keep his word. As with most Thaegars, you'll find him a terrible enemy or a loyal friend given enough time to make his aquaintence. He values nothing more than to be implemented back into Thaegar society, though he's become comfortable with his lot in life. Gold and glory are fine companions for the young man, but it will take more than that for him to forget his father's word or his oath to his the thane. Background * Professional Soldier (Optional) * Lower Class * Son of the Blacksmith and Basket Weaver History (Optional) Motivation Rannic seeks to slay a Dragon or Giant, and to return either head to his clan for recompense of his previous crimes. Capabilities Attributes Combat [1/1] * Two Handed Sword [2] * Unarmed [1] * Two Handed Blunt [1] * Two Handed Cleave [1] Intelligence [1/1] * Legendry [1] * History [1] * Charisma [1/1] * * * Health [1/1] * Strength [2] * Constitution [1] * Toughness [1] * Stamina [1] Faculties [1/1] * Resolve [1] * Perception [1] * Agility [1/1] * Running [1] * Outdoors [1] * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * * * Money 3 Royals, 7 Lordlings, 20 Commons Languages Drimgoth, Northern Tongue</s> <\|message\|>Name Alyana had a dazzling smile, letting the three men introduce themselves in their fashion and giving them a personal greeting each time. She shook hands with whoever allowed it and patted Oz on the shoulder, clearly enjoying his shyness. From what little she said, she seemed a well traveled woman. She would have had to be, being out in the middle of the Blackwood with naught but a crazed merchant for company. The women straightened her belt, as it was laden with traveling items like a seax and sacks of food and maybe even coin, and she began to walk with the men. "Norgardians? You're far from your homeland." She remarked, leading them southwest. Or was it northeast? No, they came from the north. Even now the Blackwood seemed to swallow up any sense of direction, much like some of the more enchanted forests in Torsten's homeland where village elders warned naughty children to keep in bed at night or something from within would sneak into any norgardian village and snatch them away. In fact, the three warriors might have passed through such forests in the north, and yet this one seemed even dimmer in hope than those beast infested places. "Then again, I suppose Andred is the next region south unless you count the marches Bania claims as its own." She had a peculiar accent that Torsten might need to think on, as it was subtle and not Andredian in its inflection. She smirked once Oz lifted up the merchant, though she seemed impressed with the big man's strength. "Sorry about him." She said earnestly, and then perked up once Torsten asked about her father. Alyana chuckled. "Oh, I don't expect you to have heard of him. He's a merchant, though thankfully not like this one. I just figured you Norgardians introduced yourselves by stating who your father was. Maybe I am stereotyping." Despite the gloom of the forest, the next few miles weren't dangerous to the four travelers and their fat man baggage. They made good time, and before the hour was up the forest began to thin for a short few paces before it disappeared entirely, and they found themselves at the edge of a vast clearing. Not large enough to be called' grasslands,' it was a very, very vast field. At the center of it was something Torsten likely had no seen before. The hollowed stump of a tree, the tree in question being large enough to hold a village of giants, or in this case, a sizeable town of humans. The entrance was a carved archway, and was well lit in the fading sun. If it weren't for the lights and the guardsmen standing before the entrance, it would have seen like an abandoned carcass of an old world wonder. As it was, they saw people walking into the entrance just as they crested the line of trees. "Oakhallow." Alyana said simply. "I hope you boys have some money, or you'll be sleeping under the stars tonight. Unless you find the forest more accommodating."</s> <\|message\|>Torsten Meier There was something like Alanya that piqued Torsten's interest. She oozed a certain charismatic flair that instantly made her a friend to their trio. He forgot about how or why she was with them. Seeing the lump of flesh on Oz' shoulder did remind him occasionally during their walk. "Yes, we are definitely Norgardians and we are definitely far from home." Torsten felt no problem with allowing Alanya know where their homeland was. "We've traveled extensively on the sea, but occasionally find the opportunity to travel over land. It appears we are in that situation now." Torsten looked at Wolf, "what direction?" Wolf looked up and at the rocks and trees. "South?" the man responded. "We are definitely traveling southwest," Torsten offered. "South is close to Southwest," Wolf defended his response. "You're right, my brother. The trail does arc back to the south on occasion too." Torsten listened to Alanya as they walked along the path. Her accent was one he was familiar with. He had heard it before on one of his voyages, but just couldn't place it. Maybe if he thought about it for a while longer, it would come to him. "Where are you from, Alanya?" Maybe it was her speech patterns, voice inflection, her looks, or chemistry. He found himself slowly being attracted to the woman. He did not understand the feeling. In fact, he pushed himself away in his mind, refusing to admit the feeling to himself. He didn't have time for such frivolity. "Pardon me, my father was a hunter and a tracker like me. We excelled in finding people or game and bringing food from the forest back into the village." Torsten considered what she said. "That custom is true with some villages, but not all," Torsten smiled at her. It took Torsten time to process what he was looking at when they finally cleared the forest. "You know, at firt glance, that looks like the stump of a tree felled years ago, but it can't be. It circles a town. Is that Oakhollow?" Torsten then thought about the name of the town and realized yes! The tree was an Oak and now it is hollow. Oz laughed a hearty laugh, with the fat man bouncing on his shoulder as he laughed. "Oak Hollow!" The big man bellowed out a huge laugh. The party approached the archway in the side of the tree trunk or town. The group was impressed with the etchings, carvings in the wood. "Beautiful," Wolf allowed in a low tone, commenting on the size and design of the town's exterior. "Hopefully, the fee for a room isn't too expensive. We should be able to cover it." Torsten smiled at Alanya. "Thanks for leading us here. It has been quite some time since we have seen civilization." Torsten paused and remembered the fat man. "Oh!? Where do you want this one?"</s> <\|message\|>Arden "The best helper in the village ?" Arden asked, an honest smile already appearing on his face. "You could be damn right about that!" This young boy, after all, actually had been the first one to welcome him with true friendlyness and curiosity instead of anything more stonewalling or outright prejudicative -- or at least these aspects had been part of the Skayleigh's first impression of the owners of this place. He was glad to have a reason to leave it now. So the two persons in question were brothers and indeed they seemed to be missing. If Arden was honest this wasn't a good sign for brothers had a tendency to take much greater care of each other and to go ahead with a better plan and more significant motivation than individuals who had been randomly assigned to a certain task. His feeling told him that something very serious, if not outright nasty, must have happened, but of course he needed to investigate. Not without weapons and armor though, that was for sure by now! "Thank you, Leder!" The village had a mayor ? Ah yes, the ubiquitous urge to build up hierarchy. It wasn't like his own people would have been spared from such by nature, but still the fact had come in as a little surprise for the place really didn't seem to be that big and, at least for the Skayleigh, 'mayor' had always sounded like it involved something larger. Anyway, if a certain Mr. Falsted was the one in charge here and also the one potentially holding some more information that was the guy to go to. Arden turned around and back towards the haystack in order to pick up his posessions, then hit the road. Before turning around the corner and thus getting out of Leder's sight, he twisted his head around briefly and looked back at the young boy. He tried to memorize his face and appearance, just in case he'd need to find Leder again. A few minutes later, the half-giant stood in front of yet another door too small and with the statue of Dragonsbane in view behind him. Hopefully Mr. Falsted was not some remote relative tied into Mrs. Richardson's family tree somehow, otherwise this was an endeavour doomed from the start! Carefully, Arden knocked at the wooden door. 1x d8 = 4</s>	<\|message\|>Name "Rán," he rumbled. The reverberations in his throat were somewhat palpable even though Mari was a few feet away. She would feel that Kane could roar or yell extremely loud if he truly felt like it, which put his booming voice earlier into perspective. That was his normal voice. "Yes, I know of the Sea Goddess. It was said her daughters had become a fallen order, but I hear many things in travel. Orek would likely know all about the Goddess. He knows how to...erm...'cut through the bullshit.'" Kane reiterated almost mechanically. As the companions up front spoke and walked, Mari's keen eyes would gaze about the strange forest. Even so close to the settlement, the trees seemed unnaturally dark, and even the sunlight seemed slightly dim on the open road. It would be all too easy for an enemy or even wildlife to be lurking within the brush, but as she gazed around she saw little sign of anything dangerous. Instead she saw another path, well worn and made by both men and animals it looked. Far into the treeline it delved until it went over a small, leaf covered crest into the greater wilderness. But nothing else had occurred thus far. No one had either noticed it or felt it was of any consequence. "Well, I think you are well on your way to becoming a fine warrior, as you seem to have survived much." Kane continued. There was a small crack behind them, but it was only a branch his tail had crushed with its bulk. "I do look forward to truly seeing your skill in battle. Maybe you can duel one of us tonight for a wager of honor? After we eat, that is..." "Don't start thinkin' of food already. We still've a ways tae go!" Orek called back to him after catching wind of Kane's only mildly loud voice.</s>
<\|description\|>Kyiriniae'aea High Elf \| 301 \| Female Appearance Tall lithe and Blonde with eyes of striking blue, Kyra is the very picture of a highborn elf maiden. Her sorceress powers lead her to neglect her physique somewhat so she isn't as well muscled as many of her kindred. Though her features are elegant she lacks the sharp edges which give some elves a haughty and ethereal beauty Personality Upon first appearence, Kyra (as she calls herself to avoid terrible attempts at pronouncing her name) presents herself as friendly and easy going. She seems to embody the positive traits of her kind, appearing friendly, wise, giving and benevolent while working hard to mitigate the natural haugtiness of the long lived and most civilized of races. All of this is a pose. As an elven maiden of a hundred summers Kyra accepted a dare from some of her fellow elves to gaze into the waters of a forbidden spring. In the rippling waters she beheld the image of Volduressë the outcast Goddess of the Dark Elves. The Banished Queen showed her the strands of the future and the pain and suffering she would endure throughout her long life if she persisted on her current path. She also showed Kyra a glimpse of what she might become, the power she might wield if she gave herself over to the worship of the Elven Goddess. Kyra agreed and returned to her people, outwardly unchanged and laughing the experience off as nothing more than another legend without any basis in fact. Inside however she was forever changed. Her heart became calculating and cruel, after the fashion of her new Mistress she began to long for chaos and destruction, forsaking the path of light and civilization to follow the dark impulses that her kin had spent so long in suppressing. Background * Woods Witch * Sorceress * Heritage History Kyra has left the silver cities of her people and walked among the lands of men, spreading discord and strife wherever she goes but always with the craft and patience of her kind. She has come to the Black Wood at the behest of Volduressë who has communicated to her in dreams and visions that the key to the next stage of her ascension lies within... Motivation Amass power. Smite enemies. Please Volduressë. Capabilities Attributes Combat [1/1] * Intelligence [1/1] * Alchemy * Botany * Literacy * Religion Charisma [1/1] * Deception * Mongering * Seduction * Diplomacy Health [1/1] * * * Faculties [1/1] * Concentration * Willpower Agility [1/1] * Mysticism [3/3] * Sorceress - Weaver --- Equipment * Sword * Idol of Volduressë * Alchemical Equipment Money 7 Royals 17 Lordlings 21 Commons Languages Elven Northern Bewitch: With a wiggle of your fingers and a few choice words, you can alter someone's outlook unless they are particularly strong willed. Dazzling Eyes: When you meet eyes with someone you can choose to cast this spell. Like a spark, it'll set men's (or women's if they are so inclined) hearts racing and sear you into their memory. Beguiling lips: Your most powerful enchantment. A thorough kiss and they will be under your spell for a limited time. Polymorph: You can turn any man-sized creature or smaller into a sheep, goose, duck, etc. Can only be cast once per post. Warpbolt: You pull magic from the Fey realm to bend reality and send a fairly dangerous missile of chaos at a foe. Shocking Jolt: When you grab or strike someone, you can send 200 volts into their body. More damaging if you use both hands. Glide or Blink: You can choose between letting your character glide on command for a short length of time, or letting them disappear and appear elsewhere within 20 feet or so. Your choice. Parlor Tricks: You can snap and make a small flame appear, make sparkles on your hands, pull a card out of your sleeve, make your voice louder, anything that is relatively minor and fairly harmless.</s> <\|message\|>Emilio Virtoli Diplomacy = 8 + 3 = 11 The Dre Costan showed no signs of tiring from the boy's repetitive questions. All the more he seemed just as excited and lively. "Ah, but where there are towns there are people. Where there are people, my services shall always be required. Setting disputes, evaluating valuables, and moving about the general necessities of the world." Emilio spoke with elegance outwardly to the child, as if he had prepared this spiel his entire life. "Oh, and of course my friend here." He'd gesture with flair to Wēlanandaz. "Monsters mean armor and weapons are in great demand yes? Well what finer is there than expert Dwarvern make?" The question was exclaimed proudly and entirely rhetorical, though he'd move on before the child could comment on it. "I am certain one way or another it shall be an exciting and prosperous venture. You yourself found this to be your own service after all. I am certain you have heard much and more of the Blackwood. It would make me most grateful if you could tell us some more of what to expect. Anything you've heard of the locals, the closest towns or villages. Any and all is appreciated." An eye would look from the man to the shore as they made a turn towards it. A seemingly entire lackluster and lone spot. "Ah, and directions. Truly you would wish for us to make it safely yes? After we have made our fortunes here we would remember those that labored along the way." Emilio would add on with a cheery smile and tone. All but antithetical to the rowing man's silence. "Of course I'd hope the same to be true of myself. Should I find any weary souls who wish to turn their way back for an honest fee, I would all the more direct them to the one who had the same guided safely our own passage. I'd need a name of course for such a man and I would not ask without bestowing my own. Emilio Virtoli, merchant, as you already well know." A seated half bow was added on, not wishing to rock the boat overly much as they were soon to be pulling onto land.</s> <\|message\|>Mari Screaming was the last thing Mari intended to do. She'd allowed herself to be ambushed, distracted as she was by the wyvern's arrival, which she'd only narrowly avoided by luck, but now her instinct was to fight rather than let fear rule. She reached for one of her daggers, but a strong hand caught her wrist. The voice behind her promised her no harm. It took a few seconds, but finally Mari relaxed her muscles and slowed her breathing, the woman letting her go as soon as she did. If she'd wanted to kill Mari, she had a perfect chance already, and hadn't used it. That was good enough. Mari cautiously checked to make sure the wyvern was still occupied with the ogre, then turned about. Ithaca, she introduced herself as. A Praelian name if she'd ever heard one, with a look to match. Taller than Mari, and well armed and armored. What she promised sounded like a much needed bit of good luck. "Lead the way," she instructed, eager to put the gulley and the wyvern well behind her. Only when the sounds of the creature feasting on the ogre's corpse had disappeared did she venture her own introduction. "I'm Mari, of the Sea of Swords. What's this town we're headed to?"</s> <\|message\|>Name "Oi! Get the fuck out'o the way!" A cry sprang up from behind them. Similar cries rose and created a cacophony of sounds from those behind, clearly unamused that the two made it to the front of the line to negotiate rather than pay immediately and give someone else a chance. For the notary's part, he blinked at the strange bedraggled girl and her foreign companion. It was understandable why, as Greybridge was an Andredian settlement and she was clearly Vrettonian, and her story was vague, what's more. However, it also could have some plausibility, as many mercenary companies from either country was bought by the other to confuse the their enemy during their frequent wars. It almost looked like the man in the extravagant hat was going to deny them, but at the yelling from the crowd to get a move on, he seemed to acquiesce after another moment's thought. "Very well, to your great service blah blah yes, only 5 Lordlings." He whispered to them harshly. "From both of you." Once paid, he would raise his head and wave about a crop-like crudgle. The four halberdiers in the center rose their weapons automatically as if they were Dwarf-made machines powered by steam. Behind him lay Greybridge, the gothic agate jewel of the north. Even during the day, the city had an ominous, dramatic quality to its architecture. Some compared the looming and thatched two or three-story buildings that flooded the city to one of the haunted cities found in Henry Forthwright's melodramas. Leering gargoyles could be found atop a few buildings in the distance, though what lay around them was a small marketplace in the center of a widened three way street. They would be practically shoved inside, and once within it was like a jungle of buildings surrounded by a throng of Greybridge citizens that went about their daily business. You have some flexibility on what you would like to do. You could roll to find a shop or someone to speak to with a faculties (perception) roll, or you could be creative and do something unexpected. Ask away if you have any questions. @Duck --- Ithaca had begun to lead her northwards, through numerous thickets of dark trees until they finally stumbled upon a well trodden path. It seemed to go east and westwards, though it likely snaked back around to where she had been at the mouth of the gulley. A great brown horse stood tethered to a tree, proud and powerful with a well groomed black mane. It snickered when it saw Ithaca, clearly happy to see her once again. "Geiá sou diké mou Bucephalus." She whispered to the steed, untying the reins from the tree, just as glad to see the horse as well. She made it look all too easy to mount the steed, holding a hand out for Mari to take. "The Sea of Swords?" She asked, hoisting Mari up to sit just behind her. Ithaca let Mari sling her shield around herself and sheath her sword before she had Bucephalus begin at a trot. "You must have traveled through the borderlands to get here. Durgony yes?" They made their way deeper into the forest path, letting the sun pass into tangled shadow beneath the canopy above. The trees were somehow both healthy yet gnarled by some unseen grimness, though the sounds of the birds around them showed no evil was yet near, if there was any at all. "It's Rittenvos, of the people of Eisenland." Ithaca explained, glancing back at Mari for a moment. "You chose a strange road to come here, though I suppose it is the most direct road. I like that. Nothing reaches the heart of an Orc like a straight thrust through the chest. But yes, Rittenvos. It has the largest inn near the southern border, and plenty of tradesmen. I won't ask you much on your quest, for no one would travel like you unless they had an important errand. But you very well could find what you are seeking there." The road warden spoke with a certain surety that would strengthen the heart of anyone hearing it. But it was not to last, for a moment later a most dreadful sound erupted from the skies above. It was so brutally loud that it was not so apparent what made the leaves upon the branches shake until Ithaca and Mari's senses had regained their faculties. It was a roar so terrifying and powerful it shook one's very bones. Among the sudden calamity Bucephalus whinnied, the dauntless horse bucking briefly in abject surprise and fear. "Dragon!" Ithaca gasped, doing her best to rein Bucephalus before the horse threw them off, calming within moments due to its training and Ithaca's prompting. Mari would have to cling to the warden so as not to fall off, and once the three had halted in the forest path, there was another terrible roar, albeit further away.</s> <\|message\|>Name A Gundarog hissed in fear and hatred, recoiling from her sudden appearance. It grabbed a wickedly barbed spear on instinct, but its companions had yet to attack, so in awe were they at the unexpected and immediate introduction from the strange sorceress. It seemed an undecided thing on what they would do until two of them abased themselves before Kyiriniae'aea, obviously too afraid to speculate. The other two were less decided for a few brief moments, and the one that had grabbed the weapon seemed on the brink of throwing his spear or running. However, it soon dropped its weapon and joined its fellows, just as the third did. The Gundarog that had held the baby heard her demands, jitteringly rising, looking at her and trying to speak in its broken northern. "B-Bright Lady? Yes! Yes, Bright Lady we..." It sibilated, unused to speak of the thing they dared not walk under. "The s-s-sun does not touch here, Bright Lady. The shadow of Lord Gorthaur has been cast upon this forest, gnash its wooden bones! Claw it! Bite it! Burn the villages into nothing!" It erupted into a brief, psychotic cackled until it realized it was (likely) speaking to someone who could obliterate it with a look. It took two steps toward her, moving like some broken misshapen thing. It very well could have been. Many Gundarogs had warts and humps that made their movements queer but did not diminish their effectiveness in killing. No wonder its voice sounded like verbal depression and bloated malice. "The Blackwood is forever changed, yes. Long ago when Gorthaur had first arrived, he brought the realm of shadow with him. Now shadow lingers until the unmaking the world..." "What does the Bright Lady command!?" One of the bowed ones cried out, shrill in pitch. "We can shows you to villages! To towers! Yes, yes Ladies love towers?"</s>	<\|message\|>Kyiriniae'aea Kyiriniae'aea relaxed ever so slightly as it became obvious that her deception had been an effective one. These creatures might be repellent but they were obviously familiar with the Blackwood which meant she could make use of them. She might not have chosen Gundarogs as allies, but they certainly had their uses... provided of course they were properly subservient. "Yes, we shall begin with these towers," she agreed magnanimously. That sounded like just the kind of shelter she would need if she didn't want to risk having her throat cut everytime she needed to take a nap. "We shall leave as soon as you have eaten," she told her new minions. "I shall keep the human whelp for my own supper but...." she trailed off and then made a snapping gesture with her hand. A bolt of magical energy snapped from her finger and struck the Gundarog who had been slowest to accept her assumed authority square in the chest, dropping him to the ground with a sizzling pop. "I see no reason you should make the journey on an empty stomach..."</s>
<\|description\|>Kyiriniae'aea High Elf \| 301 \| Female Appearance Tall lithe and Blonde with eyes of striking blue, Kyra is the very picture of a highborn elf maiden. Her sorceress powers lead her to neglect her physique somewhat so she isn't as well muscled as many of her kindred. Though her features are elegant she lacks the sharp edges which give some elves a haughty and ethereal beauty Personality Upon first appearence, Kyra (as she calls herself to avoid terrible attempts at pronouncing her name) presents herself as friendly and easy going. She seems to embody the positive traits of her kind, appearing friendly, wise, giving and benevolent while working hard to mitigate the natural haugtiness of the long lived and most civilized of races. All of this is a pose. As an elven maiden of a hundred summers Kyra accepted a dare from some of her fellow elves to gaze into the waters of a forbidden spring. In the rippling waters she beheld the image of Volduressë the outcast Goddess of the Dark Elves. The Banished Queen showed her the strands of the future and the pain and suffering she would endure throughout her long life if she persisted on her current path. She also showed Kyra a glimpse of what she might become, the power she might wield if she gave herself over to the worship of the Elven Goddess. Kyra agreed and returned to her people, outwardly unchanged and laughing the experience off as nothing more than another legend without any basis in fact. Inside however she was forever changed. Her heart became calculating and cruel, after the fashion of her new Mistress she began to long for chaos and destruction, forsaking the path of light and civilization to follow the dark impulses that her kin had spent so long in suppressing. Background * Woods Witch * Sorceress * Heritage History Kyra has left the silver cities of her people and walked among the lands of men, spreading discord and strife wherever she goes but always with the craft and patience of her kind. She has come to the Black Wood at the behest of Volduressë who has communicated to her in dreams and visions that the key to the next stage of her ascension lies within... Motivation Amass power. Smite enemies. Please Volduressë. Capabilities Attributes Combat [1/1] * Intelligence [1/1] * Alchemy * Botany * Literacy * Religion Charisma [1/1] * Deception * Mongering * Seduction * Diplomacy Health [1/1] * * * Faculties [1/1] * Concentration * Willpower Agility [1/1] * Mysticism [3/3] * Sorceress - Weaver --- Equipment * Sword * Idol of Volduressë * Alchemical Equipment Money 7 Royals 17 Lordlings 21 Commons Languages Elven Northern Bewitch: With a wiggle of your fingers and a few choice words, you can alter someone's outlook unless they are particularly strong willed. Dazzling Eyes: When you meet eyes with someone you can choose to cast this spell. Like a spark, it'll set men's (or women's if they are so inclined) hearts racing and sear you into their memory. Beguiling lips: Your most powerful enchantment. A thorough kiss and they will be under your spell for a limited time. Polymorph: You can turn any man-sized creature or smaller into a sheep, goose, duck, etc. Can only be cast once per post. Warpbolt: You pull magic from the Fey realm to bend reality and send a fairly dangerous missile of chaos at a foe. Shocking Jolt: When you grab or strike someone, you can send 200 volts into their body. More damaging if you use both hands. Glide or Blink: You can choose between letting your character glide on command for a short length of time, or letting them disappear and appear elsewhere within 20 feet or so. Your choice. Parlor Tricks: You can snap and make a small flame appear, make sparkles on your hands, pull a card out of your sleeve, make your voice louder, anything that is relatively minor and fairly harmless.</s> <\|message\|>Kyiriniae'aea Kyiriniae'aea surveyed the tower with approval, there was much to do to make it a truly acceptable dwelling place, but her minds eye was already hard at work, picturing a fire, carpets and proper illumination. There would need to be some provision for defense of course, the presence of the gundarogs attested to that, but there would be time for that, and she had an inkling of how to go about it. First though she needed to take a thorough inventory of her newfound lair. What had happened to the previous occupant? It seemed unlikely given the disarray of the library that they would return. Well if they did she would deal with that as she always did. There was the human child to deal with as well which was irritating but necessary if she was to persist in this place, it represented to great an opportunity for her simply to kill the creature or let it be eaten. It was unwise to leave her new found minions alone for too long, there was another task she needed them for before she dismissed them, but the lure of the strange and obviously magical items was too much to resist. She approached the archway first, given its prominence and possible function as a potential ingress to her new home. Circling it she ran her fingers over the stones, attempting to gain some sort of insight into its function, but merely physical interaction did not seem to be enough. Stretching out a thin finger she crouched down and touched the bottom of the arch, drawing the pad of the digit up the stone in a long rainbow like curve, following the arch and reaching out with her magical faculties... Activating the arch = 8 (5+3)</s> <\|message\|>Emilio Virtoli Intuition = 4 + 1 = 5 "I could ask nothing else of you fine duo, and I must give thanks to what words you have offered." Emilio would make for a bow as he stepped onto land. Checking on his donkey he'd make sure the cart was on firm ground before looking over it as well mindful of the rocking of the boat had knocked anything loose. An apple that had loosely rolled to the bottom of the cart and bruised itself was picked up and given as a treat to his animal. A hand would follow a growing smile as he stroked his companion's face. Making sure everything was accounted for he'd gesture an offer for his dwarvern friend to board the cart. "Best for us to get moving and letting the fellows get on their own way then right Wēlanandaz?" Barely waiting for the dwarf's own answer he'd quickly move to set off down the path. There was common enough folk tale and legends of any random place being haunted and dangerous, but the merchant knew well enough that there was at least an inkling of truth to even the most baseless one. Better safe than sorry was a tried and true practice on the road and one he would not stray from now. If any oddity lay in the path ahead he'd trust his base gut feeling for the time at least. He had managed it this far after all. Deep rooted and wooded forests were not the typical locales the Dre Costan had found himself traveling through before for the most part, especially in these rougher conditions. Obviously the path had been carved and managed to some extent though not enough for their sort to be the most common travelers. The man would keep his eyes sharp and looking about as the clatter of wooden wheels against the path matched the clops of the donkey's own hooves. "Well, it'll be some hours at least until we see some sort of men again." He'd speak out, though not as verbose and energetic as on the shoreline. "I would wonder your thoughts at times like these, my otherwise stoic and stone-faced colleague." The hint of sarcasm in his voice would at least be obvious in the choice of adjectives used. @POOHEAD189</s> <\|message\|>Name When Kyiriniae'aea activated the archway with her energies, it became horribly clear not a moment later that the elven maiden should have activated the crystal ball prior, for she felt the very energy of her being sucked into what seemed an endless void of nothingness. Her very soul was stretched like a dislocated arm, and it was only mercifully pushed back within her once the archway coalesced energies borne of her magics. To say she felt drained was an understatement, though what appeared next would be far, far worse. The archway swirled with multicolored energy of pure chaos as the very structure itself sparked with eldritch, purple lightning every few moments that audibly cracked and sizzled. Though the air in the chamber was stilled, the sorceress could feel a strange ebb and flow of magic with her magesight, like kicked up dust from some explosion that served as a portent of doom. It was after five long seconds that the visitor appeared. At first, one clawed foot stepped into the material plane, for he approached. Then the next laid bare upon the stone, for he approached. A staff of blacksteel crowned with a demonskull materialized before her eyes, for he approached. Scaled skin the color of stained oak mixed with dead blood showed from his entrance, for he approached. His robes were suddenly palpable and colored purple, yet shimmered as if coated with black spider silk, for he approached. It was his face she saw last. A draconic visage, lipless and sunken like skin barely clinging to a vicious skull, with two large, sloped horns framing its snout. Upon his brow were three eyes, the center clearly made of some unknown precious gemstone. Once fully out of the portal, Kyiriniae'aea saw the thing, fully seven feet in height. If she used her magesight, she saw it was at least two long strides above her in power and knowledge, though there was no telling what it or he was. It was obvious even if she weren't so drained, she had no real chance of bewitching the thing and could likely harm it enough to make it angrier. She heard a low growl emanate from its throat, as if it were the broken engine of some Dwarven machine. "What realm is this?" It asked aloud, though she could tell it was asking itself rather than her. It's voice was three voices, or perhaps it echoed within its throat thrice, for they sounded very deep and similar. All at once, its three eyed gaze fell upon Kyiriniae'aea, scrutinizing her as if she were a squirrel that had wandered into a living room. "A fairy..." it said, referring to the archaic forms of the Elves before they were gifted larger bodies by the Gods so long ago. "Why did you call Gekir'vash'ni'k'kashnik'ash here?" Suddenly, the tension was broken when a wail rose up from neither of them, and both saw the form of the baby in the bag, shaking its fists and crying. The warlock, for it indeed had the energy signature of such a thing, tilted its head curiously. It's curiosity was likely the only thing from killing the sorceress at the current moment. "A child?" Oh FUCK! Well, you can...um, you got a lot of options. Clearly there are no easy ones. You could attempt to unsummon him, though I wouldn't try unless you're feeling really lucky. You could try to lie and bargain with what you have to save your own skin, or you could blink away though he either chases you or you lose your tower. Or you could surprise me!</s>	<\|message\|>Kyiriniae'aea Kyiriniae'aea felt her mouth go dry as the demon, awesome in its power, stepped through the portal. She had a queasy feeling that she had come within a hair's breadth of her own soul being sucked through the portal to feed the thing. For a heartbeat she considered fleeing, but it seemed unlikely that if the thing really wanted her that she was going to be able to fly far and fast enough to avoid that fate. Instead she threw herself to the ground in obeisance scrapping her knees and spreading her arms wide. "A tool mighty Gekir'vash'ni'k'kashnik'ash, a pawn to aid in my designs," she informed the demon thing in her most reverential tone. She fought against the cold sweat the prickled the back of her neck, forcing herself to remain calm and think rationally. The demon thing was the most powerful entity she had yet encountered, but power did no always equate to guile. "I have called you forth to seek knowledge which only you possess," she lied glibly. "I have prepared a sacrifice for you, two gundarogs, my most faithful servants, stand at the base of this tower, teach me of your arts o great one, and they shall be but the first souls that I lay before you taloned feet," she entreated, warming to her subject as she remained unobliterated. Carefully she risked a glance up at the creature, resolving to blink for the window if it didn't appear that this were going well. Diplomacy - 8 (6+2)</s>
<\|description\|>Kyiriniae'aea High Elf \| 301 \| Female Appearance Tall lithe and Blonde with eyes of striking blue, Kyra is the very picture of a highborn elf maiden. Her sorceress powers lead her to neglect her physique somewhat so she isn't as well muscled as many of her kindred. Though her features are elegant she lacks the sharp edges which give some elves a haughty and ethereal beauty Personality Upon first appearence, Kyra (as she calls herself to avoid terrible attempts at pronouncing her name) presents herself as friendly and easy going. She seems to embody the positive traits of her kind, appearing friendly, wise, giving and benevolent while working hard to mitigate the natural haugtiness of the long lived and most civilized of races. All of this is a pose. As an elven maiden of a hundred summers Kyra accepted a dare from some of her fellow elves to gaze into the waters of a forbidden spring. In the rippling waters she beheld the image of Volduressë the outcast Goddess of the Dark Elves. The Banished Queen showed her the strands of the future and the pain and suffering she would endure throughout her long life if she persisted on her current path. She also showed Kyra a glimpse of what she might become, the power she might wield if she gave herself over to the worship of the Elven Goddess. Kyra agreed and returned to her people, outwardly unchanged and laughing the experience off as nothing more than another legend without any basis in fact. Inside however she was forever changed. Her heart became calculating and cruel, after the fashion of her new Mistress she began to long for chaos and destruction, forsaking the path of light and civilization to follow the dark impulses that her kin had spent so long in suppressing. Background * Woods Witch * Sorceress * Heritage History Kyra has left the silver cities of her people and walked among the lands of men, spreading discord and strife wherever she goes but always with the craft and patience of her kind. She has come to the Black Wood at the behest of Volduressë who has communicated to her in dreams and visions that the key to the next stage of her ascension lies within... Motivation Amass power. Smite enemies. Please Volduressë. Capabilities Attributes Combat [1/1] * Intelligence [1/1] * Alchemy * Botany * Literacy * Religion Charisma [1/1] * Deception * Mongering * Seduction * Diplomacy Health [1/1] * * * Faculties [1/1] * Concentration * Willpower Agility [1/1] * Mysticism [3/3] * Sorceress - Weaver --- Equipment * Sword * Idol of Volduressë * Alchemical Equipment Money 7 Royals 17 Lordlings 21 Commons Languages Elven Northern Bewitch: With a wiggle of your fingers and a few choice words, you can alter someone's outlook unless they are particularly strong willed. Dazzling Eyes: When you meet eyes with someone you can choose to cast this spell. Like a spark, it'll set men's (or women's if they are so inclined) hearts racing and sear you into their memory. Beguiling lips: Your most powerful enchantment. A thorough kiss and they will be under your spell for a limited time. Polymorph: You can turn any man-sized creature or smaller into a sheep, goose, duck, etc. Can only be cast once per post. Warpbolt: You pull magic from the Fey realm to bend reality and send a fairly dangerous missile of chaos at a foe. Shocking Jolt: When you grab or strike someone, you can send 200 volts into their body. More damaging if you use both hands. Glide or Blink: You can choose between letting your character glide on command for a short length of time, or letting them disappear and appear elsewhere within 20 feet or so. Your choice. Parlor Tricks: You can snap and make a small flame appear, make sparkles on your hands, pull a card out of your sleeve, make your voice louder, anything that is relatively minor and fairly harmless.</s> <\|message\|>Name The two conversed as they began, pushing the cart uphill to help the donkey until they were set on the proper path. Once there, even the two chatty fellows would find the foliage growing more and more foreboding, almost pressing silence upon them regardless of their curiosities or efforts to keep a casual air about their travel. The donkey seemed somewhat glum (even for a donkey) but it didn't look overly agitated or fearful, which at least likely meant there was no problems with beasts so far. A large gulley lay on their right, and on their left a steep upwards incline into the swell of a hill. It rose like a wave and where it began to dip, as it was hard to tell with the trees in the way. Across the gulley and past the creek within its bed was just further trees, hiding all manner of Gods-know-what. To a couple of entrepreneurial chaps such as these, it might look like a lot of untapped resources. But the terrain was far too hilly to capitalize on it without a vast team of hired hands and a guard to keep them safe and protected if any of the stories of the Blackwood were to be believed. An hour passed by, and the donkey was guiding up yet another hill. It grunted irritably, but did its job without going lax as some stubborn donkeys were liable to do. The three just crested the hill when they found themselves on a straight path without the perils of twisting over uneven ground. The trees here were thicker, however, but that was not the most noticeable aspect. In front of them stood two large men; Knights, in fact. They were black and grey, with a marking of a skull at the center of their torso. Emilio and Wēlanandaz would see they were heavily armored in gambesons, chainmail, and bits of plate in the form of pauldrons and greaves. Their faces were hidden behind great helms given the visages of skulls at the front, and two steel horns plumed with feathers fanned out above their helmets. They held large swords, perhaps greatswords even, their blades on the ground with both hands on the hilts made of bone. Silently they stood there, saying nothing as the two fellows and their donkey came into their field of vision. Were it not for the slight tremor of their bodies from breathing, and the fact they were standing upright, it would have been difficult to tell if they were awake or even alive. Pajamas@Jb</s> <\|message\|>Mari Mari found Rittenvos to be new and exciting and yet somehow quite familiar. It was the mood of the people, she decided, that was similar to the Sea of Swords. Lots of travelers and mercenaries and merchants, people in general not tied down to any location, simply passing through in search of adventure, fortune, or their own goals. For once Mari was one of them rather than simply a local. By the time she made it to the barroom her purse was two lordlings lighter. She felt lighter too, given the layer of sweat, dirt, and grime she'd washed off, though perhaps that was also because she'd left her plate, shield, and pack in her room. Considering how many other sellswords there were here wearing armor and weapons, Mari simply changed into a fresh white tunic and dark brown leggings, and cleaned her leathers as best she could before donning them again. On her belt were her sword, daggers, coin pouch, and necklaces of Rán. She'd managed to get a decent meal to fill her belly before turning in to her room, so it was ale she sought after now, and when she had two pints in her hands she made her way over to the right side of the room, trying to catch Ithaca's attention as she approached. She seemed to be conversing with the... man? Next to her, though Mari had to admit she'd never seen any of their race before. The plate armor was certainly fine, far better than what Mari could afford. "Hope I'm not intruding," she greeted, offering the pint. "I promised the Road Warden here an ale. If not for her I'd probably be wyvern food by now."</s> <\|message\|>Torsten Meier Knowledge of the beast: 10 Torsten reflected on some of the men he fought alongside these past seven years. 'There was Sten, Bjørn, Ødger, Harald, Ulf, Njal, Arn, Toke and of course Vanhel to name a few. Sten and Bjørn were killed by Vrettonian cavalry less than a year ago. Their memories still haunted him. Ødger died of blood poisoning from a wound he suffered six months ago and Harald lost a leg; returning home. Ulf and Njal could be anywhere by now. They could even be on this path into the Blackwood. Arn and Toke were of course working a job south of the Corsair Straits. I wished them well. Then there was Vanhel. He had been walking with him along this trail, then poof! he disappeared into nowhere. Well, maybe not nowhere. He was taken in by that woman. I can't even remember her name. She was bad as far as I could tell. Not worth the time, but Vanhel felt compelled to assist her. Maybe it was me who left him. Anyway, I am on my own now.' As he meandered along the trail his hands moved over his possessions. He checked the coin purse at his waist, felt its heft and let it drop into place. He palmed over his knife, axe, sword, bow, quiver and the straps of the small pack on his back containing some food stuff. He felt secure in the contents. He avoided most of the Andredian villages with the thought in mind, it was at those locations he had the highest risk of losing something. After passing a small valley or more acutely a draw, Torsten saw two large dark trees only ten meters apart. They reminded him of the trees of home in Norgardia. He noted the trees generally grew smaller the further he walked away from home. The forest appeared to rise up in front of him; a veritable fortress of green and wood. But the two trees guarding his path beckoned him forward almost inviting him to enter. He wanted more than anything to enter as he felt he would encounter riches beyond his desires inside these woods. The closer he moved towards the two trees, he realized a large beast stood in his path. It was enormous. He had learned a lot about animals of the forest during his youth and was aware of this creature. He worried not it was a creature which would eat him, but it was one that would charge if felt threatened. Its aggression would be felt, even if Torsten attempted to approach it. 'Megarinokeros', Torsten thought to himself. 'The beast must be eleven or twelve feet in height and a good eight or nine tons in mass. I could just go around him, cut through the walls of the forest. If he sees me, he might charge. They are pretty aggressive, even if they are vegetarian. An excellent meal he would make, but it would be such a waste since I couldn't carry much of him. To attack him, it would require almost all of my arrows, then I would have to switch to my sword and even then, I just might not get him. It would be wiser to skirt through the brush to avoid him.' Although Torsten had no intention to hunt the Megarinokeros, the beast just might decide to attack him. I rolled a 5. Torsten attempts to evade combat by using Running and Balance. Roll to run is 8 and Balance roll is not as I could have hoped for 1. Just as Torsten was deciding it would be safer to avoid the Megarinokeros, or Megaboar as was commonly referred, the beast decided maybe he would not let Torsten enter the forest untested. The beast turned its hulking mass in his direction, lowered it five foot horn and trotted towards him. When it was thirty meters away, the beast increased its speed. Torsten didn't even bother drawing a weapon. He intended to dodge the beast. He knew the creature was too heavy to maneuver and relied on his prey remaining directly in front of him. Torsten had no intention of remaining in its path. When the creature was too close for comfort and accelerating, Torsten ran to the left to evade the beast. The Megaboar attempted to turn with Torsten, but could not. Torsten ran behind the beast and headed toward the woods. The creature turned about, lowered its horn and began the charge a second time. Torsten made it to the wood line, saw a low hanging branch and jumped for it, in an attempt to climb out of its path. He jumped as he drew close. His hands hit the branch, slapped it more accurately and the less than six foot frame flew past the tree, into the brush beyond. His body hit the ground and rolled away. The Megarinokeros glanced off the large oak tree and continued attempting to slow itself. Torsten felt pain in his ribs on the right side of his body where he hit a rock during his fall. He continued to roll away from the path to evade the monster. He crawled into leaves concealing his location. The large wooly boar snorted at the ground. Its massive hooves pawed at the soil turning it over which each stomp. Torsten waited. Eventually, the beast grew impatient and walked away from the two trees in the trail. Torsten Maier felt it was as good a time as any to stand and check himself out. When he moved up onto his knees he detected a pain on his right side. It was sharp, breath-halting and would make the next few weeks a bit harder than he anticipated. He checked his belongs, made sure everything was still there. He looked back at where the boar was and slowly continued on his journey into the Blackwood. He thanked Ulfric for allowing him to live this day and continued forward.</s>	<\|message\|>Kyiriniae'aea Kyiriniae'aea sagged with relief as the human mage stepped through the portal. She didn't much like humans, they could be powerful but their short roach like lives made them unpredictable and grasping. Still, given her other companions were literal cannibals, she supposed she could tolerate the arrival of so useful a pawn. "I did," she admitted, smiling winsomely and stepping forward, holding out her hand like a human noble so that the mage could take it and kiss it in the proscribed fashion. She made a gesture that encompassed room. "We are in a place called the Blackwood," she explained, taking a step back and gesturing to one of the chairs by the table in her newly cleaned study. The chaos had been put to right and she even had taken the time to properly set up the alchemical equipment in the corner. The tower still didn't quite look lived in, but it no longer resembled the ruin it had when she had first come in. "I'm afraid it was something of a desperation move," she confessed, her lip quivering ever so slightly to convey fear and vulnerability as she took her own seat. She badly wished she had some wine, but that would have to wait, instead she offered the human some of the roasted boar that her servants had brought her. "I am Kyiriniae'aea, though you may call me Kyra," she introduced herself. She chewed on the end of one of her long blonde locks for a moment before continuing. "I am afraid I have been cursed by a Warlock," she admitted, "and if you were willing to aid me, I would be forever in your debt."</s>
<\|description\|>Mari Marisaya Njalsdottir \|\| 20 \|\| Female Race Half-Elf (Silvari and Norgardian) Appearance Mari's undoubtedly a little small for a fighter, but moves with the grace and poise of someone who has had thorough training, if not a great deal of experience. She can easily pass for human even if her auburn red hair isn't covering her lightly pointed ears. Her eyes are a bright sea blue-green, and she typically gives off the look of someone still full of life and energy. She wears light armor, mostly embossed and studded leather that's probably more decorative than it is protective, with a minimum of cobbled-together plate. It's in Mari's interest to stay lightly geared, considering how often she finds herself on open water. Personality Mari is fierce, bold, and passionate, and a genuinely good woman at heart. She feels she has a great deal to make up for from her youth, and believes fully that the Daughters of Rán are her way to redemption. When working Mari is serious, focused, and efficient, and though at times self-doubt can slow her down, she has enough courage to forge ahead even when she suspects she might fail. Recently she has found meaning and purpose in helping others, and will gladly take up a worthy cause even at risk to her own safety or fortune. In quieter moments, Mari is fully capable of relaxing, unwinding, and sharing a drink and stories. She's not secretive about her past or her feelings, and finds that she connects with and empathizes easily with others. The Ninth Daughter of Rán --- Background~Aspiring Mercenary Priestess ~Lower Class, Criminal Background ~Daughter of a runaway Silvari noblewoman and a Norgardian smuggler HistoryMari has romantic origins, the result of a runaway Silvari girl fleeing an arranged marriage and a Norgardian smuggler that left his own homeland behind. She grew up in the Sea of Swords, and there the romance ended. Life as the daughter of a common smuggler was hardly easy, especially one like her father, who found himself in debt to powerful individuals. At twelve Mari found herself working to help pay off those debts, mostly to a criminal and pirate lord, an Izyrian named Ihsan. She worked for him and his crews, hopping islands and pickpocketing, thieving, spying, and eavesdropping. As she grew, she graduated to more direct assistance, and took some part in piracy and raids. It was all she knew at first, and Mari was talented and adventurous, albeit unsatisfied with the way her life was going. Everything changed at 18, when she was caught stealing from a woman named Asherah, First of the Daughters of Rán, a small but respected and even feared group of women sellswords. Often known by other names such as Sisters of the Sea or Witches of the Waves or simply the Sirens, the Daughters belonged to the clever and cunning sea-goddess Rán. The gifts she granted her Nine Daughters were not always extraordinary, but it was believed that the presence of a Daughter aboard a ship could well be the difference between a smooth voyage and a death at the hands of a passing leviathan or vicious storm. When Asherah unexpectedly took a liking to Mari, she felt the Goddess had guided them together. Rán's Daughters always numbered Nine, but recently one had passed, opening a place for Mari if she wanted it. Even knowing she'd be leaving her father on his own, not to mention making an enemy of Ihsan by betraying him, Mari accepted, and began two years of hard training with her new sisters, who protected her while she prepared to join their ranks. She learned slowly and with many mistakes, but learned all the same. The Daughters of Rán offered her a new way forward, one where she could be a better person, while still finding the adventure her heart desired. Now at the end of her training, Mari faces a rite of passage: venture into the Blackwood, alone, and make her way into the forgotten places with Rán's guidance, to find her hidden temple, a place supposedly only accessible to the Nine Daughters. There she will pray and accept the gifts the Goddess offers, seizing the power she feels she needs to fully make amends for her past. MotivationMari must find the Hidden Temple of Rán, hidden somewhere in the Blackwood, and complete her initiation into the Daughters of Rán. After that, she can follow where the waters take her, and sell her sword and skills to those she feels need it most. Witch of the Waves \| \| \| \| SkillsMari is a former thief attempting to remake herself as a proper warrior. Her abilities are spread thin between combat, knowledge, and underhanded skills. Combat [1/1]~Sword and Shield [1] ~Daggers [1] Intelligence [1/1]~Literacy [1] ~Religion [1] ~Geography [1] Charisma [1/1]~Diplomacy [2] Health [1/1]~Cold Resistance [1] Faculties [1/1]~Resolve [1] ~Perception [1] Agility [1/1]~Pick Pocket [1] ~Lockpick [1] ~Balance [1] ~Swimming [2] Mysticism [0/3] --- Equipment~One handed sword ~Wooden round shield ~Two small daggers ~Leather and partial plate armor ~Stitched hide and linen clothes ~Prayer bead necklaces with symbols of Rán Money~1 Royal ~18 Lordlings ~40 Commons Languages~Northern Tongue ~Grim Northern ~Bits and pieces of many other tongues \| \| \|</s> <\|message\|>Kyiriniae'aea Kyiriniae'aea observed the goblinoids for a few moments. Both her High Elven kin and her Dark Elven Goddess despised such creatures. The presence of the human child did not concern her overmuch, but nor was she inclined to leave the creature to be slaughtered if it could be turned to her advantage. The elven sorceress was no warrior, but she knew that guile was a better weapon than steel in almost any situation. She crouched down behind a tree stump and took a moment to plan. Four goblins would be a handful but there were ways to even the odds. Volduressë looked with favor on those who had others fight their battles for them and so she followed her Goddess' command. The Elven sorceress began to weave her fingers into an intricate patter, the position of each finger tip as precise as a master musician beginning a tune on a harp. The spell built as she planned the next few seconds, magic flowing into her being as the weave tightened and gained form. When it was ready she released it with a snap of energy evident to her magically attuned senses. The spell was aimed not at the goblins, but at the human. The child's scream of terror suddenly turned into a scream as its body seemed to twist and reshape itself in accordance with Kyiriniae'aea's design. In the blink of an eye the goblin was holding not a human child, but a scorpion the size of a large cat, venom dripping from its stinger and pincers snapping. At the same time she used a simple trick, changing the hue of the bright fire to the black glowing light of a sacrificial flame. Its unnatural light flickering of the scorpion child's carapace. Kyiriniae'aea polymorphs the child into a scorpion and makes it extra spooky by turning the flame black. Waiting for chaos to ensue.</s> <\|message\|>Name "So anyway, what are you two doing going up this river anyhow?" The lad asked, having talked their ears off the last hour. Moving up river was tiring work, but this boy had rowed and talked, rowed and talked, rowed and talked. Perhaps it was the fact he like as not did this every day as a living, but it was still a sight to see. It was almost impressive for a dwarf too. The Grannic River was a long one, snaking up from the peninsula of the Seven Cities and the Nevrazym Dale all the way into the bosom of the Blackwood, or so the longshoreman had said back in Cavlarck. "'Nothing but trouble is what you'll find in the Blackwood' my paw always says." The boy declared, then thought for a moment. "Except for trees. There's a whole lot of trees. And monsters too...probably some towns as well. "Shut up, boy," The second of the rowers grunted. He was a dark man, with an almost dwarf-like beard and corded muscles. His back was to the two travelers, and he rowed in silence save such lovely comments as that. Luckily it seemed they knew their business, keeping the boat afloat and keeping the goods the traveler's had stored behind steadied. Attached to the small boat was a strange raft; a contraption with wooden bars that stood up like some cage, carrying their cart, supplies, and even the donkey was seemed too busy lapping at the water through the bars to be afraid. The trees had grown notably darker as they rowed further northwards, away from the Sea of Swords and the Seven Cities so rife with intrigue and chaos. Good money to be made there, and work. But you were as likely to have it or your craft confiscated by a rival city. The Blackwood had little in the way of competition, word had it. Now the boat began to turn ever slightly toward the shore, and the two rowers perked up as if they had arrived at a destination, though there were no markings and little in the way of space to make landfall. @Tony Pajamas --- Hundreds of miles to the north, another unlikely pair were making their way south through the foothills of northern Andred. Grim were they, and fell to look upon. Much like the Northern mountains they had descended from. Torsten had passed through southern Norgard, past the Halls of the Jotuns in the Hruntigmir Mountains, otherwise known as the Frostfells, and made it into the Northern Marches where he met Vanhel, realizing they both had a common destination. It has now been two weeks since they passed Umber's Cairn, right at the beginning of spring when the snows have finally melted. Staying away from most Andredian villages and settlements save for the occasional waystation, their journey had finally bore fruit for the two companions. For they had passed a simple glen to find themselves face to face with two massive trees, darker in hue and far more robust than any trees they had come across for weeks. A northern relic in the soft, southern lands of the 'civilized' nations. Perhaps you see it as a welcome sight, or perhaps you feel as if the stories you sought to find out about the legends of the forest were true. Whatever the case may be, the treeline stood as a great wall daring them to enter, with the two large oaks a veritable gateway into the realm of grimdarkness. As the two dare approach, they are greeted by a strange revving, stuttering sound. An echo that belies the direction they known to listen to, though they soon know the direction. A strange shape coalesces around the 'gateway' before their eyes. As it forms, the two see it is truly large! It looks to be some form of boar-like creature, though instead of two tusks along its mouth, it has three horns along the center of its snout, like a strange porcine whooly rhinoceros. Torsten and Vanhel would only be able to reach it's shoulder if they stood next to the ginormous beast, and though it does not seem to be antagonistic, it grunts and smells the grass just at the entrance to the wood they seek to enter. Pawing the ground with its hooves, it seems content to nibble upon the foliage just before them. Perhaps they could find another way in, off a beaten path to the east or west? Perhaps the beast would bring good meat or make a fine trophy... or perhaps it is best to let sleeping pigs lie. @Gunther</s>	<\|message\|>Mari Balance: 1d8+1 = 5 (4 + 1) Intelligence: d8 = 4 Mari missed the sound of the sea. It was something she'd taken for granted, born and raised near the water as she always had been, and now that it was gone, the world seemed all too uncomfortably quiet. This forest would test her, she knew; Asherah had promised as much, and to become a Daughter of Rán, Mari would have to overcome adversity. She needed to prove she was one of them in heart and mind before she could be granted any gifts. She stopped at the edge of the gulley, pushing auburn hair from her face. Getting around this would take hours, and Mari wanted to make it deeper into the forest well before darkness fell. She had a passing knowledge of world geography, but without help in this forest she would be hopelessly lost. People lived in the darkness of the wood somewhere, she just had to find them, and perhaps see if a deal could be made. That meant getting down and through the gulley. Mari noted the very large, very dead thing down there, but whatever felled it was nowhere to be seen, no tracks she could identify at a distance. The smell was strong, though. Best not to linger here any longer than I have to. She started down carefully after securing her pack and her shield, making quick work of the descent. She almost slipped once, but caught herself and kept her feet, setting foot in the basin. Her boots sank into the mud beneath the shallow, filthy water, but she made sure to keep moving, finding that the muck wasn't severe enough to threaten her. The creature was an ogre, she guessed, judging by Asherah's descriptions from stories she'd told. Goddess, the old woman had a lot of stories. The ogre looked to be a few days dead at least, and the smell grew even worse as she passed. With no intent of sticking around to end up beside the dead ogre, Mari began the work of climbing up the far side of the gulley, finding it no more difficult than the descent. It wasn't the warmest welcome into the Blackwood, but Mari had already steeled herself for the worst. Whatever the Watery Widow intended to throw at her, she would face it.</s>
<\|description\|>Mari Marisaya Njalsdottir \|\| 20 \|\| Female Race Half-Elf (Silvari and Norgardian) Appearance Mari's undoubtedly a little small for a fighter, but moves with the grace and poise of someone who has had thorough training, if not a great deal of experience. She can easily pass for human even if her auburn red hair isn't covering her lightly pointed ears. Her eyes are a bright sea blue-green, and she typically gives off the look of someone still full of life and energy. She wears light armor, mostly embossed and studded leather that's probably more decorative than it is protective, with a minimum of cobbled-together plate. It's in Mari's interest to stay lightly geared, considering how often she finds herself on open water. Personality Mari is fierce, bold, and passionate, and a genuinely good woman at heart. She feels she has a great deal to make up for from her youth, and believes fully that the Daughters of Rán are her way to redemption. When working Mari is serious, focused, and efficient, and though at times self-doubt can slow her down, she has enough courage to forge ahead even when she suspects she might fail. Recently she has found meaning and purpose in helping others, and will gladly take up a worthy cause even at risk to her own safety or fortune. In quieter moments, Mari is fully capable of relaxing, unwinding, and sharing a drink and stories. She's not secretive about her past or her feelings, and finds that she connects with and empathizes easily with others. The Ninth Daughter of Rán --- Background~Aspiring Mercenary Priestess ~Lower Class, Criminal Background ~Daughter of a runaway Silvari noblewoman and a Norgardian smuggler HistoryMari has romantic origins, the result of a runaway Silvari girl fleeing an arranged marriage and a Norgardian smuggler that left his own homeland behind. She grew up in the Sea of Swords, and there the romance ended. Life as the daughter of a common smuggler was hardly easy, especially one like her father, who found himself in debt to powerful individuals. At twelve Mari found herself working to help pay off those debts, mostly to a criminal and pirate lord, an Izyrian named Ihsan. She worked for him and his crews, hopping islands and pickpocketing, thieving, spying, and eavesdropping. As she grew, she graduated to more direct assistance, and took some part in piracy and raids. It was all she knew at first, and Mari was talented and adventurous, albeit unsatisfied with the way her life was going. Everything changed at 18, when she was caught stealing from a woman named Asherah, First of the Daughters of Rán, a small but respected and even feared group of women sellswords. Often known by other names such as Sisters of the Sea or Witches of the Waves or simply the Sirens, the Daughters belonged to the clever and cunning sea-goddess Rán. The gifts she granted her Nine Daughters were not always extraordinary, but it was believed that the presence of a Daughter aboard a ship could well be the difference between a smooth voyage and a death at the hands of a passing leviathan or vicious storm. When Asherah unexpectedly took a liking to Mari, she felt the Goddess had guided them together. Rán's Daughters always numbered Nine, but recently one had passed, opening a place for Mari if she wanted it. Even knowing she'd be leaving her father on his own, not to mention making an enemy of Ihsan by betraying him, Mari accepted, and began two years of hard training with her new sisters, who protected her while she prepared to join their ranks. She learned slowly and with many mistakes, but learned all the same. The Daughters of Rán offered her a new way forward, one where she could be a better person, while still finding the adventure her heart desired. Now at the end of her training, Mari faces a rite of passage: venture into the Blackwood, alone, and make her way into the forgotten places with Rán's guidance, to find her hidden temple, a place supposedly only accessible to the Nine Daughters. There she will pray and accept the gifts the Goddess offers, seizing the power she feels she needs to fully make amends for her past. MotivationMari must find the Hidden Temple of Rán, hidden somewhere in the Blackwood, and complete her initiation into the Daughters of Rán. After that, she can follow where the waters take her, and sell her sword and skills to those she feels need it most. Witch of the Waves \| \| \| \| SkillsMari is a former thief attempting to remake herself as a proper warrior. Her abilities are spread thin between combat, knowledge, and underhanded skills. Combat [1/1]~Sword and Shield [1] ~Daggers [1] Intelligence [1/1]~Literacy [1] ~Religion [1] ~Geography [1] Charisma [1/1]~Diplomacy [2] Health [1/1]~Cold Resistance [1] Faculties [1/1]~Resolve [1] ~Perception [1] Agility [1/1]~Pick Pocket [1] ~Lockpick [1] ~Balance [1] ~Swimming [2] Mysticism [0/3] --- Equipment~One handed sword ~Wooden round shield ~Two small daggers ~Leather and partial plate armor ~Stitched hide and linen clothes ~Prayer bead necklaces with symbols of Rán Money~1 Royal ~18 Lordlings ~40 Commons Languages~Northern Tongue ~Grim Northern ~Bits and pieces of many other tongues \| \| \|</s> <\|message\|>Kyiriniae'aea Kyiriniae'aea crouched down beside the child and wove her fingers beguiling before its eyes, stilling its cries as she wove a magical somnolence to quiet the baby. She had no particularly maternal instincts but if it started caterwauling at the right time it might disrupt her plan. With silence assured, she stood up and straightened her dress, preparing herself for the next step. There was some danger involved but she wasn't going to establish herself in this forest by timidity. She closed her eyes and wove a second spell. Blink The tall elf appeared in the flames as the Gundarogs chanted. Stepping quickly from the fire before it could catch. None the less a few of the fibres and the tips of her hair smoked and sizzled though she kept any cry from her lips so as not to spoil the illusion. The the Gundarogs it appeared as though she had been birthed from the flames in response to their chanting. Moving far enough from the fire to be safe she spread her arms akimbo to appear as impressive as she could. "Why have you ventured out under the accursed sun?" she demanded in tone of oratorical command. The back-lighting from the fire made her appear shadowed and featureless. "Why have you left the tunnels and forsaken the search for my brethren?" she demanded.</s> <\|message\|>Emilio Virtoli Diplomacy = 8 + 3 = 11 The Dre Costan showed no signs of tiring from the boy's repetitive questions. All the more he seemed just as excited and lively. "Ah, but where there are towns there are people. Where there are people, my services shall always be required. Setting disputes, evaluating valuables, and moving about the general necessities of the world." Emilio spoke with elegance outwardly to the child, as if he had prepared this spiel his entire life. "Oh, and of course my friend here." He'd gesture with flair to Wēlanandaz. "Monsters mean armor and weapons are in great demand yes? Well what finer is there than expert Dwarvern make?" The question was exclaimed proudly and entirely rhetorical, though he'd move on before the child could comment on it. "I am certain one way or another it shall be an exciting and prosperous venture. You yourself found this to be your own service after all. I am certain you have heard much and more of the Blackwood. It would make me most grateful if you could tell us some more of what to expect. Anything you've heard of the locals, the closest towns or villages. Any and all is appreciated." An eye would look from the man to the shore as they made a turn towards it. A seemingly entire lackluster and lone spot. "Ah, and directions. Truly you would wish for us to make it safely yes? After we have made our fortunes here we would remember those that labored along the way." Emilio would add on with a cheery smile and tone. All but antithetical to the rowing man's silence. "Of course I'd hope the same to be true of myself. Should I find any weary souls who wish to turn their way back for an honest fee, I would all the more direct them to the one who had the same guided safely our own passage. I'd need a name of course for such a man and I would not ask without bestowing my own. Emilio Virtoli, merchant, as you already well know." A seated half bow was added on, not wishing to rock the boat overly much as they were soon to be pulling onto land.</s>	<\|message\|>Mari Screaming was the last thing Mari intended to do. She'd allowed herself to be ambushed, distracted as she was by the wyvern's arrival, which she'd only narrowly avoided by luck, but now her instinct was to fight rather than let fear rule. She reached for one of her daggers, but a strong hand caught her wrist. The voice behind her promised her no harm. It took a few seconds, but finally Mari relaxed her muscles and slowed her breathing, the woman letting her go as soon as she did. If she'd wanted to kill Mari, she had a perfect chance already, and hadn't used it. That was good enough. Mari cautiously checked to make sure the wyvern was still occupied with the ogre, then turned about. Ithaca, she introduced herself as. A Praelian name if she'd ever heard one, with a look to match. Taller than Mari, and well armed and armored. What she promised sounded like a much needed bit of good luck. "Lead the way," she instructed, eager to put the gulley and the wyvern well behind her. Only when the sounds of the creature feasting on the ogre's corpse had disappeared did she venture her own introduction. "I'm Mari, of the Sea of Swords. What's this town we're headed to?"</s>
<\|description\|>Mari Marisaya Njalsdottir \|\| 20 \|\| Female Race Half-Elf (Silvari and Norgardian) Appearance Mari's undoubtedly a little small for a fighter, but moves with the grace and poise of someone who has had thorough training, if not a great deal of experience. She can easily pass for human even if her auburn red hair isn't covering her lightly pointed ears. Her eyes are a bright sea blue-green, and she typically gives off the look of someone still full of life and energy. She wears light armor, mostly embossed and studded leather that's probably more decorative than it is protective, with a minimum of cobbled-together plate. It's in Mari's interest to stay lightly geared, considering how often she finds herself on open water. Personality Mari is fierce, bold, and passionate, and a genuinely good woman at heart. She feels she has a great deal to make up for from her youth, and believes fully that the Daughters of Rán are her way to redemption. When working Mari is serious, focused, and efficient, and though at times self-doubt can slow her down, she has enough courage to forge ahead even when she suspects she might fail. Recently she has found meaning and purpose in helping others, and will gladly take up a worthy cause even at risk to her own safety or fortune. In quieter moments, Mari is fully capable of relaxing, unwinding, and sharing a drink and stories. She's not secretive about her past or her feelings, and finds that she connects with and empathizes easily with others. The Ninth Daughter of Rán --- Background~Aspiring Mercenary Priestess ~Lower Class, Criminal Background ~Daughter of a runaway Silvari noblewoman and a Norgardian smuggler HistoryMari has romantic origins, the result of a runaway Silvari girl fleeing an arranged marriage and a Norgardian smuggler that left his own homeland behind. She grew up in the Sea of Swords, and there the romance ended. Life as the daughter of a common smuggler was hardly easy, especially one like her father, who found himself in debt to powerful individuals. At twelve Mari found herself working to help pay off those debts, mostly to a criminal and pirate lord, an Izyrian named Ihsan. She worked for him and his crews, hopping islands and pickpocketing, thieving, spying, and eavesdropping. As she grew, she graduated to more direct assistance, and took some part in piracy and raids. It was all she knew at first, and Mari was talented and adventurous, albeit unsatisfied with the way her life was going. Everything changed at 18, when she was caught stealing from a woman named Asherah, First of the Daughters of Rán, a small but respected and even feared group of women sellswords. Often known by other names such as Sisters of the Sea or Witches of the Waves or simply the Sirens, the Daughters belonged to the clever and cunning sea-goddess Rán. The gifts she granted her Nine Daughters were not always extraordinary, but it was believed that the presence of a Daughter aboard a ship could well be the difference between a smooth voyage and a death at the hands of a passing leviathan or vicious storm. When Asherah unexpectedly took a liking to Mari, she felt the Goddess had guided them together. Rán's Daughters always numbered Nine, but recently one had passed, opening a place for Mari if she wanted it. Even knowing she'd be leaving her father on his own, not to mention making an enemy of Ihsan by betraying him, Mari accepted, and began two years of hard training with her new sisters, who protected her while she prepared to join their ranks. She learned slowly and with many mistakes, but learned all the same. The Daughters of Rán offered her a new way forward, one where she could be a better person, while still finding the adventure her heart desired. Now at the end of her training, Mari faces a rite of passage: venture into the Blackwood, alone, and make her way into the forgotten places with Rán's guidance, to find her hidden temple, a place supposedly only accessible to the Nine Daughters. There she will pray and accept the gifts the Goddess offers, seizing the power she feels she needs to fully make amends for her past. MotivationMari must find the Hidden Temple of Rán, hidden somewhere in the Blackwood, and complete her initiation into the Daughters of Rán. After that, she can follow where the waters take her, and sell her sword and skills to those she feels need it most. Witch of the Waves \| \| \| \| SkillsMari is a former thief attempting to remake herself as a proper warrior. Her abilities are spread thin between combat, knowledge, and underhanded skills. Combat [1/1]~Sword and Shield [1] ~Daggers [1] Intelligence [1/1]~Literacy [1] ~Religion [1] ~Geography [1] Charisma [1/1]~Diplomacy [2] Health [1/1]~Cold Resistance [1] Faculties [1/1]~Resolve [1] ~Perception [1] Agility [1/1]~Pick Pocket [1] ~Lockpick [1] ~Balance [1] ~Swimming [2] Mysticism [0/3] --- Equipment~One handed sword ~Wooden round shield ~Two small daggers ~Leather and partial plate armor ~Stitched hide and linen clothes ~Prayer bead necklaces with symbols of Rán Money~1 Royal ~18 Lordlings ~40 Commons Languages~Northern Tongue ~Grim Northern ~Bits and pieces of many other tongues \| \| \|</s> <\|message\|>Name When Kyiriniae'aea activated the archway with her energies, it became horribly clear not a moment later that the elven maiden should have activated the crystal ball prior, for she felt the very energy of her being sucked into what seemed an endless void of nothingness. Her very soul was stretched like a dislocated arm, and it was only mercifully pushed back within her once the archway coalesced energies borne of her magics. To say she felt drained was an understatement, though what appeared next would be far, far worse. The archway swirled with multicolored energy of pure chaos as the very structure itself sparked with eldritch, purple lightning every few moments that audibly cracked and sizzled. Though the air in the chamber was stilled, the sorceress could feel a strange ebb and flow of magic with her magesight, like kicked up dust from some explosion that served as a portent of doom. It was after five long seconds that the visitor appeared. At first, one clawed foot stepped into the material plane, for he approached. Then the next laid bare upon the stone, for he approached. A staff of blacksteel crowned with a demonskull materialized before her eyes, for he approached. Scaled skin the color of stained oak mixed with dead blood showed from his entrance, for he approached. His robes were suddenly palpable and colored purple, yet shimmered as if coated with black spider silk, for he approached. It was his face she saw last. A draconic visage, lipless and sunken like skin barely clinging to a vicious skull, with two large, sloped horns framing its snout. Upon his brow were three eyes, the center clearly made of some unknown precious gemstone. Once fully out of the portal, Kyiriniae'aea saw the thing, fully seven feet in height. If she used her magesight, she saw it was at least two long strides above her in power and knowledge, though there was no telling what it or he was. It was obvious even if she weren't so drained, she had no real chance of bewitching the thing and could likely harm it enough to make it angrier. She heard a low growl emanate from its throat, as if it were the broken engine of some Dwarven machine. "What realm is this?" It asked aloud, though she could tell it was asking itself rather than her. It's voice was three voices, or perhaps it echoed within its throat thrice, for they sounded very deep and similar. All at once, its three eyed gaze fell upon Kyiriniae'aea, scrutinizing her as if she were a squirrel that had wandered into a living room. "A fairy..." it said, referring to the archaic forms of the Elves before they were gifted larger bodies by the Gods so long ago. "Why did you call Gekir'vash'ni'k'kashnik'ash here?" Suddenly, the tension was broken when a wail rose up from neither of them, and both saw the form of the baby in the bag, shaking its fists and crying. The warlock, for it indeed had the energy signature of such a thing, tilted its head curiously. It's curiosity was likely the only thing from killing the sorceress at the current moment. "A child?" Oh FUCK! Well, you can...um, you got a lot of options. Clearly there are no easy ones. You could attempt to unsummon him, though I wouldn't try unless you're feeling really lucky. You could try to lie and bargain with what you have to save your own skin, or you could blink away though he either chases you or you lose your tower. Or you could surprise me!</s> <\|message\|>Kyiriniae'aea Kyiriniae'aea felt her mouth go dry as the demon, awesome in its power, stepped through the portal. She had a queasy feeling that she had come within a hair's breadth of her own soul being sucked through the portal to feed the thing. For a heartbeat she considered fleeing, but it seemed unlikely that if the thing really wanted her that she was going to be able to fly far and fast enough to avoid that fate. Instead she threw herself to the ground in obeisance scrapping her knees and spreading her arms wide. "A tool mighty Gekir'vash'ni'k'kashnik'ash, a pawn to aid in my designs," she informed the demon thing in her most reverential tone. She fought against the cold sweat the prickled the back of her neck, forcing herself to remain calm and think rationally. The demon thing was the most powerful entity she had yet encountered, but power did no always equate to guile. "I have called you forth to seek knowledge which only you possess," she lied glibly. "I have prepared a sacrifice for you, two gundarogs, my most faithful servants, stand at the base of this tower, teach me of your arts o great one, and they shall be but the first souls that I lay before you taloned feet," she entreated, warming to her subject as she remained unobliterated. Carefully she risked a glance up at the creature, resolving to blink for the window if it didn't appear that this were going well. Diplomacy - 8 (6+2)</s> <\|message\|>Name "A pawn to aid in your designs?" It asked, and it would dawn on her that it was not slow in thought, but was unused to speaking in such a tongue. Or perhaps it was unused to even speaking, for perhaps the realm it had come from communicated in other ways. The Thousand Realms before the material world were unthinkable in its dimensions, though Elves knew that more than most, having come from their own Fey realm millennia ago. Gekir'vash'ni'k'kashnik'ash took two steps forward, and to her horror Kyiriniae'aea would see cracks in the stone appear under his feet at each step. Either his form was so dense it was ten times heavier than he appeared, or the very stone found his presence repellent. It slowly bent its form, sucking in her stench through its enlarged, crocidilian-like nostrils. She felt the small sensation of her soul lifting from her once more, though it settled far quicker than when she had attempted to open the portal. "You will be a pawn to aid in mine." It declared, with such finality that to her, fate itself agreed. Lifting itself higher, it breathed out noxious fumes for but a moment. The black air lingered above her like a raised guillotine. "Gundarogs are paltry... No, I require more pure blood for my machinations." A clawed hand raised, and even her magesight could not detect what spell had enacted to allow the baby slide out of the sack and to float over to the entity's waiting grasp. Almost gently, it clutched the child that had stopped crying. It only looked at the bestial thing, eyes wide as if stricken. "You wish to learn from me? You are but a child as this one, but I can aid you for your services. Bring me nine more children within this planet's month, or an artifact of sufficient power that I may devour. Do so, and I will grant you powers beyond what you can perform. Do it not..." He let the threat end, for he did not need to say more. His very voice carried a threat that was far worse than death. Kyiriniae'aea would not see, but she would hear a snap, and a fleshy crunch as Gekir'vash'ni'k'kashnik'ash made his exit through the portal once more. The archway flared to life in bright flash like a collapsing star, and then it went suddenly dark. The magic no longer lingered within, and Kyiriniae'aea would be safe from any more entrances from there for now. Accompanied by the fear, the Elven woman had performed many spells that day. Though her repitoire was not yet expended, she felt almost intoxicated with the magic she had pulled to use for her spells. That coupled with her encounter of that other-wordly thing, made her feel both buzzed yet anxious. And yet there was little time to waste if she wished to perform her duties...or find a way to keep Gekir'vash'ni'k'kashnik'ash banished for good. You are still able to activate the crystal ball if you wish, or you can call for your Gundarogs, or both or neither. I will need a sanity roll, however (just faculties since you are yet to have a point in sanity).</s>	<\|message\|>Mari Civilization at last. Mari felt extremely lucky that her first encounter with another person in the Blackwood had been so positive, and the tollkeeper served as a stark reminder that it wouldn't always be that way. She took in the town, one building after the next, as Ithaca introduced them. The people didn't seem to find her arrival noteworthy; no doubt plenty of well-armed strangers made their way through this outpost. She made certain to remember Po Harthwyn's name and face, as he seemed like someone she ought to try speaking with later. There wasn't any hurry, as Mari didn't need to complete her journey on any particular timetable. Completing it alive was the important part, and that meant not venturing back out into the woods until she was rested, restocked, and armed with at least something resembling a lead. The town seemed to have everything she needed, though her funds were limited, and would be restricted to the necessities. For the moment Mari simply dismounted the horse, far less painfully than she had the last time. "If you're here tonight, can I buy you an ale later?" She grinned a little at Ithaca. "Seems I have five Lordlings more than I should thanks to you." Regardless, her first stop was the Grandhaven behind her, for a room, a hot meal so she didn't need to deplete her rations further, and a bath. Necessities, all.</s>
<\|description\|>Mari Marisaya Njalsdottir \|\| 20 \|\| Female Race Half-Elf (Silvari and Norgardian) Appearance Mari's undoubtedly a little small for a fighter, but moves with the grace and poise of someone who has had thorough training, if not a great deal of experience. She can easily pass for human even if her auburn red hair isn't covering her lightly pointed ears. Her eyes are a bright sea blue-green, and she typically gives off the look of someone still full of life and energy. She wears light armor, mostly embossed and studded leather that's probably more decorative than it is protective, with a minimum of cobbled-together plate. It's in Mari's interest to stay lightly geared, considering how often she finds herself on open water. Personality Mari is fierce, bold, and passionate, and a genuinely good woman at heart. She feels she has a great deal to make up for from her youth, and believes fully that the Daughters of Rán are her way to redemption. When working Mari is serious, focused, and efficient, and though at times self-doubt can slow her down, she has enough courage to forge ahead even when she suspects she might fail. Recently she has found meaning and purpose in helping others, and will gladly take up a worthy cause even at risk to her own safety or fortune. In quieter moments, Mari is fully capable of relaxing, unwinding, and sharing a drink and stories. She's not secretive about her past or her feelings, and finds that she connects with and empathizes easily with others. The Ninth Daughter of Rán --- Background~Aspiring Mercenary Priestess ~Lower Class, Criminal Background ~Daughter of a runaway Silvari noblewoman and a Norgardian smuggler HistoryMari has romantic origins, the result of a runaway Silvari girl fleeing an arranged marriage and a Norgardian smuggler that left his own homeland behind. She grew up in the Sea of Swords, and there the romance ended. Life as the daughter of a common smuggler was hardly easy, especially one like her father, who found himself in debt to powerful individuals. At twelve Mari found herself working to help pay off those debts, mostly to a criminal and pirate lord, an Izyrian named Ihsan. She worked for him and his crews, hopping islands and pickpocketing, thieving, spying, and eavesdropping. As she grew, she graduated to more direct assistance, and took some part in piracy and raids. It was all she knew at first, and Mari was talented and adventurous, albeit unsatisfied with the way her life was going. Everything changed at 18, when she was caught stealing from a woman named Asherah, First of the Daughters of Rán, a small but respected and even feared group of women sellswords. Often known by other names such as Sisters of the Sea or Witches of the Waves or simply the Sirens, the Daughters belonged to the clever and cunning sea-goddess Rán. The gifts she granted her Nine Daughters were not always extraordinary, but it was believed that the presence of a Daughter aboard a ship could well be the difference between a smooth voyage and a death at the hands of a passing leviathan or vicious storm. When Asherah unexpectedly took a liking to Mari, she felt the Goddess had guided them together. Rán's Daughters always numbered Nine, but recently one had passed, opening a place for Mari if she wanted it. Even knowing she'd be leaving her father on his own, not to mention making an enemy of Ihsan by betraying him, Mari accepted, and began two years of hard training with her new sisters, who protected her while she prepared to join their ranks. She learned slowly and with many mistakes, but learned all the same. The Daughters of Rán offered her a new way forward, one where she could be a better person, while still finding the adventure her heart desired. Now at the end of her training, Mari faces a rite of passage: venture into the Blackwood, alone, and make her way into the forgotten places with Rán's guidance, to find her hidden temple, a place supposedly only accessible to the Nine Daughters. There she will pray and accept the gifts the Goddess offers, seizing the power she feels she needs to fully make amends for her past. MotivationMari must find the Hidden Temple of Rán, hidden somewhere in the Blackwood, and complete her initiation into the Daughters of Rán. After that, she can follow where the waters take her, and sell her sword and skills to those she feels need it most. Witch of the Waves \| \| \| \| SkillsMari is a former thief attempting to remake herself as a proper warrior. Her abilities are spread thin between combat, knowledge, and underhanded skills. Combat [1/1]~Sword and Shield [1] ~Daggers [1] Intelligence [1/1]~Literacy [1] ~Religion [1] ~Geography [1] Charisma [1/1]~Diplomacy [2] Health [1/1]~Cold Resistance [1] Faculties [1/1]~Resolve [1] ~Perception [1] Agility [1/1]~Pick Pocket [1] ~Lockpick [1] ~Balance [1] ~Swimming [2] Mysticism [0/3] --- Equipment~One handed sword ~Wooden round shield ~Two small daggers ~Leather and partial plate armor ~Stitched hide and linen clothes ~Prayer bead necklaces with symbols of Rán Money~1 Royal ~18 Lordlings ~40 Commons Languages~Northern Tongue ~Grim Northern ~Bits and pieces of many other tongues \| \| \|</s> <\|message\|>Emilio Virtoli The merchant listened with intent to the Dwarf's words. It didn't feel often he spoke in comparison and certainly he spoke as if he had a thousand years of knowledge swirling around his mind. Any remarks were certainly worthwhile and they caught Emilio's ears as he seemed to consider them as well as his response. "Well there is much to start off from his words no? We know where we are headed and the protectors of the local area. Some dangers and warnings of where to not pass." He'd chime as he reclined back against the wood of the cart. "Olderin's Refuge, with the Knights of the Skull being some local mercenaries or glory hounds by the sounds of it. Else it sounds like we might find some luck should your 'clan' still hold land in this place. Certainly the way you speak it your talents would be of great use to them." A hand would stroke his chin in thought at that. Numbers and schemes already running about in his mind. "That or maybe these Knight folks could use some new blades. Either way, we should be able to catch some more of whats going on once we are in town. Much to your disdain of our endless ramblings it is the self same thing that shall find us riches and perhaps your people. There is much townsfolk love to gossip of, especially over a mug of fine drink. Something I feel you at least could partially agree with eh Wēlanandaz?" A smile would cross his face as he'd tilt his head to look over with his final words. Cocky and confident, as the man nearly always seemed to be.</s> <\|message\|>Name The two conversed as they began, pushing the cart uphill to help the donkey until they were set on the proper path. Once there, even the two chatty fellows would find the foliage growing more and more foreboding, almost pressing silence upon them regardless of their curiosities or efforts to keep a casual air about their travel. The donkey seemed somewhat glum (even for a donkey) but it didn't look overly agitated or fearful, which at least likely meant there was no problems with beasts so far. A large gulley lay on their right, and on their left a steep upwards incline into the swell of a hill. It rose like a wave and where it began to dip, as it was hard to tell with the trees in the way. Across the gulley and past the creek within its bed was just further trees, hiding all manner of Gods-know-what. To a couple of entrepreneurial chaps such as these, it might look like a lot of untapped resources. But the terrain was far too hilly to capitalize on it without a vast team of hired hands and a guard to keep them safe and protected if any of the stories of the Blackwood were to be believed. An hour passed by, and the donkey was guiding up yet another hill. It grunted irritably, but did its job without going lax as some stubborn donkeys were liable to do. The three just crested the hill when they found themselves on a straight path without the perils of twisting over uneven ground. The trees here were thicker, however, but that was not the most noticeable aspect. In front of them stood two large men; Knights, in fact. They were black and grey, with a marking of a skull at the center of their torso. Emilio and Wēlanandaz would see they were heavily armored in gambesons, chainmail, and bits of plate in the form of pauldrons and greaves. Their faces were hidden behind great helms given the visages of skulls at the front, and two steel horns plumed with feathers fanned out above their helmets. They held large swords, perhaps greatswords even, their blades on the ground with both hands on the hilts made of bone. Silently they stood there, saying nothing as the two fellows and their donkey came into their field of vision. Were it not for the slight tremor of their bodies from breathing, and the fact they were standing upright, it would have been difficult to tell if they were awake or even alive. Pajamas@Jb</s>	<\|message\|>Mari Mari found Rittenvos to be new and exciting and yet somehow quite familiar. It was the mood of the people, she decided, that was similar to the Sea of Swords. Lots of travelers and mercenaries and merchants, people in general not tied down to any location, simply passing through in search of adventure, fortune, or their own goals. For once Mari was one of them rather than simply a local. By the time she made it to the barroom her purse was two lordlings lighter. She felt lighter too, given the layer of sweat, dirt, and grime she'd washed off, though perhaps that was also because she'd left her plate, shield, and pack in her room. Considering how many other sellswords there were here wearing armor and weapons, Mari simply changed into a fresh white tunic and dark brown leggings, and cleaned her leathers as best she could before donning them again. On her belt were her sword, daggers, coin pouch, and necklaces of Rán. She'd managed to get a decent meal to fill her belly before turning in to her room, so it was ale she sought after now, and when she had two pints in her hands she made her way over to the right side of the room, trying to catch Ithaca's attention as she approached. She seemed to be conversing with the... man? Next to her, though Mari had to admit she'd never seen any of their race before. The plate armor was certainly fine, far better than what Mari could afford. "Hope I'm not intruding," she greeted, offering the pint. "I promised the Road Warden here an ale. If not for her I'd probably be wyvern food by now."</s>
<\|description\|>Mari Marisaya Njalsdottir \|\| 20 \|\| Female Race Half-Elf (Silvari and Norgardian) Appearance Mari's undoubtedly a little small for a fighter, but moves with the grace and poise of someone who has had thorough training, if not a great deal of experience. She can easily pass for human even if her auburn red hair isn't covering her lightly pointed ears. Her eyes are a bright sea blue-green, and she typically gives off the look of someone still full of life and energy. She wears light armor, mostly embossed and studded leather that's probably more decorative than it is protective, with a minimum of cobbled-together plate. It's in Mari's interest to stay lightly geared, considering how often she finds herself on open water. Personality Mari is fierce, bold, and passionate, and a genuinely good woman at heart. She feels she has a great deal to make up for from her youth, and believes fully that the Daughters of Rán are her way to redemption. When working Mari is serious, focused, and efficient, and though at times self-doubt can slow her down, she has enough courage to forge ahead even when she suspects she might fail. Recently she has found meaning and purpose in helping others, and will gladly take up a worthy cause even at risk to her own safety or fortune. In quieter moments, Mari is fully capable of relaxing, unwinding, and sharing a drink and stories. She's not secretive about her past or her feelings, and finds that she connects with and empathizes easily with others. The Ninth Daughter of Rán --- Background~Aspiring Mercenary Priestess ~Lower Class, Criminal Background ~Daughter of a runaway Silvari noblewoman and a Norgardian smuggler HistoryMari has romantic origins, the result of a runaway Silvari girl fleeing an arranged marriage and a Norgardian smuggler that left his own homeland behind. She grew up in the Sea of Swords, and there the romance ended. Life as the daughter of a common smuggler was hardly easy, especially one like her father, who found himself in debt to powerful individuals. At twelve Mari found herself working to help pay off those debts, mostly to a criminal and pirate lord, an Izyrian named Ihsan. She worked for him and his crews, hopping islands and pickpocketing, thieving, spying, and eavesdropping. As she grew, she graduated to more direct assistance, and took some part in piracy and raids. It was all she knew at first, and Mari was talented and adventurous, albeit unsatisfied with the way her life was going. Everything changed at 18, when she was caught stealing from a woman named Asherah, First of the Daughters of Rán, a small but respected and even feared group of women sellswords. Often known by other names such as Sisters of the Sea or Witches of the Waves or simply the Sirens, the Daughters belonged to the clever and cunning sea-goddess Rán. The gifts she granted her Nine Daughters were not always extraordinary, but it was believed that the presence of a Daughter aboard a ship could well be the difference between a smooth voyage and a death at the hands of a passing leviathan or vicious storm. When Asherah unexpectedly took a liking to Mari, she felt the Goddess had guided them together. Rán's Daughters always numbered Nine, but recently one had passed, opening a place for Mari if she wanted it. Even knowing she'd be leaving her father on his own, not to mention making an enemy of Ihsan by betraying him, Mari accepted, and began two years of hard training with her new sisters, who protected her while she prepared to join their ranks. She learned slowly and with many mistakes, but learned all the same. The Daughters of Rán offered her a new way forward, one where she could be a better person, while still finding the adventure her heart desired. Now at the end of her training, Mari faces a rite of passage: venture into the Blackwood, alone, and make her way into the forgotten places with Rán's guidance, to find her hidden temple, a place supposedly only accessible to the Nine Daughters. There she will pray and accept the gifts the Goddess offers, seizing the power she feels she needs to fully make amends for her past. MotivationMari must find the Hidden Temple of Rán, hidden somewhere in the Blackwood, and complete her initiation into the Daughters of Rán. After that, she can follow where the waters take her, and sell her sword and skills to those she feels need it most. Witch of the Waves \| \| \| \| SkillsMari is a former thief attempting to remake herself as a proper warrior. Her abilities are spread thin between combat, knowledge, and underhanded skills. Combat [1/1]~Sword and Shield [1] ~Daggers [1] Intelligence [1/1]~Literacy [1] ~Religion [1] ~Geography [1] Charisma [1/1]~Diplomacy [2] Health [1/1]~Cold Resistance [1] Faculties [1/1]~Resolve [1] ~Perception [1] Agility [1/1]~Pick Pocket [1] ~Lockpick [1] ~Balance [1] ~Swimming [2] Mysticism [0/3] --- Equipment~One handed sword ~Wooden round shield ~Two small daggers ~Leather and partial plate armor ~Stitched hide and linen clothes ~Prayer bead necklaces with symbols of Rán Money~1 Royal ~18 Lordlings ~40 Commons Languages~Northern Tongue ~Grim Northern ~Bits and pieces of many other tongues \| \| \|</s> <\|message\|>Kyiriniae'aea Kyiriniae'aea sagged with relief as the human mage stepped through the portal. She didn't much like humans, they could be powerful but their short roach like lives made them unpredictable and grasping. Still, given her other companions were literal cannibals, she supposed she could tolerate the arrival of so useful a pawn. "I did," she admitted, smiling winsomely and stepping forward, holding out her hand like a human noble so that the mage could take it and kiss it in the proscribed fashion. She made a gesture that encompassed room. "We are in a place called the Blackwood," she explained, taking a step back and gesturing to one of the chairs by the table in her newly cleaned study. The chaos had been put to right and she even had taken the time to properly set up the alchemical equipment in the corner. The tower still didn't quite look lived in, but it no longer resembled the ruin it had when she had first come in. "I'm afraid it was something of a desperation move," she confessed, her lip quivering ever so slightly to convey fear and vulnerability as she took her own seat. She badly wished she had some wine, but that would have to wait, instead she offered the human some of the roasted boar that her servants had brought her. "I am Kyiriniae'aea, though you may call me Kyra," she introduced herself. She chewed on the end of one of her long blonde locks for a moment before continuing. "I am afraid I have been cursed by a Warlock," she admitted, "and if you were willing to aid me, I would be forever in your debt."</s> <\|message\|>Emilio Virtoli Today was a reminder of why Emilio did not have a particular love of hilly countries. Truly it was an omen of bad business if the man had to get out of his cart and push it himself. Though perhaps it also spoke of necessity for other goods, as the stubborn would persist or unprepared fools would be in need of wares or in want of luxury. Those thoughts kept running through his mind repetition as he assessed the land idly for its goods and what needs he could meet. That was at least until they would finally be able to peer above the 'final' hill and see human form again after their hours of journey. The Dre Costan would work quickly to dust himself off. There was no time to change into more formal wear but he would be presentable for sure. Fixing his hair back and putting on a confident smile. By their way of dress it would have to be impossible to mistake them as anything other than the Knights of the Skull. A hand would pat his ass's head as he'd stride ahead. Cutting the sizable distance slowly as he spoke with a voice that would certainly reach the men. "Gentlemen, what a sight for our weary eyes! Straight from Varian's Crossing we've come here searching for Olderin's Refuge. I believe none could mistake you as anything other than its protectors." There was a certainty to his words. Strange one might think for being new travelers of Blackwood. "Any warnings, expectations, news you would wish to impart?" He'd ask as he kept his approach slow and closing the gap, cart behind. @POOHEAD189</s> <\|message\|>Name Ithaca blinked, turning to look behind her when the Draconic thing halted speaking, grunting in acknowledgment. Mari suddenly realized he was a Drogator, rumored to be a dying people. Other than a few stories of their ferocity in combat and some vague legends of them being from another world, she wouldn't know much. It was likely just surprising to see one in person. Unnverving likely. So much like a Dragon of legend, and yet somewhat similar to a man in a very eerie fashion. "Ah, you kept your word!" Ithaca said, clearly joking about being surprised. "I'm glad to see you up and about, and less smelly." She almost looked like she was going to pinch the bridge of her nose playfully, but decided to take a sip of the drink Mari got her instead. She had her priorities straight. It was clear she had already had a few, hence her stoic demeanor giving way to cutting loose a bit. "Allow me to introduce you. Kane, I would like you to meet Mari." She said, turning around on the stool to present them both to one another. "A very brave woman I met just today on the road. Mari, this is Kane. One of the most honorable fellows I've ever met. He seems tough, but throw a chicken breast and he'll chase after it like a dog." Mari heard a very threatening growl from the Drogator. It actually vibrated the wood beneath their feet. However, a moment to reflect would reveal it was actually chuckling. A few of the patrons, including a commoner couple clearly on a date gave small yelps of surprise. Comically, the girl looked at the guy she was with when she realized his voice sounded just like hers and he nearly fell out of his chair. One might not blame him but in the Blackwood, bravery was a virtue. "It is an honor to meet you." Kane said, bowing how he could in such armor. "What brings you to such a place?" "I was going to ask her that myself." Ithaca remarked, her chest facing the crowd and her elbows behind her, resting on the wood of the bar.</s> <\|message\|>Name The mad, squealing bray of the beast behind him was almost more haunting than it's very real charge not a minute earlier. Torsten's side bit at him with a stabbing pain that simultaneously ached like he had not felt in months. But it was nothing he couldn't handle, as long as he kept his posture at a certain level. Luckily for him, the forest allowed him to move hidden behind brush and gloom. Unfortunately, it also allowed other creatures to potentially do the same. The forests of Norgard were primordial and vast, and Torsten would not feel so unused to such thick woodland. The very roots of the towering trees ripped and shaped the very earth beneath his feet, making much of the ground uneven and misshapen, and the rest would be covered in bushes or thick grass that quieted the footsteps of whatever walked upon them. What was strange wasn't the thickness of the forest, but the dim lighting. Even a forest as great as this with such a large canopy above would have more sunlight cutting into the darkness. Doing his best not to stumble, Torsten would almost not see the sudden drop in the underbrush before it reached the front half of his leading foot. Likely to his surprise and horror, he would notice the drop was actually a footprint. A footprint as large as his torso and very humanoid in shape. Small roots and vines jutted out of the now softened earth below, as if gasping for air from whence they were pressed. Luckily (in a fashion), the accompanying war cry Torsten heard next didn't sound like it came from whatever Jotun or strange forest creature. It was a piercing scream that carried bloodlust wherever it echoed, spreading across what bits of the foliage it could. Judging by the echo, it likely came from the south. The birds springing to life and fluttering away mostly came from that direction as well. When the forest spoke, one need only listen.</s>	<\|message\|>Mari Mari had to force herself not to stare at the Drogator in fascination. It took her a moment to realize what he was. No doubt Kane was used to stares; his armor alone was enough to provoke gawking, to say nothing of the being encased inside it. He seemed friendly enough, if a little terrifying. She would hate to see how he looked as an enemy. She was mid-drink of her ale when Kane chuckled, and Mari nearly spat out a mouthful, but managed to contain herself, holding the back of her hand to her lips until she was sure she wasn't going to be an embarrassment. "Brave, or perhaps just stupid," she said, smiling broadly. "I serve Rán, the sea goddess. I'm on a pilgrimage to one of her oldest temples, here in the Blackwood. I'm to become her Ninth Daughter. If I can survive the rite of passage, that is." There was a chance they'd heard of the Daughters, if Ithaca and Kane were as well-traveled as they looked. The eldest of them had much fame in the Sea of Swords and even beyond, and while Mari had no legend to speak of yet, the name of the little group carried some weight. Perhaps not here, though. As far as Mari knew, the last time a Daughter of Rán entered the Blackwood was over twenty years ago, when the Eighth passed her initiation. "Thing is," she continued, "it's said that only Daughters of Rán can find and enter the temple, so I'm not sure if anyone here can help me." A few of the Daughters Mari had spoken with suspected that the temple actually moved somehow, and that old, powerful magic protected it from curious eyes and those that the Widow didn't care for. If she couldn't pick up on any lead, Mari felt she'd have to simply set out on her own, and hope the Goddess guided her.</s>
<\|description\|>Mari Marisaya Njalsdottir \|\| 20 \|\| Female Race Half-Elf (Silvari and Norgardian) Appearance Mari's undoubtedly a little small for a fighter, but moves with the grace and poise of someone who has had thorough training, if not a great deal of experience. She can easily pass for human even if her auburn red hair isn't covering her lightly pointed ears. Her eyes are a bright sea blue-green, and she typically gives off the look of someone still full of life and energy. She wears light armor, mostly embossed and studded leather that's probably more decorative than it is protective, with a minimum of cobbled-together plate. It's in Mari's interest to stay lightly geared, considering how often she finds herself on open water. Personality Mari is fierce, bold, and passionate, and a genuinely good woman at heart. She feels she has a great deal to make up for from her youth, and believes fully that the Daughters of Rán are her way to redemption. When working Mari is serious, focused, and efficient, and though at times self-doubt can slow her down, she has enough courage to forge ahead even when she suspects she might fail. Recently she has found meaning and purpose in helping others, and will gladly take up a worthy cause even at risk to her own safety or fortune. In quieter moments, Mari is fully capable of relaxing, unwinding, and sharing a drink and stories. She's not secretive about her past or her feelings, and finds that she connects with and empathizes easily with others. The Ninth Daughter of Rán --- Background~Aspiring Mercenary Priestess ~Lower Class, Criminal Background ~Daughter of a runaway Silvari noblewoman and a Norgardian smuggler HistoryMari has romantic origins, the result of a runaway Silvari girl fleeing an arranged marriage and a Norgardian smuggler that left his own homeland behind. She grew up in the Sea of Swords, and there the romance ended. Life as the daughter of a common smuggler was hardly easy, especially one like her father, who found himself in debt to powerful individuals. At twelve Mari found herself working to help pay off those debts, mostly to a criminal and pirate lord, an Izyrian named Ihsan. She worked for him and his crews, hopping islands and pickpocketing, thieving, spying, and eavesdropping. As she grew, she graduated to more direct assistance, and took some part in piracy and raids. It was all she knew at first, and Mari was talented and adventurous, albeit unsatisfied with the way her life was going. Everything changed at 18, when she was caught stealing from a woman named Asherah, First of the Daughters of Rán, a small but respected and even feared group of women sellswords. Often known by other names such as Sisters of the Sea or Witches of the Waves or simply the Sirens, the Daughters belonged to the clever and cunning sea-goddess Rán. The gifts she granted her Nine Daughters were not always extraordinary, but it was believed that the presence of a Daughter aboard a ship could well be the difference between a smooth voyage and a death at the hands of a passing leviathan or vicious storm. When Asherah unexpectedly took a liking to Mari, she felt the Goddess had guided them together. Rán's Daughters always numbered Nine, but recently one had passed, opening a place for Mari if she wanted it. Even knowing she'd be leaving her father on his own, not to mention making an enemy of Ihsan by betraying him, Mari accepted, and began two years of hard training with her new sisters, who protected her while she prepared to join their ranks. She learned slowly and with many mistakes, but learned all the same. The Daughters of Rán offered her a new way forward, one where she could be a better person, while still finding the adventure her heart desired. Now at the end of her training, Mari faces a rite of passage: venture into the Blackwood, alone, and make her way into the forgotten places with Rán's guidance, to find her hidden temple, a place supposedly only accessible to the Nine Daughters. There she will pray and accept the gifts the Goddess offers, seizing the power she feels she needs to fully make amends for her past. MotivationMari must find the Hidden Temple of Rán, hidden somewhere in the Blackwood, and complete her initiation into the Daughters of Rán. After that, she can follow where the waters take her, and sell her sword and skills to those she feels need it most. Witch of the Waves \| \| \| \| SkillsMari is a former thief attempting to remake herself as a proper warrior. Her abilities are spread thin between combat, knowledge, and underhanded skills. Combat [1/1]~Sword and Shield [1] ~Daggers [1] Intelligence [1/1]~Literacy [1] ~Religion [1] ~Geography [1] Charisma [1/1]~Diplomacy [2] Health [1/1]~Cold Resistance [1] Faculties [1/1]~Resolve [1] ~Perception [1] Agility [1/1]~Pick Pocket [1] ~Lockpick [1] ~Balance [1] ~Swimming [2] Mysticism [0/3] --- Equipment~One handed sword ~Wooden round shield ~Two small daggers ~Leather and partial plate armor ~Stitched hide and linen clothes ~Prayer bead necklaces with symbols of Rán Money~1 Royal ~18 Lordlings ~40 Commons Languages~Northern Tongue ~Grim Northern ~Bits and pieces of many other tongues \| \| \|</s> <\|message\|>Name The Iron Star remained bustling with patrons, though as the time moved on a bit there were a few men and women who had regained their feet and headed off before the night crowd showed up. The 'business' transaction that Cillian was attempting to overhear didn't quite catch his ear, but he could see their manner and clearly knew bits of information were being passed. If he chose to remain there and do or say nothing, whatever opportunity might be there would pass. But of course, opportunities abounded in Greybridge, and he could check on his companion at the moment who seemed to be deep in conversation with a certain Dwarf. The Dwarf in question had either a bit too much (which was saying something for his stout kind) or he simply didn't care to scrutinize too much. Perhaps he was depressed? But he believed Sylvaine, and it was clear from the way he raised his head from his frothing mug, curiosity evident under his bushy brows. Of course, once Sylvaine mentioned coin, he had a sudden look of skepticism and distrusts, but it wasn't overt. It was obvious he would at least think about the proposal, and he did just that, stroking his thick beard as he considered. "Couple o' silver..." He groaned quietly and looked at his drink again. He was thinking that he could be giving them a few silver to fail or run off while he could instead use it to buy more drinks. Luckily, his Dwarven sense of clan and duty overrode his Dwarven love of ale. He suddenly spoke up. "Fine. Four silver coins, and ye get me cousin back in the week. If ye don't, yer to find me here at midday and pay me back. If I never see ye again, it won't turn out good for ye. We Dwarves have a long memory and a short temper, understand?" It was clearly a threat, but at the end of his speech, it was clear he dare not hope they would find his cousin again, lest he feel even more depressed at the prospect of failure. He handed Sylvaine four silver Lordlings just as the Skayleigh got up from the booth that Cillian was watching, making her way past his table. Her mace lightly bumped the tableside. @Romero</s> <\|message\|>Name The two were Knights of the Skull. A secretive order known for their ferocity and unwavering endurance in a fight. With those swords, it looked as if they could deal a large amount of damage as well. Emilio's words were not heeded, at least at first. The two seemed to not move for a good ten seconds, and it was hard to tell where their eyes were within the slits of their great helms. Wēlanandaz warning broke the silence, and not a moment later did the two suddenly move. An eerie palor would fall over most who saw them suddenly move, as it looked as possible as two statues that decided they were tired of standing still. "Follow us." One said. Which one was hard to tell, but the two didn't seem to wait for you to gather your thoughts of explain any of the things Emilio asked. Mercifully, the ground was far less broken and hilly now. It seemed to be almost a straight shot forward, though the trees and thickets were ever reaching and prominent around them, sometimes twigs/leaves clinging to Emilio's robes or Wēlanandaz's beard. The donkey seemed at ease at least, though if they were to try and get nearer the Knights, the donkey seemed oddly reluctant. Around half an hour later, the Knights would suddenly halt and split apart to allow your cart to pass. As you near the two, the trees give way to a stout stone wall looming out of the forested path, earthworks having separated the wall from the forest by about a dozen feet. Before you is a large wooden gateway, already slowly opening for the two of you to enter. The men atop the wall don't seem to be Knights of the Skull, or at least full fledged members. However the two would certainly see a few of them training in a small yard left of the gate, clinging to the side of the keep that shot into the sky. Olderin's Refuge, if this truly was the place, seemed to be a lowly built castle settlement, with two large walls sweeping over the landscape like a snake trying to push its form outwards. The keep, and the backgate the two now entered, was within the inner wall. The outer wall faced the north where the greater blackwood was located. As they entered, they saw two important aristocrats (judging by their clothing) speaking to one another near the training Knights, and a few squires and servants carrying horses to the stables across the way. Perhaps they would be better served finding work on the outer settlement? Pajamas@Jb</s> <\|message\|>Name Rittenvos was merely an outpost, but the fact that so many people filled the common room of the inn, and earlier when Mari saw the lively market, showcased just how much travelers and explorers counted upon this small bastion of civilization. In order to keep the flow moving, adventurers and mercenaries were likely as needed as fresh water. Little surprise then when Ithaca brought Mari across the common room to the very low-end, shoddy table that was attached to the wall. Ithaca elbowed her way over and gave Mari space to step forward, and she found herself in the company of four people. Kane sat on the ground, for the chair wouldn't be able to keep him aloft without breaking. The beast of a warrior was likely twice the weight of an already big man. She could see his thick tail splayed out behind him, resting like the tail of a crocodile. Next to him was a far shorter but still very heavy and dense fellow, Orek. He had an air of mischief and intelligence to him, and again he seemed to be leaner than most would expect from Dwarves. Likely for his traveling lifestyle. His garb was leather and cloth, though undoubtedly he had finely wrought chainmail beneath his cloak. He smiled through his beard when he saw Ithaca walk over, his pipe in his teeth. "Oh, are ye coming with us lass? Or did ye bring someone to take yer place?" Orek asked slyly. Both Orek and Kane were on the right side of the table. On the left were two striking people. One was a lovely elven woman, her blonde hair tied in a bun, her shapely form in a kalasiris, a strange priestly robe. She seemed particularly haughty in nature, raising an eyebrow at Mari when she appeared. Beside her was Po, who was even more handsome up close. His eyes sparkled with a fire that promised humor and intellect, and his dark mane of hair was cut just halfway down his neck. He was likely tall, despite the fact he was seated. He gave a friendly smile, his full lips noticably on his tanned skin. "I know you'll be having a bit of a get together tomorrow. Seeing as I'm leaving, I thought I might give you a recommendation." Ithaca said, and Mari would be playfully pushed forward a bit by the Praelian. Apparently she was still a bit too tipsy to be completely professional. "Hey," Po said casually, and he held his hand out to Mari to shake. "You were the warrior that made it here today, from the southern road?" "The one that riled the Dragon?" The Elf pipped in. "No one riled the Dragon, pointy ear." Orek said. "'Least, no one here." "Phyrrae doesn't like other women cramping her style." Po joked, which caused the elf to clearly take offense at that suggestion, though she didn't speak immediately.</s>	<\|message\|>Mari Mari found herself pushed forward into a dashing group of adventurers, smiling a little awkwardly back at Ithaca. One of her sisters had fashioned her leathers, and while they were finely crafted, embossed and studded and fitted comfortably to her form, with swirling and twisting decorative elements of Norgardian design, Mari felt she was certainly the least impressive of this group. Kane and his plate armor she'd already encountered, but now she got a better look at the elven woman in her beautiful priestly robes. They were of Nestariel, the healer, or at least she thought, as the design was more exotic and archaic than other traveling priests she'd encountered before. Her gaze seemed to pierce through, but Mari paid it little mind. She was new, after all. The dwarf seemed friendly enough, Orek, and then there was Po, his hand outstretched towards her. "That's me," she said, giving it a shake. "My name's Mari, I've come from the Sea of Swords. I'm going to be here for a little while at least, so I thought I'd look for some opportunities." Her holy symbols of Rán were displayed openly hanging from her belts for the observant. She didn't laugh at Po's joke, only smiling a little, as she wasn't sure what the dynamic here was yet, and had no desire to turn the elven woman's disposition against her before they'd even begun. "I can pull my own weight in a fight and in the wild, if you'll have me."</s>
<\|description\|>Mari Marisaya Njalsdottir \|\| 20 \|\| Female Race Half-Elf (Silvari and Norgardian) Appearance Mari's undoubtedly a little small for a fighter, but moves with the grace and poise of someone who has had thorough training, if not a great deal of experience. She can easily pass for human even if her auburn red hair isn't covering her lightly pointed ears. Her eyes are a bright sea blue-green, and she typically gives off the look of someone still full of life and energy. She wears light armor, mostly embossed and studded leather that's probably more decorative than it is protective, with a minimum of cobbled-together plate. It's in Mari's interest to stay lightly geared, considering how often she finds herself on open water. Personality Mari is fierce, bold, and passionate, and a genuinely good woman at heart. She feels she has a great deal to make up for from her youth, and believes fully that the Daughters of Rán are her way to redemption. When working Mari is serious, focused, and efficient, and though at times self-doubt can slow her down, she has enough courage to forge ahead even when she suspects she might fail. Recently she has found meaning and purpose in helping others, and will gladly take up a worthy cause even at risk to her own safety or fortune. In quieter moments, Mari is fully capable of relaxing, unwinding, and sharing a drink and stories. She's not secretive about her past or her feelings, and finds that she connects with and empathizes easily with others. The Ninth Daughter of Rán --- Background~Aspiring Mercenary Priestess ~Lower Class, Criminal Background ~Daughter of a runaway Silvari noblewoman and a Norgardian smuggler HistoryMari has romantic origins, the result of a runaway Silvari girl fleeing an arranged marriage and a Norgardian smuggler that left his own homeland behind. She grew up in the Sea of Swords, and there the romance ended. Life as the daughter of a common smuggler was hardly easy, especially one like her father, who found himself in debt to powerful individuals. At twelve Mari found herself working to help pay off those debts, mostly to a criminal and pirate lord, an Izyrian named Ihsan. She worked for him and his crews, hopping islands and pickpocketing, thieving, spying, and eavesdropping. As she grew, she graduated to more direct assistance, and took some part in piracy and raids. It was all she knew at first, and Mari was talented and adventurous, albeit unsatisfied with the way her life was going. Everything changed at 18, when she was caught stealing from a woman named Asherah, First of the Daughters of Rán, a small but respected and even feared group of women sellswords. Often known by other names such as Sisters of the Sea or Witches of the Waves or simply the Sirens, the Daughters belonged to the clever and cunning sea-goddess Rán. The gifts she granted her Nine Daughters were not always extraordinary, but it was believed that the presence of a Daughter aboard a ship could well be the difference between a smooth voyage and a death at the hands of a passing leviathan or vicious storm. When Asherah unexpectedly took a liking to Mari, she felt the Goddess had guided them together. Rán's Daughters always numbered Nine, but recently one had passed, opening a place for Mari if she wanted it. Even knowing she'd be leaving her father on his own, not to mention making an enemy of Ihsan by betraying him, Mari accepted, and began two years of hard training with her new sisters, who protected her while she prepared to join their ranks. She learned slowly and with many mistakes, but learned all the same. The Daughters of Rán offered her a new way forward, one where she could be a better person, while still finding the adventure her heart desired. Now at the end of her training, Mari faces a rite of passage: venture into the Blackwood, alone, and make her way into the forgotten places with Rán's guidance, to find her hidden temple, a place supposedly only accessible to the Nine Daughters. There she will pray and accept the gifts the Goddess offers, seizing the power she feels she needs to fully make amends for her past. MotivationMari must find the Hidden Temple of Rán, hidden somewhere in the Blackwood, and complete her initiation into the Daughters of Rán. After that, she can follow where the waters take her, and sell her sword and skills to those she feels need it most. Witch of the Waves \| \| \| \| SkillsMari is a former thief attempting to remake herself as a proper warrior. Her abilities are spread thin between combat, knowledge, and underhanded skills. Combat [1/1]~Sword and Shield [1] ~Daggers [1] Intelligence [1/1]~Literacy [1] ~Religion [1] ~Geography [1] Charisma [1/1]~Diplomacy [2] Health [1/1]~Cold Resistance [1] Faculties [1/1]~Resolve [1] ~Perception [1] Agility [1/1]~Pick Pocket [1] ~Lockpick [1] ~Balance [1] ~Swimming [2] Mysticism [0/3] --- Equipment~One handed sword ~Wooden round shield ~Two small daggers ~Leather and partial plate armor ~Stitched hide and linen clothes ~Prayer bead necklaces with symbols of Rán Money~1 Royal ~18 Lordlings ~40 Commons Languages~Northern Tongue ~Grim Northern ~Bits and pieces of many other tongues \| \| \|</s> <\|message\|>Emilio Virtoli Hearing = 4 + 1 = 5 (Got response from Poohead already) Charm = 7 + 1 = 8 "See? They wouldn't hurt respectable fellows like ourselves!" Emilio would proudly declare as they were escorted along the path forward. There was some part of him that was glad they no longer had to push the cart along, but also less than happy as the brush was thick and dirtied his outfit. If this was common certainly there was an opportunity to be a washer of clothes right? Wherever there are towns there are royals in need. It was a thought he held aside from wondering what the landscape itself held, and what business was ripe with opportunity. Truly if people were terrified of coming here there had to be untapped potential. Lumber certainly would be in no short supply, though he'd have to get an arbor's opinion on its qualities. With all the hills there had to be at least a few deposits of ores in the area that had to be of some worth. Perhaps he could work out something with the ferryman if this place itself was lacking in professionals. Paying for their transport at discounted prices in exchange for each man's expertise. Such ambitions would have to wait as they'd have to work up some funds, and certainly get Wēlanandaz a proper forge again at the least. His theories got disoriented slightly as they finally came out of the thicket and could lay eyes properly on the wall in front of them. Walled in protection was certainly a boon, but it immediately ripped away the idea of a 'town' as he had thought of it before. Space was ever in demand in these places and that certainly could be a hinderance, especially depending on how these folk valued coin. Though all the same it left room for specialty, causing the man's mind to race once more. A few pats on his donkey's head would be a reward for now having helped them make it this far. His eyes would immediately scan inside as the gate lifted, trying to get a scope of Olderin's Refuge. Immediate of note was the lack of 'buildings' in this section. This was obviously property of the Knights of the Skull, and likely the occupants further inside would have better answers of what service exactly they provided and at what cost. His immediate business thoughts would be set aside however at the eyeing and listening in to the two seemingly 'nobles' of this area. Or at least what passed for nobles. He'd curse silently at the brush that had dirtied his clothes on the way here, as he quickly worked to get what matter of foliage lay stuck to him off. Had he more time he would of changed into his good clothes, but that sort of sight now would be unseemly. He'd have to kick it up a notch with his words to make up for his lackluster appearance was his obvious thought. "I'll handle this one Wēlanandaz, see if there's anything we can sort out or lock in agreements for. Perhaps they can help us find a place to settle in for the night as well." He would mutter softly to his companion before striding forth, not one to dilly dally and await a reply. As with everything, he would walk with flair into their view before announcing himself. "Gentlemen gentlemen, please pardon my intrusion into your conversation. I couldn't help but overhear your current woes. Me and my companions-" A hand would give a stroke to the donkey's head. "Are but recent arrivals who wish to cure your worries in what ways we can. I heard some fine men have gone missing? Alas, were I more skilled with my blade I would venture out myself and thrash whatever foul miscreant or miscreation was responsible. What I can offer however is mine and my friend's services. Ah, but let me introduce us so that you might understand." The Dre Costan would puff out his chest slightly as he made ready to add all the more gestures to the introduction. "Emilio Virtoli, merchant and intellectual of the Dre Costan nation. Behind is my quite capable and sturdy companion Wēlanandaz, skilled smith who knows his way around almost anything you throw at him. Finally, our reliable pack animal Bertillo who carries the burdens of our work." A smile would flash as he happily introduced each of them. "Alas, I would be more than happy to help ensure ample supply and good steel in fine fashion was of the men's use, but do you know how heavy all the things for a forge are?" His voice seemed to turn quite dramatic, his face and actions following in quick fashion as he certainly exaggerated for effect. "I'm sure my dwarf friend could give you quite the answer, though he'd as quickly call me a weakling for complaining of such as his people are built as mountains!" A laugh was added on as he quickly shifted tone with each line. "Anyways, not to drag on too much but if you wish something could certainly be arranged I imagine to help render our services." @JB</s> <\|message\|>Name Po gave her a smile in return and held out his hand to shake. If she took it she would feel his hand was strong and callused from some sort of labor. "If Ithaca vouches for you, you're more than welcome honestly. Besides, you have the look of someone who's done their share of traveling. Let me-" Po got up and turned, gnabbing a loose chair from out of the crowd that Mari wouldn't have noticed before from another table. As he did, Phyrrae sipped her drink languidly. Orek's smile spread at Mari, revealing two golden teeth. "Don't be nervous. We're no' what you might call a daring group of adventurers. Ye'll do just fine." Phyrrae nearly jumped when Po pointed at Orek, his finger thrusting past her face. "Oh, come on! Mari, this dwarf is the most famous adventurer within four hundred miles. Probably further." Po looked like he was a huge fanboy at that moment, suddenly giving off an air of a wide eyed boy rather than the rakish man he might look when you only get a glimpse of him. For his part, the Dwarf just waved him off, spouting off some small excuse as to why that was just youthful blathering. Ithaca leaned over Mari's shoulder. "It's true, that Dwarf has been to twice as many places as me in the Blackwood, and we've been here around the same time. Don't let him downplay it." "If no one will speak of where we are going, then I will!" Boomed Kane. Phyrrae, who was attempting to sip her drink for a third time, flinched and the alcohol sloshed off onto the table. Her eyes flared and shot at Kane, but the Drogotar was already too far into beginning what they came to speak about. "Orek here has told us that he may have found the Forge of Gandelyn the Smith, who wrought the Seven Runic Rings! This is an endeavor worthy of remembrance!" Po had placed his hands over his ears. It was true the tavern was loud, but being so close to a humanoid so large, it could reverberate one's eardrums quite easily. "Yeah..." He remarked, lowering his hands and blinking. "If even one of those rings is there, it could be significant in over a dozen ways."</s>	<\|message\|>Mari Mari took Po's hand and shook, then accepted the chair he brought over for her, feeling a little more relaxed as each moment passed. They all seemed friendly enough, this group, save for the elf, but she was starting to suspect the woman was like that towards everyone. She smiled at the others singing the dwarf's praises, eventually leaning back in her chair and lifting one leg over the other. She jumped, however, at the booming voice of Kane, though she ended up laughing nervously a few moments later. "The Forge? Gandelyn the Smith? Seven Runic Rings?" she repeated, looking from one group member to the next. "I'm not familiar, I'm afraid." If she had to guess, it was some sort of dwarven thing. Dwarves weren't all that common in the Sea of Swords, really. The waters often didn't agree with them, as they preferred the bellies of mountains to that of the seas. "If that significance includes a bit of coin, I'm happy to tag along and help out." It was perhaps the most adventurer job she'd ever had the opportunity to join, the only motivation being the promise of some significant artifact, and the journey requiring a group to delve into forgotten places, full of unknown dangers. Sounded like fun, really.</s>
<\|description\|>Mari Marisaya Njalsdottir \|\| 20 \|\| Female Race Half-Elf (Silvari and Norgardian) Appearance Mari's undoubtedly a little small for a fighter, but moves with the grace and poise of someone who has had thorough training, if not a great deal of experience. She can easily pass for human even if her auburn red hair isn't covering her lightly pointed ears. Her eyes are a bright sea blue-green, and she typically gives off the look of someone still full of life and energy. She wears light armor, mostly embossed and studded leather that's probably more decorative than it is protective, with a minimum of cobbled-together plate. It's in Mari's interest to stay lightly geared, considering how often she finds herself on open water. Personality Mari is fierce, bold, and passionate, and a genuinely good woman at heart. She feels she has a great deal to make up for from her youth, and believes fully that the Daughters of Rán are her way to redemption. When working Mari is serious, focused, and efficient, and though at times self-doubt can slow her down, she has enough courage to forge ahead even when she suspects she might fail. Recently she has found meaning and purpose in helping others, and will gladly take up a worthy cause even at risk to her own safety or fortune. In quieter moments, Mari is fully capable of relaxing, unwinding, and sharing a drink and stories. She's not secretive about her past or her feelings, and finds that she connects with and empathizes easily with others. The Ninth Daughter of Rán --- Background~Aspiring Mercenary Priestess ~Lower Class, Criminal Background ~Daughter of a runaway Silvari noblewoman and a Norgardian smuggler HistoryMari has romantic origins, the result of a runaway Silvari girl fleeing an arranged marriage and a Norgardian smuggler that left his own homeland behind. She grew up in the Sea of Swords, and there the romance ended. Life as the daughter of a common smuggler was hardly easy, especially one like her father, who found himself in debt to powerful individuals. At twelve Mari found herself working to help pay off those debts, mostly to a criminal and pirate lord, an Izyrian named Ihsan. She worked for him and his crews, hopping islands and pickpocketing, thieving, spying, and eavesdropping. As she grew, she graduated to more direct assistance, and took some part in piracy and raids. It was all she knew at first, and Mari was talented and adventurous, albeit unsatisfied with the way her life was going. Everything changed at 18, when she was caught stealing from a woman named Asherah, First of the Daughters of Rán, a small but respected and even feared group of women sellswords. Often known by other names such as Sisters of the Sea or Witches of the Waves or simply the Sirens, the Daughters belonged to the clever and cunning sea-goddess Rán. The gifts she granted her Nine Daughters were not always extraordinary, but it was believed that the presence of a Daughter aboard a ship could well be the difference between a smooth voyage and a death at the hands of a passing leviathan or vicious storm. When Asherah unexpectedly took a liking to Mari, she felt the Goddess had guided them together. Rán's Daughters always numbered Nine, but recently one had passed, opening a place for Mari if she wanted it. Even knowing she'd be leaving her father on his own, not to mention making an enemy of Ihsan by betraying him, Mari accepted, and began two years of hard training with her new sisters, who protected her while she prepared to join their ranks. She learned slowly and with many mistakes, but learned all the same. The Daughters of Rán offered her a new way forward, one where she could be a better person, while still finding the adventure her heart desired. Now at the end of her training, Mari faces a rite of passage: venture into the Blackwood, alone, and make her way into the forgotten places with Rán's guidance, to find her hidden temple, a place supposedly only accessible to the Nine Daughters. There she will pray and accept the gifts the Goddess offers, seizing the power she feels she needs to fully make amends for her past. MotivationMari must find the Hidden Temple of Rán, hidden somewhere in the Blackwood, and complete her initiation into the Daughters of Rán. After that, she can follow where the waters take her, and sell her sword and skills to those she feels need it most. Witch of the Waves \| \| \| \| SkillsMari is a former thief attempting to remake herself as a proper warrior. Her abilities are spread thin between combat, knowledge, and underhanded skills. Combat [1/1]~Sword and Shield [1] ~Daggers [1] Intelligence [1/1]~Literacy [1] ~Religion [1] ~Geography [1] Charisma [1/1]~Diplomacy [2] Health [1/1]~Cold Resistance [1] Faculties [1/1]~Resolve [1] ~Perception [1] Agility [1/1]~Pick Pocket [1] ~Lockpick [1] ~Balance [1] ~Swimming [2] Mysticism [0/3] --- Equipment~One handed sword ~Wooden round shield ~Two small daggers ~Leather and partial plate armor ~Stitched hide and linen clothes ~Prayer bead necklaces with symbols of Rán Money~1 Royal ~18 Lordlings ~40 Commons Languages~Northern Tongue ~Grim Northern ~Bits and pieces of many other tongues \| \| \|</s> <\|message\|>Cillian Kindellan Cillian had risen to his feet as he spoke, and as the unusual pair turned to look at him, he took a tentative step closer to their table, the well-rehearsed smile never leaving his face. If nothing else, his introduction seemed to distract the pair from squabbling over the fat coin purse, and that was as good a start as any. The pause in bickering was only short-lived, and Cillian quickly got the impression that the elf and the gnome were old friends, arguing back and forth, each looking to gain the upper hand. Cillian's smile didn't falter, but behind the pale blue eyes, his mind was racing to keep up with the overlapping intricacies of the conversation. He had the distinct feeling that he was being played, the pair perhaps sniffing out the oppurtunity that a fumbling newcomer might present. He had names now at least, but even those set him ill at ease. The elf was Saskia, and the gnome Calvin, but it had been the gnome's reaction that had surprised Cillian. Was it simply being introduced as a sidekick that had taken him by surprise, or was it the name itself? Before Cillian could ponder too long on the thought, his mind caught up with his ears, and he realised that the pair were looking at him expectantly. Ever the showman, Cillian grinned widely again as he spread his arms wide. Perhaps the pair were looking to swindle him, or perhaps it was simply idle curiosity, but whatever the reason, they had agreed to be his audience, and Cillian had never been one to walk away from a willing audience. Taverns had been his stage countless times in the past, and despite the unfamiliarity of the city beyond the building's walls, the bard was in his element, the fire behind his eyes slowly flickering into a blaze as he spoke. "I have many tales to tell, if you only have the time, but it is a tale that I cannot yet tell that has brought me to this fair city. Ever since I was a boy, clinging to my mother's skirts, I was haunted by dreams of darkness. But this was not the darkness that plagues all children, the darkness of shadows and things that go bump in the night, this darkness was deep, and it called my name. It was only as I grew older, and heard the tales and legends of the world, that I learned the name of that darkness. The Blackwood. Ever since that day, the darkness has continued to call to me, and although my path has been long and winding, I always knew that it would eventually lead me here. The inky darkness waits on the other side of the raging waters, and I know that my fate lies within it. I am a man of legends and grand tales, and the Blackwood will grant me my greatest stories, I need only for someone to strike the first match. Friends, the two of you strike me as seasoned travellers, familiar with these parts. I wonder then, if your paths have ever led you beyond the water, and into the darkness beyond..." Cillian allowed himself to tail off, the sound of his own heart pounding in his ears, a single pale eyebrow raised towards the pair. He hoped that his hunch was correct, that the unusual pair would not be lingering in Greybridge without having travelled into the Blackwood, or at least know the tales of those that had. Perhaps this was a dead end, perhaps it would simply an oppurtunity to waste away some time, but Cillian could not shake the clinging sense that there was something else here, something more. Attempt to charm the unlikely pair, in hopes that it might loosen lips (Charm) = 3 + 1 = 4</s> <\|message\|>Name It did indeed have coin involved, she would soon find out. Any ring recaptured by them sold for twelve thousand silver lordlings, which equated to six hundred gold royals Orek was quick to point out. Any information on their whereabouts was also richly sought after. Were Mari to attempt to perceive, she might try and deduce who sought what from the rings. Of course, asking them was always an easy choice as well. The night did not last much longer, at least for most of the folk. The party died down soon after, and though the troupe stayed up into the night, darkness enshrouding their visages as they drank and spoke, even they began to grow weary. Phyrrae was the first to decide it was time to call it a night, though she decided it was even more prudent to go and order a few drinks for the journey in case they needed a little loosening up after a victory for celebration, so she now stood at the bar alone, awaiting the bartender to return from another duty. Orek and Kane stayed where they were, speaking in low murmurs in their ancient tongue. Pipe and dragon smoke wafted around them, and any who sat near them would feel a very ancient conversation and feel as one might when listening to a tale of old. Kane had devoured an entire chicken earlier, and Orek near matched him. The old Dwarf seemed to know far more than any in the place, and perhaps more than anyone Mari had ever met. There was something in his eyes that spoke of untapped experience along with not an insufficient amount of cleverness. Po had taken to speaking with Ithaca for a brief period on one of the newly vacated tables at the center of the room. However, Ithaca was one of the ones who needed to find sleep early. That left Po at the table, having found himself drawn into an old book with leather bindings, a dragon mark being the only noticeable aspect of the cover. Beside him was his walking staff and a jug of water he idly sipped. Before Ithaca had left for bed, she approached Mari and gave her a smile. She looked between her and the others. "I know we only just met, but I feel like you're the responsible one. Keep an eye on them." The warrior said. Placing a hand on Mari's shoulder, she clapped it powerfully. "Stay out of trouble too. If you're alive in two weeks, I'll buy you another drink." With that, Ithaca made her way up stairs to bed. The night grew darker as the outside lights were snuffed out, and now Mari saw three lights within the room. One at the table with Orek and Kane, another light above Po, and the third beside the lounging Phyrrae across the room. Would she go to any of them? Or go to sleep?</s>	<\|message\|>Mari It was the first pleasant night Mari felt she'd had since setting out on her own, and she couldn't help but hope this new little arrangement with this group worked out. Not indefinitely, of course, but she didn't imagine she'd find what she was after quickly, and it would help to have pleasant company while she struggled through the Blackwood. "If, huh?" she shot back at Ithaca with a raised eyebrow. "Count on it." She'd drank her way to a pleasant buzz and warmth, and knew it wouldn't be wise to have any more, especially with her first real venture into the woods the next day. Rather than immediately turn in, though, she cleared her throat and headed towards one of the tables. "Hey, Po?" She offered an apologetic smile for interrupting his reading, before she sank heavily onto one of the chairs. A hand lifted, fingers threading through red hair at the back of her neck, subconsciously pushing it over her half-pointed left ear. Old habit. "Ithaca mentioned earlier that you know a lot of the old lore here." She lifted a leg, bringing her knee up and resting her foot on the seat of her chair. "The reward for this sounds nice and all, but I don't think I can actually buy what I'm looking for here with gold." She lowered her hand from her neck and slipped her fingers beneath the holy symbols on the necklace tied around her belt. "I'm looking for a lost temple dedicated to Rán, the sea goddess. I'll become the youngest of her Daughters if I can find it, and survive whatever awaits me." She didn't actually know if there would be more trials inside the temple, or if finding the temple was itself the trial, but Mari had learned by now to prepare for the harder road. "Have you ever heard of something like that? A temple magically hidden, maybe even moving?"</s>
<\|description\|>Mari Marisaya Njalsdottir \|\| 20 \|\| Female Race Half-Elf (Silvari and Norgardian) Appearance Mari's undoubtedly a little small for a fighter, but moves with the grace and poise of someone who has had thorough training, if not a great deal of experience. She can easily pass for human even if her auburn red hair isn't covering her lightly pointed ears. Her eyes are a bright sea blue-green, and she typically gives off the look of someone still full of life and energy. She wears light armor, mostly embossed and studded leather that's probably more decorative than it is protective, with a minimum of cobbled-together plate. It's in Mari's interest to stay lightly geared, considering how often she finds herself on open water. Personality Mari is fierce, bold, and passionate, and a genuinely good woman at heart. She feels she has a great deal to make up for from her youth, and believes fully that the Daughters of Rán are her way to redemption. When working Mari is serious, focused, and efficient, and though at times self-doubt can slow her down, she has enough courage to forge ahead even when she suspects she might fail. Recently she has found meaning and purpose in helping others, and will gladly take up a worthy cause even at risk to her own safety or fortune. In quieter moments, Mari is fully capable of relaxing, unwinding, and sharing a drink and stories. She's not secretive about her past or her feelings, and finds that she connects with and empathizes easily with others. The Ninth Daughter of Rán --- Background~Aspiring Mercenary Priestess ~Lower Class, Criminal Background ~Daughter of a runaway Silvari noblewoman and a Norgardian smuggler HistoryMari has romantic origins, the result of a runaway Silvari girl fleeing an arranged marriage and a Norgardian smuggler that left his own homeland behind. She grew up in the Sea of Swords, and there the romance ended. Life as the daughter of a common smuggler was hardly easy, especially one like her father, who found himself in debt to powerful individuals. At twelve Mari found herself working to help pay off those debts, mostly to a criminal and pirate lord, an Izyrian named Ihsan. She worked for him and his crews, hopping islands and pickpocketing, thieving, spying, and eavesdropping. As she grew, she graduated to more direct assistance, and took some part in piracy and raids. It was all she knew at first, and Mari was talented and adventurous, albeit unsatisfied with the way her life was going. Everything changed at 18, when she was caught stealing from a woman named Asherah, First of the Daughters of Rán, a small but respected and even feared group of women sellswords. Often known by other names such as Sisters of the Sea or Witches of the Waves or simply the Sirens, the Daughters belonged to the clever and cunning sea-goddess Rán. The gifts she granted her Nine Daughters were not always extraordinary, but it was believed that the presence of a Daughter aboard a ship could well be the difference between a smooth voyage and a death at the hands of a passing leviathan or vicious storm. When Asherah unexpectedly took a liking to Mari, she felt the Goddess had guided them together. Rán's Daughters always numbered Nine, but recently one had passed, opening a place for Mari if she wanted it. Even knowing she'd be leaving her father on his own, not to mention making an enemy of Ihsan by betraying him, Mari accepted, and began two years of hard training with her new sisters, who protected her while she prepared to join their ranks. She learned slowly and with many mistakes, but learned all the same. The Daughters of Rán offered her a new way forward, one where she could be a better person, while still finding the adventure her heart desired. Now at the end of her training, Mari faces a rite of passage: venture into the Blackwood, alone, and make her way into the forgotten places with Rán's guidance, to find her hidden temple, a place supposedly only accessible to the Nine Daughters. There she will pray and accept the gifts the Goddess offers, seizing the power she feels she needs to fully make amends for her past. MotivationMari must find the Hidden Temple of Rán, hidden somewhere in the Blackwood, and complete her initiation into the Daughters of Rán. After that, she can follow where the waters take her, and sell her sword and skills to those she feels need it most. Witch of the Waves \| \| \| \| SkillsMari is a former thief attempting to remake herself as a proper warrior. Her abilities are spread thin between combat, knowledge, and underhanded skills. Combat [1/1]~Sword and Shield [1] ~Daggers [1] Intelligence [1/1]~Literacy [1] ~Religion [1] ~Geography [1] Charisma [1/1]~Diplomacy [2] Health [1/1]~Cold Resistance [1] Faculties [1/1]~Resolve [1] ~Perception [1] Agility [1/1]~Pick Pocket [1] ~Lockpick [1] ~Balance [1] ~Swimming [2] Mysticism [0/3] --- Equipment~One handed sword ~Wooden round shield ~Two small daggers ~Leather and partial plate armor ~Stitched hide and linen clothes ~Prayer bead necklaces with symbols of Rán Money~1 Royal ~18 Lordlings ~40 Commons Languages~Northern Tongue ~Grim Northern ~Bits and pieces of many other tongues \| \| \|</s> <\|message\|>Dyla Roots Dyla frowned. The Blackwood had not been as fun as in her daydreams. She didn't think it would be easy, but her imaginings had always been about fighting monsters, or unearthing lost treasure. Instead, the big problem of the Blackwood had been finding stuff to eat. She missed pumpkin pie. She was hoping the inn would be a welcome change, and now the first lady they met was telling them there was no room! But an inn was the place where she could find leads on treasure. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more Dyla was certain her entire adventure depended on getting into that inn. Or maybe she just didn't want to sleep in a barn. Charm: 6 (3+3) "Are you sure there's no room in the inn?" Dyla looked up at the pretty woman with the broom. "I don't take up much space, you know." Remembering Arden, and feeling a bit foolish, she added: "My bigger friend might, but he won't be any trouble. He's gentle. And," smirking now, "I'd bet he'd buy a lot of the ale!" She wasn't even sure how true that was, but if she was lying, isn't it for a good cause?</s> <\|message\|>Name The dim lighting gave the room a feel of 'winding down' to some, but Po seemed alert, if not relaxed. He was evidently very consumed by the book he read. That was, until Mari settled down at his table. He blinked and looked up when she smiled. He gave a bright smile back to showcase he wasn't annoyed at her wanting to speak to him. He put a bookmark in the leather bound tome and set it aside before regarding her. "Hey, it's no problem. We're going to be traveling together so it's probably good we talk a bit." he replied. He crossed his toned arms on the table, leaning on them. In the lighting, the caramel of his skin seemed an even deeper hue. The young man looked at the table, deep in thought as he considered her question. "A sister of Rán?" He echoed to himself, and then his dark eyes turned to meet hers. "You're one of them? Er, um looking to be?" He scratched the back of his head, ruffling his thick head of black hair. "I've never heard of a temple moving..." Po knew the ins and outs of most of this quadrant of the Blackwood, though that was a lot to retain in his mind, particularly considering how late it was. It took him a moment to next speak until his eyes brightened. "Wait, yes. Not a moving temple, but I do remember there being a rumor of a water temple with some sort of religious significance fairly close, actually. It's uh-" He turned around, opening up his knapsack. After ruffling around it a moment, he pulled out a sheet of paper and a quill. He dipped it in some ink, eyes glancing her way. "Sorry," He chuckled breathlessly. "I'm not very good at explaining things after I've had a few. It's when I've had more than a few that I start rambling. Here..." For a commoner, he had very smooth strokes of the hand, making what she would find out was a map in a lavish style of sweeping black ink. Po took only a brief minute with his map, and though it was basic it was certainly better than nothing. On second glance, it attributed a lot of various obstacles and pathways before her. He moved his chair closer to hers, setting down and sliding the map between. "Ok so...we're here...and we'll be moving north..." His finger traced over a path that broke through what was a heavily wooded area, passed a bog and astride a few smaller mountains to what looked to be riverlands. "The last I heard of any water temple, it was actually pretty close to where I think we're going. Orek knows the path far better than me, but he probably can't help with your temple. I'm pretty sure it's supposed to be northeast of where the fabled rings are." He turned and looked at her to gauge if she found his advice helpful. "I also hear the doors to the place are locked by some spell, but who knows what's really going on there? Maybe you'll find something to help you where we're headed?"</s> <\|message\|>Name The tavern halted. The low music and the clinking of glass were the only sounds that graced the room after Cillian had spoken. It seemed his story and way with words left the room in rapt-fascination, and to anyone it would have been comical to look at the two patrons that he was speaking to. Calvin had wide eyes, looking to and fro between Cillian and Saskia to see what his companion thought. For her part, Saskia looked equal parts impressed, dumbfounded, and a little weirded out. "Um..." She began. "No, not me." Calvin said, waving his hands and shaking his head. "I'm just a city boy." "I've been there." Saskia nodded, clearing her throat. "Not for very long, but I've had to travel through there once with a caravan. Ran into a few beasts that I'd rather not run into again. Were you wanting to know what lies west of here? I could regaile you myself but..." She raised an eyebrow, a hand with tantilizing fingers curling toward's Cillian. "my memory is a little fuzzy...maybe a silver Lordling could listen my lips?" "Two silver lordlings?" Calvin piped in with a wink. Saskia elbowed him gently, but not too gently. She glared at him. "I have the information, I'm the one getting a lordling. He's a smart man, yes?" Her last sentence had her looking back at him, lips curved into a smile. "Information is my trade. I may lie, but never when I do business." Charm roll from Saskia: 4+2=6. You can contest and roll willpower if you so choose. Or you can trust her.</s> <\|message\|>Torsten Meier The sunlight cut through the forest like a razor sharp sword pierces one's torso. The pain in Torsten's side had improved. It wasn't as bad as he anticipated, but he'd been injured before and the pain was tolerable. He knew he was lucky to be alive and knew he needed to keep moving. He figured he would be healed in a day or two; hopefully. Breakfast was decent. Oz caught some rabbit and the three sucked on the juicy bits. Torsten inhaled his portion as he was quite famished. Lord knows he needed the protein in the meat. After sterilizing the campsite as best they could, they ventured further to the south in order to continue their trek into the unknown. Conversation was light, about nothing in particular. They focused more on the sights and sounds of the forest around them. Their hunter's ears were tuned in and didn't want to be surprised. Torsten took the trail slot in the column as Oz, the largest took center. He allows the lighter Ulf Gunnerson or Wolf to take the point. Wolf was an agile hunter, quick on his feet. He would be able to evade an attack faster than the others. Torsten removed his bow, notched an arrow and prepared for whatever might present itself upon the trail ahead. It didn't take long for a situation to appear. A scream of sorts erupted in their ears. All three men prepared for a battle, not knowing what was coming. It just didn't sound like the orcs they dealt with the day prior. Oz removed the 5' 6" two-handed sword from its scabbard and held it at the ready on his right side. He was prepared to bring pain upon any foe who threatened him. Wolf removed his shield from his back, securing it to his left arm and a small sword in his right. He held the left side of the trail. Between the two and three steps to the rear was Torsten with his bow up and read to draw. The odd fellow stumbling over the undergrowth in front of them was more bulbous than sinewy. All three men breathed a sigh of relief realizing they would not have to kill this one. The man was in a panic paying more attention to the auburn-haired young woman chasing him. Her hair was cut short, more like a man, than a woman, Oz thought. Torsten found her mildly attractive and Wolf wondered how quickly he could dispatch both to the underworld. "Stop!" Torsten yelled at the pair, who seemingly halted all movement, freezing in their steps looking up at the trio of northerners who barred their path. "What are you doing here?!"</s>	<\|message\|>Mari In truth, Mari was a little taken aback by how much Po seemed to know. She hadn't expected to learn anything useful when she asked, and now that she had a crude map drawn up for her, she still didn't quite believe it. It couldn't be that easy, right? It had to be the wrong temple, or it had to be more difficult to find than it seemed. Only one way to find out, of course. "Maybe," she answered, putting a finger on the map and sliding it closer to her. Her eyes didn't leave it, studying the bits Po added to it one by one. "Just more to look forward to tomorrow, I guess." She was certain her excitement was slipping through. At this point even a fight didn't sound too bad, if it meant she might learn something about her goal. "Okay," she said, nodding and taking the map, folding it up neatly. "I should probably get some rest, then. Long day ahead of us tomorrow." She slid her chair back and got to her feet. "Thank you, Po. And good night." She turned to head to her room and made it one step before she turned back. "Oh, and it's... Daughter of Rán. Not sister. We're just sisters to each other. Um." She paused, and then nodded again. "Good night!" Reddening a little, she turned and headed off towards her room, intent on sleeping off the ale before she had to go adventuring.</s>
<\|description\|>Mari Marisaya Njalsdottir \|\| 20 \|\| Female Race Half-Elf (Silvari and Norgardian) Appearance Mari's undoubtedly a little small for a fighter, but moves with the grace and poise of someone who has had thorough training, if not a great deal of experience. She can easily pass for human even if her auburn red hair isn't covering her lightly pointed ears. Her eyes are a bright sea blue-green, and she typically gives off the look of someone still full of life and energy. She wears light armor, mostly embossed and studded leather that's probably more decorative than it is protective, with a minimum of cobbled-together plate. It's in Mari's interest to stay lightly geared, considering how often she finds herself on open water. Personality Mari is fierce, bold, and passionate, and a genuinely good woman at heart. She feels she has a great deal to make up for from her youth, and believes fully that the Daughters of Rán are her way to redemption. When working Mari is serious, focused, and efficient, and though at times self-doubt can slow her down, she has enough courage to forge ahead even when she suspects she might fail. Recently she has found meaning and purpose in helping others, and will gladly take up a worthy cause even at risk to her own safety or fortune. In quieter moments, Mari is fully capable of relaxing, unwinding, and sharing a drink and stories. She's not secretive about her past or her feelings, and finds that she connects with and empathizes easily with others. The Ninth Daughter of Rán --- Background~Aspiring Mercenary Priestess ~Lower Class, Criminal Background ~Daughter of a runaway Silvari noblewoman and a Norgardian smuggler HistoryMari has romantic origins, the result of a runaway Silvari girl fleeing an arranged marriage and a Norgardian smuggler that left his own homeland behind. She grew up in the Sea of Swords, and there the romance ended. Life as the daughter of a common smuggler was hardly easy, especially one like her father, who found himself in debt to powerful individuals. At twelve Mari found herself working to help pay off those debts, mostly to a criminal and pirate lord, an Izyrian named Ihsan. She worked for him and his crews, hopping islands and pickpocketing, thieving, spying, and eavesdropping. As she grew, she graduated to more direct assistance, and took some part in piracy and raids. It was all she knew at first, and Mari was talented and adventurous, albeit unsatisfied with the way her life was going. Everything changed at 18, when she was caught stealing from a woman named Asherah, First of the Daughters of Rán, a small but respected and even feared group of women sellswords. Often known by other names such as Sisters of the Sea or Witches of the Waves or simply the Sirens, the Daughters belonged to the clever and cunning sea-goddess Rán. The gifts she granted her Nine Daughters were not always extraordinary, but it was believed that the presence of a Daughter aboard a ship could well be the difference between a smooth voyage and a death at the hands of a passing leviathan or vicious storm. When Asherah unexpectedly took a liking to Mari, she felt the Goddess had guided them together. Rán's Daughters always numbered Nine, but recently one had passed, opening a place for Mari if she wanted it. Even knowing she'd be leaving her father on his own, not to mention making an enemy of Ihsan by betraying him, Mari accepted, and began two years of hard training with her new sisters, who protected her while she prepared to join their ranks. She learned slowly and with many mistakes, but learned all the same. The Daughters of Rán offered her a new way forward, one where she could be a better person, while still finding the adventure her heart desired. Now at the end of her training, Mari faces a rite of passage: venture into the Blackwood, alone, and make her way into the forgotten places with Rán's guidance, to find her hidden temple, a place supposedly only accessible to the Nine Daughters. There she will pray and accept the gifts the Goddess offers, seizing the power she feels she needs to fully make amends for her past. MotivationMari must find the Hidden Temple of Rán, hidden somewhere in the Blackwood, and complete her initiation into the Daughters of Rán. After that, she can follow where the waters take her, and sell her sword and skills to those she feels need it most. Witch of the Waves \| \| \| \| SkillsMari is a former thief attempting to remake herself as a proper warrior. Her abilities are spread thin between combat, knowledge, and underhanded skills. Combat [1/1]~Sword and Shield [1] ~Daggers [1] Intelligence [1/1]~Literacy [1] ~Religion [1] ~Geography [1] Charisma [1/1]~Diplomacy [2] Health [1/1]~Cold Resistance [1] Faculties [1/1]~Resolve [1] ~Perception [1] Agility [1/1]~Pick Pocket [1] ~Lockpick [1] ~Balance [1] ~Swimming [2] Mysticism [0/3] --- Equipment~One handed sword ~Wooden round shield ~Two small daggers ~Leather and partial plate armor ~Stitched hide and linen clothes ~Prayer bead necklaces with symbols of Rán Money~1 Royal ~18 Lordlings ~40 Commons Languages~Northern Tongue ~Grim Northern ~Bits and pieces of many other tongues \| \| \|</s> <\|message\|>Arden Arden slowly turned his head leftways and downwards towards Dyla, modifying his facial expression in a rather desperate attempt to just tell her: 'Don't try again!'. The female tavern owner clearly had a point about logic, but in the Skayleigh's opinion she lacked that bit of friendliness that would've been greatly welcomed. They had merely asked, hadn't they ? There was plenty of reason to give that woman a snappy reply, maybe something along the lines of 'I'll reconsider my need for ale these days...' just to give her a not so subtle hint, but all in all being on bad terms with the individual owning the place one intended to sleep at could only be a very bad thing. There were priorities. All of these internal considerations were shattered though when Horace appeared. As the big man dumped a large portion of hot water onto the street Arden merely wondered whether he was Valarie's husband and why he had committed to such a significant waste of warmth, but then he started talking about there actually being an empty room left. The Skayleigh was certain it would prove to be like oil being poured into the fire that was his companion's tongue! And, if he was honest, now he was much more eager to join Dyla's efforts. He'd just take... a bit of a different approach to it. It was a decision that felt particularly good now that Valarie started to treat them like a bunch of annoying toddlers ruining her garden. The sound of cloth and leather rubbing against each other and giving way to bulging muscle beneath it could be heard as Arden crossed his arms in front of his chest. He looked at Valarie, then at the door Horace had taken to get back inside, then back towards her again. Each time his level of skepticism seemed to rise. "So here we have what looks like a couple of tavern owners: One prefers not renting unused rooms to guests and the other apparently has one hell of an attitude against bards. You know what that sounds like to me ?" Arden leaned forward, trying to get his staring eyes closer to her face as he moved his hands onto the desk in order to support his upper body. Things smelled badly here, and inside his mind the suspicion of Valarie and her husband having something against them for some very stupid and generic reason arose quickly. For the moment however Arden did his best to hold it back and decided to try and challenge her with something else first. "Contradictory! So...didn't we just have a lecture about logic from you ? How about the next one ?" After all, if the room had simply already been booked by some other individual who'd come in later she just could have told that instead of making a myth about it. Intimidation attempt: rolled a 5.</s> <\|message\|>Name The next day... It was an hour after sun up, and the entrepreneurial town filled with hard working men and women had already begun their work-days. As it was a frontier settlement for travelers, protection, and supplies, there was a lack of poultry and small time farming, so what woke Mari up would be the sun peeking through her windows and the distant calls of merchants rather than the sound of any rooster crowing. If or when she made it outside, at first she would see no one in her group. But thanks to the rising son and her sharp eyes, she would recognize Kane if no one else in the distance, speaking to a man on horseback by the northern gate before the man trotted away, deeper into the forest. If she drew closer, she would notice the party waiting patiently. In fact they seemed at ease, as if waiting for more than her. It became evident that Po wasn't there just yet. As it were, Orek and Phyrrae had taken a seat on the very last porch before the gate, right before a store that seemed to be selling small items of pottery and knickknacks for good luck or ornamentation. They were playing a strategy game on a small wooden board, called 'Thrones and Conquerors.' It was a war game with a heavy emphasis on calculating your opponent's next move. As Kane approached the group from what he had been speaking to the rider of, Orek heard his footsteps and looked up to notice Mari too. "Mornin'" He called, not noticing Phyrrae changed a small piece on the board which Mari could point out if she so wished. Phyrrae had very quick hands, evidently. "Taking the north road through the Murkrift would be best." Kane rumbled. In the sunlight, Kane looked even more formidable than the night previous. It was something else seeing one of another race, but one of such muscled bulk and bestial features as a Drogotar was still intimidating. "That's..." Orek began, blinking at the board and then eyeing Phyrrae. "That's not right... er, Kane you do know what lurks there, eh?" "I've heard Orcs have mobilized in the northern forest. Something calls them." He said. "What lives in Murkrift sleeps." A voice declared behind Mari, revealed to be Po along with another fellow, mustachioed and apparently wielding a rapier, sheathed at his hip. They both walked by her and stand beside the others. Po gave Mari a smile, before speaking to the group as a whole. "With luck we can get through it. But that still leaves the problem of the water being acidic." The other fellow openly appraised Mari with a raised eyebrow, taking her hand and kissing it if she let him/was too surprised to pull away. He spoke Vrettonian, and clearly the entire party was unamused. Orek looking to the sky as if begging the gods to smite him while Po looked blankly ahead, as if embarrassed he even brought the fellow this morning. "No one told me such a beauty would be going on this trek." He remarked, heavily accented in his speech. Po tapped him on the shoulder and interrupted him. "Why don't you talk business with Orek, Sinclair." Po said, and when he saw the look Po gave him, the man did, complaining under his breath in the foreign language.</s>	<\|message\|>Mari Mari came to with the sun and the sounds of the waking town, slipping out of bed with an alertness and energy she hadn't felt for the last few days. Something about the potential of the day to come, no doubt. She put herself together with haste; there was no time (or point) to a bath, but she was sure to at least wash her face and attempt to tame her mess of auburn hair. Getting all of her armor and gear on wasn't a swift process, but she'd done it enough by now to do so without thinking, finishing by fastening her heavy sword belt, laden with weapons and pouches and holy symbols, around her waist. Slinging her wooden shield over her shoulder, Mari made her way out of the room and collected a quick breakfast. She didn't have much of an appetite, but made sure to at least get something in her belly for the long road ahead. She headed for the northern gate to meet up with the others, noticing Kane first, and the dwarf and elf second playing their game off to the side. Mari had played before with her sisters, enough to recognize the underhanded move Phyrrae pulled when Orek greeted her. "Good morning!" was all she said back to the pair of them. The Murkrift Kane spoke of as their road, a place in the forest not teeming with Orcs, but perhaps something else that they seemed hesitant to speak of. Po seemed to believe it would be manageable when he arrived with the other fellow, Sinclair, and that was enough for Mari. She didn't wrench her hand away when he grabbed and kissed it, though she also didn't hide her eyeroll. Vrettonian by his accent, and somehow Mari wasn't surprised. When he released her hand, she let it rest casually on the hilt of her blade, but Po interrupted before she could pick a response, sending Sinclair to speak more with the dwarf. "Thanks for that," she said under breath. "This Murkrift, you said the water's acidic? Something dwells within it even still?" Orcs she figured she could handle with her sword, but acidic water and unknown things sleeping within wasn't something she knew how to approach. Not yet, anyway.</s>
<\|description\|>Mari Marisaya Njalsdottir \|\| 20 \|\| Female Race Half-Elf (Silvari and Norgardian) Appearance Mari's undoubtedly a little small for a fighter, but moves with the grace and poise of someone who has had thorough training, if not a great deal of experience. She can easily pass for human even if her auburn red hair isn't covering her lightly pointed ears. Her eyes are a bright sea blue-green, and she typically gives off the look of someone still full of life and energy. She wears light armor, mostly embossed and studded leather that's probably more decorative than it is protective, with a minimum of cobbled-together plate. It's in Mari's interest to stay lightly geared, considering how often she finds herself on open water. Personality Mari is fierce, bold, and passionate, and a genuinely good woman at heart. She feels she has a great deal to make up for from her youth, and believes fully that the Daughters of Rán are her way to redemption. When working Mari is serious, focused, and efficient, and though at times self-doubt can slow her down, she has enough courage to forge ahead even when she suspects she might fail. Recently she has found meaning and purpose in helping others, and will gladly take up a worthy cause even at risk to her own safety or fortune. In quieter moments, Mari is fully capable of relaxing, unwinding, and sharing a drink and stories. She's not secretive about her past or her feelings, and finds that she connects with and empathizes easily with others. The Ninth Daughter of Rán --- Background~Aspiring Mercenary Priestess ~Lower Class, Criminal Background ~Daughter of a runaway Silvari noblewoman and a Norgardian smuggler HistoryMari has romantic origins, the result of a runaway Silvari girl fleeing an arranged marriage and a Norgardian smuggler that left his own homeland behind. She grew up in the Sea of Swords, and there the romance ended. Life as the daughter of a common smuggler was hardly easy, especially one like her father, who found himself in debt to powerful individuals. At twelve Mari found herself working to help pay off those debts, mostly to a criminal and pirate lord, an Izyrian named Ihsan. She worked for him and his crews, hopping islands and pickpocketing, thieving, spying, and eavesdropping. As she grew, she graduated to more direct assistance, and took some part in piracy and raids. It was all she knew at first, and Mari was talented and adventurous, albeit unsatisfied with the way her life was going. Everything changed at 18, when she was caught stealing from a woman named Asherah, First of the Daughters of Rán, a small but respected and even feared group of women sellswords. Often known by other names such as Sisters of the Sea or Witches of the Waves or simply the Sirens, the Daughters belonged to the clever and cunning sea-goddess Rán. The gifts she granted her Nine Daughters were not always extraordinary, but it was believed that the presence of a Daughter aboard a ship could well be the difference between a smooth voyage and a death at the hands of a passing leviathan or vicious storm. When Asherah unexpectedly took a liking to Mari, she felt the Goddess had guided them together. Rán's Daughters always numbered Nine, but recently one had passed, opening a place for Mari if she wanted it. Even knowing she'd be leaving her father on his own, not to mention making an enemy of Ihsan by betraying him, Mari accepted, and began two years of hard training with her new sisters, who protected her while she prepared to join their ranks. She learned slowly and with many mistakes, but learned all the same. The Daughters of Rán offered her a new way forward, one where she could be a better person, while still finding the adventure her heart desired. Now at the end of her training, Mari faces a rite of passage: venture into the Blackwood, alone, and make her way into the forgotten places with Rán's guidance, to find her hidden temple, a place supposedly only accessible to the Nine Daughters. There she will pray and accept the gifts the Goddess offers, seizing the power she feels she needs to fully make amends for her past. MotivationMari must find the Hidden Temple of Rán, hidden somewhere in the Blackwood, and complete her initiation into the Daughters of Rán. After that, she can follow where the waters take her, and sell her sword and skills to those she feels need it most. Witch of the Waves \| \| \| \| SkillsMari is a former thief attempting to remake herself as a proper warrior. Her abilities are spread thin between combat, knowledge, and underhanded skills. Combat [1/1]~Sword and Shield [1] ~Daggers [1] Intelligence [1/1]~Literacy [1] ~Religion [1] ~Geography [1] Charisma [1/1]~Diplomacy [2] Health [1/1]~Cold Resistance [1] Faculties [1/1]~Resolve [1] ~Perception [1] Agility [1/1]~Pick Pocket [1] ~Lockpick [1] ~Balance [1] ~Swimming [2] Mysticism [0/3] --- Equipment~One handed sword ~Wooden round shield ~Two small daggers ~Leather and partial plate armor ~Stitched hide and linen clothes ~Prayer bead necklaces with symbols of Rán Money~1 Royal ~18 Lordlings ~40 Commons Languages~Northern Tongue ~Grim Northern ~Bits and pieces of many other tongues \| \| \|</s> <\|message\|>Name Saskia plucked the coin from his hand, a small 'ping' echoing when the metal touched one the undersides of her rings. She looked as pleased as any money grubber when presented with money, though it was plain to see that Cillian's tale had softened her mood and endeared her a bit. Calvin took a large swig of his ale while Saskia scooted over and let Cillian sit there beside her. The Elf placed the coins in her coinpurse and then cupped her hands around her flagon, taking a swig herself. "The Blackwood, yes. I assume you'd want to hear about the local woods, right?" "The dangers?" Calvin piped in, trying to be helpful. It was evident he also wanted to hear, like a child hearing a ghost story for the thrill and entertainment. "Of course." Saskia laughed lightly. "Keep in mind I don't know every terror you might face, but my information is reliable. The local woods aren't too dangerous. Maybe a Varghulf pack here or there, or a chimera looking to feast. Or bandits, of course." The prospects were but a muse to her as she considered. "Now, if you are to travel northwards, you'll find the Blackwood Baronies. Petty lords fighting for territory over Gorthaur the Wraithking's shattered lands. Some say the Wraithking, or at least some of his minions, still reside there. To the east, wretched bogs and dense forests of fey spirits. If you're lucky you'll run into a Centaur or an Elf, though they are not of my kin and will shoot you if you haven't a good reason to be there. Even for me, it is hard to determine what they would want. I do hear some of the forest gods demand a sacrifice." "Heard some nastiness, I have." Calvin said. "Some people get taken by them and are never seen again." Saskia shrugged. "Couldn't say what happens to them. Maybe they're taken to the broken realm of the fey? Either way, your biggest worry is southwards. I hear a large horde of Orcs is passing through the southern Blackwood, and there have been rumors of demon cults in some of the fortified towns. Not to mention the Dragon..." The Elf took a huge swig of her drink, and clapped it back onto the table as any hard man would. "The roads are difficult eastward. The north is likely the safest in terms of travel, but in staying? Not too sure. Hope this helped." LEVEL UP You gain 2 skill points to spend them where you like! --- "No problem." Po said to her easily, one hand on his staff, though he looked a bit embarrassed a moment later. "Sorry, I didn't invite him, but he did save my life before and insisted on coming." As for her question, he seemed to sober up a bit. "A Dragon. Maybe. Not the one that Ithaca said you saw, but another one, we think. No one really knows for sure, but people have gone through the Murkrift before and lived. We might need to if the Orcs aren't gone within a day. For now I think we'll just move north until we can be sure." Behind them both, Orek fished into his pocket and paid Phyrrae a small price of coins for her victory over him in their board game. To make the Dwarf's mood even more sour, Sinclair made it to him and gave a bow. "Monsieur Dwarf, I am ready for adventure." He proclaimed, politely inclining his head to the Dwarf, hand on the hilt of his admittedly beautiful sword. His accent was as thick as ever and hard to make out. "I am packed and have food for two days travel. When is the next city we will make berth at?" "Three days." Orek said, sardonically cheerful. He picked himself up off his seat on the porch and smiled to the man. Kane had already made it to the foot of the gate, standing there like a primordial guardian. Sinclair's face turned comically distraught. "Assuming it hasn't been razed to the ground by Orcs, and that's also assuming we don't go through the Murkrift bog, which we probably will. Anymore questions or can we begin our trek?" "Erh..." Sinclair seemed at a loss for words. "We'll discuss it when we make camp tonight." Po piped in, having stepped forward beside them. His easy going smile defused the sternness of the conversation in a fashion. "Don't worry Sinclair, I've plenty of food to share. Plus everything in the Blackwood is huge. Whatever food is in there, it'll fill us up." "Provided it's not poisonous" Phyrrae said, striding past Sinclair who glanced at her the way an unwanted man often did. Her scowl had him looking away, however. Phyrrae made her way beside Mari, a strange star-headed scepter in the elven woman's hand. As the group made it to the gate, Kane let out a burst of flame from his mouth, halting all conversation for the moment. It was akin to a bonfire being shot out of the mouth of a small crocodile. "Let us embark!" He announced. LEVEL UP You gain 2 skill points to spend them where you like!</s> <\|message\|>Torsten Meier The young woman chasing the fattened weasely older man came to a halt while the other lay sprawled across the ground. He looked up at Torsten and his friends as he slowly regained his footing. The man could not decide whether his pursuer was a werewolf or a witch, rendering Torsten to believe she wasn't either. She simply had the upper hand and he was looking for a way out. Torsten would not accommodate him. "No one likes a cheat, you fat oaf," Torsten decided to side with the witch, if she was one. He honestly believed she was simply smarter than the dumb fat man who allowed a woman to get the better of him in a card game. Some people will blame things out of their control on magic or just plain bad luck. Torsten decided this was one of those situations. "Ma'am, have you reclaimed your possessions?" Torsten asked the young woman lowering his bow. "Sir, I recommend you return to where you come from and pursue a more honest means of acquiring wealth. I look down on common thieves such as you. Now get out of here." Torsten looked at Ulf and Njal. He made a gesture as though they should lower their weapons and relax.</s>	<\|message\|>Mari Mari gains... +1 Perception +1 Diplomacy A dragon. Brilliant. Mari would take her chances against orcs over facing a dragon dwelling in an acidic swamp, but if indeed it slumbered, perhaps it was the best bet. Three days' travel or more sounded like an ordeal, but Mari had the suspicion that any travel in these woods was risky to begin with. She had enough rations for herself, and could stretch them if need be. Probably wise to do so regardless, in case matters on their route got complicated. It was a diverse and interesting group of adventurers she'd manage to attach herself to, and Mari doubted that feeling of being the "new girl" would go away any time soon. They all seemed to know each other and have experience working together, to some degree. She walked alongside Phyrrae as they set out, quiet at first, keeping an eye on her surroundings and a hand always near her blade's hilt. The woods were calm in the morning, beautiful even, and she made a point to enjoy it while she had the chance. "You've a quick hand," she said quietly to the elven woman. "Not the first time you've won coin from Orek at that game, I'm guessing."</s>
<\|description\|>Mari Marisaya Njalsdottir \|\| 20 \|\| Female Race Half-Elf (Silvari and Norgardian) Appearance Mari's undoubtedly a little small for a fighter, but moves with the grace and poise of someone who has had thorough training, if not a great deal of experience. She can easily pass for human even if her auburn red hair isn't covering her lightly pointed ears. Her eyes are a bright sea blue-green, and she typically gives off the look of someone still full of life and energy. She wears light armor, mostly embossed and studded leather that's probably more decorative than it is protective, with a minimum of cobbled-together plate. It's in Mari's interest to stay lightly geared, considering how often she finds herself on open water. Personality Mari is fierce, bold, and passionate, and a genuinely good woman at heart. She feels she has a great deal to make up for from her youth, and believes fully that the Daughters of Rán are her way to redemption. When working Mari is serious, focused, and efficient, and though at times self-doubt can slow her down, she has enough courage to forge ahead even when she suspects she might fail. Recently she has found meaning and purpose in helping others, and will gladly take up a worthy cause even at risk to her own safety or fortune. In quieter moments, Mari is fully capable of relaxing, unwinding, and sharing a drink and stories. She's not secretive about her past or her feelings, and finds that she connects with and empathizes easily with others. The Ninth Daughter of Rán --- Background~Aspiring Mercenary Priestess ~Lower Class, Criminal Background ~Daughter of a runaway Silvari noblewoman and a Norgardian smuggler HistoryMari has romantic origins, the result of a runaway Silvari girl fleeing an arranged marriage and a Norgardian smuggler that left his own homeland behind. She grew up in the Sea of Swords, and there the romance ended. Life as the daughter of a common smuggler was hardly easy, especially one like her father, who found himself in debt to powerful individuals. At twelve Mari found herself working to help pay off those debts, mostly to a criminal and pirate lord, an Izyrian named Ihsan. She worked for him and his crews, hopping islands and pickpocketing, thieving, spying, and eavesdropping. As she grew, she graduated to more direct assistance, and took some part in piracy and raids. It was all she knew at first, and Mari was talented and adventurous, albeit unsatisfied with the way her life was going. Everything changed at 18, when she was caught stealing from a woman named Asherah, First of the Daughters of Rán, a small but respected and even feared group of women sellswords. Often known by other names such as Sisters of the Sea or Witches of the Waves or simply the Sirens, the Daughters belonged to the clever and cunning sea-goddess Rán. The gifts she granted her Nine Daughters were not always extraordinary, but it was believed that the presence of a Daughter aboard a ship could well be the difference between a smooth voyage and a death at the hands of a passing leviathan or vicious storm. When Asherah unexpectedly took a liking to Mari, she felt the Goddess had guided them together. Rán's Daughters always numbered Nine, but recently one had passed, opening a place for Mari if she wanted it. Even knowing she'd be leaving her father on his own, not to mention making an enemy of Ihsan by betraying him, Mari accepted, and began two years of hard training with her new sisters, who protected her while she prepared to join their ranks. She learned slowly and with many mistakes, but learned all the same. The Daughters of Rán offered her a new way forward, one where she could be a better person, while still finding the adventure her heart desired. Now at the end of her training, Mari faces a rite of passage: venture into the Blackwood, alone, and make her way into the forgotten places with Rán's guidance, to find her hidden temple, a place supposedly only accessible to the Nine Daughters. There she will pray and accept the gifts the Goddess offers, seizing the power she feels she needs to fully make amends for her past. MotivationMari must find the Hidden Temple of Rán, hidden somewhere in the Blackwood, and complete her initiation into the Daughters of Rán. After that, she can follow where the waters take her, and sell her sword and skills to those she feels need it most. Witch of the Waves \| \| \| \| SkillsMari is a former thief attempting to remake herself as a proper warrior. Her abilities are spread thin between combat, knowledge, and underhanded skills. Combat [1/1]~Sword and Shield [1] ~Daggers [1] Intelligence [1/1]~Literacy [1] ~Religion [1] ~Geography [1] Charisma [1/1]~Diplomacy [2] Health [1/1]~Cold Resistance [1] Faculties [1/1]~Resolve [1] ~Perception [1] Agility [1/1]~Pick Pocket [1] ~Lockpick [1] ~Balance [1] ~Swimming [2] Mysticism [0/3] --- Equipment~One handed sword ~Wooden round shield ~Two small daggers ~Leather and partial plate armor ~Stitched hide and linen clothes ~Prayer bead necklaces with symbols of Rán Money~1 Royal ~18 Lordlings ~40 Commons Languages~Northern Tongue ~Grim Northern ~Bits and pieces of many other tongues \| \| \|</s> <\|message\|>Torsten Meier "I am Alanya, daughter of Burgrave Rochestor. If you're going to Oakhollow, I'll follow. Otherwise this seems to be hello and goodbye." Torsten shook the woman's hand as did his compatriots in turn. "My name is Torsten Meier. Most folks just call me Torsten." As she shook her friend's hands, he introduced them to her. "This is Ulf Gunnerson, otherwise known as Wolf." Wolf was a small wiry man about five and a half feet tall. Although his brown hair was starting to gray already, the man was only thirty three summers in age. His Fu Manchu mustache and beard were peppered with a few gray hairs as well. Wolf simply nodded towards Alanya. He didn't know what to say. The second friend stood 6' 4" tall, with rippling muscles bulging over his arms, legs and chest. He was a very impressive man to look at; handsome to boot. One wout noticed his bleached blonde hair, with his beard in a tight braid dangling off his chin and ending below the top edge of his hauberk. "This jötunn is Njal Osborne or Oz." "Nice to make your acquaintance, ma'am," Oz stammered out. "We'll travel with you to Oakhollow," Torsten responded. Then he looked at Njal. "Oz, would you mind carrying the fat little man?" "Not a problem, Tors." Njal tossed the unconscious man over a shoulder like he was a sack of onions. It was no difficulty for the man to carry the smaller man than it would for a horse to carry anyone. "We are all from Norgard. We have been travelling for several weeks to get here. I guess you could see we are on something of a wanderlust; adventure seekers." Torsten was concerned that maybe he said too much already. Not everyone has nice thoughts about Norgardian. "So who exactly is your father? I have never heard of Burgrave Rochestor." Torsten would engage the woman in small talk as they headed through the forest in the direction of the settlement.</s> <\|message\|>Name Phyrrae sniffed at the comment, but with Mari's quick eyes she did see a small, self satisfied smile on the elf maiden's face. "I'm not sure what you're talking about." She replied, though the woman did keep her voice down all the same. "If I were to do something like that, he'd never play a game with me again." With that, Phyrrae drifted into herself as the group trekked deeper into the murky forest. Orek took the lead, at least in spirit. Po was often at the fore, his staff bumping against the ground with every two steps, though he often slowed down to make sure everyone was safe and in line. Even on the road, the forest seemed to reach out and cling to you. Phyrrae eyed the forest with suspicion, and whilst Kane didn't seem to be afraid of anything, it was clear he was alert the way he moved. "I cannaught believ we could naught even bring a mule." Sinclair said, breaking the monatany of the walk. He wasn't just complaining, as it became evident he had embroiled himself in a discussion of spoils with Orek. The Dwarf chuckled through his well groomed beard. "Last I checked, seven rings wasn't that big of a haul." He rumbled, smirking at the duelist. "Besides, as long as we find the place we can get back there easy enough to take the rest of whatever loot there is. If I were you, I'd be happy we don't have a beast here that might get spooked and run off with all of that treasure you're hoping to get your hands on." "I'm pretty sure Kane can carry quite a lot." Po remarked casually, an easy smile on his face as he walked beside them. His staff was now on the back of his shoulders with his arms up and resting on it. His skin was tanned and his arms were toned from a life of manual labor. He could likely lift quite a bit as well, but Dwarves were known for their ability to haul large loads, so despite being the second tallest, Orek could give Po a run for his money in carrying capacity. "Stupid," Phyrrae breathed. "Counting your vrikerumbles before they bear honey..." Likely a comment on the three of them assuming they would find anything. Meanwhile, Kane had actually lagged behind a few feet. The massive humanoid's shoulders were still slightly taller than the top of Mari's head, though there was a comforting aura about Kane. He had the look of a careful and loyal friend to match how fearsome of an enemy he would be. "Mari, I have a question to ask if you would honor me." The Drogator growled, his large tail scraping along the ground audibly. "Are you a powerful warrior among your kind?" He asked. "Traveling the Blackwood alone is something most humans would not do." He watched her curiously, Mari likely having seen lizards who looked the same when they were on alert for predators or prey. "What brings you here on our journey?"</s> <\|message\|>Name The sun was still in the sky, but it had notably lowered into the west, casting light along the table as they spoke. It was clear the Elf and Gnome weren't entirely used to a stranger passing through Greybridge to seek company with them out of the blue, as the two exchanged looks when he asked if he could buy them a hot meal and a drink. Despite speculating, it was clear Calvin was up for it to a point. As if on cue, his small stomach growled audibly, causing Saskia to roll her eyes. "That's kind," Saskia remarked, eyeing Cillian for a moment. "We have been here for awhile, however." "Not too long." Calvin interjected, elbowing her. "Besides, we haven't eaten anything since we sat down. We can at least enjoy a meal from our new friend before we depart, eh?" Two elves with braids and riding leathers strode into the front door as a few laborers stalked out into the streets. The city seemed as lively as ever, with raucous conversations mixed with hushed meetings in the corner of the Iron Star. It drowned out the silence of Saskia, who shrugged her shapely shoulders after she deliberated. She seemed to lower her wariness quite a bit actually. "I guess I should relax. After all I just made a fortune and you're wanting to buy me dinner. What's not to like?" She replied, calling over two drinks for her and Calvin on Cillian's dime. She got a Banian Whiskey, one of the strongest recreational drinks menfolk had. "Though, I am curious. What makes you so enamored with the Blackwood, my friend? You do know it's a death trap. Even a bard would have a hard time finding glory in there without a touch of death. You don't even have a Knight or monster slayer to follow. Will you go in alone?" "Oh and the city is always safe?" Calvin asked. "At least the city is predictable. The Blackwood is filled with nameless things and creepy crawlies." Saskia shuddered for a moment, though her comfort returned tenfold when she got her whiskey. Calvin received and Andredian mead for a light buzz and a warm stomach to go with his meal. "Yes, tell us your end goal, friend." Calvin suggested to Cillian.</s>	<\|message\|>Mari Mari couldn't help a little laugh at Kane's question. "A warrior? Yes. Powerful? Not especially. Not yet, anyway. That's partly why I'm here." Her few years of dedicated training gave her an edge, she imagined, over the average bandit or amateur swordsman, but basic weapon skills were not what made her little group special. "Do you know of Rán? The Widow of the Seas? She has a temple here, somewhere in the Blackwood. I've trained with her Daughters, and if I can find the temple and complete whatever the goddess has in store for me inside, I'll become one of them." She grabbed the swinging symbol of Rán hanging from her belt to show her companion as evidence. "It doesn't happen very often. Daughters of Rán live very long lives through the Widow's gifts, so we're not making pilgrimages to forgotten places every year, you know?" Asherah never did tell Mari how old she was exactly, but some of her sisters speculated at minimum several hundred years old. For a human to reach that was of course only possible through magic. She occasionally glanced at Kane as she walked, but for the most part Mari kept her focus on her surroundings as they went deeper into the woods. Nowhere here was safe, and while the casual banter of the group was reassuring, Mari did not want to be caught off guard by anything out here. d8+1 = 3+1 = 4</s>
<\|description\|>Sylvaine de Vermeille Human (Vrettonian) \| 30 \| Female Appearance Sylvaine is 160cm tall, with a wiry, athletic build. Her shoulderlength hair is a rare jet black, her eyes emerald green; features that raised more than a few brows during her upbringing. Her skin has marks of combat on it, nicks and scars that Sylvaine does her best to hide. She typically wears comfortable, durable clothes of wool and leather, and is seldom seen without a sword on her hip. Personality Sylvaine has that somewhat deadly mix of absolute charm and severe narcisism that tends to make people misjudge and underestimate her in social interactions. Her warm and inviting veneer can change to indifferent ruthlessness in an instant, and very few ever see it coming. Her greed and lust (especially for power, but pleasure will mostly do) knows no bounds. She is an unpredictable friend at best, and a twitchy snake of an enemy at worst. Background * Mercenary/Bandit/Assassin (Optional) * Commoner * Father was the commander of a company of sellswords and died a drunk beggar, mother is unknown and presumed dead. History (Optional) Sylvaine always was her fathers girl, and took his customs and those of his company right to heart. Life on campaign is hard, especially for a little girl among ruthless men, and so she had to become ruthless herself. She first learned how to hide and steal, then to lie and decieve, and finally to fight and kill. Every vice or dark deed you can think of Sylvaine has done, or at least considered. She left her father to die when he lost command of the company and turned to drinking, and took whatever possessions of his still worth having with her. The road is her home now, wherever it may take her. Motivation Sylvaines goals in life is to take what she can, and give nothing back. Capabilities Attributes Combat [1/1] * One handed Sword (1) * Daggers (1) * Dual Weilding (1) Intelligence [1/1] * Linguistics (1) * * Charisma [1/1] * Diplomacy (1) * Charm (1) * Seduction (1) * Deception (1) Health [1/1] * Fortitude (1) * Rejuvenation (1) Faculties [1/1] * * * Agility [1/1] * Run (1) * Stealth (1) * Pick Pocket (1) Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * Longsword * Dagger * Leather Clothing Money 1 Royal, 3 Lordlings, 15 Commons Languages Vrettonian, Dre Costan, Northern</s> <\|message\|>Mari Balance: 1d8+1 = 5 (4 + 1) Intelligence: d8 = 4 Mari missed the sound of the sea. It was something she'd taken for granted, born and raised near the water as she always had been, and now that it was gone, the world seemed all too uncomfortably quiet. This forest would test her, she knew; Asherah had promised as much, and to become a Daughter of Rán, Mari would have to overcome adversity. She needed to prove she was one of them in heart and mind before she could be granted any gifts. She stopped at the edge of the gulley, pushing auburn hair from her face. Getting around this would take hours, and Mari wanted to make it deeper into the forest well before darkness fell. She had a passing knowledge of world geography, but without help in this forest she would be hopelessly lost. People lived in the darkness of the wood somewhere, she just had to find them, and perhaps see if a deal could be made. That meant getting down and through the gulley. Mari noted the very large, very dead thing down there, but whatever felled it was nowhere to be seen, no tracks she could identify at a distance. The smell was strong, though. Best not to linger here any longer than I have to. She started down carefully after securing her pack and her shield, making quick work of the descent. She almost slipped once, but caught herself and kept her feet, setting foot in the basin. Her boots sank into the mud beneath the shallow, filthy water, but she made sure to keep moving, finding that the muck wasn't severe enough to threaten her. The creature was an ogre, she guessed, judging by Asherah's descriptions from stories she'd told. Goddess, the old woman had a lot of stories. The ogre looked to be a few days dead at least, and the smell grew even worse as she passed. With no intent of sticking around to end up beside the dead ogre, Mari began the work of climbing up the far side of the gulley, finding it no more difficult than the descent. It wasn't the warmest welcome into the Blackwood, but Mari had already steeled herself for the worst. Whatever the Watery Widow intended to throw at her, she would face it.</s> <\|message\|>Name Gundarogs: These creatures are one of two subspecies of 'Rog'. The normal, forest dwelling rog are slightly larger, with sallow or green skin. Gundarogs, however, are their underground dwelling counterpart, skin black as if burned and faces horribly twisted. Gundarogs stand around 5 feet tall, with gangly but strong limbs, and weigh around 100 pounds out of their twisted black iron armor. Hideously cruel and malicious, Gundarogs infest mountain holes and the deeps beneath the earth, ever searching for metals to twist into their crude but deadly weapons and armor, but more importantly for buried demons and forgotten gods to worship. They enjoy torture and feasting upon hapless humanoids, but they abhor light, particularly the sun. The fact that they are here is an indication to a clue about the Blackwood proper, for even under such gloom they would not make their homes above ground. Something about the forest is even darker than it appears, or perhaps they were called? Perhaps both? The creature squealed in a piercing wail and dropped the scorpion, looking very akin to a cockroach that found a meal repulsive to its sensibilities. The scorpion scuttled away into the brush, making a twisted path through a mixture of bushes and fallen boughs towards Kyiriniae'aea, suddenly forming back into the very confused baby not half a minute later. Such spells lasted a longer time with more mundane and well understood beasts like sheep and chickens. The child was now looking around curiously, unable to fathom what had just occurred. Behind him, the four Gundarogs had not yet grabbed their weapons, which from where Kyiriniae'aea stood, she could see they were barbed spears and cruel stabbing swords. Rather than screech further or run, they scuttled a few meters away from the fire and watched it fearfully, whispering to one another in their strange, guttural tongue. The flame roared black before their eyes, unyielding from Kyiriniae'aea's cantrip. It seemed they took the fire as an omen, with the loss of their meal via polymorph simply a further sign as to an entity that had chosen to speak with them. There was no telling what Gundarogs would do if they saw a Silver Elf, as most see them attack when others trespass upon their mountain caverns rather than the creatures making a home in the woodlands. When it became apparently the fire wouldn't harm them, they approached closer and gripped their spears, raising them into the air like primitive men or apes, beginning to chant a string of words that sounded like a strange rhyme. The child began to cry once more at the Elf's feet, though the things had yet to hear past their chanting. --- Mari had ascended without error, just in time to make it under the cover of the thick trees when she heard a strange noise in the distance. She found a good tree to hide behind among the myriad of elms and birches, just as she heard an incredibly loud warscream from some winged monstrosity that swooped in from above. It looked twenty feet long from the tip of its tail to it's snout, very dragon-like in appearance save for its brown ridged scales, clubbed tail, and the fact it only had four appendages with small clawed hands at the top of its vast wings. It was terrifyingly mesmerizing to watch it drop onto the ridge Mari had just traversed like a strange bird, clinging to it before it let its taloned feet slide further into the gulley so it could feast upon the huge Ogre's corpse. It likely was not the thing that had killed the monster, but it would certainly capitalize on a free meal when it found it. The warrior would be so transfixed on the display of nature, that she would be caught completely by surprise when a strong hand grabbed her mouth and a sudden sound of "ssshhh" would escape the lips of whoever hid behind her. Mari could struggle, but she would hear the next words as follows. "Don't scream. I'm not here to harm you..." Suddenly she was let go, and Mari would see amid the shadow of the forest, another warrior woman. Tall and lithe, and strong of limb. Her long dark hair was tied into a flowing ponytail, she was adorned with a bronze breastplate and bronze greaves. Her blue eyes contrasted her coppery skin, and she was similiarly armed as Mari with a sword and shield, albeit of different designs. She was also notably taller than Mari. She held her hands up disarmingly. "We must go before the Wyvern smells us. I am Ithaca, the Road Warden. Come with me and I'll take you to town."</s>	<\|message\|>Sylvaine de Vermeille Roll for deception = 6 + 1 = 7 Sylvaine had had enough of travel, at least for a few days. Having a storyteller for company on the road had certainly helped to ease the boredom of ceasless trudging along some path or other, but the novelty of this luxury had somewhat begun to fade. What she wanted was a proper bed to sleep in, a proper cooked meal to eat, and proper drink to get drunk on. They had all that in Greybridge, so naturally she wanted in. What she didn't want, however, was to upend what was left of her meagre purse into the long-fingered paw of some blackmailing bureaucrat. He would not be getting ten lordling out of her anytime soon. The notion of looking for another crossing a hundred miles or so downstream was, however, equally distasteful. Cillian was pleasant enough for company, no doubt, but Sylvaine had reached her limit when it came to hiking. Just the thought of campfires and wet bedrolls and endless, tedious marching made her wrinkle her nose in disgust. She would not be going wandering anywhere anytime soon. That left her in a bit of a pickle. What to do? She looked across at Cillian, who seemed to be thinking the exact same thing. Their eyes met, and she raised an eyebrow. He gave no immediate reply, so she shrugged and made for the notary, pushing past a few disgruntled farmers. One turned to confront her, but put his anger aside when he saw the steel on her hip and in her eye. "Good sir!" she exclaimed, hailing the man, "I do believe that a man of your stature and character would not demand such a tribute of an old ally of the township!" She walked right up to the armed men, a mask of calm and careless charm on her face, and gave a short bow. "de Vermeille is my name, Sylvaine, daughter to none other than Rainier de Vermeille, commander of the Blue Blades, who fought for this settlement during the border skirmishes of yesteryears. We were made kin then, we were told, for our service to the people, and would always be welcome when in need of a haven. Well, I am in need of such a haven now, as is my minstrel. A man of your nature would not go back on such a promise, would he? I, for one, would think not." She beamed at the notary, awaiting his reply.</s>
<\|description\|>Sylvaine de Vermeille Human (Vrettonian) \| 30 \| Female Appearance Sylvaine is 160cm tall, with a wiry, athletic build. Her shoulderlength hair is a rare jet black, her eyes emerald green; features that raised more than a few brows during her upbringing. Her skin has marks of combat on it, nicks and scars that Sylvaine does her best to hide. She typically wears comfortable, durable clothes of wool and leather, and is seldom seen without a sword on her hip. Personality Sylvaine has that somewhat deadly mix of absolute charm and severe narcisism that tends to make people misjudge and underestimate her in social interactions. Her warm and inviting veneer can change to indifferent ruthlessness in an instant, and very few ever see it coming. Her greed and lust (especially for power, but pleasure will mostly do) knows no bounds. She is an unpredictable friend at best, and a twitchy snake of an enemy at worst. Background * Mercenary/Bandit/Assassin (Optional) * Commoner * Father was the commander of a company of sellswords and died a drunk beggar, mother is unknown and presumed dead. History (Optional) Sylvaine always was her fathers girl, and took his customs and those of his company right to heart. Life on campaign is hard, especially for a little girl among ruthless men, and so she had to become ruthless herself. She first learned how to hide and steal, then to lie and decieve, and finally to fight and kill. Every vice or dark deed you can think of Sylvaine has done, or at least considered. She left her father to die when he lost command of the company and turned to drinking, and took whatever possessions of his still worth having with her. The road is her home now, wherever it may take her. Motivation Sylvaines goals in life is to take what she can, and give nothing back. Capabilities Attributes Combat [1/1] * One handed Sword (1) * Daggers (1) * Dual Weilding (1) Intelligence [1/1] * Linguistics (1) * * Charisma [1/1] * Diplomacy (1) * Charm (1) * Seduction (1) * Deception (1) Health [1/1] * Fortitude (1) * Rejuvenation (1) Faculties [1/1] * * * Agility [1/1] * Run (1) * Stealth (1) * Pick Pocket (1) Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * Longsword * Dagger * Leather Clothing Money 1 Royal, 3 Lordlings, 15 Commons Languages Vrettonian, Dre Costan, Northern</s> <\|message\|>Name Rittenvos was merely an outpost, but the fact that so many people filled the common room of the inn, and earlier when Mari saw the lively market, showcased just how much travelers and explorers counted upon this small bastion of civilization. In order to keep the flow moving, adventurers and mercenaries were likely as needed as fresh water. Little surprise then when Ithaca brought Mari across the common room to the very low-end, shoddy table that was attached to the wall. Ithaca elbowed her way over and gave Mari space to step forward, and she found herself in the company of four people. Kane sat on the ground, for the chair wouldn't be able to keep him aloft without breaking. The beast of a warrior was likely twice the weight of an already big man. She could see his thick tail splayed out behind him, resting like the tail of a crocodile. Next to him was a far shorter but still very heavy and dense fellow, Orek. He had an air of mischief and intelligence to him, and again he seemed to be leaner than most would expect from Dwarves. Likely for his traveling lifestyle. His garb was leather and cloth, though undoubtedly he had finely wrought chainmail beneath his cloak. He smiled through his beard when he saw Ithaca walk over, his pipe in his teeth. "Oh, are ye coming with us lass? Or did ye bring someone to take yer place?" Orek asked slyly. Both Orek and Kane were on the right side of the table. On the left were two striking people. One was a lovely elven woman, her blonde hair tied in a bun, her shapely form in a kalasiris, a strange priestly robe. She seemed particularly haughty in nature, raising an eyebrow at Mari when she appeared. Beside her was Po, who was even more handsome up close. His eyes sparkled with a fire that promised humor and intellect, and his dark mane of hair was cut just halfway down his neck. He was likely tall, despite the fact he was seated. He gave a friendly smile, his full lips noticably on his tanned skin. "I know you'll be having a bit of a get together tomorrow. Seeing as I'm leaving, I thought I might give you a recommendation." Ithaca said, and Mari would be playfully pushed forward a bit by the Praelian. Apparently she was still a bit too tipsy to be completely professional. "Hey," Po said casually, and he held his hand out to Mari to shake. "You were the warrior that made it here today, from the southern road?" "The one that riled the Dragon?" The Elf pipped in. "No one riled the Dragon, pointy ear." Orek said. "'Least, no one here." "Phyrrae doesn't like other women cramping her style." Po joked, which caused the elf to clearly take offense at that suggestion, though she didn't speak immediately.</s> <\|message\|>Mari Mari found herself pushed forward into a dashing group of adventurers, smiling a little awkwardly back at Ithaca. One of her sisters had fashioned her leathers, and while they were finely crafted, embossed and studded and fitted comfortably to her form, with swirling and twisting decorative elements of Norgardian design, Mari felt she was certainly the least impressive of this group. Kane and his plate armor she'd already encountered, but now she got a better look at the elven woman in her beautiful priestly robes. They were of Nestariel, the healer, or at least she thought, as the design was more exotic and archaic than other traveling priests she'd encountered before. Her gaze seemed to pierce through, but Mari paid it little mind. She was new, after all. The dwarf seemed friendly enough, Orek, and then there was Po, his hand outstretched towards her. "That's me," she said, giving it a shake. "My name's Mari, I've come from the Sea of Swords. I'm going to be here for a little while at least, so I thought I'd look for some opportunities." Her holy symbols of Rán were displayed openly hanging from her belts for the observant. She didn't laugh at Po's joke, only smiling a little, as she wasn't sure what the dynamic here was yet, and had no desire to turn the elven woman's disposition against her before they'd even begun. "I can pull my own weight in a fight and in the wild, if you'll have me."</s> <\|message\|>Name When Torsten woke up again, it was midday...likely. The gloom permeated the forest floor, though by his prone position facing upwards, he could see the barest glimpse of the sun peaking through three small spots among the canopy. The other two lads were asleep, however judging by their light breathing, either would wake up as soon as a twig was broken. Torsten himself felt much better, at least compared to what he expected. He still ached all over and a broken rib or two wouldn't heal overnight. Torsten would lay there for a bit before any minute movements of trying to make himself more comfortable would awaken his allies, and then the three would have a hardy breakfast before breaking camp, tossing about the burnt logs and covering much of where they had been with large ferns and various foliage debris. Torsten was a tough one, getting ready and dressed like the other two despite his injuries, and after some deliberation on their path, they would begin to move south as they had been going the other day. The Blackwood seemed a world unto its own, misty far away and vaguely clear within thirty meters ahead, large trees framing every facet of every direction; inescapable. The cries of something pierced the veil of unease, though it wasn't a warcry as it was yesterday. The three warriors stiffened, able to pinpoint where the approaching man, for it sounded like one, was coming from. They would be able to deduce on if they should hide, run, or spring into action as they saw a fellow, clearly a merchant of some kind, stumbling and falling onto the overgrown underbrush of the forest floor. Behind him was a strange sight. A waif chased him in unremarkable trousers and a flowing linen top. Her auburn hair cut short and her eyes fixed on the running man. What either were doing here was unknown, but it was up to the three warriors to see what they would do in such an out of place situation.</s> <\|message\|>Cillian Kindellan Perhaps Cillian had been listening to the rhythm of the city for too long, or perhaps attempting to overhear a conversation in a crowded tavern was too tricky a task, but whatever the reason, Cillian's attempts to learn more about the money changing hands proved to be futile. It was clear that information was being exchanged between the two groups, but whether it was the elf and the gnome giving information to the warrior-woman, or the reverse, he could not make out. Whatever the case, it intrigued him, and he had all but forgotten his pangs of hunger. Cillian had spent his life following things that intrigued him, and it had yet to steer him wrong. He hesitated, catching his own train of thought for a moment. It had yet to steer him 'too' wrong. Every scar told a story, and when your trade was stories, sometimes a close scrape was far more useful than an easy ride. Cillian's internal monologue was cut short as the warrior-woman strode past his table, the mace that hung at her hip lightly knocking against the table itself as she passed. Jolted back to reality, Cillian could practically feel the thread of oppurtunity slipping through his fingers. Perhaps if Sylvaine was with him, he could ask for her to share her... unusual perspective, but a quick glance over to the bar told him that she was making no great haste in joining him at the table, still in conversation with the dishevelled dwarf. No, if he wanted to grasp this oppurtunity, whatever this oppurtunity was, he would have to do it on his own. For a moment, he felt himself teetering on a knife-edge, deciding which way to fall. He could seize the thread before it had slipped away entirely, or he could sit back and let it pass, waiting for Sylvaine to eventually return with a drink and a hot meal, whenever that might be. A ghost of a smile crossed Cillian as he considered the question. He had never been the type to let the oppurtunity for a good tale to pass him by, and even with his legs stiff from travel, and his throat dry, he was not about to change now. Putting on his most friendly smile, and trusting that if he had been able to overhear the table, then they would be able to hear him, Cillian turned in his seat to face the elf and the gnome, leaning forward as he spoke. "Greetings, friends. I do not mean to intrude, but I am Cillian Kindellan, a wandering bard, and I have indeed been wandering far. My travelling companions have been pleasant enough, but I am always eager for some... fresher conversation, and the two of you have the appearance of people that are worth knowing. If I can trouble you for your time, perhaps we could get to know each other a little?" Attempt to charm the unlikely pair (Charm) = 5 + 1 = 6</s>	<\|message\|>Sylvaine de Vermeille Sylvaine closed her fist around the coins, flashing the dwarf her most heroic smile. "Much obliged" she said, pocketing the lordlings, "Your friend will be back in no time, don't you worry." Raising the glass to the dwarf one last time, as if to toast their accord, she turned around and started moving to where Cillian was sitting. Only, he wasn't there anymore. Sylvaine frowned and looked about the tavern, spotting her companion in the company of the interesting trio. She smiled at how typically Cillian it was of him to feel drawn towards them, dreamer that he was. She didn't want to ruin his introduction, however, so Sylvaine chose to sit down at their old table and wait for a bit. Once he'd rooted himself in their company, she could slide over and perhaps get something out of it as well. For now, she felt content just counting the money she'd took of the dwarf. It was almost too easy, sometimes, being insincere, but then again people often helped her more than they realized. Most people would rather believe a happy lie than a sad truth, however nonsensical. Some practically begged of her to lie to them, to tell them what they wanted to hear, and were more than willing to pay for the privilege. Who was she to deny them? And she'd had such a good teacher, too. She'd seen her father defeat far more enemies with the sharpness of his wits and the point of his tounge than with any edged steel. 'Swords are for rattling' he'd always told her, 'Not for drawing.' Sylvaine glanced towards where Cillian was sitting, wondering about how much of her so-called deal with the dwarf she should tell him. "Not much" was the most reasonable answer, at least until they were far away enough from the dwarf in question for him to do something stupid, like telling him their names or somesuch. Then again, the thought of lying to him somehow didn't sit right with her. She groaned in disgust as she realized that she was perhaps starting to like the man. That she would have to remedy. Nothing good ever came out of camaradiery.</s>
<\|description\|>Cillian Kindellan Human (Caelic Isles) \| 37 \| Male Appearance Cillian does not stand out from the countless travellers on the road. He does not boast the powerful bulk of the warrior, or the lithe silhouette of the rogue, but he still stands at a decent height of around six foot, and beneath his clothing, his frame is one of wiry muscle, marked with dozens of scars and painted with the traditional woad tattoos of his people. His hair is pale, a rare sight among those who hail from the Caelic Isles, and he wears it long and braided, along with a short and unruly beard. His clothing is simple but durable, and he is rarely found without his carefully crafted mail armour, forged by his father's own hand. The spear and shield, often slung across his back, and the dagger on his belt, are also from his father's forge, and along with his armour, they are his last ties to his home, and his family. It is Cillian's eyes that are his most striking feature, a pale but fiercely intense blue that light up with an almost ethereal fire whenever he has a story on his lips, or a foe before him. Personality Cillian has spent years rubbing shoulders with paupers and kings, and this has left him with an easy charm. Coupled with the natural warmth and kinship of those hardy folk that carve out a life the Caelic Isles, Cillian is a friendly figure, although anyone who spends too long in the man's company will realise that there is something a little... unhinged about the wanderer. Perhaps it true that fey blood runs through his veins, or perhaps Cillian has simply spent too long dreaming of mythic creatures and fantastical legends, but despite the welcoming nature of the man, he is clearly not all there. Perhaps it is this that fuels his wandering, and sees him rarely spent too long in place, or with one group. Despite this, he is an earnest companion, an honourable warrior, and a talented entertainer. Background * Wandering Bard * Lower Class * Son of the Blacksmith and the Storyteller History (Will be filled over time) Cillian was born into a simple village, clinging to a windswept rocky island that juts from the stormy waters of the Shrouded Sea. The second son of the village's blacksmith, Cillian had as comfortable a childhood as can be expected from the people that cling to the Caelic Isles, but that is not to say that his upbringing was uneventful. To survive on the islands, people grow up tough, and they grow up fast. Norgardian raids were common, and as soon as Cillian was old enough to stand, he had a spear thrust into his hands, and taught how to use it. It was to Cillian's older brother, Ronan, that the trade of smithing was passed down, and while his brother worked over the forge under his father's watchful eye, Cillian was drawn more to his mother. The women of Cillian's village were as hardy as the men, just as likely to take up a weapon and defend her homestead as the men, and Cillian's mother was no exception. And yet it was in the flickering firelight of the night, as the clan pulled close together in the chieftain's hall, against the darkness and the chill, that Cillian's mother was in her element. It is the druids that tie the Caelic Isles to their gods, but it is the storytellers and bards that tie them to their myths, and their legends, and their history. Cillian's mother was one of those storytellers, and Cillian hung on her every word. All of the village's children enjoyed her stories, gripped by the tales of great beasts and courageous heroes, but for Cillian, it was something different. He had an almost insatiable hunger for these legends, and when he heard them, his eyes lit up, and he felt truly alive, as if he could see these fantastical creatures in the room before him, even as his mother spoke. Whenever other clans visited the village, for trade or to keep relations friendly with their neighbours, Cillian begged them to share their own tales, and when they relented, he drank them in greedily. Motivation Cillian wanders the world, bringing the songs and legends of his people to anyone who has coin to spare, but he has long held ambitions of experiencing a legend of his own, and that ambition has drawn him to the dark depths of the Blackwood... Capabilities Attributes Combat [1/1] * Polearm with Shield (1) * Daggers (1) * Intelligence [1/1] * Legendry (1) * * Charisma [1/1] * Singing (1) * Charm (2) * Health [1/1] * Toughness (1) * Stamina (1) * Rejuvenation (1) Faculties [1/1] * Perception (1) * Intuition (1) * Willpower (1) * Woodcraft (1) Agility [1/1] * Balance (1) * Swimming (1) * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * Spear * Shield * Dagger * Mail Armour Money 5 Royals, 12 Lordlings and 28 Commons Languages Caelic, Northern Tongue</s> <\|message\|>Name The mage seemed to try and absorb the information. Clearly he was intelligent simply based on the look in his eye, but that didn't mean he wasn't useful. His gaze turned to the doorway, where one could see the vine covered wall of the inner tower that led down to the ground floor, and then he looked to the book cases with a monumental pile of books. It looked like he had been just as surprised to see Kyiriniae'aea as she, him. At her admittance to her plight, he almost seemed to stumble on himself. "Sure," He said, but then caught himself like someone had whipped him. "I mean- Yes, of course." He bowed and took her hand, giving it a light kiss. His voice was strong, and it had gained a bit of professionalism. "My apologies, I'm simply a little overwhelmed. I was fully expecting to fight someone to the death, not meet a lovely woman- er, Elven maiden such as yourself." He finally moved to the chair she had presented him, setting down and placing his knife in the sheath on his hip. He scratched his scalp, just below his thick mane of black hair. "Forgive me, I haven't explained much of anything, have I?" He asked. He spoke to scold himself just as much as to apologize to her. "As I said, I am Alcander. I'm an adept and mage of the Mythrin Tethir. Your portal... it was within the tower I had been given by my master, north of Greybridge city. Minutes ago I saw it come to life and I couldn't get a reading in my Crystal Sphere. It's dangerous magic to handle, though I'm certain you know that." It was clear he was used to speaking to other mages, but he was less used to speaking to elves or beautiful women and he tried to pass it off as if it were nothing. He also clearly seemed to think Kyra was far more knowledgable than he likely was, considering how old she could potentially be. "If we're in the Blackwood, then this very well might be in a Mythal Itha." He remarked, then he stood up slowly and decided to make his way over to the third bookshelf on the right, running his fingers over the spines of the books. Finally, after it looked as if he was going to take a book out and begin reading, he instead turned empty-handed. "I have so many questions but, tell me of this warlock?" Alcander placed his arm across his chest, in the same manner a man might hook his arm around a lady's, only before him rather than at his side. He bowed again. "I'll help you, if I can, Lady Kyra."</s> <\|message\|>Name Sylvaine sat down next to the Dwarf, who seems particularly downtrodden. In fact he looked like a particularly sullen bulldog that somehow learned to drink alcohol with the best of them. Judging by the empty mugs beside him and that an alcoholic haze surrounded his beard. He didn't seem to notice Sylvaine at first, finishing his fifth mug, emptying half of its contents by what looked to be a pure opening of his throat. It was almost fascinating to watch. Once the mug was down, however, he gave Sylvaine the stink eye. Though she seemed to be just charming enough to at least warrant some answers from him. "Day? Aye you could say that. More like a bloody week." He regurgitated, calling another drink. The Dwarf sighed, letting out a small belch. "Me cousin got himself lost in the Blackwood a few days ago. Ambushed by Orcs, you see. No, he's not dead. I know what yer thinking." He declared. "He's far too tough to let a little thing like violent orcs kill him off. No, he got himself lost and I hadn't the supplies or time to find him. I should go back out there, but I wouldn't even begin to know where to look." Meanwhile, Cillian found himself at a table alone. Though he had no one to speak to, it gave him a very good chance to listen. A low murmur of the crowd reverberated constantly in the background, but thankfully that didn't drown out the conversations of the closer or more prominent and interesting people. Most notably, the Skayeleigh woman that had stalked past them at the beginning seemed to know the Elven maiden and Gnome sitting with her, but it appeared they were simply there for a business transaction. A business of information, in fact. It was hard to tell exactly what they were discussing, but the mentioning of secrets and the very real bag of coin being slid across the table was something to take note of. It made sense, the city being very much a place of trade and tourism. It was logical to think someone would make it their business to know who was where and what was happening. @Romero</s>	<\|message\|>Cillian Kindellan Glancing across to the bar that Sylvaine had gravitated towards, Cillian frowned slightly when he saw that she had apparently struck up a conversation with the dishevelled dwarf, rather than with the inn-keep. The dwarf certainly didn't look to be in a sharing mood, and although Cillian couldn't make out their conversation, he doubted they were discussing the acquirement of any food and drink. Or at least not for Cillian. Thankfully a lifetime of wandering, travelling wherever his feet took him, had left Cillian as a man with plenty of patience, and despite the pangs from his stomach, and the dryness of his mouth, the man from the Caelic Isles was always grateful for a moment of peace, and as he leant back in his chair, stretching out his tired legs, Cillian closed his eyes for a moment, and simply listened. It had been his mother's first story that had lit the fire within Cillian, but it had not been until he had first heard her sing that the flame had been whipped into an inferno. To hear the magic of her words, to feel the power of the legends in her voice, it had bewitched Cillian. He had spent untold hours sharing the stories he had learnt with anyone who was willing to listen, and as he had grown older, he had lent his own voice to the windswept hall of his village. Ever since that first song, Cillian had grown to appreciate the sounds of life, and as he leant back in his chair, the air around him was alive with noise, and it was like music to him. The murmur of a dozen voices filled the tavern, weaving together to form a wall of noise, each voice merging into the next, but there was more beyond that. The sound of boots on floorboards gave an uneasy beat to the symphony, and if Cillian concentrated, he could hear horseshoes on cobbles from the streets that ran past the tavern. Running beneath it all, like the silver thread along the hem of the chaotic tapestry, Cillian could still hear the roar of the river Heathric. The noise was at the heart of the city, just as the river itself was, and to Cillian, it was like the blood-flow of some mighty beast. In an instant, one noise cut through it all, and brought Cillian crashing back to reality, the tether frantically tugging for his full attention. The distinctive sound of a coin purse landing on a table, and being slid across it, was a sound that was all too familiar to Cillian, and as it cut through the hubbub of the tavern, the wandering bard was careful to keep his eyes closed, straining for the source of the sound. It didn't take him long to realise that it had come from the direction of the unusual trio that had had noticed when he had first entered. It seemed as if he would have to wait for something to eat, but his hunger was all but forgotten as he strained to overhear the conversation of the Skayeleigh warrior-woman, the Elven maiden and the Gnome gentleman. At worst, it would serve as a welcome distraction, and perhaps even make for an interesting tale. Attempt to overhear the conversation (Perception) = 1 + 1 = 2</s>
<\|description\|>Cillian Kindellan Human (Caelic Isles) \| 37 \| Male Appearance Cillian does not stand out from the countless travellers on the road. He does not boast the powerful bulk of the warrior, or the lithe silhouette of the rogue, but he still stands at a decent height of around six foot, and beneath his clothing, his frame is one of wiry muscle, marked with dozens of scars and painted with the traditional woad tattoos of his people. His hair is pale, a rare sight among those who hail from the Caelic Isles, and he wears it long and braided, along with a short and unruly beard. His clothing is simple but durable, and he is rarely found without his carefully crafted mail armour, forged by his father's own hand. The spear and shield, often slung across his back, and the dagger on his belt, are also from his father's forge, and along with his armour, they are his last ties to his home, and his family. It is Cillian's eyes that are his most striking feature, a pale but fiercely intense blue that light up with an almost ethereal fire whenever he has a story on his lips, or a foe before him. Personality Cillian has spent years rubbing shoulders with paupers and kings, and this has left him with an easy charm. Coupled with the natural warmth and kinship of those hardy folk that carve out a life the Caelic Isles, Cillian is a friendly figure, although anyone who spends too long in the man's company will realise that there is something a little... unhinged about the wanderer. Perhaps it true that fey blood runs through his veins, or perhaps Cillian has simply spent too long dreaming of mythic creatures and fantastical legends, but despite the welcoming nature of the man, he is clearly not all there. Perhaps it is this that fuels his wandering, and sees him rarely spent too long in place, or with one group. Despite this, he is an earnest companion, an honourable warrior, and a talented entertainer. Background * Wandering Bard * Lower Class * Son of the Blacksmith and the Storyteller History (Will be filled over time) Cillian was born into a simple village, clinging to a windswept rocky island that juts from the stormy waters of the Shrouded Sea. The second son of the village's blacksmith, Cillian had as comfortable a childhood as can be expected from the people that cling to the Caelic Isles, but that is not to say that his upbringing was uneventful. To survive on the islands, people grow up tough, and they grow up fast. Norgardian raids were common, and as soon as Cillian was old enough to stand, he had a spear thrust into his hands, and taught how to use it. It was to Cillian's older brother, Ronan, that the trade of smithing was passed down, and while his brother worked over the forge under his father's watchful eye, Cillian was drawn more to his mother. The women of Cillian's village were as hardy as the men, just as likely to take up a weapon and defend her homestead as the men, and Cillian's mother was no exception. And yet it was in the flickering firelight of the night, as the clan pulled close together in the chieftain's hall, against the darkness and the chill, that Cillian's mother was in her element. It is the druids that tie the Caelic Isles to their gods, but it is the storytellers and bards that tie them to their myths, and their legends, and their history. Cillian's mother was one of those storytellers, and Cillian hung on her every word. All of the village's children enjoyed her stories, gripped by the tales of great beasts and courageous heroes, but for Cillian, it was something different. He had an almost insatiable hunger for these legends, and when he heard them, his eyes lit up, and he felt truly alive, as if he could see these fantastical creatures in the room before him, even as his mother spoke. Whenever other clans visited the village, for trade or to keep relations friendly with their neighbours, Cillian begged them to share their own tales, and when they relented, he drank them in greedily. Motivation Cillian wanders the world, bringing the songs and legends of his people to anyone who has coin to spare, but he has long held ambitions of experiencing a legend of his own, and that ambition has drawn him to the dark depths of the Blackwood... Capabilities Attributes Combat [1/1] * Polearm with Shield (1) * Daggers (1) * Intelligence [1/1] * Legendry (1) * * Charisma [1/1] * Singing (1) * Charm (2) * Health [1/1] * Toughness (1) * Stamina (1) * Rejuvenation (1) Faculties [1/1] * Perception (1) * Intuition (1) * Willpower (1) * Woodcraft (1) Agility [1/1] * Balance (1) * Swimming (1) * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * Spear * Shield * Dagger * Mail Armour Money 5 Royals, 12 Lordlings and 28 Commons Languages Caelic, Northern Tongue</s> <\|message\|>Name Rittenvos was merely an outpost, but the fact that so many people filled the common room of the inn, and earlier when Mari saw the lively market, showcased just how much travelers and explorers counted upon this small bastion of civilization. In order to keep the flow moving, adventurers and mercenaries were likely as needed as fresh water. Little surprise then when Ithaca brought Mari across the common room to the very low-end, shoddy table that was attached to the wall. Ithaca elbowed her way over and gave Mari space to step forward, and she found herself in the company of four people. Kane sat on the ground, for the chair wouldn't be able to keep him aloft without breaking. The beast of a warrior was likely twice the weight of an already big man. She could see his thick tail splayed out behind him, resting like the tail of a crocodile. Next to him was a far shorter but still very heavy and dense fellow, Orek. He had an air of mischief and intelligence to him, and again he seemed to be leaner than most would expect from Dwarves. Likely for his traveling lifestyle. His garb was leather and cloth, though undoubtedly he had finely wrought chainmail beneath his cloak. He smiled through his beard when he saw Ithaca walk over, his pipe in his teeth. "Oh, are ye coming with us lass? Or did ye bring someone to take yer place?" Orek asked slyly. Both Orek and Kane were on the right side of the table. On the left were two striking people. One was a lovely elven woman, her blonde hair tied in a bun, her shapely form in a kalasiris, a strange priestly robe. She seemed particularly haughty in nature, raising an eyebrow at Mari when she appeared. Beside her was Po, who was even more handsome up close. His eyes sparkled with a fire that promised humor and intellect, and his dark mane of hair was cut just halfway down his neck. He was likely tall, despite the fact he was seated. He gave a friendly smile, his full lips noticably on his tanned skin. "I know you'll be having a bit of a get together tomorrow. Seeing as I'm leaving, I thought I might give you a recommendation." Ithaca said, and Mari would be playfully pushed forward a bit by the Praelian. Apparently she was still a bit too tipsy to be completely professional. "Hey," Po said casually, and he held his hand out to Mari to shake. "You were the warrior that made it here today, from the southern road?" "The one that riled the Dragon?" The Elf pipped in. "No one riled the Dragon, pointy ear." Orek said. "'Least, no one here." "Phyrrae doesn't like other women cramping her style." Po joked, which caused the elf to clearly take offense at that suggestion, though she didn't speak immediately.</s> <\|message\|>Mari Mari found herself pushed forward into a dashing group of adventurers, smiling a little awkwardly back at Ithaca. One of her sisters had fashioned her leathers, and while they were finely crafted, embossed and studded and fitted comfortably to her form, with swirling and twisting decorative elements of Norgardian design, Mari felt she was certainly the least impressive of this group. Kane and his plate armor she'd already encountered, but now she got a better look at the elven woman in her beautiful priestly robes. They were of Nestariel, the healer, or at least she thought, as the design was more exotic and archaic than other traveling priests she'd encountered before. Her gaze seemed to pierce through, but Mari paid it little mind. She was new, after all. The dwarf seemed friendly enough, Orek, and then there was Po, his hand outstretched towards her. "That's me," she said, giving it a shake. "My name's Mari, I've come from the Sea of Swords. I'm going to be here for a little while at least, so I thought I'd look for some opportunities." Her holy symbols of Rán were displayed openly hanging from her belts for the observant. She didn't laugh at Po's joke, only smiling a little, as she wasn't sure what the dynamic here was yet, and had no desire to turn the elven woman's disposition against her before they'd even begun. "I can pull my own weight in a fight and in the wild, if you'll have me."</s> <\|message\|>Name When Torsten woke up again, it was midday...likely. The gloom permeated the forest floor, though by his prone position facing upwards, he could see the barest glimpse of the sun peaking through three small spots among the canopy. The other two lads were asleep, however judging by their light breathing, either would wake up as soon as a twig was broken. Torsten himself felt much better, at least compared to what he expected. He still ached all over and a broken rib or two wouldn't heal overnight. Torsten would lay there for a bit before any minute movements of trying to make himself more comfortable would awaken his allies, and then the three would have a hardy breakfast before breaking camp, tossing about the burnt logs and covering much of where they had been with large ferns and various foliage debris. Torsten was a tough one, getting ready and dressed like the other two despite his injuries, and after some deliberation on their path, they would begin to move south as they had been going the other day. The Blackwood seemed a world unto its own, misty far away and vaguely clear within thirty meters ahead, large trees framing every facet of every direction; inescapable. The cries of something pierced the veil of unease, though it wasn't a warcry as it was yesterday. The three warriors stiffened, able to pinpoint where the approaching man, for it sounded like one, was coming from. They would be able to deduce on if they should hide, run, or spring into action as they saw a fellow, clearly a merchant of some kind, stumbling and falling onto the overgrown underbrush of the forest floor. Behind him was a strange sight. A waif chased him in unremarkable trousers and a flowing linen top. Her auburn hair cut short and her eyes fixed on the running man. What either were doing here was unknown, but it was up to the three warriors to see what they would do in such an out of place situation.</s>	<\|message\|>Cillian Kindellan Perhaps Cillian had been listening to the rhythm of the city for too long, or perhaps attempting to overhear a conversation in a crowded tavern was too tricky a task, but whatever the reason, Cillian's attempts to learn more about the money changing hands proved to be futile. It was clear that information was being exchanged between the two groups, but whether it was the elf and the gnome giving information to the warrior-woman, or the reverse, he could not make out. Whatever the case, it intrigued him, and he had all but forgotten his pangs of hunger. Cillian had spent his life following things that intrigued him, and it had yet to steer him wrong. He hesitated, catching his own train of thought for a moment. It had yet to steer him 'too' wrong. Every scar told a story, and when your trade was stories, sometimes a close scrape was far more useful than an easy ride. Cillian's internal monologue was cut short as the warrior-woman strode past his table, the mace that hung at her hip lightly knocking against the table itself as she passed. Jolted back to reality, Cillian could practically feel the thread of oppurtunity slipping through his fingers. Perhaps if Sylvaine was with him, he could ask for her to share her... unusual perspective, but a quick glance over to the bar told him that she was making no great haste in joining him at the table, still in conversation with the dishevelled dwarf. No, if he wanted to grasp this oppurtunity, whatever this oppurtunity was, he would have to do it on his own. For a moment, he felt himself teetering on a knife-edge, deciding which way to fall. He could seize the thread before it had slipped away entirely, or he could sit back and let it pass, waiting for Sylvaine to eventually return with a drink and a hot meal, whenever that might be. A ghost of a smile crossed Cillian as he considered the question. He had never been the type to let the oppurtunity for a good tale to pass him by, and even with his legs stiff from travel, and his throat dry, he was not about to change now. Putting on his most friendly smile, and trusting that if he had been able to overhear the table, then they would be able to hear him, Cillian turned in his seat to face the elf and the gnome, leaning forward as he spoke. "Greetings, friends. I do not mean to intrude, but I am Cillian Kindellan, a wandering bard, and I have indeed been wandering far. My travelling companions have been pleasant enough, but I am always eager for some... fresher conversation, and the two of you have the appearance of people that are worth knowing. If I can trouble you for your time, perhaps we could get to know each other a little?" Attempt to charm the unlikely pair (Charm) = 5 + 1 = 6</s>
<\|description\|>Cillian Kindellan Human (Caelic Isles) \| 37 \| Male Appearance Cillian does not stand out from the countless travellers on the road. He does not boast the powerful bulk of the warrior, or the lithe silhouette of the rogue, but he still stands at a decent height of around six foot, and beneath his clothing, his frame is one of wiry muscle, marked with dozens of scars and painted with the traditional woad tattoos of his people. His hair is pale, a rare sight among those who hail from the Caelic Isles, and he wears it long and braided, along with a short and unruly beard. His clothing is simple but durable, and he is rarely found without his carefully crafted mail armour, forged by his father's own hand. The spear and shield, often slung across his back, and the dagger on his belt, are also from his father's forge, and along with his armour, they are his last ties to his home, and his family. It is Cillian's eyes that are his most striking feature, a pale but fiercely intense blue that light up with an almost ethereal fire whenever he has a story on his lips, or a foe before him. Personality Cillian has spent years rubbing shoulders with paupers and kings, and this has left him with an easy charm. Coupled with the natural warmth and kinship of those hardy folk that carve out a life the Caelic Isles, Cillian is a friendly figure, although anyone who spends too long in the man's company will realise that there is something a little... unhinged about the wanderer. Perhaps it true that fey blood runs through his veins, or perhaps Cillian has simply spent too long dreaming of mythic creatures and fantastical legends, but despite the welcoming nature of the man, he is clearly not all there. Perhaps it is this that fuels his wandering, and sees him rarely spent too long in place, or with one group. Despite this, he is an earnest companion, an honourable warrior, and a talented entertainer. Background * Wandering Bard * Lower Class * Son of the Blacksmith and the Storyteller History (Will be filled over time) Cillian was born into a simple village, clinging to a windswept rocky island that juts from the stormy waters of the Shrouded Sea. The second son of the village's blacksmith, Cillian had as comfortable a childhood as can be expected from the people that cling to the Caelic Isles, but that is not to say that his upbringing was uneventful. To survive on the islands, people grow up tough, and they grow up fast. Norgardian raids were common, and as soon as Cillian was old enough to stand, he had a spear thrust into his hands, and taught how to use it. It was to Cillian's older brother, Ronan, that the trade of smithing was passed down, and while his brother worked over the forge under his father's watchful eye, Cillian was drawn more to his mother. The women of Cillian's village were as hardy as the men, just as likely to take up a weapon and defend her homestead as the men, and Cillian's mother was no exception. And yet it was in the flickering firelight of the night, as the clan pulled close together in the chieftain's hall, against the darkness and the chill, that Cillian's mother was in her element. It is the druids that tie the Caelic Isles to their gods, but it is the storytellers and bards that tie them to their myths, and their legends, and their history. Cillian's mother was one of those storytellers, and Cillian hung on her every word. All of the village's children enjoyed her stories, gripped by the tales of great beasts and courageous heroes, but for Cillian, it was something different. He had an almost insatiable hunger for these legends, and when he heard them, his eyes lit up, and he felt truly alive, as if he could see these fantastical creatures in the room before him, even as his mother spoke. Whenever other clans visited the village, for trade or to keep relations friendly with their neighbours, Cillian begged them to share their own tales, and when they relented, he drank them in greedily. Motivation Cillian wanders the world, bringing the songs and legends of his people to anyone who has coin to spare, but he has long held ambitions of experiencing a legend of his own, and that ambition has drawn him to the dark depths of the Blackwood... Capabilities Attributes Combat [1/1] * Polearm with Shield (1) * Daggers (1) * Intelligence [1/1] * Legendry (1) * * Charisma [1/1] * Singing (1) * Charm (2) * Health [1/1] * Toughness (1) * Stamina (1) * Rejuvenation (1) Faculties [1/1] * Perception (1) * Intuition (1) * Willpower (1) * Woodcraft (1) Agility [1/1] * Balance (1) * Swimming (1) * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * Spear * Shield * Dagger * Mail Armour Money 5 Royals, 12 Lordlings and 28 Commons Languages Caelic, Northern Tongue</s> <\|message\|>Name Not having given their names, Emilio and Wēlanandaz still could differentiate the now incredulous aristocrats clearly. The first one who complained the loudest was portly, with dark brown hair encompassing his curled hair to sweep down over his face and make a full, groomed goatee. His vest was purple and he seemed to be a bit more annoyed than the others when it came to the topic they spoke of. The next man was tall, with a hawk nose and a frock coat. He had hair on his head, though it was wispy and straw colored. The other looked a bit younger than them, average of height. Though he had strange, indigo eyes and black locks. He sported a dueling saber at his hip, just below a green vest of satin. The portly man looked at Emilio with only the barest hint of suppressed anger. The merchant would see that there were more armed men there than the Knights of the Skull, even if this was clearly their stronghold. The nobles had their own personal guard it seemed. It was hard to judge how many of them there were, though an educated guess would indicate anywhere from twenty, to about sixty to seventy men between all three of them. It was hard to gauge considering they did not seem to be about to venture forth themselves, with many of their men likely out and about performing various tasks. "Who the fuck are you?" The normally well mannered, bearded noble asked Emilio. He took a moment to stare down the merchant before he decided to turn away lest he order something of his guards he might regret later. "A sales pitch isn't necessarily what we need right now." The younger noble remarked, though he did seem more amused and annoyed, and perhaps even intrigued at the man who so brazenly walked up to the three of them discussing this dark business. As for the third fellow, he actually chuckled. It sounded like a chipmunk squeaking when it found it's favorite nut. "On the contrary. Bertram, perhaps this is what we need." He seemed to be referring to the portly one. "A Dwarf forged blade, or ones a stout one can vouche for, could give us an edge on whatever endeavors we find ourselves locked into." He imperiously waved a gesture at Emilio as he continued. "This fellow here seems a daring and smart one as well. Did not our father's father's become rich from such noble pursuits as salesmen." "My father gained nobility from slaying a Malgani Sorcerer that was threatening the Kingdom, Valence." The fat one snapped back. "And was he not able to afford Dwarf forged weaponry because his father peddled wares?" Valence asked. "Nathan, do help me out here." The young one shrugged. "I would like to hear what the Dwarf has to say." @Tony Pajamas</s> <\|message\|>Name "You'll have an easier time sleeping in the barn." The raven-haired woman said, doing her best to sweep whatever dust was on the porch away from the two newcomers. A strange pair by all accounts. Around them, the village was the epitome of the word 'quaint.' Men wore sporting vests of low quality whilst women wore wool dresses, though you could find either sex wearing workman's trousers if they were doing a menial job. There had to have been plenty of trade, as there was very little room for any farmland, and by any measure the soil was not made for it. The hamlet of Berute was situated in a small vale surrounded by jagged faces of rock that could hardly be called mountains. More like upjumped hills made of stone, guarding the small area from the greater Blackwood and it's more pressing dangers, at least that was the idea behind the town's inception. There were two known ways in and out; the southern route and the northern route. The two adventurers had made their way through the south, from left the town of Gladstone a week previously. Their provisions now low, Berute seemed like a dream come true. Lovely thatched houses and little in the appearance of deadly beasts. The only real indication this was still within the Blackwood was the large trees that had been spaced a bit less thickly as they hiked through the glens and glades toward the little village. Cows and other livestock had been grazing in the forest beside them as they had walked, which was likely the town's main source of food and comfort. Now, the two had sought a place to stay for the night as any would expect them to. As it were, that didn't seem to be working out. "Look..." the woman said, leaning her broom on the wall and facing the two. She was a pretty woman with green eyes, though it was easy to imagine them flaring in severity if she grew angry. "I do deeply apologize for the lack of space. But we do have a barn. It's clean and we can provide some blanket. All you'll need to do is pay for the food." A cart passed behind them, two handsome horses carrying a load of crates. Behind it, an Elf played a tune on a lye as two Dwarves grumbled, hauling sacks of grain while trying not to tell the elf to be quiet too harshly. Truthfully it was a beautiful melody, but Dwarves weren't elven fans at the best of times. @Tortoise</s>	<\|message\|>Cillian Kindellan Cillian had risen to his feet as he spoke, and as the unusual pair turned to look at him, he took a tentative step closer to their table, the well-rehearsed smile never leaving his face. If nothing else, his introduction seemed to distract the pair from squabbling over the fat coin purse, and that was as good a start as any. The pause in bickering was only short-lived, and Cillian quickly got the impression that the elf and the gnome were old friends, arguing back and forth, each looking to gain the upper hand. Cillian's smile didn't falter, but behind the pale blue eyes, his mind was racing to keep up with the overlapping intricacies of the conversation. He had the distinct feeling that he was being played, the pair perhaps sniffing out the oppurtunity that a fumbling newcomer might present. He had names now at least, but even those set him ill at ease. The elf was Saskia, and the gnome Calvin, but it had been the gnome's reaction that had surprised Cillian. Was it simply being introduced as a sidekick that had taken him by surprise, or was it the name itself? Before Cillian could ponder too long on the thought, his mind caught up with his ears, and he realised that the pair were looking at him expectantly. Ever the showman, Cillian grinned widely again as he spread his arms wide. Perhaps the pair were looking to swindle him, or perhaps it was simply idle curiosity, but whatever the reason, they had agreed to be his audience, and Cillian had never been one to walk away from a willing audience. Taverns had been his stage countless times in the past, and despite the unfamiliarity of the city beyond the building's walls, the bard was in his element, the fire behind his eyes slowly flickering into a blaze as he spoke. "I have many tales to tell, if you only have the time, but it is a tale that I cannot yet tell that has brought me to this fair city. Ever since I was a boy, clinging to my mother's skirts, I was haunted by dreams of darkness. But this was not the darkness that plagues all children, the darkness of shadows and things that go bump in the night, this darkness was deep, and it called my name. It was only as I grew older, and heard the tales and legends of the world, that I learned the name of that darkness. The Blackwood. Ever since that day, the darkness has continued to call to me, and although my path has been long and winding, I always knew that it would eventually lead me here. The inky darkness waits on the other side of the raging waters, and I know that my fate lies within it. I am a man of legends and grand tales, and the Blackwood will grant me my greatest stories, I need only for someone to strike the first match. Friends, the two of you strike me as seasoned travellers, familiar with these parts. I wonder then, if your paths have ever led you beyond the water, and into the darkness beyond..." Cillian allowed himself to tail off, the sound of his own heart pounding in his ears, a single pale eyebrow raised towards the pair. He hoped that his hunch was correct, that the unusual pair would not be lingering in Greybridge without having travelled into the Blackwood, or at least know the tales of those that had. Perhaps this was a dead end, perhaps it would simply an oppurtunity to waste away some time, but Cillian could not shake the clinging sense that there was something else here, something more. Attempt to charm the unlikely pair, in hopes that it might loosen lips (Charm) = 3 + 1 = 4</s>
<\|description\|>Cillian Kindellan Human (Caelic Isles) \| 37 \| Male Appearance Cillian does not stand out from the countless travellers on the road. He does not boast the powerful bulk of the warrior, or the lithe silhouette of the rogue, but he still stands at a decent height of around six foot, and beneath his clothing, his frame is one of wiry muscle, marked with dozens of scars and painted with the traditional woad tattoos of his people. His hair is pale, a rare sight among those who hail from the Caelic Isles, and he wears it long and braided, along with a short and unruly beard. His clothing is simple but durable, and he is rarely found without his carefully crafted mail armour, forged by his father's own hand. The spear and shield, often slung across his back, and the dagger on his belt, are also from his father's forge, and along with his armour, they are his last ties to his home, and his family. It is Cillian's eyes that are his most striking feature, a pale but fiercely intense blue that light up with an almost ethereal fire whenever he has a story on his lips, or a foe before him. Personality Cillian has spent years rubbing shoulders with paupers and kings, and this has left him with an easy charm. Coupled with the natural warmth and kinship of those hardy folk that carve out a life the Caelic Isles, Cillian is a friendly figure, although anyone who spends too long in the man's company will realise that there is something a little... unhinged about the wanderer. Perhaps it true that fey blood runs through his veins, or perhaps Cillian has simply spent too long dreaming of mythic creatures and fantastical legends, but despite the welcoming nature of the man, he is clearly not all there. Perhaps it is this that fuels his wandering, and sees him rarely spent too long in place, or with one group. Despite this, he is an earnest companion, an honourable warrior, and a talented entertainer. Background * Wandering Bard * Lower Class * Son of the Blacksmith and the Storyteller History (Will be filled over time) Cillian was born into a simple village, clinging to a windswept rocky island that juts from the stormy waters of the Shrouded Sea. The second son of the village's blacksmith, Cillian had as comfortable a childhood as can be expected from the people that cling to the Caelic Isles, but that is not to say that his upbringing was uneventful. To survive on the islands, people grow up tough, and they grow up fast. Norgardian raids were common, and as soon as Cillian was old enough to stand, he had a spear thrust into his hands, and taught how to use it. It was to Cillian's older brother, Ronan, that the trade of smithing was passed down, and while his brother worked over the forge under his father's watchful eye, Cillian was drawn more to his mother. The women of Cillian's village were as hardy as the men, just as likely to take up a weapon and defend her homestead as the men, and Cillian's mother was no exception. And yet it was in the flickering firelight of the night, as the clan pulled close together in the chieftain's hall, against the darkness and the chill, that Cillian's mother was in her element. It is the druids that tie the Caelic Isles to their gods, but it is the storytellers and bards that tie them to their myths, and their legends, and their history. Cillian's mother was one of those storytellers, and Cillian hung on her every word. All of the village's children enjoyed her stories, gripped by the tales of great beasts and courageous heroes, but for Cillian, it was something different. He had an almost insatiable hunger for these legends, and when he heard them, his eyes lit up, and he felt truly alive, as if he could see these fantastical creatures in the room before him, even as his mother spoke. Whenever other clans visited the village, for trade or to keep relations friendly with their neighbours, Cillian begged them to share their own tales, and when they relented, he drank them in greedily. Motivation Cillian wanders the world, bringing the songs and legends of his people to anyone who has coin to spare, but he has long held ambitions of experiencing a legend of his own, and that ambition has drawn him to the dark depths of the Blackwood... Capabilities Attributes Combat [1/1] * Polearm with Shield (1) * Daggers (1) * Intelligence [1/1] * Legendry (1) * * Charisma [1/1] * Singing (1) * Charm (2) * Health [1/1] * Toughness (1) * Stamina (1) * Rejuvenation (1) Faculties [1/1] * Perception (1) * Intuition (1) * Willpower (1) * Woodcraft (1) Agility [1/1] * Balance (1) * Swimming (1) * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * Spear * Shield * Dagger * Mail Armour Money 5 Royals, 12 Lordlings and 28 Commons Languages Caelic, Northern Tongue</s> <\|message\|>Name The tavern halted. The low music and the clinking of glass were the only sounds that graced the room after Cillian had spoken. It seemed his story and way with words left the room in rapt-fascination, and to anyone it would have been comical to look at the two patrons that he was speaking to. Calvin had wide eyes, looking to and fro between Cillian and Saskia to see what his companion thought. For her part, Saskia looked equal parts impressed, dumbfounded, and a little weirded out. "Um..." She began. "No, not me." Calvin said, waving his hands and shaking his head. "I'm just a city boy." "I've been there." Saskia nodded, clearing her throat. "Not for very long, but I've had to travel through there once with a caravan. Ran into a few beasts that I'd rather not run into again. Were you wanting to know what lies west of here? I could regaile you myself but..." She raised an eyebrow, a hand with tantilizing fingers curling toward's Cillian. "my memory is a little fuzzy...maybe a silver Lordling could listen my lips?" "Two silver lordlings?" Calvin piped in with a wink. Saskia elbowed him gently, but not too gently. She glared at him. "I have the information, I'm the one getting a lordling. He's a smart man, yes?" Her last sentence had her looking back at him, lips curved into a smile. "Information is my trade. I may lie, but never when I do business." Charm roll from Saskia: 4+2=6. You can contest and roll willpower if you so choose. Or you can trust her.</s> <\|message\|>Torsten Meier The sunlight cut through the forest like a razor sharp sword pierces one's torso. The pain in Torsten's side had improved. It wasn't as bad as he anticipated, but he'd been injured before and the pain was tolerable. He knew he was lucky to be alive and knew he needed to keep moving. He figured he would be healed in a day or two; hopefully. Breakfast was decent. Oz caught some rabbit and the three sucked on the juicy bits. Torsten inhaled his portion as he was quite famished. Lord knows he needed the protein in the meat. After sterilizing the campsite as best they could, they ventured further to the south in order to continue their trek into the unknown. Conversation was light, about nothing in particular. They focused more on the sights and sounds of the forest around them. Their hunter's ears were tuned in and didn't want to be surprised. Torsten took the trail slot in the column as Oz, the largest took center. He allows the lighter Ulf Gunnerson or Wolf to take the point. Wolf was an agile hunter, quick on his feet. He would be able to evade an attack faster than the others. Torsten removed his bow, notched an arrow and prepared for whatever might present itself upon the trail ahead. It didn't take long for a situation to appear. A scream of sorts erupted in their ears. All three men prepared for a battle, not knowing what was coming. It just didn't sound like the orcs they dealt with the day prior. Oz removed the 5' 6" two-handed sword from its scabbard and held it at the ready on his right side. He was prepared to bring pain upon any foe who threatened him. Wolf removed his shield from his back, securing it to his left arm and a small sword in his right. He held the left side of the trail. Between the two and three steps to the rear was Torsten with his bow up and read to draw. The odd fellow stumbling over the undergrowth in front of them was more bulbous than sinewy. All three men breathed a sigh of relief realizing they would not have to kill this one. The man was in a panic paying more attention to the auburn-haired young woman chasing him. Her hair was cut short, more like a man, than a woman, Oz thought. Torsten found her mildly attractive and Wolf wondered how quickly he could dispatch both to the underworld. "Stop!" Torsten yelled at the pair, who seemingly halted all movement, freezing in their steps looking up at the trio of northerners who barred their path. "What are you doing here?!"</s> <\|message\|>Mari In truth, Mari was a little taken aback by how much Po seemed to know. She hadn't expected to learn anything useful when she asked, and now that she had a crude map drawn up for her, she still didn't quite believe it. It couldn't be that easy, right? It had to be the wrong temple, or it had to be more difficult to find than it seemed. Only one way to find out, of course. "Maybe," she answered, putting a finger on the map and sliding it closer to her. Her eyes didn't leave it, studying the bits Po added to it one by one. "Just more to look forward to tomorrow, I guess." She was certain her excitement was slipping through. At this point even a fight didn't sound too bad, if it meant she might learn something about her goal. "Okay," she said, nodding and taking the map, folding it up neatly. "I should probably get some rest, then. Long day ahead of us tomorrow." She slid her chair back and got to her feet. "Thank you, Po. And good night." She turned to head to her room and made it one step before she turned back. "Oh, and it's... Daughter of Rán. Not sister. We're just sisters to each other. Um." She paused, and then nodded again. "Good night!" Reddening a little, she turned and headed off towards her room, intent on sleeping off the ale before she had to go adventuring.</s>	<\|message\|>Cillian Kindellan Cillian's chest was still heaving as he caught his breath, but he couldn't stop the smile from spreading across his face. He could feel the eyes of the room upon him, and he felt almost overwhelmingly alive. He was in his element, a player on a stage, the ever-present flame whipped into an inferno. His intended audience seemed a little stunned by his performance at first, until the elf spoke, her voice seeming to finally break the spell that had descended over the tavern. He listened to the two talk for a moment, relieved to hear that his hunch wasn't entirely unfounded, before his eyes were drawn to the outstretched hand of the elf maiden. His brief visit to the city of Greybridge had already proven to be an expensive one, but the bard was no stranger to the concept of money greasing the wheels of information. Perhaps her knowledge was indeed scant, perhaps she was even lying to him, attempting to swindle a newcomer to the city, but something in her eyes spoke to Cillian. The two of them shared a trade, even if they practised their craft in different ways. It was information that Cillian wove into his tales, stitched into his songs, and he saw a glimpse of a kindred spirit in the elf. Cillian could tell grand legends of lands that he had never set foot in, recount the myths of people long dead, if this 'Saskia' traded in information, then it was not only her own experiences that she could share with Cillian, it was the experiences of every other soul that has pressed a coin into her outstretched palm. With practiced ease, Cillian reached into his coin purse, and pulled free a silver Lordling. He toyed with it in his hand for a moment, letting it run between his fingers, before taking another step closer to the unusual pair and dropping it into the outstretched hand of the elf. "I hope that this will serve to sharpen your mind, friend. I look forward to hearing your tale."</s>
<\|description\|>Cillian Kindellan Human (Caelic Isles) \| 37 \| Male Appearance Cillian does not stand out from the countless travellers on the road. He does not boast the powerful bulk of the warrior, or the lithe silhouette of the rogue, but he still stands at a decent height of around six foot, and beneath his clothing, his frame is one of wiry muscle, marked with dozens of scars and painted with the traditional woad tattoos of his people. His hair is pale, a rare sight among those who hail from the Caelic Isles, and he wears it long and braided, along with a short and unruly beard. His clothing is simple but durable, and he is rarely found without his carefully crafted mail armour, forged by his father's own hand. The spear and shield, often slung across his back, and the dagger on his belt, are also from his father's forge, and along with his armour, they are his last ties to his home, and his family. It is Cillian's eyes that are his most striking feature, a pale but fiercely intense blue that light up with an almost ethereal fire whenever he has a story on his lips, or a foe before him. Personality Cillian has spent years rubbing shoulders with paupers and kings, and this has left him with an easy charm. Coupled with the natural warmth and kinship of those hardy folk that carve out a life the Caelic Isles, Cillian is a friendly figure, although anyone who spends too long in the man's company will realise that there is something a little... unhinged about the wanderer. Perhaps it true that fey blood runs through his veins, or perhaps Cillian has simply spent too long dreaming of mythic creatures and fantastical legends, but despite the welcoming nature of the man, he is clearly not all there. Perhaps it is this that fuels his wandering, and sees him rarely spent too long in place, or with one group. Despite this, he is an earnest companion, an honourable warrior, and a talented entertainer. Background * Wandering Bard * Lower Class * Son of the Blacksmith and the Storyteller History (Will be filled over time) Cillian was born into a simple village, clinging to a windswept rocky island that juts from the stormy waters of the Shrouded Sea. The second son of the village's blacksmith, Cillian had as comfortable a childhood as can be expected from the people that cling to the Caelic Isles, but that is not to say that his upbringing was uneventful. To survive on the islands, people grow up tough, and they grow up fast. Norgardian raids were common, and as soon as Cillian was old enough to stand, he had a spear thrust into his hands, and taught how to use it. It was to Cillian's older brother, Ronan, that the trade of smithing was passed down, and while his brother worked over the forge under his father's watchful eye, Cillian was drawn more to his mother. The women of Cillian's village were as hardy as the men, just as likely to take up a weapon and defend her homestead as the men, and Cillian's mother was no exception. And yet it was in the flickering firelight of the night, as the clan pulled close together in the chieftain's hall, against the darkness and the chill, that Cillian's mother was in her element. It is the druids that tie the Caelic Isles to their gods, but it is the storytellers and bards that tie them to their myths, and their legends, and their history. Cillian's mother was one of those storytellers, and Cillian hung on her every word. All of the village's children enjoyed her stories, gripped by the tales of great beasts and courageous heroes, but for Cillian, it was something different. He had an almost insatiable hunger for these legends, and when he heard them, his eyes lit up, and he felt truly alive, as if he could see these fantastical creatures in the room before him, even as his mother spoke. Whenever other clans visited the village, for trade or to keep relations friendly with their neighbours, Cillian begged them to share their own tales, and when they relented, he drank them in greedily. Motivation Cillian wanders the world, bringing the songs and legends of his people to anyone who has coin to spare, but he has long held ambitions of experiencing a legend of his own, and that ambition has drawn him to the dark depths of the Blackwood... Capabilities Attributes Combat [1/1] * Polearm with Shield (1) * Daggers (1) * Intelligence [1/1] * Legendry (1) * * Charisma [1/1] * Singing (1) * Charm (2) * Health [1/1] * Toughness (1) * Stamina (1) * Rejuvenation (1) Faculties [1/1] * Perception (1) * Intuition (1) * Willpower (1) * Woodcraft (1) Agility [1/1] * Balance (1) * Swimming (1) * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * Spear * Shield * Dagger * Mail Armour Money 5 Royals, 12 Lordlings and 28 Commons Languages Caelic, Northern Tongue</s> <\|message\|>Torsten Meier The young woman chasing the fattened weasely older man came to a halt while the other lay sprawled across the ground. He looked up at Torsten and his friends as he slowly regained his footing. The man could not decide whether his pursuer was a werewolf or a witch, rendering Torsten to believe she wasn't either. She simply had the upper hand and he was looking for a way out. Torsten would not accommodate him. "No one likes a cheat, you fat oaf," Torsten decided to side with the witch, if she was one. He honestly believed she was simply smarter than the dumb fat man who allowed a woman to get the better of him in a card game. Some people will blame things out of their control on magic or just plain bad luck. Torsten decided this was one of those situations. "Ma'am, have you reclaimed your possessions?" Torsten asked the young woman lowering his bow. "Sir, I recommend you return to where you come from and pursue a more honest means of acquiring wealth. I look down on common thieves such as you. Now get out of here." Torsten looked at Ulf and Njal. He made a gesture as though they should lower their weapons and relax.</s> <\|message\|>Mari Mari gains... +1 Perception +1 Diplomacy A dragon. Brilliant. Mari would take her chances against orcs over facing a dragon dwelling in an acidic swamp, but if indeed it slumbered, perhaps it was the best bet. Three days' travel or more sounded like an ordeal, but Mari had the suspicion that any travel in these woods was risky to begin with. She had enough rations for herself, and could stretch them if need be. Probably wise to do so regardless, in case matters on their route got complicated. It was a diverse and interesting group of adventurers she'd manage to attach herself to, and Mari doubted that feeling of being the "new girl" would go away any time soon. They all seemed to know each other and have experience working together, to some degree. She walked alongside Phyrrae as they set out, quiet at first, keeping an eye on her surroundings and a hand always near her blade's hilt. The woods were calm in the morning, beautiful even, and she made a point to enjoy it while she had the chance. "You've a quick hand," she said quietly to the elven woman. "Not the first time you've won coin from Orek at that game, I'm guessing."</s>	<\|message\|>Cillian Kindellan Cillian could barely hear the elf over the roaring in his ears. He had heard the stories about the Blackwood, huddled around distant campfires or above the merriment of a dozen different taverns, but they still lit the fire within himself. Lost souls, fey spirits, an orc horde, demonic cults, if even half of the things that the elf was saying were true, then Cillian would find enough adventure to write a hundred songs. He had always known that his path would lead him into the darkness of the Blackwood, but even as the fire blazed into an inferno, he caught himself. When he was a younger man, he had been hot-headed, impetuous, too quick to throw himself into the jaws of danger just to feel the rush of adrenaline, just to feel alive, but he was older now, and he had not made it this far without cooling off a little. Wiser? Perhaps not, but he had enough scars across his body to have learnt a few lessons. His first instinct was still to leap at the opportunity, and the elf's words were more than enough to make Cillian want to plunge into the very heart of the Blackwood, but age, and experience, had given Cillian enough of a second instinct to stop and think. The spell seemed to break, and the hunger pains in Cillian's stomach suddenly came to life again, almost making him wince. Even the drink the elf's hand was enough to make his mouth dry. The Blackwood had been calling to Cillian for as long as he could remember, he was sure that he could ignore the voice for at least another night. Letting the easy smile on his face remain unflinching, Cillian nodded his thanks towards the elf. "You have been more than helpful, friend, thank you. I hope I am not imposing too greatly if I offer to buy you both a drink for your time. Something hot to eat perhaps?" Cillian was a stranger in a strange town, and the unusual pair across the table were the closest thing to friends that he had. If nothing else, they seemed as if they would be good company while he filled his belly and satisfied his thirst, and if he was to head across the river and into the depths of the forest, then this elf maiden, this 'Saskia' was the closest thing to a guide that he had found. If he could tease some more information out of her for the price of another flagon? Then he would consider the day a success. Attempt to convince the pair to stay awhile and share a drink (Charm) = 5 + 2 = 7</s>
<\|description\|>Cillian Kindellan Human (Caelic Isles) \| 37 \| Male Appearance Cillian does not stand out from the countless travellers on the road. He does not boast the powerful bulk of the warrior, or the lithe silhouette of the rogue, but he still stands at a decent height of around six foot, and beneath his clothing, his frame is one of wiry muscle, marked with dozens of scars and painted with the traditional woad tattoos of his people. His hair is pale, a rare sight among those who hail from the Caelic Isles, and he wears it long and braided, along with a short and unruly beard. His clothing is simple but durable, and he is rarely found without his carefully crafted mail armour, forged by his father's own hand. The spear and shield, often slung across his back, and the dagger on his belt, are also from his father's forge, and along with his armour, they are his last ties to his home, and his family. It is Cillian's eyes that are his most striking feature, a pale but fiercely intense blue that light up with an almost ethereal fire whenever he has a story on his lips, or a foe before him. Personality Cillian has spent years rubbing shoulders with paupers and kings, and this has left him with an easy charm. Coupled with the natural warmth and kinship of those hardy folk that carve out a life the Caelic Isles, Cillian is a friendly figure, although anyone who spends too long in the man's company will realise that there is something a little... unhinged about the wanderer. Perhaps it true that fey blood runs through his veins, or perhaps Cillian has simply spent too long dreaming of mythic creatures and fantastical legends, but despite the welcoming nature of the man, he is clearly not all there. Perhaps it is this that fuels his wandering, and sees him rarely spent too long in place, or with one group. Despite this, he is an earnest companion, an honourable warrior, and a talented entertainer. Background * Wandering Bard * Lower Class * Son of the Blacksmith and the Storyteller History (Will be filled over time) Cillian was born into a simple village, clinging to a windswept rocky island that juts from the stormy waters of the Shrouded Sea. The second son of the village's blacksmith, Cillian had as comfortable a childhood as can be expected from the people that cling to the Caelic Isles, but that is not to say that his upbringing was uneventful. To survive on the islands, people grow up tough, and they grow up fast. Norgardian raids were common, and as soon as Cillian was old enough to stand, he had a spear thrust into his hands, and taught how to use it. It was to Cillian's older brother, Ronan, that the trade of smithing was passed down, and while his brother worked over the forge under his father's watchful eye, Cillian was drawn more to his mother. The women of Cillian's village were as hardy as the men, just as likely to take up a weapon and defend her homestead as the men, and Cillian's mother was no exception. And yet it was in the flickering firelight of the night, as the clan pulled close together in the chieftain's hall, against the darkness and the chill, that Cillian's mother was in her element. It is the druids that tie the Caelic Isles to their gods, but it is the storytellers and bards that tie them to their myths, and their legends, and their history. Cillian's mother was one of those storytellers, and Cillian hung on her every word. All of the village's children enjoyed her stories, gripped by the tales of great beasts and courageous heroes, but for Cillian, it was something different. He had an almost insatiable hunger for these legends, and when he heard them, his eyes lit up, and he felt truly alive, as if he could see these fantastical creatures in the room before him, even as his mother spoke. Whenever other clans visited the village, for trade or to keep relations friendly with their neighbours, Cillian begged them to share their own tales, and when they relented, he drank them in greedily. Motivation Cillian wanders the world, bringing the songs and legends of his people to anyone who has coin to spare, but he has long held ambitions of experiencing a legend of his own, and that ambition has drawn him to the dark depths of the Blackwood... Capabilities Attributes Combat [1/1] * Polearm with Shield (1) * Daggers (1) * Intelligence [1/1] * Legendry (1) * * Charisma [1/1] * Singing (1) * Charm (2) * Health [1/1] * Toughness (1) * Stamina (1) * Rejuvenation (1) Faculties [1/1] * Perception (1) * Intuition (1) * Willpower (1) * Woodcraft (1) Agility [1/1] * Balance (1) * Swimming (1) * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * Spear * Shield * Dagger * Mail Armour Money 5 Royals, 12 Lordlings and 28 Commons Languages Caelic, Northern Tongue</s> <\|message\|>Name The sun was still in the sky, but it had notably lowered into the west, casting light along the table as they spoke. It was clear the Elf and Gnome weren't entirely used to a stranger passing through Greybridge to seek company with them out of the blue, as the two exchanged looks when he asked if he could buy them a hot meal and a drink. Despite speculating, it was clear Calvin was up for it to a point. As if on cue, his small stomach growled audibly, causing Saskia to roll her eyes. "That's kind," Saskia remarked, eyeing Cillian for a moment. "We have been here for awhile, however." "Not too long." Calvin interjected, elbowing her. "Besides, we haven't eaten anything since we sat down. We can at least enjoy a meal from our new friend before we depart, eh?" Two elves with braids and riding leathers strode into the front door as a few laborers stalked out into the streets. The city seemed as lively as ever, with raucous conversations mixed with hushed meetings in the corner of the Iron Star. It drowned out the silence of Saskia, who shrugged her shapely shoulders after she deliberated. She seemed to lower her wariness quite a bit actually. "I guess I should relax. After all I just made a fortune and you're wanting to buy me dinner. What's not to like?" She replied, calling over two drinks for her and Calvin on Cillian's dime. She got a Banian Whiskey, one of the strongest recreational drinks menfolk had. "Though, I am curious. What makes you so enamored with the Blackwood, my friend? You do know it's a death trap. Even a bard would have a hard time finding glory in there without a touch of death. You don't even have a Knight or monster slayer to follow. Will you go in alone?" "Oh and the city is always safe?" Calvin asked. "At least the city is predictable. The Blackwood is filled with nameless things and creepy crawlies." Saskia shuddered for a moment, though her comfort returned tenfold when she got her whiskey. Calvin received and Andredian mead for a light buzz and a warm stomach to go with his meal. "Yes, tell us your end goal, friend." Calvin suggested to Cillian.</s> <\|message\|>Mari Mari couldn't help a little laugh at Kane's question. "A warrior? Yes. Powerful? Not especially. Not yet, anyway. That's partly why I'm here." Her few years of dedicated training gave her an edge, she imagined, over the average bandit or amateur swordsman, but basic weapon skills were not what made her little group special. "Do you know of Rán? The Widow of the Seas? She has a temple here, somewhere in the Blackwood. I've trained with her Daughters, and if I can find the temple and complete whatever the goddess has in store for me inside, I'll become one of them." She grabbed the swinging symbol of Rán hanging from her belt to show her companion as evidence. "It doesn't happen very often. Daughters of Rán live very long lives through the Widow's gifts, so we're not making pilgrimages to forgotten places every year, you know?" Asherah never did tell Mari how old she was exactly, but some of her sisters speculated at minimum several hundred years old. For a human to reach that was of course only possible through magic. She occasionally glanced at Kane as she walked, but for the most part Mari kept her focus on her surroundings as they went deeper into the woods. Nowhere here was safe, and while the casual banter of the group was reassuring, Mari did not want to be caught off guard by anything out here. d8+1 = 3+1 = 4</s>	<\|message\|>Cillian Kindellan For a moment, Cillian held his breath. His offer seemed to hang in the air, fragile, and as the unusual pair glanced at each other, he did not know which way their decision would fall. He had spent much of his life rubbing shoulders with strangers, and he had always found an ease in forming brief, fleeting moments of companionship, but even so, the air seemed to crackle with anticipation. Not for the first time, it was the small frame of Calvin that came to the wandering bards aid. Cillian's face broke into a wide grin as he watched the elf-maidens shoulders shrug. For the next brief moment at least, Cillian would have company, and most importantly, a potential audience. As Saskia called for a drink, Cillian followed her lead, signalling not only a mead for himself, but also three hot meals. Calvin had made it clear that he wouldn't turn down some food, and if the elf wasn't hungry, then Cillian's growling stomach would certainly be willing to pick up the slack. He listened intently as the pair continued to bicker, his face not showing any sign of the thoughts whirling through his mind. The clear dislike of the Blackwood in Saskia's voice may go some way to crushing his initial ideas of creating an unusual travelling party, but that same bile in her words suggested that he was right when he suspected that she knew more about what lurked in the shadows than she might have already told him. The sun was dipping towards the horizon as they continued to talk, but Cillian had already conceded himself to the fact that his long dreamed about voyage into the calling darkness would have to wait at least until dawn. If he had to spend an evening in this strange city, then he could think of worse places than in a bustling tavern! A lull in the conversation alerted the bard to the fact that his input was required, and the thread tugged him back to the moment. Two expectant faces were looking at him from across the table, but Cillian's smile did not falter. A lifetime of a wandering mind had instilled in Cillian the ability to have his ears act almost independently, and it took only a moment for the thread to remind him of the question that had been levelled at him. Cillian's relaxed smile broke into a wide grin, and he felt the fire in his heart begin to burn brighter again. The tavern was beginning to fill as the evening drew in, and Cillian was careful to raise his voice a little, both to be heard above the bustling noise, but also with the intention that if there was curious ears nearby, they would be able to hear his words. "Why am I drawn to the Blackwood? For the same reason that the baby bird leaps from it's nest. It is in my blood. All of my life, I knew that my path would lead me here, that I would travel across the river and into the heart of darkness itself. Will I go in alone? I admit, I do not yet know. The Blackwood has haunted my dreams, it's call like that of a siren, but those dreams only show my path, they do not show whether I walk alone, or with other's at my side. Perhaps before this night is out I will have a companion, perhaps there are comrades waiting for me across the river, or perhaps I am destined to travel into the darkness alone. For now though, I am happy to eat, drink and be merry, for only the gods know what the new day will bring!" A tankard of mead had arrived at Cillian's elbow, and he was quick to grab it, raising it across the table towards the unlikely pair. His smile was wide and warm, his eyes flashing in the firelight that lit the tavern. "To your good health, friends, and to being merry!" Pay careful attention to the reactions of Saskia and Calvin, as well as the rest of the tavern, at his mention of companions, to see if he can gauge any interested parties (Perception) = 4 + 1 = 5</s>
<\|description\|>Emilio Virtoli Dre Costa \| 27 \| Male Appearance Skin darkened by the sun and with a natural tan from his Dre Costa ancestry are immediately obvious when looking over the man. Black hair is kept managed and cut above or tied above his shoulders to keep it proper and controlled. Rich Hazel Eyes stand out surprisingly beside a strongly defined nose. He has some strength to his body but not that of the standard day worker, as loading and unloading is only occasional to his travels. Enough to keep fit but not especially athletic. More importantly to him is his fine black dress clothes for when he's about town, sleeves puffed slightly and tailored to his form. Otherwise he tends towards simpler traveling clothes so as to save on costs and not immediately display wealth to unkindly onlookers. Personality Emilio is boisterous and cordial to an almost obnoxious degree when meeting him. Aiming to please and get into people's good graces quickly. Its a learned but almost impossible to stop behavior as it leaks into his casual conversations. Both a benefit and off putting given the state of the world and the places he visits at times. He can be serious when it comes to things but he tries to use good spirits to catch people's attention. Background * Profession (Merchant) * Class * Heritage (Son of Alivse Virtoli, his father and a former merchant, now a simple laborer. Son of Gioia Vortoli, his mother and a part-time seamstress part time inn maid.) History (Optional) Emilio had been born into unfortunate times for his family, having to live effectively on the streets for the young years of his life as his father had been barred and denounced after a shipment went wrong. His superiors had shifted the blame of a lost caravan solely upon him and their word carried heavier weight. Conveniently of course this kept him not just from receiving any share of the last deals payment, but of his typical month and beyond share. Thankfully for Emilio, there was still some sympathetic contacts that had figured it was a stroke of bad luck and offered to take the boy in and apprentice him. Though he lacked any formal education at first, used to that of what was needed as a street urchin, he picked up fairly quickly to the work. He trained his mind for many of the tasks needed and practiced his silver tongue on convincing the other children of things fairly often. Mostly kept to working as an assistant, helping pack and load different wares, eventually he was allowed to shadow other members of the local company to trade dealings and on travels. This still kept him mostly as the physical laborer grabbing whatever was needed, but it gave him some practical and on the job experience. It would be numerous years of this cycle but it all served as part of the apprenticeship. Eventually, he would be entrusted to handle smaller deliveries of good on his own and kept to smaller collections. Slowly a realization set in that he wouldn't be entrusted to larger tasks locally given the damage done to his family's name. He'd have to set out as an independent for any hope of true forward progress. Quickly he made his mind up and gathered what savings he had to pursue it. Purchasing his own cart and pack animal, a (hopefully) reliable donkey named Bertillo, he had what bare supplies he needed. Ledgers would have to start small and personal, kept in a single smaller diary on his person but he would seek his own fortune. As to where he would seek to find it? That would be wherever the world would drift him. Underscoring all this was the true harshness of the world he had yet to truly experience. Negotiations and belligerence of man was all well known to him. He had seen a small bestiary of animals on his travels, but he had yet to truly experience the terrors that lay out there. Motivation Emilio enjoys traveling the world and hopes to open his own proper trading company in the future. This is partially to spite those that had put his family in a rough spot and to bolster his family's name. Rich tales and getting to hear the going on-s of each new place keep invigorating him, and it is a comfort to revisit old stomping grounds and see how everyone has fared. There is the rare hope his talents might prove useful in some bigger way in the future that will land him big, but he's content to keep on with the way things are for now. Capabilities Attributes Combat [1/1] * One-handed Swords 1 * * Intelligence [1/1] * Appraisal 2 * Literacy 1 * Math 1 * Linguistics 1 Charisma [1/1] * Diplomacy 3 * Charm 1 * Voice 1 Health [1/1] * Hearing 1 * * Faculties [1/1] * Intuition 1 * * Agility [1/1] * * * Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * Cart + Draw Donkey * Merchant Clothes * Sabre * Personal Ledger Money 4 royals, 2 lordlings, 85 commons Languages Dre Costan, Northern, Elvish</s> <\|message\|>Cillian Kindellan The air smelt like earth, the scent of it filling Cillian's nose and causing a smile to dance across his face. The smell of rain always reminded Cillian of his home, and those memories warmed him, despite the chill that still clung in the air. His village had been simple, a handful of longhouses clinging to a windswept island, lashed by storms and buffeted by the wild waters of the Shrouded Sea, but sitting by the hearth, with a fire roaring, you could forget all about the outside world, aside from the sound of rain on the thatched roof. It had been there, huddled around the fire, that Cillian had first heard his mother's stories, and even now, years later, Cillian could still remember the feeling of the flame being lit in his very core, and he could still remember every word of the story. It had been the tale of the fey queen, whose haunting wailing was a harbinger of death to all who heard it. With the flickering fire casting dancing shadows across the earthen walls, the tale had terrified the other children, but it had gripped Cillian. As soon as dawn had broken the next day, he had rushed, and covered every inch of the island, searching for the fey queen. He could have sworn he heard her wailing in the howling of the wind, caught sight of her blood red hair moving through the heather, but she kept slipping through his fingers. He only abandoned his search when his mother found him, shivering from the cold, and brought him inside, soothing him with more fantastical legends. A lifetime of practice had left Cillian's feet able to act almost on their own, continuing their steady march along a path or trail while Cillian's mind was far away, but no matter how distant Cillian's thoughts strayed from the reality of the present, there was always a steady, albeit tenuous, tether. And that tether tugged as the road began to grow busier. Perhaps calling it a road was giving the winding path through the Flontane Forest too much credit, and as Cillian glanced downwards, he saw that black mud clung to his boots with every step forward, thick tendrils seeming to fight his very progress. Seemingly as an after-thought, Cillian looked around him until he saw the slight, wiry figure of his companion, standing out from the crowd of bedraggled refugees by her jet black hair as much as by the sword he had never seen her without. Cillian had spent years around an ever-changing cast of people, but there was still something about the woman that intrigued him. He had mistaken her for little more than a girl when he had first glimpsed her on the road, but that was before he had noticed the scars, and seen that the sword on her hip was more than just part of her attire. The days merged into one on the road, so he could not say for sure how long ago they had started travelling together, but in that time, he still did not fully understand her, and that was what intrigued him so keenly. Sylvaine de Vermeille. Even the name rolled off his tongue with a sort of fantasy to it, conjuring up the image of some dashing heroine, and yet Cillian had quickly come to realise that heroine was not a word that he would use to describe his unusual travelling companion. She oozed with charm, but the smiles that flashed across her face was like that of a predator, toying with it's prey, and despite the time they had spent travelling together, Cillian had always half-expected her to cut his throat and dissapear into the night. Thankfully, his expectations were yet to be fulfilled. The tether tugged Cillian towards reality a second time, with an undeniable air or impatience, and he turned in time to see the forest falling away, and the bulk of Greybridge rising before him. If Cillian needed any reminder of how far he was from home, Greybridge served as a perfect one. He had heard tales of the city during his travels, but it was still a haunting sight. All dark stone, it seemed to crouch over the raging river Heathric like some vast mythical creature, and for good or for bad, it was towards this creature that the crowd around Cillian was drawn towards. For himself, and from what he could, for Sylvaine as well, it was not the city that called him, but what lay beyond the city. The river Heathric was fierce, Greybridge standing as the only crossing point for days travel in either direction, but across it's waters was the sprawling darkness of the accursed Blackwood. It had been from his mother that Cillian had first heard the tales of the shadowy depths, the nightmares that shifted through the trees, and now that he was this close, he could swear that he could hear it calling out to him, like a siren's song. He barely registered the halberdiers that stepped out through the gateway, even as the crowd around him drew back, but he was still tethered enough to hear the plumed hat demanding a toll for passage into the city. Cillian knew that he had coin enough to pay for both his and Sylvaine's passage, but as he looked across to find her in the crowd again, he saw that she was already watching him, and he knew that it was not going to be so simple. If he had learnt one thing from his time with the woman, it's that it never was. She raised an inquisitive eyebrow towards him as he met her gaze, but for now he didn't speak. To talk too loudly could risk the pair playing their cards too openly, but to talk too softly would see the words snatched away by the wailing wind. Cillian trusted that Sylvaine valued her own life enough not to try anything too foolish, but even so, as she pushed through the crowd Cillian made sure to follow after her. As she approached the plumed hat, Cillian made it to the front of the crowd, subconsciously flexing his shoulders as he felt the reassuring weight of his spear and shield slung across his back. He wasn't entirely surprised to see his companion launch into a theatrical performance. Even in their relatively brief time in each others company, Cillian had witnessed the silver tongue that Sylvaine possessed, and the sharp mind that rested behind the emerald eyes. He didn't know how much of what she was saying was deception, and how much was genuine, but Cillian did what he could to play his part, nodding his heard towards the guards at Sylvaine's mention of her "minstrel", and carefully watching to see what the reaction to his companion's theatrics would be.</s> <\|message\|>Kyiriniae'aea Kyiriniae'aea crouched down beside the child and wove her fingers beguiling before its eyes, stilling its cries as she wove a magical somnolence to quiet the baby. She had no particularly maternal instincts but if it started caterwauling at the right time it might disrupt her plan. With silence assured, she stood up and straightened her dress, preparing herself for the next step. There was some danger involved but she wasn't going to establish herself in this forest by timidity. She closed her eyes and wove a second spell. Blink The tall elf appeared in the flames as the Gundarogs chanted. Stepping quickly from the fire before it could catch. None the less a few of the fibres and the tips of her hair smoked and sizzled though she kept any cry from her lips so as not to spoil the illusion. The the Gundarogs it appeared as though she had been birthed from the flames in response to their chanting. Moving far enough from the fire to be safe she spread her arms akimbo to appear as impressive as she could. "Why have you ventured out under the accursed sun?" she demanded in tone of oratorical command. The back-lighting from the fire made her appear shadowed and featureless. "Why have you left the tunnels and forsaken the search for my brethren?" she demanded.</s>	<\|message\|>Emilio Virtoli Diplomacy = 8 + 3 = 11 The Dre Costan showed no signs of tiring from the boy's repetitive questions. All the more he seemed just as excited and lively. "Ah, but where there are towns there are people. Where there are people, my services shall always be required. Setting disputes, evaluating valuables, and moving about the general necessities of the world." Emilio spoke with elegance outwardly to the child, as if he had prepared this spiel his entire life. "Oh, and of course my friend here." He'd gesture with flair to Wēlanandaz. "Monsters mean armor and weapons are in great demand yes? Well what finer is there than expert Dwarvern make?" The question was exclaimed proudly and entirely rhetorical, though he'd move on before the child could comment on it. "I am certain one way or another it shall be an exciting and prosperous venture. You yourself found this to be your own service after all. I am certain you have heard much and more of the Blackwood. It would make me most grateful if you could tell us some more of what to expect. Anything you've heard of the locals, the closest towns or villages. Any and all is appreciated." An eye would look from the man to the shore as they made a turn towards it. A seemingly entire lackluster and lone spot. "Ah, and directions. Truly you would wish for us to make it safely yes? After we have made our fortunes here we would remember those that labored along the way." Emilio would add on with a cheery smile and tone. All but antithetical to the rowing man's silence. "Of course I'd hope the same to be true of myself. Should I find any weary souls who wish to turn their way back for an honest fee, I would all the more direct them to the one who had the same guided safely our own passage. I'd need a name of course for such a man and I would not ask without bestowing my own. Emilio Virtoli, merchant, as you already well know." A seated half bow was added on, not wishing to rock the boat overly much as they were soon to be pulling onto land.</s>
<\|description\|>Torsten Meier Norgardian \| 31 \| Male Appearance Torsten is a lean, wiry man who stands just under six feet at 5' 11 ¾" (182 cm). The Norgardian raider's features have always been somewhat dark or sullen. He is the type of person to stay to himself, seemingly lost in thought. Torsten is attracted to women who feel the need to fix a man because the lonesome huntsman appears to be in need of repair. He doesn't, but she would feel the need to fix him. He is not unattractive. His armor is made up of bits of leather or studded leather with a lamellar brigandine formed of small steel plates covered in leather. His armor is often covered by furs and a grey cloak. Torsten does not look like an imposing figure, but his agility and quickness on his feet make him a deadly match one on one. Personality Torsten was often considered a recluse by those who knew him. His seemingly quiet demeanor, when provoked leads towards outbursts of anger. Although, he is not the type to strike with a powerful fist, he can turn a fight to his advantage quickly and bring a larger man down with rapid successive blows to vital body parts. For the most part he is cool and collected. Insulting his Northern heritage or betraying his trust will get the hackles up for him. Then you know you are in trouble. Background Sailor/Raider Huntsman/Tracker Comes from a long line of hunters/raiders. History Torsten was raised near the coast living off the bounty of the sea. While most men in the village trawled the sea in search of their catch, his father along with a small group of others, hunted the forests for stags and other game to eat. From an early age, Torsten learned to track animals as well as men. His father taught him to read signs on the ground as well as snif the air and listen for clues as what was going on around him; where his prey was waiting, feeding, ready to die. As a young man, Torsten was compelled to leave the village on a quest of manhood. It was the right, nay obligation of every male to suffer trials towards becoming a man. Armed only with a small blade, a dagger, Torsten was cast from the village until he completed his trials. Only he would know when the trials were complete and then he could return to his home. He went into the mountains during the first snow of the season. An old hunting cabin, badly in need of repair atop a wind swept hill. He made this hovel his home during his trials. The pangs of hunger took him first, forcing him to hunt. He fashioned a bow out of hickory and hemp. He shaped the wood with his dagger, making notches at both ends for the string, manufactured out of dried hemp. It was strong and could withstand the pull of the bow. Satisfied with the pull of his bow, he manufactured arrows out of the same hickory with eagle feathers to guide them. He crafted at least a few dozen to use on his prey. The first night in the woods, he did not eat. He spent that day preparing his home and his tools. He was hungry. The sensation gnawed on him. He would eat the next day…or be eaten. The forest now covered in snow, he tracked a heavy stag. He could tell its weight, by the depths of the footprints. He knew he was close, but was he alone? A howling wolf answered his question. There were definitely other predators in forest. The pack moved in close. They did not want this intruder to steal their meal. They circled him baring their teeth, snarling and growling. A few yaps and barks. Torsten kept his eyes on the pack--five wolves, four of whom were grey. With an arrow notched, he loosed one at the largest; possibly the alpha who whined loudly with a yalp and dropped back a few yards. The one to his left charged Torsten who had no time to notch another arrow. He dropped the bow, took a few steps back, steeling himself for the beast to leap. The beast hurled himself forward off his strong haunches, teeth bared ready to kill. The dog impaled himself on Torsten's unsheathed knife. He used his left hand to keep the dog from biting his face. A third and fourth wolf charged at him as he backed up to a standing position. He swung his small blade at the two wolves who hesitated, rather than attack. They took a second thought running off into the trees along with the fifth, an albino with red eyes, who chose only to stand and watch the events unfold. It was as though she was gathering intelligence on a potential enemy. She obviously felt respect was warranted with this hunter. By the springtime, Torsten returned to his village a man, wearing pelts he took from beasts. His first beard covered his chin and face, eventually to be shaven off. His trials were successfully completed, and he was welcomed back into the village. The villagers feasted his accomplishment and then returned to their work after a week of revelry. Eventually, Torsten Meier chose it was best for him to leave the small fishing village. His personal quest was seeking wealth and adventure ever since. That was five years ago. Motivation To continue his quest for adventure and wealth. His private greed and quest for something he felt missing in his soul drove him. If the task is worth it, he will accept an employment offer. Capabilities Attributes Combat [1/1] * One Handed Sword: 0 * One Handed Cleaving: 1 * Dual Wielding: 0 * Archery: 1 * Unarmed: 1 Intelligence [1/1] * Bestiary: 2 * Legendary: 1 Charisma [1/1] * * * Health [1/1] * Strength: 1 * Stamina: 1 * Cold Resistance: 0 Faculties [1/1] * Perception: 1 * Tracking: 1 * Willpower: 0 * Woodcraft: 1 Agility [1/1] * Run: 1 * Balance: 1 * Outdoor Climbing: 0 * Ride: 0 Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * Lammellar Brigandine Armor * High soft leather boots * Studded leather vambraces * Leather greaves and paulders * Furs & grey cloak * handcrafted bow and a quiver of arrows * hand axe * shortsword * knife/dagger * pack containing some food and other essentials. * pouch containing his coins, mentioned below. Money 3 Royals (Gold) 5 Lordlings (Silver) 79 Commons (Copper) Languages Northern & Grim Northern</s> <\|message\|>Dyla Roots Dyla frowned. The Blackwood had not been as fun as in her daydreams. She didn't think it would be easy, but her imaginings had always been about fighting monsters, or unearthing lost treasure. Instead, the big problem of the Blackwood had been finding stuff to eat. She missed pumpkin pie. She was hoping the inn would be a welcome change, and now the first lady they met was telling them there was no room! But an inn was the place where she could find leads on treasure. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more Dyla was certain her entire adventure depended on getting into that inn. Or maybe she just didn't want to sleep in a barn. Charm: 6 (3+3) "Are you sure there's no room in the inn?" Dyla looked up at the pretty woman with the broom. "I don't take up much space, you know." Remembering Arden, and feeling a bit foolish, she added: "My bigger friend might, but he won't be any trouble. He's gentle. And," smirking now, "I'd bet he'd buy a lot of the ale!" She wasn't even sure how true that was, but if she was lying, isn't it for a good cause?</s> <\|message\|>Name The dim lighting gave the room a feel of 'winding down' to some, but Po seemed alert, if not relaxed. He was evidently very consumed by the book he read. That was, until Mari settled down at his table. He blinked and looked up when she smiled. He gave a bright smile back to showcase he wasn't annoyed at her wanting to speak to him. He put a bookmark in the leather bound tome and set it aside before regarding her. "Hey, it's no problem. We're going to be traveling together so it's probably good we talk a bit." he replied. He crossed his toned arms on the table, leaning on them. In the lighting, the caramel of his skin seemed an even deeper hue. The young man looked at the table, deep in thought as he considered her question. "A sister of Rán?" He echoed to himself, and then his dark eyes turned to meet hers. "You're one of them? Er, um looking to be?" He scratched the back of his head, ruffling his thick head of black hair. "I've never heard of a temple moving..." Po knew the ins and outs of most of this quadrant of the Blackwood, though that was a lot to retain in his mind, particularly considering how late it was. It took him a moment to next speak until his eyes brightened. "Wait, yes. Not a moving temple, but I do remember there being a rumor of a water temple with some sort of religious significance fairly close, actually. It's uh-" He turned around, opening up his knapsack. After ruffling around it a moment, he pulled out a sheet of paper and a quill. He dipped it in some ink, eyes glancing her way. "Sorry," He chuckled breathlessly. "I'm not very good at explaining things after I've had a few. It's when I've had more than a few that I start rambling. Here..." For a commoner, he had very smooth strokes of the hand, making what she would find out was a map in a lavish style of sweeping black ink. Po took only a brief minute with his map, and though it was basic it was certainly better than nothing. On second glance, it attributed a lot of various obstacles and pathways before her. He moved his chair closer to hers, setting down and sliding the map between. "Ok so...we're here...and we'll be moving north..." His finger traced over a path that broke through what was a heavily wooded area, passed a bog and astride a few smaller mountains to what looked to be riverlands. "The last I heard of any water temple, it was actually pretty close to where I think we're going. Orek knows the path far better than me, but he probably can't help with your temple. I'm pretty sure it's supposed to be northeast of where the fabled rings are." He turned and looked at her to gauge if she found his advice helpful. "I also hear the doors to the place are locked by some spell, but who knows what's really going on there? Maybe you'll find something to help you where we're headed?"</s> <\|message\|>Name The tavern halted. The low music and the clinking of glass were the only sounds that graced the room after Cillian had spoken. It seemed his story and way with words left the room in rapt-fascination, and to anyone it would have been comical to look at the two patrons that he was speaking to. Calvin had wide eyes, looking to and fro between Cillian and Saskia to see what his companion thought. For her part, Saskia looked equal parts impressed, dumbfounded, and a little weirded out. "Um..." She began. "No, not me." Calvin said, waving his hands and shaking his head. "I'm just a city boy." "I've been there." Saskia nodded, clearing her throat. "Not for very long, but I've had to travel through there once with a caravan. Ran into a few beasts that I'd rather not run into again. Were you wanting to know what lies west of here? I could regaile you myself but..." She raised an eyebrow, a hand with tantilizing fingers curling toward's Cillian. "my memory is a little fuzzy...maybe a silver Lordling could listen my lips?" "Two silver lordlings?" Calvin piped in with a wink. Saskia elbowed him gently, but not too gently. She glared at him. "I have the information, I'm the one getting a lordling. He's a smart man, yes?" Her last sentence had her looking back at him, lips curved into a smile. "Information is my trade. I may lie, but never when I do business." Charm roll from Saskia: 4+2=6. You can contest and roll willpower if you so choose. Or you can trust her.</s>	<\|message\|>Torsten Meier The sunlight cut through the forest like a razor sharp sword pierces one's torso. The pain in Torsten's side had improved. It wasn't as bad as he anticipated, but he'd been injured before and the pain was tolerable. He knew he was lucky to be alive and knew he needed to keep moving. He figured he would be healed in a day or two; hopefully. Breakfast was decent. Oz caught some rabbit and the three sucked on the juicy bits. Torsten inhaled his portion as he was quite famished. Lord knows he needed the protein in the meat. After sterilizing the campsite as best they could, they ventured further to the south in order to continue their trek into the unknown. Conversation was light, about nothing in particular. They focused more on the sights and sounds of the forest around them. Their hunter's ears were tuned in and didn't want to be surprised. Torsten took the trail slot in the column as Oz, the largest took center. He allows the lighter Ulf Gunnerson or Wolf to take the point. Wolf was an agile hunter, quick on his feet. He would be able to evade an attack faster than the others. Torsten removed his bow, notched an arrow and prepared for whatever might present itself upon the trail ahead. It didn't take long for a situation to appear. A scream of sorts erupted in their ears. All three men prepared for a battle, not knowing what was coming. It just didn't sound like the orcs they dealt with the day prior. Oz removed the 5' 6" two-handed sword from its scabbard and held it at the ready on his right side. He was prepared to bring pain upon any foe who threatened him. Wolf removed his shield from his back, securing it to his left arm and a small sword in his right. He held the left side of the trail. Between the two and three steps to the rear was Torsten with his bow up and read to draw. The odd fellow stumbling over the undergrowth in front of them was more bulbous than sinewy. All three men breathed a sigh of relief realizing they would not have to kill this one. The man was in a panic paying more attention to the auburn-haired young woman chasing him. Her hair was cut short, more like a man, than a woman, Oz thought. Torsten found her mildly attractive and Wolf wondered how quickly he could dispatch both to the underworld. "Stop!" Torsten yelled at the pair, who seemingly halted all movement, freezing in their steps looking up at the trio of northerners who barred their path. "What are you doing here?!"</s>
<\|description\|>Torsten Meier Norgardian \| 31 \| Male Appearance Torsten is a lean, wiry man who stands just under six feet at 5' 11 ¾" (182 cm). The Norgardian raider's features have always been somewhat dark or sullen. He is the type of person to stay to himself, seemingly lost in thought. Torsten is attracted to women who feel the need to fix a man because the lonesome huntsman appears to be in need of repair. He doesn't, but she would feel the need to fix him. He is not unattractive. His armor is made up of bits of leather or studded leather with a lamellar brigandine formed of small steel plates covered in leather. His armor is often covered by furs and a grey cloak. Torsten does not look like an imposing figure, but his agility and quickness on his feet make him a deadly match one on one. Personality Torsten was often considered a recluse by those who knew him. His seemingly quiet demeanor, when provoked leads towards outbursts of anger. Although, he is not the type to strike with a powerful fist, he can turn a fight to his advantage quickly and bring a larger man down with rapid successive blows to vital body parts. For the most part he is cool and collected. Insulting his Northern heritage or betraying his trust will get the hackles up for him. Then you know you are in trouble. Background Sailor/Raider Huntsman/Tracker Comes from a long line of hunters/raiders. History Torsten was raised near the coast living off the bounty of the sea. While most men in the village trawled the sea in search of their catch, his father along with a small group of others, hunted the forests for stags and other game to eat. From an early age, Torsten learned to track animals as well as men. His father taught him to read signs on the ground as well as snif the air and listen for clues as what was going on around him; where his prey was waiting, feeding, ready to die. As a young man, Torsten was compelled to leave the village on a quest of manhood. It was the right, nay obligation of every male to suffer trials towards becoming a man. Armed only with a small blade, a dagger, Torsten was cast from the village until he completed his trials. Only he would know when the trials were complete and then he could return to his home. He went into the mountains during the first snow of the season. An old hunting cabin, badly in need of repair atop a wind swept hill. He made this hovel his home during his trials. The pangs of hunger took him first, forcing him to hunt. He fashioned a bow out of hickory and hemp. He shaped the wood with his dagger, making notches at both ends for the string, manufactured out of dried hemp. It was strong and could withstand the pull of the bow. Satisfied with the pull of his bow, he manufactured arrows out of the same hickory with eagle feathers to guide them. He crafted at least a few dozen to use on his prey. The first night in the woods, he did not eat. He spent that day preparing his home and his tools. He was hungry. The sensation gnawed on him. He would eat the next day…or be eaten. The forest now covered in snow, he tracked a heavy stag. He could tell its weight, by the depths of the footprints. He knew he was close, but was he alone? A howling wolf answered his question. There were definitely other predators in forest. The pack moved in close. They did not want this intruder to steal their meal. They circled him baring their teeth, snarling and growling. A few yaps and barks. Torsten kept his eyes on the pack--five wolves, four of whom were grey. With an arrow notched, he loosed one at the largest; possibly the alpha who whined loudly with a yalp and dropped back a few yards. The one to his left charged Torsten who had no time to notch another arrow. He dropped the bow, took a few steps back, steeling himself for the beast to leap. The beast hurled himself forward off his strong haunches, teeth bared ready to kill. The dog impaled himself on Torsten's unsheathed knife. He used his left hand to keep the dog from biting his face. A third and fourth wolf charged at him as he backed up to a standing position. He swung his small blade at the two wolves who hesitated, rather than attack. They took a second thought running off into the trees along with the fifth, an albino with red eyes, who chose only to stand and watch the events unfold. It was as though she was gathering intelligence on a potential enemy. She obviously felt respect was warranted with this hunter. By the springtime, Torsten returned to his village a man, wearing pelts he took from beasts. His first beard covered his chin and face, eventually to be shaven off. His trials were successfully completed, and he was welcomed back into the village. The villagers feasted his accomplishment and then returned to their work after a week of revelry. Eventually, Torsten Meier chose it was best for him to leave the small fishing village. His personal quest was seeking wealth and adventure ever since. That was five years ago. Motivation To continue his quest for adventure and wealth. His private greed and quest for something he felt missing in his soul drove him. If the task is worth it, he will accept an employment offer. Capabilities Attributes Combat [1/1] * One Handed Sword: 0 * One Handed Cleaving: 1 * Dual Wielding: 0 * Archery: 1 * Unarmed: 1 Intelligence [1/1] * Bestiary: 2 * Legendary: 1 Charisma [1/1] * * * Health [1/1] * Strength: 1 * Stamina: 1 * Cold Resistance: 0 Faculties [1/1] * Perception: 1 * Tracking: 1 * Willpower: 0 * Woodcraft: 1 Agility [1/1] * Run: 1 * Balance: 1 * Outdoor Climbing: 0 * Ride: 0 Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * Lammellar Brigandine Armor * High soft leather boots * Studded leather vambraces * Leather greaves and paulders * Furs & grey cloak * handcrafted bow and a quiver of arrows * hand axe * shortsword * knife/dagger * pack containing some food and other essentials. * pouch containing his coins, mentioned below. Money 3 Royals (Gold) 5 Lordlings (Silver) 79 Commons (Copper) Languages Northern & Grim Northern</s> <\|message\|>Name 2/8, the branch hits the Gundarog The Gundarog had loped in her direction haphazardly like a frightened, unagile ape. A credit to its race, it still would have been hard to spot by human eyes once it left the brief glimpse of sunlight. No wonder these creatures of the underworld had found a safehaven in a forest like the Blackwood. However, the thing was certainly not expecting to find a Dorcha even in the forest of shadows. It nearly tumbled over the ground before catching itself, and once its eyes fell on Aeryn, it quelled at the very sudden new threat before it. That was, until the branch hit its head and knocked it out. Meanwhile, the massive Wolf was sniffing the ground a bit as it chewed on its second meal. It seemed to have gotten a hold of its impulses for food, pawing at the ground as it finished what flesh was in its mouth. Already it had dug through the shoddy armor of the Gundarog it had killed, its entire torso and head now within the beast's gullet. Suddenly, behind the thing, two wolf pups slunk out of the brush. They were clearly very young, even though they were nearly the size of your average guard dog. One bounded into view while the other moved mischievously, eyeing the forest around it for anything curious. What was left of the first Gundarog, they began to nip and pick at, clearly wishing for a different kind of meat but not about to complain when they're filling their bellies. Aeryn had the opportunity to check the Gundarog's pockets and knapsack as it lay there, out cold. If she wished she could kill it, or she could awaken it or take it with her. While she deliberated, she would pick up another sound from her sensitive ears. A voice, obviously male and pleasant to the ear somewhere behind her. Not very close, within a mile at least and drawing closer in a fashion. Clearly walking toward past their location, but would they come close enough to attract the wolves? At the current moment, the mother wolf was too preoccupied with her whining pups, the soft grunts and whistles they made causing her to perk her lupin ears as she licked them. Decisions, decisions...</s> <\|message\|>Name Alyana had a dazzling smile, letting the three men introduce themselves in their fashion and giving them a personal greeting each time. She shook hands with whoever allowed it and patted Oz on the shoulder, clearly enjoying his shyness. From what little she said, she seemed a well traveled woman. She would have had to be, being out in the middle of the Blackwood with naught but a crazed merchant for company. The women straightened her belt, as it was laden with traveling items like a seax and sacks of food and maybe even coin, and she began to walk with the men. "Norgardians? You're far from your homeland." She remarked, leading them southwest. Or was it northeast? No, they came from the north. Even now the Blackwood seemed to swallow up any sense of direction, much like some of the more enchanted forests in Torsten's homeland where village elders warned naughty children to keep in bed at night or something from within would sneak into any norgardian village and snatch them away. In fact, the three warriors might have passed through such forests in the north, and yet this one seemed even dimmer in hope than those beast infested places. "Then again, I suppose Andred is the next region south unless you count the marches Bania claims as its own." She had a peculiar accent that Torsten might need to think on, as it was subtle and not Andredian in its inflection. She smirked once Oz lifted up the merchant, though she seemed impressed with the big man's strength. "Sorry about him." She said earnestly, and then perked up once Torsten asked about her father. Alyana chuckled. "Oh, I don't expect you to have heard of him. He's a merchant, though thankfully not like this one. I just figured you Norgardians introduced yourselves by stating who your father was. Maybe I am stereotyping." Despite the gloom of the forest, the next few miles weren't dangerous to the four travelers and their fat man baggage. They made good time, and before the hour was up the forest began to thin for a short few paces before it disappeared entirely, and they found themselves at the edge of a vast clearing. Not large enough to be called' grasslands,' it was a very, very vast field. At the center of it was something Torsten likely had no seen before. The hollowed stump of a tree, the tree in question being large enough to hold a village of giants, or in this case, a sizeable town of humans. The entrance was a carved archway, and was well lit in the fading sun. If it weren't for the lights and the guardsmen standing before the entrance, it would have seen like an abandoned carcass of an old world wonder. As it was, they saw people walking into the entrance just as they crested the line of trees. "Oakhallow." Alyana said simply. "I hope you boys have some money, or you'll be sleeping under the stars tonight. Unless you find the forest more accommodating."</s>	<\|message\|>Torsten Meier There was something like Alanya that piqued Torsten's interest. She oozed a certain charismatic flair that instantly made her a friend to their trio. He forgot about how or why she was with them. Seeing the lump of flesh on Oz' shoulder did remind him occasionally during their walk. "Yes, we are definitely Norgardians and we are definitely far from home." Torsten felt no problem with allowing Alanya know where their homeland was. "We've traveled extensively on the sea, but occasionally find the opportunity to travel over land. It appears we are in that situation now." Torsten looked at Wolf, "what direction?" Wolf looked up and at the rocks and trees. "South?" the man responded. "We are definitely traveling southwest," Torsten offered. "South is close to Southwest," Wolf defended his response. "You're right, my brother. The trail does arc back to the south on occasion too." Torsten listened to Alanya as they walked along the path. Her accent was one he was familiar with. He had heard it before on one of his voyages, but just couldn't place it. Maybe if he thought about it for a while longer, it would come to him. "Where are you from, Alanya?" Maybe it was her speech patterns, voice inflection, her looks, or chemistry. He found himself slowly being attracted to the woman. He did not understand the feeling. In fact, he pushed himself away in his mind, refusing to admit the feeling to himself. He didn't have time for such frivolity. "Pardon me, my father was a hunter and a tracker like me. We excelled in finding people or game and bringing food from the forest back into the village." Torsten considered what she said. "That custom is true with some villages, but not all," Torsten smiled at her. It took Torsten time to process what he was looking at when they finally cleared the forest. "You know, at firt glance, that looks like the stump of a tree felled years ago, but it can't be. It circles a town. Is that Oakhollow?" Torsten then thought about the name of the town and realized yes! The tree was an Oak and now it is hollow. Oz laughed a hearty laugh, with the fat man bouncing on his shoulder as he laughed. "Oak Hollow!" The big man bellowed out a huge laugh. The party approached the archway in the side of the tree trunk or town. The group was impressed with the etchings, carvings in the wood. "Beautiful," Wolf allowed in a low tone, commenting on the size and design of the town's exterior. "Hopefully, the fee for a room isn't too expensive. We should be able to cover it." Torsten smiled at Alanya. "Thanks for leading us here. It has been quite some time since we have seen civilization." Torsten paused and remembered the fat man. "Oh!? Where do you want this one?"</s>
<\|description\|>Rui Tomoe Age: 17 Equipment: Barioth Armor, Ambertusk Saber Kinbeast: Druk (Fulgur Anjanath, Dragon element) About: A kind lass born and raised in the Silvergale Mountains, Rui always seemed to have a strong intuition when it came to monsters, especially Kinbeasts. Be it a humble Anteka or a mighty Gammoth, she always knew how to read a monster's body language and behavior. Several years ago, while searching the mountains for herbs, Rui was attacked by a Barioth. The monster behaved strangely, and it appeared to be sick and deranged. After a long battle, Rui slew the Barioth... but not before the monster had killed her Kinbeast. Rui immediately returned to her village for help, and was bedridden for weeks afterward. The body of the Barioth was thoroughly examined by researchers from the Guild, who determined that the monster had been affected by a virus of unknown origin. While the body of the Barioth and her Kinbeast were destroyed to prevent potential spread, the Riders Guild compensated Rui for her trouble. However, the bond between Rider and Kinbeast is a strong one, and it was almost a year before Rui found the will to seek out another Kinbeast. By sheer luck, the girl stumbled on an abandoned nest raided by predators, save for a single egg. When the egg finally hatched, she was more than a little surprised at the birth: a relatively rare monster, a Fulgur Anjanath. Though she was hesitant to get attached to this new partner, the little wyvern's bravery and loyalty won Rui over. Afterwards, she began helping to train younger Riders. Several weeks ago, she received a summons from the Guild, and she and Tekis headed south to the capital city of Milasai.</s> <\|message\|>Monster List 1- Central Redan The largest of the isles, Central Redan is primarily forests and grassland. However, there are mountains, tundras, deserts, and even a massive swamp. The largest population of Riders lives here. The two largest settlements are Gynycon (1) in the Northern Steppes, Silverridge (2) in the Silvergale Mountains, Inteca (3 in the Junidan Rain Forest, Milasai (5) in the Southern Plains, Oasys (6) and Azo (7) in the Bara Magna Desert; very few Riders live near the Boglands, though there are stories of bandits living and hiding in the unforgiving swamps. 2- Western Redan A harsh, volcanic island with an active volcano, Western Revan only has a single settlement, known as Geo-Harth (4). Though the western side of the island is quite fertile, most of the residents of Western Redan are miners. 3- Eastern Redan Though the island itself is largely uninhabited by Riders, the floating village of New Tanzia (8) sustains itself through fishing and trading with the other cities. Eastern Redan is primarily composed of woodland and wetland, and is home to a variety of species, including Leviathans. 4- Harsheon Uniquely among the Omna Isles, the currents of Harsheon well up from a nearby trench, bringing an abundance of deceased sea life to the western side of the island, known simply as the Boneyard. Many monsters here are adapted to scavenging for survival, and will attack nearly anything that intrudes on their territory. Situated in the center of the island is Frebo (9), a unique village whose people specialize in searching for old relics and hunting, taming, and training aquatic monsters. 5- Belga Isle A small island in the south, very few Riders make their home on Belga. However, it is home to many Lynians, including Grimalkyne, Felynes and Melynx, and Gajalaka. Though similar in climate to other parts of the Omna Isles, it is home to many dangerous monsters. 6- Elion The easternmost of the isles, Elion is often ravaged by powerful storms. Because of this, few Riders live here, and those that do must be tough to survive both the storms and the monsters that live here. 7- Misty Nest The southernmost of the Omna Isles, the Misty Nest has seldom been explored on account of being home to many rare and powerful monsters, as well as the island perpetually being shrouded in fog. Though unconfirmed, rumors abound that the Nest is home at least part of the year to Elder Dragons. 8- The Northern Isles Largely uninhabited save some small outposts managed by, the Northern Isles are filled with many ruins and artifacts from an ancient civilization. 9- The Ancients' Tower Surrounded by a near-impenetrable storm, very few have ever made it to the Ancients' Tower. Reports state that the massive structure is home to a variety of monsters, including Elder Dragons.</s> <\|message\|>Rui Tomoe --- The City of Milasai This was the first time that Rui had ever been to the capitol. People and every type of Kinbeast made their way through the streets. However, many were giving them a wide berth. It was easy to tell by her armor and gear that Rui wasn't from anywhere near Milasai. And she couldn't fault the Herbivores, like Aptonoth and Kestodon, for being skittish around a monster that was a natural predator. But having undergone the Rite of Channeling enough to change a Kinbeast's element was uncommon. And transferring enough genetic information to change any Kinbeast's element to Dragon was difficult. As a side effect of the process, the Fulgur Anjanath's body had taken on new colors. The normally orange-and-white scales on his body had taken on a crimson hue, and the fur-like feathers across his body had blackened. Though not visible now, his fins and nasal crest would glow with dark red once angered. But Rui didn't mind. She knew that, despite Druk's fierce appearance, he was a sweetheart. Until you threatened Rui, anyway. Then all bets were off. She was here for a reason. In her bag was the summons from the Riders' Guild. It took some asking the locals, but she eventually found her way to the Riders' Guild HQ. Passing through the gate, she could see other Riders coming and going, or even just standing around and chatting. Rui dismounted, and lead Druk to the stables. After speaking with a stablehand and giving him about 200 zenny to take care of Druk, she made her way inside. The Guildhall was packed with humans and Palicos, as well as the odd Wyverian, Troverian, and Grimalkyne. At the reception counter, she was greeted by a young woman who smiled cheerfully. "Welcome to the Milasai Rider's Guild," she said. "How can I help you?" Rui dug into her bag and presented the letter. "Oh, so you were summoned by the Guildmaster. Right this way." She put up a sign on the desk that read, "Temporarily closed. We appreciate your patience." The young woman lead Rui up a flight of stairs. "So, Miss Tomoe, you've come a long way." "Please, call me Rui," she insisted. "Ah. My name's Artemia. It's nice to meet you." She gave another smile. The sounds of the main hall faded away until they came to a large, intricate door. Artemia banged her fist against the thick wood, and the deep, booming sounds caught Rui off guard. Clearly she was a lot stronger than she looked. Without waiting for a response, Artemia opened the door and ushered Rui inside. It was simple, but Rui could appreciate it. But all of the books! Rui had never seen so many in one place. "You're supposed to wait for someone to answer the door, Artemia." Rui looked up the balcony to see a Wyverian woman looking down at them, an open book in hand. "Never know if you're absorbed in your research," Artemia chuckled. "Anyways, this is Miss Rui Tomoe." "Thank you. We're waiting on two more for the time being." The woman closed her book and made her way to the ground floor.</s> <\|message\|>Katya Milyan As far as the capital city went, it certainly made Katya miss the open fields and valleys around her home village. There were too many people, not enough space, and the bustle and noise was something she wasn't quite pleased to be around. How one could want to live in a place like this was beyond her. City life would never be for her, though. It was a given from the moment she first started going out into the wilds with her father in search of herbs for his medicines. There was nothing more appealing than being out in the wilds, testing her survival skills against the wilderness - especially not after raising Vasha. The way some of the citizens and, certainly the monsters, in the city shifted away when the black furred beauty - at least, until she'd undergone the Rite of Channeling to imbue Vasha with the element of Thunder and marking the black fur with streaks of near white gold - that was her nargacuga. She was kinda proud he stirred unsettling reactions out of the others. Probably not the best mindset for a rider but, then - she didn't just learn about raising and training monsties. She wore her armor and weapons proudly, unashamed of the tale it told others. But making the content city-dwellers uneasy wasn't the reason she was here. She had a summons burning a hole in her satchel and she was determined to get it over with and back out to the wilds before Vasha got as restless in the city as she felt. It only took a bit of negotiating their way through the city before she finally spotted the guild off in the distance. Quite a few other riders and beasts, most oblivious to yet another powerful monstie showing up in their midst, stood or moved around the courtyard. She'd considered having Vasha just come inside with her, but surely that was frowned on. It wasn't like anyone back in her village liked such a large monstie following her into buildings there either. So, for an outrageous 200 zenny, she got him stabled and headed inside. Soon enough, Katya was shown to a large ornate set of doors before a few loud knocks proceeded them being opened and her gestured to join the others in. After a second to look around and inwardly cringe at the amount of books surrounding her, the rider's gaze locked on the two others in the room. "Right, so I'm Katya Milyan - got a summons - " which she produced from her satchel - "and was directed to this room. Are we waiting for more or can we get the meeting on and over with?" She rolled her shoulder while looking around the room again. "Place is too cramped."</s>	<\|message\|>Rui Tomoe Rui gave the newcomer a quick inspection. Armor was a good indicator of a Rider's level of skill, and this Katya apparently had enough skill to go to-toe-claw with an Ebony Odogaron. Her words and tone made her come off as rough around the edges. The Guildmaster gave a slight frown at Katya's words. "I prefer 'cozy'," she said flatly. "And yes, we are waiting on--" The door opened again, and another Wyverian woman came in. Adorned in light armor and a wide-brimmed hat, all colored a rich shade of red, she looked quite professional... until she spoke, anyway. "How's my favorite sister?" she asked, a wide grin crossing her face. "I'm your only sister," the Guildmaster replied. Her tone had a hint of irritation to it. Artemia playfully pouted. "What, no love for me, Hana?" Hana chuckled, ruffling Artemia's hair. "You have to wait your turn." The Guildmaster gave a sigh, as if she'd done this a million times before. "At least try to act like we're here for something serious, Hana." She turned her attention to the two Riders. "Now that we're all here, we can start. "Welcome to Milasai, Riders. My name is Lieren, the Guildmaster of Central Redan, as well as the head of the Omna Isles Council. I apologize for not being able to explain why you were summoned in the letter, but for the time being, we're being cautious."</s>
<\|description\|>Katya Milyan Age: 18 Equipment: Odogaron (ebony) Armor and Blood-Drinker Chainblade Current Kinbeast: Vasha (Nargacuga, Thunder Element) About: Sometimes impulsive and brash, Katya's mouth often gets her in more trouble than her fiery temper. She takes after her mother in much those same ways. Her mother was a Hunter, part of the Research Commission that crashed onto Omna Island. As she came to terms with the way the people on Omna lived in harmony with the wyvern that lived there, she tried to learn the ways of the riders - to hatch a companion and understand it. But that just wasn't her way, until she fell for a herbalist that had a Tigrex named Lorel that helped protect him when he'd venture outside the village for supplies. Katya never really learned patience enough to hatch eggs of her own young. It wasn't something she learned the patience to do for a while. Instead, she inherited her mother's gear and was taught a lot of hunting skills like tracking, trapping, and even combat reflexes to make her skilled enough to avoid attacks from wyvern. She stood a stark contrast to others her age from the village in Ocean's Meadow - a grassland with a view of the southern coast - but didn't let herself get deterred because she wasn't a rider. She often accompanied her father on his trips to get herbs and whatnot for his shop, working with Lorel to help keep her father safe. It was this level of training that helped her learn to quell the fire within, and to come to an almost harmony with the wyvern partners they could raise. When she was fifteen, Lorel and she helped stave off an attack by a Nargacuga. When the beast retreated, she followed it back to it's nest. Rather than kill the injured beast, she stole one of its eggs and finally understood the importance of patience; with her father's guidance, when the egg hatched, she had a Nargacuga of her own. In getting a monstie of her own, and raising it to be as fierce as she was, she and it took commission with the local Rider's guild to help keep an eye on the surrounding fields and forests. It lead to them finding strange happenings, and even stranger - monsters in the grasslands and forests that didn't belong there, and monsters she's seen before acting strangely. After narrowly avoiding an attack from one such monster and reporting back, she received a summons of her own and headed north to the capital city of Milasai.</s> <\|message\|>Monster List 1- Central Redan The largest of the isles, Central Redan is primarily forests and grassland. However, there are mountains, tundras, deserts, and even a massive swamp. The largest population of Riders lives here. The two largest settlements are Gynycon (1) in the Northern Steppes, Silverridge (2) in the Silvergale Mountains, Inteca (3 in the Junidan Rain Forest, Milasai (5) in the Southern Plains, Oasys (6) and Azo (7) in the Bara Magna Desert; very few Riders live near the Boglands, though there are stories of bandits living and hiding in the unforgiving swamps. 2- Western Redan A harsh, volcanic island with an active volcano, Western Revan only has a single settlement, known as Geo-Harth (4). Though the western side of the island is quite fertile, most of the residents of Western Redan are miners. 3- Eastern Redan Though the island itself is largely uninhabited by Riders, the floating village of New Tanzia (8) sustains itself through fishing and trading with the other cities. Eastern Redan is primarily composed of woodland and wetland, and is home to a variety of species, including Leviathans. 4- Harsheon Uniquely among the Omna Isles, the currents of Harsheon well up from a nearby trench, bringing an abundance of deceased sea life to the western side of the island, known simply as the Boneyard. Many monsters here are adapted to scavenging for survival, and will attack nearly anything that intrudes on their territory. Situated in the center of the island is Frebo (9), a unique village whose people specialize in searching for old relics and hunting, taming, and training aquatic monsters. 5- Belga Isle A small island in the south, very few Riders make their home on Belga. However, it is home to many Lynians, including Grimalkyne, Felynes and Melynx, and Gajalaka. Though similar in climate to other parts of the Omna Isles, it is home to many dangerous monsters. 6- Elion The easternmost of the isles, Elion is often ravaged by powerful storms. Because of this, few Riders live here, and those that do must be tough to survive both the storms and the monsters that live here. 7- Misty Nest The southernmost of the Omna Isles, the Misty Nest has seldom been explored on account of being home to many rare and powerful monsters, as well as the island perpetually being shrouded in fog. Though unconfirmed, rumors abound that the Nest is home at least part of the year to Elder Dragons. 8- The Northern Isles Largely uninhabited save some small outposts managed by, the Northern Isles are filled with many ruins and artifacts from an ancient civilization. 9- The Ancients' Tower Surrounded by a near-impenetrable storm, very few have ever made it to the Ancients' Tower. Reports state that the massive structure is home to a variety of monsters, including Elder Dragons.</s> <\|message\|>Rui Tomoe --- The City of Milasai This was the first time that Rui had ever been to the capitol. People and every type of Kinbeast made their way through the streets. However, many were giving them a wide berth. It was easy to tell by her armor and gear that Rui wasn't from anywhere near Milasai. And she couldn't fault the Herbivores, like Aptonoth and Kestodon, for being skittish around a monster that was a natural predator. But having undergone the Rite of Channeling enough to change a Kinbeast's element was uncommon. And transferring enough genetic information to change any Kinbeast's element to Dragon was difficult. As a side effect of the process, the Fulgur Anjanath's body had taken on new colors. The normally orange-and-white scales on his body had taken on a crimson hue, and the fur-like feathers across his body had blackened. Though not visible now, his fins and nasal crest would glow with dark red once angered. But Rui didn't mind. She knew that, despite Druk's fierce appearance, he was a sweetheart. Until you threatened Rui, anyway. Then all bets were off. She was here for a reason. In her bag was the summons from the Riders' Guild. It took some asking the locals, but she eventually found her way to the Riders' Guild HQ. Passing through the gate, she could see other Riders coming and going, or even just standing around and chatting. Rui dismounted, and lead Druk to the stables. After speaking with a stablehand and giving him about 200 zenny to take care of Druk, she made her way inside. The Guildhall was packed with humans and Palicos, as well as the odd Wyverian, Troverian, and Grimalkyne. At the reception counter, she was greeted by a young woman who smiled cheerfully. "Welcome to the Milasai Rider's Guild," she said. "How can I help you?" Rui dug into her bag and presented the letter. "Oh, so you were summoned by the Guildmaster. Right this way." She put up a sign on the desk that read, "Temporarily closed. We appreciate your patience." The young woman lead Rui up a flight of stairs. "So, Miss Tomoe, you've come a long way." "Please, call me Rui," she insisted. "Ah. My name's Artemia. It's nice to meet you." She gave another smile. The sounds of the main hall faded away until they came to a large, intricate door. Artemia banged her fist against the thick wood, and the deep, booming sounds caught Rui off guard. Clearly she was a lot stronger than she looked. Without waiting for a response, Artemia opened the door and ushered Rui inside. It was simple, but Rui could appreciate it. But all of the books! Rui had never seen so many in one place. "You're supposed to wait for someone to answer the door, Artemia." Rui looked up the balcony to see a Wyverian woman looking down at them, an open book in hand. "Never know if you're absorbed in your research," Artemia chuckled. "Anyways, this is Miss Rui Tomoe." "Thank you. We're waiting on two more for the time being." The woman closed her book and made her way to the ground floor.</s> <\|message\|>Katya Milyan As far as the capital city went, it certainly made Katya miss the open fields and valleys around her home village. There were too many people, not enough space, and the bustle and noise was something she wasn't quite pleased to be around. How one could want to live in a place like this was beyond her. City life would never be for her, though. It was a given from the moment she first started going out into the wilds with her father in search of herbs for his medicines. There was nothing more appealing than being out in the wilds, testing her survival skills against the wilderness - especially not after raising Vasha. The way some of the citizens and, certainly the monsters, in the city shifted away when the black furred beauty - at least, until she'd undergone the Rite of Channeling to imbue Vasha with the element of Thunder and marking the black fur with streaks of near white gold - that was her nargacuga. She was kinda proud he stirred unsettling reactions out of the others. Probably not the best mindset for a rider but, then - she didn't just learn about raising and training monsties. She wore her armor and weapons proudly, unashamed of the tale it told others. But making the content city-dwellers uneasy wasn't the reason she was here. She had a summons burning a hole in her satchel and she was determined to get it over with and back out to the wilds before Vasha got as restless in the city as she felt. It only took a bit of negotiating their way through the city before she finally spotted the guild off in the distance. Quite a few other riders and beasts, most oblivious to yet another powerful monstie showing up in their midst, stood or moved around the courtyard. She'd considered having Vasha just come inside with her, but surely that was frowned on. It wasn't like anyone back in her village liked such a large monstie following her into buildings there either. So, for an outrageous 200 zenny, she got him stabled and headed inside. Soon enough, Katya was shown to a large ornate set of doors before a few loud knocks proceeded them being opened and her gestured to join the others in. After a second to look around and inwardly cringe at the amount of books surrounding her, the rider's gaze locked on the two others in the room. "Right, so I'm Katya Milyan - got a summons - " which she produced from her satchel - "and was directed to this room. Are we waiting for more or can we get the meeting on and over with?" She rolled her shoulder while looking around the room again. "Place is too cramped."</s> <\|message\|>Rui Tomoe Rui gave the newcomer a quick inspection. Armor was a good indicator of a Rider's level of skill, and this Katya apparently had enough skill to go to-toe-claw with an Ebony Odogaron. Her words and tone made her come off as rough around the edges. The Guildmaster gave a slight frown at Katya's words. "I prefer 'cozy'," she said flatly. "And yes, we are waiting on--" The door opened again, and another Wyverian woman came in. Adorned in light armor and a wide-brimmed hat, all colored a rich shade of red, she looked quite professional... until she spoke, anyway. "How's my favorite sister?" she asked, a wide grin crossing her face. "I'm your only sister," the Guildmaster replied. Her tone had a hint of irritation to it. Artemia playfully pouted. "What, no love for me, Hana?" Hana chuckled, ruffling Artemia's hair. "You have to wait your turn." The Guildmaster gave a sigh, as if she'd done this a million times before. "At least try to act like we're here for something serious, Hana." She turned her attention to the two Riders. "Now that we're all here, we can start. "Welcome to Milasai, Riders. My name is Lieren, the Guildmaster of Central Redan, as well as the head of the Omna Isles Council. I apologize for not being able to explain why you were summoned in the letter, but for the time being, we're being cautious."</s>	<\|message\|>Katya Milyan Cozy? Bah! Cramped was perfectly apt. Besides, who the hell wanted this many books? Do nothing readers, clearly. Cozy was a lean-to with a campfire burning just outside it. Cozy was a place that could be seen to be bigger than what you could move in because of the items strewn about. This...this was claustrophobia inducing. But the party grew and Katya kept the further belittlement of the space to herself. Her attention turned from the Guildmaster she supposed she should be more polite to, to the other woman standing in the hall, then the new Wyverian woman that entered. She certainly didn't hold herself like some stuffy administrator type. If she was part of what drove them together, and if Katya had to put up with yet another weight to carry in among the weird happenings of the land right now, at least she seemed capable. "Cautious of what?" Katya perked a brow, crossing her arms and shifting her weight to one foot. "Look, I get it, there's formalities, but those are for times when there isn't weird shit happening around us, yeah? So maybe we can all just cut to the chase?"</s>
<\|description\|>Lucas Hanson Age: 40 Gender: Male Species: Human Occupation: Bar owner Personality: A bit rough around the edges given his background. Lucas doesn't take crap from anyone and will happily knock you out for stepping out of line. With that said, he's tough, but fair. Given his progression, Lucas is quite comfortable interacting with the general crowd, though he has absolutely 0 patience for nonsense. Lucas' mind isn't easily changed, and that's led to failed relationships in the past. But does he care? No, not really. Appearance: Approximately 6'2 with a strong build. His salt and pepper beard game is strong, every once in a while turning heads whenever he's out and about. Lucas has full sleeves with tattoos that are very symbolic to him, and he's happy to tell the stories if anyone is curious enough to inquire. Lucas' typical, everyday fashion? A t-shirt and jeans. History: Born and raised into trouble, Lucas practically never caught a break. His parents lived in New York City at the time, raising him in Staten Island. Throughout his time there, he's been robbed, beat, you name it. Lucas had to grow up real quick in order to survive, something he figured out from experience as well as from the many sit-downs he had had with his parents. The incident that broke the family was the death of Lucas' little sister, Lily. It happened when she was only 7 and Lucas was 13. They were walking down the road one moment and the next, gunfire broke through the air. Unfortunately, Lily caught 2 bullets, which was later discovered were not meant for her but she was a casualty nonetheless. From that point on, Lucas was never the same. His behavior took a turn for the worse, leaving his own parents terrified of him at some point. The kid was out of control, and no matter how many times he was thrown in jail, Lucas simply did not care. But slowly, things improved a little bit. Lucas realized he couldn't continue heading down that same path. There's that, and the fact that he had to become a softy for his first girlfriend who didn't tolerate any BS from him. While the guy was not academically inclined, he had some wits about him and enjoyed doing manual labor as opposed to sitting in a college classroom. How did Lucas end up in Vinehurst? Well, his elderly grandfather became sick and Lucas decided to move to town to be with him. He's lived there for 3 years now and is not in a hurry to go back to the city.</s> <\|message\|>Anthony Beck 32 / Male / Alpha Location: The village Tags: Open The late September sun broke through the thick canopy of trees and shined down onto the peaceful little settlement. It was quiet today. It was still warm enough in the season that some of the pack may be at the lake for a swim. Or maybe they were in town. Jude didn't keep that close an eye on them. They were all grown. Surely he could let them have free reign without worrying about them like a helicopter parent. He, meanwhile, was hard at work. One of the cabins on the property had been damaged in a late season storm, and he was in charge of putting it back together. His bandsaw buzzed as he sawed lumber down to size. His hammering had scared off most of the birds, so the racket made up a majority of the sounds to be heard. He'd had to haul a tree off the cabin's roof, then used it to make the new wood to replaced the old. His wolf form came in handy for moving fallen trees, seeing as they didn't own any oxen. He was the next best thing. With sweat pouring down his face, Jude sat on a nearby log to guzzle some water, then look over his work. The outside walls were looking good. They just needed some weather treatment and some stain, and they'd be done. The roof came next. Maybe he'd work on that tomorrow. After all, his schedule was pretty clear. He didn't have a job in town, as keeping the pack together and their village in shape was a full time job of it's own. And surely nothing would happen between now and then that would delay his progress. 31 / Male / Hunter Location: In town Tags: Open A red corvette blew down the highway towards town. The souped up engine purred as it's occupant paid as little attention to the road as possible. He was busy looking at his phone, dialing a familiar number: his assistant for this hunt. The phone began to ring, and he put it to his ear. It rang, and rang, and rang...Finally, it went to voicemail. "Quit jerking off and get your ass over here. I lost you twenty minutes ago, where the hell are you?!" His voice sounded like he'd gargled with gravel. A scar across his throat that looked suspiciously like claw marks might have had something to do with that. Anthony was nothing if not a survivor. Against all odds, he'd beat out werewolves and vampires alike, and slammed the door in death's face several times. He was like a roach infestation: nasty, and particularly hard to get rid of. He was speeding towards his newest target: a cute little town that, according to his intel, had a little werewolf problem. He wasn't going to fix the problem. In fact, what he had in mind would probably just make it worse. Anthony only wanted the strongest, toughest wolves for his boss. He would round them up, sell them off, and leave the rest of the pack to seethe. He couldn't care less what happened to the leftovers. They could die. They could live. They could try to hunt him down and fail. Anthony slowed down as he came into the narrow streets of Vinehurst. This place was certainly quaint; a real 'raise the kids' type place. He couldn't wait to see it burn. He pulled into the parking lot of an inn and got out. Anthony glared down the road, where his little helper was still a no show. He's placed them in charge of handling the "less fun" vehicle: the truck and the trailer with most of their equipment in it. He slammed the car door and waltzed inside. The woman at the front desk was young and pretty. Anthony could tell from a mile away that she'd be real easy to get inside of, mentally, and maybe even physically if he felt like it. She looked up and smiled a classic customer service smile when she saw him. Anthony turned on the charm. "Hey. I just got into town, and I'd like to book a couple rooms. Could I get two on the same floor?" His rough voice was surprisingly sweet when he tried. The woman rung him up with a happy "Of course!" and gave him his total. Anthony pulled out a thick wad of cash, filed through it, and laid down fifty extra. "Keep the change," He said with a smug smile as he took the key cards. Anthony turned and went back outside to unload his luggage, while the desk clerk leaned over the desk a bit to get a better view.</s> <\|message\|>Olivia Scott Olivia Scott27 \| Female \| Beta Location: Downtown Tags: Open The little bell attached to the doorframe went off a split second before Olivia stepped outside. Tucked under one arm, she had with her yet another book; a sci fi by Garth Nix. Olivia was happy with her purchase, smiling just the slightest at the thought of tucking away in a quiet little corner to read her new novel. The bookstore was her happy place, and she visited frequently. Not because the clerk treated her like family after years of serving her, or because she received special discounts not necessarily afforded to other customers, but she simply loved to read and would sometimes even trade the books that were collecting dust on a shelf. As she made her way down the sidewalk, Olivia was slightly distracted by her phone. She wasn't mindlessly scrolling through photos or videos, but she was reading a message from a friend that had moved away not just from the town, but out of the country altogether. Apparently things were going well for her despite the fact that she hadn't been gone that long. The message had taken Olivia by surprise as she hadn't heard from the girl in an extremely long time. But apparently her friend had found her e-mail address and decided to write to her after all these years. She was nearly at the end of the message when she collided with someone, causing her to drop her book in the process. "Oh! Sorry!" She made sure the older gentleman was okay. He must have had quite the grip on his cane. Thankfully, he remained steady on his feet. "I'm so sorry, I should have been paying attention to where I was going." "It's quite all right young lady, we all get distracted," he smiled, and she returned the same, wishing him well after apologizing for the third time. Olivia then picked up her book and continued on, not bothering to keep reading the message.</s> <\|message\|>Connie Avis 28 / Female / Witch Agent "Normal Business Women" Location: Outside of Vinehurst -> In Town Tags: @Metronome Anthony --- Vinehurst, population of 25,000, a little town where town-folks have little businesses, little community and friends and family from every neighborhoods. So quiet, so peaceful, so- "Boring!" Connie say herself out loud from the outskirts of the town. "Agent Avis, please take this mission seriously." That was Connie boss on the phone, director Jade, the one who assign this boring mission to Connie "Oh come on, Jade. I was expecting a ghost town full with actual ghosts, not normal people living normal life" Connie say while looking at the town people with her mini binocular, she sees young lady bumping into a old man and then the next she see a old lady walking....really, really, slowing. "Well, from what our agents gather, the hunters send one of their own in to town, along with their assistant." "What you think they will catch?" "I'm betting the leader of the pack, our agents say the hunters send their coldest hunter yet...Their one probably doesn't have a soul in his body" Connie look around town again, trying to spot the killer but with a huge population, this is going to be a problem. Connie was kind of surprise that their agents didn't catcher a photo of the killer but then again, Division of Supernatural Investigation and The Hunters have been at each other throats for years and they want to keep their hunter identity a secret. "So you want me to go into a forest, try to find the pack location, talk the pack leader, aka the Alpha, and try to convince him and his pack to move into a new location before the hunter find them?" "That's pretty much it, yeah" There was a pause between the two supernatural beings "...That sounds like a really good plan, but there is one problem...I am a witch! And you remember last time I try to talk to a pack" Connie was young when she gone to her first werewolf and let's just say, she accidentally say some things and the pack leader was pissed off. Thank god that Accalia, the werewolf she save years ago, calm down the leader "Why can you send Accalia here? I'm sure that she'll convince the leader way better then me." "Well, we don't know if the hunters send more then one of their kind but magic like yours, you can take them out, one by one. Beside, Agent Valerie was send to Ireland trying to prevent a war between two fairy kingdom. Now go find the pack leader and if we don't hear from you about three days, we are sending the team to take the pact to their new location....Good luck, Agent Avis. and that being said, Director Jade hang up to the witch agent. Connie sigh in annoyance "Of course they would send a witch to do the dirty work..." Connie put two fingers in front of her mouth and then whistle, then a Freckle-breasted thornbird came flying at Connie and landed on her shoulder, that was Connie familiar, Freckles "All right, Freckles. Are you ready to save a pack while trying not to get killed?" Freckles sing happily "Then there is no time to waste!" Connie excitedly say and then she and her familiar hops into her car and then drive into town! --- While trying to find a inn to stay at, Connie spots some little businesses like a diner, a bookstore, a coffee shop and a bar, maybe after this mission, Connie could really need a cold one right now. After finally finding a inn to stay for awhile and park her car, Connie and Freckles hop out of the car "All right, I will book us a room, while you find the pack location, got it?" Connie quietly say to her small friend. With a little nod from the small bird, Freckles then fly up in the air and into the forest. Before she enter inside, Connie spots a rather tall young man unload his large luggage. Well if Connie is going to find the pack, she need to look the part of a normal business women "Hello." Connie say to the tall man "Do you want me to help you unload your luggage into the building? It seems like you were driving for hours."</s>	<\|message\|>Lucas Hanson 40 / Male / Bar OwnerLocation: Bar parking lot • Tags: N/A The blow rocked him off his feet. Luke fell on his side, the landing shooting an additional jolt of pain through his body. He'd fallen on a rock, one possibly large enough to leave him with a bruised rib. At least it didn't have a jagged edge to inflict additional damage. The man pounded the ground once with his fist and gritted his teeth. He was finished with that fight. He didn't want to deal with the asshole anymore and he wasn't going to waste his time nor energy. Luke got to his feet surprisingly quick, spitting out blood. He closed the distance between himself and his opponent before kicking him in the gut. As the other man stumbled and attempted to regain some sort of balance, Luke threw the knockout punch. And that was that, the fight was over. Luke took a moment to catch his breath, looking down at the unconscious man. The idiot had some bulk to him so it came as no surprise that Luke wasn't able to immediately deal with him. But at least he'd gotten the job done. Luke did not tolerate thieves, and if they instigated a fight then it was free game. Luke walked over to the door leading inside. He raised his shirt to check out the damage. It wasn't anything bad from what he could tell, but then again he wasn't a doctor. He leaned against the wall and pulled out his phone, dialing the cops. "9-1-1, what's your emergency?" "Yes, I need you to send a couple of deputies to my bar; some asshole tried to break in." "Sir is this person armed?" He smirked at the question. "Nah, we're good. He's knocked out cold a few feet from me. You should probably send the ambulance too." Luke finished giving out some information before hanging up. He took a look around but there was no one in sight. The lot was empty save for his car, the thief, and that damn rock... He quickly walked over and picked up the rock, examining it for a moment. He had no idea where it had come from, and he didn't care. Luke went over to the edge of the lot and tossed it on the grass. As he did so, he heard groaning from behind him. He turned around to see the asshole had regained some of his senses. Luke was planning to go back in his bar for a moment, but that idea was out of the question now. The front door was properly locked, so business could wait. For the moment being he'd have to deal with the thief until the cops arrived.</s>
<\|description\|>Lucas Hanson Age: 40 Gender: Male Species: Human Occupation: Bar owner Personality: A bit rough around the edges given his background. Lucas doesn't take crap from anyone and will happily knock you out for stepping out of line. With that said, he's tough, but fair. Given his progression, Lucas is quite comfortable interacting with the general crowd, though he has absolutely 0 patience for nonsense. Lucas' mind isn't easily changed, and that's led to failed relationships in the past. But does he care? No, not really. Appearance: Approximately 6'2 with a strong build. His salt and pepper beard game is strong, every once in a while turning heads whenever he's out and about. Lucas has full sleeves with tattoos that are very symbolic to him, and he's happy to tell the stories if anyone is curious enough to inquire. Lucas' typical, everyday fashion? A t-shirt and jeans. History: Born and raised into trouble, Lucas practically never caught a break. His parents lived in New York City at the time, raising him in Staten Island. Throughout his time there, he's been robbed, beat, you name it. Lucas had to grow up real quick in order to survive, something he figured out from experience as well as from the many sit-downs he had had with his parents. The incident that broke the family was the death of Lucas' little sister, Lily. It happened when she was only 7 and Lucas was 13. They were walking down the road one moment and the next, gunfire broke through the air. Unfortunately, Lily caught 2 bullets, which was later discovered were not meant for her but she was a casualty nonetheless. From that point on, Lucas was never the same. His behavior took a turn for the worse, leaving his own parents terrified of him at some point. The kid was out of control, and no matter how many times he was thrown in jail, Lucas simply did not care. But slowly, things improved a little bit. Lucas realized he couldn't continue heading down that same path. There's that, and the fact that he had to become a softy for his first girlfriend who didn't tolerate any BS from him. While the guy was not academically inclined, he had some wits about him and enjoyed doing manual labor as opposed to sitting in a college classroom. How did Lucas end up in Vinehurst? Well, his elderly grandfather became sick and Lucas decided to move to town to be with him. He's lived there for 3 years now and is not in a hurry to go back to the city.</s> <\|message\|>Thane Whitlock 33 \| Male \| Fighter Location: Lake Tory Tags: Open --- Thane was stretched out on the shoreline of the lake, enjoying the rays of the sun with a cold beer in one hand. The day was peaceful and luckily for him, no one else was there for the time so he had free reign of the entire beach for himself. A perfectly quiet day for the scarred man. Across his body there was quite the pattern of scars, showing a life of fights and hardship. Of course the crowning jewel above all other scars was the one that graced his charming face, a jagged set of lines that cut across the right side of his head down to the center of his chin and neck, passing through his right eye which was now white in color compared to his other good eye. Rather then finding them being ugly, he viewed them as being memories as well as in some sense trophies, being able to recount when each one was gained. He sat up from his prone position looking out across the lake, contemplating on whether he should return to the village. Eventually his free reign over the beach would be over anyways and he'd prefer to avoid the more irritating people who would give horrified stares if they saw the amalgamation of scars that riddled him. "Fuck it might as well see what the gracious alpha has to offer for work," he finally sighed to himself, popping his neck while finishing off he bottle and taking it with him while retrieving his ruffled shirt off to the side and putting it back on. He slipped on a pair of well worn boots before making his return to the village.</s> <\|message\|>Anthony Beck 32 / Male / Alpha Location: The village Tags: Cosmina Jude looked up as Cosmina approached. He shrugged at her remark. "You know what they say: If you want it done right..." He stood and picked up his water jug. He was in desperate need of a shower, and then dinner. He still had a bit of venison left over from the last hunt he went on. That would go well with some vegetables from the community garden and some of the seasoning he bought in town the other day. His stomach gave a growl as he thought about it. "Well, I'm about to pack up for day, I think," He said as he began to gather his power tools. He couldn't risk them gathering morning dew. "Wanna' help me get these back to the tool shed?" 31 / Male / Hunter Location: In town Tags: Connie Anthony unloaded his trunk from the back of the Corvette and set it on the ground to close the compartment lid. Just as he bent over to haul the trunk back up, a woman approached him. This wasn't terribly unusually. Anthony was a good looking man, a fact that he was very aware of. He was used to strange women coming over and trying their hand at flirting with him. Most of the time he was pretty receptive; he wasn't one to say no to a good time. But he was a little busy at the moment, and he didn't want this broad putting her paws all over his luggage. He gave a sweet looking crooked smile as he lifted the trunk up on his own. "No thanks, I think I've got it."</s> <\|message\|>Cosmina Aleksandrina Chaykovsky --- 24 female Pack Fighter Location: Wolf village / Tag: Jude Vanderbilt @Metronome --- --- She took in the sweet scent of the Alpha's musk as he stood and began moving around, Jude's sweat, along with Cosmina's enhanced sense of smell, making it easy to pick up. Jude was big, powerful, and buff like a leader of a pack should be. Though she would never admit it out loud, Cosmina was quite curious as to why he hadn't taken a mate yet. Genetics proved that his offspring would most likely be just as big and strong as their father and his father before him. Certainly, Jude wanted to keep his family's bloodline going. The sound of Jude's growling stomach made Cosmina quirk a brow. She had let the time of day slip away from her in her boredom. It was already dinner time, and with a sudden realization, she discovered how hungry she was. Cosmina gave a slight frown at Jude's question. Just because he was fond of what she dubbed menial work didn't mean she was as well. "No," she replied rather flatly. Cosmina would have casually walked away with that had she been in a more negative mood. But she wasn't. Instead, Cosmina stood there extending her arms and waited to be loaded up by her Alpha.</s> <\|message\|>Olivia Scott Olivia Scott27 \| Female \| Beta Location: Downtown Tags: Thane @Argetlam350 Olivia took a sip of her green tea. The young woman was not a fan of coffee. In fact, she despised the taste. But the employees at Common Grounds were not aware of that, though they never really questioned why she never had coffee and always asked for tea or juice. Dropping a dollar bill in the tip jar, Olivia waved at one of her acquaintances behind the register before walking outside. She figured it was about time to start heading back to the village, but she would make a little stop on the way. She wasn't in any hurry after all. Some time later, Olivia was approaching the lake. The days weren't scorching hot anymore, yet people still gathered for a swim. It took some time, but Olivia eventually noticed the familiar frame walking away. "Thane!" She waved, quickly walking over to catch up to him. "Caught you just leaving, huh? I was going to stick around for a bit, any chance you'd like to join me for a swim?" She lifted an arm, showing him her collection of bags. "I may have gotten a little carried away with the shopping, but I purchased an amazing one-piece for dirt cheap."</s> <\|message\|>Connie Avis 28 / Female / Witch Agent "Normal Business Women" Location: In Town Tags: @Metronome Anthony --- "Already then! i will saw you around town, sir!" connie gladly say to the tall man, she then walked toward her car and grab her bag. When Connie entered the inn, she spot a female clerk at the front desk, who was just making loved eyes toward the tall man outside, Connie rings the bell "Ummm, hello?" The clerk finally snapped out of it when Connie speak to her. "Oh! sorry, miss. I was distracted." "Yeah, no kidding" Connie say sarcastically "Anyway, I would like to book a room for one, please?" "Sure thing, how long will you be staying here?" Oh shit, how long will connie stayed in this town? Days? Weeks? Months? Years?! Connie had no idea where the pack location is or who the hunter was, all she knows that there is no time to waste "Five days, that's all." the clerk nod and handed connie the keys. "I hope you enjoyed your stay here in Vinehurst" Connie unlocked the door and the room was not that bad, not that great but not that bad. The room had two beds, a bathroom, a tv and one window right next to the left bed. Connie opened the window and sees her birdie familiar flying up in the sky, Freckles fly toward the inn and land on the ledge of the window. "Hello Freckles, did you found the pack location?" Freckles made a sad noise and shook his head. Damn, Connie guessed that the location was very hidden in the woods, or in a better least, covered in a invisible barrier. Connie signs while she and freckles sat on the bed. "Well, Freckles, I guess we are going to be here for awhile." Connie say to her bird friend, if finding the hunter and the location, she wonders if the assistant was going to be a challenge, are they more heartless and cold like the hunter? --- 25 / Male / Assistant Location: In Town Tags: @Metronome Anthony --- It's been thirty hours since Alex family kicked him out of the family car and into the streets, it's been twenty-seven hours since after Alex was done crying and thinking how his life had gone to hell. Alex had been sitting on the side of the sidewalk while people walked past him, thinking he was probably a drunk homeless guy or something but he doesn't care, he could have been writing his book and enjoy his new life, but instead of that, his only family threatened him, put a curse on him, put him in the trunk of their car for hours and then tell him good luck while laughing at him. Alex turn on his phone and saw a voicemail, he guess while he was zone out, someone was trying to called him, when he answered the voicemail, Alex heard a angry and aggressive voiced, telling him to get his ass over here. That was probably Anthony Beck, the hunter that his family mention. After pulling himself together, Alex finally found Anthony by his car and he was exactly what alex picture him, tall, dark, and handsome...He also have the eyes of a killer. Alex heart begins to ride as he walked toward the hunter, he wants to run away, go to a another country, changed his name, his looks and start a brand new life, but there no going backed now and he had to faced the facts that he was going to be killed in the end by the wolves....or be killed the hunter. "Um, hi Mr. Beck, you're Mr. Beck right?" alex sheepishly say "I, um, I know that you were kinda expecting one of my family members to be your assistant but they picked me to be your guy. Oh! Er, um, my name Alex Theron. It's nice to meet you." Alex say as he offers a handshake.</s> <\|message\|>Thane Whitlock 33 \| Male \| Fighter Location: Lake Tory Tags: Olivia @Asesina --- Thane was about to make his way back home when he heard his name shouted out. He turned slightly to see with his good eye that it was Olivia. He waved back stopping he walk and waiting for her to reach him. When he had first joined the pack he was honestly surprised to hear that she was the beta due to her short stature but shortly after found out she could handle herself quite well with the pack dynamics along with while perhaps short for her human self, her other half made up for the size difference but quite a bit. "A swim with you? Hmm return to the village and work or swim with you?" he stated, pretending to weigh the options like they were anywhere near equal to one another. "Well if you twist my arm, who am I to deny such a request," he chuckled though was happy to be able to enjoy Olivia's company after a rather dull day of relaxing on his own ",Plus I guess I get to judge if this one piece you speak of is truely amazing."</s>	<\|message\|>Lucas Hanson 40 / Male / Bar OwnerLocation: Metal Gear Liquid • Tags: N/A A gentle tap with his foot elicited a response from the crook. Another groan, accompanied by a half-assed attempt to shoo Luke away with a wave of his arm. Prior to that point, the man hadn't moved much. Not that Luke had kept tabs on him the entire time. From the corner of his eye, Luke saw a couple of people entering the lot. He turned his head to see the deputies walking up to him. "Officers, glad to see y'all. This is the idiot that attempted the break in." "Were you inside when it occurred?" The male asked. "Yes, I'd just gotten here. Was about to do some work then I heard the back door open. I saw him walking in and that's when I rushed him. Next thing I knew we were both throwing punches." As he was finishing his statement, Luke noticed two paramedics approaching them. He motioned to the man on the floor, and also turned them down when they asked him if he wanted quick treatment for his face. He didn't need a band-aid, and he had plenty of ice inside. "Thank you guys, I appreciate it either way but I'll be fine." The paramedics returned a quick nod before gathering around the thief to examine him. "Sir, do you have your driver license? I'm going to take your information down and also have you fill out a statement form. Oh, and do you have any cameras on the property? We'd like to take a look at the footage if possible." "Sure, come with me." The female deputy followed Luke into the bar while her partner remained outside with the paramedics. As the two walked past the entrance, Luke reached in his back pocket for his ID before handing it off to her. He then guided her to his office where he had his computer. It wouldn't take all that long to get the playback given that the incident hadn't occurred that long ago. Luke sat down at his desk and logged into the security system. He then rewinded the footage from the camera overlooking the lot. "There he is, walking up." Luke pointed to the man on the screen and the deputy got a little closer to him, leaning over his shoulder. He immediately picked up on the fact that she smelled good, but he composed himself. He was, after all, the victim of a crime.</s>
<\|description\|>Jude Vanderbilt Age: 32 Gender: Male Species: Werewolf Rank: Alpha Personality: Jude is aloof, reserved, and strategic. He's a real "strong and silent" type. There are moments when he lets his guard down and has a good time with the pack, but, for the most part, he is content to sit back and watch them have fun. Part of this may be because he became alpha fairly recently. He may lighten up a little with time, but with the up coming events, it's not likely. Appearance: He's big. Jude is massive both in and out of his wolf form. He's very muscular and solid. Jude's hair, beard, and eyes are dark brown. His skin tone is a light olive. In his wolf form, Jude is the largest in the pack. His fur is black and ash, and his eyes are a golden orange. History: Jude's parents were long time members of the pack. His great great grandfather first took the alpha title after the current alpha's untimely demise. It's been passed down his bloodline ever since. Jude's own father was the alpha for years, until a particularly nasty clan of vampires targeted the town. The bloody battle between the pack and the bloodsuckers had mass casualties on both sides. Jude's father was severely injured and, despite the medic's best efforts, he passed by morning. Jude was a teenager at the time. The fight got desperate enough that even the younger wolves were allowed to join the fray, and he was no different. Jude was on the battlefield when his father got cut down by a ruthless vampire, and he's never forgotten it. He's harbored animosity towards their kind ever since. His mother took up the alpha title. She lead the pack for several more years, until trouble brewed in their sister pack's territory across country. His mother left to help settle the chaos there, and passed the title on to Jude. He's only lead the pack for a year or two. He pretends like the stress doesn't bother him, but he's clearly changed ever since being put in charge. He's way less fun.</s> <\|message\|>Anthony Beck 32 / Male / Alpha Location: The village Tags: Cosmina Jude looked up as Cosmina approached. He shrugged at her remark. "You know what they say: If you want it done right..." He stood and picked up his water jug. He was in desperate need of a shower, and then dinner. He still had a bit of venison left over from the last hunt he went on. That would go well with some vegetables from the community garden and some of the seasoning he bought in town the other day. His stomach gave a growl as he thought about it. "Well, I'm about to pack up for day, I think," He said as he began to gather his power tools. He couldn't risk them gathering morning dew. "Wanna' help me get these back to the tool shed?" 31 / Male / Hunter Location: In town Tags: Connie Anthony unloaded his trunk from the back of the Corvette and set it on the ground to close the compartment lid. Just as he bent over to haul the trunk back up, a woman approached him. This wasn't terribly unusually. Anthony was a good looking man, a fact that he was very aware of. He was used to strange women coming over and trying their hand at flirting with him. Most of the time he was pretty receptive; he wasn't one to say no to a good time. But he was a little busy at the moment, and he didn't want this broad putting her paws all over his luggage. He gave a sweet looking crooked smile as he lifted the trunk up on his own. "No thanks, I think I've got it."</s> <\|message\|>Cosmina Aleksandrina Chaykovsky --- 24 female Pack Fighter Location: Wolf village / Tag: Jude Vanderbilt @Metronome --- --- She took in the sweet scent of the Alpha's musk as he stood and began moving around, Jude's sweat, along with Cosmina's enhanced sense of smell, making it easy to pick up. Jude was big, powerful, and buff like a leader of a pack should be. Though she would never admit it out loud, Cosmina was quite curious as to why he hadn't taken a mate yet. Genetics proved that his offspring would most likely be just as big and strong as their father and his father before him. Certainly, Jude wanted to keep his family's bloodline going. The sound of Jude's growling stomach made Cosmina quirk a brow. She had let the time of day slip away from her in her boredom. It was already dinner time, and with a sudden realization, she discovered how hungry she was. Cosmina gave a slight frown at Jude's question. Just because he was fond of what she dubbed menial work didn't mean she was as well. "No," she replied rather flatly. Cosmina would have casually walked away with that had she been in a more negative mood. But she wasn't. Instead, Cosmina stood there extending her arms and waited to be loaded up by her Alpha.</s> <\|message\|>Olivia Scott Olivia Scott27 \| Female \| Beta Location: Downtown Tags: Thane @Argetlam350 Olivia took a sip of her green tea. The young woman was not a fan of coffee. In fact, she despised the taste. But the employees at Common Grounds were not aware of that, though they never really questioned why she never had coffee and always asked for tea or juice. Dropping a dollar bill in the tip jar, Olivia waved at one of her acquaintances behind the register before walking outside. She figured it was about time to start heading back to the village, but she would make a little stop on the way. She wasn't in any hurry after all. Some time later, Olivia was approaching the lake. The days weren't scorching hot anymore, yet people still gathered for a swim. It took some time, but Olivia eventually noticed the familiar frame walking away. "Thane!" She waved, quickly walking over to catch up to him. "Caught you just leaving, huh? I was going to stick around for a bit, any chance you'd like to join me for a swim?" She lifted an arm, showing him her collection of bags. "I may have gotten a little carried away with the shopping, but I purchased an amazing one-piece for dirt cheap."</s> <\|message\|>Connie Avis 28 / Female / Witch Agent "Normal Business Women" Location: In Town Tags: @Metronome Anthony --- "Already then! i will saw you around town, sir!" connie gladly say to the tall man, she then walked toward her car and grab her bag. When Connie entered the inn, she spot a female clerk at the front desk, who was just making loved eyes toward the tall man outside, Connie rings the bell "Ummm, hello?" The clerk finally snapped out of it when Connie speak to her. "Oh! sorry, miss. I was distracted." "Yeah, no kidding" Connie say sarcastically "Anyway, I would like to book a room for one, please?" "Sure thing, how long will you be staying here?" Oh shit, how long will connie stayed in this town? Days? Weeks? Months? Years?! Connie had no idea where the pack location is or who the hunter was, all she knows that there is no time to waste "Five days, that's all." the clerk nod and handed connie the keys. "I hope you enjoyed your stay here in Vinehurst" Connie unlocked the door and the room was not that bad, not that great but not that bad. The room had two beds, a bathroom, a tv and one window right next to the left bed. Connie opened the window and sees her birdie familiar flying up in the sky, Freckles fly toward the inn and land on the ledge of the window. "Hello Freckles, did you found the pack location?" Freckles made a sad noise and shook his head. Damn, Connie guessed that the location was very hidden in the woods, or in a better least, covered in a invisible barrier. Connie signs while she and freckles sat on the bed. "Well, Freckles, I guess we are going to be here for awhile." Connie say to her bird friend, if finding the hunter and the location, she wonders if the assistant was going to be a challenge, are they more heartless and cold like the hunter? --- 25 / Male / Assistant Location: In Town Tags: @Metronome Anthony --- It's been thirty hours since Alex family kicked him out of the family car and into the streets, it's been twenty-seven hours since after Alex was done crying and thinking how his life had gone to hell. Alex had been sitting on the side of the sidewalk while people walked past him, thinking he was probably a drunk homeless guy or something but he doesn't care, he could have been writing his book and enjoy his new life, but instead of that, his only family threatened him, put a curse on him, put him in the trunk of their car for hours and then tell him good luck while laughing at him. Alex turn on his phone and saw a voicemail, he guess while he was zone out, someone was trying to called him, when he answered the voicemail, Alex heard a angry and aggressive voiced, telling him to get his ass over here. That was probably Anthony Beck, the hunter that his family mention. After pulling himself together, Alex finally found Anthony by his car and he was exactly what alex picture him, tall, dark, and handsome...He also have the eyes of a killer. Alex heart begins to ride as he walked toward the hunter, he wants to run away, go to a another country, changed his name, his looks and start a brand new life, but there no going backed now and he had to faced the facts that he was going to be killed in the end by the wolves....or be killed the hunter. "Um, hi Mr. Beck, you're Mr. Beck right?" alex sheepishly say "I, um, I know that you were kinda expecting one of my family members to be your assistant but they picked me to be your guy. Oh! Er, um, my name Alex Theron. It's nice to meet you." Alex say as he offers a handshake.</s> <\|message\|>Thane Whitlock 33 \| Male \| Fighter Location: Lake Tory Tags: Olivia @Asesina --- Thane was about to make his way back home when he heard his name shouted out. He turned slightly to see with his good eye that it was Olivia. He waved back stopping he walk and waiting for her to reach him. When he had first joined the pack he was honestly surprised to hear that she was the beta due to her short stature but shortly after found out she could handle herself quite well with the pack dynamics along with while perhaps short for her human self, her other half made up for the size difference but quite a bit. "A swim with you? Hmm return to the village and work or swim with you?" he stated, pretending to weigh the options like they were anywhere near equal to one another. "Well if you twist my arm, who am I to deny such a request," he chuckled though was happy to be able to enjoy Olivia's company after a rather dull day of relaxing on his own ",Plus I guess I get to judge if this one piece you speak of is truely amazing."</s> <\|message\|>Lucas Hanson 40 / Male / Bar OwnerLocation: Metal Gear Liquid • Tags: N/A A gentle tap with his foot elicited a response from the crook. Another groan, accompanied by a half-assed attempt to shoo Luke away with a wave of his arm. Prior to that point, the man hadn't moved much. Not that Luke had kept tabs on him the entire time. From the corner of his eye, Luke saw a couple of people entering the lot. He turned his head to see the deputies walking up to him. "Officers, glad to see y'all. This is the idiot that attempted the break in." "Were you inside when it occurred?" The male asked. "Yes, I'd just gotten here. Was about to do some work then I heard the back door open. I saw him walking in and that's when I rushed him. Next thing I knew we were both throwing punches." As he was finishing his statement, Luke noticed two paramedics approaching them. He motioned to the man on the floor, and also turned them down when they asked him if he wanted quick treatment for his face. He didn't need a band-aid, and he had plenty of ice inside. "Thank you guys, I appreciate it either way but I'll be fine." The paramedics returned a quick nod before gathering around the thief to examine him. "Sir, do you have your driver license? I'm going to take your information down and also have you fill out a statement form. Oh, and do you have any cameras on the property? We'd like to take a look at the footage if possible." "Sure, come with me." The female deputy followed Luke into the bar while her partner remained outside with the paramedics. As the two walked past the entrance, Luke reached in his back pocket for his ID before handing it off to her. He then guided her to his office where he had his computer. It wouldn't take all that long to get the playback given that the incident hadn't occurred that long ago. Luke sat down at his desk and logged into the security system. He then rewinded the footage from the camera overlooking the lot. "There he is, walking up." Luke pointed to the man on the screen and the deputy got a little closer to him, leaning over his shoulder. He immediately picked up on the fact that she smelled good, but he composed himself. He was, after all, the victim of a crime.</s> <\|message\|>Olivia Scott Olivia Scott27 \| Female \| Beta Location: Lake Tory Tags: Thane @Argetlam350 "Oh well, judge away, but you will see for yourself," she smiled before turning around and heading off to change. It didn't take long for her to slip on the one-piece, and soon after that she was walking back barefoot, her shoes and neatly folded-up clothes tucked away in the empty bag that was previously being used. "Like I said, amazing." Olivia pretended to be a model for a moment but she couldn't hold in her laughter. She then motioned for Thane to follow her as she walked towards the shore. Once there, she set her stuff down and decided to test the water. It wasn't as warm as the prior months, but to her it didn't make a difference. She welcomed the refreshing feeling after spending a couple of hours walking around town. "I can't believe the water is this nice," Olivia mentioned, swimming out away from shore. It was only a matter of moments before she couldn't touch the bottom. "Thane!" She suddenly yelled for him, waving her arms frantically before her head disappeared underwater.</s>	<\|message\|>Jude Vanderbilt 32 / Male / Alpha Location: The village Tags: Cosmina Jude raised an eyebrow at the rudeness of the fighter. Not that he didn't expect it. Cosmina had a nasty habit of thinking that pulling her weight was below her. Or, at least, that was what he'd gathered. Jude handed her the table saw, and picked up the other tools himself. "Be careful with that, it's expensive," He warned. He led the way to the tool shed, where he neatly put away the wood working equipment for another day. He turned to face Cosmina. "Thanks for the help. I'd better go get cleaned up." And with that, he excused himself and made for his own cabin.</s>
<\|description\|>Tristan Kuwabatake-Fletcher The Troll-Killer Bold: +0 Good: -1 Strong: +1 Wary: +2 Weird: +1 Rights: I have an enchanted weapon When I encounter something unnatural, I have the right to roll Weird. On 10+, I ask the MC 2 of the following. On 7–9, ask 1. • Is this a thing of old ways, new ways, or ways unknown to me? • What manner of person made this thing, or is it its own? • For what does this thing hunger, or by what has it sated itself? • What would this thing make the world into, if it only could? On a miss, ask 1, but the thing may ask a question of you in return, from this list or of its own devising. Answer truthfully. I have the right to slay whom I must for the protection of all In single combat, I have the right to spend 1 more than my roll alone would allow Who? I am the son of an expert warrior who has trained me well, and an English bowyer. My father is part of a company of elite warriors who have been exiled from their homeland who travelled far, following the legends of Rome, in search of a new place of Lords to sell their swords and undertake new duties. The chivalric code of conduct came naturally to many of the Exiles, who integrated it with their own. As the second generation, I have been taught this synthesis of chivalry and of my father's strict martial traditions. My father was also a deeply spiritual man, but not a Christian. It is both his spiritualism and the esoteric faiths of my mother's England that I have been raised with, and that I also put a great importance in. I am no longer a child, but I am still defined by being my father's son. His reputation is fearsome, and his People, the Pilgrims in Exile, are my people as well - together they try to rebuild as much of their traditions as they can pass down to the next generation. While I am inspired by their legacy, I am also an Englishman. I will build my own legacy, that of an English Knight, from the tools that my People have given me. This is why I have struck out on my own, out from under my People's shadow. I have no land, no titles, and as yet few deeds to my name. I carry my father's bow and my mother's arrows, my People's knowledge, and a heart and mind uniquely my own. Here is my vow: I will be Just, Courageous and Compassionate. In all things I will show Integrity, Honour and Loyalty. I must never strike in anger, and I will spill no unneeded blood. If blood need be spilled, I must cut decisively and with true intent. I seek honour in duty and I seek greatness through my service to all. People: The Pilgrims in Exile, of which I am typical (of my generation) They are bound by a single common experience They are a warrior order, 16 souls in 16 households of 16 warriors They are lean and tawny-brown They mostly speak Latin with mixed fluencies, due to following the Pax Romana from their homeland Stats: +1 War, +1 Rites, 0 Wealth War: They are known for their physical prowess and their individual skill at arms Rites: They are known for their fearlessness in the face of death and their patience in suffering Wealth: They are known for their craft and skill Household: I have a humble place in another's household The household is an Inn at which I am hosted by the Innkeeper's charity Horse and stables Tenants A kitchen, pantry and buttery Debts Personal belongings: Distinctive clothing of a sky-blue silk shirt, and black gambeson trousers. An elaborate black quiver with blue silk thread stitching. I am without ornament, though my hair is tied back in a distinctive tight bun My drinking cup is lacquered wood of fine craft My knife is of long cord-wrapped iron. Arms and Armor: A dagger (2 harm) A bardiche (3 harm) Hide armor (1 armor) A leather helmet (1 armor) An enchanted bow of ancient yew (4 harm at range, can harm non-flesh creatures) Has a bounty of fur and a bounty of meat</s> <\|message\|>Tristan Kuwabatake-Fletcher Tristan is eager and brash, but he is also curious and superstitious himself - until now, he'd assumed the matter was brigands to be disarmed and disabled. Their hesitation gives him pause, but Nin immediately sets herself upon that task for him. This gives him a chance to slip away, and find her again soon. [Weird 1+5+1 = 7 = I ask one question of the other world] He has hunted in this place, and he has left an offering of berries and water after every success. He is familiar to this place, now. Nin can talk to the people about what they've seen; Tristan is going to find a quiet place of prayer closer to the forest, where he will bring two cups of beer: One placed in offering, and one for himself. He closes his eyes and he counts his breaths as he drinks. He will have communion with the spirits and listen to what they have to say about the threat, what has disturbed the woods here. Breathe in. Breathe out. Just as he was taught.</s> <\|message\|>Robena Coilleghille It is cold justice to be used as a beast of burden. Ten thousand wordless equine grumbles are finally soothed with some small measure of justice as the bread is stacked atop the apples and the leg of ham and the blackberry preserves and - oh! With strength and balance so impressive as to draw a gasp from the entire crowd, Robena shifts the entire great weight piled upon her to one arm in an instant. She bends down with the speed of a viper and her hand closes around the honey-jar - and around Constance's smaller and more delicate fingers. For a moment they're caught there, half-bowed, hands entangled, making the mistakes of looking into each other's eyes. "Thank you," "You're welcome," Words that may as well come from bystanders for all they communicated that strange electricity that in this moment existed between them. Robena stands tall again, drawing another appreciative murmur from the crowd as she once again hefts the entire weight of the gifts without any loss of balance. Those arms can hold a shield of metal steady through the horizontal waterfall of a horse in gallop and so they hold all of the river-daughter's gifts steady. Perhaps were Constance herself to climb as she did as a wild-faced child and sit atop that bounty the knight's arms would still not tremble - or at least, not from the weight. "You are happy here?" she asks, again bystander-words borrowed from the tongues of those who might speak without tangling their tongues. "No evil has beset you or yours?"</s> <\|message\|>Lostwithiel Castle Constance and Robena The crowd is gathered, the gifts put to the side. The sun is nearly at its zenith and square is cleared for the ceremony. Robena, you are in place to ensure nothing untoward happens. It is...unlikely that anything untoward will happen, but there is something unusual. The young priest who advises the Duchess is in the audience (Constance, you know her name is Cerwen, Robena you probably do not). Although you are newly returned Robena, you have already heard her preach at least, and so would recognize her as a priest by the fiery red hair, which she keeps long and loose over her brown robe, a sort of open challenge to many of the druids, though the small golden cross at her neck makes no doubt of her preferences. She is frowning and looking at something in the square with concern, and she presently strides forward ahead of the crowd. She speaks in a low, hushed tone, but an unusually educated one as she approaches the two of you. Constance, you recognize her from counsel "My apologies, I know we had made our arrangements, but I am...concerned at the state of things. The harvest is liable to be poor this year, and I wonder, perhaps, if you would permit me to join the benediction. I could offer a blessing alongside your own, a small change to the ceremony of course. I think it would do the people great good." Three points. First, you two have a moment for a few closing words before the priest strides forwards to talk. Second, she's not looking at either of you, she's looking at the ground as she's speaking, and the soil at your feet doesn't look particularly healthy, so it would be fair to say that she has a point. Third, what she's asking would deny you your right, Constance. How do you respond? Tristan You slip away in the stream of pilgrims carrying your beers to one of the streams not far from the keep walls. It's not difficult to take a moment, there are many travelers on the road, but even a moment or two walking off the path leaves you quite alone. The air feels low and heavy without being wet enough to mist and the ground drinks the beer you lay upon it heavily. It seeps deep into the earth and you see small cracks form in the dry soil, as though opening from below, and a small beetle is thrown out and scampers for the nearest bit of grass to hide under, scattering the little pill bugs that were already there. Nin Depends what you mean by "best" exactly. Fastest would be to just walk right up to the pelt merchant. She's already talking, it's obvious she knows the rumors, just confront her directly, invoke the countess and demand that she speak the truth. You're absolutely in control here, even with Tristan slipped off somewhere. The question is really about how you want to play this longer. Your accusation carries a lot of weight and you'll embarrass the merchant if you take this route, as well as make the others hesitant to speak with you in the future because you'll look like someone dangerous to their good standing in the castle town. Especially if you react to what you hear with scorn after demanding it. If you're less concerned with speed and more with your relationships here, take a moment to look over the wares, maybe buy something, make small talk and let them disperse a bit. Ask the pelt merchant more quietly what she really saw, reassure her that you're interested in information and that you will not scorn her no matter what she shares with you.</s> <\|message\|>Kenina "Nin" Haig Nin is the listening type, less of a talker, and while she has authority here, she's never been used to waving it around. So she just nods at the pelt merchant when she talks about the wolves, as if her scowl is reserved for the wolves and not the lie, then ask her about her pelts. She spends some time letting the merchant show her various pelts and picks out one that she fancies while she waits for the other merchants to return to their own work. She lets the merchant do most of the talking while she listens and studies the pelts. When she feels like they've become sufficiently casual, and there's no one else paying close attention, she quietly brings the conversation back on topic. "I got the feeling there was more you wished to tell me, in private perhaps, about the roads. Did you see something else? I am only looking for information, you understand; you have my word that what you tell me will stay between you and me."</s>	<\|message\|>Tristan Kuwabatake-Fletcher "Thank you." Tristan bows his head. He takes a fallen leaf and makes a larger shade for the scattered pillbugs with it. "Thank you too, little ones. Sometimes the message takes a toll on its messenger." He stays until he's finished his beer. He is in a communion with the woods here, not a transaction. Leaving as soon as you have what you want is disrespectful. It's rude. So he savours his beer and thinks for a while. Listens, and breathes. He collects the cups, and bows his head again when it's time to leave. Then he's off like a shot back to Nin, a thoughtful grimace. This has all the hallmarks of a Sign that'll be more obvious in retrospect. He considers the common themes. Something large being driven from its home, trying to move into someone else's? Conflict brought by displacement... The solution might not be bloodshed, then. Find where the threat came from, and learn why it can't go home. Or maybe just put up more of a fight than the pillbugs did. Nin's still talking when he gets back. He'll wait for her to finish before he intrudes. If he's needed, she'll ask. He stands away from the stall and bouncing on his feet instead, resisting the urge to do pushups. Or chinups. Or- He hasn't fired an arrow today! Is his knife sharp? When's the last time he stropped it? (Yesterday.) Could he light a fire right now, if he needed to? (Yes.) Does he know?! (No.) He is waiting very patiently for Nin from a reasonable distance, so as not to bother her.</s>
<\|description\|>Tristan Kuwabatake-Fletcher The Troll-Killer Bold: +0 Good: -1 Strong: +1 Wary: +2 Weird: +1 Rights: I have an enchanted weapon When I encounter something unnatural, I have the right to roll Weird. On 10+, I ask the MC 2 of the following. On 7–9, ask 1. • Is this a thing of old ways, new ways, or ways unknown to me? • What manner of person made this thing, or is it its own? • For what does this thing hunger, or by what has it sated itself? • What would this thing make the world into, if it only could? On a miss, ask 1, but the thing may ask a question of you in return, from this list or of its own devising. Answer truthfully. I have the right to slay whom I must for the protection of all In single combat, I have the right to spend 1 more than my roll alone would allow Who? I am the son of an expert warrior who has trained me well, and an English bowyer. My father is part of a company of elite warriors who have been exiled from their homeland who travelled far, following the legends of Rome, in search of a new place of Lords to sell their swords and undertake new duties. The chivalric code of conduct came naturally to many of the Exiles, who integrated it with their own. As the second generation, I have been taught this synthesis of chivalry and of my father's strict martial traditions. My father was also a deeply spiritual man, but not a Christian. It is both his spiritualism and the esoteric faiths of my mother's England that I have been raised with, and that I also put a great importance in. I am no longer a child, but I am still defined by being my father's son. His reputation is fearsome, and his People, the Pilgrims in Exile, are my people as well - together they try to rebuild as much of their traditions as they can pass down to the next generation. While I am inspired by their legacy, I am also an Englishman. I will build my own legacy, that of an English Knight, from the tools that my People have given me. This is why I have struck out on my own, out from under my People's shadow. I have no land, no titles, and as yet few deeds to my name. I carry my father's bow and my mother's arrows, my People's knowledge, and a heart and mind uniquely my own. Here is my vow: I will be Just, Courageous and Compassionate. In all things I will show Integrity, Honour and Loyalty. I must never strike in anger, and I will spill no unneeded blood. If blood need be spilled, I must cut decisively and with true intent. I seek honour in duty and I seek greatness through my service to all. People: The Pilgrims in Exile, of which I am typical (of my generation) They are bound by a single common experience They are a warrior order, 16 souls in 16 households of 16 warriors They are lean and tawny-brown They mostly speak Latin with mixed fluencies, due to following the Pax Romana from their homeland Stats: +1 War, +1 Rites, 0 Wealth War: They are known for their physical prowess and their individual skill at arms Rites: They are known for their fearlessness in the face of death and their patience in suffering Wealth: They are known for their craft and skill Household: I have a humble place in another's household The household is an Inn at which I am hosted by the Innkeeper's charity Horse and stables Tenants A kitchen, pantry and buttery Debts Personal belongings: Distinctive clothing of a sky-blue silk shirt, and black gambeson trousers. An elaborate black quiver with blue silk thread stitching. I am without ornament, though my hair is tied back in a distinctive tight bun My drinking cup is lacquered wood of fine craft My knife is of long cord-wrapped iron. Arms and Armor: A dagger (2 harm) A bardiche (3 harm) Hide armor (1 armor) A leather helmet (1 armor) An enchanted bow of ancient yew (4 harm at range, can harm non-flesh creatures) Has a bounty of fur and a bounty of meat</s> <\|message\|>Tristan Kuwabatake-Fletcher Tristan nods. "That makes sense. My fear is that if we meet it before we understand the problem, it will not let us observe it, ending in bloodshed. I had thought - if it is a place it cannot go back to, it is a place we cannot find by following it. We could look for where it cannot be, but could have been? Perhaps where a new mineshaft has been cut? Or a dam has formed in an inconvenient place?" To observe without being observed is an unforgiving art: A thousand rights are undone by a single wrong. Tristan's more hesitant about that single point of failure than he is about the thing itself.</s> <\|message\|>Robena Coilleghille A cross of gold. Robena's mind turns a darker way. A lot of crosses of gold in the guts of the dragon-boats - if not atop the hoards of dragons proper. It hung from her neck like a stone and she wondered why Xristos' blood could not be caught with the wooden cup of a carpenter than the jewels and ornaments that accumulated too easily in the hands of priests. The sin of striking a holy woman was deep enough that it seemed uncharitable to tempt wayward hands into it with wealth. A melancholy cloud passes over her even as Summer is welcomed unto the earth. Perhaps this is a land where such things are unthinkable and all the knights are true. A scent on the breeze like rotting flesh tells her this is not so. "Mm," she demurs to the priestess' question. A strange one. Who wouldn't know Constance river-blessed? Who did this priestess take her for? This question indicated that she knew Robena not at all, and yet asked this stranger about her relation to another. To what end? She opted to answer with an enigma in turn. "And you know the Azure Knight?"</s> <\|message\|>Kenina "Nin" Haig "Until we know where it is, there is always a chance we'll run into it by pure chance before we're ready, or that it will find us before we find it, no matter where we go or what we do," Nin says. "That's why it's best to start by finding where it is; only then can you avoid running into it by accident. If you're worried about bloodshed, should it catch wind of us or should we fall right on top of it by accident, we can always retreat rather than fight." "And even if it is as you suspect, that it can't go back to where it came from, that don't mean we can't follow the trail it left back to its source. Or at least it will help us narrow our search."</s> <\|message\|>High King Uther Pendragon Nin and Tristan This is Nin's truest specialty: Striking out on the road for a journey. She possesses many options for finding her way, both by mundane roads and the smallest trail and by the more spiritual. Tristan, you are most empowered to learn when you encounter the beast, but Nin will get you where you're going and though there is time aplenty on the road to plan, it is time now to strike out. Talk as much as you wish, and when you're ready, Nin tell us how you find whatever of the beast you're seeking. I don't know precisely where it will be until you tell me how you find it, but I can tell you that it will be in the fields, with their tall golden wheat that still grows strong and proud. Even if the land is dryer and the seeds smaller than in past years, even if the treeline looms darkly not far away, the place where you find it somehow or other will be in the fields, in the tall grasses, the open sky and small clouds high and away above you. But that is all I know for now. Robena The priestess Cerwen turns to you with some hesitation. She clearly does not wish to talk about the Azure knight. "I know of her" she says slowly, selecting the words for that sentence with caution as Constance begins the proper ritual. "I would not fain speak of it to her opponent though" she adds hastily, obviously searching for some reason to avoid this discussion. "Surely, you wish a fair and honorable contest and ought to ask her yourself of her background when you meet her? Though if you are afraid that she is now in the service of the Duchess, you need not worry there. The Azure knight is a knight-errant and will not be here long after the tournament, I should think. Would you wish my favor for your match, God is a regal ally." She laughs nervously, confident that she's thrown you off the trail and changes the subject immediately. "Perhaps you ought ask the Lady of the Low if she might make my temporary gift more permanent. It was a present from the Duchess for my service and of no small value." She seems shockingly confident in her position to discuss the Duchess that way. Careful for her part, but utterly confident here, and therefore it's all the more strange that she doesn't want to discuss the Azure knight. You know enough about tournament rules that unless much has changed since you were gone, there's nothing wrong with asking about your opponent as long as you're not trying to gain an advantage on them. Perhaps Cerwen does have some sort of insider knowledge that she's afraid to reveal though. You might seek to win her as an ally, or accept what she offers as it stands, or reject her for misunderstanding you perhaps. No matter what you choose, tell us after of your tournament preparations, and Apricot's regalia for the competition. Constance Let me tell you what you do not feel. You do not feel the world turn wrong ways around and hurl you from it. You do not feel the earth crack and shudder in rage. You do not feel angry clouds gather to block the sun nor hear the cries of birds forced from their perches in fright. You have not done wrong and the world has not rebuked your efforts. As to whether you have done right, you can judge from the shining eyes and sticky hands of the children, who are alive and as well as can be here today, and the pile of gifts that Robena is going to have to set somewhere so she can go and be in a tournament and win glory for her Lady Marianne. Tell us why you nevertheless feel discontent and what remains on your mind for the afternoon. Will you watch the tournament?</s> <\|message\|>Robena Coilleghille There is certainly something amiss with this priestess, Robena decides. She hasn't been insulted before in such a strange way. The priestess has implied that she was dishonourable for even asking after her opponent before a match! She then advised her to beg Constance for use of one of her sacrifices as though she was powerless to intercede with Xristos without it. And in the same breath to speak in such a mercenary way about its value! She narrows her eyes askance at the woman, wondering if she is perhaps a faerie impersonating a priestess for some arcane trick. More likely she is merely dealing with a chatterbox with very strange opinions. "I already possess a crucifix, mater," said Robena steadily. "Moreover one that was cast in the Kingdom of Jerusalem, as I am newly returned from the holy land. That should be sufficient for the new ways, but for the old I intend to ask Constance for a favour to bear into battle. You need not feel bound to these, ah, new customs of knightly secrecy when it comes to either of these facts." And that indeed is the first matter of tournament preparation - to go down on bended knee before Lady Constance and request from her a favour for the tournament and offer to fight in her name. It would be a poor knight indeed who took to the lists without a maiden's kerchief to protect her. Robena herself has sat out a handful of tournaments when she could find no lady willing to sponsor her before the bouts. Some kingdoms consider her caution mere superstition, but she has not fallen from the saddle yet. Apricot's regalia and her colours, however, are as faded from dust and rain as they have ever been. Robena has done what she could to polish her armour but she lacks coin and squire both, and so will have to ride dressed in the weathered and faded colours that unite all knights of the road.</s>	<\|message\|>Tristan Kuwabatake-Fletcher Tristan agrees with Nin's case and defers to their expertise and judgement. However we find the thing, now, will be done without dissent. I'll also leave it up to Nin's judgement whether Tristan takes his polearm or not: It's big, cumbersome, and it shouldn't be needed for an exploratory mission. He'll have his much lighter knife and bow either way. It's Nin's decision on whether they are planning for a fight, or planning to avoid it.</s>
<\|description\|>Tristan Kuwabatake-Fletcher The Troll-Killer Bold: +0 Good: -1 Strong: +1 Wary: +2 Weird: +1 Rights: I have an enchanted weapon When I encounter something unnatural, I have the right to roll Weird. On 10+, I ask the MC 2 of the following. On 7–9, ask 1. • Is this a thing of old ways, new ways, or ways unknown to me? • What manner of person made this thing, or is it its own? • For what does this thing hunger, or by what has it sated itself? • What would this thing make the world into, if it only could? On a miss, ask 1, but the thing may ask a question of you in return, from this list or of its own devising. Answer truthfully. I have the right to slay whom I must for the protection of all In single combat, I have the right to spend 1 more than my roll alone would allow Who? I am the son of an expert warrior who has trained me well, and an English bowyer. My father is part of a company of elite warriors who have been exiled from their homeland who travelled far, following the legends of Rome, in search of a new place of Lords to sell their swords and undertake new duties. The chivalric code of conduct came naturally to many of the Exiles, who integrated it with their own. As the second generation, I have been taught this synthesis of chivalry and of my father's strict martial traditions. My father was also a deeply spiritual man, but not a Christian. It is both his spiritualism and the esoteric faiths of my mother's England that I have been raised with, and that I also put a great importance in. I am no longer a child, but I am still defined by being my father's son. His reputation is fearsome, and his People, the Pilgrims in Exile, are my people as well - together they try to rebuild as much of their traditions as they can pass down to the next generation. While I am inspired by their legacy, I am also an Englishman. I will build my own legacy, that of an English Knight, from the tools that my People have given me. This is why I have struck out on my own, out from under my People's shadow. I have no land, no titles, and as yet few deeds to my name. I carry my father's bow and my mother's arrows, my People's knowledge, and a heart and mind uniquely my own. Here is my vow: I will be Just, Courageous and Compassionate. In all things I will show Integrity, Honour and Loyalty. I must never strike in anger, and I will spill no unneeded blood. If blood need be spilled, I must cut decisively and with true intent. I seek honour in duty and I seek greatness through my service to all. People: The Pilgrims in Exile, of which I am typical (of my generation) They are bound by a single common experience They are a warrior order, 16 souls in 16 households of 16 warriors They are lean and tawny-brown They mostly speak Latin with mixed fluencies, due to following the Pax Romana from their homeland Stats: +1 War, +1 Rites, 0 Wealth War: They are known for their physical prowess and their individual skill at arms Rites: They are known for their fearlessness in the face of death and their patience in suffering Wealth: They are known for their craft and skill Household: I have a humble place in another's household The household is an Inn at which I am hosted by the Innkeeper's charity Horse and stables Tenants A kitchen, pantry and buttery Debts Personal belongings: Distinctive clothing of a sky-blue silk shirt, and black gambeson trousers. An elaborate black quiver with blue silk thread stitching. I am without ornament, though my hair is tied back in a distinctive tight bun My drinking cup is lacquered wood of fine craft My knife is of long cord-wrapped iron. Arms and Armor: A dagger (2 harm) A bardiche (3 harm) Hide armor (1 armor) A leather helmet (1 armor) An enchanted bow of ancient yew (4 harm at range, can harm non-flesh creatures) Has a bounty of fur and a bounty of meat</s> <\|message\|>Tristan Kuwabatake-Fletcher Tristan is pretty relieved that he didn't bring his polearm, after all. A long day would have been made longer for it. Now he can take his bow in both hands. He nocks an arrow and takes aim at the badger. He has no killing intent, and the arrow will not fly. But he has been taught to calm his mind while firing and so stillness comes most naturally to him while he is aiming. The two are as practiced as each other now, and doing one leads most naturally to doing the other. When he draws, everything disappears but for him and the target. The field is gone - he is close enough to reach out and touch it. [2d6+1=9 - I ask one: I think the most useful question to ask here is: What would this thing make the world into, if it only could?]</s> <\|message\|>Kenina "Nin" Haig While Tristan focuses on the beast, Nin observes their surroundings (+Wary: 5+5+2 = 12), casting a wary eye for any clues or details easily missed. There must be something besides the beast itself to see here. What does she see?</s> <\|message\|>Lostwithiel Castle Robena Revel for a moment in being one of the greatest knights to ever serve Lostwithiel! Your arm is strong, your aim sure. If you were less well-armed or less committed to your skill, the Azure knight would be a terrifying opponent, one who might well slay a lesser knight or unhorse them in an instant. But for you, arranged in your majestic cloak and seated surely atop Apricot, there is little risk even against a cursed knight such as this. The Azure knight spurs her horse to a gallop, sets her lance, but despite her skill and unnatural stillness, she realizes just before the approach that yours is the stronger charge. You can see that she has a moment to choose, a single instant to decide whether to set her shield and turn the blow, losing her balance in the process, or whether to take the blow head on and try to match you. For a moment, it appears as though she'll do the sane thing and protect herself from a severe wound, but in the last instant, she sets her lance straight and matches yours. As your lance penetrates her mail and strikes what is probably a rib, it breaks and you hear the first sound from her: a rough grunt that makes you think from its tenor that she may be lighter than she appears with her full armor. A small red stain turns her surcoat into a shade of purple. However, she does not lose her balance, but if she keeps up like this, she may well be killed. Rearm yourself and tell us how you approach the second pass. [The Azure knight spends 2: both on position. She inflicts 4 harm and has 3 armor, matching your position but suffering a wound in the process. From the tie, she will spend her full 3 on position in the next pass, intent on winning the contest at any cost to herself.] Constance You sway and the Master of Arms (what was his name, by the by?) stands and catches you. The Duchess Marianne looks at you with a mixture of frustration and hope. This is obviously the wrong time: you're late, disrupting the tournament, and anything she does to respond to your wild gestures now will force the jousting knights to stop, a deep disrespect to their contest. The Azure knight has not even spoken yet, and they are rearming for their second pass as you arrived. Cerwen is looking at you with obvious worry, the master of arms is trying gently but firmly to press you into your seat. Yet for all that, it's clear the Duchess wants to respond to you. She trusts you Constance, trusts the old ways, the visions, and the magic that runs through her veins. That trust, that faith in her heart is why Lostwithiel noticed the rot and stands against it now. Press her now for a response and you'll strain that trust, you will be asking a great deal, but she will do it and let you offer a pronouncement to the tournament. Or, wait, sit, question her other advisors, show your grace towards the combatants and you may have a stronger position later. How urgent is your vision, lady? Tristan You tune out your surroundings, all your attention at the point of your arrow. You follow that imaginary shot as it strikes the badger, as the creature, surprised and wounded, might retreat into a tunnel. In your mind's eye you follow it underground, to cool mud and deep earth beneath the great roots of trees. If it had the health and the energy, it would dig forever, uprooting the fields and ruining the crops. It wants the weight of great trees above it, that dampness of the roots and the sense of weight that is its heart and home. It would ruin and destroy, make the world into empty, barren land from which new seeds would spread and grow until the forest overgrew it all. It is patient for such things and cares not for the starvation of people in how it wishes the world to be. But you have not fired that shot, and all this dances only in your mind's eye. Nin [I gather the intended move is take stock, so I will answer as to the terrain and your options here] You are in a large field of wheat. Its primary characteristic is that there is little variation: farmers working the land have made it flat, even, and thick with the stalks, though some are crushed or turned from the great badger. The soil is mostly dry, easy to move quietly and lightly with little sign even for the trained. Slipping away would be the easiest thing in the world, you could bring yourself to safety and further observe or follow the creature in near complete safety. That would be the simplest way to end this encounter, though it wouldn't solve your ultimate problem. Your strength is your surprise. The beast is surely strong enough to do you great harm if enraged, and once it knows itself to be in real danger, it may flee or attack aggressively, leaving you in uncertainty. So the best way to remain strong is to preserve your surprise and use it for the greatest possible effect. Perhaps a trap of some sort combined with Tristan's bow, though even that is unlikely to bring it down in a single blow, more likely to wound it badly and scare it off. That would solve the immediate urgency of the situation, perhaps giving you time to learn more, though you would need to be willing to severely wound the monster to do that.</s> <\|message\|>Robena Coilleghille Everyone's always gotta be a damn hero. Many horses are quicker than Apricot on their hooves, but there isn't an equine in the world who can hold a candle to the speed with which he can come to a stop. He even lowers his head to chomp at a cluster of buttercups he saw by the side of the lists. It's an incredible act of disrespect but it's also a calculated one - her warhorse is smart enough to determine instantly when her heart is too conflicted to keep him under control. Horse like this can't be driven half-heartedly. And Apricot's been here before. Some stupid kid who doesn't know when she's beaten, who thinks that 'skill' and 'determination' are magic balms that'll add two feet to their height and two hands to their biceps, up against a knight who's trying to figure out how to gently disabuse them. Sometimes a curse is involved, but it doesn't need to be. What's important is that Robena is too distracted to put her back into cussing him out, and that's the same as a ducal invitation to relax. Robena grumbles and flicks the horse's ear irritably. He gives her a dirty look like she's the asshole here. Some squires are running over but Robena has already stepped down off the saddle and hefted her enormous wooden practice-ax over her shoulders. A forester's pose, never quite forgotten from her youth, held steady as she ponders. She's abandoning the joust. There's only so much you can do to avoid hurting someone when several tonnes of charging horseflesh are involved. She's going to take this to the melee where her opponent has less control over what does and doesn't get hurt. She doesn't feel the need to justify this decision; everyone in attendance saw a knight drop their shield and take a body blow. Already the healers and wicker-wise will be rushing to check that nothing was pierced, but she doesn't doubt the Azure Knight will wave them off. [Take Stock: 7. What can I observe about this curse, and what might break it?]</s>	<\|message\|>Tristan Kuwabatake-Fletcher "I fear if I shoot it, it might flee where we can not follow." Tristan lets the string back slowly, still watching the badger as the peripheral world swims back into attention. "This is not what I would like it to be. I had hoped we could lead it home, and it would do no further harm. But I think it is offended by our presence here. If we wound it and it flees, it will be in great pain, and it will most likely exact a greater pain in retribution after some time. If we are to be about this ugly business, let it be decisive." "We need the wind of surprise at our back to carry us. In that I see two options: I attack it with such fury it faces us. Or we trap it, and execute it. The second seems more sensible but... there is less virtue in it." Read: Killing something in a trap would make Tristan sad. "We may be at the limit of what can be gained from stalking. I see no further advantage we could gain, can think of no more favourable terrain to face it in." The arrow is still nocked and steady, the owner is under more tension than the bow. Tristan will be indecisive until it is time to act. He does not want to be the one to call the hour. What weighs on his mind is that he does not want Nin to get hurt in a fight, but he does not want to insult Nin by voicing this. He holds Nin in great respect, and would cut out his tongue than risk implying otherwise. It is only fair they get to decide the level of acceptable risk.</s>
<\|description\|>Tristan Kuwabatake-Fletcher The Troll-Killer Bold: +0 Good: -1 Strong: +1 Wary: +2 Weird: +1 Rights: I have an enchanted weapon When I encounter something unnatural, I have the right to roll Weird. On 10+, I ask the MC 2 of the following. On 7–9, ask 1. • Is this a thing of old ways, new ways, or ways unknown to me? • What manner of person made this thing, or is it its own? • For what does this thing hunger, or by what has it sated itself? • What would this thing make the world into, if it only could? On a miss, ask 1, but the thing may ask a question of you in return, from this list or of its own devising. Answer truthfully. I have the right to slay whom I must for the protection of all In single combat, I have the right to spend 1 more than my roll alone would allow Who? I am the son of an expert warrior who has trained me well, and an English bowyer. My father is part of a company of elite warriors who have been exiled from their homeland who travelled far, following the legends of Rome, in search of a new place of Lords to sell their swords and undertake new duties. The chivalric code of conduct came naturally to many of the Exiles, who integrated it with their own. As the second generation, I have been taught this synthesis of chivalry and of my father's strict martial traditions. My father was also a deeply spiritual man, but not a Christian. It is both his spiritualism and the esoteric faiths of my mother's England that I have been raised with, and that I also put a great importance in. I am no longer a child, but I am still defined by being my father's son. His reputation is fearsome, and his People, the Pilgrims in Exile, are my people as well - together they try to rebuild as much of their traditions as they can pass down to the next generation. While I am inspired by their legacy, I am also an Englishman. I will build my own legacy, that of an English Knight, from the tools that my People have given me. This is why I have struck out on my own, out from under my People's shadow. I have no land, no titles, and as yet few deeds to my name. I carry my father's bow and my mother's arrows, my People's knowledge, and a heart and mind uniquely my own. Here is my vow: I will be Just, Courageous and Compassionate. In all things I will show Integrity, Honour and Loyalty. I must never strike in anger, and I will spill no unneeded blood. If blood need be spilled, I must cut decisively and with true intent. I seek honour in duty and I seek greatness through my service to all. People: The Pilgrims in Exile, of which I am typical (of my generation) They are bound by a single common experience They are a warrior order, 16 souls in 16 households of 16 warriors They are lean and tawny-brown They mostly speak Latin with mixed fluencies, due to following the Pax Romana from their homeland Stats: +1 War, +1 Rites, 0 Wealth War: They are known for their physical prowess and their individual skill at arms Rites: They are known for their fearlessness in the face of death and their patience in suffering Wealth: They are known for their craft and skill Household: I have a humble place in another's household The household is an Inn at which I am hosted by the Innkeeper's charity Horse and stables Tenants A kitchen, pantry and buttery Debts Personal belongings: Distinctive clothing of a sky-blue silk shirt, and black gambeson trousers. An elaborate black quiver with blue silk thread stitching. I am without ornament, though my hair is tied back in a distinctive tight bun My drinking cup is lacquered wood of fine craft My knife is of long cord-wrapped iron. Arms and Armor: A dagger (2 harm) A bardiche (3 harm) Hide armor (1 armor) A leather helmet (1 armor) An enchanted bow of ancient yew (4 harm at range, can harm non-flesh creatures) Has a bounty of fur and a bounty of meat</s> <\|message\|>Tristan Kuwabatake-Fletcher Sir Hector's grievance splits him down the middle as sure as an axe; At once, he does not understand not taking pride and pleasure in all the good you can do. On the other, he cannot imagine how it must feel to be stopped from doing the good that you are capable of. What was he here to do? He had been here to play his part in someone else's legacy. In this, he and Hector were the same. Where they differed is that Tristan holds no resentment for a lesser part. Doesn't he? He looks inside himself and, no, finds only contentment there. "You speak as though already dead, Sir Hector." Tristan teases, smiling. "As if you have been robbed of the only part you could ever play. But you have lost only a chance - not the skills, the training, or the will. What if there is another? If someone stumbles, who else stands ready to replace them?" Not empty words. How much of this was Tristan expecting to deal with, when he agreed to fight alongside Robena and Sandsfern that night? So sure he knew the real interpretation of a second-hand prophecy about the Questing Beast? "I don't really know what to do now." Tristan admits. "But we live in interesting times. I couldn't have predicted any of this, a year ago. What sense is there predicting a year hence? Or five, or ten?" And, again, the most sincere and reassuring smile he is capable of, because it is how he really feels. "You're ready to answer when you are called, no matter how great the call. How much better that, than to be called before you are ready?" Ask Tristan if he feels like he is ready to answer when he is called, and for the first time he might say 'yes'. He feels prepared, now, in a way that another thousand-thousand archery drills would have left him wanting. He had only ever thought about needing the skills to prepare him for anything - thinking exclusively in terms of what he lacked. Sir Hector asks him instead to ask; What task is worthy of his skills? It's the first time he has been forced to consider what he is ready for, and not just what he isn't. It's... a pleasant change of perspective. He hopes things are going well with Constance, despite having no idea what that could even mean.</s> <\|message\|>Lostwithiel Castle All It is, as it always is, the unlikeliest chance that things should be as they are. That you should be here. That Hector should have smiled at Tristan and held onto a ray of hope of things never done. That Constance may have smiled in a secret night too dark by her direction for anyone to see it. That Robena may have gone to bed and perhaps, just perhaps, smiled when she reflected on her own choice. The final day of hunts does not greet you merrily, but with a growl. Sleet-thick winds strike at the castle stones and batter the windows. The clouds are gray and menacing, the sun a distant glow behind them, little more than a hint that it exists. The trees creek and crack, the snow crackles, and there is no sign of life or movement, though the scouts nevertheless went out before danw to find the boar trail. And yet...the full downpour holds itself in abeyance. Or is held, perhaps? Who could say what confluence of powers is at war in the heavens, after all? Robena You are met at dawn, such as it is, by Sir Hector. Though she has been loathe to speak with you to date, she stands before your room politely while you ready yourself. She already wears her own hunting gear: a long fur cape over her armor, a greatbow slung over her back and a great boar-spear with its high hilt held in one hand. She has prepared a sharpened boar spear for your use as well, held cautiously away from you in her other hand. For today is the boar hunt. The boar stands as the symbol of endurance and ferocious power. It has always been the pinnacle of the hunt. Not cunning or villainous, not fast, never lithe. But powerful, dangerous, and fighting to the last. The spear that Hector presents you is unadorned, but of the highest quality, with a good firm grip wrapped in leather and a point that does not show a single flaw upon it. This is a fine compliment, and one that you would not know what you have done to deserve. It is, after all, a favor to Tristan, not to you. How do you ready yourself for the final hunt on this harsh day? Constance, Tristan You are permitted, if you wish it, to sleep in. The castle is focused on Robena's last hunt, and for the early morning there is nothing else to be done. It is dark, gray, and entirely unlike a day anyone would wish to rise to meet. But you can wake, if you wish, and bathe or chat. Or you can wait, and go to see the lady Sauvage when she calls upon you mid-morning. She will not be joining the hunt at all this day, not even from a distance, and wishes instead to see you. This is a fell thing, for she has doffed most of her humanity on this last day. Her dress is a somber blueish gray, and her skin has faded to match. Her mouth is pursed, and her hands look almost as stone perched on the gilded sides of her throne. Her doom and with it the last remnants of her existence, is coming to an end. Perhaps the weather is a reflection of her mood. Or one that combats her? Regardless, she turns with the barest of motions, not to Constance, but to Tristan first. "Most unexpected" she says, her face nearly still save for her lips blue with cold. "What...do you think of the knights I have gathered here?" Is that, perhaps, the smallest of smiles at the edge of her lips? What an unlikely chance.</s> <\|message\|>Robena Coilleghille On the dawn of this, the final day of her life? She does not know enough latin to talk to god. She has no friends who could keep up through days of drink. None of her kisses have lingered. No liege lord will regret her passage, no small folk will feel her loss. She has passed through the world like a passing storm and now she's to fly away into Okeanos and vanish forever. She's not complex enough to be a true person, she decides. A true person has roots. Friends, connections, community. A stability in hearth and heart, loves that take years to build and don't flash out like a thunderbolt from clear air. She's more like an animal, an illiterate bear knight who has lived her whole life in moments. And so she has resolved to spend this final morning with those she understands. She spends it with the dogs, patting and playing and casting sticks so far even the swiftest of them cannot catch them before they hit the earth. She spends the final morning with her bastard of a horse, brushing his mane and tail and indulging his endless appetite. She spends an hour of the final morning sitting quietly and patiently enough to convince a cat to grace her with a brief sniff on the hand and brush against her legs. The kindest thing about the animals is that they can form friendships in the brief time given to a wanderer or a condemned woman. And so Robena spends her last morning with them. Perhaps she was not to be a knight for Britain, a knight for maidens, a knight for God. But perhaps she can be a knight for beasts.</s>	<\|message\|>Tristan Kuwabatake-Fletcher Constance had returned seeming... better for lack of a better word, which told Tristan his watch that night would be unneeded, unwanted. He'd taken that as a reason to retire early. The day is dark, and gray, but it is a day, and Tristan is alive to meet it. There is good food in the kitchen for breakfast, warm fireplaces and libraries. Tristan is too anxious to read by half, but he's got a lot of thoughts and he's out of practice with his poetic forms. He could talk to Liana about polishing them if he were to give them an audience, but for now it's just to get his thoughts on the page. For an hour he sits and stares at a blank page, composing and recomposing in his head. It saves crossing out the endless mistakes, heaps of crumpled balls thrown in the fireplace. It would be a crime to waste the paper. The quill does not dip in ink until, finally, he gets it. Here at winter's end The future lies in ambush I rise to meet it. There's no sense in scolding himself that it should not have taken that long. Such things take as long as they take. What is important is that he is content with it - feels grateful to have finished it just before he is summoned. The Lady's question takes Tristan by surprise, and he bows in deference, using the long moment to collect his thoughts. Again he's flipping a mindset on a dime - he's still felt like he has so much to learn about them that he's not made any conclusions. "I like them," Tristan offers, lamely. "They're kind. I must admit, I wish I understood them better. Mostly I wonder... Where will they go, after this? Do you know?" He worries for Harold. He is intrigued by Hector. And he is curious, to say the least, for the still mysterious Liliana. He glances to Constance, whose thoughts are just as mysterious to him, but takes solace in her countenance - far better than the one she bore here, not long ago.</s>
<\|description\|>Kenina "Nin" Haig The Outranger Bold +0 Good +1 Strong -1 Wary +2 Weird +1 Harm 3 Armor 2 MEETING DEATH I will live to be 100. RIGHTS You have the right to keep yourself and those in your charge safe in hostile or enemy territory. You have the right to find your way by road or trail to your destination. When you undertake to do so, roll Wary. On 10+, all three of the following are true. On 7–9, choose 2; the third is false. * You find your way at once, without much casting about for it. * The way is direct, with little meandering or backtracking. * The way is safe, and does not bring you near your enemies. On a miss, choose 1; the other 2 are false. You have the right to observe the landscape unnoticed. When you try to do so, roll Wary. On 10+, you're able to watch as long as you choose. Ask the MC what you see, and tell the MC when you slip away. On 7–9, you're able to watch for a time. Ask the MC what you see and when you must slip away to avoid discovery. On a miss, choose: * Slip away now, having seen only what you've seen. * Stay and watch. Ask the MC what you see before you're noticed, and then whether you have the chance to flee. You have the right to step out of your earthly life and journey in other places. When you choose to do so, roll Weird. On 10+, you choose your destination, and you have both wits and strength therein. On 7–9, you choose your destination, but the first time you miss a roll in that other world, you return at once to earthly life. On a miss, the MC chooses your destination. BELONGINGS - Staff (3 harm) - Hide armor (1 armor) - Leather helmet (1 armor) - Traveling cloak - Well-worn boots - Goat's horn (drinking cup) - Bone-handled knife - 1 bounty of food (goats milk products) MY HOUSEHOLD, of which I am the head, has: - goats - a dairy - a kitchen, pantry & buttery NIN'S PEOPLE They are all who live in a certain place. They are small, diverse. They speak Scottish. They number 50 souls in 6 households, including 8 warriors Rites +2 They are known for: * Their insularity * Their sorcery and enchantments * Their celebrations War -1 They are known for: * Their strategy and tactics Wealth 0 They are known for: * Their craft and skill EXPERIENCE [ ][ ][ ] A right of your own [x][ ][ ] A right of the Land Itself [ ][ ][ ] A right of the New Nobility [ ][ ][ ] A right of the Old Ways [ ][ ][ ] A right of the Other World [ ][ ][ ] A right of Personal Prowess [ ][ ][ ] A right of War [ ][ ][ ] A right of the Wider World The Ungiven Future [ ][ ][ ] Abandon this character to die [ ][ ][ ] Assume a mantle [ ][ ][ ] Awaken something terrible [ ][ ][ ] Create an inheritor to play [ ][ ][ ] The Ungiven</s> <\|message\|>High King Uther Pendragon The warm breeze of early summer ripples the forest green pennants strung atop the keep walls of Lostwithiel like emerald waves upon the ocean. The high season of campaigning is going to begin next week and the Duchess Marianne has determined to host a tournament to honor her brave knights, entertain the common folk, and perhaps attract a few new followers to her banner. This could easily be the most festive day of the year. Visiting knights saddle their horses with blankets and armor in the brightest colors of their house and the entire keep market is alive with the buzzing and murmuring of goods being traded. You can hear a mixture of delight from the merchants and low grumbling from the peasants who are, to a soul, convinced that they are being cheated in every deal but nevertheless pleased to find a few special objects and new tools to take home with them. Everything would be perfect, save that some of the knights are giving sidelong glances to their squires and watching their surroundings more keenly than you'd expect. And that perhaps a few more of the peasants and laborers are looking a little gaunt coming out of the spring. Small reminders that the roads are less safe than they were and the harvest less bountiful. But for today, they need not pay such troubles any heed. Constance and Robena Constance has been tasked with blessing the turning of the seasons to welcome the coming of summer. Robena, you have been tasked to accompany her and act as her honor guard, a high honor within the keep celebrating your welcome return. Your own match in the tournament is scheduled for later in the day and you'll have time to prepare for it. Constance, how did you spend the past season and what's the fae rumor that's worrying you as you make small talk with Robena? Robena, how did you spend the past season and what gives you confidence for the day? Oh, and you may wish to seek information on your opponent, who you know is called the Azure Knight but have never met before. Nin and Tristan Some of the supplies for the evening's feast have not arrived and you've heard ill rumors from a few of the peasants arriving most recently. It may be that the roads are worse even than people are willing to say, and the court has tasked you with looking into the matter quickly to ensure that everyone arriving for the tournament is well-fed. Tell us who you seek in town for information and how you start the...hunt let's call it. Nin, how did you spend the last season and how has it prepared you to journey this summer? Tristan, how did you spend the last season and what do you look forward to doing this summer?</s> <\|message\|>Tristan Kuwabatake-Fletcher Spring has meant four hours a day of archery practice. It's been a productive season; If the winds are gentle, he can't miss a bullseye from fifty paces now, and his muscles have grown to take the strain. Practicing while wearing armor has been an added challenge from previous years. In summer the humid nights will make for good practice at working in the darkness - learning to hone his eyes to see without the aid of torchlight, to shoot and fight in it, to better see using his ears and nose. It also means sleeping through the muggy days instead of enduring them, heavenly. When he's not training, he's preparing in other ways, trading labour for lessons from any traveller who has a skill worth learning. Lessons in sewing and in stitching wounds, the administering and treatment of poisons, knowledge in common law and uncommon lore. Anything and everything he can do to make use of the time his body heals in. For summer? He plans for more of the same. He's a tight little ball of youthful ambition, Tristan. He doesn't know when the time will come for him to prove himself, but he knows it can be measured in days. Taking breaks from his training fills him with needle-pains in his stomach and an unbearable itch in his limbs. One lesson that hasn't stuck is learning how to chill out. All work and no play makes Tristan a sharp tool and a dull boy. He's chomping at the bit to take to the woods with a hammock and a pack of provisions and make ambush. Or if the threat is more than he can take, to stalk the threat to its hideout and bring the news back to the stronghold. But Nin is the specialist here, at tracking and trailing. He stomps down his impatience as he takes to Nin's side, but he's still vibrating with enthusiasm to be helpful as best he can. These are the moments he lives for.</s>	<\|message\|>Kenina "Nin" Haig When Nin came to this land years ago, it was in a traveling carriage drawn by a single pair of young goats. Since then, she's mostly left the carriage parked near the edges of town, in favor of traveling on foot or goatback. It still serves as her home, however, and she's managed to make it quite a comfortable home too. The two goats have since become a small flock. The younger goats aren't quite like the two she started with—not quite like the goats of her homeland—because naturally she's had to breed them with local goats. But they're still very fine goats, if she's allowed to say so herself. The past few years, her flock has grown, and this spring she's spent herding them around the countryside. Keeping an eye on her herd, keeping them safe and on the right path is a good way to spend her days and also gives her plenty of opportunity to explore the lands. There are few places a goat can't wander, and Nin follows to keep them safe. She's also begun selling them and their products on the market, not that she intends for it to become a living on its own, but trade is a good way to ... keep an eye and an ear on what goes on in the local community. You get to know the kinds of people who tend to know other people, and at the market you hear a lot of things if you only keep your ears open. That's what she's been doing, and if anyone knows about supply routes and missing supplies, it's surely the traders at the market. What has she already heard? * Tristan is impatient to get out of the city and hunt something, Nin can tell (it's not hard to tell), but hunting is mostly a waiting game. It's about lying still and listening, observing, waiting for the right signs. Right now they need to find the right trail to follow, and that starts with missing supplies. If she hasn't already heard something that'll put her on the trail, someone among the traders will know what she needs to know.</s>
<\|description\|>Robena Coilleghille The War Champion, returned pilgrim from distant Jerusalem Accomplished Held in honor and acclaim Never forgetful of my mortality. Dark forests breed strong knights. Much has changed in the Bear Knight's absence. The land has rotted, the king is mad, and evil taints the hearts of once gracious knights. This is not the home remembered by the slender squire girl setting off on her first adventure. Much has changed on the journey too. No longer do you see a tall, lanky willow-branch of a girl drowning in her tangled bearskin cloak. Now there stands before you a giant of a warrior with lance and axe and armour and the scars where armour fails. She has lost her skittish English mare, replaced with a huge and cold-blooded draft horse. She has lost her nervous stutter and wide-eyed curiosity, replaced with an austere economy of word and deed. She has lost the lady she was sworn to serve, and all of her brash and unseemly influences - replaced with a heartache and powerful sense of purpose. Her coin purse is empty, her traveling companions are lost, and too many innocences have been left behind. Many of these things you will know. Songs speed ahead of her and her constant delays, for never has she let a bandit or beast or blackguard pass her by. It has been a long road home, the kind of tale that makes girls dream of the Holy Land and the legend the journey will make of them. But even still she does not have the manner of one who has returned home. There is still more to do. My household and lands are in disarray. Once I held a place of honour in the household of Lady Alitel Sandsfern. As a squire chosen from the common folk for strength and courage, I was to serve as knight and bodyguard to the young countess. Once these lands had great orchards, meadows and pastures, forests and timber, enormous wealth and a fortified citadel overlooking a fast-flowing river. Now the tower is a scorched ruin, stone melted and fused, the woods are wild and overgrown, and the population has fled. My arms and armour befit a questing knight. Helm, mail, lance, and great woodsman's axe - all as befit my rank, all worn from use. A bow and arrow are fitted for hunting small game, and come with a hunter's patience. A jeweled dagger is all that indicates I ever sat close to wealth, though it has since tasted both bread and blood. My bearskin cloak covers me, and to this day more than a dozen daggers and arrows are stuck within its tangled thickness. My warhorse moves with a ponderousness that has once seen a priest attempt to exorcise from him the demon of sloth - though watch your apples closely for he can strike like an adder when properly motivated. My heraldry was once forest green and ivory white in checker patterns, though the road has rendered them black-grey and weathered cream. My crest is that of a great Irish-haired bear. I wear a tabard and a pale space on my index finger where a ring was once exchanged for coin. In one of my many packs I carry two formal dresses; one in the style of the Byzantines, and a much less modest one in the style of the Persians. I wear raking scars across my face, shoulders and chest from some ferocious animal. My left hand's scars suggest burns. No scars mark my back. My countenance is shaped by the wilderness. Stone green eyes soften and heavy hands become gentle as they watch the wind and reach for a flute that they might sing to it in turn. On the soft grass of the hills, in the shadow of ancient trees, wild hair flowing with the breeze, I seem to fit in the world perfectly. Such harmony is difficult to find in the world of men. There I must duck my head when going through doorways, I must sacrifice many good combs to bring my raven hair to terms, I must bow far more deeply than my peers to bring my head lower than my sovereign, and I must remember that things are perhaps more fragile than I would like them to be. My name is Robena Coilleghille, though once (and perhaps still) I dreamed of taking another's. Bold +1 Good 0 Strong +2 Wary +1 Weird -1 With my full panoply of battle, I have 4 harm and 4 armour. I have the right to be known by reputation. When I meet someone who should know of me, roll +Strong. On a 10+ they have heard of me, and I declare what they have heard. On a 7-9, they know simply to admire or fear me. On a 6-, I yet again curse the name of the bard Yomdaeler who decided to use my name to revitalize her failing career. I have the right to own an enchanted item. The monstrous, scarred questing-bear I fought had a hide that could not be pierced by any weapon - I slew it unarmed. Its fur now provides +1 armour and immunity to any surprise attacks. In single combat, I have the right to spend 1 more than my roll would allow. No mysterious skill empowers me; I am simply larger and stronger than the majority of those I encounter. I have the right to own a trained warhorse and own a kite shield. My current horse is named Apricot. I wish I had the good sense to take some apricot seeds back to England with me. Fool. I will live to be one hundred. Experiences:</s> <\|message\|>Tristan Kuwabatake-Fletcher Tristan nods. "That makes sense. My fear is that if we meet it before we understand the problem, it will not let us observe it, ending in bloodshed. I had thought - if it is a place it cannot go back to, it is a place we cannot find by following it. We could look for where it cannot be, but could have been? Perhaps where a new mineshaft has been cut? Or a dam has formed in an inconvenient place?" To observe without being observed is an unforgiving art: A thousand rights are undone by a single wrong. Tristan's more hesitant about that single point of failure than he is about the thing itself.</s> <\|message\|>Robena Coilleghille A cross of gold. Robena's mind turns a darker way. A lot of crosses of gold in the guts of the dragon-boats - if not atop the hoards of dragons proper. It hung from her neck like a stone and she wondered why Xristos' blood could not be caught with the wooden cup of a carpenter than the jewels and ornaments that accumulated too easily in the hands of priests. The sin of striking a holy woman was deep enough that it seemed uncharitable to tempt wayward hands into it with wealth. A melancholy cloud passes over her even as Summer is welcomed unto the earth. Perhaps this is a land where such things are unthinkable and all the knights are true. A scent on the breeze like rotting flesh tells her this is not so. "Mm," she demurs to the priestess' question. A strange one. Who wouldn't know Constance river-blessed? Who did this priestess take her for? This question indicated that she knew Robena not at all, and yet asked this stranger about her relation to another. To what end? She opted to answer with an enigma in turn. "And you know the Azure Knight?"</s> <\|message\|>Kenina "Nin" Haig "Until we know where it is, there is always a chance we'll run into it by pure chance before we're ready, or that it will find us before we find it, no matter where we go or what we do," Nin says. "That's why it's best to start by finding where it is; only then can you avoid running into it by accident. If you're worried about bloodshed, should it catch wind of us or should we fall right on top of it by accident, we can always retreat rather than fight." "And even if it is as you suspect, that it can't go back to where it came from, that don't mean we can't follow the trail it left back to its source. Or at least it will help us narrow our search."</s> <\|message\|>High King Uther Pendragon Nin and Tristan This is Nin's truest specialty: Striking out on the road for a journey. She possesses many options for finding her way, both by mundane roads and the smallest trail and by the more spiritual. Tristan, you are most empowered to learn when you encounter the beast, but Nin will get you where you're going and though there is time aplenty on the road to plan, it is time now to strike out. Talk as much as you wish, and when you're ready, Nin tell us how you find whatever of the beast you're seeking. I don't know precisely where it will be until you tell me how you find it, but I can tell you that it will be in the fields, with their tall golden wheat that still grows strong and proud. Even if the land is dryer and the seeds smaller than in past years, even if the treeline looms darkly not far away, the place where you find it somehow or other will be in the fields, in the tall grasses, the open sky and small clouds high and away above you. But that is all I know for now. Robena The priestess Cerwen turns to you with some hesitation. She clearly does not wish to talk about the Azure knight. "I know of her" she says slowly, selecting the words for that sentence with caution as Constance begins the proper ritual. "I would not fain speak of it to her opponent though" she adds hastily, obviously searching for some reason to avoid this discussion. "Surely, you wish a fair and honorable contest and ought to ask her yourself of her background when you meet her? Though if you are afraid that she is now in the service of the Duchess, you need not worry there. The Azure knight is a knight-errant and will not be here long after the tournament, I should think. Would you wish my favor for your match, God is a regal ally." She laughs nervously, confident that she's thrown you off the trail and changes the subject immediately. "Perhaps you ought ask the Lady of the Low if she might make my temporary gift more permanent. It was a present from the Duchess for my service and of no small value." She seems shockingly confident in her position to discuss the Duchess that way. Careful for her part, but utterly confident here, and therefore it's all the more strange that she doesn't want to discuss the Azure knight. You know enough about tournament rules that unless much has changed since you were gone, there's nothing wrong with asking about your opponent as long as you're not trying to gain an advantage on them. Perhaps Cerwen does have some sort of insider knowledge that she's afraid to reveal though. You might seek to win her as an ally, or accept what she offers as it stands, or reject her for misunderstanding you perhaps. No matter what you choose, tell us after of your tournament preparations, and Apricot's regalia for the competition. Constance Let me tell you what you do not feel. You do not feel the world turn wrong ways around and hurl you from it. You do not feel the earth crack and shudder in rage. You do not feel angry clouds gather to block the sun nor hear the cries of birds forced from their perches in fright. You have not done wrong and the world has not rebuked your efforts. As to whether you have done right, you can judge from the shining eyes and sticky hands of the children, who are alive and as well as can be here today, and the pile of gifts that Robena is going to have to set somewhere so she can go and be in a tournament and win glory for her Lady Marianne. Tell us why you nevertheless feel discontent and what remains on your mind for the afternoon. Will you watch the tournament?</s>	<\|message\|>Robena Coilleghille There is certainly something amiss with this priestess, Robena decides. She hasn't been insulted before in such a strange way. The priestess has implied that she was dishonourable for even asking after her opponent before a match! She then advised her to beg Constance for use of one of her sacrifices as though she was powerless to intercede with Xristos without it. And in the same breath to speak in such a mercenary way about its value! She narrows her eyes askance at the woman, wondering if she is perhaps a faerie impersonating a priestess for some arcane trick. More likely she is merely dealing with a chatterbox with very strange opinions. "I already possess a crucifix, mater," said Robena steadily. "Moreover one that was cast in the Kingdom of Jerusalem, as I am newly returned from the holy land. That should be sufficient for the new ways, but for the old I intend to ask Constance for a favour to bear into battle. You need not feel bound to these, ah, new customs of knightly secrecy when it comes to either of these facts." And that indeed is the first matter of tournament preparation - to go down on bended knee before Lady Constance and request from her a favour for the tournament and offer to fight in her name. It would be a poor knight indeed who took to the lists without a maiden's kerchief to protect her. Robena herself has sat out a handful of tournaments when she could find no lady willing to sponsor her before the bouts. Some kingdoms consider her caution mere superstition, but she has not fallen from the saddle yet. Apricot's regalia and her colours, however, are as faded from dust and rain as they have ever been. Robena has done what she could to polish her armour but she lacks coin and squire both, and so will have to ride dressed in the weathered and faded colours that unite all knights of the road.</s>
<\|description\|>Robena Coilleghille The War Champion, returned pilgrim from distant Jerusalem Accomplished Held in honor and acclaim Never forgetful of my mortality. Dark forests breed strong knights. Much has changed in the Bear Knight's absence. The land has rotted, the king is mad, and evil taints the hearts of once gracious knights. This is not the home remembered by the slender squire girl setting off on her first adventure. Much has changed on the journey too. No longer do you see a tall, lanky willow-branch of a girl drowning in her tangled bearskin cloak. Now there stands before you a giant of a warrior with lance and axe and armour and the scars where armour fails. She has lost her skittish English mare, replaced with a huge and cold-blooded draft horse. She has lost her nervous stutter and wide-eyed curiosity, replaced with an austere economy of word and deed. She has lost the lady she was sworn to serve, and all of her brash and unseemly influences - replaced with a heartache and powerful sense of purpose. Her coin purse is empty, her traveling companions are lost, and too many innocences have been left behind. Many of these things you will know. Songs speed ahead of her and her constant delays, for never has she let a bandit or beast or blackguard pass her by. It has been a long road home, the kind of tale that makes girls dream of the Holy Land and the legend the journey will make of them. But even still she does not have the manner of one who has returned home. There is still more to do. My household and lands are in disarray. Once I held a place of honour in the household of Lady Alitel Sandsfern. As a squire chosen from the common folk for strength and courage, I was to serve as knight and bodyguard to the young countess. Once these lands had great orchards, meadows and pastures, forests and timber, enormous wealth and a fortified citadel overlooking a fast-flowing river. Now the tower is a scorched ruin, stone melted and fused, the woods are wild and overgrown, and the population has fled. My arms and armour befit a questing knight. Helm, mail, lance, and great woodsman's axe - all as befit my rank, all worn from use. A bow and arrow are fitted for hunting small game, and come with a hunter's patience. A jeweled dagger is all that indicates I ever sat close to wealth, though it has since tasted both bread and blood. My bearskin cloak covers me, and to this day more than a dozen daggers and arrows are stuck within its tangled thickness. My warhorse moves with a ponderousness that has once seen a priest attempt to exorcise from him the demon of sloth - though watch your apples closely for he can strike like an adder when properly motivated. My heraldry was once forest green and ivory white in checker patterns, though the road has rendered them black-grey and weathered cream. My crest is that of a great Irish-haired bear. I wear a tabard and a pale space on my index finger where a ring was once exchanged for coin. In one of my many packs I carry two formal dresses; one in the style of the Byzantines, and a much less modest one in the style of the Persians. I wear raking scars across my face, shoulders and chest from some ferocious animal. My left hand's scars suggest burns. No scars mark my back. My countenance is shaped by the wilderness. Stone green eyes soften and heavy hands become gentle as they watch the wind and reach for a flute that they might sing to it in turn. On the soft grass of the hills, in the shadow of ancient trees, wild hair flowing with the breeze, I seem to fit in the world perfectly. Such harmony is difficult to find in the world of men. There I must duck my head when going through doorways, I must sacrifice many good combs to bring my raven hair to terms, I must bow far more deeply than my peers to bring my head lower than my sovereign, and I must remember that things are perhaps more fragile than I would like them to be. My name is Robena Coilleghille, though once (and perhaps still) I dreamed of taking another's. Bold +1 Good 0 Strong +2 Wary +1 Weird -1 With my full panoply of battle, I have 4 harm and 4 armour. I have the right to be known by reputation. When I meet someone who should know of me, roll +Strong. On a 10+ they have heard of me, and I declare what they have heard. On a 7-9, they know simply to admire or fear me. On a 6-, I yet again curse the name of the bard Yomdaeler who decided to use my name to revitalize her failing career. I have the right to own an enchanted item. The monstrous, scarred questing-bear I fought had a hide that could not be pierced by any weapon - I slew it unarmed. Its fur now provides +1 armour and immunity to any surprise attacks. In single combat, I have the right to spend 1 more than my roll would allow. No mysterious skill empowers me; I am simply larger and stronger than the majority of those I encounter. I have the right to own a trained warhorse and own a kite shield. My current horse is named Apricot. I wish I had the good sense to take some apricot seeds back to England with me. Fool. I will live to be one hundred. Experiences:</s> <\|message\|>Robena Coilleghille In the ancient stories, was He not offered the same choice? To leave the world of pain and vice and betrayal and heed the call of blood? To escape the X and the days spent in agony as each drop fell from His heart into the waiting chalice? Compared to that suffering a swift blow to the neck seemed a mercy, but still her heart recoiled from the inevitability of it the moment she saw there was another path. A hungry light filled her eyes, and she took Constance by the hand. Her blood, so hot, so base, so human spoke to her as it did to Him. Her heart pounded and the passion seemed like it would overwhelm her as it had so many times before. And then, at last, she understood. "I crave life," she said. "I crave it as I crave drink. I crave it as I crave battle. I crave it as I crave glory and praise and riches. I thought that my vices were individual things, a collection, an array of seven. I thought that because I could stand tall upon the field I was not a coward but the rage and battle lust felt to me then the exact same way as I felt when I craved your offer, the same feeling of passion that had me strike down the cursed King." For a moment the grip of her fingers was so hard, so trembling. She thought of battling the demons of her horse, and though the demons were no longer garbed in a tonne of muscle they were far more fearsome for all of it. "It is all one vice, Constance. One craving. My flesh hungers and my spirit is silent, and so hunger is my master. If I take your offer, unreconstructed, I shall become a faerie indeed but one from the worst of stories. Craving made immortal, grasping hands in an eternal garden, thief of children, shameless and free. I am not a flawed knight; true, but for one damnable mistake. I am a dragon caged in flesh no less than Lady Sandsfern, and the devil at the crossroads revealed the end of that path as a lesson to me. And here I stand upon a second crossroads, and this time the question of wishes is put to me alone." Her hand slipped away from Constance's as easily as air, when a moment before it had been holding with the terrified and terrifying strength of a fearful giant. "In that world you would be a maiden trapped in the talons of a dragon. Though you did not answer my question, you did so by omission: in that world you would not be happy. So I tell you, faerie-devil, Constance, one who I love too much to crave, I tell you of the one wish I do have: That you somehow find happiness." She looked away into a light, gleaming and distance. "Whatever that happiness is, I shall fight for it. I shall slay dragons for it, even if the dragon I must slay is within myself. A knight can do no less."</s> <\|message\|>Tristan Kuwabatake-Fletcher Sir Hector's grievance splits him down the middle as sure as an axe; At once, he does not understand not taking pride and pleasure in all the good you can do. On the other, he cannot imagine how it must feel to be stopped from doing the good that you are capable of. What was he here to do? He had been here to play his part in someone else's legacy. In this, he and Hector were the same. Where they differed is that Tristan holds no resentment for a lesser part. Doesn't he? He looks inside himself and, no, finds only contentment there. "You speak as though already dead, Sir Hector." Tristan teases, smiling. "As if you have been robbed of the only part you could ever play. But you have lost only a chance - not the skills, the training, or the will. What if there is another? If someone stumbles, who else stands ready to replace them?" Not empty words. How much of this was Tristan expecting to deal with, when he agreed to fight alongside Robena and Sandsfern that night? So sure he knew the real interpretation of a second-hand prophecy about the Questing Beast? "I don't really know what to do now." Tristan admits. "But we live in interesting times. I couldn't have predicted any of this, a year ago. What sense is there predicting a year hence? Or five, or ten?" And, again, the most sincere and reassuring smile he is capable of, because it is how he really feels. "You're ready to answer when you are called, no matter how great the call. How much better that, than to be called before you are ready?" Ask Tristan if he feels like he is ready to answer when he is called, and for the first time he might say 'yes'. He feels prepared, now, in a way that another thousand-thousand archery drills would have left him wanting. He had only ever thought about needing the skills to prepare him for anything - thinking exclusively in terms of what he lacked. Sir Hector asks him instead to ask; What task is worthy of his skills? It's the first time he has been forced to consider what he is ready for, and not just what he isn't. It's... a pleasant change of perspective. He hopes things are going well with Constance, despite having no idea what that could even mean.</s> <\|message\|>Lostwithiel Castle All It is, as it always is, the unlikeliest chance that things should be as they are. That you should be here. That Hector should have smiled at Tristan and held onto a ray of hope of things never done. That Constance may have smiled in a secret night too dark by her direction for anyone to see it. That Robena may have gone to bed and perhaps, just perhaps, smiled when she reflected on her own choice. The final day of hunts does not greet you merrily, but with a growl. Sleet-thick winds strike at the castle stones and batter the windows. The clouds are gray and menacing, the sun a distant glow behind them, little more than a hint that it exists. The trees creek and crack, the snow crackles, and there is no sign of life or movement, though the scouts nevertheless went out before danw to find the boar trail. And yet...the full downpour holds itself in abeyance. Or is held, perhaps? Who could say what confluence of powers is at war in the heavens, after all? Robena You are met at dawn, such as it is, by Sir Hector. Though she has been loathe to speak with you to date, she stands before your room politely while you ready yourself. She already wears her own hunting gear: a long fur cape over her armor, a greatbow slung over her back and a great boar-spear with its high hilt held in one hand. She has prepared a sharpened boar spear for your use as well, held cautiously away from you in her other hand. For today is the boar hunt. The boar stands as the symbol of endurance and ferocious power. It has always been the pinnacle of the hunt. Not cunning or villainous, not fast, never lithe. But powerful, dangerous, and fighting to the last. The spear that Hector presents you is unadorned, but of the highest quality, with a good firm grip wrapped in leather and a point that does not show a single flaw upon it. This is a fine compliment, and one that you would not know what you have done to deserve. It is, after all, a favor to Tristan, not to you. How do you ready yourself for the final hunt on this harsh day? Constance, Tristan You are permitted, if you wish it, to sleep in. The castle is focused on Robena's last hunt, and for the early morning there is nothing else to be done. It is dark, gray, and entirely unlike a day anyone would wish to rise to meet. But you can wake, if you wish, and bathe or chat. Or you can wait, and go to see the lady Sauvage when she calls upon you mid-morning. She will not be joining the hunt at all this day, not even from a distance, and wishes instead to see you. This is a fell thing, for she has doffed most of her humanity on this last day. Her dress is a somber blueish gray, and her skin has faded to match. Her mouth is pursed, and her hands look almost as stone perched on the gilded sides of her throne. Her doom and with it the last remnants of her existence, is coming to an end. Perhaps the weather is a reflection of her mood. Or one that combats her? Regardless, she turns with the barest of motions, not to Constance, but to Tristan first. "Most unexpected" she says, her face nearly still save for her lips blue with cold. "What...do you think of the knights I have gathered here?" Is that, perhaps, the smallest of smiles at the edge of her lips? What an unlikely chance.</s>	<\|message\|>Robena Coilleghille On the dawn of this, the final day of her life? She does not know enough latin to talk to god. She has no friends who could keep up through days of drink. None of her kisses have lingered. No liege lord will regret her passage, no small folk will feel her loss. She has passed through the world like a passing storm and now she's to fly away into Okeanos and vanish forever. She's not complex enough to be a true person, she decides. A true person has roots. Friends, connections, community. A stability in hearth and heart, loves that take years to build and don't flash out like a thunderbolt from clear air. She's more like an animal, an illiterate bear knight who has lived her whole life in moments. And so she has resolved to spend this final morning with those she understands. She spends it with the dogs, patting and playing and casting sticks so far even the swiftest of them cannot catch them before they hit the earth. She spends the final morning with her bastard of a horse, brushing his mane and tail and indulging his endless appetite. She spends an hour of the final morning sitting quietly and patiently enough to convince a cat to grace her with a brief sniff on the hand and brush against her legs. The kindest thing about the animals is that they can form friendships in the brief time given to a wanderer or a condemned woman. And so Robena spends her last morning with them. Perhaps she was not to be a knight for Britain, a knight for maidens, a knight for God. But perhaps she can be a knight for beasts.</s>
<\|description\|>Brennen, Pyromancer of the Charred Bog Gender: Male Race: Human Main Class: Pyromancer Alignment: Chaotic Good Size: Medium Height: 5'7" Weight: 140lbs Eyes: Amber Hair: Dirty Blonde Appearance: A short, peculiar looking man with a lean, sinewy physique resulting from decades spent living off the land, Brennen's complexion is calloused and leathery, defined by the occasional crag or wrinkle that give him a seasoned appearance, despite his age. His dark blonde hair is often left oily and unkempt, with Brennen paying little heed to its care. Similarly, his square jaw is blanketed by a coarse layer of scruff, permanently singed from near-constant exposure to fire. His bright amber eyes, however, seem to glow with the fires of youth and passion, unaffected by the passage of time. Brennen's choice in clothing is as otherworldly as his appearance suggests, consisting of weathered and travel-worn robes, shawls, and tunics, covered in burn marks, singes, and frayed ends. His clothes constantly reek of smoke and burning oil, not helped in the slightest by the vials of strange liquid that he keeps on his person at all times. Personality Description: A textbook bohemian, first and foremost obsessed with fire, Brennen's isolated and uncivilized upbringing have left him a bizarre, somewhat eccentric maverick; in tune with nature and apprehensive of towns and cities. Humble and unassuming, Brennen is generally polite, if blunt at times, showing general courtesy to everyone he meets, regardless of race or social status. Though lacking in formal education, Brennen's unique perspective on the world reveals a certain philosophical wisdom that gives way to somewhat profound observations, particularly when he is deep in thought. Well aware of the destructive potential that fire brings, Brennen has dedicated much of his life to discipline and self-restraint, rarely complaining or expressing contempt, even in the harshest conditions. But when flared, his temper is like the fire he wields: ranging from slow-burning and scorching to violently explosive. But just as fire cleanses the old for new growth to emerge, Brennen's rage, once subsided, is gone for good. He holds no grudges or grievances, letting bygones be bygones.</s> <\|message\|>Brennen, Pyromancer of the Charred Bog The Charred Bog was an endless expanse of marshes and fetid swampland, filled with all manner of foul creatures and evil-stricken folk, banished from more civilized lands. Lords and kings have for years tried to conquer the region, with every attempt ending in failure, countless lives lost. For now, the Bog would remain unclaimed: an uncharted festering wound upon the region. But within the swamp, past winding, muddy trails and murky pools - life flickered. A ball of flame, held in the hands of a young boy with all the uncertainty of a novice. "Focus, Brennen, control your breathing. A spark will not catch without kindling to fuel it." The boy's eyes flicked toward the source of the voice: a middle-aged man standing beside him. The man was tall and slender, with sharp, pointed features, and long brown hair that fell past his shoulders. The boy - Brennen - did not reply, but did his best to follow the man's advice, taking slower, deeper breaths; all-the-while gazing intently at the fire in his hands. If the man said anything else, Brennen did not hear it, focusing all his attention on the flame he nurtured, seeing it grow stronger, more vibrant, feeding on his energy. But a child's focus does not hold long, and sure enough, Brennen's eyes were drawn to the sound of a nearby frog leaping into the water, and the flame fizzled into nothing. Brennen's initial shock quickly turned to frustration: a scowl spreading across his features as he angrily kicked at a clod of mud. The man, however, appeared unfazed, simply moving closer and clasping a hand on the youth's shoulder. "Patience, my son. The fire will return... for it is a part of you." --- Visions of Bonfire "Part of--" Brennen awoke slowly, echoing his father's words through dried and bloodied lips. Disoriented, Brennen blinked several times, trying to adjust his eyes to the light. He was not at his camp. Instinct set in, and Brennen immediately tried to rise to his feet, only to strain futilely against coils of rope that bound his hands and feet. Where was he? Who had done this to him? Brennen's second question was almost immediately answered as a small, wretched-looking creature came into view, grasping a spear nearly as tall as it was. Goblins. Brennen had seen small groups of them skulking near his base camp: no more than two or three at any given time. A quick flash of steel or conjuration of fire was often all it took to get them to scatter. But as a sharp throbbing in Brennen's head began to settle, he realized they must have taken him in his sleep. More goblins began to appear, surrounding an admittedly-impressive bonfire in the center of their clearing. They chanted, screeched, and bickered amongst themselves in their coarse language, unknown to Brennen's ears. Now fully awake, his eyes darted all about, looking for sign of his possessions, or anything nearby he could try to use to free himself. Unwittingly, the goblins had figured out Brennen's perfect weakness. His restricted movement made it near-impossible for him to channel flame. The best he'd be able to manage was a small spark, barely worth any note. But right now, a spark may be what he needed. Thinking back to his earliest lessons: the basic foundations of Pyromancy, Brennen cleared his head, taking deep breaths, and focusing on them. With time, patience, and perhaps a fair bit of luck, he might be able to burn through his bindings...</s> <\|message\|>Vah'lux Ki-ao'uthal The freshly sharpened tip of the steel javelin caught a small yellow-orange ray of morning sun as the hunter nestled between a pair of tall, hollowed-out tree trucks. The sunlight hadn't quite reached the entirety of the vast landscape, and the massive trees of the forest gave just enough shadowy cover to keep the Goliath hidden from all but the most keen of vision. It was time to hunt, and this part of the region of Faerun was known for its wild boar, elk, and various vegetation, unspoiled by the age of industry as the wilderness itself continued to thrive. The large frame of the tribe-woman stood as still and silent as was possible, and a muscular arm held the short, spear-like weapon at the ready, awaiting the small boar to make its way into the kill zone. Vah'lux learned much about patience when it came to the hunt, taking what she had been taught all those many years ago and building upon it, especially as a lone hunter. Too long had she been separated from her people. Too long had she dwelled in lands not her own. But if there was anything that could be said of the great race of pseudo-giants that hailed from the mountainous Northern reaches of Faerun, it was their survivalistic instinct. But, until she is one again reunited with her great tribe, surviving in the unknown regions is her only recourse. Her emerald eyes darted to movement several meters ahead, and her hand gripped the javelin as she knew this would have to be the creature she'd tracked earlier. The wild boar were quite large in this part, one which could provide food for at least a few days, or even a week if rationed out properly. However, a Goliath's metabolism is quite extraordinary at times, that such a beast may only be sufficient for a day or two. Either way, Vah'lux was hungry as her stomach enjoyed reminding her throughout the early morning hours. There it was, the boar! And with her weapon at the ready, Vah'lux was just about to thrust her arm forward and release the steel javelin so it may fly through the air, fast and true, toward it's target. But wait. What is this? Someone or something had spooked the animal enough for it to flee for its life, and Vah'lux, irritated by the sudden interruption, allowed a frustrated sigh to escape through her lips and nostrils. This wasn't right. This was supposed to be her kill, not that of another. But, as it turned out, the short strangers paid no heed to the boar as they marched through the dense trees up ahead, with makeshift spears, wooden shields, crude swords, and a nasty disposition backed by distinct snarling and bickering that reminded the Goliath of a particularly sly and disgusting creature. "Goblins." She muttered under her breath, stepping back behind the old tree trunks to be fully engulfed by their shadows, while maintaining a clear visual on the band of mischief-makers as they continued their trek past her hunting spot and toward the south. Vah'lux had seen a few smaller groups of Goblins over the past week, gathering in various spots along her travels, and the few times they spotted her, their first instinct was to steer clear of the "giant woman", which most likely kept them alive a day longer. But the Goliath let them pass. She had no quarrel with them, nor did she intend to start one. She herself was enough of a stranger in a strange land, and at the moment, food was about the only thing on her mind.</s>	<\|message\|>Brennen, Pyromancer of the Charred Bog "Huuch! Daagaan an or huuch!?" Harsh, guttural words escaped the lip-less mouths of one of the creatures, larger and uglier than the others. With a shortsword that appeared to be little more than a jagged shard of obsidian tied to a makeshift hilt, the Goblin swung the blade about with as much refinement as a butcher with a cleaver. "Hegaan an huuch!" The Goblin spat, now pressing the sword's tip against Brennen's neck. His head tilted back as far as it could go, Brennen's lips twitched in fearful anticipation, ragged breaths leaving his chest. With only the slightest amount of pressure, the blade began to cut into his flesh, blood already starting to trickle from the wound. "I don't...know...what...you're asking me." Brennen plead in his defense, wincing as the sword dug slightly deeper, drawing more blood down his neck. "Hegaan huuch! Or o dhuul..." Brennen could've sworn the Goblin's rasping voice took a sinister edge, but had little time to focus as the Goblin's blade began to move, opening fresh cuts along his neck, only just skin-deep. Eyes slamming shut, Renault breathed in sharply as the stinging sensation followed the blade's trail. The spark he had been coaxing in his bound hands flared to life, unleashing a gout of flame that assailed one of the nearby trees. In only a few seconds, the familiar stench of smoke began to fill the air; as leaves and bark began to pop and smoke, fresh tongues of fire forming along the trunk. Taken by surprise, the Goblin quickly withdrew the obsidian blade, barking commands to the other wretches, who scrambled frantically to try and put the fire out.</s>
<\|description\|>Brennen, Pyromancer of the Charred Bog Gender: Male Race: Human Main Class: Pyromancer Alignment: Chaotic Good Size: Medium Height: 5'7" Weight: 140lbs Eyes: Amber Hair: Dirty Blonde Appearance: A short, peculiar looking man with a lean, sinewy physique resulting from decades spent living off the land, Brennen's complexion is calloused and leathery, defined by the occasional crag or wrinkle that give him a seasoned appearance, despite his age. His dark blonde hair is often left oily and unkempt, with Brennen paying little heed to its care. Similarly, his square jaw is blanketed by a coarse layer of scruff, permanently singed from near-constant exposure to fire. His bright amber eyes, however, seem to glow with the fires of youth and passion, unaffected by the passage of time. Brennen's choice in clothing is as otherworldly as his appearance suggests, consisting of weathered and travel-worn robes, shawls, and tunics, covered in burn marks, singes, and frayed ends. His clothes constantly reek of smoke and burning oil, not helped in the slightest by the vials of strange liquid that he keeps on his person at all times. Personality Description: A textbook bohemian, first and foremost obsessed with fire, Brennen's isolated and uncivilized upbringing have left him a bizarre, somewhat eccentric maverick; in tune with nature and apprehensive of towns and cities. Humble and unassuming, Brennen is generally polite, if blunt at times, showing general courtesy to everyone he meets, regardless of race or social status. Though lacking in formal education, Brennen's unique perspective on the world reveals a certain philosophical wisdom that gives way to somewhat profound observations, particularly when he is deep in thought. Well aware of the destructive potential that fire brings, Brennen has dedicated much of his life to discipline and self-restraint, rarely complaining or expressing contempt, even in the harshest conditions. But when flared, his temper is like the fire he wields: ranging from slow-burning and scorching to violently explosive. But just as fire cleanses the old for new growth to emerge, Brennen's rage, once subsided, is gone for good. He holds no grudges or grievances, letting bygones be bygones.</s> <\|message\|>Brennen, Pyromancer of the Charred Bog His bindings cut, Brennen released a breath he did not realize he was holding, hands immediately shooting for the burning wound at his neck that stained his skin red. "Many thanks." He bid politely, offering a crooked-toothed smile at his would-be rescuer. His eyes met hers, noting their brightness. All Pyromancers in the Bog had eyes like his, remnants of Valaista's kiss. Brennen had to wonder what the significance of this woman's emerald orbs were... Averting his gaze for a moment, Brennen turned to see the result of her handiwork: the Goblin's lifeless corpse quite literally dangling from the javelin that impaled him to the nearby tree. Had Brennen not known better, he'd have thought this the work of some siege engine, not the strength of one's arm. As the woman asked to his condition, Brennen pulled the hand away from his neck, the blood coating his open palm assuring him that his wound was not superficial. "Nothing serious." He answered, clenching blackened fingers into a fist. "Though Goblins are not known for their...hospitality." There was a pause, a gap in Brennen's words as he saw the assortment of Goblins that realized what was taking place, and surrounded the two, waving weapons and shields in anticipation. Brennen was their prize - and they had no intention of releasing him. "Can you fight? By Kavaki, I certainly hope you can." The woman rose to her feet, and Brennen could not mask a look of surprise as she more than towered over him; his eye-level barely reaching her toned stomach. This only confirmed his suspicions...Whoever this woman was, she was not Human. Choosing to save such questions for later, Brennen took the axe she offered, and it promptly dropped in his grip; only an exertion of strength keeping the head from landing in the dirt at all. Of course the Goblins had disarmed him - likely pilfering through his possessions while they were at it. Until he could find his gear, this would have to do. In proud display, the woman unhooked the massive glaive secured to her back, swinging it with dexterous motion that only came after years of training and familiarity. Moving his right hand closer to the iron head of the axe to keep a better grip on the weapon, Brennen released his left, and - drawing on the adrenaline that now flowed through his body - wordlessly conjured a glowing ball of fire that hovered just above his palm, crackling and lapping hungrily at the air. With a quick glance at the woman's direction, hoping she would move as he did, Brennen let out a quick cry, pulling his arm back before throwing it forward, hurtling the fireball towards the nearest goblin. With only seconds to react, the Goblin cried out in fear as the orb crashed into its face, sending the creature sprawling to the ground screeching in shock and agony.</s> <\|message\|>Vah'lux Ki-ao'uthal ○ ○ ۝ ○ ○ Mages. Conjurors. Wizards. Sorcerers. Spellcasters. No matter what they referred to themselves as, or what others perceived them to be, only one word came to the Goliath's mind: Trouble-makers. Growing up in a culture where magic and mysticism seemed to be two separate entities, the magic aspect of Faerun was all but lost on many of her kind, and therefore mistrusted and seen as the work of darker spirits. On more than one occasion, Vah'lux herself witnessed such chaotic usage of spells and witchcraft, even a few of her tribe-mates dfelving in such things only to meet a terrible and agonizing end. Some losing their minds, others, being quite literally consumed by spells that were meant to defend, but backfired instead. The bottom line was that magic was not to be trusted until otherwise proven different. And as the Goliath stood nearby only to see a spark form into a large ball of fire within the palm of the human's hand, she all but leapt backwards a few meters, caught off guard by the cunning of yet another mage. With glaive at the ready, she watched as the fiery weapon was thrust forward and immediately hit the Goblin assailant nearest to them both. Vah'lux had to quickly remind herself that things were already set in motion, and it would do her no good to allow such prejudices to cloud her focus. At least not at that moment. Two Goblins flanked the Goliath, one wielding a shortsword of crude iron, and the other a wooden pike fashioned with a rusty spearhead, and seemingly felt as though they were making a poor choice but at the very last moment. Vah'lux shifted her foot and positioned herself to face the attackers, swinging the massive glaive in a forward arc, first slicing through the torso of the sword-wielder, and knocking the other to the ground, before allowing the momentum of the weapon to guide her next action. Vah'lux quickly pivoted slightly, spinning the shaft of the glaive so the tail-end pointed down at the prone Goblin, and with a great force, impaled the creature through the face with the pointed steel tip. It's lithe frame squirming under the initial pain, followed by muscle spasms, until no movement was left. The other, sliced halfway through it's torso, bled out into the soil beneath. The Goliath spat toward the corpses, hating the fact that their decomposition would soon contaminate an otherwise beautiful area. The Goliath pulled the bloodied glaive from the ground and turned to spot two others nearby who seemingly were ready to defend whatever they had left...</s>	<\|message\|>Brennen, Pyromancer of the Charred Bog There were few true warriors to be found in the Charred Bog. Their lack of contact with the outside world removed the necessity for it. Indeed, no knights or armor-clad soldiers could be counted amongst their numbers. They were pillagers, scavengers, finding what weapons and bits of metal they could from the swamp, itself. Centuries worth of failed campaigns and ill-fated adventures. The Pyromancers used their home to their advantage; favoring skirmishes and short-lived, decisive battles over drawn-out conflicts. To say that Brennen was out of his element in the middle of enemy territory surrounded by angry, bloodthirsty Goblins would have been a gross understatement. But to his incredibly tall rescuer, it was almost a dance. She swung her blade with deadly precision, and Brennen could not help but notice the nearly dance-like rhythm of her muscles beneath slate-colored skin. For such a large, unwieldy-looking weapon, she wielded it as though it were weightless. For comparison, Brennen held the smaller axe she gave him with the clumsiness of unfamiliarity. His own axe was far smaller than this; little more than a hatchet, all things considered. But this weapon, suited for one closer to his rescuer's size, forced him to adapt his stance. Of the two Goblins that presently remained, one, at least, had the forethought not to end up like his burning companion, and charged at Brennen with a cry that radiated pure malice. Seeing this, Brennen took a step back, a brief flash of surprise spreading across his features before settling into stoic concentration. Loosening his grip on the axe ever so slightly, he felt the polished wood handle slide down his hand, waiting until he nearly reached the butt of it. Tightening his hold as the Goblin came ever-closer, Brennen threw all his weight into an upward swing, using his momentum to add strength to the strike that he could not have otherwise. The blade caught the Goblin by head, cleaving into mottled flesh and rotten bone before sending the creature's mutilated corpse back and onto the blood-stained grass. The last Goblin remained, betraying in its cruel countenance, a fearful uncertainty of what it wanted to do next. Run close and face an axe? Or keep distance and confront the woman's glaive. Still hearing the anguished moans of his still-smoking companion, the Goblin was smart enough to realize two words that every race could trace back to at some point or another: Fire dangerous.</s>
<\|description\|>Brennen, Pyromancer of the Charred Bog Gender: Male Race: Human Main Class: Pyromancer Alignment: Chaotic Good Size: Medium Height: 5'7" Weight: 140lbs Eyes: Amber Hair: Dirty Blonde Appearance: A short, peculiar looking man with a lean, sinewy physique resulting from decades spent living off the land, Brennen's complexion is calloused and leathery, defined by the occasional crag or wrinkle that give him a seasoned appearance, despite his age. His dark blonde hair is often left oily and unkempt, with Brennen paying little heed to its care. Similarly, his square jaw is blanketed by a coarse layer of scruff, permanently singed from near-constant exposure to fire. His bright amber eyes, however, seem to glow with the fires of youth and passion, unaffected by the passage of time. Brennen's choice in clothing is as otherworldly as his appearance suggests, consisting of weathered and travel-worn robes, shawls, and tunics, covered in burn marks, singes, and frayed ends. His clothes constantly reek of smoke and burning oil, not helped in the slightest by the vials of strange liquid that he keeps on his person at all times. Personality Description: A textbook bohemian, first and foremost obsessed with fire, Brennen's isolated and uncivilized upbringing have left him a bizarre, somewhat eccentric maverick; in tune with nature and apprehensive of towns and cities. Humble and unassuming, Brennen is generally polite, if blunt at times, showing general courtesy to everyone he meets, regardless of race or social status. Though lacking in formal education, Brennen's unique perspective on the world reveals a certain philosophical wisdom that gives way to somewhat profound observations, particularly when he is deep in thought. Well aware of the destructive potential that fire brings, Brennen has dedicated much of his life to discipline and self-restraint, rarely complaining or expressing contempt, even in the harshest conditions. But when flared, his temper is like the fire he wields: ranging from slow-burning and scorching to violently explosive. But just as fire cleanses the old for new growth to emerge, Brennen's rage, once subsided, is gone for good. He holds no grudges or grievances, letting bygones be bygones.</s> <\|message\|>Brennen, Pyromancer of the Charred Bog The battle ended, almost as quickly as it had begun, in fact. The tension in his body relaxing, Brennen's shoulders fell into a more casual posture as he looked upon their handiwork, eyes falling to each of the corpses that marked their victory. Wordlessly, he knelt near to the ground, reaching for the obsidian short sword that lay in the grass, falling from the grip of the Goblin whose remains still decorated the nearby tree. Holding it to the morning light to examine its craftsmanship, the blade looked equal parts crude and beautiful to Brennen. Given the poor quality weapons possessed by the majority of Goblins, anything more polished than a rusted dagger would have likely been a sign of strength and status. For a moment, Brennen held the blade properly by the hilt. It was too light and clumsy, made for hands much smaller than his - and certainly much smaller than that of his rescuer's. He turned to see the woman surveying the camp, with a look that befit a hunter upon the horizon. "I assume this was your place?" She said to him after a deep sigh escaped her lungs. "No, actually." Brennen answered, ending his first sentence with an uncertainty that indicated he was not done speaking. He looked down at the obsidian blade still in his hands, debating its usefulness, then letting it fall to the wet grass without another thought. "No, they must have dragged me here; looking for loot and a meal, most likely." Brennen continued, a look of concern briefly flashing over his hood-obscured features at the thought of being cooked and...eaten by those creatures; which would have undoubtedly been his fate had this woman not come along when she did. "I just--" he hung on the word for a second, eyes narrowed as he looked for something. "Need to see where they put my things..." With that, he moved towards the center of the camp, closer to the bonfire that still burned, though was hungering for kindling that was not there. As he walked by, Brennen absentmindedly stretched out a hand into the fire, his fingers curling as tongues of the flame lapped out towards him, as though trying to ensnare him before releasing their hold - unharmed. Heading towards one of several crudely-constructed tents - the largest, in fact - Brennen stooped low enough to cross the flap-covered threshold, the sound of clattering and items moving about undoubtedly reaching the woman's ears, followed by a sudden "Aha!" As Brennen assuredly discovered something he was looking for. A few moments after, Brennen emerged from the tent, holding a rustic, weathered knapsack in his hands, made of coarse leather and holding several empty vials on the outside. Opening the sack, Brennen scoured its contents, making a mental checklist to ensure each and every one of his items were still accounted. He procured a chipped and worn hand axe, the tool fitting into his grip with a familiarity and ease that more than signified that this was his weapon of choice. Returning the axe to a notch at Brennen's belt. Briefly heading back into the tent, Brennen emerged lastly with a shield...if it could even be called that. The slab of planks with an iron boss in the center looked hardly fitting for a Goblin, let alone a proper Human, but Brennen seemed not to care. With his gear now back with him, Brennen returned to the woman, looking all the more pleased. "Ahh, good to know they didn't destroy everything. Though I think a few of them may have drunk my potions...Hm." Pausing on that note, Brennen looked up to face his rescuer, holding out the axe she had given him with slight difficulty. "I never properly thanked you, I'd have assuredly been killed had you not arrived. I am most grateful." At this, Brennen gave a small, halfway bow, showing all the clumsiness of a man inexperienced with such gestures. "I am Brennen, what might your name be?"</s> <\|message\|>Vah'lux Ki-ao'uthal ○ ○ ۝ ○ ○ If anything, humans seemed to be a rather predictable lot, along with attachments to a variety of objects that could not or would not have an attachment to them. And while the Goliath admired a warrior who prized a particular weapon, for instance, the weathered mage had a few things that appeared to be near and dear to him. Things that almost seemed trivial to the other, yet what did she care? Vah'lux nodded in appreciation toward Brennen as she slid the shaft of the hand ax through metal rings that hung on a thick leather belt around her waist. Speaking of admired weapons, the woman couldn't deny the fact that she loved the ax, especially one so well-balanced and fit just right for her style of combat. She may have hailed from a race of pseudo-giants who packed on the muscle through both genetics and physical training, but make no mistake that she was far from a lumbering beast. Heavy, clumsy weapons were never her thing, but a weapon with some weight to it and one that wouldn't hinder her ability to make swift attacks and counters, was something to cherish for sure. "You handled yourself well." The Goliath said as she continued to survey the area, watching as the fires which engulfed at least one pine began to die away. "I noticed the Goblins on my own journey throughout this part of Faerun, especially this far west. I think something may have pushed their numbers this way, but unsure of what." Vah'lux shook her head. "Most likely greed if you ask me. They are a race of scavengers above all else, and where there are numbers in their ranks, there's bound to be trouble on the horizon."</s> <\|message\|>Brennen, Pyromancer of the Charred Bog 'Hmm...Scavengers' Brennen pondered on the word for a moment or two, for it'd be an apt one to describe him as well. Those on the outside had a negative attitude towards it, he found; cultural taboos on the treatment of corpses. Brennen found the custom barbaric, if nothing else. The Pyromancers never buried their own, though bodies of soldiers and mercenaries from ages past could still be found mummified deep within the Bog. No, upon death, a Pyromancer was cremated, their ashes scattered in the tribe's bonfire so as to return their spirit to Valaista, and the Flame that birthed them. Weapons, tools, and gear were fair game, though personal effects were typically given to family and next-of-kin. Sentimentality was but an inconsequential thing in the swamp, and could easily hinder one's survival. "Goblins. No land without them." Brennen finally said aloud, carrying disgust in his tone. Shifting his expression to one more genial, he smiled again at his rescuer. "You never gave me your name...I've no idea who to thank for my rescue." Taking a breath, he shifted subjects briefly. "I don't know in what direction my camp is, but I travel light, regardless. Nothing of real value there other than a tent and bedroll. Regardless, it's best I be on my way - you as well. I've no doubt more will arrive will before long..."</s> <\|message\|>Vah'lux Ki-ao'uthal ○ ○ ۝ ○ ○ The woman couldn't have agreed more. The Goblin population seemed more an infestation than anything else, pushing out communities here and there, and setting up their own camps by way of resources that were already available. However, they are also creatures of fairly easy flight response, and will usually only attack when they know their numbers outweigh the competition. "Vah'lux." The Goliath nodded toward the other, "And yes, others will most definitely come, if they are not already nearby, signalled by the smoke from the fires." She motioned toward the blackened pine near the edge of the clearing. "It is only good that a single tree had been affected, and not several acres as I have seen before." The Goliath shook her head, thinking back to a previous encounter with Goblins, and their destructive presence upon the woodlands. "In any case…" She continued, walking over toward both spots to retrieve her javelins. "It is time to move on." Vah'lux pulled the first weapon out of the trunk of the tree, as the corpse of the creature slid from the shaft and crumpled to the ground. As she walked over a few meters to retrieve the second, the woman stopped for a moment to listen. The clanging of armor and weapons, and the muffled chatterings of the Goblin language was carried along with the breeze blowing in the adventurers direction. After grabbing the second javelin, the Goliath signalled to Brennen, pointing to her ear first, then the direction of where the sounds were coming from. "We need to go. Now" She whispered, passing closely by the other. "There is a river to the west, not far from here. I suggest we cross it to throw off any trails, then we may go our separate ways."</s> <\|message\|>Brennen, Pyromancer of the Charred Bog "Smoke from the--oh." Brennen caught himself repeating Vah'lux's words as his eyes drifted to the results of his handiwork. He was filled with a sense of shame at his carelessness, however unintentional, and the knowledge that it has been entirely his doing. Lips twitching slightly as he focused perhaps much too hard on his actions, he instead brought himself back to the present, nodding at the large woman as she went to retrieve her javelins. But before much could be said or done, the woman stopped, tensing, a focused look in her eyes. As she signaled over to him, he heard it, too, the guttural chittering of Goblin voices and the clanging of mismatched, ill-found armor and weapons. He wracked his brain for any possible way to create a distraction of some sort, then quickly gave up. Anything he attempted to do to throw them off would likely only attract them further, no, they had to move. "Let's be off, then." Brennen declared in a hushed voice, nodding once at Vah'lux before taking off westward. Though he remained unsure just how far the Goblins had taken him from his camp, a man his size, it couldn't have been terribly far. Once he caught sight of the river, he'd be able to better catch his bearings...then see where the road took him next.</s> <\|message\|>Vah'lux Ki-ao'uthal ○ ○ ۝ ○ ○ Skimming along the river several meters, Vah'lux examined the water to catch an area where they could cross, specifically where the mud was high enough that they didn't have to be totally submerged. The sharp-toothed creatures that lurked below the water's surface were the unforgiving lot, and being too vulnerable would mean a huge disadvantage for both the Goliath and the human. The huntress kept watch along the treeline as well, ensuring that that duo wasn't being flanked by Goblin forces. "Here." She pointed to an area in the river where the mud was raised enough enough to almost make a bridge across the river. "We'll cross here. But be wary, this river is deeper than it appears." The large woman stepped into the water, which rose up to about her knees, and kept steady with her glaive used as a walking stick. "Keep an eye on any shiny yellow-orange fish, they tend to enjoy nibbling to the point that they may tear flesh."</s>	<\|message\|>Brennen, Pyromancer of the Charred Bog Following suit after the woman, Brennen was taken aback - though more out of annoyance - as the water that rose to her knees reached his torso, making his gait slow and unseemly. The Bog had only a few places where the fetid water reached any higher than one's ankles, but the Pyromancers knew to steer clear. Magics had a profound impact not only on their wielder, but on the environment as well. Places shaped, twisted by years of exposure to the mystical forces that lay just beneath the surface of the temporal. Though the Pyromancers stood as steadfast guards within the Bog for centuries, just outside their borders, covens of witches, necromancers, and would-be-warlocks practiced their foul 'arts', irrevocably tainting the land. Struggling to find a foothold in the frigid, flowing waters, Brennen briefly regretted finding his gear in the Goblin's camp, as the hatchet at his hip felt like a hunk of raw lead only further weighing him down. Eyes peeled just beneath the surface of the river, Brennen kept his arms up as much as he could, in case someone...or something intended to engage them. Spotting something bright and orange out of the corner of his eye, Brennen did not hesitate, letting out a hiss through grit teeth as he shot a bolt of fire towards its direction in the river. Though dissipating as quickly as it had appeared, the fire displaced the water, leaving naught but steam in its wake. He looked up at Vah'lux somewhat sheepishly, perhaps thinking his reaction was a tad overzealous. But given the situation they were currently in, a healthy paranoia was, perhaps, a necessity.</s>
<\|description\|>Brennen, Pyromancer of the Charred Bog Gender: Male Race: Human Main Class: Pyromancer Alignment: Chaotic Good Size: Medium Height: 5'7" Weight: 140lbs Eyes: Amber Hair: Dirty Blonde Appearance: A short, peculiar looking man with a lean, sinewy physique resulting from decades spent living off the land, Brennen's complexion is calloused and leathery, defined by the occasional crag or wrinkle that give him a seasoned appearance, despite his age. His dark blonde hair is often left oily and unkempt, with Brennen paying little heed to its care. Similarly, his square jaw is blanketed by a coarse layer of scruff, permanently singed from near-constant exposure to fire. His bright amber eyes, however, seem to glow with the fires of youth and passion, unaffected by the passage of time. Brennen's choice in clothing is as otherworldly as his appearance suggests, consisting of weathered and travel-worn robes, shawls, and tunics, covered in burn marks, singes, and frayed ends. His clothes constantly reek of smoke and burning oil, not helped in the slightest by the vials of strange liquid that he keeps on his person at all times. Personality Description: A textbook bohemian, first and foremost obsessed with fire, Brennen's isolated and uncivilized upbringing have left him a bizarre, somewhat eccentric maverick; in tune with nature and apprehensive of towns and cities. Humble and unassuming, Brennen is generally polite, if blunt at times, showing general courtesy to everyone he meets, regardless of race or social status. Though lacking in formal education, Brennen's unique perspective on the world reveals a certain philosophical wisdom that gives way to somewhat profound observations, particularly when he is deep in thought. Well aware of the destructive potential that fire brings, Brennen has dedicated much of his life to discipline and self-restraint, rarely complaining or expressing contempt, even in the harshest conditions. But when flared, his temper is like the fire he wields: ranging from slow-burning and scorching to violently explosive. But just as fire cleanses the old for new growth to emerge, Brennen's rage, once subsided, is gone for good. He holds no grudges or grievances, letting bygones be bygones.</s> <\|message\|>Vah'lux Ki-ao'uthal ○ ○ ۝ ○ ○ The flash of fire and immediate hiss of it disappearing into nothing but vapor, caught the Goliath's attention from the corner of her eye. For a moment Vah'lux had forgotten that a mage was in her midst, at least, {i]some[/i] sort of a magic user dealing with fire. A "Pyromancer" she believed they were called by some, and even "the devil's advocate" by others, which was more a term born out of spite than anything else. Most people looked at a magic user as untrustworthy and deceitful, and while the Goliath herself felt those waves of sentiment, it was more the fact that her companion was human. Trust had to be earned in great leaps and bounds for sure. "You would do well to keep the use of magic to a minimum here." She said very plainly, looking back at the other for a moment before returning her attention toward the riverbank. "There are plenty of sentient creatures in this region who would most likely kill you at the sight of such trickery." Vah'lux could tell her own bias against a human user of magic was beginning to surface in a way she didn't particularly like. Emotion was a weakness, and one she could not -would not- show in the company of a stranger. At that moment, nearing the edge of the river, she leaped onto the muddy bank, using her glaive to steady her balance due to the uneven surface. "Watch yourself there, as this sand can be unforgiving." Moments later, the garbled hysterics of the Goblin language could be heard echoing from the other side of the river, where a handful of the creatures peeked out from the darkness of the forest. A few decided it best to wastefully spend a few crude arrows at the travelers expense, all of which fell short of their targets. Vah'lux shook her head at their presence, still curious why they are as restless and aggressive as they've been for the past few weeks. "They are no danger to us now, but be on guard." The Goliath gaze across the flatter lands in front of them, which wasn't as heavily covered in trees and a bit more open. "It is safe to part ways." She gave Brennen a not, as though to say goodbye to say farewell to the human.</s> <\|message\|>Brennen, Pyromancer of the Charred Bog Trickery? Brennen at first looked confused by the word. Then - if only for a moment - indignant. What was the trickery in fire? Fire was warmth, and light. A shining beacon that stood vigilant against peerless dark. His lips twitched ever-so-slightly under his hood, as though he was measuring what to say. The flash of anger that briefly overtook him disappeared as quickly as it had come. Offense was not intended, and he would not respond with it. "The Sorcerers that navigate the lands outside may wield magic with a guileful hand, intent to deceive. But the Fire we wield is primal...heretical. Not drawn from arcane tomes and spell-books, but from ourselves." To emphasize his point, Brennen cupped both hands together, letting a sliver of flame - no bigger than a candle - manifest in his palms. "It is more than just magic." He said, this time looking up to Vah'lux. "It is a part of me." At that he smiled, almost softly, as if in reminisce. Returning to the present once more as they reached the bank of the river, Vah'lux warned of the land's unsteadiness as she leapt upon the muddy sand, using her weapon as a foothold. Nodding once, Brennen followed in suit, showing ease-of-movement that spoke to his upbringing. The Bog was filled with all manner of deep pools and shifting ground. The first mistake many would-be-conquerors made was bringing horses into such a treacherous land... "It is safe to part ways." Brennen heard her say, turning to see her nod in his direction. This was a farewell. Though Brennen's instincts agreed with her sentiment, something else in him fought against that, prompting him to, for better or worse, go against instinct. "I still owe you a debt." He replied, pausing to let the words hang in the air. "I'd have been dead by now, were it not for your timely rescue. That's something I take seriously." Though he said nothing else, his intent was quiet clear.</s> <\|message\|>Vah'lux Ki-ao'uthal ○ ○ ۝ ○ ○ The Goliath knew her words would sting the other in a way that cut deeper than she could ever imagine. They were not words to be spiteful, but moreso, out of caution, as Vah'lux had her fair share of dealing with darker forces than the one standing only a few feet from her. However, the primal side of life she most certainly understood, and respected to a degree. It was the early teachings -both physical and spiritual- of her people that kept the Goliath grounded throughout the trials and tribulations. Primal knowledge of one's heritage was important. She glanced at the small fire Brennen conjured in his cupped hands, and nodded in acknowledgement. Certainly nothing special, but still something, she supposed. However, what had caught the tribe woman off guard was the mention of a "debt" that the human mage felt as though he owed her. At first she was about to reject the offer, instinctually wanting nothing more to do with a wandering stranger who most likely didn't want to be in the Goliath's presence anyway. But, she stopped herself, and instead went against her better judgement out of a glimmer of respect for such honor and dignity being shown at the moment. "Just know I will not be responsible for your safety." She said after a few moments of mulling it over in her head, leaning slightly on tall glaive while peering down at the man. "I do not carry extra rations or water, and any food will need to be obtained by your own hands." The disclaimer did seem to come off rather harsh, but in the back of her mind, she hoped the mage would reconsider the offer and go about his own business. "Otherwise..." She sighed. "You are welcome to accompany me." The statement was followed by a nod, before turning her sights toward a cluster of trees in the distance, this time on their side of the river. "The path to the south is being watched, and the Goblins won't forget what happened back at the camp. We will continue to head west, but be on guard." She said, putting a large hand on Brennan's shoulder and giving the human a bit of a squeeze. "As these creatures have a nasty habit of picking on the smallest first." Vah'lux gave the other a wry grin and a gentle pat as she turned and headed toward the intended direction.</s> <\|message\|>Brennen, Pyromancer of the Charred Bog Brennen couldn't help a slight chuckle at Vah'lux's words, initially wanting to make a sly comment in regards to her first statement. However, given the circumstances of their meeting, Brennen decided against it. Cockiness would get him nowhere when he had to be rescued just minutes ago. Regardless, self-sufficiency was a virtue in his culture. His days of total helplessness ended the moment he was weaned off his mother's breast. Though Valaista had blessed them each with the Gift of Flame, the Bog was a dangerous place inhabited by twisted creatures. Their Arts aided them, but those who lacked the proper mindfulness were swiftly overcome. "Goblins have always been around, but--" Brennen paused, pondering on his next words before speaking. "Their boldness has increased." At this, Brennen rubbed the back of his head through the coarse fabric of his hood, wincing as his fingers brushed across the spot they had clubbed him. "Orcs and Goblins are alike in only a few ways, but those ways bode misfortune for anyone else. They're disorganized, aggressive, and self-serving. But every so often, one with a little ambition takes over and then you have an army. They never last long, but..." Brennen's mouth twitched, clearly thinking of the untold horrors that a Goblin raid would inflict. Taken out of his thoughts by the woman's large hand clapping against his shoulder, Brennen couldn't help the slight stumble in his steps from Vah'lux's clearly superior strength. "Smaller in stature, but certainly not helpless...ordinarily." Brennen spared a slight chuckle. "There should be a small town not far from here...a few miles to the West. The Goblins couldn't have taken me far, so we should still be in the right area. It's walled off, has a small militia, should be somewhere safe to stay temporarily while we figure out a plan."</s> <\|message\|>Vah'lux Ki-ao'uthal ○ ○ ۝ ○ ○ Agreeing to stick together for the time being, the pair headed west, off the beaten path as to hopefully lose any previous pursuers. The sky was slowly beginning to darken with an oncoming storm, as the temperature dropped slightly following gusts of wind. "Aye, the Goblins have been busier as of late." The Goliath nodded in agreement with Brennan's earlier comments. "Mischief begets further mischief." Vah'lux glanced behind them for a moment, seeing a few stragglers trailing behind as the cluster began to disperse. "But, something seems to be stirring their curiosity, or perhaps restlessness, as their drive toward aggression grows each day...." She returned her attention toward the path ahead. "Which becomes more of a nuisance for those wishing to be left alone." The town Brennan mentioned was known to the tribe-woman as one of many trade stops for travelers and merchants, which generally meant the roads leading there would be monitored by not only local militia, but bandits as well. And while the Goliath wanted very little to do with predominantly human-populated towns, she supposed it was a necessary evil to at least lie low for a night. "'Windsgate', I believe is the town you speak of." Vah'lux said after a few moments of silence. "I have never been there, but have met a handful of halflings and humans who reside within its walls. They were, for the most part, hospitable...at least once they saw past the giant of course." She smirked, but shaking her head as well at such things. Humans always had an uneasiness around her kind, but a Halfling who already felt too small for the world most definitely would feel out of place amongst the race of Goliath.</s>	<\|message\|>Brennen, Pyromancer of the Charred Bog Brennen let out a short chuckle at Vah'lux's remark, though could not hide his own uncertainty as they followed the path that led to the town. There was a wariness to every step he took, as if he were walking toward a confrontation. There were only a few villages that brushed the grassy border of the Bog, their inhabitants reclusive and suspicious. But those who were aware of the Pyromancers talked of them with disdain. Brennen's giant companion was right: magic was a contentious force to begin with, treated as either a high art, lowly trick, or even demonic power depending on one's perspective. As such, Brennen took care to steer clear of most settlements he came across, preferring to keep to himself in the dense wilds. Sadly, the bristled hairs on the back of his neck followed Vah'lux's suspicion as she glanced behind her. Ordinarily, skirmishers such as these would trail only until the town came into view before promptly disengaging back into whatever sweltering hole they came from. But given the current circumstances, previous behavior was no longer a reassurance. Keeping quiet for the remainder of the journey, Brennen finally broke the silence with a hushed "There it is." As Windsgate's somewhat-imposing walls came into view. The townsfolk had carved this spot of land by hand, using the fell trees to create a shielded defense from anything that dared challenge them from the outside. Two guardsmen stood watch, militia types, by the look of it; wearing an unmatched assortment of leather and chainmail, leaning on spears likely hewn from the wood found in the surrounding area. One of them sniffled, eyes peering up beneath an ill-fitted helmet to appraise the two of them. While not overtly hostile, there was a glint of misgiving in his dark eyes, likely wondering what would bring two queerly-dressed strangers to him. "You lot don't look like traders..." The guard motioned his spear towards Brennen and Vah'lux to emphasize his point. "What brings you here?"</s>
<\|description\|>Brennen, Pyromancer of the Charred Bog Gender: Male Race: Human Main Class: Pyromancer Alignment: Chaotic Good Size: Medium Height: 5'7" Weight: 140lbs Eyes: Amber Hair: Dirty Blonde Appearance: A short, peculiar looking man with a lean, sinewy physique resulting from decades spent living off the land, Brennen's complexion is calloused and leathery, defined by the occasional crag or wrinkle that give him a seasoned appearance, despite his age. His dark blonde hair is often left oily and unkempt, with Brennen paying little heed to its care. Similarly, his square jaw is blanketed by a coarse layer of scruff, permanently singed from near-constant exposure to fire. His bright amber eyes, however, seem to glow with the fires of youth and passion, unaffected by the passage of time. Brennen's choice in clothing is as otherworldly as his appearance suggests, consisting of weathered and travel-worn robes, shawls, and tunics, covered in burn marks, singes, and frayed ends. His clothes constantly reek of smoke and burning oil, not helped in the slightest by the vials of strange liquid that he keeps on his person at all times. Personality Description: A textbook bohemian, first and foremost obsessed with fire, Brennen's isolated and uncivilized upbringing have left him a bizarre, somewhat eccentric maverick; in tune with nature and apprehensive of towns and cities. Humble and unassuming, Brennen is generally polite, if blunt at times, showing general courtesy to everyone he meets, regardless of race or social status. Though lacking in formal education, Brennen's unique perspective on the world reveals a certain philosophical wisdom that gives way to somewhat profound observations, particularly when he is deep in thought. Well aware of the destructive potential that fire brings, Brennen has dedicated much of his life to discipline and self-restraint, rarely complaining or expressing contempt, even in the harshest conditions. But when flared, his temper is like the fire he wields: ranging from slow-burning and scorching to violently explosive. But just as fire cleanses the old for new growth to emerge, Brennen's rage, once subsided, is gone for good. He holds no grudges or grievances, letting bygones be bygones.</s> <\|message\|>Vah'lux Ki-ao'uthal ○ ○ ۝ ○ ○ The Goliath knew her words would sting the other in a way that cut deeper than she could ever imagine. They were not words to be spiteful, but moreso, out of caution, as Vah'lux had her fair share of dealing with darker forces than the one standing only a few feet from her. However, the primal side of life she most certainly understood, and respected to a degree. It was the early teachings -both physical and spiritual- of her people that kept the Goliath grounded throughout the trials and tribulations. Primal knowledge of one's heritage was important. She glanced at the small fire Brennen conjured in his cupped hands, and nodded in acknowledgement. Certainly nothing special, but still something, she supposed. However, what had caught the tribe woman off guard was the mention of a "debt" that the human mage felt as though he owed her. At first she was about to reject the offer, instinctually wanting nothing more to do with a wandering stranger who most likely didn't want to be in the Goliath's presence anyway. But, she stopped herself, and instead went against her better judgement out of a glimmer of respect for such honor and dignity being shown at the moment. "Just know I will not be responsible for your safety." She said after a few moments of mulling it over in her head, leaning slightly on tall glaive while peering down at the man. "I do not carry extra rations or water, and any food will need to be obtained by your own hands." The disclaimer did seem to come off rather harsh, but in the back of her mind, she hoped the mage would reconsider the offer and go about his own business. "Otherwise..." She sighed. "You are welcome to accompany me." The statement was followed by a nod, before turning her sights toward a cluster of trees in the distance, this time on their side of the river. "The path to the south is being watched, and the Goblins won't forget what happened back at the camp. We will continue to head west, but be on guard." She said, putting a large hand on Brennan's shoulder and giving the human a bit of a squeeze. "As these creatures have a nasty habit of picking on the smallest first." Vah'lux gave the other a wry grin and a gentle pat as she turned and headed toward the intended direction.</s> <\|message\|>Brennen, Pyromancer of the Charred Bog Brennen couldn't help a slight chuckle at Vah'lux's words, initially wanting to make a sly comment in regards to her first statement. However, given the circumstances of their meeting, Brennen decided against it. Cockiness would get him nowhere when he had to be rescued just minutes ago. Regardless, self-sufficiency was a virtue in his culture. His days of total helplessness ended the moment he was weaned off his mother's breast. Though Valaista had blessed them each with the Gift of Flame, the Bog was a dangerous place inhabited by twisted creatures. Their Arts aided them, but those who lacked the proper mindfulness were swiftly overcome. "Goblins have always been around, but--" Brennen paused, pondering on his next words before speaking. "Their boldness has increased." At this, Brennen rubbed the back of his head through the coarse fabric of his hood, wincing as his fingers brushed across the spot they had clubbed him. "Orcs and Goblins are alike in only a few ways, but those ways bode misfortune for anyone else. They're disorganized, aggressive, and self-serving. But every so often, one with a little ambition takes over and then you have an army. They never last long, but..." Brennen's mouth twitched, clearly thinking of the untold horrors that a Goblin raid would inflict. Taken out of his thoughts by the woman's large hand clapping against his shoulder, Brennen couldn't help the slight stumble in his steps from Vah'lux's clearly superior strength. "Smaller in stature, but certainly not helpless...ordinarily." Brennen spared a slight chuckle. "There should be a small town not far from here...a few miles to the West. The Goblins couldn't have taken me far, so we should still be in the right area. It's walled off, has a small militia, should be somewhere safe to stay temporarily while we figure out a plan."</s> <\|message\|>Vah'lux Ki-ao'uthal ○ ○ ۝ ○ ○ Agreeing to stick together for the time being, the pair headed west, off the beaten path as to hopefully lose any previous pursuers. The sky was slowly beginning to darken with an oncoming storm, as the temperature dropped slightly following gusts of wind. "Aye, the Goblins have been busier as of late." The Goliath nodded in agreement with Brennan's earlier comments. "Mischief begets further mischief." Vah'lux glanced behind them for a moment, seeing a few stragglers trailing behind as the cluster began to disperse. "But, something seems to be stirring their curiosity, or perhaps restlessness, as their drive toward aggression grows each day...." She returned her attention toward the path ahead. "Which becomes more of a nuisance for those wishing to be left alone." The town Brennan mentioned was known to the tribe-woman as one of many trade stops for travelers and merchants, which generally meant the roads leading there would be monitored by not only local militia, but bandits as well. And while the Goliath wanted very little to do with predominantly human-populated towns, she supposed it was a necessary evil to at least lie low for a night. "'Windsgate', I believe is the town you speak of." Vah'lux said after a few moments of silence. "I have never been there, but have met a handful of halflings and humans who reside within its walls. They were, for the most part, hospitable...at least once they saw past the giant of course." She smirked, but shaking her head as well at such things. Humans always had an uneasiness around her kind, but a Halfling who already felt too small for the world most definitely would feel out of place amongst the race of Goliath.</s> <\|message\|>Brennen, Pyromancer of the Charred Bog Brennen let out a short chuckle at Vah'lux's remark, though could not hide his own uncertainty as they followed the path that led to the town. There was a wariness to every step he took, as if he were walking toward a confrontation. There were only a few villages that brushed the grassy border of the Bog, their inhabitants reclusive and suspicious. But those who were aware of the Pyromancers talked of them with disdain. Brennen's giant companion was right: magic was a contentious force to begin with, treated as either a high art, lowly trick, or even demonic power depending on one's perspective. As such, Brennen took care to steer clear of most settlements he came across, preferring to keep to himself in the dense wilds. Sadly, the bristled hairs on the back of his neck followed Vah'lux's suspicion as she glanced behind her. Ordinarily, skirmishers such as these would trail only until the town came into view before promptly disengaging back into whatever sweltering hole they came from. But given the current circumstances, previous behavior was no longer a reassurance. Keeping quiet for the remainder of the journey, Brennen finally broke the silence with a hushed "There it is." As Windsgate's somewhat-imposing walls came into view. The townsfolk had carved this spot of land by hand, using the fell trees to create a shielded defense from anything that dared challenge them from the outside. Two guardsmen stood watch, militia types, by the look of it; wearing an unmatched assortment of leather and chainmail, leaning on spears likely hewn from the wood found in the surrounding area. One of them sniffled, eyes peering up beneath an ill-fitted helmet to appraise the two of them. While not overtly hostile, there was a glint of misgiving in his dark eyes, likely wondering what would bring two queerly-dressed strangers to him. "You lot don't look like traders..." The guard motioned his spear towards Brennen and Vah'lux to emphasize his point. "What brings you here?"</s> <\|message\|>Vah'lux Ki-ao'uthal ○ ○ ۝ ○ ○ The journey on foot toward Windsgate had been relatively quiet, which was fortunate for one such as the Goliath, preferring the ambience of her woodland surroundings to the ramblings of a human. Still, Brennen's company was bearable as traveling companions go. Vah'lux felt slightly more connected to him from the little she knew of his background and culture, but it did appear that he was a lot closer to nature than many of his kind she had encountered previously. Humans were, at least in her experience, about as untrustworthy as they came, and the woman hoped that she was wrong about the mage. "And so it is." She responded to the other, as they made it to the gates of the town under the watchful and suspicious eyes of the guards. Their bewildered expressions did not go unnoticed, as was typical when a Goliath -much larger than a human by a few feet- would come within proximity. Sometimes it was a mere glance and the shaking of a head, but there have been other times where the initial response was to draw weapons on such a creature as though the lot of her race were nothing but mindless barbarians. Thankfully however, the latter had not been the case, as both her and Brennen stepped into the courtyard of Windsgate unbothered. An ornate circular fountain sat in the center of the square, and at the top sat the statue of their alleged local founder and folk hero: a hunter-gatherer who fought off hordes of Goblins and Orcs to liberate the lands and usher in peace for many years. Of course, peace only lasts for so long. "Where shall we go from here?" Vah'lux said, leaning against her glaive and surveying the small wood and stone buildings that lined the area. Among them, a tavern sat at the far end. "While I am not one to drink at such an early hour, I seem to recall the tavern straight ahead as having a wonderful stew, known to replenish even the most weary of travelers."</s>	<\|message\|>Brennen, Pyromancer of the Charred Bog Once past the gate, Brennen's apparent wariness, earlier directed toward the Goblins that skulked after them, seemed to only magnify in their supposed safe place. Though a humble town carved from the land, Windsgate was still a proper hamlet, a shard of civilization. Stone fountains, wood town houses, cobblestone roads, it all reeked of unfamiliarity. The Pyromancers prided themselves on reclusiveness; for they were guardians of the Flame. Even the most opportunistic of them only went as far as inhabiting half-sunken ruins and long-abandoned forts, slowly reclaimed by the Bog. Each tribe's mighty bonfire could be seen from almost anywhere in the swamps; a sign of shelter and comfort. By comparison, the few braziers and sconces that marked Windsgate's pathways seemed weak and hollow. They burned, but these people did not understand the true essence of Fire. Brennen either ignored or did not notice the muffled laughter that followed after the two of them, no doubt from the gate guards that let them pass. Indeed, the two of them made a motley duo, to say the least, both of them drawing the attention of nearly every man, woman, and child that walked past. Who were they? The townspeople may have asked. Savages from the grim north woods? Barbarians from the cragged mountains to the east? Brennen kept his head low, hoping to pretend that the inquisitive eyes that pierced them did not exist. "A stew sounds wonderful." He finally said, not realizing his hunger until the words left his lips. Scouring his belt, Brennen's fingers clasped around one of the many hand-stitched pouches that adorned his person, bouncing it lightly in his hand, accompanied by the distinct clanking of coins. Money was an odd commodity to him, though he was not foolish enough to dare brave the outside world without carrying some with him. It was good fortune that kept the Goblins from splitting it all amongst themselves. A side-effect of greed, most likely. "To the tavern, then!" Brennen declared, his voice more confident, if only slightly.</s>