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Lysandra Tyaelly

"I walk the unknown paths of the present, so they may become the famed landmarks of the future."

0 · 176 views · located in Valderia

a character in “The Magic Hunters of Valderia”, originally authored by Byte, as played by RolePlayGateway

Description




“Live today as if it were your last. For it can change what tomorrow brings, or undo what yesterday has given.”

Image
Image belongs to - sXeven@DA




Name Gender
Lysandra Tyaelly Female

Nicknames Race
Liss(y), Sandra Human (Solarian)

Age Occupation
Twenty-six Navigator; Archaeologist




Physical Description
It doesn't take more than a second glance to notice the unmistakable features of the, open quotes, "proud" Solarian tribe that mark the majority of Lysandra's appearance. Her fair skin is light-toned, though inevitably branded with markings earned through her many years of venturing through the wilderness, but not anything worth mentioning. On her head, Lysandra sports a wild, raggedy sandy hairdo that reaches well over ear-length. She allowed a portion of her hair to grow out a bit longer, reaching just over shoulder-length and is kept in a small braid that rests gently on Lysandra's back. The woman's eyes are a sharp, flashy, greenish blue; A contrast to her less colourful features. She's surprisingly shorter than most average Solarians. Barely reaching the five foot six mile, accompanied by a scrawny body that weighs roughly a hundred and ten pounds, Lysandra is a rather lithe and tiny figure.

Skin color: Light
Hair color: Sand blonde
Eye Color: A crystallized, greenish blue




Personality
Calm and often down-to-earth, Lysandra is one of the rare individuals who enjoys the simpler things of life. A gentle breeze, the first snow in Winter, the soothing sound of the ocean waves. Things that need not be sought after, but rather you find by standing still and listening to the world that you live in. It is one of the many reasons Lysandra choose to head out into the big bad world of Valderia. She enjoys seeing things with her own eyes, to meet new people and gain their friendship, to walk along the unknown paths that lead to nowhere but further down to the end of her goals. It has brought her far, and it taught her much. While Lysandra isn't much of a "treehugger", nor any kind of animal rights activist, she does feel more comfortable among natural life than she does civilization. Mostly because... She feels restricted, somehow, and that restriction often expresses itself in nervousness or, in extreme case, brash cynicism to hide her mild phobia of losing the freedom she fought hard for to earn.

Lysandra is nothing short of your average adventurer du jour, shrieking with excitement if she catches so much as a mere scent of possible dangers, a hint of intriguing rumors and promising discoveries. Where there is adventure to be had, history to be made, or unknown lands to be traversed, you can bet your non-existing moneybags that Lysandra will inevitably follow not too far behind it. Being a committed archaeologist and cartographer in the field, the Solarian woman is a rather dignified character amidst the usual brutes that seek the thrill and challenges of a world that wants to be theoretically dissected and understood. Dignified in the sense that she is well-spoken, and carries a certain demeanour that makes her out to be more than she actually is. Though with this dignity, comes the inevitable pride one takes. For Lysandra, it's freedom. Harboring an almost obsessive pride in her lack of ties to any society, Lysandra is quick to battle any notion of taking away that which she holds dear the most. In contradiction, though, she abhors the very idea of a world without rule, since she believes a society based on anarchy can only end in inevitable catastrophe.

Likes Dislikes
Freedom Swindlers/Liars
Cartography Unjustified hatred
The sounds of nature Restrictions
Chitchat Stupidity
Winged creatures Larger settlements





Skills and Abilities
Practical Skills
Cartography
A steady hand is an artist's hand, and Lysandra certainly got a pair of those. She draws maps rather well, which is incidentally beneficial to completing her dream and practical when you find yourself wandering down a confusing labyrinth of woods or caves.

Navigation
Lysandra always had an affinity for picking the correct route, and that affinity used in conjunction with maps and compasses make for a pretty reliable navigator on the team.

Singing
Lysandra might not be the best singer out there, but it's a remarkable skill nonetheless. While not of any use from a practical standpoint, it did earn Lysandra a few hands of gold pieces during her lone ventures.

Book-smart
Reading through countless records of Valderia's history has always been a favourite pastime of Lysandra, and one that came to good use during her travels. Though there is always more to learn, and she wouldn't hesitate to gain more knowledge on how the world came to be.


Combative Skills
Swordsmanship
A good swordsman is not one who knows how to use their weapon of choice, but rather when. Lysandra is a decent practitioner of the mighty sword, more so than her marksmanship, even. She "Expresses" her skill with nimble maneuvers and accurate swipes, a tactic that has proven valuable in tight situations.

Marksmanship
Pointing the barrel at the one thing you want gone sounds simple enough, but it is an entirely different story when you are actually trying to hit it. While you can't say she's got the eyes of an eagle, Lysandra is skilled enough to know to shoot where it hurts the most.


Equipment
Weapons
Order's Bane
Razor-sharp and slanted like any katana would be, the Order's Bane, previously known as the Silent Justice, was forged from the best metals available in the Solarian Empire. Its blade is sturdy and durable, able to slice a large chunk out of a tree trunk when used properly. The hilt, wrapped in a pure red cloth, has been ornamented with three tiny, silver feathers on each side.

Free Eagle
Your standard steampunk rifle that is used for long range shooting. Build with the necessary gizmos to keep it functional, the brass and copper coloured rifle has been personally decorated by Lysandra with feathers of varying lengths and colours that she found on her travels, all neatly strapped onto the weapon with strings around the butt of the weapon. Lysandra dubbed it Free Eagle, reminding her of the freedom she now has and wants to keep.


Gear
Lysandra doesn't carry much in terms of 'junk' or 'miscellaneous' items. Her satchel is filled with maps that she drew herself, among a couple of blank sheets that she can use when necessary. She also carries a fair supply of ink and pens for that exact reason. Other than that, the woman wears a thick, leathery wristband that holds a compass.


Magic
Lysandra feigns ignorance of possessing any magical affinity whatsoever, as if she has no clue what the others are talking about. While in reality, she is an adept user of Holy Magic. Though she would rather not use it. Even if she wanted to, she couldn't. Lysandra refrains from wearing any symbol or object pertaining to the Life Walkers.




Bio
Lysandra often wonders about ages past. It is part of her nature, to think about past events that might have given a different outcome if she had chosen differently. Born as the only child, and thus the heiress, of a posh, rich family that is part of the Solarian Empire, Lysandra was practically raised like royalty. Taught good manners, given a proper fancy appearance, given whatever her heart desired the most. Well, almost everything. With a retired war veteran for a father, and a teacher of Holy Magic for a mother, it was inevitable that the girl had a rather secure, safe and religious upbringing. Something she still despises to this day, and hopes to never, ever return to. Her life was a mere gilded cage; Beautiful and serene on the outside, but ugly and restrictive on the inside. Lysandra was kept behind the confines of the Tyaelly manor, only rarely allowed out for classes and appearance. She was a plaything, a showcase of the family that was forced to follow into the footsteps that her parents had already dug into the dirt.

The only escape from her caged life, were the countless works that Lysandra's family had kept within their personal library. Fairy tales, historical literature her personal favourites to read through as it was her only means to interact with a world that kept tugging her curiosity. Her sheltered upbringing only added more fuel to that curiosity, and when the chance to sneak outside presented itself, she embraced it with both arms. For the first time in her life, she felt free. Daunted, but free. Like a young bird who has to fly for the first time. Of course, not knowing much about the lower classes in Pryston left Lysandra somewhat baffled and confused when she roamed freely around the town. She quickly befriended a street rat known only by the name of Trish, a young girl who made a living off of begging for scraps and gold. 'Twas an interesting friendship to say the least, and they'd grow closer as the years slowly ticked away from the calendar. Closer than Lysandra's parents would've wanted, and her freedom would once more be a mere impossible dream.

When one of the working maids, visiting Pryston for her daily shopping, had not only caught Lysandra away from the manor without permission, but saw the then teenage girl act on a... revolting preference to put it lightly. Sneaking away was one thing, associating with riff-raff another, but a romantic interest? The horrified, yet enraged expressions of her parents is still burned deeply into Lysandra's mind. As if she had done the worst possible thing a child could do, Lysandra's freedom was stripped entirely, watched every minute of the day from when she woke up to when she would go to bed. Force fed propaganda by her mother that ensured she felt more caged than she did already. This unhappiness kept eating away at her sanity for years, the letters from Trish snuck into the house and her imagination did little to lighten her up. Until... a plan was formed to leave her wretched home for good.

With the help of one of the newer servants, Jonathan, the same servant who was kind enough to be the middle man of Trish and Lysandra's complicated means of contact, Lysandra was able to sneak out of the house under the darkness of the night. She packed everything she could find, sheets, maps, and even her father's heirloom sword that she decided to take with her, before meeting her dearest at their usual meeting spot. However, Trish didn't leave with Lysandra. Instead she said goodbye and wished the girl a fortunate future wherever she may go. And from there, Lysandra ran away and choose never to look back on Pryston, her old home, or any of the friends she had made there. She was a vagabond, and that life was far less glamorous than the books made it out to be. Cold, hungry and alone, Lysandra was forced to a life of poverty. Begging and performing for money. Though, her artistic skills came in handy once she arrived in Teker territory, and caught word about the Strelanka Academy of Aeronautics and decided to check it out.

While attending the academy to further her cartography and navigational skills, Lysandra found that she wasn't wanted for... obvious reasons. Of course, a Solarian wouldn't quite fit in with all the Tekers that still held a fresh grudge for her kin. That on top of Lysandra's reluctance for any amount of small talk and mingling, she was a definite outcast; A stranger in foreign lands, looked at with disdain by the others. That was except for one; Morgan, Lysandra's long time friend who she travels with to this day. She helped the poor girl out of one of her many conflicts with a small group of students that had it out for her, and after some talking, read awkward staring, they became good friends with a mutual interest to see the world. So after life in the academy, the two opted to make a living off of adventure, travelling and hunting for undiscovered treasures.

Recently they stumbled across a recruitment poster for the Global Magic Hunter Organization and decided to take their chances to quench their thirst for adventure and epic discoveries.

Home Nation: The Solarian Empire
Home city: Pryston, a village located in the North-West region of the Solarian Empire.



So begins...

Lysandra Tyaelly's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Morgan Taylor Character Portrait: Lysandra Tyaelly
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#, as written by Byte
Morgan exited the store she had been browsing and made her way back to Lysandra, who was sitting on a nearby bench. Despite being a Teker in a Solarian city, she was actually enjoying the experience a little, if mostly because of the festival taking place. With Lysandra, however, things were a little different.

"I'm back. Sorry that took so long," Morgan said as she sat down next to her friend, handing over one of the apples she'd bought. Neither of them felt like getting something more substantial to eat, since lunch was still a while off. About halfway through her own apple, the engineer glanced at her friend. "Something the matter?"

"Not really." Lysandra let out a sigh, her right foot tapping the ground in an almost rhythmic fashion. "Well, you know I'm not comfortable out here." She took another bite out of her apple. "In the city, I mean." Lysandra never really felt at ease among anything remotely populated, it was like the navigator felt she was being held by something, or someone, whenever they entered a city. It made her rather nervous, alert.

"Yeah, I know what you mean. Too many Solarians around here for my liking. Well, not that you count, obviously." Morgan watched the crowds going up and down the street for some time, trying to think of a way to cheer Lysandra up. "Hey, maybe try some of this?" she suggested, offering a paper bag to the navigator. "Candied root ginger, the guy said this was. Might help calm your nerves or something."

"Candied what?" Lysandra looked at Morgan with a bit of a grim, disgusted expression. "I guess..." She took the bag hesitantly, taking a piece of this 'candied root ginger' and carefully inspecting it. "It wouldn't hurt to try." And without much thought, Lysandra popped the piece of candy in her mouth.

It was surprisingly tasty, a soft and sweet flavour bringing a smile on her face. "Not bad." Lysandra remarked, before subsequently regretting those words as her mouth felt like it was set on fire. Lysandra hastily gestured to Morgan, a somewhat sour expression replacing the shortlived smile in an attempt to convey that the navigator was desperate for some- "Water."

Doing her best not to laugh, Morgan quickly fished out her hip flask and handed it over to the poor girl. Curious as to what it would taste like, she tried a piece of ginger for herself. Her initial reaction was more or less the same as Lysandra's, although unlike the navigator, Morgan could handle more spicier foods.

"Pretty good stuff, this is. Glad I bought it," she commented, reaching for another piece. "You okay there, Liss?"

"No?" Lysandra retorted inbetween sips. "Felt like I ate a handful of peppers." Handing the flask over to Morgan, the navigator laughed inwardly. Regardless of how horrible it tasted, it had lightened her mood a fair bit. "Alright," Lysandra pushed herself from the bench, slinging her trusty rifle over her shoulder as she stood up.

Readjusting the katana that was strapped on her waist, the Solarian woman turned to face her friend. "I think we've sat around for long enough." She turned her gaze further down into the city. "Let's see if we can find what we're looking for."

"Yeah, let's get a move on. We could -" Morgan's words were cut short as the sound of a gunshot rang through the air. Her hand instinctively darted towards the caster at her hip. "We could probably check out what's causing that commotion," she said. "Any idea which direction the sound came from?"

"What? Afraid you'll get lost again?" The navigator chuckled gleefully, before pointing further down the road. "Sounds like it came from over there. Give or take a few degrees." She remarked, smiling in anticipation of what this could mean. Though anything involving a gunshot was definitely worth checking out.

"It was just one time I got lost. Just one! You're not gonna let me live it down, are you?" Morgan muttered as the pair of them made their way to the source of the noise, which took them to the town square, of all places. Amidst the crowds, Morgan spotted an unusual-looking stall with some kind of living statue holding up a crude banner. "Super Awesome Magic Hunters Recruitment? Well... I guess it looks legit, seeing how there's a few others having a look at it. Shall we?"

As they got closer to the stall, Morgan was able to get a glimpse or two of who was running the show. "Hang on, isn't that...? It can't be. Wait, I think I saw his cat! It has to be him, I'm sure," the engineer said to herself, grinning from ear to ear.

"You're mumbling to yourself, dear." Lysandra raised a single, confused eyebrow at her companion. Finding it a bit out of the ordinary to see Morgan sport an almost Cheshire cat grin. She usually only did that with fancy- No, proper fancy airships that soared through the skies. "Hey, who're you going on about?" The navigator asked, waving her hand in front of the engineer's face.

"You'll see soon enough, once this queue gets sorted out," replied Morgan, although calling the crowd of random adventurers a queue was stretching it a bit.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Fea Rainglore Character Portrait: Seraphina Celosia Character Portrait: Thomas Aefenleoht Character Portrait: Maleki Character Portrait: Adris Dasul Character Portrait: Valar Karackson Character Portrait: Elant Weisand Character Portrait: Spotface Character Portrait: Lucious Marder Character Portrait: Kiska Character Portrait: Hugo Tyrus Character Portrait: VPS-GWF3: Gainsboro Twelve Character Portrait: Morgan Taylor Character Portrait: Lysandra Tyaelly Character Portrait: Alumaruk Ugak
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A train comes rolling into a station, slowly grinding to a stop. with a hiss, the train’s doors slide open. “Kiergestein, Kiergestein station. Please watch your step when getting of the train.” the message repeats itself a few times more as the passengers stream out of the train and onto the station. As the train empties out., a metallic figure hops out of the exit, landing onto platform with a thud. “Wow, that was a long train ride. Almost succumbed to boredom on the way here.” The figure said. “Now, how do i get to the central square?” With that question in mind, he went asking around, but many were reluctant to mention anything at all, besides a friendly elderly lady whom he suspected had a case of bad eyesight. Nonetheless, she detailed him the exact way to get to the centre from where he was. Thanking the elderly lady, he made his way there, stopping briefly to buy a newspaper.

“Hey, didja hear? Some nutter fired a few shots at a cat in central square.””Yeah yeah, heard that already. get with the times rog my buddy.” Is what a middle aged men said to another. “Reading this newspaper will have to wait.”Gainsboro said as he tucked the newspaper under his right arm, and continued on his way towards the centrum. Each step fast and with purpose, The click-clacking sound his metal feet made upon the cobblestone street audible enough to attract numerous looks during his brisk walk. When he finally made it to the square He noticed three glaringly obvious things.

One: The very flamboyant performer on stage who looked highly annoyed by the rabbit kindred next to him.
Two: The most diverse group of all time was gathered around one spot.
Three: The Grey, gargantuan women who held a sign which looked small in her hands, up in the air which had "Super Awesome Magic Hunters Recruitment." crudely written on it. “Truly, a toddler could have done a better job of writing it”. Is what he thought.

He but away his still unread newspaper in his slingbag and retrieved his Proof of assignment letter from the main United Keter States GMHO branch. He made his way to the extraordinary group, his foot falls ever audible as walked around the group until he saw the person next to the giant of a women, a relatively tall, well built man who wore his hair in a tail, who he just saw slamming two stacks of paper on the table, giving the shortest disclaimer he ever heard and introducing himself as Hugo and his feline companion as Felix.

"The party will be acting as an official expedition party that will act on the behalf of the GMHO and because of this I cannot divulge the details of the expedition in public or to non party members. If the circumstances were different I would be free to tell everything, but the GMHO doesn't like people knowing everything about what they do and I'd like to keep my license and my life. You are also required to sign either a two month or four month contract to join the party so that you will be able to receive the necessary visas. So who wants to get rich or die a horrendous and painful death trying?" After he finished talking, and after letting various people including the bunnygirl respond to Hugo, Gainsboro addressed the man.

“Sir. I have been newly assigned to you by the main Teker GMHO branch.” He says as he holds out his assignment letter. “My name is Variable Proto System, Grand Walker Frame III; “Gainsboro Twelve”. You may call me Gainsboro Twelve. Am i also required to fill in these forms, and is there anything i can assist you with at the moment, sir?” He asked, his voice somewhat altered through the voice box behind his faceplate, and slightly muffled by the faceplate itself.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Fea Rainglore Character Portrait: Seraphina Celosia Character Portrait: Thomas Aefenleoht Character Portrait: Maleki Character Portrait: Adris Dasul Character Portrait: Valar Karackson Character Portrait: Elant Weisand Character Portrait: Spotface Character Portrait: Lucious Marder Character Portrait: Kiska Character Portrait: Hugo Tyrus Character Portrait: VPS-GWF3: Gainsboro Twelve Character Portrait: Morgan Taylor Character Portrait: Lysandra Tyaelly Character Portrait: Alumaruk Ugak
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June 21--10:35 AM
Kergstien, Solarian Empire


By the time the Huntsmaster-to-be had finished speaking and sent confetti flying everywhere, Michael was staring at him with a confounded look. This man did...not seem quite right in the head. He was rather spontaneous, and as far as Michael could see, not entirely trustworthy. And just what was he doing, talking to his cat?

But one thing was clear: Hugo would not be giving him any more information. Combing the confetti and streamers out of his short, pink hair, Michael turned around and started walking away without giving much of a farewell at all. As soon as he was sure he was out of eyesight of the crowd at the booth, however, he glanced backwards, and for a fraction of a second, his eye flashed orange once more, allowing him to see the magic signatures of everyone at that stand.

And good heavens, there were plenty of tremendously powerful people there! The "statue" lady, the Huntsmaster, a young lady with white hair, even a man in a black suit who sat a small distance from the booth...actually, whether the man in the suit was involved, Michael didn't know, but that wasn't the point...in any case, he could see that the power flowing through their bodies exceeded both his and Thomas' at normal levels.

Just as Michael was wondering why so many powerful people had come to this Hunting Party in particular, his thought process was interrupted by metallic clanking--and he looked up barely in time to see what appeared to be a robotic suit walking past. For a few moments, Michael continued to stare in awe while it marched to the booth--and then, he made up his mind about something.

Rushing into a dark alley, he raised a hand to his bracelet and made a short yet urgent conversation with someone else. "...Yes. I understand. I'll tell him right away." After that was over, he made another call, this time to Thomas.

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Thomas, meanwhile, was bowing to his audience with a triumphant smile on his face. The show had gone with no further distractions, and his fans were very pleased--though Thomas himself had panicked internally when the loud robotic suit had gone past, but thankfully his Fan Service had not been ignored.

The people around him were now shouting for an encore performance, and Thomas was about to reply when he noticed the violet gem on his bracelet flashing. Although rather annoyed, this time, he knew something important was going on. "Ah, hold on a moment, my fans. Your encore will begin shortly." Raising a hand one more time, he packed the puppets into the dark violet box and rushed away, where he could continue his conversation in peace. "What is it, Michael? I need to do an encore!"

"Well, I'm sorry, but your Fan Service must wait a bit longer," his younger brother's voice retorted. "Listen, Thomas. There was a booth next to your show--remember it? Where that crazy man shot at his cat?"

"Yes, what about it?" Thomas asked impatiently.

There was a pause on the other side of the line. Then, "We would like you to join that man's Hunting Party."

"Pfft, I'm too busy for-" Thomas suddenly stopped dead in his tracks and stared at the bracelet as though it had turned into a jellyfish. "Wait, WHAT?! Why would I need to do that?!"

Michael's voice continued, but the voices were getting louder around his end, so he probably was re-entering the main square. "Most of the people looking to be in that Hunting Party are extremely strong. That level of strength is exactly what Fath..." The words suddenly halted, and in that moment, Thomas bowed his head rather miserably while Michael resumed speaking in a shakier voice. "...what we are looking for. So...he asked you to join."

"Well, why not you? I've got work to do!" Even though what Michael almost said had dampened his spirits, Thomas was still rather determined not to go.

"There's still one week of classes left, so I can't go. And, well, you...know why we can't send Christopher.'" Another silence fell between the brothers before Michael finally resumed talking. "Well, in any case, you're the only one out of us that can go. So, I'll ask the Huntsmaster if you can enter. Get back to the square, alright? You can do your encore after we're finished."

Finally, Thomas reluctantly agreed and headed back towards the center of the city.

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Right. This should work out fine. Michael, at this point, had reached the booth again, and raised a hand to call attention to himself. "Excuse me, sir," he called to Hugo. "I will not be joining your Hunting Party myself just yet, but could I reserve a spot for someone else?"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Fea Rainglore Character Portrait: Seraphina Celosia Character Portrait: Lucious Marder Character Portrait: Kiska Character Portrait: Hugo Tyrus Character Portrait: VPS-GWF3: Gainsboro Twelve Character Portrait: Morgan Taylor Character Portrait: Lysandra Tyaelly
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Hugo leaned on the table and looked the bunny girl in the eyes and smiled, "No, I said that main goal is to get rich or die in horrendous ways trying. After all, magic hunters don't just die, they die horrific, painful, and gruesome deaths, unless they do drugs or they have a heart condition." Hugo dropped his serious tone in favor of a much friendlier version.

"I'm required to make sure that most participants know that most deaths are horrible, it reduces liability. Here's the dealio, I don't know where you got the idea that we will be searching for vaults, cause only a fool plans on finding vaults, unless the fool has map, but then he wouldn't be a fool, he would be a very rich person in the near future." Hugo paused for moment, "Wait, I'm getting off topic, shit." Hugo quickly cleared his throat, "I'm not going to lie, there is a possibility of finding a vault, but it's not a guarantee and it won't be our primary objective. But what we find, what we do with the vault is all up to the future us, you know what I mean? And there's also the fact that I can't predict what future Hugo will do in a vault." Hugo pulled out two contract choices and presented them to the bunny girl, "I'm not going to judge but I have to know, are you one of the plague cure chasers? It's okay if you are, but don't raise any hopes." Hugo dipped the quill and placed it in front of the two contract options, "Alright Floppsy, sign on the dotted line if you're still interested."

Hugo picked up two contracts and handed it to the seraph, "And Angel Dust, you should know the routine, choose the contract length you want and sign on the dotted line and you'll be in. It'll be great to have a healer and a veteran on board." Hugo pulled out another pair of contracts and handed them to the half elf, "Don't call it a quest, you'll make it sound like a field trip for small children. If you're interested, sign on the the dotted line, and you can join the crew. But I'm not going to accept your help, to be honest I don't trust the bureaucratic abilities of someone named Donnie, you look like a Donnie, are you named Donnie?" Hugo gave the half elf a big smile, "Just messin', though I will need your name. There are people named Donnie everywhere and you can't trust people named Donnie."

Hugo turned to the iron clad man, "Nice to meet you, but that wasn't a name, and I refuse to refer to you by a product code so I'm going give you a nickname, and I'll let you choose which nickname ya get since you gave something that was supposed to be a name. So your choices are Robo-Enforcer or Plate Face." Hugo pushed the two contract options forwords, "You can get back to me on that choice with a signed contract."

Hugo glared at the fruity haired teenager, "Listen Berry Boy, this isn't a dumping ground for your reject boyfriends, I don't accept reservations. Isn't that right Felix. Felix?" Hugo turned his head to where Felix was sitting, "Shit, what the hell Felix! Where did you go?"

Felix had left during the flurry of questions and answers. Hugo was being loud, there were too many people around the table and Felix decided it would be best to scope out the other applicants. As he slipped through the crowd Felix detected a faint and familiar smell as well as its accompanying presence. Felix soon spotted that red scarf, and that blond hair. So it really was Morgan, even though she aged, Felix still thought she still looked the same. She still looked like a half breed and she still accessorized like a socialist. Felix leaped onto Morgan's shoulder by using Morgan's traveling companion as a boost. Felix smiled and began tapping a message into the forehead of Morgan in Morse Code. The message was on the lines of, "Greetings compatriot who dresses like a communist, how goes your glorious revolution? Also if Hugo was here with me he would most likely say some form of hello."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Fea Rainglore Character Portrait: Seraphina Celosia Character Portrait: Maleki Character Portrait: Valar Karackson Character Portrait: Elant Weisand Character Portrait: Spotface Character Portrait: Lucious Marder Character Portrait: Kiska Character Portrait: Hugo Tyrus Character Portrait: VPS-GWF3: Gainsboro Twelve Character Portrait: Morgan Taylor Character Portrait: Lysandra Tyaelly Character Portrait: Alumaruk Ugak
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"Nice to meet you, but that wasn't a name, and I refuse to refer to you by a product code so I'm going to give you a nickname, and I'll let you choose which nickname ya get since you gave something that was supposed to be a name. So your choices are Robo-Enforcer or Plate Face. You can get back to me on that choice with a signed contract." The recruiter had said.

“Oh sir, you wound me. I hold considerable pride in my name you know? I am saddened you wouldn’t even settle for Gainsboro.” The Voltikron said before a small chuckle escaped him. “ I jest, it doesn’t bother me to that extend. Can’t say the same for the lead designer. Cute kid. I’d break her heart if she heard about it though. ” He took the form with the 4 month option, and started filling it in. While he filled in the form, he thought about those two nicknames.”Robo-enforcer? What am i? a kill bot? “TARGET EXTERMINATED, AWAITING NEW DIRECTIVES. NEW DIRECTIVES AQCUIRED, ENGAGING NEW TARGET.” He tried to stifle a snicker as he imagined it. “Plate face was just as bad. Seriously, this Hugo guy is quite unimagineative. Let’s just get this form filled in.” He thought.

"Age, birthplace, race aaand done.” He handed his now filled in form back to Hugo as he spoke. “Here you go sir. Now about those nicknames… They sound both quite horrible and uncreative. I’d really prefer it if you’d just call me Gainsboro or even Gain, but if you have to be stubborn about it, At least call me Dan, Metalman or Tinman. Heck, even Tincan’s better.” He tried to explain to the GMHO assigned recruiter. “Either way, i’ll be sitting over here reading my newspaper until you need me.” He said while shrugging, as he made his way towards a nearby bench. He took his newspaper out of his bag and sat down, Crossing his left leg over the right in a casual manner. He started reading the frontpage slowly, taking his time reading it, all the while whistling what he thought was a soft, pleasant tune.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kai Ember Character Portrait: Hugo Tyrus Character Portrait: Morgan Taylor Character Portrait: Lysandra Tyaelly
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Out of all the assembled adventurers gathered at the stall, Morgan and Lysandra were probably the most normal-looking. As Hugo finished his speech, the crowd surged forwards to sign up for the expedition. There were all kinds of people here, most notably two Seraphs. Morgan would've been surprised enough to see just one in her lifetime. As those in front started signing their respective contracts, Morgan took the time to finish off her ginger. It wasn't the cheapest stuff, so she hadn't bought that much of it. Shortly after she'd thrown away the paper bag, the engineer was almost knocked off balance by the sudden arrival of a certain cat jumping on her shoulder. Returning the grin, Morgan recognised the message being tapped onto her forehead as none other than Morse code.

"Cheeky git. You're wearing more red than I am," she said, reaching up to give Felix a scratch behind the ears. "So how have you and Hugo been doing?"

Lysandra looked understandably confused. It was one thing to have a cat use you as a stepping stone, but watching said cat start a conversation with your friend was another matter entirely.

"Is this...?" It bewildered the navigator that she was even going to ask such a stupid question. "Who you were talking about?" She eyed the cat, watching it touch Morgan's forehead in a series of taps.

"Hmm? Oh, this is Hugo's cat, Felix. As for what we were talking about, well, it's an in-joke between us. Felix here thinks my scarf makes me look like a communist," explained Morgan.

"So," Lysandra began. Trying hard not to ask her friend if she just stepped out of a mental ward. "Talking cats are a regular thing now, huh?" She added jovially, though the navigator was well aware that the tapping could've been morse code.

"Who's this Hugo person, anyway?" She asked, her thoughts still fixated on what the connection between Morgan's scarf and communism was.

"That guy at the stall, handing out the contracts. We used to hang out together back in Holbrook, years ago. I wondered what he'd been doing while I was at Strelanka..."

"Never thought you'd be into crazy." Lysandra glanced at the man handing out the contracts. "Mad crazy, that is."

"Heh. Yeah, the man's an absolute fruitcake, but he's a reliable fruitcake when the going gets tough. Anyway, let's go and -" Morgan's words were cut off as a girl pushed past them and went for Hugo's stall. "Oi, we were next!" the engineer yelled, making her way closer to the front. Could've been a better situation for a reunion after so long, but Morgan gave Hugo a nod of recognition all the same.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Fea Rainglore Character Portrait: Seraphina Celosia Character Portrait: Thomas Aefenleoht Character Portrait: Kai Ember Character Portrait: Maleki Character Portrait: Adris Dasul Character Portrait: Valar Karackson Character Portrait: Elant Weisand Character Portrait: Spotface Character Portrait: Lucious Marder Character Portrait: Hugo Tyrus Character Portrait: VPS-GWF3: Gainsboro Twelve Character Portrait: Morgan Taylor Character Portrait: Lysandra Tyaelly Character Portrait: Alumaruk Ugak
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Hugo quickly leafed through the contracts. After seeing that everything was in order Hugo straightened out the pile with a few quick taps. “A good days work, and nice bundle of fresh heads.” Hugo smiled and let out a deep sigh. From the depths of his pockets Hugo pulled out his bronze pocket watch and flipped it open, 10:45. Hugo quickly snapped it shut and addressed the troll, “You shouldn’t worry about leaving today. I have to run these contracts to the local GMHO office to create the party roster and register everyone here under my jurisdiction and leadership. Now if I can get these contracts in before they close early,we should be able to leave tomorrow morning, tomorrow afternoon at the latest.”

A loud canon of a laugh boomed across the crowd from the back. “Ah but the office is already closed! We decided not to open at all today, after all it is the summer solstice festival!” A large, dark skinned man made his way up to the front. “I could smell the fear and eradicated fantasies from across the city and I knew only one magic hunter could destroy so many hopes and dreams with a few introductory remarks. How the hell have you been?”

The large man grabbed Hugo, hugging, lifting and crushing all at the same time, “You’re crushing me,” the Huntsmaster groaned.

The man released Hugo from his bear hug, “Sorry ‘bout that, I sometimes don’t know my own strength.” Hugo wheezed for air and coughed, “It’s nice to see you too, I see you haven’t lost your touch.”

The large man picked up the stack of contracts and weighed it in his palm. “My, my, I have to say this a larger stack than usual, have you gone soft or have you just lost your touch?”

Hugo avoided the larger man’s inquisitive look and joking smile, “No, I’m just … working with different terms.”

A jovial “Ha” was blasted into the air and the man slapped Hugo across the back, “So what you mean is that HQ decided that you were being too morbid and gave you a recruitment quota. It’s a shame really, it was always entertaining seeing you widdle an entire crowd down to a few candidates.”

The man began looking over the contracts and signed the top contract, “Hey, what the hell are you doing?”

“I’m giving you and your party a speed boost.”

Hugo stared at the man, “I don’t think your signature can threaten to beat people up.” “Well the being the chairman of the Southern Solarian District does add some important weight to my name.” Hugo looked at his friend with shock, “That’s right; gaze upon Chairman Brutus of the GMHO!"

“Wait, your last name is Brutus?”

“No, Brutus is my given name and only name.” Brutus handed back the contracts, “Bring the contracts first thing tomorrow morning and I can guarantee that the office will get the party roster registered within the hour. So enjoy yourself and try to catch the parade. They’re trying make a big show for one of the magi, so it will be fantastic. See ya soon!”

“Fill in all the blanks that ask for your information.” Hugo gave the line jumper a contract and moved her aside, “Hey Morgan, I see you found Felix, I hope he hasn’t tapped anything he shouldn’t have.” Hugo pulled out the remaining contracts, “So I’m assuming you and your friend are here for the sign ups. Cool stuff, just fill out the required spots and we will be —” Hugo was suddenly interrupted by a blast of chilled air as three dark purple pillars of light that came from an expanding pitch black cloud struck the ground a few near the Kriegstein senate. Hugo drew his revolver and scowled, “You have to be shitting me.”

The streets were on fire with black and green flames that flickered from the impact site. The city guards encircled the mass of robed madmen and their ironclad leader. A simple and hollow command echoed from the suit of armor, “Kill them.” A deathly howl rang out from the mass and the mob descended upon the guards like a wave of madness. “Kill them all, kill them in the name of the devourer.” Civilians ran away from the blood thirsty cultists who easily cut them down with their twisted and grotesque blades. “The spell casters and the blood circle is ready. She shall truly have a feast tonight. But, my liege, are you sure they will be able to spill enough blood in order to force the contract?”

A simple and chilling laugh rang from the blackened helm, “If they cannot spill enough, I’m sure that the hot blooded fool will be able to compensate for what will be needed.” “I heard you were talking shit. Dreadlord Ezekiel, it is time for you to atone for your sins against the creations of the life walkers.” The dreadlord turned to face the challenger, “I figured you would show yourself, you sorry excuse for a magi.”

The magi’s face turned crimson red with rage, “This ends now. May your soul burn for all of eternity. Gergamel, GIVE ME STRENGTH!” The magi charged at the dreadlord with a loud and piercing battle cry. After a few minutes of intense fighting the dreadlord jumped back. “Face it Ezechiel, it’s over, you’ve lost!”

A faint chuckle echoed from the dreadlord’s helm, “I would beg to differ; it’s you who has lost.”

The magi stared at the dreadlord in bewilderment, and then it him, he was standing right in the middle of a blood circle. “No, how did you—”

“I’m very careful at spilling my own blood. Well it was fun while it lasted but I’m afraid it's time for you to die. ENCASE!” The magi was suddenly surrounded by ribbons of blood that encircled and bound his body. “May your soul bring nourishment to her body. CRUCIFY!” a large metal spike rose from the ground empaling the magi.

“Damn you Ezech—,” From the sides of the spike shot out two arms that formed the bloody crucifix. The magi’s body squirmed and then exploded into a shower of blood that covered the dreadlord and his spellcasters.

From the mangled corpse emerged the great spirit Gergamel. The spellcasters slammed their staffs into the ground, as the murmured their incantations. Five scarlet ribbons of blood emerged from the bloodied streets and bound the fearful spirit. The dreadlord drew his sword and cut off his right hand. With mock grandeur, he waved the bleeding arm as if he was signing his name on a large sheet of paper. “FORCE CONTRACT!” the spirit howled in pain as its form was being absorbed by the stump of the dreadlord. In a bright flash of light the spirit was gone and the body of the dreadlord was restored. The dreadlord unleashed a maniacal laugh, “I can feel its power course through my veins, my god does this feel wonderful.”

“My liege, would you like to lead the eradication of the city?”

“I have finished my business in this petty sacrifice. Spell casters, we return to our fortress. Message the rest of the group; tell them that they may stay and feast upon the flesh of innocents.” The spell casters nodded and launched a glowing red projectile into the air. The dreadlord raised his sword into the air and they disappeared into the smoky haze, while his minions bore down on city, leaving trails of blood and half eaten corpses.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Fea Rainglore Character Portrait: Seraphina Celosia Character Portrait: Thomas Aefenleoht Character Portrait: Kai Ember Character Portrait: Maleki Character Portrait: Adris Dasul Character Portrait: Valar Karackson Character Portrait: Elant Weisand Character Portrait: Spotface Character Portrait: Lucious Marder Character Portrait: Hugo Tyrus Character Portrait: VPS-GWF3: Gainsboro Twelve Character Portrait: Morgan Taylor Character Portrait: Lysandra Tyaelly Character Portrait: Alumaruk Ugak
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June 21--10:45 AM
Kergstien, Solarian Empire


Watching the two men bicker with each other, Thomas sighed and looked around; it was still morning, so the hours would go by slowly. "Well, we'll have plenty of time to kill, eh?" he murmured. "Well. I'll be over there, giving my Fans the encore they wanted. If you need me, please wait until the show's over." And he began to walk away, back to where the box of puppets was waiting.

Immediately, the fans cheered, but there were still questions running around about his joining the Magic Hunters. Would they ever give him a rest about it? Thomas sighed and raised his hands to obtain his fans' attention. "I have only decided to seek out the Magic for the good of our Solarian Empire, my friends, as well as our allies across Valderia. That is the best Fan Service...no, the best service at all I could give to this land." Of course, it sounded rather hollow to him, but he tried to ignore that.

However, the puppets had barely risen out of his box when a cold wind burst past him and his fans, causing some to lose their footing--even Thomas had to grab onto the edge of the box to steady himself. Looking up, he saw three pillars of dark purple pillars of light emitting from further down the street, as black clouds swirled high above the city. "What the hell--?"

His bracelet flashed, and he raised it to hear Michael's voice. Most of his fans were looking in the other direction, pointing and gasping in horror at this new spectacle, so he was in no danger of being observed by them. "Thomas, I don't know what's going on, but a great quantity of powerful magic signatures dropped into that area. Something big and bad is happening."

"I can see that, Michael," the puppeteer hissed. Pointing at the puppets, he gestured towards the box, and they flew towards it--but instead of putting themselves away, they instead picked up swords, shields, and spears. "You can do whatever you want--I'm going to ensure my fans are safe," Thomas declared firmly.

Pointing in the other direction, he ordered the crowd of his admirers to head off, and turned back towards the pillars of dark light, as his puppets began to assemble themselves in front of him in defensive postures. "But, man...this is terrifying. It's like a freaking apocalypse right now..." Suddenly, Thomas thought he could see figures clad in dark robes murdering and mutilating all who were unfortunate enough to get caught up in the chaos. Cold sweat dripped down the back of his neck; it now seemed apparent that he was about to be swept up into something terrible.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Fea Rainglore Character Portrait: Seraphina Celosia Character Portrait: Thomas Aefenleoht Character Portrait: Kai Ember Character Portrait: Maleki Character Portrait: Spotface Character Portrait: Kiska Character Portrait: Hugo Tyrus Character Portrait: VPS-GWF3: Gainsboro Twelve Character Portrait: Chael Walcott Character Portrait: Morgan Taylor Character Portrait: Heryth Character Portrait: Lysandra Tyaelly Character Portrait: Alumaruk Ugak Character Portrait: Sky
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#, as written by Legate
Valar could only watch, stunned as the scene unfolded before him. He had never before seen such use of magic, so much and so potent. However as soon as the mages vanished he realized that the cultists were still there and they were butchering civilians. He got up on the fountain.

"ALRIGH! LISTEN UP! Those of you with medical expertise or healing power stay by the fountain we'll set up a casualty collection point right here. MARKSMEN! Get some height. You can take out targets and call out points of contact to everyone else. EVERYONE ELSE! Pair up, if you can't fight, find someone who can, or stay here and help the wounded. This is not a drill, lets get it right the first time."

People seemed to snap out of their daze and started to jump to what he told them. He stabbed his finger at the girl with the red scar f and her friend because they seemed to be the only two with rifles. "You two, sharpshooters? With me." He said and started moving towards the tower of a nearby tower. "One of you up there, point and call the shots." Myself and the other will be down on the rooves relaying that to the other parties."

He moved off to his own rooftops. Squeezing off shots as he ran. All of a sudden he was blindsided by a huge hit. He rolled losing his rifle and wound up with a cultist on top of him. They rolled through the street Valar holding a knife away from his face while the slavering cultist tried to plunge it into his eye. He snapped the cultists arm out to the side and headbutted him breaking his nose. After that the cultists insane strength seemed to ebb and Valar picked him up and threw him against a post breaking his spine. What the hell was that?! No way a cultist that small should have been able to over power him, they had the strength of 3 men having been empowered from the magi's.

He got onto his roof and started directing the magic hunters to target clusters.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Fea Rainglore Character Portrait: Seraphina Celosia Character Portrait: Thomas Aefenleoht Character Portrait: Kai Ember Character Portrait: Maleki Character Portrait: Adris Dasul Character Portrait: Valar Karackson Character Portrait: Elant Weisand Character Portrait: Spotface Character Portrait: Lucious Marder Character Portrait: Kiska Character Portrait: Hugo Tyrus Character Portrait: VPS-GWF3: Gainsboro Twelve Character Portrait: Chael Walcott Character Portrait: Morgan Taylor Character Portrait: Heryth Character Portrait: Lysandra Tyaelly Character Portrait: Alumaruk Ugak
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After giving a bit more of thoughts, Adris had enough about the GMHO. From what he heard and from what he thought, he wasn’t quite convinced to give into a suicidal activity. Besides, he already had something to occupy himself. His job won’t do it itself. Despite that, he decided to enjoy more of the summer solstice festival. He did enjoy it so far; the scent, the colors, the joy in the air and all made his somewhat happy.

He would walk down the streets a bit blindly, but with a small smile on his face. When he found himself down to a plaza. He saw a fountain and walked up to it. He cupped his hand into the water, and bring it close to his face. He needed to hydrate himself after all. Once he threw his head back from this, he heard screams of terror. He looked around as the people looked all at the same direction and pointed up. He did the same. He could no feel the blast of chilled air and the three dark purple pillars of light. He didn’t like this at all.

He turned to the civilians: “Run away! For Sele’s sake, Run!” The civilians look at him in terror first, completely frozen, but it is when he pulled out his gun that they started to run away. Adris sighed, looking back at the spires, then the fountain. He knew something wasn’t right. However, he waited for a bit, making sure it wasn’t just a show the solstice put up.

His confirmation came when some people got out of the streets and some cultist went to feed on them. Adris’ eyes widened a bit, but stayed calm. He looked up at the fountain and bit his lips. He then draw his gun to the cultist and in a swift movement he would press on the trigger, a bullet went direction into the cultist’s head. The mother of the group looked terrified to the deaths of her husband as she held her children close. Adris noticed her to move away, which she did.

Once it was clear, he would bring back his attention to the water. He rose his hands from it. “May my actions won’t be looked upon.” He soon gathered all the water into a giant mass of water. It almost covered all the plaza. He let out a scream of pain as it was hard to keep it in control. He soon threw it towards the spires, which in consequence made waves into the streets. He hoped that his actions would wipe any or those creatures out of the place, and eventually die of drowning. He felt lighter and tired. He reached for his water bottle, which he drank from it. He wasn’t sure what his attack caused for damage.

Afterward, he decided to see if there anybody left around. He started to walk fast since it is the most he could do now. He still heard screams of terror and pain in which helped him to know where they might be. He soon gave up and climbed on some boxes, which stacked to a roof top. From there he would take one of his gun and aim down towards the mass of noise. His vision was a bit blurred and his aim wasn’t very good. Despite that, he still took the risk as he shoot towards the mass of cultist, noticing that he wasn’t sure if any of his shoots reached them. After he emptied his magazines, he would fall unconscious there with his exhaustion finally reaching him.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Valar Karackson Character Portrait: Spotface Character Portrait: Morgan Taylor Character Portrait: Lysandra Tyaelly
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#, as written by Byte
Things had gone from a mediocre day in the city, to an apocalyptic dilemma in a matter of seconds. Lysandra had barely managed to read through the contract she was handed before a cold, eerie wind sent a shiver up her spine that was shortly followed by a display of sinister magic that struck down from the black clouds above the city.

“I do hate days like these.” Lysandra murmured with a clear frown directed at the troubles ahead. “I'm guessing this isn't part of the parade?” She asked nobody in particular, a hand already clenched around the belt strapped to the navigator's rifle.

Morgan unslung her assault rifle and took stock of the battlefield. These cultists were still some distance away, but they were getting closer. The engineer was about to provide some fire support for the melee fighters when a Nord started bellowing orders at the duo as if he owned the place. Said Nord promptly ran off and almost got himself killed. By a single cultist, no less.

"Dunno about you, but I ain't gonna put my faith in that guy," she said to Lysandra. "We'd be better off sticking together and giving the lads a bit of help from here."

"Aye, ma'am." Lysandra replied jokingly as she took stance next to Morgan, unslinging her rifle from her back. "I don't like being given orders, anyway." The navigator lined up the scope with her eyes in preperation for the oncoming march of cultists. While Lysandra preferred her katana in these chaotic situations, she wasn't willing to charge blindly into a group of magic users lest she get blown to bits by a surprise fireball up the strap.

Firing short, controlled bursts into the howling mob before them, Morgan managed to kill a good number of cultists. Those that fell, whether dead or merely wounded, were trampled underneath the rest. Neither of the two had fought anything like this before, but they did what they could to help the others from afar and provide covering fire for civilians that were fleeing for their very lives.

As the battle raged on, a small group of cultists had somehow made it past the melee and were almost upon Morgan and Lysandra. However, in the nick of time, a goblin riding a runaway cart zoomed past, mowing down the would-be attackers. The engineer shouted her thanks to the little greenskin before scanning the surroundings once more.

"We should start falling back about now, get someplace safer than here," said Morgan.

The navigator allowed her rifle to lower down, her body turning to face Morgan, briefly. "Agreed. We better get to higher, or at the very least more secure grounds."

"Does anyone know of such a place?" Lysandra asked, once more raising the scope of her rifle to her eyes and carefully picking off the never-ending onslaught of crazed cultists one by one.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Fea Rainglore Character Portrait: Seraphina Celosia Character Portrait: Kai Ember Character Portrait: Maleki Character Portrait: Adris Dasul Character Portrait: Valar Karackson Character Portrait: Elant Weisand Character Portrait: Spotface Character Portrait: Lucious Marder Character Portrait: Hugo Tyrus Character Portrait: VPS-GWF3: Gainsboro Twelve Character Portrait: Morgan Taylor Character Portrait: Val Character Portrait: Lysandra Tyaelly Character Portrait: Alumaruk Ugak
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Fear, blood, flesh, and chaos. Truly this effigy and orgy of violence should appease her. The three cultists relished themselves in the moment as they approached the closing gates. The guardsmen unleashed a hail of gunfire to slow their advance as they desperately moved to close the massive gates. With a loud clang the gates were sealed and the remaining guards men beckoned their comrades on the top of the gates to let down the escape lines. Panic quickly turned to desperation as the three cultist showed no signs of stopping, even though they should have been very dead. The center cultists smiled and stopped his brethren, “Leave these pathetic mortals to me.” The other two stepped back and smiled as they watched the blubbering guards screamed for their comrades to save them.

The cultist’s eyes began glowing a deep red as the flesh under his skin began squirming. The pain from his bones realigning themselves was gut wrenching and he could feel the skin strain to contain the rapidly growing muscle. The cultist unleashed an ear piercing cry which was drowned out by rising blood as the skin burst open to make way for his new and terrifying body. He was now a large and bulky testament to limitless strength and raw flesh with arms that were twice their original size. The guards trembled in terror as the crimson mass charged through their new hail of bullets unscathed. The hulking beast tore them apart as if they were made of soggy tissues and disposed of their mutilated bodies in his gaping mouth.

The behemoth wiped the blood from his mouth and turned to face the massive steel crucifix that occupied the center of the city, “Do you think there is more flesh to consume near the ground zero?” “Of course, now lets get there before the others eat more than their own share.”

They were oh so close, but the pack must have caught their scent. Just one more block to the crucifix and to the rendezvous point. Brutus shoved the shotgun into the cultist's mouth and unloaded both rounds. The cultist's head exploded, releasing a torrent of blood and brains. Brutus reached into the opened head cavity and ripped out a strange throbbing organ. Brutus stared at it for a short while and crushed it in his hand. The body of the cultist suddenly burst into harmless green fire and all remnants of the cultist vanished without a trace. Brutus smirked and turned turned to his personal kill team, "Make sure you destroy their synapse or they won’t stay dead for long.”

Brutus ejected the two shell as he walked up to the cold and bloody steel crucifix that towered above him. “It’s a damn shame, he was the better man. He deserved better than this.” One of the remaining veteran hunters ran up to him, “Sir the city has been sealed and word is that the purge squads are already on their way.” Brutus scowled as he reloaded,

“Well is the train company holding true to their word?” The veteran nodded, “The Eleven O’clock will be fifteen minutes late, but it will it still arrive. They said that the longer we can hold the station the longer the train will wait. But chairman, are you sure about the deal with the governor, he could use go back on his word and prevent the train from leaving the city.” Brutus smiled, “I doubt he will, after all he will want us alive to fulfill our end of the bargain. Where’s Tellus? We need to hook up to the city broadcasting system.” The veteran hung his head, “He’s dead, got nailed by a bone spike.” Brutus’s eyes widened, “They’re already shifting? Well god damn, they’re getting better at mutating themselves. Well is the radio still intact?”

The veteran nodded and handed Brutus the microphone, “Tellus hooked it all up before he bled out, he said that we needed to get the message out.” Brutus sighed, “Let’s not let his death be in vain,” Brutus turned to face the remaining Hunters with him, “Remember guys the survivors won’t be the only ones hearing it, so lets be prepared for the worst.” Brutus raised the microphone to his mouth and waited for the operator to give him the go ahead, “Attention all living members of the intelligent races,” Brutus paused to listen his voice being echoed and projected by the city.

“Due to the presence of a dark cult the city has been sealed off and placed under quarantine. All gates have been sealed and a magical barrier has been placed around the city preventing any other means of conventional escape. That being said there will be an escape vessel arriving at the central train station within thirty minutes. Due to the violent nature of the cult the train will not be able to stay for very long, that is why we recommend that all survivors make their way to the central station as quickly as possible. To all hunters and contractees, protocol twenty-four has been invoked and the Solarians will be handling the extermination. Utmost caution is recommended against all cultists and it is best to avoid to engagement. And remember, it isn’t dead if the body is still there.”

Hugo quickly gathered his things and hung the heating mechanism on his waist. Felix hopped off Morgan’s shoulder and stared at Hugo, “So what’s the plan?” Hugo inserted a mana canister into the the heater and slung his duffle bag over his shoulder. “The main goal is to get out of the city and not die.”

Hugo pulled out his grenade pistol and picked up one of the supposed corpse. Hugo shoved the pistol into the mouth of the cultist and fired, completely destroying the head. The body soon dissolved into a green flame and Hugo put his away the pistol,

“Hope you folks were paying attention, cause shit just got real. For those who aren't familiar with the concept of quarantine and or the significance of protocol twenty-four allow me to explain. It means that the whole of the designated area will be sealed off and due to protocol twenty-four, the entire hazard area will be deemed a dead zone and all living organisms within the dead zone will be made dead.”

“Usually the GMHO takes care of the extermination, but unluckily for us the Solarians are taking charge. Which means we have to get the hell out of this city. Of course you can test your luck and stay. But in the end you will have make a choice. Do want to be eaten alive or do you want to be incinerated. But hey if dying a horrible death is really your thing then fine by me, I ain’t gonna judge. But for those of you who want to live I recommend that you listen to my every direction. The central train station is about ten blocks from where we stand, we will be able to get there before the train arrives if we don’t attract too much attention. It’s best to leave now this area now while the cultists divert their attention. Gather your things and make sure we’re not leaving anyone behind, after all there is safety in numbers.”

Setting

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Character Portrait: Morgan Taylor Character Portrait: Lysandra Tyaelly
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As Morgan and Lysandra fell back, they witnessed some of the cultists changing, morphing into more horrific forms with inhuman strength. As if that wasn't enough, those that had fallen earlier were picking themselves back up, seemingly even more eager to throw themselves into the fray. It looked like the defenders were going to be overwhelmed if things kept up like this. Just then, loudspeakers around the city coughed into life and delivered a message to those who were still alive. As it turned out, the situation really was as bad as it seemed. Those who wouldn't be able to get out in time were going to burn along with the city and the cultists unless they made it to the train station, and the duo weren't about to let themselves get left behind.

Putting away the assault rifle, Morgan drew her caster instead and flicked the safety catch off, watching the runes on the barrel start to glow a dull orange. If they were forced to fight, then it was probably better to use something other than mundane bullets. "Can you see any signs for that train station?" the engineer asked her friend.

"You got a pair of eyes yourself, haven't you?" Lysandra answered in the midst of crippling another cultist before her arm slung the rifle onto her shoulder and reached for the hilt of her katana in a single, fluent motion.

"It's just a bit further down the road, I think." She said. Turning to face Morgan, the navigator jerked her head in a way that said "Let's go".

"Right. Let's keep our heads down and make sure we don't get followed by any of those... things." Taking cover behind some debris from the battle, the duo opted to try and make their way out of the battle relatively undetected. With some of the magic hunters having drawn the cultists' attention, getting out of the town square proved to be somewhat easier than anticipated.

"Can't believe they're desperate enough to initiate something as insane as complete extermination." Lysandra exclaimed, silently following behind Morgan. "It's sickening." The navigator felt her stomach turn at the thought of innocent civilians, left to fend for themselves as their supposed 'leaders' simply decided to purge the place and anyone still in there. "We could try the alleyways, it'd take longer but at least we wouldn't get ambushed by cannibals."

"I bloody hope not, or else we'd be mincemeat," the engineer muttered as she followed Lysandra through the alleyways. The long route definitely seemed the most safe, and surprisingly quick. The duo swiftly navigated their way through the many alleyways, ensuring no cultists would pick up on their position and charge in on them like a group of flesh-devouring pacmen.

Lysandra jutted a finger at the empty road ahead, signs of their ticket out slowly creeping into sight. "C'mon, we're nearly-"

As if from nowhere, a lone cultist got the jump on the navigator who had braced herself for a counterattack. Burning, crimson-red eyes and a devilish grin loomed from within the shadows that obscured all other facial features. Staring... Grinning... Eager to chew on living flesh. The woman flinched, as this very image struck a fear that desperately held onto her mind. The cultist swept the katana out of Lysandra's hands and subsequently pounced at her with sheer force, bringing both assailants to the cobblestone ground below.

Lysandra felt the razor-sharp piercing of teeth sinking into the flesh of her upper arm as she struggled to fend off the savage beast- Nay, 'demon' was a far more adequate description. The navigator howled out in pain, barely managing to shove her attacker off of her after giving it a good couple of punches square in the jaw. With the remaining ounce of strength and will left in her body, she crawled away from the cultist, watching in shock as it attempted to attack yet again.

Taking her cue, Morgan fired her caster at the cultist once Lysandra had put enough distance between herself and the brute. A bolt of fire erupted from the barrel, hitting the cultist right in the torso as he got up, which knocked him back down again. But Morgan was far from finished. Moving closer, the engineer fired another shot at his prone form, this time aimed at the head. There was little left of the cranium that hadn't been turned to ash, and soon enough, the rest of the body started to quickly burn away in green fire. Asides from the navigator's injury, there was no sign the cultist had ever been here.

With that out of the way, Morgan turned to Lysandra to see how bad the wound was. "You okay, Lissy? The wound can't be that deep. You'll live, right?" Morgan knew it was just a flesh wound, but there was no keeping the fear out of her voice. They'd expected the alleyways to be more or less pain sailing, and they'd just been ambushed because of it.

Lysandra instantly clamped herself against Morgan with her free hand, heaving as her eyes shifted from her wound to her companion. She felt tears trickling down her cheek as she tried to speak, but could only stammer out a few words. "I-I... don't... know." She whispered, not daring to break eye contact to assess the damage. Having been given a close look at what was invading the city, Lysandra was desperate, now more than ever, to get the hell out.

Morgan had never seen her friend so afraid before. Well, neither of them had ever had to fight off anything like the cultists before, either. The engineer was scared, of course, but she did her best to put on a brave face until they were out of the city. Taking charge of the situation, Morgan held out Lysandra's injured arm to get a look at the wound. Since they didn't have any bandages on them to stem the bleeding, the engineer made do with ripping one of Lysandra's sleeves and wrapping it round the girl's arm. There were no proper medical supplies, but at least it was a clean bit of fabric keeping the blood in.

"Come on, let's get out of here. You said the station was this way, right?" Seeing the navigator give a silent nod of confirmation, Morgan led the way this time, making sure that Lysandra was keeping up with her. Once they exited the alleyways, the two of them made a mad dash for the station, which was still standing against the cultists.

"Don't shoot! We ain't one of them!" yelled Morgan. After all they'd been through, it would've been just plain daft to let the guards mistake them for cultists.

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Character Portrait: Hugo Tyrus Character Portrait: Morgan Taylor Character Portrait: Val Character Portrait: Lysandra Tyaelly
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Hugo strained his eyes to see the approaching figure. “Oh, it’s you berry boy. Did your lover ditch you?”

Michael nearly fell over with exasperation. "For the last time, he's my br-" But he never got to finish that sentence.

Hugo smiled and lowered the revolver, “You best stick with us, unless you want to get your throat ripped out.” Hugo pulled out the map and quickly looked it over, “Now the exit should be close, its just a manhole away.” Hugo rolled up the map and tucked it away, “By the way, I heard lots of splashing, do you have friends with you?"

Looking back, Michael couldn't see anything coming from the passageway behind him. "Well, I did hear someone entering the manhole earlier. But there's a cultist in here as well. I tried sealing him in stone, but he might break out. We should probably get going soon."

It was quiet near the southern barricade. Sure they could hear the chaos up ahead, but they couldn't quite see it. The approach to the barricade wound through tight streets and the two hunters hadn’t seen or sensed anything come close. The smaller of the two hunters twitched as a small impulse reached his head, “Something’s coming.” The two hunters drew their weapons as they readied themselves. "Don't shoot! We ain't one of them!" screamed one of two rapidly approaching women.

The two hunters looked at each other and snickered, “Shooting people with axes. That’s rich.” The larger of the two set down his axe and smiled, “So how’s the approach? You guys are the only living things to come near this barricade and it has to been at least fifteen minutes since the message started playing.” The smaller hunter quickly looked over the two girls wrists and nodded to the other guard. “Looks like you guys are clean, and don’t worry. You fellas are safe now.” The nearby manhole cover suddenly catapulted into a building. The guards quickly lifted their weapons and prepared for battle,

“SURPRISE!” Hugo shot his head out from the sewer system, “How ya folks doing.” Hugo pulled himself, the badger man, and the very berried haired boy out as well. The two guards kept their weapons up and Hugo quickly pulled up his sleeves to show his wrists. “Look see, I’m clean, ain’t got an ounce of infection on me.”

“What about them?”

“They’re clean too.” The two guards glared at Hugo who rolled his eyes. “Well I’m sure you can already see the badger’s wrists and I’m sure the pink haired boy would be happy to show you his wrists.” Promptly, Michael rolled up his sleeves and removed the bracelet on his left wrist. There was nothing of interest on them. The two guards sighed and lowered their weapons, “I know it’s protocol, but do you really think the blood cult is going to start infecting people with the plague? ‘Cause it would be like them tainting their own meals with a dangerous poison.” The two hunters shrugged, “Well whatever, you guys are good to go.” “Damn right we are.”

There was an eerie and quiet drone occupying the train station as Hugo passed the small groups of survivors who were waiting to board the train. A small troupe of veteran hunters blocked off the cars saying that the train had to finish unloading.The train was a brass masterwork from the Aulrailian golden age. “Isn’t she beautiful?” Hugo nodded in agreement with the engineer, “She’s a brawler class locomotive mech. I have seen her do amazing things in my lifetime. Shame that she’s been reduced to manual labor.” The train groaned and steamed as it slowly unloaded large black boxes that rocked and moaned from the car behind.
Supervising this was a man clad in a long bellowing robe that seemed to glisten in the sun. He looked like he was his mid-twenties, but his eyes looked like they had live a thousand lifetimes. His right hand tightly clutched a large metal staff that was mounted by a large mechanical eye that shifted and searched for all things evil. "Tick tock hunters, the cargo is getting restless."

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Character Portrait: Fea Rainglore Character Portrait: Hugo Tyrus Character Portrait: Morgan Taylor Character Portrait: Val Character Portrait: Lysandra Tyaelly
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~Fera

Fera had no idea as to what the hell had happened. One minute there was peace in the city, and she was now a Huntress, this gave her something to do, and the opportunity for food. The next, the whole city went to hell, and she was told to flee to a train that was leaving soon. What a nice day, isn't it? As soon as Fera gained her bearings, she fled towards what she knew was the train station. Never once until the next moments, was the little Kindred happier that she was a rabbit Kindred, rather than being a fox or something. She moved gracefully, and quickly away from the hell-zone she was standing in. She drew her bow, for safety as she ran, evading as many persons as she could. Yet she noticed something, rather bad. A huge amount of cultists were in front of her, this made her blood crawl as she stopped on her heels. She fired one arrow hitting the one that may have seen her in the eye, a lucky shot. Before she could even see if the cultist died, Fera disappeared. She landed into what she presumed was the sewers. Nice. Immediately her ears picked up sloshing echoing in the isles, and then a familiar voice, the man from the table. Fera felt a little safer if she were close to him, thus she darted in his direction, the water slowed her down quite a bit, but she was fast enough to catch up within a few minutes of the sound. At least, she hoped that she could.

After a decent time of running she had caught up with the man, she slowed now, not because she was close, but from exhaustion. Soon Fera spoke towards the voices, hoping that she wouldn't be killed immediately, "I-I'm here... Sorry... For being a little... Late..." she said, her cloak hiding her fully, though her bow was sheathed over her torso and her staff was on her back, not like that would do anything anyway. Slowly, Fera approached the small group rather calmly, hoping she wouldn't have to run farther.