0
followers
follow

Mahdi

Mahdi

0 · 99 views · located in The Abandoned Slums

a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by Vyral

Description

Name: Mahdi
Alias: Idris [undecided]
Gender: Male
Nationality: American Citizen
Place of Birth: Acre, Israel
Ethnicity: Arabic

Lycanthropy:

This strain of lycanthropy is an infliction which is passed from animal to animal via the introduction of bodily fluids (such as saliva or blood) in sufficient enough quantity to create a growing viral infection in the victim. The new lycanthrope will not suffer their first change until their first lunar cycle has been completed with the first change taking place on the night of the full moon. This change is compulsory and uncontrollable and results in both a psychological break and a physical restructuring of the body as the infection takes ahold. Both bone and muscle density increases, allowing for greater all around fortitude and an increased organ capacity. The lycanthropes canines elongate partially and alongside all teeth, grow partially in size. A lycanthropes hair tends to grow quickly. Aside from the physical changes, the change brings about a surfacing of more instictual and 'feral' behaviour, something that can interfere heavily in everyday life and takes time to control.

Lycanthropes are possessed of great fortitude and celerity. They are many times stronger, faster and physically tougher than any human. They can survive and recuperate from wounds that would normally mean certain death for the average mortal, stretching from a strengthed immune system to the mending of broken bones. A lycanthrope is possessed of heigthened senses ranging from eyesight to taste - oft as not, however, a tolerable sound to a human can become intolerable to a young, or surprised lycanthrope. All the 'benefits' of lycanthropy are exaggerated even futher while transformed. Alongside the growth in phsyical size and prowess, their senses and athletic ability becomes truly formidable. So do, does the presence of their 'beast' half, which struggles against the concious control of the human heart, always desiring to be free.

This strain allows the infected to change at will. It is however affected by lunar tides. The younger the lycanthrope the more a full moon will compel them to change, and the longer they will remain a lycan once they give in. Even when 'human', a lycanthrope at the height of the lunar cycle will find their more animalistic qualities coming to the fore. Conversely, a young lycan may find it more difficult to change on command at the opposite end of the lunar cycle.

As the lycanthrope ages they will inevitably change frequently, compelled to do so by its very nature. Over time, these changes exact a permament change on the infected both physically and mentally. They can begin to represent the beast within, manifesting animalistic qualities and behaviours even while the beast is caged within.

Description:

Mahdi is visibly of arabic descent. He is tall with borad shoulders, but an otherwise slim build. He keeps his dark hair cropped close to his scalp, the same length as the few days growth of stubble on his face and neck. In keeping with his Middle Eastern heritidge his eyes are a deep brown colour a few shades lighter than his hair. His nose is slightly too large, but his face is otherwise fairly symetrical, plain but not boring. He bears no tattoos, piercings or scars.


Biography:

Born in Acre, Israel Mahdi was the third child of an impoverished family, a citizen of Acre's growing underclass. The pressure of nearing Western Crusaders meant that more and more people were flooding towards the cities in search of protection and security. Mahdi were no exception to this wave of immigrants, all of whom arrived to find that the city could not sustain so many hungry mouths. The family, and the city, survived mainly due to the wealth brought in by its port. Mahdi had reached his late teenage years by the time he contracted lycanthropy. The accepted story is that while unloading cargo on a newly arrived merchant vessel where a sick crewmate, supposedly inflicted with scurvy, attacked Mahdi. In 1189 Acre was besieged by the armies of the Crusaders. The city starved slowly, crumbling from the inside out. Famine tore apart the impoverished. It took two years for the city to drop too its knees. With the siege successful, the Crusaders held each Muslim citizen as a hostage with which to negotiate. When talks began to falter, the towns former citizens were executed one by one. At the time of the siege Mahdi had been struggling with his lycanthropy for only three lunar cycles, and he maintained his secrecy only by luck. The siege only tightened the net in which the beast roamed, and by the time the Crusaders climbed the walls he was already chained in the cities jailhouse, ready to be executed. The Crusaders saw this truth for themselves. They too feared him, but their curiosity outweighed any hesitation they felt. So it was that Mahdi found himself aboard a galley bound for Cyprus. Chained up in the vessels bowels, provoked and jeered at through the bars of his cell. The ship never reached the port for which is was bound. It's remains were found some time later wrecked off the islands coast. No trace of Mahdi was ever again recorded during the Crusades.

Alone, frightened and unable to care for himself Mahdi succumbed to the lure of the beast within. He travelled, hunted, lived as a beast for much of the following decades. Increasingly he became feral, withdrawing more and more into himself. He would avoid signs of human life, afraid and intimidated by their presence. He moved only when humans strayed too close or prey learnt better than to inhabit the same forests in which he slept. When he moved, he moved west. It was in Germany that Mahdi first met others of his kind. It was the scent that drew him in; it wasn't something he recognized, but he knew it instinctively. On some repressed level of his former self, perhaps he craved the company after so long along. It drew him closer to a town than he had been since he had left Acre.

He had lived the average humans life time before he came across another of his kin, and this time, it was a pack. It was in France, a woodlands near a small settlement fifteen miles from the Italian border. This time, they had sought out him. When he caught their scents he had panicked, expected to be attack once again. Only it never came. What entered his house that night was a trio of men, clean, shaven and polite. It was something of a revelation for Mahdi, a small miracle. He had others now, with whom he could share his pains. Talk to openly. Even to hunt with, knowing that the others would prevent anyone else from going too far. It was the first time that Mahdi had experienced the lycanthropy as anything but a curse. It was a shame, then, that it could not last forever. A long time had passed. Long enough for the four men to grow close, closer perhaps than family, to loose enough of their old selves that their new life became their self. Until someone discovered their secret. Until the panic spread and frightened men and women came with burning torches, swords, pitchforks and axes. Mahdi was the sole survivor, and a bitter one.

It sparked off a dark time in his life. The first time he had killed a man it had been in fear for his life, and in later years he has accepted this. The second time, and too many times after that, he killed out of hatred. A hatred of men, whom took away his family. Whom hunt him because of an infection, a disease. It was worse because he never slipped back into the feral state of his early changes; he was conscious, deliberate. He hunted man, as man had hunted him. A small, whispering part of him enjoyed it. It is that, perhaps, which Mahdi remembers. That which makes him somber on cold nights alone. That, which drives him now to strive for better. It took a long time for the anger to stop, to falter to a point where he stepped back and looked at what he had done. What he was. He wishes he could point out a catalyst that changed him, but there was none. It was time that weathered him down, time that blunted his rage. If not for time, perhaps nothing at all would have changed. Thankfully, for his soul most of all, time went by.

It took Mahdi a long time to feel human again. He could never forget the things he had done, could not live with it. Yet, he was too afraid to die. Too shameful to take his life and end it. So he struggled. He climbed out of the hole he had dug for himself and began living again. Hesitantly, haphazardly, in a world he hardly recognized any more. Time worked its magic. He began to accept his actions in the past, if not forgive them. Atonement was his goal. Is, his goal. Centuries passed in this pursuit. Centuries in which he tried to better himself. He travelled, listened, learned, observed. He met others of his kind. Often they were feral, wild. A danger to others, to themselves. Those, he began to silence quietly. The others, those more human than beast, he stayed with some time. A time always came where he had to move on, though. To walk the lonely roads again.

So he finds himself in the modern age. Wing City. In his life Mahdi has done many things. Many are good. As many are bad. It has become his goal to unify his kin, to draw them together to form not just a pack,but a society. A family. He aims for peace, for an end to questions, the wandering. An end to the struggle between beast and man. Perhaps, now, at last, he has accepted that to struggle is futile. That in centuries of being alive, he has yet to live.

[Details added as I go]

Pack:

[New additions are welcome.]

- Mahdi
- Amelia Duvloc

So begins...

Mahdi's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mahdi

0.00 INK

#, as written by Vyral
Mahdi stopped when the gypsy camp came into view. Sunlight had just begun filtering through the woods, dappling the distance with the bright fabrics hanging on the vardos. It was early in the day. What few people he saw were still stumbling through the camp with just-woken disorientation. Though the wind was not chill to his skin, Mahdi tugged his heavy coat tighter around his shoulders and buried the lower half of his face into the grey scarf wrapped around his neck. Beneath the bleakly-dyed layers he was sweltering but he suspected things might go smoother if they thought him nothing more than a wanderer. The rumours he had heard were troubling.

Word had spread earlier in the month about trouble in the woods. Wild beasts attacking men who strayed too deep at night. Mahdi listened; the signs were familiar. Sure enough the talk turned to a man-beast, a halfbreed between a human and a monster. It had killed, the rumours whispered. Then came the more troubling rumours. The gypsies were attempted to craft a cure. They had begun testing. Mahdi had seen the results of such things before. He had never seen success. He feared that the gypsies did not understand the curse that was upon them. He found it oddly ironic. Whatever the truth to the rumours was, he could wait no longer to find out. A feral wolf could not be allowed to roam free, it drew too much attention to the others. Those like himself. Then there was the gypsies. They, he would have to watch. Too often cures became compulsory. Lethal.

Mahdi felt cold. It had little to do with the wind, though. He trudged onwards, nearing the awakening camp.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mahdi

0.00 INK

#, as written by Vyral
Mahdi's eyes were met with cold glances. Even those were sparing; most simply busied themselves on the other side of the camp. He caught sight of a few children peering from behind the edge of a curtain, only to disappear as quickly as they had come. A horse whinnied as he passed it; either it too felt the atmosphere or it could smell his scent, swaddled as it was beneath his clothing. Animals always knew, somehow. The camp was large; disorganized to his eyes. All he had to work on was a rumour, and even that was just a rumour of another. He slipped his scarf beneath his chin and sniffed the air delicately. Woodsmoke, drifting slowly from the other end of the camp. No doubt in preparation for breakfast. A faint waft of perfume permeating the stronger smell of sweat and horse. Over it all he could smell the overbearing stink of the Cursed Wood. True to name, the smell did not please. He covered his face again, partly to obscure his features, but mostly to blot out the smell of the woods. He turned towards the smell of smoke and continued walking. Perhaps there he would find more people. Perhaps they would talk.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mahdi

0.00 INK

#, as written by Vyral
Mahdi studied the woman carefully. Her eyes were bright. He would trust her, he decided. Though a voice reminded him that he had little choice but to do so. Noone else had been forthcoming. He tugged his scarf away from his mouth and scratched his stubble. It was a pleasant feeling, one that relaxed his nerves.

"I take no offence." Despite his clear Middle East origins, his accent was vaguely European. A clear baritone. "I'm looking for someone. A friend of a friend. I have no name, my friend is vague, forgetful," he lifts his hands and gives a slight shrug of the shoulders, almost indistinguishable beneath the bulk of his cloak. "He tells me his friend is a quiet one, his friend does not keep so much company with the others, perhaps. The friend sells things, cures for ailments are the such, perhaps." He smiles apologetically, careful to keep his lips over the points of his canines. "I am as vague as my friend, I know. I must ask, though; do you know of such a person?"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mahdi

0.00 INK

#, as written by Vyral
Mahdi nodded, still pulling an apologetic face. If it was the women that sold the cures then he would start there. They might know where the rumours ended. Perhaps he would kill two birds with one stone. That would make a fine morning. He regarded the gypsy woman carefully then allowed his eyes to roa the camp beyond. It was still quiet; he saw few woman.

"My friend assures me that his friend will be here, still. He has heard word of her in recent days; too recent for her to have been gone so long." Mahdi paused, unsure of exactly how much he should say to the woman. A friendly face could quickly turn hostile when faced with a wolf in a mans body. She could even be one of those he sought; either a wolf in a womans body, or a woman who sold cures. He stared into her eyes, but today the windows to the soul gave no answers.

"Urgent? Yes. My friend said so. He would not say why. Embarrassed, perhaps, perhaps not. He is a... frivolous man, you might say. You might say he urgency is his problem. He hears of things that might help relax him. Herbs, plants. He tells me some. Opiets, dried roots, wolfsbane, powers and pills. The names are foreign to my mind. They do not come easy to my mouth." He shrugs again. Inside, he wonders if he has said too much.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mahdi

0.00 INK

#, as written by Vyral
Mahdi nodded. She was not fond of Ileana, he thought. Or perhaps she was afraid of the woman. The way she swallowed hard, how she glanced towards the relative safety of the western vardos suggested such to him. This Ileana would be a good place to start. If the rumours were true he would expect an outsider. He saw no greater outsider to this camp than the tiny vardo unceremoniously excluded from the safety of the others.

"Ileana." He tasted the word on his tongue.

"I owe you many thanks. As does, I would think, my urgent friend." He smiled, though the way he covered his lips made it no warmer than the last. "Does my young guide have a name?"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mahdi

0.00 INK

#, as written by Vyral
Mahdi watched the woman go. She had not asked his name. She had not struck him as an impolite woman, nor unafraid of a stranger. It had been Ileana that had made her nervous. The woman, Ciara, disappeared behind the cover of some nearby vardos. His gaze lingered for a moment. Finally, it drifted back towards the small vardo.

Decided, he strode towards it. With his nose he probed the air freely; with his back to the fires and so few awake he doubted any would see the unusual behaviour. Perhaps young Ciara had been nervous enough to tell stories at the fires. Perhaps the nervousness would spread.

Mahdi quickened his pace.

As he neared the vardo his nose caught something. A strong smell. It was sweet but musty; not dissimilar to the smell of woodsmoke. That smell was behind him, though. This one was before him, and it smelt alive. Vaguely like paprika, he thought. When he reached the vardo he rapped one hand loudly, and rather brusquely, on the doors wooden panels.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mahdi

0.00 INK

#, as written by Vyral
No answer. He heard no movement inside.

The horse made known its feelings. Mahdi spared a glance over his shoulders, wondering if others could hear the horses racket. He saw nothing that gave him cause to panic, but he would not tarry in any instance. He thudded the door again, and again the horse trumpeted its displeasure. No answer. Impatient, Mahdi moved towards one of the windows. Thick swathes of fabric hung over it, obscuring his vision, but his keen eyes cut the shadows within. He could see no-one inside. He shifted his gaze. On a surface he could see a pestle, the mortar discarded beside it. Something was smeared across the end, crushed against it. Mahdi raised his nose and inhaled. Wolfsbane.

A sinking feeling settled in his stomach.

With no further thought for courtesy he tried the vardos doorhandle. It gave. The large man stopped slightly to enter the tiny wagon, grunting his irritation in unison to the tethered horse. Mahdi stopped. A woman was sprawled on the ground, head twisted in a way that suggested she wasn't simply sleeping. Mahdi approached, taking to one knee beside her body. She was pale, sweating lightly despite the chill than sunk into the vardo. He pressed a hand to her throat. A faint throb. His fingers retreated, damp with perspiration. Cautiously he stroked away the hair from her face and studied her features. A pretty girl, if plain to the eye. Perhaps he was unfair. She was not her best, he expected.

Mahdi stood, bumping his head on the vardos ceiling. With a grunt he cursed the cramped wooden box, and turned towards the womans cuboards. A jug of water rested on the surface, half emptied. An indication of the situation, perhaps. Perhaps not. He dipped a swathe of bright fabric into the water - he doubted Ileana, if it was her, would mind - and then draped it over her forehead.

He took one knee again. "Paprika," he confirmed. "Do you hear my voice, girl?"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mahdi

0.00 INK

#, as written by Vyral
Mahdi furrowed his brow at the scarred eye, ran a gentle finger around its edge. A fresh scar, he thought, but nearly healed nonetheless. If the woman was truly one of his kind she would not be scarred, he knew. The wolfsbane, though... He couldn't be sure. The plant was potent, and he had never cared to explore its capabilities. Mahdi shifted his weight onto his other leg and slipped one arm beneath the unconscious womans back. He heaved the woman up and slid his head beneath her arm to support her weight. With a noticeable lack of grace, and much bumping and banging, Mahdi turned around and steered them out into the open air.

He inhaled deeply, hoping to be rid of the stench of wolfsbane. What he could smell though, was a change in the atmosphere. Less anxiety and more hostility. The smell of smoke was still in the air but it seemed fainter. Uncared for, as though the thought of breakfast was lost to some of the camps inhabitants. Mahdi set his jaw.

He did not favour a walk back through the Mistwood camp. The sinking feeling had returned.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mahdi

0.00 INK

#, as written by Vyral
Mahdi stopped walking, Ileana still supported over his neck.

He sized up the men carefully with flint eyes. He could smell the nervous tension in the group. There was only a trace of aggression; it could grow, though. He must tread carefully. Twelve men posed a threat even to a werewolf, and he had no wish to spill blood this morning. Mahdi resumed walking forwards slowly, trying to appear relaxed.

"She is sick. Perhaps she will die. With help, perhaps not." He closed the gap to the men slowly, eyes restlessly searching their faces, watching for any change in feeling. "Me, I can help, perhaps. Then she can return if she wishes," he smiled, trying to placate them. "You should speak to your Ciara, the pretty young woman. She showed me to Ileana. She will tell you I can be trusted, I am sure."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mahdi

0.00 INK

#, as written by Vyral
"You are wrong. I can help the girl, Ileana. Her illness is from a plant. There is no curse, and no-one shall be living as a beast." Mahdi chuckled, but even he felt it was hollow. He was concentrating too hard on the group, weighing up who might strike and who would flee. "As I say, perhaps she will want to come back anyway."

He made his choice. Adjusting Ileana's weight on his back, he strengthened his gait once again and headed for the center of the group. He would pass through them, he hoped, unmolested. Perhaps there was enough fear left in them that they would sooner see them gone, so they could forget it had ever happened.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mahdi

0.00 INK

#, as written by Vyral
Mahdi passed through the crowd, eyes roaming and muscles stiffened with expectation. The gathered men parted for them, though, and soon Mahdi had his back to the crowd even while the man - a relative, perhaps, though he bore little physical resemblance - spoke. Mahdi did not turn to reply.

"Perhaps you speak true. Perhaps there are those here who feel differently, though. Perhaps her family will overcome superstition and realize that their lives are too short to stand in the cold and shout at a kindly stranger in aid of a dying girl." Mahdi chuckled, his gaze resting on Ciara as he passed her. "Perhaps not. She has no say, either way."

With the danger passed, Mahdi shifted Ileana so that he carried her over his shoulder. The edge of the camp neared. Many people watched, and though none barred him passage, he thought that today he had made enemies were before he could walk safe. The girl might die yet still, and he would be left with a corpse and daggers in the dark.

The setting changes from gypsy-camp to The Abandoned Slums

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mahdi

0.00 INK

#, as written by Vyral
Mahdi ran the tap, sloshing the cold water over his forearms and then rubbing his face. Outside the window the slums was sinking deeper into the late evening shadow, the sky a vast sprawling of violets and oranges all blending together. It was a clear night, and the air was crisp and cool for it. After drying his hands he pulled the curtains closed and stepped back into the hall. The hostel he had 'purchased' was a large, disused building on the edge of Wing City's Eastern Slums. Three stories high and long enough to hold a multitude of bedrooms and others rooms in its mass. Currently only a handful of people lived there, but he hoped that would change. Mahdi walked down the first floor corridor past a number of empty rooms, doors left ajar so that the halls light lit up the sparse interiors. A lot of work was still left to do.

Mahdi reached the third door on the left on paused.

He had arrived back from the gypsy camp a few hours ago, hauling the unconscious grill all the way. She had barely stirred at all. She had been asleep since he had lain her in bed. He had checked her pulse and breathing every five or so minutes at first, afraid she might yet die, but she seemed more stable now. He opened the door and stepped into the room...

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mahdi

0.00 INK

#, as written by Vyral
Mahdi relaxed seeing the girl awake and seemingly aware. He shut the door quietly behind himself and dragged a chair over to sit upon. The cushion was so torn up it lacked any real substance, and one leg was slightly shorter than the others giving it an odd lean. Even so, he felt he might be less threatening sitting. He hoped.

"Mahdi. The slums East of Wing City. North-West of your camp," he answered, regarding her carefully. She was anxious. Perhaps even scared. Her colour had returned, though; he thought the worst had passed. "I tracked you to your camp. In the woods. You were sick. Wolfsbane, perhaps," his eyes suggested there was little doubt about it. "A foolish thing. Wolfsbane will not cure you. Perhaps nothing will," he grimaced slightly, but continued quickly. "Your kin were... not help, helpful, to you. One suggested you be left to die. I thought not. I have questions. Perhaps, more."

"You are Ileana, yes?"

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mahdi

0.00 INK

#, as written by Vyral
"You can't go back." He paused. Then realized how that might sound. "I won't stop you. Your gypsy friend said so. I am sorry. It was either take you... or, let you die," he said, though he did not appear particularly apologetic. "I think, life here will be better than death there. Perhaps."

Mahdi gestured towards the bedside table next to Ileana. On it's top sat a glass filled with cool water and a small plate with a ham sandwhich, and a newspaper clipping. "You should eat, drink. I suspect you have no eaten in some time. If nothing else, it will settle your nerves." He smiled.

"Ileana. The newspaper shows two people. Killed in the forests near your camp. Did you kill them?"

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mahdi

0.00 INK

#, as written by Vyral
Mahdi studied the woman Ileana closely.

"I see." He stopped, as if weighing up the situation. "I will show you my thinking. Perhaps then you will think again," he ventured. "There are many rumours in the city that a beast hunts unwary travelers. Then, two people die from an animal attack, a large animal, perhaps. I hear next that gypsys are selling cures for lycanthropy, a funny thing, no? I visit this gypsy camp, curious to the rumours. There I find a girl. Woman. Perhaps. This girl smells. Stinks. Wolfsbane. She is not making it, though - no, no, this girl is taking it herself." Mahdi pauses, studying the girls face carefully. "It makes me wonder. Did you kill those two people, Ileana?"

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mahdi

0.00 INK

#, as written by Vyral
"Good. For you. Not so much for them."

Mahdi seemed unperturbed by the womans obvious distress. He stretched out an picked up one half of the sandwhich on the table, taking a large bite and swallowing it after a couple of lazy chews. "You should eat. See," he said, holding up the half-eaten sandwhich. "Good." He smiled reassuringly.

"I will believe that you did not kill them, Ileana. You seem too frail to be a liar. Blunt, perhaps, but honest. Clearly you could say more though. Few girls take wolfsbane for fun, I think. Fewer still are shunned by their family as you are - were."

"What happened to your eye, Ileana?"

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mahdi

0.00 INK

#, as written by Vyral
"As you say." Mahdi finished the rest of the sandwhich in a few large bites, then dusted the crumbs off onto the plate. He left the remaining half for Ileana, despite her protests. The girl was timid. Too timid, he thought. If she was the one hunting the Woods at night, he would be surprised. The other possibility was more worrying, though. Much more.

"You have considered that the problem may be here," he touched his temple, "rather than here?" he touched his stomach. "What you know seems little. This herb you take, it makes you worse. Tires your body, tires you will. You cannot fight so hard, and what is within slips free more easily. You do not remember. Perhaps this is why. Perhaps, you do not want to remember. It matters not, yet."

Mahdi shifted on the chair, leaning back. The wooden frame creaks a protest.

"You seem anxious, Ileana. Do not be. You are not alone here." Mahdi smiles, and the faintest tips of white canines slip beneath his lips. "Me. I am older. Wiser. I know these things, as you cannot. Once? I was as you are. Scared. Foolish. Dangerous; not others, myself, everyone. So now I help. I will point and say 'eagle' and you will say 'eagle', not 'bird'. You see? Perhaps no. You will though, if you stay. If not, I will see you again, though you will not recognise me. One day you will not change back up here," he taps his temple again. "When that happens, you must rest. You risk exposing us. Those of us who are peaceful. Careful to blend. We who wish to live as men, not beasts." He sighs, for a second distant. Considering.

"You have a choice, Ileana. Go back to your gypsy camp and take your chances. Die from your wolfsbane, die your your family, or die when the beast wins. Or, stay. Live with us. Learn, understand, grow. We are small, yet. We will grow. Eventually our kind will be safe in these walls. A haven they will call it, sanctuary."

He smiles, a warm smile of hopes and dreams.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Zeik T. Hunter Character Portrait: Otto Kampf Character Portrait: Kayle Character Portrait: Tarrik Zaitsev Character Portrait: Jaharin Naerys Mei'abel Character Portrait: Merivan Character Portrait: Ace.DarkStar Character Portrait: Daisuke Katayama Character Portrait: Amatheus Ardam Character Portrait: Victor Fate Character Portrait: 'Lium Case' Character Portrait: Aerona Character Portrait: Tai Mei Character Portrait: ???? Character Portrait: Logan Farhan Character Portrait: Graymist. Character Portrait: Kintanu Okitu Character Portrait: Teregon Character Portrait: Mahamat Yoadimnadji Character Portrait: The Singularity Character Portrait: Helene Reinhilde Character Portrait: Paloma Cruz Character Portrait: Chernobyl Character Portrait: Captain Azrin Kalway Character Portrait: Lily Talse Character Portrait: Nespral Character Portrait: Doctor Smiles Character Portrait: Toshya Garcielle Marigold Character Portrait: Furor justus Character Portrait: Caine Valentine Character Portrait: Gerius Nine Character Portrait: Anton, Nissen Character Portrait: Raike Zephronic Character Portrait: The Damia Character Portrait: The Umbra Complex Character Portrait: Yuki Cross Character Portrait: Dean Bradley Character Portrait: Naria Walker Character Portrait: Merf the Hunched Character Portrait: Ivan Character Portrait: Eric Palaster Character Portrait: Isabelle Namida Character Portrait: Sparx Mantrex Eccleston Character Portrait: Jack Alvarez Farin Character Portrait: Shion Karasu Character Portrait: Muerte Xanders Character Portrait: Diane Atha Character Portrait: Kim 01 Character Portrait: Khavel ???The Bear??? Haganiere Character Portrait: Ameriah Character Portrait: Carson, Freeman, and Jenna Character Portrait: Austin Marshal Character Portrait: Koharu Suzuki Character Portrait: Kathryn Cox Character Portrait: The Inklings Character Portrait: Buttetsu Batou Character Portrait: Luka Baikov Character Portrait: Kaelin Tiernan Character Portrait: The Gentry Character Portrait: The Elders Character Portrait: Forrester Character Portrait: Reiko Hikari' Character Portrait: Ilya Stakhanov Character Portrait: Jeanette Flourelle Character Portrait: Mahdi Character Portrait: Dustin Verigan Character Portrait: Warren Aulare Character Portrait: Aryndune Aparthea Character Portrait: Chance Mackintosh Character Portrait: Anuktonokahmen Character Portrait: Kadie Character Portrait: Don Tin Character Portrait: Skulker Character Portrait: Thulile Narang Character Portrait: Vialayn Character Portrait: Sraxx Character Portrait: Trisha Hines Character Portrait: Jakob Rivett Character Portrait: Captain Orlando Le Mort Character Portrait: SenTinel Character Portrait: Marilin Character Portrait: Jeremiah Baker Character Portrait: Liam Good Character Portrait: Xanxus Character Portrait: Samuel Grey Character Portrait: Ziegfreid Character Portrait: Heath Matheson Character Portrait: Sinha Character Portrait: Harold and Fred Character Portrait: Byron Field Character Portrait: Vidik Character Portrait: Lucas Riley Character Portrait: Charlie Grenier Character Portrait: Lyle Hieber Character Portrait: Pip Pepper Character Portrait: MagicMan Character Portrait: Velkon Ike Character Portrait: Saul Alptraum Character Portrait: Xinburu Character Portrait: Hastur Character Portrait: Conris Sortal Character Portrait: Grakham Character Portrait: Dracul Protective Front Character Portrait: Heleine Arin Character Portrait: Lzoling Character Portrait: Renny ("Silent Scream") Higgins Character Portrait: Noel Harrison Character Portrait: Kevyn Shikoba Conway Character Portrait: Kohl Character Portrait: Ruby Geniva Character Portrait: Benjamin Sari Character Portrait: Helmi Character Portrait: Commander Faust Character Portrait: Sara Weald Character Portrait: Maul Character Portrait: Pete (Petey) Curtis Character Portrait: Kimberly M. Denner Character Portrait: Wayland Smith Character Portrait: Devika Ward Character Portrait: Tomás De La Tugurio Character Portrait: El Gato De La Muerte Character Portrait: Exp Character Portrait: Madeline Amelia Dunlap Character Portrait: Hoshiko Yu Character Portrait: Marchosias Nekrassus Character Portrait: Ashfield Character Portrait: General Esdeath Character Portrait: Kishin Aldencross Character Portrait: Lucy Smith Character Portrait: Loyahl Nador Character Portrait: Ivan Norfolk Character Portrait: Gotthard Von Leim Character Portrait: Apan Sudrosi

0.00 INK

Warren Aulare was wandering aimlessly about when suddenly he smiled at the sky. For a moment he stood there and stared up into Terran Orbit. A satisfied nod and he turned on his heel with new direction. He thumbed at the die in his pocket as he made his way in to the city.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Zeik T. Hunter Character Portrait: Otto Kampf Character Portrait: Kayle Character Portrait: Tarrik Zaitsev Character Portrait: Jaharin Naerys Mei'abel Character Portrait: Merivan Character Portrait: Ace.DarkStar Character Portrait: Daisuke Katayama Character Portrait: Amatheus Ardam Character Portrait: Victor Fate Character Portrait: 'Lium Case' Character Portrait: Aerona Character Portrait: Tai Mei Character Portrait: ???? Character Portrait: Logan Farhan Character Portrait: Graymist. Character Portrait: Kintanu Okitu Character Portrait: Teregon Character Portrait: Mahamat Yoadimnadji Character Portrait: The Singularity Character Portrait: Helene Reinhilde Character Portrait: Paloma Cruz Character Portrait: Chernobyl Character Portrait: Captain Azrin Kalway Character Portrait: Lily Talse Character Portrait: Nespral Character Portrait: Doctor Smiles Character Portrait: Toshya Garcielle Marigold Character Portrait: Furor justus Character Portrait: Caine Valentine Character Portrait: Gerius Nine Character Portrait: Anton, Nissen Character Portrait: Raike Zephronic Character Portrait: The Damia Character Portrait: The Umbra Complex Character Portrait: Yuki Cross Character Portrait: Dean Bradley Character Portrait: Naria Walker Character Portrait: Merf the Hunched Character Portrait: Ivan Character Portrait: Eric Palaster Character Portrait: Isabelle Namida Character Portrait: Sparx Mantrex Eccleston Character Portrait: Jack Alvarez Farin Character Portrait: Shion Karasu Character Portrait: Muerte Xanders Character Portrait: Diane Atha Character Portrait: Kim 01 Character Portrait: Khavel ???The Bear??? Haganiere Character Portrait: Ameriah Character Portrait: Carson, Freeman, and Jenna Character Portrait: Austin Marshal Character Portrait: Koharu Suzuki Character Portrait: Kathryn Cox Character Portrait: The Inklings Character Portrait: Buttetsu Batou Character Portrait: Luka Baikov Character Portrait: Kaelin Tiernan Character Portrait: The Gentry Character Portrait: The Elders Character Portrait: Forrester Character Portrait: Reiko Hikari' Character Portrait: Ilya Stakhanov Character Portrait: Jeanette Flourelle Character Portrait: Mahdi Character Portrait: Dustin Verigan Character Portrait: Aryndune Aparthea Character Portrait: Chance Mackintosh Character Portrait: Anuktonokahmen Character Portrait: Kadie Character Portrait: Don Tin Character Portrait: Skulker Character Portrait: Thulile Narang Character Portrait: Vialayn Character Portrait: Sraxx Character Portrait: Trisha Hines Character Portrait: Jakob Rivett Character Portrait: Captain Orlando Le Mort Character Portrait: SenTinel Character Portrait: Marilin Character Portrait: Jeremiah Baker Character Portrait: Liam Good Character Portrait: Xanxus Character Portrait: Samuel Grey Character Portrait: Ziegfreid Character Portrait: Heath Matheson Character Portrait: Sinha Character Portrait: Harold and Fred Character Portrait: Byron Field Character Portrait: Vidik Character Portrait: Lucas Riley Character Portrait: Charlie Grenier Character Portrait: Lyle Hieber Character Portrait: Pip Pepper Character Portrait: MagicMan Character Portrait: Velkon Ike Character Portrait: Saul Alptraum Character Portrait: Xinburu Character Portrait: Hastur Character Portrait: Conris Sortal Character Portrait: Grakham Character Portrait: Dracul Protective Front Character Portrait: Heleine Arin Character Portrait: Lzoling Character Portrait: Renny ("Silent Scream") Higgins Character Portrait: Noel Harrison Character Portrait: Kevyn Shikoba Conway Character Portrait: Kohl Character Portrait: Ruby Geniva Character Portrait: Benjamin Sari Character Portrait: Helmi Character Portrait: Commander Faust Character Portrait: Sara Weald Character Portrait: Maul Character Portrait: Pete (Petey) Curtis Character Portrait: Kimberly M. Denner Character Portrait: Wayland Smith Character Portrait: Devika Ward Character Portrait: Tomás De La Tugurio Character Portrait: El Gato De La Muerte Character Portrait: Exp Character Portrait: Madeline Amelia Dunlap Character Portrait: Hoshiko Yu Character Portrait: Marchosias Nekrassus Character Portrait: Ashfield Character Portrait: General Esdeath Character Portrait: Kishin Aldencross Character Portrait: Lucy Smith Character Portrait: Loyahl Nador Character Portrait: Ivan Norfolk Character Portrait: Gotthard Von Leim Character Portrait: Apan Sudrosi Character Portrait: K'gara

0.00 INK

K'gara sniffs the air curiously and looks around observantly, her tail wagging a bit