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Sevral

"My swords are beauty, and beauty is balanced. Be wary of them."

0 · 873 views · located in Trinity

a character in “The Tale of Three Worlds- Before the Storm”, as played by Centi85

Description

Image
Name: Sevral
Age: 28
Gender: Male
Race: Human



Appearance
Standing near to 5’9” Sevral confronts the world with a calm, analytical, and sometimes skeptical but never condescending, gaze as his cool brown eyes assess his surroundings. His hair hangs long, neatly combed to the sides but still falling free, except in the back where its length exceeds his forward appearance and is tied into a careful tail. His features are still young, usually sporting a well groomed mustache and beard, or at least a shadow, but his presentation denotes one who has labored and endured, and who, even in youth, has still managed to unlock some of the secrets of life’s simpler pleasures.
Normally clad in a short-sleeved long-coat which falls to just around the man’s knees, Sevral dresses casually, preferring nothing terribly ostentatious. With a purple sash, overlapped by a black leather belt, fit snug around his waist, as well as a plain pair of leather boots and gloves, Sevral maintains a moderate look of middle-to-upper class to fit his aesthetic whims. A Brown leather satchel hangs across from his left shoulder.

Personality
Sevral is a modest man to say the least. Since his beginning he has had little, and so he enjoys simple things. As a crafter he has learned the aesthetic values around which the world is centered. Feeling that there is beauty in many things so long as they are balanced, Sevral may often come across as philosophical, though he himself simply sees it as a proper perception of life’s wonders. Sevral by habit can tend to be a perfectionist, and often he may look at something with a scrutinizing glare, determining immediate face-value of an object or person, and any and all noting flaws. Of course he has made no habit of expressing this in any way, especially not by making quick judgments, but he still finds himself adhered to this inescapable habit. Many times the man has learned that the miniscule imperfections make some things the most beautiful. The man’s careful gaze and eye for beauty can be seen in his work.



Equipment
Sevral utilizes a matching pair of longswords, hand-crafted by himself, and differing only with the fact that one blade remains sharpened while the other is not. Of his other belongings he carries a series of sharpeners, polishers and buffers for his swords, several writing utensils and paper, as well as a conglomeration of other small tools with which he can craft or construct miniscule projects, all of which reside within his satchel.

Training
Sevral is a well versed swordsman and maker, preferring to trust his own craft to wield instead of any other shady merchant's. The man’s speed and precision, both in creation and wielding, is a dazzling display of harmonic balance and deadly grace. Of his work in armor, weaponry and sometimes jewelry or other bauble, Sevral is known for its lasting durability, reliability, unique craft design and stunning efficiency either in combat, or in pleasure to the eye.



History
Sevral was born and left as an orphan within the industrialized infrastructure of the Creeds. Taken in by a small guild, he found an affinity and natural talent for designing and then forging out magnificent pieces of work. As he grew his products merely matured with him, with designs becoming more elaborate, as well as audacious. Sevral found pleasure in designing, and eventually began off in separate tangents. Soon Sevral’s craft encompassed both ends of an entire spectrum and more. Whether in a sword with no design except in how the satin was wrapped so delicately around the hilt, or in the construction of a Lion’s face whose mane was itself a battle enacted by miniature people, Sevral Capitalized on his skill, though never sacrificed the integrity of his product in exchange for profit.
Soon after his mentor had died, Sevral had taken over the growing guild for some time. For several years Sevral was maintaining a steadily increasing income, but found quickly that demand endangered to engulf supply. Greed sets in easily, and after several attempts by his guildsmen to offer knock-off creations under the false brand of Sevral’s own work, in addition to the tedious guidelines of the Creed, Sevral simply decided he would cease with his work to travel the world in search of other sources of inspiration. His craft, while still wildly spontaneous, still felt as though it had room to grow. Currently Sevral wanders wherever he feels, observing and taking notes. Often he’ll see his trademark seal, a purple Phoenix within a crimson circle, and though it hasn’t bothered him, he knows that most who brandish that insignia have no face to put behind the name of such beautiful work, but perhaps it is Sevral who puts his work to his name. Having no proper family, and subsequently no last name, to identify with, Sevral cherishes his work as his identification.

So begins...

Sevral's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Enuren Character Portrait: Dravon Morsano Character Portrait: Keyra Character Portrait: Sevral Character Portrait: Elruin Halfin
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We find the daily sun just leaving its height among the city of Guilds, its flames now flickering to life as the sunlight leaves its depths. Thousands of lives move to home and rest, with thousands more are just waking from they're own slumber to start the night. But there is one figure that does not share in the passing of the day and upon a oaken throne he sits with a deep thought and a heavy brow. This is the "Count" Cantobrand and he worries for his people.
One of the Guild Lords of Creeds he is absorbed into the knowledge that something is not right within his lands and within the very halls of the city itself. The council have returned to him and his peers with troubling knowledge that something is coming to destroy all that he ever held dear to life among the citizens of Creeds and they do no know what it is. This puzzles him, for they have always been forthcoming in all things of this matter. Never was there a lie or a false truth to be found among they're number. So in order to ease his own worrisome thoughts he has called for several individuals that may have a chance of ending this danger before it comes to pass. But even then this puzzles him, for the council was the source of such a list of adventurers and even then only one is known to him.


Outside of the great meeting hall of the Counts estate the terrace sits, a lone figure waiting. The mans garb is that of a statesman but less refined and more worn. He is Geoffry one of the Counts most trusted advisers and friends.
There he has been waiting for the better part of the day, looking for any sign of a sky ship that will come by carrying those the Count insisted on meeting. His pipe sits perched on the edge of his lips as he puffs away looking more like an aristocratic chimney then a person. Running his fingers through his grey hair and adjusting his glasses, he see's a speck quickly gaining on the horizon.

It is the ship in question and he quickly sets his pipe aside and straightens up to make himself presentable for those on board.

The five on board were strangers up to this very time seeing as no one knew the other and the size of the transport itself allowed them to easily avoid one another. But each carried a piece of parchment that was a message straight to them and they knew that it was the Counts own calling that brought them to this world in the first place.

Geoffry stepped over as the ship pulled aside and the gangplank lowered lightly touching down on the terrace. He awaited for the visitors to remove themselves from the ship before addressing all of them and leading them to the Count as per his orders.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Enuren Character Portrait: Keyra Character Portrait: Sevral Character Portrait: Elruin Halfin
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#, as written by Centi85
Sevral sat, perpetually undisturbed within the confines of what he had claimed, though what he doubted would remain, his own room. Sitting crooked in his chair, with his weight shifted to the side as he leaned idly with his right elbow on the table, the man watched his finger trace the intricate grain of the smooth wooden table. His summons was on the table as well, though the man had given up long ago any attempts on locating any true value beyond the delicately printed calligraphy that requested his return to his home. He wasn’t sure if the thought disturbed him that suddenly he were being dragged back, or if he cherished the new adventure. Three years ago he’d set out, and he found that for the most part, people could be quite dull when they weren’t competing head-over-heels, ravenously for supremacy. Nevertheless, the man allowed his mind to wander. To imagine for his own sake of entertainment that this would be interesting, and to forget how seemingly strange it was for him to report to this particular ship, and yet to have met almost no one except the hollow sounds of footsteps or faraway whispers or the gentle creaking and moaning of the massive beast of a vessel as it glided effortlessly across open air.

A pencil moved with a monotone hum as it continued exploring the floor with an almost unfathomable curiosity. Sevral had found that, though the ship seemed steady, there was always just the slightest disturbance in its movements, and that a pencil could accurately map out the miniscule imperfections of her seemingly smooth sail. The man glanced down now as it tapped his foot. Could the entire crew, shifted to one side, possibly offset this monster and send her careening to port or starboard? The man had always admired these great pieces of engineering wonder, but had yet to fully grasp unto what imaginary beam that ran from fore to aft the vessel remained seated upon as its center of gravity, and whether or not the ship could possibly rotate like a top around it, centrifugal force spilling the contents of its upper decks while scrambling against either wall the inhabitants of the lower refuges. Idle thoughts for idle pleasure, the man thought, ironically idly. A smile was on his face as the man shifted his thoughtful gaze onto the far wall.


It was some time until Sevral had finally registered the ship’s descent. Again his mind wondered of suddenly the great dragon losing altitude due to a broken wing, and analyzed carefully how that would affect the plans currently at work behind the scenes, but then dismissed the idea. He wasn’t pessimistic, merely aware. Standing carefully, the man bent to retrieve his scrambling writing tool, and then moved from his room into the hall. By the time the ship had ceased movement and the gangplank set into position, Sevral was on deck.

He didn’t move slowly, but he didn’t bother walking fast. He moved with a careful gait, almost as if he were indifferent, but still had a destination and motive. With each of these purposeful steps he got closer, but yet he wasted no frivolous energy, nor time, and he could feel his satchel rhythmically hitting the back of his right leg. His hands hung passively at his sides as he admired the four figures which had beat him to what he expected as the social gathering to which he belonged, and glanced to each of the figures with a modest curiosity. Sevral never once bothered basking in the vastness of Brass which served as a backdrop.

It wasn’t difficult to determine which of these four didn’t belong, and yet Sevral still felt as if he belonged. It was an odd sensation, but the man couldn’t say it was displeasing. Glancing equally to each of the three he’d singled out, or tripled out, he thought with a dry grin, he gave a courteous nod, his hair seeming to bow for itself, before standing to one side. Of everything the man had taken in with his first, well-trained glance, Sevral noticed that blue dominated this group. The first man, clad in a series of blue hued robes, and seeming to look the part of some sort of diplomat, dominated the scene over the other two shorter women, both seemingly frail enough to be taken up at any moment by a flurry of winds, and who were also overlapped in varying blue as well. In addition, both females also maintained a stunning brilliance of white, either in a cascade of hair, or in immense feathery wings. Sevral himself was in shades of dull brown and dark red and black hair. Perhaps he didn’t belong afterall. Silently the man dismissed this, and waited patiently along the lineup.

The setting changes from Creeds to Trinity

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Enuren Character Portrait: Dravon Morsano Character Portrait: Keyra Character Portrait: Sevral Character Portrait: Elruin Halfin
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The ship sways slightly as it breaches upon the edge of the terrace and stops allowing its passengers to disembark at will and so they did. Dravon was the only one left save for the small crew, as he sat slowly puffing away on his ivory pipe.
His thumb plugged and drew away as he pulled one last draw on its sweet taste before standing and making his way towards the exit. His eyes only catching a small look of those that were to accompany him. Knocking the spent ash from his pipe on the frame as he passed his eyes caught the looks of the others once again as the sound of the late day hymns could be heard bellowing up from the inner reaches of the city.

"From the hills abounding.. and these war pipes sounding. Summon all your courage for a mighty war force abounding. Men so honored come to glory.. this will ever be your story, keep these burning words before the.. These men.. will.. not yield"


The man that was waiting presented himself as Dravon's eyes came back to his position. "Greetings honored sirs and madams, the Count awaits inside." He is quick to be done with the greeting as he beckons for them to follow with his white gloved hand. Its easy to see that with the way he holds his face in such a stern upturned manner that they are late. Which to everyone's credit was not they're fault. But non the less Dravon shrugs a moment and gives the other a slight stare before rolling his eyes in a motion to follow.

This group was so mismatched it was a joke to say the least he thought to himself. An Ash Fiend, Val, Human, Volkar and Ariji to top it off. If only that followed with the phrase walks into a bar he could laugh about it but to no avail not a single syllable of laughter could be found in his throat as the group entered the Counts meeting room. There he sat on his throne with head in hand and a sorrowed look as if he were waiting for his own death. The group also caught sight of a large table set in the center of the room, no chairs to say the least could be seen though. It was however a massive piece of furniture and on its surface as a map of nearly the whole city.

Count Cantobrand noticed them the moment they're feet broke the rooms boundaries and he stood, his expression changing drastically as a smile broke out. "Oh its good to finally see a friendly face after all this time.." Dravon broke a smile as well as he quickened his pace and they both clasped hands with a strong resounding slap.
"Well well.. Makarov.. I heard you became count, but I did not think it would be among one of the lords number. You look good old friend.." "And you too Dravon.. you too." The two held the embrace for a moment as if a memory were being shared of better days and that brought a new light to the Count's eye's.

He looked over Dravon's shoulder and motioned to the others.
"Its okay everyone, you can be frank here." He motions for Geoffry to seal the doors and draw the windows to a close. Making sure the other position themselves at the table with him and Dravon.

"Now.. I know many of you have questions and that is something we will get to. But I must say that I thank you all from the deepest reaches of my heart. My people are in need of help and you have all been enlisted to do just that, by my station and the inner council itself." Cantobrand removes the circlet on his head and places it on the table for a moment.
He looks to be a worn man, though no further then his early 40s his station has seemed to weigh on him immensely. His royal garbs seem to be a ruse with his long plus coat and his fine fabric tunic underneath. The small trinkets of gold and gems might as well be an iron chain barring his character to the floor. He wipes his mouth slowly as if to pull away a horrid taste and peers up.

"This mission will be dangerous, of that I have been assured. But I know that with all things hope is a great a weapon as any sword or more sturdy then any shield."
"Now aside from the good captain here.. I know not of any of you. So please I believe introductions are in order."
He points at Dravon as a means for him to go first.

Dravon smirks for a moment and looks at the others.
"Dravon Morsano.. born to house Morsano in the Silver heights and Captain of my own privateer vessel..." He returns the pipe to his mouth, despite the lack of tobacco he still lightly nibbles all the same.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Enuren Character Portrait: Dravon Morsano Character Portrait: Keyra Character Portrait: Sevral Character Portrait: Elruin Halfin
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#, as written by Thorait
The first to follow him was a woman, good and kind with some decency he remarked as she nodded to him just as etiquette would have demanded of her in his homeland but it didn't demand it from him after all he was a noble and forced by tradition he didn't respond to her even though she had his interest. The second was a Vall, something he was accustomed to seeing and far from the worst he had ever seen although he still thought of the animal people as his lesser he had to admire the white wings with a short glance as she bowed. The third was someone Elruin thought to be warrior something he had always laughed at because in his mind any man could burn still this one looked able enough. So far the Ash fiend wasn't impressed by the group going over their various threats and visible skills he decided they where no danger to him even if they wanted to be. The fourth was perhaps the most dangerous because he was one of the Volkari, a race the Ash fiends had always envied for their power. The Volkari disturbed him greatly not because he felt threatened by his presence but the fact he seemed competent. Elruin observed the man his red eyes quickly taking in every detail before he turned to follow the man that had to a servant of the count.

The reunion between the Volkari he now knew to be called Dravon and the count didn't interest him it only mattered that Dravon knew the count and how this could affect the mission. The fact they seemed to be old accomplices told him how and why the captain had been hired but the method the count had used to find the other members of the ‘group’ was still a mystery to him. This count looked weak and tired not fit to rule his people, perhaps this could be used to advance his own desires? He stepped forwards after Dravon had spoken his voice calm but commanding like a true noble “I’m Elruin Halfin of the burned house, first and only son of lord Jurial Halfin and rightful heir to all his belongings.” The Orphaned heir of a dead house stepped back as thoughts about the rewards he could claim filled his mind and how he could use them.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Enuren Character Portrait: Dravon Morsano Character Portrait: Keyra Character Portrait: Sevral Character Portrait: Elruin Halfin
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The last of the group, a woman with white wings, a man in darker colours and a final figure who was clearly a warrior of some kind disembarked. It was not long after that they were beckoned to enter to meet the Count.

Enuren’s face gave away nothing of her thoughts as she turned and followed the man inside. The building, the walls and decadence of the things around her made Enuren feel slightly trapped. She was used to feeling the wind in her hair and open space.

The Count, the man they were there to see looked over at him. He seemed pleased and it did not take long to work out that he knew at least one of the group on a personal level. Her eyes shifted to the others, comforted that at least she was in the same situation as they were.

Enuren merely blinked as he stated they could be frank. It had not occurred to her to say anything as of yet and when she did she had not thought to be guarded. Clearly something is amiss... Not for the first time she wondered why she had been summoned.

The Ariji moved foward to the large desk as the others did. She listened as the Count thank them and stated that they were there to help his people. Her eyes moved over him as she carefully observed him. He seems tired. Far more so than he should for a man of his age...

Enuren’s attention turned to Dravon and here too she took time to look him over. Captain. He returned the pipe he held to his mouth and Enuren turned her attention to the next speaker.

She had noted the blue robes earlier but now added a name to his description. Elruin and from a noble house. In truth Enuren cared little for nobility. The Ariji had little use for nobles and lords and thus no one carried titles.

Her voice as she spoke was calm and even. “I am Enuren. I come from the mountaintops of Vola’kun.”

It was a simple, concise with a basic polite formality sort of introduction. It satisfied her as there was no other pretense or information to give. She was as they saw her and nothing more.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Enuren Character Portrait: Dravon Morsano Character Portrait: Keyra Character Portrait: Sevral Character Portrait: Elruin Halfin
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#, as written by Siryn
Image




As the last of their group found their way, the man who had been dressed a bit nicer than the rest of them, beckoned for them to lead the way. The Val immediately recognized the man who was to be their leader. He had the aura of one. Keyra fell into step behind the one who had nodded at them, her wings fluttering slightly as she moved swiftly. They were brought to the council room shortly after where she laid eyes upon the man they were to meet with.

Though he had smiled upon looking at their leader, his earlier appearance had given away more than he probably wished for others to know. The Val frowned. He was burdened with something, a heavy darkness lingered over his shoulder. The heavy feeling that exuded from him was easily picked up by her senses. She listened to their exchange with a slight bit of interest.

"Its okay everyone, you can be frank here." The count said as he gestured for them all to gather around the large table that held a map on it's inky surface. Keyra complied and stepped up to one side of the table. Her gaze fell down to the map, taking in it's details, her eyes narrowing slightly as she scanned the paper.

"Now.. I know many of you have questions and that is something we will get to. But I must say that I thank you all from the deepest reaches of my heart. My people are in need of help and you have all been enlisted to do just that, by my station and the inner council itself. This mission will be dangerous, of that I have been assured. But I know that with all things hope is a great a weapon as any sword or more sturdy then any shield." He said as he gazed down at the table. After removing his crown, he looked up at each of them, his voice holding a heavy tone that matched the feeling that was pouring from him. Keyra tilted her head off to the side slightly as she lifted her gaze to regard him briefly before looking back down at the map.

"Now aside from the good captain here.. I know not of any of you. So please I believe introductions are in order." the count said and pointed over to their Captain. Keyra turned then to watch the taller man.

"Dravon Morsano.. born to house Morsano in the Silver heights and Captain of my own privateer vessel..." Dravon put a pipe into his mouth when he finished speaking. This prompted the others to speak as well and Keyra waited patiently. She wasn't all that great with introductions as they were going, but she would comply since it seemed customary.

“I’m Elruin Halfin of the burned house, first and only son of lord Jurial Halfin and rightful heir to all his belongings.” The Ash Fiend announced, his tone very firm as he introduced himself. Much like a noble the Vall thought as she arched an eyebrow while regarding him. She was only slightly curious to the reason why he was there with them, but figured it was probably for a good reason, at least that's what she thought anyway.

“I am Enuren. I come from the mountaintops of Vola’kun.” The Ariji female said, her introduction just a bit shorter than the others.

With a moment of brief silence, the Vall figured it was her turn. Leveling her golden hawk gaze upon the count, she lifted her arm and extended it across her torso again, bowing forward with her slender fingers extended outwards. This bow was a little deeper than the one she'd given earlier and even her wings dropped back a bit adding just a bit more elegance to her formality, "My Lord," she started, "I am Keyra," once she'd stated her name, she straightened again, allowing her arm to fall to her side and her wings raise up again. Though the count had said they could be 'frank', Keyra, for one didn't know what that was, and secondly it wasn't in her nature to be... 'frank'.

The setting changes from Trinity to Creeds

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Enuren Character Portrait: Dravon Morsano Character Portrait: Keyra Character Portrait: Sevral Character Portrait: Elruin Halfin
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#, as written by Centi85
The Count stood as they entered. Interesting, thought Sevral. Normally those in authority remained seated until their subjects bowed, then rose to administer their malevolent judgment or to exercise their authority. Truly it was a perplexing act considering the man’s position versus the rag-tag team which had just perverted the grace and eloquence of a superior’s room without even given time to humiliate themselves, but then Sevral dismissed such trivial ideals, figuring that the gesture of friendly acquaintanceship and equality was most obviously directed towards the man Sevral could only assume was their Captain. As the two men then exchanged pleasantries which left no doubt that they knew each other from some time ago, Sevral’s gaze shifted curiously from one end of the room to the other, encompassing all that was worth seeing; those with power never failed to impress. An eyebrow arched inquisitively as the door and windows were shut, but Sevral made no other movements until he and the others were beckoned forward around the table in the center of the room. The man waited obediently, then dared entertain the thought that the Count’s actions of removing that which distinguished him as superior, his circlet, was the attempt of a humble man seeking equality in the eyes of those before him, or if perhaps the man was as tired as he looked and the object merely gave him headaches. Truly he seemed weighed by something, and though gold was heavy enough to drown any man, his spirits normally soared. Sevral shrugged these thoughts now as the Count spoke, realizing he’d been focusing on the man’s actions rather than his words. Introductions were in order.

"Dravon Morsano.. born to house Morsano in the Silver heights and Captain of my own privateer vessel..." spoke their Captain. Sevral couldn’t tell if the man were being boastful, or simply matter-of-fact. Truly the man had plenty to boast, obviously a powerful leader and soldier, possessor of his own ship and crew, but Sevral just couldn’t sway himself to believe it was as such. The man simply allowed himself to note to never get on the Captain’s bad side.

“I’m Elruin Halfin of the burned house, first and only son of lord Jurial Halfin and rightful heir to all his belongings.” Sevral’s gaze shifted to the blue-clad man. Those words seemed boastful, thought Sevral, even if they may not have been spoken that way. Obviously they were supposed to carry some weight to impress, but the man couldn’t seem to locate why the information could be of any importance to him. This figure certainly carried himself as nobility, and Sevral could almost feel the radiance of authority, but the primary, imposing force of the Captain, and more importantly, the Count, almost seemed to stymie any feelings of awe or immediate respect Sevral might have felt; that and of course his ignorance to whatever house was burnt.

“I am Enuren. I come from the mountaintops of Vola’kun.” Voiced a female. Sevral’s eyebrow dared inquire for more, but nothing else came. The man waited for a moment, and still nothing. Sevral watched curiously for some time, thinking that perhaps the woman had been caught up in the moment and had frozen before realizing and reminding himself that they were told to be frank, and that Ariji didn’t breathe, and in that lapse, Sevral had to remind himself that he did breathe. After a pause, his eyes moved silently again, knowing that he and the other woman remained the last to introduce themselves. He gave a sidelong glance to the Val, knowing he wouldn’t take precedence.

"My Lord," she said with an elegant bow, "I am Keyra.” Perhaps Sevral would wear something blue, the man mused as he watched these figures. Sevral noted that Keyra was the first of these two strangers to express any show of respect, but then Sevral considered the man who was apparently of nobility himself, and of the woman who, if he knew correctly, came from a race where there were no distinguishing ranks or titles. The man shrugged, he could just be making excuses. Nevertheless, as everyone else had gone, it appeared as though he were up.

Sevral bowed in turn, straightening and flicking his head just slightly to replace the few strands of hair which strayed from the neatly combed mess. “Sevral, blacksmith of the Creeds,” he said quite simply. He hailed from this land, nowhere exotic; he had no family to take claim to for nobility's sake, or house which was recently burnt, or feathering wings. He was quite simply Sevral, humble blacksmith, and if anyone needed to identify him for his craft, they merely look to either of his shoulders where his insignia was sewn onto his sleeves. The man sighed, realizing again that he’d held his breath, but then nodded almost inadvertently yet politely to signal that he had completed with his introduction. Frank is what the Count wanted, and Frank is what the Count got. Perhaps this was far too literal, and an abomination towards authority and they’d all be beheaded for their incompetence, or perhaps this would suffice. The man was content either way, and so he waited.

The setting changes from Creeds to Trinity

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Enuren Character Portrait: Dravon Morsano Character Portrait: Keyra Character Portrait: Sevral Character Portrait: Elruin Halfin
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The count would nod his head at the understanding of each members own relation to themselves, his mind would draw back to better memories however every time he had the chance. He ran his hand over his bearded face as the others finished and he looked on gesturing towards the table."Now.. to the task at hand"

"As you can all see this map is a rather intent illustration of the empire.. quads, paths and structures. This is what you are all to be concerned with at the moment however" He pointed his finger to a small district that in all generality was not far from the breach itself. The dome sat barely a league from the structure in question and it was marked with a finely printed green swipe on the parchment. It was a large building actually, almost like a tower going all the way down to the base of the city.
"This structure belongs to Aamond Cur, One of our largest ore producers in the whole city. Its tunnels run deep and vast.. and it is here that the council has said our problems will rise from."

He places a small miniature on the paper to signify something though its meaning is lost on the group.
"You will be taken there by transport and accompanied by several guards to the lower tunnels. Strangely we have yet to hear word from them in the last two days.. the same time the council said something was happening." His face draws long and worrisome. Dravon returns as he looks on.. "Guards, personal transport.. the council has changed in the past years."

The count coughs and stammers a bit as a response jumps from him. "Sadly those are my doing.. they are still as enigmatic as ever, more so now I suppose." He pulls a page of velum from his coat and places it on the table. "As payment you can all expect gold, land, and other forms of capitol. But the council offers something more.. if you finish this ordeal, all of it. They are offering a wish.." This time it was Dravon's turn to cough and stammer.
"You must be joking.. they would never."

The count nods for a moment and looks on. "Each of you will be granted a wish.. anything your heart desires and if it remains in the already considerable power of the council you may have it." This is already a bothering truth as Dravon is now stuffing his pipe and oddly enough only lights it by sticking the tip of his finger to the tobacco. Withdrawing his finger with a small flame on the tip of his nail.

A small knock can be head from the far door and it opens with Geoffry poking his head in. "My lord.. its time." The count nods and gathers a few things from the table and picks up a small satchel from the tables edge.
"Dravon.. take these." The small satchel is pressed into his hands as the count passes by. "Conscription writes.. should you require aid from others, these are legally binding for such a purpose." It was with that the count left and moved on, leaving them to ponder they're decisions.

Dravon looks at the map and slowly turns his gaze to the others.

"Well.. small to say but I am interested."

"What say you?"

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#, as written by Siryn
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"As you can all see this map is a rather intent illustration of the empire.. quads, paths and structures. This is what you are all to be concerned with at the moment however."

Keyra's gaze was turned to where the count pressed his finger against the map. A thin eyebrow lifted as she looked at the marked area, her thoughts wondering on what it was exactly they would be after.

"This structure belongs to Aamond Cur, One of our largest ore producers in the whole city. Its tunnels run deep and vast.. and it is here that the council has said our problems will rise from."

Problems? the Vall thought to herself as she lifted her golden hawk-like eyes to meet those of the counts briefly before returning to the map next to her. Shifting her weight she listened to the rest of the conversation, her eyes narrowed as she was deep in thought. Taken by a special transport and accompanied by several guards... Something was definitely wrong. However, what really pulled at her was the information of having no word from anyone in the lower tunnels. Coincidence or no... the council saying something was happening exactly the same time they lose contact with those men Keyra thought.

Her hand shifted to her waist, slender fingers tapping her hip as she tried to put two and two together. There wasn't enough information though. The only thing left was to actually go there and find out what was going on first hand. Keyra much preferred that method anyway. She could find out far more than just listening to words from one's mouth by looking around.

"As payment you can all expect gold, land, and other forms of capitol. But the council offers something more.. if you finish this ordeal, all of it. They are offering a wish.."

"You must be joking.. they would never." their Captain stammered in response.

"Each of you will be granted a wish.. anything your heart desires and if it remains in the already considerable power of the council you may have it."

Keyra looked over to the taller man. She scanned her gaze across the others in their group. The Val was fairly sure whom would be most interested in the reward for doing such a job. For herself, however, she did not want anything. What would she possibly use it for? There was nothing she wanted, no material thing anyway. Her one wish would be something she would gain with her own two hands and she was fairly sure that the council wouldn't spare a single glance at a Val who had lost her clan and family to an unknown assailant.

A knock from the far door caught her attention. Glancing over her shoulder, she watched a man open the door and call to the count. The man nodded in response and gave a satchel to their Captain with a few parting words. Keyra didn't mind the conversation, she had returned her attention to the map. She was putting it to memory, making certain that she could spot key places just in case anything happened along the way. It wasn't until Dravon spoke that she took any notice at all.

"Well.. small to say but I am interested. What say you?"

Shifting her weight, she crossed both arms under her chest. The brilliant white wings fluttered slightly, making a soft ruffling noise as she tilted her head off to the side to regard him quietly for a moment.

"I will fulfill the duty I was sent to do," she answered simply. As stated before, she wasn't interested in any rewards. She was handed a task to complete and she would see it to it's end... even if that end was on the other side of hell.

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The two remaining people introduced themselves and Enuren committed their names to memory. It seemed to be a strange group that the Count had summoned but he likely had his reasons.
Her eyes fell to the map, her hands clasped behind her back. Enuren followed the Count’s finger as he pointed to an area. She listened intently though as the miniature was placed on the map Enuren was no closer to understanding the task ahead of them. They were to go there but what they might meet there still seemed a mystery. The Count offered gold, land and other things including a wish from the council. Enuren had no use for such things but understood that payment was fair and just and that the offer of a wish from the council was a great reward. This she concluded from Dravon’s reaction.
Anything your heart’s desire...This was something Enuren would have to think on and it seemed like the task set before them would not be quick so she had plenty of time to consider it.

The Count was summoned away and the Captain turned to them all.

The woman with the wings, Keyra spoke up. Dravon was interested in the task at hand, she seemed more about finishing the task rather than the idea of what was being offered to them in return. Her tone, her words gave away more that the woman considered it a duty not an adventure. Enuren found herself remarking that in this though not in appearance the women were similar.

“I have been asked to see a task done and will do so. I will see this through.”

She gave a slight nod of her head to Dravon.

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#, as written by Siryn
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The young Vall followed after everyone as they left the council room. She was deep in thought about the situation, still trying to piece together all of the information that had been given to her. Her wings fluttered behind her briefly as she walked silently with the others, her stride keeping her in pace with their Captain. Once back aboard the ship, she took her seat across from the man. Settling into the seat, her wings unraveled slightly as she relaxed them finally. Keyra crossed her arms over her chest as she leaned back, pulling one leg up over the other.

She let her head tilt forward and her eyes close. However, she could still feel Dravon's gave upon her and wondered what it was he was thinking. Even so, she had a fairly good idea as to what was on his thoughts. Hell, she would have been thinking it too if she were in his shoes. Why send a Vall of all things? She questioned it herself every so often too. Of course with her council, the way things were in her world... it was no wonder they sent her. Keyra wasn't expecting to survive the trip at all, that much she'd already given into. That didn't mean, though, that she was just going to up and die either. The young Vall was a fighter through and through. If she were meant to die, she'd be doing it in the honor of battle.

"Halfin is it?.. I have one of your people serving on my ship.. and to be honest I am rather interested to see how you can manage yourself in combat," Dravon spoke, allotting for some small talk.

“I’m a schooled magician trained in many magical arts but I favor breaking necks it’s easy,” the ash fiend known as Halfin replied. His answer sent a slight chill down Keyra's spine. She wasn't sure if she enjoyed that response all that much. Honestly... what is the council thinking? Choosing people like that... she thought to herself, an eyebrow curling downwards.

As her thoughts roamed around, she felt a bit of energy stir in the air. Though she didn't wield magic herself, she could tell that someone had invoked some kind of spell. It wasn't strong, almost too faint to have even felt. It had been just enough to catch her senses, but just barely enough, and only because she had her senses heightened nearly all the time. Keyra's head pulled up a bit, her eyes narrowing as she flicked her gaze between them all, her wings fluttering as they pulled upwards tightly. Her eyes settled on Halfin. He'd said he was a magician. Even though that didn't necessarily mark him as the culprit for the sudden magic, she was fairly sure it was him. A frown pulled on her lips as she sat there. He is good. It's not harmful... but why the sudden need for it? She wondered.

"Its been some time since I've returned home, tell me how are things in the homeland?" Dravon continued. Whether he was satisfied with the ash fiends answer or not, Keyra couldn't tell. He moved the conversation smoothly over to the only other woman present.

The Vall shifted, her eyes slowly leaving Halfin's form to look to the Vola'kun woman. Enuren, if she remembered correctly. For the moment Keyra would leave the magician alone let him play with his magic she thought. So long as he didn't mean any harm to them.

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Enruen followed the rest. She was quiet but took in her surroundings. She moved to seat herself with the others. Dravon took the middle and Enuren sat herself opposite the Ash Fiend, Elruin.

She listened though said nothing as Dravon inquired about Elruin. Enuren found the man’s answer to be interesting. Magic wielder but rather use his hands to fight. She marked that he would be a formative ally.

Dravon turned to her and Enuren tilted her head to show she was listening.

“Home is as it always it always is. I do not venture from my home in the mountains often and I do not meddle in the affairs of those who rule. The mountains are lovely as ever and things are calm there.”

The room went quiet, everyone settled into their own thoughts, their own observations.

Enuren sat, her body unmoving right down to her lack of breathing. She felt Keyra’s eyes on her and she looked over at the woman and gave her a small nod.

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#, as written by Centi85
Sevral sat silently content as the little transport ship glided effortlessly and smoothly through the open air of Creeds. His eyes drifted here and there momentarily, inspecting his old home for any newfound pleasures which might have spontaneously appeared, but found instead that his true interest couldn’t be piqued by anything outside the observation deck, but rather by the people he had found himself in the company of. Shifting his gaze, the man tilted his head just slightly as he moved over the motley crew he’d been commissioned with. He still wasn’t sure how he felt about this mission. He didn’t necessarily dislike it, in fact it held a sense of great adventure, not knowing exactly what lie ahead, yet still stepping boldly forward to face the dark beast, but even so, he wasn’t sure of the ambiguity of it all came from the lack of knowledge, or withholding of knowledge; he wouldn’t start the paranoid or conspiracy theories however, he knew better. Even so, Sevral reminded himself to hold fast to his morality and better judgment. Not only with the reward, should he gain it, but for the duration of his time.

"Halfin is it?.. I have one of your people serving on my ship.. and to be honest I am rather interested to see how you can manage yourself in combat," their Captain inquired. He seemed like an honest man, admirable, but Sevral never gave reverence on charity. The way the Captain addressed Halfin’s race as “one of your people” may have off put Sevral more if Halfin hadn’t just dehumanized himself in his answer. The blue-clad man carried with him an air of over-indulged dignity. Sevral mused that he was certainly a mystery, though he didn’t hold that enticing curiosity of the unknown as the mission might, more so of the question of when he’d be bloodying his hands against the backs of his allies. Sevral shrugged. He never boasted clairvoyance, but merely knew how to observe. He knew better than to act or conclude anything off his own many biases, but he allowed suspicion to remain sheltered in the back of his mind, if only for the benefit of the doubt.

"Its been some time since I've returned home, tell me how are things in the homeland?" Dravon continued, shifting the conversation. Sevral wasn’t sure if the action was due to a genuine curiosity, or from unease with the mage. The man shared sentiment to the Captain however, and merely assumed an equal combination of both. Although Sevral had only been away for a few years, and he could only assume that the Captain had been circumnavigated this world three times over-Sevral knew he was being overgenerous, but he was beginning to gather that impression-he knew that to miss home was much the same feeling, and currently he was the only one who could be considered ‘home.’ But then again, Sevral never really felt at home anywhere. Everyone was misplaced, including himself.

The man sighed as he glanced over to Keyra. He still hadn’t formed any opinion of her, nor the other woman, but it was Keyra who hadn't spoke so far. The Captain and Elruin seem to be already sizing each other up for a confrontation that Sevral hoped was only imminent in his mind, while the two women were modest in their intentions, or so it seemed. Even so, Sevral still was curious of everyone’s capabilities. Dravon could no doubt handle himself, and if Elruin was half the man he boasted, he’d be snapping necks the whole way, with perhaps even a display of magic for shock and awe. Keyra seemed like a combatant. She definitely held the correct physique, and her size merely aided what he could only assume would amount to be a very fast, nimble combat style. Sevral admired her wings as the fluttered and her eyes opened, seeming to analyze Elruin. Time for a test, thought Sevral, deciding that he wasn't only intent on discovering the physical capabilities of his allies, but the mental capacity.

The man was merely satisfying his own whims, both in curiosity and a need for entertainment, but perhaps the reactions of those around him could give him some insight to the mentality of the nature of the beast. Idly the man removed a steel marble from his pouch and set it on the floor in front of him. Leaning back in the chair, he stared at the ceiling as the little object rolled. No, he thought, these ships are built to compensate for more weight on one side. Perhaps they compensate just a little to much.

"Keyra. May I have a feather?" he asked stoically, almost thoughtfully, still staring at the ceiling. And then, "Enuren, who does your hair in the morning?" The man's gaze drifted back down to Elruin as he spoke, curious as to what reaction this could cause.

The setting changes from Trinity to Creeds

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#, as written by Thorait
Accurate senses and vigilance seemed to out do his simple spell he could easily read this from Keyra’s expression but what was she thinking? Weaving a spell to read thoughts was something that asked more time and effort than a simple sight spell. No body else wanted his attention so he devoted it to observations and theories. Enuren had to be magically trained she possessed the necessary mental discipline for it. Elruin noted she wasn’t breathing it bothered him because he hadn't’t yet mastered that particular skill. Sevral was the one Elruin didn't care about he just wanted to ignore the man but the second he asked Keyra for a feather and then Enuren about her hair dresser he snapped. His right hand buried his nails in the arms of the chair but he didn't speak or show any response on his face expect a blank expression. He hated lighthearted people because he always saw it as a mockery of live and intelligence but it wasn't enough to break his self control instead he turned his head to look at Dravon with a bored look in his eyes.

The setting changes from Creeds to Trinity

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#, as written by Siryn
((Many Thanks to Centi for helping with this post :) ))
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"Keyra. May I have a feather?"

Keyra startled, her eyes widening slightly as she sat there with arms crossed in the midst of listening to the conversation around her. Glancing over to her right, she spotted the man who'd asked her for such a thing. No one had ever asked her for a... feather... before. What a strange human... Lifting an eyebrow she gave a bit of a frown but extended the wing on her right so that she could reach it.

Her fingers delicately brushed through the pure white feathers that were velvety soft until one came free on its own. It wasn't all that much to her really, her feathers were constantly shedding to be replaced with newer ones. Losing one wasn't going to hurt anything. Even so the request was still... odd?

Stretching out her hand, the feather between her first and middle fingers, she handed it to him. Her hawk like gaze scanned over him, noting the two swords on either hip. He was simply dressed with black hair that framed his face in straight locks. She lifted a thinly curved eyebrow as she regarded him.

"Why do you wish to have it?" she asked smoothly genuinely curious as to his reasons.

Sevral was content with the reaction he'd received from Elruin. The man needed a life lesson, and Sevral could almost feel the condescension and loathsome nature emanating from this man in response to what he probably simply assumed was a mere show of whimsical self pandering. In a way it was true, but Sevral's nature gave him answers. Sevral didn't dislike the man, but he wasn't a fan of anyone who boasted their superiority due to a birthright and augmented abilities due to a magical inclination. He meant no disrespect either, but was simply deciding exactly to what extent someone like this could be trusted. Only the movement of Keyra in his peripheral vision, and Elruin's turning to face their Captain is what broke Sevral's unwavering, stoic stare.

Turning to Keyra, he admired the elegance of her wings as they moved, and then he leaned forward slightly to accept the feather. He held the shaft delicately, rotating it between his thumb and forefinger. "These feathers aren't built for flight," Sevral mused, almost to himself. "Nor can they withstand great amounts of water. They are unlike Duck feathers, the fibers do not seal completely." Sevral glanced up to Keyra. "I apologize for my abruptness, let me show you my reasoning."

Sevral, still gingerly holding the feather, reached with his other hand into his satchel and produced a small sketchpad. Using his thumb, he flipped up the cover to reveal a scratch-impression of another feather entitled 'hawk', with the feather itself taped to the next page. He turned a page. 'Duck, Chicken, Falcon,' and a variety more, each displayed as the hawk's feather was. "Do you know what's interesting?" he asked curiously, pressing Keyra's feather beneath a blank page. Removing a pencil from his breast pocket, he placed the lead flag and rubbed it carefully on the paper. The impression came through. Sevral handed her the pad and sat, looking at her. "How easy it is to capture the impression of true beauty in art, but never strive to capture the true beauty itself. To look at a shadow, but never grasp what created it." Sevral held the feather on his palm now towards Keyra. "Too many people do this."

Her gaze watched him carefully as he examined her feather. He was very observant to garner that she could not sustain flight nor getting the feathers soaking wet. Her gaze shifted to a book that he produced and started to shift through to show her the other feathers that he'd collected and made impressions of. In a way they were all very beautiful, very unique. She was slightly enamored by it.

Keyra's yellow eyes watched his every move as he pressed her feather against a clean page and made another impression there. When he finished, he passed the book to her which she took carefully and examined. Her fingers stretched out and brushed across the page, gently touching where her feather had been pressed.

His next words took her for a spin as well. What was he getting at? Flattery? Maybe. Or maybe he was just talking to talk, break the thin silence between them all even as conversation from the others had filled the small space between them. She allowed a very small smile to pull her lips as she turned to hand him the book back. Sevral held out her feather to her. She reached over and curled her fingers under his to close them over the white piece of fluff.

"Perhaps you'll strive to capture true beauty itself then, swordsman? You've already a piece of it," she returned.

Sevral smiled pleasantly back at Keyra and leaned slightly in his chair, his head tilted to one side as his gaze drifted over her. He considered her question thoughtfully, his hand still wrapped delicately around her feather. He'd always strive for perfection, for true beauty, but there was always some flaw. In each of his creations as he looked at them, there was always a flaw. In the feathers of his book, there would be flaws. Perhaps a feather was ripped, perhaps the lead broke during the process of making the impression, leaving an awful mark. But perhaps that was what made it truly beautiful? Sevral still didn't know for himself. Some people just didn't want to enjoy things, so one could never please them. To those people, it would never truly be worth their time to enjoy, and so Sevral's art was a vanity attempt.

"I do try," he said softly, "and thank you. This feather will serve a great purpose. I however am still conflicted on whether or not one truly can capture beauty correctly." The man glanced down to the feather. "What of you?" An eyebrow arched as Sevral's gaze came back to face Keyra. "A Vall with the eyes as brilliant as you possess. Surely it provides a certain vantage point from which anyone willing to listen could gain an opinion?"

A thought ran through Sevral's mind as he spoke. He didn't intend to run them from the conversation, but he dismissed their presence nonetheless. Elruin had already decided he'd bother with more important things than a lowly crafter's nonsensical whims, and Sevral could only assume that the Captain would remain silent to observe how his crew interacted. Sevral wondered briefly how the Captain felt about this group. The exposition of each other was merely a phase, but so far no one had really attempted anything else. The man's eyes flicked to Dravon momentarily. Sevral wouldn't make it his duty, but he genuinely wanted the feather, and if it had opened this tangent which had allowed him to begin breaking the ice, he would follow it. He looked to Keyra for her answer.

Keyra's eyes dropped up and down, seizing up his frame as her lips twitched again into another faint smile, "You've a way with words, swordsman," she said. She lifted up a leg and crossed it over the other as she leaned back, settling against the chair with her body turned just enough so that she could face him without straining her neck.

"Beauty comes in all shapes and sizes. Everything is beautiful in it's own right. However to me, what is the most beautiful can only be seen through the colors of what one shows upon fighting. An honorable fighter- an honorable warrior- is the most beautiful of all in every aspect of the word. Would you care to show me yours?"

"There is no other way with words than to simply speak," Sevral said almost absentmindedly. "As for my own opinion... As I said, it is conflicted. As an artist I am ever changing, adapting to what would become new and acceptable, as well as daring to venture into what has yet to be tempted. My craft is as close to beauty as I may get. That is, it is the art I have perfected. The beauty I have been able to grasp and create and share with those around me. Truly the art of combat is just as exhilarating, and it reveals much about the person, but the weapon of choice, be it magic," Sevral glanced to the other woman, "snapping necks," his gaze shifted to Elruin, "or whatever else."

His eyes returned to Keyra, resting momentarily on her blade. "The weapon is said to match the warrior if he or she truly wants to be efficient. If your weapon is not an extension of yourself, it matters not the style or how you fight. You must fight as yourself, hence how one's combat reflects themselves, and you cannot do that with something that is not yourself. My craft is myself, and my craft is whoever wishes to procure it, whether for combat or aesthetics. For that I try to make it beautiful. For that, I try to find what beauty is, but for now, I am still figuring it out."

Sevral fell silent now as he admired Keyra's blade. He was still attempting to discern its functionality in combat, and he'd be sure to investigate more. "Your blade for instance," he began again, this time much softer, as if he were still working through his words in his mind. "Hmm." The thought fell short. Sevral was lost in his own thoughts before he finally seemed to realize he'd trailed. Clearing his throat, he nodded and smiled. "Apologies. Where did you get your craft?"

Keyra listened attentively to Sevral, humming softly in agreement to him regarding the use of weapons being one with their wielder, "You're very wise, Sevral of the Creeds," she said tilting her head off to the side at the end of his speech, "You and I share the same views regarding weaponry. I think in time you'll find what you're looking for."

She noted that his gaze had fallen down to the enormous weapon strapped to her lower back. He'd started to say something, but stopped and eventually changed his thoughts entirely. Reaching back, the Vall undid the clip that held the sheath and weapon to the belt on her back. Lifting it easily, she pulled it up to lean against the chairs between them.

"This blade was made for me by a blacksmith in my world. He was... very good to me," she said as she eyed the blade with a bit of affection for it. Bittersweet memories surfaced briefly before she shoved them back down.

"And yours? Not many carry two blades as I've seen."

Sevral watched the weapon intently. It was a truly captivating piece of craftsmanship. It must be rotation based... Exceptional for defensive purposes. Combined with the lithe form of Keyra, he could only assume that it was a devastating piece of art. Further empowered by her wings which must serve no other purpose, besides beauty, than for heightening her speed and agility by process of elimination, and the way she had moved it already with seemingly no effort despite the size ratio between wielder and craft...Sevral nodded approvingly. The recovery time must be little to nothing. One of the reasons Sevral himself never had an affection for broadswords. He wished to examine it further, but he knew better. Keyra's voice was what finally drew him from his enthrallment.

"The crafter was a brilliant man, no doubt." Sevral said, feeling as though he might have just caught a glimpse of .. melancholy.. nostalgia? The man dismissed it. "I look forward to seeing its performance, though I hope it isn't entirely necessary."

The man glanced down to the dual blades which hung at his sides. He tried to appear modest, to not beam too proudly. He didn't quite succeed. "These," he spoke, "are my craft, and are thus myself. Both blades identical except in one manner. For reasons of my own purpose, I shan't elaborate, and I apologize for that, but I expect that you will indeed learn in time. I had made these some time ago. In fact, I haven't crafted since. These are the pinnacle of my expertise, the last of my production since I had ended my modest guild. I had planned on roaming this world in order to locate the answers to the questions with which you are now acquainted, and only then would I begin my work again. These blades are the single pieces I have kept for myself, for they were made for myself so that I never forget where I left off. Only one of them has ever been unsheathed. The other has yet to be required in any situation."

Sevral hated talking only about himself. He disliked sounding vain, but if the question was asked, he may as well answer. He decided he still wasn't satisfied with what he had. "I thank you for your compliments, and I do hope that I find my answers." The man paused, smiled and then added with a light chuckle, "Perhaps that is what I shall ask for should we succeed in this mission." Sevral nodded to himself, then looked down to the feather still in his hand. "Thank you, Keyra." he said again, content with their exchange. Knowledge for a feather.

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Enuren sat back, observing the rest of the group now that her conversation with the captain was done. She watched noting that Sevral was sizing everyone up. He too seemed keen to observe everyone.

She watched as he removed a marble from a pouch. Her eyes followed him as he sat back and then moved to the marble.

Enuren was intrigued as Sevral asked Keyra for a feather though her head tilted questioning as he asked about her hair. She blinked a few times at him.

Elruin seemed bored, the Captain said nothing at first but Keyra looked startled. Enuren said nothing as the two began to talk. She watched as Keyra moved her wing and remove a feather. They seemed intent on their conversation so she refrained from answering Sevral’s unusual question.

The pair were intent on the feather. They talked of beauty, of Keyra’s sword and then Sevral mentioned his blades and how he had crafted them. Enuren marked the blades and Keyra’s own sword. These weapons were to be admired and she had no doubt that they were both capable of using them well.

When they finished their talk Enuren looked over at Sevral. “The wind does my hair. Is there a reason you inquire?”

She looked at him questioning. His question had been strange to begin with, add to that the marble and Enuren could not figure out what the man was thinking.

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As the group conversed they could feel the sway of the ship listing slightly, it was descending downward. Dravon was first to rise knowing full well that the destination was not far behind but not before peering out from the main window once more to see a new sight that was edging its way into view.

Beyond the tops of the city sky line there was a vast metal dome that sat in the background of all view from the ship. It was this encapsulating form that held the Breach itself at bay from touching the rest of the city at hand. Its orb like outer shell gleaming in the light of the now dying sun as it fell beyond the foreign mountain ranges to the east. But every so often a great door would open from the top of the dome and then it would be time for ships of all makes and sizes to bring themselves through. It was not long before the view ended as the ship made its way lower towards its landing point, situated on a lower tier of the city itself.


The gangplank lowered itself and that allowed for the bustling sound of work and machinery to come through into the cabin of the ship. As the group exited onto the platform they could see that far above was the city itself and that now they sat on the lowest portion of the city that one could walk freely.
Several men in uniforms were waiting at the other end of the platform, their bodies covered in leather and padding. With spun copper plates that glittered in the dancing flames that lite the platforms sides. One of them nodded to the group as they disembarked from the ship and waved over to his captain. Though each mans face was covered their eyes were easily visible from the metal of the helmets they wore.

"Come to boys.." A voice resounded as the small group split and there stood a man with helmet in hand.

"Its good to see our guest arrived safely." The man was of age for service with lite blonde hair and deep blue eyes. Barely a mark on his face for a healed scar under his left eye. The crest on his helmet was a sign of his command over the group and he approached the new arrivals. "Well.. Now that your all here we can begin." He waved a motion to another of his men and he pulled a lever, this caused the platform to split in half as it lowered into the earth.

"I must admit that I am surprised to see such an interest group in such a place.." He cuts away for a moment as the small talk was well and past in his mind.
"I am captain Montague, my troop and I will accompany you as per the Counts orders."

"As you know there is trouble brewing down in the tunnels.. from what the miners tell us there was a cave in at one of their largest digs and the passage was blocked. We have men trying to clear the way now so the route should be clear when we arrive. Any questions before we make it down there..?" The men behind him were sharpening their swords and spears, some had shields and even a few had firearms the likes of which only the guilds could produce. The twelve of them were a sizable force but it was easy to see that some of them were green to their own duties.

Antony placed his pipe in his sash and only looked back at the group with a slight shrug in his shoulders. "I've got to say its been a while since I've been spelunking.. can we expect any trouble?" He asked as he looked back at the captain. The man laughed and responded "Not really no, all we know of in the tunnels are mire rats and the Krawl.."

The setting changes from Trinity to Creeds

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Character Portrait: Dravon Morsano Character Portrait: Sevral Character Portrait: Elruin Halfin
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#, as written by Thorait
The sight of the vast dome that held the breach was enough to draw his attention away from the people that looked more and more like complete fools. The thought he had to rely on these
half wits made Elruin a little nervous after all they would either face something of enormous power or just walk around in empty caves for a day. The ship seemed to land and he got to meet the foot folk that would probably serve as their meat shields when it came to it not that they looked incompetent it was just their job. He turned his attention to Sevral, his voice sounded bored but you could hear some tension in it “If it comes to it I hope we will be able to work together.” He pulled his eyes form the man confident to ignore him if it really came to it he would happily leave him and the rest for whatever lived in the bowels of Creed.

From a racial point of view he had always pitied humans they just looked so frail to him it was admirable they fought at all but he couldn’t help but admire the weapons they used especially the guns fascinated him. He suddenly noticed Dravon was conversing with the captain of the small group. Suddenly he saw a change to voice his suspicions to Dravon and the captain both men had to understand there was something wrong with this “If I may ask you something captain, why have we been hired? The counsel seems resourceful it would be easier to send eighty squads like your own then to gather five very expensive mercenaries. Now I’m voicing my concerns I would like to tell you Dravon it’s likely this mission is ‘different’ from what we expect and I don’t appreciate surprises.” He cloaked his words in just enough formality to appear friendly but not enough to hide his suspicion.

The setting changes from Creeds to Trinity

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Character Portrait: Enuren Character Portrait: Dravon Morsano Character Portrait: Keyra Character Portrait: Sevral Character Portrait: Elruin Halfin
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#, as written by Siryn
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Keyra noted their Captain getting to his feet. Dravon looked out the window briefly, drawing her sharp gaze to where he was looking. The enormous structure that they were coming upon was like dome with the light of the sun flashing across it's curving structure. Soon, the ship dropped down enough to the point where the fading sunlight all but vanished. Slowly, the Vall got to her feet as well and prepared to disembark off the ship. She followed behind Dravon who led the way off the ship and onto a platform where a group of men started towards them.

"Its good to see our guests arrived safely. Well.. Now that your all here we can begin." A young knight with blonde hair and dark blue eyes spoke as they all got off of the ship and onto the structure before them. For such a young man he already was marked with the burdens of war. The light scar of his face told her that much anyway. He flicked his hand back and one of the other knights pulled a lever. The entire platform they all stood on shuddered as it split from the main structure and began its decent.

Keyra's wings flushed open to help keep her balance as it was almost akin to falling. She was unused to such a structure. Nothing like this resided in her world.

"I must admit that I am surprised to see such an interest group in such a place.. I am captain Montague, my troop and I will accompany you as per the Counts orders."

Keyra watched the man carefully, sizing up his words as he spoke. She flicked her gaze around the group of men that were to accompany them down into the tunnels. They seemed armed enough to be of some use, though she was doubtful that if anything truly serious happened, they would all end up getting in the way.

"As you know there is trouble brewing down in the tunnels.. from what the miners tell us there was a cave in at one of their largest digs and the passage was blocked. We have men trying to clear the way now so the route should be clear when we arrive. Any questions before we make it down there..?"

"I've got to say its been a while since I've been spelunking.. can we expect any trouble?" Their Captain answered. Keyra glanced up to him as she was much shorter than most everyone around her.

"Not really no, all we know of in the tunnels are mire rats and the Krawl.."

To this Keyra frowned deeply. Were they feigning ignorance at the fact that the council sent them because of the lost group of men down in the tunnels? The council hadn't heard anything from these men in a very long time, hence the reason for sending their group, at least that was what the Vall had been under the impression of. However, at that moment she was beginning to have her doubts and she didn't like the implications at all.

“If I may ask you something captain, why have we been hired? The counsel seems resourceful it would be easier to send eighty squads like your own then to gather five very expensive mercenaries. Now I’m voicing my concerns I would like to tell you Dravon it’s likely this mission is ‘different’ from what we expect and I don’t appreciate surprises.”

An eyebrow arched as she listened in to the ash fiends words as he spoke with Dravon. He was voicing her own concerns as well. Even so, she would still do what was asked of her as it was in her nature to do so. But, she would like to have answers to accommodate the current situation. Her eyes turned to the man who was heading the group of knights.

"I very much doubt that mire rats and Krawl have caused the disappearance of a group of men down there. The council sent us because there hasn't been word from this place for quite some time. Would you care to explain that?"

The setting changes from Trinity to Creeds

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Character Portrait: Enuren Character Portrait: Dravon Morsano Character Portrait: Keyra Character Portrait: Sevral Character Portrait: Elruin Halfin
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#, as written by Centi85
Sevral smiled warmly to Enuren as she inquired to his earlier question. The man leaned back, gently shutting Keyra’s feather between the pages of his book before concealing it once more within his satchel. He was silent for a moment, staring at the far wall before he turned to her again. “Quite simply,” he began, “because I find your hair to be most beautiful.” The man took another moment to collect his thoughts, as if considering her answer, finally nodding as though he had come to a conclusion that pleased him.

“It makes sense,” Sevral spoke, almost as if he were conferring with some being only he could see. “The wind, a natural force provoking a natural beauty
 Yes, it makes sense.” Sevral looked to Enuren again and bowed his head politely, “I apologize for my madness, though it is genuine.”

--

Sevral had always moved with a certain purpose about him. His gait was even; never moving slowly enough that he wasted time getting to his destination, but still not traveling so quick that he’d miss something particularly interesting whilst on the move. His feet never dragged, and his steps, though confident, were not heavy with braggadocio. His boots clicked in an almost too perfect of a rhythm, barely audible. Whether the man’s movements were because Sevral was aware that good footwork was the literal basis and root for any combatant, or if it were simply the man’s nature to be modest and never waste time, but yet not sacrifice alacrity and destination over journey, even he wasn’t sure. It was most likely a mixture of both.

The man’s eyes scanned his surroundings as he came to a stop with the rest of the group who had been conjoined with an accommodation of soldiers and a man who had introduced himself as Captain Montague. Sevral’s mind drifted momentarily to an old text he’d once read concerning such a name. The man shrugged the idea away after a short moment before inspecting the armor and weapons of the dozen or so men who had joined them. The weapons were capable enough, and Sevral nodded, satisfied at the sight of the guild firearms. Currently the precipice of life-taking ingenuity, it was oddly combined with their uniforms. Leather and pads with copper plating; Sevral wasn’t terribly impressed. Copper was highly ductile and brittle and worked better as edges to a mace or arrow, something that was easily disposable or could shatter for increased killing potential, or merely detailing to any other objects. As a weapon it merely lacked the strength to keep a fine edge or proper geometry under certain circumstances. As armor it tended to buckle more than it did reflect. It was obvious that these men were no exceptional fighting force, and depending on how chaotic things get, they could be quite a hindrance. But then again there were more variables than Sevral intended to deduce. The man shrugged, deciding instead that he’d be content with watching the reflection of the torchlight dance along the brilliantly polished metal.

“If it comes to it I hope we will be able to work together.”

Sevral raised a curious eyebrow at Elruin. The man wasn’t sure if this were an act of reassurance, or a voicing of opinion against Sevral’s own abilities. The beginning descent of the platform definitely seemed to add an ominous undertone for the latter. But then again, why did it have to be anything? Sevral allowed himself to accept the man’s words for their face value. Elruin had turned away anyway, so it wasn’t worth bothering. Nevertheless, Sevral did find himself disliking the current situation. As it was, the Council had gathered such a seemingly miscellaneous team and then was now literally throwing them into a pit against such a seemingly formidable, unknown threat, and then allowing this group figure exactly how to deal with it and each other; Sevral wasn’t sure if he liked the odds of that. It may have proven more efficient to speak while they had the chance rather than tempt fate, hoping everyone could get along without vanity overpowering better judgment or morality. It wasn’t that Sevral distrusted, more so he was cautious.

“If I may ask you something captain, why have we been hired? The counsel seems resourceful it would be easier to send eighty squads like your own then to gather five very expensive mercenaries. Now I’m voicing my concerns I would like to tell you Dravon it’s likely this mission is ‘different’ from what we expect and I don’t appreciate surprises.”

Cannon fodder was the first idea that came to mind. Sevral was no fan of any such cynical or treacherous thoughts, especially on account of the Council, but it was a common tactic. A small precise group would be utilized rather than a large-scale blitzkrieg in order to save unit count. If the enemy were known and accounted for due to prior scouting-the lost group mentioned by the Count-, a new auxiliary group would be utilized along with several proxies to stand in should Death throw in a wildcard. No number of troops would guarantee that everyone lived, but a dozen sufficed in ensuring that the scalpel survived long enough to remove whatever tumor was festering on the minds of their buyer. The price mattered not if whatever malevolent force obliterated the group after they had finished what they needed to, even if that particular mission didn’t solve the problem but merely opened the gate for the problem to a final strike after their success and unfortunate demise of the previous group in eliminating whatever key component. It saved life and money. But it was indeed a gamble.

But of course there were still multiple explanations, and thus Sevral allowed the Council the benefit of the doubt. Whatever their motives, the man would carry out his orders to the fullest extent of his being and be content with any ending so long as he fulfilled his duty. The simple, complacent life of a soldier; Sevral smiled at his own thoughts. Oh how easy it is to be unburdened with a mind.

"I very much doubt that mire rats and Krawl have caused the disappearance of a group of men down there. The council sent us because there hasn't been word from this place for quite some time. Would you care to explain that?"


Sevral smiled wryly, thinking now of a pack of mutated mine rats abducting several soldiers and whomever else, dragging them to their-no. Damn your mind, Sevral thought to himself. But still, so far Elruin and Keyra have seemed to speak what was no doubt on the minds of everyone present, and yet something still gnawed at Sevral’s subconscious. He just couldn’t out what it was he wanted to ask.

“You were commissioned by the Count, yes?” Sevral spoke, surprising himself by inadvertently allowing himself a tactful yet respectful step forward. “If I may be so bold as to ask, Captain, what information were you given on the situation? From what the Count had said concerning not having received any word from the group Keyra had mentioned, would you not think to enlist more seasoned and armed units?”

Sevral spoke with a certain analytical matter-of-factness, not putting down the troops they had, but simply being realistic in the observation that they did seem insufficient if the previous deployment had gone MIA. He was content either way, and truthfully the question was merely to satisfy his own reconciling. Whatever answer he received could support his previous explanation as to the motives of the Council, or allow for another tangent to be studied.