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Fire Emblem on Forums: Tiny Steps Prologue: Redoubtful Beginnings Redoubt, Scholars' Redoubt As one of the two capitals of the Scholars' Redoubt (itself one of the very few regions of the known world bustling and organized enough to even have those), even in normal circumstances the area outside of the Redoubt is a flurry of activity, with various traders and civilians going around their business in what is a fairly lively city despite its military purpose, not to mention the soldiers and messengers flitting around in order to carry out and communicate their leaders' wills whenever said leaders are at a meeting of the Council of Leaders that lies within the walls of this former human house. Were one to be inside that house, they would find in the lower floor scores of little structures along the floors of most of the house's rooms, as well as holes and ladders in the walls, or converted spaces in the furniture -- the varied and ad-hoc kinds of spaces for bug habitation that mark any bug city, a residential mess where a rather staggering amount of bugs inhabit a space designed for beings far, far larger than them. Going to the upper floor through the ramps and climbs carved painstakingly into what humans had used as stairs, one finds the commercial rooms and workman's rooms, where scattered across the space in a better-organized but still somewhat dizzying manner are shops and artisans' workspaces, a constant noise of many bugs talking and creating and living a taken-for-granted companion in every room except for, here at the Redoubt, one: what had been a place where humans had once hung their garments, lanterns on the walls, seats arranged in the center of the space, various guards standing around the rest of the room at most times. This was the Council of Leaders itself, the place where the mightiest and most important military and commercial leaders of the Scholars' Redoubt met in order to discuss the relationships between their cities, towns, companies, and bands, to discuss the outside world, and to organize their collective obligations. This was where much of the process of organizing the delegations that were being sent to the Scholars' Redoubt had taken place, with bugs grouped up and sent out mostly north to the Scholars' University. But the Council of Leaders had become pretty sick of all of this happening in their chamber, so that's not where the bugs of the last delegations to be sent out were. No, these last delegations were outside, on the paved path from the house out to the small (if only relatively, considering bugs' size) human street that connected many of the ant cities of the Scholars' Redoubt, with various bugs out in the grass and along that pavement. One group was on the path itself, currently, containing no fewer than nine bugs. Six of these bugs were various foreigners and low-level bugs of the Scholars' Redoubt, mostly formed into a group facing across from the three other bugs, all high-ranking officials of the Scholars' Redoubt -- movers and shakers in the region, but right now merely three of the few leaders of the Council who cared enough (each for their own reasons) to personally oversee the efforts to get the delegations going. One of these was a purple-haired woman with a large proboscis sticking notably and rather awkwardly right out of her face, terminating below it where it met with her cheekbone. She was dressed in red and grey clothing, loose and rich-looking, but still quite easy to move in. This was Coyote Crash, leader of one of one of the more powerful mosquito bands of the Scholars' Redoubt, the Roadside Band -- her graceful looks belied an unyielding strength that had allowed her to accept the charge of a much, much larger animal during her youth. She was the most recent arrival among the bugs of this group, with a young and rather excitable-looking mosquito trailing behind her. "Here, I'm now present with..." she looked around. "who looks like the last member of this particular delegation. I apologize for our tardiness -- my band has been hunting in the northeast recently, so it took some time to travel." She lacked a speech impediment because her proboscis was on her cheek just high enough to avoid seriously disturbing the movements of her mouth, but it was a close thing. "It doesn't help that my band-member here can... make it hard to places quickly." There was a sigh here -- the woman had been exposed to too much of her younger compatriot's energy for far too long. "Come on, Sting -- why don't you get into the group there? That's the delegation you'll be traveling with." Another one of these three leadership figures was Hierarch Unbending of the City of Industry -- he was the leader of one of the larger red ant cities of the Redoubt, one which may have admittedly lagged behind some of the other red ant cities in terms of raw military might, but which was a powerhouse of craftsmanship that produced many of the goods used in the Redoubt, even (begrudgingly) by the black ant cities, carried by both red ant traders and fly companies. Hierarch Unbending was himself known as a rather stubborn and sometimes ornery man (his name had not come from nothing, after all), but that stubbornness backed an insistence on actually getting things done, even if he had to involve himself -- something not always easy, because he had the legs of an ant, and the lack of feet required him to lean on a cane to keep his balance whenever standing. "I suppose that it's better late than never, but I would like to have had this process completed two days ago. I know that..." here, he searched for his words carefully, "some of us may have other priorities with this than strictly efficiency, but this has been reaching the point of being frankly unreasonable. Some respect must be paid to these obligations." He moved somewhat awkwardly for a few moments, then, turning towards the now-fully-assembled group of six standing in front of him. "Right. General Bright is going to be explaining to you your mission, but I am going to ask for a roll call, to ensure that there are no mistakes here -- I've been told that six of you were taken from... various sources, so that does match, but I want your names and who sent you once the General finishes." The third leadership figure was General Bright, leader of the black ant city of Bastion Black-on-Black, renamed during the Peace Wars ten years ago as it had been a major point of the heavy warfare between the black ants of the Scholars' Redoubt and the Loyalist black ants of the east. Nowadays, it was one of the premier military cities of the Scholars' Redoubt, with its soldiers well-equipped and extremely well-trained as a result of the experience and resources it had gained from its enemies and allies respectively. General Bright was named (actually, had named himself upon taking leadership) off of the gleaming armor that he proudly wore -- metal armor, and not just that, but a high-quality set of armor purchased from The Smiths... and he was known for being rather vain about that, despite the leadership talent he really did have. Two extra legs jutted from his back near his ribs. "Alright, bugs! Listen up -- you are going to be sent by this illustrious Council," he shifted his pose to make the light gleam off of his armor in different ways, almost subtly, drawing a long-suffering eye-roll from Hierarch Unbending, "to be one of the delegations to the Scholars' Redoubt. We have been told that a scholar by the name of "Brilliant Deduction" is requesting one of our delegations help her with a project, and you are the delegation that we will be assigning to this duty. For now, you are simply to head up north to the Scholars' University and report there, and receive further instruction from the scholars there, finally doing whatever task Brilliant Deduction has in mind. There is not time for this to be a sluggish process, so you are ordered to make a quick pace there, but not so fast that you are unable to attend to your own safety from criminals, raiders, or animals. Feel free to take some time to introduce yourselves to each other now, however." Now, then, it would be time for Hierarch Unbending's roll call, among the six other bugs on the scene -- an imposing mantis in black armor on a bird (he attracted quite a few eyes), a smaller and pinker mantis archer, a large and armored bee and a smaller, younger, and less armored bee, the terrifyingly energetic mosquito who had just arrived, and a rather dinged-up looking black ant. Ebon Knight, Lotus, Pinecone, Stardust, and Sting are in! (And the NPC Recruit Bend.)

Prologue – Wanted: Virtuous Taking the usual paths is about as safe as a normal, unwanted person wandering into a heavily armored fortress for you all, so you strayed off path for your next mission of causing chaos while simultaneously helping to bring down the corrupt society. You were Virtuous, the infamous band known for causing trouble around the world, notably in the northern regions. You were a blight upon the world as criminals that could not be caught no matter how hard people tried, and in the minuscule amount of cases someone succeeded, they’d find themselves knocked out, or even wiped out, with Virtuous nowhere to be found. Even if someone caught a glimpse of them, no one knew the real identities of those in Virtuous; just a few people in flashy costumes and masks, and eight names. Knight. Ficus. Scarlet. Minstrel. Orchid. Dragon. Mink. And nobody could forget the name of their leader, Phoenix. However, despite everyone’s opinions of you, you were not simply criminals. Sure, you had that streak of craftiness and occasional thievery, you at least had justification for it compared to most criminals. War was afoot in Purgus, and Virtuous provided a much needed distraction from that. In the meantime, there was only one true goal for Virtuous; find out what happened to the once-peaceful continent of Purgus to make it so corrupt. Even if the answer wasn’t pretty, even if it boiled down to simple human stupidity, you had to trace it back to its roots and figure out a solution. Because if you don’t bring down the horrid corruption on the continent of Purgus, who will? Your current location was in the kingdom of Perus, a little further out from the border of Ceda. Though you are well known for your exploits, you can’t often risk going too far from Ceda too often, as Ceda is just about the only region you can comfortably show your faces without disguises… but even then, disguises are almost a necessity. You never knew what was around the corner. However, this was a blessing; getting into Perus was a cinch as the borders were relatively lax considering Ceda’s lack of interest in Perus, and Perus was often the perfect target for mischief. In Perus, you had a mission; take down a prison well-known for housing criminals from around the world due to prison overcrowding, simultaneously taking it down, taking it over and freeing the inmates inside in order to cause a scandal to hit Perus’s ego hard (a feat easy to do, considering how fragile Perus’s ego was). However, whatever your leader Kane has planned for the prison, regardless of what you knew and didn’t know, it was certainly a long while away and your feet are starting to get tired. You had a wagon a while ago, as you all wear disguises rather than your usual attire you need to cover when going through public roads, but it had to be ditched as the wheels broke off, and you had to take the scenic route. Despite this blunder, Kane, clad in his mask that covered half of his face and resembled two flaming wings going across his ears, pressed onward as if this little incident never happened. “Don’t worry, not only will I remember to not go for the cheapest option next time I get a wagon, but I haven’t planned for us to walk the whole way to our destination. We were going to be doing something up ahead here, and as a bonus, we should be coming up on our ride pretty soon. Just hang tight, okay? I don’t plan to start steering you guys wrong now.” The fields start to get more densely wooded as you progress, and up ahead, you start to see a more mountainous area, surrounded by forest… here’s hoping Kane isn’t lying to you. Ferdiad, Shin, Baldur, Lizaveta, Justine, Cecily and Lenore may post!

Chapter 1: Break Out! Teacher vs Pupil! Year 1420, Month ??? Day ??? Your endless toil continues. After that strange boy talked to you no short time ago, nothing happened. Was he just some sort of lost soul who went mad? Maybe it was just your imagination. Either way, this doesn’t change your current situation. Those physically able help lug huge slabs of hellstone bricks into place, some help chisel out said bricks or cast them into molds, and others toil away at the ground making the ground level and fit for construction.There is no time for rest as all souls are whipped and forced to work at full speed. Underworldly wretches keep all in check, tightening chains, whips of fire, and all means of “motivation”. After some unknown time, a break is issued as collapsed workers always lead to delays. Your body’s have become all too used to these long hours followed by short breaks. However, your break comes to you strangely early as its jarring on an instinctual level. Your soul prepared for another long session is shaken up by this sudden course. You’re led individually to an area of the Sotiria you’ve not yet been before. You are given clean views of the looming castle of Tartarus, where the Chthonic gods reside, before being brought inside the Sotiria itself. The air feels much fresher in here, or maybe it's the lack of ash and the smell of burning charcoal. Your journey ends in a small room whose purpose is yet unknown as it's quite empty, devoid of any furnishings whatsoever. Slowly, more and more folks trickle in, each colorful in their own unique way yet all are still in shackles. Well, save for one girl. What’s going to happen? Every moment of silence feels like an eternity in this silent room, especially with the stares of everyone in the room. Maybe someone should break the ice? . . . Or don’t and let it be lame and awkward. I can’t force y’all to have fun. ALL ACCEPTED PC'S ARE FREE TO INTERACT!

"The wheel of fate is hard for man to turn, but it is not impossible." - Leknaat, Keeper of Balance PROLOGUE : Under the Flag of Unity Solis Y3302, Summerswax Motion and the lively tumult of countless voices and bodies fill the air and streets of the City of Flowers. For centuries, this has been the way of life in Antei, the commercial heart of southern Caliss, where people clip along at the quick pace of business and trade under the protection of high ivory walls. From the west, crisp winds blow in from the mountain peaks, bringing with them the smell of freshly melted snow. From the Sacine River to the north file in caravans by the dozens each day, laden with goods and treasures from across the continent, even across the world. The rainbow of tarps stretching across the bazaars and the myriad of cultivated flower beds decorating any spare space lend the city a patchwork appearance, like a brilliant children’s coloring book. “3000 potch for a shawl? I could find one in Gregminster for half the price. 2000 at most.” “Steady! Let me grease the wheel first before you pull!” “Mommy, can I have ice cream? I want the jujube one, like in Lenankamp!” “Pleasure doing business with you, ma’am. You take care.” These voices and many more swirl and meld to create the constant thrum and din. It feels as though there is never enough time to rest for the citizens whisking from one place to the next, lists in their hands and enterprise at their fingertips. But off of the center of town, there is one refuge to be found amidst the chaos. Sequestered in an enclosure of low-ledged white walls like the rest of the alabaster city are the Central Gardens. Here, families and couples customarily enjoy a stroll on stone pathways among carefully trimmed hedges and bushels of blooming flora. But today, the Gardens have been closed off to public entry. Today marks the first collective gathering of the Allied Guard months after its official formation and finalization. From the far corners of Caliss and the Antei Mountains, qualified combatants have been selected to herald the arrival of a new spring for both the young Republic and its allies, the Dragon Knights. After confirming identification and registry at the manor of the city mayor, they are escorted to the Central Gardens and its grassy field. One by one, they will learn the faces of those who will be their comrades at arms for the time to come. Here, in the peace and quiet away from the hubbub of commerce, they are instructed to wait at ease before receiving their first instruction as the unified Allied Guard.

PROLOGUE : Warnings in Frost Mid Autumn "This place is changing, and it's not the season." They're the first words out of Yoriie today, and probably within the last cycle of the sun as a whole. He drops the freshly killed deer carcass slung over his shoulder onto the large tree stump in the middle of the clearing, a clean cut that had severed its windpipe the sole indication of its death. From the holder at his waist, he takes out a knife and sets to slitting open the deer's belly from throat all the way down, warm blood flowing and staining into the old wood as he guts the animal with practiced deliberation. It's too early in the year for the forests to have grown this cold. The leaves have not begun to thoroughly brown, but already Yoriie has brought out the thicker pelts, and temperatures have dropped enough that, some mornings, he awakens to find trails of thin, spidery frost lacing the grass outside. It's unnatural, and it's been encroaching deeper into the woods with the passing months until it's finally reached the nested haven where the boy has dwelt for many years. To the ordinary people of the land, the change would be just that: a strange phenomena this year; an unlucky early winter. But the onmyoji and youkai would turn their senses to a different source: there is something heavy about the snow that has already begun to cover the outer edges of the forest, a distinct feeling of oppression that has seeped between the trees and wound its way around branches and boulders, filling the air with an invisible miasma. Nether force is that which chokes out growth and distorts life into a warped image of itself, evil that corrupts the soul, and though this is the first time Yoriie has ever felt it, his instincts and old teachings identify it clearly enough. Unhappy with the disturbance of the outside world on his sanctuary, Yoriie frowns more deeply as he finishes removing the guts and turns the carcass around to begin skinning it. "..." Something is wrong in this forest.

Chapter 1: The Ice Queen's March Year 1527: 6th of Second Heat The Queen has summoned you. You were lead by servants into a somewhat cramped, oval shaped room. In the middle is the famous round table, with six seats arranged around the table. As the servant instructs you take a seat. As more people arrive, only one seat is left unoccupied and it's easy to guess that it would be the Queen's. The other people who arrived you recognise from around the castle. Maybe you even talked to them, but this is the first time that all five of you are together. Soon afterwards, a servant with a tray full of tea enters the room. You recognise him as Lucan, Rosanne's personal butler that is always present with her. He places a cup of tea in front of each of you. "Master Candide, Lady Neve, Lady Blodeuyn." He refers to each person as he places a cup in front of them. And then there is a clear change in his tone of voice as he addresses the last two. "Lady Mercia, Master Gwyn." With the tea served, he bows his head slightly. "The Queen will be with you shortly." And he takes his leave. A quarter of an hour later, the doors open up again. Rosanne Pendragon walks in, fully armored and with Excalibur at her side. Following her are Lucan and of course, Merlin. She takes her seat on the free chair and makes contact with everyone present, one at a time. And then she begins: "Thank you for coming. I have gathered all of you today, because I have a request. Should you accept, all of you will have the opportunity to serve directly under me, and protect this country from threats." Rosanne paused to gauge everyone's reactions and then continued. "I have chosen each one of you because of your skills, and because I feel like I can trust you. And that is the thing I need the most right now, people who I can trust. Please do not fail me." Lucan takes the cue, and unfurls a map of Tameloc on the centre of the table. The Queen gets up, and unsheathes her excalibur. With the tip she points at the map, specifically at a region near the shores of the Marshlands. "Rumors of the Tsukiochi Empire's invasion are true, as more and more scouts have been found inland. Our navy has intercepted a large vessel out at sea and was unable to sink it. However they must have taken heavy losses. Given the ship's trajectory it will most certainly make ship fall in this area. We will go out and intercept them. The Marshlands are in open rebellion against us but I will make a statement by going myself. I will show them that I fear no one, and will put my life in the line for this country." She lifts her eyes from the map and looks upon you again. "And I ask the same of you as well. Our force will be small so that we may move quickly, it will be the five of you Lucan and Merlin-" "Forgive me, my queen, but I will not be joining you." Merlin interjects. "I have urgent matters that require my attention outside of the capital. I hope that the greatest of my apprentices will suffice in this battle." Rosanne sighs deeply. "So be it. We will be seven, but more than enough to intercept the survivors in the vessel. Additionally, we have information that Lancelot The Black was sighted in a nearby village. After we have dealt with the invaders, we will travel to this village and speak to him if he is there. The Knights of The Round Table still hold a great deal of respect with the people of Tameloc, having one on our side would greatly increase support for our cause and our fighting power." Sheathing Excalibur, the Queen sits back down and pauses for a moment. "I understand that I am asking a lot of you, there is no shame in refusing my request. But if you accept, I expect you to fight with all your might. Might that I know you are all capable of. So, will you join me?"

~~~~RULES~~~~ 1. All non-IC stuff is to be posted at the OOC thread. 2. Post formatting mandatory. As such: Colored normal text for PC speech! Colored italized text for PC thinking. *Colored small text or between asterisks for PC whispering* Normal text for generic descriptive text. Bolded text for PC actions and orders! 3. Order of battle posts: Players' actions -> GM resolves -> Player's actions -> GM resolves ... until all player actions have been posted -> GM posts Enemy/Ally Phase and new turn map -> Start again If you need an action resolved before making another ask in the OOC thread or discord. 4. Don't post until your character is properly introduced! 5. Be active if you can! If you have to be warned several times your character may be automoved or removed from the game. If you can't post for personal reasons, try to warn the rest in the OOC thread. Delegating actions to other people is also allowed. This is more important in battle than RP, but activity in both is preferred.

Chapter 1 Part 2: The Queen In Blue, The King in Red, The Knight In Black This is a continuation of both Excalibur Infernus, and Excalibur Glacius. 9th of Second Heat Rosanne and her group were the first to arrive at Swampmill, just an hour after midday through the west gate of the village. The previous day had been one of battle and then tending to the dead. They then turned in early, and spent the morning traveling. Swampmill could be called a traditional Marshlands village by every definition; it makes good use of the river ways and bogs of the land, the people are simple and solitary, and the whole place is humid and warm. The most defining feature of Swampmill isn't what you'd expect. No, it's not a mill it is a large fountain at the center surrounded by a moat. At the center of the fountain there is a statue dedicated to Lance Moss The Defender, a hero in the Marshlands for being one of the original defenders against the threat of the curse. "Well, here we are. I want you all to fan out the village, and find information about Lancelot The Black." Rosanne instructs, finding a seat on a nearby tree stump. "The Marshlands support the usurper, so avoid mentioning you are the Queen's men. I'll stay here, come and get me if anything happens or if you find any meaningful information on the knight. And of course, be prudent. We never know what might happen."

Prologue: Annatomy of a Saleswoman It's a select few that can make it in an environment as competitive and stratified as the city of Prospero, and among those it was an even more select few that were wholly unrelated to anyone already established within the city. Property values are through the roof here, and the price of rent can only be described as highway robbery for any tenants not willing to settle for the servant's house. Sure, it's a bustling town on most days, the cobblestone streets worn down every day by the ceaseless footsteps of merchants hailing from all across Leocor, and that means an assured customer base--but getting oneself established is the problem. Many have tried, and failed, to make their fortune in this city, and in so doing have ended up either a household name or forced into vagrancy--or worse, a servant's contract. Anna, of course, doesn't much want to take that risk--so, after a trip of about a day or two from their last business venture in Impericum, she's merely opened a street vendor's booth here instead. It's a much safer bet to take, and if you know what to sell and how to signal you're selling you can make just as much if not more than someone operating a storefront. The marketplace she and her company are set up in lies near the entrance to the city proper, and so is a popular place to set up for those who made the same risk-reward calculus she has. The only downside, of course, being...well, it's not as though those rich enough to afford storefronts haven't thought to set up here, either. Leeching her business, in Anna's opinion...but, what can you do? It's a sunny, clear day today, meaning that the foot traffic (and customer base) in this little market square is as busy as it's going to be. So, Anna seems to have finished setting up her booth just in time, exhaling as she wipes a bit of sweat off her brow before heading behind the counter and unpacking her wares. As she unpacks, she keeps her gaze upward at the company assembled before her, that trademark grin gracing her face. "Okay! So, lemme outline how today's gonna go...Cody, Anne, you're gonna stick around nearby and help watch the store, okay? If you catch anybody with sticky fingers near the booth then I'm gonna let you figure out how you wanna deal with them, just so long as they don't take our goods without ponying up. Andy..." "You do whatever you want, y'know? Go where the spirit takes you so long as you don't get caught." She sends a....fairly obvious wink his way. "As for the rest of you..." She gives a small little grunt of effort before producing a stack of flyers from her bag and placing them on the desk. All of them are advertisements for Anna's booth, colorful and full of bombastic language extolling the quality of her goods. "Each of you are gonna take ten of these and get 'em around town. They've got a little charm on them so they can stick to walls--thank you, Kyou--so don't worry about that. Give 'em out, put 'em up around town, plaster them on someone else's shop--I don't much care how you get the word out so long as the word is out that we're selling the best goods this side of the border. That's how you're gonna be earning your payday today. After the fliers are out, you guys can go out and have fun. But, uh..." Once more, she reaches into her bag and pulls out an assortment of rocks, seeming no different than the sort you'd pick up off the street, spreading them out on the table before pulling out and putting on a ruby necklace. "I want you all to take one of these, just in case. When I use them to contact you--and you'll know when I do--I want you to come straight back here, K?" She takes a few moments to finish up putting some items on display before clapping her hands. "Sooo, if nobody has any questions, then I'll let you all get to it! Speak now or forever hold your peace." Everyone is in!

Mission 01 Hellscape City- 4:36 AM “Then he will say to those on his left, ‘Depart from me, you who are cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels.” Matthew 25:41 Hellscape City truly lived up to its name now. What was one a large city had now become battered and broken, its people slain in the streets, tanks patrolling the roads, garrisons of soldiers positioned strategically to cover every method of travel around the city, helicopters constantly moving through the sky. All of this because of the Tomb, jutting out as various pillars and ancient stones in the middle of the entire city. Needless to say, it wasn’t a pretty sight, even when you ignored the utter silence that filled the city. It was only home to demons now. Which was precisely what had to be eliminated. In their own ways, the Devil Hunters called in for the job of eliminating the Tomb had managed to arrive at their rendezvous point, the entrance of the Tomb. As expected, this was where most of the human defenses were organized, a 24 hour watch put up to make sure nothing escaped, and clearly it had a somewhat successful time of it, considering the only recent sources of destruction was found on the pathway that lead down to it. The Tomb’s entrance itself was, in contrast to the practically destroyed path, wasn’t worse for wear. Strange, demonic markings covered the doors themselves, humming with energy, decorative skulls placed as its frame. The doors themselves were slightly ajar, however, revealing nothing but a black abyss inside and a small group of wounded soldiers limping out of it. At the top of the path was a single man, far more civilian looking than the surrounding area, wearing a rather plain suit covered by a black poncho… Which did a good (terrible) job of hiding the fact that he only had one arm. His brown hair was tied into a rather rough ponytail, black eyes boring holes into the approaching soldiers, as he took a drag on a cigarette. Quite obviously, this was Markus, the man who had sent out a call for help. “Hard to believe something like this had been sitting underneath the city” he commented as the Devil Hunters approached, flicking away his cigar as the rest of the soldiers moved past him, both the wounded ones and fresh, “Demons must have a love for putting their shit underneath our stuff. Shit's going to take forever to clean up” he added, before turning to the Devil Hunters. How they had gotten here was up to them. If they had introduced themselves before hand, that was up to them. At the very least, they were here now, which was quite honestly the best news Markus had heard all day.

You pass though the glowing disc, now revealed to be a portal, and it closes behind you with a faint 'vworp'. You find yourself in a starkly beautiful, alpine forest. The sun is rising, painting the tree-dotted landscape in orange and gold. It's pretty chilly out, but the sun is enough to keep you warm. It must be summer. To the east, assuming the sun rises there in this place, you can see a small village. Smoke rises from open-air, clay ovens and log houses, and the entire settlement is surrounded by a stockade made of sharpened logs. A river runs through the town, and they have created a log barricade to keep undesirables from sailing in or out easily. People dressed in furs and occasionally mail armor go about their business, with a far wider range of body types and far less gender discrimination than one might expect from what appears to be a medieval Scandinavian town. Women actually seem a bit more likely than men to be going armed and armored. Dane axes and spears appear to be the weapon of choice, though swords, crossbows, and warhammers are also popular. The only other thing worth noting from this distance is that the sentries shields seem to have been re-painted recently, a crude, hot pink flower symbol covering whatever was on them before. "Santa Maria it's cold!" Vitor exclaims, despite the fact that the rest of you are feeling fine. His tropical heritage is not serving him well here. "Unless anyone has a serious objection, I vote we get out of the cold, or at least go barter for something warmer."

All The Night has begun. Dark beings wander the normally peaceful streets of Kanzakai, hunting unfortunate souls that are out in the Night. But, there were also those bitten by the dark beings, the Voids, and tonight, like most Nights, marked their most active moments. Licht Kreis HQ As per normal, the Licht Kreis HQ was buzzing with activity on tonight, for obvious reasons. Much of the Executioners, at least the ones that weren’t away from the city, were already out on the field, while others made sure information and readings of the city were up to date. The only difference tonight was the young woman standing at the front of the building, most commonly known as the Third Executioner Annabel, leaning on the wall as she waited for the Executioners-In-Training. Abandoned District As per normal, the Abandoned District was dead silent. Not a soul was moving in it, except for the Voids, and a single pair. A large man, sitting inside of a ruined building, and a smaller woman, resting inside of one of his giant, clawed hands. “Lady Linne” Waldstein finally spoke, his gravely voice spurring the woman awake, which was simply her opening her eyes and allowing Waldstein to lift his arm, letting her neatly slide to her feet. “Let’s get to work” Linne replied bluntly, placing both of her hands in her jacket’s pocket and walking out of the building, her light steps followed by the much louder steps of Waldstein, who had to squeeze his way out of the building to follow Linne. Old Residential District For Izumi and Chimi, the Night was rather peaceful so far. There was a surprising lack of activity, not many In Births walking around in plain sight, and the Voids weren’t attacking anyone. Yet, at least. Chimi found himself wandering the vacant streets of Kanzakai… Specifically, the rundown section of the city. The moon had long since risen to signal the Night, which meant that now, the Licht Kreis would be active in monitoring the city and key areas. Though, what that meant for the “Mountain” Emperor was a mystery. Izumi, on the other hand, found herself near the residential area. There were signs of Voids around, mostly slightly damaged walls and streaks of black staining cement. Where they were was a mystery currently, but they had to be near. Riverside Plaza The Night, despite its many horrors, somehow managed to make the Riverside Plaza a relaxing place to be, due to the fact that it was pretty much abandoned, and the lights of the city constantly reflected upon the surface of the river. The only thing that ruined the sight was the fact that the sky was filled with blood red clouds. This is where Jakob, the Tri-Fold Spearman, found himself at this time, staring over the shining river. His most recent client had contacted him a week prior to the Night, and had requested him to meet here for a job. Why inside of a Night, of all places, was something that Jakob would likely find out later. About 30 minutes into his wait, Jakob would finally notice a man approaching him from the otherside of the plaza, dressed in a large, beige trench coat, brown boots, and an equally beige fedora that did a somewhat decent job of hiding his facial features, “I hope I haven’t been keeping you too long. I trust that the Voids have been avoiding this area?” he asked, placing a hand inside one of his pockets.

12* to Starboard, about 3 miles ahead. That's where the ship is pointed right now, at any rate. To Rubbish Island for stocking up. You only just escaped the last Marine Blockade attempting to stop you all. According to local rumor, Rubbish Island is the safest place in the West Blue, in terms of lacking marine presence, anyway. It will take about an hour to reach port. Food is scarce, and a brewery still hasn't been made.

As an Orc, a Robot, and a lady IN a Robot fire high capacity weaponry into the Ammunition Manufacturing room, something happens, a flash of bright light that sends everyone sprawling back onto the ground, Even Alexandria is sent flying like a child wearing cardboard from the gravity waves. A horrible noise erupts from the room as reality itself collapses like a glass floor, the room twists, and a naked black hole begins stretching light towards itself like a greedy hand, grasping at all warmth and light, before exploding violently, sending colorful everythingness across the walls, which stretch and grow, the door is ripped off it's hinges, then it grows back, then it's ripped off again, slightly differently, then it grows back again, this repeats the entire time the room is being distorted. Anyone looking inside at this point would see the mortal eye of god collapsing in on itself into neverending one-ness. Eventually, this ends, and the door slams shut. Now, it seems, the door has transformed itself into a door of a different aesthetic, one shaped like a stylized bullet, brown on top, with a copper shell below. It smells like Ozone and Sulfur, and the smell does not seem to be ceasing any time soon.

Everyone's on the Bus. Yes, all of them.

Our tale begins in the town of Brindol, made famous during the time of the vile Red Hand army’s invasion. It was here where many soldiers, mercenaries and warriors lost their lives holding off an unending tide of goblins, trolls, ogres, orcs and even dragons. While the town defended itself from this onslaught, a group of brave adventurers sneaked behind enemy lines, and slew the vile half-dragon Akarr Kul, leader of the Red Hand, in his own temple dedicated to Tiamat (the goddess of Greed). Thanks to the cunning plan of Brindol's brave heroes, the Red Hand’s great army splintered and were pursued, isolated, and crushed. The host of the Red Hand was no more. After the town's victory celebrations, it was decreed, by the city’s ruling council, that day would become an annual holiday. On this day, people would remind themselves and their kin just how close they were to almost being destroyed by an army of evil and greed. It is the early evening, 60 years later and, unbeknownst to you, on the eve of this holiday. Each of you have come across this small town, and are making your way towards the Antler and Thistle tavern (Map Point 4) . @rustytengo @Jace Stormkirk @Cool Girl @DragonRage @Cronos5010 @Megagun

PROLOGUE: THE RIGHTS OF MEN Barsadian Year 740, 4th of Ovis Once every three years, Lorelle becomes one of the most crowded and active cities in Sathor. Just over a full day's trip downriver by boat from the Imperial Capital, the sparkling riverside fortress has for generations served as one of the main points of defense on the way to Queensgate. But its more well-known -- and far more controversial -- feature that has led to today's thick multitudes and the high spirits of its citizenry centers around the arena at the far end of town, and the Games that had been held there for as long as anyone can remember. Nobles from all across Sathor congregate, bringing the gladiators that have trained for years, some of them champions of previous Games, in a bid for who has the finest fighters. Nearly everyone of some name has a stake in these Games, and it's high stakes, high rewards. "We are honored to have a dispatch of the Queen's Knights themselves here to oversee the safety of the Games." With tensions with Gossmys mounting by the day, the rebels' next attack could take place anywhere. Lorelle at this time of year, with its high population density, many of whom are of the noble class, is a prime target. "Her Majesty is very generous to think of Lorelle." The young nobleman guides them through the halls of the arena's residential areas, where only those of highest status are permitted to stay, most others coming to see the Games forced to find their own lodgings elsewhere throughout the city. The dispatch that has been sent to guard Lorelle from any hint of foreign invasion consists of both new recruits as well as some who have been among the ranks for some time. Many of the finest among the Knights, of course, as well as their Commander, have stayed behind at Queensgate, maintaining the defenses and strong security there. Though the Knights' primary task in Lorelle is one of guard duty that calls for professionalism and alertness, there may well be those who see this is as an opportunity for sightseeing, as the city and its stone bridges over clear water are quite beautiful, even with all the people. Heeled boots clicking against the polished marble, the nobleman rounds another corner to a long hallway, lacquered doors lining both sides. "These will be your quarters for your stay," he says, turning to face them with a slight bow, gesturing to them with a modest sweep of an arm. "I hope they have been prepared to your liking. The door to the town is that way, though I humbly suggest that you not get separated too much if you wish to see the city. I have no doubt in your ability to defend yourselves, but with the Games always come the petty thieves who try to take advantage of the crowds, and other such troublemakers . . . Once again, my name is Leofric, of House Fenway. Please let me know if I might provide any further assistance."

Everyone awakens in a white room, already standing and with no groggy sense, like that one would have when awaking naturally, the room looks like some kind of a meeting chamber, marble flooring tastefully compliments an alabaster wood paneling along the walls. A set of simple plastic tables, mass produced and recognizable as such are assembled in the middle of the room, around them, in direct contrast, red velvet and ebony thrones circle them. The lights appear to be simple spheres embedded in the ceiling, while a few pens sit on the table, capped and unused. Strangely, despite the mundane nature of the room, it clearly is nothing but. There are no doors, no windows, there are not even outlets on the walls. The room is also unnaturally clean, like it has never been used before. A frazzled doctor sits in one of the thrones, putting together several papers and leafing through them quickly. The woman is muttering to herself, she does not seem angry, but appears to be stressed, like the type of stress one has as they prepare for an irritating discussion, or struggle to meet a rapidly approaching deadline. The woman is wearing a thick leather trenchcoat, colored the same shade of white as the floors and walls, a Timeclock card is clipped to one of her pockets on the breast of her coat. "You all wait a moment while I try to clear this mess up. It will take a little bit of time, we're all getting a bit rushed here." She says, kindly, but urgently. She then chuckles lightly, before going about organizing the papers. "Feel free to talk with your new Colleagues a bit." she continues after a moment.

Escort Missions. Of course. And not even the fun kind. No, you poor saps are stuck escorting three freighters hauling cold cases of strawberries (and other assorted Terran fruits), because the elven population of the Coalition has apparently decided they’re a fad. To top it all off, they didn’t even give you a decent unit to work with. No, you guys are in the Void Rangers, that experimental unit you’ve all been hearing about. A grand gesture of peace and cooperation between the Federation, Coalition, and Council they call it, a step toward reconciliation after two thousand years of war. Most of you are at least half convinced it’s actually your previous commanding officers trying to get you shot in the back. The rest are the poor suckers and Councilors who volunteered for this disaster in the making. On the positive side, you actually have capital ship support for this mission; no piggybacking off the freighters’ FTL tunneling drives. Captain La Lune and her dreadnought Crescent have a good if unremarkable reputation. And legendary Coalition veteran Master Sergeant Sigmus Vulcair has signed up too (for some inscrutable reason), so you know your marines are in good hands. If only the rest of the crew was as noteworthy. Or at least as trustworthy. But who the heck is going to bother accosting a convoy full of fruit? At least you know the shakedown run is probably not going to end with a quick trip to the necromancers in the infirmary. [OOC: You guys are loaded into your vehicles and/or the capital ship Crescent, escorting a group of freighters supposedly packed with fruit through a rough area of space. FTL tunneling drives are effectively teleportation, but they don’t have unlimited range and using them too often in sequence can cause problems. Take the time to decide where each of your characters are, and get to know each other a bit better. Maybe scout the area?]

You all awaken on the cold hard ground, spotting each other, you find that yourself and 3 others are also in this strange place. To either side of you, a massive Canyon Wall stretches up high above, numerous small footholds dot it, dangerous to those not fully in tune with such a trial. Looking up, you see the sky is full of silver clouds and golden sunlight streaming down. It is very cloudy, but also very bright, resulting in an odd atmosphere. In the middle of the Canyon, you see a massive gap separating either side of it, barely wide enough to jump, in the case of those with supernatural jumping ability. It seems to go down far enough that you would have a hard time getting either down to the bottom, or up, if you found yourself down there. Behind you, the gap splitting the middle canyon path in two widens, effectively preventing you from going further back. Ahead of you, the two paths made by the split canyon stretch forward. Scattered around above you are occasional platforms, they seem to float impossibly, and are made of what appears to be thin metal with dull green plastic inserts. They simply sit there, immune to the forces of gravity. They are roughly 8 Meters wide, and maybe 5 meters long. They sit in places roughly close to the cliff walls, though still high above what any normal person could reach. Before arriving to this place, you seem to remember barely being offered the chance for greatness, or was it a plea for help? It was not in words, and barely discernible, but you seem to have agreed, all things considered.

“Captain. We have several requests for unidentified signals requesting permission to beam onto your vessel.” The robotic voice echoed throughout the Warden’s quarters, snapping him out of his careful work. A drop of cold sweat crossed his forehead, before sliding down onto his nose. The sweat sat there for a few antagonizing long seconds, before falling onto the table where his full attention had been turned. Moving his hand ever so slightly, the Warden held his breath as he pressed his thumb and index finger together… A loud buzz rocked throughout the chambers, as the Warden threw the metal pair of tweezers he had been holding onto the table. The red nose of the cartoon character he had been operating on flashed at his failure, and what little self-control he had held him back from flipping the table over. Turning around, the Warden shuffled away from his game table and walked to the wall of monitors that were flashing. The program that the Warden had used for “inducting” new inmates was actually an old program used by starship captains and the like. Despite having the funds and the resources to upgrade to a more appropriate model, the Warden had kept the ship A.I. despite its habit of using the incorrect lingo. Pulling a crumb cover keyboard towards him, the Warden quickly input the passcode for the teleporters in, reading it out loud for no particular reason. “TheWardenisaGoodDancer. Yeah, you bet I am.” Pausing for a moment, the Warden pulled up a window on one of the several screens. A check list of various functions that were turned on and off inside of the prison were listen, and to his relief, the check box for the intercoms was off. Changing the password was such a chore, and after the last time he had announced his code to the inmates, he had to feed half of them to that horrible blob thing in order to get the egg off of his face. One of the screens displayed a message, letting the Warden know that the newest batch of inmates had arrived and were being decontaminated, which was not a quick or painless process. Clicking on a link on a different monitor, the Warden pulled up the criminal records of the inmates, skimming them and chuckling. “Naughty. Naughty. Partially Innocent. Naughty. My, this sure is an interesting batch. Computer, make sure all of the collars are fully operational. I’d hate for any of our guests to feel left out.” The computer beeped for a second, before displaying a message that confirmed his hopes. Cracking his knuckles, the Warden smiled as typed another command into the computer. “Now then, let’s give them a fighting chance.” Several security robots moved past a camera, each holding a box. “I can’t have them running around unarmed. Now can I?” The robots split off, placing the boxes in front of the various decontamination chambers, before returning to their posts. Grabbing a head set from his cluttered desk, the Warden put it on and spoke into the ancient microphone. “Welcome to Black Moon my lovelies! I hope you enjoy your stay!” (Well, here we are. Start posting if you want I guess. Feel free to start posting, since all the technical stuff should be in the OOC thread. The chambers are all in relatively close proximity to each other, and should give ample chances for characters to get introduced, but feel free to take your time.)

In the late afternoon on sunny day roughly around the same time you all arrived on the southern front of central Midchilda at facility known as Long Arch. Long Arch is a large complex built along the coast with roads running around it and under it. The main building of it is a bluish color and you would guess would be about three to four floors tall and has a lot of windows. You where asked to meet here by your higher ups in the TSAB at the request of Admiral Chrono Harlaown. Upon getting out of the vehicle that brought you there you all are greeted by a mousy looking young woman with short brown hair wearing the standard brown TSAB uniform. She introduces herself as Maria Connors and leads you into the building to a conference room where you are asked to take a seat. She then explains that the Admiral will be there shortly to explain the reason to why you have been asked to be there. The conference room is on the second floor in a long room with a large window on the in it letting a lot of natural light into the room. It has a large table in the middle of it with five chairs on the sides and one at the front of it which you would guess is for the Admiral. (All you need to do is explain your arrival and your characters initial thoughts on things) (here’s a picture of a birds eye view of Long Arch given to me by Hiss) http://i.imgur.com/vO1A3vz.jpg

The early dawn hours of the next day... outside of Eden "I will give this damn lecture one last time before we enter beyond the gates!" Jace shouted over the din of questions and conversation that had arrisen from the last bout of briefing a moment ago, helmet in the crux of his arm as he paced back and forth before the assembled them as they all waited infront of the massive stone entry way to Eden's garden, and by extension the giant gates within them. The entire membership of Chimera 17 stopped their gossiping at the sight of his growing rage, all of them shutting their mouths and standing at attention, save for the Blast Trooper, Arietta, whom was reported as missing late last night and presumed dead... not like any resources could be spared to go hunt down a woman who obviously should've never been on this mission anyway though. "Try to pay attention this time! This," He gestured to a young woman who stood beside Commander Stone nearby, her helmet off and an Exo Pack on her back. "Is Gen Stone, yes, I know what you're thinking, she is Commander Stone's younger sister, get over it. Her survival will be imperative to this mission's success; she's the brightest mind in the fields of Disease control, Genetics, and overall Biological Science that Esperanza has, her IQ is so high, she'd be able to run circles around any of you intellectually. We have no idea what form the Cure may come in, it may be an actual manufactured product waiting for us to just swoop in, recover, and mass produce, or it may be a plant which needs to have certain components of it's biology extracted..." He looked at her as went on, his gaze rather cold, harsh even... "It may be nothing more than a blue print, a vague set of instructions or clues... or at the very worst..." he paused, seeming to ponder how to phrase the next part without giving away too much of anything... "It won't exist at all." Quiet finished bluntly for him, not giving a damn whether or not any of the others were intelligent enough to glean any truth out of that nugget. "And we'll have all wasted our lives and the mission will be an absolute failure; everyone in Esperanza dies..." He put extra emphasis on the Everyone and Dies part especially, glaring at Jace from behind his shades and shawl. "Of course, that's just worse case scenario... why wouldn't the individuals who built all this just have a spare cure to their weaponized virus lying around? Seems logical to me..." "The sarcasm is duelly noted, Mr. Quiet..." Jace snarled. "Now kindly shut that hole in your face, or I'll do you a favor and sew it up." "Whatever you say...sir." Even thicker sarcasm in that answer, though Jace ignored it. "Now, Dr. Stone herself will brief you on what we're looking for beyond the gates, and how we will go about...finding it." He took a step back to stand beside Commander Stone and the young woman took a step up, giving an acknowledging glance to each soldier assembled before her. "Thank you for the introduction, Major Bane," she began, glancing at him over her shoulder. "But technically I'm not a Doctor. Moving on," she returned her sights on the group. "To sit here and tell all of you that we know exactly what we're looking for would be a bull faced lie. The virus has adapted and side stepped every single thing we've thought to throw at it; the adaptability factor is beyond anything the human race has ever seen... something suggesting that it's the product of explicit and intelligent design. Not too hard to imagine, given the structure behind us all. What we've managed to determine from failed trial after trial though, is that it has to have some type of shut off device, an kill code, if you will, a certain sequence of genetic keys which when introduced will nullify and or kill the Virus and stop it in it's tracks-" "That's all great and everything," Quiet interjected. "but why don't you actually tell them how they're supposed to find this "cure" you think exists?" "I've got the needle and thread ready to go, Quiet." Bane said, getting very, very tired of this shit... "My offer earlier still stands." There was no further discussion. Gen carried on where she'd been cut off. "To answer your question, it's actually a very good one, the key lies in the computer systems. How many Hackers are here with us?" even as she asked she was looking right at Sarah though...

((Official Theme of this RP:)) "We're here, sir." A lone pilot said as he eased back on the controls. All around him the cockpit instruments were blazing to life as he initiated the landing procedures, shutting off the engines and reducing their speed enough to not burn up upon touch down. Sitting beside him was a man of high Military rank, his shoulders covered with silver epillets and a host of medals adorning his broad chest. He stood from his seat, gazing at the ruins visible in the distance, shrouded partially in the dense vegetation of the sprawling forest. The setting sun cast a bright glare against the glass, giving the ancient site a beautifully lit silhouette in the evening light. "Excellent," he said simply, glancing over his shoulder at a young man sitting behind him. "Major Bane... deploy." "Yes sir," was all the other man said, standing up from his own seat and moving to the tiny door at the back of the cockpit. It slid open smoothly the moment he approached, revealing a short corridor leading to the Personnel bay. The high ranking man spoke up again before he could exit however. "And do not come back to Esperanza without the objective." "Understood sir," he said, barely even acknowledging the older man. "I just pray that there'll be an Esperanza to go back to once we get it." Then before the official could comment on that, he removed himself from the room, his monochromatic boots echoing with every step off the metallic floors of the Flyer. *** In the Personnel Bay ​The personnel bay of this troop transport Flyer was relatively large compared to most. Made to accommodate fifty or sixty heavily armed soldiers, barely a fraction of that capacity were situated in the room. The benches built into the ship's wall were small and somewhat stiff, made of steel and synthetic leather... though, them being that way was meant to further discipline soldiers by preventing them from falling asleep so easily while en-route to a target. Bright flood lights came on in the space as a deep shuddering filled the air, followed by stillness. The ten Esperanza Ranger Core operatives sitting inside the bay had just felt the sensation of the craft's landing. The flood lights decreased in intensity a little after several seconds; they too were meant to prevent Sleeping soldiers during the trip, hard to sleep when it's so bright, afterall. The stillness and silence in the air was broken by the smooth click of the two doors at the end of the bay sliding open, revealing an individual wearing a Black and White Exo-suit, the mark of a Special Forces Agent... strange, now that any of the soldiers actually thought about it. Why go with ERC operatives for such a crucial mission as this one? They were several cuts below the Esperanza Special Forces, that much had been proven time and time again over the years. So Why_not assemble the entire team from ESF agents? why just send the one? "Prepare for Immediate Deployment, Soldiers..." The Agent said, his voice morphed into an authoritative sounding command by his Helmet's Commlink system as it buzzed into the ear of each of the assembled individuals. at the back of the large space an outline of outside light appeared. A thick grinding sound echoed out as a pair of large rectangular doors opened and the Boarding ramp extended out, making contact with the grass covered clearing with a THUMP. the ESF drew a strange looking rifle from it's place on his suit's belt, loading a single clip into the bottom and cocking the weapon. "And if you have any last minute questions that weren't covered in your briefing," he continued as he walked past all of them and stopped just short of the Docking ramp. "That's tough then; you should've asked back when you had the chance to still back out." with that he marched off of the Aircraft into the evening light, leaving the group to make any last minute preparations before joining him outside.