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[IronyOwl]

((Sal'savira's mark is on the back of her left hand. I did mention it, but in her bio.))


Sal'savira cocked her head slightly at the ant's pawings, inspecting it right back. Such a curious creature, and a curious speech.

She then turned her stare to the green-skinned one. Also curious.

"I am Sal'savira of no place in particular," she said, trying to match the style of the orc's introduction without having a noteworthy affiliation. She kept staring at the orc, examining her tusk ornaments, her hair, her bracers, and generally anything that looked interesting about her.

[Dwarmin]

Shella's oath bearing tusk rings bear small, spiraling runes in several primitive languages, even a few of your own-the left set seems to imply anger, rage, hatred and vengeance. The right is no less stoic-but it seems to represent promises, sorrow, love of family, and protection.

Her hair seems a wild weave of thick black, but soft and well kept-obviously polished by years living among the elements. You spot the nub of an ornate bone brooch that no doubt doubles as a comb-tucked away, almost hidden, above her left scalp.

Her bracers remind you of the giant Ant that just inspected you. You guess she's faced something of that kind before, and obviously not friendly. The outward facing spines seem to have been sharpened enough to act as weapons in a pinch.

Aside from her obvious Orcishness, you can't help but notice her armor doesn't match in any fashion-it just fits together, a patchwork of chain, leather and plate, along with chitine and furs-distinctive designs from at least a dozen different cultures you can identify, as well as a few animals you don't.

"Well met, Sal'savira."

Shella studied her new rival in turn.

For her own examination, she was interested in the Malkavians natural weapons-if Sal'savira was used to employing them in battle...even among Orc warriors, using their fangs and tusks to battle was considered beneath a thinking race, though not by any means unpopular in a crunch.

[IronyOwl]

Sal'savira's beak looks fairly unpleasant to be pecked with, but it's probably too unwieldy to properly use as a thrusting weapon. The serrated edges probably give it a nasty bite as well.

The claws on her hands are fairly large and decently sharp, with more than a passing resemblance to the claws on a bird of prey. The claws on her feet take this to a new level- though they're less curved, they're nearly large enough to pass for daggers.

Despite all this, you doubt she's accustomed to using them in battle, or at least you doubt she has been recently. Her beak lacks refinements or scars, suggesting she's neither intentionally maintaining it as a weapon nor using it in rough conditions. Her claws are likewise, with her fingers tapering to points too fine to survive a confrontation and her toes appearing well-maintained but not properly sharpened.

[Caellath]

Eisen stood still and in silence, watching the rest of the group he would be sent with, his face obscured by the large hood that covered most of this head. His efficient longbow was slung on his back, firmly held by a strap on the back of his coat. Quivers rested on both sides of his thighs, mostly due to his ambidexterity, flexibility and the need to always have an arrow at hand if one was trusting agility to fight with a bow in close-quarters.

Overall, he seemed like one of the rangers of his group. A warrior clad in green, a shadow in the forests. But he was far from one of them, in fact. Lacking the appropriate combat training and too young, Eisen was only a young man trying to find new experiences outside of the Bastion, finally having a reunion with nature, an encounter he had longed for during the entire time he had been cloistered inside that fortress of stone and steel.

He didn't complain about nor move while facing the giant ant creature's strange antics. In fact, Krikt remembered him of the outside world, as some of his companions with wilder features did. They were part of nature, as he was.

"No questions." he said curtly, to save the man the effort of looking over him whilst he had no questionst to be answered.

[Digital Hellhound]

Ecidona couldn't resist smirking. She could already tell many of her companions were oh-so-serious, probably obsessed with words like 'duty' or 'honor'. Hopefully they'd cheer up soon enough. She echoed the foxfolk's statement - 'No questions!' - and took a couple of wandering steps, looking for anyone more welcoming. All of her companions looked like they could handle themselves in a fight, bearing arms and armor. No magic-users, though - she thanked the gods for that.

She ended up on the grim-looking foxfolk and shrugged. Ecidona stepped to his side and blinked in surprise - the hood had been covering his face, but she could see he was much younger than she'd thought. Barely a boy... 'Greetings,' she said, 'I'm Ecidona. What do you think we'll find? Ever been outside the Bastion?'

[Caellath]

She ended up on the grim-looking foxfolk and shrugged. Ecidona stepped to his side and blinked in surprise - the hood had been covering his face, but she could see he was much younger than she'd thought. Barely a boy... 'Greetings,' she said, 'I'm Ecidona. What do you think we'll find? Ever been outside the Bastion?'

"Oh, Greetings." Eisen answered. "I'm Eisen Narthale, pleased to meet you. And as for the matter of what we'll find...Most likely, trouble and dangers." he said nonchalantly. "We'll probably be sent on missions which may end with our deaths."

He turned his head and looked at a wall, as if looking through it and the scenery outside. "I lived a good part of my life outside the Bastion, and I miss the outside world."

[Ochita]

Gurrath stands against the wall, apparently enjoying a little bit of reading, going over a small tattered with age book. Sometimes he would lower the book a bit, and scan across the room, but otherwise he mostly kept to himself.

[Digital Hellhound]

'Oh, well,' Ecidona said. The poor boy was so serious for his age. 'I've only been out there once. But I'm happy to go now - I'm sure you lot can protect me from any danger we might stumble upon. I've heard such amazing things about the world out there.'

She looked around the room.

'So, what do you think of our companions? They seem to be a bit... solemn, I suppose. There's pain there they cannot let go of, I think.'

[Dwarmin]

He turned his head and looked at a wall, as if looking through it and the scenery outside. "I lived a good part of my life outside the Bastion, and I miss the outside world."

Shella interjected.

"...I've only been here a few days, and I already miss the outside world...this place is like a prison.

As much for keeping us in, as others out I would guess." She clenched her fists, imagining punching through the wall and being free again.

'Oh, well,' Ecidona said. The poor boy was so serious for his age. 'I've only been out there once. But I'm happy to go now - I'm sure you lot can protect me from any danger we might stumble upon. I've heard such amazing things about the world out there.'

She looked around the room.

'So, what do you think of our companions? They seem to be a bit... solemn, I suppose. There's pain there they cannot let go of, I think.'

She chuckled at that.

"...The Scholar-Warlod Angral of Clan Tharlma said 'Undergoing Agony and Hardship are the experiences that bring one closest to Divinity, for one proves to himself, undeniably, that he is alive-to forgive ones driving motivation-be it fear, rage, sorrow, or love-akin to removing your arm with a blunt blade, making you half a warrior'.

My people would say that Pain makes you stronger-it forces you to adapt, pushes you beyond your limits, reaffirms your faith in the oaths you've taken.

So, why would you want to let go of your pain?"

[Caellath]

'So, what do you think of our companions? They seem to be a bit... solemn, I suppose. There's pain there they cannot let go of, I think.'

"Oh, they seem fine people. Maybe just a matter of opening up...Or maybe they are acting solemnly due to the fact this is a serious event." he says, pulling back his hood and flashing a bright, boyish smile at her while revealing his face fully. Slightly sharper canines are the only feral part in sight, the hood hiding the top of his head with ease.

Eisen could have been cut off from the world he loved, but it didn't mean he forgot how to smile. "Of course, some are in pain...But at least part of our thirst for a bit of freedom will be quenched, even if with false liberty."

[Digital Hellhound]

Ecidona smiled back at Eisen. 'Well, I suppose you could see it that way, but personally, I think it ought to be more of a celebration. Maybe we'll get to that later.'

The Orc's interjection wasn't wholly unwelcome, she was interested in speaking with one of her species.

'Sounds like a fascinating person. I would very much like to learn more of this warlord... Angral, was it? You know, there's a shameful lack of Orc philosophy in the archives. They would appreciate a collection of your people's thoughts, I'm sure,' she said. 'It is an interesting point of view. Fairly common, of course. But surely you agree there is danger in clinging to pain too much? One might become obsessed with it, cultivate and nurture it rather than heal it, and thus poison themselves... it is better to move on, in the end.

[Dwarmin]

"I do not doubt you would enjoy it." She said, smiling lightly. "Angral was also a Dictator-a monster, an enthusiastic torturer and a madorc, some say. He killed thousands of innocents in his lifetime, until a group of Human and Elves took his head while he slept for the bounty on him.

But, he was very well spoken-dictating his words and thoughts to a trusted advisor-Angral removed his Advisors eyes so he could not learn to write, forcing him to reciting the words on memory alone. To his credit, he passed it on more or less perfectly before he died.

And that is, coincidentally, why there is little Orc literature here-it is not that we do not know how to write and read-but those few Orcs who believe themselves worthy enough to have something to say guard their thoughts and feelings jealously, not making written records for fear they will be stolen by others. Lesser Orcs are conditioned to not let slip their thoughts and emotions so blatantly, lest they be seen as challenging the status-quo via the Clan Chief.

We are a possessive people, you see-our strength, and our weakness."

'It is an interesting point of view. Fairly common, of course. But surely you agree there is danger in clinging to pain too much? One might become obsessed with it, cultivate and nurture it rather than heal it, and thus poison themselves... it is better to move on, in the end.

"Surely

Talgrant of Clan Energa said "One must be wary of becoming so attached to his swordarm, that he forgets to sheath it when he returns to his home-an unminded blade can harm and frighten those which he loves, and he harms himself so doing."

...I would agree with that-and, that is why I have vowed not to return to my home until I find the source of my Pain and end it. Or it ends me, in all fairness. I have only an empty place to return to. What I love-is out there, waiting for me..."

[Tiruin]

As the conversation flows, a young man approaches the Seneschal and whispers into his ear as he bends down to listen. Soon after, he calls you for attention as you all move outside the keep and into a flat, grassy courtyard. Trees of towering heights are scattered along the sidelines, decorating the ramparts with their greenery. Looking past the Seneschal, you can see other buildings near the outer portion of the bailey, including the wooden structures which make up the village nearby - conjoined for easier travel and defense, separated only by the spiderweb pattern of roads, passageways and alleys.

"I fear it was through my own fault, or the lack of information presented that no questions were raised. Surely you will have more, or perhaps even less. Nevertheless, let's begin."

You hear the sounds of footsteps come from behind, and for those who choose to look, see two men and two women in their surcoats along with common garb, carrying the chest you've seen earlier and setting it down for all to see before opening it, with the Seneschal moving to extract its contents.

"Use them for communication." he says, holding up several amulets and pendants, seemingly worthless trinkets hanging by their corresponding chains with a small transparent gemstone in the middle. "These allow any person to see through, and as if, they have the eyes and ears of the others who hold their copies and acting as easily hidden communication devices for our people far and beyond, though capable of recording and 'memorizing' events--with mechanisms separate from our biological sensitivity. They channel the energy of your distinct elements inside them, so do not worry about it being used for other means than your own, they cannot be subverted for other causes. These ones have been enchanted to allow you all to speak with one another as if they were right next to you, through sheer force of will alone as well as certain members of the Bastion if need be.

"However, a word of caution. It should not be struck with sudden force. Its composure is akin to your own, and thus, follows the rules of the world. Because if you do," he held his index finger aloft and flicked one of the amulets. What followed was a simultaneous glow of amber from the gemstones of the rest along with a sudden, brilliant flash of light. "This will occur. Your 'element' will be flashed to others connected to the amulet. Sensory interference is also to be aware of. While none else as far as the enchantment is concerned may use these but you, they are not foolproof.

"Be warned."

Previous: In which an introduction begins. | Current: In which beginnings start, and endings end. | Next: In which the game is afoot!

~Chapter I~
-Turn 0: The Beginning-

The four soldiers act as an escort as you proceed to the Eastern Gatehouse, separating towards their posts, only to return minutes later with the usual travel commodities: rations, horses for mounts, equipment for tents and other amenities, including five flasks of golden liquid.

"I had to convince our Artificier for the last one. Potions of Skill, as the people call it. The ability to correct your mark in the blink of an eye, they say, yet for only a moment. But enough of my rambling. We have a bandit problem.

"Now while we'd let the local enforcers deal with lawless factions, we were given direct notice from the people for aid. What we face is a successful group of ill-mannered louts; the rowdy and over-zealous types who think they can take on the world by themselves. Now I say 'successful' meaning they have managed to get their hands on one of the artifacts under study of the Capital's own repository, one of the most heavily guarded areas in the land. We've only received message a day ago, and still do not know how this had occurred. Fortunately, that is our reason of being called in: no signifying coat of arms or symbols of allegiance to any one group or nation. If any innocents are met en route, you don't have to worry about being found out.

"Unfortunately, local scouts have only pinpointed a general region where the bandits may have set camp in preparation for the Long Dark. Hill and forested terrain. Things can get pretty nasty if you're not under warding barriers at that time, especially with an artifact of intangible power.


"Do you have any last words before we send you off?"

Spoiler: Sal'savira; IronyOwl (click to show/hide)

Gender: Female
Age: 19
Class: Seeker
Race: Malkaven

Skills:
Perserverance
Agile

Physical Description:
- Appearance: Sal'sivira looks fairly normal for a Malkaven- a crow-woman with large, blank white eyes that reflect light, a long, serrated beak, great wings coming off her back, oversized, taloned hands, and even more oversized, larger-taloned feet.

- Clothing: She wears a ragged-looking but well-made black tunic with a belt and thin leather strap running diagonally around it for hanging things from. She also carries a large, wide-brimmed hat and pair of tinted goggles, both for when it's too sunny out.

Inventory:

Black Spear/ This spear is a standard Malkaven weapon- ragged and ancient looking, but sturdy and well-kept nonetheless.

Silverscale Armor/ This shiny silver armor appears to be composed of a series of pointy oval or rounded diamond scales or plates, and is indeed made from the hide of a Silverscale, a type of fish larger than a horse. Its scales are protective and very durable, which causes the Malkaven to overlook their preference for ragged black and use it fairly routinely.

Vae's Knucklebones/ Made from the literal knuckles of the first two fingers of the right hand of a novice elven necromancer, these four strangely shaped "dice" have the power to tell the future and discern the secrets of the dead. The results are usually cryptic and of limited accuracy and power, owing to both Sal'sivira's lack of divination skill and Vae's lack of power, but can sometimes be useful nonetheless.

Elemental Amulet/ A communication device widely used by the more unconventional militant forces of the land, this amulet is naught but a simple trinket attached to a chain with an opalescent gemstone in it's middle. It transmits whichever sound or sight the wearer holds to others who wear the same, similarly to a vivid vision in the mind's eye of the scene in question. It is highly attuned to the magical forces.

Potion of Skill/ A concoction of unknown origins, this bottle contains a liquid that shines like the day, however non-luminescent and tasting like honey. It is said to amplify the imbiber's kinesthetic senses, giving him or her the ability to make pinpoint strikes with any weapon chosen. Sadly, its concentrated form is volatile and lethal when drunk in large quantities, thus leading to the product you see now - a small drought contained within a flask.

Spoiler: Shella Gavuatu; Dwarmin (click to show/hide)

Gender: Female
Age: 23
Class: Hunter
Race: Orc

Skills:
Deadeye
Vindication

Physical Description:
- Appearance: Shella is a 5.3 Orc female with a well muscled build, a tight stomach and an impressive body. She possesses tough and smooth dark green skin, and long, coal black fine hair that descends almost to her waist in a swaying sheaf. Her eyes are a calming shade of the ocean, deep blue-large and emotive-topped by a pair of arcing black eyebrows. She has two short tusks jutting from her mouth on side, each adorned with a stylized ring of obsidian-her teeth resemble fangs, though not large enough to be threatening normally. Her legs and hips are well toned and strong, giving her a very animalistic look. The mark of ecid is on her left wrist.

- Clothing: Shella is wearing a full body undersuit of light, non reflective black chainmail and thick leather mixed and matched, leaving little to the imagination-heavy, ironshod leather boots adorn her feet, combined with chainmail studded into leather pants, and mismatched plate pieces over both her knees. Half leather and chain protect her chest and arms, and and while her left hand is Ecid marked, she's wearing a fingerless green cloth glove on her right hand. She's wearing two bracers made of some sort of spiked chitine material. Around her waist is a heavy belt with at least 6 large storage slots and many smaller compartments She's wearing a heavy body length cloak and fancy three cornered hat of the same color as her skin.

Inventory:

Gavuatan Orcish Slurbow/ A crossbow like weapon Shella favors, with a distinctive wooden hood over the top of the stock. There is a gap between this shroud and the stock that allows the string to travel unimpeded, firing either traditional bolts for common enemies, or rounded lead shot against foes like the undead. She can reload it with a single hand, using her thumb to cock it back, but requires both to fire accurately.

Clan Armor/ Handcrafted from pieces she has taken over the years from worthy enemies, Shellas armor is sturdy and light-giving her full range of movement and protecting her from errant blows. she feels more comfortable in the armor, than out.

Obsidian Oath Rings/ An Orcish Tusk-mark that denotes one who has taken a vow of revenge-she's wearing two, which indicates two separate vows. They cannot be removed by any Earthly force until these tasks are completed, or is rendered invalid by fate-being magically bonded, as long as the target of these Vows remain alive, they will remain bonded. As such, Shella knows her sister-and the traitor-both still live.

Elemental Amulet/ A communication device widely used by the more unconventional militant forces of the land, this amulet is naught but a simple trinket attached to a chain with an opalescent gemstone in it's middle. It transmits whichever sound or sight the wearer holds to others who wear the same, similarly to a vivid vision in the mind's eye of the scene in question. It is highly attuned to the magical forces.

Potion of Skill/ A concoction of unknown origins, this bottle contains a liquid that shines like the day, however non-luminescent and tasting like honey. It is said to amplify the imbiber's kinesthetic senses, giving him or her the ability to make pinpoint strikes with any weapon chosen. Sadly, its concentrated form is volatile and lethal when drunk in large quantities, thus leading to the product you see now - a small drought contained within a flask.

Spoiler: Eisen Narthale; Caellath (click to show/hide)

Gender: Male
Age: 16
Class: Attunement Knight
Race: Foxfolk


Skills:
Perseverance
Riding Aptitude

Physical Description:
- Appearance: Eisen has eyes of a very bright blue and a beige-colored hair, his hair usually messy, with the occasional uncut locks falling around and framing a young, curious face. Any fur on his person also follows the same beige color pattern. His Ecid's mark is located at the back of his head, under the line of hair growth.

- Clothing: He wears a green cloth coat with a very large hood usually seen in different positions, to hide his face more or less depending on the occasion. The cloth itself is fairly resilient and reinforced against weather, the coat sporting what seems like downy or white fur near the collar area, a golden trim and long sleeves, allowing the wearer to completely hide his hands whenever desired - his forearms and most of his hands hidden by a fingerless leather protection. His pants are also colored green, with part of their length tucked into sturdy and carefully tied brown leather boots which sport metal reinforcements and a discreet pin attachment for stability and maintaing a grip at surfaces in cases of emergency. His long-sleeved shirt is green as well and is mostly covered by the chestpiece of a well-crafted brown leather armor with hidden steel reinforcements which fits perfectly over the body of the owner.


Inventory:
Yonsun-Nobi/ A Composite longbow standing taller than Eisen; it is an elegant and well-made piece of ranged weaponry, made with the utmost care by Eisen himself under the guidance of his parents; it ended up as part of his experiments on sounds to call upon animals.

Hardened Leather-and-Steel Armor/ Made from good-quality leather and with a backing of sheets of steel, the armor has a few pieces protecting key parts of his body, although some parts are simply hidden under a layer of clothing.

Flute/ Made from polished stone, steel and the finest wood Eisen could find in the woods, his flute is a faithful companion, always available for him to play and subject to his experiments on sounds capable of attracting the animals that reminded him so much of home.

Elemental Amulet/ A communication device widely used by the more unconventional militant forces of the land, this amulet is naught but a simple trinket attached to a chain with an opalescent gemstone in it's middle. It transmits whichever sound or sight the wearer holds to others who wear the same, similarly to a vivid vision in the mind's eye of the scene in question. It is highly attuned to the magical forces.

Potion of Skill/ A concoction of unknown origins, this bottle contains a liquid that shines like the day, however non-luminescent and tasting like honey. It is said to amplify the imbiber's kinesthetic senses, giving him or her the ability to make pinpoint strikes with any weapon chosen. Sadly, its concentrated form is volatile and lethal when drunk in large quantities, thus leading to the product you see now - a small drought contained within a flask.

Spoiler: Ecidona sel-Mhrabann; DigitalHellhound (click to show/hide)

Gender: Female
Age: 26
Class: Silent Sister
Race: Wildfolk

Skills:
Nimble
Mental Composure

Physical Description:
- Appearance: Ecidona stands at around 150cm, with a slender, small build. Her skin is a dark brown with bark-like colourings and patterns, adorned with a variety of white markings and tattoos on her face and arms. Two curved horns arise from a wild mass of dark hair and tiny fangs peek out from her teeth - relatively few signs of her race on their standards. Her features are sharp and aquiline. Her Mark of Ecid is on her right palm.

- Clothing: Ecidona wears simple and sturdy clothes of leather and thick cloth, adorned with countless little baubles, cheap trinkets and amulets and symbols she thinks are protective or help focus her power, but possess little practical use. Many of them have been crafted by her personally and she carries a heavy carving knife to craft bone or wood with.


Inventory:
 
Heavy Knife

Sturdy Clothes

Amulets & Baubles/ A bunch of amulets and baubles in different shapes and forms, mostly sentimental collections of Ecidona's stay within the Bastion.

Elemental Amulet/ A communication device widely used by the more unconventional militant forces of the land, this amulet is naught but a simple trinket attached to a chain with an opalescent gemstone in it's middle. It transmits whichever sound or sight the wearer holds to others who wear the same, similarly to a vivid vision in the mind's eye of the scene in question. It is highly attuned to the magical forces.

Potion of Skill/ A concoction of unknown origins, this bottle contains a liquid that shines like the day, however non-luminescent and tasting like honey. It is said to amplify the imbiber's kinesthetic senses, giving him or her the ability to make pinpoint strikes with any weapon chosen. Sadly, its concentrated form is volatile and lethal when drunk in large quantities, thus leading to the product you see now - a small drought contained within a flask.

Spoiler: Gurrath Halsen; Ochita (click to show/hide)

Gender: Male
Age: 26
Class: Flowing spearman
Race: Human

Skills:
Quick Senses
Precision Striking


Physical Description: Gurren is 5'11", possessing a body frame that shows that he's been doing labor for some time, along with several scars, from previous encounters with various foes. He has greenish-brown eyes, along with unkempt messy dark brown hair. When he's in a town, socilising, he likes to wear slightly loose robes with an aquatic style to them, with shades of blue and dark green, along with a hood, in a style similar to a monks robe. When he's in armor or in the wilderness, he prefers to wear a set of tan leather clothing, mostly because its practical in the wilderness. His mark is on the back of his neck.

Inventory:

Twisting spear/ This weapon was the first weapon that Gurrath was given, that was made for him. It only appears to be twisting alongside the metal shaft, but that's only a trick of the craftsmanship. Its covered with small nicks and slight scratches, yet it is maintained well.

Chainmail/ This armor is what Gurrath uses in battle, as his style of fighting does require some agility.

Old book/ Given to him by an older mercenary in his old group. It details some basic spear techniques, along with a couple of minor cantrips of the water element. Gurrath keeps it because it helped with the turning point of his life.

Elemental Amulet/ A communication device widely used by the more unconventional militant forces of the land, this amulet is naught but a simple trinket attached to a chain with an opalescent gemstone in it's middle. It transmits whichever sound or sight the wearer holds to others who wear the same, similarly to a vivid vision in the mind's eye of the scene in question. It is highly attuned to the magical forces.

Potion of Skill/ A concoction of unknown origins, this bottle contains a liquid that shines like the day, however non-luminescent and tasting like honey. It is said to amplify the imbiber's kinesthetic senses, giving him or her the ability to make pinpoint strikes with any weapon chosen. Sadly, its concentrated form is volatile and lethal when drunk in large quantities, thus leading to the product you see now - a small drought contained within a flask.

[Caellath]

Eisen lowered his hood until it obscured his face once again, as it was usual for his people's soldiers and rangers to do. He put both arms behind his back in a gesture of attention, one of the hands grasping the tip of the bow, as if preparing for combat.
"None."

They would be sent to deal with bandits...He wondered how efficient and deadly they were.

[IronyOwl]

Sal'savira tilted her head. An interesting mission, but fairly straightforward on its face.

"No questions," she answered.