What's new
  • This section is for roleplays only.
    ALL interest checks/recruiting threads must go in the Recruit Here section.

    Please remember to credit artists when using works not your own.

Fantasy 𝙇𝙚𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙙 𝙤𝙛 𝙕𝙤𝙧𝙧𝙤 (closed)

Sub Genres
  1. Action
  2. Adventure
  3. Magical
  4. Slice of Life


✧"make it enough."✧
𝓛𝖊𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖉 𝖔𝖋 𝓩𝖔𝖗𝖗𝖔
The Legend of Zorro begins now . . .
Nation: Zorro:"The Melting Pot" Town: Gento:"Heart of Zorro"

The sky was a beautiful blue and the sun was shining bright. It was currently spring in Zorro and it showed. Crops were thriving, bards were singing, and women breezed by in light clothing. The many bakeries, taverns, bars, and diners emitted mouth watering aromas that filled the afternoon air with smells of baked goods, seasoned meat, freshly made soup, and liquor. Despite the fact the sun had only just risen, the stone pathways were crowded and the taverns and diners were packed. Why? Because it was Sunday, the day when new job requests were posted on the billboards around town. However there was a certain type of job slayers were scrambling for, House requests. Those requests, written in exquisite handwriting on glossy paper, always had handsome rewards. Always. And this week's batch was no exception. Within moments, all the House requests were gone, all but one. The Burgundy House request. Though it had the biggest reward of all the lining requests, it was the most dangerous. The few slayers who gave the sign more than a glance scoffed.
barren guild.png
On the back of the poster, read more detailed instructions:
"Meet your guide Kito Flaz'in Burgundy at the Ravenous Tavern.
She'll be in full attire and is to be stationed there for several days.
Basic supplies like rations, shelter, and healing potions will be provided.
Additional supplies is welcomed as well as personal equipment.
Be prepared to compromise and work as a team with other slayers."

"Twenty acres full of monsters? Be damned! The Burgundy House has gone mad. If they can't do it themselves, what makes them think anyone else will?"
Murmurs of agreement were heard in the crowd and soon, they laughed. Vector Burgundy was a fool. No matter the reward, no one would survive. Would they? In addition to having Kito Burgundy? "The Wolf Slayer" as a guide? Proof this was a dangerous request, a request that would rot on the board untaken. At least untaken from anybody sane. Soon, the crowds dispersed and the boards were raided, leaving few requests behind. Requests with lousy rewards, shady descriptions, and of course: The Burgundy House Request. . . .

the tavern.jpg

In the back of the Ravenous Tavern, sat a caramel-colored female with thick hair and flaming lenses. Dressed in burgundy attire and enchanted armor, she wore a stoic expression. Above her in all it's glory hung the Burgundy House request. It was apparent she was Kito Flaz'in Burgundy, the Wolf slayer - if all the expensive armor she wore didn't make it obvious. Unfortunately, she sat alone at a wooden table. It appeared, it'd stay that way. Everyone of faint recollection of her mission avoided all eye contact. Though the Tavern was packed and noisy with the sound of music and planning, it seemed near the back where Kito rested, it was eerily quiet. The only sounds were light huffs of irritation and the creak of Kito's armor. Despite the stoic expression the Slayer possessed, it was safe to say, she was a tad bit perturbed.
Last edited:


✧"make it enough."✧
Kito Flaz'in Burgundy, the Wolf slayer.
"The Barren Guild's princess."
"Barren be with me," muttered a battle-worn slayer.

The voice behind this prayer came from the deepest corner of the Ravenous tavern. Here sat the powerhouse of the Barren Guild, Kito. Though muffled, the illustrious nature of her tone still rung true. However at the moment, little was admirable about her. Today had been excruciatingly spontaneous. After rushing to extinguish a monstrous threat from within the slums of Gento's outskirts, Kito was summoned to the Barren guild where she was ordered to recruit slayers for a mission. Due to the rush, Kito reeked of sweat and blood that clung to her bodysuit and exposed skin. Time would've allowed Kito to gather herself if not for the importance of this adventure. Kito was well aware this was no regular expedition, but the fabled task to obliterate The Engulfing Forest. The start of it anyhow. As a result, Kito left little room for self-care as she tasked herself with familiarizing Gento with her mission. After paying a lump sum to angels that belonged to the Messenger Guild, Kito deemed the first part of her job complete. Now, the rest was up to Trinity's divine timing, and Imani's goodwill. Hopefully, the Gods would shift the eyes of experienced slayers to her expedition. If not, Kito was ordered to venture into the Enfulging Forest and eradicate as much as possible senselessly. A suicide mission. Such a crude and deadly alternative made it clear to Kito that something was brewing that only the higher-ups knew, and that scared her. Intensifying her desire to get this adventure going. The worries that raddled the seasoned slayer's brain began to show through her features. Her brows scrunched together, and her muscles became tense. Fortunately, an unexpected clank brought Kito's mind from the abyss, resulting in an immediate shift in body language. Her face relaxed but the rest of her body did not. Instead, her legs crossed while her arms folded together. With hope, Kito glanced around her surroundings once more, internally praying a companion would appear. However this time, Kito retained her stoic expression, albeit darting eyes betrayed her. After a short while, Kito became aware of her appearance and grimaced.

"If I knew I'd be waiting for an eon I would've showered."

✏ Short-sighted, any slayers already present at the Tavern have gone unnoticed.
✏ Grimy, from time left unspent towards self-care.
✏ Stoic, the result of years conditioned by the Zorro military.

Last edited:


Nina Simone Reaverwood

It was odd, traveling without her brother. Even odder that he wanted her to go without him. She understood why. Things in Alto had calmed down quite a bit and he wanted to make sure she didn't slack off. Something about unchallenged potential being wasted. She supposed he was right too. Her skills would dim if she stayed in a place that didn't give her any challenge. So he sent her off to Gento. The quests here were supposed to be difficult and plentiful. At first, Nina thought coming to Gento would be a lonely, awful experience. She had never been this far away from her twin before, and she was nervous. But it wasn't nearly as bad as she thought it'd be. She was having fun here. The city was beautiful and full of life. There were markets, guilds and good food. It was a fun place to explore while she waited for the day new quests would come in.

Today, Nina woke up with a good feeling. She would have to hurry if she wanted to get the best quest. Nina quickly got her gear on and rushed out of the inn she was staying at. Staff strapped on her back. She spotted the crowd rushing towards a tavern and followed them, stopping at a board with a bunch quests posted. She was about to approach the board until she heard some people talking about a specific quest. Clearing out twenty acres of monsters? That.. definitely sounded like a challenge. Nearly impossible. She turned her gaze to the quest flyer and approached it, skimming then words it.

Oh- There was a familiar name. Kito was going to be accompanying whoever decided to come. She had briefly met her back home a few years ago. Lovely lady, very impressive skills. She would be honored to fight alongside her, and the mission payed well. Nina was in.

Nina grabbed the flyer and headed to the tavern listed on it. Which took a bit of asking around, but she eventually found her way to the place. Nina didn't know why they would need to clear out part of the Forest. Nina never really thought about why she was doing quests. She just sort of did them. Marcus was the one who did all the thinking. She stepped into the tavern, flyer folded neatly in her hand and glanced around. It only took her a few moments to find Kito, she tended to stand out. Nina strolled toward the table in the back of the tavern and flashed her old acquaintance a smile.

"Hello again." She chirped, a friendly smile on her face. "I'm here for this." She unfolded the flyer and held it up. She hadn't seen Kito in years, she wondered how much the other woman had improved. She looked much more stoic than when they last met. More battle-hardened. Nina would look forward to fighting beside her.
Last edited:


The Abysster
The sun hung low in the sky, an array of watery blues and purples decorating the horizon, slowly started to wake the world. Birds sang their tunes, chirping and chittering as they bounced across the ground or from branch to branch in the twisting trees. Morning dew shook off the blades of grass as Rowan stalked through tightly knit trees. He was hunched down, creeping with his bow in hand, an arrow drawn to the string, fingers ready to snap into action. He paused for a moment, lifting the recurve bow, drawing and releasing the arrow in a heartbeats time. A small deer fell to the ground, oblivious to its own death.

By mid day, Rowan had skinned and sectioned off the meat and organs of the deer. He sold the fresh meat to one of the butchers in Gento, dropping is newly earned coin into a leather bag, retying the coin purse to his belt before pushing through the front door. The street was swarming with Slayers and civilians alike. Rowan brushed a hand through his dirt brown hair and sighed. Better to let the commotion die down before he looked at the job postings. There was no rush. He pulled the black hood of his cloak over his head and disappeared into the throng of people.

Rowan had expected his errands to take a while longer than they actually did. The old man usually running the general goods shop he frequented was out sick, saving Rowan about an hour or two of talking, more so listening, to the old man babble. All in good company. With completed errands, the older man made his way to the job postings, the main commotion had calmed down some since his venture. He stood in front of the nearly barren billboard stroking the stubble on his chin.

One in particular caught his interest, the House of Burgundy 's flashy request. Rowan glanced over the details and scoffed. 20 acres of monsters! The House must've gone mad. Still he made note to head over to the Ravenous Tavern to meet the famous Kito Burgundy, a name he's heard cycling around since arriving in Zorro a few years ago. The reward money was too good to pass up despite the dangers. "Ain't nothin' but a win win," he murmured as he began to pick his way through town.

Rowan arrived to the Tavern, not even bothering to look around first for the woman he was to meet. His feet took him straight to the bar. With a large mug in hand he scanned the room, spotting his target within seconds. Her body language and attire said all he needed to know. He took a long drink from the mug, emptying the alcoholic contents and grabbing a new one before wondering over. The woman who beat him there during his walk over received a small contempt raised brow from Rowan at a side glance. He took a seat across from the dirty warrior. "Looks like ya' need a drink. Or three." Rowan's voice baritone and thick like honey with accent. He took a gulp from the mug. "I hear ya' got a job." Rowan flashed her a toothy grin.


A little Valkyrie of a healer.
Azyra Constanza "The Cerulean Lancer"

As the dawn of a new day slowly crept it's orange glow over the deep azure sky, for but a moment all was still. Few were awake at the time, though, it wasn't uncommon for one in the town to be awake, and while it was often difficult to hear, passing by a certain house, one could hear the faint footfalls of a set of heavy boots, followed by the sound of the air being sliced, and at times, impact upon a wooden beam. Investigating beyond the walls separating the cottage's courtyard from the road, they would find a woman clad in azure, with long, emerald green hair, striking a simple training dummy she had hewn herself with a wooden polearm, swinging at the dummy as if her life depended on it, impacting a cloth section with the head of the spear, dulling the sound from those around her.

Often, her training would take hours, as if Azyra was not on the hunt, she would train in the morning for as long as her body would let her, it wasn't uncommon for her, though, to collapse from trying to continue her routine while nursing injuries. As the sun slowly rose, turning a deep blue night sky to it's brighter tone. Taking a nearby cloth, Azyra wiped her brow of the sweat from the training, and proceeded inside her home.

It was a three room cottage, the same home her Mother and Father had bought when they had settled in Gento, furnished comfortably with all the basics a small family could ever need, though, it was a lonely home to her, no matter how much time had passed, the pain of that night lingered. Having moved past it, Azyra could still live in her family home, though it never felt the same as it used to. Taking up a pan, which had been filled with water, and the familiar scent of Edelwiess, floating amongst the bucket, a sea sponge, which was clasped by Azyra, squeezed, and brought to her skin. Looking over her body, multiple scars lingered from her battles, some, faded into near obscurity from time, whereas others still looked to be rather recent. Though, looking to her abdomen, a deep black mark still rest, slowly having crept it's way across her skin, growing ever larger as time goes on, a curse that has altered her path in life, both for the better, and, for worse.

Redressing, Azyra took especially the time to don her armour, it had seen her through hell and back. Weathering a multitude of fights and protecting the Cerulean Lancer without fail. Though marred and scratched, everything of it still worked like new, if not a little broken in to how Azyra liked it. Taking up her shield, she adjusted it's position on her left hip, where a strap hung loose, designed simply to carry her shield while keeping her arms free, and finally, Azyra took up what most synonymized her with, her helmet. A cerulean helmet with a gold trim, fitted to her for when she had turned eighteen, it was uncommon for her to not wear the damned helmet everywhere. Taking up her spear, Azyra had set out to first, the edge of Gento, by the Monster Forest.

Standing at the edge of the forest, Azyra approached two piles of stones along the road, kneeling in front of them, Azyra clasped her hands together, closing her eyes and bowing her head, a small prayer was what most guessed from a distance, though when close enough, it sounded more like a one-sided conversation to the piles. Remaining for a few moments, before turning towards the forest once more, mournful eyes turned fierce, as only a few words were shared to the wind, "And don't you think I've given up on my revenge..." Staying for another moment she turned back, letting a set of wings form from her back, a gift from Myera, allowing Azyra to fly amongst the clouds, giving her a chance to see the world from a different viewpoint.

Spending most her day doing quick jobs, Azyra found herself at the Ravenous Tavern late, the sun had begun to set once more, and, most of the good jobs were taken. Just her luck. Looking at the board, Azyra reviewed many of the jobs left, some were simple enough yet paid poorly, others, were the jobs she would never touch, though one intrigued Azyra, a request from house Burgundy. Reading through it, at first Azyra thought it was an insane ask, clearing part of the Monster Forest? Yet that reward would earn Azyra well over a month off on completion. Furthermore, the escort was the famed Kito, Lady Burgundy of all people. While Azyra hadn't seen her in action, she had heard of her exploits. Gazing her emerald eyes through the tavern, Kito wasn't a hard find, as Azyra put the idea together, look for someone clad in red. Though joining Kito were two others, one, a woman with a deep bronze complexion, judging from her attire, she was not from these parts, maybe somewhere else in Zorro, the other, a man in leather armour, Azyra knew him as a slayer that often was talked at by Fredric, the old man at the general store, Azyra had seen him a few times, but never really had much to talk to him about. Both were asking about the job, which prompted Azyra to follow suit, keeping her faint smile,

"I was also here for the task at hand. If you would have me, of course."


ₘₐᵢdₑₙ ₒf ₚᵢᵣₐₜₑₛ
LOCATION: The Ravenous Tavern, Gento, Zorro

MOOD: Slightly Drunk, Curious, Annoyed

Heavenchi Heavenchi , x_Tasia_X x_Tasia_X , Impius Impius , & Mineczka Mineczka
osran shackerly

Osran had been in the Ravenous Tavern since... well, he couldn't remember. Yesterday, maybe? He didn't think he slept in the tavern last night, but he also didn't remember leaving. Or arriving this morning.

He'd been in Gento for about a day now, keeping a low profile. It had been four years since he had set foot in the city; he had made sure to avoid it like the plague ever since [...]. He stuck to the lower tiers, with the rest of the slayers. He was only here for a job, after all. The outer borders weren't paying what they used to. Otherwise, he never would have returned.

He took a sip of his fifth seventh eighth ??? pint of the afternoon, trying to drown out all the voices in the tavern. He was tired, his head pounded under the influence of ale, and if he heard one more story of a monster hunt, he might hurl. Unfortunately, he knew his hopes were pointless. It was a Sunday, in a tavern, in a slayer populated city.

He hadn't found a job to his liking that morning... not that he left the tavern to take a look at any billboards. He didn't have to. He... listened better than he read nowadays, anyway. As tavern patrons came and went throughout the day, he hadn't heard of a single job to his liking. There was always something that stopped him from accepting. He was picky; he had to be. Not many slayers were interested in what he had become in the last five years; missing eye, weakened arm, and a less than optimistic attitude. He had no interest in working with newbie slayers with hearts full of adventure or for less coin than he could drink in a night.

Needless to say, he was tired of listening by the time evening rolled around; he craved silence and to be in his own head.

Once again, it was a Sunday, in a tavern, in a slayer populated city. He'd have better luck finding silence in a marketplace at noon.

Hunched over in his seat in annoyance, he slid his cat-like eye over to a pair of slayers conversing with each other at the end of the bar. To anyone sitting nearby, they were speaking in hushed whispers, hardly bothering anyone. To Osran’s enhanced sense of sound, it was like an annoying tickle in his ear. It was driving him mad to ignore them any longer.

“You gonna take the Burgundy job?”
“…Does it look like I have a death wish? Ain’t no way twenty acres can get cleared, even with the Wolf Slayer in charge.”
"Shh, don't let her hear you say that, she's right over there-"
"All I'm say'n is five thousand gold pieces ain't worth my life, nor yours."

Well, didn't that just pique his interest. Twenty acres of the Monster Forest? Whoever posted said request had to be insane.

He smirked into his drink. Any job that sounded like it was a death wish was automatically worth looking into.

Besides, he was incredibly low on coin. Unfortunately, drinking your life away costed money.

Osran kept an expensive hobby.

The two slayers had also mentioned a Wolf Slayer. The Wolf Slayer. Osran had heard of her, of course. He had never officially met her, but her name was known to him. Well, her title, at least. He couldn't remember her name at the moment.

Before he could wrack his pounding head for a memory, a graying man strode to the bar just beside him, pushing his way around the crowd. As Osran observed quietly, the man grabbed a pint, threw it back in a single sweep, and swiftly grabbed another before heading towards the back of the tavern. Osran scoffed to himself, only mildly impressed by the man’s ability to drink.

Osran pegged him to be a slayer, as if the bow on his back hadn't made it obvious. Come on, at this time of the evening, everyone in the tavern was a slayer. Still, this seemed like a seasoned monster hunter; someone who had been around for a while and seen enough of the world. Interested enough, Osran’s eye followed the man across the crowded bar— easy enough to follow by sound alone, the guy had a significant limp— and watched as he found a table in the far corner. Two young women were already there; one standing to a side of the table holding a folded slip of paper, the other one sitting with her back to the wall.

Osran was more curious about the second; deep, burgundy garments and glasses that caught the orange glint of the fire light.

The man's back was turned to him, but Osran caught a few words from across the room.

"I hear... a job."

Now, with the amount of interest the back table was garnering and the expensive look to the slayer in burgundy, Osran guessed he had found his Wolf Slayer.

With a sigh, he rose, reaching for his remaining pint of ale. He downed what was left in a single gulp before pushing it back towards the bartender. The man gave him an incredulous look, but a glare from Osran's remaining eye earned him his ninth drink of the evening. Honestly, who's counting anymore? It wasn't as if he had consequence to worry about.

Slamming one of his last coins on the bar, he began to make his way towards the table in the far corner, easily slipping around patrons without spilling a drop of drink. By the time he made it, another woman had joined the others, her blue armor covered in dents and blemishes. He positioned himself against the wall next to the table, crossing one leg over the other.

“Hope I'm not late to this party.” Osran gestured to the four of them nonchalantly before taking another sip of his drink.
code by valen t.


✧"make it enough."✧
Kito Flaz'in Burgundy, the Wolf slayer.
"The Barren Guild's princess."

Kito stared at the familiar arrival for a moment then two. Before a response could emerge, another slayer made their presence known. This one was a male with prominent muscles and a charismatic demeanor. Despite the stronger presence of the unnamed individual, etiquette demanded first come, first serve. Kito's muscles began to jolt Kito up into a bow before a soothing voice came from her side. The holy glow and blue armor the woman possessed made it clear to Kito that she was in the presence of an angel. A frown appeared on Kito's face as she analyzed the three slayers present. So help her, if one more-

“Hope I'm not late to this party.”

With a groan, Kito shook her head to gain clarity.
"The Gods answer prayers in mysterious ways," Kito muttered under her breath before lifting herself from her seat to curtsey. Even if these slayers weren't of noble blood, she was grateful for their time. With a huff and a rub of her temples, Kito conjured the speech her father had instructed her to give at the start of the expedition. Sadly, Kito's short-term memory left much to be desired. "Whatever, I'll just wing it."

"I'm eternally grateful that you wish to risk your lives on the behalf of our great nation. Due to the pitiful amount of slayers present, I'll be doubling the reward to compensate you properly. In the case any of you die within Barren care, your portion of the reward will be sent to the chosen person or estate within your wills," Kito announced boldly, clasping her hands behind her hips. See, Kito thought to herself, she didn't need a script. She got her message across just fine. Or at least she hoped so.

"Please sit, we have much to discuss," Kito encouraged before returning to her seat. Clasping armored hands on top of the table, Kito closed her eyes and began to rummage through her thoughts. First, she'd need to inquire about their capabilities and if they had a will present. Kito was required to send those to the Barren Halls for safekeeping. Afterward, she'd have to - no she could do that now. With a low hum, Kito swiftly retrieved several flyers and bags from the floor. Written on glossy paper, the following statement was present;

"Dear slayer, if you are reading this you have chosen the Burgundy House Request. As a result, Kito will be giving you each an enchanted satchel. These sacks were created by the finest alchemists of Zorro and can hold a hundred pounds. The magic embued into the sack allows one not to feel the weight of their belongings. Use these to hold any potions, extra weaponry, rations, and memorabilia. Please do not let the size of the satchels fool you, within is a nearly endless void. Fill these sacks like your life depends on it. You have two hours. May the Gods allow you to choose wisely."

Kito tossed each slayer a sack and flyer with enhanced strength. A minor test of reflex and durability.

"Please read through that and return within the next couple of hours with a will. We can start up our discussion and inquiries then," Kito instructed before jumping up and scurrying up the tavern stairs to her rented room. Despite her nonchalant nature and bold introduction, Kito was petrified. It had been several years since she led, years since the lives of others were thrown into her care.

"Barren be with me."

✏ Awkard, a woman of an abrupt nature doesn't do well with introductions.
✏ Wills can be created at any prominent tavern or inn. Simply request a form.
✏ The satchels given are the length of someone's forearm.​
Last edited:


Nina Simone Reaverwood
"Blood Enchantress"


Nina didn't seem to be affected by the awkward silence that came from Kito as she stared at Nina without saying anything for a moment or two. Maybe Kito didn't recognize her and was trying to figure out why she was greeting her with familiarity? That's embarrassing. Nina kept on a friendly smile nonetheless. Social interaction made her quite nervous at times. Of course, Nina never showed it. Nervousness could be seen as a sign of weakness. So she usually opted to put on a smile when she felt that way.

Nina sent a glance towards a much taller man who approached, gave her a look, and then sat down in front of Kito. He spoke to Kito with an accented drawl and a friendly tone. Perhaps the rowdy type? Loud people are easy to talk to. Nina heard another person approach. Nina glanced behind her and spotted a woman dressed in blue armor coming towards them. She was quite easy to spot, it would be harder to ignore her. Nina took note of the shield and spear she had, curiosity gleaming in her eyes as she glanced at them. She flashed the other woman a smile before her attention was caught by another person joining the table and another witty greeting. She didn't take much time to observe him, as she was yet again distracted by Kito's announcement.

Nina didn't really react to the will talk. She didn't have hers on hand at the moment. But she's heard this many times before. Too bad she left it at the inn, she figured she wouldn't be needing it. Since she was trying to avoid life threatening jobs for her brother's sake. But this job had piqued her curiosity too much for her to decline it. Either way, she was more interested in the doubling of the reward. And that the money would go wherever her will decided, if she died. Alto could use that money as charity. For repairs or defenses, since monster attacks are common there. That's kind of all she had written in the will. She would write her brother in her will, but he's told her not to multiple times. Well- He wasn't here right now, was he? And it was her will. There was a pretty likely chance that she could die and she didn't want to leave her brother with nothing. Not after everything he's done for her. She decided she'd make some quick changes to what she already had written down.

Nina almost got lost in thought there. She was pulled back to reality by Kito's invitation to sit. Nina silently obliged, sitting down and folding her hands in her lap. She watched Kito quickly retrieve something and watched her pick up some flyers and packs off the ground, tossing them to her and the other slayers present. Hm.. What were those for? She supposed the flyers would tell her. Nina reacted quickly and caught them with one hand. Fae reflexes were pretty handy. Especially when Nina was so easy to distract. Nina listened to Kito's parting words and nodded along with what she was saying. Okay, easy enough, pack some stuff and edit her will a bit. She had more than enough time for that. Nina stood up, gave a polite nod and a smile to the other slayers, and left the tavern to pack, skimming the flyer as she walked. Okay– so she was obviously going to need her staff and armor. Consider those packed, since she wore them already. She should also bring her dagger, in case they ran out of health potions, or her blood was needed for something. Maybe some extra potions of her own, and a few poisons she could put on her staff.

After arriving at the inn, Nina edited her will first, which took less than ten minutes. She started packing up her equipment. A dagger, extra health potions, some basic poisons she bought from a market earlier, a staff similar to her main one, but this one was one sided, some extra pieces of armor in case she needed to replace the one she wore, and some incense for when she would pray. Then she set off in search of the tavern again. Which didn't take as long as she thought it would, because she found herself standing at the door, hesitant to go inside. Not because the quest scared her, just that working without her brother in a group of strangers would be a little nerve-wracking. But she had a feeling that she needed to do this. Nina was choosing to believe this feeling was Ada encouraging her to go forward. So she did, and walked into the tavern. A smile on her face and her will in hand.


The Abysster
code by valen t.
Rowan O'Daly
Two others joined the small table almost as soon as Rowan finished speaking. He was fairly surprised that there were this many willing to do such a job. 'Must've not got much to live for, hm,' he thought to himself as he peered over the rim of his mug once more. The second female to join he had seen around town occasionally. He only knew her by the dead give away of her snazzy blue armor. Never before had he interacted with the woman and Fredric had nothing but nice things to say about his new comrade. Rowan never really had to guess who Fredric meant by the "pretty lass in blue", the old shop keep seeming to have an innocent crush. The other man to join them had never been seen by Rowan before. He didn't even notice him at the bar only moments prior despite having nearly brushed against the stranger when he got his drinks. He had an interesting look about himself, nonchalantly leaning on the wall. As for the other woman, she seemed like a friendly girl. To Rowan, it didn't seem like she would be the Slayer type. Of course that meant nothing in this day and age anymore. Being left with Kito, the famous Wolf Slayer, he pinned for the typical warrior type. Of course he was silently judging and assuming away behind his mug. The group would defiantly stick out like a sore thumb, each person clearly having come from different walks of life. He had no doubts this would be an interesting time.

Lost in his observations about the other Slayers who he was to work with and the small introduction given, the sign of movement jerked his attention back into real time, the enchanted satchel headed straight for him. Before his brain had time to register what was actually happening, he shot out an arm and socked the satchel away with a tightly balled up fist. It didn't go too far as it had plenty of flexibility and slumped to the floor next to Rowan. He stared at it for a moment, the gears slowly spinning in his mind before he leaned over and picked it up. A useful item for sure, if it truly did hold as much as they wanted... This would be tested out later. He pushed himself up from the table, his mug empty on the table. With a glance around the table he bid his temporary farewells. "Ladies," his eyes darted to the only other man in the group. "Sir," Rowan gave a curt nod and shoulderd a strap of the bag as he limped away, slapping a few coins on the bar before he left. He wasn't allowed to build up a tab anymore, not after the festival last year.

There wasn't much for the man to do in the couple of free hours he had. He slowly made his way home, lost in a fantasy of the things he could do with the reward money. Better gear, a nicer home, furnishings, maybe even a dog or a horse. A dog would be nice. His hands were stuck in his pockets, head tilted slightly up as he lazily limped down the cobblestone walkway. He turned down a narrow alley way, making his way away from the main hub-bub of the streets. He was headed toward the housing bordering the slums, the shops gave way to housing. He kept going until he reached a small wooden house nestled between two larger homes. To be brutally honest, his home was an eyesore for the area. It only still stood due to a drunken rage Rowan wrecked upon the neighbors about taking all he had. Not that it really mattered to him, he couldn't care less. The goal had been to make them feel bad, and it worked. So there stood his shack.

He pushed his way through the creaky door and dropped the knapsack onto a rounded table. The home was essentially a single room. The living, kitchen and dining area all blending together. A small loft could be accessed by a wooden ladder above the living room area (which consisted of a fireplace in the wall, a large wooden chest, two wooden chairs that looked as if they would snap any day, and a small table homing a dead plant), his bed the only thing up there. He sat at the kitchen table and stared at the bag and flyer he had been given. He didn't pay any mind to the words professionally printed on the laminated paper. Hell, the flyer probably cost more than his house. He got up and poured himself another drink, showing little interest in slowing his intake down despite work coming up. Rowan used his free hand to grab the bag, shaking it up and down as if it would weigh differently by doing so.

He set his mug down and opened the bag, peering inside. Seemed normal enough. He stuck an arm down into it, eyebrows rising as his arm continued down until his shoulder. He pulled his arm back out and peered at it. No harm done. A smile crept across his face and his flipped the bag over his head, arms going in first, wiggling it down completely over head and shoulders some. He giggled, inside the bag was pitch black and he could freedom of motion still. He hopped around his small house, a torso with legs and a bag for a head, lamely stomping around. His knee smacked into the table leg, almost sending him to the floor with a muffled howl.

Rowan bent over and shuffled the bag back off himself and began shoving things he would need on the trip. The wooden chest in the living space held most of the things he needed. Extra set of clothes and armor, a few bundles of arrows, bow string and other repair items, the last item he pulled from the chest was a heavy quilted blanket. It was black with the same red hawk and sun as his cloaks stitched into the middle. He refolded it so that it took up less space and shoved it into the enchanted bag. It would be nice to have his own blanket for once instead of using the itchy hotel blankets or the rough blanket he generally carried for work due to its light weight properties. Now it didn't matter, apparently. He checked the weight of the bag after the quilt disappeared within. Sure enough, the Burgundy House weren't playing games.

The rest of the items he tossed into the bag were simple, rations of food, simple first aid, an archers axe, cheap health potions, a couple bottles of alcohol for the go, and last but not least, he shoved is bow in. With his bag packed within an hour, he had time to burn. Rowan spent it diving into his personal liquor bottle and taking a nap. He arrived back at the tavern with his new favorite item, the enchanted knapsack. He didn't even bother with the Will. In all honesty, he had completely forgotten about the request of bringing one. Not that he had anyone to leave anything to. Figuring a successful powerhouse of a family would require something like this to help take liability off themselves he pulled a napkin from the bar and sloppily jotted down his request.

A Will
Death = do whatever. Burn it, give it to a cat
Rowan O'Daly

He found the rendezvous and seated himself, bag sitting on the floor next to him, napkin in hand.
Last edited:


ₘₐᵢdₑₙ ₒf ₚᵢᵣₐₜₑₛ
LOCATION: The Ravenous Tavern, Gento, Zorro

MOOD: Thoughtful, Pensive, Nolstalgic, Sorrowful

Heavenchi Heavenchi , x_Tasia_X x_Tasia_X , Impius Impius , & Mineczka Mineczka
osran shackerly
Well, that's curious. Double the compensation? Highly irregular for a guild request. But, then again, guild requests were usually in high demand.

Osran drained his tankard silently. Oh well, their loss. More money for him.

More death for him too, if he was lucky.

Upon the Wolf Slayer's request, he pushed himself off the wall, easily untangling his lanky legs. He snatched a chair from a neighboring table before sitting down upon it. Pushing the empty tankard to the side, stance wide, arms crossed against his bare chest. He took a moment to gaze at those around him, making sure to avoid eye contact when he could manage it.

The three slayers around him couldn't be any more different if they tried.

The young woman seemed out of her element; overeager and awkward. She had a naivety about her that might put her place at the table in question; yet, he garnered that she had seen her fair share of darkness. The scars on her arms told a story that needed no words.

The man could be her opposite; he had a proud air to him, as if he needed to prove himself to the world. If his drinking capability was any indication, he seemed to be a man of the people. Osran could see the twinkle of humor in his eyes and the corner of his mouth.

The woman in the blue armor- she was deeper, dark behind her eyes, as if something was gnawing deep inside her. Yet, she carried herself with poise and an understanding of the world. She reminded Osran of himself, actually. There was much more than met the eye with this angel.
Of course, there was him. The broken shell of a once-righteous man, burdened by sorrow and drowning in drink. He could never quite ever get out of his head, no matter how hard he tried. If you were looking for an optimist, please look elsewhere.

When he had finished observing his fellow slayers, he turned his attention to the Wolf Slayer. She was shorter and younger than he thought she'd be. However, he could tell there was a fire that burned very bright within her. Bright enough for him to avoid her gaze when she looked towards him, lest she burn his one remaining eye. Barren blessed she be.

After her introduction, she took a moment to throw an ordinary-looking satchel at each slayer sitting at the table. The young woman caught hers with apparent ease. The man, not so much, as he clumsily punted the bag away from him. The corner of Osran’s mouth rose in humor as he held back a small chuckle.

Now, though inebriated, he still had complete use of his reflexes. Perhaps one of the blessings of a Touched, he had the ability to get drunk without losing his instincts. Well, most of his instincts.

His satchel tossed, Osran's eye followed it as it flew through the air. For a split second, it seemed like the bag would soar past him. At the last second, his right arm shot up and grabbed the satchel midair by the strap. The satchel caught and knocked into the back of the chair behind him. He looked down to avoid gaze, smiled gingerly, and swiftly pulled the bag into his lap.

Eh, not great, but not bad for nine pints. At least he hadn't punched it into the ground.

Curious, he opened the satchel, pulling out a slip of paper tucked away inside. His vision only swimming slightly, he quickly perused the letter, taking in its contents. Enchanted satchel, hundred-pound limit, gather supplies, two hours. All standard hunting party procedures. Once again, nothing new to catch his curiosity. However, his eye widened when he finally achieved the answer to his own question.

Kito! That was her name!
…Huh. Yeah, no, he never actually knew that.

He kept his eye on the flyer as the Wolf Slayer rose and bid them all goodbye, with the promise to return to them in a few hours.

She seemed on edge. It wasn't noticeable, but there was a hint of emotion in her voice, the stance of her shoulder, that gave her away. It was obvious to Osran that they weren’t the slayers she had been hoping for. Fair enough. Honestly, what a rag-tag team; himself included.

“Two hours, then." He muttered, half to himself, half to three slayers still at the table.

The young woman rose first, giving them all a sharp nod before heading into the crowd. The man stood right after her; he limped away after giving the remaining slayers a farewell.

Itching to depart as well, Osran pushed back his chair before standing and wrapping his own satchel around him. Avoiding the angel's gaze, he managed a small, polite bow, his arm tucked behind his back. Swiftly, he turned on his heel and headed back towards the bar. It was not for a drink this time, however.

He hadn’t considered a will in years, not since he’d been running with his old hunting party, the Pack. He couldn’t even remember where his most recent copy was, let alone the last time he’d seen it. He supposed it was time to start anew.

After receiving paper and a writing instrument from the bartender, he slipped through the crowd, out of the door, and into the fading light of the Zorro streets.


After walking some distance from the tavern, he found a small cluster of crates and barrels stacked together on the side of a merchant storehouse. He climbed up them with ease; reaching the top, he sat, resting his back against the warm, wooden wall of the building.

He was thoughtful for a moment before scribbling down his thought onto the crisp paper.

“I, Osran Shackerly, have very little in the way of worldly possessions.

Should I die in the field of battle, to foe or monster, my share of the commission shall be left to my younger sister, Mara. Any effects found on my person upon death shall be returned to her as well, save for few exceptions:"

His will laid out mentions to his former party members, bequeathing specific items to them. How odd, to be writing down names of those he hasn't spoken to or seen in almost five years. He wondered if they had forgiven him for abandoning them, leaving them behind for his quest of self-loathing and hatred.

He wondered if his sister hated him, like his father hated him. Like he hated himself.

He paused, hand in midair, hovering above the paper. As if an afterthought, Osran scribbled down another request:

“Should I happen to be in my father’s will, I leave all my inheritance to Mara. May she accept it as the apology I was never able to give her myself."

He bit his lip, frowning softly. There was one last thing he needed to say.

“If my body was not destroyed upon death, I would like to be buried with my mother and sisters.”

With that, he signed it with his ever-illegible signature.


As was his custom, Osran stashed his things before heading into the tavern the previous evening. It was a habit he picked up when traveling with the Pack; they had established several small "safe houses" in the cities they frequented to store their gear while purchasing supplies or picking up jobs. The Zorro "safe house" was nothing more than an old, wooden shed on the side of a house in the Lower District, not too far from where he had sat down to pen his will. When he arrived in the city, he had been curious to see if there was any evidence of his former comrades; it looked like it hadn't been touched in years.

He made quick work unlocking the locks and packing his small amount of supplies into his new satchel. Extra head wraps and bandages for the scar that disfigured the left side of his face. Grease from the armor that kept his left arm moving. A collection of daggers, which numbered ten, ignoring the ones he already had strapped to his person. The remaining gold he had to his name, which he would spend at the market picking up food and drink rations.

With a sigh, he picked up his twin side swords gingerly. Forged in the fires of Alto, brothers born of steel and bathed in blood. He strapped the right-handed blade to his back before looking at the left-handed one despondently. It had been years since he wielded them together. It had become too heavy for him to brandish efficiently since his arm was destroyed.

Into the satchel it went. For now.

He strapped his third weapon, his thin, left-handed katana, across his back in the sword's place. He had picked it up on his travels; it was lighter and faster, allowing him to fight as he once used to. Though, some days, it was hard to use a weapon with his left arm at all.

One last item remained, though Osran considered leaving it behind once and for all; a silver ring, adorned with flowers and an amethyst stone set in the center. He nearly did turn away and forget it, but snatched it and tossed it into his satchel at the last second. He'd toss it some other time.


After the two hours spent buying rations and wandering the streets of Zorro, Osran found his feet leading him back to the Ravenous Tavern. He had to be insane to consider taking on this job; it was very likely that with so few of them, most of them would not return.

Maybe that was exactly what he needed. To go and not come back. The consequence of the job of a monster slayer, that was all.

As he entered the tavern, he caught sight of the young woman and the man at the table they had agreed to meet at. With a deep breath, he strode towards them, taking a seat not too far away from the man, placing the small satchel on the table in front of him.
code by valen t.
Last edited:


A little Valkyrie of a healer.

Azyra Constanza "The Cerulean Lancer"

Following Azyra's remark of the job came a third man, from how he carried himself, he had been here for more than a few drinks too many, his remark brought several sets of eyes to him, including Azyra's emerald hues. She'd seen the man before, in the tavern here, drinking the barkeep out of house and home most nights. Placing her hand atop the edge of her shield, Azyra couldn't help but eye up the other slayers in this party, and gauge their abilities.

First, was the other woman, her appearance suggested that she seldom wore much in arnour, a foil to Azyra, whose armour was apparent, and was significantly heavier comparatively. From what Azyra could guess with her physique and armour, she preferred to avoid attacks and had more of a hit-and-run style of fighting, as mentioned, a foil to Azyra's skill at staying in the thick of it, blocking and deflecting attacks.

Then there was the hunter, his tanned leathers and previous knowledge suggested that to Azyra. It was most likely he preferred his bow over a sword, he likely would remain towards the backlines of the fight, preferring to turn the poor beast the team was battling into a walking pin-cushion with his arrows. Though, Azyra was certain the man had some sort of option for when said pin-cushion got a little too close for comfort.

The third man was a hard read, willowy and lacked a lot of what one would see in a fighter, furthering the point was the bandages over his left eye. Depth perception was a blessing in a fight, without it, even outside of a fight a human is hindered in their abilities. Otherwise, he would be like the other woman, likely hit-and-run tactics, likely preferring to keep away from the attacks, rather than just straight blocking them like Azyra would.

Finally, came Kito. Azyra knew much of the stories of her skill and ability with her sword. Her power remains unrivaled and Azyra knew it, the Cerulean Lancer and the Wolf Slayer together would make a fearsome duo if they managed to get along. Both were strong, but, different in their own right, Kito took more of an offensive stance in a fight, whereas Azyra's more on the defense first, preferring to whittle down her opposition to create that opening, it was an obvious tactic, but one that was quite difficult to deal with when done right, especially with her awakening forcing her opposition to the back foot quickly.

Quickly enough, her thought was broken by the sound of her new employer, first remarking the eternal gratitude of the others in joining a dangerous mission, which also doubled the pay since it was simply just the four of them, plus Kito. Sitting at the table, Azyra had leaned her spear to the wall nearby, no point holding it any further, following the seating of the slayers came several bags being tossed to each one, with a glossy paper on it, identifying the one tossed to her, Azyra's right hand deftly plucked the bag from the air. Reading the note, Azyra began planning her next few hours, what she was to bring, and more importantly, as Kito mentioned the Will, who would inherit her family home...

Walking back to her home once more, Azyra walked to her weapon rack, positioned by the door for ease of use, laying perfectly on it, were multiple polearms, Spears, Glaives, Halberds, Lances, and so many more. It was a borderline problem, had each not had their own use in Azyra's mind, wrapping her hand delicately over the shafts of each polearm, one-by-one each weapon was placed into the bag, followed by a spare set of clothing, oils and spare leather for her armour, and, of course, food. It was common for Azyra to ration her meals, never wasting anything if possible for her. Finally, came her personal pack, which she slowly lifted to her shoulder, it was able to hold so much without being in the way of her wings, nor in the way of a fight. Within, was what Azyra couldn't store in the other bag, including the many salves, bandages, and so on for the inevitability she was injured. Finally, came her will, taking up her quill, she wrote a simple will, should the unfortunate event of her death come,

"To whom it may concern. If I, Azyra Risette Constanza, am pronounced deceased, whether through monster, foe, or elements, my share of the commission shall be distributed to the many orphanages of Geto, along with my estate and worldly belongings, as to provide these youths, robbed of their families, a chance to gaze upon the skies with love and care. I humbly request my weapons to be donated to the many Guards, to protect the home I have cherished, and that my remains to be buried with my shield alongside my beloved parents."
Following those words, Azyra signed her name, a eloquent signature of hers, picked up from her mother's signature. Taking a breath, she glanced about her home once more, knowing it will be a small spell before she would see this place once more, if at all. Slowly rising from her table, Azyra took up her spear once more, and made for the tavern, regrouping with the rest of her new comrades. Which, she was the last to arrive, glancing at each of her fellows, a faint, gentle smile crept over her lips, something deep down told Azyra that this was going to be great. Sitting at the table, the woman in blue set her spear against the wall once more, and spoke,

"If I may, I feel as introductions are in order, I am Azyra Constanza, also known as the Cerulean Lancer. 'Tis a pleasure to meet you all." Leading with a strong foot forward was something she wanted to do, especially since, this mission would take a considerable time, might as well get comfortable with everyone now...


✧"make it enough."✧
Kito Flaz'in Burgundy, the Wolf slayer.
"The Barren Guild's princess."
Now seated in a leathered armchair placed in front of an oak desk, Kito stared blankly at an expensive scroll that laid on top. With a heavy exhale, Kito lifted a feather pen from an ink cup and began to write.

"As the daughter of the Burgundy house, I've been given direct access to a portion of my parent's wealth. If I die young I ask my parents to adopt. Find and nurture an orphan girl to take my place. Educate her on her potential as you did me. Give her the same priveledges you bestowed upon me and let her fly. Do so with my personal funds. 200,000 gold or whatever is left after my passing. I also ask my armor is given to the next uprising female berserker within the guild. My sword and lenses, I simply ask to be buried with. If I fall before my comrades and they continue to do what I cannot, continue to provide for them even after my mission, please. That is all, many thanks for allowing me to be your daughter and Zorro's sword."

Kito stared at her will for another moment after finishing and began to weep. Dying was never a fear of Kito's but what came after is what grasped Kito's heart. When would her will be read? By who? Would they manipulate it? How would her parents react? Would she die at an inconvenient time? Who would take her place? Would they be talented? Capable? So much would be out of Kito's control, she became overwhelmed and slid down to the cold floor. Now spread against the hard floor, Kito felt the brunt of her emotions and sobbed. Thick lenses fell from her face now blurring Kito's sight, making her susceptible to danger. How pitiful. The thought of being attacked now brought new emotions forward. Regret.


Kito jumped into a battle stance within moments of hearing the command, frightened and unable to see, Kito did an abrupt spiral kick to access her surroundings. It was only after the feeling of laughter welled within that she became aware the voice came from her God. Oh, how embarrassing. Had he been watching? With an exasperated sigh, Kito snatched her lenses from the ground and carried them with her towards the attached bathroom. Running herself a bath inside a porcelain tub, Kito jumped in with urgency. Hoping to drown her emotions quite literally, Kito completely submerging herself. Allowing the blood and tears to lift from her body. After twenty minutes or so of dunking and reemerging from the now lukewarm water, Kito drained the tub and showered. Now squeaky clean, Kito moisturized herself for the last time until the next time and tossed on her spare burgundy bodysuit. She had several of these on hand and a dozen more at home.

"What else is there to do?" Kito murmured as she accessed her mental to-do list. She wrote her will, her bag was already packed, and she was now fully dressed. With a shrug, Kito quickly added beads to her fro and moisturizer to her lips. Finishing touches. Now all that was left was to greet her new comrades. Anxiety flared within Kito's chest at the thought. Would they like her? Would they consider her capable? Only time would tell and that resolution absolved her stress. Checking her appearance once more, Kito headed out of her room and back down to the tavern. To her surprise, everyone was present. A small smile formed on Kito's face. They didn't bail. With a grin, Kito headed towards the group, satchel in hand.

"Let's take our party elsewhere, I'd like us to talk over a meal," Kito admitted.

"I've made a reservation at the Uprising Diner, it'll be a Burgundy treat," Kito explained as she beckoned the group towards the exit.

"Our carriage is waiting."

✏ Squeaky clean, a faint smell of roses lingers on Kito's skin.
✏ Puffy eyes are hidden behind thick lenses.
✏ A mix of nervousness and excitement lingers in Kito's heart.

:bishiesparklesr:S C E N E C H A N G E:bishiesparklesl:
Outside the tavern, a surprisingly plain but large jacobean-colored carriage awaited. Pulled by two brown stallions and a cloaked rider, it wasn't obvious this was a noble's belonging.

This rather large carriage possessed two doors, one on each side. Within, the true luxury of the Burgundy carriage showed. Similar to the satchels given to the slayers, the inside was

larger than the outside. Two burgundy lounge couches that seated three were placed facing each other in the middle of the carriage. Underneath, laid a black faux rug. Above the

seating hung a diamond chandelier that shook with the movement of the carriage. Near the back of the carriage, cubbies meant for the satchels alongside a nook for weaponry was

built-in for the slayer's convenience. In the front of the carriage near the rider, stood a larger cubby. Inside, dried meat and fruit along with bottled water for the trip remained

present. In front of the food cubby, two sitting pillows were placed in front, a pseudo-dining area. Lastly were the windows that were present on the inside but not the outside. This

meant one could see out but not in the carriage. Due to the large nature of the windows, there were only two present, one on each side of the carriage. The enchantment of the

carriage was blatant from within.

✏ In the OOC, decide who is seated with whom.
✏ Offical introductions begin now.
✏ After two rounds of posts, I'll change the scene again.​


The Abysster

Carriage Ride to Uprising Diner
code by valen t.
Rowan O'Daly

Rowan raised an eye brow at what Kito told the mix matched crew. A paid dinner at one of the highest end restaurants in Gento, Uprising Diner. Since his arrival to Zorro itself, he had never been able to afford such a luxury, let alone held a high enough status in any part of Zorro to even reserve a spot. This reservation must've been made months in advance... Or they were friendly with the owners? Was the Burgundy family the owners? Questions that skipped across his mind as he pushed himself to his feet. Rowan immediately began his hobbled walk toward the door, his stiffened leg swinging a little to the side so the archer could speed his way to the carriage outside. He gave no mind to the simple exterior look of the carriage waiting, opening the door and climbing in as if he himself owned it or had ordered the ride to be there. If it was one thing, his confidence seemed to not waiver.

Upon entry to the carriage, he paused a couple steps in and looked around, his mouth slightly gaped as he took the magic in. Couches, weapon racks, bag storage, cabinets, a massive grin stretched across his lips as he wondered around the edges of the carriage, inspecting everything with his hands behind his back at first. Curiosity took over quickly as he began opening and closing doors and drawers, inspecting the contents before moving on, dropping his enchanted knapsack into the holding cabinet. He had no worry about this being a trick to try and snag everyone's equipment with an enchanted cabinet and spellbound booze. Not... Not that it happened to Rowan, it was a friend, or cousin. Something like that. He finished his short tour of the one side of the carriage and went around the luxurious couches to the opposing side.

It was at that moment when he came across the stored foods that Rowan really came to life. When his shining orbs saw the meats, he reached in to grab a piece. After the first couple of chews he let out a groaning moan with a mouthful of meat. It didn't take long for him to begin shoving some dehydrated meats into pockets, shoving a piece into his mouth and chewing on it as his hands worked. Once he was satisfied with several pieces in each pocket, plus the three hanging from his mouth, chewing on them slowly, working the pieces farther into his mouth with his lips working strategically, repeating an "M" sound motion each time he pulled more jerky in.

He found his seat across the Kito on the couches, directly across from her in the middle of the opposite couch, chewing happily and looking up at the chandelier hanging above. "Nice stuff ya got here ya know." He didn't really seem to have the manners of someone who should be eating at the nicest restaurant in town, as he never paused his munching even as he spoke. They might be headed to dinner, but Rowan would be damned if he didn't take his chances and seize the free commodities. He seemed absent minded for a moment as his jaw muscles visibly worked with silent chewing before his eyes lit back up, leaning back in the couch and making himself, very much at home.

"Ah! Since we're all here, and we seem to share the same death wish, I figure we might as well get names, yea? Names Rowan. Rowan O'Daly. I probably got the best shot you ever seen with a bow, I tell you what. Talk 'bout killin' two birds one stone, I tell you three birds, one arrow." He put his hand on his chest over his calmly beating heart. "I done it, swear on my momma, may the gods care for her above." He brought his hand up, kissed his index and middle finger and raised them up to the ceiling, bowing his head. This lasted barley a second as he returned back to his relaxed posture, a jerky in his left hand, sitting slightly stretched in the couch middle, legs spread and leaned back in an unhealthy slouch, his right hand brushing slightly against Osran who was seated next to him on the couch. Rowan didn't seem to notice despite the slight touching.

"If ya'll ever have questions about myself or Nalia, feel free to ask. I do have a question myself, however. What is someone like yourself, doing out here, Slayin' it up?" Rowan had turned to look at Nina as he asked his question. He wasn't trying to judge, but the girl looked so innocent and young to the man exceeding everyone in the carriage in age. "And you," Rowan pointed over at Azyra, "are you not going to sit with us? I promise I won't bite... If you don't want me too." His last bit was accompanied with a well practiced wink, his overall expression eccentric and light hearted.


Nina Simone Reaverwood
"Blood Enchantress"

Nina was reading over the flyer as she waited
She had already read it many times before. She could probably recite it at this point. But she had nothing else to keep herself busy with, and these other slayers were mostly silent too. Oh well, hopefully they'll speak up more when they get more comfortable. Nina perked up her head when Kito left her room, noticing the small grin on Kito's face as she approached the other slayers. Kito seemed more eager than before. That was good! She was ready to tackle this new challenge with enthusiasm, hopefully Kito is too, and then the others could follow in suit.

Nina folded the flyer at the mention of food, putting it away in the sack she had strapped on her side. She didn't need a distraction anymore. Nina turned her focus to what Kito was saying. A reservation? At the Uprising Diner? She never heard of it but it sounded like an expensive restaurant. Only expensive restaurants have reservations. Nina didn't really like letting others pay for her meals, even if they are rich. But she also knew that she probably wasn't being given much of a choice. And she didn't want to annoy anyone by saying anything.


Nina wasn't expecting a carriage! She was kinda hoping she could walk around and observe the town a little more. Oh well. She didn't mind a carriage ride. She never rode a carriage before, she always preferred walking. For exercise. But she's read about carriage rides before, mostly in romantic tales. If it was as nice as the books made it out to be then this would be a fun, new experience. The man with the arrows and charismatic personality went into the carriage first. She should probably follow, instead of standing there awkwardly.

Nina was surprised when she stepped into the carriage, her lips pursed in interest. It was a lot… bigger than she thought it would be! Very pretty- and there was a shiny chandelier up there. Nina stared at it for a while. She likes shiny things. Eventually, Nina realized she had to sit down and the silly guy was moaning over food in the corner. It was distracting(and slightly disturbing). So she waited for Kito to sit down and plopped down beside her.

Nina listened when the goofy guy spoke again. He seemed to be the one who would take initiative when it came to socializing. She was getting the vibe that the others probably weren't as outgoing as him. Oh, Well- she could stop calling him goofy now that she knew his name. His name was Rowan and he was apparently– very good with his bow. He swears on his dead mother. Wait!-

"My Mother's dead too!" she exclaimed, almost blurted out. Though, if her mother was with Ada, she probably wasn't being taken care of. Almost immediately after that she realized that she just blurted out about her dead mother. In front of some strangers. She almost slapped her hand over her mouth. That was embarrassing, and highly inappropriate! Now she wanted to sink into the seat and never emerge.

"I mean– My name is Nina. Hello." She said with a little awkward wave and a slightly embarrassed smile, masking how internally mortified she was. Her eyes glancing at each person in the carriage. She was much better at slaying than socializing. Nina almost sighed, Markus Lee gets it. He could always tell how she was feeling, talking to her brother never felt awkward like this. Maybe he should've come with her..

Nina almost flinched when Rowan addressed her with a question. She was expecting more of an awkward silence, and for everyone to ignore her for the rest of the carriage ride. Or to get hit. As for the actual question he asked. She got this question a lot, she did look quite inexperienced, didn't she? And she appeared to be the youngest person here. Earlier in her slaying career, she probably would've been slightly offended. Maybe even assume the person asking thought she was weak or something. But, she's been doing this for almost a decade and has gotten the questions for almost as long. As time passed, it bothered her less and less. She knew those who ask were just curious. Curiosity was a good thing.

"Oh- I was advised to come here for questing, by my partner in slaying. He said the monsters back in Alto weren't challenging enough and my skills would grow dull if I stayed there." She explained, so here she was- slayin it up, as this Rowan would say. Her smile grew friendlier.
Last edited:


A little Valkyrie of a healer.

Azyra Constanza "The Cerulean Lancer"

Keeping her eyes on her companions, Azyra took a deep breath, she was watching them, though not maliciously, more in a inquisitive manner, she wanted to know more of her allies, what made them tick, their strengths, weaknesses, what can they cover and do, and what did she, or someone else need to cover. It wasn't uncommon of Azyra to do so, she was always capable of reading her allies and foes much to a scholar could read a book, that presence of mind made her much more of a utility over others of her ilk.

Yet, her thoughts were drawn away by the sound of her employer's voice, Kito had arranged a supper at... The Uprising Diner. A rather posh place, where the well-off would eat often, and where Azyra could never afford to even eat the scraps, let alone actually wine and dine there. Following the group, came the Carriage. Azyra was seldom a fan of carriages, they often were too cramped for her liking, it was like putting a human into a barrel in her mind. Though as she stepped into the Carriage with a small hint of hesitancy, Azrya was surprised at the size within, they weren't being packed in like fish in barrels, but the carriage had enough space for two couches, a weapons rack, and what appeared to be a food locker with dried meats and the like. Maybe she could get a little more acquainted with the idea of riding in a carriage.

Then the damned thing moved. Noticing the small sway of the chandelier with the movement of the carriage, followed by so much to take, Azyra took a quick seat on one of the pillows by the foods, dropping her body almost in an uncharacteristic show of clumsiness. Her stomach was in a knot, as her mind scrambled for a center of balance, everything was not adding up correct in her mind, she sensed the movement, but somehow felt like she was sitting still. Setting down her spear along the ground, Azyra took a few moments to regain herself, recalling the second reason she hated being in carriages, travel sickness.

Taking her time, Azyra listened to the words of her companions, the first, Rowan mentioning introductions and the like, and furthering it with his comment of his mother before she passed. Next came Nina, the woman who, out of everyone, looked the least like a slayer, whose words of her mother being dead were... Excited? It was odd to Azyra, as she watched Nina cover her mouth for a moment, it was apparent, Rowan still had lingering pain from his mother's passing, but Nina just exclaimed it like there was no problem in what she said. Drawing her back, though, was Rowan asking Azyra pointing at her even, asking for her to join them.

Under normal circumstances, she would, however, in the state she was in, Azyra's head was still spinning, and her less than graceful posture could give some insight to that, along with the lack of colour in her skin, she was far paler than she was in the tavern, though her words came in response, "Ah... No thank you, I-I'll keep myself right here..." While she tried to keep her calmed composure, it was noticeably cracking slightly, through both her body battling literally itself, and her uneasy voice, one might guess she was sick, if they knew no better. Taking another breath, Azyra felt the need to introduce herself at least., "Azyra. A pleasure."


ₘₐᵢdₑₙ ₒf ₚᵢᵣₐₜₑₛ
LOCATION: Kito's Carriage

MOOD: Lost in the Sauce

Heavenchi Heavenchi , x_Tasia_X x_Tasia_X , Impius Impius , & Mineczka Mineczka
osran shackerly
Osran forgot just how hungry he was until Kito mentioned a meal. He had been living on nothing but ale for the last day and a half. Nothing new for him; he spent most of his days drinking his thoughts away. However, the notion of a meal was enough to make his mouth water; especially a meal at no expense. An expensive meal at no expense was even better.


Osran was the last to enter the carriage, ducking low so as to not hit the top of his head on the doorframe. It seemed like it would be a cramped ride for someone of his stature. He groaned inwardly; he'd probably be more comfortable walking to the diner on his own, but it would be rude to refuse the ride from the Wolf Slayer. He would rather not get on her bad side this earlier into their journies together.

Fortunately, to his surprise, the inside of the carriage did not match the outside, so he didn't need to worry about his height being an issue. It was quite nice; a tall ceiling with a gorgeous chandelier, couches, pillows, cubbies, and a rather extensive assortment of dried meats, fruit, and drink for their travels. Those of the Barren's household truly traveled in luxury.

He made quick work once inside, placing his satchel in one of the nooks in the back of the carriage. He removed the side sword and katana from his back, gingerly placing them on racks. They were too large and awkward for them to remain on his person for the drive. His daggers, however, never left their sheaves.

He had just finished securing his blades when a disgusting, horrific sound reached his ears. He swung around with remarkable speed, his eye wide in both panic and anger. It wasn't hard to find the source of the noise; the man with the bow, chowing down on the food as if his life depending on it. The sight made Osran grimace; the sound made him want to crawl into his skin.

This man has just unknowingly triggered Osran's fight-or-flight instinct. His sense of hearing had heightened dramatically after the loss of his eye, leaving him with the ability to perceive more than he wished. The slightest sounds were enough to make him irritated, but the sound of chewing drove him absolutely mad.

No, no; wait, hold on. This... was an overreaction. Something was in the back of his mind, tugging at his unease. A familiar presence.

He bit his bottom lip in embarrassment, hoping his fellow slayers were too preoccupied with themselves to notice him as he attempted to ignore his discomfort.

Instead of taking a seat on the couch, as a normal individual would, Osran chose to perch on top of the arm of the couch. It looked like an awkward position to choose to be in; one leg bent beneath him, the other hanging off the side. He crossed his arms against his chest, leaning back to balance some of his weight. It was the position of ease for him; should anything choose to happen, this provided the quickest motion upward and ready to fight. His balance, though hindered by the loss of his eye, was still enough to keep him situated without falling.

The carriage started with a lurch, causing him to lean forward slightly.

The man, mouth and pockets stuffed with food, took a seat just next to Osran, much to his exasperation. The Wolf Slayer took a seat opposite him, the girl with the scars next to her. The woman in armor chose to sit in one of the small pillows in the front of the carriage.

Osran attempted to keep from physically wincing as the man opened his mouth, still full of food, to remark on the appearance of the carriage; he wasn't sure if he succeeded. In his rowdy-like motion, the man's right hand brushed against Osran's knuckles. Osran froze, not moving an inch but choosing to side-eye a glare in the man's general direction.

The next few minutes were an absolute blur. The man continued to speak, words flying out of his mouth about faster than a dagger could fly from Osran's hands (which, for anyone wondering, was quite fast). The young girl piped up after, her sudden outburst immediately mixing with her embarrassment.

After processing what had just happened, Osran eyed the two slayers in disbelief; perhaps, also, a bit of discomfort. These two were painfully open with their experiences; something that Osran was not ready to get into. He had absolutely no wish to make it known to the party that he was, in fact, also motherless.

The woman on the pillows followed suit, her soft voice cracking under what he could only assume to be nervousness. Curious.

Now, well, that's all of them; Wolf Slayer, Dead Mom #1, Dead Mom #2, and the One Who Looked About To Vomit.

Wait, no, those were not their names. Osran crinkled his nose in annoyance; he could have sworn he was paying attention. He couldn't even bring himself to remember the name of the Wolf Slayer; the name he had so excitedly found out not hours prior. This might be a small issue.

Pulling himself out of his own head, he noticed that a small silence had taken the party after One Who Looked About To Vomit Azyra spoke. That was most likely his cue; he supposed it was his turn to introduce himself.

He cleared his throat softly, once again choosing to look down at his arms rather than look any of his companions in the eye.

"Osran." He paused, his lips pursed in hesitation. Should there be more than that? He hadn't needed to do this in a long while. After a moment- perhaps a moment too long- he continued.


Well, now it was awkward, again. Lovely job, Osran.

He managed a thin smile.

"Pleasure to be among such a cast of slayers."

Was that an insult, or a compliment? He shrugged internally, unsure of his own answer. He meant no ill will, either way. He was merely, very honest.
code by valen t.


✧"make it enough."✧
Kito Flaz'in Burgundy, the Wolf slayer.
"The Barren Guild's princess."
After offering a dining experience to her newly formed group, Kito found herself seated alongside an old acquaintance. Despite the fact she never

acknowledged it, Kito recognized Nina. She was a prodigy in her own way. Once Azyra, the Angel took her seat, Kito tensed. She didn't particularly like having

her back turned against combatants. The feeling of irritation only grew when chewing sounds found their way to her ears. To make matters worse, the one-

eyed bandit took a seat on the arm of Ktio's priceless burgundy couch. The moment Kito was about to express her dissatisfaction, introductions continued.

Rowan, Azyra, Nina, and Osran. This bunch of names were easy enough to remember, so Kito scorched them into her memory. The other bits of info the others

let slip didn't make such an impact. Kito was bound to forget these tidbits later. Kito did, however, take note of Rowan's accent, Osran quiet demeanor, and

Nina's openness. Feeling as if she should reintroduce herself, Kito stood up and gave a small curtsy.

"Kito Flaz'in Burgundy, daughter of Burma and Vector Burgundy," Kito started nonchalantly, making eye contact with the slayers in front of her. Spinning on her dominant heel, Kito faced the sickly angel that sat behind her.

"As you all know, I'm your guide and commander. What I say goes, no exceptions," Kito instructed, allowing her eyes to glow beneath the thick lenses that adorned her face. Returning to her seated position, Kito crossed her arms.

"I'm sure you all bring much to the table therefore I'd like you all to reveal your skill sets," Kito expressed, glancing from Nina to Osran, to Rowan, before turning briefly to glance at Azyra. Finding it particularly rude to request others to reveal their cards, Kito decided to initiate the conversation.

"As you all know, I'm Barren blessed. I can summon fire, manipulate it, my strength rivals that of a B-tier swarm, and my durability has saved my life countless times," Kito stated nonchalantly, taking her lenses off to give a sense of sincerity and openness.

"In terms of personal abilities, I'm a rather skilled swordsman," Kito explained, pointing at the greatsword she stored in the weapon's rack with the hand that held her lenses. Biting her lip to relieve her fear of public speaking, Kito continued on.

"I'll do my best to keep a majority of our enemies focused on me and what I believe to be the shieldmaiden," Kito elaborated, her confidence dwindling as she mentioned Azyra. She had heard the woman's name from time to time, but she wasn't sure if she correctly assumed the woman's battle position. A slight jolt of the carriage made Kito toss on her glasses and look around briefly before returning to stare at Nina.

"Don't kill yourself trying to heal us," Kito murmured in the fae's ear. Based on prior experience, Kito knew Fae had a tendency to give out their blood like wine during expeditions. Now quiet, the stares of her new associates burned Kito, causing her face to go red. How embarrassing.

(Fun fact, I deleted like 3 paragraphs because they sounded redundant.)

✏ Nervous, Kito is doing her best to get things situated.
✏ Awkard, Kito is used to subordinates, not peers.
✏ Relieved, everyone seems comfortable enough.


A little Valkyrie of a healer.
Azyra Constanza "The Cerulean Lancer"

Feeling the carriage move and shake every so often did no aid to Azyra, whose travel sickness was nothing short of a
feeling as if she was going to die in the back of this damned contraption. Trying to ignore her feeling of sickness, trying to force her nausea and disorientation away through simply ignoring the damned feelings her body was experiencing. Slowing her mind down was a start, instead of focusing on everything, and addressing her symptoms, Azyra thought it best to ignore them, as in theory, if she ignored the symptoms enough, they'd fade... It's worth a shot.

As Kito stood to address the party, Azyra diverted her sickly focus to her, first hearing the woman's full name, and title at that. She knew she was rich, but having a bit of context, Azyra could gander she was somewhere between very wealthy and buy a private island chain wealthy, frankly, it was something that drove the Cerulean Lancer up a wall, for a single family to have that much in their coffers to pretty much throw money at anything, and there were some who could barely afford to eat for a day. Dragging her mind from the annoyance of the great fortunes of her employer, especially with hearing what came next, a brief description of what they do in a fight.

That brought Azyra back into her own court, hearing Kito make mention of her gifts, Azyra's stomach turned against itself, as the deep black markings masked by her armour silently seared their way deeper into her body, slowly but surely, it was trying to take over. Setting her gaze away, Azyra couldn't help but think of what she was to say, was she going to mention the curse? What it does, and how she can manipulate it? What about the Chaos Energy that was harboured in her body, battling with the Mana, trying to spread further. Furthermore, what of the fits she had, should she let them know now? And what about her inability to be healed from this curse, which was slowly turning her into a monster. There was so much she could say, and so much that Azyra didn't want to mention, she didn't want anyone else knowing of her plight, that she was slowly being turned into one of the things they were to kill.

Taking a small gulp of air, Azyra turned back to her new companions, "Aye, I am oft positioned to the front, first to the fray, where I hold the line." Taking a small pause, she wanted to make sure Kito knew she was right, might as well bolster the egos of her companions, "I've quite a few abilities under my belt, for starters, I am a master spear-wielder, paired with my shield, I've the unique skillset of denial." A small laugh came from Azyra, no more than a couple of exhales, she was reminded of the first time she sparred with someone, and the anger they had at her for her actions, "I force my enemy to fight me on my terms, disrupting their magic, blessings, Chaos Energy, and so on, confusing and befuddling them while bolstering those behind my shield." Leaning forward for a moment, Azyra brought out one last feature, as a set ivory wings stretched from her back, showcasing a small bit of her wingspan, and showing the tips of her feathers, which slowly turned crimson red to the tips of her feathers, "Furthermore, I am blessed by the Goddess Myera, as such, I take up her wings of hope, and rise up through the night... Or so the legends of Myera's blessing goes... Any Questions?"


The Abysster

Rowan O'Daly Carriage Ride Direct Interaction:
x_Tasia_X x_Tasia_X

Rowan grinned and lifted a calloused hand up, leaning over the table that sat between the couches. "Now that's an introduction! Dead mom club!" He was leaning toward Nina, his eyes squinted in amusement, really enhancing the starts of crows feet developing by his eyes. He happily recieved his high five, leaning back into his spot, "we'll get along just fine. Rowan gave Azyra an understanding nod. He wasn't aware of her reasoning but figured it was good enough.

"Pleasure to meet ya'll."

Both Kito and Azyra had something impressive to say about themselves. Especially once Azyra popped out her wings, Rowan had a slight jaw drop. An angel she was! He would remeber that for later. He decided he would be the next one to go, standing as if that would bring extra attention to himself. "Well to start, dont try to drown me. It wont work. I can breathe under water. Unless you want to drown me in liquor, then..." he gave his audience a wink, "then feel free. Anything to do with water. I got you. Now dont expect me to get nice and close and personal in combat. I need to have some distance. Ya know, else a bow doesnt work the best. I can handle myself in close combat but I reeeaalllly prefer not to. You keep them at bay, give me a clear shot for just a second and I can drop them like flies. Umm... lets see. I can make it rain if you want. Though I do prefer not to do that since the weather change makes my bad knee ache. Nothing I cant over come, though." Rowan smiled at them all and shrugged, sitting back down. "I cant think of much else, you'll just have to see I suppose. I ain't much of anything too special like Kito here. I only got my powers out of pity." He waved a hand as if dismissing himself from his introduction.


ₘₐᵢdₑₙ ₒf ₚᵢᵣₐₜₑₛ
LOCATION: Kito's Carriage

MOOD: Conflicted, aggravated, more or less confident in his abilities.

osran shackerly
If Osran noticed that the Wolf Slayer was aggravated by his choice of seating, he made no effort to rectify his position.

He nodded in recognition when she stood and officially introduced herself, confirming her name to be as it was printed on her job posters; Kito Flaz’in Burgundy.

Kito, Kito, Kito. Stop forgetting that.

When she turned to meet his eye, he swiftly averted her gaze, fixating his own on the wall of the carriage straight in front of him.

"....and what I say goes, no exceptions."

His eyesight now on the floor, he smirked in mild amusement. Without missing a step, the Wolf Slayer made quick work of letting them know who was in charge. Her tone, her posture, her mannerisms; all characteristics of a woman who meant serious business. He could only assume that going against her word would lead a man a few steps closer to his grave.

While that was a prospect he would like to entertain, she need not worry about insurrection from him. Osran was not one to question authority; he had always been more of a follower than a leader.

She continued to speak, asking the four of them for their skills before revealing her own.

Osran waited a few seconds to see if any of the others would offer information.

The spear-maiden chose to speak first, her tone revealing a hint of unease.

Osran's eyes widened at the sight of her wings before his eyebrows furrowed in thought. Oh, he definitely had questions, but none important enough to warrant him to speak up yet. There was something about this woman… No, she did not scare him, but she made him uneasy. Her wings were unlike any angels he had ever seen; he may not have met many patrons of Myera in his lifetime, but he did not remember any trace of red feathers on their wings.

His unease was momentarily forgotten as the loudmouth beside him began to speak. He could only look in horror as the "Dead Mom Club" shared a dreary high-five.

Deliberately choosing to ignore that exchange, he observed the man with his peripherals. A ranged bowman with the powers related to water; blessed by the likes of Noah, no doubt. Osran took note of his liquor comment, recalling his earliest memories of the man. It seemed he was not the only one with a drinking... hobby.

Let's see: Barren, Myera, Noah. He could only assume the young woman sitting beside Kito would reveal another deity to add to their diversity.

In turn, he swallowed and took a deep breath.


He paused, unsure how to continue. Of course, he knew what he was, but he was still in the constant battle of refusing to acknowledge... him. While any deception would not help him nor his comrades, it would taste a sweet lie to say he wasn't tempted to ignore his patronage.

How could he speak the name that he had kept off his lips for five years, or reveal the blessing bestowed on him that he renounced?

He could not. He would not. Even so, the others were so plain with their patronages; it would not go unnoticed if he chose to ignore his.

While his internal struggle may not have seemed evident to those around him, it did not go unnoticed to one.

All of a sudden, Osran's foot started tapping against the arm of the sofa. He froze, taking a second to stare at it in confusion. His foot drummed a beat that he was all too familiar with; one that was frequently played within the confines of his mind.

The confusion dissipated quickly, making way for swift aggravation.

He was not moving his foot. Though true, that may seem hard to believe, of course, in his current situation.

Damn him. Leave me alone.

In a manner that seemed more aggressive than needed, the man rolled his ankle, ceasing the movement of his foot.

There was no thought in his mind, no word on his lip that would acknowledge the one who continued to pester him. Osran would never give him that satisfaction.

Forget it. Forget him.

Now, this all took place in a manner of fifteen seconds, but it was enough to notice that Osran was... a bit at war with himself.

If anything, the incident only strengthened his resolve. He would make no mention of... him. Let the others infer If they wished.

"I..." He struggled to regain a tangible train of thought.

"I... may… move things that I wish without laying a hand on them. In dire situations… I may also control the actions of those around me." He shifted uncomfortably in his position. The powers gifted to him were... no longer known to him. It had been years since he mustered up the energy to use them. Were he asked to call upon them, he was not sure he would even be able to.

He was so close to losing his cool.

Pull yourself together. It is too early for this.

He took another deep breath, steadying his mind.

Pull yourself together.

"On account of my enhanced senses and reflexes, my skills are best utilized for stealth." He seemed to regain his composure as he dropped his other foot onto the ground to sit a bit taller. Not that he needed to.

"I may come and go as I wish, with none being the wiser. A secret cannot pass through lips without reaching my ear. A dagger thrown from my hand is one not seen, only felt." He lifted the right side of his long vest. Dozens of daggers were lined inside the fabric; one could only assume that the other side carried the same. A few were belted across his tanned chest, partially obscuring his large, faded scars from view.

"Whether it be reconnaissance, shock tactics, or perhaps an attack of surprise, my use is up to you." He dropped the vest, bowing his head in Kito's direction, though his eyes stayed trained to the ground.

“Despite that, I am also a swordsman, so I can hold my own in open battle. I’ll support your attacks from behind, but I’m… worthless taking lead.” With words pointed towards both the Wolf Slayer and the Spear Maiden, he motioned to his two swords hanging from the racks where he left them.

Unfortunately, there was one last thing, wasn't there?

Better to address sooner than later.

“Of course, in the…spirit of transparency…”

Osran heaved a soft sigh before reaching his left hand towards his face. He frowned slightly, using his long fingers to push his hair away, revealing the dark bandages that covered half of it.

“Before you have to ask; yes, I am missing an eye. No, it will not impede my abilities, and no, you cannot see the scar.” He let his hair down quickly before falling silent.

The words seemed stale as if they were part of a speech he had to give many times before. Yet, perhaps this time, there was a twinge of uncertainty in his voice.

*Please note, poor Osran is not as awkward as it seems as written; the entire exchange only takes up about thirty seconds of time before he recovers.
code by valen t.


Nina Simone Reaverwood
"Blood Enchantress"

Nina hadn't noticed Kito's gaze on her until the other woman leaned over to whisper something in her ear. Nina tilted her head a bit, listening intently to what Kito had to say.

Then her mind went blank for a moment. She closed her eyes as she forced a smile. She was silent for a few seconds as she pondered. Did she hear her right? That didn't make any sense to Nina. Her blood was the best thing about her. Nina appreciated the concern, but she was prepared to give this mission everything she had.

Nina didn't let her confusion show, she kept on her smile and nodded, "Of course, I can't be of use if I'm dead." She said into Kito's ear lightheartedly. She felt a little bad for lying, but it was her duty as one of Ada's favored to use the gift she was given. And it was only a half lie, she wasn't planning on dying on this mission anyways. She felt a hint of disapproval in her gut at the verdict she came up with. That must be Ada, she's just as humble as ever! Nina smiled a little at that.

Nina pulled away from Kito's ear when she realized she was being spoken to by Rowan again. Shewas a bit confused by Rowan's reaction to her earlier outburst. He should be glaring at her for making such an insensitive comment, not offering a high five and an invitation to the dead mom club. Nina peered at his hand for a moment and smiled widely, giving Rowan a firm high five. She liked his upbeat attitude. Friendly people were great; they made her feel confident enough to talk.

That's when Nina quieted down to fully listen to introductions, she didn't think anything new about her companions. Her opinion stayed the same as the ones she had in the tavern. Kito was still super cool, Azyra was also cool but in more of an elegant way, Rowan was still in a silly goofy mood, and Osran was still pitiful. But they all had one strange thing in common. They were all really attractive??? She's never seen so many pretty people in one place, it was confusing and distracting. How was she gonna fight in this group if she's too distracted by her comrades. Today was not a good day to be Pansexual.

Nina was spacing out when she realized that it was her turn to explain her talents and stuff. "Oh- um. Hi, I'm Nina." She shouldn't have said anything…

"Wait, I already said that-" She mumbled to herself. "I use this double-bladed staff," she motioned to the green one she had on the weapon rack. She named her staff too, but they didn't need to know that.

"I can obviously hold my own in a battle, whether that's in the front or not. I have quick reflexes and have experience in combat with my staff, and hand to hand combat." She explained, sounding like she was repeating a script.

"My most useful asset is my blood. I'm a fae favored by Ada, and my blood has more potent healing abilities than that of the average fae. And don't be afraid to ask for my assistance, I'm always happy to help. " She finished her statement with a smile, her eyes closed and her hands politely folded in her lap. Something about the way she spoke about her blood was slightly uneasy. Maybe it was the readiness to give it away, or how casually she mentions it.

She opened her eyes again and glanced around the room, she never liked looking at people after she explained that she was a fae. A lot of times they would look at her like they were hungry. Especially on missions. That's why she decided to only work with her brother. She was tired of pretending not to notice when someone cut her in her sleep to steal a vial of blood for themselves.


✧"make it enough."✧
Kito Flaz'in Burgundy, the Wolf slayer.
"The Barren Guild's princess."
"No questions at all," muttered Kito as she looked in awe at the Myera blessed warrior before her. Kito had seen many of Myera's children on the battlefield but never had she seen such beautiful wings. Typically the backs of Angels were adorned with white, grey, and even golden wings. Kito had never seen crimson tips. Ah, Azyra must be favored, as was Kito. It appeared they had more than their fighting capabilities in common.

"Your Goddess adores you," Kito commented half heartily, nodding in approval at Azyra's description and display. It was when Nina's words reached Kito's ears did a look of disapproval begin to adorn Kito's face. While staring at the woman next to her, Kito analyzed Nina's response. It was clear she misunderstood Kito's commentary. No matter, Kito had plans to make sure the fae never felt a need to sacrifice. Hopefully.

When the first fellow began his introduction, Kito's gaze shifted. Kito couldn't help but smile at who she knew now as Rowan. When he spoke it was clear his charisma was in abundance. Her approval only grew at the mention of his mer capabilities. Thank the Gods they had a child of Noah around, they'd need him. Once Rowan finished his introduction, Kito began internally planning a battle formation. Rowan would need to be somewhere in the back, perhaps closer to the shieldmaiden. Kito shook her head, it was too soon to plan such a thing. Kito was unaware of the other's abilities. On queue, Osran spoke.

"Well I'll be," Kito murmured in awe at the discovery of his God. Osran was a touched, a rare breed indeed. His telekinesis would come in handy in almost every situation. To make matters even more favorable, he confessed assassin-like capabilities. He was perfect. Kito immediately approved of his shaky introduction within the first few sentences. Osran was a keeper. Nodding briefly at his bow, Kito quickly waved away his disclaimer in regards to his eye. Kito had fought side by side with those missing limbs, a lost eye or two raised no concern. Now back to Nina.

Kito stared at the fae with surgeon-like attention. She clearly possessed a terrible trait most fae possessed, a desire to give. It wouldn't be so bad if the gift in mention wasn't blood, their blood to be exact. Fortunately, the fae's introduction was short meaning Kito didn't have to stare and access for long. The commentary on her blood confirmed Kito's assumption. She was a giver. This was bad. With a huff, Kito put her arm around the child of Ada.

"Coveting the blood of fae is punishable by death," Kito stated bluntly eyeing her new comrades. Kito was well aware of the misconduct fae faced behind the scenes. That wouldn't be the case in her presence. Despite the fact, Kito couldn't detect a look of desire in the eyes of her new team, it was better safe than sorry. Deciding to be more precise, Kito continued.

"The Goddess of Nature and Health is not to be overlooked. Do not bring her wrath towards us by unnecessarily taking from one of her own," Kito ordered tightening her hold on the fae's shoulder.

"Fatal and debilitating wounds only, do I make myself clear?" Kito whispered rather loudly in Nina's ear. In truth, Nina reminded her of a child. An entity in need of protection. Nina describing her blood as an asset unnerved the barren blessed. With a sigh, Kito lifted her arm from the fae's shoulders and returned to her arms crossed stance.

"For the most part, remain in this order," Kito started, changing the subject.

"Azyra and I should always remain in the front, Nina in the middle, and Rowan behind her. In regard to our Imani blessed," Kito elaborated, eyeing Osran.

"I'd prefer if you would stay in the shadows but within a several-second sprint from the rear and front," Kito stated bluntly. Hopefully that made sense, Kito wasn't the best at articulation.

"Questions, comments, concerns?"

✏ Stiff, Kito is struggling with interacting with peers. She's accustomed to subordinates.
✏ Serious, the following topics are no laughing matter.
~Battle formation
~The wellbeing of Ada's child
✏ Open, Kito desires to know the inner thoughts of her comrades.​


A little Valkyrie of a healer.
Azyra Constanza "The Cerulean Lancer"
Please get her off this Carriage.

After her uncomfortable words, Azyra had soon stashed her wings, appearing as if dissolved into small lights, she wanted this talk about her to be over as fast as possible, as her humility kept her words in check, Azyra knew she was nothing special, especially so without that blasted curse of hers. What seldom aided, was the bumping and swaying of the carriage, while the worst of her travel sickness had subsided, it still remained, an ever present reminder to Azyra of her own body's weaknesses.

Following her words, were Rowan's. He mentioned being unable to drown, a blessed of Noah, it would seem. As he spoke of his abilities, Azyra pieced together what she could from his words, and especially so with their formation in the field. Hearing his preference of distance, Azyra knew he was a backlines archer, preferring to hit his foes from a range where they cannot hit him. Furthering the idea of keeping Rowan in the back, was his mention of his bad knee. Gods Azyra felt that, especially when she had to recover from so many wounds and still fight, nothing makes a fight harder than internal bleeding. Yet something bothered Azyra, Rowan's mention of his powers were out of... Pity. A sentiment that Azyra had felt many-a-time in her life.

Interrupting that line of thought, however, was Osran, explaining his blessing as controlling another's emotions and telekinesis of sorts. A skillset Azyra had quite a few qualms with, though never spoke of, and never held against anyone than the God responsible. However, Osran had more to say, mentioning his preference and ability for stealth, a scout, thief, and assassin. A handy ally to have, even if he had lost an eye. Though, something seemed off on Osran's words, he was... As uncomfortable as she was, and while not for the exact same reasons, Azyra had a feeling he was trying to hide something, just like she was. Looking over to him, a soft, gentle smile crept over her lips, hoping to dissuade his unease.

The last to speak, was Nina, who pulled away from Kito's ear, as the two seemed to had been whispering between each other. Azyra presumed they were friends of some sort, which, confused her. For what felt was time immemorial, she had been told that Kito, the great Kito Flaz'in Burgundy had made few friends in her trails, yet, here they were, sitting near each-other in a goddamned wheeled death trap known as a carriage. Shaking her head, Azyra toned Nina's voice back into her mind, and just in time to hear her blessing from Ada, her blood was potent in healing... Azyra's stomach sank like lead, they had someone who could deliver healing to her teammates, and in that same team, was Azyra, the one godsdamned person in this world it seemed that couldn't be healed with magics. What are the odds.

However, Kito had made the remark of coveting Fae blood. A Dark stain on the world was that, Azyra couldn't recall how many times she had been asked to aid in busting a few doors in about that with her old guild. She knew how wrathful Ada could be when it came to her ilk, and Kito stressed the same belief. Following the display, was a marching order, Azyra and Kito to the front, followed by Nina, Rowan, and Osran in the shadows where he can aid either side. While the marching order was solid, Azyra knew she was the secondary interceptor, as, few things in this world can outmatch the speed of Myera's blessed. Drawing away from her thoughts, though, was that curse she had, and the guilt of hiding it from her new team, casting her eyes to the ground, Azyra couldn't do much other debate her own decision, especially with the words of Osran coming back... For the sake of transparency.... He seemed to know she was hiding something, judging from his posture towards her, Azyra felt her resolve slip ever so slightly, bit by bit. Especially knowing they were going into a dangerous place, it would be best to say something of her curse, anything to be honest....

And yet, Azyra's words remained choked up in her chest, she wasn't going to share it, the curse she bears will remain a secret to the grave, nobody will know of it... Yet, strangely, the guilt persisted in her chest, it was a strange conundrum, she had been on countless missions battling monsters with other slayers, and always withheld the information that bore itself into her side, and still, it persisted that she couldn't feel right to lie to this group, or hide her true skills for long. Taking another breath, Azyra played her discomfort as more of her travel sickness, just for now at least...


Nina Simone Reaverwood
Blood Enchantress
Nina wasn't paying much attention after she introduced herself. She looked a bit distant. Until Kito wrapped her arm around her shoulders. She glanced at the other warrior inquisitively, her gaze turning to the others in the group as she spoke. Oh? Her expression turned to surprise, no one beside her brother had ever done that before.. Her expression matched her thoughts, she looked confused and slightly concerned. It left an uneasy feeling in her gut. She could handle people who used her. They were easy to predict and it never hurt when they inevitably hurt her. Kind people were different. It hurts more when you thought they weren't going to hurt you and then they do. It seemed like she was setting herself up to be hurt again, then.

Nina glanced at Kito as she loudly whispered in her ear. She almost looked upset for a split second. Her request made no sense! What did she have to offer to this group besides her abilities? She had no other purpose! Did she think she was weak? Maybe that's why she didn't want her to heal the others unless necessary.

That… made sense. And that probably explained Kito's warning to the group. Nina felt dumb for thinking someone cared about her wellbeing. She was probably just like a kicked puppy to these types of people. Not an actual person. She recognized that look, it was pity. Nina hated being pitied more than anything. She didn't need pity, she was blessed! One of Ada's most favored, Even in the bad times, Ada saved her. She was lucky to be chosen and she certainly was not pitiful.

Nina was upset, and she felt rejected. Her eyebrows furrowed, but her expression remained leveled otherwise. She sent a few glances to the other members, surely one of them would disagree? Right? One of them had to see that she could be useful. After a moment Nina gave in and nodded to the woman beside her. A small smile on her face.

"Of course." She briefly replied. With that over, Nina half-listened to what Kito was saying. She tried to look attentive but her mind seemed to slip elsewhere, she picked up the battle placements and that she would fight in the middle of the group. She didn't say anything else after that though, she had plenty of concerns but she was pretty used to her opinions never mattering in questing groups so she's learned to bite her tongue. The only person who cares about her is Markus Lee.


The Abysster

Rowan O'Daly Carriage Ride
Rowan had a certain fascination with Azyra that he couldn't quite nail on the head, however uneasy she seemed at the moment. Nina was definitely going to be beneficial to everyone, Kito giving a firm reminder about the highly illegal gathering and distribution of fae blood. He lazily waved a hand about the subject. "Ain't in any interest of mine. If I wanted execution, I'd rather have a decent story to post in the papers." He passed his comment off in a slightly joking tone, but the serious undertone was... well less of an undertone. A failed joke on his behalf despite his shining eyes and spirited smile.

Not only was it apparent everyone came from different walks of life, but their skills and blessings were all vastly different as well. Each useful in its own way, everyone falling easily into a spot on the battlefield that benefited the group as long as each member fulfilled their duties. Yet it seemed to pass over his head that a few of the party members had something to hide or showed a general unease with the required "Share and Tell" part of this episode. He was very much at ease, as if he was in his own home. The slightly physically disabled older gentleman was apparent with the fact that his guard was down. If he couldn't trust these people now, what would be the difference in twenty-four or forty-eight hours from now? For all the Gods knew, they could face combat sooner. Not that he expected it, but until proven otherwise, his loyalty and trust rested with the group. Besides if all went south, he would either get one of his greatest wishes or somehow luck out and literally drag himself from another traumatic carnage event. Not that it's happened before.

His overall opinion of the crew was yet to remain determined, as he wanted to give himself some more interaction time. An hour or three could make a world of difference during interactions. He mindlessly chewed on some of the jerky that he had taken previously. Osran would be useful cleaning up what their female front liners couldn't finish off or were forced to move past. Azyra and Kito were going to pair well on the front lines with Nina, who, seemed overly willing to give her blood. The definition of an Ashen. Rowan had his fair share of encounters with the fae in the wilds versus the fae of the markets. Needless to say, something needed to be done about the black market for the fae's sake. All too willing to please another even if it results in a needless death. As long as it brought a momentary lapse of happiness, right? P

erhaps Nina was not quite that severe, and Rowan truly hoped that she would be a little stingy at times. He gave his two cents about the situation directly to Nina himself, just so she was sure where he stood on the subject since it was on hand. "Just don't go around giving your life needlessly, ya know? There are some things the body can deal with by itself naturally, despite certain dire situations, there;s usually another way." Any form of jokes or amusement left his voice with his statement, his playful disposition silent and still for a moment. Besides, the body needs to heal naturally, right? Was there long term adverse affects to being healed by magic, let alone fae blood ? Had anyone even looked into that..? Rowan's mind began to drift far from the topic at hand, shaking his head as Kito asked about questions or comments. There would be more to say later with dinner.

Users who are viewing this thread

Similar threads

  • Sub Genres:
    1. Action
    2. Adventure
    3. Platonic
    4. Supernatural
  • Sub Genres:
    1. Action
    2. Adventure
    3. Horror
    4. LGTBQ
    5. Slice of Life
  • Sub Genres:
    1. Adventure
    2. Horror
    3. Magical
    4. Supernatural
  • Sub Genres:
    1. Action
    2. Cyberpunk
    3. Dystopian
    4. LGTBQ
    5. Magical
    6. Mystery
    7. Romance
    8. Super Powers
    9. Supernatural
  • Sub Genres:
    1. Action
    2. Adventure
    3. Magical
    4. Multiverse
    5. Supernatural