Sutoratosu

hehehehe... actually... he probably wouldn't judge Henry for it if he saw... he's more the type who when people go bashing each other for stupid or trivial matters, just sits there and says "So what? what can you honestly cite about it that's wrong, besides the fact that you yourself have some issue with it?" He judges people based on their actions, not on who they are... like say, if you killed a man for example... even if that killing might've been technically justified in self defense given the situation and you were an ex-Rocket Gangster...

"Quickest battle yet..." Mareek mumbled as he watched Jacob mop the floor with his opponent. Not that it was honestly that surprising, the guy had gone out there cocky and trying make a show, and he just got his ass handed to him as a reward. "I didn't even count a single hit that they got in on his team...did you?" Java shook his head, though he directed his trainer's attention to one thing in particular on the screen... the ice field. "I know... still using the same tactic it seems. But chances are he's figured out something that's made electrocuting the field a bit less effective. Luckily though, I've been doing a bit of work with Nemo just for things like that..." The two of them took their attention away from the monitor as the next fight began, the very same guy who had blown everything before taking his place across the field from some student Mareek didn't recognize nor cared to find out about. Java couldn't help but wonder about something though, given how admitably flawless Jacob's victory had just been... "What is our strategy here?" The porygon2 asked via his trainer's pokedex. "Offensive, Adaptive, Deception? who will be doing the fighting?" "None of them," Mareek said simply, reaching to his belt a retrieving Nemo's capsule, depressing the trigger and sending out the Cubone in a flash of white as his co-strategist watched. "And to answer your second question, it's you and Nemo who I'm running with in this match; We're going to be deviating from the usual tactics here, instead of of an adaptive offensive like I use with Erce or a Stone Wall appraoch like I do with you, what we're using here is going to be a bit of Defensive Alternation in a way..." Java only looked at him skeptically, eyes demanding the boy explain what exactly he was going on about. "You two are going to be focused covering each other's flanks on the battlefield instead of just hauling off with attacks and counters to the opponent. What that means is that Java; you'll be watching Nemo's back, if something comes his way, you step in and intercept it with an attack of your own. Nemo, same goes for you, just vica-versa... we're going to create a wall to break up any initial salvo of attacks, test the waters, then we'll either just keep it up while tossing in our own counters here and there to whittle them down to nothing, our we'll go full offense and keep the pressure on the other side. You two understand?" Nemo nodded earnestly, brandishing his club in anticipation as he looked over to Java as he gave approval to the plan as well, though he was still a bit weary of this sudden change up from what had been working so well for them so long... it seemed sound enough though, worth a shot at least. The moment after both of them had agreed to the plan, Nemo was back inside his capsule as the Java and Mareek started back off down the corridor again, passing the monitor by without so much as a glance, carrying on their search for their upcoming opponent... chances are though, she'd be in other waiting room...

I was wanting the move sets, but eh, not too important right now.

I know the basic members, I was just hoping to get a more in-depth roster...

eh, Chim, just for future reference, what's Lana's current team?

"Indeed it was long ago," the merchant responded, his voice darkening as he himself leaned forward a bit on the counter, eyes glinting like fire holding Matrim in their sights. "But it was a long and hard wallow, a wallow that claimed the lives of those I loved, a wallow that showed me the power that the nobility have to better the lives of those beneath them with just a bit of effort and compasion, yet do not use or even consider. A wallow that showed me the injustice in this world, regardless of whatever lies the Church spouts about peace and that all mouths are fed in this world... a Wallow, that when it was over, made me hate those who hold power but do not use it for good... a wallow that out of six children, only left myself an my older brother Abed alive. And I shall tell you of this wallowing I did." He reached to the fingers of his hand and removed the rings there; Matrim could spot three identical emblems emblazoned upon each of them, a golden hand, palm open. Two of them had strange burgundy stains... suspect of how they had been obtained. He rolled up his sleeves after the jewelry was placed on the counter, revealing arms filled with various scars long since healed, yet still jagged and ugly on the man's olive skin. Matrim could notice an abnormality on one of his elbows, as if the thing had been...broken, bent backwards, and never quite healed right. He pulled aside his robes from the center of his chest, revealing...steel... and copious amounts of leather serving as cushioning underneath it, giving the illusion of a beer belly. that was when Matrim noticed just how powerful both his arms were, gripping the table, veins bulging from his fist. And now that Matrim got good look from him leaning in as well, the fellows face was lean, pockmarked, bearded... not plump and soft like one would expect. This man was no fat and happy bastard. He was far from it. and his gaze was all the more striking now that his features were put on better display... "Thought I was fat, didn't you?" He asked rhetorically. "Many think that upon a distant glance... think me to be fat and weak, soft. But it is merely this armor and the leather that makes me appear so... I have no choice but to wear them, with the copious amounts of highborn bastards who want the heads of those like myself... and it doesn't help that I had to comandeer it recently from a...much larger friend of mine." he readjusted his robes, concealing the gleam of the steel again. "My name is Al-akmed Machai, born in the slums of Lithania, to a weak yet nonetheless endearing mother who was eventually killed by the same worthless drunkard who spawned me and my siblings and whom me and my brothers killed immediately after he did it. Myself and my siblings were on the streets and pushed into even deeper poverty before any of us were even sixteen, had to steal and take and cheat in order to find our meals. My brother Amed was the lead, being the oldest. what he said was law, and we followed his orders... and sometimes when we did, we all got rewarded for our efforts and got lucky enough to snag something to fill our bellies for a while. If you've ever been to Lithania, you know it's the absolute worse place to be a Gamin or Gamine, even these days... the streets were paved in white stone, but bathed in the blood of the homeless and the disowned as perpetual warfare between the 'Street Families' consumed every ally way and side street. My little sisters and young brother were not spared from the violence that started every single night around the six of us. One of them... defiled, left in the gutter, still don't know whether it was another Urchin or a pedophile who did it. Another one, Masha, or poor, little Masha, the youngest of us all... she was tricked by a boy from one of the families, and had her neck sliced by the fucker when we weren't looking... all for the scrap of bread she had found. I bashed his skull in with a lose stone when I finally found him... the last two, my younger brother Rodriguez and my sister Rheya... Rodriguez was captured by magistrates during a brawl to save Rheya, and rheya... she died of the stab wound she had taken to the gut before Rodriguez has managed to intervene... the bastards just left her body there on the streets, rodriguez hollering and screaming in rage as me and Abed finally managed to make it over... I wanted to kill them. Abed held me back and told me that it was over for our brother, and that we'd die if we tried going up against the White Cloaks. and that was how the two of us became the last ones of our little family... we were supposed to protect them, feed them, cloth them... keep them safe from the dangers around us, and yet... we were the only ones alive in the end." He leaned back out from Matrim now, standing straight as a sadness of sort glinted in his emerald eyes... reminiscent of someone that High way man couldn't quite put his finger on... "And in a cruel twist of irony, it was me and my brother who found the way out of poverty out of the slums... we killed a few urchins who had attacked the lost son of a merchant who had wandered into the slums, told the boy to run and beat them all down with iron pipes and cracked their little skulls and sent what little brains they had splattering on the stones... and when the boy ran, he found the men his father had sent to find him. and he told them about us. And the next thing we knew, we were standing before the man in the city's main bazaar. He...made us his son's guards, made us swear to defend him in return for food and lodgings. He wasn't a well off merchant, but he was smart, and he became one before long. And me and Abed did as we had agreed to, armed with iron pipes everywhere we went with the younger boy. A street urchin never attacked him again... or at least, never attacked and lived to tell about it. Before long the boy and us became friends... and his father taught him his trade... and he taught us. and surprisingly we grew closer to the merchant himself as well... until one day his boy came down with a wasting disease. Died in a month. He was distraught, incoherent, filled with grief by the loss of his son and only child... he had no one to carry on what he had built from the ground up, no one to take over when he died. No one...that is... except us." He paused as he noticed someone else watching them in the stall. His eyes hardened a bit as he glanced back and forth between Matrim and the newcomer. "What do you want?" he demanded from the woman. Her face was rather unremarkable, as were her clothing and body. in fact, it seemed as though everything about her was meant to blend into a crowd...a whisper monger. "I come for their rings," she said simply, reaching into her shirt and producing a necklace bearing a golden ring identical to the ones in Al-akmed's possession. His eyes softened a bit as he tossed them to her, the woman catching them nimbly with mere blurs of her fingers, stowing them inside her sleeves. "May Brother Zocaris and Sister Tamaya know peace..." "And may we make all the damn nobles bleed gold," Akmed replied. the woman nodded approvingly, and then produced a letter from her person next, tossing it to the merchant in return for the jewelry. and then she was gone like the wind, not making a sound when she turned and walked away. "To make a long story shorter," Akmed continued, this time to matrim as he began to fiddle with the seal. "Me and my brother took the reigns of the merchant's business, having learned much from his son we were finally fully out of poverty... but we both remembered it. An agreement was struck between us, we'd split the caravan down the middle, Abed getting one half, and myself getting the other. time went on... we joined an order of sorts... a Merchant's order, made up of those like us, risen from the unforgiving streets. The gold hands, we called ourselves, and we wanted only one thing; to make the Nobility of the continent pay for the plight of the slums. They had money. they had influence. they had resources. they could've helped so many just by lifting a finger... but they didn't. they sat in their estates and didn't give two damns about anyone but themselves... children like myself and my brothers were dying out there, and they saw this constantly... and always just swept it under the rug of obscurity. and so we'll ensure they pay, one way...or another." The seal finally broke, Akmed beginning to unroll the parchment. "Of course, there are obviously many enemies to our cause... many noble enemies. They kill us whenever they can get an opportunity, you know, hire death squads, sell swords and assassins to murder us... just like they did my brother ten years ago along with his wife and children. the Five of them, Abed, his wife Milaha, the oldest boy, Augustus, his younger twin brother Thabit... and even his young daughter Esmerelda. all five disappeared into thin air while Abed was out on official business for our group... the magistrates say that they were likely taken by the desert, by the sun and the heat... but I knew better." The crinkle of the paper was loud as he brought it to full length, eyes beginning to scan it's contents. "I knew that it was not the dessert that took my brother and his family... but instead was probably a Death Squad hired by a noble."

"IT's simple enough," the Dirosi man replied. "I saw you watching that. I know that you know what happened. He is simply another nobleman with wealth and coin that he did nothing to earn but instead was handed because of his status. He is like a theive, a scoundrel, all nobles are, from the dead household Valgiri to all the royal households ruling over nations today. They lie and they cheat the small man, take his coin and give naught but scraps of bread while they feast from gilded tables on desert turkey and giga boar and other delicacies while we wallow in the filth and abomination of poverty like swine. I have seen this very thing in so many places, so many times... and I got sick of it, my friend. I decided that if a nobleman or woman ever tries to deal with me, I will charge them 1000 fold my prices and give every coin made from the sale to those who genuinely needed. House Vonters is nothing more than an infant compared to others, it only has one member, the man Erick whom just left... but it is no exception even with it's young age and only having one person within it's name. I charge all nobles highly, regardless of who they are and whatever they say... for the common man. For that is my Alms." He looked at Matrim, a self righteous expression on his face as he gave his speech... and the highway man couldn't help but notice the gold rings on his fingers, or his fine cloths... he looked more refined and high classed than another merchant here, so much so that one was left to wonder if he himself was not actually of noble blood... Erick "Tell me, miss, I see you sell leather works and rider's gear and the like," Erick began, approaching a rather short, heart faced young woman with black hair framing her porcelain skinned features and eyes like the sea itself. She wore a hooded long coat, lined with wolves fur, her attire thicker in layers than most others in the emporium. He could identify her as a northen woman without difficulty, likely from either crale or the tundras of Zresia. One could call her rather delicate features beautiful even... though Erick was always one to think exclusively with the head that held his eyes and his mind. "But yet here you are, one as beautiful and skilled at trade as yourself, sitting down here with the inductees and the inexperienced members of the emporium. my Good lady, I would be lying if I said I did not find such injustice outrageous. Please, allow me to help remedy your station..." "What do you have in mind, snake?" The girl had asked pointedly, her eyes sharp as they pierced right through his flattery and got down to business... "You want something, and if isn't what's under my skirts, it must be coin... men are terribly easy to predict. So speak. and just to make it clear, if you are after the former, just walk away then, else I'll have you dragged out of here by half a dozen guards and charged with attempted solicitation..." "Ah, I am correct indeed in your skill," Erick said, this time actually genuine with the compliment. "very well then, I'm sure you'll be happy to now that what I'm after is indeed coin, a proposition benefiting us both. Do you see that man over there, the fat little Dirosi prick in stall sixty five?" "Aye, I see him" The young lady responded. "What of it?" "That fool has just scorned the wrong damn man..." Erick said, producing the sack of golden myta coins from his belt, jingling them before the Northern merchant. "All I was seeking was his wares for a journey myself and those with me must undergo, and he belittled me and hurled insults like it was his job. so I figured, merchants like he give the Emporium a bad name, do they not? so why let him keep that Stall? Why_not out bid him for his place and gift it to someone more deserving?" "I'm listening..." The girl said, intrigued. "It's simple, really. I'm going to see the runner of this establishment, out pay that man's claim on his space... there is one issue though, I'm a noble man, and by law It's prohibited that I simply buy up a stall and leave it vacant without someone conducting business in it from day to day... which brings us to the deal; I will purchase the stall and endorse you as a merchant, you will enter into the employ of my household on paper, and you will be given that man's place and show him what happens when you scorn someone as volatile of temperament such as myself..." "What percentage of the profits do I keep?" she demanded,crossing her arms over her chest. though he could tell, he'd reeled her in so far... "all of it," He said simply. "This is about making a point, my good lady, not about actual trade for me... As far as I am concerned, you may keep every myta you make." "T...that's all well and good..." She stammered, off guard by the ridiculously generous rate. "But... what noble house do you belong to; how do I know this isn't some trickery to screw me over? full profits, it seems far more than simply suspicious..." "House Vonters, miss," He said, flashing the black sigil emblazoned on his palm... "I am none other than Lord Eric, The betrothed Savior of the Princess Elise." "My god..." she gasped, shrinking away. the sharp glare in her eyes gradually gave way to...admiration? "It's...forgive my lord, it would be an absolute honor to help you bring retribution to the man who dared insult you so," She gave a small bow of her head, and Erick knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that the girl was Cralish... absolutely perfect. "But please my lord, It simply would be unjust to keep the total of my profits when I uphold a name such as House Vonters with my trading..." "Then hash out a fair amount and give it to the less fortunate you come across," Erick said, grinning at his luck. "Tell them... it is gift from Lord Vonters of Crale. and what is your name, Miss, it simply wouldn't do if I didn't know what to call the one I'm endorsing..." "Y-yes, my lord, it shall be as you say..." She answered loyally. "My name is Fay, Fay Huso, if it please you..." "Well then, Fay, I do believe it's time we go set my plot in motion, isn't it?" "Indeed, my lord." With that said, the girl quickly headed to a neighboring merchant, a woman looking in about her thirties bearing the cloak of a mountain dweller. after a bit of back and forth, the older woman nodded, agreeing to watch her wares for thieves while she went to finalize things with her new employer. She returned to Erick's side the next instant and the two of them set off for the back area of the building, the area housing the study of the Emporium's management and guards... Call me an Highborn Heathen, will you you little Viper? He thought as she walked by his side. well, let's see this highborn heathen crush your head with the power of coin...and the help of a Cralish merchant...

Alexandra Sisto= Wont stand for any nonsense, Brutally honest, and offers absolutely no apologies for it. I'm liking her character so far.

"Seems like this little lion grew himself some fangs..." Galen remarked at the sight of the battle's conclusion and the shy kid, Shiro apparently, running off the field in an angry huff. He glanced at Mareek as the boy only shook his head at the events below. "Do you see the true meaning of my question now? of why hold back rather than using real force?" "I have a feeling this might've happened regardless of if she hadn't held off in the battle," Mareek said, returning the man's gaze with one of his own. "Holding back or full annihilation, I have a hunch that it honestly would've ended the same in this fight... but I see your point with it..." "And you're thinking about your own match now, are you not?" Mareek gave him a withering glare at that. It kinda irked him that a complete stranger like this Spaniard could read him like it was absolutely nothing in the world at all, though to be entirely honest, he just got irked whenever he felt people might know what he was thinking in general. "What's it to you?" He asked, more than a bit of curtness lacing his voice. "What, you have bets on the matches or something? Afraid you're gonna be in the poor house or something?" "Oh no, certainly nothing like that," Galen said. Though I'm impressed, kid, that's actually not too bad of an idea... bit too late now though... "I simply saw you thinking just now and saw your matchup on the announcements yesterday evening... well it wasn't too hard to simply, how do you say, piece the two together." "Maybe I am, Maybe I'm not..." His younger brother said snidely, his guard now back up as it had been before. The next moment the boy was out of his seat and walking away... "Look, it was nice chatting with you and all, but I've got something to attend to now... so, see ya." Galen said nothing... only watched him leave. **** "So that's what you need my advice on..." Alexandria remarked as her youngest son sat beside her in the relatively uncrowded area of the stands she'd managed to find earlier that morning. She bridged her fingers as she gave the question some thought, something she commonly did whenever giving heavy consideration to an issue. "You want to know whether you should hold back or not against your friend?" "Yeah, that's about it..." Mareek answered. "I'm sure you've probably heard the rumors yourself by now, about whose considered the weakest around here..." "Didn't even have to," his mother said. "I could tell from my first look at her yesterday that the girl wasn't much of a fighter, or at least doesn't seem to be... I wouldn't be surprised if she fails miserably on the battlefield here because of that, but you know Mareek, with everyone else going and pegging the girl to fail here and thinking of her as weak, it's very shitty of you to go jumping on that bandwagon. I thought she was a friend of yours..." "Mom, you just..." He shook his head, sighing in confusion. "Well you kinda just bashed her yourself and now you're lecturing me about not having any faith?" "But of course," She answered without sympathy to his vexed expression. "Yes I did just bash her, but I don't know the girl, I'm just going off what I've seen and the intuition for things like this I've gained over all the years. You on the other hand, you're supposed to be her friend, stand by her through thick and thin like a real friend should, and yet you've gone and basically abandoned her as soon as the wolves started prowling, And another thing, even if you went out there and it proved to be a one sided fight, what makes you think it would humiliate her? If anything, a girl would probably handle defeat better than you or any other male, be mature enough to look past the obvious and see their mistakes and think of how to fix them in the future. I have to say, I'm very disappointed, Mariiku-kun, I thought I had raised you to have more integrity than this meager amount you're showing me." Mars let out an authoritative grunt in agreement with his trainer, sounding like some ancient, angered Japanese shogun shouting out commands as he slammed his iron mit down on the arm rest in mock outrage, looking at Mareek with those piercing eyes... "Yeah, thanks..." He sighed, "Now I feel like complete shit... you're right though, I guess. I shouldn't be one of the ones betting that she's going to be run straight into the ground. Guess a bit of my own arrogance came back up again without me even realizing it...ironic really, I try not to underestimate any opponent, and yet here I am, doing that exact thing to her" "Indeed it has," His mother agreed. "Who knows, maybe the girl will surprise everyone and whip you mercilessly, maybe she has a hidden ace up her sleeve, the possibilities for how it can go are just about endless. And yet you were considering going out there later on and holding you punches? did it ever occur to you that that might come off as a bit sexist to some people?" "Hey, give me at least some credit, mom..." He said, a little angry. "You know that wasn't the reason I was thinking about all this... I just didn't want to humiliate her or anything is all..." He paused, thinking about how his mother had just scolded him for automatically assuming Lana would be humiliated... "And there I go again with the damn arrogance... but you and Mars are right, that would probably just humiliate her in and of itself if she thought I didn't take her seriously... and it would be awkward as hell if she ended up curb stumping my partners out there and I had been holding back our full strength. It would be just like Slade all over again." "Good to see I've been able to point out your wrongs to you," Alexandra said, eyes on the battle field as Jacob's opponent entered into the arena and cockily threw out his chosen partners. She shook her head at the foolish student's reckless abandon before returning her gaze to her son. "So how do you intend to remedy this? It shouldn't be too difficult if you were smart enough not to say anything that you might've been thinking..." "Luckily I was," he said. "I won't hold back, not at all, I'll face her like any other opponent and give her the respect she actually deserves as such. Thanks, mom...." He began to rise from his seat, intending to head back to the stadium's corridors to try to find her and wish her luck in their fight later, but Alexandra grabbed hold of his arm tightly, refusing to let him leave just yet. "And one more thing, my young son," She said simply. "I judge people's strength based on my hunches from all these years, it may seem as though I just go off appearance or other shallow things like that, but I've got real experience behind it, I see body language, how they speak, how they carry themselves, and I take those and construct a power profile out of the information. You on the other hand, are far too young, and lack that life and battle experience that I always use and draw upon when I'm evaluating people. I know you've probably been trying to emulate me here, like you did when you were little as well, but I have to tell you, Mareek... stop trying. This right here is proof that you lack the necessary tools and know how to make it work effectively and accurately." "A-alright..." He stammered, a bit sheepish that she had known precisely how he'd been sizing up opponents so easily... well, the woman was his mother after all. "Alright, I see your point... I'll stop trying to copy you. But what do you suggest I do then?" "Use an easier method," His mother said simply, beginning to release her surprisingly powerful grip; restocking the shelves in the City's PokeMart must've built quite a bit of muscle over the years... "Don't judge a book just by it's cover like I can, but instead judge it based on it's actual contents, Mareek. Observe your opponent, and you will learn all that you need to know from how they act and react to things around them, make note of who they are. But just don't allow yourself to start making an evaluation of them before you see how they actually fight." She released him finally, his arm actually throbbing a bit where her hand had been clasped..."You're free to go now." "I... I'll do that then, thanks..." with that said, he began heading back towards the same stair case he'd used earlier to escape that Kenny guy, taking out Java's ball and speaking to it as he saw Jacob's fight about to begin... "You already know what to do, Java." The porygon2 did, exiting his ball and into Mareek's Dex, beginning to look for a suitable lookout point in order to keep an eye on the fight as his trainer found the stairs again and began his descent back down to the halls...

oh... never noticed that box before. K then so do we need to do it for every post, or is it a one time deal and afterwards it stays the same for every post we make in the whole thread?

I had already turned Signatures off for my own account to reduce site lag, so in every thread I go in, they don't appear for me. but I don't know if that was what you waanted us to do or if you wanted us to hide them under spoilers or something... EDIT: this is what I'm talking about by it: don't know if this was what you were talking about or not, but if not, please offer some instruction as to how exactly to shut of the signature without actually deleting it...

no promises, I got work IRL that needs to be done. we've been over this before. But yes, If I can, I'll try to have it up within that time.

IKR? I'll be trying to get the next one out soonish.

"The malady that had claimed his wife and unborn son did not die with them," Maya continued, turning back to the ocean and leaning on the ship's rail. "for her death was simply the first of a great epidemic, by the time Ryder was home, he found the entire village nearly razed from whatever plague had stolen his loved ones behind his back. Young and old, both strong and weak, it seemed that no one was safe from becoming the next victim... the dying lay lingering in hastily dug pits and some even still in their homes, no one bold enough to dare try to give the body a proper resting place. But Ryder...Ryder was safe from this infection, it seemed. For after being told by his neighbor of how his wife had been the first to die, he was also told that the man's own family lay approaching their final hours as well, as did many others. And even though he still grieved the death of his own kin, Ryder went to see them... and with the power of the White Fire he had been apparently gifted by the sun, he healed every single person in the household, burned away the sickness at it's roots and had each and everyone of them up out of their beds by nightfall that evening." there was a bit of sadness in her cobalt eyes, dark and tumultous as the sea itself it seemed... but she merely shook her head, carrying on. "And then Ryder went to all the other households over the next several weeks... and he healed all those who were still living upon his arrivals. Those who had already been cured by the fires showed no signs of relapse, and soon He and the other denizens of the Village were able to arrange for the retrieval of the dead still in their beds... and he gathered them all in the square and burned them in a funeral blaze. And he did the same thing to all those who had been tossed into pits. People hailed him as hero, a savior even... his name was sung in the streets and his neighbors even advocated for him to become the leader of the community for his actions. And Ryder... Ryder saw the good he had done, saw the lives and the people he had saved... and even though his own wife had fallen to the malady, he knew that his journey had not been for nothing; that his travels had not been in vain. He knew... that he needed to share the power of the White Fires of the sun with the world. And so he chose to take with him seven boys who had been orphaned by the plague, and with them, the Lord Ryder, already called the Phoenix Lord because of his sparking of the funereary pyres marking the rebirth of the village, left on a long and colorful journey with his seven adopted sons. They went to ends of the earth, just as Ryder had done before to discover White Fire, and everywhere they went, Ryder healed the sick and the lame, and during this time he gained another title; The White Wanderer. Eventually his seven sons learned from him and their experiences at his side about the world and about his powers, they learned his ways and his philosophy, and they overtime took them to heart. And then there came the day when Ryder had grown old and withered, finding his body weak and wearied like he had when he had been gifted his power, he had his sons end their journey after some forty years and countless healings. And they carried him home, to the village they had all left behind, Rygale. And it was there that Ryder was hailed one last time as a hero... but Ryder did not stay. Knowing the end to be near for him, he traveled to the mountain peak overlooking the town. And the Scriptures say that he taught to his disciples there everything he knew, made his wisdom theirs to carry on and propagate... and then he died... and then his body disappeared, in it's place, a small fire of pure white that would not die and would not falter. A fire that grew strong and fierce before the eyes of his disciples, but restrained at the same time. And they approached this great fire on the mountain top... and they emerged unharmed, each of them bearing a fire of their own in their hearts... bearing fire burning Platinum." She returned her gaze back at Karn, the sadness that had held her eyes earlier gone now, unreadable... "That was how my order began. Ryder's disciples carried on his ways, to cure the ill and heal the lame whom they come across, to support the common man, to make sure that the White Fire burned strong and bright. They had entered into Ryder's heart blaze, the last thing that was left behind after his death, and they survived it's flames and emerged with forged flames of their own... and so it has been that every servant of Ryder has acquired his power, we enter into his Heart Blaze atop the mountain's peak, if we are worthy, we emerge unharmed bearing his powers as our own, if we are not though..." She shook her head again, looking back to the sea. "Let's just leave it at this; I myself saw several die within the mountain's blaze when me and Freyl were sent inside, and freyl saw countless more be rendered to nothing by ash, the Fires lashing out at the vice in their souls and destroying them from within when it entered their hearts. We are all connected to it, Ryder's fire, for a small shard of his Heart Blaze is what gives life to our Heart Blazes, we are all countless branches of a massive tree, connected by Ryder's spirit itself. When it is strong, we are all strong... but when it weakens, then we all weaken. This eclipse was the reason Me and my brother were sent on our mission; to find an end to it, to unblock the sun and make Ryder's fire strong again... to make us all strong again."

I think EQ around mid 30's to be alright... considering we're all already moving towards more powerful moves in the RP as it is, I don't think it'll be too much of a problem in and off itself. considering the fact that Acrobatics has a base power of basically 110 here and a Max strength Return(which is the degree Erce's is, just to make it clear) is about 102 base power

"Well, so much for that idea..." Ethic said as the lighting suddenly changed to a vibrant red all around them and the announcements boomed overheard. The moment Gestas himself came on over the mic, he could immediately tell what he meant... all the other corridors branching off from the hall he and the girl were walking in were nowhere to be found now. Behind them was nothing more than an empty wall. The only way to go...was forward. "Come on, Enya..." he sighed, beginning to walk again- quickly adding to entice her into getting moving as well, "I'm sure Rose will probably be there too..."

No, while yes, I took Enyo and turned into one of my NPCs, I also transferred her out of the squad shortly afterwards back in middlish part of chapter 2 at Supernovae's suggestion that she possibly be made into a recurring character instead of a prominent one like surge or Ray. Lionel on the other hand, is still on the team. There are 10 soldiers on the team, counting the commander, Surge, the NPC of Lionel, and my own PC Erick.

Unfortunately, I'm afraid I'm not accepting any new people in the story at this time; There's simply no way to have a new member to the team just come in at this point, given that there is a set limit for the maximum number of soldiers in a single Squad and pretty much all those all those are currently filled for Spark Alpha. Though, at the moment, we do have one NPC who is on the team who was once a Player Character before their creator resigned from the story... I might be able to kill him off sometime in the far future and open that slot backup, but for the sake of the story's integrity, I'm not going to try to rush a moment deserving such sensitivity out of respect, if it comes, but instead wait to see if players decisions branch to a place where that type of opportunity to be rid of him realistically arises during combat in one of the war fronts. So, a slot might be open eventually, but I can't make any concrete promises about it. Sorry...

Murdoc As he moved along the circular stone walkway spanning all around the building's circumference towards one of the notches in the wall serving as Stalls for various merchants, each complete with a complimentary counter top, table, what have you, Matrim noticed a semi-familiar face already haggling with the Stall owner. Their conversation was loud, heated even, and he could hear every word they spoke as he stood looking on. "So you're just going to keep up this ridiculousness?" The haggler demanded. From both the anger and the annoyance in his voice, it had to be none other than Erick. "Look, I was told that store owners were instructed to relinquish supplies and equipment without charge to those who spoke that phrase; You aren't from this city, so fine, I can see how it is you can justify that it doesn't apply to you-" "You are damn that it doesn't apply to me, boy!" "But you could at least set a reasonable price, damn it! I'm not paying something as outrageous as 5,000 Myta for a few pieces of ridding gear that would I could go to a Leather Worker right now and personally commission for less than a fraction of that!" "I would, but it's my philosophy to charge an arm and a leg to wealthy noble swine like yourself. Show you the plight of the poor man for once in your Highborn lives!" "What the hell are you talking about? I've no blood of any noble house from anywhere on this continent or any other! The stuff in my veins are probably even more common than yours are!" "My mother never raised any fools, that symbol on your hand is proof enough of your damn status; A Black, Caligraphic Hawk in flight, with a cresent at it's back- you're a marked man: Eric Vonters, the first and the lone member of the House Vonters of Crale, patented two years ago after the crisis with the Princess Elise! I've been to Crale, I've seen the capitol, I know who you are... Now if you aren't going to pay the damn price I set, get the fuck out of my stall and move on, highborn heathen!" There was a long silence as the Highway man watched... Eric and the Merchant, an ironically plump little man of Dirosi descent bedecked in jeweled rings on either hands and fine robes embroidered with intricate design spun by desert nomads, stared at each other. Eric's fingers began to slowly crawl to his side; to the sheath for his Sycthes blade, looking more like a curved sword in it's scabbard as it hung from the leather on his belt. But instead of the weapon, Erick drew out a small sack of burlap, jingling with coin... "What number is this stall?" He asked cryptically. "Sixty-five," The Merchant answered. "What is it to you though?" "Just curious..." Eric said, turning on his heels and walking away. Only then did he notice Matrim there. "I wouldn't waste my time with this one if I were you; Don't know how much of that back and forth you saw, but I'll assume it was enough to know our little... dispute here. I'm finding someone whose actually reasonable enough to deal bussiness without hurling insults like a sick infant hurls it's mother's milk," He walked past him, out towards the center of the completely walless center of the building, a circular area serving as a brazaar of sorts, merchants dressed in all type of clothes from all places in the land tending small stands. Little did Matrim know what Erick truly intended to do there though... "You're free to come with me if you want, or you can try to deal with this fat Dirosi man, it's your decision."

Deric looked at Gideon for a moment, silent... then he turned his gaze back to the headless corpse of his once old friend on the ground. The wind whistled one last time. His face was unreadable... https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G-gwzUbcuGo "Right you are," He said finally, his voice completely unrecognizable from before, smoother, less solemn, holding a playful edge even. He looked up at Leonidas, eyes gleaming with a certain type of charisma "We have a job to do, forbidden and ancient text to find, and a world to save. If we waste time sitting around on our arses, then all their deaths will have been for nothing... And countless innocent people will join them. I intend to stop that before it happens." "Say hello to Lord Arthur," Leonidas remarked. "Hero of the second great crisis, Spectral Lord, Slayer of Sorcerers far and wide, and the warrior who stopped Sitanas from escaping his prison centuries after I put him there..."