Fandom Gladius: A Multi-Fandom RP (Open and Accepting)

[Rysesaka]

Carl Johnson
Love of the Apocalypse, The Walkway
Tavern of Worlds, Free Planets, Gladius-II

"Fo'sho." CJ smiled.

As the Krogan went out, he would hear a wind thump and also a conversation where he can hear a female voice. CJ was excited however judging by the tone of the voice - it seems that this woman isn't ready to meet CJ yet. Since CJ is curious, he decides to peek to see the female who's complaining that she doesn't have time for this. Upon seeing the woman, CJ was shocked that the skin is blue and CJ still assumes that he is in a dream since he also can't believe that there is a talking reptile and now a blue-skinned alien with a female voice.

"What the fuck is this shi', man.." He muttered to himself.

CJ decides to sneak out of the interview room by crouching. He hoped that he won't get caught by the two female individuals.

The Mad Queen

Alfred Pennyworth
The Spa, Bliss
Free Planets, Gladius-II

"Bliss?" Alfred is confused when the android began to mention about dimension and stuff, the android also mentioned that Bliss is far by the safest world and the most relaxing. He entered after the android went in.

"I'm sorry but I'm confused. So, I'm on another planet? Where's Earth?" Alfred scratches his head as he waits for the android to respond.

Jim Gordon
En-route to LexCorp Tower
New Metropolis, The Badlands, Gladius-IV

"We have no choice but to trust them. Even I feel so unfamiliar to my hometown." Jim replied as he glanced at Vasu before looking back at the suited woman.

"I hope I can trust you, miss."

Specialist

 

[The Mad Queen]

Jolie Baptiste: New Metropolis, The Badlands (Gladius-IV)​

"Forth chance." The Changeling muttered once more
"How many chances do I..." Jolie paused for the Changeling glared directly into her eyes "Third chance."

Placing the Changeling in a fireman's hold, Jolie jumped back up and set her against one of the walls where the woman continued to stare at the two, her eyes darting from one to the other.
"Third chance. Forth chance. Third chance. Forth chance."

"Zut (damn)." The Vampire shook her head "My best guess is she's been in Arcadia for quite some time. I don't think there's a lot either of us could do for her, at least not here."

"Haven's Spear might be able to put the pieces back together."
At the mention of the city, the Changeling shot up
"The tipped city will burn."

darkred
-OPEN TO INTERACTION-

Venkman: The Western Graveyard, The Badlands (Gladius-IV)​

The glow of the spear only got more intense, basking the area in it's light. Venkman took a few steps back, shielding his eyes and was almost struck by a ray of light that emitted from the spear. A second ray was fired towards him but the Mage dived to the ground while it flew over his head. Before a third ray could strike him, he snapped his fingers and transported himself into the Twilight.

Emerging next to the buggy, he frantically looked around and noticed Namorae fleeing, carrying a limp body on her back.
"Get back on the bike! We're leaving!"

Eliasdagood
-OPEN FOR INTERACTION-

Karla: Cortova's ship, The Badlands (Gladius-IV)​

"Roots?" Karla chuckled "No, so much more than that. I'm not growing a garden."
She stood up and stretched out her arms, her yellow eyes gazing onto the planet below with intent.
"I'm building a kingdom."
"Oh, here we go..."
"From my knowledge..."
"Limited knowledge."
"Gladius is a twisted and cruel place. This system is full of slavers, rapists and insurance salesmen. I want to cut off a piece of that planet and make a kingdom out of it where none of that shit flies. An island protected by an armada of ships who sail across the globe raiding bastards who deserve to have all their loot grabbed."

"This job, these rats. It's the first step 'a many."

Eliasdagood GearBlade654
-OPEN TO INTERACTION-

Harley Quinn: En-Route to New Metropolis (Gladius-IV)
​

​

"He had it comin'." Harleen admitted "Superman tasked him with killin' a friend 'a mine but someone else got to 'im first."
"Nightwig, well fake Nightwig. This pipsqueak named Damien had a stick up his ass took up the mantle 'cause 'a some unresolved guilt."

She glanced away from Victor "I liked the old Nightwig. Even though I tried to blow 'im up a few times he was always so nice, crackin' a joke or two during our fights."
"Damien killed him. By accident. Later he killed the other you, the crappy one when he killed Alfred. This ex British army guy who made really good tea. Sure he called me a dreadful woman sometimes but back then it wasn't like I didn't deserve it."

Harleen smiled as she petted the head of Bud.
"We're descending on New Metropolis now. Make sure you're all strapped in. I don't want to have to clean your brains off of my floor."

The ship's interior shook violently as it entered the atmosphere, prompting Harleen to grab both Bud and Lou to make sure they didn't fly forwards and strike the controls.
"Hold on babies!"

Rysesaka

Jay: The Walkway, The Tavern of Worlds, Gladius II​

Jay squeezed the ridge of her nose while Karen continued to sell her on what the shop did.
"A relationship is just an expensive way to have a person hate your guts."
"Oh come now, you can't believe that. There truly is someone for everyone."

The Asari folded her arms
"Like the human you have in the back?"
"Who?"
"The one trying to hide."

She turned towards the counter "You can come out now. Your infiltration skills need work."

Rysesaka
-OPEN TO INTERACTION-

Alfred Pennyworth
The Spa, Bliss
Free Planets, Gladius-II

"Bliss?" Alfred is confused when the android began to mention about dimension and stuff, the android also mentioned that Bliss is far by the safest world and the most relaxing. He entered after the android went in.

"I'm sorry but I'm confused. So, I'm on another planet? Where's Earth?" Alfred scratches his head as he waits for the android to respond.

The android's smile faded when Earth was mentioned.
"Oh my. You honestly don't know what's happened, do you? Why Bliss exists, what happened to Earth...Give me a moment to process this."
He stopped in his tracks, his expression a blank canvass
"Would you like a beverage. You might require something to calm your nerves given this rather disturbing information."

 

[darkred]

Forth chance." The Changeling muttered once more
"How many chances do I..." Jolie paused for the Changeling glared directly into her eyes "Third chance."

Placing the Changeling in a fireman's hold, Jolie jumped back up and set her against one of the walls where the woman continued to stare at the two, her eyes darting from one to the other.
"Third chance. Forth chance. Third chance. Forth chance."

"Zut (damn)." The Vampire shook her head "My best guess is she's been in Arcadia for quite some time. I don't think there's a lot either of us could do for her, at least not here."

"Haven's Spear might be able to put the pieces back together."
At the mention of the city, the Changeling shot up
"The tipped city will burn."

Marcus Wright
New Metropolis
Somewhere in Arklym Asylum
Open for Interaction

Marcus growled "Wait, you are telling us that the city is going to burn anyway? There's no way we can save that many people on our own."

The Mad Queen​

 

[Eliasdagood]

Namorae: The Western Graveyard, The Badlands
Namorae looks back at Venkman, her eyes wide, and runs back toward him to get on the bike, squishing the unconscious man between them. “All for leaving, let’s move!” She really hates this kind of trap. She’s seen it used by tyrants and cruel creatures to eliminate the kind of people who would contest them. It is, unfortunately, very effective.
The Mad Queen

Cortova: Her Ship, The Badlands
Cortova hums softly, watching Karla. “Well, I hope you succeed. I’m not really the type to lead something like that, but if you ever need a job done, I’ll probably be interested.” She says. It’s certainly an interesting thought. Maybe she’d even decide to make a home base in that kind of country. She’s starting to feel a bit… nostalgic, maybe? She hasn’t built much of a network since she came to this new world. She misses having those bonds. Definitely not lonely. That would be ridiculous for a self sufficient, powerful woman like herself.
GearBlade654

 

[The Mad Queen]

Jolie Baptiste: New Metropolis, The Badlands (Gladius-IV)​

"The tipped city isn't New Metropolis, Marcus." Jolie stepped in front of the half-Terminator "It's Haven's spear."
"What about New Metropolis?"
"Green fog will envelop the ivory towers. The walls will crumble."

It was hardly the first time Jolie had met a being that could predict the future, or at least possible future events. She did know one thing from experience though: it wasn't set in stone.
"Allow me to get some things out of the way."
She had to fill him in. Changelings, Arcadia, Mages. All of it.

"From my universe I'm not the only supernatural being. Vampires aren't alone. Werewolves, Mages, Changelings and...So much more."
She pointed at the woman "She's a Changeling. A human being taken to a dimension called Arcadia and tortured by Godly beings who re-shape them. This gives them abilities. Her Keeper obviously gave her some kind of clairvoyance but shattered her psyche."

She gazed back into the woman's eyes, her own full of sadness.
"The life of a Changeling, one who manages to escape from Arcadia is one on the run. The Keepers replace them with exact copies, even with the same memories. And they will kill to get them back."

"I don't envy them, and I've been trying to help them for years."

darkred
-OPEN TO INTERACTION-

Venkman: The Western Graveyard, The Badlands (Gladius-IV)​

Venkman jumped onto his bike, starting the engine and pulling away the moment Namorae was on the back of it. Two more blue beams of light shot towards them, with a third just missing the bike as it drove through a Twilight gate.
Thankfully, the sleeper was unconscious. The last thing Venkman wanted to deal with was a paradox.

He glanced back at the injured man, seeing that he was still alive.
"Are you okay?" He asked Namorae

Eliasdagood
-OPEN FOR INTERACTION-

Alva Bòideach: The Citadel Presidium (Gladius-I)​

Alva followed, glancing back as Harold blocked their path.
"He should be dead by now."
"Oliver's stronger than you give him credit for." Alva whispered "He'll be fine."
She took great care to speak under her breath. Outside of Sheeva, the group that surrounded her were strangers. Willy reminded her of one too many Bump missions so that left Samus and her AI companion as the people she could trust. She'd keep her eyes on Willy for now as it wasn't like every clown was a murderous psychopath or a demonic entity.
She told herself she could trust Torgo too, even if the Automated American believed her to be mentally inept.

Jogging into the treatment facility, she stopped in her tracks at the sight of creatures working on the equipment.

"We're not here to hurt you, we're just..."
The creatures paid absolutely no attention to the group, simply continuing with their work.

Specialist @Shining Wizard DrBones @Alpha007
-OPEN FOR INTERACTION-

Jim Gordon
En-route to LexCorp Tower
New Metropolis, The Badlands, Gladius-IV

"We have no choice but to trust them. Even I feel so unfamiliar to my hometown." Jim replied as he glanced at Vasu before looking back at the suited woman.

"I hope I can trust you, miss."

Specialist

"I hope Mr Luthor can trust you too." She nodded
The vehicle closed in on a tower as it flew deeper and deeper into the safe-zone, stopping on a floor half-way up the building where a garage opened and the car pulled in.

"This entire tower is a fortress. I'm following Mr Luthor's orders but should you two try to cause him any harm, you will not leave this place alive. Am I clear?"
Rysesaka Specialist

 

[darkred]

e tipped city isn't New Metropolis, Marcus." Jolie stepped in front of the half-Terminator "It's Haven's spear."

"What about New Metropolis?"
"Green fog will envelop the ivory towers. The walls will crumble."

It was hardly the first time Jolie had met a being that could predict the future, or at least possible future events. She did know one thing from experience though: it wasn't set in stone.
"Allow me to get some things out of the way."
She had to fill him in. Changelings, Arcadia, Mages. All of it.

"From my universe I'm not the only supernatural being. Vampires aren't alone. Werewolves, Mages, Changelings and...So much more."
She pointed at the woman "She's a Changeling. A human being taken to a dimension called Arcadia and tortured by Godly beings who re-shape them. This gives them abilities. Her Keeper obviously gave her some kind of clairvoyance but shattered her psyche."

She gazed back into the woman's eyes, her own full of sadness.
"The life of a Changeling, one who manages to escape from Arcadia is one on the run. The Keepers replace them with exact copies, even with the same memories. And they will kill to get them back."

"I don't envy them, and I've been trying to help them for years."

Marcus Wright
New Metropolis
Somewhere in Arklym Asylum
Open for Interaction

"Now that's something you don't see every day, a being that can predict the future. In a way, Marcus could at least sympathize with the Changeling's pain. She may have been ripped apart from the inside, but there were some similarities to what Marcus had to go through vs what the Changeling's pain.

The half terminator looked softly at the Changeling "Perhaps someday you'll get revenge on your keepers."

Marcus turned to Jolie, "Is Haven's Spear going to be important in the mid-future to us?"

The Mad Queen ​

 

[Eliasdagood]

Namorae: The Western Graveyard, The Badlands
Namorae holds the man as stable as she can while still keeping her own grip on Venkman. “I’m fine, it’s this one I’m worried about.” She says, looking at the injured man. “Best case scenario, he was attacked, and his body temporarily used as a puppet. Worst case, he’s possessed or dominated.” It was a risk bringing him along, she knows that. He could be a spy, or attack them as soon as he wakes. She has to figure out what to do about him.
The Mad Queen

 

[The Mad Queen]

Jolie Baptiste: New Metropolis, The Badlands (Gladius-IV)​

"You can't kill the True Fea. At least I don't think any of us can. Even if you managed to kill one they'd return to Arcadia and reconstruct themselves." Jolie explained, grimly "A...Friend of mine managed to trap one and it killed itself to escape."
If the Keeper Jolie had met in The Hedge wanted this Changeling woman back, then why task her with bringing her to one of the most secure places on the planet? It just didn't make any sense to her.

"Haven's Spear is where I was asked to bring her. I never made a deal with the Fea."
Deal or not, these creatures were incredibly tricky. She'd managed to stay alive by avoiding them completely. Never fighting one on one, only keeping herself and whatever Changeling she was escorting moving.

Was Marcus in danger? The Keepers preferred humans but it wasn't above them to snatch Wolfbloods and Sleepwalkers. Being half-human made him a target.

"I'm sorry Marcus. I've put you in terrible danger."

darkred
-OPEN TO INTERACTION-

Venkman: The Western Graveyard, The Badlands (Gladius-IV)​

Stronger ghosts could posses people, Venkman had seen it before but he would have seen it in the man, right? He told himself that there was no way he could have missed something like that. Too much experience under his belt, and he was a Master of Death after all. Right?
Perhaps he was caught up with the day's events, or maybe there was something else going on.

A Spirit. They possessed people and could have grown out of control if there were no Werewolves in the graveyard. That had to be it.
"We'll keep going for a bit but then I'll need to take us out of the Twilight. If he wakes up I'm going to have the shit kicked out of me."

He'd always hated paradoxes.

Eliasdagood
-OPEN FOR INTERACTION-

 

[darkred]

"You can't kill the True Fea. At least I don't think any of us can. Even if you managed to kill one they'd return to Arcadia and reconstruct themselves." Jolie explained, grimly "A...Friend of mine managed to trap one and it killed itself to escape."
If the Keeper Jolie had met in The Hedge wanted this Changeling woman back, then why task her with bringing her to one of the most secure places on the planet? It just didn't make any sense to her.

"Haven's Spear is where I was asked to bring her. I never made a deal with the Fea."
Deal or not, these creatures were incredibly tricky. She'd managed to stay alive by avoiding them completely. Never fighting one on one, only keeping herself and whatever Changeling she was escorting moving.

Was Marcus in danger? The Keepers preferred humans but it wasn't above them to snatch Wolfbloods and Sleepwalkers. Being half-human made him a target.

"I'm sorry Marcus. I've put you in terrible danger."

Marcus Wright
New Metropolis
Somewhere in Arklym Asylum- With Jolie, and a Changeling
Open for Interaction

"So just looking like a human puts me in danger of coming with you guys in case this "Keeper" comes to us, instead of us to them?

Marcus frowned "So if a Keeper can't be defeated, how am I supposed to keep them from coming and finding me? Everywhere he went, danger seemed to follow him. "So your friend is now like a tracking signal to find us?"

Marcus didn't like feeling like he was in danger but it was pretty common these days.

He looked back "Does that mean I should go or stay with you two?"

The Mad Queen

​

 

[Specialist]

Samus-007/Gladius I: The Presidium
[Interacting with: The Mad Queen , DrBones ; Open to Interaction]
​

Finally back topside, Samus was perplexed. Didn't they just come through the same spot? The Zeons were gone, and she soon found herself moving along with her group before intersecting paths with some sort of quadruped mantis creature. Every nerve in her body screamed to open fire, yet she kept herself composed. Hoping to avoid another chance encounter, she piped up. "We need directions."

Vasu 'Koromai/Gladius IV: The Badlands; New Metropolis;
[Interacting with: The Mad Queen , Rysesaka ]​

Vasu huffed. He was not afraid of death, as long as his honor was preserved. As the flying car continued its journey, and the goliath tower came into view, he began to wonder how Humans created such towering spires. He looked back to the woman. "If this 'Luther' is amicable, I will respect his diplomacy. I hope you know what you're doing, Human."

 

[Eliasdagood]

Namorae: The Western Graveyard, The Badlands
Namorae nods. “Right. Need to get him bandaged properly as well.” She mutters. She is tired, and hungry, but if he says they must keep moving, she will trust his judgement. “I am worried that they placed the trap right along our route, and knew our business. Should we be worried about an enemy diviner?” She asks, trying to cover all of the bases.
The Mad Queen

 

[GearBlade654]

Corneilles
The bounty hunter audibly chuckled on Karla's words.
"Raiding the bad, huh?"
Corneilles folded his arms, and nodded.
"Alright, I hear what you've got in mind. If you ever need someone taken out-a slaver leader or something, call me over."
"Well, somehow."
The Mad Queen (sorry, little bit out of it)

 

[The Mad Queen]

Jolie Baptiste: New Metropolis, The Badlands (Gladius-IV)​

"Your soul is human, that's the thing that matters to them most. Skynet may have altered you, but that might not stop a True Fea from targeting you." Jolie explained rather grimly "But, what was done to you, although awful might keep you off their radar."

"The friend I mentioned, the crazy connard (bastard) that managed to trap one? He was paranoid for a month, nearly considered skipping the country but...The Fea never came for him or anyone else present when it was tossed into the dimension. They don't hold grudges, Marcus. We're beneath them so it's rare for something to be personal."

She gestured back to the woman "That depends on who's looking for her. Crane seemed to be working with some powerful people, but I don't think they were Fea. That's not their style."

darkred
-OPEN TO INTERACTION-

Venkman: The Western Graveyard, The Badlands (Gladius-IV)​

"Like a crazed Priest?" Venkman asked "I mean, at this point I'm preparing myself for anything."
He glanced over at the man, seeing that he was starting to stir "Oh no."
"Can you do anything to keep him asleep? We need to keep moving."

He was glad to see that the man was okay but the threat of a paradox loomed over the Mage's head.

Eliasdagood
-OPEN FOR INTERACTION-

Alva Bòideach: The Citadel Presidium (Gladius-I)​

One of Keepers walked up to Samus, glared at her and then went back to it's station as if the Spartan had said nothing at all. Alva approached next
"Excuse me, we're a little lost."
Yet again, there was nothing.

"Allow me to speak to these beings. They will..."
"Not going to happen." Alva whispered under her breath.
She walked over to one of the Keepers, tapping it on the shoulder.
"Please. Excuse me. We really need help. We're lost and..."
She went ignored.

"Well, we're just going to have to find our own way out." Alva shrugged. There was another door in the room, probably leading closer to the surface and she started to walk towards it, her hands by her side and one fist clenched, holding a small handful of seeds. As she was meerly a few feet away from it an alarm blared inside of the water treatment plant and red flashing lights filled the room.
"Oh, come on. What now?" Alva just wanted this day to end.

Had the Zeons found them? Had Harold decided to follow them? She spun around at the sound of a bulkhead covered the door they had come through and watched as an identical bulkhead started to descend upon the only other door in the room. Their only other way out

"Double time, let's move it!" She shouted, bolting for the door.

Specialist DrBones @Alpha007
-OPEN FOR INTERACTION-

Karla: Cortova's ship, The Badlands (Gladius-IV)​

The bounty hunter was a man of few words and even fewer of those words went into Karla's head, but his recent proposal caused her smile to grow and her eyes to gleam. Her tail stood on end and she sauntered towards him.
"So..."
"Corneilles"
"Corneilles. Would you be interested in joining my crew? I'm going to be setting it up once I get paid for a bit of pest control with these rats." She gave him a sly grin "The ship probably won't be able to fly in space, but she'll fly alright."

Gunther, Richard, Gino and now Corneilles. It was early days, but her new crew was growing. If she kept it up they would be a force to truly be reckoned with. That was the dream, after all.
She'd have to see what he could do in combat first. It wasn't like she accepted everyone.

No name yet, but she'd think of one once a ship caught her eye. Wrapping an arm around the bounty hunter's shoulder she used her free hand to point to the planet below.
"Going from coast to coast. Raiding bad people, freeing slaves and taking a ton of loot for our troubles. Eventually we'll have an island to call ours."
She glanced into his eyes "What do you think? Sound fun?"

Eliasdagood GearBlade654
-OPEN TO INTERACTION-

 

[GearBlade654]

Corneilles
The bounty hunter nodded again as he drew his axe, inspected it, and put it away.
"Well, my employer is dead. I don't see why not."
"I like the way you think. I've killed plenty of bandits in my time, but I'm not exactly acquainted with the technology here. What I do have at my disposal, though..."
Corneilles audibly chuckled again.
"Oh, you'd be surprised. I'll take you on your deal."
The Mad Queen

 

[Freshet]

Giuseppe Francesco Fortunino Verdi: Goodneighbor, Badlands (Gladius IV)​

​

"I didn't do any killings you stupid, ignorant and pitiful Tanned German!" Verdi barked out towards Preston, as her mind wandered to what knowledge the Tanned German did and didn't possess, while doing a dramatically hair flip. Even in shackles it was plainly obvious that the refraction of light formed in just a way as to enhance Verdi's face with a sprinkling of white glimmers. Hell, it was even possible that time itself slowed down to capture that shot; though whether or not that was due to the dramatics of Verdi's stunt, the strange logic behind her even more tattered normally skimpy attire forcing itself, or perhaps a glitter plague which was known to shut down areas was not known. Well the third option was proven false by the fact that after the hair was flipped by the woman, it stopped, but the other two were still a mystery.

Verdi cocked her head towards the zombie as she cleared her throat. "Ahem." Craning her neck back she looked behind her, while popping her hips and buttocks towards the side while moving her arms to be visible. She was still bound by the rope. "Helllooo? Ropes? Look you already got my guitar and I need it back for my musical career. You guys know bail right? The process of bail - it means that I can walk and talk and strut my stuff around waiting for a court-date. Sooo considering you already essentially have the payment for it you could maybe find it in your teensy, tiny, shriveled, blackened hearts to UNTIE ME!?! You know it is cruel and inhumane and against loads of stuff to keep shackles on indefinitely right!?" This was followed by a distinctive pout, furrowed brow and a few loud stomps.

"As per bail, I agree not to run and I'll stick into the town and head to trial in a timely fashion. Rock n Rollah's pretty promise." This was emphasized by a waggling of her pinky alongside another glower. "So come on. Untie me already! Then when I win at trial and get my stuff back after then." This was followed by a distinctive glance towards Sibyl as if she was explaining that yes she was getting her guitar back to the robot.

"I will try my damnedest to not be extra super smug at how wrong you Germans were." This was a complete and utter fabrication designed simply to manipulate the small mind of the Germanic peoples. While Verdi did not feel this tactic would work on the Germans, as they had no minds to fool, it would at least hopefully make sure the Spaniard would force them to do the deed.

Standing dramatically, still in the suggestive position, she took a few struts towards Messier, lowered her head and whispered conspiratorially. "OkayokaythatisabadsignbutI'mintoodeeptofindapracticingattorney. Look, when we get in there I can give you some advice beyond that general premise you got from the Pirate. I'm not an expert, but I've binged a fair amount programs like Law and Order, things of that nature on tour. I don't remember a whole lot, besides individuals who would be really great to 'party down with' if you catch my drift - but it's based on real stories so the stuff on television has to be like the real thing."

Raising her head back up she began waggling her arms and body around, much like how she did before, to emphasize that these people needed to do their damn job and free Verdi from these bindings.

Ennuis The Mad Queen GrieveWriter DrBones

 

[Eliasdagood]

Namorae: The Western Graveyard, The Badlands
Namorae is about to answer about the mad priest question when Venkman says the man can’t wake here. She grimaces, gripping the bike tighter with her legs, and holding the man tighter, striking hard with one elbow to render him unconscious. “He is already injured, so I should use that sparingly. He needs further care, not brain damage.” She warns. “And I meant a caster using divination such as scrying.”
The Mad Queen

Cortova: Her Ship, The Badlands
Cortova smiles, listening to them, and inputting the coordinates for their destination into the navigation computer. “Right. This’ll take a bit, but I’ve told him to expect us.” She says to them, happy to have them here.
GearBlade654

 

[The Mad Queen]

Venkman: Outskirts of the Western Graveyard, The Badlands (Gladius-IV)​

Venkman held his tongue, and nodded as he pushed the bike even further. After five minutes of solid driving at it's max speed, he snapped his fingers and opened a gate to the outside.
He just hoped that, if they were followed he'd at least bought them some time.
"Should be safe. For now." He turned off the bike's engine and stepped off.

He wasn't that kind of doctor, but he was going to try at least. Walking to the man's side he rested a hand on his shoulder and gently shook him. He shot up, staring awake.
"Wha-"
"It's okay. You're safe now. Can you tell us what happened?" He kept his hand on the man's shoulder, speaking softly.
"They-" He stopped himself "Where am I?"

Eliasdagood
-OPEN FOR INTERACTION-

Karla: Cortova's ship, En-Route to ETC HQ, The Badlands (Gladius-IV)​

"Hey, neither am I." Karla gave a heavy shrug, and displayed one of her flintlocks to the bounty hunter. She traced her hand along it's pattern, that of a dragon who's mouth met the barrel.
"And this is just for style and occasional use. I can throw fire around." She grinned
"She sort of over does it." Richard added
"Karla."
"Hmm? Oh right, are we going to be landing soon?" She asked the Captain "Good."

As the ship re-entered orbit, it descended upon a gargantuan locomotive in the desert.

The sides of it opened, revealing smaller locomotives that shot out into the desert like bullets being shot from a gun.
"Do you read me?" A voice spoke. The ship was being hailed by the locomotive "What is it you wanted to talk about?"

Eliasdagood GearBlade654
-OPEN TO INTERACTION-

Goodneighbor, Badlands (Gladius IV)​

"Her guitar is her weapon." Preston reiterated "Whatever you do, you can't give it back to her. More people could get hurt, or worse. If she attacked Diamond City, then who's to say she won't attack your people either?"
Hancock groaned and gestured for two guards to release the musician, unbinding her shackles.
"Look kid. I can't give you back your guitar." He shook his head "Not until you can prove it's not dangerous. So go see the sights, have a drink maybe. Just don't go causing trouble."

He glanced over at Preston "That goes for you too. Stay out of each other's way and meet back at city hall in half an hour, or I'll have to send someone to come and find you."
His gaze went back towards Verdi "You're on bail and just so ya know, there's guards at every exit. Don't run. You're here to prove your innocence after all so it wouldn't look good on you."

"Now, is there anything else?"
"No." Preston replied "I'm good."

With that, the Minuteman walked off into the the town, only glancing back once at the group he would have to speak out against. Rather than anger, he simply had a glum look in his eyes as he wondered how things had gone so wrong. Shaking his head, he turned away once more without a single word.

Freshet Ennuis GrieveWriter
-OPEN TO INTERACTION-

Steve Rodgers: Brymor Crossing, Sword Coast North (Certh, Gladius-II)​

Continuing to apply pressure on the wound, Steve carried the Nameless One over to the doctor's. The Elven man was in the middle of treating a patient, one of the civilians brought up earlier.
"Ah. What happened to this one?"
"Stab wound."
"Set him down. Keep the pressure up."

Rodgers watched as the doctor applied his gloved hands to the patient and as they glowed a golden colour, her wounds started to close up. It had to be some kind of nanotechnology, he thought but why did this alien planet seem somehow less advanced than Earth? No telephones, cars or planes yet they still had access to healing nanobots that could close a wound, not even leaving a scar as they did their handiwork.

"Do you know if he was poisoned?" The Elven man asked
He couldn't be sure. Between trying to rescue the captives and being kicked into the dirt by the EMT Steve knew it was possible he could have missed something. Before he could get a word out the Elven man was fixed on the Nameless One.
"Tell me. Did you get a good look at his blade? He asked

Donder172 FistOfTheBorkStar zontar Freshet
-OPEN FOR INTERACTION-

 

[zontar]

• Black Star District Commercials
• BSD plot
• Genjuro
• Another Rider ???

• 
  IT'S EVERYBODY'S KAIJU CORNER!
  
  A peppy looking Oni girl with bright blue skin and horns jumped and waved to the camera, standing on a large metal catwalk.
  
  "Hiiii boys and girls! It's Kaiser Julie here, and it's time to meet one of the kaiju here at the Monster Island nature preserve! Today's monster is..."
  
  A tremendous creature rose up behind her, roaring for the camera.
  
  "Rosie, the Red King! Red King is a type of prehistoric kaiju native to temperate worlds with low background radiation and varied seasons, like Earth or Boris. The height of an adult ranges from 35 meters to a whopping 65, and they weigh over twenty thousand tons! Red King are territorial when mating, but usually peaceful- they eat rocks and soil, after all! But when they're forced to fight..."
  
  The screen pulled up another set of images of the titanic beast, this time locked in physical combat with other similarly sized creatures, and curiously looking around a city, dwarfing most of the buildings.
  
  "They don't have the sort of fire breathing organs you find in other Dino-type Kaiju like Gomess, Astron, Jirass, or Godzilla! So Red King have learned to fight using their bare hands and feet! In fact, there's even a Kaiju Martial Arts style originating in the Boris monasteries based on them! Oh! But that's all the time we have! But Rosie and I will be at the Monster Island Preserve waiting for you!"
  
  The small girl waved happily at the camera, giving a friendly smile. The bright red monster behind her raised a titanic arm and did its best to emulate the hostess before leaning down so she could pet its head.
  
  "Come and see us sometime!"
  
  ----
  
  GENM bids you: Receive the blessings of God!
  The scene opened on a dark stone hallway, a first person shot. As the camera panned down, the clanking of armor could be heard. At the distant end of the tunnel, a sword sat obscured in the darkness, driven into a toppled pillar.
  
  Every generation has its legends. The tales that define storytelling for them. The heroes they look up to...
  
  Torches began lighting the hallway, as the figure raised up an arm clad in cyan plate mail to shield his eyes. A monstrous wizard in a white robe floated above the altar at the end of the hallway, laughing maniacally.
  
  And the villains they fight.
  
  The knight charged, ducking and rolling under spell after spell before he reached the altar, grabbing the rusted sword by the hilt as light flooded the screen and triumphant music swelled. Screenshots and gameplay of a JRPG for a pixel-based portable system followed en masse, slowly swirling into a vortex before three dimensional versions of the same footage appeared.
  
  AFTER TEN LONG YEARS, THE CLASSIC ROLEPLAYING GAME THAT REDEFINED THE GENRE IS ONCE MORE AVAILABLE FROM GENM CORP! TRAVEL THE WORLD! SEEK YOUR ADVENTURE! THIS IS TADDLE QUEST: REMASTERED! Battle against the hordes of the dark wizard Aranbura in classic 16-bit style or new 3d graphics! Now available for the Gamer Driver, and for the first time, try the Taddle Quest Prototype. Additional bonus dungeons available in 3D mode.
  
  Genm Corp: Your move, Squeenix.
  
  
• 
  In a corner office in the Zangyack HQ, Smith paced nervously, smoking a cigarette. There was already a sizeable buildup in the ashtray on the desk. Johnson calmly poured a glass of whiskey.
  
  "Alright. Alright. He won't have a Social ID Number. Fuck, he needs one to buy anything..."
  
  "Relax. SINs can be faked."
  
  "But in less than an hour?!"
  
  "I know a guy."
  
  Mr. Johnson dialed an internal number on his desk phone.
  
  "Mr. Nelson, could you please report to the third floor north office?"
  ----
  Back at Friendly Fire, the clerk sighed a bit. New arrivals were usually taken aback by the neon splendor of the district, but this guy looked like he was from one of the backwater worlds. Still, his money was likely good. Bumpkins usually didn't understand the idea of a counterfeiting operation. Most would be willing to take advantage of such naivete, but he tried to be as honest as company policy would let him. He smiled, taking the coin and nodding. "Yessir, I believe we can do plenty of business! Sounds like you're looking for something for self defense."
  
  The Greek's commlink- the mystic brazer- would buzz. An image of a rather basic firearm lit up on the screen.
  
  "If that's the case, I can recommend the Cavalier Safeguard as a nonlethal option. It's a solid taser, definitely not the most powerful on the market, but you'll get more shots out of it. Plus, tasers are open carry since last August."
  ---
  Back in the corner office, a sobbing Dwarf pecked away at a keyboard, obviously panicked out of his mind as the Sgormin held a Zangyack blaster to his temple, a wild look in his eyes as he twisted the gun. He'd been called in to meet someone, and suddenly shoved in front of a workstation with a gun to his head and told to make a fake SIN in ten minutes or less. This wasn't going to work, and he knew it, but these men just wouldn't listen.
  
  "HACK FASTER, NELSON! OUR LIVES AND YOURS DEPEND ON THIS YOU SACK OF SHIT!"
  
  "PLEASE, I'VE GOT A FAMILY!"
  
  "I'M A DESPERATE SGORMIN, NELSON! I WILL PULL THIS TRIGGER AND YOU KNOW IT!"
  ---
  "But if you need a more, ah, permanent solution, I recommend the Ares Predator Five. It's the most basic firearm on the market, but it's cheap, and has plenty of room for after-market mods. That's just for tasers and pistols, mind, you might want to consider heavier weapons as your skill and needs dictate."
  
  The man headed to a vending machine behind his counter, using his commlink to dispense two cans of lemonade and offering one to the greek.
  ---
  "IT'S DONE! IT'S DONE! OKAY?!"
  
  The blue alien looked over the SIN's details. Name, metatype, hair color, all the external stuff checked out. They'd have to get a sample to improve it, but for now, the identity would hold.
  
  "Antalio Smorin? Yeah, that sounds human enough I guess."
  
  The Zettonian put his hand on his compatriot's shoulder and shook his head, pulling him back and taking the gun. He made his way back behind the desk...
  
  "Well, Nelson, you did what we asked."
  
  Shortly before leveling the gun at the dwarf again.
  
  "Now, Mr. Smorin needs a rating 6 firearms license."
  
• 
  Brymor Crossing
  
  Genjuro had been pleasantly surprised. While the tech level in the clinic wasn't medieval, it was certainly pre-1700's. And with two centuries of medical techniques came a lot of advancement. Like germ theory, or antiseptic. He'd prevented the doctor from amputating a broken limb, instead putting it in a splint, going through all the injuries in order of severity. And he'd had to tell a nurse to wash her hands after leaving a restroom. Healing magic was all well and good, but magic wasn't free. These wizards could only do things so many times a day, and they'd charge at least 10 of a currency nobody here had to cover it. Maybe Ox or Dragon could help, but Ox was all the way back home with gramps.
  
  "Sword cults don't tend to stack gimmicks. If they have a poisoned weapon they'll tell you as much with an art name. He didn't give one, but the way the light hit it was pure metal."
  
  After cleaning out what wounds he could on a now-blushing elven woman with his first aid kit, he turned to Fat Shang.
  
  "...You want to go over anything I missed about the sword cult?"
  
  
• 
  The Remote Village
  
  As Doom approached the village from above, all that could be heard was distant music. A sickly green fog hung thick in the streets, while lights flickered on and off below. People sat slumped against buildings, with trash cans toppled and windows broken- obvious signs of rioting. Most of the town's doors were gone- some shattered with makeshift rams, most hacked apart with claws. Black feathers littered the streets. All in all, not a good scene. Inside an alehouse, a turned over jukebox sparked and sputtered, playing a tinny rendition of an old pop hit. Suddenly, Doombots laying among the garbage sputtered to life, once again beginning their wild dance and moving throughout the town.
  
  
  

Freshet The Mad Queen Thepotatogod

 

[Freshet]

Nameless Mook, Traitor of the Black Demon Sect, Sword Coast (Gladius II)​

Woozily moving his head back and forth as he took in his surroundings, the Imposter Shang let out a distinctive hacking cough. Spittle of blood and phlegm whizzed by and would've made contact with something. But it appeared that Genjuro, the ever busy monastic, was taking great care to assure that these primitive (to his knowledge) practitioners of medicine would keep these people from suffering while the clerics could not. The holy Elven man was taking great care in doing his duties and utilizing chi to restore flesh impacted by grievous wounds.

The Nameless Mook just stared in awe at the monastic of E-M-T as he spoke; he gave a really succinct answer. It was as if he too, was captured and raised in the Black Demon Sect forced to toil away in order to perfect themselves as tools for the Master to use. If their blades were dull they were taught to end themselves, which of course Fat Shang did not do as he ran away in the confusion by the band of heroes set out to stop the Bones of Creation and recover the Tian Xing Jian - one of the greatest Heavenly Weapons known in all of Dong Li! Could it be what the monk said was true, and that the rigorous practices implemented by the Master were ones utilized by other cults? The Nameless Mook could not possibly fathom other such orders being able to achieve what Bones of Creation had; but then again he was a biased party due to being abducted as a very small lad taught to never question and to obey each and every order of Mie Tian Hai, and those who were worthy enough to enter the higher echelons of the Black Demon Sect.

Genjuro even knew of the art name!

There was a distinctive, even more prevalent, frown not just due to the pain he had suffered through today - but just a reminder that he had not yet earned a name. Was Fat Shang a failure to the real Shang Bu Huan for not being able to find things of his own just yet!?

Gritting his teeth, the Nameless Mook took in a deep wheeze of air as he choked on that own access of breath. "The honorable, and noble, Monk of the Monastery E-M-T speaks truths. Th-" Fake Shang let out another cough as he took in a quick breath through his nose, as his nostrils flared out. "The Black Demon Sect takes the utmost pride in the sharpness and efficiency of their blades - the physical ones they carry or the mental ones honed through horrific training. Those among the order who possess such weaponry or talents would let you know in advance, as to carve you down without allowing you to have knowledge of their style is a mark of weakness."

"And weakness is not tolerated; To serve until you are a corpse, or get cut down and become one - that is the guiding principle that was always there, there in molding us. That mask. Those robes. He was a peer. An acolyte in the dredges who yearned of rising through the ranks to earn a name for himself in unadulterated and unmatched servitude, which would allow him the unparalleled honor to be trusted with advanced techniques of Qi."

The Nameless Mook closed his eyes for a moment and allowed an uneasy smile to grace his face. Opening his eyes back up, his head continued to wobble as his mind drifted back and back into the memories. His eyes began to glance towards the mask which still remained upon his hip. The Nameless Mook could feel it staring back at him; dismissing these thoughts as best he could he peered towards the Elven Cleric,"It was a short sword; double edged, meant for the use of a single hand. Handle forged from the blackest leather. Usually never lasting long enough for your fingers to mesh into it. It gets sharpened constantly as it is put to work constantly against wood, against metal, and especially against bone and flesh. As such many tips grew dull and even more rounded from wear. Tasseled pommel, so you cannot easily be removed from your blade. After all you are only worth as much as your blade - and your blade must be fit to serve the Bones of Creation. Yes; I know that sword - it is a sword that haunts me, a sword which mocks me, and a sword which keeps a darker presence over me than any of the Heavenly Weapons laying there, waiting for the Master."

This was followed by a few periods of chuckling as Fat Shang allowed his arm to drop and reach towards the simplistic sheath which housed his own blade. "But..." He waned as his fingertips brushed against the sheath, "...That sword was not the sword for me." His head lowered as his eyes darted to glance at the weapon sheathed within. While Fat Shang was not much in the ways of swordsmanship, while he was not as good at the manipulation of Qi as others in his former order, he at least had something - no matter how small and insignificant it was - that he could call his own. It wasn't much, but it was a start.

Raising his head back up the Nameless Mook spoke firmly and confidently, "His blade was not poisoned." After all, even though he was no longer a practicing member of the order, Fat Shang knew how the Black Demon Sect operated. Now the poisoning that could've resulted from staying too long in the dirty, danky, and filthy sewer complex? That he was not sure of.

zontar The Mad Queen FistOfTheBorkStar Donder172

 

[Eliasdagood]

Namorae: Outskirts of the Western Graveyard, The Badlands
Namorae crouches beside the man, lifting his arm to take his pulse. “You know, I’m not sure myself.” She says in response to his chuckle. “But we should be safe from whoever attacked you now. Do you remember what happened?” She asks. Hopefully he can give some insight into who attacked them.

Cortova: Her Ship, ETC Headquarters, The Badlands
“Read you loud and clear.” Cortova replies, maneuvering the ship to a landing. “We’ve got information on what’s looking like it might be a planet scale threat. Possibly larger than that if it gets out of hand. My compatriot here thought you might be the person to go to with it.” She glances at Karla, hoping the tiefling is paying attention to back her up here.
The Mad Queen GearBlade654

 

[Freshet]

Askelpiades of Hierekion: Friendly Fire, Black Star District (Gladius III)​

The Grecian Priest’s eyes widened as his mouth went agape, in a clearly cheerful mood, as he graciously accepted the canned beverage from the clerk. “Mine most gracious thanks be unto thou Shrinekeeper of Ares.” declared Askelpiades as he gave a bow before grabbing the drink, as he had merely accepted the offer to partake in the hallowed waters of the machine. It was strange that it did not produce the hallowed and sacred waters, blessed by Ares, but not so much that it was activated by the priest’s commlink. It would make sense for the hallowed who possessed such brazers be the ones to activate the device, much like how priests in his cabal operated their hallowed machines via coin.

As for the Priest of Poseidon’s mystical brazier, the commlink, he placed it on a nearby table as he glanced at the two strange weapons that were developed by these servants of the Patron of War. They appeared to look like a dispensary, although the slot from whence the coin entered appeared much to small for any mint. Askelpiades did not question at all the reasoning behind why a coin would be use to operate a weapon as surely Ares told them that this was a sound idea.

Askelpiades touched the thin layer of metal which constituted the can, or rather the car, and practically leaped away from his comm-link. “By the Ionian blessed by Poseidon!” Thrusting his free hand out upwards he leaned in towards the can, “Mine embracement feels t’jar, which twires thusly as the heavens above, is shivvering as if plucked from the very ice! Remarkable!” Askelpiades gingerly set the can of lemonade down, before offering a small prayer to Poseidon for being enriched with such knowledge.

Emerging from his kneeling position Askelpiades glanced towards the shop-keep as he began trying to unscrew the can open. “Well, ‘pon mine travels, I hath been sperred rather versely in the art of combat, having dispatched many a rudesby an’ monster or two.” Askelpiades the Black gritted his teeth as his hands were clearly having strain at trying to unscrew the lid of the lemonade can. “Verily! Thou manufacture pristine vessels for thy hallowed waters.”

The struggle was being continued as he looked at the clerk as if there was nothing wrong; “Dearest Shrine-keep, I trust I have not violated thy ordinances of the Prince! I wish not to be a burden to him, especially during the quest he hath given me. Most fortunate that thy weaponry is allowedst freely.” He gave a distinct nod as he placed the can down next to his comm-link and began circling around the lemonade can to find its weakness.

Peering up at the clerk he continued, “I wish, in my heart of hearts, a peaceful resolution can be achieved however such brigands, very much so the kind of lout which would imitate the court fool, tend not to listen to reason and must be sent for judgment down the River Styx." Askelpiades began prodding at the top of the lemonade-can, “My accustom is towards lighter weaponry, for I am not as great with larger weaponry lest I use both my hands, such as my hallowed staff which sometimes must be used for these purposes. Verily I have reached a conclusion; I would like to purchase both of the items you have provided forth to me as by your description, as a mighty keeper of the knowledge of war, suggested well. I am of course willing and eager to hear of your other options available, but those two weapons ought to suffice for an initial idea of purchase.”

After a period of time which would baffle most people, probably closer to minutes than just a handful of seconds, the Greek managed to find out the existence of the tab. Finding that yes, between his nail and finger, this tab was movable he proceeded to pull it upwards as it made the distinctive click as it punched down the metal and let out the hiss of carbonation.

“Marvelous!”

Truly things were falling into place; twas the will of Poseidon. In the back of his mind, Askelpiades of Hierekion hoped that the High Priests Smith and Johnson were having as much wonder and success as Askelpiades was finding. Some new weaponry was found, now it just needed to be procured and the method of operation needed to be learned. All that was needed after that was to find the brigands and to dispatch them for great justice and the Trade Prince. Askelpiades could not, he would not, let down this man who was a great and kind benefactor to High Priests of the Cabal!
zontar

 

[Ennuis]

Messier: Goodneighbor, Badlands (Gladius IV)
​

"As your attorney I'm gonna have to ask you to stop insulting them." While she still wasn't really sure what an attorney was, that felt like something she should say. "Let's just-" And then they appeared. A swarm of... Were they diamonds? Messier found herself enthralled by the sparkles now floating around Verdi. Leaning in closer to get a better look at the strange phenomenon, she was caught off guard by the sudden jerk of Verdi's hips and pulled back. "Hey! What did I just say about insulting them?" She didn't know why she was trying so hard to convince her it was a bad idea, Netherworlders never changed. Well, at least the few she met, but it stands to reason they're all like that. It would just make sense.

As the zombie started to come over, hopefully to untie her client, Verdi leaned in and whispered in her ear. "I have no idea what you're talking about, but it sounds weird and I'm a little uncomfortable with it. But I'll need all the advice I can get." Messier rushed her whispers near the end as Hancock got closer. Verdi, eager to be freed, turned to face the zombie and Messier took her chance. She reached out and grabbed at the sparkles floating around the Netherworlder.

The fusionist saw a faint glow from between her fingers and slowly opened her hand ever so slightly to look inside. Content with her spoils, she closed her hand tight again and checked back on her client who had now been untied and was being told the rules. Great, giving a Netherworlder rules ALWAYS works out. Or, at least that's what she heard about them. Messier took Verdi's hand in her free one and started walking her away from the armed goon from the previous shanty town. "Alright, for real now, you have to behave yourself. All this stuff is cutting into my fusion time. Plus, you need to tell me what I'm supposed to be doing. Is this a combat thing?"

The Mad Queen Freshet

 

[darkred]

"Your soul is human, that's the thing that matters to them most. Skynet may have altered you, but that might not stop a True Fea from targeting you." Jolie explained rather grimly "But, what was done to you, although awful might keep you off their radar."

"The friend I mentioned, the crazy connard (bastard) that managed to trap one? He was paranoid for a month, nearly considered skipping the country but...The Fea never came for him or anyone else present when it was tossed into the dimension. They don't hold grudges, Marcus. We're beneath them so it's rare for something to be personal."

She gestured back to the woman "That depends on who's looking for her. Crane seemed to be working with some powerful people, but I don't think they were Fea. That's not their style."

Marcus Wright
New Metropolis
Somewhere in Arklym Asylum- With Jolie, and a Changeling
Open for Interaction

Marcus frowned "Right, If you two must go on by yourselves, It is fine. Take care of yourselves. I apologize I couldn't do more to protect you two from the dangers out there."

The Mad Queen ​

 

[Freshet]

Giuseppe Fortunino Francesco Verdi Goodneighbor, Badlands (Gladius IV)​

As soon as Verdi was removed from the ropes she immediately began rubbing at her wrists with both of her hands. Slowly swaying from side to side the rock and roll woman had a huge grin on her face. “AHA! Sweet little wrists my cute and functional wrists, do not worry wrists no one will eeeeever do that again.” Besides the sparkly display around her face there were a few cartoon shaped pink hearts for just a moment before they popped away, due to Verdi noticed that she was being grabbed by Messier, as they lacked the staying power. Puffing out her cheeks, Verdi slowly slipped her hand out of the Fantastic Fusionist/Attorney’s grasp before doing a quick succession of two stomps as the pair entered the ghetto that was Goodneighbor.

“Don’t touch me. Only I can initiate touching. Also attorneys don’t hold hands with their clients.” Verdi quickly looked over her shoulder to her purse and began rummaging through it. Biting at her teeth, her hands furiously scrambled through the purse “Oh come on I swore I had some hand-santizer still!” This gesture was followed by a distinctive glowering as she began frantically rubbing her hands through her hair.

At which point she noticed something else.

“H-hey!” Verdi spun on her heels to glance at Messier as she placed one hand on her hip and began waggling her other hand out with an extended index finger. “I know how many cutesy, adorable, fantastical and beautiful sparkles I produce! D-DID THOSE GERMANS STEAL THEM DURING THE HAIR-FLIP!? They couldn’t use em even if they knew what it was for!!”

Exacerbated Verdi slammed her hands against her cheeks as she shrieked before slowly pulling them down. With a quick sigh her expression calmed down as the attorney needed to know what the hell she was doing. “Okay, basically, you just keep talking and talking until someone says something screwy and then you point out they screwed up. This sets off a chain reaction where whoever is talking on the stand will freak out and confess to things in a dramatic fashion. Got it?”

Feeling her stomach rumble Verdi dramatically pointed towards, well a set of buildings, “Never mind that I am hungry, I really want something to eat and – Oh by King Victor Emmanuel did they steal the bag of recycle currency!? Gwaaaaaaauuuuuuaaaaaaah....” With that Verdi hung her head low, distinctively very upset with the circumstances around her.

Ennuis The Mad Queen GrieveWriter

 

[FistOfTheBorkStar]

Golden Arm and Broken Oath: Nonspecific Forest Trail, Sword Coast North (Certh, Gladius-II)​

If one were to say anything of the forest pathway in which we now find ourselves, dear reader, it might be 'pedestrian', 'utterly ordinary', or even 'muddy enough to be mildly annoying but not so much as to prevent travel'. Put simply, there was nothing of note to be said. As concerns the road, that is. What did deserve mention were those travelling down this uncomfortably moist road. A troupe clad in black, all but two of their faces concealed behind silver masks. Were there any passersby, they might have been mistaken for a group of pilgrims. While such an assessment was not entirely wrong, both the group's armaments and their leaders' peculiar visages would quickly disabuse anyone of their assumptions.

The leaders in question were, of course, the aforementioned pair of unmasked men. Despite this commonality, however, the two had nothing else in accordance save their taste in robes. One was an Orc of most impeccable breeding, possessed of a hulking physique and leathery hide. The Grummshite Orcoid's most distinguishing features were his face and his weapon of choice. The face bore such an absurd amount of scar tissue as to be a different hue entirely from the rest of his body. Most gruesome, and a sign of many battles. As for the blade, it was without sheath, chipped in several places, and in such poor overall condition one might think it to shatter with a single swing. The Bones of Creation weeps at such wanton abuse against innocent steel. Despair, ye sons of the sword, for here stands a worker of iniquity.

Now, for the other leader. He, both in the figurative and the literal sense, was positively gleaming in comparison to his comrade. Seemingly without a blade -and a hat, for that matter-, the man stood out by his complexion, or rather, the artificial portions of it. From what could be observed at present, his ears, nose, and entire right arm were replaced with prosthesis made of solid gold. Yet, despite the obvious impracticality of such a venture, they could be seen to operate with the same functionality as a limb of flesh. Air passed in and out of his gilded nostrils, and his aurumnal ears twitched in response to louder sounds. A technological -or perhaps mystical- marvel, assuredly.

At present, the two were engaged in conversation, so as to stave off the spectre of restlessness.

"So, could ya explain to me how this 'gravity' nuttery works again?"

"I have covered this topic for the third time in the last two days. But, I suppose, given your breeding, rote memorization is the only method available. Before we discuss the finer points, I must first establish the founding stones of the theorem. As we have discussed prior, it is generally accepted that an object is drawn earthward when released from interrupting phenomena, correct?"

"Yeah."

"Do you also accept the presence of air around you, given your continued respiration?"

"S'pose so."

"Very good. Bravo," the man congratulated the orc in a dull monotone, with nary a hint of genuine praise, "you possess the faculties to not be classed on the same scale as either your Greenskin cousins or an Ostland Peasant. Take pride in this accomplishment. Moving on, with the foundation in place, we must now construct the walls and roofing. Prior to the establishment of the Imperial Colleges of Magic, there were a great number of theories -all proven false, naturally- concerning what kept us on the ground. I will not bore you with their drivel, lest Verena strike me down for permitting such worthless 'knowledge' to infect another. The truth of the matter is quite simple: the Yellow Wind of Magic, more properly known as Chamon, provides the force necessary to hold us to the surface. Common air on its own, obviously, lacks the weight for such a task. But Chamon is far more dense, weighty, and in sufficient amounts around the globe to ensure full saturation. For the sake of reference, think of Chamon as thick and syrupy, while common air is thin and watery. At the same time, do bear in mind that Chamon is not literally wind. It is an immaterial substance with properties similar to air, but it lacks certain properties common to the gaseous family. Further explanation would require a lecture comprising two hours at minimum, and I suspect you would not survive."

"Fascinatin', but I gotta ask: where's this Shamun come from?"

"Ah, you're making inquiries now. You've made exceptional progress; I will make a student out of you yet. To answer, we must look to the substances known as the Great Noble Metal and Great Common Metal: Gold and Lead, respectively. Chamon is attracted to metallic substances, and especially to those of greater density. Gold and Lead, being the most dense of all metals, naturally attract the highest concentration of Chamon. Hence the use of the two metals in alchemical work. However, this leaves us with a conundrum: Gold and Lead are found in scattered and uneven deposits, yet the rate at which objects descend is largely uniform throughout the world. The sole exception is Arabya, due to an environmental peculiarity that prevents significant concentration of any Wind of Magic, much less Chamon. I digress, but it serves well to explain the common Arabyan's frailty, as well as their nobles' fondness for ahem larger brides. While it remains a matter of debate, I hold to a theory that resolves the matter with ease. Simply enough, the source of Chamon's uniform distribution is not found on the surface, but within the planet itself. I propose that the heart of a world is an orb of gold and lead in constant flux. These fluctuations, of course, being the source of earthquakes. I trust that is sufficient?"

"How do birds work, do they use another one of those not quite winds and lift 'emselves up?"

"You're on the right path, but making incorrect turns. Birds make use of favourable currents produced by common air, aided by their hollow skeleton and compacted central musculature. Thus, their bodies are of lighter construction than other beasts, and are specially designed to produce 'lift' in the same manner as a man might jump. I do hope that answers your question."

"Ah, I see. It's like that. I get it now. Thanks, Goldie."

I don't get it at all.

"Wonderful. Please refrain from requesting a refresher for at least two days."

With that, the two grew silent, and continued on their way.

@ Nobody, again. This is a prelude to their 'proper' intro for meeting the Stout Shang Squad.