Long before mortals, the lands of Alma Terra was home to immortal beasts and demons. It was in a constant state of flux that would strike fear into any who witnessed it. From this chaos the planet began to fight back. It threw fire and sut and from this fierce attack brought an age of calm to its war torn skin. It was from these ashes that the modern world was built on. From within the energy of these immortal creatures was the building blocks of men, elves, dwarves, orcs, and every other creature that calls Alma Terra home. And while they do not shake the ground as their larger predecessors. Still these smaller beasts do the immortals work. They war, scar, and rape the land under their feet with brutal acts. They build machines who can only kill maim, and torture. Perhaps it is not these mortals faults, perhaps it is because they are the spawn of that which committed the same act. The King of Men looked over his capital city with the look of someone aged by worry. This worry came from the knowledge that had just been delivered to him. Another Hero Object had been found. Normally this was good news; however, this time the object was found with its owner dead. At the hands of an unknown enemy. Someone had begun to hunt down Hero Objects and they had finally claimed another victim. It has been four months since he first learned of the Hero Hunter. Since then he activated his own Hero Object. The Horn of Man it was called. It had the power to be heard by all Hero Objects and call them to the Horns location. Every guard in the city knew to keep a look out for any possessor of a Hero Object. Each was to be treated as a returning General and escorted to the castle that makes the heart of the city. Since he used the horn only one Hero has made it. He called himself Devin. The King had been told to expect several others to arrive today, but it was nearly midday and not a single Hero had arrived. He gave a silent prayer for the Heros swift arrival and safty.

The crickets chirp and chitter at her as she walks quietly, low to the ground. Her red hair tucked into a bun, she wanders through the woods, listening to the sounds of the forest. She reaches up and touches her back once again. The sheaths that protected something valuable hums and warms her hand at her touch. She keeps a tight grip on the homemade spear that she has created though from the forest. She walks through, following the guide that she senses in her heart and mind. She reaches the edges of the woods and there, standing before her, is the city that she has been searching for. She drops her spear and looks up at the grand city. She smiles. It reminds her of a city from one of her books. She looks down at herself and knows immediately that she will stand out. She is wearing a white crop top that says "Smile" and white shorts covered with leave and dirt stains. She sighs, wishing for a brief moment that she would've washed her clothing in the river before she came. The stains helped her blend in with the forest though, so it was a good and bad thing that she was dirty. She begins to approach the city, listening to the bustling within its streets. She walks quietly, hoping to blend in, but she knows that she does not. She sees a few people looking at her. She keeps her head down and keeps walking.

Hector Faust, Outside of the Capital The rumble of hooves preceded the first sight of Faust’s company, at the city gates the guards had snapped to attention upon hearing them. Ready for friend or foe. From the trees horses emerged, flying a sky blue banner with a white lightning bolt striking down its center. Beneath it was a man-shape mounted upon a muscled destrier, he and the horse both wore armor of overlapping plates, but unlike the horse he was entirely hidden by his. Only two holes remained for eyes, and they glowed with a faint light to match his banner in color. Flanking him on either sides were two dozen armored riders in formation, serving as an honor guard, and a pair of light supply wagons followed in their wake. They approached the gates and halted twenty strides from the alert guards. The leading rider passed his banner to a follower before riding ten strides closer. “You stand before Faust the Thunderous!” he exclaimed, somehow striking a heroic pose from atop his mount and using the only natural gift he had brought with him from Earth, a clear and resounding voice. “Make way! For I am summoned here by the grace of your liege, and he will not kindly suffer dawdling.” The guards quickly remembered their orders regarding Hero Object wielders, and their captain stepped forward. “Present your Hero Object, my lord, so that we may escort you to the King,” he stated, his helm resting under his arm. “My pleasure,” Faust whispered, his low voice echoing from his helm unnaturally. He raised a short rod pulled from his belt and it began to crackle with energy. “Thank you, m-“ the guard captain’s reply was cut short by a blade of lightning striking down from out of the clear sky above, connecting with the rod to unleash a cacophony of thunder. Although Hector’s horse didn’t so much as flinch as he returned the rod to his belt, once their ears had stopped ringing the guards could hear the panicked neighing of horses and barking of dogs from within the city walls and even his men had trouble controlling their mounts. “My lord...” the captain finished with a dour expression, before turning to his men to ready an escort.

Nathan whistled a tune as he walked down the dirt road, light hearted and somewhat cheerful. It had been a good morning. He’d come across some other travellers and exchanged a friendly word with them earlier, and the weather was quite fine. The sunlight felt warm on his skin and there was a light breeze that added a spring in his step. It was a fine day to be travelling, and he would arrive at the next city soon. You should hurry up. A voice in his head said. “Oh, come on, Beholdy. It’s so nice today.” Nathan said. The Horn of Man has been sounded. This means- “Yeah, I know. I know.” Nathan sighed. Nathan had been on the road for around a week when a strange horn sounded from somewhere far away. Beholdy, his hero item, had told him to go to the source. The Horn of Man had been sounded, it’d said. From what Beholdy had told him, whoever held the Horn of Man had the power to call other hero objects to it. Also according to Beholdy, a hero object was an artefact that chose its master, waiting for the right person to wield it. Whosoever did was privy to its powers and history, along with an eternal companion resting in the object. Normally, hero objects took the form of something close to the original hero who wielded it, which meant that there were a bunch of hero swords and stuff around. Nathan couldn’t even guess why Beholdy was a headband, but there must’ve been some reason. Well if you know, then you know the urgency of this situation. Beholdy said. “Oh, come on. It can’t be that bad.” Nathan said. “And look, the city’s right over there.” As Nathan walked, the city’s walls loomed into range, bearing down on travellers coming by. As Nathan beheld its size, he couldn’t help but appreciate the size of the city. For a few weeks, he’d been stopping by in small towns and it’d been a while since he came through another city. Nathan walked into the large city, walking through the streets full of people. It was pretty busy, likely on account of it being midday. Nathan looked around, wondering where to go next. “Hey, Beholdy. Where next?” He asked. I don’t know. It said. I have not been to this city of man in decades… “Oh.” Nathan said, surprised. “Maybe I’ll ask someone.” Nathan looked around for a guard. Spying one by the street, he pushed through some people to get to him. “Excuse me!” Nathan called out to him. “Do you know where the castle is?” The guard noticed his voice and looked over him, only to jump, startled. Nathan’s headband tended to surprise people sometimes, but never that much. Maybe he was just jumpy? “You there.” The guard said. “Are you the possessor of a hero object?” “Uh…” Nathan said, taken aback. He didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t known anyone who recognised a hero object before. What should he say? Answer honestly. Beholdy advised. The bearer of the horn is expecting you. “Yup, that’s me.” Nathan said. The guard looked around at the street full of people, motioning for another guard to come to him. “Come with me.” He told Nathan. “The King is expecting you.” “Alright.” Nathan said, surprised. The guards parted the crowd around them and made a beeline straight down the street, seemingly to the centre of the city. As Nathan was led through the streets, he began talking to Beholdy in his mind. So, with these hero objects… Nathan thought. What is it? Beholdy asked. Well, I was thinking. I came from a different world, but I ended up possessing this hero object, right? Yes. Beholdy agreed. Your point? Well, I was thinking about my other friends and whether or not they ended up here as well. At this, Beholdy was silent. Has it happened before? ...I don’t know. I guess not. For the first time in a little while, Nathan started thinking about his friends and where they might be. Maybe they were worrying about him in the real world, or maybe they were enjoying that field trip. Or maybe they were in this world, with their own hero objects, drawn in by the power of the Horn of Man.

Kirk shouldn't do it. He should not be doing what he was doing. Destoc told him it was ok, but he knew it wasn't. He had finally entered the capital and should alert the guard, or look for the king. However Destoc insisted that he had enjoy himself before looking for the king. "Im telling you, its fine! We aren't in 'hurry' village, we are in the capital! It'll be super easy to get the guard or someone to bring us to the king after we are done! " Destoc spoke, the metal head bending in ways it was never intended to bend. " Are you really sure? As much as i'd love to hang about here, you were really being an ass about getting to the capital, and now that we are finally here you think we should waste our time doing this? " " Yeah, go ahead. I'm telling you now that we are here you are set, now go on! I know you were waitin for this! " Kirk didn't have the will to resist, he walked into the tavern and stole the drink right out of a man's hand. He shouted about how he'd pay him back later, and went on to get absolutely plastered. At first the tavern keeper and customers found him to be a major pain, but after he started paying for drinks and telling storeis they all got along quite well. He went on to drink and party for most of the afternoon. Later that evening, however, a guard who was curious about the racket coming from the tavern and found Kirk mumbling about how he was gonna ' break evil's neck in one hit'. After some questioning, the guard came to understand he was one of the heroes. He helped Kirk carry himself as they went on to see the king.

Nolan dismounted his horse and flipped a coin to the stable boy his sword resting easily at his belt and the bow slung over his shoulder lay there giving off the impression of someone well experienced in its use, he wasn't sure why the king wanted wielders of the Hero Objects to arrive but no doubt they were needed for something important. "Idiot, he just wants my power for himself." his artifact whispered scornfully. "There's no reason to think that, you're so suspicious." Nolan mentally whispered back unsurprised once again in his artifacts utter lack of faith in humanity and cynical nature. As he walked up to the castle he saw some drunkard being dragged away by a guard and shook his head. Sometimes he was more inclined to listen to Loden than not. Nolan found another less per-occupied guard and asked him to lead on to the castle and after a short explanation of who he was, which really was unnecessary, the way Nolan dressed was rather distinctive, the guard lead the way to the castle. On his way there he considered how drastically his life how changed, and yet in some ways not at all. After all he was still fighting for his team, just here it was to the death and the tools for the sport were rather different. On second thought that was a horrible analogy, oh well there was a reason he had been a C student in school. Once again he reflected on the different views this world had brought him, a year ago he would've been worried about the high school exit exam, now he was worried who would try to kill him next.

"Shut up already..." Volker was incredibly tired of his blade's negative shit and sheathed it causing Astraeus' speech to be muffled. "That is much better!" he exclaimed as his smile widened. Despite his sword being his only constant companion, he could only handle so much of its gloom before he was influenced by it. Astraeus' ceased trying to speak, realizing he would not be heard while Volker looked through his pockets and managed to find a bag he would place his berries in. He took it out of his pocket and looked inside to find the realization that he had no food at all. He still grinned, he wouldn't let hunger get him down! He gripped his sword by its handle and strode out of his shelter when Astraeus repeatedly flickered its white light. The blade peeked out of its sheath and caught its wielders attention. "What is it?" he asked. "Considering your reaction I'm going to assume that you did not just sense that." "Sense what?" Volker was curious now. He held his blade close to his face and openly expressed his eagerness to know with his grin that somehow got even wider, this time to the point of being uncanny. "The Horn... I'm going to need you to move in the directions I tell you." The wielder had faith in his blade and quickly grabbed his things before treading to wherever Astraeus wanted him to go. ◆◆◆ His clothes were even dirtier and ripped from moving through the forest as hastily as he did. He examined his body to see if anything grazed him while he was running. Dammit, my clothes are somehow more of a wreck than they were before... Oh well! Volker studied the city from the outside and he was simply slack-jawed. On the outside of the gates he could easily see the guards and even some of the people entering and exiting the city. The guards Volker could see seemed incredibly serious, none of them expressing any kind of emotion. "Now what?" "Calmly approach one of the guards and show me to them. They'll deliver you to the king an-" Volker stopped listening after the sword said guards. I'll cheer them up. He was now dashing towards one of the inexpressive guards and leaping at him. Caught off-guard, the guard fell onto the ground after Volker playfully tackled him. Within seconds, a few of the surrounding guards snatched Volker off and took Astraeus out of his possession. "... All of you need to lighten up." After hearing his master say this, Astraeus started to glow white. Many of the guards shook their heads and one managed a chuckle before they realized that a sword glowing and being capable of communicating with its master is not too normal. The guard he tackled placed Astraeus back in its sheath and helped Volker up. "Follow me. The King is expecting you."

Time: Early Evening Reports had started to be received regarding the Heroes being found and brought to the castle. They were instructed to prepare for an audience with the king over a formal banquet. At such times they would be invited to join in the first Meeting of Heroes. At the castle each Hero was well received with a giant bedroom and the offering of a massive bath in the company of assistants and entertainment. Those that were found or arrived later in the day were brought straight to the banquet which was already starting. The banquet hall housed nearly one hundred. Mostly land owners in the surrounding areas but every corner of the Kingdom of Man was represented. With extravagant jewel and clothes each seemed to be trying to put their best image forward for the arrival of the heroes. Finally a loud trumpet marked the arrival of the King. Who after entering took advantage of the bows and silence. "Welcome lords and ladies to a most auspicious occasion. We have waited and our resolve has been answered. I give you...." With a sweeping motion every door at the north end of the hall opened and from each door a hero emerged. "Mans strength. Our Heroes!" The whole hall erupted in applause and cheers as the music started to play and the heroes entered the party.

((Sorry, quick time leap in here)) Robyn noticed a guard escort ahead of her and she quietly snuck up behind it. She proceeded to follow the escort to the castle, where she is halted by more guards. "No one enters but heroes and royalty" the guard claimed and Robyn looked up at him. Quickly, she drew her two swords from behind her back, gripping the hilts together. She showed them to the guard and the swords murmured to her. She cringed slightly, ignoring the voices as much as she can, for they spoke to her of murder. The guard's eyes got wide and he called an escort for her. She smiles and tucks the swords back into her sheaths. The escorts lead her into the castle, leading her straight to her bedroom. Once the guard escort leaves, the maids in the rooms undressed her and took her to the bath. She is washed and scrubbed furiously, getting rid of every evidence of being in the forest. She hated most of it but once she got out, she noticed a big difference in her appearance. She stared in the mirror as her red locks flowed midway down her back. She twisted and the light from the windows reflected off her hair, making it look like fire. The maids did not speak to her at all. Merely, they sat her down in front of a mirror and began yanking at her hair with brushes. One maid worked on her face and the other braided her hair in a fishtail style, going over her shoulder and reaching down to just above her rib cage. Once they were done prepping her, they took her to the closet and showed her the styles of wardrobe she had. She noticed the silks and soft dresses and she rolled her eyes. She walked over to it and pushed back the dresses, reaching for a black combat suit that looked very interesting to her. The maids exchanged looks but neither of them argued with her choice. She then kicked them out of her room and proceeded to dress herself, pulling on the tight black pants and the tight black vest with a low V neck. She pulled on some hunting boots she found in the very back of the wardrobe and pulled her sheaths onto her back. Her flaming red hair stands on on her collar bone and the guards then call for her. She looked at them and they explain that it is time for the banquet. She took a deep breath. Be brave, my hero, that katanas whispered to her. For that is what you are. Brave She was guided to a door at the end of the hallway and she noticed a few others standing there. A man on the inside with a loud voice spoke extravagantly and suddenly, the door in front of her swung open. She took another deep breath and thought Show time. before she stepped through the door and into the party.

Nolan dismissed the servants from the bathing area. He hadn't had anyone help him bathe since he was 5 and he wasn't going to start again now. After a brief and vigorous scrubbing he quickly clothed himself in his normal clothing, the fancy suit that lay on the chair made what the castle though he should wear obvious, but Nolan had no intention of dressing up for anyone. He quickly combed his hair and donned his cloak and mask then headed to the hallway. He stood their nervously and his cloak hissed at him, "Don't eat or drink anything its poison." Nolan sighed and shook his head, surely the king wouldn't call them all her to poison them... right? Nolan frowned, Loden was getting to him, he wasn't normally this suspicious. As they were announced he heard the whispering of, something else but he couldn't make out what it said, he assumed Loden was messing with him and ignored the voices and stepped out into the party. He saw another women dressed in a daring black suit step out in front of him, something about her was... familiar. Probably just his mind playing tricks on him, he adjusted his sword uneasily, he had brought it simply out of habit but now it seemed rather out of place. He quickly stepped through the crowd as they parted before him to the food table, he didn't really want to talk to anyone here so he might as well get some grub. After filling up a plate with food he sat at a table, raised his mask and carefully began eating with surprising sophistication, normally he would've just chowed down but he didn't want to leave a bad impression.

The hot water eased the tension in Faust’s muscles as he lowered himself into the overly large bath, cracking his neck and letting out a relaxed sigh as the water reached his shoulders. He had dismissed the attendants and entertainment before disrobing, which was apparently uncharacteristic since some of them had appeared legitimately offended. Although he did not mind flaunting his newly acquired physical prowess on certain occasions, a year in Alma Terra had done little to dampen the modesty he had been taught on Earth. For this upcoming event he decided that a moment of solitude, shared only with Rod, would be the most beneficial course of action. There were important things for the two to discuss, and many plans to lay. This would be his first impression on the King, and the lords of the capital, so he would need to be at his best to gain their favor and the favor of the other heroes. Yes, and once you have proven yourself you will be poised at the King’s ear. An apt place for the two of us, an apt place indeed. Rod whispered. “Christ, there’s no need to sound so ominous, Rod, we fight for the good of mankind,” he replied, applying soap to his unruly helmet-hair. You mention this name, Christ, as curse quite often. Was he such a tyrant to earn this ill repute? “No, I suppose not. My land is simply a place characterized by irreverence, the pious actually call him their savior…now that I’m here in a world of magic, I wonder if he was?” The question was rhetorical, so Rod remained silent for a moment before returning to their original topic. Already your name has spread from Thirdain to Amaltas, and monuments rise in your honor. It will not be long before you have become the savior of mankind, if you remember patience and caution. “Speaking plainly, as usual, but first we must deal with matters at hand. What has the King summoned us all here for? The realms we have risen to protect are left undefended while we attend a banquet,” Faust paused, his brow furrowing. “I cannot imagine he his name would be so respected if he were a man of whimsy, so there must be a dire need for our presence. The sooner we figure out what that is, the better prepared we will be.” Indeed. Rod whispered. Once again striking a heroic pose, Faust stood on the other side of the central door and awaited its opening, as instructed. He hadn’t needed the clothing that had been provided for him, all of his finest attire had been aboard the wagons he had brought. So rather than the silken trappings of the nobility, he wore a suit of dazzling ceremonial armor, which was plated in silver, and sported a bejeweled gorget studded with sapphires. Belted on his left was a ceremonial, but functional, sword in a gilded scabbard with a jeweled pommel and fine leather wrappings on its hilt. Rod hung from the other side of his belt, appearing inconspicuous and austere in comparison to the sword. Just as he intended. Finally, he heard a muffled voice on the other side of his door. It's about to begin, he and Rod thought simultaneously. "Welcome lords and ladies to a most auspicious occasion. We have waited and our resolve has been answered. I give you...." The door in front of him swung open and he stepped forward into the banquet hall with dignified grace. "Mans strength. Our Heroes!" The applause was everything he had hoped it would be, he smiled and raised a hand to wave at the most influential and wealthy men in a kingdom. He also took a moment to see the other heroes after which he concluded that they were a strange bunch. While some passed through the crowd without delay, Faust entered the mix with a charming smile. He shook hands, patted backs and shared a few words of encouragement and humor with the nobles he walked through, leaving a trail of nodding heads and laughter in his wake. When he made it through the nobles he found himself before the King. "Your majesty, I am humbled by your invitation and honored to be in your presence," his shining armor clanked noisily as he knelt before the King, placing his left fist against the floor beneath and resting his right hand on his knee.

Before they could present him to the public, Kirk needed some help. Now as much as the doctors would have loved to do something about his love of alcohol, that wasn't possible. But they could remove the hangover, and that would certainly help him not embarrass himself or any other heroes while participating in the banquet. It didn't take long for them to start the regenerative process. Before he knew it, Kirk's system was clear and he had no pain rattling around his head at all. He also had to get dressed up before introducing himself to the king, nobles, and representatives. As much as he would have loved to dress formally, he didn't have any clothes like that. He would rather not borrow or purchase any clothes of that kind anyway, he doubted he wouldn't use them much. Kirk was pretty sure he wouldn't be attending many parties, not that he wouldn't want to. After giving his head enough time to do its job, he figured that wearing his earth clothe's would have been the best decision. He cleaned up his hat, jacket, shirt, jeans, and even his socks and shoes. It took him a little longer then he had wanted it too, but sure enough he was able to clean them up. Although back on earth they were a bit bland and normal, compared to the clothes of Alma Terra they were outstanding. It took time to clean himself up, but it didn't take too long. He had managed to make it to the door of the banquet and stand alongside the other heroes before it started. He didn't say anything to them when he got there, they were rather intimidating. "Kirk, if it hadn't had been for those healers, you would have been in a lot of trouble. To put it in your vocab, ' Wow that would've fuckin sucked'. Don't go drinking before visiting kings you idiot. " Rarely was Destoc this serious about something, so Kirk knew to take him seriously, although he did have some trouble doing so. " You wanted me to do it! Besides, it all worked out well I guess. Although to be honest, i think i'd rather be a little tipsy then completely sober when we walk in there, at least it would help me look like I have a more of a personality." They didn't have any more time to squabble, soon as Kirk was done whispering to Destoc the doors opened. One of the heroes went almost directly to the food, while another was weaving himself into the crowd. The one who Kirk's eyes followed was Faust, and that man knew what he was doing. Shortly, he was in front of the king, and Kirk followed him. However when he spotted the king, he started to tremble slightly and couldn't bring himself to move. The most important person in the kingdom, or at least, that is how the villagers he had befriended talked about him. While others would remain calm, Kirk would break into a sweat.

“Ugh.” Nathan sighed, relaxing in the bath. You have so much stamina, and yet you sound so tired. Beholdy said in Nathan’s mind. “This is a new situation for me, you know.” Nathan said. “It’s pretty stressful.” He’d arrived an hour or so earlier, and every minute of it was tiring. He was greeted, given access to a huge bedroom too extravagant to be comfortable in, and decided to take a bath. At that stage, a bunch of servants tried to help him with it, whom he’d sent away, and he was finally alone, sitting in a bath to release some tension. Nathan lowered his face in the water, feeling like hiding out from the world. Bubbles escaped from his mouth as another sigh came from his lips. He lifted his head again and sank back, relaxing in the bath. “This is going to be so annoying.” He sighed again. I agree that this extravagance is unnecessary, but humour the King. He has spared much expense for the heroes. Beholdy said. “Well I never said I wanted that.” Nathan said, getting out of the bath. He shook off some of the water and dried himself off, making for his clothes. Grabbing them, he quickly slipped on his underpants, followed by the comfortable dryness of his black pants, and then the slight roughness of his brown shirt. I’m not against your choice of attire, but to wear that to meet the king is just… “Look at it this way.” Nathan said, slipping his shoes on and making his way out of the bath. “I have absolutely no sense in fashion, so I may as well wear what I know.” He began walking towards the room he’d been given, passing some servants going on their way. I would still suggest slipping on something more… fitting. Beholdy said. “Like what? You know I can’t dress well if my life depended on it, and my colour sense is literaly non-existent.” Nathan replied. I cannot refute that. “See?” Nathan said, arriving at the door to his room. He opened the door and entered, closing the door carefully behind him. He took his shoes off and left them by the door. He then walked in to the centre of the room and fell down onto the carpet, back first. He didn’t really feel comfortable with sleeping on the huge bed, and he’d probably do it at night, but not now. “This is way too fancy for a pleb like me.” Nathan said out loud. Plebeian or not, the King needs you. Beholdy reminded him. “You’ve told me a thousand times, you don’t need to tell me anymore.” Nathan said, sitting up. He paced over to a large his bag, on which his hand wraps lay. He took them and began winding them around his hands. “So, I’ve been wondering.” He said absentmindedly. Yes? Beholdy asked. “Why doesn’t the blindfold get wet? I mean, it’s a blindfold, right?” Think of it for a second skin. Beholdy replied. It is possible to remove it, but it is affected by liquid similarly to your own skin and will not impede your natural bodily functions. “That’s, well…” It is strange, yes. Beholdy said, confirming Nathan’s thoughts. The hero object is a part of you now. It will remain yours until your death. You, Nathaniel Albin, are now a part of its history, as many have been before. Nathan had a sudden thought. “What happened to the previous owners?” He asked. The original owner died peacefully, surrounded by his students, whom he all cherished. Beholdy replied. Some users have… not been as fortunate. “Huh. Really?” Nathan said, finished rewrapping his hand wraps. He squeezed the air a few times experimentally, satisfied at the tightness. “Well, I hope I won’t die.” Nathan said. The banquet will begin soon. Beholdy said. “Got it.” Nathan replied. He took grabbed his staff leaning by the wall and made out of his room, heading towards the banquet hall. A little while later, Nathan was behind a door at the north end of the hall. He was also near the other heroes. It was strange, as some wore clothes from his world. It was likely that he knew them, but he’d need to hear their voices to know for sure. Unfortunately, he couldn’t talk to them, as they were soon to re-enter the hall. Nathan gripped his staff as the doors opened, and they were ushered out into music and cheering. As he walked out into the noise of the crowd, it was quite clear that Nathan was extremely out of place. Hundreds of plates lined the huge tables, filled to the brim with food that looked to be delicious. The fragrance of many delicacies mixing together was intoxicating, but it only served to make Nathan feel even more out of place, as the chairs were lined with noble-looking people, all adorned with jewels and jewellery, with clothes so fine that Nathan’s own rough shirt felt like sandpaper just by looking at them. Alright, I see what you mean. Nathan thought to Beholdy. Beholdy said nothing. Nathan tried waving, awkwardly holding his staff in one hand. He didn’t really know what to do. It was clear that the King wanted them to do something, but what? What did the king mean by Man’s strength? Why were they needed? Around his fellow heroes, he was still pretty out of place. Some of them had clothes that they likely kept from earth, and he was only reminded of his own simple clothes even more. His clothes were clean, of course, but still simple and rather underwhelming. So what do I do now? Nathan asked Beholdy. Beholdy didn’t respond. Nathan looked around. Some of the heroes had already decided on what to do, but Nathan wasn’t too sure what he should do. 2 people were paying their respects to the king and one had made a beeline for the food. Nathan was kind of hungry, but he was pretty tense. He didn’t know if he could enjoy a meal under that kind of pressure. So Nathan stood there awkwardly, wondering what exactly he should be doing.

Volker eagerly followed his guard escort, the whole time smiling at everything and everyone that passed by. The whole city's existence interested him immensely. "We're going to meet the king!" Volker vocalized his excitement while shifting his head left and right while his eyes darted around, analyzing all he possibly could. "You do know you are only meeting him because you found me, right?" "..." Volker lightly tapped the sword's hilt and the fraction of its blade showing disappeared under its sheath. He didn't want to contemplate how much of the reason the king cares about him is due to Astraeus. He continued to follow the guard through the city and towards the castle. Volker followed the guard past all of the walls and structures until eventually he was led to a grand bedroom. "Prepare yourself for the banquet." The guard uttered quickly before closing the doors to the bedroom and leaving. Volker assumed he was either busy or didn't enjoy being tackled by Volker as much as Volker did. The hero gaped at the size of the bedroom and the bed itself. He immediately dropped his bag onto the carpeted floor and removed his shoes before jumping onto the bed. He unsheathed Astraeus as he frolicked from one corner of the bed to another. "Are you going to continue to be a buzzkill?" he asked the sword as his jumping slowly undid the sheets below him. "You should not be jumping around with me in your hand. It is dangerous." Volker pouted for a moment before returning to to his usual grin. Oh well... He bounced around, sword in hand, until all the bed sheets looked unkempt. The hero and his sword rested on their backs when one of the assistants asked if he would like for them to bathe him. Volker replied by ripping off the scruffy rags that barely held themselves together. The assistants scrubbed him down until they got all the dirt and gunk off of him. He exited the bath and dried himself off, asking for the assistants to leave him be, before walking back into the bedroom. I haven't felt this clean in awhile... Volker thought as he looked through a closet full of beautiful clothing. He peeked over at the remains of his old clothes. The only real reminder he has of reality. Volker's smirk widened as he paid his attention back to the closet full of this world's garbs. He grabbed some leather boots, dark pants, a belt, a red shirt, and a sleeveless tunic to wear over it. He grabbed a black cloak to cover it all. "... You'd look stupid with those things and ominous with the cloak." Astraeus said. The blade also thought the dark colors did not suit Volker's personality at all. Volker ignored him as he fastened his belt and put on the cloak, leaving the hood down. "Let's not keep them waiting..." he sheathed Astraeus. He now stood behind the doors that would lead him to the banquet. Volker looked around at those who were probably his fellow heroes. He felt compelled to actually communicate with at least one of them before the doors opened and his focus was now on the party. He rushed past a few people and stumbled a few times before finally making to the food table. Volker started nomming as much as possible.

Earlier that day, Outside of the capital Just off of the main road, hidden away in a small copse of trees were a group of men and women watching the gate. "Are you sure you have to do this Anthony?" One of the rebels said, her accent and the way she pronounced his name making it sound like 'Antony' "I'm positive, and if i don't go Gaius will call me a dishonorable coward." He said. "All of this skulking around is dishonorable, but we shall never refuse a summon when the horn calls we come. And perhaps we can find a peaceful end to our conflict." Gaius said, seemingly speaking from everywhere and nowhere all at once. "Well i don't know the man, but he can't be good if he let his land fall into this state, and let people outside the walls die." "Perhaps he does not have enough men to fight." "You and I both know that is not the problem, and besides from what little memories you have you've beat back entire armies with less." "Did i? I can't seem to recall." Anthony just shook his head, and adjusted his gear waiting for a way to enter the city, and it came in the form of a retinue of men lead by someone in heavy armor, even from where they sat they could hear him as he addressed the guards acting very much like a king, but to Anthony he was just another loud mouthed fool peacocking for his gathered men. But then the man pulled out a rod and a single bolt of lightning came down and struck it. Startling the guards and the horses of his men, Anthony took back what he thought about the man peacocking whoever he was had a hero object and the power to back it up. "Go now, under the carts." Gaius urged him, but he did not require it before he knew it, he was moving as quickly and as silently as he could taking advantage of the momentary chaos caused by the bolt. He managed to get under one of the supply wagons, and hang onto the bottom of it. When the wagons were a good distance away he let go dropping into the street getting his green cloak all muddy not that anyone would notice seeing as the cloak was all dirt, mud, and field patched anyways. With the caravan firmly out of sight, he disappeared into the crowds of the city. Later that day, the palace Anthony didn't linger for very long, instead going straight to the palace and scouting it out. He waited for what felt like ages for the right moment but in reality it was only a few hours. He resigned himself to entering through the front door, approaching the guards they looked at him curiously. "You look familiar." One of them said, and reached for his sword. "I left the party for some fresh air, perhaps you saw me enter?" "No, I could of sworn i saw your face on one of the wanted posters." "You must be mistaken." "I'm not mistaken, you're that rebel!" "Whatever you do don't fight them." The guards grabbed Anthony by the collar and pulled him to the ground. "Nice, try traitor." The other said and dragged him into the palace. The nobles turned their gazes to the guards dragging in this scruffy rebel by the collar of his tunic, they slammed him to the ground in front of the king. "This rebel was trying to sneak in through the front gate M'lord." And with a bow and a swift kick to the ribs to a fallen Anthony the guards left the room. "You didn't fight them I'm very proud of you Anthony." Gaius said, "Tell that to my ribs." He said aloud, and looked to the king. "You going to have my head right here, or you going to have the courtesy to offer a chair to a guest?" He said, staring the king right in the eye from the floor unflinching even with the dull pain in his ribs.

Nolan frowned as the guards brought in someone they refereed to as a rebel and shoved him before the king. Frankly he was surprised that he hadn't received the same treatment, he had been under the impression that killing nobles tended to do that. Apparently no one liked the ones he killed any more than the mistreated peasants they ruled over. Or they were to scared to do anything about it, he thought cynically. Sighing he polished off what remained off the food on his plate and left ignoring the slob next to him and was about to walk over to the king when he noticed someone waving a staff around and looking incredibly awkward. Sighing he walked over to the nervous person and said, "Come on then, the king will want to see us sooner or later might as well make it now." and then proceeded to do just that, walk over to the king. The other nobles of course parted to make way for him like he was the plague and he heard several whispers of "murderer", and "assassin", he simply ignored them nearly as disdainful as Loden. As he neared the king he respectfully bowed rather than fully kneeling like was no doubt proper, "I would say I hope you don't think of me as to forward but I really don't care, so why exactly are we here?" Loden sniffed haughtily, "Doesn't look like much of a king to me."

Robyn stays toward the back of the banquet, leaning up against the wall. Dressed in her dark clothing, she had hoped that no one would notice her, but she has already had multiple walk up to her and congratulate her. As they come and go, the swords whisper to her and she cringes, not wanting to give into their blood lust. She does not understand why they call them Heroic Objects, when these swords at anything but. She stares at her boots when suddenly there's a commotion across the hall. Her head flies up and she sees a young man being dragged by guards into the banquet. They throw him at the feet of the king and she lurches of the wall, looking toward them. The man looks faintly familiar, but she does not know where from. The man makes the comment and Robyn bristles angrily. She stalks over to them. "You may want to show a little more respect, sir," she says angrily. "This man could end your life and I can already see in your eyes that you do not want to die." Her fingers itch to go to her swords, but she steadies herself. She then realizes what she has done and turns to the king, bowing before him. She kneels to one knee, placing her fist on the floor. "I am sorry, Lord King. I must have lost my head." You cannot lose your head, for I am always in it. Yūkan'na, her katanas, whisper to her. She swallows hard and ignores them.

After the Heroes made their entrance several were immediately trapped by eager ladies in waiting and barons hoping a friend of the Hero might earn them a place higher up in the food chain of politics. The food and drink were distributed liberally with plenty of both for the crowd. One hero made his way to the king and gave a formal voice of thanks. This seemed to please the king who smiled. "It is I who should thank you young Hero. Please a savior need not kneel. It is us who are in your debt." The voice betrayed the Kings appearance which was one of an older man. Instead his voice, like the hero object he possessed, rang out loud and powerful even echoing some as those around him drew quiet. The reason for silence seemed to multiply after a group of guards pulled a young man forward. The face now recognized by many as the one on the wanted posters. The mans name was unknown and he was simply known as a bandit. Since his attacks on caravans both traders and the kings own he had been getting more and more recognition. When the man is thrown in front of the King he turned to the bandit and frowned. "It would seem we have lost our manners when hosting this hero..." His voice was low and threatening to the guards. They quickly started to defend their actions pulling out a poster, but were quickly silenced by a wave of the Kings hands. "I pardon all acts against my seal this man has committed." There was no murmur from the guards. Instead silent nodding. The King then walked over and pulled the young man up onto his feet. "It would be wise to learn you are not back home playing a protagonists journey. Learn to adapt instead of create more chaos. Not knowing the larger picture can make you the bringer of disaster." This was said in a high whisper. The mood was now dapper and the King quickly signaled for the band to play bringing life back to the party. "My captain has informed me that you all come from the same home. It is understandable that you all have much to catch up on. I too would like to hear of how you came to be chosen as a hero." The King was again standing with his strong voice and aged body. Still his eyes seemed to twinkle like that of a boy in a candy store.

Sean Evans, Outside the Capital The Lord of the realm assigned twenty men to accompany Sean on his summons to the capital. They traveled on horseback under the cloud covered sky. Perhaps we should move quicker… The daylight is all but gone for this day, the moon is coming round - wouldn’t you agree?, Sean heard the voice of the nameless ring insert itself into his thoughts. “I wouldn’t want to tire the men by having them move faster. We have already been traveling since noon.” We are likely to be late, many have already arrived. Sean was a suspicious as to how the ring knew such a thing, but he figured he wouldn’t bother with it, the ring was likely to give it’s usual reply - ‘I do not know what you are talking about.’ - the ignore all future mention of it. After many hours the gates to the capital were in sight. Ah, the capital. It has been many moons. The ring seemed to be reminiscing. The clopping of hooves echoed as they made the transition from gravel to cobblestone roads. The moon was high in the sky by this point and the clouds seemed to not have moved at all. We are most certainly late. The ring maintained its calm demeanor. We must find ourselves an audience with the king - there is likely a gathering of the heroes. The clopping of hooves suddenly ceased. We must have arrived. The ring seemed to be relatively satisfied. "Captain Heinsworth. Why have we stopped?" Sean road to the front of the guard. "They're approaching us, my lord." Heinsworth steadied his steed. "Who are you?" One of the three guards, who were approaching, called to Sean and his guard. "We are the honor guard from Rathe, escorting the bearer of a Hero Object." Heinsworth called back. The city guards were close enough to see by this point. They carried torches and one a banner. At the mention of the phrase 'Hero Object' they turned and began discussion silently. They turned back, "May we see the Hero Object for confirmation?" "Of course!" Sean rose his staff so they may see it and the glowing stone atop of it. A glowing, blue, mocking bird fluttered about for a few seconds. "My lord, please come this way - the king is expecting you. Sean had arrived later than the rest and so, hadn't had a chance to make his way to his room - he was given a chance to change his garments to a more formal attire. He was then positioned behind a door, staff in hand, leading to the banquet hall. The other object bearers will be behind other doors. "That would make sense." Sean realized something the other day, but hadn't brought it up yet. "When you told me that I was destined to be here, you refused to elaborate... Is this it then?" The voice remained silent. After a while, it spoke. When you get out, try to make the king's acquaintance. The ring had ignored him, it was as he had expected it to happen. He could hear a muffled voice from the other side of the door. It then opened and the king, himself, introduced all of the object bearers. Sean stepped through the door and joined the party.

Nolan's brow furrowed in response to the king's words. They had all come from the same place? Then someone else must have vanished from that field trip, he turned to examine the black-suited women more closely, it was clear now. The year spent in this world had changed her but now he could see that if she came from the same place as him she must be Robyn Silverman, the super-smart girl who was always reading. And the only girl he had a crush on but was to embarrassed to ask on a date. Loden hissed angrily, "This is no time for your wasteful emotions to occur!" Nolan colored slightly but it quickly went away and he hissed back "Shut up, this is no time for your spiteful and suspicious words either," Nolan sensed a sulky silence from Loden but refused to say anything else, luckily as far as he knew no one could hear Loden but him. Although he was positive that the women was Robyn he still had to make sure so he asked her, "Would you perhaps be Robyn Silvermna?" he asked somewhat nervously. He wasn't sure whether he wanted the answer to be yes or no and he didn't know how he would respond anyway.