Asuras

From Oubliette to Oublioth [R.I.P]

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From Oubliette to Oublioth [R.I.P]

The Forgotten Ruins - Subterranean

The sewer tunnels beneath the ancient city had long since been drained of its unnatural waters, and only thin puddles remained. Rainwater and simple condensation in this humid underground sat as tiny mires where vibrant green mats sprung up through the cracks in the earth. Drains dotted the curved walls of the tunnels, funneling light from the surface down into the otherwise dim realm.

A pair of boots and the tiny pitter-patter of a small creature's limbs snapped through the echoing tubes. Short black hair dashed around corners, following after a diminutive red blob-thing. Annabelle, a title-less lady, made her way through the sewers of the Forgotten Ruins, wary of the sounds of clashing above ground. Navigating the place was frustrating, given its propensity to collapse into impassable walls of rubble, but with some testing, determination, and boundless energy to continue running, she made relatively short work of the labyrinthine tunnels.

When she had come upon a pile of rubble stacked to the ceiling, her dynamic little friend did its best to dislodge enough for her to slip over. The familiar, a blood elemental dubbed 'Carpenter' squeezed and slunk, morphing into fine threads of bright red blood as he coursed through the spaces in the rubble easily. Within its rocky prison, a push her, a snap of a whip there, and the pile tumbled in further on itself. Annabelle was not above squeezing herself through claustrophobic spaces, and some help from Carpenter tugging her through made for a simple experience. On one occasion she had to fit herself through a narrow tube in the wall of the sewers to reach the other side. She folded her arms up, stuck her feet in, and let the morphing familiar do the work of pulling her through. That must have been what a cannonball felt like, she imagined.

There were others down in the sewers, too, but only after she had already put in a considerable amount of time down there. Few were able to make it through the sewers from her starting position, but it seemed as though several groups had decided to venture below ground only once they'd made it deeper into the Ruins. Annabelle avoided confrontation. She was but one woman, even if she could profess having two capable allies always at her side.

Inwards she headed, following the pipelines directions only insofar as they pointed towards the city center. She was lucky that she hadn't yet had to ascend to continue on, but her luck was soon to run out.

A dead end.

Not a pile of rubble or a too-narrow continuation, but a genuine end to the pipe. A flat, solid wall stood before her. Perhaps out of a disappointment, or perhaps out of a fleeting hope that she was looking at some kind of trap door, she touched the wall softly. Finding it just as impassable as expected, Annabelle sighed.

A boisterous voice caught her ears, ringing sharply from above ground down into the sewer. Annabelle approached the steel-barred drain, eyes slowly adjusting to the light outside as she peered up to the ground-level. Carpenter bounced up with surprising agility for his rotund and stubby stature, and hung onto the ledge of the drain beside her.

Two groups had encountered one another, and stood at odds. To her right was a group of three; individuals that appeared of nobility, a man, and two women including a mounted horse. To her left was a group of four; a loud-mouthed and jovial man accompanied by a barbarian woman, a bowman, and a particularly generic-looking mage. She could tell by his hood and wooden staff.

"Now then! I know not who you are, fine ladies and gent, but I can assume we're all here for the same reason, yes?"

They appeared to be considering joining forces, though Annabelle could easily note by the trio's body language that said proposal was under considerable scrutiny. She listened in silence as they spoke back and forth, dutifully noting down the names of the trio as they introduced themselves. If they did decide to join together, they'd certainly be the biggest group she'd seen thus far. A troublesome band to try and navigate around.

Carpenter prodded Annabelle's cheek, drawing her attention. A stubby red arm pointed towards a peculiar object that had jutted out just beside the sewer drain. A small, sharp crystal grew from the corner where earth met ruined wall, and sparkled with a hue she was unfamiliar with. At the very least, it appeared the sewers led her to a promising location within the ruins. She would have to surface, but the group's presence worried her. She took a gamble.

If they were forming up, perhaps they would be more receptive to taking on another random while still in the 'team-forming headspace'. Annabelle knew people liked her, so she had some confidence in following through with her decision.

Annabelle took a step back from the drain, her back nearly pressing up against the opposite wall. She retrieved a dagger from the belts hanging from her back, itself saddled alongside the long leather sheathe of her main sword. With a quick spin in her hand, she drew it across her palm, letting blood droplets flow. She did not need much for what she intended.

As the crimson bead fell upon the water with a barely-audible 'plop', a silent phantasm began to fade into reality before her. Wordlessly did it understand her intents, and without bidding, it lifted a skeletal hand from beneath its red cloak towards the metal bars sealing the sewer from the sunlit world.

A red bolt was cast out, crashing into the drain and blowing it to smithereens. Thin weaves of lingering magic coursed through the remaining material surrounding the open hole, and as they faded, left behind trails of minute vegetation. Its task done, the spirit faded away, and Annabelle briskly jogged up to the hole, throwing herself up with a hop. It was too narrow to simply crouch through, and so she performed one final prone shimmy to get out of the sewer and onto the Ruin grounds. Carpenter leaped up beside her, easily making it up and over.

Annabelle stood amidst the low dust cloud that billowed outwards from her feet, patting herself down, and lifted her gaze to the group. Now that she was actually standing before them, she didn't know what to say.

And so, she said nothing. Would a smile suffice?

From Oubliette to Oublioth [R.I.P]

I've added the CS to the characters tab. Anything I should know, or where to start hopping in?

Arknights - Project Neptune

@Asura@Epsir@ianzerep@TwoFurrets

Been 5 days and just 3 posts. Y'all still alive?

From Oubliette to Oublioth [R.I.P]

Annabelle

Full Character Sheet

---

Name: Annabelle
Age: 25
Gender: Female
Race: Human

Appearance:
Height: 5'6
Eye Color: Red
Hair Color: Black

Personality. Annabelle learned in her short history to be quiet. Words are special, and finely placed in conversation. To that end, she is a woman of few words, and out of deep-seated reverence never fails to be polite with them. It is difficult to rouse her from anything but a flowing and calming but brief experience. She keeps friends easily thanks to her predisposition towards amicable social behavior, and is reliable perhaps to a fault. While certainly selfless, she will still vocalize her displeasure of being taken advantage of (calmly, of course).

While her words are soft and personable, her actions are anything but. She is swift and decisive, brutal and unforgiving. She is a fighter and explorer and little else, and her inhospitable upbringing lends to a ferocity when fighting that seems barbaric and pitiless. Annabelle will claim it is without emotion that she acts in this manner, but the gleam in her eye might speak to others of a lingering fear that's never left her.

Overall Annabelle can be a bit innocent and unguided, making it hard to understand some of the finer details in life. She is quick to try no matter how behind the curve she is, nevertheless, and if given the chance to prove herself will even more quickly prove her dedication along the way.

History:

From king's love, madness born
Is this unholy land of living mockery
The hunted stand and dance, quiver and roil
Tormented by their cursed skins

You wander far to the north in search of your prey -a herd of elk trampling the snow into a dense sheet beneath their hooves. You have been here before, but this is the edge of the world. Out here there is nothing but you and the untamed wild. Your expertise and wisdom have guided you through the taiga time and time again, given you both life and the means with which to pay for it. This is just another season of hunting, trusty bow slung around your shoulders.

The elk are wandering far this time, giving you trouble. You've made a few mistakes, but now they have nowhere to run besides a dense wood across the snow plains. You chase them there. A few stragglers will inevitably dart into the trees where it is easier for you to hide and approach. They make a run, and you follow. Your boots trudge across the field, sapping your stamina, but it is no different than any other day. You're built for this, and the cold stinging in your throat only invigorates you further.

An elk springs into the treeline, disappearing behind a prison of pines. Its tracks are easy to follow, and it will inevitably stop to consider its situation before returning to the herd. Deeper and deeper you go into this nameless forest. A place that no man, living or dead, may have ever set foot in before. You think for a moment that you might be the first thinking creature to ever touch the bark of these trees or their ancestors. It is desolate, but it is yours and yours alone.

You draw your bow, readying yourself for a shot that you hope will down the beast with less trouble than you've been given thus far. One in the chest, right for the heart or lungs. It has stopped in the woods, and you tread carefully, not making a sound. From beside a trunk, you find your mark. The beast cries out, staggers, and drops. It yet lives, but finds not the strength to resist the skill you have employed. You wait a moment for it to truly settle, and approach. Pulling out a knife, you waste no time in finishing the creature off, and set to work amassing the meat of your capture.

It is dark.

You stop your work and look up to find that you can no longer see anything. An all-encompassing blackness has enveloped you. Pitch-blackness -the sort that shrouded your very hands held in front of your face. You struggle to prepare your lantern without even an inkling of light of help, but eventually you bring it to life.

The snow is gone, but the trees and carcass remain. You are crouched over a path. A man-made one. As you stand to meet the barely-illuminated darkness with your lantern, you find that you are not in the woods you once were. Not truly, anyways.

The dead elk can wait. Were you to saddle the bounty over your shoulders, you do not think you could find your way home indefinitely. Magic was afoot, and you do not know if it is the kind you can escape. You push the wet chunks of the elk meat into a couple bags slung around your belt. At the very least, you have something to cook for a time. You set foot down the path with only your lantern to guide you away from stumbling and falling. The path is well-worn, and eventually you come upon an old road sign.

Holzwand

You have never heard of such a place, and certainly not here in the north. You carry on, hopeful that this location will be able to right your confusion. The path continues on for some time, winding through the unending forest. It doesn't take long for you to realize that there is neither moon nor star in the sky. Nothing to orient you upon the land. There is a rustling in the foliage beside you, off the path. You stop and throw your light its way.

From the darkness creeps a chattering congregation of maddening figures. Twisted faces of half-beast forms slag and melt, constantly righting themselves into more distinct shapes, only to fall away again. Their bodies float across the blackened earth... towards you. Distorted claws of shadow and flesh grope at the air where you stand, hungry for something you cannot fathom.

You draw your sword, and fight for more than your life.

-----------------------------------------------

Annabelle awoke upon an island of dim light, surrounded by a sea of darkness. She knew not her past. Not her origins, nor her reason for being here in this forest. She had no one, nothing, and not a clue where to begin changing any of that.

It did not take long to learn of the place in which she was now trapped, this 'Holzwand'. By the grace of something unknown, she was given reprieve from what would otherwise be utter darkness. Sight blessed her path, showing her what she needed to make do initially. This was an evil place lost to time, now bereft of any hope of cleansing. No man remained save herself, this wood-surrounded castle city populated only by three things: the various natural fauna of the land, somehow surviving in a desolate, malevolent place, the Wraiths, and the Twisted, as Annabelle came to call them.

The Wraiths, Annabelle thought, were once human beings, now turned into single-minded things hellbent simply on adding to the menagerie that is the Twisted. Half-man half-beast abominations stuck in the crossroads of life and death. She felt for them, but they knew only hunger for something she did not understand. All the beasts which died here became Twisted, and, she assumed, so too would she.

It took some time before she found her footing, learning of how to survive in the Holzwand. An ancient kingdom dilapidated but stuck frozen in time in a sequestered-off realm. She knew not how to escape it until an encounter with what she presumed to be the reason any natural creature could yet live.

A spirit of the land, defiant of the cursed air which plagued its stomping grounds, came to her in time, and offered her reprieve from the prison of darkness. With sunless years did she learn under the forgotten landgod until she was bade to leave Holzwand for the wider world. While the spirit could not leave its domain, it could send another out to seek aid. Annabelle often wondered if she was summoned simply for that purpose, but she yet remains unsure.

With her purpose clear but the path hazy, she broke free of the cursed realm, and set out into Oublioth in search of a cure to the ancient plague where her journey started.

---

Level: 20
Class: Spellblade
Profession: Survivalist

Stats:
Strength (STR): B
Vitality (VIT): B
Dexterity (DEX): D
Intellect (INT): B
Wisdom (WIS): F
Charisma (CHA): F

List of immunities:
None

Resistances:
-Druidic spells
-Natural cold
-Fear

Weaknesses:
-General magic

Equipment:
-A greatsword named 'Therio'. Serves as a focus through which she can also summon an attending spirit at the cost of blood. Takes on an arcane nature when empowered in such a way.
-A ritual dagger, utilized for any number of preparations, as well as general hunting.
-Longboots that have seen better days. Annabelle attests that she's seen deeper mud than most anyone she's ever met.
-Her jacket is enchanted, granting her a perpetual warmth. Thank the gods given her scant attire otherwise.

Skills & Spells:
Summon Spirit (Crimsig) - Manifests a bound nature spirit to her side, possessing of high Magic Power and Resistance, and negligible Strength and Dexterity. Crimsig cannot physically interact with the world except in minor ways including producing light (visible) and being unable to pass through objects (tangible). It can shift small objects, and cannot speak or otherwise communicate. Crimsig can cast generic druidic spells with a Blood Element tinge.

Control Familiar ("Carpenter") - "Carpenter" as 'he' is named, is a blood elemental controlled by Annabelle. As it is a conglomeration of her own vitality, she has full dominion over it, and any attempts by other actors to sway the actions of the familiar with their own magicks will be met with a high resistance. Carpenter can morph into shapes maintaining current mass including additional melee weapons for Annabelle to wield, but can also act as an independent physical combatant with moderate Vitality, Dexterity, and Magic Resistance, but low Strength and no magic-casting ability.

Calm Animals - Compels natural animals with low intelligence (D or lower) to be calm, eliminating aggression or fear.

Sacrificial Empowerment - Annabelle can, at the temporary expense of vitality, undergo ritual bloodletting to empower herself or appropriate equipment. Empowering herself slightly enhances Strength and Magic Resistance, while empowering equipment bestows a curse effect that deals heavy damage to afflicted individual's MP pools and magic strength.

From Oubliette to Oublioth [R.I.P]

I saw Intellect and "how large your MP pool is, how powerful your magic spells can be" and thought that was fitting. I definitely didn't mean she was intelligent (cause she definitely ain't). But also "How easy you learn" which does apply to her. And I didn't put wisdom cause that felt more like for... well... boomers.

From Oubliette to Oublioth [R.I.P]

First off:
Is Annabelle a native of Oublioth or not? The history does not make this clear, as it's written from a narrative first-person view, followed by a description of a realm that is seemingly seperate from the main world. In the case that she is an outsider, this would not be acceptable, as players are supposed to be natives of Oublioth. If she is a native who got trapped in some sort of shadowplane or minor pocket-world, this needs a bit more clarification.

@Xaltwind

She's a native. The 'being separate' is merely flavor. I didn't intend to mean that is was something like a different dimension or world. Certainly not in an isekai sense. Magically sequestered, more like. A pocket region, normally inaccessible except by intent or a stroke of bad luck.

Admittedly I know I took a bit of liberty with creating this place in terms of worldbuilding. I assumed, given other's histories that adding in things was fine, albeit everyone else thus far has just been pointing to kingdoms and the like. If you want the fundamental details to this place, I'd be more than happy to send them to you over PM. I was already going to do so, but you got to the review faster.

Additionally, if the only living things in the pocket-plane were Annabelle, the Spirit and the Wraith-monsters, how did Annabelle manage to survive for - what I assume - is years in there? The lack of food, safe shelter, drinkable water as well as the seeming absence of sunlight would all make it near impossible to survive, unless time was somehow also warped in that place.

"No man remained save herself, this wood-surrounded castle city populated only by three things: the various natural fauna of the land, somehow surviving in a desolate, malevolent place..."

The water is untouched, as this is a curse upon the land's creatures first and foremost, and an entire castle, forget the surrounding village, yet remain standing in the region. She was granted what amounts to a light spell to help her upon her arrival, which is supposed to be insinuated to be from the landgod that eventually helped her. Again, I can always give details on this over PM (unless you want it to be out in the open here).

Moving on from her history, we come to her skills and class. She is listed as a Summoner, but has stats and equipment more suited for a barbarian or melee-fighter. Now, I'm not one to tell you how to build your character, but it seems a bit odd for a person who relies on summoned monsters to fight for them to fight on the front-lines themselves.. Albeit, she doesn't seem to be your typical Summoner.

I'm not much of a DnD player, which is to say, I've never actually played DnD. I know all the basics behind it, but things like classes, stats, etc... I'm not familiar with. Obviously your typical summoner in most media isn't a spellblade, but I wasn't sure what else to call her without using a made-up class (and even then I honestly wasn't sure what I'd even name it!). But I'd also like to point out that her Intellect is B, definitely not low by any means.

This brings up another question though: If she was isolated in a world with only monsters who constantly hounded her, how did she have time to get her INT so high? Who taught her? How did she study? Where did she learn the spells she knows? There is no explantion or input about how or why she knows the things that she does - and putting an "amnesia"-censoring on the reasons is sadly not going to fly. If your character knows how to do things, especially magic, you need to specify where and how they learned that.

"With sunless years did she learn under the forgotten landgod until she was bade to leave Holzwand for the wider world."

It's supposed to be implied it taught her the magic, whose nature I can (once again) detail by PM if you'd like. There's a wider flair to this that I didn't necessarily want to reveal in the sheet. All of this occured after her arrival in Holzwand, not prior. She definitely didn't just "get" all this stuff without any mention.

Also, her immunities. I'm sorry to say but being immune to "forced" fear by magic or abilities is not an option. Either you're entirely immune to fear, or you're not. You can have a natural high threshold for it, but as a (what I assume is still a regular) human, you don't really have the capacity to be immune to such an emotion, no matter how horrible or traumatizing your life's been...

... Unless there's something mentally wrong with Annabelle, or she suffered a lobotomy.

I don't have as much of a reasoning for this one besides personally feeling that an intentional manifestation of fear could be thought of as different from an inherent fear of something. Being a spell, I simply thought that it would have an 'elemental quality' in a sense, and distinguished it from simply being 'darkness element'. I can remove it, ultimately.

From Oubliette to Oublioth [R.I.P]

Annabelle

Full Character Sheet

---

Name: Annabelle
Age: 25
Gender: Female
Race: Human

Appearance:
Height: 5'6
Eye Color: Red
Hair Color: Black

Personality. Annabelle learned in her short history to be quiet. Words are special, and finely placed in conversation. To that end, she is a woman of few words, and out of deep-seated reverence never fails to be polite with them. It is difficult to rouse her from anything but a flowing and calming but brief experience. She keeps friends easily thanks to her predisposition towards amicable social behavior, and is reliable perhaps to a fault. While certainly selfless, she will still vocalize her displeasure of being taken advantage of (calmly, of course).

While her words are soft and personable, her actions are anything but. She is swift and decisive, brutal and unforgiving. She is a fighter and explorer and little else, and her inhospitable upbringing lends to a ferocity when fighting that seems barbaric and pitiless. Annabelle will claim it is without emotion that she acts in this manner, but the gleam in her eye might speak to others of a lingering fear that's never left her.

Overall Annabelle can be a bit innocent and unguided, making it hard to understand some of the finer details in life. She is quick to try no matter how behind the curve she is, nevertheless, and if given the chance to prove herself will even more quickly prove her dedication along the way.

History:

From king's love, madness born
Is this unholy land of living mockery
The hunted stand and dance, quiver and roil
Tormented by their cursed skins

You wander far to the north in search of your prey -a herd of elk trampling the snow into a dense sheet beneath their hooves. You have been here before, but this is the edge of the world. Out here there is nothing but you and the untamed wild. Your expertise and wisdom have guided you through the taiga time and time again, given you both life and the means with which to pay for it. This is just another season of hunting, trusty bow slung around your shoulders.

The elk are wandering far this time, giving you trouble. You've made a few mistakes, but now they have nowhere to run besides a dense wood across the snow plains. You chase them there. A few stragglers will inevitably dart into the trees where it is easier for you to hide and approach. They make a run, and you follow. Your boots trudge across the field, sapping your stamina, but it is no different than any other day. You're built for this, and the cold stinging in your throat only invigorates you further.

An elk springs into the treeline, disappearing behind a prison of pines. Its tracks are easy to follow, and it will inevitably stop to consider its situation before returning to the herd. Deeper and deeper you go into this nameless forest. A place that no man, living or dead, may have ever set foot in before. You think for a moment that you might be the first thinking creature to ever touch the bark of these trees or their ancestors. It is desolate, but it is yours and yours alone.

You draw your bow, readying yourself for a shot that you hope will down the beast with less trouble than you've been given thus far. One in the chest, right for the heart or lungs. It has stopped in the woods, and you tread carefully, not making a sound. From beside a trunk, you find your mark. The beast cries out, staggers, and drops. It yet lives, but finds not the strength to resist the skill you have employed. You wait a moment for it to truly settle, and approach. Pulling out a knife, you waste no time in finishing the creature off, and set to work amassing the meat of your capture.

It is dark.

You stop your work and look up to find that you can no longer see anything. An all-encompassing blackness has enveloped you. Pitch-blackness -the sort that shrouded your very hands held in front of your face. You struggle to prepare your lantern without even an inkling of light of help, but eventually you bring it to life.

The snow is gone, but the trees and carcass remain. You are crouched over a path. A man-made one. As you stand to meet the barely-illuminated darkness with your lantern, you find that you are not in the woods you once were. Not truly, anyways.

The dead elk can wait. Were you to saddle the bounty over your shoulders, you do not think you could find your way home indefinitely. Magic was afoot, and you do not know if it is the kind you can escape. You push the wet chunks of the elk meat into a couple bags slung around your belt. At the very least, you have something to cook for a time. You set foot down the path with only your lantern to guide you away from stumbling and falling. The path is well-worn, and eventually you come upon an old road sign.

Holzwand

You have never heard of such a place, and certainly not here in the north. You carry on, hopeful that this location will be able to right your confusion. The path continues on for some time, winding through the unending forest. It doesn't take long for you to realize that there is neither moon nor star in the sky. Nothing to orient you upon the land. There is a rustling in the foliage beside you, off the path. You stop and throw your light its way.

From the darkness creeps a chattering congregation of maddening figures. Twisted faces of half-beast forms slag and melt, constantly righting themselves into more distinct shapes, only to fall away again. Their bodies float across the blackened earth... towards you. Distorted claws of shadow and flesh grope at the air where you stand, hungry for something you cannot fathom.

You draw your sword, and fight for more than your life.

-----------------------------------------------

Annabelle awoke upon an island of dim light, surrounded by a sea of darkness. She knew not her past. Not her origins, nor her reason for being here in this forest. She had no one, nothing, and not a clue where to begin changing any of that.

It did not take long to learn of the place in which she was now trapped, this 'Holzwand'. By the grace of something unknown, she was given reprieve from what would otherwise be utter darkness. Sight blessed her path, showing her what she needed to make do initially. This was an evil place lost to time, now bereft of any hope of cleansing. No man remained save herself, this wood-surrounded castle city populated only by three things: the various natural fauna of the land, somehow surviving in a desolate, malevolent place, the Wraiths, and the Twisted, as Annabelle came to call them.

The Wraiths, Annabelle thought, were once human beings, now turned into single-minded things hellbent simply on adding to the menagerie that is the Twisted. Half-man half-beast abominations stuck in the crossroads of life and death. She felt for them, but they knew only hunger for something she did not understand. All the beasts which died here became Twisted, and, she assumed, so too would she.

It took some time before she found her footing, learning of how to survive in the Holzwand. An ancient kingdom dilapidated but stuck frozen in time in a sequestered-off realm. She knew not how to escape it until an encounter with what she presumed to be the reason any natural creature could yet live.

A spirit of the land, defiant of the cursed air which plagued its stomping grounds, came to her in time, and offered her reprieve from the prison of darkness. With sunless years did she learn under the forgotten landgod until she was bade to leave Holzwand for the wider world. While the spirit could not leave its domain, it could send another out to seek aid. Annabelle often wondered if she was summoned simply for that purpose, but she yet remains unsure.

With her purpose clear but the path hazy, she broke free of the cursed realm, and set out into Oublioth in search of a cure to the ancient plague where her journey started.

---

Level: 20
Class: Spellblade
Profession: Survivalist

Stats:
Strength (STR): B
Vitality (VIT): B
Dexterity (DEX): D
Intellect (INT): B
Wisdom (WIS): F
Charisma (CHA): F

List of immunities:
None

Resistances:
-Druidic spells
-Natural cold
-Fear

Weaknesses:
-General magic

Equipment:
-A greatsword named 'Therio'. Serves as a focus through which she can also summon an attending spirit at the cost of blood. Takes on an arcane nature when empowered in such a way.
-A ritual dagger, utilized for any number of preparations, as well as general hunting.
-Longboots that have seen better days. Annabelle attests that she's seen deeper mud than most anyone she's ever met.
-Her jacket is enchanted, granting her a perpetual warmth. Thank the gods given her scant attire otherwise.

Skills & Spells:
Summon Spirit (Crimsig) - Manifests a bound nature spirit to her side, possessing of high Magic Power and Resistance, and negligible Strength and Dexterity. Crimsig cannot physically interact with the world except in minor ways including producing light (visible) and being unable to pass through objects (tangible). It can shift small objects, and cannot speak or otherwise communicate. Crimsig can cast generic druidic spells with a Blood Element tinge.

Control Familiar ("Carpenter") - "Carpenter" as 'he' is named, is a blood elemental controlled by Annabelle. As it is a conglomeration of her own vitality, she has full dominion over it, and any attempts by other actors to sway the actions of the familiar with their own magicks will be met with a high resistance. Carpenter can morph into shapes maintaining current mass including additional melee weapons for Annabelle to wield, but can also act as an independent physical combatant with moderate Vitality, Dexterity, and Magic Resistance, but low Strength and no magic-casting ability.

Calm Animals - Compels natural animals with low intelligence (D or lower) to be calm, eliminating aggression or fear.

Sacrificial Empowerment - Annabelle can, at the temporary expense of vitality, undergo ritual bloodletting to empower herself or appropriate equipment. Empowering herself slightly enhances Strength and Magic Resistance, while empowering equipment bestows a curse effect that deals heavy damage to afflicted individual's MP pools and magic strength.

Arknights - Project Neptune

@ERode@Asura@Zombehs@Epsir@Psyker Landshark@ianzerep@TwoFurrets

"We're from all over the place, it seems," Chariot nodded, gripping the polyester belts over her torso. Her head turned to each as she repeated their names, clearly trying to cement them down immediately. "Vlad. Mule. Thrones. Strix. Dragoon. Feral. Pavan." Chariot nodded again with a smile, confident that she had them all straight.

"I was worried we might end up too focused on any one role, but I guess Retra knows what it's doing," she said. There were a few moments of reprieve from the turbulence, before it came back with a vengeance. The operators were practically bouncing a half-inch off of their seats as the jet rumbled. A red light washed over the cargo bay, accompanied by a gently-toned but loud ding. Their earphones burst to life with a crackling voice unfamiliar to them. It became quickly clear it was their pilot.

"Hold on tight now," he began, "Might want to flex yourself to push back into the seat. Things are about to get real' bumpy." Sure enough, the shaking in the jet had become downright terrifying. The crates and loose metal pieces all around the cargo hold were clanging and jumping, sliding and scratching. Outside they could hear a ghoulish howling of the wind, accompanied by a heart-shaking rumble of some massive engine. The red light turned into a rotating double-beam warning signal, washing red light over the operators cyclically. A harsh alarm sounded for five seconds, then went silent.

Were the operators to angle their heads aside to the small window ports, they would see the reason for their hellish ride. To both sides of the cargo jet, a city in the sky drifted at speeds only just under their own, growing closer and closer to the nose of the plane. Massive, skyscraper-sized jets spat out blue flame that carried the city aloft, and all about it were other flying objects, like sparkling white fish trailing beside the lazy wanderings of a whale.

The cargo jet drifted in closer until one of the walls of the Vindsvalr seemed as if mere yards away from their wingtips. Though the jet rumbled terribly, it kept a steady course until the massive rows of Vindsvalr's wings were below the jet itself. Slowly it approached a circular platform in the middle of the long stretch. Claw-like machines unfurled, prepared to receive the cargo plane.

The alarm blared to life again, persisting as the howling began to die down, and suddenly there was one last huge shaking in the plane, followed by a sharp acceleration that lasted but a moment. The plane no longer shook, but the wind still howled. Chariot released her sweaty-palmed grip from her seat belts and her jaw relaxed. She blinked a few times and let out a sigh of relief.

"Gonna need a restroom soon, am I right?" she said with a chuckle that was cut abruptly short. The plane bumped once, followed by loud mechanical whirring. The plane was descending straight down, the wings of the Vindsvalr rapidly ascending past their windows. The light of the sun outside darkened, replaced by artificial lights in a dark, industrial scene. It appeared as though their jet was being lowered by elevator into the Vindsvalr itself. Outside their windows was a massive hangar, though given the size of the cargo jet, appeared suited for them and them alone. A great number of people stood waiting at the hangar floor. Color-coded jumpsuits and small flashing vehicles for transporting cargo encircled the cargo jet as they descended.

The elevator came to a halt, sinking into a perfectly-sized cutout in the floor. One last alarm signaled the opening of the jet's cargo bay, and the ramp at the back lowered slowly.

"You're free to unbuckle," said the pilot, "Make it quick getting out, and stick to the walls." The cargo ramp hit the floor with a clang, and immediately workers began to rush inside to get rid of the cargo, wholly ignoring the operators as they made their way down. At the base of the ramp stood an attentive young woman with a long, blonde braid. She wore a composed, smiling expression, and kept one of her hands hovering over what appeared to be a PDA. As soon as one of the operators made it down to the floor, she started counting them with a pointing finger held close to her chest, mouthing each number silently.

"That's all of you! Welcome, welcome, new operators!" she said, "Have all your things? We'll be heading straight for the simulation. It should all be booted up by now. My name is Diver, if you remember our correspondence together! I'll be taking you through the process today, so if you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask. I know this might all seem very brisk and to the point, but we just want to get the onboarding stuff out of the way as soon as possible. Already we're itching to put you all into some real action," Diver explained.

"I know you all must be tired, but we unfortunately need to get this final examination done A.S.A.P! Any one need some coffee? Something to eat?"

Arknights - Project Neptune

First GM post is up.

For those Operators who would have initially set out on the Eastern continent (Ursus, Lungmen, Higashi, etc) you would have taken an initial commercial flight across the globe to reach Columbia first, where you then reached the Retra private airport.

You were authorized to bring with you only what you could carry in one backpack and one duffel bag.