Eisenhorn

The Things We Fight For

To call it a very long month and a half would have been a gross understatement.

Solomon Howe, Callsign Dunkirk, was crawling across the top of his Mech while they were hunkered down in the ruins, doing field checks and spot checking various parts of Vickie while they were waiting for the order to move. Howe wasn't a fan of waiting, especially with what was on the line currently. They were going to reach the critical point of no return soon, where the efforts of the Princess they were hunting would be irreversible and render the last month and a half of fighting pointless. It was arguable they were wasting resources at this point, that the Corrosion had rendered the planet unsalvageable, arguments that he had heard more times than he ever cared to admit. New Alexandria was the first time he heard it, hell, this all reminded him rather unpleasantly of that very same fall, except this time there was something that could be done. By the time the Princess had been found on New Alexandria there wasn't any combat effective forces let that could mount an attack needed to breach the defenses surrounding it. Here, here was different, it was one of the reasons he volunteered the moment he heard about a planned attack on the Princess corroding this planet by its very existence.

A month and a half of wasted time, not counting the half month before reinforcements arrived, of fighting, waiting, covering Constellations as they dueled with the worst the Aberrant could muster. A month and a half of dying while analysists and intelligence officers debated and sifted through recon information. A month and a half to find this Princess, organize a strike force, and have them struggle to even remotely keep to the necessary time table to even give the planet and its survivors a chance to recover before the next Aberrant invasion. Sitting beside the 20mm mount for a moment, looking over the ammo feed, Howe lit a cigarette, taking a long drag and holding the warmth in his lungs. A month and a half to end up sitting in a bombed out, ruined hotel wondering if the roof was going to cave in and bury them all while waiting for the Constellation in charge, Commander Aurigae, to go back and forth with the battlefield analyst about their current planned route being too slow. Took long enough for that realization, Howe mused, clambering back down to where the other pilots had gathered under the towering Mechs. The CQB Package that was mounted on Vickie right now, among other things, was uparmored and that, ironically, made it easier to climb up and down to do spot checks when moments like this availed themselves. Damage to the armor was superficial at best, nothing critical or load bearing was damaged, and he had plenty of ammo to spare. A good day to get their collective asses in gear and get moving.

Aurigae was making her way over, leading Howe to exhale a plume of smoke before she got close enough that he would consider aiming it elsewhere. He met her gaze evenly, expression calm and collected despite all the openly shared information about how dire their situation was, no sense mincing words about it. He knew the reputation he had, he never argued about it, but what was a 35 ton war machine good for if you didn't put it in harm's way. Constellations were all fine and well for breaking Barriers, but they had to get there and survive long enough to make it happen. If another servo needed replaced after shoulder checking a threat, or a manipulator got mauled pinning an Aberrant down so be it. Job got done all the same, and Aurigae reminded him why he struggled to talk to her kind. Cannot ask for lives, speaking as fellow warriors, if he had a few drinks in him he would have started mouthing off at that point, but he composed himself instead. Taking another drag, and stomping the cigarette out, he spoke up, seemingly first.

"Not much to have an opinion over, is there? We keep playing it safe, time runs out, another planet lost to the Aberrant, the last month and a half of blood and sacrifice made completely pointless. Only option we have to do our jobs is go loud and punch through what the Aberrant puts between us and the target or die trying. More death, more sacrifice, but better chances of all that meaning something for once. Only option worth considering given the circumstances." More like the only option worth a damn, but he had to keep his professionalism intact while on the field. Howe had said his piece, however, lighting another cigarette as a sort of nail in that sentence, and another metaphorical nail in the coffin as he scanned the others gathered and present. Time to see the stock of, well, most of who he was with. He suspected he knew how Sabine would respond, in her own manner of speaking, but let her start rambling when she chose to. For now, he was more interested to see what the relative unknowns had to say about the whole affair.

The Things We Fight For

Solomon Howe

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx B A S I C I N F O [Name] Solomon Howe [Callsign] Dunkirk [Gender] Male [Age] 29 [Rank and Designation] Petty Officer 2nd Class [Place of Birth] New Alexandria, Alexandria Colonial System [Official Statement] "Doesn't matter if we're surrounded. Reactors good, still got ammo, means we get to take a few more with us. Lucky us." C O M B A T A B I L I T Y [Mech Model] Brose Arsenal Mk VI Victoria Universal Chassis [Type] Modular Vanguard Unit [Size] 45' Tall, 35 Tons with heaviest Armament Package. [Core] N/A (See Brose Arsenal Fusion Reactor) [Armaments] Brose Arsenal Fusion Reactor - Designed as an answer to a question no one else is asking, no official Brose Arsenal designed and manufactured Mech mounts any sort of Aberrant Core power system. They continue to, rather stubbornly, maintain conventional power sources despite the drawbacks they entail. One upside, however, was that not needing any sort of Aberrant material meant they had literally no restraint on production, not that it was an issue due to the overwhelming Aberrant war on humanity as a whole. Lacking the longevity of Aberrant cores, the Brose Arsenal Fusion Reactor is none the less capable of maintaining combat levels of energy output for extended periods of time compared to almost any other conventional source of energy, being commonly referred to as "The best of second place" by anyone who examines the blueprints for a Brose Arsenal design. Confoundingly, the entire chassis was designed explicitly to draw from a conventional Fusion reactor, ideally Brose Arsenal design, meaning attempts to retrofit Mk VI chassis that survived the fall of New Alexandria have not been worth the effort. External Co-Pilot Module (ECPM) - Originally a trainer module, then modified for field use when Aberrants began their all out extermination of humanity, the Co-Pilot module allows for a second pilot, soldier, or later on Constellation deployment, the ECPM has two modes. Co-Pilot mode allows the rider to operate the secondary weapon that is typically mounted to the ECPM, provide targeting data, and otherwise support the pilot in operations. VIP mode locks out all controls except the hatch and comms to the pilot, though the latter can be shut off if need be, to prevent interference if the passenger is not trained in either piloting or mech combat overall. Modularity - The Mk VI was designed to, either prior to deployment or, when circumstances allow, at forward operating bases and other secure locations that a hot swap can be performed. While the original founderies have long since stopped designing and producing Packages for the Victoria line of mechs, mostly due to their loss to Aberrant advances on humanity, it is possible that other packages can be salvaged or produced. Below are the current options available to Howe's Mk VI. Without a package loaded, the frame lacks any innate weaponry besides the force a mech can produce throwing punches or grabbing and slamming threats, though all package armaments can be ejected if speed is needed. CQB Package - A standard go to for Howe, the CQB Package up armors the Mk VI in anticipation of urban and close quarters combat not allowing room to evade attacks. Weapons wise, the primary weapon is a combat shotgun loaded with buckshot, although the package supports bringing specialty ammunition should the need arise. Secondary weapons include reinforced manipulators for close quarters fighting, and a backpack mounted 20mm autocannon for suppressing and bringing down large numbers of lower grade Aberrants. The package has several Fragmentation Grenades that are hip mounted, lacking impact against targets with sufficient protection but can provide breathing room when Aberrants or other targets lack sufficient protection. Assault Package - The original universal package, the Assault package is the lightest current package, giving it the highest innate speed without jettisoning weapons. Its primary weapon is a belt fed heavy assault rifle, ammo stored in an ejectable compartment mounted below the ECPM, removing the need to reload mid fight but running the risk of overheating. The secondary weapon is an air burst mortar system, capable of either detonating based on proximity or on a timed fuse, as set by either pilot or, if available, co-pilot. This package has several adhesive grenades, latching onto a target before detonating with sheer explosive force, lacking shrapnel or anything otherwise unusual. Recce Package - Designed for observation and longer range support, the Recce package sees less use than the other two and mounts an enhanced suite of sensors and targeting systems, specifically designed to assist other mechs in targeting and tracking enemies. The primary weapon is a large Designated Marksman Rifle, rounds originally an attempt to overpower Barriers prior to AB materials that, while a complete and total failure, have been repurposed for defeating more conventional defenses and protections. The secondary weapon is a Point Defense machine gun, while the weight saved from other, heavier weapons and ammunition storage taken up instead by data analysis and scanning systems, heavily reliant on a co-pilot to take full advantage of.

Profile [Surface-level Impression] Petty Officer Solomon Howe finds himself always more at ease behind the controls of his Mk VI Mech, nicknamed "Vickie", than he does almost any other time. He is professional on duty, always pushing himself and his frame harder and harder in combat scenarios and while carrying out his duties in support of the Constellations. Under fire he is calm and collected, more concerned about getting the job done than earning glory or going out of his way to cause trouble for himself or others. He has no regard for his own safety, however, having zero qualms with putting his Mech directly in the line of fire if it means accomplishing the mission. Off duty, Howe struggles a great deal with a cocktail of survivor's guilt and a general lack of hope in the future of mankind. He smokes heavily, drinks constantly, and does little to foster connections with his fellow service members. He doesn't go out of his way to alienate or drive them off, but his dreary outlook can be difficult to breach. Under the alcohol and tobacco abuse, he doesn't enjoy thinking the only way out is dying on his feet, but doesn't see any other way that this ends. The Constellations are too few and far between, the Aberrant numerous to the point of absurdity, and as far as he can tell Earth doesn't seem to care. It is always the colonial holdings that suffer the consequences, something that does very much rub him the wrong way. He is willing to get into fights for his fellow service members, especially when its people who haven't ever seen a combat zone. [Personal History] Solomon Howe was born on the world of New Alexandria, part of a family who had regular career presence in the military. Unlike some families, however, they never particularly cared for or even discussed it as anything else as just another part of living on the world they did. You were either a soldier or a worker, and the Howe family were always soldiers. Solomon was raised with the expectation that he would be a soldier as well, and sure enough once of age he would enlist into the Mech piloting program the planet maintained, assigning him to ride as a co-pilot during training operations with the then Petty Officer First Class Boyd Hancock. Three years into his training and efforts to become a Mech pilot the Aberrant would arrive in the Alexandria Colonial System, sparking a sudden rush to defend against the incoming horde of monstrous invaders. The system would be caught off guard, no signs of Aberrant interest having been shown before their arrival, delaying the response of the Constellations that were available. The planetary garrisons organized evacuations to New Alexandria itself, condensing all available military might there. Emergency authorization allowed experienced trainees to join their instructors in live combat, and Howe would remember vividly, often when trying to sleep, the comms chatter and panic as he manned the co-pilot seat of Hancock's Mk VI Mech. Constellations arrived on New Alexandria, the most senior Mech pilots joining to escort and guard them in an effort to stem the tide. The effort to condense all available military resources in the system turned out to be a double edged sword. While it concentrated the military capabilities, it also surrendered most of the system to the Aberrant and concentrate [i]their[/i] efforts against New Alexandria. It was here that Howe saw just how hopeless things were. Even with concentrated Mech support, Constellations were getting slowly overrun and dragged down, Mechs often going down alongside their charges, trying to buy them scant seconds more to escape. No AB weapons were lost, the military forces were able to see to that, but the time came to evacuate all remaining combat personnel, as civilians were long since evacuated after the first Constellation death. Howe was among those evacuating, alongside Hancock, who had promised that Howe would finish his training and inherit the man's Mk VI while he moved on to another Mech. Howe agreed, despite the sinking feeling of having watched the grandest heroes of humanity ground into the mud like common infantry. Still, he didn't bring it up during evaluations, and was approved to continue Mech pilot training. Petty Officer Howe, after finishing the formality of training, would spend the next nine years volunteering for the most dangerous missions he could get authorized to go on. The memory of his home world getting overrun and torn to shreds and some thought he wanted to prevent that from happening again. His off duty life proved to be rather unremarkable, concerns that he got into a few fights but no charges were ever pressed and disciplinary action never came up after the fact. Howe would defend the fights he got into as defending fellow service members, though the recently promoted Chief Hancock would usually keep things more on the hush hush, as losing a good pilot over nonsense off duty would be a damn waste. Still, Howe kept pushing further and further into more dangerous missions. Each time he returned, he registered more damage than other pilots, on average, something that was noted in his service record. Howe refused any sort of psychological evaluation, pointing out time and again they couldn't afford to have pilots taken off the line just because they were aggressively carrying out orders. His on duty actions never warranted enough concern to have him evaluated, some people mistaking the zeal for making up for a lost home world, and was quick to accept when the next volunteer only mission came up that he was offered a position on. It was how he ended up supporting Constellations directly, not caring about the details of his next assignment, just caring it put him further towards the next battlefield. He was informed it would be escort duty for Constellations responding to another system that had been caught off guard by the Aberrant, a cold pit of Deja Vu in his heart as he reported for transfer and deploy. Maybe he could keep New Alexandria from happening again, or die trying. New Alexandria [Planet Description] A desert world rich in mineral resources, New Alexandria had massive wormlike creatures that violently protected any of the rich mineral veins present in the sand sand rocky outcroppings. Mechs would spend many days hunting down these Rockworms, drawn to mining operations, leading to running battles to not only protect the mining operations, but put down the massive worms for the resources and research their corpses also yielded. The need for flexibility in all approaches, both mining unusual locations and fighting Rockworms and other, lesser in scale but not in threat, creatures meant that any native design was, first and foremost, heavily modular. An entire design philosophy of "Why build an entirely new thing when you can just modify a working frame" meant that one could see similarities across entire spectrums of machines and equipment. [Culture] The culture of New Alexandria has two distinct groups of people. The workers, and the military. The workers form a significant majority of the population of New Alexandria and the supporting worlds in the system, spending most of their lives working and manufacturing, designing in coordination with the military, and keeping the engines of not just their system but surrounding ones fueled and running smoothly. The military pervades all life, that each person has their place in the system and they should be proud to serve. Be it hunting threats across the planet, or as the Aberrants came and overran garrison after garrison, fighting for the very survival of their people, soldiers who weren't present or forced to evacuate continue to prove an innate professionalism and stubborn pride. As a whole they are hard to convince to withdraw or back down, leading to higher than necessary casualties during the fall of New Alexandria. Notable Contacts [Name] Senior Chief Boyd Hancock [Relation to Subject] Long Term Superior, Mentor [Analysis] Senior Chief Boyd Hancock is a career Mech pilot. Also originating from New Alexandria, Hancock would first meet Howe as he was training to become a pilot himself. Hancock, a Petty Officer at the time, agreed to let Howe ride along for training purposes, and took a shine to the inexperienced recruit. The fall of New Alexandria did not rest easily on Hancock, but he could see it did far worse to Howe, who he recommended be accelerated through the remainder of the Mech training program and kept a close eye on him as they initially spent deployments in the same squad. Hancock would receive promotion to Chief Petty Officer, and from there Senior Chief Petty Officer while Howe would eventually throw himself into increasingly dangerous deployments. Hancock did not deploy nearly as often anymore, his senior rank relegating him to more rearguard and reserve positions, a just in case incredibly experienced pilots were needed in a hurry and all other elements were committed. Hancock is often described as a 'cunning old rat', having told off the last person who called him a fox. Having spent his long career in the military, Hancock knows the ins and outs of how to work the system to get things done, navigating deftly enough that its a running gamble whether he is more dangerous on or off the battle field. Officially he acts above board, but in practice, Hancock spends plenty of time cutting deals and organizing things to actually get done, red tape be damned. He looks out for Howe when he can, feeling for the younger pilot and wanting to see him last long enough to see things turn around at least. Until then, however, Senior Chief Hancock will keep doing his best to keep everything in his reach moving and running as smoothly as possible, and give the Aberrant as much resistance as can be mustered. [Name] Petty Officer Sabine Dassault-Delacroix [Relation to Subject] Fellow Pilot, (Reluctant) Drinking Buddy [Analysis] Howe first crossed paths with Petty Officer Sabine during mech born operations, maneuvering and keeping up with her dare devil tactics and engagement methods, both of which suited the aggressive, danger seeking nature of Howe just fine. He had not paid the comm chatter much mind, maintaining a professional demeanor throughout the operation. What caught him off guard was getting, in his words, ambushed outside the hanger by Sabine, who promptly dragged him off to celebrate the victory with a shopping spree. The fact he had no money for such was apparently overlooked as he was not given the opportunity to even offer to pay for his own drinks, let alone anything else. It was a very confusing experience, even if it was a rare night that didn't end up with his balance dangerously low from heavy drinking, and started what seemed to be a trend of crossing paths, either on or off duty, and ending up following the eccentric and high energy Sabine around as she insisted he come along with her latest spree, be it spending or pub crawl, and while he continues to make obligatory complaints, does not make any significant attempts to really fend off the free drinks.

Blades of Iron Roses: An Anime-Inspired Knight RP

"You are satisfied. How wonderful, we've satisfied a dragon."

Rolan heard the rumbling response as he mentally went over how the events had played out from his vantage point, muttering under his breath as he walked the distance back towards the group. He had already dismissed the massive cake, though it did cause him to briefly take a double take to make sure he hadn't lost his mind. Some faerie, that explained enough of the situation that he didn't consider it further. Ser Fionn and Gertrude had decided to join forces to try and joust Thrinax from the broomstick. If she proved more amenable to teamwork he might have to consider taking advantage of the vantage of aerial maneuvers. Granted, that relied on the mage having a sudden change of character, so he wasn't going to hold his breath there. Still, having the option of vertical control was something most foes would not be able to react immediately to. Useful trick, that.

Ser Fionn, meanwhile, was probably the brains behind the entire trick. Gertrude didn't strike him as one who would casually suggest charging down a dragon when she was in control. Add in the fact he had conjured up a weapon capable and suited to the maneuver, and that practically was all that needed to be considered. Rolan might have to ask him how he managed to goad the mage into not only being useful, but riding headlong into potential death by dragon's fire. If it wasn't for another's actions, he would simply credit them as the ones to land the blow that convinced Thrinax to turn over the victory to the Roses.

Ser Gerard. He had, even over the distance before focusing himself, heard the knight's rebuke of Thrinax's demand for valor. Rather than evade and flee, like Rolan had done, to a safer firing position, or rely on magic or anything else of the sort, the man had simply bore the brunt of the dragon's wrath and struck back. If asked, Rolan would have to credit the blow that succeeded to him, even if it would prove, in any other circumstance, dangerously costly. The mage might be able to heal such wounds, but if that wasn't an option it would be a slow, painful, but victorious death. Still, it was more valorous than any other knight so that would be that. Not that he was going to say it out loud at this point in time, but it was something that would have to alter his mental ordering of the knights. He knelt down, unslinging his pack of supplies, reorganizing and beginning to work on improving his access to all his supplies, not just the 'useful' ones, keeping his hands busy as he mused.

Ser...Vier, that took a second for him to remember, and Ser Renar both acted well enough. Ser Vier had made to wound the dragon's foot, not where Rolan would have considered striking but he could see a logic of sorts there. Wound its foot, and coupled with the other knight's actions, its ability to move would be crippled. Ser Renar had made an effort to climb the dragon and strike at the wing, reinforcing that many of the knights looked at a call for valor as not so much a challenge as an insult, given their immediate approaches to fighting a dragon, let alone Thrinax. Climbing a dragon was brazen, though hard to compare to what some of the others chose to do.

The Captain's decision to advance and meet Thrinax head on was brazen. A damn fool maneuver, but brazen all the same. If he had so desired, no doubt Thrinax could have cost the Roses their Captain, something that a foe not holding back might have done. Ser Fleuri joined Renar in his attacks on the wings, improving the odds of pulling off the attack. Another clambering knight, then, but it seemed to have worked all the same. Most of the knights had performed admirably, even the mage had proven begrudgingly useful, to be expected of the Roses. He finished reorganizing his pack, and turned to focus his attention on the Witch as she mentioned using Volkstraad instead, and a counter that the 'snake' would never agree to any terms.

"Cake aside, what now? The three tests are done, how long before we are sent back to the world proper?" Rolan had a lot to prepare beyond this place, and even more to consider. At this point he was starting to think he had had his fill of this place.

The Things We Fight For

Fashionably late, that's me.

Solomon Howe

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx B A S I C I N F O [Name] Solomon Howe [Callsign] Dunkirk [Gender] Male [Age] 29 [Rank and Designation] Petty Officer [Place of Birth] New Alexandria, Alexandria Colonial System [Official Statement] "Doesn't matter if we're surrounded. Reactors good, still got ammo, means we get to take a few more with us. Lucky us." C O M B A T A B I L I T Y [Mech Model] Brose Arsenal Mk VI Victoria Universal Chassis [Type] Modular Vanguard Unit [Size] 45' Tall, 35 Tons with heaviest Armament Package. [Core] N/A (See Brose Arsenal Fusion Reactor) [Armaments] Brose Arsenal Fusion Reactor - Designed as an answer to a question no one else is asking, no official Brose Arsenal designed and manufactured Mech mounts any sort of Aberrant Core power system. They continue to, rather stubbornly, maintain conventional power sources despite the drawbacks they entail. One upside, however, was that not needing any sort of Aberrant material meant they had literally no restraint on production, not that it was an issue due to the overwhelming Aberrant war on humanity as a whole. Lacking the longevity of Aberrant cores, the Brose Arsenal Fusion Reactor is none the less capable of maintaining combat levels of energy output for extended periods of time compared to almost any other conventional source of energy, being commonly referred to as "The best of second place" by anyone who examines the blueprints for a Brose Arsenal design. Confoundingly, the entire chassis was designed explicitly to draw from a conventional Fusion reactor, ideally Brose Arsenal design, meaning attempts to retrofit Mk VI chassis that survived the fall of New Alexandria have not been worth the effort. External Co-Pilot Module (ECPM) - Originally a trainer module, then modified for field use when Aberrants began their all out extermination of humanity, the Co-Pilot module allows for a second pilot, soldier, or later on Constellation deployment, the ECPM has two modes. Co-Pilot mode allows the rider to operate the secondary weapon that is typically mounted to the ECPM, provide targeting data, and otherwise support the pilot in operations. VIP mode locks out all controls except the hatch and comms to the pilot, though the latter can be shut off if need be, to prevent interference if the passenger is not trained in either piloting or mech combat overall. Modularity - The Mk VI was designed to, either prior to deployment or, when circumstances allow, at forward operating bases and other secure locations that a hot swap can be performed. While the original founderies have long since stopped designing and producing Packages for the Victoria line of mechs, mostly due to their loss to Aberrant advances on humanity, it is possible that other packages can be salvaged or produced. Below are the current options available to Howe's Mk VI. Without a package loaded, the frame lacks any innate weaponry besides the force a mech can produce throwing punches or grabbing and slamming threats, though all package armaments can be ejected if speed is needed. CQB Package - A standard go to for Howe, the CQB Package up armors the Mk VI in anticipation of urban and close quarters combat not allowing room to evade attacks. Weapons wise, the primary weapon is a combat shotgun loaded with buckshot, although the package supports bringing specialty ammunition should the need arise. Secondary weapons include reinforced manipulators for close quarters fighting, and a backpack mounted 20mm autocannon for suppressing and bringing down large numbers of lower grade Aberrants. The package has several Fragmentation Grenades that are hip mounted, lacking impact against targets with sufficient protection but can provide breathing room when Aberrants or other targets lack sufficient protection. Assault Package - The original universal package, the Assault package is the lightest current package, giving it the highest innate speed without jettisoning weapons. Its primary weapon is a belt fed heavy assault rifle, ammo stored in an ejectable compartment mounted below the ECPM, removing the need to reload mid fight but running the risk of overheating. The secondary weapon is an air burst mortar system, capable of either detonating based on proximity or on a timed fuse, as set by either pilot or, if available, co-pilot. This package has several adhesive grenades, latching onto a target before detonating with sheer explosive force, lacking shrapnel or anything otherwise unusual. Recce Package - Designed for observation and longer range support, the Recce package sees less use than the other two and mounts an enhanced suite of sensors and targeting systems, specifically designed to assist other mechs in targeting and tracking enemies. The primary weapon is a large Designated Marksman Rifle, rounds originally an attempt to overpower Barriers prior to AB materials that, while a complete and total failure, have been repurposed for defeating more conventional defenses and protections. The secondary weapon is a Point Defense machine gun, while the weight saved from other, heavier weapons and ammunition storage taken up instead by data analysis and scanning systems, heavily reliant on a co-pilot to take full advantage of.

Profile [Surface-level Impression] Petty Officer Solomon Howe finds himself always more at ease behind the controls of his Mk VI Mech, nicknamed "Vickie", than he does almost any other time. He is professional on duty, always pushing himself and his frame harder and harder in combat scenarios and while carrying out his duties in support of the Constellations. Under fire he is calm and collected, more concerned about getting the job done than earning glory or going out of his way to cause trouble for himself or others. He has no regard for his own safety, however, having zero qualms with putting his Mech directly in the line of fire if it means accomplishing the mission. Off duty, Howe struggles a great deal with a cocktail of survivor's guilt and a general lack of hope in the future of mankind. He smokes heavily, drinks constantly, and does little to foster connections with his fellow service members. He doesn't go out of his way to alienate or drive them off, but his dreary outlook can be difficult to breach. Under the alcohol and tobacco abuse, he doesn't enjoy thinking the only way out is dying on his feet, but doesn't see any other way that this ends. The Constellations are too few and far between, the Aberrant numerous to the point of absurdity, and as far as he can tell Earth doesn't seem to care. It is always the colonial holdings that suffer the consequences, something that does very much rub him the wrong way. He is willing to get into fights for his fellow service members, especially when its people who haven't ever seen a combat zone. [Personal History] Solomon Howe was born on the world of New Alexandria, part of a family who had regular career presence in the military. Unlike some families, however, they never particularly cared for or even discussed it as anything else as just another part of living on the world they did. You were either a soldier or a worker, and the Howe family were always soldiers. Solomon was raised with the expectation that he would be a soldier as well, and sure enough once of age he would enlist into the Mech piloting program the planet maintained, assigning him to ride as a co-pilot during training operations with the then Petty Officer First Class Boyd Hancock. Three years into his training and efforts to become a Mech pilot the Aberrant would arrive in the Alexandria Colonial System, sparking a sudden rush to defend against the incoming horde of monstrous invaders. The system would be caught off guard, no signs of Aberrant interest having been shown before their arrival, delaying the response of the Constellations that were available. The planetary garrisons organized evacuations to New Alexandria itself, condensing all available military might there. Emergency authorization allowed experienced trainees to join their instructors in live combat, and Howe would remember vividly, often when trying to sleep, the comms chatter and panic as he manned the co-pilot seat of Hancock's Mk VI Mech. Constellations arrived on New Alexandria, the most senior Mech pilots joining to escort and guard them in an effort to stem the tide. The effort to condense all available military resources in the system turned out to be a double edged sword. While it concentrated the military capabilities, it also surrendered most of the system to the Aberrant and concentrate [i]their[/i] efforts against New Alexandria. It was here that Howe saw just how hopeless things were. Even with concentrated Mech support, Constellations were getting slowly overrun and dragged down, Mechs often going down alongside their charges, trying to buy them scant seconds more to escape. No AB weapons were lost, the military forces were able to see to that, but the time came to evacuate all remaining combat personnel, as civilians were long since evacuated after the first Constellation death. Howe was among those evacuating, alongside Hancock, who had promised that Howe would finish his training and inherit the man's Mk VI while he moved on to another Mech. Howe agreed, despite the sinking feeling of having watched the grandest heroes of humanity ground into the mud like common infantry. Still, he didn't bring it up during evaluations, and was approved to continue Mech pilot training. Petty Officer Howe, after finishing the formality of training, would spend the next nine years volunteering for the most dangerous missions he could get authorized to go on. The memory of his home world getting overrun and torn to shreds and some thought he wanted to prevent that from happening again. His off duty life proved to be rather unremarkable, concerns that he got into a few fights but no charges were ever pressed and disciplinary action never came up after the fact. Howe would defend the fights he got into as defending fellow service members, though the recently promoted Chief Hancock would usually keep things more on the hush hush, as losing a good pilot over nonsense off duty would be a damn waste. Still, Howe kept pushing further and further into more dangerous missions. Each time he returned, he registered more damage than other pilots, on average, something that was noted in his service record. Howe refused any sort of psychological evaluation, pointing out time and again they couldn't afford to have pilots taken off the line just because they were aggressively carrying out orders. His on duty actions never warranted enough concern to have him evaluated, some people mistaking the zeal for making up for a lost home world, and was quick to accept when the next volunteer only mission came up that he was offered a position on. It was how he ended up supporting Constellations directly, not caring about the details of his next assignment, just caring it put him further towards the next battlefield. He was informed it would be escort duty for Constellations responding to another system that had been caught off guard by the Aberrant, a cold pit of Deja Vu in his heart as he reported for transfer and deploy. Maybe he could keep New Alexandria from happening again, or die trying. New Alexandria [Planet Description] A desert world rich in mineral resources, New Alexandria had massive wormlike creatures that violently protected any of the rich mineral veins present in the sand sand rocky outcroppings. Mechs would spend many days hunting down these Rockworms, drawn to mining operations, leading to running battles to not only protect the mining operations, but put down the massive worms for the resources and research their corpses also yielded. The need for flexibility in all approaches, both mining unusual locations and fighting Rockworms and other, lesser in scale but not in threat, creatures meant that any native design was, first and foremost, heavily modular. An entire design philosophy of "Why build an entirely new thing when you can just modify a working frame" meant that one could see similarities across entire spectrums of machines and equipment. [Culture] The culture of New Alexandria has two distinct groups of people. The workers, and the military. The workers form a significant majority of the population of New Alexandria and the supporting worlds in the system, spending most of their lives working and manufacturing, designing in coordination with the military, and keeping the engines of not just their system but surrounding ones fueled and running smoothly. The military pervades all life, that each person has their place in the system and they should be proud to serve. Be it hunting threats across the planet, or as the Aberrants came and overran garrison after garrison, fighting for the very survival of their people, soldiers who weren't present or forced to evacuate continue to prove an innate professionalism and stubborn pride. As a whole they are hard to convince to withdraw or back down, leading to higher than necessary casualties during the fall of New Alexandria. Notable Contacts [Name] Senior Chief Boyd Hancock [Relation to Subject] Long Term Superior, Mentor [Analysis] Senior Chief Boyd Hancock is a career Mech pilot. Also originating from New Alexandria, Hancock would first meet Howe as he was training to become a pilot himself. Hancock, a Petty Officer at the time, agreed to let Howe ride along for training purposes, and took a shine to the inexperienced recruit. The fall of New Alexandria did not rest easily on Hancock, but he could see it did far worse to Howe, who he recommended be accelerated through the remainder of the Mech training program and kept a close eye on him as they initially spent deployments in the same squad. Hancock would receive promotion to Chief Petty Officer, and from there Senior Chief Petty Officer while Howe would eventually throw himself into increasingly dangerous deployments. Hancock did not deploy nearly as often anymore, his senior rank relegating him to more rearguard and reserve positions, a just in case incredibly experienced pilots were needed in a hurry and all other elements were committed. Hancock is often described as a 'cunning old rat', having told off the last person who called him a fox. Having spent his long career in the military, Hancock knows the ins and outs of how to work the system to get things done, navigating deftly enough that its a running gamble whether he is more dangerous on or off the battle field. Officially he acts above board, but in practice, Hancock spends plenty of time cutting deals and organizing things to actually get done, red tape be damned. He looks out for Howe when he can, feeling for the younger pilot and wanting to see him last long enough to see things turn around at least. Until then, however, Senior Chief Hancock will keep doing his best to keep everything in his reach moving and running as smoothly as possible, and give the Aberrant as much resistance as can be mustered.

Blades of Iron Roses: An Anime-Inspired Knight RP

"Really?!"

Rolan was, by this point, unable to keep the frustration with the situation under wraps. He hadn't expected his shots to land home so easily, but the borderline ridiculous whirling the dragon Thrinax engaged in that threw off every attempted attack, the gale force of the movement staggering both him, and sending his bolts hurtling who knows where, the knight sized up the situation while recovering his footing, staying out of reach of claw and flame. He was one the right side of the dragon to evade the flame, fortunately, but the attacks on the others continued regardless. Crushing tail, honed claw, off balancing movements and shudders, and the only sign of the mage was her playing at a glorified chauffer of one of the better knights of the band. Observing the situation, he was reminded once again of the fact that, as far as he was concerned, he was almost comically out of his element. It was time to take stock of his options, moving back further into the shadowy underbrush, valor be damned.

Approaching and engaging in close was pointless, even with enchantment getting his knife in under a dragon scale was the best Rolan could hope to do. Take shots at the glittering hide? Sure, trust that he could pierce the hide enough to actually inflict injury. Alchemical supplies? The alchemist fire would just blind and endanger his fellows without getting through the hide, and his ability to land a blow on vitals would defeat the purpose of a loaded bolt. Same with the caustic smoke, if he had any vials of that left. The rest was poison, which all looped back to landing a blow in the first place. He furrowed his brow, staring at the scales on Thrinax as he moved and fought, his fellow knights engaging how they saw fit, his mind flitted back to the enchantment. Yes, he could rely on that, but frankly? He struggled to allow himself to. There was no promise that, should they have to cross paths with a dragon under circumstances worse than these, he would have a means to just punch through dragonscale. That assumed the enchantment even allowed his bolts to pass through the scale, but trying to pepper Thrinax with bolts was just going to empty his reserves into the whipping winds that each movement of the wings produced.

Settling further back, further out of reach, he moved beyond what most crossbowman would consider a reasonable or comfortable range. If Rolan could not make his strikes from within reasonable range, he would make them from unreasonable range. He kept low, settling into a shooting position, but didn't immediately open fire. He grabbed the most potent poison he had brewed, back when he thought they had to kill the dragon. Valor be damned, he wasn't going to ever soar to the same heights as the other knights in terms of status and station, so why restrain himself? He grabbed a bodkin tipped bolt, the best one he had and the one with the best odds of piercing dragon scale, even slightly. Thrinax be damned, he was not going to simply play along with the contest like the dragon presented it now. Loading the bolt and spanning his crossbow, he took his time aiming. Enchantments be damned, all he trusted at this point in time was his own capabilities, regardless if they were up for the task or not.

Rolan would have to trust the others to hold as he set up his shot, the winds that Thrinax whipped up spinning rendered trying to overwhelm with volume of fire pointless. Steadying his breath, almost to a complete still, he blocked out the sounds of combat, of the rumble of the dragon's voice, everything except his own heart. Steady, steady, slow, slower, panic would unsteady his hand, worry about consequences would unsteady his hand. Watching with nothing acknowledged but the sound of his own heart, he only loosed the bolt when the wings were slowing, preparing to move again but still arresting the last movement that would whip up winds to throw off incoming attacks. He was still aiming for a weak point, not the eye at this distance, but he was looking to land his shot somewhere the dragonscale should, if he was lucky, be thin enough to penetrate. He didn't need the bolt to wound, just to deliver the poison he had coated the bolt in, that would be wound enough. Thrinax could demand that the knights show valor all he wanted, but Rolan wasn't here to be valorous. He was here to wound a dragon or die trying. Let the others argue about how their actions hadn't been valor enough already.

The Things We Fight For, A Science Fantasy Space Opera

Got me some ideas for a Pilot already, sure as sure.

Blades of Iron Roses: An Anime-Inspired Knight RP

Rolan observed the knights scatter and take to their strategies. A lot of going to ground and staying low, though a trio was moving on Thrinax as he moved rather casually down the hill, noting the flying duo, before turning his attention back towards who was visible. The Captain had not gone to ground, whether that was because she had not had the time to go to ground, or because of some other reason, some foolhardy effort to prove herself maybe, didn't matter. He couldn't do anything to prevent that, but he had to hope the other knights would be able to intervene more directly to draw Thrinax's attention. At this point Rolan had stopped moving, settling into a low crouching position, putting himself into the most stable position he could to line up his shot. The dragon's movement was slow, for now, but he wasn't going to waste his shot yet.

Rolan settled his breathing, quelling his nerves and concerns, pushing everything out of his mind except the basics. Pick his target, the eye. He didn't trust the witch's enchantment to let his crossbow bypass glittering scale, and he watched every twitch, every movement, the subtle motions of the head as Thrinax gauged his surroundings, chose his target in the Captain, tracking every detail he could in the time span he had to work. He would take aim with his crossbow, slow in comparison to his rapid volume of shots earlier in the challenges they had faced, clamping down hard on his misgivings, his nerves, every concern and what if racing in the back of his head. Now was not the time to doubt and panic, he could do that later when he had time alone to ruminate. Slow his breathing, force himself into a state of absolute control over himself, for as brief a period as needed.

He couldn't loose his shot while Thrinax remained unengaged, such a small target was easy to shield and guard. No, he had to wait until the Captain was in the greatest danger, under direct attack, and sure enough the blistering speed at which the dragon covered ground would have certainly thrown off any shot he had made prior. Instead, as the claw came down, Rolan exhaled and let loose his crossbow bolt, not waiting to see if it connected or not. With his first shot loosed, and position revealed if it hadn't been before, Rolan began moving and firing as fast as he could span the crossbow, only pausing his movement to draw aim and fire again. After the first shot, he was attempting to keep Thrinax from being able to leave the weaker spots exposed, distracting rather than outright going for killshots, well, wounding shots rather since a single crossbow bolt to the eye wouldn't fell a dragon, let alone Thrinax. If he was shooting to kill he would be poisoning his bolts, but right now that was not necessary. A solid enough shot that would allow poison to work would also count as wounding the dragon he suspected. But for now, focus on putting enough bolts towards Thrinax to, if he was lucky, distract. If he was luckier, maybe even wound Thrinax.

Blades of Iron Roses: An Anime-Inspired Knight RP

Rolan, if he were a less patient man, might have snapped rather harshly at the Witch's apprentice who had proven to be just as difficult to work with, especially in getting to cooperate, and was now blatantly goading the Captain in an attempted guilt trip. She warranted a close eye to begin with, now more so than before, but fortunately Fionn intervened to deal with her antics instead. Good, as he stepped alongside the captain and spoke plainly, though quietly enough to not be overheard by the spoiled child of an apprentice. "We've done well so far thanks to your leadership Captain. Regardless of her intentions and childish games, we'll see this done. No matter how things twist once the final challenge begins in earnest, you always do adapt well to what's to come, and we all stand with you."

Of course, things were never so simple as to begin plainly, the Witch intervening with her own alterations to the impending fight with a dragon. No, that was not fair, a dragon grossly underestimated Thrinax. Volkstraad he may not be, but Rolan had no intention on underestimating such a figure. Rolan was staring down at Thrinax's position the entire time the Witch spoke, waiting patiently for either the order to engage, or for the dragon to act. The settling night suited him fine, he thrived far more in the dark, skulking and hunting, than he ever did in an honest battle formation. Even after agreeing to join the Roses, that hadn't changed much. The runecraft the Witch weaved didn't matter, it didn't change his tactic or approach. Evade, watch for an opening, blind the beast, end the contest. Of course, that was easier said than done by a wide margin, as the shimmering mass of scales moved his thoughts interrupted as he darted forward, barking a word of warning alongside the Witch chiming in.

"MOVE!" Rolan's path was inefficient compared to just a straight path down the hill, trying to distance himself from the rest of the Roses, and as the hill was bathed in fire he glanced back to see his own cloak already partially ablaze from the near miss of dragon's fire. A quick movement with his dagger cut the burning cloak free, turning hard and moving away from the direction the burning remains of his cloak were being carried in the night. He kept low, moving to keep himself both blended into the darkness on the ground and not draw attention to either himself or other knights. He had to wait for his opening, simply firing from a seemingly concealed position was foolish, the longer he went without drawing attention to himself, the easier it was to forget him. The moonless sky, illuminated though it was by stars and nebulae, would have to give him enough concealment to avoid Thrinax's wrath until he could take a confident shot at the eye or throat. Gauging how long he had between the mouth opening and fire spilling out would do well, if the opportunity arose. Until then Rolan would keep low and in the shadows as much as he could, watching his fellow knights and how they arranged themselves before committing himself to any course of action.

Pariah Online

Rolan

R O L A N
R O L A N

^{“Now why would we rush, there's still so much to see and do here.”}

C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T _________________________________________________________ C H A R A C T E R D A T A C H A R A C T E R D A T A _________________________________________________________ True Self Lorenz Ferber Persona Rolan Pathos Queon Role Burst DPS/Controller Weapon of Choice Estoc Domains Light Illusion Frost Manifestation Playstyle & Attitude Counterattacker - In tandem with his Controller role via Illusion and Manifestation magics, Rolan specializes in deflecting and evading incoming attacks, each failed blow increasing the instability in the foe's stance and approach. Whether this is literally in their stance, or in their mounting frustration with the defensive playstyle varies, but Rolan rarely strikes with his sword unless he can ensure a critical blow. He maintains aggression with Manifestation based attacks, supported by his illusions. Controller - Rolan deploys a combination of light infused illusions and frost manifestations to make actual navigation and targeting of himself, and allies by coincidence, difficult. Whether its using flashes of light to dazzle and disorentate, illusions to obfuscate his movements and actions, or mixing manifestation magic with either of his elemental choices, Rolan plays to narrow a threat's ability to maneuver and act, forcing them into a position where they have to start taking hits. Loremaster Nerd - Rolan has always had an obsession with exploring the lore of Pariah Online. Whether it was getting all the information he reasonably could from NPCs, digging through descriptions of items, locations, and everything he could get his hands on. He would regularly wander off to just explore the land, looking for any sites of interest. Anything he could find to add to his ever growing collection of journals, notes, and scribblings as he gathered first what was told to him (and by extension the player base), and then began theory crafting and trying to fill in the gaps between what has been made apparent or confirmed. Both in game and outside of it, he would post his findings and theories, maintaining an online presence as one of the players obsessed with the lore in a game. ♬

L O R E N Z F E R B E R - D R U D G E R Y I N M O T I O N L O R E N Z F E R B E R - D R U D G E R Y I N M O T I O N ________________________________________________________________________________________ Lorenz was never exactly what one would call a stand out individual. In his youth, he maintained perfectly serviceable grades, never anything to be ashamed of but nothing to brag about either. It wasn't for a lack of trying at first either, pushing himself even when he felt no engagement with anything in his scholastic efforts growing up. But regardless of effort, he always maintained the same level of acceptable results, so he stopped applying himself. His social life was healthy, if a bit dull, and he had the usual routine of heartbreak that young love would bring. By the end of his high school, he had chosen to go to a trade school instead of college or straight into a career, the most inspired choice he had yet made in life. Trade School went well for Lorenz, finding a knack for identifying impending problems, fixing them, and maintaining most anything he could get his hands on. It was the first time he had ever truly excelled at anything, which was an odd feeling for the young man as he graduated from his trade school and moved into a career helping maintain infrastructure critical equipment. It wasn't hard work, not for him at any rate, but he noticed very quickly that he never developed a rapport with his coworkers. No matter how many times he went out to company functions or after work drinks, he never felt any particular connection with them, and the feeling was mutual. He was professional, a model worker, but when the shift ended, he would simply go home. It was during this tedium of routine that Lorenz would hear about the upcoming Pariah Online, and something about it grabbed him and would not let go. He had plenty of money saved up, having few hobbies to spend any real money on, immediately investing in the game and required equipment to be able to log in and play as best as he could. There was something about the idea of immersing himself in a world that was completely unknown, that he would have to learn from scratch, that was itching something in the back of his mind that he had forgotten was ever there. An urge to learn, and maybe this time he would actually be good at it. R O L A N - O B S E S S I O N M A D E M A N I F E S T R O L A N - O B S E S S I O N M A D E M A N I F E S T ________________________________________________________________________________________ Rolan, as he chose his persona to be, is an old soul in Pariah Online, as far as one can be at any rate given the current amount of time the game has been up and running. He had joined as soon as he could at launch, but where some players became legends in raiding, in the art of PvP, Rolan found himself with a new feeling of obsession that he had never had to properly grapple with before. He couldn't tear himself away from the world itself, the stories, folklore, history that preceded the arrival of Wayfarers. He never wanted for companions, when needed, but his eccentric obsession with lore made him few permanent, long lasting connections. He would hop from guild to guild, party to party, never sticking around for too long. Rolan was always chasing the latest rumor, the latest missing gap between the lore of the world. He spent as much of his free time on forums and creating video essays on the lore of the world of Pariah Online as he did exploring it and improving as a player. He went to whatever content was needed, be it PvP, Raiding, delving dungeons or just wandering the world itself. He never saw anything in borders or sticking to any one activity, instead sometimes spending days of time in game simply pouring over every source of lore he could find, talking with both fellow lore enthusiasts, when they crossed paths, as well as digging through all the information he could from NPCs. Whenever a credible sighting of something new or unusual was posted or discussed, it was a fairly sure thing among the community that Rolan would not be far behind, carrying an ever growing collection of journals, notes, and books that he kept at his own player home when too dense or not relevant to what he was investigating this time. Sometimes he was recruited for a raid or battleground, given he was still a highly experienced player and one could not find all the lore simply in safety behind town walls and his eye for detail translated to a deadly accuracy in a fight, but he could sometimes be difficult to focus on the right task. He didn't care for the rewards of the content at times, seeing the story said content told as far higher value, and would sometimes take on sidequests and other minor content well below him just to review something he might have missed in the lore of it, however slight. Rolan was a man obsessed, having finally found a calling in life that spoke to him beyond just the day to day drudgery of his real world life. He was further isolated from that life than ever before, and while his performance at work didn't suffer, his coworkers noted he was even more distant than usual. A few had tried to talk to him, but his focus on a game none of them cared about made it even harder to connect. So Rolan would continue to descend into Pariah Online, only caring about the real world in as much as it was necessary to keep funding his access to what he truly enjoyed, and found he excelled in, at long last. Even if it was an eccentric field of interest, someone had to know the story of Pariah Online, even if only a fraction of the players cared.

---

Spells & Spell-like Abilities

Hall of Mirrors - A mixture of light and illusion magic that Rolan is fond of, he utilizes his magical grasp on Light to bend it, removing him from immediate view while, at the same time, creating a number of false clones of himself. While they lack substance and can be dispelled in a single blow, shattering one of these mirrors is often accompanied by a flash of light that can leave unaware foes blinded, and even those ready for it dazzled and struggling to see briefly. More effective against singular targets, and notably ineffective against those that do not rely on sight. If he doesn't want to rely on Light, he can use Frost magic instead to cause the mirror image to burst in a cloud of frigid cold, sapping energy and stamina from those caught in the burst for as long as they stay in it, or until it fades.

Whiteout - Manifesting a field of frigid Frost and dotting it with orbs of Light, Rolan creates a field that is nigh impossible to see in, the Frost sapping the stamina and energy of those trapped in it, while the motes of Light that circle within the storm make it more disorientating and difficult to escape. While Rolan himself cannot enter the manifested storm safely, it creates good cover for escapes, maneuvering, or simply softening up a target before it escapes or the spell expires on its own. Rolan could maintain the spell for longer than the initial burst requires, however such a thing would prove increasingly taxing over time.

Lantern's Lure - A purely utilitarian spell, Rolan can manifest a number of orbs of Light, anchoring each of them over the shoulders of himself and a number of other people. These orbs let off soft light in most directions, but a beam of stronger light in the direction that the person looks at any given time. Rolan developed the spell purely because he got tired of having to keep a torch or lantern handy at any given time and would rather simply have a light source that tracked where he looked at any given time. The fact that it was trivial to expand the number to include allies was mostly coincidental.

Frost Light Arsenal - An entire set of spells designed to compensate for his far more defensive and patient swordplay, and for dealing with foes that are too large or dangerous to simply duel at close range, the Frost Light Arsenal is as close to a unique creation as Rolan ever gets when it comes to his combat capabilities. Utilizing Manifestation as its core, he can form a variety of temporary Frost or Light constructs, be it sharpened pillars rising from the ground or projectiles to launch at nearby targets. His favorite is a series of blade shaped forms that orbit him, providing both a barrier and a weapon to launch as needed. Using Light magic typically is less directly harmful, but the pattern and hues of the Light often are difficult to see past, while Frost magic is more directly damaging, though even split between stamina and actual physical well being.

Character Feats

Stance of Deflection - Rolan's method of swordplay lends itself to his entire approach to Pariah Online. Observe, record, and determine what it all means before delivering a thesis on a matter. In a fight, his fighting style revolves around deflecting, parrying, and patiently learning and observing his opponent. When settled into his Stance, it takes a great deal of force or skill to completely bypass his defense. The entire purpose is to draw a foe into more aggressive and, by extension, more exposed attacks until a critical flaw can be found. Then, much like his lore research, Rolan delivers a critical blow to a vital spot in his foe. The more enemies he fights at once, however, the less effective this becomes as he cannot as readily focus on any one foe long enough to deliver critical strikes, his blows less dangerous than if allowed to focus.

An Eye for Knowledge - Rolan cannot, despite his efforts, profess to know everything there is to know, fortunately for him. However, all his time spent gleaning everything he can from sometimes fragmented and especially under duress or other less than ideal circumstances makes him a natural at picking out details. Be it a faulty piece of construction, an old wound that could be targeted on a foe, or even a rare material easily overlooked, Rolan has a naturally high perception and awareness of his surroundings, making it difficult to ever catch him off guard or conceal things from him.

Methodical - Both a flaw and a boon, Rolan has a very particular, and measured approach to all things. Fights with him, by his own dictate, are measured and steady, moving at particular paces. Exploration, down time, all things have a very measured, controlled, and steady pattern to them. When in his element, Rolan is naturally more capable at what he puts his mind to, however being forced out of this by circumstance can be off putting and leave him on the back foot should he not adapt to this new pace or circumstance.

Lore of the World - Having spent his entire time in game towards the purpose of learning about the world he is in, Rolan has a near photographic memory for anything that happens to catch his eye when exploring, fighting, or otherwise spending his time in Pariah Online. He is also proud to state that he actually understands the world that existed before the existence of the players in it better than nearly anyone else who isn't a part of the world itself, instinctively treating the people of the world appropriate to who they are as people rather than just as NPCs in a game.

Blades of Iron Roses: An Anime-Inspired Knight RP

If Rolan had his crossbow at this point he would have been sorely tempted to consider Lady Gertrude an active barrier to accomplishing their goal. The massive, whirling firestorm was probably some sort of attempt to blind or impede the Hundi's efforts to stop the knights from ascending the hill. Glancing back, he got a good look at the daemoness leveling a truly impressive looking crossbow before realizing that the other knights had reached the top of the hill. Fortunate for him, at least, as he began heading down to retrieve his crossbow, moving at a brisk jog. The Hundi cleaned up the firestorm, giving him time to fetch his crossbow and regroup with the rest of the knights, checking over his weapon to make sure the tumble hadn't damaged it in a way that would impact its capability as a weapon. Fortunately not, though the damp, heavy fog was thoroughly uncomfortable and left him feeling horribly humid, though he kept his mouth in check for now given how near death he had come during this contest. As much as he disagreed with the act, the Captain and Ser Renar had quite frankly saved him from a certain death. He could complain about that later, since they had gotten lucky with the other knights reaching the top before one of them was laid low.

The Hundi complimented their efforts, noting that most powerful mages, even those with retinues protecting them, would be hard pressed to avoid friendly fire, should they care about it at all. Their ability to avoid such things was at least noteworthy, though Rolan did make a quiet, offhand remark as he set about cleaning his crossbow of the more superficial dirt and grime. "If we have to cross another powerful mage, one would hope the defending retinue doesn't include teleporting daemons, that complicated things a bit."

The Hundi metaphorically dressing down Lady Gertrude would have been more of a sight to behold, if it wasn't for the fact Rolan had a sneaking suspicion that, as far as he had seen her in action, it would only cause her to dig her heels in harder on being a stuck up brat. Still, apparently any further discussion would be held in a few weeks time, referring to the actual world they were fighting to prove they were ready to return to, before sending a signal into the air. A flash of shadow, crimson scales, towards the gates where their last challenge awaited. Thrinax, and all they had to do was injure the dragon. Yes, because just injuring the dragon would be anywhere remotely close to just that easy. Loading his crossbow, his mind raced back to the time he spent planning while everyone else celebrated their progress. First problem, getting Thrinax to stay on the ground. Second, avoid getting wiped out in a focused attack. Third, landing a hit that could wound the dragon through its hide, which he wasn't going to waste crossbow bolts on. He had to aim for the eyes, as difficult as that was going to be.

"Lady Gertrude, you are our best bet to keeping Thrinax grounded, or at least low enough for the rest of the knights to reach. I would recommend that she take to the skies and strike from there, ideally to keep the air contested long enough for the rest of us to reach striking distance. Scatter and approach from as many directions as possible, limit the ability for an attack to take out several of us at once. I would rather not have to assault the hill again. On your command Captain."

Wounding Thrinax, while nominally easier than outright killing the dragon, was not what Rolan had planned for. He expected to have to fight the dragon to the death, and his planning and preparation had revolved around that. Landing one wounding blow should be easier, but it was never going to be that easy. Once the Captain gave out the orders, Rolan would pursue to the best of his ability, though he would be hanging back, watching for openings to land a good shot. He only had to get one good shot in to constitute as wounding the dragon, and he kept his spare alchemical supplies firmly stashed away for now. Wounding was a different objective, and most of the remaining supplies would either not assist in landing the first wound, or would possibly endanger his allies who were approaching in melee. He didn't have any more vials of the caustic smoke on hand, having decided that using it on the Hundi and her daemon was a better use than saving it for Thrinax. All that being said, Rolan was hoping he would not be rushed down into a melee quite so quickly during this final trial.