MightyHorus

A Wizard's Shadow

An unbreakable vow. Percy's eyes never left the caged witch. Was that really how they planned to keep her in check? Through an oath?

One of the Aurors stepped forward - a tanned man with hints of grey in his dark moustache, wearing a long black coat and bowler hat - and extended a hand toward Percy's wand. Reluctantly, he handed it to him. The Auror turned and spoke with a commanding voice to the caged witch. "Give him your arm." He beckoned for Percy to join him beside the cage.

A man who had sat on the lower benches to his left rose and began to limp toward the center. He held a small rectangular box under his arm, which when he opened it revealed a sinister looking wand. The man caught his look and muttered "English oak, phoenix core. It could've been a beautiful thing, really. Such a shame." The old man stared at it with a sad smile, before handing it to the Auror as well.

"Please take her hand Mister Dumas. You'll need to-"

"Yes I know. I've done this before." Percy interjected. He had made many, back when he had worked for Émilie Lévêque as an associate to her Alchemists' guild. Mostly vows that promised secrecy, but sometimes also to make sure that whatever valuable items were transported wouldn't be stolen or sold by the guild's own associates.

The Auror sniffed loudly. "Fine." He took a crumpled piece of paper out of his coat pocket. "These are the vows you're expected to make."

Percy skimmed them quickly, then nodded. "Let's begin." The Auror took both their wands, and placed the tips against their clutched hands. A fiery red-hot wire wound itself around their hands. Percy stared hard at the caged witch. "Will you, Nerissa Wyrmstone, vow not to harm any that I would deem innocent, be it kobold, muggleborn, or otherwise?" His voice was calm and level. "And will you, to the best of your ability, carry out this mission as will be instructed?" He had his doubts there. No one seemed to know exactly what dangers this mission entailed. "Lastly, will you promise not to kill me, or yourself with intent and promise to aid me in completing my mission?"

Once he received her affirmation, Percy was ready to let go. Yet the Auror stopped him. "I'm sorry Mister Dumas, but the prisoner demanded that you hold up your end of the bargain as well." Percy's brow furrowed.

"As long as it's reasonable."

A Wizard's Shadow

- WIP.
- Writing with a small group of friends.

A Wizard's Shadow

The slippery cobblestone pavement glistened under the light that shone from the single lantern standing on the corner of Rue de Besson and Rue du Lièvre. The soft drizzle warranted carrying an umbrella, which the lone man next to the lantern held raised mindlessly. Headlights in the distance prompted him to look on his watch. Even at three in the morning on a Tuesday, it seemed like traffic still occupied the streets of Paris.

Two minutes before three o'clock, actually. But it was best to be on time when you had a portkey to catch. Especially when said portkey was approved by the French ministry for international travel. Still, two minutes was an awfully long time when you had nothing better to do than wait. The man with the umbrella thought so.

One minutes before three o'clock, and he pushed up his watch again to study the second-hand. Magical travel was a precise matter. The kind that had made him hold his breath when the second-hand had almost gone full circle.

Gently, he placed the palm of his hand against the lantern pole.

Three o'clock, and light vanished from the crossing between Rue de Besson and Rue de Lièvre.

The wind howled. The full spectrum of colours swirled around him like a whirlpool. There was no telling what was up and what was down, until his shoes found solid ground again. He staggered back, furiously blinking to make sense of the blurry world around him.

He stood in the center of what struck him as a large dungeon. The walls were made of smooth dark stone and the place was dimly lit by torches. Wooden benches rose on either side of him, occupied with a handful of people. Ahead of him, in the highest benches of all, sat a collection of shadowy figures. The Wizengamot, or so he presumed.

He was glancing at the lantern pole, absently wondering why it still emitted a beam of light, when a level female voice rang across the room. "Are you Jean-Claude Perceval Dumas?"

Idly he closed his umbrella and shook it twice, forming a small puddle of water on the floor. "That would be me, yes." He never liked it when his full name was used. Perceval - or Percy as his few friends called him - was more than enough.

Confirming his identity sent another round of muttering through the fifty-or-so members of the Wizengamot. Some looked cautious and on-guard, others seemed to have relief wash over them. He could make out some of the whispers that came from the benches on either side of him too. Briefly he heard of 'The duel at the Notre Dame-' and 'The vampires of Marseilles'. Both rumours that had turned into overexaggerated tales. The former he had simply survived through a stroke of luck, but the stories had made him out to be the victor. The latter, had been more deception than actual magical prowess - vampires didn't bother to look at mirrors, which made the Hungarian Mirror Trap all the more effective.

"Good. We thank you for coming, mister Dumas. Please take a seat." Percy looked at the empty chair that stood right before the high benches, positioned toward the center of the courtroom. Of course that was where they wanted him - firmly in between them and whomever was summoned next. With a deep sigh he strode toward it, his footsteps echoing loudly as he walked across the stone floor. He placed his umbrella against the side of it and fished his wand out of his pocket before he sat down. It was best to be prepared, even if an unwarranted spell cast in a foreign country could cause serious trouble.

"Now then. Let us begin." All members rose from their high benches. The speaker clapped her hands together, and a large cage came whirling into existence at the center of the courtroom. Six aurors, wands drawn, held on to the sides of the it. The cage itself was just big enough to allow someone to stand inside of it, with spikes facing inward to make movement even more torturous. Percy recognized the thing for what it was immediately, another - much less humane - portkey.

Then, a shrill voice piped up from beside the woman. "The convict summoned before you is Nerissa Wyrmstone." Percy moved to the edge of his seat to study the woman standing inside of it. She herself looked dreadful, with hollow cheeks and her black-and-white striped uniform torn and besmudged. "Two years ago, on the 14th of June in the year 2000, convict ᚨᛟ521 was found guilty of--" the long pause made him look up. "--well, a lot." the man coughed. "The crimes include, but are not limited to theft, destruction of government property, torture of the most heinous sort, murder, and unauthorized casting of the Imperius, Cruciatus, and killing curses." The courtroom was utterly silent. "Convict ᚨᛟ521 is currently serving a life-long sentence to the prison of Azkaban."

"Mister Dumas." Percy snapped out of his thoughts when he heard his name. "As we have informed you per owl, the American, French, and British ministries request your assistance in this… delicate matter." A pause. "As you've decided to join us here tonight, can we count on your cooperation?"

He leaned forward on his chair, hands clasped together, to study the dark witch in the cage once more. Colette… what have you gotten me in this time? He thought to himself. Then he rose, strode forward, and turned to face the Wizengamot. "I will assist you to the best of my ability."

"Then we hereby place Nerissa Wyrmstone in the custody of Jean-Claude Perceval Dumas. An unbreakable vow will be made to bind Miss Wyrmstone to Mister Dumas. Miss Wyrmstone's belongings will be returned to her, and her wand shall be provided to Mister Dumas." A paper independently floated from member to member, gathering the signatures of the Wizengamot. "Your transport to the United States will be arranged as soon as possible."

@Algarus @Posh Raven

Destiny Intertwined - Wheel of Time

Careful not to lose his supper to extending elbows and grand gestures, Meryn moved through the crowded inn. Twice did he stop to accept the praise of drunk patrons, more so because they seized his arm or shoulder before he could move away. With pained smiles and nods, he listened.

That was the issue of performing in the countryside. A gleeman drew eyes here. Everyone watched the man with the patchwork cloak, and everyone listened when he spoke - be it high or plain chant. It was a double-edged sword. It gave a sense of safety, knowing that there were always people who'd notice when you were in trouble. Knowing that you couldn't be ambushed without at least someone knowing. Yet that also meant he could never fully disappear from the public eye. Never merge into a crowd or leave town without someone knowing.

It was how the guild had caught up to him over five times already. Nowadays, he was more careful in covering his steps. More cautious not to make the same mistake twice. Sometimes leaving unseen was as easy as hiding his cloak and baggy clothes and riding out during the night. At other times, it had taken distractions. Once, it had come down to a fight. The deadly game of cat and mouse he played with them, however, had culminated into an array of useful skills.

Like knowing when he was being followed.

His brown eyes darted around, never resting in one spot too long, as he took in the faces of the patrons. He sought for signs, however subtle, that the figure stalking him through the crowd toward the stables wasn't acting alone. He made sure to take his time to reach the door to be certain that the figure had no helpers. When he was, Meryn slipped through quickly.

The door creaked as it opened, letting through noise, warmth, and light that made the young stableboy on the other side jump up. Meryn glanced at him but dismissed the kid's presence immediately. When he first came in early in the afternoon, to drop off his belongings and saddlebags, he had promised the kid three silver pieces to keep quiet and leave him be. The mere mention of three silver pieces had made the kid's eyes bulge.

Now came the time to really put it to the test.

As soon as he was through the door, Meryn stepped aside and hurriedly put down his supper. His eyes flashed to his belongings lying near the haystack about fifteen paces away. Among them were three bundles of oiled cloth. Three perfect examples to illustrate why the guild wanted him dead. Like I'll go that easily. He reached for the dagger hidden in his green leather vest.

The second the figure following him would step through the door, he'd drag them aside and pin them to the wall with a dagger to the throat. The blade gleamed in the lamp's light. "I won't go that easily..." He muttered once more, to himself.

@Algarus

Destiny Intertwined - Wheel of Time

Meryn Rohald

Name: Meryn Rohald
Age: 29
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Race: Human
Birthplace: Tanchico
Residence: N/A
Occupation: Gleeman
Allegiance: Illuminator's guild (formerly)

Height: 6 ft.
Weight: 161 lbs.
Eyes: Brown
Hair: Golden

Appearance:
WIP

Background:
WIP

Destiny Intertwined - Wheel of Time

Slowly, Meryn Rohald moved his hands over the snares of his lute to set in the first chord of River Irallel. His patchwork cloak fluttered as he spun to face the other side of the crowded inn, and it took only two rythmic stamps on the table he stood on for the soldiers to recognize the song and clap along. Laughter filled the common room of The Nine Rings Inn, but Meryn couldn't help but shoot a glance at Master Rowen, as he had done many times this night. The only thing that seemed to calm Master Rowen - the plump, grey haired innkeeper - was when the crowd laughed. It hadn't escaped his notice how, whenever he took a short pause between songs and acts, Master Rowen dabbed his forehead with a dirty rag to hide how profusely he was sweating. Meryn thought that the man would burst the second he had recognized the tune of his previous song, The Fool Who Thought He Was King. Like the soldiers would've burned down his Inn had they felt offended. As if they wouldn't lynch me first.

He was approaching the end of his act. The night was still young, but he had only agreed to entertaining the guests in return for a warm meal and a place to spend the night. Now that the scent of broth and roasted chicken found its way to his nose, he thought it was about time for his payment.

"That'll be all for now lads." Meryn said after he played the final note. He moved to the edge of the table that had served as his stage, careful not to knock over any mugs of ale, and found his way to the dirty floor in one elegant motion.

Master Rowen was beside him in an instant. "Can't you entertain them for just a while longer gleeman?" The innkeeper pleaded. "If it's coin you want, I can pay. Yes, I'll pay."

Meryn brushed a lock of golden hair out of his face. "The followers of the F-" he caught himself in time. "of the Dragon won't burn down your inn without my stories, songs, and acts Master Rowen. Just keep the ale flowing and you'll have nothing to worry about." A look at the innkeeper told him the man was not convinced. Wearily, he added "But maybe I'll slip in an act or two after supper." The innkeeper's eyes shone.

"Then let's get you something to eat, eh?" Master Rowen turned. "Hilde!" Meryn nearly jumped at the innkeeper's sudden shout. A woman, seemingly twice the size of the innkeeper, appeared in the doorway of the kitchen with her arms crossed under her chest and her brow furrowed. "Fetch something to eat for the gleeman!"

Before Meryn could make a remark, the innkeeper guided him -somewhat forcefully- by the arm toward the counter. Muttering a 'thank you', Meryn took place on a barstool that had clearly seen better days.

While he turned on his stool to observe the crowd, Meryn caught on to the conversation next to him. "-heading for Jurene. Probably want to cut us off from Kinslayer's dagger." Meryn cast a sideways glance he was sure the three men beside him wouldn't notice. They wore dull red gambesons, almost as worn as their grizzled, scar-covered faces. Men from the borderlands, Meryn guessed.

The bald man closest to him sniffed loudly. "Whitecloaks. Fools, all of them." He slowly shook his head as he raised his mug of ale. "The Cairhienin won't let an army of Whitecloaks cross the Erinin, no matter the reason."

"As if the Queen of Andor will continue to let them to rally in the first place" the third chimed in. "Can't imagine she's pleased with them gathering in Andor." The other two men nodded in agreement.

Meryn turned away during the short silence that followed, but his interest was reinvigorated when the third spoke up again. "Anyways, the Whitecloaks aren't our biggest problem. Have you heard about them Aiel sightings? Those blasted cave-dwellers showed their faces at Kinslayer's dagger." According to the rumours Meryn had heard, Kinslayer's dagger was where the False Dragon had made camp. It was said that the mountains glowed like a swarm of fireflies during the night, each light a campfire of the dragon's followers. He eyed the men cautiously. He hadn't been sure of it before, but their reactions made him believe the rumours were true.

"Bloody Aiel." The fellow closest to Meryn spat. "What happened to 'em? What did the Lord Dragon do?"

"Put 'em to the sword, that's what he did. Flaming all of 'em." Laughter erupted from their side of the counter.

"Serves 'em right, didn't expect anything less from the Lord Drag-" The innkeeper's return cut him off from the conversation.

"Got some lamb stew and mushroom pasties for you. Enjoy, gleeman." Eagerly, Meryn pulled the plate and bowl toward him.

"Mind if I eat this in the stable? I prefer to eat my meals in peace and quiet." With the haphazard group of bandits and deserters who called themselves 'Followers of the Dragon' occupying Tremonsien, finding a place to sleep had been difficult - even for a gleeman. At first, Master Rowen hadn't been willing to offer a place in his stable either. It had cost him three more silver coins than he'd like to admit, but the harsh rain outside made a roof above his head worth every penny.

Master Rowen shot him an exasperated look. "Don't startle the horses."

Meryn grinned and raised his hands. "They won't even know I'm there." With the prospect of a quiet place to eat and smoke his pipe, Meryn took his supper and made way for the stable.

@Algarus

Avatar - The Greater Conflict

Izan’s gaze swept through the tavern, resting on the faces of the customers. It didn’t escape his notice that the majority of them were gruff and broad-shouldered seamen. Some, judging by their earrings, bracers, and necklaces of animal bones, hailed from the Water tribes. But there were more locals, formerly citizens of the Earth Kingdom.

Left from the doorway, slightly angled toward the corner, was a table occupied by off-duty soldiers from the Fire Nation. Unlike him, they wore dark crimson and black clothes, some of them even armor – the state of which betraying that they were all part of the local garrison. At the head of the table sat a woman whose laugh made the flames in the oil lamps dance.

He made the link quickly. She was a firebender, one so extraordinarily gifted that they could set a tree ablaze with a sneeze.
Izan folded his arms, leaning forward to study the group a bit better. The absence of their topknots, the Fire Nation hairstyle that symbolized one’s personal honour, spoke volumes about them. Their lack of care too.

A man to the woman’s right with graying sideburns swept his arm around the waist of a waitress passing by. His chair creaked under his weight, wine spilling over his sleazy armour. The other soldiers laughed, no doubt at his poor attempts to seduce the girl.

Her wide-eyed expression made the barkeep come over. He said something Izan couldn’t hear over the loud noise of conversation in the tavern. But the face of the soldier, twisting in a fit of anger, made the guess rather obvious.

The soldier sprung to his feet, his chair falling over behind him. In an instant, it grew silent.

“Please, just leave her be. She’s my daughter. I’ll give you another round on the house.” The barkeep pleaded.

“You think I care?!” The soldier spat. “Everything in this forsaken city belongs to us now! You don’t like that? Then maybe you should’ve fought harder!”

Several of the men Izan had identified as water tribe rose to their feet. Instinctively, his hand shifted to the dagger hidden under his cloak. Things were taking a turn for the worst.

“You may want to settle down, friend.” An older man who previously sat with the water tribe intervened. “If it truly is conflict you are looking for, I recommend traveling east.”

The light of the oil lams dimmed. “I believe you are missing the point.” Slowly, the Fire Nation woman stood up. “Like Xu-pa says, we conquered this place.” Her gaze moved over the tavern’s crowd. “We lay down the law in this place.” She deliberately left another pause. “Disobeying our will, resisting us, is seen as breaking the law. And you know what punishment follows.” She opened her hand to reveal a flickering ball of flame. “You will be branded a criminal. And you will burn.”

The barkeep took a step back, raising his hands. “I… I did not mean to offend you or your company, Lady Maiko.”
Izan’s nails dug into the palms of his hands as he balled them into fists. This was Guard-captain Maiko? The highest-ranking officer in the city, whom he was supposed to help? The incompetence of Governor Jong had angered him. But the corrupt nature of the high-ranking officers sent him reeling over the edge. He leaned into the positive jing, reaching the center of the action before he had even realized it. Briefly, he entertained the thought of challenging them to an Agni Kai one by one. But that would mean there was any semblance of honour to fight over. And that he would have to firebend.

“Captain Maiko.” He addressed her with an icy tone, pulling his hood back as he stepped forward. “I believe that we should have a word.” His amber eyes shifted to her company. “Alone.”

Maiko pursed her lips. The flame in her hand faded. Before she could respond, Xu-pa stepped in to block his view. He was too close, forcing Izan to smell his breath. “And who, by the Avater herself, do you think you are?!” He spat out the words and poked a finger at Izan’s chest.

Izan sighed. He hadn’t wanted this to escalate any further than it already had. But the temper of a firebender was like the element itself, uncontrollable.

Before anyone could tell what had had happened, Xu-pa stumbled back, roaring in pain. All seven Fire Nation soldiers shot up, blazing flames springing from some of their fists as they sought to incinerate him immediately.

They were stopped at the last second by Maiko herself, who studied the thin dagger Izan held in his hand.

Xu-pa, clutching his bleeding hand, stared at her. Furious. “He cut off my finger! Why don’t you kill him!?”

“Because, Xu-pa, he’s from the Fire Nation.” Maiko’s piercing gaze was fixed on Izan. Izan could’ve sworn she was suppressing a smile.

Xu-pa was far less amused. “That’s not an excuse!” He shot a look at Izan again. “You, you bastard... I challenge you to an Agni-kai.”

Maiko let out a low whistle. “Are you sure about that? Do you not recognize him?” She chuckled. “You’re looking at Captain Izan of the third legion. Better known as the Blade of Makapu”

What a way to announce my presence. Izan thought.

Xu-pa turned pale. “Wait-“

“I accept.”

“I meant no-“

“Tomorrow at noon. Fortress gates.” Izan could almost see the beads of sweat forming on the man’s brow.

“Bu-“

“You heard him.” Maiko interjected. “Now leave us. We captains do indeed have business to discuss.”

Avatar - The Greater Conflict

Izan could feel the nervous and prying eyes of the people on him, despite their attempts to avoid his gaze. It made their march through the city nothing short of uncomfortable. Anyone could tell that the people of Goju city did not want them here. Even now, three months after stability had returned to the city, he could see the defiance in their faces. For some it was fear instead. Fear of punishment, or perhaps fear for the lives of the Earth-benders that had been taken from their families.

He detested it.

His father had taught him the importance of authority, discipline, and honour. The lords who ruled the islands of the Fire Nation were supposed to lead by example. If anything, they were supposed to be fair and just to those under them. Was it just or honourable to inflict fear upon the people? He thought not.

Jigu Castle

Relief washed over him when the inner walls of the city came in sight. Their eyes were immediately drawn to the decorated building of wood and stone that towered over the walls. Jigu Castle, Izan recalled. For a while, it had been the base of operations for the south-eastern war effort. After the front had moved up, however, it had become the residence of the Fire Nation-appointed governor.

Once they were no less than twenty-meters away, the five men who guarded the thick, wooden gate finally bothered to get up. Izan eyed them up and down as they approached. All of their sleazy, stained, and mismatched uniforms were adorned by red sashes, indicating their status as Fire Nation soldiers. The one in front, a sun-burnt man with scabs all over his bald head, was the only one not carrying a pike. A fire-bender, Izan guessed.

With an audible lack of interest, the bald soldier spoke up. "And you are?"
"Captain Izan. Third Legion." Izan said curtly.
That piqued his interest. "Third legion, eh? You look a little worse for wear." The bald soldier grinned, exposing a set of yellow teeth. "Heard some rumours about a defeat at the Meijang crossing," Izan's golden eyes narrowed into a glare that made him hesitate. "they... true?"
"That's not your concern," Izan glanced at the soldier's dull insignia. "Lieutenant." He spoke the last word with clear disdain. He knew of the poor reputation the coastal garrisons had. The Fire lord's priority was conquest, and therefore the frontline. It showed in the poor upkeep of the garrisons left behind. That was why these were usually made up of thugs, low-lives, and cheap mercenaries. Judging by their appearance, that was the case for Goju's garrison as well.
"Now let us through. I don't want to keep the governor waiting."

After parting with his men in the spacious servant building, Izan made his way through the courtyard to the castle's keep, where the governor had taken up residence. It was a massive building of dark wood and stone, with olive-green terracotta roof panels. Izan had taken a moment to wash up, and change his armour for a modest dark-red robe. The two guards stationed on both sides let him through without so much as a second thought. It truly made him wonder if all it took was some silk and the colour red to infiltrate the castle.

A castle which, inside, felt like an entirely different world. No expenses were spared in decorating the place, from the decorative carvings in the wooden furniture to the porcelain vases that housed exotic plants. The only form of conflict he found in the castle's halls, was the contrast between the red tapestries and green accents in the furniture and accessories. Then there were the overly eager servants. Men and women from Earth Kingdom descent, who made it seem as if their lives depended on keeping the porcelain stainless.

With his helmet under his arm, Izan continued to the audience chamber. The helmet bore the insignia of the third legion; a flame-like crown. It was the sole identification he had of his rank, and Izan had created a habit of bringing it along on meetings such as these. Considering how out-of-touch with reality the governor's castle seemed, it felt like the right call too. Entering the audience chamber, Izan sat down on the Zaisu positioned in front of the elevated platform that no doubt belonged to the governor. As far as first impressions did, Izan didn't hold the man with his luxurious tastes in high-regard.

After a long wait, someone accompanied by four servants finally shuffled into the room. A man in his mid-thirties, with a long well-kept moustache and hair tied in a knot on top of his head in typical Fire Nation style. His silky crimson robes adorned with gold were clearly supposed to make him appear grand and dignified. His slightly hunched posture and darting amber eyes, however, did not add to the pretence. The governor reminded Izan of a deer. Any sudden moves, and the man was guaranteed to jump up and flee.

Once the governor was seated, one of the servants directly behind him spoke up. "The Illustrious Governor Jong will now hear your request." Illustrious was quite an unfitting title for the man, or so Izan thought.
"I am Captain Izan of the Third Legion. We were told to regroup at Goju in the event of a loss at the Meijang crossing." He began calmly. "We will stay here until further orders are received from General Ozoru." He made sure to issue it as a statement, instead of a request. It was a not-so subtle way to undermine the governor's self-perceived power. "Be ready to accommodate for at least seven cohorts."
"W-w-wait." Governor Jong stuttered, his eyes bulging. "Seven cohorts?!"
"Goju can only accommodate the four cohorts sent to Meijang!" the servant snapped.
Izan's gaze slowly moved to her. "And yet those are General Ozoru's orders." When the servant looked as if she was going to protest again, Izan quickly continued. "The Fire lord wants Omashu to fall before winter. Therefore, crossing General Ozoru would mean crossing the Fire lord." Izan stopped there, letting the Fire lord's infamy for excessive violence do the rest.
After a moment of silence, Governor Jong admitted defeat. "The p-p-preparations will be m-m-made..."
Izan nodded. "Good. Then this concludes our meeting." Despite the hierarchy here in Goju, it was clear who had been in charge of the conversation. Perhaps that was why Governor Jong preferred not to show his face in public. Izan imagined that, upon hearing him, the people would rise up in an instant.

As he stood up, he saw Governor Jong pull the servant's sleeve in the corner of his eye. "Captain Izan. A final word please." Izan turned to face them once more. "Captain Maiko of the garrison could probably use your help." Probably being the key word, Izan thought. "She has been dealing with nightly... disappearances. So far, she has been unsuccessful. Perhaps you could aid her in solving these crimes during your stay." The servant glanced at the window, through which the day's final rays of sunlight shone. "You will probably find her in a tavern by this hour."
Izan made a short bow and directed his attention to the governor. "With all due respect, Governor Jong, that is your problem to solve. Mine is the siege of Omashu." With that, he left the silent and perplexed governor alone with his servants.

Yet the sight of dusk outside left him with mixed feelings. Discipline, honour, and justice. Those remained his values. If it was truly in his power to stop the disappearances, then could he sit idly by?

Izan let out a sigh. Not every choice was as easily made as this one.

---

Donning a dull green cloak over a ragged earthen-brown tunic, Izan made his way through the slithering streets of the city. He was not foolish enough to wear Fire Nation garments in the streets at night. A three-month occupation was not enough to stop Fire Nation citizens from being dragged into back alleys and be beaten or lynched. To prevent that from happening, the governor had issued a curfew. One that apparently began at midnight, and could easily be bypassed by bribing the right guards. Not that that was of his concern. No, all he cared about was meeting with this 'Captain Maiko'. First he planned to study her from a distance to gauge what kind of person she was. Then, he would make his decision.

Izan opened the door of the first tavern he'd try for the night. Immediately, he was greeted by the warmth and laughter of the crowd inside. A good starting point, or so he'd thought. Blending in, Izan weaved his way through the crowds to a table in the back. He had no intention of staying if this 'Maiko' wasn't present, which was why he withheld from signalling one of the girls serving drinks. At least until after he had studied the faces of the crowd. Usually, the captain ranks were given to capable Fire-benders. If that were the case, the golden-yellow eyes of the woman should give her away. If not, the accent or boasting most likely would. But finding those signs took time and patience.

And thanks to curfew, Izan did not know which of the two he was really lacking.

Avatar - The Greater Conflict

Character sheet: Izan

Name: Izan
Age: 26
Affiliation: Fire Nation
Bending: Fire-bender
Background:
Izan is a reluctant military commander under the banner of the Fire Nation. For the last three years, he has fought against the Earth Kingdom by orders of the Fire Lord. Yet he longs for the war to end, so he may return to the island state his father once ruled.

Avatar - The Greater Conflict

Overview

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Setting
This roleplay is based on an alternate universe of the canon setting of the show Avatar: The Last Airbender. Years of rising tensions between the powerful Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom made war seem inevitable. It was the secret love between Fire princess Akemi and Earth Prince Hao that unleashed it. Three years have passed since the start of this devastating war in the absence of an Avatar.

---

Locations

Goju City

A minor Earth Kingdom city under occupation of the Fire Nation, located along the west coast. It is a major trade port, and best-known for their fabrics and colourful dyes. It is vital to the war efforts of the Fire Nation, as it serves as a key harbor in their supply route to forces further inland.