Zamokra41

Witch Hunter - Aldergard.

Post under construction. Don't worry, Reynald at the very least won't attempt to toss Reinham overboard :)))

I Wanna be a Saikyou HERO! [One-Punch Man Inspired] [Magical Girls, Ninjas, Metahumans and more!]

@Scrapula Now I got that song stuck in my head XD, thanks a lot.

Open Waters (Slots Open!)

Information : I will wait for one or two more people to post before I do. I never like my own posts to be to close to eachother.

I Wanna be a Saikyou HERO! [One-Punch Man Inspired] [Magical Girls, Ninjas, Metahumans and more!]

The White Knight

Twas a calm day this one, much like the day before and the one before that. It has been like this for nearly a month, an occurrence most uncommon yet warmly welcomed from pretty much everyone of Megatropolis. Everyone save for the ones who seek and thrive on large-scale conflicts and dangers, of course. He was not one of them. Sure, the gross majority of the time he would spend patrolling the streets of every district, seeking wrongs to right and justice to spread, but calm days such as these were the ones he enjoyed the most. Luckily for him, he was not the only hero, otherwise he would be easily overwhelmed by the sheer amount of disasters and injustices, big and small, that he would have to deal with. Whatever small-time crimes occurred right now which did not catch his attention were surely being taken care of by others, those willing to do good and/or prove their worth as heroes. Hmmm…’Hero. The term still intrigued him even after all these years when people have been calling him that.

Somewhere, atop one of the large buildings of B-District, overlooking a rather stunning view of this part of the city, a lone figure could be spotted. A rather odd looking swordsman, sporting a monochrome garb, his face hidden behind a plain and apparently ‘faceless’ mask with a large silvery mane of hair, flowing to the gentle breeze. He was seated in a seiza posture, his large sword placed horizontally on his lap and looking straight ahead, at the view. His lack of motion would suggest meditation…. or sleep. Maybe both? Though those who know of him know that sleeping is one of the activities he ever so rarely does, so they would probably be betting on meditation. Indeed that was what he was doing but only recently as the small stack of painted canvases next to him would suggest. On a peaceful day with not much crime-fighting, this is how one would find him, indulging in some more...well...peaceful activities.

‘Hero’. The term rang, loudly in his mind. If he understood the term correctly, a ‘Hero’ is someone who would do extraordinary acts of courage which may or may not result in a conscious self-sacrifice whose purpose is to protect and benefit others. In other words, a hero must posses both the will and courage to perform the most selfless act of them all if deemed necessary. Of course, this was his own personal(and probably idealized) definition of a ‘Hero’, others probably believed something completely different. Still, the idea that people would consider him to be something like that is…-

An earth-shattering tremor snapped him from his meditation and promptly rose him to his feet, turning his gaze at the source of the problem. In the distance he spotted a large serpentine creature rising from beneath, a terrible roar accompanying it just before it evaporated in a black-green-ish cloud of toxicity, leaving behind a large mound of bones with a castle on the very top. An announcement could be heard from the speakers posted around the city, warning the civilians to head to safety and asking the heroes to attend to the danger. Such ended Megatropoli’s streak of peaceful days, perhaps a bit disheartening but not unexpected.

Another call awaited his response. In only mere moments, via a display of gravity-defying leaps and acrobatics, he arrived at the heart of the problem. Gazing upon the colossal mound of bones from a vantage point nearby. He also noticed he was not the first to arrive. Other heroes(or would-be-heroes) were present as well, analyzing the situation. A cooperative effort would probably yield the best results, he judged and then leapt from his heighten position, landing gently amidst the group of individuals gathered close to the mound. The White Knight had made his presence known among them and regarded them with a slight and silent bow of his head, whether they had previously met or not.

Witch Hunter - Aldergard.

eerily quiet round here, eh?

Witch Hunter - Aldergard.

Quietly observing the other Initiates, Reynald made a few key-notices regarding each one.

The closest to him was probably the youngest of the group yet his size and appearance hid this fact quite well. Reynald observed this one playing a game of cards with one of the deckhands, a game which escalated quickly to the point of him drawing a blade to settle the argument and take his winnings. “These sort of actions only serve to reveal your youth and inexperience..” Reynald judged in his mind, having learned to keep the majority of his opinions to himself. He assumed this lad must be quite skilled in combat, otherwise he should still be in training at one of the strongholds and not here on this expedition.

The next person, he happened to have heard her name before. Syrrissia Wyrn. Judging solely by her appearance, one would easily underestimate this woman, with her thin build and short stature. Yet, if what he heard can be trusted, this constitution hides quick reflexes and sharp maneuverability. Taking those in consideration, Reynald approved of her choice of weapon, the bow favors those light on their feet and with nimble fingers. He knew little else about her, the rest remaining to be seen.

They also appeared to have an Elder Blooded one amongst their ranks. A woman of considerable stature, easily standing higher than Reynald or anyone else currently present. Taking notice of her attire, one could assume she was not someone who would boast great strength or combat skill but rather her strengths lie in other areas. Reynald often saw the Elder Blooded as heretics due to their practices of worshiping some false deity, yet perhaps this one was a rare exception as she was not only part of the Order but was deemed worthy enough to be part of this expedition. Regardless, Reynald would keep a close eye on this one.

The one who helped the Elder Blooded woman with her gear was someone Reynald had difficulty getting a proper read on. Nearly mistaking him for a woman, this person appeared physically unimposing and quite distant from everyone. The few times he observed him, he was scrawling in some leather-bound book, probably a journal of sorts. There was something about him thought, something that made Reynald feel like he should not let his guard down in his vicinity. He sighed and wonder what it could be…

The last one was one Reynald already knew well enough. Vayen Del’mor, the only person whom he spoke with during this voyage though it was more her who interacted with him than the other way around. What could he say about her? She was a particularly experienced tracker and will most probably adapt to the environment easier and faster than anyone else present. He was a bit surprised to find out that she was coming along on this expedition, considering her personality, Reynald was pretty sure that she demanded to participate when she heard that he himself was going to be called upon. Vayen would often make jests which Reynald would consider borderline blasphemy, yet he knew that she did that only to obtain some sort of reaction from him. He couldn’t understand her reasoning yet Reynald would rarely give her the satisfaction of showing that it bothered him.

Just as he was pondering about her, Vayen showed herself, casually walking past the youngster of the Order and seating herself right next to Reynald, listening to the inquiry from the Elder Blooded woman and the answer Reinham gave to her. So their destination was some village called Osen, still inhabited if he heard correctly. Reynald would wonder what sort of people they would find there, being more concerned with exactly how affected the populace may be from the magic going wild on the island. Just as the Witch Hunter mentioned before, don’t let your guard down. His thoughts were interrupted by Vayen, something he has gotten used to long ago. "Thank the stars because If we have to spend another day on this stench filled god-forsaken vessel someone was going to cop a beating" she whispered into his hooded ear. Reynald slightly leaned in her direction so she could hear him while he wouldn’t have to speak particularly loudly “The one getting a beating would be you, considering the current state you are in at the moment” he answered, his voice muffled by the mask. He knew well enough that Vayen particularly disliked open waters and not only once did he notice her feeling seasick, making a number of trips on deck to most probably empty the contents of her stomach on the side of the ship.

Most observes would probably assume that Reynald and Vayen were friends, while she probably regarded him as such, Reynald would be hesitant to say the same. He saw her as a comrade and a sister of the Order, one whom he happened to know and have a past with. The sudden movement of the ship had most probably taken everyone by surprise. Reynald himself did struggle not to tip over since he already was leaning in Vayen’s direction, thankfully he managed to keep his composure and fall over her. He judged that this may be a sign that they were close and shared this thought with Vayen “Almost there..” he said to her while standing up and slinging his Claymore on his back, adjusting the straps and belt of the scabbard. He was planning to go on deck to get a good view of their destination. He took one step before he stopped, sighed deeply and then turned around, offering Vayen a hand on helping her stand up. “Come on. The Almighty heard your prayers for reaching land soon and we are close. Let’s see what awaits us.”

Open Waters (Slots Open!)

My apologies for posting so late. Life got in the way, as it always does. Hope the post is satisfactory

Open Waters (Slots Open!)

Chris feigned a chuckle at the joke and felt relief wash over him, he hadn’t had a smoke since before he went to bed, this morning, or rather evening, had been hectic with him almost being late so there was no time for anything but to grab his bags and leave for the ship. There were more people as he had imagined, then again he wasn’t sure how many others there would be to begin with but he certainly never thought this many. Already he felt his confidence in both words and action slipping in this room full of strangers. Many of the women were all gathered around the bar, enjoying and passing drinks. One of them, with a rather interesting hairstyle consisting of many multicolor dreadlocks, was already behind the bar when he arrived. She offered to pour drinks for everyone, some took her up on her offer while Chris simply shook his head in a ‘no’ fashion, it had been many years since he ever touched any alcohol and that is one of the few things in his current state that he is glad about. The man who proudly introduced himself as Gabanre Charis ; a strange name to be sure; had asked for a cola, which meant good news for Chris, namely the fact that there were other drinks available other than spirits.

Names were already being tossed here and there, while he was struggling to recall and make a mental association between the names and faces. The bulky man whom he asked about the smoking policies went by Dustin, the military man with the blonde hair was called Gabanre; he was sure to have difficulty with recalling and pronouncing this one correctly…; the tall woman with the short hair was called Elvira; Chris felt like he heard that name somewhere before but simply couldn’t place it..; the small and slender woman with the pale skin was called Tiffany, the apparently Italian woman with the dreadlocks was called Rathe; easy enough, sounds a bit like ‘wraith’ so Chris will recall it; the last of the women, with long dark hair and blue eyes, went by Emma, the last man who had just arrived was a British person, judging by the accent, who introduced himself as Richard. He sighed. Chris was sure to forget the names sooner or later, at least some of them anyway, even if he recalled he would feign ignorance when a proper introduction was made between himself and the others.

Before anything else happened, he distanced himself from the group of people gathered around the bar and inspected the rest of the living room. Quite cozy and exquisitely furnished, it wasn’t very large but quite frankly it didn’t have to be. Chris liked this room, he probably would like it a lot more if it were a little more vacant than it is at the moment, but well, “c’est la vie…” as they say. More importantly, he could now finally enjoy a smoke. A tiny hint of a smile may have appeared on his lips as he dexterously pried open the pack in his pocket with one hand and pulled out a single cigar. With the other hand, he produced a tinderbox from the back pocket of his light beige trousers, recalling the words that someone dear to him once said “If you’re going to smoke those, remember to use a matchstick and not a lighter. You’ll feel the aroma better”. That was so, so long ago, yet these fond memories still haunt him sometimes, testimony to better, simpler times which he missed. The matchstick light up in a tiny burst of flame and Chris brought it in contact with the tip of the cigar in his mouth, once lit he gently waved his hand in order to put out the flame and tossed the burned stick into a nearby trashcan. He took a long smoke from the dark bown cigar, its thick smoke gingerly floating in the air. As odd as that advice sounded in the past, he knew it was good, since now he could really feel the mild sweet aroma characteristic to this particular blend of Blackstones. A thought suddenly occurred to him. In his backpack, back in his room, he had another spare 3 packs, if the voyage was going to last more than one week he would surely run out.

A feeling of uneasiness came over him at that moment, what would he do once he was out of cigars? Would he have to bum some off the other passengers? A light groan escaped him at the thought, he simply despised the idea of bumming off smokes from other people, even more so if these people were strangers. Chris took another long, drawn out smoke, calming his nerves. No need to panic, at least not yet, surely there were packs of cigarettes available for purchase on board…right? He didn’t want to think about it right now. Looking around the living room he spotted what appeared to be a turntable with a large collection of vinyls. Without hesitation, Chris walked there, the smoke from his cigar trailing after him as he ruffled through the available music, looking for something relaxing. With a nod to himself he prepped the turntable and played a vinyl simply labeled ‘Blues Collection’.

The music was to his liking, though only now did he realize that he may have just brought some attention to himself by breaking the ‘silence’ of the room. With a slight feeling of embarrassment, Chris pretended not to notice if anyone was looking his way. The music was playing only for some minutes before another person appeared in the living room. This one was no guest however, it was none other than the captain of the vessel himself. The captain walked with confidence as all eyes locked onto him from the very moment he made his presence felt among the eight people gathered. Chris quickly put the music to a halt as he was sure this man had something to say addressed to everyone and right he was as captain Christopher Maddox stood in plain view of everyone, arms wide open in a welcoming fashion and bided all passengers welcome aboard the Crescenzo and asking for everyone’s attention. Chris’s eyes never left the man as he took the cigar from his mouth and hid it behind his back, hoping that the captain wouldn’t take offense to his smoking in the living room, considering that there actually was a room titled ‘Smoking room’ aboard the vessel which Chris only now did recall.

Witch Hunter - Aldergard.

Bleh...not my best work but it be something for an introduction post, I would hope

@Conflagration
Hey, it's cool. I won't judge so long you won't judge. Deal? :)

Witch Hunter - Aldergard.

Such a voyage was not something anyone would consider easy or pleasant, most would avoid it without hesitation given the chance, especially considering the ship’s destination. Reynald was not one of them. The voyage may not be easy but a true brother of the Order would see it as a trifle matter in comparison with their holy mission. It may not be pleasant but such things were utterly irrelevant. This voyage simply fulfilled its purpose, it brought them to their destination and that is it, other matters such as it’s comfort were of no concern, at least not for him. The gentle rocking of the ship as it moved through and with the waves of the sea could be felt under the hull, where the make-shift living quarters and its occupants could be found, a mark that they were close to their destination. Reynald felt a slight jolt of excitement pass through him at the thought of setting foot on the forsaken land of Aldergard. He would soon see with his own eyes the ravages of magic and the final consequence of fools trying to hinder the Order’s efforts of purging these unnatural weavers of chaos and corruption known as ‘mages’ or ‘witches’. If anything, the events of Aldergard should have proven once and for all that the Order is the world’s best chance and hope for survival, yet surprisingly they have nowhere near the support he would have expected. A frustrating sigh escaped him at the thought.

Reynald was sat down, leaning with his back against the wall, his trusty Claymore cradled in his arms and leaned against his shoulder. He stood in the same position and in the same spot for the gross majority of the journey, occasionally getting up and shifting locations for various reasons but rarely. His hands were paired together, cracking the joints of his fingers yet careful not to make any noticeable noises. His armored mask and the hood of his coat hid his visage as he silently observed the other Initiates, his brothers and sisters of the Order. He assumed each of them were quite skilled in some area or another, otherwise they wouldn’t be on this expedition, yet it was not their skill that Reynald would hold in question but their faith. It still felt odd to him thinking that there were members of the Order who were lacking in their dedication to the Almighty and the Order’s sacred mission, yet he witnessed some examples himself, assuming that mayhaps they did not receive sufficient training and teaching, or perhaps they were shrinking from them. Hopefully those present here were not the sort, yet Reynald wouldn’t hold his breath.

The silence was broken by a creak from above, one of the sailors gave notice that they would be docking in one hour’s time as well as the fact that they would return in six days for them, meaning that they had to complete this assignment in that time. Shortly after this announcement, the Witch Hunter Reinham, the senior of the group, stood up, debriefing the Initiates on the task ahead of them. Reynald regarded this man highly, his rugged appearance masking the experience that shaped him into what some would consider the very role model of a Witch Hunter. He saw Reinham a few times during his training, even sparring once with him. Obviously he didn’t stand the slightest chance against a seasoned Witch Hunter yet he vastly improved since then, confident that even Reinham would take notice in his skill with the sword once it is witnessed. The Witch Hunter mentioned that now would be a as good a time as any to get to know some of the other Initiates that came along, though Reynald shared in the Witch Hunter’s probable feeling of disdain at the thought yet he did make a valid point, they are supposed to work together, both now on this particular assignment as well as in the probable future. With a sigh, he shifted his gaze at each brother and sister present. He probably caught a glimpse or two of some of them before but other than that, they were complete strangers to him. All, save for Vayen Del’mor, whom he trained and studied alongside with during his initiation period. Reynald wasn’t sure if he should be relieved of her presence or already irritated by her demeanor. Only time will tell.