The Ivalice Alliance

[Picard]

“The region consisting of the three continents of Valendia, Ordalia, and Kerwon, blessed throughout with verdant natural landscapes and climatic conditions supporting a great variety of life. Regional climate trends are thought to be determined largely by the density of Mist present in the air, though this correlation is as yet not well understood. Many humanoids call Ivalice home, each belonging to a distinct cultural sphere. By far, most prevalent of these are the humans, and it is around the civilization that affairs throughout the rest of the world revolve.”

Mist – The source of Magick in the world of Ivalice. Mist gathers in both living beings and stones called magicite. Anyone, either wielding these stones or not, can extract mist to use magic. The other form of magicite, nethicite, absorbs mist, thus nullifying any magic effects. Monsters are also highly attracted to Mist-dense areas, and some of them are spawned from the Mist itself.

Sentient Races:

Human – The most numerous and politically dominant sentient species, they are often considered to be a standard or average to which the biology, psychology, and culture of other species and races are compared. Due to their industrious nature, humans have effectively achieved global dominance, and have the closest relationship with the moogle race. A rather potent race, humans have been witnessed occupying, or at least having the capacity to occupy most jobs.

Moogle – Recognized by the small, bat-like wings, usually pink or white fur and a pom-pom hanging from their heads (which they are very sensitive about being touched), moogles generally resemble small mammals that punctuate their sentences with “kupo”, as a sort of verbal tic. Intelligent and industrious, they specialize in gadgetry, tinkering, and engineering, and thus are often seen in the employment of humans.

Elf – An ancient, immortal race that predated every other race, and have co-existed peacefully with other species for the longest of time.  While most of the lived in the forest, they have since adapted to the urban life after the industrialization by humans, and are excellent archers due to their keen eyesight. They boast an acute sense of hearing as well due to their pointy, sharp ears, and are also characterized by their tall and slim physiques. While they make excellent white mages and archers/gunners, they do not excel in close combat as well as humans.

Viera - The viera have rabbit-like features, including long ears and supple limbs. Due to their long feet, viera wear stilettos most of the time. The viera also have a heightened sense of smell, which can put them at a disadvantage against some of Ivalice's smellier monsters. The viera have approximately three times the lifespan of humans; they can be more than 50 years old and still be in their prime. Unlike elves, the viera continue to thrive in forests and prefer to shun away from the urban world. On the other hand, they are easily made into impressive black mages and archers/gunners, and close combat are generally not their forte.

Mithra – A predominantly female race of hunters, the mithra are not particularly brilliant or charismatic, but due to their outstanding strength, dexterity and agility, they are ideal for classes such as Monk, Ninja, and particularly Thief. They are easily identified by their characteristic ears, which give them spectacular hearing ability, and their long tails, which result in an unparalleled sense of balance.

Aegyl – A winged species resembling humans, they are so rare that people would think that they existed only in fairytales. The aegyl primarily live in a self-sustaining island hidden away in the skies, hence they were seldom heard of in the history of Ivalice. In modern times, with the emergence of more powerful aircrafts, the aegyl have begun making greater contact with the rest of the world. Due to their lightweight nature, they are unable to equip heavy armor and choose to stay away from close combat, preferring the use of magic and long-range weapons.

Nineteen year old Mira Reis stepped into the headquarters of the renowned Clan Centurio, once a small and humble guild, now one of the largest Mark Hunting organizations in Ivalice, with its branches spread across the globe to serve the people in solving the issues of dangerous pests and give others the thrill of challenging missions. Her feline ears twitched as she heard the familiar, idiosyncratic ‘kupo’ at the other end of the room, right behind the registration counter. It was a moogle with fur as alabaster as her hair, and small, beady eyes dark like her skin, fluttering around with his bat-like wings, waving to her, or rather, beckoning her to come. It was hard to tell with his tiny arms, but she proceeded over to him anyway.

“Welcome to Clan Centurio, kupo! Are you a first-timer?” greeted Bianco, leader of the clan. He was the descendant of the founder, Montblanc, a legendary moogle fusillader of his time. The white-furred moogle inherited not only the guild, but the skills of his forefathers with a gun. Still, Bianco remained behind a desk for the most parts these days, rarely entering the field himself unless the situation called for it.

The mithra scratched her cheek, uttering a nervous laugh before she spoke, “Yeah. How do I go about registering for a Mark Hunt?”

“It’s easy, kupo! All you need to do is to apply for it! You don’t have to be a member, though you’ll receive mails for new Hunts via the Mognet if you do, kupo! And you’ll get to participate in Elite Marks!” exclaimed Bianco enegectically, bouncing up and down in the air. “What kind of Mark do you want to hunt, kupo?”

“Um… any easy ones?” asked Mira sheepishly, embarrassed to fight weak creatures.

“Of course, kupo! No need to be shy, everyone has to start off somewhere, kupo!” Bianco lowered himself to the monitor on his desk, tapping a few buttons frantically on the screen to search for something suitable for her. “I think I got one, kupo! How about a few goblins making trouble in the 33rd District a little ways north of here, kupo? It’s an E rank mission!”

Mira rubbed her chin thoughtfully, considering the offered quest. “…Am I going to be the only one doing the Mark, or can others join? Y’see, I’m a White Mage, so…”

“Kupo! I understand, kupo! I’ll put your request for party up in the clan’s bulletin board over there –” Bianco pointed over at the giant electronic screen prominently displayed at the side of the room)  “– and you can wait around for someone to join, kupo!”

The mithra’s ears perked upwards happily, and she bore a grin at the moogle. “Thanks!”


I’m just gonna make a very quick profile here for Mira, as simplistic as possible.

Name: Mira Reis
Age: 19
Gender: Female
Class: White Mage, Chemist
Race: Mithra
Equipment: Healing Staff, Item Bag
Image:

[Terak]

*poof!*

It was one of those days. It was almost the sort one could eventually chuckle about as they retold it to friends over a drink a few years down the road, when the grumblings and head noise had been worn off and patched over with humour; however, these alterations came with time. As with any bad day, it all began with a single circumstance that would crack the dam and eventually widen into an angry flood. This is what happened at Gat’s engineering shop.

“Hima, get out here!”

Gat always tried to speak with as much authority as a moogle could muster, which was admittedly not a lot when it was directed at anything over three-and-a-half feet. Thus he simply couldn’t help but feel a bit proud of himself when the she-hume twice his height came running up the basement stairs in a flushed haste. Eager to continue, he put on his best “boss” face and spoke sternly.

“You’ve fallen behind our quota again, kupo,” he said. “Have I not trained you better?”

Hima gritted her teeth. “Yes, Mr. Gat.”

Resentful compliance; Gat felt another mix of guilty pleasure. “Well, you’re going to need to do better, kupo. Lord Hume specified that he wanted his new engine ready by three P.M. sharp. You’re aware that it is now one o’ clock, kupo?”

“Yes, Mr. Gat. But there were some circuitry issues that took magic that was beyond me to fix-”

“I believe Clemence is there to help you with that, kupo.”

“Clemence is no help at all!” There was a fresh dose of fire in Hima’s words this time. “He never wants to do the work! He’s so lazy, he-”

“That’s enough, kupo,” Gat interceded again. “Clemence has worked here for a long time.”

She was more or less on the mark, actually. But Clemence was his nephew, and Gat felt obligated to look after him since his family relationship was a bit strained. Since the young moogle-kin was also recovering from injuries, Gat felt inclined to stick up for him a bit.

The tension of the small confrontation was suddenly interrupted by the rising and falling of a well-known arpeggio that carried through a few gentle successions as Gat shuffled over to the shop’s telephone.

“You’ve reached Gat’s Engineering Shop, kupo,” he sang cheerfully. “This is Gat, how can I- Walter, good day! Lord Hume’s order should be running smooth as silk in—” he glanced at Hima, “—just a couple of hours, kupo. I daresay I’m brash enough to guarantee you this is one decision you will pride yourself on, by using my design, kupo! When should we . . .”

That was the most enthusiasm anyone would hear from Gat for a while. It faded quickly in the next few moments.

Again, this was one of those days.

~*~

Hume’s attendant was not calling to check on the engine; he was calling to cancel the order because he had found a supposedly better deal at a rival engineer’s business. Although Gat did eventually manage to hunt down a phone contact that might have a use for some of the now-wasted parts, he was unprepared for the small explosion from the basement that rocked the building, followed by the shrill of smoke alarms. For Hima, this was the straw that broke the Chocobo’s back. She quit.

The mess was Clemence’s folly. The moogle had made a gross underestimate during a Mist-transfusion that was the result of trying to cut corners, too preoccupied with other after-work plans. The fire was quickly put out, but the damage was done. Gat, flustered and furious, gave Clemence a record-setting reprimand. At equal height, he was a lot more imposing.

Losing the sale of the engine and the security system that blew up meant a big drop in Clemence’s pay check. This meant that he would not have the money to afford the Moogle Knight jacket he had been eyeballing for weeks at one of Rabanastre’s shops. He fumed over this even later on as he ambled miserably into the guild hall of Clan Centurio. His mood had been successfully soured.

. . . And to top it off, he was still carrying this thing around.

“Kupo! Hello, Clemence! Nice to see you’re looking fit once again!”

Another moogle smiled across the clan’s main counter. With his cheery tone and desk-job apparel, it was easy for newcomers to mistake him for a normal employee. In truth, he was none other than the clan’s leader.

“Hello, Bianco,” Clemence said.

Bianco’s pompom bobbed around as he tilted his head. “Still no luck on reaching Moogle Knight, kupo?” he asked, with a hint of sympathy. “I see you’ve packed the old trumpet once again.”

The trumpet. Clemence hated the trumpet. To him it was a joke. Most people got to inflict justice to enemies with a sword, an axe . . . heck, even their bare hands. He inflicted it with a musical instrument. “I’m so sick of Animism, kupo,” he grumbled. “Can’t I go back to being a Thief instead? This job is so dull.”

“Only if you’ve changed your mind about knighthood, kupo,” Bianco said with a shrug. “Trainers need to see you can manage Animism before they’ll consider you ready, kupo.”

“But it’s been months, kupo,” Clemence sighed in vexation. “It just doesn’t work for me, kupo. I try really hard, but I can’t meet their standard.”

Bianco raised an eyebrow shrewdly. “I don’t get the impression you’ve been trying that hard, kupo. Animism takes a different kind of focus than you’re used to using as a Thief or a Squire, kupo. That type of focus is probably what’s holding you back. Remember, you have to use your Animism abilities in order to get any better with them, kupo.”

Clemence scowled. He was twenty-three years old; he didn’t need to be lectured on basic job discipline like some Moogling, today of all days.

“Mark Hunts, kupo?” he asked dully. He gestured at his trumpet in disgust. “Group, preferably, kupo. I’m not much of a threat with this thing.”

“You must have missed the bulletin board, kupo. There’s a mithra girl who put up a posting for a group mission to slay some goblins some ten minutes ago. E-rank, kupo.”

“Not what I had in mind, kupo,” Clemence said, wrinkling his nose. “I was hoping for a D-rank.”

“Your bravery is both commendable and worrisome, kupo,” Bianco said sternly. “E-rank is perfectly fine for you, especially since you’re coming off an injury. Besides, she’s a newcomer, so you can help her get a feel for the job, kupo.”

“Yes, yes,” Clemence sighed. “Sign me up, kupo.”

Bianco nodded brightly. “Always appreciate your assistance, kupo! You’ll find your partner upstairs. White Mage, white hair.”

White Mage? Just my luck, Clemence thought as he made his way up the stairs. He had simply assumed she would be some sort of melee class; short of bangaas, the mithra made some of the best fighters around. This meant they would probably be waiting for another clan member to join them. But he’d had enough of his own griping—it was business time.

He straightened his posture and perked his ears as he approached the only snow-haired cat girl he could see in the waiting lounge. He cleared his throat politely when he was near enough.

“Kupo! Excuse me! Clemence Yubel at your service! I’m here to assist you in your mission, kupo!”


can i join

Name: Clemence Yubel
Age: 23
Gender: Male
Class: Animist, Theif
Race: Moogle
Equipment: War Trumpet, Green Beret, Chainmail (still working on this section)
Image: Later

I need to brush up on my Ivalice know-how.

[Picard]

HOLY SHEEEEEEEEEEEEEP IT'S FARKIN' TERAK!!! Writing from my iTouch, so a short post.

"Gee, the lounge is as big as my entire apartment. Kinda makes me ashamed of myself..." Mira inspected the waiting room with a most typical mithra-esque curiosity, examining the elegant decors put in place, its burgundy walls furnished with paintings of wars of ages past, and sparkling auric trophies lining a magnificent glass display, showing off proudly to others of Clan Centurio's achievements in humanitarian work and Mark Hunting. One of which, the Proof of Yiazmat, sat at the very center of all awards, the pride and joy of the guild. It was a famous tale of falling the infallible ancient beast by the hands of mere mortals, regaled countless times by Montblanc, and by extension, Bianco. But that was another story.

“Kupo! Excuse me! Clemence Yubel at your service! I’m here to assist you in your mission, kupo!”

Mira whirled around the instant she heard the moogle, half-expecting Bianco before the hearing of his name. Clemence Yubel popped out right in front of her face, and she nearly shrieked in surprise if she had not caught herself just in time, instead letting out a soft yelp of astonishment. He was a tiny little fluff ball, like all moogles are. She noted the trumpet in his equipment, hinting to her the moogle's class as an Animist. She gave an inward groan of exasperation, but her cheerful face showed no signs of her disappointment. Looks like they have little choice but to wait for a heavyhitter.

Mira was all smiles when she greeted Clemence, shaking his small hands enthusiastically, and with slightly excessive force, swinging the poor moogle up and down. "Hey there! I'm Mira Reis the White Mage and Chemist-in-training! Hope we get along, Clemmy!"

A little after giving her new partner some time to orient himself again, she sat comfortably on the leather couch, eager to know more about him. "Are you a first-timer too? I'm pretty new at this Mark Hunting thing. Gotta earn some money for my Chemist training expenses, y'see..."

[CM]

As soon as the animist trotted up the stairs, a familiar figure appeared in the doorway of the clan headquarters. Sauntering through the foyer came a well groomed, blue-hided seeq, atypically well-dressed for one of his kind. A pure white business suit with a black bowtie concealed his flabby torso and made him appear cleaner and more radiant than the average pig-man. A matching wide-brimmed hat concealed his dagger-like horn under its high crown, while his jacket, draped over his forearm, left nothing to obstruct view of the pistol holstered at his hip. Beside him a young human warrior followed, walking slowly to keep in line with his waddling elder.

Bianco, recognizing his porky visitor, did not look forward to the impending conversation. Nonetheless, being the good host he was, he attempted to offer an affable greeting as he and his young partner finally approached. "Good afternoon, Glenzie. What brings--"

"That you wuhkin' the front desk, 'Yanco?" the seeq interrupted. His voice was strikingly loud, but he spoke in an easy, drawn-out manner. "I say, such a choah is hahdly  becomin' of the president of the mahty Clan Centoorio.  And ah was evah so eagah to catch an eyeful o' that loooovely piece who's usually in yoah place. What was huh name, now? Carrie, Cahlie..."

"Callio's sick with the flu, kupo. I'm filling in until she recovers." Bianco worried he might be the next one out sick, if not from stomaching the thought of the beast in front of him with his treasured receptionist, then from the excess of cologne applied to drown out his natural seeqish odor. "Besides, kupo, it gives me a chance to judge the character of the hunters personally."

"Heeeell, son," Glenzie said with a smug chuckle. "You  don't need to play receptionist to judge yoah  moppets. Whah, ah could tell you from the comfuht of my own pahlah, this place's got moah chumps than the Nubswood."

By now Glenzie had caught the attention of everyone in the foyer. Those who were familiar with him rolled their eyes and resumed their business. Some of those who didn't know him gave him unfriendly gazes, offended, while others were intrigued by his exotic drawl and gentlemanly airs. The same things had once mesmerized Bianco, but the novelty had long since worn off. Now, between his bitter company and his intrusive droning, it was a struggle for the clan leader to maintain his usual cheery smile.

As little patience as he had for Glenzie, though, Bianco never let his mockery bother him. Or if he did, he never showed it. "Do you have any actual business today, kupo?" he chirped.

Glenzie smiled a crooked smile. "Ah always got business, son. Sure as Shemhazah, ah don't just come down heah to critisahz."

He slapped the warrior at his side on the back, causing him to step forward and stand up straight.

"Ah wanted you to meet mah boy Aggie heah," the seeq continued. "His daddy an' ah used to do business, once  upon a tahm. Ahms manufacturah. Good man. Saw the Faction through some tough tahms. Told him once if he evah needed anything, just ask. Course, little did ah  know he actually would. Short whahl back, one sunny aftahnoon, he calls me on the tel-o-phone. Says his  boy's comin' on down to Rabanastah. Says he wants to be a warriah, wants me to put him on the fast track to glory. 'Course, the Aeol Faction's no place for kids, bein' that we only offah elite mahks. As a fellow clan leadah, I'm shoah you agree: same as everybody else, the boy's gotta staht at the bottom... So ah brought him to you."

The hume scowled, belittled. Bianco fought the temptation to connect his face to his palm.

"Kupo. Of course you did, Glenzie," the moogle uttered with a hint of dryness before turning to the soldier. "Aggie, was it? We'll find you a good job in no time, kupo."

"Hrmph," the lad grunted, showing much more than hint of dryness. "It's Agnarm. Not Aggie."

"Okay, kupo, Agnarm it is. My name is Bianco. It's a pleasure to meet you, kupo!"

The moogle extended his tiny hand to the new recruit, who initially ignored the gesture - until Glenzie nudged him with his elbow, stirring him to reluctantly shake Bianco's hand, though without speaking any words in response.

"Since y'all are acquainted now, ah'll be takin' mah leave," Glenzie said as he stepped back and doffed his hat, revealing the polished, bladelike horn atop his head. "Don't you go easy on the boy now, 'Yanco. Aggie, you just make yoah daddy proud."

Relieved to be rid of his company, neither Agnarm nor Bianco bid the seeq farewell as he ambled away, whistling what might have been a soulful tune if seeqish snouts were better suited for whistling. Instead, Bianco focused his attention on the rookie hunter, who he sensed was not pleased to be here.

"Now, kupo... I've got a great E-rank mission that should be perfect for--"

"Listen, puffball," Agnarm said fiercely, interrupting his superior. "Forget what that fat old coot said. I'm not some kid who's never swung a sword before. I know how to fight. I don't need you and your nutsy little clan wasting my time with E-rank marks."

"You want to be a great hunter, kupo? Fighting isn't the only thing you need to learn," Bianco sternly lectured the complacent fighter. "There are two other novices preparing for this hunt upstairs, kupo. I'm sure they'd appreciate the help of a big, tough warrior like yourself... Of course, if you don't want to take the hunt, I can send you back to Mr. Texson, kupo. And he can tell your father you've given up before you even started. It's your choice, kupo."

Agnarm gave the moogle a long, hard scowl. Bringing up his father was a low blow. He hoped to intimidate the moogle into reconsidering, but Bianco met him with an unyielding smile of confidence. When the warrior realized there was no winning his staring match, he grudgingly ceded.

"Fine. But after this, you better give me a real mission."

"Do a good job and you'll be felling wyrms with Mr. Texson and the Aeol Faction in no time, kupo!"

Agnarm grimaced with ingratitude. He was sick of the moogle already, finding his sunny disposition and incessant smiling awfully patronizing.

"Now, kupo," Bianco continued, "your mission is to track down and neutralize a pack of goblins understood to be wreaking havoc in the 33rd district. Your comrades are waiting upstairs, kupo - there's a mithra girl about your age, along with a quirky little moogle animist. I have every confidence that together you'll succeed, kupo!"

The hume eyeballed the clan leader a moment longer before he turned his gaze away, followed by the rest of his body, and abandoned the moogle's company without a word to seek out his companions. Bianco couldn't help but feel pity for the surly, closed-minded warrior as he watched him trudge up the nearby stairway, clearly displeased with his assigned task. What an unfortunate attitude for an aspiring young hunter to have, he thought to himself. That poor boy's in for a rude awakening, kupo...


daaaag, i never fail to underestimate the amount of work roleplaying takes!
sorry to make you all wait so long. hope my post didn't suck too hard, toward the end i just wanted it to be finished so i got a little sloppy eheheh welp

Name: Agnarm Galgeza
Age: 18
Gender: Male
Race: Hume
Class: Warrior
Equipment: Samson Sword, Brigandine, Headband
Image: nope sry

Name: Glenzariah "Glenzie" Texson Jr.
Age: 48
Gender: Male
Race: Seeq
Class: Gunner
Equipment: ?
Image: nope sry pt. 2
Notes: President of the rival elite mark-hunting agency, Aeol Faction. Minor character, feel free to control him as freely as you would Bianco.

[Kenji]

With all the hunter traffic steadily picking up, it shouldn't have been a surprise for a tall, lithe viera to walk into Clan Centurio's headquarters, a rapier with a uniquely broad blade slung on her back. She moved with a natural strut, though whether it was deliberate, or due to her kind being physically required to wear stilettos, was unclear. Her apparel was... Questionable, to say the least, what with her lower unmentionables being present for all to see. Even though it was not unlike the viera to be scantily clad, this was still Rabanastre, not the wilds or the forests, and thus a clear surprise for any to see.

Regardless, Valdis stopped at the counter, where Bianco was apparently doing something under the table. She rapped her knuckles twice on the surface, prompting the moogle to flit back up and greet her with a smile. "Kupo! Welcome to Clan Centurio, kupo! Are you a first-timer?" The viera shook her head, folding her arms under her bosom and returning the moogle's smile. "I took a couple freelance jobs around my home. Appropriately enough, they paid my way to your headquarters." She giggled, then continued. "But I've never worked under a clan."

Bianco hummed in confirmation. "I see, I see... You're ambitious for a rookie then, kupo... I like that, kupo! I take it you want to apply for membership?" Valdis nodded, to which the bouncy proprieter produced a laptop, seemingly from nowhere, and set it on the counter facing the fencer, displaying a short sheet requiring details. "Just fill this out, kupo, and I'll take care of the rest."

Quietly, Valdis proceeded to enter in her information. Her fingers moved like lightning, her eyes flicking through the fields as she tapped out details. With such dexterity of the fingers alone, it was no shock to see her chosen profession of fencer. "Done!" The viera smiled, looking up from the screen and turning the laptop back to its owner. As quickly and suddenly as the laptop had appeared, so similarly did it vanish within Bianco's otherwise tiny grasp.

"Excellent, kupo! You should get your confirmation email some time soon. Was there anything else you wanted to do?" Valdis tilted her head in thought, once more folding her arms. "Well... I was hoping I could get in on a mark. Do you have anything open?" Laughing, Bianco offered another adorable moogle smile in his response. "You're the third one to ask in a row, kupo! We have an E-rank mission open to other hunters! Just a pack of goblins in the city, nothing difficult, kupo. You'll want to look for a Mithra White Mage. Easy to spot, just go up the stairs, kupo."

Valdis leaned forward and pecked Clan Centurio's leader on his pom-pom. "Thank you~!" With that, she turned and strutted her way to and up the stairs, looking for the white mage in question.

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

Damn censors.

Name: Valdis
Age: 20
Gender: Female
Class: Fencer, Squire
Race: Viera
Equipment: Broad-bladed Rapier, Bracers, Reinforced Corset
Image:

[Terak]

Did she really just call me Clemmy? the moogle thought, disgruntled. He wanted to correct her, emphasize that no, his name was Clem-ence, but it was difficult to think straight with the room still swirling around him, so he gave up. "No, no, I'm no tenderfoot, kupo," he said brusquely. "I've just been off the job a while, so I'm starting off light as a bit of a warm-up. This is fortunate for you, kupo. I can provide you with some good advice."

There, maybe that would give her more confidence in him. It wasn't exactly false, since he was a reasonably seasoned Mark Hunter . . . but only as a Thief, not an Animist.

"Oh, that's good news!" Mira said, resting her palms down and swinging her legs in alternation. She was a lively thing. "I was hoping for someone I can ask questions! Don't worry, I'll pay close attention!"

Her enthusiasm towards his offer surprised Clemence, and he hoped it was largely a polite front. "Very well, kupo," he said, slightly unnerved by his sudden acquisition of a pupil. "I trust you're familiar with the Mark Hunting basics, kupo?"

When she nodded, he decided to take her word for it. He furrowed his brow and began to pace back and forth, arms folded. "Good, good. Then let's jump right to battle strategy, kupo! Goblins tend to travel in big clusters, so I'll bet we're gonna be outnumbered by at least a little bit; otherwise this mission would just be too easy, kupo. They're as brainless as goons come. Their punch isn't fun to take, and they might have daggers, but that's really the worst of it, kupo. Just keep light on your feet and stay alive so you can help the team out of any unlucky bangs."

He looked up to make sure she was actually paying attention. He was a bit surprised to see that she was, or was at least faking it very well. "Child's play, right, kupo? We'll blow through this like behemoths through a boulevard and then start looking for real missions. Now, if you're here looking for Mark Hunts then I'm sure I don't have to ask this question, kupo, but I will anyway: do you have much experience using your skills in actual combat?"

[Lord High Summoner]

The sun hung high overhead and cast down its heat with unrelenting fury, such was the day to day life of those who inhabited the royal city of Rabanastre. Yet, even through the incessant heat, the crowds and masses flocked through the streets of the bustling city, eager to meet the day. While some attended the bazaar  and marketplace, others chose to spend their time around the aerodrome, more than a few patrons of the area hoping to make a quick profit off of an unsuspecting tourist. The day had been unusually slow at the aerodrome, little traffic on the commercial lines and the private docks had remained unused. Towards the latter of the afternoon, a quick shadow was cast upon the sun and offered a moment of reprieve from the unrelenting rays of heat. Within minutes, a ship pulled into an empty private dock. At first all was silent from the small and humble vessel, but soon it quickly erupted into a bustling workstation. The inside crew piled out of the craft and immediately started to converse with the moogles on purchasing parts and haggling prices for maintenance for the ship. With the focus of the crew solidly on the moogles, the opportunity was right for escape. For on board the small vessel was a hidden stowaway who had, unbeknownst to the entire crew, sneaked aboard at the last dock.

Seizing the opportunity, the stowaway stealthily made his was off the ship and into the depths of the aerodome, mixing with the crowd before he could be stopped by a lone perceptive deck hand. As soon as he hit the crowd, it was a simple feat to make it outside and into the freedom of fresh sunlight, it had been several hours since he had seen any light and the harsh light rendered him slightly disoriented. After several minutes of shielding his eyes, the eyes of the young elf finally adjusted and he analyzed his surroundings. It had been many years since he had stepped foot in the desert city, and not many things had changed since his last visit, which suited him well enough for this meant he knew how to get around. The elf cracked his neck as he thought of where he wanted to go, perhaps to the local tavern for a quick drink? But with what little funds he had left he needed to be frugal. He had heard tales of the monster hunter clan that was based in the city, but had never thought himself of the mark hunting type. But, desperate times called for desperate measures, and if he was ever going to attain his goal, he would need plenty of money and experience in combat.

"Looks like it's the clan for me."

The young elf quickly started his way towards the famous clan headquarters, snatching a rather fanciful hat off the head of a passing hume as he did so, pulling the brim down enough to cover his eyes from the sun. Before the hume could say anything, the two were swept apart by the massing crowds, apparently sales were just announced in the market district. With a smirk on his face, the mischievous elf took a detour amongst the market, picking up a "discount" piece of fruit and loaf of bread as he passed through to the clan hall. As he passed the doors, his nose was assaulted by the stench of seeq and cologne, though he could non pinpoint a source, the scent hung in the air and left the elf with a sour expression.

"Welcome to Clan Centurio kupo, I haven't seen your face around here, are you new by chance?" Greeted the small moggle at the front desk, his smile going from ear to ear and a slight color to his cheeks revealed embarrassment.

"As a matter of fact I am, but I've heard tell of your famous clan and decided to partake in some combat training through your marks. The name is Azazel, and I assume you are Bianco?" Said the elf behind eyes that eyed the ogled at a viera atop the stairs.

"Ah, today sure does seem to be full of you tenderfoots kupo. Well as it happens Azazel, I have an E rank mission that has a growing party waiting upstairs. It's just a gang of goblins causing some trouble kupo, so it'll be a good introduction to the clan and to combat. If you want to take on this mission head upstairs and look for a young Mithra named Mira, kupo."

Azazel nodded and pulled down the brim of his newly acquired hat down at the moggle, and before he left it gave the pom pom a slight poke forward so it bounced, satisfied with this the elf took himself and followed the path of the viera, who he wished desperately to be in the same group as him. It had been some time since he had been graced by Viera beauty and he relished every moment he got to view it. As soon as he hit the top of the stairs he saw the ragtag group of warriors collected, he smirked as he saw the viera.

There is a god and he must not know about me yet thought the elf as he bounded for the group.

"Well hello there fellow rookies, am I too late for the party?"

_________________________________________________________________________________


Name: Azazel Marchosias
Age: 21
Gender: Male
Race: Elf
Class: Gunner, Black Mage
Equipment: 2 Vega Pistols, leather armor
Image: http://img2.lln.crunchyroll.com/i/spire4/04142008/5/8/a/4/58a415bf6b26a0_full.jpg

[Picard]

“Actual combat?” repeated Mira, crossing her arms as she gave it a thought, her tail swinging restlessly around behind her back. “Well, I fought off a Thief the other day for trying to steal my purse, if that counts! I don’t have any real experience outside of that, I guess. I usually just volunteer in humanitarian organizations to improve my skills as a White Mage.”

“Kupo…” The mithra wasn’t quite sure what to make of that remark, but before either of them could continue their conversation, from the stairs came a warrior with a fierce expression on his face, as though he was angry about something. Then a viera followed shortly after, her golden hair shimmering under the light of the room as she sauntered over to Mira and Clemence with a cool smile on her face, along with the warrior, who seemed hesitant to approach at first. Finally, a third emerged from the stairway, a crimson-haired elf with his gaze fixed on the viera, giving Mira and Clemence only a passing glance of acknowledgement.

“Well hello there fellow rookies, am I too late for the party?” asked the elf in a casual manner.

The hume snorted in derision at the elf’s question. “I beg your pardon? Rookies?”

“I’m sorry. Did I insult you by accident?” said the redhead, bring down his hat to his chest as he bowed apologetically, though it seemed to Mira as a sarcastic gesture than a genuine apology.

“Hoo boy. I’d better break it up before the situation worsens.” Mira stood up abruptly and cleared her throat as loud as she could, in a desperate attempt to get their attention. Sure enough, their heads turned towards her. “Hey! Mira Reis the White Mage here! Are you guys joining me and Clemmy here for the Rank E goblin quest in the 33rd District?”

“It’s Clemence, kupo! Clemence Yubel!” corrected the moogle hurriedly, floating up beside the mithra.

“Yes,” replied the viera first, smiling at the energetic White Mage. “I’m Valdis, a fencer.”

“…Agnarm,” mumbled the hume warrior, apparently simmering from his anger. Mira made a mental note not to cross him as much as she could. He looked positively murderous.

“And I’m Azazel Marchosias, but you may refer to me as Azazel,” spoke the elf charmingly, though his focus lied not with Mira, but with the viera fencer. “I’m a Gunner, as well as a Black Mage.”

“Great!” exclaimed Mira cheerfully, clapping her hands together. “So we’ve got a White Mage, an Animist, a Warrior, a Fencer and a Gunner-Black Mage. Pretty good team to work with, I think. Let’s get this Mark Hunt done and over with!”

*

It was evening when they arrived in the 33rd District, and people were making their way home from work, resulting in a heavier traffic on the streets. Airships sailed across the skies like passing clouds, and the landmark of the region, a towering clock of several hundred feet tall, struck six, chiming loudly to remind everyone of the time.

“I’m pretty familiar with this place, so I’ve got a general idea where the gobs might be hiding!” claimed Mira, leading the group along the crowded streets of Rabanastre into the sparser 33rd District. Then she slipped almost randomly into a narrow alleyway, bringing the party deeper into the darker parts of the city, the slums, as some would put it bluntly.

“…You’re familiar with this kind of place?” asked Agnarm rhetorically, shooting looks of disgust at his filthy environ, perhaps worried about the grime staining his clothing.

Mira scowled unhappily, inferring a great deal from his question, but no one could see her expression, save for Clemence, for she was at the front with the trumpet-wielding moogle. Her reply was concise and curt, hoping to put an end to their dialogue, “I came here a few times to heal the sick and wounded.”

“Kupo! Mira, wa-!”

Poof! A cloud of smoke veiled their vision before Clemence could finish warning her of a sliver of thread right before her feet that spanned between the walls of the alley, followed by sounds of metal clashing against metal. The party had been thrown into complete disarray before the battle had even begun.

“What’s going on? Goblins aren’t supposed to be this smart!”

“There might be a Goblin Chieftain in their midst, kupo! Be on your guard!”

Mira charged out of the fog blindly, brandishing her staff wildly as she ran. “Phew! Managed to get outta that somehow…”

The mithra looked up, her sense of sight having returned to her. She was surrounded by goblins. The White Mage gulped. “Uh-oh…”

[Kenji]

With her innately keen senses, Valdis was not so thrown off as the rest of the party. She barely caught sight of the resident white mage taking off on her own, likely out of sheer surprise of triggering a trap. The viera reacted swiftly, well-aware that the welfare of their party took precedence over destruction of the immediate enemy, and took off at a sprint after the fleeing mithra, ignoring the moogle hollering after her with a "Wait, kupo!"

As the goblins closed on Mira, the fencer bounded into a leap, the toe of her stiletto - as opposed to the painful heel - making contact with the catgirl's shoulder as Valdis used her as a springboard, and rolled to a halt before her. Valdis quickly drew to a stand and swiped a hand forward, chucking an acquired stone into a goblin's eye and effectively stunning it. She shot a half-glance back at the white mage, smiling despite the circumstances. "You shouldn't run off like that; you'll only worry the rest of your party."

The viera's pleasant demeanor appropriately faded as she drew her rapier from the sling on her back, stepping into a thrust that cleanly pierced into the shoulder of the goblin she'd struck previously and prompting a pained yowl from the fiend. Wasting no precious time in her assault, Valdis withdrew her point and moved to attack the goblin again, her broad-bladed rapier biting into its flesh again with a well-placed slash cutting across its chest, leaving it vulnerable to a second thrust. Its life taken swiftly, the goblin pitched back and fell to the dirty slum ground dead.

Valdis took a step back toward Mira and brought her rapier close as she assumed a defensive posture, standing in defense of the white mage. The goblins, though initially taken aback by the sudden appearance of a foe they'd previously thought disoriented, began once more to close on the two, the fencer holding her ground and hoping the rest of their allies would come to even the odds...

[Picard]

Mira watched in awe and a mouth agape as the graceful Valdis took down the goblin with precise and swift strikes from her rapier, then stood in front of her to defend her from the incoming enemies, which the mithra counted to about four of them in total, some on top of garbage piles, others hiding behind, and the rest blocking their way through the alley, wielding knives and clubs and the like.

Something heavy fell behind them, as her keen ears heard, and she spun around immediately with her staff in hand, slamming whatever it was hard in the center, while Valdis did the exact same, her hit landing slightly higher. The goblin that ambushed them was sent flying through brick wall into a derelict warehouse, occupied by five other goblins, one of which stood out from the rest with a fanciful armor and a large scabbard. Probably their leader or something, mused Mira.

She looked up at Valdis, grinning from ear to ear. “See! I can fight, too.”

The goblin they struck leapt right back to its feet, cursing something in its own language angrily. The viera sighed, saying, “With a Healing Staff?”

Mira pouted. “C’mon! I prevented it from hurting you!”

Valdis chuckled, amused by her. “That you did. Thank you.”

The white-haired mithra leapt back to her feet, holding her staff close to her. “Guys! We’re over here!”

[CM]

By the time the mithra beckoned her comrades, the smoke had dissipated, revealing only an empty alley to the males who had lingered in the cloud. Azazel darted off to finish the skirmish with the goblins the women had started at the rear, a pistol drawn in each hand. Agnarm, concluding that the rest of the alley was clear, broke his defensive stance and followed the elf unhurriedly, still convinced these trifling goblins weren't worth his effort.

Clemence, however, was not so quick to flee the scene. Cautiously looking back down the alley, he got the feeling something wasn't right. He wasn't quite sure what it was. Maybe an unseemly sound registered at the back of his mind, or maybe it was just a gut feeling. Maybe it was nothing. Yes, it's probably nothing, he told himself.

But the moogle, still apprehensive about rushing into the battle with his awkward war trumpet, convinced himself he could help the group more by quickly confirming the alleyway's safety. Just a quick look-see for good measure. For safety's sake. Then he'd join his companions and spring into action, furiously swinging his horn like some valiant, blade-wielding Mog Knight.

In just a second.

Standing on his tip-toes, Clemence stepped furtively down the corridor, while in the background the goblin swarm poured out of the warehouse to drive off Mira and the crew. Though he was training as an animist now, his experience as a thief was all but forgotten, and it continued to serve Clemence well as he slunk silently around some garbage cans to make sure no goblins were hiding behind them. Finally he saw that the alley was indeed free of enemies. Summoning up his courage, he grasped his trumpet firmly, span back toward his mates and prepared to join the fray.

Okay, kupo, time to show these guys what I'm made-- whumph!

No sooner did the animist turn around than he felt the force of a goblin crashing upon him from above, knife in hand. In a split second Clemence was pinned to the ground with his assailant's body weighing down on his tiny chest, his trumpet scattered from his grip. Flailing instinctively he managed to smack the blade from the goblin's hands, but the grubby humanoid retaliated, using one hand to bestill the moogle's one free arm, and the other to connect a punishing Goblin Punch to his victim's face. And then another. Clemence let out a yelp of agony and desperation, hoping to attract the attention of his preoccupied teammates, but in his state of pained confusion he couldn't be sure if he conjured a scream or a whimper. He attempted to wriggle free but was vastly overpowered by the goblin's superior mass. A third crushing blow ensued.

Separated from his comrades and trapped in a severe position, terror began to overtake the animist. For the first time in his mark-hunting career, he began to worry for his life. He had faced dangerous situations before, but he always managed to pull through before they grew this dire. Whether it was roguish wiles or just dumb luck, Clemence had a knack for eluding such situations before they really arose. Never before had Clemence been backed so far into a corner; now that he was in, he feared he might not make it out.

Feeling helpless and alone, with no one to depend on but himself, Clemence groaned and turned his head in hopes of mitigating the ferocity of the next blow. And as he did, out of the corner of his eye, he swore could see Agnarm standing at the end of the alley, his sword drawn and a grimly sympathetic smirk on his face... watching for an instant before turning away to finally enter the battle raging between his allies and their marks.

[Picard]

Mira’s keen ears twitched, taking notice to the muffled scream of a familiar moogle some distance away from their combat zone. Four years as a White Mage, volunteering in humanitarian organizations in various parts of Ivalice had honed her already sharp hearing to cries of aid, and this time was no exception to her. She cast a glance over to the source of the sound, spotting a goblin atop the small frame of Clemence Yubel, pummeled by the barbaric green creature. Initially hoping to beckon Valdis over to help her in the rescue, she caught sight of her busy in the midst of two other goblins, in addition to the chieftain, whose mighty figure towered over even the tall viera, its footsteps causing minor tremors as it stomped towards the blonde fencer. Mira bit her lower lip, hesitant to rush off by herself again, remembering Valdis’ gentle reprimand. Should she charge in, or wait for the others?

“Oh, screw it all!” Mira leapt over the barricade of goblins before her, slipping out of the fighting and down the corridor, grabbing a brick lying in the vicinity of the broken wall as she broke into a sprint of breakneck speed towards Clemence, her footsteps light and quiet as a feather. Her agility was the birthright of the mithra race, and it proved more than useful in many occasions. Mostly for running away, but this time it was to save another life. “Oi, buttface!”

Her yelling had attracted the attention of the goblin, which looked over its shoulder just in time to see the brick plant right into its face, and it flew right off the moogle into the garbage trolley. She skidded to a halt right before running into Clemence, then fell to her knees to take a closer look at the wounded Animist. “Clemmy!”

“Kupo…” Clemence was disorientated and concussed, unable to recover so quickly. Mira muttered the incantation for a healing spell under her breath hastily, waving her staff over the moogle’s head as she did so, showering a warm, emerald light on him, causing bruises to fade and stars vanish from his vision. “Mira…?”

“Ah! Clemmy! Feelin’ any better? I cast a Cura on you!” exclaimed Mira happily, setting Clemence upright on his feet and petting his pom-pom. Her joy did not last long, however, for she had abruptly crumpled to the ground as the injured goblin sprung an attack on her from behind, and she responded a moment too late, having only time to whirl around to see her assailant jumping towards her with a metal pole it had pulled out from a nearby trash bag. Her arms trembled as she tried to force herself back up, but the pain still seared in her head, and she collapsed back to the floor again, seeing two Clemences in front of her, trying to talk to her. “Ugh…”

A Phoenix Down had fallen out of her bag, blown away by the wind, away from her blurring vision. Then everything faded to black.

[Terak]

What else could he do? Jarred from his ruthless beating and dumbfounded to see the white mage crumpled in defeat, all rational thought spilled out of Clemence's moogle mind. Thief instincts, super-heightened by his brush with mortality, screamed at him to grab his trumpet and flee the scene. Indeed, he realized his body had not even asked for his mind's permission in this, as his trumpet was already clasped tightly in his paws; however, his rationality was fighting its way back in, and in his moment of inner conflict, he faltered. This brief hesitation was all the time that the goblin, now sporting an ugly purplish bruise on his face, needed to close the small gap between them. His chance of escape lost, all viable plans abandoned Clemence, save for one very stupid one.  As the goblin, grinning, raised the cruel metal pipe for a skull-crushing swing, Clemence puffed himself up to his fullest and . . .

PRRRRAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!

The goblin flailed backwards back as he was blasted, pointblank, by over a hundred decibels of trumpet. It was almost comical. The goblin reeled back, bug-eyed, stumbling in an alarmed daze. Thief instincts told Clemence to slip away now while his foe was distracted, but he was inspired. Instead, grasping his horn in both paws, he rushed forward with renewed vigor to return his vengeance.

However, the goblin was not that stunned. He blocked the brave attack with his own grubby paw and roughly shoved the charging moogle aside. Clemence landed on the alley floor with a thump, nearly losing his trumpet for the second time. Down on his stomach, sore and humiliated, his nose suddenly twitched as he spotted something he'd missed before: a sparkling red feather.

Two gunshots rattled in his ears, and he saw the goblin land hard on the ground next to him. He now sported two bloody holes on his body, one on his chest and the other on his face. He was not moving. It took Clemence a moment before he realized that his trumpet call must have caught the attention of his allies; well, at least it had accomplished something. Azazel had some impressive aim.

Relieved of his combat duty, Clemence was back to his original role: support. Every moogle worth their salt had at least some training in basic chemistry, and so he hurried as fast as he could to Mira's still form whilst the battle din continued. Clutching the red Phoenix Down in his paw, he mentally rushed through the various item procedures in his head, fighting off his persistent headache all the while. Was the item to be eaten? Crushed and absorbed through the skin? Activated with a flame? Did he chant an incantation while slowly rotating in counter-clockwise circles? No, no, now he remembered.

Placing the feather on Mira's forehead and lightly pressing it with his paw, he closed his eyes (a reckless action in the midst of a brawl) and willed his intention to the magical item. To his astonishment, it melted away in an instant -- why wasn't animism this easy? -- followed by a bright flash of light. That would certainly draw attention.

"Clemmy! Did you save me?"

Incredibly, the young mithra was already awake and surprisingly refreshed thanks to the Phoenix Down. Clemence suddenly realized his paw was still pressed against her forehead in ritualistic fashion. He pulled it away hastily, coughing. "Erm, yes, you're awake, kupo. Never let your guard down like that, kupo."

"Thank you, Clemmy!" Mira cooed with a gleeful grin, and in a blink Clemence was lifted effortlessly off the ground and squished in a hug, as though he were a stuffed animal.

"R-release me this instant, kupo!" he shouted in muffled indignation.

He was returned to his feet, breathless and thoroughly stunned. Mira had already darted ahead, Healing Staff in hand, ready to assist in the fray. "C'mon, Clemmy, can't relax yet! We've gotta help out!"

[Lord High Summoner]

Azazel turned his vision from one goblin to another, had confirmed the death of the one attacking the young moogle, he launched another burst of bullets at the armored chest of the leader, to at least stun him or attempt to pierce through it. Though the rounds didn't pierce the tough armor of the goblin's armor, it did manage to slightly stun him and turn his attention to the actions of the elf who smiled back at him. Though he smiled at the goblin, Azazel's mind was the furthest thing from being friendly, his mind analyzed the situation and calculated his best plan for attack, the space they had been trapped in was fairly small, but he could be able to launch a small flurry of magic attacks if given the right opportunity, this was the slums after so water would be in abundance on the ground. It would be a simple feat for him to easily take a lightning based spell and chain it across the ground to finish this battle in one fell swoop. The only thing that would prevent him from doing so was his allies that were close by during the attack, but given the right warning that could be easily fixed.

"Everyone! Stand back, I'm going to throw some lightning and I don't want any of you to get hit! And unless you want to get blinded i'd advise covering your eyes." Said the elf in a unusually serious and stern voice.

He waited a few seconds for everyone to register what he said and the closest of his allies moved out of harms way just as Azazel reached inside him to tap the vast reserve of mana that dwelled within him. The air around him became heated and humid, a mist began to rise from his body and it slowly surrounded his hand, a small spark could be seen here and there as he raised his hand. The goblins began to take notice at this point and a panicked look was the unanimous look upon their faces, before they could fully register what was happening they began to lurch forward to attack. In the matter of a single moment, Azazel fired his guns once more and as soon as the bullets hit the armor of the chief goblin a large bolt of light struck him and immediately separated him from the world of the living, then the lightning arced through the bodies of the still standing goblins and dissipated into the ground with a mighty crack. Each goblin hit the ground, some dead and the others severely wounded from the shot of magic; Azazel returned his pistols to their holsters and the mist that had begun to creep around his evaporated into the air.

"WEll, that takes care of that, is everyone alright?"

[Picard]

~Clan Centurio HQ~

Bianco’s ears perked upwards when it noticed the band of warriors returning from their quest, their attire dirtied and bloodstained, but otherwise appearing only slightly scathed with minor bruises and cuts. Mira was carrying Clemence in her arms, hugging him close to her bosom like a plush toy, much to his dismay. Valdis wafted beside them, her composure relaxed as usual, while Azazel followed behind the viera, remaining an unfriendly distance away from Agnarm, whose face showed nothing but annoyance and the desire to complete their job as quickly as possible. The white moogle floated from his spot behind the desk, waving at them happily to welcome them back. “Kupo! How’s the mission?”

“We did it!” exclaimed the White Mage enthusiastically, squeezing Clemence harder as though to contain her happiness. The Animist complained futilely to her, trying to worm his way out of her embrace, but it was downright impossible, what with her mithra strength and all. Valdis chuckled at the comical duo, content with their success as well. “Can we claim our reward?”

“Sure you can, kupo! Congratulations on your first mission well-done, kupo!” Bianco seemed happy for them as well, reaching into the desk to withdraw a bag of gil, placing it on the table. “Here you go, kupo! Keep it the good work!”

“Mm!” Mira grinned at Bianco, finally releasing Clemence to take the money and distributing what little amount there was within to the group. The Animist fluttered away from her hurriedly, grumbling aloud as he stayed further away from her.

When Mira handed Agnarm the monetary reward, however, he pushed her hand aside. “Feh, I couldn’t give less of a shit about your measly gil. I’m out of this pathetic team.”

With that, the warrior left wordlessly, exiting the clan in broad strides.

Azazel shrugged nonchalantly. “Meh. He's a douchebag, anyway.”

“Kupo, um…” Bianco flew over to them, hesitant to speak his mind. “I have a request, if you could hear me out, kupo. The thing is… I received a missive a moment ago, and it’s an urgent mission to be carried out immediately, and there’s no one around to accept the mission, kupo, ‘cause it’s pretty late already... Do you think you guys can do it?”

“Sure! What’s the mission about?” asked Mira without missing a beat.

“Kupo! Don’t go accepting missions without asking the rest of us, kupo!” exclaimed Clemence, poking the White Mage on her cheek. “Anyway, let’s hear about it first, kupo.”

“It’s an escort mission, kupo. I don’t really have the authority to tell you everything in detail too, kupo, sorry,” replied the moogle, bowing its head to the party apologetically. “I-It’s a B-rank mission, kupo…”

“B-rank? It’s beyond our power,” said Valdis, arms crossed.

“Don’t worry, kupo! The escort has a guardian as well, just that they’d like additional security to be sure,” replied Bianco hurriedly.

“So… who are we escorting, and where to?” inquired Azazel, stepping forward out of the group. “If it’s a B-rank mission, that person must be pretty high up there in the social ladder, huh?”

“That would be me.” A lady descended from the stairs to the waiting lounge, apparently having been eavesdropping throughout the entire conversation for the chance to emerge. It was a Featherfolk with crimson wings, a trait rare even amongst her kind, and her hair bore a beautiful shade of gold, the same as her eyes. Another person walked behind her, a hume clad in black, his face veiled by a fox mask. The woman smiled at them and bowed curtsey. “Please escort me to the Archades, in the Kingdom of Archadia.”

“Y-you’re the princess of Lemurés, Iuria Wolph!” remarked Mira pointedly, eyes wide with amazement. “Th-that must mean…”

The man removed his mask, his black eyes staring coldly at them. “Leitholus Orlandeau. Just call me Lei.”


Name: Iuria Wolph
Age: 20
Race: Featherfolk
Class: Songtress, Summoner
Equipment: Ribbon, Brave Suit, Tynar Rouge
Image:

Name: Leitholus "Thunder God" Orlandeau
Age: 33
Race: Hume
Class: Holy Knight, Assassin
Equipment: H.F. Blade, Dual Hidden Blades (Bracer), Wires, Bulletproof Coat
Image:

Hey guys, to bypass word censor, do this:

Code:

ass[i][/i]hole