[h3]Ceridwen Phrys[/h3]
[hr]

To say that Ceridwen enjoyed the voyage from the old world to the new would be a gross misrepresentation of the truth. When someone of her sort - that is to say a bounty hunter - is forced to stay in such a proximity which one would usually only afford to those who they consider as close friends but instead with the scum that they hunted, then there is an undoubtedly high chance of tensions running high. 

Ceridwen had spent the past six weeks with an uncomfortable itch on her trigger finger and her magic running hot, with a searing heat throughout her veins. She'd held herself back as best she could, but a fair few of those god damned conscripts had a bone to pick with bounty hunters - even if it wasn't the Firehawk who had wronged them so. 

Still, six weeks passed just as fast as they always did and they were soon released to roam free on the New World. If you counted being under extreme scrutiny and regulation as roaming free, which Ceridwen had great certainty that most of those on the boats definitely would.

The city of New Stratton was a remarkable example of Ilyan architecture which gave Ceridwen an odd feeling of Deja Vu. She couldn't put words to the feeling, it reminded her of the cities back in the Old World, but in a way that felt like a long lost dream - or a nightmare. For the city represented a devastated representation of its former self, somewhat like the kind that one might encounter during a feverish dream. And another thing about the city - it god damn reeked. Many people had started to cover their noses while a select few had taken the option of throwing up somewhere towards the edges of the crowds.

The attack on her senses didn't end as they progressed through the base - although it didn't surprise Ceridwen one bit. The perfumes of Old World cities had no hope of making their way out here, and that was most evident in the Bunkhouse. If the to close for comfort layout of the boat ride was uncomfortable then this would be way, way worse. Of course, it wasn't as cramped as the ships were, but unlike the ships, this was a permanent fixture. No getting out of this place in six weeks as far as Ceridwen was concerned.

She hardly had the time to inspect the burlap blankets the kind souls in the army had provided them with before everyone was once again herded like sheep towards the next destination on their tour - a muddy field serving as the main courtyard of the operation. Everyone quickly hushed down while an officer began talking to them, some war hero if you asked Ceridwen, no typical officer out here would be in such clean clothes. That, and he couldn't fight due to his unarmed nature. 

His speech was short and sweet as far as they go, with the officer failing even to mention his name - something that higher ups usually enjoyed lording over their soldiers. Perhaps all his time out here had taught him that these conscripts didn't give a damn who he was. He was in such a hurry that when he asked for questions, of which there were some among the ranks, he has pretended not even to see the raised hands. 

Next up came the assignment of their squads. Ceridwen didn't recognise anyone in her own save one, an inquisitor. She'd seen their work over the last few years, and she'd heard some gossip about her on the boat. She didn't know too much, though. She glanced over at Ceridwen, and Ceri returned the gesture with a small wave and turned to listen to their assignment.

Trekking through some ruins didn't seem too bad a start, that meant that there were a limited number of places monsters could sprout from. One of her squad members did ask a question, and it was then that Ceri realised that he was another that she knew. Roland Axis. There had been a few bounties on the guy but none that Ceridwen had ever taken up. The guy didn't pay well enough for her - that, and he had some pretty good protection. She wondered what brought him out here; surely the authorities didn't manage to catch him and keep him there?

Shamblers, thats what he was asking about and the Inquisitor was all too keen to explain what they were. The churches of the Old World were forever resourceful, no wonder she was the one to know so much.  The inquisitor was also keen to get out there and get started on them - for different reasons than Ceridwen, but she felt the same way, giving only  small nod in recognition.