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Gonna...keep an eye on this...
So will this mainly be a combat-orientated RP?

Even at the height of his power and influence, Isidore had not had the pleasure of sleeping with two women of extraordinary beauty. Part of it, perhaps, may have been his age at that time; certainly, his youth had been occupied with proclivities sexual in nature, such that if not for more pressing concerns, he’d have indulged in such debauchery freely. But though his heart beat faster, though he had regained his physical youth and some semblance of his vernal predilections, Isidore kept his distance within that cozy alcove, only occasionally reaching over to scratch Octavia behind the ears.

The alcove offered sufficient cover from the blizzard, and Leuca’s stories kept his mind busy. It was a pleasure, that he could hold onto his thoughts so easily. Superhuman when it came to the mind too. Wonderful. The Apostles were humans, armored and xenophobic, claiming that this world was false. It was worth interrogating, to see if they were otherworlders like himself and Octavia, if they held the same goal of ‘return’ as Nicholas did. The long-eared came from further south and were possibly nomadic; their current home being Tamaln. The Bastellians lived across a snowy plain, emphasis on ‘snowy’. Either this world had no seasons, or they were far north enough that snow didn’t melt even in summer, even across open plains with no mountain to cast shadow. The Urutha, the Shadow Elves, lived in Gloomhollow, with previously friendly connections with the Dwarves, and Leuca had come here to foster more positive relationships between the Urutha and the Sirithen. The Dwarves, at least a faction within their society, does not approve of this, however. Lord Firebeard is an individual of influence within their own society, and perhaps, if Leuca’s own information was out-of-date, had become the leader of the Dwarves. That may be unlikely though. Firebeard specifically wanted the elf, and would be in trouble if such was found out. So the Dwarves were splintered. Some amongst them, perhaps, wished to sabotage relationships between the Urutha and the Sirithen. Now, why would the Dwarves wish for this upon their allies?

Dwarves? He pulled at the threads of his memory a bit more. Dirithen, that was what Augusta had called them. Interesting naming conventions then, for the people present. Sirithen for the pale and long-eared. Dirithen for the short and stocky. Urutha for the ‘shadow elves’.

More thoughts connected, a network of names, faces, and ideas, but after a certain point, Isidore was content to close his eyes and listen to the sound of the wind and the snow, the thunder and the blast of a distant horn. More Apostles to worry about, but with snow this thick, they’d have to walk over the alcove to see it. Nothing to worry about then.

Nothing, but he still only snatched snippets of sleep throughout the night and woke up bleary-eyed.

Isidore forced himself up anyways. The deathly quiet and the miserable cold reminded him of the location, and the aches of his body reminded him of how long it’s been since he’d rested properly. He grabbed a handful of snow, scrubbing it over his face to chase away the last of his sleepiness, and then split up portions of preserved food for the others to eat. With four mouths, they’d be going through the rations at twice the speed, but with any hope, they’d find a way to the Urutha before then as well. Which meant they couldn’t linger.

He dug out of the shelter, brushed the snow off the blanket they’d used, melted it loose, and then flung it off dramatically, exposing any of his still-sleepy companions to the painful brightness of pure white snow. It was bothersome, that the snow had covered up any paths and had served too to hide any dangerous crevasses in the mountainside, but there wasn’t much that could be done about it.

“Should advance early,” Isidore said. He removed the cloak he had pilfered from the knight and tossed it towards Augusta. There were only two, and both the Dirithen and the Apostles cared only for two people within this group. “Hoods up, Leuca, Augusta. With luck, they’ll only see three humans.”

There it was again. ‘Luck’. He narrowed his eyes.

“Any signs for Gloomhollow to look out for?”
The Rien working at the San-Li recruitment office only gave a confused look at Lugh as the man said nothing for a whole three minutes, then bowed and walked off. It was certainly one of the stranger encounters they’ve had in recent memory, but after a couple more seconds, they discarded that particular memory. No point in lingering upon the rather average-looking Immortal who’d come into the office, after all.

Gan’Bol, on the other hand, had a much more involved experience with the kiddo before him. Calace’s indignation had drawn more than just a couple gazes in her direction, but the man who she addressed remained unaffected by her braggadocio. For all her words, after all, Calace still had the look of a newbie adventurer to her; unarmed and unarmored, with only her shoes as her noteworthy equipment. So the man chuckled at her vitriol instead, and took another long sip from his gourd. Up close, the stench of alcohol was even stronger, enough that she became a bit woozy just by stepping up to the man. He stuck a finger in his fat ear, digging out some wax, and then looked back up at her.

“Alright, sure, you’ve got spirit, little girlie, but you seem to be getting the wrong idea here,” Gan’Bol drawled. “One, I don’t make it a habit of raising my hand against kiddos, so your ‘stature’ disqualifies you from ‘squaring up’ as well. Two, the Gaku-Rei aren’t exactly keen on paperwork. Everyone’s free to join, ya see, but we’re also free to tell anyone to piss off too. Not like we’re so desperate that we’ll employ children and the dead, after all.”

The man took another sip, holding up his finger as he did so to hush whatever complaints may pop up.

“But tantrums and such would ruin my day, so how ‘bout this?” His tone dropped into a conspiratorial whisper. “All sorts of merchants will be heading off to the Mora-Sho clan. Plenty of targets, y’see. Pull off a raid, get some proof, and I’ll pretend those platform shoes you’re wearing there count as part of your actual height, girlie. These are easy marks, so I'll give you...three days to pull one off. Anymore, and you're too slow to be riding with us. That sound good, or do I have to find a daycare for ya after all?”
@Cu Chulainn@Haha
Individually, each worm that had plunged themselves into Magpie’s body was weak. But collectively? While pain was a sensation that the system could reduce, other tactile sensations, such as the slimy, wriggling grossness of a corpse-puppeteering worm? That remained the same, and as their flesh was squished between the brawler’s incredible strength, she suffered the full extent of that sensation, piecemeal meat sticking to her body. Not just that, but Magpie, in her blind terror, discovered something else.

While teammates could not injure each other, you could always injure yourself.

Though her attempts at dislodging the worms manifested often in the form of pulling at the wriggling masses, the few slaps and claps directed at herself did a number on her own HP, dropping it down by another 67. Such was the danger, after all, of having STR that was so much greater than your own END. If nothing else, however, most of the worms had been obliterated during Magpie’s little monkey dance, and only a few still wriggled about, entangled between her fingers or in her hair.

Ames, locked down in a life-or-death situation, struggled as well, with no allies close enough to offer him assistance. The Phantom Flame Bangles ignited at his command though, more HP offered up to the crucible that was combat as ghostly fire wreathed the warriors sword. Above him, the undead oni vibrated at the sight of flame, its flesh wriggling with the worms that controlled its body, before redoubling its efforts to turn Ames into a bloody pulp. Raising its fists up, it struck him with frenzied rage, the force enough to create a crater beneath them. The blackened earth fractured, cracks forming in the hardened dirt. But the warrior remained undaunted. He played Cacophony Concord on Stylish mode, and even if his own mind couldn’t come up with an immediate response, he understood one thing.

He had to dodge.

With rapid head movements almost akin to a boxer, Ames managed to deflect the brunt of the assault, receiving only 83 damage from the combo before they rammed their sword into the rotten stomach of the creature. Fire lit up its insides, revealing a second structure of ‘veins’ where the worms routed, and Ames was struck by another wave of nauseating fumes. But the effects were immediate as well. The creature vibrated grotesquely once more as fire spread from inside out, until its body suddenly went slack. Worms, dozens upon dozens of worms, escaped from whatever part of the body they could, bursting out from festering wounds, wriggling out of the orifices of the face. They left the meatbag behind, and immediately fell upon Ames instead, splattering against his clothing. The worms didn’t infest him yet though; the glow of the flaming sword seemed to be causing some conflict between primal fear and function.

That same primal fear, was what caused the second oni beside Ames to hesitate as well. As it took a step back from the bright light of his sword, Amulak had a perfect opportunity to skewer it. Virtual veins surged with electrifying power, and this time around, he felt something more. An extra beat of energy, an extra pulse of power. Coalescing in the sky, the Spell Spear rocketed downwards, piercing into the monster’s body and discharging its arcane effects. The oni twitched briefly, body wriggling at the curious assault, but then broke loose, its milky eyes turned briefly Amulak and Klein. Had the paralysis effect not taken effect? Or had the spell, single-target in nature, only affected a single worm out of a hundred?

Rather than charge, however, it turned away instead, rushing towards the still-panicked Magpie. At speeds rivaling that of a semi-truck, the monster brought its half-rotten arm out, planning on flat-out tearing the Brawler’s head off with a good old-fashioned clothesline.

Raime would be able to understand why that choice was made though. Like a musician, he continued to send arrows singing through the air, towards the now-incandescent oni, but this time, even that was denied. The one-armed oni moved in defense of its ally, blocking the arrows with its body. This whole fight had been a matter of incompatibility for the Scout. He lacked the magical ability to destroy the worms and lacked the physical ability to destroy the oni, and now, he lacked even the ability to target who he wished. All he could do was watch now.

A thunderous vibration. The consumption of all the SP that lingered unspent within a corpse. The earth giving away in a landmine-esque explosion, as the bull-hoisting oni leapt up. Ten meters. Twenty meters. Fifty meters. One hundred meters. At the apex of its ascent, it shifted downwards, the bus-sized phantasmal bull now pointed towards its quarry: Klein and Amulak.

It was a sight to blot out the sun, if the fog of the Thunderstruck Grove had not already hidden it from view.

The meteor fell, and as it did, it screamed.
@Shovel@Searat@Psyker Landshark@OwO@Yankee

There was a thrum of warmth throughout her body and a message box popped up in front of Ari.

Application Accepted.
Welcome to [Cacophony Concord Connect]!

Zhi-Toren nodded, content with continuing her own meal. “Well, you’ve got a debt to pay, right? Since you’ve joined and all…here.” From the inner pocket of her suit, the woman drew out a slim, leather card case and popped it open. There was a void-like space within that seemed to swallow up her fingers as she reached inside, before she pulled out a stack of bills, set in denominations of 10,000 rishi. “Here you are, Ari. Once you’re done settling your accounts, meet me up at the address here…” Another extension of her fingers into the void of the card case, and this time a proper business card was removed. “…and I’ll introduce you to the boss properly to go over your duties as a field agent. We can set up an expedition team for the sewer palace after, and if things go well, then you can even look forward to a bonus!”

The woman waved.

“So hey, get out there and get it done, Ari!”
@Greengoat
Here's the full version of the DnD spell. It's a lot more than just parlor tricks.

This spell is a minor magical trick that novice spellcasters use for practice. You create one of the following magical effects within range:

You create an instantaneous, harmless sensory effect, such as a shower of sparks, a puff of wind, faint musical notes, or an odd odor.
You instantaneously light or snuff out a candle, a torch, or a small campfire.
You instantaneously clean or soil an object no larger than 1 cubic foot.
You chill, warm, or flavor up to 1 cubic foot of nonliving material for 1 hour.
You make a color, a small mark, or a symbol appear on an object or a surface for 1 hour.
You create a nonmagical trinket or an illusory image that can fit in your hand and that lasts until the end of your next turn.

If you cast this spell multiple times, you can have up to three of its non-instantaneous effects active at a time, and you can dismiss such an effect as an action.


Based off brwntwn's own description though, yes, Newt's magic is much weaker than the DnD version. Which makes sense.
Do you mean explanations for all the other optional skills that you didn't choose, Dark Cloud?
Falls are the new truck.
Bruh, if ya got it, ya gotta flaunt it. Shit looks smooth man.

What, did you leverage a connection or something? Just for a dunk meme?

@brwntwn Also sheet should be complete, with appearance pasted and skills selected.
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