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Leon nodded, carefully stepping along the ground, testing the strength of the floorboards with each step. It was unlikely that any of Gunalar's minions would come running at the sound of a creaking floorboard in such a dilapidated building, but he still preferred to be careful. As he reached the first door, he stopped and stilled his breathing, closing his eyes to focus on the sounds around him. As expected Iliskra quickly faded from his senses, and while he could hear the occasional rat scratching away inside of the walls he could hear nothing larger for the moment.

Slowly, he reached out and touched the door handle, the lock broken long ago likely by looters or one of the thugs. Pushing it open carefully, he eyed the room only to see an empty bedroom, likely originally belonging to one of the children of the owners before the house fell into disrepair. The bed was in reasonable condition, but also looked used, probably one of the more comfortable places to catch a nap in between whatever it is that Gunalar and his minions did. A broken window let in a chill draft, stirring the dust in a way Leon might have found spooky as a child.

As tempting as it was to search for any secrets that might have been missed by Gunalar, the job came first and there were clearly no targets inside of this room. Leon carefully pulled the door closed, but with the broken lock it was not going to latch. The maskarran glanced down the hallway towards the main double doors, wondering if perhaps that would be the master bedroom. If Gunalar was into maintaining appearances, he would have claimed that room as his own to show ownership over the hideout, but Leon doubted he was the type to walk up four flights of stairs every time he wanted to take a nap.

A check of the second room revealed much the same as the first, though the bed was missing. Perhaps it had been dragged downstairs or broken up and sold for scrap. Aside from dust and rodents, the room held nothing of interest to the Maskarran. Looking back for Iliskra, Leon began to advance on the double doors, waiting for her to join him or for the sounds of trouble to reach his ears.
What would the characters know about each other and their powers?
@Herald Excellent choice. Feel free to add them to the character tab when you have a moment!

I take it Grey Square is just a memorial, and not an office?


Depends on how it affects gameplay, originally I was going to snag Oliver fields and one other, so I wrote up a little memorial place for it, then I saw Savant snagged Oliver, so I repicked, but I kinda liked the memorial so I folded it in. Burberry is a rich district right? So everything should be in there. Editing now.
@Herald Whoops, my apologies that you had to re-write a bit. ^^; Everything looks good here, except for the district. Would you be willing to change it to any other district besides Industrial? I didn't point it out specifically in the OOC, so it would have been easy to miss. ^^; Industrial districts can be attacked or expanded into later.

Besides that, Leon looks awesome and you'll be more than welcome to add them to the character tab after that small change.


Switched to Burberry
Huh, thought Industrial districts were off-limits for starting off?


Whoops, did I miss this someplace? Been fighting off a cold the last few days so I keep having to reread info
Tentative Character, I had to do a big rewrite after the Commissioner came out as a character.

pouts at Estylwen

Feedback is welcome. Went with a Lion transformation since I didn't want to copy Wolf Among Us

For a moment, Leon's pride stung and he felt a sharp retort building in the back of his head, threatening to make even more noise than Elthel had with her tirade. After all, the last time she had been here, she lost half her party and nearly got her... boss? lover? both? It didn't matter right now... Killed. Even if the man had been the one responsible for making the decision to meet Gunalar, they had already failed to inflict serious damage on his group before.

A Maskarran was trained to kill their emotions first though, so he suppressed it and admitted to himself that perhaps she had a point. He was not used to working with anyone other than other Maskarrans so the idea that one person in his group might have more information than the rest had slipped his mind. "If you're done?," he asked, idly wondering what the odds were that the remaining two to four possible targets, assuming they didn't have visitors of their own, were on their way to this very spot. "Thank you," it was his best offer at peace.

"Two more dead," he continued, turning to look through the corridors, "either lead on, or by all means, stay here since we're tied up on kills."

Part of him was curious at the anger. She had deliberately called him out as a Maskarran earlier, and the name was hardly unknown among thieves and assassins, so he had written it off as unimportant. Regardless, there was a job to do, and they were now over halfway to finishing it if Elthel's numbers had been right.
Challenge Accepted.

Val eyed the open space that was to be used for training. He wasn't surprised to see that it was so empty, he had seen enough Wild powers in use even over the last few days of his life to surmise that very little could survive if a Wild truly let loose. And the fact that he had cut a deal with what he hoped was one of the most physically intimidating types also reminded him daily of their destructive power. Although the feeling of red hot chains around his heart had eased as he had become used to Mercy's presence, anytime the Wild became inflamed he could feel the chains tighten and burn once again.

He had been expecting to train with Le Frey, the soldier's Wild clearly a good match against Mercy in terms of physical power and dexterity. He had also expected a dozen or so Ghost Corp riflemen with AE rounds to be trained on him at all times in case his Wild went.. well, wild. To be facing down a man that seemed to be just human was unexpected, and Val raised an eyebrow when the man's cloak hit the ground. What kind of game was he playing? Even without weapons, Mercy would crush a regular human like an empty canteen. Was this meant to measure Val's skill?

”Alright. Try to hit me, Guardian.”

Val pushed his curiosity to the side, though it was a sign of just how far he had been taken off guard by the situation that he hadn't yet attacked. Lawless were undisciplined fighters by nature, and to take on a military man, Val needed every advantage he could get, including surprise and first strike, which he had just lost in his hesitation.

The even ground. No obstacles. No weapons. Not even bad weather or the exhaustion of previous combat were present to tip the scales. All of it meant that their individual skill, creativity, and will were the only things that mattered in this match.

Val sighed a bit, his body seemingly relaxed as he took the extra moment to decide on a pattern of attack. Against someone untrained, it might have looked like a surrender or refusal to fight, but the subtle shift in weight to Val's lead foot gave away his attack.

Val dashed forward, a sloppy right punch aimed towards the General's nose that was expected to fail. If the man had half Val's fighting experience, it was the most obvious attack he could make and easily countered. The trick was to anticipate the counter when you knew your opening strike was going to fail. He pulled the strike short, instead using the momentum from the slight turn of his body and leaning into it to spin and lash out with his back leg aimed at the General's center mass. If he was lucky, he could drive the General back onto his own cloak, hopefully making his footing uncertain.
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