ShiningSector

✨Beyond The Veil✨

Vidar Cederblom

__________________________________________________________ Basic Information __________________________________________________________ • Name | Vidar Cederblom • Nickname(s) | 'Vid', 'White Death' (alias only used while disguised) • Age | Unknown - looks 31 • Gender | Male • Birthday | Unknown • Race | Fae • Rank/Status | Rogue Fae - Anarchist - Violent Vigilante Appearance __________________________________________________________ [+] • Height | 6'1" • Build | Tall, slim, and mildly tone • Eye Color | Emerald Green • Hair Color & Style | Silver hair in a slicked back style • Skin Tone | Pale - can even seem like stone or marble at times • Notable Marks | N/A • Typical Clothing Style | Predominantly black business attire, sporting a signature designer trench coat and gray turtleneck sweater - Black slacks and derby shoes • Aura/First Impression | Charming and seemingly important - The impression eventually gives way to instilling uneasiness and caution in observers • Voice | Notable Scandinavian accent - Sly and not deep Relationships __________________________________________________________ [+] • Openness to Friendship (1-5) | 3 • Openness to Romance (1-5) | 3 • Romantic Preferences | Indifferent • Current Romantic Interests | TBD • View on Forbidden Relationships | Indifferent... unless it involves Vampires, then no. • Biggest Turn-ons | ✦ Tenacity and Resolve ✦ Cunning and Perseverance ✦ Creativity • Biggest Turn-offs | ✦ Being a Vampire, duh ✦ Revelling in excess ✦ Stupidity and Cowardice • Known Friends | TBD • Known Enemies | Should be obvious by now... but Vampires • Known Family | Tilde Cederblom - Younger Sister (Deceased)

Psychology ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ • Hobbies/Interests | ✦ Chess ✦ Reading novels ✦ Poetry ✦ Scheming • Likes | ✦ Challenge ✦ Cunning and Resolve ✦ Arts and Crafts • Dislikes | ✦ Vampires ✦ Stupidity ✦ Injustice • Fears | ✦ The continuation of the status quo ✦ Never seeing his objectives fulfilled ✦ Loneilness • Habits | ✦ Sometimes lost in thought ✦ Admiring Ravens and Crows ✦ Almost leaping at the opportunity of a directed challenge ✦ May suddenly begin to lay down some poetry before a cornered opponent • Vices | ✦ Alcohol Core Motivation Beneath a prism we reside | mortals confiding through dark breaches before a greater lie | hunger and ambition by way of nighest means howling creatures betrothed to deceitful insecurity | fiends of fine thirst dine alongside heavy pride | those of yore and whimsy revel unbeknownst of everknowning time Loved peers slighted by fate | orphaned our are unguided souls | the trees of youth planted and bloom nevertheless Hidden by solidarity and flourished by the commune | yet roam fangs of vices below the veil | denied once more of shared blood My heart detached from familial bonds | an unheard proclamation sent to the heavens | loitering justice unmoved and uncaring The deaf kingdom continues onwards | whilst a polearm in hand divides the demons alike | a kolidescope adjoined to the manifest upon the final stage Personality Overview Vidar tries to make the most of life—emphasis on 'tries' when operating outside of his blood-soaked pursuits. Vidar is a hurt man who witnessed violence thrust against him and his house, resulting in him being the last surviving member of his lineage. Loneliness forever haunts him, and grief ever ails him. Yet the same pain he feels also serves as the fuel that drives his ambitions. And suppose violence is among the few things Halcyon understands. In that case, it is something Vidar is only happy to repay in kind... as long as it does not end up becoming another vice, for even Vidar can at least recognize that his personal crusade cannot become a thrill-enducing killing spree.

Background ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ • Current Occupation | Businessman - Vigilante • Level of Schooling | Master's Degree • Past Occupations | Unknown • Socioeconomic Status | Uperclass • History Summary | Although originally born to a noteworthy house amongst the Fae, Vidar would know little about his prestigious place in life until it all came crashing down at a young age. His parents were presumably dead, and little was left to claim as birthright; the only person he had beside him was his sister Tilde, only a year younger than he was. Both siblings had to rebuild from scratch and establish some existence for themselves. And they succeeded. Using whatever Fae tricks they had at their disposal, income, and information fell into their pockets through the liberal exploiting of pacts and deals with others. The pair failed together, struggled together, and succeeded together. They were inseparable. Fate, however, would deal Vidar another blow, and one he could never recover from. More than a decade later, Vidar came home from a job to discover something no Fae would ever want to find or experience. Traversing a now-wrecked household, furniture turned over, and luxuries broken and strewn about, lying at the center of the living room was a pale-white Tilde, dead and defiled. The only clue Vidar could find to her attackers was a pair of bite marks upon her neck, barely leaking into a meager puddle of blood. Vidar was now truly alone. Matters were made worse when the culprits, obviously Vampires, were never found again and brought to justice. A man who, before, was very easygoing and wanted to live life was devastated and wronged in the worst way possible. A family name no longer bearing any notable regard. The only person he loved and trusted was now dead at his feet. And the artificially and regularly manipulated world has seen fit to deny him any solace. Vidar now leads a shaky life, finding little enjoyment in what once brought him and his sister happiness. That life he resides in now is tempered and sharpened into a blade. If Halcyon did not correct this slight, he would do so himself, starting with the fiends who loudly proclaim their world their own.

Race-Specific Questions ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ✦ Race info ▸ Fae ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ • Element Affinity | Metal • Glamour Specialty | Glamourweaving and Reality Distortion • Views on Mortals | Mortals are foolish creatures. Yet they are a mass of ignorant victims wronged by the Glamour that hides Halcyon, whose terrifying and powerful denizens prey upon them. Still, they make for great, subtle tools. Wardens should be approached with caution. Annoying. • Views on Vampires | Disdainful. Hedonistic. Depraved. The Vampires see themselves as lords and lordesses of Halcyon, yet their vices plainly mirror - if not made worse - the ilk they thrive on. Of course, not all Vampires are irredeemable. It is only fitting that a tower constructed through greed and power should crumble beneath the weight of its architect's hubris. • Views on Lycan | Brutish and stubborn, but like the mortals, they work and fight to earn their keep, perhaps even more so. They are respectable until their habit of invoking bloody violence leaves much to be desired. Maybe easier to provoke and mislead than mortals. Troublesome if they lose control; must be put down if needed. Miscellaneous ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ • Theme Song | Equilibrium by Roman Heuser • Favorite Food | Anything involving alfredo • Favorite Animal(s) | Mostly corvids • Favorite Music Genre | Synth and Orchestral • Favorite Haunt | The Urban Grind Cafe and sometimes the Sinking Library • Signature Weapon | Short-staff steel Atgeir with a silver spike fitted at its apex, several silver stiletto daggers. • Preferred Vices | Alcohol • Pet Peeve | Repeatedly saying "um" in sentences • Guilty Pleasure | Boardgames and DnD

Beyond The Veil Interest Check

Here's a quick question. Do the fae have to look like their depiction in the lore or could they resemble some of their more animalistic or monstrous counterparts from mythology?

EDIT: forgot key wording

Beyond The Veil Interest Check

I would be certainly interested in jumping on board!

Avalia

Time: Morning
Location: Campsite outside Roshmi City
Interactions: Scathael @Apex Sunburn
Mentions: Scathael @Apex Sunburn, Mari @princess, and Thraash @funnyguy

---

To some capacity, Five regretted voicing his query.

Not that it wasn't a good or logical one. It was a potential solution to the quandary everyone was tackling, after all, one involving a child being brought into what would be a bloody affair. An indiscriminate one at that. Five intended to have Scathael reply to his question and not Vallana. Yet Vallana addressed Five's inquiry before her Dark Elf guardian could speak. The Warforged knew how devoted Scathael was to retaining the girl's fragile calm since their village was destroyed and seeing all the progress made seemingly crumbling as Vallana was moments away from breaking to tears as she indicated that there was no other family she was aware of who still lived. Scathael finally chimed in and concluded the other half of Five's concern by rejecting anyone or any business to look after the orphaned girl. A subtle growl, followed by slight rolling puffs of moist, heated air, emanated from Five, signaling his annoyance that a solution to the child's safety had still not reached an acceptable resolution.

Though in a surprising turn, at least to Five, Mari took it upon herself to watch out for Vallana. Since their brawl back at The Nest, Five had formed a not-so-appealing opinion of the Light Elf. Granted, he wasn't too fond of anyone within their group, or anyone for that matter. Her loudness and somewhat zany behavior before the massacre rubbed Five the wrong way, prompting him to presume how her other mental faculties could likely be as bad. He, however, did have to admit that his biases came into question after the bad news. The Light Elf became notably silent and seemed nearly as troubled as the two newcomers were as if emphasizing their blight and arriving at a personal understanding of the pain they undoubtedly felt. It would be a lesson learned for Five to better reassess a person's character. At the very least, the Warforged hadn't made his misgivings vocally known in the form of insults. Not yet, anyway.

Mari's proclamation, though, did carry another surprise and one that Five could respect. As he understood the Light Elf's method of combat, having witnessed it first hand, Mari's attunement to ranged fighting in combination with her crossbow and her skills in illusion magic did make her ideal in protecting Vallana. Keeping the child away from the fighting and hiding her behind a veil would most certainly address the tactical liabilities Five foresaw in bringing Vallana along. Scathael would add his lot in, which wasn't surprising, all things considered. After a few lines added by both the Dark Elf and Thraash, as well as the taking and ignoring of a couple of directed gibes that Five probably didn't even recognize at all, it seemed as though the issue had been, in fact, resolved.

<<WE'VE REACHED AN ACCORD THEN,>> said Five, <<WHAT SHALL OUR NEXT COURSE BE? WILL WE FINALLY HUNT?>>

Avalia

Time: Morning
Location: Campsite outside Roshmi City
Interactions: Scathael @Apex Sunburn
Mentions: Aerilyn @Alivefalling, Mari @princess, and Thraash @funnyguy

---

The Warforged noted Scathael's minor reluctance in accepting the mixture though paid the reception no mind, instead preferring to cut to the Dark Elf technical query, <<IT IS A BOON TO HAVE MY LIMB REJOINED. YOUR REPAIRS THUS FAR HAVE HELD UP. I DON'T DETECT ANY DEFICIENCIES IN MOTION.>>

As Five spoke, he openly flexed and stressed his unarmored limb outward, testing his arm once more, causing a chorus of unmuffled clicks and clangs to resonate Fingers curled and straightened individually, revealing the mechanical tendons pushing and pulling the articulating framework. Metallic fibers interwoven around his barely exposed radius and ulna components stretched efficiently around the different servos which coordinated the hundreds of motion processes executing all at once. Scathael's patchwork held firmly as the humeral constituents operated around the repaired site unopposed.

<<YOUR REPAIRS ARE APPRECIATED,>> Five concluded.

As the group conversation continued on, the topic of Vallana's safety unsurprisingly came to focus. Five viewed the child as a liability, that was for certain. Thraash, also unsurprisingly, shot what could be considered a jest towards the Warforged's direction. A crimson eye turned to face the Dragonborn in reply though they had a point. Even if they were to bring the child along, protecting her would prove difficult. Five had simulated several scenarios revolving her involvement and neither replication of reality seemed at all pleasing. Thraash's judgement was sound. The Warforged determined that his offensive potential would drop significantly if forced into a defensive position, not only subduing his maneuverability in his attacks but eliminating some of his other tricks with the idea of them unintentionally harming the young Demi-Human. The results were unacceptable.

Five's remaining free eye focused on Scathael and Vallana momentarily. It was plainly obvious ditching the child out in the wilderness was morally out of the question and would be collectively rejected. Suggesting an orphanage seemed approachable though based on Five's observations, that would prove to be a dubious solution, more so on Scathael's part. Still, it was a better conclusion, either that or finding someone else to look after Vallana, temporarily if need be.

<<SCATHAEL, DOES SHE-.>>

Several short buffs of steam shot from the Warforged. Something compelled Five to slightly shift the nature of his inquiry, now knowing that the Demi-Human beside Scathael had awoken. It was a rare thing for him to stop himself while speaking, especially when the notion was the adjusting of intrapersonal etiquette for his question. How odd, <<DOES, VALLANA, HAVE ANY RELATIVES LIVING OUTSIDE THE VILLAGE TO YOUR KNOWLEDGE? ASSOCIATES TO HER KIN? IF NOT, ARE THERE ANY FACILITIES NEARBY WHICH MAY WARD HER, IF ONLY TEMPORARILY?>>

Avalia

Time: Morning
Location: Campsite outside Roshmi City
Interactions: Scathael @Apex Sunburn
Mentions: Aerilyn @Alivefalling, Mari @princess, and Thraash @funnyguy

---

A new morning had come, and the mood within the campsite had yet to shift for the better. Most of the camp's occupants had become less inclined to spark any real casual small talk, and the more extensive discussions were far and few between. To Five, it was evident that everyone was still dealing with the shocking news - and the disturbing sight - of Scathael's village and its population being put to the flame. The Warforged that morning simply kept silent, only having a single optic monitoring the camp's perimeter and casually regarding the still-wakening group. At the same time, his remaining eyes were attenuated to the chemistry set before him.

When Mari and Thraash departed to acquire Scathael's services a few nights prior, Five remained at camp to attend to his attempted repairs. Aerilyn would've tried to generate a discussion or two to pass the time, but the Warforged, whether out of lingering wariness and distrust or having simply put all of his focus into his arm, had either ignored these social advances or grunted in response. Safe to say, it had been a relatively quiet evening after the loud-mouthing duo departed. Eventually, they would arrive a couple of hours later with Scathael in tow. Five would pry his eyes to meet the three, only to find that this, 'Scathael,' was, in fact, a Dark Elf. Five made no attempt to respond to Mari's introductions of the newcomer, and the Warforged stared at the individual who would be repairing him. <<REALLY?>> was the single word that finally escaped him, confusing everyone in attendance.

Though his disdain for Dark Elves remained undisclosed, Five begrudgingly cooperated with the grey-skinned Elf, allowing Scathael to peer into his unarmored limbs to take in the framework construction and note the damages present. For the most part, all Five did was comply and watch the Dark Elf plan about the repair work the following morning. Of course, it would be that following morning, and the unfortunate events that came with it infected everyone with gloomy frowns that persisted to the present day. Five understood this, perhaps more so, as both witness and perpetrator. Five had made it a point for himself not to relive the past or to recollect memories; there was no reason to dwell on maybes or what-ifs. Events that transpired were historical benchmarks to regard and nothing more. Such narrow lines of coded thinking derived from a prior state of simple programmed mentality. The Dwarves, however, gifted him with sapient and independent thought and the chaotic and unreasonable emotions that rebelled against instructions and execution. And so, the memories weren't as easy to suppress as he would have hoped.

The destruction of Scathael's village was described as a massacre. The various reports and descriptors divulged in the group discussion had ferried Five's troubled mind to a place he wanted to forget: the conflict between the dwarves and the dark elves. Namely, an operation where he and his Warforged squad struck out against an outpost lying behind enemy lines. The underlying stratagem: to pull the Dark Elves' attention away from the front. A distraction. His brethren began their assault at nightfall, and resistance was unexpectedly light. It was presumed that the encampment they attacked would host a reserve company of soldiers. Instead, its occupants were but a token force of troops, should it be called that, and a far more significant number of laborers. Civilians. The mechanical force had been programmed to determine if an individual was to be considered hostile by several telling factors. The mission, however, demanded total destruction, and in the ensuing chaos, what algorithms dictated specific actions had become garbled when the garrison mixed with the fleeing colonial citizenry. A bloodbath quickly ensued within minutes of the assault.

Five recalled himself cutting down a Dark Elf defender before turning the corner from a row of dwellings, coming to a firey scene of devastation. He had arrived at a main street where housing and other facilities were ablaze. People were running, screaming, trying to evade the murderous rampage brought forth by his unit. He began walking forward, attempting to identify anyone or anything that could be deemed a military target. A mother and their child had abruptly fallen into his path, likely fleeing the carnage, prompting him to halt. Five glared at the vulnerable and helpless pair as they looked back at him, no doubt scared beyond imagination. His ebony armor melded with the shadows cast by the arrangement of buildings, and the only elements of his presence were his glowing red eyes and his still blood-soaked sword, having been illuminated by the nearby inferno. The mother seemed paralyzed in fear, unable to move, while her young daughter cried relentlessly. Five remained motionless, simply judging the two dark elves until the words ((NO THREAT)) bloomed into his mind. He moved forward once more, causing the mother to embrace her child, fearing their manifested doom was about to strike them down. Five ignored them, and his only regard was stepping around the two non-combatants and resuming his mission. Afterward, the operation was considered a failure, primarily due to faulty intelligence. The massacre of a colonial settlement had indeed drawn attention away from the front lines. Yet, it had also given the dark elves a vengeful purpose. The tactical and strategic gains obtained from the attack were temporary at best, and pressure on the front escalated within a matter of days, bringing several intense assaults.

Whatever became of the two dark elves he spared that night was beyond him. What was perceivable to Five was their frightened expressions, laced with fear and uncertainty. The same expressions that painted the faces of Scathael and his plus-one, Vallana, the only survivor from their village. Five had little to say after the news came to him. As blunt as he was when speaking his mind, he even knew when to keep his metaphorical tongue in check, annoying as that was. At the very least, his repairs would continue regardless of the transpired revelations, something Five was somewhat surprised about. The Warforged would not expect the Scathael to continue their commission in light of the massacre of his and Vallana's village, yet the Dark Elf did so regardless. Five was skeptical if the obligation to his work compelled Scathael to carry out the repairs or if it was a matter of keeping his mind from dwelling on the current tragedy. Whatever it was that drove the dark Elf forward, Five wouldn't question.

However, what concerned him was the apparent fatigueless befalling Scathael and Vallana's presence in general. The appearance of the fox girl had certainly taken Five aback. The assembled party was nearing the appointed hour of hunting a Manticore, only to take in a child whom they would struggle to properly care for, much less even protect, should they insist on bringing with them. From a soldier's perspective, Vallana was a liability. Five, were he not restraining himself, would have demanded Vallana to leave, both for the benefit of the group's effectiveness and for her own good. Circumstances, however, complicated this notion since she had no family to return to besides her relationship with the Dark Elf. In essence, there was nowhere for her to go. Scathael's health was also a complication that Five became more concerned about. While the continuation of his repairs was appreciated, Five could see the dark Elf's ability to manage his personal time was declining. As Five observed closely, his tasks were solely set on his repairs and Vallana's care, with rest becoming a secondary task undertaken only after the first two were satisfied for the day. Five concluded that sleep deprivation was becoming a risk factor for the dark Elf, a fact that he would not suffer from should Scathael lose his edge as a result.

((HOW TROUBLESOME...)) he noted.

It was the following evenings Five found himself to be the most active. Not needing any sleep, there was no questioning him taking the first - and only - watch every night. During his vigil, Five took the time to test the repairs to his right arm. Admittedly, Scathael's efforts to rejoin his arm and maintain it were impressive. Five was almost sure the amputation of the damaged segments of clockwork was the only solution. Yet, to his annoyance, the Dark Elf had proved him wrong. Scathael had managed to repair many of the components Five had nearly written off and even fabricated patches to several crucial parts, guiding the complex locomotion to his afflicted limb. Five was sure to take note of every little detail as he purposely stressed each gear, piston, and crank through their paces. Thus far, everything appeared to hold together; it was all he could ask for at this juncture.

The remaining time not fiddling with his arm was spent fabricating new concoctions for his fogger device. The nerve agent he used on Thraash during their bout was nothing short of a success, especially since it had afflicted the Dragonborn within seconds of deployment. He had used the substance only a few times prior, with such proceedings being validation tests to prove its effectiveness. Yet it could still be improved upon, as Five noticed how the concoction, in its vapor form, could not spread as quickly as he would have liked, which no doubt enabled Mari and Aerilyn to take proper action against it. While he strove to improve that aspect, a thought came to mind when he recalled his observations of Scathael and Vallana. Neither of them, for their own reasons, had been able to rest well in light of recent events.

And he aimed to change that.

Five briefly humored the idea of a sleeping gas, which was undoubtedly plausible when considering the nerve compound would've shared several similar ingredients. Yet a vapor form for the new proposed agent wasn't his outcome. Instead, he sought a consumable method. With a few of the herbs he had on hand and harvesting some of the native flowers for their alchemic properties, it was a simple venture in developing a blend that could induce a relaxation effect, which the Dark Elf and the fox demihuman very much needed. Ironically, his efforts in helping the two were partially out of genuine concern for their state of mind. He figured that if Vallana could attain better rest, it would enable Scathael to do the same and reduce the likelihood of him making an error or two through the final stages of Five's repair. Simple practicality is all that it was for Five's part.

As he was wrapping up his little project, Mari broke the silence, proclaiming how upset she was, without explanation. Five paid no mind to the angsty Light Elf as he poured his work into a small satchel. Scathael would retort and demand quiet so Vallana could rest. At the same time, Thraash elaborated on the futility of such a request, given Mari's apparent agitation.

<<A REMEDY FOR YOUR CONCERN, SCATHAEL,>> came Five's dimmed voice as he produced the satchel and presented it to the dark Elf, <<SHOULD YOU AND YOUR KIN BEFALL TO TENSION, ADD THIS MIXTURE TO YOUR NEXT TEA. IT WILL CALM YOU TO SLUMBER.>>

TL;DR

Five remains at came while Mari and Thraash go to fetch Scathael. Although Five is annoyed that Scathael is a dark elf, he allows him to look over the damages sustained. Learning about the village massacre results in Five unintentionally recalling a military operation over a century ago while still under dwarven servitude. The mission resulted in a massacre as well which troubles Five when looking upon both Scathael and Vallana, prompting him to remedy this later on (though claiming for selfish and logical reasoning). For the next two days, Five tests out the repairs made to him thus far, which he is appreciative.

Avalia

Time: Evening
Location: Campsite outside Roshmi City
Interactions and mentions: Scathael @Apex Sunburn, Aerilyn @Alivefalling, Mari @princess, and Thraash @funnyguy

---

Although Aerilyn urged him to set Mari down, Five disregarded the request and waited for the light elf's explanation. Mari complied though only after apparently marveling over her suspended predicament. This, Scathael, Mari claimed, was an individual experienced in making repairs. Though whatever 'experience' that entailed, Mari hadn't specified. Yet specifics be damned at this point, the warforged couldn't afford to be picky now - even he was not finding any luck in accelerating his own repairs.

Still glaring at Mari, a sound akin to that of a groan echoed out from Five's shell just before he relented and gently lowered the light elf back to the earth, <<VERY WELL, AS YOU WERE.>>

Five's head then swiftly spun in Aerilyn's direction and appeared to lower into a bow, <<APOLOGIES.>>

And just like that Five withdrew back to his makeshift worksite and resumed where he left off with his broken limb. Though a single eye was now carefully observing the campsite inhabitants.

Avalia

Time: Evening
Location: Campsite outside Roshmi City
Interactions: Scathael @Apex Sunburn, Aerilyn @Alivefalling, Mari @princess, and Thraash @funnyguy

---

For the longest time, for someone to keep their word, as Five understood it, was a promise that would never be broken, that whatever duty behind its establishment would be upheld regardless of temptation. When Five agreed to not try to kill Mari and Thraash anymore, it was more of an official statement regarding a newly forged contract made on the spot. The Warforged, however, being an individual incapable of lying and typically the truthful sort, was set on carrying out and accomplishing the deal he had made, an order he had both created and determined to follow.

And yet Five was already regretting calling off his hunt, and the urge to murder his former quarry boiled within him.

It wasn't long after the newly assembled group had departed The Nest, now in tatters; Five's mechanical body had become a sudden topic of concern. The problem in question was how his right arm had finally succumbed to the wear and tear of battle and the ongoing weeks without upkeep. As they strode away from Roshmi City, Five could only speculate that a gear or a piston, perhaps both, maybe even two or more, simply cracked and snapped. The occurrence resulted in a near-catastrophic breakdown of his limb, with the clockwork assembly within his armor shell seizing up and falling apart. Everyone around him heard the pops and pings and the troubling blackened steam coming out of him from all the grinding metal. Thraash has a good laugh of the scene where Five's arm finally came loose and landed into the earth with a thud. Five himself awkwardly stared at the disabled and literally disarmed limb for a solid minute before he realized the vocal concerns being presented to him.

Since then, Five had settled at the party's campsite and worked for the last several hours trying to repair his arm. Five, however, was confident there was no real way to fix the damaged internals, not with his repair kit anyway. A professional would've been needed to repair the individual components, if not replace them if the goal was to make his limb and its connection to his body 'like-new' again. Instead, he had to come up with a bypass of sorts - a very complicated and complex procedure of removing redundant or damaged assemblies and rigging the remaining components through a new reconfiguration framework. As tedious as it would be, Five could certainly pull it off himself, provided he could retain his composure while using only the other functioning hand, and a large one at that, to complete the task. Going about the process, however, for Five was like operating on a person with a wrench. His hand was too massive to access his construction, and even manipulating the smaller parts with the tips of his claws was a process of trial and error where said pieces slipped from his grasp despite his precise movements.

Killing Mari and Thraash and getting his money to pay for that long-awaited tune-up would have avoided this mess, and that compelling option to carry such a deed out was still there. But Five had already accepted the deal, and the misfortune was now upon him. All he had to do now was work through it the best he could.

<<DAMN,>> muttered Five as a bolt slipped through his claws.

Eventually, Mari stumbled into the campsite excitedly, “Guysss! Guess what! Totally caught word of someone who can help Five. Apparently their name is Scathael and they-”

Five's eyes shot towards Mari, interested in her explanation of how this, Scathael could render assistance. However, the Light Elf had apparently blanked a moment later, distracted by the stew Aerilyn had brewed. The Warforged patiently waited for Mari to return to the topic she presented, only to find her taking a spot at the camp and preparing to fill her belly. Crimson hues glowed from Five's armor while steam shot out from various vents. He didn't take kindly to being ignored, especially in such a dimwitted fashion. Setting his tools down, his left arm extended over to where Mari sat while his claws hovered over head. In a quick but delicate motion, his hand went down and plucked her off the ground by grasping the back of Mari's shirt using the rubber pads on his fingertips. The scene would have played similarly to how a cat owner would lift their pet to scold them. He pulled the light elf closer to his face in that same motion, where all three optics peered at her.

<<SCATHAEL. "THEY"? CONTINUE,>> ordered Five.

Avalia

Time: Late Morning / Early Afternoon
Location: Roshmi City / The Nest
Interactions: Scathael @Apex Sunburn, @Alivefalling, Mari @princess, and Thraash @funnyguy
Current Equipment: Massive adamantine greatsword w/ Ethereal enchantment, heavy full-plated adamantine armor, magic nullification enchanted cuffs, standard backpack, rope (up to 50ft), wayfinder and timeteller, fire starter kit, first aid kit, chemist set to produce different mixtures for his fogger device, and small kit for minor repairs and maintenance

---

A silent Five remained quite and focused, contemplating Mari's alternative offer. Their target was a manticore. Five had hunted many creature, typically large game that netted him plenty of amas. A manticore on the other hand was a different kind of beast all together; a mesh of limbs from other creatures and paired with an impressive intellect and uncanny powers. If the rabbit girl's words were true, it had even enlisted the services of a group of goblins. The small green-skins wouldn't pose any immediate threat to most veteran adventures, unless they were highly coordinated. Especially true if they were following the directives from a Manticore. Should such a hunt be successful and with minimal damage suffered, the income gained would far surpass Mari and Thraash's combined bounties, easily recuperating the expenses of tracking the pair down and enough left over to even consider a tune-up or even a partial overhaul of his framework. Yet, was taking up such a dangerous task worth it? Further more, would working with known criminals in the long term invite unwanted attention from dark elf officials? Mari's apparent confidence aside, he could still finish off Thraash now within the moment of a second and then cut down the others soon afterwards. Though the income in comparison wouldn't completely make up for prior expenses, requiring him to immediately look for new work elsewhere.

A bellow of steam jetted from his helm, followed by a droning guttural growl. Part of him hoped they would've simply paid off their bounty or make a worst offer, justifying his execution of all three of them as a response. It was times like this he found the costly complication of his body an annoyance. Money, to him, was a life blood. And having more on hand made such complications quickly vanish. The moment the ejected steam had evaporated, the sword which hovered over Thraash's head ascended away, finding its way back to the magnetic birth that was Five's armored back.

<<YOUR OFFER,>> Five began, <<IS ACCEPTABLE. I WILL VOID MY INTEREST IN YOUR BOUNTIES IN EXCHANGE FOR ASSISTING IN HUNTING DOWN THIS MANTICORE OF YOURS AND SHARING THE PROFITS. THIS I WILL AGREE TO ONLY.>>

Though he eyes still remained fixed to their respective targets, he momentarily regarded the dragonborn still lying on the floor, but no doubt recovering by now. The sensation of cutting him down still remained but he would remain true to his words, <<YOUR COMPANION, THRAASH, WILL RECOVER MOMENTARILY. IT WOULD BE WISE FOR HIM TO DISPELL ANY REMENANT HOSTILITY HENCEFORTH.>>

Avalia

Time: Late Morning / Early Afternoon
Location: Roshmi City / The Nest
Interactions: Scathael @Apex Sunburn, @Alivefalling, Mari @princess, and Thraash @funnyguy
Current Equipment: Massive adamantine greatsword w/ Ethereal enchantment, heavy full-plated adamantine armor, magic nullification enchanted cuffs, standard backpack, rope (up to 50ft), wayfinder and timeteller, fire starter kit, first aid kit, chemist set to produce different mixtures for his fogger device, and small kit for minor repairs and maintenance

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Five's talons landed as expected, though, to his displeasure, they collided with something other than demihuman flesh. A defensive barrier snapped into reality before he could inflict severe pain and injury on his target and blocked his retaliatory strike. Supernatural sparks and lightning arced from the collision. It was the rabbit girl's barrier enhancement kicking in, another fact he had also expected, begrudgingly. Simply observing her shocked reaction regarding his potentially death-dealing claws informed Five that she had been caught unawares, and were it not for her enhancement, to say the least, she would have been yet one more problem resolved following Thrash's self-inflicted removal from the stage of battle. Five still had trouble processing or conceiving the rationale as to why the dragonborn failed to consider his early ploy and simply stumbled through it. Or, more specifically, breathing the visually sickly haze into his lungs and getting himself paralyzed. Given Thraash's biology and bodily chemistry, Five estimated that his scaly foe would be incapacitated for at least several minutes.

Plenty of time to rap this affair up.

Ever observant of his surroundings, Five watched as the long-eared demihuman, likely realizing her predicament, dived under his left arm, making a break for it and putting distance between himself and her. The moment she moved away, so true did her barrier, causing his smoldering left hand to fall through the now empty space and seize only air. Though at the heat of the moment, he attempted to take another swing at her, prompting his left arm to coil back and lash out. Yet he came to a screeching halt as his body seized up. The previous shockwave was still haunting him and interfered with the gears and servos that guided his limbs. Five growled as he recoiled and pivoted to face his seemingly only opponent left, actively fighting him. Though he had kept an eye on Mari, he noted how much of her efforts in their battle hadn't impacted him in any meaningful way. Five could even admit he had nearly forgotten about her. That is until she spoke up again.

"Hey!... BIG BOY! Time out! Why are you even doing this? Are they paying you a mountain of amas or something? I mean, I respect the grind and all, but seriously, hear me out," Five considered ignoring her again but seeing as though Thraash was out of commission and the rabbit girl was practically on standby, he silently allowed her to speak her piece. If anything, it simply gave him time to internally correct the mechanical deviations plaguing him, "... What if we have a job that can pay you more? I know it sounds like I'm grasping at straws because you're totally kicking ass... Buuut! If you like amas as much as we do, maybe you should hear us out. If you don't like what we have to say, then you can always continue trying to crush us. You seem like you're confident in your ability to do so it will hurt you absolutely none to chill out like five seconds."

<<YOU TALK TOO MUCH,>> Five loudly hissed as two jets of steam spewed from his facial vents.

Although she hadn't said it specifically, Five translated her speech as a plea deal in hopes of encouraging him to call off his assault. It was a good idea; aside from the fact he had them on the ropes, the opportunity to make more money was promising. However, the offer was made very late in the game. With one-third of their number dealt with, he could better manage the fight against the pair still standing against him. At that moment, his right arm made a series of loud metal clangs, followed by a few sparks spilling out from its joints. His arm had recovered from the shockwave, most of it anyway. This rejuvenating fact gave Five an idea. He would undoubtedly hear Mari's offer, but it would be on his terms. He pivoted again, slightly turning his chest plate towards the light elf, informing her he would regard her words.

<<YOU ASK WHY I AM DOING THIS. A PRICE HAS BEEN PLACED ON YOURS, AND THRAASH'S, HEADS. I AM A BOUNTY HUNTER, AND YOU ARE PREY,>> It was then Five began walking towards Thraash though his upper posture remained fixed.

<<YOU, MARI, OFFERED AN ALTERNATIVE METHOD OF EMPLOYMENT, SUGGESTING SUCH AN APPOINTMENT WOULD BE MORE PROFITABLE THAN TURNING THE TWO OF YOU IN, DEAD OR ALIVE,>> the moment Five reached Thraash's stunned and twitching body, he raised his right hand as high as he could and rotated it, prompting the sword within its grasp to turn along with it downward until the tip of the massive weapon was aligned with the dragonborn's neck. Five's red eyes seemed to glow brighter than ever before, <<QUERY: WHY SHOULD I ACCEPT YOUR PROPOSAL WHEN I CAN DISPATCH YOUR COMPANION NOW AND ELIMINATE YOU SOON AFTERWARDS? IF YOUR 'JOB' WILL BE MORE LUCRATIVE THAN THE PRICE OF YOUR HEADS COMBINED, AS YOU CLAIM, THEN ELABORATE.>>

Five oversaw the three. Though he was putting Thraash's fate in Mari's hands, he was genuinely interested in what kind of offer the light elf would have to formulate to get her and her partner out of this new situation. If she tried anything, he would end the dragonborn without hesitation. He would give Thraash the same courtesy should he somehow recover faster than expected. However, he doubted that would be an issue. The only concern he had, as slight as it was, was the girl with the hammer. By distancing herself, she gave Five the advantage of time to predict and formulate a countermeasure should she try to charge him again. Yet it is evident by now that she somehow had a role in this, too. He prepared for her report, should it be with more violence or diplomacy.

No matter the case, he would get what he wanted.