Purg

... People who are more than acquaintances are usually called "friends." Additionally, if supports give bonuses, wouldn't it be more likely that people would give them out? Even more additionally, relationship by level should be determined by the people involved in the supports.

Could always comment on the support thing above, yo.

"We're here because we were told to be here. The men in charge are looking for something in particular, and Corthrone may be where we find it. It's an unassuming object - I hope you understand that I won't tell you quite what it is, simply because there are some things that I feel can't be shared, even if I do know them. Besides that, Corthrone really is a wonderful city for men of mine and Andy's trades - we're always looking for new components and merchants that carry them, and we have a much higher chance of finding them here than in Highrise or Keeparch - they're both lovely cities, but neither can compare to the moving market." He coughed, considering how to best answer the last question - his interest in Eltiar. "I haven't lied to you, Stark. Eltiar - Eisig - whatever his name, he is a good friend to me. And to you as well, I think. I hope you've come to understand that, that we're both lucky to have such a good man in our company... because, from what you told me, he may be making himself scarce, soon enough." He hoped he was over-analyzing, that this was all a series of badly timed coincidences, that this series of events wasn't leading to the end he could predict. "From what I've heard - from you, and from others - and what I know, Oakheim... was likely burned by a member of the organization. Perhaps not a well-liked member, but, one nonetheless, and probably pursuing the same thing all of us are. And the man that attacked you in Alabaste, the lightning thrower... Well, one of Eltiar's comrades had some talent with electricity. Twice is a coincidence, but..." "But I fear that Eltiar may be in danger - that the organization may see him now as opposing their goals, and that they might deal with him as such. Perhaps others already know this - perhaps he is already hunted - or perhaps I'm missing some key points. Perhaps the attacker in Alabaste is unrelated to everything - perhaps he was the rogue agent, not Eltiar." "... Either way, I fear that the answer may make itself apparent sooner, rather than later." ~-~ Dom turned to Fargo once they had settled the caravan in a new spot. "I hadn't planned on leaving the city - not before we find out where Stark's found himself. But we couldn't stay in the same place as where those paladins saw us - it's still unsafe to stay here, but it's certainly unlikely that we'll be found by the armored thugs before we are by Stark." The spot wasn't much different than the spot they had left, but was further from the main building - which would hopefully mean it was further from the paladin's station of command. It worried him, though, that they had moved without Stark knowing. Perhaps in a bit, he'd go try to find him among the tents - still in his cloak, of course. He didn't like the idea of being caught alone and unaware by the men he had just sent running.

Was worth the wait, I think, can finally get this show on the road.

Then she'll angst that the ropes are too tight, the rock's too cold, the sun's in her eyes, she has a hellsword that brings her misfortune, there are demons that want her and everyone she knows dead, etc. Although I hear of some clown going around and making people smile, maybe he could help!

Then people would claim out-of-character. Thank you, I'll be here all week!

I will not deny most of this, although I'm mostly only mean to people that deserve it, nice or not.

Sent you a PM regarding something semi-specific, don't really want to bring it up in topic until we've discussed it a bit. If that's alright, of course.

Dunno about anyone else, I'm planning on 0 holy blood characters, only partially because I don't know a damn thing about the world.

Here I was thinking this was just some random person wanting to start something to big for them. You seem to be level-headed enough, and you're certainly verbose enough to sway my opinion. I'll consider joining, even though I have no idea about the source material.

The point I'm trying to make, is that, yes, magic is a great thing. For mages. For everyone else, the normal people, who can't use even a tiny amount of it, it means that, if they want to get healed, they have to go to a mage. They want to wage war? Well, they're stuck using archaic forms of weaponry, unless they get mages. It wouldn't take long for a magiocracy to be set up, putting all power into the hands of people born with magical talent, putting everyone else in a lower serving class. When you consider how the physical/magic split is in a typical Fire Emblem game (FE7 for this example), it's 49 physical characters, 16 magical, off the list on other parts of this site (which includes some enemy and NPC characters). When the chances of being born with magical talent are about 1 in 4 in that scenario, it seems kinda off that those 49 people would just let mages rule over their lives, without trying to find a way around it.

A world where technology and science are left to stagnate while only people born with magical talent hold tons of power as a result seems like a dumb world to me. Just sayin'.

'Scalled Super Robot Wars, lA. Also, pass.

Fair enough, I'm not fishing for compliments, though, I already know I'm the best thing since canned soup.

"I wasn't kidding about dealing with you myself. Endangering our lives... That makes you a liability, Lyle. If it happens again, I'll be sure to make sure it won't happen a third time, before I leave this town with as much of my life as I can." He stuck the sword in the ground, impressed to see it stand after he let go of the hilt, and knelt to pick up his discarded knives. "A paladin's sword is made to be effective against monsters, as well as a few of the more dangerous races. As valuable it would be to sell, I think it would be best to keep it for now - perhaps Stark's blade is getting dull, or we could find someone else willing to use it." As he spoke, he grabbed one of the larger rags designed from the torn clothes, forming a crude cloth sheath by wrapping it around the blade, and tying a knot around the hilt. "I'll hold onto it for now - not that I don't trust anyone else, but a mercenary with a sword is hardly out of the ordinary." Of course, why would he need to be seen with it? Jeph had a point about fleeing the scene of the encounter - there was no guarantee that more paladins wouldn't swarm as soon as the pair that had just left had reported to their higher-ups. He quickly pulled a cloak off of his belt, while thrusting the sword through one of the straps Charlie had made extra on the belt, then threw the cloak over everything, pulling the hood over his head. Now he was just another cloaked man, and, from what he had seen in the streets, there were many of those - even Lyle was one of those, as well as Blaine. "This should be an adequate disguise for the moment," he said calmly, to Jeph. "Becoming scarce seems like a good idea, after that display. Perhaps we should move to another area in relation to the government building - we've been sitting in this place too long anyways, I think."

D'awww, thanks, although they don't superhate me anymore, it's pretty neat.

The "trouble with Rita" part wasn't the point of my post, it was the second part. If you can't think of a reason why a character could be useful towards the group's goal, and the RPer can't give a good reason, besides "More people = more allies in battle," then I personally don't think there's much reason in having them approved in the first place. It's better to see a few characters well-developed and letting the group dynamic stabilize, rather than having a ton of characters that gum up the clockwork.

Which is why most JRPGs have the party that save the world from the massive evil organization be comprised of as many as 8 members at times.

First Jeph, and then Lyle offering drinks, and the second man attempting to sweeten the deal. Something about the idea of drinking (or getting hookers) didn't appeal to Dom right now, though - like maybe they should be doing something more important. He couldn't think of anything, though - he had already seen the market, and either didn't have enough money to buy what he wanted (and didn't want to impose on the others), or the things he could afford didn't interest him. He thought about making another round through the shifting streets, until Lyle's return put a damper on that plan, two armored brutes chasing after him. And now he was expected to assist him, after his life was put on the line? It didn't matter. If he left Lyle to die, it would simply be a precursor to his own death to the servants of whatever god they believed was right at the time. He wasn't sure what the consequences for fighting in the city would be - it probably wouldn't be much better than simply submitting to the paladins - but he could always have the chance to flee if he could incapacitate the knights. He had his doubts that he'd make it that far, but that didn't stop him from stepping forward, drawing his stilettos from his belt - the belt given to him simply because he was a champion. He had taken down an armored foe with less helpful weaponry yesterday - two, while he was fully armed, shouldn't be much more trouble. "It seems there's a misunderstanding, gentlemen," he said calmly, taking steady steps towards the men. He wondered if they were used to their intended prey approaching them so carefully, instead of shrinking back and begging for their lives. "I've done no wrongdoings since I've entered this city, and yet you threaten my life. I'd prefer to keep my record clean, but when the choice is between a good name and death... Well, I'm no idiot, I'm afraid." He sidestepped a lunge from the smaller knight - not that he was much smaller, his armor was just less imposing, probably a lower rank than his companion - and stepped towards the man, thrusting one of his daggers at the man's neck, just underneath the helmet. Rather than stabbing, he pulled up, satisfied to see the helmet pop off with little resistance - if there were straps holding it on, they certainly weren't very sturdy. That meant one man had an exposed face - the other was just as impenetrable as before, but would certainly be less likely to strike now if he thought that his main advantage could be so easily removed. Dom was surprised, though, when the paladin dropped his sword and attempted to grab him. It was an obvious move, really, and he was cross at himself for not having considered it. One of his arms was pinned to his side by the man's grip - unfortunately for the paladin, it was his left arm, the arm not level with his face, holding a knife. To be fair, it was through no fault of his own - he had tried to grab around both his shoulders, but Dom managed to wriggle his advantaged arm out before his squeeze tightened. It didn't take much - a forceful jab in the man's shoulder (again, between the plates), and the grip loosened enough to duck out of. He tossed his knives aside in favor of the bastard sword at his feet. Sweeping it around while he was close to the man tripped him, knocking him onto his back. Wounded, without his helmet and weapon, the man made no attempt to rise, instead trusting his comrade of dealing with Dom. The mercenary, though, rose, sword in hand, and didn't move. "I've bested your friend," he said calmly, dropping the weapon beside the stunned knight. "And trust me when I say I could probably do the same with you, if you're so used to easy targets and using might to overpower your foes. I won't kill, unlike you holy men, however - I'd suggest withdrawing. Perhaps you can return later, or find us another day, to hunt us down when the conditions better suit you. I'd doubt it, though - while you've been here, I can only imagine what actual threats to order and society could be doing. You're wasting your time here, though - we're travelers, champions, mercenaries, merchants. Not thieves. If Lyle says he didn't steal from that man - well, you're just going to have to take him at his word." "If he causes any more trouble, though, then I'll deal with him myself. I'd rather not have someone endangering my life for any reason, and just because he's earned the benefit of the doubt for now doesn't mean I'll give him that mercy if there's a next time."

Drin suppressed a small frown when Andrew arrived - he had hoped to not be disturbed while he had this trade of information, but, unlike some other cells, there was really no way to communicate with his fellow members, other than in person. He nodded to Stark. "Friend and comrade. Stark, this is Andy - also known as Cog. Andy, this is Stark - a friend of Eisig. I'm not sure if you've ever met him, but he's a good friend, and a dependable man." He called the waitress over, pointing her towards the new arrival. "We're discussing him, actually - it's been so long since I've seen him, and Stark says he saw him recently. You're free to sit in, if you'd like, and our guest doesn't mind - I imagine Free and Tim are elsewhere, and this city has been so difficult for your work." Now that introductions were out of the way - he hoped Stark wouldn't be too upset with the interruption, but, really, there was nothing Drin could have done about it - it was time for another round of information. This would be a tricky one, but, luckily, he had answered this one to others whom he didn't want to lie to. "The group we find ourselves in is... expansive, to say the least. I've no idea the number involved in it, but we're somewhat exclusive, and reclusive, as well. Many of us have some talent or ability that makes us special - my knack with machinery, Andy's clockwork skills, as you've no doubt noticed by now, and, something you're obviously aware of, Eisig's magical prowess. There is a purpose to our movements and groupings, I believe, but rare is it that we know anything about it - believe it or not, but Andy and I are simple rank and file for our business. Eisig, on the other hand..." He smiled. "He was once given a chance at leadership, the ability to oversee everything, to truly know what we were working for." Memories of the old days, some as distant as his youth, flooded his mind as he paused for a drink. "He turned it down, of course," he continued, his glass empty. "It would've been a tremendous increase in responsibility for him, and his daughter was - is - still growing, so I don't think I can blame him. The hassle of the job is evident to all of us - it's been far too long since I've seen my own children." "I hope you can forgive my not knowing everything you want an answer to, but there's really only so much I'm allowed to know. Now, I suppose it's my turn to ask another question?" He thought for a moment, analyzing what he had been told and what he said himself. "You said Eisig saved you again in Alabaste. I take it, then, that he's saved you before. Has it been recently as well? Or is it, like my own encounters with him, years ago, clouded by memories?" ~-~ Dom shrugged back. Unlike his conversational partner, he couldn't speak well without his words. "I have no idea." He was already certain that this city wasn't the place for him, and he could imagine that the others - or most of them, at least - agreed. And he certainly wouldn't mind traveling with them again. He could trust them - most of them - and depend on them in the event of combat, and assumed that they each had knowledge about the world that he lacked. He supposed he had an answer, then. "As long as it takes to find something better. Whether that has me stopping before or after the rest of you, my journey will go on until I reach the end." He vaguely wondered if that made any sense without the context of his thoughts.

Maybe we're not based on FE and shouldn't let fortune tellers have such a powerful grasp on world economics.

Drin sipped from his glass carefully. Trading information was always a careful business - he couldn't afford to get into trouble by accidentally letting something slip, so he had to consider his answers as best as he could. He couldn't spend too long thinking, though - Stark was expecting answers, and within a timely manner. "Drin Arathin," he said calmly, putting the glass down. "And the same people who call Eltiar - because that is his real name, you see - anyways, the same people who call him Eisig call me Tinker." He smiled. "You're quick to catch on, I have to say, but I didn't see any reason to keep it a secret if my denial would be suspicious. I'll answer whatever questions you have, within reason, if you can do the same for me." "Your arm... Could you explain to me how that happened?" He thought of pulling out a notepad, to try to record his answer down as best he could - but that would likely only distract his conversational partner, and he wanted him to answer as naturally as possible. "I mean, you said you saw Eltiar there, after all - I'd like to know what occurred, if you don't mind." If he mentioned another mage, a man who could throw lightning... That would certainly confirm his suspicions. But how would Eisig fit into everything then? If this man's injury - a friend of Eisig - involved the Shizen cell, would it mean he was the enemy? He wasn't quite sure what he could believe, not until he got his answers. He was getting ahead of himself - it happened fairly frequently. He would just have to be patient, as tiresome as it would be.

... That was quite a wound. It had been healed already, that much was clear, but had it been much worse, Drin figured that the man - Stark, he said - would need some help from Andy. Since the healing, it was difficult to tell what had caused it, but his gut and memory could agree on something - it was a terrible burn, of some nature. He recalled Eisig's comrade, the only one he knew of, at least - a man, a master of lightning. It was possible, then, that the Shizen cell had been responsible for Stark's injuries. Furthermore, he could assume he still counted Eisig as a friend, at least at the moment - if he hadn't, he would've been immediately suspicious of him, and he couldn't see any sign of anxiety in his demeanor, only surprise. He could probably trust him, then. A drink wouldn't hurt, either. "I'd be happy to accompany you, although I insist on paying. We could share stories about our mutual friend, I'm sure we both have questions for each other about that." He shook the outstretched hand with his unarmored hand, careful not to be too erratic in his enthusiasm, he wouldn't want to hurt his shoulder more than it already had been. "And questions about each other, I believe." The bar, like all other buildings in Corthrone, was a large tent, packed ass to elbow with people of all walks of life. Off-duty guards, caravansary, merchants, bums - anyone and everyone could find their way here, no matter how often it moved. And it did move often - Drin wouldn't have been surprised if the posts were being pulled up by the time he ordered his gin. However, it seemed they hadn't yet found a spot to take the business to, so he felt confident in using one of the rarely-used stools, motioning for Stark to sit next to him. "We may not be able to sit and talk here for long, but it's certainly better than standing out in the street," he said with a grin.

The voice cinched it - that was the man from years ago, the man he had seen with Eisig. Much had changed in the time that had passed - both in himself, and in the man in front of him. He hadn't heard anything from Eisig in quite some time - he wondered if it was the same with his friend. To answer that question, though, he'd have to explain himself, before he lost any chance of finding out. "Oh, I'm no merchant," he said, still following after the larger man. "An inventor, really, I work on just about anything, weapons, tools, prosthetics, if they've been made I've probably worked on them a bit! I'm rather good at it, if I do say so myself." His mind was racing at the possibilities of what he could discuss - he had so many projects, after all - but remembered that he was after a link to the leader of the Shizen cell, not a stranger to bore with his hobbies. "But that's all beside the point," he said, calming himself down as he finally caught up with him. "The important thing is, I believe I'm a bit of a friend of a friend to you. I don't think we've ever met personally, but you look like a man I saw several years ago with an acquaintance of mine, a man named Eisig - no, that's not his true name, forgive me, my memory is a bit clouded, it seems. You'd probably know him as Eltiar." He smiled, trying to judge to see if the world reflected what his mind remembered. "I was wondering, perhaps, if you've seen him lately. It's been at least a year since I saw him last, even longer since we've spoken more than courtesies to each other, and I'll admit I've rather missed his insights." "Of course, if I'm mistaken and you're not the man I think you are, a thousand apologies. You just look so much alike to a man I'd seen him with before - although it was long ago, and it's possible my old eyes are fooling me." He didn't want to admit it, but it was a possibility - it had been so long, and he had only had a few minutes' opportunity to see the man's face - but, if he had to place a probability, he was at least 80% sure that this man was the same from so long ago.