The Black Knight Mercenary Company

[DeamonAndae19]

Disclaimer:- This Thread is for the Story, AND any feedback from other members of Elliquiy, it is also part Collaboration, part re-improvisation, and was originally a roleplay on another site between myself and some friends, I have already received the permission to use locations and characters involved by their respective creators.

Content contained:-
Mild Fantasy Violence.
Mild Blood References.
Very Mild Cursing.

The World of Blagotha, and The Black Knights

War within, War without, War unending. This is a phrase that had been used to describe the continent of Blagotha for more than two centuries. It has been engulfed in civil war for more than those two centuries, and neither side has come to an agreement yet. These sides are the Monarchy, which seeks to maintain its hold on the continent, and the Rebellion, which seeks to overthrow the Monarchy and usher in a period of Democracy. Each side seeks to tip the balance through use of Mercenary companies. Their loyalties are as fluid as water, loyal only to the next highest bidder, and will gladly betray their side for a sack of gold pieces.

The Black Knight Mercenary Services were formed by a man who is now called Master Garrick, a man reputed to have a strict code of chivalry, and the skill to uphold it. The man gathered people of like-mindedness, and formed a roaming mercenary band which acted in a Robin Hoodesque manner, defending the weak and punishing the strong who tried to push around the weak. Eventually, Garrick learned that his band of mercenaries, however chivalrous, would be unable to keep with the demand of help that the people needed, and so, he decided to expand it into a company, recruiting people of pure intentions and strength of arms to his side. It was said that one of his companions, Mervar the wise was able to divine the intentions of even the most practiced disassembler, and sent away those who held corruption in their hearts, and Garrick himself tested the new recruits' strength at arms.

Eventually, Garrick died to old age after decades of helping the poor, and his legacy lived on in the mercenary company even after he died. The soldiers held his teachings of chivalry and protecting the weak close to their breasts, and sought to emulate his actions, defending the weak and asking for nothing more than thanks. Now, its at its 3rd master, and it has expanded to a large operation operating out of the centre of Blagotha, defending against occassionaly raids by both the Monarchy and Rebellion. The position allows them to come to the aid of anyone in the quickest time possible, and its numerous teams are constantly on call, only ever returning to replenish supplies, and occassionally drawing new recruits from the approved ranks to replace any losses.

Unlike most Mercenary companies, "Black Knight Services" stands apart from the brutish, animalistic fighting. They are a company that has a strict code, not to help either of the sides win against each other. They are hated by Monarchy, and Rebellion alike. They take missions in order to better the lives of the regular citizens, oand to save lives. These include eradication of beasts that have taken up residence in a village, the protection of a merchant convoy from bandits, the preservation of sacred grounds, and even denying armies entrace to a village. The warriors that make up the "Black Knight Services" all have a strict code of honour not to attack those that cannot defend themselves, and to finish the job, no matter how hard, and no matter the cost.

The internal structure of BNS is divided into teams. These teams make use of different specialists to complete a contract. Usually, these teams consist of a technician, a medic, a close quarters trooper, and a ranged trooper, but variations have made themselves known. Technicians are the soldiers who specialise in utility, such as opening doors, diplomacy, and occassionally even interroguation. They are the most useful members of a team, and priority of choice is often given to those teams who are more active. Medics are self explanitory. They keep the team up and running, and heal weounds, or at least delay the onset of death until tehy can get to a proper facility. Because of the conditions under which they must work with, medics are also trained in combat. Close quarters troopers, commonly called Melees, are the members of the team who do the brunt of the work, holding the line, cutting through it, and defeating the enemy. They constitute for approximately 70% of the medic's work. The ranged trooper usually specialises in either single-target elimination, where they pick off the leaders of an army, or they specialise in crowd control, picking off multiple enemies at once from a distance to make it easier on the melee troopers. While those form the core of a team, other variations, such as a Magus, are rare, but known. Magi in Blagotha are followed by a prescence of both fear and awe. These magicians are able to conjure up different things, depending on their powers. They can crush the minds of their opponents, turning them into a lifeless husk, or even summon great beasts to defeat their enemies. These, however, are a rare resource, and are kept in an inner circle that is called the Arcanus Majorum. They almost form a separate entity of their own within the BKMS, but they are by no means exempt from regular work.

This story, follows the tale of the two most experienced teams of The Black Knights, fighting Rebels, and opposing the Empire, all for, of course, the right price.


Chapter 1: Insertion

"... GO!!"

That was the single word that left the mouth of Allen Varritan, leader of Team one of The Black Nights, being one of the most trusted members of the Company, clearly, he had the best team, despite their individual quirks, they still had yet to prove otherwise. That word, was more than a command, it was a trigger, the trigger of a series of events.

The first of these events was the movement of his team technician, Arngrim Helquist, many referred to Arngrim as 'The Hand of Death' and they'd be partly right, having died at the age of 18, Arngrim made a deal with the Death of Blagotha, in exchange for his soul, Arngrim was allowed to live on, and do so with a particularly unique ability, the ability, to harvest souls.

However, he did not only harvest souls, he used them in combat, to create traps and bombs, combining soul with crest to create the shell of these beasts, one of which, dubbed 'Blastphemy' rose from the earth with a simple wave of the technician's hand, floating for a brief moment, before it was punted towards the door.

The beast-bomb detonated on contact, sending chunks of timber and masonry flying into the fort, each fragment large enough to crush or impale a man, all if which, did just that, allowing confusion to spread as Team one entered the fort.

First of the team to enter was a gargantuan man, standing at over 7 feet tall, and as broad as the hole now in the wall, Garrett Brick, along with his blade and companion 'Jormungand'. It was rumoured that no member of the Arcanus Majorum division could go near this man, as either Garrett or his Sword had the inert ability to absorb all magical energy in the area, the truth was, Garrett Brick was not just a man, he was half Golem, and only one man knew this fact, himself.

For a few small moments, nothing interesting happened, due to the small fact that there were no longer any living souls in the entrance chamber of the fort, at least, none that weren't Black Knights.

Following the large man came Allen and Arngrim, followed by three others, two women, and a man, it was these three that made up the second half of Team one, The Healer, The Spy, and The Paladin.

Magda, as she was simply known, was the Healer of Team one, however, she didn't act as most healers did, instead of relying completely on her latent magical ability, she preferred to rely on natural reagents, and save her power for something Major.

Mira Zandeon, the mistress Spy, she'd spent many years amongst the thieves of the Imperial city, living as a street urchin, until she attempted to pick Arngrim's pocket, she then had a choice, return to the Black Knight citadel, or lose her soul whilst still living, clearly, she chose the first option. An expert at infiltration and sabotage, her custom made bombs can rival the beast-bombs of Arngrim.

Devon Devine, This enigmatic Paladin was originally one of the Emperor's personal guards, when the Emperor sent him to spy on the Mercenary Company, Devon discovered that the 'Enemies of the Empire' weren't the demon's they were said to be, with the exception of Arngrim, possibly, despite this, and his loathing of the truly dark, he and Arngrim have been good friends since Devon's transferral to The BKMS.

---------------------

Once all six members of the team had entered the fort, Allen turned to the others.

"Don't forget your cards guys, I'll be making contact as always, Arny, Devon, you're on the enemy storehouse, get that thing destroyed, if we can't kill them all, we'll starve them out, Mira, you and Magda go and deal with the Barracks, we don't want them all surrounding us now, do we? As for you, Garrett... Just kill stuff, I'll go and give the signal for Kojuuro and Team two... Now go"

His voice was smooth, almost as smooth as the soft moonlight coming from the hole in the wall. The cards he had mentioned were the method used by the team to communicate over a distance, each card had it's own special property, yet, Allen had an entire Tarot deck set aside for communication, his own, was the King of Cups.

Each member of Team one had the card that described them most, Magda's was the Queen of Swords, Garrett was in possession of The Hangman, Mira had The Fool, Devon's was the Paladin (Fittingly of course), and Arngrim's, well... That was more a practical joke on Allen's part, as was calling the man Arny, Arngrim's card, you ask? Arngrim bore the card, of Death.

_______________________________________


Yes, I know it's nothing special at the moment, but, it'll get better when Team Two arrive... They're a little more, uhm, interesting.

All feedback, so long as it's constructive, is welcome.

Also, because I'm feeling generous, if you have a character that you feel may fit into this story, and you have no issues with another portraying them, feel free to submit that character in thread (Once I've been approved, feel free to PM the submission.) I will post a character Template a little later on.

For now, though SHOWAH!!!!

[DeamonAndae19]

(I completely forgot to add this, and once approved, I shall edit it into the Opening Post.)

The Team Roster:-

Allen Verritan:- Team One Leader
Created by:- Harbringer

Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide

Name: Allen Varritan
Age (Must be older than 18 to join BKS): 28
Gender: Male
Appearance:

Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide

Personality: A lovable rogue would be the best way to describe Allen. He is just as likely to cheat you out of money, as he is to treat you to lunch, however, after their consecutive losses, everyone refuses to play cards with him when something is on the line. If you took once glance at him, you would never believe him to be a leader of one of Black Knight Mercenary Services' most prominent teams, nor would you think him any threat as he shuffles his cards, a roguish smile on his face. While he is unpredictable, his most defining feature is his charisma, to both his enemies and allies. Even when in combat, Allen displays his poker face, a constant smile displayed on his lips as he looks at them from underneath his hat, however, his is calm and composed, ignoring everything around him.
Specialisation (E.G Technician, Medic): Ranged Magus/ Leader
Abilities: Allen makes use of several cards. While that may not sound threatening, it will when I mention that they are made out of razor sharp metal. He is incredibly skilled at hurling them at an incredibly quick speed, using them to slice up his enemies at a distance. These cards range from regular playing cards, to tarot cards. However, Allen holds a deck that can be found nowhere else, a mystical deck of cards that he keeps in his right breast pocket. These cards contain potent magics, each card containing a different spell that he can cast. Ones taht his teammates aleready know are spells like fireball, avalanche and concussive force, but he holds a much more sinister card in his deck...one he hopes he will never have to use.
Weapons: Many, many decks of different cards.
Bio: Little is known about Allen's past, but suffice to say that whatever is known is less than savoury. Born in Dawair, a large port-city of Blagotha, Allen was left in a tough neighbourhood in the collective arms of a popular little tavern located in the backalleys of Dawair. The tavern raised the child best they could, providing what little education they had, and feeding him waht bland food they could make. Travellers passing by told Allen stories of their adventures, speaking of sailing in the high seas, the killing of ferocious beasts, and the fighting in war. Soon, Allen became almost infatuated with the idea of adventuring. He would go on for hours and hours, annoying the workers there, however, as they all saw him as a son, they bore with it.

As Allen grew up, the idea of adventuring never parted with him. He held it dear to his heart. However, he was forced to face the grim reality when he realised one thing. To go adventuring, one needed supplies, and when one needed supplies, one needed money. In his position, it would be near impossible to borrow from those he knew, so he started to work, slowly gaining money. However, he wasn't gaining it quick enough, and young Allen was an impatient teenager. He resorted to...other methods. During his lifelong stay at the tavern/inn, a travelling entertainer had taught him some tricks as he stayed for a week. Even after he left, he left Allen an old deck of cards, telling him to hold onto them. Allen did. He started to do, flipping, shuffling, and performing tricks the stranger had taught him. Going out into the city, Allen started to perform tricks, wowing the crowds with his mastery of card techniques, however, even that didn't bring in enough income to satisfy his needs. He resorted to more blackhanded techniques. He started to enter gambling dens, using his card techniques to switch his hand and win the competition. Even when he was accused of cheating, no-one could prove it. It was as if he had changed the cards into the deck without anyone looking. Truth be told, it was a sleight of hand technique that the entertainer had taught him. That man hadn't been just a simple entertainer after all...he had also taught some other things to Allen.

One day, after a particularly high-stakes game of poker, Allen was ambushed outside  by a group of thugs, their patron demanding his money back. Refusing, Allen brought himself into a fighting stance that the entertainer had taught him. It was then that his cards showed their true nature. The 'entertainer' had been a Magus, one of those rare individuals who possessed control over the magic hereditarily flowing through their veins. He had recognised Allen's potential as a Magus after walking through the door, seeing the magic circuits within his body burning intensely. It matched the magus' own in all but size. The Magus was getting on in life, and not even magic could make him immortal. And so he gave the young prodigy, then unaware of his potential, his deck of magical cards. These cards, unlike normal magic, had already had the sacrifice made in order to create them, thus eliminating the need for constant sacrifice and equal exchange. Disguising the cards as an old, musty deck of playing cards, he gave them to the child, and gave him rudimentary training in the unknown techniques, disguising them as parlour tricks. Then he left, leaving the young man to flourish on his own. Allen, unaware of why the cards had suddenly shifted, threw the card as the man had describe, the thin sheet of metal slicing through the air and impacting on the man's arm, before suddenly detonating, but there was no explosion, just a sudden burst of force. 'Concussion wave'. The man's limb was blown off, and the thugs, suddenly cowed by this unknown power, ran for their lives, their master trailing after them, a ragged stump being the only remainder of his arm. Still stunned at what just happened, Allen stared at the card which fell to the ground, covered in blood. It bore the symbol of a fractured skill.

After that incident, Allen was constantly in danger. Apparently, the man he had wounded was quite powerful in the underworld, and he wanted this brat dead. Time after time, he would defend himself with that deck, and he would win. That was, until he was attacked en masse and stuck in the inn. A team of Black Knights who happened to be in town rushed to the scene, and eliminated the thugs, essentially saving the young Allen. When their assigned Magus saw Allen, his eyes widened, and he coerced his team to get the child. Paying off Allen's debt to the tavern, they led him back to the Black Knight HQ, where he was inducted into the Arcanus Majorum. There, he was trained, although the Magi there couldn't do much, as his form of magic was very unique. It was virtually unheard of. His training was a lot more limited, and he himself was forced to learn on his own, training in the nuances of his art, and discovering it step-by-step, and piece-by-piece. Although the Arcanus constituted for most of his lessons, he was also taught how to handle projectile weapons properly, and it expanded on his already progidous throwing skills. It taught him about aerodynamics, and how to use them to his advantage.

Eventually, he was sent on his first mission with Team 17, on a simple task of clearing a bandit camp as their attached Magus. From there, he was switched from team to team, as most Magi are. Magi are treated as a type of auxiliary. They were sent where they were needed, but some teams just took a magus, and signed him onto the team, with the permission of the Arcanus Majorum, after large reams of paperwork. Team one, needing someone to attend a high-stakes card game to maintain their cover, hired Allen to be their bait. They made him the bait of their operation. After luring out the main target with promises of a dive if they shared profits, Team once pounced on him, capturing him, however, the man's security detail was not far behind, along with several other security details who wanted to silence the intruders. For an hour, the 6 members of Team 1, including Allen, held out in a chokepoint, until the relief Teams 5 and 9 broke through to provide an escape. From then on, Team one started to favour Allen when they needed a Magus from the Arcanus Majorum. Eventually, the then leader of Team 1 decided to finally make it official. Allen would finally become a permanent addition to the team.

After wading through all the paperwork, Allen was formally inducted into the team, and it raised several cheers. After a year of working with them, things turned sour. An informant gave them false information, and led them into a Monarchy trap. Despte the large amount of soldiers they killed, they were overwhelmed, and when the relief Teams 21, 17, 8 and 4 finally broke through the wall of soldiers, they found Allen amidst the carnage, his hands gripping metal playing cards and his eyes and hands glowing with baelfire as he flung the cards around, ribbons of blood flashing through the air. Tearing him from the fight, the Black Knights retreated from the fight, bringing along the only survivor.

After being passed around once more as an Auxiliary, Allen was finally sick of it. He set up a meeting with the Master of the Company and requested that they rebuild Team one, with him at its head. The Master, aware that a large gap was left when Team one died, decided to approve of the idea, granting Allen permission to recreate Team one and uphold its legacy, provided he inducted willing members. And so, Allen did just that, asking those he trusted from barious teams to come join him. Some did, others were too bonded with their team and refused to leave. Nevertheless, Allen gathered a mighty number of warriors, more than enough to revive Team one, and so, it began once more.

Other (Any quirks, or anything I may have missed): When left with nothing else to do, Allen takes out one of his many packs of cards, and starts to shuffle them. This helps him to think, as he takes comfort in the familiar action. Almost never takes off his hat.

Arngrim Helquist:- Team One Technician.
Created by:- Myself.

Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide

Name: Arngrim Helquist

Age: 24

Gender: Male

Appearance:

Personality: Quiet and reserved, never offers his opinion as it's normally rather Morbid, will join in with basic conversation but rarely answers questions about his thoughts. when in battle he becomes almost emotionless, controlling his rage perfectly but has a tendency to over-celebrate.

Specialisation:Technician

Abilities: Can summon creatures known as 'Legions' from another realm to act as traps or tools for infiltration or locking down areas. the creatures are as follows.

Flawed: Armed with long claws and summoned through use of a 'Soul' dart which, when stepped on summons Flawed from the ground beneath an adversary spinning with his claws outstretched above it.


Blastphemy: In the form of a bomb, can be summoned in one of two ways, infront of Argrim, readily armed and kicked towards an enemy, or in the ground nearby it's target area (Walls or doors) with a five second fuse.


Weapons: The same sword as shown in the image, just longer than four feet long and half a foot wide.
The last of the Dark Glyphs, Arngrim's way of summoning the 'legions'

Bio: 'Died' at the age of seventeen, he was visited by Death himself who, in exchange for his soul, allowed Arngrim to live again. Using his own soul energy to summon forth Death's personal warriors to wreak havoc on the planet, despite Death now owning Arngrim's soul, he has allowed the soul to remain with Arngrim, in order for the mortal to carry out Death's assigned task

Arngrim signed the contract, selling his soul and acquiring the Dark Glyph, the object used to summon forth these entities, he then grew stronger physically, relying on these legions less and less, he rid himself of five crests, the sword, the arrow, the shield, the power and the ultimate crest, shattering them and scattering the far and wide, he then turned against his 'Master's' wishes and vowed to protect the world from evil.

Death, never being unfair enough to deny a challenge, visited Arngrim again.
[COLOR="Cyan"]"I shall allow you to live until i have managed to restore my Crests, but, in order to walk upon this earth, you must kill, just like i must take souls, you must take the lives of other soul-bearers, you may do this any way you see fit, a steady stream of carnage should keep you alive long enough for me to return"[/COLOR]
He had said, temporarily relinquishing his hold on Arngrim's soul, yet forgetting his precious Artefact in his 'excitement'

Despite his sanity failing slightly he had adhered to the code of the Black Knight Mercenary Services, fighting not for gain, but to atone for his sins, remain alive, and above all to protect others from the fate he was destined.

Other: Sometimes forgets that he is no longer Death's 'Apprentice' And says weird things because of that fact. Only Allen knows of his past and therefore will react to anyone that seriously pisses him off in the manner of someone used to harvesting the souls of the living

Mira Zandeon:- Team One Subterfuge Specialist.
Created By:- Blazinvire.

Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide

Name: Mira Zandeon
Age: 20
Gender: Female
Appearance: 5'5'', 125lbs, very light mocha skin tone, pale blue eyes, soft features, pretty average all round though her lengthy auburn hair often sees many different styles.  Mira may be slightly above average in the physical department but it doesn't really show, which kind of makes her look frail compared to most mercenaries which is a bit of a subtle truth about her history.
By far the most important feature of her visage is the clothes she wears, as the woman seems to possess an infinitely-sized wardrobe with a seemingly infinite variety.
Her most commonly-worn garment is one of comfort: being a short sleeveless shirt, loose breeches tucked into flexible fitted boots, and long coat over the top of it all.
Personality: Unfortunately her personality is rarely consistent unless she trusts you; kind of like how someone might wear a mask to protect themselves, except she has hundreds of masks and cycles through them.  But underneath it all, Mira's actually a very simple, sweet and fun-loving person, rebellious against grimness and despair, and actually a little naïve and innocent to the point of slight fragility, but that's sort of a part of her simplistic nature.
Specialisation: Subterfuge
Abilities: Contrary to popular belief, Mira doesn't actually know magic, but she knows how to perform and can certainly use the mundane version of magic that's full of misdirection and tricks.  She's quite fast and namely fluid, which only serves to make her seem even faster than she is in how little she seems to hesitate.
She has quite the dextrous fingers that she can almost serve as a faux-Technician or even a shabby Medic in the right situation, but mostly she does the weaving and sewing of pretty much anything that comes her way.
Weapons: Cloak, Clothing and Daggers
It's often alarming to see how much clothing she can fit into her clothes, and just as alarming to see how dangerous a piece of fabric can get in Mira's hands.  She also possesses a neat array of exotic daggers of different shapes and sizes, appearing more ornamental than functional, but a dagger's function is hard to mess up.
Bio:
Anything beyond Mira's recent history is foggy at best, almost in an unsettling way all things considered.  How Mira always seems to have money to spend and more clothes to wear, how her last name doesn't seem to exist anywhere, how she came to the mercenary service already half-way trained.
It's assumed Mira comes from some noble family whose loyalties are still unknown, and she'd been given all sorts of training as she had grown up, though the training seems doubtful most of the time due to Mira's lack of substantial advantage in the physical department.
She's always had that aspect of frailty to her which could make one think that was the whole reason she specialized in subterfuge, as it was unlikely she could hold her own in a fair fight; yet if a noble daughter was so frail, why would she be amongst mercenaries in the first place?
Again more assumptions, that perhaps she was an only child or some other circumstance, but ultimately no one knows anything for sure.

Her more recent history however: things fell into place on their own for the most part, as Mira's motives and beliefs were heavily in line with those of the Black Knight Mercenaries, and she had enough prior skills to ensure her initiation was smooth enough.

Devon Devine:- Team One Melle Specialist.
Created By:- Dungeon Master.

[spoler]Name: Devon Devine

Age (Must be older than 18 to join BKS): 26

Gender: Male

Appearance:

Personality: Chaotic Good, Devon does good for the sake of doing good and expects no rewards for his actions. He has little care for the law and has no problem breaking it if he feels that someone is being taken advantage of. He always has the best of intentions in mind, though he often gets in trouble.

Specialization (E.G Technician, Medic): Front-Line Fighter

Abilities: All of Devons ‘abilities’ are nothing more than techniques he is capable of doing with his weapon. Nothing magical or supernatural about him.

Weapons: Double-Bladed Staff

Bio: Devon was born into the military life, though his father pulled some strings and managed to get Devon to become a squire at the age of eleven. Unfortunately Devon had no interest in holding a weapon let alone become a Squire. He performed his duties at a sub-par performance and at the age of fifteen he was simply told to leave and that the Knight no longer had any patience for him.

On his return home Devon ran into a wandering priest and bore witness to the amazing miracles the man could do. While dressing in funny robes and preaching didn’t appeal to Devon the priest told him of a Paladin order and that they were holy warriors that carried out the churches will. Devon thought that perhaps fate had guided him here and that with the training he did have under a Knight he would be a shoe in for any Paladin Order.

Seven churches and two years later Devon had yet to attain Paladin-hood, six of the orders turning him away because he was simply to chaotic and show a disregard for tradition and order with the seventh turning him away because he could no longer keep track of all the different churches unorthodox prayers and stories. He often intermingles and makes up his own stories when in regards to the deities.

One good thing did come from his many years of the different forms of training, he was proficient in the use of many different kinds of weapons, armors and shields. Though, in the end he found he prefer the staff for it’s simplicity. Though, this was not a weapon that could do much damage against armored foes, so, Devon was introduced to the double-bladed staff, a weapon to which he has dedicated himself too.

He returned home only to find his father has passed away while he was gone and everything that had been owned was repossessed by the crown. Devon felt like a failure and so he enlisted into the city watch where for the first time he found himself ahead of his peers in terms of skill and knowledge, his training and traveling had taught him more than he had realized.

Over the years Devon became an officer and was promoted to the rank of Captain and given charge over a company of men. Devon lead his men against rebels when they rose up against the Monarch, however, Devon found that he couldn’t agree with the orders he was carrying out and so at the age of twenty three he left city watch and decided he would leave the land far behind and ignore the troubles.

Things never went as planned and somehow Devon found himself enlisting in a mercenary group that was more interested in simply helping people than causing war. This was an organization that Devon knew he could support, he had no love for the politics involved in wars and this was something much more simple for a man such as Devon.

Other (Any quirks, or anything I may have missed): Despite his pension for failure Devon never ceases to try, and embodies everything that is good about the human spirit. He also has a fondness for fruit, particularly apples.[/spoiler]

Magda:- Team One Healer.
Created By:- Lillian Thorne

Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide

Name: Magda
Age: 20
Gender: Female

Appearance: Magda is tall and well muscled with long white-blond hair she keeps tightly braided and dark gray eyes that are almost black. She is of just slightly above average appearance but since she does so little to adorn herself most would call her plain and she is happy with that.
Personality: Magda is quiet and self contained with surprising bursts of humor that not only takes a morbid turn, but takes the listener by surprise. She is a good follower and happily to follow directions unless they extremely conflict with what she believes to be best for a patient. Most people take her to be cold and businesslike about her work but those truly in pain find her to be quietly and thoroughly compassionate.

Specialization: Medic

Abilities: Magda is gifted with a small amount of healing magic but it generally costs her greatly to use it so she has studied all that she can learn about the healing arts and uses that as her first line before dipping into her reserves of power.

Weapons: a heavy mace, shield and a long sword (her second choice to the mace) assorted medical knives

Team Number: 1

Bio: Magda grew up in a medium-sized town with a temple to the healing goddess as it’s main attraction. Magda was drawn to the temple from a young age and hung around pestering the priests and priestesses until they began to train her. She never had a calling to serve the goddess, just a curiosity about healing and the ways of the body as well as a minor magical healing talent. Being a quiet person never one to share much she never mentioned this to anyone. So when the time came and she was old enough to enter the priesthood she was asked to join. Her refusal both shocked and scandalized both her family and her priestly friends. She left town in the wake of the confusion and traveled and learned all that she could about healing. She returned to her home town years later only to find it destroyed by one of the two forces (she never did learn which) she never showed any reaction to it beyond seeking out the Black knights and signing on working her way into team one.

Other: a sporadically morbid sense of humor and a deadpan delivery

Garrett Brick:- Team One Heavy Mellee
Created By:-  Pockets

Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide

Name: Garrett Brick

Age (Must be older than 18 to join BKS): 23

Gender: Male

Appearance: Garrett has bandages confront his right arm from shoulder to fingers at all times. He's careful to never let anyone see his skin but accidents do happen....

Personality: Friendly and generally outgoing but always maintains a physical distance from others, never getting too close. Rather fond of nature and generally dislikes cities. He especially keeps his distance from those that use magic ir have enchanted items in their possession though no one is really sure why.

Specialisation (E.G Technician, Medic): melee combat

Abilities: hand to hand as well as sword combat, his size means he isn't too stealthy but he's good at tracking and better at fighting. No medical training to speak of. Incredibly physically strong.

Weapons: 1 standard long sword strapped to his right hip to be drawn left handed.

1 massive buster sword. 7' in length and nearly 2' wide at the base. He keeps his sword strapped to his back to be wielded with his right hand.

Bio: as a young child Garrett was severely injured. A powerful magus came across him and decided to save the childs life. Sacrificing his own life he poured his power into Garrett. The result allowed him to live, it also allows him to wield the gigantic sword he carries to a sufficient degree of skill. He made the sword himself when he was ten years old, the one he wields today is actually the fifth version of his weapon, each one larger and heavier than the one before.

As he grew he traveled, his family dead in the same accident that wounded him and he lent his sword for hire to pay for his food, clothes and equipment. He would not help anyone that he didn't feel was a good person though. Many tyrannical monarchs attempted to hire him but he refused instead going to the people and offering them his services against their king. This quickly made him a target and he was eventually forced to flee his home country.

When he heard of the Black Knight Mercenaries he sought them out. It took years but now, at the age of 23, he's finally found them and is hoping to work with them.

Other (Any quirks, or anything I may have missed): the process that saved his life means he constantly drains magic around him. It is always there but if he focuses he can draw magic even faster and make himself stronger at the risk of causing himself great pain and injury.

Disclaimer:- All members mentioned may/may not be members of Elliquiy, and are all members of Roleplayer Guild, all have given permission to use their Characters for NON-monetary purposes.

Also, Team Two will be posted once they have been introduced.

Character Sheet This is for those of you that think you may have a Mercenary, or even an enemy for the teams, that can be used. Please note, that all characters submitted by you, the members of Elliquiy is subject to a small review on my part.

CS:
Name:
Age (Must be older than 18 to join BKS):
Gender:
Appearance:
Personality:
Specialisation (E.G Technician, Medic):
Abilities:
Weapons:
Bio:
Other (Any quirks, or anything I may have missed):

please fill in this sheet and post in this here thread, I shall inform you whether or not the character has been added to the story, and if not, what needs to be changed to gain acceptance.

[DeamonAndae19]

Crud, misspelled 'spoiler' at the start of Devon's sheet... I'll have to get that changed once I'm accepted... dammit.

[DeamonAndae19]

Chapter 2: Getting to Work (Part 1:- Arngrim and Devon)

Arngrim's eyes rolled automatically as Allen called him 'Arny' sighing, he rolled his shoulders and slapped Devon's upper arm gently "Let's get to work, shall we?" he said simply and strode off, they'd already learned and mastered the layout of the fort and each member of Team One had memorized it, using this information, Arngrim was heading for the Food and power stores, Devon trailing behind.

Despite having memorized the layout, physical orientation played a massive part in any infiltration done by the team,  thus, Arngrim walked with his eyes closed, while Devon quite happily trailed behind, keeping a look out, any danger that appeared would be seen and dealt with by himself, leaving Arngrim to deal with everything cartographical. Smiling slightly as Arngrim hummed the chant of the Black Knights, deciding to join in after the first two bars.

Devon stopped suddenly as Arngrim's right arm shot out in front of him, barring the path past his ally, a flick of the Left wrist later, a thin beam of light flashed from The Glyph on Arngrim's hand and embedded in the ground. He silently began to count "One... Two... Three... Four... FIVE" he muttered, his voice taking on a sound similar to that of two tombstones smashing into each other.

As he uttered the final word, an enemy soldier rounded the corner in the Junction ahead, and stopped instantly, two sets of claws bursting from the earth beneath him, the claws, as sharp as they were, were even more deadly due to the speed at which they spun, the creature beneath them propelled upwards by the flames in place of it's feet.

The claws literally served as a Blender for the rebel soldiers innards, the creature continuing upwards until it burst from the top of the man's skull, emitting a shrill scream as it disappeared in a plume of unholy flame, the body beneath it slumped, a pool of the soldiers blood spreading, across the Junction, a small group of soldiers on each side stood frozen, horrified at what they'd just seen.

Arngrim smirked and looked at Devon "TIME FOR A SHORTCUT?" he asked simply, his voice still taking on the hollow tone it had before his Flawed construct had burst from the ground, Devon, although used to the sound of Arngrim's voice when he was using the Glyph, was still a little scared by it, a moment later, he nodded, and stepped back, watching as Arngrim summoned another Bomb-beast, just like the one that had destroyed the entrance to the Fort.

The bomb flew through the air, straight towards the wall on the far side of the Junction, allowing the soldiers on each side a quick flash of orange before flame and masonry pulverized them instantly, a large group of soldiers on the opposite side of the wall received the same treatment.

With a mirthless laugh, Arngrim waved Devon ahead of him "Go on then... I know your blood lusts taking a hold" he said coldly, looking to the Paladin behind him, who simply nodded and charged through the hole in the wall.

Looking around the ruined room, Devon noticed a large group of Rebel soldiers, he seemed grateful, Arngrim was allowing him some action, and he'd enjoy it.

"So then... Who's first..?"

[DeamonAndae19]

Chapter 2: Getting to work (Part 2:- Garrett Brick)

A small smirk formed on the gargantuan man's face as Team One dispersed, going about their business, he simply turned to face the only corridor not taken by another of his allies, he needed the room for Jomungand to work properly, taking up all the room on his own was bad enough, throw one of the others into the mix, and Garrett was a sitting duck.

His smirk turned to a smile as the explosion from Arngrim's second bomb-beast echoed through the fort, it had truly begun, and Arngrim would need Devon, that much was true, but that shouldn't concern Garrett, what did concern him, however, was the sudden appearance of a small squad of Rebel soldiers "Finally... Something to do" he muttered as he swung Jormungand from his back, placing the tip of the blade on the floor and beckoning the soldiers towards him.

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NON-PG-13 Scene (Skipped)

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Breathing heavily, Garrett moved his sword onto his back once again, his mouth hanging open and his brow covered in sweat "Too Easy" he muttered before stepping over the severed head of one of his prior opponents. Laughing mirthlessly he kicked a wall ahead of him, his stone leg smashing the masonry as if it were bone, opening a shortcut into what appeared to be a training yard, the walls towering above even him.

"I think I'll stay here, and see what comes my way" he said loudly, turning to the sound of moving armour, rolling his shoulders as the rebel heavy's came around the corner "You going to put up a better fight than the last lot? Because frankly, I'm bored" he said simply, his confidence radiating from his body, surprisingly, he'd managed to recover from the fatigue of his last battle, and stood with his arms folded "Come on then" he sighed as he swung his blade back round to his front, after all, Allen had told him to just kill stuff, so, that's what he was going to do.

[DeamonAndae19]

Attention readers:-

I will be postponing the next chapter until I have received some feedback, I've noticed that some of you are reading each chapter, since the number of views keeps increase, and I thank you greatly for taking the time to take a look.

However, I feel that, although people are reading, they may be holding something back, and in turn this prevents me from improving the way I adapt BKMS from RP to Story, as I feel that there is nothing wrong with my styling, this doesn't necessarily mean that I WANT negative comments, I would just like to hear all your views on my work.

Thank you.

- DeamonAndae19