Welcome to Gaia! ::

An arena, opened to hold only the best of fighters, was succesful. It attracted not only warriors, but archmages, rogues, and all kinds of deathdealers. In some cases, the winners came to draws. In others, there was clear dominance. The circumstances surrounding this arena was extremely suspicious. No one was told anything other than who to fight and where. The fighters who came didn't even know for who they were fighting, only that the prize, a power not yet seen in the land, had called to the souls of the powerful. Now, after all the competition is over, the victors are assembled in a small room, only large enough to comfortably hold twelve people. Sitting in large, nightmarish, angelic, and commanplace chairs, sat three men who matched the chairs they were sitting on. Finally, those who had struggled so hard would know for what they had fought.

Yevron, the dark elf samurai, stood to one side of the room, his body stance relaxed and his katana and wakasazhi sheathed comfortably at his waist. The black traveling cloak he wore to disguise his black skin was open with the hood down to expose the skin that marked his heritage. His semi long white hair covered half of his face, and the half that was exposed showed his tatoo, a depiction of flames that covered half his face.

The man who sat in the middle, the one who appeared to be commonplace, glanced around the room, examing all the people carefully. "It is time." He declared loudly. His voice broke into everyone's minds, and it seemed to echo, breaking everybody's concentrations. "It is time," He repeated. "For you to know why you have fought, why you have struggled, and most importantly, why you have won." The man stared each person in the eyes. "You have been assembled here, to be sent on a quest. No ordinary quest will it be, for none of you have any knowledge of the place to which you are being sent, I can assure you." The man in the nighmarish chair was grinning intensly, while the angelic one was frowning with the same measure of passion. "You will be sent to another plane of existance, that none but us three know of. Will you brave this plane?"

((If you want to build a futuristic character, not lasers and stuff, but slightly more advanced than current day, you can have two characters in this RP. We're being sent into the future.))

James nodded. He had made his way slowly to the middle of the wall instead of the corner, still using the shadows. He had stowed his book in his cloak.

"Please." Medraz mutters under his breath, rolling his eyes. Speaking up to the leaders, he interrupts Tevrak's hostile remark with a question. "What is in this 'other plane of existence'?"

James hissed softly. Magic was his only skill, for with it, he had never needed to learn how to fight with a physically held weapon. He didn't like the sound of this second "plane" already. He'd follow the advice of the angelic man and use it nonetheless.

Trevakri kept the face in a smile, and even let out a laugh. "You are clever ones, you are. Magical contracts, unknown rules. A realm where technology and science dominate the belief in magic." She kept her violent violet eyes locked onto the man in the middle, still trying to sense around herself to learn more about the others. "Belief is such a powerful thing. It lets me have this body. And if it should die in that realm, it will be much harder to find a substitute."

The Inspired made the body smile. Trevakri was going to have fun. Maybe she could even open up this world to inhabitation. She turned the head, glancing at all the boxes. She touched them. "Odd material," she muttered poking them. "Almost like paper." Her left hand pulled away from her body, and her thoughts began to center around that. She focused the thoughts, filling them with an edge, a need to exist, and with malice. A small dagger-like blade faded into her hand, and she slashed at the boxes around her with it, wanting to see what is inside.