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"..I'm getting sick of this!" Stoe suddenly burst out, jumping up from his chair. They were in some sort of hidden base of operations. It was almost like a mineshaft, only it didn't go that far in. There was a table with papers, and a map, scattered all over it, and several desks around the room, with random oddities.

Stoe was wearing a gray armor. It exposed his head, where it was shown he was a human man, with short black hair, and blue eyes. The armor itself was a dull gray, which is odd for a metal. Upon its chest lay the Divine Star (for the image go to the general info). though the main circle replaced by a crescent, reminiscent of a moon. This was the Divine of Storms.

"Sick of what?" Kara (kar-uh [not kare-uh]). "Waiting? I know what you mean.." She was wearing an excess of black clothes, purposely designed to look ripped, and weathered. The hood she wore went down into a cape, and also had two small streams of cloth that went across her chest. The shirt was like a small dress, going down to just below her thighs, with sleeves that extended well past the hand. There was a belt, tied around the waist, that hung to about the knees, where it tied. The pants were simple cloth pants, that just barely touched the ground. Only the bottom half of her face was exposed, she was human, as well. She was the Divine of Stealth.

"Not waiting! Letting that damn fool run around doing whatever he wants!"

"Erath? He's king, what are we supposed to do?"

"..I've got a plan. We can execute it tonight."

"..You know Dait's going to be here, soon.."

"I'm sick of waiting for him.. How long have we waited now? I'm going out there, with, or without you."

"..I'll follow you, until both of our graves.."

"Then get ready, we're setting out tonight."

Erath was walking through the petrified fields of Dane. There was no life.. Anywhere. All plant life was turned to stone, and all animal life died out years ago. Stoe, and Kara stood on a cliff, a plateau of some sort, not to far off from him. There was a thunderstorm.

"Kara, there, let's go." Stoe said. Kara nodded. The two ran towards him, once they were behind him, he stopped, and turned around.

"Stoe. Should've guessed this storm was because of you."

"It's over, Erath! I'm done playing, tonight you will die!" Stoe pulled the bishamon he was carrying off his back. He charged for Erath, using the side blades like an axe. Erath hardly made a movement, stabbing his sword through the gap between the blades.

"If it's over, then why am I still standing, rebel?" He spun his blade around, jerking the spear from its owner's hands, and then spinning it around to smack Stoe in the face. He started spinning it, again, though this time it was caught. Stoe jerked his weapon back, freeing it from the blade.

"Fool's tricks like that aren't going to work!"

"What about a trick like this?" He asked, monotone, pulling out another sword. It had a slithering blade, and a heart adorned its pommel.

"Lucien.." Kara said, quietly. The sword shot up, in a golden light, into the sky. It morphed into a massive serpent, were he to be only in that one area, the sky would be unable to be seen, due to his clouding it.

"Lucien, kill them both."

Lucien chuckled. "It's time to feed!" He said, diving down towards Stoe.

"Oh damn it.." He said. Suddenly Kara tackled him out of the way, and the two turned invisible. They appeared only a small ways off. Lucien simply adjusted his course, continuing to go towards them.

"Enough!" Kara jumped into the air, and pulled out a kunai (though with silver metal, and a black handle). She threw it towards her opponent, and it went through the air, as a purple stream. A new one appeared in her hands. It hardly caused more than a pinprick to the Dragon Sword, however. It knocked her to the side with the tip of one of its claws (hardly even a fingernail, in relative size). She landed a ways away, on her side. Lucien, once again, turned to meet his new target's location.

"No!" Stoe said, running over to her. He shoved her out of the way, as she was getting up, and then soon found himself lodged onto one of Lucien's teeth. He was tossed over to Erath, who then ordered Lucien to revert form. Now, with Lucien as a blade, in hand, he lodged the sword into Stoe.

"There, hope you enjoy your dinner." He said, as blood coursed up the blade, and into the heart.

"No.." Kara said. "No!" She suddenly jumped up, and ran over to Stoe's body. Erath didn't make an attempt to stop her.

"Kara.. Get out of here!" Stoe forced himself to say (as 'twas difficult to speak). "Don't let my sacrifice be in vain!" He gasped in pain. "This was all my stupid idea, you shouldn't have to suffer the consequences!" His head went limp. The bishamon began to phase through the ground, releasing a white light, like a sort of portal, where it touched the ground.

"No!" Kara said, grabbing it. "I'm not letting it go!" She pulled it out of the ground, and held it, in both her hands, sobbing.

"What do you plan to do with that, girl?" Erath said, removing Lucien. "Keep it? It's not a collectible. Hand it over."

"No!"

"Insignificant rat, then get out of my sight!" He swung his sword at her, though she blocked with Stoe's weapon, then jumped back.

"You.. Damn you!"

Erath slowly walked up to her. "You can damn me all you want, in comparison to me, you are no god." He this time swung Lucien at her, though this time she was also gone: Running away, with tears streaming down her face.

(Once the RP starts, you will likely be just living your normal life, until stuff happens)
(Characters added to Special Characters: Erath, Stoe, Lucien)
Kara sat against the dirt wall, with Stoe's spear in her hand, her arms resting on her knees, and her head hanging down. When the wooden door slowly creaked open, she hardly glanced up to see who it was. A cloaked figure with some men behind him. A crimson scythe was mounted on his back, so the blade was facing bottom left. There were various men, and women behind him.

"..Kara?" He asked, in a concerned voice. "Are you alright?"

Kara only stared with a sorrow in her eyes. It was then the figure noticed the spear.

"Stoe.. Is he..?"

"..You came too late-" She said, choking, and almost crying at the last word.

A cold wind blew in with the opening of the door.
The one who'd opened it, a lean Ruon of average height, stepped inside.
Setting his sea-bag down, he touched a picture on a side-table.
"I'm home, Da."

Hanging up a few of the more restrictive bits of clothing, he re-dressed himself.
Looking to the picture once more, he smiled a little.
"It's my first time on land in months, so I'm gonna go get drunk, alright Da?
I'll be back."

Shrugging his old waterproof sea coat back on, Manannan Mac-Lir made his way to one of his old haunts.

Rob'ert's Cellar was not for the faint of heart.
Low prices and ungodly hours kept the patrons coming, and the occasional fight or gunshot sent them right back out.
Even a seasoned drunk might think twice about going in after clapping eyes on the door-sign:
Go home, take a dump, sleep it off.

If it wasn't obvious by now, it was Manannan's favorite booze-holes.
(Relatively) Good drink, old friends, and p'raps even a pretty girl to share 'em with. What more could he ask for after months at sea?

Manannan plunged right into the act of drinking to the hilt.
As he did not drink at sea, he'd built up a thirst.
"Hoy, Rob! Pass another jug of Othlass my way!"

The owner, a large, sturdy Ruon, slid the container down the bar.
"Make this one last, ya salty thing.
You'll poison yerself if you drink too much."
"Hah! This stuff's mother's own milk!"
"Somehow, I don't doubt that."

The fisherman was enjoying himself immensly.
Othlass was a drink made mostly of alcohol, diluted with several vegetable juices.
Given many of the plants used, it was also mildly hallucinogenic.
The added advantage was that it would pretty much kill anything someone slipped in it if he wasn't looking.

There was a brawl starting in the corner, spreading fairly quickly.
He finished his glass, setting the jug back on the counter.
That down, Lir started moving towards it, rolling up his sleeves to expose his callused knuckles.
Could be fun...

Sirb noticed the silhouette and looked up to meet a big ship.
Oh sweet mother of...!
A ship?!?
'I swear to all deities, I did not do that!' he shouted in surprise, stumbling up and morphing quickly, growing a tail, switching to a quadrupedal stance and becoming more reptilian in appearance, except he was made of pure darkness. Not even light could pierce his skin, and it seemed impossible to acknowledge how he had such a body, but he did.
He leapt up and took flight, making his way very swiftly around falling debris and the like 'til he was parallel with the top of the ship. Despite being slightly smaller, he grabbed onto the edge with his claws and grunted as he tried to stop its descent, or at least slow it down. Wonder how much a ship like this would sell for...?

The fight was in full swing, and everybody was in on it.
Rob'ert himself just hit somebody over the head with a chair.
Manannan was wading through drunk combatants, seeing some opponents that weren't really there.

He ducked and wove through the sea of blows, occasionally catching one himself.
He shrugged these off with a stagger and kept going.
Those his fists connected solidly with, however, tended to stay down.

When Kara eventually got inside, it had quieted to a simple ring of people, only two in the center left fighting.
Manannan Mac Lir was one of those center-folk, putting his skill as a bare-knuckle fighter to use as best he could with a bloody grin on his bruised face.
With as much as he'd had to drink, the fisherman wasn't all that.
But his opponent (though a giant by their standards) was staying up through a lucky combination of mass and inertia, so it evened out.

Drunk on bare-knuckle fever, nobody in the crowd would see Kara even if she stomped in.

When Kara did get in, she stopped right in the doorway. The weapon was trying to move towards the fight, but she forced herself to stand still.
'Stoe's incarnation is a drunk brawler? ..This can't be right..' She thought to herself, as she watched the fight continue.
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Inside the quality of the ship was far worse than outside. The lights were out, so it was near pitch black. The walls, floors, and ceilings had several holes in them, with wires beneath. There were plenty of bloodstains, and occasionally there was a body, clothed in a golden armor, though usually torn in half. Whatever had attacked the ship had attacked it from the inside.

"Hello!? Hello, who's there!? Is anyone else still alive!?" The voice echoed, weakly.

Sirb shouted in reply, 'Doubtful. I'm not a survivor, I flew up in here. What happened?'
He started to climb over the mess made by the apparent attack, and his eyes widened to help pick up much more light so he could just see where he was going. A stubbed claw wouldn't be worth his attention right then anyway.

Sirb stopped for a moment, remembering a story about how a little girl got lost in the woods. She heard a soft crying noise, so she tried to find the source. When she did, she died. The source was a baby wolf, egged on by its parents.
A sick move, but certainly a smart one.
Was this similar? Was he falling into a trap?
Readying his claws and focusing on piercing the veil of shadows, he tentatively asked, 'Can't you move? If it's still in here, it might be unsafe for you. You should move.'
He remembered he still had a few firecrackers he could use, so he prepped one to set off when he needed it to.