Saviours, the game!

[kpjam]

Arkanel had made his request to many people, but only a few chose to accept, and fewer came to the appointed place at the appointed time.  They each stood in the place agreed upon, and patiently waited.  Their vision clouded for a moment, as the world they had grown up in vanished.

As everything went white, their vision cleared and they found themselves standing on a raised stone partition.  The sage Arkanel was standing in front of them, surrounded by a white nimbus while holding an ornate wooded staff aloft, his white robes fluttering in the wind.

It was there first look at Arkanel, and he was a broad shouldered man, with a short wispy beard.  He seemed fit, with unruly silver hair that hung down below his shoulders.

Closer inspection found the nine transplants to the world standing upon nine individual circles drawn in chalk, various symbols and markings constructed inside.  The circles of each were different, including the seven empty circles.

Grass flowed in every direction, an unspoiled land by all appearances.  In one direction, mountains could be seen rising up, as if out of the grass itself.

A slender young woman moved to give support to the sage as the nimbus surrounding him faded.   She was light of skin, with silver hair to match Arkanal's.  She was short, only coming up to his chest, and looking only at him.  His face, which had been intense, lightened as he looked out upon those who had come and spoke.

"Welcome!  Welcome, all, and thanks."

edit:  I forgot describe yourselves.

[Dracos]

O'karn looked around, appraising both the new 'companions' he found himself amongst and the the two before him.  They both looked rather weak, why he could snap both of them over his knee with ease.  But the old man, yes, that was the man that offered wealth beyond his wildest dreams.  A world for his tribe to conquer and rule.  Grunting in response to the mage, O'karn kept his guard up, not trusting his companions in the least at the moment.

If one was to look at O'karn, they would most likely have to creak their neck back quite a bit, for O'karn towered tall and mighty at nearly ten feet tall dressed in spiked black platemail with bone artistry running up and down it.  On his back a powerful looking sword was sheathed, small skulls hanging from leather at the bottom of the hilt.  His face was hidden behind a mask of bone, save for two penetrating black eyes and a fearsome coil of black hair which ran down his back in an indian style.  All in all he looked both powerful an menacing, like some fell demonic warrior from beyond.

Fearless Leader

[Carthrat]

Daggedal shrugs, resting a hand on his sword.

"Yar, well, now that we're here, no turning back. This 'ad better be 'erth it," the man says, running a hand through his hair.

He's a fairly broad-shouldered man, wearing a spiked shield with a skull emblazoned on it. His sword appears to be nothing more than a typical sword, and he's wearing an odd mismatch of clothing, seeming to consist of a leather shirt and pants with far too many patches to have been made by a real tailor.

He carries a soldiers pack, presumably stuffed full of rations, blankets, and other travelling essentials. An unstrung bow also sits on his back. He's slightly pale, and the area around him seems to darken slightly. A cocky grin is on his face, and he has a goatee and moustache. His black hair is unkempt and long, and he appears to be at the height of readiness.

[Figment]

After a brief glance at his surroundings, Devon turned his attention on his companions.  Examining them in turn.

Looking at Devon, one would see a tall (though not as tall as O'karn), lithe, individual who moved with a sort of inhuman grace. Clad in dark green camouflage fatigues, with a dark gray cloak and tan shoufa drawn up around the mouth, the only visible skin was a small pale swath around a pair of dark sunglasses.   Anyone doing a scan for visible weapons might recognize the hilt of a sword poking up over his right shoulder along with the tip of an unstrung bow.  In a holster on his right thigh there was a pistol of some sort (for those who recognize it as such) and a dagger on his left.

[thepanda]

Arael glanced around her surroundings gleefully. Magic was such a wonderful thing! Noticing the unspoiled lands around her she stood awestruck, marveling that such a place could exist outside the care of Zeal.

Arael appears to be young woman with long, golden hair tied into a braid that stops at the small of her back. She wears white knee high boots with steel guards across the front, white leather pants with a chain where a belt would normally be worn, a golden short sleeve blouse with a white leather vest over it, the left shoulder pad bearing a staff sprouting wings, her right arm covered by a white leather glove with the same wings and staff emblem secured to her arm, and the left arm bare except for an odd looking glyph on the back of her hand.

She's wearing a white backpack. A white mace, the head spiked and bearing the same wings and staff emblem, rests at her right side. Those with sharp eyes might notice two large daggers under the vest.

[Trunkyboy]

Rackham's eyes dart around, taking in everything.  He stands apart from his "companians," his stance is one of readiness.  He looks at the two mages with distrust and contempt, and his hands are ever constantly carressing his weapon, a huge scythe.  Every once in a while, his green eyes seem to glitter.  "There had better be the violence you promised mage," he says.  "And loot too," he adds as an aside.

If one looks at Rackham, they will see a tall man, standing at 6 feet.  He wears a simple black tunic and pants with sturdy calve high black harden leather boots.  These sport black iron toes.  His armor consists of a leather breastplate dyed black with inveterwoven iron plates, studded leather gauntlets and greaves.  To complete the assemble, he wears a grimreaper like cloak out of supple leather.  Around his neck there is a simple silver chain with a silver dagger.  His main weapon is obvious, a huge battle scythe with a black chain wrapped around the handle and an attached blade at the bottom.

[Figment]

Done with a cursory examination of those brought to this place along with him, Devon turned his attention to Arkanel and his assistant.

"Greetings," he spoke in a low melodious voice, punctuating the statement with a brief nod of the head.

[Carthrat]

Daggedal chuckles at Rackhams words, but dosn't say anything..

[Priss]

Nirae looked around, casually observing the place, though noting with a bit of disappointment that there didn't seem to be any seas to fare about.  What's the use of a being a famous pirate captain... with no seas to pirate! After all, it was her apparent life goal.

Nirae was a study in black and crimson, though not a tall study, standing only five foot seven inches tall, positively short compared to a few of her companions. Loose fitting, black trousers, tied at waist and ankle, though the ankle ties didn't show from under the mid-thigh length, thick leather boots, slashed and folded down to knee height, dyed dark crimson, covered her legs, strong from years spent on the rolling deck of a ship. A black shirt, tight in the bodice and at wrists, loose and slightly slashed in full sleeves, leather jerkin, wrist braces, and shoulder guards, dyed a dark crimson served to cover her torso. And a knee-length black cloak with a crimson interior flapped loosely about from under her pack. Her saber hilt partnered her mace on the other side of her belt, and an astute individual might notice the tip of her throwing 'hawk peeking out from behind her back.

She glanced around at her new-found companions, a positively michevious grin lighting up her features as she spotted Rackham.

"Hey! Rackham, you ole' sea dog! You were chosen too?" She adressed the barbarian with a rackish grin on her features. "Hopefully I won't spend so much time patching you up this time around!"

[Corwin]

Miaka smiled and waved at everyone with her right hand, holding her backpack in the other, the frilly sleeve of the translucent white gown she wore as part of her ceremonial outfit fluttering due to the motion. On top of the gown, she wore red robes, with a golden sash tied at her waist. The robes had a deep V-neck, a necklace of beads hanging around Miaka's neck decorating it. Red slippers at her feet, a trio of golden bands worn on her right ankle, platinum bracelets on both of her wrists and a golden circlet with an intricate design of a phoenix rising from its ashes adorning her head completed Miaka's attire.

The red-headed girl's normally long hair was collected into two buns, held together with ribbons of matching color. All of it, that is, save for two small sets of bangs woven into shoulder-length braids on each side of her face, blue shells serving as clamps for them.

[Jeram]

Drall stood silently, his gaze passing over each of his "companions" in turn.  'It would seem that I have found myself in quite a diverse assemblage,' he thought.  'Some of these are outside my experience - that tall beast of a man seems quite fascinating to say the least.  It would seem prudent to steer clear of him.'

The half-drow looked cautiously at Arkanel and his companion.  'This mage is a curious one.  But I am willing - for now - to accept his generous offer of emploment.'

He then glanced at the Nirae and Rackham and nodded approvingly - their attire seemed well suited for the task at hand.  'Of course, I doubt any of them are as well equipped as I.'

The half-drow looked in mistrust at Devon and Arael.  'This is a strange one, I think.  He seems too akin to a ranger for my tastes.  And as for the mage, one can never trust those who claim to be good - in my experience, there is always something to hide.'

Drall smiled slightly, confident enough in his own abilities that he could easily escape if pressed by attackers.  He brushed his short cropped white hair, but did not touch his bangs, which had been grown long to conceal his face.

He drew his long black cloak around him, allowing only glimpses of what he wore - dressed entirely in black, with long black leather gloves and boots, and a light chain mail over his tunic.  A quick eye would have observed in that moment while his cloak was still open that Drall had a belt of daggers across his chest.  Drall adjusted the crossbow strapped to his back, ensuring that his quarrels were within easy reach.

If one were to look exceedingly carefully - they might notice the hint of outlines of numerous other blades on his person - but they would have to look very carefully indeed.

He checked the sword at his side, and glanced around once more.  'Quite a powerful group here - this may be more entertaining than I would have thought.'

[Trunkyboy]

"Nirae," he responded with quiet pleasure.  He went to stand by her side, his eyes ever flickering to those gathered, his hands ever grasping the handle of his scythe.
"I can now be sure of at least one person who enjoys my tastes," he added happily.

[thepanda]

Snapping out of her revelry Arael finally turned her attention to her companions and hosts, for lack of better words. The general feel she got of those other who where summoned was not entirely pleasant. Far too many of them had a fondness for black and skeletal designs seemed to be the in thing.

Standing at nearly six feet in height she was no shrub, but the towering mailed figure dwarfed any she had ever seen before. Apparently, at least two people knew each other already, though from some of the looks being passed around she doubted that being more than a fluke.

The child dressed in the loud Chinese garb stuck out even more so than the giant, if only for the company she was in. If she was a gifted, as Arael was led to believe since she carried no visible weapons, Arael would have to have a talk with her. She smiled cheerfully at the girl, and gave her a little wave.

But now it was time to handle business.  She approached the silver-haired pair.

"Hi! Arkanel I believe it was? You've summoned me, and I guess them as well, here for a purpose. As one of Zeal's own Shepherds I, Arael Saber, have chosen to hear you out more fully. But I- we rather, need more information about what it is you want and what help you can give us."

[kpjam]

Arkanel smiled gently in response to the young girl.

"There is much to go over, although I'm not sure here is the place to go into great detail.  It has come to my attention that Zaphiel, my one time brother has formed a small force in the ancient citadel Camelot.  

"I fear that to adequately tell the tale, I must give you a little history of this land.  A thousand years ago, this was a well populated world, where many wonders, like the one I just achieved were common place.  The greatest scientists and mages of the day combined their might in many experiments, which unfortunately led to war.  

"I could find little if no details of the how the war ended, or what exactly happened immediately after it.  Camelot was believed to be the heart of it, and Zaphiel, bewitched by the tale, went to the forbidden place ten years ago.   He somehow transformed it, and in secret, called upon the populace to form an army.  For what purpose I did not know.   When I found out of his recruiting, I visited him for the first and last time.

"I prevailed upon him to stop, to return to Glendale and take up his position at my side as one of the spiritual leaders of the populace.  He laughed, and ranted about the secrets he was uncovering until he stopped and chastised me!

Begone!  I shall let you leave because of the love I once felt for you.  But, the next time you cast your eyes upon me, will be the last time your eyes behold anything.

"I fear that I have neither the power nor the people to command to stop him.  I sent word to the capital for instruction and help, but I fear the distance to reach it will be too late in coming.  The fasted I might receive word back is still more than a week away.   I have sent a few trusted people to try and infiltrate Camelot, but only one returned.  He died shortly after, incoherent, and babbling about some pillar of fire somewhere beneath the main keep.

"I had hope that you would help me, and stop this madness, before my town, and maybe my world is thrown back into the chaos it was before.

"I realize you all have different goals, and I promised you very little.  But after talking with you, those that came, and those that didn't, I realized I did have something to offer."

He turned towards the small girl at his side.  "Lafiel has a down-payment of sorts."

The small girl, who had stood quietly at his side, bent down into a bag that she carried.   She proceeded to produce small canvas pouches, and tossed one to each of the persons gathered.

[Trunkyboy]

Rackham snagged his pouch from midflight, commenting to Nirae all the while.  "An army eh?  Looks like there will be fighting at least."

Holding his scythe in the crook of his arm, he then proceeded to open the pouch and look inside.