Welcome to Gaia! ::

((Fair enough; I'll ask my questions right here then! First and foremost, ths profile, or rather Job Application, should we be writing it from the character's point of view (for example, the part where it says "Brief Description of why you wish to join us") or should we start stating, as a player, why we want to join the RP and why we think our character could contribute?

Secondly, I see the mention of a portal. Does that mean one's character can be from another world? To elaborate, if I had a really great character for another RP that flopped, could I tweak them to fit in here? If not, that is perfectly fine. I simply like to know what my options are before I make any decisions.

Thirdly, even if I get approved, is it acceptable if I take my time to bring in my character so long as I stay a consistent poster after my introduction?

Thank you for your time.))

"I'll live Stalker, for the most part at least..." he said as his partner hoisted him onto her mobile coffin throne. His words weren't very convincing since he was alot paler than normal, and his breathing was labored. The mistake he made was underestimating the amount of mana it would take to restore 12 zombies. Thankfully they had the conversation about it earlier, and he was absolutley certain to grab a few mana potions when he retrieved his effects from the security checkpoint at Mishaps HQ.

Retrieving a small vial from his back pouch, Stalker could easily see the glowing blue liquid as he removed the stopper. Little time was spent as he downed the entire potion. His breathing slowed, and his skin slowly returned to a more flush pale fleshy hue.

"Now I'm glad you didn't ask me to completely resurrect them, otherwise I'd barely have any mana left over for my own body to function..."

((Oh I have one more question... bit of a dumber. Do we have to join the guild to participate in the RP?))

Damian ran a hand through his hair as his body felt like it had returned to its normal strength. It was hard to believe he was still breathing after such a feat, but after living for so many centuries the body learns to endure such strain. One thing was certain, his partner would have to provide a steady supply of mana potions is she intended to revive this many zombies at a time.

"I don't think pass out would be the correct term, but yes we will have to be careful about it." he mentioned, keeping a mental note as to how long they've been riding on this weird coffin mobile. It took notably longer to arrive at their destination, but he was glad to have had the time to relax and recover more of his mana without further use of potions. Their route into the facility seemed simple enough, though he had his doubts that capturing the children would be as simple.

Damian then leapt from the coffin and stood beside his Captain. "Ready when you are."

"Right...Dig." Snapping her fingers once, the lined up army of reanimated flesh and gore would bend down to beign raking thier hands through the dirt. It was like some comical cartoon where the dog would just begin creating some torrential over flow of dirt as it dug. Grass and stone, and various types of soil flew as the things continued thier dig.

Stalker's grin remained plastered across her face, but there was an obvious sheen of sweat breaking out on her forehead as a vein in her neck strained from the physical exhertion it took to keep the things moving. Amazingly, it was easier for her to have them fight, than perform menial tasks such as this. When it came to battle, she could force the things into a primal instinct that still ran through thier bodies. Here, it took actual thought, something dead things didn't really have anymore since most of thier brains had rotted beyond capable use.

After a good five minuted of digging, some disgusting gargled sound rang out as one of her beings smacked into the hidden tunnel below with a shuddering bone crack. The other undead troops, ceased thier work to slowly drop in one at a time.

Relaxing a bit, Stalker striaghtened up a bit to wipe her face with her sleeve. "Nothing's down there so we can infiltrate now...we lost one of em when it fell in though. Stupid thing snapped its own head and left arm off."

Meanwhile back at Headquarters...

...a figure moved with a purposeful gait, a garment too long for a shawl and too short for a cape billowing dramatically behind her. Of course, billowing is what loose fabric does, and is essential to any grand entrance. However, this figure was not aiming for a grand entrance, but rather stopped shy of Commander Rindell's office at the far end of the main corrdidor. The figure, swathed in several laywers of flowing fabric and loose apparel, raised a hand, pausing just before offering up a short rap-rap-tap upon the door, a jingling sound accompanying due to the bangle on her wrist being jostled by the movement. She then stood still, the trinket adorned caribou woman standing erect and patient, and possibly almost mistaken for a hat and coat rack from a half-asleep passerby that hastily lobbed a hat upon one of the prongs of her velvety antlers.

Upon seeing the door open, Frauke opened her mouth, only to quickly shut it as the Commander began to speak. She stood silently to attention, until the glint of a flash caught her eye and she tensed... only to have the door shut. For the awkward moment as an array of horrid sounds reached her flattened ears from the other side the door, all Frauke could do was shift her weight... and reach up and remove the hat someone had tossed on her rack - er - antlers. She fiddled with the hat for a moment until the door opened again.

"Do you need any assi-"

Again cut short, she quickly went silent, her attention on the cinged woman. As she listened to her hurriedly given orders, she tossed the hat aside and gave a quick nod to show she understood... although not without a bit of a stupor creeping upon her.

SLAM. A small breeze tussled the loose hairs that had fallen out of her bun from the displacement of air the door caused. The woman heaved a large sigh and glanced to her left, then to her right, only to sigh again.

"Thank you... I feel at home already, yes..." she mutters. Portal room... portal room... aha!

Frauke pivoted on her heel turning to her right and heading down the hallway to the portal room. Once glanced to the aforementioned far right corner until she found the one that was spoken of. Frauke paused for a moment, quickly rechecking all of her equipment; an array of magical items. Rings, amulets, bangles... (( List of equipped trinkets can be found here! )) all in order . Oh yes, and of course a crossbow and a dozen bolts. Must remember to get more... running low... Taking in a deep breath, Frauke gingerly reached out and...

...blinked. Although she'd been through one or two portals before, it still took getting used to. Frauke took a moment to re-orient herself in the new location.

"Follow the trail of death smell. Merry things."

Without much more ado, Frauke followed certain unsavory breadcrumbs left behind by the possibly psychotic necromancer and her travel companion, her crossbow perched readily just in case. Frauke was not much obliged when she realized that the trail led her into a cemetery... a disturbed cemetery. The apparent evidence of disturbed graves and many footsteps leading outward only caused Frauke to shudder. Gathering up her determination, she set out hastily on the two-mile trail to the asylum to finally meet those who would be her peers.