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[Open RP] This is war.

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The man looked to Manfred as he introduced himself. He may have been Vigil, but it was hard to tell. What was easy to tell was that he was alone. The man lifted his chin subtly, as if to offer a hint of respect to the man as he released his rank. He offered a gloved right hand, small plate pieces outlining his leatherbound knuckles. "Rynu," he offered simply. Whether he knew his way around a sword or not would soon be proven.
Posted Oct 28, 15
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The large charr, dressed in aged leathers cautiously enters the camp, a large Ascalonian greatsword resting over his shoulder, and matching bow in a sheath on his back. His one bright yellow eye scans the camp of survivors, as he growls, a large lynx leaping out of the underbrush next to him. His muscles obviously bunched in case of combat, he enters the camp and plants the large sword down with its tip deep into the earth to hold it steady as he yanks a thorn from deep in thigh.

"I would assume," the Charr growls, "that this is a friendly camp. Who is the commanding officer here? More importantly, who can refill my flask?"

Pulling out a dented flask of iron he shakes it, then notices a large thorn sticking out of the side.

"Nevermind that last request. This jungle just made me even more angry." he growls, tossing the iron flask off into the under growth."
Centurion Arum Bloodclaw
Lore Cannith of the Seraph [WIP]

gricks.1897
Posted Oct 28, 15 · Last edited Oct 28, 15
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As the small group discussed the situation, the chattering of voices could be heard coming closer to the camp. This was followed by the sudden aroma of jasmine and mint with just a hint of sage. As the fronds of some of the plants were pushed back, two humans stepped into view. One, a dark skinned woman of definite Elonian ancestry, the other a tanned older woman smoking a cigarello. On her tunic was pinned a silver star.

"...joints botherin' you?" the dark skinned woman asked the other.

"Goddsdamned humidity," the second replied as she rolled her shoulders while her cigarello hung between her lips. "At least out in the desert it's dry 'nough. Out here, the damp and whatnot jist creeps inta ya." They both stopped and looked around the camp. "Well, more people 'n what I thought'd be here." She nodded in kind to all those assembled. "Name's Shani Wennemein. Sheriff o' Prospect Valley. Though, as some've tol' me, my jurisdiction jist got a lot bigger. This here's Abisayo Temililu, currently actin' as a deputy."

"Maybe you'll actually get some deputies now," Abisayo said with a chuckle as she shrugged off her pack and set down her flamethrower. "Then maybe I can head back to Diessa." The tools on her belt denoted she was an engineer of some experience.

"Agent Wennemein. Agent Temililu," Avalona called out and pointed to her boots. "Agent Eoxxa preceded you." After motioning toward the Asura still huddling at her boots, Avalona motioned to the Captain. "Zhe missing Vhispers Agents."
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Shook Rynu's hand, with his own mail-gauntleted one. "Nice to have you here." he said genuinely, and his attention turned to a Charr who had entered the opposite perimeter.

A Volunteer picket looked up at the Charr. "Well, we didn't shoot you for being a Charr. Which is more than you can expect from the Dragon's Minions." the Norn said, before gesturing with his axe towards the shelters that were put up over the eating areas, over benches and chairs, and an open-aired cooking area that was billowing off steam from the smoke putting out the fire. The Picket wore typical, northern gear, favoring leather and chain, though his arms were now bare and over the chain on his chest, he wore a Seraph-Issued scale-mail coat. They weren't in the habit of letting the gear of the fallen go to waste, here. It was too far between supply runs, equipment had to be recovered and maintained, if possible. "Over there is where you can eat. There's a Whisper Agent here by the name of Whelan. Makes his own brew. He can help you with that. And with findin' anything else you need. Commander...it all depends. Who you are and who you should be reporting to. Vigil, find one of the Warmasters. Highest rankin' Seraph on post is Captain Wulfe. Whisper agents tend to come here on their own orders, the only one here that's -supposed- to be here is Whelan. So if ya need to, ask him."

Manfred let out a sigh of relief as the Warmaster introduced her friends. "Sheriff Wennemein. Agent Temilulu." he said, his southern Krytan twist on his words giving him a -little- difficulty with the I's and the U's of the latters name. "I'd ask if you were followed, but...either you made grabbing you costlier than they'd have liked, or attacking you here is costlier than they'd like. First one is good for us, and speaks well for you. And second is good for us, -and- you." he joked. "Happy to have you." he said, sighing and saying "Stand down." to the rest of the gathered. His attention going to the Sylvari, he said to the Sergeant "Bring him to the mess tent and let him eat." he said, unsure of his motives, since the -other- Sylvari just strode into camp like she had been there all along. "The rest of us...how ya feel about an early meal?" the Captain said, taking off his helmet and shaking his wet hair out, he pulled his hood up again. "And getting out of the rain." he said, striding towards the communal eating area. That'd be a good place for everyone to say "Hello", and a good focus of activity for anyone new. Looking to the head of the Engineers, he said "Go and feed your men, now, too. There won't be any food for them later after the work. Take an hour, no less."...gesturing to a newer section of Krytan troops, he asked "They tought you how to dig, didn't they? Get to work where they left off."
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Wrenching his blade from the ground, and hooking it over his back, the Charr nods to the picket and growls something at the Lynx. The large cat trots off towards the mess tent. Taking a last look at the jungle behind him, he heads off to find some the Warmaster.

"Wonderful." he growls sarcasticaly, "All humans and Norn here."

Turning he eyes the Sylvari that had just appeared with him, and growls low, "Sylvari too..."

Walking through the camp, he spots a small group of individuals with one bearing the obvious airs of a Vigil Warmaster. Walking up to Mannfred and the group around him.

"Whose in charge here, and when does the killing start?"
Centurion Arum Bloodclaw
Lore Cannith of the Seraph [WIP]

gricks.1897
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"It's obvious I was stuck too far in the tent," a large, white furred female charr said as she stepped out and removed her helmet. Her horns were large and jutted forward, but her eyes were sharp. "Crusader Snowfall Bloodrebel, member of Arah company, the Fourth under command of Warmaster Xanthe." She motioned to Avalona. Snowfall was quiet for the most part. Until the fighting started, that was. "And as for the commotion outside camp," she said as she motioned toward Shani and Abisayo. "If I'm correct in the stories I've heard about the Sheriff of Prospect Valley, I'd say we don't have to worry about any Mordem."

"Ifn they ain't all dead, then the job's only half done," Shani said, then proceeded to sniff in a large breath through her nose and spit onto the ground.

Abisayo just shook her head and chuckled. "No one ever accused you of being lady like."

"Ain't got time fer thet out here," she replied and motioned for Abisayo to join her in the mess tent.
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Warmaster Feywind is still limping. "What do I have to do to get medical attention here? My leg is about to- Thorns!" She falls, losing her grip on the staff. "This is humiliating... In all my four years of service, this has never happened!" She pushes herself up slowly.
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((Sorry, rl calls. I'm fine for now))
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Looked over his shoulder to Warmaster Feywind, and gestured to the other Vigil troopers that were being tended to that Warmaster Avalona had bought with her. "Over there. Outside or in that tent, depending how injured you are. You're still standing, so...I'd say take shelter outside it, with the rest of the walking wounded. Critically injured are inside." he told her, looking to the Charr that had come over. Indeed, there were some Vigil and Volunteer Charr troops here. The Krytan units -seemed- to have a few Charr in them as well, though they were mostly filling in gaps in the line; Vigil or other troopers who had lost their original units tended to go wherever.

He said to the Charr "I am. At least when it comes to the Camp and any who are assigned here. Everyone else stays of their own accord and helps out. Most of us have a common mission, anyways. Next sortie isn't until this evening. Not unless they attack us here. Again."

As Feywind went down, a Krytan Private and a Sylvani from the Vigil that were on station with rifles would have come, to go and help her up. "There ya go, Warmaster!" the Krytan woman said cheerfully. "Healer's will have you up and running in no time!"

"Or limping." the Sylvani said sarcastically, earning a seething glare from the Krytan that was assisting the Warmaster. "...Limping effectively." he corrected, as Manfred dissapeared into the mess tent.

It was still early, and people were still out on their particular duty rotations. The people who had been working the earliest were already in the hall eating, relieved by the replacements. There seemed to be a large, roasted...lizard. Of some kind. With bread and cheese and other vegetables that had been bought over on the airship; that stuff tended to spoil faster than most.

Manfred spoke to any who would have joined him "We don't have any special officer seating here. Or better food for officers." he said with a grin. That might be disappointing to some, but Manfred never approved of preferential treatment to begin with. Going to go stand in line for a plate, the Captain would have gone and got himself a healthy slab of lizard. And some bread and cheese and gravy. Of who-knew-what. "By the way, if any of you are good at hunting...you can always join one of our hunting parties. It's a good way to get out of any chore you don't happen to like." he said with a laugh. "Since the Sylvari tend to shoot at our hunters and foragers, we cut them a bit of slack."
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"Thanks." She looks piercingly at the sylvari. "Crusader, I'm in no mood for sarcasm. My unit just got massacred. Anything else and I'll get worse. Keep that in mind." Feywind seems brisk and businesslike but she offers an approving nod to the Krytan. She adjusts her grip on the staff and limps forward.
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http://www.guildwars2roleplayers.com/forum/m/2737230/viewthread/20134607-tcbg-beth-feywind-permawip-comments-welcome/post/132420751#post_132420751
http://www.guildwars2roleplayers.com/forum/m/2737230/viewthread/30880464-tc-karigan-gyren
http://www.guildwars2roleplayers.com/home/m/2737230/viewthread/31135773-researcher-trixxi/page/1
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