The city of Prontera was bustling in the chill afternoon breeze. The fervor created by the Kings summoning of heroes had brought a new life to the winter torn city. Pink faced vendors, yelled from their stalls, calling travelers and citizens alike over to share the warmth of a small heater and for a chance to look at wares. It was almost as if the city had regained its hope. But underneath it all ran a current of fear. Fear of the wrath of the gods. That their King would so boldly state that Midgard would not fall in the coming Ragnarök would surely not go unnoticed by the Gods. But the citizens loved Sigurd, their King. And they rallied to him, fear or no, pressing on in the every deepening winter.

[All characters are currently in or near the city. You are among the last heroes to answer the Kings call. Please make haste through the city toward the Castle, where you will all partake in an audience with the King.]

Lerod waits nervously outside the grand doors to the castle. Do I really want to go through with this? he thinks to himself. He has come here from the Dwarven Lands, where he grew up. He is a human, but he doesn't remember how he ended up with the dwarves. He was always picked on by the dwarves because he was weak. 'He'll never become anything' they said. 'He's just a baby in a man's body'. He responded to the king's call to prove that he isn't weak. Now he's having second thoughts. It couldn't be that bad living as a wimp for the rest of my life. he thinks. No, I have to do this!! He opened the doors leading to the castle. Inside, he saw things he never saw while he was with the dwarves. Big chandeliers, polished tile floors, and even something soft for a change. The dwarves had lumpy matresses and no sheets. The walls and floors in a dwarven building were metal and uneven. He walked down the hall, going through doorway to doorway, finally reaching the throne room. He aproaches the king...

I make my way toward the castle staying in the shadows to avoid anything unneccesary.

Perhaps, I shouldn't have come to this icey hell. I'm stuck in this land, thanks to my curiousity. Whatever gets me through this faster is most welcome. Hopefully the king of these creatures will be of some assistance.

I'll miss my clan and my friends. But, I will return to them one day and destroy our enemies. But for now, I must help the King as well.

Illyasviel finally descended through the clouds. She hides her black wings and start to walk in fornt of the city gates. Odin has ordered me to do this mission, and i shall do it with pride! Whatever the king ask of me i shall do my best... 'Tis is my duty.

Bael walks around the city nervously, clutching his armor and weapons to his body. Those were the only things he knew, his companions, the only things that he was sure were real among this madness.
Madness...? This is Midgard! he thinks to himself.
The yelling salesmen, the crowd rushing past Bael, everyone so damn worried about their own affairs... there was no sense of identity or purpose here, only noise and heat.
Bael directed all his will to the only place where he felt there was a sense of identity and purpose: the castle. The call of the king for fighters. He was going to answer it. Because that was Bael's identity, his purpose.

The past week Kayn spent his time around Midgard a few miles out in the forest. It's not common for Dark Elves to be amist casual parties in public. He had just finished a scroll to better hone his skills and packed ever so lgihtly to head into town. He dawned his usual black hooded cape as to hide his elf-like features which include his white hair. It's not very easy to hunt with such bright features. Also, his gold eyes pretty much give him away immediately.

Kayn bypassed all the venders in town as to avoid contact with humans, and pressed towards the castle. And reguardless of how discrete his attempt may be, the large bladed staff hanging freely from his back always caught someone's attention.

Kayn just pulled his hood farther over his face and pressed on.

Sigurd stood staring down at the assortment of faces. He sighed as his eyes passed from face to face. Such a motley assortment of heroes. Although, each one was surprising enough in his/her own way. Sigurd could see each one of them plainly for what they were, it was his talent..the reason he had become as great as he was. The ability to know a person, to read their past and their present. And in turn, puzzle out their future. He could see that each one had a part to play...but he could not tell if the one he sought was among them. Although, one figure did seem obscure to him. His past seemed vague, shrouded almost. It made no difference currently.

"Welcome heroes. Welcome to Prontera, to the City of Heroes." The group shrugged, none standing to close to another, all of them seasoned warriors in their own rights... But how long would they last. "You are all great warriors....But it takes more to be a hero. This world demands more if we are to survive Ragnarök!" Sigurd saw a few winces at that statement, and he knew exactly why. "Come heroes, show me you are worthy of protecting this world!"

[8 Armored guards all carrying spears step out from behind columns in the great hall. They surround the group in a large circle and press closer. Seems like the King needs you to prove that you're all heroes.]

8 Armored Guards - HP - 9 each
AP - Unkown
DF - Unkown

I'll just... um... well... I kind of... AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Jerod ducks for cover behind a stone collum.

"Ein Sveriar Einsphleria Arshcpi Arkanonan Berlaminung, I summon thee einheriar of the earth. Answer my summons and protect your master!"
I'll attack the other guard while the einheriar attacks the other

What am I doing? I should be helping the others right now! Maybe the dwarves were right... maybe I am a wimp... No!!!! Jerod screamed suddenly. Take this! He summersaults into the air, crashing down on the gaurd's head with his dwarven sword. THen he backflips off, landing next to the others.

As the king spoke, Bael stood before him. Bael noticed how the eyes of the king slid from one person to another, until they faced his own. Bael could sense the sharp mind behind those eyes, he felt the king scanning every aspect of him. Bael felt the disturbing sensation that he had nothing to offer the king, nothing to be scanned.
Bael was feeling rather weird. Uncomfortable.

But then the guards appeared. They were armed, and they were approaching. Bael knew, he felt the desire to battle coming from the guards. Instantly, it was answered with his own.
He felt a familiar tickling as he activated a certain part of his brain that he knew so well. Bael's rational mind was turned off and his combat intellect was activated. His hand slid on its own to his back, gripping the cold steel shaft of his weapon. With his other hand, Bael undid the strap that tied the halberd to the back of his armor.
Those things were second nature to him and in a matter of moments he had assumed his trusted battle stance, holding the halberd with both hands.

Bael directed himself to the nearest guard. Spear. Good range. Bael calculated the reach of the guard's spear. He positioned his feet in the right angle. He shifted his weight to the proper leg, and a fraction of a second thereafter, propelled himself forward, using the extra momentum to increase the power of his attack: Bael swings the halberd in a quick upward motion aimed at the guard's head, planning to split his skull open.
There was no compassion in battle.

"Hmph... these warriors beside me aren't half bad. If they become heroes, their soul will proof to be useful." Illyasviel smiled coldly and started to slash one guard again and again until the armor the guard was wearing broke and there were blood all over his body.

"Ainsprung Rending Spralash!" The einheriar used rending slash to the other guard and damaged the guard, but was not down yet. "Riblam, bow of darkness form thy bow and arrow, come to me!" Illyasviel then ran trying to see if she could attack from long distance. But the large amount of guards is making the process difficult.

Lerod glanced over his shoulder. He saw a woman with a slight grin on her face. How could she be smiling while we're... he was cut short of thought when a gaurd lunged at him with a spear. He parried over to the side and gave it a good slash in the back.

Tired and out of breath, and silently scolding himself for having allowed a pretty human girl on the road just outside of town to distract him long enough to make it so that his presence before royalty would be a belated one, William finally bursts into the throne room where he knew everyone was probably impatiently waiting for him.

Between heavy breaths, he managed to speak, "Ah, please forgive my lateness, everyone, Your Majesty, but I -"

William's words are cut off when his mind finally manages to get a grip on the scene before him. Armed soldiers surrounding his other seven potential friends who were summoned, many of them already fighting!

At first, the young elven child-turned-swordsman named William panicked, never having witnessed people fighting and slaying each other before his very eyes, ... and he wondered if it was better to flee and just forget everything.

.... But that made no sense. In his naive bravado he had determined long ago to help save this world, and chaos and bloodshed could not help but be a natural part of it all. Yes, William, even with his rather tiny and frail body (well, frail in comparison to these guards) would stand and fight whoever came at him with intent to kill, and that was happening to him right now. Looking sideways, he saw one of the giants in iron armor charging at him with a murderous gleam in the guard's eye. William hastily drew his Northern Longblade sword and held it up before his slightly terrified face, and, waiting first for the fast-approaching guard to attack so that he might see how best to defend against it, William silently lunged forward with sword poised ....

... And it was over. Somehow, William had manged to duck underneath the man's beheading blow and swiftly drive the Northern longblade into his chest with enough force to penetrate the hard metal of his armor and still strike a fatal blow. The would-be little hero thought he saw the guard smile with a strange wistfulness for just a moment as he fell slumped against the wall, not another breath to come from him.

Trying to retrieve his wits about him from the unexpected attack, with great concern William then turned back to see if his seven friends and the good King were all right.

Jerod was struggling to take this thing down. His attacks were going through, but they weren't doing much. I won't back down! he told himself repeatedly. Finally, he took one down. Only about 6 more to go. Gulp.

"Hey, little guy!", Shouts to Jerod. "Can you please do me a favor and finish one up for me? I already soften one up... my hands are kind of full right now. Tee hee...". Illya grins coldly. She continues on avoiding the guards. She's trying to find a safe place to use Riblam.

Dazzled by the fact that a girl spoke to him, he had to snap his head back into the game. I'm on it! He ran, lightning fats, over to where the guard was and sliced it to a finish.

"Pfft, I dont have time for this", Leon says to himself as he watches the battle from the darkness. So far, noone has noticed him, and he plans on keeping it that way. "I'm a merc. and I don't fight unneccesary battles, unless I'm attacked first", Leon says to himself as he fights off the urge to jump in and help kill the guards.

"Looks like I get to fight after all", Leon says as a guard spot him and tries to go for a stab. A quik jump and he is standing on stop of the sword that is now stuck in the wall. With a quik and powerfull kick Leon sends the guard flying into another guard then resumes his possition in the darkness.