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Ms.Ezra

Innkeeper of The Enchanted Suites
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Posting Speed
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  2. 1-3 posts per week
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  1. Male
  2. Female
Genres
Sci-Fi, Fantasy, Superhero, Horror, Slife-of-life.
You have all met what you thought to be end of your mortal. Some of you fell in glorious battle. Some of old age. And a few unfortunates died as the result of a grave betrayal. Whether your beliefs told of an eternal paradise or damnation for your actions, you do not find yourself where you expected.

Instead, you find yourself in one of two places. The first, is rather bright but unsettlingly eerie.

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The man at the desk seems a peculiar mix of distracted and bored, yet nonchalant as he watches you come up to him as if he has been expecting you.


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How do you react to this sudden strange twist of fate? Attempting to question him yields nothing, even if you physically threaten him. He says nothing the whole time. He only reads his newspaper, and shows you’re a piece of paper with your portrait next to the dates of your birth and death. Then you are suddenly pulled into the nearest door, all your strength meaning nothing to it.

Or maybe you meet another equally mysterious, but wholly more malicious force….
 
For those of you who've met your demise by the hand of cruel betrayal, have been cast away or harbor a great hatred within you; find yourself in dark and ominous hallway in the presence of a woman.


The woman exhumes a malicious force but to those of you in question feel a sense of salvation as she extends her hand out to you with a devious smirk. Her entire attention is focused on you and yours on her no matter what has or is currently happening to you.

You cannot help but grab her hand in the hopes of ending your suffering or giving you an opportunity to act out the pain and hatred that you feel deep down in the depths of your wounded soul. As you reach out and grasp her hand a bleak darkness envelops your being as you feel yourself being sent away, elsewhere to continue on once more...​
 
Only moments before, Leonidas had felt dirt and grass under his feet as he watched a hail of arrows come down upon him. He had closed his eyes, welcoming the embrace of the beautiful death he had desired since taking up his shield as a warrior of Sparta. He and his men had held their ground as long as they could; the Persians paid for this pass with a hundred warriors for every mile. Xerxes would have the Hot Gates, but this battle would show that the price for the rest of Greece would be too high for him.

That was the true mark of a master strategist to Leonidas: to win even when you had lost.
And so he had felt the arrows pierce his flesh and cried out not in pain, but triumph, with his last breaths before falling onto his back.


But when he opened his eyes he did not feel the ground anymore. He felt a cold floor. He opened his eyes and got to his feet, yet he did not see the grim Charon in his boat waiting on the bank of the River Styx. He did not see Cerberus chomping in the distance. No, instead he saw this long white hall of doors, and a thin strange man at a table. Leonidas did not feel as if he had just been through a fatal battle, although his shield, sword and armor was next to him. He sheathed his xiphos and carried his helmet under a free arm while approaching the man.

“Are you…Charon?” He asked, incredulous. Perhaps the legends were wrong?

The man looked up from the paper he held, and presented him with a smaller sheet of paper bearing his likeness. Next to it were the dates of his birth and death. He quickly searched his person, but found no coins for the man.

“Appears the Persians were very bitter. Not even a speck of copper to pay my way.” He shrugged his muscular shoulders and was about to try and negotiate with the man, when the door nearest him opened into a void of darkness. Leonidas felt some immense force, like an invisible tide, pull him into it.
“What is the meaning of this?!” Leonidas bellowed as he tried in vain to plant his feet on the floor, putting on his helmet quickly so his other arms was free to grab onto the desk of the odd man. Neither moved with him, yet did nothing to hold him back from the unseen tide. Eventually he was wrenched away from the desk and fell screaming into the void beyond the door.


Was this the cruel fate that awaited him? Hades? Had he fallen to his hubris like so many other dwellers of Hades? This seemed most terrifying and likely explanation, until he again felt dirt and grass on his back. He watched the door not close, but vanish before his eyes.

And there he was. Alone in a grassy field under a bright sky. He leapt to his feet, xiphos ready. This looked like no forest he had seen in Greece. His heart thumped so loud he felt it in his throat. The sudden strange ordeal had him very much on edge. Even the calls of the birds sounded strange to his ears. The king cautiously turned his eyes skyward. The sun was much the same at least. About mid-day by his reckoning.

“Where…am I?” He asked himself. He could not pinpoint why, but he had a strong sense that this was not Greece. Or the fabled Elysian Fields. No….there was danger in these unknown woods. He could feel it.
 
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14 August 1942
"Mariya!" Grinning bitterly a woman of much the same size and appearance gives a brief nod, all the while limping along in the Trench. Not that Natalya was doing any better, she had been hit by shrapnel and was limping along, using her SVT as a makeshift crutch.

"Those Damn Germans, they never know when to give up do they?" She asks theoretically, spitting on the ground as she does so, with the Red banner glistening from the sunlight hitting it, the sound of Gunfire could be heard all around, the steady Booming of Machineguns and rifles spitting out fire, the characteristic KRAK of German Mausers. Though bit by bit the sounds of German weapons outpaced Soviet.

It would not be long now. And capture was not an option, if they were, rape would be the least of what would be done to the pair. "I am sorry Mariya.. The Germans will win today, but I have faith one day we will stand in Berlin, as heroes the Red Army is the Strongest." Giving a slight wink Mariya chuckles. "I should have went west and worked in a factory, but someone had to be your spotter.. I'll see you on the other side some time, I'm sure."

"Hah, what are you saying Mariya, if the commissar were to hear that.." The pair share a laugh, collapsing to lean against the trench wall. Now all they had to do was wait. Sure enough a squad or two of German Soldiers appeared, fighting through the Trench, coming upon the two women, one takes aim to fire, as a stick Grenade is thrown towards him, and another is set off in the Trench proper. Feeling the flash of flame and sting of metal, all who were there died. Natalya faintly could be heard screaming as the explosion engulfed them all.

"FOR THE MOTHERLAND! DEATH TO THE FASCISTS!" With a final deafening roar, the Fascists would not be gaining a new prize this day.

Today Unknown time.​


But what happened next was truly shocking, Natalya could open her eyes once more... a White Room, many doors.. Was this a hospital? It must be, what else could it be. Though the Desk Clerk..looked strange..

"Ahaha We Survived! Polivanova! We are... Mariya where are you?" Peering around, it was then that Natalya was aware that she carried her rifle, the Grenades were gone.. What mirical happened that she avoided the Grenade Fragments, to come back alive here...... Back to life, shuddering at the thought she still had her injuries from before.. What kind of hospital was this. "Excuse me, is their a Doctor..have you seen Mariya? She was a spotter that worked with me." As the man holds up a sheet with Natalya's details, she seemingly pays it no mind.

The Man takes a drag of his cigarette, blowing out a puff of smoke, before pointing at a door. Staring at the sheet once more, the man seemed to be unconcerned. Taking him at his word, or rather motion, Natalya does as she's told, suddenly the door flings open, sucking her inside through some sort of portal. "You Chekist Bastard! You lied to me! Arrgh!" Being thrown from the door, Natalya keeps her rifle at the ready as she stumbles to the ground. Silently cursing the vanishing door.


doing a spot check of her person, there was only 60 rounds for the Rifle, she had water, a spare change of undergarments, some K rations, olive drab poncho and a compass. That was what she needed for now, Opening the Compass and finding north, the woman holds her rifle in her left, setting off to the East, hopefully to Soviet Forces, though this whole area did not look anything like Russia as she crosses the field.
 
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If there was anything the last master of Alamut knew? It was how to turn a situation into his favor. He joined in quietly with a new group sometime ago, feigning muteness as he used signs to communicate. Their obvious disdain for him made it easier to know them, to know his place. Their weapons were reminiscent of crusaders, long since gone by the time he had assumed power... Their language was altogether strange, considering how much he knew from his studies. But the true kicker, were the inhuman...Humans.

Or whatever they were, he encountered. At the least some things remained the same. People killed for the same reasons and it was enough to make him reconsider. So as soon as he was far enough along, he stole rations and supplies and vanished.

And now, would be enjoying the fruits of his labor as he feasted in a ruin.​
 
Doc Holliday

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He awoke, expecting damnation, what he saw certainly reminded him more of limbo. He was too wise to expect heaven for his own case.

" Well, it looks like you've avoided damnation Holliday ! "

Progressing down the boring white hallway towards what appeared to be a clerk behind a desk. Doc waited patiently for a moment, being the only person besides the clerk in the room. The clerk looked up briefly, pointing to one of the many doors. Then Doc found himself moving towards that doorway, and not of his own volition. Doc knew, wherever he happened to be, he was going to end up going out this door.

Out the door he went, surrendering to the moment. Feeling ground under his feet, warm air and sunlight on his face. He felt... Alive. The last time he remembered being alive, it was excruciatingly painful to breath. Now, there was no sign of his tuberculosis, none at all.

He started walking, choosing a random direction. He hoped to find people, civilization of some sort. He took stalk of what he had, likely what they buried him with. Only one gun, but plenty of ammo. Good old Wyatt ! ( he laughed to himself thinking of his friend stashing a gun with a bunch of bullets in his coffin. Laudanum, whiskey. Yes indeed, well prepared. He absentmindedly reached for his tobacco pouch, not there. Well damn!
 
Opening the Compass and finding north, the woman holds her rifle in her left, setting off to the East, hopefully to Soviet Forces, though this whole area did not look anything like Russia as she crosses the field.
As she ventured East, the woman would come through a forest to wide rolling green plains. The wind made ripples in the blades of grass as it came in a great gust that hit her full in the face. On that same wind came something else; the thunder of many hooves. She would see off in the distance, what appeared to be a herd of wild horses making their way briskly over the hills. But as they came closer, she would see that they were not horses. Not fully. It was a herd of centaurs in flight headed right in her direction. But they paid her no heed as they ran. No, they were all female as could be told from their long hair and bare chests, with frightened faces. At their sides were their young, appearing just as fightened.

In no time, the herd was upon her..

@RedArmyShogun

“Where…am I?” He asked himself. He could not pinpoint why, but he had a strong sense that this was not Greece. Or the fabled Elysian Fields. No….there was danger in these unknown woods. He could feel it.
As the King of Sparta went further into the forest, he would come to a small river making its way calmly through the forest. It might have been a nice scene, were it not for the site on the other bank. A small, young-looking figure in a ragged tunic lying prone in a patch of bloody grass. Were he to venture further, Leonidas would know immediately this was no human. The boy(or was it girl?) had quite long ears.

He absentmindedly reached for his tobacco pouch, not there. Well damn!
While Holiday cursed his lack of tobacco, he was being observed from afar. The door had brought him to the edge of territory controlled by a small, spritely people who did not regard 'Big Folk' as trustworthy, but weren't foolish enough to always pick a fight. This ranger knew her people's ways and orders, so she only kept to the shadows of trees of bushes while keeping the strangely-dressed man in sight. The particular motion the man had made was very familiar, as the unseen ranger hung her pouch of pipe weed on the same side.

Perhaps he could be a friend yet. The ranger thought.

@Gands
 
Doc Holliday

The gambler continued with his leisurely stroll in the general direction he had been heading in, getting closer to the figure in the distance. He hadn't really noticed the figure and he wasn't in any hurry since he was traveling in a place he didn't know, going a direction he didn't know to a destination he didn't know.

On the start of his journey he picked the direction based on the drawing of four cards, each placed on a cardinal point near as he could figure. Just the same, he was humming a dirty tune that Big Nosed Kate used to sing to him.

@Ms.Ezra
 
As she ventured East, the woman would come through a forest to wide rolling green plains. The wind made ripples in the blades of grass as it came in a great gust that hit her full in the face. On that same wind came something else; the thunder of many hooves. She would see off in the distance, what appeared to be a herd of wild horses making their way briskly over the hills. But as they came closer, she would see that they were not horses. Not fully. It was a herd of centaurs in flight headed right in her direction. But they paid her no heed as they ran. No, they were all female as could be told from their long hair and bare chests, with frightened faces. At their sides were their young, appearing just as fightened.

In no time, the herd was upon her..
Humming as she marched along, Natalya walks through the forest, humming a national anthem of the Soviet Union, upon emerging through to the otherside, this was more strange by the minute. But at last rolling plains were ahead. "Ah, the Steppes..but rolling Green.. Am I in Belarus.. We pushed the Fascist back so far.." It was then she heard the thundering stomps of horses. Horses were pulled from the Frontline in all but support roles, Trucks had largely replaced them.

"I'm not in Russia anymore am I?" As if to have that knowledge suddenly dawn upon her what happened next was more of a surprise, women were riding them. No, correction, women were half of them. "This is not possible.." Studying the frightened expressions and noting the young among them, the Soviet sniper waves her hands in front of her in a singling motion, rifle in one hand hoping they would stop. Alternatively she could shoot in the air once to startle them into stopping, though if they were more like animals than human it could cause them to run away even more scattered.

"Tch." There were too many unknowns here, and the life skills Natalya had picked up were fairly useless here. Aeronautics and sniper training had little to do with mythical beasts and strange lands. Shouldering the SVT up against her right shoulder and taking a kneeling stance Natalya takes aim to see what was beyond the beasts.. For now that was best in her situation. Chambering a 7.62x54r cartridge the sniper's right index finger stays off to the side, so as to not accidentally discharge her rifle into the Centaurs.

Calling out in Russian, it wasn't likely the beasts would understand her, all the while she screams for them to Halt.
 
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Shouldering the SVT up against her right shoulder and taking a kneeling stance Natalya takes aim to see what was beyond the beasts.. For now that was best in her situation. Chambering a 7.62x54r cartridge the sniper's right index finger stays off to the side, so as to not accidentally discharge her rifle into the Centaurs.
The centaurs finally see her, and while they do not know what she is aiming with, know it has to be some kind of weapon. The mares at the head call to the rest of change course away from her but still into the forest. Most of the herd strafes past her, but some are too frightened to change course. They only run by her as they stampede through.

Looking beyond the herd, Natalya would see a company of ten men following in their wake. They wore grey armor, and rode horses with similar armor while brandishing spears and crossbows. They stopped their pursuit at the behest of their captain at the lead. Then they noticed something and rode over to it.

It was a colt on the ground. Not injured, but heaving from exhaustion. The captain asks him "Where is your herd going?" but the boy gives no answer. He asks again, louder, but to no avail. He turns his nose up at the colt and raises his spear, ready to thrust it down into the young one.

---------------------------------
Seeing the man headed her way, the ranger quietly changes position to be out of his way as he strolls along. On closer view, she saw that he was an older human. Elderly even. Not the type to pick a fight, in her experience.

Here goes nothing

The girl cautiously called out to the man from her hiding spot "Old man. I am Edna. I am not here to harm." She said in the broken English she had been able to pick up from her brief interactions with humans.

@Gands
 
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Doc Holliday

"Old man ?" He smiled and laughed softly.

" Young lady, I would have you know, were I at home, I would be considered in my middle years, and at the just barely. Do people not live long around here ?"

He bowed in the general direction of the voice. He then slowly brought out his silvered flask and took a sip of the fine whiskey

" I would offer you a sip, fine whiskey, ( he grinned mischievously ) but you don't sound old enough! Ah, forgive me miss Edna, where are my manners. I am John Henry Holliday, known to some as Doc. I am only recently arrived in this beautiful countryside."

"Do you suspect me of something suspicious? Why miss Edna, are you hiding. "?

@Ms.Ezra
 
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"...Huh...?"

Only murmur of confusion escaped the former leader of the great Saika clan. Looking around, he found his surroundings to now be quite different than what they formerly were. What was once the aftermath of a battlefield, was now a calm, serene, if not eerie hallway with a single other person sitting in the middle of it adorning strange clothing. Now, Shigehide wasn't picky. After how the commander he enlisted under botched up that battlefield, the middle-aged ronin was simply looking to get to somewhere safe. He didn't really care where so long as it was somewhere he and the battered, fleeing soldiers and mercenaries he withdrew with wouldn't be ambushed by enemy troops chasing down demoralized and scattered runners. However, he wasn't quite sure if this location was better or worse than his last. Sure, it was quiet, but the vibe it came with didn't sit right with the samurai.

Taking his attention away from the doors lined along the walls, he instead looked towards the man reading a paper sitting in a desk. There were—many things Shigehide wished to question the man regarding his items and apparel, but the matter of where he was and how he got there was the most important.

"Uh..." Stepping forward with his rifle slung over his shoulder and his left arms rubbing the back of his neck not quite sure how to pose the question. "...Okay, for starters. What is this place? Second. How did I get here? And third... Who tha' hell are you?"

Shigehide paused a moment, waiting for the man to acknowledge him in some way or give some kind of response, but he did nothing. Nothing except read that paper of his. Looking toward his desk, he spotted a sign that spoke neatly "Out for Lunch. Will be back shortly". He would've guessed that the man was a foreigner, but this at least showed that whoever the guy was could understand what he was saying.

"Look, typically I'm all for introductions and small-talk before questions but... in this situation, I need some answers first. I don't remember how I even got here, man." Once again, Shigehide paused to wait for the foreigner to acknowledge him. Leaning down to see the man at eye-level, he waved his hand and whistled in an attempt to grasp his focus. "Hello? I know ya' speak Japanese. C'mon, guy. Even if you didn't speak my language, you have to notice the guy talking gibberish in front of you." Once again, Saika paused before letting out a defeated sigh. "Well, maybe you'll acknowledge me if I play around with some of the stuff on yer-"

Suddenly, as Magoichi reached for one of the trinkets on the foreigner's desk, the strange man firmly placed his papers down, leaned forward to grasp the sign and remove it from the desk. "Next." The man finally spoke, in his language nonetheless.

Standing back at full height, Shigehide scratched his stubble in confusion. "...Next? Next for what, Pal? You still haven't given any information on this damn place. It's neat an' shiny, but that doesn't really put me at ease..." He spoke, though once again, it seemed the spectacled man was back to playing mute. All the man did was acquire a writing utensil and begin scribbling on a piece of paper with—wait, that was his name. Not even Magoichi Saika, but his real name; Shigehide. Not only that, but various other information on his life was printed on it. Unfortunately, the ronin hardly had enough time to lean over the desk before he began feeling himself being dragged towards the walls.

Glancing back, one of the doors had changed, its entryway now as pitch black as the void. Not only that, but it was pulling him in, no matter how Shigehide resisted. Before he knew it, he was already halfway into the door. "O-Oi! Hey! Help me out here! What?! Yer just gonna sit an watch?! HE-" Cut off, he was yanked through the doorway completely with the man in white looking upon the even with the interest of watching paint dry.

Thankfully, this doorway was not sending him to Hell. Either that or Hell was a lot more attractive than it was made out to be. Being spit out in the middle of a grassland, Shigehide shot up, rifle aimed forward as he checked out his immediate surroundings. Deciding wherever he was was not immediately threatening, the Japanese rifleman let out another sigh and slung the arquebus onto his shoulder. "Well, let's see... I got around thirty shots-worth of ammo. Booze, that's always good. Emblem... and some coins... Well, off to great start."

As the samurai began to walk off in a random direction, he pulled out his gourd and poured some of its contents into his mouth. "Let's see if anyone around here is friendlier than that four-eyed dandy."
 
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"Mariya, give me-..." Pausing at that, Natalya sighs softly, her friend was not here. Watching the men over the Smaller Centaur it seemed they were not allies. Sighting down the scope and measuring distance, Natalya judges the situation as she see's it. These men were humans, but they were hunting down these creatures.

"Ten men, wind is fair.." Observing the situation further the situation reminded her of what the Nazi scum had done across the motherland, these men had to be some form of punitive force, armed with Crossbow, spear and sword Natalya arches an eyebrow, what sort of primitive savages were these.. Regardless she had 10 rounds in her mag, and there were 10 men here exactly.

"Can't let them report back, need to take my shots.. I don't know what you horse people are, but this reminds me too much of our Sacred Struggle." Centering on the Captain and pulling the trigger, the round impacts even before the sound reaches the men. Watching a blossom of blood from the man's chest, Natalya quickly shifts aim to the man furthest to the back, opening up on him, the semi-automatic feed ejects a 2nd cartridge, feeding in the third round. Aiming for the crossbowman closest to the cult, the third bang of the rifle echo's.

"Heh...hundred's around Moscow, what is ten more Fascists." So far missing not a single shot, it was highly unlikely any of the 10 would escape the repeating firearm. Being over 500 years ahead in tech, the shock and confusion should set in as the group of 10 is reduced in rapid succession one after the next.
 
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As the King of Sparta went further into the forest, he would come to a small river making its way calmly through the forest. It might have been a nice scene, were it not for the site on the other bank. A small, young-looking figure in a ragged tunic lying prone in a patch of bloody grass. Were he to venture further, Leonidas would know immediately this was no human. The boy(or was it girl?) had quite long ears.
"Water..." Leonidas thanked the gods as he saw the river and dropped his shield, then took off his helmet to kneel at the bank. He splashed his dirty face, and slurped at the water gathered in his cupped hands. He looked around to see if this could be a proper and safe time for a bath, then his eyes fell on the body on the opposite bank. Taking up helm and shield again, he made his way across on rocks to inspect the body.

At first he thought it was a woman from how thin and fair the being appeared. Then he turned it over and saw a deep wound on a flat chest. The wound did not stir him as he had done far worse, but the ears raised his brows. He prodded them with the tip of his sword, nicked one, and it bled. "What were you, and who were you running from?" He asked himself, even more perplexed now.
 
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The smell of fire felt like she's getting pulled back into what happened that day, that day she felt horrible something that hardly ever feels. She had felt like she was the enemy all along, fighting for what purpose? it wasn't clear to her, all she can ever think of is the words of the people calling her a witch, whore. and everything she can imagine. No one can tell how much she despises everyone. Tonight joan felt like a blazing sun, it was like a gift from hell. Her powers was like no other, her powers were meant to kill anyone in plain sight and, hopefully not missing a single being.

"Scream, scream like you've never screamed before. It is just music to my ears" She says load enough for the people under the blanket of flames, they couldn't do nothing but think about the things about life so far before they burn into ash. All joan did was laugh in a sinister way, moving her hands in various motions like a conductor doing hand gestures to the ones playing a song in front of the audience. All they can do is just sit back, and enjoy the marvelous show. It was like they were brainwashed, and all they can do is just sit there. This is what it's like to the people running like a chicken with its head cut off.

"AHAHAHAHAHA BURN YOU FILTHY PEASANTS, BURN LIKE HELL AHAHAHAHAHA"​
 
" I would offer you a sip, fine whiskey, ( he grinned mischievously ) but you don't sound old enough! Ah, forgive me miss Edna, where are my manners. I am John Henry Holliday, known to some as Doc. I am only recently arrived in this beautiful countryside."

"Do you suspect me of something suspicious? Why miss Edna, are you hiding. "?
Whiskey. Now that was a word she knew very well as it had been her people's chief export, in times they could do business with the human merchant guilds.

Edna rose from her hiding spot and started walking towards him. By all accounts she was neither a pretty or ugly girl, more plain than anything with short brown hair and dark brown eyes. Almost unremarkable, if she weren't just four feet tall. She wore a simple dark green tunic and a matching cloak. She regarded the man with a smile while fishing into a pocket of her tunic.

"Forgive Doc. Humans have not been kind to us like they have before." She explained. Her little hand pulled a small flask made of tin and she held it aloft for him as she came within a couple feet of him, holding out the other expectantly. "If you are ally, we can taste whiskey."

@Gands

As the samurai began to walk off in a random direction, he pulled out his gourd and poured some of its contents into his mouth. "Let's see if anyone around here is friendlier than that four-eyed dandy."
Should the samurai stay his course, he would see grassland give way to scattered groves of tall trees, and eventually see plumes of smoke coming up over the hills. As he went in that direction, he would come in sight of a peculiar village.

Tjf9FB.jpg


From a nearby tree came a voice, a tad higher but nothing like a child's even if one would hear an air of mirth in the words.

"Oi! Big Man!" The voice called from up a nearby tree. Looking up, the samurai beheld a small man in a tunic sitting on a thick branch, smoking a long pipe while his proportionately large padded feet swung beneath him. The small man regarded him with a single raised brow, but was more curious than cautious. Even seeing his weapon didn't give him pause, since it was unlike any he had seen before and therefore didn't register as a weapon.

"Ya here ta trade, er are ya here ta harass us 'wee-folk'?" He asked, making air quotes with his fingers. He said all this in the language of the humans of this world, English.

@EmperorsChosen

entering on the Captain and pulling the trigger, the round impacts even before the sound reaches the men. Watching a blossom of blood from the man's chest, Natalya quickly shifts aim to the man furthest to the back, opening up on him, the semi-automatic feed ejects a 2nd cartridge, feeding in the third round. Aiming for the crossbowman closest to the cult, the third bang of the rifle echo's.
So far missing not a single shot, it was highly unlikely any of the 10 would escape the repeating firearm. Being over 500 years ahead in tech, the shock and confusion should set in as the group of 10 is reduced in rapid succession one after the next.
When the captain fell, the spear fell just short of the prone colt while the other men were nearly thrown from their startled horses. They tried to scatter and make for cover, but they still feel before getting to safety. The frightened horses scattered, leaving the lone colt amid ten armored bodies.

Meanwhile the sound of the rifle would carry, and reach the ears of one confused King on a riverbank some distance away. But before the man could make a step toward it, he would see the herd of centaur galloping through the forest and across the river, paying him no more heed than they had the woman before.
 
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"AAA-aah-GGG-aaah-GGG..." Between painful gasps a struggling voice echo'd down the dark empty hall. Growing louder by the passing second and as one grew closer, its groveling owner soon exclaimed "Damn it Epaphroditos! This is no Emperor's death!" before striking the floor beneath them. This man, draped in fine purple silk and prostrated before none to see was the mighty Emperor Nero. Having been pulled to this dimension from his own he was in quite the pitiful state. A gash in his neck bleed profusely and a Gladius protruded from his gut. Growing ever warmer by the trickle of blood flowing down its blade, Nero seemed fated no longer for the realm of mortals.

But with time and as he regained his senses he became aware of his all to unfamiliar surroundings. Upon opening his eyes he inspected the hall around him before standing abruptly. All signs and sounds of pain and discomfort vanished in the face of this predicament. Coming eye to eye with a woman before him, he assumed a quizzical look as he grew erect. "Who are you!? What is this place!?" He demanded of the short woman who sported a wicked grin. Looking down at her attire Nero's eye centered on her tie before donning a scowl.

"You're with the Senate! HA. Those fools intend to make you Empress? ... I'd sooner die than Rome be so pitiful." In a blink Nero unsheathed his dagger and thrust toward his neck. Destined to hit its mark, the knife stopped short half an inch, tip glinting, moments away from piercing its owner's jugular. Staring on with visible amusement the woman chuckled as she outstretched out her hand. "Go my son. Seize Rome. She is rightfully yours." The voice cooed. And without hesitation Nero took the hand and was enveloped in a shroud of darkness.

Awakening some time later, an open field laid before him, the starry night sky overhead. "Heh. Hehehehe. Ahahahahaha. AHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!" Laughing maniacally he cast his head above, arms out wide. "... It all makes sense now... Ooohh mother. Sweet mother. It was always you, wasn't it?" Distracted momentarily from his monologue, the glow of light a few thousand pes away directed his attention elsewhere. Staring at it intently, a breeze rustled the nearby leaves and grass, muffling the hiss of whispers. Straightening at once, Nero clutched the hilt of the Gladius before wrenching it free. Mumbling, he began to stagger toward the light. "Mother.. Motherr.. Motherrrrrr... I didn't mean it. You forced me. If you just, WOULD DIE, I-I... Mother? Where are you mother. ARE YOU FLEEING TO ROME!?... The senators won't help you. Ahahaha."
 
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Doc Holliday

The gentleman gambler smiled and kneeled getting his flask out. He unfastened the cap which looks like a tiny cup. A true gentleman, he pours into Edna's tin cup first., Then pouring into his own.

" Well miss Edna., On behalf of these ignorant humans, let me apologize. I have learned life shouldn't be wasted"

@Ms.Ezra
 
Confirming no movement from the ten dead armored men, Natalya starts collecting spent shell casings, until she figure out what was going on here, these casings might be indispensable in the near future.

Ten Rounds, Ten Kills, Fifty rounds left. Picking up her casings and pocketing them into her ammunition pouch, the woman then procures ten rounds from the same pouch. Loading the weapon via the top, the bolt slams close, the SVT would be ready for action again, overall the whole process was rather quick. Staring at the lone Centaur, Natalya begins to question what was next, but for now one situation could be dealt with. Waving her left arm at the Centaur as if to get its attention while she walks closer. The movement of her left arm then changes to a deft pointed motion towards where the rest of his kind had ran. "Get out of here! Go!"

Heading for the bodies, Natalya planned to bury them while collecting any useful items from the ten.
 
Pushing his way through the grasslands, Magoichi would find himself beholding a small village. The sight confused him, the buildings themselves being much too small for any man or woman to live and as the architecture itself was foreign. Less he stumbled upon a village of children or small yokai, this didn't make any sense. "Uh..."

Pausing to contemplate, Saika's attention was grasped when a voice called out to him from a tree above. Looking up it was a—child? No, not a child. A small man. While the ronin could question what manner of being he was or what this village was, he had more important things to inquire about.

"Me? Nah... I'm not really one to go pushing others around... If yer willing to trade, I could use some information. Maybe some food too." Chuckling nervously a bit, there was the issue of money. He had but a few coins on him. "Then again, I only have a few coins on me. So if you have anything that needs taken care of in exchange..." Right now, all he could offer was work, but it was doubtful this man was in need of a mercenary, meaning it was likely that if he accepted he'd be tending to some crops or something. Not exactly something he preferred to do, but he needed food.

@Ms.Ezra
 
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