OOC: I don't have grand designs or schemes for this, I just thought it would be an interesting concept for a Final Fantasy ragtag group to FAIL at their mission. Here's hoping another ragtag group follows in their footsteps and wins where they lost...
Usual rules apply 
IC: The proud heroes lay slain upon the jagged rocks, splashed to the winds of the mountain. 12 companions brought together for a common purpose, dead on the cliff.
High above the array of lifeless corpses stood 3 battle fatigued figures encased in tattered cloaks, each weilding a unique bladed weapon.
"That was harder than I had expected" sighed the lead one, looking down the icy cliff, his face full of contempt.
"Heroes are a common pest, we should confirm the kill" suggested a serious intellectual sounding male behind him, his attention was focused on the vertical face of the mountain peak before him.
"Impalings, decapitation and a 100 foot drop onto unforgiving rock?" a female voice chuckled "If anything, we have the 10 minute we need to finish the ritual"
"Alright" said the first one, turning and striding purposely to the rockface "let's end this worthless planet once and for all"
-
There stands a huge telescope upon Orgalbe Hill, odd in design and function, it was as unique as it was uninteresting. However it was the first to notice the phenomenum in the sky. The meteor belt that surrounded the planet was forming together, piece by piece, and gravitating towards them ever so slowly.
"Hush! HUSH!" screamed Nathaneul starring into the looking glass and writing down his findings "whatever could this mean" he mused to himself, a shiver running down his spine.
-
Craig strutted through the roads leading to town square, full of pride and purpose. For 2 days he had been his own man, 17 years old and being sent on a mission of great importance and nothing could be more important to him than getting it done, but travelling across the world was a grand adventure and one which he intended to savour and enjoy, afterall until 2 nights ago he had never left the church he was raised in he had barely any idea of the geography of the tiny country village that he had spent his young years in, the outside world was an exciting mystery.
A tight brown travel cloak hung tightly around his neck and fell heavy and dull with no wind to give it any dramatics, his dirty red hair was messed and scraggy from a single night roughing it on route to the suprisingly large mountain town he was now standing in. It had been worth it, everything was so exciting, children playing with their sleds and throwing snow at eachother (such a novel idea! What mischief!) and men tending to their roofs as their wives yelled from the window.
"You..." a cracked voice wheezed from his rear, Craig spun around and spyed an old man caccooned in frayed red, using his huge sword as the only support to prevent him collapsing on the ground.
"Help me..." he managed, before letting himself crumple to the ground. Craig dashed to help and noticed red patches in the white, before he could do anything, towns people were converging and ushering the battle-damaged man into a large building. Following, Craig came to find a wooden interior full of music, people, tables, chairs, food, drink. A public house of sorts, like some of the rooms of the church, but much merrier.
"Make room! Someone get Kristen!" the man shouted, laying the wounded warrior on a table.
"Where is that girl?!"
"There's no time!"
"We're losing him!"
"Is there a healer in the house?!"
"Let me..." Craig said, pushing past and looking at the wounded man for the first time, he was most certainly a fighter, even without his sword it would be easy to tell. He summarised the wound with a brief glance, he was cut in so many places, and deeply too, whatever he was doing to recieve such injury it's a miracle he managed to survive. There was little even a master mage could do to save him, but Craig knew enough of healing to ease his passing and give him some final moments.
He pressed his hands softly onto the wounded tissue of the most crucial gash and focused in prayer, holy magic bargained deep from the heart and soul. Strong but draining magic which few could manage.
Moments passed in total silence, until the warrior let out a pained groan and stirred awake once more. "Lexseus..." he murmered, bringing a hand across his scars "can't let him get away with it"
"Hush now, feller, you'll be passin' on soon" urged a burly man who had brought him into the inn originally. People crowded closer, the tavern must have held 100 people and even the barlady had her ears glued on the scene unfolding.
The entire passing took an agonising 3 hours, of which Craig had used all of his energy futilly healing the man as he explained. He was a warrior on a quest with several companions who had all died, they were trying desperately to prevent a sect from triggering an ancient holy device set to purify the planet. He partook the quest because one of the sect members was his childhood best friend (we would have learned more, but clearly people were more interested in the doomsday stuff). The final key to triggering the chain event was in the mountain of which this town sat at the base of, once that's triggered the world would end, and though all 12 faught villiantly, the sect won in the end.
"Someone... anyone. If you have any love for this world... go to the top of the mountain. Find them and stop them if it's not too late"
He was a brave man to have soldiered on long enough to pass what little information he gave. The tavern errupted into discussion and shouting as soon as the man let go of his final breath. Craig shrunk, still glued to the warrior's side. His grand adventure had taken a rather disturbing start...
OOC: Well, I've been meaning to get back into the guild so, why not start here. Crims is the same as usual, only less...ya know, fuzzy.
IC:
Crimson stared into his tankard of ale as the wounded man breathed his last, allowing a moments silence out of respect for the recently deceased. It was also ample time to mull over his thoughts on the brave warriors chosen last words.
Somebody obviously had to do something about the sect now that the man could not. He sctratched at his vibrant red goatee as he sought answers in the head of his drink. Was it fate that had brought the man to this tavern? Or was it that solid looking gent? Either way, he had to be here for a reason.
Replacements! That was it, surely someone had to stop the sect, and where else would a dying man gather a band of elite specialised warriors than the local pub? That had to be it. Draining the rest of his tankard, Crimson's fairly addled brain came to the only responce it could.
He's here for me!
He slammed the pewter vessel down hard on the table, and stood to his feet, his long fur cloak billowing with the speed of his sudden, and unsteady rise. Without consulting the working parts of his brain, before he knew it, his mouth was acting...
"I'LL DO TIT!...It, yes.. I'll do it! Who's with me!?"
A man in a brown cloak sat at the table, his glass of rum idly sitting between his hands. "I suppose I am," said Cy from under his hood, standing up and picking up his scythe from where he had it leaning against the wall, "only folls and idiots try to destroy worlds."
OOC: Enter Rico, the... preist?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The door creaked open, it wasn't heard over the uproar. But anyone that happened to turn in the direction of the tavern entrance did not look away, the sight of a clergyman in a tavern was not an everyday sight.
A few eyes followed his careful and light steps over to the fallen man and the young man by his side. A metallic thud hit Craig's ears as the end of a steel staff hit the tavern floor beside him. A man knelt next to the corpse, his attire made him stand out in the crowd. A brillant royal blue and white robe seemed to make the reddish short bob of a ponytail he wore his hair in stand out all the more. His green eyes had a look of empathy about them as he looked at the man. "Did he suffer?" The words were quiet and uncertain, but Craig felt as if they were directed at him.
Fast as anything the tavern was aflame with debate and men pushing force candidates.
"Can ye carry a weapon?!"
"You've been up da m'unten! Ye can guide!"
"I have to stay with my family..."
As soon as Crims had openned his mouth he found himself budged and nudged towards the epicentre of the uproar in the rough manner which dared to suggest that it was unimportant if the tankard was full upon reaching the end of the shove. Likewise, no less than six people turned and started thanking or demanding of the brown cloaked man, it was hard to tell over all the noise, but by speaking up he was certainly one to push out the door and save their lazy butts.
"Hysterical whingebags" sighed the unamused bar lady.
Meanwhile at the table of trouble, Craig shock his head simply and said in slow and unsure words "No, I helped his passing, but it was unpreventable. He suffered too greatly before reaching us, there was nothing that could have been done."
OOC:
Enter my characters. Vic here, for those unfamiliar with this alt. 
Tell me if anything's wrong.
IC:
A blonde remained in her seat as the commotion was on, looking only to her companion, who nodded when someone yelled at the top of his lungs that he would stop the villains.
She fondled the object attached to her necklace, which shone a deep indigo. It was a memento from her mother, and her mother told her never to use it unless absolutely neccesary. However, she had never been told how to use it!
When the time comes, you will naturally know how to use it. Yes, that was what she said.
She stood, adjusting her dark green cape as she stood up. She tugged at the fur collar of her green clothes - all the edges had white fur on them, with the occasional black hair painfully obvious.
She straightened her skirt, and walked over to the clergyman, the youngster and the body.
"We're coming along, if you're going to stop them," she said, pointing to her blue-haired friend. She looked through the corner of her eyes, and they were momentarily fixed on a symbol branded into his skin around his left eye. What did it stand for? She mentally shrugged, and awaited a response of some sort as the blue-haired fellow stood silent. "My name is Lucia, and he is only known as Jikuu."
The cleric smirked, "Well its my duty to save souls from darkness. If thats what this is about then it doesn't look like I have much say in the matter."
The jostling crowd's responce was music to Crimson's ears, and pain to his toes. Out of the corner of his eye he saw that a small gathering was forming to talk around the young man who had helped the poor departed soul so much. But he paid it no heed, surely this was a time for warriors, not healers!
The brown cloaked volunteer however, a perfect companion, Crims thought, I should go introduce myself. He began to push his way through the mass of people, but before he got too far, he was presented with a dilemma...
Now which way was the latrine?
Outside of the Tavern, two figures slowly approached. "Perhaps here would be alright to stop by at, eh? Figure what to do after our dilenma.. later. Right?" one of the figures said to the other. The other nodded in conjunction and they entered the building. They had done so before the man; the "passing" even began. Far from it, the two had discussed what they would do after they left after what happened in their past few weeks on the road. They both had red-colored hair, and the taller one was obviousily the eldest. Looking around 28, the other around 17. Then the events unfolded, including the warrior's passing. It was quite interesting, to say the least. The man's story.
"The world needs help, and perhaps this is a sign we need." the younger figure told to the elder figure. THey nodded in conjunction, and stood up and approached the 'group' per ce.
"I suppose we will accompany you as well." the older one said to them. "My name is Hiro, and this is my companion and brother- Marth."
OOC:
There's always a mysterious man that you meet several times in suspicious places before he joins your party.
IC:
Jonathan Kasra. A man of few words. We twirled a butterfly knife around absentmindedly, watching the activity. Hm, yes, things like this had to happen. It was the usual sequence of events, wasn't it? He took a second butterfly knife out and spun and slashed the air with them both while sitting lazily. They were a doomed effort unless they had the right help.
He almost dropped a knife but caught it, shut it, and tucked it away before anyone could notice. He stood up from his chair and took a closer look at the others, and anyone assed enough to pay attention got a look at him. He wore simple clothes of a commoner but had a vest on top of them with many different knives tucked away in dovens of pockets. A blade for every situation was his motto. The man himself was a deeply tanned caucasion with blondish white hair and a thick handlebar moustache. Lines of age crossed his face here and there but he was still in peak physical condition, blood vessels occaisonally being seen through his skin, nestled just under the surface. He as an imposing figure of solid skills and mind, but this was not his place. Just as he was first noticed, he was gone out the front door and vanished into an alleyway.
It was not the last time he would be seen.
OOC: Alrighty. Wraith sent me a PM to introduce his character so I'm starting a side-quest first 
IC: "ALRIGHT! ALRIGHT! CALM DOWN!" came a booming voice through the crowd, the noise and calamity across the room ceased to allow a large balding man who made up for his lack of head hair with a mighty stubble, his right eye seemed to bulge and twitch compared to his left, tailing him was a lanky and thin man who hunched as he walked and looked rather nervous about the place.
The beefier man took the centre of the room, the crowds gravitated back to their chairs leaving only those who had stepped forward by their own choice or by circumstance.
"Alright" he said, his eye glaring over at the table where the hero lay and the priests standing beside him, the smaller looking bewildered, "If Grimm is dead, then you're damn sure there's trouble a'brewin'" he growled to the room, pivotting around to meet all faces and eyes "and if ye think ye can do more then him then you're either bloody brave, bloody strong or bloody stupid!"
He raised a hand which held a shot glass of whisky and waved over the pair in the corner, and then everyone else until they all got the message to gather around.
"I'd be a pretty lowsy Sheriff to let another bunch of kids run off to die" he narrowed his eyes so that they actually looked even and directed them over the unfortunate volenteers "If yer thinking of climbing up the mountain, ye better be sure ye've got it in ya. On the way up is a forest, bunch of villagers have seen a strong monster lurking in the woods. Manage to take that on, and then ye can try yer world saving suicide"
The man behind him spoke up meekly "But, Wedge, what about the se-"
"SHUT UP KID!" he roared, elbowing him in the ribs "Dya want to throw people to the lions because yer too scared to do anythin' yerself?! Ye don't understand anything!"
"Sorry Sheriff" the deputy replied, shrinking a bit more "I didn't mean no disrespect..."
"Then don't say anythin' at all!" he growled, turning back to the group "Now! If yer serious about all dis, den make your butts to the Evergreen Woods at the base of the mountain and find dat monster
The red haired cleric remained silent, a sad look on his face.
"We'll do it," said the blonde.
"Lucia," came a booming voice from behind her as she said it. She almost jumped, but turned around and found to her relief that it was her friend Jikuu. "It's dangerous."
She nodded, and he studied the resolve in her eyes, as she rested her left hand on her sword, attached to a belt at her waist. "KISHIN" was inscribed on the handle, and there was a depression in part of the hilt that was shaped exactly like her pendant.
"We can do it."
"Ye're all insane, kids!"
"We're not - we can handle this," she snapped, looking at the cleric, who had said nothing so far. What was there to think about? As long as he could help, shouldn't he try? And what was with his expression?
"We'll go," Jikuu reassured the man, and proceeded to pat Lucia on the head. She was at least a head shorter than he! "We'll never know if we can do it unless we try."
Hiro nodded. "I agree. We are definitally capable, by the looks of things."
Marth nodded at his brother. "Destiny has a funny way of working." he chuckled.
"Indeed."
OOC: Again, appologies for the impersonal post, I'm just trying to get things rolling now we have an immediate group, as Wedge says, we'll recruit more on the way. Appologies for the rushing, it'll slow down in pace once we hit the forest.
IC: Sheriff Wedge shot them a toothy grin, showing off his horrible excuse for dental hygeine telling a thousand stories of wasted nights with a bottle of brandy.
"Alright" he chuckled, waving his hand in the same fashion as before "Yer a gutsie bunch, ain't no mistake" he laughed "Best ye be on yer way befur the town starts a riot" he turned around and roared out something in another language, after a few moments a head popped above the row of lowered heads, it barked back in the same dialect, though it was clear to be a female voice, even if it carried the same rumble of the male.
She stormed over, a burly lass to be sure, clothed in heavy clothes of a green hue which emphasised the fact she was local to this freezing mountain town (and had eccentric tastes in colour), "Aye pa?! Ye dunnae ne' ta shout!" she barked, angrily "Iam r'eet here!"
Wedge shoved her towards the group so suddenly she almost buckled and fell to the floor "Dis here is my daughter, Cassie, she'll be yer guide, so ye don't have ta worry none about getting lost"
"Wotcha talkin'boot offerin' me up without queerying whats I reckon!" Cassie growled at her father "I'll be decidin' wether I want ta be lollying arund with a scraggy band of misfit outcasts!" she raised herself up and for a moment looked impressive against her burly old man, before he pulled the same trick to tower once more over her.
"Ye be doin' as ye told ya wench and be greatful I dunnae kick ye out on yer tosh!"
The arguing esculated and returned to the forum dialect, several of the bar patrons shrank further, for fear a full scale fight would break loose there and then. The bar maid looked vaguely amused, still polishing a glass as all idle bar maids are expected to do, Deputy Biggs meanwhile has made a hasty retreat to the rear of Cassie and was making appologetic faces to his boss.
Eventually the arguement ceased with Cassie storming off, yelling "Ye best be ready in a score or I'll be pluggin' ye all for wolf bait!"
Wedge grinned "That means she'd be delighted ta help, she knows her way and she's pretty good with her dark spells and firearms, she'd not be slowin' ye down in a hurry, plus she had a thing for yer hero down there" he gestured at the corpse "she'd likely stick with ya until whichever scummy bastard offed him has been chewed to the bone by wurms and m'ggots"
"Sir, please. Why are you rushing us out of the door like this?" said the young cleric who had eased the hero Grimm's passing "If the danger is as bad as this man predicted, shouldn't we amass a larger force?"
"If ye dunna wanna go, ye dunna have ta!" barked Wedge, taking his remark as cowardice.
"No, no" said Craig, waving his hands from side to side "It's fate that brought me here and I must follow this path through, I've no reservations of proceeding this mission, for I am on one of my own, but I must ask first why you're in such a hurry?"
"Well, wee man, ders a problem with law and order ya see" he kept his voice down, so only those in his direct vacinity could hear "When da public start panicking, ders little to be done but either put them in the ground or let the town go up in flames. Nip it at the bud, dats what I say! If ye need more help ye can recruit it on yer own, but right now I needs to keep these people from killing themselves in fear, ye understand, right?"
"Not particularly..." Craig tried to reply, but was caught off with a roaring laugh from Wedge.
"We'll see ye when ye get back! Have a fun trip, if ye dunnae know eachother yet ye can introduce eachother on the road" he began ushering the entire group out of the door, whispering "I'll take care of the burial, dunnae ye worry about dat either" before slamming the door.
It took about 5 seconds of the party standing outside of the door before the music and life resumed within. For better or worse, they had been selected for this mission and had precious little information or drive, not to mention every single one of them had a group of strangers by their sides.
"Alrite ya pansies!" spat Cassie, who had been preparing while they were inside "Lets get yer names and why I should bother tryin' ta save yer wee buttocks when a monstur is tryin' ta rip of yer nadgers! I ain't got no time fer time wasters, so ye better be armed and ready"
The red haired man shook his head, most of him didn't want to be out fighting strange animals but this was a time for following his heart. He'd been following only that for the past few years now. Still wearing the garments of a cleric even though he'd left the faith.
"Are you questioning the Gods' will?" A voice questioning non-threateningly. He heard himself answer, "No. I know that they are wrong on this." The other voice belonged to an older man in extravagent robes he sighed, "I suppose everyone has a questioning time while growing up, its unfortunate yours is so late. Leave if you think you must, but do not be afraid to return."
That small conversation had changed his life. Suddenly he was questioning everything he'd believed so effortlessly as a boy. What fate had in store for him was something even he hadn't believed.
"Is yelling really necessary? I've less yowling out of exorcisms," He fired off at Cassie's incessantly colorful tyraiding.
"Nae need but fer comfort" she replied in a more restrained volume, clipping her shotgun to her belt and leaning against a lamppost "I like me loud noises, reminds me of home befur pa up and jerked us away pretty as ye please. But now I'm on a mere acceptable volume fer ya, would ye kindly be answerin' me question?"
The man nodded. He was well spoken, his tone didn't suggest malice or threat, and he seemed very diplomatic in both manner and appearance, "By birth I am Richard Maximilian, son of Father Russell Underwood. I am Rico'Ki of the Kyzarie Monastery and have no way to prove my worth. We are taught to protect, not to fight."
"Aye, well, ye know dis be no daytrip in the park, even withoot da whole save the world cack, what aboot your wee partner there ey? He got a name?"
Craig gave her a look of upmost contempt "None to give to a dark mage, that's for sure" he said, folding his arms and studying her like a woman would study a dead spider.
"Sod ye then ya wee turd, I ain't babysittin' no holier than thou ignorant waste, if ye call fer help you'd better hope any of these misfits be heedin' ya, cos I've no sympathy for ye"
"Sounds like you're familiar with people seeing your darkened soul for what it is, I pray you find the error of your ways sooner than later"
"I ain't got nuthin' else ta see to ye. Anyone else wanna add to the meet and greet or ye gonna be judgin' me eternal soul all day?"
She caught a momentary flicker of something in the self-described monk's eyes. Something very "not-diplomatic", had it lasted longer than a moment it might have set her on edge. But the look was so fleeting she couldn't be sure if it hadn't been a trick of the light.
"Books should not be judged on their cover." Craig heard the utterance as an afterthought and it took a moment to connection the voice to Rico. The meaning took a little longer.
Lucia and Jikuu stood, simply looking on throughout the verbal exchange. Lucia shrugged, looking at Jikuu. Her ponytail swept his nose, tickling it, but he made no response. His face was still as wooden as ever.
"I'm Lucia," she declared once more. "I'm proficient with this sword, but I can fight with my bare hands, too."
She looked at Jikuu, her eyes cueing him to speak, but he simply stood there without saying a word. She lowered her head, momentarily before she lifted it again to introduce him.
"He's Jikuu. He doesn't talk much, as you can see, but he takes good care of me. You could call him a jack of all trades, but he's well-versed in magic of all elements. He has yet to perfect his mastery of magic, though."
She received an icy look from Jikuu and scratched her head, sheepishly grinning. He closed his eyes, shook his head and sighed barely audibly.
She shivered slightly. The freezing temperatures were nearly unbearable! Her clothes covered her torso, but her shins and parts of her thighs were exposed; her boots didn't reach that high, and her skirt and shorts were rather... short.
How did Jikuu survive in this kind of weather? He wasn't wearing much to protect him from the cold. All he had on was a white shirt, white trousers, a belt, a pair of boots and a white trench-coat with strange patterns on the collar, which stood upright.
She almost burst out laughing at the thought of him utilising magic to keep himself warm, as if he was some kind of animal with a special homeostasis mechanism. She mentally shruggged, and looked around at everyone else. A ragtag group indeed...
"Aye, well ye two look like a good pair, ye take care of eachother and we'll take care of ye. I reckons we'll get along just fine" she nodded to Lucia with the nearest thing to a smile she had given since the party encountered her and even that looked like a scowl. "Hows about ye two?" she asked nodding at Crims and the brown cloaked man "Much as I like the silent types, ain't no much room fer a team 'oo dunnae know eachothers names"
OOC: Sorry I havn't been around the past few days, was busy, but, *delves back in*
IC:
Crimson grinned heartily, a combination of his long shaggy red-brown fur cloak, and the leftover affects of the tarvens..."hospitality" Keeping him warm.
"My name is Darkwolfe, I'm a traveller really, an odd-job man, doing a little bit here, a little bit there, then meeving..moving on.
"I'm self-trained with me halberd here, but what really makes the difference in a fight, isn't the weapon, it's technique! And since I took up blue magic, oh..." A frown creased his brow as he tried to remember "Three weeks ago, I'm all about technique!"
...and in the back of his head, a little voice said; How many times have I told you. Stop taking jobs while drinking, and never take jobs from dead people...
