"Ehehe."

The high pitch of her voice has always led people to thinking she's a (perhaps lost) child, especially coupled with her general appearance. The giggle she let out as she thought of the perfect question to ask her two comrades(?) would remind someone of a happy little girl. ...But now is not the time to hint at her reasons for coming to the Shadow Isles.

Elysia decided she would just cut straight to the point with Takuma. Since the Flame-Head is stuck with him whether she likes it or not, it wouldn't hurt to ask another question instead. She couldn't help but notice one thing, and felt a little stupid for not taking particular note of it when she was making her silent examination.

"Takuma-sshi," she began, adding an old honorific to his name, "you seem quite calm, even knowing that you stand upon the Shadow Isles, the origin point of figures like Hecarim."

Elysia sits down after stating the obvious. "Could it be that you see a reward greater than what Darkeye and Noxus are offering?"

((Twitch I'm completely confused by your post, but I assume that you, or you and hec want in on this? If so, and you RP seriously, go to the sign up thread. All must take the same steps to join this Rp, good rat, sir!))

Outside gate of Darkeye Manor

As the gathered Champion, and mercenaries speak to one another on the outsides of the Manor, on road to the docks - the gate begins to open with a load screech. First, a barred gate, pure steel, creaks and raises. Followed, by an even larger solid wood door of pale white color, and a black eye in the middle, parts. As it does, the overwhelming sense of dread persists, washing over the gathered warriors by an unseen wind originating from the manor gate.

As their vision permits, they behold perhaps the biggest man any had ever seen. Over seven feet tall, close to five hundred pounds; shirtless, with massive metallic gauntlets on either hand, black greaves with a blue sash covering his waists, and a black hood and mask. The giant groans before he steps toward them in monstrous, hulking strides - his intimidating visage would have perhaps told them he was going to rip them apart. But, he stops just before the first of the mercenaries.

"Aguma Wasa Fulnos, Protector of the Gates of Darkeye Manors. State your business, friends or foe?" The giant masked mans voice was deep and booming, even over the sound of the gates still opening further. Behind the giant, a small group of soldiers with tall spears, tower shields, clad in black and silver armor, approach, silently. They stop at the barred gate, without a word.

"If you," He then looks at Karthus, "or even you, mighty Undead mage, have come to claim the head of Darkeye or his people harm. You will find your fate abruptly severed, as well as your head from your shoulders. Now, speak!"

"Eh? 'Suits you,' Takuma-sshi?" Elysia muttered these words. It wasn't likely that Takuma heard her at all, at least not clearly, nor did she intend him to. Being tiny has the advantage of being difficult to hear when you don't want somebody taller to hear you. Sometimes.

Quote:

Originally Posted by Luparis Outside gate of Darkeye Manor As the gathered Champion, and mercenaries speak to one another on the outsides of the Manor, on road to the docks - the gate begins to open with a load screech. First, a barred gate, pure steel, creaks and raises. Followed, by an even larger solid wood door of pale white color, and a black eye in the middle, parts. As it does, the overwhelming sense of dread persists, washing over the gathered warriors by an unseen wind originating from the manor gate. As their vision permits, they behold perhaps the biggest man any had ever seen. Over seven feet tall, close to five hundred pounds; shirtless, with massive metallic gauntlets on either hand, black greaves with a blue sash covering his waists, and a black hood and mask. The giant groans before he steps toward them in monstrous, hulking strides - his intimidating visage would have perhaps told them he was going to rip them apart. But, he stops just before the first of the mercenaries. "Aguma Wasa Fulnos, Protector of the Gates of Darkeye Manors. State your business, friends or foe?" The giant masked mans voice was deep and booming, even over the sound of the gates still opening further. Behind the giant, a small group of soldiers with tall spears, tower shields, clad in black and silver armor, approach, silently. They stop at the barred gate, without a word. "If you," He then looks at Karthus, "or even you, mighty Undead mage, have come to claim the head of Darkeye or his people harm. You will find your fate abruptly severed, as well as your head from your shoulders. Now, speak!"

((Sorry I'm late, my 'available hours' are kind of odd))
Cruciatus's rag-tag boat arrives at the Isles. He manages to step out without losing his balance, and sees that he is late. He slides (hopefully) quietly behind the group of mercenaries.

Lizzie lands on the coastline in a small row boat, her ship refusing to come too close to the Isles. With a light bump onto the sandy beach she had formally reached land, and disembarked. Hefting her bag onto her back and following the road towards the Darkeye Manor. She looked about and immediately sensed a dread in the air, perhaps lingering effects of the curse that changed the Isles forever.

She now understood why having the family sword was important. Its enchantments carried with it the safety and security of the manor- no, the family with it, the lady able to continue walking. Lizzie was no mage like her parents, and surmised the sword to be the only thing keeping her from panicking.

The manor and the gathered figures came into view before long, the journalist-turned mercenary feeling watchful eyes and eerie silence coming from the dark woods. She also spotted the gathered company there- a summoner, a mercenary... and Karthus. Well, this was definitely interesting. Her dad always said that the champions from the shadow isles were the most guarded of their thoughts and motives.

She eventually makes herself known once the manor guard and shares her answer to his question.

“...I’m just a sword arm looking for cash, and taking in the view. Thugs or monsters, I’ll be glad to beat them down and save the mages some mana.” No need to go into the complicated family business, as she crossed her arms. Simple answers were best.


“And, hello to the rest of you. Name’s Lizzie, if you need to call me something.” She looked to and from the other people present, crossing her arms. No, didn’t look like anyone would recognize her in her armor. Summoners and and a few champions though, would probably recognize the Wong family crest of her sheathe, since she was the daughter of a summoner.

Discreetly, Lizzie began taking pictures of the area about the manor with her hex glasses. She only just developed the nerve to begin recording her journey.

The Flame-Head yordle looked up at the face of "Lizzie," then her sheath, then her again, this time with an expression betraying a blend of confusion and great disappointment. She carried herself pretty high for a "sword arm," and she barely recognized the crest on the sheath of her blade as being one from an Ionian house, specifically Wong Fuhai's. Elysia is, yordle or not, "one of those Ionians" whose knowledge is almost entirely limited to magic, philosophy, and events both current and past (if limited to Ionian and global affairs), and this just happens to be one of the things she knows.

Perhaps it isn't so strange to see the grand-daughter of a warlord becoming a mercenary (maybe this kind of lifestyle runs in the family?), but this woman already has everything she needs to make an honest living - if her media presence, coupled with the fact that the "Zamara" line even has a small presence in Zaun of all places, could be considered evidence to that fact. What in the hell is she doing on the Shadow Isles?

"A pleasure, Lizzie... Wong-sshi," Elysia greets in a flat, if perpetually high-pitched, tone. "Elysia, summoner of Ionia, welcomes you to this... lovely resort."

As if the sarcasm wasn't obvious enough, Elysia's tone takes a doubtful tone towards the end of that last sentence.

Another Ionian summoner? Lizzie barely recognized the tiny yordle. Probably one of the summoners she didn't know.

"Eehh yeah, right, thanks." She scratches her face. She was still wearing the mask with glasses, so she didn't expect anyone to know who she was so soon. She knelt in front of the yordle summoner, seeing her eye-to-eye as a courtesy. "Didn't think I'd be known outside of a few minor stories I did for the Institute... Well, Regardless I'm here now as a fighter, and I'll hope you'll have my back when fight time rolls around."

Cruciatus glanced at the new arrival, noting the magical aura surrounding the sword. His eyes focused on an unfamiliar crest situated on the sheath of the blade.

He raised his brow. How strange, to be seeing royalty in a place such as this.