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[center][IMG]http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y66/purgatorybellhop/Junk/Iscariotbanner.jpg[/IMG]

[color=darkslategray][font=franklin gothic medium][i]"And though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil..."[/i][/center]


[center].:History:.[/center]

In the bible, there is mention of a man by the name of Judas Iscariot, son of Simon. He was the thirteenth holy apostle and the betrayer of his devine master, Jesus Christ. Commiting such a crime, he was delivered divine justice and repented with death. His name was not looked upon with simple pleasantries, and it carried a heavy burden upon all those who lived beneith it.

Within the Vatican are the twelve branches of the apostles, each one serving the pope to the best of their abilities. But there is a thirteenth branch, and its purpose is carrying out the strenous deeds in repentance for the name Judas Iscariot. The section operates in secrecy, for the missions that they carry out in the name of the catholic church are of the darkest matter.

Heretics, Pagans, Monsters, Demons, all are dealt with and erased by Section Thirteen. The acts of murder and death rest upon their souls as they eradicate and save others from the firey pits of hell. In the name of God, Amen.


[center].:Stories:.[/center]

The earliest recorded actions of Iscariot were dated to occur in the mid fifteenth century. Monks and friars were keen to document the branches' findings and excursions. Although the operations were performed with the utmost secrecy, the documentation was to be used to educate rising members within the order.

The first records were of a few particular men and women of the cloth, who broke social standards and expectations to carry out their duties. Although they were labled as God's warriors, they appeared to be nothing more than average men and women from all corners of Europe with a determination to please their lord. We cannot determine that this is the case however, as there were only five lines of scripture that best described the preists and nuns of Iscariot.

The following were all the collected findings.

? Father Pietro Romano of Verona. 24 years of age before Service. Student of the noble fencing blade.

? Sister Carmita Arroyo of Madrid. 28 years of age before Service. Student of the theif's thrown blade.

? Father Josef Schmid of Frankfurt. 32 years of age before Service. Student of the warrior's Axe.

? Sister Maree Bedeau of Toulouse. 19 years of age before Service. Student of the guard's Spear.

? Father Osric Mason of Canterbury. 22 years of age before Service. Student of the knight's blade.

What can be gathered from these five agents is their heritage of land, how old they were when they began their terms in Iscariot and what skills they used. It is a common belief that some form of pagan witchery or magic was used to the benefit of the catholic church. While this belief is held in high standards amongst other circles, it is known that the use of such 'power' was forbidden and looked down upon within such an organization. As far as it can be determined, the early Nuns and Priests were fond of blades treated by holy water that would wound as well as bless those being attacked. Wether or not they worked on pagans was unknown, but it was well known to inflict harm on the wicked beasts of the devil.

When the five discontinued their services or died remains unknown, while documentation continues to be discovered to this day.[/color][/font]

[font=franklin gothic medium][color=black][center].:Greetings:.[/center]

Hello and welcome to Iscariot Section XIII: Renaissance. If you've gotten this far, then I'd like to congratulate you (Yes, I know the above reads like a show from the discovery channel) and give you a little back info on this Rpg.

Before I get any PMs, yes, I did borrow the Theme from Hellsing. No, Alucard, Maxwell or any of the other characters will be making an appearance. This Rpg, follows the basic idea of Iscariot and elaborates on its past in the fifteenth century.

This Rpg will be in Chapters and be managed through an underground thread to keep it orderly.

[center].:Rules:.[/center]

Yeah, all Rpgs have them, this one isn't any different. Below are a list of rules that when followed allows a good time for everyone.


Godmodding: Some people don't mind this, others do. Do not use anyone's characters without their permission first. Not abiding by this rule causes confusion and sometimes frustration.

Sex: There will be [b]NO[/b] sex between the characters. I repeat, [b]NO SEX[/b]. These are Priests and Nuns we're talking about here, they lead chaste lives and most likely will not be straying from that path. Do [b]NOT[/b] test my patience in that area. I have also left very little opertunity to include smut within this Rpg. If you're looking for cheap thrills through text, you're not going to find any here. Sorry.

Language: I have allowed there to be cussing within the Rpg. Yes the Nuns and Priests are human and yes they do have slip ups, but having your character cussing like a sailor is not acceptable. NPCs can cuss all they like.

Violence: I expect that this Rpg will have very heavy violence laced within it. It includes but is not limited to, blood, gore, death, torture, disease and anything else your sick little minds can fathom. I'm sure you all have a pretty good handle on what you can and cannot write on the OB.

Posting: I don't expect you to post novels each time you decide to write, nor do I expect you to make this a daily dedication. But it would be nice to make an attempt with each post you do. Remember, you're telling a story and a two sentence post every three weeks isn't telling much.

Characterization: Please, please, please, [b]STAY IN CHARACTER[/b]. I cannot stress this enough. Your character is not God, they do not weild magic, they are not almighty and they are not impervious to harm. This can sometimes grate on the other player's nerves and can cause a lot of tension. Keep this in mind when you are writting your signup. Besides, if you could kill everything with one strike, what fun would that be?

[center].:Sign Up:.[/center]

Still with me? These are the signups. Above are the five characters for use. Their names, age, national heritage and weapons preferences are to stay the same through your signup. What's left, such as their background, appearance, chatacteristics and anything else I forgot to mention is entirely left for you to choose.

This isn't first come first serve. I'll be looking for good post quality, where grammar and spelling is important.

Name:

Age:

Gender:

Appearance: Description please. You may add an image to your description if you can manage.

Personality: How they act. How they react to certain surroundings. How they act towards others ect.

Weapon: Each member has their own weapon category, specifics can be added here. No images please.

History/Background: This is entirely up to you. Tell your character's story up until they joined Iscariot. A few notes, your characters will have been within the church for some time. Iscariot chooses its members, not the other way around. Please don't make them decide on a whim that they wanted to be a Priest/Nun and joined the church.

Snippet: I want to see how your writting style is. So all I ask is a short sample of your writting while in character.

Additional information: Anything I forgot to mention that you feel that you would like to add goes here.

And that would be it kiddies! If I forgot anything, you have any questions or your have any requests, please feel free to PM me. I will keep the Signups open for one week.
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[COLOR=DarkSlateGray][SIZE=1][CENTER]Name: Father Josef Schmid

Age: 32

Gender: Male[/CENTER]

[CENTER]Appearance: [B][URL=http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y158/IceSton2/josef.jpg]Josef[/URL][/B]
With white hair pulled back into a pony tail...golden eyes and earrings on both sides...he doesn't look his age...but much older. Standing at about 6' foot 4'', Josef looks like a behemoth...someone who should be in a arena...not a church.

Personality:
Josef is like a big teddy bear. Despite his tough exterior, Josef acts like a father and mentor to everyone around him, always staying calm and level headed in all situations that God has put him in with a sense of humor. His loyalty and devotion to the Lord, his faith, church and friends is unflinching. When performing the duties of the Iscariot...Josef has an intensity and power in his weapon that it suddenly turns into a fluent motion; controlled strength and force which he practices in his everyday living and battle techniques.

Weapon: [/CENTER]
[B]Imperial Double Edged Battle Axe[/B]- forged completely in stainless steel, this 40 inch long pole which is tightly wrapped in steel wiring for it's hand grips for optimal handling in any circumstance. The rest of the steel bar is wrapped in a black leather. The head of the double edged battle axe is 8 X 8 inches with a pointed head...giving it the ability of a trident for jabbing.

[B]Imperial Battle Axe[/B]- two more battle axes are strapped to Josef's waist which can be easily lifted from it's placement. The axe is made in the same manor as the double edge except with a single blade...and a significantly smaller size of 21 inches in length.

[CENTER]History/Background:
From an early age...all Josef knew was the life of a slave. Working for a local blacksmith in a deserted town near the edge of German territory, he and his family led not their own lives. At the age of twelve, Josef had already grown to the size of an adult due to his work load. Being branded with golden earring on both ears...he was shamed upon everyone else in the town...for slaves back then were looked down upon without pitty.

On one windy evening during the first snowfall...Josef and his mama and papa snuggled together to get warm in their little hut. With his mother on his left...and his father on the right, he embraced them with as much love and warmth as he could. The next morning, Josef awoke to find his parents frozen to death...their grasp upon his forearms still held firm. Their faces were calm and peaceful as Josef tried to rise to his feet.

He did not cry...he simply carried them outside into the cold and barried them with his bare hands.

When his job was done...he simply found no reason to live in this place any longer and fled from his master. There were moments where the masters servants almost caught him and brought him back to that place...but Josef fought his way through and killed many.

Finally he found himself in a large city unknown to him. Fleeing his persuers...he came across a church. The cathedral was enormous, stretching so high it seemed to touch the heavens. Running through its massive doors, Josef hid among the pews as his enemies came through the doors searching for him.

Breathing heavily...the persuers were only a few yards away when a priest of the church came up form behind them and attacked them with such power and persistance with a mere staff that the men fled from the church.

Scared and tired from his running, the priest knelt next to him and simply placed a hand on his shoulder and said these words...words that would echo in his mind forever.
[B]
"Ich gebe Ihnen Freistätte in diesem Haus von Gott meinem lieben Kind. Befürchten Sie, für Sie sind sicher jetzt nicht."[/B]

[I]I give you sanctuary in this house of God my dear child. Do not fear, for you are safe now. [/I]

From that day on...Josef became the priests pupil. Still a servant...he found a new sense of purpose in life. After calling the priest merely as 'master' for 2 years...Josef finally was told the priests name. He was known as Father Micah...the head of the churchs order in that area.

As the years past, Josef learned more and more from his new mentor. They soon became friends...helping Josef to finally open himself up and cry because of his parents death...opening a part of his being that had was barried underneath the icy snow of his soul since that day. Finally, after the transition, Josef was accepted into the order as a newly found priest.

At the age of 28...his father and mentor died due to an unknown disease that was spreading through the area. That same day...men and women whom he had never seen before surrounded him in the temple of God and gave him a piece of paper. Those words that were written changed his purpose once again...

Now...at the age of 32...Josef has taken his former masters position in Germany...and continues his secret oath to the Iscariot. Never forgetting his friends teachings and training. Still keeping his golden earrings in his ears...despite the disapproval of the other high priests, Josef keeps them as a reminder of his past...to never forget nor take for granted the blessings which God has given him.

[B]"Kennen, wo Sie von kommen, ist, genauso wie wichtig als wissend, wo Sie gehen."[/B]

[I]Knowing where you come from, is just as important as knowing where you are going.[/I]


Snippet:
[B]"Unser Vater in Himmel, der vergöttert wird, ist Ihr Name, kommt Ihr Königreich, wird Ihres gemacht werden, auf Erden als es in Himmel ist. Geben Sie uns diesen Tag unser tägliches Brot. Vergeben Sie uns unsere Schulden, als wir unsere Schuldner vergeben haben. Führen Sie uns nicht in tempation, aber liefern Sie uns vom Übel Ein."[/B]

The lords prayer seemed to flow through his entire being as he knelt down to the alter.

[I]Cleanse my soul of any impurities Lord as I extend your weapon to bring down your enemies. It is not I who lives but Christ you lives through me. You are my strength...my hope...my will. Thank you for your neverending love and blessings...for you are forever faithful. [/I]

The other priests and nuns underneath him watched in amazement as they witnessed their leader pour himself out to God.

Finally lifting himself off the ground after hours of prayer...Father Josef walked to his chambers and walked out amongst the town, mingling with all that came across his path...unaware of the weapon God had placed him with.
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[center][size=1]Name: Father Osric Mason[/size]

[size=1]Age: 22[/size]

[size=1]Appearance:
Father Mason is a lithe, nimble man, whose wiry build disguises admirable physical strength. Whilst not a golem of strength, Father Mason has enough to wield his longsword with great ferocity. However, at a little over 6 foot tall, many people underestimate him as a warrior for God.[/size]

[size=1]His eyes are brown, of a darkness that they are often mistaken to be black, but in the darkness there is a kindness that glows through. Over his left eye there is a small scar, barely noticeable at times. His hair is shoulder-length, and of a muddy brown colour, and he has a rough, stubbly beard over his chin. His skin is pale, as he tends to shy away from bright sunlight.[/size]

[size=1]His clothes are made up of a tunic of rough black material, and trousers made from the same black material. His boots are thick, black leather, as are his gloves. When he is moving from place to place, he wears a long black travelling coat.[/size]

[size=1]On the index finger of his right hand, he wears a plain silver ring, with no special engravings of any kind, and around his neck he wears a silver crucifix on a long silver chain, to remind himself of his duty to serve the Lord.[/size]

[size=1]Personality:
Osric is, and always has been, a devoted member of the clergy. The strength of his faith is almost unmatched throughout the church, and his skill with a sword is definitely so. He is kindly to those who respect the Lord, even if they do not follow his teachings as devoutly as he does, but to heretics and pagans he is without mercy. However, whenever he is called on to kill in the name of the Lord, he does do, but then prays for forgiveness afterwards.[/size]

[size=1]Weapon:
[b]Longsword-[/b]This 44 inch long blade is made entirely from steel, and is extremely well cared-for by Father Mason. As it is his only weapon, he makes sure to clean it after every use. The hilt is easily large enough for two hands, and wrapped in a black leather thong. The weapon hangs from Father Mason's side at all times.

History/Background:
Osric Mason was brought up by a priest in a small village in York, and as such he was a very religious child. Both of his parents were devout Catholics, and Osric and his mother attended church every Sunday, come Hell or high water. No matter if the child was sick, he would still attend Mass.

He grew up perfectly happy with this way of life, until one day, on the way back from Mass, his mother was attacked in an alleyway, and killed, for the meagre amount of money that was in her purse. When Osric ran and told his father what had happened, the man became furious. He chased after the men who had commited this terrible act, taking his son along to identify them, and when he found them, he killed them in cold blood, leaving his son to watch.

His father went downhill after this, ending up drinking heavily, and neglecting his duties as a priest. When the other priests at the church saw his behaviour, they decided it was best for a young Catholic boy not to be around this man, and he was taken away from his father, and sent to a boarding school, where religion was a huge part of the regime.

Osric grew up into a fine young man, away from all the torments of his childhood, and as soon as he left school, he joined the clergy, becoming a priest in a church in Canterbury. He served God happily, and was a devout priest. So devout, in fact, that he was approached by a group of men and women, who wished for him to join them and further their cause. He accepted, willing to do anything that would help him better serve the Lord.

He became a part of Iscariot, and still serves his duty in Canterbury, but whenever he is needed, he will answer the call.

Snippet:
Father Osric Mason knelt on the ground, using his longsword to steady himself. The blade, as well as his own body, was covered in the blood of his enemies. He bowed his head and closed his eyes, and began to pray for forgiveness. Blood trickled down his hand, the result of an old wound reopened in battle.

The walk back to his home was a blur to him. He remembered nothing from the point where he drew his blade to the point where he was now, at home, washing the blood from his weapon, and his body.

[i]I pray to you, the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, for forgiveness. I have done your duty this day, but it has required me to spill the blood of another. I pray for you to cleanse me of the sin I have committed this day.

Amen.

[/i]He prayed long and hard. His blade had killed many this day, all in the name of the Holy Father, and Iscariot. His head was bowed as he sat on the edge of his rough, straw-filled bed.

He sighed, lifted his head and got to his feet, securing the longsword that it was his duty to wield to his belt, and left the room. He needed a long walk after this...
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[SIZE=1][B]Name:[/B] Pietro Romano of Verona

[B]Age:[/B] 24

[B]Gender:[/B] Male

[B]Appearance:[/B] [URL=http://park108.x-y.net/img/deathnote_001.jpg][Pietro][/URL]
Pietro is a muscular man, but not overly-so. His lean arms allow him to wield his two rapiers, the El Cid Swords, with great mastery. His thin figure allows him great speed and agility whilst he does battle. He combines momentum with his strength for truly devastating strikes.

He stands at 6?1?? and has beautiful blue eyes. They?re usually covered, though, by a pair of thin, lightly tinted, square rimmed shades. His hair is black, his bangs fall over his eyes, and, in back, falls past his shoulders. He often spikes his hair. On his shades, as well as the back of his gloves, he has the symbol of the Archangel Gabriel for protection. His skin is tanned, for he spends much of his time hunting those who stray from the light in the light?s cover.

Pietro?s usual attire consists of a black trench coat with silver lining, that covers a white sleeveless shirt and black slacks. His boots are steel-toed, and he wears a pair of gloved that cut off at his knuckles so that he can keep a good grip on his blades. On his pointer finger he wears a bronze, dragon-head ring, and his middle, a golden lion ring, and on his index, a silver wolf ring. Around his neck is a silver crux gemmata, a crucifix with thirteen embedded black onyx in it in it.

[B]Personality:[/B] Pietro is a man of God in every aspect. He has taken a vow of abstinence and temperance, and he tries desperately to keep his soul chaste, even though he has murdered many in his crusade under the lord?s name. He shows mercy to only those who are faithful, but deals justice however he needs to those who stray from God?s light. He says a silent prayer for those he kills, and gives them a proper burial, even if they are a demon or creation of the devil.

He is by no means a man of solitude, though. He socializes with others quite often, an he is friendly with the other member of Iscariot. He makes many visits to church to seek forgiveness from the lord for the many sins he has committed for the good of mankind. He lives his life with nobility and respect, and keeps his integrity without question.

[B]Weapon:[/B]
[I]El Cid Swords[/I]- 32 ½?? long blade, 41?? in length and weighing only 3 lbs, 2ozs each, these rapiers are just the style of blade Pietro is preferable. The ivory hilt is a golden-bronze hue, and has miniature engravings entailing pictures of great catholic art. The blades has Iscariot written along it in script. He prefers to fight with both at once, an art he spent many years perfecting and can now do quite masterfully. His blades stay at his sides at all times, and even at his bedside whilst he sleeps, if he has the leisure to do so.

[B]History/Background:[/B] Pietro has been a child of the church since birth. His mother and father were priests at the local church in Verona, and he was raised under the will of God. He placed his faith before all else, save the family that raised him. His childhood was a relatively happy one, save the occasional drunk or criminal would stagger into God?s house not to repent, but to mock those who prayed to ?a delusion? the church had created. He always regarded such men with anger, but his parents taught him to forgive those men, for they were lost and needed God the most.

At the age of 14, he found that he could not ever learn to completely forgive those men. During Mass on Sunday, two men like that came into the church and went all the way to the altar, pretending they needed to talk desperately with the father, Pietro?s father. They pulled out blades on him, and stabbed him to death. Then, from outside, a series of explosions went off around the building. The church went up in flames, and many were killed instantly. Pietro?s mother pushed from inside the church, just as the ceiling collapsed down upon the innocent people within.

Pietro was sent into a state of blind heartache, and he traveled aimlessly for days.
His travels brought him to another church, one very similar to his own. To his great disdain, and sorrow, was the two men who had single-handedly destroyed his life were going to destroy another family?s. He ran to take on the men on his own. A noble act, but a foolish one. He was beaten horridly, but still continued to fight. Finally he was knocked back into the dirt, and the front man drew his blade. He pressed it against Pietro's neck and sneered, tilting his head back, as it to talk to the sky and him at once.

[B]?Where is your God now??[/B]

Pietro shut his eyes and prayed, waiting for the sword to puncture his throat, for him to feel the cold sting of death. Fortunately, it never came. When he opened his eyes, he found that both men had been knocked unconscious, and a large man stood over him, a large staff on his back. He extended his hand and spoke kindly to Pietro. His eyes danced with warmth, and he portrayed an aura of indulgence, righteousness, and safety.

[B]?You are brave my son. Not many would give self-sacrifice in the name of the church. Come with me, and you will find those who share such a deep devotion as yours, those who pledge their lives to defeating the creatures of the night, to beating the pagans and heretics back to the devil they worship, and to administering God?s grace to the people on Earth.?[/B] Pietro smiled up at this man and took his hand.

He was brought to a monastery in Verona where he found peace and a finally regained a feeling of home. He lived there, training and proving his worth so that he might one day join the ranks of the Thirteenth Order Iscariot. He finally did so, at the age of 22, when he saved his savior from a horde of lesser vampires. They has attacked the older man without warning, and had caused him great physical pain. Just as they were going to turn him into one of them, Pietro arrived and made quick work of them. He doused them all in holy water and used their dilemma as a distraction to impale them with stakes. He mentor looked up at him and grabbed his hand, placing a crux gemmata in his hand.

[B]?You are now worthy of the Thirteenth Section. Do your duties with honor, you and the others are the only protection man has against that which he does not understand.?[/B]

[B]Snippet:[/B] Pietro glared at the man to his left. He had just smoked his third cigarette in 3 minutes. The man was obviously a chain smoker, and that was his business, but there was a small child nearby, suffering form the smoke. Pietro turned to the man, pulled the cigarette from his mouth, the rest from his pocket, and the matches as well. He threw the cigarettes into the sky and quickly lit a match and tossed it at the cigs. They went up in flames and landed in a trash nearby. Just as he put the matches away in his pocket, the man grabbed his collar.

[B]?Those were mine, ******. Mine.?[/B] As he spoke his brought his face very close to Pietro, and for good reason. He was showing him his fangs. This man was a serial killer, and he sharpened his teeth so he could bite his victims neck and suck their blood. He called himself The Vampire. But Pietro knew of true vampires, and this man paled in comparison. He merely brushed the man away and walked off. Tonight was not a night for imposters. Tonight was a night for the truly evil.

He walked into the forest behind the town. There had been rumor of a creature dragging off innocent people into a lair of sorts, and then that person would never come back. From the evidence he gathered from the town, Pietro could tell it was a vampire. It was just amazing it hadn't converted the whole town. He walked into the darkness of the woods, deeper and deeper into it's heart. Finally he reached his destination. He breathed in deeply.

[B]"How...Quaint."[/B] Bodies that had been ripped apart lined the trees, and blood stains soaked the ground. He said a silent prayer for those who had been destroyed by the monster. He then heard a rustle from above him. The Vampire imposter. He sighed angrily. That man had no idea what he was getting into. He jumped down and faced Pietro, his eyes bright with anger. His words were angry, but oddly musical.

[B]"No one turns their back to me! I'll rip the flesh off of your bones and drink your savory blood by the gallo---"[/B] He stopped as something leaked onto his shoulder. Saliva. Pietro cursed the man's foolishness. This vampire hadn't fed in days. And that man had just given him an excellent idea, as well as provided dinner. Pietro tackled the man out of the way as the creature came plummeting to the ground. The man screamed.

[B]"Holy ****!!! A real vampire!"[/B] He pushed Pietro away from him and ran quickly out of the woods. The vampire stood to fly after him, but Pietro wasn't going to allow it to feed. He took out bandages doused in holy water, the matches he had take from the murder, and lit the bandages on fire. It created a holy light, one that blinded the vampire. Pietro than put the fire out and drew his blades, talking calmly to the creature.

[B]?I do not fear you. But you should fear me. I am Pietro Romano of he Thirteenth Section Iscariot. It is my sworn duty to ensure the safety of this town and the world, and to do so, I must eradicate those like yourself. Starting with you.?[/B] He moved like lighting, so swift that all the vampire knew of his strike was the searing pain of having a blade dipped in holy water slide through his chest. Pietro adjusted his glasses and turned back to the vampire. He jumped back swiftly as the vampire unleashed an onslaught of strikes at him. He was hit three times, and each wound bled profusely. Pietro wasn?t worried, though. He could take care of those later.

[B]?Hmph. You have disgraced the lord enough by being present on his world. And you have now defiled me by touching me. Here?s your one way ticket to hell.?[/B] He ran up to the Vampire with amazing speed, but the vampire dodged it. It turned around to strike him, but was stopped cold. A stake had been driven into his heart. His body fell limply to the ground. Pietro put the stake into the pouch around his waist and grabbed his blade with both hands. He said a silent prayer and cut off the head of the Vampire.

[B]?Amen.?[/B]

[B]Additional information:[/B] Pietro, though he has devoted his life to God and the Church, hopes to one day find true love.

[CENTER][B]*****[/B][/CENTER]
[B]OOC:[/B] I hope everything is in order.
[B]EDIT:[/B] I altered the Snippet, the weapon the men against the church used, Pietro's physical appearance and the tattoos. I hope it's alright.[/SIZE]
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[SIZE=1][COLOR=Sienna][CENTER][B]Name:[/B] Maree Bedeau
[B]Age:[/B] 19
[B]Gender:[/B] Female[/CENTER]

[B]Appearance:[/B] A delicate look deceives all that Maree meets. She has an extremely slender figure that hides the strength of strenuous training. Pale coloring also gives Maree a somewhat ill look at times, but she is at the peak of health nonetheless. Her appearance is somewhat nondescript: cobalt-blue eyes, rust-brown hair, a snub nose, delicate chin, pale face, and an average height. In fact, because of her shorn hair and slender build, most will mistake Maree as a young boy, instead of a young woman, making her gender ambiguous to those that do not know her.

On her back and arms she has sienna-colored tattoos, which are always hidden under her clothing. In the middle of her back are three, small cherubim faces, each with a pair of wings, and on her lower back מרים, meaning ?bitter.? A large cross has been placed in between her shoulder blades, and on her upper left arm are the Roman numerals VII, standing for the seventh Apostle Matthew.

[CENTER][B]Personality:[/B] Taking literally into account her most adored spiritual figure [I]Our Lady of Sorrows[/I], Maree deems suffering as some sort of blessing. Ecclesiastes 7:3 is one of her favorite verses in the Bible: ?Sorrow is better than laughter, because a sad face is good for the heart.? She has a somewhat skewed sense of reality as a result of her childhood. Blood is not a surprising sight for her even though she is young, and death is no stranger. In fact, she has almost come to regard these things as normal. It goes so far as to the point where she feels something is off if there is no suffering. In times others will feel that Maree is unbearably cruel and unmerciful to her enemies in procuring their deaths, as she will prolong them. However, to Maree this is seen in the complete opposite ? she feels that the only way their hearts can be made good is if they suffer before death. So in her own sense, she is trying to save her enemies.

Other than that, Maree has a very unassuming and innocent nature. She is wise, and yet incurs in others a desire to mother or protect her. By most in the church, Maree is seen as a child in need of guidance and protection, to be guarded and sheltered; thus, she is a favorite to most matrons in the church, for few of them know her role in Iscariot Section XIII. She accepts these small bits of comfort, and will play the part of a child for the sake of these older, childless women. Maree is an intense and concentrated seeker of knowledge, and the written word is precious to her. In the same way, she is a passionate student, and will take most advice as it is given. To give her a rare book or piece of writing is the best and fullest way to gain her tentative trust.[/CENTER]

[B]Weapon:[/B]
[I]Halberd[/I] ? Maree?s weapon of choice, it is a two-handed pole weapon, with an axe-blade set upon a 7-foot long shaft. The axe-blade was made from a silver metal imported from the Orients, forged in a specific folding method that made it almost impossible to break or wear. The blade curves longer into a scythe-like point, and on the back side there is a long hook and thorn for the purpose to taking down mounted opponents. The shaft is made of fire-hardened ash wood, and is reinforced with metal rims for the purpose of blocking other weapons.

The latter two weapons are brought out only in special circumstances, and are usually kept under lock and key.
[I]Qiangs[/I] ? Also imported from the East Orients, they are a set of identical spears that are lighter than the European constructs, and are ideal for flexibility in close combat, as well as for throwing long distances, and Maree is naturally an expert at both.
[I]Awl Pike[/I] ? With an exceeding length of 22 feet, and the steel tip fairly long compared to the shaft, this is the heaviest of Maree?s weapons, and one she doesn?t use often. Indeed, it can be quite unwieldy in close combat, and needs special training to handle effectively. Maree has developed her own distinct style with this so as to be able to manipulate it successfully, but it drains strength and stamina from her very quickly, and it is rare in its uses. The only reason she has this weapon is for the devastating power and damage that it can cause.

[RIGHT][B]History/Background:[/B] Born into a rich, aristocratic family, Maree was brought up in a pampered lifestyle in the beautiful city of Toulouse. The effects of the Hundred Years? War were still being felt, as was the death of the fabled Jeanne d?Arc. It was with the stories of this French heroine that Maree was brought up on, as well as her parents? strong hatred of the English. The three cherubim that grace Maree?s back are the effects of childhood, in which the stories included the descriptions of Jeanne d?Arc?s banner: pure white livery with three angels, or in some cases two angels with God.

Sadly, Maree was raped as a very young child by a close relative. Her parents, because Maree was no longer a virgin, and because they wished to cover up this family misfortune, placed their small child into the keeping of a convent, donating extensive sums of money for her well-being and education. Throughout her life (and even now), the Bedeau family was a major support to the church financially, and it is because of this that Maree has VII tattooed on her arm. For Matthew, the seventh Apostle, also was an economic benefactor for the followers of Jesus, and was their bookkeeper; yet he did all his work in a quiet way. The presence of Matthew among Jesus? companions is also very comforting to Maree, for he represents those that feel themselves to be long since past the bounds of religious consolation, and still Jesus accepted all of these outcast souls. It is because of this that she feels such gratitude towards Matthew, for it is because of his place by Christ that she is assured that she too can have the hope to be accepted into the Kingdom, despite her tainted life and immortal sin.

Inside the convent and raised by kindly nuns, Maree was quickly attracted to the ancient tomes and spiritual volumes of books. She was an extremely intelligent and quick learner, and immersed herself in multiple studies, acquiring vast amounts of knowledge. It was the one thing that she pursued with an obvious passion, and so the nuns encouraged it, also teaching her the skill of penmanship, letters, and writing. It was not long before Maree, though still a child, could exceed the older women not only in knowledge, but also in grace of penmanship. She was set to the task of making copies of books and texts, and did so with a mature style and beautiful skill. It was because of this dexterity with the hand and quickness of the mind that Maree attracted the attention of Iscariot, and they deemed that they would train her to become one of their members. Thus, they sent one of their respected members in the guise of a nun, and Maree was raised from the age of nine under the training regimen of Iscariot, and flourished.

Even while in the convent, Maree?s family kept in contact, and at the age of seventeen both of her parents died under circumstances unknown outside the family. Control of all estates was given to a certain male relative, who was ironically the same that had raped Maree. He gave the strict ultimatum that Maree always had to be the envoy and courier of any business between the church and the family Bedeau, meaning that she had to come into direct contact with him. Although the nuns were very much against this, Maree gave voice and accepted the conditions willingly, knowing that the convent very much needed the financial support. It was then that she got the tattoo of Meryam in Hebrew, meaning ?bitter,? her only secret cry of her situation. What has happened to her since then she keeps an utter secret, and will reveal to no one. Yet in small cases, it is obvious of the effect on Maree?s disposition, which has grown more silent, hiding a deep sorrow, and her distorted sense of love and reality. It is also because of this that her trust is so tentative as well, for she fears betrayal. The only beings she trusts wholly are God, Christ, and Our Lady of Sorrows, although she still feels that because of her taint (the rape) that she will never be worthy, and through suffering is gaining some sort of repentance.

However, this in no way has hampered her training or intuitive cleverness. She was just recently inducted into Iscariot Section XIII, and is at the moment in northern Italy, making a copy of the Miscellany (later to be known as the Rothschild Miscellany) before her return to Toulouse.[/RIGHT]

[B]Snippet:[/B]

?It?s been such a long time? I thought you would perhaps be happier to see me,? he said, smiling. He was as beautiful as she remembered; with bright eyes and fair hair, he looked like an angel. How she had loved looking at him as a child, thinking that this could indeed be a prince of a far land. He had always snuck her a sweet before dinner, or retied her bow for her, or had given her a delicate trinket to adorn her small wrist. He had always been loving, and still was.

Such love? Why, then, did it make her feel such despair?

When she was a child, he had assured her that it was perfect, normal, that there was nothing wrong, and that he would never hurt her. She trusted him. What else could she have done at that age, when his approval had meant the world? And he had kept his word ? he had never hurt her. It was only afterwards that it hurt?after he had carefully cleaned the blood away.

?There?s always a little bit of blood at first love, darling. No worries dearest.? His voice still echoed in her head.

Yes, he had never hurt her. It was only afterwards, when his face was gone, and when she tried not to remember what had happened, when she still couldn?t understand what had happened, and yet had a gut feeling that she had been horribly, horribly betrayed.

And now he came closer again, his soft hand caressing the curve of her cheek?

[B]Maree woke.[/B]

She breathed deeply, and lit a candle.
[I]Four-o?clock in the morning?and bad dreams already haunting me. He is too far away to hurt me right now...[/I] She slid out of the bed, quickly donning her habit, and putting on a dark cloak as well, before stepping out. She walked quickly, taking in the fresh, chilled air of the early morning. Coming to a building, Maree nodded to the guard as she went through the doors. The small scribe?s apprentice quickly came to his feet, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and led her to her usual desk.

Maree took off the cloak, and lit another candle. The boy came, carrying sheets of vellum, ink, pens, and a small scraping tool. A monk followed, carrying the Miscellany. She nodded to him in thanks, and he put the book down on her desk. She bent over her task, sharpening the quills before starting again. The words seemed to provide her some solace ? at least they cleared her head of memories. In their place, she would fill it with history and with scripture.

?Gold leaf next,? she said quietly to herself, picking up the small flakes, and carefully placing them onto the transparent vellum. And quickly, the early morning hours passed away, as did the bad dreams and dark thoughts? And so did the days pass for Maree.[/COLOR][/SIZE]
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[font=garamond][color=darkred]Signups are looking looking rather good friends, but there are a few things I would like to add based on what I've read so far.

Tattoos: I realise that these symbols upon the skin hold significance for certain characters. But the marks were taboo for those closely related to the church or from high standing families in the 1400s. Therefore I ask that these be changed in whatever way you would wish. A few examples would be trinkets for rememberance/symbolisim or if you're game to it, self mutilation.

Guns: The only gun that one could find in the 1400s was the hand gonne, wich really wasn't hand held at all. It was a bulky wood and metal tube used in battle and was much more like a small cannon than a portable firearm. Therefore, I doubt characters could die from bullet wounds.

Vampires: In this age (and story) vampires are not the common, suave, human looking creatures of the night that you all know (and might love) from other fictional works. The vampires in this story are beastly monsters who do not attack without reason. More will be described about them in comming chapters.

And that is relatively the gist of it. I appologise if I sound anal at all, or even seem to be singling out Rpers. I just wanted to adress these issues for the better of your signups.[/color][/font]
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[SIZE=2][FONT=Georgia][B]Name:[/B] Sister Carmita Arroyo

[B]Age:[/B] 28

[B]Gender: [/B] Female

[B]Appearance:[/B] She has lower back-length, dirty blonde hair that she keeps in a braid most of the time. She has shockingly light-blue eyes veiled in long, dark lashes. Carmita is rather short for her age, standing at about five feet. Because of her height, many people mistake her for a much younger woman, around the ages of fifteen to eighteen. Also, her height makes it very easy for her to hide. She wears a long black dress and has black, cloth-like boots. Around her neck, she wears a small, wooden cross with a brown string through the top of it.

[B]Personality:[/B] To those she kills, she is cold and ruthless. She refuses to show them mercy because they have sinned against the Lord. After every killing, she says a prayer for forgiveness fpr herself and for the sinners.

Normally, she is a very good-humored person. She loves being with Father Josef Schmid because she admires his good sense of humor and his mentor-like quality. If she's not with him, she's usually in the church either praying the rosary or reading. Carmita is a dreamer, and finds herself drifting a lot. Father Schmid is one of the only people who can keep her from drifting (she's even found herself floating while praying sometimes). Although she may not be the strongest person (don't underestimate her, she can fight pretty well), she makes up for the lost strength with her intellegence.

[B]Weapons:[/B] She carries two poison-tipped daggers in her boots, one in each boot. They're about six inches in length and she uses them for the thief's thrown blade arts that she had learned. She carries the poison in a small phile with her as well, just in case the need should arise for it. Her preferred weapon is the Morningstar, a ball-and-chain mace. A small, metal ball is fashioned with spikes on it and is attached to a chain. The chain attaches to a wooden handle. Also, she is quite skilled with a bow and arrow.

[B]History:[/B] From the day she was born, Carmita was raised to be a religious woman. She was born into a very religious family. At a very young age, she was helping out around the church. She usually just scrubbed the floors, but her parents were proud that she was so involved. Whenever she got done with her work, she'd go to the walls of the abbey and sit with her back against them, listening to the hymns that the sisters would sing.

At the age of seventeen, she told her parents of her interest in the abbey. She told them that she would like to join. They had no objections, and she went to see the mother the next morning. She was accepted. Before she took her vows and had to stay at the abbey, her father carved for her a wooden cross and put a string on it. When he was tying it around her slender neck, he told her that her path was the way to God.

Years later, when Carmita was twenty-five, she heard about the Iscariot. The idea intrigued her and she left the abbey of Madrid and set off for Canterbury.

[B]Snippet:[/B] Carmita walked wearily towards the church, it's massive wooden doors inviting. The cold night air was creeping up on her as the sun warm glow receded over the horizon. She stopped in front of them, saying another prayer before she stepped in the church. "In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Ghost. I have done terrible deeds in your name...I beg your forgiveness. Amen." She pushed the doors open and stepped inside.

The church was completely empty, the nightly sermon being long finished. She went to the statuette of the Virgin Mary. She lit the candle that was at the statue's feet and knelt down, her head bowed and her hands folded. "My Lady, I have cleared away some of the dirt from your son's beautiful earth and I beg your forgiveness. I have murdered, but in the name of your son. I've taken life. I am a sinner as well. Please forgive me." She stayed there, praying silently.

When she stood, she went straight to her small bedroom. She opened the wooden door and looked out the window directly across the room at the rising moon. Under the window was her little bed. The silver light spilling on it made it look as though she had a silk bedsheet. She kneeled next to her bed and held her cross in her hands. Carmita said a small prayer, then took off her boots and climbed into her bed.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=1][B]Name:[/B] Sister Maree Bedeau of Toulouse
[B]Age:[/B] 19
[B]Gender:[/B] Female

[B]Appearance:[/B] Maree is an average girl in height and weight, being 5'9" and around 105 lbs. But she is beautiful with her graceful figure, her jet-black hair that falls gently down to her shoulders and her bangs that accent her curiously green eyes. Despite her slender build, Maree is skilled with [b]Salus[/b], and can spin it around like a toothpick. She is also agile and quick on her feet. And even though she is strong, her arms and legs show little sign of her strength.

Maree?s normal attire includes anything gray. A gray blouse, gray skirt, gray gloves, and everything and anything else. However, a white or black top does interrupt her usual days? dress, but only when a birth (represented by white) or a death (represented by black) occurs that affects her. While most wear a chain with a crucifix around their neck, Maree no longer shows her symbol of God, but hides it. This need to protect the symbol from the blood she spills so often represents how she protects the Church.

[B]Personality:[/B] Maree is a very tired and pessimistic individual. Very little gives her much joy anymore, and loud, social gatherings are not one of them. She prefers solitude and quiet to many things, with the exception of Mass. However, there was a time when Maree enjoyed company, but those times have long passed.

[B]Weapon:[/B] [i]Halberd[/i] - A type of spear or pole weapon used by the Swiss Guard of the Vatican. Maree has dubbed her weapon [b]Salus[/b], which is Latin for 'salvation'. The axe-blade tip is 9" long, and is made of solid steal. Etched into the blade are the words ?Sanctum preliator?, that when translated mean ?Holy warrior?. The staff is a short, but effective, length of 30" and is made of a similar material, but is a bit lighter.

[B]History/Background:[/B] Maree Bedeau was actually born Maree Ackart in Toulouse, France. Maree was quite lucky as she was born into a rich and powerful family of the time. From an early age, she was taught the etiquette of young, sophisticated women, tutored in Latin, as per her father?s wishes, and cultured in the worlds of fine dining. She would become a promising young aristocrat, and wed off to the best man in all of France. And she was a fast learner, as well, and had mastered all her courses at the age of seven. However, there was one problem. Maree found no happiness in this lifestyle.

Everything was so tiring and boring, and she hated the thought of being paraded around like a doll and sold to the man that would bring the Ackart?s the most money and the biggest boost in reputation. That was all her parents thought about. Their reputation, and their money. Disgusted, Maree decided it was best to leave them to their greed and find somewhere less corrupted to live, and she thought she was ready to find that somewhere. Of course, being a rash twelve year-old all alone in the real world was not a good idea. But, she could not see this, and walked right out into the big, terrifying world with nothing but her bag full of a couple small books, two bottles of water, a small amount of food, and a compass.

But, only days after leaving, Maree began to wonder if her parents would go looking for her, or at least send a search party. Being out on the road, she knew she would hear no news of any such party, unless it came along the road itself. However, she soon forgot all about that, as the traveling the long roads on foot took its toll. She was weary, and collapsed in the mud alongside the road many a night. After the first week, she realized that she must have taken one of the least used roads down to Foix, for she had seen not a soul going either to or from the small town that lay south of her home of Toulouse. Sometimes, when it rained, she would refill her bottles of water, but there was no food to speak of, and she normally slept hungry.

After nearly a month of walking on one of the most lengthy and unused roads that came from Toulouse, Maree saw in the distance a town. There were many buildings and houses, and people in the roads. She had found her new home. The moment she walked into town, a kindly old woman asked her if she would like some food for she looked starved. And because she was, in fact, quite starved, she eagerly accepted the woman?s offer.

Upon telling the woman why she had traveled so far on foot, Maree was asked to stay with the old woman. She was hesitant, thinking that news of a search party must have reached the town. But when she asked, the old woman said the only news of a missing girl came a few weeks ago, but the party who came with the news cared very little, and delivered it with little urgency. Disappointed more than anything, she decided it was best to stay with the woman, having nowhere else to go, and not wanting to return home.

The old woman, whose name was Aurore Bedeau, was shocked, to say the least, when Maree told her that she had never gone to church before, since her parents were never very exuberant about going to church. The following Sunday, Aurore brought her along to Mass, and Maree was filled with joy. Never had anything she had been told made as much sense to her as the Psalms and readings she heard during that Mass. She felt like she was walking on clouds as she exited the church with her kindly, old hostess, but soon was beside herself with anger and sadness. Not only was she now angry that her parents had never taken her to church and sad that she had missed out on such a wonderful meeting, she was disgusted to carry their name. So, from that day, she took Aurore?s surname as her own, in honor of the kind woman that took her in and showed her the wonders of the church.

At the age of thirteen, Maree was a common sight at any and all church events, and never missed Sunday?s service. She became good friends with all the townspeople, and was especially close with Aurore. Soon, she was convinced that nothing would be better for her than to become a Nun, and serve the church, and Aurore and the rest of the town supported her fully. However, there was no monastery in the small town of Foix. She would have to return to the one place she thought she?d never have to see again. Her birthplace of Toulouse. She was torn between returning to the place she hated the most, or doing the thing she desired the most. Aurore?s push to become a nun helped her decide, and soon, she was off to Toulouse, but this time on the main road and with a group.

Maree entered the city and went immediately to the monastery, avoiding her parents? estate entirely. The thought of seeing it made her wretch. At the monastery, she met with a woman named Sister Audrey, talked to her for a bit. She was then invited to come back in the next couple of days to attend one of the services the monastery was holding. Eventually, she was accepted, and took all the steps to becoming a full-fledged nun. At the age of fifteen, Maree had become Sister Maree. She was as, if not more, devout to the church as any of the women there.

One day, an older gentleman, who was a priest who was visiting the monastery, greeted her. He told her that he was in search of dedicated, young servants of God, and that she had every quality required. He instructed her that, if she was interested, to meet her in town the following day to discuss it further. He bowed and left, leaving Maree in the quiet hallway to think it over. The next day, he walked to the meeting place to see young Maree eagerly waiting for him. She was told of a special part of the Catholic church that required a few young men and women to fill a few positions. However, she would receive little attention, and would not be allowed to speak of it to anyone but those she worked for and with. She nodded solemnly, accepting these terms. The priest then explained the duties she would have to do, and the training she needed to go through.

From that day forth, Maree became a member of Iscariot. However, before the two parted, she requested that she be able to visit Foix before she began her training. He granted her this request, and told her to come to the Toulouse town church in a few weeks. She agreed, and immediately set off to find fast transportation to Foix.

She traveled with haste, and reached the small town in a little over a week. However, when she arrived, she was not greeted with the familiar smiles she had grown so fond of. Instead, she saw unfamiliar people, who gave her stares and odd looks because of her robes. Instinctively, she ran to the church first. She was happy to see the priest she knew so well still there, but was heartbroken by the news he had given her. Aurore had died soon after Maree left, and the town had been hit with a vicious disease that killed almost all of the residents, save ten or twelve of them. Devastated, Maree left soon after crying all she could. She traveled slowly back to Toulouse, the only thought in her head being that her only home now was the church, and her only purpose now was to serve as a member of Iscariot.

Once Maree returned, she immediately began training. She tried for several weapons, but only one took. The pole weapon. Her favorite was the halberd, by far. And, just as she had been as a child, Maree was a fast learner, mastering every technique and skill her teachers showed her. She trained and studied for three long years, and finally completed her training right after her eighteenth birthday. Ready to fulfill her duties, Maree set out into the world to do away with the evil that plagued the world. Even with only a year of experience, she is one of the most dedicated members of the Iscariot.

[B]Snippet:[/B] [b]"Father Leon!"[/b] Maree cried, running through the church. The man she had missed so much as she was away at the monastary was now yards away. She ran to him, with such joy in her face and voice could illuminate the whole church. [b]"Father Leon!"[/b] she repeated as she embraced him tightly.

[b]"Ma.. Maree? Is that you?"[/b] the priest stammered, pulling her away to examine her face.

[b]"Yes Father. I've come back! And with wonderful news!"[/b] she cried happily, tears beginning to stream down her face.

[b]"Oh, child, don't cry. Please. The sight of your tears.. it.."[/b] But he could not finish his sentence. [b]"No! I am happy! I cry out of joy, not of sorrow. But.. Why do you seem so sad?"[/b] she asked, the volume of her voice quieting. He placed his hand on her shoulder, but she lifted it and held it in her own, a look of worry masking her young face. [b]"Tell me, Father. What is it that troubles you?"[/b]

[b]"You are a kind young woman, Maree. We all knew you would become as caring as you are now. But.. Many horrible sorrows have passed through this town. It is no longer the Foix you once knew. Many of the old townsfolk have died. We were hit with an illness that took many young ones, as well as their parents. I am one of the few that lived through it. And Maree, Aurore.. She- .. She's gone,"[/b] he whispered. He lowered his head, taking his hand out of hers and slumping back to his bench at the organ.

Maree was silent, and she stared up at the large glass mosaic that rested above the rest of the church. The light was on her now, and she used to feel such a high from feeling the sun on her through that window. But now, nothing could make her feel that again.

[b]"Father.."[/b] Father Leon lifted his head and turned to look at her. Her bangs covered her eyes, but he could see tears falling off her cheek. [b]"Father.. I missed you. I missed Aurore. I missed everyone while I was back at the monastary. I knew things would be different when I returned. There was no denying it. But I thought that- .. I thought that if I came back, everything might be able to go back. I could play with little Francis and her brother, Adrian. They would have been a bit older, but they would be the same.. I could've fixed up the curtains with Aurore again. And I could go to church to see everyone again. But now.. I return to find out they're dead?!"[/b] She shouted her last few words, startling Leon, but he knew she was as saddened as he was, and this was the only way she could let it all out.

[b]"Everyone I love is now gone! I should never have gone away! I could have helped.. This is all my fault.."[/b] She raised her head to face him. His heart ached as he saw the look on her face, and the large tears flooding out of her eyes. Her cheeks were red with anger, but her eyes were full of such sadness that he could not stop himself. A few small tears slowly traveled down the side of his face.

[b]"I thought I had already cried all the tears out of me. Hah."[/b] His chuckle confused Maree, but she said nothing. [b]"I'm sorry, Maree. There is nothing either of us can do. When the illness first hit, I thought it was possible to cure them with blessings. But I failed, so many became resentful of me. They thought I had given little effort into saving the first few children that passed. Few came to church anymore. Except Aurore and a few others. But Aurore.. She died soon after the illness came, but it wasn't the illness that took her. She was old. You have to accept that as I have. I did not blame anyone for her death, and neither should you."[/b]

Maree glared at him, and was about to yell at him when he held up a hand and his face became stern. She had never seen him with an expression like that.

[b]"However, she did tell me right before she died to tell you not to loose faith. God will help you get through the pain of loss, and guide you on your path. It was the ones that still came to church and did not loose faith that survived through it all. And Francis is still alive. Adrian was one of the first to get sick, though."[/b] The two were silent. But slowly, Father Leon walked towards her and embraced her, kissing her forehead. She stayed still, her arms staying glued to her sides, her eyes staring into the cloth of his robe, as he was quite a bit taller than she was. [b]"We all missed you. But had you stayed, you may have been taken, too. It was God that kept you alive, Maree. Don't forget that."[/b]

Thats when she could not keep it in. The sobs burst through her as if a large dam had broken. The tears flooded faster and her arms lifted and tightened around his chest for support. Her knees felt weak, and she began to drop to the ground. Leon bent down with her and held her as she cried.

[b]"You said you had good news, Maree. I pray you'll tell me before leaving once more. I'd love to hear some good news. Especially from you."[/b]

--
[color=#006aaf]OOC: Okay. *deep breath* I'm [i]reeeaally[/i] tired right now, since this sign up suffered through a program crash and two computer crashes, which means I've had to redo this three times, and I started it back around 2:30 this afternoon. >_< I guess this computer doesn't want me to join this RP or something, because it's done everything it can to prevent me from submitting it. (And I was almost done the last time, too. ;_; ) I apologize for the length of the history, but I got carried away, and now I can't find anything that I could edit out without ruining part of it. And the weird part is, my sign up is eerily similar to Cyriel?s, too. Sorry about that. <_<;; And since I?m waaay to tired of writing tonight, now I have to finish the snippet later. xD Oh well. But seriously.. I really have to start doing these things in Word. o_O

EDIT: Got the snippet done.[/color] [/SIZE]
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  • 2 weeks later...
[COLOR=DarkRed][FONT=Garamond]Right, I appologise profusely for making you all wait so long, and I am ever greatful for your undying patience. I'm afraid I've been ill for a while (No thanks to Kairi :p) and I've been a bit tied up with job interveiws and the like. Again, I appologise for the frustratingly long wait.

Now comes the time to post the results of the Signups.

I feel that it was a hard choice, five of the six of you being chosen. It took me a great while to decide on what I was to do, and I thank you all ahead of time for your understanding. The cast of Iscariot Section XIII is as follows:

Father Josef Schmid- Kairi

Sister Carmita Arroyo- Kenshinsbabe

Father Pietro Romano- Archangel

Father Osric Mason- Fallen

Sister Maree Bedeau- Cyriel

Thank you all for taking the time to participate in this signup, you will be receiving news by PM very soon. I hope you all look forward to the beginning of this RPG!

As always, if you have any comments, concerns or even complaints, please don't hesitate to PM me or post in the Underground.[/FONT][/COLOR]
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