Fantasy Bravely Null

[The Black Knight]

Locke stopped in his tracks when a blonde, short cake stepped into his path. She surprised him by knowing who he was. Very few people knew who he was or even cared for he wasn’t his father, Zefron. While the tiny girl berated him, Shaia and Hiro listened, staring at Locke in bewilderment. The rifleman’s claims did not match the person they knew.

The sellsword rested a hand upon his hip and sighed an exasperated breath through his nostrils as his blue eyes stared tiredly down at her. She stepped toward him, her mouth relentlessly pouring insult after insult. It made Locke so tired that he nearly went cross-eyed.

Sir Lockeheed

“Sir?” Shaia repeated in confusion.

Lockeheed, Hiro mused.

It wasn’t until Clara’s hand rose to one of the button’s on her coat that Locke refocused. When she offered the button to him and explained its value, Locke snatched the glimmering disc from her hand and held it before his eyes, inspecting it closely.

“Hmmm!” he hummed with interest. He opened his mouth and bit down on the button, confirming its authenticity. “Now you’re speaking my language.”

His thumb flicked it behind him to Hiro who caught it. Shaia stepped over to Hiro to ogle the valuable with him. Meanwhile, Locke reached out a hand and patted Clara upon the head as though she were a little girl. There was a broad and pleased smile on his face. “For a second there, I thought you were gonna keep yelling at me like Shaia on her period.”

“Hey!” Shaia snarled.

“Sheesh, if you spent less energy flapping your gums during combat, and shooting that large rifle of yours, then you probably wouldn’t need my group. Your little button is enough for my band to assist you with one mission,” he explained. He then walked around her to continue over to the oasis. “You’re gonna need more buttons to keep us long term.”

InsaneAsylum Orikanyo Takumi98 Arcanist King Crimson

 

[Takumi98]

Vivian Grivois | Lyari Morcant | Ashe Starvos
From the dark depths of unconsciousness came color. Soft cool blues and violets made up four high walls and ceiling, with an arched wooden door facing her. She sat on a large bed softer than any silk that she could imagine, but with an underlying firmness beneath. Blue green eyes blinked, gaze landing on the arched window over looking Rivienne, her kingdom. Her home. The palace…

A gentle breeze wafted in from the open window, carrying a song.

Come little children
I'll take thee away
Into a land of enchantment
Come little children
The time's come to play
Here in my garden of shadows

Follow sweet children
I'll show thee the way
Through all the pain
And the sorrows
Weep not poor children
For life is this way
Murdering beauty and passions

Hush now dear children
It must be this way
Too weary of life
And deceptions
Rest now my children
For soon we'll away
Into the calm and the quiet

Brows furrowing, the song was like a whisper, a siren's lament echoing faintly in the cool wind as it brushed her cheek. It wasn't eerie, or particularly chilling. It was like...a vaguely familiar cautionary tale...yes, something like that. Who sung this before? Or had it just been someone outside being too loud? A sibling? A maid, a nanny? Vivian couldn't quite remember. She was sure she heard it at least once before though.

What...what if it was one of her Nanny's horror stories come to life? The ones she sometimes here them speaking about with their gossiping when they don't think she's listening or in earshot?

She swung her legs off the side of the bed, bare feet landing on the warm floor. She was going to stand and go to the window, but something quickly distracted her.

Come little children
I'll take thee away
Into a land of enchantment
Come little children
The time's come to play
Here in my garden of shadows...

The door opened, causing the young Princess to snap her attention to the person who entered, and nearly choked on the words that were going to come from her mouth as hazel eyes met her's. She could never tell if the owner's eyes were a shade of green or almost golden honeyed brown, but they were light and pretty, and she always wished she had such eyes.

"Mother?" She whispered, tongue heavy in her mouth and throat tight. The woman before her smiled, soft, caring, and full of love as she walked to her bedside, back straight and dark hair braided and pinned up. The song faded away as one sun kissed hand found it's way into Vivian's hair as a thoughtful look crossed the Queen's features, the smell of cinnamon faint, but there, as if the woman had eaten the sweet bread she loved to share during special occasions.

"You're still warm, lay back down, food will be brought up soon and your fever should go down in time." She hummed.

"Huh?" Vivian blinked up at her mother, suddenly feeling smaller, younger. She wasn't even sure her feet even touched the floor anymore. This had to be an old memory of her's, right? An old memory twisted into a dream.

"Rest now, while you can, okay my Darling? It may feel absolutely dreadful now, but things usually get worse before they get better. They do tend to get better. Try and remember that for me." She asked, an edge of worry to her voice. Her hands rested on Vivian's cheeks as she pressed their foreheads together. The blonde felt an ache in her chest as if someone had her heart in their hands and squeezed. She felt her breath hitch as if she'd cry, shoulders shaking as she held on to her mother's hands and gave them a squeeze. Her eyes closed as a sudden bout of nausea hit her, and--

The colors and the smells faded away, with nothing but distant mumblings of multiple voices were left.


"Lyari, wait here." Ashe had spoken quietly to the younger once he was sure she wouldn't cough up anymore and water and was relatively fine. Then eased up and made his way to the Princess's side to place her wrist in a three fingered grip, glad to see her heart still beat. He could of sworn her fingers twitched. Hoping to assist whatever way he could, especially if Gerran was willing to help save his charge's life, he didn't bother to pay some of the Prisoners any mind as they questioned if his charge was dead--something that made his brows furrow with a quiet bubbling pit of dread that threatened to grow and bubble over into a scream of angerlossfailurepainfuryanguish--before focusing on the girl in question and-

Vivian wheezed and sputtered, coughing as she rolled to the side and hacked up water and nearly hit her head on his knee in the process.

"Easy, Milady, easy." He spoke quietly, barely able to keep his voice steady from the sheer fear he had for a moment at thought that--

No, he wouldn't dare. Instead he kept a close eye as the Princess kneeled on the sand and took in much needed breaths once the water was up, the hand to the wrist used to check her pulse now on his sleeve, clinging tightly as she leaned heavily against her brother looking tired, teary eyed, but nonetheless alive.

However, she looked slightly...off to him. Troubled. And he had no doubt she probably wanted to talk about it. Likely not now, however, with all the noise and what sounded like chaos behind them with Lady Clara's wrath being unleashed. He quietly registered that Lyari had migrated to his side again, quiet and probably just as emotionally tired as Vivian after something no one no matter their age should endure.

"Lady Vivian...?" It was a quiet inquiry that didn't need further clarification other than the tone suggesting he was checking in on her physical (and likely emotional and mental) wellbeing, Vivian simply nodded in response instead and left it at that. The blonde noble then lifted her head completely from where she had been dazedly taken in her surroundings, eyes widening slightly as they locked on one Prisoner; Tarkik. Said prisoner in question had stood away from the cluster that stood around, inspecting his side where the man's hand lightly grazed a small dark patch of his thin prison shirt and from Ashe's gaze following he could deduce the man had gotten hurt. Tall, broad, and an almost intimidating presence surely. The girls' unlikely friend he didn't know the name of but was thankful to anyway.

Whatever wound he received however, didn't seem awfully deep as far as he could tell from what little the ratty shirt gave away without the man practically blocking the wound from view with his hand. What he could tell that he seemed worried for the Princess until he saw she was alive and well enough, and seemed to relax some, giving the two noble siblings a small bow of his head.

"H-how many...?" Vivian muttered, body shaking ever so slightly before clearing her throat in a cough to try and keep her voice from cracking awfully.

"How many injured?" She asked, not directed anyone in particular, eyes landing on Lanthane then, suddenly feeling as if she should say so many things to him and then unsure what else to even say. She...wanted to tell him about the dream, before it completely slipped her mind, but there was so much going on.

Vivian couldn't bear to ask about the deceased. Not now. Because she was...she was alive. Alive and quietly realizing that she could of met the Goddess, could of gone to the crystal, could of lost what little of her family she still had and probably would have been dragged back into chains because she would be still be alive after death and maybe not see them again because right now dying wasn't an option and going to the crystal was dangerous and if she hadn't woken, hadn't gotten the water out to breath, had let go any sooner--she cut that line of thought off and shoved it in the back of her mind for now. Focus. Cold. Wet. Tired. Sand. Wounded. Focus.

InsaneAsylum Arcanist Orikanyo King Crimson The Black Knight

 

[Arcanist]

Gerran Perall | Lanthane Grivois | Ayka Galani
Interactions: Takumi98 , Orikanyo | Mentions: King Crimson , The Black Knight

​

Lanthane panicked. She hadn't reacted at all to his shaking, his voice. Not a breath nor sign of life. He didn't know what to do next for her. Though, when he looked around, desperate somebody would see how helpless they were, Gerran was already making his way over to them with haste. "Gerran! Gerran, she's not breathing!" He shouted in his panic as Gerran moved to the other side of Vivian, looking over her. "Goddess, Gerran, what do I do?!"

Gerran, a picture of calm as he always was, looked up to Lanthane. "We'll push her onto her side, see if she spits out any water that way. Otherwise, we start compressions." He reached over to Vivian's other side as Ashe quickly approached, no doubt concerned by his charge's lack of life. He was quick to be by her side, to check her pulse. He looked to Lanthane again, listening to the cries and the shouts of concerned prisoners that were starting to gather around them, clearly lost in the moment. He clasped a hand on Lan's shoulder, firmly bringing him back to the moment again. "Lanthane, help me push her over. Ashe, I would appreciate your help too."

Though before any of them could do that, Vivian had already managed to do it for them. She turned onto her side, coughing and spluttering, and the relief poured in over Lanthane as quickly as the flooding waters in the prison. Many of the prisoners who had gathered around them in their panic, emitted some noises of relief at the princess' awakening. But Lanthane paid little heed to it. The shouting from Clara, and the altercation between the small girl and the massive Locke - or was it Lockeheed after all? - hadn't been at the forefront of his mind.

Lanthane let Vivian lean against him, hells, even held tightly onto her when she came to. Even still, after she had come around, he was terrified. Utterly terrified. He never had much of a bond with his siblings, not as he grew much older, at the least. Yet, even the thought of Vivian dying, to go through what he did, and to arrive back in what was now enemy territory, was something he would have hated to happen. He wasn't sure why he had such a reaction to it.

Maybe because they were only two known Grivois left. Maybe because Lanthane was even more scared of being alone than ever.

She tried speaking, and Lanthane looked down to her, finding her eyes on him. He just shook his head at her. "No, Vivian, don't trouble yourself with that right now. You need to gather your strength back first before you even think of anything like that." She was always much better at that than he was. Thinking of others before herself.

In the meanwhile, Ayka was faced with another battle of her own. Adal, looking at her the same way a beast was met with its predator, tried to make a run for it up the sand dunes, but to no avail. She watched him fall - figuratively and physically - as he curled up as a means of his own defence against her. Muttering and crying for his father, apologising for the things he did, shutting himself in.

But it wasn't as if she hadn't seen it before. She had seen it a few times before out on the field. Grown men and women panicking, locking themselves away, reliving some of the worst experiences of their life, all the while crying out for someone. Some pushed through such ordeals. Others didn't have such an opportunity for that.

Ayka knew better than to approach him, to try and touch him. It would only scare him more, send him into even more of a frenzy. So, she kept her distance, getting down onto the sand too, and tried calling out to him, in the hopes that maybe, he just might hear her. "Adal, listen to me. Adal, you're safe. You're with me, Ayka, out in the deserts of Rivienne. You're safe, Adal, I promise."

 

[Orikanyo]

Adalbrecht

Breathe, breathing, he wasn't before.

The waters, they caved the walls around him, destroying the prison and...

Now he was...

"...You're with me, Ayka, out in the deserts of Rivienne. You're..."

A... A voice...? Ayka...? Who..? What was Ayka?

His eyes opened and looked for the source of the voice, finding it in a girl with dark hair, dusky skin and a pleasant face... This brought him back, feeling the warm sands around him, the air kissed by the scent of the waters nearby the brief hum of a nearby insect fluttering between stray blades of grass... The light of the stars above him... The inky sweet dark velvet between them... He knew that constellation above them, it looked like a cauldron? No a pot?

The overflowing pot of water, giver of succor, sower of the great river, the seed from which they stem.

The stars... His weary eyes stared up at them as his body uncurled itself, turning flat upon his back, breathing slowed and calming.

"...I... I am home again..." his eyes drying slowly, his heart finally coming down. "Sand... To think i'd miss it.." a grasping hand took up a clump, allowing it to slip from his metal covered hand, a hand that gave way to the eyes seeing Ayka... A true beauty to behold, he had seen her many times in the prison, but only here does the sight of her halt his breath once more. For a moment he only stared, with the same eyes taking in the stars he beheld her...

he blinked, then twice before shaking his head. "...Umm.. I..." he rose to sit, clearing his eyes from tears, then again from sand... And once again from the more stubborn sand.

"Where are we...?"

Arcanist

 

[Takumi98]

Vivian Grivois | Lyari Morcant | Ashe Starvos
As Lanthane told her to rest in response to her question, She hesitated a moment before nodding and let her head rest on his shoulder with a sigh that caused her shoulders do drop. She listened to the sounds around for a moment, before swallowing and letting the words leave her now before they faded in the void of her mind, of her memory.

"I...saw my mother. When I was...out. It felt like, like a memory? A memory that dragged on like a dream." She spoke up, brows furrowing as she tried to explain in some way. Tried to make sense of it somehow.

"Have you ever seen your mother, in a dream?" She asked after a moment of hesitation, unsure on if asking would bring up unwanted emotions or memories from her brother. She was told that her brother had been close to his mother before she had passed at one point when she was barely reached her own mother's knees.

She wondered if Lanthane could even remember his mother's face? She remembered her's, but she feared that one day she wouldn't be able to.

Sun kissed skin, dark blonde almost brown hair, light hazel eyes she could never tell if they were a shade of green or almost golden honeyed brown, and full lips always curved in a smile or knowing smirk. A soothing voice that could always put her at ease. Soft yet firm hands, calloused from handling a sword.

In morbid sense, it was funny how a sword didn't do much for her when she likely needed it.

Vivian frowned at that bitter thought, deciding to shove that specific thought into a dark corner to rot.

"Brother? What now?...where are the rest?" She asked softly, contemplating closing her eyes to sleep yet not wanting to let the darkness claim her. She didn't see the other nobles in her current field of vision, and giving a slight turn of her head the prisoners that had surrounded her once unconscious form blocked most of her view, even so she wasn't in the mood to move much. Too cold and tired to do so, she simply let her brother's warmth settle and sooth her for the time being.

Vivian knew once day came, the heat would be unbearable, and food was something they'd have to worry about. If what she had heard earlier shortly as she came to from the watery inky black before surfacing into full conciousnes was correct, then they didn't have to worry too much about water other than having anything to carry it in before even attempting to trek through the desert.

Arcanist InsaneAsylum The Black Knight Orikanyo King Crimson

 

[Arcanist]

The Jungle of Embers

Pepsionne , Misuteeku , Shadow Dancer , RageFactorXIII

​

The crippled serpentine had every hope of getting closer to Sheridan and to sink those multiple rows of teeth into her, but that blasted barking puppet only got in the way, sinking its own teeth into the creature’s tail. It screeched at the puppet, throwing itself around so to throw the puppet off its tail, even swatting its tail back and forth with the puppet still holding on in an attempt to throw it off. Needless to say, the puppet was doing its job as Sheridan cast her spell.


It wasn’t long before even it knew there was something very wrong. The dark circle formed underneath the serpent with hands grabbing it from all angles, dragging it down into the circle. It screeched, wriggling and trying to snap at the hands, but when he had disabled one, several more only appeared in its place. Claws sunk past into its flesh, ripping off scales, disabling it further. Where once it had the fight in it, now, it was growing weaker, its constitution failing and the creature turning into a weak, maligned, black-blooded mess. It wouldn’t take much more to kill it.

Though the sight of a flapping winged monstrosity would have been frightening to anyone, anyone with a keen eye would have seen the creature was beginning to become frightened. What they once had believed was prey with their weapon stuck in its wings, surrounded by prey who had become hunters of the creature, had scared it, and only made it thrash around in its flight even more.

The pain of the kama head stuck within the creature’s wing only made it more frenzied. It would fight in a more frenzy fashion as a result, making its flying and its movements far less precise.

It hadn’t helped that suddenly, an arrow was loosened, cutting through the air at speed, pushing at the wound where the weapon was still lodged. The adrenaline in its body, fight or flight in which it chose the former, only focused on getting the weapon and the noble off its wing. Flapping its wing terribly and veering off to the side constantly, it seemed like a struggle to get the noble off, and a very dizzying experience for the Crane noble.

It was then it decided it would drag the human along the ground instead, the last resort to ditch him. Though, just as it had moved to do so, it felt a powerful gust of wind, much stronger than it had felt in its several flights before, back up into the air, and propelling it backwards. It shrieked this time, feeling the weapon slide from its wing, with blood dancing on the air as both the human and weapon became dislodged. Before it could make sense of what was happening, its body slammed into a nearby tree trunk, bones shattering, lungs punctured in the process. It slid down the tree trunk, struggling for breath, finding difficulty in being able to move. It struggled, of course, as a needs of survival, but it seemed the worst of the nobles’ problems ended with the winged creature.

The last of the creatures proved the only big problem for the nobles - the last serpentine creature. Of course, it had bitten into Hibiki’s side, leaving some tangible marks for the man to deal with. Though, the creature itself had sustained injuries itself, causing it to screech. The scales, though providing much protection for it for most of the fight, were beginning to break, blood bleeding through the cracks as its flesh was scored.

It had backed off from Hibeki, seeking to recover as Naoko had begun healing him. The serpentine was clearly outnumbered, but it wouldn’t admit it. Fear began to seep in, and the serpentine, an odd bit of behaviour from the creature, reeled on its hind legs, screeching at Hibeki, before it started that similar retching action from earlier. The same action that produced the black webbing, only, this time, it ran towards him as it spewed its black gunk, a last-ditch attempt to catch Hibeki in its maws for good.

 

[Arcanist]

Gerran Perall | Lanthane Grivois | Ayka Galani
Interactions: Takumi98 , Orikanyo | Mentions: -

​

It had taken time, as it always did with people suffering from this kind of trauma, for Adalbrecht to return to Rivienne’s sands. All that mattered was that he did. She had been quiet then, to give him some time to readjust to his surroundings. She listened to his breathing rebalance itself, watched his body loosen up, and simply gave him space and time.

Rushing him may only spook him after all.

Though, when she looked up to see if he was ready to speak and return fully to reality, Ayka caught him staring at her. At first, she had thought he was still in his trance. But she noticed he was much more focused than that. Eerily more focused, and yet, she hadn’t thought to break her stare back into those bright blues…

Well, until he was the first to break away, awkwardly wiping tears from his eyes. Ayka broke off her gaze too, shifting in the sand and clearing her throat with just as much of an awkward aura. She looked back to Adalbrecht though with a small smile before she explained the situation.

“We landed out here, near an oasis after the prison was flooded. I’d say we’re far from the city,” Ayka said, though, looking around her, only to be met by rolling dunes of sand. “Though, I can’t say for sure which direction another town is in…” Pinpointing exactly where they were would have been difficult, otherwise, they could have started looking for another town to settle in. At least, until they had to flee again.

Lanthane looked to her sister again, pondering her words. It wasn’t uncommon for someone you knew to show up in your dreams, or even someone that you had seen before. Perhaps his sister’s mind had turned to comfort with the chaos quite literally sweeping them away.

He tried not to stiffen at Vivian’s question. The answer was yes, he had seen his mother’s face in his dreams, a few times. But it was never how he was meant to remember it. He either never saw her face, or if he did, it was beyond recognition. Pallid skin, bloodshot eyes, swollen cheeks as if stung by a giant hornet, purple, bulging veins...he never saw his mother like that, no, never. He had heard what he looked like after the poison took hold. It was enough to sully the image of his mother in his young mind.

He had held onto other pieces of his mother, like her voice. But even now, it had long since faded away.

“Yes,” Lanthane finally answered, forcing a smile. “I have. And I...always miss her terribly,” he told her honestly. It was not untrue. What was untrue, was that Lanthane never remembered her true face. He deeply regretted that.

Next, came a more difficult question, one that he couldn’t answer, or at least, lie to her about. Lanthane glanced to his retainer, hoping that he would have some sort of answer for the both of them. He frowned though as Gerran subtly shook his head. Even he wasn’t aware of what had happened to the other royal Grivois sprogs that seemed to pop up all over the city.

Or perhaps he knew as well as Lanthane that if they weren’t in the prison with them, then perhaps a far worse fate had befallen them.

Lanthane swallowed, looking back to Vivian as Gerran rose, approaching some prisoners that had needed some immediate aid. “I’m not sure,” he sighed, though, rather than worry her with such things, he simply smiled, and reassured her, “but I find it hard to believe that some our siblings simply upped and disappeared on us. They’re as loud and boisterous as me. We’re sure to meet some of them along the way, while we figure out our next route.”

Though, all the while, that familiar cold chill crept up his back, whispering in his ear and brushing past his neck like an affectionate feline.

The feeling that he was utterly and entirely alone.

 

[King Crimson]

Lady Clarabella of Gavenia
​

Of course, Clara shouldn't have expected Lockheed to listen to any of her inquiries, let alone answer them with anything but the most ridiculous expression she had ever bore witness to, but what truly appalled her was the response Locke finally did give, only coming after she'd offered him payment.
So, revolting, so vulgar!
And to a lady, no less!
About a lady, no less!
Even worse, was how he so blithely defiled her pristine, golden locks with his filthy, calloused mandibles!
It was enough to leave Clara trembling, her face beet-red as he waltzed by with nary a care in the world.
However, that wasn't going to last long, Clara's exasperated pout twisting into a crooked, menacing grin.
He had exposed his belly to her, his poor choice of wording giving her a golden opportunity, which she was fully intent on capitalizing upon.
"One mission, you say?" she coyly began, turning towards the trio.
"Very well then, Sellsword. It will be your honor... to escort her royal highness, and myself safely to our respective homes. Surely, that should be within your capabilities..."
With the faintest hints of a smirk on her face, she bemusedly adds, "...Or is the Great Lockeheed incapable of attending to young, fair maidens?"

"But before that..." with but a single motion, she tore off yet another one of her priceless buttons, this time opting to deliver it by sending it hurtling towards the side of the dragoon's empty skull as she passed them by.
"...You may assist in scavenging the oasis for supplies, and then have them sent to me to be rationed amongst our camp."
Satisfied with her performance, and not wanting to give her new associate the chance to expose her to yet more of his barbaric behavior, Clara hurriedly shuffles away from the group, with a parting, "...Now good day, sir."

Interacting: Lockeheed/Shaia/Hiro The Black Knight

 

[Pepsionne]

Yui | Ryuichi
Jungle of Embers​

Yui watched with wide eyes as one of the serpents, just barely holding on to life, lunged forward at the members of the Rat clan. The healer was already fixing up wounds on the noble who was directly lined up with the maws of the creature. He wouldn’t be able to take another blow, not without dire consequences on their end.

She blinked once, the world around her seemingly grinding down into a slow, churning motion. Without thinking, her feet rocketed themselves forward, running towards the creature and the noble threatened to be ensnared in a mess of sharp teeth. Her sword was unsheathed in a flash of metal. Yui slid forward on the mud of the jungle floor, her boots dredging up a wake of dirt as it went.

Yui grunted in strain as she held the mouth of the serpent upon her blade. She had made it just in time to catch the chomping jaws on her sword. The sound of sharpened bone clanking on metal filled her ears in a clamoring chaos. She tried pushing the sword back, hoping to slice the serpent’s skull through its mouth, but its jagged teeth prevented the blade from running back smoothly. Yui was left playing tug of war, maneuvering the sword with the movements of the serpent to avoid its mouth from slipping free. The sticky black web that expelled deep from within its throat restricted her movements. She wouldn’t last long once it realized she was just barely keeping up.

Ryuichi was left fumbling at Yui’s sudden bolt into action, struggling to pull his bow and notch an arrow quick enough. It felt like his fingers were fumbling with every piece, the adrenaline affecting movements that were usually nimble.

He notched the bow and breathed deep heaves of air to settle his nerves. The last time he had felt this way was after Yui had rushed forward when they were young, only to be killed as he was left fumbling around, useless.

Ryuichi steadied his gaze on the creature, its body wildly twisting back and forth in an attempt to free itself from Yui’s awkward trap. The tail whipped her body, leaving long red streaks across her flesh. He could see in her face that she was holding back from shrieking in pain. He took in one last breath of the humid jungle air. The tips of his dark hair were dampened with sweat and were beginning to send droplets of it down his face.

He exhaled as he loosed the arrow. It flew through the air in a blur of light. The serpent wiggled its jaw free from Yui before the arrow could reach. It lunged at her, jaws wide and desperate to grab onto flesh, any flesh, it possibly could. The serpent’s sudden movement changed the target of the arrow to the tender part of its neck usually protected by its jaw bone. With it extended out into a lunge, eager to bite, the arrow had no problem slicing through the rubbery flesh.

The creature fell to its side in a wet squelch of a screech. It heaved out shaky breaths, just barely holding onto life. Yui watched, eyes wide, as the creature oozed out blood. She wiped off a tiny bit of splatter from her face.

“Would you like to do the honors?” She turned to Hibiki, washing the fear from her eyes and replacing it with a devious playfulness.

Mentions: RageFactorXIII Itsuo
Interacts: Shadow Dancer Hibiki

 

[Shadow Dancer]

Hibiki took a breath as he steeled himself for further injury and even death as he charged the serpent, as it was about to spit it's sticky mucus. It was a moment before the creature could fire it's slime that the Tiger clan woman charged in and caught it's jaws with her blade, only a breath later it took an arrow to the neck. "Would you like to do the honors?" Came the playful question from the Tiger woman despite the fact she was one slip from death.

Hibiki did not answer immediately instead he changed the trajectory of he blades lowering them, he cleaved through the serpents exposed neck. Hibiki looked around to see the other serpent shredded and the winged creature critically injured. He looked at the Tiger woman with a tired smile his energy spent dancing with the twin serpents, "Thank you" Like that he used his kodachi as a crutch to support his body as he turned and walked towards Naoko.

The attack Seiichi expected never came as the creature's injuries worsened and it tried to shake the Crane samurai off ultimately succeeding, but crashing into a tree and puncturing it's chest with several branches leaving it to weakly struggle. With a weary sigh Seiichi approached the creature and working to avoid it's flailing limbs and with a heavy stab to the chest his sword broke through it's already injured chest and pierced it's heart hastening it's death.

Seiichi found where the Crane samurai landed and walked up to him offering a hand. "I can say you almost single handedly killed that beast. Are you alright?"

Naoko watched Hibiki with worry as he readied himself for another charge, she recognized the steel mask of resolve he put on when he was prepared to die. But just as Hibiki charged, she watched the woman from the Tiger clan charge in immediately catching it's mouth with her sword before it could even use it's sticky mucus then the arrow that came just a moment later landing itself right through the serpent's neck. Hibiki finished the serpent off and hobbled over to Naoko who released a breath she didn't realize she was holding, before readying her supplies to treat Hibiki's injuries and any of the others if they needed it.

Naoko looked at Hibiki who was now in front of her and breathing roughly. Naoko wordlessly gave him a stick to bite down on which he took and placed in his mouth, with that as her que she took some of the paste she stored and after clearing any cloth and leather from around the wound she gently spread the herbal paste over the wound while casting a weak healing spell. Once that was done she took out some cloth from her medical kit and wrapped it around the claw marks. "There that should hold up for the time being, at least if you don't fight anymore. Now eat some of your rations you will need the energy."

Hibiki did not argue, instead he checked the surprisingly intact pouches on his bandolier and fished out a a small square made of grains, nuts, and dried berries and started eating it much to Naoko's satisfaction.

 

[Misuteeku]

Sheridan Sasaki
​

The serpent squirmed and struggled against the otherworldly hands that held it down. Flesh was raked, eaten, and torn into by the demon like hands that manifested from the portal that Sheridan conjured. The struggle proved to be all but successful as the hold of the shadows intensified. "Now suffer!" Sheridan snarled as she thrusted her palms down. Screeching for its life the serpent was slowly absorbed into the shadowlike portal along with the hands. It let out one last cry before a hand grabbed it by its head, effectively shutting its mouth closed, and dragged it deeper into the portal. After consuming the serpent the portal left nothing behind. Only scraps of blood, scales, and flesh remained to tell the the monster had existed.

"Good grief," Sheridan let out a sigh. Wiping the brow with her less soaked parts of her hand, she turned to look for her puppet. Normally the animated dog was supposed to be yapping away at her. Narrowing her eyes, she finally spotted it and... Oh... "No no no no no," The dog was not functioning. Bits and pieces were missing from the puppet, most likely from being slammed into the marshy ground, and above all else it was drenched in water. Water could easily hinder the mechanisms within a puppet if it wasn't water proofed. Unfortunately, the dog puppet was one of her first creations. It had the beginner's mistakes and everything. Sure, she had improved the puppet once she had gotten better at the craft but the design was the still same and amateurish.

"Damn you, Hideaki..." Shaking her head she could only mutter a curse at Hideaki for dying and a silent one for her master. Picking up the dog puppet, she held tightly to herself, and she looked back the group. It seemed like they had dealt with the monsters rather well themselves. Perhaps if her puppet wasn't damage, she would soak in to the feeling of victory. At the very least not all was lost. Aside the bird puppet getting soaked it was still reparable and she had a new specimen to work on. Walking towards the group, she could only say, "I pray that we're still moving, right?" Whatever the case, she must remain focused on her task at hand.

 

[Orikanyo]

Adalbrecht


"Washed away... Hmm.." he hummed softly to himself, standing up from his seat upon the sands. "A river... We came from up river, so it is best we didn't go that way. And down river... If they didn't find us at the crystal, they will be searching there." he eyes turned to the stars once more, clear and now adjusted to the dark around them, his eyes were searching them, as if the salvation was above. "Its almost summer... How long were we locked away? How much had happened...?

Did the church claim all lands..? Or were there still hold outs?

The conflicts of Fuerey... I hope they have better luck in the south..." he had a handful of friends from the lands there, far travellers to be certain. Even during wartime, some risked it all for money, and some were even half decent.

They had such strange way of dress... the fabrics were beautiful.

"I don't know this river just yet, But... if the church isn't stationed there, we could use my home... We don't have much beyond farmers, but food..." He eyes the others. "But..." he scratches his head. "Do.. Do you... Think we can even manage to stay together? they are already at each other's throats..." the meek nobleman bit his lip in worry. "had my father been here he could have rallied them without issue... Maybe they will think I'm stateing my own lands as a choice so I could hide away at home... A thought.. that I cannot say is not on my mind..." he seemed to be half talking to the brunette none to far off.

A woman he turned his attention to once more. "Did Morgan survive?"

Arcanist

 

[The Black Knight]

One mission, you say?

Gods, was she still talking? Locke thought. He cringed up at the heavens before he turned to face Clara with a look of exasperation. Escort them to their respective homes? Locke arched a brow and asked, “And where’s that at?”

He squinted his eyes at her. She thought she was so smart that it was annoying. She cast another button his way that he caught, his face only becoming tighter with irritation. She ordered him and his party gather supplies for her and the camp! Locke’s blue eyes became so wide they nearly appeared to be gleaming. “We’re not your slaves. We don’t need-!”

Hiro and Shaia immediately tackled the dragoon before he could lob the button back at Clara. The monk held him down, while Shaia kept a hand clapped over his mouth. “You want to eat, don’t you? Knowing how much you eat, we’re going to need every button we can get from her coat!”

“The journey has been harsh in your absence. We could use the funds,” Hiro informed.

Locke squirmed and kicked in resistance. Not from that little bitch! he thought.

Shaia turned her nose up at him. “He still stinks.”

She and Hiro made eye-contact and immediately understood each other. Shaia procured the other button from him before they dragged Locke over to the oasis and tossed him in.

“Stay in there and don’t come out until you no longer smell like shit!” Shaia yelled.

“And catch some fish,” Hiro added.

Locke sat up out of the water and glared at his party. They were walking away with the loot. He patted his prison garb, realizing the second button had been taken. “She paid us to get the rations!”

They ignored him. He couldn’t believe this was happening. He plopped back in the water and crossed his arms behind his head. “Somebody send me back to prison,” he grumbled.

Tag: King Crimson

 

[Takumi98]

Vivian Grivois | Lyari Morcant | Ashe Starvos
"I used to believe that she'd come back...when I was told she was gone." Vivian spoke quietly, as if confessing a secret. She spent half a day in denial when told her mother had passed, and then spent hours telling herself that she'd simply come back, would end up like the tales she was told about nobles connected to the crystal. Yet when she didn't, she couldn't get why. At least, at the time she just couldn't answer that question and any other like it.

Why didn't she come back? Why didn't the Queen get to come back when everyone else in the royal family supposedly could?

She had wondered if it was some curse inflicted on her father for him to lose every Queen he took, but never voiced the thought because she didn't want to upset him or her siblings.

"It's not fair, what happened to our mothers. Then again, I suppose it's never fair to anyone for something like that." She mused aloud thoughtfully.

When Lanthane mentioned their siblings, she chuckled. He had a point. Besides, even if there were many in the palace with them, some had opted out of living with them to live among the common folk as far as she knew.

"Mm. I hope they're alright." She replied, even so she was sure they were in hiding and safe for the most part there was still not telling how many of them were left.

"I hope we'll all be alright too." She muttered under her breath as she closed her eyes and sighed.

"Brother, you rest too, okay?" She spoke, on the verge of attempting to nap for at least a few minutes.

Ashe had found himself relaxing slightly as it seemed his charge was going to at least try and sleep. Lyari had quietly cried herself to sleep at his side, and with Vivian still gripping his sleeve even as she leaned on her brother, the ginger was technically stuck kneeling in the sand for now, nostrils flaring in a sigh despite the fondness he held for both young women softening his features slightly. His legs were likely going to be stiff once he moves, but sometimes sacrifices had to be made.

Arcanist

 

[InsaneAsylum]

Chapter 2The Adventure Begins​

It took a couple hours to get everyone on the same page. Stopping the ex-prisoners from trying to finish the last of the prison guards was the hardest part, but with the help of some of the noble's words, she managed it. The group wandered North East. Morgan informed everyone that going West was suicide, and they had a better chance if they found the coast because she knew of a town along it. The journey was grueling, and the desert was unforgiving. Not everyone was able to make it. Morgan talked the entire time, telling war stories. From time to time, the group would stop to rest their legs and make sure they were headed in the right direction. They couldn't stop to sleep though. The desert was cruel to those who were helpless. Morgan understood that and put lots of effort into keeping her rag tag band going. There was more than enough complaining throughout the journey, but eventually, a town came in sight.

Morgan let out a satisfied sigh. "We made it to Capybara Town!"

Now Capybara town wasn't very impressive from the front entrance. It looked like any other village in Rivienne with its basic wooden homes, rocky paths, and a small church near the center of town. However, as the village stretched towards the sea, the village began to look more and more ramshackle, as wooden pathways lines with metal formed what appeared to be another whole village over the salty water. If the nobles knew anything about the history of Capybara town, they'd know that the town was once a bustling port filled with fishermen and naval troops alike. The town could hardly keep up with the growth, so they turned their docks into an extension of the town itself, building housing, a market, and even a couple taverns over the sea.

Unfortunately, Capybara Town was far past it's golden years. The Rivienne Naval forces hadn't visited the town in years, and with the new threat of monsters, fishing was all the more dangerous. Regardless, the townsfolk take pride in being hardy. They don't intend to let the darkborn ruin their livelihoods that easily.

As the group approached the town, armed guards at the front of the town stopped them. "Could smell this lot coming from a mile away? Whaddaya think yer' doin trying to stink up this 'ere town?" The guard asked Morgan, his hand resting on a blade at his side as he scanned the group.

Morgan pushed back her hair, which was a dirty mess. "My name is General Tourbillion and my soldiers and I require food and lodging..." Morgan began, starting up her lie. They had practically no money to spend, and they couldn't admit to being escapees. Her only option was to play her military card and hope for the best. "... we were ambushed by traitors to the church and are lucky to be alive."

The guard's eyes narrowed, and his grip tightened on his sheathed blade.. "I heard General Tourbillion was 'rested for being one of them trai-"

"You heard wrong. Now get us what we need or else the Church will be hearing about your town's treachery. I'm sure they'd be more than willing to punish those who were harboring nobles," Morgan threatened.

The guard grunted angrily. "Fine, follow me. We'll get you all situated 'ere."

The guard led them into the village. The other guards nearby had more than a few comments to make about the group coming in.

 

[King Crimson]

Lady Clarabella of Gavenia ​

It was her family, second only to the Grivois in seniority, who first ventured forth, and tamed the wild lands of Rivienne. It was they who first established their borders, and it was they who defended them so staunchly in the Endless Moon War.
Their blood ran proudly within her veins! And a higher being such as her was all but invincible to the harsh endeavors of the wild Rivienne wastes!

...Is what she would like to tell herself, but in all truth, she was at the end of her rope.
Weeks in the desert had left her once beautiful, silken hair coarse and frazzled, her fair skin sunburned, and freckled with grit, and her delicate feet sore, and bleeding in her boot soles.
Only her pride and the company of her companions kept her trudging forth, especially the niggling feelings she had grown towards their stalwart leader.
The more Clara learned about the Good General Morgan, the more curious she became.
Why would such a revered individual risk their own reputation to come to their aid?
What was she doing at the prison, how did she know where they were kept, and how was she able to plan and execute such a bold rescue operation in such a short amount of time?

Wracking her brain around such questions kept her sanity in tact for the majority of the journey, until eventually, the endless desert sands gave way to the most beautiful, crudely built gate of scrapped together wood and reclaimed metal she had ever laid eyes upon.
Finally! Civilization! Food! Rooves! BATHS!
In her ecstatic delirium, she nearly ran ahead of the party to throw herself into the nearest bathhouse and lay claim to the first real food she'd had in weeks.
...Until the group drew closer, at last giving her a good view of the "civilization" they had found.
Less a village, more a poor hovel of stone, wood and rotting fish arranged in the shape of a dwelling.
A far cry from the elysian fields of Gavenia that she was used to.
Clara's enthusiasm bled out of her within seconds, reducing her back to the miserable whelp she had been prior.


At the village entrance, Morgan parlayed with the local guard, their conversation revealing some small tidbits, about their savior that Clara couldn't help but notice, but eventually ending with the men allowing the nobles their begrudging, and unwitting acceptance.
All except for one.
"Oi," one of the guards interjected, blocking the party's path with a chipped, rusted harpoon, before leveling it at Clara, and the princess and her steward behind her.
"Ain't they a might young t'be soldierin'?"
Clara's blood went cold at the accusation, murmurs of agreement buzzing in the air around them.
Had they really been discovered so soon, the promise of comfort and safety so close within their grasp?
No, she wouldn't allow it. She couldn't. She could not go back to that infernal desert!
"W-We..." Clara managed to stammer out, her already exhausted mind working in overdrive to devise some means of escape.
"We are but refugees, m'lord!" Clara suddenly exclaimed, her voice trembling and fearful.
It was a good thing that she had been taught in the ways of politics and thespianism; she was well versed in the art of putting on airs.
Her tattered prisoner's garb, and disheveled appearance didn't hurt in selling her performance, either.
Gone was Clarabella, the noble young lady. Now, before the men of Capybara Town stood Clara, the poor, misfortunate maiden.
"T-Those awful noble...heretics! They abused us so terribly so! We were but livestock to them! If not for Miss Morgan, who knows what horrors they would have had in store for us!"
In a final gambit to win over the guard's trust, Clara turns to cling herself to the taller princess's body, seeking comfort and safety from the harsh world around them within the warmth of her arms. She casts one last look towards the man, her blue eyes wide, and welling with tears, her voice small, broken, and feeble, "P-P-Please sir..." she begs,
"Y-You wouldn't send us back into the hands of those cruel, cruel men, would you?"

For a moment, the guard looked upon the group, his face scrunching up as though he'd caught a scent of freshly laid dung, before turning his head to the side, and hurling a pungent glob of black-brown spit out from between what remained of his rotten teeth.
"Tch...Damn bluebloods!" he cursed, "Anyone who did 'dat t'my daughter 'd be gutted 'n town square!"
Retracting his spear, the man waves the crowd along, at last acquiescing, "Awright, move along now! Army 'r not, yer blockin' the road!"
Moving along with the party, once she'd felt that she had put a comfortable enough distance between herself and the leery guardsman, Clara allows herself to release a protracted sigh of relief, and return to her normal, haughty posture.
"It seems safety still yet eludes us..." she gravely comments, her voice no more than a subtle whisper to be heard by those close by.
"We have already brought far too much attention upon ourselves. It would be prudent not to ere here for too long."

Interacting:
Lanthane/Ayka/Gerran, Arcanist
Adelbrecht, Orikanyo
Vivian/Lyari/Ashe Takumi98
Lockeheed/Hiro/Shaia The Black Knight
Morgan InsaneAsylum

 

[Takumi98]

Vivian Grivois | Lyari Morcant | Ashe Starvos
Skin tanning in places and becoming sunburned in many others, covered in grit and dust and sand with unkempt wild blonde hair turned dark and almost brown in the desserts dry humidity that caused it to frizz slightly, Vivian had perked when she heard they were nearing a town. And upon hearing it's name she remembered years ago how her and her mother would occasionally sit with a book on all the animals ever recorded in or near Rivienne's borders. She remembered thinking Capybaras were rather cute creatures, but never knew why exactly they were named that way. Or why this placed was named as such when it's main attraction had been fish. She still didn't quite know and currently didn't care about the semantics of it.

When the guards spoke, Vivian's mouth turned down into a frown, not at all liking his tone but after taking a look at the town even from this distance she guess she could understand why he was being such a rude fellow. This likely would of been a town she'd have visited on her pilgrimage eventually. That was before the Church had intervened however.

Her attention snapped to one of the guards when he motioned to Clara, herself, and Lyari with his bayonet her blue green eyes widening slightly at the gesture as if the man might just try and stab her upon finding out the truth. With Clara clinging to her, Lyari had shuffled closer, clinging to her tattered and dirty dress with tight fists as she peaked around the Princess's shoulder almost shyly, having caught on somewhat to Clara's act yet not liking having a weapon pointed at her all willy nilly just as much as Vivian.

Ashe stood behind the girls, but didn't move to intervene, watching and biting the inside of his cheek as his already frayed nerves were being grated on. Tired, sore, and sand covered he wanted to bath, eat, and more importantly sleep knowing his charges could do so without threat from the townsfolk. When allowed to go on, his shoulders eased a fraction, but his guard remained up.

"Proceeding with caution is the most wise choice really. I hope that any other place we pass through isn't as welcoming." Vivian replied just as quietly.

"I hope, if we have to use such an act again it'll work just as well." She added, honestly glad and impressed with the nobles quick thinking. Given their disheveled looks that almost altered their appearances entirely it may also help with gaining some form of pity.

Then again, not many had shown pity with throwing three young women into a prison and proceeding to try and kill them and their companions, but she digressed.

InsaneAsylum Arcanist King Crimson Orikanyo The Black Knight

 

[The Black Knight]

Locke, most of all (out of his party), had been exhausted to anger from the trip. He didn’t like how the blonde runt ( King Crimson ) tried to boss them around, but as the party came before the walls of a town with the dumbest name he had never heard of before, he knew everything was going to pay off. They were contested at the gate, and if it had lasted any longer, Locke might have snapped and wound up back in prison. Hiro’s hand had rested on his shoulder in an attempt to keep the dragoon calm. The sands had reduced them all to the same wear and tear. Sunburnt, chapped, filthy and with blisters. Everyone equally desired respite, and from that mere touch upon his shoulder, Locke understood and managed to restrain himself.

When the guards finally allowed them to pass, the sell sword strode passed the group, marching into the town like he knew what was already there. Every town, no matter the economy, always had one establishment that catered to all the wounded and wearer with its seductive affection. Without looking back, he raised his arm into the air, bidding his employer farewell.

“I’m gettin’ fat, drunk, and fucked tonight. See you all tomorrow,” Locke frankly bade.

Hiro and Shania followed behind barely disturbed by his behavior. They were well accustomed to it.

“I’m going to see what supplies I can get us,” Hiro stated. “I will also procure us a room at the inn…by us, I mean Shania and me. I’m sure I’ll just find you lying in a gutter somewhere.”

Locke flashed a shameless grin back at Hiro. “You know me so well.”

Shania rolled her eyes. “I’m going to see what the night life at the tavern is like. I might be able to get us some extra coin with my songs.”

“Sounds good,” Hiro agreed.

Locke groaned and made a miserable expression. “I forgot you were a bard. In prison, I might have loved to hear your songs, but now…ugh.”

Shania marched up to Locke and punched him in the shoulder. “And that’s why you won’t hear them! Besides…” She smirked impishly, “I wrote a ballad about you.”

Locke’s eyes widened in dread. “No…” he breathed as though the shock had sapped his lungs of air.

“Mhm…I wrote it while you were in prison. But don’t worry, I won’t sing it to you. I’ll sing it to everyone else.”

Locke held a fist up to Shania and threatened, “You better not!”

Shania rested her chin upon his knuckles and childishly stuck her tongue out at him, “Nyeh~!”

“All right, children…” Hiro grumbled. “Not tonight. I’m too tired.”

Lowering his fist, Locke shot smartly back at Hiro, “Not too tired to go shopping.”

The fox frowned and stated firmly, “If I don’t do it, who will?”

Both Locke and Shania looked at each other with raised brows before their eyes turned away from the monk.

“That’s what I thought,” Hiro said. “You two have a goodnight and try not to get into too much trouble.”
InsaneAsylum Arcanist Orikanyo

 

[Arcanist]

Chapter 3
The Cleansing
Miyaori Village

Pepsionne , Misuteeku , Shadow Dancer , RageFactorXIII​

After the group of Feurey nobles took some brief time to recuperate and to reflect on their sudden attack, they resolved to keep moving forward through the Jungle of Embers, lest they be caught there in the middle of the night. Being there during the day was bad enough, but to be stuck there with little means of resources, like light, food, water, would only spell disaster for them all.

What other creatures they encountered on the way they would have either scared or finished off with relative ease. There were a few predators in the Jungle, of course, but most had been animals who minded their own business or gave passing glances to the travellers moving through their home.

By the time the sun was beginning to set at the end of that long day, they were on the path towards Miyaori Village. Surprisingly, the village wasn’t so far from the Jungle of Embers. They could practically see its beautiful, orange lights fluttering in the distance, warping the pinkening evening sky around. Though, instead of similarly pinkened cotton-candy clouds, there was a sea of black smoke hovering on the horizon...and a burning smell that carried right towards them.

When they would inevitably reach the village, they were met with a horrifying sight.

​

The sound of screams, cries of anguish, in amongst raging fires rising like a powerful phoenix. Thatched houses were being pulled apart, resources like food scattered, dead animals lying dormant, eyes wide and full of terror. In amongst them all were men and women, coated in the colours of fire, whether armoured or leathered. Most carried weapons, others long torches thrown towards homes to stoke the fires of the village.

"N-no, please!"

A woman cried, backing away on her back. An armoured figure followed nonchalantly with a bloody blade. The woman looked behind her to find the armoured figure's cohorts surrounding her, and she paused in her terror. She looked to the armoured figure once again, beginning her pleas, "Spare me! Please! I'm no--"

The woman gasped, listening to the sound of piercing flesh. She looked down to the blade pierced through her stomach. Her lips quivered as he parted them, attempting to continue her plea, only for blood to trickle over her lips and chin. Her body jutted and she gave a choked cry as the blade retracted. Her head fell backwards and she started choking, staring up at the sky, beginning to still.

​

Her murderer lingered over her body for a moment. She regarded the blank, bloody expression that remained on the dead woman's face before she cast her gaze ahead. She stepped over the body, flicking the blood away from her katana. The Samurai's figure was as akin to a shadow against the orange light of the fires cast upon the village. Her gaze was fixed on the flames; a figure of authority, devotion, duty. No scream could faze her, no plea could distract her, no gory end to a human's life could convince her to give up her goals. The flames had changed that long before for her.


"Yes..." Umeko spoke with a strange, calm tone in her voice. There was something erratic about the way she spoke, unstable... No one would have seen it for the helmet of her former master masked it, but her eyes twinkled at the sight of the flames licking up everything around them. "Only fire can wash away such pestilence...yes..." She muttered to herself, the pride eminent in amongst the strange sound of her. Their work here was almost complete. Another village cleansed once again, another beacon of the Everlasting Flame lit across Feurey for all the Clans to witness.

"Shiratori-sama! Travellers!"

The Samurai did not flinch at the call of the archer. She instead slowly turned to face the entrance of the village, staring ahead at the Feurey nobles who had unwittingly walked in on them. She held up a fist, a signal to her loyal soldiers to hold their fire and stand down for the time being. She began moving towards the entrance, slow, meandering as if she hadn't a care in the world. She stopped some distance away from the nobles, quiet, imposing in her stance. She then cocked her head. In that same, unsettling voice, she asked them this.

"Have you come to join the cleansing?"

 

[Orikanyo]

Adalbrecht, the guy who is being written for by a shitty no good lazy ass writer.

The sight of civilization.. if.. A small.. Unassuming.. town... was still a welcome sight nonetheless!

And it seems, after some.. Clever convincing... the group managed to get in, though.. Once the people around them had mentioned it... he... Could feel the scent wafting from him... he.. sincerely.. needed to clean himself... And his clothes... Really.. what did they wash themselves out of the privvy...?

...

Wait... it...

it may be possible that they did, infact, colide with...

...Waste water....

His stomache churned again, his form clutching tightly to not dry heave any more of his stomache contents onto the ground. Lest they get expelled from the town for possibly carrying disease..

All they had to do was go to a INN, get a nice turn in the baths and... Wait...

"..Does... Anybody have... Money?" he asked the question that all but executed his hopes for succor from this village... "...I doubt any of these people would do anything for us without it... Lest we bereft ourselves of our meager possessions." he notes, looking at the soiled garments he wore, armor caked in... Things he'd rather not think about right now. "if... if truely needed my sword... it can ensure some of us are fed... I am worthless as a combatant...It may be best..." his sullen look paled over him once more as he regarded the group to sacrifice his meager offerings.

@ rivienne squad present still

 

[Arcanist]

Gerran Perall | Lanthane Grivois | Ayka Galani
Takumi98 , Orikanyo , The Black Knight , King Crimson , InsaneAsylum

​

As much as many of them were willing to stay put in the one sandy spot forever, they were forced to move onward. Loyal church vassals would be on their tails soon enough, and the last thing any of them needed was to be caught with their trousers hanging around their ankles in the middle of the desert. The option of fleeing West had been shut down by Morgan, who insisted they needed to travel to Capybara Town, along the coast.

Lanthane was practically dragging his heels through the whole journey. He hardly needed to travel so far. The most walking he had done was around Grenouille, either from a harlot’s bed or Nanoo’s shop back to the palace. This was gruelling. The heat was unforgiving. His clothes were practically drenched, and his curls were losing all manner of oomph that he usually pampered into it. By the Goddess, he’d need a good long shave too. A couple of times along the way, his legs buckled, and out of spite and refusal to return home to the Crystal, he rose onto his legs again, and kept going. He’d gone delirious at one point, muttering something about needing Gerran’s bulging strong arms to carry him onward…the knight did not grace that delirium with an answer.

Gerran and Ayka faired easier, but still struggled just as much along the way. Ayka had the resolve from travelling far in her exploits as part of the platoon of White Mages deployed to war, but even she grew tired, and moaned about how sore her feet had been. Gerran had flashbacks to days he had to travel back and forward to other towns, trading their livestock for meagre rations of food or water. He remembered carrying Sosola on his back when she couldn’t handle the walk anymore on the way home. Gerran had almost been tempted to ask Ayka if she needed his aid.

There should have been an outpour of relief or celebration at coming across the town. But the exhaustion – of the heat, of the physical and mental toll – had simply drained all of them.

“What a dump…” Lanthane muttered, rubbing at his eyes and wincing. Was that…sand? In his eye?

Fuck the Church and their coup.

Ayka didn’t even have the energy to hit Lanthane and demand he apologise for saying such awful words. If anything, even she found the town to be anti-climatic on their long and arduous journey. “At least it’s not…more sand…” She sighed, desperate to sit down, but sitting down now would only mean having to get back up again.

Gerran tried to keep his wits about him. They would have to be careful with what they said here. Should anyone tip off anyone else about the recent seizing of power from the Church, or of their…elevated status, they could find themselves in more danger than they could imagine.

As General Morgan demanded suitable lodgings for the group, he watched as the Lady Clarabella weaved a tragic story for one of the guards. Poor refugees, spinning the yarn about horrible nobles who worked and worked the masses. They would grind the poor under their freshly polished boots, push them further into the dirt so that they could rise no further.

It was a great shame that this was a common story, one that never got so much as an acknowledgement.

He truly detested nobles. Not all, but many.

Gerran put his hand upon the shoulder of one he did come to like, and looked at him. Naturally, he seemed hurt by the slanders been thrown around about nobles, yet, Gerran knew the young man understood the reasoning behind them.

“Think little of it,” he advised, warning him not to make a big deal out of it.

Lanthane heaved a sigh before muttering, “I need a drink.” And a bath. And a bed. And a woman. Though, he wasn’t sure really what order he would pursue all of these things in. The call from Locke only further made him eager to indulge himself, after weeks of being imprisoned and being forced through the desert.

Though, then came the topic of money.

“Crap,” Ayka muttered, rubbing her forehead. “Of course. They’re not just going to give everything to us for free…” Just when she thought she would be able to get a good clean. The stink off herself – and the rest of them for that matter – was beginning to make her eyes water…else that was just the exhaustion. She was tempted to go and bathe in the waters of the port.
Wouldn’t that be a sight for them all?

Gerran turned to Ayka before patting around his belt. He unhooked a pouch, its contents tinkling, before gesturing for Ayka to hold out her hands. “It isn’t much,” Gerran told her, pouring out some of the contents. “I trust you to use it for yourself and the others in the best way possible.”

“And what about you?” Ayka asked with a frown.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ve suffered worse.”

“Gerraannn,” Lanthane called with a whine, tugging at his arm like a child. “Drinks! We deserve it!”

The last of the gold would be used to keep Lanthane docile. With any luck, he’d be asleep after a drink or two. Usually he wasn’t so easily handled under the influence, but days of thirst and hunger were sure to send him into a sleep.

If not, more drinks. For the price of his brogue buckles.

But they would have to be removed when he was more cooperative.

“As you so wish…” Gerran paused, almost calling him ‘milord’ out of habit.

 

[Takumi98]

Vivian Grivois | Lyari Morcant | Ashe Starvos
Vivian's nose scrunched at Locke's rather...vulgar statement as he left, and Lyari's brows rose slightly as she watched him walk away. That was one way to announce your exit.

"Miss Nana; what do you Miss Leyli, and Miss Sonya plan on doing?" Ashe asked, glancing first to Vivian, then Clara and Lyari as he addressed each girl. Nana was the name of the old family dog from his childhood, but he knew his charge wouldn't be upset with such information if it ever came up. Ashe didn't know if news of the Princess' attempt at a pilgrimage had reached this far out before she had been caught, nor did he know how far outside of the capital even knew what she looked like at all. Even so, he wasn't going to risk it, figuring that if those outside of the capital only knew of the Princess or even their Prince by name alone it'd work to their advantage.

Vivian gave the question some thought before glancing to both Clara and Lyari.

"Well, they have to have a bath house or something like that, right? Do you think they'd let us use it without much fuss? Also..." She muttered, before clutching her stomach with a pout as it growled.

"Walking for so long in the sun without food makes me feel a bit woozy." She admitted. How she missed actual food. Even if it was a simple fish dish from this place it'd be better than what they were forced to eat before.

Ashe gave a thoughtful hum as he unhooked a rather small pouch from his belt and took a few coins from it.

"I don't think they'd demand too high a payment, or any, for food from three young women who are refugees in the care of General Tourbillion, but still if they do and you absolutely have to if the story doesn't hold tight tell them you were only given so much out of what was left of our supplies that was stolen." He replied, voice quiet so only those in their group could hear. Vivian nodded in her understanding.

"We won't have to share a bath house all at once will we? We're all kind of...stinky." Lyari mumbled, causing Vivian to giggle under her breath at the suddeness of the question.

"I hope not, Miss Sonya." Ashe replied with a frown, knowing that if anything the women and men would go as two seperate groups if there was even a bath house big enough for it. The place was so much of a dump that it wasn't even worth getting their hopes up, and even then he would rather take a dip in the port than be crowded into a room with other men who also smelled as disgusting as he felt.

InsaneAsylum Arcanist King Crimson Orikanyo The Black Knight

 

[Shadow Dancer]

After a smooth but irritating walk, Hibiki, Naoko and Seiichi were all equally relived to exit the god forsaken swamp. Looking to the horizon the group saw the orange glow of the setting sun, but instead of soft pinks and purples thick black smoke hung in the sky. As they approached a grim symphony of panicked screams, and roaring fires accompanied the smell of smoke and the dead. A village woman begged for mercy but was ignored as an imposing samurai dressed in heavy black armor towered over her and in a calm smooth motion impaled the villager. The orange glow of the fires danced on the black armor, paired with the screams it was like a demon had crawled out of hell and went on a rampage.

Naoko trembled and hid behind her companions clenching Hibiki's sleeve. She seen the lives of many snuffed out during the attack by the Tiger clan, but everyone was a combatant there. But here, these people were mercilessly killing villagers whom at most fought off the occasional wolf. This was the first time she had witnessed such a senseless massacre, and it terrified her. Naoko looked to Hibiki as if hoping he could make sense of the madness but he only looked at her and solemnly shook his head.

"Yes... Only fire can wash away such pestilence... yes..." The way she spoke was calm and filled with a frightening fanaticism that made Hibiki's hair stand on end

Seiichi put a hand on his blade as his muscles tightened. "Not now Seiichi." Hibiki pointed out the lookout shouting for a Shiratori, "they know we are here." It was not long till the black figure signaled her subordinates to stand down and casually walked their way. Seiichi forced his hand away from his blade at Hibiki's insistence.

When the black armored woman was a stone throw away just out of lunging distance she spoke to the group, "Have you come to join the cleansing?" It was a simple and nicely asked question but to Hibiki it felt as if she just asked if they wanted to die Hibiki looked at the mismatched group of nobles as if begging them to not do anything stupid keeping his look on the Crane samurai and Seiichi for a moment longer then the rest knowing they carried a huge sense of justice that just could get them all killed.

Hibiki felt it unwise to approach so he decided to reply right there hoping he could talk his way out of this and they could maybe get some information and be on their way. Hibiki "I'm afraid we have not heard of such. You see, we have traveling through the swamp for some time now and have not had the chance to learn about much of current event. We were hoping to visit a local village to learn of current events, rest and restock on supplies before continuing on." Hibiki kept his turbulent emotions in check as he spoke thanking his speech tutors for their hard work that paid off in times like this.

 

[King Crimson]

Lady Clarabella of Gavenia ​

"Hmph, very well. You've earned your libations." Clara dismissively scoffed at the dragoon, her eyes rolling derisively in her skull, and her arms crossed across her chest
Normally, she would be aghast at such unseemly behavior. but the desert sun, the grinding sands, and several weeks spent in his grating presence had left her raw, tired and all-together numb to his antics.
"Just be sure not to do anything to incur the wrath of the townspeople. You're of little use to us hanging at the end of a rope." she chides, almost as a mother would her son, before turning her attention towards the man's companions.
In weeks' past, she'd found them far more agreeable, and easily managed than their noble compatriot; the Feureian, in particular, seemed to play the role of arbiter and mediator between the two others, a herculean, but welcomed task, given their incessant bickering.
As for the archer, she had skill with a bow to match the most prideful of Clara's cousins, but she far excelled them in resourcefulness and cunning. And while she lacked the blood of those nobly born, she was at least cultured enough to, at times, be a source of some conversation, mostly in the realms of archery, theatre or humorous anecdotes of Lockeheed's past escapades.
If only she could determine what horrid curse of the mind possessed her to follow behind that beast of a man!
"Miss Shania, a moment, if you could...!" Clara called out, quickly striding over to intercept the minstrel before she could disappear into the heart of the ramshackle town.
Let it be said by any merchant, thief, diplomat and layman, "If the parliament, where lords and lawmen gather, was the brain of the town, and the church and it's body it's soul, then it's heart could only be at tavern, where they would all unite to drink, speak, and make merry."
In other words, a prime spot to gather information, one which Clara was unfortunately barred from, due to her young age.
Running close to Shania's side, lowering her voice back to a hushed whisper, "...In service to both our interests, I would ask that you keep your ears open to any information that may be of use during your performance. It would do us well if we were to learn the movements of any pursuers, or of any potential allies to our cause."
With a small, faint smile, she adds, "...And perhaps, you may later indulge me with your latest 'ballad', I would be ever so thankful."

With her dysfunctional trio of hired swords now left to their own devices within the squalid town, Clara was now free to move on to far more important matters; namely food lodging, and the means to acquire them.
Putting a hand to her chin in thought, she quietly dug through her amassed knowledge of country law, musing to herself, "Normally, we would be allowed free quarter and commons under the banner of the kingdom's army, but for that, we would need writ from either the crown or from a high military commander...One of which is now defunct..."
Casting an accusative glance towards the general to her side, she adds, "...and I suspect the other is not going to be handed to us any time soon."
For the first time in a long while, Adalbrecht spoke up, offering his own sword as payment for lodgings.
After their tumultuous escape from the underground prison, something had...changed within the once brave knight, reducing him to the quivering shell that now stood before her.
It pained her to watch him suffer so much from the simple act of existing.
Wherefore, was that man who reveled in the destruction he wrought? Who dove so valiantly into his enemies' swords? Who was one of the first to offer his bloodied hand to her in comradery?
She did not know, but in a sense, she found herself yearning for his return.
"That will not be necessary, Sir Knight" she replied to him, her voice soft, supportive.
"Remember, we are as soldiers and refugees. A soldier does not discard his blade so readily, not when it may still be needed."
...And I will hope against hope that it shall not be... she thought to herself, the visions of death and suffering she and her comrades had wrought and seen drawing a pained shudder from her being.

At last, the group managed to muster up a small sum of gold, enough to earn them a night's sleep at the inn, a bath and perhaps a few basic foodstuffs, by Clara's estimation.
It was equally ironic and humiliating, that they would be provided for by their own servants. Her caste were supposed to provide coin, food and shelter, not the other way around.
Nevertheless, she stomached her indignation, chiming in, "I may be able to mitigate our costs somewhat, if my learnings in mercantilism and diplomacy are of any worth. And as was demonstrated, while the men here are of hardy bearing, they seem taken quite easily by tales of fantasy, should they be told convincingly enough."
A fact that has her and her companions in this predicament in the first place, she noted to herself, that guard so easily convinced those of noble birth capable of such evil, fed by the church's malicious slander, no doubt.
"Hopefully, there will be not be needs for me to be as...improper... with Her Highne--Err, Miss Nana in the process." Clara adds with a small, embarrassed cough, the memory of her performance, and the princess's compliments thereafter bubbling up to the surface to paint her cheeks and ears a faint shade of pink.



Interacting:
Lanthane/Ayka/Gerran, Arcanist
Adelbrecht, Orikanyo
Vivian/Lyari/Ashe Takumi98
Lockeheed/Hiro/Shaia The Black Knight
Morgan InsaneAsylum

 

[Orikanyo]

Adalbrecht

The words of the smaller noble woman were... Comforting? Oh how he wished he could toss it all away and hide away at home till this all blew over... A soldier... He guessed thats what he was to be now... He wondered softly how many men feared conflict like he did?

...But he.. He haf to stay strong, for now at least! One needn't be couragous all the time! Just when it was needed!

Don't worry father! I'll do you proud and carry the Cocksburrow name strongly!!

...

From the sidelines and maybe treading very lightly.

"O-okay... Y-es of course." He corrected himself to at least somewhat look the part of a soldier... Or at least a young man trying his best to be one. He only hoped he wasn't recognized for who he was any time soon...

"...I hope you all do not mind if... I excuse myself to get clean." He pauses in his words, looking around as if he were seeing if anyone was actually listening to him, at all. "Then... Then I think we should... Sojourne for dinner...

My father oft told me a man doesn't think well on an empty stomache...

...Were I able I would like to make my own dishes... But I doubt I would be availed of a kitchen... Or supply..." he blushed lightly, wondering if any were listening to his words, he was tqlking to much! Zip it! No one needs to know of your foolish cookery.

"I- will be going now... If you will excuse me..." he decided to yry and escape before he made a worse display of himself.

In truth, he looked like a dog running with its tail between it'a legs.

@ those present

Heading towards baths.