Fantasy As the World Burns

[Juju]

• Lake
• Ruins
• Flanks
• Frontlines
• ???

• 
  ThatWhichShouldBe November Witch
  “Ah, poor Shem… he has been like this since what happened to the old temple.” Toko said, her eyes darkening at the mention of what must be the Three-Rivers temple she had mentioned earlier.
  
  She blinked back a look of astonishment at Han’s mention of visions, “You were granted the Sacred Sight by the Great Life Spirit? When a person is granted such things they are given the title of Seer and charged with the duty of interpreting the Life Spirit’s will. There is a seer who lives at this temple. Her name is Haavi. Perhaps she can help you interpret it?”
  
  After Toko explained the process of visions and seers, she seemed to notice that she was still cradled in Han’s arms. Embarrassment flushed across her face as she quickly squirmed free and stood back on her own two feet.
  
  She turned her back to Han and with the orb still held in her hands, she glanced up at the floating islands in renewed wonder. She didn’t respond to Han’s question for a moment, lost in her own thoughts and muttering things under her breath.
  
  Finally, she caught ear of Han’s questions and turned around, a little surprised, “Shem and I have swum in the lake several times, yet we haven't met any spirit nor seen these islands. They must have been buried deep below the mud. I haven’t seen anything like this before.”
  
  She looked at Han for a moment, her mind recalling another part of his question.
  
  “The eye? Yes, it doesn’t belong here. It is the sacred treasure of Three-Rivers. The priests were charged with keeping it from harm…” she trailed off, eyes cast downward, “Forgive me. It is difficult to discuss.”
  
  By now the watery vortex had slowed, fading slowly away to drop down in cascades from the suspended islands. As the veil of water thinned, the form of the blue wyvern could
  
  The blue wyvern swooped low, circling around the cluster of islands. Due to its size, it could not safely fly to the island that Han and Toko were on, and thanks to the way the islands scattered, they would be safe from its deadly flames. As for the rider, that was a different story.
  
  His sword fell first, wreathed in an azure flame that sliced through the water and struck down upon the island harboring Han and Toko. Then the knight landed, the weight of his armour clattered down on the stones.
  
  He plucked his sword from the ground and pointed it towards Han and Toko, “Surrender the arcane keystone and you may yet keep your lives.”
  
  While the knight confronted the two, his wyvern continued to circle the mass of floating islands. Autumn would be able to clearly see it circling above the lake, waiting like a carrion bird for any command from its master.
  
• 
  seasonedcat
  The knight hardly noticed VVitch run off after the creature and its pack. Her focus was only on her wounded wyvern, and on Zareth whom she had placed her hopes on. She glanced at him through the visor of her helmet, eyes intense. Blue irises glowed faintly in the darkness of her helm, broken up by two serpentine pupils.
  
  “Then check it quickly,” Ser Taenirah said sternly, her gauntlets soaked in her wyvern’s blood. While she tried to press the wound, it was clear that there was little she could do.
  
  She anxiously waited for Zareth’s response, watching expectantly as Zareth flipped through his spell tomb. When he finally found some sort of solution, she was quick to cooperate and helped him to lift her wyvern’s wing up. Once the wound had been coated in ice, she breathed a sigh of relief.
  
  “That should hold for now. He just needs time for his blood to clot.” The knight stated, backing off from the wyvern’s wound. She shook the blood from her gauntlets, then glanced down to notice that her own blood was leaking from under her armour.
  
  Ser Taeirah stood up fully and shook her head at Zareth’s request to mend her wounds, “That won't be necessary. I’ve survived worse. Save your magics for Baelarys.”
  
  She paused, listening.
  
  “He is grateful for your help.” Taenirah said, referring to the wyvern, “As am I. For all your help. I’m not sure if we might have made it out if not for you and…”
  
  Only now did the knight notice the absence of VVitch, “Where did your companion go?”
  
  She turned back and looked to Zareth, watching as he struggled to seat himself on the ground let alone remain conscious. She placed a gauntlet on his shoulder, the reptilian eyes within the helm yet again locked onto his own.
  
  “Did you overuse your mana in the fight? Listen, I need you to stay conscious. Those beasts could come back at any moment, not to mention we are deep within enemy territory. It won’t be long before their spirits come sniffing around to find us. We need to move soon, and I need you to stay conscious. Can you manage that?”
  
  She withdrew from Zareth and climbed up to her wyvern’s saddle to rummage in a pouch. From it she produced a strip of what appeared to be dried meat, or some sort of jerky. With it in hand, she clamored down from her wyvern and landed in front of Zarth.
  
  “Eat this,” She held out the scrap of dried flesh, offering it to Zareth, “It tastes like filth but it will help you recover.”
  
  Her tone became strict in anticipation of objection, “and if you don’t eat it all I'm leaving you here for the wolves.”
  
• 
  jmann
  The staff responded to Autumn’s request, granting her access to its stored power. The spell washed over the pack of wolves in a golden wave. In a matter of seconds, the smaller wolves slowed in their chase, afflicted by the unnatural drowsiness that had been cast by the spell. As for their leader, the enormous wolf at their heels, it had not even the hint of an effect.
  
  “To think that I, a spirit of winter, should bow before it?” the great wolf growled. Its fur glistened in sharp ridges formed from the frozen rain that had fallen onto its pelt.
  
  While the wolf was enraged, the white mage seemed more than relieved.
  
  “Excellent work,” she said, her voice betraying the exhaustion she felt. Needless to say, Autumn’s offering of mana was more than a pleasant surprise. The mage’s eyes widened as she nodded, “You have my gratitude.”
  
  The mage took the staff, baffled by Autumn’s words. She watched as Autumn leapt from the steed and took off. Perhaps she would have objected, or perhaps said a farewell of her own, had she not been left in a chase between life and death.
  
  With renewed mana, she conjured yet another barrier to triumph over Gammariah’s initial spear throw. The ice spear reacted strangely to her mana, forming a blast of ice shards where it crashed against her barrier. Realizing this as well, she opted to deflect the second spear throw, but just as Gammariah had guessed, she did not have enough time to both notice and react to the second spear aimed not at her, but the line of her steed’s path. Her shield had accounted for herself and her steed, but did little to stop the spear in its flight to Gamma’s true target.
  
  The unicorn’s leg caught on the spear, and with a whinny of surprise it stumbled forward and fell onto the sodden soil. Mud sprayed everywhere, staining its pristine hide. Its rider was flung down to the earth, her own garments stained in black and brown. She rolled to a stop and struggled to get up. Her staff had been tossed some distance away from her, out of her reach.
  
  The great wolf dropped Gamma, charging ahead to pounce on the unicorn as it faltered in its escape. With black talons, it gripped onto the beast’s side and pinned it down. Fangs lashed for the unicorn’s neck, clamping down around its throat, only to be buffeted back by a blast of radiance. It made the wolf dislodge its teeth, but did little to free the beast. The unicorn flailed its head back, sharp horn narrowly puncturing the great wolf’s own throat.
  
  Spells were still being flung across the battlefield, but the distance between the flank’s lines and the mage was growing. As the Astellian troops retreated, both rider and steed were at risk of being left behind.
  

  ---

  
  AriAriAbabwa
  In another world, or perhaps spoken to another man, Doi’s words might have hit more of the natural weaknesses in a soldier’s allegiance. She spoke of brainwashing and rotten crowns, but such eloquence only seemed to deepen the man’s anger. His eyes were two baleful pits that glimmered with more and more malice the longer Doi spoke.
  
  “Truth? You call that the truth?” the man growled, “There are no kings or queens here, girl. We are not like you.”
  
  Even while injured, the enraged man moved with vicious intent. His lantern staff was coated in ice, fed by the rainwater. Slowly it had become less of a staff and more of a lance made out of faintly glowing ice.
  
  Despite the wolf at the door, Doi initiated a prayer in the midst of battle. She uttered the name of the goddess Astell, guardian deity of the elvish and patron of their all-consuming empire. Her offering consisted of a flower and a hymn, quite suitable for prayer.
  
  In the rage of battle, Doi’s humming was little more than a single note in a symphony of chaos. She felt the breeze brush against her hair, damp with rain and rich with blood. Cold water dripped from the petals of her flower.
  
  She had called out to Astell…
  
  …there was no response.
  
  “You dare evoke that cursed goddess? This land is a gift from The Great Life Spirit, made of its own flesh and blood. We will no longer let your kind destroy it.”
  
  The spear shattered a hole through Aaron’s weakened barrier and launched forward, its glow intense enough to turn the soggy soil to frost. Snowflakes drifted around in the wind and the ground was coated in white.
  
  It was a stark colour against the red that fell. The spearstrike had found its mark in Aaron’s gut, the icey blue tainted a deep red.
  
  The wolves bayed at the edges of Aaron’s fading barrier, spectral maws bared in anticipation of their kill.
  
  

  Aaron has been grievously wounded and is in dire need of aid or is at risk of death!

  ---

  
  Astrylan
  One of the wolves responded to Aryia’s question with a growl, “You do not smell like elf-kin, or of the children. You are an unknown scent to us. Your scent is strange.”
  
  The other wolf dipped its head, apparently in agreement to the statement about her smell. It trotted closer to her a tentative sniff with its tail held high. Content, its tail lowered and it turned to address the other wolf that had spoken.
  
  “Strange-scent can fight. Mother Oshaka says that The Children have need of every tooth and fang,” the wolf growled, “Even the weak ones of human-things.”
  
  The first wolf considered these words. Their ears flattened, “Strange-scent may go as they please. But if Strange-scent gets in way or helps elf-kin then they are meat.”
  
• 
  YsFanatic Solirus SirDerpingtonIV (checked sarah’s actions with YsFantatic)
  If the commander noticed the demise of one of her swords, she did little to show it. Instead, all her attention was upon Natalie. The commander seemed unsure of how to handle Natalie’s mechanical suit, let alone what it was or was capable of. Her eyes were set on the approaching mech, studying it with her sharp gaze for any hint at how she could end it.
  
  Ironically, Sarah’s warning served to give her a better understanding of what it was. Her eyes narrowed at the mention of her swords possibly damaging the ‘power armour’, her mind carefully judging the threat before her. All at once she knew two things; one, the thing before her was considered armour and not a golem, and secondly that there was a chance that her opponent believed that the magic within her attacks could be enough to injure it.
  
  Ruby gemstones glowed once more, the floating blades angled in preparation. Both her hands were on the longsword, yet she will the remaining two swords to fly towards Nat and Sarah. One of them glowed in the familiar harsh red light that Sarah would recognize as the exploding magic, while the other seemed to be rather inconspicuous.
  Based on her experience fighting with the commander’s swords, Sarah moved to attack the glowing sword in hopes of defending Natalie. Before her strike could hit the blade, there was the sound of a bell, and the two swords swapped places. Instead of the glowing blade, she ended up hitting the non-glowing one.
  
  As soon as the blades collided, Sarah could feel a disembodied weight on the end of her sword. Something was pulling it. If she looked closely in the rain, she could see that something was blocking the raindrops that fell. It tugged at the sword, attempting to disarm her and keeping her away from the other sword flying towards Nat.
  
  The glowing sword flew towards Nat, aimed at the center of the mech where the commander assumed a person's chest would be. Upon contact with anything, the sword would create an explosion of red-hued energy.
  
• 
  blankcanvas
  The water rippled around Rena, disturbed by her movements, then grew still once more. It was the peace she had sought after so long, and for a while she was granted it. Compared to the chaos and death she had just witnessed, perhaps it was enough to gather her scattered thoughts and reflect.
  
  Like a mirror below, she could see a perfect image of herself reflected on its silky surface. Then the image rippled. Something in the water had stirred.
  
  In the expanse of silent stillness, the addition of one soft sound was loud enough to cross the entirety of the endless water.
  
  “This way, my child.” spoke a voice as gentle and soft as the water she found herself in.
  
  Rena could not recognize the voice from anywhere, and yet she felt a strange familiarity in it. Like a memory she could not quite place, or the feeling of a word just on the tip of her tongue.
  
  The voice came from some distance behind her, though the fog obscured everything beyond her arms reach. Whatever it was, if she wished to find the source she would need to wander in the direction she had heard it.
  

 

[Astrylan]

Aryia
Near the Astellian Flank
​

Aryia wasn't too surprised by the wolves talking of her smell being different. No, what surprised her was the fact that they talked at all.
"S***! You can talk!?" Wait, were they really talking, or was she able to understand the growls or something? Either way, she was currently having a conversation with the two wolves in front of her, and with her head still reeling from all that has happened since she got here, she decided to just go with the flow. "Unimportant for now, I guess..." Aryia gave the area she was in a look as she slowly turned in a circle before sighing to herself. As much as she'd like to leave, she had no clue where she was, and if she did leave, she might very well run into that other army. She'd prefer avoiding that, especially if that guy from earlier managed to survive somehow; she'd probably be treated as an enemy if they found out about her fight with them, and she'd rather not be imprisoned right now. Or ever honestly.

"Can I come with you for now? I don't really know where am I, or how I got here. And leaving on my own sounds like a bother since I might run into that army that just fled and they'd probably detain me, and ask a bunch of bothersome questions and I also really don't feel like being meat just cause I have their scent on me if I manage to convince them to let me go." She stopped to take a breath and realized she'd been rambling; a bad habit she has had since she was young. Aryia tended to ramble as a one of her ways to cope with stress build up, and she'd never gotten rid of the habit. Hard to do when you live on your own with no one to talk to. "Sorry. Bad habit." Taking a deep breath, Aryia tries to calm down a bit before continuing at a more relaxed pace. "So, anyways. If you don't mind, could I possibly come with you for now? I need to clear my head and figure out how the heck I got here. If you'd rather I leave though, could I at least get you to show the way to the nearest village or something? I don't have any food on me, and I rather doubt I'll find anything within a mile or two of this battlefield right now either..." She also needed to figure out if she could still use her magic or not. She'd never bothered much with it back home, since it would just damage the pelts and possibly the meat of the animals she hunted. However, if the battle she just witnessed was going to escalate into a full blown war - if it hadn't already - than she figured having an extra card or two in a fight as a precaution wouldn't hurt. Displaced animals wreaking havoc was a given, and bandits were bound to start getting more courageous with the lessening of forces guarding the roads.

Juju

 

[YsFanatic]

A narrowing of her eyes was Sarah's only external reaction to this unexpected development. Inwardly her mind raced to analyze the situation for the best possible course of action. First thing of import was that there was no way she would be able to reach the other sword in time to hit it, she just didn't have that kind of speed anymore. Thus she would have to trust the power armor soldier to take care of themselves and instead focus her attention back to the commander. Second, what was going on with her sword at this moment indicated that the flying blades were not actually flying in the conventional sense, but perhaps carried by some kind of ghostly entity? Or perhaps this one's power was to manifest such a form to better operate on its own. Either of those two options presented a possible means to throw it off balance for a moment, hopefully long enough to give Sarah the chance to act.

For a moment the swordswoman resisted the pull on her sword before abruptly pushing towards the invisible figure and letting go of the blade. As soon as her fingers were free from the weapon's hilt, Sarah opened them wide and released a Mana Bolt from her palm towards the invisible figure. It didn't matter if the bolt hit or inflicted any injury, the elderly woman just did it as part of her ploy to knock the figure off balance for a moment, maybe make them flinch a bit from the unexpected move.

But she didn't stick around to see the results and was already running back towards the commander, lungs and muscles starting to burn from the exertion. As Sarah ran she slowed for the briefest of moments to grab another short sword from a body laying on the ground, this one a bit chipped and in rougher shape, but still usable. As she closed the gap with the commander, the spellsword glanced over the longsword the other woman was holding. As she had wielded such a weapon for pretty much her entire life, she was intimately familiar with the ways one would not only use that type of sword, but also how to fight against it. It was knowledge that was going to be helpful now for getting close enough for her own weapon to be effective.

While she summoned another Mana Shield, just in case it was needed when closing in, Sarah was more focused on two other things. First was her offense, a quick swing that appeared to be aimed at the commander's neck, but in reality was a feint. She anticipated the commander reacting to block such an effort, and she planned to take advantage of that to strike at her foe's hands or wrists to cripple her ability to hold a weapon. The other thing Sarah was paying attention to was for that bell sound that indicated a sword swap, for if she hear that then she knew she had to be ready to change her actions at a moment's notice to avoid injury.

Solirus SirDerpingtonIV Juju

 

[ThatWhichShouldBe]

Han Liuyang
He'd seen Shem's like before. Broken things. Tragic, really- But the world moves on without them. It couldn't wait for them to catch up.

"Seer, hm...? It'd be a strange title for me to take." Han chuckles. What a turn. From King to Seer. "I'd speak to this Haavi once we get a chance- Whatever this Great Life Spirit desires, I imagine it's something rather specific."

He allows her to wriggle out of his grasp, allowing her to look around. Time was precious enough that moments of wonder like these were to be savored- It held true for mortals and the divine alike. One never had too much beauty and glory in one's life. The fact that all this had lain dormant within the lake made him wonder what other secrets lay at this temple... But that could all wait until they'd survived the battle.

"Three-Temples did not meet with a kind fate, I suppose."

But then the veil of water thins, and Han turns his attention to the dangers beyond the floating islands. To the wyvern and its rider, as they land upon the island that he stood upon. Han chuckles as he steps forward, keeping himself between the Priestess and the rather stubborn knight.

"Arcane Keystone? Is that really what you think of it? Even I can see it is far more than that. Bah. You're a stubborn, dutiful man- The sort that won't stop until you're dead anyhow. I can respect that, I suppose."

Let's see here. Constrained space. Open field. Opponent with fire magics and swordsmanship... What to use...

Aha! It'd been a while since he wielded this set.

His Moonsilver wraps shift and morph, a short silver machete-like blade forming in his left, while his right wraps shape a long, flexible weapon... a bladed one... an Urumi, a sword-whip. With the crack of a deadly whip, his Urumi begins to build up speed, as Han smiles at the knight.

"Come and fulfill your duty to the end, little man."

Then the Urumi whips out to slash at the Knight, trapped upon the small island with Han's arcing weapon- and battle is joined.

 

[November Witch]

Autumn Ichor

Status: Fearful, guilty, hopeless, uninjured.

As Autumn ran, she occasionally looked back at the shrinking figures behind her. She wished them good luck and offered a silent prayer to any god that would listen. But she saw the mage and her steed tumble to the ground. The soldier who’d been protecting the fragile looking girl was pierced. Her stride wavered momentarily, but she didn’t falter.

However, her breath did. It hitched in her throat and for a moment, she didn’t breathe. The fox had to consciously remind herself to. These welling emotions could cost her dearly. Autumn knew the importance of remaining calm. She focused on her breathing yet again and trained her eyes on the path before her. It was clearing out. She could dwell on this despair later.

As she neared the lake, she found it became more and more muddy and worse terrain for her to move in overall. However, the battlefield was also more sparsely populated by both sides. It would allow her some reprieve. She slowed, nearing a rock where she pulled herself up and sat as the torrent changed to just rain. Autumn was soaked, muddy and her adrenaline was starting to wear off after finding herself in the midst of a war.

She still didn’t know where she was. Autumn, at first, thought she was having a dream. Then thought she must have been taken or transported elsewhere. But now, she felt something in her gut. Something that told her this was all wrong. Deathly wrong. Like this was an afterlife of sorts. Like she had died. Autumn didn’t believe this quite yet, but she had no better explanation. She assumed the afterlife would be a place of paradise, or some sort of purgatory. Autumn glanced around, seeing only dark, muted colors and the red of blood.

Maybe this was some sort of purgatory. Maybe all the souls here had assigned themselves to one side or another. Maybe purgatory was no different than any other world…

As she glanced around, her eyes fell on the scene she had left. She was too far now to make out anything happening in any detail, but Autumn already knew she made the wrong choice. The mage had been separated from her forces and had been slowed. If she found out later the mage had perished, she would feel guilty for it all. If she found out the fragile woman and the soldier who protected him fell, she would feel guilty for all of that too. In fact, she already did feel guilty for leaving them all.

But then again, what could she do? She couldn’t hope to stand up to a massive wolf, or any of the men who were there, fighting those she was trying to protect. What could Autumn, a political figure with no training in defense or fighting, hope to do? The best course of action was to run and save herself. That’s exactly what she did.

These two sides of Autumn warred in her head, fighting for control of her emotions and mental state going forward. Autumn clenched her hands into fists and they trembled slightly. Seeing people die around her, seeing the absolute hatred and bloodlust in various eyes. The fear, hope and determination of others. The possible loss of life due to her own choices.

For someone who had never experienced such things, it was more than a gut punch. It was a life changing experience. Her face showed distress and nothing more. Her previous life as a politician meant she had a good poker face. However, only the rain saved her, as her tears mixed with the rain falling from the sky. That, and there was no one else to see her in this state. At least, no one close enough to notice.

Autumn looked up into the sky, only now seeing the wyvern circling the floating aisles. She couldn’t see much else than that. But she had no idea what was going on in this world. She knew nothing and couldn’t help in any significant capacity. She had no way up, even if she wanted to get up there anyways. If she couldn’t do anything meaningful, why bother?

Autumn let out a shaky sigh. One that threatened to collapse into a wail. But she held it, pulling her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them, and lowering her head. The rain was cold. She looked pathetic. She was pathetic. She didn’t want anyone to see her at the moment. However, she wasn’t fully consumed. Her ears remained active and alert, twitching and swiveling to the source of any new sound they picked up.

 

[Solirus]

Rodal​

From a glance it appeared as if the swords of the commander followed similar rules to what he faced previously, perhaps with differing abilities. The officers lack of reaction was also convenient, she was connected to these blade but not to the extent that she would know all about them. Rodal slowly started making his way to the officer, spotting the bull beast once more on the ground. This officer was a bad matchup for the bull and at the current rate the beast would kill itself trying to kill her. "You should fall back and carry the fallen with you before they succumb to their wounds." Rodal didn't say it as an order, merely as a suggestion, if the Bull beast wanted to risk it's own life here then Rodal wouldn't stop it.

Why don't you go help the fallen then?

My efforts are better spent neutralizing her.

Hmm, I guess as long as you don't intend to be such a bitchy fighter anymore.

Rodal broke into a sprint towards the officer. She was distracted enough from the old lady and the armored warrior which seemed enough to take her down, however the old lady was slow and reaching her limit and the armored warrior was an uncertain element. Furthermore, he wanted the officer alive. Carrying his momentum, Rodal raised Blizzard and swung down at the officer. If the officer tried to block Blizzard the icicles forming on the blade would lock the blade in place and allow him to potentially yank the officers blade off. The best move for the officer would be to dodge back, giving up ground which would be tricky in muddy terrain. In essence Rodal was also testing the officer to see if he could use simple tricks to take down this soldier. Rodal however was still cautious, holding Brimstone defensively incase any of the blades moved back to defend their wielder. If these blades held different personalities, their reactions could vary.

 

[blankcanvas]

Still A Big Mystery​

“This way...”

Rena blinked a few times as the soft spoken words snapped her out of the peaceful stupor. It had been a while since she was allowed a brief moment to herself. While it had come to an abrupt end, she was still glad for the respite. Normally, someone speaking to her wouldn't have stirred much of anything within her, however, this time it had managed to catch her ear - specifically the voice.

It was a strange voice that was both atonal and melodious, a very strange combination. Usually, she was able to pinpoint the exact note and range of the speaker. Every speaker had a 'baseline' when they spoke, the zone in which sound was normally produced. This not only helped her mentally identify them for future references, but, just from the usual rhythm, tone, accent, verbiage, she was able to get a rough profile of them as well. However, in this case, Rena was unable to latch onto the proper musical note.

Also, it sounded vaguely familiar to her, yet at the same time it didn't? This paradoxical conundrum was going to gnaw at the back of her mind. Still, did this entity think that just because they beckoned to her, that she would blindly follow it? She would like to think that after being alive for quite some time, that she had some life knowledge under her belt.

Slowly getting up on her feet, Rena began trudging forward, hoping to see something beyond the dark, grey skies. However, she immediately stopped in her tracks when she heard the next two words.

"...my child..."

Rena felt her breath hitch as she closed her eyes. The voice wisped at her edge of her ears, making them tingle with uncertainty. Once again, she had a difficult time comprehending the musical note of this enigmatic entity. There was also the factor to where her outer senses had failed to recognize the tone, but something within her was dully aching with vague familiarity.

Giving off a sigh of resignation, the blue-haired half-elf decided to turn around and go towards the beckoning call.

 

[Juju]

• Lake
• Frontlines
• Outer flank
• ???

• 
  ThatWhichShouldBe
  All Toko did to confirm Han’s question about the Three-Rivers Temple was shake her head. Her reservations for talking about the events that transpired was more than enough of an answer. Whatever had occurred was not a happy outcome.
  
  Then the knight appeared and the moment of questions and wonder was ground to a halt. Toko stood behind Han, her orb clutched tightly against her chest. When the knight spoke she shuddered and paled.
  
  "Y-you cannot take it!" Toko stuttered, her voice smaller than she intended.
  
  Even so, worriment crossed her face as she glanced at Han, anxious that he might consider the knight’s request.
  
  Much to her relief, he did anything but that.
  
  “So be it.” The knight responded flatly. His stance shifted in preparation of the fight that was to come, sword lifted at the ready.
  
  Han’s strike fell upon a shield of fire, the tongues of flame coloured a brilliant blue that matched the knight’s wyvern. It flared brightly at Han’s attack, tanking the hit in place of the knight.
  
  The flames burst outwards, expelling the shield in sync with the knight’s charge. Sword at the ready, he made two vicious swings at Han, each aimed for a fatal hit. The knight’s movements were quicker than he should have any right to when grabbed in such heavy armor. For an ordinary fighter it could have spelled doom, but Han was no ordinary fighter. With his blessed speed he could yet avoid a brutal death, though even he could tell that the knight's strikes were more than any human should possess.
  
  There was no flourish to the knight's attacks, only efficient movements that could end the fight as quickly as possible. One after the other they fell in swift, calculated motions.
  
  "Ah! Careful! I- I can help!" Toko cried, holding up her orb. The faint glow had ceased, and she only seemed to notice its absence now. She peered down at it in horror, "Huh? No, great spirits, do not abandon this sacred treasure. Hear its call once more!"
  
  While Han struggled against the threat of the knight, Toko huddled behind Han and began to whisper prayers to the lightless orb she had gone to such lengths to protect.
  
  

  ---

  November Witch
  Autumn’s ears were alert and keen, and yet she did not hear the arrival of a small, furry creature wearing a strange mask in place of a face. For all she could tell, one moment she was alone with nothing but the rain, and the next there was a being standing beside her. It simply appeared out of thin air.
  
  The rain did not touch its luscious, plush fur that was the colour of sun-bleached bone. In fact, the raindrops moved around it, as if blocked by an invisible force. It silently regarded Autumn for a moment, then spoke in a tiny, drifting voice.
  
  
  
  “Hmm.. yet another. It appears thy kind multiply by the second, much akin to rabbits. By the morrow methinks that even the Wind-Sea shall be aflood.”
  
  The creature made a strange yipping sound that was halfway between a bird call and the tinkling of a chime. It seemed to be some sort of laughter.
  
  "Yet again, this one finds another in a wretched and sorry state. However, thoust does seem more fit of mind and body than the last. This one wonders, to what purpose do thy tears serve? Rare are the tears shed by elfkin for my ilk, and yet thou weeps despite assisting them. Tis a curious sight indeed."
  
  With little paws the creature hopped over to stand in front of Autumn, head tilting this way and that. Despite having no eyes, Autumn got the distinct impression that it was studying her every feature.
  
  “This one shall ask a question of thee and wary be your answer of dishonesty. Praytell, art thou a child of stars? Or art thou springith of root and stem?"
  
• 
  YsFanatic Solirus
  Sarah’s ploy was effective in catching the mysterious force off guard. Her sword was plucked back, allowing her to slip away from the clutches of whatever creature had pulled her weapon in the first place. Her mana bolt crashed against something, briefly revealing the outline of a humanoid figure before the energy fizzled out. When Sarah took off, the sword floated after her, the red gemstone of its hilt flickering.
  
  The old warrior caught up to the commander, reaching her a bit before Rodal did. With a low quality sword, she went for a feint and a slash at the commander’s hands. The other woman’s cool grey eyes were sharp, calculating the battlefield like a hawk-like focus. She moved her sword to prepare for the attack at her neck, yet recovered from the feint with an experienced reflex. Still, instead of deflecting the attack, she moved her sword so that Sarah’s strike landed upon her arm instead of her hand.
  
  While the armoring on her arms did not appear to be thick, Sarah’s chipped weapon made only a shallow cut. Such a wound would likely slow her to a degree, but it didn’t do as much damage as it should have. It was unclear if this was a matter of the sword’s poor condition, or the material of the commander’s garb.
  
  Blood seeped from the commander’s wound, only to rise up and be absorbed into the hilt of the longsword she wielded. Red magic flared, and with a wide arc the commander sliced out at Sarah’s blade, cleaving it in two. A mass of red energy appeared from the commander’s longsword, forming into an arm. It crashed down upon Sarah’s mana shield, buffeting her back from the force.
  
  Her shield prevented any damage from the claw, but did little to prevent the sword that chased her from striking into her side. Instead of swapping places this time, the floating sword had simply chased her and made its attack. Sarah’s years of experience would save her from a fatal wound, yet her lack of armor would spell disaster for her current health.
  
  
  [Sarah suffers a serious wound]​
  
  “Shoddy steel and a nightgown… such a waste of-,” the commander growled, only to interrupt her own words by twirling around to face Rodal’s incoming strike. Her reaction to noticing him was uncanny, if not impossible for the angle she was currently faced with Sarah. It was as if she had heightened awareness, or that something else was keeping watch for her.
  
  Blizzard collided with the commander’s longsword, creating a ridge of ice where the two swords met. The ice locked the blades together, but Rodal was hard-pressed to remove the weapon from the woman’s grip. Her surprising strength was only challenged by the intensity of her glare.
  
  Swords and eyes locked together as the ice slowly turned a shade of crimson, like fresh blood sinking into snow, “So, you managed to free one of the bastards? Of all it had to be. It infested you, boy, didn’t it?”
  
  With a loud crack, the ice containing the sword was shattered, freeing the blade to swipe at Rodal. The commander advanced forward, her strikes sure and well aimed despite a wound on her leg and arm. She moved with a lifetime’s worth of hardened experience and the grit that Rodal would recognize from many an old veteran.
  
  “If you stand down now I can give you a clean death before it gets to you. For the sake of your allies and mine, you cannot live. House Ravencrest sends its apologies.”
  
  While the battle raged, the Bull Spirit lay crumbled where it had fallen. Judging by the huffs and snorts, it was less than impressed by its current condition. This was only worsened by Rodal's suggestion.
  
  “Hmp! A foul-blood gives an order to me?” The bull bellowed in disbelief. Mist expelled from its nostrils as it snorted in indignation.
  
  The bull’s wounds leaked mud and clay below it, though it was hard to tell with the amount of mud already strewn around it. Based on the creature’s otherworldly nature, it was also difficult to tell just how serious these wounds were. At the very least, the creature did not seem to be panicking, but then again it had done nothing but display an unending stubbornness.
  
  It glanced at the broken sword Sarah had once wielded. The mud shifted at the Bull’s glance, enough to coax the weapon to slide across the soggy ground to rest at the spirit’s hooves. It lowered its head and rested its muzzle upon the steel for a moment, then withdrew. The clay and mud parted beneath the blade, allowing for spikes of stone to pierce up from the soil. Bit by bit, the sword’s broken blade was replaced by sharp edges of stone, chipped as an obsidian blade might be.
  
  “Human in the strange dress,” the bull called out to Sarah, “Listen to my words. The outlander’s blades are possessed by an energy much like we spirits. If it might easily harm our spiritual energies, then perhaps our own might harm it in a similar fashion. Take this sliver of my might and crush those cursed blades underhoof...”
  
  The stone sword glinted in the rain. It’s blade was marbled with bits of the original steel and hard stone. In the cracks and creases of stone, a dull orange glow spilled out, much like that which flowed within the beast’s own form.
  
  If Sarah were to take the blade, she would find that the stone blade was lighter than it appeared, about no different as a blade might usually be. Her hand, arm and shoulder would also become enveloped in a coating of shale and earth, providing her a decent amount of armor on that side. Just like the sword, this earthen armor did not seem to weigh as much as it should.
  
  As for her wound, her blood turned to clay and mud, hardening into a cast that stopped the bleeding. It was perhaps a rather alarming sight, but it would keep her alive for the time being at least. Whatever this meant for long term would have to wait.
  
• 
  Astrylan
  The first wolf’s tail raised aggressively at Aryia’s clear bafflement, “Are we sure Strange-scent is not from across sea?”
  
  “We are spirits. Born of wolf-souls chosen by Matriarch Oshaka,” said the other. They seemed more relaxed with Aryia, their ghostly eyes following the path that Aryia was tracing with her own gaze.
  
  They nodded towards the dead Astellian troops that laid face-down in the blood mud, their corpses soaked in rain. “Strange-scent has shed blood of Outlanders. Blood is good. Will not become meat. Not yet. Stay with this one and I will make sure Strange-scent is not eaten by brothers and sisters.”
  
  “Strange-scent thinks slow,” the first wolf barked, then nodded their head towards the [TEMPLE GATES], “Nearest two-leg den is there. Is what spirits and children are protecting from elf-kin. Spirits call it Cloud-Home. Strange-scent can find food there if they cannot hunt.”
  
  The last part was spoken in an amused tone. It was clear that they assumed Aryia to rely on trade and farming, as many of her kind were accustomed to.
  
  In the distance Aryia could see the aforementioned ‘Two-leg Den’. It appeared to be an overgrown temple of sorts, with its walls crumbling in places. Despite what the wolves had said, the place looked rather ancient, more like an abandoned ruin than one that had been built within the same age. Despite this, the gate looked well maintained, though battered from combat. The heavy rain made it difficult to see all the details, but one of the sides of the temple looked burnt.
  
• 
  blankcanvas
  Rena followed the sound of the voice, her footsteps disturbing the tranquility of the waters. The mists obscured her sight, yet the ground was flat and the voice had come from only one direction. It was not difficult to follow.
  
  After a few steps the ripples of disturbance in the water’s shallow surface began to originate from two separate directions. One was from Rena’s own footfalls, and the other was from somewhere off in the distance, where she had heard the softly spoken words.
  
  Faintly, Rena could hear something like bits of metal clinking together. They were muted, but Rena might be familiar with this particular clamor from her own past life experiences. From what she could hear, the clinking sounded a lot like metal chains.
  
  “Ah, at last…” the voice said, clearer now that Rena had closed the distance. It was melodious and rich, like liquid gold and sunset dew. Like a lullaby, one could be forgiven for wanting to listen to the cloyingly sweet music that was this voice. “Long have I waited patiently for this day…that I might speak with you, my precious child.”
  
  Underneath the beautiful voice, Rena slowly became aware of something else speaking to her. It was difficult to focus on in comparison to the comforting words of the entity, but Rena could make up small words, like an ant screaming up at a giant. Compared to the melody of the hidden voice, this one was quite simple and ugly.
  
  This second voice whispered from below, broken in several places where the song drowned it out, “...not… trust… your life… here… my power…from…safe…”
  
  Strangely, Rena could not remember hearing music until now. Yet she could swear a choir sung from somewhere, delicate notes dancing in the fine mist. It wrapped around the words of the hidden speaker, who seemed to have caught attention of whatever Rena had just heard.
  
  “Are you well? Rena, dear child, do not be afraid. You cannot recall it, but you know me...and I know you. I shall show you. Come closer, my child.”
  

 

[November Witch]

Autumn Ichor

Status: Fearful, guilty, hopeless, uninjured.

Autumn was startled to say the least as something had seemingly snuck up on her. Close enough to speak. She visibly jumped and moved to see the source of the voice and run if she needed to. However, thankfully, it seemed she wouldn’t have to be too alarmed. For no person or enemy stood before her. No, instead, it was some sort of small, heavily furred animal. It reminded her of a fox of some kind. But with no visible face, and a mane of fur that rivaled almost all others she had seen before. It didn’t look like a creature she had seen or even knew of in her previous life. But then again, there were all kinds of rare and odd creatures that existed with little to no documentation.

While it was incredibly rare, it also wasn’t unheard of to stumble upon some sort of magical creature capable of speech. All this being the case, Autumn relaxed and sighed in relief. She didn’t need to be scared of this thing. It wasn’t attempting to mindlessly attack her like the wolves before. Autumn listened as the creature rambled on, unsure of what exactly it was getting at or meant with really any of what it was talking about.

While it looked at her, she looked back at it, taking in the features of its appearance, and the odd sight of the water seemingly to be repelled before even hitting the fur. When presented with a question, Autumn wasn’t exactly sure how to respond. She didn’t know what the thing meant exactly. She was born just like anything else. Autumn didn’t come from outer space or beyond the sky. She had been born there like anyone else.

But she still felt that feeling deep inside her. Like something was wrong. Like she wasn’t where she thought she was, or should have been. Speaking of which, magic and the abilities around her, while similar, were breaking rules from her previous life. It started to dawn on Autumn that she really wasn’t in her world. She was somewhere completely different.

When she woke up, she could see the sky. She had felt weightless…

To this creature before her, she likely did originate from the sky.

“I’m not sure…”

Autumn admitted.

“But I think I would be considered by you, as a child of the stars.”

There was silence for a moment.

“I don’t know where I am or how I got here. I’m lost, physically and mentally. I have no clear idea of how to proceed.”

Autumn simply hoped that she could get help from this creature. Advice, directions, or anything really. Perhaps, with how intently it was looking at her, it already gathered this much from her… Either way, there was only one thing to do. She would wait for a response from the creature.

 

[Solirus]

Rodal

Mentions: Juju YsFanatic
​

Unsurprising, he quickly thought, she still holds considerable strength and her instincts appear sharp, perhaps an effect of the blades... Rodal let go of Blizzard, letting it get knocked up into the air behind him. It also didn't help that his ally was wounded yet still standing and the Bull, though stubborn, didn't jump into the fray and instead provided a weapon for old woman.

With how the officer talks it seems this curse appears more like some sort of infestation and a nasty kind at that.

Hey, pay attention to the fight and don't you dare let go of Blizzard like that again.

Couldn't help it, shoulder's wounded and she appears to be enhanced by the swords magic.

Stop thinking about her swords!

...Ok, then do me a favor.

Only if you say prettiest please.

...Prettiest please don't unsummon these weapons and-

Rodal walked towards the officer once more prepared to dodge her strike, "not bad, but you talk too much veteran" he casually mentioned to the officer, seemingly ignoring her words and focusing on her actions. He would then swing Brimstone upwards, not to strike her, but to toss the blade into the air and as he let go of the blade he raised his left arm next to his right one, positioning them as if he were about to strike with a great sword.

Channel your magic as if you were to summon Titan just as I am about to swing but halt it at the last second.

You're being dumb, why not just summon Titan now?

Trust me.

Fine then, but only because you said and I quote: "Prettiest please!"

Though the magic would flow and he would swing his arms as if he wielded the gargantuan weapon, Titan wouldn't materialize. The officer had keen instincts and had most definitely taken notice of Leva's ability to summon weapons at will but the officer couldn't anticipate what exactly he was threatening to summon or when. If she lowered her guard once Rodal could summon the weapon at will and critically strike her, but defending herself from an imaginary weapon would also limit her own attacks allowing Rodal to evade more easily.

 

[jmann]

GAMMARIAH|Astellian Flank
Juju

Gammariah watched in a furious hunger as the white mage’s mount was felled and leapt upon by the wolf. Gammariah leapt from the ground and continued his pursuit. But as the pain in his leg grew, it became increasingly hard to ignore. His face scrunched with every other step. The rain was turning the battlefield to mush, turning every step into a battle of its own.

Gammariah drew both his swords. Thin, curved, and frighteningly sharp. There was not a touch of blood rust on them, and the fine craftsmanship of the grips were still in good shape. The blades had rarely been used. Gammariah was a beacon of inspiration and fear, he rarely did the fighting himself and it showed in his stance. His feet were parted, his back and shoulders arched like the wolf who battled the unicorn nearby.
Fueled by hate, Gammariah shouted in a language old even by his time.
“Chete o kaa!” ”Look at me!” It was an old language for the sages. Few mages he encountered knew the language, most of which were elves.
Gammariah glanced from side to side. The elves were falling back. His intimidation meant nothing if there was nobody alive to see it, and the white mage wouldn’t be alive for long.

Gammariah continued his march towards the downed mage. He desperately needed to rest, but every second he wasn’t hunting mages they grew ever stronger. He flourished the swords, grounding himself in the present. It was only him and the white mage, nobody else concerned him.
With a growl and a yell, Gammariah leapt forward swiping for the mage’s hands.

 

[Astrylan]

Aryia​

Aryia glanced at the wolf that raised their tail. "I'm not. In fact, I'm not even sure I come from this world. Of course, Traygoria was so large, it's not impossible that I just got teleported to another continent or something..."

Turning to the other side, Aryia listened to the wolves explanation, giving a nod at the end. "I see... that makes sense. I think we actually had something similar back home; I believe those were spirit wolves though. They also didn't roam around in more packs of four or five, and they didn't have a single matriarch." She smiled as the wolf continued on, telling her that for now, at least, she'd be allowed to stay with them. She frowned at the first wolf calling her slow though. "I'm not a slow thinker, I'm just still trying to wrap my head around the fact that I've somehow been teleported to what is most likely a completely different world from my own. I'm pretty sure I was dead not fifteen minutes ago, after all." She gave a huff of annoyance before unstringing her bow and throwing it on her back. "As for food... Well, as I mentioned before, I'd go hunt it myself, but any animals that were living here are long gone by now, and they won't be coming back anytime soon."

Aryia began walking towards the Temple Gates, taking in what she could of it, noticing the one scorch marks on one side. From this distance, and with the rain granting poor visibility, she could only assume it to be from stray shots of magic. Other than that, it was quite obvious that the temple was being taken care of, at least as much as it could be. The temple was probably so old by this point, that it would probably be cheaper and more efficient to just rebuild it. Aryia figured she'd find out was she got inside; it was raining hard enough that visibility at this distance was poor, and she didn't think it was going to let up anytime soon. " Anyways, tell me more about the fight with these 'elf-kin'. Obviously, both sides are quite hostile towards one another, but I'm guessing you guys aren't the aggressors here?"

 

[YsFanatic]

If she had been younger with her abilities intact, Sarah would have avoided being hit, of that she had no doubt. Instead she found herself falling to one knee, the broken blade dropped to the ground as blackness started to nibble at the edge of her vision. Between the last hit and this one, the swordswoman knew that it wouldn't be long before the blood loss caused her to fall unconscious. While moving around was no longer an option, she still had a decent amount of mana left. Thus she raised her left arm, intent on blasting the sword-wielding apparition that had struck her with as many Mana Bolts as possible, hopefully keeping it off the man now engaging the commander in battle long enough for him to claim victory.

Then the bull creature started to speak to her, causing Sarah to stop just short of unleashing the first bolt and listen to it instead. Another grin crossed her face as the now repaired sword was slid back over to where she could grab it. Slowly, every so slowly she climbed back to her feet as the earthen armor covered her right arm and shoulder and her most recent wound was patched up with the same kind of power. While the blackness at the edge of her vision didn't go away, it wasn't getting worse either. Grasping the hilt of the blade with both hands, the earth armor spreading to cover the left hand now as well, the elderly warrior took a deep breath before letting her mana flow into the blade. However, as the purple energy started to cover it, she noted the orange energy of the bull that had been leaking from the cracks started to become dull and vanish, causing her to quickly dismiss her own ability and allowing the orange glow to return to full strength. In her current state Sarah would much rather trust the bull's power than her own new, and untested abilities.

She took several cautious steps to close back in with the sword that had hit her. Going by what the bull said, the goal would be strike the weapon itself and to hopefully break it. A bit of a different approach to fighting than she normally took, but it wouldn't be her first time destroying the weapon used by her enemy. Sarah took a swing at the 'floating' sword, fully prepared for its ghostly wielder to attempt to move it out of the way and thus have to adjust her attack to compensate.

Solirus Juju

 

[seasonedcat]

Zareth | Ruins
TW: emotional and physical abuse; not needed for plot, just a backstory; feel free to skip.
"Zareth, sweetheart, it's time to go." his mother's sweet voice pulled him away from the book he was reading. His eyes lit up at her words; jumping off the chair he was sitting on, he tripped over his short legs, almost falling flat on his face. His mother laughed lightly at this, "Careful, Tiarsus isn't going anywhere. At this rate, you won't even make it there." Zareth playfully rolled his eyes at her, "It will take more to make the greatest mage ever to live fall!" his mother ruffled his hair as she laughed at him as they left.

"what do you mean? I don't understand." Zareth looked up nervously at his mother as she spoke, trying desperately to understand the blank stare on her face. "I have never seen anything like this; there are even humans with more mana than this..." The sharp inhale from his mother made him flinch as he shifted in his seat, uncomfortable. His little hand was sweaty on the crystal in front of him. He stared nervously at the glow from the gem, so faint it was almost not even there. He didn't understand why it mattered what this crystal said. He was still the greatest mage... right?

no matter how he pried, his mother did not say a word as they made their way back to their home; it wasn't until they were in the entryway that his mom fell to her knees sobbing. Zareth tried desperately to comfort her, his hand reaching out to hold hers like she used to do when he cried, "Mom, tell me what's wrong; I don't understand! What did I do wrong? How can I fix it?"

the slap echoed through the quiet house as his hand was shoved away roughly from her, "What did you do wrong? What did you do? You ruined my whole life! I did everything for you; I gave up my LIFE for you, and all you had to do was be useful! All you had to do was be anything! And here you are, a complete FAILURE. Do you want to fix this? Go back in time and NEVER BE BORN AT ALL!" She shoved him roughly again, and this time, he fell roughly, his small hand trying to catch himself, causing a loud crack to fill the air. Pain erupted through his arm; all he could do was cry and wail as his mother paced in the entryway.

"shut up! SHUT UP! Stop crying like you have been hurt! You have ruined me! Me! This isn't about you, you leech!" Zareth continued to cry because he didn't understand. It didn't make any sense. With a flash, his mother's hand was over his mouth and nose, pressing down hard. "if you don't shut up this second, I will give you something to cry about. I am tired of your damn winning all the time" Zareth struggled but couldn't remove her hand from his young form. He shook violently as he tried to get free so he could breathe, but his mother did not let go. It wasn't until he began to pass out that she left him, coughing as he gasped for air. "If I never come back, it will be your fault, you waste of space." with that, his mother left the house as Zareth clutched himself, desperate not to make a sound.
--TW END--
"eat this-" the leech wiggled violently in front of his face; he quickly shoved the hand away from himself, falling back as his breath picked up. His blurry vision stared up at the elves in front of him and laughed; it wasn't until he blinked that he began to realize that it was just the knight. An angry flush overtook his face as he realized his mistake, quickly snatching the offered food again after her statement. An apology danced in his mind, but he quickly shoved it down as he grimaced at the food. He had eaten far worse than this.

it did help him a little, but his head was still floating away. He hadn't remembered either of those things in a long while. He could practically feel his mother's hand on her head as she ruffled his hair. He could feel the sting of his eyes, tears. He shoved them down quickly, looking around at the ruins around him for a moment before speaking, "Where exactly are we? I've studied many ruins but have never seen anything like these... not to mention, where did you get your hands on a wyvern? How high ranking of a knight exactly are you?" he found himself asking as he turned his foggy brain back onto something to focus on.

he still had no clue where he was or how he got here. His memory was foggy with pain; all he could remember was the procedure. He found himself ghosting his hand over his eye again, feeling the dented part of his skin. Had the procedure failed? He could feel the humming of mana from them as if it were stored on his skin. The promise was for a second storage of mana, but to think it could have resulted in anything but his death? Part of him wondered if he was disappointed that it didn't. The more he focused on them, the more pain that came to the front of his mind. He returned to the commentary hazy bliss of being mana-deprived, where the pain was almost absent. Staring at the last bit of the flesh for a moment, another question came out of his mouth,

"what year is it?"
mentions | Juju
interactions | Juju

 

[blankcanvas]

Rena slowly continued to move forward, one foot in front of the other, briefly giving each a reprieve before submerging them back into the chilling water. She tried her best to ignore the aching pain she felt throughout her entire body, desperately trying to stave away the sweet temptation to make this her permanent resting site.

The blue-haired female closed her eyes, rubbed them with the back of her wet, cold sleeves, before opening them again. The scene had not changed. The sky was still a blanket of dull grey clouds, obscuring everything from view. They seemed to hang low, almost as if they were pressed down onto this plane of existence. The clouds were a uniform shade of nothing, with there being no hint of a break in the monochromatic landscape. This only served as a catalyst for the cracks that would start forming in her already constant dreary state.

The only thing that kept her from reaching a certain sense of madness, was the guidance of the uncertain voice. With no sense of direction, she had no idea the proximity between herself and this unknown entity. However, her mind appeared to be slipping into a state of blended delusion. It seemed as though every step she took was now accompanied by harrowing ghostly clinks of that which echoed screams from her distant past. It was an unsettling sound, a somber reminder of imprisonment and the dark whispers of a disastrous memory. The sound lingered in the air, slightly reverberating through the air which sent chills down her spine.

Chalking it up to the cold atmosphere, Rena ignored it all and continued to press onward, hoping to find the source of the atonal voice.

Finally, when her body was about to collapse, she heard the faint, melodic voice that she had been chasing.

"Ah, at last...Long have I waited patiently for this day...that I might speak with you, my precious child."

Rena let out a sigh of relief as she fell back down to the cold water. Now, all she had to do was wait until...until...

The half-elf covered her ears as her body rolled up into a fetal position. Her heartbeat began to accelerate, her breathing became much more shallow, and her mind was racing in every direction. Snippets of memory began to flood into her, none of them making much sense. At this point, she had drowned out everything aside from her own thoughts.

Why was she hesitating? For most of her life, she never really had a choice and always did what she was expected of her to do. Why would it be any different this time around? All she had to do was take the final step and reach out to that which called out to her.

As the fissure in her mind continued to grow, her descent into madness was all but guaranteed. There was nothing else left to do but surrender and allow herself to be consumed by the void that lay beyond the crack in her sanity. As she embraced it, her senses began to become overloaded with the most vivid of flavours and sounds. She felt a strange pleasure mingled with fear as the colors of the world slowly disintegrated, leaving her with merely the cacophony of madness tingling at the back of her mind.

It was then that she heard the low mumblings of a murmur sharply cutting through the muddled mess. Rena suddenly opened her eyes as she picked herself up from the dark, muddy water. Taking a deep breath, she steadied herself on shaky legs as she held her head for a few seconds.

She still didn't understand much of what was happening, but one thing was clear on what she had to do. The half-elf had a smile on her face as she moved forward once again towards the honey-laced voice. However, stopping before the final stride, she pressed her left hand against her chest and smiled.

"Thank you...you must be tired...I will do the rest now..." Rena managed to weakly say in between her coughs as she reached forward. All the other times, there were no other options but to do as she was told. This time? She was going to choose...

 

[Juju]

VVitch & Flub seasonedcat
“Hey, I’m back~!” VVitch announced as she skipped her way back into the clearing, “What did I miss?”

Her cheerful voice was a stark contrast to the miserable conditions of her would-be allies, the smile on her face almost oblivious to the dire situation they all found themselves in. She held Flub loosely under her arm, his form jiggling like a ragdoll with each of her movements.

VVitch glanced down at Zereth and tilted her head quizzically, “Aww Zareth, you must be all tuckered out from the fight! Not to worry, VVitch is here to save the day! Both of you take it easy and leave it all to me!”

Frilled skirts ruffled as VVitch twirled around and skipped towards the wounded wyvern. At the motion, the beast narrowed its eyes and hissed, unwelcome to VVitch’s advance.

“Whoa now, big guy! I’m here to help you,” VVitch wagged a finger in chastisement, “So you be a good boy and sit still. I’ll get you out of that bind in no time! Just you wait. Alright everyone let’s--”

VVitch turned around to face a camera that wasn’t there and then paused, blinking in surprise. “Oh hehe, sorry. It’s a habit. I keep forgetting I’m offline!”

Clearing her throat, VVitch regained her composure. She grabbed Flub and threw him up over the dragon. He spun in the air, rose, fell, and then landed with a heavy plop on the other side of the dragon, where the piece of broken tower had crushed the wyvern’s wing beneath it.

The little slime wiggled his way through the space between the rubble and the wyvern’s wing, disappearing from sight.

“Alright Flub, time for Mega Mode!” VVitch shouted, striking a ridiculous pose. With an upbeat melody she sang, “Go, go! Give it all you’ve got~”

There was a shift in the rubble as Flub’s form expanded beneath the pillar like a balloon. Bright purple and green slime pushed the broken stones away and slowly lifted the remains of the pillar upwards. Soon enough Flub’s form grew so big that the pillar was hoisted up just enough for the wyvern to drag its wing from out beneath the pillar.

“Come on, big guy! That’s it! Go, go!” VVitch cheered while hopping up and down in place, encouraging the wyvern to tug its wing away from the trap that had pinned it.

Meanwhile, Flub wiggled, his form strained beneath the weight of the pillar. Although he had reached his maximum size (roughly that of an elephant) his slime was slowly shrinking from the effort it took to hold the weight aloft. It was clear he could not maintain this for much longer.

 

[ThatWhichShouldBe]

Han Liuyang

"Your Spirits have already aided us once in saving your life, Toko- As ever, it is the time of mortals to decide the world's course!"

Han dances among the flames, his short blade parrying the Knight's blows while his lashing blade strikes out at the knight. Flame and efficient movement meets Han's blade-arts, skill matched against skill. For the King of the Rising Sun was no rank amateur, no young warrior. He knew war as intimately as a son knows their father, had been fighting since his earliest days on a thousand battlefields. That he lacks the full power of the divine now was an impediment- but he was no slouch with his skills that such a loss was crippling.

And besides, he had his own tricks.

The Knight finds Han's weapons suddenly changing in the midst of their battle, flowing from blade-whip to a mighty hammer that batters his defenses with cannon-like blows, before the weapon flows into a wickedly-slashing halberd. Han was a master of all weapons, and with his Moonsilver Bracelets, he could bring all of his skill to bear, constantly changing weapons and tactics to throw the Knight off and force him off-balance. And even if the Knight was faster than any man in armor had any right being...

Han was not one bound to mortality's base limits either. He is always wherever the Knight least wishes that he is, moving across the ground with bursts and flashes of ridiculously fast movement. Even the skies are not safe, as Han leaps into the air to strike from above, before jumping off the air to reach the ground. Perhaps the only means by which the Knight finds to limit Han's movements is by threatening the Priestess, at which Han is forced back to defend her.

 

[Juju]

The rain begins to die down, what was once a heavy downpour now fading into a drizzle.

• Lake
• Ruin
• Frontline Retreat
• Flank
• ???

• 
  November Witch
  The creature remained silent, allowing Autumn to say everything she could to answer the spirit’s unusual, and quite possibly fatal question. All the while it stared at her without eyes, somehow judging her for more than eyes ever could. Finally, after everything was said, the creature gave a little nod.
  
  “Hmm. Thou has answered one’s question as requested–” the creature wiggled its fluffy tail and made a thoughtful sound like a bird’s chirp, “And answered most oddly. Thou lies, but not consciously. Thy answer has sated this one.”
  
  Their head rotated from side to side inquisitively, “Most curious. Though not a child, this one concludes that thou hast fallen from the stars. Mayhaps this one was wrong upon first inspection…”
  
  The creature trailed off only to make another hackling sound, “Ill manners notwithstanding.”
  
  They regarded Autumn once more, considering her request for guidance, “The manner of thy arrival matters little in regards to thy bearings. The malady of a lost mind spurs the wandering of feet. In the act of surveying one’s footprints, one loses sight of the path ahead.”
  
  With a little jump, the creature hopped onto a nearby stone and sat themselves neatly at its point, tail curled around their dainty paws. By now the rain was dying down into a drizzle and the waves of the lake were growing smaller.
  
  “A journey cannot begin without first the clarity of mind. This one begs yet another question. Who art thee and thy desire? Why art thou here, not how.”
  
  

  ---

  
  ThatWhichShouldBe
  The knight kept pace with Han’s flurry of strikes. He adapted quickly to the change of weapons, red feline eyes shining out from beneath the darkness of his helm. Soon enough the burst of flames from his shield died down into embers, though the ferocity of his attacks showed no sign of slowing.
  
  Han did well at keeping the knight at bay, but it did not take him long to notice the crippling flaw in Han’s defense; the priestess. Any time Han began to gain the upperhand, the knight would counter by changing focus on the Priestess cowering behind Han, forcing him to adjust into a more defensive stance.
  
  It was something that was not lost upon Toko, who only looked on in abject horror as the blue knight tried again and again to cut her down for the sake of distracting Han.
  
  “I…” Toko looked frightened, baffled even at Han’s suggestion to give up on her prayers.
  
  She glanced around frantically, shying away from the fast-paced battle between Han and the knight. The sluggishness of her response along with the hesitation in her voice seemed to suggest that unlike Han, the battlefield was far from her home.
  
  Her eye caught something floating on the surface of the lake, her peculiar headdress made in the image of a giant fish. Toko blinked at it for a moment before becoming spurred by an idea.
  
  “I can help…” she sputtered, suddenly determined to do something.
  
  Contrary to her words, instead of rushing to Han’s side she dove into the lake. She swam towards the headdress, treading the water as swiftly as a fish even while holding onto the orb with one hand. While she may be a stranger to the field of battle, the lake seemed to be a different story.
  
• 
  seasonedcat
  A look of confusion glinted in Ser Taenirah’s strange eyes, one that quickly sharpened into concern.
  
  “Did you hit your head during the fight?” she asked seriously, taking a closer look at his head for any wounds but finding none. “Or is this a side effect of a spell?”
  
  Metal clicked together as the knight reached up with gauntleted hands to remove her helm. She tucked it under her arm and stared down at Zareth with an expression that suggested she was waiting to see his reaction.
  
  Her skin was a rich brown, pigmented with circular tattoos under her eyes and down the centre of her forehead. With her helmet removed, Zareth could more clearly see her unnatural eyes. They were a burning blue, glowing in the dimness of the night and slitted like that of a cat.
  
  She regarded him closely, almost suspiciously, “You really don’t know? I guess that explains some things. I’m a wyvernknight, the highest order of noble knights in Wyverria, though it doesn’t hold the exact same weight in the dynasty.”
  
  With a nod, she motioned towards the wyvern, “Baelarys has been bound to me since we were both children, being a first generation wyvern. I’ll spare you the details of the other ceremonies.”
  
  “As for where you are, the elves have simply called it ‘The Lands Beyond’. You’ll have to ask the bookworms more about these ruins,” she shrugged, lacking the curiosity that Zareth had, “My brother and I were not deployed here for research.”
  
  Her attention was immediate diverted to VVitch’s overexcited offers to help. At the same moment her wyvern tensed up, so did the knight. She rested her hand on the hilt of her sword, but did little else. Turning away from Zareth, she strode up to stand beside VVitch, overseeing her efforts to apparently free her dragon.
  
  Judging by VVitch’s rather skinny physique, the knight seemed highly doubtful of her promise to free her wyvern from his snare. To her surprise, she watched the rubble slowly lift from above the jelly monstrosity.
  
  The wyvern let out a long screech of pain, then shuffled away from the rubble that had once pinned it. Steam rose up from the beast’s nostrils as it sat with its wing tucked against its side, exhausted and panting with pain.
  
  Ser Taenirah rushed over to the wyvern’s side, placing her hand on its broken wing and inspecting it with a grave look on her face.
  
  “He won’t be able to fly for the foreseeable future. Lady Lunni and Sylvyrmyst can provide their aid, but we must first return to the forward camp. Until then, we are forced to make the journey on land. It will be a difficult one...”
  
• 
  Solirus
  The commander’s smirk was neither hostile nor taunting, but surprisingly warm for the otherwise steeled expression of the woman. It made the crows-feet at the corner of her eyes crease, highlighting the wistful look they had. It was almost like she was remembering something or someone.
  
  “Aye, that I do,” she chuckled, eyes following Rodal’s shift in stance.
  
  As a fellow summoner of weapons, she prepared to react to a strike only to realize it never came. She grunted in annoyance, “Did anyone tell you that you’re too clever for your own good, boy."
  
  She continued to dance with Rodal, a balance between reacting to his feints and making attacks of her own. All the while her sword continued to drink in the blood that slowly dropped from her arm. Soon she began to make feints of her own, trying to lure Rodal into a strike.
  
  One in particular involved the commander swinging in one direction, while the red claw from her sword lashed out for his neck with its needle-thin talons. The woman and whatever was in her sword moved separately and yet in cooperation. Much as Rodal and Leva might communicate, it seemed to suggest that like themselves, sword and warrior had two separate wills. Though it was unclear just how much agency the sword had.
  
  

  ---

  YsFanatic
  The sword twisted out of the way, as if aware of the new powers of her blade, but with a technique that was a little less polished than the old veteran. Sarah adjusted to accommodate the sword's change in direction and her follow up attack met its mark. With a loud crack, like the sound moments before an avalanche, the two swords collided.
  
  Sarah could feel the Floating Sword shiver beneath the weight of her strike, ringing with an unusual sound much like a bell. The blade cracked, but did not split.
  
  “Hmph, it resists!” the bull called out from where it lay wounded in the soil, “It shall witness the might of the earthen spirits!”
  
  The earthen glow from within Sarah’s makeshift blade heightened, making her own blade shift like tectonic plates in motion. The slate shards that composed her sword rippled, allowing the glow to well up. Like molten metal being poured into a mould, the glow seeped into the cracks of the Floating Blade from where Sarah had struck it.
  
  An otherworldly shriek erupted from the blade just moments before it burst into a shower of shards. Where the blade once floated was now a thin flask-like object with one sharp point, like a stake of wood. Its hollow inside was filled with a glowing red fluid. Without the sword, the flask fell to the ground and sunk into the mud, lifeless save for the red liquid that swirled wildly around its glass prison.
  
  

  ---

  SirDerpingtonIV
  There was a loud explosion as the sword thrown at Natalie’s mech exploded into a burst of sanguine energy, buffeting the mech backwards and causing some alarms to go off within. The front armor was too dense for the commander’s sword to pierce through it and skewer Natalie from within, as was the intent, but it was enough to break into the outer layer of armor. Shining scratches littered the front of the mech from where the blast had torn away the deep maroon paint of the mech, exposing the metal beneath.
  
  The sword withdrew to reveal a deep rent in the front of the armor where the sword had punctured through to over half of its length. Natalie hadn’t been harmed, and most the internal workings had been spared, but the breach in the armor created a lasting vulnerability.
  
• 
  Astrylan
  “What is a continent?” one wolf asked, confused.
  
  “Can you eat it?” the other added, curiously.
  
  Both listened to Aryia’s explanation of the prey running away from the battlefield, which judging by their nods, seemed to be something they were aware of. “Prey runs from fire and blood. Good hunting is only in forest now.”
  
  “Elf-kin appeared on shores of River-End. Out from fog. Have been here too long. Take too much.”
  
  The other wolf interjected with a growl, “Not take. Destroy. Broke shining salt-light. Then take temple later.”
  
  “No, elf-kin take first!” The first wolf’s hackles were raised, and it looked like the two were soon to be at eachothers throats, “Hunting is poor since the arrival of the three flying lizards. They eat all the good prey, and elf-kin take the rest. Scare them away with clumsy feet! It is their fault!”
  
  It was unclear if the two wolves could agree on the same timeline of events, but Aryia could maybe gather some useful information from it. Assuming any of it was true.
  
  

  ---

  jmann
  If the mage could understand Gamma’s words, she ignored them. Instead, she crawled in a desperate attempt to reunite with her staff, her battered hand extended towards it.
  
  Then Gamma’s shadow fell upon her, and his blade soon after. There was a flash of steel and then a scream from the elf as her hand withdrew, now a bloody mess.
  
  The wolf matriarch, Oshaka, still struggled with the unicorn, but after hearing its companion’s screams of agony, it seemed the tide shifted. The unicorn fumbled, and the wolf’s fangs were quick to pounce on the opportunity. Pearly teeth laced in frost dug into the neck of the creature. Silver blood pooled in the sodden ground below. The only thing keeping the wolf’s maw from snapping the unicorn’s neck was the fading bloom of white magic that shone from its horn.
  
  Sobbing in pain, the mage’s wild eyes flicked up at Gamma and then to her unicorn. Between cries she muttered something in elvish, or at least Gamma would recognize it as elvish. Even though he had learned only fragmented words and phrases, he found himself able to understand her words perfect. “By the goddess' will. Oh, Sylvyrmyst….”
  
  Harsh light glowed from her staff, searing the ground around it and turning the raindrops into puffs of vaporous mist. Arcane magic was thick in the air, pulsating from the artefact in waves as the white mage channeled some sort of last-ditch spell from it.
  
  Rain and tears were slick on the mage’s face as she glared up at Gammariah with all the ferocity of a cornered animal. Like the deer pinned beneath the lion, she understood what was about to occur, and perhaps that clarity was the greatest source of might. At the end, there was nothing to lose.
  
  Arcane sigils burned to life across the mage’s skin, as soon she herself was glowing in the rainy night. She began to pray, channeling her energy into some potent spell “Light of Astell…”
  
• 
  blankcanvas
  The voice in the mist was laced with happiness at Rena’s dismissal of the quiet words that had struggled to surface.
  
  “Yes, child. Sleep calls to the dreamer, a place where they belong. Weariness begs for respite. You possess wisdom beyond your years...”
  
  Something stirred in the mist as Rena reached out her hand, making the cloudy walls stir and dance. The clatter of chains was drowned out in the delicate music, its beautiful and yet unheard choir filling both ear and heart with warmth.
  
  Whatever the smaller voice had been, it was now completely silenced.
  
  The black water beneath Rena’s feet cleared, shimmering with flecks of gold that made hypnotizing swirls with every flow of the water. Now that she was closer, Rena could see massive white feathers peeking out from the mist. Their soft edges brushed the water, each larger than Rena’s arms. The golden flecks in the water danced around them, like little fireflies in a jar of pristine water.
  
  Something brilliant shone from beyond the veil of mist, shimmering like a newborn star just an arms reach away from Rena. Yet just before Rena could touch whatever was in the mist, the water splashed up from beneath her.
  
  Thick black roots sprung up from the water, twisting around Rena’s outstretched arm and dragging it harshly down, forcing her to fall forward into the water. The shallow water was black again, and alive with the squirming of worm-like roots that wrapped around her arms and legs, constricting her movements and making it difficult to breathe. The water was cold and lightless, as if stretching for great depths instead of the shallows she waded through.
  
  Chains rattled and the once beautiful voice spilled over with rage.
  
  “NO!”
  
  The waters rose up around Rena like a black mirror. She sunk into it, pulled down by the thick vines choking her.
  
  Then the darkness swallowed her
  
  

  ---

  
  Rena awoke to find herself face down in the grass. She was drenched in water, her body chilled to the bone. When she finally recovered enough to take a look at her surroundings she would notice that she was no longer where the little creature had ‘smited’ her. In place of the crater, she was in a grassy patch of land that bordered a large lake. Large island-likes structures floated above the lake, stretching ever upwards until the last of them disappeared in the thick clouds.
  
  A large blue wyvern circled around the centre of the lake, its attention spent on whatever was upon the small island there.
  
  Besides these bizarre features, Rena could hear an all-too familiar voice. The creature who had ‘smited’ her was nearby, talking to a woman who appeared to be half-fox.
  
  
  [Rena finds herself at [LAKE]]​

 

[November Witch]

Autumn Ichor

Status: Fearful, guilty, confused , uninjured.

Autumn watched as the little creature replied, interspersed with little chirps and other odd sounds that seemed to be emotional cues. She listened as it spoke, and simply became even more confused… It said she lied, while Autumn hadn’t even known she had. Whatever this creature was, it had a wealth of knowledge at its disposal if it could know that. Or it had some ability to discern truths. Her point of view on this creature changed. If it had so much knowledge, it was likely powerful.

Autumn felt slightly relieved as she felt the rain begin to let up. But it did little to help her discomfort. She was now soaked to the bone and cold. She hoped she wouldn’t get some sort of illness due to this. The fox wanted to pose the question ‘Why ask if you already know’ but she felt as if simply going along with the creature and answering its questions would be the best course of action now. So she kept her mouth shut until it started to ask her more questions. Questions she didn’t exactly have an answer to yet.

“I am Autumn Ichor, and I desire change. Arguments, and disputes to be solved through words and negotiations. Not swords and wars.”

Autumn offered this as an answer to the first question. This was her desire in her previous life. Something she worked and strived to accomplish. However, she had no idea what she could do here to incite change as she had always planned. She had no reputation and no connections in this world. Attempting to break into politics would be near impossible now.

“As for why… I honestly couldn’t tell you. I went to bed one night and when I opened my eyes and saw the sky above.”

Autumn admitted, looking back up towards the sky as she relived that moment mentally.

“Looking around, this place obviously isn’t my world. I don’t know why I’m here, or what greater power could even make such a thing happen.”

Autumn returned her gaze to her hands which she looked at down in her lap. Autumn clenched her fists and took in the sights around the battlefield once more… Only to see a bright silver light, almost like that of a beacon in the direction the mage had been before. It was too far away to tell exactly what was happening. But the large wolf and unicorn were big enough to make out. She could see the wolf on top of the other only for the other form to stop moving. Her breath hitched in her throat, desperately trying to figure out what figures belong to which person. But it was so far, all figures looked the same.

Her eyes couldn’t see a figure reaching the retreating lines though, which made Autumn’s heart sink. She didn’t make it. The fox clenched her fists so hard they started shaking. In her right hand, blood mixed with the rain that rolled down her skin. She argued with herself again in her mind.

If only she stayed, maybe she could have done something. Maybe she could have saved that girl.

But she couldn’t fight. She couldn’t use magic well. What could she have even done?

Autumn’s breathing was rough as she struggled to control her emotions. The horrors of war were incredibly stressful for someone seeing them for the first time. She’d all but forgotten about the creature next to her as she fought her feelings. She tried to take a deep breath, which caught in her throat. A sob threatened to open the floodgates. Autumn tried once more to take a deep breath, and was successful this time. However, she had to close her eyes to keep the tears at bay.

It was all just too overwhelming. She couldn’t think straight anymore while a literal war waged around her. Autumn even failed to notice a woman appear nearby with pretty blue hair.

 

[SirDerpingtonIV]

NATALIE WELLES​

A warning was called out to her. The old woman in the... strange attire was speaking to her. The blades were magical, and could damage her armor. Natalie processed the information. She'd seen powers before, magic, even. She didn't know what this world had in store. She said nothing in response, continuing to trudge forward, each footfall punching holes in the earth beneath her feet. With little moment's preparation, a sword came flying her way. It had seemed that the enemy Commander had overheard and listened to the old woman's advice as well. Half way through the air, the sword was replaced by another through some means, bursting with red, bloody light. Natalie had no time to dodge the incoming weapon of course, even without the several tons of titanium about her body she wasn't exactly nimble. So, Natalie braced herself. She stopped moving, stepped one foot forward and stood rigid, preparing to take the blow. One of the first things she had been taught in the use of mechanized suits was to trust them. Even if all her instincts called out to evade a blow, she should trust the armor. It was resilient, even more than she was, and time wasted on dodging attacks she didn't need to dodge would be less time spent killing her enemies.

So, Natalie took the blow. A miscalculation. A burst of red light, the scream of steel on steel, and Natalie was sent back over ten feet, armored boots leaving deep gashes in the earth like the wakes of two twin warships through the ground. Alarms and warning lights flashed and blared, warning her of hull damage. Rather significant hull damage too, for just some magical sword. Natalie grit her teeth, anger burning within her. The armor was prized to her, valuable, and to have it damaged so soon was more than a little annoying for the hell she had found herself in.

Beneath it all she was unharmed of course, Natalie doubted there was anything in this hell at all capable of taking the kind of blows that her armor could. But she wasn't fond of the idea that the magic of this hell could possibly penetrate her defenses. One thing to take away from this mistake, was that this magic was powerful. Very powerful. Most firearms couldn't even do such damage, bullets harmlessly ricocheting off the chassis. The claws of mutants grazed off in sparks. It was only the larger things, and the things with powers that posed a threat in the world she had come from. The world of the living, perhaps. But here - new threats. New dangers.

They'd all be killed the same. It was all Natalie knew.

Elsewhere on the field the bull-spirit helped the old woman do battle with one of the blades, glowing red and flying about on its own. As if wielded by an invisible warrior. And before her, a human with some other magical weapon dueled the Commander. They were both talented combatants, their blades meeting over and over again, as if in some sort of majestic dance. From the foe's sword came magical claws, the weapon acting as if possessed, seperate from the foe's mind but just as willing to kill. Or- at least she could guess. It was beyond her how any of this worked.

How it worked didn't matter either. She didn't need to know that to tear it apart - though it would help. Natalie raised her wrist once more, the HUD and internal computers helping her line up her shot, the twin barrels of Mauler centered on the enemy commander. Center mass, nothing fancy. With weapons like hers, trying for headshots was unnecessary on anything but the largest of monsters. She waited, just a moment, until the Commander seemed to still for just a moment before she tensed her finger. With a thunderous blast a singular twelve gauge shell tore through the air, leaden death sent howling at the Commander at speeds of over two thousand feet a second.

Fifteen Slugs remaining.

Juju YsFanatic Solirus

 

[YsFanatic]

The destruction of the sword was far easier than expected, showing that her decision to rely on the bull's power to be the correct one. However, a small vial of red liquid remained, and Sarah had no doubt that it was some kind of core that allowed the swords to fight as they did. As tempting as it was to simply smash the vial, there were plenty of cases of doing so recklessly caused more problems down the line. Instead it would be more prudent to ask the bull what they thought once the battle was over. However, she wasn't going to touch it with her bare hand, just in case that was also a bad idea. Instead she reversed her grip on the sword, freeing up a few earth armored fingers that she used to quickly scoop into a belt pouch, trusting the bull creature's power to prevent any issues.

Standing back up, the swordswoman took one step towards the commander when she heard a sound from behind that caught her attention. A quick glance back to see the power armor raising a gun equipped arm caused Sarah to instinctively adjust the pace of her approach. Many, many years of fighting alongside people using a wide variety of firearms had taught her how to get in range for a strike just as the ranged attack hit, or right after, and how to do so without getting caught in the line of fire. Judging by the appearance of the armor and how it was moving, Sarah had a fairly good idea at how quickly it could bring up its arm and fire, and in her prime she would have had no issue matching the timing. But in her current state it would take just about everything she had left to do so, but it would be worth it to bring the battle to an end.

Her body screamed in pain as she sped up, but the older woman was able to push it aside and remain focused on the task at hand. Sarah heard the thunderous roar of the weapon as she closed in on the commander's flank and as quick as she could manage, at which point she lashed out against the sword in the other woman's hand with a two handed swing of her own.

Juju Solirus SirDerpingtonIV

 

[ThatWhichShouldBe]

Han Liuyang

With the priestess diving into the lake, Han grins at the knight. Truthfully, even if the Priestess never emerged from the lake with whatever trick she could come up with, removing herself from the equation was the best thing the Priestess could have done in that situation. Now the Han was no longer tied down by defending her, Han could make the most use of his skills- for the arena favored him far more than it did the Knight.

Han begins to harass the Knight constantly, his blade-whip re-appearing as it lashes out. The Knight would close the distance in order to prevent Han from exploiting his reach advantage, of course- But now that the Priestess was gone, Han could simply leap to another floating platform, using it as a position from which to strike out at the Knight with his blade-whip.

And so began a deadly game, as Han harried the Knight from just outside the man's reach, only to slip out of their grasp the moment the Knight attempted to punish Han for his temerity. After all, it wasn't Han on the offensive here- and should the Knight think to dive into the lake to pursue the priestess despite his armored form, then Han could lash out with his whip and knock the Knight about, forcing them to remain engaged in battle.

There was one matter, however, that could spell trouble- The Wyvern. Han keeps an eye out as he dances with the Knight, ready in the event the Wyvern dove upon the Priestess. If it did, it'd find Han diving after it, ready to intercept the scaled creature with his impossible leaping abilities, and utilizing the change to attack the vulnerable flyer.

 

[Solirus]

Rodal​

Rodal's feints worked well to delay any further aggressive strikes from the officer, it felt more akin to a dance, each of the fighters taking turns. Eventually however the officer started throwing feints of her own goading Rodal to strike. He himself however had no plan to truly strike and yet the claw that appeared from the officers blade grazed Rodal's throat. Remaining unfazed, Rodal took a back step and raising his right arm, he caught Brimstone who had followed a stable path as the storm died down.

Without hesitation, Rodal threw Brimstone at the officer like a hatchet, aiming for her wounded arm and then flipped a safe distance away, kicking up mud along the way. It didn't matter if Brimstone connected or not, the goal was to create pressure so his seeming allies could have an easier time striking the officer. Without looking, Rodal ripped Blizzard from the mud it had frozen after landing. Still having a couple minutes left for the blades, Rodal slowly circled the officer, waiting patiently for a new opportunity to arise.

 

[Juju]

• Lake
• Frontlines

• 
  November Witch blankcanvas
  “Hmph!” the spirit scoffed, their little voice rattling with bitterness. “To dream of mortals without needless conflict is to dream of trees without leaves. It is simply in their nature. Short, fragile lives invite brutality it seems. Still, thy intentions are noble. Perhaps thou art cut of a different cloth, or foolish. Well met, Autumn Ichor.”
  
  While at first dismissive, the creature tilted their head from side to side like a curious owl. They did not immediately answer her claims of spawning from a different reality at the whim of some great power. The creature hummed thoughtfully to itself.
  
  “Thou doth carry an unusual scent. This one first believed it to be Outlander in origin, but–” the creature stood and hopped closer to sniff Autumn, their tail wiggling from side to side, “perhaps this one was mistaken. The unknown clings to thee like mist, like ripples in water. If change is what thou seeks, thy very well may be its bringer.”
  
  They hopped back and made a chittering sound before introducing themselves in kind, “This one is known in your tongue as Gentle Dance of Light on the Forest Path. To The Children this one is simply called Light Path. Thou may use this when addressing this one, should thou wish.”
  
  Light Path’s gaze seemed to follow Autumn’s own, turning their head towards the retreat of the Astellian forces and the bloom of silver light in the distance. At this moment they also seemed to take note of Rena’s return. They made a small chitter, their fur ruffling up around their face. It seemed as if they were uncertain about something Autumn had said, or perhaps concerned.
  
  “The power to transcend the fabric of being is one beyond all spirits and mortal kind alike. Enlightened Spirits may alter the world and its energies around them, but what thou claims is far above what is known. Only the Great Life Spirit may tend to the barrier between the two worlds of life and death…”
  
  The creature hummed again, thoughtfully. “Mayhaps you are reborn as an agent of the Great Life Spirit’s will? They whom are ever wise and the origin of all that is good. Fallen stars and strange-scented beings. It must be a sign…”
  
  Light Path stood up and hopped over the grass and stones towards Rena, “This way, this way! One requires thy assistance in gathering yet another fallen star. Signs must be interpreted by the seers.”
  
  They led Autumn towards Rena’s collapsed form on the grass, barely conscious and covered in black water. Without much explanation, Light Path hopped onto Rena and began to paw at her face in an attempt wake her back into reality.
  
  
  

  ---

  ThatWhichShouldBe
  Han’s ‘dance’ with the knight continued its infernal pace. While the knight’s intention had been to take the orb from Toko, he only spared her a glance as she dove into the waters of the lake with it. Being clad in plate armour made it not only impossible to keep pace with someone, but also a death sentence in deep water. Even the most gifted swimmers could not compete with the deadly pull of gravity.
  
  Before the knight could think to chase after Toko, he would have to first deal with Han. While the quick shift in weapons gave Han the upper hand in range and unpredictability, the knight had managed to hold his own against their onslaught. A few of Han’s blows had managed to hit the knight, but the thick blue armour did well to sustain only scratches and chips from the flurry of blows. Han’s sun-fire imbued strikes did little against the tell-tale flame resistance of the wyvernknight’s armor.
  
  As Toko retreated into the water, the wyvern immediately took notice, or perhaps was somehow told her location by the knight as he glanced at her retreat. The giant creature tilted its wings and circled around the floating islands, diving towards Toko. While quick to approach her, the wyvern was slowed by the effort of maneuvering the floating rocks, giving Han just enough time to make his attempt in intercepting the beast.
  
  The moment Han turned his attention away, the knight lunged at him with his blade. Only Han’s supernatural speed saved him from being run through with the sword, though the blade did manage to slice the cloth of his flowing tunic during his retreat.
  
  Out in the water, Toko reunited with her headdress mere seconds before the Wyvern’s arrival, and wasted no time in grabbing the fish-like costume and diving down into the water. She didn’t even have time to notice Han’s heroic efforts to divert the beast’s attention before she disappeared into the water, or his success in doing so.
  
  The blue wyvern reacted to Han far quicker than it should have, as if given an early warning from what should have been an opportunity to strike the creature unawares. Its burning blue eyes shot towards Han the moment he propelled himself through the air. Wings outstretched, fangs parted, and the beast turned on Han.
  
  Blue flames exploded in the air, turning the humid mists to steam. The blast of fire sent both Han and some of the small floating rocks flying backwards against the larger islands, charred and broken.
  
  

  Han is seriously injured from the wyvern’s flames! Severe burns cover his skin, his life spared only by the unusual defenses of his flesh. While he yet lives, the Sun King would know agony in every movement. Ironically, he had been given a taste of what it felt to be on the receiving end of fiery wrath.

  
  The impact of the islands crashing against each other caused them to shift. Some sunk down towards the water, pulled by the chains that link them. Han was thrown upon one of these low-hanging islands from the fire blast. The landing was hard, but the blue flames that continued to bathe across the islands were for the most part blocked by the islands floating around him. He would be safe from the wyvern for as long as he remained within their loose circle.
  
  A roar erupted from the blue wyvern as it continued to circle the cluster of floating islands in an attempt to find another opening to attack Han.
  
  If he took the time to look, Han wouldn’t see Toko anywhere in the water, though he would have seen her previously dive below the waves with her headdress. He also saw the platform that he and the wyvernknight had used for their fight… yet the knight was nowhere to be seen.
  
  The only warning Han got was the rush of wind on steel as the knight leapt down from above Han, blade aimed to behead the fallen Sun King.
  
• 
  YsFanatic SirDerpingtonIV Solirus
  Sarah had been wise to use the protection of her earthen armor when she chose to pluck the red vial from the mud. The fluid inside swirled eagerly as the stone made contact with the glass, illuminating the rocky gauntlets that grasped it. Even beneath all the armor, Sarah could feel a chill across her fingers that lingered even after she deposited the vial safely(?) in her bag.
  
  She heard the Bull’s gruff voice call out to her, “Hmp! One is lucky to have been blessed! That energy would have surely harmed you had it not been for my protection!”
  
  While it pridefully reminded Sarah of its blessing, the Bull did not seem to be in good shape. The creature’s head was now laid on the ground, exhausted and wounded. What strange light burned in its chest was dimmed now, something that was reflected in the earthen sword Sarah carried with her into battle. The energy powering it was fading.
  
  Steam erupted from the bull's nostrils in impatience, “No more wasting time, mortal! Make use of this blessing and crush that Outlander and her damned swords!”
  
  Instead of blocking Brimstone, as whatever holding the whip-blade had done, the commander drew her blade close and dodged to the side, grimacing from the pain in her leg. By now the blood flow had slowed, though globules still rose up to be consumed by her blade’s crimson gem.
  
  The effort to avoid Rodal’s strike left an opening that was quickly taken advantage of by Sarah to close the gap and follow up with a strike timed with the shot from Nat. First the shotgun, and then the blade.
  
  Natalie’s aim was minimal, yet enough for the leaden death to fire at its target. The bullet shot through the air with a roar like thunder loud enough to drown out the sound of a bell. As a last ditch defense, the ‘exploding sword’ that had struck Natalie had been summoned in front of the commander, tanking the majority of the shot. The sword shook from the impact, howling as if a beast was trapped inside. Chips marred its edges and a crack had appeared on its width, dripping a red fluid. While it had sustained the shot, it looked like one hit of a similar caliber would be enough to break it completely.
  
  A mere moment after the gunshot, Sarah made her attack. With experienced aim she went for the commander's longsword, yet her strike met not with the blade, but with the supernatural claw summoned from it, chopping the phantom limb from its host. There was an awful shriek as the ghostly limb fell and dissipated into red smoke, born from whatever power was hidden within the blade. It seemed that whatever being was inside was aware of the earthen blade’s power and made a choice. While the blade had been spared, it seemed that the phantom limb may be out of commission for some time. How long exactly was unknown.
  

 

[YsFanatic]

Sarah grimaced at the results of the combined attack, not only because it hadn't worked quite as well as she had hoped, but also because her vision started to swim. She blinked her eyes a few times in an attempt to clear her vision even as she unsteadily tried to remain standing. However, the combined wounds and the stress of combat was too much for her body as she fell unconscious. The body of the old woman fell onto her side, her right hand barely in contact with the earth-blessed sword.

Juju Solirus SirDerpingtonIV