• This section is for roleplays only.
    ALL interest checks/recruiting threads must go in the Recruit Here section.

    Please remember to credit artists when using works not your own.
Characters
Here
Lore
Here
Other
Here

InsaneAsylum

The Chocobo Champion
Chapter 1Next in Line

ӨᕓПՆϺ Ɣ▍ԖΛϺ╥Ħ ⴿƵԖΛϺ

————————————

Grenouille City
4:00 AM


Standing alone by the map table stood a tall woman. She was fully equipped in armor, with deep blue cloth half-cape. The various cuts in the armor gave evidence to time in battle. Her blonde hair was tied up in a loose bun on her head. Stern green eyes gazed down at the map table, examining the various pieces placed on the map with veteran practice. Leaning against the table beside her was her claymore. It had a blue hilt, and a silver colored blade. It was a sword passed down to the greatest warriors in Rivienne, The Challenger.


“General Goldelle, they have arrived,” spoke a young man peeking his head into the war room.


“Let them in.”


The scraggly young man nodded, and closed the door behind before turning to address the crowd of nobles on the other side of the door. He wore simple leather armor, and had the standard stock longsword at his side.


“Thank you all for coming,” he began with crossed arms. “When you enter the room, please take your seats around the table. Do not touch the map table, or any of the pieces on it. General Goldelle will inform you of your mission shortly…Oh yea... only nobility is allowed to enter. The rest of you will have to remain out here until they have finished the briefing.”


With that said, he opened the door. He held it open as the nobles walked in. General Goldelle paid little attention to them as they entered, she simply continued to scan the map table. Occasionally she’d move a piece or two. Once everyone had found their seats, she turned to face the nobles from the head of the table. Her eyes washed over each of them, counting about ten nobles in total. Not many had decided to show up. That was disappointing. Suddenly the silence was broken by General Goldelle’s booming voice.


“I assume you’ve all heard that King Grivois is dead. The signing of the peace treaty last week was interrupted by an army of monsters. Now we cannot truly confirm that King Grivois is dead, but we know that finding out will prove impossible unless we take action.” General Goldelle paused for a moment, her hand tightening into a fist.


“We are preparing for war. The only way for us to defeat the Army of Darkness, as the monster infestation has been named, is to use the power of the crystals. We already know the land to the east has no intention of surrendering their crystal to us, so we will take it by force. But before we do anything, our kingdom will need a ruler. I’m certain you have heard of Nolan Grivois, yes?” Helene pointed at three nobles. Lockheed, Lanthane, and Mason.


“You three will be accompanied by a small troop of soldiers in a caravan headed north. Informants have confirmed Prince Grivois and his band of ruffians will be targeting this caravan. They think the caravan is full of weapons, but instead, you will all be concealed and ambush them. It is not necessary that you capture the prince. Kill him if you must. He will return to the crystal regardless. The caravan is waiting by the city entrance. Get moving.”


——————————


Tiger Fang Garden
6:00 AM

In a circle of crystal clear water, atop a smooth gray rock sat a young boy with white hair. He wore a simple light grey kimono. His legs were crossed, and his hands rested gently on his hands. His breathing was slow, quiet, and controlled. His meditation was interrupted by the crunching of plants beneath boots.


“Lord Akai, we’ve brought the individuals you’ve requested,” a gruff voice spoke from the edge of the pond. The samurai motioned to the group of nobles behind him, his heavy armor clanking a little as his arm rose.


The boy stood up and turned to face them. He had a serious look about him, as if he had been thinking very deeply about something.


“You already received my letter, have you all not? If so you should already know what I’m about to say to you all.” The boy cleared his throat before beginning.


“Ny name is Otomo Akai. You may have been expecting my mother, but she hasn’t been seen since the Army of Darkness appeared in the Kingdom of Ventin. I now rule the Tiger clan by right, but many in our lands don’t think I am fit to lead. They couldn’t be more wrong.


The Kingdom of Rivienne is no doubt preparing for war against us. Our ‘eyes’ on the border have observed men gathering as we speak. However we only know of two places they can reliably attack from. The Battleground, which lies dangerously close to the fallen Kingdom of Ventin, and the sea. Our bets so far are on the sea. To ensure we are victorious in that battle I plan to enlist the help of a special friend you all know as the Queen of Pirates. Some of my associates from the Rat Clan have contacted her to ask for a meeting. She has agreed, so you will all accompany me there to ask for her help. If I can secure her assistance, then we will be guaranteed victory. Once the Land of Feurey sees that I can defeat the Kingdom of Rivienne, I have no doubt that they’ll accept me as leader of the Tiger Clan too!” Otomo clenched his fists, his eyes full of vigor. But suddenly, he was ambushed.


“Otomoooooo! Is this where you were hiding?”


A masked woman had ambushed otomo, tackling him into the pond water. She held the poor boy to her plump chest, cuddling him tightly.


“Get off of me you dumb whore! I’m meeting with our new allies!” Otomo yelled, kicking the woman in the gut. This sent her sprawling on her back in the pond.


“Why didn’t you invite me though?” The woman asked, her voice low and smooth. It was almost... seductive. She wore leather armor, with a simple cloth coat over it all. On her head was a worn amigasa hat, while on her face was a mask depicting a sad face.


“Just shut up for right now Ina,” Otomo grumbled, turning back to the nobles. “Just meet me at the port town Hikani’s dock. Tomorrow at noon is when we make a deal with the Queen of Pirates… What’re you staring at? Hurry up and get going!”
 
Last edited:
Mason's welcome into the life of nobility was, at the same time, much more and vastly less than he had hoped. The speed of finding someone that believed, and would bear witness to, his claims of his tale was staggering, it only took a full two days before he had been placed in a temporary room in the castle. He was given this room on the terms that he would attend some urgent meeting of other nobles that had been very recently decided upon. Mason noticed an unusual amount of hustle about him, he had always assumed that the noble life was an easy one, filled with relaxing and simply lazing the day away, but it would seem he was wrong and he was pleasantly surprised. There was one other odd thing, everyone was in an absolutely dour mood, many of them speaking in hushed whispers if they spoke at all, something had definitely happened, Mason was sure of that, but he could not find out what. His failure at learning of the recent events was not due to his lack of trying mind you, he frequently tried to stop a passing guard or scribe, only to be blown past without a second thought, each one hurriedly approaching whatever task they might be needing to perform, Mason didn't mind though, he respected the work ethic, thinking some of the younger mages in training back a the church could use the same kind of ethic when approaching their studies.

Strangely enough Mason, even surrounded by more family than he even knew he had, was more alone here than he had ever been before. He found himself looking out of his temporary room's window and out into the city, thoughts wandering to the memories of his days cleaning the floors with the others or healing some of the more unlucky souls. The jolly laugh of the rotund Father Bartholomew echoed through his mind, bringing a slight upturn to his own mouth, he would miss that man, he was practically Mason's father after all. Actually, come to think of it, he was a lot of peoples father, and that was passed the title, he took care of many, even many who did not deserve it, he even taught Mason and the others in his tutelage to do the same.

"You have the power to help Mason," Father Bartholomew had told him when he was still very young, "will you be one of the vain one's who turn up a nose to those in need?" When he had been first asked this question, Mason was barely able to seal the smallest cuts without exhausting his mana supply. He was so inefficient that on his very first, successful, cast over a year later he had lifted his arms in elation, then promptly passed out. Minutes later he was awoken by none other than Bartholomew himself shaking him and lifting him into a tight hug, exclaiming, "You did it Mason! Your first casting!" It wouldn't be for several more years that he would learn he had blacked out, hit his own head on the floor hard enough to cause a nasty gash, which then had been healed by the jovial man himself. Instead of calling out his failure, the man had honed in on Mason's success, hammering in the good that he had done for another, steeling Mason's resolve to better control his mana. This was ten, maybe even closer to fifteen long years ago, and his hard work had paid off. Mason now had enough control to cast several minor healing spells without much trouble, though he still had not been able to reach the heights of more complex casting, he felt as though he was on the verge of breaking the mental barrier down and fully comprehending the capacity needed to address injuries that were much more dire. When he thought of his own limitations, Mason was always brought back to the same sad event that plagued him, one particular event that he could not free himself from.

It was quite a normal day, Mason might have even said it was a rather nice day before everything had transpired, the young man was performing his rounds in an area of the slums that was known for its violence. Mason was no longer accosted specifically in this area, the local ruffians knowing that he worked for the church and did not often carry coin on him, but he was aware that many were. Suddenly his ears were assaulted with a cry of pain from a nearby alley, Mason did not hesitate in his response, running directly towards the sound. The scene which greeted him was grim to say the least, a motionless body, surrounded in a quickly growing pool of blood, lie face down. Upon reaching the body, Mason could now see that this was a man who had been stabbed in the lower back, and a worried look grew upon his face as the White Mage took note of how deep the wound was, somehow knowing that the blade had severed the injured's spine. The sheer magnitude of the damage terrified him as he inspected the wound closer, simultaneously noting the particularly shallow breaths coming from the body, he was kneeling in the blood now and he would have to act quickly if he desired a chance at saving this man. "I'm Mason, I'm with the church," He said, not even sure if the victim was conscious, "I need you to remain calm, I'm going to help." Though inside he was quaking like a leaf in a hurricane, his voice did its best to hide that fact, as he began to focus his mana into his right hand, specifically his fingertips. "This is going to hurt," Mason warned, "but I have to start from the inside to be certain there will be no continued bleeding, as gently as he could pushing his fingers into the open wound.

It was worse than he had imagined, his two fingers submerged knuckle deep into the visceral gash, a grunt of pain from the man caused Mason a moment of reprieve, cementing that the fellow was still alive. His fears were confirmed not a moment later however, when he felt the clean sever of bone that had once been a connected spine. There was no time to ponder whether he could or could not fix it, he must do what he could now. Mason let out a stream of magic from each of his fingers, one a simple spell to numb the area and the other to actually re-knit the muscle and other tissue that had been damaged. Having healed shallower lacerations before, Mason knew to slowly pull his hand back as he worked as to stop him from becoming entwined in the healing, effectively healing the wound around his fingers. The work, though seeming to take an eternity, was slow and methodical. His breath was steady, and remained such through the whole process as sweat began to bead on his forehead. Upon reaching the area of bone, Mason was relieved to feel the hard substance begin to grow, the magic rebuilding the spine itself. Gasping for breath as he finished, Mason collapsed against the wall, covered in blood and exhausted. The man stirred, using his arms to prop himself up, tears streaming from his face. The next words from this mans mouth have carried with him to this day, Mason still blames himself and will often have nightmares about this very moment. The man's eyes went wide as he said, "I can't feel my legs."

"Are you Mason?" A serious voice grumbled as he cut off Mason from his daydream. After a brief shake from his thoughts the young man simply nodded and was motioned to follow. During the short trek, Mason was informed that the meeting had been pushed up to today, and was being prepared at this very moment. He was led through a maze of corridors, until stopping before an ornate door, with several others waiting about. One of note was a rather sharply dressed man with brown locks spilling about his face. He seemed exceptionally charismatic, not at all afraid to mingle with those about him whilst a rugged man, though a few inches shorter than himself, stood imposingly nearby. It was an alarming antithesis, one seemed to be the embodiment of the enjoyment, and the other was as serious as could be, Mason wondered if the latter was a personal guard to the former, he would make a note of these two and be sure to ask of them later. There were several other intimidating faces here, none of them seeming to have any interest in Mason, so he refrained from making eye contact with them. "Wait here." the guard said, as he approached the door, popping his head inside for a moment, leaving Mason alone and out of place.

The meeting, as the guard had almost instantly returned, was for nobles only, to which Mason was overjoyed, these people were his family. He breathed a sigh of relief as he saw the other man, the outgoing looking one, part from his somber partner and stride towards the room himself. Even the fellows gait spoke of his confidence, his stride accompanied by the clacking of his expensive looking shoes on the polished stone floors and billowing of a cape, probably costing more than all of Mason's attire combined, adding a dazzling flourish to an already impressive ensemble of clothing. Mason was in awe as he followed inside, pausing to wait for all of the others to get inside. He had hoped he would be able to sit next to the sharply dressed man, but he had no such luck, he took the last open seat as he noticed the eyes of a very intimidating woman on him for a moment. She was the one who would be holding the meeting, as the guard at the door informed the group, General Goldelle. Mason had heard that name before, and quite often, as Father Bartholomew spoke exceedingly highly of her, the stories did not do her justice. The aura of absolute authority pressed on him with an intensity he had never known, the piercing green eyes that stared upon him cut to his core, it was as if she were reading everything about him, every did that he had done, every failure that he had ever experienced, she knew it all and it only took her an instant.

The meeting took only a few moments, the General acknowledging the recent death of the king, and the involvement of the nobles in the efforts to fight The Army of Darkness, a hoard of monsters that had even had the gumption to attack the peace treaty. Mason's mind raced, they didn't expect him to fight on the front lines did they? He, a novice at best, white mage was better suited to a camp, tending the wounded, but his worst fears were realized when she called upon him, by name, to leave on the very mission she had just described. The only beneficial information he had gleaned was the name of the charismatic man, Lanthane, and one other, Lockheed, who would also be members of the team send to capture, or kill, the Prince of Rivienne, Nolan Grivois. Unfortunately Mason would not even have the time to digest this information, as they were to set out immediately. Mason wanted to learn who he was and what it was to be a noble, it seems that he would be thrown into the deep end and be forced to prove himself quicker than he realized, and he was terrified with having to do so.
 
[class name=Header] max-width: 500px; height: 100px; margin: auto; display: flex; flex-direction: column; text-align: center; [/class] [class name=Container] max-width: 500px; height: 300px; overflow: hidden; margin: auto; text-align: center; [/class] [class name=Textbox] width: calc(100% - 24px); height: 90%; padding: 24px; overflow-y: scroll; display: flex; flex-direction: column; [/class] [class name=Heading] display: inline; font-size: 30 pt; [/class] [class name=Text] display: inline; font-size: 10pt; [/class]

[div class=Header]
[div class=Heading]Rin & Hiroaki Uryu[/div]​
[div class=Heading]
594462[/div]
[/div][div class=Container][div class=Textbox][div class=Text]
s62mf4.jpg
The heavens once stained like an abyss, starless and dismal, began to sprout with vitality. Spring breathed life into the air once more, and the soils of Lunacresta responded with deep exhales of virescent bushes and budding flowers that painted the landscape into pastel strokes. The quelled forests of The Land of Feurey swelled with an array of sonances, an indication that hibernating woodland animals were emerging from their long slumber. Of course, not all the lands of Lunacresta would revel in the warming temperature. The Kingdom of Ventin, tormented with an eternal winter, shifted to a more penetratingly frigid atmosphere after the Catastrophe in the North - and this was not due to the climate.

Less than a month prior, Rin Warui narrowly escaped her imminent fate; certain death by the hands of her father, Fubu Warui. Having adopted the last name of her closest friend, Hiroaki, the Red Mage now favors Rin Uryū. The two were on the run from Rin's father when the Catastrophe in the North befell the Kingdom of Ventin. Now the nations, plagued with profound sorrow and loss, faced a new danger - a danger that was no longer lurking within the mountains of Ventin but slowly slithering to the borders.

When an anonymous messenger delivered an orderly, hand-written note to the unlikely siblings, the two became convinced fate succeeded in outrunning them. Rin's irises, billows of passionate damask rose and puddles of bloodied rubies, studied the disclosures calligraphed on the parchment paper more than she would admit aloud. Within the printed words loomed an ominous warning of war and an invitation to the Tiger Fang Garden. Uncharacteristic silence impregnated the air. Rin engulfed her sugar-plummed bottom lip between white teeth, rolling it back and forth as she stared at the paper for the umpteenth time. Then, her palms balled into a fist, fingertips creasing the side of the letter as she waved it frantically in the air towards Hiroaki.

"They know who I am," The words came out like spitfire. "We'll be captured and trialed for treason and abandonment and -"

Hiroaki cut her off before she could continue.

"You cannot be certain they know who you are, Rin. The Rat Clan is secretive and, unless they are apart of it, we can claim the Uryū's to be of noble descent."

In response, a puff of air escaped Rin's nostrils - partly due to the frustration of knowing there was truth behind Hiro's words and partly due to the rush of blood surging through Rin's veins, raising her blood pressure. The two collectively decided it was best to convene at the Tiger Fang Garden. The guilt of abandoning her clan persisted within Rin, manifesting in physical ailments. Her intestines continuously felt like they were weaving and lurching into themselves, formulating a knot inside her abdomen. Maybe, just maybe, the guilt would fade if she granted the Land of Feurey her strength and spellcasting in the upcoming war.

Subdued and dusty fingers of moonlight jabbed through the canopy of trees above Rin's sleeping form. A fire once lit a-blaze in glory left only reminiscent cinders as dawn approached. Hiroaki had been awake for some time now, anticipating the awakening of his companion. His back was flush against the inflexible bark of a tree, arms crossed, with a protective gaze. He tried to allow Rin to wake on her own, but if he waited any longer, they would arrive late. Sighing deeply and using the tree as leverage, Hiroaki rose to his feet. With a stoic expression, Hiro placed his right foot on Rin's shoulder and lightly jolted her body.

"Rin you need to wake up now, or we will be late for the meeting."

Hiroaki received a low grumble and a swat to his ankle from Rin's half-awake state. He noted a stream of drool dribbling down her chin.

"Just five more minutes," She demanded groggily.

The Red Mage shifted her body back to her previous sleeping position and resumed snoring. Hiroaki observed as Rin's chest ascended and descended in a steady rhythm, evidence of her easiness to lull herself back asleep. Removing his foot, Hiroaki shrugged nonchalantly and began walking off.

"I suppose that means no breakfast then."

Immediately, Rin rotated her body to face Hiro. Her plum hair cascaded down her body in disarray, strands sticking out in random directions. "Wait, did you say breakfast?"

Like all mornings, the sun emerged triumphant against the moon in a timeless struggle to claim the skies. Sheets of sweltering tangerines, glowing reds, and glittering hues of golds cloak the earth in a breathtaking allurement. If Rin had been a morning person, she surely would have enjoyed the sight. Her and Hiroaki trekked side-by-side up a more strenuous hill, her spear perched nonchalantly on her right shoulder. Despite her disheveled appearance earlier, Rin cleaned up becomingly. Her tresses were smoothed out, swaying loosely behind her with each step. She chose to don more form-fitting clothes; this type of attire made it easier to maneuver in and battle. Unlike Rin, Hiroaki's features regularly appeared freshly kept, even during the early morning hours.

With calculated steps and heavy breathing, Rin struggled to the top of the mound. "Damn, why am I so out of shape?" She rasped.

"You have been eating many rice balls," Hiro responded.

"What did you just say to me?" Rin barked back.

"I said you have been eating many rice balls."

"Yeah, we are poor, Hiro. That's all we can afford."

"Yes," He said, nodding in agreement. "But you do not have to eat seven in a row in one sitting."

Rin merely presented Hiro with a sideways glance, a tint of crimson that rivaled her eyes blossoming on her heightened cheekbones and the shell of her ears. "You're lucky that I like you."

A crooked grin tugged at Hiro's lips, the two finally arriving at the Tiger Fang Garden. The Samurai was on high alert, halting to examine the area and situation laid before them. Rin, on the other hand, continued forward without a second thought, whistling in contentment. Reluctantly, Hiroaki appeared behind her once more, grumbling to himself. A group of nobles had arrived before the Uryū's, and Hiroaki seized the opportunity to glimpse them over. Two, in particular, stood out to him; a young girl and a man in a mask that shuffled amongst the nobles.

Then, a Samurai ushered them before a younger, pale-haired boy. The boy stood and began a spiel to the nobles. Rin leaned in close to Hiroaki, placing her hand in front of her mouth. "Who's the pipsqueak?" The woman was sure to keep her voice low, allowing only Hiro to catch wind of her question. When Hiro remained silent, Rin dropped her hand back to her side and scoffed. Luckily, the boy answered for her.

He was Otomo Akai, next in line to lead the Tiger Clan. A distant ache pulled at Rin's heart, a barrel of emotions growing within her for Otomo at the supposed loss of his mother. This sentiment quickly dissipated, becoming drowned in confusion as a strange woman launched herself towards Otomo. Had the water been more profound, the ghostly-haired boy would have been drowning - literally - as well. Rin instinctively stretched her arm across Hiro's chest, knowing he would attempt to aid the boy. Angled eyebrows curved upward in astonishment and genuine amusement at the scene. The woman, whom the two would soon learn to be Ina, seemed harmless, albeit tenacious.

Once dismissed, the two turned on their heels and glanced at one another. "So, Hikani's dock?" Rin mused.

"Mhm," Hiro answered, leading the pair away from the pond.

fbdm5h.png
"Guess it's time to stock up on some rice balls and begin this journey to save the Land of Feurey!"
With absolute resolute, Rin's closed fist pounded down on her palm, her chin raising ever-so-slightly in confidence. Hiro could not help but sigh internally and crossed his arms along his chest. A blanket of loosened brush cushioned their footsteps, hushing any sound their feet would make. Within the branches above, nestled securely away from the world below, winged orchestras of birdsong sung out like trumpets, welcoming Rin and Hiroaki to their journey. Despite the songs, Hiroaki could not help but wonder if this was the best route to head down. His tall frame towered over Rin's like a protective tree, forcing him to gaze down towards her in contemplation. The Samurai knew that once his childhood friend made up her mind, there was no convincing her otherwise. Because of this, Hiro settled on the idea of more rice balls and the perilous voyage ahead.

[/div][/div][/div]
 
Lanthane Portrait.png Lanthane Aramis Grivois
Mentions: Mason ( HeyItsBanana HeyItsBanana ), Locke ( The Black Knight The Black Knight ), Goldelle ( InsaneAsylum InsaneAsylum )


Prince Lanthane jolted awake at a series of sharp knocks at his door. He raised a hand to his temples, pressing the palm of his hand against his forehead to gather himself. His spine was regretting his impromptu nap at his workbench, littered with pages, ingredients, both empty glass vials and bottles and ones full of indiscernible liquids. His shoulders were as stiff as planks, and no amount of rolling would ease them for some time. He grumbled a sleepy, incoherent sound, before he raised his eyes to a nearby window, expecting the light to have been pouring through the glass in all its glory. Instead, he was met with a blanket of darkness. Perhaps the odd sprinkle of stars, but mostly darkness. Some of the city would have been tucked away, dreaming. Some of the city would have been rising from their nests to begin their day.

And meanwhile, this part of the city, in the castle, were determined to bust down the door with the furious knocks.

“Okay, oka-yes-I’m awake, I’m awake!” The young man managed to string some words together in a sleepy stupor, before he rose from the desk, rubbing at one eye. “What is it? Who is it?” He began questioning the mysterious figure behind the door.

“P-Prince Lanthane, my apologies,” the voice began shakily, hesitantly, as if Lanthane would consider lopping a servant’s head off for disturbing him at such an hour. In a groggy state, perhaps, but he wasn’t the kind of man to be unreasonable. The servant continued, “General Goldelle has requested your presence alongside other nobles in the war room.. It is a matter of great importance.”

Lanthane let the words hang in the air for several moments, pondering them. He scoffed to himself. Requested my presence…more like she summoned me. His eyes wandered to the window once more, a familiar building with a spire aspiring to touch the heavens coming into view. As of late, he had grown sick of such a view; to a larger extent than he had ever had in his childhood. He had grown sick of seeing the Church, the clergymen, of hearing their preaching, of watching them root themselves firmly within the city. His nose wrinkled. Father would never have allowed this… Lanthane had insisted to himself. Though, perhaps he didn’t see it; the growth of the Church of Dieux’s influence. Otherwise, the Church would have been smudged under his heel long before now.

“M-my Prince?”

The servant’s pitchy voice reached his thoughts once more. Lanthane stammered, “I-I’m still here.” Of course, he was still there. It wasn’t as if Lanthane had launched himself out the window in that time of silence. He regained his composure once again, before he gave an order. “Send for Ser Gerran. He will accompany me to the war room."

Lanthane breathed a sigh once the servant gave an affirmative response, and his footsteps eventually faded into the silence of the night. Walking to a nearby mirror, he adjusted his clothing, so it didn’t look as if he had fallen victim to sleep at a workbench littered with potions, concoctions, and the Eternals knew what else. Or…the Elementals. Or whatever blasted gods people worshipped these days.

The young man stared at the one in the mirror, still tense.

Though, that tension no longer hailed from a rude awakening.


Gerran, trustworthy and loyal as he ever was, had come to Lanthane’s room within ten minutes, at the very least. From there, he escorted the young man on his way to the war room. At least, it seemed that way to the very few eyes up at such an early time.

Instead, Lanthane relayed his thoughts to Gerran as the confidant he knew he always would be.

“So, you think this is over your father’s death?" The knight asked, his eyes wandering from one side to the other, to straight ahead, watching for those with an ear stuck too out of place in their direction.

“Of course, it is,” Lanthane affirmed, glancing to the taller man. “Though, I doubt the choice of location is reserved only to conversation of a funeral.” He had given it much thought. Perhaps it was to discuss the leadership of the country. The threat in the North. The threat of Feurey…surely after hearing of such a tragedy, they would lay down their weapons and call for peace also.

As much as the Church piously preached peace, he couldn’t imagine them doing the same.

"Succession then. Or the Army of Darkness."

"My thoughts exactly. Perhaps all three,"
Lanthane murmured, before a yawn overtook the latter part of his sentence.

Their conversation became more muted, sparser as they approached the war room. Too many ears. Too many eyes. A group’s worth at least. It seemed as if other nobles had been summoned also, dotted among sellswords, fighters, church kin. Lanthane smiled, as he had been taught and often used to his advantage, exchanged words with a few of the nobles, despite such an early start.

It wasn’t long before a young man drowning in stock leather armour had given instructions, further insisting that only a select few could enter the room. Gerran, of course, was one of the excluded.

The Knight’s eyes landed on Lanthane. He had been shuffling uneasily so soon after the announcement. Though, the young man simply turned to Gerran and smirked; that cheeky, cocky smirk he had worn multiple times over the course of his short lifetime.

“No need to worry, Gerran,” he reassured him, adjusting the cape on his shoulders. “You can wait here or just meet me at our agreed spot afterwards.” His eyes were fixed firmly on Gerran, communicating something else. Near the location of the Crystal, should anything happen. He doubted that would be the case. But precautions were always handy to have in place. Lanthane eventually turned away from Gerran, leaving him stuck behind the doors of the war room as he strode into the war room, with the rest of those called forward.

He was the least hesitant looking man in the room, having pulled out his chair with one hand before parking his behind on it. His eyes wandered around the faces of the select people joining them in this room. A man, not much older than him, was one of the few who joined others sitting at the table, though was much more hesitant and overwhelmed by the atmosphere. His attire differed from other nobles' clothing and his own, not that it had bothered him; though, it certainly set him apart. His clothing was darker, more practical, though, the green, swirling patterned coat he had slung over the top was the only bright and extravagant thing about him.

Lanthane's gaze eventually rested upon the General's, who had started her spiel about why they were all gathered here. His mind had wandered a few times, appreciating the woman's golden locks, sharp green eyes, not to mention how well that armour fit her. A shame she was so devoted to the church, and had a good gauntlet to launch towards his face if he even thought of commenting on any of the woman's appearance.

Though, Lanthane seemed to take the situation when he heard a certain name mentioned. Nolan Grivois. A name he hadn't heard uttered for years. A name his mother had briefly mentioned to him as a child. A name his father refused to acknowledge. So, why the sudden interest in a prince who hasn't been mentioned or seen in years? Lanthane asked himself, his eyebrows lowering in his pondering. He supposed he was the rightful heir, the one to take their father's place. But as far as Lanthane was concerned, he had left that behind once he had fled Rivienne. Not that he would fight him over a title and a seat, as empty as the water supplies in the slums. He'd be nothing more than a figurehead with the Church behind him.

Lanthane had stayed his tongue as Goldelle continued, pointing to three nobles. Yours truly, the man in the swirled coat, and a...sellsword? A noble? He wasn't quite sure.

He was surprised at himself for not noticing the rugged man's appearance, the serious gaze he wore upon his face. Goldelle had amassed a strange group of people. Ironically, he was lumped in with this same group.

He hadn't time to ponder it, as the three of them were given orders to bring back Nolan themselves. Dead or alive. He had to hold back a scoff. Was this what the nobles were reduced to? To do the Church's dirty work for them? Regardless of whether the advantage of them being revived by their Crystal was considered, it revealed how much power they held now with the King out of the way.

...or at least, one King. The next one they could hold in the palm of their hand.

Goldelle had finished the briefing swiftly, expecting the three she had pointed at to immediately trot off to carry off orders. Unfortunately, Lanthane was the man to make things difficult, to make his voice heard. He would be an irritating little pawn with the gumption to ask questions and make suggestions.

And it was exactly what he did when he rose to his feet, his fingers close to drumming along the table; though, remembered that warning he was given. Perhaps Lanthane would be meeting Gerran near the location of the Crystal if he so much as grazed the table's surface. But his role was to irritate, to question, to suggest. Not to do something foolish and waste the Crystal's power on reviving him.

"Forgive me, General Goldelle, but are we completely past the method of communication at this point?" Lanthane began. His question was simple, but his tone was brimming with self-confidence. The volume of his voice could never quite reach that of the General's, but he had learned enough from trained orators to control the manner of his voice and grab attention. "I, along with several others here would be willing to bring Nolan back under any circumstances, but to continue a war whilst a bigger threat comes to both Rivienne and Feurey's doorsteps? I don't see the Army of Darkness fighting for one land or the other." Communicating with an undead army was hardly an option. Communicating with a very alive army, the enemy's army, more specifically, was still very much on the tables in his eyes.
 
Last edited:
Sheridan Sasaki
It was a peaceful morning within the hermitage. The trees bristled from the gentle wind, the birds chirped and darted their heads around. Puppets, big and small, went in and out of Sheridan's room as she carved out her next puppet. Some were creating other puppets, some were bringing in breakfast, and some were just walking around in circles. Regardless, Sheridan was concentrated in the task in front of her. Staring at the birds that hanged on the branches of the tree, she carved her puppet into its likely image. She had made several puppets that were supposed to mimic the bird's ability to fly. Though it was an arduous task. No matter how many times she had adjusted the puppet, the puppets were unable to fly.

Setting down the partially carved chunk of wood, she reached out to grab the cup of tea that was sitting right next beside her. It was only a matter of time that she would be able to replicate the bird's ability of flight with her puppets. Though the little project could of been done faster if she just dissected the little avian, but she had the heart to not butcher any birds. Admiring the birds one last time, she got up from her cushioned seat and exited out of her room. She brushed her hand against the wall as she started to walk around the house. The hermitage her mentor had made was small, yet big at the same time. There where many rooms and a staircase that lead down to the basement. It was more so that the hermitage went down instead of up. Her mentor was strange in that kind of ways.

"Looks like he's not here..." Sheridan murmured as she made a full lap around the house. Her mentor was most likely in his basement, experimenting in order to find new spells. It still boggles her on what her mentor was doing in his basement. Looking over to the puppets, she looked at them. "Stop." The puppets instantaneously froze in place when Sheridan gave them the command. Turning around to go back into the room, she felt a small nudged and looked down. A small block shaped puppet was pulling on her leg. "Back." With another the command the puppet unlatched itself from Sheridan's leg and ran back towards the entrance of the hermitage. Sheridan followed it as it made its way back.

The small puppet hopped up a few steps and climbed up the wooden pillar. It threw itself onto the string that the bell was hung with and made it ring a few times. Went towards the door and made her way to open it. They rarely got visitors due to being out in the middle of the forest. Though there were few she did see when she at times went out on rare occasions. Her mentor's beast often gobbled them up before going back on its usual patrol. "Sasaki Residence do you need anything?" Sheridan addressed the messenger with a monotone voice. Maybe her mentor had wanted something delivered to him, he had done that several times. Though it would be troublesome if he ordered the usual.

The messenger gave her an odd look before stuffing his hand into his bag. "This is for Sasaki Sheridan." The messenger said as he took out the letter. "I presume she lives here?" Sheridan nodded as the messenger looked at her. "Yes, she does live here. I'll give her the letter myself." Sheridan said as she took the letter from him and closed the door. She didn't bother to tell her that she was in fact Sheridan Sasaki. There were multiple cases in which they refused to give her deliveries due to not believing that she was Sheridan Sasaki. It was weird, she only wanted a part of a still living treant delivered to the hermitage. Walking inside, she headed to the kitchen. It was the closest room to the living room, and she wanted to read the letter.

Grasping the contents of the letter she read it. Her gaze read through the contents and her eyes laid upon the Tiger Emblem. How odd, why did the clans need a nobody like her? The only notable thing she had done were creating mediocre puppets. Sheridan hummed until she finally realized something. Was it because of her blood? The was the only notable detail about her. While she was conceived through a rather crude way in the eyes of the clans, she was still a noble by blood. Sheridan pit her lip, her mother must be laughing, wherever she was, at her suffering. Sheridan loved having a peaceful life where the days passed by without her noticing. This would obviously throw it out of the window. "Actually..." This could actually prove to be worth it. Maybe she could learn more and improve her puppets. There were also the memories she would make along the way.

Now motivated to leave the hermitage, she went off into her room. "Stop." All of the puppets within her room stopped whatever they were doing. It would only spell certain disaster if she left them unattended. Walking over to the table, she grabbed the unfinished bird puppet and looked over towards the corner of the room. "Up boy, we're going somewhere," In an instant the dog puppet started to wag its tail and walked over towards her. It's sat on its rear as it looked up to Sheridan. Sheridan didn't bother to pet the puppet as she went over towards her closet. Grabbing a brown cloak, she wore it over her clothes. At the very least, she would be taken seriously if she covered up her appearance. Exiting out the hermitage, with dog in tow, they left the forest to attend this meeting.




The way to the Tiger Fang Garden was very taxing. From the forest towards the Tiger Fang Garden was short, but long at the same time. It took her a few hours, plus breaks, to get to her desired destination. The place was crowded and she didn't appreciated the pushing and shoving. She had hold to Bao-Wow since it was too crowded for them to walk seperately. It was a very difficult thing to do since the dog kept on trying to use it's legs to walk. Though she found it odd that everyone was looking at her oddly as she passed them. At the end of the day it didn't matter as by the time she arrived at her destination, she found herself facing against her final obstacle.

The guards.

"I think you're at the wrong place kid." One of the guards said as he looked down at the 'child.' She had to remove her hood after the requested her to do so. With a sigh, she placed down her dog and rummaged through her pockets. The dog sat on its rear and looked at Sheridan while she searched for her entry pass. "Here, this is the letter that requested my presence." Sheridan said as she handed over the letter. The guards casually took it and then just stared at the letter. They looked at her then back at the letter. "Are you sure you're Sasaki Sheridan?" And they failed to connect the dots. While she wouldn't be frustrated at this, the trip to here was very frustrating. With a sigh she gave them a look, "Yes, I am Sasaki Sheridan. Is there something wrong?"

The guards looked at each and looked back at Sheridan. "I..." Sheridan stared deeply into him. The letter was genuine and did have the emblem of the Tiger Clan. "Yes, you're allowed in." The guards said with a defeated sigh. "I'll lead you to Lord Akai." With a smile she pulled her hood over and followed the guard as he guided her towards her destination. She hoped that this little adventure would prove fruitful for her research.

Looking at the decorative walls her thoughts wondered off. Would she have a chance to meet her father? While she didn't know what he looked like, he knew what she looked like. She was practically a spinning image of her mother except extremely younger. What would he be like and why did he love mother? At the end of the day, those questions were trivial. It wasn't necessary for her to know what her father was like, or even why he loved her mother. It was none of her concern anyway. All she wanted to do was to focus on her projects in order to be satisfied with her life. With her cursed body, she had plenty of time to achieve it.

She blinked and turned to the voice that was addressing her, and various others that she had noticed. Now looking at the origin of the voice, she made a few observation. The young teen was cute, so to say, kinda like a rabbit. She had to agree with everyone who was in opposition to him and he did look too young, and cute, to lead the clans. Of course, she couldn't exactly judge him for that based on her current form. At least he could grow, unlike her, into a tiger. Sheridan then ignored whatever Lord Akai was saying by imagining what he would look like in the future. Maybe, he would turn out to be a fierce tiger that would guide the clans. Or maybe a delicate crane. Then the thought of him being a seven foot tall bull came into mind. She stopped imagining at that point.

It seemed like he had finished his speech when all of a sudden, he was hugged by a woman. Sheridan found it both cute and enviable. The kid was struggling and insulting the women who just continued to be more affectionate, so it was cute. Enviable... She didn't need to expand on that thought. That was until the kid managed to kick the woman into the pond. Sheridan stopped caring at that point. At the end, she was dismissed to do whatever she until noon.

What would she do until then? Stacking up on a few rations would be a good idea, but there was a problem. She did not know how to get around this place. It was a miracle for her to even get to the Tiger Fang Garden in the first place, she doubted that it would happen twice again. She would have to figure out herself. Walking down the halls, she decided to try and find the market, wherever that was, in order to buy some food.
 
InariThe chirping of birds and shuffling of the forest had died down considerably as a film of shadow overtook the world, the highest reaches of this film appeared to be dotted with shimmering pores. As the world was lulled into sleep a new world had begun to awaken, a song of the forest began to gently shush the gentle breeze that flowed through it. The chirping of avian inhabitants had now been replaced by that of soft instruments, the gentle kiss of a cricket's leg to it's partner rang out in the night life and sang to his mate. The response took a short time as the hidden world became vibrant once again, leaving their perch a flurry of flashes lit up the treeline before fading out once again. These brief illumination gave vision to other denizens who made their way around these lands, the near silent movements of nocturnal predator and prey entangled themselves among the symphony of darkness. Among the sounds a struggle made itself known the thrashing of a rodent that hadn't made it's way back to the burrow sounded out against the fallen foliage that littered the land beneath it, coiling around it was that of a serpent and as it's form began to crush the air from the rodent the struggling started to weaken as well. This sheet of darkness decided that those who possess predatory instincts will claim the lives of their prey, this was the rule of nature and as such the truth life follows.

But in the world there's always a bigger predator, from shadows the serpent was seized by a larger opponent and just behind the neck something locked down upon it. In a panic the reptilian loosened it's grip upon the rodent and opened it's jaws to try and contest the others hold, this provided time for the rabbit to escape and shifted the name of "Prey" to the serpent. A sharp item drove down quickly and severed the head from the lengthy body, the removed skull attempted to look around for it's attacker to deliver a bite of vengeance. It was met by a much larger form holding it's body a short distance away, the jaws opened to try and reach but it had no hopes of grasping the human. With that it's jaws shut once again and it fell silent while the human walked away from the peering eyes that began to plunge into darkness. Inari had found himself something to eat, as such he returned to the area he had set up as a temporary encampment. To his side a babbling brook continued on towards the remainder of the stream a few yards away, a sense of serenity filled the area as a calming breeze moved by. Setting the lengthy form of the serpent down the man began to strike a few things together, small sparks flashed before fading once more until a dull orange began to flicker from a small clump of dried vegetation. After some time, and steady amount of patience, a fire had begun to crackle and illuminate the darkness surrounding the encampment. Against the flames the male who sat before it had begun to handle the body of the serpent, first the skinning occurred and was then followed by gutting the creature.

The man in question was a wanderer of sorts, his form was neither dominating nor diminutive and the composure he held was cloaked by a mask. A mask of red and white hid most of the face, the mouth covered by a shadowed veil and left little to be known. The flames had illuminated the man enough to present his attire, a tight-fitting outfit of predominately black accompanied by slightly reddened splotches made up most of his clothing save for the looser fitting white coat that favors the appearance of a haroi. In this dead of night the white overcoat had been placed off to the side where it was neatly folded, potentially from being recently washed, as the man hoisted the serpents body over to the brook he made work in cleaning up the body before moving to the still hearty flame. A few sticks had been anchored into the earth and upon these he moved segments of the body into, each severed to make cooking easier, and there they would sit for awhile or at least until they were cooked enough. With that the crackling of flames and song of the wilderness continued it's chirping, on the large rock that sat near the flames Inari perched himself and stared into the flames, his ears remained prepared for anything approaching but his eyes remained glued to the fire though the mask hid that from common knowledge.

The fire continued to burn it's fuel and in a moments notice one of the logs allowed orange shimmers to overtake it's black charred form and under the heat it crumbled, it's figure shifted and the flames spat out a wave of embers. Inari didn't shift at this, instead he continued staring into the central location of the heat as memories began to return. A building surrounded by plains and cobbled paths engulfed in a relentless heat, the cracking of support beams from within sounded into the air as a plume of smoke rose to the skyline. From outside the windows were impossible to see through, flames had already began their ascent up the panes and tore vision from the world away as muffled screams could be heard each of them waiting and begging for an escap- Another sound pulled him from these memories. Snapping to the side Inari's head found it's focus on an approaching being, they seemed to be on horseback from the looks of it. The heavy steps from the hooves of the beast drew his attention more than anything, that and the haggard breathing that the being seemed to have which likely meant they came straight here from a lengthy distance. Standing to his feet he stared out to the being who held a lantern as their steed strode forward, spotting Inari now they slid free from the saddle of their mount and led it over towards him. Tying it upon the branch of a nearby tree the being began their stride towards him, their steed appeared uneasy in the night and attempted to walk towards it's rider before realizing that it couldn't the tree from the earth and awaited it's masters return.

The figure waved their arms before clearing their throat to announce, "I have no intent of hurting you, sir! I merely wish for a moments rest!" The voice came across as being somewhat frightened and out of breath, this person didn't appear to have any ill-intent so Inari simply nodded and beckoned him forward. From here he sat himself down upon one of the rocks once more, when the man got closer he could see his features illuminated in the campfire. The man wasn't unfit to be riding a steed by any means, he was a little shorter than Inari had been and a decent among heavier-set than he was. Before long the man collapsed onto another of the nearby rocks and breathed heavily for a few moments then spoke once more. "You're a difficult one to pursue. I am a messenger of Lord Akai, leader of the Tiger Clan. I've brought this parcel to you on request of the young lord." The mans voice was somewhat haggard and from the looks of it he had been exhausted. After a moment he produced a fine letter from the bag and handed it to Inari who took it without second thought, "To think you would have left your residence and ended up in the middle of nowhere so quickly. It's almost like you were trying to isolate yourself-" The messenger continued before falling silent as the cold expression from the kitsune mask stared at him.

"Sorry, might've been a bit too personal. I'm not thinking straight, a bit exhausted from riding four days consecutively." The man said before glancing to the fire that sat before them, Inari took his glance away to stow the letter within his shirt for the moment being. Afterwards he stood and pulled one of the sticks free from it's anchor and handed it towards the man who stared at it for a moment in confusion. "Are you sure? I don't want to burden you or anything" The messenger said but the look in his eyes showed that he had been hungry. Inari nodded to him before making another gesture for the man to take it, this time however the messenger obliged and began to eat that which he had been offered. Inari took another of the sticks and removed it's anchor from the earth before sitting back upon his rock, bringing the flesh to his mouth he took his first bite out of the serpent. The meat was stringy and tough but that was expected from the creature it came from, it didn't taste fantastic either with a lacking of seasoning or anything else to go with it. Reaching into his pouch Inari produced a container of water and took a swig of it before noticing a longing look from the messenger aside him, much alike the rest of this exchange he tossed the container to the man who nearly stumbled off the rock in an attempts to catch it. The fire continued to crackle throughout all of this and after a little while longer they had finished the meal, the remaining bones were tossed into the fire or used as a makeshift toothpick to pull portions of the stringy material from their mouth.

As Inari returned the water container to his pack the messenger approached him, his footsteps appeared calm almost like he were approaching a friend. "Thank you for that Inari, take this before I leave- as thanks" The messenger spoke before handing a small pouch to him with a smile and fearing it was currency of some form Inari quickly made attempts to refuse it. The messenger shook his head and returned it to his pocket before sighing, "I should return to my family... i'm sure my wife and son are worried. If we meet again allow me to repay the favor. So long" The man bowed and Inari bowed in return before watching the messenger climb back atop his steed and head off towards Tiger clan territories. A small curvature etched it's way into Inari's mouth but as the ends attempted to curl up he turned back to his rock and was seated once more, a serious expression instilled itself as he pulled the letter back from his clothing and opened it. Sliding the parchment from it's casing he unfolded it and began to read it against the firelight, the manners discussed within were something of concern to say the least. The possible outbreak of war loomed ever closer between Feurey and Rivenne and based on the stories he'd heard of their military prowess it wouldn't be a short-lived battle, not only this but there was an invitation for those receiving the message to meet at the Tiger Fang Garden. This of course was somewhere that Inari had never gone, and the circumstances at which this meeting was to be held were far more concerning. After he'd read through the note a few more times and committed it to memory he stood and moved towards the fire before relinquishing it to the flames as he did with most letters, if they were committed to memory then the message would stay and without a physical copy it made it challenging for others to find out. This of course was a bi-product of dealing with under the table trades and a bit of con-work that he'd participated in while training towards his current standing.

After a few hours rest Inari packed up what little he had brought with him on this quest and checked around the camp for anything important, and once he confirmed that nothing was he made haste to put out the flames and cover any track that he'd been here. Then came the journey to the tiger clan territories, he was prepared for it at least and made his way there as hastily as he could manage.

-A While Later-

After trekking onward for the better part of the night into the early morning Inari had made his was to the garden, he wasn't fatigued from the walk thankfully though he wouldn't be in objection to finding something more fulfilling to eat. Glancing around he noticed that a few of the other nobles had made themselves present as well, surprisingly he had been one of the earlier members to arrive. The thought of food came to his mind again before he deterred himself from it in favor of the situation at hand, all the others who showed up likely weren't grovelling about how they ate something unappealing so he shouldn't either. His master would've scolded him in the events that he complained over something as minuscule as food, quickly he recovered from this selfish state of mind and mentally chastised himself for thinking in such manner. Returning his attention to those around him he noticed that the group had grown in whatever amount of time he'd been glancing downward, investigating those around him brought a few interesting faces to note. The first of which was a child that had been escorted into the room, possibly one of the other nobles children that refused to let them go alone. Next was a duo that entered, turning his head slightly caused his mask to follow suit and look towards them- once again features registered about the red-eyed girl and stern looking male. His investigation was interrupted as the man known as "Akai" began to speak once more.

The name plucked at a memory and he recalled that fairly recently the new Lord's mother had passed away, it was an unfortunate situation for anyone to be in especially with that kind of pressure. Or at least... he assumed it was difficult, dealing with the loss of a parent you'd been close to and all that. Nevertheless he returned his focus to the young man and listened intently to the speech or perhaps it would be better shown as a debriefing, regardless it took a semi-comedic turn when a voluptuous figure began to appear from behind. He thought to alert the young man but the feminine figure didn't appear hostile, and that suspicion was proved when she proceeded to making the situation's mood swing in a moments notice. A few chuckled and jealous mutterings came from a few nobles that surrounded Inari who could do nothing more but sigh at the sorry state that they must have found themselves in. The young lord appeared quite livid about the interruption as well, going as far as to call the woman a whore even, had this been a planned humor he might be disappointed but given that not even the young lord expected it there was only a means to shrug it off and move on.

The way she spoke to the boy though, perhaps she was his mistress? If not that then maybe she was an old flame of the lads, regardless it didn't have anything to do with Inari so the simple curiosities would be left to their own from that point onward. His stomach however was something he needed to handle as it threatened to call out to it's owner at any point, his attention snapped back to the conversation as Akai spoke once again this time giving the meeting point and the time required. They would be in attendance with the Queen of Pirates in an attempts to have her secure the waterfront defensive, immediately following this he barked an order for the nobility to leave. Inari thought to leave on that note, but the densely packed nobles making their ways out dissuaded him into waiting for a break in the crowding. The other faces he made note of seemed to have left as had most of the other well-looking nobility, the few who slowed their exit looked scraggly to say the least some having a poorer clothing style and others with wildly unkempt hair. Most of them discussed gearing up for their journey, or dropping by a brothel to party away their worries away among other things. Inari had a similar plan to their first idea that was of course getting supplies. A slight pain found it's way to his abdomen and reminded him that getting something substantial to eat would come first, running out of strength before he'd even begun the attempts to aid in the war was unacceptable.

Thinking back on the time he'd spent in the Tiger clan's territories he made a mental recollection where the marketplace had been and followed what his half-empty gut was telling him. The time he'd spent here had been very little due to the fact that he hadn't handled much business in this area. Usually he was in charge of helping between territories or in the Crane Clan so this was somewhat different to him. In spite of this he continued his observation and began to look for some place that offered a decent meal the other supplies could wait for now.
 
The wooden door to The Hunting Party’s headquarters squealed as it opened. The white light of the sun, filtered into the dark, candle-lit chamber where an armored Rivienne soldier sat in a small wooden booth. He raised his hand to his brow, squinting his eyes through the glare to see the outline of a blond-haired man. His hooked nose wrinkled as he irritably yelled, “Either come in or get out! Close the door already!”

The silhouette waved and the man exuberantly summoned, “Oh Hunting Master! We’ve caught your dragon!”

The Hunting Master’s bushy brows suspiciously frowned. He then scooted back his chair and stood before he turned toward the door of his booth. He undid the iron latch and stepped through the door before turning to close it. Using an iron key, he locked the door to protect the loot within and pocketed it as he headed out of the guard house into the street. As soon as he stepped outside, his brown eyes widened and he took a fearful step back. Before him, its carcass draped across a four-horse-drawn wagon, was “The Desert Dragon”—more like lizard. Its spine was covered in wavy spikes and its arms, legs, and tail resembled an iguana. Its head hung out the back of the cart, its pale pink tongue so long it dragged several feet behind on the ground. Kids were poking the tongue with sticks while flies danced in celebration above it.

The young man who had summoned the Rivienne guard was seated proudly on the wagon, grinning with extra cheese. His hands were resting upon his thighs before he threw open his arms to model off the fascinating catch. A crowd had gathered to gaze upon the beast that had been destroying merchant wagons and devouring travelers and villagers.

“Ta-da!” the sellsword called Locke chimed.

He scooted off the wagon onto the ground and yanked one of his swords free of its sheath with a shrk! The steel resonated musically and before Locke decided to use it, he paused to look at the Hunting Master with a smile. “We not only found your dragon, but we also found your missing men!”

We, who Locke referred to, was the tall and silent kitsune who stood next to the horses with his muscular arms crossed before his chest. He was patiently watching his surroundings, and the mannerisms of the Hunting Master. His name was Hiro Noiyega of the Crane Clan, but to everyone else surrounding him, he was an armored sellsword just like Locke. A helm hid his ears. The black and silver armor he wore hid the rest of his fox features.

To the left of Locke, standing by the head of the creature, was a young woman with a long bow on her back. She held a lyre in her hand and was playing a joyful tune to set the delightful atmosphere. With a smile, Shaia Thornbow swayed back and forth, her eyes closed as she felt the music.

Locke swung his sword and sliced a seam across the lizard’s bloated belly. Like a bag of innards busting open, the partially digested bodies of soldiers, merchants, and villagers spilled out onto the ground in a clear curtain of fluid. The stench wafted throughout the area, causing the crowd to step back in disgust. The Hunting Master gave one look at the pale and twisted bodies and his cheeks inflated with chum that he turned to spew onto the walk. All the while, Locke was still happily grinning away for he knew that he and his party had struck it rich—and struck it rich they had!

The Golden Gobbler Tavern

The tavern was packed to the brim with not only customers but noise. It was so loud that the band on stage was barely heard over the sound of roaring, laughter, and intoxicated screams. Hiro and Shaia were seated at a table. He stood guard over Shaia whose face was red from the numerous spirits she had consumed. Their table once covered in food was instead covered in empty plates. All that was left was a single chicken leg that nobody wanted. With his arms folded in his lap, Hiro’s eyes had been closed as he focused on tuning out the din. Every now and then, he opened a single eye to glance at Shaia whose head was bobbing. He made sure none of the other mercenaries were going to get handsy with her.

A hand rested on Hiro’s right shoulder then, and a weight fell against him. Hiro’s brows converged, but his eyes did not open. He knew exactly who it was from his scent.

“Why aren’t you celebrating?” Locke exclaimed. He leaned against him shoulder-to-shoulder before he attempted to right himself. The back of his knees caught the edge of the bench and the drunk collapsed across the table with a clatter of dishware and cutlery.

The noise awoke Shaia in a start, and she smiled in amusement at Locke. “Ha! You can’t even stand!”

Locke didn’t even try to get up. The table felt so comfortable. “I don’t even wanna.”

Shaia glanced at the chicken leg, grabbed it and pointed it at Locke. “Here! Eat the last leg. Nobody wants it.”

Locke turned his head away, and then rested his hands upon his round, stuffed belly. “Do you not see this? I can’t eat another bite!”

Shaia grinned and continued to poke and twist the leg against his cheek. “Come on. Eat it. You ate most of the food any way!”

Hiro muttered, “I have never seen such unrestrained gluttony.”

Locke grinned at Hiro’s comment. “That’s because we haven’t struck it rich in a whaaa-!”

Shaia stuck the chicken leg into Locke’s mouth, catching his cheek. The knight’s lips closed about the bone and tears started to roll from the corners of his eyes. He was going to explode he just knew it, but it was a great way to go. There was nothing like dying consuming good food. During Shaia’s and Locke’s antics, a stranger walked by their table and set down a note upon passing. Hiro’s eyes cracked open, following the back of the cloaked figure who quickly vanished into the crowd. He grasped the letter and hid it under the table before he cracked open the red wax seal. The monk frowned after reading the text.

The Road to Grenouille

The wagon shook and jostled over every rock, bump, and dimple in the road. Hiro was driving a mule-drawn wagon along the trade road with Locke and Shaia haphazardly dumped in the back. Both drunks had passed out last night and hadn’t even realized that he had loaded them into the back of a wagon until one of the spokes jumped over a stone. Both Shaia’s and Locke’s bodies were briefly airborne before they dropped back down in a heap. Shaia’s amethyst eyes flew open and her hand went to grasp her forehead as the hangover started to set in.

“Ugh…” she groaned. She attempted to sit up, feeling a pair of legs stretched across her chest. She glanced over at Locke who was still out like a light with the chicken bone from last night still poking from the corner of his mouth. She shoved his legs off and grasped the edge of the wagon as she started heading to the front. As she stepped over Locke, she yanked the chicken bone from his mouth and tossed it into the road before she joined Hiro in the coach.

“Morning,” Hiro greeted.

Shaia leaned against the monk’s shoulder and poked her bottom lip out in a pathetic pout. “Hiro, my head hurts,” she whined.

I’m traveling with children, Hiro thought. “You drank plenty last night.”

Shaia’s silver brows shot upwards as she leaned off Hiro and excitedly asked, “Who drank more?”

A sweat drop descended down the side of Hiro’s head. Was that really all she cared about? “Locke. Clearly.”

“Aw~” Shaia fussed. She then returned to leaning against Hiro’s shoulder. “Where are we going?”

“Grenouille City.”

Locke’s eyes then suddenly flew open and the knight abruptly sat up, his blond hair cow-licked into disarray. His blue eyes were large and they stared at the moving road and the golden, cracked plain. Shaia turned her head to regard Locke. She didn’t even bother to raise her cheek off Hiro’s shoulder as she lazily stared at him.

“Did you have a bad dream?” she asked him.

Locke blinked and then shared, “Someone in my dream said Grenouille…”

“I said Grenouille,” Hiro clarified. “We’re going there now.”

Locke turned over onto his hands and knees and crawled across the wagon bed to the front. Grasping the rail, he stared at Hiro with so much shock and dread that the kitsune might as well had insulted his mother. Hiro’s amber eyes rolled over to him. “Are you all right?”

“Huh?” Locke said as though waking from a dream. He had zoned out in thought.

“You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.”

Shaia smiled impishly and teased, “Got an ex-girlfriend there that you’re afraid of?”

Locke looked at Shaia and then scowled. “No.” He then turned around and started scooting to the end of the cart. “Can we stop? I need to piss.”

Hiro tugged on the reins to halt the mule and Locke jumped out the back. He walked over to the edge of the road and undid the strings on his pants. Hiro decided to take a break himself and stretch his legs. He walked over to Locke and faced the opposite direction of him as he pissed. “Do you have demons there?” the monk asked curiously.

Locke continued to frown out into the desert. “I haven’t been there in a while.”

You have a kid! And you’re trynna’ hide it?

Shaia’s sudden voice made Locke tense and his face flush red in embarrassment. What is she doing over here? he thought. She better not be peeking. He peered nervously over his other shoulder to see Shaia standing similarly to Hiro.

“No; I don’t have a kid there,” Locke irritably replied. He then growled, “Can you guys just let me piss in peace?”

“Not until you tell us what made you look so scared,” Shaia demanded.

“Hiro!”

The fox grabbed Shaia by the arm and dragged her back over to the wagon. “Oh come on Hiro! I know you’re curious too!”

Hiro replied, “Locke will tell us when he is ready.”

“Hmph!” She crossed her arms in defiance as Hiro continued to drag her back to the wagon.

Locke stared distantly into the desert. I’m heading back there again…and so soon. He finished up and returned to the wagon. “Why are we headed there any way?”

Hiro approached Locke and removed the letter from his chest plate. He offered it to him. “While you two were drunk, a stranger left a note. An envoy of the Kingdom of Rivienne.”

Locke’s eyes scrolled over the note, and then his hand went to his face. “Ugh…”

Shaia had climbed into the wagon and curiously asked, “What’s wrong?”

“I really don’t like getting involved in religion and politics, but this deal is too good to pass up.”

Hiro frowned. “After you and Shaia ate and drank away our reward money, if we ever have another celebration, then the reward for this job will more than cover it.”

Locke blushed and scratched at a sideburn. “Ha! We didn’t drink that much.”

Hiro reached behind his chest plate once more and removed a golf ball-sized sack. Locke held out his hand and stared blankly at the tiny sack.

“What’s this?”

“What’s left.”

Locke stiffened as though the cold finger of death had slid down his back. Shaia was also regarding the tiny sack in horror. She then accused, “If Locke wasn’t such a pig! I drank only two mugs and had a single plate of food.”

Gripping the sack angrily, Locke roared, “Yeah right fat ass! You ate your fair share. You’re no princess!”

Shaia growled and guarded the wagon like a bull dog. “How dare you! Hiro, let’s go. Locke can walk off those bakery rolls!”

“What? I have the body of a god!”

Hiro sighed in exasperation and climbed back into the coach to continue their journey. Locke walked for most of the way, and Shaia barked at him every time he attempted to climb into the back. It was when he nearly fainted from heat exhaustion that she allowed him into the back and pumped him full of reserved water.

Grenouille City

Prior to attending the meeting, Locke had taken extra precautions to hide his identity. He dyed his hair and brows black with some oil to further shroud his identity. Hiro and Shaia hadn’t really understood the circumstances but paid him their respect of privacy. The three nobodies stood among ten, well-dressed poms. Locke muttered out of the corner of his mouth to Shaia and Hiro, “I feel so underdressed. It’s like I’m not even wearing clothes.”

Shaia blushed and replied sadly, “I know. I feel like such a boy.”

Thank you all for coming… Locke’s party curiously looked toward the host. When you enter the room, please take your…Oh yeah…only nobility is allowed to enter…

Shaia sighed and crossed her legs before she sat upon the floor. Hiro lowered to his knees next to her, while Locke remained standing with his arms crossed.

“The meeting’s probably going to take a while. Why don’t you sit?” Shaia asked Locke.

Locke dismissively turned his other cheek and frowned. “I’m good.”

“You should rest while you still can,” Hiro advised.

Locke’s expression hardened and a rosy hue bloomed upon his cheeks. “I can’t…”

Hiro frowned in confusion. “Why not?”

Locke sighed and spoke at a tone low enough that only Hiro would hear. I got to fart

Hiro’s nose wrinkled and he closed his eyes. Shaia looked at the fox. “What did he say?”

Hiro leaned over and whispered in her ear. “EW!” Shaia squealed.

“Will you shut your loud mouth!” Locke exclaimed in embarrassment.

“Hey! Keep it down! There’s a meeting!” a guard barked.

Locke clapped a hand over his face and muttered lowly, “I know. Of all places. I’ve been holding it in since we entered…”

“Why did you wait until now?” Hiro asked.

“It was unplanned. Look; I think I can make it. As long as I don’t bend over, then we’re good.”

Hiro just bowed his head feeling embarrassed himself. Why had he decided to travel with him again?
 
Last edited:
Grenouille City -> Grand Desert


“The church is confident that the Land of Feurey has no intention of cooperation, and the Army of Darkness has yet to reach our lands,” Goldelle responded instantly.


“Confident about no cooperation? So you haven't even tried contacting them? Surely joint cooperation between our lands will save us valuable time and resources that we'll eventually need,” said Lanthane.


“I suppose I was wrong when I thought you would be one of the more intelligent nobles in this room. We are going to take the Land of Feurey’s crystal. A crystal is a nation’s symbol of power, gifted to them by the gods. It is not something one would hand over so easily, much less to the very land you have been at war with for centuries. Do you understand, Prince Lanthane?” Despite the insults, General Goldelle’s voice hadn’t changed at all from the tone she has used so far during this meeting.


“I understand perfectly, General. Though, seeing as you asked, I don't understand the need to take their Crystal by force, or at all, frankly, not when both nations can utilise their Crystals' powers in their own ways and to unite against a common threat. I can't fathom why we'd continue this fighting when we have bigger problems.”


“You speak of powers you do not understand, young prince. Only the church is capable of utilising this power to its full extent, and with the power of both crystals they are capable of saving all of humanity. If you speak against the church, continue to ‘not understand’, I will gift you numerous deaths in the name of the Goddess Rivienne.” The general stated this with the same unchanging tone as before. “Now, head to the city gates. You all have a difficult task ahead. May the crystals guide your way.”


———


The caravan was already halfway outside the city gates when the assigned nobles arrived. Most of the wagons were covered in cloth, hiding whatever sat inside. Two however, were prisoner wagons, with iron bars going up and over the prisoner to prevent any chance of escape. A cloth was thrown over these wagons too, making the identity of said prisoners unknown. Two camels pulled each wagon, so there would likely be very few stops on this journey. All the wagons were made of wood, with metal supporting their structure to make them a little sturdier. It wouldn’t take much to cripple one of them, but only a few were meant to ever reach their destination in the first place.


As the nobles approached, the same soldier from before waved them over to one of the wagons. This wagon was second from the back, and was empty for them, save a sellsword dude and his group. Once they were all inside the soldier gave them more specific orders than the General had.


“Alright y’all, so we’re gonna keep most of these here wagons all covered up and do our best to make it look like this caravan ain’t very well guarded. This should entice those greedy scorpion riding bastards to attack us without thinking too much. Once the commotion starts, you and the rest of my boys will hop out and start kicking some scorpion ass! Don’t let any of them escape, we gotta find that damned prince and bring his ass home one way or another. The guy is slippery so don’t hesitate, even if he’s your brother. By the way, name’s Marck.”


With a smack of the side of the wagon, the caravan started forward. Marck hopped into the back-most wagon, which wasn’t covered by cloth, and leaned back into his seat. It was quite early in the morning but kany townsfolk had woken up to see the caravan off. They may not have known what the soldiers were headed off to do, but they supported their military nonetheless.


———


The caravan moved slow, and the journey felt like an eternity. The sun almost at its highest point when the caravan decided it was time for a break to let soldiers relieve themselves onto a small clump of trees. When everyone got back into their seats, they continued on forth. They trip gave everyone a long time to talk about whatever they wished, of course, they had to do so in hushed voices, but they could talk nonetheless. Who knows what this group of strangers would talk about!


——————————

Hikani Village
12:00



The town of Hikani was small. The couple hundred people that lived there took great care of their town, and made most of their living off of fishing and farming. They were self-sustaining, but anything extra went to support the Tiger clan. The homes were small, modest, and design in an older style common to the smaller villages of the south. Green grass a beautiful flowers covered the area between homes, while a simple dirt road connected the village to their dock. The dock was fit for several smaller boats, but not for any real ships. Fortunately no one was trying to go fishing today.


Normally the coast was warm and sunny. It was spring, and one would often see children running about in the streets, and merchants calling for people to purchase their goods. Today however, a thick fog blanketed the town. It was so humid that simply stepping outside make your hands feel moist.


Otomo Akai sat atop an empty barrel on the docks, he stared out towards the ocean, but the heavy fog prevented him from seeing past the edge of the dock. Ina sat on the ground next to him with her legs folded. Across her lap lay her naginata, the blade of which she ran her finger up and down in boredom.


“Stay alert everyone,” Otomo said loudly to the nobles that waited with him, “they could arrive at any moment.”


He was having a hard time concealing his nerves. Someone like him meeting with a bunch of pirates wasn’t exactly a smart thing to do. Hell, it was a dangerous thing to do. The Queen of Pirates often kidnapped important people to collect ransom money. Whatever happened, it was too late to have second thoughts now.


Ina rose to her feet, turning to look towards the far side of the dock. “It appears they won’t be helping us, Lord Akai,” she stated.


Just as she did the whiz and thud of an arrow hitting the wooden floor between the group.


Otomo nearly toppled off of his barrel. “A warning shot? Can the-,” he paused for a moment. “Is that something burning?” Otomo’s eyes focused on the arrow that had struck the dock. A small light traveled along a string towards some sort of wooden tube attached to the arrow. “It’s a bomb! Get away!”


The young lord turned and jumped into the water below. The cold ocean bit deep into his bones and his whole body shook.


The explosive went off with a deafening boom, masking the sounds of footsteps sprinting towards the group. A group of burly and dirty men with all sorts of different weapons and clothing emerged from the fog. The only thing that proved they were all a group were the sky blue bandanas tied to some part of their body. One man wielded what was obviously a sword from the Kingdom of Rivienne. Another held a katana in each hand. One of them yelled out in the commotion as more arrows rained down in front of them on where Otomo and his group had been.


“We’ve got a date wif’ te young lord! Grab ‘im and we drag the boy back to the ship! Go ‘head an’ kill his little friends!”


The rest of the pirates, which numbered at least twenty, roared as they charged across the dock, looking for the young lord. Anyone they found on the dock was sure to be attacked.​
 
Sheridan Sasaki
It took a long time to find where the market was. She had to ask several people for directions on where the market was. When she did find where the blasted market was, she realized something when she dug into her pockets. She had forgotten to bring any sort of currency with her. It was only a minor setback, she didn't need rations immediately. Maybe an apple or two will suffice her needs. Stretching out her cloak, she grabbed the small wooden doll that she had strapped onto her waist. Bringing it up to her face, she observed it. It was like the many other dolls back at the hermitage. A small log of wood with several log shaped limbs attached to it. Miraculous they get work done despite having no fingers.

The little wood puppet began to move. Maneuvering from numerous amounts of legs, it hid behind the stand. It turned to look at the vendor. She seemed like she was preoccupied with her current customer. Seeing that as his opportunity, it stealthily went about and picked up an apple. Turning around it darted away before the vendor was done talking to her customer. It made its way back to Sheridan and offered up the apple to her. Upon taking the apple, the puppet went limb and fell down onto the fall. Stashing away the apple into her pocket, she picked up the puppet and strapped it back onto her waist. With her 'rations' done, she left the market area. Now all she needed to do was find the docks.

It didn't take long fortunately and she did made it to the docks. Putting a great distance between her and the docks, she waited along with many others. The main reason she wasn't nearby the dock was because she couldn't swim. Almost drowning was not on her list of 'what to experience.' Hopefully that didn't happen in the journey she was partaking in. Then again, she shouldn't be so hopeful that wouldn't happen to her. She was partially listening to whatever the little tiger had to say, and turned to look when he mentioned something about a warning shot-

Sheridan was blasted back by the explosion. Slightly dazed from the explosion, she looked up. Thankfully, she didn't sustain too many injuries due to being far away from the docks to begin with. Though that wasn't the problem right now, the problem right now were the approaching pirates. Gritting her teeth she began to usher out a command to her puppet dog that had been happily blasted away along with her. "Defend me." The happy puppet dog stood in front of Sheridan. Anyone who would get in its range would be quickly jumped on by the dog, who would try to sink its teeth into their neck then quickly turn to the next victim. Reaching into her bag, she brought out three talismans. "Wane!" A small curse that would reduce the first pirates hit with it reduced speed. Their legs will grow heavier and they would have a harder time rushing at her.
 
Last edited:
General Goldelle was fierce, Mason thought to himself during the meeting, it was no wonder the Church held her in such high regards. He was much to afraid to speak up in the meeting, along with dealing with recently learned that he was a noble then suddenly being thrust into a conflict that would involve combat, it was almost more than he could handle. Having never been formally trained in the arts more martial, the only weapon that Mason carried, and even that was mainly for show as he had never deigned to use it, was a simple mace. the few practice swings he had taken with it were clumsy at best, and laughable more often than not. It was lucky that he had arrived with all of his belongings, because instantly after the meeting they were escorted to the wagons where they were given, another, briefing albeit this one much more informal, and from a man named Marck.

The wagon they were led two had already been occupied by a very intimidating man, though they stood roughly the same height, he was built like a wall. Mason's frame looked like that of a sickly child compared to the man before him, he was terrified and relieved all at once to see, what seemed to be, such a capable warrior among them. When he climbed into the back, he was sure to give the man a wide berth and choose a seat at the back, not wanting to cause anyone trouble by having to navigate around him, and tucked himself into as small of a space as he could muster. He breathed a small sigh of relief when he saw that familiar face from the meeting step inside along them, he hoped this man would be kind enough to speak to him, else he would be stuck pouring over the tome that he had read more times than he could count.

The journey was rough to say the least, Mason had never ridden in a wagon before, but he could now successfully say that it was not his favorite thing. The ride itself was slow, as treks through the desert often were, but he did not imagine the heat that would be generated from the bodies inside, let a lone from the sun itself. Within minutes he was sweating, though only uncomfortable and not unbearable, Mason once again thought about how in over his head he was. Resigning himself to a silent prayer, he remained mute in voicing his issues, remembering the threats that the General had given to the one who had questioned her in the meetings. Surely complaining about something everyone else was aware of would not fix the issue either, but it was so unbearably hot, and Mason was so unreasonably nervous that the comment made its way out before he could stop himself.

"It's too hot." he said accompanied by an exasperated sigh and an immediate sheepish look.
 
Lanthane Portrait.png
Lanthane Aramis Grivois
Mentions: Mason ( HeyItsBanana HeyItsBanana ), Locke/Hiro/Shaia ( The Black Knight The Black Knight ), Goldelle ( InsaneAsylum InsaneAsylum )

Lanthane had stuck to his original plan, poked, and poked, and poked the golden bear with a stick of questions just a smidgen more, until she completely reeled on him. Well, at least she hadn't ripped into him, but she had threatened to if he decided to prod her further with that stick. He had realised some of the stares he had garnered from the surrounding nobles, and only then did he realise how far he had prodded. He probably would have been meeting Gerran at the Crystal had the General not had the sense to stop him there. Finally seeming to understand his place, the young man cleared his throat, before he responded. "My apologies, General. I'll not tarry for much longer, in that case." He smiled, nodded, begrudgingly going through all the pleasantries before he took his leave. In fact, he was one of the first to take their leave and to step back into the foyer outside the war room.

Once again, he caught glances, though, they were more for the nobles those waiting outside were accompanying. He paid little mind as he walked on out, and felt a familiar figure shadowing him. Gerran was known for being a silent figure, but his suspicion didn't quite help to hold his water.

"It sounded as if General Goldelle was giving you a briefing," he began in a low tone, eyeing the mop of Lanthane's hair from behind.

Lanthane glanced over his shoulder at the stern man's expression. "Correct," he affirmed with something a smile, though, it was muted, more thought had to be put into physically smiling at him than it had been usually for him. He had too many questions left unanswered, and whatever answer he received only sprouted more questions. He cocked his head at Gerran, raising an eyebrow. "I didn't think eavesdropping was your style, Gerran." He teased.

"It's not, unless it involves you," Gerran responded with no hesitance, taking a wider step so he walked in tandem with the younger man. "What did she say?"

"We have to look for Prince Nolan,"
Lanthane explained, watching the Gerran's stoicism slip, his movement slow for a brief moment, before he remembered himself. "Believe me, I can't believe it myself," he mumbled, bringing his gaze forward again to watch where he was headed. "Anyway, we're to bring him back and put him down on father's comfy chair." After his words, he felt the silence grow heavy among the both of them. It was a silence the young man knew well; one where such information would be processed, before Gerran would finally fill it.

It came in the form of a whisper, one that may as well have been planted directly in his ear, considering how far Gerran would lean down towards him. "You don't really believe that, do you?"

Lanthane scoffed. "Of course not." He could feel it in him, that something wasn't right. He just couldn't pinpoint what yet. "But I don't have much of a choice but to follow orders and keep questions to myself. We won't know what's going on until we go and fetch him, and even at that, that's not going to be a walk in the park," he sighed, rubbing at one eye with a few fingers. "I'll give you the rundown. But first, let me pick up a few things."


The rundown from the soldier, Marck, had been brief and to the point. Nothing too complicated with what they had gotten into (literally), and before they knew it, they were already making their departure from the city gates. Lanthane couldn't help but wonder about the other two caravans containing what he assumed to be hardened criminals, and their purpose in all of this. He assumed it was just 'supplies' making their way across the Grand Desert, though, he had settled on the conclusion that people could be transported too. He had been answering enough questions in the early morning.

Not counting Lanthane or the man, Gerran, who made his presence painfully known to others by appearing suddenly at his side, the young man counted four others who shared their company. Three of them sat close in a tight-knit group, clearly all acquainted, considering them having already been in the caravan before Lanthane and Gerran even arrived. The young man recognised the fair-headed man, and stood taller than Gerran if he remembered rightly, who was present outside the war room when he had arrived earlier. Given his rugged and heavily armed appearance, he must have been a sellsword hired by the General. A smart decision, he had noted, considering they needed as much man power as they could muster if they were to go after Nolan Grivois. The other two accompanying him included a man with peculiar fox ears and a rather stern disposition, and the most beautiful, captivating, alluring young woman, with hair the whitest of sands he had seen in quite a long while. Had Lanthane been given the chance, he would have been right by her side trying his luck before the soldier's briefing, had Gerran not seated himself between her and the clearly attracted Prince. Though, if Gerran was naive enough to think he could stop the man from chatting up a woman, he truly didn't know the noble he served.

The other man who had joined them seemed a little out of place for a noble - not solely based on the more humble attire he wore - but more in the meek behaviour he exhibited by squeezing himself into the smallest space of the caravan he could. Lanthane noticed in the meeting how overwhelmed he had been, much more than of those present. He felt some pity for him, having been thrown into all of this suddenly. Suddenly being the word he focused on. He hadn't seen this man before now, nor ever crossed his path. Though, he felt as if he had recognised him from somewhere, though, he couldn't quite place where...

"The guy is slippery, so don’t hesitate, even if he’s your brother."

Lanthane blinked, remembering the words Marck had parted with. His brow creased in further thought, realising the meaning behind those words. Another one? He thought wearily, his gaze gravitating towards the man once again. He was beginning to lose track over the number of siblings he had.

A sudden jolt of the caravan - no doubt running over something, whether it was a stone or some poor creature who happened to come across it - and the sound of tinkling brought Lanthane back to the present moment. Instinctively, he grabbed the bag he had set down beside him, peering in at the contents. A quick inspection of the coloured vials and glass bottles that were tucked away inside showed no signs of damage. He gave a short puff, causing one of the curls from his mop of his hair to rise slightly, before falling back down near his eye once more. There was only so many of his creations he could bring along with him without being burdened with the combined weight of all of them. Plus, Lanthane had no idea how many damned scorpions and thieves they would be faced with, so he ran the risk of either bringing too few of his weaponry, or far too much. At least he had that dagger with him, should any problems arise from such predicaments. He remembered being gifted with it around his eighth birthday - or was it his tenth? He found it ludicrous at the time; a child being given a dagger. He had loathed it at first, yet, never seemed to part with it. Those were dangerous times, after all, and still were dangerous times.

Once again, he was brought out of his present thoughts, but this time, by a voice. A complaint about the heat. Lanthane's eyes moved towards the man in the small space, who almost immediately seemed to regret his comment. Gerran hadn't reacted much to the comment, though, no doubt, he was probably irked by the reminder of the blasted heat. Lanthane, though, hadn't been bothered by it. In fact, he chuckled at it - softly, given their need to not cause so much noise. "You're right. It's too bloody hot," Lanthane also complained, feeling his shirt underneath his vestments stick uncomfortably to his chest. Small spaces with a group of people like them never boded well with Rivienne's scorching heat. "Bloody cramped too." He muttered, leaning forward as he felt his shirt loosen its grip on his skin. What he wouldn't give to be sitting in an spacious room with fresh air, sitting at his desk producing yet another day's worth of work. Or nights. It led into nights, in all honesty.

The young man's eyes moved to the others stuck in the caravan with them, before a thought crossed his mind. He straightened his back for a moment, before he leaned back in his seat, a smile encompassing his lips. "I suppose we should all introduce ourselves. No point jumping into the scorpion pit if you don't know who's jumping in with you. I'll start," Lanthane quickly added, not giving any of them much of a choice as to keep their names to themselves. "Lanthane. But I find it's somewhat of a mouthful, so, Lan does just as well too." He then glanced to the older man beside him, who stared back at him for a moment. Whatever they were communicating with their eyes, it was hard to distinguish. But soon enough, Gerran had turned to the others with them, and he mumbled.

"Gerran." ...and left it simply at that.
 
The meeting hadn’t seemed all that long, but then Locke and his party didn’t get a chance to find out. Marck had gave them orders to help prepare the wagon for their mysterious mission. Locke was starting to feel like they hired them to be grunts rather than assistants. But once they helped prepare the wagons, they were able to claim some spots. Locke chose to sit near the drop door in case he needed to jump out and well…something else. Hiro sat to his left with his legs crossed and eyes closed in meditation, and Shaia sat to the left of him staring at her lyre. She wanted to play a tune, but the Rivienne soldier had directed her not to. Something about not wanting to make too much noise, bah! She frowned and already started whining, “This ride is going to be boring.”

“Anyone bring cards?” Locke asked.

Hiro reached beneath his plate armor and removed a deck of cards. Immediately, Shaia’s and Locke’s faces lit up like excited children. Locke snatched the deck and he and Shaia scooted over to the space across from where they sat. Hiro felt relieved and hoped the cards would keep the two occupied. Eventually, others approached the wagon and Shaia and Locke briefly glanced at the different characters climbing inside. The first guy who climbed in was lanky and appeared raised with a silver spoon up his ass…or was it in the mouth? Whatever. Locke’s eyes narrowed some and as he dropped a card in the pile, he whispered to Shaia, “He’s gonna die first.”

Shaia peeked over her shoulder at Mason, her amethyst eyes peering from beneath the brim of her feathered hat. After conducting a brief visual examination, she turned back toward their game and whispered, “Aren’t we supposed to protect them?”

“Shit! You’re right. He’d do better to just stay in the wagon and keep his head down.”

The next group to enter was a tall man decked in armor. Shaia remembered that he had been standing in the hall they had all waited in like a loyal dog. Her eyes widened a little in surprise as she felt the bold and confident presence he gave off. “Wow,” she whispered.

Locke turned his head to glance at Gerran and twisted his lips some.

“He’s probably better than you with a sword…”

“Why? Because he’s wearing fancy armor? Psh.”

The man that entered behind Gerran had a pompous air. As Shaia regarded Lanthane, she tried to guess his personality: prim and proper, probably a mama’s boy. He needed a big bodyguard to protect him, so he couldn’t have possibly been a combatant. They had two liabilities in the wagon.

“This is going to make for an interesting tale.”

“Yeah, if we strike it rich.”

They played their multiple rounds of various card games, and even got into a few bickering matches over who cheated. The heat eventually forced them to conserve their energy. Shaia returned to her seat between Gerran and Hiro. She had to remove her hat for it was making her sweat profusely. Her tunic beneath her leather armor was already clinging to her sun-kissed skin. She fanned herself with her hat as sweat rolled from her brows and down her neck. Locke had resorted to reclining in the walkway. He was stretched out with his arms crossed behind his head and eyes closed. He had attempted to meditate as Hiro had tried to get him to do every now and then, but he instead wound up dozing off asleep. Even Hiro, as quiet as he had been most of the trip, no amount of discipline could keep him from sweating and wishing they hadn’t had to cross the Grand Desert again.

There was a squeak of it being too hot in the corner of the wagon. Shaia glanced over to the deadman she and Locke had secretly placed bets on. What a whiny baby. At Lan’s remark toward Mason, she smiled a little. He was actually kinder than she had predicted. When the man asked for them to finally introduce themselves, she was more than delighted to. After Lan and Gerran went first, Hiro surprised her when he answered before her lips could part—for he had been silent nearly the whole trip, “Hiro.”

Shaia theatrically gave a wave of her hat and pressed it against her bosom as she bowed slightly in a curtsy. “And I am The Great Teller of-”

Locke had turned onto his side and a soft whining flatulence had stolen the words from Shaia’s lips. She glanced over at the blonde, her nose wrinkling in disgust as she started, “You are so-”

A loud wind escaped Locke’s bum. It was so long and heavy that its decibels could have been felt through the boards. There was a shameless smile on the sellsword’s face as he even raised his leg a little to make sure it had all escaped. Shaia’s face turned beet-red in embarrassment and she slapped her hat against her face just below her eyes to guard her nose from the affronting odor that started to permeate the sauna-like heat within the wagon. Even Hiro’s fox-like eyes opened wider than normal as a hand clapped over his sensitive nose. He had to clap two hands over it being the demi-human. As his golden eyes started to water, he couldn’t risk opening his mouth to curse at Locke.

Locke was already laughing, fanning the remaining fumes from his bottom. “Aaah, thank the gods that finally came out. I thought I was gonna pop!”

“You are such a Neanderthal!” Shaia uttered a muffled shout through her hat.

Locke raised a hand to his ear and playfully said, “What?” Before he resumed laughing. Despite, the funk that started to contaminate the remaining fresh air, he was in tears and barely able to breathe because of his mirth.
 
Last edited:
InariGetting into the square had been about as easy as expected, the greatest challenge had simply been avoiding shoulder contact with the others who had also made their way through this bustling hub of bodies. It took him a short while to find the items he searched for but in a short while he'd managed to sate his stomach, thanks to a small noodle shop, and gather the supplies he required. Thankfully most of what he had purchased was cheaper, so he only took a small hit to his funding and allowed for the rest of his coin to take solitude in the newfound room of it's pouch. From here all that had been left was to get to the dock before noon the following day, and so he began his journey to the smaller village. Upon arrival he took care to scout around for a few hours, mainly just to get a hold on the terrain in the case that something went awry with their meeting that would follow. It gave him a decent layout of the area and for the most part the people seemed to be tranquil in their lives, whether that remained true in the proceeding events wasn't anything he could judge just yet. Airing on the side of caution he left the village and made his way to the outskirts of it, taking a great caution to avoid any wandering eyes of the pedestrians living in the village before deciding to rest for a few hours. Given that they were to meet with pirates you could never be too cautious. After all, pirates were nothing more than deceitful cutthroats who would go as far as to declare mutiny if it was fit for their personal goals.

The next morning Inari returned to the dock and noticed that a few others had shown up as well, some of which stood a little ways from the dock itself. Perhaps they were fearful of getting wet? The thought caused the ends of his lips to curve upwards ever so slightly before glancing back out to the sea and stepping onto the dock. He didn't approach too far towards the young lord of the tiger clan, instead he opted to stand towards the edge of the dock remaining somewhat apart from the other nobles who had shown up this afternoon. His eyes traveled between all the members who were present- it appeared that most of everyone from the day prior had shown up, though no sign of the notorious 'Pirate Queen' had made itself known yet. The notion to stay alert was welcomed but it appeared that there was something else they needed to be cautious of. Inari's eyes locked onto an object speeding towards the dock and stepped to the side a little out of precaution, the resounding thud of something embedding itself into the wooden dock below keyed him in on what he couldn't see. An ambush. The form was a bit discerning, an arrow with something attached to it, a faint sound came from the this vessel and despite the young lords remarks he could hear what sounded almost like a dull hissing accompanied by the faintest of crackling.

His eyes widened beneath the mask as a realization of what it was crossed his mind, the young tiger lord confirmed this when his voice split through the hissing. Someone had launched an explosive at them. Inari joined the escape from the dock as soon as he could manage it, the hissing cutting short just behind him. Upon hitting the sea the first thing to hit him was the temperature, the cold biting into his flesh sought to drain any semblance of heat from his body. It felt like even his bones were beginning to feel pricks of this cold prod at them. This sensation was cut short as the dock behind him exploded, splinters of wood firing into the water like expertly thrown darts and a wall of force thrust him towards the seafloor. It was almost like a giant had pressed down on him as though he were nothing more than a button, the force jarred his eyes open to be met with a stinging sensation. The world around him was blurred, the outline of what he had assumed to be the other nobles began to fight against the water and come to the surface, or perhaps those were just fish that were panicking from the explosion. Glancing to his arm allowed him to notice a small cut, likely from one of the wooden shards, though it wasn't bleeding enough to be considered more than a mild inconvenience. Shattered planks of wood fell into the water around him and those that didn't float atop the surface began drifting down towards the rock-speckled sand.

Kicking his legs and pulling towards the light once more he began to swim upwards to the surface of the water, the sea pulled past him as his masked head emerged and took in a breath of the less sodium rich air. This was accompanied by a small fit of coughing, muffled by the water that occasionally pressed it's way against his face once more as it had begun to settle from the explosion of activity prior. The ringing in his ears began to subside and the sound of commotion began to fill them instead, looking up towards the land he noticed that the conflict of this ambush was putting itself into action. The band of pirates chanting about what he could only assume to be bloodshed, or perhaps this was part of a larger ploy that they'd established. Glancing around he managed to notice that some of the other nobles were readying weaponry... or shaking off the effects of the bomb from what he could tell. Regardless of how they acted he seemed to notice a general disorientation to them all as the band of pirates approached. Inari made his way to the shore and pressed himself up against the relatively small embankment formed by the earth, water still splashed against his soaked form and repetitively pressed itself into his pant legs but for now he was at least somewhat confident that he had hidden himself from view. After catching his breath he began to travel down the embankment, his hope was to catch a lone pirate off guard or get information to relay to those he was working for. Every so often taking glances up at the pirates he continued down this path, and hoped that they were focused on the rest of the nobles rather than him for the time being.
 
Last edited:
Lanthane Portrait.png
Lanthane Aramis Grivois
Mentions: Mason ( HeyItsBanana HeyItsBanana ), Locke/Shiah/Hiro ( The Black Knight The Black Knight )


Lanthane hadn't expected so much of a warm reception to the idea of people introducing themselves. Ugh, warm. Wrong metaphor to use in head, he'd admit. It just made him more aware of the beads of sweat trickling down and hiding amongst his eyebrows. Mentally, in his head, he checked off the more silent of the group as Hiro. He awaited eagerly to hear of the woman's name, after having been stopped previously by Hiro, to think on it, let it roll off his tongue, express his delight in meeting...

...until he could hear a...whining? A squeaking? He couldn't quite put a finger on what it was, but he noticed the source of it had come from the man sitting in between his two accomplices. He rolled his eyes at the immaturity of treating a lady in such a manner. Really, it was rather a disgrace to carry on in such a manner in front of a lovely woman, even if they seemed to know each other. Lanthane would have had words to express on that matter.

If he hadn't caught the stench that was filling the entire wagon. Much like the others present, he rushed to find something to shield his nose from the odour being carried on the hot air inside the wagon. He managed to grab enough of his cloak to cover his nose and his mouth, though, he figured he'd have to use it to cover his whole face in a matter of moments. Lanthane couldn't place what in the good Goddess's name that stench that erupted from the man even was. Rotten eggs? No, much worse. Even worse than the impromptu explosions of stenches his concoctions had conjured up throughout most of his wing of the castle.

Gerran, however, hadn't rushed to cover up his nose so quickly, or at least, wasn't so dramatic about the whole affair. There was only a slight wrinkling of his nose, before he refused to use it any longer, and only glanced between most of them as if it were a mild inconvience.

"Gerran?! Do you not smell that?!" Lanthane's muffled exclaim reached the soldier's ears, to which he hadn't been able to help using his nose to breath again, grunted as if expressing mild disgust, before he responded.

"You're forgetting I worked with livestock for fourteen years. I've smelt far worse."

"I'm pretty sure it borders along those lines,"
Lanthane grumbled that accusation, pulling more of his cloak up to his face. Goddess, what the young man wouldn't give to be out of this wagon and getting sand caught up in the crevaces of his shoes right now.
 
The Grand Desert

As the caravan wheeled through the desert, the lead wagon spotted a small group of men standing in their path a short distance away. The driver of the lead wagon continued towards them, slowing to a stop as one of the men walked forwards with his hand out. The men’s faces were wrapped up in cloth. Only their wide and alert eyes were visible. As the driver inspected them further, he noticed each had a pair of daggers at their hips. Fortunately there were no scorpions in sight. Were these bandits really the group they were looking for?


“You boys need something?” The driver asked before he took a quick puff of the pipe his teeth held. The bandits didn’t seem to be wearing much armor. If anything, it was animal hide or thin leather.


The bandit out in front motioned to the other six. The six bandits cautiously moved forwards, towards the line of wagons.


“You have more supplies than we thought. We’ll be taking a look and then taking what we like if you don’t mind,” the leader of the bandit group stated. The leader himself stayed planted in front of the caravan. He didn’t seem bothered by the heat in the slightest as he glared up at the caravan driver.


The camels were beginning to act restless. They stomped their feet and cried out in worry. Marck noticed this, as he peeked through a small slit in the cloth covered wagon. One of the bandits was approaching his wagon. He held up his hand in a fist to the other soldiers in his wagon. They all held their breaths. Everyone in every wagon was dead silent. The only sounds were the restless camels, the desert winds, and the sound of bandit footsteps. There had been no signal agreed upon by the caravan to commence the attack, but Marck knew a simple battlecry is all it would take. The sound of footsteps outside his wagon stopped just in front of the cloth flaps. Marck didn’t waste a single second. He planted his boots into the wagon and launched himself forward with all his might. He held his sword close to his body and pointed out as he burst through the cloth. He felt his blade pierce flesh, and blood splatter onto his face. As he tumbled to the ground he rolled to his feet and cast his eyes onto the struggling form a one of bandits. Marck clenched his fists and roared.


“ATTACK!”


From each wagon, soldiers leapt onto the sand, sprinting out to attack the bandits. Many charged straight for them, but others moved to flank them. The bandits were obviously surprised that they were being counter ambushed. However, they were no rookies. The bandit leader, let out a sharp breath as he slung a throwing knife into the throat of the driver. He ran forward and hopped atop the wagon, surveying the situation. There were about fifty soldiers overall. The middle of the caravan held the two prisoner wagons, and the back and front was where most of the soldiers were at right now. It wouldn’t be long before they were defeated. He had to act fast. Pushing away a strand of golden blonde hair that had slipped from his cloth wrapping, the bandit leader, put two fingers to his lips, took a deep breath, and let out an extremely high pitched whistle. On command, the ground began to rumble beneath the caravan. Many of the soldiers, including Marck stopped in their tracks and the sudden tremors. Marck however, was quick to remember the few reports they kingdom had on these bandits. The scorpions could move underground.


Sand burst into the air like a geyser, and from ground emerged a scorpion. It was larger than two men, and its stinger was thicker than a ballistae’s bolt. It’s carapace was coarse and a dark tan, with pincers able to break a man in half. Four more geysers erupted from the ground, bringing with them four more scorpions. The thieves each sprinted and hopped to the nearest scorpion. They jumped onto its back, where a leather saddle waited. The caravan’s soldiers were quick to create a distance between themselves and the immense scorpions. One charged straight into one of the wagons, knocking it down and sending the two camels attached to it into a panic. The fight started fast, but the soldiers needed to end things quickly if they wanted to capture the prince. They just had to figure out which one was him!


----------


Clans of Feurey




The first line of charging pirates found themselves slowed down and running lazily as Sharidan’s curse struck them. The pirates behind them simply shoved them out of the way as they charged, doing little to slow their charge. The were quite dismayed to find only one individual remaining on the docks. A lightly armored woman stood next to the blast zone, peering down into the water. She turned as he heard the footsteps draw near and raised her naginata and pointed it at them.


“Is this all the pirate queen could send as a welcoming party?”


Somehow Ina had managed to avoid the blast without jumping off the dock, but she’d need more support if she was to fight the rest of these pirates off. Ina slowly began taking steps towards dry land, however, she stopped before reaching it. She had placed herself between Sheridan and the main cluster of pirates. She peeked over her shoulder and smiled at the undersized woman before taking up a basic fighting stance. The pirates snickered and once again charged the woman.


“I don’t mind cuttin’ up a woman! C’mere and get sliced up!” One pirate yelled as he swung her sword at Ina. As the pirate swung his sword down he watched his arm fall and hit the wooden dock. Ina then proceeded to smack the dull end of the naginata into his head, sending him toppling into the path of his comrades. The pirates kept on coming though, and Ina could do little more then keep them back with the length of her naginata. If a pirate drew too close, she simply slid backwards and slipped the tip of her blade into their throat. Nonetheless she was being pushed back, hopefully those nobles Otomo was so confident in would start showing off their potential soon.
 
When the wagon started to slow, Hiro was forced to relieve one of his hands to clap down over Locke’s big, laughing mouth. The dragoon became still. Shaia frowned as she listened for the cause of the pause in their journey. The trio listened closely. Whatever it was, it didn’t sound friendly.

“Bandits,” Hiro reported. He could hear the best. The fox’s face then scrunched in disgust as Locke’s funk still lingered in the wagon. Locke snickered against his hand.

ATTACK!

Hiro raced over to the cloth wall and peeked through an opening to see the soldiers in the first wagon, engaging the bandits. “There’s not a lot of them,” he informed. Fresh air had never smelled so sweet in that moment.

Locke sat up and shrugged. “The guys we’re supposed to protect are here.”

Shaia also held up her hands in a shrug. “There’s more than enough out there to handle the problem.”

The wagon then suddenly shook violently causing Locke to fall back and Shaia to fall forward. Locke sat straight up with wide eyes. “What was that?!”

“A scorpion. A giant one,” he reported.

“WHAT!?” Locke exclaimed. “No one said shit about scorpions!”

“It’s just one Locke,” said Shaia nonchalantly.

The wagon shook again and Hiro reported, “Now there are five.”

“WHAT!?” Shaia shouted next. “That’s not fair!”

Hiro saw one of the scorpions charging toward the wagon. He warned, “Everyone get out now!”

Hiro grabbed Shaia, and Locke turned toward the nearest wall. His hand went to the hilt of one of the blades sheathed at his back, and he drew it in one smooth motion, slicing a gap in the cloth. The three jumped out of the wagon a second before the scorpion had knocked it over. Hiro set Shaia down, while Locke gawked at the giant creature. Shaia slapped his shoulder, which snapped him out of his stupor. “Locke, you dummy. Why didn’t you grab that guy?”

Locke blinked. “Oh shit. The deadman guy! I wasn’t even thinking about it.”

He glanced over to the turned over wagon and the cloth that spilled over the sand. If the wagon hadn’t flattened him, then they still might have had some money. The cloth also could hide him if he remained still. Locke frowned as he mused over a plan. “Shaia cover me. Hiro, you know what to do.”

Hiro nodded once and unbuckled the steel torso armor he had been using for cover. He removed the helm from his head, casting it aside and revealing his pointy, orange ears. He continued to undress until he was in his commoner’s clothing and kept the gauntlets on his hands.

Shaia shouldered her bow free and drew an arrow to nock. The three mercenaries nodded and raced off toward the scorpion menace. I got this, Locke mused. It’s just a giant bug. He frowned in determination and smirked as he swiftly approached the backside of the arachnid. I’m gonna take that tail clean off.

Unexpectedly, the scorpion whirled around causing Locke’s face to pale. His straight charge into battle suddenly curved. The bandit scowled as he watched Locke flee and snapped the reins to get his scorpion steed marching after him.

“Oh shit; oh shit! Did you see the claws on that thing?!” Locke peeked over his shoulder and screamed when he saw that it was chasing him. Its legs pierced the ground like knives and its tail cracked at him like a whip. “AAAAH! KILL IT! KILL IT!”

Shaia watched Locke flee with her eyes narrowed in embarrassment. She patiently waited for an opening as Locke kited the creature, and when the opportunity came, she drew back on the bow string and shot a swift arrow into one of the scorpion’s glass ball eyes. The scorpion immediately halted. Its pinchers rose to its face as the creature shrieked. Locke slid to a halt at the sound and whirled to gaze upon the injured beast. He grinned dastardly. Now HE had the upper hand. The blonde knight charged toward the scorpion. Its rider had been crawling across its back, trying to reach for the arrow, when Hiro jumped onto the scorpion’s back and swung his leg around in a spin kick toward the side of the bandit’s head. The bandit’s head snapped to the side and his body fell with it from the saddle onto the ground in a heap. Hiro dropped down to grasp the bandit and get clear as Locke jumped into the air. He leapt abnormally high for a knight. Both of his hands clutched the hilt of his sword as he aimed it down at the top of the scorpion’s skull. When he landed, his weight forced the blade through its carapace with a crunch. He back-flipped off the scorpion’s head as it screeched in pain and its tail thrashed in its death throes. When the scorpion’s tail dropped like a tree across the ground, Locke raised a victorious fist and cheered, “Yeah!”

He then shot a thumbs up and cool grin to Shaia who rolled her eyes. “We still got four more you dummy!”

“Let me enjoy this!”
 
Lanthane Portrait.png
Lanthane Aramis Grivois
Mentions: Mason ( HeyItsBanana HeyItsBanana ), Locke ( The Black Knight The Black Knight ), ( InsaneAsylum InsaneAsylum )


Gerran straightened up, similarly to a hound that could detect the slightest change in atmosphere, as the caravan rolled to a stop. Seeing Hiro silencing Locke with a hand over his mouth was enough to confirm his suspicions. He glanced over to Lanthane, who exchanged a stare back as they listened to the sudden announcement of people 'inspecting' the stock of their caravans. They froze, listening to the sounds of disturbed camels, a whistling wind...

Then, a battlecry.

Lanthane would have bolted out of the caravan, given the chance, though, Gerran grabbed his cloak and kept him in his seat, like he was a small child about to stumble into the way of a moving cart in the capital's streets. He groaned, and turned to him with an annoyance similar to a small child's, "Gerran, we're supposed to be-!"

He was interrupted by the sudden trembling and jerking of the caravan, practically sliding into Gerran. Mind you, he made little movement, even when Lan fell right into him. Lanthane smirked, though, before he could pass humour on their close proximity, Hiro had made the announcement that a scorpion had appeared. And then four more straight after. "That's...a lot of scorpions." Lanthane pointed out the painfully obvious. Though, he couldn't help but gawk at Hiro in confusion at his barking to get out of the caravan.

Gerran was quick enough to heed the order. He grabbed Lanthane by the collar, and dragged him to the back wall of the caravan. Lan's protests didn't fall on his guard's ears, as he was shoved through the cloth with enough force that he ripped through it, and landed into the sand, face first. He was about to follow, though, found the jittery one of the group was still nestled in his corner of the caravan. The Knight seized a part of Mason's robes, throwing both him and himself out before they landed out onto the sand, the caravan tippling over as soon as a scorpion overturned it.

Gerran seemed to recover rather quickly, rising onto his hands and knees as he looked at the mage beside him. "You alright?" He asked, looking at him with some genuine concern. Though, he hadn't time to wait for an answer, not with the sound of a prolonged yelling coming towards them. He hurried to his feet - as fast as the damned armour could allow him - unsheathing his sword as it hit the incoming bandit's wrist, forcing him to drop his dagger. With his defense down, Gerran found an opening to thrust into him with his sword, before the bandit's body dropped to the ground, spurts of blood staining the sand.

Lanthane wobbled to his feet, making spitting noises as he attempted to get the last of the sand out of his mouth. He grinned at Gerran, his face dottted with sandy particles. "My knight in shining armour."

"You're welcome,"
Gerran responded gruffly, readying his sword once again for more any foe that dared to cross his path.

Lan began assessing the situation around him, though, paused when he remembered the man who complained about the heat from earlier. He reached into his bag, relieved most of his potions and other aids remained intact, and pulled out cylinder-shaped vial, filled with a mysterious green liquid. He grinned, before he shouted to Mason, "Hey, uh...you! Drink this! It'll beef you up a little!" With that, he tossed the vial towards him, hoping he would catch it. If not, well...the sand would break its fall?

"Lan, stick by me, and we should get through this," Gerran told him, not turning to look at him as he said this, rather, focusing on what was in front of him. Though, when he heard no response, he glanced over his shoulder, and with wide eyes, watching as Lanthane began bolting off in an entirely different direction - towards a pair of scorpions terrorizing nearby soldiers. He turned and he called after him, "Lan!!"

Already honing a bubble-shaped bottle with a misty-grey liquid in his hand, he squinted, trying to find the leader of this rag-tag group of bandits among the two scorpions he pinned his eyes on. Though, he realised the only thing he had to go on was the possibility of Nolan being blond - but even at that, all of them could have been of that hair coloured variety. He grit his teeth. Regardless if he was riding one of those two scorpions or not, he couldn't just leave the scorpions to pick away at the soldiers. Gripping the neck of the bottle, he shook it furiously, the liquid darkening, and sparks starting to ignite inside. "Incoming!!" He warned the soldiers amongst the scorpions, before he chucked it towards the looming beasts. Once the glass hit the ground nearby, the glass exploded with surges of lightning, catching both the scorpions and their riders and sending shockwaves through their systems.
 
Mason Arembur
Mentions: Lan & Gerran ( Arcanist Arcanist ), Locke ( The Black Knight The Black Knight ), ( InsaneAsylum InsaneAsylum )

As the others introduced themselves Mason was lost in the joy of the moment, this mission may be terrifying him to his core, he was literally shaking in his boots, but everyone seemed to be working together at the moment. For a brief time he had even managed to take his mind off the heat, with Lanthane, who expressed his desire to be called Lan which Mason would try his best to remember, introducing himself and even his imposing friend at least giving his name, Gerran. Hiro, much like Gerran, only gave their name and as the only woman began to introduce herself she was cut short by her companion with, Mason had to admit, what was an impressive passing of gas. Many of the others in the cart recoiled in disgust, Gerran along with Mason and Locke, where the few who seemed unscathed. Rotten eggs? Mason asked himself, "Well at least we know your digestive tract is working properly, and if all else fails you can knock the Prince unconscious with those fumes." Similar to Gerran who stated that he worked on a farm for some time, working as a healer had assaulted Mason's nose with all manor of festering odors, he was, thankfully, nose blind to such mundane stenches. Nearly forgetting to introduce himself, the young man spoke up, "I'm Mason, a white mage with the church, erm I was with the church." Embarrassed he hung his head and looked to the floor, avoiding the gaze of so many others who seemed even excited at the thought of fighting. "I will do my best to help where I can, though I'm not much of a combatant." He chose to remain silent after that.

Minutes passed, and suddenly the air about the cart grew tense, they had stopped moving. Mason's heart beat pounded in his ears, it was all he could hear, he did not even notice when everyone so calmly sprung into action. It was as if his feet were cemented to the floor,
'Move Mason,' He tried willing his legs to work, but they gave no response as his mind flooded with the image of a man lying in a pool of blood in an alley, 'Move!' he screamed in his mind. Mason was the only one remaining in the cart, people were screaming in pain, others in terror, there was calling of giant scorpions and even returned screeching of agony, though it may have just been anger, from what he could only assume were said beasts. The only sound that Mason took note of was the rhythmic pounding of his own heart, he shouldn't be here, he was a detriment to this mission, he was dead weight, and he would most likely be the reason that they would not capture the Prince. Then, all of a sudden Mason was flying through the air, no not flying, he was being pulled out of the caravan eyes wide with terror as it was toppled onto its side. He landed roughly on his back, but the sand had cushioned the vast majority of his tumble, he looked up to see that the man who had pulled him from the danger, seemingly without a second thought.

They were currently under attack, possibly outnumbered, possibly outmatched, and this man who was not even a noble was risking his life, one that wouldn't be revived should he leave this mortal coil, to save someone as useless as Mason. The heroics of Gerran would not be easily forgotten by Mason, but when the two had met gazes, no doubt his own eyes were filled with terror and confusion, but he was greeted with a genuine compassion and worry as the mighty fighter paused an instant, one that could have cost him his very life, as he asked
"You alright?" before rapidly rising to his feet to effortlessly dispatch a would be attacker. In Mason's mind the world froze, there was no sound, there was no motion, all of the chaos that had started to abruptly had ceased for this one moment in time. The man that he had failed to truly save in that alley from so long ago flashed into his mind once more, a painful reminder of his previous failures. 'Not this time.' Mason told himself, as the sounds of everything returned, accompanied with a small vial of green liquid that landed on his chest, a gift from Lan, who had just ran off toward the giant scorpions. Unfortunately in his daze, he did not catch what the brew would accomplish so he quickly pocketed the potion and steadied himself. Taking a deep breath he drew out his tome, scouring quickly for the proper page.

"Thou who desires might," he began, locking his eyes onto Gerran as he chanted, "and thou who would use it to defend the weak." It was at this point where small flecks of light began to gather around Mason's form, it seemed as though they were being pulled from the air and ground around him, gathering upon the page of the tome. "To the ones whom need the might to make even mountains bend to their whim, I beseech thee!" Mason voice rose as he finished the incantation, runes made of light flying directly from his tome into Gerran. "Accept this gift of strength and fortitude, and seize thy quest with thine own might!" With a snapping shut of his tome, Mason had finished his spell, though he had never used it on someone as physically fit as Gerran, he had seen its work first hand, many laborers would have this cast on them when dealing with particularly heavy materials, some achieving feats of lifting twice or even thrice their own body weights with ease. "Gerran!" Mason called out to his savior, "Lan's gone off but I'm here, I'll do what I can!" The battle was raging all around, but Mason finally had a firm footing and would not be so easily beaten.
 
Sheridan Sasaki
The puppet dog was ripping the throats of any bandits that was coming close to Sheridan. Swinging itself around a man's neck as its teeth tore through his neck, it let go and jumped to its next victim in order to tear another man's throat off. Sheridan frowned at the sight of her puppet dog's performance. She feared that she would have to replace his teeth after this battle. Though she made the puppet dog in likeness to a dog. The teeth would probably be dull very soon if battles like these kept on occurring. It would be a slight hassle to repair each time, though she might as well create another puppet for battles if things kept on happening like this. While it would be an enlightening experience, she would find no passion in making them.

However, the battle in front of her required her attention. She had expended some of her talismans to slow the hordes of pirates that were coming at them. While physically weakening them would be an ideal choice, she decided to not do it. Seeing as her allies seemed to be fending themselves well enough, it didn't matter if she lowered their strength of not. Instead, maybe she should just start cleaning them up with one of her more advanced spells. While she had never seen the spell in practice, she had read it from one of her caretaker's scrolls under her tutelage.

Grabbing several talismans from her pockets, she threw them out. They circled around her and started revolve around her. Her cloak started to blow back as wind gathered around her. The talismans emitted a fiery, dark purple glow as it revolved around her. Raising up her hand, she looked up to the sky. Her hood was slightly obscuring her vision, but that didn't really matter to her right now. A small dark blow manifested above her and started to swell in size. It would take some time for this spell to finish, but it would thoroughly drain the bandit's of their blood. Or it could just blow up. She never really read into the more destructive curses inside of the book.

Hopefully everyone would agree to her course of action.
 
InariContinuing to sneak around the shoreline without so much as a sound was a challenge in itself. A fresh flow blood entered the sea below as one of the recently deceased pirates had been kicked aside by one of his companions, the body splashed into the waves and gave a moment for the masked ninja to press forward at a somewhat hastened pace. As the sounds of conflict dissipated somewhat he leapt up from the embankment and discovered himself to be somewhat away from the seafarers. He noticed that the remaining group seemed to trudge forward as their upper lines spilled to the side, appearing to show signs of fatigue. Given how they looked it seemed that some sort of dark magics may have taken hold on them. Looking past them he could see two figures, the woman who the young tiger lord appeared to have a distaste for and a smaller figure. Come to think of it, she had been at the meeting by herself in a similar way. Perhaps she had gotten sent to assist in her guardians stead, though that seemed unlikely in itself. Shaking the thoughts from his mind he reached into his coat and began to withdraw something. His eyes glanced towards the young one again, noticing the talismans along with the large shape of darkened energy brought a little reassurance.

It was a somewhat familiar sight to him, granted it was wielded in a different way than he had been used to in the past. After retrieving the item he had been searching for, his intention changed to something of aggression. Quickly darting forwards he moved alongside groupings of barrels and crates until he had managed to get close enough to the back-line of their assailants. Flicking his hand forward six objects sped forward, slashing through the air as they traveled. Hearing the faint sound of something whiz past was enough to draw the attention of one of the pirates who twisted back to look at it's source. Unfortunately he had turned directly into the trajectory of one of the shuriken tore into his neck and stuck itself firmly in place. In fear he reached a hand up and had been caught by another through the palm, but not before his body had out of instinct reached up and tore the foreign object from his neck. His eyes appeared to bulge as his form began to weaken. Continuing forward Inari had managed to catch sight of a few other pirates who were attempting to aid their fallen comrade.

Returning his vision to the ball that formed above the magic user, there was evidence that he may not have much time left to assist before the spell went into action. Dashing out from behind the boxes he continued towards the grouping of hostiles, his intent would either put him in a dangerous spot or make it easier for the remainder of the group. The other two turned away from their bleeding out companion and instead looked to the fox-masked being who was upon them. Before they could manage to swing their blade he leapt up and kicked his speeding form into the first of the men, this sent him forward into the other who had seen Inari's approach. When the kick had planted the youthful ninja kicked off the man and his legs flew above that of his head, his hands met the earth below and served to launch him airborne once more. This time however he flew backwards in attempts to escape blast zone as the two gentlemen had begun to tumble into their crew. Hopefully this would press them closer together and ensure each target was appropriately damaged, though the men closer to the center of the group may have been sturdier than he expected.

Following his airborne motion he landed on his feet and took a few steps back, fighting groups was a horrid thing for him to deal with. He much preferred handling a singular target in order to preserve his cover, but in this case acting as a spy wouldn't tell the rest of the group anything they didn't already know. All that was left was to wait for whatever dark magic was being conducted to accomplish it's purpose, that and figure out where the Tiger Lord had gone. Glancing over to the water he watched for any form of struggle before returning his gaze to the not-so-stealthy attackers.
 
The Grand Desert

"Looks like they kingdom really wants me taken care of. Too bad they underestimated us... fools as usual." The bandit leader slipped small little pipe from a satchel on his hip. He raised the pipe to his mouth a blew. An ear splitting tone sliced through the eardrums of everyone nearby, but just as soon as it started it stopped. The bandit leader didn't move from his place atop the wagon for a couple moments. He simple watched the soldiers look at each in confusion as the remaining scorpion riders took up defensive postures. Then without warning, an arrow sunk deep into a soldiers chest dropping them limp into the sand. There was a brief pause, before a barrage of arrows began raining down on the caravan. If one was able to find cover and look around, they would be able to see the arrows coming from atop various rises in the sand dunes surrounding them.

Marck sprinted and slid beneath one of the wagons, narrowly avoiding an arrow landing right next to his face. "This ain't going too well..." He muttered quietly. They were pinned, and at the moment he didn't know a good way to get out. The arrows forced the scorpions to protect their riders, but if they stayed hidden too long more might come and pick them off. Marck groaned again. Hopefully the nobles had something tricky up their sleeve to give them chance here.

The bandit leader had dropped down behind a wagon to avoid the arrows himself. It woudn't be long before his own mount arrived. When she did arrive, it'd be over in a heartbeat.
 
[class name=Header] max-width: 500px; height: 100px; margin: auto; display: flex; flex-direction: column; text-align: center; [/class] [class name=Container] max-width: 500px; height: 300px; overflow: hidden; margin: auto; text-align: center; [/class] [class name=Textbox] width: calc(100% - 24px); height: 90%; padding: 24px; overflow-y: scroll; display: flex; flex-direction: column; [/class] [class name=Heading] display: inline; font-size: 50 pt; [/class] [class name=Text] display: inline; font-size: 10pt; [/class]
[div class=Heading][div class=header]Rin, Kaiyo, & Hiroaki[/div][/div]​
so8hfk.jpg
[div class=Container][div class=Textbox][div class=Text]
After the unconventional and quite entertaining gathering, Rin and Hiroaki trekked towards the nearby village. They stocked up on rice balls and necessities and went about their journey without alerting any commoners of their true identities. Upon re-entering the woodlands, the two halted in an opening, their senses on high alert. The air had become stagnant and alien. The clearing, impregnated with tangible unease, forced the hairs on Rin's neck to stand erect. The two travelers gazed towards the canopy of the massive trees, darting their eyes from branch to branch. Something was... off. The wind, once whirling in the air, stilled. No chirping of the birds or the buzzing of dragonflies could be heard - an unusual event for such dense foliage.

"Rin, stay behind-"

Just as the words reverberated in the clearing, Rin felt a sudden prick at the side of her neck, followed by an uncomfortable burning sensation. When she reached her delicate fingers up to the searing site, a dart welcomed her touch. Cinching her eyebrows together, Rin gripped the weapon and pulled it out from her skin in one quick motion. Blood slowly trickled from the puncture wound.

"Fuck, that hurt," She scowled, examining the woodwork on the dart.

Just as expected, the dart had been crafted by a member of her own clan based on the markings. An intricate 'K' was carved near the tip, giving away the identity of the assassin. A deadly poison was seeping into her bloodstream, mixing with her blood cells to deprive her body and tissues of precious oxygen. One dart would not be enough to do significant damage to the noble. Continuously being poisoned and conditioned to withstand the effects of the solution was merely part of her training. Now aware of the situation, Rin was able to scarcely evade the next five oncoming darts. Hiroaki wasted no time, filling the gap between the woman he swore to protect and himself.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

"Yes, dear sister, are you alright?" Laced with deadly intent, a familiar voice sounded along with the trees; a trick to keep the assassin's whereabouts unknown. "Afterall, we wouldn't want the poor princess hurt after abandoning her clan."

"Kaiyo," Rin muttered, her face contorting into something distant and pained. The assassin attempting to take her life was her own maternal half-sister. Though sisters, the two grew up entirely separate. Rin's father, Fubu, never quite accepted Kaiyo due to being from his wife's first marriage. Although Rin's life was not ideal, she would never be able to fathom the isolation and suffering Kaiyo experienced. "You don't understand," Rin shouted into the trees, her nimble legs moving quickly to avoid the flying weapons coming at her. "My father was trying to kill me!"

Hiroaki danced fluidly with Rin, following her movement. "I don't believe she cares, Rin. She's trying to kill you now."

The darts proceeded to rain down on the two, nearly missing Hiroaki. Coming from all angles, it was almost impossible for the two to decipher where Kaiyo was stationed. Or, maybe, she was moving so effortlessly along the branches, they could not detect her.

"Holy shit, how many does she have?" Rin growled under her breath.

"You've abandoned your home and your clan, Rin. You deserve to die," Kaiyo's words came out nonchalant. In response, Rin's brows furrowed and she clicked her tongue on the top of her mouth, tsk'ing. "You don't understand," Rin begged. "He killed our mother." There was a palpable shift in the atmosphere, the air thickening in awkward silence as the darts ceased. Suddenly, Rin felt a weight on her back, her body becoming flush and face first with the soil. A crushing grip encircled her wrist, twisting her arm behind her back. Kaiyo's free hand pressed a dagger to a vital artery in Rin's neck, while an expertly placed knee held pressure on her spinal cord. In the commotion, Rin had lost governance of her lance. Daring to lift her head up, Rin spit out some dirt that managed to slip past her lips. In response, Kaiyo pressed her dagger closer to her skin. "Don't move," She demanded, then glanced back at Hiroaki. He was standing behind her, his blade pressed up against her back where her heart would be.

"Ah, Hiroaki, I will admit I did always imagine you behind me," She teased. "How unfortunate it has to be like this and with the wrong blade," Kaiyo sighed wistfully. "Try anything, and her throat gets slit."

"Can you not talk about se-"
Without letting Rin finish, Kaiyo dug her little sister's face into the ground, muffling her words. Hiroaki placed more pressure on Kaiyo's back with his blade. "Liars do not get to speak to me."

Rin continued to speak into the dirt, her words seeming urgent. Kaiyo observed as she struggled, her head titling. "You're gaining weight, Sis."

Again, Rin's words were muffled, but if Hiroaki had to guess, he was sure she was saying 'fuck you.'

"Let her speak, Kaiyo. She's telling the truth."

Kaiyo glanced back at Hiroaki, scrutinizing him. He had always been reliable and dependent within their clan. After glimpsing back at her younger sister, Kaiyo rolled her eyes and allowed Rin to breathe once more.

"You damn bitc-"

Kaiyo promptly placed Rin's head back into the ground. After a moment, she rereleased her head. "Finished?" Kaiyo asked. Rin muttered something intelligible before speaking up. "Listen, I'm not lying," Rin pleaded, not for her own life, but for her sister's. "The rumors, they're real. My father killed our mother; Hiro's mom confirmed this."

Rin went on to explain Fubu's maddening personality and his paranoia. She told Kaiyo what Hiro's mother had told them before they left. By the end of it, the corner of Rin's eyes was lined with pearls of tears, her voice visibly trembling. The thing that maddened Kaiyo the most was she knew Rin was not lying. It was child's play for Kaiyo to detect when someone was lying. Begrudgingly, Kaiyo released Rin from her grip, and Hiroaki followed suit, shielding his blades. After a long and somewhat heartfelt conversation, Kaiyo decided to join their small team. It was either that or be hunted and killed for treason by Fubu for abandoning her task.

After the abrupt detour, the three set out to Hikani Village.

"You made us late," Rin complained.

"No, I don't believe I did. It must have been you and all that weight you've gained."

"What did you say?"
Rin snapped, pulling at Kaiyo's hair. The two-half siblings may not share much, but they both were blessed with their mother's deep plum hair color. Kaiyo retaliated, pulling back at Rin's hair. "I said, we are late because of your fat ass." The two women quarreled in the back as the group approached their destination. Hiroaki's face remained stoic, even with the scene unfolding behind him.

"Something seems wrong," He stated, but the siblings failed to heed his warning. The sound of a bomb detonating finally pulled the two apart. The three rushed to the edge of the city where cobblestone collided with wooden planks. An intense battle played before them while the stench of copper steeped the haze-filled air with each new strike.

"I'll take them from the air," Kaiyo proclaimed before ascending to the top of the dwellings closest to the dock. It was easy enough to spot the dirtied pirates, making it even more apparent who her comrades were based off who was pitted against who. The eldest wasted no time retrieving her wooden blowgun. After properly loading it, she strategically rained down poisoned darts at the attacking assailants. The efficient solution would deprive their bodies of oxygen in record time, leaving their lips a pale blue as they descended towards the splintered deck.

Rin reached for her tucked away scrolls, but stopped short, tightening her jaw at the scene. If she released her lightning magic, she risked the other nobles being hurt in the process. At that moment, her crimson eyes caught sight of one of the nobles from the earlier meeting. Surrounding her child-like body was dangerous magic, crackling, and pulsating. Rin knew that stronger spells took more time to manifest, and by the looks of the pirates heading towards the child, she would not have enough time to properly prepare a potent enough spell.

"I'm going in!" Rin stated, clutching her spear, Gungnir, expertly in her hands as she dived into the battlefield.

"Rin, dammit,"
Hiroaki shouted, having no other option but to follow her in.

The woman dug her heel into the back of a lifeless pirate, using his cushioned back to propel herself towards one of his living companions. Her spear went directly into his chest with a sickening crunch, blood spurting out of his mouth and wound from the impact. In one swift motion, Rin retracted her weapon, spinning it as she shifted on her heels, launching it into the stomach of another pirate. Nearby, Hiroaki was disposing of his own pirates with his blades, muttering to himself, "How does this woman always manage to get me into things like this?"

One by one, Rin made her way towards the pirates en route for the noble casting her spell while Hiro stayed behind. One pirate managed to slip past her, nearly making it to the spellcaster. "Oh no, you don't," Rin said, propelling her weapon like a javelin to the sneaky bastard. The poor pirate never saw the spear coming as it split through his neck, severing his spinal cord. He dropped to the ground in one fluid motion. Rin, now weaponless, rushed towards the fallen pirate. Right as her hand reached towards her bloodied weapon, a whistling sound vibrated in the shell of her ear. She glanced behind her, noticing one of Kaiyo's darts embedded in the neck of a pirate that almost successfully attacked the noble. Rin gazed towards her sister, her lips tugging up in a crooked smile. Kaiyo glanced away with a 'hmph,' refusing to acknowledge she had just saved her little sister's life.

Rin shook her head and placed her boot on the back of the deceased pirate, using his own body as leverage to release her lance from his neck. Once freed, his body flailed towards the ground like a fish out of water. Then, Rin continued to protect the girl. "Hey," She shouted behind her. "Not to put pressure on you or anything, but could you hurry it up with whatever you're doing?"
[/div]
[/div]
[/div]

Interations: Misuteeku Misuteeku | Mentions: Entity.Eclypse Entity.Eclypse InsaneAsylum InsaneAsylum
 

Attachments

  • Banner.JPG
    Banner.JPG
    1.2 MB · Views: 0
Lanthane Aramis Grivois
Mentions: Mason ( HeyItsBanana HeyItsBanana ), Locke ( The Black Knight The Black Knight ), ( InsaneAsylum InsaneAsylum )

Gerran had witnessed the effects of Lan's battle potions firsthand before, but it never failed to make a grown man and capable knight cringe at its effects. He would have hated to be on the wrong side to Lan, and found himself a little thankful his fate was to be on his side than on any other side where he might face him. Though, something else had grabbed his attention before he could think of running after Lan and dragging him back from the fight. Runes surrounded his figure before they had disappeared into Gerran's body. For a moment, Gerran wondered what the change had even brought; then he noticed his sword felt much lighter, his shield less of a strain on his arm than it had been a few moments previously. He hadn't much time to think on the matter, as another bandit came charging towards him. Gerran thrust out his shield in defence, only to hear a metallic thumping and a nauseating crack in front of it. When he looked down, one of the bandits lay on the ground, knocked out entirely (or dead, he couldn't quite tell) and his face...looking worse for wear. He found himself rather surprised how the strength of his thrust could cause such damage.

Gerran swirled around at the calling of his name, his eyes landing on Mason. The mage! Of course, with that book in his hand, he would be able to cast such incantations. At hearing his loyal pledge to him, he gave him a firm nod, readying his sword and shield once again. "I appreciate it, Mason. Expect the same in return!"

Though, before Gerran could return to fighting, he could hear a wooshing through the air. Upon noticing a barrage of arrows headed his way, he brough his shield up, managing to deflect the arrows. He glanced towards Mason before rushing over to him, shield still up in attempt to shield him from any arrows that headed their way. "Try to find some cover!" All the while, he searched for Lanthane among the sands, unsure of where he had found himself.

Where Gerran was lucky, Lanthane was not. Before he could take heed of what was happening, he felt an arrow pierce through the flesh of his left shoulder sending him stumbling back, and almost falling back into the sand. The shock of the moment was enough to hold Lan back, however, and he stumbled for cover behind a nearby wagon tutting at the arrow that stuck out of his shoulder. "Goddess be damned..." That's what he got for putting himself out in the open and leaving himself vulnerable. Unfortuantely, the arrow was the least of Lan's concerns with the scene they had in front of them right now. It was bad. The shower of arrows were bad enough to pick off Rivienne fighters, but it provided some time for the bandits to get away. Lan hissed through his teeth at the pain torrenting through his shoulder, before his right hand delved into his bag, the sound of tinkling ringing in his ears.

Finally, he pulled out spherical potion bottle, with whatever grey clouds inside it swirling and struggling to get out. Lan stared at the potion. Creating a smoke diversion would make it difficult for the bowmen to see where or who they were shooting - though, it had the same disadvantage for their side. Still, it was a risk they had to take, should they have any chance of trying to catch Nolan at all. Though his right arm was definitely not his throwing arm, he couldn't have cared less in the moment. His teeth clamped around the cork of the bottle, pulling it out and releasing some of the smoke, and he chucked it as far into the centre of the battlefield as he could. He just hoped that someone would be able to take initiative and find the bandit leader, else, it was a wasted oppurtunity.
 
The group of pirates were cornered. They couldn't stop the mage, the nobles were well trained fights, and a ninja had cut off their escape. They grouped up to avoid being picked off so easily.

"Damn it! She said the runt and his pets were supposed to be easy pickings! Why the hell would she lie to us like that!" One of the pirates cried out in a mix of anger and despair. "Pirate Queen my ass more like lying bi-" The pirates were cut off, as a chunk of flesh dripping with scarlet liquid was ripped from his neck. He wasn't even able to scream as dark hands from a portal above reached down tearing him apart. Agonizing screams of pain erupted from the group of pirates as their bodies were torn apart. Limbs were ripped apart, blood splattered across the docks, painting a gruesome pictures for the nobles. One of the pirates stumbled towards Inari. His arm hung from his shoulder by string like tendons. A hole ripped in his stomach leaked profusely with blood. He tried to speak but the only things that escaped his mouth was more blood. He fell to the ground, dead. All the hands returned to their otherwordly portal as the docks went quiet.

Ina rose a hand to her face. "O-oh my... What incredible magic... I suppose." She looked back towards young caster, then at each of the nobles. "I don't suppose any of you has seen Lord Akai recently?" She looked around, a worried look on her face. However something whizzed through the air, striking Ina in the chest. At first she thought it to be another arrow, but it was cold. Too cold. She looked down at her chest to see a sword made of ice stuck through her chest. The woman fell to her knees, bringing her hands to the wound before slumping over face down onto the docks.

"Oh, well that was quite unexpected," a low feminine voice said. The voice came from beyond the edge of the docks where the mist barely allowed the nobles to see. The mist began to clear in that area, revealing a woman standing atop a cylindrical platform made of ice sticking out of the water. She wore a form fitting light blue kimono that stopped just above her bare feet. Lying by her feet, however, was the young lord Otomo. "Oh my, my nephew has picked quite the band of misfits now hasn't he! I do suppose you all have redeeming qualities with the way to took out those men. Quite brutal I must admit!" She frowned, twirling her long black hair around her finger. "I wouldn't recommend attacking me right now. I have several ships ready to totally annihilate this town if you do!" She smiled innocently. "Now, I'll give you back the young lord. However I need you all to bring me something in exchange..." She waited to hear the reactions of the nobles before continuing.

Misuteeku Misuteeku FoldedPages FoldedPages Entity.Eclypse Entity.Eclypse
 
Sheridan Sasaki
So that's what the spell, Demon's Buffet, did. It was a little gruesome, she'll admit. Dark Magic didn't have many spells that directly attacked people. If anything she just unsealed a portal that had countless amounts of starving demons into the world. It was a rather roundabout offense that Dark Magic could offer, but it would have to do. Other than that, she didn't really care about the limbless bodies in front of her. There saying about karma coming back to bite you in the ass, but Sheridan couldn't remember the phrase. Either way what stood before them now was a bloody mess that was going to take a long time cleaning up. Could the demons be less messy eaters?

The woman that the kid referred to as a whore, or something along those words, said something to her. Sheridan turned around to see the woman fall to ground with an ice sword embedded to her chest. "Oh dear, that's rather unfortunate." Sheridan gazed at the fallen woman. Rather focusing on the woman, who was nearing death's doors, her attention was on the ice sword that embedded into her chest. Crouching down to inspect the sword made out of ice, a sense of giddiness crept into Sheridan's soul and smile formed on her lips. Never before had she seen any other kind of magic as frequently as Darkness. Unfortunately, she didn't witness the woman who was now talking to them or something, so she couldn't exactly replicate magic well.


Sheridan's eyes then lingered from the sword to the dying woman that had the sword embedded in her. There wasn't much she could do, or cared to do for the women. She knew a curse or two that could easily remedy the situation. An instant solution was to turn this women into a bloodsucker. There were numerous amounts of bodies and blood around them, so they could start the regenerative process with that. Though that came at the drawback of becoming a monster, having a huge desire to drink blood, and that the curse was near irreversible since any type of holy magic burned them. The second option was to cast Curse Of The Undying. It was a rather troublesome solution at best. Sure it'll prevent her from dying, but there was a time limit on how long can the curse prevent the soul from escaping out of the dying body.

In the end, she didn't care about the women. If she died, then she died. Sheridan only knew her for a few hours or so, so they didn't really have a solid connection.

The young Omnyoji's attention shifted to the pirate queen and the kid lying below her. A frown formed on her face as she looked towards the kid. While she didn't really have a solid connection with the boy, she didn't really like the kid getting hurt. It was possible for her to use Demon's Buffet again against the Pirate Queen. She could summons the demons against since she had fed them blood. A second casting would be much more faster than the first. Though the pirate queen would probably kill the kid before she could finish the spell, so that wasn't a viable option. With a sigh escaping her lips, she looked at the queen. "What is it you want?" Sheridan asked. She was a little curious on what the Pirate Queen wanted in the first place. While Sheridan had noble blood, she didn't have the political power over it, so she couldn't grant the Pirate Queen's request anyway.

The puppet dog trudged back to Sheridan was bloody teeth. It wagged its wooden tail as it sat right next to Sheridan and just waited to be pet. Sheridan continued to ignore the dog until the Pirate Queen answered her question.

InsaneAsylum InsaneAsylum Entity.Eclypse Entity.Eclypse FoldedPages FoldedPages
 

Users who are viewing this thread

Back
Top