Fandom Bravely Null IC

[The Black Knight]

Gerran did not know how right he was. Hiro saw many interesting qualities in Locke that were contrary to his own and his beliefs. His reckless and unorthodox behavior made him slightly jealous. If only Hiro could behave similarly, but his strict upbringing made it impossible even if he tried to fake it. Being around Locke gave him that feeling of freedom. It was entertaining, and at times absolutely embarrassing.

As Gerran and Rafa both made observations of their relationship, Hiro and Locke said nothing. They didn't like discussing knowing each other for a long time when Shaia was no longer in the picture. It was touchy for she had been an irreplaceable member of their group. Hiro had finished his meal and enjoyed the company and conversation, while also watching Locke try to clear the table.

The sellsword had slowed down. Beneath his helm, Hiro's fox-like ears raised curiously. It didn't look like he would succeed. Locke closed his eyes tight and sat back in his seat, which made Hiro feel suddenly uncomfortable. If Locke puked across the table, then he was going to kill him. Locke opened his eyes. His cheeks were still round with food.

"I'm so full that I can't even swallow my food," he explained. No; Locke chose to do much worse than vomit. His hands went to the strings of his trousers to loosen them, giving his stuffed belly more room to comfortably distend. Melody returned from the kitchen at the worst moment in history. She was drying her hands on her apron after washing dishes and she smiled happily to see that other patrons had joined the table.

"How is every-"

Hiro's face paled in that moment in time when he watched Locke lean to one ass cheek, his other raised in Melody's direction. If only he had the power to freeze time, then he would have saved himself and poor Melody. Locke executed his most lethal attack since he sucked with a blade. The loud and long fart was without shame or secrecy. It had silenced Melody. Her words might have fled into her throat along with conserved oxygen before the noxious heat wave followed. Unfortunately, her mouth had been open and Hiro didn't even want to imagine what that could have implicated.

With the decrease in intestinal pressure, Locke was able to finally swallow his food as he straightened in his seat. The remaining gas surged up into his mouth and exploded forth in a heavy belch. With a relieved sigh, the sellsword patted his stomach and said proudly, "Aah, I think I made room for dessert."

Hiro's hand was clamped over his nose as usual whenever Locke decided to assault it with his bodily odors. He kicked Locke beneath the table making the sellsword jump.

"Agh! What the gravy!" Locke shouted and glared daggers at Hiro. "Your little nose bothered? Too bad! It's human nature!"

He then saw Hiro's eyes dart to the right. Locke glanced to his left and glimpsed Melody standing there with a mixed look of mortification, revulsion, and maybe even violation on her face. His blue eyes carelessly darted back to Hiro.

"So wha-ooh…" Realization slapped Locke in the back of his skull. Had she been standing there when he...he saw Hiro nodding as though the kitsune knew what Locke was wondering. Locke's own face paled then. They were going to lose her for sure now! Damn it!

Locke blushed madly as he turned to Melody and attempted his pathetic apology, "Heee~y; were you there the entire time? Sorry about that that was really bad timing…" He then broke in shame dropping to his knees before her in a bow. "I'll do whatever it takes to make it up to you! I didn't know you were there! I'm sorry!"

Melody slowly turned her back to him and started heading to the kitchen without a sound. Hiro painfully watched as Locke crawled after her, continuing to beg while flashing his plumber's crack due to his loosened pants at everyone.

"Wait! Don't run. I mean it. I'll do anything!"

He grabbed the skirts of her dress in two tight fists, and then a loud tear sounded throughout the bar. Several mouths fell in that moment. Locke froze in shock, clutching what was the back skirts of Melody's work gown. Her creamy legs up to her round, white panty-covered bottom were revealed to the entire tavern. Melody stiffened as she felt the cold air racing along her legs. Her hands immediately went to clap over her bottom; her left leg raised like a horse and she kicked back to drive the heel of her slipper into Locke's face; while screaming as though her innocents were violated.

Hiro had to put an end to the disaster for he feared the hole Locke was digging had no bottom. He raced over to Locke as his head was rocking back from Melody's kick. Hiro's palm clapped over Locke's face and he slammed the back of his head against the floor. He then snatched the cloth from his hands and used it to cover Melody as he quickly escorted her back into the kitchen. Hiro then marched back over to Locke as he was grasping the back of his head and baring his teeth in pain.

"Shit! There goes my recruitment pitch!" Locke panicked.

"You...I am at a loss of words. You are just a fool," Hiro told him.

"Do you think I still gotta chance?"

"Will Nouvellen and Finnell have a fourth child?"

"What? You're speaking riddles at a time like this?"

"No Locke. Absolutely not."

Locke overheard the old man asking about magic tricks. He had been annoying all evening demanding for ale and now attention. Locke irritably yelled, "Nobody cares about your stupid magic tricks Grandpa! How about you make yourself disappear?!"

 

[Arcanist]

Lanthane
Mentions: Locke/Hiro ( The Black Knight ), Sarah/Sage ( InsaneAsylum ), Vivian/Rafa ( Takumi98 )​

Lanthane listened to Sarah as she proposed - or rather, dictated - how things were going to go. He knew Sarah lacked the patience, prefering to use more choice methods of her own than wait for the man to tire out and give up being so stubborn. He struggled to hide the grimace in his expression at the thought of Sarah doing things ‘her way’. Though, loathe as he was to admit it, perhaps this was the only way to treat the prisoner, and he doubted any other authoritative figure in this war would treat any one of them as Lanthane had been treating this spy.

He began to detest the realities of this war with every waking moment he was stuck in it.

Once Sarah departed, giving other strict orders to the soldiers, Lanthane frowned in thought. Just what could they do to get information out of this spy? And enough that it might convince his sister to change her mind…

It was during his thoughtful few moments that his eyes landed back on the caged cart nearby. He blinked momentarily, before he remembered the prisoner that had been stuck in there. He wondered if she knew this man, or if she knew of anything that might be beneficial. Doubtful, if Sarah and the soldiers had already pressed her for questions. Still, something on the spy would have been helpful, and it would at least get the ball rolling in order to garner something from the reasons of this spy’s being here.

Lanthane approached Vivian, turning his back to the spy as he muttered, “Sister, you’ve heard of the prisoner’s noble lineage, haven’t you?” He asked, quietly, though, he felt the need to clarify nonetheless. “Yoana, King Ragnan’s daughter. Perhaps she recognises this man as a soldier or some sort of associate within Ventin. It might prove useful to question her on it if I don’t get far with my own findings…” It would prove difficult, and Lanthane knew it, judging by that same frown playing on his lips as he thought about it. Admittedly, he was coming up dry with other ways to glean something useful out of either of these two. Nonetheless, he would continue with his interrogation, but if Vivian were to attempt to speak to Yoana…

Gerran​

There had been a silence from the two men after both Rafa and Gerran’s comments, and the latter didn’t press either of them to fill that silence. It was only a few hours after the death of what seemed to be an invaluable and irreplaceable companion. It was a feeling that many of those who fought alongside Gerran - and the man himself - had the unfortunate displeasure of dealing with.

And anyway, Locke was too busy indulging himself in the spread in front of him. He hardly had time to answer such comments. Mind you, his eyes were bigger than his currently swelling belly as he reached to loosen his trousers. Gerran observed quietly, believing he was just undoing his trousers to give him some space, but he hadn’t realised quite what it was leading to as he noticed Melody coming to the table. His attention was drawn to her then as she began to speak.

Only to be interrupted by the crudest, loudest prrp-ing. It had taken him entirely by surprise, judging by Gerran’s quick head-turn to the source of the noise...and finding half of Locke’s arse poised in the direction of Melody. It truly was a moment where time could stand still. He shuffled uneasily in his seat, and glanced towards Hiro, whose face had taken on the visage of snow. As if to add insult to injury, the unsuspecting Locke showed his lack of manners in the form of a burp. He felt a wave of secondhand embarrassment rise up in response to Hiro’s own embarrassment.

Gerran could do nothing more than avert his gaze to Locke’s later realisation and hold the mug to his lips (despite the mug having gone dry). He grimaced slightly at the smell that wafted in his direction, understanding his charge’s earlier complaint about it in the caravan. Admittedly, he could handle such noxious odours with his earlier days of ranching and farming, but the odour would be enough to make any poor passerby faint. He awkwardly looked beside him to Rafa, a mixture of concern for her wellbeing, and an eyebrow raise at Locke’s horrible attempts to make amends to the poor cook.

As if the situation couldn’t get any worse, in Locke’s attempts to keep her there to keep making amends, the poor woman’s skirts had come completely apart and into Locke’s hands, revealing the unmentionable behinds of the woman. Gerran would have snapped his eyes away in an instant, but Melody’s swift backleg kick, and Locke’s reeling from such an attack, kept his eyes poised on the entire incident. To say the very least, it was like a pantomime.

The knight was just glad Lan wasn’t there to revel in the sight of the poor woman’s embarrassment, or be thoroughly entertained by the antics of the mercenaries.

“So much for a quiet drink…” Gerran muttered more to himself than Rafa beside him, placing the mug down on the table as he listened to the panicking from Locke and the stern words of Hiro.

It was then that his attention was brought to the older man that had been sitting in the corner, demanding ale for the entire evening. Locke, understandably after the disaster that the last few minutes had brought, shouted at him. Still, the man didn’t deserve to be the victim of such irritability, even if he had been demanding all night, and responded to him.

“Forgive him. It’s been a...difficult day for him. For many of us,” he added.

 

[Arcanist]

Umeko Shiratori
Mentions: Rin ( FoldedPages )​

The Ronin stared at Rin as she spoke; she, too, paid no heed to the growing puddle of blood emerging from the fallen man. It was a case of two women sizing up one another, their focus on, and only on, one another. Though, Umeko seemed not to stir at Rin's initial changing of expressions, as still as stone, as if her body ceased to function at all. Not a rattle from her armour or a scraping on the ground.

But from that still as stone figure was an intense gaze, considering Rin, and all that she was. It might not have been obvious, given the helmet that masked her face, but it was there. She watched her tighten her grip on her lance, her eyes wandering to the treeline to the side of her. Umeko knew her archers lay in wait, holding their fire on their commands. She could so easily give the signal, end the impudent behaviour of the mage in a split second. But that was what she was expecting. It was what she wanted. Umeko, on the other hand, felt a tingling amongst the scars and scorch marks in her body, the calling of what some might have called a disease of the mind, but what she called, a strength. It wouldn't end with just the town's inhabitants bathed in blood and flame.

But she listened to her. The Samurai gave an ear to her proposal, her apparent eagerness to join her cause, the...unfortunate methods she had to adopt to reach the Ronin herself. There was a silent, tense air amongst the two; one that Rin would feel in her bones, no doubt. Umeko had not uttered a remark, hummed in thought, or so much as sighed. There was nothing to give away the musings she had on the men she had sent to block the way to the village. They wouldn't be so foolish to disobey her orders, nor deny the calling the Everlasting Flame had screamed so loudly for them. It was only after such thoughts, that Umeko's armour rattled.

"Do you think me a fool?" Umeko began, her voice low and harsh. The grip on her blade tightened with a newfound intensity, the sparks of a fire igniting inside her. "You wish to make a mockery of me, my followers, the flame?! You don't understand the true significance of the cleanse, of our work!" Her voice had risen now, sharp, intense, fully aflame. The blade of Umeko's katana was lifted from the ground, held across her chest, still smeared red. Her arms trembled, her grip wrung around the hilt of the katana as she continued. "I swore...I swore to rid filth from this land...clansmen or otherwise...!" Umeko had suddenly become victim to her own bloodlust, her breathing shaky, but her words heavy with intent. "I gave you your chance...now...now...I'll cleanse this filth myself!

Umeko's hand gripped the base of her katana - or, so it seemed at first, for it seemed to hover - and pulled her hand furiously across the blade. What soon followed her hand was a slick trail of flame, her blade fully alight. She didn't give much time for Rin to adapt to the sudden swell of light provided by the flame, and rushed forward with a yell, ready to slice at her new target.

 

[HeyItsBanana]

Mason Arembur
Interactions: InsaneAsylum ​

The darkness quickly closed in on Mason, much quicker than he had anticipated anyway, but the fairy's relentless speed was keeping him from being able to light the lantern that normally hung from his side. Thankfully, no doubt after noticing that the priest was quickly running out of steam, the purple fairy slowed just enough to inform him of her name. "Fia," Mason said to himself, her way of speaking was just as fast as her flying speed, all of her words tumbled out of her mouth like one immensely long and complicated saying, but in between his own gasps for air he was able to exude a response, "that's quite a good name if I do say so myself." He managed a small smile in between his breaths. "And I'm always open to more friends." He added as the luminescent Fia took to the path once more, albeit slower, causing Mason to start his trot once more. "This isn't how I thought my night would go," Mason pondered as he followed the purple glow, "first there was that father," he was incredibly thankful for the filling meal that the mother had prepared for him as thanks, but then his thoughts turned to the young lad that hadn't taken kindly to his arrival, "I wonder what it is that he had a problem with." There were many new questions that Mason would no doubt have the longer he continued this adventure, he silently hoped that this Sage could answer more than one of them, without simultaneously giving way to a multitude of others if it could be managed.

When he was stirred from his musings by a gruff, and vaguely female, voice, Mason realized that Fia had taken shelter in the collar of his robe. It was a strange sensation, much akin to the feeling of having a bug crawl upon an unknown area of your body. Almost forgetting to respond Mason said, "I'm looking for someone."

 

[Entity.Eclypse]

Inari, Dierdre, Thana, and Kaldr
Interactions/Mentions: InsaneAsylum Misuteeku FoldedPages Arcanist As yet another of the triplets ran off Thana could do little more than gaze towards them, each of their teammates had run headfirst into combat. It seemed that they all had a goal in mind... or at least most of them did. In spite of that, she was here, doing practically nothing for the group. As the waning in her heart began she felt her magic weaken somewhat, immediately followed by the shifting of the burned triplet. "Hold on a second, you can't just start moving witho-" She attempted to object as she met the gaze of their downed accomplice. The woman who she had been attempting to heal stared to her with a look that could only be described as void, it seemed hollow of any positivity. She moved slightly as the woman attempted to move from her spot on the ground, but reeled back when the woman continued to rattle on in irritation. It wasn't likely that she'd even be capable of fighting, let along guide a cart, in her current condition. The pain would probably be too severe.

Glancing around her, she noticed that Sheridan and one of their other female companions were handling a few of the nearby opponents. Definitely a reassuring sight, with that she stood to her feet. Only to be greeted once more by the floating blip of light, it reminded her of a glowfly of some kind. A glowfly with the capability to speak, and with an annoying voice at that. It didn't seem to wait for a response before starting to jet off. Kaldr took the opportunity to snap her jaws at the creature, not quite capturing the creature as she instead clamped down on the air beside it. Afterward turning back to Thana, who appeared to be moving towards the cart now. "Hang on a second, if you keep trying to do everything in your current state. You're just going to tear yourself apart!" Thana objected and climbed up onto the cart herself. At the very least.. they would have someone to help defend as she tried to coax the injured individual into letting her help. Or at least, that was the plan. It seemed that the little girl didn't like the unspoken plan, instead of charging off down the path at a child's pace. "At least let me drive the cart, otherwise you'll make your injuries worse."

Kaldr padded the ground anxiously, clearly distressed from the distance between herself and her master. With the wind blowing towards her, she could barely pick out his scent among that of the smoke. The smoke which hung thick in the air, threatening to choke those who breathed in its form. With that Kaldr moved around the back of the cart and leaped into it, her senses now acting as a sentry- staying alert for threats that would linger. Her ears twitched as she listened to the woodland around them, waiting for even the slightest...

Snapping. As an unseen projectile launched forward. The remnants of a talisman fizzled away as the projectile made its way towards its target, an archer who stood further away from his fellow marksmen. The projectile in question had been formed by the edge of Dierdre's blade, it's slender form held a potent sharpness to it. Whether or not the archer would react in time, or by some stroke of dumb luck, would determine if he suffered potentially fatal damage or not. She was masked by an outcropping of trees, the furthest from her had begun to burn- casting the area around her into...

Darkness.

The world had faded into an inky abyss of darkness, the unrelenting scent hung in the air. It was something truly acrid, a distantly sweet scent intermingled with the overwhelming metallic essence of the scent. Coughing in an attempt to clear his lungs, Inari pressed forward. The world around him seemed to swirl, his throat filling with a choking bitterness as screams rang out from every direction. Collapsing to his hands and knees, he received some form of freedom from the murky world above him- instead faced by orange-speckled wood. Hints of mahogany ruined by massive streaks of black. From the floor a heat rose, the walls seeming to sizzle in irritation. A hand pressed against his back, it's touch felt familiar. "Fuzen. Hey! Get up." Her voice. He would recognize that voice anywhere, twisting his head around he immediately caught eyes with hers. Two pools of gold gazed back at him, reflecting the flashing lightning of his own irises. Cocking her head, black hair shifted to the right as her eyes gazed at him in concern. "Fuzen? Why are you" the walls flashed a vibrant orange, the area around him sparking with flame as his world went pitch white. Upon opening his eyes again, he stared back at his ally. Her body remained in the same position, the smoke dissipating from around them.

"... looking at me like that?" As her mouth opened and closed once more, he caught a full glimpse of what he had been staring at. Her figure had ignited, the flames rapidly tearing through her. As the flames tore at her clothing, her body seemed to disappear along with it. Ash poured past him as he stared on in horror, she reached a hand towards him. Almost on instinct, he reached out towards her, as his hand reached hers- it was reduced to ash. A cloud of the dark gray powder tore past his vision, revealing the world around him once more.

Through the dense branches of the trees, Inari could now see the burning village before him. The familiar stench filled his nose and mouth, the choking stench of burning flesh. The flesh of burning humans. Looking down to his hand, which remained extended towards nothing, he noticed that he'd begun quivering. His breathing felt shallow as his heart ferociously slammed against his ribcage, he could feel the beating in every breath. His hold felt weak, and with that, he pressed back against the trunk of the tree. Holding himself to it feverishly. Reaching a quaking hand up to his neck, he could feel the perspiration laid thick. It was a cold sweat, not that of extensive training. Shakily he drew in the air once again, sucking it down in desperation of steadying himself. His chest throbbed, the pain seemed to radiate from within himself as he sat there. He swiftly did his best to check himself over, no wound to note.

Looking back to his hand, he sighed before releasing a breath he had unknowingly held. The shakiness had lessened to some degree, though it remained present. His lips parted for but a moment, his tongue twitching momentarily before being sealed off once more. He was a ninja... a silent shadow of the night. That in mind he continued forward, eventually maneuvering his way to the ground below, hiding against a modest-sized grouping of rocks... or perhaps it was rubble. It didn't matter, for now, he just needed to find an in... a flaw in their defenses, or perhaps a way he could establish an advantage for the others. The thumping in his chest had decreased a bit, his breathing remaining a tad ragged- but practically muted all the same.

That in mind, he cautiously watched the gluttonous one and the samurai. Perhaps they would esablish an opening for him?​

 

[InsaneAsylum]

Sarah Grivois

"It's quite a coincidence, don't you think?"

Sarah ran her finger along the edge of her tome as she she sat in her tent. A slight puff of air escaped her lips as she set the magical book on the table with mild annoyance. Her chair balanced precariously on its hind legs as Sarah leaned back. She slowly tapped her fingers against her cheek, one after another. A quiet hum escaped her lips, and her gaze focused on the tome before her.

Across from Sarah sat Marck, the commander of the original battalion of soldiers sent out to capture Nolan. Despite the Chicken Knights having arrived, Marck still held enough authority for Sarah to have to listen to what he had to say. He himself gazed intently at Sarah, wondering how such a young woman could possibly be allowed to handle all these troops. Marck knew she was an excellent mage, but skill didn’t equate to leadership.

"So, Marck was it? You saw that man's markings. They were all over his legs," Sarah said suddenly.

"I did. Obviously he's from Ventin. However we can't assume he's just some random refugee." Marck replied with a very serious tone.

"No doubt he's apart of a bigger group. No sane refugee would come right into our hands like that. Even with Yoana as our bait."

"Bait?"

"Oh, Goldelle didn't tell you the full story did she?"

"She didn't..."

Sarah groaned, and rubbed her temples. “Oh Goldelle... always so mysterious for no reason. In short, we are trying to lure out Queen Ragnan."

"T-the Queen of Ventin? How do you know she's even alive, even more so in Rivienne?"

"I don't know the details, but just know that she managed to not get killed during the Northern Catastrophe. Feurey isn’t tolerating refugees, and the church wants her alive. Goldelle will be incredibly upset if we send her back to her crystal. This is something we can't screw up. Make sure we have troops ready to go at any moment, and move the prisoner to the center of the camp. After you do that go get the nobles that wandered into the village. I have the perfect spell to handle a bunch of desperate refugees trying to get back their princess."

“Understood.”

—————

???

“How vague.”

The woman’s voice was closer now, but still out of sight. The curious healer may have noticed two dim red orbs staring at him from the darkness.

Two pairs of hands painfully grasped Mason’s arms from behind, and began to pull him forwards. They were a man and a woman, both with Northern style tattoos running from their face down their necks. They wore fur and leather armor, and had weapons at their sides. At first one might think these to be bandits, but a knowledgeable individual would recognize the markings as a staple of Ventin culture.

“You’ll have to come with us. Perhaps you’ll find who you are searching for,” the red eyed woman stated.

Mason would find himself led through the forest for only a few minutes before the base of a tower came into view between the trees. The woman that had confronted him was also in view now. She had long raven black hair, and wore and worn set of silver colored full armor.

The two people leading Mason finally loosened their grips, only to shove him forwards. Fia’s voice resounded in his mind again. “Be careful what you say! That’s the Queen of Ventin, Yasha Ragnan!”

As if on cue, Yasha turned to face Mason. “I can tell you are a healer by your garments. If you are not then I will kill you where you stand. Now, I’ve brought you here for one reason. My people are weary and wounded. Our own white magic practitioners cannot keep up with the demand. Assist them, or be slain.”

Yasha took slow steps towards Mason, her eyes boring holes into his chest. She reached out with one hand, and planted a finger on his chest above his heart. She slowly traced the outline of some sort of symbol, before withdrawing her hand.

“This marking will allow me to stop your heart whenever I wish,” Yasha stated plainly. “If tampered with, it will make your death far more painful.”

Yasha’s face had remained dull and void of any emotion of than a furrowed brow this entire time. However, she couldn’t help but crack a slight smile at her bluff. The marking had no effect in truth, but not a single soul had discovered that yet.

“If you do help us... we will ensure you return to your comrades safely."

If Mason accepted the offer, he'd be escorted by the same two individuals closer to the tower, and around to the other side. There he would find several cruddy tents hastily set up throughout a clearing. There were very few people out an about in the camp, but the ones that were close enough to see Mason in the moonlight would shoot him deathly glares. They too would possess markings, but not nearly as many as the two warriors beside him. Slowly but surely Mason was led through the moonlit camp until he was brought to about twenty men women and a couple kids lying on their backs. Some were being attended by heavily tattooed individuals weaving golden symbols around them. Most has physical wounds, some looking like slices from weapons, others like broken bones. A few wounds looked to be from some of animal. Only a select few of these wounded refugees was sick. These few possessed gnarly wounds that leaked a purple gooey substance. The veins near said wound were purple and enlarged. Healers were gathered around them trying to cure the sickness, but it seemed they were having no luck. Mason was free to begin helping whomever he wished, and perhaps try to gather information as well.

----------

The Sage

The sage smiled at the gluttonous noble, his cherry cheeks rose and his teeth shone. "Disappear you say? Then I shall!"

With a clap of his hands, and whistle form his lips, a bright blue light emanated from each of his finger tips. He raised his hands up to face, snapped, and disappeared in a flash of blue.

----------

Ley Ragnan

South-East Ventin

Five thousand refugees followed behind Ley. Most were from villages she and her family had come across on their way towards Feurey. Very few were from the North. The atmosphere among the enormous crowd as they slowly approached the Feurey border was one of great fear and worry. Feurey had never been kind to Ventin.

The land was becoming unfamiliar. The harsh cold, snow, and ice the Ventin people were accustomed to had now been replaced by a cool temperate breeze. The gray clouds above sprinkled rain down on them, adding to their discomfort and unease.

Ley wished she could comfort her people with wise and caring words as her father could have. Unfortunately, Ley didn’t quite have the tongue for such restorative speech. Her sister, Mey, could possibly be better at it. However, Ley had hardly spoken to any of her siblings during the journey. The one she had spoken to the least was the bastard, Flynn.

Ley shook her head, clearing the thoughts from her brain as she focused on the task at hand. She had already scouted ahead, and the only path forward was down through a grassy valley that headed straight into Feurey. The valley was relatively narrow, and would force the refugees to walk ten by ten. There were small patches of treesIt was horrific positioning if they were to be attacked. However it was the only path forward without going backwards. Ley’s rear scouts had yet to report any monsters catching up to them.

Ley approached Flynn as the first refugees stepped into the valley. “I want you to head to the rear. Make sure nothing happens to anyone back there. The rear scouts should be returning any minute now.” Ley didn’t wait long for his response, she simply assumed she’d do as she said. As she walked away she motioned Mey to follow her, as she went to take up the front.

The nobles weren’t the only fighters in the band of refugees. There were nearly a hundred other mercenaries and warriors all dedicated to protecting their people. Not only that, just about every healthy adult carried a weapon. They may not have been trained, but they were strong enough to fight back. The people of Ventin were famous for this, or better put, infamous.

As the nobles headed to their positions, they would no doubt feel the uncanny sensation that they were being watched by something sinister, making the hairs on their arms stand on end. The same sensation seemed to be felt by the refugees as well, as they glanced around nervously holding their partners and children in hand. But they had no other choice, going back the way they came would plant them closer to the inevitable wave of monsters. The only path was forward.

​

 

[The Black Knight]

Locke was scowling at the old man until he suddenly performed a trick and vanished before their eyes in a blue glare. His dark brows shot upwards in surprise as he thought, Wow. He actually did disappear. Suddenly, bursting through the kitchen’s swinging door was an angry, purple-headed chef. She had clenched in her hands, the handle of a cast iron pan that she charged at Locke with. The sell sword’s face instantly paled and he rolled onto his side, scrambling to his feet as he bolted away from her. The churning of the food in his stomach made Locke grimace as he swallowed down some chum that had threatened to surge up his esophagus.

“Yaaah! You disgusting pervert!” Melody cried. She chased Locke around a table and across the tavern. She had turned her apron to cover her backside and the irreparable damage to her work dress. “Do you have any idea how much this dress cost?! It took all of my money!”

“I’ll get you another one!” Locke shouted. “And it was an accident! I didn’t know it was made so cheap!”

“Cheap!? It wasn’t cheap!”

Beneath his helm, Hiro’s ears were flat against his head as he watched Melody and Locke run around the tavern like children. His ears then shot upwards when Locke made a bee-line toward him. He was panting heavily. Hiro stepped back cautiously when Locke reached out to grab his shoulders. “I…I…I can’t…” Locke panted. “I’m gonna hurl!”

Hiro grabbed his wrists to remove his hands. “Then by all means do not do so on me.”

“Yaaah!”

Locke moved around behind Hiro just as Melody swung her pan at his back. The kitsune’s eyes opened wide as he quickly stepped back, feeling the breeze of the pan as it descended before his face. Locke’s hands were at his back, using the monk as a barrier between him and the enraged chef. Hiro had to bob and weave a few swings until finally he grew fed up with Locke trying to use him as a shield. He surprised Locke when he suddenly twirled. He grasped Locke by the material of his tunic, stomped his foot between his feet, and threw him around toward Melody.

The loud ring of iron resonated throughout the tavern as Melody’s pan connected with Locke’s hard skull. The collision had vibrations travelling through her hands. The blow had startled her and her mouth fell open as she watched the mercenary stagger about in a daze. The entire room was spinning before his eyes, candlelight making vibrant rings, and chairs, people, and windows smudging like an oil painting. Locke tipped and collapsed upon the floor with a heavy thud. Hiro regretted having thrown Locke into the attack, but he wasn’t about to learn what an iron pan felt like when it was bashed against his skull. Gazing upon his bloated and unconscious form made the monk tired before he would have to put any work into moving him. He was hoping not to use the wheel barrow that night, but Locke was right. He would have to go fetch it.

Melody looked scared, which confused Hiro. “Oh no! Is he dead? I never killed anyone before!”

Hiro sighed. “No, but you whacked him pretty good. He’s going to have a splitting headache when he wakes up.”

“I was angry, but I didn’t mean it. I didn’t know I was swinging that hard!”

“You were swinging pretty hard. You almost hit me.”

“I’m sorry!”

“It’s all right,” Hiro replied. He then turned and started heading for the door. “I’m going to go fetch the wheel barrow,” he grumbled. He was starting to wish he and Locke had switched places, but then Melody would have probably continued to try and club Locke. It was destiny or perhaps his curse for following such a fool. He would have to wheel him around at the end of every merry night.

 

[Takumi98]

Vivian frowned softly as she listened to her sister speak about doing things her way, her green blue gaze landing on the Spy's shoulder as the rest of her sister's words became white noise for a moment. Her gaze went to her brother when he moved to face her then, her focus coming back in an instant as it zeroed in on the older sibling as she blinked at him once, then twice. She looked up at him as he asked her if she heard of who the prisoner was in the cart, before nodding slightly. Vivian bit her bottom lip a moment after, slightly unsure, before resolve shined in her eyes then.

"I could try to question her, brother." She spoke, though she hadn't interrogated anyone before, she was sure she could at least figure out if the captive Princess knew the man somehow, right? Besides, she knew Ashe would be nearby so she at least wouldn't be alone during the process. Besides, maybe Princess Yoana would talk to her if she wasn't threatened in any way?

"Yes, I'll do my best, and hopefully we won't have to resort to violence." She spoke with a nod, mostly to assure herself on the matter at hand. She could do it. Definitely.

Ashe didn't doubt his charge, but he couldn't help the small furrow of his brow as she seemed to be giving herself a small internal pep talk. Sometimes, he worried for her. It almost saddened him to a degree that any interaction with other nobles from the other kingdoms had to be with bars between them-but this was war and sometimes this is how things were going to be and all he had to do was keep her safe and happy as long as he could still draw breath and that was enough-that was how war time was and the only way to stop it was for it to end. Until then though, he'd be Vivian's shadow for as long as he's able to.

---

Rafa was halfway through her second roll when Locke decided to release the most disgusting smell the young woman ever had the misfortune of coming in proximity of while still at the table. Nose scrunching in disgust her eyes darted to Locke's direction just as he grabbed onto the back of Melody's dress.

The next few moments nearly made her choke on the piece of roll still in her mouth as she got an eye full of Melody's bare legs and-oh.

Oh.

Oh, wow.

Huh.

"Yeah." She replied dumbly to Gerran as she blinked.

Rafa felt her face grow warm from second hand embarrassment for the poor girl and from finding herself unable to look away from Melody's legs because, she had to admit, the girl had nice legs and Rafa probably would of been jealous if she was anyone else.

The horrid smell now forgotten, Rafa blinked once more when Melody was gone, train of thought broken by the Old Man from earlier as he was there and then gone himself. Something told her she should of snuck Vivian away from Ashe to bring her here, and now Vivian missed the chance to meet another magic user. She idly wondered if they'd believe her if she told them about it.

The pink haired cook was back and furious now. Letting the other get her anger out, and seeing as things seemed to settle at least slightly, once Locke wasn't digging himself a deeper hole, she stood and softly cleared her throat once she was sure she wasn't going to choke and die on any leftover roll. She glanced between Melody and Hiro for a moment.

"You can take the lug to the girl I was traveling with, if you wish, I'm sure Viv can patch him up so he at least won't have any headaches." She hummed, deciding not to mention the possibility of concussions. She didn't want Melody to start freaking out again.

"I could try to help you repair your dress or get a new one, since ah, I'm not all that good with thread and such." She offered to Melody then, since she felt bad. Unfortunately she was better at stabbing and stealing then needlework but hopefully she wouldn't have to worry about bad needlework?


Interactions: The Black Knight (Locke/Hiro) Arcanist (Lan/Gerran) InsaneAsylum (Sarah)

Mentioned: InsaneAsylum (Sage/Spy/Yoana)

 

[HeyItsBanana]

Interactions InsaneAsylum

The voice that responded to him was feminine to be sure, but it had a familiar air of sternness to it, like someone who knew they were in power and weren't afraid to use it. Memories of his first meeting with the Golden General caused him to shudder in fear, why would anybody as terrifying as that be out here in the middle of the woods, though he did not even have time to respond to anything as he was ambushed from behind. "Excuse me!" Mason managed to exclaim as they started to drag him deeper into the wood, they weren't being overly rough, but their grip was like iron. From the look on their faces, there was one man and one woman, they would not be letting go any time soon, defeated, the young man just let them drag him along. "As if I had any way to stop them." he thought, as he took this time to scan the faces of his captors. Their skin was decorated with a myriad of markings, similar to the tattoos that the more posh members of the Nobles of Rivienne would get placed on their body, at that notion he wondered if Lanthane had any of them. Mason couldn't put a finger on it, but something about them seemed to go beyond the superfluous reasoning that he was privy to, still he racked his brain for information that he thought should be there, something important about those markings, but as the toes of his boots were being dragged through the dirt, nothing came to him.

Suddenly the two captors, and their hopeless captive, broke into a clearing that had a tower looming in the center of it. He was being dragged toward a woman clad in a set of armor that, even more caused him to think of Goldelle, this woman's full silver armor was accented by her long flowing hair. It was as though she had a waterfall of ink flowing from her head, Mason had seen starless nights that would look as bright as day when compared to this woman's hair. More intimidating was her demeanor, she seethed absolute confidence, he could see that from the moment she came into his view. Still in awe, the poor lad was not braced for when his less than gentle escorts released their grip, causing him to land face first onto the ground, thankfully this area happened to be covered with a thick grass, sparing Mason's face from any damage. As he picked himself up, a familiar voice called to him, oddly enough, from inside his own head. It was Fia, she had warned him about watching what he said, this woman was Yasha Ragnan, the Queen of Ventin. Fear gripped Mason tightly, he was unable to speak as its maw closed around him, he could only nod when she mentioned him being a healer, but the moment she said there were injured in need something clicked inside of him, though he retained enough of his composure to not interrupt her.

It was gradual at first, Mason's change, but surely he became more confident. Once the Queen had said there were those in need of aid, every other worry that was plaguing him at that moment slowly began to face from his mind. He though about what kind of damage he would need to fix, how many would need him, would his personal supplies be enough, all of these questions and more were causing his frame of mind to shift into exactly where he was most comfortable. Despite being in such a dire situation, one would have assumed that Mason was a fearless warrior, as he had suddenly stopped shaking with fear, even when the imposing woman came directly to him, marking him with some symbol that he did not recognize, he did not flinch. Those who knew the man better would know that it was a different situation entirely, his body was well aware of the fear that he should be feeling, but his mind did not allow him to be afraid in this moment. While there was healing to be done, Mason did not have the time to be scared, a shaky hand could mean someone's life, he had to be in absolute control while someone needed his help. Upon stating that he would help, the same to guards from before, though they let him walk on his own this time, began leading him to the tower, but when they neared they instead led him around.

The view that greeted him was not a pleasant one, the ramshackle camp that had been set up could be defined only as lackluster at best. The rough tents were obviously hastily constructed with many of them not even attaining a minor semblance of level. This, however, was much more kind than the other greeting he was given. There weren't many people moving about this camp, but any who happened upon his direction looked as though they would rather cut him down where he stood than look at him a moment longer, luckily for Mason it seemed that they respected his forced entourage and everyone gave the three of them a wide berth. Thankfully they reached their destination before too long, but the sight that assaulted Mason when he entered the large makeshift medical tent made him wish that he had been taken captive hours, maybe even days, earlier. The moans of pain were the first things that he noticed, it was quite impossible to miss that, but the more intense sensation was that of the heavy metal smell in the air, there was a lot of blood being lost, there was no time to lose. For the first time in a long while, Mason removed his cloak revealing his simple white cloth shirt underneath, he was going to be here a while. Hanging it on his staff he set to work.

"You," he said, pointing to the male warrior that had guided him here, "bring me a large pot filled with water and start a fire just outside, I need plenty of boiling water, if you have anyone that can do magic to make it quicker then that would be best." The silence between them was deafening as it seemed he would refuse to do this task, when suddenly Mason grew more firm, he didnt have time for this. "Do you want your people to die?!" It came out as more of a command than even he thought would be possible, but this did not stop him from pressing further, "Neither they nor I have time for your foolish pride! You," Mason turned to the female now, "I need scraps of cloth about this long and this wide." He held up his hands to depict the size as accurately as possible. With a nod she left, the man glaring at him for a moment before doing the same, but Mason had already turned away toward his patients, making eye contact with people who he was just now realizing were there. At a glance it seemed that they were healers of some sort, though they were also the first to show a small amount of respect to him, it seemed that they could sense that he was also someone dedicated to helping others, Mason shared an unspoken connection with those unknown healers at that moment, and it was all the permission that he needed as he started examining the wounded.

As he deduced each persons wound he spoke aloud, allowing him to formulate the proper order for everything that he needed to do. "You have a broken bone," he would say to each person that suffered such a minor wound in comparison, "I'm sorry, but I need to take care of those who are in more immediate danger." Though he made one exception for a child who had a minor greenstick fracture, instead of moving on he rushed back and grabbed his tome of magic, taking care of this would be a trivial matter. "This won't hurt a bit," Mason said to the child, mustering a warm smile as he spoke, "I promise." With a sheepish nod the child held still while the cleric read a passage, light flowing down his arm into the child's leg. The child closed her eyes in anticipation of pain, but it never came, slowly the light died away and, miraculously, the pain with it. Cautiously the little girl stood, putting as little weight as she could on her previously injured leg as she could manage, though she quickly found out that her leg had been completely healed. As if on instinct she wrapped her arms around Mason in a tight hug, completely lost in shock, he lifted one hand up and patted her on the back as tears started to flow freely from her eyes. He held the child that was unknown to him in his arms and shushed her gently, lifting her as he stood up. Using his thumb to wipe away the streams now forming on her face, he spoke once more, "Don't worry little one, I'll fix everyone up good as new." He truly did not know if she could even understand what he was saying, but none of that mattered to the white mage. "Let's turn those into tears of joy." Mason said as he placed her back on the ground and motioned for her to leave the tent. With a contented sigh, he watched her go, steeling himself for the long night that he had ahead of him.

A few minutes passed as Mason assessed the rest of the wounded, most of the injuries were well within his skill, though some of the lacerations were quite deep, he was confident that none of them were fatal while he was present. This was until he reached a particular wound that he had never seen before, coincidentally this seemed to be where the other healers were congregated. The wounds themselves were something awful, the flesh in the area was leaking a horrific purple sludge. The veins too seemed to be clogged with whatever substance it was as they were all enlarged at the site of the damage, if this was poison Mason knew that he would not be capable of fixing it with magic, he hoped that another method, though more painful and risky, would at least increase their chances of survival. It was at this moment that he was tapped on the shoulder, the warrior woman had returned not only with armloads of cloth, but with a familiar little face in tow, one who was carrying her, albeit smaller, own load of cloth strips. He couldn't help the smile that spread across his face as he looked to the flap through he had entered, though the face that greeted him looked more than annoyed, he could see that the requests that he made had been completed fully and swiftly. Now, it was time for Mason to work.

Minutes turned to hours as he performed his duties. It was not long before his own clothing became stained with the blood of the injured, but Mason pressed on. Clean the cloth strips in the boiling water, use the use the strips to wash the damaged areas as best as he could, then finally use his magic to close the wound or heal the broken bone. The work was exhausting to say the least, every cast sapping more and more of Mason's energy, he collapsed to the ground more than once, but he would not give up. "You can die after you've saved them." He told himself, "You don't have time to waste." His energy waned with every cast, but his willpower surged with every face that finally had its pain wash away. Before starting to work on his own, knowing he was likely to collapse before even healing all of the normal wounds completely, he shared his plan for the grotesque purple wounds with the other healers. Gently, after clearing all of the gunk from the exterior portion of the wounds, the bulbous veins would have an incision cut into them just large enough to drain the thick fluid from the inside of them. He made sure to have the cloths used to clean these wounds discarded separately, not wanting to risk a spreading of a potential disease. It was difficult for Mason to not perform the work himself, instead he had to place faith in the others, and that his guess could at least aid the wounded in some way. Unknown to him, the shamans had looked to him on more than one occasion, even shaking their heads at the stubbornness he displayed every time he stood back up.

"And that," Mason gasped as the edges of his vision began to fade inward, "Is it." The last of his light flowed into the wound, slowly knitting the flesh back together. "Take that Queenie." between the burning of his lungs, and the sweat that poured out of his body, the young man realized that he had completely lost his vision, blinking caused no change in what he could see, even sounds were beginning to become distorted as he felt his consciousness leaving him for possibly the last time. "I hope I was more useful this time," he felt the tears coming from his sightless eyes, closing them as they ran down his cheeks, "Shaia." The world spun and the floor that he could not see, rose to meet him quickly.

 

[Arcanist]

Lanthane
Mentions: Locke/Hiro ( The Black Knight ), 'Spy' ( InsaneAsylum ), Vivian/Rafa ( Takumi98 )​

Lanthane watched Vivian biting her lip, a clear sign of her budding hesitance. Her being rudely awakened to the sound of screams was stressful enough, but maybe asking her to take on questioning as well was too much. He opened his mouth, about to retract his suggestion, until he heard a resolve come from her lips. She seemed hopefuly that she could do it, that violence wouldn't become an option...Lanthane wasn't so sure it remain out of the picture. But he nodded, managing a smile. "Okay. Good. That's good."

Leaving Vivian to do her piece and with Ashe stepping in her shadow, he turned back to the man. Steeling himself to do his part once again, Lanthane approached him once more. Though, he found himself overthinking the process and what direction he would go down next in this interrogation. Would he have to be firmer with him? Outright threaten him? Begging surely wasn't an option in an interrogation. Gods, what he could have learnt if he didn't spend so much time throwing random concotions together and pursuing ladies and their skirts. He was sure his tutors would look on and pity him, perhaps smirk at how right they were when they told him what they were teaching was fundamental.

Lanthane halted in front of the man. He didn't strain his back to bend over and get closer to him, nor did he take the time to sit across from him. He stared at him, firmly for a moment, abusing that moment to gather his thoughts and his words, before he finally spoke. "I already told you once, but my sister rarely makes false promises. I'm sure that hole she burned into your shoulder was excrutiating, but if I were you, I wouldn't be willing to risk being fried alive by her." His warning was frank, clear; whether the apparent spy wanted to heed that warning was another thing. Though the relationship between Lan and Sarah (or at least, as of late) was as cold as the bone-chilling temperatures further north, he knew his sister had a fondness for practicising her magic on some...unwilling subjects. Animals, thankfully, as far as he's heard, but that wasn't to say it would develop to burning alive other humans. The thought made the hairs stand erect on the back of his neck. He forced away that feeling of uneasiness as he continued.

"I know you're from Ventin. I recognise the markings on your legs," Lanthane pointed out. "It's not surprising that you would be this far down in Rivienne, after what happened..." He murmured as he gazed to the horizon ahead, thoughtful. He didn't wish to plague himself with the thought of what happened. A meeting to propose and sign for peace. Instead of ink being spilled, no doubt blood was splattered against the snow instead, and by whatever monsters had gathered up north. He glanced back to the man. "With one Ventin refugee wandering into our camp here, I can imagine there's a group of refugees not too far away. Though, why a refugee wouldn't stay away..." He mused, pursing his lips for a moment. "Perhaps you didn't just come to find our prisoner. Whoever is leading your band of ruffians sent you to scout out how many of us there are, the layout of our camp, hm?"

Gerran​

The balding man had taken to Locke's words...rather literally. A blue aura had radiated around his fingertips after clapping his hands together, and before Gerran could begin to comprehend such a feat, the man snapped his fingers. Within an instant, the chair he nestled himself in became vacant, and the man was nowhere to be seen.

Gerran stared at table littered with empty mugs, blinking as his mind dazedly made an attempt to catch up with what had happened in real time. Was the alcohol having such a profound effect on him that he was hallucinating? He was unsure. A quick look around his fellow companions - and noting Locke's brows wiggling upwards - he deduced that he wasn't just victim to tricks of the mind. Though, the knight was doubtful Locke's word could be trusted. He had gotten a headstart on the drinking, and with his behaviour and unfortunate mishap with the cook's dress, it was clear he was quite inebriated.

Speaking of which, Melody had arrived back out onto the floor again, armed with a pot, and a face as blazing hot as Rivienne's sun. Seeing her glare directed towards Locke, he found himself rising from his chair. "Now, madam, let's not be--" But no sooner than the words came from his lips did a wild Ballistic Chicken chase break out. His head swerved back and forth as he watched Melody pursue Locke with the pot in hand, swinging it wildly like a Ventin Barbarian. It wasn't a great comparison at all; he had heard stories of Barbarians knocking their enemy's head clean off their shoulders. Gerran grimaced at the image of Locke's head rolling along the floor after a whack from Melody. With that, he had raised his voice, trying to get them to cease.

"Miss, please, what happened was unfortunate, but surely--!" It was no use. Even he couldn't be heard amongst the screeches of Melody, Locke's complaints that he was going to throw up the entire spread he feasted upon so ravenously, and the hollerings and whoopings from the surrounding tavern patrons. Chaos wasn't even a word to begin to describe the events taking place this night.

Finally, finally, the curtains to this pantomine finally seemed to close, for after watching Hiro bob to the left, to the right, duck to the bottom and all around to avoid Melody's cursed weapon, Locke was finally struck with it. Gerran felt his stomach lurch at the disgusting imagining of Locke's head coming off, though, thankfully, such a kitchen utensil wasn't sharp enough, nor was Melody quite strong enough, to make that a reality. The whack against Locke's head was met with a resounding "Oh!" from the patrons. Once Locke had collapsed to the ground, there was a thunderous wave of applause and laughter. It truly was as if these two were the source of a good night's entertainment.

Gerran, however, felt otherwise on the matter. He took wide, brisk steps towards the unconscious Locke, whilst Melody began to panic over possibily committing a murder. Gerran leaned down beside Locke, his eyes locked onto him with a serious gaze of appraisal. He hadn't the hands nor the eyes of a healer...but he could tell that Melody's weapon of choice would leave a purple, throbbing bruise on Locke's head, and a headache to rival a hangover, on Hiro's similar observation. Perhaps hiring Melody was a reasonable idea on Locke's part. Who knew this was the damage a cast iron pot would inflict?

Gerran rose to his feet, watching as Hiro grumbled about grabbing a wheelbarrow, no doubt to cart Locke away and dump him onto some sort of bedding. The thought of laying his head down on some sort of pillow filled him with longing.

"I think that's enough for one evening..." He murmured, turning to the other two women that still remained inside. "I'll head back to camp. Though, you're both welcome to walk back with me, if either of you wish."

 

[InsaneAsylum]

Saishoa​

They had already begun. The ronin and Rin had already confronted each other by the time Saishoa caught sight of the two. She has hoped to catch up to the spear woman and warn her of what she was to face, and that it would be impossible to do alone. The stories she’d heard of this group and their ruthless leader were nothing short of horrifying. But even still, were they insane enough to destroy this random little village with war on the horizon?

Saishoa could hear Umeko begin speaking with more vigor, her voice becoming angrier and angrier. Only a moment later her blade was alight with flames, the blade itself glowing an infernal orange. Saishoa sprung forward despite being struck with fear. No one survived Umeko’s first strike

“Get out of the way!” Saishoa screamed, slamming her own body into Rin’s, sending the spear woman tumbling to the dirt a short distance away.

Umeko’s blade felt no resistance slicing cleanly through Saishoa and her katana. The eldest sister fell in two, her too half falling backwards and her bottom half crumpling beneath itself.

An ear piercing screech erupted from the village gate. Standing there, two blades in hand, was Daini. Her eyes were as wide as the sun, reflecting the burning flames all around her. Her arms shook, barely keeping her grip on her blades. The color was drained from her soft youthful face. Daini couldn’t tear her eyes away from her Saishoa. All she could do is stare, as tears began to stream down her face.

“I-I-I-I... this isn’t supposed to h-happen!”

 

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[div class=Heading][div class=header]Rin, Hiroaki, & Kaiyo[/div][/div]

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Seeing the fiend Sheridan had conjured traveling straight for her, Kaiyo braced for impact. However, when a moment passed, and her skin was still intact, her eyes reopened to the sight of the monstrosity chained. Curious, the ninja advanced towards it, but Sheridan's voice reminding her they were needed stopped her footing, and she nodded steadfast at the girl, following close behind. Soon into their dash, it was evident to Kaiyo that the girl was not suited for fleeting travels. "Sorry, but we need to hurry," was all she offered before she plucked Sheridan and tossed her over her shoulder like a sack of flour. No longer hindered, Kaiyo's pace increased immeasurably, and the two were deftly dodging branches and roots as they neared the burning village. Rotting flesh and burnt wood singed the ninja's nostrils, and she scrunched her nose at the noxious odor. "You better not be dead," she thought, her brows furrowed at the thought of her sister, or even Hiro, having been slain.

Just before they reached the thinning foliage, Kaiyo halted, releasing Sheridan. "I need to use the trees, but stay close by," she insisted, and once she was sure Sheridan understood, used her strength to climb into the nearest tree. From then on, she would cautiously approach where the growth ended, and the village began, eyeing Sheridan all the while. Kaiyo eventually settled on a branch tucked far enough to be concealed, but close enough to watch the events unfolding. Inari ended behind rubble, and she noted Hiro's body heading towards another entrance of the village. However, what truly grabbed her attention was her thick-witted sister confronting a samurai, undoubtedly the cause of the destruction behind them. The ninja nearly gave her position away when Umeko ignited her katana, charging at Rin. But, with her senses coming back, she paused and gritted her teeth. As a ninja, she was useless on the frontlines. What happened next, however, took her breath away.

Rin had failed to sense Saishoa approach, too fixated on her charging opponent. The impact left her breathless, her body sliding along the dirt road with her spear clutched tightly in her palms. She sat up, the world around her a groggy haze. Saishoa's slaughter caught her by surprise, the upper half splitting from the bottom agonizingly slow as the world around Rin lagged. Behind her, bits and pieces of Hiro's voice entered her consciousness, finally returning her senses. Seizing the opportunity, Rin transferred her spear to one hand, the other instantly grasping behind her to bring forth a magical seal. With no time to waste, Rin began to chant a spell.

Hiro, having changed course to aid Rin, unsheathed his blades and stood protectively in front of her. Kaiyo, noticing the archers, produced her river cane blowpipe. After loading it with poisonous darts, she would effectively aim them for the archer's carotid artery. If hit, the poison would travel immediately to the brain, efficiently killing them. With Hiro protecting her, Rin neared the end of her spell, secured the seal on her spear, jumping to her feet in one fluid motion.

"Move, Hiroaki!"

Doing as he was instructed, Hiro moved to the side, giving Rin a clear shot. Using her spear as a conduit for her lightning magic, she pointed the weapon directly at Umeko, a burst of multiple fatal silver and violet bolts heading for the samurai. Rin hoped the armor she bore would be turned against her, knowing metal was an excellent conductor for electricity.

Interations: InsaneAsylum Misuteeku Arcanist | Mentions: Entity.Eclypse
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[Arcanist]

Umeko Shiratori
Mentions: Rin/Hiro/Kaiyo ( FoldedPages ), Both halves of Saishoa/Daini( InsaneAsylum )​

The frenzied Ronin's eyes were so focused on Rin, that she hadn't caught sight of what was rushing to Rin's aid. Even with her eyes focused straight ahead, she didn't register the change of target in front of her. Her blade had sought Rin's flesh, and Umeko believed it had found it, even as it sliced through the body in front of her. The cut was smooth, like slicing through salami, what with the heat hissing from her katana. It brought Umeko great satisfaction, judging by the exhale she had let slip from her lips soon after the slice had been made. She stood with her katana raised up, her knee slightly bent, in the same final pose for a few moments after the execution.

Umeko's gaze turned to the sound of blood-burning shriek. Her head twisted around, much like an owl's but with the obvious limitations a Ronin's armour and the human body had, noting the horror claiming a wide-eyed girl. She struggled to recognise her. She thought they had cleansed every last villager. There were always ones who wriggled away, buried themselves under rubble, or played dead. Umeko brought her gaze back to the decapitated body, steam rising from the hot incision made on her body, and blinked.

The attire was different from what she remembered; bulkier and heavier, darker in appearance. Even as Umeko's eyes hovered over the upperhalf of the body, she noticed the face wasn't shrouded in a mask, the hair dark and cropped. She hadn't noticed Saishoa barrelling into Rin - who was reeling a short distance away from the sudden tackle - and sacrificing herself. Yet, Umeko hadn't flinched at the thought of killing another other than her original target. She grunted, pulling herself back into a straight posture.

"Foolish girl..." She muttered, shaking her head at the sorry sight steaming on the ground. "Perhaps the fire decided you needed cleansed first..." Umeko reasoned, tilting her head, not believing it was simply a matter of luck on the side of Rin that Saishoa appeared. Oh well. One less pest to deal with. She just had all the other vermin to exterminate before she could move on. Though, she found they were joined by yet another, judging by his attire, another filthy clansmen wanting to make her task difficult. Her gauntlet chinkled as her grip on the katana grew stronger. "Impotent...rats...!"

Before she could find herself charging forward, Umeko turned her gaze towards the shout of a command, only, to be accosted by a flurry of silver and violet bolts. Without much time to move out of the way of them, they charged into, and flashed through, every part of her armour. All up her arms and legs, across her chest, her bones jolted and burned with the sensation of the hot lightning bouncing through her body. Indeed, it should have been enough to send her to the ground, and it almost did. But there was something almost defiant in her as she still stood, growling and screaming at the pain that seized her body. She should have made a move to strip herself of her armour, and yet, she never did. Instead, even as the lightning still conducted itself throughout her body, she gave a triumpant, defiant scream.

"I-I'll...ki...kill...!" Umeko's sentence was left unfinished, as a guttural cry sounded as she charged towards Rin again, sword still blazing just as hot.

The sound of their Ronin's mixed cries of agony and determination roused an Onmyoji into action. Seeing the appearance of more people - and those who could hold themselves in battle, no doubt - had caused the mage part of Umeko's entourage to take action. Appearing from the forestry nearby the village, though, making herself vulnerable by being out in the open, she crafted her own seal, a burning orange circle with strange lines cutting through it at all angles. Once she felt the power coarse through her veins, a single firebolt - though it looked small, burned intensly - and she sent it towards one of the dirty clansmen's backups - in this case, Hiroaki, not so long after Umeko charged towards her target.

As for one of the archers in the road of Kaiyo's travelling dart, he didn't fare so well. It got caught in the neck of a male archer, right in the carotid artery, whose hand reached for it as if to grab at a fly. His eyes widened, realising what the dart was, and before he knew it, his eyes had rolled back, and he dropped from the branch of a tree, his body convulsing for a brief moment, before it went limp. This, of course, alerted the other archers to a dart-wielding maniac on the loose, and they prompted themselves to take as much cover as they could. In the meanwhile, they could only try to figure out where the darts were being fired from before they made any sort of move.

 

[The Black Knight]

Melody had lowered the frying pan. Her hands were folded over its handle as she stared pathetically at Rafa, tear beads at the corners of her eyes. She blinked them free, the warm tears tumbling down her creamy cheeks as she slowly shook her amethyst head. "Thank you. I suppose it was cheap after all…"

Her eyes shifted to Gerran when he mentioned heading back to camp. Her cheeks glowed and her cuffed hand rose to her chest. "Uh-um, I have to stay here and prepare to close."

The sudden opening of the tavern door and the vibrations of a wheelbarrow crossing the floorboards signaled Hiro's return. "That won't be necessary. This bloated slob (Locke) would like for you to join our party."

Melody looked from Hiro and then down at the floor to Locke. A shadow of dread fell over her face that made a sweat drop descend down the back of Hiro's head. "I take that as a 'no.'"

"Ugh," Locke groaned. His forearm rose dramatically to cover his eyes. "My head...it feels like it's splitting...where am I? What happened?"

Melody dropped to her knees next to him out of guilt. "I'm sorry! I-"

Locke gave Melody one look and recoiled from her in fright. "Ah! Don't hit me! Assailant! Killer!"

Hiro gave Locke his iconic narrowed eye stare. Who was the proverbial fox? He was such a weasel…and yet Hiro found himself mentally taking notes.

Melody set the pan aside and attempted to console him with a touch to his shoulder, "No please-"

Locke recoiled again. "Don't touch me! I nearly lost my memory, you fiend!"

Melody started crying again. Her hands went to her eyes as she wept, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! It was an accident!"

"An accident? You chased me around the room and brained me, you maniac!"

"I will make it up to you! I promise!"

Locke sat up with an exaggerated groan. "Promise? Pinky promise?" He held up his pinky with a stern expression.

Melody stared at it and started to feel uncertain. "Uh, well, uh…"

Locke continued to stare at her and she eventually broke under the pressure looping her pinky around his. As soon as their pinkies locked, the most unsettling look twisted the sell sword's lips. Hiro thought at that moment, Deal with the Devil…



A large travel pack full of every kitchenware she could--she wanted to believe she was borrowing the wares, but it was clearly stealing--stuff into her sack was on her back, clinking to her every step. Melody hung her head in shame. First, an attempted murder and now, a thief. Locke was behind her being wheeled along by Hiro as he enjoyed a mug of beer that he decided to take with him. They had followed Gerran and Rafa back toward the camp.

"Chandler is going to be so upset," she muttered.

Locke held up his mug and cheered, "He's not your boss anymore! I am!"

Hiro then realized he was wheeling a conscious Locke around and muttered to himself, "What am I doing?..."

He immediately dumped the wheelbarrow on its side, causing the sellsword to go spilling out across the ground. Locke rose to his hands and knees and glared at the monk's back. "Hey! You made me spill my beer!"

Hiro ignored him, and he walked ahead until he was walking at Melody's pace. "Could I assist you with your pack?"

Melody kept her eyes downcast on the ground. "I got it," she muttered like a depressed child.

He was playing you… Hiro wanted to tell her, but he didn't want to ruin Locke's plan. They could use another teammate. She may not have been offensive, but her culinary skills would surely keep them strong and healthy on their journey.

"We're a team now. Please, let me help," he offered again.

Melody looked up at Hiro and then stopped to set down the heavy pack. "Be careful. It's heavy," she warned.

The monk lifted it with ease, causing Melody's eyes to glimmer in awe at his strength. Locke walked up behind her and looped an arm about her shoulders. Melody's legs nearly buckled under his weight as she staggered. Locke was taking another swig of the beer when he merrily turned his head toward her and reassured, "You're going to love hanging with us. We travel and make lots of money!"

Melody clapped her hands over her nose. His breath was hot with alcohol and other things she felt wetly sprinkling her cheek. His armpits had a strong musk as well. When was the last time he bathed? Hiro reached over and slapped the back of Locke's head.

"Let go of her. You stink," he ordered.

Locke glared at Hiro for a second and unlooped his arm from about her shoulders. "You stink!"

"I'm sure I do. We haven't had a chance to bathe. We can't waste the water."

Melody's eyes lit up with an idea as she dropped a fist into her palm. She looked at Hiro and suggested, "I can make soap bars for your team. How would you like that?"

Locke abruptly stopped as though kicked in the face when she called their party "Hiro's team." Did she think Hiro was the leader?! Hiro felt a heat against the side of his face as though the sun was scowling at him. Melody didn't see it, but there was an ugly scowl on Locke's face as he trailed behind them.

"I am sure we would appreciate your kind gesture. Locke is the leader of this group, however," Hiro replied to her and immediately felt the heat lift off his face.

Melody gave Locke a half-lidded expression over her shoulder. She wouldn't call Hiro a liar since so far he had been a gentleman, but she found it unbelievable nonetheless. Locke raised his beer again in cheers and she looked at Hiro as she asked, "And why is he the leader? I think you should be the leader Hiro."

Locke felt his grip tighten on his mug. He downed the rest of its contents and marched up to her. He pointed a thumb at himself and declared, "Because I'm the brains! 'Not saying Hiro isn't smart. I run this show girlie."

Melody sighed. "I just wish Hiro was the leader is all…"

Locke's right eye was twitching and Hiro attempted to put the discussion to rest: "Thank you Melody. I hope that we can all grow accustomed to each other's synergy."

Locke forced a large grin and spoke through it, "Yesh, Melody. Welcome to dee team." The corners of his mouth were twitching.

 

[Misuteeku]

Sheridan Sasaki​

While being picked up was a surprise by the glutton's ninja sister, she didn't mind being carried like a sack of flour. It was easier and faster this way rather than having a nine year old kid, with low stamina, run all the way to the village. She was not prepared for the seemingly instantaneous teleportation. Everything looked like a blur and then she found herself being put down onto the ground by Kaiyo. Her summoned demon followed close by herself as it thrashed against its chains. It took a second for her to respond as her vision started to settle. "Understood, I'll be careful." Sheridan nodded to Kaiyo. With Kaiyo disappearing within the trees, Sheridan made sure to sneakily go towards the village at the pace Kaiyo wanted her too.

"Attack." With that single command, the demon bolted towards the flaming village. Some poor soldier would most likely be bisected and devoured by the beast, but it was the least of Sheridan's concerns. Now, she would be able to sneak without a flailing shrimp like creature right next to her. That left her with her other two controlled companions. The puppet dog was irresponsive, memories that she had bestowed upon it returned to her. She frowned as she remembered. "Haruto..." The big brown dog that had played with her when since she was young. Running, wrestling, and petting. Those faint memories were her only times of happiness prior to her memories with her mentor. Haruto was her only one and true companion, but then he too left, taken away after a boy wanted to adopt the brown dog.

Sheridan snapped out of her nostalgia. Now wasn't the time to remember the past. There was only active puppet left in her disposable, the bird that she had created at the beginning of this journey. With her magic, she look through the owl's wooden eyes and observed the surroundings as she sneakily made her way to the village. The soldiers were mainly distracted by the villagers as well as the recent appearance of Rin and Hiroaki. The bird's gaze locked on to the Omnyoji that had recently appeared. The Omnyoji seemed to be casting a spell. Not wanting for Hiroaki and Rin to be taken surprise by the new arrival, she made her choice.

"Intercept the attack." With that command, the bird dove down and descended at a quicken rate towards the Omnyoji's line of fire. Taking out her seals, she began channeling a curse. Her seals let out a dark glow as the swirled around her. Her target was within her bird's sight meaning that she could pint point where she would cast her spell. While it might be inaccurate, it was still a good chance for the curse to hit. "Let the life within your veins burn and reject your right of life." Sheridan muttered as she began the curse. "Writhe in agony and suffer for your incompetence, Mana Burn!" With that she let out her curse. If it were to hit, then the Omnyoji would most likely be unable to use magic for a short time while her veins were aflame. Her bird would most likely be destroyed as well, but she could always spend time making another one.

InsaneAsylum Misuteeku FoldedPages Arcanist

 

[Takumi98]

Rafa simply offered Melody a smile before gently patting her shoulder.

" "Cheep" or not, I think you made the it look good, in all honesty." She tried to comfort the other, her brows drawing in light concern. It didn't do well to have someone cry, especially a cute girl who didn't mean much harm.

She'd then watch as Locke woke and practically guilt tripped Melody into joining his small circus, the former Thief felt bad for Melody in that instant, by she also considered the idea of having more of a chance to get to know the aspiring cook if Locke and Hiro stayed with her and her traveling companions a little longer.

Rafa chuckled during the walk back, watching as Hiro dumped Locke onto the ground and gently shook her head, amused by for the time being.

"One would think Hiro was the leader right off the bat, wouldn't they?" She asked no one in particular, mostly teasing the sellsword good-naturedly for the most part.


Meanwhile, Vivian had stood in front of where Princess Yoana was held, appearing calm despite the slight nervousness she felt.

"I hear you're Princess Yoana." She spoke up, green-blue gaze alight with slight curiosity and some emotion not even Ashe would be able to determine.

She didn't know if the other would answer or say anything, what methods the knights and Sarah may have tried, but Vivian would do what she could with little to no bloodshed.

"I'm sure that if you were sleeping you were woken up by the commotion earlier, and I'm sorry for that, no one should wake up that way. There's a man over there, one with markings on his legs...I doubt you'd tell me anything about that man, if you know it, but right now things aren't looking good for him." She made a subtle motion to where Lanthane was. She...she wasn't sure if she was doing well, she didn't think it'd be easy, no, but if Yoana remained silent the whole time it'd be a waste of time.

"My sister, she can be scary when she chooses to be...I think you've met her, so I'm sure you know. I'm also sorry about her, too." Her tone was quieter, almost solemn. She felt something, not pity, but something else under the surface that wanted to be shown.

She gently trailed her fingers along the edge of her tome in thought, a small frown coming to her face as she looked the Ventin princess in the eye.

"He'll die if my sister gets to him, you know. I'd rather not have that happen." It was said softly, matter-of-factly, yet held a weight and hardness to it that made her--to Ashe, at least--seem slightly older.

Ashe was only a few steps away from Vivian, keeping a watch, while also being ready to be put in the ring if Vivian timos he should try to talk to the Ventin Noble.

Mentioned: The Black Knight (Locke/Hiro/Melody) InsaneAsylum (Sarah/Spy) Arcanist (Lan/Gerran)

Interactions: InsaneAsylum (Yoana)

 

[InsaneAsylum]

Yasha's cold armored hand grasped the back of Mason's neck, pulling his unconscious body up to his feet. She held him there, staring at him for several moments. Others turned to glance at the queen as she looked over the white mage. Everyone in the tent visibly tensed, thinking that Mason's time there was over. They assumed he'd be killed now that he had discharged all of his usefulness. It was difficult to tell how the queen felt. Her expression never changed much beyond

Yasha ran her tongue along her bottom lip.

"I suppose you have earned some rest. Your efforts will not be forgotten mage." Yasha spoke quietly, as an exhale escaped many a soul in the room as they realized the queen meant no harm despite her steeled face. She moved to place him down on the ground, more gently than she had picked him up. However, she noticed a dim purple light peering from the inside of his clothes. Her brows quickly furrowed, and she shot her hand towards the light, grabbing at it. A high pitched squeal let Yasha know she had in fact found something. She pulled the thin glowing object from Mason's cloth, and help it up in front of her. In the light she could make out the tiny form a... person!

"Are you... a fairy?" Yasha asked accusingly.

Fia struggled to escape Yasha's firm grasp. "Obviously! Lemme go now will ya? I gotta get back to Rivienne!"

"You work for Rivienne? Do they know your location?"

"Yup! Why do ya think I was in his shirt? Not cus he smells goo-" Fia's voice abruptly cut off as the queen clenched her fist as tightly as she could, crushing the little purple fairy in her grasp.

"Damnit... it seems I've made a mistake..." Yasha grumbled as she turned, Mason's neck still in hand, and walked out of the tent. She walked several feet away, and tossed his limp body at a tree. She bent down in front of him and lifted his face to face hers. "Wake up," she would command, before slapping him across the face with her armored hand. She'd repeat this over and over until he awakened.

Usually magic users who expelled all of their magic woke up after enough trauma, Yasha knew that. However she didn't want to harm the mage too badly after he helped her people. However he may have sentenced them to death regardless if he had somehow given Rivienne her location. The queen had to wake him up, and get answers out of him. And from her experience, Mason would be an easy nut to crack.

--------------------

The spy stared down at the ground, his breathing still heavy. His eyes darted back and forth, scanning the ground in desperation as his mind wandered.

"There are five of us," The spy mumbled. "My family and I. We are fleeing from the North. You already know why. I went on ahead to make sure everything was safe," he took a deep breath and stretched his neck back and forth. "I recognized the markings on your prisoner, and hoped to get a closer look, identify her, maybe even free her. Do you realize who you have captured here?"

—————

The pained face of the captive princess turned towards Vivian. Yoana’s dull eyes rested on the small woman as she listened to her words. Even with silence, the dull eyes gazed solemnly at Vivian, as if seeing she had no care for anything said. However, before long she responded. Her back straightened, but she coughed haggardly.

“It matter not what we say to you all. It will never be enough,” Yoana began slowly. She rose to her knees, now kneeling in her cage before Vivian. “We cannot tell you the location of my mother or the others. The fate your kind will shackle them to is far worse than death. It is disgusting.”

Yoana’s knees were inches above the ground, and her hands gripped the iron bars before her. Her reddened hands turned white as she slowly rose higher and higher to her feet.

“I won’t let you subjugate my people. At least the East has the decency to put us out of our misery.” Yoana stared into Vivian’s eyes with a rising intensity, her dark red eyes almost seeming to gleam a brighter shade. “What do you know of our pain girl?! Do you think I am alive to answer their questions?”

 

[The Black Knight]

Even though Rafa had made an off-handed comment, Locke’s head immediately snapped around as he arched a brow at her and asked rudely, “And who are you?”

A slight smile curled at Hiro’s lips. He found it amusing that everyone was teasing Locke.

When they returned to the camp, Hiro set up Melody’s tent between his and Locke’s. Locke was already inside his tent passed out on his side and snoring. Melody was amazed by how fast the sell sword had fallen asleep. Hiro enlightened her, “If you had difficulty sleeping before, then you soon won’t have difficulty anymore. Our traveling days are long. You will learn to sleep any chance you can get.”

Hiro emerged from within Melody’s tent to stand before the smaller woman. “Everything is set up. Have a good night Melody.”

The cook folded her hands before her lap and smiled appreciatively up at Hiro. “Thank you, Hiro. I hope that I don’t prove to be a burden to your party.”

Hiro smiled. “Not at all, and it’s our party. You’re part of the team now.”

Mew…

The sudden meow made Melody jump. She immediately turned around to find a blue, thin cat. “Oh! Alfredo! You followed us?”

The blue cat sat before her, his tail wrapping around his legs. Mew, he replied.

Melody smiled as she bent over to pick the kitten up. “You poor thing. You look so hungry.”

“You have a pet kitten?” Hiro asked curiously.

Melody turned to face the fox, cradling the kitten in her arms and scratching his chin gently. “Not exactly. Well…I guess I do now. I found him searching for food in the alley. I started to feed him scraps and Mr. Chandler caught me and chased him off. I thought I would never see Alfredo again.” She smiled softly as she looked down at the cat. “I’m glad he followed us. I felt so terrible.” She cooed at the kitten. “You don’t have to starve anymore. I’ll take care of you.”

Mew! the cat happily chimed.

The monk smiled and turned toward his tent. “Good night. Please wake me or Locke if there’s a problem.”

Melody smiled and answered sharply, “I’ll try not to bother you, but if there’s an emergency, I’ll be sure to wake you, Hiro.”

As Hiro entered his tent, he finally removed the heavy helmet and stretched out his pointy ears with a relieved sigh. He felt a little sorry for Locke, but the sell sword was responsible for the stale relationship he built with Melody. Trickery and being an absolute boar wasn’t friendship material to everyone. He hoped that he and Melody would reconcile eventually, otherwise, the journey from then on was going to be rough.

Melody disappeared within her tent with Alfredo after Hiro went to sleep. She had a dried and salted fish to share with her companion and laid down to rest as she watched the starving kitten eat. What was her life going to be like now? She wondered. Mr. Chandler was going to notice her gone soon. Hopefully, he didn’t come find her.

 

[Arcanist]

Lanthane
Mentions: Locke/Hiro/Melody ( The Black Knight ), 'Spy'/Yoana ( InsaneAsylum ), Vivian/Rafa ( Takumi98 )​

Lanthane watched the spy's eyes move along the ground. Either that injury was truly taking it out of the spy, or else he was buying enough time for himself to think of a good excuse to get this noble off his tail. When he gave his reasoning for skulking around here, he found his heart tugging in two different directions. "I see..." He started, almost moving on to apologise to him for that, though, cleared his throat instead. Clichéd, he'd admit, but the idea of more families falling apart or being thrown into dangerous situations because of this dastard war hit him personally, and if anything made him uncomfortable. Regardless, he steeled himself, trying not to let that discomfort show in him again.

There came a sharp exhale from Lanthane's nose - not to the man's questioning of who they have in their possession - rather his eagerness to sneak into the camp and free Yoana in the first place. "You're keen, I'll give you that," He murmured, glancing over towards the cart where their prisoner was, though, turned back to the spy once again at his question. "Of course. Why would we keep her here with us otherwise?" There was a reason to Yoana's imprisonment here with them; though, it was a shame that Lanthane didn't know the exact reasoning for it. What could be obtained from bargaining or ransoming for her, even if any survivors of Ventin - if even the Queen herself - were to find her?

His ponderings over such matters were interrupted by the subject of thought herself, Yoana. She seemed more fiery than she had been previously, what with her understandable downtrodden expression. She was on her knees now, her voice getting louder and more passionate as she spoke to Vivian. Lan felt his body turn before he walked a little ways away from the apparent 'spy', and he found himself facing towards the other wagon that Yoana was imprisoned in. "That's enough!" He told her. Though, something deep inside stirred, and he couldn't stop the shouts that erupted from him. "Rivienne isn't the only nation to have committed heinous war crimes, and both Ventin and Feurey know it!"

Gerran​

The knight tried not to show too much humour in Rafa's comment. He was lucky not to after the scathing retort that came back from Locke. He simply yearned to be back in his tent to have some quiet thoughts to himself again. When they got back to camp, they had gone their seperate ways into their own seperate tents, with Hiro managing to cart Locke into some sort of bedding and sorting out Melody with a tent, and Rafa had disappeared before he could manage to say goodnight.

Gerran finally set up a tent for himself, seeing as he had gone straight into town without thinking of setting one for himself up before he left, and he got himself comfortable. Though, he hadn't gotten over to sleep right away; he read over the letter he had previously written, just in case he had missed anything important he had to update his family on. His eyes flickered over the mention of 'lord' once or twice, and his mind finally made its way back to the young man. He had met her before, when she came up to the city to surprise Gerran. It was one of several times in the knight's life where he had to suppress a hidden desire to throttle the then fifteen year old noble. Lanthane was awfully friendly to her, eyes landing upon certain assets 'on accident'. He turned to Gerran after she had left and commented,

"Your sister's lovely."

"Lovely?" Gerran forced the words out a little too sharply, his dark look upon Lan enough to wither even the most durable flower.

Lanthane's smile - though, Gerran had detected something of a smirk hidden in the corners of his lips - dropped, and he stammered, "Oh, no, no, not in that way! I simply meant to say that Sela has a great--"

"Please stop, m'lord."

From then on, Lan asked about Sela with furniture between himself and her brother.

Gerran, after reading over the letter, rolled up the parchment, setting it with his belongings so he could send it sometime tomorrow, all being well. It would take him some time to get over to any sort of sleep, and in the meanwhile, pondered whether Lan had similar difficulties getting over to sleep.

 

[InsaneAsylum]

Umeko was swift. The lighting crackling through her armor did little to slow her down as she pounced. Perhaps it was the shock of her spell not being effective that caused Rin not to evade. All she could do was watch was Umeko plunged her scorching hot blade into her chest with ease. Umeko then proceeded to kick the now blood chocking girl off of her blade and onto the ground before her.

Hiro acted quickly, sweeping up Rin in his arms and sprinting to the village gate and back the way they came. Umeko watched them go.

Daini was now alone to fight against Umeko. She still shook where she stood, hiding behind nearby debris in hopes no archers or the mad ronin would set their sights on her. Tears streamed down her face, as she buried her face between her knees, clutching one of her blades desperately.

Closer to Sheridan, the small little demon caller might find that Kaiyo had simply disappeared. If she paid enough attention perhaps she would’ve noticed a brief scuffle between her and a few other darkly dressed ninja, but only barely.

What would really grap her attention though was the man stumbling out of a burning house before her. The man was on fire, screaming in putrid agony. Purple liquid dripped from his mouth. His head turned to face Sheridan, still screaming. A moment later the man sprinted at her, one of his hands flexed and outstretched as he ran to try and grab and tackle her, still completely slight. His skin was burning off, but it didn't slow him down.

 

[Misuteeku]

Sheridan Sasaki
​

Sheridan jerked back as the man came out of the burning building. While she was not one to be surprised at surprises, she did not expect the man to be on fire, screaming, dripping a mysterious demonic looking substance, and now was charging at her like a feral boar. It was proven to be a little troublesome as the man was currently on fire, weakening her magic a tidbit. However, he was already weakened to the point that a single blow from her magic would easily put down the poor man out of his misery. "Rend with unholy claws, Accursed Strike!" With a single burning away, a swipe of dark energy came out of nowhere and bisected the already burning man in front of him. His flesh spilled out and the corpse itself was being burned by the fire. She didn't have time to observe the liquid nor wait for Kaiyo, she rushed into the village.

Everything was afire. Just like her bird puppet had seen, people were screaming, dying, and fighting amongst each other. The glutton and her boyfriend were nowhere to be seen, so she assumed they had retreated from the fight. In all circumstances, she should of ran. Her dog and bird puppet were destroyed and the only companions she had on her were the summoned demon and her puppet. The puppet itself didn't possess any combat potential at all, which left that she had only the demon left to fight. Her dark shadow magic wouldn't have that much effect either since everything was aglow with fiery light. Making her way, she finally spotted the flame samurai and Daini facing each other off. Whispering a small curse onto her puppet, she decided it was time for her to attack.

"Devour it." With a command the Amikiri came out of nowhere and darted towards Umenko. The chains of shadows that binded it weakened and later broken off as the creature broke free of it. Despite that, it still had one goal in mind. To devour the one person in front of it. Opening and closing it's pincers, it lunged forward at Umenko. The creature squiggled around as its bloodlust overtook itself. With the creature now distracting the main boss, Sheridan began casting a curse. It was going to fair bit of time, but she could tell the samurai in front of her was powerful than both her, Daini, and her beast combined. She needed to weaken it, so they had a good fighting chance.

InsaneAsylum Arcanist Entity.Eclypse