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Fantasy Hunter's Moon: Ascendancy [IC] [CLOSED]

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  1. Action
  2. Adventure
  3. AU
  4. Historical
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Dmaster

Sautekh Nemesor
Camille turned her head toward Azathor as he made his remark, her expression still just as serious despite his humor. "If I ever had to shoot you, take comfort in the fact that it would not be an accident."
 

Breadman

Big loaf supreme
Royland was hesitant to enter the train for a moment. Out of all the creations of man for transport, he hated these the most. Fast, but felt uncomfortable to be in one. If he could, he would make the trip on horseback, but he didn't they didn't have time for that luxury. Eventually the knight would take his first step in and then the second with much less hesitation as the others were right behind him.

He couldn't sit and leave the seats intact on account of his armor, just stand up straight while the train moved and gently swung him back and forth or side to side depending on the tracks. He would find little need to rest so it hardly phased him, but it did make him stick out awkwardly. He overheard the poor joke by Sebastian, but felt nothing too extreme over it. Mortals need to take the edge off and he would have likely done the same were he in his shoes. The old camps of knights and soldiers of yesteryear were not full of the cheeriest bunch. His colleagues from after would be even less so. What really had him interested was the huntress' statement on how to kill demons better. Something that was among his expertise.

"I do suggest you use something more powerful than a bullet for a demon as strong as him. Iron would be a good start, but a simple blessing from a priest can further damage them. Incantations from wizards, exorcism and auras of the devout have won more victories against incursions, but you hear less of them since they lack the spectacle of combat."
 

joshuadim

the writer
Camille turned her head toward Azathor as he made his remark, her expression still just as serious despite his humor. "If I ever had to shoot you, take comfort in the fact that it would not be an accident."
Azathor was taken aback by Camille's bluntness for a moment before laughing aloud, slapping his hands together. "Ahah! Oho... I almost took you for Hudson for a moment there." the demon replied with a grin, "I get it now. The two of you match perfectly." He then leaned back in his seat again and sighed, "Just save such focus for the real enemy, right? Or are you going to blanket hate all of us like your husband does?"
 

Dmaster

Sautekh Nemesor
The huntress certainly appreciated Royland's explanation of how to deal with demons, but she was rather familiar with the best ways to deal with them already. Upon being compared to her husband, she simply rolled her eyes before fixing them back on Azathor.

"My husband has good reason to be distrustful of demons. Even before going into the Abyss, he was a hunter that would fight your kind who managed to sneak into our world. I could go into further detail of the horrible atrocities those demons exposed him to, but I believe you're already painfully aware of them, non?" Camille retorts, starting to fold back up her crossbow and close it up completely.

"My focus on our task is not in question. But I'll paint a picture on the differences between my husband and I. Where he prefers to swing broadly, I tend to be far more precise. I do not make mistakes, for if I made a habit of that I would not be sitting here now. If you are a part of Sazak's plan, willingly or not - I will not hesitate to do what needs to be done. That is all."
 
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joshuadim

the writer
I do not make mistakes, for if I made a habit of that I would not be sitting here now.
"Everyone makes mistakes. Only a fool claims to never have." Azathor replied, unimpressed with such arrogance emanating from the Escarian woman. "Though, perhaps you just don't want to admit to yourself that you might have at some point. At least your friend Ethraeil was honest in that respect."

If you are a part of Sazak's plan, willingly or not - I will not hesitate to do what needs to be done. That is all.
"Hah! You don't have to worry about that. The only plan dear old father has for me is to have my head on a spike outside his palace. Or maybe torture... who knows what vile fate he has in store for me? I could never tell in that vile ball of hate that he is." he then said, scratching his head.
 

Dmaster

Sautekh Nemesor
The huntress kept her arms crossed, yet when questioned about having made mistakes she shrugs her shoulders with little enthusiasm. "I could regale you with some slight errors I have made in the past, but they're rather irrelevant in the grand scheme of things. In my line of work you should understand that mistakes are often fatal, and though I see every battle as an opportunity to better myself I don't behave like this is a game or sport," she clarifies.

"Hah! You don't have to worry about that. The only plan dear old father has for me is to have my head on a spike outside his palace. Or maybe torture... who knows what vile fate he has in store for me? I could never tell in that vile ball of hate that he is."

"As far as you know," Camille reasserts. "I am leaving nothing to chance. I know what that monster is capable of, and I will never allow him to surprise me again." Her blunt yet mostly calm matter of speaking was starting to get more invigorated, restrained rage slightly breaking through on certain syllables of her accent.
 

Worthlessplebian

Worthless pleb
Rajko could not help but belly-chuckle at Takato's explanation of his magical abilities with the involvement of cards, a spiritual—or is it a metaphysical—essence called 'qi,' and Redonian mysticism through the dark ages. If nothing else that would leave Sebastian stumped, Rajko thinks. The little exchange between the three faded with mercurial quickness as the members of this coven began to shoot accusations, advice, and dagger-words. Of failures past, pragmaticism, and other drivel. A furrow most dire placed itself on Rajko's forehead as he snuffed his huffing, storing away the pipe for future endeavours.

"I am on this train for all of seven minutes, and I already feel the overwhelming urge to shoot myself." His words were blunt, yet tone was inhibited. "I beg of you to practice restraint if you're going to engage in spats like twats."
 

Breadman

Big loaf supreme
"Excuse me, your infernal grace." Royland was hung up on something Azathor said "Did I hear correct that you have met the fiend Ethrael, likely in the Abyss along with his unholy army and not only that, but you claim that he had a moment of clarity?" The knight clasped his hands, maintaining them just above his waist in front of his abdomen. "That is a rather interesting development, I have to admit." A quick chuckle escaped him. "One that my own colleagues haven't informed me about such a thing and second that I had not heard a single thing from the souls trapped over there yonder due to his own deeds. Did he speak true?"
 

joshuadim

the writer
"As far as you know," Camille reasserts. "I am leaving nothing to chance. I know what that monster is capable of, and I will never allow him to surprise me again."
Azathor ruminated on the words for a moment as he could practically feel the anger she displayed with regards to his father. Yet another victim of his machinations and evil sitting before him, and a constant reminder of a legacy that would haunt him for the rest of his days. "Believe me when I say, then, I don't want him to ever win at anything again. He's hurt enough people already. Ruined enough lives."

"Excuse me, your infernal grace." Royland was hung up on something Azathor said "Did I hear correct that you have met the fiend Ethrael, likely in the Abyss along with his unholy army and not only that, but you claim that he had a moment of clarity?" The knight clasped his hands, maintaining them just above his waist in front of his abdomen. "That is a rather interesting development, I have to admit." A quick chuckle escaped him. "One that my own colleagues haven't informed me about such a thing and second that I had not heard a single thing from the souls trapped over there yonder due to his own deeds. Did he speak true?"
"Fiend? Clearly you've been out of the loop on quite a lot of things." Azathor spoke in response to Royland, "Wielding an army on a crusade to slay Taranoch himself and, with my help, slew countless fiends, as you would describe them, on his quest. He even managed to graze Taranoch himself from what I heard, but ultimately failed. Regardless, he has caused enough chaos in the Abyss to allow Tariun's rebellion to foster numbers to those that would turn against that tyrant and his lackeys." Azathor looked directly at Royland with an unflinching gaze: "So yes, I would say he has had many moments of clarity, even long before his war." he spoke, "And now, from what I hear, he's gathering his strength for yet another attempt at the Demon King himself."
 

Breadman

Big loaf supreme
"Bah, a lich sacrifices his soul for power and you trust his mewling as penitence. You creatures of Veinglory forget yourselves too often." Royland spat out "Each one of those slain, a potential soldier in his beck and call and the shades that litter the Abyss with his mark on their bodies cry out in desperation still. I have no doubts that whatever support you gained from him is but temporary in nature." Royland began to find it difficult to remain calm. The fools would gladly accept a lich as powerful as that to walk freely and amass his army. A lich that would challenge the ruler of the Abyss no less. Even making excuses for him as they do so. His own contempt for the Icons is well known, but if the would be usurpers are planning to just let him walk and not destroy him, then the future of the Abyss is clear. "When he faces the Demon king again, you best hope they both slay each other, for we are too far to finish the victor."
 

Dmaster

Sautekh Nemesor
Rajko's rude commentary nearly got the huntress to stand up from her seat, the slightest insinuation that her expression of pain was a trivial spat to this newcomer taken as an insult. Tightly her hands dug into her arms, the leather of her gloves creaking as she shot the inquisitor a hateful glare. 'You may be doing us a favor if you did, you fruit-sucking freak of nature,' she thought, so desperately wanting to say it aloud yet kept back by the need to keep the group unified.

"Believe me when I say, then, I don't want him to ever win at anything again. He's hurt enough people already."

The silence on Azathor's part got her to lower the intensity of her gaze, but only slightly. The words that he spoke next kept her silent for some time, unsure of how to feel about the demon prince as the huntress soon tried to look to her booth's window. Force of habit, as there was nothing but cold steel to greet her unless she were to stand up to peer through the tiny slit above her. Quietly, she sucks her teeth with frustration.

"In that we all agree," Camille stated simply, going back to her thoughts as she slowly calmed herself down.
 
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joshuadim

the writer
"Bah, a lich sacrifices his soul for power and you trust his mewling as penitence. You creatures of Veinglory forget yourselves too often."

Azathor rolled his eyes at Royland's words, and audibly scoffed. "A man, torn by insurmountable grief, tricked by my father into becoming an unwilling servant and has spent centuries seeking vengeance for such an unholy curse put upon him." he replied, leaning his head forward towards Roylan from his seat, "Who has spent every waking moment reliving the agony he felt that day and sought justice for the dead. Who are you to judge him, you boot-kissing slime?"
 

Breadman

Big loaf supreme
"Who am I?" Royland shrugged. "I suppose you're as dim as your bloodline is thick since you haven't figured it out by now your 'grace'." The knight spat. "Did you not sense the presence of another abyssal next to you all this time or have you been thinking how to grandstand over us non-glorious to notice?" The knight took grabbed his helm revealing his visage. "Royland Merindos the IVth. Servant of her Grace and emissary of vengence itself. I am a wraith, you impotent lordling and by right of Father Lozon of the Hanging forest, I am granted the right to extract vengeance in the name of every shade that lich has damned to the Abyss with his unholy magic. Something your kind has scoffed at. Whatever agony that wretch is feeling will be nothing to what him and his kind deserve." Having let Azathor observe him, he placed his helm back where it once stood. "Their souls cry out every day and if he wishes to prove me wrong he can go be torn asunder by them."
 

joshuadim

the writer
"Oh believe me I knew what you were, and I didn't care in the slightest." Azathor replied in kind, sneering at Royland's self-righteous grandstanding. "Servant of the most bloodthirsty wench in this realm who went and committed genocide to satiate her own hateful impulses. Perpetrator of an orgy of violence not seen for centuries against countless innocents! Judging innocents to damnation for simply existing as they are. And you are just an inconsequential, insignificant speck. A tool in the utter sense of the word!"

He then sat up pointing at Royland with a spiteful sneer: "At least I don't pretend everything is good and fine with me. You ignore the crimes your murderous whore because it suits your own purpose. Am I supposed to clap at your 'vengeful right'? Please. Your flames of vengeance couldn't even melt a marshmellow." He then laughed aloud, "When the Lich King has done far more for avenging the sins of the past than you can ever muster in your existence, then your very being is redundant you spiteful cretin of the lowest order."
 

Breadman

Big loaf supreme
"Accusations dripping from the same mouth that was busy wrapping its lips kissing arse of the worst Lich in our history." Royland sneered "Why if I didn't know your father threw you out for how much of a pathetic worm you are, I'd think you're here to achieve anything other than being useful in killing him. " He waved him off. "I have nothing to prove to your kind, lord that I haven't proven time and time again. Both among the mortals and in the Abyss, so spare me your cosmic scales hinging on a fiend not stabbing you in the back you so graciously show him. The display was simply for my enjoyment alone."
 

Infab

The Demon Fanatic
"Lovely little discussion we're having here!" said Cassandra, speaking up from a seat she had taken at the far end of the seating area. Facing the others as she sat in the corner of the booth, leg folded atop the other as she rested her head against her fist on the windowsill. She simply grinned afterwards, peering at each of them with her right eye from under the brim of her wide hat. "We keep this up, and Sazak's ilk won't have to kill us. We'll have killed each other before we even reach Grimtham. Let alone the first artifact."

Rebecca, meanwhile, stood at the end of the cart near the door. She had been listening to the entire conversation, attention bouncing between each of the speakers as they bickered with one another. And her expression slowly shifted from surprise to frustration. Eventually, after the pureblood cut her a glance and a smile, she spoke up. "Petulant children, some of you!" she spat, "I have a mind to slap you!"

She stepped forwards into the aisle between the seats. "We are here, on a grand and historic mission to stop yet another demonic invasion of the realm, and you are too busy tossing snide comments at one another! You should be ashamed of yourselves!" she continued, "You must work together, if we are to prove successful in this endeavor! Otherwise, the Icons will prey on our division, separate us, and slaughter us like cattle!"

She then motioned a finger to Cassandra. "Look! THE PUREBLOOD IS EVEN BEHAVING BETTER THAN YOU!" she barked.

Cassandra cut her a look briefly, then looked back to the others. "Well, yes. I'm here to help set things right, kill Sazak, then return to the Abyss. I don't care what the rest of you are or do, because its not my place to."
 
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joshuadim

the writer
Azathor was about to deliver another verbal barrage until Rebecca intervened with some well placed words. He had admittedly gotten rather heated at the words of some hateful being who knew nothing of anything. He looked at Rebecca for a moment before straightening himself and nodding. "You're right. Words are wasted on someone who has a head up their ass so far they can't see daylight." he gave as a final comment before taking a seat once again in the train, kicking back in legs on the rest of the seat to lean in on the wall. "Let's kill Sazak and the others then." he said, with a smirk.
 

Breadman

Big loaf supreme
Royland glanced towards Rebecca then back towards Azathor, then towards Cassandra and finally back to Rebecca.

"There is much that has transpired since you were away, Rebecca." He finally spoke, more calm now that he was at the center of attention, but for different reasons. "But I've been dealing with insolent brats all the same." Yet another demon lord out of his depth he had to content with. Only time would tell if he's better than his father. The knight cared not what he had to say, or at least told himself that. But even so he left the passenger car. He needed to meditate on some things.
 

Dmaster

Sautekh Nemesor
Camille had taken to tuning out the bickering between the knight and demon, eyeing Sebastian as he was likely doing his very best to keep reading his book through all of this. She found herself rather jealous that the man was prepared enough to take such a distraction on the trip with him. Though considering he wasn't wearing some earmuffs to mask this stupid argument, the huntress had to imagine that he wasn't that prepared.

From the words she picked up on they were talking about Ethraeil, and while the Marquess worked alongside him she was also initially not keen with him being an ally. And yet in many ways the lich proved to be resolute and useful in their exploits, and thus she had no qualms with him choosing to take the fight directly into the Abyss. Still, Azathor was shaping up to be desperate to prove the merits of himself and those he respects to a fault. In some regards, the huntress was sympathetic to that plight, given how much of her life was spent trying to earn the respect of her family as she forged her own path as a respected hunter. Yet even if she were only half listening to the conversation, Camille knew that Royland would never see things the demon's way.

Having spent enough time with the lich herself, she knew that he cared very little for the word and wrath of an angry sword arm that served Velin. Azathor was fighting an uphill battle in the name of someone who could care less to be defended from a person like Royland.

Cassandra's... optimistic outlook did not dignify a passing glance from Camille, but Rebecca reminding them on the necessity of unity did obtain the huntress' attention. "I've already made my intentions quite clear. Azathor's clumsy social skills would be a rather stupid thing for me to jeopardize our mission over, as would any commentary from your model pureblood or the man-bat." Her remarks weren't meant to stoke any embers into flames, even if it could appear that way. "This is more important to me than many of you could ever realize. I shall either mend this broken world or die fighting for it."
 
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K0mori

Servant Supreme
Sebastian looked up from his book, now that things had gotten a bit quieter. He had a talent for tuning out things he didn't want to listen to, as long as he had a book in his hands. He had, once again, failed to take note when Ser Royland was divulging his Abyssal nature, and now simply wondered what had been said to send the man into a huff.

He turned back to Takato. "That sounds nice, really. I've dreamed about flying since I was little," he said nonchalantly, grounding out what was left of his cigarette on the table next to him.
 

Damian0358

Roleplaying Procrastinator From Elsewhere
If there is one thing Xiaòzhou did not anticipate occurring soon after his presentation on flight, it was an argument breaking out between Camille, Azathor and Royland, one which irritatingly reminded him of those he had heard during the Abyssal inquiry. The expression he briefly noted from Sebastian after his presentation soon shifted to one of wanting to tune out this mess, returning back to the book he had been reading up to that point, while he simply could not allow himself to do the same. At one point during the arguing he had even been tempted to use his mystic abilities to force the two abyssals to the floor with an intensified gravitational pull, but thankfully someone reasonable would speak up in the form of Rebecca. He sighed in relief that her words managed to break through to them, even as one of them departed from the passenger car to the neighboring one.

If nothing else, it appeared Sebastian appreciated his offer for flight, which brought a tender smile to his face: "If that is the case, then whenever you are interested, and it is the right time and place, perhaps that dream may finally become reality."
 

Worthlessplebian

Worthless pleb
Despite the taxing "conversation" that Rajko had to endure moments ago, he had finally mustered the mental skill necessary to silence it. Though from the last gasps of knowledge, it seemed as though that it would soon disperse by Rebecca's best efforts. Good, he thought. He will soon no longer need to exercise conscious effort in ignoring such a waste of time. At least Ser Royland had divulged an interesting bit or two of information. Not just about demon slaying, but of himself as well. Sottaks quietly committed that to memory. His brown globes followed the brief exchange between Sebastian, who wished to fly, and Takato, who could fly. It recalled his memories of when he first took to the skies as a pup. His gloved hand reached over to the side of his neck, gently caressing the scar.

He turned to the two men. "I reckon you'd best take his offer, Sebastian." He nodded towards the Redonian. "I've been made aware that my fellows don't particularly like my style of flight, hehe." A somber chuckle at the memory of their pained or panicked expressions, unbeknownst to Rajko, his hand still wrapped around his neck scar.
 

Infab

The Demon Fanatic
After those that were still standing found their seats, it wasn't long until a whistle sounded outside the train. It was time to depart, it seemed. Soldiers that were joining them on the train quickly climbed aboard their intended cars, leaving the group to occupy their own car. As the train soon began to slowly move forward, the engine's wheels turning and pulling the cars behind it along, Adona and Vincent watched from the platform with a few other soldiers. The pair waiving at those they could see through the narrow slits in the windows. It was going to be a long journey to the north. A few days just to reach the northern coast, and then however many days it would take to locate where the pirate cove was on Grimtham Isle.

Hopefully they would make it safe and sound.

As the train left the depot, passing smoothly and swiftly through Eternis, a few civilians stopped and watched the armored cars pass by. A common sight at the moment, with the war, but still something to give pause. Some of the soldiers in the cars to the front and rear waved at the civilians, as well as fellow soldiers, on the streets as they passed. Off to a destination far from here, passing by war torn parts of Atraca to the north where their fellow brothers and sisters in arms were fighting the invading Daristeinians.

Aboard the train, Cassandra eyed the slit that they had to use to peer out of. Frowning, she began to inspect the window frame around it. And then, she noticed something. A small black metal latch at the bottom of the frame. She reached down and flicked it to the side with a finger, unlocking it, before pushing gently on the plating. And with enough of a nudge, it slid up and out of the way. Revealing the passing landscape, rolling green and gold plains. "Hah, the windows slide up!" she said, smirking slightly.
 

Worthlessplebian

Worthless pleb
Rajko expected him to ask that question, but he had nothing to hide. "it's just the clawed hands and feet don't make for good graspers. Then again, if I didn't lift them, their ends might not have been palatable. So uncomfortable shoulder scratches are preferable to oblivion. Or worse." He stowed the pipe away, before resuming. "I'm merely saying it isn't the most comfortable method of flight."

As Rajko concluded his explanation, the dancing whistle signaled the beginning of their departure. With a reserved sigh, the werebat peeped out to get a look at the citizens waving their soldiers... And them goodbye.

He slid down in his seat, lowered the brim of his V-shaped hat, crossed his legs, and clamped his digits. It seemed that he would be sleeping? But the way his body turned rigid once the brim went down signified another reason?
 

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