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Fantasy The Roaring Sky

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The Roaring Sky knows no mercy. Its wrath honors no code, bringing death and ruin to anything that lays before its path - and the entirety of Valheim is left under its looming shadow.

The Stormchasers are a glimmering light of hope that journeys forth into the unknown, seeking a future reminiscent of Valheim's old glory. However, they must face trials and tribulations - will they be able to overcome them, or will they be taken by the Roaring Sky as well?
Sub Genres
  1. Action
  2. Adventure
  3. Anime
  4. LGTBQ
  5. Magical
  6. Platonic
  7. Romance
The Roaring Sky
It had been several weeks since the day that the Stormchasers was formed.

To many, it was marked the start of a new age - where fear of the storm would soon be no more, where those who have fled would be able to return to their homes. To some, it was a futile attempt against an unstoppable force of nature - that lives will only be spent and their efforts will be wasted for no purpose.

But there are those who believe that it was simply the first step of a lengthy journey - one that would decide the fate of Valheim, and those that live in it.

Once the spotlight shone on the Steward, watching her every move and her response to the issues brought upon by The Roaring Sky. Now it is on the Stormchasers, innumerable eyes waiting for their first move. The hope of Valheim has been placed upon their hands, and it is up to them to live up to the burden placed upon them.

Will their campaign begin with success, or will they stumble from their first steps?

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Osferth Zylavor
Location: Fort Zeldem

Quite some time had passed since the foundation of the Stormchasers. Several days were spent on assessing the recruits and briefing them about how things operate in the organization, as well as its purpose - the ultimate goal of resolving the issue that was The Roaring Sky. The weeks that followed such a juncture were consumed on the final touches of the establishment of the group, which mainly involved moving equipment and people to Fort Zeldem - a location that was honorably given to them by the Steward herself.

With most of the moving protocols complete, the volunteers who have aided in the effort, both civilian and otherwise, have left to return to their lives back at The Citadel. The few that remained were simply finishing up as well - soon enough, it would only be the Stormchasers present at Fort Zeldem.

Fort Zeldem was large enough to dedicate parts of it for certain purposes such as the living quarters of the Stormchasers, an armory to store and maintain the group's equipment, a fairly sized training room, and more. Amongst many of these sections was the Grandmaster's chamber - where Osferth was in the midst of contemplation.

He sat on a wooden chair, parts of it still slightly dusty from a prolonged period of disuse. Before him, was a wooden table, its surface riddled with numerous paperwork - topics ranging from scouting reports borrowed from the Empire's military to diaries of past adventurers. He knew he was on the verge of discovery, about to figure out something that could give the Stormchasers an edge in their campaign against The Roaring Sky - but there was simply something missing. A detail that he must have missed, a set of words he must have forgotten.

After an hour of thought, he still had nothing. A bit frustrated than he wanted to be, Osferth left the room and headed onto the mess hall. All he needed was a few breaths of fresh air, a moment to clear his mind and realign his thoughts - and what better way to that than to eat, especially after having not slept the previous night, he needed to replenish some energy.

Luckily, his arrival at his destination was right on schedule, for breakfast was usually served at this time. A sizeable feast had been assembled at the tables, which was quite a surprise to see - oftentimes such quantity and quality of meals appeared only at moments for celebration. Curious to the cause of such an occurrence, Osferth approached someone nearby - a man who was in the midst of finishing the preparations for the feast.

"Numan, what's the occasion for today?", Osferth called the man's attention with a shoulder tap. "I rarely see you and your crew make meals of this scale."

"Well, it's our last day today. We'll be returning to The Citadel before the sunset.", the man, apparently named Numan, responded with a soft chuckle. "Might as well part with a glorious feast."

"I see.", Osferth gave him a nod. "Then let us make this a moment to remember!"

Numan let out yet another chuckle and requested Osferth to take a seat and wait for him to finish the preparations, to which the Grandmaster obliged. Once finished, all that was left was to wait for the others to arrive, both members of the group or not.



angry fluff
Sennen Heydari
Location: Fort Zeldem - Living Quarters

Being part of the Stormchasers had been quite the peaceful yet interesting venture for Sennen. For the past few weeks, Sennen had only been asked to help carrying equipment and to familiarize himself with the organization and the facilites. Fort Zeldem was the best accomodation Sennen has sleeped in in years. There was a library, a training area, a dining hall and all sorts of conveniences one does not get to enjoy when bouncing from village to village with nothing more than a few coins. It did, however, have the disadvantage of being a bit far from the Citadel.

The capital was the largest town Sennen had been in. He spent a whole day exploring the city and discovering the local taverns, guilds, markets and shops. He was surprised by the cultural diversity of the Citadel, with different parts of the town feeling like completely different cities with a distinct culture and lifestyle. The rumours circulating in the streets were also quite different from what he was used to. There were no talks of personal struggles, instead there was talk of nobles and important people and news surrounding them. An important family's firstborn son had gotten drunk and acted inappropriately, and was now looking to rebuild his reputation. A local noble feel ill and had to delay her coming of age ceremony. That, and countless rumours and curiosities about the Stormchasers. Rumours such as the Grandmaster having won a fight against 100 bandits, the "Wallbreaker" being 20 feet tall, the Stormchasers having a pet badger or the existence of a knight in black armor being a demon in disguise. In short, a combination of truth, exaggeration and outright fabrication.

Sennen now found himself laying on his bed in the living quarters, reading a book he had taken from the library. He had opened it around the halfway mark and was simply reading to relax. He was starting to feel some hunger creep in as the faint yet enticing smell from the kitchen made its way to the living quarters. As the group was finally somewhat established from an administrative standpoint, Sennen decided to get up and look around to see what the other Stormchasers were doing. Maybe it was finally time to start building bonds within the group.

Silver Wolf

Something Random
Location: Fort Zeldem
Interactions: Reinhardt Reinhardt (Osferth)

Before the sky had begun garnering shades of pink and orange, Lupa always awoke. The sky would almost always be a shade of deep blue, but it was hard to see that with a cataclysmic storm swirling in the sky. Somehow, she still managed to keep her internal clock after the catastrophe had hit. Of course, someone who consistently woke up before the sun peaked over the horizon had a morning routine they did religiously. First, Lupa tied her hair into a ponytail despite how messy it was. Then she slipped herself into a basic tunic one might see on someone not really planning to be dressed for the day might wear. Yet, the Tunic had a little ring on the hip, and that's where she attached her rapier which she carried around when not expecting combat.

First trip of the day was the armory. Not to sort the tools or make sure everything was in order. To normal people it may seem that way, but it wasn't so. Lupa always chose three weapons to practice with in the morning. Three weapons she would spend half an hour with each before rotating to the next. After staring down the choices, she picked a standard longsword, a spear with a large triangular shaped tip, and a crossbow along with some bolts. After briefly walking to the training grounds, she set two weapons down and kept one. A training dummy poised in a combat position with a shield caught her eye, and her weapon of choice for the straw enemy. She got into a stance with her spear and eyed up the straw dummy with a look of focus and discipline uncharacteristic to the normally bubbly and smiling Lupa.

While sliding thrusts certainly were a normal occurrence, Lupa never preffered them due to the defensive nature. Pushing only the spear forward without the full momentum of a body always came off ass cautious. Besides, Grendel had shown her at least several methods to counter such an extremely common move. It would have less momentum, and the user would always have to pull their spear back to their bodies before using it again. Something that could be interrupted in those ways didn't really suit her. No, as she held the spear, it became a part of her. When it moved, she did. Every thrust was met with a lunge or step, pushing more momentum into her strike. Her spear was always held firmly with both hands, ready to be yanked back at a moment's immediate notice. After some practice jabs at the shield, she began looking to bypass the thing. The large triangular tip meant the spear could slash if needed, but that was almost never advised against a shield unless there were openings sticking out. Legs and arms were fair game, so she went for those where they would be with some slashes then jumped back and made a very powerful lunge. This imaginary game of finding chinks and exploiting them went on for several minutes when she ended the maneuvers with a jump and stabbing the spear into the dummy over its shield. Straw and dried plant matter sprayed out from the other side, and Lupa gave a satisfied grin and wiped her forehead.

Next was the longsword. A weapon she was far more familiar with, and it showed. This time she chose a dummy without a shield, but that didn't matter much. She chose the blade because of its versatility, and a bulky shield like the one on the last dummy which was practically a full body shield that could perform a phalanx maneuver would be stupid to use a sword against. Large shields were often accompanied with thrusting weapons that would have reach. Trying to get up close and personal would always end poorly unless one had crazy good skill at such a thing. After what seemed to be an elaborate dance of ferocity and grace, Lupa ended the dummy's non-existent life with a well placed stab to the chest.

The last one was a crossbow, nothing of great noteworthiness to speak of. The device was simple, put bolt in, pull, and shoot. Of course some skill was necessary, but the device was among the only ranged weapons Lupa could use effectively. Hence, practice on making sure she had the proper fundamentals would always be needed. It was too bad she couldn't use two handed weapons as well as she could handle a crossbow though. What one would be able to do with such strength and power on their side, she had seen first hand in sparing matches with Grendel. Of course, Lupa's strengths lied in balance and adaptability more than overwhelming power. Though she would often have a laugh with others at the idea of her using something as bulky as a battleaxe or great sword like a traditional meathead. Most had a hard time taking the thought seriously due to her happy and outgoing nature. Not to say she wasn't effective on the battlefield, but she would always excel more as a savvy swashbuckler than a powerhouse wielding weapons that hit hard.

With dawn just approaching by the time she was done with training, Lupa took to getting some clean water and washing herself off briefly. She didn't know if she would have time for using a bath house. Yet, a brief wash with a couple buckets would have to be good enough. After that, she made it back to her room and changed her clothes to her more familiar officer uniform. After buttoning up and clicking the cape in place, she walked out and made her way to the dining hall, surprised to see an entire feast laid out and the grandmaster talking with Numen. With a smile she approached and said, "If I had known there would be a feast this morning, I would've had some wine delivered yesterday. Well, if it comes before you depart, we may still have a great deal of merriment. It would be a shame to spend money on such a thing and not have it be enjoyed by others."

She looked at the array of food and began feeling the urge to wolf it all down (pun totally intended). "I'm mostly experienced in making Tavern Food or using rations in creative ways, but this is a feast. All of you really outdid yourselves this time, Numen."


~ what if I fall ~ what if I fly ~
Location: Fort Zeldem
Interaction/s: Cauldhill Cauldhill {Sennen}

The bowstring grew taut and pulled against her fingers. Cecie braced against the dull ache as it bit into her calluses. Just a little to the right...twang. It was a split second before the arrow left the bow and thudded into a target. She let out a breath, relaxing her arms. It felt like forever since she had been home, but the morning exercises still had a warm familiarity. She walked up to the target to inspect the damage. The arrow was embedded to about one-third of the shaft. The diameter of the hole was larger than the others that littered the surface and the head was almost as sharp as before. Cecie gave an impressed whistle. They sure brought some high quality equipment from the Capitol.

She took out her little book and started making notes on the arrow and its performance. As she began cleaning up, she glanced across the way to where others had been practicing. Cecie always thought that she woke up rather early, but when she arrived, there were already people seemingly midway through exercises. It made her a little more confident in the group, but seeing some of the shredded dummies...She added another note to her book: "Avoid fighting anyone here."

...Cecie wandered the fort, her stomach growling as she bumped into another dead-end. Of course they would change locations right when she had gotten used to the Capitol. She went down a hallway to the left, praying that something would be familiar. She was relieved to see a person up ahead.

"Hey!" She called, quickening her pace to catch up. "Which way are ya heading? Er...Sennen." The time in the Capitol had helped her get better with names, but Cecie was never absolutely certain.


Through adversity to the stars.


The vibrant resonance of the morning bell had woken up the mercenary from his dormancy, opening his eyes wide on the fourth ring, ending another cycle of nightmares that had been tormenting his mental state since that particular day. Despite the efforts and clear struggles, it remained impossible even after the years of silent meditation and charitable deeds.

Perhaps, his selfish desire to rid of the guilt in his mind was starting to creep up on him like his own shadow, reminding him of the certainty that at the end of the day, his reason for desiring self-forgiveness was clearly, aimed towards himself throwing the blame at someone else.

But to contemplate his delusions after waking up for a supposed busy day, would be too draining for his already depleted energy that had once existed during his youthful years.

Alentiar lifted himself from his bed and neatly folded his bedsheet, in hopes of making someone's day when they enter the room to sweep the place of dust and presence. It was the minor efforts that mattered the most, putting attention to every small detail in his actions, while also seeking to aid with someone else's laborious day that had their own problems to deal with. Perhaps, his way of solving issues via self-assurance wasn't the greatest of ideas one could occupy themselves with.

It was until the mercenary came across the armor that had since combined with his identity, one of the Steelborne Guild's prized possession that was entrusted to him by his deceased friend. Crafted and perfected by a blacksmith whose identity was foreign to him, but was supposedly someone of great identity that lived within the uncharted mountains of Valheim.

To anyone, being an owner of such an item would've injected them with a dose of pride, to the point of driving a man into the insanity called vanity. However, to Alentiar, wearing this armor was no more than a curse that he had cast on himself.

The mercenary would equip himself with the armor that formerly belonged on the armor stand, strapping the steel onto his body for superlative protection. He felt a surge of mana striking through his blood vessels the moment the anti-magic capabilities activated, mildly waking him from his fatigue that was lingering at the back of his bed.

Once he was finished with his morning routines, the mercenary left his lodging room one last time, heading towards the location of the dining room. It wasn't a long walk, but it felt like forever as his armor didn't help with the weight that was crushing his shoulders, both physically and mentally. It also didn't help that he felt mildly anxious about meeting with the other Stormchasers, who seemed a bit too cheerful and open for his taste. Though, these thoughts were nothing but self-manifested judgments after a brief amount of discourse.

Alentiar ceased his steps the moment he made contact with the spacious dining room. He preferred to not make himself known to the general public, but today was an exception as he felt it was required for him to exchange words with the other Stormchasers.

For now, the mercenary remained silent and took a seat on one of the tables, even though it was unlikely for him to devour any cuisines that were presented on the table.

Already, he was having a vast problem with simple communication, such as starting conversations with those who already knew of his entrance.



angry fluff
Sennen Heydari
Location: Fort Zeldem
Interactions: what_if what_if (Cecie)​

As Sennen was making his way towards the dining hall, he was called by a familiar voice. "Hey! Which way are ya heading? Er...Sennen." It was Cecie, a woman of short stature Sennen had seen practicing archery in the training grounds. While she spped-walked her way to him, Sennen took the opportunity to inspect his fellow Stormchaser who he had not seen from up close. The only particular detail that caught his eye was that she was carrying a notebook. In fact, he'd seen her carry a notebook quite often. Well, that still put her considerably lower than most other Stormchasers on his weirdo-scale.

"Hey. Smells like someone made some food, so I was gonna see if I could grab a bite". Sennen turned towards the direction he was headed while keeping his eyes on Cecie. "Sylvie, right? Coming with?"


~ what if I fall ~ what if I fly ~
Location: Fort Zeldem
Interaction/s: Cauldhill Cauldhill {Sennen}

"It's Cecie." She said, taking time to enunciate it. She slowed down a little when she caught up, but was pressed to keep up with his gait. "Two syllables. Ain't that hard. And yeah, I was just thinking of getting a bite. It's a good thing I found ya, in case you got lost."

As they walked, Cecie took stalk of her surroundings and of Sennen. Flipping to an earlier page, she skimmed over what she wrote when she first saw him. Nothing useful, really. "Tall", "Nicked brow", "A kick to the shins would solve height issues", etc. She started jotting down notable features of the halls and simple directions, which would have been a lot easier if most of the descriptions weren't "stone", "stone", and "more stone." It was frustrating enough that she shoved her notebook into a pocket, resolving to let her future self deal with the consequences.

"Can't say I've seen much of ya. How've you been getting on?" She said.

Sinful Sorcerer

Touhou Enthusiast
Byakuren Hijiri
Location: The Citadel, Fort Zeldem
Interactions: Reinhardt Reinhardt {Osferth}, Xethyrion Xethyrion {Alentiar}

Having finished her business in the capital, Byakuren hurried along the busy streets in search of the so-called Stormchasers, a party which she had recently become part of. Things were different here, so very different from the place she had once called home. The buildings were majestic, a mix of old and new and the people were open and straight-forward. Before setting foot in Valheim she had scarcely heard of people different from her; seeing the scaled beast-folk back on her island had been quite a shock. Yet here the streets and alleys were bustling with life of all shapes and sizes. It would be quite hard to adjust to, especially with how she was still learning the language. But more than daunting, it was exciting to her. A new life in a new world. Still, she had other matters to attend to. The Stormchasers had gathered up in a fort a few hours away by carriage, and she had been instructed to join them there. She had gotten lost a few times on her way here; partly due to her lacking language skills, partly because she had a hard time asking for directions, so she would have to hurry if she were to make it before dark.

The journey across the sea had been treacherous and when reaching the shores of Valheim, her ship had unsurprisingly got caught up in the vile thunderstorm. A burst of lightning had struck the foremast and shook the vessel to its core, surrounding wood catching fire in the process. It was a miracle she had made it ashore, and not all had been so lucky. Lifeboats were limited and despite being able to make out the surrounding coast-line, they were yet not in swimming distance. Even had they been, she knew not how to swim as her isolated life-style had kept her from ever having to learn how to. The ship's captain was a proud man, rugged and strong with a stronger heart still. If the ship was to sink, and its supply of fish and crabs with it, his village would suffer greatly. As such he refused to abandon ship and fought with all he could muster to keep her afloat. He began throwing things overboard, anything with considerable weight that wasn't necessary. In awe of his determination, Byakuren soon joined in and others with her. The ship was taking in water, so they tried to fill whatever holes they could to stop the flow and slow the sinking process. They filled buckets and barrels full of it before dozing the fire on-deck. It was an astonishing attempt, and with everyone working together they might just have made it, were it not for the unrelenting storm.

With a roar and a loud bang it struck once more and this time the damage was beyond repair. The ship was torn asunder and began to collapse in on itself. With great despair and no time to lose, they flocked towards the lifeboats. Byakuren was one of the first to touch water. It wasn't her choice, and she felt guilty leaving her saviors on the burning wreck, but their pride wouldn't have it any other way. 'Women and children first' and all that. Even so, to survive just because of the way she was born... Her mind soared with conflicting emotions; thankfulness, guilt and many others. A warm hand awoke her from the trance, "It will be okay, we're alive!", a young woman with a forced smile and tears in her eyes. Byakuren felt the girl was speaking just as much to herself, as to her, as if to convince herself that it was the truth. She simply nodded in return, she was thankful to be alive. In the distance they could see what was left of the ship being swallowed up by the dark sea. She never saw the captain or his men ever again.

Lost in thought and praying to whatever gods might be listening, the carriage ride was over before she knew it. She thanked the rider and gave him a deep bow before offering him what little coin she had left from her time working with the fishermen. The sun was starting to set when she reached the entrance to the fort, a chill breeze running through her hair. She pulled the robe closer and tightened the straps as she prepared to enter. Her white dress had become grey with mud and dirt, and her boots were still cold and wet from the sea water. Byakuren hoped there would be someplace to wash her clothes, or better yet a warm new pair she could use for the night. With these thoughts in her head, she took her first step into the fort and her new life as a Stormchaser.

Her prayers had been answered. After introducing herself to one of the staff, she was shown to a room with a small bed and a candle-lit desk. Upon her slightly embarrassing request, she was handed a fresh pair of clothes and swiftly got changed before washing off her own garments. A few weeks had passed since she got back on land, and after following rumors of the Stormchasers' whereabouts, she had tracked down their Grandmaster and enlisted for service. The recruitment was swift and they seemed to accept just about anyone who signed up, which was both worrying and a blessing. Who knows if she'd have passed, had they thoroughly questioned her in their foreign tongue. She was just glad that she had been accepted into their ranks, and she wished to help however possible. Exhausted from the trip, she collapsed on the warm comfy bed and closed her eyes. This was so much better than the hard, bulky ones they had used on the ship. It wasn't the first time she had slept in a bed like this; she had stayed at a military barracks of sorts during the enlistment period. Still, she had yet to get used to it. Back home they slept on matrasses directly on the floor. Tomorrow she'd catch up with the others and do her best to get to know them. She had seen a few of them briefly before, but the only one she had really spoken to was the Grandmaster and she found him a bit hard to talk to. Hopefully things would go smoothly, being on good terms would be vital for survival out in the field. With that, she killed the light and lied back down to sleep.

She awoke to the bright morning-sun, shining through her window. A sweet aroma of freshly baked bread, meat and brew danced through the air. After struggling to get up for a few minutes, she quickly washed herself off and got dressed. A knock on the door brought her face to face with another member of the staff. "Excuse me, miss. There will be a feast in the main hall and you are invited to partake if you wish." The small man gestured down the hall before clearing his throat, about to leave. "Wait!" Byakuren stopped him, "Sorry, I don't understand." she lowered her head, apologetically. The man raised an eyebrow to her strange mannerisms before giving a slight chuckle. "Food. Come eat.", he summarized.

The sight left her astonished once again, something that had started to become a regular occurrence in her short time on Valheim. There were tables lined up in an orderly fashion, each filled to the brim with foreign dishes and brews. Man and beast-folk alike were feasting merrily in all corners of the room, for a moment she could almost forget about the storm outside. Sat in the midst of it all was a tall man with dark skin, bluish hair and deep red eyes, his shoulders draped in clear white silk. He immediately caught Byakuren's attention, as his striking appearance was unmistakable. It was the man known by Osferth Zylavor, the leader of the Stormchasers. Remembering it was rude to stare, she did her best to divert her gaze while slowly approaching him. "I am Byakuren, not sure you remember me", she gave a deep bow, "Sorry I am late!" He looked up at her with a slight confusion on his face, having only just noticed her presence. "Ehrm... Sir!", she added, bowing once more awkwardly. "Oh, no. There's no cause for alarm." he responded. "As you can see our activities have not yet begun. Today is a time to get to know your new comrades, so be at ease.", he motioned with his hand for her to relax. Failing to sense the mood, she gave one final bow before excusing herself.

Properly meeting with her comrades sounded like a wise decision, but where would she begin? She took another quick glance around the room. There were loads of people; soldiers and adventurers from different walks of life. In one corner a young woman clothed in officer's uniform was chatting merrily with what looked to be the head-chef. He was presenting various dishes and she praised him for his handy-work. In another Byakuren could see a tall, toned man and an ashen-haired woman bickering over a couple of drinks. At first look it seemed as if they were arguing, but something told her they were both enjoying it. More of a friendly banter, than anything. One character in particular stood out, it was an armored fellow sitting silently and alone at one of the tables. He was clothed from head to toe in dark iron and spikes. Even his face was hidden behind an imposing visor. Byakuren felt he gave off bad vibes, his armor radiating a sense of dread... Still, she knew better than to judge a book by its cover. They were all Stormchasers, right? All with their own reasons for wanting the storm gone. To be a Stormchaser was to fight for those who couldn't, it took both courage and kindness, so why should he be any different? After collecting her thoughts, she decided this may be as good a place to start as any, and made her way towards the mysterious man.

"Are you not eating?", she asked, sitting down beside him. It was a bit too forward for her tastes, but it seemed to be how most locals did things and she wanted to do her best to fit in. Hoping not to have offended the man, and still slightly weary of his presence she slid further away while carefully studying him. "Not me too; no meat, no drink. It's how I was raised.", she paused. The man did not yet respond, and an awkward silence filled the air around them. Byakuren was not good with small-talk, she never was back home and trying to communicate in a foreign language made it even more difficult. Feeling she might have made a mistake, Byakuren was starting to regret her decision. That's when he finally broke the silence. "The name's Alentiar. It's nice to meet you.", he reached out a gauntlet-clad hand. Byakuren looked down at it for a moment, unfamiliar with the gesture. She then took his hand and gave a quick bow. "I am Byakuren. Good to meet you too!", she smiled.
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Confirmed Memelord
"Alright. Gather 'round and listen you lil' shits."

Anyone listening to Band'lur address the group of small dirty children in front of him, would assume that he didn't like them. His voice was coarse, and even when squatting near the ground, his hulking form towered over them. A scarred face seemed to scowl more than anything down at the children, and the man's eyes glinted keenly as he stared at them. The Lizardman seemed ready to make the gaggle of children his next meal, and worse still, not a single adult working nearby seemed poised to stop him.

None of that mattered to the children, however. They trotted towards Band'lur at the sound of his voice, tumbling over each other like a band of puppies. Bright smiles and gleaming eyes met Band'lur's gaze, and one little girl made it a point to climb on the man's back. She sat up there with her chin propped in both hands, knowing that her bony elbows would do nothing to harm the Beastman's thick skull. The other children crowded closer. A pair reached out to hold each of Band'lur's large hands, mindful of the claws that adorned them. Another clung to his tail like a doll. The children knew what most adults of did not.There was no danger when Band'lur was around, not for them. Certainly not for anyone that truly knew the man.

Which is why each one of the assembled children did their very best to annoy him.

"You shouldn't say shit." The little girl perched on his back said. "That's a bad word."

"It IS a bad word." Band'lur replied. "And you just said it right now, so shut your tiny mouth and listen. I got somethin' important to say."

Another child's hand shot up, the boy looking unbelievably smug for someone that was essentially homeless. "Bandy, you said we were allowed to say one swear word each!" The Lizardman stared at the boy with exasperation written clearly on his scaled face. "On your birthdays! Is it Lucille's birthday?" He paused for a moment, looking thoughtful before reach back and around to pull the girl off of his back and hold her up to his face. "Lucille, is it your birthday?"

The girl shrugged as she dangled there in Band'lur's hands. "I dunno."

The man set her down with the rest of the children and shook his head." Right then. That's a problem I'll leave to your parents. Now listen. Bandy has some business to take care of at the Fort because 'm goin' to deal with this Storm nonsense."

Another girl piped up, eyes gleaming bright with excitement as she stared at the Lizardman. "Are you gonna beat the storm up?"

Band'lur pointed a claw at the girl. "That is not the intent of my trip, but it is absolutely on the table." A small ‘Yes!’ from the girl punctuated the man's statement. "Because as you all know, Band'lur can, and will beat anyone's and anything's ass. And if you kids come across someone that says otherwise, they're a liar, and are not to be trusted under any circumstances." All of the children nodded sagely, as if this was the most reasonable thing in the world to them.

"So while 'm gone you all need to take care of each other. Might be a week. Might be a year. Nobody knows, least of all you lot, since apparently not a one of you can read a damn calendar."

At that, another child's hand shot up and he waved it around excitedly. "There's a man that lives under a bridge at the Citadel, and he says that time isn't real and doesn't matter anyway because every action we take is just another step in the long march towards death."

"Yer gonna stop talkin' to the man under the bridge. And if you see him, you take a long march in the opposite direction. ‘m also gonna ask your parents why they’re letting you talk to homeless men under bridges.” The Lizardman said sternly. The boy only huffed in mild consternation amidst giggles from his peers and lowered his hand.

The Lizardman stood with a sigh, and an audible creaking of his knees. A few of the children laughed at and the Lizardman hushed them. "Be quiet, else I'll start puntin' you over the wall. The condition of a man’s bones is no laughing matter!" He did not want to linger for too long. Saying goodbye to the Children was never enjoyable and Band'lur knew that this time he'd be gone for far longer than any of them were prepared for. The longer he stretched the ordeal, the harder it would be to leave and Band'lur could slowly feel his resolve crumbling.

"C'mere. Give ol' Bandy a hug. There we go." He chuckled gruffly as a mass of limbs assaulted his legs and patted the children's heads one by one. "Be good. Listen to your Elders, especially on your way back to the Citadel. Now get outta here, 'm sick of lookin' at you." He sent the gaggle of children away amidst a chorus of screams and laughter. They disappeared from the man's sight almost immediately, but he could still hear their crowing for a while after.

Band'lur was positive that he would miss that sound most of all.

The Lizardman hadn't really intended to grow as fond of him as he did. Their presence was merely a result of their parent's work. Merchants and Carpenters. Stone Masons and Smithys. People went where the work was, if the pay was good and the way was safe. The Storm's frequent strikes and the upheaval each event left behind ground trade to a halt in many places. It wasn't uncommon for entire families to set out on the road to make ends meet.

The only place remotely safe outside of the Citadel was the newly refurbished Zeldem. Why wouldn't someone want their children safe and sound behind four sturdy walls? All the better that the Realm's soon to be heroes would be there as well.

Band'lur played less the part of hero for the children, and more an oversized babysitter while their parents worked. The Lizardman didn't mind. Children were energetic and infinitely curious, and he was glad to keep them company when no other duties called to him. Playing silly games and regaling them with the tall tales passed down through the generations within his own clan. It was enough at least, to keep them preoccupied and free from the considerations of the ever darkening skies above them. Those were the sort of grim thoughts best left to their elders.

Band'lur hurried along towards Zeldem with more haste than he was accustomed to. It wouldn't do to be late meeting with his compatriots, especially when breakfast was sure to be on the table.

Zeldem was in its own way ostentatious, but nearly everything that wasn't a tent and a bedroll stuck the Lizardman as unnecessary. Everything looked new, even if it was immeasurably old, proof of the efforts many had put in to revive the abandoned Fortress to its former glory.

It was still a great deal more rustic than the Imperial Castle that rested at the Citadel's center. From what little of it he'd seen during his time there, the stones in the walls and floors shone with glistening polish, and Band'lur had to fight back the urge to punch everyone and everything around him. It was all rather jarring to the man's humble sensibilities. Stones were meant to be left in the dirt where you found them. Sometimes you picked them up and hurled them at people you didn't like. And if you found one that was round and smooth, you gave it to the person you fancied.

But you didn't cut and arrange them into tiles, and you certainly didn't POLISH them.

The regular click-clack of Band'lur's clawed feet on the flagstones heralded his arrival well before his tremendous bulk did. The people milling around were quick to move from his path. Not because the Lizardman was the sort to shove people out of the way for daring the stand in his way. He'd simply caught the scent of the meal awaiting him inside and getting between Band'lur and his next meal was asking to be trampled over.

The Lizardman nearly bounded over the threshold and into Zeldum's main entrance hall. Breakfast was close and Band'lur would be damned if he missed out. He spied two figures ambling along, speaking amicably and the Beastman could just barely recall the names that matched their individual smells. He hadn’t gotten much opportunity to speak with the people he'd soon be working alongside, and normally Band'lur would try to change that. But the nature and purpose of his training, alongside helping the volunteers outside when he could, left him little time to socialize.

Even then, with the opportunity he could not muster the wherewithal to do so. He'd smelled bacon, and nothing would stop him from shoving as much of it into his mouth as humanly possible.

Instead, he bustled past the two with a brief acknowledgement and a warning.

"ello there Cecie, Sennen. You'd better get a move on, else there won't be nothin' but crumbs left for the two of ya." The Lizardman guffawed as he sped down the hall, skidding only to a halt just outside the doors of the dining hall. He peered inside, eyeing the food laden tables with a mixture of awe and shock. The food laden tables were fit to topple under the weight of the dishes set atop them. He could only surmise that such a feast had to do with their impending departure. An army couldn't very well march on an empty stomach and small as their army was, they'd need the strength for whatever awaited them beyond the fortress walls.

Band'lur knew intrinsically that there was enough for everyone present, but a lifetime of thin pickings in the peaks and the occasional scuffle over what food was to be found had instilled in the man a certain instinct for getting fed before most everyone else. He didn't think he had to fight anyone for a meal in the future, save for perhaps Lupa and Vivienne given that they were Beastfolk like himself. The Wolf was....odd however, for one of his kind and Band'ur wasn't even sure if the Centaur could eat anything other than grass. He'd have to ask her later.

Snorting harshly through his nose, Band'lur shook his head to clear such nonsensical thoughts from his mind. It was not the time to consider how strange or not strange his fellow Stormchasers were. He could do that after breakfast.

Finding a free platter and a seat wasn't hard to do, but the Lizardman had little desire to feast alone. Beastfolk weren't overwhelmingly common in the cities and towns, preferring to stick to the wilderness. Band'lur was always glad to meet another, happy to share and hear the news that was specific to those regions. From the wolves he'd met, they were a sociable if proud people. He recalled they were mostly nomadic and followed the migratory paths of deer and elk, though they had plenty of permanent settlements of their own. Lupa seemed to be of the latter.

Which would probably explain why she was so damn short. The poor girl clearly didn't get enough exercise as a child and she'd missed out on a few inches of height.

It was a tragedy.

Band’lur waved at the woman and beckoned her to sit in his usual boisterous manner. " 'ey there! C'mon and eat, there's plenty to share. We'll see if we can get some meat on your bones yet." The Lizardman guffawed and thumped his own broad stomach as if to illustrate his point.
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angry fluff
Sennen Heydari
Location: Fort Zeldem
Interactions: what_if what_if (Cecie) Ramjammer Ramjammer (Band'lur)​

"Well, I've been mostly..." Sennen started to say, before being interrupted by the heavy footsteps coming from behind him. It was Band'lur, speeding towards the dining hall. "Hello there Cecie, Sennen. You'd better get a move on, else there won't be nothin' but crumbs left for the two of ya." He said, barely slowing down, if at all. The lizards attitude irked Sennen, but he was almost as quick to forget than he was to anger, and he was not the type to hold grudges. "Let's get a move on, I ain't letting that fat-ass get all the good meat." he said to Cecie as he picked up his pace.


Once in the dining hall, he noticed a lot of the Stormchasers had already gathered and a feast was prepared on the table. A purple haired woman Sennen had never seen before was talking to some of them, so Sennen took the opportunity to take the best cuts of meat remaining to himself. He then carried his overfilled plate to the nearest seat and started chomping down his food, while looking around the room to see how the situation developed.


Vivienne Yvarra
Arriving at Fort Zeldem​

The pre-dawn sky was still a deep shade of bluish purple as the Fort came into view. It appeared as little more than a shadowy silhouette, backlit by the storm’s churning heart. Dangerous clouds swirled overhead, looming like a monolithic beast, daring anyone brave enough to end its stranglehold on Valheim's once-peaceful skies. Vivienne gazed up at its splendor as she crested the final hill. She moved at a slow trot, her hooves rhythmically beating the dirt road, her white hair rippling in the breeze.

Her arrival marked the end of one journey and the start of another. She was returning from her last trip to the Citadel. Despite being accepted into the ranks of the Stormchasers, Vivienne had spent the last few weeks aiding the volunteers and laborers. Someone seemed to think Fort Zeldem needed a lot of work to live up to its new role. Cleaning. Polishing. Addition of new wings and modern amenities. Frankly, she thought the place was fine as it was, but one should not look a gift horse in the mouth. If they were going to save the world, they might as well do so in comfort, right? A warm bed? Running water? A training area? A well-stocked library? Yes, yes, and oh god, yes!

But the materials for this had to come from someplace. For weeks, wagons had run back and forth between Zeldem and the Citadel, all day and all night, ferrying lumber, metals, perishables, workers, and all sorts of raw materials. Considering this was her area of expertise and the Stormchasers did not yet have any specific orders or duties, Vivienne joined in on the 'fun.' She spent relatively little time at the Fort, preferring instead to meld herself into the logistical spider's web that had formed between Zeldem and the Citadel. She constantly traveled back and forth between the two settlements and spent more time on the road than in the Fort.

The way Vivienne saw it, she would have plenty of time to get to know her fellow Stormchasers later on, but only a few weeks to meet each volunteer, of which there were hundreds. These were the people they had gathered here to protect. Getting to know each and every one of them was more important that milling around the Fort, training, or relaxing in her quarters. She needed to burn their names and faces into her mind, to give her something to cling to in dark times. There would almost certainly be dark times ahead.

That’s not to say she didn’t meet any of her comrades. One morning, she encountered a lady archer, Cecie, sinking arrows into the targets. Viv found her accuracy impressive and, although they only exchanged a few pleasantries and basic introductions, made a mental note to ask for some pointers later. She also discovered there was a lady-wolf with an impeccable morning routine. Viv’s travels often had her coming into and out of Fort Zeldem before sunrise, but the wolf was always up before the rooster crows. Vivienne never approached her, but discovered her name through word-of-mouth: Lupa. If nothing else, she was disciplined and Viv respected that. Perhaps she was disciplined enough that their respective blood would not be an issue. If it took the end of the world for a wolf and a reindeer to become friends, so be it. Viv made a mental note to try, someday… just not right now.

I’m not scared or anything, she thought every time she saw Lupa and casually moved to the other side of the street. Just... not now. Later. I’m busy, is all. So busy.

But there were some members of the group who did legitimately worry her. A suit of black armor had been seen roaming the grounds. Allegedly, there was a person or person-shaped entity inside, but who could say for certain? As time went on, the rumors grew absurd. Was it a man? A woman? A demon? A captive ghost? A vengeful spirit? The storm itself, bottled in blackened steel? Two dwarves playing an elaborate prank? Vivienne didn’t know, and was fortunate enough to have not actually seen this one, only heard about him / her / it. And she was satisfied with keeping it that way.

And then there was the lizardman, the alleged breaker of walls, whose personality was even larger than his stature. Vivienne was fairly certain he hadn’t knocked down any walls. Maybe a weathered old fence or two, at best. But who was she to call the man a liar? He seemed pleasant enough the first time they met; very jovial. Children seemed to like him and he liked them -- and not in a “for dinner” sort of way. None had gone missing (yet). His larger-than-life persona made her suspicious of him, as if she expected there to be a deep, dark, secret under it all. But, so far, she could find no reason not to take him at face value. So, Viv pretty much let sleeping not-quite-dragons lie, as they say. He was harmless… or as harmless as a big scaly fella the size of a wagon can be.

Other than the select few she had shared a few words with, Vivienne often wondered if the majority of the Stormchasers even knew she was 'one of them.' She was away so much, she might as well have not been here at all the last few weeks. Now the setup was coming to an end and the real struggles would begin. In another day or so, the volunteers and laborers would be all gone. Only the chosen few would remain, including her. Viv couldn’t cling to what she knew anymore. Everything from here was a journey into the unknown.

Frankly, even she hadn't fully come to terms with the fact that she had signed up for this... whatever this is. She had plenty of time to reflect on it, as she galloped along the well-worn road between Zeldem and the capital -- a road now so familiar she could traverse it with her eyes closed -- but it still felt surreal. Crazy storm overhead, even crazier people all around her. What are you doing here, Viv? she thought as she crossed the massive gates. The sun, or what little remained of it, had just begun to rise.

She was home. And there was no turning back now.


Through adversity to the stars.

INTERACTIONS: Sinful Sorcerer Sinful Sorcerer

His armor wouldn't have made it obvious. But Alentiar's gaze was following the atmosphere of the hall calmly from his own seat, realizing how euphoric it was due to the amounts of different characters that were present in the dining room, occupied with comestibles that simply added on to that said delight. Somewhere in his mind, he wanted to approach the main event and become the charismatic star that he once used to be, imagining himself boosting the morale of his comrades with jokes and playful banter, as he used to be.

The first individual to have caught Alentiar's attention was the Lizardman of colossal body size. Alentiar was careful with his examinations during his first days, so he knew of his identity via eavesdropping on others accidentally. His name was still foreign to the mercenary who normally has trouble with names, but he couldn't mistake the Lizardman with anyone else. Not because of the repugnant hostile behavior that you would normally expect from a beast like him, but rather, because of how lively and charismatic he was according to the others.

Lupa was another one of Alentiar's familiarities, whose name had only reached his memories due to their formal introduction during their first days in the fort. Though, to say that they have spoken with each other extensively would be an obvious lie. As if Alentiar had the integrity to strike a conversation with someone who seemed to boast a high-class value for themselves - especially when it was deserving. But the mercenary was used to judging someone by their speech patterns, and from the looks of it, that'd probably get him in trouble soon.

The other individual that had caught his attention was the centaur. She was stunningly beautiful and seemed graceful to the core. But that was everything Alentiar could say regarding that person, without sounding contentious. There would undoubtedly be times when they'd have to rely on each other during the upcoming battles within the Roaring Sky, but that could be said with everyone in the room - and with that crossing his mind, Alentiar could ease himself a bit knowing that it was simply a matter of time. He would much rather get to know someone on the battlefield, under the influence of adrenaline while clashing his sword with their mutual enemies.

A few additional minutes passed until Alentiar would be met with a surprise.

"Are you not eating?"


"Not me too; no meat, no drink. It's how I was raised."

Her voice was soothing, to say the least. But this was their first encounter, and it wasn't like for Alentiar to be greeted by someone completely unknown to him. He mildly began to panic, though no soul would ever notice in their perspective. He opened his mouth to respond to her friendly introduction, but no words came out for what seemed like an eternity. Was he shy? No, he couldn't be. If there were one of the few personality adjectives that wouldn't describe the Steelborne Mercenary, it was being diffident about his conversational skills.

"The name's Alentiar. It's nice to meet you."

The most basic form of a formal introduction slipped out of his mouth like an autonomous instinct. It was as if his brain pushed those words out after it mentally sighing with its host's incompetence, not wanting to hear its pathetic excuses any longer as it forced an involuntary vocal movement.

"I am Byakuren. Good to meet you too!"

Alentiar's body temporarily stunned itself, his active blood flow pausing all movement as he remained static like a stone, not expecting a casual reply like that. It was a given that any normal person would've responded like she had, but wasn't this a bit... too elementary? Or it was entirely possible that Alentiar simply lost his touch with reality long ago, and sparking up this conversation was an unknown remedy to heal him back to health, at least on the conversational bit.

The mercenary let his vocal cords do the work, as he allowed his mouth hidden behind the black steel to do the talking without thinking about his words first.

"You look... unusual. I haven't seen you around in the fortress before, especially someone who possessed that colored hair."

Now that Alentiar was able to calm himself after a short while, he had just noticed her unknown presence, albeit something seemed unusual during her debut into the dining room. The shade of purple that had taken over her luscious hair was something that he wouldn't be able to forget for an extensive amount of time. Along with the hospitable gaze that came from her pair of eyes, Byakuren seemed like someone who he wouldn't mind getting to know in the long run.

She seemed kind and modest. An individual of honesty and labor of love, instead of greed and deception.

"Regardless, it's my pleasure."

Yeah, he didn't mind the company of this person.
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Sinful Sorcerer

Touhou Enthusiast
Byakuren Hijiri
Location: Fort Zeldem
Interactions: Xethyrion Xethyrion {Alentiar}
"You look... unusual."

'Unusual?' Byakuren thought to herself, causing her to pause for a moment. It wasn't that she had taken offense to what Alentiar had said, but simply that she needed some time to process the phrase. Her language lessons with the fishermen flashed by in her mind. If she remembered correctly, 'Un-' was something you'd put before a word to invert its meaning, and 'Usual' was something akin to 'Normal'; a thing or state of being that one faced on a regular basis. So he must have meant that she was 'Not normal', or 'Strange'. She pondered for a little while, thinking how best to respond.

"I haven't seen you around in the fortress before, especially someone who possessed that colored hair."

She nodded, unconsciously. Still deep in thought and only half listening, a bad habit she'd picked up but would hopefully be rid off one day.

"Regardless, it's my pleasure."

"Ah," Realizing the man had finished talking, signaling her turn to continue the conversation, she was taken aback slightly. Ashamed of her wandering mind, she tried to respond quickly and properly. "Yes, I are-", she stumbled over her words, "I am a bit new here." She wanted to elaborate without divulging more information than was necessary. It wasn't that she didn't trust him... Okay, maybe it was in part that she didn't yet trust him. But primarily it was that she didn't want to confuse or bore him with trivial details. "My home is," another brief pause, "or was, far from here, on an island in the eastern sea. I hope to return there one day, but first I need to deal with the storm somehow. It took a lot from me."

Glancing up at the man slightly, she did her best to read his body-language. The armor obscured much, and not being able to see his face made it harder still. Even so she wanted to understand him, however little, because she found that understanding was the first step towards building trust. And they would need to trust each other if they were to work together. Curious about his own situation but not wanting to pry, she attempted to re-direct the topic a little. "I think it took something dear from all of us. And not just the Stormchasers, but everyone outside too. That is why we have to stop the storm!" Her eyes gave off a spark of hope, a sensation she hadn't felt in a long while.

"I'm not sure how, but I know we will make it somehow. There are many strong people here. I haven't spoken to everyone yet but I can tell they are amazing in some way!" Byakuren looked down to the man sitting down at the table, and only just noticed that she had unknowingly stood up from the excitement. She could feel glances from around the room pointed in her direction. She must have raised her voice without realizing it. A little embarrassed, she sat back down and finished her speech, this time carefully noting the volume of her voice. "So, let us do our best. If we all work together, nothing could stop us!"

She thought back to the woman in the lifeboat, the one who had encouraged her when things were at their worst. She remembered thinking that the woman was speaking just as much to herself, as to Byakuren. Perhaps she was doing the same thing now; desperately trying to convince herself of something and hoping that by doing so, she could somehow make that the truth. Honestly; despite trying her best to be optimistic, things were looking rather bleak. She wasn't lying about the Stormchasers having a lot of talented members among its ranks. But no matter how much strength, skill or courage one might have, it would be impossible to solve a task without knowing what that task was in the first place. She hoped someone here might have some idea of where to start but even if they didn't, they'd find a way. They had to, countless lives were depending on it.
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Osferth Zylavor
Location: Fort Zeldem

After hearing the beastfolk's compliment, a hearty smile appeared on Numan's face - not that his rather festive feelings weren't obvious enough. Followed by yet another chuckle.

"I'm glad you like how it turned out, Miss Lupa.", the cook said. "I hope the taste would satisfy your expectations."

"I'm quite confident it will.", Osferth interjected. "You've served us fulfilling meals in the time you spent here, this feast would clearly be on par with them, if not better."

Numan paused silently for a bit. He had conversed with the Grandmaster on several occasions, and still, the man's words just had a rather strong impact on him - comments such as what he had said were clearly things that Numan would remember for the passing ages. Perhaps that was why he had been given such a task, a man with such a level of charisma was clearly fit for the job.

"I'm honored to hear that!", Numan responded.

Sadly, their chatter would be cut short, as one of Numan's crew would whisper in his ear and notify him of certain things that must be done in the kitchen.

"You'll have to excuse me for now. There are still some things I have to take care of.", Numan said with a bow.

"Now I'm getting quite concerned. There are still more to come? Are perhaps you trying to feed us to death?", Osferth gave a laugh.

"Perhaps, sir!", Numan jested in response, before leaving with his crewman.

Left in the company of Lupa, Osferth's attention turned to her. From the papers he had read, the beastfolk share with him some similar experiences - most of which involve serving in the imperial military. She seemed to hold quite the potential in the Grandmaster's eyes, like fine clay ready and willing to be molded into a mesmerizing art piece.

"So, Lupa, how have you found the Stormchasers so far?", he addressed her, as he took a quick sip from one of the many wine glasses placed on the table he sat on. "It's merely been a few weeks, but I'd still like to know what you think."

Interaction/s: Lupa ( Silver Wolf Silver Wolf )


~ what if I fall ~ what if I fly ~
Location: Fort Zeldem - Dining Hall
Interaction/s: Cauldhill Cauldhill {Sennen} Ramjammer Ramjammer {Band'lur}
Cecie had stopped paying attention to Sennen as the sound of thundering footsteps grew nearer. She turned to see a large lizard-man barreling down the hall. Quickly she flattened herself against the wall as he rushed past.
"'Ello there Cecie, Sennen. You'd better get a move on, else there won't be nothin' but crumbs left for the two of ya." He said without slowing down.

Sennen quickened his pace.
"Let's get a move on, I ain't letting that fat-ass get all the good meat."

Cecie didn't pick up the pace, she broke into a full sprint. "I'll eat yer tail if there ain't no food left!" She called after Band'lur, who was already a good distance away.

...Bursting into the dining hall a few steps behind, she paused to let her breath catch up. As she gathered herself, Cecie surveyed the room. There were already a number of Stormchasers there. A large suit of armor was talking to a woman with purple hair while Osferth and Lupa seemed to be discussing something important with one of the staff. The sight of the staff tugged at the back of her mind. Was she forgetting something? Whatever it was, it probably wasn't important. She saw that Band'lur and Sennen were already seated with their food. Cecie grabbed the nearest plate and wandered about the room, piling various delectables onto it. Once she had made a satisfactory pile, she sat near the two of them and proceeded to shovel sausages and cheese into her mouth.

She paused only once to give Band'lur a mock stink-eye. "So now there's food for everyone, eh?"

Silver Wolf

Something Random
Location: Fort Zeldem
Interactions: Reinhardt Reinhardt (Osferth)
Nearby/Mentioned: Everyone

The young officer chuckled heartily at Numan's response to Osferth's question. She looked over to where the large lizard was already getting to the meal and didn't think too much food would be an issue. Despite being hungry herself she hadn't made a move to the meal yet. For her there would be proper motions, and the one thing was a simple ritual. Lupa made a move to sit down, but before she could pull her hands together Osferth raised a question. His question made Lupa look around the room a little bit. She thought for a moment, considering her words. Once she found them, she turned to Osferth and spoke.

"Perhaps the right thing to do would be to withhold judgement. At least if you're speaking about our comrades. One should never be judgemental of those they have to trust, and much more so if that trust means putting your success and life in their hands. As for the Stormchasers as an organization, well I can only say we should keep our goals to heart. Although," Lupa paused and looked around the room again. "I never saw this much diversity in the military. Sure, one could find people from all walks of life, but that mostly applied to humans and sometimes others such as beastfolk like myself."

Lupa turned back to the table and pulled her hands together, "But give me a moment if you don't mind. I'm fairly hungry." She then closed her eyes and began, "O Aestera, Sleeping Lady and giver of gifts, I thank thee for this meal, as a gift that I might sustain my life and use it to give back." As soon as she opened her eyes she piled lobs of braised meat and organs such as liver onto her plate along with a few vegetables such as potatoes, broccoli, and even a collection of beans. Somehow all those things were in an oddly orderly form on the plate. They were also collected very fast and she had managed to claim a piece of liver after Brand'lur's eyes had fallen on it. After she took a bite, it was clear to see the joy on her face. She kicked her feat under the table as her cheeks went red and plump. "Who needs expensive choice cuts when you can just take other delicious parts the lords don't want."

Lupa took a wine glass and raised it high up, yelling, "To Numan for this great feast, and to a new order! Let's kick this damned storm out of the sky!"

Once she lowered her wine glass, she took a large sip and began rather rapidly consuming her plate while also somehow managing to keep all basic table manners into play. Of course, she couldn't match a giant lizard in eating speed, but that was irrelevant. Despite being engrossed in her food, she looked around towards anyone that might have responded. Not that she expected everyone to be as enthusiastic as her, but she definitely hoped some would at least see her in a light they may not have thought of before. From here on, they would all need to trust each other, even if some would rather not. She did hope she would be able to form bonds with everyone, it was always more fun to be around people whose company you enjoyed.


Vivienne Yvarra
Arriving at Fort Zeldem

The streets were still dimly-lit as Vivienne made her way toward the stables, pulling a rather large covered wagon. She had transported about two dozen people on a one-way trip to the Citadel. They chatted about their families, their hopes and dreams. The trip had been fun and full of life. She still remembered each of their names and faces. Now, the carriage was empty. Dead air and silence were her only cargo. Its wheels rattled like hollow bones.

As Vivienne trotted into Fort Zeldem’s rather large stables, she spotted a young attendant sitting on a stool near the door. He appeared to be asleep on the job, his head bowed, his small body slumped against the wall. But he startled when she drew nearer. He snorted, wiped the sleep from his eyes, blinked at her twice.

Viv knew that look too well. The slack-jawed expression on his face screamed, that’s no horse… what should I do? This wasn’t in the training! She thought she had met all of the workers in Zeldem’s stables by now, but she must have missed this one. Maybe he was new or apprenticing under one of the veterans.

“Oh, don’t mind me,” the centaur said with a friendly smile as she expertly backed the large wagon into one of the berths and began extricating herself from the rigging. “Get some rest, young man. I can handle this. And good morning, by the way,” she added, with a small wave and a fluttering of her fingertips in his direction.

To his credit, the boy hopped down from his perch and approached. Not doing his job was out of the question. While Vivienne put away the rigging, he chocked the wagon’s wheels, then climbed inside to gather up the cushions and blankets that had been used to convert this cargo wagon into a passenger vehicle.

He was neatly folding each piece when he said to her, “I heard about you. You’re bigger than they said. Like, reeeeally big.”

“That’s not a nice thing to say to a lady,” Vivienne replied, stifling a small laugh.

“I bet you could beat Band. He’s big, too, but not as big as you.”

Oh, great, it’s one of the lizard’s kids, Vivienne thought, but her smile did not falter. She gave him a sidelong glance. “Well, I’m not a wall, so…”

“I bet you could beat the storm. You got really big swords and a big bow.”

“No one person is big enough to do that, no matter how many swords and bows they may have” Vivienne said with a playful wink. By now, the boy was done. She hoisted him down from the cart and gently set him on the ground before kneeling to look him in the eyes. “But together, maybe we can chase it out of Valheim,” she said with a playful wink.

“Nah, you guys are gonna kick that shitstorm’s ass!” the boy said, grinning from ear to ear as he shook his tiny fist at the air.

Vivienne was momentarily appalled, but slowly just smiled and shook her head. “Right… we certainly shall.” That damn lizard…. ugh, I mean, that ‘darn’ lizard. She sighed as she stood up once more, rising to her full height. “What’s your name, young man?”

His answer spilled out in one unbroken breath, as if he’d been holding it in for ages: “My friends call me Raf me and my pa ride for the city at noon an’ he said I can work the stables I hope I see more big horsies like you.”

“Well, actually, I’m a… nevermind. Vivienne Yvarra,” she said, bowing elegantly. “The pleasure is all mine, young Raf. I wish you well on your journey, but I’m afraid I must be on my way.”

“Aye. Big lady got big things to do. I get it,” he said.

* * *​

Vivienne returned to her quarters to change out of her riding gear. She could not recall the last time she had a proper home, other than her abandoned house up north. She generally slept in inns, if they would have her, or stables if they would not. Occasionally, she rented a small corner of a storehouse. For shelter, she required little, so anything would do. But the people behind the Stormchasers made it clear she would receive equal treatment, whether she wanted it or not.

Her room was large and situated closest to the stables, yet still in the same building the others lived in. She hadn’t taken much time to decorate or personalize it. Her bed was little more than a large, mattress-like cushion placed on the floor, covered in sheets and blankets, which was exactly how she liked it. Viv removed her travel pack and harness, along with her sword and bow, and deposited them in a corner. She spent the next hour or so washing, brushing out her hair and fur, as well as trimming her antlers, before changing into a simple sweater and duster.

By the time she was done, the scent of food was heavy in the air. Numan and his people never disappointed, though the scent was a little different today, stronger than usual. Viv left her residence and followed her nose to the mess hall. During her time in her room, the Fort had begun to rouse from its slumber. The sun was up now and people were out. Her hooves clopped happily on the flagstones as she moved amongst them, stopping occasionally to greet those she recognized. As she drew nearer to the mess hall, she spotted Cecie and a man slowly making their way along. Band’lur appeared shortly afterward, moving at a much swifter pace. Even from a great distance, Vivienne could make out his booming voice and laughter as he greeted the pair before overtaking them and marching inside. Even she couldn’t help but smirk a little at that.

Today felt different, somehow. It felt better. The mild melancholy of her last journey from the Capital lifted slowly, like parting clouds after a storm. And, yes, Band’lur played a small part in that, she had to admit. But it was so much more than him.

Vivienne glided into the mess hall just as Lupa finished her toast. “Well said, dear. Well said,” she replied, giving a small round of applause as she entered the room, taking it all in. The grandmaster was present, situated near the wolf girl; Vivienne met them with a smile and a deferential bowing of her head. A purple-haired girl was speaking to… the suit of black armor she had heard so much about! So, he is real. Wow. Viv's only greeting to them was a brief look of mild shock, which quickly morphed back into her usual facial expression. Cecie and her new friend were seated and digging into their meals, as was the lizardman. "Cecie... sir... Band'lur. Good day to you all," she said as she passed the trio. So many pieces were coming together, in one room. Today was definitely special.

The centaur took her time gathering her meal. Appearing hungry or overly eager simply wouldn’t do, so she took all the time in the world, getting a little of this and a little of that. Meat. Fruit. Vegetables. Bread. Dessert. Anyone who watched closely would note the ratio of sweets to 'normal' food was slightly higher than it should be. But there was no need to overload her plate because she knew she would be going back for seconds, possibly thirds. Maybe fourths, when no one’s looking.

Once her plate was adequately filled, she headed over to the lizardman. Vivienne carefully set down her plate and glass, removed a chair and placed it near the wall, then knelt down where the chair had been, lowering her reindeer bulk all the way to the floor, which put her at approximately the same height as the seated humanoids. She took her sweet time doing this, got comfortable, and then, at last, turned to him with a nod and a simple greeting:

“Band’lur... I met a delightful little stable boy this morning,” She began carving up her meat into bite-sized slices. "Charming young lad. He seemed quite enamored with you and is thoroughly convinced you are going to -- and I quote -- 'kick this shitstorm's ass.'" She stifled a giggle. "I've no idea what spell you've cast over these children, but I fear it's beginning to work on me too."

Pretty much everyone...

Direct Interactions:
Silver Wolf Silver Wolf (Lupa)
Ramjammer Ramjammer (Band'lur)
Cauldhill Cauldhill (Sennen)
what_if what_if (Cecie)​
Last edited:


Confirmed Memelord
Band forumpost.pngBand'lur Wallbreaker
Mentions: AnonyMouse AnonyMouse Silver Wolf Silver Wolf what_if what_if Cauldhill Cauldhill

He barely noticed the approaching footsteps in the midst of feasting. It was only when a plate slammed down heavily nearby did Band'lur cease his attempt to swallow an entire cheese wheel whole and flashed Cecie a toothy grin.

"There's enough for everyone if yer fast enough Miss." He rumbled good naturedly. He resumed chewing on the cheese wheel momentarily, his scaled face taking on a thoughtful look. "Still, we don't know where and when we'llbe getting our next meal once we set out. Animals don't like noise yanno? Wherever the Storm strikes, they tend to flee."

Sour as his thoughts were, Band'lur refused to let them darken his mood too much. He had signed up for the task after all. Instead he settled for looking at Ciecie and Sennen in turn, eyes alight with curiosity.

"So what do you two think of all this? What do you expect we'll find when we get to the heart of this mess?"

He'd of course, heard many theories and opinions on the matter. Fimbulstormr wasn't exactly something one could ignore, and people needed any reason they could to justify the damn thing uprooting their lives. Each theory ran the gamut from perfectly logical, to downright impossible. Some said that the Storm hid a mighty Dragon at its heart, a beast who's magical might was so great it could warp the mana inherent in all things around it and change the weather.

One of the more reasonable sorts of explanations that the Lizardman had heard from a Mage that Fimbulstomr was a mana explosion of sorts. A Leyline put under extreme duress and rupturing on a catastrophic level. He then launched into an hour long lecture on the matter of Leylines and their usage, and while Band'lur was by no means a fool the man used a lot of words he had no hope of understanding.

Most people settled on the idea that the Gods were simply pissed at them for some reason and left it at that.

By far, the strangest theory he'd heard, and perhaps the most chilling interaction he had on the mattercame from a woman with a sword at her hip and the gaze of predator.

"The Storm doesn't hide a dragon. Fimbulstormr is the Dragon." The Lizardman had naturally been confused by the concept. Dragons weren't real to begin with, and how could one be a storm as well as a dragon?

She'd remained eerily silent for a time, eyeing the Beastman is cold silence before averting her gaze to scan the shuffling masses of the Citadel.

"Either by it's will or our own ignorance, Fimbulstormr is not as it appears. We have been blinded by the chaos it sows, but in the times ahead we will all be enlightened." The stare the woman shot Band'lur gave him the creeps and the Lizardman's scale began to tingle in the way they only could when he found himself in danger. If the odd human had been aware of her effect on him, she hadn't shown it then.

"The Storm's jaws close steadily around the throat of the world, and when they snap shut for good an end will be met. For who, I don't know, but I will find a vantage point to watch it from."

She'd spun on her heel without another world and stalked into the throngs of people making their way through the Citadel's streets, and was soon gone from his sight. The encounter had left Band'lur shaken, confused, and more than a little concerned about his talent for attracting the weirdest possible people.

In the end, Band'lur had settled on Mana and Leylines being the root cause of the issue, it made the most sense as far as he could tell.

The sighed and scratched his chin. "Some guy I talked to once said that it's a mana explosion or somethin'. I 'aint a Mage of any sort, but he was and it seems to make sense. I mean, nothin' about this thing is natural." Without his intention, the Lizardman's voice had dropped a few octaves and he spoke almost conspiratorially.

"Maybe it was caused by like, a REALLY powerful Mage. They messed up some kind of Incantation they had no business playin' around with and started all this nonsense."

The Lizardman's words cut off as his eyes snapped over to see Lupa snatching up a Liver he'd been saving for later. In the Peaks such an offense would have led to several insults about the perpatrator and the nature of their mother's looks, but Band'lur was in polite company and didn't want to appear rude. Besides, Lupa really did need to eat more if she was going to stand a chance of being as big as he was, and so he settled for flicking his long lizard tongue at her in a petulant manner. "Lil' sneak."

He did however, have the presence of mind to raise his own mug of ale at her. "I dunno about kicking the Storm outta the sky, but we can sure try eh?"

If Band'lur had possessed ears they'd have perked up at the clopping of approaching hooves. The Reindeer, Vivienne was the only member of the Stormchasers that beat the Lizardman in height. He was never quite sure if he should have been angry about that, or congratulate her on the feat. Offering the woman a nod in greeting, Band'lur shifted his chair over to allow her room to sit. He almost toppled over on the process as it was comically small compared to the rest of him and perching on it was a serious effort.

His tail thumped against the floor happily as he continued to shovel food into his mouth. If they were ever sucessful in displelling the Storm, the Beastman was positive that the rest of his Clan would be jealous to learn of all the food he'd been allowed to eat.

"Oh no, what if I turn civilized and start wearin' shirts and talkin' all fancy?" The man's thought was sudden and greatly concerning. Band'lur quickly assured himself that he would never let such a fate befall him as wearing shoes was a fate worse than death.

His theoretical ears perked up once more at the sound of Vivienne's voice. The Lizardman chuckled gruffly, setting down a large mutton chop and turning slightly to face the woman.

"Aww did he really say that? Bless his lil' heart." His grin turned somewhat sheepish however as it seemed the woman didn't quite approve of the child's particular language. Language he'd undoubtedly learned from Band'lur.

"Look, kids always copy what they hear. I can't be keepin' track of which of those little ankle biters is learnin' which words. Besides, and extensive vocabulary is good for 'em. Makes 'em sound all smart."

It was unknown where the Lizardman got the idea that a string of expletives made a child sound smarter, and he was either unwilling or unable to say.

Band'lur made a sound halfway between a snort and a laugh. "I am gonna miss those little brats." He sighed and pushed his empty plate away, though it would soon be full once more. "'sides, that's not what needs talkin' about." The Beastman waggled his ridged eyebrows at Vivienne. "I was just askin' this lot what they thought about the Storm, where it came from and such. What's your take? Some folks say the Gods are right mad at us and that's why it's here."


Vivienne Yvarra
At the Mess Hall​

"Aww did he really say that? Bless his lil' heart," the lizardman replied. For the briefest moment, he almost seemed reticent. "Look, kids always copy what they hear. I can't be keepin' track of which of those little ankle biters is learnin' which words. Besides, and extensive vocabulary is good for 'em. Makes 'em sound all smart."

“Riiiight… ‘smart,’” Vivienne said, the word coming out in a breathy sigh. She briefly met his eyes before returning her attention to her meal, which she was consuming at a far slower rate than him.

She wasn’t quite sure what she expected to happen. Band’lur was Band’lur. It’s not as if he was going to change. If anything, she found herself beginning to respect that aspect of him. Her belief that he was hiding something behind his friendly façade eroded more and more every day. And then, he said something that surprised her:

"I am gonna miss those little brats," he confessed with a sigh as he pushed away his empty plate. "'sides, that's not what needs talkin' about. I was just askin' this lot what they thought about the Storm, where it came from and such. What's your take? Some folks say the Gods are right mad at us and that's why it's here."

“Hmmm… I have heard this theory before,” Vivienne said, briefly putting her meal on hold so she could give the question her undivided attention. “I may be betraying my age by saying this, but I have traveled the length and breadth of this continent numerous times, from sea to sea, and I have seen many things that would inspire righteous anger. There are great injustices taking place every day, in all corners of the world. There is a lot to be angry about. There is love and kindness and generosity, too, but still... so much evil.

“But, it has always been my belief that anger is a human emotion. Gods don’t get 'angry,'” she said with a slight shrug. “What we perceive as anger is merely their way of nudging their creations in the right direction, forcefully correcting our course when we have strayed too far from their plan. But we, in our ignorance, think ‘the gods must be angry. Why else would we be made to suffer?’”

She didn’t wake up today expecting to give a sermon, nor did she have the religious experience to back it up. Viv didn't invest much time in reading scriptures, performing rites, or attending services of any sort. She had seen terrible things done in the name of the gods and amazingly beautiful things done, too. Trying to wrap all of that up in a neat package and say, 'yup, the gods sent this storm,' was a little too much for her to bear. So, she gave up.

“My point is, I don't know. None of us do. And the only way to find out is to look it in the eye and discern its true nature. If this storm is the work of the gods, it has come to teach us an important lesson and I intend to take that lesson to heart and become a better person for it,” she said with a bright smile, her eyes glistening as she looked at each person near her.

“And if it is not… we will kick its ass back to whatever realm it came from!”

Interacting with:
Ramjammer Ramjammer (Band'lur)​


angry fluff
Sennen Heydari
Fort Zeldem
Interactions: Ramjammer Ramjammer what_if what_if AnonyMouse AnonyMouse Silver Wolf Silver Wolf

While listening to Band'lur and Vivienne speculate about the nature of the storm, Sennen continued guzzling down liquor and meart alike and looked at the odd trio. Their size differences made Lupa look like a child, even though she was older than him. He was the youngest in the group, but certainly didn't feel like it. After all, he had been living on his own fully independently since his early teens, and some of the Stormchasers were... unique. After he finished drinking his pint of liquor, Sennen put down his glass and raised his voice to interject the conversation.

"I think this ol' talk about dragons and gods is pointless. We don't know nuthin' bout dragons, and if it's the gods, then there's no need for Stormchasers, just pray and shut up. As far as I'm concerned, blades don't work on clouds, and I doubt breaking walls is gon' do anythin' either." He gives Band'lur a look then turned to look at Osferth. "So either the top guys got somethin' up their sleeves, or they just put a pretty boy in charge to give hope to the masses while they try to cope with the damages."

Sennen felt the whole venture was optimistic at best, but as long as he had a bed to sleep in and food on the table he had no complaints about doing his job, even if it results in nothing. He felt the touch of his amulet around his neck. It was a religious token he had received from his grandmother when he was a child, she was the one of the few people he remembered fondly from his hometown and had introduced him to religion. "Besides, gods ain't somethin' to gossip about."


~ what if I fall ~ what if I fly ~
Location: Fort Zedem - Dining Hall
Interaction/s: Reinhardt Reinhardt {Osferth} Cauldhill Cauldhill {Sennen}
"...had no business playing around and starting all this nonsense."

Cecie slowed her eating. She was about to say something when Lupa stood up and gave her speech. Raising her own mug, Cecie whooped.

"We'll kick it in its hole!" She said, talking over the end of Band'lur's words. Tilting back her head, she downed half the drink, some of it spilling onto the stones beneath her. When she set the mug down, she saw that Vivienne had joined them. Cecie smiled and gave her a nod, but pulled out her notebook as Vivienne and Band'lur began talking.

Cecie recalled meeting the reindeer woman in the morning- how could she forget?- but she wanted to make sure she had the right name in mind. Scrunched in the corner of a previous page was the word "reindeer." A line connected it to a scribble that was smudged beyond recognition. Cecie groaned inwardly. She'd just have to wait until someone said the name.

"...we'll kick its ass back to whatever realm it came from!"

That drew her attention back to the conversation. She was going to interject when Sennen spoke up. She was quiet until he finished.

"Look I get what you're saying," She said, placing a hand on Sennen's shoulder. "But ain't nothin' gained from pessimism and jealousy." With that, she put her full weight on Sennen's shoulder, using it to prop herself up and stand above him. "I don't agree with him, but the man's got a point pretty boy!" She called over to Osferth. "Any plans for the fate of the world an' all that?"
Osferth Zylavor
Location: Fort Zeldem

Osferth listened to Lupa's answer as he took sips from a glass of wine. As expected, one really wouldn't be able to give a proper statement with regards to the topic, as it has merely been a few weeks since the foundation of the organization. Nevertheless, the beastfolk's words had allowed Osferth to take a quick peek at her character - and it was well within his expectations.

Witnessing her propose a toast, to which others followed, gave him hints as to how things would occur should he give Lupa the mantle of leadership on certain situations. Those were only reinforced by the fact that she had worked in the imperial military as an official, albeit not of a notably high rank.

"To the Stormchasers.", Osferth added as he raised a glass to Lupa's toast.

He wasn't one to eavesdrop, but the voice of the lizardman was loud enough to reach his ears. Hearing theories and rumors about the true nature of the Roaring Sky, and the discussion that would most likely follow it assured him of the recruits' focus with regards to the mentioned topic.

The moment he had finished his wine, one of the recruits called for his attention, asking about plans he had in mind with regards to the evident issue they were to tackle - the endless storm covering the skies of Valheim.

A confident smile, yet exuding a slight sense of slyness, was formed on his face as he turned to face the source of the voice - the woman named Cecie Fallenmire. Her background wasn't anything that stood out in the Grandmaster's eyes, but the fact that she had the courage to join the Stormchasers was quite enough to clear most of his doubts about her.

"Certainly. I have plans on how we are to proceed on unveiling the Roaring Sky's mysteries. However, not all plans must be put to action, and not all actions bear fruit.", he replied. "Although I do have one task for later that should scratch your itch for action, so be sure to enjoy this feast as much as you can."

He took yet another glass from the table and took a sip. Clearly, this man enjoys his liquor.

Interaction/s: Lupa ( Silver Wolf Silver Wolf ), Cecie ( what_if what_if )


~ what if I fall ~ what if I fly ~
Location: Fort Zeldem - Dining Hall
Interactions: Ramjammer Ramjammer Cauldhill Cauldhill AnonyMouse AnonyMouse Silver Wolf Silver Wolf Sinful Sorcerer Sinful Sorcerer Xethyrion Xethyrion
{I'm not bothering with the rp names on the tags for this one because it's a lot}
Cecie was quiet for a moment. "I wanted answers, not riddles. What are ya- a wizard? You like rhyming 'bout your morning drink?"

She shook her head before sitting back down, taking her weight off of Sennen. Cecie stabbed the last sausage on her plate and waved it around as she spoke. "This here is a company of the most mismatched people I've ever lain eyes on." She pointed over at Alentair. "I don't even know if there's a person in there or if it's just a talkin' suit. Look, we're gonna figure this storm out and kick it where the sun don't shine, but it'd be a lot easier with some answers. Like what this group can actually do." With sausage in hand, she swung it toward each person as she called them out. "Pretty sure the big lizard can hit stuff. I think the reindeer and Sanden are here for hittin' stuff too. Don't even know what Purple Hair has goin' on. I think Lupa's got claws, though I ain't ever seen them. And you've got a plan that apparently doesn't bear any fruit."

Cecie took a bite out of the impaled sausage. "That means I want proper introductions, in case ya don't get it." She said, speaking around a full mouth. "Preferably short and easy to remember."


Vivienne Yvarra
At the Mess Hall​

To Vivienne's surprise, Band'lur's question and her response to it seemed to open everyone up. The conversation suddenly became much more lively as Cecie's new friend chimed in and directed a question at Osferth. What are they here to do? What do the higher-ups know about the storm? Is there a plan? Vivienne resumed eating as Osferth gave his rather non-committal response, but her eyes darted around the table, wondering if that answer was good enough for any of them.

Apparently, it was. After all, they had signed up for this without knowing what to expect. Vivienne's assumption was that the Stormchasers were created for the purpose of figuring out what to do. Their mission was one of exploration, research, and discovery. but, she had to admit, that was only an assumption. Some clarification from the man in charge would have been preferable.

Cecie suddenly became quite vocal about this and demanded introductions from everyone present, a suggestion which made Vivienne's smile brighten even more. She loved meeting people. Meeting an entire room of them, at once, was enough to drive her mad with glee.

"What a wonderful idea, Cecie! I'll go first," the centaur said, enthusiastically clapping her hands. She was practically glowing as she slid her plate aside and stood up so quickly her knees thumped the underside of the table, rattling the plates and silverware. "Vivienne Yvarra, at your service," she said, resting a hand over her bosom as she bowed to everyone gathered. "'Viv' or 'Miss Yvarra' will suffice. I am 'the reindeer' as Cecie so eloquently put it, however the hitting of stuff is not my reason for being here. I have no taste for violence, though I will take up arms when necessary or if commanded to do so," she added with a furtive glance in Osferth's direction.

Her cheeks reddened ever-so-slightly as she confessed this. Her aversion to violence was slightly embarrassing to admit, as most of the people present appeared to be of a martial nature and probably believed she was the same way. Much like the stable boy, many of these people probably took one look at her and thought, 'big woman big strong! Hit stuff hard! Hurr durr!' They had certain expectations of her and she didn't want to let them down. However, she was pretty sure anyone who spent more than a few minutes in her presence could see she found no joy in harming others, even those who clearly intended to do harm.

"Aaaaanyway," she said, toying with a lock of her snowy white hair, which was a clear sign her mind was wandering, "I have --oh gosh-- twenty years of experience as a transporter, escort, guide, and caravan leader. Has it really been that long? Wow. You can count on me because I have seen enough of this world to know that it is worth dying for, as are each and every one of you. If our mission is to venture into the heart of this storm, I consider it my duty to get us there and back, swiftly and safely. I so truly look forward to working with you all."

And, with that, she promptly dropped back down into her seated position. The introduction was probably not as short as Cecie would have liked, but Vivienne felt relieved to have it off of her chest. There was something deeply refreshing about telling others how she felt.

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