[center][h3][color=C0392B]Rudolf Sagramore[/color][/h3][/center]

[i]Alright. Not to distract,[/i]

[i][color=c0392b][b]Really[/b] not the time![/color][/i] Rudolf mentally growled, his verbal contributions little more than a distressed hiss of [color=c0392b]"[i]shit![/i]" [/color]as the torrent of water spewed forth from the needle-tooth maw of the mythical Lady of Whorls. He found his briefest respite behind one of the aging marble pillars that flanked the altar itself— a testament to the former regard in which Leviathan was once held, still not shorn away even by spray, wind, and neglect over the centuries as the current pantheon wrested away the lion's share of worship. his heart hammered after the sudden dash, brow knotted in confusion and worry as the torrent broke on either side of the marble at his back. They'd done that whole ritual to the letter, hadn't they? 

[i]Right. About that. I know we had a few concerns going in, but I'm pretty confident this isn't because of me.[/i]

He clicked his tongue, mind racing as he was forced into the same set of conclusions as Izayoi, some fifteen feet off to his right. If they had followed the ritual exactly as instructed, and there was no obvious corruptive influence at play...

[i]Anything involving your personal luck wouldn't manifest like this. Eidolons are tugged by the threads of fate same as anything, but the scale's too different for her and her tie to the aether currents of this land to not recognize a specific pull that shouldn't be there... Probably. Y'know, most likely.[/i]

Then, at least for now, the Trial of Tides served to test their prowess. That made a certain degree of sense, he supposed— only allowing access to those that would be able to prove their valor and ability to protect the crystal once it was in their hands— which in turn was a fairly simple explanation for how Valheim had already gained access to the fire crystal in Osprey while seemingly being short on classically-favored-by-the-Seven hero types.

His eyes narrowed, and he felt a chill down his spine as he contemplated just what he was about to do. He drew the Wings from either side of his hip as he leaned his head from behind the cover, gauging distance. her head wasn't too far for him to reach, even with these shorter, heavier blades— let alone the spear, or the greatsword.

She had left their party no choice in this. No matter how much the logical part of him said that [i]attacking a divine beast[/i] would be steeping himself yet deeper in sin than climbing out of it, it was a damn sight better than rolling over and giving up.

And he hadn't been kidding about having a bone to pick in his own right regarding the Tides. [color=c0392b][i]Drops and buckets, then.[/i]

"Guess so!"[/color]

Steeling his nerve, Rudolf rushed out from behind the cover in the wake of the sweeping torrent of water, posture low to the ground as he closed in. He had only a couple seconds tops before her attention would be on the first opponent to show himself— he needed to open strong.

All things being equal, if his passenger was supposedly not half the problem he'd been believing he was...

His grip tightened on the hilts, and he sacrificed a good day he might have otherwise had, some time down the line. His armaments gained what seemed double their heft in that moment, as he maneuvered below Leviathan's serpentine head, praying she didn't pick now to remind him that he'd connected her Pseudolon counterpart with the paralyzing songs of Naga—

And swept the blades up in a double slash, painting a black cross upon her jaw.