[IC] Blades of Iron Roses: An Anime-Inspired Knight RP

[Eisenhorn]

Rolan didn't waste either his breath or the daemon's attention on vocalizing just how much he did not appreciate the situation he found himself in. Was it advantageous for the others to be able to focus on advancing up the hill? Yes. Would it force the mage to spread her attention out more across the rest of the knights? Certainly. Was it going to get him slaughtered in a fight that he was sorely unprepared for? Very likely. In the moments of the daemon crushing the fired bolt in her hand, the hedge knight slung his crossbow and drew the hunting knife he always carried. Not that it was going to deflect anything, let alone block, as laughable as that consideration would be, but Rolan did have one thing going for him. He was fast enough on his feet that he could, in the moments the weapons remained formed, deflect himself away from the attacks. He was trying to draw her as far away as possible despite the teleportation showing that to be less than relevant. His mind was racing through the tools he had on hand, most of which did not fit here.

Most of his prepared alchemical compounds had been tailored almost exclusively towards the impending Dragon encounter, and Rolan wasn't going to entertain a flask of alchemist fire doing more than getting him burned alive by the daemoness just grappling him once doused. Even the reagents and components he had decided to pack were almost useless on their own, but one came to mind as he felt several hairs get clipped off his head from the backswing of an axe larger than he was. Aqua Regia, he had packed a vial mostly because the compound fascinated him, its interaction with various metals something he wanted to experiment with when he had the time, and part of him had assumed there would have been travel and more time between contests. Hand darting under his cloak, every attack driving ever closer to his luck finally running dry, hell odds were good the knife wasn't going to take much more of this and it wasn't even taking much more than glancing force from being used to guide his own evasions.

Rolan waited for an opportunity, gritting his teeth as death kept creeping closer, using the cloak to conceal what he was up to while trying to obfuscate his form at least a little, to buy him a few more seconds. Panicking now and just throwing it wouldn't help, he had to try and wait for the right moment to go for her eyes. If it had the effect he was hoping it would, she would not be able to visually track him long enough to get some space and try to employ what he was actually good at, putting a bolt somewhere where it would hurt. Rolan would thrust the vial towards the daemoness when the best chance he could spot arose, uncorking the vial as part of the motion and aiming to get as much of the mixture in her eyes specifically as possible. If he were a faithful man he would probably offer a prayer up at this point, but it would ring kind of hollow for him to suddenly start doing so now. Hoping to at least get something out of his last ditch effort would have to suffice.

[Octo]

Gertrude side-eyed Fionn as he plopped down on her broom. It felt weird to have someone else flying with her, especially since a portion of her soul occupied the catalyst that they were both riding on. She had a feeling it didn't like having some big weird dude sitting on it, but they wouldn't be too long. Gertrude lifted off, heading around the cliff in such a way that Fionn would be the one facing it.

Talkative bastard.

Gertrude let out a low growl as he dared suggest what she should do. Part of her hoped this plan succeeded, but a much larger part of her hoped he got killed. A lot.

"I do what I want. It just so happens I was going to do that anyways, OK?" Gertrude grumbled as she sped up. For most people, the ride wouldn't be this smooth. However, Gertrude delegated a lot of the fine movements to the part of her soul that occupied the broom, and its regulation was as close to perfection as a ride could get. Thus, when Fionn was ready to jump, it reared back and worked with his movement to fling him further along.

She wanted to call him something rude as she flew away, but her giving their movements away would defeat the whole damn point of the plan. Instead, she stuck her tongue out and pulled her lower eyelid down with a forefinger. He probably wouldn't see this, but it made Gertrude feel good.

From there, she shot around the mountain and began pummeling Gisela with very quick, not incredibly powerful spells. She figured if she could keep the woman busy like this for a while, things would shake out smoothly.

Things did not shake out smoothly.

Gertrude had under-estimated Gisela's ability to multi-task. She knew the woman could just pour mana into spells to make them work at high levels without an exceptionally long chant, but to have so many active at once while defending herself and watching for runners was quite frankly ridiculous. Gertrude distracted her for a while, but then Gisela unleashed a Shooting Stars spell whose volume took up so much of the horizon that defending against it directly without knowing how much she poured into it would not be feasible.

In short, her broom jolted downwards in a quick and messy maneuver that would have been incredibly dangerous for any other implement to attempt, and the spell essentially forced her out of the sky for the time being.

---

Gretchen had finished chanting a spell that Gertrude was getting ready to unleash, but without Gisela in Gertrude's sights, the spell threatened to become moot. Gertrude was well away from the rest of the group, but Gretchen had a good view of everything going on as she peeked out from behind a tree. Gisela was too far away for someone as weak as Gretchen to affect meaningfully, but Krysia was close by and distracted with harassing the archer.

Gretchen, meanwhile, had a fully-charged Celestial Spears spell and just a little more than enough mana to cast it. Since it could pierce even through armor, it had a chance of severely damaging Krysia if even a couple of them hit.

It looked like Rolan was about to make a move, and once he did, Gretchen decided to use that moment of distraction to launch her attack.

If it failed, well, she'd seen how mad Krysia got when someone had the gall to shoot at her. But that's why she'd stagger a few spears to protect herself if the Demon got close. After that was done, she'd need to rely on the others to protect her.

She hated relying on others, but she knew it was probably the best move she could make in the moment. She wondered if anyone would actually protect her, or if they were all selfish liars like she knew they were. Whatever the turnout, it would be useful to find out a few things.

[Psyker Landshark]

Renar Hagen

It didn't work as well as he would have liked. So it goes. The metal spike parried his trip attempt, and he quickly tried to formulate a new tactic, only for the situation to change again as the demoness outright vanished. Behind, left, right, above, nothing. Then he saw the attempt on Rolan out of the corner of his eye. At least that fellow seemed to have something up his sleeve. Renar could respect that. He would have moved to aid further, but they still had an objective to move on to.

Speaking of, Renar chanced a look up back toward said objective, and blanched. Spheres of light, coming down. Likely death, if they made contact.

"Captain!" Renar's tone was strained as he simultaneously tried to shove himself out of the way while also warning Fanilly. "To your left! Now!" He leapt to the right, himself. He'd probably be fine, but hopefully his warning gave Fanilly enough time to respond. The amount of time he had to spent actually vocalizing the words already worked against her. Add in a split second more for her to process them. Would she make it in time?

@VitaVitaAR

[HereComesTheSnow]

Gerard Segremors

As one would have expected, facing a thinking opponent rather than a rote automaton, tactics were dropped and swapped when proven unviable. Training beneath the Hammer and Mirror Knight must have been wildly different experiences, given the gap in methodology employed by their respective taskmasters, but more clear than anything was the shared byproduct—

"Incoming high!" he barked, sabaton digging into the earth from heel to toe as forward momentum cut into a spring on the diagonal, sudden change in course exaggerating the distance between him and the silvery orb's trajectory. "Falling short, brace!"

— be it by directed exercise or by simply throwing oneself into as much fire as could be handled, the pair of Reonites had both gained really good eyes, keen, active, and measuring. Gerard's caught the endless torrent of mana that forced Gertrude to earth as light, turning his amber irises gold, before they darted up to read the disk of spun nighttime, motes of silver starlight already gathering within its mass to form a second, and finally Gisela's still-moving mouth and pointed hand. Oh, how flattering, me first.

Right at him. Hard to misinterpret.

Impact. Even at this distance, he felt the shockwave shake his bones, wind kiss the skin of his face, and the ghosts of lives past flash somewhere deep below his thinking mind. The destructive force of each was evident, if this was their appetizer— no moment of it digging into the earth by the look of things once the dust cleared, either. Not an instant to play with the idea of deflecting.

He set forward again, wishing for all the world their erstwhile Lioness peer could have been here to eat crow for giving him grief for his hill sprints in the waking world. The surge in speed brought him ahead of Fleuri, close to the crater the first had left as the second came hurtling down.

"No more cover fire from Gertrude, not until we get some pressure off her!" he reported, scooping his free hand to the upturned earth and pulling free a gauntlet full of gravel, the stone beneath the soil pulverized within the crater. He was tougher now by leagues, but he'd be lucky to endure more than one before his bones were similarly shattered. It felt close enough to a near miss from Cyrus's hammer. "We need to cut off that chanting before she picks us or the guys below off,"

The second silver orb sailed in, lead diligently for his motion to hit him square in the surcoat— but he'd seen something within that instant of the first strike. Building off that sense of not having any time to try and deflect, parry, redirect.

The moment it hit something besides air, then, it went boom.

With a swiping motion not wholly dissimilar to Renar's below, he cast the rubble into the air ahead, as a fistful of somethings suddenly were in the way as the orb breached that final dozen meters from their heads.

"Any ideas?" he asked, as premature thunder cracked overhead.

[VitaVitaAR]

The flash of magic, and Sir Renar's shouted warning, made her feet move.

The air rushed around her, the world blurred, and the brilliant light hurtled past her.

She could feel it. The air itself seemed to ripple, to burn, as the ball of light tore its way down the hill. It wasn't the same kind of impact as the bolt she had deflected, though. She couldn't be sure how much stronger it was, but she could nearly feel it even now.

Fanilly took a firm step back.

There was room to rush up the hill, now, as fast as she could. To break away and achieve their objective.

However---

Sir Rolan was facing the demon alone. While death wasn't permanent here, they had to treat it like it was.

And so, she couldn't abandon one of her knights. How could she? What kind of Knight-Captain would she be? In order to stand up to that title, she had to do everything she could---!

"With me, Sir Renar, we have to stay alive and keep the demon in place!"

Glancing only briefly back up the hill to check for the approach of another spell, the petite knight broke into a sprint, hands gripping the hilt of her blade as she threw herself across the side of the hill as swiftly as she could possibly manage. All she had to do was drag the demon's attention away again, just to give Sir Rolan an opening that he could use to get some distance.

Besides, that gave Sir Fionn and the others more time, didn't it? The longer the demon's attention was kept on them, and the more of them survived, the more likely they could hold her there!

Aim for a joint. Even if it misses, if it gets close enough she'll have to respond.

This was Fanilly's thought process. Even a demon that could heal any injury in seconds would still be at least briefly crippled and forced to retreat, so obviously she would act to avoid that situation.

So even if she couldn't possibly achieve hitting her initial target, it was fine.

Her eyes locked on the gaps in the demon's armor, Fanilly thrust her sword---!

[Crimson Paladin]

Fleuri Jodeau

Complying with Gerard's warning, ducked down as a spell came hurtling at them, striking the ground and exploding not far from Gerard. As the Hundi readied another attack in her hand, it was clear at this point that she was now done tossing magical hazards at the duo, and was now focusing on dealing with them.

If they did not react accordingly, they would quickly be removed from this challenge.

Fleuri was no mage, but he could deduce a few things based on what he saw from that first silver sphere. It was almost certainly a warning shot- a mage of such vast power wouldn't miss like that except on purpose, especially in what was explicitly meant as a challenge for the knights. Even in the unlikely event that its trajectory was a blunder on her part, she'd almost certainly correct her aim for the next one.

The most important detail is that the projectile exploded when it hit the ground, rather than bounce off or penetrate through.

If something hit it mid-air with enough force, that ought to make one of these projectiles explode prematurely, he reasoned. At least, he hoped that's how this worked. As Gerard grabbed some dirt, presumably either thinking the same thing or perhaps hoping to obscure himself, Fleuri pulled out the one object on him that he could use in for this purpose- his dagger. It wasn't exactly designed as throwing weapon, but in this instance he didn't need the blade to hit it.

For what it was worth, this ordeal of facing magic did give Fleuri some ideas as to where he wanted to go with his swordsmanship training. Between this and the fight in the Cazt tomb, it was clear that it wasn't enough to learn to deflect physical blades, he needed to learn to fight and deflect magic. He hoped that Rui- either the real one or the duplicate of this world- would be available and willing to instruct him on this path.

The moment that the Hundi fired a projectile as Fleuri, he'd fling the dagger in its path in an attempt to detonate it mid-air, then use the momentary concealment of the light of the explosion to move forward, weaving to the side to ensure that if another spell followed at the exact same trajectory, it would zip past him.

[Raineh Daze]

"What's a Velt?" the fairy asked, head tilted, "Is it near Lorkay?"

Or, in other words, she was almost exactly from north-eastern Velt. Or southern Estival. Or northwest Ithillin. The great primeval forest of the wood elves and fey, still stretching across the north and largely resistant to any attempts at clearing.

"Oh, and I'm Aisling. The summoner lady has asked me to stop anyone from climbing this way, so could you please get back to falling down? I would rather not harm that poor tree."

@The Otter

---

"Not twice in a day," was the demon's firm statement, this time intercepting the attempt at blinding—although with a raised eyebrow at the marring of her armour.

Then Gertrude fired and she was forced to divert her attention, tsking. Even as the bolt was moments away, she stood firm, not making a move to dodge or avoid it, and then lashed out with a mailed fist. For moments, the Celestial Spear hung in the air, paused, and ground against the armour—

And then its course was deflected, the spell now aimed firmly at Rolan. Once again, she was forced to avoid capitalising on her intended target, however, as the demon barely had time to form a new blade and prevent herself from being run through entirely. And such a shallow blow would hardly be fatal.

"Is your goal not to reach the top of the hill?" If she was upset about the three or four to one odds, she didn't seem it, but at least working together they were keeping up. Unless someone slipped.

@VitaVitaAR@Psyker Landshark@Octo@Eisenhorn

---

With Krysia perhaps unintentionally tying up everyone on one flank, Gisela was now free to focus her attention on Fleuri and Gerard. Given that they were making good progress up the hill, too long a pause would obviously be a bad idea.

Watching the hundi literally scratch her head before launching into another spell was therefore a bit unexpected in context, but there would be no time to celebrate this, as her staff was once again a fountain of magical bolts arcing up and around in all directions, a wide bombardment over the majority of the flank.

Only, as they began falling down to the ground, the ballistic trajectories came to a dead stop, and they instead shot much more in the pair's direction. Not perfectly on target, but what had initially looked to be a rain of magical bolts had transformed into a focused barrage from almost every direction except behind. At least these ones weren't exploding, or hitting rock hard enough to be used as a mining tool.

@HereComesTheSnow@Crimson Paladin

[Eisenhorn]

Rolan resisted the urge to start cursing when the daemoness protected her eyes from his attempted movement, but the sight of the warping and marring of the armor gave him ideas in the future for dealing with heavily armored knights and the like. He could muse on that later, right now he was scrambling back from the daemoness as she blocked a damn spell from the caster's partner, if that was the right word for it, who was still at the base of the hill. Already moving away from the melee, Rolan had to throw himself hard to the side to narrowly evade the incoming Spear, though he could feel it tear through his cloak and the strap holding his crossbow on his back. He heard it clattering away and down the hill, momentum carrying it out of his reach as he scrambled to his feet, mind racing to process the battlefield right now, and now found himself barely resisting the urge to start cursing as the Captain engaged the daemoness, calling Sir Renar after her in an effort to save him.

This would be the point where a faithful man might start muttering about gods damn it or the like, the Captain should be advancing up the hill, not pulling his sorry hide out of the fire. If it was his place to draw the daemoness away so the others could advance, so be it, he would have stalled his death as long as possible. But if the Captain wasn't going to, in his opinion, pursue the goal of this test, then so be it he would. Crossbow was out of the question, but he didn't need that since, clearly, attempting to cut the Hundi short on casting would just piss off the daemoness further. He didn't waste his breath on shouting at the Captain or other knights, or even rebutting the daemoness as she called the others out on ignoring the objective. He had an opening, slim as it was, and he was going to take it. The Captain and Sir Renar were better suited to melee, and without wasting time to retrieve his crossbow he could not readily contribute to fighting the daemoness.

Without hesitating Rolan turned and took off as fast as he could move, beelining straight up the hill while the Hundi was focusing her efforts on the other flank. He had no qualms with abandoning the fight if that meant ending it sooner, let the others call him out for it at another time. He had to watch for incoming magic, and listen for the daemoness redirecting her attention to the fleeing hedge knight, but right now he was going to take advantage of his relatively light load and naturally fast movement to try and close the gap on the Hundi before he could be stopped. If he was lucky the others could handle the incoming threats long enough to put an end to this once and for all. If he was lucky he would reach the Hundi before she could refocus her efforts back across multiple flanks again, but if not, well, he would have to continue pushing his luck to not getting killed by attacks he couldn't even begin to hope to block. Once he got out of this mess he needed to start carrying an actual arming sword around, a knife was only going to get him so far.

[The Otter]

Fionn MacKerracher

---

@Raineh Daze

---

Aisling. Not one he really remembered meeting. Unfortunate.

"Well, the one that put her up to guarding the top of this hill from us—" Fionn gestured vaguely off towards where Gisela ought to have been at that point— "Is the same one that put us to the task of getting to the top of it. So I can't really get to falling, or I'd be breaking my agreement here. Besides, I'm not climbing right now, I'm sitting! Sitting and talking." He patted the tree he was currently perched on with a broad grin. "Of course, if you think about it, that means—by extension—we're actually working for the same person. Little odd, isn't it?" Simple, transactional; word given, a task to be done. She'd understand it, easily enough, enough to get to questioning why they were set against each other when they had the same boss.

Now, just to figure out what to do about the contracted Niyar and the now-much-more-treacherous cliff face she'd made for him.

"So, the big forest, aye? You weren't from around the big mountain, were you? That's where I'm from, me and Fiadh. She's the one left this mark in my palm, so she is." He took the moment to hazard a quick glance around, admiring the scenery—and trying to commit to memory, as well as possible, every last bit of actual rock and every tree or other useful plant sticking out from the cliff face in case he had to start climbing again, quickly. Anything to keep him from tumbling to the ground far below.

He looked back up to the tiny face peeking at him over the edge. Best to keep the conversation moving while he thought up a plan of some sort. "She's taught me a bit of language, too, although I'm not so quick to learn. What was the word for shaking again? Or to shake, I suppose. Kreteti?"

[Psyker Landshark]

Renar Hagen

"Captain," Renar started in a reproachful tone before sighing and giving it up as a bad job. Blast it all. Of course Fanilly had to take the exact opposite decision that he would have.

He could see her thought process: keep the demoness occupied so that the other team had a better chance without interference. Though that also meant the mage would only be occupied with one side rather than have to divide her attention between two. It was a rather conservative tactic that he wasn't quite fond of, but this wasn't exactly a dire enough situation that he'd seriously consider dereliction of duty in the pursuit of victory.

Fortunately, Sir Rolan had the presence of mind to immediately resume the climb once enough attention was taken off of himself. Good. That meant there wasn't a problem if Renar and the captain continued to tie the demon up.

Renar made two quick thrusts with the spear tip of his poleaxe, deliberately creating an opening in his stance. Just a tiny bit extended too far. Any competent warrior would see it and try to capitalize. So long as the demoness did, he'd immediately riposte by swinging the counterweight on the other end of the haft around vertically, trying to bring it down upon Krysia's head.

[HereComesTheSnow]

Gerard Segremors

"That is a good idea," Gerard breathed, as the diamond dust of the explosion's remnant showered around he and Fleuri when the latter man dealt with his ball of arcane destruction similarly, prompting a scratched head from the venerable hundi on high. Pulling his own knife free from its sheath on the leather bandolier, he showed no signs of care for the heft of the blade as he reared the arm back, eyes calculating—

And in tandem with the storm from above, launched it uphill, breaking off into a sprint the instant his feet didn't need to set for the throw. The fire coming in was indiscriminate, but rote enough that for a moment, he believed his incoming knife would cut it at the source, and be the end of things for a moment after the initial burst—

But, of course, reality kicked in right around the moment he decided he didn't think things would really be that easy, now that they'd gotten the lion's share of her attention. After cresting the zenith of their arc, the shots began to sink again to the earth for maybe two seconds, then lurched to a halt.

There they hung. A million eyes upon the night sky painted above, leering down at them.

Then, as one, they all burst forth, now guided straight for the pair. Much more focused. A test of their reflexes.

Man, where the hell were Gertie and Fionn?

He veered away first thing, as he poured as much power as he could muster out of his legs. The timing on the redirections he'd need to pull off would be tight if he wanted to minimize the impact from this barrage, lose the least ground possible—

The same would be true of Fleuri as well. They needed to split this barrage up, so they wouldn't rush right into crossfire from the other man. He'd outpace what he could, dodge what he could, and failing all else... get his armor in the way of whatever else came.

[Crimson Paladin]

Fleuri Jodeau

The Hundi wasn't out of tricks yet. What had initially assumed to be an easily enough dodged rain of magical projectiles proved to be a feint. The projectiles froze in the air, the a moment later, began firing smaller projectiles aimed squarely at the two knights' positions.

It was a foolish assumption to think that this Hundi would make any part of this challenge easy.

Fleuri bolted to the side and forward away from Gerard, not wanting to dash right into the barrage aimed at Gerard, and likewise not wanting to lead his barrage towards his fellow knight. His assumption was that the suspended magical bolts would track the two knights, meaning that they'd have to move quickly and not stay in any one place. He would try to keep ahead of their tracking, ready to dodge any stray bolts that fell in the path of his run, and any that he couldn't, he'd attempt to use the blade of his sword to block.

I wonder how the other knights are doing. With any luck, at least some of the others would be taking advantage of the Hundi's attention currently being on Fleuri and Jerard.

@HereComesTheSnow@Raineh Daze

[Octo]

Gretchen had thought she had a shot with all the distractions, but Krysia still managed to scope her attack out before it collided. Gretchen still had pride, but not like Gertrude. It was tempered in her own weakness, and allowed her to make decisions like tactical retreat. Gretchen called off the rest of the Celestial Spears. She might have been able to hit Krysia if she'd loosed the lot of them all at once, but her own... allies? Comrades?

People she had to tolerate.

Her own people she had to tolerate would be caught in the crossfire, and she'd likely deal more damage to her own chances than to Gisela's. At the very least, Krysia didn't seem offended enough to go after her. Like a small injured animal, she slinked back behind a tree and began chanting again. It looked like a lot of the Roses were about ready to make a charge up the hill, and Gisela was already focusing that way. Gertrude would be back up in the air to bombard Gisela from the flank again in no time, with the Hundi's attention so thoroughly elsewhere.

---

Gertrude groaned. It was probably time to get back in the air, but fighting Gisela annoyed her. In fact, not being the strongest mage in any given place annoyed her.

Old hags annoyed her, especially. Eternally clutching at their power and prestige and refusing to make way for the next generation with a headstart that reached practically an eternity and would get only more egregious as the years wore on.

Oh, how she yearned to teach Aleksiya a lesson.

Or Gisela. Whatever. Only, she was incapable at this point. All she could do was offer a distraction. Well, a victory was a victory.

Gertrude lifted up off the ground, seeing that Gisela was pretty aggressively targeting those who were charging up the mountain. It was time for a different sort of bombardment. Gretchen had chanted up a pretty massive fire spell, and Gertrude unleashed it from Gisela's flank. She didn't necessarily want to burn Gisela, but the hilltop that surrounded her. The flames and smoke would likely make it difficult to see and chant, and the Roses wouldn't need to worry about it until they crested the hilltop and achieved victory regardless.

Then, once that massive spell was unleashed, Gertrude would continue bombarding as she had been earlier. She was pretty sure Gisela would have an answer for this, but nothing that wouldn't cause her some distraction.

[The Otter]

Fionn MacKerracher featuring Aisling the Niyar

---

@Raineh Daze

---

“Krineti. The word you’re looking for is krineti,” Aisling answered first, looking thoughtful, “And no, no, I’m not from near the mountain, I’m with all the pointy people and the nice doggies.”

And then she lit up again, the tree now… well, shaking. It appeared that Fionn had given the nature spirit some ideas.

Indeed, he’d felt the vibrating of the tree beneath him start as soon as she’d said the word. It was terribly rude, he figured; interrupting the conversation just to try and send him falling like that. Clearly he couldn’t continue to try and stall for time like this, because if he did the tree would end up shaking violently enough that he couldn’t hope to hold on at all—

Or she’d just let it break, and him fall with it.

He wrapped his legs firmly around the trunk, turning to face the cliff face again as he looked up at the fairy. “Right, krineti, thanks for that,” he grumbled. “So that means, as a command—”

Some of the loose earth around the trunk sticking out from the cliff was breaking away and falling as it shook, the mud that Aisling had made covering most of it that he could see looking either up or down.

Well. Two can play at that game.

He slapped one hand against the cliff face, his focus high up on the ground just below Aisling where she leaned to look over the edge. “Krini!” he thundered as pushed his will into the cliff ahead of him, setting the top under Aisling’s legs shaking worse than when he’d accidentally torn apart Erich’s garden. The destabilized dirt began to crack, drop, and slough off around where the fairy was standing—hopefully taking her with it.

Not watching to see the fruits of his labor, Fionn leapt from the still-shaking tree, digging his clawed hands deep into the cliff in a mad scramble upwards, off to the side from where he’d set it shaking to avoid sending himself falling with the fairy. If she didn’t fall, there wouldn’t be much chance left for him to do much other than hope he could move quickly enough to counteract the mud slipping beneath him.

“Weeee~” was probably not the response that Fionn had been anticipating, Aisling sliding off the cliff and… okay, holding herself upright despite now being at an incline? Either impressive core strength, or fairy magic at play. And with him stuck climbing the same cliff—

“Oh, this is a nice seat.”

Ah, there was a fairy on his shoulders.

Digging his arms deep into the mud served fairly well to mitigate the sliding as much as possible, coupled with digging his toes in a similar amount. Grabbing any roots or actual rock he found as he climbed helped as well. Had the cliff been a bit further off from vertical, it might well not have worked out at all—but he was still making headway, just slower than he’d like. And he couldn’t really afford to get lax in his hunting.

He wrapped his fingers around a thick root he felt meet his palm as he dug his arm in again, just as the new weight perched itself on his shoulders.

“Enjoying yourself?”

“It’s much better than being on fire, that’s for sure.”

“Yes, that’s never very fun, is it?”

He looked up again. The sudden darkness that had covered over the space earlier was now replaced with the unmistakable glow of firelight coming from atop the cliff. No surprise there; it was only a matter of time before Gertrude got annoyed enough to try and blast the entire thing to bits.

He squeezed the root once, turning his head a little bit to the fairy perched on his back.

“So, you don’t know Fiadh, do you? As far as I know she’s always been around Gleann Luaith, don’t know that she ever lived around elves or Hundi much.”

“Hmm, maybe? But if she sticks to her area, and I stick to mine, it’s not like we’d ever meet much. Maybe once or twice a century? It’s so much more interesting to go look at the people who don’t belong when they come visit you.” Above them, the earth seemed to be churning away still, even though Fionn’s spell had definitely run out. Probably trying to put out enough of the fire she would have somewhere to wait again.

“Well, she’s down in Thaln by Aimlenn now. Much further south. Might come visit if you’d like, when we’re not having to fight each other. Gisela summoned you here, aye? You’re not just one that’s been stuck in here?”

If she was the latter, that would certainly make visiting difficult.

“Oh, yes, I was brought in for the afternoon, it sounded like fun! I haven’t seen a dragon in ages and I wanted to watch.” It seemed the fire was out now. Or at least that patch of it.

“You wouldn’t be willing to help me with that dragon later, would you?” He was ready to set the unseen root wrapping around his hand to keep him held up at a moment’s notice if she went back to her earlier attempts to shake him off and throw him down, but for the time being he was happy to catch his breath a bit. “Fighting him is our next task.”

“Dragons are all burny and I’m associated with trees.” Now she was leaning over to try and look him in the eyes, the cliff getting out of the way so there was room for her head. It did mean rather a lot of hair blowing against Fionn’s face, though. “I don’t think that would help. And then I’d be too close! Terrible view.”

Fionn blinked at the hair blowing into his eyes, shaking his head a bit. ”You don’t need to be that close. I don’t mean getting up and fighting it with us, just—think of how tired I’m going to be after this! I know you’ve got something that can help with that.”

He paused for a moment.

”No just making me sleep, though. That option is off-limits.”

“Aww… but sleeping is good! Maybe there’s some berries? Will you have time for a nice drink before you fight the dragon?”

He looked back up the cliff. ”Maybe? We didn’t really get any time before we were set to this task, although Gisela did at least wait for us to scout around and plan a bit. Would it be too much for me to ask you to start prepping something now if you’ve got something in mind?”

“Oh, maybe! I should go look… there must be some nice plants around…”

Well, at least there was no longer a fairy on his shoulders. Just mud up to his wrists as the cliff had gotten very… damp.

Fionn breathed a sigh of relief. ”Appreciate it, dear,” he muttered. He closed his eyes for a moment, focusing on the root in his right hand—and ignored the itch in his left every time he started even contemplating magic. A moment spent rooting around for the right word, and...”Dringe.”

The root stirred in his grasp, bending towards the top of the cliff. As he stuck his left hand into the muck, he grasped where it had grown further, now climbing inexorably upwards for as long as he could stay focused on it.

Hand over hand like he was climbing a rope, Fionn advanced upwards towards the no-longer-burning portion of the peak now that he didn’t have anyone actively harrying him.

[Raineh Daze]

After the barrage—

Stillness. No more attacks, no more deluges of magical projectiles. It wasn't that the caster was too occupied, Gertie could see her standing there absorbing her own attacks on a magical barrier without extra effort. She just wasn't pumping out more attacks, giving Gerard and Fleuri at last a sprint to the top… at the same time as she gave Fionn's direction an unimpressed look, shortly before he crested the hilltop.

Not that anyone further down the hill could see him, due to the fire.

Krysia, of course, was still engaging Fanilly and Renar, although her attention had constantly been on breaking away to chase Rolan, not taking the bait Renar was offering and instead focusing constantly on pulling away… only to click her teeth and lower her arms right as she found enough of a break to raise an ominously weighty-looking crossbow in her off hand.

"Looks like they got to the top."

After a moment's pause, the hundi did cast something else: a crushing, damp fog that marred the sunny day, swamping the entire hillside for an uncomfortably lingering minute that left no visibility… but when it cleared, at least there was no ring of fire any more. During the lack of visibility, the demon had even returned to her side.

"Well, I think you all did well enough…" Gisela said, raising a finger to her chin, "The vast majority of powerful mages, even if they have the backup to keep you at bay, are going to be stuck fighting with mostly one school of offensive magic. And you held up well against pure astromancy, which is one of the easiest to avoid friendly fire… still, be careful, there's still people like the Necromancer of the Burned Village that won't care and could just swamp you with reckless elemental spells. Oh, and…"

At this, the hundi advanced on Gertrude, a frown on her face. Despite the height difference, she had no compunction against poking the apparent-maid on the chest. "Think. If I had just used the wind spell I cleared the smoke with again, the entire hill would have been on fire! Uncontrolled lasting effects can just as easily turn on you; stick with astromancy if you won't plan ahead.

"Now… I'd say more, but I can just come down to Thaln for a visit in a few weeks, so I'll save it until then. I'm sure you're all quite eager to get through your final challenge, right?" She punctuated her statement with a beam of light sent skywards, "All you have to do—"

The shadow passing overhead was unmistakeable, the sunlight catching the crimson scales—

"—Is injure Thrinax."

Back towards the gates, stood beside the once-again seated Prince Erion, the dragon roared his challenge.

[Eisenhorn]

If Rolan had his crossbow at this point he would have been sorely tempted to consider Lady Gertrude an active barrier to accomplishing their goal. The massive, whirling firestorm was probably some sort of attempt to blind or impede the Hundi's efforts to stop the knights from ascending the hill. Glancing back, he got a good look at the daemoness leveling a truly impressive looking crossbow before realizing that the other knights had reached the top of the hill. Fortunate for him, at least, as he began heading down to retrieve his crossbow, moving at a brisk jog. The Hundi cleaned up the firestorm, giving him time to fetch his crossbow and regroup with the rest of the knights, checking over his weapon to make sure the tumble hadn't damaged it in a way that would impact its capability as a weapon. Fortunately not, though the damp, heavy fog was thoroughly uncomfortable and left him feeling horribly humid, though he kept his mouth in check for now given how near death he had come during this contest. As much as he disagreed with the act, the Captain and Ser Renar had quite frankly saved him from a certain death. He could complain about that later, since they had gotten lucky with the other knights reaching the top before one of them was laid low.

The Hundi complimented their efforts, noting that most powerful mages, even those with retinues protecting them, would be hard pressed to avoid friendly fire, should they care about it at all. Their ability to avoid such things was at least noteworthy, though Rolan did make a quiet, offhand remark as he set about cleaning his crossbow of the more superficial dirt and grime. "If we have to cross another powerful mage, one would hope the defending retinue doesn't include teleporting daemons, that complicated things a bit."

The Hundi metaphorically dressing down Lady Gertrude would have been more of a sight to behold, if it wasn't for the fact Rolan had a sneaking suspicion that, as far as he had seen her in action, it would only cause her to dig her heels in harder on being a stuck up brat. Still, apparently any further discussion would be held in a few weeks time, referring to the actual world they were fighting to prove they were ready to return to, before sending a signal into the air. A flash of shadow, crimson scales, towards the gates where their last challenge awaited. Thrinax, and all they had to do was injure the dragon. Yes, because just injuring the dragon would be anywhere remotely close to just that easy. Loading his crossbow, his mind raced back to the time he spent planning while everyone else celebrated their progress. First problem, getting Thrinax to stay on the ground. Second, avoid getting wiped out in a focused attack. Third, landing a hit that could wound the dragon through its hide, which he wasn't going to waste crossbow bolts on. He had to aim for the eyes, as difficult as that was going to be.

"Lady Gertrude, you are our best bet to keeping Thrinax grounded, or at least low enough for the rest of the knights to reach. I would recommend that she take to the skies and strike from there, ideally to keep the air contested long enough for the rest of us to reach striking distance. Scatter and approach from as many directions as possible, limit the ability for an attack to take out several of us at once. I would rather not have to assault the hill again. On your command Captain."

Wounding Thrinax, while nominally easier than outright killing the dragon, was not what Rolan had planned for. He expected to have to fight the dragon to the death, and his planning and preparation had revolved around that. Landing one wounding blow should be easier, but it was never going to be that easy. Once the Captain gave out the orders, Rolan would pursue to the best of his ability, though he would be hanging back, watching for openings to land a good shot. He only had to get one good shot in to constitute as wounding the dragon, and he kept his spare alchemical supplies firmly stashed away for now. Wounding was a different objective, and most of the remaining supplies would either not assist in landing the first wound, or would possibly endanger his allies who were approaching in melee. He didn't have any more vials of the caustic smoke on hand, having decided that using it on the Hundi and her daemon was a better use than saving it for Thrinax. All that being said, Rolan was hoping he would not be rushed down into a melee quite so quickly during this final trial.

[VitaVitaAR]

An opening. She needed an opening. Even if the demon could heal her body effortlessly, if she could get an even briefly disabling strike then that would give a greater opportunity for Sir Rolan to break away and reach the top without serious harm. As long as at least one of them was able to make it, and the others all survived, that was success.

But that meant-

... It was over.

Sir Rolan hadn't made it, but someone else had.

Fanilly's shoulders sagged, and she found herself inhaling deeply. Despite the switch-up from what she'd been expecting, it had worked. They'd reached the top of the hill.

The sudden damp fog to extinguish the fires lasted only a moment, and the hundi mage informed them of their success... though she didn't have such high praise for Lady Gertrude.

Still, there was no time to be relieved, for they had one more task.

A final task that promised to be their most difficult.

Fanilly had never before laid eyes upon a real dragon before these strange 'dreams', and although this one was presumably part of this strange constructed world that didn't make it any less real here.

Not to mention just who this dragon was.

Thrinax. Resplendent, Crimson Thrinax. The great and beautiful, the shining ruby of the skies. The heartstone inferno. Friend to the legendary Prince. It was said that the flames of Thrinax were instrumental in Prince Erion's campaign against the Undead Armies of Lord Karvell. That he devoured the orc warchief Ergok, ending his endless raids. That he and Prince Erion toppled the Black Tower. And, finally, that he bore the prince's body to a distant and unknown land after his death.

They first faced the Prince's knights, and now they faced his friend.

Fanilly's hands were shaking. She couldn't help it. Simply hearing the dragon's roar was enough.

But she was Knight-Captain. She had to remain steady. She had to remain clear of mind. She had to pass correct judgement.

She had to assemble a plan of attack.

They had to only wound him.

They could do it. They had to.

"S-Sir Rolan is right," Fanilly began, after taking a deep breath to try and soothe her nerves, "Remaining gathered until we can keep him on the ground is a foolish idea. Lady Gertrude, to demonstrate your prowess against a dragon is the height of a mage's talents, isn't it?"

She hoped desperately that flattery was still enough to get through to the other girl.

"But rather then attacking, do you have any spells that might make it more difficult for him to see, or to maintain altitude?"

She doubted that many attack spells would be very useful against a dragon unless they took it by surprise. If they were, then injuring him would be far easier then she expected.

Instead, making flight too difficult and forcing him to land made more sense to the young Knight-Captain.

[Psyker Landshark]

Renar Hagen

Seemed someone else had succeeded in the overall goal, judging by the display of magic signaling the end of the test. Two down. One to go. Renar wasn't exactly pleased, with himself least of all, that he hadn't played more of a leading role in this matter, but fortunately, it wasn't as if this was an excursion that would win renown. In light of that, it stung less to be something of a bit part. And yet, against a dragon, they were all significantly lesser than the mage. Would that she wasn't smart enough to realize that and lord it over the rest.

The tales didn't quite do Thrinax justice. The damned thing was a veritable of crimson scale, fang, and claw. Dealing a mere injury was less than Renar had been expecting of the trial...if the target weren't so damned mightly. Even Steelfang seemed as if it would have difficulty piercing a scale directly, to say nothing of reaching the behemoth to begin with.

Their strategy for forcing it to ground revolved around the mage again, and Renar said nothing to contest that, as they lacked a better option. Instead, he'd have to formulate a plot to wound it. The eyes were the most obvious weak point, yes. But the wings were less armored than the rest of Thrinax's body as well. With that in mind, he spoke up.

"Even with it grounded, we've not a prayer of dealing significant enough damage to be dubbed an injury by any reasonable metric lest we aim for weak points. The eyes and wings lack the natural armor the remainder of the dragon has. As for how to reach said targets in melee..." His gaze shifted across the area.

"The hill. Once Thrinax is grounded, we need to bait it close enough to the top that a contingent of knights can make the jump and mount the beast. Hide them behind the other side until a signal is given, so as not to alert the dragon. That will give those of us who specialize in melee the best chance of dealing a critical blow. Most likely, we'll need to split into a distraction team and an assault team."

In truth, considering what the bulk of his training with the two brothers had consisted of, there was only one reasonable path Renar could take for himself to maximize their chances of victory. And besides, if he managed to stand against a dragon in a prolonged melee, that was worth near as much glory as actually striking the decisive blow.

"The majority of my preparation revolved around this exact scenario of facing the dragon toe-to-toe. I volunteer as a distraction once it's grounded."

[HereComesTheSnow]

Gerard Segremors

@Psyker Landshark@VitaVitaAR

"As ever, I'll go where I'm needed best, if that's how we proceed." Gerard said evenly enough as he and Fleuri ambled back down the slope, gilded eyes trailing the mass of crimson, a bloodied mountainside upon the skies. "I can surely strike the wings with authority, but would echo Renar's direction for similar reasons. I trained under Cyrus, I'm familiar with the duress of being faced with overwhelming force."

His hands rested upon the pommel of his longsword, unused in this leg of the challenge but still a comforting presence— one that it took a little effort not to clutch instead within a white-knuckled grip. As one of the three that had summited the hill, just before it had been enshrouded by a ring of flame, it had taken him a moment to register that the heat hadn't been at the Hundi's behest, perhaps to illustrate her point regarding reckless elementalism and the dangers it posed to their approach. So noted, regardless. He hadn't minded flame much in battles past—

The roar from afar hit his ears like distant thunder, and set his blood at a boil, stood his every hair on end, locked his gaze onto the glittering ruby at Erion's side. The same he had seen up close, when Gisela had cast her beacon and he had filled the sky overhead.

—But long before all this, before he ever dared believe facing flames down his lot in life, he had heard the songs of triumph and valor, countless stories from days long past that captured a boyhood imagination like a spider did a fly. Strength of arms and spirit versus the flames, scales, and fangs of a beast that was said to approach the celestial, the divine. The final flame of this crucible they'd been placed within. The final leg of their journey, through which they'd proven their will to persevere... even to the bitter end. Knighthood's highest calling.

A Dragon Hunt.

He cleared his throat, a crooked grin worming its way onto his face as he glanced between the Captain and Gisela's departing form. "Thanks to our second proctor and her magic, I'm already nice and warmed up for keeping myself out of the fire."

He would allow no more of a release for his excitement than that small moment, not while they had this challenge at the fore. There would be plenty of time to revel in this opportunity, much of it better than spending it all now. Part of the reason he'd stopped appending the 'Sir' to Cyrus's name were the times the big man had pasted him until he'd learned his lesson in dealing with living legends, in holding your awe under lock and key. Furor and festivity wore the same faces, if you got carried away. A breath saw it leave, and his mask of focus return.

"Additionally, we're familiar with working as a unit already. Above all else, the bait team is going to need to coordinate at a moment's notice— Safe distance, Thrinax's position, who has attention, all of that needs careful management, especially if we mean to pull the wool over his eyes. Easiest done with guys you know well."

They, Fleuri, and Fionn had already demonstrated that much against the Prince's cohort of bannermen. Pickings among the Knights that had made it this far felt a touch slimmed down— rote though it may have been, unless a radically different playbook was chosen? Rerunning that cell, at least in part, felt to him the most reliable option available.

[Octo]

Finally, the farce was over and done with. It was seriously annoying having to deal with a mage of Gisela's experience, and more humbling than Gertrude could ever be comfortable with, but that big smokescreen at the end may have been what clutched it. Gertrude was pretty proud of that idea, and was also expecting some degree of praise for how amazing she was. She wished she could just cut out the dumb middle parts and get to the point where Gisela admitted that Gertrude was talented and powerful.

But that point did not come. Instead, the Hundi woman prodded her boob and castigated her in front of everyone. How quickly positive feelings could be boiled down into an ichor of anger. Gertrude was frankly flabbergasted and felt betrayed, but she wouldn't let that show on her face. If she did, the old bat would win. She'd think she was right, vindicated somehow by Gertrude's own negative feelings.

No, there was no point in trying to reason with women like her, so Gertrude turned away and ignored the Hundi, only briefly moving to get a look at the Dragon they would be fighting. But that was only the second most important thing right now. When Rolan suggested a plan of action and Fanilly pleaded with her using the usual flattery, Gertrude only crossed her arms and puffed out her cheeks.

"I don't know, mistress. I'm feeling a bit disrespected right now," Gertrude growled, side-eyeing Gisela, "I might not be in the mood to help. I had only thought... as my captain and mistress, shouldn't you be defending your charges against slander?"

If Gertrude could manipulate Fanilly into standing up for her, even if it wasn't genuine, it might be enough to cut the bitterness she was feeling. Besides, she wanted to see that tiny, inexperienced wreck talk back to someone stronger than her. At the very least, it would be amusing.

"Then again, all this time and you haven't even tried getting to know your newest recruit. Maybe you were just that busy, or maybe you just don't care..."

She figured guilt would work, if nothing else.