[IC] Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

[Marlowe]

MENTIONS: Everyone

The mystrel woman was not interested in much deliberation. Neve winced as their prisoner’s life was cut short in a haze of crimson. Swallowing roughly, she glanced away from the man’s shuddering form in an attempt to ignore the post-mortem tremors that wracked his body. No matter how many times she had witnessed death before, there was simply no getting used to it. The smell of blood, tarnished steel, and burning gunpowder was still fresh in the air, though all she could focus on was the sour stench of excrement that wafted from the corpse at her feet. Bile rose into her throat as she watched scarlet gather into a thick pool upon the verdurous sheen of the malachite.

A hand set itself on her shoulder, earning its owner a flinch of surprise. Neve cast her gaze over at Galahad and tightened her lips. ”Right.”

The rest of them were quick to follow Leifur. Armored cadavers lined the corridors, each of them bearing the viridescent hue of Edrite soldiers or the black colors of the strange men’s mail. Neve took in the sight as she kept to the center of their group, her eyes wide as platters. Her knuckles burned white around the base of her staff. Rivers of blood marred the brilliant floors with their sanguine chroma as they gathered into stagnant, foul smelling lakes along the hem of the walls. Nevertheless, no one said anything as they winded around the labyrinth of hallways. Even if she did want to say something, she was sure that all she could muster out was silence.

Slowly but surely, the clamor of battle once again swelled in the air, its rhythm matching the violent thrumming of her heart. Leifur had guided them down a long, cherry-wood stairwell whose walls were painted a golden yellow. They reached the bottom and pushed through another hallway and a set of heavy doors– and it was there, in the royal garden’s courtyard, that they came face-to-face with another skirmish. Many enemy soldiers littered the cobblestone grounds, frozen stiff in the face of death, as heavily-armored Edrite knights effortlessly weaved around the rain of gunfire. Their emerald platemail rippled under the moonlight as they struck down their foes with the ferocity of a lightning strike. Many of their enemies were felled under the brutal blows and bulletfire of their gunblades and greatswords. By the time Neve and the rest stepped out from behind the door, their numbers already dwindled.

A keen ripple of movement from the middle of the throng caught her attention. Neve’s eyes widened when she saw a young man with sunset-golden hair tied back in an entourage of azure ribbons. Clad in sapphire armor, the lord of Edren raised his lance to the center of his body as he ran through his opponent without a hint of hesitation or fear. The king is fighting? she thought in alarm, Shouldn’t he be somewhere safe?

Now wasn’t a good time to think. Their arrival had drawn the attention of enemy combatants who had refused to succumb to the Edrites’ onslaught. In a fraction of an instant, a cluster of soldiers to their left raised their rifles towards them. For a moment, Neve thought it was their turn to be riddled with holes. A grimace pulled over her lips as she raised her staff and began to channel another shielding spell– but it was too late. Matron above–

Etro must have heard her plea. Another group had splintered off from the assembly of knights and cut through the remnants of soldiers with their gunblades. Blood splattered to the ground as their blades cut through their armor like butter and rent the flesh underneath. There were cries of shock and moans of pain as the helmed men crashed to the ground– and within moments they bled out and lay still. Then, there was nothing but silence.

Neve stared at their saviors. They had turned to face them as they lowered their bloodied weapons. They bore not the emerald sheen of Edrite knights, but typical garb that hailed from elsewhere but there. Team Unicorn members, she realized, recognizing their leader, a tall blond man with a stern face. She offered him a smile, but all she received in return was a toothy scowl.

Frowning, she dipped her head in gratitude either way. ”Thank you for your help.”

”About time you lot showed up.” He bared his teeth at her. ”Make yourself useful, healer. Tend to the wounded.”

His words were like knives that pierced through her robes. Neve averted her eyes to the Edrite knights who had clustered around their liege as they attended to him. Leonhart appeared unharmed as he ducked his head towards his men in quiet conversation. Her eyes dropped to their armor. Though they had been prone to the storm of bullets, the platemail had held up well against their enemies; she only spotted a few dents and scuffs that had marred their armor. From what she could see, no one was injured.

”I don’t believe I’m–”

A flash of steel. All of a sudden, Neve found herself face-to-face with the tip of the man’s gunblade.

”Are you slow or just stupid?” he spat, ”Do you have any idea what we’ve just been through? While you were up there dreaming the night away, we were fighting for our lives. Now do as I say, girl!”

[Psyker Landshark]

Ranbu no Izayoi

It boded poorly that the Edrenian dragoon was the most agreeable and reasonable person of this bunch so far. Izayoi wasn't exactly pleased to be facing the familiar armor, narrowing down just who was within it from his absence, but at the very least, it meant the man was a competent warrior. Still, the Limbtaker grit her teeth as the red mage and swordsman had the temerity to talk down to her. Discipline and self-control barely kept her from hissing a furious response at them. They had not seen what she had. Not suffered at the hands of the invaders as she did.

Instead, she silently accompanied the group as they dashed through the castle halls, one hand kept on the hilt of her sword at all times. Experience and war had her rapidly tallying up the count of both dead Valheimians and Edrenians as they passed fresh corpses, and the sum wasn't promising on either end. How large of a strike force had Valheim snuck into this citadel? Within the very capital of Edren, where security was supposed to be at its highest? Izayoi's ever-present scowl only deepened as they ran further.

As they emerged into the courtyard, old reflexes began to kick in. Izayoi took in the entire situation at a glance, her blade inching slightly out of its scabbard as she prepared to draw. At the very least, these Edrenians were making as good a showing as she'd expected. More gunblades than she'd thought, though. It seemed Edren's elites had been advancing further in technology since the last war. A squadron of Valheim gunners began to sight the Kirin party, and Izayoi prepared to dash forward, only to halt as the Skaelians of Team Unicorn solved the problem for them...only to cause another problem themselves.

The absolute gall of this blunderer, to threaten a supposed ally! And a healer, at that. This would not stand. From the sides of the group, Izayoi blurred from vision, weaving her way through the Unicorns to emerge behind the fighter in their very back. Her sword was unsheathed, its edge resting just at the tip of the side of the man's neck.

"Yes, do threaten the healer that holds your lives in her palms. A poor leader indeed, to so alienate a far more important tactical resource than yourself." She drawled calmly, glaring daggers at the fool of a Skaelian. "Continue on as you are, and she'll have yet more work to do. Now lay down your arms, unless you wish to finish what the Valheimians began. Apologize, and I may even leave your man here unscarred."

[Click This]

---

Éliane’s expression darkened as she passed by the dead in the passageways, noting the presence of both Edrenian and Valheimian fallen. How had such a strike force penetrated this deeply into a castle this fortified? Although she hadn’t been the part of the Household Guards that actually guarded the Overseer, she knew enough about castle defense to know that there were precious few ways to reach the protected sections of a keep this easily. Treachery was usually the culprit, and considering how she had been surprised, she had to assume it was so.

What irritated her, though, was that it was clear that she had missed most of the fighting where she could have made a difference. Moving through the empty corridors, she was merely a witness to the dead and dying. There was no aid that she could render there.

Battle still continued elsewhere, though, and the gunbreaker broke into a sprint in the direction of the telltale report of gunfire. From the way the cracks and pops of bullets began to die out, however, it was clear that she would be coming into a fight that was at its end.

Bursting into the courtyard of the royal garden, Éliane took a split second to process the scene in front of her. The Edrenian king and knights had obviously been pitted against a significant enemy force, and from the way the men stood, had been assisted by a party of men with familiar uniforms. They were obviously her countrymen from one of the other teams. There was also another group she identified as Team Kirin. From the way the smoke still hung in the air, and the manner in which the knights and gunbreakers swept their weapons over the fallen Valheimians, the fight for the courtyard had ended mere moments ago.

A bit disappointing, really, even if Jacques and Anne had been avenged by Skaelans.

For a moment, it looked like her countrymen were talking to those from Kirin when the short exchange suddenly erupted into bared arms. Éliane didn’t know what had happened, but she would always trust her countrymen over the dubious word of a foreigner.

She grinned. Perhaps there would still be a fight after all.

She still had her gunblade out, so with a wind-assisted sprint and a jump, she appeared and pointed the tip of blade at the swordswoman from Osprey that was threatening her countryman in the same manner she had done. It was still coated with the blood from running one of the Valheimians through.

“If you so much as move, I’ll shoot,” she warned. “I thought everybody was supposed to be allies here?”

If she wasn’t recognized, then the obvious Skaelan guards’ uniform made it obvious why she had suddenly intervened.

[Dezuel]

Zeidgram

The red mage couldn't wait to be out of the confines of the city, these overly pompous buildings and the artificial lights that decorated the city itself. Out to a more natural view, the streams, the forests, the plains and hills. So it were with slight annoyance that he followed after Arton, who had given chase after Leifur. Still not without tossing glances over his shoulder just to make sure to keep his back secure from Izayoi. He were not worried about Galahad, Neve or even the seemingly clumsy black mage, Aelphis. There had been some injuries in the rooms, and some decided to stay behind because of them or to tend to those which needed aid. At least that were to his knowledge, some military parade dressed woman had also joined them. Had she'd been at their table? Such pondering would have to wait.

As the viera had guided them down various pathways and down some stairwell, the sight of the courtyard was met with a slight grunt from the red mage as he drew his sword again, no longer confined within some stairwell or corridors, he felt more at ease. Outdoors at last, it was a step in the right direction. Still he intended to leave as soon as possible. These men and women which were fighting off the Valheim assailants were a small matter compared to the larger picture. They had come for one reason alone, to deal with the blight. The thing which affected the most amount of people, no matter where they were from or who they were. As the red mage much like the others came face to face with what seemed to be members from the Unicorn group, and in the distance there had been further fighting.

A tall blonde man belonging to the group had thought it fitting to waste their time by begging for healing. Not only that but it seemed he had some lack of manners and were now pointing his weapon at Neve of all people. Manners were something you learnt, and was reserved for those who deserved it. Clearly Neve was deserving of such at the very least.

'What a waste of flesh, a thickheaded bully and his childish demands. We don't have time for this menial waste of brainmatter...' The red mage's eyes narrowed slightly, before he assumed a more calm expression, taking a few steps forwards, walking up close to Neve as he heard Izayoi's voice coming from the back of the other group. And someone else drawing their weapon on her. Not one to waste a good opportunity, it was natural that he would act.

"Let's not get things out of hand! Girl! What are you doing? Tend to the wounded!" Zeidgram spoke out loudly in an angry sounding manner, almost as if he were giving Neve an order as he stepped up, for a brief moment the mage gave her a wink with one of his eyes as he finished his words. Soon after his eyes and body shifted, his sword slicing upwards quickly from it's relaxed pose, aiming to slam into the gunblade of the blonde man to send any bullets of his up into the sky and away from Neve's face. The red mage would follow his unusually direct action by attempting to slam the pommel of his sword into the man's face, soon after having gotten his blade out of the way. After all. Zeidgram was a healer too. It was their seemingly duty to tend to the wounded, and this man was wounded severely in the head. Nothing that abit of blunt force couldn't momentary cure.

"Weapons! Drop them! Or I'll skewer this man's jewelry to the point he would have to do a manhood measurement contest against girls in order to not feel wounded!" Zeidgram yelled out towards the group ahead of them, the tip of his sword moving to point towards the blonde man's pelvis. Ofcourse he had no intention of cutting the man's family tree down by a couple of generations, then again in order to maintain a fine garden you would have to remove weeds and cut off excessive branches. No doubt things wouldn't spiral out of control... further. They had work to do, more important work as far as he was concerned.

[vietmyke]

Galahad Caradoc

---

"It's just one thing after another it seems." Galahad grumbled darkly. They had arrived in the the courtyard just in time to find Leonhart and his guards being attacked by a group of Valheim soldiers. Galahad's legs had tensed, he was about to leap into the air to aid his cousin when another group of adventurers had arrived- seemingly members of Team Unicorn. Galahad was about to commend them on their quick work when one of them leveled their weapon at Neve, their team healer. His hand clenched around his halberd, taking a step forward to say something.

However, it appeared others were faster than he- within moments Izayoi and another individual were pointing weapons at one another, while Zeidgram had slammed his weapon into the threatening man- undoubtedly worsening the already hair trigger tensions. Things were spiraling out of control and fast, and knowing how short a few of the tempers in the room were, Galahad feared that things were about to turn deadly.

"Enough!" Galahad slammed the butt of his halberd upon a tile on the courtyard, cracking it. His voice boomed through the courtyard, finally taking on the full timbre of his command voice, a far cry from the softer tone he'd been speaking with up until now. Stepping forward slightly, Galahad placed himself in front of their accosted white mage, an arm pushing her behind the bulk of his armor. Notably though, Galahad didn't level his weapon at anyone. The blue armor and Edrenian crest made him look more like a member of Leonhart's personal cohort than it did a passing adventurer.

"Everyone needs to lower their weapons and take a step back." Galahad continued, his voice now returning to its softer tone. "Tensions are high, people may be hurt. But the Gunbreaker is right, we are supposed to be allies right now. There may still be more valheim in the castle, and we can't afford to be pointing weapons inward, when we should be pointing them outwards."

Galahad's helmeted head shifted from the gunbreaker, to the samurai, to the red mage and the blonde. "If your party has wounded, they should he tended to, but not with threats against the life of our healer. That sounds reasonable enough, doesn't it?"

[Vertigo]

𝔏𝔢𝔦𝔣𝔲𝔯 𝔊𝔲ð𝔪𝔲𝔫𝔡𝔰𝔰𝔬𝔫

__________________________________________________

Leifur had yet to get too far from the argument when he heard it wind down. He picked up footsteps; one set, then two. Heavy. Glancing over his shoulder, he found exactly who he'd expected to; Arton and Galahad. Out of everyone present, they were the ones he expected to focus on the mission the most. The viera was about to give the two an acknowledging nod, when he caught Arton murmur something under his breath. It had likely not been meant for him to hear, but few things escaped the sensitive ears of a viera, especially this close by. Furi? A name, most likely. He would commit it to memory, whatever it meant.

Galahad caught up with Arton, and from somewhere behind him, Leifur could hear more footsteps, and then a shout. Butterboy. At least there was no longer a danger of him alerting potential enemies to their presence; the arguing from earlier had already done a fine job at that.

There seemed to be no danger of such anyway; everyone they met on the corridors was long gone, a victim to a senseless battle. Corpses clad in armour, some with anger or surprise frozen on their faces, some with no discernible faces left at all. They'd been caught in heavy gunfire.

... Gunfire that Leifur could hear once more. He picked up his pace eagerly - not because he'd be excited to spill more blood, or to save someone from having theirs spilled, but because he was curious. He needed to understand how this happened, how so many soldiers made it so far into the castle, especially on a day like this, when security should have been particularly tight. It was inconceivable.

They arrived to the scene of a battle, catching a glimpse of the king, fighting, when they found themselves at the more unfortunate end of a rifle. Leifur was preparing for a dash, leg muscles tensed, when the members of another team cut down the gunmen - then proceeded to start barking orders and level a weapon at Neve's face, clearly blind to the very visible proof that their team had been fighting as well.

Had the others not been faster, Leifur would've attempted to cleave the man's gunblade in half, maybe an arm to go with it, out of sheer reflex. Thankfully, the urge was quelled by a stalemate, the subsequent breaking of it and then, as usual, Galahad.

Leifur glanced at the Skaelan who'd joined the fray, entirely sure he recognized her. Not from a personal account, but by reputation. It mattered little right now, though; he'd let the others resolve this matter, and move on to another. To the king, unharmed, and his troupe, equally so.

"A shame to find you without injury," Leifur raised his voice upon approach, but not his weapon. He was angry, not a threat looking to be cut down. "Considering the sorry state of so many of your men - and guests. Slaughtered in your own castle, on the day you threw a feast. Either you're a conspirator, or entirely undeserving of a crown. Explain yourself, and perhaps we'll know which."

[Ithradine]

Location: Balmung Castle | Castle Grounds

Mentions: N/A

---

Arton quickly turned to Neve while Galahad spoke, desperately trying to maintain his composure in the face of the growing chaos "Neve, let's see if anyone could you use your help. I'll make sure you don't get..." His gaze briefly flicked to the stand-off "...interrupted.". He placed a hand on her shoulder from behind with a gentle push in case the situation had made her freeze up. If a brawl was to break out, it'd be bad if the healer of their group got caught up in it. At this point, he doubt throwing his own voice and weight around would do any good.

It had astonished him how quickly Ranbu had jumped to the aid of Neve. Her methods might have been questionable but there was no denying her instincts and reactions were beyond words. Truth be told, if she hadn't moved first then Arton would have placed himself between Neve and the aggressive man. He didn't agree taking it to the degree she did, but he also respected the quick decision to defend a comrade. It was more of surprise that Zeidgram decided to join her in escalation, going so far as to strike one of the Skaellans and confirmed one of his theories about the man.

"I'm sure Galahad can smooth things over...I mean, I hope so." Arton tried to reassure Neve, but he was quite uncertain himself what was about to unfold. It was a chance, perhaps subconsciously, to distance himself from his countrymen. He never felt at ease with them "So, I'm not too bad at first-aid if you need me to help." Arton tried to offer. He was hesitant to help Galahad mediate the situation, not due to his incapability to do so but for the backlash it might incite. He was the humble, stalwart swordsman Arton and that was he had to be.

[Cu Chulainn]

Balmung Castle - Courtyard
Catching Up

---

_{Specific Mentions:}

So... much... running...

Aelphis had paused for a bit in the middle of the hallway, resting a hand on the wall as he leaned over to recuperate. Gods, if he had to do this much running on the field, he'd probably be dead before he even had a lick of that Gil! Aelphis was regretting not investing into any materia that would increase his physique in any way. That would have been better than the one he was shackled with. Procuring the green orb in his sleeve, Aelphis actually wondered for a bit about its uses. Really, all he used it for was for pest removal, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized that toads are pretty fast and light. Maybe turning into one would help him catch up with the rest!

Speaking of the rest, Aelphis began to take in his surroundings, specifically the bodies littered around the hallways he was in. Truthfully, the dead never really bothered Aelphis in the past. After all, one of his earliest lessons in alchemy and magic involved processing carcasses to their base materials. What made the Faye a bit on-edge, however, was the fact that he recognized some of these bodies. For instance, the Sollan Vagrant he was leaning over!

Wait a minute. That guy spilled wine on Aelphis's shoes when they were making their way to their sleeping quarters. Aelphis gave his body a firm kick to the ribs, flinching backwards at the pain of kicking solid steel. Right, he was wearing a breastplate.

Well, between his bruised foot and his aching legs, there was no way Aelphis would catch up to the others in his condition! So instead, he would test his thesis out, procuring the green orb. Thank the Skaelans for their innovation! Thankfully, he didn't even need to come up with some magical mumbo-jumbo like he does with his spells! All he needed to do was focus on the aether held within the orb and...

Poof

With a puff of purple smoke, Aelphis's very form would change into that of a... toad. Nothing special or fancy, just a toad. On one hand, the shock of your body shifting into something smaller and slimier had induced the Faye into a bit of minor shock, but on the other hand, his feet were in less pain! Well, time to hop on over to the rest!

...

By the time Aelphis had reached the courtyard, a few people already had their weapons drawn on each other. At first, Aelphis thought more Valheimans were about, and prepared to recite (think very hard on) the incantations needed to turn back to his natural form. It was only after he realized that it was his team against those from the other group that he second-guessed that decision. Were they fighting each other already? And is that their boss over there? Things are looking pretty tense...

... and Aelphis has decided he is not having none of it, today. Instead of making his grand appearance, he would instead hop back into the hallway he was walking from and shift back, peeking over to see what would come about from this encounter.

[Marlowe]

MENTIONS: Everyone

Things escalated far too quickly for her liking. Neve’s eyes widened when Izayoi shot forward in the blink of an eye. Before she knew it, the swordswoman held her blade flush against the flesh of a Unicorn’s throat. The sight of his face, which quivered in fear, was enough to further sour the taste in her throat. Just when she thought that things couldn’t get any worse, they did. An eccentric red-head had approached Izayoi and threatened her with her gunblade. Zeidgram had smashed the tall blonde man in the face, and the other had doubled over in pain as crimson gushed from his nose. By the time he recuperated from the blow, the red mage had the tip of his blade pointed towards his genitals.

The man scowled up at him, ruby-red blood dribbling down his chin as he released a slew of curses up at him before his guttural voice hardened into decipherable words. ”How dare you strike me? Don’t you know who I am?”

At this point in time, Neve didn’t care about who he was or wasn’t. All she wanted to do was go back to sleep. Thank Etro Galahad was able to deescalate the situation at hand. She didn’t want to know what would have happened next. And, judging from the dangerous glint in the Unicorns’ eyes, she was sure they made more than one enemy that night.

She nodded at Arton’s suggestion. He was another of their number that appeared to be the most calm-headed. Either way, it was best if they moved on. Just as she went to lead the way back into the castle, she eyed the viera male approaching the gathering of knights. A hard lump formed in her throat as she witnessed Leonhart’s face scrunch up for a split moment, then grow relaxed once more as he dipped his head toward the frustrated man. Her ears strained for the king’s words.

”It appears that a number of Valheimian soldiers infiltrated the castle under the guise of wishing to give aid… though I do understand your concerns, fair viera. Know that this is the first time in many years that our foe has been spotted so far inland and the very first instance in which they have attacked the castle. I will take note of their sudden boldness and adjust accordingly– but for now, I thank you for your aid in neutralizing our foes. You have shown me your prowess and talent, and now I am more than certain that I made the correct choice in recruiting you for aid.” He stepped out from betwixt his knights as he turned his gaze back towards the rest of them. ”I must ask you to not fight amongst one another. I’m afraid that, if more blood is spilled tonight, I will not hesitate in sending my knights to smooth over any transgressions.”

His features brightened slightly as he turned to Galahad. ”It’s in everyone’s best interest to listen to my dear cousin. I have placed my trust in him many times before.

”As for the coming morn, I shall provide you all with fresh, purebred, brave chocobo who long to whisk away through the grasslands and forests of our fine Edren. Wagons shall also be granted to each squadron, along with medical supplies and rations that are certain to last you long into your journeys. For the time being, I ask that you return to your quarters and rest. Worry not– security shall be increased tenfold and guards will be posted in each and every corridor. Please, sheathe your blades and retire to your dormitories.”

Neve glanced between Kirin, Unicorn, and Leonhart, her heartbeat throbbing in her throat. What stopped everyone from goring each other anyways? To her relief, the leader of the opposite group scoffed, spat a rosy glob of blood and saliva at his feet, and sulked away along with the rest of his party.

It was finally over with. At least, she liked to hope so. Neve released a harsh breath and cocked her head up at Arton. ”Come,” she said, her breath light and tense at the same time. ”We have work to do.”

[Psyker Landshark]

Ranbu no Izayoi

Frankly, Izayoi was impressed, despite herself. Even considering how much slower she was compared to her prime, it was still quite the feat to actually come this close to ending her life. Of course, no amount of respect for this redheaded Skaelian's abilities would overrule the absolute fury she felt at herself for growing weak enough to allow such a blade to reach her. That fury influenced her next decision by a significant amount.

Out of spite, Izayoi only tightened her grip on her sword and drove it ever so slightly into the side of the man's neck to pierce skin, sneering at the new woman as her victim whimpered.

"Go on." She said quietly, her gaze unwavering. "Fire. My blade will still find its mark. Will you let your countryman die for this?" With so little left to live for besides vengeance, she felt no compunction about wagering her own life in this standoff. The rest of her party's actions were immaterial to Izayoi, even as she took note of them from the corner of her eye. In this moment, all that mattered were the next few seconds.

But the tension was cut with the Edrenian king finally moving to stop the brewing feud. Hmph. What an unsatisfying finish. Izayoi waited patiently for the first offender to back down before she looked back to Eliane.

"Your countryman threatened our compatriot's life first. I merely thought it appropriate to respond in kind." Was the only explanation Izayoi gave as she slowly lowered her sword from the man's neck, watching dispassionately as he ran off to rejoin his party. Judging by the sudden smell in the air, he may have even soiled himself. With everything settled, she deliberately turned her back on the Skaelian gunbreaker, meeting the gaze of the king's knights in challenge for a moment. For obvious reasons, it seemed several had their attention on her specifically. Once upon a time, she would have decided to rattle them a bit. But now, the prospect held little interest to her. So with a dismissive huff, Izayoi sheathed her sword, glancing back at Eliane briefly.

"Skaelian. Reaching my throat with a blade proves you are not without worth. Consider joining us, rather than those bleating fools." Her piece said, Izayoi started trudging back over towards her party.

"You are unharmed?" The samurai asked Neve as she approached, briefly looking over where the Unicorn idiot had pointed a blade at her. No apparent injuries. "Good. Try to get some rest." She advised, turning to return to their chambers herself. "The journey ahead will be long, and the roads are not without peril these days. It would be best to save your strength."

She started to walk off, but a particular thought ran through her mind. Ugh. Of course. They should have established this earlier.

"One last thing." Izayoi turned around to face the group. "We must establish a clear chain of command. One among us ought to lead." She took in a breath, closing her eyes. "It will not be me." If her regrets on her chosen path coalseced in a singular moment, it was the doomed last stand she'd dragged good, loyal men into to satisfy her own shattered pride. Never again. Her eyes opened, gazing at one person in particular.

"I nominate the dragoon. You have command experience, do you not, Lord?"

@Ambra @Click This @vietmyke

[Dezuel]

Zeidgram

The pommel of his blade had found it's mark and the blonde man's nose had been initiated, like slamming a bottle of a newly built ship that was ready to set sail for the first time. Much akin to their journey.

The foolish man, if the mage even considered him as such had resorted with some words and tone of voice which potentially marked him as part of nobility, or at least from a family of influence. These things were minor, like a drop of water in the vast seas. Why? Because the man said it himself. Zeidgram didn't know who he were, not like it mattered much. The man had displayed a lack of wits in pointing his weapon at Neve. It was because of pitiful beings such as him that the world were in the state it was in. People overly concerned with material wealth, fawning and pompous pandering each others egos until they would burst open.

No doubt were the blight a result of such arrogance and egos, perhaps the blight was just in striking down against them. Yet at the same time, the blight was unrelenting and didn't discriminate. The world was still beautiful, as long as there were beauty left in it, it was worth fighting for. The red mage dreaded the very thought of being proven wrong, that the world was beyond saving and rotten to the core. In a different world, perhaps he would have brought forth the death of everyone in the world, given the right time and moment. But that was not the world he knew.

"Do you memorize and name every ant you happen to stumble upon while wandering the roads?" The red mage replied back to the blonde man in a hushed tone, almost a whisper. His lips forming an amused and mocking smile.

'This boy is weak in mind and body both. Have abit of anger free of charge, let it fester and bring your own undoing. The limbtaker was right in that at the very least. Only a matter of time before these other groups plunge upon each other like starving wolves, seeking to tear the flesh away from oneanother. May your anger make you stumble at your own fang when such a moment arise.' Zeidgram mused in his own head, before cringing slightly in recoil to Galahad slamming the end of his halberd into the ground and raising his voice.

The red mage allowed his face to assume a blank expression, then he took a deep inhale and let out a sigh. 'Noisy.' He furrowed his eyebrows, but it was a minor inconvinience in comparison to possibly having to deal with these other groups later down the road. Was it up to him, he would poison their water supply before they'd set off. Save them the trouble of having contend with them. Ofcourse a lesser poison which would just render them unable to pursue. The king of Edren, Leonhart had approached and given his own input and attempted to calm down the tension in the air. But all that the red mage heard was what he suspected all along, that the connection between the king and Galahad was strong. Strong enough to know that the dragoon could not be trusted to comply with his plan later down the road. Their interests would clash. Perhaps he could set the limbtaker or the woman which had seemingly sided with the other group against them upon him when such a moment would present itself.

No doubt they wouldn't simply let Galahad have his way and aid in strengthening Edren's position in the world, it would upset the balance. Leonhart had already shown his inability to even keep his own base secure, and the mage knew that in order to have a stable tower, one needed a good base. But even if he considered Leonhart and his family a collection of fools, it might serve better to leave a fool in charge than a more wise and dangerous ruler. According to said king, they were more or less commanded to return to their respective rooms and that he would position more guards over his base, but also providing one of those overgrown meatsticks as a mount, including a wagon and other supplies. The king was eager to send them away, but not to the point of suicidally rushing forth. There was definitely something he knew about the blight which he had not told them about.

Galahad was therefor someone who would have to be dealt with further down the road. Whatever the king had in mind, the dragoon was no doubt in cohoots with it. As if on cue to make matters worse, the limbtaker had spoken up about the lack of a chain of command. She brought forth a valid point, a leader would make things go alot smoother. Potentially. But the red mage's optimism changed into sheer displeasure on hearing her nomination.

Galahad.

Izayoi's reluctance to take the position herself made the red mage ponder as to why a renowned general would simply toss away such a chance, were it because a defeated general had no longer any say? The ability to nominate someone, due to some form of doubt or weariness, was actually a sign of being able to make the right decisions. Therefor it was clear to the red mage, that the samurai was a suitable candidate, despite her seemingly personal matter with Valheim and past events. Yet there were someone else he had in mind that was ideal for the task ahead. He had to put an instant stop to Izayoi's nomination plan no matter what. Even if the dragoon would potentially make some mistake later down the road which could make him seem incapable, it was simply not worth the chance of letting him be in charge of pairings of their group. There were people in the group he had to converse with, and the dragoon was a threat to that. Thus he stepped forwards to almost have a standoff against Galahad.

"I agree with the limbtaker, we've ought to nominate a leader of our entourage. Man or woman, I have no issue following either, but this... Lord? This dragoon? Hmph. Arton, I cannot imagine anyone having anything against you assuming the estreemed role. How about it, will you take such a mantle for the sake of the world?" Zeidgram began to approach Arton as he was about to follow Neve and aid the wounded.

"You'll have my support in such an endeavour, how about it?." The red mage smiled softly while nodding his head to Arton, before hurling a disapproving glance towards Galahad. No matter what happened, Galahad could not be allowed to lead their group. He would ruin everything, there was no doubt in the mage's heart about that. Even the butterslipper was a more viable choice to him. Speaking of said pointy-eared individual. Where did he go? It was something to look into later, for now the mage decided to follow Arton and Neve to aid the wounded. 'I'll mend this broken world. Don't get in my way, you slithering lords of false wealth.'

@Psyker Landshark@Ambra@Ithradine@vietmyke

[Vertigo]

𝔏𝔢𝔦𝔣𝔲𝔯 𝔊𝔲ð𝔪𝔲𝔫𝔡𝔰𝔰𝔬𝔫

__________________________________________________

The confrontation with the Unicorns seemed so far away that it might as well have happened on another continent. Every bit of the viera's attention was reserved for the king and his knights. Any one of them could turn out a zealous fool, eager to please his king by opening fire at a perceived dissident. None of them did. Well-behaved, these pups.

The viera could've sworn he caught a threat of a frown on the king's face, though it was gone by the time he spoke. His tone was calm, placating, and in its formality, devoid of sympathy for the fallen. Leifur would have preferred the humanity of a frown, of anger. This... was all so very practiced; flattery and excuses, wrapped up in empty promises, all to say that he had, in fact, been entirely unprepared for the occasion.

The king truly was but a boy - and quick to try and shift responsibility to another, Leifur noted, as Leonhart directed the group's attention to his cousin. The king must've known his trust was a burden most heavy for a knight.

"Keep your guards, we can do without," Leifur spat as he turned to leave, one ear already turned to listen in on the conversation starting a little ways ahead. Something about a leader. Before letting up his glare, however, he added: "I should hope that along with the birds and the bread, what you'll offer us in the morrow is all you've gathered of tonight's attack. Their means, motive, something, anything, before we set out to risk life and limb for your cause."

Were the Valheimians truly so hellbent on stopping anyone from retrieving the Light? Surely one of them must've talked, or at the very least let slip something in a moment of anger or fear. Or so he hoped.

The conversation Leifur arrived to was indeed one of leadership. Izayoi nominated Galahad. More trust, more responsibility, piled onto someone so young - if, so far, capable. But then, looking at their group, they didn't exactly have an abundance of options.

Zeidgram seemed to think otherwise. In a move that raised the viera's brow, the mage nominated Arton. Not the worst choice to be sure, but still a peculiar one. Leifur couldn't imagine it came from an unbiased mind. What was the man planning?

"However fond of him you are, he lacks the experience and authority. A fine soldier does not equal a fine leader," Leifur stated outright, arms crossed upon approach. "This is not a game, mage. You've offered no grounds for your support of him, or for your disdain towards Galahad. And it isn't for a lack of love for words. Whatever happened to the prose?"

He shook his head, certainly not waiting for an answer. "I concur with Izayoi. Until he gives me reason to think otherwise, I'm in support of the lordling."

And if he ever did prove to be lacking, it wouldn't be the first time Leifur disobeyed authority.

[Dezuel]

[Removed post. Continue as usual.]

[vietmyke]

Galahad Caradoc

---

"And you wonder why I don't like visiting you, cousin..." Galahad sighed, pulling his helmet off as Leonhardt tried to defuse the tensions in the courtyard. Etro knew Galahad certainly loved the man, but Leonhardt's ways never always made sense to Galahad, even when they were younger. Still, even if his words did not satisfy everyone in attendance, they still performed their intended function, which was to break the standoff. Weapons were lowered and conflict was avoided- at least for the time being. Galahad had the sinking suspicion that such a peace wouldn't last for long. On another day, Galahad mightve taken offense at the Viera's words, questioning and accusing his king, but as things stood, tensions were high enough without the party bickering with each other over something as insignificant as words.

Turning back to their motley crew, Galahad took stock of his comrades. Izayoi had offered the Skaelian gunbreaker a position in their party- not sure whose place that was to offer one another positions, but the samurai had a nose for talent at the very least, and an extra blade at their side was another not pointed at then. Arton had taken Neve to begin caring for the wounded, a good head on his shoulders, that one. The two weren't dissimilar in age- in many ways, the swordsman reminded Galahad of his younger brother.

Galahad frowned, he hadn't thought of Gareth in a little while. Earnest steadfast, and unfortunately, dead before his time. Lost in the war with Osprey- a conflict Galahad would sooner forget. Even if he understood the politics of it, he had never particularly cared to participate. War was an old man's game fought and bled for by his sons and daughters. Gareth was unfortunately just another piece lost in a rivalry so old that Galahad couldn't even remember when it started.

Galahad returned to the conversation in time to hear Izayoi bring up the topic of leadership in the party- it was a question that had to be asked sooner or later. Galahad already had a few ideas of people he might've thought suitable, or people who might've thought themselves suitable. How surprised he was then, when Izayoi nominated him to the role of leadership. Galahad raised a surprised eyebrow- though he had the feeling the nomination wasn't because the woman had a change of heart and suddenly liked Edrenians.

Before he could respond, the red mage was quick to interject, standing across from him as though they were about to duel- was that what he wanted? Galahad scoffed- he had no idea what the Red mage's problem was, but he certainly seemed to have some issue the Dragoon at any given opportunity. From before they'd even met the mage had seemingly been intent on otherwise making a fool of him whenever possible. Galahad's eyes returned to Arton as the red mage continued, signaling his favor for the shield warrior.

"If you have a problem with me just say it." Galahad asserted, "I'd rather know now than wake up with your blade in my spine."

Leifur echoed Galahad's thoughts well, the man was a talented fighter but he lacked the experience. A skilled leader was more than just a talented warrior- though it certainly helped. Leadership was a burden more than it was a privilege. Bad things happened, hard decisions had to be made, and the consequences would ultimately fall on who was in charge- whether that was Galahad or someone else. Leifur's support was succinct and simple- he'd support Galahad, so long as he wasn't an idiot. A fair enough stipulation as he'd ever heard. Galahad offered the viera a short, acknowledging nod.

"Arton is reliable and steadfast." Galahad said acknowledgingly, as he approached the swordsman. "I trust him readily in a fight, but I agree, he doesn't have enough experience- yet anyway."

"If everyone here is mostly in agreement, I will take on this burden." Galahad continued, his eyes slowly looking over his new companions for the time being. There was no need for flowery speeches or grand promises of devotion. They were a collection of mercenaries, soldiers and wanderers, they'd make their opinions well known without his input- his only goal would be to point their collective energy in a way that wouldn't kill them all.

"Our experiences and skills are vast and varied, if you'd have suggestions, I would hear them. I have no intentions on running a dictatorship." Galahad's eyes rested on Izayoi and her blade, "I doubt my head would stay on its shoulders for very long if I did."

So long as no one else opposed, it now seemed as though Galahad would be assuming the role of the party's leader. He wasn't as delusional to think that he was assuming control of a military unit, no they were a collection of free men and women. He was a deciding vote more than a platoon leader. Still, there was now weight to his decisions- for better or for worse. Galahad placed a hand on Arton's shoulder, squeezing it affirmingly and sighed tiredly.

"I hope I haven't upset you, I'll be relying on you a lot in these coming days."

[Click This]

---

Éliane didn’t usually deal well with threats. Oh, she was absolutely adept at being on the giving end of threats of violence, but the redhead had a very unfortunate tendency to exceptionally escalate in response to being threatened. So, when a pretentious, tarted up fool of a voice from across the courtyard had the gall to scream at her drop her own weapon, she was about to take her would-be victim up on her own offer and blow her away.

She didn’t like being disarmed.

It was only the intervention of the Dragoon and the Edrenian king himself that the tense standoff eased off as quickly as it had begun. Éliane frowned at the mystel’s words, giving her a searching gaze before slowly lowering her own weapon after the samurai had done so as well. “Is that so,” she replied mildly, finding a nearby Valheimian corpse to wipe off her blade before finally sheathing it. She considered the woman’s words. Normally, Éliane would have dismissed such a thing, but she liked and respected the gall this woman had to give her a recruitment pitch right after Éliane literally had her by the balls. Skael had truly been isolated from the Edrenian-Osprey conflict, but even on the basis of the stories that she had heard of this woman, then she at the very least deserved the respect of a peer in combat, even if the current circumstances were less than ideal.

“Alright, I’ll consider it. Give me just a minute,” she replied, seriously, as she walked towards the Skaelan team to hear their side of story. She arrived just in time to see the blooded leader of team Unicorn bleating at the man that had threatened her and her countrymen just moments earlier. Still inclined to take the side of her countryman by default, she paused when she saw who she was dealing with and what he had said.

Alright, she had a pretty poor first impression of the other man, but as far as threats and declarations of outrage went, ‘Do you know who I am’ was a pretty limp-wristed one, especially when she could recognize whose family the Skaelan leader belonged to. They weren’t nobodies, but in the grand scheme of Skaelan politics…

She made up her mind on the situation. She approached the man, made sure he recognized her, and looked him in the eye.

“Your father will hear of this.”

Then she made an about face and returned to the former general from Osprey. “I was strongly considering joining my compatriots, but it is obvious to me now they’re led by a fool, and I have no reason to doubt your words,” she admitted. “My original team fell to the ambush, so I accept. My apologies for earlier. It wasn’t personal.”

She held a hand out. “Éliane Laruelle, of the Household Guards. A rough start, I think, but it’ll be a pleasure to work alongside veterans,” she continued, meeting her eyes before her gaze briefly drifted towards Galahad. Walking to the rest of the team with her, she made the same introduction to the other members before apologizing to the man's victim. "Let me apologize for my countrymen," she said to Neve. "Not all of us were dropped at birth."

She decided to give her two thoughts on their deliberation. “If I may, as an outsider,” she interrupted, “Considering the illustrious folks that make up this team, I don’t see how adhering to a rigid structure of command in this group will work out beyond the short term. The cracks are already forming by just having this conversation. You have a former general, a duke, and a white mage, among those I recognize, and myself, a knight commander. The Divine Mother above knows how badly the clash of wills will be if you don’t choose something less than formal.” Éliane frowned.

“With how informal the arrangements are, decisions should be elective, rather than resting on a sole point of failure. I’d certainly feel better following a collectively bad decision rather than one decided by the whims of a foreign leader. No offense intended, Lord Caradoc.”

[Psyker Landshark]

Ranbu no Izayoi

Izayoi scoffed at the single voice of resistance to her proposal, noting with displeasure that it was the red ponce again. What exactly was this man's issue? At this point, he had to have some sort of idiotic agenda. Still, it seemed that the party was mostly composed of level heads. The viera male assented, and the uniformed Skaelian she'd just recruited did as well, though not without a wrinkle of her own. Elective...leadership? For someone who'd been following orders of some sort or another since the age of eight, the concept was foreign to her. To say nothing of the fact that this Laruelle woman clearly didn't understand Izayoi if she believed that the dragoon's orders would chafe against her.

Still, so long as it put a competent voice in charge of final decisions and left leadership out of her own hands, Izayoi was hardly going to protest against mostly getting what she wanted.

"Do as you will, then. I have no complaints about your...informal arrangement. Give the dragoon final assent and veto. The man is old enough to have fought in the war, and bears commander's markings as well. Obviously, he was more than competent enough five years ago. His order proved to be more than effective back then. Though if this is how it will be, the remainder of this group ought to say their piece regarding leadership before we turn in for the night." She glanced around for a moment, pausing. "Where is that mage?" She sighed, before a poof of smoke from beyond the door provided the answer.

Izayoi strode out into the hallway, staring down what was unbeknowst to her, a toad until a few seconds ago. She lifted an eyebrow in Aelphis's direction, looking moderately irritated.

"The remainder of the group is discussing matters of leadership, if you were listening in. As you are a member, you have the right to say your piece and get this over with already. If you would kindly go in and say something already, I'd like to manage to get even a few hours of sleep tonight before we take to the road." She said flatly, her demeanour suggesting that she was about to bodily drag the boy into the hall if he didn't get a move on.

@Cu Chulainn

[Ithradine]

&

---

Arton felt a weight off his shoulders hearing the king speak and the high-strung tension slowly relaxed. His majesty’s words only strengthened Arton’s opinion on Galahad as a person to put his faith in. Between him and Ranbu, there was much he gained to learn from them. The viera, in particular, had shown him that in order to protect the others he would need to get not only stronger but faster. He lowered his eyes and took a slow, deep breath letting the events of the night settle in his mind. This quest had already shredded what preconceptions he had and they had barely taken the first step

“Of course, I’m looking forward to seeing you work.”

The peace lasted only for a moment as he heard Ranbu inviting the Skaelian woman to the group, turning his head to them. Her appearance and fighting style was too refined not to be a student at the Academy. He supposed that any of the Skaelians here would be seeing that the Academy produced the best of the best of Skael. As Ranbu approached them, Arton tried to find a place to avert his gaze after realizing he had been staring a little. Neve had been the one addressed so he held his tongue for her to reply first.

At the very least, these otherwise hot-headed individuals were quick to apologize to her. Neve’s smile returned to her lips as she gave Izayoi a nod of understanding, then did the same to Eliane. They appeared to be approachable, after all. Before she could give them a reply, however, Izayoi wandered off and began to speak about a chain of command. That was something that Neve knew that she shouldn’t be part of.

”No worries, friend. With so many people here, misunderstandings are bound to happen.” she told the red-haired woman in turn. Then, she glanced back up at Arton, silently suggesting that they be on their way.

Arton nodded and had begun to walk away from the group alongside Neve when Zeidgram dropped his name for leadership. The notion was not one he had harbored in his mind for a moment. Whoever was in charge wouldn’t change how he would act nor affect his goals, though he supported Ranbu’s nomination. The Skaelian warrior had practically frozen in place with a bit of color washing from his tanned skin. What had he done that warranted the red mage’s confidence?

Arton turned to face the group with uncertainty in his eyes. The words of Galahad and Leifur stung slightly but he was in agreement. He worked fine and well as a lone mercenary solving issues of petty bandits and invasive monsters, but he had never once led others on something as dangerous as this quest. He shook his head to dissuade Galahad’s worry “I admit that there is much I have to learn. I will do my best to be of help, but Neve and I must get going if we are going to help the injured.” With that, he turned to Zeidgram “I may not be ready for such a mantle, but I will earn it. You can be sure of it.” He spoke almost like a promise. Arton took another deep breath as he regrouped with Neve, gesturing with a nod that he was ready and eager to get moving.

The two made their way into a large chamber inside the castle that had been converted into a makeshift field hospital for the injured. Arton followed Neve’s lead as they treated the most severe injuries first. His job was mainly to stabilize and prepare the next patient while Neve used her white magic to quickly heal the wounds. While she focused on the patient, Arton did his best to raise the spirits of those next in line. He exchanged warm words and laughter with many of them, taking their mind off their pain. Despite Ranbu’s advice, one could say the two of them may have overdid it. Arton walked closely behind Neve as they returned to their quarters, wary she might faint or lose her balance. Arton stripped the bare minimum of armor to be comfortable and practically collapsed on his bed.

[Cu Chulainn]

Balmung Castle - Courtyard
The True King

---

_{Specific Mentions:}

Aelphis croaked in relief as he heard everyone calming down. Focusing once more, he would turn himself back into a Faye and take a seat against the wall he was hiding behind, peeking over to see what's going on. Everyone seems to be safe, including the Lord they were serving. That's good... their paycheck is safe! With a sigh of relief, Aelphis would move to stand up and prepare to head back to bed. That is, until a familiar Mystrel would show herself once more.

"L-leadership? Right, right..." Aelphis paused to ponder what she meant. To be a leader of the team would be a hefty responsibility, and if the wrong person was chosen to be leader, then this expedition would be doomed to fail. It wasn't something Aelphis wasn't confident in everyone else deciding on, especially given there were much more experienced people than him in their team. In the end, he just shrugged and stood up, resolving to head to bed as well, although he'd wait a bit as he didn't want to walk by himself with the Limbtaker of all people.

However, as he waited for her to walk off, the gears in his tiny head began to turn once more. Whoever the leader is, they're likely to get the lion's share of the reward! It's either that, or they'll be the ones to distribute the gil they earned among the team. If that's the case, there might be a strong chance Aelphis will be cheated out of his share, whether it be due to his status as a magician or his lack of physical ability. Either way, it's unacceptable!

The Faye would march towards the courtyard with a newfound sense of determination, his chest dramatically puffed as he would begin to address everyone in the room. With a flourish, Aelphis would make his grand entrance.

"Hm, hm, so I see you all began to discuss the terms of Team Kirin's leadership without me..." Aelphis began, stomping resolutely towards his allies. "I'll have you all know that only the strongest among us should lead us to victory! And who else would truly possess such strength than a master of the dark arts such as I? To even have the gall to assume anyone else is more fit than I is prepostero- oh?"

Before he could finish his declaration, Aelphis would find his footing unstable before realizing he was standing over a sleek puddle of blood. He tried to balance himself, but it was all for naught as both his feet flew into the air. With a thud, Aelphis would crash onto the ground, falling hard on his ass as his staff went flying. The Faye could only barely process what had just happened before his staff had landed heavy-side first, hitting the Black Mage square on the top of his head with a rather audible bonk!

"Wha-... ahh... w-waaaaah..."

Between the pain, embarrassment, and the blood that ruined his robes, Aelphis eyes began to well up with tears. Slowly and softly, the Faye began to cry, sobbing quietly at the series of unfortunate events. This really was the worst first night he could've had.

[Marlowe]

MENTIONS: Everyone

Dawnlight brought with it a hectic flurry of activity. Groggy-eyed, and frankly still exhausted from the previous night’s excursion, Neve followed Team Kirin as they were guided to the castle’s stables with hardly a word escaping her lips. She was no stranger to waking up early– in fact, the Grovemasters often made her rise from bed before the first rays. What she wasn’t accustomed to was spending all of her energy healing the wounded so late at night, then having to rise early the next day with hardly any time to recuperate. All of her spells had always been cast at a leisurely pace with ample time to rest in between cures, but the number of wounded last night meant that there was little time to take a breath of respite. When everything was done and over with, she could hardly stand straight. Thank Etro that Arton was kind enough to lend her his arm on the way back to their room. If he hadn’t, she was certain that she would have collapsed and slept on the stairwell all through the night. Neve would have to thank him later.

The castle guard gifted them a flock of chocobo to use during their travels. It was surprising to see their unique hue. She was very much used to the canary yellow ones one found in Drana Asneau, but these looked different. Their color was much more muted and bordered on a silvery-gray. All of them had striking blue eyes that were bright and lively and they chirruped excitedly as the stablehands fitted them with leather saddles and reins. ”Their color will distinguish your team from ordinary rabble that pass through towns,” one of the guards had told them, ”Silver chocobos are exclusive to Leonhart’s warriors.”

They had also been granted a wagon that was pulled by stockier, standard chocobos. It was driven by a cheery moogle whose name was Goug– at least, that was what Neve had heard while she stroked the feathers of the chocobo that had been granted. The castle’s guards made introductions fairly brief, anyways, and before long they were sent on their way through the city. The sound of church bells rung through the cobblestone-paved streets as Balmung’s denizens rushed out from their homes to bid them farewell. Their beaming faces, so full of hope and vigor, was enough to allow a tired smile to crawl its way over her lips.

They would… no, they had to come back victorious for the good of people like those.

Team Kirin left Balmung and turned northwards, their path pointed towards Osprey. Neve wasn’t sure how long it would take them to reach the northern nation, though she was excited to experience its warm weather. Their troupe marched far, far down the path, and the paved promenade soon morphed into dirt roads. The sun was at its halfway point in the sky when the dirt roads disappeared and they were left without any waymarks at all. Ahead of them laid what appeared to be an endless sea of lush and very long emerald grass that glistened under the midday sun. Wind rippled over it and made it seem like it was alive.. Her eyes scoped the fields and the distant, snow-capped mountains that stood stark against the sea of blue above.

”I don’t think I’ve ever even dreamt of such a place,” she murmured. ”It’s so beautiful.”

”These are the Stormseas, kupo! Across from them are the mountains of Midgar.” Goug shouted from the back of their group. ”Yes, they’re pretty, but many a traveler get lost here because of the tall grass– or worse. Best keep your wits about you and stick close together!”

[Psyker Landshark]

Ranbu no Izayoi

&

A vivid nightmare had plagued Arton's sleep, causing him to toss and turn throughout the night. Despite this, he had woken up around dawn as he always did. After a short wash, Arton packed his things and donned his armor. His pack was a little on the heavy side but it did contain all of his possesions. It wasn't like there was a home he could return to. Arton made sure to check on Neve as the group departed the castle and prayed she could find some rest on the trip.

Arton managed to mount his chocobo with a bit of effort. It had been sometime since he had a chance to ride one. The wanderer flashed his signature smile towards the crowds and waved goodbye as they left the city. Having travelled a good distance, Arton's thoughts began to dwell on the comrades that accompanied him. He felt like he had a good read on those who remained, all except one: Ranbu. That was what had him staring as he rode behind her. She was without a doubt bloodthirsty, but there was more to it than that. He intended to find out.

He gave the regins of his chocobo a little flick and moved up besides her "Ranbu, I apologize if this is a ignorant question but why do you hate Valheim so much?" Arton felt that if he were to trust the Mystrel he had to know.

Izayoi hadn't been beset by cheering crowds since the emperor had raised her in his esteem, at the very beginning of the war. There simply hadn't been time after. Like many other things, time and weariness soured this experience for her. Would they be cheering as greatly if they'd known who she was? The woman responsible for many of the deaths of their sons, their husbands, their brothers?

Not that they would find out. Her straw hat obscured the top half of her face and her hair to the onlookers, and crimson robes didn't quite carry the same visual notoriety that her black war plate had. Still, she kept silent through the entirety of the procession out of the city and towards the Stormseas. The return to Osprey would be much quicker than her arrival to Edren, considering she would be crossing the fields of grass mounted rather than on foot this time. Izayoi consigned herself to simply listening to the rest of the party to pass the time until Arton decided to approach her.

"Ranbu?" Izayoi echoed, one eyebrow lifted. Of all the...of course. Foreign ignorance, to say nothing of the other matter. First things first. "My given name is Izayoi. Ranbu is a title, gifted to me in the old tongue of Osprey. I will not begrudge your lack of knowledge this one time, as you are an outlander."

She took a breath, trying to decide on how much to reveal of her grudge with Valheim. The logical part of her mind knew that full disclosure would be for the best, but she had little desire to show her pain to strangers.

"As for Valheim...you would be a fool to ask this within Osprey's borders. The Edrenians at least left once they had stolen what they desired." A pointed look in Galahad's direction. "Valheim subjugates us. Renders us second-class citizens within our own lands. The occupiers are neither merciful nor benevolent. You will see once we arrive."

A deep, shuddering breath. Just beginning to list off Valheim's offenses ignited more rage within herself than she'd thought. Enough to throw caution to the wind. They would find out eventually, regardless.

"Their soldiers slew my husband and my daughter. Razed my village. Massacred everyone who lived within. Is that reason enough for you?" Izayoi spat at Arton, her grip tightening on her chocobo's reins. "Vengeance for them is the only concern I have. So long as Valheim and the Blight are linked, you have my sword. But do not get in the way of my sole reason left to draw breath."

Arton could feel a flush in his cheeks at his embarrassing mistake. The whole time he had gotten her name wrong. Izayoi's expression gave him pause to consider retracting his question, but he stayed committed. The look on his face grew solemn as she explained her reasoning, but it did not prepare him for the rest of it.

The blue eyes of the Sollan darkened for the first time since meeting team Kirin. Was this who he could have become? A demon hell-bent on revenge? His heart ached for the loss Izayoi and her people had suffered. Their loves ones and their very freedom. Arton at the very least had the second part. Would she beleive him? That he knew a fraction of her pain? He quickly glanced around at the others. Perhaps it was only right to share his own experience.

"Thank you..for sharing. I doubt whatever condolences I could offer would mean much, but I wish..I wish I could have met them I suppose." His thumbs rubbed the learher straps for a moment "Bandits murdered my parents before my eyes, and kidnapped my closest friend. We had been traveling in a wagon much like the one we have. A few guards for protection...but it did not matter." Arton spoke so only her ears could hear, consicous of the Viera in their party "A kind stranger took me in. He taught me how to smith and fend for myself." He finished now looking ahead.

Some of the fire in Izayoi's eyes dimmed as Arton seemed to accept her reasoning, replaced with the same weariness that had accompanied her since that day atop the mountain. She'd been hoping he would just accept her words and move on, but then he started up with his own experiences.

In the interest of group cohesion, Izayoi resisted the urge to sigh. She hadn't intended on this becoming a sharing of trauma, despite the fact that his story was so close to her own youth. But it would be more than rude to rebuff him if he was so willing to reciprocate.

"The same happened to myself as a child. Though my master was not what I would describe as kind." She replied in an equally quiet tone to Arton's. "But I will be forever grateful to him for teaching him what I needed to survive." Izayoi finished before urging her chocobo a few paces ahead, clearly uninterested in speaking more on the subject.

"Your condolences are...appreciated." She said in a more normal volume so that the rest of the party wouldn't grow too curious. "I would hope that it does not become a habit from yourself or otherwise. It will grow tiresome quickly." Mother above, if the rest of them decided now was a good time to express sorrow or pity, she may as well gallop ahead.