Bourgeoisie

Fate/esoteric facsimile

@Pie Flavor
I'm fine with whatever, but I feel that an ex-Exorcist being paired with an Assassin has been done already...

Fate/esoteric facsimile

To be honest, I kinda wanted to try Rider.

The Hallows Inn [CLOSED]

@shagranoz
Frederick stared at the lich, no Rebecca she had called herself, with wide eyes. His mouth dropped in shock, and his tenuous hold on his magic snapped, shutting off the map projection. With trembling fingers, the half-elf placed the butterfly sigil back over his head. The world around him span slightly as he tried to comprehend Rebecca's words.

"By the Seven and their signs," Frederick breathed, staring sightlessly at the wall, fingering the the three charms on his neck, "another dimension..."

He understood the theory behind multiple realities, after all, he was a devotee of Caess, Maiden of the Journey, Cartographer of Unknown Roads. Most of the texts he had read on the subject had been restricted in the Order's library, among other works deemed borderline heretical, or the Gods had decreed wrong. Whatever the theory, Frederick could feel the converging roads under his feet, a feeling he had dismissed when he had been delirious with blood loss.

Looking for the bartender, the half-elf motioned that he wanted an order. The last time Frederick had partaken in drink was during the party he and the other acolytes had before their graduation ceremonies, nearly a month in the past.

"The strongest drink you have sir." Frederick ordered, pulling out a string of bronze coins.

The Pickers

Cú's ears flattened against his skull, displeasure radiating from his frame. He had escorted slaves during the Civil War, had put down fermenting rebellions and revolts with callous ease. Granted, he hadn't been in full control then, and he regretted his actions to this day.

"Weapons are fine, and so is armor, Captain. However, If'm going to contact the slavers, I'm going to need capsaicin, citrus juice, vinegar and isopropyl." Cú replied to his captain, "But there may be an issue with selling you. Teufelshunde, especially slavers, Are extremely xenophobic, no, that's not the word... I think the best way to explain is that the Teufelshunde quite like aliens. They like showing their dominance as a species. No self-respecting, non-clone Teufelshunde would ever fuck an alien willingly. Selling you is out of the question, they're monitored and are required to bring all purchases back to the Hierarchy, making on the side deals impossible."

Cú paused, before giving his whole body a violent shake. Standing to his full height, the hound looked down at the Villianian, cocking his head slightly to the left. The Teufelshunde would never willingly buy the captain, not if they couldn't exploit her for labor or some other reason. Thinking back to the slave holds, Cú tried to think of a task that would entice his brothers to buy a fem...

If Cú's fur hadn't covered his skin, his comrades would have seen his skin slowly turned white as bone. Standing ramrod straight, the Teufelshunde stared at his captain.

"Captain, you said your species are desirable for their...appearances and abilities correct? Cú asked softly, before continuing, "The slaves currently on Lupa are treated worse than animals. A large majority are criminals that the Hierarchy have "pledged" to keep and reform through labor. They perform backbreaking and/or monotonous work. They have very few ways to vent their frustrations and stress. Are you sure you want to go through with this?"

The Pickers

Changed my post a bit so it flows better.

The Hallows Inn [CLOSED]

@shagranoz
Frederick's confusion grew as h listened to the lich's words. Keeping the soul intact, and retaining it beyond death? Sheanos would never allow that to happen under the watchful gazes of her servants. Nor did the half-elf recognize the name of the drink the lich had ordered, despite it being mundane enough to order as a common drink. As well, her declaration to partake in drink conflicted with the Order's teachings, compiled over millenias. Liches could not partake in earthly foods, their demonic halves would reject the earthly products and cause pain and nausea to the lich.

"Kalasian? What madness do you speak undead, there is no place in the five continents named Kalas." Frederick said, looking at the Lich strangely, before pulling his butterfly necklace over his head and placing it on the bar. Muttering a prayer to the Goddess Caess, he pumped a small bit of his energy into the sigil. Four beams of light sprang from the butterfly's wingtips, and outlined an empty rectangle. Slowly, shapes began to form in the empty space, five distinct outlines glowed in the empty air, a map to the half-elf's home.

Blackfield Supernatural Consulting

Looks cool.

The Hallows Inn [CLOSED]

Frederick looked at the,,, "Lich" in front of him, before scowling at her. He could see bits of decay on her face, but she looked nothing like the Liches he had seen on the battlefield. They neither looked nor felt like the being in front of him. Furrowing his brow further, the young half-elf shuddered at the memory of the fallen wizards. There had been a group of five, summoning storms of ice and lightning, decimating the Order's forces before they had been put down. They had been skeletal figures, withered skin spread taut over their frames, and wispy strands of bone white hair wreathed their crowns. Their eyes varied, but were all cool, icy blue to deep plu, their teeth gnarled and sharp peeking through condescending seers. Their auras were maddening, gaping maws of chaotic energy, pools of eldritch power that screeched and wailed in discordant melody.

"You look like no Lich I have seen," the half-elf replied, "Liches are beings who willingly gave their names to Demons, trading their deaths and souls for the longevity and power of fiends. They erase their names from Sheanos' records, leaving the cycle of death and rebirth. They are powerful magic users, capable of conjuring storms of eldritch elements large enough to cover battlefields. When I said that you were missing something, I don't mean compassion. It is the flame, the warmth that differentiates life and death, the flame that joins Boelai's Braziers as he fashions new lives in his workshop."

The Hallows Inn [CLOSED]

Welp, time to drop the bombshell that I'm not in Kansas anymore.

Fate/esoteric facsimile

Dang, I wonder If I handicapped (no pun intended) Catherine too much...