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Revue of Annihilation

Meisa Amorette

Meisa Amorette

Elf | 256 | ♀ | 157cm (5’ 2”) | 48kg (105lbs)
0th Circle | Civilization

A remnant of the lost, civilized era before the fall of the Thousand Faced God. An arrogant princess, tempered by time and the loss of an entire civilization, and one of the few to survive that historic calamity to live in the current day.

In those painful months following the death of God and the monstrous scourge that followed, the elven kingdom was one of the many that fell to anarchy and being overrun by creatures. Whisked away by her guards, Meisa was one of the few that retreated to the mountains where although besieged, an enclave of survivors formed to create a new society. Hidden away from the greater world, these survivors slowly grew to form the last city of a once great civilization. It was, and would always be, however, an existence in limbo.

Although the kings and queens were long gone, as the last royal, Meisa had a comfortable existence in exile. But to her, it was an unbearable one. Impotent. As the years passed, it was obvious to her that merely existing was not a way to live. A poor remnant, a shade of the past, a stagnant unaging population that could never move on—what was left was not a civilization, but a walking corpse, and a pitiable continuance. There was no motivation, no greater goal, and no progress to be made among those that were left.

The connections that could be made from outside were no less reassuring.

Once upon a time, she might have been an arrogant, vain young girl. In many respects, she still was. But the memories of proper civilization, and the horrors brought upon the land upon its fall that slowly seared themself to her very soul.

It could be recreated. She could do it herself and bring back what once was. She just had to shake off the coat of her own complacency. Among familiar lands was not the place to be, but instead she was drawn towards a distant city. Oratorio was far grander than what she knew now, but still a shade of what she remembered. Especially the slums.

But it was still a place to start.

Path to Ascension

0th Circle Ichor-Blessed

Ichor: 0
Wealth: 0
Followers: 0
Resources: None.
Artifacts: None
Property: None.

Divine Protection of Civilization
Harmony – Followers have a far easier time working together with others. The effect is increased when working with likeminded followers.

Starting Benefit
Treasured Companion - 1 Paladin. You've granted your grace upon someone whom you trust deeply.

Paladins:

The purple and smug you expect

Firenze

Elf | 251 | Female | 167 cm (5”6”) | 59 kg (130 lbs)
Tier 1 Paladin | Royal Bodyguard

The slight unhinged, lifetime bodyguard of her charge, Meisa. A loyal servant, if you can get past the mutual abusive master-servant relationship. Was of dubious loyalty in the past, but the death of a god and the loss of everything you held dear except for your arguably crappy mistress changes perspectives a bit, especially when said boss has the chutzpah to try and fill the vacant position.

For Meisa, at least, she really was the only natural choice to receive the spark.

Skills
Touched Mind – Firenze is particularly inventive. In logistics. In battle. In the dungeon.

Grades
STR - I | END - I | DEX - I | AGI - I | MAG - I | LCK - I

Revue of Annihilation

@ERode Yup.

Got it, edited. Workplace productivity is more on-theme for Civilization, so I'll stick with that aspect.

Revue of Annihilation

@ShovelToss it into the Character tab and go fill out the spread sheet.

@Click ThisFor the Paladin, unless you mean 'dungeons' as in literal prisons and hijinks, just remove that reference. She ain't tested in the Abyss yet.

For her Divine Protection, remove "discerning the intentions of". It's enough just to have them be more efficient working with other Followers. Mind-reading's something else. Other than that, she's good to go.

@ERode

Nah, I don't mean the Abyss.

On the Divine Protection stuff, it's more like being good at reading people, not mind reading. Or is that still too much?

Revue of Annihilation

Neither purple nor smug(mostly)

Meisa Amorette

Elf | 256 | ♀ | 157cm (5’ 2”) | 48kg (105lbs)
0th Circle | Civilization

A remnant of the lost, civilized era before the fall of the Thousand Faced God. An arrogant princess, tempered by time and the loss of an entire civilization, and one of the few to survive that historic calamity to live in the current day.

In those painful months following the death of God and the monstrous scourge that followed, the elven kingdom was one of the many that fell to anarchy and being overrun by creatures. Whisked away by her guards, Meisa was one of the few that retreated to the mountains where although besieged, an enclave of survivors formed to create a new society. Hidden away from the greater world, these survivors slowly grew to form the last city of a once great civilization. It was, and would always be, however, an existence in limbo.

Although the kings and queens were long gone, as the last royal, Meisa had a comfortable existence in exile. But to her, it was an unbearable one. Impotent. As the years passed, it was obvious to her that merely existing was not a way to live. A poor remnant, a shade of the past, a stagnant unaging population that could never move on—what was left was not a civilization, but a walking corpse, and a pitiable continuance. There was no motivation, no greater goal, and no progress to be made among those that were left.

The connections that could be made from outside were no less reassuring.

Once upon a time, she might have been an arrogant, vain young girl. In many respects, she still was. But the memories of proper civilization, and the horrors brought upon the land upon its fall that slowly seared themself to her very soul.

It could be recreated. She could do it herself and bring back what once was. She just had to shake off the coat of her own complacency. Among familiar lands was not the place to be, but instead she was drawn towards a distant city. Oratorio was far grander than what she knew now, but still a shade of what she remembered. Especially the slums.

But it was still a place to start.

Path to Ascension

0th Circle Ichor-Blessed

Ichor: 0
Wealth: 0
Followers: 0
Resources: None.
Artifacts: None
Property: None.

Divine Protection of Civilization
Harmony – Followers have a far easier time working together with others. The effect is increased when working with likeminded followers.

Starting Benefit
Treasured Companion - 1 Paladin. You've granted your grace upon someone whom you trust deeply.

Paladins:

The purple and smug you expected

Firenze

Elf | 251 | Female | 167 cm (5”6”) | 59 kg (130 lbs)
Tier 1 Paladin | Royal Bodyguard

The slight unhinged, lifetime bodyguard of her charge, Meisa. A loyal servant, if you can get past the mutual abusive master-servant relationship. Was of dubious loyalty in the past, but the death of a god and the loss of everything you held dear except for your arguably crappy mistress changes perspectives a bit, especially when said boss has the chutzpah to try and fill the vacant position.

For Meisa, at least, she really was the only natural choice to receive the spark.

Skills
Touched Mind – Firenze is particularly inventive. In logistics. In battle. In the dungeon.

Grades
STR - I | END - I | DEX - I | AGI - I | MAG - I | LCK - I

Revue of Annihilation [Faction-Ruling Demigods Vie for Ascension]

Domain of Simps.

@ERode

Domain of Wealth with extra steps.

Revue of Annihilation [Faction-Ruling Demigods Vie for Ascension]

Hello, hello.

I am, predictably, here for the Domain of Wealth. Then again, there are other potentials. Domain of Servants. Domain of Ichor-- well, the other kind.

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

---

The conversation with Arton the previous evening had been interesting.

Despite the fact, as they moved onwards into hostile territory, Éliane put the details to the back of her mind. Each step they took now was unfamiliar land to her. Despite her experience, she had never been this far away from Skael, and the fact that Osprey was swarming with Valheimian occupiers meant that she had to be on her guard. After somewhat extended detour through the mountains to avoid the black-clad enemy soldiers, Éliane arrived with the others at the outskirts of what Izayoi said had been her former home.

Éliane had little experience with war. She dealt with her fare share of violence, and even won a full battle in the capital, but that had simply been a skirmish compared to the dual invasions that had happened in Izayoi’s home country. The sight of the ruined village and its houses was a sobering sight. The Skaelan woman remained silent as they approached, but she remained cautious, keeping a hand on the sword that rested at her hip.

It was a precaution that paid off, as Izayoi wasn’t the only one to quickly notice the Valheimian presence. The swordsman charging off solo in response was unexpected… but it wasn’t like Éliane wouldn’t have done something similar in normal circumstances. She approved! Grinning at the anticipation of imminent action and the satisfaction of seeing what had happened to this place further avenged, she took her hand off her sword and drew her gunblade. Éliane joined in Izayoi in charging the enemy. Taking aim, she shot at the nearest soldier, keeping close to the swordswoman as she kept pace with her. Although Éliane was all for charging into the fray, she preferred at least a little bit of pre-planning, but this was fine—she just hoped that the others got the memo to watch their backs as the two of them led the vanguard in this ambush.

“To us. Before they regroup!” she yelled, before firing again at a soldier that was getting close to Izayoi. Covering the last few meters, Éliane finally entered melee combat as she parried the first swordsman that approached her with a loud clang as their blades met.

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

---

In the end, nobody passed her the gravy, so when they made to leave, Éliane went ahead and took it for herself. It was in a polished, attractively decorated silver pitcher. She took a spoon, also silver, for good measure, because she wasn’t an uncivilized brute that consumed gravy straight from the pitcher. Being in tune with these sorts of things, she knew that the silverware costed a pretty penny, especially with the custom monograms and house heraldry, but she considered it the Asshole Tax.

This was why she preferred dealing with her own countrymen. Far more civilized, even among the commoners.

By the time they made it to the aforementioned lodge, the pitcher of gravy was finished and after cleaning it, set it amongst the trophies that adorned the interior of the building. When she went to her things, though, she found her belongings slightly disturbed. Frowning, she carefully inspected them, and found an unexpected note in her satchel. After reading it with a frown, she discretely approached the fireplace and disposed of it amongst the flames.

It was vaguely amusing that SEED wanted her back, even if temporarily after they’d been so angry with her about the way she conducted her missions… loud. Granted, there wasn’t much discretion needed for what they were asking for, and they were stating the obvious that all of her companions here would be of interest to Skael… but the command to investigate Arton was somewhat surprising.

There was also no mention of the members of her delegation that had fallen in combat. How cold of them.

Éliane sighed. Things in life were far easier when you could bash them in with a sword or shoot them with said sword.

Unexpectedly, the Skaelan man that had interested SEED so had actually approached her the next morning. A little bit suspicious, perhaps, but he also made her coffee, which made up for all of the world’s ills, so she gladly accepted it and returned the greeting. “Good morning. That’s the stuff, thank you…” Taking the cup, she consumed nearly a third of the cup before sighing with satisfaction. “Gods, the coffee here is fantastic.” After taking a few more sips, smaller this time, she glanced over at her countryman. Well, she supposed this an opportunity if anything.

“Yesterday was a mess, and I wasn’t drunk enough to deal with it,” she admitted. “This is why I don’t like leaving our country. Far more civilized…” She paused, and glanced back at Arton. “I was a bit surprised to meet a fellow countryman here, aside from my late companions…”

The Maids Guide to Demon Hunting

Polina Laye

Farisian Maid

---

With Livia’s assistance, the battle was over. It reminded Polina of the vast gulf in power between them, which frustrated her, but what could she do? Thankfully, as much as she disliked the church, she did appreciate some of the charity they did. In this instance, it was healing—and within moments, she could feel the cracked ribs and broken bone inside of her mend and quickly fall back into place where it properly belonged. She would probably need to cook up and eat a lot of red meat later to make up for the blood loss, but that was only a minor worry.

“Much appreciated,” she nodded, acknowledging Cassandre’s help.

Standing tall again, she brushed herself off, frowning at the state of her formerly nice dress. Torn as it was, it would take a miracle to salvage it, but that was something to worry about later. There was still a second battle to be fought, and without further hesitation, she shot off to where the rest of her team were –although not before briefly testing her range of motion.

The Farisian maid arrived onto a scene of chaos as her fellow maids battled the demonically possessed wife. She didn’t immediately join the battle, quickly observing the fighting to get the demon’s measure. She eyed it warily as it seemed to decay what touched her, and she decided to remain at range for now, sticking with her original plan even if she was healed.

Seeing that it was evidently powering up for some nasty attack as someone shouted, she finally engaged as she summoned up a quartet of knives from under her dress. With a snap, they shot off towards the woman, intending to ‘get rough with her’ from the start.

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

---

The dinner, it seemed, was becoming increasingly hostile and inhospitable. Éliane thought it was an incredible shame, considering that Galahad was a swell enough nobleman, and his mother was rather friendly, as well. More importantly, these people knew how to cook, and they had great coffee! Certainly, it was better stuff than had been available at the capital.

The seasoning on the roast was absolutely chef’s kiss. The gravy, rich, creamy, and top notch, together with the potatoes. The vegetables that accompanied the dishes were also perfectly roasted, and the family certainly knew their wine, too. Of course, Éliane preferred her beloved coffee, but she wasn’t a rube that didn’t know vintages and could still appreciate a good accompaniment.

Her attention continued to turn inward on the meal as the Caradoc patriarch began to start a row after the party had answered his question. She’d answered him in truth and had received sneers in return, but Éliane clamped down on her displeasure. She had no skin in this particular game of familial conflict, nope! Reaching for some fresh bread to soak up some of the gravy and juices that were on her plate, she froze as the elder Caradoc dropped a bomb that made even her pause.

Well, that would likely explain a lot of the hostility, if true. Still, why was Skael getting a big portion of the splashback here? Why the extra hostility, lord cranky host? She and the rest of her countrymen hadn’t participated in that silly war!

Éliane drew her hand back with her bread as Izayoi made her case. It was a very well-reasoned explanation that she nodded along to as she enjoyed the piece of sourdough that she broke off, but she frowned at the quickly dwindling gravy on her plate.

She was quite sure that Lord Caradoc was breaking quite a number of the rules of guests and hospitality by threatening to hang his guests, an existing blood debt or not. She was also quite confident that the king would be rather cross, too. What was a little diplomatic incident over killing some envoys?

And certainly, she wasn’t done enjoying the good food at the table. They’d already left a terrible impression… What was something a little worse? If relations were irreparable at this point, she might as well enjoy as much as she could and hoped the servants didn’t get the current bad vibes and served dessert before they were truly kicked out…

But first. She gestured towards the silver gravy pitcher that was by Lord Caradoc.

“Pardon me. Can you pass the gravy?”