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6 yrs ago
Current Why am I bothering to update the status anyway? No one's gonna care
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7 yrs ago
"Remember to look at the stars not down at your feet." Inspired me ever since. Rest in peace Professor Hawking
7 yrs ago
I don't know why, but the boredom is killing me slowly
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Alright, I hope to be posting in the next few days.
Steffen Gravinir


"Gladly." Steffen nodded before Serenity took off back into her fight. He was to move as well, seeing an opening to the barrier that was only guarded by the undeads that wasn't the Demonbreaker revived, but the witch at the other side of the corner decided otherwise. He were to be the sole target of her wrath. A piece of his heart sank as soon as her hair roses from the electricity conducting naturally through her body. There was a saying - he had forgotten the origins - that if a mage wants someone dead, unless you have something of your own, there is basically nothing one can do about but run. They are quintessential part of an army; death, destruction and chaos coming out of their body sweatless. He did not expect to be caught in the receiving end of that phrase, and for what? This axe?!

As for running...

"Alfrid is a great warrior. And a great warrior's weapon belongs on the battlefield, not a casket." Steffen's hand reaching up for the shield behind his back, his other hand gripping on the axe shifted to the rear end of the pole. There is no running. He couldn't bring himself to run from a battle. Not anymore. "But fine. Honor him your way!" With a side-swing, Steffen threw the two-handed axe away from him.

The weapon was clumsy and not meant to be thrown, and so it landed in the middle of the room.

"Now do what you must, if you feel like that would ease your grief."

Both his arms were open, but he was walking forward. And his eyes. It wasn't one who seemed willing to back off from this fight. And he wouldn't. If the witch were ever to fire her magic, Steffen would immediately snap off of his stance to toss the small shield in front of him, hoping that metallic object will absorb the lightning rather than him for a few seconds necessary for him to dash towards Erich, or rather remain in sight obstruction of him, using the undead to deter another lightning strike.

@VitaVitaAR
Steffen Gravinir


Steffen proceeded down the mausoleum, noticing the ceiling of the structure beginning to get lower and lower and also hearing the clash of metals beneath him. His worries grew gradually with every steps deeper into the structure. His concern for the kind of claustrophobic fight overtaken by the same feeling for his allies. Even just the Barukstaedian alone already proved quite a tough opponent requiring a strong response from three knights, who knows what they had down there, having only five individuals around to fend off. It could be that this was their strongest card and they intended to play it first, but he somehow doubted it. Maybe it was just his tendencies to over-worry things, but it's also wise to keep expectations low.

Not long after, the towering Ingvarr arrived at the heat of the action, the battle reaching its apex. And he wasn't the only gigantic figure in the fight. For a man well-read on the history and culture of the southern land he had come to call home, a glance over this opponent's armor already told him that his opponent was the legendary Erich Cazt, now defiled and forced to do the bidding of the necromancer that is hiding behind the barrier. What was left of the hero was still quite a force to be reckoned with, seeing how Gerard was trying his hardest to find an edge, along with the other knights making do with their chosen weapons. Steffen's first instinct would have been to go straight for him and alleviate the pressure Gerard and Fanilly was under. But instincts should not override reasons, at least not in this case, when there were more variables in this chamber:

There was the barrier that helped cower one of the perpetrators, and the hostage with them.

There was Erich.

There were multiple undeads in the room with him.

His allies mostly engaged, Serenity seemingly recovering from an attack he did not see earlier.

And the last and perhaps most confusing one: the red-skinned horned lady. Who even is this? Friend or foe?


Steffen decided not to take any particular actions yet, not when he was unsure of the situation at hands, and his fellow knights, as much as they had their difficulties, were not in immediate danger. But that could change any seconds now.

"The axe man is done." He looked upon Serenity, stern and having his newly acquired battle axe at the ready. "Quickly, what is the situation?"

@ERode
Irian Sinewell


Irian lifted his chin a little staring at the map silently as Velvetica explained her logic and reasoning behind her suspicion, and that it was neither bandits nor Ithillanes, but rather cultists, likely using necromancy and/or slave labours for their operations. All abhorrent behavior, all of them, but this was not at all surprising to Irian. He had heard somewhat of the cultists that Velvetica referred to, but it was more hearsay than anything, as he hadn't really have to deal with people like these in the past. Or it's equally possible that they indistinguishably belong to the same shallow graves of the bandits who dared to intrude Wood Elf territory. He never really knew proper, but reprehensible behavior like this wasn't actually too hard to understand, or at least conceive what could drive people to such a thing.

Irian glanced around the room as a sense of disgust towards the perpetrators and a resolve to bring down this group of individuals emerged, seeing some rather interesting but mostly unknown faces. A truly unique and diverse band of warriors, which made it rather more interesting to read the responses of. While most individuals simply reaffirm their readiness to fight, a common response typical of a soldier and eager recruits, the ones raising his eyebrows more was the Nem merchant, who seemed to be asking the princess to escort her, but also wanting to help the princess dealing with the necromancers. It's a rather awkward statement to make of for the elf who was just silently crossing his arms, keeping eyes on her as she spoke, but the sentimentalism felt a little bit sly to him.

Either way that the princess replied, Irian, still with his hands crossed in front, looked at Velvetica for the most part but also glancing around to those who were paying attention to the briefing if they had any inputs as well. "It's good we are in agreement. But how do we want to approach these suspected cultists?" He asked, the one question that he had all the hopes that she was ready to answer. "By stealth or by force?"

@VitaVitaAR
Steffen Gravinir


The wall of the mausoleum was marked with a crack of Steffen's making, splattered with a little bit of red that definitely wasn't there earlier. That was the cue for the Ingvarr to shift his control of his techniques completely over to holding back the rush of adrenaline that followed the grappling. His breathe rushed to fill the lull in combat, the Ingvarr breathing and coughing out the dust that was kicked up as a result. The particles and the horrible stench of rotten flesh absolutely would not be of health to him in any means. But as soon as the dust cleared, Steffen felt a little bit better to stand back up straight, his hand reached over to his horn to see if there was anything broken or fractured. Ingvarr horns are like bones, and, while incredibly resilient, are not indestructible, and are just as painful broken as any farmland dehorned creature felt. Thankfully, there seemed to be no sign of permanent damage despite feeling hurt when in contact.

With his hair readjusted from the scuffles, Steffen looked back at the axe man, a long, loud and painful grunt let out as he collapsed into his knees. Even with that he still had both feet on the ground. If it had been just Steffen alone with him, it would have been a much more painful and difficult fight. What a dangerous enemy.

The Ingvarr solemnly gazed on his opponent, his chest moving back and forth as it slowly calmed down finally, seeing his opponent weakly clutching his wounds. If his strength hadn't been enough, the wound looked deep enough that it was only a matter of time. He is defeated finally, but not without a congratulation.

"Alfrid." Steffen nodded to acknowledge the dying warrior's name and honor. "It's indeed a good fight brother. It's a shame we fight under this circumstance." He was going to step up to deliver the mercy killing blow to Alfrid, but it seemed like Vier beat him to it, so he retracted his step. "Steffen Gravinir. May the maidens find you soon."

With a gripped hand on his chest, Steffen looked at Alfrid in the eyes as Vier snuffed out the light in him, a phrase was uttered.

"Strismaour visd faedingu, strismaour is dadenum."

Once Alfrid was gone, his body laying on the cold hard floor of the mausoleum, Steffen stared into the distance for a few seconds. It's eerily quiet, the Ingvarr wondering how the battle below had transpired. Had his fellow knights rescued the hostage and defeated the scourge that parasitically disturbing the prestigious family here? Who had fallen and who was still fighting? He should come down to give them a hand. Their battle here with Alfrid had kept them distracted long enough.

Steffen stepped over close to his fallen opponent, kneeled down, ungripped his hand that was holding onto the enchanted axe. Once the axe was free from Alfrid's grasp, Steffen picked it up with both his hand lifted it up and down a little to get a feel of its actual weight. It was much heavier than the weapons commonly used around here, but at Ingvarr-strength, it wasn't actually hard to lift. He could make use of this weapon more than his battle hammer that he carried on with him at haste. It was also the first weapon every Ingvarr would train with, and Steffen's second or third weapon he was most familiar with behind the humble spear.

There was one thing he was a little concerned about: the axe's explosive power. Alfrid had no problem swinging it around on rocks and blasting stuff, but the man had the runic armor, which could counteract the weapon's kickback. Steffen could have taken the armor too, as he was close to his size more than anybody here, but that would take too long, so he would have to make do with no protection, if that runic energy would flow. In some ways, the Ingvarr hoped that it wouldn't. A mundane battle axe would do just fine, but he decided to swing it weakly against a nearby wall, away from Fleuri and Vier, to see if it actually did anything, and it did. The inscription carved onto the axe's blade gleamed, as arcane energy flowed through the axe, culminating at the very edge where it made contact, exploding on the stone wall. It was a smaller explosion than when Alfrid was using it, but it seemed like the enchantment worked regardless of who was using it. But a bit to his surprise, he was not affected much from that.

'Hmm, not bad.' He looked over the axe inscription one more time before turning to Fleuri and Vier, giving both of them a respectful nod in gratitude for their help, but also was fairly straightforward with what comes next.

"We should proceed down. The Knight-Captain needs our help." He said, looking at Vier, knowing he had been struck with the axe explosion earlier. "Are you able to continue, or feel unsafe to? No shame in going back if you are."

@Rune_Alchemist@Crimson Paladin@Creative Chaos
Irian Sinewell


Irian raised his eyebrows quite a bit seeing that she seemed to completely ignore the arrow shot, her head continued to submerge in text until he actually talked to her, which was quite impressive and more amusing than anything. Even more so when in the middle of this, she just took out a brush to streamline her hair before him. The elf contemporary from the woods leaned his head slightly, crossing his arms and waiting for Melanie to finish.

"Melanie." He nodded in return as she introduced herself. She's an archivist. No wonder. And that name sounds familiar "You're the one who beat up your fellow debater for a dress color, right?" Said Irian, his eyebrows raised, the straightforward inquiry turned to a small smirk. "I know, because...let's just say acquaintance of mine was there."

Wood Elf academics weren't exactly known for studying in foreign lands, but visitors to his elf settlement were still a good source of information. Part of the reason why the elves were quite the gracious hosts. This guy was kind of an ass though, so if anything, it was more of a funny story for campfires and idle chatters. No one really cares about Reon's clothes anyway. Respect though, elves to elves, for standing by her work to that degree. "Well, glad to meet such an interesting person like you as well." He replied with a firm smile, his hand on his chest as he bowed slightly. A practised response, but with some degree of genuine sincerity and hospitality.

"I'm Irian Sinewell." Irian said. "Forest Watcher...well not anymore as long as I am here with our band of brothers and sisters." He looked back at the camps to quite a variety of individuals with all walks of life. "Yeah, I don't exactly blame anyone for the rumours. But I get the princess. It's not the time to be picky with your warriors."

The most obvious case was Melanie herself. He would keep his actual judgment of her combat capability for when he actually see action, but a person with a history of academics and archivists in a position of border patrols and order enforcement would mean the situation had to be pretty serious.

Irian noticed Velvetica emerging from her tent. That was indications of a debrief.

"Well, duty calls." Irian said, giving Melanie a two-fingered wave. "If there's any rumors to be dispelled about me, or you want to be introduced to the team, or a chat, you are free to come around." With that, he yanked the arrow from the tent's peg, put them in his quiver and headed over to Velvetica and the other scouts.

He arrived just in time as Roger gave his report. Pretty much exactly what he saw. "I confirm." He followed up on Roger. "Disturbed earth, effigies along the way. The effigies are further away from us though, with what seems like human skulls. I don't know if they are recently deceased or from disturbed graves." He put a finger on his chin as he gave what his theory was. "Could be a deterrent measure. If that's the case, a camp might be nearby."

@Crimson Paladin@PigeonOfAstora@VitaVitaAR
There we go, dry humor David, let's go.
David Liang


David tried to ignore Damon's remark, which he regarded as pretty much useless given the situation. Yes, he knew that they were the missing one, you dope! He wanted to know who was with him and who did not get taken over and had a makeover. He could chalk it up to confusion and fear, as this was just as overwhelming or even more so for the rest as it was for David. In fact, he was a little surprised at how calm he was even with the new form and new world he found himself at. Maybe adaptability was his forte.

To his assessment, it seemed like only his friends (most of them) were present here. His father wasn't here, his friends earlier weren't here either, neither were the adults of the town. It was just the teenagers he knew and called his friends. Well, maybe except for Odaya, but surprisingly, her laugh and appearance-pointing wasn't actually mean-spirited. Quite the opposite in fact. David couldn't help but let out a smile and came to her defense when Damon retorted back at her.

"Come on now. You're a charming guy, you can take a joke or two." He responded, one in which those around might find a tinge bit dry and sarcastic, quite a step different from the uptight and serious David the computer guy.

As Freyja struggled to find her footings, the now metal-covered David gently held onto her shoulders to help balance herself. Once the antlers stopped colliding with his tin-foiled skins was when she received her glasses back. Her surprise at his new appearance was somewhat on par with the others, David was actually a bit amused at her response. "Too much metal? Me too." He said, his dry jokes continued. "Probably should have touched grass more in my life, I guess."

When Eckehart introduced himself, many of his words flew over his head. Rulania, The True Voice, what the heck do those mean? He could sort of understand the New Year part; this land appeared to celebrate the same kind of New Year that the people on Earth do? But as for anything new, he just kept it in his memory (literally) in case it came up later. But he was prompted to follow them, something he thought he'd have to do anyway, as there was practically zero information about this world. With each step lumbering with the sound of wood and metal beneath him, he kept up with the group into the city, all the while the song continued to play in his head. The city was grand, majestic, clearly beyond his imagination, but what caught his attention more was the behavior of these...humanoid citizens? They had a very peculiar symbol that matched what Eckehart had. Was this some sort of citizenship marker? Or something else. They were also bowing down to him, as if he was some sort of kings or heroes to be revered and respected. He did say honored guest after all, but this was a bit weird. David then felt something being handed to him, by a man with an elongated head and cylindrical nose, which was a bit creepy at first glance. Looking down, he noticed a purplish sphere, small enough to be covered within his palm, glowing under the nightsky of this new world, surrounded by a golden ring. He had no idea what this was supposed to be used for, or even what the item was.

David looked around if there was anyone having the same kind of items. Next to him was William, someone David knew more than others, so he gladly leaned over to check up on him. "Hey man, glad to see you have the better end of the makeover." He said with a wave before holding up the item he was given. "Do you have one of these as well?"

@SilverPaw@Teyao@Fading Memory
Steffen Gravinir


What originally was a somewhat proper and decorous looking fight quickly turned into a crude and ugly grappling competition. The axe man gripped tightly on one of Steffen's horn and seemed every intention of either snapping it or getting him to flinch. The pain grew sharply, like a needle jamming through his skins, but he gritted through it. As much as Steffen wanted to dish out the pain back to his opponent, he had said he would hold that axe man in place, and he would carry that out just as stated.

In fact, the man's grappling onto his horns in his desperate attempt to break free was a bigger mistake than getting grappled from behind in the first place, as he was now one hand behind his back. Steffen took no hesitation in dropping his dagger, which hadn't been quite as useful as he had hoped, and instead held onto that arm as firmly as his opponent would with his horn, with just as much pain onto it if he hadn't been wearing the runic armor that he had on him. And that, despite how unpleasant and crude it looked to the outsider, it created enough opening for his allies to strike. Vier had recovered from the explosion earlier, remarkably quickly too, and swiftly delivered his blow. The screeching sound of metals crashing was painful to the ears, but you only get to hear this sound if it worked.

His resistance continued, however, much fiercer than before, like a wounded animal who realized its desperation. Indeed, Vier's strike had pierced the armor, and whether or not he too dealt the damage was not important. The broken armor was the time for Fleuri to strike, and he readied his ancestral blade. The man's resistance was strong, worthy of the reputation of Barukstaedian raw strength. In fact, even Ingvarrs he knew might not be as capable as this nameless opponent he was in lock with. But he was the Rose's knight, the Gravinir's supposed heir, and unfortunately for his opponent, he was strong enough to hold all of that raw strength by himself. When the time was right, Steffen took a deep breath, gritted his teeth and dug his feet into the ground, his hands gripped his opponent's arm and torso tightly, giving Fleuri a few seconds of petrification for him to exploit with a nod to tell him to go ahead.

Fleuri's warcry accompanied the strike. Steffen couldn't tell exactly how much damage it had caused, but he could feel the man's grip on his horn growing weaker, the pain from the pressure beginning to lift. The Ingvarr took that just as the sign for retaliation, as he had been boiling to do after that minute of agony with his horn. He pushed the axe man's arm upward that had been holding onto his horn and swung it around to his side, while at the same time, his other hand reached over to the back of the Barukstaedian's head.

"GRAAR!!!" His roar accompanied the full and mythical might of the Ingvarr, smashing the Barukstaedian into the nearby stone wall, in particular his exposed face, before throwing him into the ground.

@Rune_Alchemist@Crimson Paladin@Creative Chaos
Irian Sinewell


The journey back had been relatively uneventful. He was thankful but expected nothing less than that of a wood ranger that had quite a stack handful of experience doing observatory work. Naturally, if the bandits weren't keen on spotting and giving chase or making any sort of movement in response to his presence, that would probably mean that they weren't exactly a clever bunch either. It made him rather confident that they probably wouldn't respond that well to a quick sweep either, something in which to make note of for the Steel Princess to decide.

Especially considering his scouting partner who wasn't too keen on making his presence a leaf in the forest. Irian looked up to see a majestic griffin cutting through the sky, a rider on its back to share its regalia. Despite the potential risk, it was still a good scouting method, and quite a sight to beholden to, even though the wood elf had had enough time around his fellow Lions to get used to it. The legends and myths surrounding these apex predators befitted its rumored heightened pride. It was good to see, but it didn't take long before it got out of sight of him.

Sometimes, Irian imagined how it would be like soaring through the air like that.

The elf took a bit of time catching back up to the camp, noticing Roger and his griffin, along with Valmyra, if he remembered correctly, the lamia warrior. He wasn't sure if the other scouts were back yet, but they seemed to be talking amongst themselves for now. Irian figured there would be a bit of time for some menial. Refilling food, water, etc. The usual boredom.

As he refilled the leather flask and took a sip, he noticed someone being a little bit...strange, let's put it so. Not to him, but towards the griffin that Roger had. Understood where its due, it was a fascinating creature, but the high elf looked immersed in another world altogether seeing that, with her swiping through her notebook. Irian might be well-versed in the art of spying on someone, it ain't good sport to be doing that to your allies.

The wood elf swung the bow from his back and raised it in the direction of Melanie. His other hand reached for an arrow, taking his time measuring and placing the arrow on the bow string before drawing and loosening the arrow. But the high elf need not worry. The arrow struck on the nearby tent's wooden support peg, and was never in danger of hitting her, to Irian at least.

Whether or not it was intentional to Melanie, Irian lowered the bow gradually and then rather casually walking up to her. "My apologies. I thought you were some spy for a second there." He said with a rather neutral but faintly amused tone. "Bad habit of mine." Eyes perked, he looked over in the same direction as her a few seconds ago towards the other two. "You seem immersed there. Would you like to be introduced?"
@PigeonOfAstora
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