Crusader Lord

Saint Valerius Academy - A Knight/Noble Fantasy

Oh? Magic? An Academy? Nobles and knights? Royals? Shenanigans of a sort?

Call me interested! :O

Caravan: An Episodic Fantasy with Worldbuilding! [Always Accepting]

Knossos Dreamwalker

Destination: The Hold of Clan Buraq

As the older occultist walked along toward the entrance gates of the city, the little wisp of fire returned to him in seemingly a flash. Turning a brief glance to it, before his eyes returned to the road ahead, the little wisp of fire began to recall to him the return message from Athulwin. While the monk was not seemingly too happy about things, at least to his ears, the little daemonic fire at least had done its job talking. Hmm. He did need to have a more consistent messenger or two he could summon, maybe something the monk wasn't as uncomfortable with? Eh. There was no changing the past, as it were, but later he'd have to ask if nothing else. Give a small list of ideas.

But the wisp seemed a tad frustrated in and of itself still, and after a small puff of smoke and a demand to 'go back home' the occultist would give a wave of his hand. As a result, the wisp would disappear, sent back to its 'home' and no longer running his errands. Better to end things there than risk it trying to go off and set something on fire....though as its summoner he had authority over it in this case. More importantly, however, was the message it had brought back.

Return to Knossos, [and] tell him that he should whisper into the desert wind when he wishes to speak to his Navigator, instead of sending an unholy thing. And... yes, tell him that I said we should keep on eye, magical or mundane, on the more naïve of the Caravan. There are some who have good intentions but too much passion.

Hmm. The two of them had been having the same sort of concern, perhaps, but the occultist would stretch his arms for a second as he tried to mentally gear himself to keep such an eye out. He'd be looking into his own business, but he'd keep eyes and ears out while their resident Navigator sat collecting the usual dust he supposed. Or in this case would it be being buried in sands? Ah, at least they weren't out in proper sand dunes and the like. Nasty things for first-timers to face, those, and he knew that from firsthand experience to boot. Nothing against Athulwin in the end of course, he did his job well. He also did good to send word to them of things farther back in the caravan along the way to boot. Made for some good company at times, even, around the campfire or during dinnertime.

Sometimes, though, the monk just seemed ever so 'tired' to the occultist. Like something more than physical strength was being drained from him. Could see it in his eyes, just about, but only due to his own experience in the field of curses and such ilk. Did this draining have to do with the darker magics seemingly afflicting him? Perhaps, if not most likely so according to his own gut instincts, but he wasn't about to pry either unless Athulwin came to him about the matter for some odd reason.

But what would be better to send a rep-....ah. Aha! That would be a perfect choice in this instance. At least since he wasn't too close to the city gates yet.

Weaving his hands in a peculiar and almost circular pattern, a small chant was mumbled off of the human's lips for a moment. Something that didn't quite sound like it was a real language, or at least aything 'civilized' with regards to many areas he'd been to before, but which made sense in the place it had come from. A nice little backwater, where he'd assisted some local tribes with a couple of cursed items they'd been tricked with in trade in return for learning more about them. A splendid time after all the de-cursing and such was said and done, but some of that knowledge had given him more tools in his 'belt' as it were.

In a light puff of smoke, a small floating mask appeared about two feet from his face. Several colorful feathers were stuck in the top of it, and its mouth was large and its teeth even somewhat imposing. While the things used to make its 'face' overall were a bit odd, though, it happily grinned wide at him as it seemed to bounce a little in place in the air.

Hider

"Ey dere, squiddy' mahn! Whatcha doin' in dese' parts?"

....Why had the spirit chosen that as a nickname for him, of all things? It was more natural than anything, akin to conjuring some little nature spirit with a bit of a twist. Or well, it was a sort of local spirit that possessed a mask offered to it that it had also made into its body. A cheerful minor being, he had to admit, always one for the positives and jokes despite whatever circumstances were going on.

[color=B0C4DE]"Er...let's not use that nickname around here please, Kua. I just need you to return to Athulwin and tell him I'll be seeking work in the city after speaking with Gadri soon. Barring that, I'll make sure to keep an eye and ear out for any trouble caused by members of the caravan here.

Once that's done, you're free to remain back at the Caravan for a bit or just return home if you'd like.

"No problem dere' boss man! Kua be' doin' his thing, den', before headin' home after a wee' little look-around da' place, eh?"

Giving him a joking wink with the mask's left eye orb, the spirit wouldn't stick around as he went off to deliver his message to Athulwin. Or, well, as the spirit had nicknamed the monk: "De Grumpy Boi". Albeit he'd only brought this spirit out in the Caravan once before, but bound to the wind this spirit was certianly closer to what the other man had 'requested' than the prior messenger. It would, though, be the first time the spirit would approach the Navigator. But Kua was a good spirit, jovial sort of compatriot, and frankly good for telling stories around camp fires should one need. All just as much as he was a lesser guardian spirit of sorts too really.

Wasn't as if he could summon the desert spirits of a certain people he'd run into in the past. Yet safe to say that bit of the past was before joining the Caravan. Which was to say, in short, that it wasn't a place he'd normally deign to return to by going 'out of the way' for it. Not unless the Caravan was already going to the place would he return there, and there he'd simply try to peddle his services as usual. Nothing too strange there, albeit cetain magic he'd have to keep especially discreet if the scars of that 'event' were likely still affecting the area. Ugh.

Still, with his last response sent the occultist would continue on his way with haste in his step.

...

...

...

It wouldn't be too long before the magic user would manage to catch up with the others. Well, Gadri and whoever else had still decided to linger around before setting off into the city. It was enough to get the older man to visually scan the faces he knew there, though, to see if anyone was showing signs of potentially making trouble. Still, without skipping too much of a beat Knossos would approach the peculiar but welcome presence of the Caravan blacksmith that was Gadri. A peculiar species, but he'd yet to get a good chance to talk to them about things and the Dinnin and so forth more. A lot he'd yet to get to like that from time to time, really, due to business or other things going on in the Caravan and its destinations.

"Gadri! Apologies if I am interrupting anything, but I just need a moment of your time. I was hoping to ask you a couple of things about this area, if I may, as I am to understand you are from these parts. Though what I wish to ask mostly amounts to 'what should I not do here' and if there's any locations I might be able to drum up some business or assist anyone around here...if possible.

Barring any of that not working out, just in case, I'd be curious if there's any good places to visit here, food to try, or the like you can think of to occupy my time otherwise admittedly."

A soft smile of mild excitement was on the older man's face, even if not very beaming and bright. Hard to be with some of the things he and others had seen on the way in, but he was hoping to make the best of the situation and where they were if nothing else. What was he going to do, be the one to cause trouble this time? Heavens forbid that day ever came!

@Enigmatik@Tortoise

GATEWAYS: THE NEXT GENERATION [CLOSED AND CONCLUDED]

Apes! Apes!

I WISH TO HEAR THE MONKES SING!

@Enigmatik

I was inspired by this, and thus wrote the following based on the first bit of a Les Miserables song:

"Do you hear the monkeys sing?
Singing the song of angry apes?
It is the music of the people
With the minds of dead hu-mans!

When the beating of your chest
Echoes the beating of war drums
There is a conflict that will start
When tomorrow comes!"

Pokemon: Dream

Clarissa Ryte

Wailord's Rest Cafe, Industrial District, Byjerfal City -> Old Toy Factory, Industrial District, Byjerfal City

(Urban Exploration)

Well, good job on that win there, Missy!” Beryl said as Clarissa would return to her table. The food was still fresh and hot, and Wobby would give a friendly salute and his usual Wobbufet. “Them bettin folk sure are happy. Not every day the Gym Leader fights and not every day someone can beat ‘em so easily. Granted, that matchup was pretty poor once that fightin’ move came out, eh?” Beryl grinned, giving Clarissa a wink. “You need anything else, lemme or Wobby here know. I gotta get back to the kitchen.”

\

"T-Thank you. Yes, that move is quite handy to have. In that sense we perhaps were a bit lucky I believe."

She didn't want to be cocky in word, even if her face was back to its usual drilled stoicism, but it was a bit lucky they'd faced an opponent so badly weak to fighting moves. Not that she felt the most comfortable accepting any sort of praise really. Even then, however, it wasn't a guarantee that they'd have won anyway with a supereffective move. Their opponent could have been just as prepared! Yet how one of Sir Lopsalot's parents had learned such a movie she had no idea....perhaps a Pokemon released by a trainer somewhere? Either way it had served them well in this instance, and for that she was grateful.

Sir Lopsalot, for his part, would simply keep smiling big like an idiot as he sat in his trainer's arms while she sat down once more at the table. He had taken a bit of a beating, that was sure, but he'd come out on top! That was far from what he'd expected, perhaps, but he ws happy all the same! Still....mmm, hot food~

"Bun."

Clarissa looked down as the Buneary in her arms tugged at her shirt collar before pointing to the food in front of them.

[color=violet]"Ah. We can eat, but before we leave I must apply one of the Potions the Professor gave me to heal you back up."

"Bun..."

"Yes, its nessecary. We still have to go hunting after those Murkrow, after all."

"Bun...Bun Bun."

With a sigh of defeat, the Buneary crossed his little arms and tried to look away. But the tone of his voice seemed to say it all really, at least in Clarissa's mind, before she looked back to Ripley. Hmm. It had been a fast battle, but it had felt like ages since the two had spoken despite it being such a short time period. Odd. Even so, she did want to make sure of things before they went onward.

"Thank you for your patience, Ripley. I hope we haven't waste too much time....but once we eat, I hope we can catch up to those Murkrow before it gets too late in the day.

Once it gets late enough, though, I will have to head to the Contest. Likely have to stay the night at the nearest Pokemon Center really. But if you'd be willing to meet me there after the Contest, then I-....it'd be nice to keep traveling in a group, I mean."

If he still wanted to keep on traveling with her, then she was open to it. But if he came to have other ideas, well, then she'd have to make do. Or, if nothing else, see if one of the other trainers wanted to group up if they were still in Byjerfal by then. Hmm. There would be time to think on those things later, especially since she had to steel herself for enduring that Contest and the aftermath.

As for now-

_{~rumble rumble~}

.....

~Not Too Much Time Later~

The rest of the meal would pass without incident, and there wasn’t much else to do in the cafe unless she wanted to go bother what was said to be someone that worked for Keira. Maybe taking a bet could be a good idea? Probably not, really though. Either way, once she finished her meal she and Riley should he want to, could easily head back out. It was getting a bit on in the day, so finding the Murkrow likely wouldn’t be much harder, though they’d still need to keep Beryls words in mind - nesting on the roof of a nearby old toy factory.

Should be fine to go poking around there.

Indeed, Clarissa and Sir Lopsalot would eat up, take the time to apply a potion to the battle-roughed Sir Lopsalot, and then try to see if they could get any further instructions on how to get to that 'old toy factory' that Beryl had mentioned if the other woman knew anything before heading out. The meal itself had been lovely, to say the least, but had been more filling and frankly heartier than Clarissa had expected for the most part. Perhaps that was good, however, considering the time they'd be busy for the rest of the day anywho. Murkrow, the contest, the afterward, and then trying to get some rest at the nearest Pokemon Center (big cities might have more than one, right?) before tentatively leaving the city the next day to continue onward.

Still, were Ripley willing to still come along and help find the Murkrow still, then he was very much welcome too. Even so, Clarissa had made clear she didn't want to rush him and his Pokemon getting to enjoy their own meal either. If he still wanted to join up with them as a group as well, then she had made clear that if he needed he could catch up with her and Sir Lopsalot at the nearest Pokemon Center they'd try to settle down at for the night. Herself and Sir Lopsalot had eaten quite a good bit faster than she'd anticipared in the end,really, albeit they had both been a tad ravenous and genuinely hungry as well.

However, feeling a bit embarassed about the situation she had elected to at least temporarily 'go ahead' to seek out the Murkrow in time to catch a good one before the Contest. It was an odd thing, but Sir Lopsalot had at least gone along with it in the end. Well, her Pokemon had gone along with it after a final goodbye salute to Wobby for some reason. Such an adamantly odd little Pokemon he could be at times....but that was her partner in a nutshell really. And it was something perhaps a bit endearing, in the psychic's own mind, about him to boot.

Still, the duo would do their best to get directions and seek out the factory. They had no time to lose! It was time to catch a Murkrow!

Pokemon: Dream

Clarissa Ryte

Wailord's Rest Cafe, Industrial District, Byjerfal City

(Urban Exploration)

As the small steel type barreled towards the Buneary, it’d raise a sharpened claw. Sir Lopsalot would bounce again, and raise its little fist right towards the Aron. Arons claws met Lopsalots torso. Lopsalots fist met Aron’s face.

Sir Lopsalot fell to a knee as the force of the punch caused Aron to skid across the floor.

A moment of silence fell over the crowd as they looked on.

Clarissa held her breath for a moment as she watched on, doing so without even taking notice, as she watched on while silence came over the crowd of sailors and spectators. A simultaneous exchange of blows, a notable impact, and an event that could take them out either way perhaps. Sir Lopsalot just had to hold on a bit longer....she could feel the emotion without even having to read Sir Lopsalot's mind. The palpable tension. The grit as he dug for what strength he had left.

“A…aroooon….”

Aron tried to stand once more, but found its legs unable to support itself. Sir Lopsalot would just barely manage to stand.

This was followed by a cheer, and a hearty laugh from Tuule.

“Well now, ain’t that something…” He’d chuckle, recalling Aron to the pokebally.

Victory!

"Bun...Bunbunbun!!!"

A victoriously joyful cry from the little Buneary came out, though rather than some kind of brag he seemed to be more just plain excited than anything else. Albeit he was still tired all the same, and it was easy to tell by him still barely being able to stand.

Looking into the mind of her Pokemon, though, Clarissa could feel a sense of grateful relief wash over the Buneary at the same time as the wave of excitement came over him as well. It was bizarre, and yet she didn't feel it was too bizarre because....she somewhat felt the same. The wave of mostly relief washing over her mind, the mild excitement she was trying to hold back as she walked over to Sir Lopsalot and picked up him again in her arms, and even a tiny bit of something else trying to meagerly pop into her thoughts...pride? Pride in her Pokemon partner, at least, if nothing else. But she? She had done little of the work compared to her Pokemon really.

Win or lose, though, it had been their first battle...and while she had tried to brace for a potential loss, instead they'd gained a hard-fought victory! The psychic's face would breifly shift as a small smile came to grace her lips, even if just for a brief bit, though she would soon try to reassert control back into her usual stoic front as soon as she would take notice of what she was doing eventually. Still, Tuule seemed to be approaching her now, and she didn't want to, er, seem like she was bragging or anything either. Or too overly e-excited either really...

“Gahaha, good work lass. That little bunny of yours is a tough fella.” He’d walk over, offering a hand for her to shake. “Too bad that wasn’t an official match or you’d have yourself a nice little new badge for your troubles, heh.

Clarissa paused for a moment at the offered handshake, her back lightly tensing up, though ultimately would extend one of her hands to shake Tuule's back. Not the most confident handshake despite her and Sir Lopsalot's bare win, admittedly, yet it was firm enough as she tried to be professional about things as best as she could. Not that she wasn't having to devote some energy to containing herself a little bit even so. Heh.

"Thank you, but truly I give most of the credit to Sir Lopsalot here. He's a hard worker for sure....and I'm very proud of him," the psychic would somewhat shakily admit as she looked down for a second, lightly squeezing the sore but happy Buneary closer to her for a moment as Sir Lopsalot smiled as big as he could back at her like a big goofy idiot despite it all, before looking back up as Tuule, [color]"As for an official match with you, I look forward to it one day! Though admittedly we've only just begun our journey today."[/color]

"Bun!"

*rumble rumble*

A breif flush of embarrassed red and pink came to the girl's cheeks for a moment.

Oh. Right. She had been waiting for food before the battle, and they did still need to get to those troublesome Murkrow! She wanted to catch one, she hoped, and likewise Sir Lopsalot had seemed to want to fight them more since they'd learned of Wobby's poor tale of being bullied by them-...ah. Wait, that last part she'd mistakenkly picked up among his more recent 'thoughts' when looking into his mind to see how he felt. But still, they had to strike while they had daylight! Then she had to be at the contest, then linger afterward, before hopefully reuniting with her compatriot to leave the city the next day. Hopefully.

Caravan: An Episodic Fantasy with Worldbuilding! [Always Accepting]

Knossos Dreamwalker

Destination: The Emerald Forest

Well, that had certainly been an adventure of sorts back in the forest. Galaxor had seemingly gotten his wish for some combat, though not all of them had gotten out unscathed, and many a spirit had been put to rest in turn. He almost wished he could talk more to the ghost of the dead paladin that had appeared, get some information and such down while he could, but the caravan itself had to move onto the next destination as well. In that vein, he'd been pressed on time to wind things down and grab what he could on the way out for study despite his desire to stick around and do some studying. Hmm. That and they needed to tend to the wounded.

After ensuring Terliu's raised dead were fully gone, and insisting on being the last to leave the barrow, Knossos had taken to trying to gather any potentially dangerous items that might need containment. In particular, he would take the sword of the released Wraith and several key 'interesting' chunks of the now-smashed throne as 'souveniers' for his cart. His body still felt sore enough from having been slammed against the wall by the final blast, somewhat, but it had felt worth the effort in order to ensure further passerby couldn't get involved in something dangerous. And on that matter-

*CRACKLE*

*CRUNCH*

*CREAK*

Someone had to remove the barrow from any future equation. The spirits of the dead had been appeased, and fire was a manner of burial in many places, so with such in mind he'd gone about a controlled burn of sorts.

Flames had licked the insides of the barrow with wanton glee, sparks dancing as the flames had spread about any lingering bone or tissue he could apply it to. Oranges flittered about with reds and flames of black as the dance continued, the magical hellfire seeming to have a mind of its own almost as Knossos conjured and directed it. The occultist aimed at removing any traces of what had been. Bones. Marrow. Items. Burnable materials. Even if it left the history of the place an unknown to any others, the better to remove anything too dangerous and purge it. Even if that meant demonic fire had to be applied to the problem as a solution.

Once he was assured of the inside being cleared out, the occultist had quenched the flames at his command and collapsed the entrance of the barrow completely for good measure.

...Better some things were to be left forgotten to history, perhaps, once it had all been resolved and cleansed.

In that vein, the occultist would turn back toward the caravan, take one quiet look back, and then take his prizes as he began the march back to catch up with the others. Still, he had a bottle of wine to bring to a certain cheese-maker, and some new artifacts to study and place in containment. So it wasn't a loss overall, per say, but it was certainly something he hoped wouldn't repeat itself too often in the future either.

---

Destination: The Hold of Clan Buraq

Ah, sand. What could he say about it? It was hot, it was harsh, and indeed it got everywhere. A lot of people hated it for that reason, and yet those accustomed to such terrain certainly were more well-adjusted. It was in this vein that Knossos felt glad to be familiar with such terrain, even if it had meant conjuring himself some extra water to bring on the road. Albeit water he couldn't really 'share' with others, but which he could drink of for some particular reasons, but water to sustain himself all the same. All the same, the presence of the olden road underneath their feet and sparse vegetation of the dry scrubland and savannah they were in was definitely distinct from the likes of a full-on desert.

He could feel an insivisible chill run down his spine, however, at the mere thought of seeing 'those' rolling dunes and ruins and so forth again. A place he hoped they wouldn't route through if possible in the future, much less run into a bit.

Still, this sort of landscape was not alien to him either. Not after he'd been traveling with the caravan for some time by now. However, this particular location was at least new to him personally.

A colossal ochre stone wall bars easy entrance to the hold itself, but even where wall ends and mountain begins, the defences continue. Cut into the rock itself are structures and fortifications – guard posts, murder holes and even springalds, all manned by tiny figures only distinguishable from the mountains themselves thanks to the glints of light from their broad shields and scaled armour.

But this is only the beginning of it. Just outside of the walls, stretched out in the no-mans land between farming estates and the city itself is a sea of tents, wagons, temporary structures and perhaps most astounding of all are the rolling towers and citadels, and the humongous beasts that have been hitched near them.

They stand nearly ten men tall to their shoulders alone, with tremendously long noses that curl and twist like vast snakes. Massive tusks jut from either side of these trunks, banded with steel and affixed with vicious looking blades or vast metal rams at their ends. Mûmakils – Oliphaunts. Their lesser brethren, the elephants, live in Alwyne’s warmer climes, but these are alike them in shape alone: these creatures are the largest warbeasts seen on this continent – indeed, perhaps anywhere on Alwyne.

Constructions formed from rugged and weather-worn stone stood out before the eyes of the seasoned traveler, seeming to jut out of the side of the mountain like some part of a great, yawning maw of sorts. A well-made and perhaps centuries old structure built into the mountain? Perhaps. Yet the stone seemed hewn further than this, the mountain itself incorporated into the defenses of the place they were approaching, and well-fitted to the shorter stature of the denizens who manned them either more or much less visibly. A veritable fortress of an entrance indeed....and who knew how many times it had been tested over the years. How many times arrows and stones and the like had scratched away at it alongside the winds and grains of sand. What stories such things could tell, and yet sat as silent as the stone it was all composed of! Haha. Yet the approach wasn't all simply scrubland and the like either, thank goodness.

The view of passing estates along the road, covered in swaths of verdant farmland, was certainly a sight of its own as well. And yet he got the sneaking suspicion that not all in the fields were perhaps willing participants or too akin to the serfs of his old homeland. Or perhaps he was simply overthinking things based on what he was observing, what he saw, and what feeling he got from things as they simply passed by. But moving into the empty space between these and the oncoming walls, though, things seemed to more dramatically shift. Rolling towers and citadels, wrought from hardy materials, sat about like moveable fortifications that could be brought in and out of battle. These in turn were pulled by vast beasts of size and scale and scope. Greater than the height of many men these greats beasts of burden and war seemed to stand, with vast trunks that seemed to be bordered by titanic, curved, and metal-tipped tusks of grand and magnificent ivory that almost seemed to hold a light sheen under the unceasing light of the scorching sun. He'd seen smaller sorts than these out in other areas of Alwyne in years long gone, but these were certainly the largest subjects he'd seen in quite a long time! Not the largest beasts or such he'd ever seen in his life, admittedly, but nothing to scoff at either in this case.

Alongside all of this seemed to come the sea of tents, carts, and other beasts of burden that seemed to be scattered like grains of sand upon a sandy beach shore. Was all of this space dedicated to hold travelers and caravans and the like in this manner, or had it simply become such over the years without much prompting otherwise? It was curious, but still wasn't an uncommon sight for a larger city in his experience. Keeping potential groups and such outside, with people able to peddle wares and services outside as travelers and merchants wrought business inside and persons generally moved in and out of the main gate along with the flow of goods. It was familiar in a sense that was somewhat comforting to him, though some of the 'goods' were certainly something beyond his 'tastes' as it were.

"Please, be quiet, they'll hear..."

The voice of a mother hushing a crying child, all as they both walked in chains by them and headed down into the city proper.

"Get it again!"

The voice of a soldier ordering around a camp slave, one who had managed to stumble and spill a vessel of water in front of her master. Seemed to be far from 'new', if the marks on her back and clothing were of any indication, and her quiet nod and movement to go grab more water were simply confirmation of his suspicions on the matter.

He'd heard of such times in other places, seen them elsewhere as well, and for many such practices were very much normalized. Standard. Things they had done for so many generations it was alien to consider otherwise. In others, such as where he had come from, such a trade was seen as useless for the most part. A lack of need for such hard labor slaves where servants were simply fine, where serfs got protection and to keep enough to eat, and where merchants had been growing in number as many moved toward the bigger cities in his youth. His youth. It had been such a long time since then, really....enough to make the occultist wonder what if anything had changed over the decades back there just as much as it made some part of him desire to avoid the location altogether yet still.

The caravan is stopped just outside the army encampment and directed to park themselves in a wide-open space, a few other, smaller caravans already circled. With the return of the army, the city is filled to capacity, but travellers are free to come and go as they always have… So long as they follow the Clan’s laws.

Regardless of what was being done here or not, they were in the land of another place. Another people. Another culture. It benefitted the caravan to maintain neutrality and not earn the ire of the locals in places they went to, whether they liked it or not, and anyone who endangered that....well, made themselves a danger to the caravan. A grim truth of the world, but one that had to be abided by lest they earn themselves a fair bit of dangerous attention. Not that some places didn't hand that out in spades whether they tried to or not, but if they could avoid it then such would be good.

...So yes, he hoped he would not have to try to place a quick curse or two on certain members of the company to keep them from putting a target on everyone's backs. To that end he'd need to consult with Athulwin for further approval as a precaution.

"Victra valis..."

A quietly muttered spell would emerge from the occultist's lips, a small wisp of flickering black, red, and orange flame would emerge before his eyes. It seemed to stare back at him, looking like a tiny floating fireball, but it was as much a little messenger as Knossos could muster for the moment being without bringing in something too big. In that he'd worry if the locals would react more or less badly, but he was unaccustomed to Dinnin religion and its ways in the general sense. Better to be small and safer than sorry, he felt, even as he rolled his self-moving cart into its position in the parked caravan train, got out of the cooling shade of the inside of his covered cart, and lightly hopped off to stretch his legs finally.

"Bring a message from me to Athulwin, asking him if we should take any measures to handle 'potentially worrisome' members of our caravan at this particular location pre-emptively or otherwise. Also see if he has any other advice on the matter otherwise as well. I want to be informed as a precaution for the most part.

Also, please don't set anything on fire. Not unless its someone trying to make a campfire on the open ground along the way."

A small puff of smoke rose from the top of the fiery wisp. Almost like it was huffing in mild frustration at being lectured on not being able to set something on fire. Even so, it would flit away as it moved through the scorching air to find and deliver the message to Athulwin. No fire? Hmphf! Almost made the little thing want to return to the demonic plane it had been summoned from....though admittedly the driving heat and encironment in this part of the mortal plane was still pleasant enough to it otherwise.

In the meantime, the occultist would seek out Gadri and see if the smith knew if he could peddle his occult services here safely (or not) in this place. Or whatever the sort might be. Some further insight into the local area and practices would certainly be a welcome thing if nothing else.

We Aren't The Hero's Party - Fanrasy Anime RP (Cancelled)

With a few things happening on my end IRL, and interest getting a tad crowded here, I'll unfortunately have to withdraw my interest for the time being.

Will keep an eye out though!

o7

The New Marvels: An Avengers Academy RP

Alcides

Location: Stark Tower, Manhattan, NYC

---

A situation already? On their first day? A worrying sign of things to come, perhaps, given they hadn't even had a single session to work together or attempt to figure things out. A cohesive unit had to train together, work together, and the like. He'd learned actually something about that back at the testing facility, at least, albeit it had been pushed on them in a much more practicality-focused manner to say the least. Among other things. But right now they needed to focus on the task at hand, and he hoped that things would turn out well somehow. Some way. At the very least he could determine what he knew and could do, if nothing else, and that would be better than nothing in the end perhaps. He just had to rememmber that....well....this was different than what he'd been sent out to do before all of this. Yes. Something to keep in mind there.

Yet the 'locker room' they'd been told about seemed to be more than he had thought. Their arrival down there with their 'honorary' Avengers cards would certainly give them access to the lockers, and their rooms and such from the sounds of it, and even acted as a communicator of sorts somehow as well. Hmm. Multi-purpose to be sure, but worryingly concentrated into one simple device. What about software vulnerabilities? Hardware concerns? Hmm. Perhaps things to ask about later when it came to operational vulnerabilities and risks, because he didn't know everything about these devices either for that matter. However, the presence of seemingly a detox space and showering areas in general was something he felt thankful for in the end to see there. Cleaning up and having something ready in case of post-mission exposure to harmful substances to some extent was certainly a good thing to be sure.

Yet as he approached his own locker-

Hell, they went above and beyond for Alcides' locker in particular; it seemed to be hooked up to something back in the Workshop, and at the swipe of his card, called his suit to the location in its compacted, almost gel-like state to flow into him and set itself up however necessary. They spared nothing with this program, that much was certain.

Hmm. He didn't have to go to the Workshop as he'd thought prior, and the system seemed built particularly for his suit to be brought to him to boot. Perhaps he could ask about it later? It'd be curious to delve into the engineering behind that. But for now, he ws focused on something else entirely: The mission. In that vein the prospective Avenger would call down his suit, it quickly arriving soon afterward in its compacted state as he reached out and made contact with it. From here the compacted gel-like state of the suit seemed to immediately respond, rapidly assembling itself over his body as Jason waited for the usual ping of his HUD and other systems to become acessible once more. Reserve power was still mostly full. Systems nominal. Perfect.

As everyone hurried up to the roof and a beautiful waiting Quinjet, though, Jason would connect his internal comms systems for the suit into those of the Quinjet instead. Not that his fully assembled suit would fit well inside of the aircraft, but he didn't want to miss any of the breifing either. The perks of being too big to sit with the others, perhaps, but it at least gave him some form of flexibility in their arrival. In that vein, as the Quinjet took off he would also take off in his suit to follow right alongside it.

"Okay, kids, from what I know, we've headed to STARK Tower. Sure some of you have seen it; one of Tony's classic monuments to hubris."

Hubris? He had heard Iron Man was the sort who had quite the eccentric and self-interested sort of personality. Then again, he'd also used his own life as payment for securing the future of the world. Well, the universe even. Jason wasn't fully sure how to feel about the matter personally, but even so he could feel there was a history between Happy and the deceased Avenger from the tone of the other man's voice alone. The way he spoke. Respect was one thing, but giving some crap to one's friends also seemed to be a bit of a thing that one did when they were close to someone as well sometimes.

Hmm.

"According to what our systems picked up just now, there'd been a break-in with a suspicious grace period before all the fun bits and bobs of the tower tried kicking in. Dunno how someone infiltrated it so easily, but that's that...Beyond that, we know that Mrs. Stark was under attack, and we don't know her current status...""According to what our systems picked up just now, there'd been a break-in with a suspicious grace period before all the fun bits and bobs of the tower tried kicking in. Dunno how someone infiltrated it so easily, but that's that...Beyond that, we know that Mrs. Stark was under attack, and we don't know her current status..."

"That means at least one perpetrator, but if the readings we got are accurate, it seems whoever attacked Mrs. Stark was only a part of a larger scheme. There's also been some trace elements of nuclear radiation, which is...Off. You'll all need to stay on your toes, okay? We're closing in."

Sensors detect multiple hostiles ahead. Multiple mutated genomes are present. Structural damage is detected in the vicinity as well.

And then something else pinged up on the HUD and rang in his ears as the suit communicated further to him.

Detecting falling biological mass. Subject Status: Alive. Incapacitated. Identity: Pepper Stark Potts. Alias: Rescue. Conclusion: Individual is in a state of dangerous and lethal freefall.

ALERT: Further detecting a mutated genome moving to intercept Ms. Potts. Subject deemed highly dangerous. Interception reccomended.

"There's-"

However...Something distracted Hogan, which would prove costly. While it was hard to judge at first, he saw her tumbling through the air like a doll tossed from a window; it was Rescue, or rather..."PEPPER!" That moment of alarming emotion was what left the Quinjet vulnerable, as a sickly green ray tore straight through one of their wings, sending the vessel plummeting at an alarming pace. "Shit! Everyone, hold on!"

ALERT: Attack inbound. Evasive manuvers reccomended!

Jason didn't get a chance to say anything to the others, being forced to veer out of the way as the ray tore through the air and through one of the Quinjet's wings. While Happy moved to get the ship on the ground in a sudden crash landing, however, the former child soldier would attempt a rapid retaliation in the meantime. Better than leaving the others open to more attack by turning his attention away from the enemy in the heat of the moment, perhaps, or so he felt about the matter for now. With this the left shoulder of Jason's suit lightly and swiftly whooshed open as two micro-missiles armed and Jason directed the systems to lock onto the grouped targets down on the ground below. Avoid civilian targeting. Precision mode. And....firing!

Two micro missiles would rapidly stream out, jetting down smartly and with precision toward where Elly and the other grouped-up members of the 'Bad Bunch' were. An attempt to buy time for the others to land and get out of the Quinjet, but likewise not being aimed to, well, 'kill' in this case either. Enough to make someone panic, scatter, but not aimed at taking them out. Just aimed at open spots and set to be potent enough to send them flying back if they got hit in this case in the general sense he hoped.

In the meantime, the suited younger man would gun the suit's thrusters to try to intercept the falling woman. Not only was she the Academy's headmaster, or headmistress or whatever term was used, but she was a civilian in danger. As much as part of him wanted to make those missiles he'd fired be lethal, or prioritize taking down the enemies with lethal force as he'd done so many times before, Jason felt his teeth gritting some as he tried to focus and override the automatic responses his prior many years of training and experience had taught him down to an instinct. Because....it wasn't easy. It wasn't going to be, and yet it still felt tough enough as it was.

But while he was trying to be on top of things, and gunning it toward Pepper in his suit to catch her before the reptilian-looking creature (as it seemed to be as he got closer, it seemed the others would finally land and manage to get out. Mostly because the comms began blaring with people shouting things out and the like.

“Jason! Get Mrs. Stark! Make sure she is safe then join back!” Hopefully the flying machine could get to her fast enough to catch the fall, though something did concern him from his brief stint looking that way. “Large monster approaching her location!”

“Five outside the building. Unknown abilities.” He glanced over at the more… human looking individuals in the other stoic individual who snapped about beds being beds, Mazie, Thunderbolt, Mia, and the siblings. “Keep distant until you see an opening. Provide suppressing fire if you can. Civilians seem gone.” He did not mean to insult anyone’s capabilities, but judging based on appearance, there were maybe only one or two that could survive a head on collision with that blast. Himself and….

He turned towards Laura. Whatever the concerning feeling he had about her was going to have to be correct. “You. Come with me, or do as you wish.” He shifted the sword in his hands, before stepping out. His golden armor glistened in the sun as he dropped his visor.

He let loose a bellowing “CHAAAARRRGE!”

Exciteable Armor Guy

....Well this was just a great start, wasn't it? Ok. So he would focus on what he was doing, but the others seemed to be trying to do something on their own as well. Right. And one of them seemed to be barking orders already like they were the leader. Etc.

"Avoid civilians and try to mitigate structual damage as well, everyone, where and if possible. Over."

It was his own attempt to at least help in the matter by making the note.

"Alright, everyone. Apologies for my bad English -- I'm Izkry, and I'll be your eyes in the sky today." With a soft command to Dancer, he sent one drone to take photos of the five on the ground, with the second drone following after Jason to keep tabs on him and the one called Pepper, also with orders to photograph their sixth opponent.

"Happy, do you recognize any of these people?" he asked, displaying the images across his screen.

Regrettably, one of them actually was recognizable. "One. The blonde with the fur-lined jacket? Anastasia Kravinoff, otherwise known as Kraven the Hunter. Inherited the title from her father after he...Well, that's not important. She's strong, fast, and has a level of martial prowess that could make trained military men and women look like toddlers. Seems like this may be more dangerous than we thought..."

"Hear that, folks? Lady with the spear and the fur jacket is highly dangerous. Take her out from a distance, if you can, as she is extremely competent at close range."

Comms Support

....Well this was just a great start, wasn't it? Ok. So he would focus on what he was doing, but the others seemed to be trying to do something on their own as well. Right. And one of them seemed to be barking orders already like they were the leader. Etc.

"Roger that, Izkry and Happy. Already prioritizing the rescue of Ms. Potts on my end, but requesting analysis of the other body trying to intercept her fall. If possible, Izkry. Over."

His suit and sensors were one thing, but if the other creature moving to intercept the falling Ms. Potts could be identified or something of the sort then it'd be a welcome thing. Well, if Izkry had the time and field capabilities for that on the fly at least. However, Pepper was his top priority and ensuring her safety. In that vein he wasn't going to fire on the other individual moving toward her to avoid further endangering civilians on the ground or making more of an unessecary mess for that matter in this moment.

“Fine, whatever you say captain.” Elias said with a sarcastic undertone in his voice as he hopped down onto the street. His purple eyes glared towards their targets ahead of them, Feeling a burning sensation building deep in his gut. His eyes flickered to a burning Orange that matched the flames that suddenly engulfed both his arms. He began to hurl balls of hellfire towards the line of villains as he walked towards them in a calm manner. He looked between them trying his best to guess who was going to be more trouble then the others.

“Personally I think the dragon is going to be a bit of an issue.” He called out to the other students in between fire balls. “I can distract it if we need to, I don't look it, but I'm pretty durable.”

The Might Morphin Halloween Ranger

....Well this was just a great start, wasn't it? Ok. So he would focus on what he was doing, but the others seemed to be trying to do something on their own as well. Right. And one of them seemed to be barking orders already like they were the leader. Etc.

"See if anyone else in engaging the dragon. If not, see if you can break another enemy away from the group perhaps to help divide the enemy group up. Spread their attention. Try not to bunch up too tightly. Over."

If the guy didn't have any ideas, then go or the old 'divid et impera' strategy. Divide the enemy's attention rather than put all their focus on just one of them. Split their attention and capabilities. Etc. Might make it easier for them to handle things in this....rough and sudden first 'mission' of sorts they were being thrown into.

Hopefully everything would turn out alright at this rate....somehow.

We Aren't The Hero's Party - Fanrasy Anime RP (Cancelled)

Another Xalt RP?! :O

Count me curious...and interested!

Pokemon: Dream

Clarissa Ryte

Wailord's Rest Cafe, Industrial District, Byjerfal City

(Urban Exploration)

The small steel type would dig its claw against the floor, choosing to instead meet the Buneary head on. As Sir Lopsalot sprung forward, his fist struck the Aron right between the eyes, earning a small squeal from the pokemon. It was not enough to deter it, though as soon Buneary would find itself being smacked again with the Aron’s claws. The entirety of Aron’s body tensed as the blow landed, the metallic sheen on its claws growing brighter and sharper!

Its attack had been raised!

The Buneary's fist struck the Aaron, but for the enemy to strike back so soon was a surprise! It was enough to send the Buneary backward again, teeth clenching tight in pain as the bunny tucked into a roll, but the raise of the enemy's attack wasn't frankly good news either. But...what could they do? Hmm. There had to be something that could be done to stop the enemy! But should they defend again, and try to raise defense, or should they try to attack the enemy once more?

He didn't know, but perhaps his trainer did! Maybe they stood a chance?

“That’s it, Aron! Sharpen those claws! Chase after it!” Aron wasted no time, intending on barreling down Sir Lopsalot before it could raise its attack any further!

What?! That had been a good blow from the enemy, and while Sir Lopsalot's defense had been raised Clarissa had no idea if they could take another unmitigated attack! The enemy was barreling down on Sir Lopsalot, as fast as those tiny legs could at least, it seemed, so they had little time to think. On the other hand, they'd raised Sir Lopsalot's attack, and the enemy was charging right in at them! At least the Buneary had rolled back some instead of just hitting the ground, giving him a little but not too much distance now, but...she....and they....

...No! She couldn't afford to let the nerves win. Win or lose, they had to see this through to the end. That was their resolve!

"Before that Aron can get to you, Sir Lopsalot, bounce back and counterattack with another Power-Up Punch!

Give it everytthing you've got!"

They had no time to try to tuck in and defend again. With one raise in Sir Lopsalot's defense, and one boost to his attack, there was a chance he could survive this trade of blows! In that vein, the Buneary would come out of his roll and onto his feet, eyes gleaming with determination as his small fist came up and he propelled his body with as much speed as he could back at the Aaron once more. His small hand, clenched into a fist, glowed once more with an awesome power! Its mighty grip told him to defeat the foe before him, no matter what!

His arms were also longer somewhat than the opponent's stubbier legs, perhaps, and he had speed on his side! It was worth a shot! Any little thing, any bit of effort, everything had to go into this! Such was the Buneary's adamant determination, and the resolve he shared with his trainer!

"Buuuuuuuun!"

POWER

UP

PUUUUUNCH!

Win or lose, this was the start of their grand journey!

@Rune_Alchemist@Bartimaeus