Band of the Falcon inbound.
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A Spiny Ant
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Most Recent Posts
Got it. Also, what races are there? We sticking with just humans?
So, how much of this RP takes place inside Hathforth Castle (e.g balls and feasts and politics and yapping) and how much of it takes place in the broader Arrowfell province? You mentioned an interfering duke that's preventing the Queen from getting total control of the Glasic Fields, but then there's also a straight up rebellion in place that I'm assuming isn't exactly peaceful.
Regardless,
Regardless,
Those idiots! Did they forget that their fellow mage-biker was right behind them?!
It was like staring into an open oven, the way her eyes teared up reflexively from the intensifying dry heat. Just by existing, the fireball was charring its surroundings, the cheap wallpaper curling away while plastic melted. The sprinkler system was worthless; perhaps the building was too old or the city too corrupt to care for such safety systems. Behind her, the bikers were scrambling away, as was the remaining highschooler. But what could she do? Where could she direct it?
Divert it to the left side and the single high schooler would be caught. Dodge to the side and deflect it back and it would hit the alcohol or the kitchen, and likely trigger an even larger explosion. Send it towards Dante like Finn shouted at her to do and far too many unconscious or prone bikers would just be turned to barbeque by it, and they were all humans. Bounce it upwards? With the building as it was, the ceiling might just collapse upon them all.
Past the solar flame, the threefold barrier made by the trio of mages shone.
“For everyone’s sake, that barrier better be strong, fellas.”
Holy light imbued itself upon her sheathed blade, before Estelle released it as a slash, striking dead-center upon the flaming sphere. The Witch Hunter’s Prohibition traced over the fireball, constricting its arcane capabilities and slowing its flight just enough for her to rush forth and thrust her Instrument dead-center. A chime resounded, the invisible barrier that coated her Dai-katana reacting to the weight of the de-leveled fireball.
With all these factors, Estelle could only hope that she would repel the projectile back into the mages’ barrier.
If she couldn’t though?
Well, her Arcane Defense was her highest Defense.
Cassius fixed C with a flat look at that parting question.
"No."
And like that, the two were gone, leaving him to the relative quiet of the clinic.
His head ached, he felt sick to the stomach, and he was getting the sense that he had ended up in a situation that'd make it difficult to have a semblance of a normal life, but at the same time, Cassius had accepted that normality wouldn't be something that he could expect at all right now. He could see screens and numbers, and he could send messages to others with what was functionally a thought. He was likely able to understand foreign languages with no issue, and he was clearly not human anymore.
And he had killed someone.
He had killed someone. Someone who was basically a kid. Someone who tried to kill him. Someone who had a family and friends and a life and a job. Someone who was a maniac working for some sort of gang or terrorist organization or something. Someone whose innards were so warm and moist, whose flesh became to resemble the colors of candy and the stench of a butchers shop. Someone who he maybe didn't need to kill, if he had simply aimed for the arm with the sword instead. Someone who could have lived, if he just held them off or held them down for the handful of seconds? minutes? eternities? that it took for Meira to return.
He had killed someone, and there was no going back from that.
Cassius clenched his jaw, furrowed his brows, trying to explode his spiraling thoughts by intensifying the headache he felt. It helped, somewhat, but certainly not enough, certainly not to the point where his imagination didn't recycle that moment over and over again, a playlist of all the bad choices he made within an hour of dying and being reborn only to almost die again. He had to do something. If he slept now, it'd only get worse. His still-functional hand reached for his pockets, but there was nothing there. No smartphone, of course. His smartphone, or at least a cellular phone, dwelt within his mind now. It was as good as any other time to catch up.
C should be speaking with Meira right now. If you have questions, send them over to him so he can ask. I am bed-bound right now, so I won't be able to pick you up. Are you still in the shack? It's night now; I'd recommend hiding somewhere because there's a possibility of someone else occupying it for shelter. Slimes aren't considered dangerous, but maybe they're considered food.
Also, what's your name?
Auguz wasn’t stopping this.
That didn’t make sense. What the hell was that orc thinking? If they were using real weapons, which this whole training session was supposed to simulate, a thrust like that would have killed her opponent. Even if it didn’t kill her opponent, it would have destroyed their ability to breathe, and they’d have spent their time wheezing and bleeding until she finished them off a few moments later.
But instead?
The little shit was clutching his chest with one hand and half-charging, half-stumbling towards her with what remained of his strength, swinging wildly. Momentum built up by the third, and soon, the hefty ‘imbalance’ of the wooden mace worked in the weapon’s favor, building up greater and greater speed. With such a difference in mass, there was basically no hope that a direct thrust with her ‘spear’ wouldn’t be swatted away again. Clearly though, if her ‘spear’ wasn’t a spear, she didn’t have any need to treat it as one either.
And between two sticks, the longer one was always better.
Esfir continued to retreat, sliding her hands to the very base of the spear’s shaft. She watched the patterns of the runt’s swings, got the measure of it, and then, in a position more like a baseball player than anything else, retaliated with a swing of her own. The wind whistled as the spear swung diagonally, grazing the dirt as she aimed for her opponent’s shins.
@Zeroth
That didn’t make sense. What the hell was that orc thinking? If they were using real weapons, which this whole training session was supposed to simulate, a thrust like that would have killed her opponent. Even if it didn’t kill her opponent, it would have destroyed their ability to breathe, and they’d have spent their time wheezing and bleeding until she finished them off a few moments later.
But instead?
The little shit was clutching his chest with one hand and half-charging, half-stumbling towards her with what remained of his strength, swinging wildly. Momentum built up by the third, and soon, the hefty ‘imbalance’ of the wooden mace worked in the weapon’s favor, building up greater and greater speed. With such a difference in mass, there was basically no hope that a direct thrust with her ‘spear’ wouldn’t be swatted away again. Clearly though, if her ‘spear’ wasn’t a spear, she didn’t have any need to treat it as one either.
And between two sticks, the longer one was always better.
Esfir continued to retreat, sliding her hands to the very base of the spear’s shaft. She watched the patterns of the runt’s swings, got the measure of it, and then, in a position more like a baseball player than anything else, retaliated with a swing of her own. The wind whistled as the spear swung diagonally, grazing the dirt as she aimed for her opponent’s shins.
@Zeroth
Bro on the yapping cycle once more.
"Adapa, return."
Amidst the speeches and declarations, the ceremony where one sorted themselves into two competing affiliations, Otis retrieved his Adapa from where he had left it in the forest and re-examined the recording. The creature had surrendered relatively quickly and had invoked rights that it did not actually possess...but that the three who stayed were willing to humor. Ciara had found some form of kinship with it, no doubt, and now, she had approached the golden pillar and announced herself as a Sword. So too did Chunji, a sanguine trickle upon his nose the price of staring into the Sun.
And now, the Strigidae ascended. Valen's gaze was set upon another, but that was no matter.
Instead...
Otis turned towards Principal Raja.
"When I left, there were at least three students who were bound in the clinic. Chloe, Davil, and, as you would know, Gulliver. Rio, from Compact 3, also seems to be missing from the crowd. Now," he gestured the golden pillar, "this would not change my personal intention of joining the Sword of Wund, but for those who have missed the ceremony due to injury or deficiencies, would this event be hosted again? Is there a less ceremonial method of attunement? Or are they simply automatically sorted, as a form of punishment for having failed to attend?" He folded his arms, head tilting to the side. "On a separate note, since you seem to be relatively free at the moment, considering that there's neither a limit on the length of student speeches nor is there any paperwork you need to attend to during this process...Principal Raja, could you provide me with a few examples of the feats one would need to accomplish in order to gain access to the Iris Records?"
Estelle probably would have said something by way of apology, really. In the heat of the moment, she had simply assumed that the shadow-faced hooded biker-mages were up to no good as well, and that it’d be for the better to take the initiative after giving so much initiative to everyone else. But lo and behold, that particular fellow really was just some guy trying to keep his head down.
Doctor Moller had basically given them all a kill order, of course, but mages definitively weren’t monsters, and if they were chill as well?
The Witch Hunter felt a bit bad. She still felt worse though, when the dryad’s vine wrapped around her neck and yanked her back into the fray. Crashing against the table that she had just toppled over herself, Estelle instinctively grabbed at the vine choking her and released another mana-burning prohibition. Holy sigils raced down the length of the vine until it connected to the offending-dryad’s main body, before purifying the evil power that dwelt within. It weakened the creature’s grip enough for Estelle to break free, allowing her to roll away right as a biker’s boot stomped upon where her head was moments ago.
And now it was a proper scramble, a mad melee.
The Dai-Katana, perpetually sheathed, swung from side-to-side, clearing out space and deflecting incoming blows. Two of the dryads were still far too close to the girls for Estelle’s liking, and she forced herself into the space, tripping up one of the bikers as she glided through. Surrounded now by monsters at all angles, her Divine Domain, that eerie sense for chaotic presences, activated at full power, allowing her natural senses instead to turn towards the fireball that was being enhanced by three of the biker-mages.
Oh, that was going to be a problem.
She should probably…
“Hey, hold up!” Estelle said, even as she ducked under the vine-whip of another dryad. “That was entirely my bad, fellows! Thought all of you were getting in on the fighting business too. Listen, we’ve got no problems with mages, and I’m personally just here to help some kiddos get out, so could you just pack up that fireball?”
She glanced to all directions and noted that there was literally no place at all where she could safely deflect that spell without somehow worsening the overall situation.
“I’ll put a good word in for y’all with GEMINI. Even more so if you escort those highschoo- WAIT, WHY ARE YOU STILL THERE?! LEAVE WITH YOUR FRIENDS, GIRL!”
One of the girls fell.
Finn had been unable to stop Dante, and the backdoors exit was off limits.
Fritzi’s commands sounded in Estelle’s ears. Support was coming, and a call for killing everyone inside sounded as well. The flux of chaos both mundane and monstrous swelled up further.
This was a lot. But she still had to act!
Her Divine Domain alerted her to the movements on the dryads on her flank, but they had cast no spells to root her, so the Witch Hunter advanced outwards instead. Holding her Dai-Katana more like a staff than a sword, the Esper dove inwards towards the mass of drunk bikers, swinging upwards with her Instrument to parry the blow of the one who struck at her with a raised stool. A bell chimed and the ward flashed, before his entire body was knocked upwards by her Strong Parry, his jacket catching on the rotating fans above before he was dislodged and summarily fell towards the dryads behind her. The fan itself crashed moments later, Estelle sliding underneath it as its blades forced the other bikers to back away.
But she wasn’t done yet. There was a clear void now. A diagonal path from where the high schoolers were to where the Dante-approved exit was.
“Take your friend and run!” A switch to comms. “Knight, clear out the entrance, the girls are coming through!”
Two dryads and a mage-biker stood unoccupied, but their hostile intent would no doubt be stoked simply by her emergence from that moshpit of biker and dryad. She didn’t wait for them strike first, instead knocking over the table and chairs in her path to serve as an obstacle for the ones directly behind her, before sprinting towards the mage-biker with a fist full of Sacred Prohibition.
One that would hopefully catch the dryads in its radiant burst as well.
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