HokumPocus

The Five Senses

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Despite his recent developments in trusting others, teamwork was still something that got a raised eyebrow out of Octavio and not much else. This latest skirmish proved to be effective in nudging his mind once more though, as the guards were dispatched with a level of grace he didn't think multiple people could exhibit. The urge to congratulate everyone burst with the slamming of the door that stood between them and more opponents, if the noises were anything to go by.

Supposed to be grateful for the little things in life, he thought. He saw several of his party members rush towards the room to handle things with none of the stealth they were embodying before and opted to continue his foray elsewhere. Being in an enclosed space with multiple people talented in magic was never a good idea.

He quickly settled on one of his usual tactics for infiltration, one in which illusions would monitor an unknown area and alert him in the case of danger, like watchdogs that could double as either assassins or bait depending on who or what they stumbled on. Of course, he realized there was little point in graceful silence at this point, so he ran rather than skulked along, with his eyes set to the south. His standard illusion would maintain a consistent distance from him and ahead of him, and his poorly summoned one would stand guard outside the room until a better use for it came up.

It felt as if only a few brief moments had passed before it was all ruined. At hearing Chres shout, he whipped his neck just in time to see his party members on the receiving end of a magic attack, with his poorly made illusion sent sprawling. It hit him too, toppling his balance with surprising strength. With a groan he let the injured illusion unravel, as the combined injuries of the blast and their first fight had rendered it useless.

"You were never my favorite, anyway," he remarked. Little things, little things, all about the little things. The positive side to this, he was forcing himself to think, was that at least they now knew one of their opponents used tempraision magic. The negative side to this, he thought a second time, was that one of their opponents used tempraision magic.

Octavio stood and flourished a throwing knife alongside his remaining illusion, who rushed to his aid. Between the magic user and another guard, the two stood on edge as the rest of their party members got their bearings. "They've got magic and knowledge of our presence is due to start circulating like ballroom gossip. I think it would be a great idea if we all just started running, doesn't everyone agree?" To accentuate his point, his remaining illusion gave a thumbs up.

Eɴᴛᴇʀ — Into an Isekai World

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Kotana

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Kaito chuckled with a stiff edge to his voice. Hiroko was obviously joking, but having to eat strange things was a thought that encroached his mind and stayed there, as it just made too much sense. On the bright side, eating something foul would potentially be the simplest way of testing the talisman's power. Not that he was enthusiastic about it.

"I just didn't think it would've been helpful to think of this as a video game," he answered. The adult in him wanted to scold her over treating a life or death situation like something comparable to video games, but she was right. He'd never considered himself to be a stubborn man, yet it took a surprising amount of difficulty to speak. "Though I guess common sense would have led one to the same conclusion." He averted her eyes.

Their meal was delightfully simple. What would've no doubt been a miserable dining experience just twenty-four hours ago was now unmatched in terms of taste and nourishment.

"Odd jobs, something like hard labor?" he asked in between bites. None of them looked suited to that line of work, and he failed to think of anything else such an underdeveloped world would want. Unless...

"Or fighting. With our new abilites." The words hung in the air.

The Five Senses

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Octavio and his two illusions streaked through the ground like rabid dogs, making only the faintest traces of noise as they ran into the heat of battle. His second illusion, the one he had failed to give a complete form to, tailed its two allies, its features warped and its clothing lacking any of the finer details of its brethren. It was similar in appearance, albeit with features that could have been called distorted. It looked as if a foggy reflection were in motion.

The descent of his group onto their target was similar to the way pack animals ambushed and tore their prey apart. There was no definitive, single blow that signalled a beginning or end to their attack, rather an onslaught of flourished daggers against armor, probing one after the other in a frenzied hunt for bare skin. The second illusion had taken a supporting role, its weapon smudged and crude yet blunt enough to refuse being ignored. It fought harder than the rest, aiming for strikes to the head and legs, displaying no hesitation in hurting itself for the sake of hurting another. It hit the floor frequently, scrabbling and clawing its way up using whatever warm body was available, bruises spreading to every inch of its smudged shape in dark streaks.

The element of surprise was all a rogue needed to transform from a lowly scavenger into a far bigger menace as Heb would witness with his ally. Six pairs of lifeless eyes stared back at the other guard, three daggers each. A pair of throwing knives littered the ground around them in a smear of red and silver, like the metal bones of an animal they had devoured. A fight this unfair was when he was strongest, although Octavio took no pleasure in killing, so much so that it bled through into his illusions. It only took a stiff movement of the arm to break their hesitation, however, as the strongest of the two withdrew a stiletto knife and plunged it through sinew and flesh.

Clinging to the awareness of all his illusions amidst the sharp scent of blood and the plumes of dust that rose in the distance, it was hard for him to register what the pause in the remaining guard's movements meant. A change of plans now that he had three more opponents to deal with? Was he going to resume attacking Chres? Was it fear? Octavio couldn't quite tell through the haze of adrenaline and sensory information. He crouched and retrieved a throwing knife, which had missed its marked yet ended up splattered regardless.

"Surrounded by enemies, all by yourself," he uttered.

Eɴᴛᴇʀ — Into an Isekai World

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Kotana

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"Honami's game logic is right?" exclaimed Kaito, doing nothing to hide the dismay in his voice or the widening of his eyes and eyebrows. As if agreeing with him, his stomach gently protested at the mention of food. During a typical day of work it wasn´t uncommon for him to forget to eat. This wasn't a typical day of work.

His worries continued, focusing on the talisman of sacred wood that was now under his possession.

"I'm not sure what being a pure soul means in this context.", he mumbled.

Pure as in good? He liked to think of himself as a good person. Following the rules, never upsetting the status quo, obeying authority. Unless it meant purity in the context of being a virginal maiden, in which case he doubtlessly qualified. Women didn't like men who were more afraid of the spider in the bathroom than they were.

He had reached civilization at last and even got invited to eat, but for Kaito it felt like his troubles were only just beginning.

Eɴᴛᴇʀ — Into an Isekai World

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Kotana

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An ethereal light flickered across Kaito's vision as he once again found himself learning a spell. Or at least, learning it in such a way that it felt like recalling something that had been on the tip of his tongue. He was quicker to adjust to the newfound information this time around, accepting its presence with none of the bewilderment as before. There was still a sense of hesitation to him however, as he mimicked the movements of his impromptu mentor with a notable stiltedness.

Among the patchwork assortment of charms only a pair stood out to him. Fearful he wasn't concentrating hard enough to detect others, his eyes roamed the stall multiple times in search of outliers.

Only those two had true magic to them, it seemed.

"You know in my former job, I learned a lot about the importance of possessions and what they can mean," he half-mumbled, "the way they can ground us emotionally." It was hard to flesh out the details with someone unfamiliar with psychology and seemingly disinterested in it, but he knew particularly of victims of post-traumatic stress disorder being prescribed things like stuffed animals to calm down. It was an extreme example, but this was an extreme world, where the idea of facing off against something more monstrous than a band of goblins was entirely possible. The ever fearful Kaito wasn't just taking combat potential into consideration, but what something could do to help him recover afterwards as well.

He approached the stall and wrapped his slender fingers around the talisman rather than the ring. "This... object is beautiful."

The Five Senses

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Octavio warped the features of an illusion of himself, starting with more practical adjustments such as adjusting the locations in which its many, many knives were kept to ruffling its hair to just the right amount. It was all in the details.

"Ehh," he groaned, an answer to Chres' question in of itself. "The problem with illusions is that it's far too easy to spread yourself thin and end up making a mess." He continued to make small changes to the figure, with care but none of the warmth the word implied. It was less like watching a person dress another one up and more like watching a sculptor working under a time limit. "But on the other hand, my newest acquisitions are working well enough for me to go that far." He didn't go into detail, assuming his illusion sheltering them provided enough of an explanation.

He had made the decision to purchase a disorganized mess of accessories meant for illusion magic. Some of them were from skeevier sources than others, and he still wasn't sure which ones were the ones working at the moment, but he felt their power easing his mind. When it came to illusions, it was less about being able to store large quantities of energy and more about having the stamina to create them both consistently and competently. The tangle of amulets under his clothing and rings under his gloves served to provide him with a sort of support system that relieved him of the discomfort he'd usually feel. A support system he wasn't going to think too hard about. Like the plan involving the familiars.

I can trust Syl. I can trust Syl. I can trust Sy-

A warcry rose above the rest for a second, snapping him out of his focused state.

"I think I can start on another one of... me, provided things don't crash and burn beforehand."

His previous self would have referred to them with a lot more flair, but it didn't feel appropriate anymore. The word illusion would be good enough, he supposed.

"Dividing the attention would work. If it's a numbers game, then that reduces their advantage over us," he told Týfurkh, pausing his efforts for a moment. "But you're right. It's not an elegant idea. They could catch wind of us pretty fast."

Eɴᴛᴇʀ — Into an Isekai World

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Kotana

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Kaito traipsed between the shops and stands, panic gripping and crushing any serenity the picturesque village had given him. The cool dusk air, the bare ground and the stars seemed more powerful, raw even, compared to his former world. It made him feel even more withdrawn. The villagers seemed to have noticed, as they exchanged glances with him more than anyone else. It felt wrong, trying to pass himself off as one of them. Still, he knew this was the best course of action before getting anything resembling answers. It was foolish to expect an encounter or some discovery that could explain what happened, but it had also been foolish to entertain the idea of another world in the first place, so he let it fester in his mind.

His eyes fell on a pair of teenagers whispering to each other. Something about the way they stood intimidated him, as if a life of hard labor had molded them into being more mature than he was. He realized they had begun leering at him, so he quickly rejoined Ipharia.

“…So the others are going to look at weapons, I suppose but…” his eyes rested on charms being sold by a nearby stall, “Does similar equipment exist for a person who uses magic?”

The Voyagers of Duonia: A Medieval Fantasy RP

Ludith

_{“You have to find out how thick the tracks are first. Lets you know which knife to use.”}

_______________________________________________ Ludith Harague _______________________________________________________________ 33 | Female | Human _______________________________________________________________ Chaotic Good | Rogue | Slayer _______________________________________________________________ [+] ▼ A T T R I B U T E S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► Warrior mindset - Pain is temporary. Blood coagulates. If you can't walk, crawl. Ludith is capable of stomaching through the macabre, so much so that the line between her and the beasts she hunts blurs with the approaching night. ► Cryptozoology - Experience in observation and physical combat with monsters has led her to develop an understanding for them that surpasses what rumors and faded journals are able to provide. ► Improvisation - One who hunts monsters needs to adapt as much as possible to their target, never getting too comfortable with any one weapon. Ludith mainly fights with a short sword and knives, but she's not above settling for anything she can get her hands on and swinging like a madwoman, with a level of strength that only desperation and hatred can produce. ► Courage - Ludith's willingness to fight extends beyond the slashing of a blade. She's not the sort of person to back down from harrowing odds, or bite her tongue if things don't seem right. Within physical combat, the various abnormalities of beasts will fail to faze her to same degree they would another. ► Good aim - As the sort of adventurer to be classified as a rogue, Ludith fights using melee weapons. She does, however, excel at throwing the occasional knife or improvised projectile if necessity demands it. - [+] ▼ I N V E N T O R Y ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► Armor - Aside from the battered cuirass that's often the sole thing keeping her heart from being rabidly clawed out in front of her, Ludith's armor is leather above all else. Unlike most hunters the idea of adorning herself with parts of her kills repulses her, so it's fairly plain in appearance. ► Weapons - A short sword made of silver stolen from the vault of a great church. Rumors said it once belonged to a revered warrior of light, but she pays no mind to them. Several knives and a vial of poison meant for the more bestial monsters are hidden among flaps of cloth and leather. ► Coinpurse - Unimpressive and very ugly, its contents don't seem to fit with their container or their owner. The depths villagers are willing to go to for protection keep her fed, at least. ► Misc. Items - Ludith saves objects that once belonged to humans to bury them later. It's wise to preemptively put a soul to rest before even more abominations are birthed. Things like dolls or children's toys cause her a particular pain, no matter how many times she's had to safely dispose of them. -

P E R S O N A L C H A R A C T E R Ludith's upbringing at the outskirts of her hometown was a quiet affair. Life seemed to flow by as the years turned her from a little girl who needed a wooden stool to reach the cupboards to a woman who knew her way around a sword. Marriage, too, seemed to happen without any troubles, and before she knew it her and her husband welcomed their daughter into the world. It was perhaps then that seeing them torn apart by werewolves was what finally woke her up from her slumber. Now she's restless, eager to track down and kill what roams in the shadows, with or without anyone else's permission. No sleep, no peace. The nightmare never ends. Ludith is a woman led by her impulses who finds regulations stifling. She feels more at home armed to the teeth in the forests than at any tavern and will throw herself into danger if it means culling the vile creatures that prowl at night. This has led her to become vigilant, though to a degree that can be detrimental. Survival is her priority above else, with no care for whatever bodily fluids stain her leather armor or how much spitting and kicking she needs to do to come out a victor in her battles. She disregards anything directly unrelated to combat including the complexities of politics and magic. She'll reach out to assist anyone she's fighting with, but with the expectation that they return the favor down the line. For her, it's better to focus on her own talents than try to understand anyone else's. Unless they're an enemy. Despite the rough edges to her personality, she is notably kind towards children, being understanding towards them and fighting like an animal when their lives are on the line. F A V O R Had it not been for that strange merchant intervening on the day she was caught stealing weapons from barracks, Ludith has no doubt that her head would have been rotting on a pole. The concept of being indebted to another, especially some merchant of which she knows so little about has put her on edge somewhat. She can only hope whatever is asked of her won't lead to a grisly end.

The Voyagers of Duonia: A Medieval Fantasy RP

Salivating over playing a warrior rn....

EDIT: my idea can work as a rogue, probably doing that for party balance

The Five Senses

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Once he had gotten accustomed to the texture of high quality fabric, it was hard to go back to more common garments. He wasn't about to let anyone know that, of course, as he was sure this band of hardened warriors he was stuck with wasn't going to be sympathetic to his shirt being itchy. Still, every article of clothing had its uses. Pieces could be removed and replaced with more attainable ones to aim for a more humble image, and the opposite was true as well.

Octavio stared at the man in the mirror, and the man stared back with a lot less charm than ever before. His pleasing features had hardened in dozens of subtle ways he couldn't put to words. If he kept the pace of his current life, how would he look like in just a few more months? A year? It bothered him a lot less than he thought it would, and he wasn't sure what to make of that.

He wordlessly slid in and out of various garments, dissatisfied every time. At last, he reached for his trousers. They looked as if they'd been tossed around, and he wasn't the sort of person who treated his possessions like that. It was the sort of detail one wouldn't pay attention to outside of hindsight. With a groan aimed at nothing, he slid them on.

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Years of experience in being as stealthy as possible collided head-on with the grim realization that there were insects interspersed throughout the entire bottom half of his body. The shriek that left him did so through clenched teeth, before being accompanied by line after line of language that could not be described morally or tastefully.

"Lyyyyyyyyyyyyynx!!!!!!!!!!!"

"Where are you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

There were many situations Octavio had prepared himself for after being coerced into fighting for the greater good. Finding spiders in his pants had not been one of them.