Ithradine

Fire Emblem: Crestfallen

Mentions: @PrankFox@Serei2477@ERode@Ambra

---

Roland always enjoyed the stillness and calm before a rainstorm. The muted sky and gentle winds a prelude to a force of nature impossible to precisely predict. A number of his most memorable hikes occurred during a downpour, drenched to the bone and winds cracking trees around him. He hoped, however, they would enter shelter before the first drops fell. It would not do for the Princess's first introduction to the other students and staff to be soaked like a wet dog. Roland had gotten so used to the typical company the Princess carried, that the thought of assessing new individuals and potential threats was almost exciting.

His father had tried to instill in him a faith as strong as his loyalty, but failed frustratingly close to success. Roland was a firm believer in the teachings of the church, but he was far from what one would called a zealot. Goddess or not, he was devout to the Princess first and foremost. That said, the Archbishop was a striking presence that incited a polite, head bow from him in reverence. His authority could match a king so it was no surprise he would have such a direct influence on the future of the land. Roland did his best to stand tall and straight, maintaining a strict bearing as he stood by the Princess's side.

He listened attentively to every word the Archbishop spoke, even if the Princess didn't. It was important he get a grasp of his new surroundings and acclimate to their new lifestyle. Roland had gone through the trouble of parsing through records of the monastery and its academy. There was no guarantee that House Grimdall's enemies wouldn't try anything while the Princess was here. He would not be caught complacent when the worst came to fruition. The announcement of the leader of the rival house drew little reaction from him. Far as he was concerned, Francette was already an adversary for being from a different nation.

Roland was quick to applaud and offer a small smirk to the princess at being assigned leader of their house "Congratulations, your highness." Being in public, he chose to avoid speaking her name in a more friendly manner. One more gift upon the mountains life had already bestowed her. Roland would ensure no one would dethrone her from the position and ensure that all opposition would be crushed. Success as house leader would bring further prestige to the Princess and such it was his mission to make it happen. The absence of their professor did not bring hope that it would be an easy endeavor.

Rather than take in its beauty, Roland observed which windows had a vantage point into the garden. It was bound to be a popular resting and gathering spot, so he would need to analyze every corner for exploitations. Gardening? He would have far more pressing matters like training and protecting the princess. Roland was not sure that the garden would even benefit from the Princess's guardianship. Judging by her whispers to Parthenia, it was not something he would need to consider further.

"I am sure you would like to know, Lord Elias." Roland stated coldly before turning his attention to the other two commoners. He did not know these two and it irritated him that they had addressed the princess so casually without a proper introduction. "Besides, it sounds to me that the Archbishop is more to the liking of you two with such open statements of admiration." Roland spoke more casually this time. It was not often he found himself in the company of commoners being by the Princess's side, thus he did not wish to burn a bridge before it was built.

Fire Emblem: Crestfallen

Roland Amor Vaughann

[Full Name]
Roland Amor Vaughann

[Alias]
N/A

[Affiliation]
Galbia

[Starting Class]
Commoner

​[Status]
Son of Galbia's Royal Guard Commander

[Crest]
None

[Age]
17​

[Date of Birth]
2nd of the Radiant Moon, Imperial Year 763​

[Appearance Information]
Height comes in around 6'2", with a considerable amount of dense muscle weighing in at 205 pounds. His skin tone is fairly tan due to constant time outdoors. Hair is an ashen black color, kept short and tight with slightly longer bangs that is style to the side. Eyes are a distinct, vibrant amethyst color. Uniform is kept proper and well-maintained, with the only deviation being a decorative pin on his right chest.

[Personality]
Roland is an intensely loyal, fiercely skeptical, and extremely disciplined individual. There is nothing he cares for more than the safety of the one he has been charged to protect. With a duty un-ending, Roland views anything that isn't further his skills as a knight to be a waste of time. He views any strangers as a potential threat and questions the motives of everyone he comes across. Roland fulfills any task, no matter how mundane, with purpose and precision until it has been completed. While he can be forced to adapt, he prefers the security of rules, regulations, and traditions over improvising.

Despite his complete dedication to becoming a Royal Guard, Roland is deeply resentful of the fate bestowed upon him. This has tormented his thoughts and has occasionally led him to lash out at others. His tainted resolve pushes him to go beyond what is necessary when dealing with adversaries. There is little his twisted will won't do at the behest of Galbia's royal family.

[Personal History]
Roland was born to Julius Alvar Vaughann, Commander of the Royal Guard of Galbia. The men of the Vaughann family have served under the royal family of Galbia for generations. The moment Roland was born, at the beginning of the Radiant Moon no less, his fate had been decided for him. It was less than a year that the new heir to the kingdom was born and Roland's role decided. His training had started as early as the moment he began to walk. He was taught economics, civics, and a litany of military theories to prepare him to be both a protector and advisor to the young princess. Mistakes and deviance from his given path was met harshly.

The only time he was given any leniency was the time spent with the princess, and it wasn't much. The concept of a childhood was foreign to him, and the older he grew the more he resented the princess for his troubles. Every time his body was pushed to its limit. Every strike made against him from his father. Every day spent training so that the princess could safely live her life. This was all he had so despite the mental discourse, he pursued his fate to the highest degree. The only choice he felt was ever his was when a visiting mage discovered his aptitude for spells. Roland was sent alongside Sherry to the Officer's Academy, to further his own skills but to more importantly watch over the heir to the kingdom.

[Preferred Fighting Style]
Lance

[Equipment]
Training Lance
Vulnerary x 2

[Learned Spells]
Fire

[Interests]

Magic
Mount Riding
Military Tactics
Alchemy

[Likes]

Hiking
Exercising
War Games
Political Theory
Tea
Pastries

[Dislikes]

Sarcasm
Disorganization
Weakness
Being underestimated

Fire Emblem: Crestfallen

Roland Amor Vaughann

[Full Name]
Roland Amor Vaughann

[Alias]
N/A

[Affiliation]
Galbia

[Starting Class]
Commoner

​[Status]
Son of Galbia's Royal Guard Commander

[Crest]
None

[Age]
17​

[Date of Birth]
2nd of the Radiant Moon, Imperial Year 763​

[Appearance Information]
Height comes in around 6'2", with a considerable amount of dense muscle weighing in at 205 pounds. His skin tone is fairly tan due to constant time outdoors. Hair is an ashen black color, kept short and tight with slightly longer bangs that is style to the side. Eyes are a distinct, vibrant amethyst color. Uniform is kept proper and well-maintained, with the only deviation being a decorative pin on his right chest.

[Personality]
Roland is an intensely loyal, fiercely skeptical, and extremely disciplined individual. There is nothing he cares for more than the safety of the one he has been charged to protect. With a duty un-ending, Roland views anything that isn't further his skills as a knight to be a waste of time. He views any strangers as a potential threat and questions the motives of everyone he comes across. Roland fulfills any task, no matter how mundane, with purpose and precision until it has been completed. While he can be forced to adapt, he prefers the security of rules, regulations, and traditions over improvising.

Despite his complete dedication to becoming a Royal Guard, Roland is deeply resentful of the fate bestowed upon him. This has tormented his thoughts and has occasionally led him to lash out at others. His tainted resolve pushes him to go beyond what is necessary when dealing with adversaries. There is little his twisted will won't do at the behest of Galbia's royal family.

[Personal History]
Roland was born to Julius Alvar Vaughann, Commander of the Royal Guard of Galbia. The men of the Vaughann family have served under the royal family of Galbia for generations. The moment Roland was born, at the beginning of the Radiant Moon no less, his fate had been decided for him. It was less than a year that the new heir to the kingdom was born and Roland's role decided. His training had started as early as the moment he began to walk. He was taught economics, civics, and a litany of military theories to prepare him to be both a protector and advisor to the young princess. Mistakes and deviance from his given path was met harshly.

The only time he was given any leniency was the time spent with the princess, and it wasn't much. The concept of a childhood was foreign to him, and the older he grew the more he resented the princess for his troubles. Every time his body was pushed to its limit. Every strike made against him from his father. Every day spent training so that the princess could safely live her life. This was all he had so despite the mental discourse, he pursued his fate to the highest degree. The only choice he felt was ever his was when a visiting mage discovered his aptitude for spells. Roland was sent alongside Sherry to the Officer's Academy, to further his own skills but to more importantly watch over the heir to the kingdom.

[Preferred Fighting Style]
Lance

[Equipment]
Training Lance
Vulnerary x 2

[Learned Spells]
Fire

[Interests]

Magic
Mount Riding
Military Tactics
Alchemy

[Likes]

Hiking
Exercising
War Games
Political Theory
Tea
Pastries

[Dislikes]

Sarcasm
Disorganization
Weakness
Being underestimated

Alright, he's done...I think.

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Location: Balmung Castle | Castle Grounds

Mentions: N/A

---

Arton quickly turned to Neve while Galahad spoke, desperately trying to maintain his composure in the face of the growing chaos "Neve, let's see if anyone could you use your help. I'll make sure you don't get..." His gaze briefly flicked to the stand-off "...interrupted.". He placed a hand on her shoulder from behind with a gentle push in case the situation had made her freeze up. If a brawl was to break out, it'd be bad if the healer of their group got caught up in it. At this point, he doubt throwing his own voice and weight around would do any good.

It had astonished him how quickly Ranbu had jumped to the aid of Neve. Her methods might have been questionable but there was no denying her instincts and reactions were beyond words. Truth be told, if she hadn't moved first then Arton would have placed himself between Neve and the aggressive man. He didn't agree taking it to the degree she did, but he also respected the quick decision to defend a comrade. It was more of surprise that Zeidgram decided to join her in escalation, going so far as to strike one of the Skaellans and confirmed one of his theories about the man.

"I'm sure Galahad can smooth things over...I mean, I hope so." Arton tried to reassure Neve, but he was quite uncertain himself what was about to unfold. It was a chance, perhaps subconsciously, to distance himself from his countrymen. He never felt at ease with them "So, I'm not too bad at first-aid if you need me to help." Arton tried to offer. He was hesitant to help Galahad mediate the situation, not due to his incapability to do so but for the backlash it might incite. He was the humble, stalwart swordsman Arton and that was he had to be.

Fire Emblem: Crestfallen

I should be able to write up a character tomorrow.

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Location: Balmung Castle | Hallway

Mentions: N/A

---

Arton, now properly equipped in layers of armor, took position on the party's flank. His eyes flicked from corner to corner, door to door, anticipating an enemy to appear at any moment. The focus kept him distracted from anything else...save for the conversation the Valheimian's yelling brought to his attention. The tone of Ranbu's voice were enough of a hint as to what was coming. The thud of her boot across his face hit his ears before he had turned around. Virulent hatred laced every one of her words. It was not ignorant, mindless rage but a directed, powerful anger earned from trauma. His brows furrowed and lips curled as the man's life was ended, executed like an animal. It was one matter to take down an opponent in combat, but to end someone you had disarmed and taken prisoner?

"That's the plan? Slaughter to the last man without exception?" No attempt to hide his irritation was made. Zeidgram, expectedly, was quick to chime in and put his own thoughts into words better than Arton could. He gritted his teeth, grip tightening on his shield. Valheim was still the enemy in this situation. Nothing would come of getting into an struggle with his own ally. Arton, however, would remember this "Leifur's right, there are others who need our help." Arton glanced over at Galahad trying to gauge his reaction, before deciding to follow Leifur wherever he was going.

Peace. Was it such a distant reality? How much more did he have to lose before he could grasp a sliver of it? Proof that it could even be possible. Arton was determined to fight for it and save as many as he could along the way "Furi...." He spoke under his breath. Wherever she was, maybe just maybe this journey would be enough to pay her back.

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Location: Balmung Castle | Hallway

Mentions:@Ambra@vietmyke@Lucky@Dezuel

---

Arton retrieved his sword from the Valheimian's now lifeless body, crimson blood splattered along his forearm. He turned his head to side as he felt a warmth suddenly get closer. The Sollan nearly jumped at the creature that was busy pummeling a soldier with fists of flame and fury. The screams uttered by its victim was enough to be glad it was on their side and a reminder not to anger his Vieran roommate. Foolishly, he had let the goblin-creature distract him and didn't catch one of the last attackers aiming their weapon towards them. Adrenaline shot through his veins as he hastily tried to raise his shield in time, but the shots rang out first. He blinked and in that time Neve had cast a barrier over them. He looked back at Neve for a brief moment after she expelled the rest from the room, giving a small, curt nod of thanks "Thanks to you.. After fully rising to his feet, Arton took a look at the rest of their attackers and then his comrades "Right. I'm sure they're fine but we group together.". They were victorious in this instance but it was going to be a long, long night.

Arton entered the Hallway alongside Galahad, ready to cover his flank if the hall were flooded with more foes. A bright smile flashed on his face followed soon by an strained laugh as they ran into the boisterous red-mage from earlier "I, uh, take it the rest of them with you are alright?" This was certainly going to be an on-going thing between them, wasn't it? He was hard-pressed to call it a 'battle' of wits but he couldn't find more accurate words at the moment "You're right, I'll be right back." Arton replied to Galahad before heading back into the room. He had most of the under-layers of his armor equipped already so it was a quick and simple task to put the rest on. This was the first time Arton had to fight with proper soldiers and he wondered if training and ability would be enough in lieu of real experience.

The Sollan emerged from their room once more, fully equipped in armor boasting a mixture of hard and soft plating "Well, I know at least ONE person that is enjoying themselves right now." He wasn't exactly sure if Ranbu could have 'fun', but judging by her earlier tone towards Valheim this was probably close. His head turned to gaze down one end of the hall and then the other "What do we do now? Gather our forces and then?" He was out of his element completely. The last time he was in this kind of situation...well he figured Galahad would understand what to do.

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Location: Balmung Castle | Guest Bedrooom 1

Mentions:@Ambra@vietmyke@Lucky

---

Arton sat back after his own introduction, eager to to put names to the faces around the table. The first to speak up definitely made his eyes go wide as even he had heard rumors about the two from the villages he helped. Ranbu's temper seemed to wax and wane with every so-called wasted moment she was here, while Galahad appeared to have a more level-headed approach to all of this. The only feature that seemed to connect the two was their prowess for battle. Arton sincerely hoped that the presence of a common goal would deter hostilities between the two long enough to figure out what was going on. The Faye would was making a scene also introduced himself, perhaps as a way to deflect his failure. They seemed to be a fine person, if not easily spooked and twitchy.

Next to speak was a Viera that had caught his eye earlier amidst the table. Her speech was refined like Galahad's but in a more technical sense, which he supposed was evident by the tablet that she kept by her side. Arton would be the first to admit he was far from tech-savvy so he was relieved there was someone on the team who could handle that. A second Viera by the name of Leifur, the victim of the butter-blunder, spoke after Arbora. It would seem they would have a considerable front-line of fighters looking around the table. The rest of the able soon followed, a party from parts all across the continent.

Arton had rushed towards the corner with his weapons the moment they entered the room. He wasted no time examining his sword for any nicks or scratches that may have come from mishandling it. The same, meticulous process was conducted with his shield as well with relief washing over him that they lacked damage. His arms were designed for heavy use but having them anything less than polished and pristine felt like a disservice to his master. He retrieved the rest of his gear and situated it next to one of the beds closest to the door. Arton rooted through his pack while Neve looked over the city and gritted his teeth as he pulled out two empty potion bottles. He had forgotten to get them refilled on his way here.

Realization struck his features as Neve came back into the room. He and Galahad had been set up in the same room as Arbora and Neve, two girls. His eyes quickly darted over to Galahad for his reaction, a small pressure rising in his chest. A loud noise interrupted the rising anxiety within him. What had been a look of discomfort quickly turned into expression of readiness. Arton returned the nod to Galahad and quickly picked up his sword and shield he'd left by the bedside. This was exactly why he always had some kind of armor on. As the sounds of footsteps drew closer to their room, Arton glanced first to Neve and then Arbora. Neither were close-ranger fighters so it would be up to him and Galahad to keep whatever it was back.

His muscles tightened the moment Neve opened the door and the smell burst into the room. Arton kept his gaze trained on the door as he reached off to his side and gripped the staff with his free hand. He moved up closer to the door, handing Neve her weapon while he placed himself in front of her. Arton slid his sword from its scabbard and placed the sword just over the top brim of the shield, lowering his stance ready for a burst of moment. His eyes caught the enemy just after Galahad "Right behind you!" The young Sollan exclaimed, pushing forward as Galahad made the opening move. Arton slammed into an attacker on the far right that had been unbalanced by the dragoon's swing, shield-first. Most of his experience was against bandits and monsters, not trained soldiers, but that wouldn't deter him. He pulled his sword back behind the shield and thrusted it underneath into a gap in the armor. Whoever they were, they would regret every choice that had brought them here.

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Location: Balmung Castle | Banquet Hall

Mentions:@Dezuel@Psyker Landshark@vietmyke

---

It became quite evident to Arton that he would find no trouble fitting in with this group. With this colorful cast, he would find no trouble remaining under the radar...at least for now. The background of a travelling adventurer was simple enough for your average commoner not to pry any further. It would suffice for their first interactions but he would need to construct a better history for himself or find a way to avoid investigations into his person. The past needed to remain buried deep in the frozen ground of Skael. That was why he was most cautious about the Sollan woman sitting at the table that had taken their time to get involved into the overall conversation.

"Try telling him that." Arton replied cheerfully to Galahad, gesturing loosely with his fork towards Zeidgram.

The man's response to his apparent challenge suggested a noble lineage, not wishing to discredit the other while refraining from indulging him any further. Thoughtful and precise. Arton snatched a baked potato from the vast assortment, unable to resist the temptation of one of his favorites. He half-listened to Galahad as he went about adorning the baked spud with the perfect amount of accessories. Did he lack ambition? It was a question that had been daunting him for too long. Perhaps he was far too eager to throw himself headfirst into a problem that would take time to solve. Mirth brimmed in his eyes at the first bite of the decorated potato, cheeks rising in delight.

"I just like to speak my mind." He said amused but it was clear to him she was not.

While her outburst surely caught the attention of other guests, Arton was happy and content to continue eating what he had already gathered on his plate. Overthinking every detail would be so easy which is why he was going to enjoy this meal amongst friendly strangers. Be present in the moment, not trapped in the past. Wise words from his master that helped him keep his focus. That was the idea at least. It was a constant tug of war to keep himself in the moment and he was never far from the pit. While a few at the table handled an apparent crisis of butter, Arton finished his plate as the King rose to speak at last.

Arton felt a lump in his throat that made him grateful he was not in the middle of drinking. He soon recovered and beamed brightly at the King's proclamation "Hear, Hear!" It was the first time he projected his voice amidst the party but he was not alone in the hall. The dark-haired Sollan leaned back in his chair, lips still curved into a excited smile as he looked up and down the table. The number of tables for the champions matched the number of teams. It seemed these were the people his shield would protect. He felt eager. Excited. Anxious. Guilty.

He refilled his cup while he listened to the young Sollan woman "Haven't the faintest clue. I'm sure we'll find a lead. It might help to know each other's name so I'll go first. Name's Arton. Pleasure to meet all of ya." His voice carried across the table.

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Location: Balmung Castle | Banquet Hall

Mentions: @Dezuel

---

Arton's gaze flicked from wall to wall as he entered the Banquet Hall after one of the guards let him in after a bit of hassle. It was his first time at an event such like this and no amount of imagination could have prepared him for grandiose it all was. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he took in the myriad of delicious aromas. The very atmosphere itself felt charged with an energy he found difficult to describe as he wandered further and further in. The luxury of it all was enough to overwhelm the senses and make it feel as though he had walked into a whole other world and, in a sense, he might as well have. This place was to be the start of his greatest adventure it seemed.

His amazement quickly surrendered to trepidation as he was seated a table with other guests, all looking like they were here for the same reason he was. Arton was quick to arrange himself a plate of mostly meat, picking from a variety of creatures he hadn't had the chance to taste. Nothing ventured, nothing gained after all. He wasn't sure if the food was really this good or if he was just hungry. His hand reached out for a drink from the same group as a girl siting across from him. As it reached his lips, Arton paused and looked almost longingly into the cup. The laughter, the aroma of food, the warm smiles that sat next to him...it began to remind him of home. The rim of the mug touched his lips and he downed a good portion of the mead, laughing inside his head at the weakness of the drink compared to the shine the last village made.

Arton steeled himself for an introduction to those around him before nostalgia took him away from the moment. Before he could do so, a man at his table signaled for attention from all the other guests. He watched with interest from the comfort of his seat, the grand speech lessening his nervousness "Are we all going to have to make a toast? Arton spoke soft enough not to undermine the one speaking, but to no one in particular. His skills on interacting with people of higher stature had gotten rusty after years working with the common-folk. Luckily, the attention was immediately drawn to another at their table that went by the name of Lord Caradoc. It was a name he was sure he had heard before.

All this indulgence was almost enough to forget the real struggle out there. The man's words were a sharp reminder of why everyone was actually here "Truth be told, I just want to hear what we came here for and start moving. There's people out there I know are waiting for us to do something." Arton said with a murmur of anxiousness. He mentally chatised himself for forgetting the people he had helped these years now living in fear due to this blight.