JJ Doe

Ravenloft, The Curse of Strahd.

Hiya everyone!

As described in Olo’s CS, Olo looks like a child and is not a skilled adventurer by any means. Because of that I think it is highly unlikely that he was asked to help with the Barovian problem in the first place and maybe was even discouraged from participating in this whole thing. He, being the wannabe-adventurer that he is, will still try to join a group.

How he joins this party would depend on whether he already knows one (or more?) of the player characters or not. Olo has been part of many adventuring groups and organizations over the past ten plus years, so it wouldn’t be inconceivable if he met anyone who was part of an adventuring group or organization.

If he met none of the characters previously, I was thinking of having Olo just stalk the first adventuring party he saw. That or perhaps it was pure coincidence that he bumps into the group while traveling. Maybe even a combination of both? He could have been with a different group initially, but then they either (a.) got killed or (b.) left Olo behind when monsters overwhelmed them and Olo was just lucky to survive long enough to meet this party?

I’m open to suggestions!

Ravenloft, The Curse of Strahd.

Olo Dudley

“I’m not a child!”

Name(s):

Olo Dudley

Age:

31 (Though he looks more like a child than an adult)

Gender:

Male

Race:

Halfling

Appearance:

Despite entering adulthood years ago, Olo does not look like he had ever experienced puberty. Everything about him is neotenous, even by halfling standards: he is shorter than the average (adult) female halfling, he has a large round head, big honey flower eyes, a button nose, full lips, pinchable rosy cheeks, and baby fat that refuses to disappear from any part of his body. In fact, the only part of his body that does not look exclusively like a child is his curly hazelnut hair and even that is as soft and wild as baby hair. He dreams of gaining the ability to grow facial and chest hair, but it is unlikely they will come true in this lifetime.

Personality:

A gregarious person at heart, Olo loves socializing. He is not afraid of interacting with others and he will make the effort to know the other person or group of people. Not that it means Olo is skilled in the art of socializing: he has embarrassed himself and others (even annoyed them) on numerous occasions, but those incidents simply didn’t deter him from being garrulous. He has always been stubborn like that. He hates giving up. Optimistic to a fault some say.

Like many other halflings, Olo has a curious mind and is sympathetic to others in need. Traits which have landed Olo in some trouble in the past. He doesn’t mind being roped into trouble, surprisingly enough. Even if he did get mad about it at the time, he wasn’t and still isn’t capable of staying mad for long. That’s why he couldn’t become a barbarian after all.

Olo can become overly enthusiastic about things to the point that he over glamorizes them and fails to critically think. No matter how many years passes, Olo seems to be the same starry-eyed boy. It is, however, thanks to this enthusiasm that allowed Olo to acquire random obscure knowledge that few people know or people generally have no interest in.

Class/Skills

Olo is best described as a bard, but almost solely because he needs to use his instrument if he wants to be of any use during combat. Without it, his ineptitude shines through. In the ten-odd years he spent trying to find what he was actually good at, Olo found out that he: didn’t possess the strength or constitution to be a close-ranged combatant; could reliably never hit the intended target with a long-ranged weapon; lacked finesse of any sort; was too dumb to be a wizard; too impulsive to be anything that relied on discipline; and, as much as he appreciated nature, he could never live out in the wild for extended periods of time. Then what can he do?

After taking a magic aptitude test Olo found out that he did have some affinity towards magic albeit in a very limited fashion. The only way that Olo can cast magic is by creating music (with the intent of casting magic). He usually accomplishes this by playing an instrument, which can technically be anything as long as the noise it makes is interpreted as music to the listener. Due to the nature of the spellcasting, Olo’s magic relies on the target’s ability to detect sounds. Depending on the severity of the condition, it is possible for someone who is hearing impaired to be affected by Olo’s magic via sound vibrations, however, if they do feel the sound they must be able to interpret the vibrations as music. In fact, regardless of the individual’s ability to detect sounds, for Olo’s magic to have any effect on the individual, they must interpret the noise that Olo makes as music. For example, Olo’s magic doesn’t affect his animal companion, Dorothea, because she only hears noises and not music when Olo plays his instrument.

Although the instrument he uses dictates his mobility, the complexity of the spell itself or whether Olo is trying to maintain more than one spell at a time can also determine whether he can move around. Olo’s spells tend to take a lot of concentration, as such, it is not uncommon for him to be vulnerable to enemy attacks. Dorothea has managed to keep Olo relatively safe during these situations in the past, but that does not mean she can do so in the future.

It should be noted that no matter how long the spell was supposed to last, it will end the second Olo stops playing his instrument. It has also been strongly advised by his former mentors that Olo shouldn’t keep playing (casting magic) for long periods of time. The longer Olo plays during one session, there is an increased risk of his mind going mad, his magic getting out of hand, and him becoming comatose. The combination of magic’s law of exchange and general fatigue from performing wears Olo out faster than the more competent spellcasters.

Lastly, the spells Olo casts don't work on himself, it works only on his audience. At the present time, Olo knows some minor buff and debuff spells. He may be able to learn more spells, but only time will tell.

Outside of battle, Olo’s most useful skill is cooking.

Equipment:

• Backpack containing a bedroll, clothes, a mess kit, a tinderbox, rope, rations, a waterskin, and some personal hygiene items: The essentials for any adventurer.
• Coin purse with a few coins: Too little in fact. Olo’s going to need to make some money soon.
• Diary: Olo started writing his adventures in it, as proof that he did do something with his life.
• Handaxe: From his fighter apprentice days. Olo couldn’t swing around any of the other weapons because they were much too heavy for him. It is usually used to chop wood and not heads or limbs.
• Hand crossbow and ammunition: From his ranger apprentice days. Much to Olo’s dismay, it takes strength to pull back a bow, lift a crossbow, and reload a crossbow so he had to use the hand crossbow. Not that it mattered, he couldn’t aim properly anyways. Thank goodness he got to keep Dorothea.
• Hurdy gurdy: The only weapon Olo can actually use. It can also help him make money on the streets!
• Leather armor: Olo would probably collapse from exhaustion if he wore anything heavier.
• Lockpicks: From his rogue apprentice days. Olo is still practicing how to use them, to no avail.
• Animal Companion: Dorothea (who also responds to Dot and Dorothy), the panther, is arguably the only reason why Olo survived as an adventurer thus far.

History:

As long as he could remember, Olo felt the intense feeling of wanderlust. Perhaps it was because he was raised in a tavern where travelers would regale Olo with tales from faraway lands or boast about their most recent adventures. The stories, true or not, enthralled Olo. Not a day passed by when he did not wish to see the world beyond his hometown and take part in an adventure of his own. He dreamed a lot but never acted.

As years crawled by ---call to the road unanswered--- Olo became increasingly restless and unsatisfied. He felt guilty for feeling that way too: he was born to a loving family, who had enough money to take care of the ridiculously large family (Olo never understood why his parents wanted to have 14 children, but they did and they swear none of them were by accident), in a close-knit community that never knew of strife, pestilence, or famine. Olo knew he was more fortunate than many others in the world; he knew that he should be grateful, and he was grateful… just not happy. It got harder to convince himself to stay home each year. One day ---his birthday--- Olo decided that he was going to finally leave. He told his family and they made sure that he knew that they thought it was a god-awful idea. No Dudley has ever left their town ever since their great-great-great-grandparents settled in. But more importantly, Olo was just incompetent: his kind only managed to survive because others took care of them. Olo knew this and that’s why he had to leave. So he did, that very evening, in the dead of night. Only to be kidnapped by bandits a few hours later. Fortunately for Olo, he was rescued by a group of adventurers before he was sold into slavery.

For the next ten plus years, Olo would find himself hopping from one organization, big or small, to another. The reason for him not being able to stick to one group varied, but it ultimately boiled down to one of five things: (a.) he managed to botch something so bad that he was no longer welcome to the group; (b.) he lacked the skill(s) necessary and was unable improve no matter how much he trained or studied; (c.) the group wanted something from Olo that he could not give; (d.) he was too loud; or (e.) all of the above. Olo is currently trying to find another group to tag along with for his next grand adventure.

The Divine

Kythaela Wyvernhide

~A few days after Ariella’s capture~

The half-elf stood frozen in the middle of the throne room, absolutely gobsmacked. She, Kythaela Wyvernhide, serving the Goddess’s reincarnate? An insignificant peasant from some backwater village, personally caring for the Goddess Aurelia? This had to be a dream. Kythaela would have slapped herself across the face with all her might to check if she was not in the presence of Emperor Ulric Blackwood and a small audience. So she waited, just for a moment or two, to see if she would wake up, or if someone would reveal that they were only playing a prank on the gullible woman. But when neither happened, her hands shot up towards her mouth, failing to stop Kythaela’s soft gasp from escaping her lips.

Words could not possibly describe how honored she felt. She had never been more proud of herself: she was chosen to do something special. It was a warm feeling that gradually turned cold as the exact words the Emperor uttered reached Kythaela’s frontal lobe. A scapegoat: the Emperor chose her to be sacrificed for “the greater good” … all because she kind of looked like Aurelia’s reincarnation --- and unlike her, Kythaela was expendable.

Terror’s cold embrace took ahold of Kythaela. Thoughts ran wildly through her head. She thought of death, the finality of it. Was she prepared to die for her country, her Goddess? She thought about what would happen if she failed this holy mission. Are the consequences of failing something Kythaela can live with? Even the thought of flat out refusing the Emperor’s request flashed through her mind but that was just as quickly pushed out. Although Ulric chose his words carefully, his “request” was a thinly veiled order. As a mere commoner, a subject of the Great Aerowyn Empire, defying the direct order of Ulric Blackwood was treasonous. The Empire would make sure that Kythaela and her family were disgraced and unwelcomed as long as they resided within the Empire. She could not do that to her family.

The train of thought that lead to her family loosened terror’s grip on Kythaela, allowing her to relax. Recalling each of their faces, voices, and mannerism made her realize what was and always had been her top priority: her family. Whatever she decided at that moment would affect her family no matter what, so Kythaela had to be absolutely sure that her decision benefited them.

Kythaela closed her eyes and took in a depth breath, before bowing. “There are no words that can accurately express how honored I am to be chosen for such an important role.” The people around her nodded in agreement or looked at the display with indifference. No one here expected her to say no to Ulric: she was a servant and he was her Emperor. This meeting could not have played out any other way. Up until the point where she continued with a, “However.” Kythaela could feel the room become uncomfortably still, eyes all staring down the foolish half-elf.

“I must humbly request two things from you if you wish me to take on this duty, your Imperial Majesty.”

Kythaela’s elven ears heard the audience mutter amongst themselves, shocked by the nerve of the lowly woman. Kythaela swallowed as she lifted her gaze towards the Emperor.

“I have a family that I love very much back home. A great distance separates us, but not a single day has passed that I don't think of them. As much as I wish I could be with them, we are not financially well off, hence why I am working here. My first request is that they are compensated handsomely upon,” Kythaela hesitated to get the next words out, “the unlikely event that I should perish.” The silence that followed her sentence and Ulric’s hand movement commanded her to continue.

“My second request… is that my family will not be punished for my actions during my service to the Goddess, no matter the outcome.” Kythaela rounded up all the courage she could muster at that moment to look straight into the Emperor’s eyes, “My failures are mine, and mine alone. I will bear any punishment without resistance, but my family cannot be blamed for what I do.”

She bowed her head down, praying to the Gods and Goddesses, “These are my requests, your Imperial Majesty.”

For a few moments the Emperor looked down upon Kythaela, his hardened face not moving a single muscle. His council watched him carefully, holding their breath in anticipation until suddenly a warm chuckle escaped Ulric's mouth and he smiled. "You are brave, aren't you girl?" He gestured as if to wave her off, out of the council chamber. "So be it then. You shall have your wishes."

---

~The day before Ariella’s meeting with the Divines~

Praise the Gods, she did it. She had no idea how, but she managed to do it: Kythaela forged a legally binding contract with the Emperor. He could probably nullify the contract if he truly wanted to, but at least Ulric would not able to do it in good conscience. Kythaela would have to have really mess things up for the Emperor to become vindictive enough to go out of his way to nullify the contract. That or the Empire itself would have to be in a dire situation in need of someone, anyone, to blame. A situation which the Goddess Aurelia was to save them from… Hopefully.

Kythaela straightened her dress, in an effort to look more presentable, and took in a few deep breaths for the seventh time since she reached the door. Just passed this door was a mortal deity, an awe inducing powerful being; the god who can change the world. Her heart couldn’t stop racing. Perhaps it was a fruitless endeavor to even try to calm herself down, but she didn’t want to make a bad first impression. Stay cool, calm, and collected, Kythaela. You can do it. She pulled out a paper filled with key phrases in the Kassian native language. Kythaela only just started to study Kassian, so she was far from fluent. She did, however, hope that hearing something familiar would make the introduction process much smoother.

After putting the paper away, the servant knocked on the decorative door. When she got no response the second time she knocked on the door Kythaela let herself into the Goddess’s private quarters, “Pardon my intrusion, Goddess.”

It was impossible for anyone’s eyes not to be drawn to the beautiful figure in the room, despite the elegant decorations that overflooded the space around her. Standing near the window, in all her holy radiance, was the Goddess Aurelia. She who saved Aerowyn from evil many centuries ago; the one so powerful that she could shape the world as she pleased. Kythaela felt her cheeks blush when the Goddess locked eyes with her. The half-elf quickly averted her gaze to look down at the floor. To think that someone would ever mistake someone like Kythaela with the Goddess, flattering, but it was an insult to the Goddess.

Kythaela performed a formal Kassian greeting gesture, “<Good day, oh great one. You honor me with your presence.> ” The Aerowyn accent was thicker than molasses and even with how slow she talked, Kythaela still fumbled with the words. With how badly butchered her following sentences were, Kythaela should have stopped using Kassian, yet she trudged on. Maybe the servant would have noticed the change in the Goddess if she had just looked up, but she didn’t. “<With your permission, allow me to introduce myse---…>”

Ariella's gaze snapped towards the girl, eyes shooting icy daggers with intent to kill. "You mock me?" Her hands slowly curled into fists as an animalistic urge came over her body. "Leave!" She pointed to door, face beginning to flush with anger. "Get out! NOW!"

At first, Kythaela didn’t know what had happened. Did she do something wrong? Well, she must have. Why else would the Goddess be so furious with her? She opened her mouth to explain that she meant no ill will, but instead of words with meaning, a strangled noise took its place. Kythaela turned pale, breaking out into cold sweat, as panic set in. Her throat tightened to the point that she couldn’t breathe. This couldn’t be happening now. No. Not now of all times.

Where did the courage to negotiate with the Emperor go? Was this meeting not just as, if not more, important for her family?

In a last-ditch attempt, Kythaela tried to fish out the piece of paper with Kassian on it, but her trembling hands made it near impossible to do such a simple task. She was a heartbeat away from fainting when she finally pulled out the piece of paper. Perhaps it was because she felt some form of relief when she finally got the paper that Kythaela’s throat relaxed. As soon as it did, however, instead of a sound ---whether it be a pathetic noise or actual words--- coming from her windpipe, what Kythaela had for breakfast shot out of her gullet.

She may have managed to save her family from the wrath of mortals… but what could she possibly do to protect her family from the wrath of a Goddess? Nothing. All Kythaela could do was pray and hope that another God would take pity on her miserable soul.

The Divine

Kythaela Wyvernhide

Kythaela Wyvernhide

Age:
Twenties

Appearance:

At a distance, and even from behind, Kythaela can be mistaken for Ariella. Not only do they both possess similar hair and eye color, they also are roughly the same height and build. Upon closer inspection, however, anyone who has ever seen Ariella can easily tell the two apart. While Kythaela and Ariella do have the same long dark hair and freckles, their physical similarities end there. Compared to Ariella, Kythaela’s facial features are much rounder: from the shape of her face to her nose. The only exceptions are her slightly pointed ears. The blue portion of her hazel eyes are so vivid that many fail to notice the flecks of brown and green.

Personality:

If there is one word to describe Kythaela it would be “timid.” Kythaela had always been the quietest one of the family. She kept most thoughts to herself and hardly spoke up for herself. Kythaela does not like confrontation of any degree and is more likely to deflect or flee the situation at hand than to face it head-on. Not to say that she wouldn’t be confrontational if it involved her family. Her family means everything to Kythaela. If it was for them, Kythaela would face King Ormund and his army… albeit with as much finesse as a newborn fawn taking its very first steps.

Kythaela struggles with anxiety when it comes to social situations, especially when interacting with people of higher stature. She can, however, learn to be more relaxed around individuals she trusts and knows on a personal level. Luckily for her, most nobles like servants that are quiet and submissive. At the very least, she’s yet to receive a complaint about her behavior around nobles.

Kythaela’s spirituality has been both a source of emotional support and what prevents her from being more adventurous. She does not take risks out of fear that she would fail, but more importantly, Kythaela managed to convince herself that the gods would punish her ---or worse, her family--- for that failure.

Race:
Half-elf

Origin:
Riverwood village, which is located on the outskirts of Aerowyn, near the border of Lyros.

Residence:
Within the castle of Emperor Ulric Blackwood, servant’s quarters.

Position:
Peasant

Occupation:
Servant

Bio:

Kythaela was born and raised in a small village on the outskirts of Aerowyn territory. Aside from the fact that her family was, and still is, considered to be a novelty attraction of their village ---largely due to the family being comprised of a dwarf, a human, a giantess, a halfling, a half-elf, and three half-dwarves--- Kythaela lived a ordinary life that any peasant would have lived. She was a nobody and she would die as a nobody, just like the numerous faceless, nameless, people before her. At least, it would have played out that way had King Ormund not declared war.

The day that changed Kythaela’s life came a short time after the reincarnation of Aurelia was dragged into the castle. Kythaela was cleaning in the main hallway when her arm was grabbed by a knight who started to scold her for attempting to “escape.” It did not take too long after that for the knight to realize that Kythaela was not who he thought she was. He apologized and that was the end of that. Except, it wasn’t.

The very next day, Kythaela was summoned by the Emperor. He ordered Kythaela to become the Ariella’s personal caretaker, but he also wanted Kythaela to become her double. Should the occasion arise, Kythaela was to take Ariella’s place to trick the enemies and give Ariella a chance to survive another day. In other words, Kythaela had the honor of becoming a scapegoat.

Wyvernhide family

• Dhuldran Wyvernhide: A dwarf that used to be an adventurer who now made a living making textiles. He adopted a halfling and a giant before marrying a human seamstress, Roesia, who was 8 months pregnant with a half-elf child.
• Roesia: A human who was working as a seamstress in the capital before she got pregnant with Kythaela. She was disowned by her family due to the pregnancy and her employers fired her to avoid being associated with a scandal. With nowhere to go, she went to her friend Dhuldran for help. The two eventually got married.
• Nanette: A giant and eldest child of the Wyvernhide household. She was found abandoned in the mountains during one of Dhuldran’s adventures. She now works as a carpenter in the city.
• Cheldric: A halfling and second eldest child of the Wyvernhide household. He is the child of Dhuldran’s old companions, who both died during one of their adventures. He now works as a merchant and travels around the known world.
• Ikz, Yan, and Xec: Half-dwarf triplets and the youngest of the Wyvernhide household. Riverwood village hasn’t known a single quiet day since the scamps learned to crawl. In recognition for being such mischiefs, the villagers gave the monikers “Goblin”, “Imp”, and “Kobold” to the boys.

The Divine

@The MuseAwsome, sounds great! Can't wait to read more about the setting :)

The Divine

Interested!

I do have questions concerning PCs though:

You mentioned how the Divine would train the reincarnation of Aurelia, but do those skills have to be useful in combat? If they can be non-combat skills, how (seemingly) mundane can those skills be?

Does the PC have to be a Divine? Could a player potentially play as Aurelia's servant, bodyguard (not skilled enough to be a Divine, but good enough to be a meatshield should it come to it), body double, etc. etc.?

[closed]

Juuuuuuuust dropping by to say hi.

.............

[closed]

[closed]

---

Luan Fields; The Aftermath

---

After the battle officially ended, Hal started to check up on his fellow teammates with Quill and assisted her with any medical matter that she needed an extra pair of hands on. Whenever he approached a hurt SOLDIER, regardless of the severity of the injury, Hal face expressed great concern even though his mouth would continue to crack jokes when he wasn’t talking about medical related topics to Quill or the patient. Only when both Quill and Hal were certain that the SOLDIER’s injuries were not life threatening or could not possibly lead to any future disabilities, did Hal allow himself to smile his usual goofy smile. Once the two were able to provide basic medical care to each of their teammates, Hal took all the items with the SOLDIER’s DNA on it, put them in individual containers, labeled them, and placed the containers in a large bag.

The SOLDER’s DNA samples were not the only thing Hal collected, however. He went off wondering over to the bodies of the giant eagles and made sure he collected as much samples as he could from each one. When he was done with that, he walked towards the soldiers that had died from the eagle’s attack. It was much more difficult to collect and accurately label the fragments of flesh, so the scientist did not bother to pick up every bit of meat he found on the ground. He continued to acquire samples until the group was fed up of calling Hal’s name a hundred times and decided that it was faster to just drag the man into the Behemoth.

During the long travel in the Behemoth, Hal spend most of his time in the section of the vehicle with the most science equipment and analyzed the samples he acquired. Although he was not particularly secretive about the work, Hal would stop working every time someone—other than Evangeline—was nearby and would instead focus on starting up a conversation with them. Those who were not fond of Hal’s blabbering immediately vacated the area, but those who were willing to tolerate the man or even liked to talk with him, were welcomed by Hal with open arms. If someone was curious enough to ask what he was doing, they were treated with a straight answer—that he was analyzing DNA samples—, even though he did not give up specific details. Whenever he was fairly certain he was alone, or that Evangeline was the only person nearby, Hal carried on with the DNA analysis, talking to Evangeline if she happened to be there.

Every now and then, Hal took breaks and walked around the Behemoth to check up on his teammates, the injured SOLDIERs especially. He made sure he introduced himself to the newcomers. He talked to them enough to start listing up some potential nicknames he could call them.

When the announcement that they had arrived at Mrihl, and that the team needed to get outside, reached Hal’s ears, he immediately disposed the DNA samples he collected. He then inserted a small devise in the computer and when he pulled it out, all traces of the DNA analysis data vanished.

---

SOLIDER Base; Laboratory Conference Room

---

The meeting went as well as Haziq expected: mass hysteria amongst the higher ups while everyone else stood around awkwardly in silence. With how much yelling the President did, Haziq was surprised that a blood vain didn’t burst or that Haziq or Athene were still standing, alive. They were, unlike some other scientists, replaceable, after all. But Haziq would rather not have his life end just because the President didn’t like what they found out about Ondřej Ó Dubhshláine’s death.

Ondřej Ó Dubhshláine, one of the pioneers of Aeon technology and close associate of the higher ups, was found dead in his house a few days ago. Considering his age, no one would have thought much about his death if it weren’t for one thing: his body was found being consumed by green greyish blobs. With the recent SeeR activity, the government feared the possibility of an assassination using bioweapons so decided to send the body to SOLDIER base to investigate the cause of death. Good thing the government made the decision as fast as they did, because the unknown blobs did not stop devouring the body of Ondřej the entire time. In fact, all traces of Ondřej vanished from the face of the planet in the middle of autopsy. All the scientists had to really work on were the blobs and even that ended up being a race against time.

The scientists discovered that the green-grey blob was a colony of flesh eating—although it ate more than just the flesh—bacteria in which their only source of sustenance was Ondřej himself and when Ondřej was gone, the bacteria started to eat each other. The results had some serious implications. For one thing, the chances of bacteria evolving naturally to eat only one man in the entire world was thinner than the bacterium’s cell wall, thus, it was highly likely that the bacteria was a product of genetic engineering. If this was true, however, it would mean that whoever made it has extensive knowledge in the field of genetics and also has the resources to create the bacteria. Secondly, there was a possibility that the person who made it was able to get close enough to Ondřej—a man who was constantly surrounded by top security and actually hired food tasters just incase his food was poisoned—to infect him with the bacteria. The other possibility was that the Ondřej-eating bacteria were the type of bacteria that could produce an endospore, in which case, the bacteria could have been created years ago, remained dormant through the years traveling from one place or person to another place or person, and it only recently managed to come into contact with Ondřej. If true, the person who made the bacteria would not have to be close to Ondřej to infect him, but the person still had to find a way to acquire Ondřej’s DNA so that he or she could genetically engineer the bacteria to target Ondřej.

If the SeeRs were in fact the culprits, it meant that the rebellion might be more powerful and have more inside connections than the government had initially thought. This was what scared the higher ups: the SeeRs could be anywhere, ready to strike at anytime. The higher ups were most likely going to start an investigation on potential spies very soon at this rate.

Haziq glanced over at Athene who had been staring silently at the data they had collected. He was about to call her name when he saw her lips move to form the words “Verts Gris.”

Where has he heard that before?

---

---

Zalera Tundra; Mrihl

---

Feeling someone’s gaze directed to him, Hal turned his head around just in time to see two little children ducking into the bushes. He continued to stare in the direction and saw their heads come up, then immediately go back down when their eyes met with his. Based on their expensive looking clothing and similar features they had with the Baron, it was easy for Hal to conclude that the children were the Baron’s—a close relative, if not the Baron’s own. They must have been curious to know who the foreign guests were, but were probably supposed to be doing something else—school work perhaps?

Hal entertained himself by watching the children try and fail to be stealthy for awhile before deciding that he would go introduce himself the little misses and mister. Every time the children hid, Hal walked over to them and quickly froze in some ridiculous pose when the children stuck their head out again. It did not take long for the children to catch on what game they were playing and they were more than happy to play along.

After a few turns of red light green light, Hal was at arms reach of the children when he wobbled. The children pointed at him declaring that they had caught him moving. Hal laughed as he admitted defeat and kneeled down so he could talk to the children at eye level. The three introduced themselves in turn, confirming Hal’s suspicions of the children being the Baron’s offspring. When Hal introduced himself as a SOLDIER, the children didn’t believe him, because he looked nothing like Luc, but they forgave their new friend for lying. The children had no one but themselves to play with at the Baron’s estate and an adult willing to play with them was a breath of fresh air.

---

1 hour of fun and games later, the security mistook the children’s screams of joy with cries for help and immediately captured the suspicious man who was harassing them. He insisted that he was a SOLDIER, but the guards knew very well that the man was just making things up. They locked the intruder into a barred room until the proper authorities could arrest him.

[closed]

---

Luan Fields

---

In hindsight, he should have known the giant eagles would suicide attack a group of soldiers if and when their lives were nearing its end. Biological altruism at its finest. He had kept the possibility of the birds targeting the SOLDIERs farthest from the center of the battlefield —especially the absent-minded looking ex-scientist who was just standing there in the open without any armor to speak of— tucked away in the back of his mind, but when one critically wounded eagle came diving into the Behemoth’s direction, there was nothing that Hal, or anyone for that matter, could do about it.

When he first saw the signs, Hal had thought simply that all it meant was that he’d have to defend himself from the incoming attack. When he realized that there were foot soldiers right behind him that was when panic set in. He did try, though. Hal even had time to turn his head over his shoulder to shout at the people around him to run, take cover. He, however, underestimated the eagle’s determination. By the time he finished shouting and returned his head to its original position, the creature was almost at the Behemoth. From there, everything was in slow motion.

Despite the immediate danger being right in front of him, Hal’s eyes found themselves wondering to the figure behind the eagle: Evangeline running after the eagle with an expression that could even give Kain a run for his money.

A little girl comes running towards his direction —arms extended forward, hands desperately grabbing the air unable to wait for the moment that it would grab something tangible, eyes full of tears, and her mouth wide open as she sobs. She calls out to her sanctuary for protection from something beyond physical harm.

He reaches out to her to shorten the distance between them so that she could be one second closer to a warm embrace, a moment closer for him to whisper soothing words to her.

She jumps into his arms—…

… And Hal held Evangeline as tightly as he could when the deadly winds came. Although he was ultimately the one to get pinned down, he attempted to shield the blond from not only the winds, but also from the sight and sound of people being sliced into little pieces like food in a food chopper. Not that his attempts succeeded.

When both the wind and screams of anguish died out, the two SOLDIERs finally freed each other from their embrace and looked at one another to see how much damage either one had taken, which turned out to be none. Hal furrowed his eyebrows, confused as to what had spared the two from the ugly fate that fell upon the unfortunate soldiers.

Evangeline did not give Hal much time to deliberate over the phenomenon as she suddenly scolded the older man, “What in the fuck are you doing?!”

“Oh my,” Hal gasped overdramatically, “such language! Where did you pick that up from? Have you been hanging out with the wrong crowd?”

If this had been any other circumstance, if there hadn't of been death waiting to strike them both in the form of wings and gales that tore people asunder: she might have laughed. But, as the situation had provided, she did not and the perpetual tilt of her mouth only seemed to twist and conform to an enraged snarl as more of her disbelief quaked into the depths of her eyes.

"I - what?!" She screeched, confusion bleeding over into her rage, blending the two into a glamour of utter despair and fear. "You were just standing there!" Evangeline accused, sweeping armoured limbs out wide to gesture to the entire field. "You!" Small fingers curled and cinched tightly into fists that lashed out in fury. "Idiot!" The first punch descended, hammering against his shoulder. "Did you not see the big." The second punch fell onto his chest. "Fucking bird coming towards you!?"

“OW! OW! Bubbles, I bruise easily! Ow! Oww…” Hal rubbed his shoulder and his chest, simultaneously, “I know who you’ve been handing out too long with… Honeybun. Jeez. Next thing you know, you’ll be beating me to death just for saying good morning.” When another fist threatened to hit Hal again, he quickly added, “Okay, okay! Yes, I was standing around, but it’s because you guys obviously didn’t need me out there! You were kicking ass! Plus, you know I can’t fight! I just thought it was better for the team if I just hanged out in the back! Can’t say it quite went as I thought it would haaave…” His eyes drifted towards the bloody mess the creature had left behind before it perished, but not for long.

She listened to him quietly, almost sullen, her cinched fingers trembling in throes of anger as they thrust and rested on her thighs, each word he sputtered and exclaimed making her brow knit together and her lips to quiver in both frustration and another emotion that she would not admit to: fear.

"You're such an idiot, Hally!" Evangeline woefully cried, her fingers immediately grasping fistfuls of facial hair, bring her burning, mismatched stare close to penetrate into his own gaze. "I'm here to protect you, remember? What am I supposed to do if you were..." There was a pause, heavy, inflicted with memory and the fog of something.. more. Something that she could bring herself to speak aloud or utter, not even in a personal whisper. Thus, her grasp loosened and she carefully spread out her searching touch and felt her palm across the hilt Umbra - still tainted in the life of the Eagle she had taken - and brought it, thrust, against her breast: silent.

Familiar hands planted themselves onto each of Evangeline’s cheeks and a soft voice called for the woman’s attention, “Evangeline.” Once fairly certain that he got her attention, Hal closed his eyes and leaned his head down, making their foreheads touch each other. He did not allow himself to continue speaking until his felt the muscles in Evangeline’s body relax. “And you kept your promise. You did protect me. I'm standing right here, alive, because you did.” Both knew that the strange phenomenon of a SOLDIER not being affected by the eagle’s attacks was not limited them —Quill, for instance— and there was no evidence to suggest that Evangeline had caused the phenomenon to happen in both instances, but Hal insisted, “You saved me, Bubbles, and you were bad ass at it.” He opened his eyes and smiled at her. “Thank you for protecting me.”

Her brow appeared to knit even closer, lashes thrown wide as the wealth of memory and habit came to and visibly cajoled and seduced her fury. Her grasp a hold of her dear Umbra loosened, slack and almost useless as her gaze riddled with emotions incapable of being uttered too began to shut. His words seemed to seep through her pores, every muscle visibly relaxing under his soft utterances and reassurances that she had, indeed, saved him. She knew that Hally had taken stock and recognized that they had not sustained injury, either due to their position of her clamouring to envelop him into her protective embrace, but to inquire of such a phenomenon was not a luxury they could afford. The aftermath was staggering and the capers of wild Eagles told her that some had remained yet.

Evangeline quietly withdrew, lashes slowly beginning to rise until she met Hally's gaze with her bi-coloured stare and, slowly, allowed a cheek-caving smile to wreath her face in cheer.

"Of course I was bad ass! What else would you expect?" She boasted, laughing in her obtuse mirth and pride. She bounded up to her heels, her movements fluid and sudden and no longer hampered by her fear and sorrow. She twirled Umbra through her gestures and carefully swung the butt down, the hilt mere inches from Hally's nose.

"Remember for next time, you idiot. Get down and out if someone comes at you, and let me do all the bad assery killing! Okay?" She drawled, almost lapsing into a jaunty little tune as she playfully knocked him with her fist, letting it curl against his cheek in a playful box before she began making head towards the Behemoth, trying to dispel the jitters that made her gait hesitant and slow - as if wary of approaching the dead as she left Hally behind.

He lets the little girl go, despite knowing what will happen to her if he did. This is why he could never be her white knight; he could not, cannot, and never will be able to protect her —anyone. He can never truly be her sanctuary, no matter how many times he wishes he could have been… he knows the truth: it is he who should be slain by the white knight. But maybe then…