Nanaya

Iris Ascendis

@ERode@AThousandCurses@Psyker Landshark

NORTHERN NERO ROAD

Quick work was made of the advancing horde on either side. A flurry of blows and bullets alike ensured that short work was made of the largely untrained brigands. They tried their best to react, but bullets to normal people proved far faster, as was the rush of a trained paladin. Rio dashed to the opposite carriage to assist Alto, who had already cut down several by himself before parrying away arrows loosed his way after drawing his sword and moving forward. The security mannekin promptly saw to the archers on either side with a rush of spears and durable bodies fit to endure the mundanity of arrows, and Rio had made sure to double tap any who seemed to attempt to recover from Alto's blows - weaker as they were, from a lack of magical or essence-based enhancement. Chloe, meanwhile, dove back inside the girls' carriage and took cover. It had been a decisive few seconds of combat, and the victory had gone to Wingram without question.

Kirn clicked his tongue as he bore witness to the farce, and nudged the eastern man he had called Ferg. "I said they weren't worth bringin', I did. Get 'em up, or I'll have to-"

The bandit leader didn't get to finish his sentence or take a step forward before being halted by Ferg's hand, whose eyes strayed between Alto and his students. "Patience, they endured rank zero. Fundamental principles have remained, but not forever... For Pittance, My Heart Yearns."

As Ferg spoke, his thumb flicked the guard of his sword and allowed it to push open for but a half-second. In that half-second, the brief showing of blade glowed a sickly green with a faint trail of emerald mist escaping. This would last until gravity covered the blade once more with its sheath, and as that happened, the fallen bandits would immediately stand in the blink of an eye - wounds healed, veins pulsing across their flesh, Personal Barriers raised. The grass around them had rotted, leaving nothing but charred soil beneath. They would instantly begin rushing with enhanced speeds towards those that had felled them seconds prior, as if charged with a grudge. In that respect, Alto, Otis and Iraleth appeared to be the primary targets of the newfound energy emanating from these fallen brigands.

"Now begins rank one," Ferg would muse, lightly punching Kirn on the shoulder as they stood back and continued to watch. "I am afraid, dear paladin, that there will be no burning this day. You will dance to the tune of your superior, and fall when your strings are cut. As will your allies."

Rio would dash forward towards one of the raised crooks with a punch raised, aiming to intercept their attack on Alto, but would find his strike unable to puncture the Personal Barrier raised. The man seemed to care not for the attack, and ignored the boy in favor of pursuing Alto, who was stepping backwards and parrying strikes from mid-range, aiming to get a read on this new dilemma. "Healthy dose of caution, Compact 3. We've entered the territory of an Ethos," Alto would spit as he dashed another step backwards, allowing the security mannekin to clash against the newly raised. On the opposite side, Otis and Iraleth would similarly find the mannekin pushing for a defensive line to the best of their ability near the boys' carriage - but without aid, it was clear they would be overwhelmed before long by pure, unrelenting aggression with no trace of humanity remaining.

Any inside the boys' carriage at that time would also see Davil trying his best to turn his wheelchair towards the doors, frustration and fear mixed on his face. Michael seemed to remain snoring, and Kann was huddled under the window, shivering and shaking, muttering, "I don't wanna die," on repeat. Fianchetto, on the other hand, perked up upon hearing word of an Ethos. He flipped more furiously through his tome as he stood out of his seat, looking towards Chunji and Otis in between page skims. "If you or any of the rest can keep the Ethos user and the vulgar one busy for long enough, I suspect I can launch a counterattack," he would state with confidence and clarity. He would then glance towards Kann and the sleeping janitor, and then entirely disregard the idea before looking once more at the two boys. "Every second counts."

Iris Ascendis

Sorry for the delay, next round tomorrow!

Iris Ascendis

That's fair! Get well. ^.^

Iris Ascendis

@ERode@AThousandCurses@Psyker Landshark

NORTHERN NERO ROAD

"I oughta knock your teeth out right now," Rio would remark as he finished the last of his soda, crushing the can and tossing it out the window behind him. Before anything could continue, however, the sound of breaking wood could be heard, as well as laughter. In the boys' carriage, Fianchetto took to rummaging through his bags as if looking for something important, while Kann tried to peer out one of the windows to see what was transpiring. Michael, of all things, remained asleep. Even with Davil's best efforts, he failed to so much as turn himself towards the doors, instead grumbling to passersby to, "Be careful," as Rio also took to the exit. From the girls' carriage, Chloe cautiously stepped outside after Alto, feeling all too vulnerable in her current state were danger to rear its head.

And to those who left, security mannekin included, danger would indeed be apparent. The mannekin drivers assigned to each carriage were smashed to pieces on the ground, with a burly horned man out in front, his dual axes glistening in the sunlight. Next to him, a man of eastern dress withdrew a towel and began wiping the mannekin splinters off the horned man's axes with a satisfied smirk. All around the sides of the road stood rugged men in unwashed leather and torn fur garb - axes, swords and bows drawn as they stood at the ready.

The horned man would slam his axes to the ground, cracking it as his laughter ceased, and with it, the chuckles of the dozen or so men that surrounded the Wingram travelers. "A bit soon for the kids to be gettin' out of school," his voice would boom as he looked towards Alto, whose hand remained on his scabbard. "Goin' somewhere in a hurry? The heroes of tomorrow, playing hooky, mayhaps?"

Alto still did not answer, his eyes scanning from the man to his assistant, to the various brigands that surrounded not just himself, but any who would exit the carriages. He made sure, in particular, that any kids who exited wouldn't act rashly, and was prepared to move suddenly should any do so. The horned man, noting this anxious silence from Alto, continued. "Expensive thing, the training that goes into... Ethos, was it? Lotsa protection, and no doubt lots of rich kiddies who've never met the business end of a blade," he would chuckle while raising one of his axes to rest over his shoulder. "Lots of brats who don't know struggle. Ferg, what did you say an Ethos goes for, again?"

He would turn to the eastern-dressed man, who nodded as he tossed his towel onto the scraps of the carriage drivers and reached for his sheathed sword with an odd handle design. "For one who possesses an Ethos of even passing usefulness, a thousand gold would draw a roll of the eyes, my lord. I hear Rekordia is especially generous this time of year."

With a cackle, the horned man would spin both axes and point them in a wide, spanning motion across those who had stepped outside, including the security mannekin who had readied their weapons near the carriage doors. Alto's other hand slowly reached towards the handle of his sword as he glanced at the actions of his allies to ascertain how soon he should make his next move. His expression deepened upon hearing a mention of Ethos - clearly concerned as to how informed random highwaymen could be.

"And ol' Boss Kirn is in the mood for a payday. You fancy folk shouldn'a stepped outta bounds this time of year - it's OUR time! Toss away your weapons an' this'll be an easy life transition for y'all."

Chloe slowly stepped back towards the carriage doors, while Rio cracked his knuckles and looked towards his classmates as if curious who would be first to act among them. Some of the bandits slowly closed in with their axes and swords, while others stayed back and readied arrows or bolts. They seemed evenly divided on each side, with each group possessing four melee combatants and two ranged combatants, while the horned and eastern man remained in front of the carriages. Despite obliterating the driver mannekin, the horses pulling each carriage would appear unharmed.

Iris Ascendis

@ERode Makes sense, and I think that's something that could be on the table as a plot turn. It's also your turn to post, at the moment!

Iris Ascendis

Thanks for the good times, Est, I'll miss having ya around. Hope everything works out for you with whatever's going on, and you're always welcome to come back if at any point things improve!

As for the current situation IC, I'm not sure. It's too significant a plot to roll back or ignore, but I also won't control a player character. My initial thought is to continue on the current course, and focus the upcoming arc more on adventures in Vaal Nero itself with Otis, Chunji and Iraleth while the trial with Ciara is more of an offscreen affair? It's unfortunate it had to go this way, but that's the way forward I could see.

Iris Ascendis

It hasn't quite been two years yet, yeah? The date says August 28th, 2023 for when the OOC started, so it's still some amount of months until that point. It's weird that it'd say two years! Still been a while, though. The passage of time is a weird thing.

Iris Ascendis

@ERode@AThousandCurses

BLUE CARRIAGE, NORTHERN NERO ROAD

"So many inquiries," Fianchetto would murmur as he looked towards Otis, thumbing the corner of his book. His eyes would scan the Strigidae a moment, then another, and once more, the questions cycling through his mind and gauging intent as he did so. There was, after all, not many reasons to wonder such things, was there? Curiosity had to be sated, the old man supposed, and it was up to him at this moment. With a reluctant glare, he nodded and spoke.

"Vaal Shakta is not a place of Astrite faith - or not one that requires it, strictly speaking. It is... a place of cynics that have long since moved beyond the whimsy of discovery, perhaps. A place where, to researchers, facts are the only language necessary, and theses their lives. An 'interested party' would be one of the various government magi, whether that be faculty at Strigari or one sworn in through the proper legal channels as a Strigari alumnus, or... one that Headmaster Gorias Velyphus finds intriguing enough to handwave as an exception to the law. The research is often kept very close to the chest, depending on the researcher pursuing their thesis. They're generally more open about the study of Umbralism, in the capital - or, rather, the study of its ideology, its scripture, and of its decline. Spells and rituals from the faith are, of course, still quite illegal there."

Once more cracking open the book to a different page, Fianchetto rummages through to set his eyes upon his novel instead, hesitant to continue. Nevertheless, he would grumble, "I have only heard rumors of true Umbralism, but yes, I do believe that certain magi are entrusted with the examination of Umbralist creations. Actual Umbralists, I do not know; but yes, some among them were known to alter their biology through rituals. That was the reason, after all, why the Dysis Monstrum was formed to bring some sects to their knees so many years ago. Such as the creation of shadow lycans through the perversion and corruption of the lycanthropy disease, which of course led to the purging of all werecreatures at the hands of the Dysis Monstrum. A gruesome affair."

With a shudder, the old man would shake his head and once more begin immersing himself in the book he held. He would undoubtedly answer further questions if prodded, though seemed increasingly withdrawn the more he explained of Umbralism - or perhaps the capital's approach to life? It was unclear. Maybe both served to create a cocktail of doubt in the elderly mage. "Some say at least one lycanthrope of the original, non-Umbralist variant still exists in the capital, though," he would mutter as he flipped a page.

Davil looked over with concern towards Chunji. At first he seemed to try to reach over to pat him on the shoulder, but realized that while locked in place in the middle of the carriage, he could go nowhere. Instead, he awkwardly slid his hand back to brush over his own hair and chuckle, coughing a few times, and then gesturing towards the boy. "You good there, Chunji? You're not in rebound or anything, right? Got enough sleep? Enough... rest?"

Rio would chuckle darkly shortly after, and slap Davil on the shoulder, producing next to no reaction from the wheelchair-bound boy. "He'll be fine. If he lost out on any Z's, it's his own damn fault for his stuck-up anti-fizz lectures," Rio would scoff as he pulled out a can of Feemie's Fizzy Fun, cracking it open and taking a swig. "Besides, there's no difference between sleep and rest, that's redundant. Should've just saved your breath."

"Mmm... I-I dunno," Davil would respond after a beat, brow furrowing in thought as he looked towards the carriage ceiling. "I've had non-restful sleep before, and I've walked away rested from situations without sleeping before. It's a kinda important distinction at least, right?"

Rio would exchange a glare with Davil, eyes locked a moment as if in silent judgment, and at least on Rio's part, he would drop the subject unless others were to bring it up - he had fizz to drink.

After some amount of hours on the road and further discussion, regardless, the carriage would slow to a stop. Kann would peek out one of the windows out of curiosity.

---

@Estylwen@Psyker Landshark

RED CARRIAGE, NORTHERN NERO ROAD

Alto shifted in his seat, adjusting his scabbard. "I think that kind of responsibility is really important, Kyrios. Not just for what it represents to the nation, but that we have the privilege of living in a country that hands out its blessings so freely to the worthy. The leyline we live upon, draw from and feast upon? The blessing of the ocean air, from a long-deceased hero taken before his time? That Astra itself claims the Neroite cathedral as its birthplace, in this new age we live in? Just compare that to a place like Rekordia, or even Mirris."

His gaze downcast, in thought, he continued. "Rekordia, where the north suffers from scalding sands and where the south freezes under an eternal tempest. Barren landscapes from essence harvesting and usage as the result of an empire of over a thousand years. The first nation, chosen as the birthplace of mortalkind. Now they fight for scraps like rabid dogs, the northern sultans and southern tsars in eternal war as they each dine upon their own hubris."

Sighing, his rant continued, spiraling without realizing. "And Mirris, the kingdom of heroes. Glorified conquerors, stuck in the traditional ways of old knighthood, content to perfect their martial prowess with spear or sword with the abundance of essence at their disposal. Much as Rekordia once did, or so history tells us, but they don't see it yet. They expand, they conquer, they... take. And with their four Stalwara and the hero king of the Golden Year, now, who can tell them otherwise?"

A long exhale, as if Alto had been meaning to get that off his chest for some time, followed. He finally looked towards Iraleth once more, with a steeled gaze. "Just try to remember all that the next time you think about the so-called burden of corsairs, Kyrios. No country is perfect, but I'll take the words and blades of Nero's sea-blessed before I ever accept Mirrisian or Rekordian zealots. A single one of the Stalwara could likely ash our nation, so I refuse to believe the weight of a corsair is too great. Things like them, things like the students of Wingram, Ethos-based education, it's all... necessary, to keep this country safe."

The instructor's head would then turn towards Ciara, hand still gripped on his scabbard as he rested it on his shoulder. "Rest assured, it'd be quick if I ended you. There's no desire in me for theatrics, I'd take no joy in it. Just don't give me a reason, alright? I'd rather not have to explain myself to the Court later. I'd prefer you face judgment at the hands of those geezers rather than from me. They'll not sing songs of how a grown-ass swordsman cut down an Umbralist fledgling," Alto would chuckle.

Chloe remained silent through all this, looking out one of the carriage's side windows as the road passed by. Her torso leaned away from everyone else, lost in her own world out the window of the carriage. She looked towards the boys' carriage on the other side, chin leaning on her palm as she simply zoned out.

After some hours of travel on the road and further discussion, however, the carriage would slow to a complete stop. Alto would begin to move towards the doors to investigate.

Iris Ascendis

@ERode@AThousandCurses

BLUE CARRIAGE, OUTSIDE WINGRAM

There was something of a tension in the air as people boarded the boys' carriage. Michael deigned to sit off in one of the corners and immediately pulled his hood further down so as to catch some sleep, Fianchetto glared at the grimy janitor while propping open a book, and Dr. Kann looked around paranoid as if a ghost would pop out at him. Rio sat as far opposite Chunji as he possibly could, having not appreciated last night and was at least a pinch exhausted himself. Davil, for his part, slapped his knees after watching the service mannekin who wheeled him in simply walk out after locking his wheelchair, its job complete. "I guess there's no sympathy for the wounded among these guys. Talk about dire room service, am I right? Ahaha..."

The Wund boy's voice was stiffer and fainter, as if speaking just to prove to himself he was still here, or to break the relative silence any way he could. He'd turn towards Otis, a thin upward line instead of his usual wholehearted grin or anxious chittering. "Chunji tells me that you also had a hand in saving me, chum, so thanks for that. I suspect everyone did more than I could've asked for, so once I'm able to start moving around more again, let's continue where we left off, yeah?"

He nodded to himself as if answering himself, despite Otis not having done so yet. Rio would turn towards Davil, and then start to look around the carriage before speaking his own mind. "It wouldn't have gotten that far in the first place if Ciara were killed. Seriously, am I the only one thinking this? All this hero brainrot shittalk, idealistic bullshit, 'n we've got nothing to show for it but a comatose girl, a cripple, and from what I heard, human pasta sauce in that tower's halls. And now she's gettin' a personal escort to the city like a fuckin' fairytale princess. Oh, I wonder, will she finally meet her prince at the ball? Pffft."

Fianchetto would also perk up at this, shutting his book a moment to regard Rio with a look of what almost seemed to be pity, or understanding. "If what you seek is justice, Neroite justice is very fair. Were this incident to have transpired in the capital, speaking as somebody who lives there, there is no guarantee that she would even have been arrested for such things for very long, depending on context. Either that, or she would spend her life as the isolated subject of research and dissection, if some interested parties received her first."

Rio turned away, as if not willing to acknowledge the elder's words. Michael would begin snoring in the corner, unbothered. When the security mannekin boarded, the doors would close behind them, and the carriage would begin to move down the road.

---

@Estylwen@Psyker Landshark

RED CARRIAGE, OUTSIDE WINGRAM

Iraleth would have found her glare towards Michael returned with a perplexed brow, as if wondering if he'd said anything particularly odd. He'd slightly adjust the hood of his cloak - still ensuring that it never left his head - and picked at the strands of shredded fabric that dangled around its rim, before turning away to board the boys' carriage. Just before entering, however, he would stare at Iraleth again for but a brief second, as if still trying to work out what he said that was so bad, before disappearing out of sight.

Hearing Iraleth's particular request for her take before more joined the girls' carriage, Chloe would oblige while looking away towards the open doors of the carriage, gripping at her collar with one hand. "I have plenty of energy, you'll just need to excuse me if I'm, perhaps, saving it for when it matters," Chloe would reply bluntly, scoffing somewhat. "Because my 'take' is that I do not think this is the end. They never found that Umbralist's body, did they? The imp is in captivity, but why? What does it still offer? Can we even trust the present company to protect us while we're as vulnerable as uneducated flea farmers? Should something even worse be in store for us, I'll have to be ready to give it my all. The conditions are about right, I think, for-"

The half-elf caught herself just as she was about to say more than she was comfortable, waving off her own words. Just as well, perhaps, because the rest of their company on this journey arrived seconds later. Chloe shuffled away as she saw Ciara, not at all reassured by Alto's presence as a protector - he was as vulnerable as any of the rest of them, in his current state. Alto would ensure that wherever Ciara sat, he wouldn't be very far away, a hand unsubtly resting on the pommel of his longsword as he leaned back on the bench. Certainly not the most comfortable seating arrangements, but at least better than the floor.

This treatment would not change even as he agreed to Ciara's request. "Vaal Nero's legal system is typically handled through the lawmen of the city - the city guard, appointed knights and paladins, or at the highest level of offence, a corsair. Crooks go through all the legal proceedings one might expect, may plead their case, and are rendered judgment at the conclusion of a very short trial. These trials are very short because, if a judgment were to take too long to be given, a corsair will step in and make that judgment themselves."

With an almost nostalgic sigh and a tapping on the pommel of his sword, Alto looks towards the ceiling of the carriage. "See, corsairs are above the law, for the most part. Blessed by the waters, they're said to be, and are given the kinds of privileges that an average enforcer of justice wishes they could have. Most of the time, they're a guard or knight suddenly given this blessing and granted corsair status upon providing proof of their claim. Could just as easily be some random bum off the street, though. Been a thing, apparently, ever since Nero himself died. A blessing left behind for the chosen, or something, they say."

The professor would turn to look at Ciara for the first time since boarding, pointing at her. "But you. You committed what the city would consider 'religious defilement' as a result of Umbralist accusations. Matters of the soul and of the divine are judged by the Star Court - Astrite priests and divine mages that form the governing body of Vaal Nero. They'll not take this matter lightly, but it's the one legal domain corsairs have no power in, so you at least won't be worrying about a loose cannon. Count yourself lucky for that one, at least. They will review the footage and testimonies sent to them, meet with lawmen for their opinions, and consult Astra for her personal guidance on the matter. The magic angle throws in an air of unpredictability, I'd say."

As the instructor concluded his explanation - at least for that very moment, assuming Ciara had no more questions - half of the security mannekin would board and take seats with spears in hand. The doors would shut behind them, and with no particular signal, the carriage would begin to move down the road.

Iris Ascendis

Hey guys, sorry for the delay, I came down with a real bad flu or head cold of some kind, and it's got me feeling like I live in another dimension or something. I'll get something up once I feel better.