pantothenic

The Hourglass Order

Colette passes through the Queensgate! At the request of the Holy See, the beautiful sword maiden has taken an office in Cathedral Square. How is her sweet little Yalen doing by himself?

[NON PLAYER CHARACTER]

Colette D’aureville

Colette D’aureville

"Power has no value without a purpose."

---

---

27 | Female | Miatto | Clergy | 8.59

P E R S O N A L I T Y

❖ Diligent
❖ Righteous
❖ Maternal
❖ Gallant
❖ Spirited

Colette is the hard working big sister type. As an example to the kids in her hometown she has a lot of expectations for herself. She has been a protector of the weak since childhood, always picking fights with bullies to protect her friends. She is deeply devoted to Quentism, but has begun to grow distant of the church's authority for various reasons. She has a great disdain for those who avoid responsibility or take advantage of others. Colette can be a bit of a hardass at times, but she has a loving spirit and is quick to embrace other people. That doesn't mean she's naive; She's not nearly as soft as her precious Yalen. She is slow to forgive those with evil in their hearts.

L A N G U A G E S

❖ Avincian: fluent
❖ Miattan: fluent
❖ Perench: fluent
❖ Thalakan: basic communication
❖ Revidian: basic communication

Knows a smattering of Enthish as well, but only the curse words.

C H A R A C T E R A P P E A R A N C E

Colette spends the majority of her day wearing heavy armor, so her body has become a bit sinewy. Despite the muscles, she has a soft and feminine countenance. She spares no effort taking care of her hair, hoping to someday meet her prince. She likes to wear comfortable dresses when she isn't on duty. Doesn't have as many scars as one would expect from her line of work. She stands around five feet eight inches tall.

T H E G I F T

Colette received some tips on magic usage from the Brotherhood of Sunset orphanage, but her true potential was realized after she joined the Sisters of the Unconquered Sun. She has been training the Gift for over ten years and possesses both an abnormally high RAS and competency in multiple different schools. She has a good balance of offensive and defensive spells in her arsenal, with which she can hold off a squad of lesser mages singlehandedly. Her specialty is in weakening the opponent's body with chemical spells before crushing them in close quarters combat. She has practiced keeping her manas close to full while on duty in case someone gains the initiative against her. In a battle of drawing speed her strategy is to pin the enemy down with her swordplay. Her qualifications rival those of a Tan-Zeno.

Kinetic: Master level
Chemical: Expert level
Binding: Journeyman
Arcane: Adept level
Magnetic: Adept level

Blood type: Baseborn, Devourer

B A C K G R O U N D

Colette's life is not a grand story. She has lived in Vilamòs for the majority of her life. Unlike the other children in the monastery, she knew her parents for several years before losing them to a natural disaster. She was forced to become independent long before other kids her age, which led to her to becoming something like a role model for the orphanage. Everyone has treated her like an older sibling since she began living in the monastery, and she took on the role of watching over new arrivals. When she came of age and it was time to choose a career path, she initially chose to be a Sister of the Sunrise, but her tomboy personality made her too restless for that line of work. Her tough-as-nails temperament made her better suited for one of the warrior sects, and so she took up the blade as a Sister of the Unconquered Sun. She travels quite a bit in order to deal with bandits or beasts, and more than once she has been called to conduct peacekeeping operations and quell riots. Nowadays she has gained some seniority and has enough authority to delegate and give orders. She's locally famous in some frontier towns.

M O T I V A T I O N

Colette is already walking her destined path. She goes where she is needed, so that she may fight on behalf of those who cannot. She will serve justice to the wicked using any means necessary, even if she has to get her hands dirty. She is quick to judge evildoers, but she is not an executioner. Villains must be made to understand the gravity of their crimes while they are alive, and thus she subjects them to a fitting punishment.

I N V E N T O R Y

Most of her equipment is supplied by the order. Colette carries whatever weapons and armor she needs to fulfill her duties at any given time. Among her personal effects she has a diary and a chest full of letters from her friends and siblings. She likes to collect random curios such as oddly shaped rocks or petrified teeth. Perhaps one of her ancestors was a Yasoi.

S T R E N G T H S & S K I L L S

❖ Battle hardened
Colette has been in dozens of engagements and has the nerves of a combat veteran.
❖ Skilled with many weapons
She is mainly a swordfighter, but she also possesses an aptitude for hammers, polearms, and even bows.
❖ Tireless
Colette marches like nobody's business. A ten mile hike is a recreational activity to her.
❖ Strong visual memory
Rarely gets lost in the woods.
❖ Good cook
Surprise?

W E A K N E S S E S & F L A W S

❖ Restless
She cannot seem to sit still. Possible ADHD.
❖ Nosy
Won't leave people alone when they're troubled, even if they want to be.
❖ Honey allergy
Breaks into hives. Honey mead is her favorite drink...
❖ Terrible drunk
Really rowdy and annoying if she reaches her limit. Pukes a lot.
❖ Mild Catoptrophobia
She is irrationally afraid of mirrors, only in dark rooms.

M I S C E L L A N E O U S

She suffers from the duality of being married to her job while secretly hoping to raise a family. She doesn't know it, but men avoid her because of her drunken rampages.

She is a member of the Century, an elite army of 100 magi summoned to defend Ersand'Enise in times of great danger.

Colour Code: E2E2CF

Code Vein (Closed)

---

Huh? It’s just a stupid mutt. The “beast” that came to ambush Dallas was nothing more than a wild dog. Standing about 20 inches tall, the stray collie was covered in shaggy, matted hair and had a serious overbite. It was hard to tell, but the revenant was convinced he saw some fleas jumping around on its head. It was by every meaning of the word, ugly. Dallas lowered his weapon and knelt down. He patiently waited to see what the mutt would do.

Rather than approach him, the collie walked over to the mound of dirt nearby. As it did so, Dallas noticed that the dog had an obvious limp. He looked it over from a distance and spotted a clump of dark red fur near the dog’s hindquarters. So that was the blood he’d been smelling.

”Was this your owner? You must have really liked them, huh? Sorry, I didn’t have time to build a casket.” Dallas gazed sympathetically at the former pet as it circled around the spot where its master was buried. It really sucked to have a revenant’s nose at times like these. The dog stank. It must have been hovering around this place since the human passed away. A small part of him wanted to help the dog out, but wasting medical supplies on an animal he had no intention of raising would be a poor economic decision.

Anyways, I better get out of here. I’ve wasted enough time as is. Dallas took stock of his equipment one last time and then left the grave behind him, accompanied only by the cries of a lonely canine companion.

---

Dallas reached the edge of Tranquilo not too long after his encounter in the field. At first the only indication he was inside the town limit was a solitary gas station. It was tempting to storm into the convenience store and grab himself a couple of beers, but he was low on bag space and didn’t want to be drunk on a solo mission. There wasn’t much else to see for a few minutes besides the tallish buildings in the distance where the bulk of the town had been developed.

The first place he passed through seemed to be an old residential zone. There were a couple of rows of houses that looked like they were brand new in the 1960s. Dallas thought to himself that the place was so run down, it might have been abandoned even before the apocalypse. Once in a while he encountered a thrall wandering aimlessly about, but with a few swings of his battle axe he had the street to himself again.

Ah shit, where am I even going? The Nest didn’t have any maps of this town. I should backtrack… Dallas turned around and retraced his steps towards one of the gas stations he’d passed by. When the place was within visual range he instinctively took cover behind a conveniently placed wreck. The gas station was no longer empty; there was a dark gray pickup truck parked next to one of the pumps. There was a man in the driver’s seat and two outside the vehicle. A fourth person, a woman, was keeping watch with a DIY gun turret mounted on the truck bed.

What have they got there? A thirty cal? Fifty? Dallas calmly observed the party of four from a distance, well out of range of human perception. There were several actions he could take here. He could leave without a word and risk taking a bullet later in the event of an accidental encounter. He could go and greet them, and risk taking a bullet if they were bandits. Finally, he could kill them all first since they might try to shoot him either way. No matter what scenario Dallas imagined, he couldn’t see himself not getting shot today. Unvetted strangers made him paranoid. While he thought the situation over, he noticed an odd sound coming from behind. It sounded like… Cerise’s teleportation ability! The burly revenant crouched down ready to jump out of the danger zone, but he was a microsecond slower than whoever was behind him.

Click.

”...” Big D had been held up enough times to know the sound of a hammer being cocked. In a way it was a good sound to hear. It meant whoever had the gun pointed at you wasn’t aiming to kill on sight. He stood as still as possible and waited for the perpetrator to say something first.

”Toss your weapon.” Dallas complied and chucked his axe into the dirt out of arm’s reach.

”Lie down on the ground. Hands where I can see them.” Dallas got on his stomach and put his hands on his head. He twisted himself as best he could to see what the gunman’s face looked like, but the man had a black ski mask wrapped around his face.

Does this guy think he’s a special forces operator or something? What a joker. The humor he felt inside didn’t reach Dallas’s face. The stone faced revenant observed that the interloper wasn’t patting him down for weapons or anything. How laid back. As much as he wanted to make a sarcastic remark here, it was probably not a good idea to antagonize the other person as long as he remained empty handed.

”Just stay the fuck there until my people are finished. We don’t want any trouble, but take note. Your life means nothing to me. Don't try anything."

"Sure." Jackass. If he really wanted to he could probably kill the guy, but Dallas played it cool. Poppy always got mad when he came home full of holes. That thought was enough to maintain his self control.

Code Vein (Closed)

---

Location and time undetermined, X miles away from Tranquilo

---

Dallas had been running through a field of wild grass for some time to avoid the main road when he unexpectedly tripped over a hidden obstacle. The accident caused him to land face first on the ground, earning him a cut lip as a result. After shaking the pain off and swearing a few times the burly man was able to recollect himself. He brushed the dead plant matter away from his clothes and went about gathering some of his belongings that he’d dropped in the process of falling. As he did so, he found himself tracing back to the spot where he first stumbled.

”Oh…” It wasn’t a rock that Dallas tripped on. It was a corpse. An old one to be sure, it had clearly been baking in the sun for at least a couple weeks. The desiccated, nearly skeletal remains didn’t even have flies picking at it anymore. There wasn’t enough left to determine a sex, although the hair that was left on the skull was ambiguously long.

Anything useful? Dallas’s eyes were drawn to the stranger’s hands first. In their left was a smashed up hand radio. In their right, a snub-nose revolver. When he checked the cylinder of the weapon it turned out to be empty. This person had died fighting for their life. If they had communication equipment then they hadn’t come alone. Maybe they were part of a team that was investigating Tranquilo, which was now only a few miles away by Dallas’s estimation. There was a ragged looking backpack on the body too, which he spent a good minute or so looting in case the person was carrying valuables. Canned goods, some moldy juice bottles, a multi-tool... it was a very standard travel kit. Nothing worth wasting pocket space on besides some extra bandages and antiseptic he could give to Poppy later.

A strange sense of melancholy came over him as Dallas pilfered the dead person's belongings. There were always bodies in the city. Hundreds of them in fact. But for this one to be all by itself with nobody to care... it was too sad. They had died recently too, so they weren't just a leftover casualty from the end of the world. With that feeling compelling him, the soft hearted man took off the shoulder straps and shrugged off his jacket, then proceeded to awkwardly clear some dirt away with his axe blade. If nothing else, he'd give the deceased something resembling a burial. The task took longer than it normally would have given the unsuitable tool he was using.

But why are they this far away from the road, and what killed them? Did someone, or something drag them here? With the overgrowth it wasn’t possible to spot footprints, and even if there were subtle clues they weren’t something Dallas had the capability of picking up on. Maybe Ajax or Akaia would have figured something out.

The lone revenant wouldn’t need to answer the question himself though. He could hear the grass rustling in the distance. He could smell the stink of coagulated blood. Whatever man or beast was responsible for this slaying, they were still here, and they were stalking Dallas. He stood up from his kneeling position and squeezed his fingers tightly around his battle axe.

O R I F L A M M E

---

Scenario: Best Served Cold
Interactions: None

---

Gerard sat still atop the rock with his staff resting on his lap. In order to keep himself awake, he took a bundle of dry holly leaves hidden in his satchel and stuffed it in his cheek. Most of his comrades were trying to make the best of things and rest inside the boats, but the warrior priest found himself suffocated by sea sickness. He chose to wait the storm out by sharpening himself with meditation instead. It was completely dark out now, and the sound of rain and thunder made hearing nearly impossible. Though the rain was freezing cold, his steely nerves slowly grew numb to it. For those of a certain disposition, the deafening white noise gave a measure of comfort. Gerard was truly alone with his thoughts.

Despite his calm outward appearance, Gerard’s spirit was in turmoil. For the past couple of days he thought of nothing but the defeats he suffered in the battle for Relouse. Twice he had engaged in single combat with the Eskandr, and twice he had been cast aside by magic that far outstripped his own. To lose against the king of a nation was perhaps to be expected - but for the same to be true against a girl who wasn’t even his own age… the memory filled him with a mixture of rage and envy. For the gods to grant such power to blasphemers who only spoke their names in curses, Gerard thought he must still be lacking something as a servant. For the moment at least.

No! I have the requisite knowledge. It should be possible for me to use the same techniques they do. I just need more practice! The red Rezaindian extended his sixth sense out to sea, mentally submitting himself to the boundless fury of the ocean waves. It had been a long time since he’d opened his mind to such a massive amount of force. The years he had spent exploring the secrets of Ipte’s fire seemed regrettable now. How much could he have accomplished if he hadn’t been so narrow minded in his arcane pursuits? But the time for self depreciation was over. He had done that plenty the entire way here.

Gerard tugged on the energy current and allowed a sliver of it to enter his body, gradually feeding his manas the sustenance they craved. He had to be careful not to let the waves overwhelm him. While the sun was an endless source of magical power, its intensity was always the same. It was predictable. Here, the mountainous waves ebbed and flowed without a pattern. He had to alter the flow constantly, and it required all his focus to avoid overdrawing.

The priest did not draw himself to capacity. He channeled the collected energy into his staff, causing it to float up to eye level. And that was it. All he did was levitate the magical instrument for the next several hours, persevering through the night until sunrise. It was a very basic, very important form of training that allowed his cells to grow accustomed to drawing on force once again. No matter what technique he tried on the fire witch, it would have to come out fast in order to be remotely effective. This had to become second nature so that he could quickly turn the bitch's magic against her.

---

”Act natural. You and I will be a family during our short stay in this… place. I am just a soldier who came back home to bring his daughter to the capital.” Gerard picked Maud up and allowed her to wrap her arms around his neck. In order to remain inconspicuous, the priest had exchanged his usual robes with more appropriate attire. As the longboat approached the pier, he gritted his teeth. It was important that he opened his mouth only when necessary, for his accented Eskandish would expose his origins if spoken too liberally.

Moments ago, Gerard nearly called the village something else but managed to hold his tongue. The Eskandish converts might be on the side of Parrence now, but that did not mean they despised their homeland. Even he had the good sense not to speak ill of it in their presence.

When the group rendezvoused with the dockman, a posse of children stormed the pier and began to harass them with a salvo of irritating questions. Gerard did his best to ignore the brats and wade past them, but one of the miscreants insisted on tugging on his pants and forcing his attention.

”Hey mister, how many of them did you kill? There was a second where Gerard gazed down at the boy with a look of disdain, but he had to keep a lid on it. Without his hood to obscure his face it would be easy to see his disgust. The zealot closed his eyes and filled his lungs with air. He slowly released the breath. He was calm.

Without letting go of Maud, Gerard knelt down so that he was face to face with the little snot. He curled his lips into a nefarious grin and whispered so that any prying ears could hardly hear.

"I killed at least a dozen of them boyo. Roasted ‘em alive just like this.” Gerard breathed a puff of flame right over the boy’s head. The kid put his hands on his head in surprise and yelped before scurrying a few feet away. Just then the dock’s owner began shooing the children away, and within seconds the disturbance had passed. From then on the ‘captain’ silently nodded along while his comrades did the talking for him. Reassuringly, the man named Birger appeared to be on their side. In order to avoid the rats crawling about, the expeditionary force would hold their briefing in a hideout recommended by the mole. On the surface he was agreeable, but in the back of his mind, Gerard couldn’t help but hold suspicions about a possible trap.

The Hourglass Order

---

A not so vigilant watch

---

”I spy with my little eye… something shiny.”

Yalen shaded his eyes with his hand and squinted. From where he and Isabella stood atop the wall, they had an overhead view of half the complex. Her first hint was fairly broad, as to be expected. From the shimmer of the oasis to the painted windows of the Darhannic chapel, there were dozens of objects that could count as the game winning answer.

Since he was unlikely to get it his first try, Yalen took a blind guess. ”Um… is it the weather vane?” He pointed at the dragon shaped instrument spinning around on top of one of the administrative buildings.

”Nope. Your next hint is: someone is wearing it.” Isabella pushed her glasses up with her pinky finger. It was quite the generous hint for a second guess, but the pair of tethered had agreed on a three strikes rule for this game. Even with that much Yalen had a good chance of losing.

”Alright then, how about… that guard’s helmet?” The younger of the two pointed his finger at a watchman patrolling in the distance. The angle of the sun was such that a bright spot shone on the soldier’s plated headwear. Isabella crossed her arms in an ‘X’ and shook her head.

”Wrong again! Last hint: it’s closer than you think.”

Close by? Hm. Yalen scanned his eyeballs around the immediate vicinity. There weren’t actually that many people around. Almost everyone was occupied with attending the talks with the Duke or taking care of all the men he’d brought with him. With that in mind, the young monk felt that he had the correct answer figured out.

”It’s your glasses.” Isabella had nearly tricked him. Maybe she thought he wouldn’t suspect her person as being part of the game. It was a clever ruse.

”Wroooooong. You were almost there though.The answer was your robe.” The spectacled girl poked at Yalen’s collar. The golden embroidery shimmered like fine jewelry. To think he’d overlooked the possibility… Isabella had outmatched him.

”Alas, I am beaten.” The priest in training shook his head in defeat. ”Did you want to play another game?” Neither of them had detected the wyrm’s presence, so there was still time to kill.

”Nah, I’m over that. Let’s talk about something.” Isabella scooted her stool closer to Yalen’s.

”Oh? Like what?”

”I don’t know. Anything. You can talk about your school, or… your friends… hey, you’re going to be a priest someday right? Tell me more about that.” The inquisitive gaze of the apprentice secretary bore into Yalen’s head. It made him a tad uncomfortable; he still wasn’t used to being so thoroughly examined by someone. He scratched his cheek and gave her a nervous smile.

”I don’t mind, but there is much I can talk about. You may find it a tiresome subject. Priesthood isn’t just a job. If you set yourself on the path you’re committing yourself for life. We’re talking about a decision that shaped most of my childhood.” When he saw his watch partner pull out a pad and start taking notes, a bead of sweat trickled down Yalen’s forehead.

”So you started pretty early then?”

”All the kids in my orphanage were given lessons on the scriptures since we were five or six years old. I have always loved the Creator, but I didn’t devote myself to him fully until shortly after my eighth birthday. I didn’t know what I was asking for when I told my honorable brothers that I wished to join the brotherhood. There is so much you have to learn. A seminarian has to study theology and philosophy for years just to enter the lowest ranks of the priesthood. Besides that you also need to study the tenets of your specific organization. As a prospective member of the Brotherhood of Sunset, I must be a practitioner of medicine and a caregiver for the infirm. The extra homework afforded me little time to play with my orphan siblings. Even now, I have only committed a fraction of the required knowledge to memory.”

”So there are different orders among the Quentics?” Isabella tapped her pen against her chin.

”Yes, there are several. The five gods are each honored by their own order of worshippers, and each order is further divided into five sects. These sects are unified in the worship of their patron deity, but they each embody an individual part of their god’s personality.”

”I see…” Izzy was scribbling notes as fast as Yalen could talk. Though he found her behavior a bit odd, he was flattered that someone was this interested in his words. When there was a short pause in the conversation, the pigtailed girl poked at his chest, or more specifically the holy icon hung around his neck. ”What’s this for? It looks expensive.”

”This? It’s a present from my dad. The shape is of the setting sun to express my allegiance to the brotherhood. I didn’t ask how much it cost to make. It already weighs heavily on my neck as is.”

”You were talking about being an orphan, yes? Someone adopted you?”

”Charles Castel. He is the abbot of the monastery and the second son of the noble Castel family. He’s taken such good care of me. My aunts and uncles are too busy with politics to visit very often, but they’re good people too. I couldn’t be happier.”

”Jeez, try not to lay it on too thick.” Isabella crossed her arms and feigned indignance.

”Oops. Sorry.” Yalen tried to think of a new direction to steer the conversation for a second, but then he felt something brush against his mental probe. ”Wait, do you sense that?” His fellow tethered shut her eyes and concentrated.

”...Yeah. Yeah! I sense it. By the gods, it’s huge! So this is the king of the desert.”

”It’s not coming this way though. Should we still report it?”

”Let me think. If it’s going the way we know it’s going then - oh shit. Oh shit oh shit oh shit.”

Yalen put his hand on Izzy’s shoulder. ”What is it?”

”Hosta! The dragon is going towards Hosta! Let’s go, we gotta warn the others!”

Code Vein (Closed)

---

"...I will." Dallas wrapped his fingers around the dagger's hilt with a certain degree of reverence. He did not take things from others lightly. He mentally took note of Poppy's unusually soft demeanor today. Perhaps Cerise's departure was affecting her more deeply than he realized.

"Hey you two." Dallas turned around to see Desmond approaching them. "I overheard that you're looking for some hands with fixing the window Dallas. I think I will stay behind and organize the storage room and see if anyone else wants to help with fixing the window." The male revenant shook his head at the offer.

"Nah, don't worry about it. It looks like everyone's hands are full. Thanks though." Dallas gave the two a polite farewell before making himself scarce. He wouldn't need to do any elaborate preparation for the trip. Poppy's first aid kit would be enough since he would be more likely to run from danger rather than confront it. Like she said, this was not a job of vital importance to the Commune. It wasn't worth risking his neck.

Dallas made his way to the storage wing to retrieve his axe from its mount. The bolted on metal strip holding the shaft together made a grating sound as he lifted it over his shoulder. The thought that he might have to say farewell to his trusty weapon gave him pause. Armaments suitable for slaying the bigger Lost were hard to come by, especially at this size. The fact that the axe was about to break despite the quality of its materials went to show how much force Dallas put into his attacks. Besides his weapon, he also took a travel bag and a pair of shoulder straps for carrying furniture. The last thing he did was tie Poppy's dagger to the side of his leg, though it was his hope that it wouldn't be needed for anything more serious than cutting some rope or cloth.

I would sooner fight bare handed than swing around a toothpick like Erik does. The last thing he needed was a map. Dallas visited the planning room and borrowed one of the smaller ones, circling a town nearby that wasn't connected to the main road of the Crow's Nest. It was called Tranquilo, though whether that was an appropriate name or not was up to the number of Lost wandering around there.

Dallas banged on the wall after reaching the front door to let everyone know he was leaving before sprinting down the hill. When he returned he would hopefully have a replacement for the broken window and maybe some other niceties on the side.

O R I F L A M M E

---

Locations: Relouse - > The Archbishop's Residence

---

”Nobody here has seen him either.” Tristan closed the door to the pub behind him before rejoining Misha back on the street. The two Rezaindians pulled their hoods up to shield against the drizzle pouring from overhead and began traveling to the next most likely spot. They were in search of their master Gerard, who they were unable to rendezvous with after getting cut off by the Eskandr. The two apprentices had fled back behind the walls some time before he was defeated by Thorunn Silverhair. They were at this moment unaware of his fate.

”He had to have made it back. Maybe he’s helping to dispose of the bodies. We should check outside again.” Misha clasped her hands nervously in front of her. Her colleague shook his head. ”Come on, we were out there since the sun came up. We would be wasting our time.” ”Well we’ve searched every gathering place in Relouse! The only option we have left is to start searching individual households!” The stress of the search was starting to show on Misha’s face. Her breath quickened as anxiety threatened to overwhelm her.

”Master Castellooo! Where are you!” She cried into the air, startling several passerby. The young woman lost the will to stand and collapsed to her knees, trying unsuccessfully to hold back the tears. Tristan watched helplessly as his partner quietly sobbed into her hands, unsure of how to comfort her.

”By the gods, if you keep screaming like that, you’ll finish the job that Eskandr bitch started!” A familiar voice shouted nearby. The two acolytes turned their heads to find their master leaned against the side of a house, hidden under the shade of its thatch rooftop. The older mage let out a silent yawn as he stretched his tired arms, having been woken up by his noisy apprentice.

”Master!” ”Master!” Gerard was too weak to stand up and thus couldn’t avoid the arms of his students. The two squeezed him into a group hug that threatened to crack his freshly healed ribs, causing him to grunt in pain. He didn’t mind that much. After staring death in the face twice, the pain was proof that he was alive. The three of them had made it through the first and possibly deadliest battle in the entire war. By Echeran’s mercy they survived, and that at least was something worth celebrating. Gerard’s mouth turned up into a smile - He grabbed his students’ robes and pulled them closer.

---

After a full day of magical therapy from his loyal follower Tristan, Gerard was once again in fighting shape. He would have to be, for today he had been summoned by the king himself to the home of the Archbishop. Why he had been called for he did not know, for he had failed at everything he tried to do during the defense of Relouse. Were they that impressed by his ability to get thrown around by Force mages? The Rezaindian master did not let self depreciation stay his feet.

Gerard stopped in front of the door and addressed his apprentices. ”Wait here. I will be back shortly.” Upon entering the Archbishop’s residence, he got down on his knees and pressed his forehead against the floor. After paying his respects, Gerard quickly made his way to the meeting place as instructed.

Twenty five seats were arranged around a circular red table, with the king and queen of Parrence sitting on opposite ends of it. A couple other warriors had already taken their places as well. Gerard recognized the armored giant hovering near King Arcel but did not know his name. Using the king as a reference point, he took the 9 o’ clock position at the table and seated himself quietly. More soldiers shuffled in until the table was completely full, some words were exchanged, and then Arcel and Eleanor delivered their briefing.

Gerard smirked with delight at the idea of destroying the barbarian’s capital city. Setting a bunch of wooden shacks ablaze sounds like child’s play for a half decent Arcanist. Now I understand why his Majesty called me here.

The Hourglass Order

---

"Mistuh Yawen?" Yalen felt a hand tug on his sleeve and turned away from Ayla and Jocasta. Little Rita was waiting there behind him, and this time she wasn’t smiling. "That wasn't juss a show, was it?" The color drained from his face as the young priest understood the subtext hidden within the girl’s question. Before he could come up with another half baked excuse to conceal the deception, Rita pressed him further. "Caretaker Manazes nevuh does shows fow us." She said while shaking her head.

Yalen was speechless. He wasn’t ready to explain the concept of life and death to a child, but perhaps she already understood it to some extent. That was just the kind of place a refuge was. It would only hurt her more if he didn’t tell the truth.

”...Yeah, you’re right. Manazes wasn’t playing with you. He was a bad man. Me and my friends came here to get rid of the bad men, okay? We’ll protect you no matter what, I promise.” Yalen wrapped his arms around Rita and gave her a big hug. When she began to cry, he held her head against his chest and rubbed her back. The clouds were becoming thicker, and the light drizzle was slowly becoming a downpour. Yalen took Rita into his arms and carried her somewhere more sheltered from the rain. Even if the game was up, he knew better than to reveal the full picture. He could feel the signs of life fading here and there as some of the tethered took the ultimate revenge on their tormentors. Perhaps some of the residents had also fallen during the coup. What would Rita say if she knew the cost of her freedom?

Dami forgive us.

---

Post Coup - Day One

Location: Caretaker's Quarters

The coup was over, but there was still a tough road ahead for the sanctuary and its residents. The maddened wyrm was still out there somewhere swimming through the sand, invisible to anyone except those with the sensing range of the tethered. A handful of Biros would not be enough to stop the dragon’s rampage. The tethered had to stand up for themselves if there was to be any hope of survival, but they had been repressed for years. Not a single one of them could use magic intentionally, save for the “special” few like Jocasta and Marci. Though they weren’t Zenos, some of those from Ersand’Enise had to become teachers to these people. Yalen had been surprised to see more of his fellow students arrive through Hugo’s portal. They were basically strangers but he did recognize their faces, and some of them he’d even spoken to briefly in class. Since there was so much work to do though, the opportunity to socialize didn’t present itself.

It was around 4 HO in the afternoon and the priest in training was presently standing inside an empty bedroom, one that used to belong to a caretaker that now sat in jail. The space had been cleared of furniture so that about two dozen chairs could be lined up in two rows. Yalen paced back and forth nervously in anticipation of those who would soon be arriving. Around the half hour mark, the bedroom door opened and a small gathering of tethered residents shuffled inside. Some of them could walk like Yalen and Marci. Some rode wheelchairs like Jocasta. All of them were younger than 18 years old.

The introductions could be skipped - the residents would have been briefed on the situation before coming here. After exchanging a few polite “hellos” and “good afternoons”, everyone took their seats and settled in. Yalen looked appraisingly at his ‘class’, and they looked at him. He felt like he was about to proselytize in front of a church gathering.

Goodness, where should I even begin? The blonde youth cleared his throat and took a deep abdominal breath. ”Well, you probably already know, but my name is Yalen Castel. I wish I could conduct this lesson more casually, but we are already on borrowed time. If you’re here then you know what’s at stake.” Some murmurs of acknowledgement filled the room. ”In order to become an effective militia you will need to learn magic, and though I am unworthy of teaching you the task has fallen to me nonetheless.”

Yalen walked between the rows of chairs and passed out handwritten memos detailing the process of spellcasting. The section labeled “Reading” was clearly circled. The teenagers silently read the document for a couple minutes. One of them occasionally had to ask their neighbor how to read a word or two. Another said every word out loud as if they couldn’t hold the letters in their head.

”If we were in a real classroom I would have started by explaining the origin of magic and all sorts of other things, but this is something of a crash course. The most essential thing to understand is that the organisms responsible for your disease are also a weapon you can utilize, and we need you to learn how starting today. Those organisms are called Manas, and by tapping into the symbiotic relationship between Manas and the human body, you can impose your will on the world and produce magic.” Yalen accented his words by holding his hand over a candle. The tethered looked in wonder as the wick seemed to ignite on its own. A wheelchaired girl with brown pigtails raised her hand.

“Mister, how do we know if we’re strong enough to use magic or not?”

”Don’t worry,” Yalen reassured her, ”we’re reasonably confident in your abilities. If you’re suffering from the illness this much then you should have some kind of aptitude for magic, even if it’s the most basic forms.” He walked to the back of the room and dragged out a wooden box. Those who were close enough to peer inside would see that it was full of loose cloth and cotton balls. ”Before you can cast a spell, you need to find an energy source to power it. It can be almost anything. Sunlight, the ocean’s waves, and even bolts of lightning are just a handful of examples. The process of locating useable energy with your mind is called ‘reading’, and it is an ability we possess thanks to the existence of mana in our bodies.”

Yalen passed out the contents of the box so that each resident had a set. ”There are many methods for discovering your third eye, but the one I am following is something that my own father used on me.” He picked up the lit candle and held it in front of himself. ”To encourage your brain to rely on other senses, you shall block your sight and hearing using what I have given you. If you like you can plug your noses as well. The idea is to lose as many of your senses as possible so that your subconscious is forced to use reading instead. Those who pass the test will move on to the next step.” Again there were confused murmurs. Another individual raised their hand questioningly.

”Yes?” ”And what if… what if we fail to sense anything?” Yalen nodded towards the man. ”Ah, that is a prudent question. It pains me to say it, but if you can’t accomplish this in at least half an hour then I’ll need you to go back to your quarters. I only have a brief time to teach you, and learning the skill of drawing will be even harder than this. Now, without further delay, please put on your blindfolds and plug your ears. Once you have done that I am going to place this candle somewhere in the room, and you must find it with reading. Focus as hard as you can. When the time is up, I will ask you one by one where you think it is…”

---

Yalen appeared satisfied with himself as he left the caretaker’s quarters. The tethered had already cleared away, leaving the young priest alone with his own thoughts. Fifteen of the twenty four had been able to pinpoint the candle’s location. Seven washed out honestly. Two tried to peek and were gently scolded. Those who passed would come back tomorrow so that he could explain to them how to draw. Having an army of tethered working together to steal energy out of the wyrm’s body would be a significant asset to the refuge’s defense. In the meantime, Yalen gave them the rest of the day to practice. For his part, he spent the rest of the day making himself useful around the refuge. Despite the danger looming over their heads, life had to go on, and there were a lot of chores to take care of. Yalen found himself keeping one of the staff company cleaning dirty clothes and bed sheets. He received pointers on how to wash laundry until nightfall.

---

Night Two

Location: Atop the walls

The first hour of Dami had come, and the sun’s rays were only visible as a faint orange glow over the horizon. As one of the few properly trained tethered on the premises, Yalen had been asked to assist the night watch with surveying the area for signs of the sand wyrm. Jocasta and Marceline would be quite busy taking care of other matters while the residents were looking promising, they needed to focus on their training. So, in spite of his desire to head to bed early the soft hearted cleric reluctantly gave his consent. Realistically he would only be expected to help out for an hour or two. Surely even an aberration mad wyrm had to go dormant at night, right?

And so Yalen ended up on duty atop the walls. The guards went out of their way to accommodate him somewhat since he was just a student. He was given a rather comfortable chair, and one of the troops lent him their lantern for light and warmth. While the normal guards actively patrolled the complex, Yalen’s only job was to reach out with his mind and warn everyone if he detected a giant dragon tunneling towards the walls.

As usual, the desert was quite cold at night. The wind sent chills down Yalen’s spine every time it brushed his skin, and once in a while he could see his breath turning into crystals. He kept his lantern close at hand and fed it thermal energy every now and again to keep his fingers from going numb.

The watch was uneventful. The tethered boy felt nothing but wildlife beyond the sanctuary walls. When he really focused, he could find an endless number of creatures hidden underneath the sands. From the largest Froabass to the smallest snake, the deserts of Torragon were full of life. At one point, Yalen spent several minutes following a nocturnal cheetah as it hunted for prey amongst the dunes. Occasionally his concentration was shaken by the clinking of chainmail when a guard walked past him.

Yalen soon grew tired of sitting and got up to lean forward against the sandstone parapet. As it gradually got darker, four of the five moons revealed themselves in the night sky, all in varying phases of waxing or waning. The Dordian monk was momentarily entranced by the sight of Juni, whose aquamarine fissures glimmered in the distant Alosi sunglow. The comforting presence of his god’s moon filled him with inner peace.

For no particular reason, Yalen reached into one of his pockets and felt for something there. He had forgotten all about Rita’s present! The object felt hard and smooth. He closed his hand around it and pulled it out. What he found was a beautiful white shell, much like the ones grown by large land snails. When he thought about the little Segonese girl, Yalen’s heart quivered with regret. There would be an entire sea separating the two of them when he went back to Ersand’Enise. He never thought he could grow so attached to a kid he’d met only days ago. He quietly promised to find her again if he was still healthy enough to do so in the future. Yalen held the gift to his forehead and closed his eyes. The shell slowly twisted its shape as magic flowed through his body. When the priest was finished, Rita’s snail shell had been transformed into a pair of signet rings, sized just right for a young man’s index fingers. One bore the engraving of a setting sun. On the other, an image of Juni in her full phase. Yalen gingerly placed the rings onto his hands and admired them in the cool lantern light.

---

Day Three

Location: Bedroom

Yalen roused himself for his morning prayers at the same time he always did. Last night’s watch took its toll on him as he struggled to open his eyes and crawl out of bed. For a moment he desired nothing more than to drink straight out of Zarina’s coffee gourd until it was empty. He had detected the wyrm several times within his several kilometer radius, but never did it make a move to approach the refuge. Its travel path appeared completely random, maddened as it was by the aberration.

After finishing his worship, Yalen cleansed himself and got dressed like normal. He noticed that there was a small note tucked into his robe pocket that wasn’t there before. Who could have been responsible for putting it there? Despite how odd it was, Yalen felt compelled to unfurl the scrap of paper and read what was on it.

You should have killed him.

The note disappeared in a puff of flame as Yalen disposed of it. He already knew who left it there. Why was the Traveler so insistent on disturbing his peace? Weren’t they afraid that he would expose them? Perhaps they had already dealt with such a possibility in the past. Maybe Yalen should have considered himself lucky that the Traveler was content to merely watch events unfold rather than directly intervene.

In order to set his mind right Yalen went back to praying at his bedside once more. The priest in training was halfway through his silent conversation when a knocking on the door broke his concentration.

”Who could it be this early in the morning?” Yalen wondered out loud. He got up from his seat and limped over to the door, not yet wearing any leg support. When he opened it, he was met by a freckled girl with reddish brown hair. Yalen needed a second to remember her name.

”Miss… Laelle?” ”1:00 Shune. Great Baths. Get ready as soon as possible.”

Short version

Yalen spends the time leading up to the Duque's arrival training the residents and keeping watch for the sand wyrm. He makes himself some nice bling out of a snail shell.

O R I F L A M M E

This is my revised CS for Oriflamme, submitted for review. @Force and Fury

Gèrard Castello

Gèrard Castello__ _ _ _ _

30 | MALE | PARRENCE | ARCANE - ??? - ??? | PRIEST__ _ _ _ _

“Fire washes sin off the soul.”

C H A R A C T E R I S T I C S__ _ _ _ _

There is not much to say about his appearance, for Gèrard is not a man you recognize for his heroic stature. He possesses a fair skin tone and adequate musculature. He has a stern face, and his head is clean shaven. Gerard dresses like a typical Rezaindian priest, and is rarely seen wearing anything but the robes of his order.

To his allies, Gèrard may appear aloof. Unless there is a goal to accomplish he rarely has much to say, and sometimes even appears bored by regular conversation. The only times he seems to speak at length are when he is praying or giving someone instructions. He is truthfully very introverted and feels more at peace doing what he wants to do without the suffocating presence of others. His social circle is small, but each relationship is quite deep.

Gèrard is a warrior now, but his scholarly nature still remains. He has not let hubris consume him, and is always prepared to accept new knowledge. What he lacks in youth he makes up for with persistence and discipline. When attempting to understand a new concept or learn a new skill, Gèrard can spend hours toiling away in his study or practicing wherever is convenient. He is not above asking others for assistance in this respect, and he even seeks the expertise of commoners when necessary.

Despite being a fairly reserved person, Gèrard exhibits a darker side when battling against the Eskandr, for it is they who set him on the path of vengeance. He feels a sick sense of satisfaction any time he manages to kill one of them. Drudgunze is exempt from this hostility, though Gèrard doesn’t necessarily trust the cousins of his sworn enemies. He justifies his wariness by pointing out the number of Drudgunzeans that have pledged their services to Hrothgar.

B A C K G R O U N D__ _ _ _ _

As the fifth son of the noble Castello family, Gèrard had no expectations of inheriting his family’s lands or titles. Like any nobleman, he could have wormed his way into a comfortable seat of authority via bribery and nepotism, but in pursuit of self actualization Gèrard turned his eye towards a more virtuous lifestyle. At the age of 13 he declared to his family his intention of becoming a religious scholar, and with no reason to refuse his parents arranged for him to join the Stresian priesthood.

It was known that on the Ensollian coastline, there lay an ancient landmark that existed since the times of the old empire. It was a Stresian monastery, home to a group of thaumaturges that sought complete understanding of the natural elements. The reclusive researchers living there were reluctant but, after receiving a generous donation from the head of the Castello family, the servants of Shune agreed to raise young Gèrard as one of their own. Maybe they figured he would soon grow tired of the ascetic lifestyle and go home, leaving them with plenty of gold with which to pursue their studies.

Contrary to everyone’s expectations, Gèrard was happy there. He secretly hated living under the expectations of the nobility. Away from the pretentious feasts and stuffy etiquette, the youngest son of the Castello family was able to flourish and focus purely on his personal development. After a few weeks went by it became clear that the nobleman was there to stay, and the monks began to teach him in earnest. Gèrard drank in knowledge like water. He was not some stereotypical genius, but he was unusually determined in his studies. He always had a disturbing number of questions to ask his mentors, and their frustration grew to the point where they had to take turns each day to supervise him. When they eventually grew tired of answering his endless inquiries, Gèrard holed himself up in the library and read books until the crack of dawn.

And so his life went for many years. Gèrard spent his 14th birthday there, and on the same year he awakened to the Gift. When he was given the wheel test, many of his teachers were embarrassed to find that their student was stronger than they were. Then his 15th went by, and his 16th... he was old enough to become a sworn member of the order, and he did so with pride. Once in a while he would leave the monastery to fulfill his Stresian duties, like collecting newly recovered texts or investigating some mystical ruin. His regular visits to his family slowed by the time Gèrard was fully grown, and soon he was communicating with them solely through letters. This bothered no-one. He was never the favorite child.

At the age of 26, Gèrard was deep into his study of Arcane magic. He had become a Luminary, the fourth highest rank in the order, and when Tristan and Misha came to the monastery it was decided that he would be their master. The three formed a unique bond together. As the years passed, the two apprentices came to treat each other like siblings, and in a way Gèrard was like their father. Where he used to take pride in his own growth, he now found joy in theirs. While he was always strict with his students, the young master cared for them deeply.

Their peaceful lifestyle was not destined to last. A year after Gèrard met his students, the monastery was suddenly attacked by an unforeseen Eskandr raid. Under the concealment of powerful magic, a warband carrying no flag stormed the complex and began killing everyone who resided there. Why had they come? Were they weakening Parrence in preparation for a full scale invasion? Did they desire the knowledge stored within the centuries old library? There was no way to know. The Eskandr asked no questions nor did they answer them. Every Stresian on the premises was summarily executed, and everything of value was plundered.

A scant few managed to escape the raid, including Gèrard and his two apprentices. That day was the first he had ever used his magic to kill another human being. He had no choice after all. He couldn’t let his beloved students die. Arrows were incinerated in midair and berserkers were cooked inside their own armor as Gèrard fought desperately to break the Eskandr encirclement. When an opening presented itself, the three broke out and fled into the nearby woods. They were not pursued. It was possible that the pirates had gotten what they came for and simply went back home. The escaped found shelter further inland in a nearby town, where they numbly secluded themselves while processing their great loss. A detachment from the local lord attempted to investigate the smoking heap that was once a monastery, but all they found were corpses. No clues were found about the invaders save for their nationality, for an Eskandr longboat had been abandoned on the shore.

It was without question a traumatizing event for the three, but Gèrard suffered the greatest heartbreak of all. He had known the scholars there for over a decade. He knew every single one of their names. He knew their hopes and dreams. They were truly his family and they were now gone forever, including the place he once belonged. Gèrard failed to overcome his grief and move on. As time passed he became obsessed with the idea of vengeance, and though he bid his students abandon him and live their lives peacefully they would not do so. Underneath a darkening sky, the trio made a pact with each other. They would avenge the fallen as one. And so, after days of travel, they prostrated themselves within the halls of a Rezaindian monastery…

I N V E N T O R Y__ _ _ _ _

❖ An ironwood staff inlaid with a crystal sphere
❖ Several bottles of oil and other flammable mediums
❖ An inscribed steel sword of Eskandish origin
❖ A light leather bag containing provisions
❖ The Book of Wrath

T H E G I F T__ _ _ _ _

Blood type: Blackblood, Truecaster
Preferred School: Arcane
Secondary Schools: ???, ???
Wheel rating: 4

Gèrard is a well rounded magician, but he greatly favors Arcane over other schools. As an expert pyromancer, fire and light are like clay in his hands. He has a strong grasp of both offensive and utility spells which makes him competent in any sort of engagement. He often uses special oils and flammable liquids to help augment his casting when there are no significant sources of heat available. Gèrard has exhibited several spells thus far such as channeled arcane lances, light refraction, fire walls, and dragon’s breath. There is still much more in store.

Using other types of magic in battle is something Gèrard has considered and will likely pursue as the war continues, especially after he duels against other elite casters and learns their tricks. He simply needs more opportunities to apply his magical studies to real combat.

S T R E N G T H S & S K I L L S__ _ _ _ _

❖ Stresian Thaumaturge
Gèrard’s theoretical understanding of magic is far higher than the average hedge wizard. While the bulk of his study has been in pursuit of Arcane mastery, he understands the principles behind the other magic schools well enough, and may eventually add them to his repertoire given enough inspiration to do so. The potential of his spells are limited only by his imagination and mana capacity.
❖ Learned
Being a son of nobility and a former Stresian, he is highly educated by the standards of this era.
❖ Daring
He has repeatedly demonstrated willingness to engage enemy champions, regardless of their level of strength or the number of soldiers defending them.
❖ Bilingual
He learned the language of Eskand in order to insult its people in a tongue they can understand.

W E A K N E S S E S & F L A W S__ _ _ _ _

❖ Truecaster’s curse
Like all who possess this blood, Gèrard’s spellcasting options are defined by the energy sources that he can find or make for himself.
❖ Average swordsmanship
Though he carries a blade, Gèrard isn’t a top class duelist. He cannot win a fight against a more skilled swordsman without resorting to magic to bolster his offense.
❖ Untested
Until Hrothgar’s invasion of Parrence, Gèrard’s fighting experience mainly came from training and skirmishing with poorly equipped coastal raiders. He still has much to learn about the art of magical combat.
❖ Vengeful
He has an extremely negative view of southerners. Only the most unlikely circumstances would keep him from trying to attack them on sight.

C O L O U R C O D E & O T H E R__ _ _ _ _

❖ He is a distant ancestor of Charles Castel, Yalen's adoptive father.
❖ F92D00

Code Vein (Closed)

---

Medical Area

After Poppy disappeared to investigate whatever commotion was taking place at the front door, Dallas finished up with the gardening and cleaned the mess left by the spilled lemonade. Digging was thirsty work, and he found himself drinking straight out of the pitcher until it was completely empty. You couldn't beat fresh squeezed. He also tasted something odd in there, and it wasn't the blood that had been added. Did she sprinkle powdered vitamins in the drink?

A little while later Dallas witnessed Poppy drag two people into the medical area. One was an individual that he did not recognize, while the other was Vincent, who had glass shards covering a good portion of his body. Without having to ask any questions, Dallas could somehow make a guess as to what had taken place. When Poppy's attention was focused on the newcomer, Vincent apparently managed to sneak off. The big janitor saw this, but didn't say anything right away.

Dallas let Poppy chat with her patient for a few minutes before politely stepping into the conversation. He glanced at the silhouette behind the medical curtain, taking note of the person's size and shape. The smell of a revenant was unmistakable.

"Hey Poppy, looks like your troublemaker just ran away. I'd offer to go get him but he's probably halfway down the hill by now. Anyways, I'm guessing we need a new window now? I think I'll go ahead and look around the city or one of the smaller towns nearby. If you have any idle hands that need a job I'll gladly take the help, but I'm just as comfortable working solo."