Current
I just can't. This is too much. Berserk was so influential on so many things that I love. Goodbye, Miura. You'll be missed by many.
13
likes
4 yrs ago
Migraines ew
5 yrs ago
Welp apparently discord servers are having some pretty bad Latency issues.
1
like
5 yrs ago
Well I just got my mitts on the Links Awakening remake. Excus eme while I disappear for a weak while I relive my childhood
2
likes
5 yrs ago
Migraine killed me today. Posts tomorrow.
2
likes
Bio
Hello! Welcome to my little bio.
Not much to say, really. Just a horror game protag that likes writing and playing vidya games when I'm not being chased by the cosmic forces of darkness. (I'm a security guard that works night shifts usually).
“I see.” Sorcha smiled ever so slightly. “Well, if you are all in agreement then I shall take my leave. A simple bandit like him should not prove too troublesome to you all. As these are your soldiers, then, Luna, I shall hand over the operation of this assault to you. Now if you’ll excuse me,” She turned to leave, motioning for Gabriel to follow. “Prisoner. Now.”
“U-uh right.” Eager to get away from Luna, Gabriel followed behind the queen. This now just left the three of them to gather their soldiers, put their plan into motion, and then assault the base. It would probably be a bad idea for Luna to take more than a handful of soldiers with her, there was no telling if those bandits would come back or not. Still, it was up to her how many men to take and whether or not to leave many at the base.
The Queen was there, after all. There wasn’t much of a chance something could go wrong, right?
"Oh, and, one more thing," The queen stopped just short of leaving the door as she'd turn briefly back to her knights. "Remember. We also are looking for evidence as to who these bandits and fomorians are both. I don't care how you do it, but bring me some useful information."
As Luna, Fio, and Niall approached the base they would have enough distance for any scouts to see that the bandits had indeed fortified the smashed gate in the time they had. Not enough to completely close it, but enough to set a few wooden walls and other defensive structures to curtail the efforts of a large scale potential assault, likely they were expecting the full might of the Lightsword forces soon.
A number of bandits were scurrying around outside, hefting and constructing more structures, trying to build the wall in as little amount of time as possible in a vain attempt to finish before they were assaulted. Needless to say lookouts were also present, keeping watch for any immediate signs of the Lightsword or any other army coming to deal with them.
No sign of the fomorian or the one named Annagan either. No telling where they were at, though they were likely hiding in the structure somewhere, waiting for things to start or overseeing their little base here.
Otherwise, the base was exactly the same as Niall had left it last night. Bandits stood upon the palisades, armed and ready. It was just a matter now of starting the assault and executing the queens orders.
Aside from whatever else that Vita mentions when she makes a post here I'd just want to mention a few things myself.
First, lemme say the sheet as a whole isn't bad. Powers and personality seem to fit the setting well enough. What doesn't though, is the backstory you've mentioned.
Yeah, the city Leannan probably wouldn't exist in Thaln. How would a classless city would necessarily come around in a kingdom that is heavily feudal based in the first place? I feel personally its a bit of a contradiction to say its classless and then immediately say that they have a ruling party, though this nitpicking is kind of a small thing on my part. The biggest issue is that the city just likely wouldn't exist in Thaln in the first place.
Secondly...there's...some information missing I'd like explained. Summoning is fine...but what malicious and bad things has his parents done? It seems like you mentioned it in a single sentence and then never again. Feels like a missed opportunity and should really be explained further since well, it could really mess with both the backstory itself as well as the family ICly.
Thirdly - yeah and this is my opinion and not sure what Vita thinks of it - I don't think being the reincarnation of the moon goddess would probably be a thing people talked about. Pretty sure the Goddess herself may take offense to it since she still exists.
Location: ????? @Pyromania99 As Akyasha stepped off the path and into the alleyway, perhaps, she might have briefly reconsidered her steps. The path soon narrowed only a few steps away from the mainroad, little rats scurrying past her into the maze like path in front of her, the old stones of Alavaris beneath her as the groans and wails of the undead faded into quiet nothingness until the only sound was her own footsteps, breathing, and the squeaking of the rats.
Eventually, she would reach the end of the alleyway. Slumped over against a wall was what seemed to be some sort of freshly killed body. The black rats were nibbling and tearing at its flesh, biting through its long black robes, surgical looking gloves and the pointed mask it wore. She may recognize it briefly as a sort of style of clothing Lord Estimé used to use as well as the thralls he had used to deliver his…cures, to the populace.
Why was it here? And why did it look so…fresh? Well, she wouldn’t really get a moment to ask.
The moment she’d step into the small dead end alleyway, she’d feel something grab her body. It squeezed her body hard enough to cause her bones to creak as she’d soon feel herself being lifted off the ground. It was as if something was gripping her hard, squeezing her body as she’d be lifted to be level with the roof of the surrounding buildings.
And there, she’d see…a rat.
No, it wasn’t a rat. The longer she looked at the large beast the more it hurt her head and seemed entirely alien. A long arm covered in black flesh with patches of coarse fur. Red claws for gripping. Three more arms for reaching other things. Eight eyes, across four different faces, but that was all the brief glimpse she could imagine was as she’d feel and see reality warping around her as her vision briefly flickered into unconsciousness.
…
…
…
“Wake up! Stand up. There you go. You were dreaming.” A voice would slowly bring Akyasha back to the realm of the living…well, unliving, perhaps. As her vision returned, Akyasha would find herself in a place that seemed…a strange, but familiar place. She had apparently been laying in what was some sort of cathedral, but one completely foreign to her. There were no imagery of Ichor at all, so this couldn’t be the one from Alavaris. “Now what’s the name of an little servant of Ichor doing allll the way out here sleeping so soundly not even a storm could wake you?”
The speaker in question was a woman, wearing similar clothes to the corpse she had seen before. In fact, this lady and the corpse she had seen seemed incredibly similar but she was much less, well, dead. Pale skin, crimson colored eyes and long, disheveled off white colored hair. A mask hung at her side and a top hat rested atop her head. A few large rats rest at her feet, and a few others scurried about the cathedral.
The woman had helped Akyasha to her feet, and seemed to know what she was and who Ichor was.
“Come on, don’t be shy. Perhaps I should introduce myself first? I am Est. Just a humble traveler that has been lost here for quite some time.” It was hard to tell what was outside the cathedral, save for the bright light from the windows. The only hints she might have to who it was dedicated too were the rat motifs across the entire thing, and a statue similar to what she had vaguely remembered seeing before bring brought here. “Well come on, do answer. I’m not known to be the overly patient sort.”
It was easy enough for Giselle to find a weapon to reinforce with her blood, the scythe easily and cleanly cutting the undead’s head off sending it rolling onto the floor as the rest of the shambling dead would slowly trickle down the stairs and into the room. At least the screaming had stopped, and it seemed as though no more undead would immediately be drawn to them. The number of dead would fall easily, all things considered. They might be fleshy zombies and some might possess old armor and weapons, but they were not inherently more dangerous than the skeletons fought earlier.
Luna’s spell worked, at least somewhat. Enough that it would give the beast just a temporary bit of hesitation in its lunge. Just enough time for Dragan to be able to avoid getting cleaved in two from its jaws. As the warrior would leap onto the beasts back, the creature would raise itself into the air, shaking its serpentine neck irritably. Yet, as he would attempt to channel his necrotic magics into whatever ‘barrier’ was in front of him it was hard for Dragan to get a decent grasp of it. In fact, he felt almost no magic whatsoever from this barrier at all and attempting to decay it wasn’t proving to be quite so easy either.
But perhaps, Illena was on somewhat of a right track with her thought.
A shadowy foot slammed into the creatures jaw, sending the creature reeling back from the impact.
…the smell of fresh blood immediately met all three vampire’s noses as the creature shrieked. It was not a large wound. No, it was really more of a scrape more than anything but Luna and Illena would at least see the result of it and perhaps, give them some better understanding of what they were dealing with.
Blood, fresh blood, just a few drops fell from the wound. The area around the wound seemed to contort and bend slightly as if something wasn’t quite right, but they’d only have a few seconds to observe this before the creature went absolutely ballistic as it thrashed and slammed its head into the ground and walls around it.
Dragan would not be able to avoid the creature smashing the back of its own neck into the mountain next to them, crushing Dragan between it and the rockwall and making the vampire lose his grip, more than likely crushing a few bones too as he’d fall to the ground.
Immediately the serpentine creature would pull its head back away from the group, retreating some distance away as the ground around the bridge began to rumble. Slowly, part of the mountainside would start to crumble and give way, rocks and rubble falling into the gorge below as well as onto the road blocking any possibility of them heading back the way they came - but also conveniently knocking chunks of the mountain away to create a wide enough path for them to flee towards their destination - the Cathedral.
As the dust and debris began to settle, the creature’s head would slowly appear from the dust and debris that had been knocked loose, the serpentine skull glaring at them with impunity as more of the creature's body proper was slowly revealed. A massive beast with a seemingly extremely retractable and flexible neck that seemed to be nearly twice as long as its towering, almost feline looking body.
Its skeleton shimmered briefly, and for a few brief moments the vampires would see actual flesh. The blue serpentine eyes, the feline ears atop its head, its leathery skin marked with patches of scales. This beast, was very much alive, whatever it was, and it seemed as though it possessed some sort of ability to camouflage its skin while leaving its bones completely visible.
It roared, its posture becoming immediately aggressive as it seemed to wait for the vampires to make their next move.
Appearance: A cocky grin. A head full of bright, long blond hair tied with a bow and into a braid. Cecilia stands at roughly five foot nine, being a bit on the taller end of the spectrum even if she complains that she feels a lot shorter than she used to for whatever reason. She isn't particularly often dressed in a way one might envision a knight all things considered. More of something like a roguish character out of some fairy tale. A cloak to hide her appearance and keep warm, armor to cover her vitals and help with her archery but otherwise dressed in fairly simple garb.
Personality: A lackadaisical loveable rogue is what she calls herself. Seshaeal calls her a lazy rude miscreant. Both are probably applicable depending on your interpretations and dispositions. Cecilia is the type to let others do her work for her if she can help it, having no discipline whatsoever when it comes to such knightly things...but gone are the days of youth when she caused trouble for entertainment, thieved for her own fun or benefit or fought as a mercenary simply because that was the only thing she ever saw herself as amounting too.
Now, she finds herself uncertain of quite what she wants to do, or if she can even pull off being something more than a petty criminal or mercenary, but she'll definitely try if given the chance.
Brief Backstory: Cecilia's history begins not with her, but with a noble house by the name of Autmere. A well off family and noble house known for producing some of the best archers in the kingdom within their family. A well established family in Thaln, and ones who have always aided the kingdom in their times of need and readily defended the kingdom against the rebels in the War of the Red Flag. A little known secret however, is that the reason the family produced such great archers who could supposedly command the wind themselves was because of the heirloom bow that the family had, which supposedly housed a spirit of the wind that would lend its aide to the family.
This, is not the noble house a young boy named Cecil would be born into.
Cecil was born into a rival house by the name of Estierelli. A now disgraced noble house that supported the rebels in the Red Flag conflict, but before then they were quite an influential merchant family. No is quite certain when they became rivals of Autmere outside of the two families themselves, but the Estierelli's claim that they were thieves and liars, and Cecil grew up hearing such tales of the Autmere's. Perhaps, this was motivation enough for the family to later support the rebels.
Regardless of hows and whys, Cecil was quite the roguish characters growing up getting into all manner of scrapes and run ins with the law. Thievery, being a big one. A spoiled little brat, as one could imagine, and eventually he would come to earn his fathers ire with his antics when it was discovered he was having an affair with the Autmere's daughter. So he was given an ultimatum. He would be disinherited unless he put some actual effort into supporting the family and break things off with the Autmere girl. Eventually, Cecil would come up with the brilliant idea of stealing what he thought the Autmere's had stolen from his family.
Their magical Heirloom bow.
Under the cover of night with help from their daughter, he'd infiltrate their manor and successfully managed to steal away the bow. What he did not expect, however, is that the bow did house a spirit...and one that in fact, seemed to agree with him using it...but not before he was discovered stealing it. With the help of the spirit though, he managed to escape but not before being wounded himself and having to flee into the nearby countryside, taking shelter in a seemingly abandoned stable.
Where, he would later awaken to the fact that he was now a woman and the spirit seemed to be the cause of such a change. Seshaeal, she said her name was, and that this was just simply the consequence of using her abilities and definitely not because she thought it'd be funny. Ignoring the spirits incessant chattering and comments about how cute 'she' was, Cecil headed back to Thaln to discover that the news had spread quickly.
Either he had been murdered by the Autmere's and falsely accused of theft, or that he had stolen the heirloom bow and made an attempted on the Autmere's daughters life.
It was here, he made a decision.
He would quietly disappear. He couldn't go back home like this - like anyone would believe him and even if he did, he'd just be tried for theft. It was no surprise that two years later, when Cecilia was now 18 during the Red Flag War his family ended up siding with the rebels in some misguided attempt for revenge. It was during the war, too, that Cecilia would now make something of a name for herself and eventually earn some recognition as a skilled archer on her own, eventually being recruited into the iron roses.
The life of a knight suits Cecilia just fine. Just don't ask too much about where she came from. She keeps the bow and Seshaeal both underwraps for fear of her past coming back to haunt her.
Equipment: Tempest Spirit bow A magic bow inhabited by a spirit of wind by the name of Seshaeal. The bow itself is made of smooth wood and decorated with some sort of green, glass like crystals. Its surprisingly flexible and sturdy. Supposedly one who holds it allows for them to use Wind based magic...only if Seshaeal likes them, of course.
Cecilia can use Seshaeal's blessings in a number of ways, typically in powering up her arrows to fly faster and more accurate. A number of more uses though enable her to use arrows to deliver highly pressurized blasts of air to targets, use arrows to guide extremely powerful gusts of wind, etc, guide multiple arrows at once with air currents. Things of similar nature.
Skills:
Aside from her ability to channel and use wind-based magics thanks to Seshaeal's blessings and assistance, Cecilia is a skilled archer in her own right. Her fighting style is often quick, dirty, and makes use of somewhat unconventional tactics and her wind-blessed agility so she doesn't have to directly fight most opponents.
@VitaVitaAR Alright, here we go. four hours until work and I managed to get everything written and mostly to where I feel comfortable with it. I think I got the timeline generally right, but otherwise do tell if there are problems. I'll see about fixing them when I can get a minute.
If it wasn't quite clear, the intent is that she made a name for herself during the rebellion if that's acceptable.
Name: Cecilia
Age: 23
Gender: Female
Race: Human
Appearance: A cocky grin. A head full of bright, long blond hair tied with a bow and into a braid. Cecilia stands at roughly five foot nine, being a bit on the taller end of the spectrum even if she complains that she feels a lot shorter than she used to for whatever reason. She isn't particularly often dressed in a way one might envision a knight all things considered. More of something like a roguish character out of some fairy tale. A cloak to hide her appearance and keep warm, armor to cover her vitals and help with her archery but otherwise dressed in fairly simple garb.
Personality: A lackadaisical loveable rogue is what she calls herself. Seshaeal calls her a lazy rude miscreant. Both are probably applicable depending on your interpretations and dispositions. Cecilia is the type to let others do her work for her if she can help it, having no discipline whatsoever when it comes to such knightly things...but gone are the days of youth when she caused trouble for entertainment, thieved for her own fun or benefit or fought as a mercenary simply because that was the only thing she ever saw herself as amounting too.
Now, she finds herself uncertain of quite what she wants to do, or if she can even pull off being something more than a petty criminal or mercenary, but she'll definitely try if given the chance.
Brief Backstory: Cecilia's history begins not with her, but with a noble house by the name of Autmere. A well off family and noble house known for producing some of the best archers in the kingdom within their family. A well established family in Thaln, and ones who have always aided the kingdom in their times of need and readily defended the kingdom against the rebels in the War of the Red Flag. A little known secret however, is that the reason the family produced such great archers who could supposedly command the wind themselves was because of the heirloom bow that the family had, which supposedly housed a spirit of the wind that would lend its aide to the family.
This, is not the noble house a young boy named Cecil would be born into.
Cecil was born into a rival house by the name of Estierelli. A now disgraced noble house that supported the rebels in the Red Flag conflict, but before then they were quite an influential merchant family. No is quite certain when they became rivals of Autmere outside of the two families themselves, but the Estierelli's claim that they were thieves and liars, and Cecil grew up hearing such tales of the Autmere's. Perhaps, this was motivation enough for the family to later support the rebels.
Regardless of hows and whys, Cecil was quite the roguish characters growing up getting into all manner of scrapes and run ins with the law. Thievery, being a big one. A spoiled little brat, as one could imagine, and eventually he would come to earn his fathers ire with his antics when it was discovered he was having an affair with the Autmere's daughter. So he was given an ultimatum. He would be disinherited unless he put some actual effort into supporting the family and break things off with the Autmere girl. Eventually, Cecil would come up with the brilliant idea of stealing what he thought the Autmere's had stolen from his family.
Their magical Heirloom bow.
Under the cover of night with help from their daughter, he'd infiltrate their manor and successfully managed to steal away the bow. What he did not expect, however, is that the bow did house a spirit...and one that in fact, seemed to agree with him using it...but not before he was discovered stealing it. With the help of the spirit though, he managed to escape but not before being wounded himself and having to flee into the nearby countryside, taking shelter in a seemingly abandoned stable.
Where, he would later awaken to the fact that he was now a woman and the spirit seemed to be the cause of such a change. Seshaeal, she said her name was, and that this was just simply the consequence of using her abilities and definitely not because she thought it'd be funny. Ignoring the spirits incessant chattering and comments about how cute 'she' was, Cecil headed back to Thaln to discover that the news had spread quickly.
Either he had been murdered by the Autmere's and falsely accused of theft, or that he had stolen the heirloom bow and made an attempted on the Autmere's daughters life.
It was here, he made a decision.
He would quietly disappear. He couldn't go back home like this - like anyone would believe him and even if he did, he'd just be tried for theft. It was no surprise that two years later, when Cecilia was now 18 during the Red Flag War his family ended up siding with the rebels in some misguided attempt for revenge. It was during the war, too, that Cecilia would now make something of a name for herself and eventually earn some recognition as a skilled archer on her own, eventually being recruited into the iron roses.
The life of a knight suits Cecilia just fine. Just don't ask too much about where she came from. She keeps the bow and Seshaeal both underwraps for fear of her past coming back to haunt her.
Equipment: Tempest Spirit bow A magic bow inhabited by a spirit of wind by the name of Seshaeal. The bow itself is made of smooth wood and decorated with some sort of green, glass like crystals. Its surprisingly flexible and sturdy. Supposedly one who holds it allows for them to use Wind based magic...only if Seshaeal likes them, of course.
Cecilia can use Seshaeal's blessings in a number of ways, typically in powering up her arrows to fly faster and more accurate. A number of more uses though enable her to use arrows to deliver highly pressurized blasts of air to targets, use arrows to guide extremely powerful gusts of wind, etc, guide multiple arrows at once with air currents. Things of similar nature.
Skills:
Aside from her ability to channel and use wind-based magics thanks to Seshaeal's blessings and assistance, Cecilia is a skilled archer in her own right. Her fighting style is often quick, dirty, and makes use of somewhat unconventional tactics and her wind-blessed agility so she doesn't have to directly fight most opponents.
“Enough with the ropes demon! Just stop!” The woman in question shouted, but it was unlikely that Vammy would. Soon, the woman would be tied up back in the storage room that she had been in earlier. It seemed like she had managed to escape by scooting out and cutting the ropes on her hands on some implement, likely the same knives she was using. Perhaps Vammy would end up tying her up in some other method.
Regardless, when she was about halfway done tying the woman up, Lazhira would walk through the door, excited, at least until she saw what Vammy was doing with the prisoner.
“...vammy I know your a demon but I don’t think that kind of torture is very…good.” Lazhira said with a frown, obviously misunderstanding something here. “But if that’s what you wanna do, I’ll make sure to take very extensive…notes.” She’d nod, excitedly.
The moon goddess holds up a sign with an 18+ behind a red emblem on it looking quite displeased Current location: Dawn Time: Morning Potential Events:
Asvar has mentioned a lack of Ore and that he might know where more are. Apparently Raelzeth is having trouble locating it with her stone-singing.
The fish problem remains as of yet solved.
Apparently Mie was attacked by the Yaga and Krysa and is held up somewhere in the Northern Snowfields.
Enli mentioned not having enough coins or goods to barter with the merchant Mie, if she comes. Perhaps he himself have some ideas on this.
The Crypts are off limits. Did something happen?
There could be a way to start diversifying Dawn’s food options aside from its usual fish, berry, and forest animal diet.
Now who are these newcomers?
Perhaps there's something you, personally, feel that needs to be done?
If Sorcha had any further thoughts on Nylah’s parentage she didn’t voice them, falling quiet and letting the Mothraki prepare the bed and room for them. She’d end up leaning against a wall, arms folded across her chest, doing her best job of trying to kill the Mothraki with a gaze alone. Leuca elected to remain quiet, too, for the most part though the silence was clearly making the small elf comfortable.
“...Uhm, Sorcha?”
“What?”
“...how long are we going to stay here?”
“Until I believe it safe to travel back to Tamaln and inform his majesty of the shadow elves betrayal personally.”
“I…I see…” Leuca glanced towards the floor, frowning lightly. “So…it might be awhile before I can see uncle?”
“Yes.”
“...why would the Shadow Elves…do this? There were even Apostles there…”
“...Leuca.” Sorcha turned her attention from Nylah, instead turning towards the Elf child, expression noticeably softening for the first time they had been here. She placed a hand on Leuca’s head, gently ruffling her hair. “You know I won’t let anything happen to you, right?”
“I-I know, I just…Do you think Queen Vasserassa really would do this?”
“Leuca…” Sorcha glanced to the side as she’d respond, unable to meet the young elfs gaze. “...that’s just how they are. That’s how most people are. I know I taught you to try and keep an open mind, but…”
“I know, you’ve told me before. But do they have a reason to?”
“...did the Fey and Elves have a reason to curse that god in that story I used to tell you?”
“...w-well, no…I mean, maybe to them they did but…”
“Leuca.” Sorcha pulled her into a hug. “Shush. Get some rest, okay? We’ve had a long day you should be your usual smiley self, not this. That’s my job.” Sorcha gave her an affectionate kiss on the forehead just as Nylah had finished the preparations for the fire and food. “Thank you for the consideration, but I’ll prepare our meals myself.” Sorcha said, pulling away from Leuca. “If there will be nothing else then, we’ve had a long day and I would very much appreciate some rest.”
Assuming there was nothing else nylah wanted to do, it seemed her guests were fine taking care of themselves.
The Moon goddess seems somewhat amused Nylah is thinking about her in other dresses. Suddenly the dress changes to a purple one and she sticks her tongue out at Nylah. Current location: Dawn Time: Morning Potential Events:
Asvar has mentioned a lack of Ore and that he might know where more are. Apparently Raelzeth is having trouble locating it with her stone-singing.
The fish problem remains as of yet solved.
Apparently Mie was attacked by the Yaga and Krysa and is held up somewhere in the Northern Snowfields.
Enli mentioned not having enough coins or goods to barter with the merchant Mie, if she comes. Perhaps he himself have some ideas on this.
The Crypts are off limits. Did something happen?
There could be a way to start diversifying Dawn’s food options aside from its usual fish, berry, and forest animal diet.
Well, the human doesn’t seem to be the friendliest.
Perhaps there's something you, personally, feel that needs to be done?
“Aye, well, uh, can’t say I know too much about em myself. I ain’t never left Azurumnal before now so I only know what the Scholars say about ‘em. The Krysa have some sorta knowledge to make living metal or something and control steam. The Yaga are a bunch of folk who live under ‘em. Not sure what that means, though, but they’re generally a pretty peaceful bunch. Their religion is pretty peaceful and they’re fairly open to outsiders usually.” Eirhild responded thoughtfully, mulling something over in her head before responding further.
“Uh, the Krysa though. They got this Elder Beast they sorta…worship? Its apparently got the temperament of a ravenous Crystal Eater and the wits of a dwarven high scholar though.” The dwarf frowned. “Not sure how accurate that is but probably don’t wanna mess with ‘em.” Eirhild glanced around, frowning a bit at the people in the cathedral. She had figured something had been going on here, but to hear that it had been that dire.
Well, honestly…wasn’t really much of her problem, all things considered.
“Alright lass, if ye need me I’ll probably be here. See if I can’t find a place to get a good rest.”
The moon goddess redresses herself, plucking a few gems from thin air. Current location: Dawn Time: Morning Potential Events:
Asvar has mentioned a lack of Ore and that he might know where more are. Apparently Raelzeth is having trouble locating it with her stone-singing.
The fish problem remains as of yet solved.
Apparently Mie was attacked by the Yaga and Krysa and is held up somewhere in the Northern Snowfields.
Enli mentioned not having enough coins or goods to barter with the merchant Mie, if she comes. Perhaps he himself have some ideas on this.
The Crypts are off limits. Did something happen?
There could be a way to start diversifying Dawn’s food options aside from its usual fish, berry, and forest animal diet.
Well, the human doesn’t seem to be the friendliest.
Perhaps there's something you, personally, feel that needs to be done?
The zombie assaulting Finn would finally, finally cease its movements as it’d fall to life atop him, but not before giving Finnegan a few good claw and bite marks over his neck and the hands he was attacking with. It’d be easy to shove off as he’d bash the second one with the pommel and loosening its grip just enough so he could get away from the undead, now reduced to just two.
“Oh goodness, you actually-” The woman had moved behind him again, making certain she wasn’t in the immediate line of fire as the two remaining zombies responded to the two of them with guttural, pained howls. Thankfully for Finn now that he had a proper weapon, as ill suited for being one as it was, the zombies would prove much less of a threat. “Haaa, dear Goddess my poor little heart can’t take this much excitement. I’m not a spider meant for fighting…first that meanie Raam and now the consequences of my own actions haaa…”
Finnegan could hear the woman going through more objects behind him, though it wasn’t quite clear what she’d be doing from sound alone, but once he dispatched the other two zombies he’d find that well…she was definitely not human, but definitely not a normal chiralta either.
And this would be the scene Atzi finds herself stumbling on. After getting a key for the crypts from Akala, Atzi would find herself standing in the main hallway of the crypts. Following the sounds was a simple thing to do, and she'd open the door and find the two zombies assaulting Finn and Achel.
"Ah? Atzi! Shouldn't you be resting!" Achel shouted to her as she'd enter the room.
The gears slowly stop moving, slowly grinding to a halt. The moon goddess still says nothing as her back is turned to Finn. The gears slowly began to decay, dropping into the sea below her. Seeing someone else though, the Moon goddess' attitude seemingly does a 180 and the gears all disappear and the screen returns to its usual blue coloration with the Goddess sitting at the top of the screen. Current location: Dawn Time: Morning Potential Events:
Well you solved the immediate zombie problem
Good for you
You want a cookie? Too bad, I’m not giving you one.
“I see…” Sorcha responded to Niall’s summary of events. “Niall, I believe you should know that Tuatha is almost certainly the same one that attacked Airedale only a few days ago.” The Queen leaned over the table, staring at the map as she’d study the map that Niall had provided for her. “Not so fast, Luna. They may be related - but it seems like the red-haired Tuatha and these bandits here are enemies. We can safely assume then, that what Vyrell and myself at least feared somewhat, is that the outlaws of Albion are still hardly united.” Sorcha inhaled, thinking a few moments. “And perhaps we could use the red haired Tuatha to our advantage. But that is neither here nor there for the moment. It will be something I discuss with Vyrell once we are back in Airedale. For now I agree with Luna. We crush,” Sorcha slammed her fist onto the table, the force of it causing the wood under the map to splinter from the impact just slightly. “These creatures.”
Sorcha straightened her posture and looked at the three gathered knights, a fiery determination evident.
“We can discover and figure out what they are up to once you three raid the base and we have more information.” She’d dust off the side of her hand that had hit the table. “I’ll leave the planning up to you three since I shall not be accompanying you. I will be staying here in case something…unexpected happens in your absence. The only thing I want out of this is that you three ensure that there are no survivors at all. Do I make myself clear? My mercy only goes so far and if they are colluding with Fomorians then they shall receive none.” Sorcha folded her arms across her chest. “Truthfully, Niall causing a scene may be more of a boon than a hindrance. One of their gates has been destroyed and I doubt they have had time to reconstruct it.”
Sorcha would fall silent, letting Luna, Fio, and Niall lead the discussion from here and only having input if she was directly asked by the three. It shouldn't be that hard for them to come up with a plan. The main building built into the side of a large boulder that overlooked the rest of the camp. A destroyed gate. Sure an ambush was unlikely to work, but since when did proper knights rely on such underhanded tactics?
A walk in the Meadows of Asphodel...
For the longest time, it felt as though he was caught in that single moment.
A terrible fire, burning every single cell of his being. Armor melted. Flesh seared. Burned alive. It had thankfully, been only an instant in reality, but suspended as he was in this death like state for an indeterminate amount of time, feeling every bit of that fire that had ripped him from life was a particular kind of hell.
One that would suddenly come to an end, as his life blinked back into existence.
He was laying on surprisingly soft, but cold gray colored grass and looking up at a sky of blackness above. Behind him was the destination he had just made it through during his last encounter with death, a forest of decayed trees.
And in front of him, the familiar sight of a maid that he had grown rather accustomed to meeting in these situations.
”My my…how many is that now? A dozen? Two? A hundred?” Truly I have lost count by now, sir.” Her name, as she tells it, was Survan Nemorine, and by now he’d realize that she was most distinctly not human if her goat eyes were anything to go by, her odd mannerisms and self admittance of being a ‘demon’. “You should really be more careful. Would be a shame if you were to…permanently end yourself.”
Her tone of voice was quite dissonasant with her words.
“Regardless,” She’d perform a deep bow. “Welcome once more to the underworld, wayward soul. You have trekked through the Sea of Ends, past the Obsidian Mountains, through the Red Palace of Mizushi, across the Rivers of Lethe and Styx, through the Forest of Petrified Souls…and thus, stand at the Asphodel Meadows. Only a brief little hop away from your destination now, lost little lamb.”
"This is the eighth time." Reinhardt replied curtly, breathing a deep sigh as his fingers pressed deeply into his eyes; vainly attempting to quell the incessant buzz of dull pain that lingered in his skull.
"Your attempts to feign concern for my well-being are neither convincing, nor amusing."
With a grunt the Knight lumbered to his feet, massaging his temples roughly as his gaze would settle on the black sky above. "Every time I end up here part of me hopes you won't be there… And yet every time, there you are– patiently waiting."
A nihilistic chuckle carried forth from Reinhardt's breath, "I can't ignore you, kill you, or run from you, much as I've tried…"
He shook his head in silent defeat, finally meeting the unsettlingly calm, inhuman eyes of the demon. "I’m still not sure why I’m required at this ’land of the unclaimed dead’, but seeing that I seem to be the only soul down here with a demon attached to my hip– I get the feeling it’s not something I can refuse."
Again the Knight sighed, gritting his teeth as his gaze would scan the sunless horizon. "Lead the way then. It’s about time we get this journey over with."
“Oh? But I most certainly do care for your wellbeing.” She’d respond. “Even after you ignored me. Killed me, left my body to rot upon this land of the dead, I do still. After all, that is what was tasked of me…and far be it from refusing my orders, lost lamb.” She’d proceed to sit mid air, as though there was some invisible chair or resting place under her. She’d somehow manifest a teacup from her dress and proceed to have a long, drawn out drink of it as a few moments of silence passed.
“Do not rush onwards, little lamb. This place is not for those who seek to run headlong to their fates. It is a quiet, lovely place and its inhabitants… usually kind. I’m sure you’ve ran into a Grudge or two on the way here. Let us take a moment to rest. Dying is painful, after all. I’m certain it’d be much better to proceed with a clear mind and as few ailments as possible.” A grin slowly crept across her features. “After all, each death of yours…tick tock, closer and closer, little lamb. Time will run out sooner than you think.”
Reinhardt's eyes narrowed, "Only a fool would trust a Demon; especially one presenting themselves kindly. Considering my circumstances, and the perverse joy you seem to get from the notion of my 'time running out'--"
The Knight sighed, seating himself almost leisurely on the ground. "I still think my actions against you are entirely justified."
Elias gave pause for a long moment, his gaze sweeping the Meadows as he breathed deeply.
"Besides– to charge forth headlong into whatever lies ahead is my responsibility as a Knight of Reinhardt; a protector of Albion. Just as your apparent duty is to care for my well-being… Giving my heart, my body, and even my life; however many times I must, in defense of the people of Albion and the legacy I fight to uphold is the duty that I am burdened with."
Another long pause followed as Reinhardt continued to admire the strange beauty of the Meadows surrounding him before beginning to ponder aloud. "Those abominable masses of twisted, mutilated bodies… You called them Grudges? They must not be all that uncommon if you're concerned I'd encounter any here… I've only fought one thus far– after I'd killed you. At the time I'd thought it your doing; a means of avenging your death at my hands…"
Elias sighed once more, placing a single hand flatly behind him as he'd recline slightly.
"This entire journey– our little foray through the lands of the dead…" he began once more, his eyes shifting back to Survan. "You've never really told me why you're guiding me… I've always found your choice of garb strange; it's as if you're presenting yourself as a maid. After learning what you were I'd initially thought it was intended to lull me into a false sense of security… But now I'm rather curious– who or what are you taking me to? And to what end do my summons serve?"
“Ah, you humans do so love justifying murder with reason, logic, and faith. Why you do not simply allow yourselves to be honest with desires I will never understand.” A small smile, another sip from the teacup. “Would you prefer I dress in blood and gore? Took the form of a silver skinned demon with hooves for feet and that weeps blood and uses its severed head as a flail? Or perhaps you’d prefer my more seductive kin? I assure you I can do that just as well, if you’d prefer such company. Would those meet your expectations?”
Survan tossed the teacup carelessly, though it never made it to the ground, disappearing just a few seconds before it shattered against it.
“But that would be inappropriate. I dress this way, because this is what I am, and I guide you, because it was the task that was given to me. Perhaps you’d find it humorous, once you realize who I serve…but I was instructed to not say anything. As such, I do apologize, but I can not speak to who…however,” She’d hop off whatever invisible thing she was sitting on, taking another deep bow.
“I suppose I can at least tell you your destination,” She’d make a motion with her arms towards the meadows. “Across the meadows, in the heart of the ashen sea of grass…you will find the home of the dead - Alavaris. And that, is where you will find answers you seek…and perhaps someone to help this little condition of yours.” She’d straighten her posture. “Now, I think I’ve said enough and you’ve rested enough. Lets not dally any more, lamb. For your time here is brief fleeting and next time may be your permanent internment here.”
Elias' briefly improved demeanor visibly began to sour as he listened to the Demoness' reply. Every grating word she spoke slowly chipped away at the Knight's patience; grating away at him like few others ever could. By the time she'd finished her little tea break and decided that it was time to continue on the Knight seemed nearly ready to just push on without her, regardless of any objections she might make.
"Well then–" Reinhart scoffed as he hopped back to his feet; clearly tired of Survan’s company, "It’s about damned time.“
The Knight rolled his shoulders as he began his march, his eyes and step firmly set in the direction that the maid had gestured in.
“For a lost lamb, you’re awfully dreary.” Survan responded, following along after Reinhardt. For the next little bit, the two traveled, and mostly had a one sided conversation between the two of them with Survan being the one who was having it. It was perhaps amazing, how much one could talk about nothing at all, and how much that nothing at all could be delivered in a mildly condescending and irritating tone like the demon could.
Eventually, the forest behind them would disappear into the horizon as the two would come across a rather odd shaped cage embedded into the ground as though someone had haphazardly simply dropped it from the sky. The thing was hollow, about ten feet tall and inside a blue fire burned brightly, a slow warmth overcoming Reinhardt as he’d approach.
“Ah, have I told you about these? Or have you run into one before?” She’d begin, though wouldn’t give him time to respond. “Spirit lamps. They help guide lost souls towards the City, you see. Even narrow-minded sheep like yourself could easily find their way to it.” Looking around, he could see several more in the distant, sweeping plains. “A perfect place for a bit of a tea break, hm?”
Reinhardt paused for a moment, giving the lamp a solid look-over, finally opening his mouth for the first time since the two had resumed their trek toward the city. "So that's what these are?" The Knight mused, reaching out with a single hand to gently run his fingers across it's frame, "I've seen them about; other souls following after them… Never quite knew their purpose though."
Elais silently admired the strange lantern for a long moment, basking in the strange, calming light it offered. "I would assume these also repel the 'Grudges' then? If not, I'd imagine these lanterns are little more than feeding troughs to those monstrosities…"
The Knight went silent for another long moment before speaking once more; what irritation he had pent up seemingly dispersed for the moment, "I can't imagine how long it would've taken me to get this far just looking for these… Nonetheless, they'd certainly be preferable to the company of a Demon on a journey such as this."
Reinhardt's brow furrowed as a sigh passed his lips, "Yet, for some reason I've had the misfortune to wake up here with a Demon at my side instead. Every damned time without fail. Not even once… What the hell do you even do between my visits anyway? Do you just stand there waiting wherever I left off?"
“Oh, curious about me little lamb?” Survan curled her mouth into a smile. “I drink tea, read a book…chat with my co-workers. Maybe take care of a grudge or two if it threatens the souls here. Maybe…toy with one or two, if they take my fancy.” It was difficult to tell if she was joking. Her tone was as serious as it always was. “Truthfully, little lamb…time isn’t the same here as it is in the world above. This is a realm where time refuses to move, after all.”
She’d glance to the side, far off into the distance.
“...now, lambkin, you are correct in saying that these usually ward off grudges. Normally they would.” She’d take a few steps away from Reinhardt. “They are particularly drawn towards those of lively dispositions as well as strong emotions.”
From around the side of a lamp, a large skeletal and ghostly creature manifested, its large claw like hand clinging to the side of the lamp as it peered at Reinhardt beneath its dusty cowl. It was about half as tall as the lamp, and seemed to lack any sort of legs. In its other hand, it held a lamp filled with blue light as well.
“These are pitiful sorts of grudges. They lack many offensive options…only hoping to lure lost souls to it with its ghost light. I do hope you have something to slay a spirit with, otherwise I suppose you’ll have to run.”
Reinhardt's lack of amusement at the sudden turn of events was palpable. The Knight's fingers pressed firmly into his eyes as he expelled a heaving sigh. Shaking his head, the Knight looked to Survan. Then to the Grudge. Then back to Survan. Then to the lantern. To the hand that the creature was using to hold the lantern. To his own hand that touched the lantern. To Survan a final time. And at last settling on the faceless hood of the Grudge that sought to prey upon him.
With a small jerk of his hand, Elias pulled the lantern from the vengeful spirit's grasp; raising it high over his head–
Crack!
The Grudge hesitated as the first strike came down upon its hooded head; the entirely alien concept of it's prey fighting back seeming to catch the creature off its guard. Nonetheless it pressed forward; claws outstretch–
Crack! Crack!
The following two strikes sent the spirit sprawling to the ground, the hooded figure scrambling to turn tail; having given up it's quarry in favor of surv–
Crack!
The fourth strike flattened the creature on the spot. But every cautious; and not wanting to chance a surprise attack, sat and watched the freshly made pancake– until he swore one of it's claws twitched.
Crack! Crack! Crack!
Reinhardt stood from his crouched position; having thoroughly and unceremoniously bludgeoned the Grudge to the point he was certain it wouldn't be getting back up.
Dusting himself off, he hoisted the lantern onto his shoulder and shot his accompanying Demoness a disgruntled glare before continuing on his way toward Alavaris.
"Very funny Survan. I think I'll be holding onto this for the moment in case you feel the need to make any more jokes."
The skeletal creature shrieked, its easy meal proving not to be so easy at all. Instead, it was summarily beat into the ground with its own fake lantern. The creature would thus cease moving only seconds after, its body turning into what seemed to be dust leaving only the cloth that was once on its body behind.
“My, whatever do you mean?” The demon smiled. “Its my job to make sure you get to the city unharmed…you don’t think I’d intentionally put you in danger, do you? Perish the thought. I do have plenty of jokes, though. Perhaps you’d like to hear one?”
Reinhart scowled at the notion; pursing his lips as he held steady pace, "I feel as though you'll say it regardless…"
The Knight sighed in quiet defeat, "Just get out with it then."
“Still so little trust after everything I’ve done.” Survan responded. “Perhaps you’d have preferred if I led the little lamb to a slaughterhouse instead? Regardless, if you’re so eager…ahem,”Survan once again propped herself up on her invisible seating. She'd cross her legs, holding a hand to her chest and seeming quite pleased with herself with what she was about to do. “Do you know why the little sheep mistepped and fell to his death?” She’d pause for a moment. “No? Well, I guess a little goat must have pulled the wool over his eyes.”
She seemed to be waiting for applause.
Reinhardt abruptly stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes narrowing to slits as he carefully appraised the ground before him, around him, and behind him. His head turned to regard Survan– slowly, carefully, examining her.
The Knight grit his teeth as he mulled over his thoughts. "Then the goat should tread carefully–" he responded tersely; brandishing his newly acquired bludgeon toward the Demon, "For surely– the Goat must understand… Even Lambs have teeth, and the one it considers a plaything may soon tire of the ruse."
“My my, you asked for a joke and here you are upstaging me.” The demon replied, a slow smile curling upon her lips. “Do be careful the lambs blunt fangs do not bite off more than they can chew.” She would hop off her invisible seating walking brusquely past Reinhardt. “For he should remember, the goat was only tasked with bringing him…whether in two pieces or not. And trust me, little lamb,” Caprine eyes turned towards him as she’d swivel her head just slightly to peer at him. “I would be quite interested in seeing just how easily something unbreakable…breaks.”
A quite obvious threat, as Survan would return to her usual nonchalance quickly after making it.
“But let us continue as friends, hm? Much better that way, wouldn’t you agree? If nothing else, lamb…trust that even if I do not like you, I have my orders to bring you to someone that has answers about your predicament.”
The Knight held his scowl firmly as his narrowed eyes followed the Demon closely.
Though he certainly didn't trust this creature– wasting his strength at the current moment would be a mistake… Especially if wherever Survan was leading him turned out to be a trap.
Reinhardt's expression soured further; his arm returning the lantern to once again rest upon his shoulder.
"I've decided against giving you the satisfaction of further wasting my time… If your deluded mind wants to label such as 'continuing as friends', then that's of no concern to me."
“Haaa, Mistress, why do you always give me the annoying ones-ah.” Survan paused, not walking much further as she’d instead look out over the meadows. They were at the crest of a small hill over the meadows now, and in the distance Reinhardt could see something. A large wall, seemingly spanning the entirety of the blackened horizon. Beyond it, a massive, sprawling city unlike any he had seen before. Buildings with construction that were completely foreign, perhaps of a completely different era than this. Looming over the city was a massive cathedral, and beyond it, it seemed the city rested against a massive cavern wall. Was he underground?
“It seems we are almost to our destination, lamb.” She’d say as she’d start walking again. “Do watch your step.”
The Knight stood in shocked silence atop the hill’s crest; swallowing dryly as he stared in awe of the monolithic City that lay before him. The Cathedral alone dwarfed the entirety of Airedale, and though he’d never actually been there– Reinhardt imagined that even Harzel itself; the largest City in Albion, would only barely rival the gargantuan Shrine.
"So this is Alavaris…. It’s even bigger than I’d imagined."
He stared at the at the towering Cityscape, his eyes trailing from it’s deepest roots to the utmost peak of the cavern wall it seemed to rest upon.
"And where in Alvaris are we headed?"
“You are heading towards the Cathedral. That is where she waits for you.” Survan responded, turning to face Reinhardt. “Alas, little lamb, this will be where we part. I am not allowed in the city.” The demon’s expression for once, did falter from its usual display of callous mirth. The demon's mouth ever so subtly fell downwards. “I suppose I shall have to get my entertainment elsewhere, oh well.”
She’d position herself on her usual invisible seat, legs crossed playfully as a teacup manifested in her hand.
“You’ll be on your own here, unless another of us decides to take pity on a lost little lamb. Do try not to cause a ruckus or disturb the residents of the city. This is no place for those still counted mostly among the living.”
Reinhardt's eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he grit his teeth in another moment of long silence.
"Good riddance. I wish good luck to whatever poor soul is burdened with your company next… They'll certainly need it considering what you classify as entertainment."
Survan didn’t bother to reply as the Knight trudged onward toward the City of the Dead.
His journey continued.
Alone.
By the time he was standing before the massive walls of the old, dead city his entire body would feel light, as though he was perhaps either drunk or was trying to move through a thick fog. His movements slowed, reaction time slowly began to go. Indeed, as he approached and stood before the gate it began to grow somewhat translucent…and as his feet finally hit cobblestone, his vision would go completely.
…
Sometime later, Reinhardt would find himself waking in a field of blasted trees and ash that the dragon had burned to cinders. He had been out for a few hours now. Finding his teammates may be a good idea, but where were they?
Watching Reinhardt leave left the demon known as Survan without much to do again. She watched him trek all the way across the rest of the plains and then towards the city before ultimately his journey through the underworld once more came to a close. Briefly, she wondered how long he’d be away this time? Last time…for those in the underworld, it had been nearly a year as far as she was concerned.
Of course, that was merely because time in the underworld was stagnant. It didn’t flow. Neither forwards nor backwards by decree of her Ladyship.
“Survan, you seem bored. Perhaps I should assign you more work.”
“Perish the thought, Mistress.” Survan immediately responded, being drawn from her thoughts with a deep curtsy to the woman in front of her. “I was merely lamenting the loss of entertainment again in my long, ever so dreary life. I don’t suppose you’d like to entertain me again like you did when you were such an adorable little child?”
“If you want entertainment, there’s always room in the Abyss.”
“Mistress, please. I may be a masochist that devours the violence of others but I don’t fancy having my own soul eaten.” Survan responded with tut.
“So what do you think of him?”
“The boorish knight?” Survan sighed. “Tsk tsk, so angry yet so delicious. I dearly wanted him to try and fight me again. I would have had his head on a silver platter. Such a shame his reason to avoid a fight won out in the end…or perhaps I just needed to prod harder? You do so ever have a habit of finding such…difficult to deal with, don’t you?”
“You’re one to talk, Survan. You could have easily riled him up to try it again, even if it would have mostly assuredly been a death sentence for him.” The black haired woman exhaled, the chains on her wrists and ankles clattering lightly in the breeze. “Do you think he shall be useful? Or should I merely fix this aberration before it becomes worse?”
“It is truly hard to say, Mistress. Personally? I don’t think he’s worth it. Foolish knights like him are so easily susceptible to corruption and influence. He’ll be so blinded by loyalty to that foolish creature that he won’t realize what he’s doing. I doubt he’ll care much to listen to outsiders like us.”
“Hm…perhaps, but if we can, that would certainly make things much, much simpler, would it not?”
“Ever the optimist despite your gloomy appearance, aren’t you my ever so pretty Lady Rifelshka?”
“Optimist? No. I’m simply taking into consideration my assigned role here to make less work for me later. I would much rather spend all day in my house having Nynette make tea for me, thank you.”
“You really must invite me to these tea parties of yours every now and then…”
And so, the two continued to speak about nothing at all for quite some time…
[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/jjKSxTj.png[/img][/center]
Hello! Welcome to my little bio.
Not much to say, really. Just a horror game protag that likes writing and playing vidya games when I'm not being chased by the cosmic forces of darkness. (I'm a security guard that works night shifts usually).
Have some dancing medjed.
[img]https://i.redd.it/q95hk1tobbv11.gif[/img]
<div style="white-space:pre-wrap;"><div class="bb-center"><img src="https://i.imgur.com/jjKSxTj.png" /></div><br><br>Hello! Welcome to my little bio.<br><br>Not much to say, really. Just a horror game protag that likes writing and playing vidya games when I'm not being chased by the cosmic forces of darkness. (I'm a security guard that works night shifts usually).<br><br>Have some dancing medjed.<br><br><img src="https://i.redd.it/q95hk1tobbv11.gif" /></div>
Danyel
datadogie
The Red Seelie
rush99999
Xiro Zean
Cu Chulainn
Alfhedil
Ojiro Mashirao
Gerlando
Izurich
