The Otter

ArrowFell: The Wizard Queen's Court

Callum Prosser

---

The voyage back to Hathforth had been blessedly uneventful, a reprieve that Callum desperately needed. After the constant shocks and surprises of his last couple of weeks, any break was a welcome one. Thus, he'd let Raiden sit alone in the Swiftsure's brig like he'd said he would, his time on the return spent reading, relaxing, and practicing from time to time to get a feel for his new blade. The ghostly appearance it carried was disconcerting to say the least, nor did he yet have any clue why it had appeared so suddenly in front of him, especially if it was so important—but at least it still felt like a sword. He could move with it the way he'd been taught.

That was something.

Of course, any such break inevitably had to end, and the work had to resume. There was a wind blowing through Hathforth as the ships came in to dock, picking up soot and ash and making it look as though the city was still smouldering. The clean-up efforts were massive, with large portions of the city's populace mobilized to pick up the pieces as much as they could. Alongside the outward damage, it was clear that the attackers had stolen things as well...not the least being the queen's own adopted daughter.

He half expected to get sent out riding immediately to try and retrieve the girl, but evidently two dignitaries from over the sea had been given the chance to prove themselves to the throne instead. Callum had been left to contemplate the attack they received at sea, the concurrent attack upon the city, and the one person who might have a clue about either. One who he said he'd speak to.

Given Raiden's past actions, he wasn't particularly convinced the man would know much of anything. He seemed entirely convinced of his own intelligence, and utterly unaware that he wasn't half as witty or charming as he thought he was.

Callum pushed the iron door open with a sigh, already hearing the chained man's whistling over the creaking hinges. The same tune he'd been whistling since he was on the ship, the guards had said. It was a wonder that Raiden himself didn't get tired of it.

"Well, this is a pitiful sight, isn't it?" he called over by way of greeting. "At least this time you were smart enough not to try and fight your way out of it; I'm sure you'd have been hacked to pieces if you'd tried that again." He crossed his arms, leaning against the far wall from his, for once, captive audience. The enchanted, monster- and king-slaying blade clinked against the wall in its enchanted, pearlescent scabbard. Even chained as the man was, Callum wasn't inclined to enter any chamber with Raiden unarmed.

"I imagine you wish you'd decided to listen to me before—or are you still so self-assured that you're convinced it was the right choice?"

ArrowFell: The Wizard Queen's Court

I'll have a post up by Friday. Had a pretty busy weekend.

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Esben Mathiassen

---

Esben could feel the shredded skin on his hand knitting back together rapidly under Eos's hands, where she floated down and laid her hands on his arm. Selene pulled something out of one of his pockets as Isolde spoke, the pair hiding together behind him as the group was addressed. He could hear something scratching behind him as the pair worked—

His journal. The fairies had swiped his journal, and Selene was quietly humming something while they wrote in it.

"What are you two doing?" he mumbled, barely turning his head to address them. In response, the journal was snapped shut, placed back in his pocket, and he shuddered as a jolt of electricity ran down his spine. "There's the pact!" Selene said, lifting back into view. Eos did as well, her hands stained dark crimson.

"We knew we needed to get it done fast," she whispered, looking over at Isolde. Selene nodded in agreement. "There's no way she doesn't try to dispel us all, but you should be able to call us back before too lo—"

"Dispelja."

She was suddenly silent, the words cutting off in an instant as the pair were reduced to free aether in the wake of Isolde's spell. The Eidolons lasted slightly longer, enough to feel the discomfort of their dissolution, while Eve and Cid were reduced near to uselessness...and winked away in an instant. Leaving the empty ruins, nine facing off against twenty-five. Yet more reason not to allow Neve to come with them, knowing the betrayal had been planned from the second Isolde had heard them state Cid's name.

Refreshed with Eos's last-second ministrations, Esben still stood at the fore of the party, weapons held loosely in his grasp. The warriors of the cathedral, burnished half-armour gleaming, did not strike such a relaxed pose. Their weapons were at the ready, archers trained on the Kirins, and all ready to fall in around Isolde in a moment if they needed. His eyes scanned over them quickly, committing each face he could to memory. So, too, did he note the Grovemaster's shell cracking when Cid spoke before—anything that could threaten her hold on the situation was worthy of an immediate attack, then. There would be no dialogue with her.

After a moment, it felt like his blood thawed back out, the shock of having the two fairies dispelled passing quickly. "Your words don't add up, Grovemaster," he observed slowly. "Beyond the first. Charting whatever path you must to protect Drana Asnaeu...Yes, I'm sure you would, and would convince yourself it was correct until the Blight-beasts came and mauled you alongside your fellows. But is he a heretic, or a daemon, a hell-born deceiver? One of your education should be well aware of the differences in these terms. Are you misguided, or are you taking the play of a demagogue, playing to the prejudices of these forces you've brought with you?"

Hasted. Protected. Strengthened to almost every measure Isolde could manage in such a short time, and that was without knowing what she may have done with them before coming into view. Alongside the armour they already had, there would be no easy way to take any of them out if it should come to it.

"You speak of what is fair, yet you come prepared to get your way by any means necessary. You ask us to turn over one that saved our lives, one who we have no power over, no knowledge of which of the many hallowed grounds in this world he could have gone to, in return for empty promises, maybes, guarantees that you can't see through to their completion—after a history of deceit toward us. Truly, you advance Valheim's cause well. I only hope you haven't already sold out your crystal to them for the same such falsehoods you offer us, for if you aren't strong enough to protect yourselves, you can trust them to renege on their deal ."

If only he'd learned from Eos and Selene how to summon them. Maybe the pages they'd written on would give him some sort of an idea, when he had a chance to look at them.

"Back down, Isolde, or be remembered as the highest traitor to your people and your church, if either are left after your actions. I'm sure people will love the story of how you betrayed and attacked, in pursuit of information that didn't exist, the only nine who were actively trying to stop the invader's heels from crushing down on them."

Blades of Iron Roses: An Anime-Inspired Knight RP

Fionn MacKerracher

---

Warm snow crunching beneath his feet and a featureless moon dominating the sky over an alien forest. Had Fionn been the sort to marvel at such things, he would have; however, after years of knowing Fiadh, and everything else he'd run into during his time as a mercenary and then as a knight, he'd long since stopped being surprised at such things. Compared to Merilia's world, after all, this one was positively empty.

He spun at the same moment as Fanilly hearing the voice behind them, gazing up at the giant bird-headed man that had addressed them—and dropped instantly towards his feet, spying the trailing hair before the queen of the realm stepped out into view. Shorter than Fiadh—who, thankfully, had since gotten off his back and was contently standing to his side—but far more distinctive in appearance. Among the colorblind, Fiadh could at least pass for normal so long as they didn't look to her feet. This 'Moonlit Queen' of theirs, however...

The captain's rapidly-grown hair didn't garner much reaction from him other than his moving his feet to keep from treading upon it. Tyaethe stepped forward next, before he had the chance to speak, as Gertrude came and whispered in his ear. "I don't think the game has started yet," he whispered back. "And I don't think this is one she's going to play over."

Nor did it make much sense to waste time when they were in a place where they were at many disadvantages compared to its creator. He stepped forward, over Fanilly's trailing locks, one hand placed on Tyaethe's shoulder and pulling her back a bit as he passed to the front. "Do you mean the one that disabled it at the very last, or the one that took out its heart?" he asked, facing the short, antlered girl with a friendly smile.

Dissembling would only waste time, and outright lying would make their job likely far harder than needed; better to get to the heart of things as quickly as possible.

The fae girl had turned her frown from the captain to Tyaethe, but now turned to look up at him with a curious glance, lip half-curled into a fresh grin. "Of course I mean its heart," she replied, cocking her head again. "Are you all going to be so silly about this~?"

"Aye, well, that was me, then!" he replied without missing a beat, pulling his sword partway out of its scabbard at his belt to show the burnt-out runework, alongside the ruined hilt furniture on the otherwise-pristine blade. "Led to this, too, so I'm sure our smith won't be too happy with me. Good work on your guardian."

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Esben Mathiassen

---

A shock ran up Esben's outstretched arm as the point of his sword connected, driving through scales rent asunder by the blast from the miniature cannons on the reverse of his shield. Just as quickly she reared, a mighty shake sending Esben flying off. He twisted in the air again, landing with his feet and one hand to the floor, skidding backwards a ways as he came to a stop from getting launched away from the writhing Eidolon. He stood straight as soon as he was done, blood dripping from the hand still gripping his buckler where the skin had been ripped by his backwards slide.

Selene and Eos both darted his way, hovering just beside either of his shoulders as the truth of what had been happening was revealed at last. As he'd come to expect, it was a trap, it was the wrong ritual...and Isolde had lied to them. He spared a single glance where Eve stood behind Cid, nodded at the latter—

And immediately swung upwards with his sword, knocking the point of Miina's up into the air and shocking the diminutive Mystrel into almost immediate silence.

Not that he expected they'd be able to get out of this without cutting or blasting their way through, but nearly the entirety of the party needed to take the moment they had to breathe. Especially when the foe facing them next was completely fresh, and had more than double their number. So, let them breathe, and he would probe a bit...and hopefully they would be inclined to let him do the talking for once.

"Deception does come easily with power, doesn't it?" he asked urbanely, walking up to the front and facing the youngest Grovemaster. "I'd always thought it would be a difficult thing, to lie and use people so often, but I suppose it really isn't. I suppose Zacharias was just as useful for you, hmm?" It wasn't lost on him that the eldest of them had been the most opposed to having anything to do with them...nor that, compared to Zacharias's shock and Alambert's impassivity, Isolde alone had been the one to openly think over it as though there was something to what they said when they gave Cid's name.

Moreover, that she had been the only one to offer any arguments as to why Neve could not come along. "You saw a chance to gain this the second Izayoi mentioned him, ja? Was it your suggestion from the start?" He, at least, seemed to have some genuine enjoyment in thinking through the steps of the plan she'd had in place. "I'm curious what heresy you refer to, though, before we can make a decision on the matter. Of those who know of his existence, I can think of rather few that would accuse him of such."

He smiled at the mousy woman and her entourage.

"Do you think to deal with them, buy yourself some time, and rely on the alliance to hold them off when they inevitably come knocking again? Or are you just tired of being under their thumb?"

ArrowFell: The Wizard Queen's Court

yay

ArrowFell: The Wizard Queen's Court

Callum Prosser

---

Callum raised an eyebrow at how quickly Anabel's mood shifted. "I'm overjoyed to know I'm not in trouble for listening to our boss," he replied drily. He nearly reached out to pat her head, before feeling eyes on his back. Just as he turned to see who might have been staring at him he was addressed by the culprit, with the offer of yet more work to content himself with. He looked across the waves, the great green form of the dragon being taken in tow by some of Duchess Agustria's boats.

Thought for a moment about it, and shook his head. "I'm sure he's looking forward to the chance to talk with me again," he replied wryly. "Not that that's done well for him. Let him sit on the ride back. Send a message over, make sure they've got him bound well—he's fast and he's got a few tricks to make sure you can't see the knives in his hands. I'll stop by and see him when we're back on dry land if I get the chance."

Given the trouble Raiden had given him, it was tempting to consider just what he could do to the man without any guards watching. Too tempting; but regardless, it was clear that the Sparrow had decided to make them enemies down in the Minstrel's hold, and hadn't spared much consideration at all for Callum or Anabel's continued presence when he decided to join in attacking the ship they were on. Callum didn't have much further consideration or pity to spare the man, certainly not after how the rest of his day had just gone.

He had one thing on his mind.

"For now, I need to find something to eat. That was a lot of work down there, making sure I wasn't swallowed!"

He glanced down at Anabel almost immediately after saying that, jaw slamming shut. Was she distracted enough with the necklace to have not noticed that? He hoped so. Evidently she had worried enough even without knowing of that small wrinkle in the plan. Nor did he know why she worried so much in the first place. How did she and the guards say it? 'He's with House Furino, I'll take responsibility for him?' How literally did she intend that...

Maybe he had two things on his mind.

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Esben Mathiassen

---

Thankful as he was that Éliane had managed to bring her cannon to bear at last, his ears weren't terribly pleased with the sudden roar of high-volume fire coming from just behind him. Eos, still low to his chest, had already plugged her ears as tightly as she could as he dropped back behind cover. Still, his hearing wasn't so overwhelmed that he couldn't recognize everything else that had just been done as Leviathan began bellowing at them. "I would rather like it if she would calm down," he groused, watching as the head that had just been behind him suddenly placed itself well ahead of him.

"Or at least if I'd had a chance to plan for all this nonsense. I knew we would never be able to rely on overwhelming firepower forever."

"You mean you didn't have a plan for this?!"

"Do I look like I make a habit of fighting beasts and Eidolons?"

Rudolf slid under a strike, lashing out with one of his own. Behind him, Miina called out for cover, and he could see her out of the corner of his eye running for Leviathan's tail. "Selene!" he called out to the purple-hued fairy, hovering near Rudolf. "On Miina!" He couldn't offer much cover beyond trying to catch her, but with some help from Selene she might manage to react to anything in time to keep from needing it. "Eos, you get up to Rudolf. I don't think he was ready for that. Someone will be behind you to drag him out of the way if necessary."

Both fairies darted off instantly, two blurs of light streaking through the air. Selene tracked Miina easily, transferring her speed to the diminutive mage; and Eos, hands outstretched, hovered near Rudolf as he began to slow back to normal. "Robin, get up to her head, see if you can't keep her blinded! Éliane, you have anything to help with that?" He set the rifle back down next to her, drawing out his sword and buckler. "If so, I'd prefer you use it. Just don't hit me."

With the rest keeping Leviathan distracted, and with the clear damage she had suffered and energy she had spent, it was a simple matter for Esben to make his own quick advance. Wide bounds carrying him forward at a rapid pace—behind a pillar, next leaping behind Arton, spinning on the ball of his lead foot and leaping atop one of the coils of Leviathan's body—he closed the distance rapidly. From behind Rudolf's arc of flame he leaped atop another of Leviathan's coils, pushed off of it to alight atop a broken pillar. Jumped from it to the next, higher up; scrambled up part of a wall, ran across an arch, sailed over to the next pillar, up above the Eidolon's snapping head.

He may have lacked Galahad's ability to take to the air like the dragons he hunted, or any of the magics or technologies the others could bring to aid in their attack. But he was sure-footed, and as Izayoi first had learned, more than capable of keeping up without a boost to his speed.

A little bit of solid luck burning in his pocket for good measure, just to make sure everything lined up his way and footfall landed perfectly, only helped.

He kicked off the top of the pillar as a globe of water slammed into it. He twisted in midair, slapping aside a chunk of the stone shrapnel that came his way. In response, the second gemstone that he'd set in the handle of the buckler began to glow as well as he started falling towards the top of Leviathan's head, lending extra weight to his blade, as well as—

A fireball erupted from his left fist as he turned the buckler sideways, heavy lead balls flying out with a crack like Éliane's rifle. Where they aimed to slam into Leviathan's scales and blast them aside or crumple them inward, he turned with the recoil, descending point first for the same spot. This farce ends now!

Fate/Illuminate Histoire

Lancer

---

@Fish of Oblivion

---

Evidently, not every servant shared Lancer's desire not to make themselves as obvious as possible. As he'd warned his master, he'd been aware of the other approaching for quite a while; said other rapidly became aware of him, eyes falling right where Lancer stood, staring back. As if that was not brazen enough, the other never once looked away; he stopped, calling over to him, words magically carried straight to his ears.

Lancer's face was an impassive mask as he looked on towards the slender man that was calling out. Taller than most, professionally dressed, but not particularly heavily built. Not that there was too much to draw from that in terms of conclusions—not enough to decide who he was, but it gave some clues as to how he might fight. Even if he was disinclined to engage in such so far.

Noticing him so clearly and easily, though...

Lancer stepped out from the trees, sauntering up to the shorter man with his hands held loosely at his sides. He did not, however, offer any greeting in return.

"Beatrice. Evidently one of them desires to talk. I'll humor him for a bit. Be careful when you leave."

He stopped a couple yards away, his stone-faced stare not having let up at all. Even without words, the message was clear enough—speak your piece or quit wasting our time.

The Elder Scrolls VI: Sentinel

Keirthanil

---

"Yes, if you wish to sell the strength of your body to any who need a thug or desire mere entertainment, I doubt any of us have the desire to stop you. Just so long as you remember that we aren't supposed to make ourselves too noticeable as of yet." He glanced over at their minotaur, and then once at Rela, before he snorted. "Too much more, rather. I'm sure I'll have to keep an eye on my own back the entire time we're here."

While Sentinel was far more lush than it had been in prior centuries, the Alik'r desert shrinking more and more away from it, it was still the capital of the kingdom, and the backwards warriors who wandered within the desert proper still would make their way in and out of the city on a regular basis. While all of Hammerfell had suffered in the conflicts with the Aldmeri dominion, the desert dwellers maintained the greatest chip on their shoulders, it seemed like. Any Altmer was suspect; being one of upper class background, and a mage at that, only made one more of a threat in their eyes.

It was surprisingly intelligent, for one of the races of mankind.

Meanwhile, he was left sharing a glorified doss-house outside the city walls, lacking his library, lacking the majority of his equipment, sweltering in the heat that suffused the region. While the true desert may have been further inland, the coasts were rapidly coming to resemble swamp or jungle territory, and the city proper was not avoiding that fate for long.

Hot and humid, when the wind blew from the sea; hot and dry when it blew from inland. Uncomfortable either direction.

Where the minotaur shined his helmet, and the Telvanni girl contented herself with writing scrolls, Keirthanil was grinding ingredients together for some potions as they all sat. Flax seeds, stinkhorn caps, and blackberries. Nothing inspiring, especially given that he'd not had the time to piece together any of the equipment he'd unfortunately had to leave behind when he was ran out of the Summerset Isles. A mortar and pestle, glass bottles, a few ingredients...

And that was all.

Ah, what a cursed life...

He had no clue what the Dragonguard or the Vigilant intended to do; perhaps they would join the other knightly-sort in finding whatever existed akin to the fighters' guild. Lacking any knowledge of who they could most easily take funds from, then, the red-head at least had the right idea in pursuing some sort of service providing. "I suppose I'll make a trip to the market when I have the chance. We'll all need materials before too long, and alchemists, enchanters, and spell-scribers are always easy niches to compete in. I doubt they've many here that could put up much challenge for either myself or the Telvanni, given neither the Synod nor the College of Whispers have much presence here. Hedge mages can never put up much of a fight against those with a real education."

He looked back at Rela, nearly done with another scroll. "Revenge quests need funds as well, after all, and selling scrolls for those unintelligent enough to actually learn is an easy way to make a profit."