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18 days ago
Current Stop being passive aggressive. Just be aggressive.
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1 yr ago
It is certainly not 'optimal', but it *is* doable, depending on what you want to do with it. You could go swords or valor bard and play them more like a warrior with some magical ability
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2 yrs ago
One might say your villain arc has begun. Embrace it.
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2 yrs ago
Man do I love watching the circus
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Galahad Caradoc

Mentions: @HereComesTheSnow, @VitaVitaAR


Galahad wasn't exactly thrilled to be stepping into an inn that saw most of its traffic as valheimr officials, but they didn't exactly have anywhere else to stay. As noted before, their group was hardly subtle. Camping outside of town was just asking to be investigated by a passing Valheim patrol. Plus, they were already in the inn, leaving now would just attract more attention.

It wasn't hard to miss the glares thrown their way, were they that obviously Edreni? Well, maybe a few of them more obvious than others. Robin for instance- while not technically dressed in the full regalia of an Edren Officer, was pretty darned close. Galahad noticed the exchange she had with the shinobi, given her demeanor, he perhaps shouldn't have been too surprised with the interaction, but it caught him off guard nonetheless. Luckily the monster hunter Rudolf was quicker on the draw than he.

"Edren and Osprey hadn't gotten along for a long time even before the war." Galahad noted quietly as he shifted in his seat next to the other Edreni. "The war was a product of some generations of bad blood between our countries, and, much like Edreni, Ospreans are a prideful people. If looks could kill, we'd have been dead long before we entered these doors. At the very least I would be. Ospreans think about as favorably of Dragoons as we do their Samurai."

Galahad shifted again, his armor creaking subtly beneath his cloak. Not unlike Izayoi in Midgar, it was perhaps in their best interests if he kept his identity on a need to know basis. The last thing they needed was an old Osprean warrior recognizing his name or face and either running to Valheim- or pulling together a mob. "The two of you have your heads in the right places. We have the opportunity to do some real good here. I'm unsure if it'll make a difference in the grand scheme of things, but perhaps we can change the minds of these people."

Galahad glanced about the room and sighed, "But for now, perhaps introductions are best left to those who won't be starting off on the wrong foot." He snorted lightly, gesturing towards Esben and Elaine chatting up their no-longer-as-cold shinobi guide. "At least she doesn't look at Elaine as though she wants to rip her guts out."
In SPIRITUM 8 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay





Gerard Biserus


"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" Gerard continued to repeat as he scrabbled out of the way of the incoming bots and pulled himself off the ground. Luckily, the rest of the squad was quicker to recover themselves. Splitting up into two ad-hoc groups to face down the two threats, Gerard quickly threw himself behind the relatively smaller form of Val as she began to open up on one of the robots with her weapon. Glowing mist projectiles streaked across the air like tracers, each shot making Gerard brace for a resulting explosion to turn them into dust, but thankfully nothing of the sort happened. "Mist pockets are still everywhere! Watch where you're moving!"

Valerie's projectiles left small, fist sized dents against the front plate of the mech's armor, ricocheting and streaking away as they bounced off its armor- though she at the very least seemed to have grabbed its attention. Short its cannon, the mech seemed to resort to its secondary weapons- a heavy fist, as it stomped towards the smaller WARDEN. It didn't notice until too late that Kalina was flanking it, turning as she jumped and struck at its optics. Housed inside the heavy blue-metal alloy and set into its shoulders, the mech was better protected than it would've otherwise been, Kali's strike ripping apart its outer armor and sinking into the head unit- two of the eyes flickered as the edge of her blade met vulnerable mechanics underneath, but before Kali's blade could get any deeper, a heavy metal hand grabbed her leg and haphazardly flung her out of the way.

Turning to face Kalina, the machine staggered as a heavy chunk of metal struck it in the back, followed by two more. Standing a short distance behind Val, Gerard's face was straining as he lifted chunk after chunk of debris and launched it at the enemy robot. While the impacts were heavy, the damage was seemingly minimal. Another shot from Val's gun dented its shoulder and drew its attention again, the damaged machine struggling to maintain focus on a target. As the machine refocused its attention on Val, Gerard reached behind the robot with his telekinesis, throwing Kali high up into the air towards it, chunks of metal flying up into the air with her to be used as handholds and places to kick off of.

"Hit it again! Same place!"

Collette Van Skymning


"W-what? He did?" Even without seeing her face, it was obvious how doubtful her tone was, but as Justice had bade, the princess in the dark did seem to listen quietly as the WARDEN laid out the situation. There was silence for a single, long moment, but eventually the glow within seemed to dim and then wink out, though her mist presence seemed to feel just as strong as before. In the dark, the shaky voice returned.

"A-alright, I'm coming out."

There was some struggling, and some grunting, but eventually, through the bent and battered doors of the escape shuttle, a thin, somewhat battered and disheveled woman clambered out. Perhaps not having been buckled in properly, the woman looked dazed and a bit injured, but capable of climbing and casting spells at the very least. Her long dark hair was a mess, but her eyes were a bright green, appearing to almost glow faintly in the mist filled dark. Anyone that had paid any amount of attention to intel sheets on the Vangar Royal Family could easily confirm this was indeed Princess Collette Van Skymning, youngest child of the Emperor.

As the Princess looked up and spotted Justice, she gasped and took a half step back towards the wrecked escape shuttle. "W-WARDENs? What are you doing here? Where's Albriech? How-"

A bow of light materialized in her hands again, though it was obvious at a glance that she wasn't looking at Justice, rather she was looking past her at her comrades behind them fighting in the distance, and another robot crawling out of the rubble, this one turning its attention to the lone WARDEN and princess. A blast of lightning flew towards them, narrowly missing the two women, and striking the door of the shuttle. Luckily, at this distance, they were more or less away from any of the large Mist Pockets. Large, fearful green eyes glanced at Justice for instruction, now seemingly fully onboard with the idea of leaving now and talking later.

Back with the Barghests


As Morden charged his target bot, it leveled its arm cannon at him in an attempt to gun him down. The barrel crackled and charged, but the large WARDEN was already on top of it, cannon firing harmlessly into the air as the heavyweight impacted with it. The blade sank hilt deep into its robotic skull, the light in its eyes instantly winking out as it staggered backwards. Hoping for a kill, Morden might have been surprised as he hit the ground, a wild swing from a heavy fist connected with his chest, his hefty defenses the only thing that stopped the robot from caving in his ribcage.

Seemingly blind, the robot now lurched forward, cannon arm stabbing into the ground harmlessly next to Morden as it continued to swing and strike wildly, looking to find Morden and then mulch him with repeated blows. Just behind the two of them, Silje had found a mist pocket, and instead of warning them to stay away from it, she seemed to be actively agitating it, all the while encouraging Morde to push the robot back just a bit. The mist pocket reacted strongly, flickering hungrily as it seemed to grow even more in intensity. Primed and ready to be set off- so long as the young WARDEN had a way of stopping it from spreading.
Galahad Caradoc



The newcomers had integrated into their group as smoothly as they could've hoped. They had yet to see combat together since their introduction, but at the very least no one had seemed to try to bite each other's heads off yet. In fact, for the most part it seemed as though everyone was getting along well enough. There hadn't been enough time to get to know everybody particularly well, but enough small talk and observations on the road and Galahad had a decent enough idea of everybody's general strengths. The journey was long, and there'd be plenty of time to learn about them on an individual level as time moved forward.

Perhaps wisely, Galahad had thrown a heavy traveling cloak over his more vibrant armor- better to not stand out when traveling through unknown territory, his helmet sat in a sack by his saddle, and his halberd was also wrapped in heavy leathers and cloths. It was hard to hide the fact that he was armed, but at the very least he didn't look like an Edreni Dragoon deep in Osprean land.

Osprey itself was in a sorry state, the village they had come upon could hardly be called a village. If anything it appeared more like a plantation, from the healthy state of the crops, and the opposite in its people. If Izayoi's anger was true, it seemed like this was the new norm of this land.

"How terrible." Galahad said softly, viewing the sad sight before them. With Osprey under its grip it was only natural that the neighboring land of Edren was next- if their attempted assassination of the king was anything to go by. "The sooner we cut the head off the snake, the better."

Galahad had noticed the Viera before she spoke, also noting the icy crack on her visage when seeing him- He wasn't surprised the Edreni weren't particularly welcome in these parts, though he didn't quite understand the exchange with Izayoi. It seemed that they were noticed not long after crossing the border though. A group their size wasn't easy to mask, and a party of disparate cultures and people was easy to notice, even if he wished otherwise.

"She's not wrong. Our group is hardly inconspicuous." Galahad sighed. "If we're to find information on the Blight and disrupt the Valheim leadership, we'll not do it by throwing ourselves headfirst at Kugane's walls. Trust her or not, we need to get into Kugane, and discreetly at that."

Galahad glanced back at the party, before returning Izayoi's gaze with a shrug. "We're still a night and day away from Kugane, so we needn't commit wholly just yet. But, unless any of our Garden friends knows a way to sneak an armed group into a foreign city undetected, I say we take the offered invitation. And if it is a trap, you'll get to cut your way through an entire city's worth of Valheim soldiers. Sounds like a win-win."
Jackie "Frost" Hara



Frost's eyes barely flickered up from behind her cards as Nadya introduced the two of them to the rest of the assembled runners. A shaman, another adept and a technomancer. A motley crew if she'd ever seen one- though then again most assembled runner crews were. At least they checked most of the necessary boxes of a crew. Frost preferred running jobs with just Nadya and herself, cleaner and less corners to watch, but such was the nature of freelance work outside of their usual circles. She was used to it, if still not somewhat grumpy about it.

"Da." Frost grunted in agreement, with Wildfire, her own way of an introduction. Her voice was a low, gravelly, but still feminine baritone. "Pretty as picture."

Frost shifted in her seat, her boot lifting to rest on an impressively large duffel bag of presumably gear. Beneath the fabric, untold pounds of metal, plastics and composites jingled and clacked against one another. "People seem to stay on my good side wherever I go. Guess I have a way with words."

Frost chuckled a bit to herself at the poorly disguised joke, the rumble quickly dulling as she took a look at her hand- or more specifically the tiny cards within it. She dipped her hand forward, a thick hand backstopping the flying chip and lightly dropping it into her own, quickly diminishing piles of caps and tchotchkes.

"I'd be doing a lot better if you hadn't dealt me the same hand four games in a row." The troll grumbled, setting the cards down and standing up, finally frustrated enough to give up on the game. Her horns almost scraped the top of the plane as she stood to her full height. "How much longer until we land?"

Frost looked back and forth, seemingly displeased with how little space there was to walk around in on the plane before sitting back down, this time next to her adoptive sister instead of across.

"You need to rest." She urged quietly. "Can't watch my back if you can't keep your eyes open."
Galahad Caradoc



The Valheim remnants fought hard, but somehow this disparate group of strangers and newcomers fought harder. While outnumbered, on an individual level, it was obvious that they each vastly outmatched the regular Valheim soldier. Be it the two men that came out of one of the huts, blades flashing as they waded their way through the enemies. One was light and fast, the other was larger and more deliberate, obviously trained in martial discipline despite their unorthodox fighting style, though the way he moved suggested he might've been better off with a larger weapon- like the one one his back. The mages that came to their aid with fire and ice, though both were small enough that they almost escaped Galahad's notice. To finish routing the enemy, yet another came to their aid, dashing in with all the gusto of cavalry came a well dressed woman with thrusting sword in hand. Galahad himself only needed to dispatch a few more soldiers with his halberd before the Valheim morale finally shattered and the soldiers began their retreat.

Though not one to chase down routing soldiers, Galahad nevertheless kept up the pressure until they were well and truly out of the vicinity, close enough to be nearby Izayoi as she pinned down the last remaining fusilier. He grimaced as Izayoi pulled off the man's helmet. Man. In truth the soldier was closer to a boy. Gerant's face flashed in place of the young soldier's. Galahad stood still for a moment as he watched Izayoi interrogate the Valheim soldier with his brother's face. He frowned, and the grip around the haft of his halberd tightened- perhaps she was a demon after all. At the very least the title of Limbtaker seemed apt. Perhaps he should've done as his father commanded and remove her head- while her back was turned to him was the easiest chance he'd get. Looking away didn't help- he even heard Gerant's voice in place of the Valheim soldier's. He opened his mouth to object, but the samurai finished her quick interrogation before he had the chance. At the very least his helmet hid the look on his face, though his pause was notable before he nodded to her.

"The heart of Valheim operations would be the place to find information." He replied somewhat stiffly, "Kurogane is the logical move."


Camp found them with some relative peace from the bloodshed. Galahad seemed to have relaxed more, his helmet sitting at his feet while he ate, glancing at the newcomers with interest. For all of his misgivings about the samurai, she was right. One was fortuitous enough a coincidence, five was well past bordering on suspicious. At the very least enough for him to keep the majority of his armor on until he knew their motives.

The first two were simple enough- one outright admitted he was from Skael's Garden. Incidentally heading the way they were. "Friend of yours?" He offered Elaine with a raised eyebrow. The other man, Rudolf, also looked young. Even moreso than the Valheim soldier from earlier, this one reminded him of Gerant. A bit on the thin side, but seemingly confident enough- if a bit skittish beneath- also like Gerant.

"Just Galahad is fine." he replied to shorter blonde, "I've heard of Sagramore, a few of our initiates go there to learn monster hunting before returning to Midgar. I learned many of my fundamentals there."

In contrast, the mages were considerably smaller, bordering on miniscule. The one that had assisted him was Eve, and looked like no more than a child, if set with some strange accents- mainly the horns and tail. Her explanation was simple, if sad, and all the more reinforced Galahad's theory that the Blight might have been a manufactured occurrence by Valheim. The mage that assisted Arton was a skittish little one, having come to Osprey in search of her brother. An admirable goal, though Galahad was surprised she'd travel alone.

The last to join their number struck him as the gallant type, and while Galahad did not recognize their face, he had heard vague tales about a Robin Fey, not much around Midgar itself, but in and out of some of the smaller townships in Northern Edren, within Midgar's sphere of influence. The sparkles were a nice touch as well, memorable.

"Well met, all of you." Galahad nodded to the newcomers, taking stock of each of them in turn. "I am Galahad Caradoc." he stated simply, omitting his titles again, much like when they first set off.

"I am nominally the leader of this small group." He continued, gestured to those on his side of the fire, "One of a few tasked by King Leonhart to search for the cause of the Blight, and hopefully put an end to it."

He glanced at the others in his party before continuing, gauging their response to the newcomers. "Our search takes us to Valheim controlled Osprey. It seems we're all heading in the same direction for one reason or another.
In SPIRITUM 8 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Gerard Biserus


"Well, here's to hoping it wasn't us." Gerard drawled, nodding as Kalina returned with her own report. "Shooting the messenger isn't a great start for peace talks. Besides, I'd like to think we'd do a cleaner job of it."

"Don't wanna take anyone with you? Promise I won't talk your ear off. Gerard remarked as Justice gave them their general marching orders- it was starting to feel a lot like the simulations again. "At least take Kali with- actually nevermind, she's liable to shoot something if it jumps out at you."

As Justice headed off to go search for a princess in distress, the rest of them moved to join Morden and Silje. Val leaping off with her vestigial wings, while Gerard plodded along behind her, only pausing occasionally to throw the occasional pebble with simple light charms into any of the invisible mist-pockets he noticed. Most of them began to float as they hit the pockets- should they need to leave in a hurry, it'd make spotting the pockets easier at least.


"You weren't kidding when you said you found a 'bot." Gerard grimaced as they regrouped. Here, in the heart of the crash, the air felt even heavier. Gerard felt rather than saw mist, and often described his perception of mist to be like clay: Something simple and easy for him to mold precisely into whatever he needed, from his weapons to healing spells. In here, the air felt less like maleable clay and more like an amorphous sludge or putty. To make matters worse, one stream of putty that Silje was interacting with felt different from the rest.

"Hey Sil, I don't know if that's a good idea-" Gerard had managed to start, but it was too late.

As soon as Silje's being made contact with the weird mist, she immediately felt sick, as though her stomach had decided to do half a dozen somersaults in a single second. The feedback was visible, an inky black spark originating from the mist flew out and struck her in the forehead, knocking the small WARDEN clean off of her larger mount.


Justice's search ended not too far from the rest of the squad, just separated by a few dozen meters of mountainous metal rubble, fire and mist, near the edge of the crater. The presence she detected seemed to be coming from a dented and battered life boat. A fully enclosed escape-pod like device, meant to sit a few individuals, it seemed to have been launched a few seconds too late, its parachute apparently getting struck by and caught on the crashing ship. It's door had been knocked clean off by the impact and was warped and angled in a way that one would have to squeeze to get out. With her keen senses, Justice could make out what appeared to be a mixture of sobs and labored breathing.

Perhaps spotting a silhouette or somehow detecting her presence, as Justice approached the battered pod, from somewhere within she could see a flash of white-yellow light. Someone obviously skilled was preparing a spell- though perhaps unfamiliar with the dangers of firing spells off in such a volatile area.

"W-who's there?!" A shaky voice called out from within the dark pod. "A-albriech?"


"Jeez Silje, what were you thinking?" Gerard half complained as he began making his way over to the little battle mage. "Vacation's not over yet, can't have you keeling over before-"

Gerard blinked and paused, he could've sworn he heard the sound of metal shifting. Throwing his gauntlet into the air at the last moment, he managed a startled "Gah! Fuck!" across the squad communication spell as a blast of electricity cut through the air and slammed into his gauntlet, ricocheting high into the air and sending the gauntlet flying towards his face. The impact of his gauntlet caused his aegis to shatter like glass.

Climbing out of the rubble was another one of the robots that Morden had found, this one fully possessing all of its limbs, though it seemed to have taken just as much damage to its thick armor plating. The cannon on its arm smoked faintly as it's heavy fist pushed aside rubble to climb into the space proper. A Vangar sword-type gunblade stuck out of one of its four glowing eyes, only having sank in an inch. To make matters worse, Gerard felt the rubble behind him shifting as well, a second robot, this one considerably more damaged, missing its cannon arm, but still more than willing to use its remaining arm to attempt to bludgeon them into paste on the ground.
Galahad Caradoc



A blue-white streak of lightning caught the dragoon's weapon as it fell through the sky, the halberd itself briefly disappearing as the growing electricity enveloped it. Guided by Galahad's throw, the bolt of lightning homed in on the juggernaut, striking the bruiser with an overwhelming amount of energy, Galahad himself crashing down a moment later as earth, armor and flesh sundered from the impact. A deafening thunderclap followed in his wake as Galahad staggered and pulled himself out of the crater. Unfortunately, little time was given for him to recover, as almost immediately, Galahad felt himself being hit with a magical hailstorm, shards of ice cracking across his armor like arrows or bullets, more than one piercing through his armor and puncturing the skin below.

Turning to face the oncoming threat, Galahad found himself face to face with a column of infantry, seemingly set on holding him in place as the conjurer's storm slowly whittled him down. Even taking losses, it seemed Valheim were well trained and practiced in contingency plans. Luckily, Galahad wouldn't have worry about them for long- as an electrified firestorm swept through the Valheim ranks. Had Galahad not been in the middle of being pelted by magic, he might've taken stock of the mysterious mage that came to his aid- as well as the trio of adventurer types that seemed to have came out of the woodwork to help his party. Questions and confusion would have its time later, for now an enemy of my enemy would have to do- and Galahad was grateful for the assistance.

Rushing the conjurer, Galahad sprang and weaved past chunks of flying ice as the spellcaster attempted to hold him at bay. His spellcasting was efficient, well practiced, but measured and therefore slower than the dragoon. Diving over a spear sized icicle and rolling across the ground, Galahad converted the momentum into a throw of his halberd, the heavy weapon flying across the street and striking the conjurer's staff as he dodged out of the way. As the dragoon quickly closed the distance and retrieved his weapon, the valheim conjurer drew a dagger in an attempt at a final defense. As the conjurer lunged forward, Galahad batted the arm away with a flourish of his halberd, the razor edge of the heavy blade taking the unarmored spellcaster's wrist off in the process. Couching the weapon beneath his arm, Galahad stabbed forward with the spike at the butt of his weapon, piercing the conjurer before the weapon draw back and swung, the axe cleaving into his torso.

Finally with a moment of reprise, Galahad took a deep breath, as he took stock of the remaining battle. The Valheim forces were in disarray, the disappearance of their leader, and the loss of their lieutenants and any other member of significant seniority seemed to have left them without guidance, though their morale, while shaken seemed to hold strong enough that soldiers continued to fight hard even as they fell. The timely appearance of these new strangers seemed to have only sealed their fate, though apparently no one had told them. Though they lacked both leadership and magic support, Valheim still outnumbered them with infantry and fusiliers, what individuals remained reforming into ad-hoc groups to better defend themselves, beginning to make their way towards and cluster themselves around the last place their commander had been seen.

"One more push and their backs will break!" Galahad called out. He had to hand it to them, at least they had some discipline about them, even if Izayoi's wrath would inevitably wash over them. "Don't let them regroup!"
ECHO DOMAIN - PLATFORM #2884


Acknowledged. Priority targets confirmed. Recommend Evac. Echo's voice crackled as the Endoform lit up the target once again with an extended burst from its autocannon. The threat seemed to have protection from directed energy and beams, but nothing could withstand enough sustained fire for too long. Unlike regular humans, or even power armor clad humans, recoil was less an issue for a being of stone and metal. No matter how hard the weapon bucked, it was as much a part of Echo as its armor was. Add on top of it bioguided shells to make up for any recoil, in lieu of any greater threats, Echo merely held down the trigger until its weapon barrels began to glow a faint cherry red.

Lines of tracers cut across the torso of the mech as Echo guided its weapon towards any of the vulnerable areas in view that Salvator noted. It didn't have the time or thinking capacity to single out a particular system, be it weapon, camera or antenna, instead the Endoform shifted ita focus to whichever subsystem happened to be closest to its current stream of fire. It seemed that Echo's endoform was intent on emptying its magazine before releasing the trigger.

Unfortunately for them, the mech didn't seem to be the type to just sit still.

Alert. Enemy incoming.

The mech was faster than Echo, and Echo's anti-gravity drives were already damaged. Attempting to flee from the mech was an impossibility, the mech would just shift course and intercept them. Instead, Echo turned to face the mech head on and began an offensive advance of its own, taxing its anti-grav drives as it accelerated to ramming speed.

Alert. Initiating counter charge. Brace for impact.

A game of giant robot chicken was surely unexpected. Would a pilot wonder why a machine currently operating anti-grav systems would charge a grounded vehicle? Any bit of confusion helped. If Alice managed to destroy some wheels to disrupt its charge was even better. A vehicle's handling had lag time. Lag between the pilot noticing something, thinking of what to do, inputing commands into its control system, and the machine itself reacing to said system. Echo wasn't a vehicle. Every function within its body- baring any abnormalities- moved at the speed of thought.

In full control of its speed and momentum, at the very least minute, Echo made a sudden strafe to the left and killed its anti-grav system. Wood, stone and earth crunched and crumbled as six multiton legs crashed into the ground, its 'knees' bending as they impacted. An instant later the legs forced the Warform back into the air as they kicked off, sending its hulking mass careening into the side of the charging mech. Echo doubted such a short side tackle would destroy the mech, but drastically changing its course or knocking it off its unstable wheels was a possibility, as was disorienting or injuring the fleshy pilot within the hardened steel.
In SPIRITUM 9 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Gerard Biserus


"Even on vacation we can never catch a break, huh?" Gerard chuckled as the squad quickly began tearing down their camp and loading into the truck. Tearing down the camp consisted of Gerard haphazardly throwing any and everything into the back of the truck with waves of telekinesis, pausing only to turn off the grill and fire pit before those too were unceremoniously tossed into the back of the truck. As soon as the back of the truck was clear of flying debris, the squad tumbled in. Kali and Justice climbed into the front seat, while Silje clambered on top of Morden. The rest of them made due with the back of the truck. All in all, they'd cleared up and packed in about 3 minutes. A minute later they were on- or rather off the road and headed in the direction of the crash. "Haven't even been deployed and we're on our first op already. Cell services looks like its shot- if we don’t go help them, I don’t think survivor's will make it long enough for any rescue services. Hell, the only other people who saw the crash is probably Sapple Springs, and they don’t exactly look like they have the manpower for- well, anything."

They called it the Petrified Forest National Preserve. Long before there was a Rassvet or a Vangar, this whole section of the badlands was a beautiful forest. Colossal trees bigger than any skyscraper, huge grazing beasts, and other wonders all growing huge on the Mist. After a time, the waters that once fed the area stopped coming, the ground grew dry and cracked, and things faded away. The only left were facsimiles: minerals and stone that took the shape of once living things. The squad snaked through this landscape of hills and bends. Navigating around the occasional petrified trunk of a tree that lay as if discarded by some giant after being used a toothpick. The Barghest squad arrived at the crash- or one part of the crash anyway- the truck coming to a stop upon the lip of a huge crater and staring down upon the crashed leviathan. The wrecked airship had smashed its nose into the ground like a spear from the heavens, scattering across miles of wreckage. A twisted altar composed of flame and warped metal that lit up the night around it, the long claw mark of the crashed ship large enough to fit the entirety of Sapple Springs within. Heat from fire and mist radiated from all around them and could be felt from the edge.

"Mist is going crazy here." Gerard grunted with a pained wince as he climbed out of the back of the truck, swiping his hands and conjuring a pair of heavy gauntlets that slammed into the ground next to him. Even those that weren’t as magically attuned as Silje or Val could feel it. An otherworldly and oppressive hum that seemed to encase the entire area and made his hair stand on end. It felt almost as if they were swimming on land, the very air itself was thick and lethargic with unseen heft. Ahead of them small flames burst into roaring pillars of fire as they interacted with the mist. In other small areas pieces of debris remained suspended in air as if gravity itself had turned off. In other areas still, small desert flowers bloomed and died within an instant as time sped up around them. There was an old adage about mist reactors: when they broke, reality had a habit of breaking with them. Pieces of metal lay scattered across the ground like warped and distorted bones. There was half a chair here, the broken head of a statue there, and the remnants of a bed and so on. It all seemed far too ornate for any kind of military involvement reminding Gerard more of the estates in Orestia than anything else.

Then of course there were the bodies.

Most were charred beyond recognition but some weren't. Gerard knelt down in front of one of the bodies that had been thrown to the lip of the crater, using his foot to turn the man over. A man maybe in his mid-late thirties, dark hair cut in military fashion, stubble across the jaw. It was the burnt remains of his uniform that drew Gerard’s attention the most. It was a uniform that he and the rest of the Barghest squad had been studying for years: A Vangar officer's uniform.

"Well that's fucking great." Gerard grunted as he gestured to the body. "Vangar Honorguard uniforms. If that doesn't scream diplomatic envoy I don't know what does."

"So much for peace talks, huh?"
Gerard remarked dryly, "That being said, I don't recall there being any significant-or any SAM emplacements around Sapple Springs."



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