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3 mos ago
Current Holiday hiatus coming to a close, updates for all soon!
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5 mos ago
Stop being passive aggressive. Just be aggressive.
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2 yrs 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
2 likes
2 yrs ago
One might say your villain arc has begun. Embrace it.
5 likes
2 yrs ago
Man do I love watching the circus
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Gerard Biserus



The spooks and their goons may have had the drop on them, but the WARDENs' reaction time was hard to beat- it helped that they had Justice's razor edged reactions, not to mention that most of them already felt something off coming in. The flashbang exploded with a deafening crack, or what would've been a deafening crack had a man not been flung over it. The body, held down by the weight of Morden's foot absorbed the light and blast, and the large WARDEN could feel the sickening crack of the man's ribs caving in from the concussive force of the explosive.

But now was hardly the time to mention that. Pistols and SMGs cracked and barked as the WARDENs defended and armed themselves, Gerard bending down to relieve a body of its holstered sidearm. A support and battle mage, Gerard felt naked without his magic, but as WARDENs, they were far from defenseless. Even as they cleared the room and began to prep a hasty exit, Gerard could feel the Astral Mist slowly starting to filter back into their immediate surroundings. Not enough for big flashy spells, but enough for Gerard to catch another flashbang in the air as it was thrown through the door Morden had kicked down and back from whence it came.

Crack

The flashbang exploded in the landing outside the office, and Gerard quickly swatted Morden's back to signal the big man forward. Gerard leaped out from behind him, commandeered pistol emptying half of its magazine into the landing as they came upon a pair of dazed Rassvet troopers. Dead, down, didn't matter, as long as they were out of the fight. A flurry of gunfire was fired blindly up the stairs from down below in an attempt to keep the WARDENs trapped upstairs, Gerard barely registered the sound of breaking glass from the room next to them.

The upstairs of this townhouse didn't give them much to work with, the landing with the stairs held only a few rooms, the office that they were just in and the connecting room that Dirk had pulled Collette into, on the other side was a bathroom and a bedroom.

"These two aren't spooks." Gerard commented as he relieved the two downed soldiers of their weapons and ammo, tossing short carbine rifles and spare magazines towards the squad. "Unit insignia looks like regular infantry."

The gunfire from downstairs paused, and they could hear the sounds of firearms racking as some amount of the squad below them reloaded weapons. Sounded like they were getting ready to come up soon.

"What's the call? We mowing down our own guys?" Gerard asked, not that they weren't already doing that. "Other room connects to the balcony I think, Spook might've taken the princess and bailed off." He added, as he ejected the half spent magazine and put it back into his pocket, reindexing it as he inserted a fresh one. His nose wrinkled a bit as he tested the air.

Local Mist back to half capacity, comms are back, pockets too- enough for maybe one, two big spells if we don't have to share.

Hey all, things have been pretty busy on my end, admittedly.

For me, the plot has felt a bit unfocused- that's not meant as a failing on the part of the gm, but a sort of open do whatever sandbox isn't really my jam.

As far as the jester goes, I don't think it was a bad idea, but the stakes given the setting doesn't really add up. If we're playing a group of regular gamers, there isn't much point of searching for/hunting down a cheater that presumably can't be killed- not a whole lot they can do about him really. I wasn't super enthused with the fact that the whole party was defeated without even being able to put up much of a fight, it just kinda cemented the fact that they as regular players were helpless against the jester, and so should just avoid him rather than confront him.

It mightve been more viable if there were serious stakes that required the players to find him- maybe there's a recent virus going around that has been hurting people irl when they die in game, and the jester instead of kidnapping just any child had kidnapped one of the players siblings or something. Or found a way to prevent people from logging out, etc. Idk, just spitballing

I know I've been dragging my feet a bit on posting, but it's been a bit harder than I thought to find some motivation


The warehouse's dim lighting flickered, the shoddy light revealing stray whisps of smoke and dust that never seemed to go away. Open spaces, floor to ceiling shelves with spotty coverage, an overarching catwalk and lack of windows made the place darker than it should've been. In a small clearing, a hulking shade stood over another tied to a chair, a pair of other shadows stood just behind the larger one- all three standing silhouettes sporting rifles of some sort. The two standing seemed to be having idle conversation as the larger shadow appeared to be in the middle of an interrogation.

The sounds of soft footsteps on the other side of the door went unnoticed by all but the sharpest ears, though the silence didn't remain for long.

"Breach! Breach!"

There was a short hiss, followed by an explosion as the doors suddenly flung open. There was a quiet quartet of thumps as suppressed weapons fired, the two smaller gunmen falling immediately, one of their weapons rattling off loudly as the man held the trigger down as he fell, the metallic sounds of richochets bouncing across the open space. The large hulking would-be-interrogator immediately turned to face the incoming threat, picking the victim up out of his chair and using him as a human shield.

"Drop it! Drop the weapon!" one of the breachers barked as four of them quickly poured into the room, spreading out to clear the rest of the room and look for angles.

"Fuck you!" The hulk snarled back at them, body armor and deep green jacket glinting in the light of flashlights. The hulk had a gun pressed to the hostage's temple, pulling the two back towards the wall as he was used as a human shield.

"Gun! Gun!"
"I'm taking the shot!"
"No! Wait!"

One of the breachers fired a burst of shots. The first hit the hostage square in the chest, the second nailed him in the neck, while the third hit the hulk square in the forehead. Both figures collapsed to the ground in the corner of the room as the riflemen glanced at each other and gathered closer to the pair of bodies in the corner.

"Shit... Is it done?"
"Fuck... Check on the VIP."


As the Hulk's body hit the floor, the VIP groaning in pain. The breachers let out a sigh of relief, the VIP was still alive. Two of the gunners grabbed the hostage and pulled him up, wrenching him out of the grip of the big hulk. As the arm holding the hostage fell into view, a metal ball rolling out of the hulk's hand. A metallic spoon flung out of its place and clattered on the ground a short ways away.

"Fuck! Grenade!"
"I got it!"


The shooter dove for the grenade, throwing it under her body as the entry man grabbed and dove over the VIP, the other two taking cover as they ducked.

"Stop." The hulk growled, her eyes flickering open as she gruffly pulled herself to her feet. "Reset."

Bright ceiling lights flickered on and the hologram faded away, replacing the warehouse with wooden boxes and plywood walls, the breachers with their blue training rifles lowering them as Io stood up and wiped the paint off of his neck and chest. Paint or not, he didn't seem too happy about being shot in the throat. Frost looked equally unhappy, though perhaps for different reasons.

"I see a significant problem here. Anyone care to enlighten me on what that problem was?" Frost's voice was a heavily accented growl, like sandpaper on gravel, a deep bass that rumbled the floor. "Lin? Any guess?"

"I... I Shot the hostage in the throat." The man replied sheepishly, even beneath his balaclava and goggles one could sense the nervous sweat in the man.

"Yes. You shot Chief in the throat." Frost sighed expressively, her eyes shrouded by her hand rubbing her temples. "If you don't have a shot, don't take it. Very simple. If you're shooting, stay calm. Otherwise, open up angles for other shooters. Next. Tori, what the fuck was that?" Frost continued as she glanced down at the woman laying on top of the training grenade. "You no longer have an abdomen. Explain."

"What? I was trying to save my team!" The woman shot back indignantly as she stood up, glancing down at her torso covered in blue paint.

"Sure, great heroics you can tell the boys over a drink at the-oh wait, you're dead." Frost rolled her eyes, shooting a practice round into Tori's chest for good measure. "You're not SWAT, you're not Jaeger- hell, even Jaeger doesn't do that. Leave the movie theatrics to the movies. If a body drops a grenade, roll the body onto it. Otherwise, dive and go low. Armor should only have to take a couple bits of frag if you're lucky."

Frost paused as she glanced her phone buzzed and she glanced over at it- footage of Ren at her door banging on it and yelling for a meeting. She sighed. "Run it again. Io, keep changing up the simulations, no complacency."


The others heard Frost approaching the briefing room long before she entered it, ducking down to get beneath the door's threshold as she entered. A few of the others were already there- several more of the 'oddballs' that Tsuki had picked up over the years. Not that Frost was any exception to that. The 2 and a half meter giant stomped over next to where Michiko stood, only pausing long enough to give Mama Tsuki a respectful nod and an "Auntie." as acknowledgement. Stepping over to one of the only sofas in the room rated strong enough to support her weight and frame, Frost casually took a seat, sinking down into it, the durable plastics and metal supports whining as Frost sat.

"Somebody's been busy." Frost noted as she glanced between Tsuki, Ren and Michiko. Pulling a slightly crushed package out of her pocket, Frost tapped the bottom and fished a cigarette out with her lips, leaning over to use the lit end of Michi's like a lighter. Even sitting, she was practically as tall as Michiko was standing. "The new scope you found for the long gun has been working wonders, no more artifacts on higher zoom." Frost commented as she leaned back and took a drag.

"So, what are we looking at?" Frost mused as she glanced over at the displayed images on the projector.
Galahad Caradoc



Unsurprisingly, Isolde did not stand down. Instead, she sent her men forward to take them. Alive even, how quaint. Galahad shifted into a fighting stance, his halberd close and ready to spring forward, when the small Mystral caught his ear. His eyes darted over to Miina, who explained her plan- dispelling Isolde's protections might just give them the edge they needed. Maybe they could kill her, or at least force some of her guards to pull back to protect her, leveling the playing field a bit more. Grove Paladins were no joke after all, especially now that they were both hastened and protected by magic. Galahad nodded as Izayoi stepped in and spoke as well.

"Agreed." Galahad murmured quietly, "Kill the head, make an opening, then push through." There was no more time for planning, the knights were upon them now. Galahad took a quick glance around them, finding the man he sought. "Arton! To the front! Break through their lines!"

"Miina, I'm getting you in close. Hang on!" Galahad told the small mystral as he half helped, half threw her onto his back. As the Kirins and knights surged forward to clash, the armored dragoon leaped into the sky, air whipping around him. The two climbed steadily, Galahad's eyes quickly scanning the battlefield as he sought out both Isolde and took a quick measure of the battle below him. The knights had a decent mix of weapons, from polearms to blades and shields, as well as a few bows. It certainly wasn't some sort of ceremonial unit that was attacking them, no, these guys were ready for a fight. Using the weight of his halberd to guide his fall, Galahad's eyes locked onto Isolde, the Grovemaster white mage responsible for empowering these knights. "Break Isolde's protections, I'll keep the knights off of you." Galahad said to the red mage, "Jump back on when you're ready to leave."

Galahad streaked down towards the ground, his halberd striking before he did, as he aimed to put himself between Isolde and her nearest knights. Earth and stone sundered and cracked as Galahad landed, the dragoon wrenching his halberd out of the ground as he paused long enough for Miina to jump off of him. Galahad's electricity infused Wyrmfang began to make large, broad arcs and long stabs across the field, using his weapon's weight and range to keep the knights away from them while Miina did her work. It felt like he was fighting Ospreans in the war again, leaping into their backlines to sow chaos before leaping away. He'd force them to pay attention to his weapon, a big enough threat to pull at least a few eyes away from the front- a small advantage that the Kirins could take advantage of.

One particularly brave knight stepped forward with his sword and shield to put a stop to Galahad and Miina's actions, his bulwark powering through one of Galahad's swings as he attempted to close the distance. He lunged and swung his blade at the dragoon, faster than expected, Galahad managing to bring his halberd in at just the right time to catch part of the swing, absorbing the rest of it onto his armor. Hooking the back of his axe blade against the knight's arm, Galahad sent his weapon to the ground, opening the knight's guard enough for Galahad to step forward and deliver a devastating- leap powered drop kick to the knight's chestplate. Sabatons dented cuirass as Galahad sent the knight flying backwards- his protections would likely prevent any serious injuries, but the point was to make space.

Galahad's attention was spread out a bit more than he'd liked, but that's what he got for being a single dragoon leaping into the back instead of an entire squad. If Miina could peel away Isolde's protections, Galahad could follow up with an overhead cut with his halberd, but staying in the middle of a group of enemies was not a thing he could do for an extended period of time. Galahad glanced over at Miina, ready to get to her and leap her out of trouble when she was ready to go.


<<Good Copy, Vulture. No time for boarding, clear the firing path.>> Sagan's comms crackled, as a pair of firing lines appeared across his HUD. As soon as the Sparrowhawk and Watchdog were clear, the lines were filled with plasma as a pair of beams streaked across space and towards the motionless target. The beams scored direct hits against the ship's bridge, decapitating the ship. The remnants could be picked across by salvage and secure teams later, but the Roanoke itself didn't have the marine complement needed to raid an entire cruiser.

<<Ooh, sage advice from the old man!>> Sabine cackled over their comms, <<Don't you worry boss, I like the rank and file, I'll be sure to leave you plenty of work in the future- would hate to see you idle~>>

The trip back to the Roanoke was clear enough- as clear as a battlespace could get. There was still sporadic fighting, and areas further down the line still seemed to be in the thick of conflict, but the local space where the Roanoke was seemed to have found a lull. Enough so that Sabine could do lazy spins and spirals through space without getting her ass shot off. The Watchdog and Sparrowhawk caught up with the rest of the unit, falling in line as they were slowly welcomed back to the Roanoke. The landing process was a bit slower than usual, especially with the Blackout making a rather rough landing ahead of them, but the group more or less landed in reverse order of launch. The hangar itself was once again a hive of activity as the MAS landed, crews scrambling to rearm and patch up any damaged armor before. The sounds of welding and sparks could be heard across the hangar as the crews made rapid repairs to the Blackout in particular, techs called out and materials were rushed over as necessary. The Roanoke's shuttle bays were currently occupied as well, as a small train of personnel were loading materials and munitions onto a pair of bulk transports.

Surprisingly, it appeared that Captain Sarret herself had arrived in the hangar to personally welcome the 7th back. Despite her smaller physical stature, the woman seemed to stand tall amongst the mass of moving people, the ceramic and silver of extensive prosthetics and cybernetics on her face contrasting against the flat colors of her normal suit.

"Commander." The Captain called as the 7th disembarked from their machines. "The 5th Fleet is adjusting their timeline in response to stiffer resistance across the line. We expect to deploy in 3 hours instead of 1. Perhaps that works to our favor given the some of the damage we've sustained. Sarret frowned, glancing over at the Blackout, a crew already beginning to carve out some of the more damaged portions of the cockpit, a new section being brought over via crane. "We won't have the facilities to make such extensive repairs again, at least not on short notice- so keep that in mind. I'll make sure the rest of the crew is briefed, I'll leave the 7th to you."

"I'll go make sure Hex is still alive and drag her ass to the briefing." Sabine chimed in, conveniently skipping her last 3 pushups as she popped back to her feet and began to quickly make her way towards medical. "Good kill Rook, first one?" Sabine chirped as she pat Elliot's shoulder. "That's a case of beer for the squad. Oh, first sortie too right? That's another case. Make sure you pack a few in your cockpit before we leave." She added with a wink before disappearing down the corridor.

The Captain sighed as she watched Sabine spring away, before turning towards the rest of the squadron. "Anyway. Excellent work as always, 7th. If your all have any specific requests or needs outside of the mission, be sure to get your requisition orders in now. Otherwise, I'll leave you all to it.
Galahad Caradoc



This was absurd. The sheer insanity and convolutedness of this entire situation they found themselves in was absurd to the point of comedy. Was that why he was laughing? Galahad had watched the reveal of Cid and Isolde with a quiet interest, letting others do the talking as he regained his breath and let his muscles rest for a moment. He'd expected many things to go wrong, Isolde was oddly accommodating despite her co-leader's reluctance, but such a blatant betrayal was so obvious that Galahad had dismissed the possibility. She wanted ruined their trial and almost doomed them all to a watery death, all in a bid to bring out Cid, to bring him to justice? That was her plan? She spoke of fairness, and taking a risk on her like she did on them. A load of shit. What about this was fair?

The laugh that had started out amused, was almost manic at this point.

"What would you have done if Cid hadn't come to our aid?" Galahad asked, the mirthless laughter still weaved between his words. "Left us to become fish food and wipe your hands of it all? Save us at the last moment just to have us do it again in hopes if would work a second time? What sort of plan is that? If you were that desperate to find Cid, you could've used your words, like the peaceful and civilized Grove you claim to be. Maybe we could've dispelled your mistrust, or you could've convinced us of his treachery."

Pulling his helmet back over his face, Galahad stood, heavy halberd dragging across the dirt and stone as he swung it up and over his shoulder. He planted himself towards the front of the Kirin's formation, only right that he did. They each had their own voices, their own part to play. The vanguard was his. Behind his visor he stared daggers at the Grovemaster. "Instead you almost kill us with lies, and attempt to force our compliance with threats. There's no trust left. Even if we told you where he was, would you believe us?Or would you worry about us conspiring against you like you did to us?"

"Even if you think Skael, Osprey and Edren do nothing to stand against Valheim, what you're doing is worse than standing idly by. Perhaps we are the only ones left standing, perhaps the rest of the groups Leonhart sent out are dead or killing each other. Maybe we're the only ones standing against Valheim because people like you can't see beyond the bits of glass on your nose."

Esben and Rudolf made their appeals, threats, requests to for her to stand down and rethink her course of action. But Galahad doubted it would work, she was confident in herself, and the soldiers behind her no doubt added to her confidence. Why else would she come with an entire platoon of paladins- they were there to force the Kirin's hands, not to arrest a supposed pretender. A show of force. It'd be a fight, Galahad had no doubt about it.

"There is no choice, Isolde. You've already made it for us." Galahad growled. He glanced back at the Kirins, gauging their readiness. They were worse for wear, but compared to Eidolons and undead monster samurai, this was refreshingly mundane, if tough. Perhaps manageable even. Or at least it would've been, if Isolde hadn't bolstered the with spell upon spell. This was likely why she kept Neve away from them as well, just another way to stack the deck against them. His halberd swung forward, speartip pointed at the Grovemasters and her warriors. "What happened here, and what happens here, is on you, Grovemaster."

Galahad practically spat the last word out, the quiet rage and fury he'd been managing these past few weeks all but spilling over now, his patience spent. Everything they'd dealt with- in Edren, Osprey and now Drana Asnaeu, it seemed like misfortune traveled with them wherever they went, as though the fates themselves were hellbent on letting Valheim destroy their continent.

"Do what you must." Galahad said quietly, his grip on his halberd tightening as he twisted it. "We'll do the same."
Rathello




"Do as you please then," Rathello said with a shrug. He didn't necessarily had a need to keep the party small, but larger parties inevitably became harder to manage. But to be fair, the buffs wouldn't have been unwelcome, especially in a place as inhospitable as the ice castle. Rathello restocked his potions and met up with the rest of the party at the front of the gate. Escort missions were never much his speed, but they seemed to be inevitable in any game that he played- a part of life, one might say. He raised an eyebrow as Claudia claimed to like them.

"Really? Color me surprised. At least the escorts in ToE match our travel pace. I can't count how many games have them moving too fast to walk, but too slow to run." Glancing down at the party chat, Rathello shrugged before answering. "I can throw things if we need to keep a distance."

As the group began their trek towards the ice castle, Rathello paid little attention to the wizard NPC they were escorting, only tuning his ears into the conversation when the wizard spoke of any possible enemies or threats- the NPCs tended to drop hints at what they might have to face further on, but other than that Rath paid little attention, more content to glance at the scenery around them. He tallied up the party on his hands. Himself, Claudia, Elian, Goibnu, Uriel, Josuke and Murphwintos. As Goibnu had pointed out, they were pretty heavily skewed in the melee department, but nothing unworkable. Three backliners in Josuke, Elian and Goibnu, and three frontliners in Uriel, Claudia and himself. Murphwintos could probably switch between the two- he seemed relatively low level so it probably wouldn't do well for him to be tanking too much damage.

"Would probably do well to have at least one person on the wizard's ass at all times, make sure we can pull him out of trouble if it comes." Rathello mused aloud to the group as they moved. "Maybe someone to pull up the rear as well. But there's enough of us that this should go relatively well. I forget- does the wizard NPC take part in fights too?"
I'll get something out tonight or tomorrow
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