VitaVitaAR

Another Life in a Fantasy World (Invite Only)

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Witch's Household

---

The expression of mute confusion on Ilsa's face said it all. Here, in the midst of her home, some sort of new location had appeared from no-where, filled with some strange objects she didn't recognize but also plenty she did. It was a kitchen. That had appeared just like that.

The green-haired witch couldn't help but silently stare as things began to get underway. She'd expect that apparently the 'student' could cook, and the fox-folk girl was dressed as a maid so it perhaps wasn't particularly shocking she showed this capability as well.

No, no, all of that paled in comparison to what she was witnessing before her eyes.

As the fairy pair excitedly began to flit around the new space, examining absolutely everything as closely as possible, all that Ilsa could do was stare wordlessly.

It was some time before she managed to speak.

"---Let me get this straight," Ilsa began, facing Nick as a frown creeped across her features, "You're claiming to be a student, and yet you just summoned a closed space without any particular fanfare, at-will. Putting aside... whatever this thing is---"

She gestured towards a device she didn't recognize, with a pale blue base and what looked like a cup of some kind attached to it with a lid. The fairies had swiftly discovered it, the pink-haired fairy repeatedly twisting the knob on the bottom and pressing various buttons to make what looked like a blade on the interior of the cup whirr rapidly as the blue-haired fairy watched in awe.

"---Do you really expect me to believe such a claim? My mentor can construct a closed space, but I hardly believe the average student is pulling this off that easily."

Relki had been about to follow Ilsa, but she paused for a moment at Jor's questioning.

"Mmm..." She tapped her finger against her chin for a few moments, silently, before giving the shapeshifter girl a shrug.

"I don't know!"

Her cheerful answer probably wasn't the one that had been desired.

"As a familiar, this is just how I am. Ever since I was 'born'---"

The way she said born was somewhat unusual, almost as if it was referring to something other then a natural birth despite using the same word, but regardless---

"---I've been able to do it whenever I wanted. I can't imagine it's the same for someone who uses shapeshifting magic... is it? Hmmm..."

The raven familiar considered that possibility for a few moments again, then shrugged again.

"I wouldn't know, I guess! But I don't think I could teach you to fly, ether... so it's probably the same kind of problem!"

@Raineh Daze@FujiwaraPhoenix@Pyromania99

Blades of Iron Roses: An Anime-Inspired Knight RP

A grinning man bore down on her, his midnight-black blade raised over his head.

She was faster.

Fanilly's blade found its place buried in the unseelie fae's through, a flash traveling up its edge only faintly as she took the hunter's life, his still-grinning corpse toppling backwards and falling limply to the ground.

Taking stock of the Midnight Hunt's forces was virtually impossible. They were endlessly replenishing, in one way or another, with new abominable hunters taking place of the old. She hadn't needed to dispatch orders to her knights on which of the elites to take on, and they were the enemies who mattered most.

With the exception of Rozenalt himself.

To think, only recently she hadn't even been certain the Bloody Lord was a real figure.

---This was no time to be focusing on that. There were far too many opponents, and they had to ensure that Dame Tyaethe's fight with Rozenalt went uninterrupted.

"Lord Arken!" she called to the mage, as loudly as she should across the chaotic clearing, "Can you disrupt the Knights of the Hunt?"

The wordless, gaunt knights were seemingly the most organized of the hunters, already attempting to rally and send a portion of their number after the vampire paladin.

"As if you needed to ask. Astral---"

A flash of light tore its way across the battle---

"---Lance!"

A Knight of the Hunt was torn in two, its skeletal steed breaking apart, their formation disrupted. That would do nicely to drag the hunters' attention away from the duel their leader had become embroiled in!

The a pair of the twisted imp-like fae lunged towards her before she could consider her next move clearly, one raising an axe and the other slashing wildly with a knife.

Stepping back, Fanilly swiftly brought her blade down and cut the first of the creatures in half from its shoulder to its waist, adjusting her stance as she twisted her body and brought her sword back up and through the other's head and right arm.

There were countless enemies, but they'd keep fighting until the end.

They had to win back the Duke's Wits, and come back alive!

Perhaps if she could assist one of her knights directly---

The skies weren't empty, either!

Creatures with twisted faces like old crones and the bodies of vultures but far larger had ascended from the trees, making their way swiftly towards Lady Gertrude and Sir Rolan with a cacophony of screeches!

@Octo@Eisenhorn

---

Even the Midnight Hunt was perhaps unprepared for the bloodlust directed at the leader of the vile host. Their ranks were parted, split by the vampire paladin's bloodthirsty charge. No matter how fearsome they were, such immediate opposition was not the most common thing for the Hunt to encounter.

And so, she was able to read her foe.

The Crimson Lord. The Blood-drawing Noble. The man who was practically synonymous with torture, murder, and wickedness. Lord Rozenalt had lived on as a popular antagonist in fiction for a reason, and it was the very same reason that he stood as one of the Midnight Hunt's leaders.

The great beast's jaws opened, as the burning flames inside of Rozenalt's empty sockets fixed upon Tyaethe.

Even with a face incapable of clear expressions, the fact he recognized his approaching foe was obvious.

The creature he rode let out an uneathly, human-like shriek as it lurched towards Dame Tyaethe, but it was clear the Bloody Lord had already judged what would happen. As one of the beast's limbs was hewn from beneath it, spraying black ichor onto the grass, Rozenalt had already leaped from his steed, armor rattling as he landed on the ground.

At his full height, he must have been at least seven feet tall.

"..."

He reached to the sword on his hip and slowly drew it. As he did, crimson poured from within the sheath, splattering on the ground, countless tiny, spectral, grasping limbs reaching out as they coated the blade.

It was said that Rozenalt's blade was wreathed in spirits, souls he had bound to it or wicked specters he had brought under his control. They resembled skinless, eyeless, translucent corpses, meshed together in a ghastly mass that surrounded the Bloody Lord's blade.

"Vampire."

The voice rumbled up from within the armor.

"You will not survive this night. Not again. Your debt shall be paid in the blood of every fool here."

@Raineh Daze

---

The falconer in front of Fionn rose to meet his challenge… literally. Already standing the height of a man, when it stood properly – or as much as it was able to – then it towered over even the tallest human. Lanky, and malformed in a clearly avian manner, it was hard to tell where the light armour ended and its own natural scaling began. Its masked head regarded Fionn with a curious gaze before it gave a loose shrug, cloak of feathers rippling over the stubs of wings.

Yet, still, its arms and whatever weapons it held were hidden beneath the feathery shroud, and the Falconer made no move to engage in melee.

It didn't need to: the spectral bird had launched off its shoulder and already moved for a raking dive at the knight's face, not caring for normal concerns like needing time to build up speed.

@The Otter

---

The trapper stood unmoving at Renar's taunt. If it had heard him, there wasn't a response from its charred frame. It didn't show any more life even as he shot out with the dart, merely turning its head to look at the rope now wrapped around its arm.

Where it was snared, the slowly-smouldering embers of its cloak and the burnt ashes on its armour suddenly roared back into life, flames burning an unearthly blue as they ate through the rope in scant seconds until a quick flex snapped it entirely and the flames died back to nothing.

Now, though, it made its moved, own rope flicking out and catching on… nothing? No, not nothing; it lassoed some latch and now there was a weighty branch rising to try and smash Renar's knee.

Surely that wasn't there before? It must have been so obvious, if it was.

@Psyker Landshark

---

Fleuri's cutting down of the man-faced hounds didn't elicit the reaction he might have expected: first, the houndmaster ahead of him let out a bark of laughter, proving it must indeed have a face beneath its blank armour. And second, it could still let out a shrill whistle through said armour.

Immediately, there were two hounds lunging at him again from opposite sides, peeling out of the rest of the Midnight Hunt and leaping over the bodies of their fallen comrades. Not aiming to bite, no, but to pin with their bulky weight and allow their master to come in.

And between one breath and the next, the houndmaster had pulled out a hefty two-handed axe from somewhere, lunging forwards with a swing. It didn't have finesse, or some clever technique – but it was a bulky figure, shockingly fast if not for their prior training and, crucially, it still had the support of its hounds.

@Crimson Paladin

---

It was strange.

For all the abominable things that were part of the Midnight Hunt, the pale lady seemed unusual. While her horse was far too thin, her appearance did not seem abnormal. Slight, perhaps, almost fragile, and bleached white, but otherwise similar to a human being.

One could only assume that her eyes had fell upon Sir Gerard, though they were hidden by her veil. Slowly, gently she cocked her head to one side.

And then she stood, rising atop the horse until both her bare feet were against the creature's back, seeming to cause it little duress despite its starved appearance.

She reached towards the milky, pale skin of her chest, and pulled.

From within her emerged a faintly-glowing, slender shape. It was difficult to explain what it could be described as, for it had to hilt but appeared to be edged, with both ends sharped to points, some form of weapon no human would ever wield.

One of the hunched, cloaked figures lurched between them, rushing towards Sir Gerard.

The Pale Lady flicked her wrist, and the hunched figure came to a halt.

Slowly, it fell in two halves, severed down the middle with strands of red only briefly linking its body together before being entirely split.

Gently, silently, the Pale Lady stepped off of her steed, and raised the spine-like weapon to point its tip towards the knight before her.

@HereComesTheSnow

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

...

Really.

I cannot say this is a particular boost to my confidence. While I was capable of tracking them here, I've never navigated these forests without that goal in mind. Thus, I cannot be expected to handle that portion of our navigation to our goal in an unfamiliar land.

Given that fact, why is it that we are lost? Exactly what is the excuse for this?

It's the Edren men's fault. I'm certain of it. This dense, humid forest is so far out of their experience that they have managed to get themselves turned around.

Of course, I am well-supplied with food. A single one of my riceballs a day is sufficient to keep me going without worry of fatigue. With that being said, waste of supplies due to being lost out in the wilderness is hardly a wonderful start to the task we have been assigned.

---With that being said...

The slavering, howling beasts. I am no hunter, but I understand the principles of living things all the same. And while the current task is elsewhere, Cid is directly related to my overarching goal.

I reach into the pouch a my hip, my eyes scanning over the beastly creatures. Their distorted forms evoke a painful image, twisted beasts who are no monsters having been warped into them.

I take a deep breath.

The heart is a difficult target on the larger of them. My physical power isn't sufficient to punch through the muscle and bone in the way, particularly for the bears, with enough speed to avoid counterattack. The wolves and other creatures are somewhat easier, but still perhaps not the ideal target.

The throat. The eyes. Soft, undefended locations even on these distorted beasts. Those are my goals.

The sharp, black form of a kunai emerges from my pouch, and with it---

"I would request that you shield your eyes, for a moment."

I raise the kunai and press its tip to the string.

"Burn."

Fire flows from my veins, deep within me. The Fire Materia is useful for direct offense, but it also reduces the amount of equipment that I must carry.

The heat radiates through the steel kunai, setting it alight and catching the bomb aflame.

I raise it up over my head and take aim. Away from Sagramore-san, as of course the Edren man has chosen to rush in, in order to give him time to react.

As it leaves my hand, I shield my eyes as well, tucking my ears against my head.

Crack---

A flash of light. A burst of sound.

For even a moment, these will serve as needles directly thrust into the senses of the beasts before us.

My pack hits the ground. I need to shed the weight to move faster. In the same moment, my blade swiftly leaves its sheath on the back of my hips.

I'll target the most dangerous of the beasts nearest to the initial blast. While they're stunned, I'll eliminate them. Cut them out like the sad disease that they are.

I throw myself forward, pressing my palm to the kashira and sending a surge of fire up the blade's edge as I swiftly approach the nearest of the blighted bears. They are without a doubt the greatest threat out of the various beasts, and right now they are immobilized, if only briefly.

That is all the time that I require.

It is rearing back, throat out of reach, roaring as its eyes and ears are for the moment disabled and in pain.

I push off the ground, arm rising in an arc.

There is a hiss as fur and flesh and blight meets burning steel, the brief resistance that swiftly gives way, and an arc of spraying, afflicted blood.

I hit the ground and keep moving. The more swiftly I move, the more difficult of a target I am, so I simply won't stop if I can help it.

A blighted wolf is in my way, snapping jaws closing shut just ahead of me. I answer it just as swiftly, thrusting the tip of my sword through its neck and then turning, dragging crimson and fire with me as I look for the next of the bears. They'll recover soon, but---

I can delay that a moment longer.

I take aim as my free hand reaches into my pouch again, drawing another kunai. Its eyes are starting to open, so I simply won't allow that.

A swift throw, carefully aimed and accounting for positioning.

One of those barely-opened eyes is pierced, the beast letting out a bellow as it's sent reeling.

I use its body as a platform, pushing of the ground, onto its side, and thrusting the blazing edge of my sword into its neck.

As it falls, I'm already leaving it.

Beasts are beasts, of course, but they are like humans in many respects.

Even blighted, they will still die from a cut throat.

Blades of Iron Roses: An Anime-Inspired Knight RP

I'd need to see more about your concept, but I'm willing to hear you out. The RP's still open but you'd have to wait until the current arc concluded.

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

"Only some bergamot tea. The rest is my own supplies."

Of course, Izayoi-dono is swift to clear up the situation herself, but I was told that should handily dispel any further suspicion. My purpose here is to operate as assistance, and it being doubted would hinder me in that duty.

---If my duty is to listen to the orders of one of the Edren men, then so be it. Hopefully he is the more competent of the two and is capable of using my skills correctly. If not, then I shall likely had to improvise further while also doing my best to comply with his orders.

I would rather not be forced into such a situation, so unfortunately my faith must be placed into an Edren man.

"Very well. Worry not, Izayoi-dono. I am fed as much as I require."

I should address her concerns, however. I am fed plenty in order to operate in my duty, and I have most certainly grown. Haven't I? I definitely have.

So there is no need to be worried about that.

Besides, my supplies are well-stocked with food that can be eaten swiftly and provides high nutritional value. There is no need to be worried, even if I lack---

Nevermind. I do not need to worry about that. Such things are hardly necessary.

For the moment, it is best for me to simply listen quietly and take stock of the situation. Izayoi-dono's explanation was able to introduce me to the scenario they now faced, but at the same time it's best for me to understand their potential approach. Were it my decision, I would most certainly volunteer to simply assassinate the offending Grovemaster, but as I understand it that does not appear to be an option.

And indeed, I suppose in most situations where such a figure must be removed, it is usually for the best to ensure their successors and any who were aligned with them would not later become a problem. Usually, when I was dispatched to assassinate one who could be considered nobility, it was at the behest of their successors or 'allies' who saw them as a corrupt or destabilizing influence.

The same could not be said of this scenario, unfortunately.

The Elder Scrolls IV: Cyrodiil

I lower the sword.

The long gash it rent across the necromancer woman's front was more then enough to end this.

It's finished.

---Oh, she wants it back now.

"A-ah, right...!"

I reach out, offering the glinting blade back to Lanessa. She's right, it's about time we went back. It's hard to believe I just managed to take down a Necromancer and her undead by myself, but the proof is lying right there on the floor, and dripping off the edge of the loaned sword.

---Somehow, I have a hard time being as worried about potential bandits on the road after that.

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

I haven't left my homeland since the war with Edren.

But that changes little now. That fact is unimportant in the face of my duty.

Even if these surroundings are wholly unfamiliar to me, even if I have never before set foot in the lands of Drana Asnaeu, Rijin-sama's orders must be followed.

Even if it were a far more frivolous matter, the consideration I paid towards his orders would be the same.

Disloyalty will never enter my mind. Duty comes before all else. That is the simple fact that guides my whole existence.

And now, my mission can truly begin in earnest. It had taken some time to track the Kirins to their current location. Their trail was not exactly a clean one, but at the same time tracking targets was hardly something I lacked experience with. Even on a smaller scale, determining the best point to eliminate a guard in his patrol route was a matter of tracking as well. And some targets could flee considerable distances before finally being cut down.

Even if my goal was not the death of my targets in this circumstance, the principle of tracking them to their location remains the same.

---This feeling. A somewhat quicker beating of my heart, deep within my chest. Is it impatience to finally approach? Anticipation at finally beginning my mission in earnest? Anxiety at finally encountering the Kirins I have been pursuing for my objective?

No.

Or rather, it doesn't matter.

There is no need to remain hidden. There was hardly one in the first place, but it was more convenient for me to avoid revealing myself until it was an appropriate time to make my approach and greet the Kirins.

With their number assembled, there is no better time.

As I approach, I take stock of their number. As promised, among them are Ranbu-dono and Ciradyl-dono, but also---

Geh.

Edren men. Two Edren men.

This matter effects them as well, to be sure, and it is not as if they have no right to attempt to end the threat posed by the fading of the crystals, but---

Geh.

I will work alongside them, for that is my duty. But no more than that.

But first, I have orders. Reaching into the pouch on my hip, I produce the scroll before giving the Kirins a low bow.

"Asakura Chisato, of the Asakura clan."

I bring forth the scroll in my hands, offering it towards Ciradyl-dono.

"I am here on behalf of Rijin Hien-sama, to deliver this message to Ciradyl-dono and join in your cause."

Any further words are unnecessary. Ciradyl-dono will understand once she has read the scroll, and the others will know I am here as an ally.

---Mostly unnecessary. Most of my equipment does not require special care in these conditions, beyond its usual upkeep.

Most of it, at least.

"I apologize, but if I may borrow some storage, it would be well-appreciated."

Keeping my rations and the more explosive portions of my arsenal dry has been somewhat painful. Besides, if they do not offer assistance I will simply have to find storage myself.

It would be within their best interest for them to do so.

Another Life in a Fantasy World (Invite Only)

---

Ruined Inn

---

Is Lena-san really complaining about the fact that I didn't directly praise her? We're in this situation, and that's the first thing that came to her mind?

"... Yes, yes," I find myself responding, flatly, "You did so well. Why don't you invade my personal space again? That would be a great reward, I'd be just thrilled."

---Not that what she did isn't impressive, but I can't say earnestly praising her is the first thing on my mind after she practically molested me just a little while ago. Not to mention the fact that, even if it was dried out and almost looked like a movie prop more than a real body, I did just witness a corpse getting smashed by a blunt instrument.

Excuse me for being a little distracted.

"Anyway, we should try and gather everything we can and leave as quickly as possible," I say as I approach one of the racks of dried, salted meat, "Enough to sustain us for a bit but not too heavy for us to keep moving. If this is a fantasy world, it's unlikely that everywhere is like this, but we still don't know how far we'll have to go to get somewhere more normal."

We'll need some bags, or something similar. Maybe Lena-san can make some, if she was able to make that crude mace so easily?

"Once we're outside, we need to keep moving until we find the exit. As for how we'll travel... Javal-san, you'll be in front. Lena-san, you'll bring up the rear. I'll be in the middle."

Javal-san has a weapon and a suit of armor. Lena-san is a doll, made of... porcelain? I can't be totally sure, but it's definitely not as vulnerable as flesh and bone is.

Out of the three of us, I'm clearly the most vulnerable, so there's no way I'm taking a more exposed position.

@FujiwaraPhoenix@Crimson Paladin@Rune_Alchemist

---

Witch's House

---

The question of shapeshifting was met with a confused stare.

"No?" Ilsa replied, "... Well, if you wander down the Spiraling Path, who knows what will happen, but it's not exactly an easy school of magic to master."

The petite substitute witch approached the kitchen as she spoke.

"Relki is a familiar, so of course she can change her form. I'm guessing you weren't a student of magic, if you don't know that," she continued, as the raven familiar continued to pet Hikari's soft, fluffy hair and ears happily, "The maid is one of those eastern fox-folk, and that woman..."

She paused for a moment.

"I suppose she just learned how. Did you really not know anything about your companions? Did you go wandering around with complete strangers? No wonder you nearly died."

She sighed heavily.

"Don't worry too much about dear little Ilsa's attitude," commented Relki as she continued to stroke Hikari's hair, "She just turned thirteen last month, so she's at that age, you know?"

The substitute witch shot the raven woman a glare.

"And what is that supposed to mean, exactly?" she asked, pointedly. Relki simply smirked playfully, before completely putting the question aside and addressing Hikari.

"I suppose a maid isn't so suited for the rustic atmosphere, that's true," the raven woman commented. Ilsa didn't seem as if she wanted to bother waiting for a response.

"I'm not exactly going to complain if you want to cook your own food for some reason, but don't make a mess," she added as she entered the kitchen.

It was very neat, and tidy. The stone floor was kept clean, there was a basin with a drain for water, and various herbs hung near a window. There was a large table and a variety of different utensils for food preparation, such a spoons an a rolling pin, a cutting board, knives, and tongs. The various cabinets likely stored more tools and ingredients, and there was a sack of flour at the far end of the room.

A pair of fairies, one with pale blue hair and the other with pink hair, were seated on the edge of the basin.

"... What are you doing in here?" Ilsa questioned, her tone growing more irritated then it had already been.

"We wanted to watch!" declared the pink-haired fairy, brightly, the blue-haired fairy seeming to shift shyly rather then speak herself.

"You mean you were hoping to steal a snack."

To this, neither fairy replied.

@Pyromania99@FujiwaraPhoenix@Raineh Daze

Blades of Iron Roses: An Anime-Inspired Knight RP

While she lacked a mouth, the Feinyar's expression seemed to brighten when Sir Fionn spoke to her, and at the very least she decided to give him a little more room, leaning back and clapping her ashen, wood-like clawed hands together.

Her only response, however, was to somewhat vividly gesture. Indeed, while she did likely have a name, it was difficult for her to convey it. She had also nodded enthusiastically at Dame Tyaethe's request, implying that she did indeed know nithyr and that her relationship with them was seen as a positive one in her eyes.

Fanilly inhaled deeply.

Some fae could be harmed by any weapon. But many could only be damaged by unworked iron, or magic. That meant that there was one more preparation they had to make before following the feinyar to their destination.

"Lady Gertrude? Lord Arken?"

As she spoke, the knight-captain drew her sword from its sheath.

"To fight the Midnight Hunt, our weapons will need to be enchanted," she said. It didn't need to be anything particularly powerful or impressive. Rather, it simply needed to be a basic enhancement to bequeath mundane weaponry with magical damage. One that would last long enough to be sufficient for the battle. Given how many weapons needed to be enchanted, it didn't make sense to try and do anything more complicated.

The only exceptions were the feather-blade that Sir Fionn had been donated, and Dame Tyaethe's sword. It was fairly obvious those didn't require any additional attention.

After that had been done---

It would be time.

---

It was hard to tell how much time had passed, following the feinyar.

But the air itself had changed. There was a chill in the air that hadn't been present just moments ago. A creeping coldness that crawled up her limbs, as if her skin had been bare to a chill breeze. It felt as if eyes were scrutinizing her from every direction, looking through her and down to her very core through armor and cloth and flesh.

Fanilly's heart was pounding. Tonight, they would be facing a threat that had never been conquered. Even those who survived the Midnight Hunt had never ended it.

---But that was what they had to do. For the sake of restoring the Duke's sanity, this was their mission.

She couldn't afford to have any hesitation. She couldn't afford even a moment of doubt.

She had to lead the Iron Rose Knights to victory, no matter what.

Fanilly sucked in another deep breath.

Their guide had come to a halt. They were in a clearing in the forest, a large hill on the opposite end that continued into the treeline. Here, the moonlight was sufficient to see somewhat more clearly. That would at least be helpful in fighting the Hunt.

The chill here was greater. The Feeling of being watched was stronger.

Without a doubt, this was their destination. While they weren't visible, the very sensation in the air told Fanilly that the Midnight Hunt was well aware of their presence.

Fanilly's fingers wrapped around the hilt of her blade. The enchantment had given it a warmth, a faint heat almost akin to the sensation of lightly holding a living thing in her hand.

The sword sang as she drew it.

The Knight-Captain glanced back towards her knights.

This was the final moment. She could feel it in the air. Against her skin.

They were at the very brink.

And then her vision was filled by it.

A wide, unearthly, toothless grin on a pale mask, at the end of along neck attached to a vaguely human body, squatting on all fours. The smiling face twitched, a lengthy limb reaching slowly towards her.

For the briefest moment, it felt as if her heart had stopped.

For the briefest moment, she froze, as the smiling thing reached towards her.

---Her grip tightened.

She slide one foot back, raising her blade and twisting her body in the same moment. The magically-enhanced edge of her blade found its purchase, plunging through the unseelie creature's neck and severing it from its body.

With a spurt of unnaturally bright, red blood, the creature toppled sideways, its mask rapidly transitioning between different emotions. Shock, horror, sadness, joy, anger, each one played upon its face over and over again even as its form began to droop and distort, its unmoving body laying otherwise motionless on the grass.

The Hunt had begun.

Now, the treeline was filled with movement. Shapes emerging from the darkness. Distorted, hound-like creatures, hairless and pale with human-like faces. Tall knights in bronze-colored armor with unnatural proportions astride skeletal deer, their helmets adorned with uncanny faces and lengthy spears gripped in their hands. Ghoulish, gangly apparitions that appeared to fade in and out of existence as they slipped through the shapes of their fellows. Hunched, cloaked figures gripping wickedly-curved daggers, unnatural bodies concealed beneath leather and fur. Dark red and grey imp-like figures with insectile wings, holding small bows or hunting knives and wearing nothing to hide their twisted bodies. Crawling, pallid, gaunt human-like figures. Grey-skinned men with wide grins and dark eyes, wielding swords and axes.

A pure white figure in a white dress, cloth hanging over her face and obscuring her features as she rode upon a white horse that appeared far too thin.

A figure with a bird-like white mask cloaked with feathers, long limbs curled against their body and the translucent form of a ghostly falcon perched upon their shoulder.

A faceless, leather-armored man with two manfaced dogs on chains, snarling and biting as their burning eyes fell upon the knights.

A figure in charred armor, cloak smoldering with embers, a length of rope in one hand and a beartrap gripped in the other.

But one figure stood above all, at the peak of the hill---

The thick, crimson plate armor adorned his frame spoke of his identity immediately.

The great, skeletal creature he road, some atrocious blend of horse and deer and lizard, belonged only to him. The cloak he wore more resembled branches, or veins, hanging from his back as opposed to any sort of fabric.

His face was a skull, a tall three-pointed gold crown perched atop it, his eyes two burning coals in their sockets.

Rozenalt.

He raised his blade, pointing its tip skywards.

Fanilly drew a deep breath---

Now was no time for fear, for hesitation, for anything less then decisiveness.

It was time that they would put an end to a grim legend.

"Iron Rose Knights!" she cried, "Tonight, the hunters shall become the hunted. We will put an end to Lord Rozenalt's Midnight Hunt!"

It had begun.

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Asakura Chisato

"Above all else, I will fulfill my duty. No matter what blood I must spill."

GENERAL INFORMATION

Name: Asakura Chisato

Age: 18

Gender: Female

Race: Viera

Origin: Osprey

COMBAT INFORMATION

Class: Rogue

Weapon: Chisato is equipped with a variety of weaponry. Her primary option for offense is a straight-bladed katana with a somewhat shorter than average length, though she also keeps a wakizashi sheathed on her back, just above her tail. Additionally, she carries a number of kunai concealed inside of her clothing, as well as caltrops, smoke bombs, and a few other small explosives powerful enough to heavily injure or kill but only at close range. Finally, Chisato also utilizes a heavy, high-power hand cannon nearly as large as most of her body. Decorated with red and yellow paint, the hand cannon is entirely unuseable for her unless she properly prepares and sets up. Even then, it is likely to knock her off her feet. Its high power can even punch through thick armor, but it has a long reload time making it unsuitable for most combat.

Inventory:

• Her katana, wakizashi, kunai, caltrops, smoke bombs, and small explosives.
• Her hand cannon, though its heavy weight and impracticality outside of ambushes means she does not carry it on her person most of the time.
• Potions
• Rations, consisting largely of riceballs and dried fish.
• Travelling Kit
• Spare outfits, suitable for disguise

Materia:

• Fire, not only used for direct offensive purposes but also igniting her smokebombs and explosives after throwing them.
• Exit, used primarily to disengage from combat and swiftly conceal herself before re-engaging her opponent(s).

Limit Breaks: Sensen Sange: A technique in which Chisato swiftly dashes to approach her opponent and deliver a slash roughly to their mid-torso with her katana. A trail of drifting, luminescent cherry petals is left behind by her advance, culminating in a swirling storm around the target. Each petal glows brighter before erupting into a burst of pink flames, bathing the already-injured enemy in destruction.

PERSONAL INFORMATION

Appearance Details: A small, lightly-built girl, extraordinarily short for a Viera of roughly 139 cm in height. Whether this is due to the conditions of her early life or some quirk of her bloodline is difficult to discern. She can be easily mistaken for a child, something utilized for the purposes of completing her duty in some situations.

Personality: Chisato is, at first glance, quiet and difficult to approach. Her expression rarely changes, and her voice possesses very little inflection of any sort. She is usually very polite to anyone who she is required to work with, and rarely appears to complain.

---At first glance.

Despite this reserved and polite demeanor, it quickly becomes clear that Chisato is prone to making dry, sarcastic comments, often about anything that happens to irritate her. This is most often directed at other people, though never at anyone whose orders she has accepted. Her intense loyalty does not allow her to treat them in the same way. That being said, those she works with are not so lucky. If she judges them unsuitable for whatever reason, she will not hesitate to point it out. This is partially motivated by her dedication to her duties, as if she does not believe someone is up to the same level of competency that she is it may impact her mission. That being said, it is hardly the only reason.

Having killed since she was a child in order to complete her duties, Chisato has little qualms when it comes to violence. She will take quick and merciful paths to ending an opponent's life, but she possesses zero hesitation when the matter of death is involved. This includes herself. A strong sense of loyalty and duty over her own life has been instilled within her, and while she will not carelessly throw her life away she will not hesitate if it is the best possible course to completing her mission. Her sense of self-worth is very low, and despite her derisive sarcasm towards allies she is likely to place them before her.

In her mind, her existence only affects the outcomes of her mission. She expects this attitude from others, but at the same time subconsciously treats them as more important then herself. This mindset was solidified during the incident four years ago.

Despite her small size, Chisato is frequently seen eating, especially sweets. She is particularly fond of a certain fish-shaped, filled pastry.

Biography: Chisato never knew her parents.

It's possible this was because they died from some illness. Or perhaps because she was abandoned. She has no clear memory of their faces. Given she was born within the depths of a pleasure district riddled with crime and prostitution, a myriad of potential origins could explain her situation.

Regardless, she only survived her first few years due to some passing kindness by others in similar situations to her, and a higher-class courtesan who happened to have been passing by at the time.

But none of it lasted.

Those living in this darkest and least gentle part of the pleasure district could not afford to take care of her. It was not out of unkindness, simply their situation permitted for little else.

As Chisato came to understand this, she did not resent them.

But it hardly alleviated her struggle. On the streets she was forced to do whatever she could in order to get by. Had things continued like this, it was likely her best possible life would have been to become a courtesan if she had been lucky. And that was only a single path amongst many that were far darker.

---And then something unexpected happened.

A woman who looked unlike even the high-class courtesans of the district approached her, one day. She was finely dressed, but not in the flashy and alluring manner of such women.

She offered to take her from this place, to give her a different existence.

Thin, spending every day hungry---

It was no wonder that Chisato took the chance with all of her heart.

She learned the woman's name was Asakura Hisami, and that she was a disciple of a man named Asakura Ryoji, whom she would soon meet.

This is when she became Asakura Chisato, and after her health and weight were at acceptable levels, her training began. It was intensive, every day marked by something that honed her existence further and further. Her life was to be sharpened into something that could take the lives of others.

Her training felt almost like it came naturally. Perhaps it was largely because she was glad to have escaped the unkind world of the pleasure district's underbelly, that she would embrace anything that dragged her further away from it.

An existence as a blade was fine with her.

There were others, girls who were trained in a similar manner to herself. Both in subterfuge and deception, and in the swiftest ways to take a life.

The first time she killed anyone was when she was only ten years old. It had left a strange feeling inside of her, but he had been a cruel man who dragged others down to step on top of them, a criminal who had used his bloodline to shield himself. She had nearly botched it, but before he could draw his own blade she had buried hers in his throat.

After that, she killed many more. Even considering her young age, she began to coat her hands in blood. But it was for the good of Osprey. The good of her fellow ninja. The good of the people.

That was her existence. A blade that severed the lives of Osprey's enemies both within and without.

This was true of the conflict with Edren, as well. She was sent further then she had ever been, to covertly slay a number of important enemies, to be a manslaying ghost.

She retreated, eventually, and not long after that the conflict was brought to an end.

---It was a mission after, for the purpose of trying to halt Valheim's ambitions.

It was that day that nearly every other girl who she had trained alongside was killed or cripplingly injured, at the hands of a traitorous samurai.

Only Chisato survived mostly unscathed.

In the aftermath, she couldn't understand it. Why? Why was she the one who lived? Why would a man of Osprey betray his people after swearing himself to his country?

Why?

Why did everyone else have to die?

Obviously, she had not carried out her duty sufficiently. Maybe, if she had done something, maybe if she had sacrificed herself, then she would have been the only one.

Maybe.

Maybe.

Maybe.

Traits:

• Utilizes her youthful looks for the purposes of deception.
• Prefers extremely efficient and direct methods of killing opponents.
• While she usually eats very simple meals, loves sweets.
• Is inherently suspicious of men from Edren, and likely to be harder on them by default.
• Currently in the employ of Lord Hien.
• While she is trained to employ stealth, her capacity as a direct fighter is not to be ignored. She easily outperforms the average soldier in melee combat.
• Despite having long since left the pleasure district, some part of her still remembers the beautiful outfits of the high-class courtesans she sometimes witnessed as if they were some sort of fantasy.

Relationships:

• Lord Rijin Hien: She is currently employed by him, and greatly respects him. He is beneath only her clan head in terms of her loyalty.
• Asakura Ryoji: An old sollan man, head of the Asakura branch of her clan, is the peak of her loyalty. He is shrewd and intelligent, and does not hesitate to make sacrifices if he believes it will be the best outcome.
• Asakura Hisami: A beautiful, seemingly-sollan woman who does not appear to have aged since recruiting Chisato. She was one of Chisato's trainers, and the closest thing to a mother in her life.
• Asakura Kunoichi: Many of the Asakura Kunoichi of Chisato's generation are dead, the few remaining no longer able to fight aside from Chisato. Chisato still considers them to be her sisters.
• Lord Shigemoto Dairoku: A traitorous samurai of terrifying skill and little mercy. His reasons for betraying Osprey in favor of Valheim are unknown. It is likely that Chisato would be unable to maintain her composure in his presence.