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2 yrs ago
Current I think watching fight scenes can help in general terms with writing combat, since it can give you an idea of flow and choreography.
2 yrs ago
At least if you're writing something you know, with knights.
2 yrs ago
I mean, depends on what you're writing, and the tone and theme of what you're writing. Trained armored knights were legitimately monstrous on the battlefield, so looking up how they fought helps.
2 yrs ago
As much as there's a lot of reasons twitter sucks, I genuinely don't want to see it die for the sake of all the artists who now rely on it. Hoping the shithead stops trying to directly administrate.
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2 yrs ago
roleplayerguild.com/posts/5… If anyone's up for fighting some kaiju, why not try out my new RP, Godzilla: YATAGARUSU?

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The undead, while numerous, were no different then those they had fought before. Perhaps they were better-equipped then the ones that had faced on entry into the mausoleum, but they were still mindless undead.

Bone shattered, dessicated flesh burning, old armor warping and bending under Dawn's Break.

Fanilly, too, had choosen to push forward. If Dame Cecilia could keep the lightning witch occupied, then it only made sense to press through the undead and take the fight directly to the necromancer as soon as possible. The faster that they could overwhelm him and rescue his hostage, the better.

Her blade flashed, targeting the gap between helmet and neck on one of the more well-armored undead, sending its head hurtling through the air with a dusty shower. The next, raising an axe, had the tip of the Knight-Captain's sword plunge through its chest and tear its way upward, its damaged body collapsing uselessly to the stone floor.

An arm taken, followed by the head. The legs cut out from a tall undead. Steadily, the numbers were thinning. The walking corpses were being returned to their rest.

"Tch."

Fierense took a step back, her lowered hand immediately manifesting a barrier of twisting white-blue light to intercept the projectiles before they could strike. Though it was constructed with haste, the mundane nature of the projectiles thrown her way made it easier to deflect them, the knife and the arrows clattering to the side before the barrier crumbled on its own.

"Yeah, you're right about that," she replied with a sigh, "Let's do this. That bow of yours isn't just for show."

Lightning crackled between her fingertips. She didn't seem to even be paying attention to the knights currently cutting through the undead.

"There's something inside. A divine spirit, maybe? A low-ranking one if that's true," she continued, shrugging, "Doesn't matter to me."

The crackling lightning in her hand swelled, blazing brighter.

"Show me what you've got."

The barrier around the necromancer was the result of a ritual, insofar as Shael would be able to discern, a chalk inscription on the floor beneath it playing a role in its generation. Of course, with the chalk inside the barrier this would make difficult to take advantage of that fact. It was also a strong one, it'd take considerable impact to break it.

But it didn't seem as if the necromancer's plans ended there.

"You know, the higher quality a corpse was in life, the more powerful and capable it will be when risen as an undead," he began, almost conversationally as his catalyst began to grow brighter, "Do you know who was interred on this floor?"

Fanilly's blade cut its way into the shoulder of the nearest of the undead. What did he mean? She didn't quite understand how such a thing worked, but did it mean that someone who was legendary in life would leave behind a better body for a necromancer to use?"

Then-

The gleaming figure that emerged from the shadows took her almost entirely by surprise. His armor shone as if it had been maintained in peak condition. His face, his entire body was fully concealed within, the lengthy, wide blade in his hand complimented by a shield bearing the Cazt star, the purple cape flowing behind his back.

The blade descended, slamming into Fanilly's sword, sending a shock up her arms as it sent her reeling back.

This was...!

"Erich Cazt," the necromancer continued, "The Hero of Aimlenn. The Demonbreaker. Certainly, even a fine hero such as this will degrade in death, but can you stand against the corpse of a man who drove a demon from these lands?"

The Demonbreaker raised his shield. Even though what was inside the armor was surely a corpse little more than bone, he still shone like a resplendent jewel.

And now he was the one they would have to go through to reach their foe.

@Rune_Alchemist@HereComesTheSnow@Raineh Daze




The journey to Candaeln had been done mostly in silence, the Princesses remaining close, Maletha still clutching her stuffed dragon toy. Neither of them had ever experienced teleportation magic before, but little was said of their feelings on the matter. They were still quite shaken by this point.

As they entered Candaeln, it was difficult to ignore the First Princess's response. Even if she was still quite uneasy, and didn't want to stray from her younger sister, the fact still remained that she was unable to hide her interest in any piece of history in sight. From the portraits to the cases containing legendary weapons, Princess Elisandre's eyes drifted over all of them.

Princess Maletha, however...

"... Th-thank you, Sir Ball Knight..." she half-murmured in Sir Fionn's direction. After a few moments, she glanced towards Tyaethe.

"... Can I meet Elei...?"

@Krayzikk@The Otter@Psyker Landshark@Raineh Daze
Velvetica's tent was the largest in the camp, the same crimson trimmed with red that adorned the Lion's Banner. It was from here that she planned strategy, consulted with her advisors, and conducted official business.

It was also quite comfortable, but that was secondary.

Within, a large mat had been placed over the short, spikey grass, and atop it sat a table. Beyond that was where Velvetica slept, and kept most of her supplies, current concealed behind a draping set of curtains.

It was rumored that anyone who set foot inside Velvetica's personal quarters without permission would be subjected to a prompt and intense punishment. Velvetica herself saw no need to say anything else on the matter.

The map spread over the table was of the local area, the rocky plains of the borderlands, and she was examining it closely at the moment, icy blue eyes scanning each of the known mounds and rocky outcrops claimed(and sometimes proven) to house ancient tombs.

Certainly, a group of bandits could select such a place to use its reputation to conceal themselves.

However...

The tent opened before Velvetica could continue her train of though. The figure that entered was one of her personal retinue, a pretty woman several years her senior with her dark hair tied in a tight bun, wearing light clothing signifying her position as a noncombatant.

"Lady Hraesleg," she began, with a bow, "Your scouts have returned."

The blonde nodded, rising to her feet.

"Excellent, I'll meet them now."

Within a few moments, Velvetica had exited her tent. The first of her scouts to arrive was no surprise, given his speedy form of transportation.

"Sir Roger," she addressed the knight first, before her gaze shifted to the griffin, "Shortclaw."

Addressing the griffin as well was simply part of dealing with such creatures. Only an idiot would be unaware of the pride that a griffin felt in itself. To Velvetica, it was not dissimilar to the Hraesleg's pride, albeit that of a beast rather then a human's. Therefore, it was important to pay them mind when possible.

"As you have returned, I trust you and the other scouts have information for me?"

It was time to see if her suspicions could be confirmed.

@Raineh Daze@Rin@AzureKnight@Psyker Landshark@The Otter@VKAllen@Eisenhorn@Crimson Paladin@Conscripts@HereComesTheSnow@Octo@PigeonOfAstora
@Apollosarcher: Oh right sorry almost forgot to post this: Accepted. ^^;
Why was the crown prince here now!? That was the only thing that could have made the entire situation worse! First Serrica acting strangely, then Lilian showing up, and now him!?

If every day of school was going to be like this, she was going to end up dying in her new life too! The stress was too much!

She couldn't exactly not respond when she was talking to literal royalty, though, so after a few moments of stumbling over herself both mentally and physically Anne managed to take a deep breath to try and steady herself.

"A-Anne. Anne Merielle," she said, bowing her head once more, hands clasped in front of her, "A-and yes, he's doing fine now, thank you for asking..."

What did she say, now? What did she do? This was a nightmare situation. One wrong move could easily have Lilian misinterpret things. One wrong move could raise relationship flags she didn't want to trip.

It was like being surrounded by death flags. Sure, none of these would lead to death directly. At least she hoped so. But getting caught up too much in any of them was practically equivalent to launching yourself headfirst into a bad end for her.

She had to avoid it.

But she also had to try and think it through and find a route out of this situation that didn't end in some kind of pain.

Could she just walk away? Find some excuse she had to leave?!

Anne's mind was racing at this point, trying to latch on to any possible explanation she could for a sudden departure. Anything, anything...!

@PKMNB0Y@Pyromania99
"I believe it's for the best if everyone comes along," responded Aleksiya with a nod, "It's quite a bit wiser to attack in force then to leave anything to chance, is it not?"

Aleksiya would have liked to say she could do it by herself. In fact, it was rather painful to admit she couldn't in her current state. But more than that, she decided it would be rater unwise to reveal what the target was until they were out of earshot of the villagers. Only an idiot would bear them ill intent at this time, and Aleksiya fully believed in the cause of removing the threat the beast posed. However, to reveal the source was one of their allies would immediately set the villagers' suspicions running high no matter what the situation may be.

Thus, it was quite a bit wiser to wait until they could talk amongst themselves without such risks.

With that being said...

"Though... perhaps a volunteer could stay behind to help ensure the villagers' safety..."

@Psyker Landshark@Rune_Alchemist
@Apollosarcher: It's still open.
"..."

Throughout the entire process of being kicked out of Sorcha's room, Fio had been entirely unable to articulate herself. Mutely holding the jar as the crossdressing queen picked her up unceremoniously and tossed her from her room, a stream of questions ran through her mind repeatedly.

What was she doing?

Why was she doing it?

Was she meeting someone?

Why did she look so good?

When the door shut behind her, the diminutive witch simply stood there, still holding the jar, for some time.

Eventually, she mutely returned to her room.

Somehow she doubted any of those questions would ever be answered.




In a week's time, the unseelie fae was still in the jar.

She'd hardly given Fio a reason to even consider letting her free. Still, as obnoxious as she was, it would be utterly inhumane not to feed her and give her something to rest on. Meals of honey bread were given daily, and a small bed of cotton had been added to the jar. But any prospect of freedom was an extremely distant one.

And every irritating comment lengthened her sentence. The last one had even prompted Fio to threaten the unseelie with centipedes. It was a threat she'd never follow on, both because the prospect of even going near the many-legged arthropods gave her chills and because tossing centipedes into the jar was both cruel and unusual.

But that wasn't the only matter to attend to. She'd already informed the Queen of her findings from her mental dive, and subsequent dives had yielded little worthwhile information. Cethlann had prepared for them, it seemed. Little had moved on that front, but that wasn't all.

Sir Ethelred had asked her about a stone given to him by the very same unseelie that was now her prisoner. It was more proof that the fae had been hanging around and causing all sorts of mischief, even if she seemingly had some level of understanding reciprocating good deeds. While she hadn't been very helpful so far, a little bit of research had allowed Fio to discern its likely purpose at least, and she planned on informing Sir Ethelred today.

And then there was the matter of the invitation.

On its face, it was already difficult to turn down. And as much thought as Fio put into it, it didn't help.

Really, it seemed as if sending a letter back accepting the invitation, then preparing herself in every way possible, was the only option.

First, however, it was time to get ready for the meeting.

Fio covered the jar before bathing, drying herself, and putting on her clothing for the day, only uncovering it afterwards, and headed to the meeting room.

She'd speak with Sir Ethelred as soon as she got the opportunity.

@Rune_Alchemist@Crimson Paladin
No sooner then she had prepared to strike at the living figure that remained in the chamber, then that figure had suddenly sprouted horns and disappeared.

Aside from her knights, it was now.

Her heavy, shaky breathes were quite audible.

Fanilly drew in another. And another.

"... Thank you, again, Sir Gerard," she said, her blade lowering as she tried to steady herself. She was captain. She was a knight. She lead the Iron Roses.

She couldn't let herself give in to panic, not even for a few moments, simply because of something like that undead abomination.

There were plenty of unanswered questions remaining when it came to the disappeared figure. Had she seen horns on his head? The way he'd suddenly ceased to do anything in spite of clearly being their opponent and then exhibited what she knew was quite advanced magic to whisk himself away...

It didn't make sense at all.

But they didn't have time to waste on contemplating what he'd been doing, or where he went. Even Lein's decision to head back up for Dame Serenity was something they couldn't afford to stand around and wait for. There was no way of knowing what lie on the bottom floor, and they had to do all they could to rescue the hostage.

"Take positions," Fanilly ordered, her voice far less shaky now, "Archers-archer to the rear. We can't afford to take any more time."

Onward.

As they came down the steps, voices could be heard. One female, high, sharp, and the other deeper and masculine.

"You've been manhandling that girl the moment she arrived," the female voice said, accusingly, "That doesn't help your plan, does it? She's already terrified, does she need to be in pain too?"

"A hostage will make us a far more difficult opponent, Fierense. I should think you would be wise enough to know as much," replied the male voice, calmly.

"That so? So you're proud of terrorizing a young girl? I knew you were trash, but I didn't think you were that low," the female voice swiftly shot back.

"I'm merely using all tools at my disposal, Fierense, unlike you."

They had almost reached the bottom floor.

"Rotten bastard," the female voice spat, "I wish I'd never even laid eyes on you, and I definitely-"

The air suddenly seemed to vibrate. A brilliant flash of light tore across Fanilly's vision, ahead of her, stopping her in her tracks. It took a few moments for her to understand what had happened.

Lightning. A flash of lighting had crossed ahead of her, to halt her advanced. There was no way it could have hit unless she blindly rushed ahead, and whoever unleashed it would certainly know as much.

The faint electrical crackling could still be heard.

Within the chamber were three living figures.

One a tall man clad in dark clothing, a white half-mask obscuring much of his face. The dark, hooded eyeholes made it difficult to see where he was looking. One hand gripped a long staff with a green sphere at the top end, and the other was holding a nem girl, gripping her arm tightly enough to hurt. Her facial features, her stature, they were all similar to Tili's, making it immediately obvious who she was.

She was gagged, her arms and legs bound.

To the right was what had to be the source of the lightning.

Her clothing faded blues and greys, her sharp blue eyes framed by white hair, and a wide-brimmed hat atop her head. The slender girl held no catalyst in her hand, lighting instead crackling between her fingers.

"Hah, the Iron Rose Knights," she commented, "It's like Mayon herself sees what garbage you are, right?"

She glanced towards the dark-clad figure, who gritted his teeth, raising his staff.

Aside from the three living figures, the forms of shambling undead gripping swords and axes and spears were shuffling. Fanilly could see the faint form of some kind of barrier encircling the figure holding the nem hostage.

The Knight-Captain raised her sword.

"In the name of the crown and the moon, surrender at once," she ordered, eyes drifting towards the witch once again. She hadn't made a move to cast another spell yet, "Release your prisoner and and come quietly and you will be shown mercy."

It was doubtful mercy would be anything but the most painless execution they could be granted, but at the very least it was a potentially gentler fate then dying here by the sword.

"Mercy? My, how amusing," the necromancer's lips curled into a smirk, "I'm not interested, I'm afraid. I think I'm more interested in hearing you ask for mercy instead."

The undead would make it difficult to reach him swiftly, not to mention the presence of the hostage, and of the lightning witch. In addition, she wasn't sure how strong the barrier surrounding the necromancer and his prisoner would be.

As it turned out, that wasn't the end of their worries.

The necromancer's staff gleamed.

Fanilly took her sword in both hands.

The lightning witch drew one hand back.

@Rune_Alchemist@PigeonOfAstora@HereComesTheSnow@Raineh Daze




As he listened to their arguments, Sir Adeforth continued to stroke his moustache for several moments. Eventually, he nodded.

"Forgive me, but it's somewhat difficult to shake the mindset of the castle being the safest place for the Princesses," he said, "But I suppose you're right. If there are more wicked spirits expecting to attack them here, then it will be far safer for them in Candaeln."

"As much as it feels like you're all simply throwing away my work," added Heartwood, "It's not as if it's not logical. Such wicked spirits are likely not operating with much individual thought. Thus, their plan of attack is preset, so to speak. They would be targeting the most likely location for your highnesses."

He gestured to the princesses. By this point, Elisandre had raised her head and was trembling far less, though the younger girl still refused to look up.

"Ordinarily," the court mage continued, "I would gladly agree with Sir..."

He paused for a moment as he glanced towards Nicomede.

"... You," he settled on after a moment, "But I suspect our opponent is not capable of more precise attacks in their current situation. Of course, and I'm sure Sir Adeforth agrees, the ultimate decision lies with our First Princess, does it not?"

Princess Elisandre's gaze had drifted, now, falling upon the prisoner.

Tili was still shaking, her golden eyes open wide, her body curled as if trying to collapse in on itself. It was clear that the exorcism's success had not removed the effect direct and prolonged contact with an evil spirit had on her yet.

"... She's still..." Elisandre trailed off after a moment, "... A-ah, yes, er, maybe we should move! Maletha... it might be for the best for both of us!"

@Krayzikk@The Otter@Psyker Landshark@Raineh Daze
Shiratori allowed herself to smile, at least for a moment, before nodding her head.

With a brief glance at her phone, she took another step forward.

"Follow me, we're going to meet up with some others who've gotten pulled over to this side," she said, "Stay close!"

With that, she broke into a sprint.

Everything looked the same, here. The same inky black buildings. The same strangely red shadows. The same gore-spattered streets. But Shiratori Nozomi knew where she was going. Even if she hadn't had any experience here before, the map provided to her from her phone would have done its job.

She wasn't at all concerned with finding her way.

Rather, it was finding her way with Nozaki in tow and without running into-

A sound like creaking wood came from an alleyway ahead.

The thing that emerged from it was spindly, shaped something like a child's idea of a spider. The lengthy, joined black limbs ended with five-fingered, grasping hands, currently being used to scuttle across the ground and suspending it in the air above both Nozaki and her own heads.

Each limb connected to a central body, a circular shape with three white masks, each sporting a simple pair of black eyesockets and a thin smile.

When it caught sight of them, a lengthy crimson tongue emerged from each of the masks, hanging, twisting in the air below it.

Damn it, in a tight place like this, with someone she had to protect...!

"Tch...! This way!"

Grasping Nozaki's hand in her own, Shiratori Nozaki immediately tugged him down the nearest alley, as the creature started to follow after them.

"Don't look back!"

@Bartimaeus




Unfortunately for both of the girls, it wasn't going to be so easy.

No sooner then they'd started running then the source of the slimy noise became apparent.

A black, shadowy pool of darkness on the floor, sliding along it, leaving a trail of inky goo in its wake. But it wasn't entirely featureless.

In its center was a white mask, sporting two empty sockets and a wide smile. It stopped just in front of them, the strange thick fluid that made up its body roiling for a moment before suddenly rising into a black lump, about as tall as a grown man and twice as wide, the mask suspended in its center.

A sound not unlike the giggling of a young child came from it, and the mask twisted upside-down, as numerous black hands rose from its base, suspended on long, thin arms, already reaching, grasping...

@Pitsuji@Psyker Landshark




The moment anyone made to peek outside, they would be greeted with what was perhaps a surprising sight.

It was a boy, a high schooler from the very same school as they were. He wasn't particularly recognizable. Maybe one of them had seen him before, maybe one of them hadn't. But he was most certainly clad in the very same school uniform as they were.

His gaze was fixed on the sky.

Or more specifically the moon.

He was shaking. Trembling with terror, backing up as if something was looking at him. His trembling breaths were loud enough to be barely audible from the store.

And then he grasped at his face, screaming, shuddering, falling to his knees as his entire body seized, spasming and twitching. Black fluid began to pour from his face, from his eyes, mouth, and nose, splattering onto the ground beneath him.

Moments later, he fell face-first into the pool of inky darkness, and no longer moved.

@AThousandCurses@hatakekuro@DarckLeon
"Fine, fine, I know," Elizstrazia replied, waving one small hand to and fro, "Our contract and all. I'm not going to go on a bloody rampage, if that's what you're worried about."

At least, not until combat began.

Still, it was annoying to have to listen to someone's orders, even if she'd entered Livia's employment knowing that would be the case. Knowing and agreeing to do it didn't make it any less bothersome.

However, the petite draconic girl had little to complain about when she was described as charming, regardless of the context, nor did she hesitate to take Livia's hand once again.

It was warm.

Her bare, scaled feet touched the ground only a brief moment later.

At least if she was going to be working somewhere, it was somewhere that befit her own beauty. The well-kept grass, the fine architecture, it was perhaps the minimum she could expect for someone like herself but at least it wasn't below that.

The scale demon followed Livia to the mansion, immediately taking stock of the other maids when they entered.

She was supposed to respect them, wasn't she?

Being truthful was the best way to be respectful, wasn't it?

It only made sense.

Elizstrazia stepped forward, smirking, with a hand placed to her chest.

"That's right, if you couldn't tell by my beautiful looks, I'm a scale demon," she began, her tail swishing from side to side, "I'd hope you didn't need me to tell you, given what that would say about your intelligence."

One of her razor teeth, a fang, showed as she cocked her head to the side.

"I won't mind if you admire me, but don't get in my way in battle. I don't want to have to work around you just to spill their guts all over," she continued. Naturally, she was obviously being perfectly respectful. Saying anything less then her true feelings would be to lie, and you didn't lie to someone you respected.

"Ah, and just because I can create barriers doesn't mean you can expect me to defend you," she added, crimson eyes glittering as if to emphasize her smug demeanor, "If you want cover, you'll just have to get behind me."

@Rune_Alchemist@Click This@AzureKnight@Pyromania99
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