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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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Heir to the Konpaku


Given the jiangshi is warding everyone away from the mausoleum, or at least trying, it's probably true that Kaku Seiga has set herself up inside. And on top of that, given that the necromancer hasn't shown up the whole time we've been here since we showed up that means she's probably elsewhere at the moment.

So, there's really no choice. It's clear what we have to do to learn more about what might be going on, despite the fact I'm not particularly excited about it.

It's not that I'm not confident I can do it, I just would rather not have to deal with Kaku Seiga if I can avoid it.

But the jiangshi isn't prepared at all, she's busy with eating part of one of those spirits, so this won't take very long at all.

It only takes a few steps for me to get in front of her. This isn't danmaku, so it's not a problem if I take the quick and easy path while she's not ready for a fight.

My fingers grip the talisman on her head. It's not like this will do anything worse then make her forget what she's doing. That soft brain of hers isn't good at retaining orders.

In the same motion that I pull it off the jiangshi's forehead, my leg moves forward to set her off balance.

She's probably too stiff to get up if she falls forward.

That should take care of the biggest obstacle. It'd be more involved if she actually managed to resist and fight, but I'm still pretty certain I'd take her out regardless.

@Raineh Daze@FujiwaraPhoenix




The Wandering Cat


The needle left the oiran's throat in a spurt of blood, as the blue-clad woman smirked the moment she witnessed the appearance of the truely-divine Yasaka Kanako. Certainly, it wasn't her preference to be involved with such gods, but at the moment that was enough to guarantee this wicked spirit would be crushed.

Especially when combined with the knight-witch's efforts, ensuring not a single obstacle remained to reaching the evil ghost.

With the butterflies cleared away, her own body still struggling to move with the ghostly hands restraining her, the oiran couldn't do anything to evade attack.

"I'll drown you in---"

The ghost's snarl was cut off when the pillars reached her.

The onbashira slammed into the oiran all at once, skidding across the ground and dragging her body with them. Their divine nature only made them all the more potent against such a wicked ghost.

As they dragged her body against the ground, a crimson smear was left behind. The ghost's phantasmal flesh was being shredded, torn apart, bones and organs ground into unrecognizable states as her fine clothing was torn apart. Pieces of her body were spread across the empty street in a near-totally destroyed state, as nothing but phantom meat.

When they came to a halt, blood seeped from around the point where the onbashira had stopped, the pillars thankfully obscuring whatever gory mess remained beneath them.

But the oiran was not a living person.

A chunk of her head that had been thrown free, harboring her right eye, was still in sight. Despite the destruction of most of her body, that remaining eye was wide, burning with fury.

@DracoLunaris@FujiwaraPhoenix
"Mmmm..."

Arken let out a heavy sigh.

"It's not as if I'm unaware of the Moonlit Queens," he said, finally, "I had my suspicions when I heard the name used. It's less like they're unoriginal and more like it's a coveted title."

He fell silent again, looking thoughtful.

"Niyar, if this is a fairy who has maintained the Moonlit Queen title for herself, then do you think it's likely she's also created a fae realm?"

"Fae realm?"

Fanilly paused. She'd followed along to the summoning room, feeling it was best if she knew the details first hand and thus could plan for what happened next. But the term 'fae realm'...

It wasn't that she'd never heard of it, not really. There were plenty of tales of fairies, both seelie and unseelie, inhabiting their own layer of reality. She certainly knew that this was somewhat the case in the real world, that certain locations were gateways to this strange fairyland that few returned from.

"Isn't that to be expected?" she asked, "I know that powerful fairies tend to be found in their own realms instead of out in the open."

"There's more to a fae realm then simply being a fairy's personal closed-off space," answered Arken, crossing his arms, "If she has her own fae realm then this is a much more dangerous prospect then merely dealing with her and whatever entourage she might have accumulated."

There was more to this then Fanilly knew from the stories of her childhood, that much was certain.

"What do you mean?"

She had to know. For her knights' sake, as well as the duke's. Any potential obstacle towards mending the duke's mind, or something that could harm her knights, had to be out in the open. While she knew that venturing into a fairy's domain certainly would be a dangerous prospect, this went beyond what she knew from those children's tales or the later novels she'd read.

"A fae realm isn't just a space that a powerful fairy can close off from the rest of the world," replied Arken, "It's a layer of the world divorced from both the mortal and spiritual realms. A sort of pocket space birthed from a fae's desires and dreams. A dreamland that only the fae who created it can control. A fae realm twists to its creator's desires, and so does everyone within it."

Fanilly's hands tensed. It wasn't just that they could end up sealed outside or trapped inside, or that fairy magic would be more potent in such a domain. Instead, it was more like the reality within the fae realm was dictated entirely by its creator's whims?

How---

How did they even begin to approach such a thing?




"A monster?" questioned Dame Yael, placing a hand to her chin, "Hmmm..."

The aessyr paused for a moment, eyes widening and shining as she was distracted by the cherry-filled pastry. Her miniscule hands shot out and grasped it, and she was almost immediately burying her face in it.

It took a few moments before she returned, cherry filling clinging to her cheeks. Despite one of her friends having seemingly been swallowed by some kind of creature, it seemed as if eating something sweet had lifted her spirits considerably.

"Yaay! Thank you Sir Knight!" she declared, brightly, flashing a wide grin, "It's really tasty! And---oh, Enfys...!"

She lowered the pastry, the worry returning to her face. Aessyr were childish and easily distracted, but that didn't mean they would so easily forget something important like the life of a friend being at stake.

"It's... big!" she raised one tiny hand, attempting to illustrate a tall scale, "With big, long legs, and a really wide mouth. It's all dark---"

A shudder ran through the tiny fairy's body, her gaze now drifting away from the knights as she tightly clutched the chunk of pastry in both of her little hands. When she spoke, her voice trembled.

"I-It feels bad, really bad. The air wasn't right even before it appeared and started smashing everything up. It felt like everything was getting sick, a-and heavy..."

"That doesn't sound like a natural creature," commented Dame Yael, a small frown on her features, "The aessyr it swallowed could be---"

"She's okay!" insisted the aessyr, firmly, snapped to attention "She's definitely okay! Even if she got swallowed up, she'll be okay!"

Dame Yael didn't respond, but it was clear what she was thinking.

Explaining that concept to a creature that likely didn't understand it wasn't a prospect she particularly liked. At the same time---

Aessyr were fairies. Even if the creature was an unnatural one, Enfys's survival wasn't impossible.
Heir to the Konpaku


I step back, lowering Roukanken.

He's surrendered. It almost seems like the fight broke out based on some kind of misunderstanding, though I can't say I understand why.

Why would any of these abilities be associated with curses? Curses were something negative, and while one could view Fujiwara no Mokou's immortality as a curse it certainly benefited her while she was fighting.

Didn't curses only benefit the one who placed them in the first place? Didn't they sometimes backfire on those people anyway, or just condemn them as part of the process?

Did this guy come from a world where all power comes from curses?

Maybe that's the reason he attacked so quickly. I can't imagine such a world being pleasant.

"I can't say I'm happy about it, but I know that jiangshi's owner."

If Kaku Seiga is here---

No, maybe she isn't? Maybe Miyako Yoshika is just here on her own. Kochiya-san still has her connection to the Moriya Shrine's gods, so maybe it's similar with this brainless jiangshi and her mistress?

I hope so.

"I'd rather not have to deal with her," I add. While I'm certain I could defeat her, and wouldn't exactly hate cutting her down again---

She's creepy.

She's really creepy. I don't like the way she looks at me. Or the way she talks about me. Or the way she talks about that jiangshi. Or any of her behavior in general.

And that's putting aside the kind of spells she uses.

"While I have no problem slashing him if he causes trouble, I don't think we should do anything to him unless we have to."

I glance towards the strange, summoning monk. He's acted strange, but I don't think it's enough to warrant anything else. He already surrendered, after all, and completely dropped his defenses even though I certainly could have killed him.

Still---

"But maybe he should come with us for now, just in case."

@FujiwaraPhoenix@Raineh Daze




The Scarlet Devil


I can't say I'm happy down here.

The darkness suits me perfectly fine, of course. It's not as if it impedes me in any way. The dampness and somewhat odd scents, not at all.

Ugh, why can't Sakuya be here? At least she'd be able to help keep my dress clean.

Geh, what if this tunnel is full of those---

...

This rattling sound, this clanking...

The shambling shapes enter my view. Yellowed bone, clad in plate armor and wielding blades that weren't in their best conditions, but could still cut.

Really?

This is what's down here?

"Skeletons?"

I cock my head to the side, a smirk crossing my lips.

"Is that it? The murderer's really uncreative, aren't they? There's no style or flair here at all!"

They're lacking blood. That's annoying.

But my stomach isn't empty anymore, thanks to the Hourai Immortal.

I think it's time to see how much I've been restored.

The skeletons can't resist Lewa's efforts. I don't remember seeing him pull off something like this before, but I can't act as if it's not useful.

Not that skeletons would be a problem for me, of course. But immobilizing a good number of them and pushing them back makes picking my first target a lot easier.

I place one foot forward, leaning as I do.

A lady should be elegant.

So I'll elegantly destroy these wastes of space.

I stretch my wings behind me.

The world stretches around me for an instant, blurring as I launch myself forward---

Bone cracks. My hand grips the skeleton by the head, my fingers in its empty, dusty eye sockets.

Pulling it free is trivial. Crushing it against the cavern wall is just as easy.

I slam the headless skeleton down beneath my feet, tossing its shattered skull aside.

Animated bones are the cheapest and most uninteresting undead familiars. But at least they're not that messy.

Oh?

Still moving, huh?

I wrap my fingers around its wrist and pull, tearing its right arm from its socket and tossing it into the other skeletons as they attempt to renew their advance.

If it's still moving after that, then---

I reach down and grab the visible portion of its spine, protruding from where its head once was.

It'll take a bit more effort. I'm still not as strong as I should be.

My fingers tighten.

I twist my arm sharply, a snap resounding through the cavern.

"Unless you're stupid," I comment, rising to my feet, "You should go for their spines. Just taking the head off won't be---"

I step back and raise my arm in the same motion as a dull axe swings down towards me, catching the skeleton by its arm and yanking it off balance.

Is there such a thing as being too stupid to even call literally brainless? Even as a mindless undead, was there a reason for it to try and make that work?

My right hand balls into a fist and I step back---

And thrust it into the skeleton's torso, forcing it backwards.

---Grrr. That should have gone right through the armor and shattered its spine!

I seriously, really need more blood already!

@VitaVitaAR@Lugubrious@Drifting Pollen@FujiwaraPhoenix@Rezod92
"... A-aren't knights in shining armor supposed to be heroes?! I-isn't that what humans do!? Uwaaaah..."

The voice sounded somewhat frustrated, but more panicked then anything.

But then she revealed herself.

It was not the pitch-black, bare form of the unpredictable and dangerous nithyr. Nor was it the green and less threatening form of a niyar.

Instead, it was what was in fact a far more common sight, as fairies went.

The aessyr was miniscule, easily able to stand in in the palm of a human's hand. Her hair was a pale blue shade, and her tiny body was clad in a dress made from yellow flower petals, sewn together using spider silk. There was a faint thrum as her insect-like wings blurred, carrying her towards the assembled knights.

Rather then mischief in her eyes, she looked more frantic then anything as she flew right up to the assembled knights.

"A single aessyr?" commented Caulder, his armor clanking slightly as he leaned towards the diminutive girl, "Hmph, normally they come in swarms and try to sell you cursed goods. Or steal your valuables, they're good at that as well."

"I-I don't sell anything with curses!" protested the aessyr immediately, her miniature hands balling into equally small fists, "... I don't think so, at least..."

She paused for a moment, as if trying to recall any specific incidents, but then the look of panic quickly returned to her tiny features.

"There was a monster! It smashed up my house and swallowed Enfys and chased everyone else away!" she cried, waving her small arms up and down, "Knights kill monsters, right?! Cut it open so she can get out!"

While aessyr were known for playing pranks, the frantic tone of the tiny fae's voice made it come across as genuine. And, given their size and nature, the possibility of an aessyr surviving being swallowed by some kind of creature wasn't completely ridiculous.

So it was possible she was telling the truth.

Or, perhaps, she was merely a good actor. Regardless, something was going on, and the aessyr was a fae regardless of her motives.

Given they were looking for clues on a particular fairy's location, this wasn't the worst lead.

@Eisenhorn@HereComesTheSnow
The Wandering Cat


"Ahahaha! With my beauty at this point, what can you ugly whores possibly do?" the oiran cackled as she raised her hand, the oil in her immediate vicinity seeming to ignite as a wave of butterflies erupted from within it to intercept Rayne's rage-filled offensive. Even as as several bursts of energy managed to pierce through the blast, it was clear that too much of the assault was being interrupted by the butterflies to leave a lasting affect.

The oiran's pleased demeanor barely faltered, even as flesh was torn free from her body and sprayed backwards across the street of the burning town. It simply reformed, veins and muscle tissue and bone twisting back together before being covered once more by her pale skin.

At this point, it was likely she had enough energy to swiftly recover from such injuries, and produce enough of her butterflies to intercept most ranged attacks.

The smirk on the beautiful, yet wicked woman's lips only grew. She was confident there was no escape for the miko or the knight-witch, not as long as the final level of her curse grew stronger and spread. She'd suck them dry of everything they had, and in turn grow in power and beauty. At this rate, she'd devour this entire district, and then beyond. This entire city, all its men would become her meals, and its women would burn for her.

And then---

Something clung to her leg.

"Ah?"

It was a small stubby hand. It emerged from beneath her, the earth itself, clinging to her ankle.

It was pallid, and ethereal, emitting a faint blue glow.

Another joined it. And another. And another.

"Wh-what? Get off of me, you vermin---!"

She tried to raise her leg and pull away from the clinging hands, but they gripped her and pulled her foot down. Hundreds upon hundreds of tiny, grasping hands, stretching upwards and clinging to her kimono, gripping the oiran's clothing, her legs, and even her arms now to hold her on the spot.

The oiran's smug demeanor had faded, now, her lips parted and her teeth clenched. Though her butterflies were still forming, her cursed oil continuing to spread, the distraction had taken her attention and her control over the butterflies had faltered as they began to move less cohesively and spread apart.

"Get off! You have no right to---"

The oiran was cut off in a spray of blood. A wet, unpleasant gurgling left her throat, as blood trickled from the corner of her mouth.

A silver and gold ornamental needle pierced her neck from behind.

"Shouldn't your manners be more important, given the job you had in life?"

The woman behind her had slender, pale arms, one hand gripping the needle now penetrating the oiran's neck from behind. Her nails were painted blue. Her hair and eyes, too, were blue, and she was clad in a blue dress and white vest, a shimmering translucent cloth floating around her shoulders. The needle had evidently been taken from her hair, which now hung loose down her back.

The blue-haired woman twisted it, driving it deeper, a smirk growing on her lips as the blue hands climbed higher over the oiran's body.

"I would say I can sympathize with being unsuited for close-range, but given how much I dislike you I think I'll refrain," she commented, sweetly.

Her voice made it clear who she was. To Rayne, it was obvious this was Qing'e. And to Sanae---

"Kochiya, Rayne, she's not going to be able to move for a few moments."

Despite having seemingly been engulfed in flames while vomiting oil, the blue-haired woman seemed positively radiant.

"So I think it would be a good time to make this bitch regret every choice she's ever made, don't you~?"

Indeed, the cloud of butterflies was growing less increasingly less cohesive, with more and more gaps forming, even as the orian twitched helplessly and spat blood. Between the needle severing her spine, even if she was a ghost, and the numerous small hands trying to pull her down, she'd been rendered entirely unable to defend herself for just a short time.

@FujiwaraPhoenix@DracoLunaris
"My loyal forces... yes, the Pie-People are indeed ready for my command!"

The Duke's declaration was, at least, filled with confidence that he would be defended. It was at least a sentiment Fanilly shared, it didn't appear as if there were any direct traitors in the midst, and she suspected most people in Brennan would find it impossible to to cause the abrupt appearance of such madness. Besides, at the very least, Duke Thedric's immediate servants had assisted in contacting help.

On top of all that, the likelihood of fae interference was far more probable then anything else, at the moment. At the very least, that meant they could start there.

"For the moment," the Knight-Captain began, "We need to attempt to discern as much information as possible about what may have happened. Sir Gerard and Sir Rolan have left to serve as a scouting party, and I've dispatched some of the other knights alongside them. With any luck, we may be able to pinpoint likely places that this 'Moonlit Queen' may be lurking."

Fanilly's understanding the fae was mostly informed by stories from her childhood, and occasional mentions in historical or otherwise informative texts. There were many sorts of fae, and it was speculated that their origins lay with one of the elven gods. But nothing was entirely certain in that regard.

"I can only pray that you find something soon," Sir Aglan said with a heavy sigh, "Lord Dannic is bright and driven, but I don't believe he's ready to succeed his father."

Doubt rose in Fanilly's mind once more. She knew that Lord Dannic was young, younger than herself. What if they couldn't help with the seemingly fae-touched Duke's sanity?

What if there wasn't any way to fix it?

Would the Duke's son have to take his place?




Ahead of Sir Renar was a slender boy, perhaps thirteen or fourteen, his slim features pointed downwards, bright green eyes fixed on the pages of an open book and framed by wavy black hair.

It was only when he heard the knight speak that he looked up, with a slight jump.

"Ah, Sir Renar, I'd heard that the Iron Rose Knights had arrived. I... take it that you already spoke to father," he replied, his gaze downcast for a few moments, his voice taking a more sombre tone.

But when he spoke again, his energy had returned.

"Father's personal affects? Well... Not all of them, yet, but I did manage to find one of his old journals. That's why I'm here, it mentioned something strange that I thought I might be able to learn more about if I consulted the library tomes."

He took the book he'd been reading gently in one hand, lifting it to display its title.

Fae, and other Creatures of the Wilds.

It seemed that the Lord's son had come to a similar conclusion to the Knights.

"I'd only found it earlier today, so I wasn't certain, but... Supposedly Father spoke to someone before he went mad, at that party. He told me it was someone he knew, too, before his sanity abandoned him. Someone bathed in moonlight, and touched by stars."

Reaching into the bag sitting beside him, the boy took out a leatherbound journal.

"So I thought there might be some mention of them here, but there's only one person he describes that way."

It was clear, thankfully, that Dannic was willing to share anything he felt might be useful, as he opened the journal to a marked page.

"See? Isn't this strange?"

He pointed towards a specific passage.

"At times, I must confess I wish for simpler days. Days where I spent my time in the forest, playing with that star-touched girl and sharing with her secrets that have long since lost their importance. Alas, those days are long gone, and my duty to my people comes first."

"Father mentions the 'star-touched girl' in the forest more than once," he added, "But he never says anything else about her. So I thought, maybe..."

His gaze returned to the other book.




"It's not that I'm stumped, it's just..." Arken sighed heavily. He didn't appear particularly surprised by the summoning's success. It wasn't as if summoning was a particularly rare skill, especially when it came to more agreeable fae and other spirits.

"But I didn't ask if you needed it, I asked if you wanted it," Fiadh 'helpfully' pointed out, swaying to some unheard rhythm in the circle and nodding along as Gertrude kept talking. And looking scandalised, which was not an expression usually associated with the Niyar.

"A contract? That's very forward of you. To propose so forwardly on just our second meeting… you seem like a nice girl, but I'm afraid that will need to wait a little while~"

Arken was, right now, looking like he wanted to be anywhere but in this room. Even with Fiadh returning to the actual question and following up with one of her own, asking where they were.

"I see… no, no, I can't tell you who exactly the Moonlit Queen would be. It's quite a popular title with the more powerful faeries. She probably is a queen, but who could say? She might be nasty and out to kill everyone, or maybe she's going to be a nice girl unless you provoke her. Or one of those fairies that reaaaaaaaally likes word games. Just don't suggest there might be other moonlit queens around, they tend to get upset about usurpers. Which is silly, they're all lit up by the moon, aren't they? Well, maybe there's one underground, that would be impressive…"




Brennan Forest was lush, and green. It was the sort of place one could easily get lost in, if they didn't stick to more well-known areas or well-trodden paths.

The trees could easily become maze-like. Perhaps, this was a reason why it was rumored that many sorts of fae called certain areas of the forest their home.

The Knight-Captain hadn't stopped Sir Gerard and Sir Rolan, but instead she had insisted several of the other available knights accompanied them immediately, just in case.

Among them was Sir Caulder, a fairly burly and well-armored man who wielded a large axe, his very bright blue eyes piercing right through his visor. His armor wasn't particularly ornate, but it was finely-crafted and always shown brilliantly.

Another was Dame Yael, a knight who, in her armor, appeared to be a boy who could be described as beautiful rather than handsome, her purple eyes and short brown hair framed by smooth, well-proportioned features.

Without armor, it was impossible to mistake her for a boy, however.

It was her who spoke up, after a moment.

"I shouldn't need to remind you," she began, "But it's for the best if we don't split up."

Perhaps the fact she mentioned it at all indicated her feelings on Sir Gerard and Sir Rolan.

At first, the trek into the forest seemed to be rather fruitless. Particularly due to them sticking to the trail, as during such hours it was simply unlikely that any fae or other creatures would reveal themselves on their own without any motivation.

Unlikely, however, did not mean impossible.

"Help! Someone come and help!"

That frantic voice sounded like a young girl's, and it was definitely originating from the thick grove of trees to the right of the small party of knights.
The Wandering Cat





"For the moment, I'm able," came Qing'e's remarkably calm response, "Your friend's efforts are warding off some of the effects of this phantom's curse, but not all of them. Touching those butterflies still means death."

The cloaked woman took one step back, then tilted her body sideways, slipping through a cluster of swarming butterflies even as they turned towards her en masse. But as long as they could shave their their numbers, surely, the spectral insects wouldn't be too troublesome, would they?

Indeed, it seemed as if Sanae and Rayne's efforts were able to swiftly clear away the butterflies that had been harrassing their ally.

The ghostly oiran narrowed her eyes. Her butterflies had offered her a shield against the various projectiles being hurled her way for the moment, but that meant she was unable to use them to attack successfully.

The oiran's eyes narrowed, particularly fixed on Sanae now.

"I don't believe you understand the efforts even the most beautiful must go through, girl," she nearly snarled, "But you'll learn far more than that soon enough."

The butterflies were still appearing, but the rate at which they incarnated seemed to slow, ever so slightly.

Something else was happening.

The thriving trees began to blacken, leaves falling away and putting off smoke as they suddenly burned. The sky began to darken, not with clouds but with drifting ash.

Screams echoed through the empty streets, cries of panic and shock as the buildings around them started to buckle.

There were no visible flames, and yet the heat could be felt quite intensely. The beautiful, decorated buildings were smoldering, flags and paper walls beginning to fray as the condition of the street started to rapidly degrade.

But it didn't end there.

From the oiran's feet, something else began to emerge. A thick, black shadow stretching across the ground, spreading in every direction.

No, not a shadow. It was something else. A black substance like oil, oozing across every space and rapidly flowing towards the oiran's trio of targets.

"Ah? This is---"

For only a brief moment, Qing'e's foot touched the oil-soaked ground. She had taken a position furthest forward, now, which meant that she was the first it reached.

"Ghhhk?!"

She stumbled forward, retching. From beneath her hood spilled a flood of pitch black oil, much like what now coated the ground.

"nng... so that's... i-it..."

Her voice trembled now, sounding weakened. Even as she spoke, black oil still splattered to the ground from her mouth.

"... I-it won't kill you, not immediately, b-but---"

A single butterfly alighted on Qing'e's cloak.

And in that very moment, her entire figure was seemingly engulfed in flames. Bathed in a brilliant yellow and orange inferno that spread over everything.

The oiran cackled, deeply breathing in the smoke that emanated from the woman's smoldering form, only to pause and narrow her eyes once more.

Had they lost an ally? Had they come here at her behest, only for her to die? Just what was the curse in the oil spreading ever closer?

The burning cloak drifted to the ground shapelessly. There was nothing beneath it.

@FujiwaraPhoenix@DracoLunaris




The Scarlet Devil





The front of the shop was dusty, but nothing seemed particularly wrong.

But below---

Ugh. What a mess. These surroundings are completely unsuited for one such as myself. Everything is smashed and ruined, and while there's no visible blood I can still smell it.

It's stronger then it was upstairs. Faint, but it's still there.

"The shopkeeper was probably murdered down here."

I wave my hand in the air, casually.

There's no reason to be subtle. Nor any reason to try and conceal the obvious. The scent of blood makes it clear enough to me, and no-one else should need to hear more of an explanation.

After all, the absolute mess in the basement should be enough to confirm there was a struggle.

"Maybe others, too, the scent of blood hasn't faded that much even though it's been a long time," I add as I glance towards the back of the shop, "Being dead certainly explains why he's so lousy at his business."

That scent is going all the way to the back of the basement.

... I'll let someone else check. There's no reason for me to go ahead and get covered in even more dust and cobwebs.

@FujiwaraPhoenix@Drifting Pollen@Rezod92@Lugubrious
Incredible.

It was one of those sights she'd really only dreamed about. The sea parted before her eyes.

In an instant, the threat lurking within was laid bear. In an instant, that opening had been created, just as promised.

---But it wouldn't last.

Robin took a deep breath. From her position, she could see Esben and Eve, now. With enough momentum, she was pretty certain that she could do it, and that she was the person in the best position to try.

She sucked in a deep breath. Either this would end with them both in the wate,r or she'd be able to help Eve and save Esben's life.

Given the stakes, the odds didn't really matter to her.

Besides, what kind of person would she be if she didn't try?

Certainly, not a hero.

Robin raised her feet, braced herself on the mast for a moment, and pushed off---

The salty air rushed past her as she swung downwards, reaching out. Her training honed speed more than raw power, but like this, she was certain that she'd be able to get Esben to safety---!
Heir to the Konpaku





One---

Two---

Three, four, five---

His last defenses aren't anything special. I can tell he can summon more powerful monsters, but I think cutting his sight must have made it more difficult for him to coordinate.

Purple blood drips from Roukanken's edge, splattered across the ground, as the falling corpses break apart. That's right, I have a spare moment to reach him and force him to back down!

I can't move reliably as fast as normal. If I could, this battle would have been over in a flash and there would have been no question of my victory.

But he's just out of reach. I need to reach him, to put my blade up to his throat and make him back down before anything else happens---!

His eyes refocus.

My grip on Roukanken tightens as the spiral of sick-feeling energy above him roils and begins to move.

If I have to, if I'm given no clear choice to take another path---

Grandfather told me that I should be prepared. That even if I live a gentle life without the need for true bloodshed, that doesn't mean that I shouldn't ready myself.

"Understand this, granddaughter. These arts are meant to kill. One day, you may have to use them to do just that. Not to simply slay a monster or banish a phantom, but to spill the blood of a being who can think and speak just like yourself."

I know that much.

I know that I might have to do it.

I can't let him release that sickly spiral of seething, rotten energy. I don't know what it will do to anyone it strikes, to this surrounding area.

If it's come to this, then the day my grandfather told me about may have finally come.

My body tenses, Roukanken's gleaming edge rising into the night air. I suck air in, filling my lungs as my heart pounds faster with every passing instant.

I have to do this for my own safety. For the safety of this entire area. If I have no choice, it's not because I didn't try, it's because I was given none.

I have to do this

I have to.

If I truly have no choice, then---

The spiral in the air twists and inverts in on itself. It's torn backwards, sucked away by an invisible force.

What?

The look of shock on my opponent's face tells me this isn't part of his plan.

I follow his gaze, and---

Ah.

I'd nearly forgotten she was here. She must have just been brainlessly watching until she saw something that looked tasty, in that rotten brain of hers.

All that sickly energy is disappearing into Miyako Yoshika's mouth.

There's no time to pause and consider what any of this might mean.

I bring Roukanken down, stopping its edge when it reaches the monk's neck.

"I don't want to hurt you, but if you keep fighting you'll leave me with no choice."

A feeling of relief has washed over me. It's not that I'm not ready to take a life, but if it's not necessarily then there's no reason to go through with it.

"Surrender, and call off all your remaining monsters. Now."

My tone is firm.

I'm not going to allow an argument.

@FujiwaraPhoenix@Raineh Daze
It was hard not to take note of the way Dame Tyaethe had latched onto the mention of Lord Rozenalt. Fanilly's mind drifted backwards, to the conversation with the reconstructed Sir Cyrus in Dame Merilia's realm. Initially, she'd dismissed it as part of the Duke's madness, but did Dame Tyaethe think---

Nevermind. It wasn't important at the moment. They had to focus on what mattered, and right now that was attempting to discern the location of the mysterious Moonlit Queen.

While Lady Fiadh wasn't from around here natively, she was still a fae. If the Moonlit Queen was some form of fae, as expected, then that meant that it was at least possible that she might have some information.

Fanilly searched her mind for stories of fae from her childhood. Despite the very real dangers presented by some of their kind, or perhaps because of them, it was rather popular to regale children with such stories. The Toadstool and the Raven, Whimsical Raley, or even the more mature Court of Shadows were all stories she had read when she was younger, and all of them drew from the fae.

Maybe there was mention of something similar to this Moonlit Queen in one of them?

Taking note of Sir Rolan and Sir Gerard's conversation, the knight-captain took a deep breath before approaching them.

"If you're going to be scouting for potential places the fae might congregate, I'll as you to be careful," she began, "And I'd like you to wait to be accompanied by a few more knights just in case."

Fanilly had no more complex reasons for this beyond not wanting to place her knights are more risk then necessary, and if fairies were somehow driving people to madness then there was no reason not to be cautious.

Meanwhile, Sir Renar's question was met with some consideration.

"Hmmm... There's his butler, Evart," Sir Aglan said after a thoughtful pause, "But if you're speaking about his personal records then it would be difficult to think of anyone other than his Grace's son. As you might expect, young Lord Dannic has been quite busy, but he's currently in the manor library."

The fact that Gertrude had only been learning summoning magic for two weeks was met with a look of incredulity on Arken's face, but it was perhaps the confidence with which the Knight-Captain had allowed Gertrude to take on this task that made him do nothing more than sigh and accompany the other magic practitioner.

It was likely that the maid outfit-clad witch's explanation of the magic circle made him even less inclined to help her spot any details that might unravel the circle's secrets.

There was a glimmer of green light, and the unmistakeable smell of the forest—and then there was a small, familiar figure poking curiously at the barrier the circle constructed around her. "Darling says you're not all married, but here you are summoning me… you know, this is very rude. I can't even reach any of those sweets you've gotten for us!"

The fairy paused briefly, turning a disappointed look up at Gertrude, but then brightened up and continued on without chance for a response, chattering away, "So, if you couldn't wait until you got home, there must be something you want… something that all those busy warriors can't spare the time for. Hmm… were you lonely? Did you want me to braid your hair too? Oh, or I could pat your head and call you a good girl! That would be nice, wouldn't it?"
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