Fire Emblem: Parallel Ties

Reanimator Buns

Just some gal who's a necromancer
Original poster
LURKER MEMBER
FOLKLORE MEMBER
Genres
Fantasy Romance, Scifi

~ Prologue ~

On the continent of Kelmar resides the Church of Io originating from the Theocracy of Lysen. While the teachings of the Church preach of sharing the bounties of the earth with all of the world, they must first acknowledge that such gifts are given by the grace of the Goddess Io. As such the Theocracy has been known to expand its borders further and further beyond its normal reach. What once started as a small nation surrounding the tallest peak in Kelmar has stretched into a vast territory who has been halted only by the mountain ranges between the Military State of Eruna and the Heroes’ League of Amaranth.

However, with the sudden arrival of several new generals who appeared mysteriously, Archbishop Felis has declared a Holy War upon Eruna, aiming to finally pierce the mountainous kingdom's defenses.

To the South of Eruna lies Alahem. Alahem is mostly filled with harsh desert, inhabitable under most circumstances. However set in the center of this cruel desert lies a great oasis, where a grand city has been erected with awe inspiring white structures that seem to shine in the desert sun. Alahem is the seat of magic and knowledge, and while they follow the teachings of Io, they are not fond of Lysen’s aggressions, and remain neutral in the upcoming conflicts.

Right now, the heiress to the wealthy Helminth Merchant Company has been studying under a great sage in Alahem. Though she has never needed to apply herself to much, a sudden twist in fate shall drive her to mature or perish.

~ In Sage Bonta’s Study ~

“Ms Helminth!”

Lyza was rudely awoken by the shrill call of her teacher, beckoning her out of her room. She was as sleepy and groggy and irritated as ever. Only just the other day, Bonta had informed her father that she was letting her maid do all her work for her. Needless to say, he wasn’t pleased and had her leave Lyza’s side. Lyza lazily rolled out of bed and donned her cloak after changing into some clothes that felt more appropriate for the desert heat. She tried to get her hair to behave, but it was futile as always. As much as she’d love to have nice straight and tamed hair, for whatever reason it seemed to not care about her wishes. It irked her immensely.

“Ms Helminth!”

The shriek was louder and more curt than before. She swung the door open and yelled back at her teacher “What!” immediately a switch came flying toward the arm holding the door, as she quickly pulled it back with a frightened “Eep!” There was Sage Bonta, dressed in a purple cloak and a hood pulled over her head, which only did so much to hide her wrinkled features and clouded eyes. For someone who was supposed to be blind, she was very accurate with that cane of hers

“You were supposed to begin your studies exactly 4 minutes ago. Sit down and read. I will not allow you to practice any more magic until you have read that book from cover to cover.” She pointed to a large tome sitting amidst the messy desk in the center of the room. The beast was massive, and must have weighed at least 100 pounds. Lyza was, of course, not pleased.

“You can’t expect-Eep!” Once again with stunning accuracy for an elderly blind woman, the cane was swung right by her face, causing the wind to toss what little hair she managed to tame back to its natural place. Bonta dragged her by the ear to the seat in front of the tome. Lyza cried out in pain, protesting no matter how fruitless it was. Once forced into her seat by the old woman, she began to wrap rope around her, giving her just enough slack to turn the pages of the book.

“H-Hey! You can’t just tie me up! I swear if any of my family hears of this-” She was cut off by Bonta. “It was your family’s idea. And while I typically dislike such an approach…” She paused and got right into Lyza’s ear. “For you I’ll make an exception.” After finishing up, Bonta headed towards the door. “You’re just going to leave me tied up?!”

Bonta looked back at her right before leaving. “I have business at the palace, and honestly I’d rather not suffer any more of your incessant whining. Read the damn book!”

With that, she slammed the door shut leaving her all alone in the musty and poorly lit study. “Could she not have sprung for some decent natural lighting? An extra window or two? Is the sun really that harmful to all these musty, old books?” She complained as she finally started opening the book and skimming through it. It was all history, things not even related to magic. She could see her tome sitting in the far corner wishing to just move straight to that, but not only was she tied to the chair, it seemed that the wrinkled sage had fastned the chair to the floor. There was no escape from this one it seemed. She sighed and started reading. But with her hands still being tied somewhat, she didn’t have the space to even rest her head in her hand. She had to sit upright in posture the whole time.

As she read she started growing tired, and eventually drifted off to sleep as the day slowly progressed into dusk.

Elsewhere…

A larger, gruff looking man with a strangely handsome face for his otherwise hardened appearance stood with a large axe in hand. “‘Bout damn time… I’ve always wanted to lay waste to that perfect city.” He stood on a dune looking over at the White Palace and the Oasis of Toth Ket. But he was not the only one. Though it was difficult to see, this man knew that there were others with him. Fellow bandits that he had been in conflict with suddenly working in tandem to eradicate this powerful force.

He looked behind him at the group of rough and hardened individuals that stood behind him. “On the signal, raze everything to the ground.”

***

Lyza was awoken by the sounds of screaming and chaos. The clanging of steel and the explosion of magic could be heard from outside. Yet she couldn’t see what was happening, still being tied up. Suddenly, the door to the study was kicked down by a brutish man with a homely face. He gave a quick glance around the room, stopping on the bookshelves. “Bah, all worthless junk. Burn it down too!” He called from outside, however as he scanned further, he caught glimpse of Lyza in her chair just beyond the room as she struggled to free herself. “‘Old on!” He called back outside.

He approached the heiress and got up behind her, she could only see him approaching from the side, as she wasn’t able to turn her head all the way to see him. “Maybe there is something of value ‘ere after all. We could easily sell ya’ up north… I bet you’d go for a pretty penny.” He got uncomfortably close to her, right by her ear. “But I think I should sample the good first…” He ripped the chair from it’s fastening with little effort, and spun her towards him, as he did so Lyza spat at him, hitting him in the face.

“You’d make more money with a ransom you ignorant brute!” He wiped the spit from his cheek and looked down on her with anger. “Yeah, but I’d get more pleasure in striking you down right here you little bit-gluuuuuuuh.” He let out a terrible death rattle as a spear pierced his right side of his chest. As he fell, Lyza could see the tanned skin of her maid, Una. However, she had disrobed her normal maid attire and seemed to be wearing her native garbs, as well as seeming to have picked up a spear from one of the towns guard.

“Una! You saved me, oh thank goodness you came.” Lyza was almost on the verge of tears. She had never been so scared in her life. Una said nothing as she untied Lyza and handed her tome to her. “I will take you to the city square. To leave you here alone would be no better than murder.” Lyza quieted down, only managing a meek “Oh…” She and Una ran through the city as quickly as they could, Lyza followed as closely behind as she could, and Una made sure to stay out of sight.

As they passed by, she heard a bandit speaking to another about what had happened.

“So how did the bossman know that the Sorcerer King was gonna be assasinated?” His companion replied. “You know I seen him talkin’ with a some strange girl in a black cloak. Older woman. Can’t say much else, but she definitely didn’t seem like the assassinating kind.”

“Una! The sorcerer king was assassinated! What is happening?...” Still no reply from her... Lyza was left dealing with these thoughts. What had happened? The description sounded like Bonta? Could she have been involved? Soon after, they had made it to the city limits. “My debt is now paid. There is a horse waiting for you outside. You will leave, and go alone.”

“W-What?...” Lyza had no clue what Una was speaking of. What debt? But that question was not answered, as Una quickly fled off into the night, elsewhere. Lyza tarried a moment, before hearing more commotion just behind her, deeming it best she moved onward. As she ran toward the stable, another bandit rounded the corner. “Oi! You there! Red haired girl! You saw her didn’t you? Where did she go!” The man seemed injured, his left eye bleeding profusely. Lyza stammered, unsure what to say.

“You little bitch, I know you saw her!” He approached her, readying his axe. Lyza, scared for her life, readied her tome and drew a sloppy sigil in the air, as a small ball of flames shot out, striking the man, and igniting him. He screamed and ran around for a moment before falling to the floor. Horrified, Lyza looked away, and quickly jumped on the horse that was procured for her. She didn’t know where she was going, but she knew she had to run. She took off, rode, for as long as she could, well into the dawn of the next day. She was heading toward Port Osira to return to Garth, but she was quickly stopped when she spotted the next village in the distance smoking from a similar attack from the night before. She had no other choice it seemed, and she decided her best bet was to brave the deserts and travel northward.
 
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~ Chapter 1: Warm Unwelcome ~

Lyza rode until she couldn’t ride any further. Whether it was dumb luck or divine intervention, she managed to make it to the mountain ranges of Eruna, keeping a close eye on the roads and traveling at night. Eventually it was safe to travel on the main roads again. It took her nearly a week to finally cross the Eruna border. She eventually found herself in the slums of Tofen. She had no time to grab any money or food and or water. It was truly a miracle she had made it. Exhausted and on the verge of breaking down, she rides her tired horse into the poor city.

Though she was to make a great ally this day, it wouldn’t be without certain tribulations. Eruna was once a paradise to slavers. Though King Casiel’s late mother and father did great strides in eradicating such acts, those who lack the same morals still try to engage in this nefarious profession. King Casiel heard a rumor that a group of slavers had moved southward to take advantage of the poor in Tofen, the same slavers who had just caught wind of a naive girl in desperate need of help.


------------

As Lyza rode into town, she searched around for any place that would give her a place to stay, though without any money, all the inns were not an option. She tried to tell them who she was, but after a week of traveling nonstop through the desert, her clothes were tattered and soiled, her face covered in dirt, and her hair oily and tangled. No one believed a word out of her mouth.

“Please! I swear my father can pay!” She cried as another innkeeper closed the door on her. As she moved away, an older gentleman, who seemed to be dressed as a town guard. His hairline receded, and his face unshaven. He was somewhat large for a man who lived in this town, clearly being more than well fed.

“Well then, little lady, I think I can help you out.” He called out to her. Lyza turned to face her, eyes lighting up at the prospect of any kindness in her only ever time of hardship. “Oh thank you! Please, whatever you need, I promise to pay you back when I can get a hold of my father again.”

The man smiled. “Sure, just follow me.” He started leading her down an alleyway, deeper into the slums. As they moved deeper, Lyza was beginning to question where they were going. “Um excuse me sir… Forgive me if I sound ungrateful, but… where are you taking me?”

The man didn’t answer. He simply grabbed hold of her arm, and started moving faster. She tried to wrestle free from his grasp. “Excuse me! But I do not believe I offered you to take my hand!” She was getting worried. Of course everyone in this lowlife city would be more than willing to mistreat her.

As she struggled, she was brought into a clearing in the alleyway, where a group of other people stood, each armed, and with manacles dangling from their belts. “Listen here lady, we’ll give you a place to stay and food to eat. Alls you gotta do is turn over all your rights.”

She had heard of these people before only from rumors from other merchants that did business with her family. Under most circumstances, the threat of danger would likely have kept them silent. Lyza, however, was more concerned with her dignity. “Slavers!” She shouted at the top of her lungs. The man flung her to the ground, and pulled his blade to strike at her. “Why you little bitch!” Lyza quickly pulled the tome out and sent a bolt of fire streaking towards the man. It was weak, but hit him in the face, burning the man, and leaving a dark scar on his cheek. It gave her just enough time to start running back to the street, where the others followed.
 
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Dafydd Ryder
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Dafydd's days in the slums blended together. This place was where the worst of the worst in the kingdom hung out. He always felt awful just existing in this space. Yet he knew he deserved it for what he had done to his poor, unsuspecting Erunians. However, a part of him wanted to atone, so when he wasn't keeping fit, applying his training from his military days; he spent most of his time wandering the streets of the slums, seeking out slavers to turn in -if he could.

"Ughhhh, shit, I'm hungry.." the grey-haired man grumbled, rubbing his hand over his tight stomach. It was tough keeping his physique when he was broke and in a place like this. He had been wandering the back alleys of this shithole for hours now, looking for anything untoward. Usually his days held no luck, and it seemed like today was another to add to the unlucky ones. His mind began drifting to dinner; he wondered if he should steal something, then shook his head. A lot of people down here were right gits, but many were just dealt a bad hand, and were trying their best to survive. It wouldn't sit right with him to steal from them. He'd have to buy some roast or something from one of the better stalls with what little money he had.

That was his plan as he was getting ready to head back to the crummy little place he called home when he heard a scream. It was barely audible, coming from some distant alleyway, but he thought he heard 'Slavers!' Did that.. Could it be? Really?

Grabbing his lance from where he had rested it against a brick wall he began running towards where he thought he heard the feminine scream from. His ears picked up someone shrieking in pain, then feet pounding on cobblestones, and some frantic screams and barking from -yep- from slavers! Just hearing it brought back memories. Memories he was not proud of. Memories from when he was on the other side of the poor people who were scared and screaming for their lives. This female scream he heard was just like the rest.

Steeling himself, Dafydd knew he had to help her! He rounded a bend and nearly ran face first into her. "WOAH!" The man shouted, with quick reflexes throwing him sideways, with his back to the alley, flattening out as she ran by. He got a glimpse of long red hair before glancing back at her pursuers. He probably shouldn't kill them... Didn't want to add murder to his record. "Get away from her!" he shouted, thrusting his lance out and smacking one of her pursuers in his stomach with the heavy wooden handle. Smacking him hard against the nearby wall.

"Girl, go! Get out of here!" Dafydd shouted at her.

"Alright, assholes. Time to turn in. Prison time for slaving pieces of cow shit like you," He said angrily, turning back to them, hands clasping his lance firmly, an angry stare on his face. If only he was still City Guard, then this would work much better. He remained stoic and confident, despite being heavily outnumbered. Dafydd knew they would all pile on him if he showed any weakness. He had to bluff enough to let the woman escape.
 
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A cloaked woman ran through Tofen, a scowling face hidden by a hood and staff in hand. She was running practically aimlessly, in the slums of the place no less, pausing momentarily to glance into alleys and around corners as if what she was looking for would miraculously appear. Each time she found naught, she growled to herself.

"LUKAS!" She shouted. Shouting randomly in the ghetto of an already sketchy town wasn't possibly the best option, but she was rather short on them currently.

Liandra had turned her back. She had her back turned just for a moment trying to barter for supplies and he was gone. There was a slim chance he had run off voluntarily, one that she prayed was the occurrence. However, what went on in this place wasn't foreign to her, and she feared the worst. The other children could maintain relative safety in one of the chapels dedicated to Io here, hopefully giving her enough time to find Lukas. She hoped that for once, luck would be on her side and he wouldn't be a victim of—

"Slavers!"

Liandra halted in her step, turning in the direction of the shriek. It was female, and if that girl was screaming for help, it was unlikely due to the fact that she could fight them off. It was dangerous for the cleric to go, considering she was practically useless in a fight. Still, it was the only lead, so she dashed in the direction. Eventually, she would come upon the struggle, quickly stopping before rounding the corner to the alley. A girl, presumably the one that shouted, bolted out. Inside the alley were a few men, presumably the slavers, and one facing them. A guard? He was fairly built, but that would mean little against numbers.

Liandra then looked to the girl who scurried out. Aside from her hair, she was largely unremarkable. From the looks of it, either she had been living in the lowest parts of the slums or had one hell of a bad day. However, the cleric then noticed that she had a tome. She was a mage then! If that was the case, there was a good chance the three could beat them, especially with the slavers funneled in an alley.

The cleric's staff began to glow momentarily, a holy light transferring over to the other girl in a wave of healing. It didn't look like the carrot-top had any serious injuries, but she was quite scuffed up. Besides, showing did a better job of telling that the two wouldn't have to worry about injuries.

"If you understand, then use some of that magic and help defeat them," Liandra told the mage.
 
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Castiel au Selunille and Zeljko of Durand

Mentions: People
Interacting: Slavers @Reanimator Spuds




The city of Tofen was always a reminder of Castiel's biggest failures as a King.

Insanity, bloodshed, kidnapping, and rampant crimes that no one within his city guard wanted to be responsible for. His guards would sooner relinquish their rank than have to deal with the Slums for an extended period of time, and truthfully, neither Castiel or his retainer could blame them. It was a war zone for food, water, shelter, and safety, with parents of children choosing to starve themselves so their child will have enough to eat. Slave traders, according to rumors, were roaming these streets in search of vulnerable victims, offering them necessities for seemingly no price at all, before taking them away to places unknown.

On top of that, wyverns circled these perimeters like vultures. They would wait for the perfect chance to strike and pick off anyone foolish enough to be roaming the streets when the wyverns were hunting. Some lost children and loved ones this way, others, having gone mad from the Tofen lifestyle, flung themselves at these beasts begging to end their lives.

And Castiel was their source of blame.

And their King blamed himself too.

He had placed his focus on ending the slave trade within Eruna first before putting attention to Tofen. Castiel had been foolish to believe that he would be able to end one and the other would still be functioning during the time span it took. But he didn't think catching all of the slavers would be nigh impossible. He tried putting attention on Tofen to try and multitask, but whatever he tried to do, change had been resisted to his surprise.

They had been so ingrained in their way of living that change for the better was far too frightening for them.

That's when Castiel learned he had to ease their worries. Gain their trust, then, and only then, would he be able to make the changes they so desperately needed.

He'd do everything in his power to ensure the citizens in Tofen received the care they needed.

To start, he and his retainers needed to lurk through the streets of the Slums in order to investigate the rumors of slavers within this area. Of course, they received looks; as if he and his retainers were from a completely different world. And in a way, they were.


A sudden scream caught their attention, and the two quickly rode their mounts to the source. And it would seem they were not alone.

A cleric and a soldier were also present, the traders in question and a dirty young woman with what looked to be a tome in her hands. The victim most likely. He'd have to reward the cleric and soldier for their heroism.

In truth, if she had been cleaner Castiel and Zeljko would have recognized her.

"Cease!" The young king demanded, readying his lance and a steely gaze on the slavers. "Surrender yourselves! Now!"

Zeljko's mount snarled and roared, ready for combat as her rider too readied his axe. Bow and a quiver full of arrows ready on his back just in they had runners.

 
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There! This was more the kind of help she had expected! In only a matter of moments, not only had another gruff and dirty man arrived, though this time to help her, but so did a some what dirty woman, who healed some of her injuries she had sustained on her travels. She was a cleric, and the other man was clearly an trained spearman of some sort. She looked at them both, and quickly gave a sigh of relief. "Thank you. I'll be certain you are both rewarded appropriately for your heroism." The man told her to flee, but if he was there to act as a barrier between her and the men before her, it wouldn't be an issue. As another thug ran toward Dafydd, his pursuit was quickly halted by a fireball that ignited the ground in front of him, leaving a scorch mark on the cobblestone street.

"And while I appreciate your concern, I am not completely useless. I will provide back up along with this lady here." She moved back to the cleric who was paradoxically robed in revealing black garb. However, her luck was not over yet. As she backed up, she was startled by the stern call of a young man who had experienced things that most men should never have to endure. As she turned around she recognized the face of none other than the noble King Castiel au Selunille and one of his retainers.

"C-Castiel! What is a noble like you doing in such a wretched place! Oh never mind, that will have to wait." Perhaps, foolishly, Lyza thought to taunt the band of deprived criminals. "You best run off then! The King is here now and you will certainly be better off giving up!"

The man whom she had burned the face of approached, from the alleyway. He was annoyed, and frightened at first, but upon seeing only small force that he was up against, he began to laugh. "That failure has no power in this city! He may as well have just signed his will!" The man whistled, as more thugs started spilling out from several places, totaling perhaps 12 in all. The man backed up into the crowd as his men advanced, ready to strike down the king.

Lyza quickly shrunk back into herself, not expecting the appearance of their ruler to embolden their efforts to thwart them. She looked up at Castiel, deferring to him on what they should do.
 
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Dafydd Ryder
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Dafydd stared down the group of slavers. Sure they -he- was outnumbered, and admittedly, that was a bit worrying always, he wasn't that threatened. He could tell by simply looking at them, he was far more skilled. And it wasn't just because his physique generally dwarfed most of theirs, it was because he had training. And slavers... well.. typically didn't. If a slaver had training in anything substantial, they tended to not "need" to enslave. Well, no one needed to, obviously.. but you get it.

The grey-haired man took a stumbly-step backwards, when flames suddenly ignited the cobblestones in front of him. Sure they were meant for the slaver he was squaring off against, but that didn't matter to the magically illiterate ex-city guard. "Whoa, what the!?! He-hey! Wa-watch where you.. th-throw torches!" He shouted back, his voice cracking with slight confusion. Had she throw a torch? He didn't think so... but he chose to ignore it for the moment; he could wonder about the mysterious fire later. There was more pressing issues.

As he had shouted back to the ginger girl, he had glimpsed who else had joined them. -Another female who was quite under-dressed. Now why was she here? What could she do? "L-ladies, please! Stay out of the way!.." He didn't want to sound rude, and disrespectful -Dafydd had been that enough in his life when he was younger, but two svelte girls in various states of under-dress were not what he preferred to be his backup on the battlefield.

'Castiel'?!?! That name gave the man pause, and he glanced back once more. Cursing to himself for doing so; he knew he had to keep his gaze on his opponents at all times. That was pretty mandatory in a battle; it was called being alert. So, even though he was questioning the king, of all people, being here, he focused back on the enemies before him. He wondered if Castiel would recognize him.

"H-hey! Girl, don't say that!" Dafydd called back to the ginger. He was right pissed off that slavers were once again being this brazen. Hearing the girl try to bluff them roused his anger. He wanted to catch every single one of these slaving mother fuckers. Scaring them into bolting would clash with that goal. "You heard them, and the K-King! Lay down your arms and give up!" He warned, as he gave a cursory stab of his lance towards them.

Tsuni Arietta Rosebrooke
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Meanwhile, a little blonde girl ran out from the side. "Hyyaaaa!!" The little 5 foot retainer swung up, flipped, and brought her sword down, cutting into one of the big brutish looking fellows that had scurried out of whatever hole he was hiding in. "The king says all slavers will be killed!!! O-or go to jail! S-something like that! Wh-whatever! Slavery is illegal!!! Now give up, be cut down, and free the poor people you have captured!!!"

Tsuni loudly shouted at them, trying her best to sound threatening. But in her squeaky high voice, and with her lack of knowledge, she came off far more comical than she intended. Or she would have, if her sword hadn't just thoroughly slashed into someone and wasn't dripping their blood to add a threatening effect to her words.
 
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Soon after she had arrived at the scene, so did others. Liandra turned her head to see a group of three. They were all far better equipped than the she and the other two, that much the cleric could tell. Perhaps they were nobles, or officers, or so she thought. Thus, when the fleeing mage addressed him as none other than King Castiel, the healer had to perform a short double-take.

She stared at him. So that was Castiel. Her mentor had spoken of him before. She wasn't sure if they actually knew one another or the old war cleric was just one of the many soldiers that once served in the king's army. Either way, Castiel was spoken highly of. For someone like Liandra who put her faith in a drastic few and cared very little for politics and celebrities, it boosted her impression of him quite a bit.

It also seemed like the mage was a noble of some sort as well, at least that was the impression Liandra got from how she talked. Either way, her goading of the slavers only emboldened them, even in the face of the king. More appeared, and the situation went from manageable to a little less so. Liandra took a step back.

"Tsk... Don't worry about getting hurt. I'll heal any wounds so you all can focus on fighting," Liandra told them, pausing as a piercing shriek struck her from the side. "They've made their choice. They won't relinquish their captives to detail where they are without detaining them."

The cleric looked with a scowl at the small girl with blonde hair and a very interesting battle garment. Did she really think that war cry would startle them? Perhaps deafen, but if the king and his retinue didn't scare the slavers, how could she think that would.

"Do. You. Mind." Liandra complained toward Tsuni.
 
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Castiel au Selunille and Zeljko of Durand

Mentions: People
Interacting: Everyone





Castiel's eyebrows furrowed listening to the girl covered in dirt and other mysterious substances spoke up and addressed him by name, the voice all too familiar to him. He exchanged a glance with Zeljko, who had the same look. Both men knew exactly who it was behind all that grime, but they had no idea how she'd become so filthy or what she was doing in a wretched place such as this.

Regardless, the filth wasn't the issue.

"Tch, scum." The king muttered under his breath, seeing the multiple slavers that came at their leader's command. If he had to guess, none of them were trained in combat; if they were, not trained well. Castiel took a brief second to glance at his impromptu comrades and quickly thought of a plan.

A lancer, one of whom Castiel and Zeljko recognized quite well. It wasn't everyday they had a slaver who so willingly ratted out his accomplices; and not out of cowardice. He would attack with Castiel.

A healer with little clothing. No armor. Very prone to injuries; she'll have to mount his steed or have someone keep a close eye on her to be wary of attacks. Mounting his steed was the more favorable outcome given how outnumbered they were.

Tsuni. She too would attack with Castiel. Hopefully she would answer the question of why she expected a war cry to work when she wasn't the most threatening person later.

Zeljko. He would have him rescue Lyza and perhaps have her ride his wyvern for mobility and defensive reasons.


"Tsuni, Dafydd, on me." He offered his hand to the cleric and helped her onto his horse. "Cleric, hang onto me. You know what to do."

His blue eyes went to Zeljko, "Secure. Now."

The blonde nodded subtly and prepared his axe. A single, hard brush of his finger against the wyvern in a certain pattern and the wyvern was quickly already in motion.

Zeljko steered his mount, swinging his axe at the group of slavers, cutting the arms and torsos of those within reach and using the flat end of the blade as a shield while his wyvern grabbed Lyza with its clawed foot by her shirt. With the mage in claw, Zeljko and his wyvern used scales and axe blade to defend against attacks as they retreated back to the group, where Lyza would be set down. Zeljko would then ready his bow and arrows to attack from afar

As this was happening, Castiel spoke to his comrades, "I would rather capture as many as possible, but if you must kill them, do not hold back. Your life over theirs. Move!"

With that command, Silvus, Castiel's mount charged forward. With a twirl of his weapon, the king delivered a quick and swift smack to the head of one of the slavers with the flat of his blade, effectively knocking the man out as Castiel took aim at another target.





 
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Dafydd Ryder
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Dafydd was in the process of smacking down one of the slavers who had just rushed him when he heard his name called. That caused him to glance back. The gray-haired man was not expecting that. That meant the king definitely recognized him. It gave him pause, but he was not one to stall too long in dangerous situations. He would have to contemplate it later. "Sir!" He called, before rushing back to stand on one side of the king, lifting up his lance in a defensive position.

Tsuni Arietta Rosebrooke
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Hearing her name called, with the subsequent order, the smol little blonde girl glanced over. "Hai, sir!" The smol blonde quickly rushed over, turning back to the foes, lifting up her sword and shield.

Then as he ran forward, so did both the girl and the man, in a forward assault maneuver. Tsuni deftly dodged an axe that would've cleaved her through, before spinning and cutting the man's dominant shoulder, causing him to cry out and drop his weapon. Dafydd, too, fought his own slaver. A glancing blow slid off his lance, before he swiped it under the man, knocking him clean off his feet.
 
Lyza watched as the scene unfurled, as the man named Dafydd was oblivious to her masterful arcane talent, and as the small blonde girl slashed with all her meager might against one of the ruffians, managing to get a solid hit, if only by being quick enough to strike before his guard was up. Then it was Castiel who gave lead, calling out his orders to his subjects, and respectfully leaving her without as she was far too important to be bossed around. Those who were commanded seemed to hear and respect what he had told them. Tsuni, the blonde girl once again ducked against an axe blow, the strike being far to heavy and crude to catch her blinding speed, which she then countered, mildly cutting the man's hand. Though the wound was not serious, the pain and shock of the blow forced his weapon to the ground.

And Dafydd, he-

She had stopped paying attention as her shoulders were tightly gripped by the swooping beast, and she was taken into the air letting out a loud, "Kyaaaaaaaaa!" Of both fear and disgust. Once she was dropped, she yelled at the wyvern riding lord. "W-Why I have never in all my life been so-!" Suddenly an axe came flying her direction as a man with a slack jaw cackled as it just barely nicked the side of her shoulder. She held it in pain as she growled in anger.

She raised her other hand and launched a fireball at the man who incidentally was also the man Zeljko was targeting. In conjunction, the damage dealt would be more than plenty to dispatch them.

"I did not appreciate being handled so roughly, by the way..." She retorted with a annoyed 'hmph!'

Meanwhile, the thugs advanced. A few took a more roundabout path, trying to circumvent the defenses of Tsuni and Dafydd and strike from behind, while about four of them moved forward aiming to challenge the two and their lord directly. The remaining 2 stayed with their leader. One of the front runners took a swing with their axe at the Cleric, rushing right past the two defenders
 
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They weren't giving up? The slavers were far more imbecilic than Liandra had first gauged. Her scowl intensified before the dandy boy on horseback began to bark commands, then reaching a hand out for her. He wanted to protect her. It mad sense; as long as Liandra was safe, she could keep the rest of them fighting.

The woman took his hand with mild disinterest, seating herself sideways on the horse with her left hand holding onto Castiel so she wouldn't fall. Thankfully, other than heal, she didn't have to do much. It seemed like she wouldn't even have to do that, but then the red-head got knicked, earning a click of the cleric's tongue. The silver-haired woman raised her staff, a soft illumination draping across the item before it transferred over to the mage to heal her.

"You're supposed to keep the sharp bits outside of you, in case you were wondering," The cleric commented before spotting a brute blasting past the defenders to swing directly at her.

She grimaced, raising her staff this time in an attempt to block any incoming damage. Liandra was more or less defenseless. There were clerics with ways of protecting themselves, but she was not one of them as her physique seemed wholly suited for attractiveness rather than practicality in battle.

"I am also not a War Cleric!" She stated further, subtly chiding them.
 
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The brigands who were moving from the flank began to collapse upon the position of the central group, each with their varied weapons at the ready. The first two jumped in with axes in hand, trying to come at the mounted lord, with another aiming to catch Dafydd off guard in order to break their line and allow their front team to push through more easily. He launched through and struck down against Dafydd, hard. The other aimed for Tsuni, but she was too quick on her feet.

Towards the back though, a swordsman sought to break their ranged, running back and setting his sights on the wyvern rider, though he underestimated the thickness of the scales, barely capable of bringing any harm to the beast.

In the back though, the leader was growing impatient. "Fine then! Let's see how great you really are Great Liberator!" He rushed forward and took a swing with his glaive against Tsuni, with a masterful and skillful strike.

Lyza in the back figured that this was the final moments of this battle. She knew her companion beside her wouldn't be able to counter with the man next to him, so she shifted focus and tried to focus hard. She narrowed in, and as she raised her hand up, she summoned far more power than she had previously as a large burst of flames erupted underneath the man, who screamed in pain and fell to the ground, unmoving. "D-Did I manage that?... No matter, Castiel, I think it's draw this to a close."
 
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Dafydd Ryder
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The battle was heating up. It seemed all of his impromptu allies were capable in their own right. That was reassuring. It almost felt like being back in the City Watch with a number of steel-clad allies around every corner. He could remember fending off bandits in similar situations. And frankly, it was bringing back old memories into his bones. It had been awhile since he had seen any action, so he had gotten rusty. He felt a bit guilty for feeling grateful these stupid slavers showed up today to help renew his combat prowess.

He knew some of their enemies had rushed passed him to attack the ones behind. But he was counting on their backline to defend the women. Still he overheard one complain about not getting injured. Were they okay back there? He dared not turn around and leave an opening.

War Cleric? He had heard the name before, but had never really gotten to know any. He faintly wondered what a War Cleric was like. But his thoughts were cut off as an enemy attacked him. "Urgh!" He grunted, just barely parrying the axe that came down at him. Still, he felt the impact rattle in his bones. He was rusty after all.

Dafydd stepped back with a flourish of his lance, before lunging forward aggressively. "Damn you~!" The grey-haired man shouted back, retaliating and stabbing the man clean in the gut. It had been awhile since Dafydd had felt his weapon pierce flesh, so he was momentarily stunned by what he had just done. It was a clean attack too. Probably good enough to kill his attacker.

Tsuni Arietta Rosebrooke
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Tsuni was able to deftly avoid the first axe blow. "Too slow, cur!!" The little blonde cursed, with a tuck and dodge, before giving him a few slashes in return. "That'll teach you a lesson to attack the great Tsuni Rosebrooke! Retainer to His Majesty!! Yoohhh! Uwaah!?" She wasn't prepared for the leader to suddenly rush at her. He had stood still the entire time! What was he doing!?! The idiot!

"Kyyaa!" She screamed when she felt his blow cut into her side. The young retainer fell to the ground. Her.. first.. injury..?! She felt the wetness of blood, and her outfit darkened. It was a lance after all, reaching well beyond her sword's length. She watched as blood dripped onto the hard stone ground. But just then, right in front of her eyes, the man lit up in a blaze of flames!

"H!?" She glanced back, spotting their mage. "Ahhhhhh!?!?" Tsuni's face changed from one of pain and terror, to one of relief, elation, and awe. "Oh!!! My!!! Miss, mage-big-sister!!!" Tsuni squealed out in delight, while moving to get up and rush to her. She regretted it immediately, falling back over, clutching her wounded side.

"Huh!?" Meanwhile Dafydd spotted the man bursting into flames. It was hard not to notice, what with the noisy blonde girl. And of course the orange flames roasting her attacker. What had just happened? What did that blonde girl just do!? Her reaction also made little sense, though he figured she was just delirious from the pain of her wound.
 
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Liandra flinched seeing the man ignite in flames, though save for a small grimace she maintained her reservation. It wasn't as if she felt sorry for the man, however the sight wasn't particularly comforting. It seemed like she wasn't the only one taken aback too. The mage herself appeared quite surprised too. Was she a novice? Then again, if the carrot-top was an adept, Liandra would've found her due to a large explosion rather than a retreat.

Thankfully, upon her complaint, the group reorganized and covered for her. Though the blondie took a hit to her side before the mage barbecued the lancer.

Liandra let out a sigh, a soft glow emanating from her and rising from her staff to coat the small retainer's gash.

"Focus. Just because I can heal you, it doesn't mean you should leave yourself open," The cleric chastised. Even Liandra could tell Tsuni wasn't as hardened as her companions. "Treat every attack as one that would kill you. Don't expect someone to save you."

Of course, Liandra would heal her. It just wasn't good to be overly reliant.
 
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Castiel au Selunille and Zeljko of Durand

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The battle was going beautifully for his side. Each of his allies were countering the enemy blow per blow, and while yes, that was a good thing, they weren't leaving any for questioning. They were killing more and more, while incapacitating no one. They needed at least one person, preferably the leader who would have far more information on him than his lackeys. If they could capture him, they could perhaps coax what he knows out of him.

As if on cue with his thoughts, the leader rushed forward and landed an attack on Tsuni. He grimaced and readied his lance to go for a strike.

However...

"Lyza- No!"

But it was too late and the man ignited into flames. The fire roared bright and loudly alongside the man's screams before he fell onto the ground in silence.

Damn it, there went that plan.

He supposed a lackey was better than nothing at all.

"Yes... End this as quickly as possible. Force them to surrender!"

Castiel gripped his lance and caught sight of the slaver that had tried to attack the healer backing off, trying to regroup with his comrades. This one he needed to go for or risk missing his chance.

With a tug of the reigns, Castiel's horse charged forward. The King twirled his lance, readied it, and swung the pole of his lance down at the jaw of the slaver to knock him unconscious. Castiel didn't want to risk hitting his head and accidentally killing him.

"Zeljko!" He called for his cousin.


Zeljko, meanwhile, barely paid attention to Lyza's complaints. "If you're unhappy with my rescue, I'm sure the slavers would be happy to welcome you back." He replied.

Many of the slavers were dying, and Zeljko could see that their allies had either misinterpreted the king's demands, or they were ignoring them. Regardless, this was proving to be a problem...

The King told them to capture as many as possible, not slaughter the damn group. Yes, they would be killed if they did not cooperate, but they needed to be captured first to see if they could get their cooperation!

A part of Zeljko did enjoy seeing the blood of slavers taint the ground of the slums, and he knew they rightfully deserved this swift justice.

But they had no information. And with the leader dead, they wouldn't get as much as they wanted.


The second his name was called, Zeljko quickly flew his wyvern towards the body of the unconscious slaver. The mount grabbed the back of his shirt with its teeth and plopped the trader onto her back in front of Zeljko, who would hold onto the man to ensure he stayed put.


"Will you surrender quietly, or shall my wyvern have an early dinner?" The blonde asked the remaining slavers, petting his wyvern who looked at the foes rather hungrily.


 
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