CLOSED SIGNUPS Fire Emblem: Requiem

Vayne

The Night Hunter
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#21
A great deal of doubt boiled within Dustice's chest as their lady-in-command returned his bout of spite without so much as a relevant contest. His tongue clicked towards the noblewoman, shaking his head. It was obvious that Beatrix Havenbrook could not convince him with honeyed words, as much as she may have hoped to do so. While it may have fooled the untrained ears of an average commoner, he had dealt with many conniving characters in the past, and he had come to learn that only the title of royalty could allow for such a charade without repercussion. Such trivial matters were why the mercenary did not care to meddle in the affairs of the powers that be; only by his dire situation, now, was he drawn back into their sphere of fiction.

His expression remained at a deadpan stare over the shorter girl, blinking twice in an unconvinced look as their collective trotted towards the gates of Belhurst. The winter was not something to be so lightly cast aside, and through her odd idioms, it was right to assume that Chidori was a foreigner. Dustice had dealt with the stranger question throughout his years, and there was always the same dumbfounded look on their faces. According to many, his 'exotic' features did not resemble that of the Sollans in Yveltskr, or her neighboring lands; they would assume that he had been born in Kugawa, instead. I was born in Houndsreach, he would correct them. I've never stepped foot in Kugawa. For now.

Running his index and middle finger against the harsh scar that hovered near his left eye, Dustice continued in silence, the scatterbrained conversation among their group posing no interest to the mercenary. It had been more than enough time before they crossed the threshold of the city perimeter, and associate themselves with their newest companions. "Azure," the young man had strode past their wagon driver, stroking the mane of the stallion affectionately with a light smile. Through the moment of panic that overtook the stable goers, he remained unfazed by the looming entrance of the wyvern, his smile only lasting so long before Isra ducked around his back.

"Never seen a wyvern before?" Dustice laughed, returning his attention to the horse before him that showed similar mettle. "Those fuckers are faster than you think. But, their scales make good armor."

The mercenary was comfortable with traveling on horseback; it was certainly better than his usual method of walking the distance. His attention remained affixed to their surroundings, their bearings changing from the city limits to the dirt path of the Bluestone. While it was mere brigands and similar riff raff that were rumored to prowl on the roads, Dustice had learned well to remain vigilant, even if he was confident in his own skill. Their caravan was absorbed by the ambiance of the forest around them, his gaze narrowing among the treeline in search for any hint of ambush. A cry for help suddenly broke the silence ahead of them, watching as a ragged man racked with a grave injury stumbled towards them.

"So it's true," the desperation of the escapee had confirmed their account of the highwaymen. A metallic sound rippled as Dustice drew his sword, a look of eagerness washing over his face when Beatrix rode off into the direction of their assailants. "Let's get a move on, then!" he shouted over to the remainder of their group, hopping off of his horse and sprinting just behind Chidori. His eyes scanned over the situation of the unfortunate convoy, counting the number of bandits that were pillaging the helpless merchants.

He was far from one to hesitate as the conflict arose, both of his hands tightening around the hilt as Dustice dashed into the fray of battle. His breathing was even as his sword clashed into another, meeting the defiant gaze of the bandit that crossed blades with him. "Don't worry," he spoke through grit teeth as his right elbow wheeled forward to strike his opponent across the face, dazing them. "You'll have a purpose, soon enough," the mercenary swung his sword low towards his calf, reducing the bandit to a kneel. "Feeding the worms!!" Dustice spun around the knelt bandit, sinking his blade halfway into his opponent's neck as he kicked the body aside.
 
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Orikanyo

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#22
Roland Durand

The journey went.. well.. as one might expect. In truth from the moment the bandits were mentioned his ID said "Hey theres gonna be a bandit attack down the road for you." and his ego said "Well dang thats gonna suck." super ego said "LETS BE HEROES GUYS!" and thus the three components of the human mind bickered and argued , or rather ego and super ego did as ID said something on the lines of find food and a mate, and possibly fit in time for a nap.

Roland sat atop of Ferice, happily gliding along just above the tree line. Ferice was happy to be traversing new areas, and Roland was just happy that Ferice was happy. The bickering and complaints his companions may be having were lost to him at this moment, the possibility of greatness of the horizon and filling his head with dreams.

At least, thats when he saw the merchant caravan being harassed by brigands! "Oh no!" said Roland "Protect the merchants" said Beatrice, "I told you." said the ID between mutterings of "Go back to the females."

And thus, Roland did what he would come to do best.

protecting the innocent! Or at least those in need. given the innocent of merchants typically went out the window if a good deal came along. Roland urged Ferice to swoop down upon a duo who were accosting a merchant, who was holding onto their backpack for dear life, a shield of merchandise and baubles against their deadly deadly daggers.

And so, when bidden to swoop, Ferice did so, with mcuh more force than what the word swoop would symbolize as he landed roughly upon the first bandit with immense bulk and razor sharp claws crushing the man, who was now screaming in horrible pain. "Don't worry Sir or madam-!" "OH gods above somebody help me oh god my legs!" "-I, Roland Durand-1" "AAAAAAAHHHH!!!" "-Am here to assist you!" the person's screaming underneath Ferice did not break the young knight's stride, as he kept the other bandit at bay.. Even if he needed to not do so as the sight of his compatriot being crushed was more than enough to dissuade an attack...

Opting the man to run off, as Ferice finally tightened the grip his claws had on the man's neck.

"Now have no fear! I Roland Durand! Am here!!" he shouted to the rest, if his wyvern didn't draw enough attention already.
 

Psyker Landshark

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#23
Jorin Adelas

They'd finally gotten a decent haul for a change. Some merchant's caravan with minimal guards. No casualties for their own for once. Considering they were down to nine men, this was a godsend.

Jorin gave a squealing merchant an apologetic frown as he rammed the wooden haft of his axe into the tubby man's head, knocking him out cold. Glancing around, his frown grew as he saw the sergeant and a few of the other men run their captured merchants through. Not for the first time, the thought that this was what they'd been reduced to crossed his head. It was one thing to kill willing combatants. But civilians? Before the war, none of them would have condoned this. Not even the sergeant.

Maybe...no, he'd have to appeal to the man's sense of reason. Arguing from a moral standpoint would get him nowhere, except to be made an example of. Jorin hefted his axe onto his shoulder as he glanced over at his leader.

"Sergeant...maybe we ought to go a little easier. If anyone comes across outright slaughter, the king's men are going to be so far up our arses-"

Just then, a group of armed wayfarers crossed the hill. Goddess damn their luck. Some of them even looked like nobility. With a nod from the sergeant, Jorin moved to engage, running behind a fellow axeman. As his compatriot moved to engage some noble girl with a lance, Jorin took a moment to observe, raising an eyebrow as the knightess managed to outright parry an axe blow with a lance. That was...surprising. He knew their equipment was becoming run down and worthless, but to have an axe be outright unable to break a lance's guard? He needed to back his fellow up, then.

Jorin dashed in to flank the blueblood lancer, axe raised to cleave down at her head while she was occupied with the other axeman.
 

Fyrra

Edgepeasant
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#24

Once the shock of traveling near a large reptile had worn away, and the color returned to Isra's face, he approached a smaller horse that had been saddled up for travel and petted its side, curious, but outwardly a touch nervous. Never before had the archer thought he'd be sitting atop a creature often reserved for soldiers, merchants and landowners, but here he was. No doubt the royal family would want their steed back, if the expedition yielded no results. Still, the idea of galloping across the countryside with the wind in his hair brought a grin to his face.

If it turned out he liked riding, he would probably ask to keep this horse. For now, however, the archer's awkward mounting and grasp of the reins left his arms unavailable for shooting. When he brought the girl to a trot, a surprised gasp escaped him while he brought a hand down to the horse's back for balance.

isracrop.jpg



Hours later, his initial panic had worn down, but when everyone had charged ahead at the sounds of battle, Isra was left behind not just with his own steed, but another as well. He hopped down from the saddle while the group charged ahead, if only to lead the horses up to Pascal before doing the same. Not a word was given to the injured person; merely a second set of arms to lift him into the back of the wagon before Isra moved to join the rest of the troupe.

Being late to the scene, he didn't have the luxury of finding a hill from which to soften up the brigands, but it looked like they numbered fewer than a full warband. Drawing his bow and nocking an arrow back, the boy glanced over the immediate vicinity for a target, frowning. "They're confident. Formation's not sloppy enough to be simple prowlers, though," he mused to himself, relaxing his draw when he couldn't find a suitable target near the sword-wielders.

Suddenly, an axe-warrior moved to flank Beatrix, and Isra moved just a little closer to the front line, lining his shot so that a stray arrow wouldn't fly into someone's back. In the time it took the flanking brigand to heft up his axe, an arrow was already flying straight at him.
 
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Luminosity

Thieving Griffon
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#25

Bluestone Path
Outskirts of Belhurst, Yveltskr

Interacting with: Fyrra Fyrra (Isra), Vayne Vayne (Dustice), Demon Shinobi Demon Shinobi (Roq), Orikanyo Orikanyo (Roland), Thaleko Thaleko (Chidori), Psyker Landshark Psyker Landshark (Jorin)

The two clashed again-- this time, the bandit was quick on his feet. He bolted forward, darting to her side and nearly landing a blow on her. Beatrix growled a curse under her breath, wrenching away from the swinging axe. As she turned to her opponent again, she caught sight of another bandit attempting to flank her. Great-- it was two against one. Uttering an angered snarl, she drove the tip of her lance straight through a gap in the other bandit's armor before quickly dodging the other bandit's otherwise fatal blow. This bandit looked different than the other one. Maybe it was the way that he looked at her, or the way that he held himself. Beatrix held out the tip of her blood-soaked lance out towards him, once again taking a defensive stance as she glowered at Jorin. "Call off your men. This is too much bloodshed for a caravan!"

And it was-- with their little troupe, the simple bandit raid had grown into a full-blown battle. Chidori easily cut down a man, and Dustice had butchered another of the brigands. It almost seemed like they took great enjoyment out of killing, which wasn't that suspect. Beatrix was just tired of the blood and death she had seen during her youth-- it seemed like there was only going to be more from thereon out. A great shadow of a creature flew down upon the bandits and more screams erupted as Ferice dug into another one. The bandits' numbers were thinning out more and more, especially when she turned her eyes to Roq.

Amaroq chuckled as the battle begin almost immediately. He watched his companions begin to take down the dastards without a second thought. The Laguz couldn't help but enjoy the sight, knowing he'd be taking a part in helping aid the merchants and stop the reckless brigands. And yet, he knew that their targets weren't the merchants. It was their stock. So, noticing a few of the bandits attempting to break into and/or simply steal the wagons he knew what to do. These contained the livelihood of the merchants and he wasn't about to let the bandits off so easily.

So, after briefly admiring his master's heroics, and tuning out the screams of the losing bandits, he charged towards the wagons. A few of the bandits laughed at the sight of the Laguz. "Looky here at the little doggy. Master lettin you off the leash for a bit of a walk?" One of them laughed as they began to turn to face him. Maybe it was their ugly faces, maybe it was a little pent up aggression, or maybe he'd been called a dog one too many times today, but Roq wasted no time in transforming. Roq howled as his behemoth wolf form took his once humanoid form's place.

"Pathetic," Roq growled as the men, perhaps shocked at the sheer size of their adversary, froze in place, at least for a moment, before one of them attempted to attack. His futile attempt was stopped immediately as he was swatted away by Roq's monstrous paw sending him crashing along the ground across the battle field. Another charged, an axe lifted high to begin his attack. Roq scoffed opening his mouth wide as he lunged in. It was easy to sink his teeth into the man's armored shoulder, blood staining them, as he seemed shocked at the forward attack despite the axe that likely would not have missed its mark. Fear was the enemy, even against weaklings like this. Roq kept the words of his master's mother in mind as he lifted the screaming man high into the air and jerked his neck to send him flying as well, though in a different direction. Roq continued like this, hoping to ward off any who'd try to steal the wagon's or their contents.


The bandit that stood behind her, the one she wounded, yelled as he raised his axe again. Beatrix flinched; she knew that the bandit behind her would be able to land a decent strike. But another man careened through the air, screaming as he barreled straight into the attacking brigand. The two crumpled to the floor, unmoving, and Beatrix turned to the man again. Her lance was set slightly to the side as she tried to take a less aggressive stance toward Jorin. "You know this is too much. All of your men are dying-- you can still save some if you stand down!"

 

Psyker Landshark

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#26
Jorin frowned deeply as he whirled around to block an arrow on the flat of his axe, the impact shaking his arms. All around him, his compatriots were dying. Men he’d fought and bled with for years. If he had the power to, he wouldn’t have taken this fight. But it wasn’t up to him.

“Not my men,” He called out to the noble girl, eyeing his fellow axeman with a nod. “You want to parley, take it up with the sergeant.”

“I believe it’s far too late for one,” Beatrix answered curtly. She remained light on her feet, eyeing Jorin for any sign of an attack. “If I were you, I would lay down my weapon and surrender myself before I was killed.”

Jorin and the second bandit glanced at each other, and the other bandit stepped forward, but before either could say or do anything, Jorin’s comrade found himself with a hand axe in his back, falling over with a pained scream. Jorin whirled around, furiously searching for the assailant, but it was rather obvious at first glance.

“I saw that. This unit doesn’t suffer traitors, Adelas.” The sergeant snarled, hefting a steel axe up as he advanced on the two remaining. “Now fall in line and help me deal with these bastards. The rest are useless.”

Jorin stared at the sergeant for a long moment before turning to Beatrix. “...I’ll do you one better. I’m no match for him on my own. I’ll even strike first if you’re concerned about my axe at your back.”

Beatrix faltered once the other bandit was met with an axe in his back, crumpling to the ground in a heap. Furrowing her brow over at their presumed leader, she held her lance tighter. How could a leader kill their own men? She avoided looking at the fallen bandit as she panicked for a moment. Would she have to face their leader and the other bandit at the same time?

The other bandit, Adelas, turned toward her. She blinked in surprise. A leader who would kill his men? A bandit who would turn his cloak in an instant? “V-very well,” Beatrix nodded curtly. She was still confused, but she turned toward the bandit leader. “‘I’ll follow your lead.”

Jorin set his face in a snarl as he charged, thoughts of nothing but getting some payback for a year of abuse and terrible decisions running through his head. His iron axe crashed down against the sergeant’s steel axe as the two struggled in a test of strength.

“I should have done this MONTHS ago.”
He hissed, even as the sergeant sent him stumbling back with a push, the two axemen striking and parrying each other’s blows. “How many of our own men have you killed? How many more did you get killed through your decisions?”

“Right now, I wish you’d have died in their place!” The sergeant yelled back, smashing the flat of his axe against Jorin’s chest and sending him flying back into a snowbank. With that annoyance out of the way for now, he eyed the next closest target and charged straight for Beatrix.

Beatrix watched the two fight for a moment, seeing that the sergeant had sent Jorin stumbling backwards into a rift of snow. The man’s sights laid on her, and that was when she knew she had to act. “What kind of person kills their own allies?” she asked him angrily before streaking toward him. He was skilled at his axe, and in the dim sunlight she could see that it was made of better metal than her newfound “teammate”’s. The tip of her partisan lunged toward her enemy as Beatrix attempted to strike the man’s shoulder.

The lance strike managed to graze her foe’s shoulder, drawing blood. Unfortunately, the man only grinned and practically barrelled into Beatrix, trying to use his superior mass to physically overpower her. “Have to keep the men in line. How else are you supposed to lead a pack of ruffians?” He raised his axe, trying to crash down against her lance and shatter her guard.

Her attack didn’t go as planned. Had she not been careful enough, the bandit leader would have knocked her over onto the ground. Beatrix's eyes widened momentarily, raising her lance at the last moment and parrying the deadly blade of the axe. Her body quivered, instantly noticing the ferocity of the man's blow; her right arm ached in protest, the desperate pain washing up and down the limb and causing her to stifle a groan. “You'll make people suffer no longer,” she growled at him as she bounced away a step and swept her lance towards his legs. If she was lucky, she would knock him off balance. “I'll make sure of it!”

Were this a duel, the bandit chief would have easily parried the blow aside, having seen the strike coming. But he’d forgotten about Jorin. The fighter burst out from the snowbank, roaring a battle cry as he rushed the sergeant from the side, forcing the large man to turn around to try to parry. But that moment cost him, as Beatrix’s sweep tripped the burly bastard, sending him tumbling to the ground. Jorin didn’t miss a beat at this, his axe head slamming into the man’s ribcage and cleaving it apart.

Panting for breath, he drew himself up and nodded at Beatrix, taking his axe out of the sergeant’s chest and planting it in the ground, sitting down. “Do what you want with me. I never asked for this life.”

The sergeant fell to the floor, seemingly distracted by Jorin’s return. Before Beatrix knew it, Jorin’s axe was in his ribs. The curve of the blade split the man’s flesh and bone, and she watched as he bled out onto the floor. It was a fatal and horrible blow, and she averted her gaze towards Jorin.

“If you never asked for the life of a highwayman, then it’s your time to take up a new one.” Beatrix held out her hand. He had proven himself worthy of some of her trust, for now. “You can come with us or go home. But I think we need all the extra help we can get.”
 

Orikanyo

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#27
Roland Durand

It was not fully seen what happened to the second bandit that he had been approaching, Roland himself was looking out for Roq and the scene that Beatrice was going through not to far off. However, when he looked back, he only saw Ferice eatting what was likely an arm, and a screaming man currently clutching a blood spurting hole where his arm may have been once, or perhaps he had already been wounded? Roland hadn't checked before he was just a tad bit preoccupied.

Well, since this man was likely not ready to fight anymore... Or.. Ah it seems he's stopped screaming thats good, wait, no, no, thats bad, hes actually rather dead.

Well time to move on.

Ah, theres a fellow, he seems to be fiddling with a sword. "STAY AWAY!!!" shouts the man, shakeing in his boots and his brown pants currently turned a rather nasty shade of darker brown. "Come on now, lets be civil," Roland stated before reacquainting his hands with the reins. "Let us have a duel to settle this, no reason to have any more bloodshed than is necessary."

"Necessary!/ NECESSARY!? I'LL KILL YOU!" he screamed and rushed forward, sword helm high and brought down in a furtive and desperate slash. the blade bit slightly into ferice's shoulder causing a momentary yelp of pain, before rage can flying back. "Ah! the first strike! Thankfully we're not to first blood! have at you!" Roland thrust back, slicing the man across the chest causing him to yelp and fall back a step or three.

"Your a monster!" the man barked, clothes now wet with a darker shade than before. "Monster? I dare say thats rather rude, I am a Yveltskr noble knight, it is my job, nay quest- NAY! privilege to rid the land of you filth, now! Stand and deliver!"

But he did not deliver, for the lance pierced through his lower sternum, puncturing the diaphragm and cracking deep into the spine, he dropped immediately from the severed nerves and began desperately attempting to draw air, which never came thus producing a sucking heaving sound. The second lance thrust struck the heart, a mercy, if there were any.

"Ah, three for us my brave ferice.. We shall get poultice for that wound... hey don't go licking it after eating meat it may get dirty!" Roland scolded his large wyvern, oblivious to the scene or not, he had no qualms with death, causing it or seeing it.
 

Vayne

The Night Hunter
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#28
There was no shortage of brutality in his method of execution as Dustice tore the blade from halfway through the brigand's neck, watching their hands instinctively release the sword and clamor to stem the blood that spurted from the killing blow. He planted a foot against their back, kicking his assailant to the ground as crimson pooled around their face against the dirt. Their limbs began to twitch from the fatal injury, a low guttural groan gasping for breath. The mercenary looked to the skirmish that was unfolding, watching as his acquaintances made short work of the pillagers, and steeled his resolve for the next engagement.

His face lit up with surprise as a sudden weight overtook his right foot, glaring down in disbelief as the bandit's fangs had sunken into the back of his leather boot, their eyes burning even as the blood continued to pour through their fingers. Dustice ground his teeth together, rearing his foot forward from the persistent corpse; he raised his leg high, watching as a flash of fear overcame the brigand's expression. A growl pushed through the mercenary's lips when he stomped his foot down, the outline of his boot's sole embedded into the side of their face as the neck snapped and the body ceased.

Dustice would come to discover that the raiders were nearly routed as swiftly as their dynamic entry had been. A number of ragged bodies scattered around the Bluestone, seeing that Beatrix Havenbrook had dealt with their supposed leader and seemed to parley with another. His eyes caught the frightened figure that belonged to the last of the brigands, hastily approaching the ruined wagon that they hid behind. He carried the sword forward, and with a great leap, swung the blade at their figure, only managing to catch a greater part of their wrist. They cried in pain as blood sprayed against the wheel, watching the last bandit sprint away into the forest.

While his feet wished to chase in pursuit, the swordsman dropped his shoulders and decided otherwise. "Rubbish," he sighed, his expression one with disgust as he looked upon the blood that coated his blade. With their victory, Dustice returned to the bandit that he had slain, tearing a portion of their frayed clothing and wiping the stains from his weapon. "Well. That's it, then," he spoke aloud to none in particular, sheathing his sword. He began to stroll from one corpse to the next, kneeling down to rummage through any pockets or other compartments for any stray coin.
 

Luminosity

Thieving Griffon
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#29

Bluestone Path
Outskirts of Belhurst, Yveltskr

Interacting with: Fyrra Fyrra (Isra), Vayne Vayne (Dustice), Demon Shinobi Demon Shinobi (Roq), Orikanyo Orikanyo (Roland), Thaleko Thaleko (Chidori), Psyker Landshark Psyker Landshark (Jorin)
At last, the battle was over. Blood and corpses littered the ground, and when Beatrix looked, it seemed like none of their troupe were injured. All of the damage had been done to the bandits, save for the one that had sundered himself to her mercy. Honestly, the sight disturbed her. People were so willing to kill others. These bandits probably had friends, family... a life other than being a bandit. It had to be done. She shook her mind from the disturbing thoughts and turned to the rest of her numbers. Pascal had just approached, the merchant with the wooly red beard leaning heavily on the inside of the cart as he looked at the mess that surrounded them.

"Sweet lady Lorelei," he whimpered as he stepped outside their cart. His swollen eyes rested on the dead merchants on the floor. Other merchants stood around them, their hands in their faces or clasped upon their lips. "They've... killed Gambon, and Stewart..."

"I'm sorry," Beatrix told him. "There's wasn't much we could do..."

"It's fine... at least you lot showed up. Who knows what they woulda done if no one came to help." While the merchant's words were thankful, his expression didn't match his tone of voice. His gaze was still locked on the fallen. The pools of blood they laid in started to seep into the ground, and their bodies seemed stiffer than before. Beatrix avoided looking at them for long. As she glanced away, she caught sight of Dustice rummaging through the bandit corpses in search of coin. Her pity for the dead turned into frustration, and her features contorted into anger as she took a step forward.

"M'lady, I think we should go ahead and be on our way." Pascal approached before she could say anything. "We're wastin' time just idlin' about."

Beatrix's shoulders drooped. "Good idea. I'm getting tired of looking at all of this blood and death..."

---

Campsite
Somewhere between Copperspine and Taltfallow

The sun glided above them, dipping low into the horizon as they traveled down the path. They headed north, towards Taltfallow, where they would once again stop before they headed into the Ebonwood. But for now, they stopped near a larger path and moved off to the side to make camp. Larger paths would mean that there would be less bandits to worry about, but Beatrix made sure to keep a wary eye out as they set up tents and started fires.

Beatrix herself sat down at one of the two fires they set up, moving her arm and as she tried to soothe the ache that had settled into her muscles. She had been too careless-- everyone hadn't gotten hurt, save for her. Now that no one was really looking, she rubbed it a little, wincing slightly as she touched the tender spot where her arm connected to her torso. Some of them had gone hunting for food came back with a couple of rabbits and fish, at least. The horses had also been fed and watered, and for now, all was at peace.

I hope we'll find the answers we're looking for in Whitespire. From the way that the King spoke about it, it seemed like he wasn't too sure of it, himself...

"Just keep positive. These ones need you to remain steadfast in the face of uncertainty." Leonhardt had told her. Beatrix sighed, stoking the fire as a rabbit roasted on the spit above it. Cricket sounded somewhere in the distance. Bitter cold had settled in along with the night. It was quiet and peaceful for now, yes, but Beatrix couldn't help but worry what was to come the next day.
 
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#30
Chidori Tsubasa

location: sitting at the fire in camp
interactions: Luminosity Luminosity Demon Shinobi Demon Shinobi Orikanyo Orikanyo Fyrra Fyrra

"Awaa??~" Chidori voiced, taking a look around; what remained of the battlefield was a resounding victory for her current allies. "It's over?!? Already???" Her sword arm sank in disappointment, the tip of her sharp blade just piercing the ground as she slumped. Turns out posing proudly after just one kill may not have been the best choice.. "Gahhhh..~ No fair..!" She had only managed to down one of the bandits!

"I'll never get famous that way!!" She whined, roughly messing her hair with her hands. "Ahhhh!! Chikushō!"

Chidori groaned, calming down. She promptly wiped the red dripping from her Wo Dao and sheathed the slender blade away.

~*~​

Sometime later, Chidori sat in camp, thinking about the events of that day. She was feeling rather dismal about the whole thing. She seriously hoped she had chosen the right path, but was beginning to have second thoughts. If the bandits were that weak, she might've been underestimating the scope of this adventure. 'Chikushō,' she cursed again, putting her head in her hands. What a lame fight! Those second-rate bands had no backbone! No drive, no willpower! No heart! They were pitiful, pathetic. "Useless!" She hissed. Her determination would take a hit if she continued to face such weaklings. Her enemies would have to be resolute. She would have to be resolute. She'd only stagnate, if she continued to face such banal and insipid foes.

Resolute. Fortitude. Firm. To retain these qualities, she couldn't become negligent. Not even in the most minor things. She took one displeased look at the fire, then pushed a bit away from the orange flame, letting the encroaching darkness take her. Immediately the biting chill crept into her bones. "Brhhrrrgrrrhrhr..." Chidori shivered, huddling up, hands on her arms, rubbing them some as she made her body smaller. 'Endure it. Endure it...'

Frigid temperatures hit her with a blast of particularly cold air, and it was only bound to get colder. "Come on.. damn you!.." Chidori shook her head, then scooted once more closer to the fire. The light of the flame illuminating her once more. A single visible breath of relief escaped her. 'Damn. Weakling.' She cursed herself, her face contorting in aggravation. Traveling in this country had made her neglect her training. It was already having a negative effect on her. She'd have to redouble her efforts. To combat the evils of gratuitous lenience, idleness, calmness, and placidity. Serenity only dulled her body.

Taking out a very small knife, she placed it at the top of her fingers, between her knuckles on her left hand. Then wincing, biting her lip, she gradually put a cut into her fingers. It was small, but deep enough to draw blood. Staring at the dripping cut on her fingers, Chidori solemnly murmured. "Yoi desu."
 

Jessica2477

Your neighborhood artist
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays, Private Convo Roleplays
Posting Speed
Speed of Light, Several Posts a Day, A Few Posts A Day, One Post a Day
My Usual Online Time
All day
Writing Levels
Give-No-Fucks, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
I do like both my partner and I to be Aggressive players. But if they're the one who shoots out ideas one after another, I resort to being passive. c:
Favorite Genres
I like Fantasy, Modern, Modern Fantasy, Yaoi, Yuri, and Romance. Please do not be shy in bringing up another genre. I just might be interested in it ^^

I can do incest and Mpreg as well
Genre You DON'T Like
Furries (Nekos are fine), Beastiality, Huge age difference (Ex: 97 with 21, can do stuff like 18 and 30), pedophilia, My Little Pony, not too big on fandoms but I can give it a shot.

No love triangles or multiple romantic partners to a single character please. Unless the person is a pimp or a whore/slut, then that's fine. I do make a few exceptions, but only a few. Love triangles being introduced into the RP makes me want to fuck off.

There is rarely a time where I am looking for a straight romance. BoyxGirl stuff is just so boring to me. Unless the plot is holy shit fabulous, please don't come requesting a straight romance RP. Especially if you want me to play the guy because you only play girls.

CanonxOC: No, just no. Especially if it's with your OC. As bad as love triangles.
#31


Location

Somewhere between Copperspine and Taltfallow

Interactions: All at camp



“Stupid Houndsreach! Stupid bandits! Stupid me! Stupid, stupid, stupid!”


Velita clutched the straps attached to her back tightly, keeping her shield and lance from dragging on the ground. The weight of the equipment was giving a sense of ache and heat to her muscles, exercising them so she would not lose her physical edge in battle.

She and Khirel had been traveling down the off beaten path, searching for another village to potentially hole up in but had been ambushed by mercenaries who’d been following them. Even though she and her brother had been covering their tracks, these specific dastards were more skilled than originally anticipated.

The two had been forced to flee, with Velita abandoning her shield in some shrubbery so that she could run faster.

Eventually, night had fallen and she returned to her marked tree and retrieved her shield. Unfortunately, she had no idea where her brother had gone, and this worried her tremendously.

Had Khirel been captured? Was he injured somewhere in the forest? Was he in danger? Was he safe?

So many questions she had, but no way for them to be answered until she saw her brother’s face. Dead or alive.

Velita took a deep, shaky breath.

She needed to keep herself together. She didn’t get as far as she did by crying and giving up.

Khirel was strong. He was alive. He found a way to escape; he had to have.

Velita followed the trail further until a flicker of an orange glow caught her attention off the path. A camp more than likely.

‘Khirel? Is he out here?’ She thought to herself, a glimmer of hope in her eyes.

Velita, as quietly as she could, walked towards the source of the glow. This could be her brother, but this could also be a band of mercenaries searching for her.

If it meant reuniting with her brother, then it’d be worth it. Even if the two were going to prison.



She peeked through the trees and the shrubbery, only to see that this was not Khirel, or a band of mercenaries by the looks of it. One of the people that caught her eye specifically seemed to be of Yveltskr royalty, for no noble would be able to get their hands on armor like hers.

Unless she was a noble and she had it made to resemble royalty?

Was that a Laguz with them?

Aside from him, there appeared to be others of lower class… Maybe she’d be safe? Or maybe she’d be forced to run…

Well, this was her best bet to finding Khirel, ‘less she wanted to idly roam the forest.

“Hello?” She called to them, moving through the trees to approach the camp, though kept her distance in case they were dangerous. “A moment of your time, if possible?”
 

Orikanyo

Shuten is best oni.
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays
Posting Speed
A Few Posts a Week
Writing Levels
Give-No-Fucks, Adept, Advanced, Douche, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Primarily Prefer Male, No Preferences
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Both, strong dislike for very passive types.
#32
Roland Durand


Travel was tiring, not only for those on foot but for those in the air as well, so thankfully Roland was able to let Ferice out of his harness so he can have a good nap or forage if he so wished, with a few extra treats for being such a good boy during the battle, oh yes he was, oh yes he was!!

But now was time for he himself to tend to his own needs, indeed, he would get something to eat, polish his cuirass, make certain his mail was all together and the most important part, begin writing down today's events in his so ever so handy journal. In truth he.. wasn't quite certain what to think of in regards to his compatriots. Beatrice was standoffish for a leader and the others were... less than upstanding. Save for Roq of course he was always up for just about anything.

He just hoped they would all get through this safely.. Ferice had a small scratch from the fight that would heal real quick, barely even bled. Thats what happens when you have scales... Ah bother, why not start writing now?

The man withdrew a book, pen and quill from his pouch, finding a nice flat rock he began to write about their tale thus far from his own account. he didn't truly embellish their start, he seen his fellows as churlish and brash and their leader was... Well... Storied if unpronounced in her station, clearly she didn't want to be here, or perhaps she was expecting more folk who were well bred such as he?

Likely not considering she was as cold to him as the others.

Roq however was, as well received as he could hope for in truth. heavens know he would rush to his good friend's aid if needed, but alas it is not yet.

Chidori as she called herself was.... Well.. the brashest among them, albeit she was rather... well... Attractive? Cute? She was quite ncie to look at, though it didn't take long to look at her fully considering her stature.

Justice, err.. Dustice? Was another quiet fellow... Not... to much to say on him yet...

They seemed to have picked up another, who's name is not announced.. You would think you would let people know of the new individual... Hopefully he isn't a bandit.. lest he wake up with a lighter purse.. he would need to keep an eye on his luggage it seems. The trader they have along may be a good eye for horses but he wouldn't start trusting people so readily when they've just started.. next thing they know they will be raiding people's homes demanding tribute for their cause..

He hoped this venture would go well, but he would not have his honor besmirched by the actions of another!

And he- wait...

He stopped his writing and perked up at the noise.. he wondered who it could be?

The young man stood up, dressed without armor in his fine wearing clothes and doublet he gestured towards the person.. My... She was... Quite the beauty... Very much so infact...

"Good evening to you! I am Roland Durand of Yveltskr, who might you be of fair knight of the wood?" he called towards the woman, a hand motioning ferice to stay down, at least for now..

Jessica2477 Jessica2477
 

Jessica2477

Your neighborhood artist
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays, Private Convo Roleplays
Posting Speed
Speed of Light, Several Posts a Day, A Few Posts A Day, One Post a Day
My Usual Online Time
All day
Writing Levels
Give-No-Fucks, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
I do like both my partner and I to be Aggressive players. But if they're the one who shoots out ideas one after another, I resort to being passive. c:
Favorite Genres
I like Fantasy, Modern, Modern Fantasy, Yaoi, Yuri, and Romance. Please do not be shy in bringing up another genre. I just might be interested in it ^^

I can do incest and Mpreg as well
Genre You DON'T Like
Furries (Nekos are fine), Beastiality, Huge age difference (Ex: 97 with 21, can do stuff like 18 and 30), pedophilia, My Little Pony, not too big on fandoms but I can give it a shot.

No love triangles or multiple romantic partners to a single character please. Unless the person is a pimp or a whore/slut, then that's fine. I do make a few exceptions, but only a few. Love triangles being introduced into the RP makes me want to fuck off.

There is rarely a time where I am looking for a straight romance. BoyxGirl stuff is just so boring to me. Unless the plot is holy shit fabulous, please don't come requesting a straight romance RP. Especially if you want me to play the guy because you only play girls.

CanonxOC: No, just no. Especially if it's with your OC. As bad as love triangles.
#33


Location

Somewhere between Copperspine and Taltfallow

Interactions: Orikanyo Orikanyo



Her attention immediately went towards the person that approached her, who introduced themselves as "Roland." A male name for a surprisingly feminine looking person. Were they actually male? Or a female who was given a male name? Were they even old enough to be out and about?

Though before she could linger on the thought for too long, her attention then turned to the wyvern the stranger was directing to stay calm, and honestly, Velita couldn't help but quiver in her boots. She swallowed back the lump in her throat, doing her best to keep a brave face around the dragon. She had never seen one before, and honestly, she would have preferred to stay blissfully unaware of a wyvern's presence...

That wyvern was going to be the death of her, wasn't it? Well, if it was, she hoped it would kill her immediately before eating her; at least then she wouldn't feel the pain of being ripped apart...


Wait, did the stranger not recognize her? He seemed of nobility, and surprisingly, he hadn't threatened to kill her yet. Did he know of her bounty?

If he was hunting her, surely he'd know of her name and face, right? But, wouldn't his pretentious friends have warned him of red-haired twins running around freeing the slaves?

Ugh... She wished she knew the answer.

Velita smiled sweetly in return, nodding her head a bit in acknowledgment to the name. Here was where she either ran for her life or received some sort of snobby rich talk.

"I am Velita; a pleasure to meet you Roland!" She returned, "I'd hate to take up your time, so I'll be brief. I've separated from my twin brother and I wanted to know if anyone here had seen him? I've been searching since this afternoon and I'm really worried about him."

This person had greeted her kindly; it was only fair that she ignore the inner displeasure of being around a noble and speak just as pleasantly as he had. Maybe this small person had seen Khirel in some way?
 

Psyker Landshark

PULL MY DEVIL TRIGGER
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays
Posting Speed
One Post a Day, A Few Posts a Week, One Post a Week
Writing Levels
Adept, Advanced, Adaptable
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Both
Favorite Genres
Fantasy, Sci-fi, Modern Fantasy
Genre You DON'T Like
Furry
#34
Jorin Adelas

Well, at least they hadn't killed him yet. Hell, they'd let him keep his weapons and help gather food. A few traps he set up with basic tools snared him some rabbits for dinner, and he'd seen some of the others carrying fish. And speaking of the others, this was quite the eclectic group for a noble's entourage.

An even more sheltered-seeming noble with a nasty wyvern, a few rough-looking mercenaries, and an oddly happy-go-lucky Laguz servant. At least the women weren't bad to look at. Goddess knows he hadn't seen one in quite some time.

Either way, it was mildly ridiculous none of these people knew how to cook. Sighing, he interjected, already starting to heat up the pot.

"Relax." He grunted, squatting down over the fire. "I can handle camp cook duties. Been doing it for years." Jorin sighed, constructing a small grill over one campfire to roast the fish on while starting up a pot of rabbit stew over the other campfire. The now-former bandit dug into his rucksack, pulling out a small satchel of spices that he began to season the fish with as it was grilling. "Any of you reach for the food before it's ready, you're getting served last." He said quietly as he flitted between fires to manage the cooking. "Don't bitch about the taste, either. I don't have all those spices that nobles like. Only salt, pepper, and a few local herbs I've scavenged."