Bacon

On the Wings of Dragons

It's been 2 days since a post in general. That's not a dead server. If there is absolutely no traffic after over a week, then you can start wondering that.

Persona: Black Crown

Baron grinned with the surge of power, scanning over the field. Only now did he norice the Chimeratic member launched back towards the rest of the crew, which he noted as most dangerous single combatant. But the shadows, even incapacitated as they were, still were a risk. All it would take was for a couple to get lucky despite their afflictions. Better to not give them the chance if possible.

He knew all too when the potent boost from Lackland wouldn’t last forever, so they needed to strike now while the iron was hot. The large, one-legged blacksmith looking persona screamed ‘physical damage’ to Osamu, so he decided that if he wanted to draw attention in any meaningful way, magic was the way to go.

Stepping back to get everyone into his field of view, he called upon the power he’d grown all too familiar with, screaming from his heart as he summoned Lackland; “PERSONA!”

Mafrei

A part of him had to admit, as he saw the two young women spring into action, they definitely knew how to think on their feet. Had they been just a little slower on the uptake, the whole crew likely would’ve lost their initiative in at least one of these fights. But through improvising and ramshackle teamwork, they’d already brought down shadows none of them, save maybe Noblesse, could handle alone. And even he likely would’ve been worn down by now without help.

Well, if this is what I’m working with, I better step it up to make sure I’m not getting left behind!

On the Wings of Dragons

@Nameless Hero Well, he is nobility, if in exile. There's defiantly a president in history for nobles to be given command on the grounds of being noblemen and nothing else. Not to mention he's been formally educated in warfare for the batter part of his life. Even if he isn't experienced, I could see someone going

"Oh, hey! This guy's been trained to understand the intricacies of war, but he isn't experienced enough to lead a larger unit. And he's a dragon rider so putting him in a supply unit would be a waste. I know! Let's make him a squad or team leader, so we can get him some experience and not risk too many lives doing it."

On the Wings of Dragons

While we wait, how about we talk shop before we begin? To be honest, I wasn't expecting so many people to be interested in joining the roleplay and I feel like there's going to be just a bit too many riders for a reasonably sized patrol squad. Would anyone be willing to have their character be the leader of a second squad?

@Nameless Hero

I can do it if noone else has their heart set on it.

Although, I'll admit it would be a bit odd for the youngest and probably least experienced rider on this team to be a squad/team leader, given he's in his early twenties and the next youngest person is nearly thirty. Not to mention the full elf and dwarf in the party.

On the Wings of Dragons

Caleb Demaar Evermoore II

Name: Caleb Demaar Evermoore II

Age: 22

Description: A young human man in his early twenties, slim-built but well-muscled, standing at 5’11. To the outside observer, he typically wears an ornate but expressionless mask across his face, along with some form of cloak over armor made of boiled leather. The concealing apparel hides burn scars across the better part of his body.

Under the scarring and concealing apparel is a man with symmetrical features, and short but well-kept red hair, alongside emerald-green eyes. His hair is shaved specifically along the scar from a gash along the left side of his head, so that it sits in plain view when his hood is down.

Race: Human

Nation: Avalan (Originally Gael)

Magic type: Prana

Abilities: Formal training as a tactician and strategist. Less formal, but more extensive training in stealth and subterfuge. Extensive training, both formal and practical, in fencing.

Prana affects speed moreso than power, allowing him to move in short bursts at supersonic speeds, with a reaction time to match.

Background:

Background

Born to the small kingdom of Gael, Caleb was the second-born son the king and queen of the nation, with his eldest brother and heir to the throne Louis being born two years prior. While Louis was educated in leadership and statecraft, Caleb was given a bit more freedom to choose, and took to learning warfare at an early age, studying great leaders of old, and the ones who’d checked their ambitions. Caleb and Louis cared for each other deeply, but as the years passed the brothers both took to one field, where they held a particularly fierce rivalry; swordplay.

While his elder brother took more reality to longswords and shields, Caleb found himself preferring rapiers over any other blade. Despite how close they were, Louis was always that little bit better than Caleb, not that he would’ve ever admitted it at the time.

Raised in a castle, Caleb was used to a life of luxury, although found himself increasingly worried with the actions of the rapidly-growing Empire of Kovos. Eventually, they would come knocking, and led by a member of the Crimson Wings, the kingdom of Gael would find itself under attack. They fell quickly, with the final official order given by King Louis Evermoore II being for Louis and Caleb to flee into the marshes outside the castle, and escape. Their flight from the castle wouldn’t go uncontested.

As the pair fled into the marshlands, they found themselves pursued by an Imperial dragon rider. Their escort broke off from the pair in a desperate but pointless attempt to buy time for the pair to escape. When the dragon rider caught up with the two, Louis caught on to it just a little bit faster, and pushed Caleb behind a tree moments before it happened.

Caleb watched as dragonfire immolated his brother, narrowly avoiding that same fate. However, he wouldn’t go untouched by the flames either, finding himself horribly burned, although not dead. He forced himself up despite the pain, and watched as the dragon rider landed, and mocked him. But in that moment of fear and pain, but above all, absolute fury at the death of his brother, Caleb awakened.

He didn’t know what happened next. All he remembered is that in the time it took an already falling branch to finish hitting the ground, both the dragon and the rider were dead, and he’d evidently done it judging by his drawn sword and a lack of any other individuals present. But in so doing, he damaged his body further, and he was barely able to drag himself away from the fire. Only to be met by another dragon rising up out of the mire. He stared it down as it approached, but it only needed to look at the dead rider behind him to realize that, wounded as he was, this man was no prey. Neither party wished to take the risk of the fight, and the dragon gently picked him up and flew away. Caleb suspects it initially just wanted him out of it’s territory, but it hasn’t left him yet.

When Caleb woke back up after passing out in the dragon’s claws, he found himself in Avalan, with his wounds being actively treated. While they were able to save his life, Caleb would forever be scarred by that day, both mentally and physically, and took to wearing a mask and concealing clothing to hide the scars, figuring it’d be less unpleasant for others than wearing the numerous horrible burn scars in plain view.

He’d spend the next five years in Avalan, training with fencers who’ve been swordfighting longer than his former homeland had existed as a country. Learning to hide and fight from the shadows, in preparation for the day he could return to retake his homeland.

When the Alliance was formed, Caleb packed up his things and answered the call right then and there. He doesn’t know if he’s ready for this fight, but he’s ready to bring down the bastards who killed his family and conquered his home, or die trying.

Appearance:

Appearance

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Dragon Name: Tir’verkalen (tear-VER-call-in)

Dragon Type: Brass

Description: A male, quadripeal dragon that stands at just over 9’, with an 18’ wingspan, and a powerful frame covered in dark brass scales. Its form is supported by four powerful limbs, each ending in four clawed digits.

Instead of breathing fire, he can spray what appears to be some form of adhesive sludge that violently explodes within a few seconds of becoming exposed to the air, and reacts even more violently to water.

If approached in a manner that betrays fear, Tir’verkalen has been known to react aggressively.

Appearance:

Appearance

Kingdom Hearts: Heroes of Hope

Not dead, coming out of finals for the semester.

On the Wings of Dragons (No longer recruiting for now)

If you're still taking people, this has peaked my interest.

On a sidenote, what would be your thoughts on a PC being a prince who fled Kovos' conquest of his homeland?

Ꭼꭲꭼꭱɴꭺꮮ Ꭲꮋꭱꮻɴꭼ

Just checking in to see who's still here.

Persona: Black Crown

Mild clarification: I heat riser'd the entire party at the cost of a weak almighty hit.

I worded my post poorly and it might look like I AoE'd the foes. That's on me.

Persona: Black Crown

Baron stepped off the train, but still tried to keep that air of menace as he walked onto the platform. He placed his hands behind his back, walking across the platform before turning on his heels to seemingly inspect the shadows as they worked. In truth, he was mentally debating his opening move, trying to figure out how the crew would go about dismantling these shadows. The force, as it was, was far too large to let just hang around behind them, not to mention what would happen when they found the signs of battle inside the train, or the upended crates they’d used to enter unnoticed. He glanced back to where Noblesse had made for, in time to see his silent signal. Even if it had been a good idea to leave those shadows alone, Noblesse was likely about to do something that would make that impractical.

Alright, then. Showtime.

He took a moment to look around, finding each of the others as he glanced down at his phone, as casually as anyone would check it. He sent a simple message over the group chat Seiji had made for them.

>Still too many for my tastes. I’ve got a trick to stack this deck in our favor. It’s gonna hurt a bit, so brace yourselves. Take out as many as you can before they realize what’s up. Kicking off in 10s.

Baron readied himself, the warning being as much to him as to the others. The charmed shadows would be helpful, keeping the shadows confused and fighting each other instead of the party. Or at the least, would be helpful to get the drop on the horde. Their distraction from getting into the train cars with a sense of definitive urgency would also help for that. And with those charmed shadows as an anvil, the group itself would make one hell of a hammer.

As he counted down the seconds, he found a spot where he wouldn’t be seen immediately, given how the shadows were preoccupied with their tasks, and gave the others enough time to position themselves for an alpha strike to kick off the festivities.

As he prepared to call upon Lackland once again, he heard his persona's voice, a prelude to the power it was about t unleash.

---

^{“Close your hearts to their suffering, so the unjust may face the might of the merciless!”}

CRUEL ORDER

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Prince Lackland materialized in a burst of crimson metaflame behind Osamu, as he conjured forth the power that would hopefully carry them to a swift victory. “Tear them down!” He ordered, as his persona took a clawed gauntlet and held it out, ordering the whole group forward silently. White flames washed over Baron first, then each of the others, bringing with it a short but painful burst. Baron had experimented enough to be prepared for the burning pain, brief as it was, that precluded the massive wave of power that washed over him, as the same occurred to each of the others in kind. They were faster, stronger, and tougher. He figured it’d be more than enough to make sure they could destroy the shadows before they ever realized what was happening.