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12 mos ago
Current The evil Italian has been defeated. Inshallah
12 mos ago
Summer? I barely know her
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1 yr ago
british circlejerk call that a union jack
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1 yr ago
I’ll serve crack before I serve this country
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1 yr ago
Just sell the site to someone else
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SALSA VERDE
SALSA VERDE

▅▅▅▅austin | ♏︎ | he/him | 28 | vegan

Hi, I’m Salsa Verde, arguably the best salsa and formally known as the writer, Syn. I’m a Wildlife Biologist traveling the country looking to work with the coolest: herps, mammals, birds, and invertebrates I can get my hands on. I also like plants, trees, and fungi specifically. I’ve been writing for about 13 years now and recently decided to get back into it. I enjoy anything from casual to high roleplay, 1x1, and arena. My main genres tend to be anime, SOL, and superhero but I’m really down to participate in anything. And yeah I like all that weeb shit.

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Most Recent Posts


FLASHBACK 《》 FARHAVEN-CEC [Train] 《》 Prelude - 08:00 AM 《》 @Prisk@DeadDrop@Archangel89

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Disappointed, was one word that described how Eun-Ji felt in that moment. She let out a small sigh, but overall she wasn’t completely devastated that Emilia didn’t know much about Belladonna. After all, Eun-Ji literally knew zero of the people she had encountered on the train just now and they all hailed from different divisions. Her eyes perked up to the new found salutation, ”The third division ey? This the first time I’ve encountered any division since long division in elementary school.” with a cocking of one eyebrow the thought made her smile. She raised her glass to meet the others and the classic ‘clink’ of glass echoed through the empty halls of the train. “To the third division!” She cheered before rocketing the liquid to the back of her throat and immediately pouring another glass to sip on. Impressed at Emilia’s proclivity to the liquid spirits warmed her heart, of course maybe that was just the alcohol making her body hot. Either way she poured Emilia another at her behest, “It’s also a drink you can sip if you’re into that.”

Her advice was cut short when the appearance of sprites and a shimmer of blue and white light appeared around Emilia, something out of a fairy tale if one wasn’t familiar with spirits. The liquid in Eun-Ji’s mouth had fermented for a bit before she sucked it down to clear her mouth for the amazement unfolding before her. The shimmer manifested into a bird, a songbird given the size, playful in nature having flown around Eun-Ji a few times. An audible drawn out wow was heard escaping Eun-Ji’s mouth with her English breaking into her thick native Goryeon accent. “She’s beautiful! No need to apologize. I’m not just friends with flora, I do like the company of fauna too. So what’s her name?” Eun-Ji asked taking another swig. That of course was interrupted by some self proclaimed speed god. Their title stolen by Emilia’s ability to not mince words. Eun-ji had planned to show her own spirits, but with the arrival of the new member she decided against it. “Park. Eun-Ji, pleasure you meet you. Drink?”

With that the crew began their final descent into UDF HQ.

FLASHBACK - DAY 1 《》 UDF: CETRA EAST COMMAND [Surface] 《》 06:45 AM 《》 @Prisk@Aeolian


Amanita saw the royalty in question pass over them with poise and grace, she was as grandiose as she was made out to be in that briefing. The world of royalty and hierarchy was lost on her, granted having been raised on a farm out of touch with reality until adulthood would do that to you. The closest thing she would get to that level of elegance was her research and of course her own stylized fashion. The gentle squeeze of Emilia’s persons showed they had history, it seemed as though Emilia had history with just about everyone, the troubles of being the face of UDF she guessed. Anyways, her fashion, yes that was her mark and it just so happened to be pointed out by Emilia. “Oh this old thing?” The pitch in her voice elevating and her wrist snapping with a hand swatting down, “Please, this was a charity case compared to what they stuck us with. Did they really think we would like wearing these ugly old things without letting us redesign it? As if" letting out a soft scoff, "I could touch yours up if you’d like, I just need your measurements” she hinted, framing Emilia in between a box created with both index fingers and thumbs.

It wouldn’t be Eun-Ji if she had not been interrupted by several figures, this one in particular, the man only referred to as Zephyr. Amanita didn’t hate anyone, but he was certainly rising through the ranks of her disdain. He presented too loud and abrasive to her for some one stationed in the intelligence division or lack there of. That was a bit harsh and judgmental but he did seem to have an inability to read the room as present in the briefing where he burst out in a fit of laughter that sent daggers in his direction. The audacity did leave her a bit perplexed even if Emilia was a better sport than she, knowing his commentary was nothing more than a jest. And she did in fact play it off well, even if there was an air of annoyance at first.

They traveled down the halls and split off one by one to their rooms to prep their gear for the mission, the armory wasn’t needed for her since she kept all her gear with her. Personal preference or paranoia? Who knew. But before she could make her way inside she was cut off by none other than her esteemed peer, Mrs. Belladonna. She was quick and direct, her voice, mannerisms, and pitch all hinted at a motherly tone inviting her to the world of science as if it were her first time with a warmness only someone with a child could know. It was almost too believable to be true, what with the two lackeys that served more as henchmen behind her and the certain ‘rumors’ she heard about Isolde in the news. The bow was a little much, but she appreciated the nudge to the culture regardless. Bowing in return she brushed her hair out of her face, “It is so good to finally meet your acquaintance. It felt like I was going crazy asking everyone here if they knew you. Apparently you’re harder to reach or experience than the tabloids let on. I don’t mean to sound like a stalker or a fan-girl or anything” she droned on a bit.

So the two henchmen had names and positions, neat. “Who’s guarding who?” She asked playfully sounding like an owl with all The Who’s who. Still, to think she needed a bodyguard did throw her for a loop. Her offer of guidance and advice was kind, but also played into Amanita’s hand of wanting to be underestimated so the shock was greater in the end. “Oh yes I would appreciate that. I’ve been meaning to just cut down to brass tax and talk of research and findings in regard to a cure to this ailment. From there I’m sure you can get a better feel of what my field experience has taught me” she acquiesced.

Just as fast as the two shadows appeared they disappeared in the same breath. It seemed Isolde wanted to become more intimate with Eun-Ji and needed to discuss matters of higher order in privacy away from prying eyes. To say she was forceful was an understatement, even the looping of arms surprised her. “Oh yes I would definitely ride with you in the carrier, I even brought my files with me” there was no immediate response, instead a lull in speech before she continued. “Thank you for the high praise, I’m not sure what to say really. I do think it might have been inevitable for us to meet, being the only two ResDiv Aeons only hastened our meeting. I do think a cure is in our future if we could work together.”

They arrived at her carrier to once again be met by her guard and assistant. The bondage of her arm was switched with a cupped hand instead. “Once we clear out the abominations we should have ample room to set up the portable station. I’m sure we will get a lot done, but I also want to use my brains and brawn. Can’t let these spirits go to waste.” As much as she wanted to find a cure the excitement building inside her wanted more than anything to experience the taste of real combat. No training dummy’s, no sparing with others, none of the training wheel exercises she was met with. “Of course, I’ll reply without delay. Until then I have to get ready” she left with a gentle bow, a conversation she would have to process at a later time. The terms of their meeting were less than ideal.

Once inside her personal chambers, she strapped a band housing several sharp knives around both thighs descending down to her calf. Those paired with some on her biceps, those being smaller so not to get in the way of her mobility. Almost like a belt she wrapped the sheathe of her waist blade ensuring it tight and fixed. The blade rested on her cot showing her reflection in the pristine blade. Her black hair would not do, her nickname was Amanita for a reason right? Lifting up her sleeves to expose her arms, she shook her arms a bit. Almost as if she were waking a hive of bees or ants, little fungal spirits climbed out of her honeycomb pores. They gathered in her cupped hands confirming they were ready. Her hands met her head turning the roots and color of her hair a deep red. Like a waterfall she tilted her head back and let her hands run through the rest of her hair, allowing the red to spread all the way to the ends of her hair.

Cocking her head back into place she looked at the blade with a seductive smirk, “Much better” she said grabbing the blade, spinning it around her wrist by the handle before bouncing it into her sheathe. Her last accessory was her compact SMG she slung over her shoulder. “Now, where were we? Right the helicopter”. She found herself into the corridors once more where soldiers were bustling past her in a rush. She couldn’t be assed to rush herself and took a leisurely stroll to the helicopter, picking up extras on the way like the surprisingly compact choker-like -communication device that paired well with her redesigned outfit. On her way out there was no sign of Isolde, she must have had already made her stage left exit. No matter, they would reconvene once boots were on the ground. This worked out better for her, knowing she would be able to drop with the rest of the wardogs in her unit, or should she say warwolves.

Amanita boarded the helicopter and took her seat amidst the rest of the Aeons.

DAY 1 《》 STEELWATER [Landing] 《》 10:00 AM 《》 @Prisk@Rockette@Archangel89


Announcement of the ETA had awoken her from her peaceful sleep. It would have been a mystery to anyone there how one could sleep so soundly on the heels of a mission so contingent on success with a high chance of failure. Despite that, Amanita stretched out and glared out the chopper door to see one thing.

Steelwater.

The sight was a spectacle to behold, the antithesis of the lush and vibrant greenery she was used to. The mountains and their peaks were replaced by skyscrapers and buildings devoid of color, replaced by soot and ash from the fires engulfing them in hopes to swallow them whole. It was more like the city center in the capital of Goryeo, Wansanju, but broken and disheveled. The streets were littered with the detritus of war. Lights were barely seen from the outskirts, plausibly because the power was redistributed to what was left of the city only keeping the necessities working. Perhaps Amanita was too ambitious in her pursuit to leave the safe haven that was provided to her in her eagerness to face the world, but would her ignorance truly been bliss if people still had to suffer like this?

The World Eaters Battalion had certainly deserved their name from what she saw of the carnage below, the Aeons would have their work cut out for them. Slipping off the straps and the buckle of her seat she stood up with closed eyes. Muscles in her neck loosened at the rolling of her head, her spine popped in multiple locations, next were knuckles all the way down to her fingers. A few more stretches and she was more than limber enough to go. She probably looked a fool to her other peers but she did not care. She had her own rituals for herself and had she not been the caliber of Aeon they were looking for she wouldn’t have been on that helicarrier anyways. Garuda and Leviathan both made their entrance followed by the ever personable Zephyr. Surely Isolde would have touched down and made her way into the dome. That just left her and a few others on board, she would not be last or outdone by her predecessors. She took a running start to the edge of the jump off point and launched herself out of the aircraft. Her arms were outstretched and then forced down to her sides allowing Eun-Ji to increase her terminal velocity.

She curled into a ball until the floor was to her back, she would have liked the view of the sky had it not been covered by a sea of noxious fumes and smoke. A cloud of spores would shoot out from her body underneath her serving as a counter current force to slow her down and entered orbit like a rouge space ship landing on an unknown planet. She wanted to reach out to the sky, reminiscent of when she laid in the valley of grass outside her home, the moment vanished when she was turned upright when her boots touched the ground. The scene was just as ugly as it was from the top, infected everywhere. Those that evolved beyond the initial scope of the infection, large monstrous husks in never ending droves indulging in their mindless self. Amanita glanced over at the portable station and heard the lingering voice of Isolde in her head. She was stuck between deciding to stay on the war front or help those in need in the pod. Hesitation was defeat and so she turned to the stigmas before her and drew her knives between each nook of her fingers. Dispatch and collect samples was her plan, two birds with one stone.

The first of the stigma were a bunch of tree like creatures, nothing too large or sinister, a good entry into combat for the green girl, no pun intended. She had her fair share of dendrology courses in uni so she knew that once the nutrients from the xylem and phloem were destroyed the tree would die. Either that or succumbed to disease from fungus or the like. The latter would take too long so she went with the former. Like a tenured physician she aimed each of the blades into what she interpreted would be their weak points. The blades themselves were covered in a shallow layer of spores that would ignite once they hit their target. The husks were punctured and then set ablaze, quickly dispatching them in small droves. The feeling was freeing to say the least, there was this weird cathartic release she hadn’t expected, perhaps because they weren’t human. Or maybe having been the perfect scholar trapped inside all day drained her. All she knew is she wanted more.

If they could set up a perimeter around the research station she could make her way back and help Isolde and the rest of them could rest and set up point before they delved deeper in search of Bahamut. Zephyr shouted to Garuda and the others that something felt too easy about their assault, while that may have been true, she welcomed a sudden twist of fate.

“I kind of like those odds” she said pressing her choker.



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Post Summary
Amanita finished her conversation with Emilia, granted she was swarmed by the slew of Aeons ham-fisted together into this Third Division. She instead was greeted by Belladonna and persuaded to rely on her and aid in the search for a cure to end the infection and wipe away the stigma. With some slight reservations, Amanita agrees, but not before getting ready. This including the changing of her hair color to a red to mimic that of the mushroom cap she gets her moniker from. Once they were above LZ, she proceeded to drop into the fray alongside her other Aeon peers to set up a defensive measure against the infected on the scene. she hopes to set up a perimeter so the team can set up camp and Amanita can help Isolde in the portable research station.


L O R E
  • Wansan-gu (완산구) is the country capital of Goryeo, famous for their technologically advanced infrastructure and society.
@Prisk

Damn girl they looking clean
Golden River Inn

Song Shi


A ceramic plate of antiquity was the only thing that could be seen. Not circular, but instead had round edges, four to be exact. The shape of a flower and lacquered on the edges and petal were floral designs etched with golden flakes. The plate was rather intricate and seemed quite expensive, but in reality it was just handed down to her. The plate was met with a cup that matched perfectly with the plate in design and pattern. Inside of it was a light green liquid, tea by the looks of it. The steam had all but left and there was maybe a sips worth left with a few minuscule chunks of dark green powder at the bottom. What was important was the hand attached to the cup, gentle and soft in appearance and grasp. Song Shi had been enjoying her morning tea in her chair waiting for her session to be over. Incense burners had littered the room and the distinct smell wafted through the air along with the smoke it produced.

Her internal clock trembled as it was time for her to finish what she started. Rising from her chair she turned to face her patient who was decorated head to toe with needles. The needles were placed precariously eliciting no pain nor harm despite’s several being in orifices that would scare away the average novice. Like a machine she plucked every single one of the needles out of the human pin cushion with poise and grace. The last needle awoke the man lying before her in nothing but a towel, in a euphoric groan.

“I trust everything went well then?”

“Yes Shui Shan, I feel 20 years younger. Maybe if that were the case I would surely be one of your many suitors.”

While she was used to the compliments and shallow attempts at flirting from her patients she still detested it somewhat.

“Oh that’s kind of you, but I’m sure your wife was prettier than me at my age.”

With that the man’s demeanor shifted quite immediately. He placed his clothing back on and left the approximate sum on the table. “I look forward to our next appointment.”

Song shi nodded, eyes still shut, hearing the door close before her. She spent the next few minutes cleaning her station and closing down her tools and table her patients lied on. She left her clinic and walked the streets of Xincai, feeling and sensing all kind of people in this crowded street. Laughter, anger, the sound of youth stealing produce. Even the sound of scrolls falling with shuffling and a hint of sadness following it. Her eyebrows furrowed in response. Before she could walk over she heard another already on the scene to help. Comfortable in knowing whoever dropped their items was being helped allowed her to press on to the Golden River inn.

The board inside had many a mission, sometimes even those that led her to unscrupulous people left over from the war. That was her main get, but it was very far and few between. Upon entering she would have made her normal stride to the board if it were not for the soft sounds of melodic notes touching upon her ears. This soothing falsetto tempted her away from her mission and had her walk to the front of the stage. She stood silently taking in every aspect of the somber and sorrow filled story, until it was over.

“What beauty you play despite being so full of sadness. What do you call this one?”
Done




Interacting with: Queen of Parrench@Force and Fury
Opportunity: Eskand-aligned Players - Find Ulfhild unconscious on next cycle of posting

Event: Siege of Relouse | Skirmish with the Queen Location: Cape of Redame | Secluded area off the initial shore

Arvid & Haldor Ulven vs Eleanor of Perpignan


Eleanor of Perpignan had not been a warrior as a girl. She had been good and studious, devoted to the Pentad. She had spent hours in embroidery, poetry, the harp, and prayer to the Five.

War had come, though, and so had her Gift: of the *fifth* wheel, and the little duchess had been trained to wield her powers for the safety and salvation of her people. On her fourteenth birthday, she had been fitted for her first set of armour. Engraved with her family's crest and the glories of the Gods, how it had gleamed. The great shield had stood nearly as tall as the callow young girl whose forearm it had been strapped to. The sword had been beautiful, but not to her liking. A more 'feminine' weapon, she had been told. She had traded it for a massive war hammer that she could not have hoped to wield without the Gift.

Yet, as she lay about those around her, carving a swathe through the Eskandr, a strange sort of peace came over her. That lives were lost, she could not help. She would pray for them, wretched souls that they were, should she be blessed enough to survive the day. Eleanor had just finished battering a warlock into the water with her Force magic, drowning him, when a pair of bersekers who appeared so similar that they had to be brothers approached her, shouting challenges in their uncouth tongue. The Queen turned their way and raised her mighty shield. "Turn back now," she called out in that same language, "or I will send you to your deaths."

The brothers weren’t above fighting a woman nor a child, so when what seemed to be the first notable warrior to grace the field they reacted and did not fret over what lay between their legs. The appearance of the shield and hammer did nothing to sway them from their mission and the chance at furthering their glory. Spitting whatever blood pooled in their mouthes, foreign or native, they gripped the worn handle of their axes in defiance.

“Ha, you’d be doing us a favor then lady. Now lets see what your god has to say for you.”

The shield was the first hurdle they had to clear before they could really being to corner her, but too much focus on the shield would leave the hammer to crush their skulls. The two rushed forward but then branched off hoping to go for a classic pincer technique aiming to disarm her.

Then my conscience is clear, Eleanor told herself, but she put nothing else to words. They came at her in a pincer movement, from both sides, one the more skilled, but both of their attacks were sophomoric and predictable. It spoke to their exhaustion, perhaps, having been so long on this battlefield, or else their stupidity. The queen neither knew nor cared. Pulling directly from their bodies, tearing the energy from their few manas, she stole their motion and leapt back, expelling it in a massive shove that flattened both brothers. Eleanor first went to one, raising her hammer to strike, a merciless fury flaring in her eyes. She raised her shield above the other, prepare to bring it down in a grisly decapitation. "Yield!" she bellowed, voice amplified by Force magic, "And accept the might of the Pentad!"

If the two had not been aware of their limits before, they fully well knew now. Like peat from a fen, the two felt a sudden sapping of energy as if they were trekking through the deepest recesses of a wetland. The brothers weren’t strangers to the gift since their gods decided to bless their sister with it rather than them. Yet, even without it this woman was exactly the class of warrior they so desperately sought. Arvid now pinned to the ground was faced with the full wraith and contempt the knight had for the ‘heathens’. Gritting his teeth he turned to Haldor, “Make sure to make this count” he said, throwing one axe into the air and attempting to sink the other one into any exposed armor near her foot, in an attempt to anchor or wing clip the warrior queen.

As much as he wanted to forbid his brother from such foolishness, it was too late. With what little energy left within him, Haldor hoisted himself up aiming to push past the shield to either sink his own steel into her or get her into position for the axe to fall on its intended target.

Eleanor spun away from the blow at her ankle and brought her hammer down. That was the last of the mortal world that Arvid knew before the Visitor's Table. Haldor, who'd been able to pull himself to his feet, met with better fortune, however, the Queen having focused on his brother. With a roar, he surged forward and slammed into her. His attack was easily blocked, but the one that Arvid had thrown, as his final living act, came down and struck true...

Only, Eleanor had felt it the moment that it struck. With preternatural reflexes, she pulled all of the Force from it and wrenched it from her pauldron. This, she discarded with a snarl, rolling her shoulder and grimacing. "So you have chosen death!" Drawing the heat from around her, she focused it into an arcane lance and fired this straight at Haldor.

Winner: Eleanor de Perpignan




Ulfhild Ulven vs Eleanor of Perpignan


Ulfhild had been busy or lack there of with biding her time seeking the perfect opportunity to disembark from the ships and out from under the shadow Hrothgar had been casting over her. Alas that perfection would never come. The desire to jump out and aid Kol in his push into the forest was one she was ready to commit to. Maybe this meant she would run into the old crew as they’d no doubt be alongside their King. Though, that option was thrown to the side when her eyes caught glimpse of a dazzling display of arcane reflecting off armor and piercing her brothers chest like a lance shattered in a joust. Her blood ran cold and her body limp. Despite knowing better, she couldn’t fight the urge to glance over to find Arvid. Her pupils dilated in what she could only make out to be her headless brother.

Her stomach pushed up bile and what small chunks of food were still left from this mornings feast. Hands and body both quaked in fear and anger. The time for grief and denial were to be saved for later, for now she would have to avenge her kin despite having finally been graced with the presence of the visitor. Ulfhild uncoiled the rope strap from her pouch and pulled out several tinctures. The corkscrews fell from each, taking their place between the webbings of her fingers. Inhaling several of the concoctions she stored within, the onset of the effects were quick. Her body became still and she felt and overpowering urge to let loose. She tossed the empty bottles to the side and almost robotically drew arrow after arrow from her quiver and let loose in the direction of the Queen.

Three arrows dipped in the blinding light of her arcane followed by three arrows ablaze at the tips right on the heels of the first wave of arrows. Her legs drew Ulfhild closer to site of her brothers murders.

No sooner had the second berserker's body dropped to the ground with a smoking hole through his chest, than Eleanor picked out a series of energies - both arcane and force - moving towards her. Too late, she realized that the first were intended to blind and, even as she pushed them away, she blinked furiously, stumbling back. Lashing out half-blindly with Force magic, she batted all but one out of the air. That single arrow, however, glanced off of her armour, scoring it and warping it from sheer heat. The scalding metal pressed into the Queen's side and she let out a yelp of pain. The culprit, a woman ranger, was fast headed towards her. Perhaps Eleanor might yet attack, but perhaps she should heal first. One was not reckless in combat or one was dead. The Queen called, then, upon the Gift of Oraphe and bound her wounds until she could scarce feel them. Her armour, warped and buckled in that spot, flexed outwards into an imperfect approximation of what it had been before. She turned to face her onrushing foe.

No thoughts that strayed her mind from formulating a battle plan as the tides of war progressed had could pass her brains impregnable defense. Everything she did was for an exact reason and would set her up for her next series of attacks and defense if needed. If she wasn’t going to rely on subterfuge this time she was going to press the knight with a reign of arrows unlike any other she had seen before. If Hrothgar’s shamans and mages didn’t make the sky black with their magic, Ulfhild would.

The attacks seemed to connect, but as she deduced from the cauterized hole through her brother, she was favored by the gift as well, not just that but classically trained in it. She would pay her the respects that were due, especially since she healed the damage that Ulfhild imparted. More arrows whizzed out from her bow, but with no augmentations. Instead they had little bottles attached behind the arrowhead. Had she knocked the arrows away or destroyed them, the bottles would shatter and scatter spores all around her. In the interim however, she had super heated the next line of arrows she had knocked on her bow and shot down at the Knights feet as she circled around at a distance.

Unlike Eleanor the floor was static and yielded nor dodged from a firefight. The schism between soil and sand made it a perfect opportunity to displace Eleanor’s footing. Once struck sand turned to crystal, one misstep and the earth would crack and slip. She readied more arrows. Palming less than a dozen arrows left, the rest were in her boat.

Eleanor had decided that to remain a moving target for an archer was folly. Gathering energy from waves, arrows, and other forces alike, she leapt into the sky, cleanly evading the hailstorm of projectiles and drawing from the Force that pulled her down to keep herself in the air. She landed mere feet from Ulfhild, eyes afire with magic. Her hammer swung in a horizontal arc for the ranger's head.

Fast, she was incredibly fast. Normally launching oneself in the air left you exposed, but just as quickly as she was in the air she was back to the ground, mere meters away from Ulfhild. Her massive hammer swung at her head hoping to lop it off and make that two Ulven’s with no head to accompany them in the next life. Every cell in her body had been screaming and alerted when her ears picked up the sound of the hammer whirling through the air. Ulfhild yanked her head back narrowly missing the kiss of death. Her unoccupied hand threw up a few vials from her pouch that followed the path of the hammer. Arcane magic exploded the bottles causing an eruption of fire hoping to stick to and engulf the knight, while Ulfhild drew some distance from them once more.

The flames boiled away and smoke faded, but the Queen was already bursting through them like some kind of demon from those old sagas of the Heksebog, the head of her massive war hammer glowing orange-hot. She closed the distance with inhuman speed and thrust forward with her shield, ready to bring her weapon arcing down on Ulfhild.

What were they feeding their soldiers? Ulfhild thought or tried to at least with what felt like a ferocious lion bursting through the smoke. Her arms went up in attempt at some defense, but the shield proved to be a weapon in its own right. Dazed and with little time to react she used the momentum of the shield blow to push her back to avoid the hammer. One hand pulled, taking the arrows she fired just before that missed, to curved their path back unto the back of the knight. While she flew back she created an illusion a few inches in front of her that would recover just a bit after Ulfhild actually recovered to serve as a guise so she could attack again.

The ranger recovered with almost abnormal speed. Usually, a smash like that would've broken bones and sent its victim sprawling. Instead, the Queen's Hammer tore a massive, smoking gouge out of the ground.

She overbalanced.

She overbalanced badly enough that she did not recover on time. Arrows came whistling back at her and she was not able to avoid them all. One skipped off of her shield and embedded its tip in her armour, drawing a stinging sensation and a trickle of blood. "Enough!" the Queen howled, reaching out with a fist of pure Force to grab this stubborn heathen with.

Whatever favor she gained from her gods was shining down upon her. She made easy work of her brothers and every Eskandr before them. Ulfhild, not untouched, still stood tall in the face of her enemy. Perhaps the gods would prevail over Eleanor’s. The force hand missed, but Ulfhild took the opportunity to run alongside the hand and throw out large clumps of sand she had picked up from her earlier dodge. With a snap of the fingers the sand clumps turned into a shower of small crystals as if it was hailing. Light refracted from one crystal to another until they form a type of birdcage of light around the Queen hoping to blind her better than her original entry into the fight. She shot 6 arrows all together right on top of each other to form a more concentrated and potent attack to move past these small victories. 2 arrows remained perched in her quiver.

She was fighting stupidly. This ranger was smart, quick, and slippery. Her tenacity had gotten to Eleanor, on some level, but also her humanity. This was another human being - a woman of an age as her - lovingly crafted in the hands of Aun-Oraphe, though she was as yet deaf and blind to the goddess' calling. They were here fighting, and one might very well die while, in another life, they may have been friends or peers. Another inventive attack aimed to blind her, but the Queen was growing wise to these types of tricks, by now. Drawing the light from the blinding arrows and grabbing the others with Force, she turned them on the archer and they sped at their target. Some energy, she kept behind, however, waiting for the right moment to use it.

Already an object in motion she found no force looking to stop her, this was to her disadvantage. Arrows she had directed at Eleanor had been wrought back onto her. Able to control the temperature of the arrows she extinguished the flames but was pierced in a few spots on her body, luckily nothing vital. Arrows were always a nuisance to get out. She dropped her bow and broke several of the arrows off of her leaving the meat of the arrow still inside of her. With a thunderous roar she uncharacteristically charged at the Queen attempting to propel herself off the the shield towards her brothers direction while throwing a superheated blade from her waste with a sprinkle of force.

The arrows struck true and part of Eleanor exulted while another part winced. "Why won't you retreat!?" she demanded, stalking forward. The ranger was breaking them off as she spoke. "You are beaten. I know that your gods mean much to you, but can you not see now that they are stories while the power, the purpose, and the *mercy* of the Pentad that fill me are very real!"

Ulfhild was already flying at her, though, and her blade, superheated, on its own. Feeling the deep, comforting power of Oraphe-Sept coursing through her, Eleanor breathed and called the energy from the weapon until it clattered to the ground at her feet. She placed her boot on it and, when the Eskandr had nearly reached her, pivoted deftly instead of blocking with her shield. This is why you shouldn't fight in close, ranger. Able to pick her shot, she slammed the semi-sharpened butt of her hammer into the woman's abdomen with extreme force and could feel things inside give way. The Eskandr crumpled to the ground and Eleanor loomed over her, hammer ready to strike if need be. "I will not judge you if you yield and nobody will know. You do not need to throw your life away. If your Gods demand it, then they are unjust." Her voice began forceful enough, but the last part was nearly a plea.

Like a tranquilized bear, the more wounds she sustained the less her alchemical mixtures could fend off the damage. Her gods weren’t merely a story, else wise they would not have the gift on their ‘heathen’ side. Perhaps Ulfhild was not meant to fell the Queen by her own sword despite not even realizing she was the queen. The connection of the hammer to her body shook her with a debilitating shockwave that crashed harder than any of the ones she rode in on. Her body felt like it had been stabbed with static electricity and she could see her bones rattling. She was right, close quarters combat was left to better warriors, she had just wanted to retriever her brothers axes as a way to attempt her own final blow, but her gods luck ran out.

Blood splattered across the ground. “I can’t retreat, you killed my brothers” she gurgled with another retching of blood exiting her mouth. An eye full of bitterness peaked out from behind her sopping wet hair, propping herself up on an elbow. “The gods will know…and I will know. Is your god never unjust?”

Eleanor took a step back, then, expression shifting. Her brothers. No wonder some ranger came at me like a mountain lion. "Then I grieve for their loss, truly, but know that I gave them the same opportunity as I now give you. They made their choice. They... died bravely, I suppose you would think." She shook her head, pained, the rain pelting off of her armour, wisps of steam rising around her and a light of the Arcane glowing dimly at her back as if in aura. "Why is it that you Eskandr cannot live in peace!?" She demanded. "Why do you invade our lands and kill our people? Why do you not allow the light of the Pentad into you lives?" she pleaded. "I do not understand it. Their ways are mysterious, truly, but they are never unjust. I believe that with all of my heart and soul."

What solace she was offered she had begrudgingly taken. It was a peace to her and her gods knowing her brothers died with honor. It wasn’t that Ulfhild wanted to die, she still had felt she had much left to do in this world, but if she were to meet her fate right now at least it was to some indomitable soul such as this. The touch of precipitation almost felt as if her gods or that of Eleanor’s faith was weeping in the face of this decision. “We do live in peace, but we cannot know peace with your kind until the debts are settled and you treat us more than just animals.” Ulfhild would be lying if she were to defend the merciless killing of civilians, but the chance of religious conversion and amnesty could be a possibility, just not in her lifetime. “That same light will only lead to darkness around everything I’ve known. I would no longer be accepted by either country, you know that well. Just show me your sympathies by killing me. One less heathen blessed with the gift.”

"So be it then, unnamed warrior. Would that we had met not as enemies." Had Eleanor not shown mercy? Had she not treated this one as more than an 'animal'? She did not know how deep the cultural wounds lay. In any case, the two of them had drifted some ways from the battle, fighting as they had on the slopes that became cliffs a short way to the south. "Know that the one who bested you this day was Eleanor de Perpignan, Queen of the Parrench. May you go to your gods well." With that, she swung her mighty weapon and, after a moment of blazing pain, the Eskandr knew only darkness.

For a moment, the Queen stood there in the rain, her armour battered and dented, her hair singed, and her cloak drenched and dirtied. It was all so senseless, war. All so brutal. The ranger slept before her. Eleanor had delivered only a knockout blow, not possessed of the heart to finish her off. Perhaps she might accept it, in time. Even if the woman did not, the Queen could not bear to strip a single family of three sons and daughters in the span of some fifteen minutes. She pressed her eyelids shut for a moment and breathed. Then, knowing her duty, she opened them and walked away.

Winner: Eleanor de Perpignan





<Snipped quote by Prisk>

Some days I think about my old username too . Even to the point where I think about going back to good ole, reliable Altered Tundra (without the space because the Guild's coding around usernames is weird). But at the same time, I feel like I've become fully comfortable in my new identity.

But thank you for all the kind things you said! I go through my own days where I doubt that I hold a candle to some of the writers I write with. Or maybe my language isn't as good as some others, but it's nice to hear it every once in a while. :)


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