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Epic of Beginnings - Dawns Cradle

Lissa

Lissa groaned. Well, she couldn’t have expected a villager, even if she knew some magic, to have good battle sense. It still didn’t help much when you’re being chased by a giant camouflaged beast, though. The Raam continued to ride the stretcher as it zipped along. Normally, she would have been impressed, perhaps even intimidated at the speed of it all, but when the angry chameleon was somehow keeping pace, it was easy enough to lean away from the ‘scary fast’ side of the spectrum to ‘not bloody fast enough.’

She didn’t think the beast would be too content to just continue its wild chase, either, so she slowly began to move and position herself towards the back of the stretcher, carefully so that she wouldn’t tumble off of fall onto Nylah’s injured patient. It was important to keep herself upwind of the moth dust the girl was putting out, too; she had never been too familiar with the Mothraki’s biological traits aside from their similarity with their smaller cousins, but she knew that dust wasn’t good for most people. The Raam were different, but she wasn’t going to put her own race’s biological resilience to the test for the moment.

Her decision to move backwards was prescient. The creature was growing restless, but now in position, Lissa had enough time to attack directly from drawing, as she slashed out with her sword to meet the tongue that lashed out towards her charge. With some luck, she’d cut its nasty tongue right off and Nylah wouldn’t become lizard food today.

Prophetiae Adventum: Envoys of the Pantheon

Kyra Pfalz-Karstadt,

most definitely not Lutatia Eichenwald von Brudel

---

There was a certain irony, Lutatia thought, that it was likely her fellow envoys had spent weeks, if not months to gain their bearings and make the journey to Coris. In the meantime, her lifestyle had hardly changed from the time of the Before, and the vibrant merchant capital remained her home in the intervening months. In fact, that was probably truer now than in her previous life.

If she had been more conceited, she would have entertained the notion that it was because the other envoys would naturally congregate around the Envoy of Agamemnon that everybody would gravitate to this city. Clearly a silly notion, but it was still an amusing coincidence that she wouldn’t complain about.

The Brudelian princess, in her long-held disguise as Kyra, had not been sitting idle, however. Dying and turning into an envoy was complicated by her particular manner of dying, unlike the others. Being the target of an assassination yet again meant there had been many, many loose ends to tie up, lest they interfere with her goals as an envoy. The obvious and easy solution had been to dispose of her current persona, since it was likely compromised, although given the natures of the trade she couldn’t be completely sure whether or not the assassins were from Brudel or from a particularly vindictive merchant rival. Had she survived, she would have done just that. But she did not, and there were too many advantages to the cause to not remain as Kyra, martial merchant advisor extraordinaire.

She had burned a lot of political and monetary capital in Coris in ensuring the remaining integrity of her disguise. The intrigue of a rich, multi-ethnic mercantile republic was no less treacherous than that of the Brudelian court, and there were some very interesting ways to find solutions to problems there, even as the threat of northern aggression loomed ever-present.

Even then, she still wasn’t sure that she wouldn’t be ambushed once more in the future, this time with far greater consequences.

Such was the price of a second envoy of Agamemnon.

That state of affairs had taken some weeks to sort out, but it was worth it. It was a shame that she had to leave her mostly cushy position at the North Bay Company, but the departure was amicable and even understandable when she turned back up at the merchant house looking bloodied and half dead. There were connections there that she and her soon-to-be fellow envoys could lean on in the future.

That left her a couple precious, unmolested months with which she could enjoy her home in peace. That home, as it happened, was one of the few things together with its contents that she hadn’t traded away for favors or hard currency for her mission. She was still committed to her host’s dying wish of a comfortable retirement, after all. It also made a very good place to catch up on training for the journey ahead, as well as on the stacks of neglected tomes that she hadn’t found the time for during her tenure with the North Bay Company.

Aside from her regular excursions with Lede to keep up her flying hours –she held herself and her partner to a strict training regime, after all-- she had kept up that routine until today. Earlier in the morning, she had gotten a feeling that she should probably make her way to a certain tavern by the docks soon. She had time enough, though, to enjoy the city for a while longer, as she strolled the city square. It was only marred by the rantings and ravings of a hoarse foreign cleric.

It was a better sermon than from one of the city’s usual suspects. She even found herself agreeing with the entirety of it, but that wasn’t surprising, considering her own views. She had always resonated well with Anhur and his faith, after all. And he was right. Latis, and by virtue of association, Coris, remained in a very precarious geopolitical spot. As long as the status quo remained, there was no doubt that the Twin Kingdoms would eventually fall. Although it had a body of water between it and Nuniel, it was not her homeland either, equipped with the finest air force on Edanica and ringed by impenetrable mountain ranges as it was.

Lutatia continued with her errands, leaving the voice behind. Nonetheless, she had a feeling that she would be meeting its owner before the end of the day.

---

The Red Snapper was truly an unremarkable place. She was not familiar with the particular establishment, but there were dozens like it along the length of the city waterfront. They were all grimy, with some variety of sun-bleached, frequented by rough, but mostly honest sailors, with the occasional handful of scoundrels in between. This particular one felt trawler-themed, though the oversized stuffed red snapper above the bar proper made her wonder if it was a true red snapper or another species of fish covered in red lies.

The establishment seemed to do good business, with its clientele a mix of fishermen and wealthier merchant sailors, with the occasional mercenary and soldier types here and there. Lutatia stood out somewhat, if only by the quality of her clothes; she had dressed simply, with a pair of durable pants, and a loose white button shirt. Her sword remained at her side, though she had foregone the cloak—it was too conspicuous. There was more than the usual to be wary about here, after all.

It wasn’t quite so busy that she couldn’t slip into a seat at the bar, next to a dragonborn that did not belong here at all. Ignoring him for the moment, she caught the barkeep’s eye and slid a small silver coin down across the rough wooden surface. “Small beer and a bit of bread,” she tapped, glancing in the corner of her eye the armored foreigner at her side. She remained silent until her drink and a chunk of rye bread was in front of her before letting slip. “From Anhur, are you? Nice speech earlier, better than what I hear most days in that square.”

Epic of Beginnings - Dawns Cradle

Lissa

Sometimes, discretion really was the better part of valor.

Even more so, when your temporary partner makes a fatal mistake, like provoking an apex predator with a bit of pain and a light show. Lissa thought that she was generally a chill person, but at the moment, she couldn’t help but to screech at the moth girl’s instinctual reaction.

“Gaaah…! Nylah! Stop provoking it!”

Of course, it was far too late. Something –whatever is was, she couldn’t quite see it properly—barreled out of the forest, obviously provoked by the magic spells and began to make a beeline for the fleeing girls. Lissa didn’t spend much time goggling at whatever was going after them, but between the camouflage and the glimpse of the lizard-like being as the landscape briefly transitioned from forest to field, she knew it was nothing good.

She was going to have some words exchanged with the girl once they made it back to the village. For now though, she held on for dear life onto the stretcher as Nylah accelerated the thing into light speed back to the village. She just hoped that it wouldn’t follow them all the way back to the place and lay waste to it.

Prophetiae Adventum: Envoys of the Pantheon

A second Envoy?

official portrait of Princess

Lutatia Eichenwald von Brudel

or, Kyra Pfalz-Karstadt,
Envoy of Agamemnon.

Falconknight | Hybrid

Lawful Neutral,
Aasimar,
25.

---

Kyra stands at 5’ 6”, or 167cm, with flowing platinum hair that reaches down to her upper waist. Despite her figure being on the smaller side, she has a commanding presence, with alert, piercing purple eyes and a confident way of carrying herself that belies her scholarly and cloistered origin. Contrary to her portrait, she eschews most finery, preferring to dress in simple, but quality cloth, both in the streets and even into battle.

Skills

• Scholarly Monasticism
  With much of her early life spent secluded away among the religious and learned, and later augmented by tutors on the royal payroll, she received a wide array of education topics ranging from scripture and the arcane, to economics, statesmanship and diplomacy. Although some topics bored her more than others, she always had a scholarly inclination, and if not training, much of her free time was spent self-educating herself by lamplight among scrolls of her interest.
• Mount and Blade
  For all the books in the abbey, Kyra never shied away from the sword. At her own request, and courtesy of the small order of Pegasus Knights that guarded the young royal at her monastery in the mountains, she received training that would befit one of a member of her own veteran guard. She never quite took to the lance, though she has a basic competency in it. Where she excels is in the sky with her Pegasus, and with a longsword aboard her mighty steed, or even dismounted.
• Minor Magical Markswoman
  A skill picked up later in life, Kyra can shoot a gun, and reload it quickly enough, though her competence ends at basic marksmanship. Her magic, too, is at a middling level, but her knowledge specializes in enchantments and augmentations of her weapons and body in battle. Why spend the time to learn how to aim properly, when a magically enhanced bullet can blast away a something with a small explosion from the sky?

Flaws

• To fool oneself
  Kyra claims and thinks she that she wants a quiet, comfortable, hassle-free life, away from trouble and living the life of a true fairytale princess. She is, however, not that person. Although she desires to return to her cloistered past, and despite all her actions professing otherwise, within her heart of hearts, she would have never accepted living out her days there again. For all the diplomacy and peace that she avows by, she’s a battle maniac that can’t get enough of the thrill of combat, even if it is not her first choice of action. Yet, it reflects in a fight; though she has a perfectly serviceable personal doctrine in sitting far away in the air firing away with a boomstick, in the end it’s more of an opener for her to fly closer to hit something with her sword.
• Inflexible
  From a surprisingly young age, Kyra has had a well-founded sense of self, and accompanyingly, a well-formed, mostly well-informed world-view. This lends her a certain degree of confidence, one that she fully trusts in. While it doesn’t quite border on arrogance, it does reflect on an astounding degree of stubbornness on her part— to the point that it can be become impractical.
• Therein the Crown lies madness
  Others would celebrate her closeness to divinity, in both upbringing and birth. Although Kyra is perfectly fine with things holy, she sees her own divine blood as a shackle to an unwelcome crown, and unwanted hassle. She fully believes in her own superiority to rule, but yet nonetheless wishes to be nowhere close to the levers of power. Yet paradoxically, if there is nobody better to fill the role, then it remains a grudging responsibility for her to shoulder, lest she lose her selfish desire of a peaceful life. Nonetheless, she does all in her power to avoid power—a madness hardly helped by being assassinated for.

Class

Hybrid Falconknight

Many Pegasus Knights specialize on the variety of forces of cold steel in the falconknights, or the punishingly versatile mobile mage that is colloquially dubbed the dark flier. Yet some others combine the two arts into one. Kyra is one of those latter riders, with a bit of her own added flair. Dismissing bringing the lance into battle in favor of a carefully honed swordarm, and eschewing the wide repertoire of spells available to traditional mages for the honed expertise on a few, she brings her own unique take on the matter—channeling through her sword and gun, like a spellsword on wings.

Her range of spells are simple, but refined to her martial skillset. Reinforcement abilities to help her body weather a strike, stimulate her observation and response time, or pull some hard Gs in a combat maneuver; magic-backed hits of her sword, enhanced shots of her gun that punch above its caliber class, and even a simple illusion spell onto a table to project her bird’s eye view for pre-battle planning are also part of her main magical repertoire.

Gear

• Custom Longsword
  A simply designed, but quality sword custom built to Kyra’s purposes. Plainly decorated save for simple design elements and the accommodating inscriptions for reinforcing enchantments and to channel elemental spells through.
• Second-hand Magi-lock Rifle
  A lost Nuniel rifle that exchanged through many hands before ending up in Kyra’s. Like her sword, it is well taken care of, and retro-fitted in a way for her to channel spells through— particularly ones that make explosions and fire.
• Trusted Cloak
  A thick, quality burgundy cloak that ends at just above the ankles. If one looks closely, it almost looks as if a family crest was meticulously removed in the past. One of the few possessions that remain from her days in Brudel.
• Royal Pendant
  A carved orange gemstone with that is kept around Kyra’s neck under clothes at all times. The royal seal etched into the stone is the only physical proof of her bloodline. She stores mana in it for reserves.
• Lede
  Kyra’s trusted Pegasus since her days at the monastery. Seems to know more than she lets on—especially after her partner’s possession.

Background

Born the result of a queen’s night of indiscretion with a courtier, as an illegitimate child, Lutatia lived an early life secreted away in a remote mountain monastery. For much of her childhood, she was an unremarkable, if somewhat precocious student among the monks and nuns, a girl with a polite, but forceful personality that indulged herself in books and scrolls in the confines of gardens and cloister benches.

For years, she was just another noble girl at the convent, though she always did have an inkling of her true origins, whispered among rumors upon rumors of the clergy of a girl with divine blood. Despite its remote location, news did filter through to the monastery, and when she had barely seen eleven summers, she learned that the heir to Brudel, the crown princess, had died. Shortly after, a small wing of the Pegasus Knights of the Royal Guard made the place their home. It was then that she learned the truth of her origin.

All too aware of the game of nobles, the treachery of the court, and the vulnerability of her own position, she requested the Knights of her new guard take her under their tutelage. From then on, martial training became part of her daily studies. Long soiled on the concept of the throne from the histories and tragedies of the past, she reluctantly threw herself into preparing for what could easily come to pass. If she wanted to survive and navigate the rest of her life as her own person, then she couldn’t sit idle and pretty as the princesses of times past.

Indeed, at fifteen, she finally had to say her goodbyes to the convent, but she left as a fully-fledged Pegasus knight in her own right. Brought to the capital, in an elaborate ceremony, Lutatia was legitimized as a princess and heir presumptive to the empire of Brudel, a title and position that she came to accept with great reluctance. Living on a peaceful mountain retreat had suited her just fine, after all.

She was introduced to court life. It was everything that she expected. Yet, she took to it as her responsibility to the empire in absence of a better person.

It quickly became obvious that the sitting empress was not long for this world. Like vultures circling the dying, the high nobles of the court plotted, with a prominent duke maneuvering to become Lutatia’s regent upon her succession as his puppet. Soon after, a second camp scrounged up another underage royal candidate in opposition.

Amidst all the chaos, the princess discovered an unrelated conspiracy to defraud the royal treasury—a problem that she took it upon herself to personally correct, maneuvering and personally raiding the conspirators with her knights to recover the stolen gold.

She was not the meek sheltered princess that many had expected. No- to the other plotters, it became obvious that instead of being a piece on the board to be controlled, despite her own wishes, she was in fact another player in the game for power— a threat.

An assassination attempt logically followed. Ambushed in the air during a mountain excursion by 'rogue' knights, the princess was nearly killed, bloodied and escaping death by a hair’s width. With battle lines in the court seemingly being drawn in the sand, and her continued existence seemingly the catalyst to set it all off, she faked her own demise in the ambush. Taking the name of a missing heir of a merchant house, she set off on her own as Kyra Pfalz-Karstadt in the Twin Kingdoms, making a new life as an advisor and martial troubleshooter for a trading company there. She would get her peaceful and idyllic life back eventually.

Time passed. The Brudelian queen died; long live the queen. She picked up new skills, and new weapons. The company grew, as did its challenges, but so did her own wealth. Then… her past finally caught up with her, and she became subject yet again to another attempt on her life.

This time, there was no perfect escape. A good fight she gave, but against a numerically superior foe, there was no salvation.

Dying in forest amidst a burning caravan was never the way she had expected her story to end.

It was somewhat ironic, but equally fitting nonetheless that an Envoy of Agamemnon would appear in front of her before her dying breath. Despite her wishes as a host, it seemed she would still become an Envoy of Agamemnon no matter what she did.

With a newfound purpose, the being that was now the princess tied up her loose ends with the company and made her leave across the strait to Latis. Like all past endeavors of its host, she would tackle the Prophecy head on.

Perhaps, then, she would get her retirement in splendid isolation— after all, if an empty being, compatible in all respects but one, received the memories and personality of its host, are they not in the end but the same?

?????

A special secret for the future?

Prophetiae Adventum: Envoys of the Pantheon

Naturally, I went for a Fire Emblem class. As closely as one could fit, anyway.

Edited in a class description since I forgot that yesterday.

A second Envoy?

official portrait of Princess

Lutatia Eichenwald von Brudel

or, Kyra Pfalz-Karstadt,
Envoy of Agamemnon.

Falconknight | Hybrid

Lawful Neutral,
Aasimar,
25.

---

Kyra stands at 5’ 6”, or 167cm, with flowing platinum hair that reaches down to her upper waist. Despite her figure being on the smaller side, she has a commanding presence, with alert, piercing purple eyes and a confident way of carrying herself that belies her scholarly and cloistered origin. Contrary to her portrait, she eschews most finery, preferring to dress in simple, but quality cloth, both in the streets and even into battle.

Skills

• Scholarly Monasticism
  With much of her early life spent secluded away among the religious and learned, and later augmented by tutors on the royal payroll, she received a wide array of education topics ranging from scripture and the arcane, to economics, statesmanship and diplomacy. Although some topics bored her more than others, she always had a scholarly inclination, and if not training, much of her free time was spent self-educating herself by lamplight among scrolls of her interest.
• Mount and Blade
  For all the books in the abbey, Kyra never shied away from the sword. At her own request, and courtesy of the small order of Pegasus Knights that guarded the young royal at her monastery in the mountains, she received training that would befit one of a member of her own veteran guard. She never quite took to the lance, though she has a basic competency in it. Where she excels is in the sky with her Pegasus, and with a longsword aboard her mighty steed, or even dismounted.
• Minor Magical Markswoman
  A skill picked up later in life, Kyra can shoot a gun, and reload it quickly enough, though her competence ends at basic marksmanship. Her magic, too, is at a middling level, but her knowledge specializes in enchantments and augmentations of her weapons and body in battle. Why spend the time to learn how to aim properly, when a magically enhanced bullet can blast away a something with a small explosion from the sky?

Flaws

• To fool oneself
  Kyra claims and thinks she that she wants a quiet, comfortable, hassle-free life, away from trouble and living the life of a true fairytale princess. She is, however, not that person. Although she desires to return to her cloistered past, and despite all her actions professing otherwise, within her heart of hearts, she would have never accepted living out her days there again. For all the diplomacy and peace that she avows by, she’s a battle maniac that can’t get enough of the thrill of combat, even if it is not her first choice of action. Yet, it reflects in a fight; though she has a perfectly serviceable personal doctrine in sitting far away in the air firing away with a boomstick, in the end it’s more of an opener for her to fly closer to hit something with her sword.
• Inflexible
  From a surprisingly young age, Kyra has had a well-founded sense of self, and accompanyingly, a well-formed, mostly well-informed world-view. This lends her a certain degree of confidence, one that she fully trusts in. While it doesn’t quite border on arrogance, it does reflect on an astounding degree of stubbornness on her part— to the point that it can be become impractical.
• Therein the Crown lies madness
  Others would celebrate her closeness to divinity, in both upbringing and birth. Although Kyra is perfectly fine with things holy, she sees her own divine blood as a shackle to an unwelcome crown, and unwanted hassle. She fully believes in her own superiority to rule, but yet nonetheless wishes to be nowhere close to the levers of power. Yet paradoxically, if there is nobody better to fill the role, then it remains a grudging responsibility for her to shoulder, lest she lose her selfish desire of a peaceful life. Nonetheless, she does all in her power to avoid power—a madness hardly helped by being assassinated for.

Class

Hybrid Falconknight

Many Pegasus Knights specialize on the variety of forces of cold steel in the falconknights, or the punishingly versatile mobile mage that is colloquially dubbed the dark flier. Yet some others combine the two arts into one. Kyra is one of those latter riders, with a bit of her own added flair. Dismissing bringing the lance into battle in favor of a carefully honed swordarm, and eschewing the wide repertoire of spells available to traditional mages for the honed expertise on a few, she brings her own unique take on the matter—channeling through her sword and gun, like a spellsword on wings.

Her range of spells are simple, but refined to her martial skillset. Reinforcement abilities to help her body weather a strike, stimulate her observation and response time, or pull some hard Gs in a combat maneuver; magic-backed hits of her sword, enhanced shots of her gun that punch above its caliber class, and even a simple illusion spell onto a table to project her bird’s eye view for pre-battle planning are also part of her main magical repertoire.

Gear

• Custom Longsword
  A simply designed, but quality sword custom built to Kyra’s purposes. Plainly decorated save for simple design elements and the accommodating inscriptions for reinforcing enchantments and to channel elemental spells through.
• Second-hand Magi-lock Rifle
  A lost Nuniel rifle that exchanged through many hands before ending up in Kyra’s. Like her sword, it is well taken care of, and retro-fitted in a way for her to channel spells through— particularly ones that make explosions and fire.
• Trusted Cloak
  A thick, quality burgundy cloak that ends at just above the ankles. If one looks closely, it almost looks as if a family crest was meticulously removed in the past. One of the few possessions that remain from her days in Brudel.
• Royal Pendant
  A carved orange gemstone with that is kept around Kyra’s neck under clothes at all times. The royal seal etched into the stone is the only physical proof of her bloodline. She stores mana in it for reserves.
• Lede
  Kyra’s trusted Pegasus since her days at the monastery. Seems to know more than she lets on—especially after her partner’s possession.

Background

Born the result of a queen’s night of indiscretion with a courtier, as an illegitimate child, Lutatia lived an early life secreted away in a remote mountain monastery. For much of her childhood, she was an unremarkable, if somewhat precocious student among the monks and nuns, a girl with a polite, but forceful personality that indulged herself in books and scrolls in the confines of gardens and cloister benches.

For years, she was just another noble girl at the convent, though she always did have an inkling of her true origins, whispered among rumors upon rumors of the clergy of a girl with divine blood. Despite its remote location, news did filter through to the monastery, and when she had barely seen eleven summers, she learned that the heir to Brudel, the crown princess, had died. Shortly after, a small wing of the Pegasus Knights of the Royal Guard made the place their home. It was then that she learned the truth of her origin.

All too aware of the game of nobles, the treachery of the court, and the vulnerability of her own position, she requested the Knights of her new guard take her under their tutelage. From then on, martial training became part of her daily studies. Long soiled on the concept of the throne from the histories and tragedies of the past, she reluctantly threw herself into preparing for what could easily come to pass. If she wanted to survive and navigate the rest of her life as her own person, then she couldn’t sit idle and pretty as the princesses of times past.

Indeed, at fifteen, she finally had to say her goodbyes to the convent, but she left as a fully-fledged Pegasus knight in her own right. Brought to the capital, in an elaborate ceremony, Lutatia was legitimized as a princess and heir presumptive to the empire of Brudel, a title and position that she came to accept with great reluctance. Living on a peaceful mountain retreat had suited her just fine, after all.

She was introduced to court life. It was everything that she expected. Yet, she took to it as her responsibility to the empire in absence of a better person.

It quickly became obvious that the sitting empress was not long for this world. Like vultures circling the dying, the high nobles of the court plotted, with a prominent duke maneuvering to become Lutatia’s regent upon her succession as his puppet. Soon after, a second camp scrounged up another underage royal candidate in opposition.

Amidst all the chaos, the princess discovered an unrelated conspiracy to defraud the royal treasury—a problem that she took it upon herself to personally correct, maneuvering and personally raiding the conspirators with her knights to recover the stolen gold.

She was not the meek sheltered princess that many had expected. No- to the other plotters, it became obvious that instead of being a piece on the board to be controlled, despite her own wishes, she was in fact another player in the game for power— a threat.

An assassination attempt logically followed. Ambushed in the air during a mountain excursion by 'rogue' knights, the princess was nearly killed, bloodied and escaping death by a hair’s width. With battle lines in the court seemingly being drawn in the sand, and her continued existence seemingly the catalyst to set it all off, she faked her own demise in the ambush. Taking the name of a missing heir of a merchant house, she set off on her own as Kyra Pfalz-Karstadt in the Twin Kingdoms, making a new life as an advisor and martial troubleshooter for a trading company there. She would get her peaceful and idyllic life back eventually.

Time passed. The Brudelian queen died; long live the queen. She picked up new skills, and new weapons. The company grew, as did its challenges, but so did her own wealth. Then… her past finally caught up with her, and she became subject yet again to another attempt on her life.

This time, there was no perfect escape. A good fight she gave, but against a numerically superior foe, there was no salvation.

Dying in forest amidst a burning caravan was never the way she had expected her story to end.

It was somewhat ironic, but equally fitting nonetheless that an Envoy of Agamemnon would appear in front of her before her dying breath. Despite her wishes as a host, it seemed she would still become an Envoy of Agamemnon no matter what she did.

With a newfound purpose, the being that was now the princess tied up her loose ends with the company and made her leave across the strait to Latis. Like all past endeavors of its host, she would tackle the Prophecy head on.

Perhaps, then, she would get her retirement in splendid isolation— after all, if an empty being, compatible in all respects but one, received the memories and personality of its host, are they not in the end but the same?

?????

A special secret for the future?

Prophetiae Adventum: Envoys of the Pantheon

Yeah, Fire Emblem's Pegasus knights are fantastic. There's quite a few more games in the series that have kingdoms with entire orders of Pegasus Knights, too.

I think I have an idea that I can work with, but I'm worried it might be too ambitious. If you don't mind, I might have to slide into your DMs to ask a few questions in a little bit!

Prophetiae Adventum: Envoys of the Pantheon

I just wanted to drop by and say that anybody who incorporates Pegasus Knights into their grand worldbuilding is a pretty swell person in my book.

It's possible that I have a character for you, but I'm not very sure yet.

Epic of Beginnings - Dawns Cradle

Lissa

A grin stretched across Lissa’s face as her hits found their mark. If a mere pair of wolves gave her reason to break a sweat, then she would have never made it this far from home. Really, the wolves should have known better than to have launched their attack like that. In the corner of her eye, she noted that the third wolf had been bloodied against Nylah’s light spears. Good; that was one less person and wolf to worry about.

The ribbon-less girl turned to the wolf whose face she had kicked in—the one that she gored was out of the fight. Raising her sword, she prepared to end the fight with one last slash when the ground began to rumble.

An earthquake? Now? She had experienced a few such tremors in the past. One of them had been bad enough that she had the fortune to experience the thrill-inducing adventure of having to dodge flying bricks from a building collapsing next to her. As unique as that experience had been, Lissa had not enjoyed the aftermath of poking around looking for survivors in the rubble.

The reaction of the wolves, however, told her that this was no mere seismic activity. Literal alarm bells began to ring in her head as her instincts told her to run, and she immediately began backing away from the forest, just as the remaining wolves began to sprint away.

“You guys… I think we should leave,” she began, voice unsure for the moment.

When a tree was knocked aside, and a wolf disappeared into the treeline at the lash of a monstrous tongue, that uncertainly coalesced into stone cold fear and then into a firm course of action.

“…Run. We’re leaving. Get to the village!” Sheathing her sword, she jumped backwards, latching onto Haruno’s light-stretcher. Mustering all her strength, she began to pull it along with her as she ran back in the direction of Dawn, hoping that Nylah would follow, or help her with the bed.

Whatever remained behind the trees was not to be tangoed with.

Epic of Beginnings - Dawns Cradle

Lissa

Lissa had hoped that her immediate reaction would have been enough to ward off a lone wolf that might have bumbled itself into an opportunity, but it seemed that the three of them would not be that lucky. Although it had momentarily looked deterred, it was soon joined by two other wolves. The Raam only had the luxury of processing this information for a brief moment before the three beasts were upon them.

For better or for worse, the pack split its attention between herself and Nylah, clearly smart enough to disregard the injured Oni as a threat. Nylah drawing the attention of one of the pack meant that Lissa faced down a far more reasonable two wolves, though, and from the spears that the Mothraki had summoned, it seemed the villager was more capable in a fight than she had initially assessed. At the very least, she could count on the girl not immediately dying in the next few seconds, which was more than enough for the armored girl to make things work.

She paid little attention to the avatar of the moon goddess that hovered in the periphery of her vision as she met the first wolf head on, sword at the ready. If it continued its charge in the way it did, it would simply gore itself on her sword with relatively little effort on her part. Simultaneously, she kept track of the second wolf that had remained in the corner of her eye as it jumped at her, syncing its movements with its packmate. That it could coordinate this well was mildly impressive, but she was confident in beating them off.

As the two wolves converged on her, she simply shifted her stance at the last moment to let the first wolf thunder past her before bringing her sword to run down along its body. Immediately following up, she turned this momentum to engage its mate, leveraging it to bring… a boot to the face. Regardless of how the engagement went, she then quickly disengaged by jumping backwards, making sure to remain in a position that would keep the wolves away from the other two.

Epic of Beginnings - Dawns Cradle

Lissa

It took some quick thinking, careful work, and the two of them working together, but it seemed like they had gotten the wounded Oni stabilized enough to be moved to the village without immediately dying on them. Lissa couldn’t do anything for the trauma on the girl’s torso besides applying pressure to staunch the bleeding before Nylah was able to finish up her medicinal paste and apply a stopgap treatment to the wound, but the Raam-in-disguise was able to staunch the other bleeding with well-applied tourniquets to her extremities.

It was just as they finished treating her that the girl tried to get up, but Lissa held out a gentle hand to stop her. “Don’t move unnecessarily, or you might open a wound again,” she explained. “Nylah has some spells that can help you move, I think—”

Just as she finished speaking, movement in the corner of her eye drew her attention away towards the brush.

Trouble.

It seemed the predator from earlier was a wolf after all. The deer from earlier probably fell to it, then… or, more likely, to another wolf in its pack. “Kuh… What awful timing…” With a pained expression, the armored traveler stood up, quickly drawing her longsword from its leather sheath. Dropping into a guard stance, she warily eyed the approaching wolf, making sure to place herself squarely in between Nylah and her injured patient, and the hungry beast.

“Nylah, hang back and support me from the rear if you can. Keep an eye out for the rest of its pack. If it’s just one right now, it shouldn’t be a problem, but I can’t defend from all angles.” Although a sword, even a longsword, wasn’t the most optimal weapon to fight off a bunch of hungry predators –the lances her race preferred were far more ideal—between her chainmail coat, her constitution, and her own skill, Lissa was well prepared to tank a simple wolf. It was the two others she was worried about, if they were encircled by a wolf pack.

With that in mind, she kept her position static for the moment, giving up the initiative to the predator. Far better to hold here and let the wolf skewer itself on her sword than to rush it and leave the two others to be ambushed by the rest of the pack.