Conscripts

Blades of Iron Roses: An Anime-Inspired Knight RP

⚘ Steffen Gravinir ⚘

---

"I certainly hope some creative folks can come up with a good use of that painting. Because I cannot." Steffen replied with an amused headshake.

Now he imagined that thing being used as some sort of decoy in case some thief decided to take chances with the Roses. Give or take, those paintings would still be expensive just by the owners alone. Or better yet, a prank to counter-prank some certain knights in the order. Or even a shield of some kind too on the battlefield, as long as one went through a very severe and thorough ego death before wielding that into battle.

"Concubines?" Steffen looked up with a confused look, before opening his eyes wide and gazed away. "Oh right right." His hand rubbed his temple, a little embarrassed he didn't know the word at first. Maybe it was him, but he wasn't aware that having mistresses seems to be more common in these area than from where he lived. Or maybe it could just be Merilia. But what's the big deal with having her mistresses come over? Are they troublemakers?

"I don't know anything about that yet. But if they're here, they'll make themselves known soon enough." Steffen said, leaning his head slightly. "Is them coming an issue though? I can always help them out if needed."

@Raineh Daze

Blades of Iron Roses: An Anime-Inspired Knight RP

⚘ Steffen Gravinir ⚘

---

A cough brought the Ingvarr back from his subtly meditative state, enjoying both the view and also making sure the plants and flowers get to do the same to anyone who visited in the future. Turning around, he was met with another sight of pink, one not that far off from the roses he just watered earlier. It was Dame Tyaethe inquiring something about a painting. While the subject matter was quite out of the blue that it took Steffen a few seconds to register the question, her phrasing of it really drove it home to him.

"...You're talking about that one, right?" He said, with a finger raised.

The prestige of the Iron Rose were hard to dispute, and thus some artistic folks would occasionally send in their work to show their gratitude, and maybe other purposes as well. A lot weren't exactly displayable, not always necessarily because of the skills of the artists. Those ones he'd gladly send a letter of appreciation for. But no, that was likely not the one Tyaethe was asking about. This one was...let's just say even Steffen, who was quite liberal with his standards of artistic expression, was a little hesitant on calling it so. He really wasn't sure what kind of thoughts and feelings that portrait was supposed to arouse to the bystanders.

"Yes, we did get a painting like that." A slight tint of exasperation came from Steffen. "And no, no one approved it. It was just there somehow."

Seeing the Tyaethe being a bit twitchy about the sun in front of her, Steffen looked around and extended one of his arms towards a bench nearby, one where the sun is behind it instead. If the conversation were to continue, the vampire probably would like to be sitting to face the much taller Ingvarr rather than standing, not to mention the sun too - annoying for anyone facing it and not just vampires.

"Dame Merilia's getting...more creative I'd say." He said, trying his best to soften his real feelings about the painting. He had seen through the hallways full of these work, and her work had always had a distinct look to it. The choice of material, the shockingly realistic brushstroke, like if someone just take a sword and cut the scenery out from reality. It wasn't hard to infer the artist once he was introduced. "It's in the storage if you're interested. Truth be told, I'm letting Dame Liliana decide on what to do with it, when she's free."

@Raineh Daze

Blades of Iron Roses: An Anime-Inspired Knight RP

⚘ Steffen Gravinir ⚘

---

[+]

It was cold. There was something in this cloud heaven that unsettled him.

An Ingvarr of natural birth was never supposed to be feeling the bumpy skins from the chilly wind. No, this wasn't natural. It started with only one bandit, and soon escalated to battle-hardened soldiers, mercenaries. And the intensity grew with each opponent, leaving Steffen no time to rest inbetween.

In the midst of the dull-colored rock plateau, the tall Ingvarr stood at the other end of an even longer spear, one coated and trimmed in complete metal, ornamented with two biased gold squares, the razor sharp edge of one end quickly deflected a dangerous axe swing and immediately was followed up with the other end, as Steffen switched his sides of attack. The blade sliced into the attacker's throat, and another follow up, this time lethal stab, into the same area.

The opponent, as much as he could feel the flesh earlier driving the spear into him, had already fragmented, disintegrated and scattered. The ground leaving no trace of his slain enemy. It was as if their lives were insignificant, not even worth a remembrance, a prayer, a last word. They just vanished like that, only for the next opponent, a stronger opponent, to emerge and throw themselves at the Ingvarr.

His death wasn't even significant either. The moment a spear was driven through his heart, a sword through his neck or an arrow to the eye, the echoing scream was cut short, as he was right back on his feet. All wounds healed, all pain disappeared, all armors cleaned, back to the starting point. Continuity only applies to three things: his vivid memory of the events, the encouraging cries and rallies of the legendary figures of the Iron Roses - those who had made the order and the land they lived on as beautiful as it is, and the agonizing pain in his left hip.

That last one came later...as Steffen's breathe laboured to keep himself calm and composed, his mind too busy juggling between the fiery ever-continuous battle and beholding the trance he had been thrown into - the spear skilfully yet with great force slapped the sword away from his opponent and delivered a quick death, his next opponent was coming at him already.

White jaunty hair, red and black horns, eyes luminant in nasty intention, came right at Steffen with his short sword. The Ingvarr knight hesitated, thinking he had seen someone else, his hands tingled and cold just for a brief brief moment, and when he moved to defend himself, his opponent was already right up to his face. A few swings in and the other Ingvarr got a clean and devastating hit on Steffen's left hip.

Both his jaws gripped tight, the sound of air rushing into his mouth as adrenaline kicked back in. One of his arm gripped tightly into both wrist that was gripping onto the sword that was halfway into his hip and partially visible from the other side, and the other let go of the spear and reached for a dagger sheathed by his side. His opponent did not expect the response, and quickly fell to a stab to the throat.

The next opponent came in almost immediately, however, and Steffen knew he was dead. Both weapons on the ground, having been injured, a well-known hero of the past. And indeed he fell swiftly. And unlike previous fight, the wound the Ingvarr left on him was strangely permanent. The searing pain faded to pity him, but the dull, burning pain that took its place was not much consolation.

The battle continued until sunset, the sky scorched partially from Reon's beauty but also the blood of both his and his enemy alike. By this time, he was surprised he still had the mental state to continue the never-ending fight and death, the dull pain on his side adding more salt to it. He was still, with a mountain of tenacity, taking on opponents stronger than him by all means, and still standing.

His next opponent, out of how many he had lost count long ago, was Erich.

The one person with no need of an introduction, but also the one whom the knights had to deal with the week before. But this Erich was no hollow skeleton. This was the Erich, the Demonbreaker at his almost full power. Wrinkles plowed his forehead, but his steps were firm and strong, his armor basked in the mesmerizing evening sun. For a moment, the Ingvarr almost wished this was real, but the unfortunate reality was that he had seen the rotted bones of the great warrior. This wasn't real.

Erich made sure Steffen was ready to fight, but wasted no time the moment he indicated his fighting intent. He might not be the real Erich, but his fighting was. His full might was unleashed upon the Ingvarr, his giant blade swinging with almost no effort. Each swing, Steffen needed his full might to even begin to contend with the infamous Demonbreaker, forcing him to rely overwhelmingly on his mobility due to his lack of a bulky armor. That combined with his magic, Steffen was surprised that he could survive to deliver some of his own counterattacks, but he knew it wouldn't take long before he was overwhelmed.

One of Erich's sword swing managed to catch Steffen off-balance, and the follow-up swing on the other side was delivered with the full spinning force of Erich's body. Steffen tried to block with his spear, but the force was too much this time. It was a miracle that it was his polearm's shaft that collided with his body thanks to its incredible resilience, not the sharp blade and he was just pushed back significantly. But that collision unfortunately hit him right in his old injury. The Ingvarr leaned leftward awkwardly, trying to process the pain that briefly just incapacitated him for a few seconds.

The Hero of Aimlenn didn't even take a second to figure it out.

"What happened?" His voice uttered, his grandfatherly concern well-mixed in with his tough voice. "Old wounds?"

Steffen wanted to say something, but an invisible urge from within stopped him, and sealed his lips tight. His hands trembled, for once his battle-hardened spirit faltered.

Erich had no mercy on this pitiful attempt, as he unleashed a barrage of attack, all of them from Steffen's left side, brute forcing through the Ingvarr's crumbling defense. Very soon, Erich's blade calmly and very smoothly swiped his spear away and cut right into his chest. Upon pulling his blade back, Erich looked at Steffen for a moment, now fully defeated, clutching onto the fountain of blood on his body.

"Sir Steffen." He said. "There is much of you to critique but from the looks of it, it may be excess."

The Hero of Aimlenn, the Demonbreaker, the true exemplar of any aspiring knight, walked over to the Ingvarr.

"I sense a stormy youth in you, son. But take it from me, it is no use trying to keep it in you." Erich said, as he raised his sword. "It kills."

Without hesitation, he brought it down upon Steffen. Death beckoned, but not before Steffen could hear Erich's last word to him.

"And take this as a lesson."

The dream did not continue for long after that. The last fragment in his mind was Volkstraad.

The pain in his hip was gone. That was when he knew he was actually in the real world. In the comforting support of his wool bed he laid, his hand careening on his vitals. All were just the sensation of a cold morning palm. His chest lowered from the air escaping his nose and mouth, finally calming down from the previous night.

A few unusual yawn glistened his eyes with tears. It was quite rare that Steffen would be tired from a night of sleep, knowing the importance of rest after each hard day of work. If physical deterioration wasn't good enough for everyone, a clouded mind attracted negative thoughts. And he didn't need more of those to ruin his day. But his rest yesterday wasn't necessarily rest either. Maybe he could take the day a little easier.

Upon finishing his normal morning routine and heading for some breakfast, the Ingvarr decided on what to do for the rest of the day. His paperwork were to be delayed a little back further in the day, or even the day after depending. Training would be nice, and quite necessary, but it's a quiet morning, it's better to enjoy it a little. He also wondered where Lein had went, having not seen the Hundi bugging him for a whole week, but Steffen was a bit too busy to ask. He trusted that this troublemaker knight would likely be back at some point. He wouldn't just get up and leave without saying anything to him right?

Now that he overthought about it, he did get a little worried.

Steffen chose to retreat to the Candaeln garden with a pair of scissors and a bucket instead, tending to the flowers and plants growing there. He always loved the garden. Having visited and tended to it quite often, the different flowers brought into this world a serene and delightful fragrance. Adding in the sounds of chirping birds, the delicate butterflies swirling in hues, it wasn't difficult to see that this would be his favorite place for a calm quiet morning.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

---

[+]

"John? John."

The doctor's attention snapped to the noice all of a sudden. Before him was his desk office in the Institute main headquarter. The oak wooden desk, a small lamp, several ornaments and a ton of paperwork. Yes, he was back in Varian.

And in front of him once again was his favorite mentor, Dr. Hunter.

"Yes?" John replied, clearing his throats.

"You alright?" Hunter asked followed by John's nod. "There's a commission formed right now in Alestal village, and they need an Institute representative. The council was wondering if you want to take over that? For some field experience?"

"What's it about?"

"There's apparently an outbreak of some sort there. We don't know what it is yet, but from what the lords there said, they seem to already have it under control."

"Already? Wow." John listened with a little tint of curiosity and apathy. "Where even is Alestal village?"

"It's up north in Krasivana, but it's in the other end." Meaning north west of Varian. It's probably the most isolated place in the entire kingdom. At least Kolonivka had the shared border area with Caesonia, and thus people tended to go over there from time to time, most often not in a good way.

Hunter handed the report over to John, crossing his arms afterwards as his mentee was taking a look over. "I wouldn't take this report at face value though. It has been rather slow and has quite a sloppy presentation."

"I'd imagine that's how it should be..." John's words trailed off as he was distracted by the report. Indeed, it was quite tardy. Multiple clerical errors, vague and unhelpful description. What he could cobble up from the mess was that this was some sort of respiratory disease, but with black dots on people and weird moodswing? Needless to say, discrepancies were definitely there.

"Sure, I'll take a look." John closed the report.

"It's probably nothing serious, but I'd advise caution regardless." Hunter said. "The train departs the day after tomorrow."

It's probably nothing serious. He, at the time, thought that as well.

A cold breeze blew across his face...

"John."

He heard someone calling out for his name. The next thing he knew, he was slumped against his arm. His eyes opened to the concerned look of Alina.

"You fell asleep again?" She asked. "Did you take your medication?"

About that medication. John scratched the back of his head, wondering what to say. After a bit, he decided to whisper it to her.

"Oh alright. Well, I will get you a refill then. Next time don't do that out of nowhere, ok?" She said, as John stood up from his chair. "Are you finished? Feel free to go back to your quarter for some rest."

John rubbed his eyes and temple a bit. "I'm fine Alina." He said. "I'll go take a walk. You can leave the meds in my room."

He didn't want to screw up his sleep schedule by trying to nap further and not being able to sleep later. He'd have to take it through the day. Wandering around the streets of Sorian, he hoped to find something or someone interesting enough to keep him company for a bit.

Noble Arms - The ASEAN War [Moved to New Thread]

---

The vague phrasing of both the woman and her apparent translator were yet to calm the two pilots, until one of the German soldiers mentioned the word Noble Arms. Ah, she was one of those folks. Cuong curled his lips a little, nodding with nothing but impressiveness. He had worked with Noble Arms users before, but he never was tired of seeing them and their powers. Each and everyone of them were so unique and frankly quite cool-looking. It's a shame a lot of them ended up letting that go to their heads. For what it's worth though, Sgt Marlena didn't seem like one of them. She looked like a chill and nice person.

"Senior Lieutenant Cuong Hoang Van." Cuong returned the salute with his own, as he spoke with a clear anglicized pronunciation of his name. Even then it might be a bit hard to pronounce the first time around. "Yeah, you can say it however you feel. No one has really gotten that right." He laughed it off, mainly as a jab towards people who kept insisting on getting names correctly and offered Marlena and the soldiers a handshake.

"Lieutenant Nikolay Phan." The Russian airman, after calming himself down, shadowed his partner.

"His was pretty easy though, just 'Fan'...ya know." Cuong's hand swirled back and forth, imitating a hand fan. After making sure the lads understood his point, he gave them a smile. "Well, I certainly do not want to disturb the special forces on their duty, don't I? But if you're free for some quick snacks, you can find us here. Or visit us at the airbase. Always glad to receive a friend or two."

The pilots glanced over at the owner of the vandalized store, whose confusion was masked behind his tended injuries. For his horrors, he would be treated well with some fancy purchases by the pilots, with good tips to go with it. It spoke much to their hospitality, and to the pilots, it was supposed to be a nice meal of respite before their next mission, and this incident would not affect that mood. They willed it.

---

Well, their peace and quiet lasted almost two weeks. It was a good run.

It was not because of a mission that got them tepid responses, it was because it was from the so-called 'Task Force Obsidian'. The victory at Lingayen was great, and a perfect demonstrator of how destructive and useful Noble Arm individuals are in combat, but it still wasn't enough to shake off the impression of disorganization that they got from the group. It felt like the high commands really were just putting all the eggs in one basket, poke it with a stick and hoped that it does something.

Lotus Squadron was not technically part of this, but it seemed like the Filipino high commands really found them to be the salvation of the country, so they put as much support as they could around this ragtag group of Noble Arm users. Which is quite ironic due to this government being literally called the Government of National Salvation, and this task force is overwhelmingly foreigners. When that name was mentioned by Noel, the some of the pilots simply turned away or covered their mouth, clearly trying to suppress their laughter. They had heard of this new name for quite a while now, but it still would never be unfunny hearing the mundane Indonesia, Thailand, Vietnam, Singapore right next to the PHILIPPINE GOVERNMENT OF NATIONAL SALVATION. Somehow it actually made this whole QRS being supposed Qing dynasty supporters who wanted to return the days of the Mandates of Heavens seem quite sane in comparison.

Speaking of the QRS and their operations, so it seemed like Obsidian was there to relieve the QRS of their siege, and Lotus was just helping with air combat. The details were pretty vague, and the squadron's personnel's responses were indeed quite lukewarm. Discussions and doubts were raised, and the most concerning one was actually brought up first by Miss Qingshe, the apparent PLA defector and QRS member in the auditorium: there were no mentioning of other squadron support involved.

"Miss Qingshe is right." Nikolay stood up and spoke. "We only have eight aircraft in total. We may be used to fighting outnumbered, but we are not juggernauts."

The squadron was also more capable fighting in a more 'insurgency' doctrine, but that was not too big of a deal to bring up. The more pressing point would be the concern that the high commands were thinking that this supposed ace-squadron was deemed so successful that they thought they could survive without proper support.

"Please tell us that we're not the only squadron in the air." They better hope that Noel had more to say because otherwise this would be a very pitiful display.

Cuong simply let his partner spoke for the squadron, as he eyed other members of the task force in the auditorium. Many of them absurdly young, one of them, Nil, sitting close by him. She looked a bit familiar.

"What's up?" He casually struck up a conversation with her. "Have we met before somewhere?"

@Gerlando@Letter Bee@Lewascan2@KaiserElectric

The Lion's Banner: A Fire Emblem-Inspired Anime Fantasy RP

Irian Sinewell

---

"Lirrah." Irian nodded. "New friends are indeed worth the effort."

Lirrah would be continuing what she does best if it hadn't been for Kayliss, which caused the Nem's attention span to shift straight to trying out discounts on her. Truly a merchant indeed. He decided to listen to the ongoing discussion around the strategies they were going to employ. Baiting out enemies were more in the minds of the soldiers around here than he expected. The only disagreement that the group was having was more of the methodology of doing it, which Irian found a little amusing that it was more of how much they could trick a suspicious opponent. To him, if the opponent was suspicious enough to not take the bait on the caravan strategy, then luring out their entire group with a raiding party would just be biting on rocks a little harder. The difference there would just be the degree of the cultist's arrogance. If anything, what would concern him more would be how devastating the Lions can inflict on the enemy and to that Irian believed more on Velvetica's initial strategy. Caravan ambush is a lot easier to envelope and completely decimate the cultists rather than relying on good warriors to lure enemies out through fighting capabilities.

What the Steel Princess decided on was more trying to offend the cultists instead to actually lure them out into a fight, which made sense too. Pretty much an element from both of their strategies combined, without the need to risk the Nem merchant and their supplies. If they took the bait and walked directly into an ambush, then perfect, one less enemy for Velts. And if they were competent enough, well now they knew. The elf simply followed along with his arms crossed, his silence conveying his agreements.

"I'll ambush." Irian said tersely. "It's better, and I'm certain the princess wants archers at the backline anyway."

@VitaVitaAR

Blades of Iron Roses: An Anime-Inspired Knight RP

⚘ Steffen Gravinir ⚘

---

Steffen was fully expecting an attack, if not certain death, from the witch. For such a dangerous gambit, having no intention of just keeling over and accepting death, there wasn't much hesitation or fear both from appearance and actuality, something unlike previous fights that he was a little surprised afterwards, as the surge of the moment faded away and that she decided to spare him. The woman's words struck vaguely on him, but her fury went into the necromancer instead. Not to give this man too much credits, but he went down like a necromancer: a stubborn, undying fool.

The witch also ceased any form of resistance. It was her heart that crumbled rather than her body, and really, who could fault a person for this. A warrior fights for what she loved, and that she had failed. Alfrid had died, and, as the battle died down, the undead returning to their resting place among their ancestors, the fighters recovering, his last words got to Steffen more than any battle wounds he received from that fight. Victory was had, it was total for the Iron Roses, but he felt hollow,...unwhole.

Behind the glory, justice - true justice - was not yet served.

He knew that the knights and the crowns would not be happy letting her go free, just from her participation alone, but also her statement implying there is more to the story. She and the Nem sisters may not see true peace for a while, despite their unwilling participation.

"Sir Fleuri is right." Steffen readily stepped up to affirm Fleuri. "If there were to be arrests, I am willing to appeal for more lenience...for all three of them." Glancing over to the witch and the nem, his eyelids hang loose, his inner eyebrows raised. "And I suggest patience for now. We already killed her loved ones. Let's not kill her will too."

@Crimson Paladin@VitaVitaAR

Dreaming Together With You - A Fading Memory Experiment

David Liang

---

"Haha, I do not know man. I feel a bit weird hearing the rattling within me. But at least I look on point." David laughed, holding his hand out open to make the point. Indeed, he was the computer guy according to everyone, informatics were his undisputed best subject, and someone would say that he was a bit too serious for his own good. A robotic avatar would be just as expected as Odaya going around town causing trouble.

He did appreciate his friend's genuine compliment though, and as a result his strides grew a bit more confident and firm. Looking over at the item that was given to friend, the tin-covered David leaned his head a bit.

"Yeah, it does give that vibe." Was his response, before Eckehart explained the items given, though it leaned more towards giving an overview instead. The item changes color depending on luck? It's purple at the moment. What the hell does that correlate to? He had no idea, he was never the superstitious type. If only whatever his brain is equivalent to (hard drive? SSD?) had that information at hand, but the transformation probably did not affect much body functionality in all the important senses.

"Hmm, that'll be useful later. I hope I can read more on that somewhere." He said to Eckehart. Knowing the luck of the moment was indeed a very princely gift, as risks and rewards are always tied to the fates. And thus David put away the stone, albeit in a very typical fashion. A small part of his lower arm parted outward, opening a small storage space for him. It felt a little harrowing knowing that this would have been his flesh and blood if it hadn't been for this transformation, but he had to get used to that too.

Turning over to William who got the explanation of his item, David nodded with his lips curled.

"Given that, you look more like those angels in movies. They always have a holy object without fail."

The wings look very much on point as well too.

---

The bustling city view gradually shifted upwards, the scenery soon to be replaced with a gigantic palace, piercing through the skies, it was so high that David couldn't even see its end, and he would lose his balance in trying. The Song also began to clear itself of the disturbances of the city, growing louder and louder, but yet not deafening or uncomfortable. It was as if something about this palace here resonated much with it.

It was the palace of the royals, according to the informative tour guide, and there lived a princess longing for a friend finally. He could feel a little bit just from hearing that, but he still knew very little of it. Taking the group away to be her friend is a little questionable though, as it was clear from Audrey's voice.

"Let's not jump to anger, shall we? Despite all the reasons to." David said. There's nothing worse than antagonizing the one who could bring you back home. "We'll see what the princess has to say. And who knows, maybe the way home is as simple as just asking nicely." His words weren't directed at anybody, but it could feel a bit like a jab.

@Teyao@Gisk

The Lion's Banner: A Fire Emblem-Inspired Anime Fantasy RP

Irian Sinewell

---

It's not a big surprise that he was to be the backline fighters and picking his targets from range, unless Velvetica had better ideas to put him on stealth duty like Kayliss, but he had a bit of doubt about that idea. Velt's battle plans and doctrine were a lot more symmetrical. Armies come and fight mostly in the open field of honor, locked in battles of wits and tenacity, and the superior army would emerge victorious. Woof Elves, however, tend to be a lot more 'dishonorable' if some were to judge, but it was effective nonetheless. Irian is a flexible person though; long range one-shot one-kill type of engagement was exactly his forte.

The Nem he was observing earlier made quite the charm on introduction. The elf would have been easily manipulated by the sweetness if he had more shred of vanity in him, but it was a difficult trait to live with. It was already hard enough living in nature, as much as it might seem otherwise. And his family always took the earliest chance possible to knock him down a peg every time he had any idea of personal aggrandizement.

"Well, I'm glad to hear. I'm certain you will perform in battle just as well." He said, his tone quite a bit more flattering, but he tried to keep it as grounded as possible. Knowing Nem traditions of combat, as well as Lirrah being good enough to be around in the Lions, there was a certain amount of trust placed in there.

"Can't help each other though if we don't know our names." He gave a smile and extended an arm for the Nem to shake, and if she were to accept it, it wouldn't be a traditional handshake, but Irian would grip onto her lower arm instead, expecting the same gesture. It was not just an equal partnership but more comradeship and trust involved.

"Irian Sinewell. Or just Iri. No formality needed within our ranks."

@Octo

Dreaming Together With You - A Fading Memory Experiment

Alright, I hope to be posting in the next few days.