Cu Chulainn

The Epic of Beginnings - Fragments of a weathered scroll

Shigenaga Nomura
Seek & Go Seek

@Rune_Alchemist

Nomura pondered this task for a moment, wondering just how he'd find that thief. He had no tracking skills of his own, his elongated proboscis being only suitable for aesthetic purposes rather than for any meaningful tracking. Perhaps he could rally some of the villagers to his side, but... the ones worth their salt are likely the same ones who wish ill upon himself. There's no trusting the hunters, after all. Asking for the help of the oni would also be disingenuous as well, seeing as the forces protecting Lady Mie's camp have already dwindled due to the deal he had made...

Well, there's no use dwelling about allies now if he doesn't even know what the thing looks like!

"Hm, yes yes, I'll retrieve this heirloom of yours. But I'll have to know of this treasured object a bit more. Surely, I cannot find what I am looking for if I don't know what it looks like, yes? I'll also have to know of every... foreigner who had stepped into and out of your tent between the time you last remember having the object and now. Without much else, the most I can do is strip myself down, but I have no desire to become that familiar with my employer. Done it before, ended disastrously."

Nomura glanced once more at the conniving fox, her smug aura for once not feeling as if it were mocking him.

"I'll also need some help from... Ayumi, if I may. Yes, yes, she may be able to sniff out the scent of this thief, fit into small spaces I cannot. Of course, I'll be doing the main sleuthing, but my skillset is ill-suited for tracking others and I'd like to avoid certain hunters if I can.

"Oh, right, and I'll give her two fishes for her services."

Whether or not Ayumi is allowed to follow him, Nomura would make his way out of the tent and once more looking for Bolcha, seeing as he is the only person he could trust in this village of imposters.

The Epic of Beginnings - Fragments of a weathered scroll

Shigenaga Nomura
Macar-Oni and Cheese

@Rune_Alchemist

Nomura smiled confidently under his mask, crossing his arms as he admired the deal he has facilitated. As much as he wanted to haggle alongside the oni, however, he was still not too certain about the worth of their work, much less discuss it in front of their faces. No, he's sure that this much should be enough. Nomura would take his leave with a bow, making his way back to Lady Mie after one last remark.

"Pleasure doing business with you. I'm glad you were able to put your faith in me."

Making his way back, Nomura wondered what else needed to be done. Hopefully Lady Mie wouldn't be too upset with him taking his time with Bolcha. It felt rude to keep a concerned customer waiting, after all. More importantly, that craftsman knew quite a bit about these lands. Oh, if only Nomura had asked him how to get rid of some particularly meddlesome deer from his back...

At the very least, this deal would further help him get rid of any cultists on his tail. The sooner they were taken care of, the better.

"I return!" Nomura stated with a bow. "Apologies for taking my time. I wasn't sure if Enli's attendant was to be trusted with his commission, so I had to get to know him a bit more. But it turned out quite lucrative for us, did it not? The delivery has been made, and another deal is just about to be cemented!" Nomura proclaimed, proudly, before awaiting his next task.

Itiner: Heroes of Ardenfeld

Ulreik of Ardenfeld

D&D Character Sheet

Who I Am

The strong, silent type. Given his (former) profession, it would only make sense that Ulreik is someone who prefers actions to words, as what he lacks in rhetoric and wit, he has in work ethic. That said, it's not like he holds any sort of pride over his work, as he is completely modest with what he does. After all, why would someone be proud of digging graves? It is an honest job, if macabre, but it's not like he's anyone special for doing it.

Believing that he is cursed due to his tragic upbringing, Ulreik prefers to keep others at a distance. It is why he ended up tending graves in the first place. After all, he believes it's better if he hung around the dead over the living. It's because of this that Ulreik has made little friends aside from his fellows from Ardenfeld. In place of interacting with others, however, Ulreik has dedicated much of his focus to improving himself and getting things done. A determination developed by someone who spends too much time alone.

My Story

Even before the attack, Ulreik's life was already filled with tragedy. His mother had died during childbirth, leaving himself and his father on their lonely little farm on a hill. It didn't help that every time it was the day of Ulreik's birth, something bad would happen in the small ranch of theirs. When he turned two, their cattle had gotten sick and were nearly all killed off. When he was four, a terrible famine struck their farm just before the month of harvest. At seven, their barn had been struck by lightning. It was coincidences like these that caused Ulreik's father to call him a cursed child, regretting that he was ever born.

On his ninth birthday, Ulreik's father had sent him to Ardenfeld, a town only a few paces away from the farm, to run some errands. In truth, he had only sent the boy out so his presence wouldn't cause another travesty to happen. Of course, this was the same day of the attack. During the siege of the lowly hamlet, Ulreik had blacked out in the chaos. When he had finally come to, he was surrounded by the other surviving children of his age, mere minutes after the highwaymen had sacked the village.

Believing himself to be truly cursed, Ulreik broke away from the other children as soon as he was able to, running back to his home. It, too, was ablaze. Their crops had been stomped out, their animals dead or taken, and their barn all but destroyed. Ulreik had found his father's body, already bled out, nestled atop the small mound that was his mother's grave. It was such a sight that had finally broken the idea to the boy's mind that he was actually cursed.

When the older survivors had found Ulreik, he was clutching a shovel almost as large as he was, standing in front of two makeshift graves.

Ulreik's time at the Landeil orphanage was as expected. The more superstitious folk shared the same beliefs as the boy's father, believing Ulreik to be a child that would only bring tragedy and death. Many of the other children in the orphanage saw this and used this as enough of a reason to pick on the poor boy. Much like his father's abuse, this bullying was merely another form of penance that Ulreik believed he deserved. Of course, this didn't mean he wouldn't fight back.

At the age of thirteen, Ulreik was kicked out, having gotten into far too many physical altercations with the other children. With nowhere else to go, Ulreik had gone back to the only place he had known, back to his father's ranch. When he returned, Ulreik was surprised to see that it had turned to a new graveyard. What was once a place where life is cultivated had now turned into a land where the dead would have their final rest. Ulreik would soon find the place where his mother and father were buried, now a part of a mass grave dedicated to those who lost their lives during that fateful day in Ardenfeld.

Believing that the dead should at least have some form of memorial other than merely being buried together, Ulreik had made his way to the groundskeeper's abode, finding it empty but unlocked. Procuring some tools and a pair of planks, the boy would fashion a makeshift memorial, listing the date of the attack as well as a few harrowing words.

"We have not forgotten."

When the graveyard's groundskeeper, a wizened halfling, had returned, he would see the boy resting near the mass grave, tired boh from his work as well as his journey from Sarinan. The halfling dragged the boy back to his home, waiting for him to awaken. When Ulreik had come to, the halfling first scolded the boy for using tools not belonging to him before complimenting him on his handiwork. Introducing himself as Osmund, he gave the young Ulreik an offer soon after finding out that he had no place to go: help him tend the graves in exchange for room, board, and maybe a wage if he does a good enough job.

And so, Ulreik began his work as a gravedigger, tending to the very same lands his father had done years before. He would learn many things from Osmund, from boarding up a grave template to properly sawing out a casket. He also learned other skills from the halfling's past life as well. Osmund was not a stranger to death even before he became a grave tender, having served in the Pallaviel military as a scout. Keeping his larger build in mind, Osmund drilled Ulreik in many of the basic sword techniques taught to fresh recruits. Ironically, it was a place of death that Ulreik would truly find the most growth for himself.

Many years would pass, and soon, Ulreik's nineteenth birthday would come closer and closer. Having spent much of his coffers on a set of hand-me-down armor, a battery shield, and an old sword, Ulreik would prepare himself to face his curse head-on.

Going Forward

Beyond potentially getting revenge on the bandits who had slain his father, Ulreik truly desires to overcome his supposed curse. He wishes to rise above it, and to not let it control his life any longer. That being said, he's not quite sure how to go about it. There is always following Osmund's steps and joining up at Pallaviel, himself... But they wouldn't want a cursed recruit, now would they? Maybe he could also become a scout, staying on the outskirts of the battle rather than in the heart of it? Or perhaps he should just be a simple sellsword, dedicated to no cause but his own, so that his curse would not drag down anyone else...

In other words, Ulreik has not completely thought this through. At the very least, he'd like somewhere where he could belong, somewhere where his curse wouldn't trouble the lives of others. The dead make good company for this, but aren't quite the best when it comes to striking conversations with. That being said, he does not wish to merely abandon his past. If he ends up working as a gravedigger again, then so be it. He will continue to carry the memories of all those who have fallen. After all, he has not forgotten.

The Epic of Beginnings - Fragments of a weathered scroll

Shigenaga Nomura
Macar-Oni and Cheese

@Rune_Alchemist

Nomura stroked his beak at the plan of these dastardly hunters, intrigued at their thought process. Of course, it all made sense. Implicating this Kyrnith in the death of this village's leader would put the Elder Beast in a bad light. This would then draw the majority towards the worship of the Illuminator, giving the cult more power. And with the village's combined might, they could also perhaps take away the power the Kyrnith has over the forest, and hunt to their heart's content.

Malphas would have accepted such an outcome. After all, he wasn't too keen on following the laws of some beast. Nomura, however, feared the true strength that such powerful creatures possessed given his childhood. Because of this, some respect for this Kyrnith was warranted.

"Hm... I wonder why they'd do that? Did they wish to turn the entire village against the Kyrnith? If such a being was an Elder Beast, as you said, wouldn't it be able to effortlessly destroy the village should they prove disrespectful? Seems quite counterintuitive if you ask me, unless they also believed they could slay the Kyrnith with the aide of the entire village."

Of course, Nomura was curious of the nature of these Elder Beasts. Were they able to be slain with enough effort? And how much power would be required to face off against one? As curious as he was to see such a battle commence, Nomura knew that avoiding bloodshed was wise at least for the sake of turning a profit.

"Ah, but forgive me for presuming such things, of course. I do wonder, though, if this Illuminator wishes for the destruction of the village with the path these hunters are walking. I presume this god isn't well-received among the common folk?"

Itiner: Heroes of Ardenfeld

Alrighty, character done!

Ulreik of Ardenfeld

D&D Character Sheet

Who I Am

The strong, silent type. Given his (former) profession, it would only make sense that Ulreik is someone who prefers actions to words, as what he lacks in rhetoric and wit, he has in work ethic. That said, it's not like he holds any sort of pride over his work, as he is completely modest with what he does. After all, why would someone be proud of digging graves? It is an honest job, if macabre, but it's not like he's anyone special for doing it.

Believing that he is cursed due to his tragic upbringing, Ulreik prefers to keep others at a distance. It is why he ended up tending graves in the first place. After all, he believes it's better if he hung around the dead over the living. It's because of this that Ulreik has made little friends aside from his fellows from Ardenfeld. In place of interacting with others, however, Ulreik has dedicated much of his focus to improving himself and getting things done. A determination developed by someone who spends too much time alone.

My Story

Even before the attack, Ulreik's life was already filled with tragedy. His mother had died during childbirth, leaving himself and his father on their lonely little farm on a hill. It didn't help that every time it was the day of Ulreik's birth, something bad would happen in the small ranch of theirs. When he turned two, their cattle had gotten sick and were nearly all killed off. When he was four, a terrible famine struck their farm just before the month of harvest. At seven, their barn had been struck by lightning. It was coincidences like these that caused Ulreik's father to call him a cursed child, regretting that he was ever born.

On his ninth birthday, Ulreik's father had sent him to Ardenfeld, a town only a few paces away from the farm, to run some errands. In truth, he had only sent the boy out so his presence wouldn't cause another travesty to happen. Of course, this was the same day of the attack. During the siege of the lowly hamlet, Ulreik had blacked out in the chaos. When he had finally come to, he was surrounded by the other surviving children of his age, mere minutes after the highwaymen had sacked the village.

Believing himself to be truly cursed, Ulreik broke away from the other children as soon as he was able to, running back to his home. It, too, was ablaze. Their crops had been stomped out, their animals dead or taken, and their barn all but destroyed. Ulreik had found his father's body, already bled out, nestled atop the small mound that was his mother's grave. It was such a sight that had finally broken the idea to the boy's mind that he was actually cursed.

When the older survivors had found Ulreik, he was clutching a shovel almost as large as he was, standing in front of two makeshift graves.

Ulreik's time at the Landeil orphanage was as expected. The more superstitious folk shared the same beliefs as the boy's father, believing Ulreik to be a child that would only bring tragedy and death. Many of the other children in the orphanage saw this and used this as enough of a reason to pick on the poor boy. Much like his father's abuse, this bullying was merely another form of penance that Ulreik believed he deserved. Of course, this didn't mean he wouldn't fight back.

At the age of thirteen, Ulreik was kicked out, having gotten into far too many physical altercations with the other children. With nowhere else to go, Ulreik had gone back to the only place he had known, back to his father's ranch. When he returned, Ulreik was surprised to see that it had turned to a new graveyard. What was once a place where life is cultivated had now turned into a land where the dead would have their final rest. Ulreik would soon find the place where his mother and father were buried, now a part of a mass grave dedicated to those who lost their lives during that fateful day in Ardenfeld.

Believing that the dead should at least have some form of memorial other than merely being buried together, Ulreik had made his way to the groundskeeper's abode, finding it empty but unlocked. Procuring some tools and a pair of planks, the boy would fashion a makeshift memorial, listing the date of the attack as well as a few harrowing words.

"We have not forgotten."

When the graveyard's groundskeeper, a wizened halfling, had returned, he would see the boy resting near the mass grave, tired boh from his work as well as his journey from Sarinan. The halfling dragged the boy back to his home, waiting for him to awaken. When Ulreik had come to, the halfling first scolded the boy for using tools not belonging to him before complimenting him on his handiwork. Introducing himself as Osmund, he gave the young Ulreik an offer soon after finding out that he had no place to go: help him tend the graves in exchange for room, board, and maybe a wage if he does a good enough job.

And so, Ulreik began his work as a gravedigger, tending to the very same lands his father had done years before. He would learn many things from Osmund, from boarding up a grave template to properly sawing out a casket. He also learned other skills from the halfling's past life as well. Osmund was not a stranger to death even before he became a grave tender, having served in the Pallaviel military as a scout. Keeping his larger build in mind, Osmund drilled Ulreik in many of the basic sword techniques taught to fresh recruits. Ironically, it was a place of death that Ulreik would truly find the most growth for himself.

Many years would pass, and soon, Ulreik's nineteenth birthday would come closer and closer. Having spent much of his coffers on a set of hand-me-down armor, a battery shield, and an old sword, Ulreik would prepare himself to face his curse head-on.

Going Forward

Beyond potentially getting revenge on the bandits who had slain his father, Ulreik truly desires to overcome his supposed curse. He wishes to rise above it, and to not let it control his life any longer. That being said, he's not quite sure how to go about it. There is always following Osmund's steps and joining up at Pallaviel, himself... But they wouldn't want a cursed recruit, now would they? Maybe he could also become a scout, staying on the outskirts of the battle rather than in the heart of it? Or perhaps he should just be a simple sellsword, dedicated to no cause but his own, so that his curse would not drag down anyone else...

In other words, Ulreik has not completely thought this through. At the very least, he'd like somewhere where he could belong, somewhere where his curse wouldn't trouble the lives of others. The dead make good company for this, but aren't quite the best when it comes to striking conversations with. That being said, he does not wish to merely abandon his past. If he ends up working as a gravedigger again, then so be it. He will continue to carry the memories of all those who have fallen. After all, he has not forgotten.

Sorry for the extensive backstory. I really need to work on condensing my writing...

That said, I do plan to extend the Going Forward section a bit more when we have a more solidified cast, just to see if we can link any backstories. For the time being, I don't think Ulreik has made any effort in contacting the other children due to obvious reasons, but he still does remember the promise he has made with them, and took it seriously.

The Epic of Beginnings - Fragments of a weathered scroll

Shigenaga Nomura
Macar-Oni and Cheese

@Rune_Alchemist

Nomura was instantly annoyed at this fox, especially given that she is able to pierce his very thoughts. Does it go both ways? Whether it did or didn't, Nomura would think of a video he watched in his past life involving the fur industry and an organization that rhymes with "beata." It did make sense that Mie sent a spy after him, but did it really have to be someone so annoying?

"Unlike you, I am not a petty thief! I'm simply holding onto it because I saw a dubious little creature getting up to mischief." Nomura stated, waving his finger in front of Ayumi's little fox snout.

"Still, you being here is useful... I'm sure you've overheard the conversation Bolcha and I were having. Enli's life is in danger, and he's interested in hiring one of Lady Mie's oni. Now, I'm not aware if I'm even able to authorize such a transaction, but I'm sure something could be arranged..."

Nomura looked back to the longhouse, then back at Ayumi, an idea coming to mind.

"Tell you what... relay this offer to Lady Mie for me, and I'll see if I can get you a new fish. How does that sound?"

Whatever Ayumi would respond, Nomura would make his way back towards the longhouse, extending a hand- and Enli's delivery- to Bolcha.

"I believe you are to be trusted. Now, how about we continue to talk about the situation regarding Enli? Perhaps we can come to some sort of arrangement, oni or not."

Brilliant Fake Kaleidoscopic Prism

---

_{Mentions:@Kamen Evie@Yankee@banjoanjo@sassy1085@Bubsy 2}

Jun grinned at his widely amassed crew, arms crossed in confidence as he gazed upon the group he had gathered. Some were... more questionably attired than others, but he could tell there was some sort of spirit in all of them. His ship would confirm just as much, after all. With its robotic voice, it would keep count of the number of "magical persons" entering the ship as they did, almost as it was taking a toll. Another voice booming through the bay, however, would bring a visible strain on Jun's face.

"I was just about to do that, you kung-fu brat..." Jun said to himself, with annoyance. "Judging by my calculations, no, you were not." The ship had replied, aloud. Getting even more exasperated, Jun stomped and punched on the Argo's wheel, shouting various obscenities involving finding a bottle big enough to fit "this lousy piece of firewood" in.

Of course, when Jun remembered once more that he had company, his demeanor had shifted once more to Grand Admiral "J."

"Yaaahoy~!" Jun said with terribly broken English, saluting the four as they made themselves more comfortable in the Argo. "Sadly, the ship didn't come with cannons, but with our combined firepower, we'll be able to take care of that torii in no time! Just gotta pick up one more pe-"

The yokai's combined attacks at the ship had thrown Jun off-guard, almost causing him to fall on his own behind. Catching his bearings, Jun looked around to see the ship being swarmed, with potential attacks from a rather enterprising group of yokai stacking themselves together.

"It seems we are being attacked."

"No ship, Sherlock! We need them off our tail! Release the boarding plank!"

"I do not believe that is wi-"

Before the boat could complete its protest, Jun pulled a wooden lever next to the Argo's wheel (was there always a lever there?) as he had activated his magic once more. Unlike other magical children, Jun's abilities were centered upon the Argo. While Jun himself was barely capable of utilizing his powers on his own, it is through his ship that he truly shines. Capable of summoning not only his ship but the many parts of it, it could be said that Jun's magic encompassed "everything that is contained within the Argo." This magic was limited in scope, and it is because of this that Jun cannot fire any magical projectiles, as the Argo indeed did not have any cannons at the time it was sailing.

That said, it did possess a massive gangplank. As it extended from the side of the boat, it swung swiftly, batting away the roiling ball of energy like a baseball before slamming into the tower of monsters trying to board. Seeing as the rest of the magical children were taking care of the other surrounding yokai, Jun would guide his boat through the icy bay, propelling it with his own magical power almost like a jet. Of course, the gangplank would also drag through the ice, once more smashing into any yokai on the way.

"We've got one more of ours to pick up! Get ready for a bumpy ride!" Jun shouted as he kept the ship steadily across the bay, flying towards a certain witch. The boarding plank would be hanging on the side for her to jump on.

"Hey, miss Witch! Think those cocktails of yours would be better suited up here with us!"

Whether Jasmine- or anyone else- chose to board or not, the Argo would begin to take to the skies once more, reaching full speed.

"Opening detected. Focus on my coordinates..." The boat had stated, before directing Jun and the others towards the opening left by the biker's bike.

"You heard the thing! Fire at will! Show them just who the hell we really are!"

Dungeons & Dragons: Itiner -- 5E

Yahallo!

Fate/Profane Covenant

---

Railyard

---

_{Mentions:@Yankee}

Shinichi yawned, standing atop a rusted railcar in the quieter parts of Fuyuki's rail-yard. The tracks themselves were cut off from any of the main train routes, and were filled with abandoned cars. Why Shinichi had climbed one was nobody's business, really. Perhaps he wanted a better vantage point to spot any opposition, or maybe he just wanted to stand above the unkept masses who made their homes in these railcars.

Speaking of those unkept masses...

"Feel free to eat up until you're satisfied, Berserker. These malcontents are naught but a blight to this city, anyway." Shinichi stated with disdain, looking towards a plume of smoke not too far off, emitting from a flaming barrel surrounded by vagrants. A look of disdain washed over his face. "I'm sure there are others hiding around, as well. Like rats, really. Be sure to check every nook and cranny."

As Berserker was let loose, the Matou heir began to get to work as well. He clutched his staff in his right hand, softly waving it in the sky and allowing the bell atop it to ring a gentle song. As he had done so, dozens of larvae would begin to fall down from Shinichi's right pants leg. As they squirmed around on the ground, Shinichi would bend over to pick a handful of them up, softly soothing them like they were his mere infants.

Shinichi would then crush the worms together, molding and shaping them like clay until they took on the form of winged lifeforms. Even with one hand, the Matou was able to shape their flesh with ease, their forms made perfect up to the very detail. Their membranous wings would flutter lightly as many large, almost human-like eyes would open around their bodies. Familiars made with the purpose of scanning out the rest of the area.

Shinichi had a feeling that the ruckus Berserker would cause might draw some attention, after all.

Enter: Into an Isekai World

---

Whatever berries were left would find themselves stuffed in Junichiro's jacket pocket as he prepared to move on ahead towards the direction of the waterfall. The familiar feeling of the pot lid was comforting to a degree, the mere act of lifting it reminding the young man of a happier time when he was a mere youth. The pleasant feeling of sharing a hot pot with loved ones. With Kaoru. Junichiro clutched the pot lid tightly as if it were his conviction in a tangible form. He would resolve to live, to power through whatever ill-fortuned situation he found himself in until he reached civilization once more.

It'd also probably help if his clothes didn't smell like piss.

Junichiro marched towards the waterfall, clutching the pot lid in front of him like some sort of makeshift shield in one hand, and his false firearm in the other. He looked ridiculous, really, like some sort of child playing pretend with cutlery and toys. Still, the false sense of safety his ensemble entailed was enough for him to continue forward.