DoubleChecker

[IC][Ryke] Adventurer's Guild Posting: Dungeon Diving

Percival - [Variant - Intermediate], Educated [Lord], Wanted By [The Emerald Slavers - West Empire] - f7941d
Xian-Fu - [Beast] - ed1c24

The hunter's eyes narrowed behind the monocled lenses, seeing both the mundane shell and the ethereal arrow being interrupted before reaching their target. "Insistent little bugger, aren't you?" Percival muttered as his iron sights were kept leveled at the staff-wielding skeleton, catching the corpses being brought back whole once more by the periphery of his gaze.

"The one who holds the staff, that one should be the focus!" Xian-Fu snarled, blade glinting towards the caster. "Being made into bone meal will most certainly deal with its grunts and minions."

"Quite right. Taking out the Alpha first is always the opening of a successful hunt." Percival's gaze slid to the side, looking at his companions through the side of his eye. "Some of you focus on the lesser skeletons, lest they overrun our position. You included, Xian-Fu."

The plan earned a nod from the tigress, who once more charged in [Xian-Fu - Action 1], slashed her blade with excessive force against one of the newly formed skeletons [Xian-Fu - Action 2], then quickly disengaged with a jump backward. [Xian-Fu - Action 3]

The hunter, on the other hand, having kept his aim true, fired once. [Percival - Action 1] Deft hands worked on loading a new cartridge into the feeding chamber of the rifle, the bolt being brought back and then slammed forward in a hurry. A second shot was fired soon after. [Percival - Action 2]

And, after reloading once more, Percival's aim shifted towards the one protruding stone at the wall. The sprawling mustache curled with his lips in a smile. "Let's see you predict this..." Once more his finger squeezed the trigger, this time around the projectile flied against the stone. The bullet didn't just 'hit' the stone, it sang. A high-pitched whistle as the lead deformed against the ancient masonry, dancing off the walls in a lethal game of billiards before ricocheting once, twice, and thrice before flying towards the skeletal mage at an awkward angle. [Percival - Action 3]

The barrel of his rifle sizzled after the third shot, faint traces of gunpowder rising from the very tip.

Actions:
[Percival - Action 1] - Basic Attack - 5 Base Effectiveness
[Percival - Action 2] - Basic Attack - 5 Base Effectiveness
[Percival - Action 3] - Kill Shot - Fighting Style [Guns] E + Range E + Indirect E + Steady Hands E - Percival's fires a round from his rifle with effectiveness up to 30ft, without needing to aim, which ricochets and ignores cover - Grade E 1 Post Cooldown

CDs: E 0/1

[Xian-Fu - Action 1] - Move in 20ft
[Xian-Fu - Action 2] - Colossal Strike - Superstrength F - Grade F 0 Post Cooldown - Strength D (3) + Skinning Blade E (2) + Ability F (1) - 6 Base Effectiveness
[Xian-Fu - Action 3] - Retreat 20ft

CDs: E 1/1

[The Beastkin Republic] Will They Know Respite?

Itsy

​
Titles:
Beastkin - Mundane, Small (4ft) - 6ecff6

It seemed that, for the moment, the most immediate threat had been dealt with. Itsy's pupils were already blown wide, the fear and excitement of combat pumping adrenaline through his veins. The small beast was hopping from one foot to the other, snow crunching beneath him as he tried to keep himself mobile. "B-better to let them come closer... than to charge them..." He murmured, perhaps to KaMara or more to himself. His rapier would zoom every so often, slashing the air in front of him, as he kept himself prepared.

[Aslan - The Grand Duchy] The Starry Entrance

Equipped Titles: [Isekai], [Human], [Adept Magus], [Ethereal Luminary Academy Student] F, [Magno Sapiente Victori - Grand Magus S] E, Narrative Booster [Arcane Seeker] S, Connected [House Ashford] F, [El-Melloi's Scion]

As soon as the anchor for team magenta was announced, the young magus made himself known. He stepped forward, easily recognizing the group by their magenta bracelets. The same one he was wearing. The clicking of the heel of his shoes came to a sharp stop as soon as he was a few paces from the group, the youth was no taller than 4'7". Adelhein’s gaze on them was analytical, as if measuring their worth even before the exam itself had began. He kept the appraising gaze for a few more moments, caring little if it made them uncomfortable.

“Ichabod, Sa’Saori and Alicia.” He repeated their names, letting his crimson orbs slide from one to the other. “I’m sure your entrance exam will be… enlightening.” The corner of his lips curled upward, ever so slightly, as he leaned towards them. “This is the moment where you share your specialties with one another.” He said, his tone dropping to a conspirational whisper, before straightening his back.

[Aslan - The Grand Duchy] The Starry Entrance

The Grand Induction Hall remained quiet after Proctor Roffimières finished his initial address. The floating crystal array above continued its slow rotation, scattering soft constellations of light across the marble floor and the assembled candidates. No one spoke. The stillness of the chamber held, as if the hall itself were observing the students gathered within it.

Roffimières allowed the silence to linger for a few moments longer before adjusting the small lens upon his nose. His gaze swept calmly across the platform.

Proctor Roffimières

“Curious,” he said at last, his tone measured and almost amused. “In most examinations, candidates are eager to declare themselves. Names, titles, lineage. Yet today it seems the Luminary has gathered a group more inclined toward quiet contemplation.”

A few of the other assembled candidates shifted slightly at the remark.

“No matter. The academy is quite capable of resolving such matters.”

With a gentle motion of his hand, the crystal floating beside him brightened. Thin strands of light lifted from its surface and spread outward across the platform like delicate threads of mana.

“Candidates will now be organized into examination cohorts.”

The light condensed suddenly.

Across the platform, small bands of glowing crystal materialized out of thin air. They snapped gently into existence around the wrists of various candidates, fastening themselves without resistance. Each bracelet shimmered with a distinct color, faint runic sigils circulating along its surface like drifting fireflies.

“Groups will consist of three candidates,” Roffimières continued. “Each cohort will operate as a single unit throughout the trial.”

Names began to echo softly through the chamber as the proctor called them out, each trio receiving bracelets of the same hue. A murmur rippled through the crowd as candidates glanced at the colors forming around their wrists.

Then three more bands of light appeared, glowing with a soft magenta hue before settling firmly around three wrists.

Roffimières’ voice followed a moment later.

“Ichabod Pipton. Sa'Saori Gilderleaf. Alicia Medusozoa.”

The magenta sigils along their bracelets stirred faintly.

“You will form Group Magenta.”

More names followed after them. One trio after another was assembled as bracelets of amber, teal, violet, and gold manifested across the platform until every candidate had been placed into a cohort.

When the final group had been assigned, Roffimières raised a finger slightly.

“One final detail.”

His voice carried calmly through the hall.

“Each group will be accompanied by a veteran student of the Luminary. These individuals will act as anchors during the examination. They are not present to solve your challenges, but to ensure the integrity of the trial.”

He turned a page within the floating tome beside him.

“Group Magenta.”

A brief pause followed before the name was spoken.

“Your anchor will be Adelhein El-Melloi von Breyer, known within the academy as the Iron Magus.”

[Aslan - The Grand Duchy] The Starry Entrance

The Grand Induction Hall of the Ethereal Luminary rests high within the central spire of the academy, a vast circular chamber suspended in open air and light. The floor is polished marble threaded with slow-moving sigils that drift like gentle currents beneath the surface. Above, a great crystalline array floats in deliberate rotation, its many facets scattering star-like motes across the tall walls of the hall. The light shifts softly across tiers of seating that rise in graceful arcs, while narrow balconies near the vaulted ceiling hold silent observation galleries.

Candidates have gathered upon the central platform, each having passed through the Luminary’s gates and the quiet scrutiny of its wards. The atmosphere is calm, almost reverent. Nothing here feels rushed. The academy moves with the patience of something that has stood for centuries.

A tall figure in deep academic robes steps forward at the edge of the platform.

Proctor Roffimières is an older man, his white hair and beard neatly kept, small spectacles resting upon the bridge of his nose. Threads of constellation-like embroidery shimmer faintly across his vestments, and in his hands floats a clear geometric crystal whose interior glows with faint starlight. His voice carries easily through the chamber, measured and precise.

Proctor Roffimières

“Welcome, candidates. You stand within the Grand Induction Hall of the Ethereal Luminary. Today’s trial will determine whether you possess the clarity of thought, composure, and discipline required to study within these halls.”

As he speaks, the crystal array above the platform rotates slowly, casting shifting patterns of light across the floor.

“The examination you are about to undertake will take place within the Astral Vestibule, a controlled dimensional environment designed for evaluation. Harmonization wards within that space will regulate excessive magical output. This ensures fairness among all participants.”

Roffimières closes the small tome floating beside him with a soft gesture.

“You will have a moment before the trial begins.”

The hall remains quiet, waiting. Candidates now have the opportunity to present themselves before the Luminary’s examination truly begins.

[IC][Ryke] Adventurer's Guild Posting: Dungeon Diving

Percival - [Variant - Intermediate], Educated [Lord], Wanted By [The Emerald Slavers - West Empire] - f7941d
Xian-Fu - [Beast] - ed1c24

Suddenly, it was revealed what the chamber ahead housed.

Percival’s eyes naturally glinted towards the runic, embroidered door. His instincts screamed at him, prodding that whatever was behind it was worth a pretty penny. He grinned as smoke left the smoking pipe. “Bounty.”

“But not unguarded.” Xian-Fu growled, being the first of the pair to notice the scrambling skeletons; her master’s greedy grin was mirrored in her own lips, yet her sharp, smug grin was one that craved action instead. “No objections to dealing with them.” She answered Astra’s question with a bestial growl.

“Walking corpses? My word!” Percival’s raised eyebrow told everything about his surprise; his monocled eye was brought to the back of the rifle, lining the iron sight against a group of the skeletons away from Astra. “Insisting on shambling about, how disgraceful! Good thing I always load a ‘special’ shell first, yes, yes?” Carrying the conversation, just as if he were talking about the bad weather, he squeezed the trigger of his rifle. [Percival - Action 1]

The bullet left the barrel in a gunpowder puff of smoke, targeting a possible group of undead, ready to blow up in a 5ft Area, releasing shrapnel as it reached its target.

In tandem, Xian-Fu moved in against any skeleton that still hadn’t formed a group with feline grace, the ferocious grin was still kept on her muzzle. [Xian-Fu - Action 1] The heavy blade sang through the air, less a surgical cut and more a crushing blow that aimed to turn ancient ribs into white powder. [Xian-Fu - Action 2] And in the very next moment, she would step backward, disengaging. [Xian-Fu - Action 3]

Percival would bring the bolt of his hunting rifle up and then back; the spent shell would fly from it, brass clattering against the dusty, stony floor. He brought his rifle up again, this time carefully lining it against the skeletal guardian holding the worn staff. He didn't know much about 'aetheric arts', but he knew a shaman when he saw one. [Percival - Action 2] “Better not risk some curse.” He muttered before squeezing the trigger again, firing against the skeleton. [Percival - Action 3]

Actions:
[Percival - Action 1] - Cannister Shot (FLUX) - Fighting Style F (E) + Range E (30ft) + Steady Hands F + Area F (5ft) - F Grade 0 Post Cooldown (Used FLUX to reduce a Fighting Style E ability to F and add Area F to it) - Precision D (3) + Hunting Rifle E (2) + Ability F (1) - 6 Base Effectiveness
[Percival - Action 2] - Take aim at the staff-wielding guardian
[Percival - Action 3] - Basic Attack - 5 Base Effectiveness

[Xian-Fu - Action 1] - Move in 20ft
[Xian-Fu - Action 2] - Colossal Strike - Superstrength E - Grade E 1 Post Cooldown - Strength D (3) + Skinning Blade E (2) + Ability E (2) - 7 Base Effectiveness
[Xian-Fu - Action 3] - Retreat 20ft

[Wickerford - Ryke] An eye for an eye

The First Assault

Jilly vanished into the hat in a wobbling, absurd little ritual of trust, and Fredrick answered it with raw force. He swung once and let her fly.

The throw carried farther than any sane person should have managed. The blue blur arced over the brush and dropped straight onto the nearer archer before the bandit even had time to look properly upward. There was a wet, elastic whump as Jilly crashed into him in a tangle of hat, slime, and surprise. The bowman folded hard into the dirt near the cage, stunned out cold before he could so much as cry warning.

That single impact cracked the camp’s stillness wide open.

Fredrick did not waste the opening. He broke away at once, cutting across the clearing toward the second archer, feet eating ground in long, urgent strides. But the throw had cost him. By the time he closed in, the burst of speed bled out of him; breath hitched, muscles burned, and he stopped just shy of striking distance, close enough to threaten, not close enough to finish.

Garreth moved at the same moment, advancing from the southern edge with sword already in motion. He met the melee bandit near the fire with a veteran’s directness, steel flashing in a low, committed cut. The bandit caught it by instinct more than skill, blade scraping hard against blade, and the deflection turned ugly fast. A return slash slipped in tight and bit Garreth across the side.

Not deep. Enough.

Now the camp was awake. One archer was down, one still standing, and the clearing had gone from tense to violent in the span of a breath.

The camp answers

The camp reacts fast.

The remaining archer at I4 jerks at the sudden violence, then immediately gives ground—backpedaling to G4 where the angle between tent and brush is cleaner. Bow already in hand, he nocks and looses in one practiced motion, sending a hurried shot toward Fredrick at K4 before the red-haired man can fully recover from his sprint. [Incoming 2d4-3 attack]

At nearly the same moment, the melee bandit at H7 breaks toward the center, boots cutting across open dirt to J9. He does not rush blindly at Jilly or the cage—instead he angles for Garreth at K10, trying to catch the old soldier from the side while the clearing is still in disarray.

The bandit already facing Garreth at J10 wastes no time either. Steel flashes low, mean, and close as he presses the veteran head-on, trying to keep him pinned in place long enough for the second melee man to close the trap. [Incoming highest roll 2d4-2 attack from J9 and J10]

By the cage, the watcher at H13 snaps to the real danger at last. He strides to G13, planting himself between Jilly at G12 and the cage gate at G14, then lashes out to drive her back from the bars. It is not subtle work—just brute urgency, the kind of swing meant to buy one more second between rescuer and prisoner. Inside, Marra’s daughter recoils from the iron bars, alive and terrified. [Incoming 2d4-3 attack]

The downed archer near F12 remains crumpled, not rejoining the fight.

Then the tent at E9 stirs.

The flap at E9 parted, and a woman stepped out—not dressed like a ragged marauder, but like someone who understood exactly how much cleaner authority looked when it wore dark wool and fitted leather instead of scraps. Her hair was tied back, her jaw narrow and severe, and a green cord circled one wrist above the hilt of a plain but well-kept saber. One look took in the fallen archer, the breached perimeter, and the strangers in the clearing.

She did not shout.

She only said, cold and clipped, “Kill the old man first.”

[IC][Ryke] Adventurer's Guild Posting: Dungeon Diving

Percival - [Variant - Intermediate], Educated [Lord], Wanted By [The Emerald Slavers - West Empire] - f7941d
Xian-Fu - [Beast] - ed1c24

As the group reached the forked path, Percival's gaze would slowly shift between each of the three options, smoke steadily leaving his smoking pipe. The man would briefly look at Xian-Fu, tilting his head to the right passage, no words needed. He would then crouch down, fingertips touching the stony floor, getting way more personal than a man of his station would usually do so. With a swipe, he brought his fingers right in front of his face, digits rubbing against each other as he analyzed both dust and soot. [Percival - Action 1]

Xian-Fu, on the other hand, took a few steps towards the maw of the right corridor. Her expression hardened, eyebrows furrowed as her nostrils flared, her aim being to catch any particular odor that might come in their direction. [Xian-Fu - Action 1]

"It is all fine and good to have our grenadier in mind, yes, yes. But assuming the path ahead will take us to a deeper floor, which certainly does, should we discard this floor that quickly?" Percival asked while getting up to his feet and holding out his dirty fingers.

The tigress was quick to produce a handkerchief from one of her pockets, and nonchalantly, she approached Percival, wiping the soot and dust off his fingers. "The right path, we should investigate that one first. Just as the elf says, we might find treasure that lesser groups skipped on out of fear of whatever roams that corridor." Finishing her task, the piece of cloth vanished into her pocket. And, with a toothy grin from ear-to-ear, she drew the blade from the sheath.

"Excellently put, Xian-Fu." There was a subtle nod of thanks from him, along with a small smile from his lips. "I'd rather not leave any relic behind. Proper cataloging, in capable hands, is what preserves history."

Having given their own position, Astra's pen and paper were met with a shake of Percival's head. "A tragedy, truly, but we have neither parchment nor pen with which we can write. A pity we didn't get those white chalks at the market. Xian-Fu, do make a note in that marvelous memory of yours: 'Purchase chalk. Also, more of that spicy root blend'." - "Certainly, my lord."

Actions:
Percival - Action 1: The Hunter's Gaze - Survival F + Perception F - Grade F 0 Post Cooldown
Xian-Fu - Action 1: The Valet's Olfaction - Heightened Sense [Smell] F - Grade F 0 Post Cooldown

[IC][Ryke] Adventurer's Guild Posting: Dungeon Diving

Percival - [Variant - Intermediate], Educated [Lord], Wanted By [The Emerald Slavers - West Empire] - f7941d
Xian-Fu - [Beast] - ed1c24

"Mmmm?" Percival hummed, just in time to turn around and see the new joiners, his gaze going over each of them in turn. "Ah, more reinforcements. Capital!" He said, first focused on Talos' gargantuan stature. "You would have made a hell of a grenadier for sure." He nodded to himself, leaning in towards the giant. "The forefront seems to be the ideal place for you, as shock value shouldn't be ignored, yes, yes."

His gaze slowly shifted to Astra, the woman in the skin-tight suit. "You seem to agree about our friend here. Now, about me taking the rear..." Percival allowed his hunting rifle to rest under his arm and atop his forearm. With his free hands, he opened the flap of the leather satchel he carried at his side, producing a smoking pipe and placing the bit between his lips. "... I have no problem with it, if you are sure." A match was struck, the pipe coming alight with plumes of smoke leaving the corner of his lips every once in a while, his tone charged with meaning

"Hah! An archer!" The lord exclaimed in good spirits to Alexander, a smile present on his lips. "Archery does run in the blood of both my countrymen and ancestors. It bring back memories with my grand old time with the Zulus, yes. Arrows didn't fare too well against canister shot, a pity for them." He laughed, positioning himself at the rear of the group. Xian-Fu, who had only observed, did the exact same.

[Wickerford - Ryke] An eye for an eye

The camp holds its shape while the three regroup in the southern brush. Jilly slips back first, Fredrick dropping from the trees a moment later, and Garreth easing in beside them with the quiet steadiness of someone who has spent years reading fights before they start. Ahead, the clearing remains tense but not yet stirred into full alarm: the archer at F12 still watches the cage and open ground, the second at I4 keeps the wider lane, and the cage watcher continues that short, restless route between H13 and G14, never straying far from the gate. The others remain near their positions, wary, but not yet moving like men who know exactly where danger is.

Garreth studies it once, then speaks low. “If you want clean, you take the archers first. If you want fast, you stop thinking about the camp and think only about the girl. Those two are lock on that cage." He points at F12 and H13. "Break that, and you run.” His eyes flick to the central fire. “Do not get bogged down in the middle. That’s where numbers win.”

Then the pressure sharpens.

A black raven cuts down through the trees, wings beating once, twice, before it glides to the ridge of the central tent at E9. It lets out a rough, deliberate croak and hops down through the flap.

Inside the tent, something shifts.

Map info: Each square represents a 5ft distance. Each character has a 3-action economy, which can be used for movement, actions, or abilities. For ease of interpretation, remember to mention coordinates while moving or attacking. Garreth will act as he is told (in varying degrees). Any doubts, feel free to ask!