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Varanense Malx
5’6 | 147 lbs | Human


Personality
Varanense’s a lackadaisical individual with a dry sense of humor and a propensity for lying for no real reason. Carefree and irreverent, he alternates between blinding optimism and crushing pessimism on the drop of the hat, often preferring to play as the foil for other people around him. Advocating the devil is sorta his deal, after all, and the young man simply wants to take it easy and enjoy himself. Others can push against the flow of society and change the world with their ideals and their comrades, but Varanense is just there to enjoy whatever fortune has in store for him. Contrary to his austere appearance, this adventurer is full of small vices, fully intent on enjoying the good times before they inevitably take a turn for the worse.

That’s why he relaxes so much, after all. So when bad luck strikes with a vengeance and when the Dungeon rears its ugly head to swallow his allies whole, lazy, carefree Varanense will still be in peak condition to play such high-stakes games.

Backstory
Fame and fortune, bitches and riches. While some adventurers may seek to delve into the depths of the dungeon for a nobler pursuit, Varanense is just there because he enjoys the freedom it affords him and the fairness of it all. Within monster-infested depths, the only thing that matters is how skilled you are, after all. No lineage gives you a greater advantage, no wealth can substitute hard work, and no luck lasts forever. People rise to the top through competence rather than the purity of their blood, and Varanense finds that rather charming and pleasant.

He ran away from home early on as well, switching from being the next Lord of the Verdant Abyss to being just an adventurer under a weird God. And damn, though shit continues to be rough and hard and annoying, his shoulders have never felt lighter, even when he’s dragging a sack full of crystals back to the surface. His efforts have meaning, and each day’s pleasures and pains is built upon the last.

Of course, that hasn’t stopped him from being an indolent slacker.
Slight warning that Nemesis's pic may not be safe for parents lurking in the background of your room.

Went for the whole 'relic from a technologically advanced but ancient and forgotten civilization' idea. If it doesn't fit with the ancient lore of Azure though, I'll figure something else out, maybe.

I'll keep an eye on this. Like the vibes n all.
Someone had to make it. I'm just glad it wasn't me.
How much of it was luck, and how much of it was skill? The axe slammed deep but drew no blood, Muu rolling off to the side in the nick of time. Pulling back, the undead warrior wrenched his weapon free from the ground, but she was already in motion before he could unleash a second strike. Roll back, contract, and kick. Like a spring, Muu shot out, the force of her kick unable to do anything more than superficial damage to the undead warrior, but certainly able to knock him away. Rotted boots scraped against the slippery terrain, as he fell on his back, scrambling to get up again while the Bladedancer rose up as well.

It was time to recover, time to put what she had trained for into practice. Time t-

“ASH!”

Gwyn’s strained voice resounded sharply through the battlefield as heavy drops of blood splattered upon the ice, frosting over into an inappropriately-pretty pink.

It was no simple feat to catch a blade, and even when just trying to misdirect it, it was hard. The fear made one quake, the inexperience made one inaccurate, the speeds made harder. Hot, searing pain shot up Ash’s hands as she struck the side of the sword, the first digit of her right ring finger torn right off, bouncing off the ice and falling somewhere. The tip of the sword sliced into her side, what armor she had wholly insufficient for warding off such a blow, and the effect was as if all the bile in her stomach was suddenly rising up. Such pain was nauseating, even through the mind-numbing adrenaline that coursed into her body.

But she wasn’t dead. If she wasn’t dead, she could heal. If she didn’t stop, she could keeping moving. With bleeding hands, Ash grabbed on, grappling to the best of her ability, starbursts of agony punctuated by each strike that landed onto her. Knees to her stomach, elbows to her back, a headbutt to her skull, a pummeling delivered by bone and metal, her vision darkening and darkening.

And then there was light.

The skeletal form that she clung onto dissolved into white ash, revealing Gwyn behind, her palms glowing with holy light. Ash fell into the priest’s embrace, as words of healing were sung into her ears, pushing back the darkness that threatened to take her consciousness.

One down.

In the distance, Ettamri’s monstrous strength manifested in a blow that pulverized spear, shield, armor and bone, crippling another undead warrior beyond its ability to fight properly. Immaculate and beyond reproach, the white knight proved once more that she was leagues beyond anyone else here.

Two down.

More healing prayer seeped into her body, vanishing fractured bones and damaged organs as if it were nothing, and within moments, Ash was able to stand on her own two feet, woozy but otherwise unharmed. Still alive. As awful as a nightmare, but she was still alive.

“Don’t do that again,” the masked priest said, turning away to face the undead mage that continued their wordless, soulless chant. “Luck only takes you so far, Ash. It’s better if you learned how to run away.”

The time for words was over.

Ten thousand pinpricks rushed up over her body at once, the premonition of danger rising to the boiling point as her Sword bared its teeth. Before her, the eyes of the Horror opened up, unnatural pupils dilating as magical power shot from 0 to 100 in an instant. In the next, malevolent lasers lanced out, blindingly fast, oppressively powerful.

But none of them hit their mark, and, like the thunder that rolled in seconds after lightning, the hissing and crackling of carbonized flesh resounded through the crypt.

A counter-attack taken in pre-initiative, like placing a fist in path of someone’s face. Though the Sword, bloodthirsty and undying, was a savage weapon that sought only to sate its endless carnal desires, the Wielder made such power artful. In the milliseconds between the charging and firing of the lasers, the Knight of Rose aligned her mirrored edge intercept the beams, reflecting them onto the fleshy mass that charged erupted. Light was faster than lightning, but the mind of the Knight of Rose surpassed even that. Smoke rose from her Silverlight, yet the beauty of the polished rapier remained unmarred.

A flick of the wrist blew away even that lingering smoke, revealing the buxom fencer in all her arrogant allure, her eyes locking onto the new arrivals.

“Neophytes of this blasted encounter, allow your eyes not to linger upon the visage of the Infinite Abyss. Grotesque as they are, they are misdirection rather than true villainy, for the monstrosity that shall spill unto this plane if the Horror’s ritual completes is many volumes greater a threat than the tentacular mass before you! Salvation is found in the destruction of this eldritch performance, not of the shadow of a Horror!”
@DarkwolfX37@Crusader Lord@Flamelord@The World
Sara couldn’t help but chuckle at the sheer amount of shenanigans that gravitated around the Emperor, her teeth flashing as everyone took their turns at unsubtly harassing Yuudai. It was getting to the point of being a bit rude though, and she was seeing now how the group was fragmenting, all centered around the long-eared self-proclaimed ruler. Off on one side, those who were totally done with the rest of the group formed their miniature adult-circle. Other quasi-bullies no doubt derived enjoyment from bullying Yuudai and would probably be bundled up together pretty well. And then there were those who decided the best method of moving forward was to just ignore everything except for Aloe and the Receptionist lady.

“Eyup,” Sara chirped, smacking the elf on the back as rabbit-man and Astrum dispersed to follow after the receptionist, “You’re definitely not short, Yuu. Unlike those two, you got a good couple years more to grow bigger, right? Just eat well, exercise well, and soon enough, you’ll be the one patting them on the head.”

Though considering how blush-y Astrum was, he’d probably enjoy it regardless, hm?

A secretive smile surfaced, before the green-haired dwarf headed on over, listening to the whole explanation on a whole buncha things. It felt a bit long-winded, but she did gasp appreciatively at the ball of fire that popped out of nowhere when the receptionist spoke up. That was pretty cool, and in a way, more reasonably impressive than Aloe’s space-portal-warp thingy. Enflame, hm? Sara nodded along, mulling that nugget of information over. Verbal and Focus Casting, Skill Acquisition, and Stamina. Nice and simple.

Less simple was the task presented before them: equipping themselves with whatever was appropriate. While some people had it easy (gunners just take guns, while mages and rogues didn’t seem to want for anything at all), Sara spent a good long while by the racks of second-hand equipment, trying everything out carefully. Her clothes no longer fit, after all, so she needed something practical for everyday wear as well. And if she was expected to be on the front, then it only made sense that she also take all the armor she could, right? Sara wasn’t greedy, but if she was expected to save the world from the darkness, well…

Gotta get freebies while she could.

Boots came first, and thank god they were the hardy type, like construction boots. Greaves were next, and after some fumbling around, she found a pair that used laces rather than belts and buckles to tie things together. It was definitely a weird feel, but Sara had banged her shins against tables before, and that was NEVER a good feel. The metal knee guards she found were a bit banged up and definitely her fit though, and with disappointment lingering in her expression, she let it go free, back into the bin.

As she did though, the rustling of chain caught her attention, and Sara immediately zoomed forth to pull a hidden treasure out. A chainmail shirt that largely fit around her! The bottom was a bit loose, but she could tie it down with rope or something. And it was flexible too! What more could one ask for, really? Worming her way into it, Sara was just about to equip it on completely when a stinging pain burst out on her scalp. Wait, no, not just one sting, but several, the agony of hair getting caught in links of metal. She winced, she bit her lips, she did a weird dance, she regretted every life decision that brought her here, and after ‘augmenting’ the dull gray armor piece with some strands of green, the dwarf girl managed to get it off. A toque, that’s what she needed.

Cloth headguards were easy to come by, thankfully, and round two worked fairly well, her hair spared further distress. But now, it was her bare skin that was chaffing against chain, and with a bit-back curse (who knew which of these adult-looking people were children on the inside, right?), Sara struggled out again, massaging places on her body that had been scratched by the gritty metal. Armor wasn’t comfortable, yes, but that didn’t mean it had to be painful, right?

Good news came in the form of padded linen jackets though, long, hefty coats that split at the bottom so one could stretch their legs out and all. It was a bit distressing that there were so many child-sized armor pieces lying around the training ground’s freebie bin, but…dwarves existed. Surely there weren’t ACTUAL 4’9 kids running into the wilderness to kill monsters? Or maybe a monster-infested world just meant that everyone wore armor, just to stay safe, regardless of whether or not they were the fight-y types. Like how helmets were worn when biking, and seatbelts were worn when driving.

Once the padded jacket was slipped into, the rest came easily. Chainmail went over the gambeson, leather gloves and armbraces served to provide greater protection for her hands, the cloth headguard filled in the gaps within the barbute, and then…

Sara definitely got a shield. What was the point of walking into the frontlines of a fight without a shield? And with her small size, even small shields were sorta big. She opted for a wooden one, circular and reinforced with steel. The weapon was a bigger thing to consider though. While the dwarf girl was definitely stronger than she looked, her armor weirdly not weighing her down at all, it was still a pain in the ass to find the right sort of weapon for herself. Sara was confident that she COULD do stupid things like using a two-handed sword like a one-handed one, but at the same time, she had no idea how to use a sword to begin with. Heck, she didn’t really know how to effectively use most of these swing-y weapons.

So she went for the spear instead. No edge alignment, no particular technique. Just point and stab.

Easy. Cool. Now all that remained was to test everything else out.

“Heyo,” Sara called out, waving her spear in the air, "Anyone wanna fight?"


A Horror was nothing more than a Horror.

That’s all they were, that’s all they would ever be. Capricious miscreants sitting upon their twisted thrones, disdaining mortality while stagnating in the eternity of their domains. Some were more intelligible than others, some were more reasonable than the others, but ultimately, all of them were merely pretending. Their nature was incorrigible, their sin unabsolvable. Monster girls stemmed from a human core. Dark magical girls still shared a common blood. But Horrors by definition were cosmic terrors, harbingers of whatever death they represented.

So Amaryllis, regardless of Soth’s soothsaying, did not allow herself the respite of relief.

This was a monster that would devour its devout for nothing more than a moment of amusement, one that spoke so eloquently, so majestically, but one that had no core within. Intelligence, but with no principles to guide it. The way it warped the cultists out of existence was grotesque. The way it manifested itself from the inky blackness was disturbing. The way it exuded an aura of power was revolting. But that was all. Nothing but a B-grade monster from a schlocky horror movie.

All the Knight of Rose felt was a wall of nails pressed against her back, her Sword urging her forward, to never retreat. One backstep would mean more, and even against the half-hearted partial manifestation of a Horror, Amaryllis could not allow her conviction to flag.

She chuckled instead, bravado surfacing with the flashing of her canines. “A dozen lives was the price to pay for your advent, Soth? Laughable. I’ve seen Puchuus prostitute themselves out for more than that.”

Her Sword chimed through the dead air of the crypt, carving a line into the stone.

“No wonder you’d want to crawl into the body of a little girl. In this day and age, no one’s interested in an overgrown octopus.”

Rusted roses bloomed and wilted, the deathly cycle captured in the unliving.

“Maiden, I shall trust you with the disruption of your former master’s ritual, for your mystic arts far outstrip my own. There is no need to split, no need to engage. On my sword and on my soul, I shall defend you to the last.”

In this moment, after all, Amaryllis was still a knight.
@Crusader Lord
Hm…sounded like there was a lot of friction and snark between everyone, huh? Felt just like work. Sara sideeyed the cute, extra-huggable elf girl who seemed weirdly incensed about not being first, as well as the cowboy gunman who took more verbal shots than actual shots, before finally shrugging.

“Thanks bud,” the green-haired girl said instead, smiling at Toppo. “And I’m…eh, I’ll figure it out later. Call me whatever you want, as long as it’s something you’d call a friend.”

She dropped a wink then, before reaching out to grab the big furry moose man by the arm, running her fingers through it. It was certainly warm, but more than that, it felt…dense and prickly. Really tough, even. Definitely not the sort of fur one would want to skin and then sleep in. But it was oddly satisfying, and the dwarf girl nodded at the end of the experience. “Thanks Toppo! I’d offer the same, but that’d be weird.”

With that, she turned her attentions to the next curiosity: the squirrel girl with the big fluffy tail. Homing in like a shadow-assassin badass, Sara was about to proposition the hyper-active beastwoman with something she couldn’t refuse, but before they could do anything wild, they were already there. A grand guild, and an Aloe who was certainly more rambunctious than she first thought. What a rascal, that elf man was!

Most of what the receptionist said went way over Sara’s head though. It sounded like they were going to be…oh, this was like Harry Potter!

Squirrel girl dove in first, snatching a card to make a claim to the emperor’s throne, and Sara moved immediately after. There was a temporary burst of static that shot up her arm as she touched the crystal, then vibrating warmth in the blank card she held, before BAM there it was! Script filled the card as if it were magic, but Sara turned to squirrel girl instead with an easy smile.

“Hey now, that’s a hasty assumption, ain’t it,” she said, shooting a wink in the direction of the elf girl, “I’m sure Yuudai’s let us go first cause she’s the boss. We’re the ones that gotta send in our resumes n all, not her, right, Yuu? ...anyways, mine says I'm a Warrior, so...oh hey, I can vault? Sounds pretty rad!”
@OwO@o3o@Firestorm
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