ERode

Cacophony Concord

There may have been many thoughts going through Ari's head as she dove into the waters again. Or perhaps, there were no thoughts at all, and for all the terror of a dive into the unknown, she was perfectly at peace. No matter her thoughts, however, the end of her journey was punctuated by a splat.

The gaps between the rocks at the bottom of the fall, though large enough to let water flow further into the aquifer that Nyu-Taro's residents would purify and then draw from, were unfortunately not large enough to accommodate a petite catgirl. Thus, with a split-open skull and a broken body, Ari died her second death, and inadvertently stood up the vendor that had been so kind as to start a tab for her.
_@GreenGoat

---

Klein had both levels and a Nuclei, but overconfidence was still the insidious killer that it had always been. His previous encounters with the goblins had been in a group, with both Amulak and Raime providing the ranged attacks necessary to take down the wolves, while everyone else worked in the frontline to spread the damage out. Here though? His intimidating posture and the small tree that he dragged around with him only worked to his disadvantage: there was no way that the goblins were ever going to engage him in close combat.

And so, as mounted archers peppered him with arrows while maintaining an ideal distance utilizing the speed of the wolves, Klein came to the realization that a tank without a backline or potent movement options was really just a sitting duck. Death came soon after, and the goblins ate well that night.
_@Shovel

---

And then, there were three.

But what a perfect three they were. Two frontliners, one who had a Nuclei that made them impossible to budge, and a high-level backliner who was now motivated to max his level as soon as possible. Their rampage through the Thunderstruck Grove, whilst not legendary, was still impressive for such a small party. Banishing ghosts with fists and magic, smashing abominations with justice and avarice, dueling giants with sword and sorcery, the trio of Ames, Amulak, and Magpie grew steadily stronger, racking up loot and EXP as they ventured through the mist-veiled forest. With the mage's crowd control capabilities, Ames was easily able to crush to bloody bits what forest critters there were, racking up a nice body count of different species of rodents, and Amulak's Seeker Chains could even be used to hold the warrior down in a puddle of stagnant water to fulfill the 300 second requirement that Ames was working towards.

The usage of his ankle bells as weapons wasn't all too difficult either, even if more than a few of the bells were dented due to his reckless kicking, and if nothing else, it seemed to have worked out...

...at least until the exhausted party returned to Nyu-Taro's Keystone to check out the requirements, and Ames found out that he hadn't fulfilled any spellcasting requirements at all. Perhaps instruments didn't register as spellcasting implements when one wasn't a bard? It was an oversight, maybe, on the part of the warrior, but on the plus side? For some reason, the 'Die' requirement of the Animist class was filled up! That, of course, made Ames's plans of killing themselves a bit more questionable, but since they were all planning to log-off for the day anyways, a 24 hour timer on logging back in probably wasn't too bad.

And thus, Ames sought his death, hoping that self-murder still counted for the Kegare's murder requirement.

It didn't.
_{@Psyker Landshark@Yankee@OwO}

---

Another day, another grind. Mondays were dreaded, regardless of where one lived, but time marched on into oblivion, and it was the small moments of happiness that got one up. A morning run through a nearby park. Coffee brewed by a lover you hadn't seen for some time. Opportunities to meet up with classmates who may be friends or something more. The promise of rising stocks, of a stronger portfolio. An hour or two of peace, as siblings file out of the house. A social media feed that contained new articles curated to your own interest. Perhaps a new serialization, or a morning talk show. Obligations woke one up and got one out of bed, but it was the small things that kept one moving through the day.

And once the day's humdrum settled down, once dinner was made and eaten, it was nice to recline and relax. Time dilation virtual reality, though harassed by niche researchers as harmful to the 'youth' of the brain, had the pleasant side-effect of lengthening one's leisure time, no matter how many real hours they've put into their work. Friends were pinging friends, and last-minute bathroom breaks were made so accidents didn't need to happen afterwards. FDDs were booted up, the familiar instructions were read out in surround sound, the loading screen began to hum, and you...

...became someone else.

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𝔽𝔸𝕃𝕃𝕊
𝕋ℍ𝔼 𝕎𝕆ℝ𝕃𝔻
𝕋ℍ𝔼 𝔹𝔼𝕃𝕃 𝕊𝔼𝕃𝔼ℂ𝕋𝕊
𝕋ℍ𝔼 ℂ𝕆𝔾𝕊 𝕊ℙ𝕀ℕ
𝕋ℍ𝔼 𝕊ℂ𝔸𝕃𝔼𝕊 𝕊ℍ𝕀𝔽𝕋
𝕋ℍ𝔼 ℙ𝔼ℕ𝔻𝕌𝕃𝕌𝕄𝕊 𝕊𝕎𝕀ℕ𝔾
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《𝔻𝔼𝕊𝕋ℝ𝕌ℂ𝕋𝔼𝔻 𝕎𝕆ℝ𝕃𝔻 𝕄𝔸ℕ𝕀𝔽𝔼𝕊𝕋𝔼𝔻》
《𝔻𝔼𝕊𝕋ℝ𝕌ℂ𝕋𝔼𝔻 𝕎𝕆ℝ𝕃𝔻 𝕊𝕋𝔸𝔹𝕀𝕃𝕀ℤ𝔼𝔻》
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𝕡ℝ𝕆𝕍𝔼 𝕪𝕆𝕌ℝ 𝕝𝕆𝕍𝔼 𝕚𝕊 𝕥ℝ𝕌𝔼

There was a strange buzz at the Keystone Plaza in Nyu-Taro, one that could be sensed immediately as the Immortals manifested. It had been one week since the Rinshan Annihilation Tournament, long enough now that everyone in Horogi knew of the power of the Flamebringer Princess. While the majority of low-leveled players within Nyu-taro had little grasp on the politics of the situation, that didn't mean that they weren't influenced by it. Ryoku-Jo, the clan whom the Flamebringer Princess was affiliated with, could sit pretty, after all, but the Tato-Ie, closest neighboring clan to the Ryoku-Jo and one whom was constantly at odds with the clan they had once split off from was feeling the pressure as a result; none of their Immortals were even in the Top 16, and though dueling ability wasn't the only demonstration of strength, it was significant nonetheless. In a grab for power then, a declaration was made.

The Tato-Ie will invade the Mora-Sho in one week's time. If the Mora-Sho will fight to the last, then so be it, but if they were willing to become a vassal clan to the Tato-Ie and add their Dead Soldiers to the military might of the Tato-Ie, then that would be preferable.

Such news was on the lips of every Rien, from the teashops to the markets. Merchants looked for Immortal escorts and packed up their wares, eager to sell high to the Mora-Sho clan who'd most likely be willing to pay premium for any supplies that could bolster their chances of surviving the invasion. The Tato-Ie were mustering up mercenaries too, not to engage in the invasion efforts themselves, but to serve as a bulwark against a possible attack by the Ryoku-Jo while the main army was southwards. Mora-Sho emissaries in Nyu-Taro were decrying the act as unjustified, but the nature of Horogi was rarely one that lead to righteous conflicts. San-Li had not yet acted yet, but there were whispers too that the Gakui-Re may be planning something before the battles began. Curious jobs that involved the capture, rather than destruction, of certain types of monsters within the Thunderstruck Grove had popped up amongst the wooden planks nailed to the wall, the tsuchigumo and ushi-oni being the most common. It was messy, undoubtedly, but there was a strangely festive energy in all this too.

For the Immortals, after all, this was an event that could do anything from make them famous to making them a profit, and for the Riens, this was much the same. An inter-clan conflict, if it didn't involve the clan that you were a part of, was simply another opportunity.

But for Ames, Amulak, Magpie, Klein, Raime, Lugh, and Ari, could the same be said?

Or were they preoccupied with other matters instead?

Silver Gate Academy [Accepting New Players]

_{@Sho Minazuki}

Morning came, and still, Koyuki wasn't in the room.

Otis stretched his neck as he turned on the hotel's TV, feeling his spine crick and crack this way and that. It had been another long night; after the encounter with that incomprehensibly nimble assassin, the Strigidae had devoted himself to the theorycrafting of new bullets. A successor of the Fairy Bolts series, one that could home in without having a previous mark set up, or perhaps a gravity bullet that subjectively weighed down the one who's in its range. If he had his gun, the whole encounter would've changed for the better, that much was clear. So maybe this time...

His amber eyes centered on the lovingly crafted firearm, before Otis nodded. It was stuffed into his backpack immediately afterwards, folded up with a bunch of other metal objects. So long as he didn't go through an airport or something like that, it should be fine. After all, yesterday he had toured a bunch of places with razor-sharp wakizashis in his pack. Police were probably more interested in his passport than the contents of his pack. Probably.

Otis was willing to gamble on that ambiguous probability. More importantly, however, he had a teacher to catch.

Hitching up his backpack and making sure the straps of his belt pouch were done well, Otis refilled his water bag with tap water, jammed a couple slices of lemon into it to offset that plastic-y taste, and headed downstairs to find Kuuto. There was only one question that needed to be asked of the teacher, after all.

"Two days now, and no sign. Where is Koyuki, Kuuto?"

The Epic of Beginnings - Fragments of a weathered scroll

@PaulHaynekDun wanna make a post for it, but here's the answers.

"Hey man, I heard you guys ran into a deer spirit in the forest. While I can see why it doesn't like Octavia on its turf, is there anything else it told you two besides the humans beyond the mountain?"

There's non-humans in the mountains too, and the forest itself seems like it'll be flooded by the oceans eventually. Also, dude's got beef with the Goddess who brought them here, calling her the Storyteller or something.

The Wayfarer's Guild

What's technology like? Do we have magitech or like, actual tech? Or is it high fantasy to the point where the sciences are still philosophy? Also, don't suppose you have a specific date for when the Age of Dreams began?

The Wayfarer's Guild

Could you go over the general power scaling in this RP? How much can an Initiate do? How much can the Avowed do? What sorta feats of magic and might would the top tiers in this world be capable of doing?

In other words, how anime is this shit?

The Wayfarer's Guild

So if it isn't sandbox, how do you plan on running it?

Silver Gate Academy [Accepting New Players]

_{@Sho Minazuki@Lonewolf685@I-Am-X}

There was a shift. A shift in the progression of the battle, a shift in the amount of risk that the masked assassin was taking. And as flying blades cut off her advance, Otis’s hand went for his pouch again, smartphone slipping out and index finger on the sensor. One more finger press, and the camera whirred to life, recording everything that transpired on video.

The masked assassin and the ninjas that saved Fuuko. Seirin herself, caught in the frames, as well as the words that Kuuto exchanged with the assassin. Records, not for the Strigidae’s own memory, but for the purpose of sharing with others. Perhaps Koyuki would know what to make of ninjas; being as old and Japanese as she was, this would certainly be in the fox girl’s range of knowledge, wouldn’t it?

But for now, this incident was over. Otis flashed a small smile at Seirin before she left, before his expression turned carefully neutral once Kuuto addressed them. The phone, once again, was turned off and slipped into his pocket, and he remained quiet throughout, listening for what questions and answers would pass between teacher and student.

Otis, however, would not say a single thing.

There was no way he wouldn’t want to get involved, after all.

The Epic of Beginnings - Fragments of a weathered scroll

^{@Pyromania99@Rune_Alchemist@Guy0fV4lor@PaulHaynek}

Isidore stared down at Octavia, standing at his feet. He raised his sword up and swung down.

Shnnk.

The hind leg of the boar was severed from the rest of its body and struck the snowy ground softly. There would be a time to dispose of the creature, but not tonight. He stepped around Octavia, leaving the puppy to enjoy her meal. Augusta and Nick, thankfully, had gotten a fire started, even if there didn't look to be any shelter in place, nor a stockpile of wood to keep the fire burning through the night. Isidore let out a breath, watched it rise into the sky. More things to deal with, later.

He sat down, cross-legged. He did not acknowledge his injuries, and focused only on cleaning up the boar as best as he could. The fur came first, pulling at the parts already flayed by wind, cutting into it from the side to separate it from the meat. The organs went next. His sword was sharp enough to disembowel the corpse, and though it was a curious sensation, digging through the still-warm, still-bloody organs of a dead animal, it wasn't too unpleasant. Nothing like watching a body dissolve in a chemical bath. Nothing like the stench of smoke and body odor in an unventilated basement. He pulled them out, cut them out, and laid them out on the snow. They steamed there, rancid but appetizing. It was nice, that all four-legged beasts were fairly similar, from big pigs to little rats.

Some time after his work began, Isidore spoke up.

"There's humans south, beyond the mountains. In the mountains, there are 'those of Shadow' and 'Mountain Folk'. Non-human, but possibly hospitable." He furrowed his brow. A sword was good for slicing flesh, but less good for the fine work of butchery. With a grunt, Isidore cracked the front legs out of their joints, ignoring the pain that flared up from the cuts on his shoulder and neck. "There's a deer that owns the forest. We can stay the night, but Octavia can not be let into the forest." The fire was warm, but it looked insufficient for cooking. He started regardless, setting a leg on the ashen coals. "Should gather more wood."

Or cut down a tree. Would that invoke that deer's wrath again?

The Devil Hunter Agency

“One of us, one of us,” Shika chanted alongside Limen, their hand knocking against the counter rhythmically. It seemed as if everyone was settling in quite comfortably, and as the Envoy continued to speak, they strode into the back of the bar, opening the door to a small kitchen. Shika flicked on the lights, one ear listening to the woman’s curious explanation, while through the other ear, a tomato vine sprouted out of sight of the others. The plant grew rapidly, pliable greens hardening into tough vines, before cherry tomatoes popped out from them. Ripened but a bit dry, they were all shaped like miniature hearts, and Shika plucked them one by one, until she had a dozen to slice up.

There was an oven, but waiting for it to pre-heat would be annoying. Instead, Shika removed the defuser from the gas stove and fired up a powerful jet of flame. They split the tomatoes into perfect halves, coated them in some of the olive oil lying about in the cabinets, then skewered them with her elongated fingers and toasted them over the fire. The oil crackled and popped. The tomatoes shrivelled up but did not burn. And as they took on that perfect candy-red color, Shika pulled them out of the flames, slid them into a mixing bowl, sprinkled sugar on them, and tossed it a couple of times.

Voila. Caramelized tomatoes, a nice blend of tart, sweet, and umami.

Deciding that it wasn’t a formal enough affair to do anything fancy like plating it in some way, Shika wheeled out of the kitchen again, their fingers once more of human length. They popped one of the tomatoes into her mouth, then passed it around, first to the Envoy. “Have a taste,” they beamed, gaze lingering briefly on Da Xia as it swept the room, “Bit of a rush job, but it’s totally vegetarian and pretty tasty, if I say so myself!”

Cacophony Concord

If there was one thing that Lugh’s bombastic final charge had done, it was to create an opening for which Ari to escape. In the moment that all the bronze guards had their attentions focused solely on stabbing him to death, the catgirl made her escape, slipping into the spaces between buildings as swiftly as a sudden breeze. Moments later, she could hear bronze against stone all around, but by then, she had already made good her disappearance. For a battle, a troupe of twelve bronze guards would have made a mess of her, but for a search? The underground city was large, and their numbers, superhumanly fast as they were, were small. It was with only the occasional heart attack induced by a shadow flying overhead that Ari picked her way through the more shaded areas of the city, her Resources regenerating until she was maxed out once more, as healthy and as fit as when she first arrived.

So gradually, she left the chaos and the site of Lugh’s demise behind, forging onwards to the palace on the far side of the city. The walls were the same size as before, and no new guards were lined up nearby, the chaos that was caused by Ari’s home invasion having affected nothing in these surroundings. Once again, two inanimate statues stood at either side of the gate leading to the palace’s inner courtyards, their polearms glimmering bright in the star-studded stalactites’ cold light. Rings hung from the center of the gate at Ari’s eye height, and the statues did not move even as she approached. Up close, the gate and the walls were even more daunting than before. Though Ari had plenty of ways to scale a five meter height, her real life common sense still rebelled against the notion of having superhuman capabilities.

It was tall, and whatever was immediately on the other side could not be seen until she scrambled over it.

As she grasped the rings to pull open the gate, however, a voice sounded to her left.

“Of your trespass, and your resistance, one has observed thusly.”

Another voice, as firm as the first, sounded to her right.

“Of your inadequacies, and your audacity, one has acknowledged thusly.”

The polearms fell, stopping inches from Ari’s wrists to form a criss-cross pattern, as the once-inanimate guards turned their blazing gaze onto the explorer. Together, their voices rang out.

“Of the Tomb of the Sunblessed Emperor, you seek to tread. Will your motives be drawn through your mouth, or your skull?”
_@GreenGoat

---

Moving at speeds greater than his own, Amulak’s chains whipped outwards in a frenzy towards the leech-mouthed Gakis. Though mere tendrils of mana at first, they rapidly gained substance as they neared, until they took the shape of iron chains. One wrapped around a ghost’s waist, slamming it into the ceiling. Another swung around a monster’s upper arm, then hurled into Patches’s blender. A third punched into the leech-mouth of the starving creature, while a fourth practically mummified the creature it bound. But the fifth only managed to snag the Gaki by the ankle, and before the monster could be slammed into a wall or bound more securely, the monster bent over and tore off its own foot with its jaws. It was a ghost, after all. Even without feet, it could fly.

And with a screeching cry, it slammed its emaciated body against Amulak’s, the force enough to stagger, but not knock the mage back. Nails dug onto the plates of his armor to secure its place, while the leech-mouth lunged forward to tear at the mage’s face. It was a nightmarish experience, even with Amulak’s pain sensitivity set as long as it was. Rows of rotten teeth scraped over his flesh with the sensation of human nails scratching him, and though only a meager 27 points of damage was dealt to him, the sensation was fucking disgusting, and so was the sniggering laughter of the Gaki.

A laughter that was cut short moments later when the Seeker Chain that missed had returned, wrapping around its throat and pulling it off Amulak.

But the situation really was growing dire. The amount of DPS that Patches and Amulak were dealing wasn’t enough to quickly cull the swarm of monsters, and meanwhile, they were both burning their Resources at a quickening pace. No healer present meant any loss of HP they incurred was for all purposes permanent, while the unnatural form of the ghosts meant that even when cleaved in half by a pulsating cleaver or torn to bits by magical forces, they were still not fully destroyed. Even now, the ones that Amulak had bound were struggling to make their own escape, slowing tearing their bodies apart to get a taste of the mage’s flesh and blood.

“Amulak!” Patches shouted through the deluge of arcane power. “Gonna make an opening! Just bring mine with you; I’ll find you after!” Another Gaki rode the arcane waves, gnarled fingers catching the bloodied warrior on the head. “Fuck, get ready!”

Without waiting for a response, he drew an iron spike from the folds of his jacket and slammed it into his temple. It slid in effortlessly, Patches’s bright blue eyes clouding over with red as the spike pierced through flesh, bone, and then into the brain. He stalled, for just a moment, and the Gaki descended upon him, teeth eagerly digging into his pale flesh.

Pale flesh that expanded rather being torn away.

The cleaver-wielding warrior doubled in bulk, the stitches over his body more prominent than ever as he let out the guttural roar of a creation made only after trespassing upon a domain that science ought never to have done so. With one arm, he cut a swathe through the forces, four ghosts dismembered at once. With his other arm, he slammed the ground itself, a shockwave so tremendous as to blow them all back. But Amulak, a member of his own party, was not affected. Throughout the titan’s frenzied rampage, only he could pass through unscathed.

There was certainly a way for him to run back now, to pursue another path. But, considering Patches’s sudden power-up, maybe it was possible too, for them to simply clean house together?
_{@Psyker Landshark}

---

“Chief, it’s not working!” “Oh shit!” “Keep at it, don’t stop!” “No, look!” “How’s he doing that?!” “Ahhh, no!” “Damnit!” “Abort, abort!” “Grab everything; we’re gliding out!” “My mom, where’s my mom?” “Woman and children first!” “Gogogo!” “Ahhhh!”

More tiny needles stuck themselves into Klein’s skin, but the volleys were erratic now, disorganized, and soon, right as he began to start uprooting the tree, all the voices disappeared. There was only a shimmering haze of light exuding from behind the tree, and by the time the mountain man uprooted the entire tree, it had grown totally silent.

Was that for better or worse?

Regardless, Klein had no further difficulty hoisting it on his back. Though it was a bit cumbersome to maneuver through the denser sections of the Thunderstruck Grove, physically he was fine. The passives afforded to him gave him more than enough tenacity to carry a whole tree with him out of the forest, after all, and as the mist curled away from him to reveal the bright blue beauty of Gala’s sky, all he had to deal with was the occasional inquiry or snicker from a passing human. Few seemed to appreciate his claims about this being a demonic tree, and his plans of planting it into a goblin’s burrow drew a mixture of disbelief and mirth.

Still, none of the guards within Nyu-Taro had stopped him from entering or exiting, accustomed as they were to the shenanigans of Immortals. So long as he wasn’t actively harming the Riens of the city-state, they wouldn’t raise a hand, it appeared. Or maybe it was simply because no one wanted to approach the tree-hugging beefcake.

Past the eastern gate, the familiar sight of the Goldspun Fields stretched once more, as well as the sight of Immortals running around, eager to do battle with the murderous goblin raid parties that wandered the expanse. They had done quite a number on him during his grinding session with the others as well, enough so that if it weren’t for his party and his Nuclei’s ability, Klein would’ve been dead more than just a couple times. He had a weapon now though, and a decent boost in his stats to boot; he should be fine now, to face a goblin party by himself?

The whistling of arrows through the air told him that such thoughts would be put to the test. From the tall brush, three Goblin archers, one of who wore a dyed headdress signaling him as the raid leader, fired at him from upon their malnourished mutts. With such shoddy weaponry, only two of the four arrows actually struck, but the pain that accompanied them, as well as the HP lost, reminded Klein that, unfortunately, he wasn’t wholly invincible.

39 HP, after all, was lost in that initial volley.
_@Shovel