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But isn't the gameplay...literally all RNG? Like, I've seen some vids of it, and the player literally does nothing other than watch his girls fight and such....
Posting today. Rose would totally go do the meido job. XD
Kantai Collection....outside of moe animu ship girl pictures...what's even the appeal?
One night ago, Cykes had been a city of progress and rationality, one of scholarly thought and cool-headed debates. But now, the academic capital of Dansila was anything put rational. For it was the city in which all were welcome, casualties caused by that night time raid did not simply end at those of Dansilan citizenship, but civilians of Astopol and Illiserev as well. Aspiring priests and nuns who pursued theological and philosophical studies now dampened the roads with their blood. The sons of nobles and merchants flowed as freely as their money, sprawled out on the floor. It was only the Talze Uterans who were spared from the massacre, but through a logical, objective standpoint, that would most definitely be simply due to how few of them there were in the first place.
Yet the injured mob would not be satisfied with merely a rational decision. While the families of those who suffered cried in overcrowded hospitals or amongst orderly rows of corpses, hidden by stained, white blankets, those who were untouched, who had no crushing grief to overwhelm their anger, took to the streets. They wanted a scapegoat, and the few Talze Uterans who were in the city made the perfect target. After all, by morning, it was clear that the monsters of the night were summoned, not rift-beasts. And the only beings who exclusively used summons were the witches, those belonging of Talze Utera. That rage at their own powerlessness was what caused those who could move to protest, to march and yell and vandalize until the ruined buildings shook with the stomps of their feet.
“DEATH TO THE MONSTER! WAR TO TALZE UTERA!”
That tribal, primal cry for vengeance was loud, so loud that it even made its way into the confined meeting room of the Sidosa Board...or, at least, it's remaining members. Three were hospitalized. Two were dead. The minority remained, and they too have suffered during the unexpected attack. They too were not thinking with a clear mind.
And in that tense, nervous silence, one man, an elf elder, coughed and said, “Gentlemen, it's clear that Talze Utera is responsible for this attack. So...”
He clenched his gnarly fist. It was a mistake, setting up a meeting this early, when emotions were still running rampant. It was a mistake, but he couldn't stop himself now. Blood must be paid with blood. That was the simplest, truest, and most difficult law in the world.
“...let's hunt down every one of those fucking bastards.”
The brunette, Fion Meyer, nodded slightly at that affirmation of known knowledge. Except...why did she know that? Moments ago, she only knew him as a person who appeared once in awhile, but now that name brought forth deja vu. Was it familiar because it was her own name? No, that wasn't it. The name seemed to fit that person as well, in an incomprehensible manner, as if calling him by any other name would just be odd.
“Fion...”
So that was his name, and so was her's.
Fion of the Seyour family, a child who lost his arm and regained a new one, before being known as a man capable of using magic. With that ability, he was quickly recognized as a prodigy, but his personality made him more than simply unlikable to people. Other than his mother, his whole family holds varying degrees of hatred towards him, but at the same time, they can't beat him, simply because he is THAT powerful of a Sword Arts user.
Yet, how did she know all this? How did she know what Sword Arts were? How did she look into his past so easily? And more importantly...how did she only start knowing this now, after making contact with him? Who was he?
And...who was she?
The woman was aware that she was born, but she knew not the full details of her life, even though she could recall his memories as vividly as if they were her own. Could the same apply to him then? Could he recall her own memories?
“Do you know what my life was like, Fion who isn't myself? Because I don't know myself, yet I know you.”
Truly, the goddess of fortune must be smiling upon him if it was this easy to find Rilolia. He would have expected that a former vampire noble would have wished for a better transportation vehicle than this rusty backwater airship, but it seemed that she was in too much of a rush to care. She even hired a drunkard of a manservant. Thoroughly amusing, the differences between a high-class vampire elder and a runaway former noble.
Hiding his thoughts under an obedient mask, one that he had to wear so much more often these days, the gray-haired man bowed once more, this time a bow that brought him to form a perfect right angle. His long hair swinging downwards, brushing against his earrings, the servant said, “My deepest apologies for not noticing your noble vampire blood amongst these mundanes, Lady Lorchais. Though I have been formally task by Master Lorchais to help you in your goal of rescuing the swordsman Vance Warren, it is truly on the authority of the Scarlet Court that I act. It would appear that the Elders are quite interested in this individual, mi'lady.”
“Ah, and you may address me as Lenz Blanc, or anything else you feel fit to call me.”
Yet the injured mob would not be satisfied with merely a rational decision. While the families of those who suffered cried in overcrowded hospitals or amongst orderly rows of corpses, hidden by stained, white blankets, those who were untouched, who had no crushing grief to overwhelm their anger, took to the streets. They wanted a scapegoat, and the few Talze Uterans who were in the city made the perfect target. After all, by morning, it was clear that the monsters of the night were summoned, not rift-beasts. And the only beings who exclusively used summons were the witches, those belonging of Talze Utera. That rage at their own powerlessness was what caused those who could move to protest, to march and yell and vandalize until the ruined buildings shook with the stomps of their feet.
“DEATH TO THE MONSTER! WAR TO TALZE UTERA!”
That tribal, primal cry for vengeance was loud, so loud that it even made its way into the confined meeting room of the Sidosa Board...or, at least, it's remaining members. Three were hospitalized. Two were dead. The minority remained, and they too have suffered during the unexpected attack. They too were not thinking with a clear mind.
And in that tense, nervous silence, one man, an elf elder, coughed and said, “Gentlemen, it's clear that Talze Utera is responsible for this attack. So...”
He clenched his gnarly fist. It was a mistake, setting up a meeting this early, when emotions were still running rampant. It was a mistake, but he couldn't stop himself now. Blood must be paid with blood. That was the simplest, truest, and most difficult law in the world.
“...let's hunt down every one of those fucking bastards.”
The brunette, Fion Meyer, nodded slightly at that affirmation of known knowledge. Except...why did she know that? Moments ago, she only knew him as a person who appeared once in awhile, but now that name brought forth deja vu. Was it familiar because it was her own name? No, that wasn't it. The name seemed to fit that person as well, in an incomprehensible manner, as if calling him by any other name would just be odd.
“Fion...”
So that was his name, and so was her's.
Fion of the Seyour family, a child who lost his arm and regained a new one, before being known as a man capable of using magic. With that ability, he was quickly recognized as a prodigy, but his personality made him more than simply unlikable to people. Other than his mother, his whole family holds varying degrees of hatred towards him, but at the same time, they can't beat him, simply because he is THAT powerful of a Sword Arts user.
Yet, how did she know all this? How did she know what Sword Arts were? How did she look into his past so easily? And more importantly...how did she only start knowing this now, after making contact with him? Who was he?
And...who was she?
The woman was aware that she was born, but she knew not the full details of her life, even though she could recall his memories as vividly as if they were her own. Could the same apply to him then? Could he recall her own memories?
“Do you know what my life was like, Fion who isn't myself? Because I don't know myself, yet I know you.”
Truly, the goddess of fortune must be smiling upon him if it was this easy to find Rilolia. He would have expected that a former vampire noble would have wished for a better transportation vehicle than this rusty backwater airship, but it seemed that she was in too much of a rush to care. She even hired a drunkard of a manservant. Thoroughly amusing, the differences between a high-class vampire elder and a runaway former noble.
Hiding his thoughts under an obedient mask, one that he had to wear so much more often these days, the gray-haired man bowed once more, this time a bow that brought him to form a perfect right angle. His long hair swinging downwards, brushing against his earrings, the servant said, “My deepest apologies for not noticing your noble vampire blood amongst these mundanes, Lady Lorchais. Though I have been formally task by Master Lorchais to help you in your goal of rescuing the swordsman Vance Warren, it is truly on the authority of the Scarlet Court that I act. It would appear that the Elders are quite interested in this individual, mi'lady.”
“Ah, and you may address me as Lenz Blanc, or anything else you feel fit to call me.”
He's not attacking Raf, MUG. I'm pretty sure nrtashi is just saying that Rafale's thinking too hard about his post, and not simply going with what he has and posting it. No offense, but I think you're being a bit too defensive, cause I don't see where nrtashi stated that Raf has no creativity.
The sun shone down brightly, but whatever warmth it cast down on the earth was quickly dissipated by the cool winds that travelled in the sky, pushing sparse clouds around. Nevertheless, Kerenza enjoyed this type of weather. It reminded her of days where she could spend hours idling in the gardens of her little mansion. But now, idling was a luxury that she could not afford. Time was money, after all, and she was a young lady now. It was imperative that she waste not her time on something as pointless as walking about bare-footed, soaking in the refreshing winds. Even more importantly was the fact that today, of all things, was the day Azure Dragon's guild hall was finally completed. Which meant jobs. Which meant work. Which meant increasing her reputation. Which meant more jobs. Which made her happy. It was a nice thing, being useful and productive. Made the little girl feel important.
Of course, she was pretty sure that she was already one of the most important people in the Guild, considering her ultra-rare, avant-garde Spirit Make magic, which made her worth seven people. Sure, she could only technically bring out five of her Spirits at once, and sure, she wasn't going to do any physical labor, but that still meant that she could have almost all of her Spirits working, at the low low cost of only a few favors and promises!
And while she, herself, could be motivated by the promise of curry, her Spirits...
Flanked from both sides by a redhead, effeminate boy and a raven-haired young man, Kerenza wore an expressionless mask as she walked through the streets of the merchant district, ignoring the demands and prodding of her Spirits.
Rose Red draped one slender arm over the girl and teased with a grin, “Hey, princess, when are you going to give me the kiss you promised?”
“Ohoho, that looks tasty. Go buy me that thingy-ma-jig, Renzie~ You owe me after all,” said Forest Falls, leaning over a display of steaming meat pastries.
“Aw, are you afraid of giving up your first kiss? Don't worry, this won't count, so you'll still be pure. Anyways, boys like girls with some experience!”
“Wait, no, gimme that...uh...Mont Eclaire dessert thing! It's only three times as expensive, for a taste that's ten times greater!”
“Is that a blush I see on your face? See, what did I tell you, Forest? Even our princess can look cute when she reacts her age!”
“Eh, I don't really care though, Rose...but hey, look, no hands!”
It was only when Forest decided to try his acrobatic skills by balancing with his head only on a clothesline suspended two stories above the street did Kerenza's expressionless, mature mask finally explode into a bajillion pieces, fury and embarrassment skyrocketing into the stratosphere. Shaking with an almost seizure-like frequency, she let out a banshee's screech, and ran off, ahead of her two Spirits, yelling all the way, “I HATE YOU ALL!!!!!”
It took her only a few minutes before she reached the Guild, and she was pretty much winded by then, collapsing right there on the ground, intent on taking a few minutes of unglorified, unladylike rest so she can better present herself later.
Of course, she was pretty sure that she was already one of the most important people in the Guild, considering her ultra-rare, avant-garde Spirit Make magic, which made her worth seven people. Sure, she could only technically bring out five of her Spirits at once, and sure, she wasn't going to do any physical labor, but that still meant that she could have almost all of her Spirits working, at the low low cost of only a few favors and promises!
And while she, herself, could be motivated by the promise of curry, her Spirits...
Flanked from both sides by a redhead, effeminate boy and a raven-haired young man, Kerenza wore an expressionless mask as she walked through the streets of the merchant district, ignoring the demands and prodding of her Spirits.
Rose Red draped one slender arm over the girl and teased with a grin, “Hey, princess, when are you going to give me the kiss you promised?”
“Ohoho, that looks tasty. Go buy me that thingy-ma-jig, Renzie~ You owe me after all,” said Forest Falls, leaning over a display of steaming meat pastries.
“Aw, are you afraid of giving up your first kiss? Don't worry, this won't count, so you'll still be pure. Anyways, boys like girls with some experience!”
“Wait, no, gimme that...uh...Mont Eclaire dessert thing! It's only three times as expensive, for a taste that's ten times greater!”
“Is that a blush I see on your face? See, what did I tell you, Forest? Even our princess can look cute when she reacts her age!”
“Eh, I don't really care though, Rose...but hey, look, no hands!”
It was only when Forest decided to try his acrobatic skills by balancing with his head only on a clothesline suspended two stories above the street did Kerenza's expressionless, mature mask finally explode into a bajillion pieces, fury and embarrassment skyrocketing into the stratosphere. Shaking with an almost seizure-like frequency, she let out a banshee's screech, and ran off, ahead of her two Spirits, yelling all the way, “I HATE YOU ALL!!!!!”
It took her only a few minutes before she reached the Guild, and she was pretty much winded by then, collapsing right there on the ground, intent on taking a few minutes of unglorified, unladylike rest so she can better present herself later.
I need no cat faunus in this RP.
GET POSTING, ILLISEREV FUCKERS.
ASURAS, GET YOUR CS UP ALREADY. I NEED DETAILS ONCE MORE.
ASURAS, GET YOUR CS UP ALREADY. I NEED DETAILS ONCE MORE.
He hadn't slept that whole night, but Eldren was still feeling more alive than he ever had been. It was a magnificent feeling, finally letting loose and doing what he wanted. His peaceful, tranquil life was nice, and it had made him feel proud, protecting such a lifestyle, but this, this utter freedom was nice too. Those sibilant whispers in the back of his mind guided him, dark suggestions that only furthered his existing knowledge of the magic of witches. He needed no summonings, but curses, those were things that seemed useful. After all, it would be too much of a shame if that elf-bitch died too easily. He'd have to work on a 'resetting' spell as well, something that undid any mental damage. Killing her once wouldn't be enough to sate him. He'll kill her many times, over and over again until her mind broke, then erase all that mental scarring, just so he could do it again.
How many times? Five times? Twenty times? No, he'll find a curse that allows him to repeat that for a whole lifetime. Only then will the blood debt be paid. Only then would that monster have paid the price for killing the Eldren that once was. For now, he was but a monster, and he would not deny that he was enjoying the experience.
In half a day, he had arrived at the citadel of King Lazaros, Crown Head of Illiserev. In his path, three cities were already under attack by those otherworldly monsters. It was only a demonstration of his power. There would be casualties and grievous injuries, of course, but that was the extent of his actions. It was his own way of showing mercy, when he could be doing much, much more. He hated this kingdom, but hunting down a single person on the continent would take too much time and effort. Better to let every other of those peasants do it for him.
Smiling at the elderly on a gold-and-blue throne, Eldren sat down on the chair that had once belonged to some noble. The noble that one of the pets in his cloak had just eaten whole. He crossed his legs, wondered whether he should use his own name or the name of the girl whose body it belonged, and decided on the later.
After all, it would be helpful to have an 'innocent' body and identity, if he ever wanted to go back to living a normal life. If he ever got satisfied with just doing this much damage to the shitty world that turned him into what he was.
“Well then, gentlemen, I do apologize for my unannounced arrival to this gathering, but alas, I was in quite a rush. You see, I'm a girl with simple needs. I just want to find someone, and if you do, I won't be dismantling your pitiful kingdom anytime in the near future. Of course, I'm sure that you'll be able to gather up a group of warriors strong enough to eventually kill me, but I'm not a fighter. I'm the witch, Riley Thomson, and I will gladly recreate the Talentless Strife.”
He raised his hand and a black summoning circle revolved in it, as a little monster's head broke through.
“I've already begun attacks on three towns, and I can do much more. All I want, at the moment, is to find an elf-girl who talks to herself.”
He closed his hand, crushing that circle and returning that monster from where it came, before waving cheerily, standing up.
“Well, I'll judge whether you've accepted my terms by tomorrow, wouldn't I, Lazaros? I'd love to stay for dinner, but, alas, staying in this fortress would probably decrease my lifespan.”
He wanted to kill more things so badly, but for now, he'll settle for this. Maybe visit the Archipelago later for some senseless destruction.
Another bright, sunny, yet mild day in Astopol. On the highest mountain of Astopol was a flowerfield plateau, a soothing, untouched place where butterflies migrated, birds sang, icewater rivers chuckled, and a soft wind blew. Only a single building could be seen on that picturesque place, that of a small, homely chapel. It was a well-kept building, white and gold, a heavenly appearance with a bell tower that stood five floors up. To whom that brass bell chimed to, no one knew. Then again, the ropes for ringing the bell had long since disappeared, leaving it silent, even though it gleamed in the light of day.
From within, the wooden pews of that chapel were delicately engraved with passages and symbols, and the stained glass windows cast rainbow light into the dark interior. A solemn place of worship for the Goddess of Miracles, with a marble stand in the center, holding a beautifully illustrated book, bound with creamy white paper. Yet, it was not a book about the past, nor was it a holy book regarding the actions of the Goddess of Miracles. Instead, it was a book of the present, a personal journal of the High Priestess of Astopol, one that the holy woman had written in for every week of her life. It was almost a calming task for the young girl, but today, things were different.
Today, she sat on one of the pews of that quiet chapel, letting the solitude take in her thoughts instead. Dansila was attacked by the witches, the evidence lying in the summoned monsters that have been spotted that night. Yet there were also reports of two odd rift-beasts, who had 'eaten' both magic and talentium, integrating it into their own bodies, and growing as a result. The knights of Astopol were now asking for her advice on the situation, and she was, once again, feeling the pressure of a nation on her shoulders. Should they invade Talze Utera then, waging war? Even though it had only been twelve years since their last one? Was she the only one who did not want to bring the nation into such a state of emergency again?
Or was that what she was supposed to be like, as the High Priestess of the Goddess of Miracles, She Who Cleanses the Living and Saves the Dead?
“Your Holiness, we must depart to Koestace now, to discuss the matter of the attack on Cykes with Knight Commander Farnor. A carriage is waiting on the mountain road.”
Her thoughts interrupted by the sound of one of the Grand Masters of the Priestess's Guard, the young girl visibly gulped, tried to remind herself that Mirelle Keep, the greatest of Knight Commanders, was her age when she led the knights to victory against the rift-beasts, before asking one question.
“Will High Sage Esprit be present, Sir Savaniel?”
“My apologies, but the High Sage will not be attending, Priestess Cairyn.”
The girl bit her tongue at the thought of that, before taking a big breath once more. She could pretty much SEE her white robes trembling now, and she forced herself still. She had to remind herself that this nervousness was good, because it sharpened her mind. This was a good thing, that she was scared of making a decision. It would prevent her from being rash.
But despite all this, as she stepped towards the exit of the chapel, the High Priestess was reminded of another thing.
Just because being scared was a good thing, didn't mean that being scared FELT good.
Was this how Mirelle felt when she leapt into battle, with only the Sword of Origin by her side?
Within the dark miasma of Talze Utera, was the proud establishment of the Witchmother of East, a mansion that looked like it was from a fairy tale. Like a doll house, it was filled with trinkets that had no use other than to look pretty. Stuffed animals, massive chandeliers, frilly curtains, all sorts of pointlessly pretty objects adorned the house. If it wasn't for the fact that this was Talze Utera, one may even say that all these things would have been a grand waste of money. Except in Talze Utera, such things are obtained more often through bartering, stealing, and self-crafting. One good point about that wretched land, if nothing else. It taught self-sufficiency, regardless of how strong you are.
Aiv was standing on a velvet carpet, woven with the shapes of animals and plants. It felt good against his barefeet, but that was all there was to it. He had no words of praise to offer to the craftsmanship and patience it must have taken to create such a work, nor did he particularly care to discern the 'theme' of the doll house, that of a colorful, playful, childish house. Once again, East stood in front of him, still in her casual clothing. The childish witchmother was in a dark brown cloak, and little else. Yet that day, her expression was anything but child-like. She had a solemn facade this time, and despite her lax choice of clothing, she held her staff, a two meter long quarterstaff of bone-white wood. It's surface was engraved with so many symbols that it looked more like a scroll, a tightly bound one. And perhaps it was. Perhaps it was simply white bark from a tree, written on and then rolled into a cylinder.
But that was beside the point.
That weapon was the same as his own, a weapon that held Colored Talentium within it. For her to bring it out, it could only mean one thing.
He narrowed his eyes, just ever so slightly.
“Oh Aiv,” the raven-haired witchmother said, seated on a rather comfy padded chair, shaped like a teddy bear, “I'm sure you've heard of it, but last night, Cykes was attacked by witches, or so they claim. Of course, I have nothing to do with it, but as it stands, we might have invaders intruding into Talze Utera soon.”
Hopping off her chair and stretching backwards, the quarterstaff tipping behind and tapping the carpetted floor, East said, “I'll be meeting up with South, West, and North to discuss what we'll be doing in response to this. I'm sure that West would love to start another fight though, so it'd be very appreciated if you could come along. Just as an independent third-party. A mediator, if you will.”
Aiv thought for a moment, his white hair covering his eyes.
“Of course, my dear, such a favor must be rewarded after we come back, don't you think?”
In that moment, she dropped her staff and closed the distance between the two, her cold, pale hands placed against his cheeks, drawing him in.
Aiv turned away with a jerk of his head, saying coldly, “Let's go, East.”
“Aw, when did I say we'd be walking?”
And she picked up her staff once more, twirling it around like a baton, before slamming it onto the carpet. Green light emanated from the symbols on the staff, and soon the dollhouse began to rumble, something below it moving.
“It would be a pitiful display if we merely 'walked' to the meeting, wouldn't it? I haven't seen my sisters for quite some time, after all.”
“You talk too much.”
“And girls don't like guys who pretend to be cold and silent~”
On the deck of a ragtag ship that was floating through the sky, a card drifted through the heavens, onto the deck of the ship. An ace of clubs, the card expanded as it touched a solid surface, rotating until it was the size of a small table. And then, from within the table, a gray haired man arose, bearing yellow eyes, owl earrings, and dressed in a well-tailored suit. His gloved right hand, which he brought over his heart as he bowed to the first person he saw, bore the symbol of the Luna family.
“Greetings,” he said, in a smooth, cultured tone, “Is there a Rilolia Lorchais on board this...airship? I have been sent by the head of the Lorchais household to aid the young mistress in her quest.”
How many times? Five times? Twenty times? No, he'll find a curse that allows him to repeat that for a whole lifetime. Only then will the blood debt be paid. Only then would that monster have paid the price for killing the Eldren that once was. For now, he was but a monster, and he would not deny that he was enjoying the experience.
In half a day, he had arrived at the citadel of King Lazaros, Crown Head of Illiserev. In his path, three cities were already under attack by those otherworldly monsters. It was only a demonstration of his power. There would be casualties and grievous injuries, of course, but that was the extent of his actions. It was his own way of showing mercy, when he could be doing much, much more. He hated this kingdom, but hunting down a single person on the continent would take too much time and effort. Better to let every other of those peasants do it for him.
Smiling at the elderly on a gold-and-blue throne, Eldren sat down on the chair that had once belonged to some noble. The noble that one of the pets in his cloak had just eaten whole. He crossed his legs, wondered whether he should use his own name or the name of the girl whose body it belonged, and decided on the later.
After all, it would be helpful to have an 'innocent' body and identity, if he ever wanted to go back to living a normal life. If he ever got satisfied with just doing this much damage to the shitty world that turned him into what he was.
“Well then, gentlemen, I do apologize for my unannounced arrival to this gathering, but alas, I was in quite a rush. You see, I'm a girl with simple needs. I just want to find someone, and if you do, I won't be dismantling your pitiful kingdom anytime in the near future. Of course, I'm sure that you'll be able to gather up a group of warriors strong enough to eventually kill me, but I'm not a fighter. I'm the witch, Riley Thomson, and I will gladly recreate the Talentless Strife.”
He raised his hand and a black summoning circle revolved in it, as a little monster's head broke through.
“I've already begun attacks on three towns, and I can do much more. All I want, at the moment, is to find an elf-girl who talks to herself.”
He closed his hand, crushing that circle and returning that monster from where it came, before waving cheerily, standing up.
“Well, I'll judge whether you've accepted my terms by tomorrow, wouldn't I, Lazaros? I'd love to stay for dinner, but, alas, staying in this fortress would probably decrease my lifespan.”
He wanted to kill more things so badly, but for now, he'll settle for this. Maybe visit the Archipelago later for some senseless destruction.
Another bright, sunny, yet mild day in Astopol. On the highest mountain of Astopol was a flowerfield plateau, a soothing, untouched place where butterflies migrated, birds sang, icewater rivers chuckled, and a soft wind blew. Only a single building could be seen on that picturesque place, that of a small, homely chapel. It was a well-kept building, white and gold, a heavenly appearance with a bell tower that stood five floors up. To whom that brass bell chimed to, no one knew. Then again, the ropes for ringing the bell had long since disappeared, leaving it silent, even though it gleamed in the light of day.
From within, the wooden pews of that chapel were delicately engraved with passages and symbols, and the stained glass windows cast rainbow light into the dark interior. A solemn place of worship for the Goddess of Miracles, with a marble stand in the center, holding a beautifully illustrated book, bound with creamy white paper. Yet, it was not a book about the past, nor was it a holy book regarding the actions of the Goddess of Miracles. Instead, it was a book of the present, a personal journal of the High Priestess of Astopol, one that the holy woman had written in for every week of her life. It was almost a calming task for the young girl, but today, things were different.
Today, she sat on one of the pews of that quiet chapel, letting the solitude take in her thoughts instead. Dansila was attacked by the witches, the evidence lying in the summoned monsters that have been spotted that night. Yet there were also reports of two odd rift-beasts, who had 'eaten' both magic and talentium, integrating it into their own bodies, and growing as a result. The knights of Astopol were now asking for her advice on the situation, and she was, once again, feeling the pressure of a nation on her shoulders. Should they invade Talze Utera then, waging war? Even though it had only been twelve years since their last one? Was she the only one who did not want to bring the nation into such a state of emergency again?
Or was that what she was supposed to be like, as the High Priestess of the Goddess of Miracles, She Who Cleanses the Living and Saves the Dead?
“Your Holiness, we must depart to Koestace now, to discuss the matter of the attack on Cykes with Knight Commander Farnor. A carriage is waiting on the mountain road.”
Her thoughts interrupted by the sound of one of the Grand Masters of the Priestess's Guard, the young girl visibly gulped, tried to remind herself that Mirelle Keep, the greatest of Knight Commanders, was her age when she led the knights to victory against the rift-beasts, before asking one question.
“Will High Sage Esprit be present, Sir Savaniel?”
“My apologies, but the High Sage will not be attending, Priestess Cairyn.”
The girl bit her tongue at the thought of that, before taking a big breath once more. She could pretty much SEE her white robes trembling now, and she forced herself still. She had to remind herself that this nervousness was good, because it sharpened her mind. This was a good thing, that she was scared of making a decision. It would prevent her from being rash.
But despite all this, as she stepped towards the exit of the chapel, the High Priestess was reminded of another thing.
Just because being scared was a good thing, didn't mean that being scared FELT good.
Was this how Mirelle felt when she leapt into battle, with only the Sword of Origin by her side?
Within the dark miasma of Talze Utera, was the proud establishment of the Witchmother of East, a mansion that looked like it was from a fairy tale. Like a doll house, it was filled with trinkets that had no use other than to look pretty. Stuffed animals, massive chandeliers, frilly curtains, all sorts of pointlessly pretty objects adorned the house. If it wasn't for the fact that this was Talze Utera, one may even say that all these things would have been a grand waste of money. Except in Talze Utera, such things are obtained more often through bartering, stealing, and self-crafting. One good point about that wretched land, if nothing else. It taught self-sufficiency, regardless of how strong you are.
Aiv was standing on a velvet carpet, woven with the shapes of animals and plants. It felt good against his barefeet, but that was all there was to it. He had no words of praise to offer to the craftsmanship and patience it must have taken to create such a work, nor did he particularly care to discern the 'theme' of the doll house, that of a colorful, playful, childish house. Once again, East stood in front of him, still in her casual clothing. The childish witchmother was in a dark brown cloak, and little else. Yet that day, her expression was anything but child-like. She had a solemn facade this time, and despite her lax choice of clothing, she held her staff, a two meter long quarterstaff of bone-white wood. It's surface was engraved with so many symbols that it looked more like a scroll, a tightly bound one. And perhaps it was. Perhaps it was simply white bark from a tree, written on and then rolled into a cylinder.
But that was beside the point.
That weapon was the same as his own, a weapon that held Colored Talentium within it. For her to bring it out, it could only mean one thing.
He narrowed his eyes, just ever so slightly.
“Oh Aiv,” the raven-haired witchmother said, seated on a rather comfy padded chair, shaped like a teddy bear, “I'm sure you've heard of it, but last night, Cykes was attacked by witches, or so they claim. Of course, I have nothing to do with it, but as it stands, we might have invaders intruding into Talze Utera soon.”
Hopping off her chair and stretching backwards, the quarterstaff tipping behind and tapping the carpetted floor, East said, “I'll be meeting up with South, West, and North to discuss what we'll be doing in response to this. I'm sure that West would love to start another fight though, so it'd be very appreciated if you could come along. Just as an independent third-party. A mediator, if you will.”
Aiv thought for a moment, his white hair covering his eyes.
“Of course, my dear, such a favor must be rewarded after we come back, don't you think?”
In that moment, she dropped her staff and closed the distance between the two, her cold, pale hands placed against his cheeks, drawing him in.
Aiv turned away with a jerk of his head, saying coldly, “Let's go, East.”
“Aw, when did I say we'd be walking?”
And she picked up her staff once more, twirling it around like a baton, before slamming it onto the carpet. Green light emanated from the symbols on the staff, and soon the dollhouse began to rumble, something below it moving.
“It would be a pitiful display if we merely 'walked' to the meeting, wouldn't it? I haven't seen my sisters for quite some time, after all.”
“You talk too much.”
“And girls don't like guys who pretend to be cold and silent~”
On the deck of a ragtag ship that was floating through the sky, a card drifted through the heavens, onto the deck of the ship. An ace of clubs, the card expanded as it touched a solid surface, rotating until it was the size of a small table. And then, from within the table, a gray haired man arose, bearing yellow eyes, owl earrings, and dressed in a well-tailored suit. His gloved right hand, which he brought over his heart as he bowed to the first person he saw, bore the symbol of the Luna family.
“Greetings,” he said, in a smooth, cultured tone, “Is there a Rilolia Lorchais on board this...airship? I have been sent by the head of the Lorchais household to aid the young mistress in her quest.”
Yeah, but I was going under the assumption that Imagine Make and Spirit Make were things that had the same roots, considering both are capable of creating what isn't there. In Imagine Make, you make objects that you imagine. In Spirit Make, you make 'spirits' that you imagine.
Just that the latter's harder than the former. Just thought that it was odd how Arc of Embodiment would be similar to Imagine Make, but not Spirit Make.
Just that the latter's harder than the former. Just thought that it was odd how Arc of Embodiment would be similar to Imagine Make, but not Spirit Make.
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