HereComesTheSnow

Blades of Iron Roses: An Anime-Inspired Fantasy Knight RP

Gerard Segremors

@JessieTargaryen@VitaVitaAR@Crimson Paladin

The spray of blood.

The crash of steel.

The crackle of fire.

The song of war rose again from the tense air, hushed whispers and guessed conspiracies breaking into frenetic shouting, punctuated by the rumbling of hooves against the earth. The steel in his grip flew through the night as he charged forward upon his horse, checking the advance of his enemies at the edge of his blade. Momentum and weight, as forceful as they were, managed to force a weak point into the leather harness of the nearest boar to his murderous right arm where one had not truly been woven in— dashing him off his feet and awarding Gerard with a spurt of red for his trouble.

Were the cut itself lethal or not was difficult to say, impossible until he turned round for a strike upon their back, much as Sir Fleuri had— but altogether a pointless concern. In the next breath, the dark blues of moonlit world were washed violent orange, as Runa's orb of flame impacted the ground at the initial line's feet and exploded, catching his quarry in the wake of its brief radiance.

He was probably lucky none of them had gotten a swipe off upon his steed. Perhaps they were still reeling from his comrade's charge once he'd hit, but it was dangerous to pull that one again, even if they had them from behind now—

He glanced further into the brush for a moment, hoping he didn't catch any more steel gleaming upon a single moonbeam. The Boars were self-sacrificial and numerous more than tactically genius, true, but they didn't achieve the notoriety nor success they did by being incapable of luring headstrong cavalry into a hidden second line. If Gerard could think of it, so could they, surely.

This was why fighting from horseback was a twofold weakpoint, he grimly noted, rounding his horse again back towards the rear of their (initial) wave. For him specifically: he had honed his skills as an infantryman far more thoroughly, thriving on his feet in the thick of pitched melee. His usual aggression was magnified on horseback— well and good and worth the risk when it was his own feet carrying him, but he covered ground far too quickly upon his Rouncey, carrying him through the lines. Such was the idea, of course, but if he surged into a trap...

No sense wasting HIS life.

"If you swing back 'round, I'm with you!" he called to Fleuri, some dozen yards or so away.

The charging Runa, her sword now in hand after her burst of magic, the hammer.

The two Reonites, who embodied the boldness of the sun, the anvil.

Even in spite of his dissatisfaction with his combat horsemanship, Gerard saw the boons easily enough. His senior had a better head for this aspect of fighting than he— that much they both knew. Following his lead had good enough odds of Gerard keeping out of any undue positional trouble. If Fleuri had need to ride elsewhere...

One foot, opposite his fellow, crept out of its stirrup, primed to dismount.

A pulse through his veins.

I should count myself lucky to have stood across the field from the Boars before.

I know how you sons of bitches tick man-to-man.

He would play to his strengths.

Blades of Iron Roses: An Anime-Inspired Fantasy Knight RP

Very, unfortunately

Blades of Iron Roses: An Anime-Inspired Fantasy Knight RP

i'll be posting sometime this week, hopefully

Blades of Iron Roses: An Anime-Inspired Fantasy Knight RP

Team “Just Go In” is now assembled

Blades of Iron Roses: An Anime-Inspired Fantasy Knight RP

rest well

Blades of Iron Roses: An Anime-Inspired Fantasy Knight RP

Gerard Segremors

@JessieTargaryen@VitaVitaAR@Crimson Paladin

Sharp eyes did well to account for a self-described dull mind. It had proven itself true time and again to him, in situations much akin to these (albeit with much, much lower stakes) on the battlefield as a soldier of fortune. Even if he wasn't catching the big picture, when the scene directly before him shifted, his instincts had been beaten into noticing by mission after mission, battle after battle. Few things truly served his talents, he knew— but even as a boy who'd never held a blade, living near the woods had honed his sense for disturbance.

Off at the fringes of the brush, something shifted. A light rustle, a shake in the foliage that could have meant any number of things— yet, there was no breeze to toss the leaves, sway the branches, shake the grass. Not heavily enough. That being the case...

"Movement. Trees."

His eyes had finally left Haelstadt after he'd heard the rustling beneath their Captain and the noble's extended dialogue, and with it, his position in the formation. He tugged at the reins sternly with a hand, the other falling onto the hilt of his longsword, and beckoned his horse nearer to the flanks— the other side of Runa and Fleuri. Off to their left now, he took a routine position for him— first line of defense, gripping the concealed fang of steel as his gaze pored over the treeline. A hound with haunches raised was a sign to beware for all who beheld it, and for an armored man Gerard seemed to echo that visage well. The other knights would probably notice.

In moving, any prospective thinking enemy likely had noticed too, but that die had already been cast. He grimly noted that much, but was now committed.

It spoke to the tension of the situation more than words could— he'd much rather look a fool if it was some sneaking fox than end up skewered if he took the chance of letting this lie. It was too perfect. Everyone focused being on this confrontation meant that it wasn't hard to skirt past them if one both wished to and wasn't terrible at it— and the more he looked, the more he wanted to deny a crossing animal altogether.

Hell, he'd just heard the words "using them as a distraction" float in from the front, out of his Captain's voice. It was as if daring fate to illustrate!

There was just too much of it around them at once. All across the edge of the clearing, the low brush was astir in that almost-hidden manner. Something or someone was just out of sight, and moving. It could be a wolf padding along in between pockets of moonlight... or a company of soldiers, settling in for an imminent ambush. He was all but convinced of the latter as the wheels in his head spun.

If you could smell a trap, this reeked.

"Get ready." he muttered lowly to his fellows, one senior and the other junior, now behind him. "We've company. One way or another it'll show it's face in a moment."

Either being found out would do it, or their chosen time to strike would come and things would kick off on their own.

He crouched low in his saddle, coiled like a spring.

Blades of Iron Roses: An Anime-Inspired Fantasy Knight RP

I’ll be looking to post soon as well

Secundi Lux

---

"Cross my heart and hope to die. C'mon," she replied, shooting the smaller girl a reassuring grin as she gently led her onto the floor. "The waltz is pretty easy. You'll get it in a flash."

All around them, the pairs had linked up in earnest, familiar faces and complete strangers partaking in the festivities alike in equal measure. They slowly milled around Selma and Chie, less a centerpiece and more rolling with the tide, and they all navigated the floor in their own subtle ways. Noel and Aoife out of the corner of Selma's eye one moment, the confident blonde swaying without care for her form or reception, only her former partner. She was glad to see the other girl well— she'd made a hell of a good impression during their first evaluations.

A few paces later, there passed a silver-haired stoic in similar threads to the jolly green giant, leading that cheery redhead with the long legs from Hasta around in crisp, precise steps, meeting the latter's flowing, breezy stance with a rigid, practiced orthodoxy— a contrast that seemed to uplift the former, casting a spotlight on her brisk style. A little crazy, considering she was clearly already loving every moment of...

Well, the moment, I guess.

A few seconds after that, that selfsame cloud of purple and white drifted by. Rivka! Another who'd crossed paths with someone new, she'd given Selma little in the way of surprise. As a connoisseur of the melodic arts, her sense for rhythm and passion for music had clearly given her an easy time when learning the basic steps of the dance— once you got a handle on it, it was a cinch to do well. Just a three-count was nothing for her fiery sister from the frigid north, a land where dance and song were once prized arts beyond compare.

And finally, they'd nestled into their space within the throng, two girls in a crowd with just enough room to breathe.

"So, let's get into it!" Selma chirped, about-facing and taking Chie's arm in her other hand, the free arm coming to nestled her hand just below the other Magi's shoulder. "First thing's first, just make sure you follow my lead— so, step when I step, and step as far as I step— and keep this distance here..."

Off they went. She was slow and methodical at first, a far cry from the discordant spontaneity she showed in battle, and gave her partner ample breathing room to learn the count and steps. For her part, Chie was attentive, if a little shy with her posture and movements. But the waltz was genuinely a simple progression:

Forward, side, close.

Backward, side, close.

"One, two, three."

One, two, three.

Make sure the foot that steps out is always stepping after the lead, forming an L-shaped stride. Let the slight vertical sway from going up on the toes asd then back down to your heels carry you through the rhythm, don't go and fight it. Never stray too far from your partner, nor venture too close.

Simple, basic waltz stuff.

Easy to lead, and once Chie had gotten herself a feel for the tempo, easy to follow. Selma made doubly sure that she in turn didn't step too far— her legs were far longer, so she made sure to keep it conservative, never more than a shoulder's width stride. The slow tempo was forgiving for the slight missteps, and before either of them really knew it, they were both drifting along the floor, their dance carrying them in a pleasant, prim spiral.

"Nothin' to it, eh?"

She had dexterity, she had grace. She had the training of an Ars Magi, something with far more frantic footwork, at her back— Selma could see the lights in her grey eyes as she realized that inner monologue of, Hey, I'm getting the hang of it! All told, it was nice and smooth— she had nothing to fear. And now she knew it, too.

"This is maybe a little fun," Chie said, pinning her dance partner with a full-bore, double-barreled gaze right in the eyes. "I was a little nervous, but I feel better knowing you're my first."

...

The big girl laughed, just as Chie was, a gentle, almost lilting thing compared to her usual raucous howls. It wasn't the type the young lady, mistress of gravity, had been worried about before, that much was clear. It hadn't an ounce of derision, only honest surprise and, ever so faintly, a little tinge of embarrassment. She'd gotten comments like that once or twice before in her dance electives, and despite her carefree willingness to take the compliments as they were...

"Ahahaha, wow, you really got me with that one."

Every so often, it reminded her that even she had a few things she was weak to.

"I'm honored as a teacher... And as a friend; you're gonna make me blush, dammit." she said, beginning in that same smooth husk from earlier before slowly breaking down into her natural cadence, emerald hair swaying ever so slightly as they waltzed.

Her gentlemanly act could never hold up indefinitely, as that big, toothy, classically Selma grin burst forth from beneath the gallant, handsome propriety. She'd never been one much for balls, even if she knew all the dancing by heart— but it went to show that the right people, those you let see your uncool sides and weren't afraid to have fun with could make anything worthwhile. She'd have hated all the stuffy crap, were it not for those four.

"Thanks, Chie. I'm happy too."

She chuckled again, unbidden, and continued to lead as they circled through the floor, one of many spokes within the slow, spiraling wheel of Duodecim's chosen few.

Blades of Iron Roses: An Anime-Inspired Fantasy Knight RP

time for my favorite bit about writing posts— rereading my last five to make sure this Makes Sense in context

Blades of Iron Roses: An Anime-Inspired Fantasy Knight RP

Gerard Segremors

@JessieTargaryen@VitaVitaAR@Crimson Paladin

"Likewise, Dame Runa." he murmured in response, inclining his head in a small, slight nod at her greeting as his voice left his throat in a bit of a tense undertone, in spite of the ghost of a smile that had crossed his face in the exchange. Riding wouldn't allow for much else, and he wasn't one for sweeping gestures in the first place.

Let alone when things have developed in this direction. Not surprised to see Haelstadt with the Cal heiress, even if I count myself surprised at her being here.

Paladin Tyaethe was, as one might have expected, growing irate with how they'd been all but led around by their noses to only turn up more questions than they'd divined answers. Privately, Gerard found himself in agreement. Less privately, his brow furrowed once more, now that he was satisfied he'd covered for Runa's delay well enough. To begin with, so much of this had already flown over his head— the unnatural murder-suicides at the fort, the unexplained presence of the Pigs, why at all Alette was there, the shard of Angoron...

He was pretty sure it all tied together somehow— it had to, really, otherwise there'd have been a cornucopia of coincidences at that fort that not even he could believe. But he'd yet to see how. They were trying to read a story that had been thrown into a fire, scrambling to find the right fragments of burnt parchment to figure out what happened. Perhaps the cooler heads among them, the more seasoned, learned, and analytical, were tying the threads together in their minds— but he was squarely stumped.

"Who's that?" Runa whispered softly, unable to place the face.

Which reminded him, there was yet someone even more lost than he, through no fault of her own.

He glanced at Sir Fleuri, who'd taken it upon himself to ride alongside and act as a fellow guiding hand— perhaps to the both of them. Gerard, after all, had not even a year on Runa's tenure. Were there anyone suited for the task, it'd be him, not somebody barely more experienced with proper knighthood.

"Veileena Cal." he replied again, gruff and low in his whisper. Given that something of a general murmur had sprouted in the mass of the small contingent that rode ahead of him, he leaned slightly to the side— not enough to throw his balance tremendously, but hopefully easier for the other two to hear. "She's the daughter of the Traitor, Phoran, if I remember right. The big one's her bodyguard, Haelstadt. Don't know if we should worry about him. I am."

And on him, Gerard's gaze wasn't wavering. He still remembered the clear aura of danger the man had worn like a cloak, even standing as an impassive decoration that evening at the ball. Behind that armor, reading him was a fool's errand. His body language was conservative, too, but in being so contained...

Gerard got the feeling that his icy nerves weren't wrong. If this went sour, the big man would be trouble. It would be like fighting the aforementioned son of the Jodeau family. A tall task, unless the pacing Paladin decided to interject. Numbers would bring any one fighter down, but like Jeremiah before him, Gerard wasn't certain he couldn't bring a few of their number down in the process.

In that case, I'm the one going for him. I can't let that man get to anyone else.

He breathed deep through the nose, before exhaling a long, slow puff out the mouth.

"I don't know how they tie into it, but at the fort we'd apparently stumbled onto the aftermath of a shard of Angoron. The mercenaries that pointed you our way were mopping up the detachment of Golden Boars that were posing as the guards garrisoned— I think. Sir Fleuri and I only found a note leading here in the Captain's quarters."

His eyes narrowed, wanting to look to either of his comrades but unwilling to leave the pillar of onyx that stood beside the Heiress. He was instead forced to speak.

"Sir Fleuri. I'm doing my best here, but this is throwin' me for a loop." he said, momentarily lapsing into his rural accent. "Has been since day broke. You saw her at the ball, right? She wasn't acting against the kingdom then. You were certain."

It wasn't a tone that questioned the older knight's judgement. Gerard held him in exemplary regard in all facets of knighthood, from courage to skill to etiquette. His instincts were no different from anything else on the list, and his word was ironclad. Was he a perfect judge of character? Nobody could be. However, as someone further along the path, Sagramore Gellert struggled to name a point when his advice wasn't sound.

"I'd kill for your read of what we've been caught up in, Sir. Aside from what we turned up a few hours ago, I'm lost as Miss— Dame Runa is. Apologies."

He had the kind of head that could tie the big picture together.

That girl hadn't been too keen on the assassination plot that had sprouted in her family's crypt, if memory served— and didn;' speak terribly lovingly of her father, nor his actions. It had exonerated her of the entire affair before it had even come into question, so...

What the hell was she doing here, in a staredown with them and apparently expecting someone else entirely?