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@Pseudo Stygian: Yeah, we're still open and will probably go live once more people roll around.
@Kazemitsu: Er... I am... Fairly certain that your character would not mesh well with the main cast of PCs. Maybe in the world as a whole, but definitely not as a force anyone here would want to be associated with. At all. Going to have to decline him since a character so deeply rooted in that mindset would be removed... More or less ASAP if he wasn't chucked at the humans since he's way too dangerous to keep around.
(Also the fact that it's difficult to parse what you're saying since the language used in the bio is far more informal than it should be, as well as being very disjointed on top of that, but I digress.)

@Crimson Paladin: Looks fine, though that random pound sign in the middle there should be... Fixed.
Anyways, you're fine to swap the characters out now, yes.
Tiral was silent as the knights rode forth towards their destination, quietly mulling over the situation in his head. It was obvious that there were bigger forces at play, and he was sure most of the other knights had come to a similar conclusion, but the fact of the matter is that they didn't know what that force was. Obviously, interrogating the orcs wasn't an option, much less the trolls, so all that was left to be done right now was eliminate them all.

Once the rest of the more melee-oriented knights charged forth into battle, Tiral quietly took out his dagger from its hiding spot and held it out in front of him. The sight of Marianne's own attack made him feel some sort of joy as a pseudo-mentor, but not was not the time to be acting so amused by something of that nature. There was a large enemy and it would take a while for their own knights to reach the enemy, which meant that bombardment without worry of friendly fire could only be done now.

Rapidly chanting under his breath, Tiral closed his eyes as he began to give form to the attack in his mind. An attack with enough damage to sow chaos into the enemy ranks from the start, with enough range to reach enough of the battlefield, and to make use of the bombardment out of the field already. There was already an idea in mind, and it didn't take long for his own magic to start taking form. One after another, icicles shaped like ornate blades that seemed to shimmer in the light like glass began to launch from behind him. One after another, almost as if they were in tune with the galloping of the horses to their front, the ice soared through the air and, catching the light of the lightning arrows above them, created a dazzling and chaotic distortion of light as they landed. The bodies of the orcs near the enemy raid's rear were run through before long, leaving a wall of weapons made of ice blocking their retreat.

The attack had eaten through a considerable amount of his own mana stores, though; luckily, by this point he had become used to finding ways to regenerate enough to keep in a fighting state. If would be foolish to only contribute this and nothing else, of course.
Aye, more people is always nice. Kinda... Waiting in limbo for more, actually lol.
Kumozaki Keisuke

"I mean, I never said you had to cook too," Keisuke responded to Tamamo's comment, attempting to make use of what little he knew about Western cooking techniques in order to try and reduce the red wine in a separate pan. The sound of the sizzling sea serpent steak against the sea waves battering against the ship gave the Enforcer an odd mental image of a seaside barbecue, though obviously the current scenario was far more serious than something like that. But regardless of how silly the scene seemed, he still had to follow through on his initial plan. Given how the other two Archers seemed more content with waiting around, the Enforcer figured that Tamamo would likely attempt to cook on her o-

"...Ah, you're a little close," Keisuke commented as the leonine Archer sidled up to him to try and get first crack at the food. "But, well... I guess you mean the other Argonauts, right? If we've met Medea and we're in Trojan War-era Greece, I wouldn't say that meeting them isn't completely out of the question. At the same time, though... Given current trends, I'm not sure if I want to."

With that said, Keisuke warily nodded and took the katana that Nobunaga was offering to him, holding himself back from commenting on how a Servant whose strengths revolved around removing Mystery wanted to be secretive. There was a fair bit of irony there, but he would let it slide.

For now.

As Keisuke continued to cook the meat, Medea finally made her way out from the ship's lower level, the now-complete propeller (and some other miscellaneous modifications) floating above her head. With a simple sidelong glance at Atalanta's distance from Keisuke, the Caster let out a deep sigh and, deciding it was better not to add any more fuel to that fire, simply walked over to the back of the boat and began to attach everything where it needed to go.

The installation of the equipment didn't take long, and as by that time the steak had already seemed to be cooked, Keisuke took the meat off the makeshift cooking fire and placed it on a separate dish. With a wary glance at the katana (and remembering, of course, what katanas were used for), the Enforcer opted to put it off to the side and running off to grab plates and an actual cooking knife from the storage (as well as some sort of utensils for eating). A minute later, and he returned with exactly that in hand. By his logic, if the meat cooked in the same amount of time that it would take normal fish to cook and the scales were the only thing really protecting it, then its meat could very well have been as easy to cut with a normal blade as it might have with a supernaturally sharp one.

Drizzling the wine-and-soy-sauce mixture on top of the fish and tossing a few more spices on the meat, Keisuke spun the knife in his hand around as he attempted to cut it.

Clean. Good. So it did have culinary potential.

"...Y'know, I'm questioning why I did all this right now, but I guess good food is the spice of life... Or something," he said, shrugging his shoulders as he cut up the seared sea serpent and placed some on each plate. "Well... Here's to trying something new."

With a nod of his head, Keisuke brought the meat to his mouth and, with a stoic expression on his face, took a single bite.


"Hey, this isn't half bad."

It didn't take long after that comment for Medea to notify the group that the modifications were in order, and soon after the ship began to move at a breakneck pace far outmatching its earlier speed. Luckily, nothing or no one was actually blown off thanks to Medea's magic, but the rapidly shifting scenery and the wake left behind the ship was certainly a testament to its newfound speed.

A few hours later, and the ship was left to dock at its destination, a definite amount of time earlier than expected.

"We've arrived. Our first order of business is to examine the Labyrinth," Medea said, lowering the bridge to let the group disembark safely. "of course, I myself am not sure of whether or not we'll be met with—"

Before she could finish that sentence, though, a singular arrow whizzed by her head and harmlessly bounced off the exterior of the ship; soon after, a group of solders seemed to march up and point their weapons at the Servants.



Just as he braced himself for impact, Ozymandias watched as the beast's maw was clamped shut by Arturia in the midst of its attack, causing the energy that was about to be let loose at him to instead run amok inside of itself. It only took a few moments before the creature's head was unable to take the resulting pressure from within, causing it to pop like a gore-filled balloon. The shower of gore was almost comical, but Ozymandias, deciding he would take no part in this, took another step back and fired a barrage of lasers downwards in fron of himself to prevent any of that mess from reaching him.

Not long after the headless creature's limb body fell to the ground, the golden theater surrounding the group seemed to dissipate back into nothingness. The clear skies above-head and calm waters made it feel as if there was nothing wrong to begin with. The giant corpse in the middle of the sea that was releasing gallons of blood into the water, however, was a different story entirely.

"Well done, you two," Ozymandias stated, nodding his head before noticing that Arturia was now drenched from head to toe in the blood, bone fragments, and scattered brain matter of the deceased monster. A frown crossed his face and his displeasure was made quite clear as the pirate captain took back the wheel and turned the vessel away from the corpse and back on towards their target.

A few hours later, just as the other group made landfall, so did this one. Medusa, of course, was the first to disembark, but the sight of two nearly formed rows of stone soldiers that stood at with their weapons ready yet utterly unmoving caused her to grimace.

"...I don't like the feeling I'm getting from these..." she muttered to herself as the other Rider followed suit, his eyes trained on the stone soldiers as he walked off the boat.

"Hm. odd. Their faces show no trace of emotion, almost as if they were statues here. Is that what they are, Medusa?"

@VitaVitaAR@Rin@RolePlayerRoxas@Raineh Daze@KoL@Grey Star
@TheFake: Accepted.

Anyways... Yeah. More people would be nice, though. :3c
@Grec: Ah... I don't think I can let that go as-is, man. It's nigh impossible to get them to act with the core group and I honestly didn't plan on having any humans interfere for a long while in the RP. Same goes for their allies. So... Yeah.
@Grec: Well, yeah. Magic's a universal thing in this sorta setting, and it's not like that other side of stuff wouldn't exist.

Again, 'mage' is more a class than a term, so you can't just drop them all in the same category, mate.

Edit: @Crimson Paladin Form accepted. Whee~
@Grec: Mage is more a class than a race lol. So it's a bit more vague in that regard, I guess?
And... No, they would not be.
  • Name: Dengran Minsau
  • Appearance: "Are you prepared for the trials to come?"
  • Gender: Male
  • Race: Draconic (Lightning)
  • Age: 26
  • Personality: Dengran is a fairly confident individual, though not to the point of arrogance or impudence as his other Demon King peers may be. He is, at heart, a pragmatist, which has led to his current viewpoint that the war should be resolved by other, less warlike means. This does not mean to say that he is a pacifist, of course, as he is perfectly willing to shed blood if it means taking another step towards peace. Though he himself has no desire to rule, one way or another things ended up happening and he ended up where he is now.
  • Abilities: As a Draconic, Dengran is able to channel the power of his dragon ancestors and use their abilities in human form; in this case, it means he is able to manipulate and create electricity without the mandatory usage of magic, has increased durability and strength, and has the ability to, however temporarily, transform into a dragon himself. Of course, while he remains in human form, he is quite proficient in the usage of a greatsword and bow and will not hesitate to use his surprising dexterity and speed to his advantage.
  • Equipment: As mentioned earlier, Dengran wields a greatsword and bow in battle, though if he has a choice the former is vastly preferable to use over the latter. The armaments themselves are of fairly standard make, though given his position as one of the candidates for the throne he has since begun searching for weapons of higher quality that suit his style. Aside from that, his robe is woven with threads of arachne silk that amplify its resistance to physical damage hundredfold, and the amulet he wears around his neck functions as an emergency teleportation measure (though it becomes burnt out for a long while after he uses it once).
  • History: Born in a small clan in the mountain ranges near Hahava, Dengran had the fortune (or misfortune) of being one of the only surviving children of his generation after a combined military draft and famine struck the region. To say that it left something of an impression on him would be an understatement; rather, the entirety of this decade molded him who he was today. Trained by the elders of his clan and given almost all the remaining resources to make sure that he carried on the legacy of his people if worst came to worst, Dengran never forgot those years of barely scraping by. When aid never came from the capital, his internal detestment of the rulers in Sanjiva only grew, and everything reached a fever pitch when he was told that the war had not only ended in failure, but that most of those who had left from his clan had been used as "heroic sacrifices" to secure the escape of the top brass who had sallied forth to battle. While he hated the state of constant warfare, though, he understood it because of all the old and wisened elders of the clan, and in turn learned why such a state would not only be unsustainable, but also eventually lead to the fall of Tsukran.
    It was by chance, of course, that he was picked as one of the Demon King candidates; his training and growth had caught the eye of one of the inspectors from the capital, and Dengran was essentially drafted into the position. Rather than deliberately sabotage himself, the young draconic decided to take this chance to try and reform the nation from the inside, in order to avoid such a tragedy from happening again. He knew as well as anyone else that it was a dream among dreams, but he was one of the lucky few who could turn that into something.
  • Other: The form he changes into is what's behind him. Just for clarity's sake.
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