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3 mos ago
Current As a GM, I hate all my players in particular
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8 mos ago
joining the war on smoking, on the side of smoking
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9 mos ago
as a patreon reward I will read your least favorite person's handmade custom tabletop RPG homebrew and ask them why they didn't just run it in 5e instead
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11 mos ago
I started RP before double digit age but you couldn't have gotten an admission I was under 18 under threat of death. Kids just casually admiting it online now is wild.
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1 yr ago
the whole subway's mine for the slammin'
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Iraleth Kyrios


At least her words had an effect on some of them. Iraleth afforded those particular prospectives a nod of respect. Sometimes, all it took was to inspire people to act how they otherwise wouldn't have the courage or wherewithal to. Though others were still bragging and boasting. Lying, if she were feeling particularly cynical. Of the remaining beggars, a good portion were backing away slowly, fearful. Why?

Iraleth followed their gazes, and her narrowed gaze turned into an outright glare as she beheld Valen Leuvalt lazily preparing a Fireball spell. Arcane magic wasn't her own forte, but she had been trained to at least recognize the tells for the most common spells among the disciplines.

Was he insane?! At least that frilly half-elf girl left her victims alive, if just barely. A charged fireball? It would be base slaughter, nothing more. Damn her fatigue. Damn the plan. Damn the others. If none of them were going to try to avert this madness, she would. Iraleth grit her teeth and yanked her sword out of the floorboard it was planted in, whirling around to point the tip straight at Valen's chest.

To her pleasant surprise, the shadow witch was apparently thinking much along the same lines as her. Another point towards her not being malicious. Iraleth gave Ciara a minute nod before fixing her gaze back onto the Leuvalt boy, preparing to devote herself towards a round of combat she likely didn't have a chance of succeeding in. But she had to try.

"Agreed. I refuse to let you commit a massacre. If you have even a shred of vaunted Nero's integrity, you will stand down, Leuvalt."

@Estylwen
Renar Hagen


Renar narrowed his eyes slightly at Serenity, more for her earlier comment than her latter. His only favored brother knew of Renar's...issues with the remainder of the family, but not how deep it went. There wasn't any point in complaining of such to him, anyway. Elias was the only person of Brias blood that Renar didn't despise, and even mentioning that resentment wasn't something he wanted to introduce into their relationship.

"Let's not get into that here, shall we?" His smile became tight, and he met her gaze, his eyes sliding in Elias's direction briefly. Serenity wasn't stupid enough to not understand what that meant, certainly.

"And you know I don't name my weapons, of all things. As for a bout, I think I'll have to pass for today. Some other time, perhaps."

"You could come with us, you know." Elias piped up, to which Renar gave him a questioning look. "What? Unless we were going to head out drinking in the middle of the afternoon, I was thinking you show me around the keep first. That is, if you've no duties left for the day."

"I was only training for most of the morning." Renar shrugged. "That said, I'm not privy to Dame Serenity's schedule. If she wants to accompany us of her own volition, so be it. Otherwise, she's free to do as she wills, as per usual."

@ERode
The young man instantly flushed at his mistake, awkwardly rubbing the back of his head.

"Ah...my apologies. You look close enough to my age that I assumed...never mind." He cut himself off before digging that particular hole any deeper, instead choosing to focus on what he'd been told.

"So you know my brother? We were supposed to meet in town for drinks in the evening, but the knight I serve let me off early enough today that I thought I'd seek Renar out first. Besides, I'd always wanted to see Candaeln from the inside." A pause, as he realized something.

"Right, I'd forgotten. Elias Brias. And you, Dame Knight?"

___

Renar Hagen


Well, that had been productive. At long last, the keep smith's queue finally got around to him, and Renar had finally gotten the runes he'd discussed with Serenity inscribed onto his poleaxe. After a brief lecture regarding not depending on the runecraft, which Renar hadn't intended on in the first place, the crusty dwarf let him go, and Renar started proceeding out of the smithy's interior, out into open air. Only to hear a familiar voice.

"And you, Dame Knight?"

He blinked. Still with his poleaxe leaned vertically against his shoulder, Renar strode outside to see who else but his younger brother conversing with Serenity of all people. Huh. She must have arrived after he'd went inside to see the smith.

"Eli? What are you doing here?" A genuine smile crossed Renar's face for once, and he headed over to grasp his little brother by the forearm in greeting. "I thought we weren't meeting until tonight. To say nothing of how you managed to get past the gate guard."

"Brother," Elias smiled back, returning the warrior's greeting. "I pretended to be a messenger of our house. Said I was delivering family news to you."

Renar's smile tightened slightly at the reminder of the rest of their shared family.

"Lying is unbecoming of an anointed knight, little brother. Good work." They released their grip, and Renar turned to Serenity. "I hope he wasn't interrupting anything. The runework is done, anyhow." A brief shift of the axe head resting flat on his shoulder. "My thanks again for the suggestions. Are we in the way?"

@ERode
???


An unknown face appeared at the entrance to the forge, looking around with a searching gaze. At first glance, he seemed to be a squire of some sort, a blonde teenager just a few years younger than Serenity, clad in a gambeson and with a simple arming sword sheathed at his side.

A glance around showed him only Serenity in the immediate area, and he approached, an easy smile on his lips.

"Excuse me," He raised a hand in greeting, patiently waiting for Serenity to finish up her work before speaking to him. "Apologies for bothering you, but I'm looking for someone. Have you seen a knight with brown hair and an orcish cloak? Usually carries a poleaxe? I've been looking all over Candaeln for him, and considering he wasn't at the training grounds, this was the next best thing."

The boy gazed at Serenity curiously after finishing, his expression betraying no mockery or malice.

"Are you one of the apprentices here at the forge? Or a squire like me? I'd been under the impression your order didn't take squires, barring some exceptions."

@ERode
Ranbu no Izayoi


Izayoi allowed Galahad a moment with his father, but it seemed the effort was wasted. Evidently, House Caradoc had a severe difference in opinion between its patriarch and heir. Unexpected, but not exactly surprising. She hadn't exactly connected the dots herself between Galahad and Artorias for some time, to her shame. Other matters had preoccupied Izayoi's mind ever since Balmung Castle, and she had been trying her best to forget the war for half a decade.

What came as more of a surprise, though, was Galahad's mother. Far less cold than Artorias, though it remained to see how long that would last. Izayoi deliberately turned her back on the scene, as if making to leave.

"We will be returning to the lodge then, dragoon." Izayoi said before the Caradoc matron seemingly waved the topic aside with a scoff.

"Oh, none of that, my dear. The offer extends to all of my son's companions as well, you know."

Both Izayoi and Artorias alike stared incredulously at her for this. Did...she not know whom she was speaking to? The two former enemies held a look between them of shared incomprehension before sense took over and it devolved to mutual glaring.

"So that you can poison my plate?" Izayoi accused, folding her arms together. "Sensible. I would do the same in your place."

"Psh, hardly. Were my husband or my boy to want you dead, they would do so from the front, like proud Caradoc men. Isn't that right?"

For a moment, Izayoi could only feel contempt for the utter lack of care the woman was showing. To be so relaxed, in front of a sworn enemy of one's own country. And yet...wasn't that sort of carefree housewife the woman she'd been trying to be until just six months ago? Taking that into account, her expression softened just a bit. Besides, judging from the lord Caradoc's expression, he hadn't intended on Izayoi's attendance, likely ruling out a preplanned poisoning attempt. And even if he still tried...well, there was always the ignominy of resorting to breaking guest right in order to kill her. Even high nobility weren't immune to social repercussions.

With a sigh, Izayoi unclipped her cloak and followed after their hosts.

___

Dinner was a far more formal affair than the banquet at Balmung. Ironic how similarly meals with the nobility went among both Edrenians and Ospreans. Multiple small courses brought one by one, with the only discourse being catching the lord Artorias up on what had happened but two nights ago. His reaction at the news suggested some sort of displeasure, but he didn't voice such. Judging by what could be inferred, no doubt he wouldn't speak ill of his own liege despite the fact that he evidently disagreed with Leonhardt's decision.

As the soup was cleared off the table by the servants to make way for the fish course, Artorias steepled his hands in front of his chin, looking at each of the party in turn.

"You whom travel with my son: I would know more of why you would embark on such a quest. Is it gold? Fame? Ideals?" The latter was spoken in a highly doubtful tone.

"Valheim occupies my homeland. In light of that, I set aside all other debts of blood. Your people invaded mine just the same as they did, but at least Edren did not stay after their victory and slowly choke the life out of Osprey." Izayoi said flatly. "Furthermore, the Blight most likely originates with them." She refused to elaborate, already having spoken more to Lord Caradoc without insults than she cared to. Still, if someone else wished to expand on that, she wasn't going to stop them.
Iraleth Kyrios


Iraleth barely protested or responded as she was helped up by the other two girls, though she did offer a weak nod as thanks. As for what was going on...she didn't approve. Not entirely, at least. But at least the Strigdae concocting this grandiose lie was doing it for seemingly good reasons. There'd been enough pointless violence enacted today among what were supposed to be each other's peers. If this chicanery would cut down on it, she could live with that.

As Otis went on and on, Iraleth focused on maintaining the illusion of strength, standing straight and with her sword planted into the stage's floorboards. Being able to use her sword as a crutch was the only thing keeping her standing at this point, though she put all of her effort into not betraying her exhaustion or lingering pain.

The same feeling of intrusion into her mind from earlier returned, but outside of the heat of battle, Iraleth could more clearly understand what was going on this time. Mind-linking magics. Useful. Very useful. She would have put more thought into the matter, but something else caught her full attention just then.

Valen Leuvalt. An apparent scion of Nero's family, who claimed to also have the dream of resurrecting the Wings of Nero. Would that have been all, Iraleth would have thought much more highly of the boy. But then he revealed that he was nothing more than another arrogant princeling. Worse yet, one with power, just like Bronsteel before him. Iraleth didn't bother hiding the look of contempt on her face as she beheld Valen simply lounging around on a golden throne.

This was the most recent legacy of the Leuvalts? Not the Star Sorcerer, who gave up everything for the sake of the world? Not vaunted Nero, whose cause she wanted nothing more than to bring back? Instead, they had an arrogant, grasping boy looking down at everyone like they were trash. Record damn him, if Iraleth had even an ounce of strength, she'd challenge him right here and now, everything else be damned. Everything about Valen was a threat to Nero's legacy, especially if he managed to actually rally support behind himself, doubtful as it was with his odious attitude.

Iraleth's sheer contempt for him echoed across the mind link before she realized what she was doing and caught herself, suppressing her emotions behind iron will. Instead, she forced herself to look back down at the clamouring crowd of hopefuls that decided to beg and plead. In their place, even though none of her talents or abilities exactly related to crafting a seat of some kind, she would have at least tried. Jamming two planks of wood into a larger one wasn't exactly the hardest thing in the world.

The shadow witch asked for those with virtuous hearts. Iraleth could see where this was going. They'd all claim such, barring a select few that were likely closer to the truth than they believed. She looked down at the crowd with a stoic gaze, putting as much effort as she dared into raising her voice enough to be heard.

"Frankly, I'd rather you make an effort at what was asked. Begging is beneath you. All of you. Do you want to have managed admission to Wingram on your knees, or would you rather earn your place?" Hopefully, that would galvanize at least some of them. If nothing would, then they were beyond help.
Kayliss Lambert


Kayliss didn't know what she had been expecting, really. From her read on Lady Velvetica, doing something like ordering Sir Istvan's permanent silencing would have been wildly out of character. That didn't mean she wasn't at least a little disappointed that the lady wasn't offering any real solutions for the moment, but it was only to be expected.

"I understand." She bowed her head for a moment before looking back up at her employer. "I left the matter open-ended with Sir Istvan, but I directed the conversation in a direction that more or less implied the same as what you currently say." Kayliss's stare was blank as usual.

"Will there be anything else, my lady? Forgive my saying, but you've not exactly been making much use of me outside of the battlefield. So long as you work in service of the Crown, you continue to retain access to a resource that many nobles would literally kill to possess." She betrayed no hesitation in referring to herself as a mere tool. Evidently, Crownsblade indoctrination was extensive.

"I remain at your disposal rather than at the king's direct command for a reason."

@VitaVitaAR
@Nanaya

Real quick, would Iraleth know if Valen is who he says he is? As in, did the Leuvalt family have descendants up to the present day?
Banshee


The rest of the squad were...a mixed bag, at best. Only one other pilot that bothered with any sort of comms etiquette. Probably former military, like her. The rest obviously weren't. At least everyone managed to neatly fit themselves into team compositions, though the one piece of obvious new meat had Ariela rolling her eyes. Fucking figures they'd get saddled with some wet-behind-the-ears greenhorn that couldn't even work the comlink correctly. To say nothing of her callsign. God damned mercs.

VALKYRIE proved herself as indispensible as ever in providing information that everyone already knew, only just now forwarding a squad setup that mirrored exactly what they had chosen already. Great. Real cutting-edge piece of tech. Still, one thing crossed her mind in which the fucking AI could actually contribute for once.

<<"VALKYRIE, request. Make yourself useful and set up two sub-channels in the comm-net and place our squads one in each. Less hassle if we can keep channels clearer during combat.">> With that said, she didn't bother waiting for an affirmative, instead finishing final preparations to deploy.

Main system online.
All systems nominal.
Activating combat mode.


The order to launch came.

<<"Pilot Banshee, AUG LINEBREAKER. Deploying.">> A slight grin crossed Ariela's face as the catapult rocketed her off, following after Redknight's MORDRED. Her armor crashed into their landing zone, and it rose, rifles already primed and raised as Banshee checked their surroundings. No immediate contacts yet. Good.

<<"Landing zone clear!">> She cried over the full team's comms, already checking the current topographical data and communications sensors. <<"Everyone ready to die? If the opfor's not sleeping on the job, they'll notice us soon enough. Let's form up and move, no slacking!">>
I probably won't post twice this round, but assume Iraleth takes the hand she's offered.
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