Psyker Landshark

On the Wings of Dragons

Who would like to go with who?

@Nameless Hero

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Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Aboard the ship...

"Won't lie to your face, ma'am." The ship's captain replied gruffly to Eliane, his brow furrowed. "Command is more focused on making sure the situation doesn't spread out than actually working on containing it. We don't even know what in all hells even happened in the capital yet, but the Overseer and most of the remaining Seven're focusing on making sure the rest of the realm doesn't either." He sighed, reaching for a pipe and tobacco with a shake of his head.

"Wife and three children all still down there, and there's been no damn move whatsoever to even try to approach after the first few teams went missing. You all had better change that." A near mutinous grumble.

___

Falcon's Nest, Fortress City

Carved into the side of two opposing mountain ranges atop a river, Falcon's Nest was a testament to Skaeler artifice and ingenuity: an entirely manmade chokepoint designed to be a fortress at the very heart of Skael's territory. The great citadel came into view half an hour before the airship even reached city limits, and once it did, the craft made its way straight towards the top of one of the fortress's towers, where a landing pad had already been authorized for their use.

The moment the Kirins left the ship, Kayliss was already waiting for them on the dock, arms folded. She exhaled slowly upon seeing them.

"About time. I hope you're all still mission-capable. We need results. Quickly. The Seven are being...stubborn." Kayliss led the party into the fortress, bidding them follow through meandering halls and several guarded checkpoints before finally reaching what looked to be a meeting room, coffee and pastries steaming on a side table. After the party quickly briefed her on what had occurred since they parted ways, the spymaster took one last sip of hot brew, looking over every Warrior of Light in turn.

"Right. My end of things, then: for one, the Valheimr have made themselves known. Our long range patrols report that they've started to set up forward outposts outside of Solitude proper, though there's been no activity indicating that they've entered the city at all. High Command wants them erased off the map. But." Here, her face scrunched into something resembling frustration. "We've reports that a flock of dragons has come into contact with Blightbeasts to the east." A nod to Galahad.

"The usual migration was late this year. And Blighted dragons on our flank are the last thing we need right now. The remaining Seven won't authorize moving on Solitude until both of these threats are dealt with, and our own forces are...admittedly outstretched putting out fires across the country. I can provide some support to both groups, but you'll need to split into two teams if we want to investigate Solitude any time soon. Ask your questions and divide yourselves as you see fit. We'll deploy as soon as you're prepared."

On the Wings of Dragons

At some point, someone will get the bright idea to think the century-old wizard knows something about leadership and strategy.

To which he'll tell them to fuck off because he's the equivalent of a college professor part-timing this shit, his specialty is in slinging spells and ancient lore

On the Wings of Dragons

Magus Drugram

Name: Drugram Noldgar

Age: 109

Description: Stands at 4’4”, bearing long dark hair and a beard to match, both heavily marred with streaks of gray. Broad of shoulder and as dense in bulk as any other dwarf involved with physical activity.

Race: Dwarf

Nation: Norsinia

Magic type: Mana

Abilities:

• Stormcall: While at least capable of shaping the majority of elemental magic to a basic degree, Drugram’s specialty in the field lies in lightning. The sky’s fury comes easily to his fingertips and focus, manifesting in bolts and beams of electricity at will. While he is no millenia-old sorceress, a localized storm isn’t beyond his abilities should he have enough time to prepare and channel, as well as his entire mana reserve.
• Artifice: While not the primary focus of his magical studies, the sheer amount of dwarven lore in the field of enchanting means that Drugram has no small degree of competence in the art. His garments are altered to provide as much defensive capability as prana-enhanced armor, and he bears no few pieces of enchanted jewelry upon his person to improve his speed, mana efficiency, and raw magical might. While his artifacts may provide him with enough physical enhancements to not be instantly killed in direct melee combat with an Awakened, they aren’t enough for him to match them in close range: only to survive long enough for his spells to save him.
• Thaumaturgy: Tangible, forced change upon the physical. Shapes mana to form effects that temporarily alter natural law, such as flight, telekinesis, and short-distance teleportation. One of Drugram’s favored tricks is to swap the locations of himself and his dragon when they’re forced to be separated. The effects of thaumaturgy are far more difficult when cast upon sapient, unwilling targets, if not outright impossible in the case of teleportation. As such, the art is best used upon the self, the willing, and the inanimate.

Background:

The mountain ranges in the far reaches of Norsinia’s northern region are home to several clans of dwarves living both within and without its peaks, its populace ekeing survival from animal husbandry and trade in precious metals and crafts.

It was to one of these mountain holds that Drugram was born as an otherwise ordinary son, one among many in his clan. His gift in weaving mana was discovered before he even reached adulthood, and with the ability to wield the Art came the implicit understanding that Drugram would be a great boon to the clan should he hone his skills properly.

Over the years, Drugram studied under several different teachers across Norsinia and beyond. When he grew beyond the skills of his clan’s resident mage, he begged leave of the clan in order to further his skills before he could assume his position as a magical advisor. That permission was granted, and he spent some two decades roaming from strongholds both dwarven and human so as to advance his studies in magic. Eventually, he’d learned as much as he could, and returned to Clan Noldgar, becoming a mainstay within the community, a trusted advisor of his people’s patriarch, and a staunch defender of his people against outside threats.

Fifty years passed. At the age of eighty-and-three, Drugram found himself as the foremost among some few mages within his clan, having trained up those youths who had exhibited signs of the gift over the decades. Disaster nearly struck, however, when one of his apprentices concocted a scheme with some of the Awakened trainees within the clan, seeking to test their might and attempt to become riders of a dragon that had made its home among the peaks near Clan Noldgar’s stronghold. However, their efforts all failed to cow the wyrm, resulting in one among their number being savaged by claw and frost breath. Enraged, the silver dragon pursued the fleeing dwarves to the entrance of the hold, where Drugram stood at the gates, having pieced together their scheme from the admission of their peers. A duel commenced: mage against dragon. Frost and storm scoured the mountaintop for nearly an hour before the great beast came to a sudden halt, bowing its head. Without meaning to and with only the defense of his home in mind, Drugram had inadvertently become a dragon rider.

Over the next three decades, Drugram explored what it meant to be bonded to such a creature. His own clan had no experience with riders, and so he had no choice but to fly to Norsinia’s greatest gathering to learn from his newfound peers. To be a student once more was no great hardship to a seeker of knowledge, and he proceeded with his training apace until he and his dragon, now dubbed Granigol after dwarven myth, were as synchronized and skilled as any other rider of Norsinia. While he maintained contact with the order after his training was complete, with occasional visits and cooperation, Drugram returned home nonetheless, his desires ever focused on the defense and cultivation of his family and community.

___

Dragon name: Granigol

Type: Silver

Description:
A great, metallic wyrm bearing four legs, breath of ice, and a stature exceeding the average of his kind. A jagged, blackened scar runs across its underbelly, having been inflicted by Drugram’s lightning during the duel that made the two bonded rider and dragon.

Irritable and territorial, Granigol is snappish towards those the wyrm has little to no experience with. It took years of exposure for him to accept Drugram’s clan as part of its own territory, but he defends them and his rider with fierce, savage loyalty.

On the Wings of Dragons

@Nameless Hero

Have my concept down (dwarf mage), just looking for some clarifications before I really buckle down to work on the sheet:

1. What's the bound (upper, lower, average) on what rider mages, or mages in general, are capable of?

2. Of the amount of awakened/mages, are riders exceedingly rare even among them?

On the Wings of Dragons (No longer recruiting for now)

Also expressing potential interest. Gonna try to have a sheet sent before the end of the weekend.

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Ranbu no Izayoi

Summoned by the light of the crystal, Cid appeared in a radiant burst, standing up straight as he surveyed where he had been summoned. And blinked.

”Garuda’s rise? Why did…?” He stretched a hand out, closing his eyes as the old sage murmured a chant under his breath. Aether began to gather and well up before him...only to fizzle and dissipate when it was at its greatest concentration. The blowback of the dissipation forced Cid to open his eyes, his brow furrowed.

"What happened? Garuda is already manifested upon the material plane, but only in part. She cannot be summoned in truth like this. Was she sealed?"

One recounting of events later, Cid stroked his beard, his expression deeply troubled.

"This is a situation I've not encountered before, in all mine years upon this star. To have even part of Garuda's component aether absorbed into Ifrit's equivalent to Eve...no Eidolon can remain on this plane in multiple incarnations at once. It may not have been this Garland's intent, but the fact remains that Garuda's power is lost to you now unless this Hellfire is either defeated or uses up the aether he stole from the South Wind."

Izayoi nodded her thanks as Galahad began to heal her wounds, adding in the power of her own Cure materia in order to alleviate the burden upon him. With both that and Cid's explanation complete, she rose to her feet as she beheld the small patrol of three Skaeller airships begin to descend in response to Eliane's flare, the leadmost ship being the only one to touch ground.

From it emerged a trio of soldiers in the uniform of the air patrol, who stopped to salute the moment they saw Eliane's uniform and chevrons.

"Dame Commander! High Command has briefed us of your mission, and of Valheim's breach of our defense line. Our failure to account for their stealth frigate is inexcusable, but we can still offer you passage to Falcon's Nest. Please, if you'll follow us aboard."

Sword and Dungeon: An Adventurer's Guild-based Fantasy RP

Reeva Bonner

Oh for the love of-

Reeva resisted the urge to sigh in front of her newfound potential party, merely furrowing her brow instead. A drunk dwarf and a noble, of all things. It wasn't as if they were exactly concealing it. The black-haired one was clearly quite the sheltered woman. The whitemane much less so. Bodyguard? Attendant? Paramour? She could see all of their ranks from their badges, as well. The dwarf was as expected, but the two Hundi...

...What the hell? A copper was one thing. What was a goddesses-damned silver doing taking this work on? Definitely a bodyguard, then. Probably a romantic pairing too, judging from the body language. Well, that explained why there was a silver carrying a copper. In theory, it'd even out. In practice...

"Right, well, first things first. Name's Reeva. Pleasure. Here's the listing, if you're interested." She picked up the flyer she'd lifted from Abigail's table, passing it over towards the dwarf woman. She glanced over towards the two Hundi again, catching the eye of the white-haired one that had glanced over first. "If you're wanting to come hunt down goblins, I'll not say no. Though..." Her head inclined in Corinne's direction, while keeping an eye on Liliane. "Take it that the price for letting someone of your calibur along is letting her tag along too. Long as she knows enough to not lose her head, I'll not turn the help down."

A pause.

"She does know that, right?"

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Ranbu no Izayoi

Shot after shot pinged off of Garland's blade and the sturdier parts of his armor, the Valheimr general striving to keep his remaining pauldron between his body and Eliane's line of fire. A large Firaga fireball surged from his hand in response, aimed at the ground to catch Eliane cleanly in the blast radius on an attempted dodge. But that still cost him time.

As she had with Adrammelech, Izayoi came crashing down upon Garland, her blade greedily drawing in the aetheric bolt of lightning and redirecting it down upon the black knight in one fell cleave. For his part, Garland raised his blade to block, the electricity radiating off of the samurai's Raijingeki strike coursing off of her blade and down through his own, his armor, and himself. Garland remained silent even as lightning wracked his body, not even letting out a grunt as his arms trembled from it and the downward force of Izayoi's swing.

When the electricity fizzled away, Izayoi found herself atop blank air for a moment as Garland yanked his blade back with force, his free hand plucking her out of midair by the throat and strangling her.

"Your reputation is almost deserved." He hissed towards the Limbtaker, who snarled in response, struggling to reach for her wakizashi with her off hand. "But parlor tricks such as that will avail you little. Farewell, General." He raised his claymore, preparing to finish Izayoi off, when a hazy, grasping hand reached his greave. One quick look down at what had gripped his ankle was all it took: it left Garland taken off-guard by Chisato's cannon, and his only alarm was the sound of it firing. The shot crashed straight into his back, tearing through his cape before impacting against plate.

As Garland let a pained retch out, his grip on Izayoi loosened to the point where the Mystrel managed to suck in enough air to reach for her short blade, hastily slicing it across a connecting joint in his gauntlet to force him to drop her. She beat a hasty retreat, backstepping several paces before falling to one knee, heaving for air as she glared death at Garland.

___

Even through the pain of the Dispelja, Garuda regarded Esben for a brief moment, as if judging his worth...and stretched a claw out towards Esben's notebook, her intent obvious-

Bang.

She recoiled, a hole left in her head, and began to break apart into aether, some being sucked into Hellfire. The majority of Garuda's component aether dissipated, leaving only the source of the noise still standing:

Garland, his mantle in shreds, missing a pauldron, and his back armor in ruins, still stood, catching his breath as his left hand held a massive pistol, its barrel still smoking.

"There will be none of that. If we cannot secure Garuda's power, then neither shall you. Now, shall we continue? This dance is far from finished-"

"General!" A desperate cry came from the airship, now seemingly in the process of engine ignition. "We're out of time! Skaeler air patrols have caught on to our presence! Two minutes until they're within range!"

Garland regarded the news with stony silence, before a snap of his fingers practically warped Hellfire straight aboard the airship deck in a burst of magic.

"Unfortunate." He remarked, shifting around in his damaged armor to grip his sword. "Then we declare this a draw. Steel yourselves well for our next meeting, Warriors of Light. Pray that you survive." The same trick he just pulled saw himself aboard the stealth frigate as well, the small airship taking off as the sound of griffins and light engines alike began to roar in the distance.

From their position atop the ruined hill, all the Kirins could do was watch as the Valheimr incursion force made its escape, the Skaeler air patrol just now coming into sight.

Blades of Iron Roses: An Anime-Inspired Knight RP

Renar Hagen

That...wasn't how Renar expected to be recognized. A friend of a friend, because he'd made idle conversation about a novel with the First Princess back during the ball incident? While gratifying to note that evidently he was remembered by name, it also complicated the matter in front of him right this moment. It meant he couldn't just dismiss the Hundi woman offhand, lest his reputation suffer should it leak back to a royal, of all things.

"That would explain much, yes." He replied in an amicable, light tone. "Though I have to confess some surprise that I would be remembered so, when all I did within the First Princess's presence was discuss a novel with her. And briefly, at that." The best part was that it wasn't even a false statement. He was genuinely surprised that all of that had led to what was occurring in front of him. Though Sir Rolan being mistaken for Gerard of all people brought a smirk to his face. Oh, he'd enjoy telling the latter about this at some point.

"Ah, not particularly." Renar interjected, sharing a look with Rolan. "While I'd invite you to guess, t'would be cruel to provide a question to which you have no way to answer, considering this one had never met Her Highness before. Ought I do the honor of introducing you, or are you to do that yourself, Ser?" He posed the question to Rolan, inwardly annoyed at having to entertain any of this. How long was this farce going to have to go on...?