Psyker Landshark

On the Wings of Dragons

Drugram Noldgar

A silver dragon landed upon the plateau where they'd all been set to meet, and Drugram hopped off Granigol with naught but a brief grunt of exertion. As the others arrived, Drugram gave each of them an inquisitive stare before returning to his ruminations, waiting patiently until they had all gathered. Would that those in command had bothered to a more detailed dossier on the fellow leading them than that he'd survived a Kovosian attack on his home nation. Still, between that and being actually trained to command, Drugram wouldn't begrudge this Caleb boy his position.

Ancestors knew that he didn't want such a burden of leadership upon himself, after all. There had been conversations when all of this mustering had begun. Surely, some said, a century-old man had some idea of how to lead. He'd shut that line of thought down as soon as he'd heard it. Magic was his one great specialty. Not leadership, not warfare, not tactics. It didn't matter how many scraps he'd gone through when he was young. That was hardly any substitute for formal education in battlefield tactics and strategy.

There came a point when he realized he ought to introduce himself rather than think. Drugram stepped forward, beating a fist against his chest once.

"Aye, ser." He nodded, taking care to look more respectful than curt. Nevertheless, some of Caleb's words had him thinking.

"Engage only when engaged upon? Lord Evermoore, was it? This a missive from High Command?" He left Caleb that one out, just in case. Nevertheless, the idea of not striking first sat poorly with Drugram. This was already an invasion. Any pretense to first strike or cassus belli was pointless. He had very little intention of usurping the human's command, considering how much Drugram didn't want that responsbility for himself. But it was a pertinent question, nonetheless.

Drugram sideeyed the other two riders in their squadron after, trying to recall if he'd ever heard of or read up upon them. One more mage, at least. As well as a complete unknown. His inquisitive stare lasted a moment more, before Caleb mounting up had his own self clambering back onto Granigol.

"Understood. We'll take off as you do."

On the Wings of Dragons

post'll be coming in the day, had to catch up on other posts but this'll be out soonish

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Eastern Skael, Alenmiers

"Aye, ser!" The sergeant saluted, bellowing orders back to the helm to land. Deboarding was quick, and the soldiers gathered up, setting out alongside Galahad, Miina, and Izayoi on foot towards the mountain and the dragons. Once they'd nearly reached the site, the Skaelers split up to set up fire support as Galahad instructed, readying and loading rifles while getting firing lines.

For her part, Izayoi refrained from drawing her blade just yet, her brow furrowed as her ears twitched. She narrowed her eyes, trying to concentrate and hear past the sound of dragons roaring.

"Something has been bothering me since we began to make our approach. 'Tis almost as if we're being watched." She grunted, a hand falling to the hilt of her sword. "Keep an eye upon our flanks and rear as we engage. The chance of another encounter with that damned spy is hardly zero."

They took the final steps up toward the mountain path, and a stray dragon on the edge of the battle noticed them first. It roared, Blight dripping from its fangs, and the remaining flight of dragons began to look in their direction, wings splayed out to take flight. By this point, there were perhaps only one or two un-Blighted dragons remaining, with half a dozen writhing on the ground in the throes of infection. And ten in the full throes of Blight. Izayoi drew her sword, wind beginning to gather along the blade.

"Now, Miina! Galahad, at your ready!"

___

Southern Skael, North of Solitude

From over the ridge, the Valheimr patrol finally came into hearing range. Raised voices, agitated tones, to the point of near-panic, surprisingly. A dozen men bearing guns and sabers, holding the leashes of five barking, yapping hounds. If the yips were anything to go by, their presence wasn't completely made just yet. The dogs were alert and searching, to be certain, but it didn't seem that they had a definite scent.

"Keep searching! He can't have gone far!"

"Damn it, how the hell did that bastard thief even live long enough to break through the quarantine?!"

"Shut up and keep your damn eyes open! If this gets back to the higher-ups, we're never getting off garrison duty again!"

Searching for someone, it seemed. From her vantage point, the raid captain narroweed her eyes and moved her finger onto the trigger of her rifle, but held her fire. A cursory glance across the assembled skirmishers revealed no suspicious tells. Or at least, none that were obvious. They were all prepared to open fire at a moment's notice.

"It's one fucking mystrel, and a damn redhead at that! How in all hells have we not even seen a single red hair in the middle of all this godsforsaken snow?!"

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Eastern Skael, Alenmiers

"Aye, sir. We've spare radios for your lot as well. Albinsson!" The sergeant turned to call out towards a startled private. "Get our guests some damn radios already, would you?"

While that was being attended to, Izayoi simply nodded in agreement with Galahad's battle plan, electing to spend the rest of the voyage leaned against the deck railing, simply staring out towards the mountains.

She had wanted to deal with the camps herself. Despite Reisa's blood on her hands cooling no small amount of her fury, Valheim as a whole still drew a significant amount of ire from Izayoi. But this was the more tactically expedient option. Months before, she might have insisted otherwise. But now...well. If nothing else, the bonus of annoying Esben with her move had been at least somewhat worth it.

Minutes passed. As the airship drew closer, those aboard heard it before they saw it: the roars of dragons. Screeching and howling in what seemed to almost be...pain? And then the sight came into view: dragon attacking dragon, the ones on the offensive in a mad fury. A closer view with a spyglass would confirm the obvious theory: the attackers were practically leaking Blight from their fangs and wounds.

"This ought be the limit of how far we fly." Izayoi tucked the radio she was given into her robes, adjusting her kote's fit. "I should think it would be better if we make haste to fall upon them before the Blighted ones emerge victorious. 'Tis better that they all be distracted than a few dead and the rest Blighted."

___

Southern Skael, North of Solitude

"A few days old. Only thing to add is that by all accounts, they're refusing to even get near the city limits. Not even to rotate and resupply." The raid captain rubbed her chin in contemplation, but eventually gave it up as a bad job.

"Either way, I agree. Initial scouting first. Then we finalize our plan of attack-"

"Captain!" A hurried, hushed cry came up from the front of the group: another raider. "Valheimr patrol of a dozen, damn near on top of us ahead. Visual as soon as you crest over the hill. We got damn unlucky in picking our landing zone: they're heading our way."

"Birdshite!" The woman in charge hissed, flicking the safety off of her longarm. "We've had this landing zone marked out for days! Their patrols haven't ranged out this way at all, they had to have known we were coming...damn it! Form up, you lot! Ambush positions!"

On the Wings of Dragons

Drugram Noldgar

A dwarf sat cross-legged atop a snowy peak, clad in a heavy cloak that billowed behind him from gusts and gales. Cold air. Harsh winds. Home. Or as close to it as he could get. He closed his eyes, exhaling slowly. Mana gathered to Drugram, coalescing into his body as he centered himself, meditating.

While he was an outlier among the local riders in that he didn't dedicate his whole life to the cause, only a shortsighted fool would have turned down the call once it was known that those grasping bastards to the east were preparing to invade. So he'd left his clanhold with the full blessing of his people, leaving the most promising of his apprentices to advise and defend in his place during his absence.

Sparks of lightning danced around Drugram's seated form as he continued to gather and focus his mana for the day ahead, taking more time than usual in charging his reserves. It had been some years since he'd engaged in any serious combat, and the prospect of such was looking more and more likely with every day that passed since the Alliance formed. Tactics and application of magic flew through his head, with Drugram trying to recall his battles and practical lessons. Anti-mana, anti-prana, and anti-dragon tactics went through his mind, all reviewed and looked over to see if they could be improved. At some point, the ground rumbled as a silver-scaled dragon touched down on the peak with a huff, giving his rider a brief look before settling into a resting position next to the dwarf.

Half an hour passed. Drugram opened his eyes, the last few sparks around him dissipating as he exerted full control over his mana. The wizard rose to his feet, reaching for a staff that he'd laid to his side with one hand as he leaned over to pet Granigol on the snout with his other hand.

"Ready then, old goat?" He huffed, reaching into a satchel on his belt to pull out a stick of jerky that he offered up. The dragon snatched it eagerly, devouring the morsel in a single bite as his rider mounted up atop his back. "Right, you know the drill. Behave yourself around the other dragons. They're not rivals for your damn territory or any sort of competition. Don't be a cunt, and we'll not need to have this lecture again."

It was a familiar refrain, said without heat, and Granigol simply snorted briefly before taking off with a mighty flap of his wings.

"...Kovosian dragons're free game, of course. More brutal you are, more chance they might lose their nerve. Anything to get this damn fool war over with faster."

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Ranbu no Izayoi

Izayoi silently listened to the byplay between Esben and Rudolf, as well as Galahad's brief explanation of dragons to Miina. There was no small portion of the latter that she was already aware of: her master had taken her to the Midgari mountains once upon a time to use the beasts as a test for her. Regardless, it was only after everyone else had said their piece that she deigned to open her mouth.

"Then the matter is decided," She looked to Kayliss, who nodded back. "Galahad, Miina, and I will intercept the dragons. The remainder will deal with the Valheimr forward camps."

"Good." Kayliss responded, a mug of coffee in her hands where there had been nothing before. "Then we'll discuss your support. An airship and crew for both parties, with a section of a dozen men for support, each. I would've liked to give you a platoon a piece, but we don't have enough available men on standby for that. I'll be rerouting all returning forces down towards Solitude, so we're on a strict timetable to deal with both situations as soon as possible." She snapped her fingers, and two soldiers entered the room, saluting.

"They'll lead you to your respective airship docks, and I've already had maps and any tactical reports available sent ahead to the ships. Good luck and godspeed to all of you, Ithar willing. Move out as soon as you're ready."

Izayoi nodded back, turning towards the still-assembled Kirins. "Galahad, I will go fetch Miina. The rest of you, do stay safe." Her expression passed over Elly, Chisato, Rudolf, and Esben, softening slightly. "Esben, keep them in line." With that said, she turned and left the room, presumably searching for Miina.

___

Eastern Skael, Alenmiers

The voyage towards the Alenmier mountain range last reported to be assailed by dragons was quick, taking mere hours. With an hour left until sunset, the first of the mountains began to come into view. No visible dragons as of yet, but the skies were eerily calm.

The dozen men Kayliss had assigned to them gathered up on deck, standing at parade rest as their sergeant nodded respectfully to the three Warriors of Light.

"Sir, ma'ams, we'll be coming up on the target area shortly. Where do you want us to set down? Alenmiers're usually more treacherous by air this time of year, but looks like we're having an easy time of it today."

___

Southern Skael, North of Solitude

At the same time, the airship the other half-and-more of the Kirins had taken set down some miles from the farthest reported Valheimr camp, its attached skirmishers already disembarking.

"Sir!" A woman in heavy riding furs saluted as the remainder of her men touched down on the ground. "Orders? Last report estimates four camps in total within the area."

On the Wings of Dragons

@Nameless Hero

Just mentioning briefly in case there's confusion that magus isn't his first name, I just slapped that on as his title.

The Envenomed: Military Science Fiction Deniable Operations

Salvator Rasch

Fuck. EMP?! Salvator swore vociferously under his breath as his HUD and comms crashed, immediately switching to his mask's redundant analog sight and reacquiring visual. They were made by...something. He couldn't even assume it was an etheric horror, if the lack of ether was any indication. Either way, this bode poorly.

By the time comms reestablished, Salvator nodded in response to Alice, considering their options. A flicker of purple out of the corner of his eye cemented it, and he raised his carbine, his rebooted HUD trying to lock in on the signal. Fuck's sake. A brief glance towards the drone just floating there reinforced how much the squad needed an actual tech expert, rather than relying on a secondary team. Something to bring up with leadership if and when they made it out of this mess alive.

"Right. Ilshar, back Alice up. Echo, Kleo, eye on the drone. Try to radio our support, see if they can backtrace it if you can get a direct uplink. King, with me. We've got a runner." He grunted, getting a running start before blinking away in a warp jump. The voidhanger reappeared atop the trailer the purple unknown had emerged from, trying to acquire it visually for King to secure.

"Marking it on your HUD now. Nonlethal capture if you can, but not at the cost of your own safety. Want to see what we're dealing with."

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

Reeva Bonner

How in all hells had a mission requesting no less than iron rank wind up with two coppers in the party?! The Hundi noble at least came with a silver ranker jointed at the hip to her, but some fucking elf novice had also managed to tag along! Reeva resisted the urge to hold her head in her hands, much less groan out loud. Babysitting novices was always such a hassle, especially when her own skillset didn't quite lend itself to such things. Would that they could have found any sort of dedicated meatshield. As it stood, the ranger woman with the axe was the closest damned thing.

"Right," She nodded in response to the request she'd been given, as they all stared up at the fort's gate and walls. "Not as if I wasn't planning on scouting ahead, anyway." Thankfully, Liliane had enough tactical acumen to befit her rank. A crumbling, dilapidated fort ought to be old hat, regardless. The supports would be irritating to evade on the climb up. Damned creaky wood.

Reeva folded her arms, mentally mapping her route out. Once she had it memorized, the sneak hunched slightly, prepared to take a running start toward the wall.

"You all feel free to investigate while I get a good look atop the wall and into the courtyard. If the gate's locked, let me try to get it open from the top. And keep quiet, yeah? Don't need all the goblins awake and pissed."

With that said, she sprinted for the wall, getting a running, jumping start before starting to clamber with alacrity. Her climbing and leaping was planned just well enough to evade the wooden noise traps, jumping back and forth as a monkey would. A hand reached the edge of the walltop. She didn't pull herself up all the way just yet, instead slowly peeking her head over to see if there were any goblins atop the wall, or anything that made noise on the floor.

Blades of Iron Roses: An Anime-Inspired Knight RP

Renar Hagen

He'd already assumed so, but it was still useful in some way to know that Lizaelea's, and by extension, the princess's, information was limited to the time of the ball. While the girl was distracted with whatever went through her head, Renar let the mask slip for just a moment and shot an irritated glance Rolan's way at his deflection, knowing exactly what the other man was going for here. He damned well wasn't leaving Renar to deal with this himself.

"You can hardly be faulted for not knowing of events that have transpired since your last correspondence." Renar cut in smoothly, having determined that the Hundi had floundered enough. It was getting just a tad annoying, anyway. "A forgiveable mistake, all in all. Worry not."

Her next inquiry brought one very specific face to his mind. And a question, asked only to himself. Was it worth showing any of his hand in this matter? Fleuri knew of Renar's desire to face him, to be certain. But it was almost guaranteed that anything he told this girl would leak. To the First Princess, if nothing else. Was it worth such? Hell, did it even matter? Should Renar be lucky enough to get Fleuri in the draw, the entire damned kingdom would know. Ah, well. Why not let it slip. Better that than feigning humility.

"Sir Fleuri, of course. Also of the Iron Rose. The Flower of the North, as claimed by more avid tourney-goers than you or I. And for that matter," He glanced to Rolan once more. If Renar had to sit thorugh this, he wasn't letting the other knight slip out of it so easily. "Remind me, Sir Rolan. Were you planning to take part in the Valours?"