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Esben Mathiassen




Their combined strikes quickly wore away at Adrammelech; with odds of one against seven, that was an entirely foregone conclusion. A destroyed joint in a wing, a blinded eye, and still they chipped away at the rest. Izayoi turning the lesser eidolon's own attack back against him was an unexpected turn, but with the deep, blackened gash rent straight through Adrammelech's armour revealing softer flesh beneath, Esben wasn't going to complain about the surprise. He just had to come up with the best way for them to exploit it—

He blinked as Adrammelech did. Without a thought he dashed forward, his blade whipping out of its scabbard to intercept the bolt of lightning that was flying for Selene, his muscles convulsing for a moment as the energy blasted through him and into the ground. He slid to a stop, confident that both of his fairies had escaped retribution for the moment—indeed, Eos was already working to try and keep Rudolf from getting literally cooked by the electricity that had been coursing through his body repeatedly—and looked to the flames that were now interposed between Miina, her spike, and the falling spirit.

If that would occupy it...

"Galahad, get behind his head and yank it back! I don't care if you grab his horns or bridle him with your halberd, just get it done!" he shouted. Forcing head and shoulders back would only serve to open him up further. "Izayoi, you and I are wrestling one arm, Rudolf has the other! Chisato, Éliane, as soon as we've got him open concentrate fire on that hole in his chest!"

If he was a bit closer, he would've tried to run and get Miina out from under the spike and the black flame before the draconic being crashed into it, but running to save Selene put him just out of reach. Ideally she could capitalize on it to get out on her own; if not, she'd be in the perfect position to fire off into Adrammelech's chest herself, so he wasn't too worried about how she'd factor into this next attack. Assuming she wasn't entirely crushed, although given what Cid had told them about not getting killed and their hurts being healed after, that didn't seem too great a worry.

Instead, he rushed for the hand that he and Izayoi were the closest to, reaching out to pin it with his sword and force the spirit's arm back to forcibly expose the gash in his chest.
Fionn MacKerracher




The falconer in front of Fionn rose to meet his challenge… literally. Already standing the height of a man, when it stood properly – or as much as it was able to – then it towered over even the tallest human. Lanky, and malformed in a clearly avian manner, it was hard to tell where the light armour ended and its own natural scaling began. Its masked head regarded Fionn with a curious gaze before it gave a loose shrug, cloak of feathers rippling over the stubs of wings.

Yet, still, its arms and whatever weapons it held were hidden beneath the feathery shroud, and the Falconer made no move to engage in melee.

It didn't need to: the spectral bird had launched off its shoulder and already moved for a raking dive at the knight's face, not caring for normal concerns like needing time to build up speed.


Fast as it was, Fionn was expecting the falcon to dive into the fray immediately. He stepped off to his right, leaning deeply into the step, and the spectral falcon sped on past him without making any contact. He stepped forwards, then back to the left with a similar lean—avoiding the return attack as the falcon came back around. He swung upwards as it did, and spectral feathers floated in the air as they were freed from their ghostly owner. The falcon returned to her original place with her falconer, with no damage except to the plumage.

He could have done more. Perhaps he should have; however, while the opportunity to train with Erich and getting to fight with Gerard, Renar, and Florian had been something he greatly enjoyed, it still didn't quite match up to the opportunity to indulge himself with real stakes. Maybe that was part of why he and Tyaethe got along so well—a similar level of insanity, finding such enjoyment in such a dangerous occupation. At least she wasn't making extra difficulty for herself...but cutting the falcon out of the air so soon would make it too simple, too quickly.

He raised his blade from the low guard he'd returned to after the quick upwards slash, relaxedly walking forwards towards the Falconer. "Surely that's not all you've got, aye? Would be sad if it was. Disappointing, like."
Esben Mathiassen




"Esben, isn't this fun?"

She didn't wait or even look back to see the icy stare that was all the reply Esben had to give. Luckily, they solved the issue of the beasts without him really having to take part at all beyond directing Selene and Eos around—only for another test to come their way. Cid's glance went ignored as Adrammelech landed in the center of the clearing, roaring challenge at the Kirins. He jumped back, avoiding a bolt of lightning that blasted into the earth where he'd just been standing. Eos fluttered back near him, though Selene continued to hover around the entire group, flitting back and forth to avoid the electricity crashing around.

"Everybody fall ba—"

Rudolf charged forwards. No chance to even try and come up with a plan before having to account for the others taking matters into their own hands. One of these days they would all have to try and outline it all before the fights began, rather than trusting on each other to just instantly adapt to everything. Galahad followed suit, issuing his own command. All well and good for a dragoon, basic guidance but still correct.

Not exactly what they should all do today.

"Éliane, Chisato, each of you pick a side and harry it," he commanded. "Don't let it rip Rudolf to shreds—interrupt it while he keeps its attention, and help him keep it off of Galahad. Izayoi, help Galahad or Rudolf as the need arises. Miina, we're holding back for now, keep the spell up as long as you can. Eos, stick to Rudolf until I say otherwise—don't let him cook himself."

The green fairy sped off as he backpedaled, sword loose in one hand with his buckler raised between himself and the Eidolon's servant. It wouldn't provide much against any lightning, but should it try to swipe at him with its claws it could easily prove the difference between life and death.

Irritable as it made him, mapping out the forest in his head would have to wait; first he'd have to hope the others would at least be willing to listen to what he said, rather than crashing about like wolf puppies on their first hunt.
Esben Mathiassen




"Oh, what a bother," Esben muttered as the party dove into the fray with the beasts. Not just for the same reason he always wanted to complain when running into them—his focus as a duelist was already plenty obvious to the rest—but for the overall interruption of it. Between running through various options in his head that they'd have once they reached Brightlam and trying to mentally map out just where they'd managed to find themselves, he needed all the concentration he could muster.

Which, in the face of another Eidolon, ravenous beasts, and Cid's reappearance, was not nearly enough. At least the latter would help make some of his planning easier. "Eos, Selene, you can come out." The pair of fairies peeked out from the edges of his cloak, that he still wore despite the humidity and heat just to keep the rest of his clothes from getting torn to shreds in the forest, before flying out around him.

He was almost certain he could hear Eos breathe out a long, slow "Wow..."

As they took in the sight, he fell back towards the rear of the group where he could more easily overlook the course of the battle. "Keep an eye out in case they hit anybody," he ordered Eos, snapping her out of her momentary reverie staring up at Ramuh. "We don't need any casualties, nor do I want to deal with any of them being plagued by the Blight themselves. Selene, speed them up if you would."

"On it!" The purple-glowing fairy sped away in a heartbeat, casting her light over the gathered Kirins just as she had when they fought with Isolde and her knights. Not that Esben imagined any of them really needed the help with Blight beasts...but it should make the tiresome part go by faster.
Fionn MacKerracher




Small disappointment aside—he'd hoped there'd be some trick possible for the Feinyar to actually communicate a bit—Fionn's cheerfulness at the fight to face them was almost entirely undimmed. As Gertrude and Arken set about enchanting the rest of the knights' weapons, he turned back to Fiadh. "Try to keep yourself out of the thick of things, yeah?" he suggested. "I'd rather you not get hurt." Whether or not she would listen, he wouldn't even try to guess; he figured she was equally likely to keep away and avoid risking seeing him get hurt as she was to stick close and be ready to step in on his behalf if anything bad might happen, as with the tree-snake before.

With the majority of his preparation done, he followed along with the rest of the group at a relaxed pace, borrowed blade held loosely in his hand. The feeling that they were being watched grew and grew, unsurprisingly; it seemed the Hunt was curious about the supposed 'prey' that was moving to meet it, rather than already turning tail and fleeing. As the knights took their places in the clearing, however, it was obvious that the anticipation couldn't go on forever.

As Fanilly severed her first attacker's head and hell broke loose in the rest of the clearing, Fionn stepped forward. A lazy backhand swing of the raven-dark sword sent some of the smaller assailants scurrying away from him as the wind whistled over its edge, denying their thought that this apparently least-armoured of the still reachable Iron Roses would make an easy target. He could hear as Renar, Gerard, and Fleuri each found their own targets amid Rozenalt's lieutenants. The rest of the knights, with Arken's help, would be more than enough to deal with the rest of the Hunt—which left him with the one unique figure left over.

The Midnight Hunt had always been a dark mirror of a hunt par force, complete even with methods that would never be accepted by proper society—the Trapper's presence being proof enough of that. The feather-adorned personage before him, then, with their spectral gyrfalcon, had no doubt expected that they would set out to harry the party and soften them up before the others could arrive. If, in this case, he was to carry a raven's blade...

Fionn grinned, placing both hands on his blade and dropping it into a low guard. Open, relaxed, seemingly utterly heedless of the rest of the fighting about to consume the clearing. He would make himself as much a pest for the Falconer as ravens and crows had themselves pests for the sport of falconry for as long as anybody could remember. "Think she's fast enough?" he asked conversationally, nodding up at the ghostly falcon. "Looks starved, like."
Esben Mathiassen




"For now," he replied, resolute in the face of the stare trying to bore two new holes in his head. "I imagine that even if we can find a priest who is unhappy enough with the current state of affairs to get us access to some consecrated ground, we'll still have to find a way to hold it. I expect that even if Zacharias and Alambert both turn to our side, Isolde will still try to disrupt things, or may decide to try and run off faster than the rest of us could catch up, which makes you our insurance."

He shrugged.

"Flexibility will be important, like always. That's why I prefer to paint broad strokes and let the details fill themselves in as we go along—anything more would be a waste of thought and energy."
Esben Mathiassen




Esben suppressed a small smile at the mention of bergamot tea. He'd been expecting slightly more than just the same pass phrase used before, but Izayoi's intervention cleared up the matter enough for the group to proceed. As Galahad began to outline the basics of the plan that had been reached, he turned back to Izayoi, giving a small point over at Chisato. "Is she any good?" he asked quietly. When Izayoi nodded in response, he returned his attention to Galahad, looking down at the map thoughtfully.

"The three of us can manage our own entry easily enough," he agreed with Miina. "But satisfying arrangements to get the others in the city afterwards may still prove difficult. Passing Goug off as part of a trade caravan may be the easiest. There's always some smugglers that intersperse themselves with such groups, and there are tricks to hide gear and people both if need be. Add in some cash to grease palms along the way and that may even go smoothly."

With his gear kept secured, Galahad could likely leap his way into the city without much trouble or too much noise. Izayoi and Rudolf, with a change of clothes and properly applied grime, could pass as workers with a caravan easily enough—Éliane was likely the only one that would need certain special treatment to get inside, whether that be hiding her entirely or an alternate method, if she wanted to be entirely unreasonable about things...something he still doubted, despite their argument.

"We'll be able to adjust this once we come closer and know exactly what we're dealing with. Once we're inside, everybody's going to be on information duty. I want eyes on each of the Grovemasters; I'll trail Zacharias. Miina, you're on Alambert. Chisato, I want you to follow Isolde. Rudolf can give you a good sketch of what she looks like. No assassinations until I give the go ahead, both of you." That sufficed for the jobs of the three who were the stealthiest of the group. He looked up, pointing at another trio in turn.

"Galahad, Izayoi, and Rudolf, I need the three of you to find us a base, and after that, see what you can do to find out what talk is happening within the church. Posing as beggars is an easy enough way to get at that, I can give you each some tips later on if you need. If you can find a discontented priest that might be convinced to get us access to some consecrated ground, all the better. Now, Éliane—"

He turned to face the most outwardly discontent member of the group. "In case things fall apart and we do have to fall back on removing them all, I need you to try to find somebody in town. Darri Anquetil, tall, Faye, dark haired, he was in your class if you remember him at all. The last I knew he was assigned to run a storefront here. I'd originally planned to hunt him down myself and have him funnel my report back home, but I need whatever information he has on who all the major players in local politics are, who can be pulled in to replace a Grovemaster or three if needed, anything useful to this. If you find him—"

Esben paused, his brow furrowing for a moment.

"Or if he finds you, ask him...ask him if he knows anywhere to find good rabbit in the city. He'll know it's me asking for help if you say that. Can you do that for us?"
Esben Mathiassen




"Be nice," Esben murmured in Éliane's direction. "At least Iðar likes me."
Esben Mathiassen




Esben resisted the urge to give a very pointed look at Éliane after Madis interrupted them to let them know they'd been followed. Following along behind the older man came, perhaps, the shortest Viera he'd ever seen. He was nearly surprised that her limbs weren't bowed and misshapen, given the combination of her overall size and the fact that she clearly wasn't physically a child. Something her voice made clear moments after as she began to speak.

"Hmm."

He held up one hand, cautioning Ciradyl from reaching out to grab the offered scroll. Certainly, it was sealed...but seals could be faked. Names such as those she was dropping were easy enough to come by. That was a tactic that worked fine when dealing with nobility at their own little private gatherings, ingratiating yourself as you dig your way in to their leisure and rob them blind of every secret they would prefer to keep—not so much when trying to buy your way into something actually business focused. It invited immediate suspicion more than it invited trust.

Perhaps she was entirely guileless. Perhaps she wanted to appear as such, hoping that the Kirins would outsmart themselves knowing that such a simplistic tactic would be insane to use against them.

Perhaps the tactic was in tandem with another painfully-obvious phrase that Osprey's limited resistance had already used to buy into their trust.

"Storage, you say?" His tone was conversational, free of the tension that he could feel growing just behind his eyes in the face of whatever was happening here. "Did Hien or one of the others send you with something more for us?"
Fionn MacKerracher




Perhaps one of the things that most ingratiated Fionn to the various fey he had met in his days was the way he had maintained his sense of wonder at the world around him, despite long since having grown out of the childhood where it was expected. Even when the fey themselves were something he was comfortable and familiar with, wherever his natural curiosity and delight at his experiences came out, it—at the very least—seemed to entertain them. The wide-eyed gaze that he faced the hulking crow-man with as a blade materialized out of the air was simply an obvious, outward expression of such.

He reverently took the offered hilt, stepping back and twirling the raven-black blade in a short moulinet just to feel the weight of it. How the balance felt, compared to what he was used to, how he may have to adjust on the fly; already, he was accounting for the comparitive lack of a guard, the sword barely having a bolster to help keep his hand from sliding up to the edge on a thrust. The pommel was little more than a faint, knob-like swell at the end of the grip, not the large, weighty ring that ensured he'd never not feel the alignment of his edge, that had long since shown its worth in breaking bones and shattering teeth of those who thought they could get inside his guard...

With a grin, he unclasped his sword and sheathe from his belt, holding it back out towards Súileabhán. "I understand your misgivings, but I'll make sure this isn't wasted. In return, I'd like it if you'd watch over my blade until I can return this to you." He glanced over at the Moonlit Queen just off to the side. "Not indefinitely, mind. I am rather attached to that sword, like how Súileabhán doesn't like lending this to me. Call it collateral, if you like, but I am entrusting it to your safe keeping."

Only as a temporary loaner or not, getting to use such a fine blade was still a princely gift. It was only fitting to return some trust to them.

Without another moment to spare, his hair resumed its natural hue, the cohort standing once more in the altogether more normal forest that they were used to. He didn't have long to consider much of a plan, though, before a diminutive head with flaming yellow eyes claimed his full field of vision. And his face grew hot. Almost uncomfortably so, even, like his pale skin was about to start burning...

"Cad é mar atá tú?" he asked, resisting the urge to pull away to avoid any excess heat. He didn't want to appear impolite, after all, certainly not to Feinyar hovering just before his nose. "Cad is ainm duit? Is mise Fionn."
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