The Otter

Blades of Iron Roses: An Anime-Inspired Knight RP

Fionn MacKerracher

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@Crimson Paladin @Psyker Landshark @HereComesTheSnow @Raineh Daze

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Beating their way deeper into the Talderian lines had proven both a quicker and slower prospect than he'd imagined; quicker in that the strain was showing on each individual warrior among their midst far faster than he'd have expected, though their skill at fighting in formation was proved far more of a counter to the knights' individual prowess than he'd hoped for. Thus, slower. Overall the groups found themselves fairly evenly matched, though it was no secret which would tire first.

Renar led the way as they naturally formed into a small wedge, driving the push into the Talderians; Fionn hadn't let up on the momentum once since his first swing, falling into a rapid rhythm of alternating mandritto and roverso fendenti hammering downward into the uplifted shields and blades of the foes before him as they slowly pushed in, careful not to let his footwork carry him away from the other three. Gerard was there to watch their backs and keep any opportunistic fighters from penetrating and breaking the wedge, and the only protection he had on his other flank was Renar's own furious assault.

The Talderians took blows, tried to riposte, took more—fell back, and more came and took their place instantaneously, flowing back in like water.

Or pushing forward like sharks' teeth renewing, depending on how aggressively they came in.

Gertrude's fire continued raining down; he continued to attack, taking advantage of each opportunity to force another legionnaire to be pulled back, another to replace them at the front. If it had to be attrition for the moment, then so be it. He had more tricks up his sleeve.

"I've got the rear, lads!" he growled in response to Renar's urging them to reposition. Gerard pushed off of him as he turned to more squarely face the wide arc of soldiers left behind; he let his last cut carry his blade down below the midline of the assault, the tip coming low left, whirling back up in an arc—thrust forward rapidly at the first Talderian to advance, who retreated again instantly. The blade fell back, tracing the reverse of its prior path under Fionn's guiding hands, and he covered their retreat with a series of rising steps nearly the exact inverse of his prior assault. Roverso sottano with the false edge, mandritto sottano with the true; the blade became a shield wall all its own, both warding the enemy's blades with its speed and heft and presenting enough of a threat from the same that they didn't dare come too close.

Gertrude flew high above them, raining a hailstorm of magical blasts down upon the Talderian host. Fionn's blade rose again from his lower left; this time he didn't turn it fully for the pattern, instead only coming down partway before redirecing into a rapid mezzano from the right to fend off a legionnaire who'd escaped the initial starry assault and send him back to his allies. His blade redirected again, up into a high guard, posta di finestra sinestra. Point forward, but not thrusting again; Renar lunged forwards, swiping low horizontal at their legs, Fleuri just beside him.

Fionn lunged forward as well, capitalizing on the sudden threat of his allies to advance. Gerard was barely a step behind joining the attack, and Fionn wouldn't be left lacking by the other three. He advanced as well, one step, two, turning his blade to be ready for a fierce downward blow and regathering his breath and energy as he did so—and he delivered a forceful lunging stomp into the ground, with an accompanying bark of "Krini!" His training with Erich had helped him to capitalize on the knowledge that Fiadh had imparted to him so abruptly, even that of her own, nature-focused fae magic, such that he could direct it more effectively. With more intention.

And just as he'd intended, mana poured out from his foot, setting the ground to shake and destabilize immediately beneath the feet of the same front row of Talderians that Renar and Fleuri were aiming to topple and dispatch.

Glossary of Terms

• Mandritto—Initiated from the attacker's outside line, aimed at the defender's inside line. From right to left for the majority of attackers.
• Roverso—The reverse of mandritto. From the attacker's inside line to the defender's outside line; left to right from the attacker's perspective, normally. Southpaws begone.
• Fendente—A sharply angled (as in the text above) or vertical descending cut. Can be done with either the true or false edge.
• Sottano—A sharply angled (as in the text above) or vertical rising cut. Can be done with either the true or false edge.
• Mezzano—An attack between a fendente and a sottano. Can either be diagonal with a shallower angle, or completely horizontal. Here, horizontal.
• Posta di Finestra Sinestra—The left window guard. Point forward, hands held high, cross protecting the head. Here held more forward and up, more akin to a left ochs from the German school than the traditional Italian stance of posta di finestra.

And for Snow:

• Vom Tag—"From the Roof;" an offensive high guard in German school longsword fencing. The point is high, with the blade either on the shoulder, or held higher with the crossguard and forte protecting the head, or even held almost directly vertically over the head in preparation for, most commonly, an Oberhau or Zornhau.
• Oberhau—An overhand, descending strike. Essentially the same thing as a fendente.
• Unterhau—The reverse of the above. An underhand, ascending strike. AKA sottano. Either an Oberhau or Unterhau can be with the true or false edge.
• Mittelhau—A very shallowly angled or horizontal strike from either right or left. Roughly equivalent to a mezzano, though the Italian mezzano encompasses a wider range of angle to the strike than does the German Mittelhau.
• Zornhau—Wrath Strike/Wrath Hew/Wrath Cut. The first of the Meisterhauen, or master strikes, of German longsword fencing. Still an Oberhau, but not quite as steeply angled—the attacker steps offline, bringing their blade down at a nearly forty-five degree angle, usually aimed towards their opponent's arms when done offensively. Can also be aimed for the opponent's blade, either offensively to force it off the center line, or done defensively as the response to an attack, beating aside an opponent's Oberhau to enter the bind and deliver a thrust in response—the Zornhau-Ort. Very brief overview, ask me if you want more options of how it can be used, I can talk for at least fifteen minutes on just how to do a good Zornhau.
• Wechsel—Another guard; right foot forward, with the blade held low with the point out to the left, hands close in to the body with the false edge facing the opponent. Can be mirrored on the left. Usually the ending point of a Zornhau. Can be thought of as a wider variation of Alber.
• Alber—the "Fool's Guard." The blade is held low, with the false edge facing up towards the opponent, the point is forward rather than off to the side like Wechsel. This is the ending point for a full length Oberhau from either right or left; a full right Oberhau ends in left Alber and the mirror follows.

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Esben Mathiassen

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"The hopeful part of you is thinking at the wrong scale," Esben replied. The rest of Rudolf's thoughts could wait for the time being, but given how many of the group did seem intent on rescuing Lord Hien, the time to focus on strategy and tactics was fully upon them. Better to focus on keeping them all from getting killed in the moment rather than cleaving only to the long-term view. "Distractions are a tool for larger units and full armies. Not one as small as ours."

He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a small sip of his tea as he tried to visualize the troop movements that Ciradyl had told them. At least the knowledge that Hien had been active within the resistance alleviated some of his worries about what to do with the young man, assuming that his allies could keep him from getting recaptured. Lessened patrols would make moving around the city easier in the immediate time frame, though either success or failure would be enough of a shock to make them bring the patrols back to their original strength, if not increase them.

He still wasn't entirely sure that freeing Hien would be better than martyring him or smuggling him into Edreni hands as a bargaining chip, but if Ciradyl's network could handle him then, Esben supposed, his freedom could prove as usefully inflammatory as his death might.

"A rebellion known to be active, within the capital city of a recently captured nation, with a primary target and a band of militants surrounding her already known to be on approach to the city? He'll be under the heaviest guard of any save whoever they've appointed to govern this territory, and any sign of unrest the night before his execution will only serve to make them tighten their net further. We'd be signing his death warrant ourselves with tactics like that."

By the time he'd finished, his flat stare had fallen on Rudolf. These were men they dealt with, not beasts...and tactics like that didn't work on beasts, either. The closest would be trapping or corralling them.

He turned back to Ciradyl after a moment. "How many do you have on the inside, how many of yours in general are comfortable possibly showing their faces in connection to this, and how much do you believe in their loyalty?"

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Esben Mathiassen

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@VitaVitaAR

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One hand came up quickly, grabbing at the tail of Robin's jacket as she stood and declared her commitment in an attempt to try and stem the bit of nervous trembling in her fingers. With a firm grasp, Esben lightly tugged on the hem of the jacket. "No declarations without plans," he chided as he urged her to sit back down, before adding, much more quietly: "Learn to sit with your discomfort. Don't let it push you into making pledges you can't always keep. That's just a different sort of cowardice."

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Esben Mathiassen

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@Psyker Landshark @HereComesTheSnow @Ithradine @vietmyke

Esben looked up from the short pair he had been speaking with as Izayoi sprang up, barely giving the rest a chance to process the news before requesting to go and rescue the young lord from the noose. A lord she couldn't have seen since the last war's end, from what he'd been taught about the war between Edren and Osprey. Until he'd seen her alive himself he'd only paid minor attention to the tales working their way through the populace that she'd returned—he'd have thought it more likely that someone had chosen to take up her tactics and name as a rebellious ploy, rather than fact.

A lord who was barely more than a child when the last war had ended.

"What do you honestly expect to do with him if you're successful?"

Where Rudolf had quickly pledged his aid, rattling off his own tactical appraisal of the immediate scenario—one that was, as expected, just as far beyond the average sword-swinging monster hunter as had been his insightful thoughts on occupation and sieges in the days before—Esben couldn't agree to the same so rapidly. Izayoi herself had already made mention that the wider mission bore the greater importance, and hadn't offered up any way in which such a rescue would aid their mission.

And it was Rudolf that pointed out one part of what it could cost them. More than they could really afford—while the group wasn't without skill, Izayoi was an asset they couldn't lose, both for her own skill and the fact that she was the one Ospreyan among them. "We still don't know the full situation here. How far our host's influence reaches, the overall state of any movements within the populace to subvert Valheimer control...do you plan to turn him loose? An ildsjel is a valuable resource, but one that needs to be handled carefully, and needs the network in place that they'll act within."

Without the network in place that made them useful, such a person would better serve as a martyr than a figurehead. And he had his doubts that the young man, little more than a boy, would prove the most effective figurehead at that; some level of leadership and skill were still necessary, and if he remembered his details right, Hien was young enough to be barely more than a child. Much of their number was the same, but the present company was exceptional for all that some of their number had accomplished despite their age, and counting on encountering more such was optimistic to the point of being foolhardy.

"Ciradyl." His head turned sharply following his eyes, landing on their host where she sat. No self-identification given; if asked he'd give his name, but his own interjection had already ruined the opportunity to give himself a proper introduction. "You and yours are the only ones here that can answer some of those questions, and more besides. What are the patrols through the city normally like, and how dense? How firm of a grip do they maintain and have they been tightening down on the citizens or loosening up? What percentage of the garrison has already left the city?" His eyes glanced back at Izayoi for a moment, as intent to gauge her reaction to his words as he was to note that of the rest, before his head turned again, this time to Galahad.

"Barring, perhaps, those of us who arrived so much later than the initial part of this team—none of us are as expendable, nor expendable in the same way when we are, as the common soldiery. We need more information, and some semblance of a plan, before we can consider risking our limited resources on this."

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Esben Mathiassen

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@Izurich @VitaVitaAR

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Not an entire second after her sigh, Robin felt a quick poke to the ribs as Esben settled into the spot between her and Eve. "Head up, shoulders back," he commanded just as quickly, just quietly enough not to draw attention away from Rudolf and Galahad as they took over the conversation from Ciradyl and Izayoi's sudden embrace. "That mopey look might've served you well sneaking through the streets, but let's not forget that a third of being a hero is in appearances, ja?" The theatre cover seemed more apt than the shinobi or their host might even have realized, given the personalities of all those included in it; hopefully they all at least knew their parts well enough to fit into the wider ensemble.

Or could learn them quickly enough.

At least the others could take heart that Esben was back to his usual self once they were within the safehouse; his usual easygoing demeanour had been entirely absent as they approached Kugane, his focus almost entirely on his observations of the occupying force, their activities, and the effects of their presence. As much as he may have jested with Eve about it when Chisaki first dropped in front of them, he couldn't keep his mind off work this close to the enemy.

"Maybe you and Eve can take a page from each other's book," he suggested, leaning back and gesturing over at the half-dragon mage. "Prudence and subtlety are just as virtuous as forthrightness and chivalry, after all."

Blades of Iron Roses: An Anime-Inspired Knight RP

Fionn MacKerracher

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@Crimson Paladin @Psyker Landshark @HereComesTheSnow

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"Don't get too comfortable with that, now," Fionn muttered just after Renar finished speaking. He'd been about to suggest a plan of attack himself, but between the interruption and Renar's peremptory tone, whatever it was had quickly left his mind. At least Renar knew what each of them were best at in this sort of scenario. "Shame we don't get double pay for this."

Not that they were actually risking their lives this time.

Renar and Gerard sprinted forwards, driving into the Talderian knights like a nail in a board. Fionn fell in next to Fleuri, mumbling some half-recognizable words as he ran his hand along the blade of his sword. "Nu, wird grōz," he finished, mana flowing as unmistakably into the sword as it came flying in the form of fire out of Gertrude's broom. Green light eneveloped the weapon, the longsword remaining at its core as it shaped itself into a great two-handed blade of a size with Fleuri's own. Fionn felt his own grasp pushed slightly wider to accomodate the larger hilt of the weapon, his free hand grasping near the ephemeral pommel to control the suddenly increased weight.

'A useful trick,' Erich had basically described it as. Forming a greatsword out of the ether in case a normal blade wouldn't be enough, the energies making it up anchored to the actual sword. Less to focus on to try and maintain it; good enough for Fionn, as trying to consider just how a blade made of little more than light and energy could have such real-feeling weight and cutting ability was beyond his understanding of magical theory. "Change of plans," he grunted to the taller knight off to his left, rushing forwards with his blade held low and back. "Split around Renar. Wedge formation, Gerard will keep them from breaking our center!"

As Gerard moved to either stab or tackle the knight that had slipped around behind Renar, Fionn came off to the other side; a swift rising cut colliding with the blade of another Talderian and sending it wide off its target in a cutting parry. Unwilling to sacrifice any energy whatsoever, Fionn let the momentum carry the tip of his blade up and round, loosely guiding it with his hands around into a crushing overhand blow aimed just above the Talderian's left ear within the blink of an eye.

Helmet or no, that much force being transferred would still leave the one suffering it crippled or killed—and with no edge to worry about damaging but all the weight and strength behind the strike as though it was a true greatsword, Fionn had no qualms about aiming at the hard targets.

Fate/Illuminate Histoire

Arthur Howell

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@Octo

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I stare at the woman for longer than I probably should, trying to piece together everything she keeps talking about. From 'Holy Grail War' to talking about classes like this was some role playing game. I'm still not sure I haven't found myself caught up in some elaborate LARP, for the record. It was at least less worrying to imagine that was the case than to stick with the assumption that this girl before me was completely insane. But, on the bright side, she was at least willing to find something different to wear.

"Hold on."

Something else in bothering me much more. I get up, walking over to her side of the short table and kneeling down. "Don't stab your food. Look, hold them like this—" I take her hand in mine, arranging the chopsticks between her fingers the right way. "You saw the way I was doing it, right? You're supposed to grab things with the chopsticks, not skewer them."

Rather than remain too close, I back away as soon as I'm sure she's holding the chopsticks right, returning to my spot. Getting her more normal clothing would at least help keep her from standing out too much until I could figure out how beast to deal with her, sure...although who knows what she'll try and do once we're out and about.

But she keeps calling me her master. And she took direction earlier. Maybe that'll be the ticket to keep her from causing trouble outside?

"So. Kimonos, you were saying? Not a bad idea, but they aren't the most practical clothes in the world. We probably ought to find you some more typical wear, too, especially if you're going to be staying undercover. Unless you do want to borrow some of my spares." I look her up and down more appraisingly than I did before. I already know we're basically the same height, and she's not much thinner than me either.

"Fit should work. You're not too far off from me, shouldn't even be too tight in the..."

My metaphorical train of thought runs off track as one half of my brain catches up to the other. I look back down at the food quickly, not bothering to finish that thought.

"Anyways. Tonight?"

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Esben Mathiassen

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@Ithradine@Click This

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Éliane’s own intrusion was unexpected, but not unwelcome—especially as it seemed to get the shinobi to relax somewhat herself. Pushing aside the slight disappointment at not getting to play much longer, he shifted aside a small amount to actually let Éliane into the conversation. "Well, making me the impolite one?" he chided playfully after their introductions were done. "And here I was hoping to introduce myself over a drink, instead. Esben Mathiassen—it's a pleasure, miss Chisaki."

With Éliane’s joining the fray, he felt he could safely let her deal with the shinobi—no doubt Chisaki's easiest target was the one with the least to really offer her, after all, and Éliane could keep her well away if need be—but there was precious little else to occupy his time, and likely no better source of information than to stick beside the shinobi himself.

"You say you have some things that will pique my interest, ja? Perhaps we should invite miss Laruelle along, especially if there's any good coffee to be found."

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Esben Mathiassen

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@Ithradine@VitaVitaAR@HereComesTheSnow@Raineh Daze

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Esben nodded once in response to the Viera calling him clever, maintaining his silence for the rest of the short trip to the inn. While he never focused much on her, he made sure that the shinobi never left his sight either; however Éliane had been recruited into the Garden's service away from her normal position, that still didn't mean she was the most familiar with their particular method of conduct, including what to watch out for in others. He knew all the plans and tactics by heart, and knew that the shinobi would know much the same.

He knew her eyes were remaining on him as much as his were on her, as well.

Ah, I haven't had this much fun since I left home. Or is this forelsket?

He quickly stepped aside from the others to put down his pack and check on his things; even without his eyes directly on any of the rest of the group, he could recognize the Viera's soft tread as she walked near the group, and shortly afterwards heard Robin's crisp footfalls as she made her way over to introduce herself. He glanced back up, making note of where the others were.

Rudolf, watching the introduction with what Esben could only imagine was growing dread.

Izayoi, further away securing their rooms; most of the others doing much as he was currently with their own belongings. A short flash of red hair bobbing in and out of his peripheral vision made it clear where Miina was off to his left. Good, all accounted for.

The shinobi's voice dropped to a nearly-inaudible hiss before she stepped away from Robin with her eyes drawn elsewhere, Rudolf's urgent steps filling in the gap. He looked back down at his pack, listening more closely—one step, two, three...

Esben stepped backwards, arching his back to stretch, and collided directly with the Viera as she made to continue along. His rear foot tangled between her own set them both nearly stumbling to the floor before he quickly caught a chair with one hand, the other steadying the shinobi with a light hold on her arm.

"Ah, sorry about that!" he apologised, a mildly sheepish smile on his face. As obvious as a trick as it would rapidly prove to the shinobi, and even some of his companions, any normal visitor to the inn would see nothing more than a sudden small accident.

And of course, only the shinobi was close enough to see how the smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

I know your game. Don't think I'll let you play with my companions that easily.

He released his light grasp on her arm, offering his own to her instead. Ever the gentleman, and not bothering to hide it, unlike some others in the present company. "I was hoping to get your attention after I finished checking my things, though, so this works nicely! Care to show me some of the local delicacies?"

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Esben Mathiassen

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Before Éliane could reply, the others followed suit with their own introductions. Esben's gaze shifted slightly, following each in turn. Rudolf's came as a matter of course after Esben had already partially introduced him; nothing particularly new was said on that front, barring the sudden recognition of Duke Caradoc's son. He raised an eyebrow at the way Rudolf addressed the man, but didn't say anything about it. Miina Malina the Mumbling Mystrel came next, though whether it was entirely from nervousness around the group, nervousness around the one to accost them in particular, or the features of that one which drew her eyes, he wasn't willing to guess yet.

Best to keep that brother in mind, though.

The other small girl introduced herself, revealing that she wasn't entirely human in the process, and with a grudge against Valheim to match the oddity of her looks. Then, the boyish girl in her military jacket declared herself with a husky voice and magical sparkles in the air. No doubt now that she had a penchant for theatrics—far be it from Esben to interfere if she wanted to play the part of the daring, duplicitous lady-at-arms, so long as it didn't risk otherwise-easily-avoidable problems.

Galahad and Izayoi he knew by reputation; Arton he'd been waiting for after hearing the man nearly choke after his own introduction, though he seemed to have recovered fairly quickly—only to immediately leave as soon as he had the chance. His eyes followed the man's retreating form, a curious wonder starting to rise to the front of his mind—

—His eyes shifted away again, however, at the barest twitch of fingers in his peripheral vision. Back to Miina.

_{"P-pretty..."}

He smirked, following where the mumbling Mystrel's gaze had landed next. It was nearly entertaining enough for him to miss Éliane's response; while he had as much clue as to what she'd come out for as she had of him, he hadn't expected her to come alone. That the confirmation came with such obvious bad news neither surprising nor entirely welcome.

"Well. I trust you've already written home for them."

Given the manner of his and Rudolf's arrival to the group, he didn't feel it necessary whatsoever to answer the question about chocobos.

---

The travel passed uneventfully after their introductions; Esben kept to himself for most of it, keen more to watch and learn the others as he was to teach them about himself for the moment. Everything important he had to share had already been covered, anyways; best to let those with louder personalities carve out their places in the new group while he determined where his could fit, and otherwise, travel in relaxed contentment. As best as he could before they came across the farmlands surrounding the nearby village, at least.

While the peasantry had never enjoyed the greatest of lives before, they at least still maintained some level of respect and due in most places; under Valheim's occupation, however, these farmers they passed appeared to have been reduced to nearly a caricature of serfdom. In the face of that and the rapidly-approaching feeling that he was being watched, he almost expected to be accosted more for coin than for anything else; one hand rested near a dagger, as they came up to the loftily-seated Viera, though with a practice nonchalantness he kept his eyes scanning their surroundings, never lingering long enough to make it obvious he knew where she was.

Not that the caution seemed entirely necessary, as she shortly dropped to speak with them. He found Eve next to him within moments, requesting his own input on the situation...at which he gave a small smirk.

"You just want to see me at work that badly, do you?"

Could it be done? Undoubtedly, it could, though whether or not by him it was too early to say. The smirk dropped, a small shrug making up where his expression went blank.

"My knowledge on their occupation of Kugane could easily be out of date. It would depend on their patrols, what the gaps in them were, where we could quickly find to hide. Things would need scouted out ahead of time, and given that the good captain just retreated there less than a week ago—and that there are already reports of at least a few of us circulating the area—I doubt we have time to spend leaving the group waiting outside the city while those of us with the capability play thieves in the night. People are hard to move as quickly as necessary."

Thus it always went—weapons were easier to smuggle than bodies. Resistances were easier to build out of those inside the walls; arm them and you could nearly point them in all directions. They could stand to be larger, assuming they were quiet enough in the early stages. Scouts and assassins rarely traveled in such large groups as theirs, as the difficulty for their job only increased exponentially with each extra body added to the plan, and distractions and diversions could easily cause more harm than good.

He looked back to the Viera with a heavy-lidded stare. It was entirely too public for this sort of thing, he felt, even with the village reduced to a disadvantaged backwater. But at least she spoke well, and Izayoi's reaction was enough of a reply to cement his own thoughts on the matter.

"Her code's too obvious to be a complete fabrication. You said it yourself—she ought have had better to base it on if it was entirely a deception. Humor her for now—bury her if anything stops making sense. We can afford to waste time with her less than we can afford that spent to find our own ingress."