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Esben Mathiassen




Nearly the second he called out to Izayoi, the surprised Valheimr troops fully recognized his presence and rounded on him. He could see Rudolf off on the other side of their captain hewing his own way through their forces, and content enough with that, let himself fall into the familiar rhythms of fighting. A sword swung his way was slapped aside with his buckler, and as the rest of his body followed the small shield's movement, the soldier that attacked him fell to the ground with intestines slipping out the new opening in his torso.

A second aimed, fired at him—the shot flew past his ear. He rushed the fusilier, stabbing him through the heart as he reloaded. The unmistakable thumping sound of a boot meeting flesh hit his ears a moment before that of flesh meeting hard ground, and he turned as some small boy—

No, no, not with that voice.

—some small woman issued forth her personal challenge to the enemy soldiers, distracting some that were moments away from trying to swarm him. He glanced back at their captain, eyes narrowing at the crystal she held. "Not happening!" he muttered, dropping his sword and quickly pulling out a dagger—and, in a single smooth, well-practiced motion, sending it spinning end-over-end underhand straight for the crystal. The moment before it would have knocked it clean from her hand, she disappeared instead, the knife sinking instead into the intestines of a soldier further behind her.

He frowned as the man dropped with a groan, his usually serene expression breaking at last into one of displeasure. "Well. Dra til helvete," he muttered, kicking his sword back up into his hand as the short skirmish rapidly turned into a rout.




Later that evening, as they all gathered around a communal fire, he expectedly found himself and his companion the partial subjects of a fresh interrogation. Having long since returned to his peacefully neutral expression, he let a small, relaxed smile come through. "This is Rudolf," he said, pointing off to his side at the seated swordsman. "He's a monster hunter, came up here to fight the Blight and do a little rebelling against Valheim while he's at it." His hand came back, placed on his own chest as he gave a small bow of his head.

"And I'm Esben Mathiassen, graduate of the Garden, here to gather intelligence for the Skaeller government. We figured we'd hold out in that village for a day or two to rest before I planned to continue on to Kugane. Rudi even found the cellar that we were able to hide in when those Valheimr grunts searched the house we were in!" He clapped the shorter man on the back soundly, his tone as congratulatory as it could be under the sing-song accent. "After we heard the rest of you fighting them, I thought about escaping, but I recognized your name and another voice in the group, so I decided we should help instead."

Content enough with his introduction, he turned his face from Izayoi, his eyes falling on Éliane instead, the small smile still on his face. "Commander Laruelle, ja?"
Cazt Gardens


"Perhaps they did not know the exact limits of their gift. Or perhaps this is simply more amusing to them," Erich ventured--obviously, whilst he might be able to discern the origins of this particular magic... it was hardly like he knew Fiadh, although the overall logic of the fey was quite consistent.

The trek took them out of the gardens and back up to the very same building that Fionn had previously visited... and he seemed overall less concerned about the courtyard here being damaged or magicked in some way. The same butler had been sent away to gather wood, flowers--anything that seemed marginally relevant to Fionn's experimentation.


Fionn MacKerracher


@Raineh Daze



Over their walk back, Fionn fell silent, striving to remember each instance he'd witnessed of Fiadh's magic being used. Given that he hadn't been given any direct instruction from her before Merilia decided to steal him away, and given that Fiadh's own contribution seemed to have overwritten any memory he had of what little else he'd learned, this seemed as good a method as any to try and piece through what new knowledge he did have. From there he would at least know where his new skill floor was and plan out how to work from it.

Better that than waste the time he might be able to work with Erich on simple discovery of his new collection of spells.

What Lilia had managed to show him so far, and what he'd seen from Tyaethe and Amy, seemed to lie in a more esoteric direction; summoning forth a sourceless light, creating a barrier to render a blade nonlethal for a time, generating illusions, things of that nature—even including Tyaethe's own manipulation of her body to take on the appearance of what she would've become as a full-grown woman. While he doubted that such effects and others were outside of the realm of fey capabilities—he was sure he'd seen some make illusions to rival Amy's own at the least—what he had most directly witnessed tended more towards the real, direct, and elemental.

Something that many other mages had access to, as Lilia herself had shown multiple times, but coming from a nature spirit like Fiadh it seemed somehow more primal.

"Aodh, aodh...how did she say it? Aidu. So...no, that won't work..." Just finding random words and saying them wouldn't work, after all; a spell was inherently a command, pulling from one's own energy and issued forth into the world to generate an effect. Or something of that nature...he'd barely had time to skim the book of magical theory he'd found in the library. At the same time, hoping for random bursts of inspiration as memories hit him to pass on into a spell was far from a workable solution, especially in battle.

"Daw...dau...no, that's not it either." He'd figured that as soon as all the materials were gathered Erich would have some sort of a method to follow, but as they waited for his manservant to assemble everything—and as Erich likely worked out what his own plan was going to be—Fionn had contented himself with his own quiet experimentation. Sword set aside, an unlit torch in hand. "How did she light it?"

Of course, the more one struggled to remember something, it often was the more it tried to slip away, though Fionn wasn't inclined to give up in frustration. "Indaw...no. Indetou!" He felt a small jolt as the energy flowed through his hand into the torch he held, before the pitch-soaked burlap wrapped around the head suddenly came alight. And with what still felt like less effort than what he'd done earlier out in the garden, despite the amount of thinking he'd had to do to find his way to this end result.

One simple spell down.

He twisted, lit torch still in hand, turning his head back to where Erich was standing. "Not waiting on me, I hope?"
Esben Mathiassen


@HereComesTheSnow@Psyker Landshark



The hovel wasn't terrible, as far as hovels went. The walls were still standing, though a little scorched. The roof had even managed to avoid caving in. The door was missing, and alongside the way the timbers and covers making the walls of the house were shrunk and punctured beneath their lattices, meant that it was left somewhat open to the elements—but that also meant that it was much harder to be taken surprise of while residing in it. A factor that had proven quite influential in choosing it as a temporary residence rather than any of the other ruined buildings in the village; keeping the rain off his head, sturdy enough not to worry about it falling on him, and still open enough that he could keep his ears open made it leagues better than any other choice.

Of course, it helped that it was large enough to fit two.

"Kom, kom," he urged, peering through the latticed wall at the retreating backs of the troops as they hurried away from the ruined home. Behind him, he could hear his current travelling partner hoisting himself back up to the ground floor. Lucky for them, the house had a surprise trap-door cellar; neither had expected, after stopping over in the village, that a division of Valheimr troops would decide to occupy and search it. But with the cellar and some clever rearranging of the mess over its entrance, they'd been able to hide while the hovel was searched. A search that had just ended moments before the taller of the pair, crouched near the open exit, sprung up as quietly as possible to observe the goings-on—and, if necessary, plan an escape.

Shameful, Esben. I haven't even gotten around to warning him that I may need him to die for me. He's likely to view it as a betrayal if I have to use him as bait.

And yet—

Clashing blades. Voices raised, some in anger, some in surprise. Issuing commands. The unmistakable crack of gunfire. His eyes narrowed. "We may be able to get out of this—"

His eyes widened again as two voices made themselves clearly heard over the din, at the name one of them called out, their voice unmistakably mocking even with the sound of combat. "Ranbu no Izayoi, here? Not alone. This could be..." He turned, catching sight of a flash of red moving in off to one side, before disappearing from his view, well past the occupying soldiers. Off to another side, a small bundle of black and grey rushing in, one hand stretching out already.

"Follow close and watch my back, Rudolf!" he commanded. "This is an opportunity we can't pass up." Hopefully the younger wanderer wouldn't question his specific word choice. He seemed too potentially-useful to let him go thinking he could run off at any minute.

As the small black-and-grey clothed mage let loose with a powerful elemental blast, the tall man dove out from his cover—narrowly avoiding stray fire and debris that came flying towards the hovel he had just vacated from the blast and the dying men—rolling over his shoulder and coming up on his feet in a single smooth movement, his sword and his buckler already off his belt and in his hands. He rushed ahead to the rear of the Valheimr line, to a pair of gunners that had narrowly avoided a cleaving razor of wind sent their way. The first fell to a sharp blow to the back of his skull, cranium cracking and brain hemorrhaging as they met the rim of his buckler. The second twisted on one heel, raising his carbine to attack, only to open his own throat against the blade held out just for him to lacerate himself with.

The carbine was kicked up and out of his suddenly clammy hands, and Esben stepped along, the blood spraying past him against the wall of another ruined home. He clamped his left arm down against the blade of his sword to keep it held up, catching the carbine as it tried to fall back to the ground; holding it out with one hand he turned, another nearby gunner falling limply as a fired bullet tore his brainstem asunder. The carbine flew back, Esben releasing it to its own recoil, and taking his blade in hand again.

"Have your duel, samurai!" he called to Izayoi, with a small salute. "I'll keep these others off your back!"
Fionn MacKerracher


@Raineh Daze



Fionn nodded as Erich suggested leaving to practice somewhere else. "Likely for the best, aye, but..." He frowned, looking back down at the ground around them. The damage hadn't spread far beyond either of them, but damage had been done; the earth they stood on, previously level and clean, was now an uneven mess that looked like a cross between poor tilling and a pack of moles run amok. It was unsightly, to say the least.

Moreover, it was something he couldn't well leave for Erich to fix himself later on. If he'd made it that way, surely he'd be able to fix it. He just had to try and remember how he'd seen it done.

"Fiadh, Fiadh, you really should have explained some of this to me when we were riding," he muttered, shaking his head. Having whatever knowledge of spellcasting she'd decided to give him was a benefit compared to the amount of studying and practice he'd have to do if he was learning it the normal way, certainly, but it left him in the uniquely difficult position of not actually knowing what he knew. The knowledge was there with only a hazy path to it through the memories of what he'd seen and heard her doing in the past.

He focused again, this time purposefully at the ground beneath his feet. The Niyar's words started to run through his mind again, singing lightly to herself as she danced around the minor devastation she could cause, putting it all back to order. He wouldn't do that, but he could at least fix the soil beneath him and hide the plant roots back under it where they were supposed to be.

"Es glanos."

Without the accompanying violent shaking, it felt like recognizably less of a drain as his energy flowed out, the ground shifting and leveling itself out once again. Within a few moments things were mostly right as rain—it still wasn't perfectly even like it had been, but it had all been restored to a more-or-less natural state. He nodded, satisfied with himself. "Right. I'll follow where you lead, then!"
Lancer


@Fish of Oblivion



After slipping away from Beatrice, Lancer had quickly found himself a secluded place in which to hide and watch for any others approaching the church. Inasmuch as he could watch in his intangible form; useful as it was, it was still much more limiting than having his actual physical senses to rely on.

But it was useful nonetheless.

Even without actual vision to use, he could still sense the flows of power, and any spirit on approach would be as obvious as the sun at noon. From there he could decide to alert Beatrice immediately or shift back to gather any physical description. In the meantime, he was perfectly concealed from sight, as evidenced by the officer that had completely failed to notice Lancer's presence mere feet away as he patrolled outside the church grounds.

Good for them that they do not have the threats we had to deal with. Indeed, the modern world seemed to have far less to worry about in terms of roving hostile spirits than in his day.

Once he was sure that the patrolman had left completely, he shifted back to his physical form, sinking deeper into the shadowed hedges at the edge of the church grounds. Scanning over the path leading to the church he quickly made note of some that were making their way up—one of whom he'd been sure he had already witnessed coming and leaving not long before. If any of them were Servants, they'd no doubt sense the strength of his own presence soon; that he couldn't sense any of theirs did nothing to reassure him that they might be masters or mere bystanders.

"Be ready, Beatrice. It looks like you may have other visitors incoming."
Fionn MacKerracher


@Raineh Daze



Fionn nodded as Erich spoke. It only made sense; fey magic might be hard to incorporate in the same skillset that Erich himself had or that Fionn had been learning from Lilia, and on top of that, the man had no clue what Fionn was capable of as a starting point. Asking for some sort of demonstration of what he could manage was natural. Were it pure swordplay, he'd be happy to oblige.

"Aye, well, there lies the problem," Fionn began, drawing his sword. "It was only...oh, about a month ago that Tyaethe figured out I had the talent. I imagine it was her idea to get Lilia to stick around, I'm sure you know how she is about magic." Still, with Lilia's help, he'd at least been able to work out the spell she used to render her weapon non-lethal. That would be a better showing than just making a light at the end of it, no doubt.

He brought his left hand up to the base of the blade, ready to trace the protective spell along it, but as he opened his mouth to speak he realized the words that Lilia had rehearsed with him for the last three weeks had all disappeared from his mind. He could recall the exact rhythm and melody that she always used casting the spell, but even the first word was utterly impossible to grasp.

His brow furrowed in frustration. She'd worked him on it until he couldn't get it wrong, he should've been able to at least say the words in his sleep. Somehow, though, they'd all left him. Some trick of Merilia's little world? He doubted it; if the goal was for them all to get better with what they already knew, removing that same knowledge would be an utterly pointless hindrance.

His foot tapped the ground as he glared at the blade. Once. Twice. Then he sighed, closing them. Multiple choice phrases flew through his mind in response to the sudden forgetfulness, pointless lashing out at the false ground that Merilia had given him to stand upon.

"Krini!" he growled under his breath, a forceful stomp accompanying the word. The energy he'd been trying to focus to his blade went out into the ground instead, shaking violently under his foot for a moment. His eyes popped back open in surprise, stepping back as the topsoil in that small portion of the garden shifted and collapsed around himself and Erich. Surprisingly, he didn't fall.

"...Well, that's...new." At the very least, he was sure that he'd never been taught to make small earthquakes happen. Fiadh had done it a few times when she'd been annoyed enough, commanding the ground itself to shake in response to her mood, and usually sending Fionn himself stumbling or falling when she did. But she'd never—

Fionn blinked. He'd never even known what the words meant before. Now it seemed like he just did.

"Oh." He sheepishly looked over to Erich. "You're alright, aye? This might take more experimenting than I'd thought. Seems Fiadh wasn't too careful about keeping anything I'd already learned."
Fionn MacKerracher


@Raineh Daze



"That business in the crypt, right? Well, I can't claim to be one of the ones you actually owe, I was watching over the princesses instead, but I might claim the repayment in their place." That certainly seemed to break the ice well enough; Fionn put his raised hand out forward for a handshake. "Fionn MacKerracher. Would've waited a bit longer to come bother you, but all the ones I'd been wanting to work with back at the castle are occupied with some of the others instead. Lilette's working on the captain, I think Fleuri will get more out of Florian than I would at this point, you know how it is."

He might not have, for all Fionn knew; a man of Erich's place could possibly have had the best teachers whenever he wanted, or maybe instead only had the one in his journey to knighthood. Either way, it wasn't worth considering.

Instead, he held up the other hand to show the silvery, leaf-shaped mark in his palm. "Tyaethe figured out I had an aptitude for magic, I've been working with Lilette's daughter on it a bit, and now I've got one Niyar who's invested into me for it; mind if I ask you to teach me some as well?"
Fionn MacKerracher


@Raineh Daze



While he hadn't expected that his walk down the road would lead to a yet longer trek, it wasn't as though Fionn could really complain—without even asking for any introduction, the servant had just decided to direct him to the misplaced garden without needing any real introduction whatsoever. Despite the various reasons that could easily explain why that was, Fionn was still disinclined to invite any possible ill fortune his way by whining about something inconsequential.

Once he made his way deeper into the garden and found Erich Cazt, however, he finally found himself momentarily at a loss for how to proceed. Generally, he tried to avoid interrupting people who were in the middle of one task or another, which Erich was; however, existing within this little sliver of reality for, presumably, however long Merilia would meant that anybody within might well have all the time they could ever want to devote to their hobbies.

On top of that, he wasn't entirely certain how best to introduce himself or proceed with the Demonbreaker. Any knowledge one had of the other's reputation only went one way, unlike how when he'd first joind the Roses at least some of them knew of the mercenary company he'd been in and could at least guess as to his own background. That was an immediate conversation topic, some common ground, and it quickly did away with the more annoying formalities of introducing himself.

By Mayon, it's as bad as the first time I met a knight.

Rather than agonize over it like he might have years before, however, he strode forwards confidently. There was really nothing better to do than dive in and hope for the best, and luckily this wasn't as bad as another ball might have been.

"You know, I thought Gerard had been exaggerating when he said how large your armour was. I'll have to apologize to him for that." He raised a hand in greeting, making himself relax through force of will in a way he couldn't when his band had come across their first actual knights that they'd worked with during the war. "Erich Cazt, aye? Does Tyaethe get her height from her dad's side, then, or is that just something for all the women you're related to? I can't imagine Veilena will be happy if she's already hit her full height now."
Fionn MacKerracher


@Raineh Daze



Fionn's gaze followed Cyrus's pointing, picking out the slightly different colour stone after a moment. Once he knew what he was looking for, it did stand out—although having come from the modern city of Aimlenn, where monocoloured buildings like this fantasy of Talderia didn't exist, that sort of differentiating factor had been the last thing on his mind. If he squinted, he thought he could possibly make out a familiar building or two within the outer wall.

Strange. He didn't think he'd ever come that close to the main Cazt estate, always being on the edge of the war. Maybe after, and he just hadn't known it?

He squinted.

No, some of those buildings were definitely familiar from within Aimlenn. But they didn't have the gatehouse or the small moat surrounding them anymore in his time. Well as he could guess, though, the courtyard was probably still a courtyard. Guess they do keep a place in the city. Probably used to be just outside and got swallowed up as the years went on. At least, that was the possibility that made the most sense to him.

"It is, isn't it?" he said finally, in response to Cyrus pointing out how close it was, before starting forwards again with a wave while the tall man still stood next to the street stall they'd passed. "Well, I'm just after having lunch, so I'm going to go get busy. If I'm not back for dinner, just assume I'm staying with the old man. Might see if you can find Gerard back in Candaeln and tell him I won't be joining his practice today."

Fionn had no clue if Cyrus intended to keep following along or not, but now that he knew what he was looking for—and could see that the gate on the gatehouse was invitingly open, making him feel like having Cyrus along to introduce him and get him entry wasn't particularly necessary—he cut a brisk pace down the road. No sense in wasting time, after all.

Across the bridge, through the gate, and then—

"Ah. Great hall has to be in there for sure." Whether the quadrangle enclosing the courtyard had been constructed as such from the beginning or merely the result of the initial structures growing together over time, the primary dwelling was obvious, not only from the fact that it looked as much like a castle's keep with a more civilized façade as like a simple house, but by the elegant, arched door that led into it, large enough to keep any noble procession entertained and moving quickly without overly sacrificing the building's defence. It was still a status symbol as much as anything else—he shuddered to imagine how much heat would be lost through it in the winter—but it would still be defensible.

No doubt the oak door that filled it was thick enough to weigh twice or more what Fionn himself did.

A thickness that was confirmed as he knocked hard upon it, his strikes barely sounding out a dull thud rather than the drum-like beat he might normally call forth.
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