The Otter

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Esben Mathiassen

---

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

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

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?"

Blades of Iron Roses: An Anime-Inspired Knight RP

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."

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Ranbu no Izayoi and Esben Mathiassen

---

"Izayoi. Care to talk for a minute or two?"

For the love of the gods, could she not get a single moment to herself?! Torn from her ruminations about her newfound blood relations, Izayoi could only fix Esben with a withering glare that she knew he wouldn’t be affected by. It was freeing, in a way. With Esben, she could express as much as she cared to without holding back, and he was composed enough to handle it in a way that certain other members of the party weren’t.

”No. I do not.” She replied bluntly, turning away from him in a deliberate show of her irritation. ”But I suppose you will blather on regardless. So out with it. This had best be worth the time, Esben.”

”Well, if you’re just going to give me permission to ignore your answer...” Let no one accuse him of being unwilling to play along, even when they might prefer he didn’t. ”Drana Asnaeu has barely kept above the level of an unmitigated disaster since the moment we stepped off Bikke’s ship, no? Not all of that is due to things under our control, but two of the sources are, and I’m afraid they won’t listen to me alone.”

It certainly wouldn’t take a genius to figure out just what two he was referring to, or why—so he brushed right on past without a second thought, unless Izayoi would decide now was the time to play dumb out of frustration. ”I’ve already tried to impress upon one of them the importance of adjusting our methodology to our circumstances, and didn’t get particularly far. I would like to enlist your aid speaking to the both of them about it.”

There was a moment when Izayoi felt like being particularly difficult about this. After all, she had her own issues to deal with right now, and Esben should rightfully be back inside that damned tent. But she would humor him nonetheless.

”And supposing I agree with them? Drana Asnaeu has given me little reason to do otherwise thus far.”

Well, she was a terrible liar, even to herself. It seemed she wanted to be just a little difficult after all. Esben couldn’t have it his own way all the time, after all.

Esben’s flat stare was all the reply she received.

He received a roll of Izayoi’s eyes in response.

”I am not their keeper, SEED.” She groused, staring out at the treeline. ”That, and you presume the dragoon would listen overmuch to his brother’s killer to begin with.” A beat passed, and she decided to show some amount of grace in this matter.

”But you are not entirely incorrect. Éliane, at the very least, must be reined in should we have to negotiate again. To say nothing of the fact that I believe her threats to be idle, if I understand Skael’s chain of command correctly?”

”You do,” Esben replied without a wasted moment. ”You may not be their keeper, but I imagine they both respect you—something I am not entirely certain applies to many of the rest of us. Galahad, perhaps, could use the reminder of everything at risk from someone that lost as much as, if not more than he did, I think...Éliane could use the understanding both of you have, even if she continues to persist in her belief that she was sent as something more than a token of good-will, and not an expendable demonstration piece.”

”I killed his brother, boy.” Izayoi snapped, her nerves thin thanks to the revelations that Miina’s father had so ungraciously imposed upon her. “That, or a man under my command did. I would not have been so gracious in his place. Éliane, however, is a matter I will assist you with.“

Esben stared silently for a moment, before turning to look up at the stars himself with a sigh. ”Gracious or not, that’s part of the connection, part of what I’m counting on, Izayoi,” he muttered. ”A generation of two countries, decimated. For nothing, leaving both weak to invaders from across the ocean. It’s easier to ignore when it’s still a statistic, a number from years back.” He glanced back at the tent, shaking his head.

”He’s not a general. He should know skills beyond the belligerent, beyond counting the statistics—and yet he was nearly as inclined to feed into them as Éliane, in front of the Grovemasters. I know I can’t get everybody to let me do the talking for that all the time, nor would that be the best choice in a host of circumstances, that’s why I want to check in, make sure whether or not he could use the reminder before he gets himself hurt with his own frustrations, not to speak of everybody else around.

”Consider it part of my personal interest, or part of my country’s, whichever makes you happier,” he scoffed. ”I’d rather avoid any unnecessary hostilities, no matter the scale. But that’s all why I don’t think he’ll listen to me alone. Éliane and I don’t have any of that experience, and I’m the only one that works for an organization that actively tries to prevent others from having it. You’re the only one that shares it with him, and like it or not, you’re the fount of wisdom we have to rely on.”

”A fine way to call me old!” Izayoi groused, folding her arms and shaking her head. ”I will aid you in this matter, but, for the record? I do not care how we deal with the Grovemasters. At this point, I fully support putting every last one of the three to the sword. I have my doubts this will be an issue going forward, regardless. Éliane will obey Skaelan authority. The same goes for Galahad and that fop on the Edrenian throne. Have you considered that the issue is with the Grovemasters and them alone?”

”We were going to have pushback regardless,” he replied noncommittally. ”To assume otherwise would be blind optimism. But we didn’t have to out ourselves entirely at the harbor. We didn’t have to give in to the urge to threaten them and their land when there’s enough of a threat knocking at the doors already.” There was little need to speak regarding the conclusions he’d been coming to about how to deal with the Grovemasters, because he’d made a point to consider only those that wouldn’t require active input from the others to see them through.

It certainly made matters easier on that front that the only way he could imagine the others making themselves terribly useful would be if he wanted to storm Brightlam’s gates, anyways.

He glanced upwards again, a small frown turning down the corners of his lips as he took in the starlight. ”Thank you, Izayoi. And—awkward and unwelcome as it may be—I am glad for you.” Without turning back to the tent, he walked alone down the path, one arm raised in farewell. ”I’ll leave you with your thoughts, for now. Just be ready when I can get the two of them to hold still long enough to chat.”

A noncommittal, annoyed grunt was all Esben received as Izayoi fully turned away from him, descending into her own thoughts once more. She scowled.

ArrowFell: The Wizard Queen's Court

week's been pretty brutal

@HereComesTheSnow

understatement

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Esben Mathiassen

---

"Mmm."

Distinctly noncommittal. A talk with Galahad wasn't a bad idea, nor continuing a prior discussion with Éliane, but it wasn't yet a good time for either. "Let's put a pin in that for now. He's not the only one to talk with about such things."

---

Given the much-needed windfall that was finding Miina's tribe so soon, Esben was finally allowed a moment to actually relax. Without feeling such a need to watch their backs, without focusing so much on what he would need to do to deal with the Grovemaster problem for the moment, he could focus in on the other things that needed it. First and foremost being the group he was travelling with. The information on Izayoi's background was an idle curiosity for him, given that in current circumstances there was little utility that could be found in having that knowledge.

However, her own choice to get up and leave the chat was quite useful to him.

He silently slipped out behind the samurai, his cat-like tread rivaling the ears that any of the Mystrel around possessed. It only took a moment for his longer stride to catch up, slowing down as he came up next to her. "Izayoi. Care to talk for a minute or two?"

Blades of Iron Roses: An Anime-Inspired Knight RP

Fionn MacKerracher

---

Fiadh may well have continued worrying over it, but Fionn's reaction was just to grin once he realized that all his hair was now a bright, vivid pink. Even the fine, still-essentially-translucent hairs that absolutely covered any adult—without a doubt, his overall apparent complexion must have been something interesting at that moment. Gerard's certainly was, given that the man was now a pulsating rainbow. Sure, he may have suffered the little fairy queen's displeasure, but it was entirely performative.

Perfunctory, even. She had all the power in her realm, and they were all already aware. If she was truly so put-out, there was much more she could have done.

He had a sneaking suspicion that somewhere deep down he must have been right, and she might appreciate it...even when she had to look stern.

"Oh, dear, I've been pinked," he muttered, turning to Fiadh where she was finishing up with the captain's hair, as the Moonlit Queen turned her attention to Fleuri and eventually back to the captain. "Do I still look good?" Their host didn't waste any time, however, in giving them the task she expected as part of her wager.

Defeating the Midnight Hunt? Arken may have been dumbfounded by the idea, and mere weeks ago Fionn may have shared in his trepidation—but nearly all the knights present had found their individual capabilities greatly raised recently. Beyond that, they had Tyaethe with them, who truly had first hand experience fighting their targets. He was quite nearly the opposite of worried about it.

Someone else seemed at least as inclined not to worry, though perhaps the technicolour knight was not so relaxed about it either. "Oh, aye, I nicked one of the knight's helmets alright," he replied airily. "Was hiding up a tree, saw an opportunity, reached down and plucked it right off the head that was wearing it. Hopping between the trees until I could find a good one to go back down and run was the harder bit."

Of course, he'd never revealed that the one he yanked the helmet off of was not a Knight of the Midnight Hunt himself, as Fiadh had been sure to correct him once she learned of it. He found out later on that there was a band of mercenaries that their core had managed to survive against the Hunt, and had claimed as much of their gear as was possible in the aftermath and made it part of their company's distinctive character after. A decent number of the helmets to go around, some of the spears that they kept only for ceremonial purposes.

Yet, for all he'd told the story, he was careful to make sure he didn't lie and claim that he got it off a Knight of the Hunt directly.

Given the state his sword was in, though, he was in for some trouble in the fight if he couldn't get that taken care of. "So, after we win, would you still like me to come by and visit?" he joked at the diminutive queen, before laying a hand on the misshapen pommel of his weapon. "If so, could I ask you to fix this, if you're able, to keep things sporting? Or lend me a good blade if you have one in your collection, for the same purpose, just for the course of this challenge."

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Esben Mathiassen

---

"Hmm? Oh, sure. I'll go look with you."

In their time since washing ashore, Esben had spent the majority of it in quiet contemplation of the events that had led up to their current predicament. All told, considering just what had faced them—it wasn't a complete, unmitigated disaster. But to call it a setback would be a severe understatement. The most value he'd gotten out of everything was a clearer picture on the dynamics of the Grovemasters. Isolde, either an utter fanatic or using it to hide a deeper betrayal; Zacharias, the staunch conservative, with a seeming penchant for isolationism and superiority to match the stereotypes of Skael's leaders; and Alambert, the one that supposedly 'could be turned.'

The prospects were bleak, but not impossible.

With somewhat vacant eyes, he followed along behind Éliane towards the beach. Evidently, in the process of removing them all to the safe shore, Leviathan's waters had managed to knock pieces loose of her cannon. Perhaps her other firearms, he hadn't listened closely enough to determine just what was missing. He just barely took note of Rudolf slipping away into the forest, and with a wave and a nod, set Eos to follow along behind him. Small insurance that the swordsman wouldn't get himself killed, and if anything truly catastrophic should happen, the fairy would be able to fly back and warn the group extremely quickly.

Combing the beach with Éliane, and leaving Eos to watch over Rudolf, with Selene floating behind him ready to step in or fly off for anything else he might need, did not require much of his mental bandwidth, leaving him free to think over other things.

The first being that he would need to have a talk with both Éliane and Galahad at some point. Likely with Izayoi's backing, as she had learned her lessons about not letting her temper dictate how she conducted herself, and he didn't hold much hope that either would be likely to listen to him much without the backup. Talks with everybody about not volunteering information where it wasn't necessary, though some of that was due as much to what Neve had shared with her masters as anything the rest of the group had actually said.

More than that, however, he needed to come up with a plan for dealing with the Grovemasters themselves. No doubt they would all be on high alert and under heavy guard, though that was nothing he was terribly unfamiliar with. Getting close to them was not his primary worry. What to do once he had was. Eliminating them all, tying up the loose threads, and rendering Drana Asnaeu little more than a protectorate was an option, but an unsavory one. Best to keep only for a complete emergency scenario, as the likelihood of reprisal and rebellion would increase exponentially if he should have to make that move.

The name Cid, however, had gotten some purchase with them. Not only with Isolde, though she was the one who found the most opportunity to gain from it in her personal goals. The most conservative member of the trio had the greatest reaction to it, while it had provided enough for Alambert at least to call them into their chambers, rather than continuing to deliberate openly. The primal elementals were obviously of importance as well, given that they were sent to undertake a trial with Leviathan—no doubt part of Isolde's doing, but the point remained. Should he manage to get one of them away, to commune with the eidolons, then perhaps—

"Eh?"

"You weren't supposed to say that!"

Evidently Rudolf and Eos had returned, with the corpse of a bear in tow. The sun's position in the sky had notably changed, and as he looked behind, he noticed the line of tracks that he and his countrywoman had left behind them as they combed the beach. "That's why I sent her, yes. Glad to know I made the right choice." Eos fluttered over to Selene, as the pair began to go over just what the green one had witnessed following behind Rudolf. He clicked his tongue, a brief bout of annoyance coming over him as he was pulled out of his thoughts, digging his toes into the sand...and striking metal.

He bent down, lifting out what looked like some sort of worm on its shaft out of the sand, where it had been barely buried. "Hmm. This isn't what you were looking for, is it, Éliane?" he asked the pink-haired woman, holding it up where she could see, revealing the hand crank attached to it. "I haven't missed too much while we've been walking about, have I?"

The Elder Scrolls VI: Sentinel

Keirthanil

---

Keirthanil retained his pleasant disposition even as the Argonian...smiled at him.

He had no real clue what its gender was. He knew from studies and observations that certain members of female portion of the species had pseudo-breasts, a rare biological skeuomorphic adaptation to help them fit in with the other intelligent, bipedal races of Tamriel, as dictated by the Hist. This one lacked such projections, but that didn't necessarily mean that it wasn't female; the Altmer had long learned to assume male and correct himself if necessary, as he had already done.

At least the voice seemed more likely to be masculine, a point of obvious familiarity he could rely on to facilitate his intentional hiding of his disgust at the lizard's expression.

"Guards, like most men, hold distaste for anything they don't understand. It's unsurprising that an Argonian reading a book would alarm them—I doubt they'd even look long enough to see what you're reading." Much as they'd devoted even more focus to his species than his occupation...it was the height of foolishness, but in some ways it was a useful foolishness. "Are you a conjurer, then? I expect that the majority of what you focus on selling is armamancy scrolls, then. I can't imagine the guards would be inclined to let you sell any atronachs, assuming they could read enough to see what your work was about."

He looked down at the table, perusing over some of the half-finished scrolls that the Argonian had arrayed before him. Taking a break from writing, most likely. Something to suit the short-sighted nature of how he'd described his business, anyways; appreciation for the arcane could be fostered through his own skill and his offerings, not reliance on a good library and hopeful curiosity on the part of the locals. That he would blame slow business on the lack of a library, and spend time at his front reading rather than working...

"May I see some of your finished scrolls?"

He did not expect anything of particularly great quality; the unfinished scrolls already had what seemed glaring errors to his eyes, so he expected that the finished scrolls, while functional, likely contained similar problems. If the conjurer's skill was as he expected, then there would likely be an even faster, easier way to achieve his goals in this conversation.

Ah, if only I'd managed to take some of those old Psijic tomes with me...telepathy could be useful here. No matter, though, I'm sure the Telvanni girl can handle herself.

Blades of Iron Roses: An Anime-Inspired Knight RP

Fionn MacKerracher

---

He had been as sure that he had the right idea as Fiadh seemed sure that he had the wrong idea. Tyaethe, Gertrude, and some of the others no doubt shared the sentiment or one similar—he was certain the former would have some choice words for him later, and the latter just as quickly pulled back away from him. Unsurprisingly, he was right; their Moonlit Queen clapped her hands, her delight likely only tempered by the fact that she hadn't been able to watch the proceedings.

That tale alone was enough to sell his talents in combat, most likely. It seemed just as likely that they would need to focus in on other things, as this diminutive fairy wasn't likely to focus on the same things any of them were.

He raised his hand, adjusting the lay of his hauberk over his shoulders. As he did, he pulled a small twig out from between the links, likely broken off of the construct that they'd fought not long before. "You get lonely, don't you?" he mused out loud, turning the twig around in his fingers. He thought for a moment, before his grip tightened for a moment—

"Aletou."

—and the twig grew, lengthening in his grasp before splitting off at the end into a small bouquet of the same white blossoms that had bloomed all over the remnants of the tree-snake they had felled. He cut the flow of mana off quickly, rather than letting it continue to grow until it would try to root itself again.

Then he stepped forward, leaning down and holding out the flowering twig to the Moonlit Queen. "It's not much, like, but I'm good at entertaining little girls," he said brightly. "Why, not long ago a local princess declared me her Stalwart Ball Knight, and of course..." He held up his left hand, freed of its gauntlet and showing the mark that Fiadh had left in his palm. He was, of course, entirely straight-faced...though he didn't know whether or not Gerard or Renar would manage to maintain such after the reminder of what Maletha had dubbed him. "She likes me too, at least. You're both kinda little right now, I assume that's on purpose."