The Otter

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

@The Otter: It's after midnight so I don't look at bios officially, tomorrow!

@VitaVitaAR

tell me i'm pretty

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

I got inspired and did a thing.

Calben

Name: Calaphindë, often called Calben after an unfortunate incident with someone that couldn't entirely read his handwriting and ended up misreading/mispronouncing his name.

Age: Approximately 150

Gender: Male

Race: Elf (Wood/High)

Rank: Copper*

Appearance: Grey-haired, bright eyed, smooth and youthful even by the standards of the ageless elves—despite the obvious intelligence shining within his green gaze, it's clear just looking at him that Calben is a quite young elf. 5'8" tall, thin, and perhaps a bit soft, coupled with the artfully made clothing he wears and lack of any sort of scarring, he does not cut a particularly adventure-y sort of figure. He's clearly physically fit, of course, and holds every weapon he has like he knows how to use it—but he lacks any sign of real life experience or hardship to lend gravitas to his features.

Of note are his curiously short ears for an elf.

Personality: Wide-eyed, idealistic, and absolutely delighting in getting to experience the world beyond his home. Calben clearly has the mind of a scholar, especially given his near-perfect recall of almost everything he witnesses, so long as he pays attention to it. With that comes a drive to learn more, see more, do more—he's a hard worker and doesn't shy away from nearly any challenge put before him, but tales of the capriciousness and flightiness of elves are proven in how he goes about whatever catches his fancy. Woe be to any who expect him to keep paying attention if he should spot some rare alchemical ingredient while they're walking down a trail...

Brief Backstory: Born in the Wood Elven city of Almindon, Calaphindë's father is a skilled archer and bowyer, serving within the city's guard, overseeing some training for them and any who may wish to volunteer for it in times of trouble, and selling his bows on the side; his mother is actually a High Elf, as skilled with magic as is expected of her kindred. The pair oversaw Calaphindë's education as soon as he was able to start, tutoring him in their respective skills while both fostered in him a general love of knowledge and scholarly mindset. His mother taught him of magical spellcraft and alchemy, while his father taught him not only how to fight with bow and spear, but also how to interact with other people, a valuable skill in his own work. His wider family taught him how to hunt, how to survive off the land, the laws of their settlement—all the general education that a young elf of Almindon would be expected to know.

Calaphindë took to most of it well, though not without a few hiccups here and there as he experimented with things he likely shouldn't have.

It has since been some decades since he last saw his mother, as she was called back to the family of her birth, behind Lethienvel, beyond even the settlements that the High Elves had made beyond the Veil. As such, his magical education could be said to have lagged somewhat compared to the more physical or social pursuits passed from his father—though as much of the city learned before he was very old, he never really forgot something that he put his focus on, and it's more a matter of practice. However, perhaps brought on by the same drive that first set his mother to set out so far from the High Elven settlements and come to Almindon, the elf boy was restless. The city and its immediate surroundings were not enough to hold his interest forever, not compared to the stories he'd heard from both his parents, the rest of his family, and the few traders that were allowed to come of the rest of the world beyond their city and their tract of forest, not compared to the tales and histories he could read in the books available to him.

Much like his mother, he was also not one for long goodbyes. With little enough said to ensure he'd be stocked well enough for the journey, Calaphindë set out from Almindon, and as he was in search of adventure, in search of the chance to verify and experience all the things he'd learned of, joined the Estivalian Adventurer's Guild at the first opportunity that presented itself. He quickly learned to be less artistic with his handwriting, after an unfortunately not-Elvish-experienced guild member thoroughly misread and mispronounced his name, giving him a nickname that has stuck ever since; the rest of the guild that tried to determine his skillset and placement found themselves with a dilemma of just how to rank him, with such a breadth of knowledge but no actual experience behind any of it.

To his (only mild) dismay, they assigned Calaphindë the provisional rank of Copper, and set him to work with more real-world experienced members of the guild to see if he was quick enough to actually cut it at Iron or Steel or if he'd really have to start from the bottom and work his way up.

Equipment: Other than general travelling gear, standard the world over, Calaphindë's possessions are totaled up in the form of a journal, a couple of books brought with him about general upkeep of the stuff he has and the sorts of materials he may be able to find while he's out travelling (he hasn't finished reading that one yet, so he just brought it with him), he has a longbow with arrows and a quiver (all lovingly made by his father) a somewhat long-bladed hewing spear (often finds itself used as a walking staff), and should all else fail (or he needs to cut through some particularly dense brush or the like), he has a small, light falchion/hanger type blade.

Notably, he does not have any special focus to channel the magic he knows through.

He may have forgotten it when he was packing to leave home.

Skills: Despite his parents' best efforts, he's not particularly great with other people. He's friendly, he can generally get along, but expecting him to be a leader or persuasive or the like is a stretch.

Other than that, though, he picked up on everything relatively well—fighting skills courtesy of his father, hunting and survival skills, even magic courtesy of his mother, though he's rather limited with the latter given a lack of practice and lack of a good focus to use in spellcraft, and the former has yet to really be tested. Perhaps most unique to him is his nearly photographic memory; for things that he experiences, whether that be reading them, seeing them, tasting, smelling, hearing, feeling—Calaphindë's recall is almost entirely perfect, barring the obvious inherent bias that every observer has.

Of course, that bias comes with one clear drawback—it is entirely focused on whatever he was focused on. And for him to recall anything, it has to catch and hold his focus enough for him to actually think about it, as any spontaneous memory is far more likely to be related to his interests that have captured his attention than for anything that might be directly helpful. For the guild, this is already a known struggle for those that have to deal with him to overcome, but if they're careful about it, it may be more useful than it seems...

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Esben Mathiassen

---

The barrier conjured up by Leviathan dissipated almost as quickly as the great serpent did, but it managed to keep Esben and Éliane from getting disintegrated by the blast that Reisa had let loose. However, the excess energies that weren't spent on outright destruction still washed over them, killing the engine in the ætherskimmer. He fought with the stick for a moment, trying to maintain some semblance of control, but it was an impossibility; the small craft was entirely reliant on its engine and manipulating the flow of æther around them, it wasn't an ærodynamic craft in any way.

Inevitably, it started to spin and fall, though the pair aboard it were lucky enough to spot the aid that had finally come for the party. Esben's eyes focused in on golden platform, counting who all had landed on it. Not one unaccounted for—good.

"Time to bail!" He stepped up in the seat, launching himself out of it with a powerful push of his legs, knowing Éliane would be shortly behind him. He twisted slightly in his fall, aiming for one Kirin in particular, one already moving to catch him, and shouted out just as he was snatched from the air by Rudolf's leap: "Throw me!"

And in less than a blink he was hurtling towards Reisa and the weapon she piloted. Izayoi had already come forth ahead of him, her fury and her blade providing ample threat for the enemy commander to focus on. He contorted himself, barely avoiding getting impaled as they struck at each other, grasping at one of the weapon's shoulders to stop himself.

Without another thought he launched himself towards the head, where he could see Izayoi was trying to get to, pushed the barrel of one of his purloined pistols through the open socket where an optic had been, and rapidly firing off the four remaining rounds in its cylinder into the compartment where Reisa should be.

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Esben Mathiassen

---

Just as the pair slid out the open window the engine of the ætherskimmer came to life, managing to keep them from plummeting like all the Valheimer not fortunate enough to find their ways onto any of the other skimmers. Not without difficulty—Esben was having to pull on the stick with all his weight to try and make the craft respond, but thankfully it did manage to do so—but at least they were keeping afloat and alive for a moment longer. "Ja, ja, for en herlig dag," he sarcastically muttered to himself.

It wasn't a lovely day at all.

He looked down to the rest, where the airship was about to impact Reisa and the mech she piloted, just in time to catch the incantation she was broadcasting out to them. He scowled down, muttering again—"Ikke bare bare. Just once I'd like something to go right! Jeg tror ikke det, Reisa! Over mitt lik!" He set the skimmer to hover, pulling his journal out, thumbed open to the newest page, marked with the same symbol that had been carved into the altar where Isolde had tried to trick the entire group.

Eos and Selene would have to disappear again, he had no way to maintain so much at once. Once again the pair would likely scold him as soon as he summoned them in again, but there was little that they could do to stop the explosion of raw æther coming out of the Ruby Weapon. He had no clue how Leviathan might react to being called on, so soon after her struggle with Siren and being dispelled by Reisa, or if he'd even have enough in him to call on her, but there was no choice but to risk it.

"Leviathan..." He winced as the connection was established, and the roiling, boiling storm of the eidolon's fury rushed through his mind as though a burst dam trying to drown out the village below. There were no words, this time, not like when she'd been unwittingly challenged by the Kirins, only the hate for the invaders that had wounded her pride, that sought to corrupt the land and the spirits themselves. Straining to be released, to try and visit her vengeance upon the one at their head. "Not like that," he tried to argue back. Like arguing with a tsunami...no wonder Cid had brought Ifrit along.

"Your barrier, Leviathan. Let her incinerate herself, and let that be retribution enough!"

The tide receded for a moment. He stretched out the glowing symbol, the spectral form of the gargantuan Sea Queen rearing up, eyes burning with a furious glare to match the Dragon King himself. As in his mind, there were no words for the invaders—just an enraged roar, as the conflagration was encapsulated by a quick-rising ætherial waterspout joining the spells cast by Rudolf and Miina.

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Esben Mathiassen

---

Esben heard a clatter of Valheimer troops as, in the midst of diving for cover from Éliane's cannon, were thrown into disarray by his throwing the ship onto a new course. Metallic clangs as some of them crashed into the walls, jingling ammunition in pouches and belts, and a host of barbarian curses. Luckily for them, the invaders were stuck in a choke point of their own making, and with Éliane's own proclivities he wasn't terribly concerned about them yet. "Hope everything is going well over there!" he called out, before stomping down with one foot to keep one of the bridge crew bodies from flopping away.

He bent down, stripping away the deceased man's pistol, holster, and the pouch of ammunition he'd been carrying for it, tying them off to the side of his sword belt as quickly as he could. Cursing like the soldiers just past the entrance, he stepped over the body, half-throwing himself towards the console that had the throttles. Luckily, Valheim at least had a better idea than some of the ships he was familiar with in the water—letting the bridge crew have control of the engine power and speed, rather than having to try and get the commands down to engineering.

He slammed the throttles wide open. The massive turbines that propelled the airship roared over the forest canopy as they spun up higher, pushing huge amounts of air as the ship's approach to Reisa's weapon picked up speed. The screech of metal sliding against metal rang out as the ætherskimmer that had carried him and Éliane into the Valheimer flagship started to creep along the bridge back towards the busted open viewport.

Not good. Not that it'll matter if it's completely broken, but if there's a chance...

He vaulted into the seat of the battered aircraft, quickly scanning over the controls before putting his fingers on the one that he figured should power it back up. "Come on, tell me you've still got some life—Elly, be thinking of an exit strategy if I can't start this thing!"

If they survived this, he'd have to find a way to get the story to Bikke. Éliane may not approve very much, but even if their control of the ship was short lived, airborne piracy was certainly something new...

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Esben Mathiassen

---

The pair of them mopped up the rest of the bridge crew quickly, freeing Esben to search for the controls to the vessel. Thankfully, they didn't seem to be terribly damaged from their entrance—ideally, they'd still work to complete the second part of his plan. He put both hands on the large yoke of the craft, turning back to Éliane as she confirmed that she'd keep watch on the door. "That's good," he said, pausing for a moment before continuing:

"Be careful about that first bit, though. Rudolf might have more questions if he ever hears it."

The monstrosity that was Reisa's new weapon was clearly visible through the shattered bridge windows. He knew there was no way the flagship would control like the ætherskimmer, in the same way that a frigate was ungainly compared to a racing sloop; still, he hoped he'd have enough of a feel for it not to completely miss his mark. An escape plan could be determined afterwards. The skimmer was certainly damaged, but maybe it would be good enough to get them out and to another ship without much trouble...or maybe he'd just have to rely on Éliane's wind materia.

It wasn't much of a plan, but it was good enough for government work.

He grit his teeth, pulling the yoke to turn the Valheimer flagship on a collision course with Reisa and the other gunship. "Make sure to brace yourself!" he called back. "We're about to start falling!"

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Esben Mathiassen

---

Luckily, Esben looked up in time to notice the ordnance dropping from the flagship, breaking off from his pursuit of the other skimmers just to make sure he and Éliane weren't caught by whatever it was, either on the way down—or, more presciently, on its way back up. The pair glided slowly along as it started to shoot back up, Siren and Leviathan caught in its claws, as he tried to figure out just what he was looking at. "What in Etro's name have they done this time..." he muttered, as Leviathan was crushed into a spray of æther and Siren into a faint spray of blood.

It was almost disappointing, for the half a second he entertained the thought. After what had happened out on the ocean, he'd wanted to be the one to finish the undead woman off.

But they had far more pressing things to deal with than such wants and wishes.

Something that large, with no clue of the actual armour or combat capabilities as of yet, only that it was enough to crush an eidolon and her copy after a drop from altitude and had some sort of aerial capabilities of its own, was an obvious threat. Moreover, the remainder of the Valheimer forces were still active, including the flagship it had dropped from. Somehow, he doubted the ætherskimmer would be enough to combat it alone, even with the rest of the group working in concert. He could be wrong, of course, but he'd rather be safe than sorry.

"Éliane," he started, turning back to the pink-haired gunner as Reisa started her address, "We need something bigger to hit her with, ja? You would agree?"

"Absolutely!" she readily agreed, nodding rapidly back. He turned back to his controls, glancing up at the flagship. "Two birds with one stone, then," he mused to himself. "Aim for the windows, and then make sure to duck, this might be rough!"

He jerked the craft upwards, opening the throttle wide as it sped up towards the flagship that Reisa and her giant weapon had dropped from. He wasn't entirely unfamiliar with the Valheimer airships, even before setting off on the journey that eventually led to him joining the Kirins and fighting them face-to-face. The layouts were fairly standard, which made finding the bridge a simple prospect.

While the pair of them couldn't hope to commandeer the vessel guns and all, they could try to take control of its bridge. From there, they could, at the very least, turn the Valheimer flagship itself into a missile.

He leveled out quickly, flying straight for the flagship's bridge. After a moment to make sure he was properly level he let off the throttle and opened fire, aiming to shatter the wide windows he was aiming for, and heard Éliane's gun behind him doing the same. The next second he ducked low beneath the bit of windshield he had as the skimmer glided through the blasted windows and started to slide across the deck.

He leaped, rolled on landing, still slid into one wall as he came upright again. Not hard enough to give him much more than an annoying bruise, especially with the magic Eos had cast on them all as the fight started. He whipped his sword from its sheath, cutting down the first member of the bridge crew to come close to him in the same movement, diving forward to grab the woman's dropped pistol before coming up and opening fire on another one of the invaders that managed to recover from the shock quickly.

"Éliane, watch the door!" he called out to wherever she had hopefully landed safely. Another flash bomb from her to keep any of rest of the crew stunned would be helpful, but knowing her she'd already have one ready to go if she had any to begin with.

Another crewman popped up at the sound of his voice, falling backwards with a strangled cry as Esben fired another round into his chest.

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Esben Mathiassen

---

"I'd like to see any of you do any better your first time in one of these," Esben grumbled back. At least he'd kept from crashing, getting hit, or anything else bad, all while facing the people that were experienced with the craft. Not only that, but he'd managed to actual go on the attack with it!

That had to count for something.

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Esben Mathiassen

---

Eos and Selene had little trouble interspersing themselves among the rest of the Kirins, their small size and speed helping them to evade the crossfire that was enveloping the deck. Even though they'd only all had a short nap to try and bolster themselves before the fight, Eos set about casting her magic over the group, shoring up their strength and restoring energy to tired limbs—as Selene weaved her own spell, ensuring the group could more than keep up with the barrage coming their way.

They, luckily, knew exactly what they were doing. Esben, where he sat in the 'cockpit' of one of the aetherskimmers, knew what his plan was...but without any piloting experience of this sort of craft, it was a far stretch to claim he had any firm idea of what he was doing. Mowing down a decent number of the hostiles facing them was a good starting strategy, but as they rapidly adjusted, he was left considering how to do the same.

While under fire.

The instruments at least seemed...somewhat intuitive. Flight level was simple enough to determine. One that, out of how it moved in the corner of his eye, he must assume was marking his altitude. A compass was obvious, one that was turning at the same time as the flight level, two of them that marked speed for some reason.

Easy enough to hopefully not crash.

He climbed and rolled out of the way of oncoming fire, one of the skimmers flying past underneath him. Once he came upright again he pushed the craft into a dive, drawing down on the flyer that was trying to evade him even as he could hear the other strain to turn and come after him. A fireball erupted overhead as he screamed underneath it, before the entire gunship was enveloped in a flaming vortex.

The lead skimmer turned hard and he followed, the three of them passing below the deck, skirting between the conflagration that surrounded the larger vessel and its hull. Tight as it was, he couldn't manage to get any lead on the first, so he kept off the trigger to keep from wasting any ammunition when he didn't have the faintest clue how much it held.

When they came up around the other side of the great loop they made, though, he could see very clearly a target that he did have a good bearing on, side-on to him.

Perhaps...too good of a bearing.

"Fy faen," he spat, pulling up rapidly. He passed over the top of the skimmer, gunfire erupting from behind him—whether from Éliane or from the skimmer behind him he had no clue, although none of it touched him, which was good. Ideally, he might've led the Valheimer into some friendly fire. Either way, he rolled upside down, dove, turned back and rolled again to right himself...

And nearly skipping off the deck as he rose again, he opened fire on the pilot that had so doggedly followed him around the ship.

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Esben Mathiassen

---

Esben rolled deftly as the Kirins fell on the deck of the destroyer, one quick tumble over his shoulders bringing him back on his feet without issue. If travelling with the group had taught him one thing, it was that he could never hope for any plan to go anywhere close to how it was intended—it was nice when they did, despite complications, but sometimes the complications were too much. Like getting discovered the second they made it into Mizutani Tane's mansion—

—Or being knocked from the sky.

He ignored Valon's monologue, making a quick headcount of those that had landed on the deck. Making sure nobody had gone too wide or too short, that none of their party had to suffer the fate of an undignified tumble through the canopy to their death. Luckily, they always managed to avoid that particular sort of misfortune. "Alright, Eos, Selene, time to come out," he muttered, focusing on the aether-infused runes they'd written into his notebook to draw the pair back out. They winked into existence to either side of him as the traitor dragoon challenged them.

"Why do you always—"

"No time for that!" Esben pointed at one of the aetherskimmers. "I'm taking that, you two are helping me get there. Got it? Let's go!"

"Wait, what—"

While they may have been happy to see him still alive after having been so suddenly disincorporated during the fight with Famfrit, Esben couldn't afford to give them any time to catch up with what was going on. Miina and Éliane turned to Valon, a shot ringing out; Rudolf's gravity materia came into play, putting all the false dragoons under greater strain just to stay airborne, and with the fairies clinging to his cloak, Esben could feel their power combined to try and keep him as strong and fast as possible despite having barely had a nap before the fight.

He sprinted past the ring of troops surrounding them as they tried to keep up with all the sudden distractions, leaping onto one of the small craft. The Valheimer pilot looked up with wide eyes, slow to react to the grey blur that had suddenly boarded him, and Esben ripped him out of the seat and pushed him down to the deck. He fell into the seat afterwards, both hands on the controls, one finger on the trigger for the cannon on the prow, and yanked it to the side.

The craft jerkily turned, moving like an ungainly beast under the unskilled hands of its newest pilot—but he could get enough of a feel for it to keep it from rolling over and dumping him back out, or slamming into the deck all on its own. And of course, never one to give up whatever element of surprise he had, he pulled the trigger the instant the gun was no longer pointed at the Kirins, raking the Valheimer troops, false dragoons, and other skimmers with cannon fire. "Back on the rest, you two," he commanded the fairies. "I think I've got things from here, but if I crash, make sure to come pull me out, ja?"

Eos and Selene did not appear to be particularly impressed by his joke, but all the same, they took advantage of him laying down some suppressing fire to fly back to the rest of the Kirins so that the entire team could take advantage of their abilities.