vietmyke

Vradia: Tales of the Chosen Few

Cormag Ruunsten

Cormag Ruunsten

---

Basic Information

---

Age:

Late 30s

Race:

Ogre

---

---

Detailed Appearance:

Large and hulking in size and stature, Cormag is hard not to notice. Standing in just under 8 feet in height, and weighing somewhere around the ballpark of 490 lbs, Cormag is built like a brick shit house of pure brawn and bone. Despite his stature, Cormag actually has a notably soft step and a surprising amount of deft for his size. His pale skin is hardened like leather, and his jet black hair is cut short, with a thick beard. His body is littered with a mosaic of scars, often interrupting the considerable amount of tattoo work done on his skin. Both arms are covered from wrist to shoulder in tattoos with motifs of mythical creatures of old, in the tradition of ogre shamans.

Class(es) (two max):

Battle Smith Artificer - Forge Cleric

Alignment:

Lawful Neutral

Likes:

• Honest work
• Mead, music and gold
• Loyalty and integrity
• Birds
• Well made craftsmanship of any sort

Dislikes:

• Liars
• Large bodies of water (He sinks like a rock)
• Bad omens
• Sitting (He often breaks furniture, which is embarrassing)

Backstory:

Cormag's biological parentage is unknown even to him, but his first memories were of the Ellezag Plains, in the ship sized wagons of an Ogrish nomad kingdom, in one of the few remaining nomadic Ogre war-tribes of Ellezag. His people were not unlike other Ogrish tribes- nomadic, warlike and traditionalist. The Ogrish tribe of the Nar Mat Kordh-Ishi were as much a military unit as they were clans and families. Newborns and younglings were provided all of the resources the clan had to offer, until they matured as adults at the age of 12. Afterwards, they were expected to provide 8 years of service to the Clan. After those 8 years, they were allowed to get married, leave, or stay on with the clan- which to little surprise, most stayed.

Cormag was no exception to these rules. As a child, he learned the values of his clan, a combination of martial prowess and discipline, alongside shamanistic teachings and spirituality. Cormag's education focused primarily on the creation of weapons and armor- as the eldest son of the tribe's craftsclan. For years, Cormag would study under the tutelage of his adoptive father Garbade Ruunsten, forging weapons, tools and whatever else the tribe needed.

As he reached adulthood, Cormag would join the ranks of the Nar Mat Kordh-Ishi and put those teachings into practice. The famed Nar Mat Kordh-Ishi made their way across Vradia- a brutally effective mercenary unit for hire, and would serve anyone with the resources to pay. Grudges were never held nor meted out, and they were never more brutal than they had to be- or were paid to be. Across their history, the Nar Mat-Kordh-Ishi had seen service with and against Imperial forces, and saw plenty of work with the city states of Regnad.

The Nar Mat Kordh-Ishi's work would eventually bring them into direct conflict with the Empire as they were hired alongside a small budding army of Secessionists bent on carving their own corner of the Empire. Like the stories of old, the Nar Mat Kordh-Ishi and the secessionists met the Imperial army on the open plains of Ellezag.

The ensuing battle was short, vicious, and laughably one-sided.

Despite their training and skill, their size and brutality, the Nar Mat Kordh-Ishi were crushed under the sheer numerical might of the Imperial army. Reduced from a proud clan of landships and warriors to a shadow of their former selves, with their once proud clan ships in burning tatters, the famed Nar Mat Kordh-Ishi were effectively no more.

Following their defeat, one particularly enterprising Imperial commander decided that instead of wiping ogres off the continent, showing the remaining Ogre tribes mercy might do better for the Empire than not. Thus began the decades long process of integrating the 'more civilized than average' Clan Ogres into imperial society. The integration process has been slow and is still within its infancy- and not without its own troubles. Humanfolk for the most part still distrust Ogres- and Ogres humans. For their part, Ogres have proven surprisingly industrious- their large size meant they excelled in construction and labor, but several of their number- such as Cormag, also made for surprisingly excellent craftsmen.

Cormag and his clan would eventually make their home in Volenstul- its large size and presence as a trade hub meant there was always plentiful work. Though their presence in the city remains tenuous at best, relegated mostly to the Harbor district, or otherwise kept out of sight. The vast majority of Clan ogres have slowly been integrated into the Imperial army as heavy shock infantry, the old clan resurfacing as the Nar Ir-Har, Imperial Auxiliaries. Others- like Cormag's father, found themselves in direct service to the Emperor, as a royal artisan.

Surprisingly, Cormag took well to the new adjustments, working regularly alongside the Royal Guard with increasing frequency as the Plague began to become more and more widespread. It is widely believed (though entirely unfounded) that Ogres are immune to the Plague on account of their robust physiology and immune system- this belief is entirely untrue, but many in the Empire still believe it, and as the Empire finds itself spread thin containing the plague, more and more of the Nar Ir-Har find themselves called to service on behalf of the Empire.

After returning to Volenstul after a season away, Cormag found that his father has gone missing- his workshop a mess and vandalized. With nothing but cryptic notes and burnt letters left, Cormag set off- to find his father, or what he left behind.

Personal Characteristics:

Despite his imposing stature and natural grimace, Cormag can be surprisingly easy to get along with. Earnest and honest, if somewhat hard headed, Cormag is the type who prefers ale and song to politics and trickery. Blunt, straightforward and to the point, Cormag is seemingly unable to lie, and is rarely afraid to speak his mind and tell things exactly as he sees it. Cormag possesses a seemingly limitless amount of patience- though the few to have seen his temper flare up have vowed to never witness it in their lives again. Not as simple minded as many believe his kind to be, Cormag is logical, with a very solid understanding of physics, and warfare, and a strict code of honor.

Cormag fights with a cold and calm efficiency, like a professional soldier. Cormag finds himself most at home sitting inside a suit of heavy steel, and either firing a heavy musket from a fixed position or methodically advancing with his musket before switching to poleaxe. A precise and durable marksman, Cormag has considerable staying power in a fight, and has surprising amounts of dexterity and deft despite his size. Cormag is no slouch in a melee either, be it using his with poleaxe, fists or fighting alongside his steel companion with sheer bulk.

Allies?

• The Ogrekin of the Nar Ir-Har.
• The Empire's Royal Guard.

Enemies?

• Commonfolk that fear Ogrekin.
• Old enemies from wars and battles past.
• Imperial secessionists who view the Nar Mat Kordh-Ishi as traitors.

Are they a part of an organization?

The Nar Ir-Har, formerly Nar Mat Kordh-Ishi, Imperial Auxiliaries who serve the Emperor alongside their smaller comrades.

Inventory

• Fusilaxe - A Ogre sized version of the dwarven hatchet flintlock, the Fusilaxe is a massive 10-foot long poleaxe with a blunderbuss barrel in line with the spike at the foot of the weapon. Loud, conspicuous, and the signature weapon of the Nar Ir-Har Auxiliaries.
• Pavise - An Ogre sized pavise shield, it is little more than a painted slab of wood. The edges are capped with steel, and the upper corner has a cutout for the Fusilaxe to be rested on.
• Half-Plate Armor - A breastplate, gauntlets, greaves and helmet over a thick gambeson. The helmet is traded for a beret when not in combat.
• Rucksack - A massive pack carrying supplies and ammunition
• Mobile Forge - 'Mobile' is an exaggeration, but a relatively portable set of tools and supplies- everything Cormag might need to set up a rudimentary forge.
• Gomie - A massive, mild mannered Ox that carries Cormag's gear when not in use- notably his mobile forge. Unsuited to fighting, but calm and difficult to startle.

---

Skills and Abilities:

Abilities:

• Runecrafting - Using his mobile forge and arcane runes, Cormag can enchant and enhance weapons and armor. His Fusilaxe is currently enchanted to launch bolts of lightning in place of ammunition.
• Healing Palm - Cormag places his hand on a wound, sealing and magically healing it with soothing heat.
• Steel Defender - A magical construct of steel and wood, in the shape of a war mastiff named Ferrus. Agreeable to pats.

Drawbacks:

• Runecrafting - Cormag is limited in the number of pieces of equipment he can enhance at any given time. Applying or removing enhancements require an adequate amount of time, as Cormag must set up his forge to apply them.
• Healing Palm - Healing must be applied by physical contact, and is limited in scope- it cannot heal massive damage such as missing limbs or severe illnesses (Like the plague).
• Steel Defender - Ferrus cannot heal from injuries naturally or with magic, and must be repaired via Cormag's forge.

Skills:

• Equipment Maintenance - A skilled craftsman, Cormag is capable of repairing, maintaining and creating equipment of all kinds given access to the right materials.
• Seasoned Campaigner - Cormag is used to long stretches of time away from civilized society, and can setup and maintain camps, and perform physical labor for long periods of time without tiring.
• Ogre's honor - It is widely thought that Ogres are unable to lie- either because they don't know how to or because of their innate nature. Their word is typically worth its weight in gold.

Vradia: Tales of the Chosen Few

Cormag Ruunsten

Cormag Ruunsten

---

Basic Information

---

Age:

Late 30s

Race:

Ogre

---

---

Detailed Appearance:

Large and hulking in size and stature, Cormag is hard not to notice. Standing in just under 8 feet in height, and weighing somewhere around the ballpark of 490 lbs, Cormag is built like a brick shit house of pure brawn and bone. Despite his stature, Cormag actually has a notably soft step and a surprising amount of deft for his size. His pale skin is hardened like leather, and his jet black hair is cut short, with a thick beard. His body is littered with a mosaic of scars, often interrupting the considerable amount of tattoo work done on his skin. Both arms are covered from wrist to shoulder in tattoos with motifs of mythical creatures of old, in the tradition of ogre shamans.

Class(es) (two max):

Battle Smith Artificer - Forge Cleric

Alignment:

Lawful Neutral

Likes:

• Honest work
• Mead, music and gold
• Loyalty and integrity
• Birds
• Well made craftsmanship of any sort

Dislikes:

• Liars
• Large bodies of water (He sinks like a rock)
• Bad omens
• Sitting (He often breaks furniture, which is embarrassing)

Backstory:

Cormag's biological parentage is unknown even to him, but his first memories were of the Ellezag Plains, in the ship sized wagons of an Ogrish nomad kingdom, in one of the few remaining nomadic Ogre war-tribes of Ellezag. His people were not unlike other Ogrish tribes- nomadic, warlike and traditionalist. The Ogrish tribe of the Nar Mat Kordh-Ishi were as much a military unit as they were clans and families. Newborns and younglings were provided all of the resources the clan had to offer, until they matured as adults at the age of 12. Afterwards, they were expected to provide 8 years of service to the Clan. After those 8 years, they were allowed to get married, leave, or stay on with the clan- which to little surprise, most stayed.

Cormag was no exception to these rules. As a child, he learned the values of his clan, a combination of martial prowess and discipline, alongside shamanistic teachings and spirituality. Cormag's education focused primarily on the creation of weapons and armor- as the eldest son of the tribe's craftsclan. For years, Cormag would study under the tutelage of his adoptive father Garbade Ruunsten, forging weapons, tools and whatever else the tribe needed.

As he reached adulthood, Cormag would join the ranks of the Nar Mat Kordh-Ishi and put those teachings into practice. The famed Nar Mat Kordh-Ishi made their way across Vradia- a brutally effective mercenary unit for hire, and would serve anyone with the resources to pay. Grudges were never held nor meted out, and they were never more brutal than they had to be- or were paid to be. Across their history, the Nar Mat-Kordh-Ishi had seen service with and against Imperial forces, and saw plenty of work with the city states of Regnad.

The Nar Mat Kordh-Ishi's work would eventually bring them into direct conflict with the Empire as they were hired alongside a small budding army of Secessionists bent on carving their own corner of the Empire. Like the stories of old, the Nar Mat Kordh-Ishi and the secessionists met the Imperial army on the open plains of Ellezag.

The ensuing battle was short, vicious, and laughably one-sided.

Despite their training and skill, their size and brutality, the Nar Mat Kordh-Ishi were crushed under the sheer numerical might of the Imperial army. Reduced from a proud clan of landships and warriors to a shadow of their former selves, with their once proud clan ships in burning tatters, the famed Nar Mat Kordh-Ishi were effectively no more.

Following their defeat, one particularly enterprising Imperial commander decided that instead of wiping ogres off the continent, showing the remaining Ogre tribes mercy might do better for the Empire than not. Thus began the decades long process of integrating the 'more civilized than average' Clan Ogres into imperial society. The integration process has been slow and is still within its infancy- and not without its own troubles. Humanfolk for the most part still distrust Ogres- and Ogres humans. For their part, Ogres have proven surprisingly industrious- their large size meant they excelled in construction and labor, but several of their number- such as Cormag, also made for surprisingly excellent craftsmen.

Cormag and his clan would eventually make their home in Volenstul- its large size and presence as a trade hub meant there was always plentiful work. Though their presence in the city remains tenuous at best, relegated mostly to the Harbor district, or otherwise kept out of sight. The vast majority of Clan ogres have slowly been integrated into the Imperial army as heavy shock infantry, the old clan resurfacing as the Nar Ir-Har, Imperial Auxiliaries. Others- like Cormag's father, found themselves in direct service to the Emperor, as a royal artisan.

Surprisingly, Cormag took well to the new adjustments, working regularly alongside the Royal Guard with increasing frequency as the Plague began to become more and more widespread. It is widely believed (though entirely unfounded) that Ogres are immune to the Plague on account of their robust physiology and immune system- this belief is entirely untrue, but many in the Empire still believe it, and as the Empire finds itself spread thin containing the plague, more and more of the Nar Ir-Har find themselves called to service on behalf of the Empire.

After returning to Volenstul after a season away, Cormag found that his father has gone missing- his workshop a mess and vandalized. With nothing but cryptic notes and burnt letters left, Cormag set off- to find his father, or what he left behind.

Personal Characteristics:

Despite his imposing stature and natural grimace, Cormag can be surprisingly easy to get along with. Earnest and honest, if somewhat hard headed, Cormag is the type who prefers ale and song to politics and trickery. Blunt, straightforward and to the point, Cormag is seemingly unable to lie, and is rarely afraid to speak his mind and tell things exactly as he sees it. Cormag possesses a seemingly limitless amount of patience- though the few to have seen his temper flare up have vowed to never witness it in their lives again. Not as simple minded as many believe his kind to be, Cormag is logical, with a very solid understanding of physics, and warfare, and a strict code of honor.

Cormag fights with a cold and calm efficiency, like a professional soldier. Cormag finds himself most at home sitting inside a suit of heavy steel, and either firing a heavy musket from a fixed position or methodically advancing with his musket before switching to poleaxe. A precise and durable marksman, Cormag has considerable staying power in a fight, and has surprising amounts of dexterity and deft despite his size. Cormag is no slouch in a melee either, be it using his with poleaxe, fists or fighting alongside his steel companion with sheer bulk.

Allies?

• The Ogrekin of the Nar Ir-Har.
• The Empire's Royal Guard.

Enemies?

• Commonfolk that fear Ogrekin.
• Old enemies from wars and battles past.
• Imperial secessionists who view the Nar Mat Kordh-Ishi as traitors.

Are they a part of an organization?

The Nar Ir-Har, formerly Nar Mat Kordh-Ishi, Imperial Auxiliaries who serve the Emperor alongside their smaller comrades.

Inventory

• Fusilaxe - A Ogre sized version of the dwarven hatchet flintlock, the Fusilaxe is a massive 10-foot long poleaxe with a blunderbuss barrel in line with the spike at the foot of the weapon. Loud, conspicuous, and the signature weapon of the Nar Ir-Har Auxiliaries.
• Pavise - An Ogre sized pavise shield, it is little more than a painted slab of wood. The edges are capped with steel, and the upper corner has a cutout for the Fusilaxe to be rested on.
• Half-Plate Armor - A breastplate, gauntlets, greaves and helmet over a thick gambeson. The helmet is traded for a beret when not in combat.
• Rucksack - A massive pack carrying supplies and ammunition
• Mobile Forge - 'Mobile' is an exaggeration, but a relatively portable set of tools and supplies- everything Cormag might need to set up a rudimentary forge.
• Gomie - A massive, mild mannered Ox that carries Cormag's gear when not in use- notably his mobile forge. Unsuited to fighting, but calm and difficult to startle.

---

Skills and Abilities:

Abilities:

• Runecrafting - Using his mobile forge and arcane runes, Cormag can enchant and enhance weapons and armor. His Fusilaxe is currently enchanted to launch bolts of lightning in place of ammunition.
• Searing Smite - Cormag imbues a weapon of choice in fire, enhancing its strikes.
• Steel Defender - A magical construct of steel and wood, in the shape of a war mastiff named Ferrus. Agreeable to pats.

Drawbacks:

• Runecrafting - Cormag is limited in the number of pieces of equipment he can enhance at any given time. Applying or removing enhancements require an adequate amount of time, as Cormag must set up his forge to apply them.
• Searing Smite - Can only applied to a single weapon at a time, and reduces in efficacy as time goes on, requiring reapplication (effectively once per battle).
• Steel Defender - Ferrus cannot heal from injuries naturally or with magic, and must be repaired via Cormag's forge.

Skills:

• Equipment Maintenance - A skilled craftsman, Cormag is capable of repairing, maintaining and creating equipment of all kinds given access to the right materials.
• Intimidation - Mostly on account of his massive stature and resting grimace, Cormag is naturally intimidating, which can be used to the party's advantage in certain social situations.
• Ogre's honor - It is widely thought that Ogres are unable to lie- either because they don't know how to or because of their innate nature. Their word is typically worth its weight in gold.

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Galahad Caradoc

---

Crystal shards in hand, the Kirins proceeded down into the depths where the Crystal of Water laid waiting- though not without resistance. The tight confines of an underground space like this was hardly to Galahad's liking- his weapon too large to properly swing, nor could he leap and move the way he liked, relegating him to mostly standing near the front of the formation to block the way to their less well armored members and thrust forward with the spearhead of his halberd. Galahad stepped aside as Miina's spell arced across the space bouncing and shocking all that it came in contact with. Galahad cursed- he needed more space.

Several of the Sahuagin's backs turned as they faced Rudolf, nets flying out of their hands as they attempted to throw them over the young warrior. Rearing an arm back, twisting the halberd in his hand, Galahad threw his weapon through the space, snagging and intercepting several nets in his weapon's arc as it disappeared into the darkness, only to fly back towards his hand a few moments later. Pulling the nets off of his halberd, Galahad tossed them at the several of the nearby sahuagin, using their own crude tactics against them to trip them up before lunging forward and stabbing at the back of another with his halberd.

The sahuagin had tactics, crude as they were, but they didn't really have the armor to deal with the heavy weapons of the Kirins, as evidenced by Galahad's heavy spearpoint driving through the lizard-man like a hot knife through butter. He'd try not to expend too much of his energy now- chances were they'd need it in the closer they got to the Crystal.

Falling Skies

Stand Down

Skogsrå, Gelcastre City Outskirts, LZ Delta_
101st Special Forces Legion. Local Time: 1310_

---

<< Gross. Hex just gave my Sparrowhawk an STD!>> Sabine complained over the squad comms as they skated back towards the rest of the squad, the staging area now a hub of activity as more and more MAS and transports began to touch down, clutches of infantry deploying from landing craft and additional Helldogs forming a perimeter around the area. The battle above and around them was far from over, and more than one landing craft careened through the air in flames, impacting the ground not far away. The sounds of cannonfire crackled in the distance like thunderbolts, underlined by the rapid staccato of small arms fire, and the chaotic noises of the city of Gelcastre itself was a dull din that filled the rest of the air.

The Helldogs sent wilcos and over-and-outs over to Vulture as several units of mechs began to stomp their way towards the city proper, making their way towards their own objectives, but the 7th weren't bound for the city- not yet. The 7th fell in with Vulture's Watchdog, and using the cover of the chaotic battle around them, stole away into the great forests outside of Gelcastre city. While not exactly megaflora, it was perhaps convenient to them that the planet of Skogsrå was known for its massive forests- literally massive, with trees thicker than the Secutor, and hundreds of feet tall, it was easy for a small squad of mechs to get lost in them. The battle further covered their tracks with scattered heat signatures and wide range jamming on both sides, though the 7th did relegate themselves to merely walking in their machines rather than flying or boosting along the ground.

It was two hours of steady marching through the woods before the 7th met up with their supply convoy, a small train consisting of a pair lightly armored supply transports, and a pair of trucks dragging mech trailers- doubling as repair bays along with them.

---

Skogsrå, Gelcastre Woods, 7th Supply Camp_
101st Special Forces Legion. Local Time: 1830_

---

It was another two hours of travel before they convoy found a relative 'safe' place, a clearing in the woods at the foot of a waterfall with a natural cove in the wall. Enough tree cover that they wouldn't be seen from above- with just enough space for their lighter MAS to fly up and out if they needed to scramble. The MAS were 'parked' crouching, and thermal blocking camo-netting was stretched over the mechs and camp, forming a small canopy. Within the hour, a small, but functional camp had been established, the trailers hidden within the cove, while the transports formed a psuedo wall for the camp itself. Supply officers and techs were quick to set up a supply tent- that doubled as a mess hall for what few personnel were present, and an operations tent was set up near the center of the camp. A few of the Roanoke's marines set up a perimeter and established a guard post at the nominal 'front' of the camp, though everything was kept underneath the camo netting and as low key as possible.

Breathing room. For a moment.

The Sparrowhawk and Blackout were the first ones loaded onto the trailers for repairs, and Sabine climbed out of the chest of the Sparrowhawk, pausing only to huck a pinecone at the opening Blackout's cockpit- aiming for dark head of hair belonging to its pilot. "How's it feel to get your ass saved by the Rook?" Sabine teased as she pulled her helmet off and stuck her tongue at the infantry veteran.

As the rest of the pilots disembarked from their machines, crew chiefs, along with a small unit of technicians poured out of the tents and transports to begin what servicing they could provide to the machines, given what limited tools they had on hand. The head of the techs waved Sagan down as he disembarked. "With all the damage and resupply needed, we should have you guys turned around and ready to work in 10 hours- It'd be faster if the lights didn't get banged up like they did. Tell your pilots to be more careful, eh? Its not like we have a machine shop out here."

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Galahad Caradoc

---

For all the trouble these paladins had caused them a week ago, they seemed dreadfully mortal now. For all their parading and notoriety amongst Drana as the best of their best, Galahad couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed in the lack of resistance. He caught a glance of Izayoi- a spinning whorl of death in their midst, and couldn't help but wonder if how he felt right now was how she felt when she cut down the famed Dragoons of Edren. At the end of the day, they were all just mortals- and being caught unaware could spell death for even the most powerful of men and women- that and a particularly sharp blade.

Galahad scarcely gave the paladins' backline a chance to breathe, cleaving through an archer with the halberd blade before spinning his weapon and driving the spike through a second. Along with the rest of the Kirins- and the Eidolons, it took little more before the Drana elites began to rout. Zacharias pled for mercy for the men, and the fact that he was standing alongside Cid could only mean that Esben was successful in his endeavors.

"What a waste." Galahad growled as he flicked his blade clean, letting paladins either flee or surrender themselves before him. "Isolde's word may remain embedded in their hearts, even after her death." he grunted, though he made no moves to slay more of them. With Isolde dead, and Alambert's status unknown- at least for the moment, the country would face no small amount of turmoil in the days to come. Zacharias would no doubt need what was left of the nation's paladins to keep order somehow.

Miina and Rudolf would meet up with the rest of the Kirins not long after, with Miina's report on Alambert, it meant that two third's of Drana's governing body had effectively disappeared in a single night. What was more concerning was the fact that Valheim were on their way- within mere hours, there would be airships. The Kirins had certainly picked one hell of a night to return to Brightlam.

"We may need more than just Elly's big gun and the handful of us if we're to stop an invasion." Galahad noted, "And we don't have Eve with us to explode the ships on sight... Though, if Cid were able to summon the Eidolons again, perhaps we might stand a chance."

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Galahad Caradoc

---

"They certainly know how to put on a show." Galahad murmured as they watched Isolde's paladins face off with both Zacharias' guards- and the two spirits of fire and lightning. It seems Ifrit and Ramuh were here to cause havoc as well. The paladins had been so single minded in their goals, they hadn't seen Galahad, Izayoi and Chisato making their way behind then.

"Isolde's paladins seem like true zealots." Galahad noted as he stood from their position and readied his halberd. "Wait for them to get entangled in combat first." he murmured as they watched the Paladins a bit more. The formation of knights before them were similar to that of the last time they faced off with them- a wall of shields and swords in the front, followed by halberds, then archers in the back. As soon as the paladins were fully engaged with Zacharius' guard and the eidolons, they'd be too focused on the battle to properly watch their rear- besides, who would be foolish enough to fight Drana's paladins in the heart of their capital? "We'll hit their most vulnerable units first, then make our way to the front."

"Now. Cut them down!" Galahad barked as he grabbed Izayoi and sprinted forward a few steps and planted his feet onto the ground. Dirt and cobble kicked up and broke as the armored Dragoon shot the two of them up into the air- the cloak he'd worn to somewhat hide his identity during their travel drifting to the ground. As he hit the crest of his jump, Galahad's eyes found the a large concentration of archer paladins facing off against Ramuh, halberd already crackling as his materia coated the blade in electricity.

His eyes caught a second, similar squad already laying arrows into Zacharius' guards. "Last time we faced these Paladins, they caught us at a disadvantage- I think we ought return the favor." Galahad said as he began their descent, pushing Izayoi off towards one group as he crashed down towards the other.

One of the paladins barking orders to the others found the weight of a halberd bearing Dragoon crashing into him. Steel plates cracked and crumpled The rear of the paladin's lines erupted with static and flying dirt as the armored Dragoon crashed into them. Steel sundered as the halberd tore through the paladin's armor, the sheer weight of the impact pinning the torso of the paladin to the ground.

Planting his feet against the fallen Paladin's back, Galahad pried his halberd from the armored corpse as his helmet scanned the shocked cluster of archer paladins around him. Wyrmfang flashed and cracked as he swung it in wide, circular arcs to make space and further disrupt their formation before he dove at his next target.

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Galahad Caradoc

---

"I'll take the fact that they're saying 'avenge Isolde' to mean that our little friend has taken it upon herself to handle Isolde how she saw fit." Galahad mused as they observed the marching paladins- a part of him was almost disappointed they wouldn't have their final confrontation with Isolde, it would certainly be more poetic, after their less than dignified retreat. Ah well, Galahad supposed it was easier this way- the paladins would lead them straight to Zacharias- and presumably Esben.

The last time they faced off with Isolde's paladins, they were exhausted and worn down from their fight with Leviathan. Now they were fresh, relatively speaking. Galahad debated their chances of taking on fifty knights between the two of them for a moment before dashing the idea. As much as he enjoyed the idea of potentially seeing just how powerful these paladins were... perhaps fifty to two were odds a bit *too* unbalanced out of their favor.

"The fact that none of their blades are bloodied probably means Chisato got away without incident." Galahad mused as he glanced towards the Cathedral. "If we can regroup with her, we can follow the Paladins to their destination, and strike them from behind."

Trying his best to keep the paladins out of eyesight, Galahad lifted his halberd, letting the light glint off his blade. Surely Chisato's sharp eyes would catch sight of them, or perhaps she had a bird's eye view and had already spotted them.

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Galahad Caradoc

---

Galahad glanced and blinked as the Valheim rank- a small bar of gold plated brass clattered on the floor. They were already here. They'd probably been here the whole time, even when the Kirins had first entered Drana. They were no doubt aware of our posters being spread throughout the city and took this as their chance to strike. Did Isolde have a part in this? Or any of the other Grovemasters for that matter? It probably mattered little in the end- it seemed that violence and turmoil would be gracing Brightlam one way or another.

"Well, that escalated quickly." Galahad noted humorlessly as Izayoi went for her gear. He turned and grabbed his pack as well, tossing Eliane hers. No more time for subtlety, it seemed. Esben would probably despair. Galahad's dragonhide was pulled over his clothes, metal clanking and glittering as he grabbed the blued steel of his armor and began to attach his plates to his body.

"We need a way of alerting the others- or pull them out of whatever trouble they may have found themselves in." Galahad cursed, "But I imagine the sounds of fighting might eventually draw their attention anyway."

Galahad glanced over at Rudolf, listening to his thoughts, but offering a wry frown as he shook his head.

"I understand the intention- but I'm not sure I agree. We ought split up. If the Grovemasters are in peril, it falls on us to rescue them- or if they're involved, to stop their plans. Furthermore, our party is already split- Esben, Chisato and Miina, they're all on their own right now- they might need the support." Galahad grunted as he hefted his halberd, spinning it in his hand. "Chisato," Galahad said as he glanced over at Izayoi, "She was tasked with Isolde- I imagine you'll go after her, right? I'll go with you."

Falling Skies

Reprieve

Skogsrå, Gelcastre City Outskirts, LZ Delta_
101st Special Forces Legion. Local Time: 1300_

---

<<Hon hon hon fucknuts, here comes the cavalry!>> Sabine blared over her external comms as the Sparrowhawk raced with the Venator towards Hex and the Skollrs. The Sparrowhawk overtook the Venator as it juked off to the side to dodge fire, Sabine boosting in the other direction to stay out of target. Bright red warnings were painting her face with their glow as her onboard systems begged her not to overheat her cannon. She muted the warnings, but gave her weapons system a rest anyway as she stopped firing, just long enough to take the hilt of the Sparrohawk's beam saber and slot it into the rifle's bayonet lug. Sabine whooped as she took her machine into a spin, still maintaining forward momentum as it scooped the burnt remains of half a car off the ground and hucked it at the Skollr firing at them.

The car itself didn't do any significant amount of damage to the Skollr, but knocked it off balance- just enough to make it stop shooting, just enough for Sabine to zip in towards the disarmed (literally) Skollr and steal Hex's kill. Sparrowhawk's beam saber flared to life, the barrel of the plasma rifle jamming itself into the Skollr's armless torso, beam saber melting through plating even as Sabine pulled the trigger- the point blank blast of plasma carving straight through the melted armor plating and vaporizing the cockpit- and anything inside.

By the time the second Skollr had righted itself, it found the Venator too close to easily fire upon it, and instead tried to use its heavy cannon like a club to bludgeon the Venator away.

As the elite Skollrs crumble, that seems to be enough to fully break the remaining spirits of the sparse resistance that was trying to hold back Rhino and the Helldogs. The remaining Fenrirs and Garmrs fully break away and begin to pull out- what few remained able to move anyway. To Rhino's right, a Fenrir with a heavily damaged leg and torso drops its weapon, and lifts its arms up into the air, the cockpit opening a moment later- the pilot inside stepping out and mimicking the surrender as well.

The Helldogs whoop over their comms, one of the Sentries- the damaged one- pausing long enough to offer the Secutor a mech-sized fist bump. <<You 101st guys are fucking crazy.>> Came the distorted comm, one of the hits must have rocked his communications equipment, <<We ever see each other after this, I owe yall a beer.>>

---

Kilmer heard the comm click, something akin to a Tsk! as his beam saber came down. The Jaeger was fast- blindingly so, but it was clearly not expecting the Shrike to survive its initial strike. Too reliant on technology, too unprepared for a melee duel, or perhaps some combination of the two, the Jaeger brought its blade up in time to stop Kilmer's bream saber from cutting through the cockpit. The Shrike's beam saber deflected off the edge of the coalition saber, skating down the edge and melting the manipulator before sheering it off, the green blade of plasma flipping in wild circles as it fell to the ground- woe be to whoever was unfortunate enough to be standing under it when it hit.

The following kick sent the Jaeger tumbling through the sky for a second before the pilot caught himself and righted his flight. A moment later, Sagan's Watchdog registered a lock on, the Jaeger began to jerk instinctively, attempting to shake off any possible incoming munitions.

<<Another time the, you dog.>> came the clipped growl of the Jaeger pilot, <<I'll be keeping my eye out.>>

With that, the Jaeger began to boost away, dropping flares and chaff as it made its not so noble retreat from the battle space.

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Galahad Caradoc

---

"I think this will do for now." Galahad grumbled as he set his wrapped halberd against the far wall of the hovel, out of sight. His pack hit the ground with a heavy, metallic clunk. Honestly, he felt naked without his weapon or armor, but heavy cloak or not- the angular shape of dragoon armor was... distinctive, so it was decided it'd be best if he wasn't wearing it when he didn't have to. Didn't mean he had to like it.

"If we're lucky, we shouldn't have to worry about guards coming around an old place like this." He murmured, "But we should still keep at least one of us here at any given moment to make sure we can keep a lookout for the others- and an eye on our stuff." Galahad remembered the highwaymen that attempted jumping himself, Robin and Rudolf. Drana Asnaeu was no stranger to scoundrels looking for a quick payday- and an unattended hovel of weapons and armor was a waiting treasure trove for folk like that.

"I'll take the first watch." Galahad noted as Rudolf and Izayoi dropped off any unnecessary gear down as well. "We should keep our presence as light as possible. Check things out for a few hours, then come back and switch with me."