VitaVitaAR

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

At a moment like this, I wish I'd been able to arrive somewhat earlier. While I'd been briefed mostly on what to expect, having a better grasp of the details of the situation would allow me prepare accordingly.

Unfortunately, all I have is the explanations by the others, and those sketches. Certainly, working on such information is not out of the realm of my experience as a shinobi, but it's not as if more information would be unfavorable.

And as for the sketches---

"... They were adequate."

Why did they even assign Sagramore-san to do that?

"For an Edreni's work."

Indeed, they had given me most of the details I required in order to recognize the Grovemaster in question. From what I had heard of her actions, she appeared to be a remarkably frustrating person who could not set aside pointless grievances for the sake of her nation's future.

Such people had died at my hands more than once. This would be no different, if it came down to it.

"Infiltration work is best left to those who are versed in such matters," I continue, "And none of our potential foes are familiar with me."

With that being said, I'm not certain what sort of identity could be constructed to justify the level of access I would need to perform a proper infiltration. I am quite clearly a foreigner, and while that is not always an obstacle it feels as if it would likely be one in this situation.

What explanation would I have for allowing me to get close?

"---Regardless, I agree that suddenly deciding to offer Cid-dono up as a prisoner would come across as highly suspicious. Only someone utterly brainless would accept it unquestioningly."

While our opponent did appear to be an idiot, it was unlikely she was the sort of idiot would would fall for such a plan, based on what I understood of her behavior.

Quite frankly, I think killing her the moment we are given the chance is likely the right choice. Even if she were to surrender, her irrationality in the face of the threats posed to her people---

Perhaps idiot is too kind of a word for someone like her.

Another Life in a Fantasy World (Invite Only)

---

Witch's Household

---

The fairies were quite eager to try the milkshake, having never seen anything like it before, and quickly began trying to sip down as much as possible. The moment they realized that it was entirely unique to them, they were soon both drinking as much as they could as swiftly as they could.

At least until they had their first case of brain freeze.

Ilsa continued to watch with suspicion, until the food was completed and ready to be served.

At the very least, she sat down with it, took a knife, and cut into the wellington, eyeing it for a few moments before finally taking a bite, and---

"... Hmph."

Ilsa averted her eyes, her cheeks faintly coloring.

"If you're going to do something bizarre with magic you claim you don't understand, at least it tastes good," she commented, still looking away as she spoke. It was almost as if she was annoyed by just how good the food was, even as she immediately cut into it once again for another bite.

"Aww, don't be too cranky, Ilsa dear~" Relki declared cheerfully as she sat down for her own meal, "Our guests made us food! That's more than you can say for some of the others, isn't it?"

The petite green-haired witch shot a look towards the raven familiar between bites.

"Our other guests don't usually wield high-level magic and pretend not to know how they learned it, but fine. I won't question it. For now."

The fairies, who had by now figured out that drinking too fast was what was causing their heads to hurt, were now staring at the various guests.

It was, not unexpectedly, the pink one who spoke first.

"What is it made with? You can drink it but it's thick and creamy and cold!" she began, excitedly, "Can we make more? I've never seen anything like it even in the fae realm!"

The blue-haired fairy, who was still hiding slightly behind her friend, nodded slowly.

@FujiwaraPhoenix@Raineh Daze@Pyromania99

Blades of Iron Roses: An Anime-Inspired Knight RP

The Bloody Lord's answer to Dame Tyaethe's taunt was obvious.

There was a shriek like hundreds had died at once.

Lord Rozenalt's blade fell.

The wave of black and red light that tore through the night air was like a writhing mass of twisting worms, curling around one another. They chewed through the Knight of the Hunt's bronze armor and destroyed whatever being was inside, scorching the soil and grass as it passed over them and tearing towards the edge of the clearing, toppling a tree before fading out into nothingness.

But it hadn't worked as he planned.

The vampire paladin was already upon him. An angry roar left Rozenalt's lipless skull as his blade clashed with Dame Tyaethe', the resounding impact ringing out over the battlefield, the shapes of the spectral corpses clinging to his sword wavering.

"How can you possibly claim victory this time?!" he spat, voice sounding as if it was reverberating against the interior of his chestplate, "I'll crush you! I'll crush all---"

The Bloody Lord paused.

Something had struck him. It had slipped into a gap in his armor and struck him from above.

The bolt from a crossbow.

The bolt, still visible, started to shift. Something inside of Rozenalt's armor was moving, twisting around it. With a snap, it broke the bolt in half.

Whatever was within the Leader of the Midnight Hunt's armor, it didn't resemble a living human.

But the distraction had allowed Tyaethe's attack to force the enraged Rozenalt to step back, to give up ground just a little.

The vein-like structures that composed his cape started to move. From behind, it was possible to see that they seemed to emerge from within his armor.

They stretched and lurched upwards, writhing, thorny red tendrils tearing through the sky and shredding the air, haphazardly attempting to reach the broomstick-riding pair. The monstrous lord couldn't spare further attention to them, fending off Dame Tyaethe's assault as he was, but he didn't let the bolt go unanswered.

The vulture-hags numbers had thinned considerably due to Gertrude and Sir Rolan's efforts and the mysterious flurry of arrows from below, but it was difficult to tell how long that would last.

Indeed, more and more twisted hunters were emerging from the forest, monstrous creatures with unnatural forms. Long-legged, multi-armed, crawling monstrosities with dark, hanging hair, faceless giants with razor-toothed maws, and---

A spear pierced one of the imps.

Black arrows struck down the grinning men and several knights of the Hunt.

Normally, nithyr were not an uncommon sight among the Midnight Hunt's numbers. But perhaps it was notable that they were no-where to be found---

Until now.

Their blue eyes lumiscent in the dark, black-skinned forms of the notoriously capricious unseelie fae had emerged from the forest, brandishing bows, spears, and daggers. Their petite bodies were hidden by simple cloth and fur, or by nothing at all, as they joined the battle against the Midnight Hunt, skewering hunters and feathering them with arrows.

"Hello there!" cried one of the nithyr, an antler-bearing headband, a fur cape, and a simple loincloth standing as her only clothing, cheerily waving towards the knights, "We don't like him either!"

For once, their presence was not unwelcome.

---They were not the only new arrivals.

Across the clearing, where the forest had seemed to move as if something huge had been approaching, a dark shape emerged from the forest. A writhing, worm-like thing, hundreds of wings lining its segmented body, took to the skin. Its gaping maw was nothing but a void, toothless and large enough to swallow ten men, as it threw itself through the air towards Gertrude and Rolan.

@Raineh Daze@Octo@Eisenhorn

---

Forward and forward Renar came – right into the thickly-covered ground between himself and the trapper. Right where there couldn't have possibly been anything prepared, the ground firm and sturdy just before… but just as undeniably, where there had been solid earth, now there was a pit. Not too deep to climb out of, but an impediment nonetheless. Worse, the earth itself was seeping pitch, black and sticky—

And the trapper was now looming, now seeming too unconcerned at the knife sticking incongruously out of a gap in its armour. In its off hand it no longer held a length of rope, just an unlit torch – correction, a lit torch. One it was all too quick to throw in with Renar to try and ignite the mixture.

@Psyker Landshark

---

Fionn's words garnered an odd… chittering sound from the beaked creature. It might take a moment to realise that this was, perhaps, an attempt at laughter from a throat entirely incapable of it. In a grapple like this, its strangely twisted physique was even more apparent, the inherent inhumanity of the Falconer shining through, and not entirely to its advantage. It was strong, stronger than it had any right to be – but there was also so little weight to it.

Something that might be entirely necessary, the gleaming edges of the gauntleted hand a constant threat even if its main blade was pinned. It wasn't trying to use raking cuts; it wanted to turn the grapple into an amputation.

@The Otter

---

The Houndmaster burbled. It hadn't even tried to dodge, so committed to its attack. But even with its throat pouring blood, it stood straight without concern, the circling hounds only now committing to an attack. One passed too close to its master, and the axe found a new home, tearing through the man-beast without the slightest bit of concern.

It was undeniable; the blood was healing it, warping it. The burble turned to something between a throaty growl and a chuckle, the leather ripped and tore as the muscles beneath it swelled and warped – from something almost human, to something distinctly not, hulking and dark furred and almost as much of a beast as its own hounds.

But still of a mind enough to swing its axe, large enough and strong enough now that it only took one hand, the other free as it pounced to try and grab Fleuri, to grind him into the dirt.

---But she wouldn't let it!

Throwing herself forward, Fanilly swung her blade downwards, the glittering edge cleaving through the knight and burying itself in the monstrous hunter's free arm. It bit through flesh and bone, severing the limb entirely and leaving it pouring dark ichor on the grass. For the moment, the man-faced hounds and been disrupted, so she'd taken her opportunity to strike!

"I'm here to help, Sir Fleuri!" she declared. This---

This certainly wasn't the fae or spirit she'd seen at the opening of their clash, any longer. Its form had grown larger, more muscular, more hairy, as if it was becoming more akin to the man-faced hounds that were under its control. But she couldn't let that worry her.

They'd fight the hunt and overcome it. They had to!

@Crimson Paladin

---

It was difficult to see the strange weapon moving, but it was clear it had.

This time, she'd had no choice, given her need to defend herself. The unseelie lady's arm snapped into position in the blink of an eye, intercepting Sir Gerard's swing towards her head.

Her thin arm visibly jolted from the impact. Her face, at this range just slightly visible behind the veil, seemed as if it may have shown momentary discomfort, a barely-audible, soft sound leaving her lips.

It was clear her strength did not vastly exceed the expectations placed by her physical appearance. Perhaps that was why she almost seemed to allow to the blow to push her back, gently drifting over the grass as her bare feet left the ground.

Her lacking physical strength made it clear that she was not an opponent who wanted to remain locked up for very long. But it appeared she was mobile enough to escape such situations as well.

For now.

A barely perceptible flick of her wrist.

The world split once again.

@HereComesTheSnow

Another Life in a Fantasy World (Invite Only)

---

The Church

---

---It's not chasing any longer.

We've entered a church, and the large undead isn't following us anymore.

My heart's still beating so fast it feels like it might explode. My legs are a little shaky. My hands are gripping onto my staff so tightly, my knuckles have turned white.

But it's not following anymore.

I suck in a deep breath and shut my eyes. There's no time to just sit and relax, as much as I'd like to. No, what's most important is trying to figure out our situation as quickly as possible.

We've entered a western-style church. It's not surprising given the architecture of the rest of the town, but I doubt it's for anything resembling the Christian God. This is an entirely different world, after all. If there's elves, things are probably different here.

It looks like there might have been fighting. There's some damage to the pews, but no blood. I'm not sure what that means.

Putting that aside, there's not a single undead here. Does that mean that there's some sort of divine protection on the building? Or is there something else at play? Regardless, not only did it make the large undead lose us but it's clearly kept the rest of them out too, as well as whatever else might be lurking in this ruined town.

"... I... I think we might be safe here, now," I comment, casting my gaze over the entire hall once again. There's definitely no signs of undead being here, so I think my conclusion must be correct.

Which means, for now, we might be able to take a breather---

"... What's that?"

The entire altar is off. Just a bit. I can't miss it. Those things would normally be in one place, wouldn't they? Am I mistaken?

@FujiwaraPhoenix@Rune_Alchemist@Crimson Paladin

The Elder Scrolls IV: Cyrodiil

---Carrying the corpse all the way back is grim, but I suppose it's not as bad as the alternatives. Otherwise, we'd probably have had to carry the necromancer's head back.

No matter how terrible she may have been, it's still a little hard for me to imagine doing something like that.

...

It's kind of stunning. I'm not sure I ever held ten septims before. It's not like I was being allowed to carry around very much money prior to my arrest.

Is this really what I can get? It wasn't as if it wasn't dangerous, far from it, but---

Ten septims is incredible. If I can earn that much for helping people, for taking down dangerous criminals or monsters or undead, then why not? Isn't it better for everyone? Isn't it for the best?

---Ah.

The memory of the duty ahead of me resurfaces in my mind, and I take a deep breath. I can't let myself get distracted, not when I've been entrusted with something so deeply important to the future of the Empire.

---But I can't really lie either.

"I... it's amazing," I respond, "I can help people in need, and then be rewarded for it? It's dangerous, but... er..."

I trail off. I must sound like a child enamored with the legends of knights and adventurers right now.

Another Life in a Fantasy World (Invite Only)

---

Witch's Household

---

Ilsa narrowed her eyes. It was abundantly clear she did not particularly take to believing the excuse she had been offered, barely existent as it was. In her eyes, an ability as complex as the construction of a closed space was impossible to do simply by accident, and thus there was far less of a justification for the situation that the trio of guests had found themselves stuck in when she initially arrived.

She cast her gaze around the various strange devices once more. Most of them were objects she simply had no understanding of. Of course, she had heard of automata, but those didn't particularly resemble these odd appliances. It was obvious they were somehow part of the closed space, at the very least.

"Is that so," she said, flatly, "You don't know what's going on? Of course. Obviously."

She folded her arms across her chest.

"It's so very common for someone to just accidentally create a complex closed space filled with objects I've never seen before. People do it all the time."

The sarcasm dripped from her voice like water from a melting icicle, practically puddling on the floor beneath her. It was quite obvious she wanted a better explanation.

But, perhaps the food would at least help make her more willing to believe one.

The fairies immediately seemed disappointed when they were robbed of their new toy, but after a moment the pink-haired fairy spoke up.

"A sweet drink? Is it like nectar? I like nectar, but harvesting it is so annoying and you don't even get much... Is there a lot of it?!"

The blue-haired fairy had retreated behind her bolder companion, but she was at the very least listening.

Meanwhile, Relki smiled brightly at Jor's newest question.

"Of course! It's Loryne, I accompany Ilsa there all the time when she needs to go shopping, or if she has a job to do," the raven woman replied, "I don't have a map, though... there might be one in the library?"

She looked thoughtful for a few moments.

"Since I can fly, I've never really bothered to use one, since the local area is pretty easy to figure out from above. But if there's one around here, I think it really would have to be in the library."

@FujiwaraPhoenix@Pyromania99@Raineh Daze

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

It worked.

Not cleanly, but our efforts haven't been in vain. The monster's armor has cracked. A gap has been opened. Not a perfect gap, but a gap nonetheless through which we can strike.

It is that which I center on immediately. The shouted order from Mathiassen-san is only a confirmation of the course of action I must take.

From here, it won't be easy to reach it with my blade. Certainly, it may not be impossible, but to rely on such a chance would be foolish. And my kunai simply won't do enough damage to secure victory as swiftly as possible.

Therefore, there is truthfully only one option left.

I skid backwards across the ground as I put distance between myself and our foe, my left hand reaching into the pouch on my hip. I have the space now, and a clear target.

All I have to do is aim and throw.

The black shape of the explosive is exposed to the air for only a moment, magical energy surging, directed by my materia to set the wick ablaze.

I step back and raise my arm back. My heart stills.

I can't miss this shot, after all.

I hurl the bomb towards my target, and---

Blades of Iron Roses: An Anime-Inspired Knight RP

The Knights of the Hunt. The grinning men. The twisted imps.

Moments ago, Fanilly and a few of the other knights had been in their midst, but now their enemies stood as crystalline statues.

It was a further moment of respite. Fanilly could move more freely again. And the one who had offered this assistance---

"Thank you, Lady Gertrude!"

Over the din of battle, it wasn't necessarily certain she would be heard, but she would offer her thanks as best she could nonetheless. Now she had a further moment to breath, direct her knights, and See that she put her own skills to their best use.

"Sir Heyverd, take your men and suppress the Siheyar emerging from the left flank," she ordered, casting her eyes towards the tall, poleaxe-wielding knight. He was of an easygoing, but reliable nature, and no small amount of skill. She'd noticed the tall, blackened figures of the Midnight Men arriving to join the Hunt, and could not allow them to disrupt Dame Tyaethe's duel or any of the other clashes. Besides, the child-snatching terrors deserved the blade of justice, and this was their best opportunity to see to it.

"Dame Alisaie---"

Of the knights, Alisaie was an odd sort. She almost seemed like a ghost, barely present and ethereal, her white armor matching her pale skin and grey hair. She was rumored to carry fae blood, and at the very least was among the knights of the order capable of magic herself. It was only fitting that she was among their numbers today when considered in that light.

"---The Knights of the Hunt are regrouping. Take Sir Urgoven and disrupt their formation!"

The darker-skinned knight, child of an Asheraadi diplomat and a noble of Thaln and a highly capable defender with a hotblooded nature, raised his sword and shield and joined Dame Alisaie as the knights broke off to pursue their orders.

Her heart wouldn't stop pounding. They were beset by nightmares from all around. And yet, and yet---

Dame Lilette's words. The training in that world apart from this one. She had to have faith in them, and in her knights. They had to beat the Midnight Hunt!

And to that end, she'd fight as hard a she could. She had to, for that was the role of Knight-Captain.

Blade glittering in the light of the moon, of hurtling magic cast over the battlefield, Fanilly made her choice. Of her knights, it was Sir Fleuri who was beset by the most number of foes!

Meanwhile, in the air, the vulture crones shrieked, their hideous voices ripping through the knight sky like razors as they tried to evade the black smoke, disrupting their approach. They had largely split into two separate flocks, the malice on their haggard faces only growing as they were forced to evade the black smoke, making them easier targets for Lady Gertrude's spells and Sir Rolan's bolts.

Indeed, several let out a final screech as their bodies were torn apart by the brilliant light of Astral Lance.

But more still rose from the forest, ascending to join the others in an attempt to swarm the mage and the knight. And the---

Fell?

Indeed, no small number of the new flock of crones was falling, screaming, from the sky, as black arrows from the forest struck them, piercing their twisted bodies from below.

Someone from the forest was assisting the knights? But who?

Solace would be difficult to take, however, when the treeline to the north suddenly shifted, rustling. Something enormous was about to emerge...

@Octo@Eisenhorn

---

Were it anyone else, a single nick from the blasphemous, cursed blade could have spelled doom. The grasping phantoms would tear wounds larger, invade them, curse them---

But such low-level attempts at possession would find it far harder to find purchase in one of the clergy. And the tattered edges of the wounds would mend just as swiftly due to Dame Tyaethe's nature as a vampire.

It was something that the Bloody Lord was well aware of.

"Arrogant? Arrogance is your presumption of victory, vampire!"

Red tendrils, almost like thorny vines, emerged from beneath Rozenalt's armor, a flurry of them hurtling forth. While Dame Tyaethe could certainly heal, a shredded limb could make it more difficult for her to keep on the pressure. Regardless, as the tendrils filled the space between them for a moment, the Bloody Lord leapt back, raising his sword above his head.

The faint cries of pain from the spirits bound from it were growing louder and more desperate, screams of horror and fear as a current of red-black light began to swirl upwards and around the heretical weapon.

"The pain I sew as the Leader of this Midnight Hunt is only a fraction of the joyous vengeance I will one day wreak upon this land! I won't have that future taken from me!"

@Raineh Daze

---

The spectral falcon seemed to take some effort to reform from its cleaving as the falconer regarded Fionn, its head at a curious tilt. Whatever alien thoughts passed through its head judged Fionn as worthy, or perhaps necessary, to engage; the avian knight shrugged back the cloak of feathers to reveal its thus-far hidden weapons: in one hand, a serviceable rapier, and in the other… a plethora of knives? No; a gauntleted claw, its long talons each a heavy blade.

Without the element of surprise, it seemed the falconer was instead relying on speed and, unexpectedly, fencing technique as it thrust forwards.

@The Otter

---

The trapper caught the end of the polearm easily, despite the clunkiness of doing so with a beartrap, and seemed entirely content to leave the trap affixed to the end of the weapon as an attempt at destabilisation. But despite its silence, the blinding powder seemed to have some effect on the eerie creature – rather than attack with the short dagger slipped out from somewhere on its armour, it instead slipped backwards with an uneasy gate, the lingering embers flaring up protectively. The gap between it and Renar grew darker by the moment, a thick carpet of leaves blowing in from the surrounding woods.

@Psyker Landshark

---

The Houndmaster scarcely seemed to care as its Hounds were cut down, even as its axe was deflected – it simply spun the weapon around to cleave through the beasts in an almost exaggerated-seeming spray of blood, continuing to slam down on Fleuri with a staggering amount of force. Of course, there were only seconds before it seemed to have yet more to call on; another pattern of whistles betrayed the fae huntsman's call…

Yet, there was no immediate attack. Oh, they were visible out of the corner of Fleuri's eyes, but they seemed to be waiting.

@Crimson Paladin

---

While her features were obscured, at the very least the Pale Lady's response to Sir Gerard's declaration did not appear to be a negative one. The edged, spike weapon in her hand gleamed lightly as it would almost be possible to feel her unseen gaze traveling over his appearance. Perhaps it was simple analysis, the frail-looking unseelie fae doing everything she could to understand what her opponent was capable of before the fight even began.

Or perhaps, as was equally likely, she was merely curious.

Regardless, she appeared to have some level of interest in a fair, one-on-one clash, given she not only slew the interloper but allowed the knight to ready himself. Perhaps his willingness to accept the challenge had mattered, rather then attempting to flee?

Without words or even expressions, it was difficult to guess. But certainly, there seemed to be a chill on the air that wasn't present, and then---

A flick of the wrist.

It was visible, but only barely. The disturbance of the air could be felt, too, but more then that there was something even stranger.

For the briefest of moments, it appeared the view of the world before the knight was split, one half unaligned from the other.

It was quite obvious what would happen if he failed to answer her attack.

@HereComesTheSnow

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

---

Truthfully, is this necessary?

The scent of the air burning and the ringing echo in my ears, the tingling flowing across my skin from the narrow miss of the lightning strike---

I'd only just managed to dodge.

Is it truly necessary to give us such a test?

Really?

I press my lips together as my feet hit the ground, adjusting my grip on my katana as my eyes fix on the next opponent. Large. Armored. It looks like steel.

It'll be difficult to strike anything vital with such a big target. My supplies---

I can't get that right now, and it would be far too difficult to set it up in time to take a shot.

---The Edren men are taking initiative at least. I suppose I can't complain about that.

I suck in a deep breath. My best chance at doing any sort of harm, even minor, is to aim for any of the gaps in the armor, or if I can pinpoint them the eyes. Blinding the enemy and injuring them at the same time would be one of the best ways to open them up for further damage, but they're hardly an easy target.

---Mathiassen-san has the right idea. I'd been coming to a similar conclusion myself already.

We'll approach from multiple angles, keep his focus from centering on any one of us, and wear him down so that greater damage can be done to end this unnecessary fight all the more swiftly.

I lean forward, my free hand reaching into my bag---

And the green world blurs as I move. My kunai may or may not slip through the gaps, but the mere possibility of them doing so would at least draw some attention.

With a flick of my wrist I release one, then two, then three, their black points piercing the air as they hurtle towards the draconic monster.

The fourth, however---

Sagramore is too close for me to use one of the bombs, but that doesn't mean I can't do something like this.

Heat flows from my fingers and over the edge of the black blade. Build it. Build it. Build it. Build it. Until the edge is white hot, until the air is sizzling, until that heat has become compressed into a miniaturized firestorm within my kunai.

---And release.

It hurtles towards the armored monster's flank, promising to release a concentrated burst of flame on impact! Even if it doesn't do much damage, the impact can't just be ignored!

Another Life in a Fantasy World (Invite Only)

Back Alley

Getting out of the ruined inn and into the open air is better in some ways, but worse in others.

And that---

I can feel my heart beating so fast it's practically promising to tear its way free of my chest.

Through the gaps in its dull armor, it's easy enough to tell that it's putrid. The odor from its rotten body, closed off from the elements by its armor, is disgusting even from this distance.

---Ah, what is this, some kind of survival horror game? It's even dragging that big sword on the ground!

I don't need Javal-san to tell me to start running. He's not heavily armed enough to take it on without more preparation, that's for sure. It's huge, there's no way that's normal!

If only I knew how to cast a spell, I can't be dressed up like this and wielding a staff like this just because, not in this sort of world!

I clench my teeth tightly.

All I can do right now is run.

@Crimson Paladin@Rune_Alchemist