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Post by Nayru Al-Saiduq on Sept 7, 2019 13:46:09 GMT -6
Members: Nayru, Donovan, Vincent, Reed Gracie
Somewhere in northern Pherae...
OK, so MAYBE picking up the quest and just leaving before anyone else showed up was kind of a dick move in retrospect. In her defense, everyone she knew was either dead, off gallivanting to parts unknown, or just generally missing in action, and rather than drag innocent people into a potential battlefield it had seemed like a good idea at the time to just head out and take care of it before anyone else could get hurt. Fewer questions about why she didn't have to sleep for a few days on end, for one, and if this supposed infestation really was that bad it gave her more options to, ah, deal with it without the potential for witnesses.
Nayru definitely didn't regret transforming to save Gar and Mila - even if she didn't get on well with the mage, even if transforming so close to Etruria did end up haunting her, it would have been a betrayal of her closest-held ideals to simply leave them to die because it was inconvenient. But ah... it also wasn't something she wanted to repeat on a regular basis. People might start getting suspicious if random thunderstorms just happened to keep spawning everywhere she went. And suspicious people tended to do things like the Scouring. She was trying to form a link between dragons and humans, not kickstart another war.
...Still, it was odd that she really hadn't seen any undead yet. This was definitely the area. The village that she was supposed to investigate was pretty close too, a hill or two away if she had followed the directions correctly. Not that she could really see that far in this fairly heavily forested terrain. But no people, either. And no birds. No wildlife. It was like everyone had just up and left one day. But you didn't have to be a genius, or a dragon, or a time traveler to know that when the wildlife went silent, something was wrong. And she could sense the faintest scents of something all too familiar - something like the stench from those ruined archives on Vinland. It wasn't that strong, yet, but there was the stench of the Nether around this place.
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Reed
Squire
"If some feller gives me a lance, I'm'ma fight tooth 'n nail for what I reckon is right."
Posts: 79
Profession: Farmhand
Affiliation: None
Guild: None
Affinity: Light
Profile: Reed
OoC Alias: Ardent
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Post by Reed on Sept 7, 2019 14:53:44 GMT -6
Normally, the sound of silence in an area known to be monster-infested would lead to a scene of a brave, gallant adventurer slowly making their way through the area with a hand over their weapon, eyes alert and scanning their surroundings for any threats. The warrior would have their hair and any cloaks or capes they wear flowing in the wind, and their chiseled, battle-worn face would squint from the sight of a stranger in the area. A true warrior would then approach with even more caution, steeling themselves for a fight should they have to while praying that they had found a temporary ally for their mission to purge the unholy scourges that plague the region...
...Well, that would be what a competent and experienced warrior would do. Instead, Reed was clinging to Gracie's neck for dear life while constantly muttering that this was a bad idea as his horse happily trotted ahead. The poor squire was trembling so bad that the small water canteen at his side rung against a metal hook attached to the back of his saddle. Miraculously, the phrase "I wanna go home" got old after the first few minutes of traveling. In fact, the steed moved along at such a steady pace that not even any early reining from the Arkyan changed her course. Gracie was an odd one like that: sometimes was the absolute best partner to have where she would follow directions as if she was one and the same with her master, and other times it was like she had a mind of her own. Unfortunately, as of late the latter started to come out a lot more. She followed the path to the meeting spot as if it were a scent trail from a freshly baked pie on a windowsill.
"Y-Ya know, Gracie, I know Pa said we gotta do somethin' like this, b-but maybe it doesn't have to be so soon! Eh heh... L-Let's just go on 'n get 'fore we get ourselves into a mighty troublin' fix, yeah?" the rider once again begged with a futile tug of the reins. Gracie did slow down, yes... But not quite to turn around. The beast had spotted something ahead. She snorted to get the attention of the boy, and when he looked up, a panicked groan escaped his mouth as he fumbled with the Regal Halberd until it was drawn and ready. "Gah! Uh... H-Hey! You there! Whatcha doin' 'round here?" he called out to the stranger. Interestingly enough, Reed hadn't even bothered to check who he would be working with for the quest he had picked up. The burst of bravado and idealism had long faded, and when it did he hadn't the slightest clue what he was doing. Didn't know who was going, didn't know what the heck he would be up against, absolutely jack-squat. Easy, right?
The figure didn't appear to be dangerous, at least. Although his mind filled with panic, it wouldn't do to simply shout from afar and wake up whatever beasts were sleeping nearby. He gave a soft yet solid tap to Gracie's side with his boots, prompting her to walk forward once again. "Shoot... You, uh, don't happen to be one-a them warriors joinin' in on that quest here in 'Fare'... 'Fair-a'... 'Fee-ray'?"
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Post by Donovan on Sept 8, 2019 0:02:20 GMT -6
The quiet in these woods rang louder than a bell in Donovan’s ears. It was all too familiar. The ominous quiet. It almost warmed his heart how much it made him feel like he was home. He made his way slowly down the path with his hand nonchalantly holding the hilt of the ancient blade. The wind buffeted his every step as though it were playing with his wild, curly hair - his favorite cloak whirling dramatically out behind him. He found himself chortling impishly at the predictability of it all - what an old song this was. Overplayed he thought - especially in the sort of tales he loved growing up.
“I’m not going to fall prey to that ancient tune, Stor -” He stopped short as his eyes squinted at a figure in the distance. His battleworn face (lit well enough by the sun through the canopy of leaves, that /some/ might say it looked chiseled, brooding even) held a tension the sort one would only see on individuals accustomed to seeing the dead walking around killing people on the road.
He should approach cautiously, steel himself for a fight should this person turn out to be a foe. Hope beyond hope that he was an ally in the quest that brought him to this gods forsaken place. But upon seeing the stranger move with the smooth and simple motions the dead are incapable of making, he decided the old song needed a bridge to break up the monotony, and instead he hurried forward, raising a hand in greeting.
“We should probably keep it quiet. Sounds like all the birds are asleep, and we wouldn’t want to wake them.” He put a hand out to shake the man’s hand. “The name’s Donovan.” He cocked his head, unsure, “Have we met before?”
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Post by Vincent on Sept 8, 2019 1:07:01 GMT -6
It had been nigh on three months since Vincent last sought work as a mercenary. His body was at long last recovered in full. His grip was strong as ever and emotionally he was the healthiest he had been in his life. His hand rested on the hilt of Phoenix Heart, the sheath and blade pushed downward to allow him a quick draw. The wind caused his cape to billow and his hair to flow with it. He was at the meeting point for the job, but it seemed he got there a bit early and so he had time to himself. Time to stand stoically.
'Sometimes not having a body is nice. This much wind it has got to be cold.'
'Yup. That it is.'
Thankfully he didn't have to stand around thinking about the cold for too long as others began to join him. One of them was a mercenary by the name of Donovan. He made a sound suggestion that they remain on the quiet side of things but he also asked if they had met. Vincent was taken off guard by this question and shook his hand. Dang, Donovan did look really familiar. "You know. I think we have, but I can't place it. Name's Vincent though, happy to be working together." And then he saw Reed.
"Reed!? What are you doing here?" Was the kid following him everywhere he went? It was like, he met him randomly in a tavern one day, and the two just kept having random run ins. Ah, no matter. "Know what, let's walk and talk. There is supposed to be someone else around here but I'm afraid I haven't seen them yet and its growing late." Not literally, but the time to meet did seem like it was going to pass soon. Then again, Vincent might just be a step off from being as gung-ho as Nayru.
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Post by Nayru Al-Saiduq on Sept 8, 2019 15:10:48 GMT -6
Focused enough on what lay ahead of her, her reaction to what stood behind was slower than she would have liked to admit, the sounds of quiet voices flowing through the woods soon drawing her attention. Bereft of the tortured groans and moans of the damned it didn't cause an overwhelming amount of panic, but she saw value in doubling back to check anyways - Caelin was close enough that some of the bandits from that hell-hole might have come seeking easy prey, and she'd be damned if she left those creatures to pick through the bones of good folks. She didn't WANT to fight bandits, it always felt uncomfortable, but she'd do what she had to do.
Thankfully, the folks gathering further down the path didn't look to be a gang of bandits or a gaggle of undead; some orange kid on a horse, and two generic sword dudes. One of them might have looked a bit chiseled and brooding, or possibly constipated, she couldn't tell. But going by what she could see and hear of their greetings, they seemed to have planned this out about as well as she did, which was honestly kind of a relief. So while she didn't entirely relax her caution, Nayru approached freely, unarmed and trying to look as non-threatening as she could manage.
"You don't smell like bandits or look like undead, so I'm guessing you guys are here for the quest too?" Hah. Nailed it! Maybe she should give up this adventuring business and retire as the world's funniest comedian. The dragon - hesitated for a moment, the words at the tip of her tongue. She wanted to suggest they go home. Try to convince them to let her handle it. Not that they looked helpless. But she didn't want to be responsible for any harm that might befall them if things were bad enough up ahead. She didn't want to have to hold back and risk letting them die just to keep her secret. She didn't want to make the wrong decision, but she didn't know what the right one was.
But she remembered what Veigue had said. She remembered what she had been through with Remus, and to a lesser degree with Kenshin and Gar and Mila. She knew humans weren't as weak and helpless as they looked. And she knew that she could hardly expect them to trust her, much less her kind, if she couldn't trust them herself. No matter who she thought she was, she couldn't save the world by herself. So unless she could pull a couple thousand like-minded dragons out of her ass right now, she was gonna have to work on this whole... 'trust' thing. "...Name's Nayru." And conveniently, they'd all already named themselves loud enough for her to catch it. If they were bandits, they were REALLY bad at their job. "Want to get moving?"
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Reed
Squire
"If some feller gives me a lance, I'm'ma fight tooth 'n nail for what I reckon is right."
Posts: 79
Profession: Farmhand
Affiliation: None
Guild: None
Affinity: Light
Profile: Reed
OoC Alias: Ardent
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Post by Reed on Sept 8, 2019 22:08:56 GMT -6
Reed, although still partially pleading to turn around right now and go home on the inside, let out a relieved sigh as he lowered his weapon and Gracie continued her approach to the figures up ahead. "Geez, ya nearabout scared me half to death with all that... Wait. Mr. Heelcutter? Whatcha doin' here of all places? It'd be outta kilter for me to complain since now I feel a little safer 'bout this here quest knowin' I got yer support, but, uh... Yeah. I ain't too happy bein' here, but Pa says I gotta take Gracie out here to Lycia to start roundin' up some monsters. So, here I am," the boy explained with a somewhat apologetic tone as he patted his horse's neck. Gracie, though she's seen Vincent before, didn't seem too pleased about being introduced to yet another stranger. For being raised by a tribe so welcoming to foreign peoples, the horse had a selective group that she approved of. Donovan didn't meet her criteria, earning him a stare and a snort of contempt.
"Oh! You're, ah... Donovan, right? Probably heard it already, but figures I'd show a lil' more courtesy for bargin' in like this. Name's Reed, 'n this here's my girl Gracie," he introduced while smiling down at the war steed currently staring down the mercenary. Interestingly enough, he didn't seem too concerned that his partner didn't approve of meeting new people. Perhaps it was a new form of training and socializing the animal? A bold move. Things only got worse when a fourth human (as far as they knew?) decided to join the group.
Just as Riley had opened his mouth to say something, Gracie suddenly let out a startled whinny and stepped away from the others. She shook, wriggled, and lowered her body threateningly despite the frantic and embarrassed soothing from her young master. [Daunt used] "Waah! G-Gracie, calm down! Easy, easy! It's okay, girl: t-these are nice folks! Shh, simmer down..." the Sacaean stammered, gently patting the unruly beast's mane. Slowly but surely, the soothing did the trick and she had relaxed herself enough to stop the defensive intimidation. Far from attacking, but the borderline malicious look in her wary brown eyes didn't waver one bit.
"Easy, girl, easy... There. No need to get all riled up, I'm still with ya. Eh heh! S-Sorry 'bout that, y'all! Gracie here, uh... She don't really get along with many strangers well. She's nice once ya get to know 'er!~" he reassured with an uncertain chuckle. Rider and mount were telling two different stories: rider insists that she's just scared, while mount looks like she wants to say "get in my way and I will trample you until scavengers mistake your remains for that of a roasted gargoyle". Reed waited for a few moments before exhaling and shaking his head with a troubled frown. "Just, uh... I-I'll keep 'er under control, promise. She'll only be fit to be tied against any feller who tries to hurt us. We should skedaddle."
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Post by Donovan on Sept 9, 2019 10:24:19 GMT -6
The call from behind them did cause the silver tongued mercenary to drop his hand to his sword and the wind around him rustled slightly. He spun around to see… a kid riding a horse. The boy was a wisp of a thing sitting atop his mount. He looked even younger than Donovan had been when he had lost his father - but it seemed the lad’s dad had sent him and his horse to “start roundin’ up some monsters.” This kid’s a goner, he thought, but Frag’s voice rang in his mind Then you shall protect him, obviously. He’s… certainly going to need it. The sword conceited.
“You know, I was kidding about the whole 'sleeping birds' bit, but we probably should keep it down.” He half joked with the pair. Sticking a hand out he introduced himself to the boy. “Nice to meet you, Reed.” Reed’s horse, seemed less than thrilled at the mercenary’s presence, however, and snorted in his general direction.
Suddenly Gracie let out a startled cry and the mercenary leapt back. He watched Gracie with caution and took note of her large hooves. Seems like the horse might make up for the rider. Reed set to work calming the creature and Donovan was glad he’d left Kitchi to scavenge back closer to town. The fox might’ve been trampled otherwise.
Do you feel that? Fragarach’s voice pressed into Don’s mind, The air has changed, Liar.
The woman finished her approach and, after she delivered a pithy one liner of her own (at least this group will be entertaining), she hesitated for a moment. Donovan wondered if she was thinking the same as he. Should this kid really be here? Last thing they needed was someone else getting killed by the dead.
Do you feel it? It demanded.
Her name didn’t register anything familiar, but then again, there were so many new faces making a name for themselves in Lycia, who could keep up. He nodded at her suggestion and started walking alongside the others.
It’s like the air all around us is crackling? How do you not - I feel it. Donovan cut him off. More just to shut it the blade up than anything. But still. He could almost feel the air… there was a charge that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. But he pushed the thought to the back of his mind and began taking stock of this team.
On his horse, Reed has substantial mobility that would certainly be useful in this fight, and might even make up for his lack of experience - and that halberd of his seemed to be made of good steel, at the very least - maybe even silver, which should come in handy. Factor in how intimidating (and large) his horse is, and he’d be great at sweeping up their left overs.
Vincent was certainly no stranger to the battle ground, judging by the scars and absolutely overwhelming arsenal he seemed to keep strapped to his body. How he managed to move with that much equipment, Donovan could only guess his raw strength. Plus, the Heelcutter’s reputation preceded him. He’d be a good partner to fight beside and draw the aggression with.
The silver tongued merc, himself, was armed much more lightly. Just a small round buckler to deflect what blows he couldn’t dodge; his dirk was hidden, sheathed along his leg and blending into his boot; and then, of course, he had Fragarach. Its lightweight design and the silver that was fused into the blade made it perfect for monster hunting. Not to mention its magical abilities.
It’s her. It has to be… Or maybe it’s the horse - But It makes much more sense if it’s this Nayru. Fragarach’s deep voice spoke with an almost fearful reverence, that sent a shiver down his wielder’s spine.
The biggest mystery was Nayru. She walked with an unusual confidence for someone who appeared unarmed.
What do you think? She must be a magi of some sort, right? I just hope she can heal. He thought. But Frag merely grunted a response.
“So.. anyone have any tricks up their sleeves that might be good to know about?” He asked. While he was curious about Nayru's abilities, any one of them could have some sort of skill or weapon that could change the tide. "I have a magic wind sword!" He offered, trying to break the ice.
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Post by Vincent on Sept 10, 2019 20:44:38 GMT -6
When Nayru made her joke in a deadpan manner Vincent decided to join in with a retort of his own, "Well, of course I'm not a bandit. I bathe once every month. Lucky for the rest of you that was yesterday." He kept his face even and showed no sign of the joke. Reed, who had spent time with him before would know it was a joke but the others...?
'Hey partner, that woman feels wrong. There is a lot of magic coming off of her.'
'What do you mean?'
'Its like a storm is being suppressed into a small tiny space. I don't know how to put it.' Phoenix Heart didn't sound worried, only confused.
'Well, well, well, I've felt this before actually. I just don't remember where or why.' The other voice of Phoenix Heart spoke up.
'Really?' Vincent pondered.
'Yeah. But like I said. I don't know why. Sorry.' The truth unknown to any of the three was that it was because Phoenix heart and its fragments had been used to face dragons before. But in their current divided form they did not know enough to decipher the signs.
'More importantly, do you feel the energy flowing from that sword over there too?' The main voice of Phoenix Heart interjected drawing Vincent's attention to Donovan's weapon. He didn't have a chance to ask about it however as Gracie then had her freak out causing Vincent to step back with a start.
"Ah, blast! That gave me a start." Vincent's heart calmed then. "I was going to ask if your father was insane to send you to fight monsters, but seeing how your horse is... I think she'll cover for you quite nicely." Vincent laughed it off but the amount of killing intent that came from a mere horse was terrifying. That... that should not be possible. Was it some sort of ancient breed?
It was then that Donovan asked about any tricks the others had and told them he had a magical wind sword. Ah, well that took care of his need to ask about it. "Seems you're of the same mind as me when it comes to forming strategies." Vincent began a rundown of his weapons. "My sword is imbued with control over light, further it has silver properties and the ability to cut the draconic family with ease. As for my dagger," he drew it from its sheath behind his back. The dark ivory hue from the gargoyle tusk made it stand out. Further it was shaped with barbed edges. Not only was it a parrying dagger but it was a swordbreaker. Further, the tip had a small hook in it. "It's not much, but its great for disarming opponents. Lastly, in a pinch, I can run fast, and I mean, REALLY fast." yeah, he'd probably have to prove that last one.
"Also, its good to meet you Nayru." he eyed her person curiously not seeing any weapons on hand.
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Post by Nayru Al-Saiduq on Sept 10, 2019 21:37:41 GMT -6
Well... at least none of them had tried to kill her or run screaming yet. Nayru supposed that was about as good a start as she could hope for. She could almost feel a glimmering nugget of hope forming, until it turned out to be a gold-plated turd as the ginger's horse went berserk, contorting in... ways... she had never been very good with animals, they didn't care much for her and she returned the feeling for the most part, so she didn't exactly know what it was doing. She didn't really do flight, but the fight side of the response seemed a little... disproportionate. So whatever the hell the horse was doing definitely worked on her, just maybe not quite in the intended way.
...She glared at it for a few more moments as it calmed down, mentally noting that she WOULD eat the stupid thing if it came at her. Transformed or not. She'd eaten worse meat before.
Still, her mood was more than slightly returned by Vincent's witty return. ...She hoped. Did he actually - no he was definitely joking. Probably. She returned his deadpan look with a small grin of her own, happy to see some measure of levity in a situation that had just gotten really weird. Nayru wasn't exactly a comedian herself, but she did appreciate the relief that some humor could bring to an unpleasant situation. And besides. Even if it felt a little weird. She was trying to learn how this whole 'enjoying life' thing worked. Might as well smile every now and then.
This - Donovan - seemed to have a good head on his shoulders as well, even if he wasn't much in the wise of humor. So far he was the only one who had offered anything in the wise of teamwork, with that question. She sure hadn't, a fact the dragon was not blind to. Pride was one thing but sensibility was another entirely; yes, she would have preferred to go at this alone, but with the circumstances being what they were... well, she couldn't really leave these kids alone to die. People. Not - dammit, Erim was rubbing off on her. But everyone seemed to be looking at her now, so... time to wow the crowd, right? Just tell them she was an ancient dragon, eternal enemy of humanity. That should go over great.
"Well, I don't have much up my sleeves. On account of... not wearing sleeves." She gestured helplessly, her bronzed arms indeed naked to the Pheraen sun as her jewelry glittered. Veigue's gift. and... her own. To say nothing of the earrings. Each had value to her. Sentimental or practical. Some things were best hidden in plain sight, after all. "I'm more of a... martial artist." It was a bit of a deflection, sure, but it was among the most straightforward truths she could offer. Nayru was proud of her hobby. If anything, she wished she got to use it more instead of all this fancy dragon stuff. But in the end, she was determined to survive - she'd promised too many people she would. So she'd do what she had to in this fight. Hopefully not too much, though.
Lot of magic weapons here. She tried not to geek out a little. Since she had charged up Veigue's sword and seen him use it, she had realized how dang cool those things could be! Almost... a lot... made her wish she could do much with them. Yeah, she could channel electricity through a sword, but it just wasn't the same, you know? "I'll look forwards to seeing those swords of yours in action. You want to find the village and plan things out there, or do that now?"
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Reed
Squire
"If some feller gives me a lance, I'm'ma fight tooth 'n nail for what I reckon is right."
Posts: 79
Profession: Farmhand
Affiliation: None
Guild: None
Affinity: Light
Profile: Reed
OoC Alias: Ardent
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Post by Reed on Sept 10, 2019 22:37:35 GMT -6
Ah, yes! Donovan's attempt to break the ice as well as Vincent's joke about why the heck he was even here was enough to make Reed relax and laugh along a little. Not only that, but hearing what each of them had to bring to the table was awe-inspiring to the impressionable lad. Magic weapons, disarming techniques, seemingly superhuman abilities, martial art skills, everything! Two things became apparent: the party was well-equipped to deal with whatever reared its ugly head their way, and that it was now his turn to show off what he could do. Granted, the peasant recognized that he was no great hero or vagabond warrior, but that wouldn't stop him from still speaking up!
"Oh, right! 'Kay, so y'all already met Gracie, right? She's strong, b-but I can fight too! See this here halberd? It can... It can, uh..."
...Oh, right. He didn't know what it did, or if it even was special beyond how shiny it was. Though his father had probably explained what it did, such knowledge evaded the squire at the moment. An awkward silence remained for a few moments before the Arkyan began again. "It, uh... W-Well, that's a piddlin' lil' detail, but I'm sure it'll be a good weapon to use! Other-'n that, I got food? Le'ssee here: I got two potatoes, three carrots, some beets, a cup-a corn..." he continued on, digging around in the small leather bag hooked up to Gracie's right side. At least it'd be known that someone's packing the vegetables for a picnic with monsters later. The poor boy mentally kicked himself for that "spectacular" attempt at showing off. Even Gracie seemed on the verge of cringing... Er, or whatever horses do when someone embarrasses them. Rather than keep going trying to match his peers, the eager boy instead closed his bag and stowed his Regal Halberd away upon the holster on his back once more, crossing it with the old iron pitchfork that he had trained with in the past.
"I should be good on what I'm gonna need, 'n I ain't gettin' any more battle-ready than right now. I'll go with the group: yer druthers is my ruthers."
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Post by Donovan on Sept 11, 2019 11:11:30 GMT -6
“Any chance you’d toss one of those carrots this way? I’d love a snack.” He was not joking. Carrots are delicious. All in all this team was more than capable of handling your standard spooks. Especially between Vincent and himself. If Reed acted as more of a scout and a diversion to pull away the dead and keep them at a distance, the two magic swords would be able to make quick work of most dead men.
“Right?” The mercenary was relieved to finally meet someone who is actually wise enough to use their mind, not just their swords. “I’ve never understood folk who think just running into a crowd of monsters and swinging is anything but a short road to becoming a Revenant yourself. There are very few situations where I’d want to be caught with my pants down - and none of them involve the undead.”
She’s another one of you, Liar. The sword spat in his head. I don’t know. She’s certainly got the physique of a martial artist. Not quite sure how that’s going to do against nether infused carcasses, but I it didn’t seem like a lie - More like a half truth Their voices speculated in unison. Look at that, Frag! We’ve actually managed to agree on something. Isn’t that wholesome? A half truth is still half a lie. I do not trust this sleeveless liar.
Don rolled his eyes, but was wary, himself. Frag was right. No way was she just a martial artist. That sensation Frag pointed out still clung to the air. But he wasn’t sure if that sensation was all in his head or if it was actually tangible. “We should probably head over there and see what we’re working with before making a plan, right?”
As they began to move, Donovan walked beside the so called “Martial Artist”. The sensation was definitely there, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it truly was. He didn’t notice it himself, and no one but Nayru herself was likely close enough to see, either, but the mercenary’s wild, curly black hair stand a little more on end around the bejeweled woman. “Say, Nayru? Where are you from. I couldn’t quite put a name to your accent.” He was genuinely curious. His childhood as an actor had left him with quite a strong grip on the accents of Elibe - him not being able to tell what hers was frustrated the silver tongued mercenary.
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Post by Vincent on Sept 17, 2019 10:16:05 GMT -6
So this Nayru was a martial artist? Vincent shortly pondered this announcement. He had met a woman by the name of Anjali once who could kick a blade deep into the body of a bael. He supposed that was a rare talent but perhaps someone dedicated to such things really could destroy even undead monsters. As for Reed...
"I'll hold off on any food until the victory celebration." Vincent laughed when Donovan took a carrot for himself though.
"Here or the village we need a plan, and while I agree we need to know what we're dealing with first there is always a chance that he get ourselves attacked well before we can get a word in between ourselves." Vincent didn't mean to speak against Donovan's suggestion in any sort of hostile manner but as he said, going in swinging was a good way to get killed. So too was moving too quickly. "At the very least we should travel with some sort of formation."
Vincent didn't mean to throw himself into some sort of leadership role but his suggestion might come off that way. "I'll take point. My weapon is a holy and silver sword. If anything comes up right away I can cut it down quickly. Donovan, you'll take the rear, with your weapons I know you can handle anything if something comes that way. Also if you see anything..." Vincent tested the direction of the wind. "Perfect. We're traveling against the wind; send a small gust to our backs." Wordless communication was the best after all. "Nayru, Reed, I want you two in the middle." He knew next to nothing about Nayru, and Reed was someone that still needed protection in Vincent's mind.
'Aren't you being a little bossy? You sure you want to do that again?' Phoenix Heart was of course referring to Vincent's failure back in the fight with the baels.
'Its fine. If they refuse that's up to them. I just...'
'You like being in charge, don't you?'
'Maybe.' Vincent hated to admit it but... he remembered the Siege of Hero city. The big heroes like Richter who were put in charge of things failed to lead and direct the defenders. He remembered how lost he felt as he struggled to hold things together, morale least of all. Maybe it was a lack of trust, or overconfidence in his own judgements, he hated this side of himself. Maybe he just feared the idea of delaying plans and what might happen.
'I get it partner. Just, don't impose yourself on them too much.'
'I'll try.'
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Post by Nayru Al-Saiduq on Sept 21, 2019 14:43:38 GMT -6
It occurred to Nayru she was actually more concerned about Reed and his questionable halberd skills than the horse, and she wasn't sure how she felt about that. The horse was big enough to be a threat if she wasn't paying attention sure, but she could hear it coming. A gangly farmboy swinging a giant metal axe-spear thing around, the last thing she might hear was the wind whistling and then her severed head flying through the air. The thought was a little disconcerting, all things considered. She decided to keep an eye on Reed. He seemed like a good kid, at least from what she could see. Especially if he was giving out free food. Just... wasn't sold on his combat ability yet.
Donovan seemed rather dismissive of running in and swinging, which the dragon endeavored not to take personally. She didn't really have any other options than running in, her and weapons were... well, maybe she shouldn't be so hard on Reed. She had tried to use those kama for a while, and in fairness she had never accidentally killed anyone with them, but it also hadn't gone... nearly as well as she had hoped. Unarmed was just better for her.
Still, the group moved along the conversation and got moving on their little journey pretty easily, and thankfully no one called her on her answer - which, in retrospect, HAD been a little underwhelming. All these magic swords and fancy weapons and she had... fists. Maybe they didn't care? Or maybe they all happened to know incredibly skilled martial artists. Or maybe THEY were all incredibly skilled martial arti- she glanced and Reed and dropped the thought.
Donovan seemed conversational; she was about to wheel off a generic response when her brain caught up and she paused, eyeing him appreciatively. She had definitely underestimated the swordsman's insight if he had caught onto that almost immediately. It definitely kicked him up a notch in her personal estimation, 'observant' wasn't always an ideal trait to have when you were supposed to be incognito, but it was also an intriguing departure from the normal. ...And reminded her a little of a certain Sacaen she had known for a while, a man just as young and just as observant, which brought to mind memories she would rather not have thought of right now.
Still; the smile she put on was mostly genuine, bemused and appreciative, hiding a bit of sorrow as she tried to push thoughts of her long gone friend from mind. "You have a good ear, Don. My accent isn't from anywhere, it's from everywhere - been traveling most of my life. Think the only thing I really retained from Nabata was my fashion sense." She shrugged, running her fingers along the shawl that had traveled with her for quite a while. Well, she had been through a few of them; this one she had actually picked up in a Sacaen market, appreciating some of its designs being clearly inspired by Nabatan fashion mixed with Sacaen sensibility. At the time she hadn't thought that much of it, but now she was pretty attached to the damn thing. ...Not that she was any less attached to her jewelry. But the shawl made more of a statement. And she could probably use it to strangle someone.
Vincent on the other hand was... less conversational, and a lot more aggressive, if that was the best way to put it. His orders rankled on her pride a bit - did he think she needed to be protected, or did he just assume he could order her around? The ugly feeling in her gut was a bit too familiar, enough so that she recognized it and was able to hold it in check before she opened her mouth reflexively.
That didn't mean she was entirely OK with it though. "I'm happy to work with you," she half-truthed in response to Vincent's orders, {but I'm not working for anyone} almost came out before she caught herself, "but perhaps we should learn a bit more about each other and how we fight before finalizing roles." Hmm. Had she come off as a bitch there? Nayru hoped not. She wasn't trying to shut down Vincent's suggestion - she appreciated the idea - it just seemed unwise to try to fit the square peg into the round hole. So to speak. Also... she was really, REALLY hoping to get through today without having to breathe lightning, and from mid-range there wasn't much else she could do.
Did she trust these people? ...No. It wasn't an insult, just simple truth. She wasn't going to transform, if possible she wasn't even going to halfshift. Too many questions there. But maybe she hand't been as forthcoming as she should be with her initial greeting. This team fighting thing was a pain in the ass. Stifling a sigh, the dragon continued. "I use physical reinforcement magic. Your best use for me is throwing me at the bad guys to keep 'em busy. ...Or having me throw you at the bad guys, but that's probably risky." She cracked a half smile, half joking and half dead serious with that last bit. Hey, it worked with Veigue that one time!
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Reed
Squire
"If some feller gives me a lance, I'm'ma fight tooth 'n nail for what I reckon is right."
Posts: 79
Profession: Farmhand
Affiliation: None
Guild: None
Affinity: Light
Profile: Reed
OoC Alias: Ardent
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Post by Reed on Sept 24, 2019 2:08:58 GMT -6
The boy chuckled and nodded when Donovan had actually asked him for the snack. A small sentiment to celebrate, yes, but one nonetheless. The lance was a mighty tool for man, but no match in the end for a little humanity. Even now, the lessons of his past from his father proved to be true...
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"Hey Pa! I got it! Heh, that lil' feller's down 'n out!~"
"Ah, I see... Well done, Riley. You're improving. Now we let it go."
"Yeah, we- H-Hey, wait just a darn second! Whaddaya mean 'let it go'? Pa, I spent all day tryin' to rope that there boot-licker of a sheep! Gracie's dead tired from runnin' 'round the pasture after it. Why do ya wanna let it go?"
"Because it's our sheep, son."
"Huh? But I've gone 'n got it tied for dinner. Ma said we're havin' somethin' special for dinner, 'n she said you asked for it."
"I know. But we're not eating the sheep. We won't even take any of that wool off of its back, even though the winter's closing in. Riley, I've been diligent in making sure you're a proper warrior alright... But I'm not about to fool myself into thinking that you'll learn about compassion and keep it. Today's little incident was a training exercise: I let that sheep out in the morning, and had you ride around to catch it for me."
"What the... What in tarnation are you goin' on about?! I could-a just gave it a quick thrust 'n it'd be ready to eat in no time! What kinda foolery is this, makin' me round up this thing?!"
"That's exactly why I made sure you wouldn't go and stab the sheep right away. See the sheep you roped down? That's one of the few animals we're selling in the market this year for some extra money. Remember this well: you can feed the family for one night with a stab, but you earn us enough to feed us for a month by choosing to show some restraint. You can contribute to those around you as a man as well as a soldier. Now, let's go untie that sheep and we can get back for supper? We're having something special, but it's not the sheep. You'll like it, I promise."
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Vincent's plan had snapped Reed out of his trance with a jolt. "Right! Got it! Ain't got no complaints. If y'all need me to, bet that Gracie 'n I can charge right on ahead 'n show 'em what-for! Also like to think I'm the tallest person here," he joked with a gentle pat to the horse beneath him.
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Post by Donovan on Sept 24, 2019 14:55:46 GMT -6
Don chuckled at Nayru’s explanation, “Why thank you, I grew up in a troupe, so accents were an essential piece of my education. But that does make the most sense! When you spend enough time on the road, everything just begins to blend together.” He realized that her shawls and bracelets were the closest things to give away her homeland, but it was easy to buy cloths. Harder still to cover your voice’s origins. “You must’ve been traveling for a while long time! I don’t even hear much of a trace.
The wayward warrior took a hearty crunch out of the carrot. It was probably one of the best carrots he’d ever had. “Where’d you get this thing? You grow it yourself or something?” He munched away at the carrot as Vincent formulated a formation - Donovan was perhaps putting on more of a show of nonchalance than he’d intended. He didn’t necessarily disagree with Vincent’s formation, in fact, he thought Nayru’s slight frustration over being shoved in the middle like something to be protected was more on her being secretive than on anyone else. If all you tell people you can do is punch real good, and you’re not wearing any armor, than what do you expect?
All that being said. Crunch. It was probably best to let the tides roll as they were until they actually got to a battlefield worth fighting on. Scanning the terrain, Donovan hoped that they’d have something a little flatter once they reached the village. This hilly landscape would only make things harder for Reed on his horse - hit and run tactics were really going to make them useful in this fight. Crunch.
But Nayru’s reinforcement magic confused him. Being able to use Strength spells meant that she should be able to empower anyone. Not to mention she’d probably be able to heal. Unless… The mercenary’s eyes wandered down to the bangles that dangled on the Martial artist’s wrists. He’d never heard of jewelry being magically reinforced. But he didn’t see any reason why that wasn’t a possibility. Crunch.
"That formation sounds good to me, but I'd recommend putting Nayru up ahead as a scout." The mercenary offered as he tucked the rest of the carrot into his belt for latter munching. "She carries the least weight and is most likely the quietest of us all." And he guessed that such a position would likely help keep the peace long enough for them to get to their destination.
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