kindly devotee

o' holy light, shine down on me; private&affiliated, written by nic.

[reddragonprincess]

exodia: dragon edition

winter arena 2025: team 5 silver round

[heliacalrisings]

No longer do they stand upon a verdant field but rather a husk, the ground dry and cracked, and the sky above hung with gray skies. The humid air sits heavy in Ephraim's chest as their foe emerges from the fog.

This time it is no relentless horde but a large beast that blots out the sky. Terrible wings, ferocious fangs and claws, and slit eyes that track its prey: them. Ephraim has only seen one beast of its like before. The Demon King. Larger than life and just as ugly.

"Agreed," Ephraim replies to Seliph. "We face only one foe but we should not underestimate it."

As if on cue, it lashes out at Minerva with its tail and sends her backwards. But she stands back up, resilient as ever. "Professor, are you alright?"

When Seliph speaks again, Ephraim's gaze follows his hand. "Yes, if you draw its attention with your arrows, I can go in while it's distracted." He nods in agreement. "I would hate to deal with this beast if it takes to the sky. We'll be at its mercy."

—@bxldrsdraumar, @lalamines

[bxldrsdraumar]

A dragon.

It was impossible to mistake, and yet Sigurd's mind attempted every which way to find another explanation - no, it was far too large to be something ridden, like those of Thracia; no, it was not a trick of the light; no, it really was that big.

He couldn't help when he let out a low whistle, raising a hand to shield his eyes from the glare of the sun as he tipped his head back to look upon it. Perhaps it was irreverent, if he was even supposed to be reverent for the thing: they were here to kill it, after all.

Wasn't that something heroes did? In the stories?

Seliph's voice, unruffled by the situation, once more brought a smile to his face ill-fitting the danger they were probably in. The novelty of having him so close had yet to wear off, to be able to see him, to hear him speak, to learn of the man he'd become.

"A fine suggestion, but not without danger for yourself. If you draw its attention, that will mean that you have its attention."

It was a warning that he gave lightly, knowing that he was of the same ilk - who better to bear those burdens of perception, than those best equipped to handle it?

More and more his father's son. The thought gave him a little thrill.

"But, I will be here to ensure that it doesn't decide you look too terribly tasty." It was lighthearted, and accompanied with a grin, and the tightening of his hand on the hilt of his sword.

@lalamines

[virtuoustyrfing]

Ephraim agrees to his suggestion while Father warns him against the danger he would be inviting his way. That possibility is there, of course, but it is either him or his allies. Seliph wouldn't have made such a suggestion if he weren't prepared to take a risk.

He cracks a slight smile at the older man's comment. "It would be quite something if it actually tried to eat us." 'Something' is the best way Seliph can put it. What would even happen in that scenario?

"I'll stay as far away from it as possible, I promise."

Finding a suitable spot may save him from being attacked in turn. Or at the very least, visibility shouldn't be an issue for him when their opponent towers over them all.

"What do you think, Mercedes?" Seliph turns toward the young woman, as she has yet to express her opinion on their plan. "And you, Professor Minerva?"

@lalamines

[lalamines]

The first thing Mercedes notices isn't the desolate landscape, or even the raging dragon before them. It's the weight of her attire, plates of armour that feel more oppressive than protective. Even her face is covered, hidden behind a mask and shawl leaving nothing but her eyes and ponytail showing out from beneath. She makes her way over to the group, every step more laboured than it ought to be, strikingly uncomfortable. How on earth do people fight in such a get up?

"I don't think we need to worry about it eating us. This is a training exercise, after all. Though I do wish I had a healing spell prepared right now," Mercedes replies to Seliph, worried frown hidden beneath her mask. Though her brows furrow, she continues. "Whilst we can indeed get hurt, I'm certain the church wouldn't let anyone get seriously injured. I assume we'll see the healers before things get too dicey."

Yet they're still face to face with a raging dragon. Illusion or not, it turns her veins to ice. It's unlike anything she's ever seen before and her grip on Light Brand tightens in response to the fear. No amount of rationalisation could make this feel safe.

"We should probably start by aiming for it's weak points though? It's wings are an obvious one but it looks to be struggling to protect it's tail, too."

[virtuoustyrfing]

cosplay is love, cosplay is life

winter arena 2025: team 5 bronze round

[heliacalrisings]

The Crusader Baldr? It seems to have significance to the two of them, along with this sword he wields. Ah, an ancestor. Their ancestor, if he surmises correctly. Neither has given their house but their awe and eagerness toward his garb and the sword he carries are the clues.

Mercedes approaches him with her staff and the wounds he's accumulated wash away beneath the radiant light.

"Thank you," he replies to Mercedes with a nod from atop his horse. She has a warm presence that matches the light she carries.

This training exercise has not at all gone how he expected nor wanted it to. The horse is far too skittish or perhaps wary of having a new rider, their bond not yet formed. He's made a poor showing of things so far while the others have been able to put their skills to the test. Even Mercedes wields her weapon with deftness.

Sigurd approaches once more but his words make Ephraim pause. Has he been doing so poorly that he thinks he doesn't know how to wield a sword? But he has no chance to ask him before more enemies arrive on the field.

Ephraim counts four— no, five. A gathering fog had obscured the last one, but an arrow pierces the veil and finds its mark in Mercedes. Ephraim urges his horse in front of her, leaving Sigurd's side, and stands between her and their enemies. "Are you alright?" He chances a glance back at her to confirm she breathes but keeps his eyes on their enemies with Tyrfing drawn.

At some point his more fanciful clothes had disappeared, leaving him in the same formal garb he wore before and happy for it. He did not relish the idea of going into battle with a feathered crown, much less against the fearsome foes that now stand before them.

One of them had slinked their way toward the group and stolen Sigurd's sword right from his scabbard, but Seliph's quick shooting fells the foe. The battlefield is no time for emotions, but seeing the two interact stirs something in him. He could not say with confidence that his own father would look at him with such pride. It some how makes him feel out of place, especially as he is the one that wields their ancestral sword.

Was someone out there wielding his father's axe? Or his lance? Or his sister's sword?

The battlefield is no time for emotions. He shakes the thoughts free and focuses once more.

Sigurd launches himself back into battle and Ephraim spurs his horse into action. "I ride with you, Sigurd!" He easily catches up atop his white stallion. Where Sigurd's swing goes wide and misses, Ephraim manages to cut off several of its vines. He swings again, this time taking off only a few vines, and by now he's so close that when the sentient plant returns its attack he is hit at its full force. A barrage of small, hard pellets assault both horse and rider, their bodies shielding Sigurd.

"We can't get closer! Let's try a different tactic."

[lalamines]

Beyond the fog of war, an arrow hurtles towards Mercedes before she can even blink, let alone plan a retreat. The force sends her reeling, fighting to stay atop her horse. There is no blood drawn where the point of the arrowhead makes contact with her skin, the projectile simply vanishes into thin air. The pain is no less real, however, and there is no time to lick her wounds as the ground collapses and shakes, throwing her about like a ragdoll.

"I've been better," Mercedes quips with a tight smile. "Though it's nothing I can't handle. Thank you for your concern, Ephraim. Please don't worry on my account."

She follows behind as Ephraim's mount strides forward to join Sigurd in the heat of battle. As he bravely tears and slashes at the vines, Mercedes turns her attention to the brave knight. Her palms radiate light as she whispers the incantation required to cast Physic.

"You've fought so bravely, sir. Let's keep you on your feet, alright?"

Then she takes after Ephraim, the plantkin already weakened and swings an arc of light from her sword. It misses, soaring far out of the way as it rounds on her next. Her knuckles turn white as they grasp the reins, knowing she doesn't have the stamina to withstand a hit. Perhaps she'd been foolish, thinking she could stand shoulder to shoulder with such talented warriors.

The knight's voice calls out, calls her back to her team and with less than a second to spare she moves, pellets barely grazing her arm.

"Sir Sigurd!" Mercedes exclaims in relief, "I thought I was a goner. Thank you so much."

@heliacalrisings @reddragonprincess @virtuoustyrfing @bxldrsdraumar

[virtuoustyrfing]

"Oh, not at all—" Seliph's heart soars at his father's words. He takes in the twinkle in the older man's eyes and returns the smile just as easily. It's a shame such moments are only fleeting. His father charges back into the fray, followed closely by Ephraim, then Mercedes.

Even from a distance, Seliph can tell that their combined efforts against the plant monster aren't enough. He should assist them; oh, he tries taking aim at the plant. Unfortunately for him, the fog is starting to roll in from the treeline. It is growing thicker by the minute.

Without a clear view of the monster, he fears he may accidentally hit his allies instead.

Seliph has no other choice but to lower his bow for now. He nods to the flying instructor, "We ought to assist them, Professor Minerva."

That said, he draws closer to the rest of the group. It is just in time to find out that their opponents are taking advantage of the fog. The mage from before—didn't Professor Minerva already defeat him?—seems to have snuck up on Mercedes. When the first spell fails to meet its mark, Seliph can see him preparing another one.

Without hesitation, Seliph fires an arrow.

"Mercedes! I have your back."

@lalamines

[lalamines]

The scholar misses his mark, leaving her an opening to strike back before retreating. Surely he would withdraw to lick his wounds rather than chase after her. An arrow whistles through the air as it flies past her ear and Mercedes is lucky she didn't have to learn not to turn her back on an enemy the hard way.

"Oh my!" Her left hand clasps over her chest in surprise, but her eyes crinkle into a relieved smile. "Thank you, Seliph. You're very kind. I should have known better than to let my guard down."

The strangely aggressive plant crawls ever closer, vines undulating like tentacles. Mercedes is absolutely exhausted at this point but she doubts their opponents are faring much better. Tightening her grip on Light Brand she surges forward before it can get in range of her allies and plunges the tip of the blade straight through it's stem. As she pulls the sword back it appears to wilt before disappearing once more.

"That just leaves the Bow Knight standing. Please, be careful everyone. We know he can strike from an impressive distance."

@reddragonprincess

[virtuoustyrfing]

cosplay is love, cosplay is life

winter arena 2025: team 5 bronze round

[bxldrsdraumar]

Every moment he spent on the field at his son's side made his chest swell with warmth, and to see Seliph return to his side, and to hear the words from his mouth, when Sigurd's fist closed around the hilt he felt not a stranger's sword in his grip, but their sword, the sword of Crusader Baldr and of the blood they shared.

Sigurd smiled, briefly shook off the lingering feeling of kinship - something that he had so direly missed with his son, his son!

That sword was nearby, but he still needed to contend with this one, still clumsy in his hands.

"Thank you, Seliph. I fear I'm not setting the best example, but…perhaps you don't need one from me any longer, huh?" he teased gently, eyes twinkling in the bright light of the sun in the sky, flush with all the emotions he had never had the chance to express. He chuckled, swung the sword in his grip, as though to reacquaint himself with it, and nodded.

"But we continue. Onward!"

The beasts still gathered, in spite of his own, and his son's - and the ladies', he could not forget them! - incredible showings.

The magician, that one he knew they could strike down with relative ease - had they not done so already? Easy pickings - and the mounted archer remained at the back of his mind for a moment, somehow the most ephemerally familiar of their opponents.

But what caught his eye was the slither of plantkin, the thrum of dense forest magic, and that disquieted him, briefly.

"Prepare yourself!" was all he said before launching forward - grievously mistaking the thing's elusiveness, and the slickness of the ground beneath its feet transforming the path nearer to silt and mud, and he swung wide, missing entirely.

@heliacalrisings

[heliacalrisings]

The Crusader Baldr? It seems to have significance to the two of them, along with this sword he wields. Ah, an ancestor. Their ancestor, if he surmises correctly. Neither has given their house but their awe and eagerness toward his garb and the sword he carries are the clues.

Mercedes approaches him with her staff and the wounds he's accumulated wash away beneath the radiant light.

"Thank you," he replies to Mercedes with a nod from atop his horse. She has a warm presence that matches the light she carries.

This training exercise has not at all gone how he expected nor wanted it to. The horse is far too skittish or perhaps wary of having a new rider, their bond not yet formed. He's made a poor showing of things so far while the others have been able to put their skills to the test. Even Mercedes wields her weapon with deftness.

Sigurd approaches once more but his words make Ephraim pause. Has he been doing so poorly that he thinks he doesn't know how to wield a sword? But he has no chance to ask him before more enemies arrive on the field.

Ephraim counts four— no, five. A gathering fog had obscured the last one, but an arrow pierces the veil and finds its mark in Mercedes. Ephraim urges his horse in front of her, leaving Sigurd's side, and stands between her and their enemies. "Are you alright?" He chances a glance back at her to confirm she breathes but keeps his eyes on their enemies with Tyrfing drawn.

At some point his more fanciful clothes had disappeared, leaving him in the same formal garb he wore before and happy for it. He did not relish the idea of going into battle with a feathered crown, much less against the fearsome foes that now stand before them.

One of them had slinked their way toward the group and stolen Sigurd's sword right from his scabbard, but Seliph's quick shooting fells the foe. The battlefield is no time for emotions, but seeing the two interact stirs something in him. He could not say with confidence that his own father would look at him with such pride. It some how makes him feel out of place, especially as he is the one that wields their ancestral sword.

Was someone out there wielding his father's axe? Or his lance? Or his sister's sword?

The battlefield is no time for emotions. He shakes the thoughts free and focuses once more.

Sigurd launches himself back into battle and Ephraim spurs his horse into action. "I ride with you, Sigurd!" He easily catches up atop his white stallion. Where Sigurd's swing goes wide and misses, Ephraim manages to cut off several of its vines. He swings again, this time taking off only a few vines, and by now he's so close that when the sentient plant returns its attack he is hit at its full force. A barrage of small, hard pellets assault both horse and rider, their bodies shielding Sigurd.

"We can't get closer! Let's try a different tactic."

[lalamines]

Beyond the fog of war, an arrow hurtles towards Mercedes before she can even blink, let alone plan a retreat. The force sends her reeling, fighting to stay atop her horse. There is no blood drawn where the point of the arrowhead makes contact with her skin, the projectile simply vanishes into thin air. The pain is no less real, however, and there is no time to lick her wounds as the ground collapses and shakes, throwing her about like a ragdoll.

"I've been better," Mercedes quips with a tight smile. "Though it's nothing I can't handle. Thank you for your concern, Ephraim. Please don't worry on my account."

She follows behind as Ephraim's mount strides forward to join Sigurd in the heat of battle. As he bravely tears and slashes at the vines, Mercedes turns her attention to the brave knight. Her palms radiate light as she whispers the incantation required to cast Physic.

"You've fought so bravely, sir. Let's keep you on your feet, alright?"

Then she takes after Ephraim, the plantkin already weakened and swings an arc of light from her sword. It misses, soaring far out of the way as it rounds on her next. Her knuckles turn white as they grasp the reins, knowing she doesn't have the stamina to withstand a hit. Perhaps she'd been foolish, thinking she could stand shoulder to shoulder with such talented warriors.

The knight's voice calls out, calls her back to her team and with less than a second to spare she moves, pellets barely grazing her arm.

"Sir Sigurd!" Mercedes exclaims in relief, "I thought I was a goner. Thank you so much."

@heliacalrisings @reddragonprincess @virtuoustyrfing @bxldrsdraumar

[virtuoustyrfing]

cosplay is love, cosplay is life

winter arena 2025: team 5 bronze round

[virtuoustyrfing]

"Thank you for your timely aid, Professor," Seliph nods to Professor Minerva with a grateful smile. He wonders if her tome is taking a toll on her. She does seem out of sorts, having struck enemies and allies alike with lightning. But thankfully, none of them is gravely wounded—especially with such a skilled troubador by their side.

New illusions emerge—fewer in numbers, yet no less imposing than before. They don't seem to faze Seliph's father, however, because the man immediately takes charge. He even fells the giant serpent in an awe-inspiring display of skill and strength!

Seliph needs to do even better to live up to Father's expectations, doesn't he?

"Of course!" He lifts his bow, ready to aim—and pauses when magic washes over his body. Blue eyes blink. To his surprise, his clothes transform from the archer's garb into a dress. It's red and white, clashing with the landscape. Turning his head, something brushes against his cheek.

He soon realizes he has a hat. A scarf too.

"This must be the magic of the illusory arena— oh!" Seliph's eyes light up when he takes in the cavalier's new attire. "Why, it looks like you are now dressed up as the Crusader Baldr—an ancestor of House Chalphy. Don't you think so too, Father?"

Seliph supposes they both look rather festive.

Rolling his shoulders, he notes that the new clothes don't hinder his movements. With that in mind, he moves into a better position, eyes on the dragon. If approaching it is inadvisable, shooting it from afar should do the trick...

"I'm— I'm alright!" Seliph stumbles back. His arrow may have struck its mark, but he vastly underestimated the dragon's range. "Now is your chance to finish it off."

@reddragonprincess @lalamines

[reddragonprincess]

The fieriness she felt in her chest was burning brighter as she felt another figure coming closer, but the sweet and tender sound of her voice immediately eased the tension in the air, making the Macedon princess let down her guard for a moment, recognizing the familiar tone –the young girl with the delicate frame and appearance. Her presence soothed the warrior woman, especially after she felt the calmness of the healing flowing throughout her body.

“This feels…much better” she slowly recollected energies, pulling herself together as she stood again on her feet. “I owe you my thanks, Mercedes” she addressed casually, but the heat of the battle was still lingering around them and the reactiveness of the young girl proved impressively great. Minerva couldn’t help but feel at ease with a team like that –she felt completely safe and secure they would survive and overcame the hordes of enemies. To strengthen this thought, a gentle tap on the shoulder made the red-haired woman turn to face one of the man who she erroneously attacked –a leader, in her eyes, a perfect commander for a team like their own.

“We’ll be victorious in the end” she enhanced Sigurd’s words, preparing the tome in her hands, now fully recovered, despite the slight wound on the stomach (partially healed, by now) and with a genuine smile, she nodded in trust to Ephraim too, less exhausted and more concentrated on the power within her new toy. Then, a glance around, as a whole new horde has suddenly appeared, after Mercedes took care of the plant: less than before, but this time they seemed more dangerous and threatening. One of them was quickly handled by Sigurd, his sword had no rivals and he impressively outlashed the tall figure. One down, two more.

Burgundy eyes turned and she eyed a large draconic figure charging against the young boys and feeling the urge to help the two students, Minerva dashed towards their direction, noticing a strange impediment to her movement and as soon as she looked down at her robe, she now noticed a very fancy dress with a tight, body-hugging shape, which was why she felt unable to properly move, despite the small shoes she was wearing (luckily) –the ball left a great remembrance of fancy long dress.

Fuck this dress, I’m going to get him, she thought to herself as she tried to reach with difficulty the position of the enemy, though letting leaving plenty of time for another enemy to get close to her and intercept her attack –a scholar, apparently. He suddenly appeared in front of her, surely trying to block the way towards the wounded enemy, but this obviously enraged even more the already enraged lady.

“MOVE” she intimated, the tome pulled from her belt and a tremendous blast hit the poor enemy who couldn’t help but collapse to the ground, lifeless. “Hmph, told you” she hissed, checking the dress and observing the dragon from afar.

— @lalamines , @heliacalrisings , @bxldrsdraumar , @virtuoustyrfing

[lalamines]

"No need to thank me, Minerva. Your good health is more than thanks enough!" Mercedes says with a smile before allowing her attention to be drawn elsewhere. New foes appear, new threats. Sigurd and Minerva act quickly, downing the Monarch and Scholar in quick succession. Upon horseback she trots over to the two young gentleman engaged with the dragon, somewhat bemused when her outfit changes as she goes.

"Ephraim, isn't it? I believe we're in the same class, though I've not had the pleasure of making your acquaintance just yet," she fills the air with effervescent chatter, light already gathered at her palms. There are more comfortable places to catch up with classmates - the courtyard for example, but even the battlefield is a fine place to make friends. "How are you feeling? I hope I'm not being too blunt but you look a little tired. Our enemies might be illusions but they still hit pretty hard, don't they?"

At least that's one thing she's certain she can help with. A cast of Physic later and the scrapes and bruises from training melt away. Seliph's strike has weakened the Silent Dragon and she wonders if she can finish him off. Though quite aware she's still a novice, her swordplay so far has been better than she'd expected. Hopefully she was beginning to get the hang of it. Moving into melee range, she swings Light Brand in an arc with her right hand, confident enough now to keep her left on the reins of her horse. The sword makes contact with it's mark and another illusory foe dissipates into the aether.

There will certainly be more to come.

"I'm getting much better at this." Mercedes takes the brief moment of reprieve to congratulate herself. After all, when she'd first been handed this sword for training she'd been convinced she'd become a burden to her team. "We can take another wave but if anyone is starting to feel a little drained, please let me know."

@heliacalrisings @bxldrsdraumar @reddragonprincess @virtuoustyrfing

[virtuoustyrfing]

cosplay is love, cosplay is life

winter arena 2025: team 5 bronze round

[virtuoustyrfing]

A promising start devolves into swords swinging down on allies instead of foes. Even his father, a descendant of Baldr who should feel at home with a sword, has some trouble. It would be almost comedic if Seliph found any of it particularly amusing.

Although a training exercise like this has no real stakes attached to it, he wouldn't want any of his teammates to get knocked down this soon.

"Focus, everyone!"

Aside from their speciality in taking care of aerial threats, archers are best suited to stay behind their allies. Seliph knows as much, and thus, he circles from behind to get a clear view of the dragon rider.

His hand reaches for another arrow.

Yet, as Seliph steadies his aim, a cloaked man riding a white wolf appears out of nowhere. A guttural growl is his only warning before the beast lunges at him, forcing Seliph to scrample aside and lose his concentration. Although he still tries to shoot the wolf, it is too agile and too unpredictable in its movements, and he misses by a wide margin.

Its rider twirls a dagger as though mocking him.

"Er, a little help over here?"

@reddragonprincess @lalamines

[reddragonprincess]

Despite the terribly outcome of her first attack, the companions by her side seemed quite accustomed to battle and she saw with quite delight that even who appeared to be the more kind and delicate, suddenly unleashed a powerful strike against the mad king, stopping it in place with the severe blow. Yet, the trouble has just begun.

As the Macedon princess was trying to get acquainted with the unusual tome, a sudden burst inside herself felt absolutely unsettling and bizarre: it was as if she felt the urge to attract against herself all the attention of the people around, especially from her allies. It wasn’t a concrete feel, but definitely an imperceptible touch that led anyone towards the red-haired princess… and so it did, as one of the young man suddenly slashed his sword against Minerva’s body, an action so sudden and so unrealistically unknown that even the red-haired woman couldn’t help but counterattack with a close-up attack, emitting a solid blast from her tome.

The moment she realized his apologies, she as well wanted to do so, taking few steps back as to give Sigurd some space to see and breath. “My fault, truly, I… didn’t know why I was that close to you right now” she grasped for words, a slight anxiety hitting her chest as she extremely hated whenever she could not understand a situation not under her own control. But again, another hit.

As she was trying to regain a proper position, another attack came into her direction, this time from the young man of her class: and yet again, Minerva almost could not control the flames inside her chest and the tome provoked a terrible blast, hitting against her will another companion.

“A-Ahh-.. I need to stop” she knelt on her right leg, breathing heavily as she accepted the help of the man beside her, “This is out of my control, how could..” and she couldn’t finish her words that the horde decided to crush against their team: the strange plant and the man with the crown aimed towards the poor lady with the horse, though not managing to do much damage to her –she was a warrior or what? Minerva couldn’t help but admired the young girl, dealing with such audacity and simplicity each blow. In the meanwhile, the man on the wolf instantly approached the man who has been shouting to focus to the group –actually a wise advise, if even Minerva could hear it correctly: her mind was numb, a bit of frenzy flooded in her blood, but she really needed to focus that energy on the enemy, on one enemy –the man and the wolf.

While Seliph did his best to keep it occupy, Minerva took all the energies she had left in her body and she threw herself against the beast, as she didn’t care if a tome should be used from ranged, she would always be in the front line, no matter what: the concentration was powerful enough to deal a severe blast to the creature, who has been thrown away by the impact received. Yet, before the blast actually swept it away, the dagger slashed through the skin of the red-haired woman, leaving a large wound on her stomach –they were hand-to-hand combat, she of course considered the risk of it, but again, she didn’t care.

“And stay down” she hissed with her last forces, collapsing on the knees once again.

@lalamines , @heliacalrisings , @bxldrsdraumar

[lalamines]

Mercedes watches, stunned by what she sees before her. Gallant, proud warrior princess Minerva seems so caught up in the heat of battle that she can't hold back, can't resist the call of steel and thunder. Her instinct is to rush over, to try to calm the storm of blades but their illusory foes have other ideas. She finds herself flinging magic from the sword at the Peashooter before having to parry an attack from the Mad King. Her strike is true and he falls, seeming to dissolve into the scenery.

She wishes the aching of her arms was just as illusory. Sweat covers her brow and even with the aid of a horse, Mercedes finds herself out of breath.

Seliph and Minerva challenge the Wolf Rider and Mercedes has a moment to catch her breath and figure out her next actions. Her priority, as always, is taking care of her allies. Even though no real danger will be found here, she cannot ignore a friend in need.

"Minerva!" Was that too informal? Should she address her as professor instead? A conversation perhaps better left until later, when they'd had time to patch up their wounds and break bread together. "Excellent work! You're truly fearsome but I can't help but fuss. Please, allow me to heal you."

Close enough to cast Physic, Mercedes focuses her energy on her magic, hoping to relieve a little of the older woman's pain and exhaustion.

"You truly are valiant, Minerva. I wish I could be as brave as you."

One enemy remains on the field, one foe who could harm her new allies. Mercedes takes the hilt of Light Brand with both hands, resolve steeled. She has to try, no matter how lacking a fighter she knows herself to be. Urging her horse to charge forwards, she swings at the agile Peashooter that tries to run from her. But the edge of Light Brand slides through it's body, scattering the illusion into dust.

"I didn't think I could do that." Mercedes says, readjusting her grip. "I think we're a pretty effective team, don't you all?"

[virtuoustyrfing]

cosplay is love, cosplay is life

winter arena 2025: team 5 bronze round

[virtuoustyrfing]

The scenery suddenly shifts from stone walls to a verdant green field. Seliph almost expects it to be an endless field, but no, it ends at the treeline. (Thankfully, the skies are cloudy but not dark. Otherwise, he would be reminded of the lone vigil by a campfire.)

Knowing how these things go, enemies will appear at any moment...

"Incoming!" Seliph's shout signals the end to their wait.

From over the treeline, a giant bat-like beast appears. It is certainly not the strangest or most ferocious opponent Seliph has encountered over the years, but it is out of place next to the wyvern rider.

A split second passes before the realization that he is the archer in this situation hits him. Usually, he left the skies to archers and fliers among the ranks of the Liberation Army. Usually, he isn't wearing a purple archer's garb either. And admittedly, Seliph feels entirely out of his element as his hand fumbles for an arrow. Nervous and a little self-conscious to boot, too, because his father is right there—the man who undoubtedly expects greatness from his son.

At least Seliph has no trouble letting the arrow loose or aiming at the flying beast. With a screech, it plummets to the ground.

Even if it is not dead, it won't be able to take flight with an arrow in its wing.

"Don't mind the fliers, I will cover for you!"

@heliacalrisings, @reddragonprincess, @bxldrsdraumar & @lalamines!

[reddragonprincess]

The moment for introductions has quickly faded as the Macedon princess found herself in the battlefield, among trees and a thick vegetation: she was used to arid and desertic zone, but she didn’t mind the greenery fields as well –especially when there were enemies awaiting for her.

She cast a quick glance, she spotted her allies, the same faces she shortly before met and briefly acquainted, but those weren’t the only figures presented in the area: scattered in the area, there were strange shapes, most of them humanoid, but one for sure caught the princess’ attention –a plant? Minerva wasn’t sure and the strange enemy strolled in her direction, a menacing weapon pointed at her, meaning one sole thing: that was her target.

With a smirk, the red-haired woman approached the figure with no fear at all, even ignoring the fact that she actually wasn’t wielding an axe or a lance, but… a tome. Yes, a tome, a magic spell, and she was going to cast the spell at close range, like she was used to fight, as always. But… would it be effective at all? She shrugged off the thoughts from her head, hand ready to bring the tome to action and as few meters were closing the gap between the two of them… she failed. The book slipped from her fingers and when she tried to recover the tome from the ground, the plant-looking enemy shot some pellets in her direction, but luckily for her, the damage was completely avoided due to her magic resistant clothes.

“A mere struck of luck” she hissed as she outdistanced herself from the creature. Fortunately, one of the young man managed to deal some damage to one of the enemy and the woman noticed with the corner of the eye the flying enemy getting worsened and hitting the ground.

“Let’s go team, take them down!”

@virtuoustyrfing , @heliacalrisings , @bxldrsdraumar , @lalamines

[lalamines]

Mercedes sits atop her horse, one hand balled into a fist tightly around the reins, the other wrapped around an unfamiliar blade. It has the same name as a weapon mentioned by Leif when they were trapped in the mirror world, though it's form was quite different then. Mercedes is unused to handling swords, though she remembers Leif firing it from afar, similar to a tome. Perhaps this sword will do the same, allowing her to channel her mastery of magic in place of mastery with the blade.

"I-- I'll do my best!" Mercedes responds to Minerva, though her voice belies her uncertainty as it cracks slightly. "Please, come my way if any of you get injured. I know this illusion is safe but no one should suffer unnecessarily. I'm a more competent healer than swordswoman!"

It's not a lie but she tries to make light of her inexperience as she urges her horse to challenge the dragon rider. She could only do her best but she'd also never learn without practice. Her grip on the sword's hilt is overly tight as she lifts it in the air, channelling magic through the blade and praying she hits her mark. It may be a training exercise but Mercedes would hate to be a deadweight.

An arc of light magic surges forth, hitting the Mad King straight in the chest. He topples, falling from the dragon which dissipates back into the illusion before his body hits the ground. Mercedes blinks twice.

"Oh my, I didn't expect that to happen!" She giggles, a grin on her face. "I think that was just beginner's luck, but at least we have one less enemy to worry about for now."

@heliacalrisings @bxldrsdraumar

[lalamines]

"Forgive me the intrusion," Harken starts, "I'm unsure how much you remember, and...perhaps this is out of line regardless..." But he was here now, and it would seem more odd to approach and then leave without doing what he came here to.

"Though it was brief, we were...a part of the same group that went into the mirror." That was one way to describe it. "We did a little training together, and I...I wanted to ask if you would be willing to show me more of your healing magic?"

"Why wouldn't your hands be able to provide succor?" she had asked him then, when he had doubted his own ability to provide any healing or comfort, even though it was not entirely her.

Was it right to ask for guidance from her, when it was not fully her he had asked to begin with?

He was just...so tired. Tired of being capable of little else with his hands but bloodshed. His hands would never be clean, but only he had the power to choose if more blood would be added to them or not.

Mercedes would hardly consider it an intrusion, her door is always open to residents of the monastery who need a patient ear or simply want a cup of tea and easygoing company. Her guests are usually fellow students but she sees no reason to turn anyone away, especially on a calm, weekend afternoon. Though when she opens the door, her breath catches in her throat.

Such kind eyes, tired but gentle, stare back.

Her second betrayal in the mirror world was far more sinister than a simple change of allegiance. Whilst others branded her untrustworthy, a traitor, Harken had reached out. Trained with her, talked with her openly without concerns from the whispers that followed her and the vipers waiting to strike. He had trusted her and she too had opened her heart to him.

Then she'd forgotten him completely. So utterly that if someone had mentioned his name, it would have been meaningless to her. Mercedes had charged into battle alongside the others from Haven without even questioning what had happened to their amiable, steadfast knight.

"Harken! I'm so sorry, I can't forgive myself for forgetting but I remember everything now." Mercedes throws her door open, inviting him in to take a seat. Her eyes dart over to the teapot, making her way over to start boiling the water. "I'm still so grateful for your kindness, Sir Harken. Those were... difficult and confusing times for me but you were a bright candle in the dark."

"I would be more than happy to show you. Honestly, my heart is glad that you want to learn. I dare say it would suit you, actually," Mercedes says happily, gently tending the flame beneath the teapot. "Would you like to pick a blend? We could chat about your goals over a nice warm cup."

"The world could always do with more people willing to both defend and heal those in need. I know we haven't known one another long but in the time I've known you, I've seen nothing but kindness and mercy in your heart." Powder blue eyes meet warm brown and Mercedes smiles brightly. "Be prepared for a learning curve but I'm sure if you work at it, the sky's the limit for you, my dear friend."

[lalamines]

kiss kiss fall in frog

“Would you still love me if I was a worm” is a deathly overrated question. Now, what about that same question but if you were a frog? Unable to explain the how or why, you wake up in your bed not only incredibly small, but very, very green. Luckily, a few stories about this have already circulated the monastery libraries, leading you to believe that this is someone’s twisted idea of a joke. With no certainty over how long your ribbiting predicament will last, however, solutions are a must. In accordance with popular trend, only True Love’s First kiss can solve this issue, so that means you’ll be kissing around. In the meanwhile, it can be hard to grapple with the seeming permanence. Come to grips with it, seek out the succor of your fated Prince/Princess, or despair at the cost. [Grants Faith +1]

[lalamines]

Under the shade of an oak tree, Mercedes sits upon a cotton blanket, rifling through the pages of a fantastical tale. The sun is mellow and gentle in the azure sky today and with no classes or chores left to attend to Mercedes chooses to indulge in the age old pleasure of a good book. Romantic tales of princesses and gallant lady knights enrapture her attention in the lazy afternoon haze. She's inching closer and closer to the thrilling finale when someone disturbs her.

At first, she's certain it's a person's voice calling her name. So Mercedes tucks her lavender pressed bookmark between the pages, ready to greet whoever is in need of her company.

Yet there's no one around. She can hear chatter in the distance, of course, she's sat not too far from the monastery's dining hall. But there's no one..

Was that a cry of "help me"?

The sound is garbled, low rumbling bass and frankly, otherworldly. Her eyebrows knit together as she scans the area around her, then the skies, before turning her gaze to the ground.

A frog. A frog with odd red markings stares at her and if she didn't know any better, she'd swear it looked furious. It croaks once more though this time all she hears is, predictably, 'ribbit'. Then it stomps its feet, demanding her attention.

"Do you need my help?" Mercedes asks softly, offering out her hand. The frog hops on and she wonders what kind of help she can offer a frog. All she knows is that she doesn't expect an answer but the frog continues to trill and croak at her, as if trying to speak. "Hmm, perhaps we should head to the library? I'm sure someone has written a book of spells to aid with animal communication..."

@duchaisruin

[duchaisruin]

ghosts that linger without corpses

toa pearlescent ◈ bloodline information + servants ┊ lalamines ( any skill ) + 1

[duchaisruin]

The dull sky hovered above the port. Pricey drugs, stolen weapons, and other wonderful goods were swapped amongst the seedy crowd while Miklan stepped off the boat.

20 Gold: PEARSHOALS, BLACKMAIL—Scorpion Gang. The crushed note curved upwards in his fist. Everything was deficit in Abyss, especially money. The brigand wasn't eager playing errand boy. With light pockets and between accepting a mission from Mach fanatics or accepting a few jobs, Miklan carried the lighter burden. He craned his neck. Bones popped back into the right place (hopefully not the wrong ones). Being crushed between splintered crates and cobwebs wasn't the easy trip they boasted about. Miklan yanked his hood down as he weaved towards the main street.

@lalamines

[lalamines]

The streets of Pearl Shoals are a painted watercolour, mostly grey and miserable as the wind howls and rain pours down. Flashes of muted colours pass Mercedes by, a faded blue dress, mulched leaves on the ground. She keeps her head down, scarf tied around her her as she clasps Viscount Lochin's shopping list tightly in hand. The woman had failed to recognise her, looked through Mercedes as though she wasn't worth the time and effort.

It suited her better that way, really. Blending in to the background. A common housemaid might go largely unnoticed by those paying her wages but she heard everything.

Most of it was idle gossip. It mattered not to her if the Viscount was having and affair with Baron Gillingr, or indeed if Viscount Hymir had sired a bastard child with a woman of common birth. Frankly, Mercedes would have probably walked out on the first day, preferring to earn coin serving those who deserved aid, if it hadn't been for the whispers of House Bartels.

She makes her way to the store, still reeling from the rumours of an heir to her old House. A House that had, at least to her own knowledge, been eradicated three years prior. With Emile's disappearance and herself seeking refuge in the kingdom...

Mercedes didn't dare hope her brother was alive and well. Returning to the family home like a prodigal son. Goddess, did she want to hope though.

Whilst saying her private prayers she crashes straight into someone. A man, solidly built. Mercedes is about to offer her profuse apologies - she really should have been more careful. When she looks up at the man's face, however, periwinkle eyes turn to ice.

"You really should watch where you're going, Gautier," Mercedes hisses, straightening her back and folding her arms across her chest. She doubts there's a single person, at least currently alive that she'd least like to see. Especially on a day like today. "I thought you considered mixing with commoners above you."

Mercedes knows it's a petty jab. Completely unnecessary. That it would be best just to brush past him and carry on with her day. She doesn't have time to waste on anything that won't get her closer to the Bartels' heir. So she pulls her cloak closer to herself and tries to push past him.

"Nevermind. Forget it, Miklan. I have more important things to do than exchange barbed words with you."

[lalamines]

alexa play busted crashed the wedding

The month after the Ethereal Moon is often reputed as the most romantic of all the months, so many plan weddings under the belief that their union will be blessed with longevity and good fortune by the goddess herself. A high profile wedding between a young Miss Saoirse Elidure and a mysterious Yuliy of Kupala, supposedly a long-lost Almyran prince, is set to be held this month and the bride and groom are in desperate need of bodyguards. They’re reluctant to give up specific details, but both of them believe that someone, perhaps many people will object to their union and come to crash it. Violently. [Grants Sword +1]

[egittae]

He had been selected because he was tall and looked strong.

Or at least that’s what he was told before being quickly ushered towards the venue, given a properly fitting armor as well as a sword resting sheathed by his side. Lambert was well aware of his stature and while he wasn’t a hulking wall of muscle, it was visible enough that he was capable in battle. He just didn’t expect to be picked out of all Knights of Seiros to be a party bouncer, that’s all. The armor was a lovely light shade, matching the colors of the wedding even (which he found sort of gaudy but that could stay between him and the Goddess), but the weapon choice felt more like he was given a sword for aesthetics and less for effectiveness.

All that complaining was done in his head, of course. Materializing as a deep sigh as he walked closer to the spot he’d be guarding for the duration of the ceremony, unsheathed the sword and stood guard.

Until someone poked his shoulder- earning a surprised blink from the man. “Ah, you must be the fellow I will be realizing this mission with. Nice to meet you, Mercedes.” The professor then smiled, offering a hand in greeting. “You may call me Lambert. Let us see…” Before any more pleasantries could be exchanged though, a quick glance at the girl’s positioning and…yeeeeeeah it was sort of off. Maybe that was an understatement- but he didn’t wish to embarrass her on the spot and successfully hid any hints of shock that might have manifested in his features, replacing them with a light smile instead. 

“Your hold on the hilt is stiff, it will put too much strain on your wrists and give your slashes an awkward and shaky angle your enemies could exploit.” A gloved hand reached gently towards her hands to nudge them into the right position, retreating with a satisfied nod. “Aha, I can tell you are a mage- your stance reminds me more of a healer wielding a staff or a tome” The teasing was light, not meant to be a jab as he repositioned his legs in an attempt to show her how she could carry herself more effectively. “If you keep your back straight as well as your shoulders and knees flexed, it will be harder for your opponent to knock you back or off center.”

After eyeing her more carefully, icy pools widened in slight surprise. “Oh, you are from the Blue Lions, are you not?”

@lalamines

[lalamines]

"Lambert," Mercedes tests the name on her tongue, recognising it's significance immediately. Faerghus' late King surely inspired many parents to choose such a name. It should not be a surprise yet the similarities between this man and Prince Dimitri are hard for her to ignore. With great effort, she tears her gaze away from his face and to her hands, gripping the hilt of her sword. "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir. I do hope I can be helpful today."

His hands reach her wrists and she loosens her grip, allowing him to adjust her hold. When he steps back she watches his movements carefully, the light jest about her skills as a mage not even registering until the time for laughter had already long passed. A long, deep breath makes it easier for her to realign her back as she tries to copy the way his legs part, knees and shoulders along the same plane. It's hard work, Mercedes can feel her muscles straining just from holding the stance, but she thinks at the very least that it's an improvement.

Tentatively, she swings her wrist around, smiling at the increased range of motion. Whilst she's still far from reaching expertise, she should be able to better defend herself now. Which would make her less of a burden on Lambert.

"How's this? I know I have a long way to go still but..." before she can finish her sentence, he asks about the Blue Lions. Attention diverted, Mercedes finds herself smiling as she responds. "Oh yes, I am! I joined this year with my best friend Annie, we met at the School of Sorcery."

"Everyone has been so kind and welcoming. I was a little worried because I'm a touch older than the other students. Did you ever attend the academy, sir?"

@egittae

[lalamines]

how about a twirl?

[classybrawler]

As she continues to listen intently to what her companion says, Panette comes to a realization; Mercedes is so very kind to her it is almost overwhelming. At the very least, it makes her more determined to remain on her best behaviour whilst she’s here, not even just to represent Solm, but to not disappoint such a lovely person.

Carefully, as if worried she’s making a blunder, she takes one of the cream cakes from Mercedes’ plate and tries it for herself. She gives a hum of approval; they’re some real good cakes.

“I suppose you are right; nay, from experience I do quite know you are right about finding friends. Indubitably, there is evidence of this standing right before me” She gives Mercedes a wide smile. “No doubt, I shall eventually find like-minded, equally charming people here.” She pauses, hesitating on whether to speak more on what she wishes. It is scary, but worst case scenario, if Mercedes turns out to somehow be a master manipulator who she should not have divulged information to, that will be a lesson in of itself.

“I am still anxious, however. Truth be told, it is somewhat of a different beast than homesickness for me. Solm is a beautiful country that I truly adore with all my heart. And the boss, she has helped me a lot in becoming… the best version of myself I can be. And I am grateful for it every day. But being her retainer, and being here now; I did not realize until I arrived here just how much I represent Solm as a whole. And having not always been quite as charming as I am now” She lets out a laugh to try and ease the tension she’s feeling, though it comes out shaky. “I am quite petrified of slipping up somehow and sullying my country’s name.” Finally managing to get the words out, she takes a deep breath, both to calm herself, and because her speech has caused her to get quite winded. She takes another breath, and gives a small smile to Mercedes.

“I am sure I shall be fine as things progress, this fear of mine shall become naught more than a thing of the past. For now, I suppose I shall have to do it scared.” She lets out a nervous laugh. “If it is not too much, would you be willing to share some of your memories of this land? Or at the least, of Fódlan as a whole. I give you my sworn promise as retainer to the Bo- I mean, Princess Timerra of Solm, that when I am more settled in, I shall happily share more of my home land.”

[lalamines]

With a soft, reassuring smile, Mercedes listens to Panette speak, nodding along in understanding, though not always agreement. After all, how could someone so polite and sweet sully Solm's reputation? The very though seemed absurd to Mercedes, sure instead that Panette was simply the epitome of modesty.

"I don't think you have anything to worry about, Panette. Maybe picking up new customs is a bit of a learning curve, though I'd say your manners are excellent." Mercedes pauses, thinking through her words carefully. "But even if you were struggling, I think anyone whose opinion is worth anything would see your efforts and good character. The fact you care so much alone speaks volumes."

"If anyone does give you any bother, please let me know. You ought to be welcomed to Fodlan warmly!"

The next question gives her pause. There's much she'd be happy to share with Panette and just as much she'd rather not dwell on even in the peace and quiet of her own mind. Painful times that she'd rather not burden her new friend with. How best to be honest without scaring the woman off with stories that likely would never concern her anyway, without a crest.

"Hmm, when I was much younger, my brother, my friend Constance and I used to play in the rose gardens of her family's home. I have rather fond memories of tending to them both, prickled with thorns because they thought it was the perfect place to play hide and seek," Mercedes says with a wistful smile. She'd never wish to go back to House Bartels but even in the darkness, there was always shimmering starlight. "When my mother and I had to leave, we ended up in the Kingdom. We had no money, no food, just the clothes on our backs and a necklace passed through my mother's family. I can't lie, those were quite scary times, though the local church took us in without question. Even though we didn't have much, we were safe and fed, surrounded by hard-working people who simply wished to help others."

"That's when I started studying faith magic, to become a better healer. I was eventually adopted by a merchant in Fhirdiad. I attended the School of Sorcery there last year where I met my friend Annie." Mercedes face breaks into a huge smile as she speaks, genuine, raw joy. A true friend was a treasure beyond words, irreplaceable and indescribable. "She accepted me as a friend despite the fact I'm a little older. I don't think I'd have settled in so comfortably without her. Oh, you should join us for a tea party at the monastery! We always have the best cakes, though if you'd prefer other snacks you're more than welcome to bring them."

[javeliins]

well-armed peasants.

anniversary 2025 | axe +1 ft. mercedes

[javeliins]

“You think I’m hitting too hard with the hammer?”

A cheerful event twists sour as Leonie hoists the wooden mallet over her shoulders, expression darkening with a glare. The poor student before her dons a similar expression as they clutch their hand, fingers red from where Leonie had accidentally stricken them. 

“You’re the one who isn’t following the rhythm that they set for us! I’m using a perfectly acceptable strength—- No, I’m not trying to hit you on purpose! Why would I do that?!” The two’s argument escalates as the student rises, barrages Leonie with their own grievances. “If you don’t want to do this, then stop whining and leave!” 

Her partner does exactly that, though not without venomous critique about Leonie’s conduct. She watches them leave, nose scrunching, then sighs and puts her mallet down. Her shoulders slump. 

Ever since they came back from the mission, there’s been something so weird about her. She’s been— well, pretty aggressive. According to her peers, anyway. Leonie knows she’s a natural hothead, but she never believed herself to be this bad. Maybe she’s gotten a bit too excited about bettering herself; she knows how badly obsessive she can be about things. While she ruminates on her thought, a nearby figure approaches and Leonie’s drawn out of contemplation.

“Mercedes! Hey— Over here!” She exclaimed, waving eagerly. Clutching the mallet again, she practically rushes towards her fellow student. “Are you here to make some mochi too!?” Leonie’s about to propose for Mercedes to be her partner, when the last argument with her previous teammate ricochets back into her mind. She lowers the mallet, then offers it to Mercedes. 

“I heard you can get develop some crazy arm muscles if you pound enough mochis with this.” Leonie says instead with a mellow smile. “My last partner kinda, uh, left me a few seconds ago, so if you want someone to practice with….” Her voice trails off awkwardly, unsure if Mercedes would want to work with her. “I don’t mind mixing the dough for you and all. I promise I won’t hurt your hands, since I’m mixing the mochi and you’ll be hitting it!” 

you can trust me, @lalamines !

[lalamines]

Shame had overcome Mercedes since her mission to the mirror world. So far, at least, she’d managed to deftly avoid those who once belonged to Haven or Argent. Pushed the memories down as she went about her days at Garreg Mach, no longer branded a traitor at every turn. Mercedes knew she couldn’t run and hide forever, though she hadn’t expected to see a familiar face quite so soon.

Leonie shines golden like a sunrise, so bright and vibrant that Mercedes has to resist the urge to look away. Leonie, who had been so welcoming and warm. Leonie who hadn’t judged her for abandoning Argent, had fought by her side without hesitation, without watching her every move.

It’s tempting to turn away, leave and pretend she hadn’t seen or heard her. But the cinnamon warmth of Leonie’s voice draws her in. Mercedes schools her face into a gentle smile and waves back as she meets Leonie in the middle.

“Leonie, how are you? I uh—“ it wasn’t like her to get tongue-tied, usually so prepared and composed. A blush dusts her cheeks. “It’s lovely to see you again, truly”

She’s startled by how sincere those words are, despite how avoidant she’d acted for the past few weeks. Mercedes listens eagerly, though she can’t help but grimace as Leonie discusses working out their arm muscles. Exercise - her true nemesis. Something she’d normally avoid at all costs but the temptation of sweet delights at the end of the hard work had drawn her in.

“Are you absolutely sure you don’t want to handle the mallet? I could hurt your fingers just as easily, you know.” Though even Mercedes isn’t quite convinced. Sure, she might just as easily miss her target but she’s seen Leonie in a fight. Admires the younger woman’s physical strength and prowess. “I’m a little nervous… maybe we can take it turns? If either of us get hurt I can fix it in a jiffy.”

She accepts the mallet in her right hand, still warm from Leonie’s hands. There’s something strangely comforting about that.

“It’s their loss, I’m sure you’re a wonderful partner. You always had my back when…” Mercedes decides not to finish that thought. Knows that she doesn’t need to linger on it. Instead she adjusts her grip on the mallet and grins. “Alright, I’m ready whenever you are, Leonie.”

@javeliins

[sanakialtina]

doomsday.

Anamorphosis 2025 - Team Scepter, Week 3: HAVEN.

[diadic]

    “ You shot with it fine earlier, didn't you, Mercedes? ”  Leif counters at her suggestion, taking her entirely seriously.  “ That enemy was just fast. Besides... your weapon looks pretty fancy. ”

In the times Leif's gone to do training at Haven's HQ, he feels like he's gotten a pretty decent handle on identifying different firearms in this world at least. The way people marveled at his he can imagine they would do the same for what Mercedes has.

Leif 5/10HP moves 2 Right, 3 Down, uses Foul Play, and waits.

“ It might be that most of us can't use it to its full potential either, if it's binded to your system like mine is. ”  A weapon that calls only for one person can be a truth found in any world, he supposes. He mulls it over as the group follows Luz's lead, Leif checking on Wynn's state silently as he does so.  “ That weapon calls for you, so I think you should own it. If we're together, we'll adapt to our misfires. ”

At that moment, Sanaki rushes him by, taunting. So fancy boots were also the same in any world too, huh? But the other thing...

Was it like a Crusader Scroll? Or was it just a toy?

He chases after her, as she requests.  “ Wait...! Sanaki, can you tell me what that does? ”

[lalamines]

Oops. It seems their wires had gotten a little crossed. Mercedes can't help but start giggling as she follows the others, lighthearted laughter without a hint of malice behind it.

"Oh dear, I'm very sorry for the confusion Leif. I meant the shot, not my weapon," it's strange to be laughing on a battlefield but with their foes neutralised and unable to attack, it felt like a weight off her shoulders. Despite her defection, she took no joy in fighting Argent's agents. Took no joy in fighting, period. Any bloodshed that could be avoided was always something to celebrate in her opinion. "Though there's nothing to be gained fighting people who can no longer fight back, so that's moot now too. Oh, but thank you, you're very kind! I promise to do my best, for all of you."

She walks up behind Leonie, gently placing a hand on the younger woman's shoulder. "Please don't take this the wrong way but you look so tired. Let me help with that!"

Mercedes 10/10 HP casts Recover on Leonie 6/12 HP, Roll: 13! +6 HP restored. Leonie has 12/12 HP remaining!

"Oh, those heeleys are cute! May I?" She asks, not nearly bold enough to simply take them for herself. Though Mercedes has to admire Leonie's straight-forward way of being, it doesn't come easily to her. Besides, unlike the Shock weapon she took from Sephiran, both of them could make use of these shoes. "It looks like they're my size too."

@thelightofcreation

[sanakialtina]

doomsday.

Anamorphosis 2025 - Team Scepter, Week 3: HAVEN.

[javeliins]

Everything hurts. 

Ribcage cartilage creaks as she takes a shallow breath, diaphragm stuttering. The world vehemently spins as her consciousness wanes— in, out, in– as residual energy from the enemy’s rhonburst fizzes from her veins. Leonie blinks hard as she tries to ward away the white specks in her otherwise pitch-black vision. It’s as if her ears were filled with cotton, the way her head swarms and splinters, branches of consciousness close yet intangible, beckoning yet fraying in her reach. Sentences weave around her, threads flowing and entwining, whispers of a past, present, and future—

…

“...promise I won’t disappoint you all! I’ll show you…”  ...I can’t just sit and wait when… “..living up to be a legendary mercenary–” ..born with bionsis for a reason– “--- I can’t let their goodwill go to waste!!”  -- I won’t let this talent go to waste!!

…

 Warmth illuminates in her chest. It spreads, hushing fraying nerves and screaming limbs into a soft whisper. Inky splotches of her vision trickle away as the reassuring hum grows, until her wounds are no longer burning.

Leonie sees the distressed expression of Sanaki, her hand outreached. 

("We’ll all make it back home, together.")

She takes Sanaki’s hand and rises shakily. Her hands still faintly tingle, the back of her tongue bitter as nausea curls in her stomach, reminiscent of mana-poisoning. It makes sense; the enemy’s rhonburst was overwhelmingly powerful. A late-blooming Bion like herself shouldn’t have survived the onslaught, a bionsis overdose. 

“Thank you,” she says to Sanaki, breathless as the girl shouts something, then lunges back to action. Leonie takes a moment to let her stomach settle, breathing deeply as she pushes back her sweat-drenched fringe. 

She can’t make any more novice mistakes on the battlefield; a split-second decision could– and nearly did— cost her life. 

Leonie hears the call for a regroup. She grabs her pistol, ready for action, and sprints to where she sees her comrades. The battlefield’s changed in the minutes she’s spent unconscious; enemy numbers have drastically dwindled. More importantly, the pink-haired woman who charged at her lays draped over Leif’s back. Leonie stares wordlessly, nerves on overdrive as her fingers twitch at her holster. She doesn’t know who that woman is, but—! 

“ What was it you three went to find while you were split off from us? Did you find it in the end??”

She blinks at Leif. Her eyes darted back to the unconscious captive, then back to her doe-eyed companion. 

“Luz found some loot,” Leonie informs, gesturing at the bloodied boots tangled around her uniform belt. “My boots are still good, so if anyone else wants to change theirs…” Her voice trails as she examines the teammates around her, vision stopping at Sephiran. She’s about to express her gratitude when something exquisite catches her attention: a rifle with a long, beautifully rectangular chamber. Yellow lights emit from its side, stray sparks crackling threateningly across the expanse. Leonie nearly squeals as she speeds over. 

“SEPHIRAN, CAN I HAVE THAT!? It’s just what I need— Thank you sooooo much!!!” She hardly gives the older man time to react as she excitedly pries it off of his back, then experimentally waves it around. With the length of this rifle, she can definitely throw off enemies who lunge at her directly. “Oh this is soooo much better than the pistol— Who am I shooting at next?!” She points it around enthusiastically— At the pillar, at the fallen knight at her feet, at the pink-haired girl over Leif’s shoulder whilst his back’s turned, then at the bishop she sees eyeing them from a distance.

“Found one.”

Leonie 6/12HP moves 4, takes Shockstick from Sephiran, and waits.

[lalamines]

"Be careful with that, Leonie," Mercedes admonishes but her tone is light and airy - teasing and simply relieved that Leonie is back, not just ready to fight but still as bright and vibrant as ever. She allows herself a short but sweet laugh, grateful to see her ally... or perhaps, maybe and hopefully, friend, in such high spirits. "Wouldn't want to be caught up in friendly fire now, would we?"

From her position she's still just outside of the Knight's range, though he's still in her sights. Cocking her gun, Mercedes prepares to open fire, knowing she's safe from a counterattack. Unfortunately, the Knight is agile and quick, bolstered by the Bishop's support. She takes the shot anyway, assured in the knowledge that she's at least at a safe distance. Her gun fires, just as the Knight deftly steps aside.

Mercedes 10/10 HP attacks Knight 4 7.55/10 HP with Ichor Scroll. Roll d20: 3. Miss

With a groan of frustration, she turns to her allies.

"Sorry about that... maybe someone with better aim can take this one?"

[sanakialtina]

doomsday.

Anamorphosis 2025 - Team Scepter, Week 3: HAVEN.

[diadic]

    “ You... You're the... I've heard about you. ”  As Haven's side fights their way into the cavern, Argent's Queen finds herself cornered by Haven's own Luz. Wynn takes a hesitant step back, the color draining from her face upon realizing the most likely fate that looks her in the eye now.

“ Small fry like you aren't normally worth my effort to hunt. ”  The poison green Luz is cloaked in burns higher and brighter, and Luz's lips split in an eerie grin.  “ But a Queen's always a tasty treat, no matter how wet behind the ears ~ ”

“ ...you sound just like... ...Nevermind. Just— make it quick. ”  

Before any of her allies can think to act, Luz's grin is a wild thing in the girl's face. Wynn screams, but it doesn't save her. Ethereal claws dig in deep, hooking and dragging, tearing as they go. The screams escalate; she starts to thrash, half-sobbing, half-pleading as blood pours across the rocky dirt. Whatever death she'd envisioned, she'd had the naivete to hope it'd be painless. a powerful hand slams her into the wall of the cavern, squeezing hard around the windpipe. 

“ If Argent wants to play eye for an eye... then fair's only fair. ”

But it's at that moment, drawn by one scream after another, Leif propels himself through the cavern, riding the strength Sephiran's fortify enables him. He rides that surge much as he rides the surge of desperation, remembering Leonie's shriek, remembering just like Sephiran the magic blast that hadn't been countered, remembering the silence on the communications system.

One by one, people fall like dominoes, and Leif urges himself to find the power to stand and find all those he cannot account for. He soon finds Wynn ready to join those numbers of the fallen, suspended against the cavern wall by Luz's vice grip, the faint sight of tear streaks on Argent's Queen.

He's not sure if he's imagining it, connecting the dots from the sobbing he heard earlier, but he hedges his bets and pursues it nonetheless, barking to his fellow operative.

“ Luz! Ease up! I want to interrogate that woman!! ”

Luz's grin fades slightly, the woman sighing before she releases her prey. Wynn slumps to the ground, whimpering in agony as her hands clutch at her bloodied torso.

“ Always coming in to ruin the fun... ”

“ I don't— know anything... I... No one tells me anything... ”  Wynn gasps out between gritted sobs, head bowed and features twisted in pain.  “ Just kill me and make it quick. ”

“ So you are the one who was crying... ”  Suspicion confirmed, Leif gains his second wind as he stares Wynn down.  “ Tell me, if you feel so alone, do you have anything left to fight for? What is it you wish for? ”

His hand is ready on his weapon even as he asks.

“ Are you only here because of your power? Would you be happier without it? ”

“ ...I— I... don't know... I don't know... ”  she whimpers as she's put on the spot, unsure how to answer and in pain. Her voice breaks piteously. Leif has met many types of fighters on the battlefield, many who fight because of some misplaced 'expectation,' some who fight battles they do not wish to protect those who cannot protect themselves, and some who have been led to live a lie.

But Wynn, left completely in the dark, brought to a battlefield until she is sobbing for it does not feel like one he can permit to keep there.

“ ...If you don't know, then I'll help you find your way!! ”

Leif 8.5/10HP moves 1 Left, 2 Up, and hits Wynn 5.5/10HP with Ranged Light Brand [Roll: 16 + 4 + 4 = 24; 2.5 + 2 + 2 = -6.5HP, Wynn 0/10HP] Wynn is captured. Leif obtains Thoron! Rook 6 is released!

Bringing his pistol up, Leif fires a blast past the Knight that protects her and sends her body slamming against the cavern wall again. Before anyone else can think to act, he dashes forward, weaving under and around the other Argent operatives to make it there and reach Wynn's body on the brink of life and death. His hand stretches out, absorbing her bionsis and bringing it to him, depriving her of that which made her a Queen— what surely must have tethered her to this place, this fight.

And with the crackling of lightning newly in his fingertips and mind, even in this world, Leif rises and shouts an order to the Haven operatives— both newly rising and those already still standing:

“ Leave her be and concentrate on our other enemies! She has nothing left to fight with! ”

There's no guarantee anyone will believe him, but after seeing it happen twice now and feeling that transfer a third time, he's willing to stake his life on it, standing over Wynn's body the way he does now.

[lalamines]

Mercedes watches and waits as Sephiran brings Leonie and Sanaki back to their feet and Leif and Luz charge into the cave after Wynn. She took no joy in fighting Argent's operatives but the sheer desperation in the Queen's face and voice broke something in her heart. She was glad not to have to follow into the cave.

Instead she steps around Sephiran, pausing by his side. She looks up at the older gentleman with a soft smile on her face. "Thank you for taking care of us all, sir." Mercedes whispers, moving to block his right side. There she takes aim at the Bishop from a safe range.

Mercedes 10/10 HP attacks Bishop 4 8/8 HP with Ivaldi. Roll d20: 18! -2 HP. Bishop 4 has 6/8 HP remaining

Leif returns, Wynn in tow and she can't help but feel relieved that the woman is still alive. Neutralised but alive. It was obvious she was reluctant to fight them. Perhaps their doubts and circumstances were different but Mercedes couldn't help but sympathise with Wynn.

"Don't worry, Leif. I won't let any further harm come to her. I promise."

[sanakialtina]

doomsday.

Anamorphosis 2025 - Team Scepter, Week 3: HAVEN.

[thelightofcreation]

Blinking back to reality- reality, or merely another illusion? His mind supplies unhelpfully- is a slow endeavor, one marked by a murmured thanks as Sephiran blinks the battleground back into view, pushing himself painfully off the ground.

“… Right.” Information relayed, hurriedly, by those still in the thick of combat, a gentle hand placed on his savior’s with a smile. He is still a little unsteady, but there is no rest to be found here.

Knight 5 10/10HP misses Sephiran 4/10 HP with Shockstick [Roll 6, -0HP, Sephiran 4/10 HP]

(Defiant Magic triggers.) Sephiran 4/10 HP counters and crits Knight 5 10/10HP with Creiddylad [Roll: 19 - 6 = 13, 5.5 * 2 = -11HP, Knight 5 0/10HP] Knight 5 is defeated.

A shriek rings out through the tunnels, young and terrifyingly familiar. Leonie, whose view he cannot catch amongst the pillars- she must have gone ahead. An Argent operative sees his distraction and makes the mistake of attempting an attack, thinking perhaps of an easy kill- a choice painfully rebuked with a harsh retaliation.

Sephiran 4/10 HP moves 1 left and misses Knight 4 [Roll: 10 - 6 = 4].

The other knight is luckier, with Sephiran’s blow going wide.

[diadic]

     The cavern roars to life with activity again as Sephiran, Mercedes, and Leif contend with the foes blocking the entrance towards it. The sound of Leonie's scream, the telltale sign of something gone horribly wrong even if Leif cannot see it, throws his fighting senses into haywire.

Taking his Light Brand, he flicks it to its stunner mode and jabs it harshly into the Rook that had just been healed, letting the electricity pulse directly into the wounds that had almost healed but still had a little left to go.

The Rook shudders violently from it, blacking out and collapsing from the attack as Leif absorbs their bionsis into his system much like the first. 

Leif 8.5/10HP moves 1 Left, 1 Up, and crits Rook 6 5/6HP with Melee Light Brand. (Windsweep activates!) [Roll: 18 + 6 = 24; (2 + 2 + 1) x 2 = -10HP, Rook 6 0/6HP] Rook 6 is captured. Leif obtains Bolganone! Rook 7 is released!

It's much the same, this sense of deprivation and theft from another to disarm them from what makes them useful in battle. Perhaps it is a cruelty, in a world where Bions get their worth from what they can wield. Rooks already are so down the ladder compared to the Knights and Bishops above them, much less the Queens and Kings.

But one combatant unable to fight any longer is a good thing. This may be war, but these are still people, and if they can find their way after, if they can be prevented from causing trouble again, then perhaps stripping one of their powers was the call.

If they had the strength, if there was a world after war, there could be a way for them, Leif wants to believe.

The previous Rook he had stolen the abilities from rouses from their spot and confirms Leif's suspicions that they'd become nothing more than a sitting duck and flee from the battlefield. Leif rises then, a new surge of confidence.

“ Everyone, stick together!! ”  He tries to call out to those nearby him but also activate his communications system to reach Sanaki too.  “ We can break into that cave, but we'll need to storm it together to deal with whatever got Leonie! ”

He looks to Mercedes and Sephiran then.

“ We might need you two the most, especially if Leonie is unconscious in there. Can you keep one another alive when we push forward?? ”

[lalamines]

"Can do. Let's get to Leonie as soon as possible though," Mercedes replies, already moving into position beside Sephiran. Closer to the others, closer to Leonie who still awaits their aid. She checks her communication device, hoping it's still functional. "Sanaki, Luz, we're headed towards the cave as a team. We'll meet you there."

"Now, let's get you patched up properly, Sephiran."

Mercedes 10/10 HP casts Recover on Sephiran 4/10 HP. Roll d20: 11, + 6HP restored Sephiran has 10/10 HP remaining.

@sanakialtina

[sanakialtina]

doomsday.

Anamorphosis 2025 - Team Scepter, Week 3: HAVEN.

[diadic]

    “ Got it. ”  Leif replies to Sanaki's call through the communicators, though he's not sure how much it actually got through or how much he'll be able to count on it in the future of this fight. Getting it to work at all perfectly clearly like how it did prior feels more like a miracle to gamble on, but maybe some gambling is required.

But what he knows is maybe the two groups won't get too far apart from each other if they're interested in playing backup to one another at a moment's notice. With the large cluster of foes north and possibly more anywhere they just can't see yet, it might be necessary indeed to double back.

And indeed, the cluster comes to bite them, downing Sephiran before he knows it.

Horrified he might be, Leif doesn't let his shock shake him from aiming his gun and blasting the Rook down after Mercedes's own shot and call. 

Leif 6/10HP moves 4 Up, and hits Rook 7 3.5/6HP with Melee Light Brand [Roll: 7 - 2 = 5; 2 + 2 = -4HP, Rook 7 0/6HP] Leif heals from Light Brand [+3.5HP, Leif 9.5/10HP] Rook 7 is captured. Leif obtains Bolganone!

He goes down to the downed Rook and checks for their pulse, concerned it might not have been enough, only to be met with a surge of new power. As his wounds close themselves up, healing as he had expected, he also feels the new transmission of bionsis into his system— rising above the capabilities he'd been told he has as a mere Knight.

What?!

But there's not enough time to explain it. He'll just have to test it another time.

“ We can try to reach them through the comms, but Lucio said there's something down here that's messing with our mainframe, I think. Leonie, can you try to reach them? Mercedes and I'll try to back you up and get Sephiran out of there!! ”

[javeliins]

Leif and Mercedes are quick to join her. Leonie’s relieved as she sees their figures emerge from the shadows, their eyes lit with determination. She’s breathing hard, still standing on her two feet, blood dribbling from newfound wounds. An enemy rook managed to get the jump on her while she was scouting ahead. She held her own but Sephiran– A weary glance shifted eastwards. He wasn’t so lucky. 

Brilliant light dazzles the clearing, a sophisticated sight in juxtaposition to the gruesome wails of their fallen enemies. Amidst the commotion, Leonie hears another, unfamiliar voice booming from the cavern nearby: “HOLD THE LINE!” 

From the sharp whizzes of bullets and sizzle of magic, no one else hears the voice in the heat of battle. 

“I’ll try to regroup with Sanaki and Luz; if our communicators are down, they don’t know that the enemy’s bringing more reinforcements.” Leonie cocks her pistol, determined. “There’s more Argent combatants coming from the cavern–  Stay sharp you two and don’t let them get the jump on us– Let’s keep them distracted so they can’t fall back into formation!” 

She wastes no time as she surges west, in the direction where she once saw Sanaki and Luz. She keeps her gaze focused on any stray sightings of emerald flames; it’s not hard to know where Luz could be. 

Leonie 8/12HP moves 3 and Waits.

[thelightofcreation]

The woman with dark hair had asked when a battle would be his own, and he had responded with a question. In truth, as long as he remained on foreign shores did he continue to believe himself to have no part in the wars of the world he had found himself in, no matter how much of his heart he gave away.

Lehran, long forgotten, had been a simple creature- a battle was his as long as those he knew struggled within. And now, standing in the darkness, surrounded by people he could not even say were real, Sephiran wonders why he had deigned to rush ahead, a single answer dancing at the tip of his tongue-

1. ??? rallies ???. ??? gains ???.

2. (??? triggers.) ??? hits Sephiran 7.5/10 HP with ??? (??? triggers.) [Roll: 9 + 4 = 13, -3HP, Sephiran 4.5/10 HP]

Sephiran cannot counter.

(??? triggers.) ??? follows up and hits Sephiran 4.5/10 HP with ??? (??? triggers.) [Roll: 12 + 4 = 16, -3HP, Sephiran 1.5/10 HP]

3. ??? heals Rook 7 3.5/6HP with Physic. [Roll: 10, +4HP, Rook 7 6/6HP]

Pain.

He cannot tell what had hit him, and from whom, only that it had- from up head, one more that he should have been more wary of-

But why?

Is this not what he wanted? Scolding students for breaking off from the group and turning around to do the same because he could not see an end to conflict. That conflict was the very core of this prison, an endless war between two factions for no good reason, that even with the precious little time he had granted this world he still mourned for the people he could not see as equals.

Atonement locked him to war, and the only peace found here was-

4. Rook 7 6/6HP crits Sephiran 1.5/10 HP with Bolganone (Mantle activates!) [Roll: 20, -2.5HP, Sephiran 0/10 HP] Sephiran is downed.

Death.

For all he had fought against it, it welcomes him with open arms; yet he slips into its sister, sleep. If he had found himself more open to the stories the world had yet to tell, he would have found the dreams familiar in nature- and if he had the mind to remember, he would recall another aspect of his heritage he had never accessed.

In his dreams he watches as he has always watched; listening to the conversation between a woman with silver hair and two strangers- a man and a woman, who had left it all behind. He views them dispassionately, with a sense of pity and envy; they had chosen to leave it all behind, carve a future in the unknown.

What a pitiful existence, without a history. What a beautiful road ahead, without a past.

[lalamines]

Mercedes runs forward knowing the risk. The enemies numbers have been thinned a little, but most importantly, Sephiran cannot wait any longer. No matter the cost, she'll see her allies through this. Kneeling by his side, she once again checks his vitals. Too many times had she ignored this step, tried to revive a lost cause and someone else had paid the price for her folly. Today though? Someone is smiling down on them.

Mercedes casts Recover on Sephiran! Roll d20: 10, +4 HP recovered/ Sephiran has 4/10 HP remaining

"I'm sorry, sir. You deserve a rest but-- now is neither the time or place, sadly." Her hands remain, clutching his arms as he stands. She finds herself anxious to let go, even though she knows this much physical contact with an acquaintance might be considered unacceptable. Her own hands tremble. She cannot lose any of them. "I'm sorry for the disturbance but our allies need you, Sephiran."

"Let's give them no quarter."