#sp:sword

[delicatevalentine]

encaptivated » hilda & marianne

There’s been word of crumbling ruins, remnants of an old town and its gravesite becoming overgrown with strange greenery. Beautiful though its blooms may be, superstition and old maid’s tales have painted it as a beautifully haunting omen for a disaster to come. To that effect, the neighboring villages are too afraid to venture and clear it up, avoiding any and all routes that might cross it, and so have pleaded for aid from every passerby willing to help. As you enter the mouth of the ruins to dispel their needless fears, however, you find that these are no mere ruins. The vines close the entryway from which you came, and, looking ahead, you find that the ruins are, in fact, a huge maze. To make matters worse, the vines that now prevent you from leaving don’t seem to be content to stop there. All around you, the labyrinth shifts and changes; the walls move, the plants snake and snap. You and your companion must hack and cut your way through and find a way out, lest you intend to bury yourselves in a grave that never needs to beg for flowers. [Grants Sword +1]

The ruins rose imposingly towards the sky, haunting yet somehow still beautiful. Vines snaked their way around the stones, with tendrils inching their way into cracks and gaps over time, encircling the foundations entirely like an unhurried strangulation. It was so encaptivating to see that Hilda could almost forgive the professor who had assigned her this mission -- if it wasn’t for the minor detail that she was expected to venture in there. 

She didn’t believe in superstition or omens of disaster as the townspeople so clearly did, but the image in front of her was enough to make anybody doubt their rationality. Plus, the quiet surrounding them definitely felt unnatural.  

“Creepy,” she commented to her quiet blue-haired companion. 

When the professor had chosen Marianne to be her partner, she had been simultaneously resigned to the fact that it wouldn’t be the kind of mission where she could just sit back and let somebody else do all the work, and relieved that it at least wasn’t somebody annoying. She found the other girl fairly to easy to talk to -- or rather, at. 

“Looks almost haunted, right?” she continued, eyeing the silent rubble. She knew it was just her imagination running away from her, but she could have almost sworn she could see the vines growing. 

“I really don’t want to go in there.”

@cursedbluebird

[nagargent]

scions of the crusaders

One of the students has been hounding their peers to join their newest club, one where you “roleplay” a “hot myrmidon” on a quest to defeat a dragon, using dice to control the flow of combat. You may be familiar with tabletop versions of this game, but this student insists that “live action roleplaying” is the best way to do it, with costumes and props and all. Defeating a dragon? For some of you, that’s “been there, done that”! [Sword +1]

Julia isn’t quite sure she understands what is going on and the goals of this club they’re joining but seeing so many bright and cheerful faces makes her eager to get involved. With a lilac cape clasped around her shoulders and a light sundress and sandals replacing her sandals, her hands clasped an old Mend staff. Gazing up at Nanna, she smiles brightly in admiration.

“Nanna, you’ll make a wonderful myrmidon! The perfect hero!” Julia gushes. She feels far more confident alongside an old friend. Someone she knows and trusts - not just because of her prowess but because of Nanna’s kind and open heart. Her cheeks flush a little when she fumbles with the prop sword she’d made. It’s rough, something she put together last night after agreeing to come. A piece of cardboard topped with foil and a single coat of paint. “I um-- I made you a sword. I know it’s not very good but I suppose a swordmaster could clip a couple extra to their belt?”

As they enter the training grounds, borrowed for the day, Julia finds herself huddling closer to Nanna. Golden-haired princess of Hodr’s bloodline; the role of a hero fits her perfectly. The liveliness of their companions however reminds her of the festival of twelve. It had been such a joyous occasion, one where they had acted out grand battles from the past. She giggles, softly.

“Hehe, do you remember the festival we attended? You were wonderful as the Crusdaer Hodr,” she whispers gleefully. Cautiously, Julia reaches out and squeezes Nanna’s hand. “I’m sure you’ll make a wonderful hero today. I’m glad to be at your service, my fair lady!”

@einjelique

[amitieos]

after the storm

The rain came down so suddenly that none of you manage to get your umbrellas open in time… But since your gear is drenched and your clothing unsalvageable, you decide to have a little ‘sparring’ in the rain. You smack the other umbrella with yours and grin. En garde! [Grants Sword +1]

Her partner, friend, likely could tell that something was wrong with Elincia. She and Hana walked in near total silence, the clouds darkening above them reflecting the young queen’s mood. What on earth was there to say? ‘Sorry for killing you, my bad?’ How sickeningly trite! There just weren’t enough words in the world to express how guilty Elincia felt. Hana was a dear friend of hers and everytime she closed her eyes, she saw Hana fall. Saw Rion lift the illusion, their allies battered and bruised and Hana, dead.

The heavens opened suddenly, drenching them in an instant. A sob, cracked and splintered escaped her lips, followed by another, and another.

She was crying.

Hana stopped and turned to look at her. Goodness, it probably looked like she was crying over the weather. Deep down, Elincia wished that were true. That could be fixed with an umbrella. (Okay, it was a little too late to open their umbrellas now.) She cursed herself, her sins couldn’t be washed away by a sudden downpour. Tyranny’s stain burns in her mind even now, branding her with guilt.

“I-I’m so-- hic -- so s-sorry, Hana.” she managed to choke out, around her cries. How pathetic she was, caught in the rain like a lost lamb. Terrified and weak. “I never-- never wanted to hurt you. I’m so sorry, I can’t take back what I’ve done--” She descended into a flurry of sobs once more. She thought of her friend, cut down by her blade. A weight around her neck - a trip to the gallows. She deserved nothing less. What a fool she’d been, how easily manipulated, tricked into doing that demon’s dirty work. “All I see in the dark is you dead. Dead by my hands!”

Neither tyranny’s stain nor the bloodstains - Hana’s blood - would wash away in the storm.

@sheerloyalty​

[hezulion]

child’s play

The ringleader charged at him with a scream, sword raised to strike him down. He blocked the blow easily with a wooden training sword. Mystletainn rested upon his hip, sheathed because this was not battle but play time for the orphans around the monastery.

“You need to lift your sword arm higher if you want to strike at me,” Ares said with just a hint of a proud smile tugging at his lips. “Your footwork and angles are remarkable though, let’s try it once more.”

Essie, the girl who asked him to play the Nemesis to her Seiros picked her sword off the ground again. The other children cheered her on as she prepared her stance and hoisted the sword higher before running at him, swinging her blade. It caught his and he stumbled back to encourage her.

“Much better, if this were a real battle you should continue the assault,” he was so impressed with her and she looked so proud of herself. Her face was alight with joy and he reached out, patting her head. “If you’re playing though, make sure to back off so you don’t hurt anyone. Shall we proceed with the scene?”

“Aren’t you horribly outnumbered!” Essie gestured towards her friends. “Nemesis needs minions, go find some friends.”

That was when Ares started to panic. He didn’t have many friends and even less at the monastery. Who would he even ask? The only people he even recognised so far were Ishtar and Sigurd. The less said about the latter the better.

A vision of beauty came to his rescue. He spotted her entering the training grounds, walking with a graceful sway in her hips. Ares thought she was a faculty member at least - she looked slightly familiar. He’d never spoken to her before, couldn’t recall her name but she saved him from having to admit to a bunch of children that he was lonely and difficult to befriend.

“Excuse me,” he walked over to her, keeping his voice low so the kids couldn’t hear him. When she looked at him, he wilted and wanted to hide or flee. The children though - he couldn’t just disappoint them. “Y-yes, excuse me, ma’am” Oh no what if that offended her?

“I-I was wondering if you could...” he mumbled the next part at high speed, “pretendtobemyfriend. It’s for the children!”

@musing-elegance

[amitieos]

to be slayed on the plains

@ashenprofessor

It was a crisp morning and Elincia found herself in the courtyard of the monastery grounds. The ground was powdered lightly with snow and she tucked herself away in a little annex. What a perfect time to enjoy one of the novels Bernadetta had lent to her. The sound of children laughing and playing filled the air, helping her to relax further. It seemed they were putting on a play of some sort.

She turned the page to the next chapter, eager to see what awaited the book's romantic heroine. However, she was interrupted by a small tug on her sleeve.

Before her stood a young girl, no older than maybe seven or eight. She held a wooden training sword in her right hand and pointed it straight towards Elincia.

"I am Seiros! Divine and mighty," she said, puffing her little cheeks out. Adorable. "You'll be Nemesis! Oh, and invite your evil friends." The girl looked so bright and confident, her expression so gleeful that Elincia couldn't possibly refuse, even if she wanted to.

Phew, she was really glad she'd hit the library recently to read up on the church's teachings.

Right on cue, she spots Byleth on her way across the courtyard. She raises her hand and waves the woman over.

"Professor, I am no longer Elincia but the Liberation King Nemesis himself," she declared with a laugh. "Your mission, should you choose to accept it is to join me as one of my dastardly minions for battle upon the Tailtean plains."

sword +1

[amitieos]

things that go bump in the night (sword +1)

@yewfallen

Elincia yawned, stetching her arms skyward. She’d been in the library for hours, pouring over tomes about sword techniques. If she ever wanted to be worthy of wielding Amiti she had to learn more and prove herself.

Outside the window, the sun is already setting. She must have been here much longer than she’d already thought. The library itself had mostly emptied out and she was feeling rather lethargic. There was a shortcut to the dormitories but-- well there had been rumours.  Whispers, resonating upon dust that danced between the tomes, of a thief. One spectral and clad in armour, gone by sunrise.

Truth be told, she was a touch terrified.

Thankfully, she notices someone across the library hall. A member of the Black Eagles with golden hair scattering the faint twilight. Ah -- Febail she thought, approaching the young man.

“Pardon the intrusion, Lord Febail.” Elincia began, pleading her own voice to remain calm and stable. “Have you almost finished? I was about to head back myself but... I’ve heard some troubling rumours.and I’d prefer not to venture that way alone, but only if you’re ameniable milord”

Hmm. Perhaps a little too prim but she was scared and one catches far more bees with honey than with vinegar. Best to be over polite than cause offence, she had often been reminded. Especially when she needed aid from the other.

[amitieos]

babygirl, what’s your name?

As the most successful scammers of the group, “Marth” and “Roy” are your biggest targets. A chance encounter in a large town brings you face to face with the two, but things turn complicated when a crowd forms in support of the imposters. A gaggle of fans proudly support these “down-to-earth princes”, viciously defending them against your supposed slander. Try as you might, just one sensuous “babygirl” from Marth is enough to rally the crowd against you. The puffed-up “Roy” goes as far as to say they are undefeatable in their strength and purity of heart… but can they prove it? [Grants Sword +1]

The two men have evaded the church’s grasp for sometime, imitating two of her students to unscrupulous ends. Finally, they are caught between herself and Edward in the middle of town. Elincia shoots him a pleased smile, proud of their efforts and teamwork. Yet a crowd draws closer with every second, enthralled and enchanted by the pair of scoundrels. Do they not yet realise the danger they pose? How they besmirch the good name of two honourable young gentlemen?

“Leave our princes alone!” shouts a young woman, and Elincia turns her head in confusion.

“But Marth is Archanaea’s king, these men tell you naught but falsehoods.” She pinches her brow, taking a deep breath to calm herself. “Their deception and racketeering has led innocent people to bankruptcy. They must be stopped!”

“Babygirl, must we fight them?” The man who is very much not Marth asks in a voice barely above a whisper. The crowd starts squealing in a bizarre display of delight. She looks to Edward, puzzled by the response as the arrogant, imposter Roy threatens them with his infinite strength. Her hand twitches, the instinct to grasp Amiti’s hilt in defence almost irresistible but something else troubles her deeply.

“Babygirl? No! Absolutely not! How dare you call yourself pure of heart if you’re willing to drag an innocent child into a fight! A baby, too! A defenceless little baby. You should be ashamed!”

@justices-blade

[amitieos]

a whirlwind of blades and feathers

A traveling instructor has arrived at Garreg Mach, ready to teach any willing listeners how to practice the delicate and graceful art of sword dancing. It’s optional for, well, everyone but your class. You’ll need to choreograph and memorize an original routine to fulfill the requirements to move into the next level of sword mastery and this is your last chance before the term officially changes. Grab a partner, watch those feet and try not to stab anyone this time? [Grants Sword +1]

She watches the instructor with bated breath, awe shimmering in deep brown irises. Each movement is precise, delicate but deadly as the dancer follows through each movement with the point of their sword drawn to attention. Glinting in the lantern light, a warning, bright red and louder than silence should dare to be. It’s captivating, magical even.

Out of reach, just beyond her fingertips.

Elincia has some skill in dancing, at least when she focuses her energy and attention on the art. She’s no novice with a sword, either, but combining both into a fluid, graceful art form? Her poor face already feels bruised from a collision with the floor that is yet to come. It surely cannot be hiding far around the corner though. It’s with trepidation that she picks up a wooden training sword, rather than reaching for Amiti’s hilt, which is far more comfortable in her hands. At least armed with this she’s unlikely to do too much damage to herself, or anyone around her.

When it comes to partnering up, Leanne was the last person she’d hoped for. Not for distaste towards her company, far from it. Were this any other activity, she’d jump at the chance to work alongside her dear friend. But even a training sword could crush the heron’s bones if swung too hard. No, Elincia seeks out a different partner. She doesn’t get very far.

Leanne’s eager face is in her field of vision, her hands already taken in her friend’s own. Vivid green eyes meet her gaze and twinkle with delight. Elincia knows then and there that she cannot possibly say no to her friend.

“You’d like to work together? I’m sure you’re far more graceful than I am, Leanne. Maybe you should find a partner closer to your skill level?” The attempt to dissuade her is pretty feeble, especially when Elinicia knows first hand how indomitable Leanne’s will could be. Once an idea was in her head, it was almost impossible to change her mind. “I fear I might be a bit too clumsy though. I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I hurt you in any way.”

@allegreta​