Fantasy Cradle of Desire: In Character

[OldTurtle]

Dorian Alfieri | Ematille

Immediately, chaos broke out.

Not interfering, Dorian slipped his watch back into his pocket. The ticking of its hands, audible only to himself, muffled further by the layers of cloth so that even the nobleman could hardly make it out. Thick, rough cloth that chafed against his smooth palms. Linen, dyed with woad. The color hadn't kept well, fading into more of a dreary, muddy blue than the original indigo, but the integrity of the fabric endured despite the aging. The fabric was, admittedly, just a tad better woven than most of the commoners had access to; one of the few luxuries Dorian allowed himself in his work with Arcana -- if one could even classify such a paltry allowance to be a luxury at all, really.

The lanky nobleman stooped down and retrieved the fallen lamp. He grasped it firmly by the iron ring jutting from the top, lifting it aloft. For a moment, Dorian gazed into its depths... and then shrugged, roughly stuffing it under his arm. Frankly, the magical mechanisms that powered relics eluded Dorian, who had far too little time and far too much on his plate to devote any meaningful efforts to understand them. Managing the operation of his own relics was as much experience as he could accrue.

Beyond his own musings, the situation was rapidly devolving. Peering into the room, now filled by equal parts thorny vines, broken furniture, and swinging blades, he could hardly make out the figures of everyone within. Rather an unappealing stage to enter, he thought. Dorian glanced down at the slender blade in his other hand. Certainly not. He never was one for such immediate, violent measures.

With Rattler having forced his way in and momentarily cleared the entryway with his greatsword, an opportunity to interfere opened. Stepping forward, the cloaked man quickly slipped into the tight chamber and skirted around its perimeter. Using the chaos to further hide the signs of his approach, Dorian slunk around to the rear and stopped only a few feet from one of the women who they'd stumbled into. He did not recognize her, of course. The sole opponent he could identify was the one who'd called himself "Cyril," and even then only by the description Arcana had been given; the man's actual features were entirely unfamiliar. Still, Arum's earlier attempts, while not as piercingly effective as his stigma's previous uses, provided a gaping opening to leverage.

Still invisible and all-but-undetectable by common senses, Dorian leaned in close behind the woman. Hovering just at the edge of the veil, he wet his lips and opened his mouth.

"It's too late." The whisper was faint. Too faint. By any measure, it should have been drowned out by the commotion of the conflict, yet it still carried just enough to reach her ear. "He will die, and it will be your fault." It was as if a dozen voices spoke at once, the conglomerate familiar but individuals unidentifiable. The hypnotic ringing wormed its way deeper and deeper.

"He's only here because of you. You can't let him die. You have to save him." Dorian leaned in just a hair closer. Each word was like a dagger, a weight, a burning flame licking at her heels. "You must help him."

---

Interactions:

Mentions: Group 1

Location: Balfour Manor

 

[Dawnsx]

Bippity boppity booo

Cyrus︱Arum

If not for Auri’s ruthless training, Cyrus would have never seen the crystalline shard whizzing toward Rattler. Being able to see it coming didn’t mean he was quick enough to react to it though, and he flinched at the rather unsettling sound of the projectile imbedding into the poor lady's flesh.

Somehow, Cyrus wasn’t even surprised that the blonde man chose to attack first, ask later. At least he didn’t aim the shard at Cyrus?

Things devolved into chaos at that point, with Magpie flinging the table forward and Rattler retaliating with his greatsword.

Combat had never been Cyrus's strong suit, but his stigma meant that he was a master at befuddling his foe. Without even knowing that Dorian was whispering words of poison in the black-haired woman’s ears, Cyrus rushed forward, and, in a moment of deja vu, threw himself at her feet.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean for this to happen!” Cyrus wailed over the din of battle. He looked over at Cyril. Recalling how readily the man attacked his allies, Cyrus didn’t even have to fake the trepidation on his face. “I- I didn’t think he would get so angry… Please, help me! My grandfather’s heart wouldn’t be able to take it if anything happened to me!”

Code by Nano

 

[fluticasone]

fluticasone fluticasone

dusk

name

titania iseult

location

balfour manor courtyard w/ group 2

interactions

Nemesis ( Zariel ) Pawn (@nios) Foxglove ( Aukanai ) Dahlia ( Idiot Doom Spiral ) NPC's ( Nano )

It wasn't the first time she'd witnessed a comrade's death, but it never made it any easier. Certainly, she'd never liked him. Yet it did little to alleviate the ball that had settled itself into her stomach.

Dusk took a moment to settle her gut, drew her breath, and studied the scene before her. Their priority was to separate the duke from his knight. It didn't matter how good a knight she was; if her liege couldn't keep up, that would leave them both open to attack.

Her right arm reached behind her, pulling her bow taut while she notched her arrow. The rock was a warning shot; now she would be aiming to meet flesh.

She docked another, quickly firing two more shots before standing and trying to find another point from which she could shoot. It didn't matter if they didn't hit the mark the way most hoped it would. That would be all too easy.

Her goal? To drive a wedge between the duke and his knight.

 

[Aukanai]

SONG GRACIE

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ten of Swords FOXGLOVE

Dead…

It happened too fast.

Dead? Dead!!

The fact came crashing down into her like a heavy weight. Her eyes widening in shock at the scene before her, then her knees buckled. After that, it was the overwhelming feeling of the cold, a claw grabbing the back of her neck that left her in shakes. The fear.

If…Samadhi hadn’t been able to survive that, could..she? She was going to die here.

Die…die….die…

Why’d she come here? What made her think this was a good idea? It was making her mind drift. Away…away..far away. Song Gracie might just become an empty husk, a mind so wrangled with the sight..and smell of death.

The smell. Smell of blood, it was so distinct and strong enough that the feeling of something coming up her throat made her knees buckle again and she stumbled forward. Keep…it down. The effort it took made her forehead sweat, her knuckles pressed tightly against her lips.

There was more movement and it dragged Song enough out of her dread for her sight to refocus. First on Andrius. She couldn’t see his face from where she was standing, but yet he carried such strength. Next her vision fell upon Titania.

..They were still fighting.

Song finally looked down at the rapier in her hand. Even if her hands were trembling, she was still holding onto it tightly.

..That’s right. Fight, your life depends on it. Fight like a feral animal, to survive.

Yet..what could she do?

For now, she would just ready herself. Wait for an opening.

---

Location: Courtyard ll Mentions: - ll Interactions:

Zariel @nios​

Spoiler: mobile

[ SONG GRACIE ] ​

---

IDead…

It happened too fast.

Dead? Dead!!

The fact came crashing down into her like a heavy weight. Her eyes widening in shock at the scene before her, then her knees buckled. After that, it was the overwhelming feeling of the cold, a claw grabbing the back of her neck that left her in shakes. The fear.

If…Samadhi hadn’t been able to survive that, could..she? She was going to die here.

Die…die….die…

Why’d she come here? What made her think this was a good idea? It was making her mind drift. Away…away..far away. Song Gracie might just become an empty husk, a mind so wrangled with the sight..and smell of death.

The smell. Smell of blood, it was so distinct and strong enough that the feeling of something coming up her throat made her knees buckle again and she stumbled forward. Keep…it down. The effort it took made her forehead sweat, her knuckles pressed tightly against her lips.

There was more movement and it dragged Song enough out of her dread for her sight to refocus. First on Andrius. She couldn’t see his face from where she was standing, but yet he carried such strength. Next her vision fell upon Titania.

..They were still fighting.

Song finally looked down at the rapier in her hand. Even if her hands were trembling, she was still holding onto it tightly.

..That’s right. Fight, your life depends on it. Fight like a feral animal, to survive.

Yet..what could she do?

For now, she would just ready herself. Wait for an opening.

---

Location: Courtyard ll Mentions: - l Interactions:​

 

[Nano]

Cradle of Desire

Scene 002

Group One: Dawnsx A Murder Of Corviknight Worthlessplebian OldTurtle @Dovinique Bloody_Death

First, a table. Then, a series of wild swings of a sword.

Chaos quickly erupted within the room as the enemy scrambled to choose sides. As Ematille’s whispers seemingly split and then converged within the blonde woman’s mind, sweat trickled down her chin and her brow grew increasingly furrowed.

“No…I-”

she muttered to herself, remaining crouched and oblivious to the mayhem erupting around her. Slowly, she turned her gaze toward Arum, eyes glazed over and unfocused. She shakily lifted herself back on her feet, before a creak caused her to flinch. Within the span of a single blink, the blonde rushed in front of Arum, cradling him within her embrace if he chose not to move away as a chair crashed into her back.

“Emily!”

the blonde shouted, though the pain made her unable to turn to face the brunette she was addressing. The latter, in turn, drew in a sharp breath before she stammered.

“You…run. I can’t help you. You know I have too much on the line.”

With her piece finally said, the brunette drew her sword, aiming a clumsy stab at Magpie, though she notably gave Arum and the blonde guarding him a wide berth—as wide as one could in a relatively cramped room ill suited for combat.

Though knocked back by the table unexpectedly launched at him, Cyril managed to barely avoid being pinned to the wall by the flying piece of furniture. Still, he wasn’t yet out of harm’s way, as Rattler’s blade threatened to make quick work of any who dared stand in its way. In his usual composed manner, the blonde deftly dodged out of the way of the engineer’s swings, though not without an unlucky nick upon his right forearm and the loss of a knife that had been throw aside by the force of the sword. In retaliation, the blonde chose to lean in closer rather than continue to retreat, though being driven toward the corner of the room meant he didn’t have any space to do so in the first place.

As if in a paltry attempt to parry Rattler’s blade with the thin knife in his hands, Cyril braced himself with his weapon. Yet the sounds of clashing metal never came, as the blonde instead stepped mere centimeters away from the man and moved to stab one of the hands holding his sword.

Group Two: Zariel Aukanai Idiot Doom Spiral fluticasone

Crimson eyes witnessed Samadhi’s corpse fall upon the cold earth with disinterest, flicking back toward Dahlia before the wayward scientist’s blood began to wet the thin blades of grass decorating the courtyard. A wide grin stretched across her face at Nemesis and Dahlia’s offers, though from the glimmer of sly amusement in her gaze, it was clear that she didn’t plan on lending her aid as easily as she’d initially let on.

“I’m starting to have second thoughts after seeing your friend’s performance just now,”

Eloise spoke at a leisurely pace while gesturing toward Samadhi’s cleanly beheaded corpse. With a faux show of sympathy drawn upon her visage, she gave the group a nonchalant shrug.

“Sorry for your loss, by the way. Anyway, protecting you? I don’t think so. There’s no point in earning money if you die before you spend it, after all. But- since I’m so generous, I’ll give you a special discount to honor your friend’s sacrifice…”

The white-haired woman pointed her knife in the direction of the knight fiercely guarding the Duke.

“Unlike the other guards, she’s smart. She knows her priority is getting the Duke to safety, not slaying some ruffians. The good thing is she’ll likely stay on the defensive.”

True to Eloise’s words, the knight attempted to block Nemesis’s sword with her own blade, though rather than press on, she withdrew before his upward thrust could contest hers. Almost as if having anticipated the two arrows whistling her way, the moonlight flickered upon the flat of her blade once again, repelling Dusk’s attack in a fashion akin to putting forth an invisible wall roughly a foot in front of the blade. However, rather than move in to attack, she continued to keep the Duke close by her side, her body language and positioning making her intent to escape the courtyard clear.

Unlike Samadhi’s careless assault, Nemesis was a warrior far more wary, defenses water tight. With the added threat of Dusk’s arrows, pursuing any openings in his guard would only result in her liege sustaining injuries, leading to further complications in her mission, or worse—death.

The Duke, carefully hidden behind the knight’s back, finally finished fumbling around for something hidden within his vest’s pocket. With trembling hands, he fiddled with what appeared to be a golden pocketwatch, and Nemesis would feel a sudden weight press down upon him. Not enough to render him immobile, but enough for his movements to grow slightly sluggish.

In the meantime, Eloise finally delivered her counter to Dahlia’s offer:

“My specialty happens to be cutting into people’s necks, so you’re in luck. Keep pressuring the knight. Don’t worry. You don’t have to defeat her. Just grant me an opening, and I’ll deliver the Duke’s head to you in exchange for the goods you promised.”

Code by Nano

 

[Worthlessplebian]

Akseli Arbeit — Rattler

The connection lasted for less than a heart's frightened beat. His moon-dim eyes caught an instance of the ashen blade hurtling through the blond man's forearm. Shallow, swift. The thinnest arc of crimson slashed in the wake of the Engine'er's weapon, the leading drop of red winking slightly in the wan light. It felt impossibly brief. Rattler wasn't certain if he imagined the sight. The thought reverberated in his skull as if it rebounded from the hard contours of his dark gray helm. His hands clenched too tight about the greatsword's grip, beads of crystal sweat teetering at the front of his forehead. The yawning pit of dread in his stomach, that he always felt during these frenetic moments, was there. And like always, blunted, dulled, suppressed by the coursing adrenaline through his body. But he still felt it. For all of the training spent in Aurelius' ceaseless, muscle-searing combat simulation, Rattler never felt prepared for when blood was spilt.

Then, distracted by the stray thought's insidious ploy, he saw the blond opponent slip into his guard. Deception. He feigned a meagre parry. If Akseli's focus hadn't waned for less than a second, he would've seen the ruse for its trickery, pressing his advantage. Panic stalked, dogged, rounded his consciousness like a dark hound, maw of wicked teeth wetted with a devouring hunger, crimson eyes ablaze of a hungering flame. But he didn't falter.

He stepped back, too short to evade the blond's attack, but enough. Enough to swing his greatsword back, still constrained by the small space. His throat released a roar of exertion as his arms burned with the motion. The raw, harsh sound dominated the chaos then died. He had swung the greatsword 'round. The motion awkward, stiff. It would barely cut, he knew. However, slicing had not been his aim. He tilted his hands, twisting the flat of the blade towards the blond. He hoped the blunt force would suffice to disabuse him of the attack, if not stun him for a moment's respite. He hoped it wouldn't be too slow.

Interactions: Nano (Cyril);
Mentions: Aurelius;

 

[Zariel]

​

Clang!

The sound of steel striking steel rang through the courtyard as Andrius’ blade clashed against the knight’s. Sparks flickered between them, but just as quickly as she had blocked his initial swing, she evaded his following slash, shifting swiftly out of harm’s way rather than contesting his strength.

She was fast.

Even as Andrius adjusted his stance, she had already repositioned herself beside the Duke, her blade flashing in the moonlight as she intercepted a pair of arrows streaking toward her master.

Andrius exhaled sharply. This was no common bodyguard. No mere foot soldier. The way she moved, the way she handled her blade—it was masterful. Enough so that, in spite of his detached disposition, he felt his curiosity pique. Who was she? What face lay hidden beneath the helm?

Still, no matter how impressive she was, the truth remained.

Arcana’s true target was the Duke. Yet, Andrius's focus remained fixated on the knight. Even at this distance, they both knew the truth: if either of them willed it, this gap would be closed in an instant, and one of them would fall.

All it would take was a single mistake.

Suddenly, a crushing force settled over Andrius, pressing against his shoulders, coiling around his limbs like unseen chains. It wasn’t physical, yet it pulled him into the earth.

His eyes flickered to the knight. No. She hadn’t moved. The pressure wasn’t her doing. Which meant...Of course. It was the coward hiding behind her, using some relic to slow him down, to bind him in place while his blade was still preoccupied.

Hmm... So they intend to slow me down... I see.

This would be a problem. If he couldn’t move freely, the fight would turn against him quickly. He needed to deal with the Duke. But he couldn’t reach him without first going through the knight, and judging by her stance, she wasn’t about to step aside.

Andrius's grip tightened. Fine. If this was how they wanted to play it, then he would respond in kind.

And they will know fear.

His eyes began to glow as he drove his blade into the ground with a metallic ding, resting both hands atop the pommel. His cold, piercing gaze drilled into knight.

When he spoke, his voice was like a judge pronouncing sentence, unwavering and absolute.

"Tell me, unnamed knight—do you acknowledge your sins? You stand before me, stained with the blood of another. Do you plead guilty to murder? Or do you deny the blade you so easily turned upon my ally?"

Slowly, he shifted his stance. His feet glided across the grass, his torso twisting as he levelled his sword, aligning its tip with her centre, preparing a piercing lunge. The weight upon him was a hindrance, but it was not an end.

It was only a matter of time. Soon, a wave of fear would come crashing down upon her.

And when it did—he would strike.

"Answer! ... Or your silence shall speak for you."

NEMESIS​

 

[Idiot Doom Spiral]

Scene 002

Sierra Daiji

Dahlia

Did Dahlia appear to be the type of person to dirty her hands with combat?

Perish the thought.

White dahlias symbolized purity, focus, and dignity incarnate. Hah! She barely had a weapon save for the dagger on her chatelaine and the sword hanging loosely from the armor's belt. Foxgloves, on the other hand, were both harm and healing. With a rapier in her hand, she ought to be fighting beside Nemesis and Dusk, yet the redhead's rapier quivered under the weight of the wielder's grief.

Dahlia resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the sight of Foxglove's actions. The work of the Arcana was grim, dirty, and deadly. People did not enter this guild for exercise, but for change--they should have known that revolution would not be without bloodshed. Had it been Kuro, Sierra might have shed a few tears at the funeral but hosting a funeral would require that she fulfill her mission.

"You won't get your revenge by standing on the sidelines." The blonde said bluntly to Foxglove before retrieving her dagger hidden beneath her armor. "It's been a few months since I've wielded a blade, but I'm sure we can sneak a hit now that she's focused on Nemesis."

Dahlia threw her dagger towards the guard's helmet before running forward. Whether or not she chose to deflect the weapon, the sound of metal against pavement would unmistakable--a bluff that she had little intention of following up on. Assuming she ignited Foxglove's fighting spirit, the redhead would throw herself into the fray and allow Dahlia to stop short of the knight's range. Strong as the other woman might have been, even she would be forced to decide between two blades.

And if she cut through Foxglove, Dahlia supposed this would only sweeten the pot for their new ally.

Zariel

Nano

Aukanai

Code by Nano

 

[Bloody_Death]

AURELIUS STALLARD || VERMILLION

As the chaos among the room started, Aruelius's eyes narrowed as he tried to determine which people were 'friend' and foe. While useful, he sometimes finds the charming and gaslighting of enemies to be a bit of a hindrance, yet it more often than not results in the less death overall. After a quick scan, it seems that the blonde woman managed to fall for Cyrus's skill and that snake's trickery, as she heroically threw herself in front of Cyrus to protect him. Leaving the other woman pointing the sword at Magpie to be another threat. But with this messy set of boundaries in mind, he could zero his focus on the vile man from the dungeon.

Eyes followed the dance of blades between Cyril and Rattler. Slightly impressed by the third faction member's show of swordsmanship. If not the only one with decent swordsmanship... Though he does catch the blunt end of his hesitation...? Or perhaps a distraction that leads to a rather unfavorable situation for Rattler. Brows furrowing a bit, but relaxed just a bit when he was able to still somewhat react in time to block the trap he failed to see. But that was enough of that.

As the blades clashed once again, before Cyril could push further against or recover from Rattler's parry, a familiar buzzing zipped through the air. An electric charged dagger aimed straight for his current opponent. And not far behind the dagger was Auri himself. Eyes locked onto the other blonde man and following his every movement. Whether that was dodging, blocking, or getting hit by the dagger, it didn't matter. Unsheathing his spear mid-dash, he spun it around to hold it properly before swinging the bladed tip with full force with the full intention of splitting this guy in half if possible. Completely obliterating any pieces of furniture around him. Blade halfway through the plush fabric of the carpet and chipping the stone underneath it. "Despite how much your face irritates me, I'm quite delighted to see it right now like this."

---

Interactions: Nano (Cereal) || Worthlessplebian (Rattler)
Mentions: Cyrus | Dorian | Other group 1 members

 

[A Murder Of Corviknight]

looking for schrodinger's image

Leif Sterna | Magpie

Tags: @.Group1

Even with his mind whirling around miles per minute in a chaotic cacophony, Magpie still expressed a focused eerie calm air and forced cheer. Besides the numbing ringing in his ears, any panic equally numbed and distant, he was still focused enough to block the brunette’s clumsy stab. With a flick of his thumb against one of the symbols on the cane, the first set of thorny vines detached. He kept them both at standstill before tripping her with said cane and swiftly kicking her in Cyril’s direction with surprising deftness for a Third Faction member.

Huh. Maybe it does pay to be harassed by Vermillion every once in a while.

"Vermillion, don’t tell Spinel I said this but maybe your training is helpful at times!"

He called out cheerily before lashing out at Cyril and the brunette with more vines. Seemingly brushing off any past remorse in favor of focusing on their mission, any lingering hesitation melted off his frame.

 

[Aukanai]

SONG GRACIE

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ten of Swords FOXGLOVE

She was almost frozen, the way Song had been standing still as she watched the enemy so intensely.

But, when she heard Sierra speak up, Song’s posture changed. There was a silent release of tension in how stiff she had tensed her shoulders. Only for her to tense again at the spoken words.

Sierra was right. Song couldn’t deny that.

Maybe it would be against Andrius’ orders and plan. It made Song hesitate. But only for a moment. She trusted Andrius, but she also didn’t want him to bear the full brute. If she could at least do something to help, even if it helps only a little bit, she wanted to.

Besides…Sierra had reminded her why she’d joined Arcana in the first place. Song had told herself for a long time that didn’t want to idle anymore. So, now was the chance.

When she’d steeled herself enough, she jolted into action. She’d reacted a moment late, and Sierra was already two steps ahead, but Song didn’t take long to catch up.

With Sierra in front, and the dagger thrown, Song sped forward. As the knight was dealing with the dagger, Song would take the initiative to swing her rapier forwards. In knowing how serious Andrius had been about the knight, Song expected her opponent to be exceptionally strong and smart. She doubted this duo attack would do too much. Song had already expected that her attack would be dealt with a simple block. If anything, her only intention was to play decoy here. And when Andrius was ready..

Song would withdraw with a swift lunge sideways. Quick enough and far enough to steer clear of any sword swings.

Maybe Andrius would be angry about her reckless and very obvious risky move, but Song would deal with that later. She’d relied on him enough, it was time she did something.

---

Location: Courtyard ll Mentions: - ll Interactions:

Zariel Idiot Doom Spiral​

Spoiler: mobile

[ SONG GRACIE ] ​

---

She was almost frozen, the way Song had been standing still as she watched the enemy so intensely.

But, when she heard Sierra speak up, Song’s posture changed. There was a silent release of tension in how stiff she had tensed her shoulders. Only for her to tense again at the spoken words.

Sierra was right. Song couldn’t deny that.

Maybe it would be against Andrius’ orders and plan. It made Song hesitate. But only for a moment. She trusted Andrius, but she also didn’t want him to bear the full brute. If she could at least do something to help, even if it helps only a little bit, she wanted to.

Besides…Sierra had reminded her why she’d joined Arcana in the first place. Song had told herself for a long time that didn’t want to idle anymore. So, now was the chance.

When she’d steeled herself enough, she jolted into action. She’d reacted a moment late, and Sierra was already two steps ahead, but Song didn’t take long to catch up.

With Sierra in front, and the dagger thrown, Song sped forward. As the knight was dealing with the dagger, Song would take the initiative to swing her rapier forwards. In knowing how serious Andrius had been about the knight, Song expected her opponent to be exceptionally strong and smart. She doubted this duo attack would do too much. Song had already expected that her attack would be dealt with a simple block. If anything, her only intention was to play decoy here. And when Andrius was ready..

Song would withdraw with a swift lunge sideways. Quick enough and far enough to steer clear of any sword swings.

Maybe Andrius would be angry about her reckless and very obvious risky move, but Song would deal with that later. She’d relied on him enough, it was time she did something.

---

Location: Courtyard ll Mentions: - l Interactions:​

 

[Nano]

Cradle of Desire

Scene 002

Group One: Dawnsx A Murder Of Corviknight Worthlessplebian OldTurtle Bloody_Death

The flat of Rattler’s blade dug into Cyril’s side, knocking the breath out of the man and shove him to the side. Though the blade in his hand had yet to drop, the blonde was stunned for long enough to fail to react to Vermillion’s ensuing assault. Having been displaced from his original position, the electrified dagger sailed past the man and into the wall, yet the rain of blows from a weapon far too long for the cramped room and the pieces of broken wood from the broken furniture pelted his mangled body.

One final brutal swing which scarred the solid stone hidden underneath a plush carpet tore through Cyril’s torso, and from his ragged breaths, it was evident that he only had minutes to live if he didn’t seek immediate treatment. However, even in the face of death, the blonde spitefully grit his teeth at Vermillion’s mockery.

No words left the blonde’s mouth, but he mustered enough strength to spit at the man who held him at the tip of his bloodied spear.

Compared to the dire straits the dying man found himself in, one woman continued to hold Arum in her embrace protectively, half staring and half glaring at Vermillion in appalled shock. Her grip on the redhead tightened, as if fearing he’d turn around to harm them. As for the brunette she’d been arguing with mere minutes ago, she’d been long knocked out cold and left buried somewhere underneath the broken pieces of furniture after Magpie had kicked her away.

A draft blew into the room from the small gap leading into the hidden passageway that the Duke and his guard had used to make their way out of the estate. It was as if something were beckoning for them to follow.

Group Two: Zariel Aukanai Idiot Doom Spiral fluticasone

Pressure licked at her from within, and fear crept up from her extremities like creeping frost. Yet the knight’s body remained resolute in the defensive stance she took before her liege. Though her helmet continued to shield her from revealing the emotions written on her face, her voice remained cool and calm as she answered Nemesis’s demanding tone.

“You speak of sins, yet was it not your ally who was the first to attempt at another’s life? It is my sworn duty to retaliate so nary a hair upon my charge’s head is harmed.” The knight’s tone was accusatory, and she once again lifted her blade to face Nemesis. However, any with a modicum of observation skills could see that the manner in which she held her weapon was unbalanced, far from the perfect form she’d displayed a few moments prior.

In her moment of carelessness, the knight stumbled backward from the force of attempting to parry the blonde’s piercing stab. The following dagger aimed at her helmet triggered another reflexive shift to the side, though this time she failed to mind the space between herself and the man behind her.

With a sharp yelp, the man was unceremoniously elbowed by his knight and collapsed to the floor, eliciting a muttered curse under the knight’s breath. Before she could come to the man’s aid, Foxglove struck out with her rapier. An uncharacteristically clumsy swing at the redhead brushed past the woman’s face but ultimately failed to land a proper hit. In the end, Foxglove’s attack had done little to injure the knight, but it was enough. She’d stepped just a fraction too far, and the realization came too late as a scarlet shadow materialized behind her with a mocking laugh.

The Duke’s head was held gently within Eloise’s embrace, but the knife that quickly and mercilessly sliced through his neck was anything but. Unlike the rough job she’d done while attacking Knightmare, her cuts were precise and aimed with purpose. In moments, the Duke’s face turned pale and his mouth flapped open and shut uselessly as unintelligible gurgles bubbled up from his throat.

“Oh, none of that,” the white-haired maiden spoke with disgust. With a flick of her wrist, she flicked the blood off her blade before plunging it into his open mouth. Then, her crimson gaze landed upon Dahlia before she once again disappeared.

The knight’s hand shot out, as if attempting to grab Eloise, yet her metal-clad fingers would only grasp at air. For a brief moment, she froze. Then, her hand reached into a small satchel that had been hanging upon her waist. A faint gleam shined through her fingers, though nothing would come out of her actions.

A hefty sword suddenly crashed into her shoulder from behind, knocking the knight prone and sending the pendant she’d been holding flying toward Foxglove.

“That’s a bold sacrifice you’re willing to make. If only you’d pledged your loyalty to a master of stronger character.”

It was a voice vaguely familiar to Nemesis. Fortunately, the group wouldn’t be forced to guess the source for long. Something in the air wavered, and a tall man with white hair stained a pale red and crimson eyes materialized before them. Dull armor colored a dark onyx protected his sturdy figure, while a tattered cloak wrapped around the entire ensemble, held together by a golden clasp whose polish contrasted sharply against the rest of his choice in attire.

Strangest yet was the redhead, Reno, he was dragging by the back of his collar.

Lance Balfour stood by his father’s corpse, disinterest coloring his gaze. Without another word, he stepped over the Duke’s body to reach out with his free hand and retrieve the sword that had been embedded into the struggling knight’s shoulder. One additional strike to the head was enough to gradually cease her struggling, likely having knocked her out rather than claiming her life.

The general’s gaze turned back to Arcana. “You lot are rather uninspiring, but your efforts are commendable nonetheless.”

Code by Nano

 

[Zariel]

If only you’d pledged your loyalty to a master of stronger character.

Those words infiltrated Andrius’s mind, unlocking doors to memories long sealed away in buried chests.

It all came back to him.

---

The arena roared with cheers, jeers, cries of bloodlust, and gasping applause all fused into a single cacophony as the battle reached its conclusion.

Andrius stood at the centre of the stage, his chest heaving. Sweat and blood dripped from his brow. His muscles screamed with exhaustion; his right arm trembled as he kept his sword pointed at the man kneeling before him.

The royal executioner. A former Champion Duelist. The very man who had usurped his father in the same arena, ultimately resulting in the latter's retirement.

Andrius sharpened his bladework for years, but not for this.

It was odd. He hardly felt a sliver of satisfaction from defeating his father's usurper. This was not an official duel. There was no trophy to be won. No grand title to be earned... This was his family’s sullied name being cleansed with steel.

As the executioner lowered his head in submission, beaten and bloodied, Andrius felt only emptiness. No triumph. No peace. Only fatigue—and the vast, hollow weight of a vendetta fulfilled too late.

Then he heard it.

Clapping. Slow. Deliberate.

Suddenly, the cheers dulled, and it was as if all other noise drowned out to make room for one presence. Descending the staircase with a leisurely gait came him.

Lance Balfour.

The Mad Dog of Palmetta.

White hair tipped with crimson like a brush dipped in blood, and those eyes—demonic red eyes that pierced the soul.

“Congratulations on your victory,” Lance drawled, voice smooth as poison in wine. “What a fine show you’ve put on, Andrius Beowulf. Truly, magnificent. You swing a sword like a poet writes verse… such talent, wasted among the palace lapdogs.”

Andrius said nothing, sword still fixed on his defeated foe.

Lance tilted his head slightly. “Look around you. These nobles, they cheer, then forget. But I see something else... Potential. Real, sharpened potential. That flair, that fire... it doesn’t belong in some gilded corridor standing guard over cowards in robes.”

He stepped closer, smile now colder. “You don’t win battles with honour, Andrius. You win with fury and Blood.”

A pause. The final offer dangled like a blade over fate.

“Join me,” Lance said. “Fight by my side. Let your sword carve history. We’re going to tear through the continent, and I could use someone with your... particular edge among my ranks.”

Andrius stared back, heart pounding. Not from fear, but from something more dangerous.

Temptation.

---

A sickening thud.

The masked knight crumpled to the floor, as a blade plunged into her shoulder, binding her to the floor.

Andrius didn’t need to see the attacker. The voice alone was enough. A familiar mocking tone.

The general dragged the body of one of Arcana’s faction leaders by the collar like a misbehaved mutt. He stepped over the cooling corpse of his own father, no respect, no remorse, as if he were no more than a piece of rubbish scattered on the grass.

Andrius’s eyes narrowed, fingers curling tightly around the hilt of his blade. “Such filial piety...” his voice sarcastic and dry.

Lance retrieved his sword from the fallen knight before subduing her with ease. He then turned to the Arcana members, expressing his disappointment in their abilities.

Andrius remained silent. How could he refute? Lance was right. His current ragtag team was a far cry from an elite fighting group plotting to overthrow the ruling power of this nation.

He then sighed, casting his eyes over to Spinel.

"I believe you found something that belongs to us, General..."

NEMESIS​

 

[Idiot Doom Spiral]

Scene 002

Sierra Daiji

Dahlia

Finally, a worthy ally.

Combined with the dagger she threw, the two-pronged attack (aided by Nemesis) pierced the knight's composure. Her survival instincts overrode the previously strategic swordplay. The Duke fell victim to an ill-timed elbow strike, allowing for Foxglove to follow up and the assassin to close the fight.

Well done, dear mercenary, Dahlia thought as the white-haired woman disappeared. It was a shame she couldn't be added into the Second Faction's ranks, but she knew Eloise would stab Dahlia in the back just as easily as she slit Balfour's neck.

More importantly, she needed to face the new man that emerged from the shadows. Unlike Eloise's stealthy approach, he cared very little for who saw him. His well worn cloak and armor told the story of a veteran soldier, though how long ago was a mystery. He had no issue dispatching the knight, but even a child could subdue her after their team's assault.

Reno on the other hand should have been better than this. While, she considered the Third Faction better suited for the lab than field work, it disappointed her to know that their leader couldn't keep himself safe. What use is your stigma if you can't even warn your fellow Arcana? She thought with a shake of her head.

"Our lot finished our mission," Dahlia responded as she approached the General.

"I believe you found something that belongs to us, General..." Nemesis began with his eyes locked upon the Third Faction leader. The blood was still fresh on his mind and Judgement hopefully still usable against their new foe.

"And I prefer we resolve this situation without more bloodshed." she finished for Nemesis.

Her eyes flickered to the distance where Dusk ought to be hiding. But if we must, be at the ready.

Zariel

Nano

Aukanai

fluticasone

Code by Nano