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Fantasy Bravely Null

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Yui was beyond exhausted. The adrenaline from the battle at the temple had finally coursed its riveting energy through her body, leaving her empty shelled and simply exhausted. She was nearly dragging her boots through the crowded jungle floor by the time the vegetation began to clear and bright light in the distance bounced a bright sheen against their bodies.

Yui smiled brightly at the sight. The bright orange mixing pleasantly with the dreamy pink of sunset. If there was one thing she missed, it was the beautifully fierce sunsets home to the Tiger Clan village. The smile slid off of her face in a confused hesitation when she saw the thick plumes of black smoke smothering the dreamy landscape in her mind and turning it into a scene of horror. Yui’s eyes were wide, disbelieving, as she took in the massacre before them.

No, no, no. Why was there more death here? That stench of battle, usually it riveted her, but after the horrors upon horrors she had seen today, it made her stomach drop out in fear. She looked over at Ryuichi instinctively. His face was frozen into a stoic horror, eyes scanning the scene before them as a woman was impaled despite her pleads for mercy.

He locked eyes with Yui, the silent communication between them expressing the same pressing concern. Survival. Their attention was brought over to the Rat Clan noble and his small group, as he coaxed one of the members down from drawing their weapon. Yui didn’t think any of them had the energy left to fight. It would be an easy massacre for the soldiers before them.

The dark, bold silhouette of a soldier began approaching them, her armor and sword spattered and dripping with blood. It glinted a bright crimson in the orange light of the blazing fires in the distance. When the woman spoke, the sound of her voice froze Yui’s limbs completely. The fear that overtook her body was all encompassing. She felt a nervous, cold sweat begin to break out all over. Ryuichi instinctively inched towards her, putting an arm inconspicuously in front of her to push her body behind him. Yui was grateful for the comfort his touch brought.

Her eyes turned towards the Rat Clan Ninja as he spoke up for the rest of the group, who she was sure were all feeling the same sickening feeling dripping like sludge down their chests. His response was calculated, smooth, neither giving nor withholding too much information. Yui was relieved he had been the first to speak among them.

Ryuichi nodded in agreement to words the man had spoken. “We are only looking to spend a brief moment here, but if you are preoccupied we can make our way through without stopping.” He kept the stoic expression on his face, masking the true feelings of doubt and worry of how his response would go over. They needed an exit strategy out of this mess, hopefully his response would serve as one.

Mentions: Shadow Dancer Shadow Dancer
Interacts: Arcanist Arcanist
 
Sheridan Sasaki
​
Like her companions Sheridan was relieved that they were out of that accursed swamp. The village that Murato told them about, Miyaori village if she remembered correctly, was should be close by after their trek through the swamp. She could tell that her companion needed a break from the exhaustion they had from battling at the Crane's through traversing the swamp. It would also benefit her as well since she needed to prepare making a new puppet.

That was until her companions seemingly stopped. Frowning Sheridan look up and-

Ah, that's why.

The skies were filled with plumes of smoke and the comfortable silence that was meant to be accompanied with the bustling of villagers were instead filled with their screams and terrors. There was a strange sense of deja vu that Sheridan felt at the situation but neglected the feeling to focus on the situation at hand. There weren't any bandits but samurais that were spread out and killing the villagers. One of them seemed to take notice to their situation and just by her structure alone Sheridan knew that she was a madman. She had seen many people who practiced the dark arts and were subsequently corrupted by it. However, this woman was entirely different.

She was a woman corrupted with faith.

No matter words they spoke if they didn't align with the charcoal samurai then they would be next on the list. Unfortunately, everyone was still tired from the traveling. There was no way they could face all of those opponents in their current state, not to mention she doubted they would win even if they were in a more recovered state.

All Sheridan could do was watch in silence as the rat ninja talked with the fanatic. Her most of her talismans were soaked and rendered useless from the swamp and her puppets were beyond broken. Casting a spell was unthinkable since that would involve her calling incantations in front of the samurai which would no doubt provoke the samurai into attacking them. If the fanatic had enough reason perhaps she would allow them to pass.
 
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“Morgan Tourbillion? The Whirlwind? What the hell do ya think you’re doing back in Capybara Town?”

It had been a couple hours since the ragtag group had stumbled into town. Most had went their separate ways at the moment, but many managed to find their way to a tavern at some point during the night. The general was no exception. She was already two mugs deep when she approached by a scruffy old man.

“Just drinking away my pain,” Morgan responded eventually. She didn’t bother looking at the man.

The old man sat down on the stool beside her, signaling the bartender for a drink. “The usual,” he said. He then turned to Morgan. “You and all those other soldiers of yours look like shit.”

This time, Morgan turned to the man with her brows furrowed. “As you ex-commanding officer, I’d say you should stop asking me questions.” Morgan’s reply was blunt. Way off from her usual relaxed nature.

“Come on now! Don’t be mean to your old man. Tell me what happened! Them big ass scorpions ambush y’all? Bandits? Feur-“

“Prison.”

“What now? Sorry, my hearing’s been going out.

“Nothing... just a mission gone wrong,” Morgan said with a sigh, brushing her hair off to the side.

Morgan’s father shook his head. “I can tell you’re feeling down, but I know exactly what will cheer you up!” He turned to face the rest of the tavern before yelling out, “All drinks on me tonight! My daughter is back in town!”

The tavern erupted with excitement. Cheers rang out for the next several minutes as folks started buying rounds of drinks slamming their mugs together in celebration.

Morgan's father turned to her with a cheesy grin. "This is how I intend to celebrate your return! Spirits have been low since the navy has been making stops here."

"The navy?" Morgan asked with interest.

"They're gearing up for something big again, and their using ol' Capybara Town as a stomping ground to entertain their soldiers."

"When will they next arrive here?"

"A couple days I'd say. Why? You think the navy will help you out?"

"Oh I think they'll help me. Whether they want to or not." The general flashed a wicked smile at her father before looking for the barkeep. "Why the hell ain't there no booze in front of my face eh?"

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

"Here is your food, Father Bartholomew." A young male voice said shyly as a tray of dried carrots was pushed beneath an opening in a cell. Inside sat the world renown Father Bartholomew. He was covered in a thing layer of dirt, and wore basic clothes for a man of his position. He sat against the cell's far wall with his hands pressed together in prayer. Upon hearing the food be pushed towards him, he stopped.

"Thank you young man, the Goddess will remember your kindness." He reached forward to grab the tray, but as soon as his hand drew close, the dried carrots began to wriggle vigorously before turning pitch black in color. The 'carrots' then split apart into thousands of tiny spiders, crawling away towards the corners of the cell. The Highest Priest reeled back in shock and disgust, falling on his backside.

"You stupid old man!" The young voice teased.

Bartholomew gazed up at the young boy who had brought him his food, watching as his form shifted into that of a tall woman. Her face was all to familiar to him. Keres, the second highest priest.

"Oh Father Bartholomew! Please save us from those royal traitors! Only the church can save us now!" her voice still sounded as that of a teenage boy. However, her voice quickly shifted to her own. A low feminine voice with a slight coarseness to it. "It's too bad an old man as fat as yourself will wither away in a cell for the rets of his pointless life!" Keres let out a malefic cackle, before coughing raggedly into her hand. A black liquid was left on her palm. She pulled a handkerchief out of a hidden pocket and wiped it away.

"You won't get away with this Keres. I know you'll come back to your senses soon. The Goddess will forgive you. It is not too late." Bartholomew replied, shakily rising back up to his feet with a grunt.

With a scoff, Keres shook her head. "Your Goddess is nothing compared to the true rulers of our realm. Your church now serves... me." As Keres finished her sentence her body began to shift once again, growing in size once again. Her features fattened and her stomach bloated until she became a replica of Father Bartholomew himself. "Well I suppose I'll come visit you again once I've used every last citizen of this kingdom for my own needs. Well you'll probably be a rotten corpse by then." With the hearty laughter of Father Bartholomew, Keres left. Meanwhile, the real Father Bartholomew fell to his knees, beginning to pray once more.

"Oh Goddess Rivienne... please give the nobles of our kingdom the power to overcome the dark forces infesting our beloved Lunacresta. Our fate may just rely on their success."
 

The Samurai looked to each of those who spoke in turn. First, the ninja. She canted her head as he spoke, like a child, fascinated by his words. Travelling through a swamp…hoping to get to a village…shame this one had to be cleansed. Odd though, how they were travelling through a swamp. Where did they come from? Where were they going? They were questions that bounced through the woman’s mind as she listened to Hibiki, but hadn’t bothered to ask. They were being especially quiet for a reason, no doubt.

Umeko’s gaze moved between the travellers. One cowered in fear. Others took a cautious step back. The child stared at her with a certain knowingness as if right through her…an odd bunch. But there had been refugees, no doubt, given the recent warring in the clans.

Umeko’s grip on her blade tightened for a moment before she loosened it. Now wasn’t the time to be thinking of such things.

The woman let silence fall over them like a blanket. She moved through the travellers one-by-one, thoughtful. She listened to Ryuichi’s words, staring longer at him until she decided that it was best to sleep.

“You don’t want to stay here,” she started with a warning. “Have you not heard? Disease plagues the land. This village was an unfortunate victim of that. Dirty…” Umeko started shaking her head, her voice more strained, “Dirty, vile creatures…they had to be cleansed. We must continue that cleanse, before it ravages more towns and villages…” That comment was meant for no one in particular, a rambling that had clearly been a troubling and daily occurrence with this woman.

“Shiratori-sama,” another fighter with charred and scarred skin around his left eye piqued up, head respectfully bowed before he continued, “how do we know for sure they don’t carry the pestilence as well?”

Umeko looked to her fighter, and though you couldn’t see it through her helmet, it was clear that made her stop and think. She turned back to the travellers. “He’s right. We need you to prove you don’t carry the disease as well. We can’t let you proceed further if you have the potential to carry it.”

By then, her fighters seemed more ready to prevent them from treating, but hadn’t drawn their weapons yet. Not until their leader commanded them to.

Umeko approached Hibiki, being the nearest one to her. Her eyes wandered, searched, before looking to him. “Have you been in contact with anyone else? Anyone…sullied? Dirty?”

“Remember the transmission, Shiratori-sama,” the fighter reminded her.

“Yes. Show me your skin. Arms, legs, shoulders. Anywhere easily reached. Your wounds, if any, will tell me all. That you’re clean…”
 
Adalbrecht Cocksburrow

Let it never be said, that Adalbrecht Cocksburrow does not know how to freshen up. He loved being clean, but never was affronted to dirt. Good dirt was good for the crops, which fed the belly, laud dirt with proper reverence! For it is a blessing! or so his father would say. Usually with a drink in his hand, and a woman under the other... Well.. he was a faithful man while mother was alive, but he always had remembered amongst her final words were for her husband to enjoy the life he had left...

Truely, the thing she hated more than anything was wasted potential...

...Though... In truth... Adalbrecht had heard many stories about... his parent's proclivities...

"Aye my lad I loved her more than anything in this world, but she used me like a horse breeder with but one stallion. Tis a wonder you are my sole son." is one line he heard from his father during one of his fond drunken remembrances. A particular sceen where he fully swore of drinking of any kind with his father, and generally being vacant when he was in his cups...

Were all noble men this... Charged?

He didn't think he was, by the goddess he hoped he wasn't so crass and crude... he dared not to even look at the woman in their midst below the neckline! Much less below the waist whilst their backs were turned. Plus.. a great deal of them had.. very little in terms of such to speak of...

Clara makes up for much with personality, dare he say she have ferocity of a beats three times her size...

The rest.. he had little to say.. they kept to themselves.. but oft seemed.. meek...?

Ayka... Well.. She certainly was a looker no doubt, a kind soul to boot... Most would've kicked him whilst he was down... But.. not that one.

The young man sunk deeper into the warm water of the bath, a content sigh he let out all the pain from his body into the soapy waters. Were it he could open his eyes and be back home... How he could go with a massage from Franciska... Oh what a sweet heart she was...

"...

I am a pervert am I...?"

He sighed heavily, like father, like son... And mother and son for that matter he guessed...

Putting his hands atop the edges of the bath, he pulled himself up, the water dripping off his form as he stepped out, letting the waters drain. Well, at least he wasn't that much of a pervert to take the "help" that was offered to clean him up, far to expensive here for that. Plus a proper troubadour could avail himself for much less of an amount. Now he had to get dry and... Oh yes... His clothes were being cleaned... Oh well, his underclothes will do for now, they were light, plus he got them new from the market outside none too long ago. Grey linen, trousers and shirt, he stretched, cracked his neck, and opened the door to head back out into the world.

He had only just reached the bar floor proper when the word of free drinks rounded the building, well then, nothing like that to fill the belly and soul!

No Cocksburrow would go without a proper flagon or three when offered! Ale, mead, wine, the likes of thus creations were a blessing, and blessings of the land were what the Cocksburrow specialized in! Plus, farming can be dull work, what better to make usage of extra barley or fruits than to make such things? bees were a blessed creature for making mead to. Hmm.. mead... Honey...

He was at the bar in a flash, his hands running along the smooth wood surface. "Any mead? Perhaps Pecking Hen Cider? Or perhaps something to knock me on my back? I'm keen on forgetting a couple months, if you'll provide me the aid to do so." Adalbrecht smiled at the man as pleasant he could, but his desire was shown quickly through his words. "And food, what would you best recommend?" his words trailed as he looked beside himself.

"..Ah, Miss Morgan! I had been meaning to give my thanks. Well, thats to say the least, suffice to say without you i'd still be rotting away. I'd buy you a drink, but the keep already has." His rear was planted on a seat, looking all but comfortable in the new position. "I'd treat you to a feast back home, nothing beats a honey roasted sow... " his stomache gurgled, his eye turning to the folks around them, waiting for familiar faces to pop up, now that he was back up on his feet, rather than reeling from the effects of his... Extra precaution.

InsaneAsylum InsaneAsylum
 
Vivian Grivois| Lyari Morcant | Ashe Starvos
"You can just call me Nana, as if we're close friends, while we travel if it will make things easier for you Leyli." Vivian spoke to Clara, a smile forming on her features.

"While you clinging to me was a bit sudden and surprising, I didn't mind it much either." She reassured the other.

"Would you like to eat with me and Sonya before or after bathing?" She asked then. She knew after she ate herself she'd bath then sleep like a lizard buried deep in the sand.

She had every intent of enjoying their respite for as long as possible. Who knew what the journey ahead will bring? To rest and regain strength while they can only made sense before they continued onward into the unknown.

"Sir Ashe, what will you do?" Lyari asked the red headed archer, who had been watching the conversation between Clara and Vivian with amusement. Said redhead glanced down at the young Morcant.

"I suppose I'll head to the tavern for a short while after I get clean, then call it a day." He shrugged. As much as he didn't want to seperate from his charges for too long, he knew that he couldn't be their shadow evey waking moment like a mother hen or overprotective parent. Yet after the scare at the oasis, he occasionally felt a twisted knot of anxiety in his gut at the mere possibility of what could potentially go wrong at any given moment.

"We'll meet back up at the inn then?" Vivian suggested, knowing that a place like this had to at least have some form of lodging even if it didn't attract many tourists since it's hay day. With a nod from the redhead, she gave him a subtle sign that he was free to do what he wished, two of her fingers, tapping thrice on her ring finger. Something they had come up with years ago for a reason neither remembered.

Finding the time to get his clothes clean and get something cheap should he need to change, Ashe had every intention to at least remove the disgusting stench that settled into his clothes and skin. The thought of finally being clean, or at least close, was a welcome one. Time spent looking less like a dirty abandoned mutt flew by and once he deemed himself clean enough he made his way to the tavern for food mostly, but at least one drink couldn't hurt. He had never been big on taverns, still wasn't. They were usually noisy and crowded pubs that had the occasional bar fight. While he could hold a drink or two well, he only drank on occasion. Given his current profession as a bodyguard he didn't find the time to indulge much anymore. He didn't mind much either.

Gingersnap was a nickname received from an old drinking buddy that had agitated him once into snapping at him verbally, and it was a nickname that stuck and annoyed him since. Now, he wasn't a belligerent drunk, not at all but that drinking buddy of his could get under the skin of most rather easily.

Halfway through his first glass after finding a spot to sit that took in the whole room should he need to keep tabs on where allies were and where the exits were, Ashe was glad to hear that he wouldn't have to pay. He didn't want to spend too much of what money they had left and he only intended the one drink with his meal anyway.

InsaneAsylum InsaneAsylum Arcanist Arcanist Orikanyo Orikanyo The Black Knight The Black Knight King Crimson King Crimson
 
Lady Clarabella of Gavenia ​

"You honor me with such an opportunity, Your High--err, 'Nana'." Clara curtly responded, brushing a lock of her blonde hair back to hide the reddening spreading across her ears at the princess's praise.

'Friends.'
She knew the word, knew of what it was supposed to entail for young girls of her age; laughing, talking, braiding one anothers' hair.
But only had she ever heard of such things, in the stories she would read when the grandiose walls of her manor grew to claustrophobic for her liking.
In practice, the term 'friend' was but simply a term of formality to exchange with merchants, or others of noble birth; a contract made for the sake of mutual convenience.
And yet, the way the Princess spoke the word, the light in her eyes, the smile that she shared with the young choir girl, and that ginger-haired lad, made it seem like so much so much 'more.'
It made Clara's heart light, tempting her to indulge in such feelings; to laugh, and eat, and be the young girl that she was.
But she was a Gavenian. She was trained strictly to ignore such desires, and harden her heart.
There was work still to be done.
She broke regretfully away from the Princess's kind gaze, lest she be charmed further "...But I fear I must reconvene with you at a later hour." she stated, her hand not leaving the side of her head, a throbbing ache beginning to fester within her temple
"We've no way of knowing how long we shall be allowed to abide within these walls, and it would be prudent for me to--"
Her words were superseded by a large, involuntary yawn, daintily covered her other hand, the other trying desperately to nurse the searing pain growing within her skull. The world grew blurred, unfocused. Her body swayed like a reed in the wind in a futile attempt to keep balance.
"--f-for me to...to ensure we...we have..."
The ache in her head only got worse with every clumsily mumbled word, the pain spreading from the very flesh of her scalp, to the confines of her skull, down past her neck, pervading into her being, leaving a dull ache that gave way to a tingling, creeping numbness, deadening her frayed nerves and paling her skin.
In her subconscious mind, she knew what was happening; the weeks spent in such harsh conditions had finally caught up to her, and now her body was beginning to shut down from strain far beyond the limits of what she was accustomed to.
She only barely managed to croak out "...N-N-Necess...ary..."before the numbness claimed her jaw, sending the words tumbling out from her mouth, and her body lurching forward as it robbed the strength from her legs.



Interacting:
Vivian/Lyari, Takumi98 Takumi98
 
Hibiki's eyes shone with understanding a plague was spreading, it suddenly made much more sense. Fire was a great way to dispose of diseased bodies and if the plague was as severe as Shiratori's words made it out to be it was likely the entire town was infected. The best method of containment was to kill every villager and animal off and burn the village before it could spread. If what Shiratori said was true her decisiveness with such a hard choice was commendable, even if she seemed fanatical about it.

Hibiki's attention turned back to the black clad samurai and her demand to check their wounds for this plague. "Fair enough." Hibiki first took off the light armor around his legs and arms as well as the wrapping around his face and neck showing his arms and legs and shoulders to the woman. Hibiki then carefully unwrapped the bandage around his wound, wincing as the bandage took some dried blood with it and the air bit into him as he waited for her to finish her inspection.

Seiichi listened to the black samurai's words his fatigue and Hibiki's order was the only thing holding back his urge to punish the woman for the slaughter of innocents. Though as he listened he hated to admit if the story of the plague was true that her actions were the most efficient if brutal way to stop the spread before it could kill hundreds across the region. Upon her demand Seiichi quietly followed Hibiki's lead and took off his armor exposing the skin around his extremities neck and shoulders as he did he felt the heat from the village fires battering against his skin.

As Naoko heard about the plague her eyes shone with further worry and many questions bounced around her head. Naoko followed Hibiki's lead and exposed her arms, legs, and shoulders with a light blush on her face as she realized she was forced to show much more skin then she was accustom to around so many strangers. Though she kept enough presence of mind to ask her most pressing question about the plague. "What are the signs of infection if you don't mind me asking?" Naoko watched the group of soldiers and the black clad samurai and noted they were very professional, not a hint of lust could be seen as they watched only the analytical gaze of a doctor looking over their patient. Somehow that worried her more.
 
Vivian Grivois | Lyari Morcant | Ashe Starvos
With Clara suddenly looking worse after answering and stumbling forward, Vivian had moved forward to catch the other blonde, hoping to keep her from hitting her head or injuring herself. Worry caused her heart beat to spike as she sat with the other's head in her lap with no idea what to do from there once she realized the other had basically collapsed. She opened her mouth to tell Lyari to get Ashe, but stopped as a shadow fell over the trio.

"Oh, Tarkik! Do you know what happened?" She spoke up to the larger man, who had approached when he witnessed what had happened. Upon knealing to place a callous hand on Clara's forehead, the former prisoner simply hummed in response.

"She should be fine with some rest. Get a room and let her sleep for a time and I'd reckon she'd be right as rain sooner or later. What we all need is rest, water, and some food, right now her body chose rest." He spoke up, gathering the small blonde in his arms and motioning for the other noble and her companion to follow.

The two other girls had followed closely to what was probably the closest thing this place could call an inn to get a room for the three girls for however long they'd stay. Granted, Vivian didn't know how long they'd stay but it couldn't have been more than a short while right?

With Tarkik's help, the girls were able to get Clara situated with food and water nearby in case she woke and needed them if Vivian or Lyari were asleep. Vivian assured the man that they'd be fine and asked him to send a message along to Ashe for her, making sure to give her retainer's description if the other didn't already know what Ashe looked like. Once gone, Vivian sighed heavily as she sat besides Clara's sleeping form with a frown on her face and worry creasing her brow. It had been rather sudden, and Vivian wondered if whatever heat spell befell Clarabella made her feel like how Lanthane may have felt back when she wouldn't wake at the Oasis. Such a thought made her grimace, causing Lyari to lean over and give her a reassuring pat on the hand and a small smile to try and boost morale, not needing words to get her message across. Vivian returned it with a small nod.

Meanwhile, Tarkik had been rather dutiful in heading to the Tavern and finding the red headed archer. The message was simple and brief, and simply relayed that the three girls had a room together and that Leyli had a bit of a dizzy spell, but was sleeping with Nana and Sonya keeping an eye on her. While the archer didn't seem too happy about one of the girls potentially being sick, he didn't rush out to make sure they were alright. At least, not right away anyway like he wanted.

King Crimson King Crimson
 
Yui Akai | Ryuichi Kubo​

Yui occasionally glanced at Ryuichi at her side as the woman samurai talked further about the--disease that had plagued the village burning before them. Her brow knitted. Who just kills an entire village of people because of some rumored plague? Their intentions may have been good but the means, gods the means were unforgivable. She looked around at the faces of the samurai before them. They looked--odd. Empty. She didn’t think there was a single person around who could maintain a lucid mind after needlessly slaughtering hundreds of innocent people.

She was resistant to letting these samurai close enough to inspect their wounds. What did they mean by dirty? Creatures? Transmission? There wasn’t enough information about just what this disease was, if it was even real, for her to let them so close to her without the promise of no harm.

Yui looked at the rat clan group who eagerly stripped their clothes for the samurai to inspect. A pit of bitterness rose in her throat. She spit out the words, “I don’t have any wounds. Nor does my partner. You can inspect us from here.”

Her hand laid down to her side, the palm resting on the hilt of her katana. Her eyes fell across the soldiers standing before them. Many were still in the village, cleaning up whatever horrid act they were in the middle of. The burning fires and cracking wood would serve nicely as noise cancellation should anyone call for backup. They weren’t outnumbered enough for these foes, but they sure were exhausted. She clenched her jaw in the hopes that her adrenaline would be enough to rocket her through lest anything were to happen from her objection.

Her gaze fell onto Sheridan for a second, who scoured the samurai before them with a blank expression. She seemed to be studying the woman, but there was no planning in her features. No will to fight their way out of this if needed. Their best bet was for the samurai to let them move past this village, they could set up camp somewhere later.

Ryuichi stood by Yui, remaining silent since his original response to the samurai when she had first arrived. His features were set into a serious but empty countenance. Yui couldn’t tell what he was thinking, nor whether or not he agreed with her on refusing to be inspected. She settled her gaze back on the samurai, who were currently viewing the rat clan healer. They would be next in line. She steeled her gaze as she watched the samurais’ movements.
 
Gerran Perall | Lanthane Grivois
Interactions: InsaneAsylum InsaneAsylum , Orikanyo Orikanyo | Mentions: -
​

“Lan.”

“Yesssh?”

“How many is that now?”

“Ehhh?”

“Cups. How many cups have you had?”

Lanthane paused, one said cup in hand, and slowly blinked at Gerran beside him. Then, he grinned, the kind that possessed knowledge of a secret only shared between two people. Then, he started chuckling as he answered, “Enuff t’kill a Beefalo!”

Such silly creatures. Hulking hairy bovines with the daintiest insect-like wings, producing the sweetest honey to be found in Rivienne. Gerran reared some back on his home farm, Lanthane remembered. Might and magnificent beasts. He giggled at the thought of him wrestling one of them.

Gerran rolled his eyes. Letting him drink was a bad idea. Though, the good news was that he wouldn’t spend too much of the little funds they had on alcohol. Little food or water in his stomach only increased that drunken stupor of his. At least he could put him to bed sooner on his own. At least when he was following Lanthane around before, he was getting paid for it. Now, he was getting paid out of the pleasure of his own goodwill.

He could understand Ayka’s eagerness to get a bath over babysitting.

“Perhaps you should slow down,” Gerran suggested with a raised brow.

Lanthane looked to him before poking him in the chest. “What’re you? My old maan?” He scoffed, downing the rest of the contents in his cup. He remembered the last time he was lectured by his father, sneaking back into the palace, clearly having spent his coin at some brothel he liked to frequent in the city, completely pissed.

“You do your mother a disservice, behaving like this.”

Tch. His mother of all people might have understood it.

Though, the thought of disappointment on her part stung more than anything.

Not as much as his feet though. That damn trek in the desert. His brogues were hardly fit for wear anymore after that.

Maybe he could sell them for more gil, which meant more booze, and more women. A foolproof plan!

Lanthane glanced up eventually upon hearing a familiar dark knight’s call to Morgan, their beloved ex-General turned noble saviour. With a wicked grin spreading across his face, he pushed back the chair and wobbled to his feet. He ignored the questioning stare from his retainer.

“M’l—Lan?”

“Jusss sitere and havva drink,” Lanthane ordered, weakly gesturing to the cup and the jug he had been swigging from. “Yeh look like yeh needs one.” He chuckled before wobbling away from the table, leaving Gerran with his drink, that really, was Gerran’s drink since he bought it anyway. Though the dark knight’s sitting figure had become a blue and purple haze, their surroundings waving like a watercolour painting, Lanthane managed to reach Adalbrecht. He slapped both his hands on his shoulders from behind.

“Adelbekt, my gud man!” He called jovially in his ear, squeezing his shoulders before he let go, grabbing a chair to sit with him and dear old Morgan. He almost knocked it over as he dragged it over, but he paid it no mind. He sat down, his chest leaning against the back of the chair and his arms resting on top of it, and his legs spread either side as he looked between Adal and Morgan. All the while, he had this stupid grin on his face, wistful and content as he revelled in drunken euphoria.

“Don’t telme you’re not drinken? Nott when we’ve jus hitthe best oases for milessh afer the bullshicht we’ve been through?!”

Gerran hadn’t intervened. Not for the moment, at least. Lan would have just shrugged him off otherwise. Only when Lan was poised to make things worse for himself – or others, would he jump in. For now, he kept a dutiful watch from the side.
 
Adalbrecht

"Not drinking? i only just got down from the bath, and you should know Cocksburrow don't shy away from liquor!" his honor was slighted! As a great great grandson of the greatest vinter in Rivienne he cannot stand for that! it was clear, he had found his balls in the bath. He grasps the mug given to him and holds it infront of his nose. "...Hmm... Local... Cheap... barley..." he sips. "Hmm.. hearty..." he continues his sip, which turns into a steep drink, and then a full chug.

Slamming the mug down, he sighed. "Like the finest wine." he breaths out and looks toward lanthane "Sea water would taste sweet at this point. After the swill we've been fed and drank... bar keep, another, please." he spoke up to the man, the second went the way of the first, and just abit more quickly. "Something from Feurey, hot sake... What i would do for a bottle of the stuff now..." Adalbrecht sighs wistfully, a third drink placed before him, a bar tender know doubt can preempt his asking for another.

"Perhaps I should have taken a sudden and convenient trip south when the peace occurred... Well.. Not as if I hadn't before. Beautiful place I say Lanthane, and when at peace the people there are a sight to behold, father was desperate to try and hire some of the entertainers from down there in our last visit. Well.. Crane clan anyways... Father swore the visit was to try and mend some old wounds you know?"

he sighs. "...Well, fat lot of good that did. Sure monsters appeared but that don't mean we should go back to trying to gut each other, or even our own countrymen!" he took yet another drink. "And locking up nobles! For what? Cause nobles are able to see the shit being placed over folks eyes?

Common folk don't understand the power they have! Sure, the crystals exist b-" he burps, loudly. "Whats good about escaping death when theres few of you but thousands of normal folks? Is death frightening? immensely! But any man in this world wouldn't survive a pitch fork in the innards, if he does, he'd be down for months! But the church? Has the masses by the balls-" another drink, and a general thought from the crowd possibly pinging this as why he got on the bad side of the holy folk early. "- And the gal too call their power grab something even slightly close to well intentioned!

Thats not a thing i'd see from the highest, no sir!" he slams his mug on the counter. "fat as the dickens but a good fellow, this makes no damn sense in the slightest!" He began stiffling his words with more drink, face red from it, or perhaps from the topic...

Either way, it seems his tongue was loosened.

Arcanist Arcanist InsaneAsylum InsaneAsylum Takumi98 Takumi98
 
Sheridan Sasaki
​
The brazen, zealot wanted them to strip off their clothing to inspect if they had any signs of their imaginary illness. Sheridan highly doubted that they were infected with illness especially since they traveled all the way from the Crane Castle to here. If anything it would be more strange if they hadn't heard of the plague in the first place. Secluded as she was, at the very least news of a pandemic would have even reached her ears. Not to mention they were directed to head to this village in the first place. If the Shrine Maiden had sent them to the village knowing it had a plague, Sheridan was sure to resurrect her corpse and send it to whatever living relatives she had.

Regardless, she was planning to follow along with the zealot's command until the young tiger spoke up. Sheridan's eyes darted towards Yui in her refusal to remove an inch of clothing. The retainer, the more sensible one out of the two, opted to remain silent. It was worrisome to see the young tiger refuse to be inspected by the zealot. Worse comes to worse, the zealot would suddenly proclaim they were all infected with the virus and try to kill them. The stubborn tiger likewise would also fight them which would also drag them into combat.

Pretending have an arduous time to remove her clothing, Sheridan slowly slid her arm back into her shirt. It was still drenched and sticky from the swamp water that they had to move through. Regardless, she tried to find if she had any talismans in her clothing to spell cast with.

Whether or not Sheridan had time to cast it would depend on how fast the samurai would be. She looked up to the ninja and others. While their honesty at the time could be appreciated, she didn't know whether or not it would bite them back. Hopefully in any case they were safe from the eyes of the samurai.
 
Vivian Grivois | Lyari Morcant| Ashe Starvos
Between the two girls watching over Clara, Lyari had fallen asleep first and Vivian had a time trying to get her in bed without dropping her accidentally. From there she sat beside Clara and hummed a few tunes she had heard from her Mother or the nannies as lullabies until she started to drift off as well in her seat, rubbing her eyes and yawning but refusing to sleep just yet.


Meanwhile, as Adalbrecht let his tongue loosen, he felt a firm slap to the back between the shoulder blades. Soft enough to not cause any real damage but hard enough to be heard as a small muted thump. The owner of said hand was Tarkik, who had pulled up his own chair. Ashe had moved a bit closer to the group to keep a better eye for potential trouble. Or drunken stupidity.

"Best be careful not to let too much slip with your drinks." He spoke lowly for the two drunken nobles to hear, but for Adal moreso. All it took was the wrong set of words someone could pick up through the boisterous cheer, walking past ro get a drink from the bartender or whatnot and use it against them in some way or start trouble. While the man himself didn't bother with the stuff, he's seen how some act when under the influence.

Ashe had watched rhe exchange quietly, wondering how Adal would take to the other man giving his warning, and honestly hoped that he wouldn't have to help lug any of them back to the inn, or make sure they didn't drink enough to pickle their livers.

InsaneAsylum InsaneAsylum Orikanyo Orikanyo Arcanist Arcanist King Crimson King Crimson
 
Lady Clarabella of Gavenia
​
The world seemed to fall away before Clara's failing vision, her body feeling both completely weightless, and too leaden for her to move.
There was the short sensation that she was falling, only for something to catch her, soft, silken, warm to the touch.
"...'m...fine...onl...a..."
It was no use. She hadn't the strength left to speak. She could hear voices, dimly recognizable, yet too far away for her to understand, the whisper of some panicked girl on the other side of town, as she held on dearly to her friend that collapsed next to her.
Course fingers ran their way through her hair.
They felt like her father's hands, each soothing stroke pulling her deeper into the encroaching dark's comforting embrace.
Yes...it would be nice to rest...
...to close her eyes...
...To sleep...
...To dream...
---
It was the witching hours of a cold winter's night some 7 years' past in Chateau Gavenia. It's large, gilded halls filled with a dead silence that mingled hauntingly with the frigid mountain air.
There was but one sound that only scarcely managed to escape being swallowed by the all-consuming atmosphere; the light clatter of a young girl's footsteps, as she ventured trepidatiously through the manor's lower corridors.
Her favorite, stuffed dragoon was clutched close to her chest, unable to protect her from the unfathomable monster known as 'dread' that chased her, that painted her in a cold sweat that clung sickly to her body like a second skin.
She was naught to be here, in this wing of the manor, where many of the country's greatest minds and greatest hands toiled to design, invent and create a multitude of wonders in service to the betterment of Lunacresta, and it's people. It was here, tucked away in a small laboratory, where she would find the person she was so desperately seeking, working tirelessly throughout the night on some brilliant, new creation by torchlight; one of the greatest craftswomen to grace the land, the current Duchess of the Gavenia house, Lady Carmilla Muriel.
Unable to work up the nerve to speak, Clara stood silently in the doorway, watching her mother hunched over a large desk of masterfully carved oak, weaving together notes and equations of unfathomable intricacy with the grace and skill of a painter creating their masterpiece.
Hugging her Highwind doll tight to her chest, Clara at last built up the courage to take a step forward, only for a thin, spindly hand to seize her shoulder and pull her roughly back into the hallway, wheeling her around to face the all-to-familar scowling grimace of her head caretaker.
"Lady Clarabella!" She hissed in a hushed whisper, "You know well that you are not to wander about at this hour, and you are certainly not to disturb the Mistress while she works!"
"I-I--Forgive me Miss Matilda." Clara replied, wilting beneath the old woman's harsh stare.
"I had such a terrible dream...that Mother and Father and everyone else was gone, and I was all alone...I-I only wished to see--"
"It is but a nightmare and nothing more. Hardly worth the attention of the Mistress!"
the caretaker impatiently chides, before giving the young girl a gentle push in direction towards the hall's exit.
"Now off to bed with you. I shall have a cup of moongrove tea prepared shortly to aid in your sleep."
"Y-Yes ma'am...Thank you." Clara sighed in defeat.
It would be futile to argue, and would likely only lead to an even greater punishment waiting for her come morning.
Taking one last look back towards her mother's dwelling, Clara then departed, trudging back to her room by her lonesome.
With a contentious sigh of her own, Matilda grumbled quietly to herself, "Troublesome girl...just like her father..." as she watched the girl disappear down the hallway.
"I would ask for a cup of moongrove tea myself, if you would, Good Matilda." came a bemused voice from behind her, one that nearly sent her heart flying up to her brain.
"M-M-M'lady Camilla!" the crone exclaimed, wheeling around to face the noble woman waiting behind her, her sagged, wrinkled skin turning a stark white.
Such cruel irony, that in preventing a needless distraction to the Lady's craft, she had become a distraction herself!
"B-Beg pardon, Madame! I was merely seeing the young master back to her bed!" Matilda nervously explained, forcing on a fake smile to regain her lost composure.
"Hmm..." the noble hummed thoughtfully.
"...And what business would bring her here at such an hour?"
"Oh, it is a mere trivial matter. Some foolish dream of ill portent fouling her sleep. I shall see to it that she rests soundly for the night, so that you may continue your work without worry of such needless distractions!"
For a moment, the Duchess fell silent, only a small sigh escaping her in response, sending the old woman's racing heart crashing from her skull, all the way down to her feet, the fear that her callousness towards the child's troubles had caused offense.
"Very well...moongrove tea to stave away her terrors..." Camilla finally replied, before adding with a small, motherly smile,
"...And a fresh batch of sunrise pates, so that she may forget them come morning," before dismissing the servant with a wave of her hand.
"A-At your command, Master." the old maid dutifully responded, breathing a quiet sigh of relief, before giving the noble a courteous bow, and walking away, disappearing into the night at the end of the dimly lit hallway.
Alone once more, Camilla returned to her desk, gazing longingly at the scattered instruments of her life's work, a map of Lunacresta unfurled at their epicenter.
"Dreams..." she wistfully sighed, her hands tracing the mass of land at it's northern edge, forgotten by many, all but lost to her.
"What of them is so foolish?"
 
Gerran Perall | Lanthane Grivois
Interactions: InsaneAsylum InsaneAsylum , Orikanyo Orikanyo , Takumi98 Takumi98 | Mentions: -
​
Lanthane gave a drunken grin at Adal’s insistence that a man of his noble blood would never turn down the offer a drink. “Aye, dat’s the Rifienne sprit!” He giggled at his gesture of taking one full swig of the drink in his hand. Now this was the sort of break they all needed. A few drinks, a few hours to let their hair down after their trek in the desert. A celebration of being free men!

Sort of.

As the pale-haired noble ordered another drink, Lanthane nodded in agreement to his words – about the filth they were made to eat, that hot sake, Feurey – he wondered what exotic women he could have met if he had gone to visit, perhaps even if he got roped into some marriage arrangement no double – all of Adal’s words travelled through one ear, slipped out the other, all while he tried to keep such an attentive expression on his face. He simply giggled at parts he wasn’t meant to giggle at, muttered, “here, here” at statements that sounded like they needed it, and all the while tried to get every drop out of his cup.

“My brother…ah…which one waz it…one o’em anyway, says Fury is full o’ savages,” Lanthane leaned back, “from th’way they dress, to their shiddy reed houses. Better than the mud houses we got.” He shrugged. The poor had some awful housing in Rivienne. Some called the streets their home.

“Ahh…” Lanthane clumsily traced his finger around the edge of his cup. “Whatta a dung heap dat fat fuck got us into…” He slurred his somewhat less intelligent view on the matter. He had enough time to think about how horrible the Church was to turn on their nobles like that. The cheek! The nerve! The very gumption!

Lanthane sputtered a laugh at Tarkik’s scolding of Adalbrecht, not quite understanding that had also been targeted to him too. “Ya do let loose that tong too much, Adel,” he noted, lifted his cup to see if had any more left in it. He dropped the cup on the table, unamused by the lack of drink left in it.

By then, Gerran had decided to wander over too, mostly to try and keep that dog Lanthane on a tight leash before his lips revealed too much. Though, that didn’t seem to be a problem as Lanthane had called to him.

“Ger! Wha’s your type?”

“My type?” Gerran raised a brow.

“Of woman!” Lanthane clarified incredulously and he thought to clarify further as Gerran stayed silent, which he took to as confusion. “Like ‘em big? Tinsie? Feisty? Eh?”

Gerran was still quiet, though, simply answered, “I don’t have a type.”

Lanthane groaned. “Every man hazza type!” He insisted, looking to Adal with a grin. “Like Brecht! Bet ya like curves, dontcha? And Tarkik! Yer…a fan of redheads!”
 
Adalbrecht Cocksburrow.


"Right right, sorry!" the young man exclaims to the world, brushing off his earlier breaches of subterfuge. But another topic, one that is so very hidden deep in his heart came to play... "Aye- Well, from the ones i've seen come north they got this... Finery thats.. hard to put to words.." his thoughts of Feury, were kinda hard to put forward. "But hoo their ladies, hair like silk, clothes just give em exactly what they need to show off, but still keep to that degree of what is proper. Seen one girl, some sorta dancer from down there, she had damn legs for days I tell yea!

But, that goes into me answer, one moment. "

Another drink, this one was a long one, wetting his whistle before he blows.

"it- Hic - Ain't enough to have curves Lan, theres several things that gotta come together to make peak beauty in a conventional sense, keep in mind each gal gots a different peak, no less than any other I say.

take.. Take a gal from my home town, predisposed to having large... Well bugger it chests, why? Cause thats comes down to family lines right? So, most men in this world likes a gal with large ones, if we're talking just from a-" He burps, loudly. "-Purely scienfisic shand point its what the dog down below like ey? Same for lasses with large hips, curves yea know? Like eya said. That comes from good health and good food while growin, times of plenty means good things and more people, so the body wants that to happen.

Not ta mention big hips are good for survive when the lil' barn comes out finally, so the instinct is to go for healthy hips!

But I tell you, that is just the supreme BASICS of what we all gotta deal with. Everyone knows bigger is better. But I swear, to the goddess there ain't nothin' in this world wrong with a gal with small assets, cause i'll tell you that what smaller gals lack in material they got more gumption than wolf in heat. Somethin- Hic - somethin about their size just COMPRESSES that shit inside.

Don't get me started on short girls who got the earlier package, my boys yea wont survive em! Dryer than the desert you'll end up, father of nine you'll be.

Course yea can NEVER discount intelligence, seeing WHAT a gal is is fine, but it's WHO they are that you'll be living with, even for a night or three.

If YOu see that kinda gal as boring, thats cause yea haven't seen em in their prime, a gal with a head on her sssshoudlers is worth ten fold than some fool lookin for a romp. Aye, second is good for a night but you hold onto the first, cause a smart girl knows how to work with what shes got.

And that makes ANYTHING hot!"

With a wave of his hand he speaks his final words, his speech over, his words true and from the heart...

not knowing he was probably gonna die soon.

"..But for me I like ladies who got muscle, abs are hot..."

Alright that might do it.

Arcanist Arcanist InsaneAsylum InsaneAsylum @ Everyone else in the bar.

@ Everyone outside the bar I guess to? he is loud.
 
As the sun began to rise over the port town, the unconscious bodies of the drunks were slowly illuminated one by one. Some were awoken the morning light, and rose to their feet, slowly stumbling home. Others were too far gone to notice the light as they were stuck in too deep of a sleep. The morning light signaled the start of the day in Capybara Town. The townsfolks began exiting their homes and heading off to work, while others ventured out to look for their alcoholic brethren. Slowly but surely, the docks became busier and busier as the morning went on. Fishing boats were launched out to sea, with small crew manning each one. This was an average day in Capybara Town. The ragged group of soldiers in their town was the most interesting thing that had happened to them in awhile. Even then, day to day life changed little.

However, something was on its way to spice up the lives of the townsfolk. A speck dotted the sun as it worked its way off of the horizon. A keen eye would notice that the speck was growing larger over time. One such individual did in fact notice this.

"Any of you boys care to lend me a lens?" Morgan asked, standing on the dock over a group of fishermen. The fishermen were just about to head out when the general approached them. One nodded before ruffling through a duffle bag. In a few moments, he pulled out a small telescope, and handed it to the ginger. Morgan took it and tried to look out at the growing dot. It was hard to see witht eh sun in the background, and she was forced to squint her eyes. Luckily, the sun was still low, and wasn't blasting brightness at full force. There was a shape Morgan was able to make out. It was a ship. A navy ship.

"Why are they coming now?" Morgan asked aloud, tossing the scope back to the fishermen and briskly walking off. "Where are those damn nobles..." she asked herself as she wandered back out into town.

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

One by one, Morgan collected each of the nobles from wherever they were tucked away. It was arduous labor convincing some of them to actually get up, but she had at least convinced the majority of them. Once she had them gathered, Morgan sat them down in small grassy area to discuss the coming threat.

"The navy is coming," Morgan began bluntly. "we could leave town right now, but I have no doubt they'll hear about us from the townsfolk and know we aren't a legitimate part of the Rivienne Army anymore. Our little story would raise red flags for any soldier with half a brain." Morgan paused, brushing her hair from her face. "I propose that we steal this ship for ourselves. It'll be a difficult task, but I have no doubt that we can do it. We'll need a group of you to sneak onto the ship and take control of it while they're trying to resupply. I'm sure many of these navy troops will want to grab food and drink while they're in town, so there shouldn't be too much opposition once you're on the ship. I'll also need at least one you to provide a distraction, and slow down their resupply process. While all that's going on, I'll try to gather up as many of our friends from prison as I can to help us take care of everything else."

Morgan was quiet for a few moments. "Is this plan suitable for you all, or does anyone have a better suggestion? If not, I suggest we get go-"

Several yells were heard from the docks as fishermen worked to make space for the navy ship as it pulled in. The ship was massive. It was made of a light tan wood, with a metal frame keeping it sturdy. Three rows of cannons lined the sides of the ship, and the sails stood high. The flag of Rivienne flew gently in the wind. At the bow of the ship, standing over and gazing upon the port was the aging admiral of the ship. "Were there always this many peasants living here?" He asked himself as he turned and strode out of sight.

Morgan turned back to the nobles. "Well... what'll it be? Turn and flee or snag a a ship straight out of the navy's hands?"

Orikanyo Orikanyo The Black Knight The Black Knight King Crimson King Crimson Takumi98 Takumi98 Arcanist Arcanist
 
His body stirred. Suddenly, he felt like he was floating. His shoulders were first to lift off the ground, and then his legs and hips. Blue eyes cracked open as morning light spilled into them, forcing them to close once more in irritation. All other sensations were assaulting his senses from the cool, soupy feeling in his gut to the fissure of pain dividing his skull. His landing was hard. His whole back struck metal. He had been dumped into a basin!

Locke tipped back his head, feeling the rim of the wheelbarrow against the back of his neck. His face was pale. Dried, crusty spittle and perhaps chum ran across the side of his right cheek. He reeked of alcohol, vomit, and sexual musk. His clothes had gone somewhere and Hiro was quick to toss a set of new and clean ones into his lap.

Shaia had her eyes turned away. Her nose wrinkled in disgust. “He looks like death,” she said.

Hiro’s own nose was wrinkled. The offense to his senses were far greater. “I am surprised the poison hadn’t taken him.”

The fox lifted the wheelbarrow and before he could take another step, Locke raised his hand to stop him. The dragoon pointed with an arm hanging limply over the side of the wheelbarrow to a drain. “Check there,” he told them.

Shania’s amethyst eyes rolled over to the drain and rather than risk her own hand within it, she removed an arrow and used it to scoop up what she found to be a money sack. Her brows rose in surprise and she regarded Locke. “Did you steal this?”

“They tried to get more than that gold button…” He turned his head to expel a silent burp that could have been a dry retch. “My services aren’t free.”

Shania rolled her eyes so hard they could have unscrewed themselves and fallen out of their sockets. “Oh sweet gods…” she groaned.

Hiro’s brows were twitching in irritation. “I suppose your…debauchery was useful.”

Locke closed his eyes and smirked. When he opened them again, the wheelbarrow was parked with the rest of the group. Everyone was talking about the navy or whatever, while he was trying to bite the cork off of a water skin. He felt so weak. His brain swam and he had the urge to either shit or vomit, perhaps both at once.

Hiro and Shania had been listening to Morgan and watching as the massive naval ship pulled in. The archer whispered to Hiro, “They want to steal that? It’s enormous!”

Hiro frowned in contemplation and he shared with her. “Normally, I would think a plan like that would be insane, but the ship is docked. We don’t have to deal with cannons. We just need to wait until they finish their drop anchor procedures. As soon as majority of the sailors leave…”

The fox looked over at the back of naked Locke. Shania’s eyes followed and she smirked impishly, “A distraction…”

Locke paused with his teeth still clenched about the stubborn cork. He felt eyes on him and slowly turned at the waist to see both Hiro and Shania staring at him. He glowered at them. “Always with the dirty jobs…”

Shania rested her hands upon her hips and beamed, “Takes a dirty man to do a dirty job. It suits you.”

“I have a fucking headache; I feel like I want to shit out of my mouth and arse; I want to put on my nice, comfortable clean clothes and wet my throat with the water in this damned skin! The last thing I want to do is be a fucking distraction!” he growled.

Hiro smiled then. “That’s the perfect mood for the job. I’ll hold onto your clothes for you.”

“I hate both of you.”

Shania giggled and shrugged, “It’s not like we rescued you from an impenetrable prison.”

“I would have gotten out any way.”

“So ungrateful,” Hiro replied still smiling.
Arcanist Arcanist InsaneAsylum InsaneAsylum King Crimson King Crimson Orikanyo Orikanyo Takumi98 Takumi98
 
Lady Clarabella of Gavenia
​
The ground felt soft beneath her, and in her confused, half-waking fugue did she register that she had moved somewhere unfamiliar to her.
Was she back home?
Was it all just another terrible dream?
No, she needed only to open her eyes, and look up at the crude wooden ceiling, feel the course, cloth blanket upon her hands, and feel the prickling of a hay bed beneath her to have reality strike her with it's cruel truth.
Yes, she remembered now; the coup, the prison, the village, the--
"--Princess!"
The realization of her royal companion's absence struck her like a bolt of thunder, clearing whatever fog still clung to her mind, traveling down to her spine, sending her nearly flying out of her bed.
It was only when she turned her head to find Vivienne sleeping soundly at her side, and Lyari sleeping in the bed adjacent, did relief wash over her, followed shortly by realization of how she had come to be here, and then, shame.
"Forgive me, your Highness. I must have caused you such worry," she sighed quietly to herself, draping her covers gently over the sleeping princess, and planting her feet unsteadily on the floor.
She felt better than she had prior to her collapse, but some lightheadedness still stubbornly remained. Likely from a lack of meaningful sustenance, if the grumbling in her stomach was any indication.
Thankfully, there was a meager spread of food already prepared for them.
Seems she would be having breakfast with the princess after all...at least in a sense.

Taking a red, ripened apple, and a fist-sized ball of hardened, stone-like bread from the table, Clara opened the single, rustic window adorning the wall, letting the welcoming caress of seabreeze spill into the room.
She cursed silently to herself, seeing the first rays of dawn over the horizon, as she took a small bite from her fruit (the bread was proving to be quite the adversary).
Inadvertently, she had slept well into the next day. She would need to work quickly if she were to gather supplies before they depart.

After finishing her breakfast, and taking a most welcome bath, Clara discarded her not-so-welcome prisoner's rags, replacing them with a simple, albeit functional hempen tunic.
The clothes of a peasant, but at least she was finally clean.
Peeking her head out of the inn door, Clara was greeted with the small, growing murmurs of a marketplace just beginning it's morning rituals, sparsely populated, mostly with merchants preparing for the coming swarm of eager buyers.
She would be joining them, soon enough.
And she had some very specific purchases in mind.
---
"One-fifty, and I ain't goin' any lower, little missus!"
"Is that so, mister?" Clara replied, turning her head to the side in mock disappointment.
She had been haggling with the town baker for a good while now, playing the role of a sweet, innocent young lass buying groceries, but he was proving to be quite the miser, far too old and experienced to be moved by such simple things as youthful charm, or crocodile tears.
However, he hadn't proved invincible to her mercantile finesse, which had already earned her a decent discount on what she was after, and yet still, she had a trump card lying in wait.
With a small hum, she turned head towards the door, feigning a loss of interest.
"Well, I'm sad to hear that, Mister Baker..." Clara mournfully sighed, taking a few steps towards the door, stopping just short of leaving.
"...I didn't want to, because they looked a bunch more expensive, but I guess I could try going to that new bakery a little down the way..."
"W-Wha--!! New bakery!!?" The baker gasped, indignation clear on his face.
It was good she had turned away from him, lest he see the devilish grin of victory writ on her face.
A critical blow, she had him dead to rights.
The portly man quickly rushed to stop her, placing a hand firmly on her shoulder.
"H-Hold on now, little missus!" He desperately stammered, his voice dripping with fake compassion that hardly masked his anxiety.
"You don't want to go to them! That simpleton couldn't cook a hot coal! And he'd call it fine dining and charge you a bloody fortune for it, too!"
No response.
"T-Tell you what, I'll let you have it for One-Forty, how's that sound?"
Keep pushing...
"Err... h-how 'bout One-twenty!?"
She took one more step toward the door.
"A-Alright, alright! 90! 90! Please!!"
Clara finally turned to face the man, brandishing, the purest, warmest smile in all the kingdom.
"Thank you, mister! I'll be sure to tell mama and papa all about how kind you were to me!"

An exchange of coin, a shuffling of parchment, and the deed was done, along with the last of Clara's shopping list.
She'd done quite well for herself, gathering a few necessities, a few gifts and investments for her traveling companions, and with some of the money left over, she had even managed to buy a cake to share with the princess when she awakens!

For the first time since she had fled her home, at last she felt triumph, a comfort knowing that she could survive whatever this world had to throw at her.

That changed however, when she saw a familiar-looking general standing outside of her inn.
And from the uncharacteristically grim look on her face, she came bearing ill tidings.
--
"What you propose sounds like a most spectacular form of suicide, General," Clara states flatly, her arms crossed across her chest.
"Should we be discovered, we would hold the ire of not only the local constabulary, but the entire navy." Her eyes harden scanning the dock where the ship was being brought to port.
Dozens of men scrambling about to prepare for it's arrival among the docks, and a great dozen more aboard the ship scrambling in preparation of landfall.
No two ways about it; they were outnumbered by a decisively wide margin, and there were other issues to consider, as she went on to continue, "And even if we were successful, what would we do then? No dock in Rivienne would allow us entry, and I've doubts that Feurey would offer such asylum. We would be welcome only to the numerous leviathans lying in wait beneath the waters."
A heavy sigh escapes her, the dreaded, familiar feeling that she was trapped with no way out welling up once more in her chest.
"...However..." She hesitantly adds. The last time that she had felt such helplessness was in the bowels of that infernal prison, and they had managed to escape that.
What's more, her sharp, watchful eyes spied a small, fleeting opportunity amongst the bustling dock hands.
"...Forced to travel on foot, news of the lost vessel may yet travel slowly, perhaps slow enough that we may find safer shores for port. If we're prudent with our timing, we may also escape with a generous supply to comfortably manage the rest of our voyage, and one of the kingdom's finest galleons, no less..."
"Very well." She resolves, turning back towards her gathered crewmates with determined eyes.
"It is most certainly a great risk, but I find the freedom of the waters, or the stomach of some great beast far more attractive an option than a second trek through the desert."
With her finger casts towards the docks, she points towards a large, ramshackle warehouse lying within the center of the chaos, surrounded by numerous mountains and hills of wooden boxes. Rough, tanned laborers constantly shifting them about like ants building nests.
"If I may propose; I believe that those crates being loaded aboard are of sufficient size for some few of...stature... akin to mine own to steal away in, unnoticed."
Resting her chin upon her thumb and forefinger in thought, she muses, "Hmm...But what we would do once aboard is another trifling matter..."

Interacting:
Lanthane/Ayka/Gerran, Arcanist Arcanist
Adelbrecht, Orikanyo Orikanyo
Vivian/Lyari/Ashe Takumi98 Takumi98
Lockeheed/Hiro/Shaia The Black Knight The Black Knight
Morgan InsaneAsylum InsaneAsylum
 
Ashe Starvos
Ashe watched as the topic shifted to preference of women and wasn't sure if he should be grateful about it or not. Instead he simply sat back and let the two drunk nobles go in their triad, not bothering with adding anything to this string of conversation.


Tarkik meanwhile, turned his head to Lan as he spoke to him. He blinked, then his brows rose as an amused glint shone in his eyes.

"What gave you the impression that I liked redheads?" He asked, amused and deciding not to confirm or deny the nobles assessment of his type.


Vivian Grivois | Lyari Morcant | Ashe Starvos

Even as Clara called to the noble as she woke, Vivian barely stirred in her slumber other than a twitch of her eyebrow and and fingers, as if she were going to respond in some manner before ultimately returning into the depths of dreams. Lyari, however, had snored and kicked in her sleep upon Clarabella's outburst yet didn't wake.

When Vivian was roused from her sleep she was pleased to see Clara up and moving, perking up and smiling brightly as she was quick to express how glad she was to see the other girl seemed to be feeling better. The blonde was surprised to learn that the other had bought a cake while she and her white haired companion slept, but before she could ask about it and also thank and check up on Clara's wellbeing Morgan had arrived with news to share.

---​

With everyone gathered and given a run down of their next course of action, Vivian was partially distracted by the fact that one of their members was naked as a newborn and in a wheelbarrow.

Having had to bare witness to the man's backside in the depths of their shared prison during their escape she wasn't as embarrassed at the fact that he was indeed naked for some reason. It was still there, but her focus was on the fact that he seemed to be sick, and she had quietly slipped away from Clara's suggestion of those of similar height sneaking aboard to approach the Dragoon as he struggled with the cork in a water skin, and carefully took it from him before tugging on the cork herself. With a bit of wiggling and a twist, it eventually gave way with a pop and she handed it back to him while avoiding looking at his barely covered body. Part of her pointer finger stung, likely from half scraping the digit in a way while dealing with the cork, but when it came to the slightly reddened skin she simply shook her hand as if it may help in any way as she made her way back to the rest.

"Getting in that way sounds rather easy, for us at least, but..." Vivian commented on Clarabella's suggestion, frowning in thought as she trailed off before chewing lightly at her bottom lip. The thought crossed her mind of having a few in their party attempt to carry the boxes they'd be hiding in aboard while the distraction was in place and perhaps it could work, but their luck could only get them so far. The thought didn't occur to her that some in their party likely couldn't even sail.

InsaneAsylum InsaneAsylum Arcanist Arcanist Orikanyo Orikanyo King Crimson King Crimson The Black Knight The Black Knight
 
Umeko - Miyaori Village
Pepsionne Pepsionne , Misuteeku Misuteeku , Shadow Dancer Shadow Dancer​

The first of those that had arrived looking to cooperate was the ninja. He kept good on his word and started stripping off his armour, including a wound that he revealed. Umeko nodded to one of her comrades, who approached Hibiki to inspect him. She was pleased to see some of the others of their group were also cooperating, with their samurai being next and their healer following suit also. Two more of Umeko’s comrades stepped forward to inspect them.

Umeko looked to Naoko as she enquired about the symptoms of the said plague. “It is a difficult infection to spot. We have heard you can feel nauseous, light-headed, that your heart rate elevates…” She shook her head though. “But it depends, person by person. I’ve heard it drives people…” She struggled to say the word. “To…certain…behaviours.” It was the best way she could describe it.

The three comrades of Umeko looked back to their leader, shaking their heads. It seemed as if they were in the clear. The other three, however, did not signal that clearance.
And they refused to do so, at least, from a short distance.

Umeko slowly turned to look at Yui. She cocked her head for a moment, simply staring between her and Ryuichi as they refused her men to come closer. She saw one or two of the six comrades she had with her turn their gazes to her, hands slipping to their weapons themselves. Though, slowly, the samurai started to…laugh. A strange, embittered, yet unstable laugh.

“No wounds…no wounds. That’s just what some of the villagers said…” Umeko told her, shaking her head. “But they were liars. Liars, all of them…” She was steadfast in her words, clenching her fist. Cleansing was the only way she could rid them all of this vile, vile disease…could these travellers not see that? Were they so blind that they couldn’t see the consequences of letting this spread?!

Umeko unsheathed her blade. Her soldiers with her seemed to do the same. Though, she made no move to attack. “I will give you one final chance,” she told them, hand gripping the hilt of her blade, “to rectify your choice. Else, we will have no choice but to dispatch you…” She told them grimly. “We cannot be sure of how far the pestilence has spread…the disease…it cannot be allowed…” She told the group. Somewhere, in the distance, it was thought groaning could be heard. A pained, prolonged one. It seemed to go unnoticed amongst the burning flames and the words of the crazed samurai.
 
character.jpgcharacter2.jpg
Yui | Ryuichi​

Ryuichi could sense a visible change in not only the addressing Samurai, but all of her followers gathered behind. Yui’s fiery rejection to be inspected was not going over smoothly with them. He didn’t necessarily want to be inspected either, but judging by everyone else in their group and the heavy exhaustion sloughing off of their shoulders, it wouldn’t be wise to stake their claim here.

He subtly moved his arm to encircle his hand around Yui’s wrist, pressing his thumb firmly into the pressure point. Yui looked over at him, objection and disobedience lining every feature of her expression. She didn’t want to give in, not now, not to these people. The words that the Samurai woman had said mere moments before still echoed in her mind. The villagers had no wounds, yet they still slaughtered them with no remorse. Her eyes floated back to the carnage behind them. It reminded her of the scene they had just left at the Temple. A village reduced to smoldering ashes, for what?

The consistent, even pressure Ryuichi applied to her wrist intensified briefly as he called her attention back to the moment at hand. Yui’s fiery determination felt like it had been put out with a wave of cold water, leaving nothing but hissing steam to cloud her determination. She was tired. Tired of mass death, tired of witnessing the crushing foot of an oppressor on the necks of those in their way.

Yui looked off to the side, pushing down the torn and dirtied sleeves on her arms before holding them up for the Samurai to inspect. The anger of having to give in to them made her throat hurt, and she blinked away hot tears that began to pool in her eyes.
 


How much pain have you suffered oh young one?

To come to our doorstep for guidance? He has suffered greatly no doubt.

"Where... Where am I?"

In the land between.

You fell from the world above.

Or perhaps it is below us?

Or maybe, it is simply side by side?

It matters not young human, you needn't trifle yourself with strife in our presence.

"I... Who...?"

Who? We have no name.

No need for such things. Ours is a realm of peace and tranquility, we are companions to all. Companion to you, during this momentary dream. And a source of wisdom you should hear. This world is fraught with danger, horror and monsters abound. What this world requires in heroes, and you are but one of many who took up the sword, when others could not. So very fully burdened, but we must ask of you but one thing more in your quest...

So cruel are we to do so, but it must be done...

"..Wha....What is it you need?"

So quick to offer your aid, are you truely a knight of darkness? No matter, we simply ask, that you, Knight of the Rooster, is that you BWORK-

"Huh!?"

i said that you must BWEEYORK

"EH!?!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Capybara standing nearby Adalbrecht's head barked once more, the passed out young man had been in it's sunning spot long enough, and it was his turn. Adalbrecht however, could only rise a hand to his forehead and sit up. He wasn't far out of town, but as the sting of the morning light and hangover finally allowed him to see, he could tell where he was... he was surrounded, flanked and generally accepted by a herd of large furred rodents that gave the town it's namesake.

Half of his body was in this... heated pond? And really it was a true tranquil scene all around him, large capybara, small ones, all occasionally giving out chirps of joy as they peaceful coexisted with each other...

Adalbrecht struggled up, holding his head in pain once more as the sudden movement hurt him greatly, what... was he doing last night? What was that dream about? And... Why... Was he in his armor? His sword was nearby to, unsheathed? Was that blood?

...

Best he return to town and find the others...

Leave these beasts to their.... Well.. Nothing... And they seem rather content to having that on the schedule.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Adabrecht had seen the ships coming in and only showed up in the ass end of Clara's words. They were sneaking in to the ships? Ah... Hmm.. to.. get supplies? maybe.. an escape? getting out of Rivienne lands and onto a seaworthy vessel would certainly speed them along.. At least till they find no ports will take them.. Hmm...

"...if we have a vessel... We can likely start to try and... Contact some like minded people. Course thats all after the fact but... Well.. it can certainly help us in the long run.

You mention Feurey... last I heard, in fighting has occured abound within their clans, last I heard before... We had our own case of hellish sorts trying to sieze controll. If theres any sort that'd start fighting it'd be those tiger fellows...

but we shouldn't write off the folks yet, if needed, we can possibly test the waters down there.

As for the act of getting the ship... We'd also need enbough man power to take, hold it, and then be able to man it. What source of commotion would require the navy to all but leave a small amount of people on the ship long enough for us to get that many like minded people aboard and have it moving before they got back?

...Fire on the other ships..?"
 
Sheridan Sasaki
​
There was a tense moment between when the zealot samurai received the tiger's rejection. Things weren't looking too good as the samurai and her follower were on the brink of slaughtering for the sake of cleansing whatever virus they had. Biting her lip, Sheridan reached over and grabbed a talisman. Dark magic was a time consuming magic, so she could only use the basic spells as the others were not fast enough for the little amount of time they had. However Sheridan still hesitated to cast the spell. Even if she did succeed in casting the spell, it would only draw attention her and receive their wrath. Being cut into pieces by a bunch of zealots was not her ideal way to go out.

Much to her relief the vassal of the hot blooded tiger seemed to dissuade her from refusing any longer. Immediately, Sheridan dropped the spell. While she didn't see if the man was able to calm down the young girl from refusing, she decided to take the chance and crumbled the talisman within the palm of her hand. It was better letter her take the zealot's wrath rather suffer it herself. The tiger samurai seemed to relent though she did not seem to enjoy facing the reality of their situation.

Letting out a small sigh of relief, Sheridan was most likely the last one to let the zealots inspect her. Pulling up her sleeves and even a little of her shirt's collar to allow them to inspect. While she did not enjoy the thought of allowing these zealots see her body, it wasn't the first time that someone had examined her body. Her mentor had done it before time after time when she had survived his experiment.

Sheridan furrowed her eyes as she thought she had heard something. Perhaps it was just imagination and stress that was getting to her. In any case it wasn't her problem as she was going to get inspected by the zealots.
 
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