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Fandom Fire Emblem: Revolution

torchik37

Chrom's Biggest Fan
And so it begins. PLEASE read the rules before posting! The current plot revolves around the Shepherds recapturing a coastal village from the Plegians who have occupied it!
 
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The clatter of steel rang out in the air, signaling that the battle had begun somewhere in the village. Unfortunately, Tillin was not sure where. During their descent into the seaside village, he had been riding near the backlines--the usual place of a cleric--but as the Shepherds broke off into groups, he had taken a wrong turn and lost track of his allies. On the bright side, the village that he now stood in, Cantor, was not far from his own town, and he had visited quit a few times while growing up. With this shallow knowledge, he had been able to take himself to the small shopping quarter in the northeast of the town. While he had no intention of shopping around while his friends risked their lives fighting, the crowded area would at least provide him with some protection until he found one of his allies. Tillin was no fighter, only armed with a wooden staff that a glowing orb on top. Many resented being relegated to the role of cleric, wishing instead to take part in the frontline battles, where glory could be won. However, Tillin knew that even the greatest heroes depended on their healers to prevent them from falling in battle, and he took pride in that fact.


Speaking of heroes, he had had no intention of joining the Shepherds in the first place, preferring to simply stay in his hometown and practice his magic. Tillin's town was one of the few remaining outposts of Ylisse, so the war had not had too much of an effect on his personal life yet. Even when the Shepherds had shown up, recruiting those who were willing to fight for Ylisse, Tillin had simply returned to his home. It was not until he had seen Prince Chrom in person that his mind had been changed. The prince was not only incredibly handsome, but had a commanding personality with a caring aura. Even after falling for him, Tillin still felt hesitant about joining the Shepherds, not wanting to leave his comfortable life behind. It was only when he received a personal plea from Chrom to join them due to their lack of healers that he accepted. There was simply no way he could deny when asked directly.


In his time with the Shepherds, he had yet to see a battle and he knew this would be the first. Tillin looked around for a sign of fighting, able to hear it, but not see it. What use was a healer if he wasn't with an ally? With a resigned sigh, the boy decided he would leave the safety of cover and try to find Chrom or another ally to convene with. He carefully pushed through the crowd of people until he reached the edge, then began walking towards the city center. He continued at a brisk pace, undisturbed, for a few minutes until he heard a rough voice speak.


"I haven't seen you around this village, boy," stated the voice. Tillin ignored it and continued to walk, starting to get a little nervous. He spun around nervously as he felt the soldier grab the back of his white robe, tugging slightly. "Oi, I'm talking to you."


"I...I'm a local!" Tillin replied, his nerves getting the best of him. The guard scanned him up and down, his eyes falling on a small silver crest pinned to his robe.


"A local, eh? That looks more like the crest of a Shepherd to me," the guard accused, pointing to the pin. Crap, he had thought that he had taken the pin off! His cover was broken already. Not wasting a moment, Tillin brought his staff around and smacked the man in the face with it, causing the soldier to release his grip on the boy's robes. He knew that there was no way he could fight the Plegian, so he did what any sensible person would: ran. Tillin hurtled down the street, white robe and pink hair flowing wildly in the wind, as he tried to make it to the city center. Hopefully his allies would be there or else he would end up in a less than optimal situation.
 
Not far from the battlefield, seated on the outskirts of the main city, was a grouping of tents for the Plegian operation. Though they already had a small force in the city before hand, as they had in all Ylissian cities they had occupied since their take-over, once word of the Shepherds arrival had reached certain ears, it hadn't taken long for recruits to arrive from along the coast.


"Cantor is too valuable to be lost-" "-Valuable point of trade!" "-mongrels need to be snuffed out"


Yadda yadda, so-on-and-so-forth.



Basically the same argument they had about every city the shepherds tried to take - with changes in descriptions of why a certain terrain was valuable. Not enough of the more powerful generals could just up and quit what they were doing, but she had been stationed at a strong hold nearby, allowing easy access when summoned to the defense of Cantor. However, the group of so called "strategists" in every stronghold always had the same things to gripe about.



Moments like this was when she missed her little city on the shore. As Plegia settled into it's rule of more land, members of its militia had been spread out simply to observe. She, had been one of them. Assigned to watch Port Ferox with the intent of catching any ships wandering over from Valm to try and cause distress, Camilla had been living a rather peaceful life since their take over of Ylisse. Ferox and Valm were still their own, but as long as she didn't flaunt her Plegian dedication, no one seemed to mind her. Her and her subordinates caused no issues - she did not like to be associated with the more common bullies of The Plegian army. But, thanks to The Shepherds acting up again, she hardly ever got to return to The Port for long periods of time before she was summoned elsewhere.



Chalard, a more cowardly Dark Mage, had unfortunately met her here, he was rambling on about something.. She, in truth, had tuned it out. Though he was technically of higher rank that she, she had no respect for the spindly man. He represented everything that had gone wrong with her country, and her people.



"-Camilla, who will be leading a group to cut the head off the snake. If we can end Chrom once and for all, these fools will cease to be an issue."


Oh? Guess that was her cue. Camilla had been standing on the sidelines, content to let the weak men like Chalard, too cowardly to fight on front lines, decide the battle plan. As long as it wasn't overly stupid, she didn't mind just doing what she was told so she could get this over with and go home. This was, however, her first direct encounter with the Shepherds themselves, and not some random uprising of angry citizens or a random batch of former Ylissian military. Already in full suit of armor, the tall woman stood with her arms crossed over her chest, waiting patiently for a decision. She was never eager to kill, though she did appreciate a good battle as much as the next warrior. Because that's what she was. A warrior born and bred.



Finally they decided on a flimsy excuse for a plan, though it should suffice. The Shepherds had long proved slippery, but she was not concerned. If her group was heading to wipe out Chrom, then wipe out Chrom she would, even if it meant losing her life in the process. Once Chrom was taken care of, Ylisse would succumb quietly to Plegia's rule.



Leaving the tent, Camilla sighed softly. Standing around for official business like that always bored her. It would make her life much easier if they just waited and summoned her when a decisive plan of action had been made. But, being as it were, dedication came at a price. She was required to attend gatherings such as that, and listen to the ignorant drivel of men like Chalard. Sure, his tomes made him rather formidable, but take away one of those flimsy books..the man was ancient! He probably couldn't even lift his arm to throw a punch, let alone actually do damage.



Without thinking, the woman sighed again. Frustrating.



Taking long strides through the small encampment she headed towards where the horses had been set up, thinking to gather her own weaponry and her steed before meeting with whoever to head to the center of Cantor. They would assign others to join her - thankfully she didn't have to sit around for that part. The strategists would gather those that they recruited for each task in the center of their encampment, needing multiple task forces to handle the shepherds spread out groups in this case, explain each goal to each individual group, and so on and so forth.. She had been excused to prepare for battle, and would be expected to return post-haste. For all the things her country lacked, she was thankful they were at least organized.



Though the bulk of the main force located in Cantor had met the Shepherds, the recruits, such as herself, had yet to join the battle. It would be interesting to see how the tides might turn. The Shepherds no doubt already knew that reinforcements had arrived...were they afraid? Would they run, evading Plegia's grasp yet again?



The walk gave her a moment to breathe fresh air, not yet tainted by the smell of blood and the sound of clashing steel, though there was the echo of such things in the distance. It tasted of salt - that much was at least similar to Port Ferox. The walk also allowed her time to wonder who might be assigned to join her.. Well, time would tell. Hopefully, this would be over with quickly, and with minimal casualties.



 
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The salty air of the town stung Aeon's lungs as he stood outside the local tavern, his shaggy black hair blowing in the breeze. He silently cursed himself for coming here, for all foreigners who were in Ylisse during the war that broke out between them and Plegia were not allowed to leave the country just yet. In fact, no one was able to leave the country yet. Aeon used his non-shielded hand to rub his tired, pale blue eyes. It wasn't uncommon for mercs like him to have periods of nothing to do like this, but he absolutely hated it. He had managed to get himself a reputation after coming here as the 'Amethyst Hero', but even so, that rep meant nothing if he couldn't find a job with it. He adjusted the heavy plating covering his pale white skin and decided to talk a walk around the town square because...well, there wasn't anything else to do.


As he began his walk around the crowded square, looking at this and that and a few merchants selling their wares, a small commotion broke it. It looks like some sort of Plegian guard is harassing a Cleric of sorts, judging from the robes, staff, and all around pacifist demeanor. He began to walk over slowly, listening to their conversation as he walked. At the mention of Shepherd, his eyes lit up. His thoughts became wild.


"A Shepherd?! Here!? This is my chance! I can finally be able to lend an actual hand in the war!"


However, during the time where he talked to himself, the Cleric appeared to have hit the guard on the head and run off in the direction of the town center. Aeon quickly started to make his way through the crowd, trying to catch the Cleric's attention.


"Hey! Wait up! I can help you!"
 
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It had been a while since Tillin had run so fast. It was at the same time, both thrilling and exhausting. He dashed down the street, pushing past villagers as he looked over his shoulder at his pursuer. The Plegian soldier was easily keeping pace, even in his armor, and it made the boy wonder how fast the man could run without the heavy metal weighing him down. Looking back in front of him, Tillin was horrified to see three more Plegian soldiers, chattering idly in the middle of the street. Didn't they know there was a battle going on? The cleric guessed that the Plegians were well aware that their numbers dwarfed those of the Shepherds and were not putting much effort into the battle. This could be their downfall, as the Shepherd's were known for being able to turn tides. A sudden shout filled the air, causing Tillin to turn his head back to where it had come from and bump into the man in front of him, dropping his staff. The man let out a curse, kicking the staff to the side before continuing down the road.


Tillin could see the soldier was almost upon him, and behind the soldier, another man was signaling to him to wait. The cleric squinted, trying to get a better look at his features. The black hair and armor were foreign to him--that man was no Shepherd. Why did he want to help the boy? Still, it didn't seem as if Tillin had much choice. By now, the Plegian soldier had completely closed the distance, stabbing out at the healer with his lance. Tillin dodged to the right and began to make his way towards his new, possible ally, but remembered his staff. He turned back, narrowly dodging another swing from the lance, then dove for the staff. To his surprise, he actually managed to roll quite nimbly, lifting himself back to his feet. Maybe he should have tried out a different profession that required more agility. The thought quickly vanished as the soldier stabbed at him once more. This time, the boy couldn't quite get out of the way, and the metal tip slashed through his robe, leaving a gash on his left arm. He let out a cry of pain, never having been injured in battle before, but kept his cool. Gripping the wound he circled around the man and made a break for his new ally.


"Who are you?" he asked as he got within speaking distance, out of breathe. He shook his head, deciding it didn't quite matter at the moment. "Nevermind that, can you fight? That soldier is well trained!"


He ran behind the black-haired man then turned to face the Plegian soldier. To his horror, the group of three that had previously been chatting, seemed to notice the commotion and were heading in to join the battle as well. Tillin prayed that this man was some kind of super soldier that could take them all down, before turning his attention to his wound. The gash was bleeding quite profusely, staining his fingers that had been covering it with blood. The boy let out a sigh and closed his eyes, focusing his thoughts into his staff. The orb atop the wooden rod glowed faintly for a few moments, and when Tillin opened his eyes, the gash on his arm had sealed itself. Though clerics were weak at fighting, he was grateful that they could heal themselves. A dull pain remained, but it was far better than it had been moments ago. He turned his attention back to the battle that was about to take place.


"I can heal you if you can fight them! If not, just say so and we can run for it!" he exclaimed, taking a step backwards. He hoped the man knew that the cleric wouldn't be engaging in the fight. It would be one versus four--not great odds for the average person.
 
Imrae surveyed the battlefield over on top of Precious looking out to where she was needed and to bring intelligents to Chrome about how everyone was fairing. The surveying wasn't exactly simple, the plagians were beginning to get both crossbow and bow wielding soldiers to the roofs to stop her. The arrows posed a problem but Precious was as quick as she was tough gluiding through the air effortlessly to avoid them barely needing instruction from Imrae. Precious even brought soldiers within range of Imrae axe, allowing Imrae to take them down with a swing. Precious was well trained and the two of them were together for years making for a strong bond allowing them to synergise well in battle, With only the slightest movement of the one the other knew what to do.


The bond was valuable even beyond the battlefield, Imrae had given up alot with her defection to the Shepherds and despite it welcome among her new brothers and sisters in arms was lukewarm at best. She didnt blame them, her own manner with them didn't help either, trust was difficult to build and would be worried about them if they accepted her readily. Because of this having Precious companionship kept her going.
 
Aeon was surprised to see the Cleric run back from the crowd and immediately behind him. He was rather flustered, and had a large gash on his arm. He spoke fast, asking for his name but then immediately saying it was more important to focus on the fight at hand, to which Aeon nodded in agreement. He began reaching into a satchel by his hip to the hand the Cleric a Vulnerary, but he had already healed himself, standing back as the four soldiers approached. "Don't worry, I know what I'm doing. Looks to be three Soldiers and a Barbarian. I'm going to draw the three Soldiers in; they have the most reach, and they'll probably try to use it to get to you. I recommend you stand a little farther back, though."


He pulled his Iron Axe off of his back and held it at his side, the Killing Edge in its sheath on his hip jangling as he did so. The Soldiers were seemingly pissed, and wasted no time trying to box Aeon in, but he knew that if he disrupted their plan then this fight would grow easier. He charged the first Soldier, who, because he was not expecting the resistance, froze up, and was an easy target for Aeon's axe, which fell cleanly into his head. He used his foot to pull his axe out of his head and watched the body fall, turning to the other Soldiers, who were both wide eyed at the sight of their fallen comrade. Aeon could see them visibly shake in their boots, and he gave them a small grin.


"Boo."


The Soldiers both dropped their spears and took off in the other directions, their cries still echoing. The only one left was the Barbarian, and he looked angry. He hefted his Silver Axe upon his shoulder and glared at Aeon.


"Just who the hell is it that thinks they can stand up to the mighty Trogar?"


Aeon rolled his eyes. This must have been the leader of those soldiers, or at least the braver one.


"Alright, I'll indulge you. The name is Aeon. You might know me as the Amethyst Hero."


He put his axe on his back and drew his Killing Edge from his sheath, and the Barbarian was visibly shaken from statement.


"What? Y-Youre the Amethyst Hero?"


Aeon threw his Killing Edge above Trogar and jumped up to meet it, grabbing it in midair and bringing it down in one mighty swipe across Trogar's chest, who stood there for a second and then fell on the ground, dead in an instant.


"Yep. Nice to meet you."


He turned back to the Cleric, his Killing Edge by his side.


"So what now, Shepherd?"
 
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Tillin took a few more steps back, heeding the man's warning as the soldier's approached. From the way the warrior had formulated a plan, he guessed that the man was very familiar with the world of combat. The boy was still a bit on edge about trusting this random sellsword, but he had little choice at this point. Tillin's eyes widened as the metal of the man's giant axe reflected the sunlight. He had never seen an axe used in battle before since his peaceful village had simply used them for lumber. Tilling wondered what his strategy would be to fight off all of the soldiers at once. His question was answered seconds after it popped into his mind as the man rushed the enemies, axe in hand. Tillin almost reached out and grabbed the man's armor to try to stop him, thinking that he might be mad for such a ridiculous move. The enemies seemed just as surprised as the boy, completely freezing up in the moment. The cleric tried to avert his eyes as the axe met with one of the soldiers crush, filling the air with a sickening squelch, but it was too late. The smell of blood immediately filled the air and made him feel as if he was going to puke, especially as the sellsword ripped the axe from the man's skull. Tillin had never seen anyone get killed before. Hell, he never even seen a corpse! The whole event left him feeling sick to his stomach, but he did his best to keep himself from retching.


The two other lance soldiers turned tail and made a break for it, leaving their remaining comrade alone. Tillin couldn't blame them as he stared at the corpse on the cobblestone pathway. He questioned why he had come along on this journey at all. Was it worth people dying like this? For a moment, he considered the option of simply resigning to Plegian rule, but shook the thought. If Plegia won, they would surely execute Chrom, and Tillin could not accept that. The boy turned his attention back to the battle at hand as his protector finally introduced himself. Aeon, was it? The amethyst hero? The cleric had never heard of the man, coming from a peaceful town, but he could see the fear in the barbarian's eyes at the mention of the name. Tillin watched, a bit impressed, as Aeon drew out a sword, wielding it as confidently as his axe. This time, the boy managed to avoid seeing the death, though when he opened his eyes, he found the barbarian lying lifeless next to his comrade. He opened his mouth to begin questioning Aeon, but was beat to it.


"So what now, Shepherd?" the man asked, seemingly unfazed by the battle that had just taken place. Tillin ran his hand through his pink hair, considering his options.


"The amethyst hero? I've never heard of anyone named that," he stated, realizing that it might have sounded rude a moment too late. "Er, but that's only because my town hasn't seen much fighting. I'm sure you're very formidable!"


He examined the man for any sign of a group that he might be with, but could find none. Besides, if he was an enemy, he could easily have killed Tillin by now.


"And thank you for saving me. I was just making my way to the middle of town to rendezvous with my allies. I-I'm not sure if you're interested, but I'm sure Prince Chrom would accept you into the Shepherds after hearing that you saved me."


Tillin glanced to the side, a bit annoyed. He wasn't sure that Chrom even knew who he was. When he had joined up with the group, it had been a last minute decision and he had never even gotten a proper introduction. He was probably nothing more than a faceless cleric to the prince. Shaking the thought, he pointed towards the way he had come from.


"We should head back that way! Are you coming?" Tillin asked, as he began walking back the way he came, careful to avoid the bodies on the ground.
 
Out on the blood soaked battle field, many soldiers were being taken down by the seconds, both sides suffering losses. However, a deadly force was slaughtering through a small band of soldiers, just east from the main group. A man screamed as he was cleaved in half, his scream silenced by the deadly silence of a huge steel blade. Holding the blade, Thaddeus yanks his blade out of the corpse, swinging behind him, successfully cutting down another warrior. Thaddeus had a special red gleam in his eyes, his deadly glare being decorated with an angry look on his face, rampaging through the soldiers that stood before him. There was already a ring of corpses around him, blood staining the sharp green grass that surrounds him, his blood soaked blade making the other soldiers start to run away. But it was too late. The Cold Wolf was already in his hunting stage, and he wouldn't let his prey get away. Hepounced on the closest soldier, letting his blade sink through the young mans neck, the soldier dying quickly. The other two soldiers rushed to a fallen Cavaliers horse, hoping to make a getaway. Sady, Thaddeus had other plans for the two. He picks up one of the fallens sword, and with a steady and accurate throw, the blade cuts through the air and into the horses neck, the beautiful beast dying almost instantly. The two soldiers both fell down, quivering as they looked at their hunter.


"Please, please spare us! You've already won! You defeated us all! Don't you Plegians have mercy?!"


The words meant nothing to Thaddeus as he killed the soldiers friend, leaving only him and Thaddeus. Before Thaddeus struck down, however, his deep voice echoed through the field.



"Mercy is only shown for the courageous. Would you have given me mercy if I was at the end of your blade? Besides, you have awoken the Cold Wolf."


And with that, Thaddeus beheaded the man in one quick slice. Thaddeus looked at the main battlefield, and starts to head to the main fight.
 
Chrom:





Chrom was located in a local, family-owned inn located just on the outskirts of Cantor. He was at a table surrounded by the subtle amount of light coming from a slowly burning wax candle. The candle silently dripped as Chrom talked quietly with those at the table with him. He was stood at one end of the table as other Shepherds, some Chrom usually sought advice from, still some more tactical thinks, and others just the most trustworthy stood around the other sides. It was just a fraction of the already small number of people that made up the Shepherds. On the table was a map of the area around Cantor, notes were written in areas and smalls blocks of wood also stood on top of the map, signifying different groups. Chrom kept a hand on the hilt of Falchion as others at the table conversed about there next move. This sword was one of the last Ylissean heirlooms, and is also one of the most important ones. This sword in his possession was the very sword that took down the dark dragon one thousand years ago by the Hero-King. Because of the great power it held, it couldn't be lost to the wrong hands.


Chrom was fairly out of the conversation when a knight adorned in blue armor brought him back in.
"Milord? Are you even listening still? What's your say on our next move? We cannot stay hidden in a stable like this forever. Plegia is sure to find us soon, and we must ready ourselves for this."


Chrom quickly regained focus and turned to the Great Knight. "Well, Imrae is still out gathering intelligence. So it is still difficult to decide since we're still figuring things out." he said plainly. "But do believe it's best we move from our current location here in this inn, before Plegians end up cornering us at all sides."


"I agree, but where-if I may ask-will we go?


((OOC: If anyone has their character already a part of the Shepherds, you can feel free to put them at the table with Chrom, if you'd like))





Mo:


Mo sat at a separate table apart from the Chrom and his "inner circle" talking about strategies and planning. Mo always found it weird that Chrom needed a bunch of people to help him think about stuff to do. Why couldn't he just make up his mind and tell everyone what to do by himself. That's why he's the leader! She sat on a stool padded with hey and and had her head down on a rickety wood table in front of her. She was trying to nap. Though she could've just napped in a bed upstairs, she found the beds extreme uncomfortable. Resting on wood is no different from those beds.. she thought to herself.


As her eyes began to close and she started to drift off into sleep. She caught one of the weirdest feeling in her nose. She tried to scratch it away, but the sensation just kept building up. She quickly sat up, rubbing her face even more until her face scrunched up and she let out a huge sneeze. The blast of the sneeze set her entire body flying backwards, and there was even a little spark of fire that came out. The force had pushed her out of her chair and she fell onto the floor with a loud thud.
 
"Join the Shepherds!? Hot diggity damn! Count me in! I've been searching forever for a way to get Plegia out of Ylisse. Now's my chance!"


Aeon ran after the guy with pink hair, his sword still in his hand. Once he was caught, up, he turned to talk to him.


"Don't worry about not knowing me. It's really only a name known to most Plegians, if you know what I mean. I'm Aeon, by the way. You?"


He offered his free hand as he walked, but he knew it would be a little difficult to shake considering it was his shield arm.
 
Minato looked around at the nearby trade center on the outskirts of town, delivery bag in hand. He had done his task, now was the time to collect the reward. It was not that hard for him to do it, just getting there was hard. So many people were in his way. He looked at his hands, and brushed the smudge off his hand. The mission was particularly interesting this time. Killing a small group of bandits, and bringing evidence... He hoped he go the right evidince.
 
News spread through their small encampment quickly; and Jalil was assigned to Camilla, it seemed. Not wanting to waste any time, he stood from where he was seated, where he was previously polishing his silver and golden jewelry, and set off to gather his weapons. He glanced down at the worn Flux tome he'd attached to his side, dangling from his belt and ready to be used in any given emergency. The poor thing appeared as though it could break at any moment, worn from use as it was. He'd only gotten it as an introduction to dark magic, but it simply would not do anymore.


Especially since, from what he's heard, the enemies that had caused such a panic amongst the Plegians (enough to call for reinforcements) were Chrom and his loyal Shepherds, a group he'd never once encountered in person before. The battle was going to be an interesting one, as he was certain the Shepherds will be able to provide quite a challenge compared to the small, weak Ylissean armies he'd been assigned to fight prior to this day.


He untied the thick rope attaching the tome to his belt and turned the book over in his hands, examining it for a moment. It had certainly seen better days. It felt greasy against his fingertips and the frayed pages had yellowed with abuse. He tossed the book aside and plucked a golden book with a telltale lightning strike symbol on the front from a stack of magical books eagerly waiting to be used in battle. He chose a Nosferatu tome as well, and left the encampment, ready to make his way to town.


Jalil's chest heaved as he inhaled the fresh, salty air of the outskirts of Cantor. In the distance, he could already hear the clangor of steel upon steel, neighs of horses, and screams of agony in one terrible cacophony.


He walked until he could find one of the reinforcements that would be joining him soon, but stopped for a moment to eye the battle taking place from a distance. He could see that there were a lot more people than he expected, at first he'd assumed it was only the Shepherds taking over the town, but he could see plenty of people that were wearing simple farmer's garments instead of armor, using their fists and legs as their defense instead of brandishing weapons, determined to fight. He guessed they were native Ylisseans who were living in this town, and a part of the minority group that still hoped Chrom would take back the throne and come to power once again. And now that the Shepherds were trying to take back a small piece of their territory, they're ready and eager to jump to their defense.


Sneering, Jalil thought their determination was remarkable, really, but also quite sad. Not that Jalil felt sorrow for them, but they really only served as a distraction to the Plegian army until the real Shepherds arrived and came out from their shadows. This is why their group was needed, so Chrom could be specifically hunted down and killed. He finally approached the town and stood in the shadows, waiting for someone he recognized to come by.
 
Aro rested his hands on the table, standing up and turning toward the man questioning Chrom. The young man was a tactician, and he was going to do all he could to prove himself a worthy addition to the Shepherds. "If you don't mind me interrupting, I suggest we keep an even head about this. If we were to bring the enemy toward the port to fight, we run the risk of encountering warships. If we do the bulk of the fighting in the town, it is likely that innocent citizens would get caught up in the crossfire. So instead...we need to make some noise. Chrom, it puts you at risk, but if they knew you were there, and you took the main forces to the outer edge of town, they would likely follow."


He adjusted his Plegian robe, his eyes filled with determination. "There are a few of us, like myself, who would easily blend in here. Why not leave us behind to follow, so when the enemy troops follow you out, we can flank them. That way you're moving a smaller number and will be underestimated. After all, it's not like they have any clue how many shephards you would bring with you to any given settlement, especially one in Plegia."


Though he had only been an official part of the group for a few months now, he knew that Chrom was the sort of man to take each plan into consideration. The idea put the majority of the risk on the blue haired man's shoulders, something Aro wasn't necessarily comfortable with, but he had a feeling Chrom would rather put himself at risk, then put countless innocents in the line of danger.


He eased up the tension beneath his fingertips, lifting his spellbook once more and pulling it toward his chest protectively. The idea of wandering along was a frightening one. But Aro was smart, and he was dressed the part. It wasn't uncommon to see someone from a different town wandering about, and seeing the familiar colors did wonders for a person's comfort levels. The fact that he was slight in stature would certainly not hurt his chances of flanking the ranks without being noticed either.


@Kwillz
 
Chrom turned to see the young tactician on the other end of the table stand up. His eyes were determined and the look on his face was. The tactician, Aro, suggested to move to the ports in order to keep townspeople out of the crossfire of the inevitable battle that was to be held. Everything seemed silent for a moment after the robed-tactician had finished suggesting his plan. Chrom stayed quiet, staring at the map on the table him before given Aro a nod and a smile.


"Well, doesn't really seem like a risk to me." He said calmly. The tall knight once again turned to Chrom. "But Milord, you are the one they are searching for; Think of your kingdom. If you are captured then you will surely..." he began. "Peace, Frederick. I am thinking of Ylisse. What good is a ruler and his nation if there are no people to serve, govern, and protect? Even if it's to protect one person in that town, I am willing to take any risk." The knight let out a sigh and a curt nod of his head, as if he had given up trying to reason with Chrom. That was one thing about Chrom- if he were to settle on one thing then he it would take a thousand tries to even try to change his mind.


"So, Aro," Chrom turned to the brown-haired tactician,"do you have any idea on who could go with you in your group? Go ahead and choose whomever you seem fit. I trust you." He smiled. Chrom was glad to have a strategical mind on his side. He felt grateful for the others who gave him advice but Chrom was always fascinated with the things Aro came up with. He was certainly a natural when it came to tactics.
 
Tillin was happy to hear the excitement in the man's voice. The Shepherds were always looking for new recruits as they often saw their numbers drop after battle, due both to death and desertion, or at least that's what he had heard. Aeon offered a hand to him as he introduced himself and the cleric (OOC: OMG, males can't be clerics, OOPS. Refer to him as a priest from now on! x_x) realized that he had yet to give his savior any information about himself. He navigated his arm awkwardly around the man's shield until he could grab his hand, then shook it firmly.


"Aeon? Got it! Sorry I forgot to introduce myself earlier! I'm Tillin. I just joined the Shepherds myself! I'll help Prince Chrom in any way that I can!" he exclaimed eagerly, finally releasing the man's hand. He reached up to his own chest and clasped the Shepherd pin that had given him away earlier. Undoing it, he handed it to Aeon with a smile.


"I don't think the Shepherds will know that you're one of us without this, so I want you to have it! At least until we get you officially introduced to the group."


Glancing around, he wondered where the group was exactly. Had he misheard the plan? He had followed a few of his friends into the city, but he had yet to see any of the main force or the prince anywhere. In fact, the more he looked at the scene around him, the more he realized that the people fighting the Plegian soldiers were simple militia men, not Shepherds. The town was getting slaughtered from the inside! Where were Chrom and the others? Tillin had half a mind to shout for the militiamen to stop battling, but he knew they wouldn't listen, their loyalty to Ylisse too strong. As he rounded a corner with Aeon, he let out a loud gasp, stumbling backwards and doing all he could to keep from throwing up. A pile of bodies sat mutilated in the middle of the street, many missing limbs or heads. An innocent militiaman was begging for his life and as Tillin looked up, he saw the assailant who had caused the carnage. The man was horrifying, a pure look of rage and lust for battle gracing his face. It almost seemed as if he was enjoying the whole event. With unflinching cruelty, he hacked the head off of the soldier, which proceeded to roll to Tillin's feet. The priest backed away with such fear, one would have guessed he had been stuck with a lance again. He had half a mind to simply turn tail and run, but he was a Shepherd now and he knew his duty was to guard the townspeople. He glanced at Aeon for a moment, apologizing in advance, before turning back to the savage man.


"You there!" he exclaimed, pointing at the warrior with his free hand. "You dare defile these grounds with senseless bloodshed? That man was begging for his life! As a Shepherd, I--" He glanced at Aeon, remembering the man was now a Shepherd as well. "We cannot allow that. Leave now and we'll allow you to go free. Otherwise, face the consequences!"


He turned to Aeon, knowing full well that he had just put the man in a very dangerous situation. "Just try to hold him off until the others arrive or he'll kill more innocents! I'll heal you and we can run for it if anything goes wrong!" he whispered to the sellsword. With that, Tillin took a few more steps backwards, feeling a bit guilty for forcing Aeon into this situation. Still, this would give the man a chance to prove his loyalty to the Shepherds.


@Knight Nate @National
 
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At the words 'I trust you' Aro felt his chest swell up with pride. It was always reassuring when his plans were well received. With a nod, he looked around the group. "Right. Tillin is too flashy to be left to his own devices, plus as a priest, it would probably be good for him to be at the main group's side irregardless. Frederick's face is just as easy to recognize as yours, so he should also stay by your side." He tapped his cheek, puffing it up in thought before visibly getting an idea. "I would suggest allowing Mo to be one of the flanking party, as she is bubbly and unassuming. Myself of course, since I could blend in... and Imrae because she knows how to handle herself discretely. Depending on the size you wish to march with, perhaps sending a few foot soldiers in a second small group might be a good plan as well. If you allow us to split off in such a way it would create two groups which were small enough that we wouldn't rouse suspicion, while still having the majority of your forces defending you, giving the appearance that the it is your full accompanying force."


Looking around the table, he blinked, not seeing the head of pink hair that was rarely seen very far from Chrom. "I don't mean to alarm you but...where is Tillin anyway?" It wasn't like him to be away from the group, though he likely just got lost. Aro put his spell book inside his robes, keeping it tucked away for safe keeping.


@Kwillz
 
Aeon smiled as he walked with the Priest, who had handed him his Shepherds badge. He had introduced himself as Tillin, a priest, who had just recently joined the Shepherds. As he looked for a way to pin it to his armor somehow, he told about how he would do anything for Chrom, and that made Aeon's grin grow wider.


"You're pretty dedicated to this guy. It's a wonder you've pried yourself from his side to get out here, heheh!"


He eventually found a way to stick it onto the chest of his armor, and he had to admit, he rather liked the way it looked! It gave off an even more intimidating edge than he usually had.


As they continued walking, they came upon what appeared to be a massacre of body parts, blood, and other entrails littering the ground near a man who had just executed a man on his knees, begging for mercy, and his head rolled to Tillin's feet. Aeon looked up to Tillin and saw that he was shaking; must be the first time he's seen gore like this. But then he did something he didn't expect; he shouted at the man. And when he turned around, Aeon got a good look at the man, and his cheerful expression turned into one of complete seriousness.



"Tillin, I don't think you realize who you just shouted at. That's the Cold Wolf. Supposed killing machine. I'm not a hundred percent sure I can win this, but....hell, if this helps free Ylisse, then screw it!"


He drew his Killing Edge again and let it hang by his side and put his shield arm up, waiting for the Wolf to make a move. He knew he was going to have to react quickly if he wanted to get by the Wolf's speed. He turned his head back to Tillin for a second.


"If I die here and you make it out.....do me a favor and say hi to the others for me, yeah?"


He then turned back to the Wolf, waiting for a move to be made.
 
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Thaddeus lifted the sole of his shoe up, and wiped off the blood of the beheaded body, his sword gleaming with the blood now off it's steel blade. His blood lust seemed to calm down, but only for a second.


Suddenly, he heard a young mans voice from behind. He turns around, and sees what seemed to be a priest, and a swordsman. Thaddeus could already tell who the sellsword was. The Amethyst Hero, definitely a formidable for. And with a priest on his side, this would seem definitely difficult. However, the Cold Wolf had pride in his deadly speed and strength. He swings his sword around, the hilt twrilung through his fingers as he brings the sword to his side, his deadly glare settling onto the two. The priest was a bit new to this battling thing, he could tell.


"Seems as you know who I am. Yes, you are definitely correct. I am the Cold Wolf, and you have just stumbled onto your deaths."


Quickly, Thaddeus charges straight towards the priest. Attacking the Amethyst Hero would be the normal mood, but it would be better to take out the healer. He raises his sword, and attempts a swing at the young boy.


@Knight Nate
 
Aeon, half expecting this, leaped in front of Tillin with his left arm outstretched. As the Wolf's blade swung down, it landed on Aeon's shield arm. He then gave it a burst of strength and pushed the Wolf off of him and resumed a defensive stance, his Killing Edge in a ready position by his side.


"Of course he tries for the Priest first. Tillin, I know this is a lot to ask, but...you gotta go. I can't fight this guy and keep you safe at the same time. Get back to Chrom, and I'll see what I can do about the Wolf."


He then raised his Killing Edge in the air, and it began to shine a bright yellow. With Sol activated, he sent three quick strikes at the Wolf to create some distance.





@National @torchik37
 
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The feelings of guilt increased to incredible levels as Aeon told him exactly who their opponent was. If Tillin had known that this man had a reputation for his brutal combat, he never would have confronted him and put his new friend in such danger. Still, as he watched the hero draw his killing edge, he thought that there might be a slight chance of victory. He had never seen this wolf man fight, but Aeon was fast with a sword, and skilled as well. Perhaps he would be able to use that to gain an advantage over the other man. The Cold Wolf's voice alone sent shivers down the boy's spine and he could feel the man's thirst for combat. Tillin opened his mouth to refute Aeon's statement about dying, but the Wolf made a move at the same time. The priest was completely caught off guard by the man's incredible speed as he leapt forward swiftly. Worse, the man didn't seem to be aiming for Aeon as he would have expected, he was coming directly for the healer. Tillin moved back instinctively, but it could hardly be considered a dodge of any sort.


At the last moment, Aeon stuck his arm out, deflecting the blow and shielding the boy. Tilling clenched his jaw to keep himself from shaking, collected himself, then let out a sigh of relief. However, the hero's next words put him back on edge. Leave him? There was no way he could do that! What if the man got injured and needed to be healed? Still, he did seem like more of a handicap than an asset right now, completely defenseless as the Wolf aimed for him. Tillin put his hand into his robe and made sure his two other staves were still there. Though he was new to combat, he had done quite a bit of healing in his hometown, tending to those who were sick or injured. This had left him quite well equipped when he had joined up with the Shepherds. He quickly placed his healing rod back into it's holder on his waste and pulled out a staff with what looked like wings on top of it. As his ally moved in for attack using Sol, the priest closed his eyes and focused once more, before lifting the staff into the air. The rod glowed a warm blue for a moment, then transferred this glow to Aeon.


"I gave you a barrier, although I'm not sure how much that will help,"
Tillin stated, watching the fight. Aeon was right that he would be of more use finding aid, rather than just standing here and watching. "I'm going to find someone to help us! Don't overexert yourself! If you die here, you'll never get to meet the other Shepherds!"


In truth, Tillin had another plan, grasping the Rescue staff within his robe. He would make it back to the others and then use the item to pull Aeon to him. Hopefully the hero would be able to hold out until then. The priest connected eyes with the Wolf one last time before turning and running for the city's edge. He had yet to see any of his allies in the town, which must mean that they hadn't entered yet. As he moved towards his destination, he was far more careful than he had been before, quite aware that there would be no Aeon to save him if he met with trouble this time. He raised the hood of his white robe, covering his pink hair, and moved stealthily, mimicking the rogues that he had seen in the Shepherds. With his hood up and his Shepherd pin gone, no one was inclined to question a random priest, and he made it to the edge of town undisturbed. Even now, though, he saw no signs of his allies. For a moment, he considered using his Rescue staff to summon Chrom, but quickly decided against it. The prince was probably doing something important, and pulling him away from it could be a bad move. With a resigned sigh, he pulled his hood down and began to wander around, hoping that someone would be able to see his noticeable pink hair. His thoughts shifted to Aeon as he wondered how the man was fairing in his battle.
 
As the blade was whistling through the air, prepared to take the young mans life in a single swing, his blade was suddenly deflected by the Amethyst Hero, his armored arm shielding the young cleric from the cold steel. Thaddeus predicted that his attack would be deflected, the Amethyst Hero not being new at battle at all. He probably knew off the bat Thaddeus was going to try to take out the priest first. Thaddeus sees, out if the cornwr of his cold blue eyes, that the priest succesfully got away from his grasp. However, his plan worked out, and now it was only the sellsword, and the Cold Wolf. The sellsword did have a barrier, but it didn't look at all powerful.The Plegian grinds his teeth as the young man uses his marvelous sword, his killing edge, with Sol, firing out three attacks. They did their job at keeping Thaddeus at bay, but Thaddeus was always unpredictable, which is what what made him have such a high reputation in the Plegian army. He blocked the first attack, his sword meeting with the sellswords, before doing the second blow, but the third blow, Thaddeus has a plan. As the blade comes down again for Thaddeus, he lunges in, and the blade cuts into his shoulder, cutting into his skin, and into a good two inches of flesh. Before it could cut down any further, he grabs the sword with his bare hand, his hand bleeding as he throws the blade up with a fearsome amount of strength, hopefully throwing off the Amethyst Heroes balance. He quickly takes a step to close the gap between the two, before slashing at the boys stomach.
 
Aeon, not expecting for the Wolf to grab his blade and injure himself in the process, was thrown off with a large amount of force. Had Aeon not trained tirelessly on being able to recover from these sorts of things, this battle would have over much sooner than he anticipated. As he was thrown backward, he used his momentum to fall backward, then seemingly went for a roll, but used his free hand to springboard himself backward. He landed safely on his feet and managed to bring his shield arm back down to stop the blow again. He kicked the Wolf away and raised his Killing Edge in the air again, this time glowing green.


'I gotta be able to match his speed, or else it's just me waiting for him to make a mistake.'


With the power of Astra now summoned, he rushed forward to the Wolf, slashing upward, to the side, downward, back to the side again, and then slashing diagonally at a surprising speed.
 
Thaddeus was impressed that he was able to get away from his slash. He had a good amount of flexibility, there was no doubt about that. However, this wasn't a real problem for Thaddeus. The blasted shield arm again bounces his blade away from him. This time, Thaddeus knew that this young man is a good swordsman, and he was also able to use Sol. However, Thaddeus is an experienced swordsman, and he wasn't easy for Astra. Using his blade, he deflects the first two strikes, stepping in at each strike to close in the gap. In the third and fourth strike, Thaddeus dodges the two strikes, twirling around the blade as it went to cut him down. At the final strike, Thaddeus sends his own powerful slash straight at the boy, the overpowering slash of his blade deflecting the boys last attack, his blade going straight for his chest.
 
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Aeon, still a little drained from the use of Astra, didn't count on the Wolf just pushing through his last attack. His blade cut through the plating on his armor and into flesh, the wound already bleeding a fair amount.


(27 Damage!)


Aeon stepped back and put a hand on his chest, then looked back to the Wolf with a new found determination. He raised his blade in the air once more, and it this time glowed a pale blue. He grinned as he stared at the Wolf, then shouted at him.


"It's been lovely."


He then spun his blade around in a reverse grip, crouched forward, and with speed that made it seem like he glided on the ground, flew forward to the Wolf, giving his body a massive slash as he zipped past him, yellow sparks erupting from where he struck.


(Critical Luna! 49 Damage!)



He then stopped around ten feet away from the Wolf and turned back around to face him, visibly drained from the attack, as he breathed heavily, his shield arm still up, but his sword arm laying tired by his side.
 

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