Fantasy Four Suits: Of Gods & Devils - IC Thread (Vol. 4)

[Remembrance]

Art de Glace and Caroline EarnestArt gazed at the stars, he felt a connection with them, a connection he didn't appreciate. The phrase the most beautiful flower is always plucked was brought to mind. He's always seen that phrase in a negative light; ever since he's learned it. This connection he had with the stars, he felt that if he threw himself out there and open to all, he'd be plucked. This fear of the guild. The fear of being found out. It was frightening. He didn't deny the thrill of disobedience was intoxicating but dying is an experience he has yet to accept. Art looked down at the woman sitting peacefully in the wheelchair beside him. He knew if he was to be caught, this beauty would be plucked with him, or at least, her life wouldn't be safe anymore. None of the men in this expedition would be safe.

Past the field, Art turned to hear and see a commotion in the distance. Not a commotion worthy being worried of but when the elderly man asked for Art, he couldn't help but oblige. Viewing upon his appearance, he was more akin to a troubled vagrant on the streets than one who would benefit speaking to a current assassin and current founder of an organization. Art spoke the words a man surrounded by soldiers would adore to hear; "Stand down." The guardsmen sheathed anything they had out but stood with an imposing stance.

He speaks for the dirt, huh? Art grinned at the idea that this man spoke for all things nature. It was blasphemous and ridiculous. Art kept composure and ran scenarios through his head. He could:
A. Decapitate the elder for trespassing on a camp.
B. Tell the elder to leave.
C: Crucify him alive.
D: Handle the matter with diplomacy.

Should Art pick A or C, it is possible the men that follow him would lose faith in him. Not only that but it would be a rather horrid sight. B seemed reasonable and should he act in defiance; having soldiers kill is better than having a leader do so. However, D felt more beneficial. Art had education in law, this didn't make him any better than any prosperous kid with a noble family. It did let him effectively choose decisions that socially impact his life. The last option was favorable also because it would raise the respect the men who obey Art to perhaps obey him without question. A thought that Art reveled in.

Clearing his throat, Art spoke with a balmy tone and peaceful demeanor, "My name is Elias Hildryn. I'm the leader of this retinue and camp. What may be the issue this night?"
Coyote Hart ​

 

[Coyote Hart]

Amycus's CS can be found here. The drunkard Druid's stats are thus: 300/100. Remembrance

"Issue? Issue?" the druid asked, "What an awfully dull thing to say Elliott. Do today's young'uns not have *hic* eyes?"

The old man swayed unsteadily and tilted towards one of the men stationed at the end of the camp. Rather than help the old man, the guard simply stepped out of the way to allow the old man to suffer in whatever fate his drunk ass was getting. Miraculously though, the old man was able to regain his balance and stand upright. He raised his hand and tipped a wooden bottle down his mouth, where a dark fluid-- likely something alcoholic flowed.

"Problem *hic* here iz dah' chu're..." the old man seemed to forget his words as he mimed tossing a salad, "... all over mother nature! Duh grass doesn't approve of it! this place looks like some god came here and shat on everything."

The old man swayed back and forth unsteadily, and this time, he stumbled and fell to the ground. He tried to get up, but his drunkedness prevented him from doing more than attempt it. By the third time of failing to stand up, the old man just sat on the ground to talk to Art-- also known as Elias, which the old man, in his old age and bad hearing, heard Elliott.

"What iz it chu all are trying to find?" the old man asked, "Treasure? I know duh best place to find treasure if dah's what chu want."

 

[Remembrance]

Art de GlaceArt was offended to not only hear his alias misheard and spoken incorrectly but to hear what Art considered insults directed towards his manner of speaking. Swallowing his tongue, Art listened to the drunken rambles of a vagrant. The man stumbling about and eventually ending on the ground was evident to his not quite there mind and thinking. Art took offense to a lot of what the drunken vagrant was saying, not only that but the few sundowners he swallowed down at an inappropriate time.

He almost laughed at the times he would trip. In Art's head, he fantasized kicking the skull in of the drunk for taking up his time. However, violence was not an act he was willing to commit this fine night, especially not in front of the men who respect. When the drunk asked for what they were looking for, Art opened his mouth to say with a bellow of arrogance that it was none of his business but he was cut short when the vagrant pondered out loud whether they were looking for treasure and that he knew where to find some.

Art clicked his tongue and thought for a moment before responding rather calmly. "Now... Where would you find this treasure?"

Asking a question like this could skip a large part of searching for the lair, perhaps this drunk knew where it was. That sort of thinking was dangerous though. Why trust a drunk? Why would a man of nature lead the people defiling it to riches? What if it was a trap and bandits or some dangerous vagabonds paid him to lead Art and his men to an ambush? Art looked over the man, no pockets looked full and no bags hung from his belt. Perhaps he was paid in a beverage, an easy and cheap way to get a drunk to do work.

"Perhaps you can lead us to this treasure?" Art requested before turning to his guards and requesting them to wake a handful of soldiers to accompany him. This drunk could be of some use if this treasure isn't an ambush in wait.
Coyote Hart ​

 

[Coyote Hart]

Amycus's CS can be found here. I forgot to say in my last post that Spider Breath has been updated, a description of Spider Breath can be found in the Other Lore Bullshit document. The drunkard Druid's stats are thus: 300/75. Remembrance

"Nuh uh uh," the old man wagged his finger at Art, "What do chu do when chu want something? And it isn't say 'please and thank chu.'"

The old man struggled to his feet, then immediately fell over again to return sitting on the ground. He hiccupped, and mana flowed into the ground. Strong vines reached out from the dirt and elevated the old man on a chair, which quickly became a throne, which then quickly grew taller until the old man was almost at Art's eye-level.

"Information iz a good, and what goods are exchanged foh iz..." the old man rubbed his fingers together, "... so pay op."

 

[Remembrance]

Art de GlaceShort of blowing up at the drunk, Art balled his fist at the idea of being submissive with a poor and weak vagrant who dare even talk to him. To act below this man in dialogue would be insulting and whether or not this treasure was an ambush was dismissed as this man was asking for pleasantries. Would a lure be so insulting?

Art unballed his fast and placed his hand over his book as he saw vines rising from the ground. His cautiousness wasn't freed when he saw the vines form the drunk man a throne. Art swallowed his tongue yet again, reminding himself that this could be a better lead than whoever led them to this part of the region and that killing this drunk would bring about a bad reputation. A drunk vagrant king sat on a throne of materials not his to own. This could be seen as poetic in some circles. Art considered killing the throned drunkard once again, it'd be theatrical and jester-like if he did as such.

Tapping his book, he opened it up and pulled a pouch from it. Holstering the book, he pulled some coins and laid them in his hand; returning the pouch to the book. I shouldn't even be paying him. His life and being still present should be payment enough. Art inhaled loudly and groaned an exhale. He showed an open palm to the drunk; in it was 10 silver. He held it close to the man before pulling it back and clasping it; the clack of coins serving as his own lure. "You'll get your payment after this information has been verified." Art cracked a grin, one of arrogance, and an absolute pleasure to have this man be inconvenienced even slightly.
Coyote Hart​

 

[Coyote Hart]

Amycus's CS can be found here. The drunkard Druid's stats are thus: 300/75. Remembrance

The old man squinted at the ten silver pieces and then exploded into a ruckus of laughter. He spilled the contents of his wooden bottle onto his clothes in his laughter-- it turned out the liquid was rum-- although he didn't seem to care. He propped his arm up on the armrest, then used that arm to hold his head up as he continued to chuckle for a good few minutes.

"I may bay no Jack, but I can see a scam when I see one," the old man said once he recovered from his laughing fit, "This iz duh thief's lair imma talking about! I've heard there's piles of palladium in there, an entire armory *hic* of weapons, and enough artefacts to start op an artefact shop! tan *hic* measly little silvers aren't going to give chu duh goodies! I need enough to buy myself a home, somewhere where muh family will bay protected, even if muh son iz a *hic* disappointment. And I need to get myself a good quality winter coat, probably something like cashmere, like them royals have! and boy, would I love a nice down pillow. And maybe a village. Chief Raz has a good ring to it. Al name it Razzington."

The old man continued to ramble on and roll ideas off of his tongue. Absurd ideas like a dodo dinner or raise a bunch of sheep to make his own cashmere industry or buy a magical stick that could make plants thrive. Based on the dazed look in his eyes, it didn't seem like he was intentionally trying to get Art angry, rather he was so thoroughly inebriated that he couldn't even Art's near anger state. Suddenly, he stopped and looked Art right in the eyes.

"75 gold," the old man said, raising four fingers, "Take it or leave it. And upfront payments only."

 

[Remembrance]

Art de GlaceListening to the rambles of a drunk was getting tiring. Hearing a lowlife ask for more was unexpected, he was gonna paid more than he was really worth when it comes down to it. A bellowed laughter coming from the man was an insult to Art, especially since the drunk was covered in his own intoxications. Another poetic sight I suppose. Art opened his book as the man rambled on, returning the coins into it. He kept a calm composure, he felt it necessary to hold back his own laughter and rambles.

Necessary it was until the drunkard asked for an unbelievable amount of coin. Holstering his book, Art entered a burst of crazed laughter, holding his stomach as everything that accumulated to this moment escaped from his mouth. It felt freeing to laugh with such vigor, very much since he's held in so much. Clearing his throat, he returned to a normal state. Art clicked his tongue and groaned, "You're asking for more than a year's worth of royal pay." Art chuckled one last bit before approaching the vagrant who dared insult Art with this request.

Art leaned in and spoke softly, "You misunderstand me." His voice grew considerably deeper. "The ten silver wasn't payment. It was a courtesy. I was willing to grant you possibly more money than you've ever had in your pitiful life but I suppose that accord is no longer withstanding."

Stepping away, Art wanted the man to consider his actions and wanting to covet more than he was offered. And seeing the drunkard's eyes widen as Art struck the side of his neck with great force was more arousing than anything he's ever experienced in a while; this act rendered him unconscious. Art looked around him, the guardsmen appeared shocked though their surprise faded as Art assumed they realized that this was a necessary action lest they pay a fee larger than any of their salaries.

Art pulled the body from the throne and onto the dirt next to it. Art assumed his position onto the throne and placed a foot onto the unconscious drunk's body. Taking a deep breath, Art linked with the man and entered his own unconscious state.

He appeared in a dark place. Art always cherished these experiences; being in another man's mind. Though he didn't quite want to cherish whatever this man had in his. Time for my own digging.
Coyote Hart ​

 

[Coyote Hart]

Raz's stats are as such in his memories: 300/150. Hephaestus's stats are as such in Raz's memories: 250/250. Please note that Art will know every one of Raz's inner thoughts as provided by the flashback. Remembrance

In that darkness, images began to form around Art, most of them intangible and impossible to decipher, until one scene finally took form. Raz, the old man, and his son, Hephaestus, were in a rickety cottage. The rain beat down around them.

Although there was nothing to indicate it, Art knew that this was Cliffwood, the treehouse city. The scene also took place a few years ago, as evidenced by Raz's darker beard and hair. There was a tenseness in the air; Raz had Stormy Klouds of anger in his eyes, and Hephaestus's gangly figure was rigid with tension.

"Say what you just said one more time?" Raz dared Hephaestus.

"I said," Hephaestus said, "I don't want to grow up to be a druid."

Raz's nostrils flared with anger as he did his best to keep himself under control. This was an unprecedented situation. All people in Raz's bloodline had been druids. They weren't particularly good druids, but it was tradition. Raz's parents were both druids. His grandparents were druids. The parents of his grandparents were druids before they kicked the bucket. For his son Hephaestus to decide not to be a druid... it was disgraceful.

"No, I refuse to accept that," Raz declared, "You will become a druid. It's in your blood."

"Father, I won't continue to be controlled by you," Hephaestus countered, "Tradition can go suck my ass."

"Watch your language boy!" Raz reprimanded, "What do you even think is more worthy of your life than keeping to tradition?"

"I want to be a cobbler," Hephaestus looked towards the bookshelf on the wall. On it were several prototypes of the shoes he wanted to make, "I want to make sure that the people of the village are able to have the shoes they need."

"Fuck shoes!" Raz Stormed. In a fit of rage, he swept all of the shoes from the bookshelf onto the ground, where he grounded his heels into each of them. Hephaestus had a glassy look in his eyes as if Raz had just shot his pet dog. Suddenly, he grabbed a bag from the wooden bed next to him. It was stuffed to the brim, of which Raz had no idea. Raz looked up at Hephaestus as he began to move towards the door, "Where you do you think you're going, young man?"

"Somewhere other than here," Hephaestus said. He slipped on a pair of shoes, the heel of which had manastones embedded into it. Then he grabbed his set of hunting knives off of the wall and opened the door. Outside, the rain poured down like a monsoon, and the roaring sound of the rain falling was only amplified when Hephaestus opened the door.

"No, get back here!" Raz said as he tried to pull Hephaestus back, "The rain will drench you!"

Hephaestus didn't answer. Instead, he proceeded right into the rain. Raz couldn't go after him, as he knew that his son would be able to easily outrun him. So instead, he went as far as the doorway, and watched his son dissappear into the mist of rain. With one final attempt, he shouted into the rain:

"GET BACK HERE!!"

Exhausted, Raz fell to the floor. This was the worst betrayal ever. He had taught Hephaestus everything-- How to survive against the treacherous dangers of Noah's Ark, the location of the treasure lair in the cliffside five kilometers south of where Art was, and the deepest secrets of druidcraft passed discreetly down from generation to generation. All of it was for nothing, now his son was going to go waste his life making shoes.

Raz looked up to the Klouds and hoped that the gods wouldn't let his son's betrayal go unpunished. But there wasn't really anything he could do. The "godly connections" he had were mostly quackery after all. Raz closed the door and flopped down on his son's former bed and grabbed the bottle of rum on the table. He took a deep swig.

And at that moment, the scene ended, ejecting Art out of the mindscape. He would find himself on the ground, as the vine throne had fallen apart under Art's weight. The stars shined down on Art, even the dirty ones that had escaped their fates.

 

[The Prophet]

𝕾𝖎𝖊𝖌𝖋𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖉 𝕸𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖆 𝕽𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖘𝖈𝖍𝖎𝖑𝖉​

Siegfried remained silent up until X leaned over and whispered some…. Unorthodox strategy that his king personally used to stay entertained. Perhaps it was different for Kings, but Siegfried was under the impression that imagining this room of the land's most powerful people In a state of undress would be most unprofessional. "What an interesting idea, King Valentine." He said flatly, before going back to sitting proper and upright. Despite his fairly recent employment, Siegfried had already figured out a few things about his king; most prominent being that he always said and did whatever he wanted regardless of how stupid it may be. But at least it was manageable, unlike-

As if on cue, Club's very own Queen busted open the doors and opened in profanity. If there was an example for the word boisterous, it was that woman. She simply didn't care for her position,and made no sort of effort in any regard. At least it was easy to clean up after her despite how much of a wrecking ball she was in the moment. He offered a silent greeting as her feet landed on the table then stopped to regard the odd ace and his wife. Why was an ace here, with his wife? And why was she looking at the table with such clear disdain? it seemed very unprofessional for someone with no political power to look upon the nation's rulers like so. Then again, Siegfried's king and queen are the epitome of unprofessional if the chocolate and pocket donuts were any indication. It seemed that the Heart Queen was irked by the general lack of etiquette as well, as after receiving the letter his Jack delivered she erupted in an effort to set everyone straight.

He watched her actions and their effect closely, committing his observations to writing as he quietly pulled out his book and flipped to a fresh page, twirling his ornate pen whenever his hand stopped gliding along the page. When he got what he wanted he put it away, returning to the patient game of waiting for the rest of the tardy royals. It made you wonder how one could have the gall to make a room full of royals wait, even if you were a royal yourself. If both King Valentine and Queen Insignia made it to a meeting before you, it was his opinion that they were tremendously late.

Pausing when X very nearly declared war and Iris regained control of the situation, Siegfried couldn't help but pinch his forearm to make sure this was in fact reality. He could only imagine the people if they found out this was how royalty acted behind closed doors. He didn't mind of course; not only was it his job, it was a…. Break… from business. "So these are the people that make up a royal meeting? How….. chaotic. Hopefully we can get down to business and be on our way soon, or I feel they'll only become more restless." He mused under his breath, only to look up at the heart Jack as he said something he'd never thought he'd hear at such an event. Did he just threaten their king with a vasectomy? Just what was in that letter? He didn't get much of a chance to actively think about it, as two servants opened the door whilst pushing a cart of refreshments.

Of course they kneeled to the royals in the room, but Siegfried instead focused on the people and their cart with a small sigh as they began to make their rounds. Hopefully it wouldn't be seen as rude when he didn't eat or drink anything; it would be most unprofessional for a meeting. Maybe he'd do it if he was a royal and could act more like the group before him. While he would indeed not eat the pastries and whatnot lest something muck about his teeth, he couldn't refuse the wine in time. Waiting a moment, Siegfried placed the drink in front of his king as an offering. "Perhaps this will help you keep this entertaining." He mused, tapping it with his finger lightly before retaking one of the mana-chairs that was kindly given to him and Iris.

"….why should we let the Diamond Kingdom exist any further?"

Excusing the declaration of love for the Spade Queen, Siegfried expected this topic to come up. Everyone knew that the Diamonds were weak, only held aloft by their alliance with Spades. With the peace treaty ending today, naturally the Diamond kingdom would want another peace treaty, or some sort of pact to keep the other kingdoms from snuffing them out and claiming their remaining assets. With this question alone, they've been put under the light immediately, and pressure starts to build in multiple locations. Leaning forward in his chair slightly, Siegfried interlocked his gloved hands and began to strategize. What was going to happen, and how does Club come out on top? Actively running through plan after plan as his eyes flicked from royal to royal, gauging their reaction to this topic.

What was interesting, however, was that it wasn't even the topic at hand. The Heart Jack was standing; a matter of national security? What manner of event could warrant a recess of the Royal meeting? "A threat that immediately calls for the attention of the entire heart royalty. One wonders what it could be." Siegfried mused curiously, looking to his own royalty for their answer. He didn't advise a recess, but it was still their decision.

 

[Remembrance]

Art de Glace and Caroline EarnestFormless shapes and works of arts shifted around him, this was always his favorite part about memory diving; finding the golden goose. The scene was set and the memory began. To any average man, this scene would rather heartbreaking. A son leaving his controlling father in pursuit of his dreams. How heartwarming. To Art, it was hilarious. To see this child release attempt to contain his children from moving on past tradition, it was too dissimilar to a play. Though, the family relations struck a nerve in Art; it reminded him of his family.

As the father stomped and ruined every shoe the son made, it was saddening. Art could tell the son had great sentimental value for them, it was only natural that he escape from a home where his creations aren't welcome. Another poetic sight. Probably.

Why would the father however be betrayed? A father shouldn't feel betrayed by his son. Children of parents who govern over them as a ruler would govern over his land; they desperately look for ways not to be their parents. Art knew that well himself. Was his father a killer? Well, possibly but not to the extent Art carried it. Was his mother trained in martial arts? Probably. The scene ended with the father taking a drink from a bottle of rum.

Oh well.

Art awoke with a gasp, breathing heavily. This action was costly, he felt drained but it was worth it. Sitting up from the collapsed throne, Art grinned. "I found it," He announced. Shifting his eyes towards the awoken 5 soldiers, waiting patiently to search, Art apologized for waking them and told them they were more than free to go back and rest. With an inhale; Art felt relief. No more digging. Though, one problem stayed in the back of his mind. The son, Hephaestus. He knew the location of the lair, he could've told someone, it's possible he could've gone and already claimed the treasure. It was a threat to the expedition but Art ran a few scenarios and considered the possibility of Hephaestus claiming the treasure nearly impossible but still probable.

Two guardsmen stood beside Art. Picking himself up, he instructed them to take the drunkard's unconscious body away from the camp. Before they departed, he handed them the 10 silver, ordering them to leave it in his hands. Art would've done it himself but having them do it, while menial, ensures that they don't believe Art killed him. While Art awaited their return, Caroline approached him.

"Did you find it?" She asked.
"There." Art pointed southward towards the location of the lair. "Someone else knows though."
"And that is a problem how?" Caroline looked up, the stars appearing identical to before.
Art clicked his tongue, responding bitterly. "It was a few years ago." The two guards appeared from the horizon, their torches serving as beacons. "Who knows what could've happened."
Caroline shifted her gaze onto Art. "Stop being paranoid." She departed from the conversation, heading to her assigned tent.

With the return of the guard duo, Art praised them and went off to take a rest.

- - -

The sun rose accompanied with the sounds of distant chirping, Art awoke early to view the sunrise. He liked the soft blue tone the sky became and the look of the skyline. While much of their surroundings were clear brown dirt unearthed from below the grass, it was beautiful to Art. Imperfections are everywhere, nothing can be perfect.

Soldiers came out of their tents, suited and ready for more digging. Art told those awake to awaken the others and gather around the center of the camp. There, Art announced that he discovered the location of the lair with the help of a friendly druid last night. He ordered the soldiers pack up and prepare themselves for the expedition. With a final rally and hoorah, he sent the men off to collect their things.

With the sun a little higher than it was before, Art and his men set off southbound.

They arrived at the sun's apex. The location of the Thief King and his lair, here. Art turned around and began another rally. He couldn't bring in his entire retinue so a modest amount would be preferable to avoid a packed dungeon. "Ten soldiers! I require at least 10 to enter this dungeon. I want the best to accompany me and only the best!" Art's eyes darted across the crowd. "Set up a camp and someone get me Amycus!"
Coyote Hart ​

 

[Goonfire]

Leolin Hravart III

A thin stream of molten glass fired straight upwards from the ground between the two men. Leolin pulled the heat from it quickly enough to instantly cool it, so it wouldn't rain down on them. The weight of the solidified jet of sand caused it to crumble and sink back into the superheated melting pot a mere few feet below them. "That's enough...!" he barked at the Devil, a bead of sweat forming on his own brow. The ring of fire around them seemed to chew its way downwards until it met the searing soup underneath it, the power still steadily and rapidly increasing as the heat toasted their feet through their footwear.

Leo knew how this game worked; the mage had seen it far too many times in the past. The enemy, backed into a corner, promises information and then retaliates when one is lured into a false sense of security, assuring an easy kill or escape. He could recall every time he let it happen and how many deaths it caused. The images of the deceased raced through his head, each more vivid than the last. His eyes were bloodshot, his bare knuckles white. His breathing hastened as all the memories hammered his scarred psyche. The rage built until it reached a breaking point.

The ace unleashed a scream at the top of his lungs. Twisting around, he cannon-jumped straight up. The ground shook and shifted as is began to cave in from that point, swirling down into to the slice of hell beneath it. His winged boots carried him as he watched what unfolded below him.

Yet he cried... The sight of a man sinking to his apparent demise was hard to witness. What if he really was coming quietly? Could the broken ace have taken the chance? The question will haunt him for an eternity, regardless of who assured him it was the right thing.

vielpotato

 

[Coyote Hart]

The area that Art's group ended up at was a heavily forested area. It wasn't as thick as Noah's Ark was, but there were certainly quite a few trees surrounding the area. They were quite far away from any sort of civilization. In front of the group was a large cliffside, the sheer height making the trees look like dwarves in comparison. There didn't seem to be any good way to get up it, or down it for that matter.

RATAR was a fast and efficient machine, and within a few minutes, a makeshift campsite was made, with some of the men using their superior strength to cut down the trees in the way. The remaining stumps were then used as tables and chairs. As for Art's request for the ten best men... more than half of the group stepped forward. It shouldn't really be surprising, considering the society they were in valued power. If one didn't have the strength or magic to back them up, they wouldn't survive in Ornare. So there were plenty of people ready to prove their might.

Art's call for Amycus was promptly answered, and the wavy-haired, eyewear-donning noble approached Art, going down on one knee when he was within five feet of the man. His expression was carefully neutral. Amycus used two fingers to push his glasses up and then asked, "Sir, what do you require of me?"

Meanwhile, Caroline's ring would react, and in front of her, buried into the cliffside, an illusion became undone. In its place was a pair of large, undecorated doors that were twice as tall as her... if she was standing up.

Remembrance

 

[vielpotato]

The Silent Devil

The Devil's clothes were burning off slowly at first, and then rapidly as the temperature rose. Once the floor dropped, the robe was almost gone revealing his slim but fit body. "Damn dude... Thanks for not making it collapse on me..." The Devil was thankful, waiting for everything to drop and to be taken in. But instead, the unexpected happened. The Ace jumped, as the floor collapsed. Moving the scream from the Ace, still lingering in the air, the Devil used the rest of his little mana to make a sound barrier that lasted long enough for the Devil to jump to buy himself a few seconds. I could use you now, you know.. The telepathic message, right as the Devil was jumping, reached the receiver as the ground shook again. But this time, the shaking was a greater force than the Devil's attacks. "Thanks for the lesson, Mister Ace. I'd love to learn again from you, but hopefully next time with a lot fewer death attempts, okay?" The Devil smiled, as he waved one final time as the Wyrm came and ate the Devil as it came from one side of the fire wall and out the other side with it's "meal". The Ace heard one more thing before the shaking started and ended again. "See you again!"

What the Ace didn't see or know was that the Wyrm was waiting the entire time, waiting for it's call from the Devil. Once the Devil finally gave the call, it jumped through and kept the Devil in it's mouth before exiting the ring. Once safely out, the Wyrm opened it's mouth and allowed for the Devil to leave it in which he gave the message to the Ace. While not a defeat, the Devil was disappointed in himself as he didn't expect this sort of variable in his plan. The Wyrm buried underground again, causing the shake and the silence again afterwards as the Devil barely escaped.
Goonfire​

 

[Goonfire]

Leolin Hravart III

Loss is not easily accepted, especially not by a certain fire-wielding ubermensch. Leolin glanced between his home of Corda and the retreating Wyrm. His choice needed to be immediate, and so it was. "I'm sorry, Guin."

The ace descended after the Wyrm, sprinting at top speeds into the fast-crumbling burrow. The massive tunnel had more than enough diameter for him to barely make it in-time for the ground to settle behind them, gravity sealing the only other exit. The stuffy environment became difficult to navigate, so with his thermal vision active, he made one more great bound to grab onto the Wyrm's body while it accelerated. His strong hands latched onto the massive plates of its solid exterior, allowing him to squeeze his way under said scale. From there, he braced to hold against being crushed and to avoid slipping. The thunderous noise of the Wyrm's burrowing rendered Leo nearly deaf for the duration, so he tried to feel his enemy's auras.

vielpotato Kloudy

 

[Remembrance]

Art de Glace and Caroline EarnestWatching his men set up and produce a makeshift camp within the hour was impressive, to say the least. Art felt like a parent watching their children succeed in the world. Though, more thinking of family relations had sorrowed the night before and Art wasn't ready for more thoughts about his parents.

Looking at the cliffside, it was magnificent. If one were to say this was the location of the lair, Art wouldn't have disagreed. Running scenarios through his head, he imagined the layout and what lied ahead. Traps, possible golems, false hallways, more illusions. The dangers of the unknown lurked behind those large doors. Beside him, Caroline beamed with excitement, eager to adventure in. Before Art could deliver the bad news, more than half of his retinue appeared behind him. I suppose I did ask for the best.

Art knew most of the volunteers personally, though that didn't make the choice any better. After a short deliberation, Art decided to choose among the volunteers based on their skillset. He instructed the rest to set up a guard rotation and clear any trees if they must. He pulled aside a dozen of the volunteers as well, he told them to travel to the nearest city in the kingdom and get the garrison to the camp with some caravans.

Placing his eyes down onto Amycus, Art placed his hand onto the soldier's arm, leading him to a standing position. "Amycus, you will accompany me in the lair." Taking a deep breath, he placed his hand onto his shoulder and stared eye to eye with the noble. "And never kneel in front of me." A memory passed by in Art's mindscape, knowing the feeling of being a low standing member of the assassin's guild. He wasn't even an official member 5 years ago. Art hated the subservience of his peers. Soldiers as high as they shouldn't place themselves below Art. While he is their leader, he doesn't consider a single one of them below him in status or power.

Caroline kept her gaze onto the doors as Art kneeled beside her. "I'm not allowing you into there." He stated. He wasn't ready to let her risk her life, not to mention her relationship with the 18th Seat. Caetano himself was in the group accompanying the 1st Seat who was also in the expedition group.
"I knew you wouldn't," Caroline sighed with discontent. "I wouldn't let someone like me into a dungeon this dangerous."
Art shifted his gaze towards her. "Never say that." He spoke sharply. "Do not ever place yourself under us." Art stood up, laying his eyes back onto the doors.
Caroline turned back to the camp, silent.

With his group assembled, Art placed his hands onto the large gate, pushing them open.
Coyote Hart​

 

[Coyote Hart]

Character sheets of Atlas and Nike will be provided to Kloudy as soon as possible. This post breaks my NPC posting style, however, I think it's necessary. Atlas has a 1000/150 statline while Nike has a 200/900 statline.

Atlas's Theme | Nike's Theme​

"AHHHHHHH!!!!" a crazed battle scream trailed off from the top of the Corda castle before a man with a hang glider whizzed by in the sky. That man's name was Atlas, a prominent Corda researcher, interested in all manners of magic and technology, whether that be Argossian, Ornarian, or his own flavor of steampunk. It was extremely out of character for the young man to be screaming. His actions spoke volumes of words, so words tended to be useless for the young man. However, this time, he was screaming because of panic, and when you're panicking, you scream. Reason being: Atlas lost control of his hang glider and was now barreling down at breakneck speeds.

From the balcony of his room in the castle where he had been relaxing, Atlas had seen the battle unfold below him. He had seen the terrorist take out an entire militia in a second. He had also been there when the Ace of Hearts went on his five minute rush to push back against the terrorist. It was very fortunate that Atlas was the exception when it came to nobles being mobilized. He was more useful at home, where he could make new magics to win the battle. Besides, his flavor of curse magic was nearly illegal, so nobody dared to utilize him in combat.

Meanwhile, a similar battle scream resounded down at the floor of Corda. One of the soldiers groggily stood up and in an act of defiance against common sense and will, she charged at Cain. This woman was Nike, Atlas's twin sister and the bane of his life. While with her strength she could've been a noble, she fain rejected the opportunity in favor of being a soldier. Battles allowed for more glory to be won than sitting cooped up in a room all day-- like Atlas. To Nike, being knocked down by one sound blast from a lowly terrorist was irremissible. She was going to reclaim her honor, and she would push her body to accomplish that. Problem being, even at max speed, she was far from fast enough to make it to the Masked Devil.

Fortunately, that was where Atlas came into play. While he spun out of control in the air and slowly became dizzier and dizzier, he saw what he thought was Nike-- the perfect landing pad. Nike and Atlas's everconstant rivalry allowed for the two of them to recognize themselves at first glance. Atlas had two options: He could either try to change his course, or he could use his magic so that Nike would be right where Atlas was going to land. Atlas chose the latter. If he changed his course, that would mean messing up his calculations, and in his dizzy state, Atlas doubted that he could find the factors necessary for recalculation. So instead, he gave Nike a boost of speed through his magical affinity-- telekinesis. It didn't work. Nike stopped before she got to the circle, unwilling to get her feet scorched.

So instead Atlas simply crashed into the wyrm, and when the wyrm re-adjusted itself to chow down on Cain, Atlas used his magic to propel himself with his shattered wings into the wyrm's mouth. When he did hit the inside of the wyrm though, he winced as pain shot up his body. He definitely broke a few bones. He also had been hoping that Nike could come with him, as he knew he didn't stand a chance on his own against the terrorist.

"Damn it, nerd!" Atlas heard Nike scream from below, "Hogging all the stupid glory!"

The two of them had been enemies ever since they came out of the womb together. Nike would steal Atlas's sandwich, and then Atlas would pour the ice cold water from the water jug onto Nike's head in retaliation. As they grew older and their hobbies diversified and split, Nike became more and more aggressive with her rivalry, and Atlas became more and more passive-aggressive. Nike would trip Atlas in the halls of the Corda castle, and then a week later, Nike would find that her room was overrun with chickens. Their rivalry spilled into the battlefield: Nike wanted all the glory in the world so that she could prove she was better than her brother, meanwhile, Atlas wanted to invent the best magic in the world and have all the fame and recognition just to spite Nike.

But this was a situation Atlas didn't want to be in. He didn't excel at one on one combat. Even despite that, Atlas knew that he had to hold out, so he drew his pistol and pointed it right at Cain, and with a tired declaration, said, "Villain, your fight ends now."

vielpotato Goonfire

 

[. D O V E]

Guineverre Victoria y Blanca​

A devastating news shortly followed the meeting's commencement. Sanguine eyes widened amidst the summit, her shoulders stiffening as Declan finished his report. The Heart's capital, Corda, has been attacked. A portion of the northern Upper Ring has been leveled by a single terrorist, damaging a number of noble properties. She frankly couldn't decide whether they were lucky or not since most of their nobles and their retinues were mobilized someplace else. Regardless, this greatly angered the Queen. The collective idiocy of everyone in this royal circus paled in comparison to the perpetrator's.

As a result, Guin took a heavy drink from her goblet of tomato juice as Twig stood and spoke up. She barely processed what he said though, as she was busy savoring the fruity taste sliding down her throat. Even after all these years, she still found the taste of tomatoes unpleasant. Twig was incorrect; she hated the fruits for their taste. Once she was done, she released a small sigh and lowered the goblet, idly circling it as its neck sat in the middle of her index and middle fingers. "Sit down, Twig." She spoke, both face and voice oddly calm as she kept her eyes ahead. "Our Ace and militia has it under control." Sanguine eyes trekked to the recently filled Spade's corner. "Those who play with fire will get burned."

The ends of her lips curled into a smile as her eyes continued to trail the rest of the royalties. "There's no need for us to postpone anything. After all, everyone graciously took a portion of their time to get in here. Continue the meeting." She flicked her wrist towards the Diamonds in an attempt to pass the attention their way. "Imperious as it may sound, King Valentines present a valid question. Let's cut to the chase; why should we prolong the treaty, King Dornwell?" She bore her eyes to Arimand, the man who requested the coalition's extension, squinting ever so slightly. Her mind wandered back to the encounter they had five years ago and their subsequent discussion. She was giving the King his chance to convince the rest of the royalties into agreeing. A big part of her wondered if he was going to reveal everything they knew about the gods and the alleged celestial infighting.

"What offer could possibly satiate our hungry nobles? What threat could force them into agreeing to yet another five-year coalition? Frankly as it stands, it just looks as though you're asking our kingdoms to sit idly while yours recover." With that said, the Queen leaned back on her seat.

"Declan, communicate with Corda and let it be known I want the terrorist dead. Additionally, have the damage assessed as soon as possible. Our nobles will be inspired in the upcoming days once they hear of this. Keep me updated." She ordered her telepath before briefly glancing at the oddly pompous Cassius.

Mechking Coyote Hart AI10100 Everyone in the meeting

 

[SentinelSevn]

The crunching and grinding of metal along metal signaled the beginning of the ship's departure. The heavy chains that hoisted the anchor holding the ship in place slowly made its way out of the murky depths of the calm waters below them, and the sight of it rising out of the water made the crew excited but anxious. This once in a lifetime adventure of theirs, with an unknown finish line and and even more unknown racing track. As glorious as it appeared to be, one couldn't help but accept the truth that perhaps this journey was not just going to be as simple as discovering some island. The mercenaries that the captain hired that were now on board the ship, made that truth ever more striking.

As the Red Pigeon pulled away from the docks, sailors could be seen making their way to the stern of the ship. Groups of them with their arms high in the sky as they waved to company returning their waves at the shore. There were a small few with tears in their eyes, the younger crew members perhaps with only the smallest of experiences under their belt. Quite a few couldn't have been more than seventeen, children who were eager to get out into the world with a sense of adventure. On the other hand, it was the grizzled, veteran members of the seas who continued with their eyes forward. Some looking out into the vast blue seas, the sight of such an open world never ceasing to be an awe. Others remained simply on the deck, waiting among their thoughts for the captain to bark out his next set of orders.

When the people who had lined up to watch the ship set sail became nothing more than a blur, the unfurling of the ship's sails lurched the Red Pigeon forward as it was caught along the strength of the ocean's gale. The sudden change in speed would send a few people reeling to regain their balance, but the crew was quick to move to regain control of the sails. The breadth of the ship rose in speed until it created a billowing wave of white as it tore through the ocean waves like a hot knife through butter. Soon, the magnificence of the Red Pigeon became more than just some large ship, it became a menacing sight to see.


Hours upon hours of sailing did the crew continue across the waters, the sun having fallen from above their heads for quite some time as it began to set. The endless horizon in front of them became less of an awe, and more a fear that they were heading into nothingness. Every now and then, the sight of some trading vessel making their way in the opposite direction would spark interest in few, but be little more than just a glancing sight for most.

For those that even paid any mind to said ships, each appeared to tell the same story. Torn planks at the exterior body of the ship, their mantles being nothing more than nailed in place. Bullet holes in the sails. And a crew that looked, almost afraid, of the passing bodies atop the Red Pigeon.

"Captain!" a voice called out, one of the sailors assigned to the crow's nest above their heads looked almost frantic. His eyes glowed blue, as mana coursed throughout his body and channeled towards the casting of a buff to enhance his sight. He had his hand pointed out towards something out past the stern of the ship, where smoke could be seen billowing into the bright blue skies in the distance. Fire could be seen tearing through the waters, the trading vessel that they had passed not even ten minutes before, was nothing more than a sinking wreck now.

Before the captain could even pull himself up to the stern of the ship to have a look, a number of the crew had already begun to prepare the ship for a possible skirmish. Tying down what sat loosely atop the deck with spare rope, and manning themselves at the ship's cannons. Many more just looked up at the captain, awaiting his orders for what he would want the rest of them to do next. This would not have been the first time the thought of having to take up arms was to run through the crew's mind.

And as if on cue, when the captain had finally made his way to look out at what had piqued everybody's interest. The body of another vessel erupted out of the smoke, with their sights set directly on the Red Pigeon. As it continued to pull itself away from the wreckage of the trading ship, it was hard not to notice the number of flags strewn off its edges. Each ensign scalped off of the top of the ships they called home, only to be hung like trophies that were left to soak the salty ocean waves. Soon as the ship came fully into view, the skull and crossbones that everybody expected to see came strikingly even against the smoke behind it. The jolly roger flown proudly at the both pillars of the ship's sails.

Pirates..

The Quest for the Stormcaller

Current Character Participants:
- Vierdante - R10 ; AI10100
- Wysteria - R10 ; LazyDaze
- Elijah - R6 : Colorless Spectrum

Current NPCs in play:
- Captain Beacon - R9 ; Lazy
- Eadrick Night - R5 ; Spec
- Howard Dellin - R8 ; AI
- Nathaniel Dower - R8 ; AI
- Sebastian the Crab - R11 ; Spec

Spoiler

Current Characters Killed:
NA... for now

 

[LazyDaze]

STORMCALLER QUEST| WYSTERIA, NAUTILUS

There was something peculiar about setting off for parts unknown; the vastness and emptiness of a blue void stretching for miles and miles only to connect right back to the origins of it all brought about a strange freedom to even the most hardened of hearts, the most experienced of soldiers. Just as the horizon balanced the moving sea and reigning sky, so did their hearts balance freedom and fear. The Captain was always weary of the fearless, not to be confused with brave sailors, for how then would one could overcome the limits if they did not know them in the first place. Fear and wonder was what drove progress; it was that which cemented history and challenged the future. More now than ever, the Captain feared what awaited in the infinite bosom of the ocean. The battlefield of those free from the world. He could not help but embrace the helplessness that creeped into his heart. It was as if he was sailing on the very palm of the sea, waiting to be crushed at any moment; however, defying the hands of the world was the dream of every man who dared called himself a sailor. His rigid face managed to crack a small smile at the thought. "Don't disappoint us now."

Wysteria stood on the edge of the Red Pigeon, a hand on the rail, another twirling her ornate umbrella that casted a comfortable shade in place of the beating rays of the sun. She was not particularly fond of taking orders from others; however, at the time she wasn't...herself. She had wanted to get as far from Club Kingdom as possible, and now that she had succeeded, Wysteria was left with the fruits of her decision...nothing. Sure, an other worldly venture was as good a distraction as any, but what would it really mean at the end? She supposed she just could not identify those who preferred the journey over the prize. Infuriatingly, that seemed to be embedded in the eyes of everyone on this hell bound ship. The dilated eyes and jittery bones practically screamed an unhealthy craving for the unknown. Wysteria turned her gaze back to the ocean, knowing dull bones and closed eyes often spelled out regret and terror. She couldn't help but wonder what was the cost of listening to your heart. She had done the same, and it infuriated her. The worst of it all was that she couldn't suppress the relief that she had.

Wysteria watched impassioned as she caught a glimpse of the pungent fear of the sailors they had recently passed. It sparked her intrigue, but nothing more. After a few more minutes of wondering exactly how they would be able to chase a mirage, she heard a fellow crew mate shout for the Captain. His urgency, managed to move her enough to search for whatever obstacle they might face. The Captain sought out the danger barreling toward them, squinting his eyes to find a plume of grey and crimson smearing the blue canvas that surrounded them. The ship they had just crossed, being the sacrifice for such devilish art. The Captain Nautilus' hand gripped the steering wheel a bit tighter, seeing the arrogant jolly rodger of the ship sailing behind them. His well trained crew had already begun to move, but what of the others...who awaited the heavy words of their Captain. His fury turned into a devilish smile as he began to turn the wheel to face off with the treacherous demons of the sea. "Didn't think I would get to give this ship a test drive this early. All corners of the ocean belong to Club Kingdom! I say we teach em a lesson!"

Wysteria calmly moved up toward the upper deck where the Captain stood before speaking. "...They're pirates, they might have supplies, or valuable information pertaining to our venture. Even with our resources, we're still chasing ghosts I imagine. Nevertheless, I doubt they know what they're up against...drunk off of victory."

"Er right...I was just excited is all, but don't worry, I'll give them a rope to cling on to. Then we can tie it into a noose later! Ready the lightning cannons marksmen, we will be in range shortly! They may have powerful mages so let's take them by surprise once they are within range! Aim for their mast and crush them in one blow! Free hands, stay on the look out for suspicious activity, especially water and wind based magic! You are free to act on your own accord unless instructed otherwise!"

Wysteria turned to her special forces, and pointed toward the enemy ship. "We don't have to leave everyone alive. Just enough to interrogate. I'm sure we will lead the boarding party. Be ready on my signal. Until then prepare, pirates are very underhanded after all." Wysteria walked toward the bow of the ship while Captain Nautalis gave everyone the order to hang on. With one swipe, he spun the wheel to turn the ship about face, grasping the wheel at just the right moment to avoid oversteering. This could be a big catch.

SentinelSevn AI10100 Colorless Spectrum

 

[TPBx]

Guineverre Victoria y Blanca​

A devastating news shortly followed the meeting's commencement. Sanguine eyes widened amidst the summit, her shoulders stiffening as Declan finished his report. The Heart's capital, Corda, has been attacked. A portion of the northern Upper Ring has been leveled by a single terrorist, damaging a number of noble properties. She frankly couldn't decide whether they were lucky or not since most of their nobles and their retinues were mobilized someplace else. Regardless, this greatly angered the Queen. The collective idiocy of everyone in this royal circus paled in comparison to the perpetrator's.

As a result, Guin took a heavy drink from her goblet of tomato juice as Twig stood and spoke up. She barely processed what he said though, as she was busy savoring the fruity taste sliding down her throat. Even after all these years, she still found the taste of tomatoes unpleasant. Twig was incorrect; she hated the fruits for their taste. Once she was done, she released a small sigh and lowered the goblet, idly circling it as its neck sat in the middle of her index and middle fingers. "Sit down, Twig." She spoke, both face and voice oddly calm as she kept her eyes ahead. "Our Ace and militia has it under control." Sanguine eyes trekked to the recently filled Spade's corner. "Those who play with fire will get burned."

The ends of her lips curled into a smile as her eyes continued to trail the rest of the royalties. "There's no need for us to postpone anything. After all, everyone graciously took a portion of their time to get in here. Continue the meeting." She flicked her wrist towards the Diamonds in an attempt to pass the attention their way. "Imperious as it may sound, King Valentines present a valid question. Let's cut to the chase; why should we prolong the treaty, King Dornwell?" She bore her eyes to Arimand, the man who requested the coalition's extension, squinting ever so slightly. Her mind wandered back to the encounter they had five years ago and their subsequent discussion. She was giving the King his chance to convince the rest of the royalties into agreeing. A big part of her wondered if he was going to reveal everything they knew about the gods and the alleged celestial infighting.

"What offer could possibly satiate our hungry nobles? What threat could force them into agreeing to yet another five-year coalition? Frankly as it stands, it just looks as though you're asking our kingdoms to sit idly while yours recover." With that said, the Queen leaned back on her seat.

"Declan, communicate with Corda and let it be known I want the terrorist dead. Additionally, have the damage assessed as soon as possible. Our nobles will be inspired in the upcoming days once they hear of this. Keep me updated." She ordered her telepath before briefly glancing at the oddly pompous Cassius.

Mechking Coyote Hart AI10100 Everyone in the meeting

Athania Kaloronos

Athania sat idly as she watched in silence as events unfolded leading up the commencement of the meeting. She sighed as she watched back and forth between the Royals and their petty arguments. "Frankly, its pretty obvious why the treaty should be extended. This pathetic infighting that I've seen leading up to the start of this meeting is more than enough proof. The reason why the Argossians have been successful not just once, but twice in destroying large swaths of the country is due to each Kingdom's inability to unite against common threats. And there's more than just the Argossians out there. Other future threats could possibly take us out before we even have the chance to reconvene to fight together on a united front."

Darien shifted in his seat, leaning in more closely to hear what this young woman had to say. She did pose an interesting situation, and frankly it wasn't without reason either. The Kingdom of Diamonds throughout its history has been shafted by its proximity to Argossia, thus the offensives that leave the kingdom devastated. "I see nothing wrong with this reasoning," the Ace replied, "though I find it hard to trust the words of a traitor's daughter." He gave Athania a smug but serious glare, knowing those words would hit a particularly bad chord with her. Athania clenched her fists and some sparks of light purple Dysidia energy came from them, but she quickly calmed herself down and did not let her emotions take the better of her.

 

[vielpotato]

Arthur and Tim
The brothers, although separated a majority of the time, come together and share their plans. Just recently, Arthur and Tim meet up for their discussion to see if they can help each other, and the plan Arthur laid out interested Tim enough that he took time off during the royal meeting to go out to the Heart desert. The trip, with Tim, Arthur, and a mage with healing magic, was on it's way until they reached the desert in the northern region. The first task was to find this "mirage" of towns, called Leo the Clever’s 'Mausoleum of Lords'. Tim made sure to bring a flask enchanted to purify any water, and condense it naturally from the air/the bodies of the men exploring, which would be a Stryker-send in the desert. The last piece of equipment is a torch that can be used to instantly catch on fire for light, as none of the men had fire magic in case the areas were to be dark.

Kloudy

 

[LazyDaze]

X wasn't at all surprised when Guin agreed with him; he was even less surprised at Athania's answer. It was satisfactory ad expected. At the very least, it the meeting would prove to have some entertaining adversaries, or comrades depending on how this meeting ended. Iris listened with hope, hanging on to every word while X simply stared at his glass of wine doing the same but portraying otherwise.

"That seems to be a satisfactory answer." Iris said while leaning back in her chair. She knew things weren't that simple, but it was a good start. "Our enemies could take advantage of this in fighting as you would put-"

"It's not," X said while dipping his pinky in the red wine and poking it underneath his mask so he could have a taste.

"I-it's wha-," Iris stumbled nervously.

"The answer...it's not satisfactory." X then cut his eyes back to the diamonds, unwilling to let them off with a surface level response to this complex situation. The only difficult part would be making his case with as few words as possible. "It's easy to be a pacifist when you're in a coma..." X began as placed his pinky back into his glass and began swirling it around. "The Argossians are reeling. These other countries seeking an advantage lost their best chance to kill us 5 years ago, meaning they are uninterested, or lack the ability. Objectively, now is actually the perfect time for useless in fighting..."

Iris couldn't believe what she was hearing. She couldn't believe it was making sense, but she didn't know why X was pushing against peace so fervently. Isn't this what they were here to discuss? X never seemed like the type to be a warmonger, so why? It was the only question that danced on the edge of tongue, yet remained sealed by her lips.

"...A peaceful Diamond in the future is no guarantee. Based on Ornare history...it's unlikely actually. So why guess, when we could have-"

"One less variable..." Iris said, finishing X's sentence as if she was appalled at her own realization.

"I was going to say wild sex."

"We both know you weren't," Iris said with a sigh, feeling sick since she could see where this was going. X rubbed the back of his head and turned away to avoid her ire. She just wished it would be over already...it was as if he was personally tormenting her despite speaking to the diamonds.

"Anyway, Yes...Ornare would actually be closer to unity and easier to manage with less in fighting just as you have suggested. It would also serve to solve the other problem, after all we're not as sovereign as we would like to think."

That other problem, the nobles was quite irksome. Leave it to the denizens of Ornare to be revving up for war just after a rebuild. Sure, peace for the next 5-10 years sounded great, but the battle hardened children were growing restless. Whispers of war spread like a greedy fire and though the royals, if they wanted, could probably stave off another war for that long with some fancy speeches, or flippant reasoning, eventually it would only become an excuse. Then the interest collected during that peace would have to be paid in full, unless the tension was released at some point. Given the economic and military resources the other countries had, the obvious lamb to sacrifice to release said tension would have to be the Diamonds. Moreover, allowing the Diamonds to become a major player in this game of chess without some serious perks, would likely lead to some revolting in the next few years after their resurgence. They would need more reason than 'we need to work together', for that could be done...sans Diamond. The current goal, satisfy the blood lust with as little recoil to Ornare as much as possible, simple enough....objectively speaking. "So if you would be so kind," X said as his eyes formed a crinkle, indicating he was probably smiling beneath the mask while speaking in jovial tone. "Could you die for us?" His glass made a harmonious ring as he circled the rim with his fingers and stopped almost as soon as the sound resonated. He was truly curious what else the Diamonds had to say.

TPBx

 

[The Prophet]

𝕾𝖎𝖊𝖌𝖋𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖉 𝕸𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖆 𝕽𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖘𝖈𝖍𝖎𝖑𝖉​

Instinctually finding himself reaching into his coat to pull out a loose chess piece, Siegfried listened to the Queen's predictable response to King Valentine's question while idly fiddling with a black knight. Already on the defense, Diamond was going to have to jump through hoops to stay afloat in this climate. Though, it looked like with a reason such as that, they were just asking to get strung up by the very same rings. Clearing his throat quietly to garner his King's attention, he leaned over in his direction slightly to give his take on their response. But the King was already tightening the moose.

If there wass one thing that Siegfried could not understand, it would be King Valentine's mind. Sometimes the man was an utter jester, while other times King Valentine would show signs of being highly intelligent. This was one of those times. It was as if X took the very words out of his mouth, leaving Siegfried with an involuntary twitch of a smirk. "It would seem my King had the very same point I was about to make." The advisor mused quietly, and instead delegated to elaborate on the subject with his Jack. Bringing up a gloved hand to hide his lips, Siegfried began to whisper. "I had the same thought as His Clubship. You'd be able to see the benefits of King Valentine's proposal, yes? Not only would it severely reduce in-fighting in order to better respond to threats like Argossia, if we were to divy up their land and assets three ways not only would it be a boon to the rest of the kingdoms; the land would recover and prosper due to the much greater resources of the three kingdoms and would in turn provide for a much stronger defense against aforementioned Argossians." He paused for a moment to scan the royalty once more before continuing, "Both short-term in quelling our nobility's thirst for battle and reducing in-fighting, and long-term in boosting our economy and defense…. There are a lot of upsides to snuffing them out and splitting their assets. This is quite nearly a zugzwang, in which they've been forced to make moves that are inherently bad. You can likely shut down anything they say, so it comes down to if you want them around or not. And if you do, it comes down to how hard you want to hound them until you let them off the hook." Siegfried leaned away after giving his piece, returning to quietly sitting straight as he messed with the chess piece in his hands.

Hopefully his Jack would act on this knowledge he'd just given, but in the meantime he would have to predict how the Diamonds would respond and continue. if he was honest, one would expect the diamonds to fall upon a stratagem based or otherwise reliant on pathos as it was likely clear that logos would be counted time and time again. It really was a zugzwang on the diamonds part. Perhaps he was being short sighted, but the advisor really couldn't see a way out of this for them, save for the possible aid of another kingdom or the soft nature of a royalty, if there was someone like that.

 

[Coyote Hart]

Based on your choices, I will assume that you have chosen a group of people who have high physical skill and useful magicks over high magic or high phys. Please correct me in the #thiefs-lair-quest if I'm wrong. The crossbows are enchanted with Enhanced Firing Speed and you may choose to try to take them, however, reloading them is a 500 phys job.

Amycus allowed himself to be pulled up, although there were traces of confusion in his eyes. This quickly melted into relaxed respect for Art, and he replied with a hint of a smile, "Of course, sir."

The ones who didn't get selected to join accepted Art's decision gracefully, but not without some sort of discontentment. They returned to the campsite to relax and maintain peace. Those who did crowded with Art at the front door, ready to follow him into the depths of the unknown dungeon. Rather than taking the frontlines, Amycus allowed others to take it. His martial arts were best suited for person-to-person combat, and his Master of Fences ability could still be used even when not in the frontlines. That way, he could still provide defensive support against the traps without having to worry about his own wellbeing alongside it.

When Art pushed open the heavy stone doors, the dual sharp twangs of crossbows resounded through the echoey caverns. In less than the blink of an eye, the two people at Art's side fell to the ground, gurgling as they grasped at their necks-- where a crossbow bolt latched itself. Within moments, those two men were dead. A wall of Amycus's fence panels (I guess that'd just be a fence) appeared to block any more projectiles. None came.

"I'm sorry, I was too slow to protect them," Amycus said, although it was with a touch of apathetic coldness.

The dungeon was dark and lightless, and one of Art's men cast a quick fire spell to light three torches, one which was passed to Art, another to Amycus, and the last to one of the men at the back of the group. The flame of the torch illuminated the entrance to the Thief Lair. The floor, walls, and ceiling were all made of dull, unpolished stone bricks. The dungeon had a sharp right turn immediately following the entrance, and right at that turn was two small contraptions made of rope and two heavy crossbows. They were likely the crossbows that had felled two of Art's men.

Remembrance

 

[Coyote Hart]

​

Myles moved on from the Spade nobles, as they had pointedly ignored him. And based on the Ace of Spades' words, Myles didn't feel like serving him either. He continued to wheel the cart around the room to the Clubs. There were five people present: the big man X himself, the excitable but currently bored-looking Wren Insignia (who also was the only Club royal not on the side of the Jokers), fellow actor Adelleid Frey, Iris Bastille (who Myles had seen once or twice when Myles had been asked to go and teach the tinkerteers how to drive a car), and Siegfried. Siegfried in particular was problematic. As an important advisor of the Clubs, he was most likely to try to implement policies that would regress society. This was a perfect time to eliminate him from influencing the meeting, using the sweets he had on hand.

"Your Clubships, would any of you like any pastries?" Myles asked in a hushed tone as to not interrupt the meeting, "Life is so short, it's best to make it as sweet as it can be."

Myles turned to X and whispered to him specifically, "Take as many as you'd like, pastry addict."

He did keep one ear open for the meeting though. The discussion was about war and Argossians. It made Myles feel incredibly uncomfortable, although he knew that this wasn't the place for him to voice his thoughts. He was, by his disguise, a simple servant. The most he could do was poison their bodies with sweets, as he was attempting to do at the moment.

It filled Myles with sadness knowing that if his identity as an Argossian was discovered by any kingdom, even despite the lengths he took to hide it, he'd be donezo. The atrocities that his people had done in the name of war... it was despicable. Hearing the royals talk about the Argossians in such a negative light made it clear to Myles that he was simply an unwelcome visitor. It was refreshing how X advocated for a more unified Ornare though. It was a hallmark of X's behavior that showed that beneath all the horniness, chaos, and coldness, he was truly a Joker.

For now, though, Myles stuck to his part as a simple servant. He wondered what the outcome of the meeting was, but right now he was more interested in what pastry each of the Clubs would choose.

What fate would they succumb to?

LazyDaze Colorless Spectrum The Prophet ((Also everyone else at the meeting))

((Quick OOC note: One of Myles's skills, Acting Aficionado , is active in this post))