Finished [frontier] When stories abound, Legends will get you.

[Speed]

Faker

Titles: Isekai [Mundane], Human [Mundane], Attentive Student [Grade E]
Class: Striker
​

Faker hadn’t paid much attention when Kain introduced himself, his mind too occupied by the tension with Edwin. But something about the way Kain said his own name sounded... off, almost distorted. "What was that?" he wondered, raising an eyebrow. Still, with the black knight in front of them, Faker couldn’t respond, too cautious of the potential confrontation brewing.

After what felt like a prolonged standoff, tensions eased slightly. Faker allowed himself to relax, though his hand never left the handle of his blade; just in case things took a sudden turn. What had started as a near clash between the others gradually shifted into a more subdued exchange of words. The oddest part of it all, however, was the sudden song that broke out. A fae, Mephisto, began to sing, and though it was unexpected, Faker figured it was just part of the village’s celebration.

“Well, this is... different,” he thought, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. He didn’t quite follow the lyrics of the song but found the melody oddly pleasant. It wasn’t the time to focus on such things though; he still had to stay sharp.

His gaze drifted toward Dione, the blonde girl who had stood up to Edwin earlier. There was something in her cautious demeanor that Faker respected, a kind of wariness he himself shared. He had intended to approach her, hoping to gauge her thoughts on the strange situation they found themselves in. But just as he made up his mind to speak, everything around them shifted.

The warm glow of sunrise that had started to peek over the horizon vanished, replaced by an eerie stillness of night. For a brief moment, Faker’s vision blurred, as if the world itself was twisting. When his eyesight cleared, the festival was gone. The tables, the food, the bustling villagers; everything had disappeared, replaced by a chilling quiet. Fewer villagers were around now, and almost no adults could be seen.

Before he could even process what had happened, a scream pierced the air. Actually, two screams. One of them was his.

High-pitched and alarmingly feminine, Faker’s scream echoed alongside another. As soon as he realized what had happened, his face flushed with embarrassment. ”Please, let that other scream have been louder,” he thought as he hastily drew his blade, startled and on high alert.

"What just happened?" he shouted, hoping someone would provide answers. His eyes darted around, scanning the surroundings for any sign of danger. The festival’s disappearance was unsettling, and he didn’t like how things had suddenly shifted without warning.

His attention returned to Dione, who seemed to have been trying to take grasp of the situation. Her calm, yet guarded behavior suggested she might know more than she was letting on. Faker, his face still sprinkled with crumbs from the earlier feast, decided now was as good a time as any to seek her out.

Striding up to her with his sword still clenched in one hand, he attempted to appear more composed than he actually felt. "Care to share your thoughts?" he asked, his voice steady but curious, genuinely hoping she had some insight into what was going on.

After all, beautiful people tended to be trustworthy... right?

Interaction: Ersatra

 

[Maxxob]

Sir Edwin Stormcrest?

​

Titles
[Human - Mundane], [Noble Ryke Baronet] C, [Apprentice Lancer], Knight [Educated] Color - #0E0101

DarkKitsune Voider Mephisto Kris Rebel Ersatra Speed

The corrupted knight observed Dione with a cold, calculating gaze as she made her own stand. Begrudgingly, he had to give the woman some merit for standing tall, when others would have faltered. Yet, that reduced little the newborn, simmering desire to see her form skewered by his lance. His mind wondered about what sort of crimson hue would that canvas be painted, as the colors certainly varied, even if infinitesimally, from his own experience.

However, contrary to appearances, the baronet was lawful, taking things to its zenith exclusively when breaches were made. For now, he placed his earlier, burning wish inside his blackened heart, but not too deeply, lest it be forgotten and not acted upon if the chance ever presented itself.

Instead, he diverted his attention to Malia, as the woman began explaining what was happening in that odd and bizarre village. “Lupinvale…” He grumbled under his breath, trying to race his memory for knowledge about said place. But that failed him, the place apparently having met its grisly end many years before he was even born. “... to be bound to relieve one’s own demise. How tragic.” The dark knight’s voice was cold and detached, clearly feeling nothing for these souls’ predicament. Even someone in their tender years, such as Fione, caused no chink in his hardened heart.

“Still, to be in a race against Meldaron itself… seems like an interesting challenge.” To race fate, challenge it and force things into a finality. And, after all, the dead should remain dead. No use for weeping souls, unable to accept their own tragedy, to linger around…

Soon enough, the lancer saw himself in a different time altogether, vision become blurry and foggy for a moment, the momentarily darkened vision bringing him to full fighting stance, ready to lash out at anything that came even a few feet from him. Luckily, the loss of vision was only temporary, the dark keyholes of his helmet surveying how things had shifted in the village.

His survey of the land would end up being interrupted, two distinct screams reaching his ears, one sounding more of a finality of life, while the other of fear. One of the sources had been found readily, helmet groaning as Edwin place his sights directly on Faker. He knew, but neither said nor offered nothing about it. Still, the corner of his lips curled upwards under the horned headgear, entertaining himself on how some of them appeared to be on edge.

“That appeared to be a scream of death. Either through experience or through witnessing it.” The dark knight said in a cut and dry manner, sabatons moving against the ground, trying to follow its source. “Maybe some investigation is in order… discovery, right?” With those words, he kept moving, his crimson cape fluttering behind him slightly with each step. He was eager, fist closing shut, preying for violence.

 

[Mephisto]

Titles:

[Fae, Mundane], Text Colors: #ffcf30, #e60606

“It's Showtime!!” - 1/1, cooldown has ended

“One Hell of a Show!” - 0/1, cooldown ends soon

“We Have a Deal to Make” - 1/1, cooldown not active

| DarkKitsune | Voider | Speed | Ersatra | Kris Rebel | Maxxob |
​

---

There were indeed times when even the strange world of Mephisto’s inner machinations had to admit that he had tread too deep into black water. Uncharted and unknown, the instincts he cultivated as a caricature of chaos instead bit and gnawed against the survival mechanics inherent to someone of his station seeking the salvation of his own skin. No, not even the neurons pumping information that he could die at any second could stop him from analyzing the world around him. He wanted to know. He wanted to see, to hear, to consume.

He wanted more than just a sample drawn from pinpricks of light or echoes of noise. He kept his eyes peeled, every fiber therein twitching with crimson delight as he marveled at the swirling madness. The town burned to the ground, its inhabitants slaughtered to the last, just like what happened to lock the ghosts within a paradox of pain and suffering. The wailing phantoms were long dead. The bones laid in shallow, makeshift windswept graves were more than just testament to that.

They were an opportunity.

Without a care in the world or decency in his heart, Mephisto approached the cadavers with a spring to his step and a swing to his long limbs. He twirled the cane in his hand.

“Well, would you look at that?” he rubbed one of his eyes, knocking whatever latent interference might have been within from the momentary lapse in vision.

The blurring sensation surprised him at first, but he soon realized that it wasn’t his body failing him. Whatever he didn’t understand, whatever he didn’t know existed, did so without his consent. He approached the exposed corpse of a woman. She had been stripped of flesh many moons ago, the remnants picked clean by errant worms and scavengers. He pulled her free from the grasp of the hollow earth, strands of raw eldritch energy crawling from his fingertips and swirling into the nonexistent joints of the poor creature left behind and forgotten by time and family. [Illusion F 7]

“Atta girl!” Mephisto bowed his head slightly.

He noticed her jaw had been left askew by the process and so shut it with the head of his walking stick.

“Won’t you play us a little melody while the others engage in the rough and tumble?”

He gave the puppeteered skeleton a wide smirk, snapping his fingers and cracking open a nearby femur in such a way as to give her a form of flute. Of course, she had neither lungs nor air… and so when she placed her bare teeth against the leg bone of what was supposedly a good friend of hers, the magic coursing through her disheveled form merely cycled into the air and returned to continue giving her a cursed, unnatural “life”.

There existed necromancy, and then there existed horrifying parlor tricks. This fell into the latter category, with Mephisto using her corpse as a vessel and more of a record player than anything of substantial value.

Mephisto flipped the coin Sir Edwin gave him into the air, snatching it back as it fell towards him. The music rolling from his puppet had a certain flair of drama and element of danger to it, giving the remainder of the group more than enough to work with in terms of preparing for the worst. The devilish Fae erupted in a cruel, cackling laugh as he found a nearby patch of grass and sat down. He actually possessed the audacity to cross his legs and lounge.

“War for the warmongers!” he cheered, getting ready for a bloodbath.

“Bring out the legions of the damned, the bone dragons and flesh-things! Turn this world upside down - oh War! From the cinders and ash of yesterday, unto cinders and ash we shall return,”

He nodded his head this way and that, catching sight of the wondrous hints of lingering damnation springing up one, two, three! He appreciated the growing sense of calamity dulling every other sense he had. It sent chills up and down his spine. He drank in the atmosphere, practically already smelling the carnage.

He remembered something hilarious and chuckled once more, tilting his head towards Dione. She seemed stalwart, honest, and blunt when she needed to be. He would have admired those traits if she were just a bit more free-spirited.

“Trust me? Oh come now. By the end of this, I’m sure you’ll find that it is easier to trust me than you’d like to admit,” his cruel smirk tightened.

“But that’s for another time!”

He suddenly snapped into a standing position. He didn’t move similarly to a human, from knee to hip to spine. He straightened from a reclining stance and to his feet as if he were pure fluid under that sheet of pale skin.

“You know my name, but I don’t know yours. It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss - ?” he held his hand out, unfurling his long fingers like a fan of pointed black fingers. Upon closer inspection, the coloration had nothing to do with any form of glove.

The skin of his hands was pitch black, tipped with sharp, red nails.

Whether she refused was irrelevant. He only wanted to play his mental gymnastics for as long as possible, swirling around and giving his new friends plenty to work with. His gaze shot towards Faker, who was also among those who emerged from the bizarre mystery of the village.

He reached out with a sinister limb, his fingers curling into a certain gesture.

Without hesitating, he gave the man… a boop on his round nose!

“We’re in the middle of a game, my friend! The rules are… don’t die - and have fun!” he exclaimed with a psychotic, howling glee.

The skeleton kept playing her song, the song implanted into her dead dreams by the cruel man in front of Faker.

“I do believe, though… you’d be good at playing the bassoon!”

He laughed again. He extended his hand for Faker to grasp if he should choose to.

“If you heard my song, you know my name - so what’s yours, my friend? It certainly is a pleasure to meet you!”

 

[Voider]

Darin​

​

Equipped Titles: [Beast], [Adept Marksman], [Sentry], [Ryken Adventurer F], [Marsh Marching]

Mentions: DarkKitsune , Mephisto , Maxxob , Speed , Kris Rebel , Ersatra .​

---

While Darin could hear Mephisto's performance, he'd not given much attention to it; until the song caught up to him. "Gah!" He jerked away at Mehpisto's sudden appearance, though still not far enough to prevent the fae from laying an elbow on his head. Darin made his displeasure evident, but waited until the verse directed at him was over, having a feeling he couldn't stop it whether he wanted to or not. "Advice? What do you think I'm doing!? You..." With a frustrated growl, Darin turned away as the fae was already further into the song.

Darin's questions to Kain received no response. They were, however, answered by someone else: The woman who had spoken to Dione and him about the three horsemen. "We are in a time loop, then... and you are all long dead people?" He muttered, before addressing her fully. "Lupinvale, Malia; I will not forget these names, whether you say it will matter or not." Assuming he got out of this, Darin didn't think he'd be forgetting anything about this night anytime soon.

Just as Darin began to calm down after his initial realization, his vision blurred without warning. Instinctively, he pulled back the hammer on his musket, readying to fire at a moment's notice. Yet, when Darin's sight cleared, all that was revealed was the same, forest village, but without the activity of the festival. Then, Darin heard a scream, and a second that was far closer. Pivoting on his feet towards the closer one, he raised his musket is preparation, readied himself for whatever horror might be there, and was met with the sight of... just the fellow visitor who had stuffed his face with food at the feast. A pause, then a sigh that relieved some of his tension.

There was no time to ponder on that, though; there was another scream nearby, and they were under threat at this very moment. Hearing Dione's question and Edwin's response, Darin turned towards them to add his own comment. "Certainly the location of where a threat is." While he hadn't much chance to speak with the black knight, it was only logical to assume he would act as their primary melee fighter in potential combat; meanwhile, having caught an earlier glance of Dione's lightning, it seemed his earlier assumption of her being unarmed was false. As for Mirraine and the sword wielding Faker, Darin hoped they knew how to fight, but at least it sounded like they took this seriously. Looking over at Mephisto with a glare, the fae appeared to be doing his best to hinder them with more distractions, and a... skeleton? He shook his head to refocus; giving regard that insanity would be foolish.

As Edwin began moving to investigate, Darin decided there was no more time to waste. Looking around at everyone, he gave a nod of resolution. "Well, I'm not going to be a target in the open: I will do my best to watch and cover you all as I move. Good luck." With that said, he sprinted to a building close by, moving to put his back against the wall, musket held at the ready and eyes scanning his surroundings [1]. Darin would keep track of the others' movements, doing his best not to let anyone out of his field of view[2], and darting from cover to cover as was necessary; house to tree, tree to house, never allowing himself to remain still for long [3].

---

Spoiler: Actions

Action [1]: Used Ability [Energized Speed F]; Movement
Darin darts to cover.
Action [2]: Used Ability [Watchful Focus E]
Darin does his best to keep an eye on everything and everyone in his vicinity, looking for anything else abnormal.
Action [3]: Used Ability [Energized Speed F]; Movement
Darin darts from cover to cover.

D Grade Cooldown: 1/2
E Grade Cooldown: 0/0
F Grade Cooldown: N/A

Watchful Focus E - Energized E, Focus E, Perception E, Insight E - Darin takes the time to focus on keeping aware of his surroundings, sensing for any abnormalities or specifics within in his vicinity, as well as studying the speech and actions of those around him. - 0 Post Cooldown

Energized Speed F - Fast F, Energized F - Darin sprints a short distance, covering ground but preserving stamina. - N/A Post Cooldown

 

[Speed]

Faker

Titles: Isekai [Mundane], Human [Mundane], Attentive Student [Grade E]
Class: Striker
​

As Faker made his way toward Dione, he couldn’t help but notice the others reacting to the sudden shift in their surroundings. Some of them lingered, cautiously investigating the area, while others appeared to have more grim business to attend to. Whatever it was, Faker wasn’t particularly interested. He had his own priorities, and right now, that meant figuring out what was going on.

He waited patiently for Dione to respond, but before she could, Mephisto strolled over, his strange demeanor catching Faker’s attention. The fae had an eccentric air about him, one that Faker found peculiar - though not enough to engage with just yet. Faker watched quietly, taking in Mephisto’s appearance: tall, pale, with sharp teeth and dark eyes that had an unusual tint, almost matching the odd color of his horn-like hair. "If I didn’t know better, I’d think he’s some kind of demon," Faker mused silently, his brow furrowing slightly as he tried to make sense of the fae.

As Faker continued to observe, he was caught off guard when Mephisto suddenly tapped his nose lightly, interrupting his thoughts. "We’re in the middle of a game, my friend!" Mephisto exclaimed with an unsettling, gleeful tone. "The rules are...don’t die - and have fun!"

The sudden tap, combined with the fae's psychotic laughter, startled Faker. He instinctively took a step back, his composure momentarily faltering before he quickly corrected his stance. His grip on his blade tightened, and he raised it slightly, though he kept it close to his body, clearly annoyed. His brows furrowed deeply, eyes narrowing at the fae’s erratic behavior.

Then, as if nothing was out of the ordinary, Mephisto redirected his attention back to Faker. "If you heard my song, you know my name - so what’s yours, my friend? It certainly is a pleasure to meet you!”

Faker’s patience was wearing thin. He didn’t appreciate Mephisto’s playful, chaotic demeanor, especially given the gravity of the situation they were in. His grip on the blade tightened even more, and his voice took on a stern, no-nonsense tone.

"I do not share the same sentiments," Faker responded curtly, clearly unamused by Mephisto’s antics. His posture stiffened, and his eyes remained locked on the fae, showing that he was not in the mood for games. "Please refrain from repeating such actions."

The tension in his voice was unmistakable. He wasn’t about to let someone like Mephisto throw him off balance. Not now, not when things were already strange enough. Faker stood his ground, waiting to see how the fae would react, all the while keeping his guard up - just in case.

Interaction: Mephisto

 

[Kris Rebel]

Mirraine

Mentions: DarkKitsune Maxxob Mephisto Ersatra Voider Speed
Titles: [Mundane Fae], [Isekai]
Color: #808080
​

When Mirraine got a telepathic reply from Malia, she sighed in disappointment and released her hand. Then Mirraine spun around on her heel towards the rest of the group and yelled out: "Guys, our hosts are all dead. Soon we will meet an echo of whatever it was that killed them." - Mirraine's voice sounded oddly disinterested and disappointed, contrasting heavily with her joyous and carefree attitude earlier.

Her mind raced: "For fuck's sake, how am I going to get answers from some corpses? This stupid village is not going to get me any closer to finding a way to reunite with HIM... Though... if I can still converse with these corpses, or find some clues on what caused this mess, that could give me some insight? Maybe death loops work similar to reincarnations, some multiverse shenanigans or whatever? Ugh, I need answers." - but her thoughts came to a halt momentarily as she saw little Fiore standing next to her. Mirraine seemed to be dazed all of a sudden, the facial expression of no given fucks suddenly acquired some, made evident by a shocked stare she gave the little ghost kid. "What... Why... Why would I care... Nonono, why wouldn't I care? HE would care... But I haven't been able to care for so long... No, I can't lose myself again, come on Mirraine, you went through the insane phase a few million (billion? more?) times already, you can't lose yourself again. What makes you [you] is the only thread that connects you with HIM. HE wouldn't just dismiss a poor dead child like this, HE suffered so much himself... You gotta hold on to this." - After a short internal battle with her shattered psyche, Mirraine shook her head, collecting herself. She then kneeled next to Fiore and took her hand gently, telling her telepathically with a reassuring smile on her face: "Don't worry, little one, the nightmare will soon end." - However, the sweet moment of Mirraine getting in touch with some of her shattered humanity got to a screeching halt. Literally. A loud scream tore through the village.

Mirraine jolted onto her feet, turning around in split second, facing the direction from which the scream was heard. She felt a mix of fear and determination, a delicious cocktail that ends up simply tasting like excitement. Her lips bent into a mischievous smile, but her void-like eyes sparkled with anticipation (Hawking radiation?). Mirraine's gaze darted around the changed layout of the village, seeking some good hiding spot that would offer good visibility and proximity to a coming battlefield, but such a spot would be hard to find. But like many of the gathered folk here, her concentration was broken by yet another of Mephisto's performances.

Mirraine observed Mephisto's skeletal shenanigans with her eyes squinted, clearly not amused. She definitely tried to appreciate his art, but something just wasn't quite right. Mirraine sighed in disappointment, relaying to the jester: "Mephisto, I don't want to be /that/ person, but eh... The circus theme is getting a bit old. It would help if you tried to broaden your approach. Maybe stand-up comedy?" - She gave the performer a teasing smirk and a slight giggle before trying to refocus her attention towards more immediate concerns. Like survival.

Her gaze in the end locked with a heavily armoured, clearly well-protected and capable mounted warrior. "Oh my, feeling spicy tonight, Miri?" Mirraine ran after Edwin, with a slight skip to her step, calling out to him as she closed the distance: "Mister scary knight! Wait a moment! Uhh... I just thought you looked so mighty and... Armoured. We will likely find ourselves in battle soon enough, and I promise I am a valuable asset in combat! But it just so happens my physical form is so... fragile. Could I seek protection from such a noble warrior as you? That chestplate looks pretty spacious..." - As she addressed the knight, she struck a shy pose, but with a very slight mischievous note to it.

 

[Mephisto]

Titles:

[Fae, Mundane], Text Colors: #ffcf30, #e60606

“It's Showtime!!” - 1/1, cooldown not active

“One Hell of a Show!” - 1/1, cooldown has ended

“We Have a Deal to Make” - 1/1, cooldown not active

| DarkKitsune | Voider | Speed | Ersatra | Kris Rebel | Maxxob |
​

---

Mephisto could have cackled at their reactions to his antics. They were right in assuming he was merely instigating distraction after distraction. They were right in distrusting him. He smiled at them, his pale skin wrinkling with the grin. His unnerving gaze faded back into the gold coloration from before. He no longer had a particular song in his heart. He ruffled his hair back into its previous hue and smoothed it down. The horn-like cowlicks remained.

“Oh come now,” he chuckled as he rolled his eyes.

Of all things, he indulged in the laughter he fought back - if only for a moment. He playfully abused Darin’s height once more and tilted his lithe body in order to line up his vision from between the lizardman’s pointed cranial features. For a marksman, he certainly could afford to have a better vantage point.

“You know my name. You’re aware of me. We’ll always be acquainted,”

The words trickled from his fanged maw coldly, cruelly. There was always an inherent risk in acknowledging certain fae creatures or believing that they existed at all. He seemed to make a sinister promise then and there, that no matter where they went or what they did… he’d always be somewhere nearby.

He curled an arm around Darin’s shoulder, pinning him in place with a hug - a gesture of affection turned into an unspoken contract of omnipresent dread. Yet… he moved forward, without truly touching the lizardman again. Was it an illusion? Was it another lie? The skeleton crumbled as he walked past her, not even paying attention to the poor and unfortunate bones collapsing on themselves. He simply couldn’t care less. These fragments of consciousness were as much playthings as they were pieces in a wider scheme.

The god responsible for this world didn’t have a plan if he allowed beings like Mephisto to walk free. He could really appreciate a creator like that.

The fae devil’s smile widened as he approached Faker. The sword did little - if anything - to make him reconsider his tricks and deceptions.

“Did those pumpkins taste good? That ravenous appetite of yours is interesting, my friend. It’s a sign of a curious epicurean,” a low rumbling came from his chest.

It rattled in his ribcage, emerging as if drawn from the grumble of some derelict beast - a unique predator signaling its inevitable attack.

“They’re symbols of the departed, you know. The souls of the deceased followed them home once upon a time. That’s why children carve faces into them during this time of year - they’re meant to be caricatures of the dead,”

He leaned forward, almost daring Faker to slice his throat and indulge in the ruinous bloodletting. The strange, disturbing nature of the creature lent itself well into the malicious words he carried along through the conversation.

“I have an insatiable hunger as well, my friend,” he continued.

He glared directly into Faker. The striker would finally notice, now that Mephisto was at perfect eye-level… that he never remembered if the fae blinked. No. No, he hadn’t.

Thoughts would race throughout the festival, the various performances, and even until now - not even once.

“That, at least, we can agree on,”

He reached up… and gave Faker’s nose another playful little press before walking away.

That’s when Mirraine’s criticism, serious or not, caught his attention. His ear twitched and his neck twisted with a wet crack towards her. He stifled a muffled laugh as he adjusted the collar of his suit. The cane twirled in his hand before he caught it.

“I don’t usually take requests, but I do enjoy a good joke,” he approached her.

“A debt collector disappears and a guard tracks his last known whereabouts to a butcher’s shop. The butcher claims he doesn’t know anything and invites the guard behind the counter to investigate further. A week passes and a detective manages to find evidence against the butcher and have him arrested. The butcher’s only comment before he was beheaded was that he couldn’t sell all the meat walking through his front door fast enough! The detective goes pale and says: 'Well... I suppose it's too late to ask for a refund'!"

He earned himself a truly vile laugh. His fangs glistened in his endless smile. He found mirth in their increasingly desperate situation. He found joy in the unsettling atmosphere. There wasn't a thing that would dampen his mood as he walked away from Mirraine, distancing himself from the group as preparations for battle were made. He took his place on the stage near the back of the makeshift formation.

Until now he wrought illusions and petty, spiteful sorceries just for his own amusement. There was not the smallest hint that he could fight, even if it came down to it. He seemed perfectly content at dancing through conflict or avoiding it altogether. He may have called the others his "friends"... but they were right to keep their trust far from him. His reach, however, was deceptively long. He watched them move and shamble into place, pieces crawling along a chessboard.

He could almost see the colors on the ground.

"Stay clear of the butcher's cleaver, my friends. It is always closer than you realize."

 

[Maxxob]

Sir Edwin Stormcrest?

​

Titles
[Human - Mundane], [Noble Ryke Baronet] C, [Apprentice Lancer], Knight [Educated] Color - #0E0101

DarkKitsune Voider Mephisto Kris Rebel Ersatra Speed

The baronet's heavy steps came to a gradual halt as the sound of a feminine voice reached him, calling out with a mix of playful boldness and deference. ‘Mister scary knight,’ she had called him. The knight’s armored form shifted, the pitch-black helm tilting slightly as he turned to face the source. The narrow eye-slits of the horned helmet bore down on the black-haired woman with an unrelenting, abyssal gaze, though she stood undeterred, her light skip hinting at a playful intent beneath the surface.

Her words stroked his pride. ‘Mighty and armoured’ - yes, she had the right idea, recognizing the power she stood before. Edwin allowed her to continue, while his peripheral vision barely registered the retreating forms of Darin and the macabre movements of Mephisto’s skeletal puppet. He cared little for them at the moment. His focus was on this bold woman - Mirraine, was it? - and her intriguing request. It amused him.

“Hmm,” the baronet hummed lowly, a deep vibration from within his armor. Her appeal was not without merit. Edwin pondered, his dark thoughts calculating the advantage of such an arrangement. She had offered herself as an asset in combat, fragile though she might be. In truth, such frailty amused him - what greater proof of his superiority, after all? Still, she might serve her purpose.

A slow decision formed. With calculated movements, his left arm crossed in front of his body, reaching for the clasps of his chest plate. Each motion was deliberate, almost ceremonial. One by one, the metal mechanisms clicked, echoing in the quiet air. Each sound was a mark of control - his control - over the moment.

The final clasp unlatched, and with a sharp hiss of air, the front of his armor opened. What lay beneath was not just empty space, but the crimson bodysuit that clung to his form. The rich fabric highlighted the contours of his strong physique, muscles that seemed almost unnatural in their perfection. This was no ordinary knight; his body had been shaped, enhanced, by forces darker than mere training.

His unseen eyes narrowed as he considered her, though a smirk formed beneath his helmet. “Very well,” he intoned, his voice a low, almost mocking rumble. “It may be a tight fit, but I’m sure you’ll manage. After all, you asked for it.” His free hand gestured toward the open space. “Climb in, if you dare.”

He stood still, awaiting her decision, his darkened form towering over her. The shadows of his presence seemed to stretch longer, as though the very air around him bowed to his will. Once she had either accepted or rejected his offer, Edwin would seal the armor once more, the clasps locking back into place with a final, decisive click.

 

[Speed]

Faker

Titles: Isekai [Mundane], Human [Mundane], Attentive Student [Grade E]
Class: Striker
​

Though Mirraine had shouted something about the villagers being dead, Faker couldn’t properly react with Mephisto right in front of him, still pushing his limits. Despite the clear threat Faker posed with his hand firmly gripping his blade, the fae continued his antics, unfazed. Mephisto's incessant prodding made Faker shoot him a glare that could cut through steel.

"Just ignore him," Faker thought, trying to remain composed. Mephisto's words buzzed around him like an annoying fly, but Faker held his tongue. The fae even had the audacity to provoke him, daring him to take a swing, but Faker knew better. "He's not worth it."

Mephisto drew closer, leaning in until they were at eye level. The fae pressed a finger to Faker's nose again, and Faker’s grip tightened instinctively, but still, he didn’t react. His eyes tracked Mephisto's every move, but his body stayed still, his face impassive except for the remnants of food that slowly fell off his cheeks. It wasn’t until Mephisto finally shifted interest and turned his attention elsewhere that Faker allowed himself to relax.

With Mephisto no longer in his face, Faker exhaled slowly. He sheathed his blade with a flourish, making sure the motion was stylish. "Gotta keep up appearances," he thought wryly, especially since his earlier threat hadn’t exactly gone the way he wanted. With his hand resting atop the pommel, he turned back to Dione, a slight nod of apology for the brief encounter with Mephisto.

"Sorry about that distraction," he said, his tone shifting back to a more serious one. "But... you heard it too, right? She said everyone’s dead?" His brow furrowed as he tried to piece things together. "Was this all some sort of trick? A ploy?"

Faker’s gaze lingered on Dione, awaiting her response, the situation now far more troubling than a simple festival. The fae's antics were one thing, but the possibility that they were surrounded by the dead? That was something else entirely.

Interaction: Ersatra

 

[Ersatra]

Dione Galanis


Dione's eyes flickered toward Faker as he approached, sword in hand and crumbs still clinging to his face from the feast. The contrast between his almost comical appearance and the tense, eerie atmosphere wasn’t lost on her. For a brief moment, amidst the growing darkness and the suffocating weight of this cursed village, she allowed herself a small, amused huff at his arrival—especially after hearing that scream.

But her amusement was short-lived, her mind too focused on the shifting reality around them. The village, the people, even the night itself, all felt like a twisted performance on an endless loop. Faker’s question cut through her thoughts, and Dione considered him carefully. Care to share your thoughts?
Before she could respond to Faker’s question Mephisto's presence suddenly slithered into the conversation like an uninvited serpent. Her first instinct was to dismiss him entirely, to brush off his theatrics and focus on the real threat looming over this place. But the sinister aura around him was undeniable, and something told her that ignoring Mephisto would be unwise.

As he held out his blackened hand, his long fingers tipped with sharp, red nails, Dione stared at him, her eyes narrowing slightly. What is he playing at? There was something off about him—besides the fact that he clearly thrived on unsettling others.

"Names have power, And you, Mephisto, are already more familiar with us than I’d like." she said, her voice steady but charged with quiet intensity.

Dione’s gaze softened slightly as she turned her attention back to Faker, her earlier intensity fading but not disappearing completely. She was still calculating, still cautious.

"Yes, I heard it," she replied, her voice low but clear, a certain weight behind her words. "And it wasn’t a trick—at least not the kind that comes from sleight of hand or illusions. Something’s deeply wrong here. The villagers, the festival… none of it feels real anymore. Like we’ve stepped into a memory, or worse, a trap."

Her eyes narrowed as she glanced around, taking in the eerily quiet surroundings. "If what that girl said is true, then we’re not just dealing with spirits of the dead. We’re stuck in some kind of loop, and it’s not by accident. Someone—or something—is pulling the strings, keeping everything frozen in place."

Dione paused, her expression unreadable for a moment. "But this? This isn't how the dead rest. This feels... manipulated." Her eyes flickered with a hint of the power she kept in check. "Whatever force is behind this, it’s strong enough to bend time. And if we don’t figure out who’s responsible, we might be the next ones trapped here—permanently."

She turned back to Faker, her expression serious. "Stay sharp. Trust won’t get us far here, but clarity might."
Speed Mephisto​

 

[DarkKitsune]

“The beginning of the phase I call ‘Discovery’ Doran has found the bodies.”

Malia replied to Dione, Before expanding information.

“Three people died that night. Kain, Ace, and Hazel. Now if you’ll excuse me this sequence of events is a lot stricter than the festival I have to go play my role.”

She turned to Edwin.

“Not a race against Meldaron, there are 3 horsemen but 4 figures. He’d the fourth figure the one who’s supposed to guide the dead away..maybe he’s the cause of this maybe he isn’t. I don’t think so given the stories behind him and what he’s known for I’d imagine this is quite disruptive to the very cycle he safeguards.”

Malia looks at Darin.

“Thanks for respecting the dead, hopefully, you and your group don’t end up stuck here even if you did make it to repeat the cycle…I think you’d go insane.”

She added pointing at Edwin.

“Especially you, whether you like it or not you have no power here and it cannot be helped.”

Mephisto’s performance did not get any attention from the villagers besides Fiore and Malia. Fiore who had long grown desensitized to disturbing things like corpses and Malia who was simply unamused.

Darin’s Watchful Focus would allow him to note a shadowy creature in the forest if only for a split second, another thing he would be able to notice while Mirraine was conversing with Edwin was Malia telling Fiore to go ‘play with her friends’ and the fox child’s reluctant body language before running over to the group of kids who had been stuck in place now moving around. Fiore tripped one of the other kids held a hand out for her while the other one had been alerted by the scream. Malia would talk to some adults before going with them presumably to investigate the scene. He would also notice a sheer purple border around the village.
—
Mephisto Voider Maxxob Speed Kris Rebel Ersatra
​

 

[Kris Rebel]

Mirraine

Mentions: DarkKitsune Maxxob Mephisto
Titles: [Mundane Fae], [Isekai]
Color: #808080
​

Mirraine blinked a few times, staring at Mephisto after he graced her with a morbid joke to spice up his usual clownage. A few seconds passed as she stared at him blankly, before exploding into guttural laughter. "Hahahaha, ohh hohoh... Phew... Alright, that did it, great job. I haven't heard such a bad joke in a very long time, thank you kindly kind jester. Truly a man of many comedic talents! You should definitely make money off of this." - Recollecting herself, Mirraine gave Mephisto a wink as she turned around to chase after Edwin.

Edwin's consent to Mirraine's utterly absurd proposal caught her off guard. She tried her best to hold off her laughter and remain at least somewhat composed as he undid his chestplate and invited her in. "Okay, scratch any doubts, this night IS going to be fun. I can finally become a mech pilot!" - she thought as a wide grin cracked across her face. Accepting that this is indeed happening, Mirraine bowed to Edwin in a courteous ladylike manner and said: "Thank you kindly, good ser knight! Let us combine our might into an unstoppable time-defying force!"

Unable to hide her excitement, Mirraine hurried towards Edwin, gently placing herself in front of him. She pressed her back tightly against his chest and closed the chestplate with both of them inside. Edwin would feel that Mirraine's body temperature is way lower than one would expect. Not quite as cold as a corpse, but definitely not as warm as an average human or fae should be. The position was, to say the least, awkward. Barely fitting, two bodies now shared the same torso, with four legs, four arms and two heads - one in a black spooky helmet, and another one of a chalk-pale grinning woman, clearly enjoying herself way too much. "Ah if I had a few more of those jungle juices, it could almost feel like I am sharing a body with someone once again. How lovely that would be." - thought Mirraine as her mind drifted a bit into sweet nostalgia as she tried to get comfortable.

"Hope you are comfy, hehe! I will let you take the wheel, I will just be your second brain. So, as you might have guessed, my strong suit is invading people's personal space. Mostly in the form of violating their minds, but sometimes getting a bit more physical can be fun too, hehe. Once I get someone under my charms I do get a bit soggy and useless, so I will trust you, your horse and your armour to do the protecting and moving around. So when the bane of this village arrives, feel free to issue commands to your co-pilot and I will relay them to whoever I get to puppet. As thanks, I can offer psychotherapy afterwards, I am pretty good with it, promise!" - Mirraine said quietly, almost whispering, as her face was quite literally rubbing against Edwin's ear. There was clearly a lot of excitement in her voice, Mirraine was enjoying herself maybe a bit too much.

 

[Maxxob]

Sir Edwin Stormcrest?
View attachment 1186654
​

Titles
[Human - Mundane], [Noble Ryke Baronet] C, [Apprentice Lancer], Knight [Educated] Color - #0E0101

DarkKitsune Kris Rebel

The dark knight snarled at Malia’s declaration of his supposed powerlessness. The very notion was intolerable - a thought he refused to let take root. “We will see about that,” he growled, his grip tightening around his three-pronged lance. His attention then shifted to Mirraine, the pale, dark-haired girl with the strange request.

As she approached and bowed, his vanity swelled. Her deference pleased him, feeding his ego as the dark eye sockets of his helmet watched her every movement with a silent, unyielding intensity. He remained still as she climbed inside his armor, disappearing from view as she settled against him.

The coldness radiating from her back pressed firmly against his chest, creating a striking contrast with the intense heat emanating from his own body. It was an unsettling juxtaposition - refreshing, in its own perverse way.

“I’m plenty comfortable with this arrangement,” he murmured, his voice dripping with dark amusement. “So, you violate minds?” A grin tugged at the corners of his lips beneath the helm. The idea of broken minds was nearly as thrilling as broken bodies - both equally satisfying. “Very well, you shall enjoy the protection of Baronet Stormcrest, my protection, while our agreement stands. Together…” His gauntleted hand clenched into a fist, the metal creaking under the pressure. “We shall crush whatever feeble-minded, weak-bodied vermin dares cross our path.”

A sharp whistle cut through the air, summoning his warhorse. He felt Mirraine’s cool breath against his ear and skin, as well as proximity, but showed no discomfort. As the horse approached, Edwin mounted swiftly, bringing both himself and his new passenger atop the beast in a smooth motion. “Psychotherapy, hmm?” he mused. “Some doors are best left locked and barred. But if you dare…”

He left the words hanging, spurring the horse forward into a gallop toward the commotion, his dark presence leading the way.

 

[Mephisto]

Titles:

[Fae, Mundane], Text Colors: #ffcf30, #e60606

“It's Showtime!!” - 1/1, cooldown not active

“One Hell of a Show!” - 1/1, cooldown not active

“We Have a Deal to Make” - 1/1, cooldown not active

| DarkKitsune | Voider | Speed | Ersatra | Kris Rebel | Maxxob |​

---

For the first time, something unthinkable happened. As the others drew their personal battle lines, finding the investigation turning into a swirling torrent of dead whispers and the groaning solicitations of foreboding doom… Mephisto himself had nothing to say. That is, he had plenty to say… but no one to say it to. The others seemed to grow distant and aloof, wise to his antics. Yet this would be the time to draw them back in. The stage fell silent and its players retired to the dressing rooms. No crowd gathered in the seats. No lights flickered on. The curtains shuddered back into place once their bindings were unfurled.

The faintest aroma of smoke filled the air. Candles were snuffed out long before their time. Trace notes of laughter, and of course music, would emerge from the nothingness and fade away before they were fully understood. They were forever here among both the dead and the living, neither flesh nor spirit. Perhaps they were merely more of Mephisto’s illusions, perhaps they were drawn to the vortex of nightmarish delight by his other distinct conjurations. None could say. Mephisto did not want to spoil the surprise.

After all, they were here for a reason. Though they chose to go about their own paths, the group coagulated here in short order to experience something grand… something not even the strange Fae anomaly could muster - not yet at least.

He made no secret of his fascination as he stared into the haunting abyss. The darks of his eyes illuminated his golden pupils, every color therein reflecting the alluring lavender light deeper into his consciousness. It reeked of precisely what he loved about this world. It pulsated as if it were alive, convulsed like fresh meat still wriggling with impulsive movement. Yet for all intents and purposes it meant death. Whether it would be responsible or merely the only witness to their independent demises remained to be seen. The silence of the shapeless void struck him as the most curious.

He wanted to read it. He wanted to know its deepest thoughts and secrets. He had nothing in common with the others, yet for some reason he couldn’t help but feel that they didn’t share in his indulgences. They were scrambling for answers. Some of these mysteries would simply never be solved. Mephisto took his place as an audience member for this escalating tragedy.

It unfolded much like a dramatic play with everyone embodying their roles adequately. The overwhelming manifestation of brute force, armored from the crown of his head to the hooves of his steed, took to the field eager to prove himself to the eyes that were upon him. Would Mephisto answer the charge? Would he fight alongside his new compatriots? He stood back, occupying the same tile on the chessboard he took for himself following his most recent vocalization.

Though he was indeed curious about most things, he would never bring himself to go and face them with swords and weapons drawn. His was a longer process than even the eternity of warfare. He waited and observed as best he could, soaking in the information required to unravel certain mysteries and keep others locked away for others to find.

“Fascinating,” he finally remarked. “More noise to draw the hunters into the noose,”

There was a slight chuckle as he twirled his cane. His long strides were quick and seemed natural, yet for all his attempts at appearances he still almost glided across the wilting grass.

He spoke to everyone and no one, perhaps lost deeper into thought than he intended. The eyes judging him and the lips parting to impede him with silent protests were all mentally brushed aside. He had no qualms about exploring the depths of horror kept away from him by circumstance and the bravado of dead gods. He wanted more, craved more.

He grew desensitized to such things long ago, before he even arrived here - before his very rebirth. In his youth he'd have hesitated. The smell of rancid flesh sent him into a dizzying spiral. It replaced the air in his lungs and he couldn't feel anything else. That was a long time ago. He felt nothing other than the fascination of oblivion - true death. Yet he'd always see familiar faces, hear familiar voices. It didn't matter.

In this world not even the grave held consequence.

 

[Voider]

Darin​

​

Equipped Titles: [Beast], [Adept Marksman], [Sentry], [Ryken Adventurer F], [Marsh Marching]

Mentions: DarkKitsune , Mephisto , Maxxob , Speed , Kris Rebel , Ersatra .​

---

Darin gave a nod to Malia's response. He very much did not want to go insane, which only ensured his conviction to get out of this.

...

As Darin watched, always moving, he noticed multiple worrying things. With them all in this together, whether he liked it or not, Darin yelled out to the others. "We've got something further in the woods, so keep watch! Don't stray too far either, there appears to be some barrier around the village!" He wasn't sure what is was exactly, but given the circumstances, he assumed it to be a bad sign.

Taking a look at the others, Darin could see the knight riding forward, with... Mirraine in his armor? That was... odd, to say the least. Yet, they were clearly heading towards the origin of the scream. Deciding to keep pace with them to provide fire support if needed, Darin continued his constant positioning, following them from the sidelines and between points of cover [1 & 2]. Stopping behind a particularly large tree, he took a moment to draw out the bayonet and secure it to his musket, looking around to keep track of the situation [3].

---

Spoiler: Actions

Action [1]: Used Ability [Energized Speed F]; Movement
Darin darts to cover, again.
Action [2]: Used Ability [Energized Speed F]; Movement
I think you get it by now.
Action [3]: Used Ability [Watchful Focus E]
Darin keeps watch as he brings out his bayonet.

D Grade Cooldown: 2/2
E Grade Cooldown: 0/0
F Grade Cooldown: N/A

Watchful Focus E - Energized E, Focus E, Perception E, Insight E - Darin takes the time to focus on keeping aware of his surroundings, sensing for any abnormalities or specifics within in his vicinity, as well as studying the speech and actions of those around him. - 0 Post Cooldown

Energized Speed F - Fast F, Energized F - Darin sprints a short distance, covering ground but preserving stamina. - N/A Post Cooldown

 

[Ersatra]

Dione Galanis


Dione’s eyes tracked Malia as she spoke, absorbing every detail. The mention of "Discovery" and the bodies sent a chill down her spine, but it was the strictness of this sequence, the fact they were locked in a loop that disturbed her most. She caught sight of the purple border around the village, her thoughts racing.

She glanced at Faker, then at the others—Darin, Edwin, even the fox child, Fiore, who now played her part in this twisted re-enactment. The strange stillness in the air, the suffocating sense of inevitability, it all pressed down on her. They were being watched, guided even, by forces they couldn’t fully grasp yet.

Malia’s parting words struck her. Three had died. Kain, Ace, and Hazel. But it wasn’t just their deaths that seemed important; it was what came after. Malia’s cryptic warning to Edwin, that he had no power here, unsettled her even more. If someone like him, with all his arrogance and strength, was powerless in this place, what did that mean for the rest of them?

Dione's expression hardened. "We’re walking through a nightmare that never ends," she murmured to herself. "A memory on repeat."

Turning to Faker, her eyes sharp now, she spoke. "We need to find out more. The bodies, the deaths—that’s the key. If we can figure out why this place is trapped in time, we might have a chance of breaking out of this cycle."

She hesitated, then added, "But be careful. Whatever’s keeping them here... it doesn’t want to let go. And we might just be the next pieces on its board."​

 

[DarkKitsune]

As the party investigated the bodies their eyes gazed upon three corpses, namely Kain the Timberwolf beast who had seemingly been a leader of sorts to the village, the other two were an elderly human man with grayed hair and an adult woman with braided brown hair, their eyes were all closed with sunken in features. There was a line of liquid that seemed black upon closer inspection would reveal it was dried blood. There were black patches over their bodies for the two humans it was easiest to notice these patches on the tips of their fingers. The party would witness as their bodies were moved in a flax sheet as the pressure the group was experiencing became worse the intense feeling palpable as it grew stronger and rolled over the village seemingly clouding the area in an atmosphere of haze a feeling of despair wafting over everyone in the room like a blanket causing temporary disorientation, Malia herself seemed winded the other villagers in the room did not. What happened next was flashes that would appear in the eyes of the conscious and the self-aware akin to a flashback in a movie, once second their view was gray witnessing cremation, hearing wallow cries that blurred into each other one moment with bodies in their views next moment standing still in the same place, only it was just them and Malia recovering from the experience the blonde shook her head.

“That phase is always the quickest…and the most insufferable.”

She mentioned forcibly gagging that came off more as a few moments of dry heaving, she shook her head again. The sky remained dark as the glass in the hut appeared to be shattered, and the house itself where the bodies were found seemed to be in ruin with rotting wood, growing vines, and signs of lack of maintenance.

“Welcome to the attack phase, now I got to go hunt down Fiore and get murdered in the process. I hate dying”

She said before darting out of the hunt at the sound of perfectly timed screams. An arrow originally meant for Fiore hit Malia and the woman fell to the floor bleeding out and gave Fiore an odd-looking knife with a curved blade and mysterious markings before bleeding out into a lifeless slump. Darin would be able to take note of a black horse similar to Edwin’s and its burnt wolf rider roaming around the village as a barrage of arrows attacked the villagers some on fire some not. Fiore first ran for cover…

Edwin and Mirraine would feel helplessly hungry, the feeling of starvation gnawing at both of their stomachs without proper resistance it may render them no better than the villagers outside attacking them as the elderly-looking man rode the white horse around the village. The white horsemen were in their view.

The second black horse roamed around the village seemingly not attacking just yet, a black carriage that glowed in silver. Darin would see the creatures in the woods once more.

Spoiler: Tldr/ADVANCED RULES RUN DOWN

Tdlr: Malia dies, Mirraine and Edwin get hit with a hunger spell Darin notices things, Darin, Mephisto, Dione and Faker are the only ones not attacked.

Advanced rules basics:

Post once per round and list your actions at the bottom of the post each post is limited to three actions so make them count!

Effectiveness is determined by stats skills and abilites. Here is a effectiveness table for calculations:

F =1
E =2
D = 3
C = 4
B = 5
A = 6

Effectiveness is counted by weapon + stat assiocated with weapon/ability + ability. Example:

D grade catalyst + C grade intelligence + example ability D =10

Reminder that cooldowns should be kept track of.

Asking questions is encouraged! If you don’t understand something feel free to shoot a DM

I will be using these rules loosely. Improvised attacks are allowed

For Maxxob and Kris Rebel:
Edwin and Mirraine are under a hunger spell, 1 action needs to be spent in order to resist it. (This isn’t an advanced rule just a narrators discretion mechanic)

—
Maxxob Kris Rebel Voider Ersatra Speed Mephisto

 

[Maxxob]

Sir Edwin Stormcrest?

​

Titles
[Human - Mundane], [Noble Ryke Baronet] C, [Apprentice Lancer], Knight [Educated] Color - #0E0101

DarkKitsune Kris Rebel

Edwin urged his horse forward, galloping swiftly toward the house where the scream had originated. He pulled the reins sharply at the entrance, bringing the destrier to a halt. Unable to enter the house while mounted, the dark knight dismounted with a heavy thud, his steps now even weightier with the addition of Mirraine inside his armor.

As he entered the house, he shoved aside any of the 'puppet villagers' who dared obstruct his path, clearing his way to the three bodies lying before him. His azure eyes narrowed beneath his helmet, the abyss-like eyeholes of his helm fixating on Kain's lifeless form. “Hah! I should have stabbed the fool when I had the chance! It would have made for a more entertaining death than this - keeling over to some unknown cause." His cold tone oozed with distaste at the trio's unremarkable end.

Using the blunt end of his three-pronged lance, he prodded the bodies, examining the black patches on them with a growing sneer. "Do you have any idea what these might be?" he asked Mirraine, his voice laced with irritation. "Poison, perhaps?" The very notion disgusted him. Poison was the weapon of the weak, a coward’s tool, and his lip curled at the thought.

In the next moment, his attention snapped to Malia, noticing her discomfort. “Quick, Mirraine! Control her mind!” His command was sharp and without hesitation, though it was too late—Malia had already darted outside, vanishing from view. “Tch.” He clicked his tongue in displeasure. There was no reason to linger in the house any longer.

Edwin stepped back outside, mounting his horse once more. His gaze swept over the surroundings until it locked onto a figure—a man, old and frail, riding a white horse in the distance. But before he could act, a sharp pain stabbed at his stomach. Hunger gnawed at him, twisting like an unseen dagger. A low growl escaped him. Even the mightiest could be felled by hunger, sharper than any blade. Edwin clenched his teeth, turning the pain into anger, his dark thoughts targeting the old man.

"The bastard is trying to starve me, huh?" His teeth ground audibly, rage boiling over as his fingers tightened around the lance. “Mirraine, be ready to make that fool your puppet,” he growled, leaving no room for hesitation. With a swift kick to the destrier's side, the horse lunged into a violent gallop, charging toward the elderly rider.

Edwin’s lance crackled with electricity as he drew near, its three-pronged tip aimed initially at the man. But in a last-second shift, he redirected the weapon’s point toward the white horse, ready to strike with full force.

Actions:
1 - Resisted against the hunger spell
2 - Charged towards the white-horse rider
3 - Attacked the white-horse with: Thunderous Lance Impale E - Fighting Style [Lance] E, Technique Core Blight [Lightning] F, Technique Core Continuing [Electrified] F - Grade E Cooldown 1 - Sir Edwin thrusts and impales his lance deeply into the target, delivering both lightning damage on contract, as well as electrifying them, further dealing more lightning damage. Can also be used on horseback -> 9 BE + 1 Damage from Blight + 1 Damage from Continuing

CD:
E - 0/1

 

[Mephisto]

Titles: [Fae, Mundane]

Text Colors: #ffcf30, #e60606

“It's Showtime!!” - 0/1, activated this round!

“One Hell of a Show!” - 1/1, cooldown not active

“We Have a Deal to Make” - 1/1, cooldown not active

| DarkKitsune | Voider | Speed | Ersatra | Kris Rebel | Maxxob |
​

---

Mephisto stopped in his attempted pursuit of Sir Edwin. He stood in place for a moment, his body heaving with motion. Sounds emerged from his chest that were not meant to be from any human being - reincarnated or otherwise. Guttural noises burst in the heinous mockery of animals, chittering things that swallowed flesh mound after heaping mound. He threw his head back... and laughed. The familiar sound of his cackling - too familiar now for those who were unfortunate enough to remember it - echoed for a good distance, his entire diaphragm given to the gesture of joyous contentment.

"Oh..." he paused at length.

He continued to snicker and chortle until he coughed into his wrist, trying to slow down the progression of vicious laughter. The Fae creature snorted and sighed.

"This is hilarious~!"

He threw his hands to either side, glaring at the charcoal-black wolf rider responsible for showering the village with arrows. They were cut from similar cloth, funnily enough - they were similarly enamored by death! Mephisto twirled his cane, stamping it into the ground and challenging the rider without words. He allowed the plague of music to contend with whatever the wolf rider possessed - be it an apocalypse of decay or sorrow. The telltale rumble of distant long-lost audience members trembled from beyond the veil. This would be no mere marathon of sights and sounds, but a terrific avalanche of sensory overload.

"I meet new friends, they get attacked by the harbingers of Armageddon, and I feel - completely at ease by that!"

He chuckled again, the stage emerging from the ground in vicious crackling anarchy. Scores of hands clapped in tumultuous unison. Mephisto stood alone against the pale rider, tilting his head as he ensnared the creature in one of his showcased abilities.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he flipped his cane in the air, causing it to vanish.

He twisted his lithe body and swept his hair back. The golden curls crowning his head began to bleed into a most sinister scarlet from his touch. His rictus grin stretched from ear to ear.

"IT'S SHOWTIME!!"

Though they were merely part of his grand illusions, the sonorous outburst had a definitive impact - just not in the expected sense of the word. The ground under Mephisto's feet and for 15 feet in any direction shifted and transformed into part of a stage. Wherever he stepped, so too did the scenery change.

It seemed as if a stage light were following him, illuminating the larger parts of the illusion still locked behind his relative inexperience. He caught whatever he could in the radius of his ability regardless of if they were friend or foe. Ghostly raiders sent from beyond to repeat their crimes were given a dramatic musical swell as they cut down innocent men, women, and children.

“Dance, you sinners!” Mephisto commanded with a laugh, making his way to the nearest figure of circumstance - that being the charcoal-black wolf and its rider.

This showed the true nature of Mephisto's cruelty. When arrows fell towards him, he pulled the bodies of both killers and victims and danced with them into the path of the projectiles. They fell from his hands similarly to each other, so limp and cold. Yet they danced all the same to the sound of Mephisto's song.

He closed the distance relatively quickly this way, leaving a path of devastation behind him. He tilted his head with a sinister grin crossing his face.

The music continued. He held out a hand towards the wolf rider.

“Care to dance… my friend~?”

---

Actions 3/3:

1. Activated "It's Showtime!!"
2. Closed the distance to wolf rider by dancing from meat shield to meat shield
3. Attempted to CC his part of the fight

 

[Voider]

Darin​

​

Equipped Titles: [Beast], [Adept Marksman], [Sentry], [Ryken Adventurer F], [Marsh Marching]

Mentions: DarkKitsune​

---

Darin looked around the tree he was standing at, just is time to see a flurry of arrows fly through the air, prompting him to duck behind it once again. Glancing around, he attempted to take stock of the situation, mapping out the engagement in his mind.

The knight and Mirraine left out of the nearby hut, appearing to encounter one of the horsemen; a white one, with an old looking man. That was one of three. In the other direction, Darin could make out Mephisto doing... well, being Mephisto, advancing to distract the rider firing arrows; well, at least he was helping them... sort of. That was two of three. Further away, the third rider could be seen, with some kind of carriage; a reserve force, better taken out now...

However, as Darin raised his musket with intent, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. A quick look would show it to be the creature he spotted earlier, still deeper in the woods and past the odd barrier. Surely, this was also a threat? Yet, he would have to focus on one of them to take down, choosing between the confirmed enemy or the unknown but highly suspicious creature. Darin would have to make a guess on which was the possibly bigger danger.

Making a decision, Darin resumed his movements, finished raising his musket, and took aim at the target. He held in his breath, steadying his posture, and pulled back the flintlock hammer. Then, with a pull of his index claw-

CRACK!​

-a lead ball was sent speeding through the air, carrying the kinetic force of a small explosion with it, right towards the shadowy figure beyond the purple barrier [1].

Darin would not take the chance that this would be enough, though, not at all. Loading in another filling of gunpowder and sphere of lead, he wasted no time in following up his first shot with a second, and then a third [2 & 3]. He was taking a chance, a risky one indeed as the others fought their immediate foes; but the paranoid side of him felt that whatever was past that barrier was more than it might have appeared. Darin only hoped that his feeling was right.

---

Spoiler: Actions

Action [1]: Attack - Used Ability [Precise Shot D] - (C Precision, D Weapon, D Ability)
Darin takes aim at the unknown creature, and fires a carefully prepared shot at it.
Action [2]: Basic Attack - Combo
Darin reloads and follows up with a second shot.
Action [3]: Basic Attack - Combo
Darin reloads and follows up with a third shot.

D Grade Cooldown: 0/2

Precise Shot D - Constant Positioning [Gun] D, Range D, Accurate D, Steady Hands D, Focus E - With steadied hands and concentrated focus, Darin swiftly fires a projectile with high precision at the intended point of contact if said point is [100ft] or less away; in the case that the intended point of contact is on (or is) a moving target, act as if the target's movement grade was reduced by [3]. - 2 Post Cooldown

 

[Ersatra]

Dione Galanis


Dione's heart pounded in her chest as the scene unravelled before her. The bodies of the dead—Kain, the elder man, and the woman—left a heavy weight in the air, but it was the suffocating sense of despair that truly gripped her. The pressure in the room was like a wave crashing over them all, disorienting and thick with the feeling of inevitable doom. It took everything in her not to succumb to the gnawing dread.

When Malia spoke, Dione could barely comprehend it at first, her mind still spinning from the flashes of death and fire. But the phrase "the attack phase" snapped her into focus. Malia’s words echoed in her mind, "I hate dying." Dione watched in horror as Malia dashed out, only to be struck down by an arrow meant for the fox-child, Fiore.

Dione’s eyes widened as Malia handed Fiore the strange curved blade before succumbing to her wounds. The scream that followed tore through the village, and Dione’s instincts kicked in. She spotted Fiore darting for cover, the child’s small figure desperately trying to escape the chaos.

Without a second thought, Dione sprinted after Fiore, her boots thudding against the rotting wooden floor of the hut. "Fiore!" she called out, her voice cutting through the cacophony of screams and arrows. She had to protect the child—something deep in her gut told her that Fiore was important, perhaps the key to ending this terrible cycle.

'If I can keep her alive,' Dione thought as she pushed through the haze of panic, 'maybe we can break this loop.'

Her lightning powers sparked at her fingertips, but she quickly clenched her fists, forcing herself to hold back. She couldn’t risk drawing too much attention to herself or Fiore. Lightning was a last resort, not something to be used recklessly. For now, her focus had to be on keeping Fiore safe.

Dione’s eyes scanned the area as she followed behind the child, moving swiftly but cautiously, staying low to avoid the barrage of arrows.

"Stay low, Fiore! Keep moving!" Dione urged, her voice urgent but steady. She caught up to the child, placing herself between Fiore and the barrage of arrows that still threatened to rain down upon them. She could feel the heat of the fiery arrows, the smell of burning wood and flesh filling the air.

DarkKitsune

Actions:
1. Movement to Fiore
2. Defend Fiore - Magic f. - Using trace amounts of magic Dione aims to protect her charge from the incoming arrows. (Int D, Item E, Skill F)​

 

[Kris Rebel]

Mirraine

Mentions: DarkKitsune Maxxob Ersatra
Titles: [Mundane Fae], [Isekai]
Color: #808080
​

Mirraine smirked when Edwin proclaimed their alliance in such a pompous fashion, ending it with a rather grim and violent remark. "Oh my, with determination and ferocity such as yours, no vermin will be able to stand before us indeed, Baronet Stormcrest." - She replied in a smug but impressed tone. Even though the knight's pomp and apparent love for violence and domination was not so much shared by Mirraine, she did appreciate a determined and powerful person.

Feeling the rush of the horse's gallop, just hanging helplessly inside Edwin's armor, Mirraine grinned from ear to ear. "Okay, this is definitely going to be A LOT of fun!" - She thought, giving into the excitement and the rush. When they approached a house that was the source of the scream, Edwin jumped off the horse with Mirraine's limbs just flapping around as he moved with clear determination to his step. Being much taller than Mirraine, she had no control of the movement, essentially just hanging around on his chest. The familiar feeling of just being along for the ride made her feel even more nostalgic.

The corpses inside the house interrupted Mirraine's musings over her cosy disposition. Edwin made yet another cruel remark about one of the dead villagers, making Mirraine chuckle. "Gosh, how much edgier this dark knight can be?" - went through her head as she observed the bodies. There were odd dark spots over the wounds on the bodies, which Mirraine would try to identify with the knowledge she received upon reincarnating into this world (Mirraine uses Appraisal F to attempt to recognize the source of the dark marks).

However, Mirraine's attention would be overtaken by Malia, who seemed to get into what she called the "action phase". "Hunt down Fiora? What is she... That bitch!" - As Mirraine grabbed her tape player to use it on Malia, she was already gone, running outside. "Ser knight, chivalry calls us!" - Mirraine cried out in frustration, urging Edwin to hurry outside.

Luckily, Edwin stayed true to his efficient outlook, losing no time inside and rushing back onto his steed. Mirraine frantically looked around to assess the situation, seeing that the fight truly has begun. Mephisto grabbed her attention first, as his idea of fighting was certainly quite catchy, suiting him very well. But the one Mirraine was concerned most about was Fiore. She saw Malia running towards her, just to be hit by a stray arrow that seemed meant for the little girl. Fiore herself appeared to get a capable protector in Dione, which made Mirraine sigh in relief. "Dione! Don't let little Fiore get hurt, or I will force you to feel like you are at an exam with your pants missing for all eternity!" - Mirraine yelled out, in a serious and commanding tone, making sure that even silly-sounding, the threat would hold weight.

However, that distraction was not without downsides, as Mirraine felt magic penetrating the plate she and Edwin shared, making her intestines crawl. The sudden stomach implosion made her grasp at her mouth, inducing a vomiting sensation, even if nothing came out. Holding her hand at her mouth, Mirraine momentarily closed her eyes and concentrated on fighting this painful feeling. Taking a deep breath through her nose, she managed to fight off this feeling of sudden starvation and concentrate on Edwin's words.

The knight already identified the assailant as a frail man riding a white horse. Must be a spellcaster of some kind. Growing a mischievous grin at Edwin's command as he charged the witch, Mirraine snarkily replied to him: "Don't you worry darling, he's mine". Way before Edwin's lance would make contact with the old man's horse, Mirraine quickly put one headphone into her ear and pressed "play" on her player. Then her mouth let out unusually deep and otherwordly-sounding words: "ASSUMING DIRECT CONTROL"

The feeble-looking man on a white horse would be assailed with Intrusive Thoughts popping into his head, chanting with Mirraine's voice, forcing him to obey: "We are your friends. Reverse the hunger spell on us and protect the village. Destroy the archers that attack us. They are your real enemy."

---

Actions:
1. Using Appraisal F on the corpses to identify the source of black marks.
2. Fighting off hunger.
3. Using Intrusive Thoughts [E] with Catalyst [E] (the tape player) and Intelligence [D] on the feeble man riding a pale horse. Effectiveness 7.

CD [E] 0/1

 

[DarkKitsune]

Maxxob Kris Rebel
—
The horseman of hunger would temporarily disable the spell from Mirraine’s sudden command, before reeling back in temporary disorientation Edwin’s horse lurching towards the cryptid, the charge knocking the white horse into a pile of ashes. The baronet’s attack would hit cleanly into the burnt elderly man a bright burning flash of light illuminating before the figure exploded covering Edwin and by proxy Migraine in piles of ashes.
—
Ersatra Mephisto

Fiore heeded Dione’s warning, and ran however it was perhaps not the direction the woman would have wanted. Dione’s attempt at magic would fail, spazzing out at her finger tips instead of concentrating into a proper spell. Mephisto’s…show would catch The attention of War. The ghostly figure of Kain instead opting to charge sat the fae the horse letting out a disgruntled nay before turning to ash as the small fox-kin stabbed War’s horse with the knife’s curved tip covered in the ashes of the undead before War could get up Fiore ran as fast as her little legs could carry her the knife’s curved end slashing an area where an artery would have been. The rider would proceed to turn to ash only after becoming a exploding ball of light. Covering Dione and Mephisto in the ashes that remained.

Spoiler: Note for Esatra

This is just a explanation on why componetless didn’t work. It only didn’t work because it wasn’t noted in post and isn’t a passive skill meaning it needs to work with magic F in the same ability to have done anything,

If it had been a makeshift ability like: Magic F, Magic componetless F

Made on the fly it would have actually worked, but don’t let this discourage you any! You had the right idea in mind!

—
Voider

Darin’s gun hit it’s target embedding the bullet into it’s shadowy body, the first bullet that hit the creature let out a shriek brittle cry before cracking a little in white light, the entourage of bullets seeking into it’s being after the final bullet suck in the creatur cracked and exploded and a pure blinding light. Everyone’s vision for a brief moment would appear to crack like glass before returning to normal.
—
Once everyone snapped out of it the smell of decades old decay wafted through the air, old torn down huts reeked of rot, were stained in dried old crimson stains the grass once so alive was yellow a sign the grass was dead skeletons and bones littered the ruins of a village, the area the group would find was unsuitable of living organic habitants. A village once full of life destroyed in the manner of a night…

ROLEPLAY CONCLUDED
​