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Community [Isekai Hell] Resolutions Writing Event

Vaudivolt

Rusty from the Rain
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This collection of written works in part of the Isekai Hell setting, and meant for the Isekai Hell January 2024 Community Event. More information regarding the world and its denizens can be found [here].

Character: Ruby Larue
Chosen Skill: Sleight of Hand

A Different School of Magic, Act I
Gesture - Silent Contemplation.jpgRuby held her plain-looking tome close to her chest as the snow fell around her. She was getting impatient, and in an attempt to seek distraction, her eyes picked a fight with the grey overcast. The snowfall was already responsible for smudging the silver of her armor, and her glare showed she would not allow her tome to get stained as well! Winter never truly ended in these parts of the Paizu Mountains. Although she had never been elsewhere... Perhaps the world outside her hometown, a mining town called Miller's Hollow, was no different. “<Cait? You think they have snowcones in other places?>” Ruby suddenly asked and turned amber eyes onto her friend kneeling in the snow – facing off against a basement window.

<Probably, if they get snow deliveries or something?>” The one kneeling answered - a Felinefolk with ash-black hair and nimble hands that defeatedly banged against the library's outer wall. “<They literally locked my entrance, Ruby! Who does something like that?!>” Cait hissed in disbelief.

<I don't think a basement window counts as an entrance...>” Ruby responded absentminded, her eyes wandering the freshly fallen snow until a spark ignited in them. “<Gasp! I know!! We should go to the mineworkers-and then tell them to close the mines-and then they go shovel snow-and then we can sell it to other towns!-->” Ruby excitedly rambled until she halted from a perceived flaw in her plan. “<Wait, is snow more expensive than silver? Probably not, right, Cait?>

<Probably not, but! It so does count as an entrance! Don't talk over it! Besides, you wanted a quiet place to read your magic book, right?>” “<It's a book about magic, not a magic book!>” Ruby insisted, clutching the plain-looking tome tighter against her chest. “<The Order wants me to study more, but their scripts are too boring! This one is fun~!>

<A book about magic, but not a magic book?>” Cait wondered out loud before shaking the thought from her mind, “<Anyway! That's why we are here! I come here all the time, and they never bother me!>

<Except when they lock your entrance?>” Ruby retorted with a coy smile and drew her rapier from its sheath. With her silver blade drawn and unable to wait for another second, she unceremoniously jammed the weapon into the slit beneath the window and leveraged it open. The wood creaked in protest before it separated from the simple lock. “<Are you even allowed to use your weapon like that?>” “<Fools despise wisdom-and knowledge means insight!>” “<What?>” “<I'm protecting the seeking of knowledge like the Order wants me to!>” Ruby proudly exclaimed, then waggled the blade's tip toward the open window, “<You first, seeker of knowledge~!>


Act II
Caitlin Mipsey - the Wanted Wildcard.jpgAfter a tight squeeze followed by a short drop into a pile of loose papers, the Beastkin burglars found themselves among the dusty shelves and old tomes that made the library's archives. What little light streamed in through the broken window revealed the dust floating through the air, and Ruby sneezed because of it. “<If you come here all the time, why is it all dusty? It's like the snow followed us indoors!>” Ruby questioned, wiping her nose as she wandered around the cramped space. Despite growing up in Miller's Hollow, she had never been in the archives. And the few that had all held permission from the Order, that much she knew! “<You think they keep some secret snowcone recipe here? Gasp! Or the Captain's diary? Gasp!! What if he wrote about me in it?! A few weeks ago, I got disarmed while practicing bladework-and he said he wouldn't mention it-and I think he would totally write that down anyway!>

<Probably not, Leon's too busy conjuring roses,>” Cait replied dismissively, swiping a pile of books off an old wooden table. It was the quickest way to clear the surface before she could sit down and unclasp an old tome, which she laid open in front of her. Tracing the lines with her finger, Cait silently mouthed the writing while Ruby followed her example and sat down with the tome she brought along. After flipping the book open, Ruby reached for her tail and dug around in the red fluff until it produced a deck of playing cards - deliberately seeking out the 'nine of diamonds' to fiddle with while reading her tome. Yet, within a few minutes, she had already begun leaning on the table, fidgeting more intensely with the card as her leg bounced beneath the tabletop.

She was about to give in and stand up from her seat when Cait provided ample distraction. “<Ruby, look!!>” Cait exclaimed, her eyes locked onto a swirl of colorful flames dancing above her fingertips. “<Woah! How'd you do that?>” Ruby asked with palpable amazement, sharing her friend's excitement of a successful casting. “<All talent!>” Cait replied smugly, “<It's easy, but the clergy doesn't want to teach me because I'm too good!>” “<What's it do? Tell me!>

Cait fell momentarily silent, her eyes locked on the swirling flames. “<...Yours first.>” She retorted, refusing to accept defeat by admitting she did not know the finer details. In response, Ruby paused before a coy smile formed on her face. “<You don't know~>” “<You don't know either! What's yours do? Can I see?>” “<No!>” Ruby blurted out and crossed her arms over the open pages of her tome. “<...I mean, I can't get it to work yet-and I'm not doing the movements right-and the wording is pretty confusing...>

<You think it's because your fingers are too short for casting magic?>” Cait grinned, jabbing back for being called on her bluff. And for a moment, Ruby glanced down at her hand. She had removed her gloves and wrist-guards, hoping it would benefit her, but... “<I don't think-- Hey!! They're not all short, Cait!>” She suddenly retorted, using her right hand to cover up the two amputated tips on her left, “<I lost those fighting against the cursed, you know!>” “<You lost them lazing in the snow, liar!>” “<I was literally dying!>

They both struggled to keep a straight face, but when Cait cracked, Ruby quickly joined in on the laughter. “<Fine, then it's because your attention span is too short!>” “<It's not!>” Ruby retorted again, then hesitated before closing her tome and sliding it over to Cait. “<You try it then!>

<101 Easy-To-Do Card Tricks?-->” Cait read the book cover out loud in a confused tone. She then glanced up at Ruby, who held the 'nine of diamonds' between her fingers while grinning. With a flick of her wrist, the card disappeared from sight. Hidden behind her fingers, leaving an empty palm and Cait looking less than impressed. “<This is probably not what the Order wants you to learn-->” “<But it's fun, Cait~!>


 
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Entry Link:
Character Sheet:
Chosen Skill: [Supersense: Thermal Vision E]
 
Character: Malik Seraphim

Skill: Performance [Flute]

In the stillness of his room, which doubled as an office, Malik Seraphim, draped in the somber elegance of evening attire, stood in silent rumination. His keen violet eyes, windows to the troubled thoughts within, surveyed the lively city of Ryken through the closed balcony window, its glass fogged by the winter's breath. Around him, the office space was sparsely furnished, with just a handful of practical pieces—a desk, a chair, a bookshelf—all speaking of utility over extravagance. A modest drinking cabinet stood to one side, its contents a nod to the rare moments of leisure, while the walls were adorned with a curated selection of art, quiet spectators to his solitude. The room was warmed by the glow of a small fire crackling in the fireplace, warding off the winter's chill that pressed against the walls of his personal sanctum. Malik, an amalgam of human and fae heritage, was a stark contrast to the world from which he hailed, now adrift in a foreign land, his fate rewritten by an unexpected isekai event.

Years had molded Malik into a solitary figure, a bastion of self-reliance in his former life. Companions had either fallen like autumn leaves or turned on him with the viciousness of winter's bite. A coldness not too different from the chill that swept over the city that winter. Now, in Ryke, he braced himself against the a presumably even more isolated journey, not daring to expect the warmth of camaraderie that had once betrayed him. Childhood friends and family members all gone or lost in coming to this world, Malik would not have the convenience of his former world in making relationships deeper than the many work associates he had developed over the past year.

1704611965646.pngYet, this evening was different, the Silver Star Trading Company was alive with revelry, celebrating the fruits of a year's labor. Laughter and music spilled from the grand hall, a stark contrast to the relative quiet in Malik's contemplation. He had earned his place in the company, his sharp intellect and enigmatic fae charm propelling the enterprise and his standing within it to new heights. But as the company rejoiced, Malik had refrained from the party preferring the company of his own thoughts and the lingering glances toward a flute that rested on a side table nearby. The lights of the city dully flickered in the metal of the flute like spirits of Malik's past.

The flute's sound, once a mere echo of his former life's battlegrounds, now held a darker, more intimate note. It was his mother he longed to find, yes, but the pursuit was more than filial. A taboo desire whispered in his heart, a secret yearning tied to his fae lineage, forbidden, driving him with an intensity that startled him at times. It was a yearning for things he dare not think, much less say out loud, but a key to unlocking the full potential of his heritage and future.

As Malik’s fingers heavily moved over the flute, something within him shifted. With each moment, his fingers grew more nimble. The years of solitude had honed his will, sharpened his senses, and now, as he played, his magic stirred. The pink crystal flower, akin to the glow of his eyes, floated from the pocket he kept it in, pulsating with every note. It bobbed through the air, a visual to the haunting melody that now filled the room. His music, once a humble mundane tune, took on a life of its own, suffused with his magic, resonating with an otherworldly timbre that wove through the room and into the night.

The melodies loosely conveyed his growing magic control more so than his actual skill with a flute, of the forbidden spells he had come to know and master over the past year. They spoke of an abomination who was reshaping himself, preparing to bridge two realms in search of answers only his mother could provide.

As the party below reached its zenith, Malik's concert for one drew to its own peak. The final note lingered in the pre-dawn glow, infused with hope and determination. In the year ahead, he would continue his ascent, strengthen the company, and draw closer to his mother. The pursuit was fraught with challenges, but Malik Seraphim was no stranger to the perils of ambition. With the first light of dawn washing over him, he stepped into the new day, a solitary figure with the resolve of a thousand false deaths.
 
Character Sheet: Fantasy - [Isekai Hell] Characters - Current
Link to Sumbission: Fantasy - [Isekai Hell] Resolutions Writing Event
Chosen Skill: Interrogation

Victorique Sopheana

GZoFB8A.jpg

Alternate art generated from:
Victorique de Blois

“So... All I need is for this dude to reveal what he stole and whom he stole it from?” Victorique asked, as she wasn't sure why she was asked to do this.

fc784f193166c5ee736d20ecba2cd544.jpg

“Indeed.” The interrogator replied, not really bothering to add any more details.

“Shouldn't be too difficult, as we've already seen his [Thief] title, right?” She stated, as she walked into the interrogation room. She felt like she was going to get an 'easy' job first, based on what they already knew.

Sadly enough, the dude's first reaction wasn't an ideal. The thief looked at her in a mixture of confusion and amusement.

thief_by_dusint_dd61r3c-414w-2x.jpg

“The hell's a kid doing in here?” He called out.

“Is torture allowed during an investigation?” She immediately asked the person with her in response.

“Legally, perhaps. Morally, it might not be the ideal start.”

Upon receiving such a response, she sighed. “Fine, fine.” She turned to the thief. “How about we make this easy, and you just tell me what you stole and who you stole it from? I bet we both want this over with.”

“Like fuck I won't.”

“You do know your only shot at a reduced sentence is to confess, right? To make this easier on the both of us and in turn. Give us what we want, we go easy on you. Even the biggest idiot should understand how reasonable that offer is.”

“Hah! I ain't gonna fall for that one from some random bloody kid...”

“I'm not a kid, you --”

“Could've fooled me!”

Victorique sighed deeply. This wasn't going anywhere, was it? It just made her want to start pressing a glowing hot poke to his chest or something. Yet... she'd better not resort to such things. Well, not yet, at least. She sat down, leaned back and lit up her pipe. She could use some smoke. She took her time, slowly breathing in, enjoying the sensation of smoke and the flavour of this particularly pleasant tobacco. She breathed out slowly, then repeated.





“Oi, kid, you're just gonna soil your lungs our what?” The thief asked, confused and annoyed alike.

Victorique didn't reply, instead just casually smoking. There was a lot more tobacco to enjoy.





“'T is a fucking joke, this is.”

“You know.” She finally spoke up, once it looked like the Thief was almost falling asleep from boredom. “I've seen a lot of really messed-up stuff, angered some really powerful people, solved some rather tough mysteries...” She smirked. “You know what one of the few constants was, through-out all that? The fact that I got out of it and solved what needed solving.” She got closer to the Thief, then jumped atop the table to be able to look him in the eyes. “I solemnly swear, you and I, we will stay here as long as needed, until I know what I want to know.” She laughed after she stated it, a hint of insanity in her voice.

[Bulvark's Touch] - Due to your interaction with the First Tyrant, Ryke Bulvark, you emit an aura of dominance to any that you talk to. Whoever you interact with will feel like they are talking to a giant, to an intimidating figure. Echoes of Bulvark's twisted laugh can be heard by the character and those speaking to the character. Great for interactions.

“Of course, I've got no clue what I'm doing, so we'll be here for a long, long time.” She was already steeling her mind. She'd be in it for the long run. If she couldn't threaten, convince or outwit this man, she'd outlast him.

“You're... you're fucking kidding me!” He called out, having no clue what in the world he was being subject to at this point.

“Nope~ I'm going to make the most out of this training and try whatever I can, no matter how long it takes for me to figure out how to get you to talk! I'll make sure this will be the best learning...”

“A diamond necklace. I stole a diamond necklace from some noble lady. Then I threw it in the river at Valentino bridge when I realised I got caught to hide the evidence.”

“What...” She was a bit surprised, as she'd just started to come up with new things to try. How in the world did this happen? Was she not even going to be able to try practising some things? “You're lying, aren't you?” She smirked, of course, that had to be it! Even though... her insight told her otherwise. This thief must be a particularly amazing liar! This was going to be great!

“For the love of Elisiul, have mercy, please, someone get me out of here, I already confessed, this is bullshit! I don't want to sit here with some random ass creepy child talking nonsense to me!” He called out, as two guards arrived to drag him away.

Victorique was just left puzzled, until the supposed teacher coughed.

“So... did I pass?” She asked, as she wasn't even sure herself.

“I... I don't know.” The interrogator hesitantly replied. This was a first. “I guess?”
 
Character Sheet: Fantasy - [Isekai Hell] Characters - Current (Oden)
Link to Submission: Fantasy - [Isekai Hell] Resolutions Writing Event
Chosen Skill: Interrogation
The iron gates creaked noisily behind her as the old owl stepped forth, slowly swinging themselves shut with a thunderous boom. The cell trembled on impact, now only illuminated by the dim firelight of a flickering candle. Quivering, the female ratkin on the floor cautiously looked up, only to recoil and stumble backwards at Oden's soundless presence.

Staring back silently, Oden scrutinized the prisoner. Despite merely being locked up a few days, her state was terribly piteous. Her clothes were ragged and dirt-stained, clinging to her skin from sweat and abuse. Her limbs had grown bony and malnourished, trembling as she covered her head with her claws.

But, Oden had no pity for Laphera.

For she had caused the deaths of hundreds.

"Was it fun?" The old owl began gently, her voice echoing chillingly in the stone cage. "Ending the lives of all those children."

A trace of thick murderous intent flashed in her raptorial eyes, lacing her wrinkled amber eyes with merciless gold. If she could, she would strangle and tear apart this woman with her own hands.

But she mustn't.

This woman was just one piece of the puzzle. For the sake of the bigger picture, they needed answers, not her fury.

Laphera didn't respond to her words, continuing to tremble and shield herself with her paws.

Oden's gaze flickered with disdain, slowly moving a hand to tap her finger on the table. Rhythmically, like a drum, as the only sound permeating the silence, the tapping frantically drilled itself into the criminal's ears, heightening her anxiety.

"Your poison supplier. Who is it?" Her voice was cold and decisive, cutting straight to the point.

"Speak. You may not fear pain or torture. But delay, and I can make it so your family is no more."

Laphera visibly shook at her words before growing still, soullessly staring in between her digits at the grey owl.

"If you thought we'd have pity on your newborn, you are mistaken, Laphi." Oden suddenly smiled softly, like a ray of sunshine. But to Laphera, she only felt that the devil was staring back at her.

Backed into a corner, she suddenly lashed out, her claws glistening sharply as the only maintained part of her appearance. With lowered eyes, Oden merely flew backwards to dodge the leap, using the end of her bow to emotionlessly slam her attacker back to the ground.

Grey feathers fluttered around them as the owl merely smiled again, looking down at the malnourished ratkin with quiet eyes.

"If they can blackmail you with your family, we can too." She stated simply.

"Now the question is, who do you think will be more likely to protect them? The Ryozo Clan, or the people who have already abandoned you?"

---

With a loud bang, the iron gates closed themselves once more behind her as Oden stepped outside, heaving a silent sigh.

"How was it?" A calm voice called out from the side, his blue wings outstretched as the taller owl half-leant against the prison walls.

"I got their rendezvous point. Whether we'll find their trail is up to you now." Oden bowed politely, offering up the written statement she had retrieved.

The sapphire owl took a moment to take and skim her findings, before looking to the elderly owl again.

"You've worked hard." He smiled minutely with a nod, before offering his hand. "Would you like an escort back to the clan?"

"No, I'll return in the evening. I want some time to myself." She refused gently, shaking her head. At her words, the other owl merely nodded, quickly taking to the skies back towards Yasaki in order to immediately prepare for an ambush. Time was of the essence, one could only hope the other side had yet to fully clean up their tracks.

Oden watched him depart quietly, silently reflecting on herself. She thought her abilities would've rusted from lack of use, but it somehow didn't take long for her to pick up her old talents. It was as if she hadn't changed. And that thought was both frightening, and lonely. The world moved on, but was she still stuck in the same place? Even as the wind blew as she mused, she couldn't find an answer for herself.

Retrieving the bow off her back, she examined the meagre dirt and blood stains on its end, so faint it was indiscernible unless scrutinized up close. Silently, she wiped away the last residual signs of the interrogation off her old weapon, walking forward aimlessly with sombre thoughts.
 
Character: Gyld
Skill: Leadership

In the heart of an ancient forest, where the trees whispered secrets of old and the streams sang melodies of the earth, there lived Gyld, the Owlbear. His feathers and fur bore the colors of the forest – greens, browns, and hints of gold, like the dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves. The creatures of the forest knew Gyld as a noble but solitary figure, often seen wandering the woods, attuned to its subtle rhythms but seldom engaging with its many inhabitants.

One fateful day, as the sky turned a foreboding grey, a storm unlike any other descended upon the forest. Winds howled like enraged spirits, and rain fell as if the heavens themselves were weeping. Trees that had stood for centuries were uprooted, and rivers swelled beyond their banks. As the storm raged, Gyld sheltered beneath an ancient oak, his heart heavy with the turmoil that had befallen his beloved forest.

When the storm finally abated, leaving an eerie calm in its wake, Gyld emerged to a scene of devastation. The forest, which had always been a place of harmony and balance, lay in disarray. Animals huddled in fear, their homes destroyed, their spirits broken. A sense of helplessness pervaded the air, a feeling foreign to Gyld’s nature.

As he walked through the ravaged woods, his instincts urged him to aid those in need. He found a family of squirrels trapped beneath a fallen branch and, with gentle strength, freed them. He soothed a frightened fawn, guiding it to safety. With each act, something within Gyld stirred – a realization that his role in this forest was not merely to exist within it but to protect and nurture it.

The forest needed more than a strong paw and a keen eye; it needed a vision of hope, a beacon to guide it through the darkness. Gyld, standing amidst the broken boughs and scattered leaves, felt a calling resonate within his soul. He knew what he must do.

Gyld began to travel through the forest, speaking to the animals in a voice that was both powerful and gentle. He shared a vision of a forest reborn, of trees standing tall and rivers flowing clear. He spoke of unity and strength, of working together to heal the wounds of the storm. His words, imbued with the wisdom of the woods and the conviction of his heart, ignited a spark of hope in those who heard him.

Under Gyld’s guidance, the animals began to work together. Beavers repaired dams with the help of birds, who carried twigs and leaves. Squirrels and mice collected seeds to replant the trees that had been lost. Gyld himself toiled alongside them, his great paws as adept at clearing debris as they were at offering comfort.

The true test of Gyld’s leadership came when a cry of distress echoed through the forest. A group of young rabbits had been cut off by a rapidly rising stream, their calls for help growing more desperate. Gyld knew that saving them would require not just bravery, but the collective effort of the forest.

Standing on the riverbank, Gyld rallied the creatures. “Today, we face not just a river, but the challenge of fear and doubt. Together, we are more than the sum of our parts. Together, we can overcome this.” Inspired by Gyld’s words and courage, the animals worked in unison. Otters and ducks navigated the waters, while birds scouted from above. Guided by Gyld, they formed a living bridge, and one by one, the rabbits were brought to safety.

As the last rabbit was rescued, cheers erupted through the forest. Animals who had once lived in their own small worlds now embraced each other in a community forged through adversity and hope. Gyld, standing tall, realized that his journey had led him to this moment – a leader not by force, but by inspiration and unity.

In the days that followed, the forest healed. It grew stronger and more vibrant, a testament to the resilience and spirit of its inhabitants. Gyld, once a solitary guardian, now walked the forest as its leader, his heart full with the knowledge that true leadership was not about leading the charge, but about lighting the path for others to follow.

In this reborn forest, where the trees still whispered ancient secrets and the streams sang songs of renewal, Gyld found his purpose. He had become a beacon of harmony and balance, a leader not just in strength, but in spirit. And the forest, in all its newfound unity and strength, thrived under his watchful eye and caring heart.
 

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