[Roleplay Thread] The Underworld Breathes

[Hell Diver]

The Golem's Embrace 


Black clouds flood the sky’s gentle frame and begin to cry. Tears of ash drift down and softly cling to the rooftops, to the cobblestone streets. When iron’s scent invades the air, the first bell rings in sequence, once, twice, then erupting wild; now a panicked din. Streams of men flee for the castle’s inner sanctum, but they cannot match the fast breach of corruption’s spread.


A roar tears through the shadow sky. From the central tower the King’s men watch, with dread they mark the ashen fog as it is torn in two by a sleek and gargantuan saurian beast. The slithering thing sets against the city. Too vast for measure, too great to face, the King’s men witness the scales that shimmer black and lose all their strength. The beast tears into the ramparts as though they were molded sand, and a thousand men fall with to their doom in the spraying rubble. Heedless, it slithers towards our center, towards all of us. And yet it would not reach its goal without opposition.


The gods set forth their hand; the golems rise up. The pieces of prophecy shine brightly; a beacon in this day turned night. With fists and clutching hands they set their stone against scale, their holy might against the shifting shadows. The very earth quakes and the city shudders in witness to the fury of their clash. In their stone grasp the golems three seized the saurian beast, and the crushing pummel of the golem’s crystal fist sent the saurian hurling back into the fields. A cheer rose up in the city, the hope of victory swelled, yet from their perch on high, the King’s men trembled. For their eyes, keen and sharp, missed not that which swarmed the rubble.


Countless two-legged creatures spilled over the Citadel’s fallen ramparts. They were no common monster; but like men, clutched blades in their hands and covered their form in armor. The bell-tower let loose its clanging cry once more, but it came not in time. Though the mighty golem had crushed the saurian beast, the swarming corruption stole the advantage and spread into the city. From the innermost corridors there arose a shout, and then a piercing scream. “The princess! The princess, they took her!” The cries of alarm were soon swallowed up in the blood of innocents; the men of the castle brought to their knees. Yet the King’s men, and the Knights of the Seventh City rallied inside the inner sanctum and prepared for death. For King and Coal they feared not their mortal coil, and recompensed the assault with pure bright honor befitting their station. They protected their king until at last came the dawning day, and the corruption retreated back to its depths.


Though sick with fatigue, the King rallied his men once and to all the world sent this message; “Those who are able, those who are worthy, step forward. Thus saith the King of the Seventh City; return to me my daughter. Do this and you shall be rewarded any thing you ask, even unto half of my kingdom.”

 

[Hell Diver]

For the thousands that volunteered for the retrieval of the King’s own daughter, a hundred covered wagons of oak and hide did the King prepare for travel. Fifty were sent in haste, for the tracks of the two-legged horde were yet fresh on the grass, and soon to fade. The rest were sent in a slow trickle, that they may learn from the failings of those gone ahead.


It may be to your credit, then, that you were named among the last.




Combat



Sir Reegar Nobis, Human - Captain


Lady Renata Grace, Human - Deputy


Wrys the Monk, Human - Vanguard


Silver Blackwell, Human - Vanguard


Ruger Untergard, Human - Vanguard


Lizabeth Aeony, Human - Midguard


Araihena Vosian, Human - Midguard


Elise Ibis, Human - Rearguard


Sir Crispin Ferrend, Human - Rearguard


Lord Odric Cadogon, Human - Rearguard





Relief



Y’Devrin Untou, Sylph - Medic


Evangela Pesani the Sister, Human - Medic


Maria Graune, Human - Medic


Rickas Filaire, Human - Priest


Shah, Creature - Guide







The clop of hooves cushioned against the dirt touches the silence of the dark night. The caravan winds down the beaten path, and long before it reaches its end, the moon has stretched across the night sky, and every star has emerged from the veil of shadow. At last, the caravan draws to a stop, and the curtain is pulled back by the withered hand of an elderly peasant. A grin cracks his face, all gums and yellow teeth.


He speaks, and his voice, though high pitched and strained by age, yet draws the ear. “We’ve arrived. Come and meet your guide, the one that will lead you the rest of the way.”


Ash falls from the darkened skies. A splash sounds off in the distance as the crickets begin their serenade. The dirt is soft, and the air is wet. A thick and muddy scent clings to the nostrils and hampers the breath.


Those within step out and see the creature restrained by chains grasped in the old man’s hand.


“Shah is the name it gives itself,” the old man says. “It knows a way through the marshlands, or so they tell me. You decide for yourself what to do with it.”


He cackles, and retires the reins in the captain’s hand. With quick movements for so aged a man, he clambers into the wagon. The horses neigh and pull away, and you are left with only your torches against the darkness.


The vast swampland beyond the wall bears dread enough to touch your very soul. Something like eyes watch from the black water, and a strange chittering sound, like children laughing, rings in the distance.


The murk splashes up to the boot. Every step slogs and squelches. With the wetness comes the night’s chill, piercing through cloth and armor. The horses are lagging, their tongues lolling out. When it seems there will be no end to it, the captain cries out. His finger thrusts ahead, and you spy off afar, touching the horizon, the warm glow of a campfire.


The rousing hope is a costly peril.


Unleashed by the resounding call, the marshes come alive. A mass of rippled slithering, like vines over your feet, rushes over the way. The captain cries out and thrusts his hand into the wave of motion; he withdraws a writhing snake. From the middle, it snaps; it sinks its fangs into his arm.


A groan reverbrates, but not from the captain. The water mounds; it swells and multiplies, growing in stature as all around the murk of the marsh parts in clumps.A yellow eye glows; predatory loathing lurks in the curling of its snarl.



“Thievesss, tressspasssers,” Garbled words, but words nonetheless, proceed from its fanged mouth. “You mussst…... Pay my toll.”

 

[Avouleance]

Not a beast she’d seen before in the arena, but presumably mortal all the same and if not well, then she’d leave a mark. Arai keep her eye on it, reaching a hand to her back where one of her hilts was hidden, and the other to the bolas she wore at her waste. She drew her blade, but kept it down, visible but not pointed at the beast just yet. She began to spin up her bolas, slowly at first but steadily gaining speed as she did all the calculation she might not have time to if her foe was too fast. She been quiet until now and intended to keep it that way, no one had mentioned recognising her, and while she wasn’t trying to hide who she was she didn’t see any reason to force the issue before it’s time. The toll, if it were to be paid, she’d let someone else handle, there were clearly people whose families had more money than she did in the group so they could cover it.
 


She began shifting her weight from foot to foot, making sure none got too sunk, limbering up in preparation for dodging, which was about 90% of her plan. She was happy to stay back, making a mental note or what surrounded her, after all it would be a mistake to assume this monster was alone.  
 

 

[Frederick]

[SIZE=14.6667px]Shah’s chain rattled in time with the wheels of the wagon; his body shuffling uneasily as the road shook the axles with more force than felt safe. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]He didn’t like this. He didn’t like not feeling the ground beneath him, and did not trust something that would move for him. Nor the beast – the horse – that pulled the wagon; he had seen many of them die out there once bereaved of their masters, as if they had no will for survival on their own. He didn’t like not knowing who the others were, all the little noises his ears could pick up telling him that there were people around him, people he couldn’t see and didn’t know.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]He didn’t like the old man. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]He [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]hated[/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px] the dungeons though. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]The wagon they sat in was silent, and empty of life besides the two of them, neither of whom could be called lively. The old man hadn’t talked for a while now: Hadn’t said a word to Shah anyways, just low muttering that Shah could hear but couldn’t comprehend. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]The lull of silence was difficult to break, and eventually his breathing grew heavy with slumber, his head and limbs drooping as he slowly felt himself relax. He could fall asleep like this. He was so very tempted to.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]The wheels slowly drew to a halt, squelching in the mud. Suddenly he was yanked up, snapping him out of his stupor as he was dragged out into the ash-filled smog he should have grown accustomed to. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]Blinking wakefulness into his eyes, he met the gazes of so many people, all these people he had heard before but he couldn’t ever had imagine there were so many of them, so many. He had never felt quite so alone.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]He watched the chain around his neck be passed between one hand to another. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]This man was too tall. Too big and too tall. ‘Don’t’, he wanted to tell the hand around the chain. ‘Stop.’[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]“[/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]Speak truth.[/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]” he said instead, and raised his hand in gesture. A greeting, that did not travel well between their tongues despite how similar they were. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]They proceeded, marching deeper into the wetlands. They had brought their horses, perhaps as a form of cruelty to the poor beasts. The Road was far off still, and it was no guarantee that they would last the way there. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]Suddenly, the tall man shouted something, something about the campfire and the comfort of rest that awaited them and Shah wished desperately that the man had kept quiet. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]Snakes poured out of the depths in a slithering fleeing mass, flanked by something big, something slimy and ashen and towering that made Shah crouch in defence, teeth bared pathetically to match the snarl the beast gave them. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]‘[/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]Apangra’ [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]thought Shah in alarm, wondering if the name belonged to this beast or if something worse had deserved it. The fragile soil broke and shifted beneath his feet as the creature rose out of the water, sinking him a bit deeper and making him feel all the more trapped.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]“[/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]You mussst…… Pay my toll.[/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]” Apangra commanded. Shah cowered instinctively, but felt both bewildered and suspicious all the same. It had no use for coin. Shah looked up at the tall man – [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]Nobis – [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]and hoped that they had brought feed, or something it could make use of. The horses, maybe.[/SIZE]



[SIZE=14.6667px]Some part of him wanted them to attack; wondered if they would. He couldn’t tell what these people were thinking, had no idea if they would move as one or not. [/SIZE]

 

[Syrenrei]

Silver Blackwell
​

Vanguard
​

 
​

Silver had been decidedly thrilled he was chosen for the quest for the princess and doubly so when he recognized a familiar face- Y'Devrin Untou. A few months ago she had earned his praise for clearing up a little problem when his lady of the evening wasn't of high caliber and great health. He had attempted to greet the healer before the caravan's wheels had completed a single rotation but she had given him a displeased expression. Considering he'd be in close quarters with her and quite a large number of other people he had reasoned he need not spend all his energies on rekindling their fine friendship. After all, there were many more relationships to forge! He'd wait a time before dallying with motives of a more romantic nature, however. In the past his flirtations had been quite forward because he would only be in the company of his 'target' for a short duration. The vast journey ahead of them guaranteed this lot would be stuck with Silver quite a bit longer than was typical. He was pacing himself.


Instead of engaging his comrades he had taken to simply watching them. They were quite a motley crew but he was certain that was indicative of success. The formally trained knights intrigued him but they didn't look particularly chatty yet so he didn't ask a litany of questions. No, he just stared as if he expected that somehow he would glean from a roll of the shoulder or shift of weight the secrets to their enduring success. There had to be something that explained how they had made it so far despite having (in his estimation) pathetic shields. Truly, why carry a shield when it's only five feet tall? They lacked a certain devotion to the esteemed art of bearing a shield yet they did not crumple in battle as one would expect. Perhaps it was a dedication to offense? Then why bother with their shoddy excuses for shields at all? It made no sense! He furrowed his brow and tried (with no success) not to give the other shields around him disparaging looks or those composed of pity. At night he would weep for the blacksmiths that had been erroneously commissioned into making the feeble trifles.


There was one man- Ruger he thought he was named- that had no shield and but one strange long weapon. To be honest, Silver didn't pay attention to the names of weapons since he had no use for them. As a devotee of the shield they were but a distraction. He saw, however, that this Ruger had a similar devotion to his sharp-metal-stick-thing as Silver had to Lady. Maybe at the next campfire he'd ask about the... by the gods, what did they call such contraptions? It would be useful to have a comrade with an intense passion for offense to compliment his fervor for defense.


And then they came across the marshland they must traverse. Silver had done his fair share of traveling and seen plenty of unpleasant landscapes. This, however, would rank pretty high up on the 'retire and forget this place' list simply because he didn't care to be damp... unless it was due to perspiration and involved another person... and that was an entirely different matter altogether. Their guide, a strange animal creature that he tried to flash smiles to but was perhaps too jittery to notice, recoiled when a monstrous abomination rose from the ground. Silver planted his feet into the mud and firmly stationed Lady in front of him. Due to the height of Lady, this meant when he addressed the monster-creature-abomination, it involved peering around the side as he ushered Shah to him as a means of protection. Lady was large enough to shelter them both so long as Silver was properly braced.


"Hello there, creature of the... marsh," Silver called out. In retrospect he might ought to have waited for someone of more noble birth to take the reigns of this conversation. "I think there has been a misunderstanding. We haven't stolen anything here, and I make it a point only to steal hearts." Wrong place, wrong time for that admission but Silver wasn't used to this sort of parley. "What sort of toll are you collecting?"

 

[Dominaiscna]

Lady Renata Grace


Deputy


Lady Renata had kept to herself for most of the journey. The only person she had interacted with thus far was Sir Reegar earlier in the day and that was only a short greeting to him as their leader before silently remaining close behind the, when the group departed. A heavy feeling weighed down her chest yet, she tried to remain as seemingly resolute and determind as possible. She should've been very happy, in all honesty. After all, she'd been accepted, given a new chance to do what she could not do before, yet she was anything but. Maybe it was the reality of their situation, the eerieness of their surroundings or maybe the nervousness and fear of failing Her Highness again... 


Shaking her head, the deputy rolled her shoulders back in an attempt to relax her dense posture but to no avail. As she stretched, she felt the heaviness of the King's sword against her back, safe in the Wellspring Sheath. She never understood why his Highness had given such an important relic to her... After all, it was the rapier that was her forte, the sword was much heavier to weild.... But perhaps maybe it was for another reason besides battling that he had gifted her with such a weapon? Perhaps she'll find out in the near future. 


When the so called guide joined them, Renata had taken a moment to eye the strange little creature. In truth she felt nothing towards the being, no animosity nor friendliness. It was just their guide and did not need to be any more nor any less.. Her thoughts scared her. For a moment, she wondered when she'd become so cold to the world. Was she ashamed of herself? Angry at the events that were fated to happen? Something in her broke that fateful day and she doubted that she'd ever get it back. 


Her chain of thought was shattered as she noticed the strange silence around them before the creature revealed itself to them, coiled under the vegetation in the swamp around them. It hissed, demanding a toll, one she would not give so easily to such a beast. She would've drawn her sword, but knew it would have not been wise so she held her tongue and stayed her hand, waiting for Sir Reegar's commands.


Somewhere behind her, she heard the attempt of a parley coming from one of the vanguard... Blackwell was it? The man was handsome, she'd give him that, but she wondered if he only had a pretty face. After all, she didn't find it wise to crack a joke at this foreboding creature, but she said nothing. Instead, she turned to their leader, awaiting his words. 

 

[Auren]

Maria Graune
​

Medic
​

Maria found the whole troop to be a bit of a drag. The muggy forest air seemed to not only bog down their bodies, but also their wits. Why, she told at last two of them a funny joke and they didn’t crack a smile. And her jokes were impeccable.  No one in the whole gang of ‘em wanted to chat. They looked to another leery eyed, and Maria found herself rather bored by it all.


She switched between riding the wagon and walking through the whole trip.  The horses didn’t like her much, and she definitely didn’t like them. She stayed somewhere between the middle and the end of the troupe, in a place where she would be guarded if they were attacked and where she could slip away if she needed to save her hide.


During one of her walks, she caught sight of the most beautiful man. He had eyes like stars, and his hair held the most lovely of glows. She watched him, and he didn't seem to notice her gaze. But that was all fine for Maria. She admired his handsome mug, and while he seemed to be intently gazing at another man, she didn’t need this beautiful man as a lover. No. He was just going to be her lovely pretty man, and she would make sure he would be hers forever.


It seemed that right as Maria was planning her elaborate kidnapping which would, of course, take place after the saving of the princess, an ugly, moldy thing arose from the swamp. She hissed between her teeth at the putrid smell, and her face scrunched.  He demanded a toll, and Maria narrowed her eyes. “Oh… I’ll pay you a toll alright. Stopping my fun..”she grumbled.



It was then that the beautiful man spoke, and she found herself in a heavenly swirl under his words. “You can steal my heart anytime!!” She yelled to him before letting out a loud, admiring whistle.  Blasted be the folks around her. They were much too tense for a lame troll. Plus, there was such a waste to letting a moment slide by without comment.

 

[simj26]

Wrys


Why couldn't his own party have lived a bit longer? They would have been better shots with the gun than he would ever be. Plus, the leather strap from which the painfully heavy gun hung from kept digging into his flesh. He was sure his shoulder was chafed by now. And of all the places they had to go through, it had to be the marsh. Twice now, he had lost his footing, only to be caught at his arm before he fell into the muck by the blonde mercenary with a halberd, who, on the other spectrum, seemed to be enjoying his trek, singing unintelligible ditties. Wrys could see, however, that the man was keeping a wary vigil over their surroundings, as much as he tried to put on an aloof facade by singing (though Wrys could hardly call such tone deaf grunting singing) odd songs.


His day only got worse from there. Not only were his leather shoes wet, and was probably going to smell if he didn't get out of this damned marsh and wash them in a river soon enough, their group was accosted by a hulking creature made of what seemed to the contents of the marsh. Wrys supposed it was the contents of the marsh anyway, from the smell of dead, rotting fish that punctured his sinuses, forcing his gag reflexes to turn against him. He retched when the creature drew itself to its full height, the overpowering stench flooding into his nostrils. By the gods, he had only done good things in his life. Why did he deserve this?


At that moment, all Wrys wanted to do was to go back home to his temple and read his books.


At the same moment, however, several voices broke out from his travelling companions. As he heard them, Wrys’ revolt morphed into one of horror, then into one of sheer incredulity. What kind of people were these? His knuckles whitened as he gripped his distillation kit’s bag straps. He was going to die here, along with a medic and a shieldman who only wanted a bedmate.


Beside him, the blonde man snorted, a stifled laugh at the antics of his comrades, apparently. If Wrys weren’t so tired and so flabbergasted at just how motley his crew was, he would have done the same thing.


“Yeesh, accusationing is much rude for beastie. Did beastie mama never tell beastie that calling names is not nice? AND, asking payment without magic word? Beastie is needing many spanking.” Despite his rather strange accent, and his stranger words, Wrys could see that the blonde man (Ruger was his name, Wrys supposed) was meaning business. Ruger’s blue eyes sparkled with the ferocious flames of hunger- hunger not to whet his stomach’s appetite, no… it was the hunger to finally put his halberd to good use. Wrys’ theory proved correct, as the man twirled the halberd over around from his back to his other open palm in front, directing its pike head towards the beast. “Very well. If beastie is of wanting payment, then Ruger is of obligation. Ruger will pay with gnashing and biting of steel! Now, make last wish, or flee with tails under legs before Ruger put you in soup tonight!”


What in the elder’s private drawers was this man thinking? Were all mercenaries like this? He had heard of bloodthirsty Somnian hunters that went over the line of duty just to chase down a single giant beast, all to savour the taste of victory against an overwhelming foe. This Ruger man that stood before him, halberd directed at the creature that towered over them all, was of the same ilk, it seems. Wrys groaned when he realised that the man was probably way over his head, challenging such a creature to a one on one combat, while his team mates pursued each others’ loins. He glanced down at his cannon, rubbed his temples in exasperation, prayed a little prayer to the gods that lurked in the clouds above, hoping that his karma was still in their good books, and shouldered his way forwards to the blonde man’s side. He brought the cannon up from behind him, to his hip, and flicked on the several switches at the side of the cannon. The gun hummed to life, another creature waking to meet its foe. Blue veins of light coursed through the weapon’s shell, its mouth, shaped like a dragon’s maw, opened, revealing a muzzle, from where a blue light glowed.


Wrys swallowed, and licked his dry lips. He wasn’t going to let the blonde mercenary one up him like this. “As they all said, we be not thieves, and trespassers? I see not your name etched upon the trees here. Your false accusations and your pride need be punished. You ask for a toll, and so I shall offer payment - a feast for your cursed eyes! Behold, Somnial energy’s power!” Wrys pulled back the discharging bolt, and the blue light at the mouth of his cannon intensified, lighting up the area around them. “Make clear your intent, creature, or be prepared to descend back to the hells from whence you were borne!”

 

[Emiya Shin]

Elise Ibis - Rearguard

[Wetlands]


Elise expected that she would get rejected in favor for another physically capable knight. However, fate said otherwise and the short silvered hair woman eventually found herself moving away from the Seventh City, into the quest to rescue the Princess. Clad in her survivalist outfit, Elise tread on foot alongside with her newly-founded group of mercenaries, knights and volunteered civilians, while steering her steed carrying her belongings. The caravan eventually stopped. An elderly peasant soon stepped out and faced the group, grinning.


“We’ve arrived. Come and meet your guide, the one that will lead you the rest of the way.”


Ash continued to fall from the dark skies, a grim reminder about the Corruption. Elise continued to eye on the peasant's movements who eventually brought out a chained, black creature. As the old man introduced the being as Shah, Elise observed its humanly features, complexion and actions. At that moment, she cannot help but wondering whether Shah was once a human before. After a quick stare at her own hands, Elise was grateful as she was given the chance to be born as a normal human. A sheltered one too, in fact.


With the metallic leash given to Captain Nobis, the elderly peasant went back into the wagons, leaving the group on their own. Without any choices, everyone advanced into the wetlands. The mushy smell of the environment greeted Elise's nose, which she was not so keen with. Then there was the muddy ground too, where Elise nearly lost her balance the first time she stepped on. Then again, she was not one of them who has issues traversing the marsh, as she noticed the bald, young monk was struggling too.


("If only I wasn't gotten too sheltered...")


Elise lamented in her thoughts, as she struggled to follow the group. She was glad that she has been placed as the Rearguard of the group. The Captain cried out at something, his hands pointed at the horizon. Adjusting her posture and gaze, Elise noticed a warm glow afar, presumably a campfire. The sight reinvigorated the short girl's spirit, urging her to press on to the wetlands.


However, the marshes suddenly came alive, rustling, as slithering beings move about, interrupting the group's advance and surprised Elise as a result. Her right hand was on the quarterstaff, her violet eyes to the front, ready to defend herself when a groan can be heard in the marshes. A creature materializes from the pools of mud on ground. Judging from its claws and fangs, it was undoubtedly of predatory nature.



“Thievesss, tressspasssers. You mussst…... Pay my toll.”


The fanged creature's words were perceivable, albeit garbled. At this time, Elise was armed with her quarterstaff in hand. Even then, she knew that starting a battle here was simply asking for a stab in the foot, regardless whether you are a skilled fighter or not. As Shah cowered, a tall man with a tower shield about his size shielded the guide and himself, before addressing at the fanged mud-creature in front of them. Elise chuckled a bit on his lines, especially on the stealing hearts part. Silver Blackwell, or so she heard from the women in her group that gossiped about. Elise found the man to be quite handsome, despite his womanizing behaviour. She did not expect that Silver would protect Shah however, and that adds a few cookie points.


Then there was the blonde haired woman, apparently displeased when everyone stopped and faced at the mud-creature, but not before she screamed at Silver, saying that he can woo her anytime before throwing a probable wolf whistle akin to those drunken men in bars and taverns. In response, Elise simply frowned at her, mouth agape, obviously disappointed of her actions.


("What in the Heaven's name are you doing? A battle could happen anytime soon!")


She thought to herself. As if Maria's promiscuous antic was not enough to worsen the current situation...


“Yeesh, accusationing is much rude for beastie. Did beastie mama never tell beastie that calling names is not nice? AND, asking payment without magic word? Beastie is needing many spanking.”


Elise immediately turned to the direction of that unusual way of speech. A man with a polearm weapon, presumably a halberd on his back. Although his words were... something off, but the intonation was not. It was filled with bloodlust. It did not took long for him to brandish his weapon, pointing his halberd at the fanged mud-creature.


“Very well. If beastie is of wanting payment, then Ruger is of obligation. Ruger will pay with gnashing and biting of steel! Now, make last wish, or flee with tails under legs before Ruger put you in soup tonight!”


The short, silver-haired woman shook her head profusely.


("Soup?! What are you even thinking?! That thing basically transformed from a pile of mud! Can't they just talk things out?!")


She glanced at the Captain, the Deputy and the healers behind them. Then the young monk also joined in the aggression game too, readying his contraption unseen throughout her life as an alchemist. It looks pretty complex, yet intimidating with a blue glow.


"Everyone..." Elise spoke. "Can't we just solve this peacefully?" She asked, and gestured at everyone. "We're at their turf and I don't think it's wise just to pick a fight with them! Not to mention that the campfire is not that far away!"


The short girl attempted to convince the group, although she realized that her suggestion will just fall on deaf ears and everyone will be attacking whatever that it moves.

 

[Syrenrei]

Y'Devrin Untou
​

Sylph Healer [Medic]
​

 
​

When they had all been initially summoned to the caravan, she had not expected to see a fellow sylph but was nonetheless relieved she was the sole one present. Her stance in their society was complicated and she had no desire to mix the business of hunting a princess with sylph politics. Unfortunately, a certain shield-bearing fanatic was in attendance. They had met some time prior when she had treated him for a small skin issue in a sensitive area and he had been impressed with her professional attitude and knowledge. That was not unusual. His insistence on knowing about her personal life was unusual, however. Silver's subsequent insistence he 'help' her when he finally goaded the truth out of her had been extraordinary. To this day she was perplexed how his charisma had trumped her private nature. Nonetheless, this had culminated in Silver getting trashed at a tavern, sending multiple drunk bachelors her way who 'wouldn't mind a lady who can't hear well,' and multiple explicit threats to a desperate fifty-year-old widower. It would be a gross understatement that she didn't want the man there, but at the same time the way he handled the giant chunk of metal he called a shield was admirable.


And at the end of the day this wasn't about feelings. Practicality, efficiency, and synergy mattered more than emotion.


She fared better than most in the swamp. A marsh was a new landscape to her but all sylphs spent a considerable amount of time outside in adverse conditions. When there were torrential downpours that softened the ground into a thick sludge, they still had animals to hunt and herbs to gather. Y'Devrin didn't even bother to try to rub off the grime that splattered her with each advance. It was so normal, so typical, for her way of life that the horrible odors the others wrinkled their noses at barely registered. She stole glances as they walked around for anything that might be of value: unusual plants, animal corpses not yet picked clean, timid fauna that could be an easy kill for that evening's supper, or trees that had been struck down by the elements but that still had lumber that could be harvested for walking sticks.


The creature was a surprise. As it rose from the depths and hissed an accusation and demand at them she just knew that at least a couple of them would jump at the opportunity to attack. Not that the thing didn't naturally elicit that sort of response from a warrior groomed to 'fight' rather than 'flight,' but it did seem a touch premature. Of course Silver had to chatter at it like it was a gods damned patron at the inn rather than a beast that could swipe half of them off their feet. The whistle that followed his words only made her groan inwardly as she contemplated how this could go worse. Wrys and Ruger indulged her curiosities as there was a halberd and cannon pointed at it a second later. A voice of reason rose from one of the rearguard but it was almost certainly too little too late.


Y'Devrin backpedaled away from the 'excitement' to be as far from the aggressors- both her companions and her soon-to-be-adversary - and started to rummage for the tinctures she'd undoubtedly need soon. The sylph genuinely cared for others and wanted nothing more to reduce pain and mend wounds, but she also fervently wished people weren't so adept at creating business for her. The world was a dangerous enough place without poking and prodding it like a simpleton.

 

[The One Eyed Bandit]

Lizabeth Aeony - Midguard


Everyone smelled.


Towering walls, ceilings, cushy beds, and droll towns. Everybody stank of them. Or at least, that was what the ever up-herself vagabond sulking within the back of the caravan told herself. In retrospect, applying where she had, the girl probably should have realized that she was going to be shacked up with as many do-good wall dwellers as she had been, but...


Well, foresight had never been one of her strengths.


Hell, she thought, maybe she could count herself kind of lucky. At least with these types, she'd have a decent laugh or two as they tried to navigate their way around the big bad world at large, or... They have nice pickings on them, whenever it was they met with their terrible fates. Maybe it was a bit early for her to be thinking so vultrously, but, with all the whitebread ilk in the party it was inevitable that one or two of them would bite it. Soon, even. Right, she smiled and let out a small sigh of relief, it wasn't like this work was going uncompensated, anyway. Either they finished the job, or she walked away with every valuable she could carry. The thought of her own death didn't even cross her mind.


As the caravan slid open, and the rest of her 'companions' shuffled out into the dank depths of the swamp Lizabeth didn't follow until the cart was emptied of all others. If she was going to be stuck in the middle of the pack for the rest of the journey, she figured she might as well get a good look at everyone while she could. At least, as good a look as she could get, under the dim cascade of torchlights that made up their group. Freed of the heavy armors and weaponry that many of them donned, she had an easier time making her way across the swamp's wet, sinking floor than most, her light, leather soles padding across it without much complaint. Observing the group once more, she made a note to stary wary of their "guide". Seriously, weren't they supposed to be killing the monsters? The thing was just a walking stab-in-the-back waiting to happen. To make matters even worse, she doubted it would have anything worth stealing, either.


...It was just one thing after the other, wasn't it.


Lurking in the back lines like she was, Lizabeth didn't even notice the ground shifting. So, when it burst forth, it was almost enough to shock her out of her boots, the monster's sudden, spite filled voice sending her hand running for her belt. At least, until her mind caught up with it. Stopping short of her crossbow, Lizabeth looked ahead as the rest of her party flew into arms, firing off their contraptions and branishing their weapons about like they were toys.


It really WAS just one thing after another.


"Seriously?" Breaking her silence, Lizabeth stepped forward into the crowds of the group. "Give the little girl a listen, comon. Aren't cha' city folk supposed to be educated, or whatever? Throwing your weapons around like that..." Her voice trailing off, she cast an incredulous glare around the party. "What're lookin' for a fight for, stupids? Isn't easier to just pay the the thing? I mean, we're pretty stocked up, right? We've even..." Roughly, she slapped the bald, stumbling mess of a man on the back. "...Got a spare life or two!"

 

[Killigrew]

Evangela


Pity in excess filled and flowed from Evangela's heart. The seeds planted first when she met Shah's large, sad eyes, and sprouted while father pulled the creature along, even dragged it at times, unwilling to spare the speed of his pace over the black swamp muck. The callousness weighed on her; her heart squeezed through the throat, but she quelled the words. Evangela knew the way Reegar wielded power; cruelly against any perceived dissent. 


 


She would have to ask him at a better time, when his stomach was warm and full of food.


 


The mud had a gooey consistency, and it clung up the inside of her dress, grasping up to the height of her thighs. And all through the long trek, she breathed through the mouth. Though the marshy air burned her throat like the smell of rotten eggs, the loathing of it left her with time. 


 


The horses were panting -- a sign that they were soon, perhaps, to die. She thought she ought to be worried, but could not think of what that meant. Fatigue wrapped a blanket around her. Even the cries of shelter ahead stirred her spirit but little.


 


Then the beast rose up from the muck, its eyes glimmering like little yellow stars. 


 


"Oh, Crispin, ah, what is that beast?" She clung to her brother; though he stiffened, he said nothing. "What does it mean, what toll?"


 


Any more glancing at the beast would have to be done from afar; Silver's shield obscured all view of it. For a moment, it seemed a bartering began (though father always said never to deal with bandits). But even that was messy -- someone in the group hooted like a lecher at the bar. Perhaps it was better that the rugged mercenary and the monk wasted no time in directing their weapons towards the beast.


 


Father spat to one side. He reared up from his slouch to full height, and his hand tapped the pommel. The negotiations were too messy. He was readying for a fight.


 


Crispin took Evangela's hand from his arm. His eyes never left the creature. 


 


"Evangela...Go now."


 


The marsh slopped under her feet as she started to flee. She passed the Sylph by -- and realized she was tinkering with her supplies, getting medical aid prepped. Stopping but for a moment, Evangela snatched the Sylph's hand, more than willing to drag her if she had to.


 


"Waste no time! If there are wounded, they will bring them to us!"

 

[Dominaiscna]

Lady Renata Grace


Deputy

Was the Deputy annoyed? Yes, a little bit. Would she have liked to draw her sword? Very much so. And did she? No. She did not. And neither had she voiced her opinion on their situation... Until now. 


She had been silent for most of the time, listening to each person exclaim whatever they thought of the matter, whether they wanted to fight or make peace or pay the bit of toll. Though it was good that the members of their little rescue crew had proven themselves to not all be a bunch of spineless maggots, they were chipping away at her patience with every self-promoting word they uttered out of their mouths. 


Not only was it disrespectful to their Leader who had yet to even say anything, they were putting themselves in a dangerous situation by building false confidence and assuming that they'd be able to defeat a foe who they did not know the power of, or, for those who wished for peace, they might've come across to the creature as fear and weakness. 


Speaking of the leader, she cast a glance at Sir Reegar with a question in her eyes. Why had he not spoken or not taken any action whether it was to fight or to comply? Was he perhaps thinking? Or trying to what with all the noise and racket their group was making.


Making up her mind that enough was enough, she turned on the group of soldiers, creatures, healers alike. Any words in favour of any side would only just rile up the crowd so she said only one sentence, one command in a calm yet authoritative voice that cut through the noise despite her not having to shout to make herself heard.


"Silence, all of you." 


To each person who uttered a word of complaint or arguement, regardless of their standing, she fixed them with her sharp gaze, daring them to make anymore of a racket or fools of themselves. She had nothing against them voicing their opinions, but in such a way was unacceptable. Their behaviour showed unrest, objection and a lack of unity which was something no one should show in the face of potential danger. 


It was then that she heard the spit and the sound of leather and metal behind her. Looking over her shoulder, she spied Sir Reegar who, with a hand, tapped the pommel of his blade. She too rested a hand on the hilt of her rapier, ready to be drawn.


Let blood be spilled for now he called for a fight. 

 

[Hell Diver]

A carpet of leaves sits on the water's surface, and a mysterious current churns them in lazy circles around the party. The trees, widely spaced, groan and twist. Something moves beneath the muck.


A current it may seem, and nothing more, but in the pressing silence of the troll's yellow stare, the swamp releases some subtle slithering sound. Perhaps it is discounted; this would not be the first time the intrepid group hears the gurgling sway of water. Shah, however, may yet outstretch its hand and feel the fleeting retreat, the bumpy texture of scaled hide.


Heaving forward, the troll sets forth his arms to grasp either side of Silver's shield.


"...Your bones..." he hisses. "Five bones to a man."


The swamp goo splatters as the troll jaw unhinges. Green teeth part and a luminescent tongue slithers out to taste the metal of the shield. A hissing steam spreads from the place of contact. The scent of hot metal; the smell of a smoky forge, permeates the rotten taste of the swamp.



Those that would flee are brought up short by the growing wall that climbs upwards, slithering to meet the ashy air. A bulbous mouth passes by, the shine of two thin fangs stark against the dark, and little beady eyes glimmer with mischief. Mark the almond shape of a snake's head, and fear the spiteful gaze! The head alone is as large as a man, and the thick muscle of the serpent's body easily matches his girth.

 

[Avouleance]

Well then, it didn’t care to talk, then neither did Arai. Keeping his mouth open would be a big mistake, after all if something went downs the wrong way, he could choke. Something like hypothetically for example some bolas. Arai, tied the end of her bolas to grappling hook, the shot didn’t take long to line up and she had the momentum she needed to go the distance. A short something silent muttered under her breath gave her time to focus.

She let her makeshift weapon fly, luckily not forgetting to hold on to her end. If this worked she’s have a weighted hook inside the thing, her plan after that would have to wait but she was confident in her potential to do cool things under pressure. She’d not come up with anything to say, which was a shame as it felt a bit incomplete not to include a one liner.  

 

[Frederick]

[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Shah froze, his ears straining as he suddenly heard it. Hissing. Slithering. Something singular, and big, moving beneath them. It was close enough to feel, although he’d never do it. To reach out, place his palm against the coat of leaves and feel the hide rub against his own: No, never. The sound of this [/SIZE][SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Azi[/SIZE][SIZE=14.666666666666666px] – no mere snake – filled his head and drowned out even the furious beat of his heart. So loud that he nearly thought something had entered his ear, moving inside his skull: He felt like he was close enough already without touching it. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]A shield, much too large for a person, suddenly landed in front of him, with the back of it facing him. He suddenly couldn’t recall if he had ever even [/SIZE][SIZE=14.666666666666666px]seen[/SIZE][SIZE=14.666666666666666px] this part of a shield before, and the thought filled him with a feeling of something bittersweet. He was protected, that was all he knew, and he glanced at the scarred man with what he hoped did not look like apprehension.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Challenges were being called at Apangra, offering to “pay” it with steel and weapons in a manner that Shah felt was threateningly close to sacrilege, but it was disjointed; none seemed to work in the interest of them all, but spoke of their own interests, and the actions they themselves would take. On their own. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]The Sevenths sure are strange, aren’t they? [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Yet despite many being unwilling to fight, Shah had an inkling feeling that it didn’t work that way; they would be attacking, he was sure of it. He couldn’t see Apangra from behind the shield, and hoped that maybe he had been wrong. Perhaps his fear had fooled his eyes. Perhaps it was smaller, lesser, maybe even as small as he was, or as small as he felt. Perhaps.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Two hands wet with what horrors decayed in this swamp gripped the shield before him, and he suddenly felt a lot less safe where he stood. A sizzling sound, and a smell like melting armour, like lava overwhelmed his senses, too sensitive, raw like an exposed nerve.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]He saw – off to the side, a bit behind him, and he [/SIZE][SIZE=14.666666666666666px]hoped[/SIZE][SIZE=14.666666666666666px] far enough away – the sylph and the girl with the kind eyes running away. Fleeing much like he wanted to, but could not, because the People knew little but the strength of numbers. It was against the very nature of them, of [/SIZE][SIZE=14.666666666666666px]him[/SIZE][SIZE=14.666666666666666px] to leave his own, to leave the ones who’d shield him, and the fear wracking him to his very core cursed his nature. [/SIZE]



[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]His hope was crushed when Azi rose from the muck, hindering the sylph and the girl. No way out of this, it seemed, once the first attack soared through the air in the form of a grappling hook.[/SIZE]

 

[Syrenrei]

Silver Blackwell
​

Vanguard
​

 
​

Silver was surprised. Plenty of aggressors had foolishly tried to take hold of his impressive shield but none had actually licked it. The troll threatened it would crunch on his bones, however the way it treated his beloved Lady almost insinuated admiration. He could hardly blame the creature! To see an object of such stalwart construction had to be a once in a lifetime event for a monster.  Followers of the way of the shield were scarce- he was the only one he knew but he was certain others had found enlightenment- so perhaps it was mystified by the beauty of Lady. Had the troll asked nicely he would have been happy to engage in a discourse regarding the copious merits of having a shield similar to Lady and devoting oneself to it. Perhaps the way of the shield would not spread through the word of man but through that of intelligent beasts or non-humans such as Shah or Y'Devrin.


But this was his shield. Silver didn't have the time or inclination to run off and have another one forged to appease this thing. Wise as it may be, the monster was trying to steal Lady after calling all of them thieves. The injustice! "You ruffian!" he bellowed. "How dare you attempt to make Lady your own and threaten the life of innocents!" Gone were the charismatic smiles and the mellow tenor of voice. The particular innocent he was attempting to protect was Shah since that was the only one in eyesight (and reach) and Silver could not spare a glance around to see who could and who could not defend themselves. The ambiguity of the referenced 'innocents' left it subject to interpretation, however.


The heat had penetrated the underside of the shield and Silver felt it press against his bracing arm. There were several straps that kept the instrument secured on his arm and buffered against the metal. With each moment these straps started to singe. Silver had weathered them well to endure the elements but this was an unusual attack he had not anticipated. The best course of action was to try to rid himself of his opponent. A grappling hook contraption soared past but Silver had no idea what it was much less the intention of the assault.


There was only thing he could think to do. He spread his legs just slightly in the muck and then crouched such that his head was no longer visible above Lady. This position was superior for defense but had a secondary purpose; to prepare him for a lurch. Silver took a deep breath and then pushed Lady with all his strength into the troll such that it might become unbalanced and vulnerable to any attacks the other might have. Surely those knights had to be good at offense since they were so ill-prepared for defense, yes?

 

[simj26]

Ruger


Ruger snorted. Yes, of course, someone had to be giving orders. It was just too bad that he wasn’t the type to respond well to them. Mercenaries like him tended to operate better when they weren’t bogged down by things like responsibilities, and they didn’t appreciate it much when someone, especially someone who hadn’t earned a smidget of respect from them to tell them to shut up.


But shut up, he did. He shoved the bald boy out of the troll’s way, and darted dancingly away to the opposite side, maintaining his balance in the bog. He watched as the bald boy stumble, but recover quickly, as the troll lunged forwards, grasping the giant shield of one of his travelling companions. The shieldsman grasped his shield, and with an awesome strength, shoved forwards against the giant, leaving Ruger to widen his eyes in a semblance of surprise and respect. The second blow to the creature came from the cannon of the bald boy: a blue burst of light exploded from its mouth, the blast slamming into the side of the creature. Ruger sidestepped the drops of slime and ichor that scattered across the swamp from the explosion, and readied his halberd.


A grin crept onto his face. This was fine. The two gave him enough to work with. With the dexterity that matched a dancer in a ballroom, he skipped across the mud, pirouetted, and sprinted towards the shieldsman’s back, before taking into the air with a leap. He sprang off the shieldman’s shoulders, launching himself further into the air.



His halberd swung a full circle, before slamming down. The force of the gathered momentum, and the strength of both arms, swung like a deadly pendulum. The axe blade buried itself into where Ruger supposed the troll’s head was. The weight of the man was enough to dislodge the halberd from the troll, as he was tugged back to earth by gravity’s hold. Ruger twirled the halberd about him in a whirlwind of blades as he landed behind the troll, and spun to meet the group’s first nemesis again.

 

[Dominaiscna]

Lady Renata Grace


Deputy

Renata could see it, with one glance around at her traveilling companions, in their eyes, their features, their posture and behaviour. The blonde boy who bore a mighty halberd with ease even let out a snort at her words and she knew what those who had fallen silent must've been thinking. Here she was, a complete stranger to some and a traitor to others, trying to give them orders and silence them. Even though she was appointed the deputy of the group, in truth she had no right to command them. 


To herself, she justified her actions as being better than just standing around and letting the group grow more and more disbanded... But she knew better. Perhaps she should've held her tongue, watched her words... Or at least how she phrased and presented them. Her reputation, to those who knew of her name, was tarnished enough and she did not want to form anymore bad relationships. This journey was her chance at redemption and she had better not ruin it. Sometimes she questioned whether her choices for joining the rescue party were more for her own sake than for her Highness's.


Her thoughts were disturbed as one by one the members of the group launched their own attack. First was something like a grappling hook, then the man with the large shield slammed it into the beast, then a variety of cannon shots and, finally, a deadly halberd blow to the head by the boy she had noted a moment before. Her hands itched at her sides to draw the blade that was given to her by His Majesty, but she had never used such a weapon before and doubted her skills and abilities with the large sword. Her rapier would have to do for now. 


Much as how Ruger had done moments earlier, she took a few steps back before breaking into a sprint with her rapier unsheated and ready to draw blood. Though she had not as much dexterity as the blonde boy, she was fast and much lighter what with a lesser body mass and a much smaller and thinner weapon. "Excuse me," she murmured under her breathe to Silver as she, with one step, took to the muscular man's back and launched herself into the air with one bounce from his broad shoulders. With weapon raised over her head with the force of gravity to make up for her lack of strength, she thrust the thin and sharp blade of the rapier deep into the bloodied mess Ruger had left in what was supposedly the head of the troll. There it stayed, so deeply rooted that almost half of the blade was buried in the mass of flesh. 


If the beast were to struggle and move, Renata was in a dangerous position on its head with the handle of the blade as the only thing keeping her steady. She was prepared, however, to duck and tumble if the situation called for it. And, if she fell, at least it would be into wet muck rather than bone-shattering hard ground. 

 

[The One Eyed Bandit]

Lizabeth Aeony - Midguard


Geh. That was unfortunate. Blades were flying and teeth were gnashing, man was already pitting itself against beast and there was little she could do about it. Aside from glowering in annoyance, that was. Was five bones to a man even that great a price, she couldn't help but wonder. To wane off the writhing beast behind them, she had her doubts.


If nothing else, it would have been much less effort. Surely they could spare a few toes, couldn't they?


Well, she supposed as her crossbow flew into one hand and a knife into the other, there was no use in complaining about it now. She'd just have to teach her pampered partners the wonders of compromise after this was all said and done. Her eyes processed the situation, spotting her comrades piling atop the foe in front of them with all the force they could muster. So, judging they'd have things handled, she spun on her heel to face the one at their backs. Slithering and hissing, the serpent that sought to bar their escape quickly found a peppering of bolts sinking into its side, responding with a mighty hiss as it threw itself towards their source. And with a smile as arrogant as she could muster, that source stood stock still. Bolts continued to fly, whistling both past and into the creature's scaly flesh, showing no relent and the creature rushed forward.


Only as the beast drew within an arm's reach would the assault stop, its assailant stepping to her side with all the deft her body could muster. Less-than-moments later, with a flash of steel and a mighty yell, a blade flew to the beast's flesh, sinking snugly into what Lizabeth could only assume to be the thing's cheek. Loudly, she swore to herself, her blade landing only inches from her mark. Regardless, she stayed resolute, her hand staying tightly wound around the knife as it was tugged along by the beast's still moving head. Once more she raised her crossbow, hauling it up to face the beast's eye, and make up for its partner's mistake. If the snake moved onto her comrades, she'd fire right into its eye. If it tried to flee, she'd fire right into its eye. If it tried to shake her off, she'd fire right into its eye. And if it succeeded...


Well, she'd probably still fire straight into its eye.


At least, she'd try.

 

[Killigrew]

Reegar 



A scream pierced through Reegar's ears and rattled in his skull. He staggered. He plugged his ears.

"EEEEEEEK! AH, OH! LEGLESS ABOMINATION, WHAT WICKED SPIRIT BROUGHT YOU TO ME?"

The pinkie alone was not enough; her screeching voice heightened by pious indignance overcame him, and to himself Reegar grumbled.

Women. They always exaggerate.

Certain her hysteria was some symptom of her vulnerable flesh, he turned his head and his mouth plumb fell off his jaw when he beheld the slitherer himself.

"Well, I'll be."

Crispin nearly took off right then. He snapped into motion, bracing to slop messily across the muck. But he scarcely took a step before Reegar thrust his arm out, armor clanking for the speed of his motion.

"Not you, boy." The words left his mouth and there came a furry of motion from beside.

Lizabeth rushed to arms against the snake, her crossbow bolts flying towards their mark.


Oh good.



He spied one that seemed to be getting her bearings and slapped his hand against her back. So powerfully did he strike the alchemist, Elise, that had she not a warrior's body, she would be sent stumbling on. "EYES ON OUR FLANK, ALCHEMIST."

Crispin beside him, Reegar fell into line behind Silver's shield and greeted the intrepid fellow with a cheeky grin.

"Seems you've plenty of help here, friend! But no one stayed to help you push!" Reegar braced his hands against the shield wall, and Crispin followed suit on the opposite side. "What do you say to catching the troll's eye a second time?"

 

[Syrenrei]

Y'Devrin Untou
​

Grumpy Sylph Medic
​

 
​

Y'Devrin saw something pale and young tugging at her with urgency, encouraging her to flee. What was this young impressionable lady's name again? Angela? Or did it begin with the letter "E?" She stared at the female for a brief moment. It was almost endearing that the pasty priestess believed herself of sufficient strength to tear Y'Devrin away from where she stood. The Sylph had been taught how to wield a bow and arrow which required not just precision and patience but strength as well. She was not on the same level as the knights to be certain, but a longbow such as hers required muscle to pull pack the taut string and hold it there while taking aim. Climbing trees, a common Sylph past time, also encouraged both men and women to become strong as well as agile. Y'Devrin had her weaknesses but she was not nearly as frail as some of her same-gendered companions.


"Flee?" Her words dripped with disdain although she managed not to frown at Evangela. In her eyes the person behind her was a child, probably no more than half Y'Devrin's age, and not used to this sort of situation. Sylphs did not panic, however, and she would not let herself fall to emotions just to comfort a human. "It is more practical to stay here and tend to the fallen as they fall, unless you want their death on your hands because they were not spirited to safety as quickly as needed." Y'Devrin's words were flat and even as if she were addressing one of her apprentices. She let herself be tugged just slightly out of concern the priestess might actually hurt herself if the Sylph didn't yield just a little bit.


It wasn't as if they were in close enough proximity to the troll to be in danger of a melee attack she wagered.


That was, of course, until she saw the enormous snake that was slithering through the muck with malevolent eyes. One of her comrades, one that was human yet as a dark-skinned as any Sylph she'd met, attacked the beast with a crossbow. One of the knights yelled a command to the apothecary that was even more diminutive than Evangela behind her. Y'Devrin cursed loudly in the native tongue of Sylphs, full of glottal stops that sounded quite severe, and tossed her large bag into (hopefully) Evangela's arms. It was quite heavy but she hoped the priestess could drop it gently onto the soft ground if nothing else. With two fluid movements she pulled her bow off her back and drew and arrow, notching it but not letting the implement fly. She wanted a clean shot before she wasted her arrow. Sylph didn't carry swords, shields, or anything metallic in nature except a skinning knife so this bow and its arrows were her only means of self-defense.


Y'Devrin was willing to wager Evangela's desire to flee at the first sign of combat was indicative of the fact she couldn't really dodge.

 

[Emiya Shin]

Elise Ibis - Rearguard

[Wetlands]


Elise simply observed the scene in silence as the vanguard members prepared themselves for battle. The troll did not waste time and it immediately clutched Silver's shield, beginning the group's clash against the monsters. At the same time, the young alchemist also heard a hissing sound behind her which she quickly turned to. It was a humongous snake, and chills ran down on her spine as soon as she identified the large reptile, blocking their way to escape.



"EEEEEEEK! AH, OH! LEGLESS ABOMINATION, WHAT WICKED SPIRIT BROUGHT YOU TO ME?"


The high pitched scream from Evangela pierced through Elise's ears, causing her to twitch and shudder in reflex, before staring at her in disbelief. The alchemist woman was as fearful as she was, and that scream further aggravated the situation. 


One of the midguard ranks fired her crossbow, and it struck the sides of the mighty serpent in rapid succession. The snake quickly charged to her, being oblivious of the other humans. They battled, and Lizabeth soon dangling from the serpent's head, her knife stabbed into one side of its cheek. Elise was amazed on how she fought, and simply stared. Then she got a strong slap to her back that nearly sent her tumbling to the muddy ground if she did not quickly utilize her quarterstaff as a support, letting out a yelp in the process.


"EYES ON OUR FLANK, ALCHEMIST."


A heavy tone from the Captain, Sir Reegar Nobis. Elise simply stared at him in awe as he took away and into the vanguard line, supporting Silver in his defending endeavor. With a sigh, Elise tried her best to muster courage and focus, as the Sylph beside her pulled her arrow, trying to get a clear shot. The purple-eyed girl carefully took a small, greenish vial from a pouch strapped on her waist.


The only true weapon she has, and able to contribute in this battle, at least her fellow alchemists said.


"By the Heavens and the Lord..." Elise prayed, while readying her throwing posture, her quarterstaff now held by her left land. "Please lead my throws...!"


And with her might and prediction, she threw the green vial to the large serpent, and quickly yelled at Lizabeth.

"Brace yourself!"


Fortunately, Elise's prediction was right, and the vial landed on the sides of the serpent, before letting out a noticeable explosion that barely misses Lizabeth that displaces mud and water everywhere. The damage on the serpent however...