Bloode of the Highlands

Febhyurary | Day VIII - city-state

I quite enjoyed Stormblood as a whole, despite the slightly uneven pacing here and there, so… Lyse :)

A portrait for @berrodarmstrong of the eponymous Highlander, Berrod Armstrong!

A commission of Autgar Bloode catching a meteor during the battle against the Ruby Weapon in Ghimlyt. With his unwavering defense, he takes the brunt of it so no one else has to. Eat your heart out, Sabik (your heart out, Sabik). 

This game has served as font of creativity for me and for all its problems this site has served as a platform to share my hobbies and I’m too stubborn to pack up and move. Here’s a little something for what I consider a personal milestone. 

I’ve met some incredibly wonderful people along the way and here’s to hoping I meet so many more.

Berrod was no stranger to fear, but there was a particular brand of fear that always threatened to pull the ground from under his feet. It was a fear rooted in seeing someone he cared about injured beyond hope, beyond saving. A familiar figure marred by wounds that none could heal. That very fear gripped him when he saw the young monk’s collapsed chest. He knew that wound. He had dealt such wounds himself, and was very much aware that she was not long for the world. 

Berrod had prepared himself to go after the one who had done this to her, to at least bring them to justice. Already his mind raced with appropriate funeral rites for an ascetic. It was then that the conjurer swept past him in a blur to kneel near the young monk and call for assistance. The young monk’s companion stomped through the mud to do so without hesitation, his eyes wide, his lips thin. Yes, there was fear, but he had clearly clung to hope.

It was then, with a healthy helping of shame, Berrod remembered himself, and the role he chose – to protect them. Justice was all good and fine, but he was in a position to help the young monk see justice done. When he thought about it, the forest knight had only just earlier taught him the key to utilizing his healing prayers effectively. It couldn’t have been a coincidence. It had to be the work of that burning star, guiding him from above. 

Those thoughts opened the floodgates of hope, purpose, determination and belief – late though it was, for the conjurer was already giving her all. With sword and shield in hand, he got down on his knees in the mud next to the conjurer. His blade sank deep into the muck and he clutched the leather grip with both hands to begin fervent prayer. 

“Though it was a star of fire, earth and lightning that saw us to salvation, know that soothing winds and churning waters were what brought us home. May the waters replenish your blood, may the winds ease your pain. May His clemency see you home. In the Destroyer’s name I pray.”

“In one are Twelve, and man cannot live by one alone. Strike ye the tower, Lord Rhalgr and spur Builder to assist. May twin levin mend, restore and fortify, and flash in a great flame so that Sister Fate and Brother Time know that we beg for her time on this land to extend.”

He was called psyco-boy and no one would have blamed her if she turned away, even him.

She was tired. Still recovering from the fight with a voidsent. Luckily, she hadn’t taken that much damage, it was more mental fatigue, or she’d be unconscious and not heard the news at all.

Flora survived. It was painful delicate work to keep her from the brink of death and bring her back over that crumbling edge, but she survived.

Now Jancis was doing the same to one that hadn’t survived. A monk that had fallen. A tragic repetition of history, at least so it seemed. Fallen in multiple ways. From morals. From life. Torn asunder in spirit and flesh.

But she did. Put the pieces back together and dug a grave by the water for this stranger. It was as much for the stranger as it was for him, though, and Jancis knew that.

The group was divided into three groups: The Wards team would focus on ensuring the wards around Apoplexy were in place, protecting the mages maintaining the wards, and providing ranged support. This team consisted of Autgar, Viktor, Jancis, Andronikos Thorne, Tiergan, Sejad, and Milo. The Assault team would directly engage Apoplexy on the front lines. N'hara, Berrod, Huggin Sigrun, Natja, Zachary, Reks, Edari, and Orion were on this team. The Piercer team would be opperating a series of ballistae to assail Apoplexy from afar. Kotoe, Martin, Gregos, and Louma'li would be handling them.

Everyone knew their role. There could be no mistakes today. Apoplexy was a threat to the realm and countless people would die if they didn’t destroy it here and now.

Orion, who had been mistaken for Apoplexy’s master, managed to lure it out into the open. The assault team had prepared a crude trap for it, a trip-wire that ran the length across the major road. The simple trap ended up working as intended and, attempting to follow the road towards the bridge that lead out of Ternli, it stumbled. The battle began and N'hara bolted into the fray first, fists thrumming with power from chakras and enchantments both. He, Huginns, and Orion assaulted its legs to cripple it while Edari let loose a hail of bullets. Reks and Zachary assisted in shielding and defense while Natja leaped into the air and brought her massive weapon down on it’s body like a guillotine. The slice cleaved the creature in half, dropping the body to the ground in a bloody mess.

Nobody expected that to be the end… especially not when coins and gems… and weapons began to fall from the sky.

Above them all, the red mists parted revealing the true lake of blood of Ternli. It began to rain, the blood falling to the ground and pooling into puddles.

The puddles began to shift and move, slowly rising up and taking hold of the fallen weapons as each puddle turned into a solider… a soldier in an army of the dead.

The group pulled itself into a defensive position, circling Orion, Reks, and Edari. Blade and fist, spell and bullet tore through one ashkin after another, their area attacks cutting vast swaths of the creatures down, but overwhelming numbers were still in favor of the monsters. Several moments of intense fighting had only reduced them down to about three fourths of their strength. The missing head of Apoplexy showed itself in that moment, decending from the sky in an explosion that rocked the wards and shattered them whole. The blood creatures converged on the head, as if to protect it from their advance towards it.

They wouldn’t give it any moment to grow stronger. If anyone could end the creature in a single strike, it was Natja and her murderous greatsword.

N'hara called upon all of his chakras and his internal aether to loose Lightbringer in its direction, cleaving a path towards it. Orion followed suit, using a summoned bird of flame to continue burning the path. Edari unleased a torrent of flames from a flamethrower. Zachary and Huginn burtalized ever more. Reks blessed the battlefield and shielded the viera.

Apoplexy broke from the head, reavealing itself with a roegadyn-looking body, but parts that looked like they came from the company’s various allies.

Natja, furious, made the charge. Her blade cleaved through everything around her, a ballet of glorious slaughter as he made her way to Apoplexy. The other teams were moving to intercept it; the piercer team shot a ballista bolt at it, halting its tracks. The wards team made a barricade to keep it from advancing out of the city any further.

The Astral Advent struck true. Blade and bolt and magic wrought utter destruction upon the creature, obliterating it in a moment just before its vile magics could try and kill all present. The blood vanished, the mists became just that, and the din of battle grew silent.

The day had been won.

The group took time to rest and recover, to bandage themselves up and recover at least a little bit of the strength they’d spent taking down the voidsent. A few were recruited to help collect some of the treasure that had fallen when the lake of blood dissipated. Although N’hara wasn’t much for collecting treasure after a fight, it certainly was a lot of money… and perhaps some of it could go to refilling the company’s coffers to compensate for all everyone was getting paid for their heroism.

N’hara mainly wanted a bath and a good night’s rest. With the voidsent gone, all things were sure to heal in time…

The members of the Astral Advent took some time off of their busy schedules to enjoy the Moonfire celebration. The light-spirited event was much needed given recent travails. 

There was a dose of healthy competition in the form of a water balloon fight tournament! Iex splashed his way to a victory over all the others. All in all it was a fun filled, sun filled day. 

Previously, the group had gone to investigate the cave that Mads had suggested his insane plot. Within the cave had been found a group of pale, white-clad individuals attempting to return the aether within the prisms to the land. Another, assassins emblazoned with the mark of a red skull, were seeking them out to take the prism’s power for themselves.

Naturally, the Astral Advent had a problem with this.

It came as quite a surprise, then, when one of them, a roegadyn man by the name of Slashing Tombstone, called out to the Astral Advent for help.

The group, composed of Natja, Orion, Gregos, Zachary, Iex, Reks, Autgar, Milo, Martin, Viktor, Sejad, Edari, Dylan, Jancis, and Kotoe Kawanami ventured to the Sea of Clouds where they had last done battle with the Red Skull group to parlay. The situation, as it turns out, had taken a grim turn. A voidsent had torn through their ranks and decimated them all, leaving only Slashing Tombstone left alive. Unable to muster up enough strength to destroy the voidsent, even with a prism crystal embedded in his arm, he sought out the Advent to form a temporary and uneasy alliance in the face of such a threat.

N’hara was hard-pressed to trust the word of a murderer who had traded blows with his company. He didn’t like the idea of a monster getting loose and rampaging around killing innocent people, but there were far too many ways for this to go wrong. Slashing Tombstone could take advantage of the group fighting the creature to kill them… if the creature existed at all and this wasn’t some attempt to catch them all in a trap.

A few ideas were tossed around, but the important truth quickly became known to the group:

If he was telling the truth, a voidsent with the power to wantonly slaughter innocent people couldn’t be suffered to let live. However, without knowing what kind of voidsent the group was dealing with, they couldn’t draw up any plans.

A consensus was reached and the Astral Advent agreed to spend what time they had left before the seal holding the voidsent Apoplexy back was broken. They would use that time to train, study their adversary, and plot out the best battle plan they could muster to bring it down and ensure it didn’t hurt anyone else.

Making sure Slashing Tombstone got his comeuppance was a secondary objective.

((Best read/skimmed with this music to accompany!)) 

In the Goblet, Breaker knocked on the door of the headquarters of a Free Company. 

In Neverreap, a red-haired Roegadyn washed blood from his face in a pool of water. 

At the Advent Hall, young Lerone leaned up from a lounging splay on a couch to look at a deck of cards.

At the Lavender Beds in Gridania, Berrod approached the Lily Hills apartments. In a dining hall, Rookmin and Sumintra sat before a rich meal, and looked to the other occupants of the table. 

At the Lavender Beds in Gridania, Berrod knocked on the door to one of the apartments. 

At the Advent Hall, young Lerone approached the deck of cards with a smile. 

In Neverreap, the red-haired Roegadyn looked at the rippling reflection of his face in the water. The blood had been washed off. 

In the Goblet, Breaker knocked more insistently. 

In a dining hall, Abraxas and Adelaide looked across the table to Rookmin and Sumintra, who offered the pair an uneasy smile. The sound of loud knocking startled them all. 

At the Lavender beds, the door opened, and a slender Elezen woman spoke to Berrod for a while.

At Advent Hall, young Lerone took the cards into their hands and shuffled them as they chanced a glance at the mirror and dropped the cards. 

In Neverreap, the red-haired Roegadyn reared up from the pool with a gasp. At the Goblet, the door Breaker was knocking on opened. 

In the dining hall, Abraxas, Adelaide, Rookmin and Sumintra looked at the empty chair of the one who had gone to open the door. 

At the Lavender Beds, Berrod continued to speak to the Elezen woman, and presented a white crystal to her.

At Advent Hall, Lerone stared in the mirror in horror as a wet-faced, Red-haired Roegadyn stared back at them. 

In Neverreap, the red-haired Roegadyn stared down at the pool of water, within which was reflected Lerone’s horrified face. 

At the Goblet, Mountain stood in the open doorway before Breaker, who began to beg.

The dining hall was behind Mountain, the four occupants of the table stared at the exchange. 

At the Lavender Beds, the Elezen woman broke down and dropped do her knees, clutching the crystal as Berrod went down to console her. 

At Advent Hall, Lerone grabbed a paperweight to throw at the mirror.

In Neverreap, the water rippled violently without being disturbed by the red-haired Roegadyn. 

At the Goblet, Mountain denied Breaker whatever he had asked, and closed the door, leaving the hyur to sink to his knees in despair in front of the house.

In the dining hall, the four occupants looked awkwardly at their meals as Mountain returned to the head of the table. 

At the Lavender Beds, Berrod held onto a sobbing Elezen woman.

At Advent Hall, Lerone shook violently as they stared at the frame of the broken mirror.

In Neverreap, the water stilled, reflecting the red-haired Roegadyn’s face once more.

At the Goblet, Breaker picked himself up to leave in disgrace.

The sun bore down on the salty shores of the Lochs. It was a dry, still day that the imposing fortress city of Ala Mhigo framed along the mountain lake’s edge. A pair of Highlanders stood upon the white-crusted dirt, not ten yalms from the deceivingly gentle lapping water. 

“You’re giving this to me, just like that?”

Berrod stared at the small, light blue crystal in the palm of his hand. The etched markings on it seemed to catch the light in a way that made him think it glowed. Did it? Did it not? It was hard to tell. He lifted an incredulous gaze to the woman who had just handed it over to him. She stood, tall and proud, her skin a rich brown, her curly black hair braided in intricate patterns along the side of her head that gave way to weighty locks on her shoulders. Her armour was a stunning combination of dark blue and golden coloured chain and plate that only served to accentuate the blazing amber of her eyes. Slowly, and with a knowing smile, she shook her head. “No, not just like that. You know what you have to do. We’ve trained for it. Now it’s time for you to stand and show me that it wasn’t in vain.”