Larcei

on the bright side

“With a dagger inside…? Woah, how coooooooool!”

How innovative! Was it a damsel who’d come up with the idea? Some bright lady in need of some manner with which to defend herself from ne’er-do-wells in the streets? Or maybe it was some regal chap, a private eye with a nose for snooping where he didn’t belong, a real penchant for getting himself into trouble. A blade in a parasol - or a cane, even - would be less conspicuous than a dagger out in the open…

Ah. He was getting carried away. Like. Super carried away.

“Well, there’s always a first for everything,” Ewan teased with a grin and a twinkle in his eye, gripping his ‘weapon’ just that little bit tighter lest she knock it right out of his hand. A solid heft to her ‘blade,’ he’d do well not to underestimate her. Mind, he was more speaking for himself, given his past experiences attempting to wield any kind of non-magic weapon (atrocious, each and every one of them), but hey, he’d do his best to put up some kind of fight, at least.

> Roll: Nat 20! OvO

If Ewan had anything going for him here, it was that he was light on his feet-although that certainly was not to say that Larcei wasn’t- and, he definitely had a streak of mischief and curiosity both in him, each a mile long. And given what bit he’s seen of her swordplay… he’d need to take what advantages he could.

“Woah!” he glanced abruptly to the right, in mock surprise. “Who’s that!”

He lunged. And then… thwack! 

A smack aimed square in the side.

Larcei glanced to where Ewan looked, seeing nothing and receiving a whack for her efforts. Gods, his attack hadn’t been gentle either. 

“Hey! That’s unfair!” She hated to say it, but she’d been tricked. Such an obvious ruse too, how could she not be a little annoyed? She was used to fighting opponents head on, not these dastardly tactics. 

Well, Ewan wasn’t the only person with tricks up his sleeve… Larcei tried to form a plan in her mind of how she could make her next attack. Something cool, something impressive. Then it hit her! (an idea, not an umbrella). 

In theory, it was a great idea! She’d start to swing, holding the umbrella in her right hand. Then, when he was trying to block her attack, she’d quickly throw it to her left hand, and hit him where he least expected! 

In practice… 

> Roll: 3!

She threw the blade, but struggled to catch it, the sword slipping out of her hand. By the time she had control, Ewan had caught on to her attempted feint, and completely dodged everything. Damn. 

Pirate and Pumpkin

Through her own sobbing, Elincia realised she’d set Larcei off and feel a cold rush of guilt in her stomach. She squeezed the younger woman’s hand in hers, letting her know it was okay to cry. That she was there with her - both of them weeping as though their hearts were breaking into a thousand tiny pieces

But her parents were proud. Proud of the woman she had become. The queen who was never meant for the throne. She’d done enough to make them proud of her. From her father especially, that meant more than she could ever say in words. It meant she’d done enough to protect the people of Crimea, done enough to help their country prosper, for one and all. To bring peace and security to all, not just those with a deep coin purse or political influence. It was an endeavour that would take a lifetime but at least she was on the right track.

Larcei asked about her mother though and Elincia feels as if someone knocked the air right out of her lungs. Her friend had been holding out hope for so very long - was she truly ready to hear this?

It seemed as though she wasn’t; the Isaachian swordswoman collapsed against Elincia’s shoulder, crying out tearfully for guidance. What would she do now, knowing her mother wasn’t out there? It was cruel, needlessly cruel to tell her that! She wouldn’t even have been here, in this alley if it wasn’t for Elincia’s selfishness. All she can do is try to offer comfort and hope to a beloved, grieving friend. To try and give Larcei a reason to carry on.

“You– you travel then,” Elincia whispered between her own choked sobs. She wrapped her arm around Larcei’s shoulders, pulling the younger woman closer into a tight embrace. “Even if your mother passed on, she helped save this world, right? So that you could live a happy life. So you grieve and then you stand up. She’s with you - you can show her places and things she never saw herself. You live your life as the strong, proud and brilliant woman I know you are.” The Crimean pulled her friend in even closer, letting her cry into her shoulder.

“For now though, you can cry and scream and curse,” she spoke softly, voice hushed and gentle, “you let yourself feel broken and rotten, miserable and enraged. Only then can you start to heal.”

Silvery eyes stared at her as she rocked Larcei gently as the young swordmaster cried. She expected a vacant stare or even amusement, perhaps contempt? Elincia hadn’t expected the old crone’s eyes to be filled with unshed tears, soft and sympathetic in the moonlight. The anger she held for the wanton act of cruelty disappears upon her tongue.

“Your friend is right, young lady,” the woman’s voice comes out as a harsh rasp. It sounds brutal, like nails scratching a chalkboard. As though the act of speaking physically pains her. “Sometimes we need tought love. You’ll never heal from wounds that you keep wide open.” The old woman’s chest shakes and creaks as she lets out a few shuddering breaths before closing her eyes. Silence.

Ice runs through Elincia’s veins. If she was moving, breathing, then Elincia couldn’t see it.

“Madam?” Panic. Her voice hitches as she calls out again, reaching a hand out to shake the woman’s shoulder. “Madam? Please!”

Larcei clings on to her friend, nodding along to every word, though she struggles to take them in. Gods, why today of all days? There was a festival, this was going to be a fun day, she was all dressed up… and now here she was, sobbing her eyes out on the ground. 

It’s all too much. Sitting, thinking back on everything… how much effort has she expended, chasing a ghost? How many arguments with her brother, now meaningless? How many plans, wasted? Sure, she could travel, but what was the point anymore? The woman tells her she’ll be able to move forward from this but… in the moment, Larcei can’t believe it. 

It’s only Elincia’s panic that snaps her out of her misery. “Hey, are you alright?” Larcei takes the woman’s wrist, searching for a pulse. But it can’t be found. “H-hey, wake up…” Her skin is cold to the touch, there is no sign of movement within her… gods, there must be something they could do. Rushing into the crowd again, Larcei frantically calls for a medic. “Please! A woman collapsed, I need help!” 

Help arrives but… it’s too late. 

“I’m telling you, we were just talking to her!” The pair were now being questioned by a church official. “She told us she could speak to the dead, and then-” Her frustrations were evident through her tears. This was the fifth time she’d told the story… she just wanted to go home already. Be done with this nightmare.

“The autopsy shows she passed away over 8 hours ago.” The official claims. Well then the autopsy was wrong! From what Larcei could gather, the woman had been a real person, not just a phantom. An elderly woman, who’d lived a life of solitude in the nearby village. No family to speak of… but she had been there! Her raspy voice, her scarily accurate statements… all were ingrained in Larcei’s mind. 

sciamachy - gold round

This was it.

They were so close. Frederick was amazing, and Rhys told him so. “Wow, go get em!” That was a real expert with gauntlets. He had fun cheering on his team, but it wasn’t quite over yet. Rhys raised his fists again, this time at Leto. “I- I can do it!”

Rhys Rolls: 14, 10, -2HP. Leto HP: 1.5

Leto wasn’t going down without a fight.

Leto Light Breath: 13, -2.5 Rhys HP: 7.5/10

In fact, it doubled down on him the next chance it got, breathing its attack at him again.

Leto Light Breath: 18, -2.5 to Rhys. Rhys HP: 5/10

Rhys winced, unable to run or hide, so he had to fight. He went against all his usual instincts and rushed in. “Aaaah!” It was weak as war cries went, and about as loud as he thought he could be without invoking a cough or two. He dug in with the claws as Dimitri attacked out of the corner of his eye-

Rhys Rolls: 14, 3 -1.5HP, Leto HP: 0/10

“Dimitri, we can finish it together!”

Going for gold, the array of equipment she’s offered is overwhelming. With so much choice, she takes too long to choose, almost missing the battle as a result. In the end, she ended up keeping all her equipment from last round. Ah well… 

The final round goes by in the same flash the previous few did, Larcei cheering on her teammates as she looks for an opening. The enemies are monstrous and intimidating, but they’re no match for the four.

Through her teammates’ combined efforts, the first enemy falls, and the second is left on its last legs. Even so, it seemed unwilling to die, breathing attacks out of desperation. 

As Rhys is attacked the second time, Larcei rushes in. ”Let me help!”  And it seemed Dimitri had a similar idea, as the three of them attacked the creature simultaneously. With all the strength she could muster, she punches four times in succession. 

> Larcei uses monster crusher!

> Larcei rolls: 17, 14, 11, 5 (they’re already dead) 

Leto falls, and the battle is won.

Beaming from ear to ear, Larcei celebrates their victory, about to high five Dimitri before she realises she’s still holding the gauntlets. “Awesome work everyone!” 

Now, where’s their prize? 

sciamachy

A new round hard started, but rather than another group of phantoms manifesting to hound them all, a single presence made itself known. A wyvern lord, much stronger and well equipped than the previous wyvern rider that Dimitri had unceremoniously beaten to a pulp.

The memory itself sent shivers down his spine- he felt his control wavering in the last battle and was holding himself together so it wouldn’t happen again. Yet all he could attack this new enemy with were his horrifying gauntlets and a single reason spell- and the prince still wasn’t in control of his focus and the formulas enough to land a proper magic spell so far.

I can’t use the gauntlets again. I can’t. It’ll come out and they’ll see.

Attempting to distract himself, Dimitri’s gaze wandered through the team until they landed on Rhys, who seemed rather tired. Ah, he has done so much for us so far. I need to help him, too.

“Professor! Please, allow me to offer you aid.”

Dimitri casts Recover! Roll1D20= 3, +3HP! | Rhys HP= 8.5/10

It was a poor attempt. His mind was racing, his focus spinning out of control as he tried to keep everything at bay. Ignoring voices and grim familiar silhouettes in the corners of the room, he hadn’t been able to concentrate enough.

“I am sorry, professor…this attempt was embarrassing, I promise to do better next time!” Still, Rhys looked a bit better than before, so Dimitri at least felt he had been able to help him.

Dimitri sighed, not allowing himself to sit still for too long. Stillness invites unwanted thoughts and makes his body sore from the poison.

Dimitri is poisoned! | Dimitri HP= 8.5/10

@keen-kin​

As Rhys cast his spell, Larcei felt a sense of relief. She no longer felt any sickness, and although she still had some aches, she felt so much better. “Thank you!” She called out. 

As Dimitri went to heal Rhys, she saw an opportunity to attack. The enemy looked incredibly tough, but Larcei had confidence in her team. Frederick had already weakened it up, with an incredible 8-punch combo. 

Larcei didn’t know if she’d be able to pull that off, but she felt inspired by his moves, by the speed of his attacks. So as she rushed in, she strived not just for strength, but for speed. 

> Nimble combo used > Larcei rolls: 17, 22, 12, 13. 4 hits! (-8hp)

Four clean punches, and she leaped back to try and avoid a counter… 

A counter that never came. 

> Wyvern lord’s hp: 8 -> 0

As the wyvern lord faded away as all their previous foes had, Larcei looked around. Maybe there’d be reinforcements… but no. The round was over nearly as soon as it had started. And two of her allies still hadn’t recovered from the poison… 

Spiked Punches- Steel Round

        Since the last man standing had all but gotten his soul slapped out of him, Frederick almost considered stepping back for the Lord or Lady to do the final touches. Almost. He had, of course, the instincts of a knight who had trained all his life for moments like this. It was easier than breathing to him, as all the pieces fell into place and parted the very ocean for Frederick to get to his final destination. Frederick touched upon something he hadn’t since the first couple of rounds, rearing up for a full throttle attack to finish the poor soul up. 

        Burning with inspiration from Sir Rhys full spin attacks, Frederick watched as he landed one after another in a succession that would make even tornadoes envious. It touched upon untapped potential on the priest’s hidden talents, and though he may not have noticed it as of yet, he would have made for an impressive hand to hand combat fighter. And he wanted to join him in this spirit of combat. 

        “Pardon the intrusion! I’ll clean up these pebbles on the road!”

        He swung freely, blighting out any notion of a counter attack. Throwing out a ferocious punch, and then a second in no time flat, he felt each knuckle pierce into the projection with ease. Turning a half step, foot lightly sifting the dirt off the training grounds, Frederick rolled another gauntlet thrust into the figure’s chest. He breathed in once, absorbing a final ounce of strength that came with being amongst such coordinated strength.

        …And struck down the Valkyrie with a punch that thundered in finality. It rumbled as the projection shattered down to its feet, disappearing in that last forceful smash. Frederick watched the vision fade and finally remembered to unclench his jaw. 

Frederick rolled 13, 9, 7, 6. Valkyrie defeated! 

        “Ahhh, nothing like a clean battle, wouldn’t you say? I propose we prepare a strategy for the next round, students!” Clapping his hands together, he gladly stepped aside to gather his wits and return to his comrades’ sides. All in a day’s work!

       “Is everyone feeling alright? Do you need a quick patch up?” He was immediately back into his attendant mode, looking everyone up and down to check for damage and bruises. From the looks of it, Sir Rhys may have needed some tending to. And the others were still stirring about like they had remained poisoned from the last round. Well—such exceptional work required exceptional after care! And thus, they were on it!

@keen-kin​

Larcei cheered on her teammates as they fought. Dimitri defeated the wyvern rider as easily as she’d defeated the thief, in a terrifying show of power. The valkyrie fell soon after, before Larcei had a chance to attack again. 

“Great work everyone!” She went for a round of high fives, congratulating each teammate individually. To Dimitri: “That was incredible! Just what I’d expect from our house leader!” To Rhys: “Those were some great punches! Glad you joined the gauntlet gauntlet.” And to Frederick: “Thank you for your support!” 

Speaking of support, she was still feeling the effects of the poison. “I could use some healing, when one of you has the time.” But seeing how that round just went… it may just be quicker to get through the next two rounds and see a healer after that. 

That round felt amazing. Larcei felt that her team was unstoppable. How bad could the next rounds be?

Pirate and Pumpkin

Elincia squeezes Larcei’s hand in hers, rubbing her thumb over the back of her friend’s hand. She doesn’t move though, feeling rooted to the spot. The woman’s words are chilling but offer hope.

“What is the price you ask?” Elincia’s voice shakes. The woman smiles at her, gaps showing in between her teeth.

“All good things in time, my dear,” the woman whispers. Her bony hands steeple in front of her and her eyes look glassy and milky. As though they’re unfocused on her and Larcei. As if they’re seeing something else, something beyond. “Around you I see a King, gentle hearted and wise. He holds his Queen’s hand tenderly. They want you to know they’re proud of you. That it wasn’t your fault - isn’t your guilt to bear.” She can’t move a muscle, not from fear but anguish. It feels as though her heart is breaking all over again - as though Ashnard has crashed into their room in Castle Melior, sword in hand. Elincia can see the way her father’s head rolls across the floor, how her mother drops to the floor, chest crushed by the blade. Tears stream down her face and she gasps for breath. It’s been three years and the wounds are just as raw as the day after.

“Mother, Father –” Elincia finds herself sobbing uncontrollably. She can’t stop shaking. She had been seconds away from comforting Larcei but now she finds her legs give way and she sinks to the floor. “I’m so– I’m so sorry.” It should have been me. It should have been me! IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN ME!

“Elincia!” Larcei runs to comfort her friend, falling to her knees to embrace the girl. Tears start forming in her own eyes, then they begin to flow. “Elincia…” Larcei understands the weight on her shoulders, how she must feel… no, Elincia still had memories of her parents, their loss indescribable, and now… “They’re proud of you, right? Lincie?” The girl trembles in her arms, and Larcei can only show support by crying with her. 

“Your parents are proud of you too, dear.” The woman speaks, and Larcei looks up to her. She chuckles quietly. “Ah, your father is in tears trying to describe his pride. I believe he’s trying to say you’ve grown up into a wonderful woman, isn’t that lovely?” 

It was lovely. She’d never known her father, but knowing he was proud… It was lovely, but overwhelming. Larcei took a deep breath, trying to hold back tears. The more the woman spoke, the less Larcei could deny her words. But if she spoke the truth then… Larcei exhaled, before taking another breath, and held it for a few seconds… 

“And what does my… mother say?” 

The woman sighed, with a slight smile on her face. “She says… you’re the best daughter she could ever dream of…” Upon hearing those words, Larcei began to sob, harder than she ever remembered. She’d always wanted to hear her mother says those words yet… not like this. Never like this. She’d always managed to hand onto hope, onto that small possibility that she was alive… she’d just been deluding herself. For all these years. 

Fight or Flight- Iron Round

Rhys was fully in healer mode. He ran to Dimitri again, hoping to stave off anyone getting too hurt again for as long as possible.

“Here you go!”

Rhys Roll: 15, +6, Dimitri HP: 10/10

He smiled. “Go get them! You’re doing great!”

@keen-kin

One final enemy, one final push. It all seemed simple… 

However, as Frederick’s flames enveloped the brawler, Larcei became uneasy. The phantom became more agitated, and seemed more focused, somehow. Larcei could only guess what this meant. 

She charged in after the flames dispersed, hoping to defeat it before it made a move. 

Larcei rolls: 5, 11. Barely hit and hit (-2hp) Brawler rolls: 8, 16. Hit and hit (-1hp) Larcei has been poisoned

Ugh… her punches hadn’t been enough. And with his counter, Larcei started to feel sick. And now the brawler was shaping up for his next attack. Gods, this wasn’t good… 

“Hey, watch out.” She yelled as a warning. Hopefully it would be enough. 

Larcei’s hp: 10 -> 9 Brawler hp: 4 -> 2

Fight or Flight- Iron Round​​

        By no small effort, Sir Rhys and Lord Dimitri had carried out most of the grunt work before he even had a word’s width of conversation. Goodness! Such brutality from the enemies should have been accounted for, yes but—he was rather glad he managed to heal the lord before charging off in the next direction. Now, while the others were still in rather good shape, he better lay stake towards his chance at combat. And from the very tick in his hands, he knew just what to use.

          Splinting his hands open, he attempted a lengths at which he had never done before. Such was the opportunity of illusions! Reminded of the lick of flame, to which he normally had no query towards during nightly campaigns, Frederick brushed up those memories for his strength. It must be pronounced! That scarlet light! It must be wonderfully handsome, vibrant and true! As a faint glow began to grow in his palms, Frederick excitedly exclaimed, “Now look here! Such delightful power at the palm of my hands!”

         He had kept his zeal tempered long enough! The sparks grew immensely, drawing up rapid spirals of lively heat and passionate flame. And rushing towards the dark mage, of whom had made quite the mess of his companions, he flung the little sun in his hands right towards its dark heart.

 "Too late! There are no confessions after death!“

Frederick rolled 20! Critical hit! Dark Mage HP: 0/5. Defeated!

         Oh, how pleased Cordelia would be when she heard this! He would have to pen Lord Chrom and Lady Lissa immediately! As his foe’s body was engulfed in flame, he watched as it faded away like it had never really existed. Such were the stakes here. Whatever came their way would meet an end quite brilliant.

@keen-kin​

“Nice work guys!” Larcei cheered on her team as the dark mage faded away. Seemed like the change in equipment had done everyone good. Last round had been pretty painful, but now? Larcei had been healed almost as soon as she’d been hurt! And they were also making mean work of their new enemies, despite the increase from 2 to 3.

Not wanting to lag behind the other’s good work, Larcei stared down the cavalier again. This time, she’d make sure it stayed down. Sprinting towards the horse, she attempted to use the technique she’d used (somewhat successfully) in the last battle.

Fading blow used Larcei rolls: 7, 19. Hit and critical hit! (-6hp!) 

Almost as if by instinct, Larcei leaped into the air and did a front flip, fists extending towards the rider. Her first blow was good, but her second knocked him off the horse! He faded away as he hit the ground, and the horse disappeared along with him. Larcei made a good landing, and stood up, huge smile on her face. 

“Only one left!”

Cavalier hp: 3 -> 0!

Fight or Flight- Iron Round

Thankfully, all had gone well. The enemies were strong, but their team had prevailed.

Well, most of their team, at least. Dimitri watched the battle’s end from his spot by a pillar, sore and tired but with his eyes on the battle ready to cheer for his still-standing teammates. His fall had been an embarrassing mistake regardless, perhaps if he had managed to dodge those attacks the battle would’ve ended faster and his teammates wouldn’t have suffered additional damage.

Maybe this, maybe that. But the training wasn’t over yet, as not too long after another group of enemies manifested before them. Definitely stronger than before, judging by how everyone was being urged to switch weapons.

+4HP from Rhys’ Recover. | Dimitri HP= 4/10

Right after, Rhys had come to his aid again- the healing magic quickly soothing the worst of his injuries and restoring some of his lost energy. Despite not feeling fully rested, Dimitri at least felt like he could stand up and fight again. It was better than nothing, and he smiled at the priest. “Ah, Rhys…thank you. I promise to do better next time.”

“But…wait! Allow me to properly thank you for your work, please. Uhh, how do I do this…” The prince looked around and fetched a staff. He had never tried magic before, let alone healing- his magic prowess had always been quite pitiful. He didn’t even know what his natural affinity was.

But again, he had barely tried casting spells in his life. Grasping the staff, Dimitri closed his eyes and in his mind tried to recall a healing spell he had been taught in class before.

Dimitri casts Recover! Roll1D20= 16, +6HP! | Rhys HP= 12/12

It felt weird and warm, but something in him felt that it had somehow worked. “Woah! Uhm…I hope I did this right…well, let us begin.”

@keen-kin or @dutybounded​

They’d made it to the second round! In the small break they had, Larcei decided to swap out her iron gauntlets for a shinier, spikier pair. She’d also been offered a strength boosting snack, which she gladly accepted.

“Glad to have you back.” She said as Dimitri returned to the arena, freshly healed. It seemed everyone had decided to switch things up a bit. Seemed like she was the only one not equipped with a tome now. 

She’d punched her way through the first round, and she’d keep punching now. Her first target was the cavalier, who had taken up the very lance Rhys had discarded. 

Larcei rolls: 13, 6. Hit and barely hit! (-2hp) Cavalier roll: 13 (-1hp)

Have you ever tried to punch a horse? Because the moment she rushed forward, Larcei realised she hadn’t. Things went surprisingly smoothly, all things considered. She got one good hit in, one meh hit in… but she could already feel the difference from last round! 

Her opponent retaliated, and lightning coursed through her arm. Thankfully, this magic was weaker than what she’d faced last round. “That was nothing!” She exclaimed. “We’ve got this round in the bag guys!” 

Larcei hp: 7 -> 6 Cavalier hp: 5 -> 3

       “Agh! Lord Dimitri!” Frederick laments the loss of their comrade, far too early into their campaign. With some good will, he does stay conscious, but he seemed out of commission for the time being. Somehow, it feels like a failure on Frederick’s part. He’s obviously not Lord Chrom, but he, like any other Lord, must be protected for the sake of his regional prevalence. And as a professor…. as a knight, it was wrong to stay up while the Lord was taken down. “Please! Do rest.”  (He’d have to retrieve his treats or a healing staff after battle for the poor lad. And while he had the compulsion to do so right now, the battle was already underway.)

         He has little to account for in his time here. He needed to pick up any wary predisposition and clear out this space for the next round, lest Lady Larcei and Sir Rhys become further targets to these projections and their spite. Reading his oven mitts thrice over, he noticed that they were beginning to tatter just a bit from the wear. (He was utterly petrified! These were Cordelia’s…) But it was better to make it out conscious than utterly knocked out of the leagues. “Very well then! Taste my wrath!”

Frederick rolled 13. -1HP to troubadour. Troubadour’s HP: 0.5/10 HP

        Pulling his fist back, he dashed straight into the troubadour for a full throttle, forcing his entire back into the punch. He felt the vision’s bones crack beneath the impact, and oh, how relieved he was! If there was any force to his punches now, he might just make it out in one piece. Glancing over at his comrades, everyone was still in tip top order, now all he had to do was— ngh! 

Troubadour blocked Frederick’s 6 roll. Counters for 6. Frederick’s HP: 6/10 HP

        He had the upper hand! What foul moves! Had he been any slower the enemy would have beat his skull in! Frederick steadied his breathing, preparing for his wits for the next round. It was beginning to make him feel a bit incompetent– what, with this poor aim and a loss of a comrade. He had to wipe this clean off his records, before long.

@keen-kin​

One member down already, they’d have to put their all into the final stretch. So it was lucky that Larcei was their healer’s next target. “Thank you!” As Rhys’ spell hit her, Larcei felt a new surge of strength run through her. The lingering pain faded, her aches left her, life seemed good.

Until the troubadour attacked again. 

The troubadour attacks Larcei Troubadour roll: 17. Hit Larcei’s hp: 8 -> 6

Ugh, not again… she was too far away to make a good counter, but that didn’t mean she wouldn't attack it again. It seemed so weak now, a gust of air would kill it… 

And it certainly seemed to. Before she had a chance to move, the troubadour just… disappeared. It faded away like a fire being blown out. It was definitely convenient but… “What?” 

Both enemies take 0.5 poison damage Archer’s hp : 5 -> 4.5  Troubadour’s hp : 0.5 -> 0!

Confused, Larcei turned her attention towards the archer. She ran forward to make a punch, but there was a certain hesitation. What if this one faded away too? 

Larcei rolls: 4, 18. Miss and Hit! (-0.5hp) Archer roll: 9. Barely hit…(-1hp)

Her first swing only passed through air. Not due to spontaneous dissipation, but because Larcei just missed. Her second attempt was far more successful. By now, she’d fought the archer enough to figure out how he shot. She wasn’t able to dodge the arrow, but she was able to deflect it. A little painful, but it could be worse. 

She glanced to her remaining teammates. “Only one left!” 

Larcei’s hp: 6 -> 5 Archer’s hp: 4.5 -> 4

Pirate and Pumpkin

Hearing Larcei speak of her own loss moved Elincia’s heart. Their discussion had turned quite somber, despite the intent to celebrate today. She’s about to reach out and squeeze her friend’s hand when Larcei begins to grin and joke about being scared of the dark. Elincia can’t be sure she’s actually telling the truth but it doesn’t really matter either way - she returns the swordswoman’s smile with one of her own and gestures for them to leave.

They find levity outdoors, thanks to the projectionists prodigious skill. It was approaching summer quickly at Garreg Mach and yet… it looked positively autumnal. The place looked eerie, almost as though it was a haunted house from a novel or painting. Her attention was caught immediately by the fish, glowing in the dark pond, ethereal and unsettling. Their movements were captivating as they danced through the water and she could have stayed there for hours. They were mesmerising, truly.

The pair of them are approached by a group of children with eager smiles on their faces and Elincia decides to light herself up for them. The trick goes down a treat with the kids but she finds herself blushing crimson when Larcei joins in the oohing and aahing. The children turn their attention to the dashing pirate too, one even begs to be allowed to wear her hat!

As they make their way to the marketplace, Elincia finds herself more and more impressed with the projectionists magic - everything feels so bright and alive! The stalls are overflowing with delights, from trinkets and games for prizes to sweets and delectable meats. Each step she takes there’s even more to consider indulging in and she has no idea where to start. That is until she comes across an alley off the side of the street. There’s nothing particularly interesting about it in and of itself but a figure is slumped over there. An elderly woman, with the most piercing eyes Elincia has ever seen. Common sense tells her to flee - that nothing good can come of this woman. She’s never been able to turn her back on people in need though.

“Excuse me, ma’am?” Her voice quivers slightly as she takes tentative steps forward. It feels as though the air has been sucked out of her lungs and she shivers despite the fact the weather is quite balmy. The old crone’s mouth twists in to a grin as Elincia asks, “Are you alright? Is there anything we can do to help you?”

The woman began to speak, but in such a hushed tone that Larcei could barely make out her words. Larcei inched closer, hand drifting towards her sword. Just in case. Her skin was dry, withered, and she was thin as a rake, but Larcei stayed cautious. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that. Please could you repeat what you said?” In response, the woman glared directly into Larcei’s eyes. 

“I speak to the dead.” 

It took a moment for her words to register. What did that even mean? Did she mean like, a prayer? Somehow, she didn’t see this woman as a priestess. 

“The pair of you have experienced much loss, have you not?” The woman continued, glancing between her and Elincia. “The spirits of the dead linger over you, watching you… I can tell you what they have to say… if you are willing to pay the price.” 

The dead were watching her? Larcei felt a chill run down her spine, and she startledly looked behind her… to see nothing but the festivities going on around them. There was no way. Yes yes, she’d heard the tales. Spirits seen by the sea, ladies in lakes, phantom horses… but this had to be a trick. She’d seen these types before, they claimed to talk to the dead, to provide closure. But all they did was steal the money of those who were desperate enough to believe. “And who lingers over me?” She asked, not expecting a good answer. 

“I see… a man. He is tall, towering even. His armour is scorched, yet he still wears it with pride.” Already, Larcei’s mind was racing with questions. The description seemed generic, yet she already knew who was being described. “Green, blue… and he says” Larcei knelt down in front of the woman, ready to hear her words. “He loves you.” 

Even if logically, she shouldn’t believe it… Larcei felt the tears begin to form in her eyes. She was about to thank the woman, but she continued. “And next to him, a woman.” No. “She looks just like you,” No no no, “except with longer hair.” But, but if this woman told the truth… and, and she was, was talking to the dead… then that meant… 

“We should leave.” Larcei darted up, and grabbed Elincia’s hand, trying to pull the two of them away from this cursed alleyway. “She’s, she’s a- a liar. She, she can’t-” But her friend didn’t move. “Lincie?” 

Fight or Fright

        It happens to the best of us, Lady Larcei manages to comfort him before striking her foes yet again. What a strong-willed woman… if she was among them, he had to, at the very least, make sure he wasn’t left in her dust. Gesturing in good will and lending his support as she fended off her enemies, Frederick volleyed a few words of frankness. “Indeed! Though I would hope that I would be able to help you, if only a little!” Truly dissatisfactory work on his end! What would the gods say to this?         “Sir Rhys, steady your arms a bit! Might it be that you— “ His entire body braced itself as the man raised a shock-stick instead of a staff in his direction. Grimacing, Frederick’s disposition for instruction shined through. Really! There was no need for such unprofessionalism in training! He’d have to invite the man to one of Frederick’s Fanatical Fitness Hours to get him on the right track. “Sir Rhys! If you are so nervous in battle, you may very well injure your comrades! Please, do stay behind me and straighten up!”

        Though, he did feel quite grateful that he managed to iron out his issues by the tail-end of that fiasco. “Oh. Ehem.” Clearing his throat, he thought perhaps he had been too harsh on the man. It wasn’t like he was any better, with the oven mitts and parasol in his repertoire. “Thank you, Sir Rhys, I greatly appreciate it. I…I apologize for my harshness earlier.” 

        Lord Dimitri, with no wonder as to his prowess, had practiced swinging with gauntlets soon after. Perhaps it was because they were both on unnatural territory that Frederick empathized quite a bit. With one swing square on its mark and the second swing missing, the Lord held his ground in proper. And following in his weighty motion, right from behind, came Frederick in full swing. 

“The Gods didn’t hear you? Then you’re at my mercy!”

Frederick rolled a 20. Critical Hit. Troubadour HP: 3.5/10 HP Remaining

        He heard a crunch as his fist bruised the man in a curved hook to the nose. There were certainly bones to be broken, weren’t there? If only he had come prepared with proper gauntlets… surely he’d have cleared the way for the others! Upon his second swing, his arms met air and he grimaced. Why was it that he was so heavy footed when it came to hand-to-hand combat? Was it because he had become too accustomed to horseback combat? 

        Before he could say another word, however, the Troubadour doubled back and smited him with their steeled blade. Dastards! The lot of them! He couldn’t bring these injuries home! It would be a disaster to explain to her…

Troubadour countered with 18! Hit! Frederick HP: 7/10 HP Remaining

@keen-kin​, @prhyst​

Both enemies take 0.5 poison damage Archer’s hp : 3.5 -> 3 Troubadour’s hp : 5.5 -> 5

Whatever poison coated Dimitri’s axe, it was doing a good job. Throwing such a weapon aside seemed a little wasteful, but it meant that now three members of the team wielded gauntlets (well, two members and a chef). 

Speaking of the chef, he’d just thrown a magnificent punch, with an equally cool one-liner. “That was awesome!” She called out in encouragement. 

Whilst the troubadour was still hunched over in sickness (could apparitions experience such things?), Larcei made her next attack. She couldn’t waste such a critical opening. Come on Larcei, punch like that man just punched. 

Larcei rolls: 17, 20. Hit and critical hit! (-1.5hp) Troubadour roll: 12. Hit…(-2hp)

Her first blow was easy and effective, but the second sent the troubadour crashing to the ground. Larcei was almost ready to celebrate a complete victory, but the phantom persisted, shooting out a spell as it clambered back to its feet. 

It hurt like hell. Larcei had never been good at taking magic attacks, and this was no different. Her body burnt up where she’d been hit, and she staggered back before it tried again. 

Though with any luck, it wouldn’t have the chance. “Ok, I think that one’s almost dead.” 

Larcei’s hp: 6 -> 4 Troubadour’s hp : 3 -> 1.5

Fight or Fright

        Relief settled in soon after his rush of exhilaration—there was always something to be grateful for when healers came onto the scene in full glory. Sir Rhys had everything in order, healing up the lord of their company to good shape. And goodness! Lady Larcei certainly lived up to her name! He was rather entranced by the very energy of their comradery, as they parried and lit up their battle ground in spirited motions. However, he needed to ready himself for their next plan of action. For success in one round did not mean anything if the battle was lost overall. 

        “Quite right! There is always the trappings of underestimating your enemies. We better keep ourselves prepared for the worst.” Frederick, of course, always had preventative measures in mind. If he were to make it to the next round of battles, he had to be sure to ask for better weapons this time around! It wouldn’t do to continue down a road of oven mitts and parasols! Especially if his comrades in arms were fighting for their lives out there. In measured steps, he found his center of gravity, grounding himself and targeting the archer with a quick one-two.

        And missed. What righteous irony, this was… “Ghastly performance.” He clicked his tongue, disappointed in his sorry display in front of the others. It was a rather fortunate thing that they were all respectable folk, but still… He was not in the leagues of letting himself go so easily, when there was so much more he could manage. “Again then!”

         With another left hook, the archer dodged and slithered away from his grasp, leaving him a failed husk of a fighter. He cursed his lack of training up until now, for it was not luck that could have possibly brought him such shameful results. This couldn’t do! This couldn’t do at all! “By all means, they’re quite capable, aren’t they?”

         He worked up a sweat, feeling tiny beads well up on his forehead. What would Lady Lissa say if she saw him like this? Laugh, probably? He had to better himself, and quickly, or else her inevitable arrival to the school might begin with her calling his knighthood to an end. Not that she was so harsh as he was so self-flagellant. Distracted by his busy thoughts, the archer slung a single close ranged arrow and landed a shot right where his left shoulder was still reeling back. 

 Missed twice! Archer remains at 8HP. 

Rolled 16 for Archer counter. Hit Frederick for 2 HP. Frederick’s HP: 8/10 HP remaining.

        “Argh!” With such a direct hit, he was unsurprised that even a projection could manage to shock him into a stunning sort of pain. Was it supposed to hurt like this? He had to be careful (and for once, he was glad his wife was not taking part in these frivolous events!) lest his weight become burdensome for the others. “I will shake it off. Do be careful everyone! Let us not lose this synchronized energy!”

@prhyst​, @keen-kin

Larcei knew all too well how embarrassing it was to miss such an easy seeming target, so she had some sympathy for Frederick. “Happens to the best of us.” She said, in a reassuring tone. “You’ll get ‘em next time.” He had already done so well, despite his… odd choice in weaponry. 

For her own part, Larcei felt she was doing well herself, stumble notwithstanding. For her next attack, she decided to go back to the basics. She’d made every hit count so far, she hated the idea of breaking that streak now. 

Ok. Step forward, arms ready, one-two! 

Larcei rolls: 9, 10. Hit and hit! (-1hp) Archer roll: 14. Hit…(-2hp)

Larcei winced as she was struck with an arrow once more. Her hits had landed smoothly as before, but her dodging skills hadn’t improved at all. Ah well. 

She wasn’t an expert on phantoms, but their opponents seemed to be getting more worn down by the second. Just a few more rounds of blows, and the first round should be in the bag! 

Things were still looking good… but she wouldn’t mind some healing soon. 

Larcei’s hp: 8 -> 6 Archer’s hp : 8 -> 7

Pirate and Pumpkin

“Hmm, I think you mentioned it briefly but spill!” Elincia enthused as she tries to carefully manoeuvre herself out of the door. Her costume may not be the most practical but she’d toiled away for hours on the gourd, using different fabrics for texture and painting the carved face on the front. When she concentrated, she could conjure a little light magic to sit in front of the jack-o’-lantern’s “mouth” as if it was really lit up. Hopefully the children in town would love the costume as much as she did!

She hangs on to Larcei’s every word, a slight chill running down her spine. The thought of the dead not being at peace made her uneasy but a beautiful horse, galloping happily across the plains was more awe-inspiring than scary. She waits on bated breath as Larcei mentions staying there herself.

The fact she didn’t see the triumphant steed in all it’s glory is a little bit of a let down. It’s hardly Larcei’s fault it was shy though. (Or simply a myth, passed down through oral traditions from men and women who had seen mist dancing late at night and confused themselves). The eerie feeling she mentions though… Elincia had felt something similar before. Not in a haunted house or ghost hunting but in Castle Melior’s walls. In the master bedroom, the throne room - it seemed as if traces of her mother and father still lingered, their lives cruelly cut short by Ashnard’s blade. Elincia prays regularly that they’re at peace. That maybe they’re just watching over their daughter from to time to make sure she’s happy and healthy.

The thought of them being in pain, suffering and alone nearly causes her to cry on the spot.

She holds back her tears though and smiles at the story. It sounds exciting, honestly, to enter somewhere the dead still tread. “Were you scared?” she asks, although Elincia doubted anything could really terrify Larcei. Drawing from her own experience, she continued on. “When you say eerie… was it as though someone or something was there with you? Not necessarily a threat but something out of place in the world of the living?”

Finally squeezing her way outside without damaging her costume, she grins at Larcei’s compliment. She understood why it sounded silly - people usually dressed as monsters or dangerous mages and pirates for the harvest festival. Or cute animals. A pumpkin was… a little out of left field but she felt it brought together the spooky traditions and the gratitude to the harvest spirit in one costume. Besides that, it was unique - she doubted any of her classmates would be wearing a similar outfit.

“Hehe, don’t worry! I know what you mean and,” Elincia paused, taking in Larcei’s proud form. Both dashing and prepared for battle should anything go awry. “I love your fusion of style and practicality.“

“Shall we head out? I hope the children like our costumes as much as we do!”

“It wasn’t scary, but…” Larcei sighed. “My father died on those plains, along with countless other soldiers.” And out of all the options, a horse came back as a ghost. “It didn’t even look like a battle had taken place,” no scorched earth, no bodies, no trace of the skirmish, “it was just a field…” No ghost horses galloped around, no warriors rose from the dead to give their advice, yet the weight of their loss enveloped the entire surroundings. “And there were no ghosts.” 

Wow, this evening was meant to be fun, and the mood had already taken such a dark turn. “I’m also afraid of the dark!” She smiled, trying to laugh the situation off. “Maybe that was my only problem.” She considers continuing the horse story, hey, some people claimed to see the horse burst into flames, that was cool… but she can’t bring herself to. 

Besides, the more time they spent chatting about these things would give them less time to enjoy the evening! 

Stepping outside, Larcei barely recognised the monastery. It had gone through a complete transformation in such a short span of time, it was truly impressive. Orange lights decorated every path, running up pillars and walls alike. There was no empty corner, strange creatures and phantoms prawled among the streets alongside the students. Even the sky was filled with activity, witches flying on broomsticks alongside the wyverns and pegasi. 

“I’ve never seen anything like this!” Larcei exclaimed. “Do you think that projectionist lady did all of this herself?” She took Elincia’s hand as they walked through the crowds, so that they wouldn’t lose each other. “Woah, look at the pond!” The water was dark as it was on any night, yet each and every fish glowed bright, creating an entrancing sight, that many children had gathered to admire too.

And just like the fish, Elincia’s costume lit up, as if by magic (well ok, it was probably magic). She gained several ooos from the gathered kids, and Larcei couldn’t help but join in. “Now that’s really awesome!” If there was a costume contest, Larcei had no doubt that her friend would win. 

In the marketplace itself, rows of shops had been set up, all selling their enticing goods. “Hey Lincie, you wanna get some sweets first?” Yet, she got no response. “Lincie?” She followed her friend’s gaze to an alley, where an old lady sat, with eyes that stared into their very souls. 

Starter for @amicitium

“Did I ever tell you about the phantom horse of Belhalla?” Larcei asked, putting the final touches on her costume. She’d thought of many ideas, but ultimately decided to dress as a pirate. It hadn’t been too difficult to make. Besides the cool hat, most of it was clothes she already owned. Purple looked good on her, she thought.  

“Story is, if you go to the plains of Belhalla at night, you’ll see the most beautiful horse. Huge, white as snow, faster than any living creature, the sorta horse a king would ride. And no matter what you tried, you wouldn’t be able to even touch it! It’d just ride around ‘til the sun came up.” 

“I stayed in Belhalla for a bit with friends, so one night we went out to try and find it. Never saw it, but it sure was an eerie feeling.” 

Part of her outfit was wearing several belts at once, which felt a little weird at first, but proved useful for carrying weapons. Larcei hung both a sword and a dagger at her side. Not that she was planning to use them of course, but it added to the look.