#breidablikwield

“I’m not sure umbrellas will help us at all, Chrom... but I have extra towels on hand. We’ll probably be splashed.”

"If I’m being honest, I’ve stopped caring.”

Jonathan

Round 1: +3

Round 2: MISS

Jonathan gets a running start for his first swing, and makes it quite far! He makes a sizeable splash, getting the feet of some front row audience members wet and inspiring some claps from them all. His second swing, though, doesn’t go well. His hands slip on the rope and instead of swinging out over the water, Jonathan falls on his face in the dirt.

Round 3: NAT 20

Round 4: MISS

In an act of redemption, Jonathan sprints to the rope, grabs hold, and swoops his legs into not one, but two large back and forth swings to get himself even more lift. When he lets go, he soars over the water and dives in with an exciting jack-knife style that splashes all the way up to the moderators’ box. But his next swing misses again when he stumbles and loses his grip on the rope.

Round 5: +2

Bonus Round: +2

Even though he had some high scores and some misses, Jonathan does his best to see out the semi-final match as best he can. He gets two consistent, good scores for his next swings, splashing the audience more and bringing about cheers.

Score: 2.4

“Wow! Sir Jonathan had a perfect swinging dive! That was magnificent. Will Lady Ingrid be able to... make a bigger splash?”

"Probably. It’s fine. We’re fine. I’m fine.”

Ingrid

Round 1: +2 (FAVOR bonus)

Round 2: +1

Round 3: +4

Ingrid’s start is not nearly so dramatic, but she holds her own. Starting with her first swing, she gets pretty good distance and splashes enough to get the audience excited. Her second swing is not as far, but she manages a cannonball on her way down. Her third, though, it more theatrical, and Ingrid pushes off the pole that the rope is tied to for extra momentum before she swings forward and dives into the water.

Round 4: +1

Round 5: NAT 20

Trick-or-Treat Bonus Round: +1

Ingrid seems a bit winded from the last swing, so her fourth is not as strong, but she gets another cannonball in. She recovers energy for her fifth dive and gets enough of a swing to give her a dramatic swan dive into the water. The audience loves it, despite the lack of dramatic splash, and they cheer for her through her final swing.

Score: 2.8

“I know we’re all wet, but that was amazing! Both competitors had some spectacular swings and dives today.”

"GODS, WHY IS IT SO COLD? SOMEBODY GET ME A TOWEL-”

“A snowman?”

He quirked his brow. Rather PERPLEXED by Ingrid’s suggestion. The name of what she wished to build was self explanatory - Seliph could figure that much out. A man made of snow. Simple enough. But he wasn’t sure what sort of joy that would bring them. But...if playing in the snow and building a man made of it would bring some form of ENJOYMENT to the other. Then so be it.

So long as it took Ingrid’s mind off the war. Off the Surtr.

“Oh, there you are! I’ve not seen you yet today, and I’ve been a little worried... Even Lord Berkut hadn’t any idea where you might be!”

   You settle into the seat next to Ingrid, unable to help yourself from stealing a peek at the book she’s studying. You can’t read it, which you find strange. Everything in this library should be enchanted so that it’s accessible to anyone from any world, yet... You can’t make heads or tails of it. A book from Earth, perhaps? 

Múspell is hot. Unbearably so, almost.

Michalis is used to hot - the forests of Macedon become nearly jungle in some of the southern locales, and he’d traipsed through them more than once in his youth.

But this? This arid, dry heat withers his lungs. Sweat pools at the nape of his neck and behind his ears, and finally, Ingrid’s weight against him is too much.

“Summoner,” he begins, voice gruff and clipped as it always is outside of the confines of the company of the Order, “it’s hot. Get off. Help my coat off.”

When the light cleared, he stood amidst strange ruins, greeted by four figures dressed in golds and whites. Three of them stared at him in awe, those with blue, blonde and red hair, but the fourth who stood before him seemed to be inspecting him, as if trying to discern his strengths. As he came through the light, a voice had told him that a tactician from afar was summoning him to help aid in a war against a tyrant. He hefted his heavy blade onto his shoulder and pointed to the one who seemed to be at the head of this little troupe.

Everyone expected it to be something long, painfully drawn out, but no- no, it was quick, nearly painless, and even more devastating. Half of Macedon is on fire. Pegasi and wyverns alike cannot fly fast enough to escape flames nor lightning. Many crash while swerving, killing beast and rider.

The attack lasts but seconds, but the storms and fires last for days, and families flee into the palace, and no one is turned away until that last day, when their king must stand in out-of-season hail and make sure no one else was visibly travelling before shutting the doors for good.

People started dying within the first week as food stores ran empty quickly and the cold stayed. The hail didn’t stop, but armored generals went out in the storm to find ice-encrusted game preserved well.

Minerva’s angry, she blames him, and his hands shake because she’s going to be angry at him in her last moments like this, isn’t she? He apologizes and his voice breaks, shatters, and he’s crying and Minera doesn’t care, the anger doesn’t go away until her hand falls to her side--

“NO!”

Michalis shoots up in bed with the shout, tears running down his cheeks as he gets his bearings. He’s in Zenith, in his bed, and he’s just had a nightmare, that’s all it was. A nightmare.

Except it isn’t.

The creak of the door rouses him from his thoughts, and Michalis lifts his head to greet whoever has come in - but at this hour, it can only be one person.

“...Ingrid...”

“ To tell the truth... I am not completely comfortable with the idea of you taking part in these battles, Miss Ingrid. ”

He knows, however, that the words will fall on deaf ears. She has chosen to fight, and will not be swayed (the look in her eyes oft remind him of Erhardt - or perhaps even himself - after all). She has also likely heard similar from the others she has summoned here.

“ But ‘tis not my place to tell you what you should or should not do. Rather, quite the opposite. ”

A pause, as he contemplates his next words.