#falchrom

She hated the dark. Or, well, she didn’t really hate the dark-- not always. But darkness like this, closed and cloying, the weight of dread settling in your lungs and weighing upon your heart? Maria hated this kind of dark. 

At least she was awake for this, and the cold was less noticeable after having come from the floor above. Still, with the utter darkness now and the human shaped hole in the ice earlier... something was out here, she was sure-- probably something she had tried to save. Her stomach twisted; she had only wanted to help. 

“I’m going up there,” the little princess whispered, voice hushed by the mood. Flashing one last smile at the group (could they even see it?), she darted ahead on light feet, sticking as close to the wall as she could. Nothing rose from the gloom to trip her or trap her, but still. She couldn’t shake the feeling that it would.

@falchrom | Any Skill +1

Mitama grumbles to herself as she unfastens the gauntlets around her hands. If they were going to have them exchange weapons upon arrival, why did they not warn them before hand so that she did not waste her time putting the damnable things on.

She huffs a sigh and looks around. Already, people have shuffled off to pairs and exchanged weapons, as demonstrated by a few cautious swings or clumsy fumbles.

The proposition makes sense, in theory. But Mitama cannot help but wish they had done so with a smaller group.

Stepping out of the way of someone stumbling under the weight of their newly found axe, Mitama looked around for the group to spot an unclaimed partner. Eventually, her eyes landed on an unfamiliar man with blue hair carrying a sword.

Well. She supposed that would do.

Starter for @princessmacedon

The carnival is in town! Nothing like a little truancy and fried treats of your choice to spend away an entire afternoon… And giant, stuffed plushes and shiny prizes catch your eye. “Play a game?” The booth attendant holds out a rickety toy bow. How hard could it be? [Grants Bow +1]

Arriving back at the Monastery had been a blessed relief after his time up north in the country of Sreng. If he never had to visit those frozen wastes again, he would be very happy. He was grateful to all his fellow students and staff on their team sent up there by the Church of Seiros, especially Maria who had saved his life on multiple occasions. Not only had the healer fixed his various wounds he’d acquired when traversing the floors of the bunker, in the final battle she’d used her magic to block an attack he was certain would have finished him off. Chrom wanted to thank her for this.

They’d been back at the monastery about a week when an opportunity presented itself when a carnival set itself up in the town. Chrom had fond memories of visiting a travelling fair with his sisters back home in Ylisse. He decided to go take a look at it, see if it was worth it before asking anyone to come too.

The carnival was easy to find, an array of colourful tents and flags filled the market square. Members of the fair, dressed in equally bright garb as their tents, were shouting into the crowd to encourage folk to try out their games and rides. Passing by one booth, Chrom spotted a neat row of prizes along the back wall including some giant stuffed plush and other trinkets. The sort of thing he could gift someone he wanted to thank …

“Play a game?” The stall holder enquired, noticing the Ylissian’s attention on his wares. He held out a small bow towards Chrom who saw that the game itself was some sort of shooting gallery. He’d hunted back home and was a fair enough shot.

“Sure, I’ll give it a go. If you could give me half an hour, there’s someone I want to bring along.” He said, before rushing back to Garreg Mach.

Upon retuning from his brief excursion, he went looking for Maria to invite her to go with him. He felt that the princess would enjoy an afternoon off, a chance to relax after the previous month. He came across Maria in one of the rose gardens.

“ Erm… hey. I noticed there’s a carnival in town and it’s got . Have you been to one before?”

Chrom was aware that he was rambling slightly but outside of battle he found it hard approaching those of the female persuasion. Wiping his hands on his cloak, he tried again.

The Pegasus Moon gets its name from the herds of wild pegasi that flock to their snowy nesting grounds. Nestled in the tall mountains, Garreg Mach sees plenty of snow-white pegasi come wintertime. This year, however, the school is abuzz with news that a flock of black pegasi have stopped close by, searching for a suitable place to nest. Their feathers are of particular interest to certain students, as they are said to amplify a mage’s power. With final exams just around the corner, many are looking for a little boost to their power. [Grants Reason +1]

Even though she's only been at the academy for a short time, Deirdre has heard the gossip about the black pegasus flock many times already. It must truly be a beautiful sight to see a flock of wild pegasi but a rare black flock would be breathtaking! With the supposed magical properties of the feathers, she's determined to set out and see them in person. If she could get her hands on a few of the magical, goth, Extra feathers, they'd be a perfect gift for the magical, goth, Extra man in her life!

It wouldn't be fair to gather feathers without bringing the pegasi a treat in return. After tea one afternoon, Deirdre fills her pockets with the extra sugar cubes. She notices one of her classmates watching her curiously and turns to give him a shy smile. "Have you heard about the pegasi flock that is nesting nearby? I would love to see them and well, horses like sugar, do they not?"

Chrom adjusted the pack slung over one shoulder and looked up at the imposing towers and walls which made up Garreg Mach Monastery. It had been a long journey from his home in Ylisse to the continent of Fódlan but if he was going to attend a military academy then he wanted it to be the best. The Officer’s Academy was renowned throughout for its quality of teaching and class of future leaders.

Besides it wasn’t as though he was unused to time on the road, having spent the past year since coming of age roaming around the countryside of his own nation. With his dear sister Emmeryn running the halidome in his absence, he had taken the opportunity to travel with his band of knights, The Shepards, to get to know the land and its people. Chrom wanted to understand the problems they faced in their day to day lives so he could better aide them once he returned to the capital. Months spent fighting off local bandits profiting of others, wild animals stealing livestock and the general issues face by those less fortunate than himself.

It had been an enlightening experience. He’d learnt a lot about himself both his strengths and more importantly his failings. He had garnered much praise for his combat skills, particularly his aptitude with the sword. This was to be expected based on the years of training he’d undergone. His faith and trust in other others, especially his Shepards, was a core tenant of his. Everyone deserved to be given a chance to prove themselves and most had honest intentions. Of course, he wan’t going to go round trusting random bandits and rogue mercenaries but otherwise he was cautious of judging too soon.

This was a doubled edge sword as he had known betrayal over the years from this outlook. However, this approach had been net positive in terms of relationships so he was sticking with it. More worrisome was the recklessness tendencies of his which many had drawn to his attention. Chrom would admit that sometimes his emotions sometimes got the better of him and he’d rush into the fray without a thought. Not wise for a commander where his decisions directly impacted the safety of those he lead. Hopefully something he could learn at the Academy is to pause and use his head.

The road was widening and in the Monastery getting closer with every step. Almost there, his mind turned to sillier questions. He imagined historians writing stories about his rule, of the wandering prince helping the people. He much preferred the role of reluctant protagonist that operated in the background than the main focus. For now, let his sister Emmryn keep that role as the exalt. Stuffy politics and tactics were not for him, the opportunity to be on the ground directly helping his people was better. He aimed to avoid rising to the throne for as long as possible.

Banishing those musing from his head, he noticed he’d finally arrived at the front gates. He nodded to the Gatekeeper in greeting.

“Good day, I’m Chrom…”

Chrom paused before giving his full name. He’d rather his heritage wasn’t known here. Less expectations, more freedom to make mistakes and learn without feeling like his every move was being watched.

One of the traditions they had for this type of festivity back in Ylisse was carving shapes into the skin of pumpkins before placing candles in them to makes spooky lanterns. Chrom wasn't sure if they did the same here but wanted to do it himself anyway. Maybe he'd inspire others to give it a go.

Passing by the kitchens he begged one of these orange vegetables from the chefs, promising to return the flesh for cooking. Taking it back to his room, he started the messy the task of scooping out the insides.

Once this was done, Chrom pulled out his small dagger and paused wondering what he wanted to carve on the pumpkin this year. Scary faces were traditional but he wasn't feeling that inspired.

Loooking up, he caught sight of his brand in the mirror, standing out clearly on his shoulder. Picking up the blade again, the warrior begun copying the symbol into the tough skin of the vegetable. It was crude but still recognisable by the time he'd finished.

Proud of his work, he placed a couple of candles inside before leaving the finished lantern outside his room door. Wandering down the corridor back to the kitchens, Chrom kept an eye out incase anyone else had made a lantern.

Okay. Now he just sounded JUST a little dull around the ears.

"Ahaha~ They say that if you repeat someone's name three times, they might just appear in your mirror at night. Spooooky! But here you are, in the flesh! Anyways..." He wasn't a softy but he sure did follow by example. Pulling out a charm, dashed in hideous ink, Henry folded it into the prince's palm. "I heard from Elincia that this moon's going to be a long one. So... make sure you keep your head on, will ya?"

"If you tear it, a flame will erupt from the charm. Hexed it, ya see? You might need it if you ever feel alone in the dark. Nya ha ha!"

Chrom’s head shot up as he crossed the hallway. He could have sworn he’d heard his name, but maybe he’d been mistaken. Shaking his head he began walking towards his destination when he heard it again, louder this time. He then heard running footsteps behind him and turned to see a silver haired man with a look of happiness on his face.

Confused by the person’s reaction to him but smiling politely, Chrom nodded in greeting. The man sounded like they knew Chrom although he was certain he hadn’t met this person before. Remembering his conversation with Robin he deduced that it may be a timey-wimey thing. 

“Err thanks” Accepting the charm awkwardly from the could be stranger, Chrom tucked it into one of his many pockets. Never know, may come in handy. Speaking of pockets, he dug deeper in search of a return present 

@merrydiviner​

As you gather information from the students and the surrounding villages, you begin to notice a common thread: mages utilizing unfamiliar spells that aren’t known in Fódlan or beyond. But as you prepare to ambush a group of suspiciously-robed “mages”, you notice their physical, non-magelike builds and strange weapons in their hands. Swords, lances, axes, all made of a strange “organic” material, if you could call it that, and eerily similar to what you’ve seen from the Heroes’ Relics. The Church would be more than interested in bringing those back for inspection, whether by force or theft. [Grants Any Weapon + 1]

Chrom paced restlessly around the square of the village he’d been sent to. Despite being a new student, the faculty had called for more people to come and aid with the situation in the Faerghus. On the march over, he’d been filled in on the strange goings on recently with infected villagers and mages using unfamiliar spells. Despite his lack of knowledge of the arcane, Chrom was willing to lend whatever help he could.

His current order was to prepare an ambush for said mages. Scouts had reported that there was a group hiding out in a storehouse on the village outskirts. What interested him was the description of them having more muscular builds than you would expect for a magic user and using melee weapons alongside spells. He may be useful for the upcoming fight after all. Apparently the weapons resembled Heroes Relics, whatever those were but the Church wanted them retrieved so that was now his goal too. 

Pausing in his movement he met the eyes of a purple-haired woman watching him with a calm confidence. He flashes a quick disarming smile and heads over to lean against the wall next to her. There was a tension in the square, the energy which gathered before a battle as people made their preparations. Maybe this person held some new information.