closed starter for @grimalealkin

One of the students has been hounding their peers to join their newest club, one where you “roleplay” a “hot myrmidon” on a quest to defeat a dragon, using dice to control the flow of combat. You may be familiar with tabletop versions of this game, but this student insists that “live action roleplaying” is the best way to do it, with costumes and props and all. Defeating a dragon? For some of you, that’s “been there, done that”! [Grants Sword +1]

It would take a very dedicated social hermit to not have heard about the current craze sweeping though the monastery at present. Someone at the Battles & Beasts club had decided they wanted to branch out beyond merely playing with paper and dice, instead wishing to go full on role play. Byleth’s initial amusement at the proposition had been dampened slightly when she’d been assigned to assisting the club in the last staff meeting. Hence her current get up, leather boots and breeches, leather fur trimmed light armour with her sword at her hip, an attempt at a ‘hot myrmidon’. 

It may have been more fun to play the dragon.

Even before the rest of her team can finish off the final opponent, the arena is shifting, growing more vast and open. Severa herself can feel the reigns of her mount disappear, before dropping maybe half a foot onto the back of something else. A girlish screams rings out, before a desperate sigh of relief comes through. Whoever was doing this must’ve had it out for her.

The spear she totes feels lighter as well, designed in a similar fashion to that of her mothers. A twist in her face, before gazing down to see the dark, scaled wings flapping on either side of her. Just like lady Camilla’s. Wow, this is like deja vu times two.

Glancing between the two enemies that’ve appeared in front of her, there’s only one thing to say.

“I’ve seen bigger.” Grima really prepared Severa for the worst of it. 

“Follow my lead, guys! Let’s focus that smaller one! Nanna, on me!” She calls out, rushing in without any hesitation. Targeting the minion just like she said she would, she strikes first.

Severa attacks Stalmandra Minion with Brave Lance. Roll 2d20: 15+6, 8+6! Hit! Hit! Stalmandra Minion takes 7 damage. Stalmandra Minion HP: 10/17

Stalmandra Minion counter attacks with Fjuur Sword. Roll 1d20: 20! Crit! Severa takes 1 damage. Severa HP: 9/10

Darting Blow activates. Severa attacks Stalmandra Minion with Brave Lance. Roll 2d20: 11+6, 1+6! Hit! Hit! Stalmandra Minion takes 7 damage. Stalmandra Minion HP: 3/17

One might say the sheer accuracy of her strikes are uncanny. Not Severa though, as she strikes adamantly at the lesser of the two evils. With the beastly roar beneath her, her mount is as intent on taking names as she is.

Two well placed jabs are met on the minion, before pulling back on the reigns to try and avoid the counter attack. Unfortunately, the enemy isn’t a joke, and lands what should’ve been a fierce blow to her. That armor she has is quite durable though, and shrugs it off without much worry. 

Two more jabs are thrown its way, absolutely shattering through any defenses it may have had in the process. 

“Nanna! Now!” 

Ah, snow. A concept that had forever been familiar to the Silessean. For most at the Officers Academy, the early snowfall had been a thing to dread. With the Ethereal Ball just around the corner, the ill weather put restrictions on the kinds of things one could wear. You either dressed warmly, or sucked it up and bore the cold in a flimsy suit. But for Lewyn, frigid winds brought him back to his homeland. The blanket of white covering the ground was nothing short of serene in his eyes. It reminded him of home--a home he could not return to. And for that, he was thankful.

So, as one could understand, he was less than content in being tasked with cleaning up the early snow. Packing it up and sweeping it aside felt like destroying a part of Silesse, at least in his heart. He wore a sullen frown as trudged along with his fellow student, rolling the frozen rain up into balls so that they’d be easier to incinerate. He paused at some point, looking up to the sky and wondering what his country was looking like right now. Was it covered in the same snow that buried the blood shed by internal conflict? Or was it being trampled over by the boots of an imperial war? Without something akin to a miracle, he’d never know...

It was during this pause, however, that a devilish idea struck the bard. His saddened expression, at the mere thought of his plan, turned sly. A shit-eating grin formed on his face as he looked over his collection of snowballs. Plenty of fuel for the fire, yes, but also plenty of ammunition... 

Lewyn did a once-over at Morgen, looking her way to make sure she was occupied. If she wasn’t, he’d just wait until she opened a blind spot to do some work. When her time of weakness inevitably came, he waved a hand. This was where the fun began. Green gusts of air gently blew from his palm--strong enough to lift a single snowball, but weak enough not to break it. With a slick flick of his wrist, the cold winds tossed the projectile Morgen’s way. It arced through the air, and landed on her shoulder with a light plap! The force was nothing to write home about, but that didn’t matter.

As quickly as he could, Lewyn turned away from Morgen. He had a wide-grinned smile now, but hid it so he could pretend like nothing happened. His only uncovered eye peered over the side of his face to watch for her reaction--ready to jump out of the way if she chose to fire back.

“Greeting Morgan nothing to…. Report…” Gatekeeper greeted, slowly slowing down his speech. This was Morgan right? He looked at the young lady in front of him and just… confusingly tried making sense of it all. Two Morgan’s with the same jacket with two parents with the same jacket?

Or was it one of each just on disguise for some reason or another? If she was careful she could totally use make up to pass as the other Morgan? And so could the Robin? AHHHH HE COULDN’T TAME THIS CURIOSITY!

“I’m sorry this will seem rude. How many of you…. Exist? No I mean do you have a brother? Or a cousin?Do you do disguises? You all look so similar with the same cloak I honestly can’t tell. Even when you’re in uniform.” Gatekeeper asked awkwardly.

Was it right to bombard the child with questions? Noooooo…. But she probably got it a lot right? It was just so wild that four foreign exchange student and teachers would come in almost being identical to one another?

Morgen didn't know much of the Archanean style of dancing, but she did certainly know the Ylissean version, having spent time at balls due to her father's position. She bounced over to the ancestor of some of her friends (and a person who she had read many a tale of.) smiling brightly as she held out a hand to him.

"Hello Lord Marth! If you would allow me, perhaps I can try to teach you a bit of the Ylissean waltz?"

A glorious illustration worth more than any masterpiece the finest court artist could render, tonight the ballroom floor was painted in the choreographic styles of a dozen lands. Never before had he seen the academy transformed into such a melting pot - host to such vivid smiles come to life! Marth was sure it would be a sight he would remember, envisioned freely to ward off the megrims of future days.

Partaking in the propagation of heritage and tradition posed no difficulty and lacked no motivation to the king, he welcomed the chance to spread the teachings of his native court to the commonwealth, gentry, and nobility that walked these halls. But in the same stride, he was interested in acquainting himself with the dances unique to countries far beyond Archanea’s horizon. There would be no greater opportunity to do so than here and now, after all.

Approached by the Ylissean student, Morgan, and her polite entreaty, his receptiveness to learning quickly crossed over even into the realm of dance, leading to an eager response and a bright, boundless smile. “Certainly, lady Morgan. I am most pleased by your offer, and eager to delve into a taste of Ylisse’s unique dance. Rumors say it is a more scandalous successor of the Archanean style! Provided there are no extremes involved, I am willing to sample such a dance without prejudice.”

Dancing with @earthbound-chorister

Style: 10

Choreography: 5

Technique: 4

Total: 19

“With one victory under our belts, this should be less nerve wracking, right?” It wasn’t about winning, of course. It was about a night of dancing, joy, and beautiful amidst meeting new people.

It was also a little bit about winning. They had their home to represent, after all.

Nailah held Rafiel carefully as they danced in fluid motion with each other. They’d been married for longer than many students at the academy had even been alive, yet she still found herself appreciative of moments spent together like this.

She hoped it never changed.

They gradually spun to a stop, eyes on the judges. Nailah breathed a sigh of  relief, hand still on Rafiel’s shoulder. “We are stylish. As for the rest... I felt in sync with you, so don’t fret.” The true judge of a dance was one’s partner after all. “What did you think? Your opinion is really what I care about.”

Rhys yipped and flailed, camera catching him mid yell. Morgen held onto him tightly, but he still wasn’t used to anyone sweeping him off his feet. He caught his breath with a wheeze, exhilaration making his heart pound.

Their photos printed and he looked at the roll.

“Haha, hahaha! Look at the face it caught on me! Er, I do hope it’s alright. You look very strong in it.”

"Hi, I sure hope I'm not wrong about this. But is this your note?"

WHAT MAKES YOU A GREAT DATE TO THE ETHEREAL BALL?  I’m really excited to see everyone at the ball! I get along with people, so I hope we’ll have a great time together.

"Ah!" Rhys leapt back when she leapt in front of him. In his startlement he clung to his heal staff and then relaxed with a laugh. "Haha, sorry. You got me."