@exclted @swiftscion @nagaficat @allegreta

Ephidel found that in the nightly hours, when he stalked the night sleepless and the humans laid their bodies and minds to rest, his seemed to drift just the same. It happened slowly. The digits of his body began to respond less. Then the limbs. Then the rest. Until his mind seemed to rise above his frame and warp from it.

Until golden eyes opened to a coliseum of people demanding entertainment. Ephidel glanced around himself; saw others from the monastery with strange weapons in all their hands. What was all this? Were they to play fools for these vermin’s approval? He would not dance this waltz for such a reason, and idly inspected the needle and syringe he found in his grasp. And there, clasped around one finger, he had also been adored with a ring.

This all made little sense, and before he could ponder it further, a large stone door opened on the far wall of the coliseum, and out flew a phoenix shimmering in a rainbow of light. It stretched its wings and cried a mighty shriek before diving headlong at the lot of them.

Violence, was not the first tool in Ephidel’s arsenal, but he knew how to wield all manner of magic and blade, and he wasted no time in using what he had been gifted.

He tucked and rolled out of the way of incoming talons, and readied a stance for the next opening. When the bird swooped in again, he leaped to its back and drove the needle deep. It seemed to have no effect, the bird’s hide thick and battle worn, and so Ephidel broke the needle at the base, sending metal shards deeper into its flesh. The beast howled. It did not seem to take any damage, but an opening had been made.

Ephidel used Slatterslash with the Injector! Roll 1d20+2! 14+2=16! Hit! -0HP

Twin Soul 10/10 HP

Twin Soul receives -1 DEF/RES for 1 turn

The great beast had just as little patience for Ephidel as he had for it, and turned to peak at the flea on its back. A direct hit to his shoulder weakened the strings in his arm, and Ephidel’s grasp released, sending him plummeting to the ground.

Twin Soul countered with Sharp Beak! Roll 1d20! 8! Hit! -1.5HP

Leanne was already on the other side of the room, far away from the door. The putrid aura that assailed her was a sure warning, as telling as a thundercloud before the oncoming storm. In fear, she’d bolted the door shut. Whoever that cursed aura belonged to could not have been kind nor merciful. It felt like that greedy duke who tried to seize her in the forest, but worse. It was like an unholy power had seized him and magnified his worst, most vile thoughts.

No. She couldn’t deal with this alone. She needed Tibarn or Naesala. Or Ike. Someone. She knew she couldn’t put Reyson in danger on her account, but the others could deal with this. They’d protected her, after all.

Rather than answering him, she shouted the names of her protectors in the Ancient Tongue, praying that they heard her. The room was inescapable, save for the entrance she’d just forced shut. She prayed to the goddess above that they heard her pleas for help.

Valter let out a shrill, euphoric cackle. Fear. It didn’t matter if he couldn’t understand her words -- fear was universal, and he tasted it on her panicked cries for help. There was no way he was returning empty handed now. He needed a trophy for his room, after all.

His heavy boot crashed against the wooden door -- knocking was useless at this point, and besides, he was craving destruction. He slammed against it again and again, laughing hysterically as he felt it start to splinter and crack under him. 

When the delirium fades and introductions with Lady Deirdre are exchanged, Ephidel finds then how the dream melts away into the next. The prestigious gallery of art becomes a lush and expansive field of green. Spiraling towers of rock jut out from the ground, forming a loose circle and the perimeter of their arena. Cliffs hover from above, and the faceless audience looks down from on high with anticipation of the next round of entertainment.

Ephidel inspects himself to see what tools he had been granted for this round, but finds nearly none for offense. Further, he is swathed in the cloth of his superiors. The title of priest he has been working for ascension to has been bestowed upon him, and all the duties it requires. Whatever gods or masters were controlling this realm certainly had a twisted glee in what they were doing. Was this to mock Ephidel’s past failures? Or those yet to be?

It mattered little, as a gust kicked up and blew back robes and thoughts alike. A giant feathered beast descended, flicking out its tongue as if to smell its prey. Game or not, Ephidel had been given a mission, and he always saw his through. He grabbed hold of his staff and held it aloft.

Larcei’s Amaterasu activates! +1HP! Ephidel’s Renewal activates! +2HP!

Ephidel’s HP 8/10

Ephidel casts Physic on Lucina! Roll 1d20! 8! Okay heal! +2HP + 2HP (White Magic Heal+) = +4HP!

Lucina’s HP 8/10

Her own dreams had been feverish, filled with nightmares of those she cared about being lost to violence or subsumed into the void of hungering sleep, and to feel that he was real and standing before her is a comfort.

"Oh, Ephidel. I am so happy you are safe."

He had sought her out since he awoke again on monastery grounds. It is strange that something in him demands to see her safe, but it is perhaps that very absurdity that drives his search.

When the gold of his eyes fall upon her, the haze in them clears and is replaced with all the shine in the sun.

She collides into him, and what ever power Deirdre's embrace had on him, seems to have the opposite effect with Leanne. The life in his hollow seemingly escapes out his chest and he falls limp in her arms. It is terrifying, and exhilarating, all in the space of a single moment. When strength finds his digits once more, they helplessly wrap around her. The shape of him curling under her and feeling whole once more.

She is not surprised when Ephidel is selected to delve back in, but she worries for them all the same. She doubts her presence would help protect them, but the bated silence of waiting for a friend to come home safe from battle is suffocating nonetheless.

"Good luck, Ephidel." She greets them on their path from their quarters, which yes, she's studied a little bit. She likes to know the patterns and habits of those she cares about! "May the Goddess protect you and light your path."

She gives him a tight hug before she can second-guess herself, wings flaring as she presses her face tightly to their chest.

"Stay as safe as you can."

This mission was from the church itself; it is only natural then that her servant be the first recruited, but Ephidel has no qualms. His orders were always completed with exactness. With the few hours he had been given to prepare, his equipment was gathered and his hair was freshly brushed back.

The morph had no need for sleep and little understanding of dreams, but if he had been pulled into that illusion before, it must be possible to enter it willingly. His clergy robes were pulled over his shoulders and he left his temporary dwelling. There were a few tasks to manage before he set off proper, but stepping outside, he came face to face with one of them.

"Leanne." He replies, curious that she also sought him out, but before he can say more, he was encircled in her arms. The mechanisms in his frame immediately locked.

It was the same gesture Lady Deirdre had done when saving him, and now Leanne while wishing him safety. It seemed then, to be a gesture of protection, and so slowly, Ephidel mirrored it.