#prhyst

Fort Merceus. The Stubborn Old General. The most fortified city in the Adrestian Empire. The fact security was incredibly tight came at no surprise. The vast, almost cavernous room they were all shuffled into however was unexpected.

“New construction. Higher ups wanted this up and running A S A P - imperial military lingo for as soon as possible, sorry, forgot you guys are civvies. Next time it’ll be prettier for sure-” Elincia looked towards the guard speaking with a hint of alarm held in her wide eyes. The man seemed friendly enough but had he even stopped for breath? He spoke at such a speed she hardly had time to process what he’d said/

“Newman! No dawdling” “S-sir!”

Newman saluted, shut his mouth immediately and marched away to other duties. Elincia tried to keep his thick ginger beard and bright green eyes in mind. He’d seemed far more amicable than any of the other guards here. Lead into a small office on her own, she found herself face to face with an officer, a woman with dark grey eyes that seemed to look straight past her. Her questions were curt and her tone no nonsense. Name, birthdate, known spells, had she brought any dangerous objects.

“I have a sword with me.” Elincia confessed, immediately doubling back on herself as the officer’s eyes narrowed. “It’s a family heirloom - our national treasure! I have no intention to attack anyone, I promise.”

Perhaps only because they’re here on church business, her paperwork was ticked off all the same. The woman muttered about how dangerous she is - a mage and a swordmaster. What a security risk. Her belongings were taken for inspection too and she hesitated before handing over Amiti. Alas, they’d get nowhere if she refused and so Elincia complied, accepting the wooden tag she was granted instead. Her name and details were carved into it and Elincia stepped to the side to wait for her belongings and allies.

It was a curious little thing. Polished beautifully, a number cut into it alongside the rest of her information. There was something odd about it too. She could feel magic emanating from it, albeit weakly.

“Ah, Pelleas. Could you take a look at this for me?” Elincia was joined by four people she was lucky enough to consider friends: Maria, Rhys, Marianne and Pelleas himself. His experience with magic was far greater than her own, so she deferred to his expertise. “I think it’s enchanted, is yours the same?”

“O-okay. Here I go!”

Rhys Roll: Natural 20, critical hit! -5HP to Andrei. Andrei HP: 1/6

He clapped a hand over his mouth as the earth erupted under Andrei with more force than he’d ever seen the spell have. “Woah!”

     It wasn't the familiar shadows this time, but it hit hard nonetheless, and Andrei found himself, for the second time in the span of less than an hour, brought to his knees by a magic strike. This one burned, bright cinders dancing along his clothing and searing the skin underneath, until he was left gasping amid a haze of smoke.

     He felt the ring upon his finger pulse out the same warmth as before, much more needed this time. With the aid of the minimal healing, he was able to catch his breath.

andrei hp: 1.5/6

     "Y-you're..." he lifted his head with difficulty to stare at his assailant. Wasn't this man a healer? He wouldn't have expected one capable of such a feat, but this was no time for surprise. He had to fight back, before he lost all strength. Andrei drew back his bow, firing one shot, then another.

andrei attacks (8, 10): 2 damage rhys hp: 3/5 rhys cannot counterattack!

Event starter for @elegiac-boar, @prhyst and @dutybounded

The projectionist had claimed that these were the perfect training dummies, and from her demonstration they were certainly interesting foes. Larcei would have had no problem raising her sword against these enemies, but… this was an opportunity. To try out something new. Something exciting. Something she’d never had real combat experience with before. 

The plan was to fight a whole gauntlet of enemies, right? So it was only fitting she used gauntlets to do it. 

One two, one two. She planned out her attack in her head, trying to emulate the brawlers she’d watched. Jump in, one two, dodge the counterattack. Simple, right? 

This first round was two vs four, Larcei had confidence she and her teammates would breeze through this. Her first target: the archer. 

Larcei rolls: 15, 14. Hit and hit! (-1hp) Archer rolls 16. Hit! (-2hp) 

One two! With a satisfying bash, Larcei got two solid blows in. Initial impressions: gauntlets were pretty fun. 

What wasn’t so fun was the dodging part. The archer drew and released before Larcei had time to react, and she was hit in the arm. Oof. 

“Alright, who’s next?” She called out to her teammates pulling out the arrow. It stung, but she’d be fine. 

@prhyst

Before his departure, Luthier promised Whiskers that, no matter what, he could never, ever be replaced in his heart.

However, as the Mage finds a vacant bench in the sunlight and sits down with a few books, he cannot help but feel the glaring lack of a warm, soft, purring furry friend to invite onto his lap and discuss the intricacies of magic with as they enjoy simply being, keeping each other company...

It is a deficiency that demands at the very least a temporary substitute; and luckily for Luthier, it would seem that the monastery and the immediate area around it are not devoid of the potential candidates.

“Why, hello there. You are looking most radiant today,” he says softly, extending his hand towards a pure white kitty. The animal approaches him with some interest, but a mild one at best at the moment. That is fine - trust and friendship are built slowly, that much Luthier knows.

How about a show that he is worth the attention, for starters? Walking with a small satchel of cat treats on him at all times, the Zofian is always ready to offer payment for the privilege of touching the soft fur. Producing a piece, he offers it to the pet. A second later, it is snatched from his hand; slowly, his fingers wander over in between the cat’s ears, giving its head a gentle scratch, and earning a rub in return.

Perfection!

He chuckles softly as he pets the cat for a moment, before it rubs against him one more time and then takes its leave. “Thank you very much for your time. I hope to see you around,” Luthier says with a nod, waving goodbye to the animal.

Only then does he note that there is one of the Academy’s teachers standing next to him.

“Ah— My apologies, Professor,” he utters quickly, standing up and bowing in greeting. How could he miss the teacher’s arrival like that, where are his manners? (With the cat, is where.) “I got... somewhat absorbed. The pets of the monastery are simply exquisite. Such noble creatures.”

It is only then that he remembers that, with how new he is to the Academy, his name might not yet be known to the Professor. Right. With his hand on his chest, he offers one more bow, a shorter one this time.

silver round // @elegiac-boar, @prhyst, @keen-kin

        Tantamount to a good fight was a running start. Careful plans and well laid traps were, of course, important to any operation. Of course they were. However, when it came down to a good old fashioned fight, one must take to emotion like flame. It would catch readily, so long as one was willing to let everything go and fight solely on feeling. Fight solely on the balls of your feet, until the last fist is thrown, the last axe is downed, the last breath is taken. Frederick knew that it had to start somewhere. So why not start with him?

        “Allow me, students!”

         Untethering himself from the floor was easy. Even if he did not have his trusty steed Josephine with him, he knew what it felt like to be free. Buckling his brave knuckles tightly, he charged ahead—emulating steam as he bolted straight towards the Wyvern Lord himself. Landing a solid punch, the strongest of his will from his fist onto the chest of his enemy, he threw his entire body weight into the next. This time he knew even lightning, at this range, was unmissable. A second, equally blaring strike landed on flesh, cutting into scaly armor and scraping up a sullied mess! But such was the fate of a monstrous fiend.

Frederick used One-Two Punch! Never Miss! -1.5* 4 = -6HP damage. Wyvern Lord’s HP: 14/20HP // Prayer Ring grants +1 HP to Frederick: 9.5/10 HP

         A third, a fourth, burning wounds into the Wyvern Lord before it could even roar in thunderous opposition. Just as he was about to plow another punch in, the Wyvern Lord flitted its arm forward, fronting a full-on magic attack. To his fortune, and likely the vision of his loved ones leading him to dodge for his life, the hit was quite light. He felt it singe his hair just slightly, leaving him sore, but still readily able.  

        “There will never be enough prayers to save you now!”

Wyvern Lord rolled 7, barely hit! -1.5 HP damage. Frederick’s HP: 8 HP / 10 HP

        Lunging at his opponent, he lit his fists a-flame in sheer emotion, riveting from side to side, meeting flesh and scale. It was fury, it was exhilaration, it was every bit he had trained to do to serve his lord, his lady, his nation. But now, they were just in a ring fighting ghosts. Regardless, Frederick was not going to leave his team disappointed. Honing every inch of his mind towards feeling, the flow of time sauntered backward. And he knew he would make each mark, as though it were his first. (And as though it were his last.)

Frederick used One-Two Punch! (Pt. 2) Never Miss! -1.5 *4 = -6HP damage. Wyvern Lord’s HP: 8/20 HP remaining.

               “ Why, the honor is all mine; I will admit that my heart and mind is that much clearer in knowing that you are with us, professor,  “   Marth said with pleasant surprise, turning around after the initial caucus of their peers and associates had finished. He’d been meaning to approach the older man himself after the meeting, spotting him as a familiar head amongst the crowd and even the first speaker amongst their company of all things.

               The last time they had crossed paths was beneath the glittering vault of the ballroom, without ties to any firm obligations like the present. He was happy to see him withal.

               Alongside the invocation of its talents, his gentle presence undoubtedly served to quell some of the king’s worries; namely, that they would find themselves not only in sore want for a healer, but also an experienced one. Vouching for his ability came easily in the regard. The professor’s performance at the Valley of Torment, challenging the might of the lava worm at his side, carved within Marth a deep and favorable impression.

He hummed and worked on folding clean bandages and organizing the cupboards. Sorting in a new shipment of supplies was a bit tedious, but he liked the satisfaction of working and the feeling of clean cloth in his hands.

Rhys turned his head at the sound of footsteps behind him and he smiled, genuine and soft with a light in his eye. "Oh, Manuela. It's nice to see you. This should only take me ten more minutes or so..." he patted a small stack of cloth. "Nice to always have a good supply."

It was the Day of Devotion, wasn't it? "Oh-! And Happy Day of Devotion to you."

Manuela hangs back a moment at the threshold of the infirmary. Was she... dreaming?

How else could she explain a pleasant looking, handsome young gentleman here. Cleaning up the mess she left when she couldn't be bothered to sort through the delivery of new supplies, and all with a smile on his soft, charming face? Be still her beating heart!

He looks towards her, tawny eyes practically sparkling and she really has to worry if she's been drinking too much recently. He smiles at her - gentle and sincere. Manuela thanks the Goddess for everything that brought her here today, and for blessing her with divine colleagues.

"Oh my, thank you so much!" she gushes, finally crossing over the threshold and taking a seat on a cot across from him. "It's a pleasure to meet you too, Rhys, isn't it? I'm so thrilled to have such considerate colleagues. You must allow me thank you. Perhaps over dinner or drinks?"

♠  ~ The next item on her list was...sharing chocolates with Rhys? Alright, fine, so she did have a box of sweet, tasty, easily-snackable chocolates stashed away somewhere. Did she particularly feel like sharing? No, not really. First off, they were hers. She bought it. For herself. For her own enjoyment. She shouldn’t have to share that with anyone. Much less practically being ordered to share. What kind of busybody even suggested this as an activity?

Well, to be fair, there wasn’t much left to be shared anyway. She was down to the last few pieces in the box. Barely enough for a satisfying snack and, uh, apparently, she’d been a bit careless in storing them. They’d wind up kinda half-melted and all kinds of yuck. What to do? What to do? Oh, alright, maybe she should go find this Rhys. If they put their heads together, she was sure they’d find some way of finding a use for these chocolate-y scraps.

She eventually found him in the kitchens, apparently in the middle of preparing a pot of pasta, from the looks of things. Not just that but he’d just left it hanging unattended. How careless. What was he doing, fetching some other ingredient? Beats her. Not her business anyway. On the other hand, for her tho, it was the perfect opportunity. All she’s got to do now was to slip in, dump the last few chocolates into the pot, junk the empty box and then slip out again. All totally undetected. Easy. By the time he’s noticed, they’d have well melted into the soup by then and likely seeped right into the pasta itself.

Farina allowed herself a cheeky mischievous grin. She still wasn’t up for actually sharing - totally not her - but using her sweets to pull a prank? Now, that was totally her.