#war monk

Sylvain

Pre-Timeskip

War Monk Commission!

I was commissioned anonymously to give some black and gold to the War Monk scheme! Simple, but very fun to work around with.

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War Monk (Aiden?): Though he has no words to explain the tumultuous storm inside of him, just him covering his face is enough. Very slowly, do you peek to the side, a scarlet blush upon both of your cheeks. “Erm,” you say softly and touch him to get his attention. He flinches from the sudden contact, but his eyes are on your lips. 

“This…isn’t what I’ve recruited you for…aha…ha….” You fear you’re now a pervert to him, although it took both of you to get here in the first place. And surely…he was the one to kiss you, right? The sheets rustle as you shift over to put your hand on his arm, and he’s positively trembling as you make eye contact. Really now, this was the same man to take you in a bout of passion.“Is this…okay?” 

Your finger draws a line down his face, tracing circles over his cheeks and running in zigzags over his jaw. He nods yes, a little less pink now. He’s just as bare as you are, the blanket doing little to cover his lower half, and he’s an utter mess. 

His hair is sticking every which way, and he sports evidence from your activities last night, in the form of bruises, scratches, and love bites all over. His hand finds your cheek, and you lean into his large and calloused hand. “I like you,” you say and then sign, and a smile brightens up his sleepy face. He returns the gesture, and then holds the back of your head to pull you in for a soft morning kiss. His lips are tender and warm, and you’re reminded of the kiss that began it all. But they don’t grow hot and feisty, and instead he peppers your lips with pecks so soft they caress your mouth. You’ll be a little late for morning assembly today but it’ll be okay–you have your quiet lover to take care of first. 

Trickster: You let out the most annoyed groan when you see his face. His eyes are closed and he looks irritated, rather than smug for once. “What is that ghastly noise for?”“Because of you!” you poke him in the chest. Surely he’s pleased he’s won this game of cat and mouse with you, finally. “Why are you here?”A faint shimmer of a smirk appears, though his sleepiness wins out. Not a morning person…how cute, you think before coughing slightly. “Because you invited me here. And I did a fine job of keeping your bed warm. Now let me sleep.” He rolls on to his side so he can hug your waist and you gasp.You bat at him, and he wrinkles his nose. “Wait, wait–” He ignores you and pulls a sheet over his eyes to block the rays of sunlight slipping into your tent. “We have to talk about this, won’t you listen?”“Can’t that come afterwards?” he whines and nuzzles into your neck. “It’s time for sleeping.” You sigh reluctantly and lower yourself back down. “It’s time for being awake…are you trying to dodge the subject?” There’s a heavy pause and you know that you’re on the right track. “If you don’t have to…we can stop it right here.”He shakes his head drowsily, and for the first time since you’ve woken up, you smile brightly. “So…you wish to be with me? Truly?”“Yes. Do you think I would just let anyone do this with me?” His voice is as arrogant as ever, and you can’t help but giggle in response. You roll over and on to him, and he lets out a light ‘oof’ as you worm your way into his strong arms. “No worming your way out of here.” His taut muscles squeezes around your lighter frame and you breathe a content sigh against his chest.“I don’t intend to.” For once you don’t reply with a witty quip, and instead enjoy a quiet morning with him.

Sage: You wriggle your nose feeling greatly annoyed before you even open your eyes. There’s an incessant poking at your cheeks and you just wish it would stop. This unwelcome disturbance alerts your senses enough that the light in your tent is enough to awake you, and you emit a faint growl.“Finally,” a familiar grumpy voice says. “Sleeping beauty is awake.”

“What do you want….zz….” you turn to whatever source of warmth you’re nuzzling against. “Urgh, so hard…”He begins to faintly sputter. “Well yes, do you even know where you are? In any case…I let myself get far, far too carried away last night. Of course, I can’t simply bed you and run away, so I suppose we have no choice but to marry–”

“BUH?” You shoot up straight and are nose to nose with him. It appears you were taking comfort in his lap and had been nuzzling your cheeks against his rather sculpted six pack. Your eyes aren’t the only pair darting down–your blanket has fallen off of you entirely and he’s drinking in some eye candy while you’re occupied. “H-hey now, paint a portrait while you’re at it.”

He coughs indignantly and throws his half of the blanket upon you. It covers your head and you whine at him from under there. “Well you weren’t exactly being so chaste either, were you? At any rate, neither of us have anything to hide from each other.”The pillow talk from last night plays in your mind and you bury your face in his chest. 

“I suppose you’re right…but…are we really getting married? I mean you only just told me you love me…” Indeed he had–just as the two of you were basking in each other’s warmth after…it was all said and done. 

“Only if you consent to it. I…I did mean it when I told you of my true feelings.” His hands wrap over your waist, sneaking off what little fabric is covering them, and you shiver as his thumbs caress over your hips. 

“As good as you are hiding them, usually.” You peek up at him and lean up for a brief kiss. “You could stand to be sweeter, one would say you could compete with Lon’qu.”

Are several people helped as a priest? Or do you fight as War Monk? Which do I choose?

The true justice we all need, but don’t deserve... That would be none other than War Monk Moulder. He’s probably pretty swole underneath those robes, so he’s got reason to put on some armor and grab an axe to slay some heretics.

Additionally, the glory of Moulder and Gilliam smiting monsters and Grado soldiers in amazing combo attacks because they’re great like that.

War Monk Mastery

The enemy lines spread out before your vision, a common view by this point in you relatively short lifespan. Short in comparison to the ancient goddess residing in your head, you think with an internal smirk of mirth. 

In the past, your weapon of choice for the current situation would have been your trusty sword. The blade akin to the one first handed to you aged 5 by a father who knew that no matter how he tried his best to protect you, you’d need to wield to survive. If he couldn’t protect you, then he would instead teach you to protect yourself. Since those early days your skill had grown until the opportunity to look beyond the way of the sword had offered itself. 

A quick, instinctive choice made during an arena, opening up a whole new way of brawling. You wondered breathy if this sudden preference for gauntlets and claws were linked with the divine dragon whose soul was somehow linked with yours. Metal claws instead of . . . whatever dragon claws were made from, still deadly with the correct techniques. It had felt good on an almost beast-like level to rip into your foe up close and personal.

There was something cathartic about thrashing out some anger physically into the enemy. Anger that they were hurting your allies, anger that they had decided to start the fight in the first place. 

Reaching the decision to train in the use of gauntlets, you’d done your time in the arena. Made quite the name for yourself as a brawler, preferring to dart in and out quickly, getting the hit before tucking  in for defence. Speed and dexterity was your counter to the typical heavy bruiser types you’d faced in the ring. Within in the academy, time had been spent in the combat rooms, studying the best places to aim for to do damage versus incapacitating your foe. The fine art of how to adapt this melee style of fighting to the battlefield.

Let it be known. The Ashen Demon has claws now and they’re not afraid to wield them.