Merciful Death

It's not the only question the princess has however. The second one is a bit simpler to answer.

“ Well, we need to enter deeper into Faerghus. We're only at the border because it's impossible to get into it without crossing it. It's deeper in that we have reports of unrest and things to fix. ”

After all, that's where the people are. To him, being forced to help fortify the defenses here under the arguments being made...

“ I just feel like we're wasting our time when we could be helping other people!! ”

And yet, here he was, still doing so. If it was what they needed to do to be granted permission further inside, that's one thing, but...

“ Earlier, you asked me who are we to judge them? But I don't think we need to be anyone in particular. Country politics don't affect just one kingdom and its neighbors but everybody. We all live somewhere, don't we? And that place has politics too. ”

Some nations build themselves in the other's image. Look at Agustria, trying to replicate the Grannvale Empire. Look at all the countries that had fractured off of one another but still borrowed their model of governance.

“ So I think you and me both have a right to think about policy even if I might not be from here. If something is accepted one place, then if a person immigrates from there, they'll carry that belief system to elsewhere, or other nations peering in will see it too. They can see people getting away with it and adopt it into their own. ”

It was how hate spread. How prejudice flourished.

"I apologize that my words upset you, but I do not think I made myself clear... If you'll allow me to clarify? I was not speaking of our ability to judge the soldiers or politics of Faerghus..."

She took a deep breath. "I do not believe it is our place to judge those who are branded as criminal, especially when they come to a new land seeking sanctuary. We cannot control what the soldiers believe, only our own actions. The soldiers acting out of fear may cast harsh judgment upon those they deem unworthy. It does not mean that we have to do the same."

"But I do believe we cannot judge the soldiers too harshly either." She closed her eyes, willing away the image of a towering man ruined by grief and fear. "Fear and grief will make people act upon their worst instincts. I don't think the soldiers are capable of acting rationally on their own right now. In that way, it is a good thing we are here. We are not tied to any one country in this land, we do not carry that same fear with us. "

Eir tosses more wood onto the pile, before adding a comment that would no doubt dig in and splinter.

He could not allow her to befall a fate like his own. She was so young and had years and years ahead of her. Finn knew not what moved him - perhaps it was a father's heart - but before he knew it, he was out there to offer her just a bit of warmth.

The chatter of the cafeteria clamored in his ears. He hated places like this but it was the only place to get food. 

Yet she pushes the plate back. She offers him kindness instead. How could this girl think of him? When her eyes looked like that?

It shook him that a mere stranger could pass him warmth, but was he not doing the same thing? No, no. The thought of eating never passed him. He was used to going without.

Her words seem more than a young girl's, though. Raising his head, he views her again. 

"It takes much too long to die of hunger," Finn responds. "I can survive. But you are young. Still growing. Children should know the warmth of home."

She takes another bite of the sawdust bread before continuing, a sparkle of mischief in her eye. "And I am far older than you think I am."

She pushes the tray towards him again, ever so slightly. "My home was never warm. My mother was the ruler of the land of the dead. It was cold, barren, and I often went without. It wasn't until I left home that I realized how cold she truly was." Was she talking about her home? Or her mother? Both were appropriate...

She took a moment to examine her companion. He seemed so tired, so worn down...

But that does not mean the work is quick. That does not mean the world shall be quick to be kind either. Wounds sting even when tended to, and Faerghus is no exception.

He helps with moving the cut lumber to where it needs to be, a vague sense of nostalgia creeping in on him as he makes conversations.  “ Not that we can get past here without helping them... ” 

"Who are we to judge them?" She asks softly. She glances at the treeline, wondering who or what was seeking safety amongst those gnarled trees. The branches were like outstretched hands, grasping at any who dared passed.

Eir closed her eyes, willing away the memories of last month's events.

The promise of it continues to be all too tempting.

Celephais 28.5/30HP casts Painless World on the party! [Roll: 14 - 4 = 10; Hit] Ephidel is inflicted with -6 dexterity for their next turn.

His arms surround his creation, long fingernails dragging up their limbs and almost consuming them entirely. 'To your Master, to your God.'

Yet, again the thought is cemented in Ephidel's mind that they can not fulfill his wishes. Not of their true god, not even to the illusion of him. In both, they were a failure. They did not deserve him; but his false-master was right about one thing.

Ephidel struggled back to their feet.

Ephidel does NOT sync with the vengeful spirit of Nergal

They were not meant to heal; made only to destroy. Pasithee herself had proven as much to the morph. And then that fire began to burn within them again, and with it, a will and desire formed on their own. Outside of purpose. Outside of loyalty and servitude. Outside of Lord Nergal or the church or existence itself.

Ephidel wanted to dismantle this illusion, not for the church, but to prove the inherent treachery Pasithee saw in them. To be the thief she had branded them as months prior. To snatch away what ever they could of her remaining happiness.

Ephidel staggered forward, Fimbulvetr coalescing in their grasp.

Ephidel 10/10HP attacks Celephais 18.5/30HP with Fimbulvetr at melee range! Heartseeker activates! [Roll: 7 + 2 = 9; -2.5HP] Post-Apocalyptic Savior activates! [Roll: 1, hit! -2.5HP, Celephais 16/30HP] ; Celephais is frozen! Celephais is unable to counterattack! Poison Strike activates! -1HP, Celephais 15/30HP

She murmurs, and then light and warmth slips away, slips out of him, dripping out and leaving him ungilded, blue as night, as twilight in which these nightmares encroach. They are discrete, separate once more: there is Chrom, and there is the shade of Emmeryn, whose kiss caresses his cheek before she floats up and away as if on a light breeze. Chrom widens his eyes and reaches out to her in a sudden panic. "Wait, come back! Won't you stay? Please?" His sister only offers him a gentle smile and wave in return, bidding farewell before dissolving into the darkness, and he understands now. It is the nature of elder sisters to leave their younger brothers at some point in time. She did it back then as she has done now, and he can't continue to rely on her, he realizes, can't keep leaning on her memory of a perfect ruler in order to attempt at even a fragment of becoming his own. He must stand on his own two feet, still hold her in his heart, but forge his own path without her to guide him.

At last, at last: peace. After all this time...

Inspired, he takes up the holy blade (Falchion having reverted to its original state) and sets his sights on Celephais, who bears significant damage thanks to his allies and whose afflictive gaze continues to miss him entirely. Thank Naga for small mercies! Right, then. Let's get to work and cut her down so we can get out of here!

Roll Painless World: 0, -6. Miss and miss! Chrom remains unaffected! Roll Sealed Falchion: 14. Hit! Damage dealt: 3.5. Post-Apocalyptic Savior activates! Roll: 2. Redirected to Mairenn! Illusory Mistress activates! Roll: 4. Redirected to an illusion! Damage dealt: 0. Roll Darting Blow: 7. Hit! Damage dealt: 3.5. Post-Apocalyptic Savior is still active! Damage dealt: 0.

Only, when he charges Nova towards the dark Rusalkan colossus and strikes, she flickers and wavers. He's come back around and thrust his sword towards her when Falchion connects and "Celephais" dissipates into smoke, revealing the real one frozen solid and safely out of his reach. Chrom groans in frustration. Dammit, that was a fake! And for a moment, he—

No. You made up your mind. Make her proud. You'll keep missing her, but you don't need to invoke her for help anymore. Just let her rest in peace now.

He won't miss next time.

Giant Bird C has been spawned! Celephais is no longer frozen!

As Hel remains consumed with her attacks, another bird appears upon the field. Katarina and Saizo take the brunt of the attacks from the remaining avian foes. While Saizo is unable to return the sting of the bird's claws with his blade, Katarina is able to cut through with her magic, only to take another hit that leave her critically injured.

Giant Bird B 10/10HP hits Katarina 6/10HP with Gradivus at 2-range [Roll: 6; -2, Katarina 4/10HP] Katarina 4/10HP counters with Hades [Roll: 7 + 2 = 9; -3, Giant Bird B 7/10HP] Lifetaker activates! [+1.5, Katarina 5.5/10HP] [Roll: 4] Wings of Freedom activates! Giant Bird B 7/10HP follows up with Gradivus [Roll: 9; -2.5, Katarina 3/10HP] Poison Strike activates! [-1, Giant Bird B 6/10HP] Giant Bird C 10/10HP hits Saizo 8.5/12HP with Gradivus at 2-Range [Roll: 17 - 4 = 13; -2, Saizo 6.5/12HP] Saizo is unable to counterattack! [Roll: 1] Wings of Freedom does not activate!

Hel is suddenly gripped by something, and Celephasis takes her opportunity to flee, casting spells upon Naesala and Hilda as she flees towards her healer.

Celephais 15/30HP misses Naesala 7.5/10HP with Eternal Sleep [Roll: 6; -0, Naesala 7.5/10HP] Naesala is unable to counterattack! Celephais 15/30HP misses Hilda 10/10HP with Eternal Sleep [Roll: 6; -0, Hilda 10/10HP] Hilda is unable to counterattack!

Her healer casts a spell, but Hel and Eir are too consumed by another feeling, much more unpleasant than the healing magic Celephais was being graced with.

Mairenn 10.5/15HP heals Celephais 15/30HP with Physic [Roll: 2; +3, Celephais 18/30HP] Mairenn 10.5/15HP heals Celephais 18/30HP with Physic [Roll: 7 - 4 = 3; +3, Celephais 21/30HP]

Hel is gripped with a splitting pain, a feeling she had not known for millennia. Hel's reaper falls from her hands as Hel falls backwards, just as she did when she fell to the Order of Heroes.

Eir hit the ground, gasping and sputtering, coughing and shaking. She feels cold, as cold as death. She has to pull at her necklace, too tight, as tight as her mother's hands. Tears well behind her eyes and her head is pounding. She scratches and claws at her skin as she pulls her hands down her skin, desperate to feel any reminder that she is alive. The angry red welts that appear are a testament that she is alive, that blood is flowing beneath her skin.

The battle around her is quiet. Eir pulls her knees against her head and shakes rattle her body as she fights to breathe. Her lungs burn, every breath is like a fire licking inside of her chest. She pulls at her hair, digging her tiara into her skin to feel the cool metal burn against it. Sobs tear her through her as she slams her hand down to tear at the grass.

Lyfjaberg returns to her master, ever faithful. The familiar weight in Eir's hand is enough to ground her. She looks up, towards Celephais and her healer to watch as the healer attempts another spell.

The fight rages on. Just as the time before it, death comes. It always does. One death after another, whether by your hand or another. Death comes to some in peace, death comes to some in battle, but no matter where it's from, it nevertheless arrives, taking and taking and taking.

Mairenn's spell tries in spite of this. She tries so, so hard to bring herself into more than just one place. She splits herself between three illusions and the real her, and it is all hands on deck as she casts to heal.

Her powers hone themselves to try to heal, but she cannot bring back the dead. She never has been able to, no matter how many years pass.

She tries to heal Celephais, the maker of this world, but all she does is afford a little bit more time.

(It's worse this time.)

Her spell explodes, taking the world away with it where her parents had made it. You are hit with a bright light the blinds your entire senses, and when you regain them again, everybody is gone. Rusalka's village has vanished, replaced by untilled earth. Its people are gone too, as are Lachesis and Isadora's corpses.

Only those of you who had made it remain and the unconscious body of 'Mairenn,' and that of Mira hovering over her.

“……” Mira stares at you all next in the wake of all this. “You have found the end of your path. But you are a lot like her.”

She stares down at the form of 'Mairenn', and then back to you.

“Death always comes. But whether you stay above it or lose yourself to it…”

Vines of the earth around you slither forth, coming around 'Mairenn,' winding their way around her limbs…

“Well, your heart already chose what it craved.”

The world around you shifts, locking into place the moment the vines ensnare 'Mairenn' completely. Your eyes see now a room of endless darkness, Mira disappearing along with it. At the center, illuminated by white light, appears to be a teenage girl held. She is near skin and bones, a cold, inhuman color. Hair as silver as the light that illuminates her frames her face, pulled back with a headdress made of metal chains. They go further on and on, however, winding their way tightly around her body and binding her in place. Unable to move anything save for a slight incline of her head, her golden eyes pierce you.

“You found me.” A thin, mirthless smile spreads across her lips, like this had all been a game. You know in your heart that this is the Pasithee that you have sought for so long.

"Now, however will you get out?" Her expression turns rueful.

“I have been held in stasis here for hundreds of years. If there is a way out, I would have found it.”

A rage simmers, painfully restrained as her body can do little more than ask this of you:

“So? Kill me and be done with it. Grant me my freedom just as you have been allowed these years where I have not. Refuse my last wish, and you will regret every day that you still draw breath. This, I promise you.”

Then, suddenly, Pasithee's eyes widen, and that is the last you see of her before you are whisked away into another pocket of space.

“What say you?" comes a formless voice. You've heard this voice before. "Every decision bears a consequence."

There is no warmth in it.

“Think on it. But be quick. There will soon be no way out.”

It leaves you and your group just as abruptly as it had come. Shall you kill Pasithee, or shall you refuse her command? The choice is yours.

Eir climbs to her feet, wiping tears away as they begin to fight amongst themselves. She feels so tired... But there is still too much to do.

Death and Life never end, the will merely chase each other forever until time ceases.

Still... if their team were to have any chance at victory, the healer needed to be immobilised.

Hilda charged, axe raised.

Hilda 10/10HP misses Mairenn 10.5/15HP using Freikugel [Roll: 4 + 2 = 6; -0, Mairenn 10.5/15HP] PINCER ATTACK activates! Hilda 10/10HP crits Mairenn 10.5/15HP using Freikugel [Roll: 19 + 2 = 21] ILLUSORY MISTRESS activates! [Roll: 2] The attack hits an illusory double, Mairenn 10.5/15HP. Mairenn cannot counterattack!

With her attack came the strangest sense of deja vu. Once more, her first swing was wildly miscalculated. The second, on trajectory, with the full weight of Hilda's strength behind it. Again, the ensuing slash should have been deep enough to render Mairenn ineffectual. And yet, the figure dematerialised into dust, and the gremory remained unscratched.

Learn from this, next time, she thought she heard Holst say firmly in her head. And, though it shouldn't have been possible, she felt his weight beside her on the saddle. Craning her neck, she saw him, spectral and hazy but definitively Holst, his gaze surveying the battlefield as though it was what he had been born for; she supposed that he had been.

I can lend you my strength, little sister, he urged her. Do not let this all be in vain.

He feels his lance (his bow?) guided by another hand--by Python, wordless yet sharing in and amplifying his anger, pushing him towards vengeance. He stares down Isadora, his voice somehow freed from the silence that grips his throat.

"What do you have to say for yourself?"

"Harken, why--" She wanted to push the blame on to something else, anything else but herself. The spirit had no answer for her, quickly retreating behind her once more. How could she do such a thing! It took her a second before she reluctantly looked over at Forsyth. Isadora's heart ached still for what she had done- but she should at least answer his question "There's nothing I have to say. This was my choice, and you all may never understand it- even if I had an excuse would you even consider it? I don't believe so."

"You..." Part of Forsyth wants to hear her out, despite everything. Had something forced her, clouded her judgement? She calls for her beloved, and Forsyth thinks about Python notching the arrow for him as they speak. But his partner refuses to listen--what could she have to say that would bring Lachesis back? What use are apologies when the lioness is already turning cold in this wretched place? You're smarter than this, Fors. It isn't like you to hesitate. "You're right. There's nothing to discuss. Make your peace."

Forsyth 10/10HP synchronizes with Python! Python 10/10HP crits, crits Isadora 12/12HP with Hunter’s Volley [Rolls: 20 + 6 = 26, 20 + 6 = 26; -8HP, -8HP, Isadora 0/12HP] Isadora has been defeated!

The arrows tear through the air, piercing Isadora clean through her neck and eye. She hardly has a chance to cry out, making a strangled gurgling noise as she falls to the ground.

Forsyth is hardly paying attention to her. All he can think is how close Python is to him, how he could practically feel his weathered archer's fingers brush against him and his voice in his ear. It's wrong, he knows it, but he chases the feeling nonetheless.

After what happened with Brigid, he deserves no better; he's as much of a murderer as Isadora. She was just able to finish the job, and he is now repaying her in kind. So the cycle of bloodshed continues.

How long ago was that? A thousand lifetimes ago, easily. Before mother was gripped by the cruel allure of power. Hel was like an addict, and Eir her personal supply of drugs. But it hadn't always been like that? Right? There was a time that Hel had been kind, and gentle. Eir knew it in her heart.

She had been blinded by that. Allowing Hel's vengeful spirit to remain so close to her. There could be no good that could come from the dead amongst the living. The dead coveted what the living had.

"Don't! Don't do it!" She cried out, trying to stop her allies. A stray villager stopped to interfere. Eir blocked his attack, but the villager pressed on. Eir found herself back up against a wall of a home, when Death came for the villager.

Hel had caught up to her.

Eir tried to run, only to be blocked by Hel's reaper. She remembered all too well the breathless sting of the blade. It tore the wind from the lungs of its victims, left their blood cold, their body stiff. Eir backed away from the blade, feeling Hel's cold hand on her shoulder once again.

She was caught, there would be no running away.

Hel caressed Eir's face and spoke, her voice crackling like wool. "My child. Why do you wear that scared look upon your face?"

"Because, I am scared mother." Eir said quietly.

"Then you should have killed her."

Hel's hand plunged into Eir's chest, gripping her heart. Eir tried to grab the spectral arms in vain. Her body felt cold, the blood in her veins had become ice. Lyfjaberg fell from her grip.

Eir felt as if she was suffocating again. She felt trapped in the icy prison of her mother's spectral body. She couldn't scream or thrash against her prison. Blackness began creep in, taking her.

Eir 12/12HP synchronizes with Hel!

Hel was in control now.

Hel moved towards Celephais, cutting down every villager that dared cross her path. Death's march pressed on, fueled by every life she took.

She faced down Celephais and pointed at her. "You have been marked for death."

Celephais stood, her chin jutting out defiantly.

Hel gleefully raised her reaper back and swung.

Hel 12/12HP hits Celephais 28.5/30HP with Focused Strike [Roll: 7 + 8 = 15; Hit, -3HP] POST-APOCALYPTIC SAVIOR activates! [Roll = 3; Celephais is not hit! Giant Bird A 7/10HP] Giant Bird A 7/10HP crits Hel 12/12HP with Gradivus [Roll: 18 + 4 = 22; -4.5HP, Hel 7.5/12HP]

But Celephais did not fall. Instead one of the giant birds took the hit.

It did not make it easier to label her the enemy.

High above the action, Hilda had so far escaped the notice of many of their opponents. One by one, their number dwindled, but with their near-untouchable central commander unleashing wave after wave of disorientating magic upon them, she refused to entertain any notion of a sure victory.

She spotted the enemy healer unprotected behind the adversary lines. For a moment, she hesitated. Her conscience warred against attacking somebody whilst defenceless. But her healing abilities could be the difference between triumph and defeat, and their attackers did not appear to share any reciprocal concerns.

Her wyvern dove.

Hilda 10/10HP misses Mairenn 10.5/15HP using Freikugel [Roll: 5 - 8 = -3; -0, Mairenn 10.5/15HP] Hilda 10/10HP crits Mairenn 10.5/15HP using Freikugel [Roll: 17 - 8 = 9] ILLUSORY MISTRESS activates! [Roll: 4] The attack hits an illusory double, Mairenn 10.5/15HP. Mairenn cannot counterattack!

Two attacks in quick succession, one thrown off by the haze of Celephais' magic, the other corrected just in time to land. The blade of her axe sliced upwards in a powerful arc that should have forced the gremory to her knees... Instead, the form flickered and dissipated, revealing the corporeal figure behind her, unharmed. Not defenceless after all, then.

"Agh!" Hilda let out a frustrated shout as soared back into the sky and circled around her allies. "I'm sorry... She tricked me! Be careful with that one."

Useless, useless, useless...

Their mood was boosted with each member of Team Rusalka which their allies took out. It was heartening to observe the teamwork taking place. The professor noticed Hilda attempting to strike Mairenn but something shimmery step in just before the attack to protect the target.

"I'll give it a go Hilda" Byleth called tagging in. Rushing forward they drew back their fist to land a blow on the illusionary maiden. However, their fist felt heavy and sluggish, the strike fell short. Frustrated, Byleth attempted to follow up, putting more of their strength into it. But like with Hilda, another illusionary double stepped in front of the mage once more.

Byleth 10/10HP misses and Critical hits Mairenn 10.5/15HP with Hrungnir [Roll: 4 - 8 = -4, 17 - 8 = 9; -4.5, Marienn 10.5/15HP] ILLUSORY MISTRESS activates! [Roll: 4] The attack hits an illusory double, Mairenn 10.5/15HP.

Isadora, who was just on her side dealing with overly curious villagers, stood against them. Their allies attack her, over and over, leaving her weakened until the strange shade that followed her took control.

Eir's stomach dropped. There could be no good that came with allowing the dead to control the living.

Hel raised her reaper towards the one in charge, the one who no one has managed to hit yet.

Celephais

The name is whispered into her ear. It speaks of dreams and forsaken duties....

Eir moved to attack him, but Hel stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. Eir looked back at the specter of her mother, who was still staring at their foe. She followed the length of the reaper, back towards Celephais as another body fell. A spell surged from Celephais's body, ensnaring everyone it touched. Hel's reaper kept the spell away from Eir, but others were not so lucky. She watched as they began to struggle to find the will necessary to fight, some of them turning sluggish.

Hel's hand disappears from Eir's shoulder, the reaper still pointing towards Celephais. The foe was marked for death.

While their foe remained distracted with their spell, Eir sent Lyfja flying.

Eir 7.5/12 hits Celephais 30/30HP at range with Lyfjaberg [Roll 17 + 4 = 21; -1.5HP] POST-APOCALYPTIC SAVIOR activates! [Roll = 1; Celephais is hit! 28.5/30HP] Celephais cannot counter!

The will to live in Celephais leaves Lyfja unable to do much. Eir looked around to her allies hoping to find someone who could help her, but the moment she tried to stray from Hel, Eir found the curve of the reaper keeping her in place.

More of her allies allow the specters to take over, seeing only benefit from it, calling upon the strength of the wraiths.

The reaper inched closer to Eir, and as if on instinct she stepped backwards towards her mother's spirit, feeling the cold grip of death on her skin. She whipped her head over her shoulder, her heart racing and her eyes wide. The familiar cruelty and lust for power was painted on the specter of Hel.

Again, Eir was nothing more than a way for Hel to gain more power.

Eir ducked away from the reaper and took off running as fast as she could as she saw more of her allies preparing to allow the specters to take over.

"Wait! Wait don't!" She tried to call out, her pleas falling on deaf ears.

Yet with the falling walls came some glimmer of hope: through the gloom, familiar faces emerged, filthy but mostly unharmed. Hilda, unable to help herself, ran forwards to wrap Chrom into a hug.

"You're alive! What happened to you guys?"

But, whilst whole again, the team did not have the luxury of time for tearful reunions. They had no sooner found each other in the darkness than fallen into ranks, out of necessity to protect themselves from the ensuing carnage.

Hilda jumped astride her wyvern and soared into the sky. The aerial view revealed a figure protected behind an artillery weapon, surveying the battlefield for his first target. He had yet to spot her hovering above. Well, she was nothing if not an opportunist. She dived.

Hilda 10/10HP misses Lonan 20/20HP using Freikugel [Roll: 6 - 4 = 2; -0, Lonan 20/20HP] Hilda 10/10HP misses Lonan 20/20HP using Freikugel [Roll: 4 - 4 = 0; -0, Lonan 20/20HP] Lonan cannot counterattack.

But the swish of wings through a rare lull in the din tipped the cannoneer off to her approach. He ducked behind the cover of his weapon just in the nick of time. She was at least fortunate enough to be too close for him to wheel the cannon around to face her.

And at his side? The false face of his lord, plated in that crimson and ichor-hued armor, upholding his honor even in his falsity ( where was that when you fled your people? Left them to die? You aren't real . . . )

Even then, there is familiarity in serving alongside his liege --- the timbre of his voice and aura of his presence, even if they should be fake illusions of the real one. It was enough to keep him afloat --- to propel one foot in front of the other to make it back to the real one, half mangled or not.

"We don't have time for reunions, kid," He grumbles to the pink girl, and then she's off, assailing their foe with brutality atop a winged beast ( one much too different than the kinshi of Hoshido for his liking . . . )

The boy --- that boy from the week prior, the one that had bumped into him --- has been stripped of his guard, but the ghostly-ness of his own image suggest that physical brutality wouldn't be in his arsenal for this battle: it would be the magical sort.

Saizo 6.5/12HP hits Lonan 20/20HP with Iron Sword [Roll: 16 - 4 = 12; -1HP, Lonan 19/20HP] Saizo 6.5/12HP hits Lonan 19/20HP with Iron Sword [Roll: 8 - 4 = 4; -1HP, Lonan 18/20HP] Lonan cannot counterattack!

He bounds for the boy, sliding past and skimming his blade along the boy's flesh, arms protectively crossed across his chest; with nimbleness and dexterity, and replicates the maneuver, sliding to a halt alongside where the girl and her beast hover.

"Mother, I will not seek your forgiveness for my actions..." She fought to keep her voice even. "But I will forgive you for yours." Her voice cracks on the last word, a lump forming in her throat.

Hel smiles, it is warm and welcoming as Death should be.

The spirit of her mother raises her reaper, pointing it towards a boy with a canon. Eir understood the instruction.

"Yes mother."

Eir 7.5/12HP hits Lonan 18/20HP with Lyfjaberg [Roll: 12 - 4 = 8; -1.5HP, Lonan 16.5/20HP] Eir 7.5/12HP hits Lonan 16/20HP with Lyfjaberg [Roll: 9 - 4 = 5; -1.5HP, Lonan 15/20HP] Lonan cannot counterattack!

Lyfjaberg flies from her hand, striking true twice before returning to her.

Today, however, was different. Today she slipped on a heavy cloak, removed her mask and pulled the think hood over her head to hide her eyes so that she could walk about the Surface without issue.

Without much issue.

Around the Monastery it seemed that heavy cloaks and hidden faces met with extra scrutiny. Fair, but time consuming, and this guard was extra obnoxious. Most people were simply being given a once over glance, probably guard noting who to keep an eye on. This one guard however decided to stop her and loudly demand who she was. Thrasir kept her gaze forward, almost deciding to ignore this idiot and move on.

The stranger tried to push past the guard, only to be grabbed and yanked back, revealing a familiar flash of red and skeleton.

Eir moved quickly to intervene. "She's with me." She tries to block as much as she can of Thrasir's body with her own, trying to conceal her undead nature. "We're meeting up to study for an exam, it's rather important so may we go?"

The guard muttered something about students and their weird trends, but let them go. Eir grabbed Thrasir's wrist and quickly pulled her away before any prying eyes could stare.

When they stopped, all Eir could do was look at her in disbelief. "Why?"

(Funny, how wars were waged by the same name.)

But where Selena waits, senses, feels—the battle rages on; her liege attacks her fellow professor, and the snapping of chains as it flies and then is drawn back returns her to her senses.

Steady, like stone—she breathes until her focus is sharpened like a whetstone; as the spear returns to him, Selena darts forward, another bead in hand:

“Please, withdraw.”

Selena attacks Vigarde with RED BEADS:

Roll: 18 - 2 = 16—HIT.

Vigarde: 7.5/10HP

And it crashes against his armor, an explosion of light and mist hued red like an angry sky—the clouds dissipate, wisping away like the thought of more idyllic days, and when it clears:

BELOVED activates!

Vigarde retreats from the battlefield.

He is gone. (As he should be; as he was.)

It is then that Selena realizes the state of the battlefield—the other Newcomer has already withdrawn, leaving just the remaining villagers (5 of them, she counts, as one has already fallen to the ground, motionless). Her allies were handling themselves well, though she does not recall Andrei getting so injured—another pang in her chest, exacerbating that already uneasy feeling.

ET TU? activates!

Selena: 3 Ruin

It is nearly enough to make up for their lack of formation, and his allies are scattered as the villagers make their attacks. The woman he'd managed to sidestep in the alleyway rushes toward him, lance thrusting upwards. Andrei tries to steer Buttermilk away, a second too late.

villager a attacks andrei with tempest lance (13): 4 damage andrei hp: 5/10 andrei counters with rienfleche (12, 23): 6 damage andrei takes 2 recoil damage! villager a hp: 2/10 andrei hp: 3/10

As soon as he clears the minimal distance, Andrei shoots out two arrows in retaliation, pain exploding up his arm with the attack. "Guh...!" Nearly dropping the bow altogether from the aftershock, Andrei could only nudge his stallion away from the thick of battle to fight for a moment's breath. His side throbs from the cleanly connected hit of the enemy's lance, blood beginning to seep sluggishly through the ripped tunic.

You cannot rest here. The battle isn't nearly over.

He does exchange the weapon in his trembling hands for his Brave Bow once more, scanning the enemies around them. The villager with the lance has retreated after his counterattack, bleeding from the two arrow wounds embedded in her side, and he raises his bow. She cannot be allowed to attack again.

andrei attacks villager a with brave bow (14): 2 damage villager a hp: 0/10 villager a is defeated! last hit is nat8. obligate heir is activated!

Even the easier draw is still painful, but he hasn't done nearly enough. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he aims for another villager, one wielding a sword with a jagged edge who still seems the most fighting fit of the gathered villagers. If he could time his hits, though...

galeforce activates! andrei attacks villager d with brave bow (18, 13): 6 damage villager d cannot counterattack!

The distance precludes any retribution for his attack, but while the enemy cries out in pain, he remains on his feet. Just one more...! But as Andrei raises his bow again, his vision wavers for the first time, the steady bleeding in his side taking its toll.

No...! At this rate, I can't...

As though in answer to his rider's thoughts, Buttermilk suddenly gallops forward, letting out a whinny as he charges towards the enemy, closing the distance enough to compensate for Andrei's deteriorating aim. Seizing the chance, the rider lines up and looses one more arrow.

defiant speed! andrei follows up (19): 3 damage villager d hp: 0/10 villager d is defeated! final hit is nat11. obligate heir is activated!

The villager falls, then, leaving them with only three. Buttermilk retreats a safe distance again, but Andrei keeps his eyes fixed on their remaining enemies. Victory might be in sight, but he cannot afford to falter. He and his allies will not be trapped here.

Deep breaths Deep breaths... Deep... Breaths...

Deep... Breaths...

The dirt beneath her feet was a rich brown, too perfect, too free of life. The air was too clean, almost bitter and acidic. The clothes she wore were scratchy linen with bright yellow and pink. Her head is throbbing. There are a symphony of shouts from the living, sizzling spells and clanging metal.

She is alive. Hel is dead. She is not a helpless child anymore.

She looked about the battle field, finding the archer leaning heavily on his horse and clutching his side. One of the villagers prepared an attack and Eir ran to intercept the spell.

Villager B 2.5/10HP targets Eir 9/12HP with Mire [Roll 6+4=10 hit! -1.5HP Eir 7.5/12HP] Eir is inflicted with -1def

That word is enough to pierce him through the effects of the trance, the call of something like salvation a beacon's light through the darkness.

There is no other answer.

Then they are at the entrance of the village a mere moment later, and Buttermilk's reins are in his hands. Andrei's heart pounds. This is the confirmation he seeks, is it not? That none of this is real, that they are at the cusp of fighting for the right to leave the illusion for the real world.

He mounts his steed in a fluid motion, bow raised a mere second later. If the villagers will fight to keep them trapped here, then he will ensure their end.

andrei attacks villager e with brave bow (hunter's volley): 7 damage villager e hp: 0/10 final hit is nat12. obligate heir is activated!

Instead of fading into the shadows or exploding in that familiar shower of crystals, the villager simply... falls, as so many enemies had before his arrows.

(It is not what he'd expected. He cannot allow this to sway his conviction.)

Buttermilk circles the group of enemies as Andrei considers his options. The enemies might not be strong, but they are nearly equal in number, even after the defeat of one and the retreat of the other. If the fight is allowed to drag on...

Every moment wasted might only trap them deeper in the illusion. He must end it, as quickly as possible, no matter the cost. Andrei reaches for the other bow at his back.

andrei attacks villager c with rienfleche (waning shot): 3.5 damage villager c hp: 6.5/10 andrei takes 1 recoil damage! andrei hp: 9/10 final hit is nat4. obligate heir is not activated!

The arrow flies out, striking a solid hit against the axe-wielding villager, his bow arm paying for the extra strength with the unpleasant whiplash sensation that had always accompanied the use of this weapon, no matter how much he'd practiced with it in an effort to offset the negative effects.

Perhaps it is merely because he is still too weak, but at least... at least, he can still reach out, strain himself to grasp at the power he needs.

Even as he is aware of its cost, he will still seek it, time and again, allowing it to destroy him from within if he can attain his goals.

She feels it rising in her again. The anger, the helplessness, the fear. All things she thought she had long subdued. Her ears are pounding, screaming with blood, the battle is loud as weapons clang against each other and the air is warm and her heart is pounding and there are tears in her eyes.

And then suddenly,

Quiet.

The battle seems to slow. Suddenly everything is clear. Like when her mother asked her why she wore a sad face upon her death.

She surged forward to the villager with an axe, the one that Andrei has weakened and gets a decent nick in on them. The villager retaliates with a strike of their own, sending Eir stumbling.

Eir 9/12HP uses (melee) Sunder against Villager C 6.5/10HP [Roll:9 AUTO CRIT 3-2def= -1HP Villager C 5.5/10] Villager C 5.5/10 counters Eir 9/12 with Bulky Hatchet [Roll 13-4=9 HIT 2-(-2str) -0HP Eir 9/12]

"If ya just stayed I wouldn't have had to hit ya." The villager said.

Eir hears red as she struggles to stand. She sees the ringing in her ears. Her senses twist and confuse her and all she can remember is being a child with Hel's reaper above her.

If you had just ----- I wouldn't have to kill you.

E tu activates, Eir gains 1 Ruin

"I thought I saw..." she said, trailing off in doubt.

And then, the shape solidified. There truly was something ahead of them; but the pink hair she thought she'd spied was nowhere in sight. Eir bravely stepped forward to investigate. Her outburst came as a shock, and Hilda was momentarily taken aback.

"I... I don't know!"

The revelation was not totally unexpected; if she had been taking bets on the identities of the secret murderers, Eir wouldn't have exactly been an underdog. Yet somehow, she believed the claim that the Lion had not been the culprit in Holst's murder. She gave a curt nod.

"Obviously, something strange is happening..." Hilda mused. She gazed off through a steel-barred fence and...

"Wait, is there something else over there?" She swung herself up onto her wyvern. "Hop on, let's go check it out."

Movement: 3

"I'm sorry-- I hope you don't mind." Isadora mumbles before watching Hilda climb on. "Oh-- wait, you want.. ok. I see." She easily mounted herself on the wyvern. She was used to horseback - but this? This was new, so when they landed, Isadora found herself rather wobbly.

"Ah... I see it, it's over there. Just... give me a minute"

Movement -- 1

Another body. This one stabbed in the chest and the finger removed. It's impossible to tell if he suffered the removal while alive or dead...

Time moved in almost a haze, the question piercing the back of their minds... Were they really going to leave?

Will you stay in Rusalka and defend it or will you try and make your escape back to reality?

They made their way back to meet up with the others and some how ended up at the entrance of the village when they were confronted by the villagers, unwilling to let them leave.

"Are you going to prevent us from leaving when I brought death to your doorstep?" Eir asked.

"Why must people die? Why must we keep being chased by death like this? Don't we deserve to be happy? After everything we've been through?" one villager begins to cry, growing mad. Their voice echoes and echoes. You don't even see their lips flap to the correct timing, but you can't escape their cries.

"It's unfair!" "He lied to us!" "I want to be free of war!" "I want to be at peace again!" Different voices cry out, overlapping, difficult to tell where they're all coming from. You recognize these voices yet you don't-- but you feel suddenly how overbearing it all is--

Eir tightened her grip on Lyfjaberg. A fight was inevitable.

"Maybe it was one of the things they built after they kicked everyone out?" she suggested. "Maybe we should check it out..."

Her voice trailed off as she caught sight of something in the opposite direction. It might have been a trick of the light, or possibly wishful thinking, but through the gloom, she thought that she caught a glimpse of a prone shape with... pink her.

Movement: 5

"Wait, is that...?" she murmured to herself. Abruptly, she headed in that direction without wasting a moment explaining the diversion to the other two.

When Isadora looked around the room, it just seemed like a branch off from the main path they were on she almost deemed it a waste of time until squinting, deep in the gloom she thought she saw a figure, curiously she took a few steps forward.

Movement -- 3

She stopped suddenly, her eyes widening. Did the figure.. move? Or maybe it was just a trick of the eye. Not willing to test it out, Isadora cleared her throat. "There's something up ahead." The knight stated, turning her head to look towards her team.

Eir took the initiative and continued forward. There was a tarp, wrapped around a corpse. She opened the tarp and frowned.

Roll 1d6=4 2d6= 3, 2 (no ruin) 3d6= 1,3,2 (one ruin) 4d6= 3,5,4,3 (one ruin, one body)

She found a familiar corpse. It was one she had taken care of earlier. Anger began to rise. "He should be outside of the walls. Why is he back?" She turned to her two companions, anger cracking her usually emotionless face. "Why is he back!? I took him outside of the walls!"

She grit her teeth and clenched her fists. "Before you accuse me of anything I had nothing to do with either of your loved ones deaths. Had it been me, it would have been a merciful death. No suffering through poison or dismemberment, just a kiss from Lyfja before being taken outside of the walls. Which is where HE should be!"

"Oh, that's so kind! Thank you!" she said brightly, her gritted teeth only slightly souring the false tone. "We've actually got the search covered, but there's something else you could do for us, if you'd be willing? Could you find our friends and let them know that we're looking for them?"

Roll: 1; The villager leaves.

The woman nodded enthusiastically. "Of course, of course! Anything I can do to help in these trying times." The look in her eye was slightly crazed as she went dashing off into the haze.

Hilda looked sheepishly at the other two. "Well... it got her off our back, at least."

Eir took a step forward, there didn't seem to be anything here either.

Something in the distance caught her eye. "Up there? What is that?"

Just past the wall was a tall structure... "Has that always been there?"

Movement: 3

They moved into another large chamber. She squinted through the shadows, but it was difficult to make anything out. After a few uncertain steps, she halted.

Isadora rubbed her head, dealing with these villager was nothing more then a headache. She and the rest of the team walk over towards what seems to be just a pile of junk lying in the middle of it all.

Movement -- 4; Arrived at space 11!

"If the gods are on our side for once maybe there will be something here" She chuckles lightly, searching through the pile thoroughly.

Search -- 2; Spotted by a villager!

"uhmm." an unfamiliar voice spoke up and Isadora knew what that meant. She backs away from the pile as a villager walks towards them. "what are you guys doing?? are you looking for something?" the villager asks "I can help you find it! i know this place like the back of my hand" she said, rather proudly.

Isadora covers her face with her hands "Im simply looking for something that I lost... I already have all the help I need here" She motions to Hilda and Eir.

The villager did not move an inch, unnerving smile plastered on their face. "Whatcha loose? I'm good at finding things! I can help!!"

"Does no one in this village sleep?" Eir asked.

"Please, sir, my friend needs her energy right now. I'm sure you've noticed that Rusalka doesn't feel safe right now. If we're attacked and Eir is too weak to defend herself, she could be seriously hurt..." Her voice lowered conspiratorially. "... Or worse."

Wait them out: 6. The villager does not leave.

His eyes widened and he nodded solemnly, and for a second, Hilda dared to hope that she had successfully convinced him.

But then: "You're right. It isn't safe. I will come with you, and protect you from harm!" He puffed out his rather insubstantial chest with these words.

"That's... so kind..." Even with every ounce of effort behind it, Hilda wasn't sure her bright tone was very convincing. A muscle ticked in her tense jaw.

A meaningful gaze was directed towards her two companions, communicating something along the lines of We need to get rid of this guy!

Wait the villager out = 2. The villager leaves

The man gives a small wave "O-Oh of course, my appologies, I shall leave you 3 to it… be careful" he gives them a bow before walking off. Isadora let out a very exaggerated relieved sigh "Thank the gods" She mumbled, turning her attention to the lock.

Lockpicking = 3; a villager approches!

"Excuse--" A villager walked over, but Isadora very quickly whips her head around, giving a sudden aggressive smile "We are FINE. Thank you." The two stared at each other in silence, Isadora still had her hand on the lock.

""Wait"" the villager out = 1. The villager ""leaves"" flees

They... stand there awkwardly before suddenly turning around to leave. Once they were gone a good distance Isadora shakes her head "If Harken was good of anything.. it was to be used as a good excuse... ill give him that.." She mumbles standing up and moving away from the door.

She slides Lyfaberg into the lock, breaking it open. In her shock she lets the lock drop to the ground with a loud clatter.

Another villager showed up. Eir swallowed the mix of frustration and anxiety that rose in her throat.

"Oh I heard you guys were having trouble with this lock and came to check it out! Yeah it's pretty stubborn, glad you got it open!" The villager stooped down to pocket the lock. "I'll get this fixed. Good luck on your quest!" Thankfully the villager did not stay long.

Eir breathed a sigh of relief. "Let's continue."

The group happened upon a locked door. She rattled it once for good measure. Definitely locked. The other two looked uncertainly at her, as if she would know what to do. She did not. The lock clattered uselessly in her hands, remaining stubbornly closed.

Lockbreaking: 1. Your muse is unable to pick/break the lock. Villagers: 2. Your muse is discovered by a villager of Rusalka.

"Are you lost?"

The voice made her jump and immediately straighten with her back to the door, the picture of feigned innocence.

"Oh! Um... We were just... Looking for a shortcut!" she said with a forced lock, hoping the villager would move on.

Wait them out: 3. The villager does not leave.

They did not.

"Ah! Well, this door is usually locked. I can show you the way to wherever you'd like to go?" the villager responded with a smile that didn't reach their eyes.

Hilda's equally fake smile was strained as she looked to the other two for help.

light die roll --1 dark die roll -- 2

Isadora huffs, her eyes narrowing and her smile fading "Why? Can you not open it?" This sudden out burst was… out of character for Isadora, she knew this but it did not stop her outlash "We just want to get through this gate, its quicker this way like my comrade had said earlier" her eyes glanced over at Hilda, a little reminder that she had to stay calm.

But her thoughts are interrupted as in the corner of her eyes, she saw the villager lunge closer to her, instinctively she quickly backs away "What-- What are you doing!?" Isadora shouted. The villager kept their smile "Ill show you the way. Come with me!" They said, trying once again to grab Isadora's arm.

"Stop it! Get away from me!"

helping roll-1

"Please!" Eir grabbed both the villager's wrist and Isadora's arm. Her voice remains calm and soft. "Her beloved left her a map to follow should anything unfortunate were to happen. He claimed it would lead her to a life of comfort and peace even if he was not there to provide it. He... He asked her to go alone, but as you all have requested that we travel in groups of three we are doing as you wish."

The villager's face contorted in confusion. "How do you know what he said? I didn't see you anywhere near them at the engagement or the wedding."

Panic began to rise in her, though her face was unflinching. "I can speak to the dead!"

She could, technically... But certainly not in the way this villager would believe. "Um... I... As the princess of the lands of death and life I can be a bridge between both and provide comfort to the living allowing them one last chance to speak to their loved ones." She could not do this. She had no wish to do this.

Eir nodded, giving a fake smile. She needed this conversation to end... "May we continue to aid Isadora...?" The villager looked the three of them over for a moment before sighing.

"Who am I to interfere with the wishes of a departed lover? Keep careful and watch each other." The villager released Isadora, Eir released them both, and the villager returned on their nightly patrol.

Once the villager was out of earshot, Eir leaned against the wall, her hands in her head. There's a darkness growing in Isadora... It's concerning...

-1 to Eir's next roll locking picking roll- 2-1=1 Villager Roll=6

Alas another villager comes up to them. "Sorry did you say you could talk to the dead?"

It takes all of her will power for her jaw not to drop. Of course... This is where lying would take her. "Yes but... I can only do it so often... It... It's been too soon since speaking to Isadora's beloved..." Eir didn't even remember his name... "I... I need time..."

"Aw come on I just wanna see, can't you do it real quick for me?"

Eir looked to her two companions, praying one of them could help her out of this.