#arcadiagricenchos2019

[gallantgautier]

Where I can’t Follow (Sylvain & Felix)

Departure Starter for @fraldariius

“Have no fear, for the Goddess will guide you all.”

The words had rung in his head for several days, time spent between checking his team assignment and preparation. The first port of call had been to scour his room for every book then even contained a passing mention of Almyra, cataloguing the titles to skip over when he makes a trip to the library. The second had been to check the condition of his armour, finding weaknesses to highlight to the smith. The third, unplanned, was to think in circles about his best friend.

He’s going to Sreng, the thought lodged itself next to the steady next to the droning of Goddess and guide and fear. He’s going to Sreng and I’m not. He’s going to Sreng and I won’t be there. He’s going to Sreng and I can’t watch his back. He’s going to Sreng and the envoy was found dead this morning and what if…? What if?

Which is… Fine, right? He’s a far more capable warrior than himself, he has other capable warriors on his team. He’ll be just fine, others will have his back, and he knows enough about the conflict at the border to know what he’s marching into. Doesn’t he?

But does he know about the poisons the tribesmen coat their weapons in? His brain unhelpfully supplies. Does he know about the sinkholes caused by the giant worms that make their homes there? Does he know how cold it gets at night?

Scrubbing a hand through his hair with a frustrated growl, he reaches towards his desk and swipes something small off of it and pockets it, his door swinging on his hinges as he powerwalks down the corridor towards the training grounds.

And of course he’s there, the tiny doubt that had made something feel like an uncomfortable bubble in his chest popping at the sight of him, finally letting him breathe. Where else would he have been? He crosses the sand, stopping far enough away to not hinder his friend’s swings, and waits.

[flowerofiris]

Don’t Ever Let Go (Gricenchos Open)

The forest was a bit of a spooky place, but that was what made her job so much more important. Scouting ahead was helpful, and Nino really liked being helpful! She took her job very seriously, making sure every nook and cranny was inspected. The only problem was that she could never remember where she was... some place that started with an S, she thought? Oh well. It seemed pretty nice, anyway.

It was getting dark out. Nino had been walking for a while, but she knew the camp wasn’t too far behind her. She would get back to them and make everyone and make them really proud of her! She prepared to turn around, when...

“The brats are just up ahead, right?”

“Yeah. We’ll hit ‘em from every direction. It’ll be a massacre.”

Nino gasped quietly, but tried to keep control of herself. No... No. This scouting mission was going so well, why did it have to end like this? She had to get back to camp. Everyone was in danger...! With a sense of urgency, she started running back. She could see the camp, but as if taken by some sort of spell, she felt herself running in slow motion. She begged her legs to go faster, but they refused. It felt as if she was running while underwater, accompanied by that drowning feeling... only it was the cold grip of anxiety, rather than water.

So close... So far... She could make out everyone so clearly, having a good time as they felt safe because of her. Cynthia looked like she was telling a funny story, to which Lorenz and Edelgard listened intently while Felix didn’t look very amused... but they all still looked like they were having a great time, Felix included. Nino kept trying, but she couldn’t get closer. She screamed. She screamed as loud as she could, to tell them to watch out, that there were enemies, that they were all in danger. But she couldn’t even hear her own voice, just a muffled echo. They couldn’t hear her. She screamed until her lungs gave out. She begged. She cried.

But it was too late.

Before the four could draw their weapons, the bandits were on the attack. She felt her legs starting to move faster, but only because grim reality began to dawn on her. Lorenz and Cynthia had already fallen to the ground, their cheerful selves twisted into faces that she could barely recognize. Felix had been backed into the forest of the trees, so far that Nino could not see him, fighting for his life with the wounds he had been given.

Nino screamed even louder as she began to enter the campground, noticing the man who crept up behind Edelgard, desperately trying to defend herself as the man held an axe behind her. Edelgard. Edelgard. She kept screaming. Edelgard. Mom. Anything. Please, look behind you, please look behind you, oh god, it was too late, she could see her face, their eyes met just before the axe connected, Edelgard, no, it was all her fault, this was her doing, she failed, she failed, Edelgard, Edelgard please get up, Edelgard we were going to return safely, please wake up, Edelgard, Edelgard, Edelgard, Edelgard

“EDELGARD!”

Nino awoke with the shout she desperately tried to convey in her dreams. Covered in sweat and tears, her blankets a thrashed around mess, in the tiny and somewhat cramped room she had to stay in for her time. It was another nightmare... Nino started crying, holding onto her blankets. She hated this. She hated being away from home for so long, not knowing how the people she loved and cared about were doing. It didn’t matter to her that the dream was fake, that she wasn’t with that group, she was in Almyra with Hubert and Sylvain. What mattered was that it could have happened. It could have happened right at that moment, too. And she would be equally useless to stop it.

Still in her pajamas, not caring if any soldiers saw her and teased her, she left her room to go outside for a walk. Walks always helped her feel better... but this wasn’t familiar territory. She wanted to find flowers to skip through, so that she could get some energy back. There were no flowers. She wanted to find Mercedes who would hug her and tell her everything would be okay. There was no Mercedes. She tried to think of the people who would be willing to help her through everything... but everyone was asleep. She’d just be obnoxious if she was going to them about something as childish as a nightmare, especially since she already had so many. Why did they get to her so much?

Nino tried looking for any semblance of scenery to admire, but she hit a wall. A corner, to be specific. She didn’t turn around to try the other walls. She knew she’d just find nothing in this miserable fort. All she could do was kneel on the ground, sit in the corner, and cry.

And cry she did.

“I want to go home... I want to go home... I hate it here, I hate it so much... everyone’s so mean to us, the soldiers resent us, the bandits want to kill us or even kidnap us, and there’s that giant tiger... I just want to go home... why can’t we just go home...?”

[toconquerfate]

familiar shadows

To say Xander was worried was an understatement.

He had a group of children in his care (none of them had seen war before, none of them seen proper battle like this, so they were still children, even those who were 19 and 20. he was to command children to risk their lives, and it disgusted him that the nations here promoted such barbarism.) He had Kana and Shigure under his care (they couldn’t get hurt, he wouldn’t let them- gods know he’d never be able to face corrin again, especially if either of them died- he wouldn’t let them. he couldn’t let corrin hurt like that again. azura’s death had been hard enough on her.) So, he was worried. Which meant he couldn’t sleep because he was too busy thinking about the tactics proposed for the skirmish tomorrow and all following battles and how to improve them, how to minimize student injuries.

So he was sitting on his cot, squinting in the scant candlelight at the 13th page of possible strategies- this one handled a possible sneak attack tomorrow- trying to determine where to position himself so as to protect the majority of the students while also allowing them to contribute to the battle without putting them at too much risk, but it was at that point that the other faculty started streaming back into the tent, yawning and mumbling about going to sleep. Xander knew full well he’d keep them up if he stayed, so he packed his papers and quill and slipped out, heading towards the tactics tent. He’d spent plenty a night there already, drafting various plans and handling the paperwork his colleagues neglected to complete- well, both in the tactics tent and the makeshift training grounds. If he didn’t train, he’d lose his touch, would lose the edge that let him block enemy swings so easily, to protect them- another late night wouldn’t kill him, it hadn’t during the war, it hadn’t over the 3 years he’d spent rebuilding Nohr, and it wouldn’t happen now either.

As he pulled open the flap of the tent, he froze, blinking in shock at the shadow hunched over the table, examining the various positions and deployments with such an intensity Xander was half convinced he’d walked into the room in the castle Niles and Beruka had commandeered. They turned it into a their personal tactics room for a number of... operations that Xander turned a blind eye to- the amount of corruption among the noble class in Nohr drastically dropped, and that was all that mattered- that it helped the whole of the Nohrian people, rather than perpetuating a system that left thousands destitute and homeless.

But this shadow of a man was rather different from the retainers Xander was familiar with- he had a mage’s build, for one, and his hair was a stark black, which stood out from Niles’s unnerving shock of white hair and Beruka’s muted blue. Then he remembered where he’d seen the shadow, how he always clung to corners and walls only to vanish when you turned your head away for a moment, always watching, always listening. With his ashen skin, ink black hair, and piercing eyes, the boy struck an imposing figure, certainly, but this was also a student, and with the skirmish the next day and all the preparations that entailed- the boy should be asleep.

“Ah,” he started, shuffling the papers in his hands. “I was not aware that anyone else was here at this hour, so you have my apologies for barging in unexpectedly. However,” he frowned. “you’re still a student, however- please, go, rest. Let us instructors worry about the tactics of our approach. After all, the more sleep you have, the sharper you are in battle, and even a hair of sharpness can be the difference between life and death amidst that chaos.” He glanced again at the student, thinking back on how similar his posture was to Beruka’s- like a snake, coiled and ready to bite at any moment. He hummed. “...You do not have to answer this, though you have my word that I will not report you to any kind of authorities if you answer in the positive, but... Do you handle the... unsavory and often messy work of a noble or royal here in Fódlan?” He laughed a bit, soft and warm. “I’m sorry, that likely sounds rude, but you... you seem the type- in my country, such people are nearly a necessity. My younger sister and younger brother both have such people as their royal retainers- Leo has a former thief and mercenary, and Camilla has an assassin for hire. It is the hard work that keeps a kingdom running, work that royals either will not do or cannot do due to reputation, yet work that is needed nonetheless. though morally... dubious at best, it is for the good of the whole as I have seen it done.”

                                                                                                   @vonvestra

[timescursedmark]

A Sounding Horn, a Small Healer, and a Sword Hand

(Starter for @healingmist​)

In a screwed up way, Owain was kind of relieved when the sound of a horn rang out through the desert village and the people around began to take up weapons and arm themselves. He felt immediately guilty that he felt relieved, but he did feel relieved; he really didn’t like people dying, and he still had moments of doubt and sadness about the many people he’d killed, even after Inigo had comforted him on that matter so long ago. And not only that, but it brought memories of days alone, after leaving the future and leaving for Fodlan, days which had been cold and tired and sad.

But in comparison to worrying, waiting, knowing that the sword that was Grima hanging over his head could drop at any moment, being left to stay and ruminate on his fear and-- well-- at least fighting bandits was something that he knew how to do. It came naturally, and it would distract him, prevent him from having to think. He would only have to perform his act, and fight. He could do those things!

So, frankly, it was with some enthusiasm that he was off like a shot, sprinting towards the edge of the village, where a group of men -- not overwhelmingly massive, but enough that there would be a serious fight on people’s hands. Elsewhere, Owain saw others sallying out to fight the raiders, though at this distance he couldn’t identify them as Almyran or Fodlanian. As for his own little stretch of village... ah! There was someone else here, a fairly small and teenaged girl who appeared to be a healer to Owain’s eyes: despite her swords, she had staves on her back.

A teenaged girl and a healer... Owain’s face set. She wasn’t blonde, but she dredged up some memories of his time with Chrom anyway, and he decided he would make sure that she didn’t get hurt. For now, though, that just meant announcing himself to both her and the incoming raiders --a fairly motley bunch, to be honest, but with some wicked-looking weapons-- in the way that only he would. 

Owain advanced into sight, bright yellow jacket over his uniform, and a sword in each hand, and then positioned himself so that the raiders would run into him before they encountered the healer girl. In one hand was the red, lethally sharp Killing Edge, practically singing out for blood (even though it was in fact an inanimate object and could not do that), and in the other one was Missiletainn, with an intricate enough look (such as the fancy hilt he’d put together himself) that Owain was sure nobody would notice that it was garbage. “FOUL VILLAINS!! You know not who you have decided to cross today with your malicious advance! I come from a faraway land, from which I bring skills honed by an eternal search for bloody justice!! I am OWAIN DARK, and my cursed sword hand cries out for battle! If you do not halt your advance and flee, your life shall truly be forfeit!”

Yeah, it didn’t really seem to be working.

[dragon-kiddos]

⚔️- "Little prince, it has been quite some time, has it not?" He smiles warmly, a hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "Though, I would have preferred us to reunite in a situation with less combat involved..." He hums thoughtfully, thinking on the little dragon's mother. "Oh, why don't we spar? You can show me how much your skill with the sword has improved since we last spoke." He draws his sword, taking position. "Whenever you're ready, little prince."

Danger Lurking Around Every Turn (Team Gricenchos Ask Meme) || ⚔️ Sparring [1 crit required]

It seems some things never change. Though his interactions with Xander before joining the war effort were sparse, Kana recalls fondly the times Xander would ask to spar with him (much to his parents’ chagrin, young as Kana was yet still holding a yearn to fight). The sight of the king taking a battle stance was all too familiar and set off a spark inside his chest—he’s more than ready to fight.

“You’ll never know how much I appreciate this kind of thing, Lord Uncle,” he admits, rolling back his shoulders and cracking his neck before finally unsheathing his own blade. “Oftentimes, people refuse to spar with me since they’re scared they’ll hurt me. You never looked down on me like they do.” 

A slow exhale. Fingers tighten around the hilt of his sword. Gaze is turned upwards toward the king and he lunges forward.

[ Kana rolls: 5. Miss! ] 

As was to be expected. Xander dodges neatly out of the way of his quick downward swipe. He knows already that they’re playing under the same rules that had been ingrained in his mind from the very first match they ever performed: first to land a devastating blow wins. Though it’s looking to be a slow start, Kana is not deterred. 

“Don’t think I haven’t grown, Uncle,” he speaks in a low voice. “I’m just getting started.” 

[taciturnwindwielder-blog]

Budding Buddies

It had not taken Soren long to organize each member of the questing group into pairs of partners, given the small number. He wondered if there were enough units to defeat a real monster, but knew from experience that fighting alongside a trusted partner gave a real, measurable boost in battle, and focusing on fighting with the same partner whenever possible could increase that boost and the strength of the bond. It could even determine one’s future, to a degree.

The buddy system was not to be underestimated, overlooked, or ignored.

All that remained was to inform the team members of their partnerships. He found himself first at the residence of Sylvain Jose Gautier, the notorious skirt chaser. He knocked, waited, and in time, the door swung open.

“Hello. I am Soren, a mercenary working for the Knights of Seiros. I take it you are Sylvain Jose Gautier? We have both been assigned to the mission to Almyra. As the only non-student on the team, I am something of a leader by default. I have taken it upon myself to proactively assign partners for battle. I have come to inform you that you have been assigned to be partners with Miss Nino. If you have any objections, questions, or feel a mistake has been made, please inform me as soon as possible.” Nearly out of breath from saying so much at once, Soren stopped and waited for some form of acknowledgement from Sylvain.

@gallantgautier

[vonvestra]

Dread crawls down Claude's spine when he realizes that he trusts pretty much no one on the Almyra team. All of them are unknown to him, actual children, or certified messes. He approaches Hubert with a heavy heart, though his usual smile masks it. "Hey Bertie! Heard you were going to Almyra. With you being Edelgard's left /and/ right hands, we ought to switch teams, huh? Anyways, you better not cause any trouble over there. In the end, /I'm/ the one that'll have to deal with the aftermath."

Claude is clever. The over-familiarity of the nickname stops Hubert as if against his will and he turns to face the leader of the Deer with a look that is as exasperated as it is exhausted.

“If only it were possible,” he sighs with the shake of his head. He’s thought about how to switch teams a number of times already. But...

He scrutinizes Claude. The concern for Almyra rings with an odd note, ill-matched to that of a worried member of the Alliance, even its future leader. Perhaps had he been speaking on behalf of the Goneril territories, and yet... A piece clicks into place - tentatively, for now - and Hubert gives Claude a small bow.

“Of course. Any trouble caused will have ramifications for the whole of Fodlan as well. I will see to it that our unit leaves Almyra with its alliance in tact, however tenuous it may be.” He raises his head, but meets Claude’s gaze levelly. “We must be prudent.”

With one last nod, Hubert continues on his way again. Claude is clever, and should know that Edelgard will soon be made aware of the message hidden carefully in his warning. A piece that, if true, would make Claude’s mysterious background at last make sense.

But more importantly, a piece that could be played to the benefit of Edelgard’s ambitions.

[kitsuneiisms]

👹- He grits his teeth, holding his sword up to the deformed monster in front of him. "Selkie! I'll keep it occupied, you go around behind it and make a full attack! Stay out of it's sight while you move!" he barks, just barely managing to deflect the monstrosity's claws as it swipes at him. The smell is not unlike that of the Faceless, and that alone threatens to make him sick to his stomach. "Do your best to avoid being injured!"

Putrid, rancid, disgusting - this monster smelled the same as those back home, back in Hoshido, Nohr, Valla. It was repulsive and evil, yet at the same time Selkie couldn't help but pity the creature. Perhaps it had been human once, like the Faceless. If so, then it deserved a clean death.

That said, she was rusty compared to her old self- but it wouldn't be a problem. She had her axe, and she had a trustworthy ally in Xander.

"Got it! If it comes for me, make sure to follow up!"

[Selkie Rolls: 11. Hit!]

[1/3 hits landed.]

With the creature thoroughly distracted by the might of Nohr, Selkie had no trouble racing around behind it. With a mighty leap, she brought her axe down across it's back, eliciting a loud roar in response.

"Easy peasy! I wanted to play with him a little, but this guy is gonna be a snooze fest! Boooriiing!"

Even in a new land, she was still the same old Selkie, after all.

[gallantgautier]

Umbral Inquiry

((Starter for @vonvestra ))

Sylvain,

Word has just reached me regarding Captain Devere. While this is regrettable, a replacement will have been selected by the time this letter reaches you. I have also been informed that you were not selected for the mission to Sreng, highly irregular, but I have full confidence that you will perform your duties as is expected of my heir.

Sylvain scoffs, he knows exactly what he means by that and decides now is definitely not the time to dwell on it.

Considering the circumstances, it would behove you to ascertain what happened to the Captain at your earliest convenience – another scoff, this time with a muttering of “right, you mean now, old man,” – and report back to me.

I trust I will not be disappointed,

Margrave Gullan Adán Gautier

The parchment crunches in a fist, Sylvain should know by know not to expect anything like well wishes or even something as human as worry from his father, but having it spelled out in stark black ink is still more of a blow than he’d care to admit to. Sighing, he pockets the letter, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

Captain Devere – the envoy from Sreng – had been found dead just a few days ago, and as far as he’s aware, the monastery faculty had been tight lipped as to why, citing only that dark magic had been the cause, and that they were investigating. Not fast enough to meet his father’s standards, clearly. Or, perhaps the Margrave is concerned he won’t get the full story, the fact that his trust in the church only runs so far has never been a secret.

And so, once again, another expectation that he gets no say in falls to him. That’s just terrific.

Still, expectation or no, he’d be lying to himself if he said it hadn’t been on his mind – not that anyone needs to know that. He can turn this around, he thinks as he wanders down a corridor, use it as a convenient excuse to dig deeper. For that to happen though, he’s going to need to arm himself with knowledge, which means yet another trip to the library and spending more hours hunched over dusty old tomes.

Or, he realises too late as he passes Hubert with little more than a nod of recognition, he could just enlist some help. Screeching to a halt, he turns on his heel, an arm flying out to keep his balance with how quickly he moves and a hand running through his hair to make it look nonchalant and effortless.

“Hey! Hubert!” he calls, “You free? Got a favour to ask. My old man is getting impatient regarding that messy business with the envoy. Don’t suppose you could lend me a hand in getting him off my back, could you?”

[flowerofiris]

We'll See Her Again Soon (Hubert & Nino)

@vonvestra

Mist was out on another errand entirely, meaning that Nino was all on her own for sword practice. She was starting to get the hang of this whole thing; she did have the prior experience from watching her family and other sword-wielders in the monastery, after all. She had moved on from swinging her sword to improve her technique to attacking a training dummy. It wasn't as big of a change as she imagined, but it was nice to see how strong her sword arm had gotten.

She swiped at the dummy's chest a few times, dancing around it swiftly as if the dummy would spring to life and attack her any second now. Before long, she hurried to the back of the dummy and stabbed it as hard as she could! She managed to run the sword all the way through it, too! "Yes!" She cheered in triumph. And then she pulled her sword out- er... She tried to pull the sword out, but it was proving more difficult than she imagined. She tried tugging with both arms, but the sword really got stuck in there...

Unbeknownst to Nino were two previously-bored Almyran soldiers watching her, snickering to themselves as she desperately tried to get her sword out. They decided to approach her, a gesture which Nino noticed due to their footsteps. She hurried her motions to try and get the sword unstuck, to no avail.

'Hey, relax, kid.' 'What's the hurry?' Nino whimpered slightly in response. "You... You both are here to make fun of me, aren't you? You've all been heckling us from the start... can't we just get along?" The two soldiers laugh. 'You know what? The kid's got a point... why don't we just get along?' Nino could sense the sarcasm. 'Easy. Because she's inexperienced compared to us. Weak.' Nino lets go of the sword, huffing. "I'm not weak!" She protests.

'Oh?' One of the soldiers raises an eyebrow. 'Then how about a little contest? You beat the both of us in a fight...' Nino winces. '...With swords. I'm sure you'll do fine, right? You'll get your sword stuck inside me, and I'm sure he'll fall over and die of laughter as you try to get it out of my ribs!' The two soldiers start losing it with laughter, making Nino start to step back. The soldiers started to close in on her. 'Whaddya say, kid?' 'Come on, you're not gonna chicken out, are ya?'

Nino trembled in fear. Why did they have to be so unnecessarily mean? If she accepted their challenge, she'd certainly get hurt... maybe too hurt to even help with the tiger monster. But they weren't going to take no for an answer... would they just beat her up anyway? Nino opened her mouth, sucking in air and trying to relay her answer, trying to hold back the tears forming in her eyes...

[toconquerfate]

to rise from seafoam

Xander had seen her die. They all had. They’d seen her fade into bubbles that floated away, just out of reach as Shigure and Corrin desperately grasped for them, as if catching them would let them stitch her whole again.

He had seen her die.

So when he got the letter that a dead woman had risen from the grave, descended from the clouds to wash up like seafoam on the shore of a distant ocean, his blood ran cold. The only time he’d seen the dead walk was in Valla, under the thrall of the monstrosity of a god they’d killed- what if this was the last act of a dying dragon, to make another echo of the dead, one last desperate claw into their world to one day bring it back to life? 

What if they were still in danger?

So, he finally allowed Camilla to coerce him into a break, sent in an application to teach at the school “Azura” had mentioned in her letter, packed his bags, and set off for a land he’d only ever read about, leaving Nohr in his siblings’s hands.

(siegbert and mozu were there too, as were shigure and little kana and so many children, how could he leave them in the hands of a woman comprised only of echoed songs and seafoam, who would dissolve into nothing once she completed her purpose? how could he abandon his family, the children he and the others had no choice but to abandon during the war?

he couldn’t, he wouldn’t. he would be there to keep them safe if it was the last thing he did.)

So, he grit his teeth when the school immediately sent him off to fight their battles, sent him where Kana and Shigure were (good, he could keep them safe), sent the echo elsewhere (he couldn’t watch her and siegbert was with her, siegbert was with her-). He could do nothing besides clench his jaw and pray. He had to be patient.

So, it surprised him to see her in the library at the same time as him as he read up on Almyra, though all the books the library contained on the nation seemed heavily biased against the nation for no apparent reason, which he found very distasteful- a place of learning should have at least both sides of the argument, if neutral readings did not yet exist. But that was besides the point.

The echo was in the room, looking at him with a strange mix of surprise and intrigue. He coughs awkwardly.

“Lady Azura, so you are alive, as your letter claimed,” he says simply, carefully examining her for any trace of that disgusting miasma that emanated from the dead, from those the monster-god pulled under his thrall. Gunther could hide it, and so could she, surely, but he would look and watch.

He would catch a misstep eventually.

“Has this land been treating you well?”

                                                                                                 @aqura

[vonvestra]

kitsuneiisms​:

Haze, thick and disorienting, like a dream - unable to move or respond, only to look, to hear, to feel.

“Begone, wretch!”

Xander - Selkie’s head turns towards the sound, still unable to stand on her broken limbs. A direct hit - just what they needed. But the victory is short lived - the short burst of energy she gets as she sees the stampede behind him is only enough for her to clear the fog, to attempt to sit up and watch as the crown prince of Nohr falls.

They can’t afford to lose anyone else - not here, not now. Shaky paws dig into the dirt, determination holding her up where bones cannot. The pain cracks, shoots up her forelegs with each movement - but she can’t stop, won’t stop.

“…Heal!”

No sooner does the kitsune find solid ground than her comrade’s words ring out - and her magic as well. Soothing comfort finds Selkie’s wounds to close, discomfort as the magic washes over leads to relief - she can stand, she can move, she can fight!

A growl, then - sights focus on its chest, on that crest stone of all things. Was that how it controlled the beasts around it? So it was her new target.

A howl, another leap -

[Selkie rolls: 9. Beast Caveat - Miss!]

But Gricenchos is faster. So close, mere inches between her and that stone, yet the beast’s paws - she hadn’t kept an eye, hadn’t watched her surroundings as focused as she was. One swipe sent her reeling back the way she came, tails barely brushing against the stone on the way out.

So close. A landing without pain - she caught herself this time, keeping her momentum going into a run. Circle around, strike again. Watch for the others, watch for the beast.

Until she skids to a stop upon turning around, confusion plain on her face.

Where…

“Where’d everyone go?!”

Fog had rolled in when the sky was clear just moments ago - this was the same haze from before. Words now, gripping, tearing, shredding into bark, the weight threatening to break her branch. The whispers are all around, shadows in every direction.

“Kana? N-nino?”

No answer. The shades glare and judge, but they do not speak.

“…Hey! Someone, answer me!”

At first, there is nothing - Selkie had never felt fear before, but if the fox had to define the word to a feeling, perhaps it was this. Panic sets in - was this Gricenchos’ influence? Could she break free?

Was she dead?

“…Selkie!”

“That voice… it can’t be-”

“Selkie!”

“Daddy! Daddy, where are you?”

Kaden’s voice was unmistakable - it took no time at all for her to follow the shades, the mist beckoning forth until she nearly barreled her father over. Excitement soon turned sour, and a whimper as she nudged close.

“Daddy… what happened to you?”

He was even more wounded than she’d been - how was she hurt again? No matter, none of it mattered -

“They’re after us, Selkie. I… I told you they wouldn’t understand us. I can’t fight - you have to protect me.”

“They? Who…”

That’s right. She’d transformed in front of her allies - how foolish could she be?! This was her fault, they’d gone after her daddy now, he was hurt because of her. Why did she transform in the first place?

A memory emerges; patrolling the woods, a father’s cry - death by silver, narrowly avoided by his shield.

Fear - that’s right, that was the first time she ever felt fear. Her daddy saved her that time, all those years ago…

“Daddy… how are you here?”

[Selkie rolls: 1. Failure to resist.]

Kaden frowns, and opens his mouth to speak -

“No… never mind. It’s not important.”

Whipping around, the kitsune gets into a defensive stance, growling heavily. The shades turn, eyes focused on her once more - it was a ploy! A trick, get the two together and end them in one fell swoop.

“It’s my fault you’re in this mess, Daddy - I’ll make it up to you! I’ll protect you!”

One in particular stands out - standing in the back, a mage, most likely. Her eyes hone in -

“I won’t let you hurt my Daddy!”

[Selkie has set her sights on Soren!]

@vonvestra​

At last Mist and Nino had arrived, but it seemed that for every person they revived, another fell in their place. As wounded as the beast was, and as wide as the pool of green grew under its broken claws, it would not back down. A creature without an instinct to preserve its own life. Truly a killing machine.

The glimpse of the stone in its chest had told Hubert as much. The tiger - though by no means did it ever appear to be an ordinary beast - looked instead to be a manufactured one. His hunch had been correct.

But the screams of the battlefield rent his thoughts before they could drift too far toward what Edelgard faced in Sreng. The trees and underbrush offered little cover in the grand expanse of plainsland, but Hubert took quickly to the shade of one to recalculate his plans.

Were they risking their lives for a test? A mere plaything? Or was this a portent of disaster?

His eyes cut quickly to the left as that strange fox from before streaked past him toward the beast. But then it spun around with a snarl and a wild look in its eyes. While it may have been an ally before, it certainly wasn’t one now, and Gricenchos lifted its blood-streaked head as if in triumph of its own makeshift army.

A roar shook the heavens, scaring dark clouds of birds into the sky and scattering the pegasi that still circled above it. Even at a distance, Hubert flinched at the deafening sound, but he saw his chance. The beast had stretched so that the stone in its chest was visible between its outstretched forearms. Purple energy gathered around his hand again as he broke from his cover and crossed a flatland of corpses. A miasma spell would be fast enough, a quick strike at the weak point of that shield and—

Hubert’s attack: 4 - Miss

Gricenchos’ attack: 3 - Miss

Hubert dove to the ground, the orb of viscous poison not quite gathering the momentum it needed before it splattered ineffectually across the earth. At the same time, a hand axe planted firmly where he had been standing just moments ago. Followed by the wyvern and its rider sliding grooves into the ground some feet away. Too close.

“Sety!” He spied the mage nearby and quickly picked himself back up. “Quickly, while it’s still distracted!”

Hubert casts Rally Blessing/Dexterity on Sety

Next: @vedrskati

`` eye of the tiger » gricenchos boss fight

[timescursedmark]

Eve of a Nightmare

When Inigo showed up, he found Owain trembling, clutching the necklace that Severa had given him in his hands. When Owain saw him, he stood up and pocketed that necklace, and he forced a smile that was so obviously conflicted  that it frankly only made things sadder. “Haha, well, you can… count on a hero like me to…” His lips trembled for a moment. “To thrive in the face of great peril…!” He paused and took in a shaky breath. “Would I really let a… a horrible monster get me? Or– or two?”

Owain clutched his hands together nervously as his voice faltered, wringing his hands tightly. “Inigo…” he unclasped his hands, but he grew visibly more and more agitated by the second, beginning to pace tightly around in the same spot as his emotions bled through more and more. “I-I.. I just…”

Something snapped in Owain, and he lunged forward and grabbed Inigo by the shirt, fists bunching up into fabric.

Suddenly, Owain was right up in front of Inigo, his entire body trembling hard enough that Inigo could even feel it through his shirt, breath shaky and thick, eyes watering. “Inigo, I’m...” he choked, “I’m going to die.” He sucked in a breath, and looked up directly at Inigo. “I... I don’t know how else this can go, Inigo. With it... I just-- I just--” He shook his head, now and his eyes began to water, and his grip on Inigo’s shirt tightened.

“I don’t know how I can do this without all of you, Inigo. I don’t know. I don’t know.” He opened his mouth, and for a moment he just shook his head, bewilderment and fear closing his throat for a moment, until he found his breath again. “I... how can it be back? Why is it back? And why me? Why just me? Why just ME, Inigo? Maybe... maybe if we were all together, it could... it could work out, kind of, but...”

Abruptly, his stance gripping Inigo collapsed, and he ended up embracing the other man tightly, a sob sounding out as, for once, he was the one of the two crying. “I-- I can see why, I think, actually! It’s... it’s some terrible twist of destiny. Maybe we weren’t supposed to make it out easy. Or maybe I wasn’t. Lucina would... Lucina would always talk about fate, and...” he sobbed once more, “maybe it can’t be changed that easily. Maybe it follows us. Me! Gods... I always thought those days would come back to haunt me, I just never thought it would be so literal!”

[dragon-kiddos]

💦

Danger Lurking Around Every Turn (Team Gricenchos Ask Meme) || 💦 Hostage [1 hit required]

Kana sees the Zagrosi before he sees the hostage. It’s only by Mist’s gentle tug on his hand to hold him back that keeps him from exposing their position and running full-blast at the enemy; a point of her finger and Kana follows its trajectory to the poor young woman being shoved along by the Zagrosi, tears streaming down her cheeks as she tries to ignore the blade resting dangerously close to her neck.

Teeth grit in anger and disgust—how could someone bear to threaten an innocent like this?—and with one sidelong glance at Mist to whisper “cover me,” he prepares to make his move. Stalking through the greenery alongside the enemy and their hostage, he waits until the perfect moment to strike—there! The idiot Zagrosi lets their guard down as they stifle a yawn, and in one swift movement, Kana leaps from the bushes. 

[ Kana rolls: 14. Hit! ] 

One quick jab to tribe member’s wrist causes them to drop their blade in a flurried scramble. As they turn to face their attacker, they, for a moment, are stupefied—who in the world is this little brat?!—which presents the perfect opportunity for Kana to kick out and swipe their legs out from beneath them, throwing them to the ground. One more swift hit to their head with the pommel of his blade renders them unconscious; another win for Kana! 

Exhaling, little dragon sheathes his blade and holds out his hands to the petrified woman who only moments ago was praying for her life. “It’s alright, miss,” comes his soft comfort, “you’re okay, now. Let’s get you back to safety, alright?”

[taciturnwindwielder-blog]

More Than A Message

Dear Ike,

By now you have most likely heard talk of “demonic beasts” prowling the four corners of Fodlan. Well, Garreg Mach Monastery has taken it upon itself to eradicate the threats. We’ve been split into four groups, each assigned to a different location. I have been assigned to Almyra to vanquish Grichenchos, the Tiger of the East. However, my teammates are all students. This makes me responsible for them, but I do not feel as though I am ready for that responsibility. I hardly command the same respect that you do, and I was never prepared for a leadership position the way you were. I suppose the best way to learn is through experience, but what if I fail? What if they don’t listen to me? What was it you said? “Treat others in good faith, and they will follow of their own volition”? Can it really be that simple? And can what you’ve taught me of kindness be enough to win them over? Or worse yet, what if the students do follow me, and I still fail in my task? What if the students die fighting? I will bear the blame if that happens, and I don’t know if I could handle that. I’ve never dealt directly with casualties before, but I’ve always been fighting against people. I do not know to predict the movements and behaviors of actual, literal monsters. Perhaps they will behave more similarly to animals or feral laguz--although, if the reports are true, they are much larger than any laguz we have encountered.

I’m sorry for saying so much about myself, but in truth, I feel some of my fears being quelled just by writing them down. Maybe seeing all my thoughts in one place helps me work through them, or maybe it’s the fact that I’m sharing them with you that helps. I remember when you first took command and started telling me about your fears and insecurities. I could not understand why you would make yourself vulnerable to me like that. At the time, I thought it was a way for you to feel powerful even in your moments of weakness--that by expressing your insecurities to someone smaller and weaker than you, who you considered no threat to you, you were saying that you were strong enough that it didn’t matter to you if I knew. I’m sorry if that makes little or no sense; it’s hard to explain in words. But at the time, that is what I thought, because I had little concept of trust in my mind. I didn’t even really trust you. I knew that in the past, you had helped me, but that didn’t mean you wouldn’t turn on me when it suited you. Things have changed so much since then.

Sorry again; I just can’t help it. I hold so much in when I speak, but when I write, it all just comes it out somehow. As for my teammates, you remember when I told you about Hubert, and of course you know Mist, even if she isn’t the same one who you left behind. There is also Shigure, a delicate young man skilled with the lance; Sylvain, a notorious skirt-chaser but a decent cavalier; Robin, apparently a tactician… we’ll see about that; Selkie, a playful young beast (I hope there won’t be any trouble between us; I doubt she’s perceptive enough to notice, if you take my meaning); Owain, a loud and dramatic but competent swordsman; Kana, a cheerful young boy who appears to be a dragon (I’m a bit more worried about him than Selkie); and Nino, a bright, budding mage. They’re an interesting lot from several different continents, from what I can gather. Some of them know each other, which will make strategizing easier.

Having filled up both sides of the page, Soren set the sheet of paper aside and reached for a blank one to find that he was out. He jumped up and quickly made his way to the library to get more, closing and locking the door to his room on the way out. What he failed to notice, however, was the letter getting swept up in the wind of his swift movement and blowing out into the hallway, quietly settling on the floor just before he shut the door.

So on his way back, he was not at first alarmed to run into Nino holding a sheet of paper. However, having written on both sides of the paper, he recognized his own words on the side that was facing him.

Shocked and horrified, he nearly dropped the ream of paper he held, ready to snatch it from her hands, before stopping himself, afraid of smearing the ink or tearing the page. Instead he cried, “Ah--that--don’t read that!”

@flowerofiris

[vonvestra]

Henry ran up to Hubert like a bunny running towards its hole. “Hey Hubert!” he said inbetween breaths. “I heard you were going to Almyra! I hope you don’t get cursed or something! That’d be so sad. I guess. I hope you can fill in the right emotion. How you doing?” Henry said as he wobbled in place.

Hubert turned at the sound of rapid footsteps, one hand rushing instinctively to the knife hidden away in his belt. It was not his usual reaction to being approached around the monastery, but the circumstances - in particular, the looming separation from Edelgard for a month, and the rumors of dark magic - had his nerves pulled so tightly that he reached for the hilt almost as a comfort. But it was only Henry, and Hubert surreptitiously slipped the tension out in a quiet sigh.

“Almyra is not known for its magic. I would go so far as to say that the likelihood of falling under some curse is greater here than across the border.” He shook his head with exasperation, not toward Henry or his well-wishing, but for yet another frustrating reminder of his assignment.

“Preparations are slow, but they are coming along. You are going to Brigid, are you not?” he asked. “You should know that there is tension between Brigid and the Empire. Its princess is something of a hostage, although the Imperial nobility will not admit it so plainly. As you bear the emblem of the Black Eagles house, you will be assumed an ally of the Empire. Be mindful of how you present yourself, Henry.” Leveling his gaze, trying to bore through Henry’s mask of a smile, Hubert spoke with even greater seriousness. “Do not do anything that will bring you under scrutiny.”