#i did draw the dragons a little and of course they are wyverns. the best type of dragon | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

theharellan · 4 years ago

Text

Solas Fan Banter

Here’s a compilation of the fan banter I’ve written over the years between Solas and other canon Dragon Age characters, posted for Dragon Age Day 2020. There are references to a canon divergent Solas/nb!Lavellan companion romance. I’ve regretfully not written any Iron Bull banter that I’m proud enough of to feature here, but if anyone has any suggestions for topics I’d be glad to hear them.

Featured characters: Solas, Cassandra, Varric, Sera, Blackwall, Vivienne, Dorian, Cole, Morrigan, Cullen, Leliana, Valta, Renn, and Arcane Advisor Merrill!

Solas & Cassandra

(after receiving the quest Agrarian Apostate)

Cassandra: And he was not even a mage. Shameful. Solas: Would have it been justified if he was? Cassandra: The Templars have sanction to punish apostates. It would not have been beyond their authority. Solas: I would not call that justified, merely legal. Cassandra: The Templars should be better. Solas: The Chantry armed them and gave them an enemy. That might fuel an army, but will only serve to poison their minds against innocent people, apostates or no.

Solas & Varric

(after killing the Templars during the quest Agrarian Apostate)

Varric: I thought at least away from Kirkwall I could get away from crazy Templars. Solas: You believe they were mad? The men I saw were no different from those who confronted us in Val Royeaux.

(after delivering the ring)

Solas: She seems to be holding up well, considering. Varric: Yeah, but I know a front when I see one. Solas: You believe she was suffering more than she let on? Varric: Oh, I know it, Chuckles. That ring might comfort her when the country gets too quiet, but it won’t dry her tears or– shit, do much else, really. Solas: Some wounds only time heal. Varric: And they always seem to leave ugly scars.

(after beginning Here Lies the Abyss)

Solas: You found Hawke after all. Varric: Oh, you know. All those heroics jogged my memory. Solas: Naturally. Varric: What, you going to lay into me, too? Solas: No, no. I understand why you hesitated. (if Hawke is a mage) Solas: To involve her in a Chantry organisation would not have been wise, at least before it had a chance to prove itself. (otherwise) Solas: Given her involvement in this war, I can only imagine there are those on both sides who would blame her for their present predicament. Varric: You mind telling all that to Cassandra? Solas: I would prefer not to.

(after Here Lies the Abyss, if Hawke is left behind)

Solas: I have read your book, you know. The Tale of the Champion. Varric: I don’t know if now’s the best time. Solas: I understand. I only wanted to say that in reading it, I felt your affection for Hawke in every word. I am... sorry, for what happened. Varric: Thanks, Chuckles. Solas: Of course.

(after Here Lies the Abyss, if Hawke survives)

Solas: You said your farewells to Hawke? Varric: Sure did. Sent letters home, debated sending letters to Weisshaupt. The Wardens will need to know the storm coming their way. Solas: You believe Hawke will pose a problem? Varric: Well, maybe not on purpose.

(in the Hissing Wastes, while exploring dwarven ruins)

Varric: I’m surprised you’re not hounding me about how all this makes me feel, Chuckles. Solas: I had thought we established your disinterest. Varric: Yeah, well. I’m thinking about it, anyway. Solas: If you insist. How does this make you feel, Varric? Varric: There’s a tiny part of me that’s really satisfied, you know? Seeing a Paragon of all people living on the Surface, then the rest of me just doesn’t give a shit. Solas: Tradition is a difficult thing to shake, to be conflicted is expected. Do you think our discovery here ought to be shared with Orzammar? Varric: I don’t know about Orzammar, but I can think of a few Surface dwarves who’d be interested in this.

Solas & Sera

Solas: I could not help but notice what you were drawing at breakfast. Sera: What? I wasn’t drawing anything.

(if Sera is romanced)

Solas: You captured our Inquisitor’s likeness well. Sera: Better than you could.

(otherwise)

Solas: There was no mistaking Dagna’s likeness. What were you carrying? Sera: A bowblade. It’s not a thing yet, but if anyone can make one, Widdle can.

Solas: Have you ever given thought to collaborating together on a piece? Sera: Collaber-what? Piece of what? Solas: A painting, or a drawing if you prefer, what medium you decide upon makes little difference to me. Sera: You really think the two of us could work together on anything? Solas: I was under the impression we had been. Sera: That’s different. The Inquisition’s not an ‘us’ thing, or it is, but not us us.

Sera: Say if I wanted to make something with you, what’d we even make? Solas: You ask the question as if there are limitations. Sera: A dragon, then! No, wait, a butt! (beat) Sera: Nothing? Not even a nose wrinkle? Solas: I am not unopposed to the idea. Sera: Ugh, how can you even make butts boring?

Sera: (handing him a drawing) Here, made you something. Solas: What is this? Are those—shoes? Sera: That’s right. One for each toe. You’re welcome.

(After Solas initiates a relationship with Ian)

Sera: So, you and Freckles, huh? Interesting. Solas: Your interest is not my concern. Sera: I always figured you’d wind with someone who’d make the bumping bits matter. Y’know, drop ‘em and rebuild the empire. Solas: It is not the physical product of our love that matters so much as how he makes me feel when I’m with him. Sera: Eugh.

(If Ian is in the party)

Ian: (laughingly) Vhenan, I would choose your words more carefully next time. Solas: Oh. (slightly embarrassed) I did not mean it like that. Sera: Ha! I’ve made him blush. Solas: This is why I didn’t wish to discuss it.

Solas & Blackwall

(While near Ferb’s old fishing pier in the Exalted Plains)

Blackwall: Wonder if the fishing’s good. If we had an hour or two… Solas: Do you consider yourself an angler, Blackwall? Blackwall: I wouldn’t go that far, but I do enjoy the sport of it. Solas: I’ve never considered it a sport. Blackwall: Probably because you’ve never gone fishing just for the fun of it. Next time we make camp, I’ll show you.

Inquisitor: So, how’d your fishing expedition go? Blackwall: You should’ve seen the size of the gar I wrangled. Solas: It was not half as impressive as he believes. Blackwall: He only says that because all’s he caught were minnows. Solas: (scoffs) Inquisitor: So... where is it? Blackwall: We threw it back, of course. Wasn’t like we were going to eat it. Solas: A convenient excuse.

(Along the Storm Coast)

Blackwall: Ever heard of the pale ship that appears on the mists? The Windy Marcher – I think that’s what they called it. Solas: I cannot say I have. Blackwall: An old story, no idea where it started. Must’ve heard it a dozen times in the Free Marches, always a different ending. Solas: As is often the case with legends, the content and moral changes with the teller. Blackwall: One man claimed he’d seen it himself, said the ship was captained by beautiful spirits who’d called him to the sea. Solas: A case of wishful thinking, I assume. Blackwall: He was a bit of a lonely bastard.

(After Revelations)

Solas: You and Cole seem more friendly, of late. Thom: He took some getting used to, but his heart’s in the right place. There’s enough darkness in the world without pushing away the good. Solas: I imagine it was chilling, knowing he could break your cover on a whim. Thom: That did keep me up some nights, yes. Sometimes I wonder why he didn’t say anything. Solas: Perhaps he saw in you what the Inquisitor sees. Thom: Well, I’m grateful. On both counts.

Solas & Vivienne

(After the events of Bring Me the Heart of Snow White)

Solas: I heard the news of Duke De Ghislain’s death. As I understand it, the two of you were close. My condolences for your loss. (if the Inquisitor gave Vivienne a regular wyvern’s heart) Vivienne: (coldly) There was a chance at saving him, but he is beyond saving, now. At least, by mortal hands. Solas: Then I am all the sorrier. (otherwise) Vivienne: He was at peace, and we had the chance to meet at least one last chance before he passed. Solas: Be thankful for that closure, it will bring you comfort in the days to come. Vivienne: It already has.

Solas: How do you feel about the moniker ‘Madame de Fer?’ Vivienne: Oh, I think it’s darling. Why do you ask? Solas: Iron is cold, unyielding without the proper tools, some may use it as an insult rather than a mark of respect. Vivienne: Of that I’ve no doubt, but let them. I embraced it wholeheartedly, and from then on no one could ever truly use it against me. Solas: True enough, such a tactic has worked for others before.

Vivienne: You will be wearing shoes to the ball, won’t you? Solas: My comfort is not worth jeopardizing the Inquisition’s image, so yes. Vivienne: Many elven servants in Orlais go barefoot, it would hardly be a scandal. Still, it would be beneficial. We must all present as a unit when the time comes, not a single hair out of place. Solas: That will hardly pose a problem for the two of us. Vivienne: (makes a sound almost like a laugh) Right you are.

Solas: There are rumours that your name be put forward as the next Divine. Vivienne: I wonder who might have started those. Solas: After all that has happened these past few months, you believe it possible they will accept a mage into their fold? (if the Inquisitor completed In Hushed Whispers / is a mage) Vivienne: Whyever not? Magic is what solved the problem, after all. Solas: Magic has solved countless problems over the centuries, and yet it is still reviled. Vivienne: I am not any ordinary mage. If any mage can achieve status of Divine, I am she. Solas: On that, we agree. (if the Inquisitor completed Champions of the Just and is a non-mage) Vivienne: With the Inquisitor’s support there is nothing I cannot accomplish, my dear.

Vivienne: The Inquisitor gave you that hood not half a day ago and it already has a hole in it. Solas: Two, in fact. Vivienne: Are you afraid we’ll forget you’re an elf if we go five minutes without seeing your ears? Solas: My estimation of your abilities is not that low, Enchanter, and I would be careful were I you. Two holes cut in a hood is not nearly as desperate as donning a pair of horns every morning.

(After Ian is made Tranquil during his personal quest)

Vivienne: I hope you know what you are doing, my dear. The Rite of Tranquility is not something easily undone. Solas: As I understand it, the Seekers did it quite regularly. Vivienne: And through a far gentler process. What they did to Ian was barbaric, but undoing it is not necessarily a kindness. One might even call it selfish. Solas: I never made any claim to selflessness. Vivienne: Go through with it, and he will relive what happened to him every morning and night for the rest of his life. Solas: (with restrained anger) Do not pretend as though you suddenly care for his well-being now, you showed little regard for him before. Vivienne: It is a warning, nothing more. Solas: Your warning is heeded, but it changes nothing. I am under no illusion this will be simple, but to give up on him now— I would be no better than the Circle that once wanted this same fate for him.

Solas & Dorian

Dorian: That book you have on your desk, Solas… Solas: There are many. Which are you referring to? Dorian: There’s one that looked to be in Ancient Tevene. Do you speak it, or are you just keeping it around to look clever? Solas: I would not go so far as to say I speak it, but I understand it well enough. Dorian: How did you go about learning it? Solas: Memories of Tevinter’s empire litter the land, there is hardly a place in Thedas where the world does not remember it, and with memories come language. Dorian: So you learned through the Fade? Solas: I did, though my pronunciation leaves something to be desired. An unfortunate consequence of learning any language alone. Dorian: I might be able to help, but only if you give me the satisfaction of hearing you muddle through it out loud beforehand. Also, I’ll be next in line when you’ve finished reading that book of yours. Solas: (snorts) Very well.

Solas & Cole

Cole: So they’re nobody, but somebody. Empty shells, filled with someone else’s memory. Solas: For the most part, it seems. Cole: If they’re heartless, why are they so angry? Solas: Perhaps it was not so much the absence of feeling, but the lack of recognition of said feelings. Cole: Belief makes them real, even if they’ll always be different.

Cole: It remembered. Delight in discovery, always pushing further into the unknown— someone like that does not simply disappear, and yet... it cannot remember his name. Solas: Names are not so as important as the spirit of the person they belong to. Cole: It remembered the person. Sadder, but stronger. If I ever return to the Fade, I would like to meet it. Solas: Nothing would delight it more. Cole: Oh, I know. I think we’d be friends.

(After the banter where Solas helps prevent a panic attack)

Cole: You breathe in— one, two, three, four— then out— one, two, three, four— feel the grass beneath your feet, magic between your fingers, remember what is and what was. How long did it take you to learn? Solas: More time than is ideal. Cole: I’m sorry. Solas: There is some comfort in knowing I’ve learned enough to help others with such struggles. Cole: I’ll count with you, if you need. Solas: Thank you, Cole.

Solas: I’m curious how your efforts are coming along since we last spoke. Cole: Josephine misses how saffron tastes, but she hasn’t asked the chef to purchase any. I wrote it on a list when no one was watching. Cullen doesn’t like my letters. He says they don’t make sense. Solas: I cannot imagine he devoted much time to understanding them. Cole: No. Listening is... difficult, when you’ve been taught not to.

Cole: Eyes fall shut, but they do not drift away. Their feet are tethered, tied to the ground. Solas: Even dwarves who lived and died on the Surface never dreamed. Cole: But they are still remembered. The song drowns out their thoughts, but it does not smother them. If I listen, I can hear. Solas: I have seen fewer glimpses of dwarven history than I would like, but there are always memories preserved by particular attentive spirits.

(When passing through the kitchen, or lingering nearby. Solas stands over the stove and Cole sits on a nearby counter, hitting his leg against the wood.)

Solas: Would you like to try it, Cole? Cole: Would it not be a waste? I don’t need to eat. Solas: To overindulge, perhaps. A taste will do you nor the world any harm, a good meal is about more than survival. Cole: Then I’d like to try it, please.

Cole: You don’t have to eat, Solas. Solas: Strictly speaking, no. Cole: Sometimes you do anyway. Solas: When the urge takes me, or if refusing would be seen as ill-mannered.

Solas: If I could ask for your opinion, Cole. Cole: It remembers the garden. The sun bakes it red, colour working through it like a blush upon a maiden’s cheeks. Solas: Excellent. And this? Cole: It was lost in weeds for weeks, neglected and forgotten. It tastes like oversteeped tea. Solas: I see. Then we will find another.

Cole: And it remembers the ocean? Solas: It knows the mountain streams and rocky coasts as well as any well-seasoned traveller, though the paths it takes are laid with smoother stones. Cole: Rough edges wicked away by river waters. Soft enough to stand on without any shoes. Solas: Though one must still take care not to fall. (optional) Inquisitor: Speaking from personal experience, Solas? Solas: I suppose one might say that. Cole: Feet forget the ground, flying out from beneath him, but the rest of him doesn’t follow. Solas: (tinged with embarrassment) As I said. Inquisitor: (chuckles) (otherwise) Cole: But you always get up again.

Solas & Cullen

Cullen: I’m curious how you’ve avoided Templars all these years. Solas: I would prefer not to say. Cullen: I’m no longer a Templar, you know. Solas: Then why do you still wear their heraldry? Or am I mistaken? Cullen: I… Solas: Templar or no, your support for its cause endures. I would not endanger fellow apostates by revealing our methods.

Solas: Master Tethras tells me you served in Kirkwall. Cullen: Varric has no shortage of stories, that one just so happens to be true. Why do you bring it up? Solas: My travels have taken me there, on occasion. Cullen: I admit, I’m curious what your impression was. Solas: All the world is steeped in tragedy, but in Kirkwall the Fade overflows with it. Spells flow from the fingertips with such ease you may forget the Veil altogether. Cullen: That doesn’t surprise me, the amount of abominations I saw during my years there… Solas: They were but a symptom. Kirkwall’s sickness ran deeper than what any one spirit could cure.

Solas & Leliana

Solas: I have heard the Inquisition call you many titles. Sister, Nightingale, Spymaster. Leliana: I have worn many masks, some I’ve liked more than others. Why do you mention it? Solas: Which do I refer to you by? Leliana: (laughs) Whichever you prefer. You may use Leliana, if you wish. Solas: Then I shall see which suits you best.

Solas & Josephine

Josephine: It took several tries, but we managed to remove the wine stain from your sweater. I apologise again for Lady Vérène’s indiscretion. Solas: The fault is hardly yours. It is a pity she is not more open to an apostate’s perspective, but the loss is hers. Extend my sincere gratitude to whoever expunged the mark. I have only a few shirts to my name. Josephine: You know, Solas, now that the Inquisition finds itself in more favourable circumstances, we can afford to purchase you a new wardrobe. Solas: With respect, Ambassador, I value comfort over style. I’m uncertain the Summer Bazaar will be able to accommodate me. Josephine: It would be a most... unusual request, but I believe I know the tailor for the job.

Josephine: Have you found the library to your liking? Solas: I have. I cannot imagine any other circumstance where someone like me could have such unmitigated access to the written word. Most human libraries are not so liberal with their guests. Josephine: I confess, I have never been without books. Ever since I was a child they were always within reach. Solas: Then you must have recommendations. Josephine: One or two come to mind. If I can secure faithful translations, you will have them.

Solas & Morrigan

Solas: You seem well-versed in courtly manners for a woman raised in the wilderness. Morrigan: What are you implying? Solas: That you have a talent for winding nobles around your finger, or that the infamous ‘game’ is not so deadly as they like to believe. Vivienne: Or that more talented souls paved the wave for her. Solas: Another possibility. Morrigan: ‘Tis true that Orlesians overestimate the challenge of this ‘Game’ of theirs. Empress Celene had her desires, and ‘twas a simple matter to keep her satisfied. Vivienne: Which is why you’re with us. Morrigan: With you at my side, I could not help but notice. Vivienne: Believe me, dear. Court enchanter is a trifle compared to where my sights have set.

Solas: I found your son atop the rotunda’s scaffolding today. Morrigan: He has long been fond of climbing, and Skyhold’s trees are too new to bear his weight. Solas: It was no harm. My only regret is I did not have an answer to every question he asked. He is a curious boy. Morrigan: (laughs) That he is.

(During What Pride Had Wrought, upon finding the mosaic of June)

Morrigan: Ah, clever June. The most elusive of the elven gods, insofar as legends are concerned. Solas: Their silence is deafening. Morrigan: I take it you have insight? Solas: Merely that he does not deserve what little credit he is given. Time has forgotten the name of whosoever built the first aravel.

Solas: Rumour spread that Kieran went missing. I trust your presence here means you have found him? Morrigan: I… yes. Solas: He is unharmed? Morrigan: Yes. Solas: Then I am glad. And… you? Morrigan: I have much to think upon, but my son is safe. Everything else can come after.

Solas & Renn

Solas: Tell me, Lieutenant, why did you remain with the Legion? Renn: Having trouble seeing why it’s your business. Why d’you ask? Solas: Escaping would be a simple matter of finding the right battle to slip away from. Freedom would only be a few day’s journey from where we stand. Renn: I couldn’t abandon my men... or my city. Solas: You show great loyalty to Orzammar, considering you will never see it again. Renn: Yeah, well. You never forget your home. Solas: No. I suppose you don’t.

Solas & Valta

Solas: “But the truth is the truth— no matter how political it may be.” Valta: Do you disagree? Solas: Just the opposite. The truth does not change with our ability to stomach it. I am glad a historian such as yourself agrees. Valta: A shame the rest of the Shaperate doesn’t agree with us. Solas: True, but if they had you would not be here, on the brink of uncovering secrets buried centuries ago. In their attempt to keep you out of the way, they unknowingly set you upon the path to even greater knowledge. Valta: Orzammar will know the truth. If I don’t make it, then the Inquisitor— Solas: You are not yet dead, Shaper Valta. Do not count yourself apart from the living so soon.

Solas & Merrill

Merrill: You snort when you laugh. Solas: I’m well-aware. If you are about to ask me to stop, I’m afraid I’ve tried before. Merrill: Oh, it’s not a bad thing. It might be the most charming thing about you. Solas: Damned by faint praise. Merrill: It is a very charming laugh.

Solas: Why did you leave your clan? I read Varric’s Tale of the Champion, but I suspect most of it was a lie. (if present) Varric: Hey! I’m right here. Solas: You did well to lie. To name her as a Dalish mage would be to paint a target upon her back. (otherwise) Merill: I left… I— it wasn’t exactly my choice. There was a mirror, tainted by the Blight. I thought we should fix it, even if it meant turning to blood magic. My Keeper disagreed. Solas: You cleansed the Blight from an eluvian? That is remarkable. Merrill: I used to wonder if it was worth it. I sacrificed so much to get it working, years of my life, my— I’m just glad we’re getting use out of it, now.

Merrill: You’re wrong about my people, Solas. The Dalish aren’t as lost as you think. Solas: They cast you to the streets of Kirkwall, exiled you for the crime of pursuing the duty they tasked you with. Merrill: Some of them said such awful things, they looked at me like I was already a demon, but… that doesn’t mean there isn’t good, too. Sometimes I wonder, had my Keeper not been so against me, if things might have been different. Merrill: I don’t know what they said to you, but I know what their scorn feels like. It hurts, but… there’s so much to admire. Solas: You still feel for them. Merrill: They’re my people, they always will be. No matter how much they might hate me, I’ll always love them. Solas: Put like that, I suppose I understand the sentiment. Merrill: It’s a lonely feeling, isn’t it? Solas: It never ebbs, no. Merrill: Then just— remember them, when you think unkind thoughts about the Dalish. The people you miss, the people you don’t, and what you’d sacrifice for them both.

(in the Exalted Plains, outside the boundaries of Hawen’s camp)

Merrill: (giggles) Datishan was asking about you before we left. Solas: Datishan… Hawen’s little hunter? Merrill: Who else? She wanted to know when you’d be back. Solas: What did you tell her? Merrill: I told her you needed time, that good stories don’t grow on trees. You will go back, won’t you? Solas: It seems I shall have to, or else suffer the wrath of her arrows. Merrill: You joke, but she almost poked out my eye last night. Solas: (chuckles)

#dragonageday #solas #dragon age #dragon4geday #unofficialdragonageday #dragon age inquisition #fan banter #dare to be in the company of those stronger than you ( banter )#( my writing )#[ i'll be reposting the couple new things i wrote for this later ]#[ scheduled post ]

82 notes · View notes

chaosmax · 4 years ago

Text

Dragon’s Hoard

Summary: For a break, Diva approaches Seto for a casual duel, no fancy holograms this time. Unfortunately for him, Seto's bearded dragon wants all of Seto's attention for himself. Clearly, this should be considered unlawful interference. Still, neither of them is willing to just hand over a win.

Tags: Oneshot, Kaiba has a lizard and it doesn’t like Diva, mainly because Diva takes Seto’s attention, Dueling and bickering, Fluff, Cubeshipping

Word count: 964

Read on AO3 here, but the rest is also under the Read More.

There was an audible snap of a book closing to Kaiba’s left as he read over some reports on his laptop.

“Well? Did you like it?” he questioned.

But instead of responding, Diva simply took a moment to remain silent in the spot of sunlight he was lounging in on the couch in the office.

Kaiba returned his attention to the documents.

“It was an interesting tale. But I felt the explanations behind all the technology and science was a bit unnecessary.”

“Take that back, that’s one of the best things about it.”

With a roll of his eyes, Diva sets the book on the table and gets up to walk over to Seto’s desk. But before he could ask what the CEO was doing, his eyes caught something more dangerous.

Seto’s lizard, perched on its owner’s shoulder. Like a little watchdog.

Diva wasn’t going near that thing. Not after last time.

“I was going to ask you if you wanted to take a break and have a quick duel.”

A slow smirk spread across Seto’s face as he refocuses his attention on the ex-Plana.

“Something stopping you?” he asked with a raised brow.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the bearded dragon puffing up his throat.

Golden eyes fixed him with a stare before dragging a chair over to sit across the desk.

“No,” he said reaching into his coat and taking out his cards.

With a snort, Kaiba pushed his computer to the side and tapped a button on his Duel Disk that was laying on the edge of the desk. The lights flared to life and the digital deck appeared on the table a moment later, already shuffled.

“How random can the shuffling of a binary machine be, Seto Kaiba?”

Five blue holographic cards are taken off the top and Seto glances at them. Not a bad start.

“That machine is doing math that would take you and me hours. It is sufficiently random.”

Diva finishes shuffling his cards the old fashion way and sets them on the desk. Kaiba taps it without cutting it.

“Card type on the bottom of your deck?”

“Trap, Cubic Ascension.”

“Monster,” Kaiba grumbles.

Trap beats monster. Diva got to decide who goes first.

“Oh? Do tell?” Diva asks as he just sets a few cards for his first turn.

“Blue Eyes.”

“Really now? Maybe your machine is more fair than I thought.”

Kaiba draws and summons Assault Wyvern. “Won’t matter, it’ll be in my hand or on the field soon enough.”

The turns slowly pass, all while the lizard on Seto’s shoulder just stares at Diva like he has a vendetta. As if Diva was an intruding thief in the dragon’s hoard of gold.

But eventually, as time passes the turns slow to a crawl. The Cubic counters have done their work and locked Kaiba out of a lot of his options, nullifying his monster's effects and paralyzing them from attacking. As Diva examines his opponent’s field, it’s hard to see anything workable. But he didn’t know what Seto had in his hand. Or what Kaiba could search his deck for and retrieve something that could throw everything off—

There’s a sudden rough weight on his hand that was resting on the desk while he waited and observed. And looking over, it was just what Diva dreaded.

The little bearded dragon perched proudly on his hand, looking a bit too intently at his golden bracelet. At least, Diva hoped it was his bracelet and not one of his fingers.

“Your dragon lives up to his name, a greedy little thing. Seto, I swear—”

“What? I don’t see the problem. Let Fáfnir relax,” Kaiba says as he activates Bingo Machine, Go!!! and takes a leisurable moment to search through all of his digital cards even though he could have easily had his duel disk spit out the cards that fit the criteria of the spell’s effect.

“Sure, he certainly looks so relaxed while staring at my hand like it’s a tasty bug,” Diva says with a nod at the reptile.

“He has to learn to warm up to you eventually. And trying to feed him didn’t go over so well, but look—I think this is progress.”

“It’s progress until he decides he’s gotten bored. Middle one,” Diva says out of the three cards Seto picked. The CEO adds it to his hand and returns the other two to his deck.

“Now get him off me.” Diva doesn’t dare to move his hand, but despite that Fáfnir climbs around and clamps his jaws down on Diva’s thumb.

“Ow—Seto!”

Laughing at the other’s misery like a true villain, Seto puts his cards aside to ease the little dragon into releasing the vice grip on Diva. No real damage was done of course, but he figured that was enough havoc to cause for the day and carried the lizard back to his terrarium. Despite the ex-Plana’s suffering, this was quite a good bit of progress. For a bit the reptile did seem almost content.

“Don’t laugh, you did that on purpose because you’re losing, aren’t you?”

“Me, losing? I think you’re misreading the field, Diva.”

“If you’re determined to use underhanded tactics at least own up to it.”

Kaiba walks back around the desk and picks up two of his cards, revealing his turnabout strategy. A Blue-Eyes Alternative White Dragon and a regular Blue Eyes to special summon it with.

“You so sure I was losing? You’ve used all your Vijams already. Unless you have something to retrieve them from the graveyard all I have to do is use Alternative’s effect to clear that absurdly powered up Duza off your field.”

Diva smirks.

“Fine then. Let’s see if you can make a comeback.”

_____

Thanks for reading!

Notes: I just wanted some fluff. Fáfnir is the name of a dragon from the Icelandic Saga of the Volsungs. Also, bearded dragons are normally very friendly if you socialize and care for them properly. Fáfnir is just an attention hog.

One of the ways people can determine who goes first in a duel is to use the card on the bottom of the deck. Trap beats monster, monster beats spell, and spell beats trap. Whoever wins can either decide if they want to go first or perhaps whoever wins goes first. There are multiple variations. After your opponent shuffles their deck at the start you can cut it to ensure it's even more random and fair. Though in a non-competitive scenario, if you trust that the person isn't stacking their deck somehow and did a good job shuffling you can also just tap the cards and move onto the duel.

#yugioh #yugioh fanfiction #seto kaiba #diva dsod #cubeshipping #diva aigami #reblogs appreciated!#my writing #my posts #aigami

25 notes · View notes

zaph1337 · 3 years ago

Text

Monster Hunter Rating 34: Pink Rathian, the Cherry Blossom Fire Wyvern

TEN THOUSAND YEARS WILL GIVE YOU--wait, the last review was literally this month, my bad. Well, now that I have some free time, it’s time to get back to rating monsters on an arbitrary and--as seen in the last review--incredibly subjective scale! Speaking of last review, it was pretty obvious that creating a Rathalos subspecies would also require a Rathian subspecies to go along with it. Let’s see how the Pink Rathian mixes things up!

(How it appears in Monster Hunter Freedom 1)

(How it appears in Monster Hunter Tri Ultimate)

(How it appears in Monster Hunter World)

Appearance: Honestly, I’m glad that this isn’t the color the designers chose for normal Rathian, ‘cause it would have hammered in the whole “girl Rathalos” idea way too hard (you could argue that Azure Rathalos and Pink Rathian are meant to represent the colors attributed to their sexes or genders, but I think that that’s just a coincidence). Judging them strictly by personal preference, though, I think that I like the colors here a tiny bit more than I do normal Rathian’s, but not enough to earn it an extra point. 7/10.

Behavior/Lore: They’re literally just “Rathians but more aggressive.” Don’t know what I was expect--wait, there’s a reason for it?

So, Pink Rathians, like normal ones, can live almost anywhere, but they like foresty areas. The problem is, while regular Rathians have a form of camouflage thanks to their green coloring, Pink Rathians stick out like a sore thumb. Because they can no longer ambush prey or hide from other powerful monsters, they’ve become more aggressive than normal to make up for it; instead of ambushing prey, they just rush in and try to kill it as fast as possible so it can’t escape. As a side effect of this behavior, Pink Rathians are less likely to be targeted by other monsters who don’t want to incur the wrath of a dragon that probably ate its anger management instructor--the fact that they’re more powerful than normal Rathians helps, too.

As much as I wish there was more here, I have to give the devs props for at least giving a reason for the Pink Rathian’s increased aggression. Still, this is just “Rathian+,” so like Azure Rathalos, I’m giving this the same score as I did the base monster. 6/10.

Abilities: Pink Rathians have the same abilities as their base form, but as expected, they’re more dangerous. They rely less on their charge attacks, but they use more backflips and tail whips in their fighting style, and do so faster and more skillfully than normal Rathians. This makes them very dangerous, as fighting them is a constant struggle to keep your life from being drained away by poison.

Like with Azure Rathalos, I appreciate how there’s a clear idea of what makes fighting a Pink Rathian different from fighting a normal one. Using some moves more frequently than others changes up the fight quite a bit, and the fact that they’re more proficient with these moves surely makes said fight a hassle. 7/10.

Equipment: Okay, I’ve been neglecting the whole “looking at weapon descriptions” thing, so I’m gonna fix that here. First off, here’s a Charge Blade from MH4 called Dia Hekateru:

Of course the first weapon I choose to show off is the one from a Japan-only game, and the wiki doesn’t have a translation for its description. Well, its counterpart from MH4U, Dear Hecatel, is “The Queen's Charge Blade. Ends prey in a rosy spatter, like petals in a spring wind.” That’s...morbidly beautiful? Is that a thing? Well, in any case, the weapon itself looks very pretty. The sword looks cool and effective, while the shield definitely looks like it could turn into the head of an axe. The next two weapons require both Pink Rathian and Azure Rathalos parts, starting with a Long Sword called Wyvern Blade “Blaze”:

“A Long Sword made from a pair of kindred wyverns. Its colorful edges can slice open the sky.” Edges? Isn’t this supposed to be a single-edged blade? Okay, I’m getting nitpicky, that’s a sign to focus on something else. Well, the colors work well together, but not only is most of the Pink Rathian’s influence restricted to the sheathe, the weapon itself reminds me of cotton candy. Not exactly threatening, but I doubt monsters know what cotton candy is. Finally, here’s a Switch Axe called Azure Rose:

“A Switch Axe made from a Pink Rathian and an Azure Rathalos. Proof one bested the pair.” Okay, I really like this, both because of the blue axe head and because of the way the dominant color depends on the form the Switch Axe is in. If it’s in Axe Mode, then most of the visible weapon is devoted to Azure Rathalos, while Sword Mode represents Pink Rathian. Someone more versed in MH than me could possibly draw parallels between the different fighting styles the modes use and the monsters they’re themed after, but I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s just me reading too much into this. On to the armor, unfortunately the MHO images were the only ones on the wiki that I really liked, and while they look similar to the Rathian armor designs I showed before, they’re not exact. Take that as a plus or a minus depending on your preference, but here’s the Blademaster set either way:

Y’know, now that I compare this with the Rathian set I showed off before, they’re much more different than I thought they were. They’re from different games, so it makes sense, but this is still quite jarring. Anyways, I prefer said Rathian armor over this, at least for the men’s set, mostly because I prefer the helmet being made of monster parts rather than metal. The red parts erupting from it are a nice touch, though obviously they don’t match the color of the monster they came from. The women’s set from MHO loses some of the “warrior queen” theming present in the Tri version in favor of being more regal, but at least the dress actually looks like you could dodge roll with it (yes I’m still hung up on that). As for the Gunner version:

It’s not even close to resembling the Gunner Rathian armor I showed off before, so I won’t even try to compare them. Well, okay, I will say that the arm guard on the men’s armor from Tri is much more practical than the one seen here, ‘cause it doesn’t take up the entire arm. I get that the point is to shield yourself, but you also need to be able to flex that arm a little. Having part of the chest be covered in literal scale-mail is a nice touch, though. Also I haven’t brought any attention to it but that’s a really silly helmet. As for the women’s set, the helmet is very similar to the one I showed off in the Rathian review, but that’s where most of the similarities end. Said helmet comes with a facemask made of Pink Rathian scales (insert topical social distancing joke here), which can’t be easy to breathe through. Also, what the heck is that amorphous gold thing below the mask? What purpose does it serve other than confusing me? Final talking point, there’s a piece of metal dress here for some reason and it makes even less sense than having a full metal dress.

I think that the Pink Rathian equipment is about as good as the regular Rathian equipment; I like the weapons that also have Azure Rathalos parts more, but those aren’t the majority and basing my rating off of weapons that are also themed after another monster seems shallow. 8/10.

Final Thoughts and Tally: You might have noticed that every category here got the same score that it did in the Rathian review, and that says a lot about how I feel about Pink Rathian. I like it just as much as I do normal Rathian, and I’m sure I would have different opinions if I fought a Pink Rathian before, but I’ve barely fought any monster as is. I’m also not really willing to use too much of my brainpower on figuring out what I like better between them, mostly because I’m missing some of my meds and all the work I’ve had to do moving house has put enough strain on my brain as is. I hope to continue seeing support for the project, though; it’ll really help me when I work on future reviews! 7/10.

#Monster Hunter #Monster Hunter rating #zaph1337

4 notes · View notes

rwby-grimm-guardians · 4 years ago

Text

RWBY Grimm Guardians Arc 2: Beacon’s Fragile Light Ch XI

Hey, everyone! This is the eleventh chapter of Beacon’s Fragile Light! Here, we head to the main event: the Fall of Beacon! As usual, please enjoy.

Disclaimer: Still own nothing!

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(At the Amity Colosseum)

To say that everyone was up Shit Creek without a paddle would be an understatement. First, Yang’s match with Mercury was almost compromised, Summer’s Grimm instincts were beginning to run rampant, and now Pyrrha’s match with Penny ended horrifically with Penny being destroyed. Ruby, who was investigating Mercury, collapsed to her knees at what she had just witnessed.

Summer hugged her tightly, also shocked by the recent battle. She began rocking the teenager as the young leader started to cry. “I’m sorry....” The former STRQ leader whispered, her voice filled with guilt. She reluctantly turned her attention to Ruby’s scroll, pulling it out and texting the other girls in a group chat. “This is Cres. You...all saw that… Right?” She asked.

Yang texted, “Yeah. Are you two safe?” “Safe, yes.” The former leader replied. Blake texted, “I’m sorry…. I know this isn’t the best time, but Yang, Weiss and I need you and Ember at the fairgrounds.” “On our way.” The blonde replied. “Cres, can you help Ruby?” “I’ll try….” Summer typed, before putting the scroll away. “Ruby…?” She called out. Her daughter’s head shifted slightly towards her, making her tears more visible.

“Ruby… We need to help Yang and our friends…” The elder Rose said, gently helping the young leader to her feet. Ruby wiped her tears away, before nodding and hugging Summer tightly. “Shh…. I got you.” The former STRQ leader whispered, pecking her daughter’s forehead. “I’m always here.” After a few moments, Ruby whispered, “This isn’t fair…” The elder Rose nodded, “Believe me, I know. I agree.”

The two jumped as a Nevermore, carrying several Grimm Sapiens, broke through the safety barrier and into the arena, before it locked eyes with a shocked Pyrrha. Summer growled, before Ruby said, “I’ll help Pyrrha.” Nodding, the red clad woman said, “I’ll take care of the pawns then.” Nodding in agreement, the young leader grabbed one of Floating Array’s swords, duel wielding it with her scythe.

Summer paused as she and Ruby saw the Nevermore being attacked. Turning, the two spotted teams SSSN, CFVY, ABRN, FNKI, alongside Jaune, Nora, and Ren, weapons out. “We got this beast.” Jaune said. Ruby gave a small smile, before nodding at her Weapon Spirit. The former STRQ leader chuckled, “Alright. I’ll make sure that the weaklings don’t interrupt.” before tackling a couple of the Grimm Sapiens to the ground.

As the five teams combined their strengths to conquer the Nevermore, Summer let herself loose, removing her eyepatch and tearing into the Grimm Sapiens and dismembering them. She ripped one in half, tore off another’s head, and proceeded to crush one’s spine, before snapping its neck. She punched a hole through two Grimms’ chest, killing them instantly.

One Grimm Sapien managed to sneak past the red clad woman and run towards Ruby. Summer froze, before moving at inhuman speeds and getting in front of her daughter. She then caught the beast by its arms, tearing them off, before kicking it to the ground. Before it could stand up and attempt to tear out Summer’s throat with its teeth, Ruby shot it in the head, killing it.

After a few moments of silence, the five teams, Ruby, and Summer gave a look over of the arena. The Grimm Sapiens were dead, as well as the Nevermore. The young leader sighed, before looking at the taller woman, “Are you alright?” “Are you?” The red clad woman asked, covered in Grimm blood, only for her daughter to give her a concerned expression. Sighing, the taller woman nodded, “I’m fine. Just tired.”

Ruby eventually nodded, “Your eyepatch is off.” Summer nodded, “We’re gonna need this power.” “Does it….you know. Hurt?” The young leader asked. The taller woman paused, brief tapping her eyelid, before smirking, “Just a bit numb right now.” The two then went over to Pyrrha, who was crying… Understandably so, since she probably believed that she was RESPONSIBLE for Penny’s death.

“Pyrrha…” The taller woman said, feeling her heart twist as the redhead let out a quiet sob. “This is my fault.” She whispered, prompting Ruby to bend down and hold her. “Pyrrha… This is NOT your fault.” The young leader said. “You aren’t responsible for what happened to Penny.” The redhead just looked at the red clad teenager, “How can you just...say that as if…?” “As if we know that truth?” Summer asked, finishing Pyrrha’s question.

Jaune placed a firm, yet gentle hand on his partner’s shoulder. “Pyrrha… We know you well enough to know that you would never do this....to anyone.”” He said gently. “We’ll find the assholes who’re being this.” He then looked at Summer and Ruby, “Right?” Summer gave a gentle smile, placing a hand on the young man’s shoulder, “Definitely.” She hoped that Jaune wasn’t wrong about that.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(At Beacon Academy....)

“What...do we do now?” Weiss asked, breathing heavily as she almost collapsed to her knees in exhaustion. She, her mother, Blake, and Gambol had been fighting hordes of Grimm, White Fang soldiers, and rogue Atlesian androids for a good while now. Yang was almost there, but the heiress was beginning to worry if she, Ruby, and their Weapon Spirits wouldn’t arrive in time.

Gambol looked around, searching for a means to make a temporary retreat, before hearing the sound of footsteps and voices. Growling on instinct, she turned behind her and drew her blade, only to freeze when she noticed that what she heard were students. Arktis looked behind her and nodded at the elder faunus, “We keep fighting for now.” Blake nodded, “Gambol and I will see if we can derail the White Fang.” Weiss nodded as the two faunus went in another direction.

After reaching another part of the campus, Blake looked around, “Okay… Where the hell are we going to find the bastard in charge?” A sinister chuckle filled the room, saying, “Now that’s a little rude, don’t you think, Blake?” The teenage faunus froze, feeling her blood go cold as she turned to face the voice she hoped she’d NEVER have to hear again.

Gambol growled, her pupils turning into slits and her nails transforming into panther-like claws. A red-haired bull faunus came out the shadows, causing Blake’s eyes to widen in horror. “Gods… Adam…!” She said, causing the man to smile. “Hello, darling.” He said, giving a very arrogant leer towards the two. “Why and how the fuck are you not dead yet?!” Gambol shouted, furious that the man had the gall to show himself after everything he had done. He smirked, “Now where’s the fun in telling you?”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(Meanwhile…)

On a nearby rooftop, Cinder and Vampier grinned as they witnessed the chaos and destruction occurring. “Hope you’re getting good footage.” Vampier said to Mercury, who was broadcasting the violence. “Of course! This is fantastic!” He said. Cinder nodded, “Good.” She then turned to observe Emerald, who seemed...unsettled by what she was witnessing. The pyrokinetic sighed, deciding to not bother with Emerald’s emotions for the time being.

In his...or rather, THEIR office, Evergreen and Ozma watched the carnage happening throughout the campus. “We could’ve prevented this…” The brown haired man said in the mindscape that he and Evergreen shared. Evergreen looked at him in both anger and disbelief, “Oh really!? Then what was your ‘PLAN’ for that!?” The immortal soul opened his mouth, but said nothing, before lowering his head in shame and guilt.

Evergreen stayed silent for a few moments, before eventually sighing. “Look at me, Ozma.” He said. The immortal soul looked up at the man in shock. Not ONCE had he heard the headmaster call him by his REAL name. Evergreen took a deep breath, before saying, “I get that you have good intentions...but your actions are NOT supporting them.” The immortal sighed, “Then what do YOU think we should do?”

Evergreen, now in control of his body, grabbed the Long Memory, “You’re gonna sit back.” He then went out the door, saying, “I’M gonna fight back. Which is what we SHOULD have done from the start.” As he exited the building, the headmaster then began searching for Pyrrha. ‘I can’t believe I’m doing this….’ Evergreen thought. He did NOT want the red haired girl to take up the burden of one of the Four Maidens… But now, there WAS no other option left.

The earth beneath him trembled, before he heard the cry of a Wyvern. The dragon-like Grimm erupted from a mountaintop near Mountain Glenn. Even though he’s miles away from it, Evergreen can tell that it’s on route towards Vale, with possibly many lesser Grimm in tow. The headmaster began running faster, knowing that Beacon’s final moments may be drawing near.

As the students are still fighting, Pyrrha noticed the headmaster running towards them, before he came to a stop and began breathing heavily. Summer briefly split up from Ruby and went up to Evergreen and helped him upright. “Professor? What’s the problem?’ Pyrrha asked. Evergreen looked at her, “I need you to come with me…” Summer raised an eyebrow, before Evergreen nodded. “If something happens to her... veuillez la ressusciter en tant qu'esprit d'armes de Jaune.” He said.

Summer’s jaw almost dropped, “You...can’t be serious…!” The headmaster sighed, “Got no choice anymore…” “You...were against this… Right?” The taller woman asked, receiving a nod from Evergreen. “I hate myself for doing this…. But now the Maiden’s power is NEEDED.” The red clad woman opened her mouth to protest, but instead, she sighed, letting the man go. “You better be right about this…” She said. “I will do what I can if the worst happens.” Evergreen nodded, “Thank you.”

“Now then, please come.” The headmaster said. “I’ll try to explain as much as I can to you on the way.” Pyrrha raised an eyebrow, but eventually followed Evergreen. Ren, Nora, and Jaune looked at the two in confusion. “Where are they going?” Nora asked. “I don’t know…” Jaune said. Summer then shouted, “If you want to help them, then follow! That’s the best advice I can give you right now!” She then joined up with Ruby before the blonde teenager could give a response.

Clenching his fists, Jaune gave a nod to his teammates, ‘I’m going to see what’s going on.” He then ran to follow the headmaster and his partner. Cinder smirked from the rooftop. “Looks like things are finally in place.” She said, her eyes glowing. She gave a grin towards Vampier, “Looks like you’ll get your rematch sooner than expected.” The sadistic woman grinned, “Excellent.”

-To Be Continued-

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

And that’s chapter 11! Now then, I suggest going to your regular translating engine (Bing and Google is what I use, personally) and copy-pasting what Evergreen said to Summer in italics on the left side in French.

Have the right side set to English (or your native language) and you will know what Evergreen wants Summer to do.

Now then, the next chapter WILL be graphic in some way. For that, there WILL BE A WARNING. Get it? Got it? Good. Anyway, I’ll see ya later!

8 notes · View notes

not-so-secret-wonderland · 4 years ago

Text

hi i need someone to talk about some shit with me because like, call me crazy but

Luna Lovegood

as half french/ greek on her father’s side

and half Japanese on her mother’s

with the lineage Luna draws from both ancient Kitsune spirits and the Oracle Pythia

no wonder she knows so many things she shouldn’t and sees things no one else can, she has her eyes opened and waiting for the truth

like the truth about her cousin Draco, how Narcissa doesn’t even care about the war, and how much better their chances would be if the Malfoy’s stood on the side of the light.

her mother always called her Myōbu after the silver fox that used to dance above her head, whispering and chasing the light

she hasn’t seen the fox since Pandora died, but she knows he’s there

Draco Malfoy

A mix of the Black and Malfoy families, both powerful in their own rights

inheriting the power of the Shadow People from his mother, sneaking around the castle and not getting caught, having to lie so much it becomes his second nature, his number one defense against Voldy Modly, because he knows what lurks in the shadows is much scarier than a troubled man

the Veela Hydra that the Malfoys have drawn from for centeries effects his every walk with beauty, arrogance, and a surprising amount of power when he’s forced into dangerous situations, or angered beyond control

he fears someone will find out what he really looks like when he gets angry, but when Harry manages to almost die and he ends up yelling at the boy until his eyes are flashing and his hair is levitating, Harry just calls him beautiful

and because his stupid boyfriend didn’t realize that all the old wizard families are connected to ancient magic, they dive headfirst into research with Luna’s help.

Harry Potter

Snakes, he should’ve known snakes would be in his past, after all surely those who can Speak existed before Riddle

the ancestors on his father’s side are notorious for their snake dealings, some of them handlers, some of them working with the healing staff of Asclepius himself

drawing from Asclepius, Medusa, and Nagas, using magic like the distant realities he never got to know isn’t enough, but he doesn’t even realize his mother drew from the Sphinxes until Luna tells him

Harry learns the languages of his ancestors and wears them, and their snake affinity, with pride

his friends get roped into the new language thing too, don’t worry

Sirius and Remus

Harry demands they fire call the two and learn more, Draco doesn’t expect to but he does

Sirius also draws from the Shadow People, as most of the Blacks do. How else could he have snuck out of azkaban? Or hidden in plain sight for so long? but the Shadows don’t have to be bad, after all everyone always goes to the shade when it gets too hot

Remus can’t remember where he drew from before the Wolf. Once the infection is in ones body, werewolves mainly draw from the moon, it’s not all bad

Harry says that’s why he’s so calm all the time, Draco hits him for being rude, but Remus laughs and says the Shadows have always worked for him

The Weasley’s

Harry should probably be less surprised because of course they inherit most of their magic from Fire Spirits

though he does remember with fear the one time he actually made Ron mad and the air around them had gotten weirdly hot

he supposes it makes a lot of sense

but even more so is the Pranking Foxes of Huehuecoyotl Mr. Weasley calls on sometimes

Fred and George pefer that magic to the fire sprites, but not everyone can be so picky

no wonder their prank shop is doing so well, Mcgonagall is going to retire the second she finds out

Blaise Zabini

Blaise rolls his eyes when Harry asks, but Draco’s glaring at him so he divulges

His mother hails from the ancient Voodoo Priestesses and the Sirens that refuse to let sailors steal their gold

How else would she lure men in and get rid of them without a trace?

apparently the only reason his father made it as long as he did was because he drew from the Nymphs

Blaise refuses to tell him any Voodoo secrets and promptly kicks them out before Harry can start begging

Pansy Parkinson

It’s no secret that she’s the best seamstress in the school, rumor has it that she makes her ball dresses by hand because it takes less time than finding someone who actually does it right

Her family goes back nearly as far and the Potter’s, only instead of snakes she got spiders

Harry suddenly gets why Ron was always so afraid of her, but the more she tells him the more it makes sense

the eldest being the Djieien, and while Pans may not be a monster she’s defiantly hidden her heart ages ago so she didn’t get killed by Death Eaters

her father gives her the gift of being able a long defendant of Anansi, which really explains how she manages to know everything about everyone, even the first years

Harry decides that’s more knowledge than he feels comfortable with and makes a note not to cross her

Cho Chang

turns out her and Cedric are literally perfect for each other because they both draw from the dragons

Cho, her given name Nà-Huì after the stories passed down from her mother’s ancestors of the kind, gentle dragon Qilin that always wanted them of their choices and implored them to think of more than one solution to a problem

Her nickname comes from her father’s linage with Chollima. he tells her every day that she is too wonderful for anyone to ever control her

but when she meets cedric who hails from the water pixies and sunflower wyverns she doesn’t feel controlled she feels free

Millicent Bulstrode

They’re embarrassed to admit they have magic from trolls

Harry pats them on the back and says he sees it, which almost gets him punched in the face until he explains

Millie is a huge hoarder, but only if it matters. They keep the tickets from the concerts their mom used to take her too, the notebooks, poetry, dresses that they’ll never wear, makeup they hate, even the little squid their mom got them first year just because it reminds them of their mom

They also refuse to throw away the ugly blanket Pansy had made of the Slythetin crew as a joke, the ‘potter sticks’ button, or anything that reminds them of their friends.

Harry reminds them that there’s nothing wrong with being selfish when all you want is happy times with your friends.

Hermione Granger

after hearing about all her friends and how they all have some cool relation to magic, she feels rather down

Luna thinks it’s quite silly

so she gathers everyone around and tells them of the Owl of Athena, rumored to the greeks as a messager but really a creature so intelligent and woven into the daily lives of people that no one would think about their magic

something has to run all the owl networks and have a constant flow of information, but that information is so sacred it’s said the owl only chooses an inheriter every hundred years

but those who are chosen become the brighter spell casters of their times

and Hermione is near tears so she throws her arms around Luna, who can really only think of how similar her friend is to the owl griffin that’s so clearly in her bloodline

there’s just so much more that could happen?????

17 notes · View notes

fire-emblem-heroes-supports · 5 years ago

Text

Takumi/Rhea C-A Support

A/N: Possible content warning for Takumi’s description of his nightmares. Nothing terribly graphic (here) but see here for context if you’re concerned.

Written by @sharyrazade

C SUPPORT

Takumi: [notices woman vocalizing] (Huh, Azura sounds different. Does she have a cold or something?)

Takumi: [following garden path] Azura! Is that you?

[Takumi approaches “Azura’s” general direction.]

Takumi: [not looking closely] That’s an interesting song, Azura. I’ve never heard you-

Rhea: [notices Takumi] Oh! Hello, young man.

Takumi: [somewhat embarrassed] Oh, sorry! I thought you were someone else!

Rhea: [smiles gently] Pay it no mind, child. I do not believe we have met before.

Takumi: Of course! Were are my manners? My name is Takumi, prince of the Kingdom of Hoshido.

Rhea: You may call me Rhea. In my own world, I am the Archbishop of the Church of Seiros.

Takumi: Hmm, that’s interesting. Back home, we have plenty of priests and monks, but no archbishops. I guess whoever is on the throne serves a lot of the same purposes, but no bishops.

Rhea: Your homeland sounds just fascinating to me. Would you mind if we discussed your country and its religious practices sometime?

Takumi: Not at all! In fact, I could probably talk about it all-

[Hinata and Oboro appear]

Hinata: Lord Takumi! Finally, we found you!

Oboro: Lady Azura was actually in the library. You know how quiet she can be.

Rhea: [smiles] These two are just delightful. I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.

Takumi: Oh, yeah! These are Hinata and Oboro. They’re probably the best retainers anyone could ask for.

Rhea: It is a joy to meet you both.

Oboro: [stammers and blushes slightly]

[Hinata simply stares in awe at Rhea, mouth slightly agape.]

Takumi: Staring like that is very rude, Hinata. You were raised better than that!

Rhea: Pay it no mind. It was a pleasure speaking with you all.

[Rhea leaves.]

Hinata: [watching Rhea as she walks away] Damn!

Oboro: (She’s almost as gorgeous as Lord Takumi!)

Takumi: [sighs] I don’t know what I’m going to do with you two.

[Takumi and Rhea have reached support rank C.]

B SUPPORT

[On the archery range, the Summoner can be seen/heard fighting with an even more sour-than-usual Garon, waving Breidablik threateningly in the faces of Iago and Hans.]

Summoner: And didn’t I ban your goons from this place already?!

Garon: Hmph. You tolerate that one mad dog of a wyvern rider. I fail to see the difference. And you common rabble call us hypocrites!

Summoner: Yes, “tolerate!” But “tolerate” and “enjoy having around” have entirely different meanings! Do you have any idea how much effort it is keeping him away from Erika?! Or to keep Ephraim away from him in return?!

[One of the Fujin Yumi’s bolts misses the target completely, said target pockmarked with random marks- none of them at the center unusually.]

Takumi: [listlessly draws back the Fujin Yumi’s string, his focus seeming somehow impaired.]

Rhea: [approaches him from behind] Er…Prince Takumi…?

Takumi: [jolts to face her, looking noticeably fatigued.] What?! Oh! I’m sorry. It’s only you.

Rhea: [wearing a concerned expression] Are you alright? You look as though you slept poorly. Is something bothering you?

Takumi: [shortly] I did and no, nothing’s bothering me.

Rhea: If you’re certain.

Takumi: So what did you need, Archbishop?

Rhea: No need to be so formal. Rhea is fine. I simply wished to continue our conversation about your home and their faiths from the other day. If you’re not too busy, of course.

Takumi: Oh, of course! Well, where I come from, pretty much everyone has their own choice of god or exact practices, but nearly all of us worship the First Dragons in some capacity. The royal families of Hoshido and Nohr are even said to have been granted their blood as a symbol of their respective pacts.

Rhea: Interesting. Very interesting. (I knew it! I told Seteth it was not simply a hunch!)

Takumi: [glances sideways at Garon being yelled at by the Summoner] But about the Nohrians…they’re supposed to worship the same gods as everyone else on the continent, but…

Rhea: But what?

Takumi: I can’t put it into words that well…they’re just weird about it. I know, I know. Everyone says that about ways of doing things that aren’t their own, but those people just have a lot of weirdness surrounding the way they look at the world.

Rhea: Come now. I’m sure they cannot be that strange.

Takumi: Well, I could look past the Nohrian custom of giving three greetings or goodbyes, it’s not THAT strange. The fact that the Nohrian breeds of chickens are known to be paranoid and aggressive to the point of attacking people in flocks is a little interesting. Their strong taboo against wearing green to births, weddings, or funerals is pretty strange too. But it’s definitely weird for a country that’s about a third mountains and another third forests to have a strong aversion to, even contempt, for trees over a certain height.

Rhea: Is it…a specific type of tree, perhaps?

Takumi: No, just trees in general. If they can’t be avoided or cut down, I’m told a lot of old-timers will just reflexively spit whenever they pass one. Even one of their princes, one who called it an “infantile common superstition,” to me. He still avoids trees over a certain height on sheer instinct.

Rhea: Is green clothing considered a bad omen there as well?

Takumi: [shrugs] From the sound of it, yes. Someone else summoned from Nohr- a commoner- once mentioned in passing that his cousin showed up for his brother’s wedding in green and got beaten half to death for it. Talked about it like you’d talk about your friend losing his house in a flood- unfortunate, but unremarkable.

Rhea: Your neighbor seems to inspire some…passionate opinions. Just from your tone, I take it you’re no great lover of them.

Takumi: You could say that, I suppose. They did murder my father, after all. But what I think about them as a people…it’s not really much worse than the common opinions. That they’re loud, rude, arrogant, and obnoxious- generally speaking, of course. Honestly, you should ask my retainer, Oboro if you’re that curious about the topic. She has even less love for Nohr, but even then, she’ll still usually be polite when speaking to them.

Rhea: [shuts her eyes in contemplation briefly] I understand this may be something of a sensitive topic, but are you privy to the common Nohrian opinion of your people?

Takumi: [winces unconsciously] Oh, you know. The usual. That we’re filthy, depraved, sneaky, dishonorable, inscrutable, not really people, beasts in human skin, and so on. That we do horrible things to women and little girls as rites of passage, sacrifice live babies to the Dawn Dragon. All that good stuff.

Rhea: My goodness! Where in the worlds do they get these impressions?

Takumi: [sighs] I couldn’t tell you. From what I’ve learned, they mostly couldn’t either. You’d probably have to ask whatever demon gave them these ideas.

Rhea: Is that…what was bothering you?

Takumi: [visibly angry] No, it’s not. I told you. Nothing is bothering me.

Rhea: If you’re sure, child. If you ever need to confide-

Takumi: It’s nothing! NOTHING is bothering me, okay! So just drop it!

[Takumi storms off.]

Rhea: Oh dear. Perhaps I handled that poorly.

[Takumi and Rhea have reached support rank B.]

A SUPPORT

[In the same garden as earlier]

Takumi: Er, Rhea- Archbishop. I…I meant to apologize for that outburst the other day.

Rhea: [somewhat surprised] Oh! Prince Takumi! No, it is I who owes you the apology. I pried into a clearly sensitive topic and-

Takumi: No, the fault is mine. My conduct was unbecoming of a prince and a man in general, and there’s no excuse for that. I apologize for my behavior.

Rhea: Again, you need not ask my forgiveness.

Takumi: But you were completely right about one thing. Something WAS bothering me. And it continues to bother me.

Rhea: [nods sadly] I had suspected as much.

Takumi: Are you…sure you want to hear about this…? Pleasant is the very last thing this is.

Rhea: Yes, if it would help to put your mind at ease.

[Taking a deep breath, Takumi sits down next to Rhea, staring off blankly into the distance.]

Takumi: You had already figured out that I don’t sleep very well a lot of the time. Gods, it sounds so childish, but…I have very vivid nightmares. Violently vivid, in fact.

Rhea: [frowns slightly] No, I understand completely. I have…more than my share of sleepless nights, as well.

Takumi: Again, are you really sure you want to hear this stuff?

Rhea: If you’re inclined to share with me, I will listen.

Takumi: [exhales sharply] This is just one of them, but this recurring nightmare of mine…I can’t even describe it that well…but I could tell that it was in a town in Hoshido. The architecture told me that much. And strangely enough, I was this…ghost thing. I could feel the physical world- but I couldn’t really interact with it.

Rhea: That sounds…most unsettling.

Takumi: And I’m just getting started too! You know how I mentioned I could interact with the world? Oh, gods…there was so much blood. It must have been up to my shins! I keep wading through it to find the townspeople…it was probably the most terrifying thing I could imagine. So many bodies…they weren’t soldiers even, but civilians- old men, women, children! Most of them were missing ears, eyes, noses, hands, heads- half of them didn’t even have any skin left!

Rhea: [looking shocked and horrified] My goodness! That IS terrible! I scarcely have the words for it!

Takumi: [winces] It gets worse. Where did all that skin go? When I turned my head to face the “monument” the Nohrians had built in the town square, I was sick to my stomach. And Oboro…gods, the first time I had this nightmare, I couldn’t look her in the eye for a week! And Hinata…he was the worst of all! They weren’t just murdering him…they were TORTURING him! And you know what disturbed me most? It wasn’t even that I couldn’t even do a damn thing about it. It was that they were laughing as they did this!

Rhea: You poor thing…have you ever talked to anyone about these terrible nightmares?

Takumi: No, not really. And anyone I could, I…don’t think they could understand anyway.

Rhea: What do you mean?

Takumi: Well, my brother, for one. He’s so strong, that even in his nightmares, he’d hand those bastards their heads- literally! Same goes for my sister, too. And my other sister…no, I could do that to her. She’s sensitive enough that she’d probably start to have these nightmares just from me even starting to describe them! And her retainers would never forgive me either!

[Takumi starts to choke back tears, lying his head in Rhea’s lap.]

Rhea: [strokes his hair] You poor dear…you’ve suffered so terribly in silence.

Takumi: [sobs] Y-you must think I’m some kind of m-monster for having thoughts like this! I just want- all I ever wanted- was to protect Hoshido- protect my people!

[Takumi continues to sob as Rhea strokes his hair.]

Rhea: [sings] Iiiiiiiiin time’s flow…see the glow…of flames ever burning bright…on the swift…river’s drift…broken memories alight…

[Takumi sits back up, noticeably calmer.]

Takumi: That song…it’s so relaxing. That’s probably why I thought you were Azura!

Rhea: Yes, my mother would often sing it for me when I was young. It is quite calming to me, even to this day.

Takumi: My mother- well, my stepmother technically, but she was the only mother I ever knew- had a beautiful singing voice too.

Rhea: [smiles] She sounds just lovely. Inside and out.

Takumi: Yeah, she was. She was.

Rhea: And on the contrary, Takumi. I do not think of you as a monster or a demon in the slightest.

Takumi: Wait, why not?

Rhea: Because that fear and concern is born from a deep and sincere love of your people. I cannot- will not- blame you for that same love. I have encountered a great many powerful princes, nobles, merchants, and what have you, in my time. If even half of them had half of your concern for their own people, the world- all of our worlds- would be in far better condition.

Takumi: [finally smiles] Archbishop- Rhea…thank you. It’s…not exactly easy for me to open up to people, let alone about things like this. Again, thank you.

Rhea: Think nothing of it, child. If you ever require a sympathetic ear or a shoulder to cry on, you may seek me out.

Takumi: And even though I came apart a bit there, I still meant every word I said. I don’t care what people want to call me. A monster, a demon, a zealot, whatever. My purpose is now and will always be to protect my people- from whatever wants to harm them.

Rhea: [smiles] A very admirable purpose.

[Takumi gets up and walks away.]

Rhea: (If only more humans could be like that young man instead of him... that thief.)

[Takumi and Rhea have reached support rank A.]

#fire emblem fates #fire emblem three houses #male and female heroes #takumi #rhea #takumi x rhea #submission

32 notes · View notes

recurring-polynya · 5 years ago

Text

In my long tradition of immediately making myself into a liar, here’s your stupid RenRuki Hogwarts AU drabble. The trick is that this started out in my head as a fan art and then I remembered that time I tried to draw one of Hitsugaya’s ice dragons. But I did it! I’m so proud of myself!

Me: At least you got it out of your system.

My brain: What if Hufflepuff Renji got his tattoos as a curse?!

Me: $#@&(

ENOUGH! Here goes:

"Hey! Hey, Rukia! Guess what!"

Rukia didn't bother to look up from her task as a head with a spiky red ponytail popped in through her window.

"The wyverns have fledged?"

"THE WYVERNS HAVE FLEDGED! How did you guess?"

Weren't Gryffindors supposed to be the loud ones? The yellow-and-black tie that was, today, knotted around Renji's forehead suggested otherwise.

"For starters, you mentioned this morning that you thought it would be soon, and you're rarely wrong about these things. Secondly, we're on the thirty-third story of a tower generally considered to be unscalable, even for you, Mr. Far-Too-Much-Arms-and-Legs."

"You aren't supposed to be mixing up potions in the dorms," Renji pointed out matter-of-factly.

No, no sorting mistakes here. Renji was reliable. Strong. Trusting, to a fault. Would never rat her out, not in a million years. Not too bad to look at, either, if you were into broad shoulders and big grins and that sort of nonsense.

Some of the other Ravenclaws looked down on Rukia for associating with Hufflepuffs, but that's because they didn't appreciate the value of field expeditions. Or, for that matter, friends.

"Since when do you care about what we are and aren't supposed to be doing? I'm pretty sure you aren't supposed to be riding juvenile wyverns around school grounds, and yet, what is it I see here?"

What she saw had two wickedly clawed feet that were currently gripping her window ledge, two huge leathery wings, between which her best friend was sitting, and a mouth full of sharp, glistening teeth, each as long as her index finger.

"His name is Scout."

"Of course it is. Does he spit acid, as you suspected?"

"Uhhh, more like drools it. It's not terribly strong, only partially melted through my Quidditch gauntlet."

"Better that than your hand!"

"I dunno. Infirmary's free. Quidditch gear is expensive. And he didn't mean to, didja, boy? Who's a good wyvern? It's Scout!"

Rukia spared a glance out the window to see the two-legged dragonet wiggling happily in response to her pal's enthusiastic neck scratching. Ugh, he really was disgustingly adorable when he had some scaly monstrosity in his thrall.

"In any case, that's double good news. It means I won my bet with Ishida, and I get to test out this Potion of Acid Resistance. Toss me your other gauntlet."

Rukia swept her flask out of the way just as the leather glove sailed across her workbench. "Okay, cross your fingers!" She tipped the pale purple potion onto the gauntlet. There was a low-pitched whistle and a puff of smoke... and then it looked exactly the same as it always did.

Renji raised his eyebrows hopefully.

Rukia picked up the gauntlet. "Scout! Hey, boy! Fetch!" She hurled the gauntlet out the window, over Renji's shoulder.

"Wahoo!" Renji howled as Scout eagerly spun, folding his wings into a hunting stoop.

Rukia was changing out her lab goggles for her flying goggles when the wyvern reappeared at her window, lazily flapping his wings and holding out the gauntlet eagerly. Rukia retrieved it with a pair of tongs and dropped it onto her workbench with a sizzle. The leather seemed unharmed, aside from some toothmarks, despite the fact that the goo dripping from it was eating through the wood of the table.

"Success!" she announced, and proceeded to dowse her own flying gloves and cloak with the potion.

"Well, here's to science, but you gonna be ready sometime this century? Scout's ready to goooooooo!"

Rukia dumped a bucket of sand over Renji's glove, then fished it out and shook it off, examined it and tossed it back. "You really ought to let me buy you a new pair of those," she remarked, climbing up onto the window frame.

"Accepting gifts from the Seeker of my archrivals? Never!"

He grabbed her outstretched hand and hauled her onto Scout's warm, scaly back. She landed in an awkward position, sidesaddle, her face far too close to Renji's. She barely had a chance to register the cute little embarrassed face he made before he picked her up by her upper arms, turned her around, and settled her very comfortably in front of him, his legs on either side of hers, his broad back acting as a very convenient windbreak. She liked that he never made her ride pillion; she'd never be able to see a thing.

"Here," she said, passing him the last of the Acid-Proofing Potion. "Get your other glove and your cloak."

"Aw, that first glove was just an accident," Renji said encouragingly to his wyvern while he shook out the last dregs of the potion. "Scout would never drool on me on purpose, wouldja, boy?"

Scout made a blood-curdling yodel.

Renji leaned forward, getting a good grip on the place where the wyvern's wing joined onto its back with one hand, and wrapping his other arm around Rukia's midsection. What kind of lunatic rode a newly fledged wyvern bareback, anyway, let alone one-handed?

"Where d'you want to go?" his voice dropped into her ear.

"Everywhere," Rukia replied.

They shot into the sky.

#renruki #my fanfic #bleach hogwarts au #renruki au #rukia kuchiki #renji abarai #i love them #don’t worry there will still be fanart #seriuosly tho think about it CURSED TATTOOS

23 notes · View notes

yukiwrites · 6 years ago

Text

Where Your Loyalty Lies [10/??]

Summary: Kamui’s kidnapping didn’t go as planned – She managed to get away and ended up at Silas’ doorstep. They were raised as siblings, but she has always felt different; her fangs and red eyes and urges to run amok, what did they all mean? Will going to the castle as the Crown Prince’s retainer help her find more clues? Will the war between Nohr and Hoshido be the answer to everything?

Previous chapter <=> AO3 <=> Next chapter

Chapter 10: Bloodbath

The sway of a horse under Kamui felt foreign, although welcome.

The knight had always wanted to ride; not only during her training days, but even during her childhood -- watching Leopold go on rides with Silas and seeing how much fun her brother was having; being scared of herself as the beasts shied away from her no matter what her father did to circumvent the situation... Honestly, Kamui had already written out the possibility of ever riding. With the passing of years, this minor setback was forgotten and overcome within the knight's heart, truly.

Still, having the opportunity to ride a horse -- and not any horse, Lord Xander’s stallion -- brought her a weird sense of elation.

It was so to the point that even the loud roar in the back of her mind stopped -- and if she could look at herself, she would notice how her eyes weren't randomly shining anymore. Narrowing her gaze, Kamui thought that it was odd that she could feel that way after reaching such a previously unbearable point of her itch: now her right arm pulsated with pain from the previous nail-digging, and although her senses were still heightened to an inhuman level, she felt mostly... in control.

Inside her mind, Kamui could almost see herself and her inner beast sharing a handshake, finally reaching an agreement after so many years of clashing, pain and fear. The beast knew it would get its fill of destruction in the near future if it behaved during the ride, and Kamui could somehow count on it to help her survive through her first battle, as long as she stayed calm on the way there.

Richard stole unamused -- mostly disgusted, really -- glances to Kamui's way, his steed accompanying Xander's in speed. The knight held onto her Lord for her dear life, utterly unused to it all, and missed her partner's glances most of the time. The few moments their eyes met, she simply nodded in acknowledgement, her thoughts too jumbled to remember about Richard's displeasure to knowing of her condition regarding riding.

So many factors were culminating into a picture of chaos -- the purring beast at the back of her mind, waiting for its turn; the burning axe by her waist, ready to draw its first blood; the unfamiliar men under her command, unwilling and obliged to obey her; the suddenness of her first battle, galloping closer and closer alongside the fast-approaching dusk -- that it was a wonder Kamui managed to keep herself from screaming.

The knight remembered her training days, the ideals she planted still budding inside of her. 'I want to win this war peacefully', she heard her voice echo, ‘I’ll use of my family’s influence to command my own troops on the path of peace’. I don't want to needlessly kill people. Were the most frequent thoughts in her mind during her training.

Yet there she was, clinging unto her Lord, riding forward to an inevitable and desperate battle.

Although the contents of the baby griffon's letter were unknown to anyone but Xander, there was no actual need to see which words were written: the very use of a grifflet already evidenced a need of haste, for these specimen were trained to obey only those bearing royal -- dragon -- blood.

The environment was a harsh one for griffon's offsprings; the race was dying out simply because its grifflets couldn't survive on their own after hatching. Which was reason why the nohrian royal family decided to raise the abandoned baby griffons by training them to become delivery birds until they were larger than hawks. After that, they would receive riding training and serve as honorary mounts for the royal family until it was time to release them back into the wild so they could procreate. Their eggs would then be sought by the Egg Collectors (a very high-risk profession only the most brave alpinists dared to specialize in) and brought back to Krakenburg for yet another grifflet training.

Since they were prideful beasts of legend, they had to be kept away from the wyverns, although the two species still shared underground caves for training. Insoever, they refused to be handled by anyone short of the best, and would only ever truly obey someone who had the ancient mark of the Dusk Dragon in their blood.

Thus, the members of the Royal Family always took a baby griffon with them whenever they were sent in a mission -- so that, if any unexpected event were to transpire, the griffons could be immediately seen as a plea for aid from a prince or princess.

Still, they all rode desperately in Lady Camilla's call of distress, a mere mounted company never enough to catch up to her Wyvern Company in terms of speed. The First Princess had been away for over three days now, for as long as Kamui had been in the castle, and most likely had arrived at the Stockcarres Abyss with the first light of the day. If her distress call arrived after this many days of battle, the probabilities of Princess Camilla being injured were high.

Of course, there were also many other possibilities, to name a few: a hoshidan detachment might have reached her location, or their hold in the position could also be too strong for her flying units to overcome on their own, since Hoshido was well-known for its winged archers. Taking these and many others into account, all of them had to be ready for every single outcome, act accordingly and, most importantly, prioritize the First Princess' life.

Kamui's heart thundered by her ears, being deafened only by the loud galloping all around her. She clutched into her Lord's armor, scowling deeply; etching the mission into her heart.

No matter how many factors were being added up against her, she would do what she had vowed to do: To protect her Lord, abide to his orders and fight in his name until the battle was won or her blood was spent.

Going back to her vows brought the royal retainer much-needed solace, all things around her considered. She took a deep breath for the first time in hours, the darkest of nights engulfing them with each stride.

They would be riding in utter and complete darkness were it not for the traditional fire wisps that each soldier held a special scroll to: A magical fire (The Second Prince's own work) would follow whoever held the scroll for as long as it was needed. Of course, to walk around with literal beams of light over their heads would compromise every and any operation, regardless if it needed stealth or not, so the scroll could be controlled by special words any person -- bearing magical ability or no -- could utter so as to activate or deactivate them.

Ever since dusk fell and for as long as they had been riding through the night, only the soldiers at the corners of the formations -- divided by squads -- held the magical fire. It would be an eerie sight should Kamui have been paying attention, truly. The afterimage the magical fire left in its wake poorly illuminated the back columns, making their Company not only seem larger, but also lifeless and deadly.

Due to Nohr's weather conditions, even after dawn broke the skies would still take a long time to brighten -- and this 'ghost army' would be able to wash over the hoshidan forces with ease, being used to see in the dark as every nohrian was.

They had been heading upward for some time, the fast approaching Stockcarres Abyss finally within their reaches. Xander took one hand off of the reins and unsheathed his Divine Blade, Siegfried, pointing it upwards. An eerie purple glow followed the sword's movements, as though it was cutting through the very air.

Kamui's eyes followed the movement in slow-motion, her body almost being drawn to the blade, as though part of it called to her.

T-thump.

It's here, the knight managed to think as her blood started to boil inside her veins. Her eyes glowed in a deep and bright red, her head following Siegfried's movements as her body started to feel light.

There was a moment of utter silence, between every single horse's gallops, into which the world breathed before Xander's voice cut through it all as though it were a sudden thunder in a cloudless night.

"For the glory of Nohr!!"

The men roared in response, the sound of their blades leaving their sheats was almost as deafening as their drums of war.

And yet, amidst all of that noise, Kamui could hear it before anyone did -- the sounds of battle.

Her body perked up immediately, light because of the rousing beast inside, not realizing she stood on her two feet by Bucephalus' back, holding onto Xander's shoulder for support. "My Lord! The battle's upon us!" She narrowed her eyes so as to focus, her heightened senses showing her a large volley of arrows being shot from the ground towards a flying company to the east.

Xander's brow flickered, the Prince adjusting the hand which held the reins so as to wear his battle stance. "What do you see, Kamui?!" His voice was thunder, and Kamui was the bare ground that received it.

Her body shook with his determination, her heart thumping in his rhythm. "Wyverns are being cornered more to the east, after this very patch of woods beside us!" She moved her chin towards it, as though Xander could see her. Richard and everyone else could, however, and stared at the interchange with differing levels of amusement and amazement. "We're going straight into their ground forces!"

"Good. On me!"

Kamui grasped onto his armored shoulder, looking at the precarious situation over the eastern skies. She couldn't make up much since they were still very far away, but from the little she could see, there were at least thrice as many kinshis as there were wyverns, and they were indeed shooting from a distance.

"Permission to detach, milord!" Kamui breathed out, switching the weight of her body to one leg, ready to propel herself out of the horse. "I shall take the bowmen squad with me through the woods and join back with the main force right at the abyss' mouth!"

Xander glanced at the woods on their right, then back at the approaching battlefield ahead. "Permission granted! Spare no man!"

The retainer unconsciously smirked, and would have licked her lips weren't she standing over a horse's back. She brought one hand to her lips, whistling in such a high frequency all horses turned their ears to her. "Bowmen squad, on me! We go through the woods! The rest of you -- protect our Lord!!"

The adrenaline of the situation left no room for doubt. The archers immediately positioned themselves to the right, ready to enter the woods at the next trail. "Ser, yes Ser!"

"Follow me closely!" If you can, that is! Her beast thought as she put one foot over Xander's shoulder, using it as support for her to jump to their right, towards the woods.

Richard opened his mouth in disgust, lifting his lips in disapproval. "She just- she stepped on you- Lord Xander..."

The Crown Prince smirked widely, his horse now much faster than before. He tilted himself forward, ready to ride the momentum to take out as many enemies as he could. "Focus on the battle ahead, Richard!"

Groaning, the royal retainer took out the long lance from his back. "Always, my Lord."

Kamui dove deep into the woods the moment she landed on its soft ground, her body pulsating with power. The trail inside was narrow and full of overgrown roots as well as low branches. "Eyes open for the terrain! Try not to use the wisp fire if you can!" She jumped from branch to branch, her body morphing into something else as she did.

The usual horns grew on her head, the scales covered the entirety of her forearms, bringing long and thick claws with them. A tail slithered behind her, giving her much more balance than she had ever had before -- she felt like she would be able to fly if she stretched herself out a little bit more... just a bit more.

The sound of the fighting above called for her -- her body craved for it, the axe over her hip almost begging to be drawn, which she complied to. The moment the weapon was on her hand, the world seemed to slow down all around her.

She looked right and left, seeing how each leaf passed by her at the slowest of speeds, as though only she were the one able to move in a motionless world. She could feel the abyss' mouth gnawing right ahead, its pressure almost sucking her in before she even left the forest.

"The moment we're out of the woods, there's only a narrow space before the mouth! Cock your arrows and be ready to shoot upwards the moment we're out! And don't go on falling on me!" She sneered, hearing a few snorts in response before their acknowledgement.

"Ser!"

She ran ahead of her subordinates, only their galloping right behind reminding her of them. "And don't miss, men! We have a few wyverns right above our heads!"

"Who do you think we are? We ain't missin'!" One of the men replied, instigating a roar from the others.

"Hah! Tha's what I like to hear! Let's go, men!" She leaped.

From the sky, the First Princess Camilla had difficulties controlling her wyvern. "Marishka! What has gotten into you, girl? Do as I say!" She whipped the reins, though it seemed useless -- the winged dragon had been restless for the past minute or so. It pulled its neck to the woods below them, as though something either called for her or scared her to death. "You need to focus on these archers right in front of us, darling! Otherwise we'll be seeing the last of this damned fight!" The Princess vociferated, pulling the reins upwards with a strength that shouldn't belong to someone as fair as she were.

The kinshi knight a dozen of meters ahead of Camilla shot arrow after arrow, taking the princess' wyvern's odd behavior to his favor.

One of them grazed through Camilla's face, right beside the bangs over her right eye.

The wyvern flinched amidst its struggle for the aura of rage inside the princess mounting it momentarily brought it back to its senses.

"My dear, was it not taught in your hoshidan schools that it's rude to wound a lady's face?" She said coldly, raising her giant axe overhead. She would throw it like a pebble if she had to; taking into account how surrounded by enemies she was, throwing things around was basically her only choice.

"Lady Camilla!" A female voice shouted from below, making the princess but blink and tilt her head to it.

"Reinforcements! Xander made it-"

Camilla lost her words as a young woman simply leaped from the woods below towards her, landing gracefully over Marishka, beside herself. The wyvern finally stopped squirming and focused on the enemy ahead, not minding how someone other than Camilla was mounting it.

Well, mounting certainly wasn't the word -- Kamui held the princess' shoulder with one hand, twirling a strange axe with the other, as she stood on Marishka's back, almost by its wings.

"Oh, my!" Camilla allowed herself to muse for a moment before burning a whole on the enemy with her gaze. "There are more under the abyss! Watch out for their archers!"

"Men! You heard the princess! Shoot!!" Kamui yelled to the air, and for a hot moment nothing happened.

Countless arrows blocked the sky right after -- more arrows than anyone could think possible to be shot at the same time. They washed over many of the hoshidan flying forces as the bowmen quickly turned their horses so as not to fall down the abyss' mouth, immediately drawing their bows towards it once again.

"Throw your wisp fire scrolls into it! SMOKE THEM OUT!" The knight roared, leaping from Marishka towards the kinshi knight ahead.

A flash of fire blinded the hoshidans in hiding, allowing the archer squad to make it rain arrows over them. With the new light, Kamui could catch a glimpse of the horrified man's expression a heartbeat before she hammered her axe over his head, turning it into mush. The bird under her panicked as she hit its wings with the momentum, falling down towards the battlefield. "Stay by the Princess! Cover her at all costs!" She yelled before jumping out of the sinking kinshi, right into the hoshidan formation’s heart.

There were swordsmen and lance masters, but most of them were archers. She swung her axe with gusto, widening her eyes as their blood splurged on her face. That was it! The destruction she wanted! More!

She leaped overhead, dodging spears and arrows alike, quickly swinging around the axe over her wrist, twirling around herself to hit three men at once. More!

She was surrounded. But her blood boiled for the action; the hoshidans all around her clearly fearful for their life, and not because she was a great fighter, no. Most of her limbs were overrun by scales; her head sported a pair of long, white horns and a silver scaled tail whipped itself against those who delved too close.

"M-Monster!" They yelped as they rose their weapons.

More more more more more more more more! She widened her smirk, showcasing her fangs as her eyes glowed.

The soldiers had abstained from shooting her in fear of hitting their comrades -- she was quite literally in the middle of them, after all -- but the monstrous display in front of them made the archers instinctively reach for their bows, their kodachis forgotten by their hips.

Kamui could hear the blood rushing through her veins, her heartbeat all but deafening her to the outside world. She broke through one, two, ten bows and just as many swords, her axe delivering her Lord Xander's judgement to them.

'Spare no lives!' were her Lord's orders.

And she would obey.

More more more more more!

"助けて！" The voice of a desperate man she crippled rang as a clear bell inside her mind.

A familiar yet forgotten language. ‘Help me’, it screamed.

The world came crashing down over the knight in an instant -- the sound of swords piercing bodies, of blood flowing, of pleas for help, of arrows hitting their marks; the strong smell of innards of a body being cleft in two, the putrid stench of death and blood itching her nose with such intensity Kamui immediately bent forward, her eyes going back to their usual color.

Chaos was unraveling itself all around Kamui -- with her as its center.

Her eyes wide and body frozen, she lifted her horrified gaze to the dying man before her. She had broken his legs, and not in a pretty way, either; they were hit with such strength only the tendons held the femur to the shin, a pool of blood gushing out from the wound.

The man pleaded for his life with a hoshidan accent, the words scratching at Kamui's brain in an almost remembrance. Could she had known him? From back when she lived in Hoshido?

The knight's body deflated, her shoulders sagging as her vision started to spin. Could she have met one of these soldiers she so easily killed, back in her forgotten past? Could they have been acquaintances of her family’s? Perhaps longtime friends?

Was she butchering her own people?

The air was scarce; her body swayed back and forth. Weren't her axe draped unto her wrist, it would have fallen on the wet ground.

"Wet?" The knight heard her voice speak, her eyes trailing downwards. They immediately widened.

The ground, once brown, was dyed in a dark red -- the liquid flowing from the fallen soldiers watering it into a picture of war. All around her were broken bones, broken bodies and overflowing individual springs of blood.

She had done it.

She dyed the ground red.

The man pleading for his life in front of her got silent, death claiming him slowly as it saped him of his vital fluids. Kamui didn't notice how her mouth was open, midway to a phrase; though what she was going to say eluded even Kamui herself. She reached out to him with her free hand, and the sight of her scaled limb paralyzed her with dread.

Would she be consumed by her beast like that every single time they rode to battle? Would she come to actively enjoy killing people as the beast took over her body?

... Would she always take joy in butchering her brethren?

"What are you doing, spacing out like that, girl?!" A familiar voice rang into her ears, pulling the strings controlling her body into turning her head towards it.

The sight of yet another dead body falling right in front of her dug deeply into her heart. A hoshidan had managed to put himself on his feet and was about to attack Kamui from behind, but was struck down by Richard's long-reaching lance.

"Well?! Look alive! We might have the upper hand, but that doesn't mean we get to laze around!" He adjusted the horse under him, "if you're not fit to fight, don't come to the battlefield with a weak resolve." He narrowed his eyes to her changed form, then reared his horse towards the ending battle. To his Lord's side.

Kamui stared into the space, her mouth so dry it almost cracked; her eyes burning with unshed tears. She took a deep breath, immediately regretting inhaling the putrid smell of fresh corpses. "I have... to get used to this..." She gritted her teeth, fighting the visceral need of simply hugging her knees and going back to her Master's manor to train.

‘That was a great speech n’ all, but yer gonna end up killin’ more people than you’d like, ya know.’ Sir Gallahard’s words rang inside Kamui, making her hands twitch in an almost movement.

Once again she breathed in, forcing herself to get used to the smell, feeling the bloody grime seep into her boots. "Master..." She whispered, tasting the death under her tongue.

No, not her Master. The one she had to focus her efforts into wasn't Gallard, but Xander. She raised her head to finally take a look at the battlefield -- it was overrun by corpses; hoshidan corpses. The moment Xander's reinforcements came in, the battle took a sudden turn in Nohr's favor, decimating their enemies.

She found her Lord standing tall over his horse and clenched her fists.

I have to get used to this, I have to get used to this, I have to get used to this, she thought over and over, finally managing to move her body after what felt like an eternity.

Her steps were still as light as before, and she needed but sprint for a second or two to reach Xander's side.

"My Lord!" She said, surprised her voice came out at all. "Lady Camilla is safe and the enemies down the abyss were dealt with." Her voice reported before her own mind could catch up.

Subordination was indeed rooted deeply into her heart -- she made herself available for orders even before she could process everything that was going on.

"Very well, thank you for the report, Kamui. Although the shift of battle was obvious, it is good to know that my sister is safe." Xander swayed his blade backwards -- to splatter the blood off of it -- before sheathing it back, looking down at Kamui with curiosity. "So these are the changes you mentioned earlier." He said firmly, his eyes running through Kamui's body, latching onto her restless tail.

Suddenly did Kamui remember that she still hadn't shifted back and was hit by a wave of shame. Her slitted eyes rounded up and her cheeks reddened; however, with the poor lighting, none of these were noticeable. "Um, yes, my Lord."

"Very interesting." He placed one hand over his chin for a moment or two, but immediately held Bucephalus' reins again. "I shall take a better look later, if you'd allow, Dame Kamui. For now, let us secure the battlefield and regroup with Camilla."

Kamui lowered her head and closed her eyes, shutting down her uneasiness deeply into her chest. "Yes, my Lord."

There wasn't much of a battle left, now. The knight simply followed her Lord by foot through the edges of the cliff towards the place First Princess Camilla had landed.

She was nowhere to be found, however.

Xander didn't falter, simply nodding to the gapping abyss in front of them. He took a deep breath, instigating Kamui to close her eyes so her Lord's words would reverberate through her bones. "Tonight, Nohr defended its glory!" He shouted, lifting his right arm.

The wind carried his thunderous voice, which echoed around the high peak a few moments before all soldiers roared in response. Left and right did men leave the woods, following Xander back to the center of the battlefield. Squad leaders bowed to him with their casualty reports, the eery cheer making Kamui's stomach turn.

They were soaking their boots in the very blood they drew, yet everyone was smiling; celebrating the victory.

"My Lord, we could not find Lady Camilla-" a fearful messenger dared speak, cowering.

Xander's frown lessened -- one could actually think he smiled -- as he looked up to the sky. "Worry not, she will join us soon-"

"Why, it's bad manners to talk behind a lady's back, Brother!" The First Princess' voice sounded from behind them -- under the cliff. Not a heartbeat later, her wyvern beat its large wings and flew over their heads, lifting hair and capes alike.

Xander patted his horse on the neck, dismounting it at the same time Camilla landed a ways from them. "My sister. How it pleases me to see that you are safe and sound."

"Oh, Xander. I do thank you for your prompt response -- and for the aid, of course!" She opened her arms to hug her brother, who already expected such act and reciprocated swiftly.

A movement by the corner of Kamui's eyes made her reflexively raise her hand, catching a piece of cloth -- a handkerchief. She looked to her right, lifting up her gaze to look at the still-mounted Richard.

"How unsightly. At least clean yourself in the presence of your Lord and his Lady Sister." He pulled the reins, guiding his horse away.

Her eyes expressionless, Kamui tilted her head to the side in confusion before tentatively wiping her face with the soft cloth.

Once she looked back at it, its color had changed from white to red.

Her stomach fell once more, the entirety of her body feeling colder and colder by the second. Kamui dared look down at herself -- however, thankfully or regretfully, due to the poor lighting she couldn't discern if the large stains over her blue and white uniform were mud or... something else.

Another presence made Kamui shoot her head up, though a second too late. An affectionate arm coddled her into half of a hug. "And this little darling! Her dashing entrance left me speechless to this moment, Xander! Will you not reconsider taking her under you and give her to me instead? Little Beruka would welcome a partner as cute as she."

"I am capable of performing my duty by myself, Lady Camilla." A cold, almost childish voice sounded by Kamui's left, making her turn her gaze to it: a young woman -- nay, a young girl? Almost half as tall as Kamui, most likely aging less than fifteen walked at precise steps towards them.

She carried something round on her hand, the wyvern rider armor she wore looking too foreign in such a small girl. Her short blue hair rounded her face into a childish attempt of appearing older than she probably was. The expression, or lack thereof, on her face was not of a child's, though.

As this ‘Beruka’ approached, Kamui's eyes trailed to the thing she carried, her heart already giving up on feeling; locking itself inside her chest instead.

"I brought the enemy commander's head, as requested, Lady Camilla." Beruka lifted the severed head she held by the scalp, its eyes and tongue limping lifelessly with the sudden movement.

Camilla dismissed the gesture with a wave of her hand, a somewhat dark giggle shaking her body. "How wonderful, little Beruka. Thank you so very much, dear. Do put it away neatly inside a bag, hm?"

"Very well." Beruka closed her eyes in compliance, turned on her heel and left.

Kamui stood still by Camilla's chest, her entire body as well as mind and heart feeling numb.

"Well, Xander? Please do give her to me! And her little horns are so terribly adorable!" Camilla patted the royal retainer's head, carefully observing the protruding horns, naturally changing the subject as though a severed head was nothing out of the ordinary.

Xander internally winced at his sister's lack of decorum regarding another person's life, though masked it with a mirthless snort. He knew it most likely had been King Garon's orders to bring the enemy commander's head, but he would rather do it himself instead of letting his precious family dirty their hands like that. Nevertheless, he walked towards Camilla, touching her shoulder so she would let go of his retainer. "I am afraid I must refuse, dear Sister. Dame Kamui has been a tremendous asset during the battle, and I would very much like to keep her by my side."

The knight managed to take a step back, unsure of what expression she wore. "Forgive me, Lady Camilla; I have already vowed to serve my Lord Xander only." She gave a formal bow, not realizing how her diphormism started to fade away as dawn approached.

Camilla laughed heartily. "Oh my, and so serious, too! I do so want her to myself, after all!" She nudged her brother's shoulder, her smile widening. "However, I shall settle with a promise, hm?"

Kamui lifted her confused gaze to the princess, exchanging glances with Xander. He nodded, his expression softening. As the knight opened her mouth to reply, Camilla went on.

"You must come to my next tea party! I will not take a no for an answer, you hear?" She booped Kamui's nose. "Besides, little Beruka will attend, as well; if that makes you feel more relaxed!"

"I... shall respectfully," Kamui once again glanced at her Lord for confirmation, though he simply sustained her gaze, the remaining words leaving her lips without her meaning to, "accept. I accept, Lady Camilla."

"Wonderful!" The princess once again hugged the retainer, but this time was quick about it. "Now, let us move for a more comfortable location, yes? All this blood-letting is terribly tiring, after three days or so." She turned to her brother.

"Indeed." Xander crossed both hands behind his back, tilting his head to the road they had come from hours earlier. "The convoy must be catching up soon -- let us take a well-deserved rest and depart once the sun settles."

#xander #kamui #kamarx #corriander #fire emblem fates #my writings #where your loyalty lies #wyll #richard #camilla #MANAGED TO POST IT BEFORE THE END OF THE YEAR!!!#death tw #blood tw

14 notes · View notes

a-memory-of · 6 years ago

Text

Madoc Parnell had a light smirk playing over his features. He remained facing her, something hidden behind his back. "That time o' year again, luv," he grinned.

Arshtat Ejinn had curled against his side, taking her usual spot next to him by the fire after the bar closed for the night. "Yes... so it is," she laughed, looking down at her lap and fidgeting with her fingers. "I-It's hard to believe it has been two whole winters..."

Madoc gave her a fond nudge, a rumbling hum of agreement following. "Aye, time flies, an' all that. But 'fore we get too sentimental, I've got somethin' for you." His grin was warm, and he pulled out what he was hiding behind his back. It was a thin box about as long as his hand, wrapped in dark red paper--of course.

Arshtat blinked up at him, then down to the package. Her cheeks were warm, and she bit down around a smile, "A-Ah, of course... I've something for you, too." Taking the box eagerly, she set it in her lap a moment before reaching behind her where she had hidden a large red envelope and offered it to him. "S-Should I open first...?"

Madoc quirked a brow at the envelope, instantly curious. He smirked and took it, turning it this way and that, his dark eyes alight. He then nodded. "Aye--you first."

She nodded again, carefully tearing the paper open. The sound drew Khuu from his hiding spot behind the couch, peeking out at the crinkling paper.

Madoc flashed Khuu a grin, but his attention remained on Arshtat. As she opened it, a lovely earthen-brown leather case was slowly revealed. Should she open it, she would find a sheathed knife within. It was not overly ornate, but the hilt was wrapped in purple and red bindings. The sheath was made of leather and had a wave etched along the sides.

Arshtat opened the case after setting the torn paper aside, Khuu instantly looking more interested in it. She quieted once she saw what it was, smiling. "It's... thank you," she finally said, drawing it up and testing it in her hand. The last person to give her a knife had been her brother. She looked up to Madoc, eyes bright, "Thank you so much..." It earned him a kiss to his cheek.

He grinned warmly. "There's somethin' nice 'bout havin' a part of me with you, to protect yourself with." He pondered on this a moment, then hummed. "Blade's made of dragon bone--harder than most metals, an' keeps sharp."

The little xaela settled back against his side, still smiling, "It... means much. Though I rarely have to worry, I know you look after me." She sheathed it back in its case, fingers tracing the leather-carved wave. As she did, a paw snuck up and stole the paper.

Madoc let out a rumbling chuckle as Khuu escaped with his new toy. What a mighty hunter. "'Course, and you with me," he softly replied, "Happy Starlight, luv. Now--" He wiggled the envelope in his hand. "My turn, aye?"

She started to fidget again, ever worried as she was. The knife was beautiful and perfect, and she could only hope her own gift was well-received. "I... had to ask Miss Vienne for some help, I wanted to make sure it w-was correct, since I..." she trailed off, though with most of her gift being written, it was understood what she meant. She did glance off to watch Khuu bat the ball of paper across the room, some tension easing in her.

Inside the sealed envelope were two pieces of parchment. The first was a post for a hunt, describing a great wyvern lingering in Dravania and calling for an exceptionally skilled huntsman. The other, a welcoming invitation to a Tailfeather lodge.

Madoc skimmed through the papers, dark eyes pouring over each word. His brows rose, and an eager grin tugged at his lips. "You know me too well..." He looked to her, and he leaned to wrapped an arm around her shoulders and kiss her forehead. "It's perfect, luv! Really. Been lookin' for a reason to go out an' hunt a big beast--and I've seen few as grand as this."

Arshtat glanced down at the papers, hoping it was all what she had wanted it to be as he read. But as he pulled her close, all the worry faded away and she smiled again. "I m-made sure to ask for um...a big one. They said...most have stopped trying to kill it."

He beamed, setting the papers beside him to give her a full-on warm hug. "Good," his gruff tone grinned. "That means it's all mine."

She moved easily up into his arms, and claiming the familiar spot on his lap. "H-Happy Starlight... thank you, again, for the knife... you are too kind to me," she wrapped her own arms around his middle.

Madoc grew all the more comfortable, cuddling against her. He chuckled faintly. "Nay, you deserve far more kindness, I think--but I'm doin' my best. Meetin' you two years ago has been one o' the best things to happen to me."

Arshtat smiled, feeling his low, rumbling laughter echo against her horn. "I have never been unhappy, not with you... I am forever g-grateful you were in the m-market that day. I love you, very much." Khuu, well-practiced in the art of ruining moods, seemed done with his paper distraction. And he crawled up the back of the couch, attempting to get in on this cuddle. Arshtat could only laugh.

#ff14 #ffxiv #rp #roleplay #rp logs #Arshtat Ejinn #Madoc Parnell #Memories of the River Daughter

6 notes · View notes

roxannarambles · 7 years ago

Text

heath/legault drabble-- rescue

He could see that the three young lords at the head of their group were deeply absorbed in discussion, but he couldn’t quite make out what they were saying. They spoke in hushed tones, which made it obvious they were discussing some kind of plan or strategy. Heath knew better then to eavesdrop, though.

He picked up his marching speed just slightly, drawing a little closer to the trio of nobles. Entirely unintentionally, of course. He just wanted to keep up a brisk pace.

Besides, it wouldn’t really count as eavesdropping if he just happened to overhear something while he was marching. Right?

Hector’s voice carried the most, even when he was trying to be quiet. Heath caught a few snatches of words-- ‘isn’t time’ and ‘smashing skulls,’ it sounded like-- while Eliwood gave soft-spoken, stern replies and Lyndis seemed to be trying to arbitrate the argument between the two men. Just as Heath was starting to make out what Lyndis was saying, all three of the lords paused and glanced about in unison. Their eyes fell upon him.

Heath paused in his steps. Shit. Did they know he was listening? But how . . .

“Heath! C’mere.”

The wyvern rider hastened to obey the request from the surly-looking Hector, shuffling over nervously through the snowdrift to meet the group, falling into step with their march.

“Yes, sir?”

Eliwood smiled at him kindly and spoke before Hector could.

“Heath. We were just discussing what our next move should be regarding the queen’s manse. Considering the urgency of matters, we’d like to send a smaller party ahead of everyone to scout the situation.”

Heath nodded slowly, absorbing the information.

“That sounds wise, m’lord. Would you like me to volunteer?”

Eliwood shook his head, his brow creased in thought.

“Actually, no. The three of us would like to go ahead and try to speak with the queen, if we can. We’re the ones most likely to have our warnings, ah . . .”

“Believed?” Hector supplied. Eliwood frowned and cleared his throat.

“Ah, well, yes. But you see, we’d prefer that the Emblem remain with the main group for now, for safekeeping. We’d possibly just be inviting more trouble if we rushed on ahead with it.”

“I see,” Heath replied, understanding his logic but failing to see why he wished to explain it.

“You want to carry the Fire Emblem for us?” Hector cut in bluntly. Heath balked, looking at him incredulously. He squawked,

“Me?!”

“Yeah.”

Heath stared. Were they mad? Out of the entire army, why him?

“Sir . . . wouldn’t you prefer one of your long-trusted vassals . . .?”

Hector gave him a pained smile, as if he had been expecting that reply.

“I would. Eliwood seems to think that would be too ‘obvious.’”

Eliwood bristled slightly and Lyndis jumped in to explain.

“If the Black Fang are still tracking us, they could try and make an attempt at retrieving their stolen goods. It’s best if we’re discrete about concealing it with someone who we, well . . .”

“Who we normally wouldn’t give it to?” Hector supplied again. Lyndis sighed.

Seemingly at Heath’s expression, Eliwood hastened to add,

“That isn’t to say we don’t trust you, of course, Heath. Quite the contrary. But I hope you see the method to our madness. Would you be comfortable with doing this?”

Heath felt the weight of their collective gazes as they waited for his answer. In all honesty, he wasn’t comfortable, but he wasn’t about to tell them that. He forced out a reply.

“Of course, m’lord. I’d be happy to.”

Eliwood smiled, looking relieved.

“Wonderful. All you need to do is keep it concealed on your person. We ask nothing more.”

Hector clawed at a little gold chain around his neck and pulled out a heavy-looking orange stone from inside his shirt where it had been tucked away. Unceremoniously, he reached over and looped the large chain over Heath’s head, letting the emblem thunk against the man’s chest. Heath stared down at the gem.

“Keep it out of sight. And don’t lose it, yeah?”

Heath glanced up at Hector, who was giving him a crooked grin.

“Yessir.”

Eliwood told him politely,

“We’re off to inform Marcus of our plans, then we’ll be leaving shortly. Thank you, Heath.”

“Of course, sir.”

As the lords passed him by, Lyndis added,

“I suggest sticking to the middle of the group so you won’t be a target. Take care.”

“Yes, m’lady. You too.”

And then they were gone. Heath watched for a few moments as some of the main group marched past him. He blinked, feeling a little dazed.

Okay. This was pretty strange, but it wasn’t so bad. He literally just had to carry the thing. Certainly, it was unexpected, but his task couldn’t be any simpler.

Heath plucked up the emblem in his hands, taking a moment to examine it; it’s not as though he’d ever expected to see his country’s most precious treasure so up-close like this. The smooth, polished gem glowed orange and had internal flecks that diffracted the light in bright red flashes. It was encircled by a delicately-crafted dragon of gold that curled around the gem, biting its own tail. The dragon was so detailed that Heath could make out its individual scales. It was honestly quite a marvel to behold.

Jolting back to his surroundings, Heath stopped gawking and quickly slipped the emblem underneath his shirt, the cool metal sliding down his chest and settling into place against him. Remembering what Lyndis suggested, he moved to march in the middle of the group, his gaze shifting about warily at his comrades. It felt . . . odd, skulking about with a secret like this, but he ignored the feeling and concentrated on the path ahead of them.

The walk felt as though it lasted forever, but in truth, only an hour had probably passed. They still had quite a ways to go in order to escape the Bern mountains. Heath had quickly grown paranoid during the trek and had glanced down his shirt, checking to see if the emblem was still hanging there from its gold chain; of course, it still was. He ended up checking again and again every once in a while, until he realized he was being quite ridiculous. It wasn’t going anywhere. It was fine.

Heath sighed, trying to settle his nerves. Why was he so worried? It really wasn’t like him to be paranoid. It’s just . . . he couldn’t stop thinking about things. The weight of his responsibility felt especially heavy to him. Perhaps it was because of how delicate a situation Bern had ended up in. Once the most powerful and respected country of all the lands, its fate now hung precariously in the balance, all depending on the tiny life of a prince who would hopefully grow up a far wiser ruler than his callous and capricious father. In a way, the situation seemed a lot like the precious gem suspended from its chain; so many hopes and dreams pinned upon something so small. Heath didn’t envy the young man who was to inherent that weight.

The wyvern knight became lost in his thoughts for quite some time, mind wandering to the past, to his experiences in Bern, to all the troubles that had beset him, to all the uncertainty he felt about the future. It was only when he stumbled slightly on a rock hidden in the snow that he glanced up and realized he had started to lag behind the rest of the group. He had better catch up. Patting at his shirt to reassure himself once again that the emblem was still there, he paused before picking up his pace. Frowning, he tugged at the neck of his shirt and peered down.

His heart skipped a beat. He yanked at the gold chain around his neck and pulled it up.

It was empty.

Heath felt a cold wave of panic wash over him, his heart pounding. Wildly, he patted all around at his shirt and tugged the hem from his pants, checking everywhere it could have slipped to. His eyes darted across the ground around him, finding nothing of interest in the vicinity, and he looked further out, his gaze reaching across the vast, white expanses of snow all around him.

It was a neat, white blanket, stretching for miles and miles.

Heath felt all the blood drain from his face as he glanced to Eliwood’s marching group, gradually moving away from him. No, no, no, no . . . how could . . . how could this be happening? How could he do this?

How could he lose the Emblem?

Heath was backtracking his path rapidly, searching through the snow and desperately trying to keep from screaming in raw frustration, when he heard the crunch of approaching footsteps.

He glanced up at the familiar figure of a purple-caped rogue. A wry voice commented casually,

“You drop this?”

The man opened his gloved hand to reveal the gold-encircled gem. Heath’s jaw fell agape, completely overwhelmed at the utter joy flooding him. Heath spluttered forcefully,

“L-legault!”

“I noticed something shiny bounce away from you back there. You should probably--”

Heath grabbed Legault by the cape bunched around his shoulders and yanked him forward, impulsively shoving his lips against Legault’s with enough force that his teeth mashed against him a little. He kissed him passionately for a few short seconds, then let go, babbling breathlessly in his face:

“You’ve saved my life just now.”

Legault, wide-eyed and red-faced, answered dumbly:

“Aaahh hnnggnnn?”

Heath reached to grab the emblem, saw the stunned Legault had dropped it on the ground, and quickly plucked it out of the snow. He turned, intent on rushing to rejoin the group, but stopped when he saw several people ahead of them were gazing back curiously at them.

Very curiously.

Heath felt a blush creeping over his face. Damnit. He probably got a little . . . carried away there.

Heath turned, seeing the thief still had a dumbfounded expression on his face.

“Er, Legault, could you. Could you possibly not mention this whole . . . incident to anyone? I was entrusted with the emblem, and . . .”

Heath trailed off, not really wanting to finish. And I don’t want people to know I fucking lost the thing. Legault mumbled a loopy reply.

“Mmmhmm . . . you do that to me a few more times I’d keep any secret for you.”

Heath grit his teeth, his face growing hot.

“Legault. Please.”

“All right, all right. My lips are sealed. That is, until you don’t want them to be.”

Heath turned quickly and hurried after the main group, trying to ignore the stares he was still getting, the crunch of Legault’s footsteps following close behind him.

#fire emblem #fe7 #heath #legault #heath/legault #heath/legault fic #mystuff #fanfic

52 notes · View notes

burgermiester · 7 years ago

Text

Fire Emblem Warriors Mini-Review

(My thoughts on Fire Emblem Warriors after ~15 hours beat the story mode, played a bit of history mode; still don’t know any Japanese)

I have to say I was not very hopeful about this game going into it. Between a lot of surface level issues and a succession of absolutely abysmal PR from the game’s director, I had a feeling that this was a lazy cash grab for Koei.

Thankfully, pretty much all my expectations have been surpassed. In every way except possibly the visuals (I still don’t LOVE the art direction but it all looks a lot better in person than it did in screenshots and trailers to me) it’s an improvement over Hyrule Warriors. History mode is Adventure mode without being forced to get S rank and grind items to progress; leveling up multiple characters is easier and less grindy since characters you field still level up even when you aren't controlling them directly; the annoying bosses that take forever to kill are gone, and generally speaking draw distance and frame rate is better, though that's to be expected as these things typically get better over time.

Before I go any further with what I liked I have to stop to get into the elephant in the room and the biggest problem with the game: the roster. It’s... bad. I don't say that because it ignores a majority of the series; I say it because (1) it doesn't do a good job of representing the 3 games it tries to represent and (2) it comes with mechanical issues that hurt the game. In the first case, I only really feel like they did a good job with the roster for Awakening. It has the 3 main characters, 2 prominent supporting characters, and a fan favorite, and they have a pretty diverse weapon breakdown. Fates, despite being almost half the roster, has only main characters (except for the notably absent Azura) with a couple of fan-favorites as NPCs only. And I cant help but feel it was a big misstep to not include any hidden weapon users, both because hidden weapons are an iconic new aspect of Fates and because a few of the hidden weapon users are extremely popular. Last, with only 3 characters it only feels like Shadow Dragon has a nod in the same way as Blazing Sword and Gaiden/Echoes. It really doesn't feel like a featured game.

It also really needs to be said: there are too many sword users. When playing story mode I always felt like I had to field one of the 3 pegasus knights (the only lance users in the game) and either Frederick or Lissa (not Camilla since I didnt want to double up on fliers) and then needing my OC sword lord meant it was tough to find a good reason to field any of the mountain of other sword wielding characters, especially since most chapters only let me bring 4 people and that last slot I wanted to use for an archer or tome user. I wish I had more axe and lance users to choose from and fewer sword users to chose from. It makes the decision to make the OC sword users even more confounding. It would have been so much better to have one of them use an axe and the other a lance.

Despite having a lot to say about the roster issues, it actually isn't that critical or game ruining as some people fear. Later on the OCs become effective against the armadillo-lizard-bear...things and the Falchion users are effective against wyverns and dragons, so there becomes a reason to use both an OC and a Falchion user. Even though that doesn't make a niche for Corrin, Ryoma, and Xander (and presumably not Lyn or Celica either, but I haven't unlocked them yet) you still totally can use them and they can get the job done even if they are a tiny bit redundant.

The most important thing about the game is that it plays great. Ordering people around the map and switching between them is fantastic. I talked in a previous post about how I didn't enjoy how the Peg Knights played (except for specials, all 3 have the same moveset) and while they still aren't my favorite, they did grow on me over time. I haven’t really enjoyed playing as Camilla either, but every other character was a blast to play as. This is by far the biggest percentage of playable characters I like playing as in a Warriors game, so I am very pleased about that. On top of just being mechanically fun, the characters all have a ton of personality in their attacks and animations, and this is from someone who couldn't read or understand any of their words, the characters were all just amazingly fun to watch in action. The only character I am iffy on is Xander in this regard. He’s one of the more serious characters on the roster yet I kept laughing out loud at how ridiculous his magical flipping and spinning horse looked in most of his combos and his pair-up special; i just don’t think it was a good fit for his character, as fun as it is to look at.

I’m gonna end this off on questions/concerns/hopes for the English version. I feel like I have a pretty accurate understanding of the game from the Japanese version but there are a few things I wonder about. First, I really wasn't able to sink my teeth into the upgrade or weapon system. Fortunately, it looks exactly like what they both were in Hyrule Warriors and it was a perfectly fine system there, so I expect it will be fine here. Second, I have avoided all the English trailers for the game but I hear most of the characters from Awakening and Fates have been recast, with plenty of people saying they are pretty bad. That’s kind of a bummer, I especially don’t know If I can get used to anyone other than Laura Bailey as Lucina. So I hope I get used to all the new voices. I also hope there's a way to turn off critical cut-in quotes. I liked them at first but they take just a bit too long and hearing the same thing over and over is just a little bit annoying when you use specials as often as you do. Also, I hear that there's a lot of surprisingly great support conversations in the game. I was expecting mostly silly fluff but people are saying there's some great ones, so I am feeling pretty hopeful. Last, and this isn't really about the English version, but I really hope that Niles, Oboro, Owain, and Navarre are made playable as free DLC and aren't a part of the paid packs, both because it means more characters total and because I think it would be kind of a dick move on Koei’s part to put fan-favorite characters in the game but charging extra to play as them.

I still want to play the game in English before I say this for certain, but I really do think this game is set to be one of the best Warriors games as well as my personal favorite of the series. If you love Awakening and Fates and are at least neutral about Warriors, I am sure you are already pumped for this game; but even if you are a FE fan who doesn't love Fateswakening then as long as you don't hate them (and don't hate Warriors, of course) I really think you will be pleasantly surprised by this game.

#fire emblem #fire emblem warriors #long post #warriors #review

43 notes · View notes

bound-by-golden-wings · 7 years ago

Text

Ornstein Thoughts + Headcanons

Warning, extremely long post ahead!

So, I’ve been having many people come to me asking me about why I view certain things the way I do. I’ve even had people multiple times point out to me that some of my headcanons aren’t canon... Even when practically none of the things the fandom has come up with is canon. Ornstein is a rather empty-husk of a character so to say and there really isn’t much to him. So in the end a lot of him will be left up to the viewers interpretation. Just keep in mind, that just like with a lot of characters, this is my own speculations and headcanons and it’s totally fine if you do not agree with me. Just don’t bash me about it. I know my headcanons are extremely different from what a lot of people feel to be canon, but this is just the way I view things. Know that before creating this blog and while writing Ornstein, I practically read everything that was available about him, read other people’s headcanons and lore videos and that way came up with what felt right for me, so let’s just get to it. For the sake of being better at reading through it, I’m going to put everything in different chapters, then it will all be easier to find because it’s sorted.

Surely there are other headcanons that I like and I might even erase some through times or just edit/change entirely.

With all of that being said! Enjoy! :)

Start Of Life:

Ornstein was born about 200-100 years before the events of Dark Souls 1 took place. Back then, most dragons were practically still alive, but some kind of war had already broken out between the Gods and Dragons itself. it wasn’t too apparent back then, except for the occasional news going around the land that several dragons had been killed by the Gods and Goddesses. His father was the fearsome dragon Kalameet. I believe that all Dragons, Wyverns and Drakes were pretty much just as smart as any human and could properly think for themselves, which would explain why Seath was capable of doing so much himself. Kalameet was no exception. Kalameet fell in love with a human and through magic the two were capable of producing an offspring of their own, this being Ornstein (first name being Glaurung, because back at this point, he didn’t go under the name Ornstein yet). It’s almost similar to how Gods in old mythologies would have hybrids/animals/crossbreeds/non-human/god beings for kids and dated similar creatures. Back then it wasn’t as much of a sin as it became in later life, which is why most of the Crossbreeds were banished or born in Painted Worlds, because it was practically the only place for them.

Ornstein was a Crossbreed but unlike Priscilla and Yorshka, he resembled a dragon far more, practically looking like the Drakes your character becomes after using all the Dragon Stones. Several reasons as to why I headcanon Ornstein like this, but a few of them are: I like the idea that Ornstein technically in a way betrayed his own kind just because he wanted to proof to people that he was capable of doing greater things, I just can’t imagine him to be human with an armour set like that.

Kalameet disappeared not long after Ornstein was born duo to the war between dragons and Devines becoming far worse than before. He did this to protect his family from possible harm and Ornstein was left alone with his mother.

Growing Up:

Ornstein grew up rather happily for most part except for the fact that he always felt a little bit disconnected because of his dragon-like appearance, this actually made him somewhat despise his own looks and wish to become a human. Of course this never happened. At first people still respected him because his mother was a doctor and thus deeply respected by the town itself. He had friends, but as the years began to pass and the war against the dragons became worse more people began to abandon Ornstein until only very few people still respected him the way he was. Duo to this he tried to chop his own tail off, but luckily his mother ran in just in time to stop him, stop the bleeding and stitch it all back together.

He usually helped his mother around the house with patients, cleaning up, getting supplies, baking and all those kinds of stuff. Until one day the rumor started to go around town that the some of Gwyn’s army was coming to take Ornstein away. Gwyn despised dragons and wanted to have nothing to do with them or any kind that even resembled them, there were only very few who he gave a chance like Seath and Midir for example. Thus eventually once the Knights reached their town Ornstein and his mother hid away in the basement but were sadly caught during the end of their search. Ornstein’s mother was killed during the process and he himself was taken away from the town, then kept prison inside the Painted World of Ariamis.

The Painted World of Ariamis & First Encounter with The Sun’s Firstborn:

Ornstein time growing up in the Painted World wasn’t too pleasant, he was only 12 years old at this point and had to do a lot to actually manage to survive on his own. He grew kind of feral and kept his distance with most of the other citizen of the Painted World as there really wasn’t a lot that he could do about it. He practically had to fight for his food and make sure that the plants that he did try to grow actually got a chance at life.

It was around the age of 20 that he first encountered the Nameless King, aka the Sun’s Firstborn. Back then the first reaction Ornstein had to him was to fight him, feeling like he was an intruder, ready to steal something from him or even finish him off, but after a long battle in which Ornstein lost, it became clear that the man had no meaning of killing him. He even offered him some kind of food. Apparently he was exploring the world for his own personal reasons and asked Ornstein if he could show him around to which he reluctantly agreed. He stayed in the world for at least one day and seeing Ornstein’s potential and being in the need of more Knights agreed to train him.

Ornstein who had lived for most of his life in the Painted World and felt like he deserved something better agreed on this and The Nameless King took him back to his own world where he at first hid him away until his armour was finished. It took about one week to make the armour, made by one of the best smiths in all of Anor Londo and even if he was confused at first as to why armour like this was needed he agreed on taking the job (this was Lord Gwyn’s son asking for help after all). The armour was made from pure gold, infused with materials that protected against all kinds of lightning. Big enough to fit in Ornstein’s tail and any kind of other body parts he needed to hide, like his spikes for example.

At first he didn’t get the spear, this was only later in life after Nameless King had trained him for a while. After about a year he was allowed to pick his very own weapon and he knew exactly what he was going for even going as far to draw something out (which had always been one of his hobbies). The weapon itself was made from a Dragon’s stone scales and infused with lightning gems to make it possible to cast lightning, magic on its opponents. This is when the real deal started.

First Knight of Gwyn & The Four Knights:

As time began to pass, Lord Gwyn began to see all that Ornstein was up to and after a while he eventually became his first and most trusted Knight. But before that happened Ornstein tried to proof himself to Gwyn by killing one of many Dragons to come. Not only because Gwyn wanted to be sure that he would be up to the task, but also to keep the land safe from harm and to stop the growing suspicion if him being an Outlander that would someday betray them.

Once he had killed this very first dragon, several more followed as time came, even when he didn’t always agree with the ones he had to kill. Not all Dragons were bad after all, but it was a task that had to be done even if some of it makes him feel extremely guilty to this day. But he was extremely proud of the actual evil dragons that he did kill, hanging them on a certain wall like trophies. Lord Gwyn suggested to hang all of them on there several times, but he declined the offer most of the time.

Duo to this Lord Gwyn began to slowly trust the Knight and made him Captain of several of his Knights together with his eldest son Nameless King. Ornstein was filled with pride at this point, happy with what he had accomplished and although as a Drake you already grow older than most people Lord Gwyn made him a Devine, so he practically became immortal (even if he would still be weak to things like illness, wounds, murder, stabbing, etc).

Ornstein became one of the most well known Knights across the land and was dubbed Dragonslayer duo to the amount of dragons he was able to kill so easily. Even when one was still flying around he knew how to take them down midair. As years passed by, eventually Knights like Artorias, Gough and Ciaran began to join the Knights, slowly climbing the ladders and gaining Lord Gwyn’s trust. Although they were trained by other people Ornstein became their leader and he usually was the person they’d come to for advice as well. And although he wasn’t as close to the Knights as he was to the Nameless King they all got a very special spot in his heart and wanted to make sure that they’d survive any battle to come.

Executioner Smough

Smough was relatively late with joining the army and only knew most of the other Knights for a relatively short time (compared to an immortal life that is). Ornstein met him on pure accident, one day when he was trying to fight a group of dragons attacking a nearby village of giants. Smough back then was a butcher and showed a lot of signs of being a good fighter, making Ornstein wonder if he had been trained or thought it himself. They fought side-by-side while protecting the town and actually made a very decent team together. Ornstein suggested training him afterwards and Smough’s reply came almost immediately, that day a team was born.

He began to train Smough as his pupil and although he was somewhat impatient at times showed great interests in becoming a Knight. And not long after finishing his training got his very own armour and weapon. Even if Ornstein was extremely skeptical about the size of his hammer at first. At first Lord Gwyn was even thinking about making Smough a fifth Knight, but Smough’s dream was soon crushed when he began to show signs of actually enjoying slaying his victims. Unlike Ornstein he was extremely merciless when it came to sparing someone and would most of the time not even give them a second glance, practically killing them on the spot. What only made things worse was the fact that he actually began to enjoy eating his victims, getting both the titles Executioner and Cannibal. At this point Ornstein was the only one who actually still enjoyed Smough’s presence because he knew Smough also had his good sides even when he didn’t fully agree with everything he did. He still felt like he made a great addition to their Knights to which Gwyn heavily disagreed.

Once this news came to Smough this put a huge strain on his and Ornstein’s friendship and for a while to two kind of had their backs turned towards one another. He had worked so hard to get to this point, just to be rejected and he despises it, growing rather jealous of the people around him. But duo to Ornstein’s support he still stayed, hoping that one day Lord Gwyn would change his mind and he could join his Knights.

The Fall of the Kingdom

War went on for years without an end in sight and eventually The Nameless King went away to ally with the Dragons, he had his very own reasons for this, ones which he never shared. Ornstein felt both deeply sad and betrayed for what happened and for a while felt pretty down for losing his first actual friend. And it didn’t take long before he began to make decisions that he deeply regretted, Artorias left for the Abyss and not long after Lord Gwyn left for the First Flame and never returned, leaving most of the Kingdom in the hands of his remaining Knights and younger child Gwyndolin. Gwyndolin began to rule behind scenes for most part, casting illusions around Anor Londo to keep the remaining people happy.

As time passed eventually Ciaran and Gough left as well, leaving Ornstein and Smough alone to guard Anor Londo with a few other Knights around. One the new came that Artorias had died and later Ciaran as well Ornstein became devastated once more, but forced himself to move on, guarding the city.

However as time passed he began to wander around the Kingdom more, making sure to protect whoever needed it as well with the whole Undead Curse becoming worse as the years passed. This left Smough to guard the cities alone for some time as well. This is when Dark Souls 1 starts to take place.

Boss Fight & Aftermath

Ornstein does come back around Anor Londo at times, to make sure that everything is still going alright. Even if he fully trusted Smough with the city, sometimes unexpected things could come their way and once the Legend of a certain Chosen Undead started to become true he went back to his usual position.

Ornstein and Smough in Anor Londo are not illusions. Especially a Dragonslayer like Ornstein wouldn’t run away from a fight like this, especially not to fight for the people he cares about. Besides, if you kill either of them, they still drop a soul. I can go on like this for a while and while them being illusions can make sense in a way, there are also plenty of reasons why it wouldn’t make sense. To me the intended way would be to ‘kill’ Ornstein first. Smough absorbs all of his powers, but doesn’t kill him in this process. And while Smough dies fighting during this fight, Ornstein barely makes it out alive.

And when I say barely, I mean barely. He would have died if it hadn’t been for Gwyndolin taking care of him afterwards. Smough’s death deeply affected him and the thought that he had lost all of his other Knights at this point finally drove him to the idea to search for the Nameless King. One of his last remaining friends, he needed him back for the Kingdom. And although he was extremely angry with the fact that he had ran off, he also deeply wanted to find and see him again, just to bring him back and possibly give the Kingdom some more hope.

Archdragon Peak & Dragonslayer Armour

For this last chapter there are two ways I go. One is more of a headcanon while the other is probably more related to canon guidelines.

After traveling for possibly years and searching every corner, his powers becoming weaker and his armour starting to become dull and old he eventually reached Archdragon Peak. He didn’t get a lot of information during his journey but the ones he did hear told a legend about Archdragon Peak and ringing a bell. Once he finally arrived this was exactly what he did... And he waited and waited, possibly even for years.

No one ever came and he fully lost all of his hope at this point, leaving behind his own lion armour and taking on another one that he found across Archdragon Peak, along with two new weapons. This was duo to the fact that that the armour and his spear only reminded him of all the people who he had failed, of the ones who had died and the Master that had left him without saying a word.

At this point he had practically lost his identity and he had no longer an actual purpose in life. He eventually ended up at Lothric Castle where it became extremely easy for the Pilgrim Butterflies to possess him. And as time passed, less of Ornstein was left, slowly his body began to rot away, until the only thing that was left of him was a Lingering Spirit.

The other version which is more canon to the storyline is that Ornstein eventually manages to find the Nameless King, duo to this he can finally make peace with his life and the things he went through. They spend a good couple of months together before Ornstein peacefully passed away one day, possibly duo to what all the stress had done to his body. Why is there no body where his armour is at? Either because Ornstein fully rotted away when he died, because the game shows no corpse or because someone tried running off with Ornstein’s armour but never got away with it.

#ooc #headcanons #((PFFFFFFT THIS TOOK WAY TOO LONG TO WRITE))#Ornstein #Dragonslayer Ornstein #long post

12 notes · View notes

dylanyonah · 7 years ago

Text

United Differences, Chapter 2

I hope you all enjoy this. It’s the second chapter of my novel, which I hope to find an agent for by June of this year. If you have any questions about it, feel free to talk to me, I’d love to hear from you :) .

Hm.... For some reasons the bits that should be italicized aren’t so here.... And me being so technologically stupid don’t know how to fix it. So, anything that has { } around it were italicized thoughts originally, so you know.

And the art piece here is done by https://brassdragon.deviantart.com/ , a lovely artist :) .

Dyfri woke slowly, his chest still sore as he took the smallest of breaths. As his eyes fluttered open, he pulled up his dirt and mud covered tunic to find a purple blotch on his chest. He carefully trailed his fingers over it, only to yank them back from the pain.

{Bollocks. Those bulls did a number on me.}

The minotaurs. The memory of them made him jolt up into a sitting position, wide eyed as he expected them to rush him any second. The sudden movement jolted his chest as he clutched his wounded torso. He tried to ignore it as he stood up, expecting a minotaur to knock him back down at any second.

Instead, he saw nothing but the stone walls and the tiny streams of water that trickled down to the mossy cave floor. He squinted as he looked back into the depths of the cave, but even with the sun shining through the cave’s opening he could see no end. He would've breathed a sigh of relief at his luck if it weren't for his aching ribs.

{Lucky me. Wonder why those cows didn't look here.}

He looked to the mouth of the cave as the warmth of the sun hit his face. Dyfri thought back to his flight from the bull’s foul clutches, wondering how he lived through the night. Minotaurs had an impeccable sense of smell and should have picked up his scent at some point.

Yet at that point, such things didn't matter. He could worry after he found a safer, more comfortable place. Struggling to his feet, he made his way towards the cave entrance.

“Leaving so soon? Not even a goodbye, or thank you? That's bad manners.”

Dyfri nearly fell over as he whipped back around to look at the back of the cave. He couldn't see a thing, yet from the slightly higher pitched voice he knew it was female. The way she spoke, how her voice seemingly exuded strength, sent a chill up his spine. As much as he wanted to run out of the cave, the curious side of him begged him to stay, to find out who it was.

“Who are--” Dyfri caught himself. His voice wavered as he fought to keep himself composed. He swallowed, and tried again. “Who are you?”

For a moment there was nothing. Suddenly the disturbing quiet was broken by a loud, great stomping against the cave floor, growing louder with every step. Something scratched against the rocks, the sound filling Dyfri's mind with images of a great blade being dragged along the stones. It was accompanied by a strange sliding sound that reminded him of Bangfae rubbing her scales against the floors of his castle.

{A lamia. It has to be. Some really big, strange lamia. Right. That makes sense.}

Two rings of blood red pierced the black veil separating Dyfri and whatever laid at the back of the cave. Within the circles were two thin, vertical pupils staring straight at him. It reminded him of the terrible, great water lizards that lived in the rivers. He only wished the beast before him was as small as them.

Dyfri's legs locked in place as the strange, piercing eyes came closer. He had to run. He knew it. He had to run far, far away and get help. Hye and her soldiers, or villagers, just something that could kill the beast. Dyfri could only stand there like a terrified lamb before a rabid wolf.

As she moved into the light, the first he saw was the black, scale covered mouth, large enough to swallow him in one gulp. It was narrow and straight, with two nostrils on the tip, like the water dwelling lizards. Sitting shortly behind the mouth were the eyes, staring straight at him. Just past the eyes were two horns jutting back at an angle, four feet long and sharp as spears. The neck, long and snake like followed.

Then the wings revealed themselves. They were great and large, with membranes like a bat. She walked with them as if they were legs, three of the six clawed digits acting like toes with no membrane between them. As her body was revealed in the light it showed a more slender, sleek form than he expected, built more for speed than strength. Her back legs were the exception, strong enough he imagined them ripping trees from their roots with ease.

The tail was last, and was twice as long as the rest of her body. It was long and slender like a strange, living whip, ready to crush him like a python strangling its prey.

“It's not nice to stare at a lady, my little friend,” the wyvern said with a grin, her razor sharp teeth revealed with every movement of her lips.

“Impossible. Impossible… it... you can't... how is this possible?”

The wyvern chuckled. One look at her teeth made Dyfri shiver. With teeth like that she could rip off his arm just like so many dragons did a century ago, during The Great Scourge. The war that killed off every dragon alive.

Or so he thought.

He turned on his heel and ran even as his ribs ached and burned. Dyfri fought through it as best he could. He had to tell someone, had to spread the word. Everyone had to know. He couldn't let the discovery die with him.

“Hold on, I didn't say you could go!”

Dyfri barely stepped foot outside the cave when the wyvern's tail coiled around his waist. Landing on the ground, he grabbed at anything he could only to grab fistfuls of mud. He pounded against the tail with his fists, expecting to be squeezed to a pulp in seconds as his heart raced and his veins ran cold with fear.

“Let me go!” Dyfri screamed as he was pulled up to a mere foot away from the wyvern's snout, and those teeth. Those deadly, terrible teeth.

“Will you please calm down? You're just going to hurt yourself.”

{Does she take me for a fool?! Dragons have only one thing on their minds!}

“Why?! You'll get no easy breakfast out of me!” Dyfri threw the mud in his hands, striking the wyvern just above the eye. She froze, her eyes suddenly as wide as wagon wheels as Dyfri slipped out of her suddenly loosened tail.

He fell on his back with a thud, drawing a sharp breath as his chest was wracked with pain from the fall. Holding his chest he looked up as he took staggered breaths, expecting to see her claws bearing down on him. She simply stared at him, her tail gently wiping the mud away from her face. Her tail moved so delicately it reminded him of watching his sister Meinir, applying her makeup.

“You... You threw mud at me!” Her head dove down, stopping so close Dyfri's hair blew back as her hot breath washed over him. Her red eyes glared down into his blue ones. “That's the thanks I get for saving your life?!”

“You expect me to believe you saved my life?” Dyfri had to fight to speak without devolving into a stuttering, quivering mess. Every time those lips moved Dyfri expected her to slurp him up.

“Who else scared off the minotaurs? You think they were terrified of a little bruised thing like you?” She glared at him a moment more before she pulled back. She sighed and laid on the ground near him. Her tail curled around, brushing against his boots for a moment before she placed it beneath her head, like Dyfri would with a pillow. “A short and simple, 'thank you Ajagara', would be nice.”

“Ajagara? What kind of name is that?” Dyfri bit his lip as that slipped out, his heart leaping in fright at possibly angering her even more. Dyfri crawled back, keeping a comfortable distance between him and her.

“It's my name, and a good one, thank you very much,” Ajagara declared, smiling with so much pride Dyfri pondered if she thought herself to be royalty. “And now you know it. What's yours?”

“You expect me to believe you just want to know my name?” Dyfri spat out the words. Did she really think he was so gullible? Weren't dragons supposed to be smart?

“I'd expect you to have basic manners. You don't even have that?”

Dyfri clenched his jaw at the thought of giving her what she wanted. It didn't sit right with him, having to acquiesce to a stranger’s demands. Nonetheless, it wouldn't exactly be wise to deny her. He knew better than to give his family name; he'd never dare tell a dragon that. But perhaps his first name alone would satisfy her.

“My name's Dyfri.”

“Dyfri? What kind of northerner would have a name like that?” Ajagara cocked her head to the side. It reminded Dyfri of the way his cat looked at him whenever she grew confused. Or annoyed. “Only humans from the Western Lowlands have such names.”

“I'm not from the Northern Coast. I was born and raised in the Western Lowlands.” Dyfri reached up and absentmindedly tugged on his long brown hair. “Even if I don't look like it.”

“Oh. You must've stood out. Brown hair, darker skin, but blue eyes. Ah, you have northern and western blood!” Ajagara beamed with joy at having correctly guessed the truth. “Curious. The two don't often mix together.”

“Sometimes they do.” Dyfri shuffled his feet as he looked back at the entrance. He tried to think of a way to distract Ajagara so he could get out of there. “But if you dare call me a mutt I'll make you regret it, dragon or not,” Dyfri said as his fists clenched, waiting for the inevitable taunting and name calling that always followed.

“What? I'd criticize your manners and scent but what does your lineage have to do with anything?”

Dyfri thought he was dreaming for a moment. He had heard peasants spew that insult when he was a child, and if they could get away with it even when he grew to manhood. Even his father's banner men, though they'd be kind in public, would whisper it under their breath as he walked passed. Even his sister took part. Yet a dragon was the first to refuse such an insult?

“I have some more questions. If you don't mind, of course,” Ajagara said. Her tail continued to move about. He kept thinking of how it moved so similar to Bangfae. If Ajagara was half as strong as his friend, she could suffocate him easily.

“I don't have much choice,” Dyfri muttered under his breath.

“First question. Your boots. They seem well made.” She poked and prodded them with her tail until Dyfri kicked it away. Her eyes narrowed as she continued to inspect them. “Fine leather and stitching. They must've been expensive. How did you get them?”

}My boots? That's what she wants to talk about? Is she going to ask who styles my hair next?}

“My father gave them to me,” Dyfri said as he scooted away until his back hit the cave wall. Did dragons not know about personal space?

“I see, I see. Did he also give you that tunic?” Ajagara leaned in closer, hovering over him. He almost shook as she stared. Was she trying to figure out the best way to swallow him? “I may be a dragon, but I know good craftsmanship when I see it.”

Dyfri glanced down at his clothes. He normally paid them little heed, but the tunic was tailored specifically for him with the finest cotton from the south. He could've done without the dirt and mud defiling it. Yet why would a dragon care for clothing, or know anything about it?

“Aye, he did. What of it?” Dyfri tried to shove Ajagara away, pushing against her snout. As hard as he shoved against her, she didn't budge. He could've sworn he heard her chuckle, like a parent amused by a toddler. He abandoned his efforts and motioned to her and himself. “Some personal space might be nice.”

Ajagara backed off a few feet but still kept her eyes on him. A strange hum emanated from her throat. Her eyes narrowed as Dyfri could see her mind working, analyzing him.

“Can't imagine how difficult it was. Nice boots, a well crafted tunic. Must have been expensive.” Her nostrils flared, breathing in loudly as she kept her eyes locked on him. He brought his hand to his face and took a whiff. Did he really smell that bad? “Hm. You don't smell as wretched as I thought you would. Most humans I've been around smell terrible.”

“What sort of questions are these?” Dyfri asked. “Asking about my clothes? Talking about my scent? I don't know if anyone had asked such ridiculous questions since Santajo, the poet's audience with the king a century ago.”

Couldn't her questions at least have made a bit of sense? Was that really so much to ask? She didn't even bother to answer his own, instead just tapping her claws on the ground. Within a few seconds she stopped, and Dyfri once again heard that strange chuckle.

“So are you going to tell me what noble family you're from, or do I have to trick you into telling me that too?”

“What?!” Dyfri clambered away from her and closer to the cave entrance as quick as he could in his state. He raced to think of a way out of there, thinking of any place he could hide in the forest as he tried to imagine what gave him away.

{How could she know that? I don't have a ring, my armor, anything. All I've given her is my first name!}

“Oh come now, little one. You have fine clothing, you know history, you don't stink and though you're covered in dirt and mud, you're well groomed. Could you say that about any peasants?” Ajagara said, her voice dripping with enough smug satisfaction Dyfri feared he'd drown in it.

He stuttered and stammered as he tried and failed to refute her. He wanted to slap himself upside the head for that. If his father learned how easily Ajagara duped him, he would've been furious. The thought of that made him shiver even more than Ajagara did.

“Now, care to tell me your family name? Or are you going to lie and say you don't have one?”

He looked to the entrance to the cave. No matter how much adrenaline he had coursing through him he'd never outrun a dragon. She'd bite him so fast he'd never know what hit him. Or swallow him whole. Or roast him alive then and there.

Dyfri stood up and stared Ajagara straight in the eye. He wiped away what dirt he could from his tunic, and brushed his hair back behind his ears. He swallowed, and gazed into what could be the last eyes he'd ever see, and spoke with pride through his pained ribs, as he forced his quivering legs to go still.

“I am Dyfri, son of Cryfdar of House Glyn, the Lords of the Western Lowlands,” Dyfri said, his fists clenched as he prepared himself. If he was to die, he'd go with pride.

Ajagara's tail went limp against the ground. She darted forward only to stop inches from his face. Dyfri's heart started beating, loud as a drum. His hands shook against his sides as he waited for her to open her maw and swallow him whole, or for her to roast him like a freshly caught boar.

“Glyn? Like Aerona Glyn? The leader of the Western Lowlands and their armies? That's what you mean?” Ajagara asked.

Dyfri nodded. He never took his eyes away from her mouth. Why did she delay? She must have been getting some sick pleasure out of this, like a pup playing with a piece of meat.

“She's one of the greatest warriors I've ever seen.”

Dyfri thought he was dreaming. He glanced at his arms, expecting to see wings, scales, even a tail growing out of them instead of hands and fingers. That would've made more sense than what he just heard.

“That's it? No flames, no biting, no gnawing?”

“No but I could give you a nibble if you'd like,” she said as she flashed him a short grin again.

“You're... Not what I expected,” Dyfri said, his words coming out as little more than whispers. To hear a dragon speak so kindly about a dragon slayer was as shocking as a snowstorm in summer.

“In case you're hard of hearing you should be able to tell I'm a bit different than most dragons. Maybe if I get to meet Aerona I can convince her of that too.”

Relieved as he was to be standing instead of sliding down Ajagara's throat, the way Ajagara spoke gave him pause. Meet Aerona? Was she stupid? Or did she think humans were as long lived as dragons?

“Aerona's been dead over forty years. I'm her great grandson,” Dyfri said softly. “The Great Scourge ended near a century ago.”

Ajagara's grin vanished faster than fire in a rainstorm. She looked at the ground, her eyes darting back and forth, yet focusing on nothing. She tried to speak, her lips moving but not making a sound. Slowly, she looked back to him, and any joy she had had departed like a thief in the night.

“A century? I've been asleep that long?” Ajagara whispered.

Her voice changed. It wasn't the same smugness Dyfri had heard from her since she had first spoken. To see such a creature change so suddenly didn't fit right with him. If he didn't know better, he would've sworn she sounded sad.

“How many more dragons have you seen? After the war, what happened to my people?” Ajagara came closer like before, her snout almost touching his chest. Her eyes were wide, and he could see the muscles in her jaw clenched tightly.

“After the Great Scourge we thought you were extinct. All I knew of dragons were stories from my grandparents and books,” Dyfri scrambled to say.

“That would mean.... No. No, I won't believe it. If I was able to hide, then so did the others.” Ajagara breathed in deeply again and again, calming herself. She looked at him once more, sporting a hopeful smile. “Are you sure you haven't seen more of my kind? Even a hatchling? An egg?”

“No. You're the only one.”

Her wings slammed against the ground with such force the earth shook. Dyfri barely managed to stay afoot as he struggled to keep his balance. Ajagara gasped and shot her tail forward, grabbing his side. He raised his fists, ready to fight his way out if she tried anything. Yet as soon as he regained his balance she pulled away from him.

“Sorry about that.” She changed demeanor swiftly, suddenly smiling. “I've got a deal for you. Let me talk to you for a while. Tell me what I've missed while I've slept. Then you can go. How does that sound?” Ajagara asked as she once again laid upon the cave floor. “Don't worry, I promise you I won't hurt you.”

“How can I know you'll keep your word? Dragons don't exactly have a good reputation,” Dyfri said, muttering the last bit under his breath.

“Some dragons would say the same about your kind after trying to kill us,” Ajagara said with a hiss. “But if I wanted you dead, I wouldn't have bothered to save you.”

Dyfri rubbed his brow and sighed. It wasn't as if he had much choice, and though he didn’t fully trust her she did have a point. He stood up and paced a moment before he leaned against the cave wall as he glanced at the sunlit entrance, his ticket to freedom, and then back to Ajagara. “What do you want to know?”

Hours passed as Ajagara peppered Dyfri with questions. They spoke about the state of the kingdom, from the Southern Lamias being practically independent from their Northern kin, minotaur attacks on human traders, to Princess Jeong-hi of the Northern Lamias paying nothing more than lip service to the human king. After a while he began to tap his foot as his patience grew thin.

“I must know. Does...what's their name again? Brasak, is it? Are the current lords of House Brasak as rotund as they were in Aerona's time?” Ajagara asked. By that point she had resumed resting her head on her tail.

“Still fat as ever? Aye. Yet so long as they're loyal they can be as fat as they wish.” Dyfri looked back out of the cave. By then the sky had been painted red by the setting sun. He guessed within an hour the forest would be blanketed in darkness. “Have I indulged you enough?”

“Not exactly a patient one, are you?” Ajagara said as she poked her head out of the cave, looking up to the treetops. “But yes. We can go.”

“We? No. You're not coming with me.”

As helpful as a dragon could be, he needed to move quietly. If he was to get to Hye's keep and get the word out, he couldn't exactly have Ajagara follow him. With her stomping around, he might as well have carried a bonfire behind him, he'd be spotted so quickly. Besides, how could anyone be truly trusted after holding another against their will for hours?

“Don't be stupid. You won't last long on your own” Ajagara claimed.

“I'll be fine. Do you smell any minotaurs nearby?” Dyfri asked as he looked out at the forest. Ajagara shook her head. “See? I'll be fine on my own.” He stepped out of the cave and looked up the out into the trees ahead.

“What about me?” Ajagara's head snaked around in front of him so swiftly Dyfri nearly walked into it as she stepped outside. “You expect me to stay in this cave alone?”

“I don't know what to expect of you.” Dyfri looked out into the sky. If he told her to stay put, she'd fly off. And if she was to fly, it might as well had been somewhere he'd know about. “Go Northwest, off of the mainland. There are uninhabited islands with plenty of fish. You should be safe there.”

“Oh? You're actually concerned with my safety?” Ajagara asked with a smile. She chuckled again, making Dyfri step back as he caught sight of those dagger like teeth once more. “I'm touched.”

“I care about my safety and the people’s. What's best for you and us happen to coincide.”

Her smile disappeared as fast as it came. Dyfri barely caught her mouth drooping into a frown before she turned away, her tail nearly knocking his legs out from underneath him as she went back to the cave. She stopped and looked at him one last time, speaking quietly.

“Aerona would be disappointed with you.”

“What would you know of her?” Dyfri said.

He stepped closer to the cave, his fists clenched. She dared to lecture him on what Aerona would want? Not even those who called him mutt dared to assume what she'd think. He hoped she'd try to explain herself, giving him a chance to lecture her, but she simply slinked further into the darkness, out of his sight.

{She doesn't know what she's talking about. Why did I bother to entertain her at all?}

Dyfri shook his head, groaning a moment before he looked into the forest. There were more important matters than a momentary annoyance like her. Biting his lip to keep himself from groaning as every step pained his ribs, he went off into the forest.

#united differences #book #dragon #ajagara #dyfri #chapter 2 #fantasy #medieval #novel #writeblr #wyvern #creature #dragoness #art

2 notes · View notes

friendlyunclej · 7 years ago

Text

No Ocean for Old Men

Prologue

Having been out on the Solemn Ocean, or “Solemn Sea” whatever you want to call it, for the past few months making ferry runs and pillaging any poor dinghy that sailed too close to my boat, I’ve decided to take the next few weeks to anchor down at the docks of Tyriok City. My crew are all licking their wounds after we’ve barely skated by one of those airships from the Truncheon Order. They’ve been patrolling the skies ever since the war ended and all they do is ruin my business, or at least try to. My entire crew keeps bitching and cussing at me to find some replacements for the hands we lost. After the third day of them doing this, I began freezing them in ice with my breath whenever they bothered me. We lost a few more by the fifth day. By the sixth day, I decided that maybe I should try to recruit some fresh meat. Donning the flag of my ship and my tattered tricorne, I decided to sit at an empty booth by myself and told the barkeep to send anyone who seemed strong enough to me. By the end of the day, I had about three more desperate souls working for me, none of them really asking any questions. It wasn’t until halfway through the following day that I got two who actually seemed worth something more than just the average swill and shilling.

The woman of the two, at least I’m pretty sure it was a woman, questioned me the most about who I am. Alternatively, the man she was travelling with, who was practically the size of a damn tree, cared more about life on the open waters. Both of them were trying to speak over each other, so I told them to shut up as I spoke about myself.

“I’ve been the captain of this ship since before the Great War and I’ll stop you before you ask the obvious question. To put your mind at ease, I’ll tell you all the answers you want in the usual order I have to answer them:

One: Yes, I’m a Dragonborn with white scales, so if I drink too much and freeze you with a sneeze, tough shit.

Two: I’m over 140 years old.

Three: I know I look damn good for that age, especially since most of my kind would be eaten by worms or dissolving in seawater by now.

Four: Of course, it’s not natural! I’m not some damn tree-hugging Druid and I don’t spew any fanciful magic from my fingers like some cloaked asshole who can’t handle a real fight.

Five: Uh...you know, by this time, either I’ve punched the person asking me all this or they’ve punched me, so I don’t really have an answer for that.

However, since you haven’t punched me and I’m not feeling too punchy today, I feel inclined to share with you two how I got to be such an age. It’s real simple actually. Just relax and don’t worry about the little things.”

I paused as I chugged a shot of Rot Gut and the woman said, “Are you serious?”

Finishing the shot, I shouted, “Of course, I’m not serious! I got hexed by some damn hag during the war. She wasn’t too happy with me doing my job.”

The man, seeming like a talking mountain, said, “What job were you doing that pissed her off?”

I snarled at him, “That’s my business and it’s old business at that! I’m not doing it anymore so what the hell does it matter?”

Steam seeming to spew from his nose in the now freezing tavern, I glared into his eyes as the woman said, “If we’re going to be part of your crew, shouldn’t we know what you’ve done?”

Still glaring at the man as he sat back from me, I leaned towards her as I said, “Who said that you two would be joining my crew? This is a tryout right now, and, from where I’m sitting, you two are barely worth a cabin boy, and that’s being generous.”

A look of spite washed across her eyes as I sat back and took in the view of both of them. A mountain of a man who looks like he could toss a Dwarf a mile away and a walking, talking pig with the voice a soft woman but the muscles of a fighter christened in war. They certainly seemed worthy of a few chunks of gold on the slave market, if not as a part of my crew.

I chuckled before proposing, “But, I tell you what, if you two want to prove to me that you are worth more than an alley cat, then I’d be more than happy to work with you. As a matter of fact, it’s been a while since I’ve seen a good bar fight and there’s a sizable number of people in here. Start one and come out on top, I’ll take on both of you.”

Still eyeing me a bit but desperate to get on my ship, they stood up from their seats, cracked their knuckles, and nodded at each other before proceeding to tear through the entire bar. It was like a whirlwind of screams and howls as the two imposing people broke bones, cracked skulls, and smashed stools against everyone in the bar who tried to fight back. When the bar fight concluded, the two of them stood panting with a red glare slowly fading from their eyes as I was now walking towards the front door.

Laughing, I tossed the barkeep a parcel of gold as I shouted to them, “Welcome to the Sea Dragon! I’m Captain Madrek, but most people just call me ‘Mad’. Find a bunk you like in the ship and carve your name on them. We leave once the sun drops in a few hours.”

I opened the door to a raging blizzard as I began to walk towards my ship, staring directly back at me. I couldn’t help but grin as I stepped back on top of my ship, watching my crew reinforcing the sails and patching the ship in preparation for the harsh winter ahead. I hid the grin behind my commonly enraged visage as I felt the two new recruits bound up the draw bridge behind me. To be entirely honest, I feel a bit bad for those on my ship, because all I’m doing is trying to fulfill my own death wish. Regardless, I always stop myself from worrying after a few moments. Seeing as how misery loves company, I hold no reservations against taking a number of souls with me.

The Hag was Right

Before the war, I wasn’t captaining a Man-O-War like I do now. I had a cargo ship which I held a few good cannons on and stripped some of its weight off, but it could barely stand up to anything worth a damn because of it. The speed was the best attribute it had, so I used it to cross the Solemn Ocean in half as much time as the standard brig. I smuggled everything and anything between the two continents, working for which ever side paid the most gold or offered the most Rot Gut. This kind of work was perfect while the two continents were simply threatening each other, but, when they actually began to swing swords between each other, I was forced to pick a side. Some Serhyan bandits on the back of wyverns tore my ship a part a few days from the coast of Kalldor. I spent almost half a month pitifully rowing a dinghy back to Tyriok. It was pretty obvious which side I hated more, so the generals in charge of Kalldor’s armies put me at the head of a Man-O-War and told me that I’d be able to sail undisturbed to the eastern coast of Serhya. I gathered a decent crew, just enough to sail and fight properly, and I did as I was ordered. Just as I saw the marshes, I blinked and found myself staring into the Feywild with a Hag staring back from the coast with a grin on her face. The crew and I tried to turn as fast as possible, but she shot the ship’s sails with a few bolts of lightning, lighting them on fire. As the sails fell as embers around me, I glanced back to the shore to see no one there anymore. When I turned back to the helm, she was staring back at me, her hair like seaweed and breath like a dead corpse. Her lifeless eyes scanned me as her bloodied and blued lips curled into a smile as she whispered something into my ear while caressing my shoulders.

While her grotesque nails slowly scratched across my shoulders, she hummed, “My salty sailor, you’re world is full of strife. Alas, as much as you want to end it, I give you eternal life. From now till eternity, you will never die in vain. Only once you find someone to replace you, will you finally be slain.”

As she whispered this in my ear, I felt a sickly green cloud seep from the scratches on the back of my shoulders and fill my vision. As the smoke enters my body, I feel a burn run through my throat, my eye sockets, and my ears. The sensation jolts me awake, making my eyes fly open as I stare at the wooden boards under the helm of the ship. Sweating, I painfully pull myself out of bed to grab a bottle of Rot Gut from my personal stash. I step outside and walk up to the helm, where I sit against the wheel and stare up at the starry night sky. I let the view console me as I try to drink away the memory of the Sea Hag I met almost 150 years ago. I’m not even half way through the bottle when the sun begins to break the horizon. It hurts my eyes a bit as I stare at it before hearing two sets of heavy feet stomp their way up from below deck. I stand up and hold on to the wheel as I see the Goliath and the Pig rise before everyone else, as they always do.

With an angered and tired look, I shout to them, “If I didn’t know how much you two secretly hate each other, I’d swear that the only thing you two do is break bunks together instead of sleeping.”

Quickly angered by my words, the Goliath retorted, “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear that a drunkard like you is better suited for the plank instead of the helm.”

A bit drunk and still recuperating from the nightmare, I toss the bottle at his hand after spewing, “You think you’re strong enough to put me on the plank? That’s funny coming from a stone skinned coward, running from his herd.”

With ease, the Goliath catches the bottle in his hand before trying to toss it back. The Pig stops his arm, pulls the bottle from his hand, and chugs the contents before slowly walking to me. I stand strong and straighten my back as she steps up to me, locking eyes with an angered gaze.

Slamming the empty bottle into my hand, she leans into whisper, “You know...one day soon, you’ll find yourself on the wrong side of this ship if you keep treating the whole crew like this.”

“Is that a threat, little Pig?” I say back to her, gripping the bottle.

She calmly responds, “No, that’s the truth,” before proceeding to crush the bottle into my hand, shoving glass shards into my palm as she says, “That’s the threat.”

She walks away and begins to work on loosening the sails as my hand begins to coat the helm with blood while I tear the glass shards free. Since they’ve joined about a year or two back, those two have been the best crew mates I’ve ever had. They’re always the first to start working and the last ones to leave the ship when we drop anchor.at a port. When they’re not working themselves to the bone, they’re drinking themselves into a stupor. However, they don’t needlessly fight because of it. They’re actually good people, pulling their punches when a bar fight breaks out so that everyone can have a good time. Only when a person actually means them harm do they show how enforcers usually act. When someone becomes their enemy, it’s not too long before they find themselves either cleaved in half or crushed to death. I’ve seen the Goliath smash three muggers’ heads into a building’s stone walls when they tried to attack him in an alleyway. The Pig once crushed an enemy captain’s knees into dust before sending him soaring through the air with a heavy hammer swing that practically tore his head off in the process. They’re not the friendliest to each other, but, when a battle brews, they work together so well that I still ask myself why they’re wasting away on the sea instead of just killing whoever their running from. Yes, I say “running from” because any person who can fight and kill that well but opts for a life as a simple crew member on a poorly kept Man-O-War has to be running from something. As much as I could glean from them, I didn’t see the mutiny coming. Apparently, they had been planning it for a good year after the Pig threatened me, getting every crew member behind them with ease due to how I treated them. I only found out after a painful fight with an airship from the Truncheon Order off the eastern coast of Serhya. When the smoke settled, we were all still alive and the bodies of porcelain knights and wyverns laid across our deck. As the shell of the airship fell and sunk into the water, I shouted at the crew to start tossing all of the dead overboard, but none followed my orders. Instead, they all surrounded me and watched as I continued trying to bark at them.

“They’re done following you, Madrek,” the Goliath called out from behind me, parting the crowd to join me in the circle.

“Is that so?” I responded with a look of disbelief, “Who are they going to follow then? Some phony mountain man like you?”

He chuckled a bit as he crossed his arms before saying, “No, this wasn’t my idea. Honestly, I’d rather toss you overboard and let the Dragon Turtle take you. Someone else wanted a proper fight, out of some semblance of respect or pity for you.”

Still standing at the center of the ship, I began to scan the crowd, looking back and forth past the mast I had my back against, shouting, “Then what stops me from freezing you all where you stand? If you won’t follow me, then what do I have to lose aside from time and wasted breath?”

I continued for a few more moments, shouting and screaming, as I tried to force someone to fight me. As I ended my lecture, I took a deep breath as I felt the power of a blizzard coalesce in my throat. As I began to open my mouth, now face to face with the Goliath, he shoves a bottle of Rot Gut to shut my yap before sending a thunderous uppercut slamming into the bottom of my still open jaw.

I fly back almost ten feet, crashing into the main mast. The Goliath walks up and kneels next to me, holding my jaw shut as he angrily glares into my eyes before saying, “You talk too much.”

Releasing my jaw from his grasp, I struggled back on to my feet, righting myself against the mast as he walks back to the crowd. With the taste of iron slowly filling my glass ridden mouth, I pull my boarding hammer from my hip before saying, “If that’s all you’ve got to show for this mutiny, I’m more than happy to trade scars for all of your lives.”

My throat, now filled with holes and gashes from the shattered glass, began to sear and burn as another blizzard gathered in it. Locking eyes with the back of the Goliath’s head, I held my breath for when he turned around. Before he did, I noticed a shadow at my feet, growing larger and larger. As I glanced up, I saw the Pig falling towards me with her own mallet held above her head. I stood my ground and painted her with a blizzard of snow and Ice, hoping to freeze her before she reached me. Unfortunately, I was too late as she soared through my breath and gave a valiant roar as she crashed to the deck, her hammer crushing my lower jaw off of my head. I dropped to my knees in pain as I felt a rush of blood fall from where my lower jaw once was, painting my knees red. Continuing to groan in pain, I blindly attempt to find my boarding hammer as the agony I feel holds my eyes shut. Reaching desperately for my weapon, I find a boot instead and I manage to crack one eye open just in time to see the Pig furiously swing her mallet back at my face. I feel the mass of wood shatter against my left eye as the back of my skull slams against the mast behind me. Almost rendered unconscious, I pant coarsely, feeling the glass shards still stuck in my neck, the left side of my face dented and crushed, and the barely functioning right eye pulse with pain as it tries to pull three images into one. After a few seconds, I barely pull myself to my feet as my vision clears just enough to see my severed jaw lying at the feet of the Pig. She tosses the wooden mallet overboard, the head of the maul now missing having been destroyed against my thick skull. In her other hand, she swings my own boarding hammer a few times as she begins to step towards me, testing its weight. Stepping on my lower jaw, I get just enough fuel back to feel one last, desperate blizzard try to gather in my mangled throat. Inhaling as violently as I could muster, I begin to exhale before feeling the spiked maul head of my own hammer slam against my ribs, pinning me to the mast and crushing my lungs. With my ice breath cut short and all energy gone from my body, I barely stay on my feet as the Pig tears the truncheon from my chest. Stumbling for a second, I watch as she twirls my boarding hammer around and swings a second time, using the bladed back of the maul’s head instead. As I lose more and more blood, I now barely feel the hooked blade cut through the bottom of my head where my lower jaw once was. Hanging by my head and barely alive, I feel my limp body be dragged by my hooked throat to the side of the ship. Sat on the very edge of the boat, I feel the boarding hook torn from my jaw as my head is held up.

Holding me by my ear to keep me lucid, the Pig angrily whispered, “Welcome to my Sea Dragon. I’m Captain Ham, but you don’t get to call me that.”

As she dropped my ear, the last thing I saw was her bloodshot eyes as the maul crashed into my head again. As I spun in the air overboard, I heard the crew cheering in celebration before I felt the warm water of the Zealous Ocean take me. For a moment, the water began to feel inviting while my senses left me. As I rose to the surface, my hearing was dulled by the waves covering them. The last few things I heard were my ship sailing away without me and a few birds cawing in the sky above me before the entire world turned mute. Feeling the waves carry me for a few more feet, the last sensation I had was the warm foam covering me while a soft breeze brushed my missing lower jaw. Soon after, my entire body went numb, stealing the taste and smell of both sea water and drying blood from me in the process. My sight stayed for the longest, allowing me to truly appreciate the clouds and sky above me. For my final moments, I thought back through my life as my sight began to fade. I started to reminisce about my troublesome home, surrounded by an abusive father and mother while my brothers and sisters succumbed to violence and drugs, as the vibrant colors of the cloudy dusk sky began to turn into simple shades of grey. My malfunctioning mind brought me back to the woman I met a few months before, reminding me of the child I left for her to raise alone so that my disposition doesn’t taint them any further. As the shapes of clouds bled together with the clear sky, the face of the hag returned to me. Instead of fear, I was filled with something else as I stared back at her emaciated and twisted visage. Instead of disgust, I felt tranquility as I gazed upon her. Without the will to try to escape, I welcomed her disturbing grimace, knowing that this would be the last time I’d see it. My vision turned pitch black as peace seemed to grasp my soul, lifting it to meet the soft embrace of death.

Epilogue

That should have been it. I should have died right there and then, but, as if shot from a cannon, I felt a searing pain course through the entirety of my body as my senses returned without mercy. As if a jolt of lightning had run through my corpse I awoke staring at a sky suspended between setting and rising. My one good eye furiously scanned as color returned to it, revealing a green mist tinting my vision. Every nerve in my body screamed as my muscles and bones were revived. The water felt like glass shards grinding against my previously dead nerves. The air and water tasted acrid and smelled of sulfur as I began to see twisted trees pass over me. Realizing I had returned to the Feywild, I attempted to force my body to swim away from the lifeless trees, but I was unable to move as it was still racked with pain. I tried to scream, causing my tongue to loosely flap against the air as my lower jaw was still missing. Practically paralyzed, I could do nothing as I felt my head tap soft mud against the shore. Frightened and terrified, I heard light footsteps dig into the silt around me and grow closer every few moments. My eyes frantically looked towards each sound, turning from one set of feet into three. As I looked up, I saw what seemed to be the silhouettes of two women stand above the right and left sides of my head. After a few moments, I was able to see their faces through my manic vision, making me panic even further. Both were hideous enough to almost make me retch on their feet. Staring at the one on my right, I shook as her specter white hair shifted in the breeze to reveal an awful black grin under piercing yellow eyes set inside of disturbing green skin. My eyes darted to my left, pausing in horror. This woman’s purple and grey skin seemed pulled back, clinging to her skull which had small twisted horns piercing through her scalp. She worried me more as she grinned, revealing hideously sharpened teeth. As I pulled my eyes away from her, a third figure appeared directly above me. In the very center, I tried my best to move as I saw the Sea Hag looming over me, a sick grin stretching across her face. Her slimy and horrid skin made my spine jolt as the smell of seaweed from her hair somehow seemed to burn my nostrils. As she crouched closer to me, her eyes still seemed made of glass while her grotesque mug made me wish for death again.They referred to each other as “sister” as they carried my still paralyzed body through the marsh to their home. As we approached their abject abode, they left me outside, staring up at the motionless sky.

The Sea Hag came back after a few minutes with a sinister vial in her hand. She poured it into what was left of my mouth as she whispered, “My dear, soon, you won’t have to fuss. We’ll be able to do so much more with you here than we ever could with just us.”

As I felt her claws holding my body still, I experienced a barrage of pain as the vial’s contents took hold in my body. I convulsed violently, causing her nails to stab me over and over. My eyes rolled back from the shear agony I felt as the elixir forced my body to restore itself. I felt my ribs and bones shatter as they returned to their proper places. My skull cracked and swelled back into its original shape. The perforated flesh which was my neck painfully pressed the shards of glass out of my throat, sinking into the marsh below me. The most horrendous feeling was my jaw, which seemed to grow out from the exposed bone that was left. It was as if the bones in my own head jerked against itself as it branched into a new jaw. What decaying flesh I still had left from my original jaw seemed to reattach and grow in the most agonizing way possible. After almost five grueling minutes of torture, I thought it was over as I began to breathe wearily. Opening both of my eyes, I locked gazes with the Sea Hag, still paralyzed and unable to move. She gave a fiendish smile as she leaned towards me, planting a kiss on my lips. With her mouth on mine, I felt a surge of desecrated water rush down my throat, filling my entire body. I felt it melt my insides as I jerked myself on to my feet, curled in pain and anguish. Trying to walk away, I puked and spat as the clear liquid leaking from my mouth turned into a foul opaque green. I fell to my knees as what felt like each layer of the Nine Hells seethed within me. The pain tossed my head back as a fountain of defiled liquid spewed from my mouth. Feeling rage and fury return to my body, I began to roar as I rose to my feet, fighting against the pain. As I did, I felt the skin beneath my scales grow callous and rigid. My own scales began to stand up on my petrified skin like spikes on a devil’s spine. The color in my left eye turned from an ice blue to glass, mirroring the Sea Hag’s eyes. As my primal outcry continued, the disgusting green liquid erupting from my mouth turned into ice and hail once again, preserving a seawater hue. As the blizzard from my undead body ceased, my roar echoed through the entire Feywild as I stood, twisted back to life by the Sea Hag. I turned to her, filled with rage and bloodlust.

With every fiber of whatever soul I had left, I wanted to kill her for turning me into such a monster, but, instead of attacking, I bent my knee and bowed my head to her as I asked, “What do you desire from me?”

#dnd #short story #captain #hag #undead #dragonborn #tales of baicia

2 notes · View notes