#s:anankos

[amitieos]

nanomachines, son | team 4 iron round

The world shifts rapidly, flashing before her eyes in a blur. It’s disorienting, enough to leave one nauseous, and as her vision swims and blurs, Elincia wonders if it will ever end.

Then it halts, abruptly. Her head jerks forward as she tries to steady herself. Their surroundings haven’t changed at all, strangely. Yet her garb has and so has that of her comrades. She breathes a sigh of relief. Thank Ashunera that Julius’ accursed hat is a thing of the past. Their foes have changed too, multiplied as well unfortunately.

Lilina is standing once more, at least. Or more accurately, flying, of which Elincia is admittedly rather jealous. Being grounded on the battlefield frustrates her to no end.

“Caeda, be careful! We don’t know how dangerous these things are,” Queen Crimea calls out, dashing over as fast as the hem of her robes will allow her. Whilst used to wearing long skirts, it really is an impediment during battle. She skids over, next to the airborne pegasus knight and feels yet another pang of jealousy. If she has to be trapped in such a terrible situation, she could at least have her beloved steed by her side. “Ah, I miss the skies already. Here, let me patch you up before you fly off into battle. We’re all a little sore after the last battle.”

Elincia casts Recover on Caeda. Roll d20: 2! 5 HP recovered Caeda has 7.5/10 HP remaining.

The mental block she felt earlier still lingers, but the spell she casts now is more powerful. It helps make up the difference, reinvigorating the marine haired woman to fight another round.

“Good luck! I believe in us, as a team!”

@childofvalla, @arcaeda, @disgracedvessel & @higaneion

[luxaltare]

( fun )  -  for our muses to spent the day doing fun activities together .

"Come now, I won't believe you're having fun without a smile," Lene chimes, taking the gentleman's hand. She's normally wary of strange men, especially those who linger and watch her dance. There's something different about him though. His gaze seems to yearn not for her body but the freedom to dance in kind. Their eyes catch and she's left stunned and confused for a moment. Where they aquamarine or gold? Perhaps blazing red, like a bonfire that longs to burn in the open air. Regardless, they sing a symphony of loneliness, not lust, so Lene offers him her hand and twirls. "Dancing is supposed to be fun. Don't worry, the steps aren't so important."

Her own are of course poised and practiced. Lene is not a hobbyist but a professional, after all. Still, she makes a point of spininng around, skipping over the ground beneath her feet and simply frolicking. This isn't a dance class or a stage performance, merely an opportunity for the people gathered here to let their hair down and enjoy themselves.

"That's the spirit! Sir, are you having fun?" Lene asks, giggling herself at the people around her twirl and whirl in unison. The villagers who live near the monastery certainly seem to be enjoying themselves, but Lene is careful to make sure everyone present takes something from today's activities. "There's no need to hold back here! Everyone deserves to be happy and have fun, y'know?"

[stahllions]

Stahl waved off the concerns cheerfully. "I'm perfectly alright; nothing more than a bump. If anything, it's my ego that's bruised!" he joked. Truthfully, he'd never been one whose pride could be so easily wounded. He didn't take himself seriously enough for that.

He did notice, however, that his fall seemed to have unsettled the other soldier more than it had himself. The next leap was met with a longer hesitation, but he waited patiently on the other bank, feigning interest in something in the distance in the hopes that the other would feel less pressure. He looked back just in time to see him land nimbly beside him, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

"Now you're getting the hang of it! Yes, let's."

They traversed a few more makeshift stepping stones through the boggy forest, some more successfully than others. By the time they had lost sight of the other knights from their newly forged path, Stahl was coated in mud from the knees down and splattered all over.

Finally, they reached a bank of land higher than the rest. He scrambled up the side of it and examined his surroundings.

"Aha! It looks as though this part of the forest has avoided the floods. It's a little damp, but our carts and horses should be able to make it to the village if we can direct them here. Shall we continue along this bank back towards where we left them to check that there's a way round?"

Like It Or Not, This is the Ideal Male Specimen

stallions:

The other man seemed hesitant to try again. Stahl could see why one might not want to put their pride on the line in front of a complete stranger, but he waited patiently for the soldier to make up his mind on whether he wished to press onwards or return. He would not judge him either way; there was no shame in honouring your emotions, although it was something Stahl struggled with himself.

But after a few moments, the smaller man executed a shaky vault across the bog and landed lightly next to him.

"Well done!" Stahl clapped a congratulatory hand on his shoulder. "Not so difficult once you get the hang of it, eh?"

He scanned the forested swamp ahead. It was true, it extended beyond the current extent of their vision, and in the distance, he could see the figures of various other foot soldiers scoping out the landscape.

"Let's head that way," he decided, nodding in a less densely populated direction, off to the right. "Perhaps there's a way around."

In his eagerness, he stuck his lance into the adjourning puddle without properly testing his weight against it before he launched himself forwards. There was a dangerous slippage of the blade in the mud below, and his balance shifted. With a squelch, he landed, knees first, in the mud a few feet from his intended landing point.

"Heh..." He rose to his feet and attempted to wipe off some of the mud. "I guess I got overly confident... Ah, well, a spot of dirt never hurt anybody, right?"

The knight presses on so bravely, while Anankos still trembles slightly. He flinches slightly in empathy as the fern haired man slips into the mud with his so daring attempt to cross a untreaded puddle.

This only makes Anankos less confident. Like he will end up doing the same, that he will end up being a failure once again in front of everyone. Sure, the knight with him is kind and would not judge his failings, but the same surely could not be said about the foot soldiers ahead of them - even if they didn't seem to be paying attention at all.

"Are... Are you sure that you're alright, Sir Knight?" He worries, as he always does. Fretting over every little last thing, especially when it came to humans. He sighs softly, hoping that the knight truly is alright. And he tightens his grip upon his own lance, quickly planting it in the mud as he planned to follow his companion.

"I'm not sure what is in that direction... but I shall trust you..." A quick swing of deft movements is all it takes for him to - surprisingly - land safely upon the other side of the foreign bank. He smiles nervously at the knight, gesturing the direction they now seem to be heading.

"If we both are well... shall we press onwards...?"

[freliana]

[FISHIES!] - sender excitedly points out aquatic life to receiver from their boat

Discomfort creeps into her bones the moment he joins her in the boat. It feels as if she’s already drowning, a ship torn asunder. The man does not lift his hood or take off his cloak, despite the intense heat of the tropical sunshine. He is hiding something and Tana does not think she wants to know what horrors lie just beneath the grey waves.

Yet he points at the fish with an almost boyish excitement. It’s jarring. Leaves her dizzy and feeling as though she’s falling off into an immeasurable abyss. Only to crash at the end, shattered into pieces of tiny glass.

Over the edge the waters are clear, warm and deep azure. It’s not so deep or far from shore she could not swim. A dazzling array of colourful fish swim in spirals, inviting her to dive right in and join them. A kaleidoscope glittering in the sunlight, irresistible and alluring.

"I want to swim with them!” Tana says nothing more before diving over the edge of their wooden boat and into the briny waters. Unable to resist the ocean’s siren song any longer. It’s like a homecoming, plunging in with her breath held. Fish greet her like and old friend, circling around her. An urge, a yearning in her chest begs her to stay below. Lest she becomes another princess turned to foam.

Eventually she surfaces, knowing that no matter her whims her body craved oxygen. The air fills her lungs and her senses sharpen as if the world is painted in technicolour. The sea still calls for her though.

What one earth had gotten into her?

“Don’t worry about me,” she calls to the man, who never even gave her his name. Her hand waves at him in the boat and she turns to face the shore. She cannot bring herself to get any closer to him again. An augural ache in her bones warns her to keep her distance, to keep the madness from gripping her once more and pulling her down to a watery grave. “I-- whew! I’m a strong swimmer. I’ll make my own way to shore.”

[amitieos]

no darkness, no season can last forever | team 4 gold round

She expects oblivion to blanket her. Cocoon her from the ravages of the world. Instead she stands once more in a crowded coliseum, face to face with a golden statue it’s gleam searing in the bright sunlight. Threatening to burn away the peace that had drowned her mind.

It moves, unlike a statue. Growls and roars with a terrible voice, the sound of angel’s strangled until their last breath falters.

Amaterasu heals Elincia for 1HP. Elincia has 6/10HP remaining

The shining, radiant faces of her allies is a small but welcome comfort. Elincia dares not hope this will be the last of their trials but there is no time like the present. Nothing to be gained just waiting to be assailed upon. Hand raised high she chants Luce’s incantation in a soft but self-assured voice. What need of her is there to bellow and shout when it responds so easily to her call.

Elincia attacks Shadow Self 1 (Chosen) with Luce Roll d20: 15! Critical hit. 6 damage dealt. Shadow Self 1 (Chosen) counters with Mauling Strike. Roll d20: 14! Hit. 1.5 damage dealt. Elincia suffers Def -2 until next player phase. Elincia follows up with Luce Roll d20: 16 Critical hit. 6 damage dealt Elincia has 4.5/10 HP remaining. Shadow Self 1 (Chosen) has 3/15 HP remaining.

Her assault upon the brazen King of the World is swift and assured. The bright light of her spells reflects from it’s golden form but it does her no harm. If anything it’s warm, refreshing. She isn’t quite done yet.

Elincia’s Galeforce triggers. Elincia casts Fortify. Roll d20: 16! 6 HP restored to party members. Live to Serve triggers. Elincia has 6 HP restored. Everyone has 10/10 HP remaining!

Back in her element, Elincia can’t help but feel her confidence renewed. Faith has always guided her well, stirred the magic in her heart to help in times of need. Her gaze dances over the others, the hint of a smile on her face.

“Are we well? Last round was brutal, if anyone finds themselves injured, please call upon me.”

[stahllions]

The other man seemed hesitant to try again. Stahl could see why one might not want to put their pride on the line in front of a complete stranger, but he waited patiently for the soldier to make up his mind on whether he wished to press onwards or return. He would not judge him either way; there was no shame in honouring your emotions, although it was something Stahl struggled with himself.

But after a few moments, the smaller man executed a shaky vault across the bog and landed lightly next to him.

"Well done!" Stahl clapped a congratulatory hand on his shoulder. "Not so difficult once you get the hang of it, eh?"

He scanned the forested swamp ahead. It was true, it extended beyond the current extent of their vision, and in the distance, he could see the figures of various other foot soldiers scoping out the landscape.

"Let's head that way," he decided, nodding in a less densely populated direction, off to the right. "Perhaps there's a way around."

In his eagerness, he stuck his lance into the adjourning puddle without properly testing his weight against it before he launched himself forwards. There was a dangerous slippage of the blade in the mud below, and his balance shifted. With a squelch, he landed, knees first, in the mud a few feet from his intended landing point.

"Heh..." He rose to his feet and attempted to wipe off some of the mud. "I guess I got overly confident... Ah, well, a spot of dirt never hurt anybody, right?"

Like It Or Not, This Is the Ideal Male Specimen

stahllions:

Stahl continued to call out encouragement as the other hesitated on the opposite bank. But when an attempt was finally made, he could quickly tell that it wasn't going to go well. From the off, the lance failed to gain traction in the soft mud and wobbled dangerously as the man's weight transferred onto it. Stahl hastily tried to lunge forwards to catch him, but he was too far away. Instead, he offered a hand to help him up onto the bank when he came within reach.

"Ah, never mind, it just takes some getting used to." The olive-haired man offered a good-natured grin. "Here, let me show you."

Many of the others had already continued their journey through the wetland, but Stahl patiently demonstrated how to properly secure the blade before vaulting. "See, you don't want it to slip around too much. And then you can just..."

He leaned his weight into the shaft...

... And successfully landed on the patch of land he'd been aiming for.

"See? Give it another go."

Anankos is now covered in mud, and still terribly nervous. His fall is really not helping his esteem in himself in being able to do this. And as well as Stahl surely means, it is still somewhat humiliating to be told such things and then for the other to do it so easily. If it were Cadros, perhaps he would believe it more wholeheartedly, but Stahl is still all but a stranger, and Anankos is just someone who does not deserve to be looked upon, in any form or dishelvement. He thinks about flopping back into the mud, and just lying there until the foot soldiers and Stahl came back.

Perhaps they could even use his body as a bridge.

Or perhaps maybe that is taking it too far. He was once a god, he can surely do this. Hopefully?

He sighes softly, hands trembling on the grip of the lance, as he once again plants the blade into the mud. While not seamless by any means, at least he makes it across this time. Though his hands shake and he feels the sudden urge to fall to the ground at Stahl's feet. Or perhaps that it simply his old knees trying to give out on him.

"Hah... I... I did it... at least that time... there is still quite a ways to go..."

[stahllions]

Stahl continued to call out encouragement as the other hesitated on the opposite bank. But when an attempt was finally made, he could quickly tell that it wasn't going to go well. From the off, the lance failed to gain traction in the soft mud and wobbled dangerously as the man's weight transferred onto it. Stahl hastily tried to lunge forwards to catch him, but he was too far away. Instead, he offered a hand to help him up onto the bank when he came within reach.

"Ah, never mind, it just takes some getting used to." The olive-haired man offered a good-natured grin. "Here, let me show you."

Many of the others had already continued their journey through the wetland, but Stahl patiently demonstrated how to properly secure the blade before vaulting. "See, you don't want it to slip around too much. And then you can just..."

He leaned his weight into the shaft...

[ Roll: 1d2 = 2. Success! ]

... And successfully landed on the patch of land he'd been aiming for.

"See? Give it another go."

Like It Or Not, This is the Ideal Male Specimen

stahllions:

During his years-long stint with the Shepherds, continually on the move throughout the continent, Stahl had experienced the whole spectrum of weather events, from sweltering heat to knee-deep snow. Even so, the torrential rain that had plagued Fodlan over the past few weeks was up there with some of the worst conditions he had ever seen.

At least in those days, he had almost always ridden his trusty steed, who would loyally trudge through water, mud or snow so long as there was the promise of an apple or carrot to reward him for his efforts. But he had not attended the Academy for long enough yet to earn his horseback certification. Besides, the horses that were present in their party did not seem too keen on taking another step forward. Stahl had to say, as he looked upon the flooded path with small islands of solid ground scattered worryingly sparsely across the murky, muddy water, that he was inclined to agree with them.

But the foot soldiers had agreed to scout ahead for a safe route of passage, and so duty called.

His face broke out into a wide grin at the words spoken by the man stood beside him. "Right you are!" He clapped a hand on the fellow's shoulder. "As much as we will it, looking at it does not appear to be making the conditions any better. Best to rip the bandage off."

With a deep breath, he stabbed his lance cautiously into the water as far as his long arms would reach. As soon as he felt it gain purchase in the solid ground below, he leapt, allowing the momentum to carry him to the nearest stepping stone. He landed clumsily, wobbling for a moment, but succeeded in keeping his footing.

"Now that wasn't too bad!" he called back. "Give it a shot!" This bank of dry land was wide enough for the both of them, so he remained in his place to offer a helping hand in case it was needed.

Anankos still doubts that he is actually able to do this, his hands trembling on the lance he holds. It is the thought of failure that overwhelms his mind, the thought that he will end up soaked in mud in front of everyone. But... they had all been able to do it... and he had lived so many years upon this earth that he couldn't doubt his ability to do such simple things now. All he had to do was try... right?

So he lifts his lance, attempting to do the same that his companion had done moments ago. Perhaps it is still the thought of failure weighing on his mind, or a simple lack of skill, but moments later, he finds himself face planted in the mud. A predictable outcome, but still embarrassing all the same. Or it would be embarrassing, so terribly so, if he were not so used to failure.

He stumbles up from where he fell, onto the dry bank, trying so hard to not revel in his suffering, how terribly he had just failed in front of everyone when they had all done it so easily before him. It was embarrassing, but nothing that he was not used to. He could take laughter and riducle, it was just another pain in his weary heart. If anyone could take it, surely it had to be him.

"Hah... that was... not as easy as all of you made it look... I suppose we have a ways to go yet, so perhaps... I shall do better next time... hopefully..."

[stahllions]

During his years-long stint with the Shepherds, continually on the move throughout the continent, Stahl had experienced the whole spectrum of weather events, from sweltering heat to knee-deep snow. Even so, the torrential rain that had plagued Fodlan over the past few weeks was up there with some of the worst conditions he had ever seen.

At least in those days, he had almost always ridden his trusty steed, who would loyally trudge through water, mud or snow so long as there was the promise of an apple or carrot to reward him for his efforts. But he had not attended the Academy for long enough yet to earn his horseback certification. Besides, the horses that were present in their party did not seem too keen on taking another step forward. Stahl had to say, as he looked upon the flooded path with small islands of solid ground scattered worryingly sparsely across the murky, muddy water, that he was inclined to agree with them.

But the foot soldiers had agreed to scout ahead for a safe route of passage, and so duty called.

His face broke out into a wide grin at the words spoken by the man stood beside him. "Right you are!" He clapped a hand on the fellow's shoulder. "As much as we will it, looking at it does not appear to be making the conditions any better. Best to rip the bandage off."

With a deep breath, he stabbed his lance cautiously into the water as far as his long arms would reach. As soon as he felt it gain purchase in the solid ground below, he leapt, allowing the momentum to carry him to the nearest stepping stone. He landed clumsily, wobbling for a moment, but succeeded in keeping his footing.

"Now that wasn't too bad!" he called back. "Give it a shot!" This bank of dry land was wide enough for the both of them, so he remained in his place to offer a helping hand in case it was needed.

Like It Or Not, This is The Ideal Male Specimen

During your brief absence, a powerful storm flooded Garreg Mach with what felt like an ocean’s worth of rain. The forested path that leads to Remire Village in Adrestia is still flooded, turning dirt paths into muddy swamps that even the horses don’t want to touch. It’s the foot soldiers who finally have their day, using their lances to vault over bogs and deep puddles. [ Grants Lance +1 ]

non-mission board starter for @stahllions

The rain and mud is a familiar sight to Anankos, though Valla's rains had been more lighthearted, a thing that the people had looked forward to. And the mud had been something to play in gleefully the next day once the rain cleared.

Though, the people of Fodlan, or at least the foot soldiers before him, do seem to have their own fun (Is it fun? They certainly look like they're having fun, even if they are not meant to be.) after a storm. His crimson eyes observe them as they vault over the obstacles in their way, his own trembling hands hold a lance as well, but he is scared to try it himself even as they beckon for everyone to come along. If he fails, it will certainly make him look like quite the fool.

But it seems he is not the only one too scared to leap across the puddles as easily as the foot soldiers do, and he glances to the man beside him, a shy smile across nervous lips.

"My apologies if this sounds strange or... rude... but perhaps we should just give it our best shot...? I mean... the worst that happens is that we fall on our faces in the mud in... front of... all those... people..." A flush spreads across his face as he imagines how they would laugh at him were he to fail, and perhaps he would deserve that laughter. Like he deserve any punishment that came his way.

"I'm sorry... maybe that wasn't such a good idea after all..."