#ser vellguine

[veliara]

FFXIVWrite Day 8: Pillow Duty

Never in his life could Grinnaux de Dzemael have imagined himself in the situation he found himself tonight. He just wanted to rest, perhaps to read over a glass of wine. Paulecrain had once again escaped to the Brume, Ciel was...in fact, she was the one who had created this frighteningly funny situation. Or rather HE did.

One hour ago

He lifted his head and mussed his wet hair. The astrology book Ciel had left the day before was on the table. He wished he could get up, pour himself some wine, and browse through the book that had captured her full attention.

“Must be something interesting if I have to work my ass off for a piece of her attention,” he thought to himself as he could do nothing, but watch the ceiling and glare at the hearth.

But he couldn't get up. The boy who'd appeared an hour ago was softly snoring, happily nuzzling his face into his neck and resting his left leg on top of him. He nestled himself between the back of the couch and the resting elezen, in a warm, safe cocoon. Almost as if he'd sensed he was being thought of, Ciel also placed a hand across Dzemael's chest. He flatly refused to go to sleep in the bedroom, even though he had been offered. He didn't want to change his clothes or take off his earring either. He mumbled something about being tired and feeling moody and then fell asleep with a dead grip on Grinnaux, as if he were a pillow. Dzemael lay there with Ciel clinging to him like a baby koala he'd read about. He pulled his left hand out from under the slumbering body, sighed, and put it gently down on the sleeping one's back.  Shorty sighed and rubbed his nose against Grinnaux`s neck. 

“Well, at least his nose is now warm.” The warrior thought to himself, recalling the way the shivers ran through his body when a cold nose nuzzled into the warmth of his neck. He sighed again and stroked Ciel's lower back.

A knock sounded at the door. A foreign one.  Paulecrain gave a different kind of knock. Thanking everyone and everything in his mind that Ciel hadn't removed the earring, he covered the sleeping one's ear rather out of sheer instinct. 

"Who's there?” he asked in his usual manner.

“It's Vellguine, may I come in?”

Grinnaux rolled his eyes, picturing what was about to happen.

“Sure.”

When Vellguine approached, Grinnaux grew a little worried about the mustachioed lancer. He stood there with his eyes amusedly wide and shifting his gaze from Grinnaux to Ciel and back again.

“Er…” Zephirin`s second-in-command was lost for words.

“Anything wrong?” Grinno raised an eyebrow with a deadpan expression.

“I'm a bit hesitant to ask…”

“Don't be.”

“What's the kid doing here?”

“Sleeping, as you can see.”

“Next to you?”

Grinnaux rolled his lilac eyes.

"When we came in after the shift, he said he'd been alone all day, bored and lonely” Grinnaux lied without blinking an eye."I couldn't kick him out."

"Why is he sleeping almost on you?" Vellguine was pathetic to look at. He seemed to have the whole world gone to pieces in his head.

Grinnaux looked at the older elezen as if he were a fool.

"He's still sick. He loves to cuddle when he's not feeling well."

Vellguine picked up his jaw and nodded, as if it all made sense to him at once.

"So why are you here?"

“Oh, yes,” Valgin shook his head to clear his thoughts. "Your uncle's servant is there. The Count wants to talk to you."

Dzemael cursed softly, causing Ciel to fidget, trying to hide from the disturbing sound. He was immediately caressed gently on the head.

"Please, I'm not cruel enough to wake him up right now. Can I ask you to tell him to go to hell? "

"The messenger?"

"Well it's better to send my uncle there. He can tell the count I'm busy today. I'll see him tomorrow."

"Sure, you hang in there."

"I'm suffering, but hanging," Dzemael sighed.

When the dumbfounded Vellguine walked out, Grinnaux turned and kissed the blond hair on top of Ciel's head. 

"It's a good thing you can't see this whole charade,” he whispered, caressing the sleeping one's back.

[scrollsfromarebornrealm]

on our fates alight--request

"Give him what he wants."

The statement had the effect of a bomb going off in Count Edmont's study. Shocked silence met Haurchefant's words, and then the hush was broken by Artoirel.

"What did you just say?!"

"Give the brother of Halone's Dominant what he wants." Haurchefant repeated. "Let them shelter with us, and draw a line with the other High Houses and the Church."

"Steady on, old boy!" Emmanellain protested. "Do you ever hear what you're saying?!"

"One of the most dangerous men in Ishgard was chosen by the Fury to be her flesh incarnate amongst us." Haurchefant fixed his gaze on his older brother. They didn't have a relationship, but he knew that Artoirel was every inch a solider much like the men and women that he commanded.

"He has scandal attached to his name." Artoirel replied. The look on his face was thoughtful, and Haurchefant seized the opening.

"Would you call it scandal or cleverness? So yes, he left the city for Ul'dah. Yes, he fought on the bloodsands. But he left as one of their most acclaimed champions--and wasn't even after the glory! He wanted only to better his skills in combat and to have the money needed to free himself from the vultures that call themselves his kin!"

"Haurchefant." Count Edmont warned, but it was without heat. He watched as his middle child spun on an armored heel to face him.

"Am I wrong? Of all the vipers in the pit that is Dzemael and their vassal Houses, House Seymour is the worst! How Ser Augustine was able to come out of it with the purity of heart and spirit that he bears has been remarked upon by many!"

"It's said Ser Vellguine was torn between him and Zephirin for the position of Archimandrite." Emmanellain crossed his arms, musing. "And he was in the running for at least second-in-command of the Temple Knights. If he hadn't gone to Ul'dah, he might have at least been able to obtain the latter."

"He's kind-hearted." He could see what his...brother was getting at. And if Artoirel was honest with himself, he'd thought upon it too. Kindness had no place on the battlefield with the dragons. Yet Augustine Seymour--now Bishop-- was praised for his gentle heart...but also feared for his utter ruthlessness and skill in battle. From healing fallen comrades to turning around and completely decimating his area of the field in a dance of blood and steel without so much as a blink... Artoirel looked at his-no, their father, who had leaned back in the chair. The older Fortemps' eyes were closed, and his arms crossed.

"This is not a light thing you are asking for, Haurchefant. His own deeds aside, there is still the matter of the Church and just how Halone came to choose him instead of the Archbishop." He said, opening his eyes. Not to mention there was an elephant in the room that everyone was steadfastly ignoring...Augustine's own bastardy.

"We declare ourselves neutral." His son countered. "We draw the lines, father! We are neutral due to offering sanctuary to Halone's Dominant and his kin! Anyone who tries anything would be violating the law of hospitality!"

"It could work?" Emmanellian held up his hands as all eyes focused on him. "We might have to withdraw on some matters--or ask for impartial judges--but I doubt that anyone would want to dare raise a sword against the Fury herself, let alone Her Chosen! If anything, it could possibly elevate our standing!"

"The other Houses." Edmont began.

"Nothing ever pleases Dzemael, and we know Durendaire will complain! Hallienarte would come around--in fact, they have no choice! They don't have the means to support or protect them!" Haurchefant urged. He watched as Edmont looked at Artoirel. His older brother nodded.

"We would have to be careful for a while. No mistakes, no scandals--" Artoirel glared at Emmanellian, who pouted and crossed his arms. "And we have to stay out of any business involving the Church. We have to be perfect until everything...settles."

"We can do it!" Haurchefant declared. "We don't even have to house them in the city. I can prepare quarters for them at Camp Dragonhead--in fact, that's what he wanted."

"His brother asked specifically for that?" Edmont repeated, his brows furrowing. Haurchefant nodded.

"He did. It was a request not only from him, but from Ser Augustine himself." The silver-haired elezen gestured. He watched as Edmont absorbed those words.

"...The business with the Fury aside...I cannot blame them for wanting out of the city. It could be that they are safer here than there." Edmont uncrossed his arms. "Very well. Extend the offer of our House's hospitality to them both."

[lunarosewood23]

FFXIVWrite2023 Prompt 2: Bark

Set a little after 3.0 in the Forelands. Raven laments over her talons and remembers those lost.

CW: Mentions of Death, Mourning

Word Count: 673

~~~

It had been harder to hold pens and other writing instruments since her inheritance awakened.

Raven stared down at the black talons that extended from her fingers, her once blunt nails that she would bite on when anxious turned into long claws, a permanent mark of what Nidhogg’s blood had done to her. She couldn’t really make a proper fist, though she damn well tried on several occasions, and she needed to learn how to get used to a pen in her hand again.

Still, Raven felt a need to make it to where those lost on Azys Lla were remembered. Their names etched into something to signify that they were people who were loved and were mourned.

So she went out hunting and in addition to her meal for the night she found a huge piece of bark that had come off of a tree and began to carve their names into the surface. It would be crude and ugly, but she felt as though she needed to preserve their names. Preserve them as people, not tools. She felt tears begin to sting in her eyes as she used her talons as her quill, what she knew of them sprung to the forefront of her mind.

Ignasse de Vesnaint - A dragoon, though she wasn’t sure of much else about him other than he and Ser Vellguine were close.

Vellguine de Bourbagne - The oldest among them. Silent, but kind.

Hermenost de la Treaumaille - A man of deep faith and a mage who passed along to her how to imbue magic into weapons as he did with his battleaxe.

Grinnaux de Dzemael - Brutish arsehole who bullied her when she was small, but Raven knew that his fate wasn’t one he deserved. 

Paulecrain de Fanouilley - Raven didn’t know much about him, other than that he was a former knight of House Fortemps that had been dismissed, and that he seemed close with Grinnaux.

Noudenet de Jaimberd - A bookish sort who liked magic. He seemed to be interested in Mingxia’s, and to some extent her own.

Haumeric de Peulagnon - Coronette’s dearest and the one who taught Mingxia Coerthan ice conjury. She remembered how Coronette had passed Serella her sword to do a blow for her when she was told of his fate.

Adelphel de Chevraudan - A notorious flirt and one of the fastest swordsmen she’d ever seen. She remembered the family of older sisters he was leaving behind and her heart squeezed.

Janlenoux de Courcillant - Always seen with Adelphel, the moon to Adelphel’s sun. And a wonderful culinarian. Were he not on duty he would be volunteering in her mama’s kitchen.

Guerrique de Montrohain - A sweet one, if a bit loud. A soft-spoken Raen named Yitsuge liked him. One of Zephirin’s most loyal, and to her knowledge they were close friends.

Zephirin de Valhourdin - Raven knew him to be a noble and just soul. Mingxia’s sister Kaia was in love with him and he loved her. She remembered having a small crush on him as a teen, but he was focused on his own goals to notice her.

Charibert de Leusignac Cross - Raven let out a sob as she wrote the name of her brother. She lost him once already when she was seven summers, and then she hadn’t seen or heard from him for a score. And of course the fates would be cruel to her by giving him back only to take him away again. The one who would sit and teach her words and scripture and answer her questions about the faith. She dragged her talon across his surname and replaced it with her own. Even though he was never formally adopted, he was a Cross, and damn anyone who would try arguing that. She knew he did horrible things, but she wanted to believe there was more to it than pure cruelty. Their mama taught them all better than that.

She set the bark aside as she hugged her knees, weeping for them, as she knew their families would be back home.

[dxvotionis]

Name | Zephirin de Valhourdin Titles | Zephirin the Just, Ser Zephirin, Father Zephirin Occupation | The Very Reverend Archimandrite of the Heavens’ Ward Age | 29 Gender | Male; He/Him Species | Elezen; Wildwood Height | 5'6 Loyal to | Ishgard, The Holy See, The Archbishop, The Heavens' Ward

Zephirin's mother died in childbirth, and his father followed her when Zephirin was seven. His father had been the Lord Commander of the Temple Knights, and his busy life had meant he had limited time to spend with his son but Zephirin still idolised him. His father had many friends that helped look after Zephirin in his childhood years, but after his father had passed Zephirin spent a lot of time training in swordwork. He wanted to follow in his father's footsteps, but also because his home felt incredibly lonely. He was a small child and was a lot smaller than all those he saw training, and in his young mind, he desired to be seen as stronger. He found a greatsword in his home, along with a small maroon crystal. He didn't understand then what the Dark Knights were, or why Ishgard hated them. When he was met with criticism for his weapon choice, he pushed back with a deep seated stubbornness. With his greatsword in hand, Zephirin entered the Temple Knights' grand tourney at the age of fifteen and won. He joined the Temple Knights and due to his steadfast and unflinching self, began to be known as Zephirin the Just. At one time, he was the favoured candidate for the position of Lord Commander of the Temple Knights, but instead the title was given to Ser Aymeric de Borel, who had been the one person Zephirin had considered a friend. He did not want his disappointment to sully Aymeric's victory and so he did what he could to smile but ended up falling into a deep depression, as his singular goal in life was no longer accessible. His saving grace was Ser Vellguine of the Heavens' Ward, who did not wish his talent to be wasted among the Temple Knights and offered Zephirin a position within the Heavens' Ward and Zephirin accepted. He flourished within the Ward and when Ser Vaindreau 'retired', and Ser Vellguine turned down the position of Very Reverened Archimandrite, Zephirin was given the honour and became the leader of the Ward.

Verse | Main Set before and during the Heavensward expansion up until The Singularity Reactor Zephirin leads the Heavens' Ward - Ishgard's finest, tasked with protecting the Archbishop Thordan. They are aware and complicit in his plans to become an all powerful primal, allowing and encouraging Ishgard to fall into chaos so that Ishgard may survive. The ends justify the means. (Note - Zephirin was not tempered. All he did was truly of his own free will)

Verse | Survival The sole survivor of their battle, Zephirin awakens later on the cusp of death surrounded by the bodies of his men. The battle had taken its toll and Zephirin found himself unable to manipulate aether and so unable to teleport. It took a long time for him to get home, found collapsed in the snow not far from the gates one day. The frostbite had set in, the injuries lingering from the fight and then further hurting himself traveling, he had a long ways to recovery and so he was taken to Ser Vaindreau's Grace. Even after recovering, he will be disabled for the rest of his life. Mostly by his own request he is stripped of his knighthood and his position in the clergy, and now spends his time in his estate. (Note - I am just straight up ignoring the EW caster quests)

[knights-of-ishgard]

HAPPY 6TH BIRTHDAY HEAVENSWARD

let's celebrate this fine day with the knights of the heavens' ward

[the-righteous-heart]

Day 30 - Free Choice After King Thordan's dead, Zephirin went to a journey to set things right. He wants to find his brothers in arms to rebuild the Heavens' Ward for the greater good.

[leusignac]

a celestial au involving “Guardians”, “Reapers”, and their mortal charges

[tuhis]

Some Ward emoji for our Ward FC’s discord!

[ser-vellguine-blog]

[[-contented noises-]]

[unbreakable-stonespear]

I was considering Vellguine's relationship with the present members of the Ward and I figured this sketch pretty much summarized him and Ser Guerrique.

[avroix-ffxiv]

Vellguine: "You have a driving need to prove yourself, same as many young Ishgardians. Whether or not you will be able to do so without getting yourself killed is another matter entirely. You seem the sort to be reckless to the point of foolishness."

(( True/False game. Make an assumption about me in my ask and I’ll tell you if its true or false. - @unbreakable-stonespear))

Avroix bit his lower lip, turning away from the elder dragoon. Ser Vellguine wasn’t wrong, of course- every day since the very first time he set foot in the Vault, the youth had striven to prove himself. Not only to Ser Paulecrain, but to the other knights, as well. Anything to repay the kindness of the opportunity, and to secure his place within the ranks.

“Yes, Ser,” He responded stiffly. “I will mend my ways.”

[mirageofthecrystal]

Junelezen 2022 - Day 11 I Orthodox Mayhem

"Ser Zephirin de Valhourdin, the Just.

Ser Vellguine de Bourbagne, of the Stone Spear.

Ser Chirbert de Leusignac, the Stern.

Ser Grinnaux de Dzemael, the Bull

Ser Adelphel de Chevraudan, Brightblade.

Ser Paulecrain de Fanouilley, Coldfire.

Ser Haumeric de Peulagnon, the Valiant.

Ser Guerrique de Montrohain, the Cleaver.

Ser Hermenost de la Treaumaille, the Levinlight.

Ser Noudenet de Jaimberd, the Wise.

Ser Ignasse de Vesnaint, of the Dragon's Tail.

These twelve names are etched into the history of Ishgard, the memories of its people, and the hearts of every hopeful young man or woman who ever aspired to the pinnacle of knighthood. I was no different, revering these men, these knights twelve, the noble warriors of the Heaven's Ward who served Ishgard and the Archbishop with the utmost faith and prowess. As long as I can remember, I hoped to be amongst their ranks. And for a time, that aspiration looked to be within sight.

It was a reward for service, for valor and bravery that I had shown on behalf of Ishgard and my House. I remember the day clearly, still sporting wounds from the battle before. I was bid to simply wait under the care of the chirurgeons, and that the honor bestowed upon me would await me when I was mended. But I was stubborn, so badly did I desire what I thought my just reward. And so I marched before the people to accept their honors, and in one swift stroke I was dubbed to be a squire to none other than Ser Ignasse, once comrade to my uncle and unparalleled in his lancework. He was the mightiest slayer of dragons I could have pictured in my mind's eye, a relentless force for righteous justice that was unparalleled. And it would be my duty to serve him, to learn from him, and perhaps one day to take his place amongst these knights when his arms grew too weak to uphold his charge.

It was to my great shock and horror, then, when the most noble and righteous Heaven's Ward revealed themselves to be traitors. Not only that, but they were Primals save but name, gorging on the desperate prayers of our people for salvation. The Archbishop, the Knights, then entire Orthodoxy was simply a machine for faith, for the power of Godhood and the might to bend a world to the whims of a madman. And among them was Ser Ignasse, the man who I adored as a mentor and a friend, even after he did nothing to spare me from my wrongly ascribed fate. A man whom I wondered if I should pity or despise, so thoroughly had be betrayed my trust and the trust of all those who believed in him.

For such a foulness to corrupt even these finest of men, it had to live at the heart of it all. I know not if the Holy See had always conspired to reap our fear for their own ends, or if the lies of the past had been seeded and forgotten, and it was only by the hand of Thordan VII that the decision was made to betray everything we stand for? Was it the machinations of the Ascians that darkened his heart with promises of power, those begins whom we now know to have orchestrated many of the woes ascribed to the sins of the Garleans, or did that hunger and lust for something more always exist within him? Or had our people been lead astray from the start, from the moment the deception was born, and each generation built upon the bones of the last to turn our fear and hatred of the dragons into a weapon mighty enough to smite them and rob them of all that which we could have built together?

Of course, questions of this nature do not present themselves so readily on the field of battle. When a war rages all around you, you often do not question all that which has brought you to its doorstep, only how to move forward. And the same question was posed to Ishgard when the sword Ascalon fell from the grip of Thordan, with his Knights of the Round slain at last, with the eyes of Nidhogg divorced from another host who had once sworn to slay the beast with all he had. When the corruption that had been born in the hearts of the church still burned in many of the fervent and the faithful, with so much vitriol that even after pardons had been passed they would threaten myself and my family, cry out for my blood as a traitor, and accuse my sister of laying with dragons.

Even after the war had subsided, and for the first time in a millennium could the people of Ishgard at last choose a new and better path, the voices that had poisoned us rose into a louder and more violent crescendo. And thus did the consequences of our ancestors actions continue to spiral out of control, to divide us and conquer us within our hearts where the greatest battle is fought for the soul of us all. Our legacy would be forever stained with blood, or people truly divided between faith and truth, and the shade of Nidhogg's power would go on to plague lands beyond our own, for he would not rest even when consigned to the deepest and darkest abyss from whence no one should have been able to return.

With so many questions left behind of the nature of the Holy See and the path that must be walked, it was with the greatest reticence that I took up the position I had long coveted. Where the Heaven's Ward had once served to protect the Archbishop and the authority of the church, no longer did their need to be a shield to protect the lies which were woven. We required a new purpose much like our people, and I took up the sword knowing that I would need to confront those questions on behalf of Ishgard where once I was merely a victim of them.

The Heaven's Ward would have to become something different, our new role dedicated to the people of Ishgard, her safety, and in serving our new place amongst our allies of the Eorzean alliance. Each day I took the steps I thought would carry us to a brighter future, while the shadow of Ser Ignasse stretched behind me, dogging my steps and doubting my conviction. If one such as he had faltered and fallen to the darkness, then how could I hope to be any different? It boiled inside me, rage, fear, hatred, regret, all the things he must have felt to drive him to make the decisions he did. How could I hope to be any better, when the best among us could not resist the clarion call of sinister power?

To this day I still have no answer for that. I still do not know if I am truly worthy of the office which I hold, or if I too will succumb to the same damning influences that consumed my idols and turned them away from their people. I can only hope, through my own deeds and my commitment to those I have lost upon my path, that I can provide to Ishgard even a modicum of the grace and prosperity its people deserve, and I would be willing to give my life in order to bring it to fruition. The sins of the past should ever serve as a reminder, not that those who came before us failed, but that any of us can be found fallible, and that it is in the ability to correct our mistakes that makes us great, not our inability to make them at all.

- Excerpt from the personal journal and accounts of Ser Faiolan Penderghast, Knight of the Heaven's Ward

[rxpertoire]

It felt like everything had been torn away from him in an instant. He had been so sure, everyone had been so sure... But it wasn’t him. He didn’t know if it hurt more or less that his friend had earnt the title over him; it just hurt.

He thought he congratulated Aymeric, he thought he probably smiled at him as he did. You deserve it. I’m happy for you. He must have congratulated him - but the days after are a numb blur. All he had wanted to do was to prove himself. All he had wanted was proof that he was worth all the effort he put in. It was harder not to listen to those horrible rumours, those days after. Was he really so proud that he couldn’t even fight with a different weapon? Was that why he had lost? It didn’t matter anymore, even if he never touched a greatsword again - Aymeric had the position he had spent years striving towards. He wouldn’t have that chance again. 

He tried not to let it show, he managed fairly well. He’d never really been social - never really been cheerful. He could be quiet and distant. He brushed off anyone who reached out. Not many did, though.

The darkness that loomed over him seemed endless. Nowhere to move, no step to take. It was Ser Vellguine that pierced that impenetrable haze; reaching out to accept the young Elezen. He saw in him what had been looked past. He could have a place, he could grow in the Heavens’ Ward. If the Temple Knights would not recognise him, why stay? Why linger? Why would he ever look back?

[lonebaelsar]

Even high up the ladder of the church, paperwork is a being incapable of escaping from. Ser Vellguine stays the long hours after training and sermons , his shift for guarding his holiness not until two days from now. 

 He looks up upon hearing the door to his office open. 

 “...Should you not be asleep?”

@virtuti​

[haillenarte]

the grand cosmos;

Here are translations of the elven dialogue in the Grand Cosmos. Relevant to fans of the Heavens’ Ward.

Here’s a first: a multi-language compilation! I roped my boyfriend into contributing the DE/FR translations, whereas the JP ones are mine, as usual. Overall edits were done jointly by the both of us.

Lord Tolthewil / “Thordan” Archbishop and Ancient King

EN: For Lakeland! JP: レイクランドよ永遠に…！ DE: Lang lebe das Seenland! FR: Longue vie à Grand-Lac!

TRANSLATIONS JP: For Lakeland, towards eternity!  DE: Long live Lakeland! FR: Long live Lakeland!

EN: The elves shall prevail! JP: すべてのエルフのために…！ DE: Lang lebe das Geschlecht der Elfen! FR: Longue vie aux Elfes!

TRANSLATIONS JP: For the glory of the elves... DE: Long live the elven race! FR: Long live the elves!

EN: And now you fall! JP: これで終わりだ…！ DE: Das ist das Ende... FR: C’est terminé!

TRANSLATIONS JP: This is the end! DE: This is the end... FR: It's over!

Ser Intheran / “Zephirin” First Seat of the Heavens’ Ward

EN: The chivalric spirit shall prevail this day! JP:  今こそ我らの真の力を見せるときぞ！ DE: Jetzt zeigen wir euch, wie die Helden der Elfen kämpfen! FR: Éprouvez la puissance des chevaliers de Grand-Lac!

TRANSLATIONS JP: Brothers! It is time to call upon our true power! DE: The time is come to show you how elven heroes fight! FR: Witness the might of the knights of Lakeland!

*This line appears to be a reference to Zephirin’s battle call shortly before the battle in the Singularity Reactor, so I’ve translated it as such.

“Vellguine” Second Seat of the Heavens’ Ward

EN: <gasp> Would he truly say such things? JP:  なんと！？真でありますか？ DE: Wirklich? Meint Ihr das auch ernst? FR: Vraiment!? Vous êtes sûre?

TRANSLATIONS JP: What?! Is it true? DE: Truly? Do you say that quite in earnest? FR: Truly?! You are certain?

*This line appears to be a reference to Vellguine’s exclamation in the Japanese version of the fifth Tale from the Dragonsong War, “What Remains of a Knight.” It is not present in the English version of the story.

“Charibert” Third Seat of the Heavens’ Ward

EN: Would that my last partner could dance so well. JP:  いいですね、アナタ！アタシに合わせなサイ！ DE: Gut so, schön im Rhythmus bleiben. FR: Gardez le rythme, et tout ira bien!

TRANSLATIONS JP: Excellent work, darling! With me! DE: Good. Keep to the rhythm just so. FR: Keep the rhythm, and all will be well!

*This line appears to be a reference to one of Charibert’s lines from Thordan’s Reign. As before, I have translated it with respect to his flamboyant Japanese personality.

Ser Grymme / “Grinnaux” Fourth Seat of the Heavens’ Ward

EN: Taste mine axe! JP: ミンチにしてやる！ DE: Ich mach euch zu Hackfleisch! FR: Je vais vous découper en tranches!

TRANSLATIONS: JP: I'll make mincemeat out of you! DE: I'll make mincemeat out of you! FR: I'll cut you to pieces!

*This line appears to be a reference to a voiced line Grinnaux says in The Vault. As his fans are no doubt already well aware, “Minchi ni shite yaru!” attained a kind of memetic notoriety within the Japanese fandom on par with the English fandom’s fondness for Charibert’s “Sickness must be purged!”

“Adelphel” Fifth Seat of the Heavens’ Ward

EN: The next time you step on my toes, dear, it shall be the last. JP: 我が美剣にかけて踊ってみせましょう DE: Dürfte ich Euch meinen besten Schritt vorführen? FR: Laissez-moi vous montrer mes talents de danseur!

TRANSLATIONS JP: Now you dance with the Brightblade. DE: Shall I show you my finest steps? FR: Let me show you my skill on the dance floor!

*This line appears to be a reference to one of Adelphel’s lines from Thordan’s Reign. I translated it... how I think his entrance into KotR Ultimate should go...

Ser Phinibert / “Paulecrain” Sixth Seat of the Heavens’ Ward

EN: Have at thee! JP: ブッ刺しちまうぞ？ DE: Ich klatsch euch weg! FR: Vous allez sentir passer ma lame!

TRANSLATIONS JP: Shall I cut you to ribbons? DE: I'll crush you!  FR: I’ll have this bayonet through you!

EN: I have you! JP: 突き殺してやる！  DE: Tod! Tod allen Feinden! FR: Vous finirez empalés sur ma lance!

TRANSLATIONS JP: Death waits at the end of my spear! DE: Death! Death to all our foes! FR: You'll perish on my lance!

*These lines appear to reference Paulecrain’s dialogue from Thordan’s Reign.

Ser Hamonth / “Haumeric” Seventh Seat of the Heavens’ Ward

EN: Down with you! JP: 震えるがいい！ DE: Zittert und fürchtet euch! FR: Tremblez, mauviettes!

TRANSLATIONS JP: Tremble before me! DE: Tremble in fear! FR: Tremble, cravens!

EN: This cannot be... JP: 仕方あるまい… DE: Was für ein tragisches Ende... FR: Quelle tragédie...

TRANSLATIONS JP: So must it be... DE: What a tragic end... FR: Such a tragedy...

*These lines appear to reference Haumeric’s dialogue from Thordan’s Reign.

“Guerrique” Eighth Seat of the Heavens’ Ward

EN: We should have a contest. JP: 舞踏勝負か、面白い！ DE: Famose Idee, einen Wettbewerb im Tanze abzuhalten. FR: J'adore les concours de danse!

TRANSLATIONS JP: A dancing competition? How droll! DE: Splendid idea, to hold a dance contest. FR: I love dance competitions!

*This line appears to be a reference to one of Guerrique’s lines from Thordan’s Reign.

“Hermenost” Ninth Seat of the Heavens’ Ward

EN: It’s all in the hips. JP: 力を束ねるのだ… DE: Wir sind ein traumhaftes Paar. Der erste Preis ist uns sicher... FR: À deux, c'est plus facile...

TRANSLATIONS JP: Power gathers before me... DE: We make a fantastic pair. We're sure to place first... FR: Together, it's easier...

*This line appears to be a reference to one of Hermenost’s lines from Thordan’s Reign... at least in Japanese.

Ser Mothbert / “Noudenet” Tenth Seat of the Heavens’ Ward

EN: Know your folly! JP: 魔力よ降り注げ！ DE: Mächte zwischen Himmel und Erde, ich rufe euch! FR: Vous n'êtes pas de taille face à mes sorts!

TRANSLATIONS JP: Ancient magics, descend upon us! DE: Forces of heaven and earth, I call upon you! FR: You’re no match for my spells!

*This line appears to be a reference to one of Noudenet’s lines from Thordan’s Reign.

Ser Javyth / “Janlenoux” Eleventh Seat of the Heavens’ Ward

EN: We must drive them out! JP:  この一矢を総長に捧ぐ！ DE: Diesen Pfeil widme ich dem König der Elfen! FR: Mes flèches vont vous transpercer le cœur!

TRANSLATIONS JP: This arrow strikes in the commander’s name! DE: I loose this arrow in the name of the Elvenking! FR: My arrows will pierce through your hearts!

*This line appears to be a reference to one of Janlenoux’s lines from Thordan’s Reign.

“Ignasse” Twelfth Seat of the Heavens’ Ward

EN: One-two-three, one-two-three. JP: ところで副長はどちらに…？ DE: Wo ist denn eigentlich der gute Herr Vize-Kommandant? FR: Où est passé le vice-commandant?

TRANSLATIONS JP: Incidentally, where is the second-in-command...? DE: Say, where is our honorable vice-commander? FR: Where did the vice-commander go?

*This line does not reference anything Ignasse has said in the past, but instead is an acknowledgement of his admiration for Vellguine, I suppose...

[knights-of-ishgard]