1. We have moved to a new forum system. All your posts and data should have transferred over. Welcome, to the new Serebii Forums. Details here
    Dismiss Notice
  2. Be sure to join the discussion on our discord at: Discord.gg/serebii
    Dismiss Notice
  3. If you're still waiting for the e-mail, be sure to check your junk/spam e-mail folders
    Dismiss Notice

Digimon Idylls: Fracture (PG-13)

Discussion in 'Role-Playing Games' started by storymasterb, Jun 19, 2019.

  1. storymasterb

    storymasterb Knight of RPGs

    Yamato Takeshi (Cyberdramon)
    Camelot Outskirts

    Yamato breathed in the fresh morning air as he strode the cobblestone road. To his sides stretched fields that became forests in the distance, behind him was the road, and ahead of him was Camelot.

    The city rose like an island rises from the sea, a sprawl of glorious white stone. The city walls were tall and strong, guards visible atop their battlements as Yamato advanced. The gates were open, welcoming a tide of Digimon of all sorts, for this was a day of celebration and glory. The day Olympus had fallen years before.

    Beyond the wall, Yamato picked out spires and towers of that white stone, a cathedral here, a church or shrine there, watchtowers keeping a wary vigil over the metropolis. And at the heart of it, the castle itself. Towering above all else, the keep rose like a mountain, casting the shadow of Artorigus over his realm.

    "So this is Camelot... amazing..." Tachibana said from his position at the Cyberdramon's side.

    Yamato nodded. "We've heard so much of it, but nothing ever compares to seeing it in person." He smiled, as much as he could with a dragon's jaws. "Let's go. If we're fast, we can find a good spot for the celebrations."

    "If we're fast?" Tachibana said with an incredulous downward gesture at his four legs. "We're not all cybernetically enhanced ninjas now, are we?"

    The Cyberdramon chuckled. "I am not a ninja. Though I could carry you, if you'd prefer?"

    Tachibana weighed this. "Very well," he finally conceded. "But no one we know must ever know." Yamato laughed.

    "As you wish," he said, with a slight bow. "Don't worry. We're going to see all the sights today. What could possibly stop us?"


    Shamsiel (Meicrackmon)
    Camelot City

    They walked in procession, heads bowed, hands clasped in prayer. The monks and nuns went about their business solemnly, as in all things their thoughts turned toward Yggdrasil. Bringing up the rear of the procession was Shamsiel, the Meicrackmon's head bowed lowest, hands clasped tightest. As she walked she glanced where she could, taking in the gleaming white stone of the city with wide eyes. No matter how many times she came to Camelot, it always amazed her. The crowds, the grandeur, the beauty, and above all, the knights. Resplendent ideals of chivalry and heroism, just as they had been the day Mars threatened the abbey.

    For now, though, the procession solemnly walked through the streets, joined by their faith. At their head was Sarathiel, the MagnaAngemon resplendent, his wings radiant. As he suddenly came to a halt, they all followed suit. Slowly he turned.

    “Shamsiel,” he said in his soft voice, a voice that was unyielding as steel regardless.

    “Yes, Sarathiel?” she answered meekly.

    “We seem to have forgotten the wine, child,” the angel said. “Would you kindly go to get it while we head on?” Her heart sunk. They were going to watch the parade, for Sarathiel deemed it proper and right that they honor the abbey's defenders so. She wanted to see the glorious king again, not shrouded as he had been that chaotic night, but perfect and clear in sight. But at the same time, she did not want to disrespect the abbot with a refusal.

    “Yes, Sarathiel,” she said, bowing her head lower. Sarathiel retrieved some coins from his robe and pressed them into her hand.

    “Do not tarry, child,” he said, a chill edge in his tone. “It would not do to lose yourself in these streets.” She knew the way to the wine store. She had walked these streets enough times with his guidance to know the route. And if she was quick, surely she could get it and then return in time to see Artorigus and his knights.

    She turned as they walked on, racing through the streets. The coins warmed in her grip as she ran, ducking through crowds to try and reach the shop in time.


    Yamato Takeshi (Cyberdramon)
    Camelot Rooftops

    “I thought you weren't a ninja!” Tachibana wailed.

    Yamato laughed as he leapt again, landing on a tiled roof with surprising grace. His cybernetics hummed as he ran and jumped, his wings beating to propel them across another gap. Tiles clattered as he crashed down. He carried Tachibana in his arms, clutching the Datamon tight.

    “I am not,” he repeated. “But one doesn't have to be a ninja to do this.” He paused, gazing out over a sea of tiles, towers and spires. They had come halfway to the castle already. Overhead passed flying Digimon of all sorts, though the space immediately around the keep was kept clear by patrolling knights. Beloved as Artorigus was, it was a common rumor that the remnants of the Olympian regime still seethed and plotted revenge, and clearly no chances would be taken. The guard seemed out in force to prevent any plots on this day.

    As he rested and watched, a sound came to his honed ears. A snarling in the side streets below. Though the main roads bustled, the alleyways were near deserted, abandoned by those seeking a glimpse of the great king. The guards were scarce there too, drawn more by the throngs that flooded the major streets to the castle.

    “What is it?” Tachibana asked, picking up on his companion's sudden focus.

    “Snarling,” the Cyberdramon said. “And I think... panting?” He moved his head to the side, trying to home in on the noise. As soon as he caught it, he began to move.

    “It could be nothing,” the Datamon said. “And surely the guards can handle it.”

    “I would rather be sure,” Yamato answered. Although he was thinking the same, the hero in him rebelled immediately. The guards were preoccupied with security on the main roads and closer to the castle. They might not pick up on trouble in a quieter part of the city until it was too late. He leapt over a street, gliding to the next rooftop and continuing at speed across it.

    “And what is it you plan to do?” Tachibana sighed.

    “What I always do,” he chuckled. “My grandmother once said this.” As he ran, he made to lift one hand to the sky, only to stop as Tachibana threatened to slip from his arms. “The man who abandons those in need, will find his soul needing.”

    He landed on the next rooftop and through the corner of his eye, he caught motion in the street below. One dark figure stumbled across rough cobblestones, scraping against a wall as they run, and several blurs of darkness followed, snarling as they raced for their quarry. It was a hunt, he realised. Perhaps the quarry was a criminal? But no. Whatever those shadowy blurs were, they were not guards. They did not seem to be bearing the crest of Logres as the guards and knights did.

    “Tachibana,” he said, a serious edge sharpening his tone. “Stay here.” He put the Datamon down. “This might get dangerous.”

    “Right,” his companion said. “Take care too, Yamato.”

    “Don't worry,” the Cyberdramon smiled. “I'm the hero, after all.” And with that, he flung himself to the next roof, racing after the hunters and their quarry.


    Shamsiel (Meicrackmon)
    Camelot Alleys

    Shamsiel rushed through the alleyways, a pail of wine gripped tightly to her chest. It had taken longer than she thought to reach the shop and buy it, but a sympathetic guard had pointed her to a shortcut to get her back faster. She could still reach the parade in time. Surely.

    As she raced, arms straining with the weight of the pail, a sound reached her keen ears. The sound of animalistic snarling. Warily she crept to the next corner, still hurrying, and as she rounded it something slammed into her and sent her crashing to the ground. She heard the clattering of armor on stone as she fell, the pail falling from her arms and splintering on the cobbles. Wine rushed over the ground like a pool of blood, soaking her fur.

    The Meicrackmon looked up as dark shapes came to a halt before her. A pack of Dobermon, all snarling and baring their fangs, six in total. Three Cerberumon with hellfire licking at their jaws. And a Plutomon with hungry eyes, its red mantle tattered, its multiple jaws all grinding their fangs together.

    “How unfortunate,” the Plutomon growled, the words like blades torn from his throat. “I hoped to avoid witnesses.” He raised a hand, his claws gleaming.

    Shamsiel glanced to her side as the Dobermon and Cerberumon began moving to circle. The Digimon who had run into her. At first they seemed familiar, but the dark Digizoid of their armor was trimmed in a dark blue, a mantle of the same rich hue wrapped across their body. They bore a great round shield and wielded a conical dark lance in the other hand. A Gallantmon, but not. And something about them seemed... off.

    “I'll make this quick, girl,” the Plutomon said with a cold chuckle. “Curse your ill fate.” He took a step forward.

    A shadow fell across Shamsiel, blocking out the sun for a moment before something fell to the ground in front of her. Red wings crossed her vision, leathery and dragonic. Dark rubber coated the figure, adorned in steely Digizoid. And a red scarf billowed as the Digimon rose up.

    The Plutomon had taken a step back, snarling. “You! Who are you?!”

    “Just a hero passing through,” the Cyberdramon said with a voice that was like a confident smile. “Remember that.”

    The Plutomon growled. “Urgh! It doesn't matter! No witnesses!” He pointed a claw at the three. “Kill them!”

    “Don't worry,” the Cyberdramon said to Shamsiel, glancing back. “I'll protect you.” A Dobermon lunged and the cyborg dragon caught its jaws, lifting the canine and tossing it at the next. Shamsiel caught a whirring sound as he moved.

    The Meicrackmon rose up, droplets of wine falling from her fur. She didn't know how to fight, but even so she let instinct take control, baring her claws. “I can help you.” The two stood between the pack of canine Digimon and the fallen Gallantmon.
  2. TheSequelReturns

    TheSequelReturns Phantom Thief

    // Caius Osmond (Knightmon)
    // Camelot City

    Caius took another bite of cheese as he waited for the parade to begin. His meager collection of cheese scraps wasn’t exactly festival fare, but it would do. It was all he could scrounge up on his limited funding.

    He liked to watch the parade from up here, atop this old spire. At some point it time, the dilapidated structure may have been a monastery or a house of worship. But as the city grew around it and it became trapped in this maze of back alleys it must have fallen into disuse. Caius could relate.

    But whatever its origins, the old building had served him well in years past. Offering a hassle free, if not perfect, view of the festivities below without him actually having to mingle with the crowds.

    Last year he had shared the small space atop the spire with a rather talkative Birdramon who had seemed as eager as he was to avoid the crowds. Caius never did ask why. The year before, a pair of FanBeemon had managed to talk him out of some food, but they got bored of his company long before the festival started. This year? So far, he was all alone.

    The sound of quick, hurried footsteps caught his attention. It was coming from the alleyway down below, but which one Caius wasn’t sure of. He leaned over the railing gingerly, aware that it couldn’t support his full weight, and scanned the city below.

    There. A small figure was dashing through the alleys, something clutched in their hands. He couldn’t see what, but no one ran that fast without a good reason. Curious, Caius followed the runner’s path until he saw another figure on the rooftops over yonder, headed this way as if to meet her.

    She rounded a corner and disappeared from sight. The figure on the rooftop jumped down afterwards. And then a loud yelp and a crash rang out from that direction.

    An ambush? Would a bandit dare strike in broad daylight this close to the parade?

    Caius didn’t know, but he wasn’t going to sit here. That little runner might need help, and he was close enough to provide it.

    Caius leapt from the spire and landed on the sloped roof below in a single well practised movement and then slid down until he fell into the alley below amid a small shower of loose singles. He landed hard, but on his feet, and shaking it off began moving towards the alley where the fighting seemed to be.


    // Katarina Akerman (Duramon) & Magnus Strand (RaijiLudomon)
    // Camelot City

    A Duramon and a RaijiLudomon emerged from a small smithy, both of them looking more haggard than they should, given the early hour of the day and the promise of festivities it contained.

    “Well, that was a pointless use of an all-nighter.” Katarina muttered. She had been the one leading the negotiations for the better part of the morning. And it had worn her down tremendously.

    Magnus sighed. “You win some, you lose some. At least we got a meeting with the dock master the next time we’re in Venta, so it wasn’t a total loss.”

    “Everything is a loss when the guilds are involved.” Katarina said. “I thought sympathizers were supposed to be sympathetic?”

    Magnus lowered his voice. They were alone, but you could never be too careful. “We aren’t being arrested by knights right now. That’s better than we’d get in most of these places.”


    The two of them made for a nearby inn. It was not first class by any means, but with the parade happening today any room at all was hard to come by. And it had cost them triple the going rate for the week.

    “I’ll tell you what,” Magnus said, “How about you go back to the inn and make sure they haven't sold our room to someone else, and I’ll go find us some food?”

    “No take backs.” Katarina said. She was already heading towards the inn.

    Magnus chuckled to himself. He could read her like a book now.

    “You say something?” Katarina asked back.

    “No, just thinking aloud.”

    “Well, go think about food. I’m starving. And if they gave our room away there might not be an inn for you to come back to.”

    Magnus laughed. “As you wish.”

    Katarina rolled her eyes at him and set off again. She hated when he treated her like a damsel. And he knew it too. But she let him get away with it for some reason.

    Magnus turned and floated off, no need to walk when his body could levitate. Finding food would be a simple enough affair. There were digimon of all sorts lining up at food stalls from one end of the main street to the other right now. Finding food quickly? That might be a challenge. But if he stuck to the back alleys he might be able to find something. Maybe an out of the way confectioner or baker. Giving Kat some space was one thing. But cake? That would keep her from venting for a while yet.

    The sound of armor boots rushing across the stone streets came echoing from up ahead. Magnus ducked against the wall, not sure what to expect. A figure dashed past, across the intersection up ahead. It went by quickly, but there was no mistaking that silhouette. That was a Gallantmon. But what was it doing here? More footsteps, this time with the sound of scraping claws. Magnus ducked behind a signpost as several smaller digimon dashed past, followed by a few larger ones.

    Were they… chasing the Gallantmon? What in the world was going on here? Magnus’ curiosity got the better of him and he followed after the group thankful that he could move about rather silently.

    He followed at a distance for a moment, before noticing that they had all stopped up ahead.

    They were talking. As he got closer, he caught the tail end of what they were saying and it wasn’t good.

    A large Plutomon and several of what had to be his subordinates had cornered the Gallantmon, who lay sprawled out on the ground. But a Cyberdramon and what appeared to be one of the angel digimon stood between them and their prey. Now an angel was involved? This just kept getting stranger and stranger.

    “...No witnesses!” the Plutomon finished before pointed a claw at the three. “Kill them!”

    Magnus didn’t need to hear any more. He leapt into action, stopping a Dobermon mid leap as it jumped for the Meicrackmon with his force field. The dog digimon hit his invisible barrier like it was a stone wall and crumpled several feet off the ground. Then, with a flash of yellow light he was blasted off to the side of the alley.

    “Now what do we have here?” Magnus said towards the Plutomon. “It isn’t right to gang up on people you know.”

    Behind them, a well battered Knightmon emerged from the intersection and made for the group. He scanned the situation immediately, sizing up both parties before holding up a hand. “I’m here to help.” he said plainly, before offering his hand to the Gallantmon. He recoiled for a moment, seeing something about the downed Gallantmon that Magnus couldn’t in the dim light, but then he extended his hand fully. “Can you stand?”

    Magnus nodded at the newcomer before turning his attention back to fight at hand. “Don’t worry.” he said to the Cyberdramon and the Meicrackmon, “Nothing gets through my shield.”


    // Elsewhere in Camelot…

    A Phantomon busied himself with his cleaning. His shop of endless curiosities was always busy on the night of any celebration. Tonight more so than ever. But the Phantomon known as Yuel Nyctus could feel something in the air today.

    Destiny was moving. Threads of fate being teased into or out of place. The data around him was practically humming with anticipation. Or dread. Or something altogether new. Yuel could care less which. But he knew that before the day was done he would have a new enigma to busy himself with.

    And he laughed, alone in the darkness of his shop and went about his work with renewed vigor.


    A Blubmon closed his cargo bay as the workers moved the last crate of supplies out and onto the streets. A parade meant a party. A party meant festivities. Festivities meant sales. The Bulbmon knew this well, and his shipping business had been working double overtime all week in preparation of this very day.

    Even now, The Bulbmon called Colossus Rhoades was still on the clock. Still moving last minute deliveries of fruit, bread, lamp oil, confetti, you name it. He’d even carried a few passengers.

    With his job completed, the Bulbmon de-digivolved in a flash back into his much more reasonably sized Guardromon form so he could process the payment. He didn’t know it yet, but his simple world of jobs and paychecks would soon change into something much more exciting.


    In the air above Camelot, a lone Airdramon flew about, watching the procession of angels moving down below. This wasn’t the actual parade of course, but the Airdramon named Tsukiko Hisakawa didn’t care. Angels were resplendent on every occasion and she didn’t want to miss a second of it.

    A Kabuterimon was hovering nearby, trying to chat her up. But she couldn’t even hear what he was saying. She was going to get to see the Royal Knights in person. Artorigus himself. In the flesh. This was a dream come true for her. And she wasn’t going to let anything, anything get in the way of it. Not sleep. Not food. And certainly not an annoying bug who thought she was cute.

    She didn’t know it yet, but the parade would only be the first step in a long journey for her. A trip to put even her globe trotting adventure to shame. Somewhere, down below in the city, she had a date with destiny.
    Last edited: Jun 27, 2019
  3. Kamotz

    Kamotz God of Monsters

    Gideon Ddraig (MetalGreymon)

    Gideon lumbered gingerly through the streets, navigating the outskirts of the security perimeter and checking in with the soldiers and lesser knights of the security detail. Gideon didn't quite understand the need for all this security. In any other case, of course it made sense to protect touring dignitaries. But the Royal Knights were their own deterrent. If the presence of a single Royal Knight could completely change the tide of battle and inspire unconditional surrender of an enemy force, then what kind of lunatic would attack all of them, together, in formation, at once?

    And who the hell were they to guard the Royal Knights? What were the odds that their entire security force could handle a threat that the Royal Knights couldn't? Gideon was never the most tactical or tactfull of Digimon, but even he could recognize this was all overkill. There was literally no safer place in the world right now.

    "We should've been sent to the outlying regions," Gideon muttered to himself, and nodded to another small platoon. Camelot was already land-locked. Any attack from outside the borders would've been reported. Any attack from within was attacking the Royal freakin' Knights. But the outlying regions? They could be attacked any minute by the Norsemen.

    Gideon sighed and soldiered on. He had to assume someone else had accounted for this. He was a dutiful soldier, and would perform his duties to the best of his ability. If that meant protecting the Royal Knights, he'd do it.

    He scanned the crowd, his systems whirled and beeped in his head - it was still something he was getting used to as a MetalGreymon, and he was glad for his eventual Digivolution to ShineGreymon down the line. He'd accessed that form only a handful of times, and only in the most dire circumstances, but the full-organic feeling was comforting.

    Still, the cybernetic components and the subsequent digital HUD had its advantages. Most importantly, he was able to absorb and process way more audio and visual input than he could in other forms. Gideon scanned the streets and a small warning flashed briefly across his vision before giving the all-clear. A cloaked Digimon moved through the crowd of onlookers. Not particularly odd, of course; why would his systems flag it with a warning?

    Gideon froze the image in his HUD and zoomed in. The Digimon's fur -- definitely a beast type Digimon -- was filthy. It'd traveled a long way; many had. There was nothing suspicious about that, except…Gideon noticed a strange set of geometric patterns swirled into the blue-gray fur. They were barely discernible, but Gideon would recognize them anywhere.

    Norse runes. There was a damned norseman in their midst.

    Gideon set his sights forward and followed the Digimon from a distance.


    Ragnar Ulrich (WereGarurumon)

    So this was Camelot. Now that he'd seen it, Ragnar didn't get what all the fuss was about. It was big, but that was about it. Different architecture, different building materials than, his home in the Norselands, but otherwise unremarkable. And it smelled. The acrid smell of ten thousand other Digimon piled and living on top of one another hung in the air like thick smoke and threatened to choke the breath from his lungs.

    He'd been to some truly destitute places in his life; sacked villages, slums, technocratic junk heaps -- but this was something else. This was a dump disguised as paradise, and no one seemed to realize it. Or at least, they all ignored it. It was suffocating here, more so than the other cities he had traveled through on his way down from the North. He hadn't realized how much he missed the crisp, cold air of his home.

    Ragnar tried to maneuver his way through the crowds. His cloak was filthy from his travels, his fur matted. Up to a point it would've served to camouflage the runic patterns in his fur and help him blend into the background, but he was no so disheveled that he was beginning to stand out. Other Digimon were giving him sideways glances as he moved through the streets. But he knew it was better to be mistaken for a beggar than a raider.

    As he maneuvered he caught the scent of something…distinct. In and of itself that was noteworthy. His sense of smell had been rendered nearly useless among the cluttered mess of these cities. Just about everything smelled like everything else, and it all smelled like garbage, sweat, and greed. But there was a distinct tang in the air now, one that Ragnar had become very accustomed to over his life.

    Blood. Freshly spilled.

    Ragnar turned quickly and followed the smell. He was grimly surprised that he could track it through the crowded streets, and he followed it through a number of side alleys, winding his way out and away from the parade route into the seedier parts of the city.


    Sorin Tolovar (Cerberumon X)

    He'd been tracking them for six days. He didn't know exactly who they were, but he had followed a trail of violence all the way from Rheged. Most of it was subtle; a few frightened townsfolk here, a few threatened Digimon there. But the rest was a bit less-so. A tavern burned to the ground, all evidence destroyed. A wooded cottage off the beaten path deserted except for shredded furniture and weapon marks everywhere. A child crying for parents who would never return.

    Sorin had caught wind of this group, tracked them through forests, marshlands, and mountains. There was a bounty -- not a huge one, of course, not with so little information available and very little proof -- but catching them was the first step in tying them to some more serious crimes. He could always argue for a greater bounty once that was done. He thought he'd lost them at the order of Gorre and Astolat as they wound into Gaunnes. For a few days he struggled to pick up their trail again, before finally catching wind of them at the border of Gaunnes, Astolat, and Logress. But most importantly, he'd picked up their scent.

    From there it was easy. He'd tracked them to Camelot, even though he was a few hours behind them. There were more of them than he'd initially thought. Quite a few more -- he could distinguish several distinct-but-similar scents from this band. It gave him pause, almost enough to reconsider his approach…almost. They moved too fast for him to really consider changing his course now. They moved as fast as him -- the only reason he'd caught up was because their numbers slowed them down.

    Sorin cut through the streets of Camelot, following their scent. He was close now, close enough to pick out specific individuals from among them. He was thankful for the cover the crowd provided. There were a lot more than he'd initially thought. So what were these cutthroats and murderers doing in Camelot today of all times and places? Were they really thinking of starting trouble when Artorigus and all the Royal Knights were present? Not to mention the hundreds of other soldiers in the area.

    A new smell tinged the air, and Sorin sped his way on. Blood...and also wine, but that was probably unrelated.

    Sorin heard some sounds; shouting, cries of pain, yelps from feral Digimon. He rounded a corner and dropped back into a network of dark and filthy alleyways. He slowed to glance around each corner, determined not to give his position away and lose the element of surprise. But what he found erased all notions of stealth from his mind.

    A Plutomon led a gang of Cerberumon and Dobermon. They were standing over a filthy-looking Gallantmon and across from a ragtag gang of other Digimon who were clearly ready to fight. A wildly-speculating part of him wondered briefly if this was Pluto Dis Pater, having survived the war, and their victim was the Royal Knight Gwalchmai. Sorin had never seen either of them up close, but it was a startling thought, one that he pushed aside with a scoff; if this was Gwalchmai then the whole city would know about it and a thousand soldiers would be out looking for him.

    "That explains how you managed to stay ahead of me for so long," Sorin snarled, stepping out into the alley. He stood with the Cerberumon gang on his left and the motley crew on his right and glared at his targets while he flexed his claws. "I've been looking for you."


    Traft Ostegard (Aegiochusmon)

    Traft joined with the church procession and made his way towards the center of the city. He was not a member of this specific congregation, of course, but his travels often brought him into contact with the clergy and various diocese. With the parade scheduled at the same time he was set to make his way through Camelot it only made sense to go. The local church had extended an offer to join them. And it was better than watching a parade alone.

    So Traft had joined the procession from the cathedral to the parade route; not with the clergy, of course, but with the rest of the congregation. They kept a wary distance from him, but he was used to that. His form was one that drew derision and scorn from the general populace, even after three decades of peace, anyone who even reminded the people of their former Olympian overlords was kept at arm's length.

    Traft had accepted this as his lot in life. He knew this was a lesson from Yggdrasil to teach him humility, to teach him resilience, and make him better. He sighed, it didn't make it much easier though. Try as he might, the looks of disdain from everyone, even those who should have been his friends, got to him.

    He hung back to let the rest of the congregation move forward without him. All he wanted was to do some good to help those around him see and experience the light of Yggdrasil, just as he did. The church should have been different, at least. He was an outsider to this congregation, sure, but he was just as devoted as they were. Didn't that common ground count for more than the accident of his birth?

    Traft sighed. It was all a bit too suffocating today. He crouched down and launched himself high into the air. He let the cool breeze sweep over him, then angled his descent to land on the rooftops along the street. From higher up he could see just how many other Digimon had flocked to Camelot for the event. He wanted a closer look; he bunched up his legs again and sprinted forward, dashing over tiled rooftops with ease.

    When Traft glanced up, he saw that at least one other Digimon had thought to do the same. A Cyberdramon carried a small package, leaping from roof to roof, propelled by a few quick flaps of his wings. But the other Digimon suddenly stopped and dropped down below the roofline. Traft hesitated for a moment; it wasn't an altogether unusual event, but the suddenness of the change felt...off.

    He glanced around and decided then to satiate his curiosity. He leaped over, springing from rooftop to rooftop, his hooves clattering gracefully over uneven footholds and sliding tiles. Traft saw, out of the corner of his eye, another form keeping pace with him below in the crowd. A dark figure in sharp-armor wove his way through the mob of Digimon, closing in on the same general area that the Cyberdramon had disappeared into.

    "Sorin?" he wondered aloud, and picked up his pace. He lost Sorin briefly, but then found him and a group of other Digimon in a back alley.

    Traft launched himself into the air, twisting and flipping. He came down hard in the alleyway, directly across from Sorin, on the other side of the strange group of demon dogs, cyborg dragons, and...this really was a strange collection of Digimon.

    "Sorin. What are you doing here?" Traft asked. There had clearly been some sort of commotion not long ago.

    "Lookin' for them," Sorin nodded towards the Cerberumon group with a scowl. "The hell are you doing here?"

    Traft wondered how to answer -- I saw you and this Cyberdramon, thought you looked suspicious, and followed you?

    "Always above questioning, aren't you?" Sorin snarled back.

    Traft took a better look at the Digimon around him. A Gallantmon lay beaten on the ground. The demon dogs and a...a Plutomon?! Traft wheeled about. "Are you with them?" he demanded.

    "None of your business," Sorin growled. "Stay out of my way."


    Reynard Pentaghast (Matadormon)

    "I still don't understand why we can't just go see the parade," Reynard asked with a sigh. He hop-skipped down the streets with Dakkon right on his heels. Reynard wove between oncoming pedestrians, leaving Dakkon to force his way through. The knight-in-training was still so clumsy by comparison.

    "You're a known and wanted bandit lord," Dakkon shouted, shoving his way past a rather large Mojyamon.

    "I'm a former assumed bandit lord," Reynard corrected him. He walked backwards for a few feet, dodging more Digimon with his deft footwork. "You cleared me on those charges."

    "The law cleared you, not me," Dakkon said with a huff. "Everyone knows you were a bandit."

    "Allegedly," Reynard said, waving his hand dismissively. "But if we can't get up close with your good connections, what's the point of even coming?"

    "We're here to support the lords of the realm and make sure everything goes off without incident," Dakkon said. They'd emerged into a wider lane and were able to now walk side-by-side. "Even if that means I have to babysit you."

    "Do you really think I'd try something here?" Reynard asked.

    "Against the Royal Knights? No," said Dakkon. "But against some common folk? One can never be too sure."

    "You wound me, Sir Knight," Reynard said, feigning hurt. "I'll have you know that I have only ever, rarely, sometimes conned or swindled the common people...if I was bored. And it looked like I could get away with it. Or fight my way out."

    "Well this time if you want to fight your way out you'll have to go through me," Dakkon said with a sigh.

    "Lucky for me, you've never beaten me," Reynard pointed out.

    "Same goes for you," Dakkon said. "We'll watch the parade from one of the rooftops over here." Dakkon led them away from the main parade route and down into a more removed set of alleyways.

    "Ugh, you're no fun," Reynard scoffed. "It's no wonder I'm your only friend."

    "You're not my only friend,"

    "Fine. It's no wonder you have no friends," Reynard corrected himself. "I was trying to be generous," he muttered.

    "I have friends," Dakkon said through gritted teeth.

    "Name one."

    "I'll name three!"

    "Those fiery things that fly around you when you digivolve don't count," Reynard pointed out. "They wouldn't exist without you; they have to like you."

    Dakkon snapped his mouth shut with an audible click and Reynard couldn't stop his belly laugh. It was always too easy to ruffle Dakkon's big red cape.

    "This is boring. What are we even doing anymore?" Reynard groaned as they left the parade route entirely and wandered a back alley.

    "We're going to watch the parade," Dakkon said through gritted teeth. "And keep you out of trouble."

    "But we won't see anything from over here," Reynard protested. "I wanted to see some fancy lords and --"

    "Pickpocket them?" Dakkon accused.

    "No, of course not," Reynard waved him off. "But if we got the chance to swindle some rich women out of their money, I wouldn't say no. Would you?"

    "Of course I would!"

    "Naturally," Reynard rolled his eyes. So predictable. "Well then can't we do something else, too? I need some excitement in my life. Maybe we could --"

    Reynard cut himself short as they rounded an alley corner and found themselves staring down a whole mess of other Digimon. Demon dogs, a dragon, some strange...other Digimon. Reynard was never very good identifying or caring about what other Digimon were.

    "What the --?" Dakkon stuttered.

    "Oh, yes. This looks much better than some stuffy parade," Reynard said. He glanced around quickly. "Should we find somewhere to sit? I'd really like to watch this."


    Dakkon Redblade (SaviorHackmon)

    He'd only wanted to see the procession. And keep Reynard out of trouble. His superiors had been lenient on the once-bandit given his cult-like following, but they'd warned him that any escalation of Reynard's usual tendencies would land him in a mess of trouble. Dakkon had grown rather…"fond" was too strong a word, but maybe...respectful of the Matadormon. He was much more clever than he let on and a dozen times more dangerous than that.

    Reynard was the only Digimon that Dakkon had never been able to defeat, and who in turn had never defeated Dakkon. They were as deadlocked as it came.

    And there was a grudging respect between them, even if Reynard needled him at every turn. They'd met up outside of Camelot yesterday, purely by chance, and Dakkon knew Reynard would behave himself better if he was along for the ride.

    He'd just wanted to see the parade. What could possibly go wrong?

    "Should we find somewhere to sit? I'd really like to watch this."

    Dakkon readied his wrist-blades. "I think the situation has escalated a good deal past that," he said. "In the name of Galahad, Lord of Astolat, I order you to lower your weapons and disengage. All of you. There doesn't need to be --"

    "Norsemen in the city!" a booming voice shouted from above. A huge orange form came crashing down into the wide alley. The impact of the Digimon landing knocked Dakkon off his feet. The MetalGreymon in question wheeled around and opened the gunports on its chest.

    "Everyone settle down! This Norseman is coming with --" the cyborg dragon stopped. "Wait. Where'd he go? He was headed right this way. Who are all of you and what did you do with him?"
  4. Solsabre

    Solsabre The Reforged Soul

    Camelot Alleys

    Heavy armored boots clattered across paved stone in an unsteady stride. Pain shot through his side with every step like hot iron. His arm pressed close to the gash in his side. His breath was ragged from pain and fatigue. The exhausted Gallantmon forced himself to keep moving with urgency, despite the heaviness of his limbs.

    How? how? HoW? hOw? how...

    Two weeks. He’d managed to shake the Plutomon and his pack that long ago. Believing himself safe from one danger, he started to breath more easily.. But the Plutomon had antipacited him, waiting in ambush miles outside from this...city? Images of a cityscape bled through his mind trying to recall its significance, but his attempts at remembering were interrupted by the gleeful howls of the hounds.

    Daylight had started creeping around the horizon hours earlier, when the dark-clad knight sought to evade the hunting party in the city’s twisting streets. A mistake. Too many digimon. Far too many.

    Nearly running headlong in a thick crowd, the Gallantmon pivoted sharply to the right into a narrow, dark alley between two shops he spotted. However, his quick maneuver didn’t fool his pursuers. The smaller Dobermon easily kept pace in the tight alley. The fleeing knight darted left as the alleyway opened up, grabbing a stack of crates to knock over behind him. A Cerebumon burst through the fallen boxes like tissue, nearly bowling him over. Offbalanced, the knight stumbled across the cobblestone, throwing out a hand to keep himself from colliding with a nearby building.

    The feral snarling spurred the Gallantmon on, despite his body demanding him to stop. Glancing over his shoulder, he didn’t see the smaller figure rounding the same corner he was approaching. The pair were sent crashing into the ground, liquid splashing all over him. Pain shot up his injured side, forcing him to drop his lance and pressed his arm against the wound. The deep gash from the Plutomon’s claws bled crimson on his cape, mixing with the stain of the sweet smelling wine.

    “How unfortunate,” the Plutomon growled, the words like blades torn from his throat. “I hoped to avoid witnesses.”

    The dark-cladded knight’s head shot up, a mild panic forming. The Plutomon was speaking to a feline-like digimon- a Meicrackmon- on the ground beside him.

    “I'll make this quick, girl,” the Plutomon said with a cold chuckle. “Curse your ill fate.” He took a step forward.

    No! He tried to push himself to his armored feet, but the exhaustion and pain temporarily robbed him of his strength. Then the light filtering in between the rooftops blotted out, a winged dramon-a Cyberdramon- with a long red scarf dropped down from above and stood between him and his pursuers.

    An exchange of words carried on, but the fallen knight couldn’t concentrate on what was being said. The abrupt stop caused his fatigue to finally catch up with him, feeling lightheaded and dizzy. His discarded lance laid only a few feet from him. The Gallantmon feebly reached for it, only for agony to rip through his injured side again.

    The Plutomon’s growling dragged the Gallantmon back to the present. “Urgh! It doesn't matter! No witnesses!” He pointed a claw at the three of him “Kill them!”

    The Cyberdramon caught a charging Dobermon in its toothy jaws before tossing it aside into another canine. The Meicrackmon jumped into action as well, her sharp claws extended. “I can help you.”

    The Gallantmon stared at the pair in horror and disbelief. He raised a hand as if to stop them, but it dropped back to his side. No..he couldn’t let them risk themselves...not on his account. “Stop...get out of here while you can…”

    His words might have well fell on deaf ears. Two more digimon barged into the wide alley, apparently hearing the commotion. A RaijiLudomon intercepted a Dobermon jumping midair and sent the canine crashing into the side of the alley. Battered metal boots entered the Gallantmon’s field of vision.

    “I’m here to help.”A Knightmon said plainly, offering his hand to the wounded knight. For a split second, the offered hand recoiled when their eyes met. The Gallantmon grimaced and looked away, recognizing the expression of shock and wariness often sent his way. However, he was in for his own shock when the Knightmon extended his hand fully, “Can you stand?”

    The Gallantmon stared at the offered hand confused and warily. He raised a hand halfway, hesitantly, as if afraid the Knightmon’s hand would suddenly attack him. Instead, the dark-armored knight fumbled for his discarded lance, using it to steady himself as he rose to stand. Even now on his feet, he sagged heavily against a wall.

    “I-I’m fine,” he lied, breathing ragged breaths. His vision swam, threatening to send him teetering over again. He gestured to the two dramon and Meicrackmon. “They’ll need you more.”

    The dark Gallantmon scanned the alleyway, searching for a way out. He couldn’t stay here. Too many people had seen him. Too many people could get hurt because of him. His eyes darted between the combatants and the way out of the alley. Guilt gnawed at him. He had an opportunity to sneak away, while they fought. But…

    The Gallantmon never got the chance to finish that thought as all hell broke loose. Several more digimon charged into the scene, yelling different things. Topping it all off, a massive MetalGreymon dropped in from the sky, yelling, "Norsemen in the city!"

    The MetalGreymon in question wheeled around and opened the gunports on its chest.

    "Everyone settle down! This Norseman is coming with --" the cyborg dragon stopped. "Wait. Where'd he go? He was headed right this way. Who are all of you and what did you do with him?"
  5. Griff4815

    Griff4815 No. 1 Grovyle Fan

    Coralia Ceto (Scorpiomon)
    Camelot City Streets

    The rattling of about a dozen blades against stone filled the air around her. Cora scuttled down a busy, Camelot street, her legs quickly tapping against the ground as she hurried down the road. In each of her mandibles was a half-shell clam from which she sucked the slippery, rich, seafoody goodness into her mouth.

    "Mmm, delicious!" she exclaimed, tossing an empty shell over her shoulder, inadvertently causing it to bounce off a Gladimon's helmet. "I love Camelot! The food here is so good! And there's so many interesting people!"

    As Cora slurped up the innards of another mollusk, she began to think to herself. "Hmm, but which way is it to the Royal Knight parade?" she wondered.

    The city was so big and flat. It wasn't like Atlantis, where you could swim vertically and diagonally. Everybody was walking and pushing on the same streets, so there were lots of Digimon concentrated in the same places. It was easy to get lost in the crowds, especially in the middle of a festival.

    Cora frowned and squeezed past some Digimon as she walked down the street, careful of her bladed legs and fins. "The smart thing to do would be to follow the crowd, but there's crowd's everywhere..." she murmured pensively.

    Being new to the city, Cora didn't know what streets the parade would be held on, nor where those streets even were. She couldn't help but feel daunted by the big city and all of the Digimon.

    She looked up at the sky and spotted an Airdramon flying in the distance. "If only I could do that. It would be much easier to find out where I am..." she dreamily said.

    However, Cora wouldn't be deterred. She would watch this famous parade no matter what! And she would also find a nearby snack stall!

    Cora marched deeper into the heart of Camelot. She tried to follow the crowd of Digimon, but she still couldn't find the area that would surely be cordoned off for the parade. She had walked for a good fifteen minutes, but she didn't feel like she was making any progress.

    "I know!" she remarked triumphantly. "I'll ask somebody for directions!"

    But who should she ask? Cora began looking around the streets from the corner of an intersection. The first Digimon that caught her eye was a bright, gold, humanoid, whose metallic body shimmered like a radiant star.

    Cora's eyes immediately widened, and she couldn't help but find the Duramon's shiny luster quite pretty. "I know! I'll ask that person!" she declared like it was the best idea she ever thought up.

    The Scorpiomon crossed the street, excusing herself as she cut in front of a Monochromon. She scuttled in front of the Duramon's path and waved her large flipper. Cora shot her a large smile to the best of her ability.

    "Um, hi! Excuse me! You seem confident and like you know where you're going! Are you here for the parade too? Can you tell me where it is? My name's Cora, by the way! Um, what's yours?" she asked the Duramon in rapid succession.
  6. storymasterb

    storymasterb Knight of RPGs

    Yamato Takeshi (Cyberdramon)
    Camelot Alleys

    Yamato balled his claws into a fist and struck. His blow knocked a Cerberumon reeling, but as it flew back, the Plutomon came in snarling. Hellfire licked at the fangs in all its maws as the dark shadow of Pluto Dis Pater lashed with barbed claws. The Cyberdramon danced back, his scarf billowing as he moved. He sensed the Meicrackmon just behind him and couldn't hide his smile. He'd thought she was a damsel in distress, but here she was holding her own.

    "Where did you all come from?" the Plutomon demanded in a growl. Indeed, suddenly the alley was very full of Digimon indeed.

    "You picked a poor day to do this, it seems," his opponent laughed. "But tell me. What cause led you to chase this poor soul into the very streets of Camelot? And what is your name?"

    "I am Cwn Annwn!" the hellhound knight barked. "But you shall learn nothing more but the name of your killer! Haggard Cluster!" With a roar, Cwn Annwn lashed a bolt of darkness at the Cyberdramon, tossing Yamato back into the Meicrackmon. She yelped as he struck her, their impact coincidentally sending a Dobermon reeling.

    "Sorry," Yamato said to her as he recovered, keeping a wary eye on the Plutomon. Around them the fighting continued, until a MetalGreymon crashed down and yelled something about Norsemen. Cwn Annwn looked furious and defeated in equal measure by this point, staring at the mass of Digimon in disbelief. "So much for no witnesses, I suppose," the Cyberdramon quipped.

    "This is not over," the Plutomon growled.

    "You'd be surprised how many Digimon have said that to me," Yamato chuckled, before hardening his demeanour. "All of them soon found that it was indeed over. And you will be no different."

    The dark knight laughed. "You have no idea what you're dealing with, Cyberdramon. And all of you." He scanned the group coldly. "You will regret interfering. I swear that to the utmost." He spread his arms as his pack returned to his side, several limping where blows had struck true. "Hell's Gate!" Darkness burst around the Plutomon and wrapped his group in its folds like a curtain. When it had passed, they were gone.


    Shamsiel (Meicrackmon)
    Camelot Alleys

    Shamsiel stared at the empty space where the hellhounds had been for a surprised moment, before slumping to her knees. She was trembling with adrenaline, a wholly unfamiliar feeling. She wasn't a fighter and yet somehow instinct had seen her through.

    "You're hurt." She looked up to see the heroic Cyberdramon stood over her, gazing down through his silver visor. He gestured to her arm, and indeed there was a bite there oozing blood. One of the Dobermon had caught it, she recalled, and she guessed that the thrill of battle had dulled the pain.

    "Thank you," she murmured, bowing her head in reflex. The stench of wine filled her nostils and a groan escaped her. No. The wine. The wine that Sarathiel had specifically sent her to retrieve. And it was all over her, the street, the dark Gallantmon...

    The dark Gallantmon. She whirled to face him and saw a Knightmon there. The dark Gallantmon was leaning against a wall, breathing heavily and using his lance to stay upright. But as her eyes regarded him, Shamsiel found him almost painful to stare at. It was like when she tried to meet his gaze, his body blurred and distorted and suddenly her eyes had slipped to the right and found the wall instead. She forced herself to correct her gaze, but it happened again the instant she stopped focusing.

    The Cyberdramon meanwhile was taking in the horde that had filled the alley. "Ah, MetalGreymon," he said in that smooth cordial tone. "You said something about a Norseman? I fear you have come to the wrong place for that, though as you doubtless saw, there were certainly some villains on the prowl." He gestured at where Cwn Annwn and his hounds had been.

    Shamsiel was suddenly conscious of the Duramon beside her. "Forgive me," she said, turning to them. "Thank you very much for your assistance." She turned next to the Knightmon. "You as well, good ser. Thank you." Now she turned to the dark Gallantmon, forcing herself to keep looking at her. "Are you okay?" she asked him, before flinching as she realised how stupid a question it was. "Sorry... what's your name?"
    Last edited: Nov 12, 2019
  7. Solsabre

    Solsabre The Reforged Soul

    Camelot Backalleys

    “Hell’s Gate!”

    Darkness swept through the alleyway as the Plutomon and his minions vanished, but it made little difference to him. His eyes were clenched shut with pain. If not for the wall behind him, he would have collapsed in a heap on the ground. The voices of the other digimon in the alley were muddled to him, even as he tried to focus.

    "Are you okay?"

    The Gallantmon cracked his eyes open. The Meicrackmon stared at him with concern. Why did she look at him like that? He turned his head aside, not trusting what he saw on her face. The simple motion made him feel sick.

    “Sorry...what’s your name?”

    Random images flashed through his mind, digimon speaking to him in various instances. Their lips formed the same word repeatedly, but the scenes were without sound or meaning. Even what memories he could dredge up where out of order like a mixed deck of cards, all jumbled up. Since he’d awoken to this form in the midst of a fire and explosions, very little had made sense to the dark Gallantmon.

    The dark-armored knight shook his blue-and-black helm, disregarding the Meicrackmon’s question. “You need to forget about me.” He waved an unsteady arm through the air horizontally. “Return to your homes and lives.” The effort to speak was exhausting. His adrenaline from the chase was fading rapidly and with it the strength keep upright.

    “That Plutomon...” The words died on his lips as he realized just how many digimon where actually in the alley. All their eyes laid into him. Exposed. Naked. Vulnerable. He pulled the dirty gray cloak, he’d scavenged early on, across his chest in a futile attempt to hide the strangeness of his armor. Then he froze when he saw it.

    The crest worn by the Saviorhackmon and MetalGreymon.

    Panic rose up within him. He tried moving along the brick wall to get away from the Meicrackmon and Knightmon standing near him, but his body wouldn’t budge. Every part of him felt too heavy to move. Blue lightning bolts started to emit wildly from his lance in response to his stress.

    “No!” He exclaimed, throwing the lance to the ground as far as he could, halting the electrical charge to his weapon. But he also tossed away the only thing keeping him on his feet.

    “No, not here... not again...” he muttered weakly, sinking to the ground while clutching his lance-bearing hand to his chest. Blue bolts of erratic energy danced along the limb. It took every last ounce of his remaining strength to suppress it.

    The final energy bolt vanished, the arm falling limp in his lap. Every muscle in his body ached and pain shot up his side where it continued to bleed. He was spent.

    And he was at their mercy.
  8. TheSequelReturns

    TheSequelReturns Phantom Thief

    // Magnus Strand (RaijiLudomon)
    // Camelot City

    "Norsemen in the city!" a Metal Greymon shouted as he crashed down into the middle of the alleyway.

    Magnus' heart nearly leapt out of his chest. Was Kat found out? Was she okay? Was this guy here to get him?

    But the dramon's eyes passed right over him without incident and Magnus held back a sigh of relief. Just what kind of trouble had he wandered into? Kat was going to give him no end of grief when he finally made his way back to the inn. But he would deal with that later.

    He turned his attention instead to the little angel he had defended. What in the world had she done to anger professional bounty hunters? She didn't seem particularly dangerous. Was it just wrong place, wrong time and the true quarry was the armored digimon back in the alley? Nothing about this situation made any sense.

    "Ah, MetalGreymon," a Cyberdramon said. He had been on the scene before Magnus did. "You said something about a Norseman? I fear you have come to the wrong place for that, though as you doubtless saw, there were certainly some villains on the prowl."

    Magnus nodded. "Yes, quite. It says a lot about this city that so many would come to a strangers aid."

    "Thank you very much for your assistance." the little angel offered, thanking some of the others in turn.

    Magnus nodded curtly, "Of course."


    // Caius Osmond (Knightmon)
    // Camelot City

    "You as well, good ser. Thank you." the angel offered.

    Caius nodded solemnly, but his attention was still on the Gallantmon.

    The man was... Caius didn't have the words to describe the feeling he got as he looked at him. Or rather, tried to look at him. The moment he stopped studying his armor, the second his focus wavered, his gaze would slip elsewhere. It was as if his mind was refusing to acknowledge the Gallantmon's existence unless he forced it to. This was not natural. This was the work of corruption, of sorcery, of some unknown dark force. Caius didn't know. But he also did not fear the unknown. Fear was a weapon. And you never let someone else, or something else, take control of a weapon.

    He watched as the angel tried to speak with him, as the strange Gallantmon began to descend into what could only be called a panic attack, and realized just how little he understood what was happening here. Blue lightning began to arc across his lance. Then his arm. By any other standard, it looked like an attack was building. But those eyes... the Gallantmon's eyes were on himself, not those standing around.

    When he finally thew down his weapon and his arm went limp, Caius let out a pent up breath and returned his own short sword into its sheath. He should help the Gallantmon. The poor soul was clearly troubled. But whatever foul powers had affected him were obviously still at work. Would they infect Caius as well, if he reached out and touched him?

    "Do any of you know what whichery has befallen this poor soul?" he asked the group. He scanned the group for a moment, his eyes landing on the small angel that seemed to be at the center of all this. "You, angel, what can you speak on this matter?"


    // Katarina Akerman (Duramon)
    // Camelot City

    Katarina was rather enjoying some time to herself after a long night of negotiations. Espionage and subterfuge have this nice, exciting ring to them when you first hear them. Until you find out that it mostly involves staying at cheap inns, eating cheap food, avoiding anything that could remotely be called fun, and spending long nights discussing the intricacies of international economics.

    Not for the first time, she wondered what the rest of her family was up to. It was probably better than this.

    Now which way was it to the inn again? This city was like a maze. But she knew well enough from her travels thus far that walking around looking lost was a fantastic way to get mugged. Sometimes, it was best to pick a familiar looking path and just walk forward as confidently as possible. After all, you can't get lost if you already don't know where you are.

    Kat was doing just that when a little, buggish Scorpiomon scuttled up in front of her and waved her... arm? around excitedly. Kat raised a brow, not sure what to expect.

    "Um, hi! Excuse me! You seem confident and like you know where you're going! Are you here for the parade too? Can you tell me where it is? My name's Cora, by the way! Um, what's yours?" she asked in rapid succession.

    Wow, the shrimp could talk a mile a minute. But she seemed harmless enough. "You can call me Kat." she offered. "And as for directions..." Katarina tried to get her bearings, but the tall, cramped buildings made that difficult. Damn these big cites and their tight spaces. It was enough to make her feel claustrophobic.

    "Well, your guess is as good as mine, but if your looking for the parade just follow the crowds. It seems like the whole country is in town to watch the parade." A quiet moment passed and neither of them moved. "Tell you what, I don't much care to wander these back allies alone and I'm trying to get back to my inn. Why don't you tag along for now and we'll see if we can't find the main-road together. Sound fair?"
    Last edited: Dec 3, 2019

Share This Page