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When Walls Crumble [RP Thread] [R] [Private Fantasy RP]

Discussion in 'Role-Playing Games' started by Tangeh, Dec 10, 2017.

  1. Vern

    Vern Why not both?

    Sullivan Van Daal
    Seaside Village - Eastern District


    Cackling like some sort of stereotypical supervillain, Sullivan theatrically slams his right palm on the ground and unleashes a wave of lightning from his body, sending the three Lochesterian guards around him flying backwards. It had been a long time since he had been able to cut loose like this, and he relished the opportunity to exercise his own power. With an almost elegant movement, he steps forward and knees a guard in the stomach, then grabbing onto the back of the man's neck, shocking him with as much voltage as he could safely muster, and slamming him brutally into the ground, knocking him unconscious, maybe forever.

    Around him, the battle seemed to be coming to a close, with the Lochesterians suffering a sound defeat. Sullivan raises his right hand and fires off a few lightning bolts in the general direction of the fleeing soldiers - they miss, but the loud crackling sound they make as they hit the ground and walls of nearby buildings result in a series of rather amusingly undignified screams. With a few mocking chuckles, (and some mild shocks administered to a couple of Lochesterian guards who were playing dead), he saunters back to where he had left his mask and finished wine-bottle, picking them both up and returning them to their respective pockets in his cloak.

    Glancing over his shoulder, he begins walking at a decently fast pace away from the scene. It would be a good idea to get out of here before the Princess and her guards fully recovered into their normal state of mind - he had done a lot of questionable things over the course of his life, and had a decently good idea of what exactly was legal and what wasn’t. And while he was pretty sure that if they hadn’t stepped in, things would have ended very badly, randomly stepping into a street brawl and causing a decent amount of damage to surrounding buildings, as well as potentially killing some people, wasn’t exactly the kind of thing most legal systems would tolerate. Just as he moves to disappear into a nearby alleyway, though, the princess’s voice stops him.

    "Cleared, of all charges, both of them - all of them,” she says, the words ringing out clearly over the now quietened surroundings. "How dare you attempt to arrest them - honestly, sometimes I wonder…"

    Cleared? Sullivan raises an eyebrow in surprise, then smirks. Interesting. Maybe I’ll hang around after all.

    “You, you, you, you, you, you, you, and you.” The princess commands, pointing towards the eight people who had stepped into the battle, “Step forward, please.” Sullivan turned around, quickly glanced around him, and obstinately didn’t step forward. And then, amidst the murmuring of her own guards, she sheathed her sword and curtsied politely - this only served to widen Sullivan’s smirk of amusement, and dispel any remaining thoughts of making a run for it before he got sucked into a vortex he couldn’t escape from. "I did not call on any of you to assist my army in battle, but had you not, this could have been a very different outcome. Yloria owes you a great debt. As Princess of this kingdom, I offer you my sincere thanks. That said… Guards, you are dismissed.”

    Sullivan’s eyes widen slightly, and he lets out a sharp, incredulous laugh.

    "Go back to the capital and deliver the Lochesterian soldiers as I told you.” The Princess continues, causing her personal bodyguard to offer an expression of confusion, surprise, and discontent, "After this nearly horrendous defeat, I think a drastic change of tactic is in order.”

    All right, go with the flow, pretend to be a madman - I can respect that. Sullivan chuckles to himself. Although it might be a good idea to get out before she attempts to conscript us or something.

    "You eight," Gwen continued, "are now legally conscripted to accompany and guard me to Lochester's Capital.”

    Crap. He sighs, chuckling again, There goes that opportunity.

    "I merely seek council with the royalty there, not a bloodbath. That said, I don't expect it to be a walk in the park, hence I need assistance.”

    "You think this wise?” Her bodyguard says, raising his voice slightly in concern. "We don't know the background of any of these people - and werewolves, black mages...?"

    "Precisely,” The princess replies, "Lochester has spent so long trying to rid their walls of all minority races that they clearly have no idea how to face them in combat. They don't train with them, after all. It's as if they don't exist - well they're about to get a rude awakening, aren't they?" She smirked confidently back at the commander, who offered some sort of indignant reply, and was promptly rebuked - physically - for it by the guard who had bound him.

    You know, I’m beginning to like this woman. Sullivan thinks as the princess starts talking about being heroes, Nevertheless, I could hardly agree to this - it’s too risky. Unless she offers us some sort of compensation, I-

    “...Of course, I will guarantee a handsome reward as well…”

    Holy ****, it’s like she can read my mind.

    "The royal ship is docked nearby. My personal guard, Sir Emerick, will captain it.” The princess began walking away, then paused and turned, almost as an afterthought. "Oh, and be sure to introduce yourselves to me and to each other. Would be quite the awkward journey otherwise." She gave a short laugh and continued walking, her bodyguard quickly falling into step next to her, leaving the dumbfounded, newly conscripted ragtag bunch of adventurers standing there trying to make sense of the situation.

    Now - if I wanted to, I could still get away. Sullivan thinks, glancing over his shoulder at the alleyway. But he realises that he has no desire to make a break for it - if anything, the offered reward, along with his curiosity and adventurelust, had dispelled whatever doubts remained. With the money, he might be able to change his name, disappear, and go to Zlelmore - and maybe find Iris again. Settling down - even for just a bit - after giving the Lochesterian nobility a sound ***-kicking may not be so much of a impossibility. Of course, He shrugs, it’s not like I care.

    Slipping his hands into his pockets, he steps forward and falls into step a decent distance behind the princess, heading for the ship in the docks. He watched as the hooded figure from earlier, now revealed to be a vampire, voiced his concerns, to which the purple haired girl bluntly countered by stating the alternative was the dungeons. The monk who had chopped of a man’s head was similarly distraught, but eventually seemed to give in, introducing himself as Stupidly Long Name who hails from some monastery in Zlelmore. For a moment, Sullivan considers asking for one of the Apothecary’s healing potions (she had been the only person who seemed relatively lighthearted about the whole conscription business) but decided against it. If there was one thing travelling for so long taught him, it was to avoid being in other people’s debts. Besides, his injuries were small, and he could deal with them. He had suffered worse than some bruises and a couple of shallow cuts.

    Besides him, the werewolf woman who had taken up the task of mutilating the Lochesterian commander after he had finished doing so himself was launching into a long, rather passionate rant. "People become heroes because in the end, they choose to.” She was saying - a statement that made Sullivan cringe a little. He had never believed in heroism, and anything about duty and doing good grated slightly on his ears. "We aren't beneath you in that we're incapable of using our own heads.”

    Swerving slightly away from his original path in order to get closer to the werewolf, Sullivan clicks his tongue. Something about the content of her speech stirred an uncomfortable feeling of irritation in him, and made him want to offer some sort of rebuttal. As the werewolf talked about her past, he moves to stand slightly behind her, still driven by a vague sense of annoyance, waiting for her to finish.

    “But I want you to choose for yourself. Would you really be fine with someone like me guarding you?” The werewolf says, "Name's Sylvia by the way. Sylvia Edelstein...but if I knew my father, it probably would be something different.”

    Seeing his chance to interject, Sullivan quickly moves to take it. “Look, Miss,” he says, quickening his pace to overtake her and turning around, “You’ve been through Lochester’s dungeons - you should know that in cases like these you take what's offered to you. Princess there - she hired us as mercenaries. If you don’t like the hero crap, call it a strictly professional relationship - she did offer us a reward. Besides," he laughs, "You looked like you've been waiting for a seriously long time for a chance to sock those idiots a good one.”

    “Your past - nobody here cares.” He continues. “She obviously doesn’t, considering she conscripted us on the spot. She doesn’t give a crap about how the king pardoned you, she cares about your usefulness as a tool. Forget the moral side of things - that doesn’t matter. Ideals of heroism will only get you killed. Free will is a gift, not a right. If you don’t like it, run now - you still have time.”

    His own outburst seems to have cooled his annoyance, and all of a sudden, Sullivan feels calmer - even in a good mood. “That aside,” he says with a grin, “The name’s Sullivan. As a fellow Lochesterian outlaw, I look forward to working with you. I mean, you’ve got nothing to do here anyway besides sit in a cell and rot - Why not just relax, and take the opportunity to enjoy yourself?” With that, he extends a hand towards the death knight, tilting his head to the side in an invitation of sorts.
     
  2. Tangeh

    Tangeh Well-Known Member

    Princess Gwendolyn
    Seaside Village - Eastern District


    The Princess hadn't even made it ten paces before the hooded figure caught up and matched her pace. “Excuse me, my lady." Gwendolyn turned and started, eying the stranger up and down. She hadn't noticed there was a vampire amongst their group, but made no comment. Sir Emerick grumbled his disapproval but otherwise also remained silent. "But surely you cannot just shanghai people? Did it occur to you that we might be on missions of our own? I for one, have a missing person to look for. . . Or that we might not even be citizens of your kingdom? I appreciate the pardon, I do. . . but I doubt you can simply compel a citizen of Khusha to do your bidding. . . Not to mention the error of judgment. Please forgive my saying so, but you want us on your boat when you don't know the first thing about us?”

    This prompted a comment from the other dark mage, though it wasn't exactly defending the Princess's action so much as resigning herself to her fate and encouraging the others to do the same. Hm, she'd hoped her speech would have garnered a bit more enthusiasm. She hadn't counted on the group being composed of unwilling participants.

    The werewolf with the magically imbued scythe approached next, and Gwen quickly picked up on her body language to determine she was as equally unimpressed as the others. "Hey, nice speech and all, but did you just play that 'I'm a Princess, my word is law' card? Sure, we're in your turf, but what makes you think that binding us right here and now without giving us a choice would make us obey immediately?!" the blue-haired Death Knight voiced out, crossing her arms. "Look, your ideals are noble and you're not a bad person. Far from it. I'm probably a worse person than you are and I've seen what terrible is, most of them from damn Lochester, but being a princess is not a ****ing excuse to rob others of their freedom to make decisions and subtly threaten imprisonment if they don't follow. People become heroes because in the end, they choose to. We aren't beneath you in that we're incapable of using our own heads. Besides, wouldn't you at least want to know who we are and where we're from before doing anything stupid? What if some of us were Lochesterian assassins, out for your head?" She taunted, before shaking her head and sighing, raising her branded knuckles for the princess to see. "Look. Seven years ago, I was thrown into Lochester's royal dungeons and was spared the blade by the dead king himself for some reason, all within the span of thirteen days. Ever heard of that story? I'm not ashamed of who the hell I am, I sure could use a pardon and I know my way around Lochester, but I want you to choose for yourself. Would you really be fine with someone like me guarding you?" she asked. "Name's Sylvia by the way. Sylvia Edelstein...but if I knew my father, it probably would be something different."

    This in turn prompted some semi-defensive, semi-demeaning comments from the electric mage. She heard Sir Emerick shift uneasily when he accused her as using them as tools, perhaps anticipating what was technically her entire army enacting their own mini-revolution against her, but Gwen held up her hand as a signal to wait. The wind-wielding cleric ("Brother Genma Valerious Windcaller the Third" - drat, it was annoying when those with terribly long names failed to mention their preferred shortened form. A constant problem with the lesser-known members of royalty. Come to think of it, perhaps she should properly introduce herself...) was making some annoyed comments as well, while the potion-wielder - Lynn - at least seemed to have made peace with the situation. Peace may just be the point she'd have to live with. She wasn't here to make friends, but she couldn't risk making enemies either.

    Princess Gwendolyn huffed and stepped toward them. Sir Emerick stepped forward as well. "My lady, you have no obligation to explain your actions. It is not their place to question you - as suggested, there is a hefty penalty for ignoring an official conscription within the walls of Yloria, regardless of what kingdom they hail from."

    Gwen waved him off. "Nevermind that. First of all," she glanced between Sylvia and the vampire, "if any of you'd wanted my head, you'd have taken it mere minutes ago - I should hope you'll never get an opportunity like that again. Regardless, it's a risk I have no choice but to make. I cannot continue with a broken army, nor can I conscript the soldiers of Seaside Village when they need every able body on guard, being the first and most obvious target for the Lochesterian army. If I were to double back to regroup, I run the very real risk of my father locking me in the palace where I'm warm and safe until the war is over." Gwen scoffed. "I don't care of my own safety; I care of the future of our kingdom. Father's methods ... he won't listen to me, but I refuse to exchange our proud laws and culture for temporary safety. So that brings us here, where fate dropped the perfect army right into my lap." She looked at Sylvia. "A wanted werewolf in Lochester? You are exactly the kind of person Yloria needs." Her eyes shifted to the woman's tiara. It mimicked what would typically be worn by Lochester princesses. "Can't say I'm particularly surprised, if you're parading around masquerading as Lochester royalty." She turned to Sullivan. "And you too, electromancer? Do I need to go on?" She turned to the group at large. "It's no secret that all of you would be outlawed within Lochester's walls. I wouldn't be surprised if not a single one of you was from Yloria - though," she looked pointedly at the vampire, "if you wish it, I shall send a pittance to Khusha if you serve me satisfactorily. Best to beg forgiveness - asking permission could compromise Khusha's neutrality in the war. Whomever it is you are searching for, they will be here when you return, and I will send the entire cavalry to find them if necessary."

    "Come, then," Sir Emerick urged, walking a few steps ahead. Gwen turned away for a moment to follow him, agreeing that they were wasting precious time, but then turned back, frowning at those now forcibly under her command.

    "I... I truly am sorry for the inconvenience..." she paused a moment to pick her words carefully. "...But in all honesty, I don't have a choice in this matter either. I am sworn to my kingdom and will do whatever I must to protect it."

    "My Lady, please," Emerick prompted again, exasperation picking at his tone. "There will be plenty of time for socialization on the waters."

    Gwen waved them forward, talking as she walked now. "The Marigold awaits us - the royal ship. She's comfortable enough, and the crew and food supplies are more than we'll need. I'd prepared for a larger army. It isn't a long journey to Lochester, perhaps two or three days if the winds are in our favour."

    "Two or three days?" Emerick inquired, quirking a brow.

    "If the winds are in our favour," Gwen repeated, then glanced back. "Correct, Brother Genma Valerious Windcaller the Third?" The name flowed off her tongue easily enough, but it also jogged her memory. "Oh, and you all may call me Princess Gwendolyn, or simply 'Princess' is adequate."

    ...​

    Seaside Village - Dockyard -> The Marigold

    The dockyard was mainly occupied by small, wooden vessels loaded with fishing nets. The royal galleon was easily picked out as it was massive in comparison, though still modest compared to Lochester's royal warships. The Marigold sported four masts, all of them proudly flying green and gold flags. Its name was carved just aft of the third mast, along the side of the hull. The Marigold was built with a rich dark brown wood that had very few mars. The many circular windows along the hull suggested at least two - perhaps three in some areas - layers of below-deck living space. The crew had spotted the Princess and were hastily rigging an entrance ramp for her and her companions. The Princess and Emerick stepped on first, and the crew bowed to both of them - Gwen as their princess, and Emerick as their captain. They eyed the rest of Gwen's party in confusion.

    "There was a mishap getting here. Please welcome my new army and do whatever you can to make them comfortable." The crew muttered curiously amongst themselves but nodded to show they understood. Gwen nodded back. "We leave at once."
     
    Last edited: Jan 24, 2018
    Dragalge likes this.
  3. Schade

    Schade Do you hear it? Don't listen.

    -------------------~~-------------------
    Brother Genma Valerious Windcaller the Third
    Seaside Village- Eastern District

    "Hey, nice speech and all, but did you just play that 'I'm a Princess, my word is law' card? Sure, we're in your turf, but what makes you think that binding us right here and now without giving us a choice would make us obey immediately?!", one of the werewolves spoke out. A rather rough-around-the-edges kinda young woman in an all dark armor that left surprisingly little to the imagination. She seemed grumpy where she was standing with her arms crossed, and surprise surprise, she was not happy about the newly formed squads current situation. "Look, your ideals are noble and you're not a bad person. Far from it. I'm probably a worse person than you are and I've seen what terrible is, most of them from damn Lochester, but being a princess is not a ****ing excuse to rob others of their freedom to make decisions and subtly threaten imprisonment if they don't follow. People become heroes because in the end, they choose to. We aren't beneath you in that we're incapable of using our own heads," she then growled, finishing up her rant and enabeling for an uncomfortably long pause which was soon interrupted by the other mage in the group.

    “Look, Miss, You’ve been through Lochester’s dungeons - you should know that in cases like these you take what's offered to you. Princess there - she hired us as mercenaries. If you don’t like the hero crap, call it a strictly professional relationship - she did offer us a reward. Besides, You looked like you've been waiting for a seriously long time for a chance to sock those idiots a good one.”. The guy didn't come across as rude or anything, and he did have a point. Though Genma would likely get away from the situation without much hassle were the circumstances different, It was not like they could simply say No to the princess. He did not enjoy being called a mercenary though. “Your past - nobody here cares.” He continues. “She obviously doesn’t, considering she conscripted us on the spot. She doesn’t give a crap about how the king pardoned you, she cares about your usefulness as a tool. Forget the moral side of things - that doesn’t matter. Ideals of heroism will only get you killed. Free will is a gift, not a right. If you don’t like it, run now - you still have time.” the mage went on. He seemed to be somewhat down, or annoyed by something, but Genma was just awed. He watched in awe, and clapped as the mage finished his little speech. “That aside,” the mage said before grinning, “The name’s Sullivan. As a fellow Lochesterian outlaw, I look forward to working with you. I mean, you’ve got nothing to do here anyway besides sit in a cell and rot - Why not just relax, and take the opportunity to enjoy yourself?”He then extended his hand towards the lady he had basically just insulted. Genma waited in anticipation for her to just chop the hand clean off, but figured that wasn't likely to happen. Instead, he focused on the princess again.

    The princess was pretty quick in responding to the way the other two had acted, and went on about her ideals or whatever. Genma really didn't pay much attention. The situation was a bit too much for him to comprehend at the moment, and he was still in mourning over his lost groceries. Wonder what the monastery would do if he didn't return? there would surely be uproars. the most prestigous priest in the order wouldn't just vanish without people asking questions. (OOC: in reality, literally no one cared). However, doing a job for the princess would skyrocket Genmas name into the heavens above and beyond, and would surely bring popularity to the monastery. Maybe now they could turn the youth away from the pesky dark magic. Not minding his own greedy smirk ashe thought of the oppurtunities, he jumped a step closer to the princess, which made her retainer somewhat uneasy.

    "I... I truly am sorry for the inconvenience..." she paused a moment to pick her words carefully. "...But in all honesty, I don't have a choice in this matter either. I am sworn to my kingdom and will do whatever I must to protect it.". The princess now had a different tone to her, and her volunerable posture made it difficult to stay mad at her for basically kidnapping the group.

    "Aah! Don't worry about it, princess! I am sure the others have their reasons against your request, but i for one, would be happy to accompany you on this dreadful journey!"

    He was cut off by the princess' retainer who spoke in a strict fashion. "My Lady, please," Emerick prompted again, exasperation picking at his tone. "There will be plenty of time for socialization on the waters.". The waters? What waters?

    "The Marigold awaits us - the royal ship. She's comfortable enough, and the crew and food supplies are more than we'll need. I'd prepared for a larger army. It isn't a long journey to Lochester, perhaps two or three days if the winds are in our favor.", The princess said as she gestured to the most majestic ship in the history of ever. "If the winds are in our favour," the princess repeated, then glanced back, meeting Genmas gaze. "Correct, Brother Genma Valerious Windcaller the Third?" Yeah that wouldn't cut it. "Oh, and you all may call me Princess Gwendolyn, or simply 'Princess' is adequate." she finished. "Ah, with me around, the winds are always in our favors!" Genma said and smiled confidentally. "And you may call me Brother." he then turned to the werewolves, the dark mage and the vampire. "But not you. You address me by my full title."

    ~~~

    The ship was every bit as majestic and marvellous as Gwen had pointed it out to be, if not better. It was huge. Like... Huge. The ships four masts were dorned with flags of green and golden hues, and the ship itself was spotless compared to the other filth littering the dockyard. The crew also hastily readied for the groups arrival, lowering the entrance ramp for the gang. The princess and her retainer were the first to board, and Genma came in closely after the retainer. The crew of the ship seemed a bit disoriented and set back by the colorful gang of misfits, and were obviously expecting someone more... army-like. "There was a mishap getting here. Please welcome my new army and do whatever you can to make them comfortable." The crew muttered curiously amongst themselves but nodded to show they understood. Gwen then spoke again. "We leave at once."


    ~~~


    An unspecified amount of time later, the entire group was at the sea. At sea! Genma had never been at the sea before, and the fact that the Marigold was more or less a floating castle made the whole ordeal even better. Genma could hardly contain his childlike innocent joy, and he bounced all around the ship exploring, bothering the crew and pointing his staff in random directions yelling things in pirate-slang. All in all he was more or less like a big child on the sugar rush of the century, and he made no effort in hiding it.

    Several hours of bouncing around and exploring and generally not staying in the same spot for more than 2 seconds, Genma somehow started to get bored. Granted, the scenery was amazing, and harassing dolphins was perhaps a bit too much fun, but overall, the joy of it all started to dim down. It was a perfectly sunny day with little to no clouds, or wind. The soothing, amazing atmosphere was making him sleepy, and he knew he had to do something to keep himself occupied. He remembered from the many books at the monastery he had read about pirates and big battles out at sea, and though there were neither pirates or sea monsters or sunbathing young ladies, he knew that he at least could do something about the dreary weather. He decided to venture to the very front of the ship, which was adorned in more woodwork art he had already checked out twice. HE whipped out his staff and pointed it towards the sky as he began his little ritual.

    "In the wake of the coming tempest, relish in the winds of damnation,
    The Azure Knights of the seventh gale! I will lead you to the truth!
    I welcome thee, Knights of the gale, to the pure world I have forged.
    Shrieks of damnation, shrieks of absolution. Guide us in the right direction, let your winds push us forwards towards glory!"
    Light this world, Hurricane!"


    As he was chanting, the sun was quickly covered by dark clouds forming in front of it. The winds were picking up their pace as they collected into a huge hurricane hovering in the distance of the ship. As the hurricane touched the water, it created huge gusts of wind that quickly got caught in the ships sails, propelling it forward at surprising strength and speed. Genma was holding onto the railing of the ship as it rocketed forward in the rain that had accompanied the changing weather cycle, laughing a laugh that could be described as nothing short of ominous. The refreshing rain made it all so much better as well, and he was pretty sure he had shortened the trip with at least a few hours if not more. He should probably have given the others some time to adjust for this sudden change of weather but.. Eh, it's not as if anyone has ever died at sea right?
     
  4. VampirateMace

    VampirateMace Internet Overlord

    Lord Dimamire Nightshade
    Seaside Village > Docks > The Marigold


    Some judgmental dark witch girl came up beside Dimmy while he was talking, and yammered something about prison being his only other option. Dimmy let himself laugh coldly, “You're assuming quite a lot. . . like, for example, that I'd let them catch me. You saw them in that fight. Maybe you're that-”

    Dimmy became aware the princess had turned around and was addressing them. He was somewhat surprised to see the princess react to their concerns so quickly and personally, as royalty usually did not seem to feel the need to explain themselves to the help (though he was surprised to find himself as help, being a lord), but he was not however surprised at her continued self-righteous insistence that they accompany her, for once royalty had made up their minds, that was that (even if you were a lord).

    At first, her words were mostly a rehash of what she'd already said, at least the parts relevant to him. She trusted them, she needed to protect her kingdom (quite a noble cause really in his opinion), she could make up with his kingdom later. . . and then, she offered to help find his missing person. Dimmy's expression went blank for a moment, he's expected the pittance really, but the offer to seek out his mother that did make the whole adventure tempting, outside the fact he was already honor bound to protect a gentle-lady in need to start with. That didn't mean it wouldn't be inconvenient, and he wouldn't complain if he saw fit however, as he'd already done.

    After a moment more of apology, she was ready to led them off to her royal ship. Dimmy sighed softly, and conceded, “Very well, My Lady.”

    As they approached the gangplank there was talk of the wind being in their favor, a less then subtle hint to the monk, and a request from the princess that she be called Princess or Princess Gwendolyn. Dimmy did not reply, but he already knew within his heart that there was no way he was addressing this mere human as such. Sure he respected she had authority here, and was in fact a gentle-lady, but she was no princess to him. Worse the monk told her she might call him Brother, but the insisted that most of them, Dimmy included, needed to call him by his full title. Dimmy however did not bother committing his name to memory, as he had no plans to associate with this stuck-up man, who was unaware of his own inferiority. But he realized he'd not introduced himself to the princess yet, and commented as well, “I am Lord Dimamire Nightshade, but you may call me Dimmy, dear lady,” he turned to the monk and added snarkily, “And you sir, may address me as Lord Nightshade.”

    He gazed up at the large galleon, it was clearly well made and decent enough for a journey across the small sea. He'd not personally had a lot of experience with ships, but he'd read quite a lot about them during his studies. This of course meant he was technical expert, but had a lot of actual application questions. Perhaps a few too many. Or maybe it was too many criticisms, because to him, some of the crew didn't seem to know why they were doing what they were doing. Regardless, sometime not too long after they set out, Dimmy found himself face to face with the first-mate, for a scolding, “Look. . .” he seemed to be stumbling on how to address Dimmy, settling on a disturbing choice of, “boy, we're busy. The captain is busy. I am busy. Get below deck and stay there, or I'll take you down there myself and throw you in the brig.”

    Dimmy's eyes narrowed. Aside from not liking being threatened or scolded, he was pretty sure he could get out of whatever cage served as The Marigold's brig. But instead of arguing the point, he turned, and silently headed down the ladder. He didn't need to be in sun any longer, or associating with such dismal magic-less creatures anyways. Below decks, he found himself a quiet tucked away spot and pulled out his notebook. The princess had promised to help him find his mother, but that would only work if she was actually in Yloria. . . so, Dimmy started to review his notes, but soon drifted off to sleep.

    A couple hours later, he was jolted awake. The ship was creaking and seemed to be moving very fast through rough water. Something wasn't right. Dimmy looked around himself for his little book, and soon finding it, crammed it back into his pocket, heading for the ladder. Poking his head out and looking round the upper deck, the problem was apparent. The monk was at the front of the ship laughing hideously, while the un-reefed sails were being shredded by the rough winds, much to the panicked crew's dismay. He pulled himself onto the deck, clinging to the nearest structure for support (though he could walk up walls, he was certainly not used to walking on a unstable ship). He looked around for the princess, this whole enterprise was for naught if something happened to her now.

    Spotting the maiden, as she clung to the rails for dear life, Dimmy hastily made his way over, dodging crewmen but attempting to continue making hand contact with some part of the ship at all times. It would really suck to be thrown overboard while trying to help someone else not get thrown overboard. Reaching her location, he extended a hand, and called out, trying to be heard over the wind, “My Lady, you should come below deck! It's too rough for you to stay up here!”
     
    Last edited: Jan 24, 2018
  5. Minteh

    Minteh It's so shiny!

    Lyn Grier
    Seaside Village, Eastern District


    Unlike Lyn, it seemed many of the civillians who had jumped in to help the princess, were not entirely happy with being conscripted into joining her makeshift army. Although Lyn had quickly accepted matters, she could understand why many of the others seemed so hesitant to go willingly. In truth, she did have her reservations about it, knowing full well that when she didn't return Gunter would become suspicious and most like write to his former student to ask what had happened to Lyn.

    "Hey, nice speech and all, but did you just play that 'I'm a Princess, my word is law' card? Sure, we're in your turf, but what makes you think that binding us right here and now without giving us a choice would make us obey immediately?!"The blue-haired woman spoke out, crossing her arms. "Look, your ideals are noble and you're not a bad person. Far from it. I'm probably a worse person than you are and I've seen what terrible is, most of them from damn Lochester, but being a princess is not a fucking excuse to rob others of their freedom to make decisions and subtly threaten imprisonment if they don't follow. People become heroes because in the end, they choose to. We aren't beneath you in that we're incapable of using our own heads," she growled.

    The blue-haired woman then went on to point out how it would've been wiser for the princess to have known who they all were before conscripting them, noting how for all she knew, they could've been a group of assassins out for her head. Lyn gave a quick glance round at those assembled, wondering to herself if any of them would be capable of doing such a thing. After the blue-haired woman finished speaking, the princess came forward, briefly stopped by her guard, who stated that she had no reason to explain herself to them.

    "Nevermind that. First of all," she glanced between the blue-haired woman - named Sylvia - and the vampire, "if any of you'd wanted my head, you'd have taken it mere minutes ago - I should hope you'll never get an opportunity like that again. Regardless, it's a risk I have no choice but to make. I cannot continue with a broken army, nor can I conscript the soldiers of Seaside Village when they need every able body on guard, being the first and most obvious target for the Lochesterian army. If I were to double back to regroup, I run the very real risk of my father locking me in the palace where I'm warm and safe until the war is over." Gwen scoffed. "I don't care of my own safety; I care of the future of our kingdom. Father's methods ... he won't listen to me, but I refuse to exchange our proud laws and culture for temporary safety. So that brings us here, where fate dropped the perfect army right into my lap." She then addressed Sylvia and the vampire again, this time with statements that were aimed more personally at them. Once she finished with them, she turned back to the group at large, stating how they would've all been locked up for what they had Lochester dealt with them. Although she had quickly dealt with the discontent amongst those gathered, it was clear by her following sentence, that she did seem truly apologetic for conscripting them.

    "My Lady, please," the knight beside her spoke up, exasperation lacing his voice. "There will be plenty of time for socialization on the waters."

    The waters? Lyn couldn't help but raise a brow inquisitively. Did he mean to say they would be travelling by boat?

    Seaside Village > Dockyard > The Marigold

    As they had made their way to the ship, Lyn had listened intently as the princess described the vessel they were to board soon. The words did not do it justice, and for someone like Lyn, whose only experience of boats were the small sailboats she and her siblings would sail down the Crystal River with in the warm weather, such a sight was a wonder to behold. Compared to the smaller boats docked, this boat was spotless. As the group approached, the crew lowered the entrance ramp, allowing them to come aboard. The princess and her retainer were the first to board, and the ragtag group of misfits she had bought together all filed in afterwards. The crew seemed a little setback at the group, perhaps expecting somebody different, and despite the princess' request to make them all comfortable, a few seemed unsettled by the group.

    ***

    A few hours later, the group was at sea, the boat successfully leaving port with some ease. For Lyn, the first hour or so had been a little jarring, the rougher waters causing her to suffer with a brief bout of nausea. When the nausea eventually passed, Lyn began exploring the ship, her earlier amazement at it, now continuing to grow since they were aboard. As eh looked around she made idle talk with crew, who didn't not seem overly impressed with her incessant questions on how certain things worked. Although the crew were probably a bit more short with her on account of being bothered by the Zlelmore monk, who much like herself had roamed the ship, with a rabid curiosity.

    Speaking of the monk, Lyn had not seen him perform his ritual at the front of the ship, but she was present on the upper deck when the weather took a sudden change. As the winds and rain picked up, Lyn found herself gripping to one of the railing for dear life, almost falling flat on her face when the ship gained a sudden burst of speed. Despite how wild the weather had become, the cool rain was refreshing on her face, and when she did manage to gain some sense of composure, she found herself smiling as the rain bore down around her.

    Seeing her attached to the railing, one of the crew members reached out to her. "Miss, are you alright? Do you need help getting below deck at all?"

    Lyn shook her head, but a few moments later changed her mind, and over the roaring wind managed to call out for him to help get below deck. When she did get below deck, Lyn was practically soaked through, her hair was drenched, with strands stuck to cheeks. Although she looked drenched, she seemed happy, an amused smile playing on her lips. "Weather is getting pretty wild up there." She commented to no-one in particular.
     
  6. Monster Guy

    Monster Guy Jigglypuff again

    Veronica Lance
    Seaside Village


    The Vampire was quick to respond with a cold laugh. “You're assuming quite a lot. . . like, for example, that I'd let them catch me. You saw them in that fight. Maybe you're that-”

    Veronica rolled her yellow eyes as he spoke, but before she could give a response, more people started talking, and everyone else had to get their piece in. It just wouldn't end. and it became a mess of people talking, and the princess responding to all of their concerns. The blue haired werewolf woman felt the need to divulge her entire life story, as if anybody here really cared. Veronica rubbed her temples in annoyance. Ugh, why do people feel the need to talk so much?

    Finally, the princess' manservant cut everyone off. "My Lady, please, there will be plenty of time for socialization on the waters."

    The princess waved them off. "The Marigold awaits us - the royal ship. She's comfortable enough, and the crew and food supplies are more than we'll need. I'd prepared for a larger army. It isn't a long journey to Lochester, perhaps two or three days if the winds are in our favour."

    Veronica knew that was probably normal seafaring time, but two or three days was way too long of a time to be on a ship with a bunch of strangers who didn't know when to shut up. No matter how luxurious the ship might be.

    Docks > The Marigold

    The royal ship stood out amongst all the generic ships docked there. It was as large and flamboyant as one would expect a royal ship would be. Once they got on, the princess told her staff to do whatever they could to make them comfortable. Then, people were still introducing themselves with their fancy royal titles and all that nonsense. She heard their names, but Veronica still didn't bother giving hers. The lavender haired young woman ignored the others for the time being, and talked to one of the sailors. "I don't suppose you would happen to have any books to read on board this vessel?"

    The man took his sweet time replying before finally saying. "Here lass, you can read the logbook." Then he handed it to her and walked off.

    Veronica shrugged her shoulders, and took a seat somewhere. She had expected they wouldn't have anything substantial for her to read, but at least they tried. She opened the book, and started. She hoped that it would at least be an interesting read.

    ---

    Several hours later, they were out at sea, and Veronica found herself utterly bored. This captain had done absolutely nothing interesting because of this war going on. Veronica sighed, and put the boring logbook down. Now what was she going to do? She looked around, and saw the monk standing at the front of the ship waving, his wand, and chanting something. As he was chanting, the sun was quickly covered by dark clouds. Then the winds picked up, and started forming a hurricane. The gusts of wind got caught in the ships sailed, propelling it forward at a very uneasy pace. It was rocking back and forth, and it was raining hard. The whole situation was made worse by the fact that the man was laughing at the whole thing. How stupid could this man be?

    Veronica made her way over to where Genma was standing to give Genma a piece of her mind. Holding on to the rails as the ship rocked back and forth. "You idiot! What were you thinking?! Do you have any idea what you've done?!" Veronica had the desire to cast a hex on him, but the rough movements of the ship made her sick. Her face became green, as the feeling of nausea came over her. She felt the food she ate earlier in the day come back up, and she had a hard time holding it down. Suddenly, Veronica found herself throwing up all over Genma's feet. It felt strangely satisfying. Both to get that out of her system, and to humilate this idiot that called himself a monk. She had thrown up on him, hexing him didn't feel necessary. Especially with this storm going on. After that, she turned around, and tried to get herself below deck before this ship capsized.
     
    Last edited: Feb 9, 2018
  7. *Jean Grey*

    *Jean Grey* Night Triumphant

    Sylvia Edelstein
    Seaside Village - Dockyard -> The Marigold


    Sylvia rolled her eyes and crossed her arms as she heard the blond mage begin to lecture her about taking what was being offered and following orders.

    “Look, Miss. You’ve been through Lochester’s dungeons - you should know that in cases like these you take what's offered to you. Princess there - she hired us as mercenaries. If you don’t like the hero crap, call it a strictly professional relationship - she did offer us a reward. Besides, you looked like you've been waiting for a seriously long time for a chance to sock those idiots a good one.” He said, and the blue-haired woman instinctively gave him a bored look and flipped the bird. Just who was he to tell her what to do, and what was best for her? If he wanted to be an obedient dog, then that was up to him, but she wasn't about to allow him to tell her what to do. And seriously, Miss?!

    “Your past - nobody here cares. She obviously doesn’t, considering she conscripted us on the spot. She doesn’t give a crap about how the king pardoned you, she cares about your usefulness as a tool. Forget the moral side of things - that doesn’t matter. Ideals of heroism will only get you killed. Free will is a gift, not a right. If you don’t like it, run now - you still have time.” He continued, and Sylvia suddenly felt the burning need to crush the mage's balls. He knew nothing about her, yet saw it fit to start chastising her for having her own mind, rather than following blindly. And what was that about having a mind of one's own being a privilege rather than a right? Why should some have it while others couldn't? It was frankly idiotic. Was he that patronizing towards whomever looked like they held power? She briefly wondered what that implied in the bedroom...

    “That aside,” he said, his expression turning into that of a shit-eating grin, a look of self-satisfaction undoubtedly, “The name’s Sullivan. As a fellow Lochesterian outlaw, I look forward to working with you. I mean, you’ve got nothing to do here anyway besides sit in a cell and rot - Why not just relax, and take the opportunity to enjoy yourself?” Sylvia didn't return the gesture. Instead, she stepped towards him and leaned in close. She didn't stop there, however, as she grabbed his genitals and squeezed them hard. Not caring about the expression on his face, or what he might've been feeling at the moment, she tightened her grip and twisted his family jewels with a quick motion. He was lucky - she thought. She could very well relieve him of his unfortunately-sized load if she wanted to.

    "Gift my ass. You know nothing, twat...so keep your patronizing ass to yourself, unless you're trying to get into bed with the princess," she warned, her voice dripping with venom. She hated him already, especially hated his imposing, and she wasn't about to play nice with him, or look forward to working with him. Magic? She didn't care. She knew she could beat him in a fistfight. "And for the record, I much prefer Sir rather than Miss, and you fucking best remember that," she added, before raising her fisted free hand and decking him squarely on the jaw. She heard a satisfying crack, and she smirked. That managed to wipe the shit-eating grin off his face. She turned away, wondering how she was going to not lose her temper every minute with him around.

    The princess stepped towards them, ignoring her guard's warnings.

    "Nevermind that. First of all," she said as her eyes fell on Sylvia and the vampire, "if any of you'd wanted my head, you'd have taken it mere minutes ago - I should hope you'll never get an opportunity like that again. Regardless, it's a risk I have no choice but to make. I cannot continue with a broken army, nor can I conscript the soldiers of Seaside Village when they need every able body on guard, being the first and most obvious target for the Lochesterian army. If I were to double back to regroup, I run the very real risk of my father locking me in the palace where I'm warm and safe until the war is over." Gwen scoffed. The werewolf listened to her words, not knowing whether or not she should be pleased at the fact that she didn't judge her...or amused that she had to literally run away to escape her father's control over her. Whatever it was, Sylvia couldn't deny that the princess had admirable qualities of her own - she was a brave girl, she knew her own mind, that was for sure, and she wasn't about to ask her technical superior for the gift of free will if she wanted something. Sylvia tilted her head towards Sullivan, and made a mock-crying gesture.

    Gift my ass, she taunted in a low whisper.

    "I don't care of my own safety; I care of the future of our kingdom. Father's methods...he won't listen to me, but I refuse to exchange our proud laws and culture for temporary safety. So that brings us here, where fate dropped the perfect army right into my lap." The princess then looked at Sylvia straight on. "A wanted werewolf in Lochester? You are exactly the kind of person Yloria needs," The werewolf noticed how the princess' eyes travel to the headpiece she wore on top of her head and lingered on it for a few seconds. "Can't say I'm particularly surprised, if you're parading around masquerading as Lochester royalty." Masquerading as Lochester royalty? Sylvia wondered silently. What about her even remotely resembled royalty? She raised a hand to her head and momentarily touched her headpiece, the one the princess had been looking at seconds ago. It was something that her mother had given to her, saying that it came from her father - a father she had never known. The princess' words, though seemingly insignificant, made her wonder once more, even for a moment...until it dawned upon her. Her father must've been a Thief himself...not just any run-of-the-mill one, but someone skilled enough to infiltrate the palace, she assumed. How else could he have gotten his hands on such an item, after all? The princess then went on to address all those who had reservations. By the sound of things, the situation really was dire enough for her to resort to less-than-conventional measures.

    Sylvia sighed, her expression softening. She couldn't fault the princess entirely - it was better to act than to sit around waiting after all. Maybe she didn't see it at first, but it was clear that the princess was no armchair ruler, nor did she seem abusive...and for that, the werewolf had to admire her a little. She did like the feisty sorts after all. Of course, that didn't mean that she was going to blindly follow just about every order and command that she was given, or take care to use proper terms. Princesses weren't infallible after all, especially those who probably never really knew how things worked outside a castle's walls...and she knew Gwen was no exception.

    Once the princess finished, she waved all of them over to follow her.

    "The Marigold awaits us - the royal ship. She's comfortable enough, and the crew and food supplies are more than we'll need. I'd prepared for a larger army. It isn't a long journey to Lochester, perhaps two or three days if the winds are in our favour," she said as she led them towards the docks. One must be either blind or stupid not to be able to pick out which ship was the royal one among all the others. The Marigold was opulent and luxurious - with green and gold flags adorning its masts, and what looked to be more than one layer of belowdecks living space. Sylvia smirked at that. At least each of them would probably be given enough room to mind their own business.

    Once she reached the entrance ramp, the Death Knight noticed the confused looks being thrown at her, as well as the rest of them. Gwen waved them off as she gave them instructions. Once Sylvia was inside, she squeezed the purple-haired princess' shoulder briefly.

    "You know what? You've got balls, girl. Don't you lose that fire for a stupid queenly facade," she commented, before heading off on her own to explore the ship.

    -----

    A few hours later, the ship was now very well out at sea. This was the first time Sylvia ever rode a ship, yet somehow, she found the novelty wearing off quickly after a couple of hours. She had wandered into each and every room, and the only places of interest were probably some of the crew's rooms, where she nabbed some of their alcohol and indulged herself, and the weapons stash. Figuring out that there probably was nothing more to look at belowdecks, she decided that she was going to head up to the upper deck.

    As her feet touched the top of the steps, the ship suddenly lurched forward as dark clouds covered the once-sunny afternoon sky and the winds picked up in a sudden, almost unnatural way. Sylvia steadied herself with one hand, her remaining one still clutching the bottle of rum that she had pilfered. Rain then began to fall, and she heard what sounded like laughing at the front of the ship. An angry girl's voice protested, but was cut off by what sounded like...vomiting. A sailor? Or one of their companions? Sylvia made her way to where the ruckus was. The hurricane was only becoming stronger and the rain fell harder, but getting wet was frankly the last thing on the werewolf's mind as of the moment. In fact, she loved the feeling of the wind and rain on her face. She undid her hair and let it down, then took a swig from her bottle and howled out loud, before continuing on, inevitably not ready for the amusing sight that was about to greet her.

    She nearly bumped into a familiar, small girl...though with the unfamiliar smell of vomit accompanying her. Sylvia held her arms out and grabbed the younger girl's shoulders, looking down an noticing a few stray vomit stains lining the sides of her mouth. She then craned her head and saw the monk with a pool of vomit at his feet. She laughed out loud, a rare sound coming from her, as she called over a sailor.

    "Hey, you, what does one do to get one their sea guts?" She asked him, before holding up the rum bottle. "Do you believe in hair of the dog?"

    "I've always believed in hair of the dog. It's the best cure. Toughens anyone up real good," the sailor agreed, though he wasn't exactly looking at Sylvia in the eye, but rather, sizing up her body rather unashamedly. She made a mental note to deal with him later.

    "Yeah, yeah. Been there, done that, bub." she replied, before holding up the bottle to the young dark magician's lips, allowing some of the sharp-tasting liquid in.

    "C'mon and drink up your liquid courage, girl. Storms are nothing, you know?" She laughed roughly. Once she was satisfied, she took the bottle once more, leaned back on the closest railing, and chugged down the rest.
     
  8. Vern

    Vern Why not both?

    Sullivan Van Daal
    Seaside Village -> Dockside -> Marigold


    Upon noticing the hateful gleam in Sylvia’s eyes, Sullivan was not too proud to quickly admit to himself that he had made a mistake - he hadn’t counted on her being so aggressive in response to provocation. It wasn’t often that he misjudged a situation like this, but the alcohol must have gotten to him - it had been oddly cheap and probably full of questionable substances. Of course, he kept the well **** feeling to himself, and instead prepared himself to strike back in case she was about to attack him. He quickly withdrew his hand, knowing that he’d probably need it to defend himself.

    What he hadn’t expected, however, was for the werewolf to go directly for the family jewels. He quickly realised that jumping out of the way would result in a comically undignified topple backwards, and the moment of hesitation that ensued was enough for her to get a good grip and start squeezing hard. Gritting his teeth hard enough to feel the enamel grinding away at each other to avoid making any sound, he instead reaches down and grabs onto Sylvia’s wrist.

    At least she didn’t go straight to chopping them off. He thought to himself, letting out a slightly shaky breath through teeth that remained gritted in pain, Maybe I should count myself lucky.

    But if she was trying for a fight, then he wasn’t about to go down just because someone had a death grip on his genitals. Even though it hurt like hell, he had been through worse - . Keeping a his hand locked on her wrist, he begins discharging electricity in a constant stream of ever-increasing voltage. Even if she was a werewolf, that amount of voltage would definitely cause some muscle spasms and leave behind charred skin if the contact continued for too long. Physically, he was definitely no match for her, but just because she was a girl and had a death grip on the most sensitive part of a male body, that didn’t mean he was going to neglect the advantage he did have and just sit there and scream like an idiot.

    For a moment, he considers discharging the electricity directly from the very organ she was attempting to crush, but decided it would have been bad taste.

    “Gift my ***.” Sylvia said, releasing her grip in time to avoid burns and treating him to a voice that was filled to the brim with venom, “You know nothing, ****, so keep your patronising *** to yourself, unless your trying to get in bed with the princess.” Sullivan took the chance to let out the breath he had been holding in, as well as wonder somewhat quizzically if she would be okay with what he said if was indeed trying to ‘get in bed with the princess’. Anyway, there was no point arguing with her over moral grounds - he had only intended to vent for a bit, not convince her of the validity of his own worldview. He may be an arrogant bastard, and while he had no plans on having children, he certainly isn’t stupid enough to risk his continued ability to urinate for the sake of some petty moral argument. "And for the record, I much prefer Sir rather than Miss, and you ****ing best remember that.”

    Wow, she really doesn’t mince words.

    The pain in his genitals persists, and dulls his reflexes for long enough for Sylvia to get in a good swing at his face. He manages to twist to the side and catch it on his shoulder, and quickly blasted a lightning bolt towards her in return with his other hand. Eye for an eye, or so they say - although he wasn’t quite sure what exactly the female equivalent of a immensely powerful constriction of the balls was. The bolt sears past her shoulder, not quite making contact but definitely close enough to leave behind the feeling of incredible heat and a static sort of tingle.

    Before the situation can escalate, the princess turned around, once again addressing the group at large despite her bodyguard’s (very reasonable) protests. If anything, she had guts for being probably the most sheltered girl in the kingdom, and he supposed that it was something that ought to be respected. Most of her speech goes in one ear and out the other for him - he had made up his mind long ago, and needed no persuasion. The promise of a reward and an adventure is enough for him. In the middle of the speech, the werewolf takes the trouble to turn and sneer at him, mimicking a crying gesture, saying something that was probably a taunt. In return, he clasps his hands above his balls and does a comically exaggerated hopping motion, complete with an over-the-top grimace. Despite what had just transpired, he was in a pretty good mood - one of the few redeeming qualities of growing up in an enclosed compound surrounded by terrible people is that after a while, hardly anything can get to you anymore.

    But one thing about the princess’s speech did intrigue him - her mention of Sylvia masquerading as Lochersterian royalty. Now that she mentioned it, her headpiece really did seem to have a royal air to it. How did she even get her hands on that thing? The statement seemed to confuse the werewolf as well, and it definitely took her attention away from trying to rub her ‘victory’ in his face. The princess then concluded her speech, and the others began to stroll towards the ship. Sullivan, however, opted to seek out the monk who had for some reason applauded his outburst earlier (if it could even be called an outburst).

    “Hey, buddy,” he says, gesturing towards his shoulder, which was looking slightly disjointed, “Can I get a heal?”

    The monk laughed out loud in response. “I feel like you’d better get used to this.” He says, as his hands light up with magical energy.

    Sully shrugs in response, as if to say ‘Well, I’ve been through worse’.

    ——— ​

    A few hours later, Sully found himself half sitting, half-lying on the ship’s upper deck besides the captain, taking swigs from the same bottle of wine as they watched the monk with the long name bounce around like a caffeinated yoyo all over the ship. He had never been at sea before, and the open-ness of his surroundings filled him with a sense of freedom and contentment, like all barriers in the world had been stripped away. Relaxed, he considers drifting off to sleep under the warm sunlight. He could certainly use a nap.

    “That werewolf woman,” the captain was saying, having taken a liking to Sully over the past hours, “She’s one to watch out for, mark my words. Ya look at her and like what ya see, but trust me - ya don’t wanna mess wi’ some-un like ‘er if ya wanna keep yer body in one piece. And that monk, too - if ya look close enuff at his eyes, it’s obvious that he’s totally mental. Mark my words, it’d be a miracle if we get outta this journey without losin’ a single man.”

    “Sure.” Sullivan replies, drinking a bit more from the bottle. He couldn’t care less about the captain’s opinions on this motley crew of adventurers, but that wine certainly left little to be desired, especially compared to the cheap stuff he was drinking earlier in the morning. “By the way,” he adds as an afterthought, “The werewolf prefers to be addressed as Sir.”

    “Heh.” The captain replies, “There certainly are a ‘ole bunch o' weirdos in this world.”

    “You said it.” Sully replies, taking another sip.

    ——— ​

    Sully is roused from his slightly drunken slumber by the sound of howling winds. Really howling winds. The captain was busy shaking him awake, yelling at him to get below deck. More curious than afraid, Sully stayed lying down on the floor, pretending to be asleep, until the captain decided that it was a lost cause and disappeared below deck himself. When the coast is clear, he stands up, is immediately blown down to the floor by the wind and his own drunken loss of balance. Looking besides him, he saw that the captain had left the bottle from before on deck in his hurry, a he casually grabs onto it, slipping his rain-covered glasses into his pocket with his free hand.

    Well, isn’t that something. He thinks as he slides backwards on the slippery deck, eventually colliding with another railing, his mouth twisting into a grin. Holding onto the railing, he stands up just in time to see the purple haired mage girl puke all over the monk with a long name’s shoes. Looks like somebody’s not handling the seasickness very well.

    Sullivan relished in the feeling of freedom as the waters were rage wildly beneath him and the winds continue to get stronger. From his position, he watches as Sylvia casually walked onto the deck - presumably to enjoy some wind and rain herself - and poured some alcohol into the vomiting girl’s mouth, most likely with the intention of helping with her seasickness. As the other sailors scrambled around on deck, she leaned back against the railing and began chugging what was left of the alcohol she had. With a raised eyebrow, he notes that she had let her hair down.

    Still gripping the railing, Sully half walks, half staggers forward until he is next to the monk who’s name he still can’t remember. He had never had a large enough space to really cut loose on his powers before, but this was looking more and more like a good opportunity to test out how far he could really go. After all, in this circumstance, some lightning is only to be expected - you could hardly call it a hurricane if there wasn’t any thunder.

    “Hey, bro-“ he says in a slightly slurred speech, looping his free arm around the monk’s shoulder in a similar manner to the way he had first attacked the Lochesterian captain, “Nice storm you’ve got going there.” Once again, his red eyes seem to glow with a dangerously manic light. “But I feel like it’s missing something.”

    He takes a long swig from the wine bottle before turning back around to face the ocean, his robes rising up, propelled by an energy that wasn’t quite the same as the howling winds. With a loud, evil-sounding cackle, he raises both his hands towards the sky, and lets out a whoop as a lightning bolt descends from the clouds and strikes the water in the distance with a vivid display of light. As the now lightning-infused storm continues to rage, Sully takes another sip from the bottle, then offers it to the monk. “There.” He laughs, his words coincidentally perfectly synchronised to another lightning strike in the distance, "Now we have a real storm.” He looks over his shoulder at Sylvia. “Right, Sir?"
     
  9. Tangeh

    Tangeh Well-Known Member

    Princess Gwendolyn
    The Marigold


    Gwen watched patiently as her makeshift army came aboard and her crew began making preparations to set sail. She felt a hand clasp briefly on her shoulder, and glanced over to see Sylvia. "You know what?" Sylvia said, "You've got balls, girl. Don't you lose that fire for a stupid queenly facade." Queenly facade? Gwendolyn would be whatever her kingdom needed her to be. Right now they needed action. Her father had the 'stupid kingly facade' area covered already - not that she could ever say something so crude out loud.

    Instead, Gwen nodded at the werewolf. "...Pleasure to have you aboard."

    They had set sail before too long, and Gwen stuck close to Sir Emerick as he stood at the helm. It was fortunately a beautiful day for sailing. Sunny, warm enough, with a slight breeze. Some of her conscripted warriors were exploring above deck, while others had taken refuge in the bunks. Gwen didn't pay them much mind either way. Her thoughts were on Lochester. Word would likely travel faster than they could, and a firefight could be awaiting them at Lochester's port. Of course, she and Sir Emerick had already agreed to take a less direct route north to hug Yloria's border as long as they could, then turn sharply away from the coast to avoid the military base stationed in Swifthaven. It was the route that offered the best chance of avoiding conflict, as it should skirt around the route Lochester had been taking to reach Seaside Village.

    Eventually the winds died down, and some of the crew members had taken to fanning Princess Gwendolyn in substitution. She gazed contentedly over the deck, and noted Brother Genma point his staff to the sky and begin a chant to summon the winds, as she'd suggested to him before they'd boarded. "Excellent," Gwen commented to her crew. "With any luck this should speed us along. Men, prepare the sails for - "

    Dark clouds instantly clouded over the sky, and hurricane-force winds whipped across the deck. The Marigold lurched forward at the sudden change of winds, and her crew scrambled to attend to the sails. Without adequate warning, the winds were tearing through the unreefed sails. It was certainly propelling them forward, but badly damaging them. She could see Sir Emerick barking commands from the helm, but being upwind from him could hear nothing. The ship shook violently, and Gwen fell sideways with a cry of surprise. She slid until she collided with the gunwale and scrambled to her feet, clinging to the ship's railing as the storm increased in intensity. She dizzily held one hand to her head and tried to see how the crew was handling the situation, but by this point she could barely see anything through the heavy rain and dark clouds. A flash of lightning dangerously close to the ship illuminated the area briefly, but did nothing to reassure her.

    “My Lady, you should come below deck!" The voice was nearby, and Gwen turned her head to see Dimmy stretching one hand out toward her, the other securing himself to the rails. "It's too rough for you to stay up here!” Gwen hesitated, partially because she was afraid to let go of the ship even for a moment, and admittedly partially because she'd never touched a vampire before. She shook both baseless fears away and took his hand, ducking her head to shield herself from the rain.

    The ground was no less stable below deck, but at least Gwen could hear herself think. She nodded graciously at Dimmy. "Thank you for your assistance." Now they had bigger issues to worry about. She had to let Sir Emerick handle his crew, as she knew her guidance was less valuable here than his was, but it was frustrating sitting below deck doing nothing. She knew what direction the ship was heading in, and if they continued at this speed without managing to turn the sails, they were going to continue to plough north straight into solid land.

    Lyn was also below deck, absolutely drenched, not unlike Gwen was herself. "Weather is getting pretty wild up there," she commented lightheartedly.

    "This was no mere turn of the weather..." Gwen grumbled. She didn't elaborate further. After all, Dimmy had been the one to warn her that some of her conscripted crew were sadistic, and she wasn't about to let him lecture her. She'd get enough of an earful from Sir Emerick later. Not as big as the earful she was planning for Brother Genma and Sullivan, however. That is, if they survived this. The waters beneath them were growing more violent, and Gwen had taken to gripping a support beam to ensure she did not fall again.

    The ship lurched suddenly to the left, then the feeling of turbulent water halted. The ship slowly and methodically righted itself, then everything went eerily still. Gwen furrowed her brow and immediately climbed back above deck. The dark clouds had dissipated, the winds had halted, and, oddly, they had arrived at solid land. Though wherever they were, it certainly wasn't the Lochester port she had intended on arriving at. Her vision first landed on the Watchtower - a massive stone creation that could overlook all four kingdoms, but was positioned and managed in Zlelmore. Judging by their proximity, they likely had arrived in Lochester territory. ...Just not at all where she had hoped to arrive. How had the Marigold even managed to get this close to land?

    "Disembark immediately, by order of Sorcerer Glikore!" a chorus of voices spoke in unison from just outside the ship.

    Wait, what? Gwen hurried to the edge of the ship to stand by Sir Emerick, and noted no less than twenty soldiers cloaked in the traditional violet robes of Zlelmore. Likely they were guards of the Watchtower. And they were ordering her around on behalf of their head of state? "I will not comply until I am told what is going on here," Gwen called down to them, crossing her arms.

    The Zlelmore warriors glanced at each other, then one man stepped forward. "Princess Gwendolyn? We were not told that the Ylorian vessel was housing royalty..."

    Gwen took note of his nervous tone and quickly seized momentum. "I ordered information, soldier," she scolded.

    The Zlelmore guards shifted uncomfortably. The man frowned at her. "Be that as it may, I believe all you need to know is that our wise Sorcerer ordered the guard's strongest water mages here to halt your ship. Fortunately some of us are trained in the wind arts as well. It is fortunate you were able to grab our attention with the storm, otherwise your ship may have capsized before we could rescue you." Gwen felt irrationally irritated at the suggestion that the storm actually saved them. What was that supposed to mean? And how did they know to expect the Marigold anyways? Gwen furrowed her brow, about to demand answers, when a sound from behind her grabbed her attention.

    To her horror, an army of Lochesterian soldiers were climbing one by one out from below deck. "Stowaways?!" Gwen exclaimed, reaching for her sword. "You mean to tell me the ship was not thoroughly secured?!"

    There were ten Lochester soldiers in total, and for the second time that day, Gwen found her sword clashed against who seemed to be the commander. He sneered at her. "Seems Lochester isn't the only one who sent spies, Princess." She gritted her teeth and didn't respond. She would deal with the Zlelmore mages later - far from helping, they were beginning to slowly retreat from the fray. Sir Emerick was at her back in an instant, parrying away a Lochester soldier. Unlike the first enemy group, this group's sights were set clearly on Gwen.
     
  10. VampirateMace

    VampirateMace Internet Overlord

    Lord Dimamire Nightshade
    The Marigold


    The human princess seem to hesitate a moment before reaching out to take Dimmy's hand. He couldn't be sure if it was simply the storm or something else that was on her mind though. Nevertheless he grasped it firmly, as both their hands were cold and wet from the storm, but he was determined the lowered friction from the rain shouldn't be allowed to separate them before they reached safety. Swiftly he pivoted, heading back for ladder. The howling storm now featured lightning as they navigated between the equipment and frantic seamen.

    Back below deck the princess thanked Dimmy. As he reached up, feeling his drenched hair he replied, “Of course.”

    As he started to wring the water from his hair, Gwen had started talking to Lyn, who also seemed to have just come in from the storm. It was clear from context Gwen knew who was to blame for the weather, and she seemed a little bitter about it. Remaining a gentleman, Dimmy did not comment on this however. Besides, he was more concerned with the facts that he was still soaking wet and the storm seemed to be growing rougher. . . until a sudden lurch and stop nearly toppled him. Dimmy looked around curiously, commenting softly to himself, “What the hell?”

    The princess was heading back out on deck. Dimmy followed, at a respectful distance of course. On deck the weather had gone from dreadful soaking storm, back to cheerful sunny hell. One who'd grown up in the desert might be expected to be okay with the sun, but many of the residents of Khusha, not just the vampires, preferred to do things at night or twilight. There was no time to worry about the weather though, as several robed men were now questioning Gwen, and then claiming to have save her? This all seemed highly suspicious. Even before nearly a dozen men emerged from below deck in Lochester soldier garb. Gwen seemed to be coming to a similar conclusion, “Stowaways!?! . . .You mean to tell me the ship was not thoroughly secured!?!”

    But how in the world did ten armed men go unnoticed on a smaller ship like this? One or two was understandable, but ten was madness. Crewmen were likely involved. Dimmy's eyes narrowed, and he instinctively clenched his fists, preparing magical charges, as he replied, “I think it's worse then that, My Lady.”

    They were plunged into the chaos of battle once again. There was a clash of swords. An apparently high ranking soldier took the lead in going after Gwen, the group's singular focus. Sir Emerick rushed in to aid her, while Dimmy threw his hands forward, unleashing the dark blobs of energy on the nearest enemy soldier. With a splash of rust on his armor, and a spackle of putrid gore across his face, he cast aside his previous goals and swung his sword wildly at Dimmy. Oh damn! Dimmy ducked realizing his mistake, and drew his dagger, barely deflected the sword as he scrambled to back up and right himself. He was alive, but this was not a strategy that was going to work for very long. He started recharging the magic in his free hand. Sidestepping he placed his hand on the soldier's shoulder, releasing the charge, and rusting the joint mid swing.

    The man screamed in frustration, trying to find a way to continue his onslaught. Dimmy knew he needed to end this. And as a half-vampire, he knew exactly the best place to strike when faced with so much armor, lifting his dagger to the man's neck he thrust it into the choroid artery.
     
    Last edited: Feb 12, 2018
  11. Minteh

    Minteh It's so shiny!

    Lyn Grier
    The Marigold


    "This was no mere turn of the weather..." The princess grumbled in response to Lyn's comment.Although Lyn hadn't noticed herself, the princess had come below deck shortly before her, helped by the vampire who Lyn believed was named Dimmy. Lyn wondered if she was referring to the monk who had been stood at the front of the ship. She hadn't seen him actually perform the ritual behind the sudden wild weather, but she had suspected he was partly to blame for this. As Lyn reached for a piece of cloth to try her hair, she watched as the princess took to gripping a support beam to keep herself from falling. Lyn was about to make a humourous comment to the princess when the ship suddenly lurched to the left, the feeling of the turbulent sea below them having finally ceased. The boat did begin to right itself, albeit slowly, but the sudden movement had thrown Lyn off balance, and she found herself leaning against a support beam to stop herself from toppling over.

    When the boat had finally righted itself, an eerie silence descended upon the quarters. Standing away from the support beam, Lyn took a moment to steady herself, watching as the princess and Dimmy headed above deck. Lyn followed them shortly after. To the young woman's surprise, the raging storm had now disappeared, replaced by the same sunny weather they had seen shortly before they left port. Even stranger was the fact that the Marigold no longer seemed to have arrived at solid land. Lyn's confusion only grew when several voices outside of the ship demanded that they disembark. Walking to the nearest edge, Lyn peered over it, counting no less than twenty soldiers cloaked in the typical violet Zlelmore robes. Lyn guesses that they must've come from the Watchtower, which was visible in the distance.

    Despite the orders, the princess seemed unwilling to comply at that moment. "I will not comply until I am told what is going on here," she called down to them, crossing her arms as she did so.

    The Zlelmore soldiers below exchanged a look between themselves before one stepped forward to state they had not been expecting the vessel to be housing Ylorian royalty. Perhaps fuelled by the nervous tone of the man who spoke to her, the princess was quick to reprimand him, reiterating her point of wanting to know what was going on. The Zlelmore guards still seemed uncomfortable by this question, but eventually relented in telling them that Sorcerer Glikore had ordered the strongest mages in the guard to halt the ship, stating how they were lucky that the mages did so in time, else they may not have been able to rescue them. Lyn was confused by this, and it seemed the princess was as well. Before anyone could ask any questions as to why it was they needed rescue, a sound behind them grabbed their attention.

    To Lyn's horror, she watched as an army of Lochestrian soldiers were beginning to climb out from below deck one by one. There were ten of them all together, and it didn't take long for a fight to break out between the two groups. Whilst the princess was engaged in a duel with what seemed to be the commander, the vampire was using his magic to deal with some of their other opponents.

    Unlike the previous battle, Lyn found herself right in the heart of it, using her defensive style of fighting to avoid some attacks. She stayed away from the soldiers with larger swords, knowing full well her little blade would not stand a chance against their sword. Lyn managed to disarm one soldier by giving him a quick snap kick to the groin area, which caused him to keel over slightly and drop his weapon. With that solider temporarily disabled, Lyn had turned her attention to another soldier, who was attempting to move towards the princess. Although not ideal, Lyn snuck behind him, hoping to knock him down with a sweeping blow. The move was usually performed from the front, but Lyn had adjusted it to hopefully work when performed from the rear. However, just as she was about to perform a breakfall to take out his legs, he turned, and instead of a smooth attack, the two collided in a botched move. Whilst it did work to bring the soldier down, Lyn had winded herself as she hit the floor at a peculiar angle, and was now struggling to get back up. The soldier was able to compose himself quicker, and whilst Lyn struggled to get back up, he moved towards her, hoping to keep her down.
     
  12. Schade

    Schade Do you hear it? Don't listen.

    -------------------~~-------------------
    Brother Genma Valerious Windcaller the Third
    Seaside Village- Eastern District

    As perfectly planned, The Marigold sped across the jolly sea like nobody's business. The storm he had whipped up certainly helped in several different ways, and he figured there would only be a question about time before they would reach their destination. Wherever their destination may actually be. The others, however, weren't too fond of the sudden change in weather. He could hear the crew running around like litle ants behind him, trying to get the sails under control. Amateurs, had they never sailed before? His concentration was abruptly interrupted when the purple-clad girl managed to wobble her way to where he was standing. She called him out on his magnifficent plan, calling his stunt dumb, and somehow believing he had put them all in grave danger. He could tell that she was in bad shape. Soaking wet and struggling to stay upright, and it wasn't long before her verbal accusations and insults were interrupted by her elegantly throwing up all over his shoes. "Aah, get it all out of your system girl. The dark magics will be purged and your soul will once more be pure!" he said as he held his staff up high, earning a roaring thunder in response. Though he initially wanted t whack her in the face with his staff for soiling his perfectly neat shoes, it didn't take long in this rain for them to clean right off, though he feared they might smell bad later.. The werewolf woman in black, in contrast, seemed to enjoy the change of weather. Letting her hair down while howling in the ragin storm, it was obviousshe was drunk from the nearly empty bottle of rum she was holding in her hand.

    “Hey, bro-“Sully said as he somehow managed to get himself on deck and into the storm. How the young mage managed to stay upright was questionable, as his breath reeked of at least 4 different types of alcohol. As he miraculously got himself to where Genma was standing, he threw his arm around his shoulder in a brotherly fashion, making the odor from his breath even more noticable. “Nice storm you’ve got going there, But I feel like it’s missing something.” he said, taking a big slurp from the mysterious bottle he was holding before raising both his hands to the sky, of which thundering sounds could be heard thereafter. Genma was thrown off-guard by this. "You stupid dullard!" he insulted Sully, though he didnt push him away. "Don't just run around summoning thunderstorms out of nowhere like that! Do you even know how dangerous it is with thunder out in the open sea? Are you trying to get u all killed? You moron!" his insults seemingly had no end where he was berating Sully for carelessly endangering the group, completely oblivious to the fact that hurricane weather conditions were considerably more dangerous than a thunderstorm.

    As some sort of twisted answer to prayers Genma was sure no one had issued, his wind magics were countered by... something, which quickly cleared the skies, making the ship almost halt in its tracks compared to what it was doing earlier. "Hey, what the heck? Who did that?!" Genma shouted back towards the crew, who looked equally as relieved as they were confused. They were also now very close to land, and Genma could see a mass of people standing by the shores. This couldn't be good. Genma ran over to where the princess emerged from below deck. "Disembark immediately, by order of Sorcerer Glikore!", he heard a voice state. Uh-oh, that couldn't be good news. The group of people turned out to be Zlelmorian guards, and they were visibly confused when the princess came into their view. Genma placed himself beside her, trying, and succeeding to look all powerful and mighty, trying to intimidate them as conversation began.

    As if on some un-noticable cue, the deck were swarmed with men clad in the common Lochester armor, suggesting their ship had been infiltrated by guards all this time, for... reasons. How did he not find that out? He had literally searched through every nik and nook of the ship earlier. shaking his head in anger, he turned around and prepared himself for trouble, which would obviously be made double considering the amount of guards that emerged.

    The Zlelmorian mages, though they claimed to have rescued the ship, did not partake in this battle. It was good they rescued them too, as Sully's reckless use of magic would eventually have doomed them all. However, it seemed this battle would have to be fought on their own initiative. Being already in the middle of the fight admittedly caught Genma off-guard, and he had to block a barrage of attacks with his staff to avoid most of the worst damage. "Hey, hey hey!As the avatar for peace, love and Zlelmorian Monastery, I command you to stop attacking at once!", he said, flailing his staff as if to warn his assailant to back off. Said assailant, however, did not budge. "We'll see how your healing can save you now, monk!" he said as he threw himself forward, sword first. Genma deflected, but not fast enough to avoid the sword making a slight cut in his robe. He gasped loudly when he noticed the flaw in his garment, and furiously poked the guard in his stomach with the end of his staff, pushing him a few feet away from where he was standing. "You dare lay a finger on me? Me?! Don't you know who I am?" Genma shouted as he flailed his staff in the air menacingly. The guard was somewhat un-prepared for this outburst, but it didn't phase him much, and he came for Genma once again. "I'll f*cking slice you to bits! Smell this!" Genma angrily shouted as he near-flawlessly shot his foot up into the air just in front of the guards face. The guard stopped in time to avoid the kick, but the leftover stink from purple girls incident earlier was still present, as shown in the guards sudden sickly face. The guard backed off a few feet, staggered by the ooze. Genma then pulled back his foot and quickly turned, making a swift movement with his staff as he released another Air Cutter spell flurry. The guard screamed out in pain as he fell to the ground, looking over in front of him to where his legs were still standing a few moments before falling to the side. The guard laid on deck bleeding and crying in traumatized horror for a few seconds before succumbing to the inevitable bloodloss.

    Recovering from the trauma of having his garment torn, Genma focused on the fight at hand, the other guards udnerstandably held a certain distance from him now, and he decided it was time to aid his comerades. Or.. the princess and the others. Genma raised his staff into the air and began to chant.

    "As a new sun rises, rises above all. Rises from the ashes, rises from the darkened dusk of night.
    The sun gives light, the light of hope, the light of inspiration. Light our paths as we follow the sun.."


    He was abruptly interrupted by a guard who decided to come for him with his sword. Genma ducked away in time and angrily shouted at him. "Hey! Can't you see im f*cking busy here, mate? Do i just run around and interrupt you when you're out acting like a complete f*ck?! No? Come for me again and you'll end up like legless Betty over there! Don't believe me? Try me, f*cking try me!"". The guard backed down, and Genma cleared his throat as he continued his chant.

    "By the rise of the new sun, replenish our souls, and give new life to our beings as we bask in your bright glory!"

    As he finished his rite, his staff lit up in a pure and calming fashion, a light breeze flew through the battlefield, enveloping the group in a dim orange light, giving the group energy, as well as leaving a faint hint of citrus. The Clear Wind spell also removed the ill smell of the purple grls vomit on his shoes, and his entire outfit now smelled like citrus. The rift in his cloak had also been magically repaired. He then took a defensive stand next to the princess, who was in a close fight with who appeared to be the commander of the assailing group.
     
    Last edited: Feb 16, 2018
  13. Vern

    Vern Why not both?

    Sullivan Van Daal
    Marigold


    Surprisingly, the monk doesn’t seem to like this new change in weather. Maybe something about the lightning put him off. “You stupid dullard!” He yells, “Don’t just run around summoning thunderstorms out of nowhere like that! Do you even know how dangerous it is with thunder out in the open sea? Are you trying to get us all killed? You moron!”

    Sully just laughs out loud in response, the crackling storm behind him making it seem all the more sinister. If the guy didn’t want to take responsibility for his own actions, Sully wasn’t about to try and convince him otherwise. To do so would be futile. Better to just take advantage of it to have some fun. “Don’t worry ‘bout it,” He laughs, letting go of the monk’s shoulder, “A little bit of danger is good for your health.” He takes a few steps back and spins around, his cloak billowing out behind him and his red eyes glowing menacingly in the darkness of the storm. “Besides, my accuracy is absolutely abhorrent. Couldn’t even hit the ship if I wanted to. See?” Sully raises his hands towards they sky, and they start to glow with a golden light. A lightning bolt slams into the water less than ten meters away with an ear-splitting cracking noise. Still laughing, he feigns surprise. “Oops... that was closer than I expected. Here, lemme just try agai-“

    Without warning, the hurricane suddenly ceased, suppressed by an even more powerful magic. The thunderstorm he had added subsides as well, the extra lightning bolt he was about to summon casually swatted aside by an incredible power. Sully reacts immediately, sprinting towards the helm in a somewhat awkwardly wavy line. Only mages from Zlelmore had that kind of ability - and as far as he knew, that meant trouble. His senses on high alert, he glowers at the twenty-ish mages stationed underneath the Watchtower.

    With this sudden development, those that had taken refuge below decks quickly scrambled back on top to see what had happened. The princess, accompanied by her bodyguard, was first, followed by the vampire noble and then the apothecary lady. He noted with a vaguely amused chuckle that the princess looked none to pleased at what had just transpired, and started to mentally prepare himself for the few choice words she no doubt had ready for him and his monk ‘friend’.

    Ever the princess, Gwendolyn was quick to demand answers, and the presence of royalty gave the Zlelmorian mages of the Watchtower little choice. The leader informed them that they had been ordered to stop the ship, and noted that without the storm having grabbed their attention, the boat might have already been sunken.

    However, Sully’s attention wasn’t on the leader’s speech. An oddly familiar figure stood amongst the mages, and his gaze was fixated on it. The more he looked, the more certain he became. The mage’s face was hidden, but a few strands of her dark olive hair could be seen beneath the hood. Is that her? He muses, once again pondering the mage’s resemblance to the companion he had parted with what seemed like ages ago. As the mages start to draw away from the ship, his curiosity continued to grow. Well… I guess I don’t have any choice, do I? With a smirk, he moves to clamber over the railing and jump down onto the island, his free hand reaching for the fox mask he had tucked away on the inside of the cloak.

    Before he could make the jump and probably break his legs, the sound of clinking armour drew his attention back to the ship. Whirling around, he sees several Lochesterian soldiers clambering onto the deck. There were ten in total, which meant that his own side was outnumbered - although not by an absurd amount. Already, the leader had attacked the princess, and around her, the other adventures she had forcefully conscripted were engaging in their own fights as well. From his position at the bow, he watches with an amused, somewhat mocking detachment as the others fight. His monk friend was already screaming oddly hilarious obscenities at a guard, having dispatched another one with his wind magic already. The vampire had been quick to dispatch an attacker, the princess seemed to be holding up, and her bodyguard wasn’t having much trouble either.

    Sully glances over his shoulder, but the mages had already withdrew, the familiar figure gone with them. The sight of the now-empty shores leaves an oddly lonely feeling hovering around his mind. However, his frown quickly turns into a slightly unhinged grin as he turns his attention away from melancholy and back to the situation at hand. His wine bottle still in his hand, he enters the fray with a laugh and a flying leap, slamming his body - fully cloaked with an aura of lightning - directly into the soldier who was moving towards the apothecary lady, who was struggling to get up from her prone position.

    The Lochersterian, unprepared for this sudden assault, unbalances himself and topples over, the electricity causing him to lose control over his body. Without hesitation, Sullivan rolls on the floor and pins the surprised man to the ground with his knees, then grabs the his face with his free hand, unloading shock after shock directly into the soldier’s body. If the fight carried on for too long, his own inferior physical strength would leave him at a disadvantage, so he had no choice but to attack without mercy. As the man spazzes uncontrollably under the influence of the electricity running though him, Sully lifts up his head and slams it repeatedly onto the deck, a maniacal grin on his face the entire time. Eventually, the soldier’s body goes still.

    A citrusy aroma wafts through the battlefield, filling his body with a new burst of energy. Sitting on top of the soldier’s unconscious - and possibly dead - body, Sully raises the wine bottle to his lips and takes a sip, draining it dry.“Well, buddy,“ he chuckles addressing the glass bottle, “It was good knowing you.” With a laugh, he gets to his feet and takes a step forward, flinging the now-empty bottle at the enemy commander’s head.
     
  14. Monster Guy

    Monster Guy Jigglypuff again

    Veronica Lance
    The Marigold


    Veronica suddenly felt someone grab her shoulders. She turned around to see that blue haired werewolf woman looking back at her. Veronica was less than amused. This ship is about to capsize, and here she was laughing out loud. She said some things to one of the sailors, and then all of a sudden, she was shoving a bottle of some disgusting liquid down her throat. "C'mon and drink up your liquid courage, girl. Storms are nothing, you know?"

    Veronica coughed. That was the absolute worst drink she ever had. How can anybody possibly enjoy this? Then to make the situation worse, the lightning magician sauntered out, and thought it was a good idea to add lightning to this windstorm. He was carrying a bottle just like the werewolf woman was. All of a sudden, Veronica found herself wondering if helping the princess was really a good idea, and was regretting not walking away, and leaving well enough alone. Now, she was stuck on a ship in the middle of a storm with a bunch of idiots.

    Veronica rolled her eyes. "Well, you all can stay out here and die if you want to. But I'm getting below deck." Veronica mumbled as she tried to get out of there. It was no easy task, with all the rain falling down and getting herself as well as the ship's floor soaking wet, the violent wind, and potential to get struck by lightning. Then there was the constant turbulence created by travelling through rough waters. She found herself constantly falling to her knees after taking a few steps. Then, as if by magic, the ship suddenly corrected itself. The storm gradually went away, and the ship corrected itself. Veronica went over to the side, and breathed a sigh of relief at what she saw. A bunch of people, wearing the familiar purple robes of Zlelmorian mages, casting spells to quell the water, and bring the ship toward land. Veronica was glad to be back in a place where her skills would be appreciated.

    After the ship came to a stop, one of the mages called out. "Disembark immediately, by order of Sorcerer Glikore!" Everyone from below deck came out to see what was going on.

    Now that rain had stopped, Veronica was able to produce some fireballs, and made them revolve around herself, in effort to dry herself. Meanwhile, the Zlelmorian mages were quite confused when they saw the princess demanding answers. Before any answers could actually be given, an army of Lochesterian soldiers were climbing one by one out from below deck. Ten of them in total. Somehow, they had managed to stow themselves away on a royal ship, and nobody noticed. Somebody clearly wasn't doing their job properly.

    Veronica rolled her yellow eyes. They had narrowly avoided getting shipwrecked, and now they had to get into another fight. Could this day have been any better? Immediately, Veronica fired some of the fireballs she already had out, distracting somr of the attackers, then took a cue from the fleeing Zlelmorian mages. and positioned herself as far away from the front lines as she could. She knew she stood no chance in a physical fight, and the mages knew good and well they couldn't either. On the bright side though, now that they were in Zlelmore, Veronica could use her dark magic, and not worry about getting arrested.

    The opposing soldiers were interested in the princess, than they were in anyone else in the fight. Veronica watched the others fight, and took notice of the vampire stab his opponent in his neck, killing him. Now that she was in a place where she could legally use dark magic. Veronica decided to experiment with her powers, They had studied necromancy back at the academy. While she grasped the concept of the trademark necromancer skill of summoning skeletons, she hadn't completely mastered the art of raising the dead. Now would be as good a time as any to experiment. Veronica slowly approached the corpse, raised her arm, waved in a circle, then shot a ball of dark magic right into the chest of the dead body. The corpse started glowing, then rose upright, and became a zombie. The undead creature moaned, then awkwardly shuffled his way into the fight. Many of the soldiers were taken aback by the appearance of the reanimated corpse of their comrade.

    The zombie awkwardly fought off some enemies, but after about a minute, the zombie moaned again, the exploded in a blast of dark magic. The zombie was gone, reduced to a pile of ash, and the clothes he had been wearing. "Curses..." The sorceress mumbled to herself. She never could get those reanimated corpses to last longer than a minute. Now, a few of the Lochesterian soldiers were giving her angry looks for what she had done.

    Suddenly, a citrusy aroma wafts through the battlefield, which was absolutely refreshing, and she found herself filled with energy. Veronica then fired a stream of purple fire from her hands at an enemy soldier, burning one of them, and letting the others know to stay away if they knew what was good for them.
     
  15. *Jean Grey*

    *Jean Grey* Night Triumphant

    Sylvia Edelstein
    The Marigold


    Turned out, the rain wasn't all there was to the storm. Soon, lighting flashed across the dark gray sky and the echo of thunder followed. Now, she definitely knew who was responsible for this, and it seemed as if said person just wanted her to know.

    "Now we have a real storm...right, Sir?" The voice of Sullivan sang out, in a manner that was almost taunting. Sylvia turned her head and gave him a challenging look.

    "Tch...no storm is a real storm unless somebody goes flying, or you know, actually gets struck by lightning, imbecile," she replied, leaning against the railings as the purple-haired girl, as well as some of the others that had been on deck, went down to the safety and dryness of the cabin. Sylvia didn't do the same, however, preferring to enjoy the rain on her skin and the wind on her face. It wasn't as if she was the tallest thing onboard anyway.

    "You stupid dullard! Don't just run around summoning thunderstorms out of nowhere like that! Do you even know how dangerous it is with thunder out in the open sea? Are you trying to get us all killed? You moron!" The monk exclaimed, rather surprisingly at that. Sylvia would've thought that he would appreciate the change and stage some sort of weather battle while they were at it. Yet here he was, complaining just because of a little thunder and lightning.

    "Afraid of a little thunder and lightning? I expected more balls from you Brother Genma whatever whatever the Third," she chuckled before finishing the last of her alcohol and throwing the bottle far and above, aiming for one of Sully's lightning bolts. The blue bolt hit the glass and shattered it into many tiny pieces, which then rained down on the choppy waves. Speaking of alcohol...she remembered that she had someone else to deal with. Stepping away from the railings, she made her way towards where the sailors had taken shelter and her eyes fell on the pervert from earlier. She wasted no time in grabbing him by the neck and giving him a hard kick.

    "My eyes are right here, bastard," she snarled, pointing at her own eyes, before giving him the finger between his eyes. The sailor laughed drunkenly.

    "Aye. Like a Lochesterian lullaby," he slurred before he started to hum an all-too-familiar tune, clearly inebriated. Sylvia growled and allowed her hand to shift into a paw, before raking him across his torso with her sharp, lupine claws. She then turned to leave, only to see that the clouds had gone, the rain had stopped and the winds died down. Strange, she thought. It had only been minutes, yet the sky was a clear blue.

    "What the fuck..." Sylvia mumbled as she strode towards the helm of the ship, pulling her damp hair back up into its usual messy twist. They had arrived at solid land, though it didn't look like Lochester. Some voices from outside the ship were ordering them to disembark, and the werewolf took the time to peer over the starboard. She noticed several violet-robed Zielmore soldiers. She knew those violet robes - she did encounter some of them at seedy pubs during her time in Zielmore after all - yes, even the most serious, scholarly sorts needed their drinks from time to time. The princess was busy demanding answers, while one of the guards replied that they were only following the orders of the Sorcerer, insinuating that they had rescued the ship from something.

    As if on cue, around ten Lochesterian soldiers emerged from belowdecks and began to attack, their commander clearly aiming for Gwen. From the corner of her eye, the blue-haired woman noticed that the Zielmorian soldiers, rather than lift a finger to help, began to withdraw instead. Cowards, she muttered, before quickly shifting to her wolf form and charging headlong to the middle of the battle. She heard a sickening thud and noticed that the apothecary had fallen and one of the soldiers was closing in on her. The black werewolf instinctively leapt between them and wrestled the Lochesterian soldier down, before tearing at the flesh on his chest and face. He struggled and kicked her off, but she quickly picked herself up and threw herself on him once more, sinking her fangs into his chest and using her claws for good measure as he retaliated with his own punches. Blood was spilled, lots of blood, and knowing what that meant, she quickly shifted into a form midway between woman and beast, unsheathed her scythe, and began hacking at him with it until he stopped breathing. She grinned, her human form once again taking over as she surveyed the battlefield and noticed the fallen apothecary just as a wave of citrus-scented air hit her. It felt oddly refreshing, and Sylvia found herself becoming even more energized. She took the hand of the apothecary and pulled her to her feet.

    "Breathe in this shit, it probably won't kill you for now," she deadpanned before throwing herself at yet another enemy soldier, digging her scythe into his back.
     
  16. Tangeh

    Tangeh Well-Known Member

    Princess Gwendolyn
    The Marigold


    The distinctive noise of steel clashing on steel echoed across the battlefield as Gwen parried the commander. She could feel Sir Emerick at her back, his sword swinging vigorously against another opposing enemy. The first army had been targeting minority races harboured within Seaside Village, but this was clearly an attack meant to either assassinate or capture her. Why? Did they hope her father would yield if she was taken out of the picture? It wasn't a completely unlikely possibility, but it was a very bold and worrying strategy for Lochester to take on...

    "Princess!" Sir Emerick's voice sharply yelled. She felt him jerk sideways, likely to take on an enemy to their left. Gwen looked around in time to see Lyn successfully distract the oncoming enemy, though she fell into a prone position. Gwen hesitated, unsure whether to help her or turn back to the battle at hand. Gwen's attention was snapped back to the battlefield as Sir Emerick rushed back in time to block another attack aimed for her neck, but a second enemy got a good slash across his right arm and he stumbled, just barely managing to maintain the grip on his weapon. Gwen spun around with an angry cry and met the assailant's blade as Sir Emerick tried to recover. The second Lochester soldier came at her as well, and suddenly Gwen found herself facing two enemies alone. Around her, her forced army was making some good headway of its own. At least, she could hear magic chants and the growling of a large wolf, and the battlefield now smelled oddly, though not unpleasantly, of citrus. It certainly wasn't the work of the Zlelmore soldiers - though she couldn't exactly blame them for not helping, considering it was likely an order straight from the head of state himself to remain neutral.

    Gwen successfully blocked one of the soldier's strikes, but as she was shakily holding form the second soldier added his blade to the mix with a powerful strike. She lost her grip on her blade and stumbled backwards, her sword clattering to the ground several precious feet away. She did her best to keep her posture straight - 'don't show fear to the enemy, don't show fear to the enemy' - and at least still had her shield to hide behind, and fortunately one of the soldiers became distracted by ... one of his dead comrades, as a zombie, clumsily coming to attack him. Gwen stared into the eyes of the remaining soldier as he lifted his sword - she could faintly hear some panicked commotion somewhere off the deck - then a sword plunged through the neck of the enemy soldier and he fell lifeless to the ground. Sir Emerick, gripping one arm, panted and removed his blade, moving to stand protectively behind Gwen. Finally given a chance to breathe, she took the opportunity to survey the battlefield - Lyn was okay, the zombies were starting to vanish, a large black werewolf was tearing some opposing soldier apart. The battle seemed to be once again winding to a close, with the Lochester soldiers strewn across the Marigold's bloodied deck. Then blades of water began flying haphazardly from just off the ship toward them.

    Gwen looked over the railing to see the Zlelmore mages, wide-eyed and many backing away and talking to each other in alarm, casting spell after spell onto the ship. In their panic, their aim at first wasn't exactly clear. The water and ice they were casting were like throwing knifes - sharp and dangerous. One hit an enemy soldier, one hit a zombie, several flew across the battlefield, potentially injuring others. Gwen realized with a start who they were aiming at - they weren't trying to help Yloria, but rather were aiming for Sylvia. Once Gwen was given context, their panicked cries were easier to understand: "werewolf!" Barely three seconds later she deflected a shard of ice off her shield. She stood as tall as she could and began yelling at them. "Cease your fire! How dare you attack my soldiers! Am I to take this as a threat against Yloria?" Gwen snapped. "Do you wish my head next, as these cowardly Lochester soldiers did?" The commanding Zlelmore soldier began signalling for the others to stop attacking, and the magic slowly drew to a halt.

    "Your sword, Princess Gwendolyn." Gwen turned to see Sir Emerick presenting her sword, his head respectively bowed. Gwen's vision darted away from the silver weapon toward her guard's arm. It wasn't a deep cut, but it was certainly a long one that would require attention. Gwen took a few moments to survey the deck, and located Brother Genma.

    She trudged over to him. "Brother," Gwen said, her brow furrowed. She had not yet forgiven him for starting the storm, but had decided to push that aside for now. "Heal Sir Emerick at once." She took the moment to take stock of the rest of the crew - a few of her sailors had perished in the onslaught, but the rest of her army seemed okay.

    There were more pressing issues to deal with now. Sensing this topic of conversation may get sensitive, she looked toward Sylvia as she moved back to speak to the Zlelmore soldiers. "Let me do the talking," she instructed swiftly. The last thing she needed was a third battle against a horde of terrified mages. She refused to show it, but she was exhausted after all she'd been through today. She wasn't meant to run into trouble at the market, and certainly not on the ship. She stood straight and looked down upon the Zlelmore mages, trying to hide the fact that she still hadn't caught her breath back yet.

    The commanding Zlelmore soldier firmly met her eyes. "Why do you have a werewolf aboard the royal vessel? And a dark mage at that - disrespecting your own laws will earn you no favours as a future monarch."

    "These people have fought bravely to protect me, and they continue to serve me in ways that the royal army cannot," Gwen explained. "And you will show them the same respect you would show any member of the royal Ylorian army." This prompted some more irritated whispers among the Zlelmore mages. She'd best steer away from this topic. "Why were you sent here, if not to engage us?"

    "We were told to expect trouble aboard the passing Ylorian ship, the Marigold..." The commander glanced in confusion back at his comrades. "This scenario is not what we were expecting."

    They did look pretty confused, Gwen would give them that much. "You mentioned Sorcerer Glikore sent you," she continued. "If that is the case, I, Princess Gwendolyn Esyl Hefina Quince Silverose of Yloria, request a formal meeting with him immediately."

    There was silence for a moment, then the commander quickly bowed. "Follow us, Princess. We have carriages up by the Watchtower." Gwen allowed them to begin walking, then she turned back to her army.

    "Now then... change of plan," Gwen said, eyeing over her group. It was probably just as unwise to take too large of an army as it would be to attend a royal meeting alone. ...That, and she wasn't sure she could trust half her army to hold their tongues. She didn't want to make it seem as if this was a request to discuss war strategies, merely a formality after being saved from the ocean's wrath. "Lyn, Dimmy..." She narrowed her eyes at the dark mage. "And you. What is your name? Introduce yourself." She found the really quiet types a bit unnerving if she was being honest, but she knew that the head of Zlelmore state would greatly appreciate her forwardness in recruiting a dark mage, and perhaps bonus points for the Zlelmore apothecary and Khushian vampire. "You three are to stay with me. You may speak if done respectfully, and remember proper titles, please. Try to mention your respective talents and places of origin several times if you can get away with it - they should be impressed by them." She turned away. "Brother, Sullivan, Sylvia? You are to stay in the nearby market. Find us a secluded place to stay and some dinner. Perhaps socialize with the townsfolk, but please do not make any scenes. We will find you shortly after. Sir Emerick will accompany you."

    Gwen felt her guard shift at this comment. "No, Princess. I am to stay by your side at all times."

    "Your talents are better utilized elsewhere, as I will be in no danger. You will do as I ask."

    "I am sorry Princess, but I do not disobey orders from the king, even if to follow orders from his daughter."

    Seems this was going to be a trust exercise then. Gwen sighed her irritation and turned instead to her surviving crewmen. "Fine. Then the crew will accompany you to the market." She glared at them. "And from there they shall find their own way home, as punishment for putting the lives of myself and their kinsmen in danger by improperly securing the ship." She reached for her coin purse and pushed several gold shillings into the hands of Brother Genma, Sullivan, and Sylvia. "And if you're going to drink," she continued, her eyes narrowed, "you'd better not buy the cheap stuff."

    ...​

    The Zlelmore mages led the group to magically enchanted horse-drawn carriages that moved at what looked and felt like the speed of sound. It hadn't been the first time Gwen had experienced them, so was prepared for the lurching feeling in her stomach when they first started running. Brother Genma, Sullivan, and Sylvia were dropped off at the marketplace in the heart of the Zlelmore capital city, along with the rest of the surviving crew members. Not unlike Yloria, it was filled with shops and busy people. Unlike Yloria, the buildings were much taller, contributing to the darker streets. Many people were dressed in mage robes and many of the salespeople sold odd charms and trinkets - very popular seemed to be charms to ward of werewolves. In fact, there were many people walking around whispering about werewolf sightings...

    The remainder of the group was deposited at the foot of the castle. It was equally as tall as the castle in the Ylorian capital city, but was built with black stone. It felt colder inside than she was used to at home, too. It was lit both with natural lighting and with flame torches strewn along the walls. The decor was actually contrastingly bright. It was gaudy in Gwen's opinion. The Zlelmore mages led them inside and began leading them up a flight of stairs. Gwen knew from experience that the sorcerer held meetings many, many stairs up from where they were - the view was incredible, but the legwork it took to get to it was exhausting. She'd mused before over how the magical folk even managed it.
     
  17. VampirateMace

    VampirateMace Internet Overlord

    Lord Dimamire Nightshade
    The Marigold


    As Dimmy wrenched the blade loose there was a spray of blood, and the man's body collapsed instantly. The visceral color, the metallic scent, the fact that he had not drank in sometime; Dimmy was well reminded of his vampire half, and the eternal blood-lust that came with it. His eyes went greedily from the blood on his knife, to that oozing from his victim's neck. He licked his lips eagerly, and he would have drank too, if it weren't for the dark mage girl resurrecting the corpse to battle for her.

    With this, Dimmy was snapped back into the present, hurriedly backing away from another attacking soldier. Everyone was being drawn into the fight; the human and werewolf girls slashing and kicking, spell casters chanting, and so forth. He rememebered he needed to help. He dodge the enemy's swipe, charging his magic in his free hand, and then letting it loose in the soldier's face.

    A refreshing citrus scented glow washed over the battlefield. Dimmy wasn't familiar with this, but he understood clearly it was some sort of helpful magic. Then more magic, in the form ice and water daggers from below showered up onto the deck, an annoying mix of somewhat helpful and somewhat not hits. Until Gwen rebuked the Zlelmore mages. Apparently, some of them had been the intended targets.

    Thankfully, the battle wrapped up quickly after that, and Gwen finally agreed to go meet with Glikore, requesting Lyn, Dimmy, and the dark mage girl accompany her. Meanwhile Gemna, Sully, and Sylvia would find quarters for the night, and more then likely, plenty of alcohol. Dimmy was glad to be separated from the self-righteous priest for a bit, but not terribly keen on a meeting with the leaders of people that had attacked them and their enemies indiscriminately. But Gwen seemed to have a plan, so he nodded softly at her suggestion of impressing those around Glikore, “Ah, but of course Good Lady.”

    The carriages made a stop at the market before taking their half of the group to the castle. Dimmy stared up at the slick black stone building, it had a certain beauty, didn't it? The interior however showed a severe lack of taste. As he lowered his hood, he took note of the multiple forms of lighting, stairs everywhere, and colors so bright they hurt his eyes. Dimmy snickered lightly, and whispered, “I don't think impressing the natives is going to be that hard.”
     
  18. Schade

    Schade Do you hear it? Don't listen.

    -------------------~~-------------------
    Brother Genma Valerious Windcaller the Third
    The Marigold

    Though Genma could easily have taken on this entire army and more, he was starting to feel fatigue. MAybe it wasn't such a great idea conjuring a storm while out on the open sea? Nah, must've been from something else. Regardless, he was falling back. Leave the fighting for the fighters, and heal whoever dumb enough not to be able to deflect the hits coming at them. Though he knew that the others were decently capable of fighting, he was also a bit eager to do some serious healing. Though he didnt exactly care about the political background for these assaults, it didnt take long for him to be called out. "Brother," he heard the princess say. Almost before she finished saying the word, he was staying right behind her, ready for action. "Heal Sir Emerick at once." she commanded. She had a certain unsure tone to her voice. Was she doubting Genmas healing abilities? Well she was a princess, but even that was a bit rude. Huh, if he said that out loud, the consequences wouldn't be pretty. Better just swallow his pride and do as he was told. "Would it kill you to say please.." he muttered under his voice as he located the fallen general.

    Sir Emerick had seated himself against one of the larger poles of the Marigold trying not to wince as he held onto his decently sized cut on his arm. Though a normal human being would likely have died of bloodloss at this point, The general was firm, and his face didnt reveal anything. "Heal me and let me rejoin the fight" the general said, stern in his tone. Genma hated it. "Now wait a minute. based around how much you're bleeding i dont think magic will do much good here." Genma said, obviously toying with Sir Emerick. This would come back and bite his cute little tush later he just knew it. "Your prognosis looks very grim, i might have to take the entire arm." he then said, pointing his staff to Sir. Emerick, a gust of wind forming around the end of it. Sir Emerick just glared at him, unphased by the joke, even though it was a very well executed joke. "Enough with the jests mage, do your thing." he said bluntly. "Tsk.. Kiljoy.." Genma said with a gloomy face, and readied a Mend spell instead.

    "Calling upon the ones who watches, calling upon their wise words
    O' the wise words of the prophets, the living, past, present and future.
    Get to tha choppa, Hakuna matata, we're gonna need a bigger boat.
    Na na na na, na na na. Life is life..."


    Having recited the wise chants of futures past, Genmas staff began to glow in a dim, warm light. He gently placed it on Sir. Emerick's arm, which began to heal immediately. He stood up and grabbed a better hold of his admittedly impressive sword. Giving his newly healed arm a few test-swings, he looked at Genma. "Thank you, cleric." before charging back into the bttle. "Uh you're welcome i guess." Genma said, slightly irritated.


    Not that long afterwards, it seemed the fight was dying down. "Now then... change of plan,", Gwen said, addressing the entire group. "Lyn, Dimmy..." She narrowed her eyes at the dark mage girl in the purple clothing. "And you. What is your name? Introduce yourself.". Genma then realized the girl never did introduce himself. "Who does that", he snarkily commented. "You three are to stay with me. You may speak if done respectfully, and remember proper titles, please. Try to mention your respective talents and places of origin several times if you can get away with it - they should be impressed by them.". It seemed the three would accompany the princess in her political endeavors. Fair enough, Genma wasn't much for the political sides of things. He figured the rest of the crew, meaning himself, Sullivan and Sylvia would secure the ship and stay put until they returned. Fair enough. "Brother, Sullivan, Sylvia? You are to stay in the nearby market. Find us a secluded place to stay and some dinner. Perhaps socialize with the townsfolk, but please do not make any scenes. We will find you shortly after. Sir Emerick will accompany you." she said.

    After some light arguing with her personal guard, it was decided that the ships crew would accompany the three of them to the market. "And from there they shall find their own way home, as punishment for putting the lives of myself and their kinsmen in danger by improperly securing the ship." she said, before reaching for her coin purse and pushed several gold shillings into the hands of Brother Genma, Sullivan, and Sylvia. "And if you're going to drink," she continued, her eyes narrowed, "you'd better not buy the cheap stuff."

    Drink? Genma didn't drink.. much. The crew could do whatever they wanted, he was no babysitter. They were dropped off at the marketplace by horse-drawn carriages that would also carry the rest of the group further. Standing in between Sylvia and Sully as the princess and the others departed, he put his arms around each of their shoulders and pulled them in, "All right, what are we gonna do. First of all, let's get drunk shall we? I mean, she practically asked us to, right?"
     
    Last edited: Mar 19, 2018
  19. Minteh

    Minteh It's so shiny!

    Lyn Grier
    The Marigold


    Writhing around on the floor, Lyn attempted to kick out at the soldier approaching her, finding that her attacks did little to deter him. She was able to move backwards slightly, giving herself a little more time to stand back up. However, before she could do so, and before the soldier could attack, a body crashed into him. It took Lyn a moment to identify who had come to her rescue, but she quickly identified it as the monk, Sullivan. Caught off guard by the sudden assault, the soldier toppled to the ground, his body writhing from the electrical magic that surrounded the monk. From her position she watched as the two of them grappled on the ground, the monk sending shock after shock into the soldier's body, before taking a more violent approach, and dashing the man's head against the deck until he finally went still, a maniacal grin playing on his features the entire time. When he was finished, he simply sat atop the body, taking a sip of wine his wine, before standing and throwing the bottle at the head of the enemy commander.

    Unsure whether to be grateful for the help or horrified at the brutality of the monk's actions, Lyn had remained on the ground for a moment. It was only when the female werewolf approached and pulled her to her feet, did Lyn actually regain some composure.

    "Breathe in this shit, it probably won't kill you for now," the woman deadpanned, referencing the citrusy smell which lingered in the air. Moments later the woman had thrown herself at another enemy, digging her scythe into his back.

    She could properly thank the woman at that point, so instead turned to the monk who was still stood nearby. "Thanks for saving me back then," She muttered, offering a nervous smile, "I owe you one."

    Back on her feet, and filled with a renewed sense of energy, Lyn took the time to survey the battlefield. The battle seemed to draw to a close thankfully, with many of the Lochestrian soldiers strewn across the deck of the Marigold. That was until a moment later when blades of water began flying haphazardly towards them from just off the ship. Lyn just about managed to duck as one shot past her head. She waited for a brief respite in the attacks, before appearing over the edge of the ship to see who was aiming at them. It turned out to be the Zlelmore mages, and judging by their shouts, they had decided to take aim at Sylvia. The Princess had swiftly taken note of this too and was currently in the process of getting the mages to back off, informing them that Sylvia was with her.

    The Princess and what appeared to be the commander of the soldiers spoke to each other for a while, with the latter admonishing the princess for having a werewolf and dark mage aboard a royal vessel, which as he pointed out, breached the laws of Yloria. Although Gwen pointed out that they had helped her in ways her army could not, some of the mages seemed less than pleased with this answer, whispering amongst themselves irritably. When asked why they had attacked the ship, the commander admitted that they had only been told to expect trouble from the passing ship. After confirming who had sent the mages to attack the ship, Gwen requested a formal meeting with Sorcerer Gilkore, which she was granted.

    "Now then... change of plan," The Princess said as she turned to her group. "Lyn, Dimmy..." She paused at the dark mage, narrowing her eyes. "And you. What is your name? Introduce yourself. You three are to stay with me. You may speak if done respectfully, and remember proper titles, please. Try to mention your respective talents and places of origin several times if you can get away with it - they should be impressed by them." Turning to those who remained, instructing them to head into the marketplace to find them somewhere secure, as well as some dinner. She intended for her guard to go with them, but he politely refused, stating that he was to stay by her side and that he could not disobey his orders from the king, even if they were from his daughter.

    After disembarking the ship, the group were led to where horse-drawn carriages were prepped and ready for departure. They made a brief stop at the market to drop of Genma, Sullivan, and Sylvia, as well as the remaining soldiers, before continuing on their way to the castle where they were to be dropped off. Although Lyn had lived in Zlelmore for some time, she had never actually stepped foot in the castle. It was rare that an apothecary would be called to the castle, but on the rare occasion that they were, Gunther would attend in their stead. Compared to the black stone which made up the exterior of the building, the decor inside was incredibly bright. She had expected as such, after hearing Gunther speak of it, but to see it with her own eyes, she couldn't help but feel the decor was somewhat ugly. The mages lead the small group up some stairs, where they would no doubt find Sorcerer Gilkore at the top. As they ascended, she heard the vampire snickering to himself, but didn't quite catch what he said. She was more focused on how tiring it was climbing all these steps, musing to herself on how her tutor had ever managed these on a regular basis.
     
  20. Monster Guy

    Monster Guy Jigglypuff again

    Veronica Lance
    Marigold > Zlelmore Castle


    The battle was starting to wrap up pretty quickly. The bodies of many of the Lochestrian soldiers strewn across the deck of the Marigold. The Zlelmorian mages actually decided to help. Blades of water and ice began flying around the ship. Some of them managed to hit the Lochestrian soldiers who were still standing, but a few of them seemed like it was aimed towards their group. Veronica barely dodged a pillar ot water coming her way. She did wind up getting wet from the attack. After she had just gotten herself dried off from the rainstorm that idiot cleric started.

    Gwen demanded the attacks stop, and once they did, Veronica got herself dried off with her magic fireballs for the second time today. Being a fire magic, and water did not go well together. Apparently, the magical attacks were aimed at Sylvia, the werewolf girl. Veronica couldn't help but be slightly amused at the irony of the situation. People with access to powerful magic were terrified of a wolf woman. The full moon wasn't even out. Why was the fact that a Dark Mage and a Werewolf on board the vessel even a concern to him? In a kingdom where dark magic was legal, and openly taught in schools. Veronica rolled her eyes. She had always accepted the fact that other humans would never make sense to her. It was why she preferred the company of her books, or cats. Cats didn't talk back.

    After a discussion between the Zlelmorian soldiers and Gwen, the princess managed to get a meeting with Sorcerer Gilkore. The head of state, and the most powerful wizard in the kingdom. Veronica was curious to know how he felt about all of this.

    Fortunately for her, Veronica would get to find out for herself. Gwen turned to address the group. Now then... change of plan. Lyn, Dimmy..." She paused when her eyes landed on Veronica, narrowing her eyes. "And you. What is your name? Introduce yourself." Veronica remembered she never told her name because of all the chit chat unfolding when they had arrived. She didn't really care to know these people anyway. Then Gwen continued giving orders. Not even stopping to give Veronica a chance to state her name like she asked. Veronica rolled her eyes again. How good of a ruler would this girl be if she didn't even give her subjects a chance to speak. "You three are to stay with me. You may speak if done respectfully, and remember proper titles, please. Try to mention your respective talents and places of origin several times if you can get away with it - they should be impressed by them."

    Yes, I burned down a building, and killed some people. That will surely impress the sorcerer. Veronica thought to herself. She had only just graduated from the magical academy. She didn't have many accomplishments worth bragging about. While she had never met the man, she didn't think he'd be the type to be easily impressed. He was a powerful wizard for goodness sake. It would take a lot to impress him.

    After finally disembarking the ship, the group boarded horse-drawn carriages. They were magically enchanted to move faster than an average horse. Once again she felt that familiar lurch in her stomach. She had already gotten sick once today, she wasn't about to do it again. After making a brief stop to drop of Genma, Sullivan, and Sylvia, as well as the remaining soldiers at the market they continued their way to the castle. It was a tall castle, made of black stone. A style Veronica very much appreciated. The inside, was completely different from the outside. It was much brighter. Both in color, and in lighting. It was quite gaudy in Veronica's opinion, but she wasn't surprised by it.

    She heard the vampire snicker, and whisper. "I don't think impressing the natives is going to be that hard.”

    Veronica shrugged her shoulders. "Zlelmorians do have a flair for the dramatic..."

    The mages led them up several flights of stairs. This was going to be a lot of effort on her part, but Veronica didn't really care to complain about it. Since this was probably going to be a long walk, she decided to say something so she wouldn't have to concentrate on how much her feet were going to hurt when this was done. "So, Princess, since you asked, my name is Veronica Lance. Graduate of Zlelmore Magical Academy. If you believe those Lochestrians, I'm a witch..." That last sentence dripping with sarcasm.
     

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