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

Tangeh

Well-Known Member
- When Walls Crumble -
(A Fantasy RP)
[Rated R for violence and language]​

*Sign up thread

Please refer to the sign up thread for plot and world information.

...​

RULES

1. No god-modding / no Mary Sues (no perfect/ invincible characters. You cannot dodge every hit or land every strike!). Characters should be well-balanced, with defined strengths and weaknesses.

2. No powerplaying (“bunnying”) without permission, unless exceptionally minor in order to progress the RP. This in particular includes auto-hitting (do NOT harm another player’s character in your own post. It is up to the RPer themselves to decide 1. IF they are hit by an attack and 2. To what DEGREE the attack affected them)!

3. The character limit is one per RPer.

4. Sign ups are limited to the reserves taken beforehand. Unless we have significant drop-outs, sign ups are closed.

5. Please ask if you have any questions, or wish to suggest something to add to the world.

...​

RPer list:
1. Tangeh - Princess Gwendolyn Esyl Hefina Quince Silverose (Non-magical human Royal Swordswoman)
2. *Jean Grey* - Sylvia Edelstein (Werewolf Death Knight)
3. Cometstarlight - Hazel Cornix (Werewolf Adventurer)
4. Minteh - Lynneth "Lyn" Grier (Non-magical human Scout)
5. Monster Guy - Veronica Lance (Magical human Sorceress)
6. Schade - Brother Genma Valerious Windcaller the Third ("Gen") (Magical human Cleric)
7. Sketchie (reserved)
8. TikTok13 - Zane Crowley (Werewolf Thief)
9. VampirateMace - Dimamire ‘Dimmy’ D. Nightshade (Half-vampire Rogue)
10. Vern - Sullivan Van Daal (Magical human Electromancer)

...​

Princess Gwendolyn
Seaside Village - Eastern District


A number of thoughts were swirling in the mind of Princess Gwendolyn Esyl Hefina Quince Silverose. Foremostly, her sword was clashed tightly against the blade of a Lochesterian guard. A bead of sweat rolled down the side of her brow, and she broke away, just barely blocking the retaliating blow from her opponent. His allegiance to the rival kingdom (it was still odd to think of them as enemies, after so many years of being close allies), was marked clearly by blue patches on his armor and shield. Gwendolyn's own guards, scattered around and faring no better against Lochester's army, wore green patches in the same locations.

The second thought, nearly as pressing in her mind as the first, was their current location. They were in Seaside Village's eastern district, which was the central location for the refugees of magical races. Ylorian citizens were looking on in horror as the battle raged on directly in front of them. The glass windows of a nearby magic school had been shattered. This wasn't a battle at the territory line - how were these enemy soldiers here? Likely they came by sea, but that only suggested more bloodshed against the soldiers delegated to guard the ocean. It also suggested a motive, which based on previous reports, was probably merely to slay the refugees who hid here from Lochester's racist ideals. Regardless, this was not a battle she was anticipating when she snuck out of the castle without informing her father of her plans to sail to Lochester. It had caught her entire troop by surprise.

Which brought her to her third thought: if she survived this, her father was going to kill her. Barely old enough to have any command over the army, and already she was abusing it in a suicide mission. They were outnumbered, outmatched, and unprepared. Her father would never make such a mistake. But then again, this was why she knew she had to do this.

"I will not ask you again," Gwendolyn spoke with as much clarity as she could muster as her sides heaved for oxygen, "stand down. We did not come for a battle. I seek safe passage to - "

"Save it child," the Lochester commander said darkly. Their swords were still pressed together, and Gwendolyn knew she was outmuscled. He acted as if her sword was little more than an annoyance. "I have no intention of allowing the princess of Yloria to waltz into the Kingdom of Lochester while our kingdoms are at war with each other. My troops and I have our orders and we do not seek royal council."

Gwendolyn's eyes narrowed. "How dare you! You are making a terrible mistake. We have deployed no troops into Lochester, and I seek only peaceful royal diplomacy, yet you come on our lands unprovoked to spill the blood of innocents? Do you wish death upon your kingdom?!"

The man lowered and sheathed his sword, and Gwendolyn hesitantly matched his movements, still out of breath. To her horror, she saw much of her small army splayed on the ground around her. She didn't think they were dead - at least none of them seemed to have fatal wounds - but they were not fit for battle. The Lochester soldiers were gathering behind their commander, most of them still relatively unharmed. A few Ylorian troops staggered to their feet to join their remaining companions, but they were helpless to properly defend. The princess felt her heart pound in her chest as she looked at her soldiers, and then at the terrified innocents watching the battle. The commander frowned at her. "We have spilled no innocent blood. Only the blood of monsters and users of witchcraft, and any who would dare stand in our way." He glared at her. "Do you still wish to defy us? We are cleansing your community. It will be safer thanks to Lochester's doing - and if our Queen has it her way, Seaside Village will change hands permanently, for the good of all true humans who live here. Now," he drew his sword again, as did the rest of his army. "be a good girl and go home to your father. Cease this embarrassment of a defense at once."

Gwendolyn immediately drew her sword, her expression stony. "And let you slay the people Yloria has sworn to protect? I would sooner die." The commander was on her again in an instant - the metallic clashing of swords filled the air, and his swings held more vigor than last time. The remaining soldiers who could still fight obediently moved forward to rematch the rest of the army, but they were clearly outnumbered. They badly needed backup, or the battle would soon be over.
 
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Monster Guy

Fairy type Trainer
Veronica Lance
Seaside Village - Eastern District


Veronica had just arrived in Seaside Village, and she hadn't planned on staying very long. It was a small village, and there wouldn't be much for her here. Beside, she needed to get back to Zlelmore. She had been forced out of her own home, and as a practitioner of Dark Magic it would be much easier to thrive there. She also didn't have much money to spend. This town was supposed to be some sort of safe haven for all the magical races, but based on the battle that was breaking out, this certainly didn't look to be the case. The battle involved the Ylorian Princess and soldiers from Lochester, a kingdom that was home to totally racist ideals. Why did they come to a place that was supposedly a safe haven just to start a fight, Veronica did not know.

The Princess was clearly outnumbered and outmatched by the opposing army. The glass windows of a nearby magic school had been shattered. and the citizens nearby looked on in horror as the fight raged on. Could no one here actually help? At least somebody here had to have magic that could assist? She supposed average citizens couldn't really do much against a properly trained army. Veronica however was a trained Sorceress. A graduate from Zlelmore Magic Academy. Veronica shook off the thought of jumping into the fray. She was just one young woman against an entire army. Besides, this fight was none of her business, she was only passing through. Then again, helping this cause could be the opportunity to use her gifts for something good for a change. It would also be taking an unnecessary risk. Veronica now had a dilemma.

As she was pondering this, she heard what looked like the commander of the Lochester army speak up. We have spilled no innocent blood. Only the blood of monsters and users of witchcraft, and any who would dare stand in our way." He glared at her. "Do you still wish to defy us? We are cleansing your community. It will be safer thanks to Lochester's doing - and if our Queen has it her way, Seaside Village will change hands permanently, for the good of all true humans who live here."

Hearing that made Veronica's blood boil. Things like that are the reasons non magical humans feared people like her. As if users of witchcraft were any less human than those who didn't have magic! Although, their fears weren't entirely unwarranted, it still stung, Veronica knew she should have been used to hearing things like that, hearing it from somebody with actual authority, using their racist beliefs to justify murder, made it worse. That's it, she had to teach this man a lesson.

She produced two purple fireballs in the palms of her hands, and sent them towards the commander. She aimed for the somewhere that wasn't covered by armor, and managed to burn a little bit of his face. Not too badly, but it would be enough.

Of course, this did alert the man to her presence. "Ah!" He shouted as he rubbed the burn. Then he turned around to face Veronica. "Witchcraft! It doesn't matter. You stand no chance."

Veronica said nothing, clasped her hands together, and started chanting a hex. "Eleka nahmen nahmen Ah tum ah tum eleka nahmen Eleka nahmen nahmen Ah tum ah tum." The chanting wasn't necessary for the hex to work, but it helped her focus. A magical circle appeared beneath the commander's feet, and he was pelted by shadowy balls of magic that caused him intense internal pain. Made worse by the burn he had sustained. He fell to his knees and started screaming with agony. Yes, she was using Dark Magic. She knew Dark Magic was against the law, but Veronica found herself not caring. This man needed to be punished.

She kept it up for a few moments, but was forced to stop when someone else in the army shouted "She used Dark Magic on the commander. Kill the witch!" Then some soldiers charged at her. She waved her arms, and surrounded herself in a circle of purple fire, to keep them from getting closer. It worked, but she couldn't just stand there forever. She knew she didn't have any chance of defeating anyone in an actual physical fight. Ugh, this might have been a bad idea... They were still badly outnumbered, and Veronica only hoped that others would step in.
 
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Cometstarlight

What do I do now?
Hazel Cornix
Seaside Village - Eastern District


Hazel hiked the hood of her cloak over her head as she walked through Seaside Village. It seemed nice enough. The breeze sifting through the town had a delightfully calming scent and the people around her seemed nice enough. She wasn't quite sure if it was because that was just in their nature or if it was an "outcasts stick together" mentality, but either way, she wasn't being hounded down and neither was anyone else she cared about at the moment and that's what mattered. Everything was fine as-

A sharp sound of metal clashing against metal pricked her ears. A fight? Here? Now? People shouted in alarm and ran past her from multiple directions. Rather than ask questions, Hazel darted between two smaller buildings to where the sounds of battle grew more tumultuous. In the midst of the fight were fallen men surrounding a young woman draped in green garb and holding a sword tight in her hand. Obviously she was important on some scale. Hazel was just unsure to what extent that was.

"I will not ask you again," the woman managed to get out, "stand down. We did not come for a battle. I seek safe passage to - "

"Save it child," the Lochester commander said darkly. The two pressed swords, the commander looking to be the winner at this moment. "I have no intention of allowing the princess of Yloria to waltz into the Kingdom of Lochester while our kingdoms are at war with each other. My troops and I have our orders and we do not seek royal council."

Hazel's eyes widened. Princess of Yloria?

The Princess' eyes narrowed. "How dare you! You are making a terrible mistake. We have deployed no troops into Lochester, and I seek only peaceful royal diplomacy, yet you come on our lands unprovoked to spill the blood of innocents? Do you wish death upon your kingdom?!"

The commander frowned at her. "We have spilled no innocent blood. Only the blood of monsters and users of witchcraft, and any who would dare stand in our way." He glared at her. "Do you still wish to defy us? We are cleansing your community. It will be safer thanks to Lochester's doing - and if our Queen has it her way, Seaside Village will change hands permanently, for the good of all true humans who live here."

Hazel could hardly believe what she was hearing. These people were going to purge the town? Her heart faltered as the noise grew to be overwhelming. She took a step back without realizing. She wanted to run. Her instincts screamed for her to flee to someplace else, but she froze. What was she going to do?

There was suddenly a chill in the air followed by the murmurings of what she could only assume to be a curse or a hex. Hazel turned to a violet-haired girl creating a myriad of shadowy purple flames beneath the commander's feet. The dark fire rolled over him and he shouted in agony. Dark magic. Despite being from Zlelmore, it was still a bit of a shock to see someone use it so openly.

"She used Dark Magic on the commander. Kill the witch!" Other soldiers quickly charged her as the girl surrounded herself in her own fire. Did she have a plan? What was she planning on doing? Then Hazel saw it. One of the soldiers had with him a metal spear. He aimed it toward the purple fire and charged. This was it. She couldn't just stand there! Hazel whipped out her crossbow and shot a bolt into the man's shoulder. A pang of regret ran through her. She didn't want to kill these people. The soldier fell to the ground, gripping the wound and bringing back a bloodied hand. Other soldiers rallied to his side and singled her out quickly. This wouldn't work. She'd have to be a bit more assertive.

Hazel pulled off her cloak, casting her crossbow onto it and jumped forward, bursting into wolf form. Now a large canine as black as night, she charged forward, biting into one soldier and tossing him aside. Her lips raised in defense as more soldiers surrounded the three of them. She thought she could be of help, but now she wondered if she needed help of her own.
 

VampirateMace

Internet Overlord
Lord Dimamire Nightshade
Seaside Village - Eastern District


Dimmy strolled down the street humming lightly to himself. Honestly he hated the sun, but this was when humans were awake, not that they seemed to like talking to him, though luckily his large dark cloak provided decent protection. In his hand he clutched a small leather journal, for keeping notes as he tried to find his mother. Admittedly, it was hard to read in the sunlight. . . but at this point he had pretty much everything in it memorized, just because he knew so little about her.

Moving along he tried to figure out where else to ask around to see if he could get any leads, but was soon distracted by a commotion up ahead. There were lots of people standing around in the street, many of whom seemed to be screaming and jeering. Creeping closer, Dimmy pocketed his notes and moved through the crowd, trying to get a look at the object of the crowd's attention. This was one of the times being on the shorter side was particularly annoying. Finally on tiptoe and looking over the shoulders of a pair of men, he saw a well dressed woman wearing a tiara, and several soldiers, some of whom had already fallen. It appeared to be some sort of fight, and this woman was the focus of it.

Circling around, weaving through the crowd, he got the gist of the engagement. This was Yloria princess, being attacked by soldiers from across the sea, over the rights of magical people, with Lochester's guards spewing the usual human arrogance.

Another woman entered the fight, attacking the guard with black magic, a serious offense in any kingdom. That irritated Dimmy as well, as a half-vampire, black magic was his birthright. Other guards came after her, and she surrounded herself in dark fire. Honestly, it was beautiful.

Dimmy was behind the lead guard now. Though he was curled up in pain, and not much of a concern at the moment. Pushing towards the front of the crowd, Dimmy clenched his fingers, charging dark energy into his palms. Not wanting to call too much attention to his location, he held back, releasing the dark fiery blobs with a small throwing motion when they were only a few inches in size. Unfortunately, this compromised both the amount of damage and his accuracy. The first splattered against the shoulder guard of one of the soldiers, splotching a 5x5 inch area with rust, to no real effect. Meanwhile an arrow ripped though another soldier’s shoulder, bringing him down. Dimmy didn't know where it had come from, but the distraction from his movements was welcome. His second shot hit the wrist joint of another guard, rusting armor and corroding the small sliver of exposed skin. The man screamed, “Witchcraft!” and dropped his sword out of panic.

These ignorant fools sure were broken records. Dimmy pushed along the edge of the crowd; changing position, watching, and charging for another attack. A werewolf had entered the fray, dividing the attention of the remaining guards.
 

Schade

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

The seaside village was bursting with life as per usual. Genma had gone there to do some light shopping on behalf of the Lochester monastery, and was standing before a market stall with grocery bags in both his hands. according to his list, he had gotten maybe 95% of everything he was supposed to get, and only needed to fetch a few medicinal items before he could wrap up and head home. Though the village was a cozy place, it was also considered a haven for non-human magical beings, which made Genma slightly nervous. It was no secret he disliked most things non-human, but even then he thought it nice that these lost misguided souls had found a place to relax.

"She used Dark Magic on the commander. Kill the witch!", shouted a man standing near Genma. A guard? He was too busy biting into a piece of pastry to bother, but was immediatly interrupted when a large wolf ran past him, almost knocking him over. Still with his pastry in his mouth, he fling his fist into the air towards the wolf while shouting muffled insults. He disliked werewolves most of all. Filthy beasts. However, more interesting than the werewolf was the scene happening in front of him. How did he not notice any of this? Oh yeah. sweet sweet pastries. The witch in question appeared to be a well-dressed young woman using pretty obvious forbidden magic. Not that that was anything new, not here in the Seaside Village. The werewolf was holding down a guard from Lochester. the sounds of clashing swords now became more prominent. Why hadnt anyone else picked up on this and ran? He turned to look at the market stall, which had now packed up and booted. Anything for a customer, eh? A bit set back by the confusion, Genma stashed his groceries away and pulled out his staff, intent on joining the commotion.

Granted, there was not much he could actually do with the situation, and causing a localized hurricane here would likely do more damage than good. Unfortunately for Genma, he didn't get too much time to think, as a squad of Lochester guards pointed towards him and came running. "You there, cleric! This area is now under restriction! You are interfering with Lochester business! Move away now or we'll cut you down with the other magical filth and the princess!" Wait, princess? what princess? quickly glancing around, he saw her. She was wearing green clothing, and her hair was unmistakable. The Princes of Yloria was here! Apparently, this took Genma a bit too long to realize, for the guards came closer, knocking over his groceries. "You were warned cleric. surrender now or be cut down!" the guards said as they drew their swords and one battleaxe.

in the confusion, as the guards closed in, Genma notice his groceries on the ground. Filthy. "Oh heeeell no!" he said, rudely gesturing with his staff towards the guards. the guards were somewhat confused by this. "W.. what? we warned you..." the guard began to say before Genma cut him off. "Oh hell no your Lochester äss didn't just spoil my groceries! Imma bust yo f***ing face!" Genma shouted at them as he waved his staff around. "Hey now.." the guard tried to talk. "Imma bust yo f***ing face, imma bust yo f***ing knees! You're interfering with the monastery of Zlelmore and as such, interfering with kindness and goodness of all of the kingdom!" Genma continued in a fit of rage while frantically waving his staff as if he was going to stab someone with it. The guards took a few steps back apologetically. "Hey now." the guard with the battleaxe said. "Are we really going to be lectured by a cleric?" he then said a few optimistic words about.. well.. Lochester racism and the glory of man to rally his fellow guards, who bought into it fairly well. "We warned you cleric. It's off to prison for life for you." the battleaxe guy said as they slowly advanced. Thinking fast, Genma then decided on the most peaceful way to solve this issue. like the elders of Zlelmore's monastery had taught him, 'violence is not the answer, but a means to an end'. He raised his staff.

"As darkness dies and light prevails, shrouded in the dim light of hope and love.
Begone darkness, allow the light to blow away all your sins.
The morning comes. The morning prevails. The morning will bring a new hope to your lost cause.
May the gentle breeze blow away your internal struggles, and guide you to a path anew.
Follow the winds of change, let the winds into your heart for the winds will guide you to a new truth.

In the holy name of the winds of change, Air Cutter!"


As his chanting ended, he made several precise waves with his rod, which generated several strong concentrated gust of wind, one that cut the battleaxe in half, one that shredded another guards shield into firewood, one that took another guards head and one that went astray. "Y.. You monster! You will pay for this!" the remaining guards said as they retreated from their comrade whose head slowly fell off in a creepy horror-movie'esque fashion. Genma took one more longful look at his groceries which were now scattered on the ground in the dirt. He gave them a moment of silence before heading towards where the action was. Another man had joined the fight, dressed in a hooded cape. The more the merrier. Genma would stick close to the misfit group of rebels in case they needed healing, even if there was a werewolf and a dark mage amongst them. This day is not going in the direction he had anticipated when he left for the market.
 

Vern

Why not both?
Sullivan Van Daal
Seaside Village - Eastern District


With a bottle of cheap wine in his left hand and his mask in his right, Sullivan saunters through the alleyways of the Seaside Village, humming a tune to himself. The wine had been bought from a nearby street vendor for an absurdly cheap price, and while it tasted pretty bad, it still had the effect of making him feel a good deal happier and more involved in the world. Happy enough that, when he hears the sounds of fighting from nearby, he decides to go and investigate instead of just dismissing it as something that would normally be beneath his notice.

He isn’t disappointed.

First, the flashes of blue on the armour - Lochesterian soldiers, on Yloirian soil? Could it be - an invasion? Did those arrogant fools finally see fit to invade the country they so hated? Well, whatever. He has been looking for some way to express his hatred for that kingdom’s monarchy, and this would be the perfect opportunity. One man in particular looked rather self-important, and Sullivan, downing what remained of the tasteless wine, tosses the bottle aside and moves towards him in an exaggeratedly drunken stagger, hoping to catch them by surprise.

But oh - wait - is that… the princess?

“… has sworn to protect?” The princess’s words float into his ears, and he pauses, curious and surprised. “I would sooner die.” A flash of light - sunlight reflected from a sword - and all of a sudden, blades are clashing. A few Ylorian soldiers stagger to their feet and attempted to engage, but they’re clearly outmatched. Finding their loyalty and their hopeful desperation somewhat funny, Sullivan stands back and crosses his arms, blending into the gathering crowd and deciding to watch as events unfold. For something this amusing, a personal grudge can wait.

And then - fireballs. Slightly intoxicated, he doesn’t make out the caster until a few seconds later - a girl, purple hair, completely unfamiliar. A magic circle had taken shape under the Lochesterian man that had stood out from the rest, and he’s being pelted with shadowy orbs that implied some sort of dark magic. Interesting - whoever that girl was, she’s either suicidal, easily riled up, or, for some god-forsaken reason, had some sense of justice. Besides, isn’t dark magic very explicitly illegal? Well, I suppose I can respect her for using it so openly. Regardless, watching her conjure up that wall of fire to protect herself, she was clearly experienced enough - if not quite as aggressive as he might have hoped.

A man raises a spear and charges at the purple fire girl, but before he can inflict damage, a crossbow bolt nails him in the shoulder and sends him tumbling to the side, right at Sullivan’s feet. Keeping his eyes on the battle, he nonchalantly generates a coat of lightning around his foot and kicks the man in the back of the neck and head a few times, causing him to writhe about for a bit before falling unconscious. And then - amazingly, ludicrously, a werewolf leaps into the fray, ripping at the Lochersterians and forcing its way into the battle. However, it too is quickly surrounded. Nevertheless, with a creature like that snarling away at her side, the princess is probably safe for the moment.

What a bunch of idiots. He thinks, sighing and chuckling to himself as he bends down and examines the unconscious body at his feet with the apathy of an art critic, All these people with pointless senses of justice and empathy… arrogantly declaring it to the world… how laughable. And he laughs - a guffawing, mirthful laughter. The magic circle at the commander’s feet had faded, presumably due to the purple-haired girl’s new focus on defending herself, and the man staggers back upright, obviously fuming. Besides him, another guard shrieks and yells ‘Witchcraft!’ dropping his sword and running. Strange - maybe another person had entered the fray while things were going to hell. A blurred shape dances in and out of the crowd, toppling a few guards.

Now, me… I don’t have any of that. Empathy, justice… nope.

A guard’s head flies through the air to the scream of "Y.. You monster! You will pay for this!”. Sullivan laughs at that, identifying the caster of the spell that had shredded the guard to be a guy dressed in a cleric’s robe, of all things. Regardless, that guy knew how to end a fight - strike fast, strike hard, and don’t look back. This day… it just keeps getting better and better. Grinning, he sets his mask down on the ground with slightly unnecessary caution.

I just want to smash someone’s face in.

Sighing and faking loud hiccup, Sullivan gets up and staggers headfirst into the fray, directly towards the commanding officer, exaggeratedly falling this way and that, laughing and singing senseless words like a complete drunkard. With a chorus of ‘whoops’-s and ‘whoa’-s, he tilts into a few soldiers, grasping onto their shoulders for ‘support’ and sending shocks through their body, causing them to stand bolt upright and shake like an idiot while the contact lasts, and then casually pushing them onto the floor. They got up soon after, cursing, but by then he is already a few steps ahead, and closer to the commander. The man stares at him, confused and surprised, not quite realising what’s going on. Still singing a merry drinking song he remembered from a nearby tavern, Sullivan waltzes up to him and loops his arm around the man’s shoulder.

“H - uh - iickkk - heyyyy, buddy.” He says, the wine he drank earlier helping with his drunk act, “I don’t know why you’re here, aggravating people, but don’tchya just wanna… hi—uckkkk…. go home? Stop spewing your moralistic, self-serving rhetoric… stop acting like the king of the world, like all these great people are beneath your notice because they got born wrong or got bitten by some fancy wolf… Just - gh- get the crap outta this hellhole, and…” suddenly, his eyes flash dangerously, and his previously slurred tone turning dangerously sharp,”fall asleep forever?”

Laughing like a maniac, he draws the guard closer to him, embracing him like a slightly-drunken man would embrace his old friend, and then engulfs his own body in lightning, causing wave after wave of electricity to spread through the lead guardsman, like real waves washing over the seashore. The man screams in pain, yelling something about ‘damned ma-ueee!-ges’ and how his captor deserves to ‘go to he-uahhh!’, as Sully, still holding him tight, starts spinning through the fray and throwing his own body into nearby soldiers, zapping them as he goes, occasionally staggering a little under the man's weight.

A blade knicks him in the shoulder, causing him to drop the commander onto the floor and roll out of the way, wincing in pain and searching for the source of the attack. However, another man swings a blade at his head, and he's forced to turn his attention to the more urgent of preventing his own decapitation, and punches the soldier in the stomach, the lightning crackling and sending him flying backwards, leaving a small gash in his fist where armour met skin. When he turns to look for the commander again, he's already disappeared from sight, hopefully getting his *** kicked by someone else.
 
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*Jean Grey*

Night Triumphant
Sylvia Edelstein
Seaside Village - Eastern District


"Who's on their knees now, you motherfucking cunt?!" Sylvia snarled as she kicked away shattered glass towards the fallen, bleeding man in front of her, and wiped the trickle of her own blood oozing from a small cut on her forehead. All she wanted was a good drink and good company, yet somehow, somehow, someone just had to ruin her day, and said person happened to be a straggling Lochesterian guard who just had to tell her that soon, she'd be behind bars for being an abomination and a thief, if he were to have things his way. She had bluntly pointed out that they were in Ylorian territory, that she hadn't stolen anything, and that he should get stuffed if he wanted more of his own company, and he smugly declared that it wasn't going to be so for long. Sylvia being Sylvia, she retaliated by throwing her glass at him and initiating a bar fight, two vampires joining her in ganging up on him. The outcome of the bar fight wasn't even close, and the younger patrons actually stayed to watch the show.

"You did good, Edelstein, leave the rest to us," in the dimness of the pub (it was a vampire-run pub, after all), a hand squeezed her shoulder. Sylvia looked over her shoulder and saw one of the vampires who participated, smiling in such a way that his fangs were on full display. Oh, she just knew what was about to happen next. She smirked in admiration at his thinking.

"He's all yours," she said, loud enough for anyone to hear, before she decided to head out of the bar. She stepped into the warm sunshine, welcoming the salty sea breeze as she pondered on what she needed to do next. After walking a short distance, however, the salty scent was gone, and that her lupine sense of smell had picked up a different scent - a mixture of blood, ashes and a different sort of air. She rushed towards the direction of the scent and noticed that there were even more Lochesterian soldiers, and a fight had ensued. A distinct purple-haired female caught her attention.

The fuck? The princess is here? She thought. That purple hair was unmistakeable.

"Save it child," what looked to be the Lochester commander said darkly. The two pressed swords, the commander looking to be the winner at this moment. "I have no intention of allowing the princess of Yloria to waltz into the Kingdom of Lochester while our kingdoms are at war with each other. My troops and I have our orders and we do not seek royal council."

"How dare you! You are making a terrible mistake. We have deployed no troops into Lochester, and I seek only peaceful royal diplomacy, yet you come on our lands unprovoked to spill the blood of innocents? Do you wish death upon your kingdom?!" The princess replied.

"We have spilled no innocent blood. Only the blood of monsters and users of witchcraft, and any who would dare stand in our way. Do you still wish to defy us? We are cleansing your community. It will be safer thanks to Lochester's doing - and if our Queen has it her way, Seaside Village will change hands permanently, for the good of all true humans who live here. Now," the commander drew his sword again, as did the rest of his army. "be a good girl and go home to your father. Cease this embarrassment of a defense at once." At this, Sylvia's temper flared up and her expression hardened. Lochesterian law was based on stupid, unnecessary cowardice and racism. She was a werewolf, but she ate like a person, talked like a person and did many things like a person. It was almost as if Lochesterians created their stupid laws over being butthurt about anything that could have an advantage over them. Which was nothing new, given that even just now, the commander was acting like an entitled twat.

Two purple fireballs flew out of a darkly-dressed lavender-haired young girl's hands, and hit the commander on the face. This caused the man to turn around.

"Witchcraft! It doesn't matter. You stand no chance." The girl did not reply, but instead, began chanting what sounded like a hex. A purple magic circle appeared beneath the commander's feet, and he was pelted by shadowy balls of magic that caused him intense internal pain. He fell to his knees and started screaming with agony.

"She used Dark Magic on the commander. Kill the witch!" Sylvia saw that the soldiers had now focused their attention to the girl, who defended herself by surrounded herself in a circle of purple fire to keep them from getting closer. A vampire had stepped in began using his own magic to deal with some of the guards, prompting more cries of "witchcraft", and a werewolf - black but considerably smaller than her own wolf form - had joined the fray. Rounding off the ragtag bunch was a light-haired man with a staff, casting wind magic made so sharp that it cut a battle-axe, a shield and even another guard's head.

That's it, time to handle these damn bastards, she thought as she stepped in without a second thought, brandishing her scythe and swinging it brutally. She loved a good battle, and even moreso when it involved Lochesterian cowards. She managed to hack deep into the back of one of the guards, promptly making him collapse. Another one struck below her shoulder, and she quickly turned around and punched him square on the face and kneed him in the groin with the sharp spikes that adorned the tops of her greaves. He stumbled back, and she used the opportunity to brandish her scythe and slash at him, aiming for his neck. A gush of blood spurted out from the side and he fell. She didn't stop there, however, she placed a boot on his torso and hacked further at him until he ceased moving. Blood had splattered on her face, but that wasn't a big deal. She was all too used to blood and more brutal things. She made for the soldiers surrounding the princess, the dark magic user and the werewolf, and struck one of them from the back. This one was apparently more skilled, because he quickly turned around and retaliated by stabbing her in the shoulder. Blood poured out, and upon noticing it, Sylvia focused, her scythe subtly trembling as if her blood had just called out to it somehow. My pain, my blood...will be their suffering, she thought.

She struck once more, harder and stronger, knocking him down but not killing him. She took her chance to join the others and stood her ground. The commander, who had been dropped on the ground by an electric elementalist who had jumped in at the same time as she did, took sight of her and grinned wolfishly as he turned his attention away from the blond.

"And look what we just dragged in. A common thief and an irreverent at that," he remarked as he got up. Sylvia scowled. Thief? "Shame on you, stealing from the royal family and showing off like that. If my queen had it her way, she'd throw you in the dungeons and have your head. For the good of all upstanding humans of Lochester," he continued, regarding her as if she were scum. Now Sylvia was really angry. Steal from the royal family? What the hell did she steal anyway? It sounded like he was making things up just to catch her off guard. And dungeons? Been there, done that. Impulsively, she began to shift. First her wolf ears came out, then black fur began to cover her body.

"Don't forget the infamous escaped prisoner and werewolf, son of a bitch," she reminded him, holding up her bare, branded knuckles. Her voice came across as an aggressive growl as her face began to change to that of a wolf's, and then her raised hand became a paw with sharp claws, sharper than her already-sharp nails. His eyes widened, and she wasted no time in dropping her weapon and jumping on him, mauling his face. It wasn't as if any of the guards could probably handle a Zielmore-forged scythe anyway.

"I don't know who spared you. I don't know who possessed anyone to spare you, but you're better off dead. Monsters like you don't deserve to live!" He snarled, headbutting Sylvia before he turned his head. The remaining guards in the area surrounded her and forced her off, before brandishing their own weapons at her. As she bit down on one guard, another knocked her down to the ground and kicked her hard on her head. Sylvia only had enough time to reach for her scythe and grab it. She was outnumbered, but she was going to fight on anyway. There was so much blood shed that her weapon was probably going to have a field day. They were definitely outnumbered, but she was confident she had a lot of fight left in her to keep going. Besides, she was only going to worry about losing her mind when she actually got there.

"Come at me, bitches," she challenged, her voice a war cry as she got up, bleeding but intact.
 
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TikTok13

Oh, I have a title?
Zane Crowley
Seaside Village - Eastern Village


With a nervous shudder, Zane looked up to the sky as though a thousand arrows were about to fall on him. Even though it was day, he knew it was only a few more days until the rising of the full moon. Shrugging his shoulders as if to shake away his fear, he started to walk quickly down the streets of the Seaside Village, casting anxious glances around him. A cold wind buffeted him, and he pulled his frayed jacket closer around his body, releasing a quiet sneeze. It wasn't that bad, being here. It really was a shame that he'd have to leave after his transformation. Perhaps it would be wise to start packing...

As Zane became fixated on two birds in the sky, he allowed his mind to wander into the mysterious depths it so often explored. Sometimes he wondered if he'd be a different person if he wasn't a werewolf; would he be as kind to those who were disadvantaged? Or would he have adopted an arrogant nature of superiority? It was still not forgotten to Zane that, if he was not infected with Lycanthropy, he would still be on his way to becoming a skilled mage.

He was snapped out of his reminiscent thinking by a clash of metal and an eruption of chaotic noises, followed later by a harsh yell of: "She used Dark Magic on the commander. Kill the witch!"

With a gasp of restrained panic, Zane's hand flew instinctively to his pocket, where his knife resided; his staff was lodged between his jacket and back. He started to run towards the source of the noise, even though all of his conscience went against it. Zane rounded a corner, and saw numerous soldiers clashing against each other. Mixed amongst the flashing of swords was a short, violet-haired girl who Zane assumed was the magician, as she was holding no visible weapon. But that wasn't the odd thing - a large sable dog was tearing at the soldiers with a look of bloodthirsty glee. At least, it looked like a dog. But that unnatural size was familiar to Zane; it was another werewolf. Obviously one that was much more in control of their powers that he was, seeing as they were in wolf form outside of a full moon, something that Zane had never even attempted to learn.

A second glance showed that they were all surrounding another purple-haired woman, this one draped in robes of brilliant emerald. Familiar, but Zane struggled to put a name to the face. As if this wasn't enough, Zane saw yet another werewolf changing before his eyes, already attacking. A sense of weakness swept over Zane; he was ashamed of his condition, hated it, even, but it could be of some use. Feeling a surge of importance sweep through him, he fixed his face into a frown and charged towards the crowd of warriors.

Approaching faster than he anticipated, he jumped over a bleeding body instantly, descending straight into the action. Zane grabbed someone by the back of the neck, a soldier, hopefully on the opposing side. He drew his knife before the soldier seemed to know what was going on, and drove it straight into the man's side, careful not to deal a fatal wound. They he let go and pushed the man back with a kick. Concealing his knife and pulling out his staff quickly, Zane swung the wooden pole around his head wildly, hearing three satisfying thunks as a collision was made.

Casting a desperate look around, he saw the other werewolves turning on people left and right, and he half wanted to join them, or at least tell them he was one of them, but his better judgement told him not to, that he was being stupid. Then he saw a soldier draw nearer to someone with purple hair - absolutely no idea who - and without thinking, Zane let out a yell.
"Hey!" His weak voice cracked, but their was undeniable determination. He charged at the man, who was taken aback by Zane's exclamation, and grabbed him by the waist, bringing him to the ground in a tumble of limbs.

But the soldier - a gruff, bearded man - threw Zane off and then clambered over him, pinning the young werewolf down with his knees. Then, the man drew a knife and raised it high, prepared for one fatal stroke that would end Crowley's short life.
 

Minteh

It's so shiny!
Lyn Grier
Seaside Village - Eastern District​

Her time in the village had been fairly uneventful to that day. Set on a task to retrieve a recipe for Gunther, Lyn had left for the small village with a sense of apprehension filling her. She had never ventured any further than Zlelmore before, so the journey to a Ylorian town had seemed somewhat daunting to her. However, she needn't have worried, for the journey had proven to thus far be pleasurable.

In the days when she hadn't been searching for Gunther's former apprentice, she had spent her time sampling food from local taverns and vendors, or simply meandering the streets, following anything that caught her interest. Lyn had heard mixed opinions on the people of Yloria and Lochester all her life, but all those she had met so far were pleasant and accommodating, save for one man, who when asked to help, sneered at her and referred to her as a "swamp hag".

Finding the her predecessor had been a difficult task in itself, but after chasing a few leads, she was eventually able to find her. The woman was more than happy to write the recipe down for her. She was a talkative and friendly woman, and Lyn could see why Gunther regarded her as one of his favourite students. She felt a little guilty when, upon actually looking at the recipe, saw how closely it resembled the other recipes for sleeping elixirs in his book.

Thanking the woman for her hospitality, Lyn took her leave, cutting through one of the back alleys as a shortcut to return to the inn she was staying at. She was taken by surprise when she started to hear what sounded like a fight occurring, steel clashing again steel, and the shouts of rage. After taking note of where some of the citizens were fleeing from, Lyn headed in the same direction herself, not so much to fight, but more out of curiosity to see what was going on. In the midst of the fight stood a young woman dressed in a gown of green, sword tightly held in one hand. She looked important, and in truth her features seemed vaguely familar, but she could not put a name to the face. Around her lay the bodies of fallen men, clearly taken down by the adversaries she now faced more or less alone.

It soon became apparent that Lyn was not the only one drawn by the sound, as others had appeared, distracting some of the armoured men, and evening out the fight. Ducking down behind a crate, Lyn kept out of the way for a moment. She missed out on much of the conversation that had taken place, only hearing shouts of "Kill the witch!". From where she was crouched, she watched as a man, who she presumed was another mage, enveloped one of the soldiers in a veil of electricity, after drawing him into what appeared a bizarre embrace. Elsewhere a woman was busy dispatching to some of the other guards, after having a brief conversation with him, in which he snarled that monsters like her didn't deserve to live. Lyn instinctively wondered if she was perhaps a werewolf or vampire.

Closest to her, a young man had shouted out to one of the soldiers, who was a approaching a person with purple hair. With the man caught off guard, he had turned to the voice, only to be tackled to the ground by said man. They had grappled for a moment, before the guard got the upper hand, swiftly pinning the younger man down, and preparing to do a potentially fatal blow.

Deciding to step into the fray at the moment, Lyn found the closest object she could find - which in this case was a small rock - and threw it at the assailant just as he went to swing his knife down. As it wasn't a large rock, it was obvious that it would do little damage, but it had done enough to distract him and turn his attention to her.

"Hey, how about you pick on someone your own size?" She jeered at him, which in turn earned a smirk. Still gripping his blade, he stood up from pinning the man, moving towards Lyn instead. He was still smirking as he approached, perhaps finding it laughable that she was saying that, when she was shorter compared to him. If only he knew she thought to herself, as a wicked smile formed on her face.

As he went to swing the blade at her, she turned clockwise and grabbed his wrist with her right hand, just narrowly avoiding a blade to the shoulder. Caught off guard by this, she was able to grip his wrist with her other hand too, and then twisted anti-clockwise. With a swift movement, she dropped to one knee, taking her opponent down to the ground with her. As he hit the floor, the blade fell from his hand, landing to the side of him. She knocked the blade away before he could make a grab for it.

"Stay down," She warned, as she rose back to her feet, "or I'll make you stay down."

With the guard incapacitated for now, she went to the side of the man, offering out a hand to get him back on his feet.

Once he was stood up again, she drew out her small dagger, the blade making a satisfying sound as it slid out. Lyn didn't know how much longer the fight would last, but since she was involved in it now, she needed something more helpful than a stone to defend her.
 

Tangeh

Well-Known Member
Princess Gwendolyn
Seaside Village - Eastern District


The sword of the commander struck heavily against Gwen's, and she groaned as he threatened to overpower her. He could kill her if he wished it - though more likely she would be held for ransom to force her father to surrender. Just when her arms were about to give out, the commander fell back with a cry of pain, clutching at his face. Gwen panted and her sharp lilac eyes quickly caught onto the source of the distraction - a young purple haired woman was now chanting what sounded like gibberish. Fortunately Lochester's hatred of magic seemed to overpower the guard's desire to defeat her, and she was abandoned. She quickly tried to regain herself but started as the commander began screaming in agony. Black magic - she'd learned about it of course, and all the reasons why it was illegal, but she'd never seen it performed before. Many of the soldiers halted in their fight to bring justice against the so-called "witch". Even a few of her own men hesitated, but then quickly took advantage of the distraction to target the enemy knights.

A werewolf bounded forward to assist the mage, and fireballs were hurled toward the enemy from an ally in the shadows. More and more citizens (or refugees - Gwen quickly came to the conclusion that many of these people were probably repressed by Lochester themselves) stepped forward to help - magical humans, werewolves, and non-magical humans alike took up the battle in her fallen army's place. The commander sufficiently distracted, the rest of the army was beginning to get frightened and disorganized. A lone soldier charged her out of nowhere and Gwen parried him momentarily before knocking him to the ground. To her pleasure, she suspected he had been injured in a previous battle and had been using his non-dominant arm. She thrust a sword at the enemy's neck. "Guard!" she called. Her most trusted guard, Sir Emerick, came running and placed the fallen soldier in handcuffs. She noted the rest of her army was beginning to do that with all of the enemy fallen soldiers that were still alive. Later they would haul them off to the dungeons for questioning and to dissuade future armies from invading their lands.

"Are you injured?" Emerick asked her swiftly, not looking up.

"No. I'm fine." She stood, surveying the battlefield for a moment. "You need to alert the guards stationed at the northern point of Seaside Village. We can hold them off, probably even defeat them, but we need backup." Her guard bowed and left. The princess re-entered the battle, swiftly meeting her sword with an enemy solder's. For being so close to defeat, Yloria and Lochester now seemed evenly matched. Maybe this hadn't been a suicide mission after all.
 

VampirateMace

Internet Overlord
Lord Dimamire Nightshade
Seaside Village - Eastern District


Dimamire kept to the edges of the crowd, watching as the unfolding violence escalated. As he prepared to toss another ball of dark magic at one of the Lochesterian guards, he noticed yet another player in their game, wielding the power of wind to great effect, as he even managed to decapitate one of the guards, misting the area in blood. Beyond the healthy share of self-righteous indignation, Dimmy found the bloodshed emboldening as well, as it excited his vampire instincts. The scent and the visceral shades of red.

He let the dark magic charge grow a little larger before throwing it this time, launching it through the chaos and downing a guard by hitting the exposed area at the back of the knee. The man yelped in pain as his knee collapsed under him. Down, though only from the surprise of the suddenly inflamed skin, this man would be easy prey for the others.

Enter the drunk, that was a bit bizarre, but Dimmy wasn't about to try and stop him. And another werewolf, okay, now things were getting intense. He tossed out another small black fireball of magic, narrowly missing his target and leeching the ground behind him instead.

Dimmy came to break in the crowd now. There was a stall between the group he was in and those watching from the other side. The crowd had simple formed at a 'safe' distance around the battle where it could. He knew he could just slip through quickly, still avoiding the main action, but at this point he wasn't sure he need to hide his location anymore. His identify sure, after all black magic was black magic, and illegal despite his heritage, but his identify was safe under a hood, anyone could own a hood. That in itself would not be evidence.

Latching onto a rope tied to the stall's banner with one hand, and placing the other against the stall wall, he easily hoisted himself up. Truth was, he could walk right up walls when he wanted, but between already expending a decent amount of magic and the irritating sunlight, he didn't feel like making the effort. Boosting himself up onto the flimsy roof of the stall, thank goodness he was a featherweight, and taking a kneeling position, he had an excellent view of the action.

Dimmy recharged as he surveyed the current situation. The Lochesterian captain seemed to be in even more distress then before, with even more independent fighters joining the confrontation and several more of his men down. One however, seemed to have trapped a slightly scruffy young man down on his knees, but a woman came to his rescue before Dimmy had charged his magic enough to act. The unity against such tyranny was beautiful. And then, the Ylorian princess herself was sending one of her guards off, likely with a message about this encounter.

Dimmy cracked a wide sharp toothed grin, now raising a fully charged black fireball, and launched it towards a soldier foolish enough to try and detour the princess' messenger, splashing the Lochesterian's face with decaying magic. He reeled back, screaming and clutching his face, as the princess' guard continued forward and passed into the crowd. Snickering to himself, Dimmy launched the other ball at him, rusting his arm and hand bracers in place over his face, effectively blinding him.

A few of the other guards had spotted him now, but what were they going to do? One waved his sword angrily, and another clumsily loaded a crossbow. Dimmy leaned to one side, letting the arrow zip harmlessly past him. Fools.
 
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Monster Guy

Fairy type Trainer
Veronica Lance
Seaside Village - Eastern District


Shortly after Veronica had gotten herself involved in this fight, the violence escalated. A man decided to raise his spear, and go charging at Veronica, despite being surrounded by magical fire. The man was shot in the shoulder from an arrow before the man or Veronica had any chance to do anything. Just as the other soldiers tried to avenge their fallen friend, a black wolf that fought too intelligently to just be a wild animal, joined the fray. Veronica had read books about lycanthropy, but never actually interacted with one. She had no plans to change that any time soon. Veronica raised her arm, and threw the purple flame she had surrounded herself at a group of soldiers. Some of them got burned, while others dispersed and fled. The Sorceress took this opportunity to step away from the fight, and properly observe the situation.

Veronica noticed a mysterious figure in a hooded cloak staying at the edges of the crowd, throwing balls of what was clearly dark magic at enemy soldiers. Keeping your identity hidden was an intelligent choice. One Veronica wished she had adhered to herself. She had just used illegal magic in public. In front of the princess no less. She had wanted to avoid getting thrown in prison... Watching the violence in front of her, she was starting to regret her choice. She had only meant to teach the commander a lesson, not start needless bloodshed. Sure, she probably saved the princess' life, but now this was only going to cement Lochester's racist ideals...

There was a drunken young man using lightning magic to physically brawl with the enemy. As well as another man that dressed like a cleric of some sort. He used Wind magic to great effect, going so far as to behead one of the soldiers. It was an impressive display of magic for sure, but Veronica still rolled her eyes. Elemental magic was just as capable of causing harm as any curse, but only dark magic had to be forbidden by law. As far as Veronica was concerned, it was completely unfair.

The good news was that the battle was no longer in the Lochesterian's favor. The Princess had sent one of her guards off. Likely for reinforcements. Perfect! All they needed to do now was stall for time untill they got here. Well, she had already performed dark magic in front of the princess. Things can't get any worse now.

Veronica waved her hands, and used the necromancy skills she had picked up in Zlelmore. In a puff of black smoke, a pair of skeletal cats the size of a tiger appeared next to her on either side. "Keep them occupied my pets." Veronica told her creations.

With that, the skeletal felines jumped into the fight, and mauled a pair of soldiers, catching them completely by surprise. Of course, who expects to be attacked by a skeleton tiger. The creatures were then attacked by the enemy soldiers, and reduced to a pile of bones. but all Veronica had to do was wave her hand, and they were reformed, and ready to fight.

A few soldiers noticed what she was doing, and made their way towards her. Veronica simply made a gesture with her hands, and muttered the word "Night Shade." Suddenly, her enemys were surrounded by black fog. Showing them a vision of their worst fear. They were suddenly gripped by terror, and fled like scared little children. Even Veronica couldn't help giggling at the sight of it. A part of her enjoyed seeing grown men run away in terror by her own hand. The enjoyment of the suffering of others is the reason people feared practitioners of the dark arts like herself, and that's why she had to keep those urges in check. She would never be able to improve the reputation of dark mages if she acted on them.

Right now, her goal was to keep these men busy until the battle reached it's end.
 

Minteh

It's so shiny!
Lyn Grier
Seaside Village - Eastern District


After taking down her opponent, Lyn kept to the edges of the crowd, doing her best to avoid getting caught up in the major scuffle that was involved. It was not because she did not want to fight, but compared to some of the other civilians who had chosen to help, Lyn lacked a true weapon or magic. The closest she had was her dagger, whilst although sharp enough to cut or stab someone, would do little in a fight unless she got up close and personal. And she just knew that her dagger wouldn't put up much of a fight against the larger weapons of the soldiers. Using hand-to-hand combat was also a potential option she weighed in her mind. There was no doubt she could pin down a few more of the men if she wanted to, but again, their weapons could cut her down before she had the chance.

Compared to when she had first arrived, the battle seemed to be more even now - perhaps even leaning towards a victory for the young woman and those who had rushed in to help her.

As Lyn remained on the sidelines, silently debating what to do next, she watched as a young woman created two skeletal cats using magic, instructing them to attack some of the soldiers. Lyn watched as they mauled a pair of soldiers, catching them completely by surprise. A Zlelmore native, Lyn was quick to recognise the attack as a form of black magic. Closer to Lyn, she noticed a hooded figure, also choosing to stay on the edges of the crowd, throwing balls of what appeared to be black magic at some of the soldiers. Some of them had noticed this little act, and were beginning to approach him, unsteadily raising their weapons. Lyn considered going over to help him, but upon seeing how he casually let one arrow zoom past him, he was likely capable of taking them out on his own.

Although she had opted not to help the other man for the time being, there were others who did. Not far from she had pinned one of the soldiers, she could see three soldiers banding together, thinking that they would fare better attacking together. Much like the soldiers who attacked the hooded man, they seemed somewhat incompetent compared to some of their allies, though perhaps they could have been growing nervous, noting how many of their fellow soldiers had already fallen. Rooting around in her bag, Lyn looked for something she could used. Besides a few vials which clunked against each other and Lyn rooted around, there were only cuttings of a few plants she had taken on her way to Yloria. As quick as she could, she took note of which potions she had. Besides a few healing potions, she had one sleeping potion left from those she bought with her, which seemed like the best option for this moment. Although harmless enough on its own, mix it with a little bit of Miredom red-cap and you had something more potent. Grabbing a small stem of the mushroom from her bag, she removed the cork from the vial, and popped the stem inside, before putting the cork back. Giving the vial a swift shake, she watched as the pale blue liquid darkened. Once it had changed into a sufficient enough colour, she moved closer to the group of soldiers and threw the vial at them. As intended, the vial landed at their feet, and weak glass shattered easily, spilling the contents into a small puddle. One of the guards absently kicked the stem of mushroom with his shoe, eyes searching for who had thrown the vial. However, his search was not to last for long, for a thin wisp of blue-grey steam was beginning to rise from the puddle, drifting upwards to the would be assailants. It did not take long for the effects to kick in, and whilst the leader of the three managed to stumble aimlessly forward, his companions quickly fell to the floor, swiftly succumbing to the potion. Moments later the lead soldier fell too.

Lyn smiled satisfyingly at the scene. As she looked around, she could see the battle beginning to thin, she had a feeling that this would not last for much longer. Still wary about directly engaging another opponent, Lyn remained on the edges of the battle, waiting to swoop in to help with any injuries.
 

TikTok13

Oh, I have a title?
Zane Crowley
Seaside Village - Eastern District


Before the guard could end Zane's life, a stone hit him in the back of the head. Feeling a wave of relief envelop him, Zane could only watch, winded, as the guard rushed to his feet and made his way towards the perpetrator, a woman with brown hair and tan skin. He watched, half in awe and half in fear as the woman easily felled the guard and disarmed him.

His saviour then decided to come over to him. Zane tried to raise himself up quickly, but failed to do so. The woman, her dark green cloak flapping, held out a hand, and without hesitation, Zane grabbed it, allowing her to help him up. He nodded his thanks with a weak smile as she disappeared into the combat, leaving Zane quite alone once more.

It was obvious by now that there was a surprising concentration of magicians in this fight; the reality of which irritated Zane slightly. If only he could help! Lightning, fire, unnatural gusts of wind, all of these and more were assaulting the opposition. If it wasn't for this stupid werewolf bite!

Zane frowned as he watched all the chaos unfolding. Despite being in the midst of the combat, he was going almost completely unnoticed. He was sure many people had died; blood soaked the streets. There would be many mourning families tonight. What was it they were actually fighting for? Surely a battle of this scale doesn't happen without reason. It all seemed to be too large a thing for Zane, like some great adventure were about to begin.

He was snapped out of his philosophical thoughts by a raging warrior with a mace. Quite a real threat, but oddly enough, no fear struck Zane's heart. Maybe there was a good cause for standing up against the soldiers of Lochester? Shrugging it off, Zane slipped down to the ground, so that he was level with the mace-man's knees. With a single swift motion, Zane drew his knife and slashed vertically along the side of the soldier's leg. He felt the tear of muscles, felt the rip of flesh. Pulling his knife out quickly, he turned anticlockwise, spinning his leg so that it smashed straight into the soldier's kneecap. He let out a howl of pain, and fell forwards, sprawling on the dirt.

Taking advantage of this incapacitated guard, he searched for any weapons on his body. Two serrated knives caught his fancy. Zane picked them up quickly, testing their weight. Then he spotted another soldier, about to land a blow on someone - whoever it was was obscured from his vision. Zane threw one of the new knives with all his might, and without waiting to see if it had made contact, he turned around once more, now every person in soldier's armour becoming a target.
 

Tangeh

Well-Known Member
Princess Gwendolyn
Seaside Village - Eastern District


The battle raged on, and it was clear that the tides were beginning to turn in Yloria's favour. The ground was littered with Lochester soldiers - some had perished in battle, but more were either gravely injured or faking it to spare themselves. Sir Emerick had returned with plenty of reinforcements, forcing any remaining Lochesterians to surrender. Gwendolyn walked purposefully up to the commander - severely injured and barely able to stand, thanks to the work of the bystanders who had leapt in to assist. Claw marks down his face had left him partially blinded and his face bloodied. His hands and legs had been bound by the work of her battalion. She approached and raised her sword to his neck. The commander spat at her feet, but Gwen held a steely expression. "Mark my words, girl," he growled, "you employ these disgusting creatures to fight for you, you're not just going to open Yloria up to be overrun by them, but endanger the entire realm. They aren't human, they don't think like us. We will not stand by and watch."

"No," Gwen mused, "you shall not." She withdrew her sword and turned to her army. "Guards, take the filth to the Capital's dungeons. If any are too weak to be questioned or put to work, have them publicly executed. Send reinforcements from the Capital to guard Seaside Village and the surrounding borders - clearly their priority targets are the magical races we harbour within this very district. Next time we will be prepared." Her soldiers obediently began hauling the enemy lines together in preparation for the journey back.

"You think it's wise to be so aggressive against the Lochester invasion?" Sir Emerick spoke in a low voice. "Your father would not agree with this."

"This isn't aggression, it's defending our territory. If Lochester believes they can waltz in here and do whatever they please..." Gwen trailed off, noting her guards were starting to approach both the purple haired mage whom had first step up to help her, and a hooded figure standing in the back. "What are you doing?" Gwen snapped, causing them to freeze. "I gave you your orders."

"Both of them are users of black magic, we all witnessed it!" one of her guards argued. "Self-defense or not, this is highly illegal - "

"Cleared, of all charges, both of them - all of them," Gwendolyn immediately interjected, stepping closer. "How dare you attempt to arrest them - honestly, sometimes I wonder..." She thrust her sword in the direction of the dark sorceress, "you." She adjusted her sword to point at the hooded figure, "you." Next she pointed her sword at the dark-haired werewolf with the large scythe, the burnette green-cloaked potion wielder, and the tall cleric, "you, you, you." Her sword landed on the scruffy man wearing a leather jacket, the electric mage whom may have been drunk, and finally on the werewolf wielding a crossbow, "you, you, and you. Step forward, please." Sir Emerick approached to stand beside her, his arms crossed. The princess withdrew her sword and politely curtsied to the eight saviors she had called to stand in front of her, causing some of her own army to whisper amongst themselves in surprise. "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..." Her gaze shifted to her own army. "Guards, you are dismissed. Go back to the capital and deliver the Lochesterian soldiers as I told you. After this nearly horrendous defeat, I think a drastic change of tactic is in order."

Emerick quirked a brow. "Princess?"

"You eight," Gwen continued, "are now legally conscripted to accompany and guard me to Lochester's Capital. 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?" Emerick continued, more audibly now. "We don't know the background of any of these people - and werewolves, black mages...?"

"Precisely," Gwen said sharply. "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.

"Lochester knows how to deal with riff raff, don't waste your pretty head," the commander insisted, scowling. The guard handling him shoved his head down and began berating him about respecting royalty.

"Certainly," Emerick said, "Lochester would perceive this as a threat, bringing races they have banished from the kingdom directly into the heart of the Capital?"

"If we're seen as a threat within our own kingdom, I hardly think it would matter," Gwendolyn insisted, then turned to her eight new allies. "My word is law, you have no choice in the matter - that said, if you've ever wanted a chance to make a true difference in the world, it's fallen right into your lap. Prove to Yloria that you can be heroes, and the lives of everyone who has ever been judged for their race will be forever changed. Of course, I will guarantee a handsome reward as well..." Gwen turned, gesturing toward the dockyard. "The royal ship is docked nearby. My personal guard, Sir Emerick, will captain it." She began walking, 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, Emerick quickly falling into step next to her.
 
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VampirateMace

Internet Overlord
Lord Dimamire Nightshade
Seaside Village - Eastern District


Dimmy looked smugly down at the guard with the crossbow, as if to say, did you really just try that? I can climb walls and shoot balls of dark magic, and you think you were going to get me with a sloppy crossbow shot?

In light of the guards below feebly attacking him, he wasn't paying too much attention to the rest of the battlefield. But he was aware that more magic and attacks were happening. Front and center, hard to miss was a pair of skeletal cats, and small masses of black fog. More black magic he assumed.

Dimmy landed a shot on the crossbow itself, rusting the mechanism, so that it was useless. Comically the guard dropped it, and he and his sword waving companion looked at each other a movement, before deciding to hightail it to another part of the battlefield. Not that there was much of anywhere to run, between the giant mushrooms, skeletal cats, and werewolves. The battle was pretty much coming to an end now.

The princess' guard returned shortly with reinforcements, and the princess rebuked the enemy captain, now bound by her men. Dimmy took the break in action as the finale, and leapt gracefully from his perch, landing on his feet below. Members of the crowd and the princess' guard seemed to be eying him. Then they were approaching. Wait, what? He should really have paid more attention before getting within their reach. Dimmy was thinking he may have to fight his way out of this to escape, but the princess called out to correct them and pardoned those who had fought alongside her. . . and furthermore to declare they were now in her service?

Wait again, what? No, no, no. She was demanding the come with her to Lochester's Capital as her guards in a legally binding verbal contract? Dimmy blinked, surely he'd just been out in the sun too long. . . No now she was telling them they had no choice, to come to her ship, which her manservant-soldier would captain. . . and introduce themselves.

Okay that was enough. Dimmy was not a simpleton or a servant of her kingdom, nor did he have any desire to go to Lochester just yet. Irritated he ran up behind her and the guard, matching their pace as he reached them. He cleared his throat and spoke up, trying to be polite, but also assertive. She might be just a human, but she was a princess, and a lady, who had stood up for the right of magical people “Excuse me, my lady. 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 biding. . . 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?” he lowered his voice, “I mean, I'm pretty sure some of them were just killing people on a whim.”
 

Monster Guy

Fairy type Trainer
Veronica Lance
Seaside Village - Eastern District


As the battle raged on, and it was clear it was going to end soon. The ground was litered with enemy soldiers. It wasn't clear wether all of them were really dead, or just faking it in order to get out of the battle. The princess's guard returned with reinforcements, bringing the fight to a close. The princess cuffed the commander, and the reinforcements took prisoners. Veronica waved her hands, causing her skeletal cats to vanish. Now, she had to figure out how to get out unnoticed. She did just break the law in front of the princess after all.

The soldiers did notice her trying flee, and they were already starting to approach her, and the hooded figure. Veronica couldn't say she didn't see this coming. She knew it was a bad idea to get involved in the affairs of others, yet she did it anyway. Maybe she deserved it. She did burn down a building and kill people trapped inside.

Just as she had resigned herself to her fate, the princess stopped them. "What are you doing? I gave you your orders."

"Both of them are users of black magic, we all witnessed it!" one of her guards argued. "Self-defense or not, this is highly illegal - " One of the soldiers snapped back.

"Cleared, of all charges, both of them - all of them,"

Veronica raised an eyebrow. Did she just pardon them? That certainly was a surprise. The princess was just going to let a pair of black magic users walk free? There had to be a catch. Which, of course there was. The princess had declared that all of them were in her service. Compared to the alternative, didn't seem like such a bad thing.

While she didn't like the idea of being someone's bodyguard against her will, she didn't have much choice in the matter. Even this weren't a legally binding contract, the princess would likely blackmail her with a prison sentence if she didn't go along with it. Besides. Veronica now had the opportunity to do what she had always wanted, using her magic to make a difference in the world. The fact that she would get paid for it was simply a nice bonus. Even though she really did need the money.

Veronica was slowly making her way to the dockyard. She didn't bother saying a word, as introductions weren't exactly her strong suit. The other black magic user was protesting. Did he say he was from Khusha? Wasn't that a primarily Vampire kingdom? Was he one too? That would explain the magic he used... It didn't really matter. He did have a point. She was taking a bunch of people she didn't know the first thing about, which would be an unnecessary risk. Normally, Veronica would have agreed with him. However, the circumstances here were different. It was either join the princess in whatever she's trying to do, or sit and rot in prison. The choice here was obvious. "Your protesting is pointless..." Veronica bluntly responded. "It's either this, or prison. Which would you prefer?"
 

Minteh

It's so shiny!
Lyn Grier
Seaside Village - Eastern District


As the battle continued to rage on, it was soon apparent that this fight was almost over. The ground was littered with the bodies of the enemy soldiers. From where Lyn stood in relative cover, it was difficult to tell whether they were alive or dead. Either way the tide had clearly turned in favour, which Lyn was relieved at, not wanting to waste more of her potions on knocking out the soldiers. The battle well and truly swung in their favour, when the guard protecting the woman (who Lyn had now recalled to be the princess) returned with reinforcements, promptly forcing the enemy soldiers to stand down. Whilst the princess dealt with what Lyn presumed to the commander, the reinforcements went about securing other prisoners.

With the battle won, Lyn wasn't sure what to do, and remained where she was, observing the scene quietly. Although she knew she should really stay, a part of her wanted to turn and make a run for it, a growing fear that she was in deep trouble beginning to grow inside of her. It was silly of her to feel scared and she knew it. Out of all the civilians who had come to the rescue of the princess, Lyn had the least reason to be fearful of being reprimanded. The notion of her making a break for it soon left her, when she noticed how the soldiers were beginning to approach the two magic users, perhaps intending on hauling them off to prison as well, despite the heroics that had been performed. The woman who had created the two skeletal cats earlier seemed resigned to her fate, almost accepting of what was about to happen to her, but before the soldiers had a chance to secure her, a voice stopped them.

"What are you doing? I gave you your orders." The princess said, stopping the guards in their tracks.

"Both of them are users of black magic, we all witnessed it!" One of her soldiers argued. "Self-defense or not, this is highly illegal - "

"Cleared, of all charges, both of them - all of them,"

Lyn blinked in surprise. Did she just pardon them? All of them? Lyn was taken back the words of the princess, truly not expecting her to have pardoned them, even though they saved her life. However, it soon became apparent, that the princess had an ulterior motive for pardoning them all. As she went on to explain, she had been planning to seek council in Lochester, but things hadn't quite gone to plan. Seeing how well they had thought, she had conscripted all of the civilians into her service, noting how Lochester's restrictive laws against certain races could put them as a disadvantage to those gathered, as they would no longer know how to properly deal with them.

After explaining the situation further, the princess encouraged the group to introduce themselves, laughing how it would be an awkward journey if they didn't get to know each other properly.

"My name is Lyn Grier," Lyn said, introducing herself to the princess and Sir Emerick with a small courtesy, "I am an apprentice apothecary, studying under the tutelage of Master Gunther in Zlelmore. I will do my best to serve you in whatever ways I can." After finishing her introduction, Lyn moved towards the other civilians. Although not entirely happy at being conscripted against her will, she saw no point in arguing against it. They were in Yloria after all, the princess's home, her word was practically law. "If anyone need it, I have two healing potions available." Lyn announced to the gather group, pulling one vial out of her bag in reference. "They taste awful, but it should do the job, until we get get better treatment."
 

Schade

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

Not completely unexpected, the ragtag group managed to stand their ground fairly well. Though Genma was aware that fighting the law was probably not a good idea; even in Ylorian territory, where prying eyes more often than not decided to look the other way whenever shenanigans like this went down. No, somehow Genma had gotten himself mixed into this fight. A fight with all sorts of banned magical beings and users, it was more or less taking a long step down from his otherwise clean slate and get sam-dunked into the pavement of bad company. Though the Princess was still there, and a very capable fighter herself, one had to wonder: What exactly was going on here? He would have to ask questions later, as the fight was still very much ongoing.

Of course, as one would expect from a battle taking place in Ylorian territory, punches were not held back. Lochester guards had always been known for being unfair, biased and overal douchebags. Today was not an exception, as many stalls in the marketplace had been needlessly cut down. Granted, Genma had been the sole reason for most of that damage, why with his winds going astray from time to time, but at least there weren't any civillian casualties yet. yet. There were some injured civillians taking refuge in the smaller shacks standing near the edges of the marketplace, and it was quite obvious some were badly injured. The biased Lochester guards likely saw this fight as an oppurtunity to wipe out some of the lands "Filth" as they always called it. Grnted, with all the dark mages and vampires in Yloria, Genma was almost tempted to join them. Almost. Granted, unclean magic was a plague in need of cleansing, but this was not the way. Heeding his otherworldly call to aid the innocents, Genma soon found himself in a small hut. a trio of late teenagers were curled up under a table at the back of the hut, one of them had a badly injured foot. He also had a fuzzy tail and ears. Ugh, a werewolf. Well, lost lambs in need were lost lambs in need. "I will take a look at that!" Genma demanded, sounding almost as frightening as the soliders. The teenagers reluctantly agreed to let him take a look at the werewolfs leg. "Well that leg is not supposed to point out there. You! Hold him down!" he commanded to a girl with chetnut brown braids. She nodded shakily before whispering something to the injured boy, who sighed in return, bracing himself for impact. Granted, there was no need for that, as Genmas healing restored the body to where it originally was supposed to be. Sure, the process was often painful as a mofo, but that was hardly his problem.

Having fixed the boys leg, the trio could not get out of there fast enough, mumbeling words of both gratitude and horror as they fled the scene. With a self-rightous grin on his face, Genma returned to the fight. Oddly enough, most of it seemed to have cooled down, and the marketplace was littered with injured and dead Lochestrian soliders. "This calls for the help of me, Caller of the winds!" He said in a cheerful tone as he pointed his staff towards a badly mangled guard desperately trying to crawl his way out of there. "H.. Help.." the man whispered. It must be difficult for him to make sounds with that huge open gash in his throat. He must be, what.. barely out of his teens?Definitely a year or two younger than he was himself. Genma took a heroic leap and placed himself in front of the poor guard, pointing his staff down at him. "You, my good sir, are in luck!" he said in a confident tone before shifting completely, "I mean, kinda? not sure. It looks like you guys are in real trouble with the law right now. Y'know, assaulting a prinvess and all. Like, i can understand the vampire and werewolves, but did you have to make such a mess of it? Like, this has to have broken like, what, 6 different rules from all 4 kingdoms? Even you guys can't get away with..." his rambeling was interrupted by the guard coughing up a surprising amount of blood. "Just... Let me die" he whispered as he laid down to meet his maker. "Oh no, not on my watch you don't." Genma said as he resumed his confident poise.

He shook his staff above the dying guard a few times as it poured a soothing light from its crystal center. The light covered the man, and the soothing sound of cracking bones and gashes closing up could be heard. Was it not for the Mend Spells soothing effect, it would all be quite grotesque. "Aah, you rise again my good sir!" Genma said as he held his arms out in a very "I am holier than you" way, adding to his attitude. "You need not thank me, for I, Brother Genma Valerious Windcaller the Third am the avatar of peace, restoration, and unification of mankind!". The guard sat up to his knees, looking up at the somewhat quirky man who just rescued him. "Didn't I see you decapitate another guard here earlier? he said as he massaged his arm, now sticking out in the right angle. The sudden reminder made Genma flinch, and he turned awkwardly to face the other direction. "Ahem.. yes that was.. unfortunate.." The young guard looked at him puzzled before he spoke again. "Why'd you do it?". Genma dramatically turned his head back to the guard before speaking in an overly theatrical fashion that only a true crusader of the holy light could do: "Power!.

Leaving the guard to make a swift escape form the battlefield, Genma turned his attention to the princess. He wanted to make sure she was safe and okay before he would leave himself. Though he had done many good deeds today, it would only be bad news being associated with a gang of lowlives after such a massacre of the royal guard, even if they were led by the princess. The Princess was busy giving the guard commander quite an earful, before having one of her own retainers take him away, as well as a few of the other guards. This immediatly made him regret not handing over that guard he had jus healed mere moments ago. "Mark my words, girl," The commander growled before he was taken away, "you employ these disgusting creatures to fight for you, you're not just going to open Yloria up to be overrun by them, but endanger the entire realm. They aren't human, they don't think like us. We will not stand by and watch.". Genma nodded for himself as the commander spoke. Like, he wasn't wrong, though he was pretty wrong in his methods. He stood a few feets away from her as she ordered her retainer around, talking of how to clean the mess up. It would seem Yloria came out of this ordeal on the good end of things. All that remained now was to deal with the uncleans that had aided the fight.

"Both of them are users of black magic, we all witnessed it!", one of the princess' guards said in an angry tone. Genma nodded again. "Yes, yes indeed. Though they wander a dark path, theirs is not a path that cannot be changed!" he held his finger up in a lecturing way as he spoke. He didn't like the dark magick, but he was almost convinced that they could be saved. Somehow. Wether they wanted to or not. "Though the unclean showed great power on the battlefield today, we must not make hasty decisions regarding their fate", he continued. He was, however, abrutly interrupted by the princess. "Cleared, of all charges, both of them - all of them," the princess immediately interjected, stepping closer. Genma was caught off guard by this. "Huh??" he objected, but could not get another word in before the princess continued.

"you." She adjusted her sword to point at the hooded figure, "you." Next she pointed her sword at the dark-haired werewolf with the large scythe, the burnette green-cloaked potion wielder, and more importantly: Himself, "you, you, you." Her sword landed on the scruffy man wearing a leather jacket, the electric mage whom may have been drunk, and finally on the werewolf wielding a crossbow, "you, you, and you. Step forward, please.". Genma obliged, as did the others. He was practically holding his breath now. Or like, not actually; that would be foolish. "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..." Her gaze shifted to her own army. "Guards, you are dismissed. Go back to the capital and deliver the Lochesterian soldiers as I told you. After this nearly horrendous defeat, I think a drastic change of tactic is in order.". This earned her a few question marks from her guards and retainer. "You eight," Gwen continued, "are now legally conscripted to accompany and guard me to Lochester's Capital. 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.". Wait, wait wait wait no no no no no. Genma grew anxious. Was his path of radiance about to take a gloomier turn? Though he would beo n a personal mission for the Princess of all people, he would mingle with unclean. it was a win/lose situation, one he was not sure he could appreciate.

The princessthen turned to the ragtag group of misfits. "My word is law, you have no choice in the matter - that said, if you've ever wanted a chance to make a true difference in the world, it's fallen right into your lap. Prove to Yloria that you can be heroes, and the lives of everyone who has ever been judged for their race will be forever changed. Of course, I will guarantee a handsome reward as well..." she turned, gesturing toward the dockyard. "The royal ship is docked nearby. My personal guard, Sir Emerick, will captain it." She began walking, 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."

"No, no no no no no no", Genma said, shaking his head in a defeated manner. This wasn't good. He would most likely have to make his way back home at some point, but even if he did, the others at the monastery would scold him for laying off such an honorable mission. IT would seem Genma was not the only one unhappy with this sudden change of events either. Both the vampire and the dark magic user seemed reluctant to the task, and even more reluctant to introduce themselves properly. The third to speak up, the apothecary assistant or something; Lyn seemed to be her name, was more open about herself, and quickly introduced herself before running off to try and heal the injured.

Genma sighed, but figured the awkward introductions would have to happen. He took a deep breath before speaking in his overly theatrical fashion: "I am Brother Genma Valerious Windcaller the Third, and i hail from the Monastery of the Dawn Brigade, located in Zlelmore.." he then toned himself down. "and i am not happy about this situation." he ended his introduction on a sour note, deciding to follow Lyn's footsteps to look for, and heal more of the injured civillians.
 
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*Jean Grey*

Night Triumphant
Sylvia Edelstein
Seaside Village - Eastern District


Sylvia's scythe hummed with power as she cut down another soldier with it and fresh blood spilled out of his wound. While several minutes ago, the battle's might've looked bleak, now it seemed as if the damned Lochesterians were the ones being pushed into a corner after all. She shifted back into her human form, and felt said power beginning to seep from her Zielmore-forged weapon to her fingertips. She rubbed a finger up and down the dark iron pole a few times - a silent gesture of enough, and the flow of energy stopped. She was fine, definitely in one piece and not about to die anytime soon. An arm grabbed her from behind, and another held a knife to her throat.

"This ain't over, degenerate thief," her assailant whispered into her ear as he pressed the blade onto the skin of her neck, piercing the flesh. Before he could deepen the cut, however, Sylvia swiftly elbowed him on his face, spun around and thrust her scythe once more, knocking him to the ground. What did I steal again? His fucking manhood? she thought silently as she rolled her eyes at his taunt. She wasn't finished or satisfied yet, however. Raising her weapon, she hacked at him several times, the weapon almost singing with its dark essence as more blood was being drawn. She grinned sadistically.

"Long live the fucking Queen," she taunted before delivering the killing blow. She took a moment to survey the battlefield. It was soon apparent that the fight was almost over. The ground was littered with the bodies of Lochesterian soldiers, some dead, some barely alive and some even playing dead. Reinforcements had come and aided them in handling the Lochesterians. The tide had turned for sure. Sylvia touched the shallow, bleeding cut on her neck then licked her blood-coated fingers. Bleeding meant one was alive - that, she knew. She then turned around to see that the Princess was now rebuking the defeated captain, who was now bound, as well as giving orders to some of her guards to throw the Lochesterians in prison. Meanwhile, some of the Ylorian reinforcements were now making a move on the young purple-haired dark magic user, and the hooded, cloaked vampire - something that did not escape the princess' notice.

"What are you doing? I gave you your orders," the princess snapped.

"Both of them are users of black magic, we all witnessed it!" one of her guards argued. "Self-defense or not, this is highly illegal - "

"Cleared, of all charges, both of them - all of them. How dare you attempt to arrest them - honestly, sometimes I wonder..." Sylvia raised a brow, surprised. Pardoning everyone on the spot? Now that didn't happen everyday for no reason. There had to be some kind of catch. She knew that things never came easy, that everything had its price. She was about to know what sort of price that was in the next few moments. The princess pointed at each and every one of them who had joined the battle, and told them to step forward.

"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. Go back to the capital and deliver the Lochesterian soldiers as I told you. After this nearly horrendous defeat, I think a drastic change of tactic is in order." The princess then proceeded to do something unexpected, which was to bind all eight of them to accompany and guard her on her way to Lochester's capital.

"My word is law, you have no choice in the matter - that said, if you've ever wanted a chance to make a true difference in the world, it's fallen right into your lap. Prove to Yloria that you can be heroes, and the lives of everyone who has ever been judged for their race will be forever changed. Of course, I will guarantee a handsome reward as well..."

At this, Sylvia cursed. Back to Lochester? She couldn't think of a worse place to be. She lived the first (and worst) seventeen years of her life in Lochester, and had a stint in the dungeons on top of that. Not to mention, all those laws and rules...there was a reason she settled in Khusha after all. And the thought of being someone's personal guard, taking orders and being at her beck and call...and after her ordeals with Alberich and Graeme, Sylvia was done being anyone's servant or slave. She didn't know what the princess really was like, but considering she was a princess and was probably too sheltered and too naive for her own good. Then again, she did stand up for them when her guards were about to arrest them. Of course, she knew that the princess had the power to have her arrested on the spot if she refused...but Sylvia knew being imprisoned, and frankly, she doubted that Ylorian dungeons were much worse than Lochesterian ones.

The vampire was quick to voice out his reservations, while the dark magic user bluntly countered him by asking if he preferred to head to the dungeons. The apothecary who had joined the fray was more open-minded, and friendly - she introduced herself and offered some of her healing draughts. A light-haired man dressed in equally light robes introduced himself as a Zielmorian monk...and also voiced his displeasure about the situation as well. It seemed as if she wasn't the only one having issues with the legally binding action, and frankly, the princess could've asked each of them if they wanted to, rather than just order them to follow her command right on the spot. They were on Ylorian soil, sure, but Sylvia couldn't help but feel as if it was a rather manipulative move to use that card after thanking them, and obligate them all just like that. Princess or not, Sylvia wasn't about to let herself get pushed around, and she wasn't about to mince her words when standing her ground.

"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 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," Sylvia growled.

"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."
 
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