Leaderboard

"Yes." L'Arachel said gravely. "I mean no ill when I say your party is not the most equipped to battle such a fierce foe. Of course, many would have said that about the group I once traveled with, yet we were able to save our land. What I mean to say is that one thing I have learned is that even those not of such grand and blessed blood as us can still make a difference." "Yes, I have seen that," Catriona replied. After all, Alois and Edrick were two of the fiercest fighters in the group, and neither were born from nobility, though Edrick was born from a hero. "I am gladdened to hear you were able to save your land. I can only hope our efforts will be enough as well." -- As the lord made her rounds, she could not help but notice that the air seemed so much more peaceful than it had mere hours ago. She could hear the faint cry of insects and early morning birds, and with such a chorus, it was hard to imagine that they had just finished a battle against a horde of terrifying undead. And yet that was how things were. Even her intuition, which had never steered her wrong, was calm. And yet, she couldn't not patrol. It was a habit long since ingrained since her time on the border, to make sure everything was safe, that there were no enemies about. Walking like this, with a member of the Garou alongside her, was familiar. And now, more so than ever, she needed a taste of the familiar. “... Thank you your highness. For the compliment,” Link finally said, just as they were nearing the south side of the building. Startled at his continuation of a topic she had thought finished, the woman turned just in time to catch him looking down at his hands, clenching and then unclenching several times experimentally. “It feels strange to be like this again. Strong again.” The man clenched his hands one final time and brought them down to his sides, looking around a few times, as if making sure nobody was around, before turning back to Catriona. “Your highness. Cat," the use of that nickname caused the lord to blink. She had never known quite how to react when others called her by that. The first to do so had been an overly familiar soldier with a lack of respect for the formalities--no, the first had been her sister, Penelope. Who now didn't even address her by name if she could help it. She was shaken from her thoughts by his next words. "I know there’s a lot of real weird stuff going on right now, stuff I can’t even begin to comprehend. Stuff I saw with my own eyes and I still can’t believe. Are...you alright?” "Am I?" she asked. "I...of course I am," she finally said. "I apologize if I gave off a different impression." She had almost forgotten herself, with everything that had happened. So much...and all of it unnatural. Wrong. Her stomach churned at the lie, but she could not afford to be truthful here. Not with her father's words ringing in her head. "You may rage, and you may cry, but you cannot let that show outside. Emotions are signs of weakness, and everybody around you will be looking to take advantage of that. Leaders cannot share their heart's feelings with those they lead, either, not when their followers are expecting perfection. They were chosen for that role, and it can just as easily be taken away from them. And as royalty, that applies even more to you. Every single one of your vassals has the chance to be a leader, might already be a leader. If you show them your emotions, then that reminds them that you are human, of flesh and blood like they. They will see you as an equal, and wonder why the crown sits on your head instead of theirs. Once they start thinking like that, you must act fast. For that is the beginning of the end." It was not like she believed that Link was out to get the crown, far from it. She knew he was not the same breed of man as the vipers at Court, who played power games almost constantly, every day a desperate battle for more land, more riches, more of everything. Still, if she were to open her mouth right now and tell him the truth, what then? What could he do, to lessen her burden? Tell her everything would be fine? That would be a lie. The only thing he could do was the same thing he had been doing--accompany her on the journey to stop the goddess. "Thank you for your concern," she finished, before finally hearing what sounded like motion from behind a gravestone. "What is that?" -- The abbot listened to Tsetseg's ramblings with a bemused smile. "Well, that is an interesting theory," he smiled gently before refuting her. "Except there is only one goddess, has only ever been. Still, I can see how you would come to believe that. Her behavior has changed so much since then..." he gazed off into the distance wistfully before returning his attention to the group. After Penelope put in her point, the abbot shook his head sorrowfully. "Human beings ever strive to understand the goddess, but one thing I have learned is that, as time goes by, our understanding changes as well. I have not read these new texts, so I cannot fully determine the truth of their teachings, but..." he smiled. "I myself am going off of what I have been taught as well. After curing Ciela's paralyzed legs, the abbot performed a short bow. "With the Goddess, all things are possible," he murmured. "Rejoice, child, for you have earned a second chance." Edrick's words caused the abbot to turn fully and face him directly. "The Divine Will, what a fitting name," he said, pausing. "Perhaps that is so. The priests have started to call her the Twofold Goddess..." he turned silent, contemplating. "Yet I feel that might not be quite right," he muttered to himself, before shaking his head. "This issue has been the subject of much debate recently. Unfortunately, I do not have the answers you seek." He looked sad. "I am but an old man who has lingered here for far too long. As for this place...it was destroyed after She had already changed." He turned to look at Penelope. "You wish to know my history? I cannot tell it in full, but with the last of my power, I can show you." He glanced at Unil and the others, who had stood to the side until now, before closing his eyes and humming a prayer. Soon afterward, everybody there could see the surroundings change, as if they had suddenly been transported, a multitude of scenes passing in front of their eyes. -------- BGM "Alltrades Abbey was once a place known far and wide across Mysia for its ability to give people the chance they needed to change their paths." A large stone abbey stood, surrounded by a bustling village. The buildings were made in a simpler style, but the people's faces looked happy and content. "Yet that was not its only purpose. It also served to help any and all who came for succor." "Abbot Jack," a monk approached a man who looked to be a younger version of the specter they were speaking to. "About the boy you found...I mean no disrespect, but...are you sure about keeping him? He is a..." his expression twisted, "street urchin, after all." "Yes," the abbot replied, his voice gentle but firm. "I am only sorry that I cannot do so for all such children we find. Remember, in the eyes of the goddess Inera, every person is equal in status." "Very well," the other bowed. "I can only hope to be as open-minded as you." -- The scene shifted, showing the abbot talking to a brunette who looked around four or five years old in a room with several simple wooden beds. "You need not worry anymore, my child. While we do not live lavish lives, we have food enough for us all." "Liar!" the boy spat. "'M not stoopid! Ya jus' wanna sell me off! Well yer the stoopid one. 'M not worth anyfink." "No," the man shook his head. "You are worth more than gold, my child. For you are a human being, and beloved of Inera." He handed over a white robe. "Wear this. You will work as an acolyte while you are here. For now, though, rest," he left the room, closing the door gently behind him, just in time to hear a thud as a book slammed against the hard wood. -- The scene shifted once more to show the boy, a little older and dressed in the robes shown earlier, lighting candles. Beside him, another boy, this one blond and nervous, was helping. "S-so I saw that you're all really close? Like family. It seems nice...m-maybe one day, I'll be a part of it too." "Ain't ya from the Aquilia family?" the brunette interrupted rudely, wrinkling his nose. "They're the richest blokes in town, righ'?" "Yeah, but," the other boy bit his lip. "T-they don't really care for me...because I'm useless," he stared at the ground. "Oh..." the first boy paused. "Well, okay, I guess we can be friends then. M'name's Unil. The abbot gave that name to me, said it meant 'one.' Cuz I'm one of a kind!" his face softened slightly as he spoke. "What's yers?" "M-mine? It's...Dua." "Okay, Dua, well you're part of the family now. Let's work at this together." "Yeah, let's!" -- A raven-haired teenage boy dressed in furs and covered in scars shouted at the abbot in what looked like the village square. "I am with much anger right now! See my angry face, right here! You refuse to fight. You, the most powerful man in village." The abbot shook his head, "Though I have been blessed by the goddess with some minor knowledge of light magic, I am not interested in fighting." He smiled at the boy. "You are more than welcome to talk things out instead if you wish." "I'll fight him, Father," the brunette boy, now a teenager himself, stepped forward. "I know a little o' the lance, myself." "There will be no fighting," the abbot's voice boomed out, causing both boys to stumble back, one in surprise, the other in embarrassment. "You said your name was Trim, correct?" he looked at the boy, smiling. "Let us talk this over inside. I see you are hungry." "Yes, I am with much hunger," the boy said. "I have traveled far, across the mountains, seeking to fight strong men, but you do not fight!" he roared. The abbot spread his hands wide beseechingly. "This is a place of peace, not of war. If you come here, come as a person, not a fighter." -- The abbot kneeled over a silver-haired girl in what looked to be an infirmary, holding a healing staff to her heavily scarred face. He shook his head, expression sad, as the glow faded from the staff. "I am sorry, my child. I can do no more for you. Time is the only thing that can take away your scars now." The girl wept. "No, I can't...I can't do this. Everybody looks at me funny, you know? Ever since I got attacked by that bear while out hunting...they used to call me the prettiest girl in the village, but now I'm nothing but a freak." "You are not a freak," the abbot replied. "People may not see it, but you are the same person you always were. A beloved child of the goddess. Your flesh is but a shell for your mind and soul. Remember that, Quatro." "Yeah, listen to Father!" Unil crashed through the door excitedly. "He knows a lot, a lot more than those stupid faces out in the village." He smiled bashfully at the reprimanding look the abbot shot him. "Th-thank you," the girl sobbed. "Really, thank you. I felt like it was the end for me, but at least...one person, maybe two," she looked up and smiled through her tears, "still sees me as me." -- The scene shifted to the main worship hall of the abbey, where a redheaded girl dressed in half-fitted robes was busy stuffing chalices and coins into a large sack. She sneered at the abbot, who had just entered through the doors. "Yeah, ah know, 'm an ungrateful slut. That's wha' they all call me," she spat on the floor. "But least 'm true to myself, not a 'ypocrite like you, lordin' yerself 'bove us, an' pretendin' t'be good. Hah!" she snorted. "Good doesn't exist, there's jus' gold an' more gold. Betcha regret savin' me now, huh? Makin' me work 'ere as penance 'stead," she sneered. "Keepin' me from the choppin' block, cuz I'm jus' tryna survive, ye say. What an idjit!" She glared at him. "Say something, ya brainless twit!" The abbot smiled sadly at her. "I am sorry you have had to place such importance on material wealth, my child." He spread his hands wide. "If you need these humble objects that much, then may you leave with them, with my hope for a better future." The girl stopped, slack-jawed, before scoffing. "Huh, guess yer not a 'ypocrite after all, yer jus' stoopid!" Still, she seemed shaken, and left the place soon after. Then, as the lighting changed from night to morning, the girl returned, slamming the door open and dumping the bag of stolen goods on the floor, to the shock of everybody there. "What're you doing back here?!" Unil scowled at the girl. "I thought you ran away!" "Well ah can't believe it, but ya've infected me wi' yer stoopidity," the girl glared at the abbot. "'Ere, ye can 'ave these, but ye gotta take 'sponsibility now, fer makin' me stoopid too." The abbot smiled proudly at her. "You asked me earlier if I regretted keeping you from execution when you were caught pickpocketing. My answer is, no. I will never regret that, Penvo." -- "However, with the darkening of the goddess, the darkness in people's hearts began to take over." It was night, but the whole village was lit up like the day. Lit up by the flames the outsiders had brought with them. Armored men ran through the streets with torches and swords, killing any they could lay their hands on. "Everything must burn!" roared the commander. "These are all followers of the dark goddess. We have to purge them, or they'll come back as Her undead soldiers!" "Yes, sir!" another nodded and grabbed at the hair of a fleeing woman. Bringing her closer, he sneered. "Witch, don't expect any mercy from me." With a crack, he let her go, her neck twisted at an odd angle. A small, piping sound made him lean down. "Hah! She was hiding a whelp?" he snickered, picking a baby up and gagging. "Ugh, it smells. What'd it do, shit its pants?" Bringing his pike up, he stabbed the baby through the eye, and then through the other eye. "Hah, don't have to worry about that now...hurk!" he gasped, a lance protruding through his chest. "Scum!" a brunette man on a horse cried, eyes blazing with anger. "Why are you attacking our village like this?" "He's not breathing anymore, Unil," a blond priest nearby supplied helpfully. "We just got back, but with much lateness, maybe too much," a barbarian said worriedly. "That's because we had to bring along all of Penvo's junk," a pretty silver-haired archer with the slightest shadow of scarring on her face shook her head. "'Ey, money makes the world go round," a redheaded thief scoffed, before stabbing a man who had been sneaking up behind her without blinking. "Still, looks like we need ta clean house." Unil sighed. "It seems that way." He thought for a moment. "We should try and gather everybody in the abbey. Let's go!" -- "Everybody fought valiantly, but in the end, sheer numbers won out." "Seems like...everybody came out to play today," the barbarian grunted as he parried another blow in front of the abbey. "I have much doubt on whether we can go on like this or not." "You and me both, Trim," the archer sighed as she let loose an arrow. "I only have so many arrows before I run out." "And I only 'ave so many asses to hand out," the thief sneered. "This is why daggers are better than bows, Quatro." "Not this again," the priest groaned as he healed a wound on Unil. "What, do ye think I'm wrong, Dua?" "I think this is the worst possible time to discuss this subject." "No, this is the only time. Cuz I dunno about you, but I don't think we're gonna live to see the sun." "We might not, but Father has to," Unil said, expression determined. "He's the one they're after. Did you hear what they've been calling him? Dark spawn, a servant of darkness. As if he could be anything but good." "They just don't know him like we do," Dua said. "Uhh...guys? My axe just broke," the barbarian stared down at the broken weapon in dismay. "And I'm down to my last arrow." "Heh," the thief quirked a grin. "My weapons are chipped to pieces. Guess your bow outlasted my daggers this time." "Unil, I...have only one last healing spell," the priest stared at the cavalier seriously. "Then this will be our last stand," the man raised his broken lance into the air. "Come, let us fight!" "Heh...d'ya think..." Trim panted as they stood in a ring around the door. "The bards will be with much song about us?" "Doubt it," Penvo scoffed. "We'll probably star as the villains instead." "The world may malign us, but at least...we went down fight--." Unil's words were cut off with a gasp as a sword pierced through his chest. "Unil, no!" "Don't worry about me...protect the others!" "Goddess preserve us!" "Aaargh!" "Gotta...keep...ugh." "No!" "I'm sorry...Father..." -- "You are guilty of the crimes of sowing dissolution among the people and spreading lies in support of the evil goddess, Inera. For this, you are charged with death by flogging and crucifixion. Any last words?" The abbot sighed. "I can only pray that your soul finds peace from all of this. And..." he lifted his head to stare at the sky, tears running down his face. "I am sorry...my children. I have failed you. May you find...happiness." The whip fell, and any further words were cut off by his screams. -------- As the surroundings finally returned to normal, the abbot said nothing, head hanging in sorrow. Finally, he raised it, staring straight at Unil. At Dua. At Trim. At Quatro. At Penvo. People who had died so long ago, their lives taken by force. "You wonder why you are still here, why your spirits were summoned first. The blame lies with me. It is my memory that keeps you here. And it is my guilt that keeps me here." His eyes shone with tears. "I am sorry for everything you experienced. Were it not for me..." "No. Don't blame yourself, Father." Unil stepped forward. "All of us...if we could turn back time, we wouldn't change a thing." He looked at the others, who nodded, stepping closer to the abbot. "Father...I've wanted to say this for such a long time. I'm sorry that we failed you." "No, my child," the abbot shook his head. "It is I who failed you." "Never," the cavalier shook his own head. "Still, I am glad to hear that you do not blame me. For so long, I worried..." the tears ran down his face freely. "But now, with this...I can move on." He looked at the Awakened. "Will you come with me?" "Always, Father." "With all my heart." "Yah, you still owe me that fight." "Without a doubt." "'Course." "Then," the abbot looked back at the group. "Thank you, for protecting this place. With you all here, my worries have eased." He smiled, and started to chant. "May you succeed on your road. May the wind be always at your back. May the sun shine warm upon your face; And the rain fall soft upon your fields. And though we may not meet again, May the Goddess hold you in the palm of Her hand." And then, he, as well as the other Awakened, started to glow a soft white, their bodies growing translucent, until finally, the light faded, and with it, the last remnants of those from a bygone era. The group would notice then that the atmosphere had changed. No longer did the place feel watchful, or dangerous, or even mysterious. No, instead, they merely stood in the shadow of a crumbled stone building. There was nothing out-of-place about this area anymore. It was just an old ruin. OOC

Oh my fucking god I finally got my Draug to +10. I only managed to pull 3 of him since February of last year, it took so long for such a seemingly common unit. Now I just need to pull a Valentine's Ike, and then wait for the SI changes to come so I can feed him to Draug for DC and Special Fighter.

tfw mido's sister posts soley to dunk on him

tbh I doubted you said that because I was pretty sure the cosplayer said something different; he was cosplaying as Jellal Fernandes from Fairy Tail. Also, you didn't have to take photos of people's backs, you dumbo. They literally came to show off their outfits so you can just ask to take a picture of/with them and they'd be delighted. Cells at Work isn't that popular. Volunteer to be a photographer next year; you get in for free. finally, answer mitcher gdi