Jump to content

Fire Emblem: Curse of the Goddess [IC / Conditional Acceptance / PG-16]

Recommended Posts

Posted (edited)

Penelope and Gunther

With everything going on outside, the kitchen itself seemed too still. Like an eye in the center of a great storm. No noise stirred the mansion but the soft sounds of Hanikap’s murmurs from the next room over. “Never shoulda got caught up in all this. What would me dear Ma say now if’n she could see this?”

And then, above their heads, nearer to the parlor exit, Penelope and Gunther both would hear the startled coos of pigeons. A familiar voice accompanied the cries with a shout, “Who has this many birds?!”



One could forgive the fighter for letting his guard down. After all, birds—doves and pigeons both—filled the dovecote. It would be difficult to make out much of anything in the flurry of wings and round bodies. From the sheer number of birds, the flapping of their wings alone generated enough noise to surprise most people. But combined with the screeching, it produced an overwhelming cacophony. It would not be surprising if the noise reached the people outside or downstairs, even.

Amidst the hail of feathers, a shadow dropped on the boy, sending him crashing to the floor. “Sorry, but I don’t much like being chased,” a low voice whispered in his ear. “Don’t worry, I’ll have you chasing after sheep soon enough.”


Edrick, Citron, and Raki

Edrick, Citron, Peaches, and Raki could also hear the ruckus in the dovecote above, though it would be harder to make out over the sounds of the outside and Peaches’s pained roaring.

The arrow had buried itself grievously close to the wyvern’s heart. Had Gaston a little more time and a little less urgency, Peaches would be dead. As it was, the wound lay a little closer to the center of the wyvern’s chest, and so she could still count herself among the living.

The Isaurians at the scene would know that the weak points of a wyvern were their wings and soft underbelly. Wyvern riders dreaded archers for this reason. A well-aimed shot could take a wyvern out of commission forever.

The belly scales had furrowed up like a small hill around the wound. To those unfamiliar with battle, it would have seemed innocuous. A mere stick poking into the chest. Barely any blood. But below the surface, bits of wood splintered off, creating slivers resting amidst dark blood and pale flesh. The arrowhead itself remained intact, but it had ruptured a blood vessel.

To remove the arrow now, without taking proper steps, would be a fatal mistake.



It did not take long for Pylauses to realize he was being chased. The man turned back once and cursed. “Damn you, fellow!” he shouted. “Can you not at least have the common sensitude to know when to capitulate?!” He lashed the reins against the horse’s neck. It whinnied but increased its pace to a gallop.

The ride carried Link through the streets of Phar. In the dusky twilight, the village houses shone in only two colors—sunset gold or a brown so dark it seemed black. The sun glared directly into the mercenary's eyes as it set behind the village wall. Few villagers ventured outside at this hour. The scant few that remained disappeared at the sound of hoofbeats, till the streets were empty of all but dust.

This road would be familiar to the mercenary. Hours earlier, he had walked this same path, following Alois’s mother Mene to her house. But rather than a pleasant stroll, he now raced to catch up to Pylauses Gaston.



At the front of the mansion, a single horse and rider had been resting near the food trough Gaston had laid out for his horses. Miraculously, the rider had remained asleep through the earlier commotion. But considering the extent of her injuries, perhaps it was not so surprising, 

Were she to wake now, she would feel much more rested than before. And much more herself.


Tsetseg and Cora

Acantha snorted, “Of course, ya get on her horse.” However, despite her words, the girl didn’t look like she minded. “Come on! Let’s go! You said Pylauses’s house, right? In that case, we need to head this way.”

The redhead took the group down the main road leading toward the back gate. They hadn’t gone far when Phai caught up to them on a dark blue roan. “I’m here, I’m here!” she cried out with relief. “I’m sorry, it took a while, and I uh, well, ye don’t need to hear the details, I guess.” The girl wilted under her cousin’s annoyed glare.

“Humph, well, as long as you’re here, it don’t matter, I guess,” Acantha sighed, voice slipping into the same drawl as the other villagers. As if she had tacitly accepted Tsetseg as trustworthy. "Let's go."

However, the redhead stopped the group before they could even walk fifty paces. “Hold, there’s something ahead.”

Now that she had pointed it out, the rest of the group would hear hoofbeats in the distance. But they were not the slow clops associated with a walk, nor the clip-clop of a trot, nor even the three-beat sounds in a canter. No. Instead, they could hear the four-beat patter of a gallop. Somebody was racing recklessly through the village on horseback. Horses weren’t supposed to go much faster than a walk in the village proper.

“Do ya think that could be the militia?” Phai asked. “But… ain’t that a mite dangerous?”

Edited by Sethera

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites

aonB0Ia.png   lcmI449.png

"She couldn't have gone far. If we capture her we could find out more about who Gaston is working for."

"Penelope are you sure..." Gunther began.

"No time to question she could already be running. There were horses yes? If she gets away on one of them it would be difficult to catch up. Let us go out through the entrance and...."

“Who has this many birds?!”

"Correction." Penelope said, already moving. "You go out through the entrance, see if there's any sign of where she might have gone. I will go see what Alois is doing up there. Perhaps he saw where the woman went."

"I don't want to leave you alone when all this is going on..."

"Do not fret, if I'm correct most of the danger will be already outside, and anyway Alois will be there I will be fine."

Despite Penelope's insistence on speed Gunther wavered. However the more thought he gave it the more he knew he should do as she asked. He had trusted Alois in the past so the only thing that he could do was trust him again. The princess would be safe with Alois.

Nodding, Gunther said, "just be careful." and headed for the entrance. There seemed to be no one there, barring Ciela who he for a moment considered checking on, then he gave her a passing "If you're able we need to get moving, there are dangerous people around." Not knowing what to do next he remembered Penelope's mention of horses and decided to go there first.

Meanwhile Penelope was moving as quick as she could for the upstairs. She didn't exactly know the layout of the building but it didn't seem too complicated. After reaching the second floor and going down a hall she found herself in an office of sorts. Normally she would examine the area but a pressing feeling told her to keep on going. She wasn't sure what it was but she decided to follow this instinct and made her way down the next hall, towards where she could vaguely make out the sounds of flapping wings.


"Yeah, yeah! Let's go catch that bad guy!"

She was nervous. This all was so much more than she could have expected from her small little village. But the girl's confidence and cheer somehow managed to relax Cora. She wasn't a princess or a knight or anything all that special really. She wasn't even as tough as Alois.

But this was something she could do. She was all set up to head out, and began to move forward at a pace that may be a little more than she was supposed to, when Acantha called for a stop. "Huh, what do...oh." She heard it then, the heavy hoofbeats. Someone was running at full speed through the town.

"I don't reckon so, the militia wouldn't be settin out that fast, something's not right." She glanced over at Tsetseg. "I'm gonna go check it out, either somebody's up to no good or somebody thinks they need to be headin somewhere in a hurry, either way at least one of us outta see what's goin on."

To Tsetseg she said "Hang on, I'm fixing to head em off so I might have ta go a bit faster else they'll just pass me by."

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites
Posted (edited)

Riding bareback was nothing like riding with a saddle. It was a skill most often found amongst the commonfolk; Link had never met a noble who could do it. It required great balance, a lot of experience, and a total disregard for personal safety. He could still hear Ilia’s father yelling directions at him, even so many years later. “Keep yer knees tight. Lean forward, if yer gonna gallop. Not that much! Ye’ll mess with her balance pressing on her neck like that. …That’s the trick! Look at ya go! Yer a natural!”

It proved to be a muscle memory. Shifting his hips until the horse seemed comfortable, seated more forward than was traditional if he had been using a saddle. The mechanics behind it were hard-wired into his brain. The same could not be said for the actual muscles—muscles rarely used in day-to-day life—that the act required.  

Link ignored the pain and pressed his heels into the horse’s haunches. It barely seemed to take notice. It was so large and layered with muscle that the soldier was certain that his own weight was negligible to it.

The village raced around him in a blur of colors. The wind buffeted his face and ripped his hat off his head, blowing his blonde hair back. Gaston whipped around to shout something that Link couldn’t make out. He glared at the man but said nothing in return. His burning anger had been cooled into smoldering embers of hate; he was no longer consumed by his outrage, and instead let it serve as fuel to push the engine that was his body past the point of breaking. 

Link’s grip tightened on the hilt of his sword in preparation. He was gaining. Both horses were incredibly fast, but his horse was faster, and carried a lot less weight. 

Two bitter enemies united under one banner for the first time in many years that day. Death normally took pleasure in tormenting the former soldier—reminding him of their frequent collaborations—but in that moment, it hugged him like an old friend. It could be seen in his eyes when he focused on Gaston, and in his face, dark and stormy as a slate cut from a storm cloud, and even in the wind that blew his hair, framing his face like the wild mane of the great cats Gaston hunted.

Death nipped at the heels of Pylauses Gaston, its scythe of choice a soldier too gentle for war.

No one could outrun it forever.

Edited by Cheshire Toon

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites


Alois was still particularly annoyed at the cacophony of birds that was around. He was never really a bird kind of person. He was never really any kind of animal person for that matter, and his hometown was hardly helping that. Add to that, the deluge of birds had taken him by surprise so he had briefly stopped paying attention to what could be wrong here. After all, he followed pretty quickly after the maid so she would have to be here, and he didn't realize that the door to this room was still closed fast enough to come to the conclusion that she still had to be here, even if he couldn't see her. As a result he was taken by surprise, again, by the sudden amount of force that was being thrown at him and knocking him to the ground. Hearing the maid above him, Alois couldn't help but let out a, "what?" He had heard of counting sheep but never chasing after them, so he wasn't sure if she was going to but him to sleep, kill him or turn him into some kind of ranch hand. Letting out a sigh, the boy had realized that the position he was in currently and definitely sucked. So he would have to remedy that. 

After a moment's pause the boy asked, "hey. Are you a bird kind of person?" Before the woman could answer Alois threw his head back, smashing his into hers and allowing him to push himself back up onto his hands and legs. Turning a bit the boy kicked at where he presumed her legs were only to find that she was nowhere to be found. Worried that she might've gone for another diving strike on him, the boy quickly scrambled to a standing upright position and tried to look out for the maid. As his eyes scanned the room, still filled with birds, his searching was cut short as the arm of the woman wrapped around his neck in a chokehold. 

Taken off guard yet again, Alois's body flailed a bit in panic at the sudden loss of air. As he was able to recognize what was happening, though, his frantic movements turned into more deliberate ones. Having the air choked out of him the boy couldn't make a witty retort, though his mind seemed to think it was a priority to think of one even in this situation, and so instead he just grabbed at her arm. Yanking with all of his strength, he wrenched the woman's arm off of his neck and tossed it down, trying to turn to face the woman while doing so. 

"Huh... You're stronger than you look."

"Yeah and you're a whole lot less hospitable then you look." 


Tsetseg held onto Cora as the two of them galloped down town. As Cora explained what was likely going on, Tsetseg kept her own eyes and ears more aware, being still on the lookout for any sort of crime that might be being committed. As they continued to race down the streets, something came into view of Tsetseg's eyes. She wasn't able to make out who it was, since they were currently a bit too far away, but they could see someone on horseback. Pointing further down the road the girl exclaimed, "there! Bad guy that way! Way way down that way!" While Cora herself wasn't able to see the figure yet, it would be clear that based on the direction and distance they were traveling that they, and the figure, were heading towards the back gate of the town. 

After saying that, Tsetseg's ears perked up as she heard something else. A set of hoofbeats. Of course, they were on a horse already so hearing that was natural, and they were chasing after another horse so hearing a second set wasn't out of the ordinary either. But she was positive there was third, and that they were coming from a different direction entirely. "Oh! Oh! Oh! Other horse that way!" The girl pointed towards the intersection that she was sure they were about to meet up with this third horse, so as to warn Cora to not crash into it. 

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites
Posted (edited)

Citron hadn’t even noticed Raki approaching until Peaches began to move again; stirring beneath her arm, powerful muscles straining as the sickening ichor leaked from her chest. “No,” Citron’s voice hitched in on itself, sounding more forceful than she meant as she strained to slow the Wyvern’s stirring, pressing her entire weight against the Wyvern as she struggled to keep her from moving. “You need to- You need to stay here. You need to calm down. He’s… He’s a friend,” she murmured, a quick glance telling her everything she needed to know about who had approached - and why Peaches had begun to stir. “His Wyvern isn’t here, and he’s-- He’s just here to…” she trailed off, eyes finally meeting the knife as he spoke, swallowing nervously. “To help,” she murmured, glancing back down at the injured Wyvern.

A few moments passed.

He spoke again. This time explaining what it was the knife was for-- What they needed to do, even if Citron didn’t… Know how. “I… But- But removing it would put any organs near the arrow in danger, wouldn’t it? It’s like a puncture, or stabbing wound, I think,” she murmured, bringing a hand up to her mouth, trying to wipe away the slurry of snot and tears. “Removing it would cause her to loose too much blood, and-- And! We could damage something internal- I think that's what Grandpa used to say at least, and-- and-- if there is a safe to remove it, I… I don’t know how,” she’d explain, voice weakening to little more than a whimper as she knelt down and held the Wyvern as tightly as she could. “There’s-- Penelope is smart, and Gunther seems to know a lot about animals, do- Do you think they know? Or--” she stammered, frantically. “You’re a Wyvern-Rider too, right? Do- Have you ever had to do this? Do you know how to do this? How-- How we can save Peaches?” she’d ask, voice pleading as she talked herself in circles, voice rising in pitch--

Only to be silenced, Edrick spoke up; asking a question which seemed to catch her off guard entirely. “I… That’s…!” Citron stared directly at him; his wounded state, and shook her head. “Absolutely not! Peaches is already hurt, and if Raki’s Wyvern shows, I don’t think I’ll be able to keep her from straining herself too much…! And you’re hurt too! Everyone's too hurt,” she paused, voice turning more and more frantic, and forceful than she had meant for it to turn. “I… Sorry,” she did her best to catch herself, taking in a deep breath, as she realized she had been  yelling. “I just… I don’t… think you’ll be in any condition to stop him anyways if you did catch him, with how easily he threw Peaches…” she trailed off, voice sounding somewhat defeated, as she returned her attention to the Wyvern in front of her. 

Edited by Tiamat's Circus

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites
Posted (edited)

The Wyvern was listening to her rider, so far. That was good, such trust was absolutely necessary if an operation such as the one required was to be tried. In the absence of such trust, the best substitute would have been several strong handlers holding down the restraints on the Wyrm. In other words, Raki would have had no possible substitute to speak of at hand.

Citron was in tears, but she still had the presence of mind to stop her Wyvern, and she appeared to be somewhat knowledgeable herself about the situation. That was also good, it would have made understanding the situation and communication much smoother.

Raki looked up to the Wyvern, hoping that all that goodness could somehow solve the Wyvern in the room- how to go about the operation in practice.

As he caught the blonde-haired boy at the edge of his vision, he made to answer Citron, only to swiftly turn his head completely towards the boy. Not so much for what he said, though he found himself agreeing with Citron's answer, but for the physical conditions of the guy. He had not realized when he saw him from the window, but covered in blood and dirt, barely standing and clutching on his lance, it was as if a corpse had just stood up and spoken. A shirtless corpse at that.

"I have to agree." He added after Citron had finished speaking "Garinphasia... My Wyvern companion is out of town, if that wasn't the case I would probably be already riding her, to be honest. Besides, you look barely to be in condition to stand, let alone ride. I don't think we can do much else than wait for your friend." He looked at the Wyvern and Edrick's chest in succession. "And not bleed out in the meantime, hopefully."

Truly, this guy must be loved by the Goddess to still be standing in these conditions.

Raki Looked up at the windows. There had been quite a mess of sounds coming from the upper floors of the house, and his mind went to the two he left inside the house. Had it been a mistake to drop them? Should he go back in? But if he did that, he would be leaving the Wyvern rider alone... Then again, he probably wouldn't have been able to proceed even if he remained there...

He closed his eyes, trying to focus. He was doing it again, just like with Hanikap. Too many questions and too little accomplished. Raki put his thoughts in order before speaking again.

One thing at a time. You're the only one not losing some kind of liquid here, Raki. You can't just fumble around and just hope that Mom comes to sort you out.

He looked at the three people around him, and pointed towards the source of the noise. "I don't know what it is, but two of your friends are still inside." He looked at the blonde guy "Personally I would suggest you sit somewhere, but if you're still raring to go, you could go check what's happening. I think I'd go with you in that case, though." Raki wasn't about to try to order around someone who was apparently capable of standing through sheer refusal to stand down, but he wasn't keen on letting that person go off to bleed on their own either.

"But first." He turned towards Citron and Peaches. "You are correct about the arrow, but there is a way to take it out since it doesn't look like it damaged anything too important for now. The best thing for her would be to just wait where she is until we can operate."

He fidgeted with the knife in his hand, trying to avoid crossing the gaze of the Wyvern. He could feel her smelling Garinphasia on him, only kept at bay by her rider. He stopped his nervous movements. The last thing he needed was to make her more nervous by playing with a blade so close to her.

"We need some clean tools, and... I mean, this kind of wound is not something I've done myself, but I've seen it done many times. I think I could repeat it, but..." He made to gesture toward the Wyvern, then he remembered he had a knife in his hand. He looked down. "Ahem...  While having someone with experience in treating wounds could be useful, what I mean to say is that the operation would involve using a knife to work on the wound, and I don't think she's going to let me. Or anyone else that has already done something like this, to whom I could talk." He gazed up, hoping against all odds as he looked towards Citron "Unless you've had to remove arrowheads before?"

Edited by Arkars

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites


Well... shit. Double shit, in fact. First he was turned down on his perfectly... insane... idea, why was the option that put him at the greatest possible risk of physical harm the one that came to mind for him first? He wasn't trying to die... was he? More... importantly than yet another layer of this steadily building mental breakdown he was going to have in the near future was the fact that Peaches was hurt much worse than he'd initially expected judging by Citron's worry and how the Wyvern was barely able to hold still. He did what he could to listen for the moment, his head steadily throbbing less and less as he recovered from his most recent introduction to the ground. And after he shrugged off his traveling pack, reintroducing it to the ground in the process, he felt a little better. Less weight, less pain, an easier time standing, an easier time thinking and paying attention to them commenting on performing surgery.

"Well, it's probably not the same," Edrick said, slowly picking through his words as he knelt, then sat, on the ground beside his pack and got to digging through it, "but I've had a few pointy sticks dug out of me. I... think I can help." He was a little distracted with his fishing through that bag, and eventually found what he was looking for. First out came a whetstone that was very, very well used judging by the concave sides. The second was a beaten up wooden box, which he opened to reveal a trio of very well looked after knives. He had been doing a good bit of the cooking since he'd joined them, and the knives were one of a number of things he brought from his home.

"But uh... probably shouldn't... be the one doing any work here." It wasn't exactly pleasant, but Edrick had to accept that right now there wasn't very much he could really do to help. Just hold still, try not to get hurt any more, and let the... actually qualified people do what needed to be done. Whatever was happening in the house he probably couldn't help with at this point. Link was already too far ahead for him to catch, and this... this just had to go without him for right now. 

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites
Posted (edited)

Penelope and Alois

At the end of the hall, there stood a door much like the other doors in the house—sturdy elm of a paler hue than the stout oak so often used for doors in Galtea. Here at least was something very Histian in a house decorated in the style of Penelope's home country. Through the door, the girl would hear the flapping of wings and the cry of birds. Were she to open it, the sight that greeted her, while certainly exciting, was not at all surprising for the tactician. With the feathers swirling in the air, it almost looked like a scene from a play.

Alois and a familiar brunette woman faced each other on opposite sides of the room, chests heaving for breath. Both bore reddened marks on their body, the fighter on his neck and the woman on her forehead. Penelope would recognize the other as Dille, the maid from before. She appeared to have transformed into an entirely different person. In the kitchen, she had stared at the floor, shoes tucked underneath the apron on her maid's dress, and her hair wrapped in a prim net. Now she leaned forward with both legs wide apart in an upside-down U shape, apron and dress tied up with the hairnet on one side for ease of movement.

Dille glanced at Penelope. "Tsk, another uninvited guest. It's obvious y'all ain't ne'er learned yer manners, barging into m'lord's house like this." The maid rushed toward the tactician like a wildcat. "But I'll escort ye out!"


Gunther, Edrick, Citron, and Raki

When Gunther arrived at the stable, he saw no horses, but a familiar wyvern on the ground, Edrick, Citron, and Raki surrounding her. An arrow stuck out of her chest.

Most people would realize the seriousness of the situation right away. If not because of the blood seeping from the wound, then at least from everything else. Peaches lay still with closed eyes. Citron shook her head, teardrops flying from her face. Raki held a knife in his hand, explaining something in a low voice. Edrick, who appeared significantly more disoriented and scuffed up than Gunther had seen him last, held up multiple knives of his own.

Things were looking grim.

At this moment, multiple villagers leaned out of their windows or opened their doors, alerted by the noise. One of them, Thile, the woman whose stall Citron had repaired earlier that day, gasped in fright. "Shit. Tha' winged lizard looks bad. I'm gonna grab some bandages. Be right back!" She hopped back down the road toward her house.

Her actions broke the others back from their daze. A fat shopkeeper with long curly hair and clothes covered in rooster feathers brought several vulneraries and a couple of concoctions. "I don't know if this'll help, but here," he held them out to the group. "I run a shop selling medicines like this. That wyvern… it looks scary, but it's an animal all the same." He fidgeted. "I was an animal recently myself, so I'd like to help."

"Same here," Thile muttered, arms laden with bandages. "An', er, ye helped me repair mah stall, so's this is just makin' things square, is all."

Achos, the bulky lumberjack that had assisted with the rebuilding, stared at the arrow. "Aye, ah'm sure I 'cognize tha' arrer too. It's from that bastard, Gaston," he growled. "I knew 'twas bad all along. Let us know if'n ye need help wiv anythin'. I can do any heavy liftin'." He flexed his muscles.

The other villagers murmured their agreement, rolling up their sleeves with expressions of determination.


Link, Tsetseg, Cora, and Garinphasia

Ahead of Link, the road split into a T-intersection. Gaston had gone left, but from the right came the clip-clop of hoofbeats. The horse heard them, too, pricking his ears and veering left to avoid crashing into them. Soon enough, the mercenary would see three cavaliers, two of them he recognized—Cora and Acantha. Cora carried a familiar-looking archer with her. The two-toned girl pointed at the intersection with excitement, keeping her balance even with one hand.

For Tsetseg and Cora, they could see a side road approaching, and from it emerged a magnificent-looking silver bay destrier. Atop it rode a familiar figure in green, looking far more comfortable atop a horse than he had on two feet. His face was wild and a fierce light shone in his eyes, much like the warriors of Locris when the wrath of battle was upon them.

With Tsetseg's warning and the horse's hearing, the group avoided an accident, now racing alongside each other. It became apparent that Link would outstrip the rest in no time. While the militia had fine horses compared to most villagers, they had still repurposed them from farm horses. They were not pedigreed equines bred for riding into battle like the one Link took from Gaston.

"Didn't take you for a horseman. So you finally decided to join the party, huh? Took you long enough," Acantha quipped, returning to her formal speech from before. Behind her, Phai bit her lip, directing her horse to the right to avoid drawing near to the ferocious-looking mercenary.

The group, with Link at the front, arrived at Phar's back gate. Gaston had already gone through, plowing through the fields and stirring up the sheep in his haste. The nobleman's destination was clear: the forest at the edge of the village. The forest that many had already gone through: Licorice, Gunther, Sienna, Tsetseg, Phai, Raki, and Timmy.

There, Garinphasia rested, awaiting orders from Raki. The wyvern would hear hoofbeats, and see a large man on horseback carrying a bow in one hand headed straight for her. Behind him, he had strapped a large sack to the back of the horse. The man hadn't noticed Garinphasia yet, but he would soon enough if he continued.

Edited by Sethera

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites


Penelope wondered, briefly, if there was a reason this door was different than the others. Did it serve a different purpose, was it something that had to be replaced for some reason, or was it just an eccentric design choice in a house filled with eccentric design choices? The mystery would have to remain a mystery for now as she was certain now she could hear some sort of scuffle beyond the door. So she opened it as soon as she got close enough.

"It seems you've been having some fun." Penelope said, though she was relieved to see Alois still in one piece. As she had suspected the maid looked to be more than meets the eye. The way she stood it made it clear that she had training of some sort.

The woman ran towards her immediately after. Despite the maid's words Penelope suspected she wasn't intending to simply throw her from the house. She would have liked to speak to the woman before engaging in combat but that didn't seem an option.

Moving faster than she thought she could Penelope brought forth her quickest magic. A simple Wind spell that she sent at the maid. The crescent shape struck the woman dead on but, being also the weakest magic, didn't do much to slow the woman down. Evidentially she had some amount of magical resistance.

"Cease this! You are outnumbered and my knights will be here shortly. You cannot hope to make it out in time! Surrender now and I will be lenient."

With some reluctance Penelope drew her blade. The maid was getting too close now to try and attack with magic. Penelope had seen some close range magic fighters before but she was not practiced in such things.

Dille snorted. "And let meself get 'terrogated here? Not likely. Sorry, princess." Still running, she took out a dagger and threw it toward Penelope. "But the only one who should surrender 'ere is you."

Penelope narrowed her eyes and brought the sword up, blocking the dagger and knocking it aside. While this happened the woman JUMPED up into the air and over Penelope, able to clear her thanks to the high ceiling in this room, and landed behind her.

Penelope turned and stepped forward, "Stop her!" she said, perhaps redundantly, to Alois. She wasn't sure why but it felt like this woman would have important knowledge. Penelope may not be the fighter that her sister was but she wasn't about to let herself be bested so easily.

She gripped her blade. She felt that she still was somewhat leery about using the weapon. Slicing into another, causing grievous wounds from up close, wasn't something that she wished to have to experience again. But there was no time to think about that now. If she hesitated the woman would be able to get away. So Penelope stepped forward and swung her sword at the woman's back.




Instead of horses Gunther encountered a wyvern. Not only a wyvern but also several others. The newcomers and Edrick. There was a brief moment Gunther wondered what Edrick was doing with those two specifically but this thought was overridden as he saw the state of Peaches. Gunther began forward, thinking that he had to help somehow, before he paused.

He didn't know how to treat a wyvern. He had taken care of horses and the like now and then but wyverns were a different beast all together. Not to mention he didn't believe he had enough of a rapport with this one in particular yet to even be allowed to help.

Just as he stood there hesitating reinforcements came in the form of the village people. They all seemed to want to help. Even if this wyvern wasn't something any of them were used to treating surely together they would be able to figure something out.

His eyes fell on Citron, who was, while not injured, also in a sorry state. He approached the girl and spoke in a low voice. "Citron? I know this must be...frightening, but she still has plenty of strength in her, I do not think it's a fatal wound. Everything will be alright. But...and perhaps it is insensitive to say when you are struggling yourself, you need to remain calm so that Peaches can stay calm as well."




"Oh! Oh! Oh! Other horse that way!"

"Right!" Cora said and managed to avoid running into....that was one of Tsetseg's friends yeah? It seemed he was chasing Gaston. One might normally think that she should be more worried about the practical stranger who had taken a horse and was chasing someone through the village.

But that someone was Gaston so....

"Alright, let's catch em 'fore he gets into the forest! T'will be easier for 'im to get away if he gets there!" Despite saying this it was obvious that Gaston's horse was faster than hers, loathe as she was to admit it. But she did have one advantage yet.

"C'mon Abel, give it all you got..." She didn't think she would be able to catch up faster than Link but... "Tsetseg....I dunno if you have any trainin' shooting from a horse but...I'll try and get ya as close as possible so you can take a shot!"

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites
Posted (edited)

Citron's heartbeat hammered in her ears like a thunderclap with each breath she took. Everyone was... Speaking so much. They were trying to help, she knew that, but muddled with the sound of her own heartbeat, and the muffled, low thumps from Peaches as she held the Wyvern close, it was... All just noise for her, at this moment. Everything had happened so fast, and so... Much, today. When she was traveling, there were days where it seemed like hardly anything happened, and the day had stretched on; and yet here... So much, both good and bad, had been condensed into such a short amount of time. It was dizzying to think about, and in the haze she had wound up... Here, her Wyvern gravely injured, and she was... Unable to do anything. They were all...

The shopkeeper had spoken first; then Thile, as they offered her vulneraries and bandages both. 

Citron took a deep breath.

"...Right," she nodded, as she pulled away from Peaches, ever-so-slightly, and glanced towards Edrick. "I'm, er... I'm probably going to need one of your knives, or yours," she'd glance towards Raki, who she recalled having offered one as well. Peaches, to her credit, did little more than breath in an annoyed fashion at the onrush of people; but that was likely due to Citron refusing to budge from where she was at the Wyvern's side. "Does anyone here know how to remove an arrow?" she'd ask, her voice faltering only slightly as she raised it to try and catch the attention. "...Gunther? Do you? And Raki, do you know enough about the body of a Wyvern?" she'd ask, pulling just far enough away to get a better look at the wound, as squeamish as it made her feel. "I... I'll do it, since I'm the only one she's liable to let operate on her, but I'll need someone to walk me through this," she'd explain with a new-found resolve, pushed on by the kindness of those around her.

Edited by Tiamat's Circus

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites

Raki watched the events unfold in a daze. He had remained as stiff as a piece of wood since the villagers had come out by the dozen all around them. Out of his mind were the knives the boy had brought out, Completely unable to ask assistance to the knight that was speaking to Citron.

They had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, all of a sudden, and he was now surrounded on all sides by the people he had been hiding from for the last few days.

His eyes darted anxiously around, then fixated down, towards the pain that was rising form his hand. He had been clutching the knife without realizing, and the blade was biting on the side of his finger.

"I'm, er... I'm probably going to need one of your knives, or yours,"


She wasn't asking him. No, that wasn't correct. She was asking to everyone. Raki looked at the knives Edrick had brought out again, one of them now in Citron's hands. Sharp, clean, and carefully kept. The best tools possible for the job, short of purpose-made ones. Raki let go of the one he was holding, which fell to the ground with a metallic sound, as it landed on one of the others still on the ground.

That wasn't very smart. That could have been my feet.

Citron was now asking about the operation, bandages and vulneraries in hand.

"...Gunther? Do you? And Raki, do you know enough about the body of a Wyvern?"

"Uh... yes." Raki blinked "Yes, I think so."

He looked at the lumberjack and the other villagers, muscles bulging on their biceps.

'the best substitute would be several strong handlers...'

He turned towards the knight, Gunther. "I think she's right. Of anyone here, she's probably the one with the best chances of getting the wyvern to cooperate. I know wyverns, but I've never done this kind of operation myself."

Also, we now have good knives. And bandages. And medicine.

The villagers were still all around them. Citron was near the wound, but she wasn't crying this time.

"Still, it's probably better if we get some ropes around the wyvern so that we can keep her still, a sudden movement due to pain would be disastrous." He looked at the villagers, who had just offered their help, then Citron, at the wyvern's side "If you can fix some around her, we should be more than enough to handle it" He closed his eyes, remembering "The main points would be the wings, the jaw, the tail and limbs... Also, we need something to keep the torso still, without pressing on the ribs near the wound..."

After that... Gunther was knight. He had remained remarkably calm, even getting near to peaches to comfort Citron. Surely, he had some experience in removing arrowheads, right?


"I don't know if explaining how to operate from a distance is feasible, but a good rule is to trust the rider on the wyvern's behavior. Do you think you can guide her? I'll tell everything I know about it as well."



As a wyvern was laying wounded, another was laying wasting time. Garinphasia had been half asleep under the shade when she heard the approaching horses. After ignoring them for a few seconds, she realized that it wasn't just another passing noise. No, the source was approaching. Lifting her head the minimum needed to not leave her resting position, Garinphasia peeked over the bushes, towards the road. Sure, her far claw had intended for her to wait for his return. But this might as well have been him.

It wasn't. Just an incredibly large man with a bag. Though disappointed, the wyvern hesitated still before returning to her nap. After all, had the man continued on his current path, he would have found her,and her far claw wanted to keep her hidden. It was already too late to sneak back deeper into the forest without being seen, not that she would have ever backed down against a single man, even if that wasn't the case.

Garinphasia looked again at the man. the bag he was carrying reminded her of the one when she was a prisoner, a feeling that made her unconsciously tense. her far claw used to carry food to her in a bag like that.


But of course.

With a conclusion not at all influenced by her stomach, Garinphasia understood that the man must have had been sent by her far claw with the food for her. Of course.

She gazed around. No one in sight. With a satisfied growl, accompanied by a cacophony of broken branches and trampled bushes, the scaly beast emerged form the forest's edge, the tail swinging happily against the tree trunks, as she headed towards her meal with heavy but swift step.

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites

Link did little more than grunt in response to the arrival of Cora and Tsetseg and the rest of the militia. Truthfully, he barely noticed them, focused as he was on Gaston and closing the distance between them. It was only the intelligence of his steed that prevented him from crashing into the group when they unexpectedly arrived. It was unlike him to be so unaware, for he had made the mistake of a hundred-thousand other soldiers before him; he had allowed his rage and anger to consume him and erase everything from the world except the target of his anger. Gaston. The coward who thought himself a lord. The fool who had allied himself with the wrong side of a war he didn’t know was being waged. The bastard that should have died alone in a room full of birds earlier in the day, were it not for foolish mercy. Another mistake that Link knew he would have to correct.

"GASTON!" The mantra was the only thing his brain seemed capable of turning into spoken word. A promise of violence to himself and the man whose namesake he shouted as he braced himself and urged his horse to move faster through the fields. Faster toward the forest. Faster toward Gaston.

Link heard Cora shout something behind him. He ignored whatever she had said. 

The distance between them was closing more rapidly. Something in front of Gaston must have caused him to slow down. Link had no idea what it could have been but he was grateful to it. Just a few more feet and he would be in-range to intercept the man.

What he did next could probably have been classified as criminally insane. As the gap between the two lessened, Link kept one hand firmly braced on his horse’s neck to support his balance, his sword gripped tightly in the other, but pushed with his braced hand to start to lift his body higher in the same motion that he brought his legs up beneath him. His feet were sat on the back of the horse after that, his thighs tensed, every motion of the horse causing his balance to teeter, but he remained resolute.

To anyone watching the intent would become clear. Lincoln Harkinian was preparing to jump off of the back of the horse and tackle Gaston. 

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites


Getting into a fighting stance, still ready to brawl with this sham of a maid, the boy briefly looked over to see that the door had opened to reveal yet another combatant into this mayhem. On the one hand, Alois was relieved that it was help for his side rather than some other lethal housekeeper come to kill him. On the downside it was Penelope. He had every bit of confidence in her ability to give orders but her ability to stop a trained assassin in a melee was something he was certainly skeptical about. The maid also seemed to take this as an opening to escape, bolting away from him almost immediately, prompting the boy to shout, "hey! Get back here!" 

Thankfully the maid had little interest in actually fighting Penelope, first charging through her wind spell and then literally jumping over her head - "what the -" recovering from the surprise of the acrobatic stunt Alois shouted, "already on it!" Alois began running towards the exit of the room as Penelope attempted to stop the maid herself. The maid twisted herself away from the sword swing, only being shallowly cut by the attack. Before the woman could continue to run or attack back, though, she was met immediately with the full force of Alois's charge. 

The woman was knocked back by the attack, with Alois continuing to charge going to ram into her again. The woman brought up her arms, as if attempting some kind of maneuver against the boy, but the raw brute strength of his tackle had completely ignored whatever it was she was trying knocking her off her feat and onto the ground. Moving to pin her arms to the ground to keep her from running Alois shouted, "got you! Wow that was way easier then I thought it'd be. Do you just throw knives, is that your only job here?" 


With the duo having veered away from imminent collision, Tsetseg brightened up as she shouted, "green man!" seeing the other rider that had come with them. It didn't take long for the rest of the militia that she had talked to come as well, the whole group all chasing after Gaston now. With everyone reaching the back gate, Tsetseg continued to hold onto Cora as they hastily galloped towards him but looking past her could see that they weren't gaining on him any. If anything Link had already continued to move past them and Tsetseg was concerned that she wouldn't be able to do much of her patrol duties, so to speak, to stop the dastardly man from getting away. Then, as Cora spoke her eyes brightened and she nodded, "right right!"

Letting go of the girl and balancing on the horse more freely, the girl pulled her bow off her back. She herself wasn't exactly an accomplished horseback riding archer, not like some of the people she knew from back home. She had barely known how to ride a horse and the one time she tried to free fire from horseback on her own was something of a miserable failure. After the others saw her flop on the ground, though, she had received some help from the village people in an attempt to cheer her up, riding being nothing more than an archer with an actually seasoned rider to help her. The results still weren't nearly as good as when her own two feet were planted on the ground but they weren't nothing either. And here, with the wind rushing past her, she once again had to trust all the technical work of riding the horse to Cora with her simply having to aim and shoot. 

Gaston was still riding away on a remarkably fast horse. And to make matters worse Link had already begun to converge on him, making his back more obscured. And to make matters even more worse there a wyvern - another wyvern! - that attacked the horse as well. While Tsetseg had half a mind to take the flying thing out of the air she had a job as a self appointed temporary member of the Phar Patrol. To take down the villain that was running away! Tsetseg wasn't exactly skilled with one shot kills and her shot was fairly obscured but with her task only being to stop or inhibit the man it made it a lot easier. After all, he wasn't just a man, he was a man and a horse! So, pulling back her arrow, the girl fired it towards both Gaston's leg and the horse's flank, trying to find its mark there to slow the rider down at least. 

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites

Penelope and Alois

The maid spat crossly. "I throw whatever I want." She stopped struggling, though, as if realizing the futility of it. "Didn't expect that kind o' strength outta a twig like you," she mocked instead. "Needed a girl to save yer butt, too. What a joke."

Gunther, Edrick, Citron, and Raki

The villagers gave what help they could, following directions and working together with an ease found only in those used to such things. Villages are formed when people come together for the sake of living. They work together and put their skills to use. In times of crisis, they gather with a readiness only found in trained servants or soldiers. A few glanced sideways at Raki, but most paid him no mind. Their usual xenophobia put aside in favor of helping an injured creature.

"We'll provide what help we can," the shopkeeper said.

"I've got a bowl of water here," Pheodea, the village weaver, stepped forward. She placed it on the ground next to Citron, keeping the girl between her and the wyvern.

"Bandages 'ere," Thile plopped down a basket of bandages.

"An' I can lift the wyvern if'n ya need," Achos bragged. "I'm very strong. Only fer a bit, though. 'M not that strong. It'd take a beast t'lift it o'erhead or summat," he joked.

Everything was in place. Citron had the tools. She had the supplies. She had the help. Now, all she had to do was start.

Link, Tsetseg, Cora, and Garinphasia

Link jumped, but whether it was because of the wind, the timing, or the speed of his horse, he fell short. Thankfully, the meadows outside Phar were carpeted with a rich layer of grass, fertilized with sheep's dung, and as Timmy would say, "perfect fer lyin' doon on." And so the mercenary's landing was soft and springy. Even the earth was soft, churned up like butter by sheep hooves. Considering what happened next, one could even say he had the most fortunate result.

Tsetseg's arrow flew straight, finding its mark on the horse's flank. With a piercing neigh, the horse stopped and reared. While the bundle stayed strapped on, Gaston was flung off of its back. It stamped its hooves down, tossed its head, and then galloped in a frenzy toward Garinphasia, rolling its eyes till the milky whites showed. In its panic, it didn't care how large or dangerous the wyvern was. All it knew was the pain in its leg.

Meanwhile, Gaston slammed onto the ground, rolling to the side and clutching his arm with a piteous moan. He rose, staggering after the horse, with an expression as wild as the beast's. "No! I must… for His Lordiness…"

Edited by Sethera

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites

Link landed shoulder first when he hit the ground. The impact drove the wind from his lungs and caused his ears to ring. For a split second the whole world began to grow further and further away. It was a sensation he was familiar with—lapsing in and out of consciousness was nothing new to the soldier. Link bit down on the inside of his cheek as hard as he could manage and the sharp sting of pain was enough to cut through the mental fog. He could hear the pounding of hooves and a terrified horse, a pained groan that was not his own, and even more oncoming hooves. His instincts briefly caused him to tense in anticipation of a cavalry charge before his vision cleared and he saw who the approaching horses were.

He took a quick assessment of his faculties as he pushed himself to his feet. He was hurt. He had been hurt before his failed stunt; his shoulder had been ground into mince meat when he used it as a makeshift battering ram, and huge bruises had formed on his torso from the spots his armor had blocked the knives thrown in his direction. That and all the injuries from fighting the dragon what felt like a lifetime ago—but was in actuality only a few hours before—meant that he was far from healthy. When he accounted for the new injuries from his fall, mainly a significant amount more pain in his shoulder and a stabbing senstation when he breathed in too deeply that told him he might have cracked or bruised a rib, he would say that he was actually in quite bad shape all things considered.

But truth be told he had gotten off lucky with the fall. It had probably broken his rib and messed up his shoulder, but that was minimal damage when the speed and force with which he had fallen were considered. 

Not that he had time to REALLY dwell on any of that. Link saw his sword standing straight up, buried a few inches into the dirt, several feet in front of him. The huge horse he had been riding had slowed to a stop not far from it.

Link cradled his aching arm close to his stomach and hobbled forward to retrieve his sword. It was a blessing that his left arm was not injured anymore. 

He wrenched it free and limped over to Gaston. There was no pity in his eyes when he raised his sword; no sympathy for the keening of a wounded man. Link’s eyes were hard and cold, and his normally soft blue orbs could have been mistaken for two chips of ice in that moment. 

It was clear to anyone what his intent for Gaston was.

Edited by Cheshire Toon

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites


"Good work Alois!" Penelope said. She couldn't have been sure if that would work but she was glad to see it had. The woman was struggling but, unlike the maid, Penelope knew Alois was strong. She stepped a bit closer, though not too close, and looked down on the woman.

"So this is the part I ask who you're working with, you refuse, I threaten, you don't believe me, then I have to do something drastic to get you to believe me. But you don't seem that dumb, think we could maybe skip to the part you tell me what I want?"

"Ha!" the maid snorted. "Ye've got some wit on you, girl. I like that. But sorry to say, I ain't have much to tell. Just doin' my job, s'all."

"What job is that? I know maids can be trained for more than just cleaning but this seems a bit excessive, unless there's another job involved."

"A job's a job. I'm hired t'take care of milord Gaston, and that's what I'm doing."

"Doing a great job at that, he's probably already been caught. By some people a lot less nicer than me at that. They're probably getting all sorts from him as we speak; so how about you tell us anything you can before he can sell you out?"

The maid laughed. "Nice one. Guessin' ya took Interrogation 101." She spat at Penelope's feet. "But them tricks ain't workin' on me. Mostly cuz I ain't have nothin' to say. Not like they say aught to us down on the lower rungs of society. But a pretty princess like you wouldn't know nuffin about that, huh?"

Why yes, she had read that in a book, as all things, which is why she was a bit cross it didn't quite work. It did give her a small nugget of information though so she would take that. Every little bit helped. "No, I suppose I wouldn't. I could tell you about my time sneaking out of the castle but you don't really care about that. However, I do know one thing. I know nobles when I see them and Gaston is certainly not. Which means someone important enough to not 'say aught' to you must be behind this. And I'm certain you at least know who that is."

"Pah! A noble's a noble to us on the bottom," the maid responded airily. "Don't matter to us how high up they are. They're all the same. Mayhap to you, differences like that mean summat, but to meself, e's my lord and master and payin' me coin. 'Tis all that matters."

Penelope could tell that wasn't the full truth. Maybe the sentiment behind it but she was certain this woman, talented and confident as she seemed to be, had someone of at least moderate power behind her. With a sigh she looked at Alois and said, "I'm sorry, but I think your clothing might get messy soon seeing as she's being so stubborn."


"...Gunther? Do you? And Raki, do you know enough about the body of a Wyvern?"

"Mm." Gunther didn't reply right away. He was no expert, that was for sure, and he didn't want to give off that impression. If they relied on his knowledge alone it could be dangerous.

However there wasn't time to find those who would be better suited so he would have to do what he could. "Yes, I have some idea. We'll have to be careful but I think I can be of assistance in this."

"I think she's right. Of anyone here, she's probably the one with the best chances of getting the wyvern to cooperate. I know wyverns, but I've never done this kind of operation myself."

Gunther nodded in agreement. He wasn't sure yet what kind of person this boy was but it seemed that together they could figure something out. Of course the most important one here was Citron herself. She would be taking most of it on herself.

Which meant he absolutely must remain calm and confident. Speaking directly to Citron he said, "It should all go well as long as we take this carefully. You think you're ready to do this?" He glanced over at Peaches. "If you aren't up for it I can try." He gave Citron a smile. "Might get bit in the process but even if I can't say I'm the strongest knight I'm still plenty tough."


Cora winced as she saw the arrow hit the horse. It worked, which was what was important, but it did feel a bit bad having to hurt the animal to get the job done. She stayed atop her own horse for a moment as she wasn't quite sure if Gaston's mount would change course and come running them down. But, seeing Link make his move, Cora realized she couldn't stay up there. "Someone keep an eye on that horse!" she gestured towards Gaston's rampaging horse as she got off her own.

Cora hurried over between Link and Gaston, standing sideways so she could keep an eye on both. "Hold on a mite there, 'fore things get messy." She glanced at the mud. "Messier. Now I don't know what sorta bad things he done but we gotta lock him up first." She'd glance towards Gaston, "always thought you were an odd duck but didn't think ye'd break any laws, what did ya do to get this guy so riled?"

Gaston wept, holding out his arm, which was bent at an awkward angle. "Feast your eyelids on me! I, Lord Pylauses Gaston, have been most ignominably treated by this murderifous buffoon." He pointed with a finger from his good arm. "Even presently, he must be strategizing to murderize me. It must be due to the compassionate clemency of the Dragon that you are here now. Please, restrain this savagious savage!"

"Huh?" Cora still couldn't keep up with the things Gaston said. "Now, I don't quite get what yer getting at but, I reckon if this guy got rough with you there musta been something that started it. So how bout you both come on back with me so we can sort this out? Far as I'm concerned both of ya got some explaining to do."

Gaston shook  his head. "Non, non, there has been a most egregious aberration! I am the gudgeon! He is the criminality! Arrestify him!" He continued pointing at Link.

"Gaston dagnabit talk like a normal person fer once why don't ya?" Cora made sure to keep an eye on both of them as she got closer to Gaston. "Just come with us and there's not much he can do to ya, ye can explain everything once we get back."

"Nay! Nevermore! You shall never take me in viability!" Gaston fled from the pair, running toward his horse.

"Oi, you right fool stop that!" Cora said, and took hold of her sword's grip before running as well, attempting to cut Gaston off.

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites

The people around them moved to help however they could, Raki barely managing to thank them for their aid before another one came to help with something else. The boy couldn't not remain astonished by the incredible ease with which they relied on each other, everyone working with their fellow villagers with confidence, as if they had been training for this their entire lives.

Of course Raki realized, while trying to clarify as best as he could how the wyvern should have been prepared for the operation. That is exactly what they've been doing, in a sense.

Well, maybe not quite exactly for this specific situation, but the point still stood.

When he deemed the preparations to be adequate, he turned towards Gunther and Citron, who were now talking to each other.

"I don't think there's much else we can do. I'll try to be as clear as possible but..." Raki shook his head. "I don't know, if you want Sir Gunther could be the one operating while you keep Peaches calm... but honestly, you're the only one who can truly say what is the best option."

Whatever would happen next, Raki would then start by saying where to work the edges of the wound without causing further damage, so that the arrow could be more easily removed later on.


The delivery was unexpected, but that wasn't a problem.

Garinphasia wasn't sure about the meaning of the fight in front of her, but that was irrelevant. Her dinner was running towards her, and that was what truly mattered. Oblivious to the fury of the green warrior, the wyvern lunged in front of the fleeing horse, blocking its path as to leave the poor beast no recourse but to veer left or right, lest it crash upon the wyvern's scales.

Wings spread out to hide the next move, her heavy tail would then curve around, to slam on the ground on whichever side the horse would choose, cutting off the escape.

Pleased and famished, Garinphasia stopped form a moment, to decide if she should go for the horse or for the bag. She could do both, to be fair.

But she would do neither.

A much more pressing threat than hunger had just made herself known to the wyvern. Something- Someone, whom she could not simply ignore.

The one who had challenged her was back, armed with a bow, and in company to boot. A confrontation that the need to aid her Far Claw had cut short.

But her Far Claw was, indeed, far away from here, now.

Garinphasia fixed her gaze on Tsegtseg, a low growl daring her to come closer and steal her food from her.

Edited by Arkars

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites

“...You should all be able to approach as far as you need to help walk me through this,” Citron spoke, her voice catching in her throat as she knelt by the wyvern’s side. She knew Peaches; she could tell the Wyvern was in pain, and as much as the wyvern would do anything to protect her… As long as she acknowledged them, and didn’t seem worried - and as long as they remained unthreatening - they would be fine. “...But I think I’m the only one she’ll trust to actually do this,” she reaffirmed, doing her best to smile. “After all we wouldn’t want you squandering that good grace you’ve garnered with her, would we, Gunther?” she did her best to smile briefly as she nodded towards him. “...And you’re on thin ice enough with her as well, Raki; so you shouldn't push it,” she turned to nod towards him as well, before returning her attention to the Wyvern in front of her.

Her hands were shaky as she knelt down, and began examining the arrow in more detail. Her own chest hurt in a sympathetic fashion, but she pushed the guilt aside as she cleared her throat, and raised the knife. “...Peaches,” she began, speaking softly. “...Grandpa must have done this for you at some point, alright? So I’m going to need you to trust me, when I say; this is going to hurt, but it will save your life. Do you hear me?” she’d ask, using her free hand to lightly pat the Wyvern’s scales. She waited then, for a moment, for a low rumble of ascent to escape the wyvern’s throat; it wasn’t that of a screech, but it was still an acknowledgement.

So there was nothing to do, but begin.

“...I’m counting on you all,” she’d murmur; using one hand to steady the Wyvern’s scales around the wound, while she held the knife as steadily as she could in the other; Peaches, for her part, staying as still as she could whilst still breathing. Citron listened then, as Raki described the process. Her hands shook, but she was… Careful; slowly tracing a steady line from the side of the bolt, enlarging the entry-wound slightly, and removing a couple of scales in the process. “...We need to enlarge the surface of the wound, slightly, so that we can try to pull the arrow out as safely as possible; for that, we also need to hold it open,” Citron parroted; in her own words as she spoke through each step, taking a small line of fishing-line and a hook from the supplies they had brought, and very carefully holding the hide away from the arrow. “This will allow us to get a better hold on the bolt, and also make sure nothing gets left behind.”

As she did so, she carefully swapped from her free hand holding the bandages against the scales, to carefully remove the damaged scales; holding a bandage to the wyvern’s hide with the elbow of her bad-arm as she placed the knife down, and took a pair of sticks brought by the villagers in her good hand. “...Then, prepare the implements by disinfecting them, right? Does, er… Anyone have some honey?” she’d ask, glancing around. To her surprise, while no one did - someone was able to fetch some quickly enough; her heartbeat as an ever-present reminder in her mind that they didn’t have much time.

But they were fast enough, and so she continued; taking the jar and carefully coating the two, straight sticks of wood. Her stomach shifted uncomfortably as she hesitated for a moment, before… Slowly, and carefully, inserting the sticks on opposite sides of the arrow, now a possibility due to the hide being pulled apart, and pinch them together against the shaft of the bolt. “And then, with a steady hand, we have to feel for the barbs with the implements, so that you can match the entry-wound,” she explained, trying her best to keep her lunch down as she felt a mixture of blood and wound press in around her fingers as she pressed the sticks further in, until they were interrupted as she felt the sticks pressed something hard; halting their progress. “...And then, you pinch them together, and… have to pull it out,” she swallowed uncomfortably, hesitating for a moment. Peaches, for her part, had been gentle; shaking in the way that any might should they be in pain, but… Never so much as screeching in Citron’s ear--

Even as she pulled the arrow free; sweat beading on her forehead as she took careful measure to match the entry-wound to the best of her capability. It was only as she threw the bolt, now free of its victim, to the ground; that Citron felt as if she could focus, or even hear, again. “...Then, comes dressing the wound!” she yelled; parroting their words, though by this point, she knew what she was doing. Her heartbeat thumped, loudly, in her chest as she balled the bandages up, pressing them as tightly as she could, and made to stuffing them into the wound; blood rising, and mixing with the honey she had already begun applying to the bandages as she stuffed the wound as well as she could with her good hand. it wasn't long until she had lost count of the number of bandages pressed within the wound, the experience of pressing them in until they were soaked with blood becoming an almost endless cycle, but... She found herself focused again whence she had finished that work, and could instead focus on applying vulneraries to the edge of the wound. The hooks were the last to be removed, as she began to bandage the surface of the wound, taking careful care to press the scales back together as well as she could, bandaging the lizard, until…

Blood-soaked as her hands, both the good and the bad, were; she was… Done. All that was left was to…

Hope it worked.

Taking in a deep breath, Citron stood up as she did so, glancing around as she held her hands awkwardly in front of her, still-dripping with a mixture of blood and honey as she did so. “...I… Will have to change her bandages fairly regularly, for a while; and then once a day until it heals,” she’d explain, swallowing nervously, as she did her best to recall the off-handed first-aid she had learned back on the orchard. “But I think, we’re… Past the worst of it,” she explained, hope steady in her voice as she gave a slight bow to not only Raki, Gunther, and Erdick; but also the villagers. “Thank you, for your help, all of you,” she did her best to force a smile to her face as she spoke; even as she scrubbed idly at her bad hand with the good, as if doing so might remove the blood from both of them, rather than smear it further.

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites


As the questioning between the princess and the maid continued, Alois let out a sigh as it seemed that this was getting them nowhere. As Penelope turned to Alois, suggesting what was about to happen, he simply said, "yeah yeah alright." Placing more pressure on the maid's arms the boy said, "so a noble's a noble eh? Sure, but where do you think you'll find your next paycheck from? A disgraced asshole who left you here to fend for yourself? One that's probably gonna die or be thrown in jail in the next few hours anyway. Or better yet, where do you think you'll find employment as a killer without arms?"

The woman attempted to shift in place, gritting her teeth when she couldn't move. "Tough talk from Sir Noodle Arms 'imself. E'en wivvout arms I could take ye, one on one, when yer not hidin' behind some bird's skirts." 

Alois's brow furrowed, clear annoyance on his face as he said, "alright." With his patience with this woman having been tested and already having the go ahead from Penelope he let go of one of her arms, bringing a knee to her gut before she could move and taking a hard swing at the woman's face. Resuming his hold the boy glared at her. "I'm not a professional at this, I'm just pissed. So I'll keep doing this until my employer tells me not to, and I've taken stronger folks arms then yours." A pause, before a very obviously annoyed, "bitch."

"Oof," the woman let out a grunt, eyes going unfocused for a moment before she leaned her head sideways and spat at his feet. "Fine, fine." She laughed in a crackly voice. "Whaddaya wanna know? I'm warnin' ya, though. I don't know nuffin'."

Giving a wry smile Alois said, "that's the spirit. Alright, first, what were you hired for?"

"I was hired to look after 'is lordship." The maid smiled. "I clean the place, cook the meals, and if'n the worst comes to pass an' a group of bullies like you come along, I protect 'im."

"Was ''is lordship'," a clear mock in his tone as he referred to Gaston as such, "the one who hired you?"

"Who else?" the maid spat. "Sure, 'e ain't the friendliest, but at least 'e pays well."

"Alright let's try this then. Has he ever talked with any other nobles you've seen, around here or otherwise?"

"Not that I've seen. Ye can ask any o' the villagers about that. They'd be on it quicker 'an flies on honey. Just can't shut their yaps when it comes to gossip."

Unsatisfied, Alois sighs for a moment before saying, "fine. Last question then. The princess- the bigger one that came in here not her. What happened to her?"

"Oh, her. She got drunk an' passed out. I helped put 'er to bed in the guest room meself. Ain't seen 'er since but I ain't been payin' attention, what wiv everyfing going on and you standin' here 'olding me arms hostage." The maid scoffed. 

"Great," Alois said curtly. Turning to Penelope he said, "well, we've already searched every guest room there is and there hasn't been any trace of Cat. At least we know what happened." Turning back to the maid he said, "now, see, was answering a few questions really so hard?"


With Gaston no longer being on his horse, Tsetseg kept her bow at the ready to fire an arrow off if he tried anything against either Cora or Link. She got an arrow ready and was about to pull it back just to prepare, when she spotted something else. She had been aware of the wyvern, obviously, the whole time and had been somewhat conscious of its actions even though Gaston falling off his horse had given her a brief lapse in spotting it. But she noticed it was no longer doing anything, save for staring back at her.

The girl locked eyes with it, seeming to understand that there was some kind of a challenge being provided from it on an instinctual level, letting out a growl to match its own. Hers was, of course, much less intimidating coming from a smaller, human, body though perhaps was equally as so for that very reason. While she had a half mind to respond to it with actual violence, as it was no longer attacking anything and Gaston was running, Tsetseg had to put her grudge behind herself for a moment. Pulling back her arrow, she broke the staring contest with the wyvern as she fired it towards Gaston's leg, attempting to keep the hysterical man from fleeing in anyway.  

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites

Penelope and Alois

"Oh, go an' blow a flabby one, ye pinprick-pinteled wandought," the maid spat crudely. If looks could kill, she'd have speared him through already. Fortunately for Alois, he remained intact and whole. Unfortunately for him, the maid found her second wind shortly after. Fueled by frustration and anger, she used Alois's momentary lapse of attention to her advantage. The woman heaved the fighter off of her and regained her feet. "I ain't 'ave time fer ye two, so I'll jest be on me way. Ye gots yer answers, so leave me be, an' I'll do ye the same." The maid hared out the door, swerving around Penelope, the sudden motion causing a flurry of activity from the pigeons in the dovecote. It would be difficult to follow her through the hail of birds.

Gunther, CitronRaki, and Peaches

Luckily for Peaches, with Citron leading the way, and Gunther, Raki, and the villagers helping, the operation went without a hitch. The arrow was out, and the biggest danger had passed. Despite the wyvern's body still being injured, sore, and weak, the sharp pain that had wracked her chest had lessened slightly. All that remained was to wait for recovery. The bandages would need to be changed out for fresh ones every so often, and the wound checked in case infection set in. But that was, at least, familiar territory for most of them.

When Citron expressed her gratitude, Thile grinned. "Oh, t'was no problem a'all. Us Phar folks, we git things done."

"Right glad I am t'see the wyvern's doin' all right. Wouldn't be right t'see one o'em go. T'would be a bad omen, 'em being so alike to—" Achos wiped his brow.

"Aye," Pheodea spoke over him. "I'm sure it would. But for now, we should focus on cleaning up the area."

The older woman turned to Raki. "I don't know how you got here, and I don't know what your purpose is, but anybody who would help a creature in need like that is somebody I'm willing to trust. If you do no harm to Phar, then no harm will come to you here neither."

The weaver smiled momentarily at him before purposefully turning her back to the Isaurian and barking out orders to the other villagers. "Clean up the area. Any sharp pieces need to be cleaned up, sharpish. Make sure all the blood is gone, or it'll attract flies. Gather up all the cloths." When one of them gave her a sullen look, she shook her head. "Don't look at me! I'm just an old woman! You're lucky my old bones even made it over here."

Link, Tsetseg, Cora, and Garinphasia

Tsetseg's arrow struck true, and Gaston staggered with a cry like a wounded beast. "Oh, woe is me! Lackaday, for I have been besieged most aggressively by these foul ruffians." A mad glint came into his eyes then. "But ho, there is yet promise." He stumbled forward, angling toward his horse. Were Link or Cora to approach him, he would ignore both.

Meanwhile, his horse, still galloping, veered to the side to avoid Garinphasia, running over her tail. Spittle flew from the horse's mouth as it turned, aiming away from the trees and toward open land.

Where Gaston stood, arms outstretched, though one of them was bent at an odd angle. "You will cessate now! For your master! You are but a mere beast, and I, a hunter of beasts. I, Lord Pylauses Gaston, commendate you!" When it became apparent the horse would not stop, his brow furrowed, and with his good hand, he grabbed hold of the animal by the neck, forcing it to a stop in front of him. The man laughed wildly. "Yes! Yes! If you shall not acquiesce, then I must bring you to heel. Now, let us go!" Once more, he attempted to get back astride the horse.

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites


Penelope frowned. Much of what the maid was saying made sense at first glance but she couldn't help but feel there was something she was missing. She wasn't nearly satisfied with the answers. Particularly not the hand wave of what happened with her sister. The idea that she'd willingly get drunk in a place like this was absurd. Though it seemed likely that she had somehow been put to sleep. Or else there was no way she'd not have done something to stop Gaston by now.

"You know things would go much better for us if you answered everything so readily." Penelope said, starting to grow impatient with the way this woman spoke. Unfortunately her impatience made her miss the signs that the woman was about to break free until it was too late.

"I ain't 'ave time fer ye two, so I'll jest be on me way. Ye gots yer answers, so leave me be, an' I'll do ye the same."

"Not nearly enough answers, I still haven't...hold, hold I say!" Penelope started after the woman, only to be caught up in a flurry of feathers as the birds took off. "Don't think you can jus- ah!" she called out in alarm as she tried to force her way past only to end up falling backwards in the process.


Gunther breathed out a sigh of relief. It seemed that everything would be alright here now. Even as the villagers seemed to brush off their thanks Gunther gave a short bow. "Please, accept our gratitude. You didn't have to do so much for people you don't know yet you still did. I can say with certainty that the people of Phar are good folk." When they began to clean up Gunther considered offering to help them. But then he paused.

It suddenly occurred to him that in all this time he hadn't see Penelope nor Alois. They should have been able to investigate the entire house by now yet they still hadn't returned. "Ah. This might be sudden but I must go now." He told the others. "I must be sure that Penelope is safe." He figured that Citron would stay with Peaches for now and he had no authority to tell her nor Raki what to do anyway, and he wasn't sure it would be a good idea to enlist Raki's help just in case. And then there was Edrick which....

"I should be fine on my own. Link must have caught that man by now so perhaps..." he looked around at the mess as if to suggest helping. Though he couldn't with any confidence say it out loud. With an awkward grunt he headed back for the house on the search for the younger princess.


"Eh?" Came Cora's surprised reaction as Tsetseg hit Gaston with an arrow. "Ehhh?" Came another as Gaston kept going. "Ehhhhhhhh?" came a third when Gaston literally grabbed his horse and stopped it from moving.

"....Wait!" She called out suddenly, broken out of her shock as the man tried to climb back on his horse. "You...you stay right there, we have to take you in, dagnabit!" She looked to her horse then paused. She didn't want to ride it too close to that wyvern after all. So instead she just advanced straight on towards Gaston on foot, this time drawing her sword. "You're making a right fool of yourself Gaston, get back here this instant!"

She looked over at her companions. "Acantha, Phai, cut off his escape, don't gotta get too close just make sure he don't go nowhere if he tries riding off!"

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites

The wyvern was safe. Raki laid his back on the walls of Gaston's house and , finally, allowed his muscles to relax. He had not realized quite how tense the situation had made him not just in the mind, but in the body. Yet, the girl had made it. They all had made it.

"It's best if she doesn't put her weight on that side for a bit, but outside of the discomfort it shouldn't be too much of an issue, unless there's another blow in the area..." He murmured, unsure if someone was even listening, with the chatter around there. He stopped.

Did he even want someone to listen? If needed, he could just repeat those things to Citron later. The villagers had already gone above and beyond what he could have expected. As for the others...

Later, that was what he had thought. As if it was a given. As if there was no doubt that there would have been time, later, despite him having accompanied them almost by chance so far.

"I don't know how you got here..."

The boy tensed once again, as the older woman unexpectedly turned towards him.

"...If you do no harm to Phar, then no harm will come to you here neither."

As she finished what she had to say, he scrambled for an answer, he needed to... to...

to what?

As had happened before, during his excuse for an interrogation, he found himself without a clear goal for his words.

To assure her that he wasn't a threat? To say "Actually, I've got another wyvern myself, left her a couple of fields from here"? To reassure the village that he was going to leave soon?

As for the woman, she had already lost interest. Raki was nowhere near as high on the list of her current worries as she was on his. She... she was fine.

She was fine with him. Raki slumped down, feeling the weight of days of hiding form the village wash away from his shoulders. He felt... maybe not safe, not quite, but he felt nice. Very nice. It was nice feeling nice. Raki felt his eyes close for a moment. He could rest a bit now, let the others handle whatever was left to handle. The he could go and get...


Garinphasia was not pleased. She was also, as it was the case, extremely satisfied.

Her rival, while initially defiant, had in the end averted her gaze, recognizing thus her defeat, as far as Garinphasia was concerned.

The wyvern let out a celebratory roar, basking in the satisfaction of having brought the challenge to a close.

Perhaps, she basked a bit too much. Shots were fired, people screamed and rolled to the ground, and, as she was distracted by her challenge and subsequent jubilation, all of horse, bag and rider sidestepped her presence. In this, all of the humans present seemingly too concerned by whatever they had going on at the moment to care for the presence of the wyvern.

Garinphasia was not used to be ignored. And certainly, she was not used to not be in control of her surroundings. The wyvern instinctively folded back her wings tucked her head closer to her body, as tension swelled up in her muscles. The last time she had not been in control, she had been captured.

She smelled the air, trying to get a sense of the situation beyond her sight. If they were not worried about her presence, she had learned, it could have meant that either they were hostiles, or that they were aware of a danger greater than...


"Garinphasia!" Raki's eyes opened at once. With the wounded wyvern occupying his thoughts, it had completely escaped his mind. The self proclaimed noble and his pursuer had fled on horseback, possibly out of the town. Garinphasia was out of the town, and if he knew her, she had stayed as close as she could possibly manage. He jolted back up, immediately sprinting into a mad dash through the streets, doing his best to dodge the crowd in the area, more or less in the direction where the two had disappeared. Or at least, he hoped that that was the direction. Sure, it was hardly a guarantee that the escape would've ended up near were he and Phasia had left each other. But Raki really wasn't going to risk it like that, if he could still help it.

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites

Join the conversation

You can post now and register later. If you have an account, sign in now to post with your account.

Reply to this topic...

×   Pasted as rich text.   Paste as plain text instead

  Only 75 emoji are allowed.

×   Your link has been automatically embedded.   Display as a link instead

×   Your previous content has been restored.   Clear editor

×   You cannot paste images directly. Upload or insert images from URL.

  • Similar Content

    • By radio414

      So much to do, and so little time...
      The Story So Far
      Accepted Apps
      (AM 11/18/2022): Discord invite link added
      (PM 11/18/2022): Full OOC is now live!
      (AM 11/30/2022): The RP has now started! IC link added, accepted characters tab updated, discord invite link removed
      (PM 01/13/2023): Updated cast list upon Yui's departure
      (AM 04/13/2023): Forgot to update the cast list again, oops
      (AM 09/10/2023): Formally adding Belladonna to the list of players, also I changed a name in the setting spoiler because I am *very good* at keeping track of established moments
    • By LordCowCow
      It, like every night, was dark. However it wasn't stormy. Instead it was cold and somewhat clammy. The time was 10 PM and, unlike some larger cities, the streets were mostly barren. The moon in the sky, and the streetlights on the ground, made the dark night possible to traverse without being blind.
      They, in this case being Brian James Trantor and Carmen O'Conner, had gotten a message not long ago. It was from their mysterious savior/employer, Shiki. This was unusual, the first of several unusual moments, as the girl hardly ever used text messages to contact them. Though it was only a couple words, "Dagen Park" which was why they both had made their way towards said park.
      Park might be something of an exaggeration. it was rather large, it would only take a couple minutes to cross it, and only had a singular bench, under an old gazebo, to sit in. Some trees were scattered around, mostly around the edge to the left facing from the street, but not many and only one or two that were truly large. A playground sat in the center of the small grassy field which consisted of a couple slides, monkey bars, and a bit of a distance from that a pair of seesaws and a swing set that creaked with the slight breeze. Off to the side of said playground, at the right edge of the park, was a concrete area for parking. And there sat a singular vehicle.
      They each would recognize it as belonging to Shiki. A large van, practically a camper, that looked like it shouldn't be able to run. Yet they knew it did. Usually, yet another unusual thing tonight, this van was parked outside of their houses, or wherever they happened to be when Shiki wanted to contact them, and they'd use it to get to whatever Shiki needed them to do.
      However this time it was in another location. The reason why was clear to them soon.
      The third unusual thing of the night. Whenever they found said van they were the only ones who ever paid it any mind. However today there was another. For Brian this was Carmen. And for Carmen this was Brian.
      Without any warning it seemed that Shiki had decided that the two of them would meet tonight. In this park. On this cold and clammy night.

    • By LordCowCow
      Premise (Expanded)
      Mysterious Person
      Accepted Apps
    • By radio414

      180 DAYS REMAIN
      “This is an imaginary story… Aren’t they all?”
      -Whatever Happened to the Man of Tomorrow? (written by Alan Moore)
      Do All Words Can Do
      The events of the last few hours had taken their toll on Director Sekelsky. The reports of rioting were finally dying down, people were returning to their homes, and heroes were permitted to stand down, but that just meant it was time for the casualty numbers. Multiple people had been trampled in the initial panic, and several more were injured in what ensued afterward, including one of their own, a cape who went by the name of Spotlight. It was worth another few expletives. “Fucking goddamn piece of horseshit! Cass goes off the grid for who knows how long and then decides to pull this fucking stunt. Did they know? They must have known. Surely they realized what would happen next, right? So they just left everyone else to clean up their mess, huh?”
      There were four other people in the room, and each of them was in costume, so Director Sekelsky mentally adopted the standard name protocols. Cape names when dressed as capes. Easy. At the opposite end of the sweatbox of a meeting room (how could it be this fucking hot in here in fucking November?) were Override, Ember, and Aeon. They were the main recipients of this briefing, chosen for a number of reasons but there was really one big one: availability. None of them had been at Hallowmas or taken the holiday standby shift (and who could blame them? It was Halloween. Even Director Sekelsky had hoped to spend the night with his husband and daughter until whatever this shit was), which meant they were actually around this morning. The fact they all had some sort of criminal record was concerning but not work scrapping and waiting for someone else.
      Bard was there too, seated alone on the near end of the sweatbox next to the projection screen. His costume was positively ancient, and his mask one of those tacky theater masks that only covered half of his face, but he refused to change it, always citing more pressing issues of the time. The Director couldn’t fault him for that this time. He was taking this even harder than Director Sekelksy was; he had a pair of white-knuckled fists pushed as far into the table as he could manage, and he was shaking and muttering something under his breath. It was probably something to do with his Thinker powers, Director Sekelsky thought. It wasn't something he understood, but Bard had also been instrumental in G3’s response the last few hours and he’d been a wreck then too. As long as he was functional and managed to check in with one of G3’s counselors later, he’d be alright, right?
      He sighed. Thinking things through like this helped get the anger out of his system. The only emotion that remained now was a quiet determination. From an egotistical point of view, it was his best feature. He didn’t have any superpowers, but he wasn’t powerless. “First thing’s first, where’s DEUS?”
      “Helping with the riots,” Bard said. He eased up a little too now that the meeting had started. “He was spotted in Graceland a little before midnight so he actually wasn’t too far away when it started.”
      “For once,” Director Sekelsky said.
      “For once.”
      “But that means don’t count on it happening again. Not that we should ever count on him.”
      “Especially now that it’s daytime,” Bard said. “He’ll probably be too busy rescuing cats from trees or helping old women cross the street.”
      “Or rescuing old women from trees,” the Director snarked. “So Plan A, then. Alright.” Bard handed him a trio of folders and he turned his attention to the three capes in the back. One for each of them.
      “As you are no doubt aware, the Renegade Cape Cassandra predicted the end of the world at Hallowmas last night,” he said. “This is so obviously S-Class, it’s practically the definition of the term. Unfortunately, the actual words on the truces don’t agree here. They were written more for singular, concrete threats. A tornado, some supervillain who’s gotten too big for their britches, a bio-Tinker’s experiment run amok. Not something as nebulous and off in the distance as this. If we try to litigate this through the normal channels, that’s precious time lost we could have spent dealing with whatever the fuck this actually is, so we’re hoping to avoid that.”
      He tossed the folders down the table, one at a time. Landing them neatly at the edge right in front of his target without anything spilling out was something that had taken countless briefings just like these to perfect, but it was worth it every time. “We do have some language in our favor, however. We just need the leaders of each of the three main gangs to agree with us, and sign a document saying as much. You three will be facilitating that.”
      “In those folders are our profiles on the three gangs and the leaders,” Bard said, standing up as well. “Gibbons’ Caesar” -- he pronounced it “ˈsi zər” -- “The Zodiac’s Ophiuchus, and, of course, the Moray Clan’s three Fates. Most of it’s common knowledge, but make sure you’re up to date on it. It also has my best guesses as to how the negotiations are going to play out. Unfortunately, it is probably going to be a negotiation. Six months is a lot of time for Scarlet City’s underworld to play nice.”
      “We’re going to have to play nice in return,” Director Sekelsky said. “We were the ones with the most cape activity last night. Again, the extenuating circumstances favor us, and obviously so, but they’ll be looking for any concession they can get. Also included in those folders is a copy of a temporary S-Class agreement. It won’t last until April, but it’s something we can use when the Peacekeepers get their act together, so as long as you don’t do anything stupid like make a legally binding agreement without our negotiators present -”
      “Or start a fight,” Bard said.
      “- or start a fight, we’re giving you a lot of leeway on this. We need those signatures, you understand? The meetings are already set up. Catty Key buzzed everyone earlier, so be sure to thank her when you get the chance. Your first meeting is with the Fates in Echo Park, the other places and times are in there as well.”
      His eyes met Ember’s “Ember, you’re not going to that last one as per our existing agreement regarding Gibbons, report back here after The Zodiac meeting instead for a different assignment.”
      The last moment lingered a bit longer than Director Sekelsky intended, which mattered in the face of all the time pressure, but was still recoverable. “You have a few minutes to finish your reading, ask any questions, you might have, and then get going. Leave through the back while the sixes don’t have the building completely surrounded yet.”
      Hidden World
      Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos Lanthimos, the Moray Clan’s three Fates, arranged themselves in various positions about their lair’s (for lack of a better word) throne room searching for something that might fit the correct vibe. It was the new costumes that were the problem here. They’d just gotten three matching dresses from Rajawongse made out of Clotho’s fibers -- and they were the kind of dresses that came with pockets! -- but the room had been put together with their old aesthetic in mind. They’d started out so stereotypical, even getting one of those prop replica thrones from that one show, but the dresses were some kind of postmodern art. They had a flow to them that looked especially nice when they all stood together and the blotches of color started to blur. It was a total clash. The only pieces of fabric left from their old costumes were their blindfolds.
      “Blindfolds” was another one of those words that was technically true but not really. They were a solid black, but The Fates could all see through them just fine. Part of the magic of Clotho’s string was that its properties could be whatever she wanted it to be. That was one of the reasons Rajawongse had been so inspired in the first place -- a practically infinite amount of new materials, right there at his fingertips, who wouldn’t? But phrasing it that way would also sell the Renegade clothier short. He was a master of his craft even without his power. Rajawongse had created dresses that were identical down to the tiniest stitch. With them, the only way to identify which Fate was which was their distinctive manner of speech.
      “Maybe it’s the room that needs to change, not us,” Clotho said.
      “Sure,” Lachesis said.
      “But that doesn’t change the fact we need to figure out what we’re doing right now,” Atropos said. She was also identifiable by the butterfly knife she carried with her, a helpful outlet for not just her power, but idle hands in general. The swish-clack sound of its handles seemed to punctuate everything that particular Fate said, and frequently some of her sisters’.
      They settled on one of their standard formations -- Lachesis lounging on the throne flanked on either by her two sisters -- just as three of their underlings entered the room. Vi, Sibyl, and Demiurge were their names. The Fates gave them some time to get situated and even offered them some fruit in case they hadn’t eaten breakfast yet. It was still early in the morning, after all. It also gave them an excuse to get everyone up to speed on the previous night's events, the prophecy, the riots, everything.
      “The Stadium isn’t our territory, though it’s close enough that it might as well be,” Lachesis said.
      “And we’re going to have to deal with the smashed windows that are in our territory. Some of our people are already on it.”
      “It won’t be finished until later, though. Right now, G3 --”
      “-- The Generic Good Guys --”
      “-- The Group of Giant Goobers --”
      “-- is going to be pushing us for some kind of temporary truce until they can get their act together, and we don’t have any reason not to accept.”
      “But we also have reason to believe the Gibbons aren’t going to take the deal,” Lachesis said. “There are a couple of reasons for that. The first is that, like, it’s Gibbons. There’s no way Caesar” -- she pronounced it “ˈsi zər” -- “is going to let a land grab opportunity slip through his fingers, no matter how bad of an opportunity it is.”
      “That’s what happens when most of your territory is crap,” Atropos said. Swish. Clack. “Even when you have the most of any gang in all of Skitty.”
      “So it’s in character for him,” Clotho said. “But perhaps more damningly, he laid out his plans this morning while Worm still had one of his walls bugged, and later we hear some Gibbons capes are on the way to our territory. So we just- we know it’s going to happen. ”
      “Sorry to bury the lede like that.”
      “Our people cleaning up Nola Street already know this,” Clotho said. “There are some pretty hefty capes helping out there, both ours and otherwise, and DEUS is still in the area for at least a little bit longer.”
      “We’ll fight too if we goddamn have to.” The swish-clack of Atropos’ knife was especially forceful that time.
      “The point is, there’s a little time before anything goes down. There are still a few preparations to make, though. More thorough battle plans, making sure complementary powers are together, that sort of thing. Your job this morning is to keep Caesar distracted, and the way we’d like you to do it is to wreck some of his shit first.”
      “The target is a warehouse eleven point five nine kilometers that way.” Lachesis pointed in a direction she knew to be Northeast. This was her showing off her Thinker power and she relished the opportunity. “Pretty close to The Shimmer without getting up and personal with it, about as far as possible away from what’s going to be happening here.”
      “We think it’s a lab for a Tinker on Caesar’s payroll, which means it’ll have a skeleton crew of just that one Tinker and an assistant or two.”
      “The point is to get them calling for help. We’re not killing them or anything. Just roughing them up a bit to get Caesar’s attention, you know?” Clotho winked. “Of course, if they do go running to the hills leaving a trove of Tinker tech behind, you might as well take any of the interesting shit, right?”
      “At the same time,” Lachesis was quick to add, “if help does show up, that’s your cue to get out of there. Remember The Stanley Principle. You’re not invincible no matter how far ahead you might seem.”
      The Fates finally went silent as the invocation of that nearly-sacred rule brought a little extra weight to the proceedings. Both Clotho and Atropos shifted uncomfortably where they stood, and Lachesis had to stop lounging and actually sit in her chair. “Oh, that was a lot, wasn’t it?” Clotho eventually said. “Sorry about that.”
      “Anyway, the actual meat and potatoes planning of this mission, that’s up to you,” Atropos said.
      “We’ve given you the place and the goal, kinda want to just see what you come up with,” Lachesis said. “Call it a test, you know? Show us what you can do.”
  • Recently Browsing   0 members

    No registered users viewing this page.

  • Create New...