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Engine of Destruction; Phase 5 Group 3
Topic Started: Jan 11 2018, 01:10 AM (4,099 Views)
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Stay the course.

War. It was a bloody, brutal thing, but the battles that Fiore had fought up until this point were nothing compared to the coming battle.

Days ago, a message was put up by the Grand General of the Knights of Fiore, Arabelle Kitanova.

"The Eisenstadt". It's the name of a newly developed massive, mobile fortress recently created by the Boscans. Carved out of one of Bosco's own mountains and constructed with highly advanced machinery, this gigantic, earth and steel-covered war machine acts as a dangerous multi-purpose engine of destruction.

Its primary function is to serve as a massive mobile fortress, capable of carrying a veritable army within itself. Not only this, it also houses its own factory, where smaller armored mobile craft can be assembled and deployed. The result is a fortress capable of appearing and staging an invasion virtually anywhere. Imagine such a weapon appearing on Fioran soil.

Recently, our Scouts have reported this fortress has temporarily halted its advance towards us in order to gather resources before it deploys against us. This is our opportunity to destroy the vessel while we can. However, this will by no means be an easy feat. The Boscans will be expecting us, and the Eisenstadt is indeed a fortress, armed to the death with an army of its own. However, we must do everything within our power to destroy it while it is still immobile, for the threat it poses to Fiore is enormous. This battle will be like nothing the world has seen thus far."- Arabella Kitanova, Grand General of the Knights of Fiore

The Eisenstadt needed to be destroyed at all costs, but this would not be an easy feat. The Boscans were heavily entrenched, and the fortress itself was heavily armed, armored, and full of battle-hardened and elite soldiers. The only way to break through was for Fiore to throw its might against Bosco. As a result, a fighting force the likes of which hadn't been seen since the Rune Wars of old was assembled. Tens of thousands strong, traveling on foot, horseback, commandeered or reverse-engineered Boscan craft, and other such means moved forward. But it was the airships, Fiore's pride and joy in this war, that were the the real centerpiece.

Fiore hadn't brought just one airship for this battle. No, not even two. In this pivotal battle, Fiore brought forth three. The Marigold, the Orchid, and the Heliotrope, each among the largest, most armed, and armored airships Fiore had ever fielded, cruised towards the site of what was guaranteed to be a world-changing battle. But, equally as notable as the airships themselves were the people aboard them, but also the people on the ground.

This was perhaps Fiore's most elite battlefield force. Famous knights were gathered for this fight, alongside some of the most capable mages that the country had seen, most of whom were veterans to this new style of all-out war against the Boscans. Fiore had even employed the likes of Guild Masters in this fight. Varg Cerberus stood with other mages and soldiers on the ground. Vile Strudam stood atop the Heliotrope, watching the horizon as dawn slowly approached. Meanwhile, Isaac Technus tinkered in the depths of the Marigold, clearly plotting something eccentric and unusual. Fiore even brought their most notorious Knight, the General known as Rance Gallagher, to this battle knowing that, as much of an embarassment as he was, his strength was truly needed for the coming fight.

Dawn was not far from now. The moment the sun rose over the fields of Bosco the battle would commence. Time was of the essence now. If anyone had any last minute preparations, prayers, or anything, now would be the time.

  • Dawn is approaching.
  • Position yourself anywhere on the Fioran side of the battlefield. You can be on any of the airships, in a vehicle, on foot, on a horse, etc.
  • Perform your last minute battle preparations.
  • A mod post will be done about once a week.
  • You can post as many times as you want between each mod post.
  • Good luck.
  • Please include a summary of your character actions at the bottom of your post.
Edited by Mazohyst, Jan 11 2018, 03:04 AM.
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Steel your mind. Run on instinct.
The call for action would be made as soon as the sun rose above the horizon of the Boscan fields. With it would come the signal to begin a fierce battle between the Boscan and Fioran forces which covered the land. The battle cries of men and women alike would mingle with the neighing of their horses and the whirring of the machinery that stretched from the front lines to the rear guard; bloodlust would consume the eyes of both sides, their call for death stark and relentless as they would fight.

Such a morbid truth was undeniable.

Ecclair took the time to steel her mind before battle as she sat atop of her prized war mount Palla. The beautiful blue of the Bellumese woman’s eyes no longer resembled the sparkling of pristine water, nor the gentle calmness of a summer sky as they gazed forward. No, they brought to mind the frozen touch of shimmering ice instead as they surveyed the massive mechanical fortress in the distance.

Breaking the silence which she had been sitting in, she spoke to her partner and best friend Aiden. He sat beside her, his own war mount beneath him. “We will ensure this strikes a wound from which they cannot recover.” Fiore would not get another opportunity such as the one before them - they had to make it count. Ecclair herself would hold nothing back. She would fight as though the nation of Fiore was her own, and she knew the same level of determination ran through the veins of the knight beside her.

A quick glance to the knights that’d taken formation around the pair of Sergeants revealed several new faces, many of them failing miserably to hide the absolute terror which caused their knees and hands to quake. “Steel your mind.” She said, her tone commanding and confident, yet strangely soothing and powerfully invigorating at the same time.

They needed to be reminded that they were not charging head first into battle with the intent to die. “The object of war is not to die for your country; it is to make the enemy die for theirs.” Ecclair paused as her eyes surveyed the faces around her momentarily. “But remember this; we do not fight because we hate that which is in front of us. We fight because we love that which is behind us.”

Those who fought to protect were truly the most fearsome warriors of all.

  • Aiden and Ecclair at the center of the frontline on their mounts [feel free to have your knights be part of their unit if you wish]
  • Ecclair speaks to Aiden before turning her attention to the knights and giving a pep-talk of sorts [nameless fodder AND your knight characters if you wish them to be there]

Edited by Lightning, Jan 12 2018, 02:40 AM.
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^ Mood.

In just a few minutes time, the sun would trek wearily once more across the azure skies, and with its herald would march an army of grand proportions upon the Iron Mountain. The jaded, the naive, the honorable, the criminal; the disciplined formations of Infantry and Cavalry, the thousands of artillery batteries as they prepared to orchestrate their symphony of howitzers, and the Fioran vessels that dominated the sky above. Not even that initial assault on Kaspar Pass could compare to the forces that the Fioran Kingdom wielded on this auspicious day.

And yet entrenched within the Fortress's shadow was the reality of what they would face.

Batteries of howitzers and tank divisions, poised to repulse an attack. Earthen entrenchments and concrete pillboxes, reinforced with barbed wire. Countless machine guns and mortars, manned by veteran crews. Cannons the size of houses, their shells filled with mustard gas. This was the reality of what they now faced. There were a few among the Knights and Mages assembled here that still thought that war was like Septus with his sword, like David with the sling. But others more knew better. That this war was the conflict of the smoke stack—a combat of the driving wheel and engine, of splintered steel and toxic chemicals in melted lungs. The vast majority of the troops raring for this all out assault were old hands in the profession of war; blooded in the initial campaign and forged through the fires of the battlefield. Not men, but thousands of tempered blades, all pointed at the Boscan menace.

Ruslan's truck continued with the rest of his comrades in the Dauntless, as great armored cars and horses alike moved side-by-side with their advancing ranks to the front lines. Looming above the clouds were the nucleus of the Fiorans' attempt at lightning warfare, an air wing of three armored aerial battlecruisers helmed by the finest of Fiore's Air Force. Reinforced with slabs of composite plate and armed with a litany of point-defense guns and artillery batteries, they were steel dragons poised to utterly bombard the enemy entrenchments and the fortress, while the ground forces advanced. But would it be enough?

"Haven't seen a force like this inna while." Another member of his unit, Vaike, fidgeted with his axe in the passenger seat as they continued to drive alongside the convoy. A warm-hearted shit-stirrer with a loose tongue and a casual manner to go about it, he was every bit to the corporal like what Hayden had been after being taken off the front. Yet even now, there was a characteristic solemnity about his remark this time, and the stone-faced visage under his helm betrayed his unease.

"Yeah," Ruslan replied, noncommittal. Truth be told, with every meter that drew closer to the front, the feeling of paradoxical resignation and determination grew ever stronger within his breast. The trench whistle within his pocket, the pendant that he carried as a memento; the weight of those items grew ever more pronounced as the truck ground to a halt. They had reached the front.

The two soldiers alighted alongside a host of armor-clad knights, RVing with the rest of the vanguard behind their commanding officers. Ecclair and Palla, Aiden and Gallant; the unflappable DV Duo's reputation had certainly preceded them. First to fight, last to retreat. As unfaltering upholders of the Vanguard's tenets, the spearhead on the ground would no doubt begin with their charge. The very thought of that made him shudder somewhat.

We do not fight because we hate that which is in front of us. We fight because we love that which is behind us. Indeed, the reason why they had waged this seemingly risky attack was not ostensibly part of the Fioran Expeditionary Force's attack on Bosco after the latter's assault in the First War. Rather, it was a means of preventing their country from being ravaged once more. Truly, this battle more than ever was one for hearth and home.

No sooner had the sergeant finished her remarks did the corporal answer thusly.

"For Hearth and Home."


-Insert war fluff here.
-Ruslan rendezvouses with Aiden and Ecclair.
-For hearth and home.
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Crème de la Kremlin

The air was stale with anticipation for the coming battle. The bloodshed, the destruction, the horror. Surely it would be carved into the stone of history, forever to be remembered as the battle that changed history. Failure meant a Boscan occupation of Fiore, a second invasion that would surely leave the kingdom in shambles. Victory meant they had done the impossible, and halted the unstoppable Boscan war machine. Some would find courage in the face of defeat, others would find nothing but fear. But the the brave man and the coward ultimately faced the same fate, death. The difference was how they were remembered in the tales told. Would they find themselves in the throne of heroes? Or perhaps they'd find nothing so grand. Perhaps the only thing waiting the fallen was an anonymous grave, and a tale never told. Whatever the case, the possibilities were captivating, invigorating, a energy shot for the young Caelan.

This was not his country, these were no his people, so why did he fight? The answer was disturbingly simple, because he could. The thrill of battle, the clash of wills, the unrelenting march of war. It was all so captivating. On the battlefield there was no room for lies, no room for deception. Only truth, only reality. The call to arms had come, so naturally the warrior had leaped at the opportunity. The chance at glory was too irresistible.

Actaeon gazed skyward, amazed with the massive warships that glided through the air so effortlessly. He envied those aboard the great airships, wishing very much to experience the heavens along with them. But he was content on the ground, marching alongside his fellow soldiers.

He laid atop the metal truck below him, gazing lazily to his sides in order to study his comrades. He recognized some, the pink and blue pair of the fabled dauntless vanguard. The valkyrie herself rode next to them, a legend in their midsts. She sat atop her steed poised and ready, a calming presence to the more uppity members of their party.

She spoke to her partner, breaking the rather boring silence of their advance. Actaeon listened in, not bothering to grant them their privacy. She interested him, she had since he had come to Fiore. She was like him, a foreigner fighting in an army that was not hers. They were the same, and Actaeon wanted to know her story. To know her motivations. He had heard many things but seen very little. Hopefully she lived up to her own legend, a true hero for Fiore to idolize. So far she'd done a good job. Her composure, her ability to inspire, it was all true to the fables. Steel your mind interesting concept, instructions easily given but rarely obeyed.

We fight because we love that which is behind us

With that Actaeon smirked, his eagerness to enter battle only growing as he hopped up to his feet in one fluid motion, standing proudly atop the truck as it rolled towards glory. "Well said, Missy" He said with folded arms, his hazel eyes focussed on the valkyrie. "But there is no shame in hating the enemy, after all, they hate us too" He asserted cooly with a confident smirk. He let his gaze linger, curious as to how she'd respond to his little test. "I wonder, Valkyrie; how can one such as yourself find inspiration while fighting another lands war?" He lowered his voice some, not wishing for their exchange to distract from the battle. Only those within a few meters would hear all the Comet had to say.

He stood balanced atop the truck waiting for her answer, eyes ablaze with excitement as he maintained eye contact with her. He was not trying to undercut her leadership, or shake his foundations, but rather see things from her point of view. As he was in the same shoes as her he wanted to hear her reasoning, to understand what drove the Valkyrie. He knew why he fought, but that didn't mean there was no wisdom to be found in the reasoning of others.

Edited by Potato, Jan 12 2018, 05:23 AM.
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As he stood against the railing of the Heliotrope watching the horizon, Wave was lost in prayer. “Please forgive me for what I must do…Guide the fallen souls up into your domain.” He muttered quietly still staring off into the distant. “I have had no quarrel with them until they sought to bring harm upon my homeland. I must do what I feel is right, even if that means ending their life.” Wave spoke with sincerity hanging on to every word of his prayer.

Continuing to send up his prayers he took a long draw of breath and exhaled slowly, before continuing his prayer. “Watch over all of the Fioran troops and grace us all with your protection as we head into war.” As he finished his prayers Wave set his gaze upward into the clouded sky. He wasn’t sure about what was going to be thrown his way in the next several minutes, but this was his way of casting out all doubts he had about the war.

While there was still a bit more time left to get prepared for battle, Wave took the opportunity of working on his swordsman ship skills. He moved to a more secluded part of the deck. Where none of the Heliotrope crew would run into him, while he trained a bit more.

Wave unsheathed his katana and began to take various stances. He slid his right foot back a few inches while placing his left foot forward. Raising his blade to the right and slightly above his head. While most would look for the lunge, Wave lowered his body and spun on the bottom of his left foot, swinging the blade in a sweeping motion. He pulled his blade back as it would have met with some supply crates that were tied down to the deck.

He continued working on his footwork and slicing motions, this was the best way he found that would focus him on the task at hand. Wave took a seat upon the supply crates and began to clean and sharpen his blade while he waited for the battle to commence.

Post Summary
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Stay the course.

Many would die in this battle. Only this was guaranteed, for ten spears go to battle and nine shatter. But, war does not forge the one that remains. All it does is identify the spear that will not break. Here, on these hallowed fields, where wisps of dawnlight slowly dried the morning dew, stood a spear that would not break.

Mounted atop the heavy frame of his well-muscled warhorse, the Sergeant sat, waiting for the approaching battle. Gallant stood as patiently as its rider, their eyes filled with stoic discipline and a sense of duty. The Boscan War had been a long, bloody campaign, one which had challenged the Sergeant's body and sense of morals. For each enemy he slew, Aiden's ideals were tested. But now, staring at the visage of the massive Boscan Fortress Eisenstadt in the distance, Aiden knew he was here for a purpose. If the Eisenstadt was allowed to march onto Fioran soil, countless lives would be lost, and countless more would be slaves to Boscan oppression. This was enough for Aiden to march into battle, for Fiore was the country which had given him life, opportunity, and freedom. He had vowed to protect it just as much as any of his loved ones, for it was his sworn duty to protect those who could not protect themselves.

Aiden instictively touched Ragnell's hilt on his back. The weapon hummed to him, glowing softly with pale blue light. Its weight offered assurance, a reminder that Aiden was here for a righteous cause. As if Aiden needed more reinforcement, however, Ecclair spoke the same words that also existed at the front of his mind.

He gazed at his partner momentarily, nodding as she spoke, giving the woman a strong look of approval. The Sergeant's silence and look spoke volumes, offering more than anything he could say. Aiden trusted Ecclair completely. The two shared an unbreakable bond.

Ruslan, in an armored truck, arrived moments later to share in Ecclair's wisdom. Aiden was glad the soldier was here. Though Ruslan was his junior and subordinate, Aiden knew few others who shared Ruslan's wise practicality and skill in a clutch situation.

"I couldn't ask for stronger shields and sharper swords," Aiden said, setting his jaw and looking over the Dauntless Vanguard, Ruslan and Ecclair in particular. "It's good to have all of you here, brothers and sisters," the Sergeant continued. The Knight cared deeply about his unit. It broke his heart knowing that not all of them would return. As a young man, Aiden had already had to bury too many close friends. But that was war, and that was his burden to bear. For each failure, Aiden could only hope to rise a better man each time. He hoped that he was strong enough to protect them all this time.

A few moments later, a green-haired soldier, balanced atop a truck, exchanged words with Ecclair. Aiden said nothing, merely setting his jaw and glancing at the bold, younger man. Aiden left Ecclair to speak for herself, half-wondering if the Princess was going to chew him out. The Sergeant crossed his arms in slight amusement.

  • Aiden rides atop his horse Gallant beside Ecclair and Palla.
  • Aiden acknowledges Ruslan.
  • Aiden say a few words to his unit.
  • Aiden notices Actaeon speaking to Ecclair and waits to hear what the Princess says.
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Reya Starlyght
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Verba volant, scripta manent.

"Hey Camilla, are you going to be alright?"

Her comrade in arms sat on a horse next to Camilla, assortments of modified artillery attached to her person. They had been chosen, along with many others, to battle on top of mounts, at least for as long they could. Personally, she would have rather been manning a cannon from the sky, but alas, such was not her fate. The vanguard of the battle, such a wrong place for a sniper to be positioned. Nonetheless, she did as she had been told.

The Boscan glanced over at Semira, knowing that facing the hulking war machine, die Eisenstadt-the Iron City, before them could end in either, or both, of their deaths. Although it was a somber thought, for the slightest moment she smiled, patting the side of her gray horse Zacharias. At the very least, if she died in such a place it would be for an honorable intention. Sacrifice, though a dim and gloomful thought, was a necessity in war.

She was armored in nothing more than her standard uniform, her steed likewise not heavily fortified. The woman had been trained to battle upon an equine, but she had not suspected to ever do such. Then again, cavalry units seemed much more prominent in the armies of Fiore compared to their nemesis. Her sword was left within reaching distance, its leather sheath rubbing against the saddle the knight sat in. In case of need or a rough demounting, her pistols were located in their holsters on her belt, and her knife was tucked within her boot. Befangenheit, on the other hand, was switched to safety position, the rifle hooked to her horse's right side. A final check over her equipment was in order, before she urged Zäh onward to where her commanders were located, seemingly ignoring Sem's question.

No matter what actions Camilla would take that day, the sergeant's words of encouragement still set her heart ablaze. Each phrase was a shot at her identity, at the foe before Fiore. How could she accept the attitudes of those around her, when her thoughts were conveyed in the tongue of their enemy? The sniper had known that she would eventually end up on the front lines, repeating the same actions as she had in Bosco, murdering her own people. Why, then, did her soul mourn, her focus flee like a child's fright? The opponents she would meet on the battlefield were soldiers, stripped of their innocence. Camilla knew the truth though, of the horrors her nation would go to gain power. No doubt, there had been enlistment. She only begged that children hadn't been stolen from their beds.

There was a chance, an utterly slim one but still a chance, that she would meet her family. Perhaps, even, her brother. More than anyone, Friedrich was the one she couldn't bear to touch, to even glance at. Shame was a part of it, but at the same time it was nothing more than overwhelming sorrow. He had been consumed by the waters of dictatorship, transformed into a mindless killing machine. Beneath it, she knew that her beloved kin was just barely surviving. Was there a chance of rekindling his light? Camilla knew better than to hope for such when Bosco was still ruled with an iron fist.

She would fight for the innocent, the maltreated, the weak, the poor. Not for injustice, but for the righting of the world. For Fiore. For Bosco.

"Yeah, Sem. I know why I'm here."

  • Camilla is on the front lines, currently acting as light cavalry on her horse Zacharias (Zäh).
  • She reflects on Ecclair's words, and thinks about Bosco.
  • Bosco Bosco Bosco Bosco
  • Responds to comrade Semira.
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・。゜. ヘ(゜Д、゜)ノ

Some time in the future, Kaku's going to look back and ask without reserve why the two of them ended up on the mission involving fighting a bloody nether mountain. And then Rou's going to berate him on asking unnecessary questions that he already knew the answer to. But he'll keep doing it anyway, and Rou will keep enabling him, because sometimes the easiest method to accepting the inevitable male bovine excrement that is thrown their way to is question it in the open and then deal with it.

So all they have to do is deal with the mountain. And all the danger it stands for.

The air left frost sprinkling the rims of the airships, the crystalline patterns barely forming before being blown off altogether by the thrums and gusts. Neither Kaku nor Rou had ever ridden an airship despite having seen them in Acacia, seen them passing by on that one pretentious schooling place, seen them grounded in creation and preparation, seen them elsewhere indescribrable in the wake of another's dream. But here they were on it with other soldiers and warriors and hunters and mages and people ready to accept death for the sake of life. It was foolish. But it was a foolish endeavor they all were ready to accept.

They felt alone. They were definitely and defiantly not alone, but the war has lasted so long and will only continue to last. What more lay behind this weapon? How many more weapons would they have to withstand and destroy? Who even thought it was possible to avoid this confrontation in the first place, now that was perhaps the true question they shouldn't leave unanswered, but it was too late. Whatever schemes were occurring, it didn't seem to really matter when plunged into the thick of moss and mud. Moss and mud indeed, from the blood of the dead and dying. Kaku scoffed. His thoughts were taking a dramatic turn again. But seriously, they've even managed to step away from the war and return and it's still going strong. Shouldn't he be worried about that?

Where'd all these people even come from? Enlistment? A sense of responsibility? Pride? Definitely fear at one point, fear for the worst endin- Wait, he was wandering in words again. When the nethering hells did he start doing this? "Tell me a story, Rou." He blurted, his flippant but firm words carried away into the skies as the two of them were given their own space. Rou was laying around, actually laying in full size despite avoiding touching the ship with his entire mass. He kept most of his weight centered in himself as he partially levitated in a swirl around Kaku, who in turn was sitting surrounded by darkened teal and the shade of fins. In a womb of a whorl. "Tell me a story about a boy who could only watch."

"It started off," Rou indulged, a rumbling sound from him despite being cast out by magic through and through, "with a wish within a wish." It was a tale that never could be finished. He could hear the others on the same level of the Marigold muttering, praying, playing, breathing. He wondered when great people and creatures were able to mingle so casually when faced with an unbalanced scale. "Sometimes, the star dimmed." Rou shifted, the length of his body uncoiling and recoiling in measurements of meters. "Sometimes, it is alone instead."

It was enough. Kaku breathed, then stood. When he opened his eyes, they were his glaring normalcy again. They were both ready. Sheathed, armored, but ready all the same. He could hear and see some of the people notice them moving from their self-designated corner from the moment the airships had taken flight. Kaku smirked as he looked out. It really was a nice view up here, minus all the impending doom and tragedy. Shame he spent too long pre-emptively brooding, because now they were basically here.

・Kaku summoner, Rou summon.
・On Marigold.
・A whole lot of introspective fluff that literally doesn't matter to anyone else in the nonexistent vicinity.

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Steel your mind. Run on instinct.
An unfamiliar voice drew Ecclair’s gaze to the man who stood atop of the truck not far from her side. He had an equally unfamiliar face to the knight, but based on his positioning in their formation she guessed him to be a knight of Fiore like herself. He spoke of his thoughts on the words the Bellumese Princess had spoken; he posed her a question of his own.

“But there is no shame in hating the enemy, after all, they hate us too. I wonder, Valkyrie; how can one such as yourself find inspiration while fighting another lands war?"”

It was as though a reporter from her home land of Bellum had popped up out of the ground like an unwanted gopher.

Calm and dignified; she spoke her response. “Shame was not spoken of.” She'd merely stated that it was not the hatred within their hearts that should guide their actions on the battlefield. Ecclair chose not to assume his words referred to 'someone of her stature' and instead opted to reply as though he had meant her as a foreigner. “As for your question;” Her speech paused momentarily before continuing, her gaze returning to the front. “If the motivation you seek is not that which is behind you, then let it be that which surrounds you.”

It was for the people which had gathered upon those very fields that Ecclair stood in the face of death; it was for them and their ideals, their freedom, and their lives that she fought. Perhaps this man could find his own motivation within their eyes as well. Was not the plight of a nation wronged and its people devastated enough motivation to fight?

She would continue again after a few moments of pause, during which she had hoped the man would have utilised enough brain power to figure out what she had meant. “These people are no different than my nation's own, and I suspect, your own as well.”

Well, she supposed the fact that her two closest companions were Fiorans might have had something to do with it as well. I mean, wouldn’t you fight tooth and nail alongside them if someone came to try and fuck them up? To fight alongside your nakama was to fight the good fight.

  • Ecclair takes notice of Acteon who stands atop of the truck at their side
  • Ecclair responds to his words directed at her

Edited by Lightning, Jan 12 2018, 02:11 PM.
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Crème de la Kremlin

He listened intently, keeping the pink haired princess in his hazel gaze. He as captivated by her poise, the calm she showed in response to his challenge. She lived up to his expectations, never failing at her job. She was a pillar, one of the heroes people looked too for answers. When the battle waged on and Death graced the killing fields with his frigid presence, people looked to her for answers. Her composure, her expression, how she fought, all held great power over the everyday soldier. She was a hero, a legend, whether she wanted to be or not.

From the moment he had become a knight in his new country he'd heard tales of the Dauntless Vanguard. Their exploits were always the talk of Chrysanthemum and their heroics were well documented. The look in the eyes of those foolish enough to buy in to the legends. The twinkle of hope that brought light to even the grayest of places. It was dangerous. Making men more then what they were was dangerous, because when reality came knocking it would knock hard.

Actaeon had grown up believing in heroes. The grand tales his mother would spin had captivated the mind of a young boy. Stories of far off lands, of dragons and monsters, great mages and powerful warriors. Now he was standing face to face with more then a few legends, but the one most like him was Ecclair.

Her answer was brilliant. Perfectly worded, smoothly delivered, and befitting of the valkyrie. His smirk transformed into a grin, her words igniting the burning spirit that resided within the Caelan. His eyes lit up with delight as she past his test, a honest laugh escaped his lips.

"A wonderful answer! I should have expected no less from you, Missy" Actaeon smiled down at her, the glee with which he spoke somewhat out of place in the sea of sullen soldiers. "I apologize if I came off as rude. I simply wanted to see if you lived up to your name, Valkyrie of Bellum" He unfolded his arms and lowered himself onto the side of the truck. with his left hand he gripped the railing, with one foot planted firmly on the running board. With his other arm outstretched in greeting he was now leveled with Ecclair, his grin shrinking only slightly.

"I am Actaeon Kalkanis, son of Peleus- I look forward to fighting by your side, Valkyrie~" It was clear that he was excited, warmth and passion radiating from him as he held out his hand for her to take. "Should we meet again in victory or Elysium~ let us drink our fill and share stories from the battle!" He proclaimed enthusiastically, clearly looking forward to the promised occasion.

Things Done

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NSRP One Piece Explore Pokemon Godai TOGETHER WE FALL: A NON-CANON NARUTO RP FF:Adventure Scarlet Night Overtale, A Post-Pacifist Undertale RP Red Like RosesSengoku HorizonRorupurei
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