>>5385528
I managed to elude the creature, of course, with the art of subterfuge. My wounds, however, were open, exposed to the elements, and I had nearly lost consciousness. I was malms away from Trausburg, so my only recourse was to push forward with what little supplies I had. The simple potions I had brought were enough to keep me moving, but not enough to close the open wound.

I prayed to no God or Goddess, but only to an angel that would hear my plea. And of course, with all haste, it was answered. Cecilia had appeared.
__________

“What?” Ceci blinks. “I remember you yelling in pain as I was returning home from the capital.”

“I believe one would still call that a prayer or plea, my dear Ceci.” Bucklin responds, his grin pushing his cheeks ear to ear.

“I mean, yeah, but you’re making it sound like a scene out of a play.” She shakes her head. “You were quite literally on the ground, bleeding out onto the road. I couldn’t just leave you there.”

“I feel like most people would stop to help.” You interject.

“... You would be surprised.” Bucklin’s voice lowers.

“Huh?” The sharp change in tone concerns you. “Is something wrong, Bucklin?”

“No, not at all!” He claps his hands. “Shall I continue?”
__________

By the good will of the angel that had appeared, I was restored to full health. It was over the course of a few days, but I surely had never felt better. Waking up to that smiling face each morning was all the bliss one could ask for. Though, that also meant having to interact with the local lout. That being Stratos, of course.

From the day of our first meeting, he seemed to look at me with derision. It was almost as though he had a sixth sense for people who were more capable than he.
__________

“You called him annoying every time he came to check up on you.” Ceci leans forward. “I’m not sure that’s a ‘sixth sense’ as much as you were just being a right prick.”

“Hey, hey!” Bucklin protests. “This is my story, Ceci.”

“And I don’t want Lorelai getting the wrong idea about you two.” She crosses her arms.

“Fine,” the storyteller shrugs. “I’ll make some corrections.”

>>5385534
__________

The angel’s brother had decided to grace me with his presence. He would, indeed, infer about my condition, but there was something else at work. His eyes were blue slits of condemnation. It seemed as though he was blaming me for some invisible crime I had never performed. This was the first moment I had laid my eyes on him. The way he carried himself, the way he talked, it was an act. I knew deceit when I saw it.

I don’t believe it was a malevolent deceit, no, he didn’t mean any harm. It was more of a mask, a facade. He only asked about my well-being as a matter of course, because that’s what a knight, a noble, does. I am his house guest, after all. It would reflect badly if he was an awful host. I found the entire thing trifling, so I decided to verbalize my feelings. Perhaps a little too much, since those pensive looks he had loved giving me so much became a permanent fixture to his already scrunched face.

Our mutual dislike had already cemented itself. There was no reason to try and change it. We would merely deal with one another when we had to. No point in complicating the proceedings with our ‘feelings’ or ‘desires’.

Of course, this was itself a difficult task, considering I loved the presence of one sibling while loathing the other. After my recovery, I left Trausburg to continue my own daring adventure. I would hear whispers of growing tensions between the Canaan Empire and the Kingdom of Highwind. This was already a dozen or so months, over a year, after I had left my darling Ceci. We had kept in contact by writing letters to one another. Stratos would deen to include himself in the proceedings, writing the odd letter here and there. I received them, but never read them. I suppose I did appreciate the fact that he took time to write it at all.

I traveled back to Highwind with concern as my only companion. It was a month of traversing canyons, forests, and desert -- but I managed to return to the warmth of Trausburg. From then on, I made it a habit of returning whenever I had time or if my plans allowed it.
__________

>>5385535
“You’ve been pretty much everywhere, haven’t you?” Ceci says, frowning.

“Yes, I’ve been to most places on Aldaea.” Bucklin places his thumb under his chin. “Though, traveling through the Eastern Continent, however, is difficult. I’ve been as far as Doma’s border.” He mumbles. “No, I suppose that’s not entirely true. I’ve been inside Doma, but I didn’t see much. Maneuvering through the country is a slog in and of itself. The amount of bureaucracy alone is enough to make your head spin.”

“I’ve heard the stories. You basically need to have a permit just to breathe.” Ceci quirks a brow. “Is there actually any truth to that?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised, given my brief time there.” Bucklin cringes.

After absorbing what information you could from the beginning of Bucklin’s story, a few questions spring to mind.

>Ask about the Empire of Canaan and Highwind
>Ask more about his travels on the Eastern Continent
>Ask about his travels on Aldaea (Western Continent)
>Best to just let him continue at his own pace
>Write-in

>>5385536
>>Best to just let him continue at his own pace
This guy seems like he could go on an on without anyone telling him to stop, lets just let him keep talking.

>>5385536
>>Ask about the Empire of Canaan and Highwind

>>5385536
>>Ask about his travels on Aldaea (Western Continent)

>>5385536
>Best to just let him continue at his own pace
Feels like he's avoiding talking about antagonizing Stratos, but it's fine

>>5385536
>>Best to just let him continue at his own pace

>>5385536
>>Ask about the Empire of Canaan and Highwind

The OP image is weirdly off center lol

>>5385536
>Best to just let him continue at his own pace

>>5385536
>Ask about his travels on Aldaea (Western Continent)

>>5385536
Bucklin seemed like he was getting really into it. Interrupting his flow might not be the best idea. Well, it’s not like Ceci wasn’t already doing that. Regardless, best to keep your interruptions to a minimum and let Bucklin continue at his own pace.

“Now where was I…” Bucklin racks his brain, trying to find his rampant train of thought. “Ah, yes, I remember now.”
__________
Fearing what may happen to Highwind should I leave Ceci’s side, I decided to invite myself to stay for a few nights. I scoped out the town to the best my intuition would allow. Speaking to Ceci eluded me to the drought and famine in Canaan. Of course, this was knowledge that I had already possessed. I did hear down the grapevine that Highwind was offering what help that it could. And, it stands to reason that Canaan would want more than whatever Highwind itself could risk giving it. I’m no expert on national relations, but giving out more than what your country can actually afford was effectively suicide.

I decided to dig deeper. I wanted to venture forth and brave the deserts of Canaan by myself, but Ceci insisted that she come. And then, once word of my plans got back to Stratos, he insisted that he accompany us. While it irked me a bit, I was willing to deal with a little disdain if it meant having Ceci along. We went past Nestad and Algrove, closer and closer to Canaan’s border to see things for ourselves. Refugees from Canaan became more common. They spoke of the famine, the dead land, the dying crops. Disdain for Highwind for winning the war, leaving their nation destitute. With my fears realized, I spoke to Ceci and Stratos on the matter. They were in agreement that Highwind was doing all that it could. Of course, considering Canaan and Highwind’s history, I imagine that’s not all there is to the story. While I respect Ceci’s opinion, I do imagine some measure of bias. A constant of kings is that it’s far more likely for them to take than it is to give. While a bit perturbed, I pushed to continue the investigation.

That was until he showed up in a border village near Canaan. A man who fancies himself an outlaw, a vagrant. He once called himself Stratos’ friend, but now he’s a knight turned desperado. He went by the name of Genos Augur. He was a pleasant fellow, as far as I could see. Amiable enough to speak to, though bouts of showboating were frequent. I’m no stranger to the art myself, but I could easily deduce that Genos’ was still learning the art. He certainly had the knack for theater.

Stratos and Genos got caught up in one of their ‘arguments’ as Ceci put it. They apparently butt heads more than they actually conversate. While it was nice to watch the fireworks from the sidelines, we had more urgent matters to tend to. Violence had broken out amidst the townsfolk. Tension brewed between the citizens of Highwind and Canaan’s refugees.

>>5391543
Stratos didn’t exactly treat the situation with a deft hand. He had taken to a physical solution when a more measured approach was appropriate. Ceci took the lead as acting physician. The outbreak of violence was sudden. The violence escalated when Stratos rushed to Ceci’s aid and what started as self-defense quickly became an effort to control the situation. The townguard drew their swords once Stratos, a knight of Highwind, had gotten involved.

I pushed forward to quell the cacophony of steel and violence. I raised my hands, showing I was unarmed, screaming to the guards to lay down their weapons. Of course, I had no authority, so force must be met with force. The refugees had no armaments, I knew if the guards were allowed to proceed, it would be a massacre. I didn’t want to use Azuramancy against citizens of Highwind, let alone Ceci’s brother, but I saw no other avenue. In a flash of light, all went silent.

A dreadful prelude for what was to come.

A refugee had run himself into a guard’s drawn blade. It’s an image that plays over in my mind. I keep asking myself ‘What could I have done?’ No matter how hard I think on it, the only thing I can do is blame myself. It wasn’t just Stratos, it wasn’t just me, it was the situation at hand. It could’ve been worse, but the fact that even one life was lost is proof of my failure.
__________

You sit, taking in the contents of Bucklin’s tale. It was a lot, honestly. You expected a more happy ending, something with a little levity thrown in. Not a tragedy. “Was… that true, Ceci?”

“I can’t speak to Bucklin’s feelings on the matter, but yes, it’s true.” Ceci frowns.

Bucklin says nothing. His eyes loom on his open hands. Regret no doubt filling his mind.

>Comfort him. It’s not exactly his fault. The chaos would be too great for anyone to handle.
>Encourage him. While he may have had a hand in the events that played out, he can do better next time.
>It’s better to speak to Ceci than to Bucklin. Leave him alone to sort things out.
>Write-in

>>5391545
>>Comfort him. It’s not exactly his fault. The chaos would be too great for anyone to handle.

>>5391545
>>Comfort him. It’s not exactly his fault. The chaos would be too great for anyone to handle.

>>5391545
>>Comfort him. It’s not exactly his fault. The chaos would be too great for anyone to handle.

>>5391545
>>Comfort him. It’s not exactly his fault. The chaos would be too great for anyone to handle.

>>5391545
>>Comfort him. It’s not exactly his fault. The chaos would be too great for anyone to handle.

>>5391545
After listening to that story, there was a lot to think about. What did you say? What could you say? ‘It wasn’t your fault?’ No. That didn’t feel right. He would smile and take it in jest. The situation obviously wasn’t his fault. What happened was a tragedy, yes, you affirming that wouldn’t change anything. So, you did the only thing that came to mind.

You placed a hand on Bucklin’s shoulder.

“Lorelai?” He tenses, meeting your gaze. “Ah, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to--”

“It’s okay.” You pull him in for a hug.

Buckin sighs, raising his hands into the air. “Uh, Lorelai, I appreciate it, but…” He tries to weasel his way out of your grip. “This is a little embarrassing.”

It was your turn to jump. You quickly peel yourself off of Bucklin. “I’m sorry!”

Bucklin coughs into his hand. “It’s fine. Just not used to that sort of thing.” \

Ceci gets up from her seat, empty plate in hand. “If that’s all for now, I’m going to take my leave.” She smiles, giving you a nod. “It was nice to finally meet you.”

“Likewise, Ceci. You definitely lived up to expectations.”

“I’m glad.” She laughs.

“Oh, Ceci!” Bucklin raises a hand toward Ceci. “There was one more thing that I wanted to speak to you about.”

“One more?” She frowns. “Surely it can’t be that urgent if you didn’t open our conversation with it.” Ceci pivots toward Bucklin.

“I’d argue it’s more necessary than urgent.” Bucklin grins. “There’s no immediate danger, not that I know of, at the very least.”

“Hmm…” Ceci clicks her tongue, looking up toward the clock. “I’m supposed to meet Sir Garland in a few minutes.”

“Ah.” Bucklin scratches the back of his head. “So we’d be keeping you from an important meeting.”

“It’s…” She stops herself short. “I’m not sure if I can even tell you.”

Bucklin places a hand to his chin.

The two of you had talked to Garland before, though that was in regards to the sick prisoner.

>Urge Bucklin to say what he has to say. No point in wasting time.
>Ask Ceci if you and Bucklin can come along to the meeting.
>Push Ceci to go to the meeting. You and Bucklin can probably figure something else out.
>Write-in

>>5398001
>>Urge Bucklin to say what he has to say. No point in wasting time.
Just spit it, what's the hold up?

>>5398001
>Urge Bucklin to say what he has to say. No point in wasting time.

>>5398001
>>Urge Bucklin to say what he has to say. No point in wasting time

>>5398001
>>Urge Bucklin to say what he has to say. No point in wasting time.

>>5398001
>Urge Bucklin to say what he has to say. No point in wasting time

>>5398001
>Urge Bucklin to say what he has to say. No point in wasting time.

>>5398001
>>Ask Ceci if you and Bucklin can come along to the meeting.

File: numou1.jpg (53 KB, 800x571)

53 KB JPG

>>5398001
Wouldn’t it be better to discuss the matter quickly as opposed to not at all? “Bucklin,” you frown. “Say what you have to say.”

“What?” Bucklin turns to glance at you. “I don’t think there’s a need to.” He turns to Ceci. “If you’re going to meet Garland, then I don’t need to waste your time with my own explanation.”

“I see.” Ceci frowns. “Then by your leave.” She bows to Bucklin before waving to you. She grasps her empty plate in hand. She starts walking to the other side of the rec room. A large door sits slightly ajar, the hinges struggling to hold the frame up. Through the small crack you could hear the sound of clattering plates and the chatter of guardsmen. You were wondering what that door was used for, since you haven’t seen anyone go in and out of it. Good to know where the actual cafeteria was.

“I’ll take care of that.” Bucklin reaches out for Ceci’s empty plate.

“Oh, thank you.” She quirks her brow. “Are you sure? Do you even know how to wash dishes?”

“I was just going to give it to one of the dishwashers.” Bucklin blinks.

”Really?” Ceci narrows her eyes. “Then I should probably--”

“It’s what they’re paid for, Ceci.” Bucklin takes the plate. “Goodwill can easily be misconstrued. You have your job to do, and they have theirs.”

Ceci sighs in defeat. After one last glance at the clock, she goes on her way. As you watch her leave, you turn toward Bucklin. “You want her to hear about the prisoner from Garland?”

“It’s not that.” Bucklin says, walking toward the kitchen. “I’ve a tendency to drag things out a little too much sometimes. From what I know of Garland, he’s got a keen eye and a sharp mind. He could better explain the situation than I, especially if Stratos is involved.”

That makes sense. Bucklin did want to discuss the prisoner’s condition with Ceci. He felt he was just going to end up explaining something that Garland already was. It wasn’t worth it, especially if it meant keeping her from an important meeting. It was his own way of being considerate.

You open the door to the kitchen. The soft clicking porcelain fuses with the sound of rushing water. A furry figure in overalls stands over an open tub, palm clenched, as liquid assaults silverware. That was definitely a way to wash dishes.

“Hello, my good Nu Mou.” Bucklin approaches with his best attempt at a suave strut he could muster. “I’ve another plate that needs cleaning.”

“What?” The dog person tilts his head toward Bucklin, the lack of sleep apparent under his eyes. “Just toss it in.”

Long, fluffy ears. Short stature. They seemed similar to the moogles. While the urge to touch his ears was present, you relent.

File: quirby.png (207 KB, 439x634)

207 KB PNG

>>5402952
“Very well.” Bucklin dips the plate into the tub of soap water. “With that, we can go on our--” He stops short before staring into space. No, wait, not quite. He was looking behind you. Was there someone there?

“Hello!” A soft, albeit slurred, voice spurs you to turn around. You expected to see a person. Well, not a person, but something that could be defined as ‘humanoid’. What you were met with was… not that. Well, at a glance, there were hands and feet. It fits your idea of ‘humanoid’, but just barely. A wide, white visage and blank, seemingly soulless eyes. “You new staff? New cook, maybe?” The creature tilts its head, its tongue scratching its chin.

“N-no.” You take a step back toward Bucklin.

“Oh wow, a Qu this far out?” He whispers to himself, Low enough that no one but you can hear. “Interesting.”

A Qu? That’s probably another race the book didn’t tell you about. Regardless, the Qu holds out a tray. A plate of small meat cutlets, soft bread, and a cup of water? Wait, that doesn’t look like a meal a soldier would eat. Well, actually, it could be, if someone was on a strict diet. “Prisoner no eat. Good food go to waste. Me eat, maybe?” The Qu eyes the plate in its hand with a yearning glare.

Bucklin, unsure of how to approach the mumbling Qu, opts for a traditional greeting. “It’s nice to make your acquaintance. My name is Bucklin, and this is Lorelai. We’re not employees of the kitchen, we’re… acquaintances of some of the Highwind Knights stationed here.”

“Oh, okay.” The Qu nods and immediately ignores Bucklin, preferring the company of food rather than conversation.

“How is the prisoner doing?” He tries again to start a rapport.

“Prisoner very loud, very mean. Try to eat me.” The Qu’s shoulders slack. “But prisoner thin. No meat, no bones. Not even good for broth.”

Was the Qu thinking about eating him? A chill runs down your spine. “I… see.” Bucklin coughs into his hand.

“What’s your name?” You speak up, despite your trepidation.

“Name?” The Qu considers the question. “Quirby. Quirby Quan.” They nod emphatically.

“Quirby? That’s a nice name.” You push your cheeks apart for a smile.

“Hm hm.” Quirby circles around you. “Hair is good color. Very red. Small stature. Fit in cauldron fine.”

“I’m not food.” You snap, staring at him. It was frustrating enough with the chocobos.

“Oh, okay. Me sorry. Me not eat without consent.”

“In any case,” Bucklin sighs. “We can try feeding the prisoner for you, if you’d like.”

“Really? Prisoner no eat for Quirby, why prisoner eat for you?”

“It’s not a matter of who, my friend, but of what. Perhaps the prisoner prefers more fine dining. Did you prepare this dish?”

“Me not make.” Quirby shakes their head. “Other chef make.”

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>>5402955
Interlude: Looming Shadow

Living darkness in a world of light.

The flickering of torchlight beckons the night. Nestad’s roads are silent. Men in armor stand at attention every block, watching the stone streets in a silent vigil. They stand stalwart, alert without even knowing what it is they’re looking for. No leads, no evidence pointing to a culprit. Rumors have spread across the cityscape over the last month. With no resolution in sight, no news, people were left to wander. Was it a monster? A person? Only the true culprit knew.

Its steps make no sound, its form casts no shadow.

Nestad’s natural walls mark the boundary between civilization and the wilds beyond it. The Pluria Wood sits just out of the reach of the mountainous barricade. Monsters never venture too far out of the forest. They eat and graze, but they’re never known for their aggression. They stick to themselves, to the shadows, never venturing further than their instincts would allow.

An entity forged in contradiction.

If it’s not a beast, then it must be at the hands of man. Magics exist to hide one’s presence, to switch places with others. There exist powerful spells that allow one to even warp the very fabric of space itself. It’s impossible to only consider one answer. People go missing in the dead of night with nothing to tell the tale.

A vestige of the dark, looming ever closer to its prey.
__________
A torch’s flame flickers. The guard outside of the checkpoint watchtower looks up, tipping his visor up. “You see that?”

“No, Biggs.” The guard next to him yawns, his back turned to his partner. “I don’t.”

“You weren’t even looking.” He sighs, still eying the swaying torch. The flame flickers again, almost as if blown by a soft breeze. “What is going on?”

Darkness falls.

“What the…?” Biggs mumbles to himself. A chill runs through his armor. “I’m… going to go get the Commandant.”

“Because a lamp flickered out?” The other guard yawns. “I heard he’s in an important meeting. I wouldn’t bother him with something like this.”

“I mean…”

“It’s not the first time it’s happened, and it’s not gonna be the last. Just get up there and light it again.”

Biggs frowns. Something about it didn’t feel right, but his friend was right. This wasn’t the first time it had happened, especially within the week. Though, wouldn’t someone think that was odd? Even after replacing the lamp head, they would still flicker out. Either they were faulty, or… something else was at work.

The beast stalks within shadow, deft as a thief in the night.

>>5402967
Biggs opens the door to the watchtower. As he does, another breeze passes him by. “It’s not getting this cold already, is it?” He rubs his arms to combat as he makes his way toward the closet. “He’s right.” He tries to quell his worry, focusing on the task at hand. “It’s… probably nothing.”

After finding the matches inside, he returns to his post to relight the lantern. He climbs the post, lights the lantern, and leaps back to the ground.

“See?” His friend walks over, patting Biggs on the shoulder. “I told you it was nothing to--”

The light flickers out, and they are cast into the dark once again.

Interlude End
__________

Location: Nestad Citywatch, Dungeon

“Watch your step.” Bucklin says, holding the tray above his head. .

“Take your own advice.” You tread carefully behind him, making sure to catch the tray when he inevitably falls. “Are you sure you don’t want me to take it?”

“No no, I offered, so it’s my responsibility.”

You roll your eyes, pulling your cloak over your shoulders. “If you say so.” All you had to do was make sure that Bucklin didn’t drop the tray. Well, arguably, that would be the easy part. The difficult portion comes with getting the prisoner to actually eat it. “Hey, Bucklin.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think he’ll actually eat it? The prisoner, I mean.”

“No.” Bucklin says as a matter of course. “Not at all.”

“Then why did--”

“It doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try, however.” He turns toward you, probably grinning. It was hard to see with the lack of light. “Right?”

“That’s… right.” You smile back, hoping he can see it.

Bucklin steps onto the ground, brandishing the tray to you. “See? Not a morsel out of place.”

“Can’t really see what you’re showing me.”

“Oh, right, you can’t see in the dark. Sorry.”

“You can?”

“Yes. Think of it as a perk of being a Blue Mage.” He stops, setting the food down on the floor.

“Bucklin?”

“You hear that?”

“Huh?” You look around. You didn’t see anything. Well, of course you couldn’t, with no light. What torches were lit didn’t elude you to anything either. You didn’t hear anything either.

Wait.

You didn’t hear anything.

Bucklin dashes toward the cell. You follow closely behind.

“You’re kidding me…” Bucklin freezes.

“What?” You turn.

Snarling.

Red drips to the ground into a pool. An ethereal outline carved out by blood.

Two legs? No, four.

Two red lights illuminate its form. No, they’re not torches. Those red orbs are… eyes.

'Its' maw opens.

“Lorelai! RUN!” Bucklin shouts.

You look between the shadow behind the bars and Bucklin.

“RUN!” He screams.

Your body tenses up.

>Take Bucklin’s advice. Run.
>You’re not running. You’ll stay.
>Take Bucklin and run. He’s not staying.
>Write-in

>>5402952
YOOOOOO
>>5402969
>Take Bucklin and run. He’s not staying.
Eight Strenght don't fail us now

>>5402969
>>Take Bucklin and run. He’s not staying.

>>5402969
>Take Bucklin and run. He’s not staying.

>>5402969
>Blizzard
We don't need to hurt it, nor to stop it.

Outlining its form in frost will do plenty.

>>5404102
Supporting

>>5402969
>Take Bucklin and run. He’s not staying.

>>5404102
+1

>>5404102
Supporting

>>5402969
No time to think. You grab Bucklin’s hand and raise your other up toward the prison bars.

“What are you doing!?” Bucklin cries out.

“I’m not leaving you down here with that thing! We’re going!”

Flakes of ice blast out in an erratic spray. You weren’t well-versed in its use. It was a spur of the moment decision, but hopefully it was enough to deter the shadow.
It didn’t move. It didn’t react to your use of magic, or even register the fact you had cast it. It stares before showing its bloodied maw. It leaps out from the bars, dashing straight for you.

The ice did nothing. It passed through it as easily as it did the bars. It closes the distance.

You run as fast as you can up the stairs. You don’t look back.

The lantern light from before was gone. Something had snuffed out the flames.

No time to worry. Just run.

Run. Keep running.

Don’t look back.

Your heart throbs in your ears. The door was just a few more steps. You couldn’t see, yet you kept running.

…

A mouth of splintered shadow appears in front of you. A red piercing gaze.

“Huh?”

It was behind you. It was running up the stairs after you. Then, when did it appear in front of you?

“Lorelai!” Bucklin wrenches himself free and leaps in front of you. A spherical shadow bursts forth, straight from his mouth.

The world turns white.

Your ears ring.

You fly through the air. Were you thrown? No, that didn’t seem right. You would’ve hit the ground by now.

Then what was that?

“Agh.” A voice rouses you from your wandering thoughts. That was Bucklin, wasn’t it?

He stands above you, cradling you in his arms.The two of you stand at the bottom of the dungeon’s stairwell. “What? How?”

“Float.” Bucklin says, showing the gem inside of his staff.

“Right.” You nod, standing up.

You freeze.

It was the same feeling you had when you met its eyes behind bars.

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>>5408117
You unsheathe your sword, holding it in two hands.

“Oh boy.” Bucklin stands at the ready, holding his staff high. “Not sure how well a sword will do, considering our little friend here is more of a ghost than anything.”

The living darkness leaps forward.

You and Bucklin leap out of the way as its form seems to vanish.

INITIATING COMBAT MODE…!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v7AnGivXMWQ

Initiative:
Bucklin
Lorelai
Shadow Beast
_____

Status
Lorelai (Front):
HP: 100%
MP: 100%
Bucklin (Back):
HP: 100%
MP: 100%
_____

Shadow Beast
HP: 100%
_____
In the interest of saving space, I’ll be utilizing the images on the side for combat options. Basic choices below are universal for every character.
>Attack (Attack with basic weapon.)
>Defend/Row (Option to defend against the next attack dealt. Can also be used in conjunction with the ability to switch row from front to back and vice versa)
>Unique (Special abilities of the character listed, who you want it to target, etc.)
>Maneuver (Perform a special maneuver not listed as an option here.)
>Item (Use item)
>Flee (Self-explanatory)

>>5408122
>>Unique (Special abilities of the character listed, who you want it to target, etc.)
>Spellblade
Is it too convenient to just learn dark/light element on the spot?

>>5408122
So it's a ghost in the sense that even magic doesn't work. We either see if cure works on it, or if we can invent a flashlight spell to blind it.

In the same vein, Bucklin has whistle or nut bomb to probe what kind of stimuli it reacts to.

>>5408122
>Unique (Special abilities of the character listed, who you want it to target, etc.)
Thunder

>>5408122
>>Defend

>>5408122
>Defend

>>5408122
>Unique (Special abilities of the character listed, who you want it to target, etc.)
>Spellblade

>>5409852
+1

>>5408122
Oh, you guys need to specify what spell you want to use with Spellblade out of the list of available magic that Lorelai has. Will make that more evident in the future.

Also, you do have control of Bucklin in this instance here, hence why the spells are listed up there.

>>5408122
>>5410658
Oh damn, well here it goes.
>Thunder
>Unique (Nut Bomb.)

>>5410894
Supporting

>>5410894
supporting

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317 KB PNG

>>5408122
No other choice but to fight it. Just from seeing what the monster was already capable of, it was like fighting a ghost. A wraith composed of darkness. Electricity sparks from the hilt of your sword to the tip. You take one step forward, ready to swing, but Bucklin thrusts himself in front of you. “Bucklin?”

“A moment!” He says, holding his arms out toward the shadow. His throat bulges outward. His veins pulse with prismatic light. Arcane energies coalesce from his open mouth. It quickly solidifies into the shape of a massive… acorn?

Suddenly, a piercing light.

You turn away, plugging the ear facing the explosion.

“Bucklin?” You grip your sword, expecting to see a grim sight. However, your expectations are betrayed.

Splayed out before you is Bucklin and the showed beast, its body twitching ever so slightly. It looks just a little different than it did a second ago.

“Strike… it.” Bucklin murmurs from his self-imposed paralysis.

You nod, leaping over Bucklin, lightning infused sword overhead.

Thundering steel rips into the beast’s corporeal flesh with a violent crackle. The electricity ripples outward, crawling along the ground before sparking against the cell’s bars. The shadow grits its teeth, leaping to the farside of the dungeon. Its maw sits open, dripping liquid shadow. Its body shakes from the combined might of Bucklin’s bomb and your magical blade.

You breathe in, raising your sword for round two.
_____
>Initiative:
Bucklin (Stunned, attempting to recover…)
Lorelai
Shadow Beast (Stunned, attempting to recover…)
_____

>Status
>Lorelai (Front):
HP: 100%
MP: 80%
>MP -20% due to Spellblade (Thunder)

>Bucklin (Back):
HP: 100%
MP: 100%
_____
Shadow Beast
HP: 75%
>-25% HP damage due to Spellblade (Thunder)
_____
>COMBAT CHOICES
Lorelai
>Attack / Spellblade (Choose spell) / Defend / Position / Maneuver / Item / Escape
Bucklin
>Attack / Blu Magic (Choose spell) / Defend / Position / Maneuver / Item / Escape
---Choosing an action while an ally is under the effect of a status condition will automatically perform the action if they recover from it during that round.

>>5415478
>Attack
>Screwdriver

>>5415478
Update to the Status:
>Bucklin (Back)
HP: 100%
MP: 75%
>-25% due to the use of Nut Bomb

>>5415478
>attack
>screwdriver

>>5415478
Keep swinging
>Attack
>Screwdriver

>>5415478
>>5415487 +1

>>5415478
>>Attack
>>Screwdriver

>>5416786
Quest is still alive - been going through some more shit recently. Post is half-finished, will get to finishing it when my head is screwed on right. Post will be up by the end of Thursday at the latest.

>>5424701
s'cool, hope all goes well

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188 KB JPG

>>5415478
The shadow beast couldn’t act. It was still reeling from the coordinated attack. Don’t let up. Keep pushing the offense! You run forward, blade still sparking with latent magic. Lighting cleaves through the encroaching darkness.

Liquid shadow and blood cling to your heated steel.

Though, blood? You found that strange. It made sense to you that it was a ‘solid’ shadow, but what you were lost on was the blood. Your eyes turn toward the cell.

Quirby said the prisoner was rowdy. With the deafening silence of shadow, there was only one conclusion.

That blood wasn’t the shadows. It belonged to its most recent feast.

“Tch!” You scoff.

“Lorelai! Move!” Bucklin calls out from behind you.

“You can move!”

“Of course! Takes more than that to keep me down!” Green, whirling winds build up in Bucklin’s open palms. His hands are outstretched, his fingers touching, making a square. ”SCREWDRIVER!” A violent torrent of wind shakes the ground. It flies forward, spinning into a violent vacuum.

The beast tries to dodge, but its legs jerk in opposite directions. It tries to meld into the shadows, but it’s too late.

It stares on. No fear from what seems to be the imminent end.

…

The end never comes.

A crescent of silver splits the spiraling torrent in two. The air swirls around, dispersing outward from the impact. A brown cloak billows in the wind, covering the beast’s form as it sinks into the figure’s shadow.

Why did they protect the carnivorous shadow? Was it a pet, a ‘familiar’ of some sort? If that was the case, then surely this figure was responsible for this.

The armored assailant turns toward you, chains clinking. The head of their silver scythe dips into the ground as they relax their posture.

No, wait, they weren’t turning toward you.

“So, this is where you were, Durancap?” The distorted voice of disdain. A cooling chill runs down your back. “I thought you better than to seek succor with Highwind.”

Durancap? They know him? “Bucklin?” You speak to Bucklin, but you don’t dare take your eyes off of the armored knight. It felt like one slip up and that was it.

“What I do is none of your business.” He shrugs. “Though, if I didn’t know any better, I’d assume you were a bit of a stalker.” He plays off the severity with a chuckle.

There was history between the two, and even if it wasn’t obvious, there was tension. It might be better to make the first move, but… it was a hard decision to make. In the end, you…

>Push for the offensive. Whatever the case, they killed an ill man.
>Better not to fight. While it pains you, it’s best to just let things be.
>Write-in

>>5427930
>Better not to fight. While it pains you, it’s best to just let things be.
You're not a warrior yet, my good friend

>>5427930
>>Push for the offensive. Whatever the case, they killed an ill man.
Fuck it, we ball.

>>5427930
>>Better not to fight. While it pains you, it’s best to just let things be.

>>5427930
>>Push for the offensive. Whatever the case, they killed an ill man.

>>5427930
>Better not to fight. While it pains you, it’s best to just let things be.

>>5427930
>Better not to fight. While it pains you, it’s best to just let things be.