raid for seifer

And as Seifer concludes-

The words roll out from the chamber as the mages of Osrona burst in through a nearby parapet. An elite squadron of some of Esshar's finest has crashed the party- A guard yells out, calling an alarm, but the roar of magic silences it. The entire chamber is engulfed in din and chaos- Befitting any revelry of Asphodel...!

The combined forces, lead by the archmagi himself crash blast away guardsman as gathered Aproproyians, Barsburgians, and Vanirhallans alike take arms...!





It gives Seifer the opportunity to resist his fate...

As futile as it may be.
But... perhaps the carnage will turn in his favor, as heroes rush to try to save him?

Seifer Gardios vs Aracelli Falkenrath begins. (Cap 5)
into
Seifer Gardios vs Kassarus Falkenrath (Cap 5)
into
Seifer Gardios vs Benedict Delisle(Cap 5)



On an Osrona victory, one of Osrona's winning or benched PCs may intervene on Seifer falling to try to successfully whisk him away.
Osrona will get no interventions. Any sidelined Asphodel PCs may intervene.
Danger cap 2.


MATCHUPS:


Lando lux Metras vs Andromeda

Violet Vartuul vs Ambrose Roche

Ciel Valkrin vs Sebastian

Auxis vs Vekel

Atagi Taiyang vs Auberon Invidia
[Narrate]

A thunderous piercing noise loudly permeates the southernmost entrance to the Asphodelian Citadel's fort, a number of implosions and clashes from the corridor leading up to the vestibule resounding in the sudden quake's wake.

Though they're all but the sounds of battle, for if anyone knew any better, they'd surely be able to distinguish the cacophony belonging to an air strike. A series of magically enhanced barrels of refined gunpowder cracking into the fort and directing attention to that side.

Forces ruffle - the body of thrilled ambassadors and guardians heading thereon, checking the southern side in an attempt to contain a breach.

Yet silence and that pungent smell of ashen waste are all that protrude, whilst a build up of tension arises. Were they breaking in through the front door...?

No.


SLAP---BOOM!


From above, the very same roof that shielded bloodkin from the blazing gleam of sunlight within their fort, yet another blast cracks the ceiling open. The pointed edge of Radamantiel, the Astyan reaping tool, is the first shade of marine blue and gold to sneak into vision.

Coated in a fiery aspect, the Archmagi's starbathed figure is the first to dive into the hall like a comet, whilst the rubble caused by the dive and incision continues to fall into a bigger rift from above. Starlight chides down with not only him, but a select and reduced group of magi.

The numbers are dim - but to be borne in mind is the gallery it presents. A series of the most infamous faces the tri-alliance had showing for it.

They drop from a distant cloudy-mist flying vehicle, now steered by the naval forces of Osrona - covered by this same azure cloud of condensed water.

A blitz - they had come for what was theirs.

Upon landing, swift is the first smile that's presented. One that rings with all of the ingenious zeal and smugness that had made it so famous in uprising.

"I hope we're not too late for supper?" The Archmagi's smug smirk undulates with his vociferation.
(Lando lux Metras)


A brilliant display of spiritual and holy flames spark to life from the clenched teeth of the Burning Grimoire as the only one deemed worthy by the Sun above to wield it arrives to save the life of a mentor and friend.

"For those we have lost and those we can still save." A simple chant with words that weighed heavily on his own soul.

Standing at his full height just beneath six feet is the Templar of Souldawn. The Shamanic Warchief of Moxtli. A kitsune whose very essence is that of an infinitely expanding flame. Calm, yet resolute as swirls of the three branches of pyromancy flicker about his frame.

To crash into an event such as this one would surely be suicide! Yet here they were - figures of the alliance between Osrona, the Moxtli Tribes, and Garljing's Coat with adrenaline already pumping through their veins.

Taking a stance beside the Archmagi, Atagi Taiyang prepares to risk his own life to save another. Anything to protect a friend.


"There is no place on Esshar's soil that the Sun's light cannot reach. Come, let me show you."


The Burning Grimoire's pages flip open and three additional tails formed of Foxfire, Holy, and Spiritual flames grow to join his original one.

Seifer would not die this day.
(Atagi Taiyang)

It was a rarity for the Dragonlord to come down from the mountain; but this seemed to justify her rare trek south. She had heard of the Vampires looming within the East and while she had her run ins with a particular one in the past she had thought them a manageable problem.

Given the appearance of Asphodel? She had thought wrong.

But whatever thoughts Violet held that day she didn't voice them. Instead she was a silent observer. But that didn't mean she wasn't prepared to bloody her blade on the Crimson Court all the same, for they all needed to be put down one after another.

As the small yet sure group stormed into the castle proper, the Dragonlord was one of the first - right behind the Archmagi - a hand upon the Dragonblade's hilt in order to draw it near immediately.

There were no fancy words.
No witty one-liners.

Violet was simply here to destroy. Perhaps by the end of the night, the Dragonlord will have burned down the entirety of the castle herself. Already there was the telltale sound of magmatic fissures threatening to tear the entry way to pieces.

The Drakanite's wings allowed her to glide to a stand alongside the others; though there was a look of outright annoyance which fit across her features at the witty one liner delivered. Violet looked forward, her expression plain and dry as it always was, seemingly wholly disinterested in being fancy.

"I'm not hungry."

The joke had gone over her head.
(Violet Vartuul)

There he thought that the evening would remain dull.

But apparently not. The Osronan magi crash the party - and it's the elite ones, no less. His head tilts with curiosity, although he doesn't seem that bothered by it. When things go wrong, most would panic, or seek a way out. But him?

He loves it when things go wrong.

Is it any wonder that the bow would be already drawn, and with the shadowy amalgamation steadily awakening? The purpose here tonight was Kassarus and his ascension, and yet..

There'll be entertainment for them all.

"Wake up, Collective. It's that time again."

From the slumber emerges a dark entity- composed entirely of ethereal, black matter, yet strangely enough, solid to ensure that it could fully interact with the world. Here...

It becomes clearly evident,
the Wyld Hunt will live up to its name tonight.

"Come forth, our dearest guests."

"I believe you've come just in time to attend the peak of this humble gathering."

One that could perhaps end with myriad deaths - and perhaps, turn the situation across Esshar in a single night. But what it would be tonight exactly?

They're about to find out.
(Ambrose Roche)

[MATCHES BEGIN]

Fury.
Carnage.
Bloodshed.

All of them are elements of something that Ambrose has learned to bask in without much of an issue- all of them are a part of an Occultist's nature. It is here, however, that such nature shines the brightest.

Or perhaps, it would be correct to say...
Darkest.

The Collective does a fine job of defending the Prince; any soldier of the tri-force Coalition between Osrona, Fireblooded and Moxtli is easily dispatched by the shadowy amalgamation, dark arrows fired upon all that dare to come near.

As expected, of course.

There, the first purple hues begin to pick up in the air- the colors of unfathomable dark, of the void itself - any familiarity might suggest the practice of Riftmancy, yet refined, more precise; perhaps, thanks to the involvement of runecasting..

Yet destructive all the same.

At last, when the fitting magi is spotted amidst the mess, the Collective aids the Prince in the single display of runecasting- it is a short transportation, only enough to fetch the two of them, and even then, only some distance away.

Violet and Ambrose are warped elsewhere.

"--Huh. This is the first time it worked without someone getting hurt."

Perhaps not the wisest of ideas... but after dropping people in and out of the proverbial void, there's enough of experimentation, trial and error alike to know what's wrong and right.

At least, for a feat as small as this.

"Violet. Nice to meet you." The Prince, perhaps to her surprise, greets her normally.

"Your son told me a whole lot about you, for all the times we spent together." Did he insinuate the two of them being friends?

"I heard you wield the dark arts as much as I do."

"Strange to see such magi among Osronans, but we all make odd bedfellows, don't we?"

Though, he does not expect a dignifiedanswer - if the rumors were true, she'll just tell him off, or something along those lines. It's expected, really.

"Show me?"
(Ambrose Roche)

All out chaos had manifested within the Court with their sudden breaking in, and it was a feeling that Violet felt all too accustomed to. Yet as both Ambrose and the Dragonlord were transported elsewhere, there was a low hiss which escaped the Drakanite's maw.

One of disgust.

For she may have been an occultist - she my have been mad, given her strange gift of a heron for the Archmagi to ride into battle on... But she knew when things should not have been present.

Vampires.
Witches.
And whatever foul magic Ambrose was tinkering with.

"Don't ever speak to me or my son ever again."

The words were harsh, of course, and while Ambrose was ultimately polite in his dialogue to the Vartuul? She was anything but; as was fitting of her reputation no doubt.

"I'll show you, certainly.

Once you're buried six feet under the ground."

The Dragonblade was held aloft, before the Dragonlord herself took to the air, only to begin her usual routine of dive bombing against whatever opponent she faced.
(Violet Vartuul)

{RP BATTLE} You have WON round 1!

The Prince knew when he could mess around.

And he also knew when he couldn't. The display of the strength that Violet possessed would suggest to him that utmost caution must be taken, should he persevere in this combat - for as much as he could evade, dodge and weave around the battlefield...

Allowing her close, even for a moment, could spell his death.

Perhaps an unusual nature to an Occultist - for rather than spouting obscenities, cackling or laughing out, there's only silent determination; a calculated mind, thinking of several steps ahead before they're even made.

Almost a demon.

Or was it the Collective that whispered to him what he should do? Regardless, as much as the toxin fills the air, and the dark arrows riddle her body, it is evidently clear that Ambrose remains focused.

Not even for a moment he lets his guard down.
He won't make a mistake of underestimating his opponent,
even if in lead.

"You know, Violet.."

"There's a saying - if they get cocky, they get sloppy. Ever heard of that?" Nonetheless, his resolute gaze remains upon her. A tiniest whisper spoken to the Collective.

"Prepare the warp."

"Do not let her close to me, at any cost."

This blade... there would be no way that he'll allow her anywhere close, if he could afford it. Though, as much as he stands tall, with only some of the blood gathering upon his body..

"Perhaps you should reconsider the words you've just spoken."

"I'm not a terrible influence on him, you know. Quite the opposite..."

"I believe his current mastery comes partially thanks to my efforts."

Does she believe that? Likely not. Still..

"Or are you so determined to see me dead anyway?"
(Ambrose Roche)

The noxious fumes which resided from Ambrose has even the Dragonlord herself rear her head backwards, a look of pure distaste escaping her mien. It was clear during that initial clash that Violet was rusty; the last time she had properly fought, Toratori had come for her head at the behest of the Vanirhallan.

And she had denied them.

Then again, she never actually practiced anyway.

"Stop speaking to me."

Her tone was cold and distant even as Ambrose tried his best to stay away from the Drakanite, she still aimed for him all the more intensely. His words rolled off her shoulders like water, in one ear and out the other. If they bothered her?

That blank expression on her face certainly didn't show it.

Cilantro's road to travel was his own, and thus far he had done marvelous - at least in her eyes. He was spirited. He meant well. Same with Iris. Violet had no issues with her children, and Ambrose's attempt to get into her head?

Would ultimately fail.
(Violet Vartuul)

Ambrose Roche says, "Hmph. As you wish."

As expected.

The blade was most definitely dangerous. Despite his best attempts to evade these powerful attacks, even singular slashes against his flesh were already enough to prove as something far too dangerous- something that could very well end him on spot...

If only he hadn't been so careful,
so calculated in his movement.

Always thinking several steps ahead. Always planning on how to escape this- perhaps in her prime, there would be no way that Ambrose might stand victorious against the Dragonlord herself. But...

Fate isn't always the actions of men.
Sometimes, it's a bit of luck.

Maybe it was his luck today that she's grown rusty from the combat- but it isn't something that would dwell on his mind. A victory is a victory, and as long as he survives yet another day until his growth is truly complete...

It means success.
At least, in his book.

"Since you don't want to talk-"

As the exchange of blows grew more curious, more intense by the moment, the volleys of arrows sought to incapacitate the Dragonlord; the toxin ensured that she would be kept in a single place for as much as possible, a testament to the strength that has grown oh so much.

There, in that moment of weakness..

<center>"Now, Collective."
"Grasp the Dragonlord."
"Get her out of here."</center>

The dark amalgamation lunges- tearing at the Dragonlord, yet not with the attacks that were really that dangerous, it served as a proper distraction; in that moment, Ambrose took the opportunity to conjure yet another rift.

Where does it lead?
Unknown.

"We'll part our ways."

"Goodbye."

"Don't come back."

And suddenly, the amalgamation grasps the weakened Vartuul - if only to fling her all the way to the rift. There, through the cold void, she's transported.

It feels like just few seconds - but it's already enough to harm her. Perhaps, he picked the unsafe route on purpose...

To her surprise, she ends up all the way back on the Fireblooded mountain.

Away from this conflict.
(Ambrose Roche)

Ambrose seemed to be several steps ahead, consistently. It brought frustration to Violet yet she didn't voice it. She had been quite serious when she had informed him to stop speaking to her.

Because if he continued, she wouldn't know what was real and what wasn't. It annoyed her to not end.

Their exchange of blows continued over and over, rapidly, but the toxins from the arrows kept her mostly at bay. Her teeth grinded together, and as that large amalgamation of darkness lunged for her, Violet swiftly pulled away to avoid it. It tore at her, and it brought blood naturally but...

It was enough of a distraction and enough room for Ambrose to pull away properly. To conjure a rift; and to leave. But perhaps the amount of space she had paid to the amalgamation hadn't been far enough.

For as she huffs in that typical frustration of hers, she's grabbed. Her eyes widen, before she's flung through the rift - into the void, coldness apparent. It's enough to cause harm, before she's transported all the way back up the mountain.

What in the god damn?
(Violet Vartuul)

Event Admin: Seifer Gardios vs Aracelli Falkenrath begins. (Cap 5) Seifer wins!
Into
Seifer Gardios vs Kassarus Falkenrath (Cap 5) Seifer wins!
Into
Seifer Gardios vs Benedict Delisle(Cap 5) Seifer wins!

+ Lando lux Metras vs Andromeda - O 4
- Violet Vartuul vs Ambrose Roche - A 1
+ Ciel Valkrin vs Sebastian - O 1
+ Auxis vs Vekel - O 2 CAPTURE
+ Atagi Taiyang vs Auberon Invidia - O 3

Osronan mages have succeeded at crashing the party, freeing Seifer Gardios as the territory erupts into chaos...!




Intervention:
Ambrose Roche vs Auxis.

From the purple mist, he emerges.

The vapor of the Riftmancy, no doubt- for after sending Violet away, all the way back to the mountains, the Prince was quick to assess the environment he's arrived into. Perhaps it was the fate that led him here...

Or pure luck.

But what he spots is the Champion of Kark, already defeated by Auxis. His head tilts a little bit, rather intrigued by the sight of what he sees.

"--Ah."

"So he's fallen after all."

Yet he remains poised. The Admiral of Osrona was a formidable foe, and he knew that - and whereas one could expect the Occultist to be a raving mess of insanity and buzzing thoughts..

His mind is calculated, cold.
Precise.

Perhaps it is what makes him a more terrifying Occultist to face - but only time would tell what the outcome of this battle would be. Nonetheless..

The bow is raised towards Auxis- a single arrow aimed at him.

"No further."

"I still need that one."

A single warning, and no other words spoken. Though, surely..

Auxis already knew where this is going.
(Ambrose Roche)

Keeping the Vanir encased in watery restraints, he had began dragging him back towards the Air Ship that was descending to the ground. It came without words, that the man had a plan for them, something that should probably be stopped.

And being stopped it was, their steps stopping with the sound of a single arrow drawn, "Looks like I need t' deal with some more...Surprised nobody kept ye' at bay." Loudly the rather injured man spoke, their body covered in dripping green-ichorous blood.

Many wounds had been taken from the face off against Vekel, "If'n ye' want this one, I hope ye' don't fail like I myself had." Already this scene was feeling nostalgic. Just as once Auxis had failed to save Elias from the grasps of Vekel, would Ambrose do the same?

Or would the Admiral be forced to flee to the ship, without their captive.
(Auxis)


{RP BATTLE} You have WON round 1!

He was no doubt powerful.

And Ambrose understood that all too well. Of all things, he had never expected to meet his match among the Sirenians - for their kind was rare upon Esshar, let alone to see one siding with Osronans. Is it perhaps the fact that he had fled the roots of the Deep Company?

Or is he an entirely new addition?

Still, the dark arrows rend and tear against the flesh of the Sirenian- the poisonous toxins intend to bring him down, and the purple hue soon commences as the riftwarp; constantly spoiling the attempts of Auxis to try and engage upon Ambrose.

Still, majority of the magics land...
And the young Prince feels that.

"You're powerful. More than I'd expect."

The arrows are re-collected; the shadowy amalgamation, the Collective, prepares them for its owner once more.

"Why side with Osrona?"

"You do realize that you will just become a proverbial wall for anyone ambitious to surpass, don't you?"

"And retire by the time you're in your thirties or so - provided someone doesn't kill you first."

It's the fate all too common for the forces of 'good'. There was no long-term ambition, no greater goal..

All they did was prevent others from doing something.

"Your potential is wasted on this."

It may sound like a mere attempt to make him lay down his arms, but... the worst part of it?

It isn't. He's genuinely curious.
(Ambrose Roche)

Auxis says, "Now ye' make me curious, on why ye' choose this, but? I think we should leave the chattin' for another time."

{RP BATTLE} Auxis is ready for battle!


{RP BATTLE} Ambrose Roche is ready for battle!

Auxis says, "First I'll be drownin' ye' out."

Of course, a face off between rivals took place around the premises of the Crimson Court, their clash conflicting with many other battles breaking out on the field. Poisons and bones collided with deadly aquatic projectiles- their mutual, unyielding efforts devastating the battlefield.

"It doesn't matter the waters that we're in, shark! This battle will be decided upon the Blood God's beliefs- the weaker warrior will fall!"

Those eerie hums and chants grew increasingly louder- calls from the otherworld of unholy origins. Inducing headaches and macabre visions, Vekel sapped all the power that he could, channelling every ounce of mana left in his body and flooding his circuitry to its brim.

This was deadly.

"Nobody has passed my trial thus far, and you will not bring down His Titan to be the first."

The Champion did his best to dodge and evade the deadly beams of water,knowing full well how much damage they could do to his body. Getting hit by a few of them could easily decide the tides of this battle.

No pun intended.

Unleashing a sky shattering war cry, Vekel imprudently charged forward at Auxis- concealing himself in a shroud of toxins to block Auxis' vision of him. While effective as usual, the Admiral was no fool.

They'd fought before.

Charging at him, even his death-defying devotion couldn't have prepared him for the following onslaught. Dazed and paralyzed by a whip of aquatic energies, Vekel's breastplate tanked the majority of that hit- those sapphire hued tattoos glowing as bright as the sun, cooking him from the inside.

No amount of devotion could save him here.

…

As the hydro prison came to lock his movements and hold him captive, Vekel not once hit the ground, bewildered and dilated pupils stunned at the prospect of defeat.

Missing a large chunk of his chestdown from the top of his shoulder, the Karkian had temporarily lost the ability to move- only standing tall now from sheer willpower, epidermis exuding smoke in a concerning fashion.

"... you've passed the trial."

Grip loosening on his blade, a faint smile came to form on his face- cathartic. Despite being bested by an enemy.. what more could he ask for? His own shortcomings had resulted in his failure, but wasn't a Karkian's destiny to die, if not immortal?

Coughing up crimson fluids, the defeated Champion let out a pained chuckle, barely conscious eyes staring out toward his enemy.

"Kill me. You've earned it."

His fate was completely in Auxis' hands, his eyes closing- mainly due to exhaustion and overexertion. The songs, hums and chants had all ceased- an eerie silence.

"... praise be... to the Blood God."

It was time to join the legions of the fallen that never quite reached Godhood- join the pool of failures.
(Vekel)

"Next time we meet, you can tell me...Exactly why you think, that I will be surpassed, retire at thirty? Look at me, still full of vigor even at my age." His inner-pirate was shown, as rancorous laughter started to sound out. There was enjoyment in these fights for the Sirenian, one that left injuries riddling his body.

"Next time."

While speaking, a devouring gale of poisons covered his entire body. Only for his body to vanish into a thin-mist. Both sides were exhausted, that had been the final chance for him to fall. One more tap, and they would've been defeated.

But that tap never came, as instead the final volley of their airship rained down. One that signified its touchdown, one that left him distracted long enough for a deluge of water to come crashing down.

Crushing down, it'd shove Ambrose downwards, leaving them unable to do anything...As Auxis had already re-appeared, walking towards the gangplank of the ship.

"For now, I've got something more to deal with, then 'you'."

However, to Lando telling him to leave the weight, there was no response. Vekel was coming with them.
(Auxis)

A man of strength perhaps far too much.

Yet the Prince was young- performing as far as he could was already an achievement of its own, even if he did not accept the result deep inside his mind. After all... how could he simply make peace with it?

There would be one more stepping stone to overcome.
One more threshold to step over.

"--You still ask why?"

"Because your kind always does."

Whether he accepts it or not is entirely different matter. Even then, the Prince fights to the last- to the bitter end, if one must. For as much as the deadly toxins swarm his body, and the dark arrows pierce the body of the Sirenian..

It's simply not enough to bring him down.
Not quite enough strength.

The final exchange comes through- yet while he could exhaust the Sirenian and even wound him, Auxis deals a far more dangerous blow to the Prince; a large cannonball of dense, heavy water, compressed into a powerful tool that could crush the bone and bruise the flesh alike.

Fired right at Ambrose.

"Mmph-!!"

There's a shout in pain- but it's quickly silenced by the water that drowns him. If he had stayed any further, then this could remain very dire; soon enough, the Collective manifests, knowing that its master needed help.

Knowing that it cannot live without Ambrose.

The purple color gathers quick- while he's caught up in the water deluge, the Collective creates the runes necessary to escape, holding onto him all the same. There...

A sudden, but quick warp allows him to escape.
Somewhere else.

"A-ah.."

Only then does he find strength to crawl away into the warp- to disappear from the sight of his enemies.

A rarity.

For a Prince to face defeat.
(Ambrose Roche)