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  1. #11
    Viator Mundi

    EXP: 155,108, Level: 17
    Level completed: 18%, EXP required for next Level: 14,892
    Level completed: 18%,
    EXP required for next Level: 14,892


    Shinsou Vaan Osiris's Avatar

    GP
    7,753

    Name
    Shinsou Vaan Osiris
    Age
    34
    Race
    Telgradian
    Gender
    Male
    Location
    Corone

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    The sight of Felicity crumbling to her knees, overcome at last by the sheer force of her own ability, told Shinsou Vaan Osiris that it was time for him to step in.

    There was a rawness in his sculpted chest at the sight of the shimmering beast painfully struggling in the air above them, liquid nitrogen spilling in rivulets from its wound and crystalising into hailstones the size of small rocks that smashed into Whitevale below. The Telgradian watched, almost entranced by the way that the dragon’s distended jaws poured forth a torrent of subzero steam. Roaring azure poetry caught the edges of Drexel’s scales.

    “Shinsou!” a sudden cry from some of the guards at the gate tore Osiris from his hypnotic stare. Chaos reigned all around the pair. Dust, freezing vapour and screams wrestled through the air, each fighting against one another to catch the more notice from the panicked bystanders of Whitevale. Horror and death poured out of the residential area and from the surrounding streets. Hundreds of humans and others of various races clawed to get away from the doom which froze the stone around them.

    Shinsou Vaan Osiris spat a vicious, gutteral snarl . The strength of his now inhuman body sent the back of his hand into the ice wall ahead of him out of frustration for their situation. He felt a wet, crumpling pop as the sheet disintegrated, splintering into a thousand slippery fragments that scattergunned into the fields behind. A handful of fleeing bystanders stopped long enough to gape, but they too were swarmed by the mob pressure building up behind them. No one stopped to help the fallen.

    Another draconic scream roared from overhead as Drexel cried out in pain. Osiris turned back to the dragon, the raw primal power he exuded from his Danzetsu transformation throbbing through his very being. Sudden rage, furious and cold, burst from the depths of the Telgradian’s core. A tidal surge of force shot through him as the power of Starflare Pulsar, swelling at his palms into a number of dangerously unstable dark matter orbs, coursed through every fiber of Osiris’s being. New screams of terror and panic rang out as Drexel spewed forth another blue stream of artic ice, ripping the flesh off of a patrol of guards and reducing a section of the Brotherhood headquarters to icy rubble.

    The incantation was never heard, but its effects were immediate. Seven orbs of dark matter materialized above the black core of the winged reaper above, swirling and orbiting before suddenly simultaneously striking the golitath with such force that everything within two hundred feet shook violently. With a violent howl, Drexel fell from the sky and hit the floor with a sickening thud.

    As the Telgradian stumbled slightly, the chaotic aftermath quickly became apparent. A swirling, oily mist drifted around a heap of crumpled, twisted flesh that once comprised the frost dragon. Amongst the devastated carcass were scales that had crumpled like paper from the force of the gravitational attack. Warped bone and indistinguishable blue and black steaming entrails now lay in ruinous piles around the edges of a breach almost fifty feet across the Whitevale perimeter wall. The gloomy cloud of residual dark magic made it difficult for Shinsou to make anything out beyond Drexel's dead body, but he had used this spell before, and knew the destruction would have eaten another fifty feet into the Whitevale boundaries.

    Turning slowly back to Felicity, his lungs heaving and his muscles aching with the sheer effort of both the conjuring and sustaining of his transformation, Shinsou watched the power peel away from him as his body reverted back to its normal form. He cast his eyes over a watching Brotherhood. Some of the horses in the square had bolted, whilst others had spooked and brayed harshly. The garrison seemed slightly rattled, but began attending to their duties and readied the medics in preparation.

    As he approached the exhausted, spent redhead under his tutelage, she winced, almost expecting some sort of retribution.

    “Sorry for stepping in too late. I wanted to see what you could do,” Shinsou admitted as he limped past the sick girl and clasped a hand on her shoulder, “You did well, today. That beast was as dangerous as they come, and you punched a hole right through his defences. I had to throw everything I had at him to keep the big bastard down. Get yourself checked over, and come to my quarters when the surgeon gives you the all clear.”

  2. #12
    Nuclear Rage

    EXP: 64,948, Level: 10
    Level completed: 99%, EXP required for next Level: 52
    Level completed: 99%,
    EXP required for next Level: 52


    Flamebird's Avatar

    GP
    1,898

    Name
    Felicity Rhyolite
    Age
    19
    Race
    Neanderthal/ Human Hybrid
    Gender
    Female
    Location
    Corone

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    The battle had raged beyond, yet Felicity was unable to focus. Her gaze was cast to the ground, where the remains of her stomach’s contents was. The bitter cold swirled around both body and mind. Full blown panic caused her to shake as her psyche drifted away from Whitevale.


    I almost killed him! My mentor! I couldn’t control it!

    As the fight between Shinsou and Drexel went on in the distance, the destruction of buildings and cries of people fell on deaf ears. She was sweating intensely, appendages growing numb.

    He’s going to hate me now! I should of done better! He’ll let me go, I know it! I’m useless!

    The words of others echoed in her mind. Words of her pitiful state, her woes. Chants of hatred from the faceless crowds of Eiskaltians. Malice and bitter judgment from a woman of pain and frost. They all told her the same thing. She was incapable, she should do better, her efforts were worthless. She was worthless. What good was a half breed, neanderthal scum who could not control her animalistic self?

    The mighty dragon fell as Shinsou, powerful he was, brought it down. Felicity did not react. Head lowered, her thoughts were racing with panic and misery. When this was over, how would she be punished? She was always punished, deserving nothing else. She was useless, a forbidden wretch born from tragedy. Her tears started to clear as she noticed the frost coated ground once more. The frigid atmosphere was dry and devoid of comfort. The girl sat there, tangled hair covering her tear streaked face.

    Footsteps.

    Felicity blinked, noticing brown boots stepping towards her. Boot prints were left in the white, crystalline ground. Heavy and burdened, the walk was of a slight limp. Looking up, she saw the signature white coat. She was unable to look at his face as she winced, trembling. Here he was, to scorn her. Just like the rest.

    “Sorry for stepping in too late. I wanted to see what you could do.” Her eyes widened as he stepped past her before bending down. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. The light touch made her shiver. Confusion. What…

    “You did well, today…” Was he praising her? What was this?

    “… Get yourself checked over, and come to my quarters when the surgeon gives you the all clear.”

    He was telling her to get well. Her mind was a strange blank as the man stood up again, walking away. Confliction caused her to blink in confusion, tears still falling. “You’re not mad at me?” Her shadow of a voice was timid and scared, quiet and full of doubt. She was not used to this. She was used to verbal lashes, stones and rotted fruits pelted from the streets of an eternal winter village. She was used to the beratings of a cruel executioner, the heavy slammings of her sword’s pommel on her body. She was used to… anything but this.

    She was terrified she was somehow hallucinating this. She had hallucinations before. She was scared too that this was so, so undeserved…
    "I can't be proud of anything. I am ashamed of everything."

    "I gave my heart, my allegiance, all my energy for this and got nothing but ashes in return. What on earth did I do to deserve being chewed and spit out like this? Time and time again, it's all the same."


    Felicity Playlist.

  3. #13
    Viator Mundi

    EXP: 155,108, Level: 17
    Level completed: 18%, EXP required for next Level: 14,892
    Level completed: 18%,
    EXP required for next Level: 14,892


    Shinsou Vaan Osiris's Avatar

    GP
    7,753

    Name
    Shinsou Vaan Osiris
    Age
    34
    Race
    Telgradian
    Gender
    Male
    Location
    Corone

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    A day later
    The gathered subordinates of Whitevale looked on in anticipation as Shinsou contemplated carefully what he was going to say, cognizant of the empty chair that had been reserved for Felicity Rhyolite. A lot of what he wanted to speak of concerned her directly, but his words for her would have to wait. The girl had given everything in her first real taste of action alongside him, and the surgeon's report to him that morning confirmed it with a diagnosis of fatigue, so she would need a great deal of rest.

    It would be rest that was well deserved.

    He reached to pour himself a glass of whisky before swirling the contents and gulping it. He felt that was deserved, too. Setting the empty glass on the table in front, he looked up and found his subordinates' eyes across the oak surface.

    “Gentlemen, I will keep this short, but first I'd like to start by putting on record my thanks for yesterday's work .” The Telgradian said, stroking his fingers through his stubble before continuing. “Drexel's assault meant a lot of collateral damage was done to local infrastructure, and as a result, sadly, there were numerous fatalities. That these were numbered in the tens, instead of hundreds, is testament to the efficiency and effectiveness of our people. The funerals for those who courageously gave those lives will take place as soon as our coroner can clear them.”

    The summoned generals and lieutenants nodded in silent respect. Shinsou leaned forward after a moment, interlocking his fingers in front of him and resting his elbows on the polished oak, "Now, I'm going to be very clear, and very concise on my next order. Within forty-eight hours, I want the following on my desk. I want a list of Arius's currently suspected whereabouts. I want a list of his other known familiars and associates. I want Storm Veritas called in from whatever shithole bar, inn or brothel he is in, and back here as quickly as Atilla can carry him."

    "So, we're finally moving against Arius?" One of the generals picked up a pen and tapped its end against the table.

    The Telgradian mused for a second, hoping his delay wasn’t too telling. Though his own people demanded it, Shinsou couldn’t commit to a full assault against his former right hand man directly, as much as he hated to admit it. There was too much conjecture about Arius's whereabouts for a definitive strike or operation. The man wasn't stupid, and had been using assumed names and aliases, a large chain of contacts and connections and Brotherhood gold to avoid detection and move in the shadows.

    That said, he knew he could hit the bald headed bastard in other ways. Drexel was one of several powerful familiars that Arius had kept around since the calamity and sent out to do his bidding. Their deaths would serve as both a potent reminder and a warning to the traitor that the net was closing on him, and that his days were numbered. It would also deplete the man's ability to strike from hiding, and the Telgradian was certain that a final flourish against his underworld links, especially those financing him, would flush him out of anonymity.

    "We're moving against every resource Arius Mephisto has that we know about,” Shinsou said smartly, sliding a look to the general, "We're going to start by hunting down any remaining familiars, and simultaneously hit his pocket by severing his ties to Corone's criminals. That's why I want as much information as possible - I can't make bricks to crush him without clay. ”

    The Telgradian used the moment’s pause to assess the mood. There seemed to be a healthy enough appetite for revenge, and the shared looks and vigorous nodding around the table told him he had support. He didn't need it, but it always helped if everyone was pulling in the same direction. With that, the powerful spellsword donned his coat again from the rear of the chair, a draught biting his skin as he hustled around.

    "Sorry to interrupt, Shinsou, but I have a question. I appreciate this may not be the time, but..." One of the congregation, a middle ranked officer from the infantry, raised a hand.

    "Go on?" Shinsou nodded.

    "We counted two senior officers amongst the dead; a general and a captain. Currently that means that our 95th Foot doesn't have a commanding officer. Do you have any recommendations for a replacement?"

    Shinsou paused for a moment, before his eyes flitted to Rhyolite's empty chair.

    "Indeed I do. I choose to promote Felicity Rhyolite."

    The proposal was met with abject silence, followed closely by a number of confused exchanges and then finally a buzz of low pitched murmuring. The general consensus became very clear, very quickly; the upper echelons of the Brotherhood's elite were appalled.

    "Sir, if I may," one of the cavalry's commanding officers now spoke, a bemused look etched upon his creased, ageing brow, "There are many hard working, loyal men and women in the ranks who would make suitable replacements, men and women who have given everything for us for years. I don't doubt you, but I think we can all agree that the issues of trust and respect factor highly in this-"

    "You are correct." Shinsou interrupted, his raised hand staying the voices of disapproval, "...in that the issues of trust and respect do factor very heavily in my thinking. That, commander, is why you will continue to trust and respect in my decision making, for I do not make appointments like these lightly. I mean this with the utmost respect, sir, but please do not flatter yourselves into thinking you can divine my motives. There is a reason for everything I do, however unapparent. I ask for your trust in this choice."

    The officer sat back, eyes shifting between his comrades and his leader. With a respectful nod, he slid further into his chair and tapped a pen against his palm. The voices of discontent quietened once more.

    It seemed like madness to everyone else, but the Telgradian was confident he knew what he was doing. This would be the beginning of the making of his apprentice and the serving forces; a calculated move that would likely create tension in the ranks, at first, no doubt. But under his guidance, and with the pressure of the men under her, the Neanderthal would become something far beyond her own image of herself, and his own men would know something of loyalty.

  4. #14
    Nuclear Rage

    EXP: 64,948, Level: 10
    Level completed: 99%, EXP required for next Level: 52
    Level completed: 99%,
    EXP required for next Level: 52


    Flamebird's Avatar

    GP
    1,898

    Name
    Felicity Rhyolite
    Age
    19
    Race
    Neanderthal/ Human Hybrid
    Gender
    Female
    Location
    Corone

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    She slammed her fist into the wooden beam, causing it to crack like shattering glass from the weight of her blow. Her muscled arm was throbbing, hand protected by a thick leather glove to avoid accidental cuts. Her entire outfit, a thick covering outfit, was to prevent those types of accidents while she was in the medical wing. Still, it was obvious as day that she had tons of pain, converted to rage, as she stayed here longer.

    "No! You won't! You can't!"

    The doctor holding the papers eyed her with a blank face, unaffected by her little temper tantrum. As Felicity glared into his eyes with such intensity, he simply started to neaten his stacks of paper. "I can and will, Miss Rhyolite."

    Her body seemed to twitch in response, her face softening in a plea, desperate desire to appear strong. "But- I just got promoted! You can't!"

    He pushed his glasses on his face, picking up the papers from the medical table. As Felicity stood in the corner of the room, fuming, the rest of the white, clean checkup room was in perfect condition aside the wooden beam she just decimated. After long silence, he placed the neatened papers on the table again. Then, he pulled his white coat over his body. "If you really desire help, Rhyolite, you will need to let your teacher know of your diagnosis."

    "What diagnosis?" She was stubborn. For the first time, the man glared in disapproval as she crossed her arms, looking away dismissively.

    "Felicity," He sighed, "You are ill in the head. You know it, you let us see it. You need to heal."

    She looked back at him, slits for eyes, "So why isn't your medication working?" She spat.

    He sighed, picking up the papers again. "This will take way longer to heal than any other wounds, Rhyolite. We went over this."

    Once again, anger hissed like steam from a heart coated in cracked ice as she threw her arm, "Why tell him though?!"

    "Because he needs to know!" The man shouted back, "As the leader of the Brotherhood he deserves it!"

    "But it will make me look weak!"

    "So what!"

    She stopped, looking away again in clear dismay. She shook, looking down in boiling agony. She could not look weak. She needed to prove herself! Even from the medical wing, she received the news that she was promoted to General. She needed to be out in the barracks, with her new troops, proving her worth. Instead, the doctors kept her cooped up here for two extra days to evaluate her. Not physically, but mentally. The results shook her, and she was still in denial. As the silent, white room awaited the release of tension, she shook.

    The doctor spoke again, more gently. "I promised you would get well again, child. But it will take steps." He narrowed his eyes at the girl, "Let others in."

    For a long moment, silence. She stood there, eyes hidden by shadow as she slumped in defeat. Her head was such a mess. So much! She...

    She turned back to the beam without warning. The rest of the white painted beam was torn straight from the wall, thrown to the ground as she screamed. As she brought her boot down upon it, repeatedly, she released rare curses into the air in all her fear and anger. After several shocking seconds of the display, she stopped. Kicking the splintered wreck across the room, she spat her answer back. "Then give Osiris the damn medical papers! Fine!"

    She raised her fist again, slamming it into the concrete wall. The doctor watched her familiar display of sickness. This girl was not well.

    I have so many doubts on Osiris' decision to promote her. She not only is new here, but is unready with her current mental state. We have diagnosed the PTSD, but what else? Anger issues are another problem. He shook his head, sadness overtaking him as he walked towards the door. She is not the only one. Many Brotherhood soldiers also are diagnosed with this. But unlike them, her traumas were not from the front lines.

    He opened the door, sighing. I became a doctor to help people. So, I do feel upset when they don't want help so they can save face.

    He closed the door, leaving the disturbed patient behind to brood.
    Last edited by Flamebird; 01-21-2020 at 01:14 AM.
    "I can't be proud of anything. I am ashamed of everything."

    "I gave my heart, my allegiance, all my energy for this and got nothing but ashes in return. What on earth did I do to deserve being chewed and spit out like this? Time and time again, it's all the same."


    Felicity Playlist.

  5. #15
    Viator Mundi

    EXP: 155,108, Level: 17
    Level completed: 18%, EXP required for next Level: 14,892
    Level completed: 18%,
    EXP required for next Level: 14,892


    Shinsou Vaan Osiris's Avatar

    GP
    7,753

    Name
    Shinsou Vaan Osiris
    Age
    34
    Race
    Telgradian
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    Male
    Location
    Corone

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    “The diagnosis is clear, Shinsou. I can't lie to you. I have deep concerns about this and I think they need addressing. ”

    The chief medical officer of the Brotherhood, a well respected and liked man called Voss, had been with the Telgradian now for almost half an hour. Outside of the office window, the intermittent sound of soldier's chatter rang in Shinsou's ears as he tried to process the information being reported to him. The PTSD diagnosis on Felicity Rhyolite hardly came as a shock, but the fact that there was now an official medical opinion, and that someone outside of Shinsou's inner circle knew about it, was unsettling.

    “Okay," Shinsou sighed, his arms folded as he stared out of the window. “I'm not a doctor, so you're going to have to walk me through this. In your opinion, what options do we have, medically speaking?”

    “The main treatments for post-traumatic stress disorder are psychological therapies and medication. Traumatic events can be very difficult to come to terms with, but Felicity confronting her feelings and getting professional help from us is likely to be the only way of effectively treating the PTSD.” Voss took a long look at the report in his hand, thumbing through the pages with care.

    “Not got a lot to work with here, have we?” Shinsou shrugged.

    “I'll level with you. Putting her in command of the 95th and sending her out there is just about the worst thing for her,” Voss paused, rubbing her neck with the back of her hand, "But I appreciate your dilemma. You just made a very public, very bold statement by promoting her. You can't go back now."

    Shinsou simply shrugged again. “I have no intention of going back. We need to find a way to manage this.”

    “I mean this with respect, but don't be stupid. We're talking about years of therapy,” the doctor replied, “If you can't demote her, you have to bench her. If you bench her, she's no good to herself, you or us.”

    “Do you think I don't know that?,” Shinsou’s tone sharpened. For the first time in a while, the Telgradian was faced with an almost unwinnable scenario, and it was starting to anger him. “With everything that's happened with Arius, right now, I need her out there, with me, with the men. But I know we have to look after her too. The two situations aren't compatible.”

    “I can't believe I'm saying this, but there may be one other thing we can do,” Voss replied diffidently, a small frown playing about his lips as he examined Shinsou's glare. “...but it's a long shot, and ethically questionable on just about every level. I've always shot straight with you, Shinsou, but I'm not unsympathetic. That's why this would have to stay between us and we would absolutely need to get her permission.”

    “What? Out with it, then.” Shinsou remarked.

    “A few years ago, I was travelling with a woman from Akashima. She was practicing alternative medicine on veteran survivors from Pode's campaign in Raiaera.” Voss said, seeming lost in thought once more, a gaze lingering upon the farthest wall. "PTSD and shellshock were commonplace then, such were the horrors that Xem'zund inflicted on the world. We both saw some real evil out there. She helped to ease the burden on those closest to the action by altering their state of minds using elven magic. We're not talking about erasing anything here, but perhaps clouding the mind; a cotton guard against the trauma. But not a fix."

    “So she would retain her memories?" The Telgradian murmured in reply, “What kind of effect would this have on her, and for how long?”

    “Ever walked into a room and forgotten the reason why? Same thing. Only that she won't have the inclination to walk into the room, because it won't occur to her to do so. Time is a bit of a grey area, in my experience it could last anywhere between four weeks and three years.”

    “…Did any of the Raiaeran veterans show any adverse side effects?” Shinsou asked.

    “A small number failed, yes. Usually the weakest willed. But nothing comes with guarantees. You know this.”

    “We can’t afford to fuck this up,” Shinsou kept his eyes focused on Voss now, “You have my permission as long as you get hers. You can fill me in later on the travel arrangements and details if she agrees. I'll be coming with you. Oh, and not a word breathed of this or the PTSD diagnosis to anyone outside this room. That's an order.”

    “This suggestion will only be a temporary fix, Shinsou, you must understand,” Again Voss frowned, his tone more authoritative than before. “She'll still need the therapy and the medication to tackle the PTSD properly. This is just to get us through this situation, while Arius is out there and whilst everyone still gets used to the idea of her being a general.”

    "Very well. Thank you, Voss." A knowing look exchanged, Shinsou sat back down in his chair as the good doctor left to attend to his work. As Voss returned to the relative normality of the medical world, the Telgradian agonised over whether or not he was doing the right thing, and hoped that whoever it was that governed the divine mechanics of his life was looking out for him this time.

  6. #16
    Administrator

    EXP: 10,042, Level: 4
    Level completed: 21%, EXP required for next Level: 3,958
    Level completed: 21%,
    EXP required for next Level: 3,958


    Tyr's Avatar

    GP
    2,590

    Name
    Tyr Vythari
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    Human
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    Male
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    Corone

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    Submitted Thread: Insane Mind Over Clear Matter
    Judgement Type: Basic Rewards
    Participants: Flamebird and Shinsou Vaan Osiris


    Flamebird receives:

    1050 EXP
    100 GP

    Shinsou Vaan Osiris receives:

    1482 EXP
    100 GP

    Rewards to be added soon.
    Last edited by Tyr; 01-27-2020 at 04:08 PM.

  7. #17
    Administrator

    EXP: 10,042, Level: 4
    Level completed: 21%, EXP required for next Level: 3,958
    Level completed: 21%,
    EXP required for next Level: 3,958


    Tyr's Avatar

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    Tyr Vythari
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    Rewards Added

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