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About Garion

  • Rank
    Unwavering Devotee
  • Birthday 08/20/1990

Profile Information

  • Location
    Fear not, for I am equally lost
  • Occupation
    Living life.

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  1. Garion


    Alfonso dedicated his entire life to the pursuit of three things, martial ability, leadership, and politics. Never in all his years of study, war, or peace did he slack off. Like Elson he was at home here in this city filled with horror and undeath. With each new foe he met them with blade in hand, his face impassive yet each movement he made was filled with certainty and confidence. Like all great leaders one most never feel doubt even in the worst possible situation, one must keep an optimistic frame of mind. Following Elson and Virgil his blade lashed out with a flicker of steel. He aimed for limbs so as to hinder them from advancing, these lost souls were many and he did not have the time to dispatch them. Where Virgil had the elegance of a duelist, Alfonso's blade work was like watching a textbook. His blade was like quicksilver as he moved so to did his blade, both moving as one being. He was like a reaper in high summer, raging and circling, and they broke against him in futile fury. He felt it then, a heat not unlike stepping into a furnace. Like Virgil his amber hues directed their gaze towards the creature Orion summoned. It was certainly powerful, but also quite noticeable. His lips formed a grim line. The undead would certainly be killed by this being of fire, the downside was the fact that it was a beacon for tur dragons. A cold glint flashed in Alfonso's eyes, using something like a flashy trump card so early was unnecessary. “We’ll have to double time it,” he gave a nod to Virgil as he picked up his pace. He watched as Virgil fired his caster gun clearing away some of the horde. He would have certainly followed suit, alas he hadn't the time to reload. He certainly wasn't going to risk doing so now. “Elson, Huntee you two let off a shot as well, one more and we should have a path cleared.” With his free hand he pulled out an elemental stone.
  2. Garion


    A hint of melancholy touched the light of his eyes. Though Kuratel once was the seat of airship design in the north, they may have been enemies once, even so they were still fellow natives of Genesaris. Amber hues took stock of this once great city, from once majestic buildings to finely paved streets. All gone to ruin, so quickly without even a single piece of architecture spared. More so, he felt pain at all the lives lost in the cataclysm that was the Whispernight. Life is naturally fragile, there is always the tangible taste of death which stalked all mortals. Such was so for all those who Zare breathed life into. Fists clenched in cold rage. Whilst those old fools sat in their vaunted seats, like lords in their ivory tower, all this was left unclaimed. Not even a spark or desire to rebuild or save those in need burned in the breast of those old fools. He like Virgil kept a wary eye on Orion. He was not certain what to expect from this stranger. He certainly didn't seem stable, so long as he was only a threat to the undead and….other unsavory monsters they would get along swimmingly.Still, he hoped that whatever curse pervaded the man’s body would be kept under control. He kept his left hand ready to grab his Caster gun just in case. Though he has seen a few curses in his time, the thought of having someone among them, one whom no one really knew was a rather eye opening experience. Alfonso, along with his old friends were all military types, men used to working with familiar men and women for the sake of Aelindra's protection. He found it a good chance to learn. He would certainly thank Elilah personally for this experience, it would undoubtedly be of use in the future. “As always, you enjoy excursions like these.” He gave Virgil a clever smile. “Must you al-” His hand moved more by instinct than conscious thought. His left hand reached the grip of his gun, and with practiced ease drew it from it's holster. He too could hear the undead, the moans of those poor souls. Again that quiet rage burned within his chest. He would free those trapped in undeath, it was his duty as a child of Zare, and as Nobility. His gun already primed before he usd arrived, loaded with the first newly designed Caster shell. It would seem that he would finally get to field test Stonehaven’s shared invention. He, unlike Faulkner was lucky enough to not be assaulted by rotten liquefied innards. Though he did have a spectacular view of it. He followed his friend’s lead, tracing the source of Faulkner’s woes he too noticed the strange scene. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry at the scene, and quite frankly didn't have the time to think on it. It was certainly the first time he’d seen it rain undead, and even he dodged the first more followed. His right hand flashed to the hilt of his sword, in one smooth movement he drew his mana-blade. “Watch out old boy,” the warning to Virgil came seconds before he leveled his gun and fired. A bolt of white light streaked from the barrel. What followed was a testament to the West and Stonehaven’s ingenuity. The first undead shambling from out of the building was hit full on in the chest. The bolt of ‘fire’ as hot as a main sequence star vaporized the full upper half of its torso, along with those few unlucky ones following from behind. There wasn't enough time to reload another round, following his training he holstered the Caster gun and begun to lay into them with his blade. “We should find a way around them,” he spoke as his sword, a blur of steel and mana rending a foe in twain. “With this many we will draw unwanted attention from far worse.” Already his mind was working on finding an escape route. They hadn't the time to waste on killing these poor souls
  3. c: Sorry if my post is shit. Alfonso is a new character so I hope to hammer out his style during the quest, along with shaking off some rust.
  4. Garion


    Kuratel the once beautiful airship titan of the North, even lying in ruins it still held the air of unearned arrogance that pervaded the Northern lands and its people. Alfonso d’al Sancroix stood with the brave souls whom accepted the daunting task of relinquishing this once fair city of its airships. He stood amongst soldiers, adventurers, and hunters. All of them skilled in their own right. He like his friends held the air of a stranger. Elilah had made a wise decision when formulating her stratagem. He, like Cazarosta, were of the same mind. Caution was the best policy. Especially so when this city was involved. The second-string noble was indeed a handsome man, he bore the features of an Aelindrian noble well. Flaxen-blond hair cut short per cavalry regulations, which unsurprisingly accentuated piercing and lively amber eyes. He was like the regal hawk, broad shoulders squared, posture ramrod straight like all military men. His countenance held the exemplary air of the well trained soldier used to the position of command. Implacable determination, inhumanly charismatic. He wasn't just groomed for command. He was born for it. He was dressed appropriately for this endeavor. Wearing bits and pieces of the vaunted armour of the Golden Hawks legendary Talons. Knowing full well the necessity of quick and quiet movement he wore only what he thought necessary. His chest bore the protection of Salerian steel breastplate, its surface unpolished for this mission. Only his sword arm was Salerian-shod, as was expected for half-plate armour. His gun hand was free of such protection, only shod in the dark blue fabric of his military dress, trimmed with gold. The only protection afforded to his left hand was a well made leather glove. Both legs were protected by greaves, each one strapped to his specialized cavalry boots, of which his pants were smartly tucked into. Runes were inscribed in each piece of armour, increasing his strength, stamina, as well as reflexes. As well as the added boon to his armours durability. Alfonso was armed, hanging from his sword belt was his mana blade, the noble weapon hung easily over his left hip. Holstered on his left thigh was an elegant weapon. The latest model of the caster gun was within easy reach, it was a beautiful weapon designed by ag good friend. Much like Cazarosta’s caster rifle, it bore the expertly patterned runes. Although it was a caster gun it bore a markedly different shape and capabilities. Above the grip it bore a capacitor, with in the crystal cartridge it held a small exalta shard. Along with the caster shells tje newly added capacitor increased the power and range beyond the that of the older models. Having tested it himself, he knew very well it nearly rivaled the caster rifle, if not in range certainly is ability to cause massive damage could not be denied. “I will head for the airships,” his choice was not due to fear or cowardice. He has already decided to ensure the proper acquisition of Heaven’s Mercy. “I have some experience in piloting airships, I am also better equipped for urban combat.” As much as he wished to face off against the dragons, he was not the marksman like Cazarosta. He knew where his skills would be better served. Whatever foul creatures roamed the city he would be more than their match.
  5. Garion

    OoC I: The Abbadon Triumvirate

  6. <3

    Have a butt for Easter.

  7. Garion

    Dancing on Moonbeams!

    As it was his last day, he wished to at the very least spend time with his mother. Alas, he was having an unreasonably difficult time doing so. The noble ladies vied for his attention, more due to the bloodlines of his mother and grandmother, it wasn't as though he held no interest. After all, he was at the age when a young man finds certain parts of a woman attractive. Certainly these young ladies were of interest to him still, he cared deeply for his mother. Politely, very politely with as much patience he could muster managed to remove himself from their flattering attention. He wasn't surprise at the turn out. All over Renovatio nobles, even some of the PRIMEs might show themselves. His mother was a clever, and dangerously cunning woman when sue so desired. Laxus was of a mind that she was the right person for the job. Regardless of the rumors, no rumor was too soft a word, lies fit the term well. It seemed many forgot the terror and tragedy of Halcyon. Perhaps those fools should be reminded? Nevertheless the young Prince kept having to extricate himself once more from those desiring his friendship, or in the case the young ladies, a chance at a higher position. Politely, politely. Tellus’ tits I hate politics. Sometimes he wished he had his beloved sister's acumen for politics. She always knows the right thing to say at the right time. Sadly, his potential lay in more martial pursuits. Now he could see his mother, she cut quite the striking figure within the crowd. Of course it was rare for anyone to rival his family's lineage. After all, the blood of heroes and kings flowed through their veins. It seemed the new PRIME, or whatever they called themselves now was greeting his mother. I really need to pay more attention. He is still young, there will be other chances to learn. Confident, purposeful strides carried him the rest of the way. The crowd began murmuring, rumours no doubt. He wondered if the nobility in every land was like this. Hungry for any bit of information, regardless of it being true or false. Snakes the lot of them. Bastards too. Someday, I’ll make them eat crow. Shifting his thoughts to the matter at hand he came beside his mother. “Hello, dear mother.” His smile came easily, a flash of perfect white teeth and a childish glint in his sapphire eyes. He gave Koji a small dip of the chin, a sign of the necessary respect for the man’s position. “So this it the new PRIME for Oo'Xora. I am Laxus, greetings and well met!” Using the old term for Renovatio was simply a force of habit. The flaxen-haired youth offered one arm to his mother, whilst the other primal-shod hand extended in greeting. “I do hope our fair country has treated you well.” @Twitterpated @Aleksei @Chappu