Aleksei

IM EYEING THIS STILL! Still busy though so sorry ❤️

Yeup. It's in line. I will have posts up later tonight aftah class.

Maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaybe they do. Maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaybe they don't. You're not part of my house, so you don't get to sit at the special table with special conversations ;x ❤️

You all suck with your fast posting, zooming this to three extra pages since my last response My college student brain can only handle so much reading in one day! I am available for a meeting between peeps. It will more than likely be sporadic posting, but I'd like to be involved in one way or another.

I see this and just putting a bookmark on it for a better response later tonight.

@Alexei Yellow hues were ignited by the pain from her broken arm and the immeasurable amount of worry building up in her chest. A sister of Leonis Sororitas should not be so plain and eager with her expressions painted by overwhelming emotions. The comforts of a simple life had undoubtedly not prepared the young woman for this ... this travesty that has befallen Kadia. Three years, one would think the sister would be hardened against the horrors, but each day brings different dangers to her home. No amount of creative thinking could have really prepared her for this event. Tired and weary, the woman looked around for a place to sit; finding a spot atop a decorated table, she sat down and slumped against the wall. Her arm will have to be set back into place, and by some grace of the Holy-Mother, Sister Rosalind will force herself to heal quickly. There are only about fifty Sisters left in her cloister, and it's them with the capability to continuously purify the city. Rosalind will not leave her Sisters without some leadership, not when so many depend on their abilities in the heart of battle. A broken arm is nothing compared to a broken Empire. "Beastmen," she said breathlessly. "We had just finished off a hoard of Aravians, lowering our numbers." There was no recanting a marvelous battle; the truth is what matters now, and she is in no position to give him an excellent review of their failures. Sure, they had pushed back the Aravians, given them a taste of their own medicine but they had lost much to do very little. It made her a bit bitter, but she understood that each inch forward keeps pushing their enemies backward by feet. To save and preserve their home, some lives must be lost for the masses to live. "In the confusion, they appeared seamlessly onto the battlefield and overwhelmed us. Olympia, as you Melisende do, rushed forward and tried to disarm a majority of the creatures." Reaching into her battle-torn robes, the Sister produced a broken vial that was Kalopsian make; a crystalline creation that is stained by the liquid that had once inhabited it. "She infused this item and threw it before being run through by the beastmen," she handed over the vial over to Connor before heaving a sigh. Rosalind understands that SoulSeekers can infuse their soul with their weapons and armor, but she didn't think they could do it to other items. Olympia has excelled as a SoulSeeker and being a student of Deiter's, it should not have come as a surprise that she found different ways to use her abilities. The ramifications of such painted the battlefield, showing that the woman may have been too hasty in her judgment. "It saved us in the end. The beastmen were enveloped by a bright light and then burned to ash; the ground is tainted with their silhouettes."

His admissions did not ease her into this intense love; they more threw her headfirst into the fires of their passion and need. There are consequences to their actions that she is more than capable of handling, such as the siblings heralding the Mythal House. Milorian is a man who wishes change and may be willing to accept this union, though he is not one to merely dance on fire without cause. Austere will more than likely be joyous, a man who is more than happy to ignore caution if it meant the betterment of his home. That leaves the two remaining brothers, and already she knows they will be against this union. Gerald is still seen as the enemy or at the very least the depository of all their hate and anger towards the Uldwar House. Beneath Milorian's rule, the Knight has been allowed to live comfortably away from his brothers to ensure the safety of the Free Marches and its company. Marina knows that such rule is thin and stretched far; she would not be surprised if his brothers decided to test the strength of it. She is most ignorant to the things he must do to snip the ties between himself his claimed House, but she is not blind to the terrors; it will more than likely bring. He may not mind she is an elf, and his opinion is set above all the rest, but there are still some who see her as a creature that should not be. Outside her namesake, him (a human) with her (an elf) is a layer of judgment that'll exasperate others meanness. Marina can't expect Gerald to fight off the masses or take the full fall for his decisions; she knows she will have to be with him once he decides to confront the Uldwars. "I'll go wi-" Their bubble of peace was interrupted by bits of reality crashing into them. The smell of smoke made her shudder, bringing back a few memories that caused the ragged scars across her back to burn in reply. Shaking off the past, she was quick to agree that something must be done and quickly. Pirates have been a little more hectic about the waters, making travel abnormally dangerous for the ill-prepared. As they approached, she threw a few worrisome glances around; neither are exactly ready for any kind of attack but she has been put into some pretty terrible situations before with less. The scene was worse up close; a perfect picture of destruction and selfishness is floating desperately atop quiet waters. For a moment, she was too stunned to say or do anything other than frown at what's been done to possible innocents. Dying at the hands of pirates is a terrible fate.

It's clear that Novalie has an easygoing smile that's permanently planted on her lips, but the smile she wore today was a little more honest. When applying the charcoal beneath her eyes, she was reminded of the games she and her siblings used to play. Desmond had snuck herself and Olympia into the armory, allowing the girls to indulge in his expansive knowledge of armors and swords. Neither their mother or father were against their children wielding weaponry; just they had planted caution and reason into the minds of their children. It was inappropriate just nilly-willy to swing a sword and bash things with a shield; safe to say the bunch got a scolding afterward, but nothing else. The memory of the three with charcoal wrinkled by their smiles beneath their eyes made this change ... comfortable. Readied, the young woman made her way to the haughty Llewelyn casually propped atop his wild horse. The princess took a second to examine the creature before letting out an airy laugh; it was handsome, handsome enough to scare her mother. Accustomed to riding, she found herself comfortable preparing and mounting her mare, not at all flinching at the prospect of a long trail ahead of them all. Her father would have his children often accompany him to various parts of Kadia on horseback, keeping them all aware that the world outside Kadia is not as technologically advanced or as comfortable. During their ride, she would smile at Ellyna and exchange casual conversation, growing more and more comfortable in the company of her sister in arms. Between snippets of talk, she kept her attention spread around herself and the group, something at the back of her mind urging her to do so. Something was telling her to look around, see what they were passing, what paths they were taking. And that something quickly came to her as a form of realization of where they were. The heart in her chest beat to the word of home; Shrine City sparkled like an enormous gem of black, and she reached out to it. Too long has it been since she's wandered the halls of her home or infiltrated the rings surrounding it. Kadia is her birthplace, but it's Shrine City that holds many memories and feelings for Novalie, and she yearns to go and hide Nero's crown beneath a servants pillow. The castle holds various ranges of laughter and giggles were permanently painting the walls; in a sense, it was a relic of happiness for most of the Melisende brood. With the city behind them and her hands returned to the reins, she listens to their leader with piqued interest. "There is a minor band of priests and priestesses inhabiting Mount Eira," she says, tapping into the well of memories. "Their numbers may be thin now, but they may serve useful for this outpost." Though home is precious and she loves it much, it is a cage she has escaped multiple times. Desmond had suggested the wandering tribe of holy sayers, knowing that in their company she may find peace or at least obtain an understanding of such. His letters had described them in rich detail, and now she wished she had kept them, not that her memory is terrible; she would rather have certainty in words at her fingertips. Nonetheless, if they were to come across these priests and priestesses, they may remember Novalie kindly.

Farren stood there with a stupid smile on her face, the port of her confusion it would seem. She had only revealed her travels because there was no lively reason to hide her aspirations from these fellows. The last thing she expected from the two was their strange eagerness to join her on this journey; a small ping of nervousness settled at the bottom of her spine as the reality of the situation began to sink in. It has always been herself or herself and Lentil, and just ever so often a few others like herself (monster hunters). This change filled with strangers makes her shakey hands sweaty and tremor more at the idea of new faces tagging along. When Lucas looked her up and down, she clutched at her throat in a manner she wasn't aware she was capable of. Too real, she thought to herself, the voice in her head strained and terrified. If her opinion is worth anything, Farren would say these two are capable enough and would make her whole expedition a comfort. On the flipside, she doesn't want to willfully endanger their lives (even though they're the ones jumping into her business). She could not find it in herself to set them aside, mostly because she knew they'd tag along no matter what the woman had to say about it and arguing is not a sport she has ever excelled at. "Uhm," she tapped the leathers and straps adorning her person, reached behind her to shake the hood some thoughtfully. "I mean, no? But I'm not going to buy a whole new wardrobe right now. The Shawnee isn't exactly a close neighbor; the idea was to buy what is necessary the closer I get." Sketched on the map were a few little dots showing what towns are willing to trade and what wares they carry. There are indeed plans rolling around in her mind, like an unsteady marble going back and forth. "Ha! There's no need to be so dramatic," she said, ruffling her red tresses with quaking fingers. "I don't ask for your life. Instead, a helping hand will do just great." A few facets of this conversation were hitting a bit too close to her liable heart. When the world had opened itself to her wandering and fearful feet, she had met Lentil; the memory washes over her in a great wave of reminiscing. He had been a beautiful beacon of sunlight with a knee-melting smile always hanging from the corner of his lips. Farren had first been drawn by his manner of speech and impeccable manners; secondly was his kindness towards her and his willingness to give her a job. Fast forward however long, and they had made promises of lives to one another without hesitation. Having others impede on that memory made her antsy. "I-I welcome the company, and if you want to get some things before we leave, I'm open to it." A rock and a hard place. "I have a few things to gather myself before we head out anyways, so."

I LIIIIIVE! Still up for this.

Yeup, PRIME was replaced by Lamane. Once our sad PRIME in this thread is killed off, he will be replaced and PRIMES will be obsolete.

I am not sure where you got that, but nope! The magic that keeps Renovatio up I the sky is called The Will of Renovatio. It's a power source passed down to each Grand Kommadant. Without the Will, Renovatio would fall.