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The Fifty Years' War (FFT RP)

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Dark_Fire27

Super-Earth
Joined
Sep 30, 2016
"The travel has been long, Damen, but we're not far from the meeting grounds. After some business there, you will be free to choose your own path." The blond swordsman spoke, riding on the back of his large, yellow bird that was a companion, as well as a mount, the chocobo, Boco. He was referring to the half-daydreaming blond that was following him on a chocobo mount of his own, to which Damen would snap out of his thoughts, and gave a bit of a sound of assurance. "Mayhaps something be on your mind? I am quite aware this is far from what you considered home, but your household and family is well secured within the walls of the castle of Eagrose. Mayhaps... it may be of your father?" The white knight that was Wiegraf Folles continued the conversation, and Damen thought of how to word that.

"No, no... that's not the reason why my head's in the clouds, m'lord. I-I mean..." Damen just realized he admitted he was daydreaming right there, though the knight he served under didn't even look towards him, though he knew that he was probably going to receive a bit of a scolding. "Well, I have never traveled this far; the lands are far different than I ever could have thought. At my youthful age, to see more of our land that is Ivalice is just... an eye-opening experiencing, Ser Wiegraf." Damen hoped that recovery would peak to the knight's curiosity, but... not a word was spoken. The words were truthful, Damen was aware of that much; being this far away from the kingdom of Gallione did bring up a bit of homesickness, yes, but even then, he was seeing things that few have in apprenticeship under the wing of a benevolent knight and commander.

Even though Damen's graduation at the Gariland academy was performed early, as did those of fellow apprentices, he had some idea of training under his belt. His sword may not have held the wound and blood of an Ordallian upon it quite yet, there was no doubt that the Red Squire might see that day, sooner or later. Though, as soon as Wiegraf gave a small whistle, Boco stopped, with Damen pulling the reins of his own chocobo, halting in place. "Hold. That fortress over the next hill, Damen... That is where apprentice squads shall be assigned. Where you will be placed with other noteworthy apprentices such as yourself; though your father's training remained firm on you during our own sessions, you at least know how to get things done, to defend yourself when the time comes. He may no longer be of the land of the living, though rest assured... Ser Alexander very well would have been proud to have you, his son, to protect his family, and defend our land of Ivalice." Wiegraf's words were definitely stern, but Damen got the feeling that he may be expressing his own proud feelings, rough around the edges as they were.

Soon, Boco and his rider would begin to rush forward, and Damen delayed briefly as he urged his own mount forward at running speed as well, in an effort to keep up. The wind felt really nice as it blew upon him from the movement, as the sun hung high in the afternoon sky as they would approach the Fortress of Besselat. The forest they were once in thinning out, the risk of danger reducing significantly, though of course, it wasn't just Damen and the white knight traveling this far out; many others, apprentices, skilled knights, talented mages, were brought out also to gather at the fort; it was here that with the major generals of the Orders, they may be able to mount a counter-offensive against Ordallia, using squads to spread out the forces, and reduce the numbers effectively. Though all was assured to the civilian population... the truth to the soldiers was that rations were reducing by the day, lives were being lost in the thousands... and locations were gradually being overtaken by the threat. Ivalice was struggling in this war... Damen knew he himself couldn't tip the scales, but he hoped the squad he would be assigned to may make a difference of its own, even if it is only small.
 
You aren’t much older than my daughter,” Folmalv noted, shaking his head sadly “and now here you are, going off to war. Will I repeat this scene again and again? With Meliadoul, and Isilud a few years down the line? How many of Ivalice’s young will be sacrificed to this war?”

“Lord Tengille?” the young knight asked, taken back by the sentimental display form her instructor.

“Don’t mind me, Lydalia. You will do well, if you keep in mind all I have taught you,” he assured her, beckoning her to follow. They made their way to the Fortress of Besselat, and he continued, “There is but one last test, before I set you out on your own, my apprentice.”

She certainly looked like an apprentice, with her far too neat and clean battle dress. Navy and cream, with silver cross on her chest and gold trimming, she wore the attire of Ivalice’s elite nobility. The visage was somewhat betrayed by the brassy twin braids flowed from her head, a last, mocking gift from her Ordallian great grandmother. Still, the blood of ancient Ivalice flowed through her veins, and she was determined to prove that loyalty, in war if need be.

"Wiegraf,” Folmalv called, making his way to the blond knight, and his blond acolyte, “It is good to see a familiar face. This is my student, Lydalia Riovanes. Lydalia, this is White Knight Wiegraf Folles.

“It is an honor, Lord Folles,” she acknowledged, and curtsied in respect.

You two have been assigned to the same squad,” Folmalv explained, motioning to the blond apprentice, “and there is one more who should be arriving shortly, and then we will set out.”
 
Pierro Gallo trailed behind his mistress, peering glumly about the fortress as he did. This was not what he'd imagined when he'd been chosen as the apprentice of Calculator Magus Avelia Udinesi. Yes, he had known that the Touten was a knightly order. But he'd assumed that a "Calculator Magus" was a... an accountant, perhaps. Or, more likely, an Oracle who studied probabilities to determine the likelihood of a prophecy. But no. Calculator Magi were...

"How many paces since we entered the hall, Pierro?" Mistress Avelia asked cheerily.

"Four hundred and... twelve?" he answered, half-guessing.

She sighed at that. "Four hundred nine," she responded patiently. "And the significance of that is..?"

"The eighty-first prime number," he responded automatically. "And 81 is the fourth power of the second prime."

Her grin of delight was unfeigned at that final remark. "Excellent! But remain aware of the numbers, Pierro. Our universe is built upon mathematics, after all. Existence and nonexistence, something and nothing, combined in pairs and triplets and quaternaries and octals which describe the nature of reality to those with eyes to see. And a Calculator Magus can read and interpret - and change - that description!"

He nodded, although he knew he was a long way from understanding. His training to date had been in alchemy, and in learning how to walk correctly in a perfect 37-inch stride, and in observation. And in math, of course. Far beyond simple addition and subtraction into multiplication and division, and then into geometry and the calculus. And theology, for the Calculator Magus must also understand the nature of the kami and the heavens.

"Sir Weigraf!" his Mistress called, interrupting his thoughts. "Sir Tengille!" As he watched, she darted forward precisely 57 steps and embraced one before shaking the other's hand. She should have looked out of place, her simple clothing contrasting with the elegant uniforms of the other two knights, but Mistress Avelia wore her iconoclasm as a badge of honor. "It's good to see you two again! And these are your apprentices? Wonderful! Come, let me introduce you to my own!"
 
Little did they know the group was actually followed. A little band of moogles holed themselves up in this fortress,thinking it was abandoned of course. "Kupo..." a little whisper came from a seemingly empty barrel with a red pom-pom wiggling about.

It wobbled about until it fell over and out rolled a moogle, one of several that had shown themselves along with a curvy blonde female hume. "I smell chocobo...kweh?" she said gently, until she noticed the other units.

"Ahh...we have company, kupo!" she stated, her speech different from the others thus far. "Mog what do we do, Kupo?" she asked the biggest Moogle there who seemed to be the leader of the bunch.

"We'll just wait and see what they do, Kupo, we don't even know what they plan to do here."

Molina listened to this and nodded. "Alright then...kweh."
 
Damen stayed close to Wiegraf as they arrived at the Fort, but Wiegraf seemed to question the sudden atmosphere. The apprentice didn't see it, but the White Knight could just... feel, that something seemed misplaced, something was wrong. The fort was the meeting grounds, but there only seemed to be a few other major characters, as well as the apprentices. Wiegraf was surprised by the magi when she approached; though her attire was more fitting for commoners, he has seen her face before. "Lady Avelia, the Arithmetician and Calculator Magus. It is fine to see you well under such circumstances, as with you also, Lord Tengille, the Divine Knight." The white knight spoke, dismounting his large bird mount, in which Damen was short to follow, though obviously with a bit more trouble; the apprentice actually got hung up in the saddle and just toppled over and off, his face landing first on the grassy surface of the ground.

Well, that was a great first impression, just fall right out of the saddle. But, Damen never ridden a chocobo up until now, so it was clear from that perspective, yet nonetheless, the blond acolyte got to his feet, dusting himself after his recovery. He heard of these other mentors; Tengille Formalv was a talented swordsman who can break the equipment of his adversaries with but a single swing of his mighty sword. Avelia Udinesi was as equally talented with her impressive calculations to conjure up powerful magicks in the right places they are needed. Wiegraf had his own set of talents, and that was to use his divine sword to deliver punishment to his foes with a swift strike, with odds of delivering additional problems and chaos to the rivaling ranks.

The three were certainly gifted and talented, that was for sure; there was no reason to doubt they got to where they were from the training they acquired at a far younger age. Damen would look over to the apprentices; to him, he didn't recognize them, though he must look rather out of place of the three; while he was donned in what seemed like leather armor, it served as a protective layer from some blades and arrows, and fashioned to function as regular clothes on top of it. His sword sheathed at his side, his shield resting firmly on his back, with a white staff secured also, he definitely seemed ready to see some action.

"We can discuss our matters at another time... Tengille, this fortress, it was where we were to report, was it not? If that being the case, then did we arrive sooner than anticipated, or some other reason... or mayhaps-" At that instant, a whistle sound was made, and Wiegraf turned around, drawing his sword in one single motion, at the right time to split an incoming arrow that was to strike his back, each split half landing on either side of him. "False information... It was an alluring ambush; given out by Ordallian rogues, no doubt. Battles cannot be won without seeing some bloodshed... Damen, yield them no quarter!" Wiegraf spoke as he brought his shield to his left arm while taking his stance, as his apprentice drew his own blade and shield, readying himself for battle. As he did, he assessed his surroundings; a few barrels were tipped over in the same courtyard the mentors and apprentices stood some distance from them, revealing a couple armor-clad male knights, as well as a female monk in her combat gi, and on the walls were a trio of archers, two male, one female, with what appeared a female chemist alongside each of the male archers. A squad of eight, against a group of six... They had numbers, and distance also with the archers. All of them, however, donned the Ordallian coat of arms on their form in some shape or another. Damen knew this would be his first true fight, and he should take in account of the fighting styles of the other apprentices and those of their mentors.
 
Lydalia took note of the other two apprentices, young men around her same age. Wiefgraf’s apprentice was equipped similarly to herself, sword and shield, and also carrying a staff. It seemed a bit odd, but Lord Tengille had warned her that some knights would target an opponent’s equipment directly. In which case, having a back up weapon would prove invaluable. She nodded in approval at this choice, deciding she should also look into carrying a secondary weapon, when she got a chance.

The other man had a knife and vials on his belt. Potions, she recognized some, but not the others. A chemist then. Lydalia considered this. It wouldn’t be her choice, but not everyone was suited to the sword. Someone needed to fight on the front lines, and someone else needed to tend to the medicine. It was her duty as a noble to fight, to meet the enemy face to face. A good squad would balance the skills and gifts of each member, to cover their weakness and build upon their strengths.

Before any further conversation could continue, Ordallian troops made themselves known. Outnumbering them, and clearly girded for war, it would be a difficult battle. Difficult, but not impossible, so long as the group could manage to work as a team.

Rushing into the front lines was foolish, but she was never going to make a name for herself on the back lines. Afterall, she wasn’t mistress Avelia, who could manipulate the battlefield from anywhere. Still, she had to figure out something. If only there was a way to get them to rush, then they could have the advantage.

That was it! She picked up a fist sized rock from the ground and hurled it at one of the knights. With a thud, it hit him square in the temple, blood tricking down the man’s face. Angrily, her opponent charged, his own sword above his head. She braced for the blow, forearm absorbing much of the force as he brought down his weapon. She struck back with a tackle into his gut, knocking him off balance before striking with her own sword. The man lay dead before her, her first kill. The first step to bringing glory to the Riovanes name.

Very good, Lydalia,” Folmalv praised, “Lure your enemy from their advantageous position, into one that is advantageous to you. Isolate your opponent, and finish them without mercy.” He advanced now, and she took just a moment to examine her forearm before following. A shallow cut, not deep enough to interfere with wielding her sword. Up ahead, Folmalv used one of his fabled sword techniques, striking the archers from afar with blue light and stunning two of them, “Advance now, while the archers are disabled!
 
There was no time for introductions. Even as Sir Wiegraf acknowledged Lady Avelia's greetings, Piero saw her glance around sharply. Calculator Magi were trained to constant observation, and she'd clearly noticed something. But what, he wondered as he looked around himself. What had she seen? It was Sir Wiegraf who provided the answer, shouting warning of an ambush as archers and knights emerged into view.

"How tall are the walls?" Lady Avelia asked calmly, moving 7 steps backwards to keep the knights between herself and the oncoming enemies.

"Is this really the time..?" Piero asked, terrified and disbelieving. They were under attack, and she was still teaching?

"How tall?" she repeated, unslinging her Mithril Whip as she spoke.

He glanced at it, swallowing hard and estimating, then flinched as Sir Folmalv slashed the air and blue light stunned two of the archers. "Uhm.. 45 feet," he managed, trying not to watch the enemy knights charging towards them. "A multiple of three and of five."

"Well spotted," Mistress Avelia said, approvingly. "Now..." The pitch of her voice changed, and unseen winds stirred her clothes. "Fira!" Mana surged as she rewrote part of the source description of the world, and flame erupted along the battlements. The archers and the chemist screamed as they transformed into living pyres, collapsing before his stunned gaze. Then a woman was on him, unarmed and hard-eyed, leaping into him and driving a foot into his gut.

Piero staggered backwards, feeling pain lance through his chest as two of his ribs cracked. As she closed in, he fumbled his blade from it's scabbard - sixteen inches of single-edged blade, two short to be considered a sword but far too long to be a simple tool. The monk closed in again, throwing a complex array of punches. It was more luck than skill that kept them from connecting as he stumbled backwards, desperately waving his knife in an attempt to parry. At one point, he felt the sickly crunch of steel edge parting flesh, and suddenly the monk stopped short. He watched, heart pounding, as she looked wildly about with eyes filmed over.

The alchemical treatment of the Blind Blade had done it's work.

Nerving himself, Piero gripped the hilt with a clammy, sweat-slick hand. "For... for Ivalice!' he shouted, driving the dagger into the nearly-defenseless monk's belly.
 
Molina just watched the fight from the highest point in the fortress, it seemed no one was aware of the band of Moogles hiding up there.

"Ohh, look at them go at it, kupo...what are they fighting over?" Molina tilted her head as she looked out of the window.
 
"huh, the fighting started already eh?"

the voice rang out from behind the frontline as one more young man rode up and hopped off his chocobo.

finding a slightly elevated position behind the Squires and mentors he pulled out his bow, deciding to make those disabled Archers his first targets as picking them off should take the pressure off their own frontline.

"let's see if my Bio shot does is thing as good as it always does."
 
Further back into the forest from the rest of the Knight's and apprentices was yet another pair of soldier's marching towards the meeting point. Two women, one older, well armed and girded with chainmail underneath a rather plain brown dress and green cape. The other was younger, a red haired woman armed with a simple work axe and a stylish but hardly protective leather outfit. They marched this whole way on foot and the young squire was quick to complain about the affaire. "Ugh, seriously? They send me off without proper arms or armor and then they make us walk all the way out here by ourselves? My feet are killing me."


"A lighter pack makes the trip that much easier Grimhilt. Would you rather I have you carrying around all this heavy armor while we marched?"
Said Milleuda Folles, Grimhilt's mentor and sister to the White Knight Weigraf they were scheduled to meet.

Grimhilt shrugged in response, "If I actually got to use them in battle then I'd gladly take the burden but your deflecting my point Master. Do the generals really expect me to go into battle like this?"

"As a drafted conscript your loyalty becomes partly in question. Likely chance you'll desert and sell equipment like mine. That is the official reason but the lines of caste between commoner and nobleman still remain in the ranks. Until you prove yourself you are still just serf to the lords. Prove yourself in battle and that will change, at least to your brothers and sisters in arms." Knight Folles said with a smile.

"The Nobles would rather a peasant like me die as fodder so the real Knights can take all the glory when the enemies sword arm is tired from me then?" Grimhilt paused to reach for his waterskin, chugging down the last of what she had left to help her get through the long march.

Knight Folles frowned, "You need to have more confidence in yourself if you expect to get anywhere on the battlefield. You've been chosen for this opportunity for a reason. The squad your assigned to is made up of the most promising squires and chemists to come out of the academy."

"I have all the confidence I need Master, but is this squad made because of a recognition of our abilities or out of desperation? Emptying out the training academies and pressing new recruits into battle before their ready is an extreme strategy. 'All or Nothing' is what they call it."

"They taught you of strategy at the academy?"


"No, my books did. A lesson learned via autodidact before I was drafted."

"Then let this be another lesson from me squire. Opportunity can always be found even in the most dire of circumstances and you should already know to never scoff at opportunity. You're a soldier, not a strategist. Think about what you can do rather then what others have done already."

Before Grimhilt could respond, the two finally climbed the hill blocking their view of the Fortress of Besselat and the two instantly recognized the battle starting at the edge of it's walls. "Looks like it's time to do some soldiering squire. With me!" Knight Folles shouted before drawing her sword and charging into battle.

"Wha-?" Grimhilt started in surprise but begrudgingly followed the orders of her superior, charging in behind her and drawing her axe. As they approached and the two sides in front of them met, Grimhilt observed the situation and she didn't like what she saw. The Archers were in a perfect position to tear apart their ranks and without proper ranged support this battle was better retreated from then fought but it would seem Knight Folles and the others had a different plan. Knight Folles saw what she did but also recognized the other fighters on their side and shouted orders to Grimhilt, "Squire climb that wall!"

"W-what?!" Grimhilt asked before turning her view back to the wall and spotting a rope going about three quarters down the face of the wall with some very rough mortar work below it. Likely sloppily left behind when the enemy initially took this position. "Seriously?!"

"You're the one with the lighter gear! I've got your back squire just move!" Folles shouted as she locked blades with an Ordallion knight. The loud clang of steel punctuating her orders.

"Damn it!" Grimhilt said before rushing past her Knight in battle and the rest of the combatants along the way. Meeting the wall, she wedged the blade of her axe between the stones to give her extra leverage as she climbed. An axe was a working tool as much as it was a weapon and proved to have that advantage over a sword in this case. She climbed as fast as she could but the tall wall still gave her time to think about the situation. The strategy was sound, the archers and chemist had no squires or knights backing them up from what they could see but once she got up there it would still be 4 against one. As she mulled over this thought while reaching the rope a wave of fire blasted out from the top off the wall. Magic was something Grimhilt was very unfamiliar with and she hadn't taken it into account in her calculations. Still, she wasn't about to complain that her suicide mission just became more managable.

Once she hoped the wall, Gimhilt took a moment to access the situation again. The Magi's display of fiery might proved effective but not all the archers were standing so close and the chemist had something prepared for a situation like this, covered in horrible burns but still clinging to life and in the red haired woman's way. Gripping her axe tightly she charged forward having just barely caught the two off guard. The archer reacted in time, moving forward to block the wild swing with her bow to protect the injured chemist. Grimhilt's chop snapped the bow in half but blunted her swing allowing the archer to retaliate by stabbing an arrow into her shoulder. Grimhilt cried out as she bled but continued her assault, wildly swinging and weaving through the archer's stabs until she caught the woman's arm, staggering her and letting Grimhilt bring her axe down into the woman's skull in a spray of blood. Overzealous, she continued to chop into the liveless corpse until the chemist had a chance to strike her in the leg with renewed strength after downing a healing potion, leaving a deep cut that almost toupled her to the floor. Grimhilt wasn't ready to give up yet and the chemist proved much less evasive then his friend he soon met on the floor. Her swing met the man's shoulder and tore him down before Grimhilt pulled back the heft and started chopping. Battered, bloody, but successful she staggered away and waved over the wall at her comrades before collapsing to catch her breathe.
 
Everything was so sudden; the opposing numbers seemed to be quickly dropping from the combined efforts of the Ivalicians, whether they were opportune for fighting or not. "Damen, deal with the remaining chemist on the wall! Milleuda!" Wiegraf had immediately seen his younger sister rush into the fray, to which he would make his charge towards the same knight she crossed blades with, his blade glowing red with holy energy. Damen staggered, but he realized this was no time; that chemist could very well be preparing a phoenix down to bring back a fallen comrade. There wasn't a moment to lose, and soon, finding a stairwell to quickly scale to the wall after rushing through the open gate, Damen was also chanting something, his own spell of sorts, but it differed greatly from the mage who cast her spell. His blade would soon be engulfed in flame, burning brightly as he reached the top of the wall... only to feel an arrow strike him in the left shoulder. Grimacing in pain if only for a moment, it would appear as though the archer was whom the chemist brought back, as seen from his burn marks as well as an arrow from the most recent allied archer that showed up, and it was clear he sought to take someone down, or fall in doing so!

Damen rushed, raising his shield to block another incoming arrow with an audible *THUNK!*, more prepared for it this time, closing the gap quickly. Rather than go for a sword swing, the acolyte opted to tackle the archer, the position of him was close to the wall, and that was all he needed. Ramming into the archer shield-first, the Ordallian stumbled backwards from the impact, then struggled to keep his balance on the edge, with no avail, and gravity overtook him, causing him to fall from the incredible height. The Red Squire was sure to slow himself down enough so he wouldn't end up falling himself, and to turn his attention to the chemist. His blade still burning with the hot flame, he did well to watch her motions. She seemed afraid, her eyes showing a bit of fear... She was Ordallian, and while she was unarmed in this moment, he saw her reaching for a knife at her side. Though Damen was trained to take out Ordallians before they could draw their blades... there was just no honor in it. With her blade drawn, however, it did make her fair game, and he charged at her, and she certainly wasn't as maneuverable as the archer would've been if he hadn't been injured, leaving her alive was out of the question. Striking her with the shield when she went to make a thrust at him with the knife, it was enough to stun her briefly enough for him to swift at her with his blade, causing a deep gash along her stomach... but the enchantment on his blade wasn't for show.

Following the slash, the chemist was once again engulfed in flames from his blade's enchantment, and this time, her crippling burns were too much for her to handle, and she collapsed, her spirit no longer in the land of the living. It was from up on the wall, however, that looking into the fortress... there were a few more troops on standby, ready to replace their fallen comrades. Damen may have brought two down, but those numbers meant nothing if they were to be replaced by double, maybe triple! Sure, there were no archers to particularly fear, but there were plenty of knights, a good majority more properly equipped than the ones fought in the courtyard, many with shields as well. The situation seemed to go from bad to worse; they had planned this ambush; if smaller numbers failed to be rid of the Ivalicians, then the numbers would be replaced, and increased upon.

When it appeared as though things would look grim, trumpets would sound, and though this was the front gate, he could see that the back was being attacked by allies in arms! Reinforcements of their own; about time! Damen reached to pull the arrow out of his shoulder, allowing it to fall to the concrete ground in which he stood. He would hurry over towards the most recent apprentice, whom also scaled the wall to take out the other archer and chemist, and... while it definitely looked more like a butchery than a simple strike, kill, be done and move on, Damen wondered if this was his and the apprentices' first victory. Then again, it was possible the mentors who not only taught them, but put in far more effort to gain the edge would take most of the credit.

Damen wasn't going to argue, however, and making sure there wasn't a threat on the walls near him, he would hurry over to the other apprentice while sheathing his sword, making sure she was okay. Her injuries, stabs from an arrow and knife, she would live, there was no doubt about that. "We have a chemist down below. Just lean against me, I'll help you get back down so he may treat you..." Damen would help the woman up, getting her to where he had his good arm resting underneath hers, then he would carefully pace forward.

"I should've known we'd smell a rat... or a couple of them!" Ordallian knights noticed that something was odd, and Damen heard the voices nearby, thinking it was he and the woman he was helping being referenced, though it would seem that they were addressing some barrels... which they had knocked over to reveal the individuals within; a woman, as well as a creature that Damen only really read about, and seen once from a summoner's display at a young age... A Moogle! A live moogle... one never sees them in this area, so it made him wonder if there was a settlement close, or just wanders. Regardless, Damen was trying to help the one apprentice down, but... it seemed one of the knights caught sight of him, and had his blade drawn, approaching them. This was the one who spoke of the pair being rats... Damen could help the apprentice he carried down, so he may fight, or he could just stand there, unaware of what to do, which was what he was doing now.

Fortunately, Damen didn't have to think long, for the knight was surrounded in blue crystal in hardly any time, that formed around him, before shattering once into a blade shape, then vanish... and though there were wounds all over his body, he seemed to be absolutely still as he stood there. Damen recognized that sword technique, however; Wiegraf used it once on Damen during training, and that happened to be Judgment Blade, and it could cause absolute stop for a short while. Sure enough, it seemed Wiefgraf had offered his assistance to his sister, and was now arriving to lend his aid to his apprentice. "Ser Wiegraf-" The apprentice saw the knight raise a finger, still clasping his sword, before running it through the back of the completely vulnerable knight, to which he would fall lifeless.

"Take Grimhilt down below, and inform the others that the fortress is ours once again; the timing of the Beoulves and the Order of the Northern Sky couldn't have been much better. Why they opted to take a different route is questioning, but they have done their part, with no casualties on our side, it seems." Wiegraf spoke to Damen, as he would face the remaining knight, who opted to retreat than to face the white knight head-on... but took the moogle with him, after stuffing the small creature into a bag they carried. Wiegraf didn't seem to pursue him, however, merely allowing him to flee the scene instead... though the woman seemed to have been left, completely unharmed at that.
 
Before Lydalia could face off with anymore knights, the battle was over, thanks to the arrival of more allies. A female knight and her squire, an archer as well as a young woman and a…Moogle? Lydalia blinked a few times at that. She had understood that moogles were extinct beings, whose spirits could be called upon by summoners. But it was gone before she could question it, and really, there were more important matters to attend to, at the moment.

Turning, she checked on the chemist, having heard sounds of struggle from that direction, after the monk charged past her while she traded blows with the knight. He seemed okay, if a bit shaken up and winded. Still, she offered him a hand up, “I think one of our comrades needs healing up ahead. Or, at least I hope she is a comrade. If nothing else, she is an enemy of my enemy. Our enemy.”

Not including the Masters, there were now six of them, though it seemed the woman in the barrel was merely a commoner who got mixed up in the battle and hid here for safety. Still, not counting that woman, it seemed they were up to four squires, and a chemist.

In the aftermath of the battle it only made sense to group and take stock of their situation. Still, Lydalia took the moment to gloat. “The Ordallian scum doesn’t stand a chance before the might of Ivalice!” she declared in triumph of their combined victory, spitting on the body of a nearby enemy. “We worked well together, and I am sure we can bring even more glory to our home and our names as a unit. Since the ambush got in the way of introductions, along me to begin, Lydalia Riovanes. ”
 
As suddenly as it started, it was over.

Piero sat, pale and shaking and struggling with nausea, still gripping the bloody Blind Blade in his hand. Apprenticeship hadn't prepared him for this. It had been mostly theory, learning alchemy and the fundamental concepts of magic, and some weapons training. But this had been his first fight. He'd expected... hell, he didn't know what he'd expected.

It was a relief when the red-haired apprentice to Sir Tengille pulled him to his feet and pointed him at the axe-wielding new arrival. Action - in this case, doing what he'd trained to do - helped ease the feeling of pounding terror and confusion. Her wound proved to be ugly and bloody, but shallow. "Hold still," he said, threading a needle. "This'll hurt, but if I don't stitch it up it'll scar badly."

Cleaning blood away once more, he set to work. "Tell me," he said, talking as a distraction from the needlework, "are you part of our unit? Oh, and I forget my manners. I'm Piero Gallo, apprentice to Calculator Mage Avelia Udinesi and the squad medic." With that, he tied off the stitches and cut the thread. "Oh, and we're done."

Nearby, the redhead was talking of glory and the might of Ivalice. Stirring, patriotic words that made him nod in agreement. They had done well, hadn't they? Still... "i'm sure we will, Squire Lydalia. Now get over here and let me see that arm. You won't find much glory if that cut festers."
 
Molina could only blink at all that happened, it went a little too fast for the blonde, but she could make out that pom-pom as the guy ran away with her mentor. Having no idea what he'd want with a moogle, but he wasn't getting away with it for long.


"Uhhhmmm...what just happened, kupo?" she asked no one in particular as she looked at the rest of the group who seemed more occupied with their own problems. "Uhhh...." she did feel a little dizzy from all this commotion, "Who were those people..who are you? and why are you in my home, kupo?" she stood there, hands on her hips, making that shapely pair of hers wobble some.
 
With the main excitement over, Imos let the heroes preach their greatness and the Chemists do their thing to heal the other squires, he himself had been late to the party, even if he managed to claim a few victims on the field.

Walking up to the fallen on the field he began searching the bodies of the ordallians for any possible valuables, taking a few trinkets and pieces of jewelry from them, the clothes and armor were damaged and relatively worthless, as for the weaponry, he was sure those would be noticed missing if any superiors decided to loot.
"healing potions, antidotes, eyedrops... these guys were outfitted reasonably well."

grabbing one each he returned to the others, spotting the endowed blonde and hearing her words.

"Your home, huh? well, terribly sorry for barging in from all sides like this, the Ordallian's, those people, were not exactly inclined to invite us for tea.
We are Soldiers from Ivalice, their enemies, and were to meet up here to form an army."

he looks over to the others.
"and from what I've seen so far, a pretty powerful army at that."

turning back to her he extends a hand
"the name is Imos, son of none, scoundrel. what's your name, mylady?"
 
Archie had been marching with the main force for a while. He traveled with Sir Tobias Oaks, as his square and many time scout as well. He was there to keep an eye on things and pay attention the everything. As a their he had been good at paying attention to the world. It really helped when he was stealing money or food even that he would need. He used that skill a great deal in his life as he was a square. His unique skills had gotten him this chance and he would help his boss and mentor anyway he could.

As a result he want in the front when they went to battle as an reinforcing unit. He was in the back of the force with Sir Oaks. He saw the dead bodies and looked for messages thanhenwould fine. Information of greater things and plans that he could give to his boss who then would be able to use this to help the army and make more of a name for his own family and thus helping him advance himself as well. He found some letters and papers and put them in a bag he had over his shoulder as the unit went into town. He would read the letters later and find out if there would be anything that he would need to tell to Sir Oaks.
 
Damen would see to it that Grimhilt would get treatment for her injuries; they had been significant enough that it rendered her unconscious, but she would live if they were treated for immediately. The blond acolyte hoped that his assistance towards her would get her back on her feet in no time, but... he really didn't know, to be absolutely sure. He was a squire, not a medical unit, so recovery wasn't his practice... though, perhaps before he would set out, maybe he could ask one of the others who did practice in medicine to teach him the basics in it. The apprentice truly did not wish for a repeat here out in the field, for there were not an army that would aid them besides their own selves.

It would seem that Wiegraf's sister, Milleuda headed to see to her apprentice's recovery as well, but in this war, there was no time to wait for complete recoveries if trying to regain ground. That was the rule of the war; one must advance to keep the edge, else they would lose what they strode for. Listening to the squire boast about their victory, Damen would nod. "If it had not been for the main force that marched through the back, though... we'd have lost due to the sheer numbers within the fort. We were lucky a majority of the Order of the Northern Sky arrived when they did." Damen pointed out, nodding as he did. "As for an introduction, I'm Damen Cortrova, the only son of Alexander Cortrova. An apprentice such as yourselves, gifted in a small handful of enchantment spells; should your blades need the added power, you need only stand by me in battle." As Damen said his introduction, he placed a gloved hand to chest, and gave a polite bow to the others. Certainly well-mannered, even when he was trained for combat.

He did turn to face the woman, whom was speaking in a very odd manner, and the very one that had her moogle companion taken from her. She certainly seemed lost, but the way she was ending her sentences... Damen had read about it before, how moogles always ended their sentences with 'kupo'. The word itself had no meaning, at least to humans, though it set the moogles apart for humans; indeed, the species was unheard of, believed to have all but vanished. "Her manner of speech is definitely peculiar; if I could guess, the moogle that the knight took may have been at least one of the ones to have raised her, for only moogles end their sentences with 'kupo'. I read it from a text somewhere..." Damen spoke to the archer that stepped in late, but aided them significantly nonetheless with his bio-infused arrows, before he would turn to the blonde woman. "Are you... not concerned that your moogle-friend was just... Mog-napped, pardon the poor pun?" Damen had brought Grimhilt down from the wall, however, so he didn't see precisely the direction the knight ran off with them. Wiegraf did remain, though surely such matters was not vital towards him, surely. Mayhaps he headed off to speak with the other generals, and sure enough, Damen would approach the slain monk that Piero fended off; she seemed to have commanded the group that ambushed them, for he read that unarmed monks hit harder than sword-wielding knights at times, so long as they have brave hearts.

Checking in the pockets of her gi, however, he couldn't find anything, no information whatsoever... This really left them in a standstill of sorts, but Damen didn't wish to leave the woman without her companion; for all he knew, that moogle may have some kind of information that can help them. They seemed to be here before the Ordallians made this their settlement, so he can assume they had an idea of where they came from. Such information may be obtained if they rescue the moogle... alas, it was a poor decision to not even watch where the kidnapper ran off to. Damen could only pray that Wiegraf had watched; after all, his mentor never attacked the knight when they captured the moogle, so he must have his reasons to have done so. For now, it seemed to be a recollection period of the current situation.
 
Another noble, and a handful of commoners. Still, Lydalia took it in stride. Wiegraf and Milleuda were common folk, and both had rose a respectful amount in the war. If commoners could gain the respect of nobles with their skills in battle, than surely a noble from a disgraced family could rise in status as well.

The medic, Piero, suggested looking at her own wound, a remark that drew her from her reflecting. As adrenaline from the battle coursed through her veins, she had forgotten about her injury, finding she was suddenly aware of the warm blood soaking into her battledress.

“Naught but a scratch,” she argued half heartedly, before offering her arm up for inspection. She watched the other squire, the commoner who referred to himself as a scoundrel, noting the fresh supplies he took off the dead. Her gut reaction was disgust, but after a brief moment’s consideration, she could see the reasoning in it. The dead certainly didn’t need it, and Ordallian’s did have good iron…

“It is most unfornate about the… moogle,” she addressed the buxom maid, hesitating to say the word. It felt like a fairy tale, the sort that older kids were admonished for continuing to believe in. Still, what she had seen could not be argued with. “I can’t imagine the Ordallian dogs have any good intentions towards it.”
 
"No such thing as 'just a scratch'," Piero answered without hesitation. Peeling back Lydalia's blood-soaked sleeve, he examined the cut with a critical eye and nodded to himself. "Shouldn't need stitches, but it'll scar. And this'll sting." With that he removed a cloth from a belt pouch and soaked it with one if the flasks he carried, then cleaned the long cut carefully. Finally, he bound it tightly with a linen bandage.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Squire Imos. Squire Damen." He glanced at the strange woman who'd joined them, barely registering her as he thought. He was far from the observational and tactical master that his Mistress was, but he'd been trained in the arts of memory. In his mind's eye he was wslking the halls of his Palace of Memory, viewing the crystal that stored the endless seconds of the battle...

He blinked. "The Ordallian knight that took the Moogle fled through the eastern gate eight minutes ago. He was running - approximately 54 inches per pace and one pace every 4 seconds. That means..." Pursing his lips, he calculated furiously. "He's no more than one and a quarter miles away. But with a prize like a live Moogle he'll double back at some point and head east. Make for Ordallia."

Realization flamed in his eyes. "If we act now, we can catch him!"
 
Molina smiled gently. "Oh..ah moogles are more resilient than they look, kupo." She nodded and crossed her arms. "But I think he'll need help regardless, kupo."

"Mmm...well I've lived here with other moogles for..well far back as I can remember, kupo. There's even a secret passage out the back, kupo, which what everyone else used...they should be back before long, kupo."

She wasn't sure why the others seemed awestruck by the fact there being a moogle around "I take it we're not a normal sight where everybody is from, kupo?" her tilted her head a little, causing her ponytail to bob.


"And I smell chocobo....kweh."
 
At hearing both that the knight could be caught and "chocobo" in close proximity, Imos quickly found himself feeling inspired.

"Well, if we're all agreed on the matter of saving the cute little guy we shouldn't stand around, a few of us who came by chocobo should mount up again and cut the Knight off while the rest boxes him in from behind."

finishing the sentence he whistles and the same chocobo that brought him steps up to his side. While clearly not a combat trained example of its' species it was obviously fast enough to catch up to and get ahead of the knight.

mounting up he looks around for any other volunteers to ride out.
 
Archie looked around the city, the signs of war were there of course as he gathered up information, on dead bodies, that he searched though, his hands pressing against the clothes and bags. He left items worth a lot more then the notes of face value. They were not worth going after, other then a few coins that would tell him where they came from, and keep for his own extra needs when he had extra needs to handle. He found a handful of notes of merit, letters between people to tell them where supplies were going, where men were going and where they planned attacks and defenses in the future. These notes were on the fancy dressed members of the dead corps. He put the notes all in an bag as he wondered heading to a room that was empty and seemed unused at least for the moment.

He put his things on one of the tables and reread though the notes, making notes based on them and the information he gathered. He wrote notes on the notes, on the intelligence as well. He figured that he would be able to get that intel to his boss who would then pass it along and he needed it to be formal, and he figured that he could put his intelligence to use for his boss as he saw his mentor. He figured this would help him advance in rank and prestige which would in turn help him as he served the Oak family. He also knew that with this information they could be able change a course of the war, and help bring the war to an end faster, and he would be able to return home or to the estate of the Oak family to serve them directly.
 
Listening around, Damen took on consideration of the words of others; between Lydalia's uncertainty to the existence of creatures like Moogles when they were believed to have vanished, to Piero's reckless idea to make chase after the knight, alongside Imos agreeing with him, on top of it, the woman who seemed to explain this was hers and home of others... to which at this point, Damen could only assume she meant other Moogles. To think that all of this was happening in such a short frame of time, the blond squire could only think of the possibilities. If they did make chase on their chocobo mounts, surely they would catch up with the knight effortlessly, and be able to get back before dark if the fight progresses smoothly. However, Damen didn't like the idea of this; what if the knight expected to have been followed, or others have escaped the fort alongside him? Either way, he and they would have to traverse through a marsh, which for sure would slow a human down, especially those clad in armor, but not so much for the large yellow birds that served as mounts.

"Piero, I would like to agree with you there, but I'm cautious to think that this could end up a trap we'll be walking into. Even with all of us, the knight has the resources to take the life of a hostage if need be to ensure his safety back to Ordallian territory. On top of it, we do not know what sort of creatures we may happen upon while we rush after him; there are plenty of risks, and we're only apprentices. Though our talents have brought us all together so we may work together, I can't shake the feeling that something ill lays in wait for us without at least informing a mentor of ours of our objective, though even then, we would be having to wait for orders from a higher power. I do not think even the Beoulve, Lord and Knight Devout, Barbaneth, would allow our chase, despite his iron will of justice and righting wrongs." Damen knew the Beoulves, he never met them, but they have a rather strong reputation behind them of housing the best of the best knights for the Norther Sky Order. Barbaneth was the head of the house, with his sons, Zalbaag and Dycedarg both talented swordsmen in their own right.

"...And yet, Damen, you can see that leaving one, even a rare creature such as a moogle, can't just be tolerated either; one innocent life that did not deserve to be thrown into this conflict so suddenly." Damen turned around immediately at the voice, and took a step back; it was Wiegraf who spoke so calmly; it seemed he was close and heard the conversation being had. "But, you are intelligent to know that the moogle may have some very important information as to how the Ordallians slipped this far into Zeltennian territory without being caught, am I not wrong?" Damen wondered what Wiegraf was getting at in the first place, but when realization struck, he had the idea.

His mentor gave a brief grin, before a nod of his head with his closed hand over his chest as he spoke to his apprentice once more. "This will be your first of many tasks as you all reach the rank of knighthood, or successful magi; rescue the moogle without harm being brought upon it, as well as any information it may have to share as well, and come back to the fort safely. I shall see to it that you will have one more in your company to ensure your success further; he might be late in his arrival, but it's only a matter of speaking with his mentor, Ser Oaks, to make it official. You are to leave immediately... Before I forget..." Wiegraf would reach into his satchel, and pulled out a bag, and tossed it to Damen, whom caught it; immediately, by the weight, he knew what was within was gil. "Lord Barbaneth wanted to congratulate all of you in your survival against that ambush; the funds are small, but you are earning your keep by doing your part. You will be rewarded further when you return. Until then, I hope you survive to see that day, alongside your fellow allies." Wiegraf would make a small bow of his own, before he would leave to attend to other matters.

Damen was at a loss for words; it was made official, and under his mentor's words, they were to leave immediately. The blond acolyte hesitated momentarily, before he would give a whistle of his own, calling the very Chocobo that brought him here, and unlike his less than comfortable dismount, Damen got on the saddle without a hitch. "Well, we should head out immediately, in that case. The knight should be slowed by the swamp just east of here's uneven and wet grounds; we'll use that to our advantage. Imos, you're a good shot with that bow of yours, right? As we near it, you should find a place that is higher than most so you can get a full look of the grounds, while still able to get shots off to our knight friend, and any other allies he might have with him, using the winds as necessary to direct your shots." Damen was thinking like a tactician. He then turned to face Lydalia.

"Lady Lydalia, accompany Piero so should things turn sour, your blade will protect him, while his talents in potioncraft will aid in any injuries or ill effects you may receive." Lastly, he would turn to the girl who spoke in both Moogle tongue, and Chocobo speak, actually riding over to her. "You'll ride with me to get in front of the knight, so he will be boxed in by Lydalia and Piero from behind; if what Lord Wiegraf said is true, a sixth companion shall be fighting alongside us shortly. If you're trained in a blade, we'll make use of it; should you not, just provide what skills necessary that will support us in the best manner possible." Damen seemed to have the plan laid out; his father was a brilliant tactician, back when he was alive, however, the word of that ambush near Riovanes just was something that tugged at him, yet he knew he had to be strong; for Alexander's sake, and the lives of his mother, and two younger sisters.
 
Lydalia listened as Wiegraf gave them not so official permission to rescue the moogle. It was both a noble gesture, and a tactical one at the same time. And the rookie squire unit was the best situation with this mission. Damon took a leadership role, offering up tactical position for the group members, and while her position in the back alongside the chemist denied her personal glory, it was the best option for the unit. “It is a good plan Damon. No Ordallian dogs will get past me, and there will be no survivors this time.”

She watched the chocobos race off, and took stock of who remained behind. Piero, the chemist and medic, as well as the common woman who had made her home of the fort. She was their last line of defense. Well, Piero seemed to know how to handle a weapon, even managed to kill an unarmored woman, so he would be valuable back up at least. The woman wasn’t even dressed for combat, so the unit would have to ensure her safety.

Glancing on the ground, Lydalia picked up a shield from the Ordallian knight she killed, as well as his sword. It was good iron, better than the scraps given to the squires. Looking back at the ones she was charged with protecting, she just shrugged, “The dead certainly don’t need them, right? Now come on, and stay close. This is our chance to reclaim that moogle.”

(Lydalia changed her job to Knight)
 
"I suppose they don't," Piero agreed absently, eying a chocobo warily. He could ride, more or less, but he hadn't expected he would be riding now. His assumptions had been that they would walk, or run. Hhonestly, the great war birds made him nervous. "I... wait."

Something on one of the corpses caught his eye. Trotting over, he knelt and examined a pouch at one combatants hip. One marked with a woven emblam of a white feather. Inside sat two flasks of blood-red liquid. Corks popped as he sniffed the contents, and he nodded in satisfaction. "Potions," he said with satisfaction, tucking them into his satchel. "Ordallian brew, but potions. I thought I recognized the mark." He grinned at Lydalia. "The dead certainly don't need them."

Taking a breath, he cautiously approached the chocobo once more. It swiveled its head to watch him, huge eyes focusing in him above a huge axe-like beak. No, he didn't like them. It was paranoia, he was sure, but they always seemed to regard him as dinner. And the clumsy way he mounted, pulling up so he sprawled across the saddle before struggling to get his leg over the back - didn't help. The monster probably knew he wasn't comfortable in them, and was just waiting for a chance to strike.

Seating himself, he tried to look confident as he took his reins. "Squire Lydalia," he called. "Shall we go?"
 
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