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[artificidel]

With Pasithee detained, they were not sure what they were doing anymore

They had thought they wanted her dead (or imprisoned as their new master had ordered.) But seeing her darkened eyes and emaciated limbs bound in chains and locked behind doors brought no satisfaction nor peace.

If anything, it felt like a dull reminder of what she had told them many moons ago.

'You will only ever be as the world sees you.'

A thief, a villain, a murderer. The underling to always bring lost canaries back to their cages.

It was not even so much that revenge was not sated, but instead, that sickness and disgust swirled within them.

Looking to her felt like looking into a twisted mirror (the same sort they had to look in when they first arrived at Garreg Mach.) Ephidel thought they had slowly began to understand themselves, when truly, the numbers at their nape singed hotter, and the collar 'round their neck pulled tighter. They were still just as lost and craving approval as in their last life. Lashing out in violence like it was the only thing they knew.

... Their tenure at the central church had been fulfilled months ago, and they were free to rise to the position of priest if they liked. But maybe they lingered because it was simply... interesting. Interesting to live among humans and enemies and other strange new acquaintances.

Perhaps even a little fun.

But debts still needed to be owed (a servant to the very end it seemed.) Their work with Bishop Sinclair still needed to be finished. Even if this life she had given them was meaningless, it was more than falling to ruin in the snows of Faerghus.

Ephidel respectfully asked for their leave, and headed north.

Maybe when their service had finally been paid, they would return. To enjoy a little bit more fun.

[artificidel]

'Return to my embrace, Ephidel.' Lord Nergal's voice echoes, 'return to the warmth of my love.'

The promise of it continues to be all too tempting.

Celephais 28.5/30HP casts Painless World on the party! [Roll: 14 - 4 = 10; Hit] Ephidel is inflicted with -6 dexterity for their next turn.

His arms surround his creation, long fingernails dragging up their limbs and almost consuming them entirely. 'To your Master, to your God.'

Yet, again the thought is cemented in Ephidel's mind that they can not fulfill his wishes. Not of their true god, not even to the illusion of him. In both, they were a failure. They did not deserve him; but his false-master was right about one thing.

Ephidel struggled back to their feet.

Ephidel does NOT sync with the vengeful spirit of Nergal

They were not meant to heal; made only to destroy. Pasithee herself had proven as much to the morph. And then that fire began to burn within them again, and with it, a will and desire formed on their own. Outside of purpose. Outside of loyalty and servitude. Outside of Lord Nergal or the church or existence itself.

Ephidel wanted to dismantle this illusion, not for the church, but to prove the inherent treachery Pasithee saw in them. To be the thief she had branded them as months prior. To snatch away what ever they could of her remaining happiness.

Ephidel staggered forward, Fimbulvetr coalescing in their grasp.

Ephidel 10/10HP attacks Celephais 18.5/30HP with Fimbulvetr at melee range! Heartseeker activates! [Roll: 7 + 2 = 9; -2.5HP] Post-Apocalyptic Savior activates! [Roll: 1, hit! -2.5HP, Celephais 16/30HP] ; Celephais is frozen! Celephais is unable to counterattack! Poison Strike activates! -1HP, Celephais 15/30HP

The tundra strikes true, and encases Celephais in solid ice. Ephidel would find Pasithee. They would find her and destroy her with hands made only to kill.

murder is a long-term investment

team theta | week three

[artificidel]

As Ephidel feels the wounds of the bow knight ease, he finally looks at them with something other than distain. In exchange, there is a quiet curiosity the morph had not felt for him since they first met.

But there is little time to dwell upon it, the battle still rages on, and at the heart of it lies Celephias. She lets out wave after wave of apathy, and it staggers the morph to their knees this time.

[Roll: 12 - 6 = 6; Hit] Ephidel is inflicted with -6 dexterity for his next turn.

Through the haze, they can sense someone near, someone speaking, but it reaches them as though muffled beneath the snow. Their gilded gaze follows the sound and finds Chrom speaking to them, but they can not make anything out through their wavering vision.

The one thing they can sense however is his weakening quintessence, it still clings stubbornly to the prince. Ephidel outstretches their palm, following the only order that makes sense, but this time, it faulters.

 Ephidel 10/10HP uses Recover on Chrom 4.5/10HP [Roll: 1 - 4 = -3; +0, Chrom 4.5/10HP]

It almost feels as though Lord Nergal is pulling them back.

'You were made to destroy,' he says, 'never to soothe. Return to my embrace, Ephidel.'

murder is a long-term investment

team theta | week three

[artificidel]

On the third night, Keranes returns with her army, and it seems as though their final battle is close at hand. The walls of Rusalka yield easily to the might of nightmares, but everything--even their very mission--slowly cease to matter. Victory is nigh, yet the peace of submission and a dreamless sleep is all too tempting.

Purpose is the only thing that has ever driven Ephidel. When the hand of Lord Nergal commanding them was lost, they sought a new master in the Archbishop. It is that incessant need to serve that gives them will at all.

As the walls collapse and the Outsiders charge the village, one of them jogs to the morph's side and gives a hearty slap to their shoulder, grin pulled wide. Forsyth, they recall, as well as the kindness he had shown. Worrying for them as their edges frayed. Ephidel can see that same fraying in Forsyth now, and returns the sentiment in kind. Taking hold of the hand at their shoulder and spilling faith into him.

Ephidel 9/10HP casts Recover on Forsyth 5/10HP [Roll: 6; +4, Forsyth 9/10HP]

The body of Garreg Mach find each other again, and though brief, it is not limited those still of the living. The spirit of Lord Nergal surrounds Ephidel, and they are once again overwhelmed by the warmth of his smile and hands, no matter how ethereal they may feel.

The din of battle is silent behind his Master's gaze of affection. Purpose may be what drives Ephidel, but it was always purpose for the sake of his Lord's love.

Ephidel could have it here... the happiness his Lord wished for them...

Celephais 25/25HP casts Painless World on the party! x3 [Roll: 20 - 4 = 16; Crit] Ephidel is inflicted with -6 dexterity and -4 speed for his next turn. [Roll: 3 - 4 = -1; Miss] Ephidel is unaffected, remaining at -6 dexterity and -4 speed for his next turn. [Roll: 7 - 4 = 3; Miss] Ephidel is unaffected, remaining at -6 dexterity and -4 speed for his next turn.

But Selena's voice breaks them from their reverie. She did not seem to trust them last they spoke... yet now, behind the command of her tone was the softness of faith.

'I trust you to help him out.'

Then further, the voice of another--Chrom--pleads for Ephidel's aid.

'...we need your help! ... We need you! ... Please, you're our... only hope... I beg you...'

... Ephidel turns to Andrei. They hate him. They hate the distain they always see when his eyes are pointed towards the morph.

Perhaps Lord Nergal wanted happiness for his creation, but joy... joy was something Ephidel could not understand.

Fear however, fear was something they knew intimately, the same fear of death painted across the man's features. Even if it was just the illusion of love, the illusion of purpose, Ephidel could not fulfill it.

They may be a failure as a morph, but maybe they could be a success in something else. Something small, but real.

Palm outstretched towards the bow knight, Ephidel fulfilled their new purpose sworn to the church. To heal the broken.

Ephidel 9/10HP heals Andrei 3/10HP with Recover [Roll: 15 - 6 = 9; +4, Andrei 7/10HP]

murder is a long-term investment

team theta | week three

[artificidel]

"I do not know if I am skilled enough to heal the mind," Ephidel admitted softly, taking the offered bloom from Naesala and ensuring they had all the proper herbs. "but speaking may at least lessen its burdens. It is part of the clergy's duty to bear that weight."

Ephidel doesn't entirely expect Naesala to take the offer, but it is there for him if he likes. The morph sets to work grinding the flowers together in companionable silence. Eventually producing one of the group's concoctions to compare to the balm and ensure its quality. Blessedly, they matched.

Content with their work, Ephidel began to spread the previous concoction over their damaged joints, so that the vial may be reused for the fresh one.

Ephidel used a Concoction Roll 1d20: 18 +6HP Ephidel's HP 9.5/10

Their damaged soothed and a concoction made, Ephidel looked out towards the horizon and began to speak again.

"I thought you were selfish at first. Destroying his body and endangering our mission, but having lost Lord Nergal, I understand. Someone finding their own dear one more valuable than another's?"

They could not see a world outside themselves, or perhaps, they simply refused to see it. Now that anger they felt towards Lord Nergal's killer was turned inwards at Reyson's.

"You were right. If the world will take their lives, then they do not deserve their bodies."

Ephidel cared not for the rest of their group right now, unsure who was their master's killer. But for Naesala, they may accept any retribution. Even if Naesala had been the one to take Lord Nergal, it was deserved.

❝ ( 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘤 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘷𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘭 )

[ WEEK TWO ] -- medicine thread w/Ephidel

[artificidel]

Fate was bound to force them together at some point. Pride, thick in their throat, still hoped against it. They could walk away, damn them all for their sins, (themselves included) but that fear for self preservation gnawed at them. They would silence it forcefully.

"I am." They said, joining Naesala's side and placing down stones that could loosely work as mortar and pestle. "I am one of few with healing experience."

Time and again, Ephidel only proved themselves to be an agent of destruction and hate without Lord Nergal's hands guiding them. They wished so dearly to hold on to the illusion of purpose and love that they would do anything to keep it, despite it long since vanishing. Their view so narrow that no one else mattered until they were upon the receiving end.

Someone deciding their beloved person worth more than another's. Naesala would hate them if he knew. Ephidel does not blame him, but they do not think it would bring him peace either.

They eyed him sidelong. "That experience not limited to those of the body." They said, plucking a bloom from his pile.

❝ ( 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘤 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘷𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘭 )

[ WEEK TWO ] -- medicine thread w/Ephidel

[artificidel]

Ephidel could not be sure what was still driving them. Perhaps only their basest imperative to survive, but even that ceased to matter in the wake of their Master's death.

In the recesses of their mind, they knew him to be a false image of Lord Nergal. But that fact could not eliminate the smolder of fire that still lingered in their core.

Emotions were illogical; Ephidel had long understood this. Used it constantly to their advantage, and it made the sting of them falling prey to their grasp all the more sharp.

Perhaps it was that then, the fear of death still pushing them on despite no reason to. Work may at least distract from those thoughts, give them the smallest sense of purpose even to those who may have been the ones to snatch it.

In the wilds beyond Rusalka's gates, the only tools were makeshift. The morph set to work building their collective shelter with scraps of collected wood and stones turned hammer and nails.

Mindlessly, they struck their own digit as they worked, then staring as though it was completely incomprehensible.

Roll 1d6: 2 -0.5HP Ephidel's HP 4.5/10

Their focus--their mind--was slipping.

the outsiders and i made some figgy pudding - theta open

shelter building; 10 wood to complete; roll 1d6; heavy armor rank C +1 modifier -1-3: take -0.5 damage -4-5: -1 wood but unable to roll next turn -6: -2 wood

[artificidel]

it has solidified in you, body and mind

[artificidel]

The wind around Ephidel eventually fades, as does the fire within him, but it does not die so completely. Those hot coals remain within his core, they reside next to the lightning that still paralyzes him at times. A hand goes to his chest.

With the fire now smoldering, it had simply left Ephidel feeling weak; he looks back up to Lord Nergal. Serene despite his wounds. It takes the morph a while to rearticulate his legs and stand back upon them, before slowly walking towards his fallen Lord.

The robe is removed from Ephidel's shoulders, before he wraps it around the open wound (Lord Nergal should not be seen in such an ugly state.) Perhaps it is all too fitting. When Ephidel first woke, his Master swathed him in a velvety cloak (the one torn and thread-bare he still kept in the bottom drawer.) Now Ephidel would carry his Master into death with another.

He hefted his Lord over his shoulder, and without a word to Andrei, walked back towards Rusalka. The other could stay, he could follow, he could cut Ephidel down for all it mattered, and now he thought better of Naesala. Understood the selfishness behind his actions.

His Master's body would not be taken. He would encase it in ice and guard it night and day if that's what it took.

It was nightfall when he finally reached the village's gates.

end

do we really need the buddy system

Investigate outside the village walls - Lose -1 Public Opinion per post - Once you reach 5 posts in the thread, ping N.

[artificidel]

"i wish happiness for you"

[artificidel]

Staggered to his knees, it takes Ephidel a moment to recover. The attack had broke his anger and focus, but as the morph stood back on both legs, each spiked anew, reaching their final apex.

His anger boiled over, clarity sharpened his mind, and his spell was aimed at one of the last remaining trees.

Prayer Ring heals Ephidel for 1HP! 8/10HP Ephidel 8/10HP critically hits Corpse Tree C 5/5HP with Fimbulvetr at melee range [Roll: 20 + 6 = 26; -5, Corpse Tree C 0/5HP] Corpse Tree C has been defeated! Corpse Tree C drops three yellow dream crystals!

But again, its allies retaliated. The final tree snapping its limbs at Ephidel's leg, staggering him fully to the ground.

It was more of a struggle to stand back up now, as he was beginning to feel the effects of his damage.

The rage inside him began to simmer, as the winds around them slowed.

Corpse Tree D 5/5HP hits Ephidel 8/10HP with Ruinous Branches [Roll: 17 - 4 = 13; -2, Ephidel 6/10HP] Ephidel is unable to counterattack!

do we really need the buddy system

Investigate outside the village walls - Lose -1 Public Opinion per post - Once you reach 5 posts in the thread, ping N.

[artificidel]

His neck snapped to Andrei at an unsettling rate when he called for the morph. Ephidel's stare never being more piercing. It was a warning, if Andrei dared to cross him. The Duke had never entertained Ephidel's whims nor held his trust before, why should he extend it back now?

Without breaking eye contact, Fimbulvetr was focused enough and shot at the enemy.

Prayer Ring heals Ephidel for 1HP! Ephidel 9/10HP Ephidel 9/10HP hits Corpse Tree B 5/5HP with Fimbulvetr [Roll: 7 + 6 = 13; -2.5, Corpse Tree B 2.5/5HP] Poison Strike activates! Corpse Tree B 1.5/5HP

The direct hit sent snow crystals crawling up the capillaries of the tree trunk, eventually leaving it frozen over solid.

Corpse Tree B is Frozen! Corpse Tree B is unable to counterattack!

Then the enemy was upon him again, branches snapping forward. While only one set managed to connect, it was aimed squarely at his center. Momentarily staggering him and weakening the storm.

Corpse Tree A 3/5HP hits Ephidel 9/10HP with Ruinous Branches [Roll: 12 - 4 = 8; -2, Ephidel 7/10HP] Ephidel is unable to counterattack!

After a moment's recovery, Fimbulvetr was charged in his grasp again.

do we really need the buddy system

Investigate outside the village walls - Lose -1 Public Opinion per post - Once you reach 5 posts in the thread, ping N.

[artificidel]

He had saw it long before Andrei pointed it out, his words distant and muted beneath the gravity of it all.

There, at the very edge of this clearing, he lay. Purples blooming across his throat, and reds dripping from his breast. Despite his serene expression, as though napping blissfully in the sun, there was no question about it.

Heat did not radiate from him. There was no pulse of energy. His quintessence--long held dear, as though a hearth often warmed by--was gone.

It was gone. He was gone.

He

was gone.

Embers from that hearth spat over, leaving red hot coals upon the ground. Coals that Ephidel grasped at--even as they burned his limbs and caught on his sleeves--for even just the smallest thing to keep. And keep it he did. The embers did not die with Lord Nergal, Ephidel was merely their kindling.

If the Dragon's Gate had felt like lightning that wracked his frame immovable, then this was an all consuming fire. Heat burned white-hot in his core even as ice crystalized up his limbs. A chill fell over the forest. Frigid winds whipped up all around them.

"Who did this." He murmured.

Who did this to him? Who could kill a god? Who snatched away Ephidel's entire reason for being? He was meant to protect him, die for his sake. How could he outlive his very purpose?

"Who did this." Ephidel said louder, but no less chilling. The winds whipped harder, and the air around him began to freeze.

Without Lord Nergal, he had nothing. Without Lord Nergal, he was nothing.

"I w i l l f i n d y o u." He boomed, in a way that reverberated much larger than his frame. A frame that could now barely contain him.

Fimbulvetr was let loose, buffeting everything around him.

"W h e r e a r e y o u?!"

Emotion Unlocked

Rage

As if to answer and stop the blizzard consuming their home, the trees seemed to twist to life, and just beyond, dark shadows skulked from their roots.

They began to attack, branches snapping at Ephidel and tearing his vestment. Fimbulvetr swirled faster, but lost in rage as he was, he could not focus the spell properly against the enemy.

Corpse Tree A hits Ephidel 10/10HP with Ruinous Branches at Range+ [Roll: 17 - 4 = 13; -2, Ephidel 8/10HP] Ephidel is unable to counterattack!

do we really need the buddy system

Investigate outside the village walls - Lose -1 Public Opinion per post - Once you reach 5 posts in the thread, ping N.

[artificidel]

Observing human behavior and learning from it was one of the most intrinsic things to Ephidel. Any time the morph could find a subject in their most candid state, he took particular care to study them.

Light-footed as he was, it was not long before Selena sensed his presence and turned with sharp reflexes. She clearly had the skills of a well worn general, but Ephidel did not flinch before her sudden attention. He merely blinked owlishly as she asked her question.

"Indeed," He spoke softly, stepping forward and beginning to roll up his sleeves for work. "I am a deacon of her faithful, well versed in the healing arts. So I was asked to assist in preparing medicine."

Chemistry was admittedly one of Ephidel's weakest areas of healing knowledge--lacking taste and bodily functions to metabolize tinctures made such work difficult--but he had begun to learn more of it from Lady Deirdre.

The morph joins the Fluorspar then at her invitation, taking up an area for his own work, and regards her one last lingering time. Staring for perhaps an uncomfortable length of time.

"... There is a meticulousness in your work." He observes, not meaning it as either a compliment or insult.

cough cough milord

apollyon ouranos; team theta making medicine; +1 public opinion per post; one concoction every 5 posts

[artificidel]

Amusement pulls lightly at the edges of Ephidel from Andrei's rise. The morph had little interest in the man's Lady Sister (for now, at the very least) but he would do well to remember where he stood. Just as vulnerable as the rest of them if Lady Brigid ended on the wrong side of someone.

"As I was." He assures, brushing past the bow knight. However, he need not walk far, as just beyond their meeting place, signs of something being dragged can be seen. Ephidel looks in the direction they lead, telling Andrei "You are free to join me." before setting off that way. It is said more in courtesy, the morph will go on with or without him.

do we really need the buddy system

Investigate outside the village walls - Lose -1 Public Opinion per post - Once you reach 5 posts in the thread, ping N.

[artificidel]

Ephidel pays little mind to anything outside his goals. Even being directly addressed he hardly acknowledges. Merely listens to what is said, but does not deign the voice with a glance.

"Lord Andrei." He replies, but his tone is not filled with the usual false cheer or deference. "My Master. Lord Nergal."

That morning had been a whirlwind. His lord had been bedridden due to sickness, and Reyson's arrival and subsequent immolation had dashed the importance behind his death.

One less body meant one more must be taken, and he feared for his Master's life. The moment Ephidel had learned of Lord Nergal's disappearance was the moment he began to search beyond the village. "He is missing," Ephidel went on barely above a shaky whisper, "and I fear the worst."

Then as Andrei's words settled more in the morph's mind, he realized the hypocrisy in them, and finally came to evenly regard the Duke.

"One could ask the same of you, my lord. What has become of your Lady Sister?"

do we really need the buddy system

Investigate outside the village walls - Lose -1 Public Opinion per post - Once you reach 5 posts in the thread, ping N.

[artificidel]

There is little to be done now with the heron's body destroyed, but the morph still seethes in disgust. Naesala's actions costing them one body to see their goal done, and thus more eyes potentially landing on Lord Nergal.

The raven dragging them all down with his loss. He was right about one thing at least, Reyson's constitution made him the perfect target, but there was no malice in the deed.

His wings clipped only because they were a reminder of another dove, and Ephidel discarded them outside the village walls. Hoping vainly that it would be enough for Keranes's sacrifice.

The villagers do not dare disturb the raven's wake, but Ephidel cares not for such selfish mourning. "A pyre is all too fitting. You'd burn the world sooner than let it have him."

Naesala has not looked away once from Reyson's body since he lit it on fire. The gold hair curls and singes, bubbling his skin and eating away at what parts of his body remains.

Reyson was a holy thing, once. Coveted and loved and torn apart for it -- whatever pieces others wish to carve from his flesh will be taken with little resistance. Tibarn would have kept him safe. Naesala could not.

He vows to find the wings. Add them to the fire, if he can.

"Beorc will do such violent things to herons who cannot retaliate," he says, and his voice is cold. "They cannot have him. They don't deserve him."