#astrasword

[hresvelged]

Halfway to exiting the medical tent, a familiar visage gives Ayra pause. She hasn't seen Edelgard in nearly a year now, but it hardly seems to matter. For a split second they might as well have never left the ruined infirmary of Lilium, and before the swordswoman knows it she is at the student's bedside. She still remembers Edelgard's hands going cold in hers, and she feels the deranged impulse to take hold of them again to ensure they are still warm. She's being ridiculous, of course. This is only a mock battle, and even from here she can see that the girl has sustained no serious injury. Having left her sword on the field where Lachesis fell, she folds her hands in lieu of gripping its hit. "Long time no see, Edelgard. How do you fare? Although I wasn't able to watch either of your battles, I am sure you gave them your all."

As she is taken from her thoughts at the call of her name, warmth elevates to her features. She would be remiss to forget Professor Ayra— It is almost ironic that they continue to meet in these otherwise ill-befitting settings. She rather wishes she didn't have another memory of fear and demise torn in her mind, but she wasn't alone that time. This is where it differs.

She smiles to shoo away the thought.

"Hello, Professor. Thank you for the kind words." Edelgard shifts herself in her seated position, carefully sliding atop the edge of a cot. White locks fall away from her face. "When I caught news of your presence in this mock battle, I was hoping our paths would cross. I've been well." There is truth, but there is also an afterthought of lies she brushes past.

"I've heard your own strength has been formidable. Any house would be lucky to have you under their banner. The Black Eagles included, of course," she says with lightheartedness. "Regardless, I wish you luck in your upcoming match. You won't mind if I observe, will you?"

[yukyunotabibito]

📋 this is so funny please get her

Name: Ayra Issach.

Age: 23.

Gender: Female.

Class: Blue Lions. (Professor)

Notes:

A swordswoman, and a talented one at that to my observations. There seems to be a consistent scowl across her face when I have observed her. Perhaps she has noticed I am watching? She does not seem like a cruel woman though, even despite her expression. If she were to meet Kurthnaga, I would hope that she would treat him kindly at the very least.

[ulircursed]

♡ mananan would've made a better match for ayra i think (sorry andrei) but he didn't arrange a marriage at all so let's just roll with it

from here! holy shit who is this guy changing the hair color changed everything

(the twins are here too! yeah, they get three children bc i do not like to shadow realm one of a pair of twins. they look the same as they do in canon bless u ayra and ur black hair)

but oh god ok in this au, ring reacted faster than all the conspirators and actually advised kurth to bring an entourage to meet mananan at the edge of the ribaut clan before reptor could assassinate the isacchian king. they get their peace treaty and the war ends! in exchange, mananan agrees (is forced to agree) to send ayra to grannvale to marry. because... something something od holy blood. maybe they take shannan too. anyway they are basically political prisoners grannvale is just too polite to say so.

and so she is wed to andrei, as the son of duke ring. at this point in my hc he has been officially declared heir i think. andrei makes no attempt to treat ayra as anything but a political prisoner, knowing that the chances of him having a major blooded child with a minor blood from a whole 'nother crusader are slim to none. at the same time, with ring right there and no conspiracy on the horizon (yet), it's not like andrei will do anything too crazy of his own accord (i've said this before, but while his relationship with ring wasn't good, it also wasn't bad enough that he would've at all wanted to kill his father without an outside reason). so they have a child.

meet black haired 'scipio'

the kid is born with only minor od blood. this is not great for andrei's mental health, and andrei makes his disappointment known to the kid from the moment he is consciously aware of his surroundings. at the same time, political prisoner ayra wasn't exactly encouraged to form a bond with her child so he also doesn't have a mother's support throughout all this

he ends up inheriting his father's self-worth issues wholesale, but worse bc at least father had minor ullr blood??? he has Nothing except the Political Prisoner's Bad Blood. hates himself deeply but tries to keep up a haughty appearance to cover that up. inferiority-superiority complex to the extreme

he will become a master knight in this iteration. gotta prove himself and his nonexistent self-worth u know

a few years later, the twins are also born! they have minor ullr blood and andrei ends up deciding that's worse, the idea that ullr's legacy is being mixed with another crusader's blood. when i say he doesn't have a healthy attitude re: ullr this is what i mean. he ends up liking the twins even less than 'scipio', and edain is aware of this.

ANYWAY back to the lore. a large part of the tellius gen i asks is just figuring out how we even get here ahaha. eventually, the conspirators find a chance during a big event that andrei is expected to bring ayra, and assassinate kurth during that time, blaming the whole thing on ayra but also insinuating that chalphy and yngvi were in on it. they publicly execute ayra and order that mananan and mariccle answer for their family member's crimes or they'll like. kill shannan too.

at this point byron and ring figure out what's going on, and they rescue shannan and get sigurd to smuggle him out of the country using the excuse of political visits to the surrounding nations. the yied desert is no longer a viable route at this point bc reptor and lombard would have troops there to intercept them, so sigurd plans to get to isaach via going through verdane and agustria then getting a ship north to silesse and then to isaach. he leaves with some of his friends, edain included, and edain brings her niece and nephew the twins, thinking that this might make their cover story of innocent visits more convincing if they brought children along (shannan is also along but he's the whole point of the excursion so he has to hide at all times). andrei then kills ring, takes the duchy and throws in his lot with the conspiracy 'for yngvi's sake'. byron also is killed.

everything that happens in canon with sigurd's party happens at this point, even though it's a little bit late. manfroy pulls strings behind the scenes to convince both verdane and agustria that sigurd is here to conquer them instead of basically just. smuggling a small child. and so they run into Problems along the way. he meets deirdre, they have seliph, manfroy comes in with a steel chair, etc etc. anyway the gang is in silesse when they receive news that mananan and mariccle are both dead, isaach has officially fallen, and grannvale knows what sigurd and co are up to and they'd best come back before they're all labeled as traitors. chapter 5 happens and the people/kids who do escape originally still escape.

ok the story took a huge extra few years to get back on track but ultimately everything stays the same, except scipio now has black hair, od blood and hates himself more. sorry.

[ladyleonster]

"Ethlyn!" Ayra greets her friend with a smile. They had a grand time drinking together on her own birthday, and Ayra considered simply inviting her out again. But then, Eth might prefer to spend the day with family, so the swordswoman has brought the drinks to her instead. She holds out a wrapped bottle, hugging the shorter woman with her other arm. "Here. It's Isaachian liquor. I only went to Isaach or I would've brought you a drink from Chalphy or Leonster, but I hope you enjoy all the same."

"Ayra!" Ethlyn wraps her own arm around her friend with a laugh and a grin. She leans her head against Ayra's shoulder and happily takes the offered bottle, holding it up as though she might give a cheers with Ayra if she had a drink of her own.

It's a sweet thought that the other woman would think of Ethlyn's two homes but it's even sweeter that she gave her something of her own. She knows Ayra is just as passionate about her roots as she is hers.

"I'll love it, I'm sure. Thank you! And please, won't you share it with me sometime? I'd love your company and I bet you know the best ways to drink it!"

[nagaficat]

"Deirdre," Ayra approaches her friend with a smile, a wooden horse in one hand and a bouquet of wildflowers in the other. She herself has not yet given birth, but she finds joy in her friend's joy; she hopes that Deirdre will not mind that one of the gifts for her special day is meant for her infant son instead. "Since most of my skills involve blades," she winks, "I thought to carve a toy for your Seliph. As for the flowers... Well, I don't know the first thing about them, but I hope the ones I plucked are alright anyway. They could be weeds for all I know," she laughs before embracing Deirdre. "I had to get you something on this joyous day, though. Happy birthday, sister."

Ayra manages to find Deirdre in a moment of peace. An infant Seliph sleeps soundly in a bassinet by her bed and his tired mother is finally able to stretch out and relax with a book. It is difficult work taking care of someone so small and perhaps she does not help herself by refusing to allow him from her sight. There are many people who have offered to help her so she can take care of herself but she simply misses him too much. That and a dark cloud of worry threatens to overtake her that she might, one day lose him.

Do all new mothers feel such things?

Her face brightens when Ayra enters her room and grows brighter still to know her friend is not only thinking about her birthday but her darling son as well. She takes the horse first, running her hands over its smooth and polished surface. The craftsmanship is fantastic and she knows that love has gone into each stroke of Ayra's knife against the wood. "This is lovely. Have you shown Lord Sigurd yet? A little horse for little Seliph. Just like his father's!"

The flowers bloom in all sorts of shapes and colors and Deirdre knows they will brighten up the drab castle room. Even if Ayra claims she does not know about their meaning, Deirdre can appreciate that her friend would arrive to do something she knows she loves. "There is beauty in weeds, I think. They are strong and resilient, bringing their brightness to even the darkest and most drab places. I have always found them to be just as precious as any other flower. Thank you...sister."

[nagargent]

a question of perspective

Julia loiters outside Ayra's office for a while, unsure if she's really willing to take this step. The offer of company and understanding was almost impossible to resist. Yet her stomach feels heavy with the guilt of her shame. What kind of daughter was she, to harbour such doubts about her beloved mother? Things had built to a head where she'd felt the need to voice her frustrations, if only anonymously and without consequence for either of them. Nausea had gripped her stomach ever since, terrified someone would find out. Yet here she is, about to confess her sins to her mother's former friend.

Ayra's reply is clutched tightly in her hand. It seemingly takes all her strength to lift it up and knock at the door. She could run before the Princess of Isaach had the chance to welcome her in. Yet her feet don't move, glued do the ground as if she's been shackled to the spot.

She needs to do this - needs to speak to someone who won't immediately malign her. Someone she can trust to at least hear her out.

"H-Hello, Lady Ayra," Julia immediately bows her head, allowing her hair to fall forward like a silver shield. Her voice feels so small in her mouth as she tries to speak. She adores her mother, she shouldn't feel this way, she shouldn't be here but she simply cannot understand Deirdre's behaviour as of late. It was hardly a secret that her father and brother had done terrible things, things she loved them in spite of. Yet everyone she'd ever spoken to had praised her mother, lauded her as a saint, an angel walking the earth. How could she reconcile the mother she's believed in all these years with the woman making such cruel requests of her friends. "I hope I haven't come at an inconvenient time. I just... you mentioned your office was open."

Her palm opens, revealing the note. Julia swallows the lump in her throat. She loves her mother, she must be a wonderful person, yet...

"I came because I think we might both be speaking of the same person. It... it feels like I'm betraying her," Julia's voice shakes as she blinks back tears. She won't cry, she won't. "I just can't comprehend how she can be so selfish. I wish I could understand her... I wish I felt like anything I might say would matter."

"I'm sorry." Lifting her sleeves she dabs at her eyes and cheeks. So much for not crying. She feels like a foolish, insignificant child being so easily moved to tears. "I know-- I know she's probably not a topic you wish to discuss. I'm sorry for bothering you--"

[serraic]

@astrasword

It’s been a few days since she’s seen Erk. Only a few, and that shouldn’t be so unusual — but maybe... maybe Serra is feeling a little bit more, ah... clingy than usual, after their declaration of love. Really, who says they love someone and then disappears for days?

So she’s miffed! (And worried. And terrified.) And miffed, that’s what we’re going with outwardly, frown-y and angry and huff-y.

She goes to the first floor of the dormitory and starts asking around for which room is Erk’s. It isn’t long before she’s pointed towards the right place (though, by an individual that seems to almost regret having told her the moment they have).

Pale knuckles rap on the door insistently.

“Erk! Hello, are you home? Eeeeeeeerrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrkkkkk!”

[lordleonster]

" oi, quan! " she all but hollers at him in the distance, greeting him with an enthusiastic pat on the back once she's closer. " a love for competition runs in the family, does it? not only are you and ethlyn in this, but both your children too. you must be proud. " her fiery joy subsides into a warmth far gentler. " i noticed you're up against altena. that must be difficult as a father, especially since you didn't get to raise her either, right? if there's a way i can help, just let me know. "

"Ayra!" There's a shift. His brows releases from their taut line the moment his name crosses her lips. Her presence is an answer— a mist cleared over a very long winter. Relief is a feeling he’d love to keep reliving.  "I see you are well." Had any of their other comrades survived the war? Or was she the last mercy who had not followed him into the dark?

When King Mananan had been framed for a continued invasion over the Grannvale border, the young woman had been forced into a corner. But he had sought her out to understand, not to judge—to allow the light to shine over her situation. In that moment, he vowed to do what he could for her. And even now, though the circumstances had changed, he still felt the oath lodged in his chest. Like a phantom lung— to give her room to breathe as he breathed.

“Indeed. I suppose it’s quite the spectacle, to have the family each have a hand in this event. Though…”

Ayra’s intuition was spot on. In some ways, he didn’t wish to elaborate on how uncomfortable it was to be reintroduced to one’s family, only to fight them soon after. But he was certainly never one to deny a duel. Not when his daughter insisted upon it. He shakes his head, knowing fairly well that her courtesy was appreciated, but not warranted for a private affair.

Instead, he smiles. It’s a smile that makes sense of the world. And a smile that makes sense of the end of the world as they know it.

In many ways, their world no longer existed.

“Your presence is enough, Ayra. Just promise me a duel after I get this straightened out.”  

But they still had each other.

[sorcerese]

   ੈ‧₊ 。━━━━━ ✧⁺∗ ❛⠀ 、 ennui !

              it's all so mundane... when did she get tired of it  ?      when did she actually complain about quiet sunny days. she can't remember, but she knows the reason— it's not a good reason but one that was good enough to be one. she flops on the ground and closes her eyes against the spotty shade of the old oak tree, placing her arm over her face. she's still but only for a moment as her lips curl into each other and begins pouting.  the girl kicks her feet in the air like a silent tantrum, one arm reaches out as if to catch the light, then it flops back to her side. obviously failing; she throws her head back and letting out a frustrated groan into the gentle wind.   “   argh....... i'm boooooooooooooreddddddddddddd !!   ”   complaints finally vocalized, making her tantrum very audible. eyes shut once more both of palms slamming against her eyes and dragging them down to her cheeks. she never thought she's say it but weekends were so boring here, it's not like she can go visit home for a day or two. delthea rocks back and forth on the ground using her shoulders as it's balance. 

  “   this sucks !  i'm waaay too bored. there's no one to prank, no one to annoy without potentially getting my head chopped off or worse! like being chewed out by the knights or professors.... again...  ”   she sighs rather dramatically. the mage pauses and thinks about the worst that could happen. she gets mild chills upon thought then came to a conclusion. if it does hit rock-bottom, it wouldn't be awful if her head gets lobbed off. at best, she doesn't have to get lectured for 4 hours in a detention hall... or maybe, she should cut back on the troublemaking... but then that wouldn't fun now would it? mhm, yeah, no way.

ੈ‧₊ 。━━━━━ ✧⁺∗ ❛⠀ 、 starter for @astrasword !

[luminousrider]

" hello, altena. " ayra is cautiously friendly. unlike with most of her friends' children, she knows what happened to altena's parents. she knows the sort of resentment that a parent's death can invite, as well. for a moment she thinks of scáthach's eyes, and she almost regrets approaching the girl — or rather, the woman. " i'm ayra isaach. i knew you as a baby, and ... i thought to wish you luck. i see you've grown into a fine warrior, but you never know out there. may njörun guide your hand. "

Altena freezes. It is not the first time she has met someone as an adult who knew her as a child. Who had been friends with her parents. Who is friends with their parents. They are all here now, aren't they?

She doesn't need an introduction to know this woman is from Isaach. She's been dragged into enough things by Larcei to see the strong resemblance immediately. Her mother?

"My own will will guide my hand," she replies curtly. Ayra's sentimentality is not shared. She wonders if Njörun would even choose her to support or would her blessing go to her other scion. "I don't intend to lose."

[hresvelged]

@astrasword sent: The swordswoman is cautious when she approaches Edelgard, unsure of how one with her strength of will might react to a perceived enemy. Ayra cannot help but think that perhaps she ought to be avoiding her allies instead — but her concern for a student is greater than her misgivings. Besides, she has never been a coward. Yet despite these thoughts she remains perfectly composed, carrying herself with absolute confidence. She mustn't show weakness to a student, and certainly not to a foe. Gods willing the imperial princess will mind her injuries and stay her hand, but regardless, the fact is that Ayra must always uphold the pride of a warrior. "I am glad to see you alive, Edelgard," she says in lieu of a greeting, with complete sincerity, "even if injured. How are you holding up?"

Edelgard is constantly surrounded by an enemy, whether it be here or at Garreg Mach. There are very few in this world she trusts, finding herself speaking to those affiliated with the church on a near daily basis. That is simply the way things must be for now. She reminds herself of her goals every waking moment. There is no grander time for that than now.

When she is approached, those very same thoughts resurface in her mind. Despite the axe twists and injured soul, her mind must remain strong. This is a mission. She needs no assurance of such nor will she allow herself to be fooled so easily.

"I'm fine," she says despite needing time. Truth be told, she'd rather be anywhere else but the infirmary. It defeats the point of her venture. She knows not to push her boundaries, even so; The quicker she heals, the sooner she can solve this mystery for herself. She manages to inch herself upright, locking her eyes forward. "These injuries will heal." She has endured worse in her life, but cares not to share that with anyone— Especially not a forced visage liken to those who rule Fódlan atop their pedestals.

She notes the way the other holds herself, tall and prepared. When she locks eyes, she does her utmost to match. The headache pounds. "I presume this reflects poorly on the church."

[dollandour]

" hey. " the tournament has just ended, and ayra catches up with the champion of team od as she's leaving, her tone cool. " i'm ayra isaach, a sword instructor... and a descendant of the crusader od, as it happens. " she flashes the mage a quick grin. " congratulations on your victory. that was a good fight. "

The "champion" (one of several, technically) steps out of the dining hall, filled and refreshed with warm tea. Any other day she would have veered toward sugarless cocoa, but she did promise a round of tea with the others from her battle, both friend and foe. The drink definitely could have been worse, and she didn't realize how dreadful tossing wind waves in chilly winters was for her temperature before stepping back inside. Hopefully none of the other competitors noticed any feeble shivers as she made her exit.

Before she can make it back to her reserved corner of the grounds, another woman arrives to provide her own congrats. Though her reasoning is immediately made apparent upon the reveal of her own heritage. A descendent, eh? Sonya wonders if she was watching her bout the entire time - or at least as best as one could in the middle of harsh flurries. Even if not, her compliment sounds genuine, even through her more stern voice.

"It wasn't my cleanest, but my storm got us by," she lightly smiles, making sure to not belittle all of the praise. "Helps to have a partner who can take blows too."

Sonya didn't join this tournament to uphold a crusader she never heard of before, though the organizer boy's descriptions of Od's swordsmanship made for an interesting tale. If his claims are true, than this woman in front of her is capable of slashing at the speed of comets. Was she going to teach others a similar technique as an instructor? Somehow, the mage doubts it.

"You can call me Sonya. I know my way around black magic rather well. Oh, and I can swing a sword around too. Not as well as your ancestor, surely," she cannot deny her interest in Ayra nonetheless. Overwhelming speed was something that has helped Sonya out of scuffles before, and there was never anything wrong with picking up some more pointers, no?

[livingrief]

When Ayra first lays eyes on the blue-haired man closest to her on the dance floor, she does not recognize him immediately. She's aware of Finn's arrival at Garreg Mach, but the years that never touched her have taken their toll on him. All the same, she needs only a moment before her face shifts and she approaches him with a smile.

"Finn!" She says, clapping him on the shoulder. "It is good to see you again. How have you —" Ayra breaks off, for the music begins anew. That, and surely there are better questions to ask given the Aed Massacre and the fall of Leonster. She knows from experience that his life cannot have been easy. It will not do to mar his evening by inquiring, nor her own by thinking of the fall of Isaach like this. Her smile falters only for a brief instant before she recovers.

"I suppose we can talk as we dance. Have you been enjoying the evening?"

The dancing begins with the most elegant of tenors, but for all the beauty and splendor that the party exudes, Finn knows he is out of place. He does not belong here. Coming here was a mere formality after all - Lady Ethlyn requesting his presence herself. He dare not defy her dear wish.

But it was stifling, if he were to think on it too much. Uncomfortable, at the very least. Preaned and clean to the finest, sitting here with all that was important to him and a room full of Fodlan's finest. His skin itched in a way that could not be cured. His throat threatened to constrict. Now that he thought on, he was dreadfully thirsty.

Yes, he was versed in a little dance. But Finn wished for no part in it. He was of little mood to celebrate in the first place. And such an act was so intimate....

But to the dance floor he was pushed somehow. The music begins anew and people circle one another, touching, tasting, getting to know the finery. Finn is repulsed. He has known enough humanity for his lifetime. He yearns for nothing, for weightlessness and an absence of thought.

Somehow, someone calls his name amidst the cacophony of talk and dance. He glances up to see the swath of obsidian hair and eyes, stars for days. Lady Ayra. But nothing quite comes from his lips. She is so young and he has lived lifetimes past her. What is there to say?

But ever so elegantly, her smile shifts, like the swift cut of a swordblade. Finn's mouth stays firm. He will not allow himself to be vulnerable - even with a former comrade.

"Fine, of course. It is a pleasant banquet." Nothing to note. The music takes them for a few steps. "How are you, Lady Ayra? I hear Larcei and Scathach are at this academy. You must be overjoyed." Overjoyed. Yes, that was the word. He should be too. After all, all those dearest to him were here.

But he was not.

The dance ends in a lull and Finn offers a bow. "Allow me to part for the evening. It was a pleasant surprise to see you, Lady Ayra."

Eyes remain cold and distant, the storm rages inside his indigo vision an agony unto their own. 

[ladyleonster]

" ethlyn! " she's smiling before wrapping her friend up in a tight hug and giving her a pat on the back. when she draws back, her smile is more mischievous. " i'll be on the sidelines this time, but i'll be watching eagerly. you won't hold it against me if i cheer for team od, will you? he's my crusader, and mercedes is my student, so... " ayra trails off, laughing. " i'm kidding. i've been wishing all my students good luck, and our children as well. get out there and kick some ass, ethlyn! "

"I'd be disappointed if you didn't!" Ethlyn grins as she returns her friend's hug. "I might be representing Crusader Nál in this event but my heart's routing for team Baldr!"

She's glad to see Ayra becoming so invested in her students here at the academy. It is a shame her own children are both members of a different house but she hopes they still might have the chance to learn from Ayra. Hell, she might even try to sit in on some of her classes as well.

"Oh you know I won't give this anything less than my best!" She's always been competitive. "Did you see Quan and Altena are competing as well? They've been matched against each other. I'm not sure who I'm supposed to be routing for. And it's my Leif who put this whole thing together! I've got a lot to be proud of right now."

[duskofendflame]

When the music stops once more, Ayra finds that the man closest to her is her fellow sword instructor, whom she has only met in passing since her arrival all those moons ago. Now is as good a time as any to rectify that.

"Good evening, Corrin," she greets as she approaches him, not yet extending her hand. A smile plays on her lips, small as it is. "Might I have this dance?"

Corrin laughs softly at the approach of his fellow professor, her steely grey eyes level with his own as they meet. Regretfully, he has not had much of a chance to speak to her, outside of nods in passing, but he had peeked in on a class of hers once or twice, and found himself quite impressed with her skill. He would certainly like to observe her swordplay more closely in the future, were he ever to find the free time to sit properly in on her class and observe her in action.

"Gladly. It would be my honor."

[rozyrne]

WAIT, AT SOME POINT, THEY'D LOST TRACK OF NANNA!⠀✩⠀"oh no, emblem claude, where'd she go?" he'd promised the professor and everything that he'd watch out for her. since the horn had blown again, they'd fought through a couple more enemies, retreating where they needed to, but sending a couple more from the other houses packing to their flag tents! they made a pretty good team, and emblem claude was just as clever as the hero spirit he remembered, even if he'd never spent as much time with him as he did with emblem leif and emblem eirika.

just as they're thinking about taking a break to check on how things are going though, a few new people show up around a mound of barricades set up by the blue lions. uh oh, had they ended up too deep in blue territory?

"heads up! we've got enemies incoming!"

but hand slackens around the haft of his axe when he spots two pretty intimidating figures greeting them. they. . . had to be——both professors, right? man, how was that fair. . . ?

he steals a quick glance at claude, then remembers: he's the front liner! claude had an axe now too, but with his bow and that new fiery stuff, still best if he stayed in the back to provide backup, right? "leave it to me!" so he's rushing in with a determined set of his mouth instead, eager to prove he can do just as good a job as last time.⠀(⠀and if there's any shouts to watch out or not rush in, he doesn't hear it.⠀)

"the deer are here! take this!"

ROSADO misses AYRA with IRON AXE ( 3 ) 　　　↳⠀COMBAT ART: SMASH activates. 　　　↳⠀AYRA 5/5hp.

oh man, that lady's fast. wuh-oh—

THIS IS FOR MY REPORT CARD!

✩ .　BOEL 2025⠀∶⠀round 2, battle 17.