#toaharmonia

[aimlessarchery]

dark blades, thundering...staves? | TOAHarmonia Thrud vs Hoðr

w/ @hosannan , @pridelessdaydreamer , @shadoll

The summoning horn blares once more, signaling the start of combat. Colorful decorations hanging from the walls sway from the breeze as the door to the training grounds closes, keeping the sharpest bite of the blizzard outside at bay for the combatants and spectators alike. Python eyes his opponents warily as they take to the floor. Two students with two staves. With nothing sharp to defend themselves with, it looks like an easy victory at a glance. However, the light magic they wield means they could mend each others wounds effortlessly. Python's instincts tell him his flippant remark earlier was more accurate than he thought—they really should end this as quickly as possible. "Sorry about this," he calls out breezily, only sounding about half-sincere as he draws his bow and points it at the boy with the forest green hair. "I've got a nap scheduled later that I really don't wanna miss. I'm sure you'd understand."

Python 7/7 HP hits Linhardt 8.5/8.5 HP with Blue Bow [Roll 11, -2 HP; Linhardt 6.5/8.5 HP]

He tilts his head toward his partner with a grin. "You ready to go? I was only half-kidding about that nap plan, y'know."

[hosannan]

" hello, nanna. " ayra smiles warmly, though she takes care not to be overly familiar. it never stops being awkward, meeting her friends' children all grown and not quite knowing what to expect. even so, she can't just stay away. she loves every one of these children like her own. ( she failed every one of them like her own. ) this is a time for celebration, though. " i'm ayra isaach. your mother and i are close, so i thought to come by and wish you luck in the tournament. take care out there. "

"...Oh my!" It was almost frightening how Nanna could trace just how much of her children had been drawn out of her. Raising her hand to shroud her gasp, she blinked once to see Larcei. Twice to see Scathach. Before the woman before her emerged from both their visages, like a secret spring from a well. "...It is lovely to be in your company, Miss Ayra—I assume it hasn't been very long since your arrival?" That was the pattern of this odd academy: one day the sanctity of life and death is in balance, the next day it topples onto one side.

Nanna reached out, to hold her hand, to make something of her presence here. For all the troubles that were wrought from the generation prior to her own, Nanna still wished for them to know that they would be welcomed into her heart. For hers was a hearth still warm for a past she had not lived.

"Oh, but please, do make yourself comfortable on the stands. I've been trying to hone my swordsmanship to be worthy of my mother's sword." She tilted her head back, towards the sword securely tucked into its scabbard.

Before the bell tolls, calling her towards the combat grounds, she lingers to a stop with a thought that suddenly snaked into her mind. "Oh right. He is a good comrade, by all means, but I thought I ought to tell you just in case he blindsides you in the future."

The laughter in her voice fizzles, unsure how the woman would take it. "There's a man who is the splitting image of Lord Shannan roaming the lands of Thracia. I don't suppose you know a Shannam, do you?"

"Well, if you see him before I do, tell him Nanna hopes he's staying out of trouble." And she smiled bright enough to topple the sun. "And to you, Miss Ayra: a promise that I'm getting into as much trouble as he's staying out of."

[luminousrider]

“The way you all showed up together,” Sara muses as though trying to grasp air, something that she cannot entirely understand that slips through her fingers the harder she tries. “Family…”

She does not know every detail of how Leif and Altena ended up as strangers to each other nor does she even really care to be privy to them, but Leif hardly knows his sister any better than Sara does.

“I do not need to tell you about the Crusader Bragi, do I? Anyone who spends more than a day in Jugdral has surely heard of him. Even I know of Bragi and of the church he founded. Do you still keep in touch with Coirpre or is your real family more important? I’m not criticizing you, I’m just curious - how strongly one’s blood calls.”

“Ah, I still need to tell you about your partner. Her name is Camilla. Look for tresses a shade off from mine. She’s nice. Apparently, she comes from a large family. She said she is sure you won't disappoint her. I don't think you will either.”

I’ve brought the equipment you asked for: Iron Lance (Blue) Ignis (Offensive Special) grants an additional 0.5 to damage dealt Rally Speed (Assist) grants 3 speed Defense+ grants 1 defense However, if you’ve had a change of heart since signing up, you should tell either me or Lord Leif right away and we can exchange it for you.

Your real family.

Sara's words freeze the blood in Altena's veins. She knows she means her biological family, her birth family, but to hear them referred to as real feels wrong. It's such a simple word but it's powerful enough to erase every happy moment from her life growing up as Thracia's princess if she does not correct it.

"Both of my families are real." She does not intend to speak with as much defensive venom as she does but she cannot help but think about Arion and Coirpre too. Even if she hadn't been raised as Coirpre's sister she'd always considered him something of a younger brother. Both of them deserve far more than to be considered anything less than real. Both of them receive regular letters from her. More than she ever has for Leif.

She sent letters ahead of her return home the last time she had been in Fódlan.

She left without a word to Leif. Let him find out on his own that she'd returned to Thracia.

But she came back. For him. She signed up for this tournament because he had a hand in running it. She's here because he's her brother even if she hasn't been much of a sister. Maybe now is the chance to start.

She sighs. Sara has been there for Leif more than she ever could and, really, she is glad that her brother has someone like her in his life even if that someone isn't herself.

"I know Camilla. We've fought together before. And no, I won't disappoint any of you."

[viridescent-lance]

"sir forsyth." edain approaches him before the competition starts. she remembers him from when he'd protected her during the church's mission in deirdriu. he certainly had the courage that ullr was known to have. "you're a good fit for the crusader ullr." she smiles lightly. "you may not wield the power of a bow like she, but your courage and sense of duty is just like her. i'm confident you'll represent my blood well." she hopes these to be words of encouragement for him.

"Lady Edain! It is wonderful to see you." The priestess had served by him valiantly in Derdriu, and he has seen her in passing since. She hails from Jugdral, and he feels honored to have her blessing for this battle--especially as it seems he has been assigned the banner of her ancestor. "I appreciate your vote of confidence. I hope to do her memory proud alongside Sir Quan."

A bow and a sense of duty, huh? Perhaps if you combined Python and Forsyth, you could approximate something adjacent to Ullr. Would it be sacrilege to comment that? He feels a smile cross his lips, but holds his tongue. He does not wish to minimize any important Jugdrali traditions.

"I shall do my utmost, for the honor of Ullr!"

[aglaean]

" l'arachel! so you signed up for the tournament, eh? " honestly, ayra is not sure she's prepared for her student's particular brand of over-the-top enthusiasm, but she's been going to everyone. it would hardly be fair to leave this one out, even if she's boisterous. ayra smiles. " i'm sure you don't need any encouragement, what with your confidence, but as your instructor i wanted to give it anyway. good luck. i look forward to seeing how you'll fare. " and seeing whether she can walk her talk.

'But of course! I shall do my best to represent the Blue Lions, and my darling nation of Rausten by giving the troubadours feats that they shall one day sing to legions of willing ears!'

That her sword instructor had come to give her a send-off was not (though perhaps it should have been) a surprise to L'Arachel. No doubt, this woman who wielded swords as sharply as she did her steely glares had found within her a kindred talent! After how marvellously she had wielded a sword in their sessions (she had only dropped the blade five whole times!) it was more an inevitability than a question of when her natural talent would be recognised.

Though, even as this event was no surprise to L'Arachel, that rare flash of a smile, as bright and as piercing as the sun reflecting off a blade on the battlefield - that left her floundering slightly. 'Ah, well, indeed! Do not fear for me, professor, I shall dazzle my foes with pure fervour!' She exclaimed, extending a hand in a slightly self-conscious, theatrical way. 'They shall weep in an ecstacy of joy at the opportunity to face me', however, was said without a hint of irony. Such was the confidence of one blessed by the Gods!

[lordleonster]

Altena remembers, fondly, the first time her father--her adoptive father--ever challenged her to a spar. She was young. She'd only been training with a lance for a short time but she and her brother--her adoptive brother--were told to work together to take him down. They'd lost horribly and walked away covered in scrapes and bruises but they were determined to keep training and working together to one day win.

He'd been so proud the day they finally did. Loudly proclaimed how proud Njörun and Dáinn would be to see their scions finally join together again. Altena was proud too.

She wonders now, having been matched against her birth father in a tournament, if he would have challenged her and Leif similarly. Would they have laughed together as he bested them time and time again? Would she and Leif have grown closer because of it? Become friends?

It's pointless to continue wondering such things. Pondering on what ifs or contemplating simpler and happier times will do nothing to help her prepare for her fight.

She approaches her father, the man whose blood she shares, with eyes narrowed in determination. "I will cut you down. Do not hold anything back." Her honor as a proud Thracian is at stake and she does not intend on losing.

He hails his heritage in pride, despite manning the flag of another crusader for this event. But first, comes the deeply frown set in his expression, over the arrangement that fixed Njörun and Dáinn against each other. And again, when his own team was forced into the arena with his own daughter's. Could the scions have been watching? Ordaining his resurrection an unsanctioned one? Whatever it was, he was struck with the overwhelming desire to protect his daughter, with his life. To even draw a blade against her was out of the question.

But the way she hardened her tone nearly disrupted his warm gaze, if he wasn't primed with an answer at the tip of his tongue. "You must enjoy dueling, just like your father, hm?" He smirks without vanity, hearty and true. "I will choose my battles wisely, even in a duel with you, Altena."

It's non-partial, that answer of his. Neither a yes or no—for her sake, all for her sake. He most certainly would not cut his daughter down, not when all his paternal affection prioritized her safety over even his own. But, he was not going to patronize her either, especially when she struck out of line to make her competitive streak known. "I've heard you've grown into a formidable warrior. I know you mean to rouse me, but understand my position. I will not go out of my way to hurt you."

"Do you understand me?"

His heart is still. Steady. With his head tall, shoulders straight, and the call of Njörun beating like a banner over his head. There's a spark within him that makes his question feel like thunder. "If you do, then do as you will."

"I will be proud of you, either way." And finally, a smile. So it goes, softer this time. He's hardly smiled as much as he has in quite a long time. Strange.

There's a tinge of amusement in his voice.

"And before you get upset, know: I do honor a good spar. I'll try to make it worth your while."

[higaneion]

“Oh, hello— you’ll be representing the Crusader Fjalar, right?” For a moment she is shocked at the sight of such a young girl as her opponent. Really it shouldn’t be so surprising— Eirika herself had begun her own training at a rather young age as well.

She hates to think of why a girl her age would be here, however. All she can hope for was that it was strictly a want and not a necessity to grow stronger.

“My name is Eirika. I’ll be one of your opponents today. My partner and I represent Ced! I’ve heard that we will both be representing powerful mages, so let’s do our very best in today’s battle!”

“Hello Eirika—we’re in the same house, no? I’m afraid I haven't had the chance to introduce myself prior to our meeting today, but,” she places a hand over her chest and dips her head in a bow, “my name is Lilina.” 

The lady, Eirika, was a little older than herself that much she could tell. Maybe after their rounds of friendly fire she could find her later and converse. There is a gentle but strong aura she radiates that Lilina can only help but admire. “Right, well, best of luck to us both!”

[gentlenekomata]

Sakura, the name of his partner for the student-lead event. They had never met prior, so he appreciated Leif’s description, even if it was… vague. Nonetheless, he thinks he recalls her name as another foreign member of the church, so that is where he first goes to search. He spots her, or at least, he thinks he does, a head of pinkish... auburn hair. She looks much younger than he would have thought, and smaller. 

“Greetings… are you Sakura?” Thinking back to the message he had been delivered, he smiles gently. “I am Sephiran- I believe we are partners for the Harmonia event?”

After receiving the instructions from Sara, Sakura decided to took action and searched for her newly acquired companion, a very fascinating personality actually, since she heard a lot about him: he was a charming member of the church of Seiros, even though he travelled from a foreign region, much like Sakura actually, but as far as she knew, very little was known about his past. That was the perfect opportunity to make a new friend and maybe even a mentor of some sort: she actually has seen him in action, during her patrols in the church and she has been fascinated by the delightful attitude he had around people.

Yet, even before she could actually began her search, a voice collected her attention and as soon as she turned, she faced a very good-looking man, tall, with long dark hair and two penetrating eyes that got Sakura almost immediately in defenceless mode.

“Y-Yes, I’m Sakura, my utter pleasure to finally meet you, Lord Sephiran” she clumsily made a short bow, though immediately standing up again to fully replied to his question, “And yes, I was told the same, so I guess we are partner in this curious event, correct?” she sketched a smile as well, though not matching the radiant aura emanating from his.

Soon after their greetings, Sakura noticed the weapon he has chosen, “A staff, isn’t it?” she asked, curious about his role, “I’m very familiar with that too” she giggled, then showing off the weapon she has chosen, a small and petite bow, “But this time, I’ve decided to take some more action” and she passed it through her hands, looking at it with genuine hope: she wasn’t a skilled archer like her brother, but she wished to be more proficient with it.

“Luckily for us, we have a way to cure ourself too!”

[hosannan]

"Hey partner. Your buddy Leif told me you liked the outfits." He recalls the student's demeanor with a tilt of his head. They'd spent some time together between classes and extended (nightmarish) assignments, but he's not sure he'd seen the boy so bashful before. "He speaks highly of you. I think he might've even gotten a little pink in the face about it."

He shifts his weight, shoving his hands into the pockets of his trousers. The line between nosiness and matchmaking can be a thin one, and he prefers to stay on the former side. Best to leave it there.

"Anyhow, I'm not much for fashion, but these getups are…alright, I guess? I could do without a heavy cape, though. Weighs the bow arm down." He rotates a shoulder, as if to shrug off the burden before it's even placed upon him.

"..." Her laughter is contained in a smile on the verge of breaking, though she held herself together for propriety's sake. It was quite easy to read her face, however much she attempted to mask her amusement. "Is that so?" Her smile only widened, ears sporting the same pink Lord Leif likely was. "Well, thank you for the report, instructor. It's endearing, isn't it?" Goodness. She pressed her hand onto her cheek, cupping half her smile thoughtfully, as she knit together this flushed image of her ever-gracious Lord Leif. Ha!

"I can only hope you don't tease him too much for it, later on. Lord Leif means to flatter me." Sometimes unintentionally, but still, the more she spoke to people the more she wondered if he wore his feelings on his sleeve. Endearing. "Ah...! Yes, the outfits! Lord Leif and Sara were sporting garbs similar to that of our forefathers. And I thought, perhaps I could extend the favor to you."

Her eyes lit up, recalling one of her first memories at this school. "Remember those sketches I drew out for you? I use them as drafts to design outfits... though my tailoring still requires some more practice."

He made a point to indicate his bowing arm, normally plated on the shoulders and draped with skin-tight, stretchable fabric. She blinked, taking quiet note of it. A smile emerged as soon as she pictured him with a comically heavy cape, dragging across the floor like bricks.

"...Right," Her voice checks off something from a mental list. "No capes."

"Sara told me you wanted to get the round over quick, actually. That's a relief, since..." Well, all they had been doing was fighting lately. "I'd like the same."

"...The fighting never quite stops does it?"

She didn't expect much of an answer from it, because she already knew it by heart. But, clasping her hands together in prayer, Nanna exhaled with a quiet smile. "Hmm."

"Maybe some new boots, too." She commented, off-handedly. "We could all use a lighter step in our day."

[aglaean]

“L’Arachel,” the Renais Princess smiles towards her companion..though there is the slightest of strain, “you would not know how thankful I am to finally be fighting alongside someone I know. I suppose this is what you would consider to be ‘providence’.” The arena had been a test of sorts, and though it hadn’t been something she couldn’t handle, it was still much more refreshing to be working with a familiar face.

And despite that fact she still carried the telltale signs of worry on her expression. “All of this talk of crusaders is fitting for you, isn’t it? But, still..let’s do our best to not take it too far. After all, it would..be very troublesome if our opponents found out they were against such formidable foes!”

'Princess!' The title was shocked out of L'Arachel in a blend of word-association turned muscle memory; a prompt ready and waiting whenever she glimpsed that familiar blue hair. 'That is to say,' she halted in her forward charge towards the woman to take her hands, 'Eirika. You are erudite as ever! This truly is the work of divine providence. Our meeting must've been inscribed in the stars itself! It was only a matter of time.'

Worry was not in L'Arachel's rather extensive vocabulary, nor, unfortunately was restraint. But, she'd known Eirika long enough to recognise that slightly pinched expression which had crossed her face as less than joyous. Aiming for reassurance, she twirled her staff with a grin, unable to restrain the thrill buzzing through her skin at being reunited. 'Indeed, and we shall prove a truly ferocious duo!' Seeing the concern intensify on Eirika's face, she lowered the staff. That was evidently not the right answer. She cleared her throat. 'Ah, your mind for strategy shows your nobility! Yes, whilst I am unaccustomed to hiding such radiance, perhaps working our victory through subtlety would be best!'

[lordleonster]

"Hail and well met, Sir Quan!" Forsyth has heard the man is Leif's father, and thus Altena's as well? He must be an honorable man, to be Lady Ethlyn's husband and have raised such fine children. And he extended an offer to teach Forsyth about the Jugdralian history that has inspired this tournament! "It is good to see you."

"I heard from your son, Lord Leif, that you were interested in relaying history from your homeland to me?" Forsyth nods, motioning for Quan to take the seat beside him. He's prepared pen and paper for taking notes, and two cups of tea. This first impression shall go swimmingly! "I would be more than willing to listen, if that is your desire!"

"Well met, Sir Forsyth the True!" He meets the man's vigor in full— a stern, reassured smile adorning his face. Quan raises his chin to acknowledge him, much like a brother-in-arms. Something about his brow suggests familiarity, though he hails from a different country than Thracia. "However far we go in this competition, I promise to be at your side." The gravity of a promise is present, for Quan valued the cooperative measures his son had implemented for the upcoming battles. And, really, he had been waiting for an opportunity to duel, again, after all this time. It was the best way to get his blood roaring, and the best way to judge if he was still in good condition to serve his people back home.

"Indeed! I had written you quite the passage, though I hear the same goes for you. Miss Sara informed me of your eagerness. I suppose we both talked at length, hm?" The amusement staggers forth from this dark brown irises, sizing the man up. Forsyth's energy was quite contagious, wasn't it? "You remind me of a number of friends, back home." Present-tense. He had a peculiar feeling that they would be joining him, in this strange purgatory of an academy. "My son must have given you a summary of the whole situation, but..." He eyes the cups of tea and acquiesces, brandishing a proud grin to manifest the honor and sorrow of his nation.

"Since you are so inclined," He gestures to the recliners in the lounge, priming him for a long, fascinating story ahead. "After you."

[higaneion]

“ So we're to be partners together? ”  Pelleas appraises the young noble once he finds her. He clutches his tome a little more tightly against himself before continuing,  “ I assume you heard a little bit about me already since I heard a little bit about you. I'm honestly probably a little in over my head with this, but I'll try my best to support you. If nothing else, I'm pretty used to fighting in the cold, so I hopefully won't completely freeze out there, hahaha... ha... ”

The laugh comes out as awkward as he feels before eventually fading into nothing, accompanied with the deep way his expression falls, showing him for the apprehensive person he is.

“ ... My apologies that you had to be assigned to me. I'll try not to make this too regrettable an experience. ”

"We've met before," she muses just a little too loud. She was told the name and it played on her mind that she’s heard it before, maybe even spoken it. Had it been truly just a dream? The shadow puppets were hard to forget and were it not for their unique circumstances, she would have asked him more about it. 

           It is when she sees her partner before her that the gears click right into place. A miserable-looking man was an accurate, if not a bit harsh, description. The way he speaks and presents himself lends her to affirming this conclusion. Could that be the effect of dark magic or something else that weighs a heavy burden? 

           “Ah, forgive me. It is that sense of déjà vu, Pelleas.” Lilina gives a short bow. When she straightens, her hand closes in a fist of encouragement and a kind smile graces her features. “Anyway, let’s do our best! I think we will make a good team. If you get cold, I specialize in fire magic so I’m sure freezing will be the least of our worries.”

[higaneion]

Sara looks just a touch conflicted as she approaches, dragging her feet through the snowfall.

“Lilina, it has been decided you will be representing…” Her nose wrinkles and the expression she adopts seems almost sympathetic for some reason. “The Crusader Fjalar. She was an inspired mage whose flames were said to be able to purge the unholy and, to this day, has ties to the royal family. Its reputation has since fallen after the Imperial Prince was dethroned."

There is more she could tell Lilina if she wished to yet the words - the anger - does not come. Her head shakes, laughter finding its way to the surface.

“Your partner will be a miserable-looking individual by the name Pelleas. He wishes to reassure you that he will try not to be in your way, but for all his whingeing, he is no amateur. If your interest in dark magic has persisted since last we spoke, he would not be the worst person to ask. I am certain the two of you will go far in the festival considering your abilities. I believe in you,” she says, resolutely and hearteningly. “Your power, your inner fire, it is warm and bright.”

The equipment you desired should all be here:

Anima Magic (Green Tome) Luna (Offensive Special) ignores opponent's defense and resistance Rally Attack (Assist) grants +0.5 damage to ally Speed+ grants 1 speed

However, if you’ve had a change of heart since signing up, you should tell either me or Lord Leif right away and we can exchange it for you.

The change of inflection in her voice does not go past her notice, nor does the slight pause, the wrinkle in her nose. The Imperial Prince dethroned, she says, and as a result the lineage is cast with a tainted reputation. Just like… Lilina closes her eyes briefly; she pities him… for whatever may have happened and hopes that they both may find peace be it in the afterlife or repentance. 

           There’s a niggling curiosity that pokes at her, wants to probe for more information, but it is best she leaves it alone for now. Maybe she could ask another time. It was almost time for the tournament to begin anyhow. 

           Pelleas. The name strikes her as familiar, but she couldn’t put a face to the name ( not yet anyway ). But if Sara is confident in his abilities then she should have no problem in relying on him in combat.

           “Sara?” she calls as the mage begins to make her leave. “Thank you. And… We may not see each other in the tournament, but I believe in you too.”

[hosannan]

"This is so like you," Sara notes, laughter chasing a remark that is said just this side of irreverent. "You're here for Lord Leif." Because Leif needs Nanna, just as he needs Sara too. She does not know which she envies more - Nanna for being needed or Leif for having so long-standing and intimate a connection with Nanna.

I’ve brought the equipment you asked for: Iron Sword (Red) Miracle (Defensive special) Can survive a single lethal attack with 1HP Pivot (Assist) Takes the hit for ally and counters if range requirement met Speed+ grants 1 speed However, if you’ve had a change of heart since signing up, you should tell either me or Lord Leif right away and we can exchange it for you.

Anyway, you must wish to hear your assignment. You are to represent a crusader that you are already quite familiar with. It's Höðr naturally and there is not a single thing I could tell you that you do not know. A shame when I went to the trouble of memorizing everything Lord Leif said…

As for your partner, he's a professor for the Golden Deer house so it is likely you are acquainted. The name Python is rather delightful, don’t you think? Though he did not sound all that enthused to be participating. He has asked if you could end your match swiftly, but that will be up to your opponents. Fufufu...

( with love, nanna )