Open - Honor Thy Enemy (18+, Mild Gore)

(This thread has been made in accordance to Zelrius' Death Affliction; Death Warden.
Any and all are free to and encouraged to join, recount the events of the Siege from your Character's perspective, and even give a short description of what they did following those events. You're also free to interact/react to and with anything that happens in this thread, please just remain Reasonable in doing so.)

The battle was won, and the sun rose promptly over the no-longer burning city of Dormont. The Falderen troops retreated, the full implications of which had yet to be felt. Zelrius assumed that meant that the Assassination team had won, and if not, they'd be in a lot of trouble once thousands of Soldiers showed back up in Stokbon to witness a fight in the palace. He had only hoped, the D'Vangelline's sake, that they had completed the task hastily, after the way of the tunnel had been clear. He drew his Outlaw's Cutlass from the Wolf-Queen Snefrid's skull, Where he had left it while the battle wrapped up in the pursuing hours. The man recalled driving through the blade through the Wolf's body, without a second thought. There was no true motive, or atleast, no conscious one behind this action, he had simply done it out of sheer exhaustion. More than anything, he wanted the fight to be over, and for him to be able to return to the sleep inn in Brisshal he considered home. So, he had forced Mizuki and Alonso to stop diddle-fucking around with their enemy, and finished her off himself. Though now his heart hung heavy with regret for doing so.

There was no room in his heart for dreams or ambition at this moment; the man only wanted rest. This was driven by a great many factors. First, the in-game systems; A depleted stat-track. All the meters of his were long in the redzone, and even now Zelrius could hear the light thumping of his heart. His energy was even emptier; having tore his way through the Tunnels with his team, only to be kicked out and then forced to move quite a distance to join up with the siege, and then promptly beginning to fight his way through their rear and onto the wall that he was trying to defend. One melee after another, and what felt like a thousand years after he had gotten there, the Wolf Troop showed up, with their Princess in tow. Or did she show up with them in tow? The answer of which didn't matter, but another outlandishly long stretch of time occurred where the man recalled slicing through Wolf after Wolf, feeling guiltier with each time he did so.

The man dropped all thoughts of his lowered meters; now feeling a strong compulsion to do something about the dead and rotting enemies. One by one, The golden haired man began to actively seek out and gather all the corpses he had created with his own blades. Though, to be quite honest, he had no idea how his eyes were identifying which ones belonged to him, and which ones didn't. It was a strange phenomenon, but he certainly felt game influence; a feeling he had been gathering since his encounter with the Witch for her precious Mini-pet Egg.

Yet, even understanding that such an influence was being had on him, he fought it in no way, desiring nothing more than to honor those who had fallen. It didn't take long, Zelrius hadn't exactly been slaughtering enemies, but he gathered up the fair few he had slain, some of their bodies already beginning the decomposition process, some being slowed behind that point by the frigid Late-Autumn air. Now was for the elaborate part, as he built a ring of those bodies on piles of weapons and wood that had been collected from the broken down siege engines, one by one stacking wood and bodies and steel in a semi-sophisticated fashion. A wheel formation was formed, and in the dirt, with his heels, Zelrius drew Roman Numerals counting all the way to Twelve, the wheel of carcasses and fallen trees now resembling a clock, somewhat.

With that, in the middle he built a small tower of sorts; that of which ended at his eye level, laying out a bed with his coat on it, making a real final resting place for his slain Opponent. And with that, he went and tried to look for the Lunatic Princess' carcass alone, his intention to put at the center of this Pyre as a ritual of sorts.

His intention was to burn the bodies, now searching for the one who the idea was for.

@Lucia Mierz

 

Blood.

That was what had remained afterwards. Stone from the broken and tortured wall they had been defending, steel from the mangled and blunted weapons that had been used to defend it and assault it, and the blood of both those who had died and those who were still alive. The smell of blood was everywhere, thick with iron and invading every nose, reminding everyone who was still capable of remembering that even though in the end the battle had been won for the defenders, and many lives had been saved by those who had been able to slay the mad king, there had still been a cost, a cost of many, many lives both of those who had been controlled by the king and those who had opposed him to the very end.

The rage which had been fuelling Mizuki's body after it had already been battered beyond the point where it was safe to keep moving had died out. Even though at one point the flames had burned so fiercely that it had felt like she was going to be burned alive from within, it had all ebbed away when the one she had been so determined to kill had actually been slain. Her focus had been beyond reason, but now that the subject of her focus was gone there was no rage any more. The berserkergang had left Mizuki exhausted, having difficulty moving even a little bit as she had collapsed near the person who could have been the death of everyone on the walls if she hadn't been killed first.

Mizuki wasn't sure if it mattered or not that she hadn't been the one to land the final blow. She didn't know for sure why she had been so focused either. Her memories of when she was consumed by her thirst for blood were incredibly hazy. She mostly remembered the rage, the pain, the heat and the knowledge that whatever else happened she'd see Snefrid dead. But she couldn't think of a solid reason why she had been so uniquely focused on that. She knew that if Snefrid hadn't died the wall would have fallen, but why it had felt more personal than that was not something she could easily say. Some kind of instinct, but the moment Snefrid had entered the battlefield all reason had left her, although even before that the pain had been pushing her into the madness of the berserker, so maybe it was better to say that the Lunatic Princess had become the focus of her rage rather than being the direct cause.

Well, whatever the reason was, Mizuki hadn't moved much after that. The other defenders had kept fighting, because even with the leader of the wolf warriors dead the Falderen army hadn't given up yet. She should have helped, but she didn't think she'd have been capable of it even if she had tried. Now that she wasn't blinded to her own pain she felt dizzy, nauseous, and very light-headed as all the wounds and loss of blood caught up to her. It had taken considerable effort to not just drop unconscious, so fighting had been out of the question. It was a good thing that the others had managed to keep the enemy at bay for long enough, until the mad king had been slain and the spell possessing the Falderen soldiers had been lifted. Mizuki had barely noticed.

In front of her was Snefrid's body. Despite the immense amount of damage that had been inflicted on her she had still managed to look relatively wholesome, with the most gruesome wound still being the one where Zelrius had pierced her skull to finish her off. Mizuki's memories may be blurry, but she remembered enough to be extremely impressed that Snefrid had managed to shrug off so many attacks from steel and magic alike before she'd finally surpassed the limits of what her body could endure. And even in death she still looked strong, which said a lot about her.

Mizuki wanted to lift her hands, but found it a painful and taxing process. She let her hand drop back as she instead watched the Lunatic Princess's body. It wasn't like she had even known the wolf. This was the first time they had ever met, and it hadn't been a social meeting either. Snefrid had just been a mercenary from somewhere who had been tasked to help bring down this wall. No special meeting, no personal relation. There was no reason for Mizuki to feel like Snefrid held more importance than the others who had fallen in this fight, beyond the fact that Snefrid had been far more dangerous a combatant than everyone else. And yet Mizuki still felt a strange attraction.

The fight had ended and most people were now focusing on healing up or tending to the wounded. So far Mizuki had been left alone, which was good. She didn't want to move from her current position, she would have been very annoyed if someone had tried to move her from her current position. However at some point she would have to make a decision, and before it was too late. In her head there was a strange idea, something she wouldn't otherwise have thought of, but in a certain way it made more sense than anything else she could do. It would be considered barbaric by many, on Earth it would probably be considered illegal.

But the berserkergang seemed to have done something to Mizuki's mind. She no longer was being controlled by rage, but she did feel like her perspective of the world was different. Terrasphere no longer looked like it was the same kind of world as Earth. Or maybe Mizuki no longer was the same person as Akemi. That wasn't a healthy thought, but Mizuki wasn't sure whether she should deny it or accept it.

Well, she didn't have to decide on THAT right away. It wasn't like this was the last moment of her life. Even if she had died here she would have respawned, which was a strange thought if you considered that many of the combatants in this world didn't have that luxury. Many of the fallen here, almost all of them in fact, would not have that luxury. But Mizuki did have time, and she was spending it convincing herself that even if it wasn't appropriate to do on Earth, it was the appropriate thing to do here and now, in this place. Even if Terrasphere was virtual she came here to experience new things.

Her ears twitched as she heard someone approach, although even that was already painful (well, everything was painful anyway). Turning her head slightly Mizuki winced before looking at who was approaching. They might get in the way, which made her narrow her eyes. She wasn't in the position to fight anyone who was even the slightest bit healthy, but she had already waited long enough that if she tried to go through with her plan right now they'd catch her in the middle of the act, so she had little choice but to wait.

@Zelrius

 

Lucia chuckled, a sweet expression on her face, she had a warm and gentle atmosphere to her as she trudged through the gore contented. Despite the horrific scenes around her, she didn't seem very put off, even among the dead her kind and welcoming aura didn't fade as she held up the sides of her dress a little to make sure it didn't slide into any of the red on the floor along the way. Cautious of her surroundings, as if afraid her appearance would be stained or smudged in some way she carried on trying to remain as pristine and clean as she could. This wasn't an experiment after all, if there was no reason to sift through guts she really didn't want to. Gore and blood simply wasn't her thing at all.

At her back, a peculiar fellow followed along, patiently, with his arms behind his back. Unlike Lucia this particular person had a more formal style of dress, a long flowing coat. He would look normal if only he had legs. Instead, floating through the air without anything below the waist, the phantom had it's arms behind it's back, with only a silver mask where it's head should have been, no face or features to really speak of beyond the mask itself. He carried himself in a refined and dignified way, but at the same time seemed to be the serving type rather then the more regal and some kind of glorified young master. He followed at Lucia's back, glancing about vigilantly, occasionally cutting into her thinking with a few comments about how the setting seemed right and the materials were plentiful enough.

Not far from Zel and Mizuki, certainly exposed enough to be in their line of sight at least, Lucia pulled the bound and bandaged tome from her waist with a relaxed and contented sigh. "This place seems good enough Mortimer. You said these wolves were particularly fierce? I only managed to spot the big one dying at the end, were her remains found?" Lucia asked, a piqued curiosity on her face as she considered her options. Despite Lucia's interest though, the masked phantom would only shake it's head responding in a patient voice. "I'm afraid it had gone missing, that said, from an alchemic stand point it would likely have been considered low grade material either way. Unnecessarily extravagant; The Matriarch can do better with these materials I'm certain." He spoke, his words flattering but also advising. Mortimer's manner of speech had always been very measured and flattering, like a suit wearing spy of his era, he was good company.

For a moment, Lucia seemed bitter, but after Mortimer's explanation she came to understand and even agree. Components should match one another well, not only in classification but also in quality. If not, then you ran the risk of making mistakes and having the unexpected occur. It was the ideal of an amateur that cared little for the final product'd stability in favor of it's power. "Very well then, let us use the lower quality ones then. Stand watch for me a while?" "Of course, Matriarch." Placing a hand over his chest, the phantom turned to face the open floor, floating a brief distance he suddenly disappeared, dispersing into smoke leaving the truth about him leaving or staying remain unclear from her words. Those with a good enough nose or keen enough eye sight tough would notice his 'smell' hadn't completely faded, it had merely expanded and welled. An occasional trace of that smoke briefly flickering here or there as a wavy flicker.

With a shake of her wrists, Lucia began opening her tome, sifting through it's pages slowly in consideration. It hadn't been long since she made her own piece, but at the same time felt a measure of concern. If she just kept making her own undead it would defeat the purpose. The next one she got would have to be fresh and untouched she affirmed. She could not let her own color continue to tint and taint the kingdom she idealized. From her palm, a dark purple colored fog began to billow out, brushing past the few corpses, it began urging them closer. As if being pulled by an invisible force, the limbs, bones, bodies began to slowly inch their way towards Lucia trying to form their own pile. As they grew in size and mass, those at the bottom would begin to change, getting stickier, rotting, grabbing onto one another it began to get harder and harder to notice where one began and the other ended.

The sight was unsavory, even for Lucia who knew what to expect, it was unsightly to see the birth of an abomination, but she watched onward. This would be the birth of her newest general, the leader of the creature class, the monsters, the abominations. She would see this creature's first steps through to the end as it continued to twist and writhe as if trying to decide it's own final shape.

 

It had been a long day.

Emerath couldn't remember many bigger understatements he had thought in recent times. But that was certainly up there. So much had happened, and technically Emerath's team had lost. He thought of his commanders, and wondered if it would fall back on them for the loss. But to Emerath it didn't really matter. The aftermath hadn't yet hit them, but to Emerath he was content. It had been fun, albeit painful and incredibly taxing. But fun, nonetheless.

Once he was sure that the war had been over, Emerath had made his way from the battlefield to log out, take a nice warm shower, remember what it was like to not be in massive magical pain, and then vowed to log back in and help with repairs. He had managed to keep Solaria safe up until the soldiers had retreated, but they had parted from there. No doubt she had other friends to attend to besides him, and that was fine. Emerath knew as a tinker, he could do his part in the repairs, so he focused on that until he saw her again.

The blonde haired man that Solaria had healed hadn't left when everyone else did. It had piqued Emerath's curiosity, but he wasn't about to argue with the man who had finally slain Snefrid during the battle. Emerath had barely jumped in, but the blow she had delivered to him when she transformed had been enough to show Emerath that she had been formidable. Much respect went out to Eastwatch who had fought against her until the Southwatch reinforcements had arrived.

When Emerath logged back in, he was pleased to find that much of the nausea and pain had passed, though his body still ached from the battle. Especially his hands. He wasn't used to fist combat, and now he could feel what he could only imagine was what MMA fighters regularly went through. He felt for them a bit, as he rubbed his bruised knuckles, thankful that his only major saving grace was that he had managed to buy some knuckles before the fight. Otherwise his hands might not have survived at all. He stretched and could feel every muscle in his body scream from the ordeal that had transpired. A part of him wondered why he had logged back into this, but he had a job to do. And perhaps a reward to get. He could live with the pain for that.

So he made his way to the location of the battle with Snefrid, he was a bit surprised to see the bodies laid out in a strange fashion, and a woman who appeared to be shaping a large undead monstrosity. "What a strange world this is..." he muttered to himself as he watched the creature grow and shape. He tried his best not to think too much about it. More people going about their business, and Emerath had his own. This strange spectacle wouldn't repair the wall. Though if it had started to, he would certainly be impressed then. But more than anything, it just indicated someone for Emerath to stay out of their way.

Instead, Emerath made his way to the gate, and began to make repairs there. The wood had been splintered in so many places, and the gate mechanism had jammed due to the assault, making them wide open with the gate down through the Eastwatch wall. Not that Emerath was necessarily worried about another attack. But the possibility didn't escape him. So he decided it best to fix the gate first. Slowly, he tinkered away, learning about the way the mechanism worked, before using some spare tools he had found in the barracks to start shaping the machine so that it worked again. It had appeared that it was severely dented from the war, and had gotten some stone shrapnel in the chain and mechanism from catapult blows. It took him quite some time to fix, and when he was done, he called for the soldiers to test the gate. One complied, and pulled the lever to crank the gate back up into position, and it was a bit slow but it worked. He patted the man on the back and said, "I'll work on making a new gate mechanism in a bit. I'm going to go check on the status of other things. At least it works for now." The soldier nodded to him as Emerath stepped outside to see what interesting events had transpired in the meantime as he had worked.

 

Zelrius waded slowly through the littered battlefield, the stench filling his nose. It was a horrible scene; as the morning sun began to heat up the bodies all around them, now decomposition really picking up. Flies, some larger than ones the man had ever seen in real life, now began to buzz around bodies; landing only briefly to pick them apart, or mate on top of them. Though despite that, the Golden haired man couldn't bring himself to care; That influence of which he not knew the origin of, didn't seem to be attaching to all things dead and dying. No, for some reason, his compulsions only held those he had killed personally to that regard.

Still even though the numbers of those he had personally killed weren't completely out the window, it was enough to make the ritual look proper, the bodies lining the wooden and steel pyre from end to end. There was just one missing piece; The Lunatic Princess herself. Within moments, Zelrius was upon the scene where the fight had been happening, surprised to see Alonso not in the immediate area, giving a quick scan for the feline-fatherly figure. He'd had to catch up with and talk to that man after all was said and done. After his quick scan though, he did realize one person, who wasn't a dead body. Atleast, not on the outside.

He approached and stood over Mizuki for a second, examining the area and her. It was obvious she was in pain, but more so that she noticed him coming, as her ears promptly twitched and her head craned to face him. That made Zelrius approach more cautiously, as he crouched beside his ally and began whispering to her, an attempt to be considerate to her pain and possibly avoid a headache with his normally loud voice. "Hey," he began in a soft hiss. "Everything okay? Need me to get Kaede or someone to help carry you?" Of course, Zelrius offered someone else to do it; his mind still hellbent on taking away the carcass of the Canine Queen to the Pyre and starting his rite.

 

One of the odder things was that Snefrid's corpse had yet to attract any flies. Of course in a normal game there was no such thing as decomposition or carrion eaters unless it was specifically coded in: bodies would either vanish upon death as they no longer had any use, or they would remain for a set amount of time in case the game designers thought that looked better or if there were special mechanisms that would require a dead body to interact with. In here though Mizuki had come to assume that realism was always present in full force, and it wasn't the first time she had seen what happened to a corpse. While Terrasphere wasn't the same as Earth it still shared many similarities (primarily in the basic physics and what kind of creatures exist, which made sense since the setting was supposedly Earth many years into the future), and around her there were already several corpses which had become a feast. However Snefrid's corpse had remained untouched for now. Mizuki doubted it would last, but if she were to guess she'd say that if a creature was powerful enough it'd take a while before any type of carrion was willing to approach it even after its death.

Well, it'd make Mizuki's plan easier if the corpse was still pristine, although since Snefrid's remains had already been cooling down she doubted it'd be enjoyable either way. Still, she was managing to convince herself that it was the best thing to do, even if she was being slow in doing it. She looked at the corpse, frowning as she tried to think of any possible downsides. Maybe she could get ill, maybe there was a trap. However she was pretty sure that now that the war was over there wouldn't be much difficulty in finding someone doing rounds to heal people. Besides, unlike the NPCs death was pretty cheap for PCs. There would be a punishment for dying, but even that could be dealt with if you were willing to pay enough gold to remove the curse. The only way this could really backfire in a way that it would make Mizuki firmly decide against it is if doing it would somehow harm her real self, or if it caused something to happen that affected a lot more than just herself. The former could happen but she had no way of proving or disproving it, making the point moot, but the latter sounded like an unnecessarily paranoid thought.

Of course Mizuki wasn't devoid of paranoia. Though, paranoia wasn't the right word. She was a worrier, she was always trying to figure out the little details in any situation to make sure she hadn't missed anything, which could make her hesitate or make a safer but less optimal decision. On Earth she had managed to mitigate this by finding herself a position which she was familiar and comfortable with, so she already was aware of all the little things in advance and didn't have to waste time thinking about them in the here and now, except perhaps to quickly run past all of them again before making her final decision. Here in Terrasphere there were a lot of unknowns, and because of that Mizuki had been a lot more uncertain here than on Earth. Even now she was still hesitating to do what she wanted to do and what she felt she must do, because a part of her was still trying to find anything she might have missed.

In a way Zelrius's arrival helped because it told her that time was up, and that it was now or never. She wouldn't tell him that, but having him unintentionally force her to make a decision made her somewhat grateful, since the longer she waited the less pleasant it would have been anyway. When she looked at him Mizuki's expression was thoughtful, somewhat pained (well, a bit more than just somewhat, but less than before. Even the pain of a battered and bruised body eventually became bearable. The mind was good at returning to equilibrium), but not necessarily unfriendly, although there was a bit of a guarded look in her eyes. "I'm... fine. Well, not exactly fine." She couldn't exactly show Zelrius just how many hit point she had left unless she wanted to invite him to a party, but it was very, very low. "I'd probably die if I so much as sneezed right now. But as long as I don't do that I'll be fine."

She looked back towards Snefrid's corpse, although when she spoke it was towards Zelrius. "I have little knowledge about who she was. However from what I can remember she was a monstrous opponent, and we're all lucky that we managed to survive her and the other wolves. The other wolves might not have been on par with Snefrid, but they had still been elites compared to the infantry of Falderen. Mizuki inhaled and winced before continuing. "I don't know why I lost control when she appeared, but now that she's dead I feel like I have to show my respects in some manner." She didn't know if Zelrius was going to approve or disapprove, but she wasn't going to pull it off without him noticing, and she wouldn't be able to do it if he tried to stop her. Better to just hope he would understand, or at least refrain from stopping her if he at least knew she was completely serious about this and had thought about it carefully. "I don't know what her clan would do for her if they had managed to retrieve the body before surrendering. I'd say we should return the body to them, but it seems they all fled after her demise. So we'll have to do it our own way."

Another deep breath. "From what I can remember she was merciless, monstrous, and motivated by bloodlust more than anything else, but I still feel like I should show my respect. However what I have in mind may be a bit... messy. Looking at her body and remembering how she fought I was reminded of stories about how tribal cultures would respect a powerful enemy. I hope you won't get in my way if I try my best to show my respect in a way that I hope she and her clan would have approved of." She turned her head to look at Zelrius once more, her eyes a moon of gold and a moon of ice. "I'm not a history major or anything, but from what I remember tribal cultures had a tradition that by eating the heart of a powerful foe you would inherit their strength and courage, and their spirit would live on inside of you. I'm not sure if it actually works that way in this world, and I can't say for certain if it's what she would have wanted, but she would most likely decompose before we could find a surviving wolf and ask them what their methods for respecting the death are." She slowly lifted her hand, still wearing the clawed gloves, and placed it on Snefrid's breastbone. "With how weak I am right now I couldn't stop you if you wanted to stop me, but I hope you'll let me do this. I only need the heart, so it shouldn't take too long."

@Zelrius

 

Something about Mizuki's movements seemed off. He normally knew her to be calm and collected, save the interaction with the ghost that Kaede had summoned; oh what fun that was. But this was different; it was embarrassment, it was more of calculated movements. Or maybe she just moved slow because of the immense pain? The golden haired man could feel it too, though probably not as much as her. His own muscles and tendons screamed for him to stop, but their screams from within his body were quieted by the invisible Death Affliction, compelling him to strive forward, and show respect to the fallen. Afterall, he had known death, twice now, and he knew that he'd want his body to be treated with the utmost care, however meaningless it was.

Mizuki's expression was slightly worrying to the golden haired man, as she said she was fine and then went on about her own HP bar. Zelrius immediately winced at her answer, only being able to guess what amount of health she layed at, calling back the memory in his own mind, of the near nonexistent HP Meter of his own when he took the stab at Snefrid, wanting nothing more than for it all be over. And that was still the sentiment the man held, even as he took his sweet time getting it done, in no real hurry. Though his mind was racing, urging him to get the deed done and then log out in some inn somewhere. Not yet, he would keep telling himself, determined to see to his friend and battle-mate, and even more so to do what was right for Snefrid on her own allies.

She went on about how she had little understand of Snefrid and her ideals and personality, in which Zelrius concurred, but it brought his mind back to a man with Green hair. That one that they called Quinn, who had been part of the Rescue Entourage, and then split with his own team. Perhaps they had met when all were north, for he seemed to almost immediately recognize the Wolf-Woman. Monstrous was an understatement; she and her troop had almost single-handedly won the whole war right there. They had tore through their defenses while the group was busy in a full on Melee, and the soldiers had made it past the walls and into the city, having killed hundreds of citizens before being stopped and routed. The whole battle felt last ditch, and the swordsman couldn't help but commend Snefrid's own efforts toward that. Afterall, they had stormed the wall, and distracted all of Eastwatch just long enough to hold the army off while the catapults reigned down hell and fury on the stone structures that separated the residential and commercial city, from the cold and unforgiving world outside. A wall they'd certainly have to rebuild.

So Mizuki was right in that, she was more than a formidable opponent, being able to take more than a few hits from the whole team, only being stopped by sheer force of will, and even then, Zelrius made a bold action and only stole the final piece of HP out from any other player being able to take it. Still, the deed was done, and now it was time for the aftermath, this brought the nobly dressed man back to the present, as he listened to Mizuki go on. He nodded at her losing control statement, making an attempt to comfort her. "Even when you weren't right of mind, you fought quite well. And I personally tried my best to let the fight be yours, making it my job to keep the other enemies off of you and Alonso." Though the rest of that conversation began to put the man at unease, because he didn't like where she was going with it.

Our own way. Those words kind of ticked him off, because he was in the midst of doing it his own way, and now she was inserting herself into that method, something Zelrius wasn't quite happy about. Though those thoughts subsided quickly back into his stomach turning, as he felt discomfort rise when she mentioned Tribals. From what he understood, they were always brutal, and uncivilized, when it came to the way they handled the dead, things like eating brains or making totems out of body parts.

However, with one glance from the Princess, to his comrade, Zelrius was lost for a moment in her expression. His own icy eyes meeting her wonderful Azurian coloured eyes, one a magnificent gold, the other a stinging blue. She went on about heart eating, and for one reason or another, he actually quite liked that plan. They were both wolfen in nature, and both were quite powerful. He was more willing to accept as she was striking key words in the conversation; Honor, Respect, and Approval. His invisible Death affliction would have smiled if it was embodied, these were all things they were searching for.

With that, he moved away from her side, moving toward the Wolf-Queen's carcass, raising it slowly, holding it on the side and carrying it away. In this time, he said nothing to Ueno, making no comment toward his Wolf-like acquaintance or her desires. He placed the body at the top of the little wooden throne he had made for her, she was now in position. With that, his mind commanded him to allow Mizuki to honor their common enemy, even if it was in her own method. He went back to her, and tried to help her get to a position where they could do this ritual ceremonially.

 

Mizuki shook her head when Zelrius tried to comfort her regarding her loss of control. Right now that wasn't what she wanted or needed. Well, maybe she did a little, since it was scary to wake up and remember that there was a period of time where your memories were blurred but what you remembered suggested you had acted entirely different from your normal self. However what was more important was what she had to do before the time was up. Maybe these bodies would eventually just disappear. Even if Terrasphere shared traits the world could still have been designed in such a way that the bodies would at first behave normally, but then just get removed once it became clear they no longer served a purpose. It would be a strange thing to do, but Mizuki would rather not take risks. "I'm grateful for your thoughtfulness, but I would have understood if you had prioritized killing her over satisfying my enraged self." It had worked out, thankfully, although even now Zelrius had in the end been the one to kill her. Mizuki did remember that much.

She saw that the man was uncomfortable as she spoke. That wasn't good. If he decided that he shouldn't let her do it there wasn't any way she could get past him. Unlike her he was wounded but still capable of fighting. Mizuki meanwhile would only have to take a single decent hit and she'd be sent to the nearest temple to respawn. She doubted that Zelrius would actually kill her... but she wasn't certain. Maybe he'd be offended at the idea, since she'd imagine that many people on Earth would consider it barbaric and monstrous. It was a risk she was taking. However even if he didn't try to kill her he could just as easily just keep her away from the corpse, either by restraining her or by carrying the corpse away, while Mizuki was in a state that she wouldn't be able to follow. She'd have to hope that in the end he'd be convinced.

It took a while, but eventually she thought she could see his facial features relax as he slowly came to accept the idea. A great relief, because the more Mizuki actually voiced her idea the more she was convinced it was the best thing she could do right now. She wasn't in a condition to do anything but sit here and wait for healers to arrive, so it wasn't like there was much else she could do anyway. She wouldn't ever know for certain whether Snefrid really approved of the idea, since the monstrous wolf woman was already dead, so she'd have to try and guess and hope she was doing the right thing without ever truly knowing for sure. However this was her best guess at the moment, and she was glad that Zelrius was willing to cooperate.

As Zelrius took the body Mizuki at first frowned, since she had been planning to just do it right then and there, and a part of her was still worried that he might just try to take the body away, and that the change in expression had just been him making a decision to keep her from doing what she wanted to do. She couldn't follow him, so she watched as he walked away towards... it was a bit further away so she had to squint, especially since her eyes weren't one hundred percent right now, but she thought she could see a sort of funeral pyre. This didn't reassure her, until Zelrius came back and helped her up, then supported her as she made her way towards where he had placed Snefrid's body on a little elevation of wood.

Hidden: 18+

She climbed onto the elevation as well so she wouldn't have to remain standing as she got to work. This would already be difficult enough as it was, as Snefrid had proved to have a very tough body even in humanoid form. Moving towards here had already been painful and taxing enough that Mizuki had been seeing black spots near the end of it, so she had to pause to try and recover a bit before she got to the bloody work.

There wasn't anyone but Zelrius close by a the moment, other than the dead he had already gathered. That was good, since she doubted everyone would be as tolerating of this as the golden-haired man. Turning back to the corpse she slowly placed her clawed fingers on the breastbone, then added her other hand before taking a deep breath. Slowly, with difficulty and as much care as she could muster, she began to cut open Snefrid's chest, the iron claws managing to pierce skin and flesh even though the battle had done a number on them. They hadn't been broken, but Mizuki would have to visit a blacksmith to repair them to optimal condition once she had recovered more.

Skin, flesh, muscles, sinews, nerves, Mizuki tried to keep her breathing steady as she dug her way into the body, the smell of blood that had not yet fully cooled off thanks to being hidden inside the body assaulting her nose even more so than before. Since the blood was no longer being pumped throughout the body it wasn't as messy as it could have been, but Mizuki still had to work her way through as blood covered her hands, tainted her upper arms, made it difficult to make out the insides as everything was painted a dark red. There was bile rising in Mizuki's throat, but she stubbornly kept digging, forcing Snefrid's tough body tissues to yield under her iron claws.

She reached the ribcage, where she had to grab the breastbone and pull it out of the way, an act which had more black spots dancing in front of her eyes, her arms screaming at her in agony as she tried her best to keep the ribcage as whole as possible even as she opened it. If she was in a better shape she could have done a better job, as it was she couldn't avoid breaking some of the ribs. Even with her claws and the fabric of her gloves her hands were still slippery because of the blood, the body itself was slippery because of the blood. She'd probably have nightmares about this at some point, once she had gotten enough rest to be clear of mind and realize just what exactly she had been doing. Under any other circumstances this would have horrified her as the desecration of a body, gory and bloody.

Then, at least, once the path had been cleared with much work (she had refused to let Zelrius help. This was something she wanted and had to do, if he wanted to honour her as well he'd have to do it his own way after she was done with this) the heart lay before her. It was still, no longer beating, making Mizuki hesitate for a moment as she stared at it. There was a sense of guilt: maybe she was doing the wrong thing. But she shook her head, trying to ignore the wave of dizziness that came with it, and carefully grabbed the heart with both hands and pulled it out, using the iron claws to cut away the veins and arteries that were still holding onto it.

Holding the heart in her hands Mizuki looked at Snefrid. She had made a mess of the wolf's torso. She hoped she'd be able to undo some of that once she was done with the heart. Then she looked at the heart. Like the blood it had been kept relatively warm due to being hidden deep inside the body, where the cold of the outside air hadn't been able to completely leech it of warmth. However now she had removed it, and it would become colder soon. She couldn't hesitate any more, as she opened her mouth to reveal sharp teeth and even sharper canines.

The heart was one of the strongest muscles in the body, and Mizuki found it difficult to pierce it with her teeth. She forced more strength into her jaws even as another spike of pain shot throughout her body. The big muscle resisted, stuck together stubbornly, then finally was torn apart by her canines, a flood of blood entering Mizuki's mouth together with muscle, sinew and nerves. She wanted to puke, but swallowed it down anyway and continued eating. After the first bite she managed to get the hang of it, the wolflike Felis slowly but surely devouring the heart of the Lunatic Princess. Blood dripped down her chin as she forced herself to swallow bite after bite, trying her best to chew every bit of tough muscle as finely as possible. It was a task which required her minutes, as sometimes she had to take a break to breathe heavily and fight back the urge to vomit it all up, as she had to try and subdue the pain that shot through her as she forced herself to keep eating even as her body demanded rest.

It was a good thing that the heart didn't contain any bones, so Mizuki could keep eating until there was nothing left. There had still been plenty of blood left inside the heart, of which she had drank as much as she could while the rest had ended up around her mouth and on her legs as it dripped down. Her hands and arms were a bloody mess. She might contract a disease from doing something so unsanitary. However it was now done, as Mizuki licked the last pieces off of her hands.

@Zelrius

 

As Emerath stood in the sunlight of the rising sun, feeling the warmth on his skin and the accomplishment that came with helping do his part to repair the kingdom he was steadily growing a fondness for, he was content. Although if he was being honest, he still couldn't make much sense of why the bodies were laid out the way they were in Eastwatch in the open courtyard area. It was a troubling, not to mention smelly, state of affairs. As if something weren't done about these corpses soon, the more they would simply rot. He was curious about why nobody else had really begun to move the corpses around, or dispose of them, when he saw the blonde haired man who had disposed of Snefrid during combat carrying the body of said wolf woman.

Intrigued, he followed the man all the way to the center of the strange setup, before everything started to click as he watched the man place the dead woman on the center pyre. This was some sort of ritual, and nobody dared interfere. Probably fear of black magic or something of that like. Something similar to the abomination he had seen earlier. The people of team Eastwatch were an odd lot, so it seemed. Quietly, Emerath wondered if Astorea really needed such strangeness, especially in what was supposed to be a time of healing.

Hidden: 18+

But Emerath continued to watch, enraptured as the blonde was joined by a woman. But interest quickly turned to complete disgust, as Snefrid was torn apart by the woman, as if she were searching for something inside. Emerath struggled to fight his instinct to look away, a mild, disgusting curiosity making him want to watch, as he saw her find the heart of the woman and begin to devour it. But this was the point when Emerath could take no more, as he turned and found himself retching into a nearby waste bin. It hadn't been the corpses, the smell of blood and death, the blood on his own hands. No, it was the sight of a woman literally eating the heart of another, that finally caused him to lose any sort of composure he had.

The thoughts Emerath had been having about enjoying Astorea and its people, as he came to know them and their plight, quickly shifted to an understanding. Not all of Astorea was good, and he wasn't sure he agreed with this course of action. A part of him hoped that the authorities would step in. But who would stop the man who could be considered the hero of Eastwatch for felling the foul creature that killed so many? And so he threw up the rest of his lunch, and then decided to put his mind back to other things, like fixing the siege weapons or something. Anything else but the grisly scene happening at the center of whatever ritual was going on.

 

"My, my," Kijin clicked his tongue as he made his way around the strange half-breed gorging herself on the heart of one of her own. His eyes watched her movements with fleeting amusement before they moved to @Zelrius and his lips curled upward in a wry smirk. "I thought that we fought that last battle to keep the beasts out of Astorea."

Carnal sounds, depravity and insatiable hunger echoed behind him as he made his way over and pressed the sheath of his weapon into the dirt. He leaned forward a bit and turned to admire the handiwork of their comrade as she painted her lips red with viscera and filled her gullet. He rested his cheek in his palm and sighed, then glanced back to the golden haired swordsman.

He dipped the pinky finger of his hand between his lips and sucked for a moment as he observed the last vestiges of her barbarism, then chuckled to himself as he pulled the finger from his mouth slick with spittle.

"How does it feel?" he asked, abruptly shifting the subject. "To be called a hero, I mean. You're well on your way since last we met, Zelrius."

 

Balmung weakly walked up to the gathering of people. He had heard the sounds of conversation while trying to scour the battlefield for any injured, and thought perhaps someone could be in need of assistance. Despite his body telling him to rest, he had continued to press himself onward, much as he was want to do.

When he came upon the scene the scene of the eared-and-tailed girl ripping and chomping at the remains of the wolf princess, his stomach turned a little, threatening to let loose the meager meal that he had managed to get down. If it hadn't been for his all-too-noticeable fatigue, he might have had the energy to heave it up, but something told him he was too tired to be expending the energy to vomit.

Balmung instead bent forward slightly, allowing his hands to rest on his knees to hold himself up. He could feel the cool sweat run down his face and drip from his nose. It was a relaxing sensation, the trickling beads giving him something to focus on that allowed him to forget the aching in his muscles.

As the conversation around him continued, Balmung found it increasingly difficult to keep up. He could easily hear the words, as no one was trying to be hushed with their voice, but he had no knowledge of anyone's name, nor did he currently possess a mind that was rested enough to even keep up with the words. He thought that if he rested just a few minutes more he might stand a chance of deciphering what was being said and to who.

Before long, the white-haired man found himself dangerously close to nodding off, which would have caused him to collapse face first into the blood-soaked earth of the battlefield. To prevent such a thing from happening, Balmung forced himself to stand upright once more. He'd been doing a lot of forcing himself today, especially during the harsh battles that he somehow managed to survive. He'd chalk that up to the contributions made by the more experienced warriors that he'd fought beside.

As he raised his head and began to look at the people around him, he made a connection that he had overlooked when arriving at the scene. The blonde man with the filthy white boots was the very same who finished off the lupine bitch after Balmung threw his everything into his last attack. From the look of things, the man's blue eyes were carrying the same weariness as Balmung's. It seems that even those who were more experienced were not impervious to the effects that war can have on a man's body and soul.

Balmung thought to approach him and congratulate him on his efforts, but quickly thought better of it when he realized the man was probably feeling the same regret inside about today's events. He doubly decided against it when he realized that one of the others around was speaking to the man. Balmung thought it best to just keep his mouth closed and listen in to what was being said. Perhaps he'd get an explanation to why the half-breed girl was making a meal out of their recently brought down enemy.

As he listened, he picked up on a word that didn't seem very commonplace. Zelrius? He wondered quietly. Is that his name? Well, at the very least it was good to know what a man of such calibre's name was. Perhaps he would approach him later and speak to him about the meaning of behind the great war that took place today. After all, Balmung had known very little about what the goals of the war other than his own to prevent more his kind from being injured.

And so he resigned himself to listening. Hoping to learn more, or perhaps just to take the moment to be near others who had shared in the hardships of the day. Standing here resting is definitely preferable to the other things that I've been forced to do today. Balmung thought.

 

Zelrius watched in utter disgust was Mizuki began the process of obtaining and then consuming the heart. The man knew for a god given fact that would be a list of sounds and echoes in his mind that he'd never quite shake. The gut-wrenching tear of dried skin and fur, as it was separated from its own pieces, and then the insides, the wet sounds of blood sopping against her hands and the meat within. All this caused Zelrius to back up, beginning to breathe for a moment. Yet, even despite this, his Death Affliction, that ever present invisible hand, didn't compel him to stop her. In his mind, this was strangely okay, this act. Though it was grotesque and unsettling, he still kept true to his word, allowing her to Honor the Enemy in her way, and him doing so vicariously through her actions at this moment.

It made him feel just a bit queasier as she began to rip through and tear the heart itself with her jaws. Though more than disgust, Zelrius found a sense of worry for his friend wash over him. There was no telling what doing such an act would do, and the man only hoped that there were no NPCs around to witness the act. Or any of this for that matter. He hadn't realized it before, but now the Golden-haired man became consciously paranoid that everything about this scene wreaked of Blood magic, even if there wasn't any. The man remembered catching a glimpse of that Necromancer running around, the same one he had met deep in the tunnel. Between her doing whatever it is she does, the heart eating, and the very strange shape of the pyre itself. And then came another factor into all that; Kijin. @Lucia Mierz

The man that Zelrius had met a few times, showing up and doing what he does best; sending chills down the golden-haired man's spine. Even still, he couldn't help but give a small 'Heh' to his statement regarding beasts. It was true enough, Mizuki looked more beast or savage, than human at this point, and certainly acted as such back in the battle. Zelrius felt tiredness quite literally attack him, something he had been battling since the end of the real fight. Or perhaps this test of willpower was the real fight? How poetic. Though Tiredness was fought by the Bloodsworn's words. Hero he said. For a moment, the golden haired man stared at his friend, wide eyed. In truth, he actually did feel like a hero, and if people were really calling him such, than was his goal achieved? To be honest, the man wanted the prestige of being known as "The Hero of the Battle of Dormont." But knew full well that no such title would be given, nor would it be fair to the others who more than put in their fair share of effort. Though, Zelrius couldn't help but be a little selfish in that justification; He had both cleared the tunnel, and fought in Eastwatch, despite simply having the option to turn and go hide. He answered the mans question, exhaustion filling his voice. "If being a Hero means always being this sleepless, than count me out." He joked in return, trying to keep his mood light despite the events transpiring up to and at this point. @Kijin Shihaku

However, those words couldn't have been more untrue. The man was determined to complete the task D'Vangelline had set out for him, and if that meant winning Battles and being a Hero with restless nights, then so be it. If it meant be a hero to be worth something in a world somewhere, then so be it. If it meant letting an ally eat the insides of a fallen enemy, then so be it. Those thoughts were cut short by the now gathering crowd, making him grow increasingly self-conscious about what they were doing here. The smell of rotting corpses stung his nose again, and the man decided then that it was time. He made his way back up against the wooden pedestal he had made for the Lunatic Princess and helped his own lupine friend down from it. Step by step, he guided her away from the pyre, and up against the remnants of a fallen Catapult, though to be honest, he felt his effort in helping her get there was minimal, feeling that she had done it almost by herself and that he was just an annoyance. No matter to him, really, as he now pulled a piece of loose wood from the Pyre, making his way to where Kijin stood and lighting it against another stick, some rock, and another sharpened stone. It actually took quite a few unceremonious minutes, but he eventually got it. And with that, now the Ritual began. @Ueno Mizuki

He did a loop, clockwise, from his position of the Pyre, which was labelled "VI" and then kept going, passing each roman Numeral and then stopping at the one Labelled "I". He took a few steps forward, lighting it and then murmuring a few words. Repeating this for each Number.

I "For those who fought bravely."
II "For those who died for what they believed."
III "For those who lost Family and Homes."
IV "For those who were innocent and just."
V "For those who weren't."
VI "For the Women and Children."
VII "For those who desired War."
VIII "For those who sought Peace."
IX "For those who fought for Theodore and Falderen."
X "For those who took no allegiance, but fought for what they believed."
XI "For Astorea, and its Citizens."
XII "For Snefrid and her Wolves."

Snefrid "For those of the Fallen and Living. All should be honoured, regardless of Character and Righteousness."

By the time Zelrius stepped back to let the majority of the Pyre take up his view, the flames had already began to engulf the 'spokes' of the wheel he had created, the stench of burning flesh and bone filling the air, along with the quiet crackling and clinking of burning wood and steel.

He was satisfied with this, and hoped that Snefrid and her allies would be as well.

 

Emerath had been ready to move on, but the sudden murmur of the gathering crowd, and fire, caught Emerath's eye in his peripheral. He turned, to see the blonde haired man making his way around the ritual circle, burning the wood and the bodies. Slowly, the stench filled his nose, and he tried his best not to lose what little he had left in his stomach. Still a gruesome scene, but Emerath couldn't help but be enraptured.

Idly, he wondered why it had to be set up this way. What the blonde haired man had intended by specifically setting the bodies up in a clock formation rather than just piling them together. He thought he had seen the man's mouth moving, but given the din of the crowd and the haze of the smoke, there was no way to tell what exactly, if anything, he was saying. Though, it didn't really matter.

As the bodies burned, Emerath hoped that the fallen and the living alike could move on. Nothing seemed more final than the cremation of these corpses. At least in Emerath's mind. With that, Emerath felt at ease, despite the gruesome scene he had bore witness to only moments before. He tried his best not to think of it again, the memory of his vomiting just as fresh in his mind as the bloody scene he had witnessed.

Instead, he felt sure in moving on, as he pushed his way out of the crowd to do as he had told the soldiers he would, and made his way to begin making a new crank for the drawbridge out of the parts of the recycled siege weapons and other supplies left out for rebuilding efforts. "I wish I knew them better," Emerath mused to himself as he worked, thinking not only of the Astoreans themselves, but also of people like the blonde haired man. "I wish I could make sense of their actions, and their reasoning. Maybe someday I'll have the chance," he told his contraption as he built. For now, that would just have to do.

[[Exit Thread]]

 

It had been a nasty, messy, gruesome task, and there was a portion of Mizuki which was horrified by what she had just done. However she had stuck to her plan, refusing to regurgitate or otherwise hinder her attempts at doing what she felt was the right thing to do, even if she was also aware that from the perspective of the modern world no sane person would agree with that assessment. It wasn't that she thought that she was somehow different from the others, that she somehow had a unique perspective: she just thought that since this wasn't Earth, since this was a different time and place with potentially vastly different cultures and traditions, she couldn't rely only on what she knew from Earth, and her attempts at making use of what she knew from this world had this as result, even if she'd have a hard time explaining exactly how.

But it was done now, and Mizuki sat there next to the corpse as she breathed heavily, the irony taste of blood filling her mouth and making her worry that if she didn't wash her mouth soon she might end up throwing up anyway. However before she left she still wanted to make sure she didn't leave Snefrid's corpse a total mess, so she tried her best to clean the fallen Wolf Queen up. She couldn't do much about the blood, and she couldn't do much about the fact that there was a big wound in her chest, but she could at least try to kind of push the edges of the wound back together while making sure all the pieces were inside. She'd tried her best to cut into Snefrid rather than just tear her open, which helped now as she managed to at least clean the body up enough that someone would still be able to see that she had received a big wound on her torso, but would no longer be able to tell that part of her had been cannibalized.

With that done she accepted Zelrius's help to get off of the platform he had built for Snefrid, still feeling incredibly weak and close to death. The tradition she had honoured hadn't done anything about the fact that she was wounded badly and exhausted, so the man's help was greatly appreciated even if she didn't show it immediately. She was also aware that the other onlookers, those that she noticed at least, maybe weren't as happy about what had been done as Mizuki and Zelrius. It had been Mizuki's idea and Zelrius accepted her desire to honour Snefrid in her own way as genuine, but for the others it must have looked a lot like a grisly scene with no real justification or sane explanation behind it. The wolflike woman would have been more concerned by the idea that she was making people think of her as a savage beast, but right now she didn't have the energy to worry about that. It was already difficult enough to keep standing once Zelrius stopped supporting her so he could do his own part in honouring the fallen.

As she stood there, careful to move as little as possible, Mizuki's sharp ears received fragments of the conversations between Zelrius and the others, those that didn't leave at least. It confirmed that they weren't happy about what she had been doing, and it also gave the impression that so far as they were concerned Zelrius was the hero of the battle which had occurred here. She would have been annoyed by that, since both she herself and others had put in a great amount of effort to bring Snefrid down and it wasn't like Zelrius's actions were the only ones that mattered just because he happened to be the first to strike when Snefrid had been weakened to the point that she could be finished off. However that would have taken energy as well, and right now it took all the energy Mizuki had to watch Zelrius as he began to ignite the big funeral pyre he had been building. She had already delayed his ritual with her own request, so now she'd just watch and afterwards she'd... go rest she supposed. She really couldn't do much else in her current state.

However even as she watched Zelrius and the fire her vision became more and more blurry, and her breathing became rougher as she struggled to remain on her feet. The smells all around her assaulted her, although none were remotely as strong as the scent, and taste, of blood and flesh. Even as the fires flared up Mizuki dropped to her knees, trying to support herself with her hands but finding herself unable to as instead she just struggled to breathe, wincing and flinching as the pain from her wounds flowed freely. She tried her best to recover, but before the funeral pyre had finished devouring the fallen Mizuki had already lost consciousness, collapsed on the cold and bloody floor even as blood still stained her mouth and teeth. Sharp teeth with noticeably long canines, which were revealed slightly as even when her mind was elsewhere she still grimaced and tried to curl up as an instinctive response towards all the wounds.

<<EXIT THREAD>>​