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Raindrop Valkyrie

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Raindrop Valkyrie last won the day on September 16 2016

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About Raindrop Valkyrie

  • Rank
    The Heroine?
  • Birthday 01/03/1995

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  • Alias
    Hukuna
  • Gender
    Female
  • Location
    Waterfall.

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  1. "Something like that." Brida whispered under her breath based on the slight corruption of the name she'd received. She was sure there was countless versions, and the details probably weren't consistent from tale to tale. Worse was she usually wasn't truly sure how to take this. Humanity seemed largely... afraid of her. Most tales she'd come to know made her out as some sort of monster, a boogeyman to frightening young'ins from misbehaving. Others a figure that sought to destroy their vary way of living. Though, even she'd heard the ones that made her out to be some tragic romantic figure... most never were fully positive about the Witch however. "I certainly wouldn't have expected one such as yourself to believe in such... tales." her gaze serious as she leaned forward in her spectral seating. Tension hung in the air for a moment, before a soft chuckle escaped the Witch's lips. "Some of them get a bit lax with the details as l'm sure you are well aware, but there is indeed a kernel of truth at their centers. Myself." the witch seemed quite amused at the attention and the woman's excitement. Perhaps not as pronounced as one would be used to but even she couldn't hide the softness that washed over her features. She leaned back within her chair, though this time maintaining some air of energy and attentiveness. "I've lived alone around two to three centuries, I'm sure there's something of interest to you somewhere in there." she figured it went without saying that in all that time she was more or less uninterrupted. All those years of research were perhaps what many a mage wish they could've had. A single life time devoted to magical art and thinking, a powerful tool in and of itself in such company.
  2. The witch had been keeping to herself as she observed the ongoings. She'd tired of the combat quite a bit ago, it was certainly exciting she supposed but hardly a matter she truly found pleasure in performing. Perhaps her distaste reawoken by the m... Galen's prior showings. She'd forgotten how interesting humans were up close... Though she wasn't the only non-human here. Owena and the half fae that had apparently intruded before her entrance certainly added some spice to the affairs. However nothing quite piqued her interest, she continued to lazily lounge in a cloud of darkness she'd conjured lightly perusing some manner of tome. Something bound in a thick dark leather, a covering that was made to last and keep such a book together. She lightly leafed through the pages, paying little mind to the play that was unfolding before her until a specific person spoke. The words "The second most studied mage in all the lands." That peaked her interest, the following statement only moreso. She knew she referred to the mage everyone surely knew, a man that had supposedly been able to discover the secrets of dark magic without the influence of the Curse amongst many other achievements. None other than Merlin himself. Brinda watched her closely from this point out, her interest in her book suddenly much less than it had once been. The legend's own apprentice it seemed. She supposed it made sense he'd have such progeny, after all human life spans were tragically short, they needed to have successors surely lined up in the event of passing. From there the details would be much clearer to the witch of Knifewood as she gave the conversation of ounce of her attention. She noted the reactions of each individual. Especially that of the young pegasus knight, Juliette? Something of the sort. How she wanted the subject to end seemed interesting... She'd note it for later perhaps something to inquire about. It seemed strange out of nowhere, but there were more pressing matters that had gripped the Witch's attention. She floated over crossing her legs in a flourish as she sat up in her shadowy throne. "Second most studied you say? Being the apprentice of a legendary mage l suppose is quite strong grounds... for such a claim, but there's much more to magic then stuffy libraries and dusty tomes. Tameloc is a vast land, one where magic pulses through it's very veins. However, it seems Merlin has taught you quite well... l do so wonder what he's up to these days." she said directly towards the current target of her interest. Her tone some sort of playful... though whether or not was a good thing was yet to be seen.
  3. Nastasia The tumultuous businesswoman had not been pleased with the change of course at first especially being thrown into what was supposedly another hopeless battle. lf she was meant to fight some unsurmountable battle at the least let it be against a god. She'd have no regrets if she'd been toppled by such a being, but another such as herself? It was nearly unthinkable. However she let her anger stay below the surface, after all such was unsightly during a briefing and she hardly wished to stain her image with Seeker. So she continued to listen to her words, silently stewing away. It wasn't until the later mention of Lain's vouching that there was a shift in her demeanor. She'd wished the fool had the courage as much to tell her himself if such was the case but of course it wasn't. She sighed a defeated sigh, exasperated enough it physically presented itself. She made no effort to explain such, only leaving Seeker to draw her own conclusions if she so choose. She supposed that she was happy Lain thought so highly of her abilities in speechcraft but this seemed like an uphill battle at best and trying to climb the tallest mountain in all of Wrath at worse. But... so was getting to where she was. She and Father, they started with literally nothing or next to it. Somehow they'd wrangled their way into securing a small farm, the owner perhaps trusting that barely passable suit Father had managed to scrounge together. After all, Father had one skill, he could talk. A smoozer of the highest calibre, his words could allow him to reach into a person's wallet and take what he pleased as if it were a gift. While it was despicable talent in the eyes of many... they needed it to get by. She couldn't say she agreed with his methods but she was here and alive. Father would do anything in his power to make his little girl happy. He'd do anything so that she'd have food in her belly and a smile on her face. She'd always admired that about him. They worked the land together... they sweat, bled and worked. Before long the two of them found themselves finding others in the same predicament as themselves... they gave them shelters, jobs and mostly importantly, food. It was before long that Sinclair Farms had a name, and while a major part was her father, she had her own important hand in all that. lt was difficult to believe all this had happened when she was but a young child... that her entire life thus far had been defined by her and Father's climb from the deepest depths of poverty to the heights she now held in the palm of her hand. She'd never forget that, she'd never forget she came from the primordial dirt... the salt of the earth itself. She'd never forget that while she climbed to the top of this mountain's peak. That while she was here alone, that she wasn't put her by her Father, and that while she very much loved him and admired him, that this was her doing. Nastasia walked out to the area, striding into the arena in a striking cobalt blue dress trimmed with frills of white. She dashed her hand through her ringlets, casting it behind her as she strode forward. Her heels cut whatever silence with each beat of her gait. lf there was any fear within her heart she didn't show any of it as she approached. She did not yet summon her mech to herself looking at the opponent she'd be facing through the horrid fog. She looked up her nose at him as she spoke. "l presume you are The Councilor I've heard so much about?"
  4. "I shall fight for justice, honor and the downtrodden! No Ne'erdowell shall escape the ire of the Grand Papillion! The champion of GREAT JUSTICE!!! My weapon, the spear of love and triumph! My shield the truth in the hearts of humanity. May evil tremble in my wake, for my spear shalt pierce the heavens!"
  5. Kaede wasn't sure as to what Alva's tastes in literature was but she figured it probably prove interesting in some regards. Not having strong feelings of her own made picking rather difficult, it helped to have someone help her with being decisive. The best part of it was honestly learning more about the other person. She'd gleaned quite a few things about Arturia from the sessions and she'd certainly not mind learning more about Alva. The second friend she had made... she'd thought the first impossible. But the two had found something in common and moved on from there. lt was clearly possible for her to connect to people in such a way, most just refused her the chance to even try. Despite Alva's best efforts her speed was still a bit much for Kaede to keep up with, as she struggled to keep up with the bounding ball of energy. The girl wasn't easy for Kaede to process, she was quite the opposite of Arturia in a myriad of ways. Having not had much practice with such made it difficult for her but she wanted to try. She'd not felt such a way before, she'd never really had to. Alva... she made all sorts of new feelings and situations happen. "Alva... your pace is so quick. l... don't know if l can keep up" she said barely more than her usual whisper. Kaede usually didn't speak loudly in the halls, she didn't want to attract undue attention to herself more often then not. But she was unsure she was able to be heard as a result. So she tried something that was impossible to ignore. Kaede caught up to Alva, a burst o energy unusal for her. But she needed to catch up to the boundless green haired girl... Alva felt suddenly as Kaede took her hand into hers, a swift but gentle motion. There wasn't any words exchanged as she did so, Kaede only hoping that Alva understood her intent and the meaning of her friend. Kaede after all had figured that Alva could go whatever speed she had wanted if she was holding onto her. Alva could more easily match her own pace if she had an idea of it or Alva could drag her along without leaving her behind. Any other possible implications were lost on the mostly emotionless girl.
  6. The frigid talons of a thing called death circled the Witch in the world betwixt. She'd been in this state plenty before, that where life and death intersected. She'd come here of her own volition plenty, as the strangest places often held the answers that one sought. It also happened to be the realm where visions could easily manifest, glimpses of the world yet to pass. It was here on one storm choked night that Brinda had found the lead that ended with her... well in this situation. She supposed it was only fitting that such could lead here. She'd need to exercise more caution in the future, as little as she cared to continue in this world, she didn't care to throw her remaining time away so... wastefully. She may as well use the time Mother Wild had given her in this world for some end. What that end be, even Brinda didn't know however. The darkness grew tiresome, she'd been here longer than expected. Perhaps she should pass the time with a spot of scrying? She weaved the spell, focusing her intent on a single object... a person in this case. She had followed the second holder of sacred sword but there was a first. A daring white fox, an icy vixen, that first bloodied her blade with the sin of patricide. Perhaps she had for good reason to commit such, it wasn't for a witch that was never human to judge. The witch cared little for human morality and values. The Princess simply interested her for other reasons, the most of which was what was the truth of her ascension. Was it truly for the betterment of the people, or was she the father she'd slain once again? Brinda focused every fiber of her magic lens seeking her, trying to see what this Rosanne was currently tied up in. However before she could find anything she found herself staring up into the eyes of some healer, the dreary sky wrapping her in a cloth of blue. "Hmmm, a shame. l was having such pleasant dreams." Brinda snapped her fingers, a sudden thrum of energy releasing into the air as she did so. Magic solely for the sake of returning her to her feet spent in a moment. She seemed to show off further still as she hovered slightly above the ground her bare feet no longer touching the earth. She leaned back falling into some invisible force that held her as if lounging within a throne of some sort or another. Her chin in her left hand and her right leg crossed over, she gave off quite the ominous aura despite how nonchalant she was carrying herself currently. "l suppose now's not the time for dreams however. This is a battlefield after all." Brinda lethargically lifted her hand repeating the motions to her prior spell but her chant different from the last. "Great spirits of the earth, movers of soil, tenders of graves. l beseech thee, use thine power to lay low but not to end life. Restrain, hold, teach them a lesson they shalt not soon forget!" Attack Fighter D with Worm non-lethally!
  7. Cassidy snickered to herself as she saw the knight that seemed out of place, battered and confused. She'd use this opportunity to sow her unique brand of chaos and further, look for any goodies she could get her hands on. She snuck up, an electric whisper on the wind, undetected, unseen. She rifled around in the Knight's armour seeing if there was any interesting goodies before she went for her signature trick. From behind she managed to unlatch the man's belt buckle and then with a quick tug, pull it entirely free of it's fastenings. Continuing her routine Cassidy put the motion from tearing away the belt backwards into a somersault to free herself of any retaliation that'd surely be coming. "Cassidy: 1 Belts: 0. And a little somefink fer my troubles~" K25 to steal whatever's interesting then belts, then move to K26
  8. "Muhuhu~ A nice one indeed." The Witch further complemented the axewoman's display of skill. Owena was what the man before her had referred to her as and Galen the name Owena'd given that man. Perhaps she should spend the time to remember the names of her company. Whether Human, Dragonborn, or Half Fae, people tended to react better to those that at the least remembered their names. Or so Brinda had thought seemed to be the case. "l do tend to agree with the... Galen here myself." she caught herself before doing as she usually would. "Battle's a tumultuous rapid. A tide what ebbs and flows with chaos. lt pays to be aware of one's surroundings at all times. l learned as much in my times in the Knifewood... one tends to do so when any moment an angered dragon could appear and murder you on sight solely for what you are."
  9. "Hmmm, so it seems they have been young one." She didn't say such to demean. Her tone was quite soft even, perhaps endearing? A dangerous thought to toy with too long as the moment passed on. "Stay your path, your dedication even if it shall come to naught but a bitter early end for thee shall not be in vain. The fruits of study will pave the way of many others of that l'm sure. But, l speak hot air, a truth already known to you, even if not to myself. Human lives are short but bright... they burn but in a flash. You've not the time such as myself to worry about passion turning from a roaring flame into not but weakly glinting embers. A blessing l'd say." She nearly laughed at the misconception but managed to keep all but a playful smirk from crawling across her face. She pondered what words to say, to tell the truth. There's was many ways she could go, even not answering at all. But she decided rather quickly. "Cursed is what l am, what l have so chosen. But l didn't give up humanity to receive it. There was never any to give. Humanity may not be the only thing that the curse considers a worthy trade."
  10. "Hmmm perhaps l could do with better focus, this is battle after all. l can't help but pursue what interests me in the moment l suppose. Precious little does for one old as l." The witch, Brinda, mused to herself about the folly. It certainly put a damper on their plans and made things more interesting but it never shone through her grim exterior. Her mood was hard to parse. She seemed to go back on the words he had spoken prior, truly mull them over. "As to your cause, perhaps it is foolish. However, no child of the land has made progress into the unknown without being branded a fool once or thrice. l'm sure once the realm of magic alone was folly but to the mystic children. But Humanity claimed their stake... The magic that fuels the Curse of the Land is just yet another force to be learned. We never will if no one sacrifices themselves in the pursuit of knowledge." things she truly believed or perhaps once did. She was unsure of herself, what the purpose of all her work had been in this brief moment. She had no goal so no noble... at least not any more. She'd century ago given up on a cure, she herself wasn't all that interested. Her heart didn't burn with the passion for such. She'd chosen the Curse of the Land, she didn't see it as a disease to be cured, an affliction. "As for your assumption, you may but l was never human. Not before the Curse and not after. And Human, l never shall be."
  11. The swarm of shadowed razorworms make quick work of the large hulking mass that had once been a man. Despite their gruesome looks however the destruction was hardly visceral. lf it hadn't be death that was the result of such an act one could perhaps think it beautiful, a poetic return to the embrace of the wild mother. Nothing remained of who had once stood there, they were returned to the soil. Once more a wicked twisting of human flesh was returned to the earth, to nature. Brinda observed the man who came forth after. She had recognized him from before the one that asked her who she was, if she was one of the cursed. She at the least knew he now had one answer unless her magic was to be doubted. There was only one who knew the secrets of darkness separate from the Curse of the Land. She was clearly not he, unless the legends were extremely off base about a certain court mage. Though, The Witch supposed there was many a legend stretched beyonds it's means. The Knights of the Round, even her own. What could one truly believe? Now was hardly the time for philosophy however, as much as she'd love to ponder life's finer points there was battle to be had. The witch noted the man's hesitance as he battled against the Accursed Swordsman. Cowardice? No it was much too intentional, too measured. lt couldn't be fear. His demeanor spoke of an intention and a resolve much stronger than that of a craven lad too afraid to fight. She didn't quite understand it... Humans. They usually didn't hesitate to lay waste to what they perceived as barely more than monsters, or perhaps her knowledge was much too outdated. Even with her magics it wasn't easy to keep fully abreast of the situation in the world of humanity. She supposed such was the result of taking residence in the woods for 200 years. She found this... fascinating. "You stay your blade... Mercy? A curious thing to show to a full fledged Cursed. Many would say such was a foolish endeavor, few from true experience of doing so." she said with a sad lilt to her voice. "Do you still see their humanity?" She directed the still thrumming hoard of razorworm towards the next target, a lay pointing of her left index finger. Her focus seemed to be on the man at the moment and not the battle commencing. Attack Myrm C with Worm!
  12. Despite knowing what task lay ahead... Brinda couldn't help but feel sorrow for those she was about to have a hand in striking down. She knew it for the best... after all in their current mindless state they only spread the plague or take the lives of others out of reasons that amounted to nothing but instinctual hatred. She saw their piteous state many times before in even in the border of the Knifewoods. After all only the mindless would be daring enough to make such a perilous journey into the cusp of a haunted forest. She'd driven them away not using lethal force unless necessary. After all... had they passed further than her they'd meet a much less merciful fate in the talons of dragons. The witch closed her eyes focusing for some purpose, a means of setting things right. She'd give the rites of these now nameless children of the Mother Nature. She'd etch their memory within herself as no one else would be able to recognize them. "Dear benevolent Mother, on this day more of your nameless children shall be sent home. The world of man cast them out, the dark curse of the land stripping their names and warping their corporeal form. Greet them as you would your other children as they once more reunite with the earth. Within somewhere they are still your children, the men and women they once were before everything was taken from them. Mourn with me Mother, grieve those who shall never be grieved for. Their families lost to them it falls upon us, those lost to the world of humanity, to honor them. Now is a time of quiet mourning for you Mother as l exercise the only mercy currently known. By my hand they shall be remembered, they shall be honoured, they shall be given peace. l cannot speak for the others that share within this most unfortunate task but l hope they hold in their hearts the same sentiments as l. Gentle Mother your lost children's suffering shall end as once more you my embrace them." a prayer unwavering released into the crisp still air for all to hear. The witch of the Knifewood once more opened her eyes and left out a weary breath. She had no love for battle... no love for returning others to the earth. Brinda steeled herself as she strode forward as she began the work that simply must be done. In the palm of her hand, a small ruddy brown worm rested. A maw of horrid razorteeth, a dried Razorworm was what it had once been. Small devils that inhabited her home... useful for releasing spells born of the land. She brought her right hand crashing into her left, a swift and precise motion practiced a million times. Where there was once a dried carcass there was but a sickly corpse dust. She spoke words of power, crackling energy within her breath as the motes of dust rose upwards and clung in the stale air as if it was a dusty old library. "Guardian of burrows, humble lord of decay, l beseech thee to lend me your cleansing powers this day. Free these lost souls from darkness, devour accursed flesh so that the untainted soul may once more be free. Return them to Mother! They who swim the earth l call upon your powers! Worm!" the dust motes suddenly changed form, thousands of tiny worms like the one she held in hand formed in the air. They crackled with an umbral pulse, darkness of The Curse fused with magic. The swarm of worms surged forth a writhing mass of retribution towards the first of the Fully Cursed they spotted. Move to N11 and attack Fighter C with Worm!
  13. All of what had just transpired was... quite the amount to take in. Kaede wasn't sure how to process it all but felt for once... a relief due to that. If she couldn't piece together what had transpired she had plausible deniability intact. Hard to be held liable if you weren't aware of the truth of a situation. Furthermore the talk of milk and the reference to Arturia as "mommy" even struck the girl with a divided soul as odd. [Though perhaps it effected her less so then it would others] Kaede couldn't help but get lost in theories of what any of that could've possibly meant but she was taken from that by the girl who's presence in the room she was not yet used to. Somewhere else to be together? They were together here though weren't they? She didn't see why leaving this space made it any different past a change in venue... but she couldn't deny Alva's pick of location was quite useful to her. Kaede had more than a few books near due and she'd certainly like to browse the fiction sections for something new. "l do have some business to take care of there and l could look for some new literature. I usually go with Arturia... I'm not all that capable of picking things out due to my inability to have strong feelings towards courses of action in most cases. l suppose if you were with me, the trip would prove productive." Kaede was quite clearly assessing aloud, something that Alva would learn was quite the common occurrence with Kaede. The girl was quite aware of her inability to show emotion with her facial features so she opted to elaborate on her thought process to invite insight. It was a logical solution to the problem. "l think it'd be quite agreeable. Sure, l'd like that." Kaede wasn't truly sure what Alva was getting out of this trip herself but she herself was certainly benefiting... and it had been Alva's suggestion. It'd hardly hurt to play along.
  14. "l'm unsure l can manage to do any more damage then you already seem to be doing yourselves." The witch wasn't exactly expecting a rebel force to be the most together but this was certainly more of an incoherent mess then she bargained for. She'd have answered the question about who she was but that time had seemingly passed. The witch just retired to seeing where all this went. lt was fascinating in much the same way as watching a ship you knew was going to crash coming in from shore
  15. A slight smile played across the witch's lips, an interesting man this one was. Frustration seemed a powerful deterrent to fear she wasn't sure the other he referred to but she hardly cared. This was already proving to be worth the journey from a land far away, from her home of the Knifewood. She continued casually into the room wandering over to the table filled with fruit. Perhaps just to make a point she took a bite from a the largest apple there before she continued to speak. As casual as the witch was being that only served to increase the aura around her, to make her all the more unnerving a presence. "Your servants preferred their chances with the storm then with myself. l'd not expect them back any time soon." given the speed of their retreat she'd not be surprised if they fled town. She'd not seen humans turn tail so fast in quite some time, lt was an impressive display of cowardice. "Besides, l do have an invitation. l invited myself on a whim, a chance viewing of fate. Certainly looks like you could use some better allies if your loyal servants are so quick to bolt." The Accursed took great amusement in that statement, twisting that knife. She held a few more certainly given the state of madness this meeting seemed to be even before she'd arrived. "Though if you think my offer a jest l suppose l could offer my services to a certain princess. But that'd hardly be as fun... l prefer a good underdog story."
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