The Nonexistent Tazz

Seymore performs an encore, moves to N7 and laments the lack of soldier to smack, except not really.

Seymore moves to P6 and uses his Vulneary on himself.

Seymore moves to R7 and axes Archer2 a question: Flee, or die? Also I guess he just kind of throws a hatchet at him too.

Seymore moves to S11 and activates his KillTheOneInTheDress.exe, that is to say, he attacks the Mage.

Seymore to W11, whack Knight.

Seymore moves to X11.

Seymore sits next to the light mage-he thinks her name is Naomi-and works through his own plate, which had a mishmash of all sorts of different foods. Seymore had not even seen half of these foods until today, and thus treated the whole thing like a feast fit for kings, carefully digesting each bite with a surprising level of measure, heavily contrasting the young woman and/or girl next to him. "Wow, y'er a fast eater, ain'cha," Seymore says, taking pause to glance at his neighbor. "But, uh, no meats? For someone a' y'er stature, it's kinda odd."

Seymore Promotes to Fighter! Seymore gains +2 HP, +2 STR, +1 SKI, +1 SPD, +4 CON, +4 AID and +1 MOV from Promotion bonuses. +5% growth for DEF. Seymore needs a bit of encouragement with that stat. Seymore gains his first class Personal Skill: Adrenaline Rush. When under 50% HP, you gain +2 to base damage. He gains D-Rank proficiency for all axes and C-Rank proficiency for Hacking specifically. Preferred Stats: Strength, Skill, Speed. ((3 due to blossom.)) Weapon Proficiency: Hacking (C), Axes (D) > Hacking (A), Ancient (A), Axes (C), Dark (C) Level: 1 Total Level: 6 Progression Spent: 335/335 HP: 27 (80/100%) STR: 11 (50/70%) MAG: 4 (40/70%) SKL: 5 (40/70%) LUK: 2 (20/70%) DEF: 4 (45/70%) RES: 2 (25/70%) SPD: 8 (35/70%) CON: 10 AID: 9 MOV: 5

Seymore's swift headcount of the remaining enemies made him feel like this was *almost* over, but not quite. He moves to R11 and attacks the Knight.

"This is gettin' t'be a mite bit overwhelming!" Seymore shouts, moving to Q12 and tossing a Hatchet at the weakened Knight. "... But I like it!"

Rihan's impressive shot on the Soldier catches Seymore's attention, but the rest of the fight around him has caught it better. He opts to position himself to better cover his teammates and fight a bit more defensively for the time being. Hold at P12.

Seymore doesn't quite understand what comes over him in that moment, swinging that Hatchet-but he throws it, and he throws it hard. The back-end of the Hatchet goes careening into the horse the cavalier rode upon-right in the head, leaving quite a black eye. This apparently knocked the horse out immediately; the horse's gallop stopped gracelessly and the cavalier tumbled off of his mount without an iota of dignity, though thankfully the Cavalier recovers quickly enough to get up shortly thereafter-and start hoofing it. After a moment of sheer shock at his own strength, Seymore recovers his politeness enough to apologize to the now-fleeing cavalier. "Uh, my bad, sir!" Still, that is a clean way to end a fight. The Cavalier was close enough to retaliate, as well, and Seymore has some feeling why the sword-wielding Argos seemed to favor going up against the axe-wielding foes they fought... As well as why his target looked quite assured of himself prior to the blow.

"Dang, they ain't lettin' up an inch!" Seymore exclaims as the cavaliers come charging in-though they ignore Seymore completely for the 'invoker of mayhem' to his left. Seymore sees a few of his allies peg a Cavalier closeby in retaliation, and Seymore thinks that might be his best option-the Cavaliers seem rather imposing with those swords of theirs. Seymore moves to P11 (narrowly avoiding stepping on Argos's face) and chucks a Hatchet at Cavalier 6.

A downright frightful burst from the rather bubbly light mage had knocked the (fifteen-year old) head of the group down to the floor like a sack of potatoes. Seymore felt his heart race at the sight of it, despite the fact it was an ally's attack and the target was not at all dead. "Holy Dragon..." It took a few seconds for Seymore to refocus, conveniently missing Verdan's distance-healing upon her, and instead moved up to O13, holding admist the cluster of trees.

Seymore is terribly unused to being in the thick of major combat-and he's right on the frontlines! Thank heavens this is a mock battle, or Seymore might've felt even more overwhelmed than he already did. After beating back the fighter that charged him, he sees a battered-looking Soldier, who has eyed him up in kind. The Soldier's spear swiftly points itself at Seymore's direction, and Seymore couldn't quite maneuver back into a safer throwing distance-so instead, Seymore pivots around the Soldier to try to get a tiny opening, winding up at L13 and sending the Hatchet right at the chest. Seymore had not the slightest appreciation of the feeling of adrenaline in his veins until now; everything seemed a bit slower and a bit brighter, for some strange reason. An odd sensation. A welcome one, too.

Seymore feels a pulse of warmth and goodness spread through his body, like the feeling after eating a delicious apple pie. He turns around and sees Verdan's staff easing his wounds. "Oh, thank you kindly, sir! Heh, never had much in the way of the priesthood 'round the Village-" He turns around and sees another wave assault-this time a large group from the south, taking initiative and charging them head-on. He is no tactician, but he does not quite believe Johanna charging their frontline with archers not too far behind this particular squadron is a smart decision on her part. Certainly committed them to fighting here at a frontal assault. "...Oh boy. Uhh, I'll take the spear-wielders up-front!" Seymore shouts as he charges forwards to M14. He uses his running momentum to throw a hatchet at the third soldier.

"Ah, uh, somethin' private? Pardon then, mister Fallon, was only mighty curio-" The Cavalier's abrupt charge at his position snapped his mind away from that conversation well enough. Seymore's retaliation was ineffective, as the Cavalier rode back mostly unharmed. "Oh, forget about that, let's just get this scoundrel before he can do that again!" Seymore moves to M10 and tosses his hatchet at the Cavalier.

"My heart's poundin' all drum-like... Oh, goodness grief, they just keep coming!" Talk about a trial by fire. Seymore pivots southwest to M9, glancing over at Rihan. He overhears something from Verdan-she hasn't been hit? With all the armor he could not hope to tell if it was not on the face, but maybe Seymore could make out the telltale signs of pain in her stance, if he actually was paying attention to that and not to the incoming cavalier charge. He lines up an Axe and hopes to finish off Cavalier 3. He catches Fallon and Johanna giving each other some very unusual glances, and Seymore again fails to catch the meaning of it all, though here his curiosity triumphed over his politeness. "Uhh, is it just me or do you two know each other from before now? Them's some interestin' glances no matter how you dice it."

Seymore's head followed Cerdiwen northeast, enabling him to see enemies trying to flank the crew, and his allies already engaging; so soon after forcing that previous squad to retreat, too. "Oh, oh jeez. Hang on, I'm comin'!" Seymore shouted. He ran to O8, passing Rihan on the way, and took a swing at Soldier 1. Mock Battle or no, the sight of the soldier and his lance at a distance close enough where it was a consideration replaced all thoughts of his nerves about harming his fellow man.

Seymore glances at the field and at the first few blows of the day; the (dismounted) Dragon Rider dueling with the Fighter and Archer. He knows what he's got to do-just stand there and throw a hatchet at one of the fighters and magically have it return to his hand afterwards but... ... Seymore's thoughts cloud up a minute. He keeps saying it's a mock battle and it's all in good sport; that it's practical and pragmatic to attack an enemy unable to attack you back; that the sooner and quicker the fighting is over the better; that every opportunity mustn't be wasted; that the commander is watching and will judge him; and absolutely none of it can get it out of his head that soon enough he'll be fighting-and killing, that most primal sin-for the sake of his country, and the thought of dead animals back home had often burdened his thoughts, but he can't think about that, but he can't stop thinking about that either, but- Seymore's hatchet left his hand and came twirling towards the second fighter without further ado. "... I've got to act more than thinkin' of actin'."

Before Seymore could further engage himself in conversation, the last member arrived; Johanna, the Allied Guard's acting commander. She seemed professional and nice enough, but Seymore was far more concerned about the practice exercise upcoming-what was next was a full-scale mock battle. Seymore moves one step east to M8 and holds position. Argos, just a step further east, makes a taunt towards the 'enemy' Axeman. Seymore just grips his hatchet tight, ready to swing it full-force into the 'enemy' when they came.

"Oh, that kind. Hrm. I s'pose you must be the 'specially trustworthy kind, then, to be runnin' 'round with the dangerous kind of magic, but, uhh..." Seymore opted to just cut himself off, having cognized the grimace a moment ago but only now realizing that it might be a sore subject for him. Seymore turned and tried his best to focus upon the newcomer instead. Seymore's enthusiasm with accepting the handshake and accompanying vigor were more born from trying his best to dart around the uncomfortable topic, even though he didn't know why Fallon was so uncomfortable with it. "Oh, uh. I come from the, Great Forest Village, east've here. This big city is as odd as snow in summerswax t'me," Seymore said. "I'd not've expected some'un from another country to be joinin' this Allied Guard, but I s'pose that's really speakin' much for the whole unity thing," he added. "Bringin' together all sorts of folk."

The fact the voice behind Seymore was a soothing voice had no bearing upon the fact it made him flinch. He almost dropped his hatchet. He tried his best to recollect himself as he turned towards the newcomer, but the Dragon (and perhaps anyone with social skills) knew his nerves were high. "... Yeah, I s'pose they're attractin' a crowd, ahaha," Seymore says. "Uh, howdy. I'm Seymore, he's Fallon, and yeah, you've come to the right place. Rather, uh, eccentric crowd for somethin' so... Uh, of such great, uh, pole-E-tick-al importance." He extends a hand. Seymore wishes he knew what this 'pole-E-tick-al' is to begin with before saying that.

"Uh, the Great Forest Village, sir. Farthest one could get from all this hustle 'n' bustle, t'be honest. It's disorientin' t'be out there on the marketstreets, so I'm just happy we're meetin' up in the gardens. Still, 'bout as far as it gets from the forest..." Seymore glances over at the rest of them. Apparently the purple-haired girl with the ice cream was talking to the boastful swordsman's sword and not the man himself, while a bowswoman rushes into the gardens, exhausted as a horse after a day-long race. Eccentric, indeed, is a good word. He glances back at Fallon, briefly noticing his lack of weapons and armor. "So, I take it y'er one of 'em magefolk, or somethin' along those lines, sir? I tried learnin' magic when I was younger, but I couldn't get no result of any of it no matter how hard I tried. Kinda depressin', but I got over it. I take it you've had better results. Uhh, or am I bein', uh, the word's 'presumptuous,' right? Am I assumin' here?"

"I hope it does, t'be honest. The waiting's, well, It's hard to deal with. Haven't been out of the Great Forest 'n my life 'til now, so the city alone is new to me. Then there's, well, these folk; I just hadn't expected, well... They're rather wild 'n' uh, uh, eccentric. That's the word, right? Eccentric?... I don't mean to badmouth no-one, though, no sir. Just, it's just so new 'n all." "...Oh, drat, goin' off without even sayin' my name! Uh, name's Seymore. Seymore Corrogo. Nice to meet you. Uh, your name, sir?"