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>>1205158
Carefully making your way down the hill, the sound of a heated argument could be heard before the sight of the flags come into view. As you get closer you realize that “the flags” were more like “a flag” with small crowd sitting by arguing, Argenta being among a few familiar faces that you could recognize.

Cautiously making your way closer, you try to make sense of their debacle.

“-got swallowed up for this!”

“-make me fight you for it!”

“Everyone let’s just stop, and settle down.”

Many more things were yelled, screamed, and shouted; even a few weird insults you’ve hadn’t heard were uttered. If they kept this up, they’ll attract more than just Grimm in these woods. You can just feel your grip tighten around Hexenbessen, as well as a few unwarranted gazes from the foliage far behind you.

“I bet we can take the flag while they’re arguing.” One of you teammates states, “At the rate they’re getting to know each other, they’ll be here for a while.”


>Try to talk to the group
>End their argument immediately
>Try to steal the flag
>Other

>>1205170
>End their argument immediately

Just shoot off a round into the air.

>>1205170
WRiting

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>>1205360
Seeing enough of this shitshow, you emerge out of the treeline, pulling out Hexenbessen.

“Mr. Nemo, what are you doing?!?” Miralda quickly follows after you.

“Ending this nonsense.”

And with a single shot into the sky, the whole forest falls silent except for the sound of leafs whistling in the wind as everyone’s gaze fall upon you. Some draw their weapons upon you while others just stare.


>“What the hell is wrong with you?”
>“Parati Sumus: We are ready, not I am ready”
>“We can either stay here, or we can head back.”
>Other

>>1205473
>“What the hell is wrong with you?”
>“Parati Sumus: We are ready, not I am ready”

>>1205473
>>“Parati Sumus: We are ready, not I am ready”

>>1205473

>“Parati Sumus: We are ready, not I am ready”
Do you all want to die!!?

>>1205473
Writing

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>>1205673
“What the hell is wrong with you people?” You yell at the crowd, “It’s Parati Sumus: WE are ready, NOT I am ready!”

Argenta and the whole group trade looks with each other in shock of your sudden appearance, and the meaning of your words. Miralda and the rest soon emerge from the crimson foliage as they try to cover you.

“Do you bastards want to die? If we keep fighting each other, the whole damn forest will be on us!”

The assembly start to slowly lower their arms as it seems that your words may have had an effect on them. Your eyes focus upon the lone flag in the ruins, and you start to stride towards the flagpost.

Argenta makes headway and quickly stands in your way guns akimbo, “And what do you think you’re doing?”

>“Trust me.”
>“They never said how big teams could be.”
>“Holding onto it for safe keeping.”
>Other

>>1205817

>“They never said how big teams could be.”
We rise and fall as one

Also since all of you guys wore fighting over it it would be better if someone outaide of thia bitch fest hold onto it

>>1205817
>“They never said how big teams could be.”

>>1205817
>>“They never said how big teams could be.”

>>1205817
Writing

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>>1205964
If there was one thing you could say about Argenta from your few times meeting her, it would be that she had a certain spirit. Looking at her hands, you notice she still had her fingers on the trigger of her guns; a mistake you hope would be amended in time as you had the pressing matter of being in a forest with beasts that wanted to rip and tear you to shreds.

“They never did tell us how big a team could be,” you calmly say.

Argenta keeps staring straight into your eyes defiantly before placing her guns back into her holsters. She quietly steps to the side, allowing you to retrieve the last flag.

The flag bore heraldry of the Scintillan Knights: animals, colours, and patterns that you vividly remember from the times you fought against them. Freeing the flagstaff from its mount, you make your way out of the ruins and stand outside, surrounded by the newly formed team.

>Keep the flag
>Give the flag to Miralda
>Give the flag to Argenta
>Other.

>>1206133
>>Keep the flag

>>1206133
Writing

>>1206133

>Keep the flag

Start a marching song

>>1206288
Considering that most of the people assembled were bickering about who’d take the flag, it was a safe bet to handle the objective as you were the one who suggested that everyone should be working together.

Taking some spare rope from the flagstaff, you sling the flag across your back after equipping yourself with your new machinegun.

“Alright then, let’s go home!”

And you lead the trek back to the starting point, wind blowing gently against the colours of the flag like waves of an ocean. Being in charge of handling a situation reminded you of familiar years long passed. Hell, you accidentally started whistling a few old marching songs that you heard a few times.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BRyIEnkk86Q

It all felt strangely….

>Nice
>Familiar
>Terrifying
>Other

>>1206464
>>Familiar

>>1206464
>Familiar

>>1206464

>Familiar
But in a sad way as most of this kids are going to die

>>1206464
Writing

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>>1206605
…Familiar

As much as it was comforting to be presented with situations you knew how to handle and a clear-cut objective, or the feeling of dread knowing that half of these kids would be dead in the mud on any other day. All you can feel is the familiarity of marching towards your next destination, and the comfort of structure.

Back then, Bailout would be the one telling everyone what to do, Jaeger would boast about his superior training while Steady Hand reminded him that he was a drop-out, Bishop performed her casting to near perfection, and you would be the one stuck in there. Now, alone, you had to get everyone out alive. You can only hope that maybe a handful of them have that little spark which can at least make them last longer than the rest.

But for now, you could only march forward.

>Roll 1d20

Rolled 1 (1d20)

>>1206752

Rolled 14 (1d20)

>>1206752

>>1206768

We dont have the spark

Rolled 19 (1d20)

>>1206752

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>>1206752
Writing

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>>1206796
Making your way back along the main path, you come across a small clearing whereupon you notice a silver sword embedded in a large moss covered stone.

“What the….”you drift off.

From what you could tell at your distance, the naked blade, although covered in moss, was still shining brightly silver-white in the rays of the sun as if it was drinking in all the light.

“That was definitely not there when we came through here.” Argenta anxiously says to which the nods of the others agree.

>Investigate the blade
>Pull out the sword
>Go around it
>Other

>>1206841
>>Investigate the blade

>>1206841
>Investigate the blade

>>1206841

>Pull out the sword

>>1206841
Writing

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>>1206968
Motioning to the others to stay back, you approach the sword resting in the stone.

As you get nearer, you feel oddly at peace. As if a great weight had been lifted from your shoulders, and your mind. Birds begin to sing, and only the faintest winds sway the grass from side to side until you kneel to inspect the blade.

Upon closer inspection, you start to see beautiful, but faint curves, swirls, and waves rippling throughout the metal of the sword unlike any blade you’ve laid your eyes upon. Although it had been exposed to the elements for god knows how long, not a single bit of rust tarnished it. The hilt was simply constructed with a small crossguard, and a short handle topped off with a round pommel. As you continued to closely examine the details, your eyes eventually drift to the stone itself.

The stone was eroded smoothly with time, possibly a remnant of what it used to be, and upon the face of the flattest side were faded inscriptions which you could only guess:

“In memory of those [Illegible] and [Illegible}Through [Illegible] Chaos, seek [Illegible] one path. Seek [Illegible] To those who succeed me, Take The [Illegible].
-[Illegible] The Scintillan King”

Hmph, you wonder what that was supposed to mean.

>Take the sword
>Leave the sword
>Other

>>1207024


>Take the sword

>>1207024
>Take the sword

>>1207024
>Take the sword

What's the worst that could happen?

>>1207066

We become king?

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>>1207024
Setting your machinegun to the side, you grab the handle of the blade with both hands, and with a bit of work, manage to free the sword from the stone base. Maybe the Headmaster or something could tell you something about it, or the “Scintillan King”. Last time you checked, the only real royalty on this damn island was the Archduke. You pull out your map of the area and quickly make a mark on this place just in case you ever needed to return.

Waving over to your team, you continue your march back to Rickert (Now rather over encumbered from having a flagstaff, machinegun, and newly acquired sword hanging from your shoulders). But as you leave the serene area, the forest almost immediately gains an oppressive atmosphere. The once well-lit paths are now bathed in pitch black shadows, and once harmonious singing songbirds are now replaced with crows watching your every step.

And that’s when you hear a scream from the back of the line.

Quickly turning back, you see a vaguely armoured humanoid ‘thing’ staring at you in the distance bearing sword and shield.

Once the thing realizes you made eye contact, it merely points its own broad sword at you, and slowly walks towards your direction. Step by step.

>Everyone RUN!
>Test out machinegun
>Everyone attack!
>Other

>>1207150
>Test out machinegun

>>1207150
>Test out machinegun

Say hello to modern warfare.

>>1207150

Writing

Rolled 20, 19 = 39 (2d20)

>>1207251
Casually getting onto a knee, you shoulder the stock of the machinegun against your shoulder. It had been a while since you used this type of Lumeneth weapon. Although it had it had a few issues in operation as one of their first attempts of a domestically made weapon, it was generally reliable.

Roll 2d20

Rolled 6, 2 = 8 (2d20)

>>1207283
FUCK

Writing

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>>1207375
Something just felt weird with that thing, every shot you put down was avoided with almost supernatural speed and agility before you realized you emptied an entire magazine trying to hit it. Everyone started charging towards it, missing every strike or getting knocked away.

You were its target.

Quickly pulling out another magazine, you look back up and see the armoured figure standing above you with sword ready to thrust into your warm entrails, and with a quick thrust….

Nothing happened.

Looking down, you see the sword that you took strewn to your side. The plated hand of the thing carefully retrieved the blade from the leaf covered ground before bowing, and pacing its way back into the woods. Step by step.
--

You and the team eventually found your way back to the starting point, and through some clever loophole abuse, stated that the flag belonged to the team and not a single person. Rickert was somewhat disappointed he didn’t get to see more newbies beat the snot out of each other, but was overall impressed by the answer. When you brought up the story about the armoured figure and the sword, he wrote it off as an urban legend to scare children into not accepting weird gifts, but he did inquire about the descriptions you gave him.

But now that you passed the test, you’d be put in a more permanent team, and that’s when your troubles would really begin….

And that's it for the thread! Unfortunately as mentioned before, I'm going to be putting this quest on Hiatus for the time being. Hopefully, I can still continue it at another time.

Once again, thank you for all those who participated!.

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>>1207390
---A few days later, miles away in the far North---

The sounds of rain pitter-pattering outside could be heard from the Captain’s Cabin. The wreck had been here for years abandoned, and now serving as a temporary base for its new occupants.

A vinyl record, an item considered by most as obsolete, carefully laid upon a record player by The Captain as he delicately placed the needle upon the black disc. The Captain leaned back in his chair, feet resting upon his desk as he turned up the volume of his record player, drowning out the sound of the storm, and filling his ears with the sound of opera music.

Bursting through the door with newspaper in hand, a scruffy man in a ramshackle of patchwork and rusty metal clothes entered abruptly bearing news, “Sir, it seems like we may have some complications with future raids.”

The Captain blinked, methodically placing his feet back onto the floor as the man placed the paper onto the desk before returning to his position by the door.

Quickly grabbing the paper, he stared at the article, “New Recruits”, before slowly shifting his eyes lower to see the picture of a familiar mercenary. The Captain, behind his ornate mask, only betrayed his emotionless exterior by balling up the paper and tossing it aside.

“No matter,” calmly rising from his seat. Manoeuvering his way past battle-worn helmets in various states of battle damage as well as Hunter weapons hung upon the walls before making his way to the portside window, “It’ll take more than a few recruits sent by tyrants and hypocrites to stop us, a liberation force of the people FOR the people. I do believe it’s time for the Azure Liberation Front to accelerate Scintilla’s emancipation.”

Understanding the words of his leader, the patchwork man quickly straightened himself and proudly saluted.

The Captain turned to face his fellow, acknowledging him, returning the salute before resuming to gaze at the size of his force’s camp stretching as far as he could see.

“As Free As The Blue Skies Above; Libertas Aeternum,”