~Airspace above Rabanastre~
An enormous airship looms above the capital city of Dalmasca, heading straight for the castle. It is neither Dalmascan nor Rozarrian, but an exotic-looking battleship with an enclosed main deck that serves as the bridge housing all of its amenities and an open exterior upper deck. It is powered not by Mist, but by a strange source of energy alien to Ivalice.
The cockpit has polished hardwood flooring, a grand chandelier serving as the main light source at dark and many foreign contraptions never before seen in any part of Ivalice. It is separated from the rest of the main deck with a heavy wooden door carved with mystic runes that might not be for mere aesthetic purposes.
On the wheel is a blond man clad in chainmail covering his body and legs hidden under a red gambeson, puffed-out sleeves, a white collar and black gauntlets and greaves.
Behind him, a russet-haired man wearing a yellow shirt covered by a green coat, brown fingerless gloves, fitted black pants and knee-high brown boots. He is reading a book entitled LOVELESS and seems to be engrossed in his task.
"When the war of the beasts brings about the world's end. The goddess descends from the sky. Wings of light and dark spread afar. She guides us to bliss, her gift everlasting..." the brunette recites, oblivious to his companion's displeasure.
"Ugh. Arc, this is the fifth time you've repeated that line. Try reading something else, okay? Our trip in Gaia was a life-changing experience, but please, please... stop reading that hideous poem already. Sure Genesis is a nice person, but... honestly, are you really Arc or a copy of him?" the blond complained.
The brunette known as Arc merely shrugged and closed the book. He stood up and was about to exit the cockpit when he glanced back at his compnion to see his reaction. "It's not my fault you don't enjoy reading. Maybe I'll go read with Luneth, he's a better listener than you anyway, Ignus."
The blond known as Ignus mutters to himself. "If you can get him out of bed, that is. His atmosphere sickness peaks at night. Damn, he and Refia are really in bad shape. Of all people, I thought Lulu would recover quickly, but no, I'm stuck piloting the ship with Arc because he and Refia are sick."
Arc grinned cheekily. "Calling Luneth 'Lulu' now, are you, Iggy? Be glad he's not well or else he'll Firaga you 'till nothing's left but ashes."
Ignus' eye twitched at his horrid nickname. "Even if he is well, I am a more capable mage than he is, so don't count on him to beat me at Black Magic anytime soon."
Arc turned to face Ignus, leaning against the door. "Maybe you are, but at least he knows how to cast Cure instead of Poison on an injured ally. I think Refia hasn't forgiven you yet for that time."
That caused Ignus to whip his head back and glare at Arc. "It was a damn accident. It can happen to anyone. We're in a new world called Ivalice, still suffering from the after-effects of interdimensional travel and we land on a Marlboro Overking's nest. What did you expect?!"
This caused Ard to chuckle. "I thought you of all people will recover first."
Oh, if they were on solid ground and not inside the ship, Ignus would have impaled Arc with seven Firaga-infused spears, gouge his eyes with daggers, pluck out each and every one of his fingernails and toenails, stuff his mouth with the extracted nails and sew it shut and maybe chop his head off and turn it into a basketball. Ignus just took a deep, calming breath and tried to focus his attention on piloting the ship.
"Moving on... why don't you go check on our guests? I presume they must be preparing for battle at the moment, considering we're near our destination." Ignus asked.
Arc nods, turning away from his comrade. "I'll see to them." he placed his palm flat on the door and the runes lit up. "The Warriors of Light ferrying a motley crew of mercenaries from the faraway land of Cyril... Never saw that one coming." The wooden door grew transparent, revealing the other side of the main deck. Arc walked through the doorway and as soon as he stepped out of the cockpit, the wooden door is back in its place as if it hadn't disappeared in the first place.
"Infinite in mystery is the gift of the Goddess. We seek it thus, and take to the sky. Ripples form on the water's surface. The wandering soul knows no rest."
~Throne room, Palace of Dalmasca~
"Call me Ashe." the girl said as she stood backs against Reks. "Princess Ashiela B'nargin Dalmasca is too long."
Reks gave a curt nod, regardless of the fact that he's in the presence of the Princess herself. "I'm Reks." he said, parrying a strike from a soldier, then slashed another one behind him. He stabbed the enemy in front of him and ripped his sword from the Rozarrian's abdomen.
He pulled out his orichalcum dirk and stabbed an incoming soldier in the face. He seemed to have hit the man's eye. Wrenching the dirk free, Reks stabbed him on the neck this time and kicked him away. He then proceeded to block a strike meant for the Princess.
"Nice name." Princess Ashe comments, stabbing her longsword at the enemy's chest and rapidly pulling it out, sending blood splattering on Reks. She spun around and blocked a strike from two Rozarrian soldiers using her Escutcheon.
With a grunt, she kicked one of them on the knee, causing him to loose balance and fall while she slashed the other one's unarmored neck. As he fell, Princess Ashe stabbed the downed soldier on his neck. "Sounds tough."
With a grin, Reks aimed at three charging soldiers and whispered "Water.", then following up with a quick "Thunder." firing it with his broadsword. The soldiers were electrecuted, not only because of Water, but also because of their armor, which are made of metal.
Reks never liked heavy stuff, no. He fought light, just like... a ninja. Think Marche Radiuju of Clan Nutsy, the ninja of Ivalice.
"Wow." the Princess raised an eyebrow at him. "You are tough, Reks." she compliments, blocking an enemy's slash. "Heh." Reks thrust his sword at the Rozarrian's chest and kicked him away.
"I do some tough shit in Rabanastre. Having the greatest fuckin' bitch of a brother makes ya tough, y'know?" he says while casually chopping a soldier's head off. Never forget the neck armor, yo (like Reks is wearing any).
Princess Ashe had a faint blush on her cheeks as she continued to fight, though, this time, she stuck close to Reks instead of taking the other side. Though they've only know each other for mere minutes, their chemistry is divine.
Princess Ashe's fluid slashes and quick blocks are complemented by Reks' powerful thrusts and precise parries. Both of them are skilled enough (Ashe more so than Reks) in basic Black Magick, repeatedly using Reks' earlier Water+Thunder combo to crush the opposition.
A few meters away from them, King Raminas B'nargin Dalmasca fought alongside the loyal Vossler York Azelas. Brandishing his prized Durandal and the Zodiac Escutcheon, the old King proves age hasn't dulled his skills in combat. Vossler, though tired and hurt, does not falter.
He must defend the King and the Princess until Marche Radiuju and the rest of Clan Nutsy arrive. Cyril is far, far away from Dalmasca, and it takes half a year on airship. They've held up for this long, so hopefully, their strongest reinforcements make it, or that 100,000,000 gil they spent on hiring Clan Nutsy will all go down the drain.
"My Lord, how fare you?" Vossler asked, turning on his heels to thrust his sword into an enemy's chest, who was aiming for the King. With a light chuckle, King Raminas slashed another Rozarrian soldier who was aiming for Vossler.
"Can't complain, can't complain. This old body of mine is still in excellent shape, loyal knight." he replied. Vossler smirked and beheaded a charging soldier. "That is expected from the great King Dalmasca, he who fought Cyril's Marche Radiuju, a ninja in his prime, while he himself was an aged old man, and even lived to tell the tale."
Another chuckle. "Marche of the Shadows remains the most powerful opponent I've fought in single combat, and remains the sole person to bring me defeat. This old King will never fall to the hands of meager soldiers. GLORY TO DALMASCA!"
King Raminas charged, cape fluttering behind him as he assaulted the enemy soldiers with a flurry of thrusts and slashes with his Durandal, all while defending himself with his trusty Zodiac Escutcheon.
Vossler let out a battle cry of his own and followed after the King, defending him from attacks he could not parry nor block and providing any assistance, such as healing and support to his liege.
"GLORY TO DALMASCA!" Princess Ashe roared, running towards a group of about a dozen Rozarrian soldiers who just arrived through the door. Reks wrenched a mythril blade from a fallen soldier's hand and chased after her.
The Princess' longsword was blocked by two soldiers while another two at her right thrust their swords at the Dalmascan royal, aiming for her chest and abdomen. How silly of them, thinking the Escutcheon is a pale imitation of the Zodiac Escutcheon. Princess Ashe swung her left arm, knocking their broadswords off their hands using her shield.
"FUCK OFF!" Reks bellowed, launching himself at the Rozarrian soldiers. Using the two blades like an extension of his own body, Reks completely destroyed them. Blood and screams swirled around him as the desert warrior performed his dance of death, slashing and stabbing his opponents with the two blades.
His agility is beyond Princess Ashe's comprehension; it appeared as though there are multiple copies of the dual-wielding Reks fighting the soldiers. He couldn't possibly be using a Technik or Magick. This must be what they call a true born warrior, one who does not have the experience of a seasoned fighter, but has the physical prowess of one. The Princess grinned knowingly.
'Seems like I've found my Knight.' she kicked a soldier on the stomach and slashed another one while blocking a strike from a third. Princess Ashiela B'nargin Dalmasca is a warrior, not a mere lady of royal blood. She has extensive knowledge in close combat even though she did not partake in military campaigns, owing to her late brothers whom she sparred with frequently before their untimely deaths.
"GLORY TO DALMASCA! LONG LIVE THE KING!" is the battle cry of Princess Ashe. "STAY STRONG, BRAVE KNIGHTS OF DALMASCA! THE REINFORCEMENTS FROM CYRIL ARE NEAR! ONCE THEY ARRIVE, VICTORY IS OURS! GLORY TO DALMASCA!" Vossler and the remaining Knights of Dalmasca gave their own battle cries.
King Raminas joined in. "KNIGHTS OF DALMASCA, VICTORY IS WITHIN SIGHT! KEEP ON AND WE SHALL VANQUISH THE ROZARRIANS! GLORY TO DALMASCA!"
"GLORY TO DALMASCA! LONG LIVE THE KING! COME ON, ASHE! LET'S ROCK!" is Reks' very own war cry. Not as rousing as the Princess and the King's, but it surely caused adrenaline to surge through Princess Ashe's veins and she roared, brandishing her longsword and charging the Rozarrians head on.
Reks let out a threatening roar as he ran after the Princess, leaving a gruesome trail of dead Rozarrians in his wake. With renewed strength, Vossler and King Raminas assaulted the fleeing enemy with every inch of their brave Dalmascans will not fall to the Rozarrian Empire. Never. Over their dead, decaying bodies will Vayne Carudas Solidor ever rule Dalmasca.
~Courtyard, Palace of Dalmasca ~
Just outside the Palace of Dalmasca, an enormous battleship hovers a few meters above the ground. A ladder composed of linked mythril chains is lowered. Not a second too late, eight figures descended from the ship, their combined weight supported by the mythril ladder.
The first to reach ground is a tall man, around his early thirties, sporting short blond hair hidden by a deep purple cowl that also covered his nose and mouth. He wore a black short-sleeved ninja garb with a chain plate underneath, tanned leather bracers on his arms, black tabi and waraji on his feet. On his back, held by a dark purple power sash, are the legendary katana Masamune and the extremely sharp Silkmoon, his prized weapons, sheathed on their scabbards.
Behind him landed the second person. A woman of average height about his age, with waist-length blazing red hair kept in place with a light yellow Acacia Hat. She wore a Minerva Plate over a stylish red robe, tight black pants, spiked boots, gauntlets and tear-shaped ruby earrings. Her weapon of choice is the Femme Fatale, a crimson blade known to cut the hand of fate. If she had worn a red ribbon instead of the Acacia Hat, she would be blindingly red, not only because of her hair, but also because of her choice of clothing.
After her is a white-furred Moogle Knight with a red puff ball sticking out of his opal helm. He wore an armor made of extremely rare armor made of Materia, a mineral found only in the planet Gaia, brandishing a opal shield, shin-high battle boots on and gauntlets. He wore a star armlet on his right arm. Naturally, all of them are moogle-sized. The fearsome Ebon Blade has been refitted to accommodate the little Moogle's size, but it remains to be the same sword that struck fear across Cyril.
Next is a tall, dark-skinned, white-haired Viera whose head, nose and mouth are covered by a black cowl. She wore a chain plate under a black garb secured with a deep red power sash, black tabi and waraji. She had a thief armlet on her right hand and a bone armlet on the one holding her bow. Speaking of which, her bow, the black lacquered Max's Oathbow is a legendary weapon said to signify a demonic pact. A Mindu Gem hung around her neck.
A tall, muscular Bangaa with golden yellow scales landed next, wearing a bright green Adamantite armor set paired with a custom Adamantite helm fitted for Bangaa use, spiked boots, bone armlets refitted for Bangaas and wielded the treasured Bangaa Spike.
Next came a Hume with dark brown hair landed. He wore a blue hat with a feather accessory, a matching blue robe fastened with a gold ornamental brooch over a white high-collared shirt, black battle boots and gauntlets. He held a Tulwar, a sabre used by the palace guards in Cyril.
Finally, a white-furred Nu Mou set foot on the ground. He wore a pointy red hat adorned with stars, wore a white tunic with purple accents and purple boots. He held a rod inscribed with inverse Runes, which they call a Heretic Rod.
The ninja looked up. A young man with reddish brown hair peeked out from the opening, waiting for something. The ninja signaled the airship to fly to a safer location. The red-haired woman approached him.
"Do you think it is wise to send Luneth and the others off, my dear Marche? We could certainly use his many talents not only in Black and Red Magic, but also in close combat and even Ninjutsu." she asked, putting a hand on his shoulder. The ninja known as Marche turned to face her.
"Luneth isn't originally from Ivalice, my dear Ritz. He's having a difficult time adjusting to this world as it is, and having him fight hordes of Rozarrian soldiers is not a good idea. He was kind enough to ferry us here using the Invincible, and asking him to help us out on a Mission assigned to our Clan is asking too much." Marche replied.
The red mage known as Ritz nodded, retracting her hand. "What you say is true, my love. But I am merely suggesting. Ignus seems to be adjusting fairly well, don't you think? Should we have asked him to accompany us?"
The Moogle Knight skipped over to the two of them. "Kupo! Don't you have faith in Clan Nutsy, Ritz?" he chimed in.
Ritz turned to him, startled. "Why I... of course I do! Don't ever think I don't believe in my clan's power, Montblanc! We're Clan Nutsy, the strongest Clan in all of Ivalice!" she stammered.
The Viera made a low chuckle and approached Ritz. "I understand you just wanted to suggest, Ritzie. But we have a job to do now. 100,000,000 gil is at stake here. I do believe the Warriors of Light will want some payment after half a year of atmosphere sickness while ferrying us from Cyril to Dalmasca. It's the very least we can do to make up for the times they spewed their guts out in the toilet, their nightly fevers and hallucinations when exposed to Mist." she reminded.
Marche nodded, feeling a little guilty. "Alright. We split into two groups. Me, Ritz and Montblanc will go straight to the throne room, using the map given to us by Captain Ronsenburg." he began. Ritz and Montblanc nodded.
"Mackenroe, Emet and Monid will search the palace for any survivors." he continued. The Hume, the Bangaa and the Nu Mou nodded. "Mackenroe, Emet, I trust the two of you will heal anyone in need. A White Wind is most appreciated, Emet. Mackenroe, cast a Haste in there if you feel like you're moving too slow. Monid, don't shy out on your Air Renders and Far Fists just because you're a Dragoon now." he turned to them before looking at the Viera.
"As for Shara... well, you know your job." he grinned at her. Shara chuckled. "Destroy anyone in my path and maintain a connection with the Invincible in case we need a massive nuke. That airship's laser cannon is literally out-of-this-world in terms of everything. It's not even powered by Mist." she said.
Marche nodded with a grin. He pulled his katanas out and the others readied their weapons. "Clan Nutsy... ROLL OUT!" With his command, all seven of them dispersed.
TBC