Welcome to Adventu, your final fantasy rp haven. adventu focuses on both canon and original characters from different worlds and timelines that have all been pulled to the world of zephon: a familiar final fantasy-styled land where all adventurers will fight, explore, and make new personal connections.
at adventu, we believe that colorful story and plots far outweigh the need for a battle system. rp should be about the writing, the fun, and the creativity. you will see that the only system on our site is the encouragement to create amazing adventures with other members. welcome to adventu... how will you arrive?
year 5, quarter 3
Welcome one and all to our beautiful new skin! This marks the visual era of Adventu 4.0, our 4th and by far best design we've had. 3.0 suited our needs for a very long time, but as things are evolving around the site (and all for the better thanks to all of you), it was time for a new, sleek change. The Resource Site celebrity Pharaoh Leep was the amazing mastermind behind this with minor collaborations from your resident moogle. It's one-of-a-kind and suited specifically for Adventu. Click the image for a super easy new skin guide for a visual tour!
Final Fantasy Adventu is a roleplaying forum inspired by the Final Fantasy series. Images on the site are edited by KUPO of FF:A with all source material belonging to their respective artists (i.e. Square Enix, Pixiv Fantasia, etc). The board lyrics are from the Final Fantasy song "Otherworld" composed by Nobuo Uematsu and arranged by The Black Mages II.
The current skin was made by Pharaoh Leap of Pixel Perfect. Outside of that, individual posts and characters belong to their creators, and we claim no ownership to what which is not ours. Thank you for stopping by.
The trees whisper in perfect concert with the temperate winds that blew from the south, swaying back and forth alongside fields of grass hugged by snow-capped mountains. Deeper into the valleys of Zephon, tucked away from the view of modern civilization and hidden from the world, sat a realm suspended in history, trapped forever in the past for reasons still unknown to Kimahri Ronso, who ventured down from the lonely summit of Mount Hotan to explore new regions with a mind to improve his skills for combat. The Ronso do not shirk their training, even in times of leisure.[break][break]
His journey to the edge of Kahiko Valley took a full seven days to complete. The time between then and now had proven most fruitful, as Kimahri suffered no shortage of foodstuffs or fresh water, nor enemies to keep his spear sharp and his wits even sharper. Travel when the sun was brightest proved safe and offered tranquility and beauty wherever the Ronso guardian turned his watchful gaze. At night, under the pale silver moon, Kimahri's instincts could be challenged, pushed to their utmost limits, honed to perfection.[break][break]
Now, his adventures have carried him to this place, where ancient structures abandoned to time and decay lie scattered and overrun by nature, long since reclaimed by the Greenmother to be used by her children. Kimahri's ears twitch in anticipation of the unknown, chest expanding and relaxing with each deep breath he took, the feathers of his battle harness caressing the cool mountain breeze that swept through the valley. In his hands, the Spirit Lance ebbs in tune to its wielder's pulse, ready to engage.[break][break]
The Ronso quickly strides across the uneven landscape, using the crumbled structures as footing to navigate the rolling hills and slopes with ease. His legs carried him over walls and onto rooftops with carefully timed jumps. His acrobatics are sufficient enough to vault his way across to new platforms without breaking pace, rolling into sprints, leaping down chasms, or swinging across detritus to cover gaps as needed.[break][break]
Kimahri needed a vantage point, a place to obtain the lay of the land. Such a place must have been a city once, before the earth took her land back and the people returned to dust. But these ruins were too clustered, chaotic. He could not gain much on the ground. Intuition guides him to move upward.[break][break]
He slows the rate at which he moves, quickly scans his surroundings, and captures notice of a striking piece of architecture, bizarre and full of complex shapes unlike anything Kimahri had ever seen before, as if their very existence was an affront to the gods themselves—or was it in honor of them? A tetrad of smaller structures flanked this much larger one, each equally alien in its geometry, but only one was tall enough to offer the view he required. He chooses the southmost spire.[break][break]
Kimahri's ascension is tough, but not impossible. He climbs the building's protruding parapets and strange buttresses, forming a path that allowed him to swiftly hop and leap his way up the structure using well-timed jumps. Bars and needles jutting from the turrets allow for an additional means of bodily support, letting the Ronso use them as handholds so that he could swing and climb further upward.[break][break]
At last, he reaches the apex of the south spire. Kimahri skillfully pulls himself to the top of its crest and straightens his posture out, standing carefully atop the square cap as the only solid ground available to him, his long feline tail curled up so that he could maintain balance. His lungs burn from prolonged use, every muscle ached from the adrenaline surging through his veins, yet what rests on his mind is accomplishment.[break][break]
It seemed as if the primary building had some kind of balcony or antechamber nearby, as well, which opened a door for further exploration. Nothing obstructed the way inside; for all intents and purposes, Kimahri would be leaping into a great rectangular hole in the wall, its interior shrouded in darkness.[break][break]
Kimahri pivots his body, crouches, then grunts as he pushes himself toward the greater building nestled between the four smaller towers with all the strength his legs could summon, clearing a gap of nearly thirty feet with all the grace and precision of a panther at the peak of its prime. The Ronso lands against his knee, entering a forward roll when the rest of him makes contact with a stone floor, then braking himself to a full stop in a low crouch.[break][break]
He was inside, but his eyes would take time to adjust to the darkness. What would he find?
[attr="class","wassup1dangerfoot"]
[attr="class","wassup1dangertag"] open to anyone!
[attr="class","wassup1dangernotes"] Kimahri goes exploring at the Lost City! Don't mind if he just drops in on whatever you're doing, LOL
Kiva hadn’t been in Zephon for very long. But she was a quick study and had an endless thirst for knowledge. As such, it hadn’t taken her too long to read about the Lost City in the Kahiko Valley to the east of Torensten. Flipping through books beside the fire in a Torensten cafe, Kiva had read about the old magitechnology that kept this ancient city functioning. It had intrigued her and brought back memories of the forbidden machina she’d helped use as a crusader in Spira. Was this similar? Would there be something she recognized in this lost city? [break][break]
She’d put the book away and tried to put the call of adventure out of her mind. But, clearly, it hadn’t worked. She knew the journey would be long and fraught with peril, but Kiva wasn’t one to sit around idly. She needed to be doing something and since there was no crusader force to fight Sin here, she had to find something new. Exploring some lost ruins and learning secrets of this new world sounding like a good use of her time. At the very least, it would give her a chance to stretch her muscles and swing her sword. She didn’t want to lose the strength she’d spent years honing. [break][break]
The journey to Kahiko had been relatively easy. Kiva had run into only a few other travelers and even fewer enemies. Just a wandering monster here or there, nothing her gleaming gold and black greatsword could easily handle. Her legs felt strong and powerful as she traveled, invigorated by the prospect of adventure and danger! Idly, she realized she needed a job here. If she didn’t find something more concrete to do with her life in Zephon she would just keep throwing herself into danger for the adrenaline rush. [break][break]
After many long days of travel, Kiva found herself in the lush and vibrant Kahiko Valley. Her gaze drifted up towards the peaks on either side and towards the clouds drifting through the towering spires. Everywhere around her, greenery thrived. Birds called and animals shifted through the brush. This was a beautiful land, untouched by civilization for many, many years. The crumbling ruins dotting the hills of the valley told her as much. There was a sense of timeless peace here, of a world forgotten by time. She decided she loved it on sight. [break][break]
But the former crusader was no fool. She knew that the tranquil beauty of this land could just as easily hide danger. She knew that old machina stalked the valley, programmed to destroy outsiders on command. Kiva had some knowledge of how to work machinery, but would it operate the same way as in Spira? Would she be able to properly reprogram any of it? Or would she simply have to destroy it before it destroyed her? No matter, she held her sword at the ready in case she had to find out. But for whatever reason, she didn’t encounter any resistance as she stepped into the Lost City.[break][break]
Ahead rose the towering remains of an ancient city. Strange architecture of a sort she’d never seen reached towards the heavens. In its prime, this city must have been a sight to behold. Kiva longed to be able to see it, to witness this marvel of magic and technology. But alas, all that remained were these reminders of an era long-gone. Remnants of a greater age, lost in a timeless stasis. Creeping ivy coated much of the stone buildings now, threatening to pull down even more of the ancient architecture. As Kiva stepped lightly through the memories of city streets, she dodged fallen debris and the occasional artifact of an ancient people. A child’s toy here, a rusted shield there. She tried to ignore the bones, green with moss and blackened with time. [break][break]
Eventually, she made her way to the largest building in the center of the town. It must have been a palace of a sort, once. Perhaps this is where the rules of this town watched their land crumble and fall before them. Maybe they stood on that balcony and watched ruin come. Whatever that ruin might have been. The books Kiva had read hadn’t provided any insight there. [break][break]
The wooden doors were off their hinges at the top of a small flight of stairs. Nothing barred Kiva’s entry into this ancient palace. She stepped gingerly over a snake that she had spooked with her sudden arrival then found herself in the decaying remnants of a building that must once have been gorgeous. Light flickered in through broken windows and gaps in the stone, enough that she could see peeling paint on the walls, the shattered glass and ceramic, the metallic accents still gilding the walls and stairs that led up and away. [break][break]
She was looking around the entrance room, running her hand over centuries of dust on a beautiful mural on one wall when -- what was that? A noise, an ominous thudding from above her. She tensed and gripped her sword tight in one hand, eyes narrowed through the gloom of the ancient building. She wasn’t alone. The stairs looked suspect at best, but Kiva gingerly tested them, carefully finding the steps that were still solid to make her way upstairs, to investigate the source of the noise. Maybe it was just a beast that had made its home here, taking over from the people who had once called this land home. [break][break]
Cautiously, the Crusader peered around the corner into a darkened room at the top of the stairs. She’d thought this is where the noise originated from. Was this the room that connected to the balcony? Maybe. Kiva’s eyes were already adjusted to the gloom of the palace so it didn’t take her long to find the shape in the room. It was beastial in shape, but seemed to stand on two-legs. She held her sword defensively, staring down the newcomer. [break][break]
But then she fully looked him over. Kiva had expected to find a lot of things in this Lost City. She hadn’t thought much would surprise her. But this-- She could have never predicted this. [break][break]
After his sense of vision had finally acclimated itself, Kimahri took stock of his new surroundings with an observant eye. Sculpted stone lay around him no matter where he turned his gaze, each block chiseled into a variety of patterns and shapes he had never seen before, flecked with the ancient remnants of colored pigments and gilded metals. Lines of moss stretched between the masonry gaps where mortar once existed, forming verdant pockets and covering the walls in splotches of green. The sounds of nature echoed from outside, only to be gradually drowned out by a draft that emanated from deep within, suggesting that the great edifice was far larger and more spacious than he initially expected.[break][break]
In the midst of all the decay, Kimahri caught notice of a familiar sight. Bones. Human remains, long since stripped clean of all earthly substance by carrion feeders and the passage of time. Some looked discolored and worn down, others appeared truly ancient, yet all of them lay among the detritus of a civilization the Ronso knew nothing about. Even then, it did not take much for Kimahri to deduce that this had once been a place of great cultural importance in the distant past.[break][break]
Quietly, the beastkin scanned the balcony room for signs of danger, ready to bring his weapon up at the drop of a pin. Nothing immediately stood out as a threat, allowing him to take a calming breath, although Kimahri was still cautious enough to refrain from lowering his guard entirely, if the abundance of bones did not prove sufficient enough as a warning already.[break][break]
As he examined the ancient space, something else had caught Kimahri's attention. Moving closer brought a near-complete skeleton into view, with one additional detail: a metal blade, long since rusted over, lay wedged inside the clavicle. His fingers tensed around the Spirit Lance. It seemed as if some immense tragedy befell this place. Given this new context, Kimahri was compelled to perceive the structure's interior in a different light. He lowered his head, closed his eyes, and offered a silent prayer of repose to the forgotten dead. There was no Farplane in this world, no afterlife for their souls to find peace; it was the least a guardian could do, even if Kimahri was merely one in name only now.[break][break]
It takes but a single word from an unknown figure to break his concentration.[break][break]
His eyes burst open, narrow pinholes for pupils. The Spirit Lance spins around Kimahri's muscular form in a swirling golden streak, its many-angled blade now pointed directly at the stranger while both hands gripped fiercely against its shaft, feather adornments fluttering against the ancient breeze. Not a single noise exits his mouth; they aren't even worth so much as a snarl.[break][break]
Instead, Kimahri throws this newcomer—a woman bearing the scars of battle, brandishing a gilded greatsword cast in some form of onyx-hued metal—a menacing xanthous glare, as if implicitly commanding her to keep a distance. Ever since he had first woke up on this alien planet, the Ronso had quickly come to accept that he was the only one of his kind, an outlier in a world full of outliers. For her to know of his kind, here? That was impossible.[break][break]
No. Killing Sin was impossible, yet he had done precisely that.[break][break]
She had better start explaining herself. Fast.[break][break]
[attr="class","wassup1dangerfoot"]
[attr="class","wassup1dangertag"] @kiva
[attr="class","wassup1dangernotes"] (insert some clever joke or reference here, lmfao)
Kiva stared into the shadows, trying to make out the large bestial shape. A ronso, a native of Spira? Or just a similar beastial race native to Zephon? Her hands loosened on her sword hilt, even as the blue-furred man pointed a lance back at her. She was still ready, should he charge, but she tried to relax her threatening stance just a little. [break][break]
Then her surprise turned to raw shock as she was able to make out more of the ronso’s features. The coloration, the blue fur and long white-braided hair was rather typical of the race. That alone didn’t trigger any memories. But his horn, a ronso with a broken horn was beyond rare. That detail made her stare closer, taking in his entire presence. She knew this ronso. Or, at least she knew of him. He’d been there that fateful day not so long ago on the shores of the sea. Operation Mi’ihen, where his summoner had stood beside the crusaders in a last-ditch effort to repel Sin. [break][break]
Kiva had heard that the summoner and her guardians had survived the devastation that day. But she hadn’t caught a glimpse of them in the temple. There was no mistaking it though, this ronso with the feather-adorned staff and broken horn could be no other. Kiva took a step back and sheathed her sword on her back, hoping she wasn’t making a mistake by letter her guard down. But the summoner was a friend to the crusaders, surely that meant her guardians would be as well. Even if they both found themselves incongruously in this new land. [break][break]
He seemed unlikely to speak soon, so Kiva filled the silences stretching between them. “You were there with the Lady Yuna,” she said. “Operation Mi’ihen, I remember you.” Kiva didn’t know how much she cared for the teachings of Yevon, but it seemed respectful to adhere to the old ways now in the presence of a guardian. She quickly ran through the practiced motions of the Yevonite prayer, bowing her head slightly at the end so her blonde hair fell forward. “I am glad to see you survived the attack. Though I hadn’t thought to meet anyone from Spira here in Zephon.”
Tension grows between the two adventurers, yet Kimahri refuses to budge, even as the woman reconsiders her opportunity to take the initiative and strike first. She was smart to hesitate, that much could be said; a Ronso never yields in battle. This allowed the beastman to study the woman's features more closely. Blonde hair, cut and swept over so that it profiled the right side of her face. Grotesque scars above the left eye, which appeared functional. More beneath her chin, but they were indicative of a different injury. Burns, perhaps. Evidence of muscular definition suggested a lifetime of training to use a weapon, possiby the very sword she possessed.[break][break]
The silence between the two became deafening, up until the moment she decided to break it first, issuing a revelation which leaves Kimahri feeling implicitly startled: she knew who he was.[break][break]
No. That wasn't quite correct. Her recollections were entirely based on those of Yuna. That came as no surprise to Kimahri. Yet it was the details, the pure precision at which she conjured these memories out of thin air, that gave the Ronso pause.[break][break]
Operation Mi'ihen. A joint assault on Sin by the Crusaders and the Al Bhed. Coalitions from different walks of life. She must have been one of the former; her eyes lacked the distimctive emerald hue and spiral pattern that an Al Bhed's carried.[break][break]
(Yevon deceived them all. They wanted Sin to wipe them both out. All for the 'crime' of being non-believers, of being independent thinkers.)[break][break]
Maester Seymour Guado had loaned his aid to Yuna. They combined their magic while the Al Bhed supported the Crusaders with machina weaponry.[break][break]
(Seymour was a murderous traitor. Yevon ignored its own teachings on machina. They knew what they were doing.)[break][break]
Compelled by either instinct or prudence, the woman sheathes her weapon and runs through the Yevonite prayer, sweeping her arms around and bringing her hands in to form a circle, bowing out of respect for the beastkin guardian, then expresses gratitude that he, Yuna, and the others had survived the onslaught.[break][break]
(It was a hopeless massacre. Too many lives were lost that day. Offered to Sin, like cattle for slaughter.)[break][break]
Does Kimahri tell this woman the truth? Would it even matter now, in this world, where all cultures and clans faded away into abject obscurity and irrelevance? Though it does not show itself against his ever-stoic countenance, these inner reflections still claw fiercely at his aching, tired soul.[break][break]
One thing is certain, however: this stranger was no threat, misguided as her intentions were in performing the Yevon salute.[break][break]
Kimahri quietly exhales from flared nostrils, allowing his body to relax itself at long last. The Spirit Lance drifts closer to the ground until its tip hovered mere inches above the ancient stone floor, followed closely by a return to a neutral standing posture. His gaze softens, but only just enough so that it might convey the silent message that he understood her words.[break][break]
A part of him even wanted to return the gesture, as he could acknowledge the underlying purpose behind it. But Kimahri could not commit himself to replicate her movements, knowing that they were tied to an order of liars and hypocrites. That she felt urged to show him respect did nothing but remind the Ronso of everything he had lost, just for being the High Summoner's guardian.[break][break]
Kimahri says nothing back. He averts his gaze to the surrounding masonry, still mindful of whatever dangers lurked inside this structure, but fully hesitant to communicate with the newcomer.[break][break]
[attr="class","wassup1dangerfoot"]
[attr="class","wassup1dangertag"]y @kiva
[attr="class","wassup1dangernotes"] Nooo, Kimahri, she's trying to be nice! D:
The Ronso stood steady and stoic, bright eyes traveling over her, judging her. She saw them catch on her burn scars, sizing her up, learning more by observing than by speaking. He seemed to relax a little bit when she did, sensing there was no immediate threat here. But when she finally broke the silence that stretched seemingly without end between them, he seemed startled. It wasn’t an obvious shock, like the dropping of a jaw or a gasp. But it was a slight widening of the eyes, a shift in his stance. He was as surprised as she was to see someone else from Spira in this strange, forgotten place. [break][break]
He was still studying her in that silent, observant way of his, saying nothing. It made Kiva feel a little uncomfortable, like he was somehow laying her soul bare and clawing out her secrets. But she steeled herself and tried not to show any discomfort. He wasn’t attacking, he wasn’t hostile. He was a slightly familiar face in this strange world, even if not an overly friendly one. And that had to count for something. [break][break]
He did not echo her prayer, which surprised her. But maybe the loss at Mi’ihen had done something to shake his faith. She wouldn’t blame him, she wasn’t entirely sure she didn’t feel similar. So she just nodded again, abruptly, trying not to let the tension between them become too awkward. His gaze had softened now, at least. It was less searching, more neutral. She met his gaze with her own dark orange-tinged eyes. Trying to emulate his strength and stoicism. [break][break]
Then his gaze shifted to the surrounding masonry. She turned and looked around as well, unwilling to be surprised by some thread. “As we’re both in this strange place together, say we travel together for a bit?” she suggested. “Two weapons are better than one if we encounter a lurking thread along the way.” She began to wonder, belatedly, if he wasn't mute. Oh well, he could communicate through nods and gestures certainly.
Kimahri ponders over the contents of the ancient ruins. His intuition tell him of unnatural elements that lurked within. Dangerous things. Mechanical. His ears flicked at the sound of cogs and gears, old and rusted, churning in the deep dark below; too far away for the human female to detect with her own senses, further muffled by the musty draft that swept through the chambers of stone.[break][break]
The woman copies his motions, trying to present herself as less of an obvious burden. Her plan to appear competent was failing, right up until the moment she offers the ever-silent Ronso a suggestion: explore the ruins together, and eliminate the odds of an ambush by whatever roamed this building. It was practical, to say nothing of its somewhat awkward delivery.[break][break]
As he had been doing, Kimahri remained quiet as the proverbial grave. An elaborately carved opening in the masonry, designed as a portal leading toward the structure's interior proper, presents an image of what appeared to be a balcony overlooking some larger room inside. This captures the beastman's attention, as it means they are hugging the outskirts of an important location. Tightening his grip on the Spirit Lance, he begins to move his way over.[break][break]
He then stops abruptly, so that he could cast an expectant glance over at the swordswoman, as if to tell her to follow him closely. Friendly, he was not, but Kimahri was anything except hostile — not without the proper context for behaving so.[break][break]
Whether she obeyed or not mattered little to the Ronso; he intended to navigate this place, with or without her help. Kimahri clears the threshold in several strides, then directs his sharp yellow gaze upward.[break][break]
The chamber instantly reveals itself to be an opulent work of art, even though its metal gildings and fanfiful painted murals had long since fell victim to rot and discoloration. Sunken panels, called coffers, encircled the great dome above in five rings of twenty-eight individual squares, each one perfectly identical to the others and carved with precise geometric symmetry. The most striking detail of this portion rested in the circular opening above, called an oculus, and from it emanated a solemn pall of light which shot deep into the structure, revealing even more of its artful construction. Chiseled stone columns could be seen below, which explained the need for a balcony, but as Kimahri leaned over to see how far down they went, he was met back with an incredible stretch of space and several more floors below, each with a similar design.[break][break]
Still, there were no outwardly recognizable signs of the mechanisms that Kimahri's hearing had picked up. He shook his head without a word. They were not liable to encounter any danger here, which amounted to something remotely positive. However, the sheer space of this building only served to amplify the sense of isolation that came with it—a place far removed from time, hollow and lifeless, never to be discovered again, until now.[break][break]
Kimahri glanced back at his new ally of circumstance, then looked away, moving around the circular promenade for a better look of the interior. His footsteps were soft and slow, deliberately so, for he could not predict exactly how stable the floor was after so many centuries of neglect. He gathered his thoughts with each one taken, his feather-adorned spear eagerly awaiting the moment it could be buried into the flesh of some fiend foolish enough to strike at them.[break][break]
If she is—was—a Crusader in earnest, Kimahri fully expected her blade to prove it as fact. Anything less than such was only a liability in the greater scheme of avoiding a sneak attack.[break][break]
(As if the Crusaders could have stopped Sin, anyway; even then, what Yuna had achieved was an impossible miracle.)
[attr="class","wassup1dangerfoot"]
[attr="class","wassup1dangertag"] @kiva
[attr="class","wassup1dangernotes"] Looks like they're a party of two now!
The Ronso continued on in stony silence, barely even responding through expression or gesture. The unending silence started to make Kiva feel edgy, but she had no idea what to fill the air between them with. So she held her tongue and followed the beastial man further into the ruins. A pointed yellow-eyed glance over his shoulder commanded her to follow. The crusader stiffened, just a touch. Following orders had never been her strong suit, not even within the mercenary group. But she decided to give in, so she gave a terse nod. Uneven blonde hair fell forward as she did so. [break][break]
The chamber their emerged into was richly decorated and beautiful, despite the coating of dust that spoke of age and disuse. Light filtered in from above, illuminating the time-lost place. With soft footfalls, Kiva moved away from the Ronso to stare at the ancient murals along the walls. Gilding was still visible, shimmering through the rot and dust. But the paint colors were certainly a far cry from the vibrant hues they likely were ages ago, when this place was new. Her thoughts drifted in the silence, imagining what it must have looked like in its heyday. A glorious chamber of light and colors, of beauty and song. She wished she could have seen it. [break][break]
Kiva’s gaze drifted back to the Ronso. He was moving silently around the room as well. His expression was still completely unreadable. Without disrupting the oppressive silence, Kiva drifted towards a long hallway that presumably led outside eventually. The tile was cracked and crumbling, with small plants creeping through. The hall was shadowed and dark, with only a small amount of light filtering in. So she walked down cautiously, mindful of each footfall, ears listening for any strange noise. As she continued onward, she wrinkled her nose against the scent of decay that drifted through the hall. It smelled as though some creature had found its way in here to die. Recently, from the depth of the scent. [break][break]
And suddenly -- what was that? She stopped in her tracks, barely daring to breathe. There was a noise ahead - quiet and indistinct. Far away, still. Kiva glanced behind her, checking to see where her unlikely companion was. And her hand drifted instinctively to her back, to the place where her greatsword was sheathed. Maybe it was nothing, it could just be a rat or likewise small creature. But caution never hurt.
As he studied the crumbling architecture, absorbing every feature and detail with a careful mind, Kimahri could still sense the woman's uneasiness, even as she trailed behind him closely. It took hardly any mental effort to deduce that her perturbations were a result of his unbreakable silence. Humans were always dependent on speech to convey thoughts or express feelings. Evidently, she must not have much experience interacting with a Ronso, because even then, Kimahri proved himself an outlier among his own kind, never speaking unless it was actually relevant to do so.[break][break]
He was never much for idle conversation, anyway. She would just have to grow used to it.[break][break]
A noise from within the darkness interrupts his concentration. The woman is first to reach for her weapon, prepared to draw it again, even though she ought to have kept the blade outside of its scabbard. Expecting the has-been Crusader to remember her forms, Kimahri tightens his grip on the Spirit Lance, steadying his breath in preparation for an ambush.[break][break]
But it never comes. The Ronso's mind balances on the edge of anticipation. He growls low, while their unseen enemy continues to skulk about, refusing to step into the baleful light of the inner chamber. Yellow eyes cast prudent glances all around. His footing is limited here; the colonnade is half-collapsed and structurally unsound. There is no room to properly swing his weapon, in case he must.[break][break]
A disadvantage, if there was ever one.[break][break]
The longer Kimahri waited, the more irritable it would make him. And rage, according to those who knew him best, was Kimahri's most powerful weapon. Unbridled. Unfiltered. Unrestrained. Unlimited rage.[break][break]
And nothing proved deadlier in battle than a Ronso with a short temper.
[attr="class","wassup1dangerfoot"]
[attr="class","wassup1dangertag"] @kiva
[attr="class","wassup1dangernotes"] Drawing a blank at the moment! Enemies pls!
The ronso reacted to the same sound that she heard. A shifting of the wind, a brush against the stone wall. It sent an uneasy shiver down Kiva’s spine. Her fingers wrapped around the sword hilt and she pulled it loose with a soft shink of metal against leather. Her eyes were narrowed and focused as she looked around the chamber. It could be hiding behind any piece of fallen debris, any collapsed pillar or fallen stair. She didn’t even have any idea what it was. [break][break] The room was small and cluttered. A downside for both of them and their large weaponry. Greatswords and lances were meant for large battlegrounds with open space, not these tight and cramped quarters. They stood near each other, waiting for an enemy to emerge from the darkness. Kiva could hear his breath, soft and steady. A glance to the blue-furred man showed yellow eyes gleaming in the gloom. Her eyes narrowed and looked past him, surveying the rubble and hidden places. [break][break] A soft sound, like cloth against stone caught the crusader’s attention. A sharp breeze pulled at her short hair. And finally, from the shadows, the adversaries emerged. Shadows coalesced into shimmering, amorphous forms. They were partially transparent and wreathed in dark mist as they drifted towards the two Spirans. Kiva readied her stance and stared at them, trying to determine if they were openly hostile. They reminded her of farplane spirits, shimmering and forgotten wraiths of a time long past. Hollow eye sockets stared at them. They circled Kiva and the ronso, shifting and drifting through the debris filled room. They brought with them cold and chill. [break][break] But for now… the spirits just drifted closer and stared through shadowed eyes. Kiva glanced over at her companion, sharing unspoken questions. Do we fight? Do you know what they’re doing? She held her sword defensively, ready to swing into action at a moment’s notice.
