The Great War

Clock-Clock-Clock-Clock.. Clock.... Clock.... Clock....... Clock.

Her black Thigh high block heel boots making a distinctive noise against the stone of the palace, staring at the floor as she walked. A pair of legs coming into her vision, she slowed her stride to a stop. The legs turned into a torso, then shoulders, then the visage of the very man who summoned her. Now looking up eye to eye with the large man in front of her, a brief silence was exchanged.

With a voice so strong it may have swayed the Gods themselves, he spoke. "The land has her faith in you."

Behind a white scarf wrapped around her face a small, shrill voice retorted. "She is foolish... Excuse me."

The King stepped to the side, allowing the girl to pass. His massive frame dwarfing her own.

Clock-clock-clock-clock-clock-

"You must have faith yourself, no?" The man added on, looking as the girl got smaller and smaller down the corridor.

"..."

Not everything needed response.

Clock-clock-clock-clock-clock-...

The corridor began to open up, light pouring in as well as the cheers and hoorahs of the crowd. The green of the grass glowed vibrantly against the rays of the sun, the podium illuminated perfectly for the sin's unveiling. The light getting closer and closer, her face began to shine as the grass did. Her plum hair shifted with the wind, her mulberry irises contrasted her pale skin. A mid-sleeve black blazer and her thigh highs the only garments aside from her underwear. Too many clothes weighed her down. A black ribbon tying her left pigtail, and a white one tying her right, A bandage wrapped around her right leg and 5 bronze bangles on her left wrist were her only accessories. Her most prized possession, Muramasa, hanged from a thick string of twine over her shoulder, the blade also wrapped in bandages.

The first to arrive, she looked around at the vast crowd of people. A large man was previously speaking to them earlier seemingly raring the crowd up for the event. Taking her stand at the podium, Raija, the sin of Wrath, waited for her orders. Waiting for her truth.

Bastion the inquisitor was sat in the only room he would ever go in when in a brothel the office. Gazing at a parchment of names he smirks knowing this is exactly what he needed to avoid being surprised.

After having made his rounds gathering what information he could in exchange for coins Bastion would continue along his merry way.
The parchment Bastion had acquired had the names of who he would be working with it seems that those in the capital had some loose lips. He paid extra to get the names out of whose lips let this slip though.
It was this information that served him well because while he may have been invited where was the fun in entering the proper way when he could lord some information over someone.

“You know if I were you I be worried a guard with loose lips may lose his head” Bastion teased enjoying the reaction of the guard who was escorting him noticing how he tensed up. “But don’t worry the king never has to know you let it slip to me you just owe me” Bastion stated his terms he was like a cat that knew it had cornered the mouse.

This ultimately allowed him to arrive somewhat early to the ceremony sat in the castle drinking tea he would reflect on exactly how nervous he had made that guard.

Edenborough, Courtyard within the Castle of the King

King Hervouet stepped out onto the balcony to a roar of applause. He smiled graciously, looking to his subjects wearing a large and confident smile. He couldn’t afford to let the populace begin to fester doubts about the upcoming War. The King raised his hand, signaling for everybody to quiet down. In mere seconds, one could hear a mouse scurry across the ground.

“Men and Women of Britannia! Aristocrats as well as the hard-working populace! Mothers, fathers, brothers and sisters of Britannia! I come to you today to coronet a new band of knights. The Deadly Sins!” He began.

The populace couldn’t help but erupt in cheer and applause. King Hervouet raised his hands again. “Victorious warriors win first and then go to war, while defeated warriors go to war first and then seek to win. These Sins are our victorious warriors! Their list of individual accolades stretches further than Rapunzel’s hair!” King Hervouet gestured toward the elevated podium.

“It’s only right I introduce the pride of my life, and a Hero to our people first. The Knight of Pride is none other than, Azorius the Hero. Azorius who slayed several dragons by himself and routinely puts his life on the line to help Britannia in everyday pursuits. Come forth, Pride!” King Hervouet called, to the roar of the crowd.

Azorius jumped onto the podium and raised his hands, spinning around and pumping the crowd up as he reached his designated spot on the podium. He bowed a few times toward the populace before turning and looking back at his father. Their eyes met briefly but a thousand words were conveyed in the glance. Azorius understood what was expected of him.

“The Knight of Sloth comes next. She’s near and dear to Britannia and myself, propelling our knowledge of magicka forward with her endeavors and pursuits. Her genius-level intellect is a blessing and will most certainly come in handy in the upcoming days of war. Aoife Lindbloom, Knight of Sloth, come forth!”

Hervouet grinned sheepishly while rubbing his head. “Where should I begin with our next knight? Ladies, you might know him better than anyone else. Fellas, I’d begin to worry if your wife claims she spent time with him. The Knight of Lust, Bastion Speyers the Inquisitor! A face rarely seen on the battlefield, but responsible for the deaths of many an enemy of Britannia! Rumor has it he’s brought pleasure to all the women of Britannia! Come forth, Knight of Lust!”

“Our next hero is a man whose only goal is strength! He showed up on the doorstep of our Holy Knights still a young man, though able to defeat some of our most seasoned warriors. Larry the Voracious is our Knight of Greed! Capable of sapping the strength of his enemies, Larry fights fire with fire. Knight of Greed, come forth!” He called. An awkward silence filled the air when nobody took the podium. Even the King seemed a bit confused but didn’t let it disrupt him too much.

He cleared his throat. “I’ll now introduce the leader of the Sins. She hails from the Demon clan…” He began. This immediately elicited murmurs and groans from the populace. “Now, now everyone. I know the fears you harbor. She, along with the rest of the Sins were personally chosen by me. They have all of my trust and by extension, should have all the trust of the motherland. All the trust of Britannia,” He scolded. “Centuries old, Raija is a very powerful demoness with a sacred treasure that’s helped her win each battle she’s been in within five seconds. The Knight of Wrath, come forth!” He called.

Though the populace were still shaky about the open coronation of a Demon into the Heroes’ band of Knights, they all roared and applauded loudly for their apparent saviors. “Britannia, you’ve seen your Heroes! Etch their faces into your memories. These knights will help Britannia prevail in this upcoming war!”

After the fanfare concluded he addressed the Sins directly, “Sins. Meet me within the palace. You’ll be guided by Pride,” King Hervouet said turning his back and disappearing from the balcony.

Switzerland, Emperor Nakamura’s Palace

Emperor Nakamura offered a cup of Jasmine tea to the warriors. He blew gently on his own cup before taking a long and slow sip. He exhaled softly then met with each of their eyes. “As you all might have heard, there’s a war looming in the horizons. The supreme art of war is to subdue your enemy without fighting. That’s why I’ve gathered you all unbeknownst to our commanders and generals. You lot are who I’ve concluded to be the strongest warriors New Japan has to offer. I won’t waste our time with introductions, as you have ample time once you’ve set off on your mission to do so.”

He took another sip as a pink sakura petal danced in the air until it landed on the ground. Emperor Nakamura became deathly serious. “You’re mission: Infiltrate Oslo and slay their Chieftains, Fridmund and Drifa. What’s the goal of such a suicide mission? Avoid a full-scale war. You have permission to strike down anyone who stands in the way of the success of your mission. The greatest victory is that which requires no battle. Move silently during the night and strike hard like a thunderbolt. I want you lot to move out immediately. I’ve prepared supplies for you within the palace. If you have any questions, now is the time to inquire.”

Takeshi raised his hand, “Emperor... if I may,” He requested.

Emperor Nakamura nodded gently, motioning for Takeshi to speak.

“A preemptive strike is your plan, correct?” Takeshi clarified, to which the Emperor nodded once again. Takeshi looked between his contemporaries. He recognized Kikyo, a respected mage and priestess within New Japan. The other two, Kinchai and Callan, were less recognizable. “Do you really believe a small platoon such as ours has enough strength?”

Emperor Nakamura chuckled lightly and took another sip. “Of course. Your abilities complement each other. Your accolades are of legend. If I was going to bet the kingdom which I fought for on the skills of any warriors, it would be you all.” Nakamura looked at the other three warriors, “are there any other questions?”

Oslo, Chieftain’s Longhouse

Fridmund laughed heartily, tossing a bare fowl bone to the ground. He had stripped it clean in one fell swoop. “Drifa! The feast is wonderful!” He hollered, clapping his wife against her back with joy. “Chef! Another fowl! Another duck! Bring the reptile! Our warriors need nourishment before they pour their hearts into the fight!”

Drifa spit out the bones of what used to be an elk. “Aye! Chef, keep the food coming!” The two Chieftains sat at the head of a long table, under the bright and sunny day. Drifa nudged her husband as she noticed Ahsha coming toward the two. She smiled brightly. Drifa was very fond of the shaman. She lifted a mug of mead to her, “Whisperer of the Gods! Come forth! Sit, drink and eat with us!”

”Greetings and blessings to you both, Chiefs,” she bowed her head slightly to them in respect, her headdress remaining upright. “I come to you in this time of celebration, to introduce you to my latest ward. Step forward, girl.”

The two Chiefs looked toward the young girl, inspecting her up and down. Though she seemed a capable fighter, they weren’t particularly impressed. Fridmund grinned, “any fighter you bring to us is worth looking over, Ahsha. But if you’re entering the fray, you may beat everyone here!” He laughed heartily once again.

Fridmund wiped mead from his beard and stood up, “hear hear!” He hollered. All idle chatter quickly died down, the Vikings offering their ears toward their Chief. “Vikings, big and small! Strong and useless! Hear me!” He looked out at the large crowd that only seemed to get bigger and bigger. “My wife and I originally planned to have a battle royal of fifty warriors…” He began.

Drifa stood up and interjected, “but you lot allowed weaklings to join us in the feast! There are considerably more than 50 present!” Together, the couple stood up and turned around to the open clearing. Sharing a glance, they looked down at the ground and slapped it with their bare hands. An elevated platform began raising from the earth, approximately seven feet off the ground. The ring itself was large enough to house around 100 warriors of varying sizes. Two pillars per Chieftain sat in each corner.

Drifa continued where Fridmund left off, “all who wish to enter, step onto the battle grounds! Drop your food and your mead where you stand or sit. The rules are clear: Don’t fall out of the ring and don’t lose your battle! Anyone unable to battle will be disqualified! Death is frowned upon…”

Fridmund smirked, “but if anyone is weak enough to die here, pray Ahsha has taught you the way to Valhalla! Fighters, take your positions! We will start momentarily.”

Harald pushed several fighters out of his way as he rushed onto the ring. He clutched his weapons and swung them in his hands, keeping his eyes peeled at his competition. “I’ll definitely be one of the last people standing…” He swore.

Respectfully remaining silent, Kikiyo listened carefully to the emperors words. Her facial expression was stoic, however; she was more than ecstatic to be specifically chosen. She knew what she was capable of and did not want to disappoint. It was then that a male standing beside her would speak up. His words brought a smirk to curl against Kikiyo's lips. "One should have more confidence within yourself." She stated with a simple nod of her head. The female awaited for any last questions to be asked before departing and preparing for the voyage.

Aoife proudly took her place on the podium, and her jaw dropped at the sheer crowd that had turned up. Mentally, she thanked Anne and the maids, for making her presentable. This was clearly no occasion for lab hermit attire. The cheering, elated crowd filled her with determination, and she smiled wide and waved back, wanting to send back the positive energy they were sending her way.

She peeked at her fellow champions. She hadn't had the chance to meet all of them properly, yet, more just nods in the corridors. It would be good to finally get around to that war counsel, she thought. The lab was going to devoid of her pretty soon, she was going to be needed.

= = = = = = 

Ahsha laughed heartily at the chief's comments. 

"The last time I entered one of these, child, it was your great great grandfather that begged I used his favorite hammer. He was thirteen, and too young to yet fight, but you remember was a renowned blacksmith he was, of course. The very same hammer that now lies in your home. Still got plenty of fight in it, though, he built things to last!"

She turned to her ward, and lowered her voice, the smile gone.

"This is your last trial, child. We both know you are no warrior. But you are a shaman. Show yourself to be worthy to the gods, by defeating those stronger than you with your gifts. Valhalla awaits, and the chiefs smell green on you. Fail here, and you will shame me. And those that shame me....find other paths to Valhalla."

The ward nodded. "Yes, Ahsha." Before running down, into the fray.

“Britannia, you’ve seen your Heroes! Etch their faces into your memories. These knights will help Britannia prevail in this upcoming war!”

Larry could hear the booming voice of the King echoing over the walls of the palace courtyard. He had arrived shortly after the King began his speech, which the guards considered a good time to cut off entry for any stragglers. Security measures, they called it. They claimed they did not recognize him,, even after introducing himself. It took everything Larry had to keep from lashing out at them, but he knew giving in to his anger would not end well at all. Trying to sneak into the palace would probably meet a bad end as well. Today was the one day he had to stay calm, no matter what. However, the guards did agree to have him be met by the security chief once the King was finished, to verify that he was who he said he was. So, unfortunately, he had to wait, albeit rather impatiently.

“Sins.. Meet me within the palace. You’ll be guided by Pride,”

Upon hearing his final words,Larry looked up at the wall. "Finally...." he murmured, tapping his arm repeatedly with his finger. "Can we get moving now? This is seriously irritating," he said with a low growl.

=========

If you have any questions, now is the time to inquire.”

Kinchai had managed to remain silent the entire time that Emperor Nakamura spoke. His eyes closed as he silently took in the man's powerfully inspiring words. However hearing this, his eyes finally opened, although he was beaten to the first question by Takeshi, a respected warrior he had heard some stories about. Upon Takeshi's questioning, he took note of the Emperor's response. Not a surprise that Takeshi was unfamiliar with him or his brother. Many of their most noted exploits have been lost to time, with not many who know the true story behind them. And before his time, of course. It would be extremely unlikely for him to know them by appearance, to say the least.

“Are there any other questions?”

Kinchai was next to raise his hand, waiting for a response before he would speak himself. "Emperor.......I do not intend to question your plans or decision, so please forgive me if my words seem to imply such. But i feel compelled to ask.......but are you quite sure that we all present are the correct choice for this task?" Anyone who were listening to him could take his questioning from several perspectives. Was he questioning the capabilities of his soon-to-be allies? Was he questioning himself? Was he questioning their ability to unite and function as a team? But he knew the Emperor would understand what he meant. It was more than likely that Nakamura knew of the history between him and his brother, at least some of it. And that Kinchai did not believe he could be trusted. And that lack of trust between the two would definitely be an obstacle in the group's synchronicity to begin with.

=========

Bryn took heed as Fridmund and Drifa began to speak to them all. She could already feel the effects of her drinks washing over her. A sure sign that only the good stuff was out for this celebration. As they commented on the extra gathering of weaklings, she took a good look around. Clearly more here than were invited. And she knew there was only one remedy, which she was almost immediately proven right as the two Chiefs created an arena for them all. She couldn't help but let a smirk creep across her face. They had this planned all along, had to. Simply a way to get more entertainment, the likely answer. Of course, she had zero objections.

"All who wish to enter, step onto the battle grounds! Drop your food and your mead where you stand or sit. The rules are clear: Don’t fall out of the ring and don’t lose your battle! Anyone unable to battle will be disqualified! Death is frowned upon…”

Bryn wasted no more time and quickly made her way to the ring, shoving aside what men were too slow to either beat her there or to get out of her way. She reached her right hand over her shoulder and gripped the heavy hammer that laid upon her back, raising and twirling it twice before grabbing her shield with the other. She took a few moments to gaze around at what would appear to be her competition. Honestly, most barely even caught a second glance. However, there were a few whom she could tell at first glance would put up something of a good fight.

Taking a bow Bastion flashed a smile towards the ladies in the crowd and a smug grin towards the men.
“I wouldn’t say all ladies but I try” He muttered quietly but confidently. He had decided to take advantage of this opportunity to wink at the guard he had intimidated before with his knowledge of the guards loose lips.
Bastion thoughts on the champions weren’t all that interesting the main one that caught his eye was sloth. She had his attention mainly because she was the hardest to get any kind of information about.

After her fill of the dizzyingly positive vibe of the Brittanian People's applause, Aoife gave one last wave, then headed back into the palace, mentally scolding herself for waving like a little girl. War generals did not wave gaily back to the crowd. She then noted her height compared to the other heroes, and realized that no matter what action she'd made, they would view her as a little girl.

On the walk through the castle, Anne bustled past her with a pile of linens, and gave Aoife a wide grin. She'd been received well. Aoife beamed back, and continued to follow the Hero of Pride.

= = = = = = = =

Freya shivered a little in anticipation as she strode into the fray, knowing that failing Ahsha would not be her fate.

Focusing, she let out a war cry, and pulled her hammer from her back, and with some whispers to the Gods, flung herself and the hammer down into a circle of men and women larger than she. As the hammer hit the ground, it sent a shockwave that sent the warriors flying in all directions from her, landing on the muddy ground.

"Passable." Ahsha whispered to herself. "And remember, for each action...a price."

Freya stood still a moment, and coughed once, splattering a little blood into her palm. She pulled her hammer from the muck, and gave a war cry.

"Better." Ahsha muttered.