NorseQuest (A Norse Xianxia)

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Using a Finale this 'early' into a fight—there's barely any spilled blood, for crying out loud!—rankles you something fierce. However, there's little reason not to unleash the depths of your power. You have your foes outnumbered quite heavily, both in men and in fighting strength, so you don't need to conserve your strength much if any. Your foes are wounded and quickly tiring, largely lacking in the breadth of orthstirr to keep up with your tempo.

With that in mind, you spread your feet shoulder's width apart as you face down Jogrim. A mantle of dust in the shape of a horse's head wraps around his face and skull as he stokes his saemd just as you stoke yours. Power washes across the battlefield, painting it in a crimson hue as you add your frami to the mix.

His eyes widen as you grasp the half-realized technique lurking in the back of your mind. The tell-tale surge of strength heralding a Finale is the only warning Jogrim receives as you grit your teeth and let the world meet your power.

A field of inverse colors snaps out from your body as time trickles to a stop. Like the beating of a dying heart, the pace of time taps till silent as the wave washes across the landscape. In the blink of an eye, it envelops all those before you. Kjallakr, Kare, Stigmar, and all the other warriors fighting in the battle-churned ground—all are taken into time's frozen embrace.

However, when the wave hits Jogrim, blue orthstirr explodes from his body on its own like dust in the sun as his frami fuels a Finale of his own. It's obvious what it is. You're no fool, you did your research and learned your enemy's capabilities.

This is the Finale of Mirror Waltz, Total Reflection. A Finale used to counter hostile Finales, Total Reflection is able to turn incoming Finales against their user at the cost of not being able to initiate it by will.

You knew he'd use Total Reflection if you unleashed any of your other Finales, but what you weren't counting on was it being used against Time Stands Still. Unlike the Flame-Tending Blade or Thermic Reckoning, Time Stands Still isn't an attack. Time Stands Still applies an effect upon all those in your sphere of influence, freezing them in time while allowing you to act. That's all it does, no more, no less. By all rights, Total Reflection shouldn't have trigged from Time Stands Still. And, for the most part, it didn't.

And yet, though imperfect, it did.

Still encased in frozen time, the reflected wave of Time Stands Still washes back across the field of inverted colors. The colors it touched should've turned back to normal—that's what you'd have expected to happen, at least—but they don't. Where the wave of time-stopping power touches frozen colors, it changes from inverted to something else entirely—colors your feeble human mind simply lacks the potential to comprehend.

Leaving a wake of doubly-frozen time behind it, the wave of invisible force finally reaches you.

|-{X}-|-{X}-|-{X}-|

As perception breaks down and reality folds under the weight of fraying ends, an old man hunches over what resembles a tree in miniature as he gently allows water droplets to spill from the tiny bottle in his hand.

Tall and spindly, with a big floppy hat on his wispy-haired head, the man grimaces as he stands up straight, a hand pressed to his lower back. Arms stretching overhead, the man does nothing to stifle a yawn as works his neck and sighs. Reaching into his shabby jacket pocket, the man stows the bottle before retrieving an odd length of well-worn and lovingly-polished wood ending in a hollowed-out cup. Digging his thumb into the basin of the wood cup, sweet-smelling smoke starts trailing from around his thumb as he takes a long, drawn-out drag.

Casting his gaze across the garden of miniature trees both horrifyingly strange and appallingly familiar, he stiffens as his eyes fall on you. A red eye lazily bounces around the socket as a blue twin narrows in confusion.

"You... You're not supposed to be here."

Blue and red turn to purple as you're suddenly not.

|-{X}-|-{X}-|-{X}-|

Like it was trapped beneath a mountain of iron, the world rattles to a stop in the grip of unrelenting pressure. Iron Embrace—the Finale that both has and has not always existed in your memories—wraps around all in sight as teeth snap shut hard enough to crack and simply breathing becomes a tiresome chore in the face of all-encompassing weight.

Breath burns in your lungs as you take a step both sure and unsteady. Dual sets of memories war in your mind as you struggle to make sense of reality around you. What once froze time now resembles weight upon bones, and yet, it always has been that way. Iron Embrace imprisons all before it under a mountain of metal. That's what it does, arresting movement both active and not, forcing all to stand as still as the fully-bodily-chained prisoner.

The scent of toasting bread wafts past your nose as you shake your head and resolve to set those memories aside. When you're not in the middle of a bloody battle—the limbs and bodies strewn across the battlefield are evidence enough of that—you can address them in full, but, for now, you'll have to turn your focus on more pressing matters.

Hostile muscles strain against the a mountain as your crimson power washes out from your body. Crimson sparks like falling stars streak across the battlefield, stretching from your eyes to your chosen foes, as the blasts impact against wide-eyed men. Vision seared to a crimson hue, there's little Kjallakr or Griss' men can do the cutting edge of Sagaseeker cuts through the tendons at the back of their ankles.

Spreading your arms wide, your fingers find the invisible folds of ever-present Standstill as you collect the cloth for your third and final action in this period of weight-forced motionlessness. As if propelled by the straining arms of the readied bow, the twin Inertia-Arresting Throws spin out at their targets. Like a well-placed arrow, the twirling cloaks of unseen stopping force wrap around the bodies of Kjallakr and the raging Berserk, trapping them further once your Finale ends.

As if summoned by the thought passing across your mind, Iron Embrace finally drops away from the limbs of friend and foe alike as it recedes back to the depths of your soul.

Men drop like discarded toys as tendons snap. Muscles bounce up calves as hands claw at seared retinas. Muscles struggle against the invisible bounds of Standstill as battle picks back up after the momentary pause.

Swords clash. Men scream. Blood spills. All is once more as it should be as you face off against Jogrim.

His eyes, though narrowed and outwardly calm, betray the worries raging in his mind as his men and allies scream in pain and agony. He can't help but flick his gaze to his wounded men as your warrior's weapons do their work. His jaw works itself as he readjusts his holds on his weapons again and again, never finding a comfortable grip as he watches for the right moment to strike.

Never one to refuse an opportunity, you inwardly thank Jogrim for sending the initiative your way as crimson wings propel you into the air. Fire streaks from the lightning-sheathed Sagaseeker as you lift him high overhead. Flames fuel your flight, adding great speed to your decent as Jogrim makes his move.

His good arm draws the spear back as far as it'll go as lightning of his own erupts across the Storm-Iron blade. His teeth grit while his boots dig deep into the motion-muddied earth as he leans forward, putting his entire body behind the spear-throw soon to be heading your way. Brilliantly blue orthstirr explodes from his body as he contests your strength with his own.

The spear leaves his hand just as Sagaseeker closes the gap and the test of speed begins in earnest.
(Flashfire Cleave: 36+39+50=125 vs Stormshock Spear: 32+35+41=108, Halla Wins!)
Twisting your body aside at the very last moment, the shock-covered spear flies unopposed as Sagaseeker completes his journey. The impact knocks Jogrim helmet from his head as blood pours freely from the chin-to-chest crevice cleaved from his body.

Jogrim staggers, stumbling three steps to the side as you dig a trench as you skid to a stop. His hands press uselessly against the gaping chest wound upon his person as you leap to capitalize. What stops you, though, is the sound of a body hitting the ground and a loud voice rumbling across the killing grounds.

"Jogrim!" Kare's fury rattles bones as his deafening roar silences the screams and cries of wounded, dying men. His foe lies bisected from head to bottom at his feet, the work of a certain scything trick Kare's found useful. Sword slick with cloying blood and charnel gore, he points his blade at his hated foe as his body explodes with golden flames. "You're mine!"

As he advances on a similarly golden flame-engulfed Jogrim—who grimly hefts his sword and draws his sax—an odd song drifts across the battlefield, further quieting the sounds of bloodshed. A voice like golden honey fills your ears as all eyes fall to the Skald upon the boulder.

Alvis spreads his arms wide as your mind fails to find meaning in his words. Golden flames pour from his mouth as the source of the power makes itself known. War horns like thunder blare in the distance as he takes all the collective weight of the moment and throws it upon the duel soon taking place before your eyes.

(Round Break: Skaldic Interference)
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(Tactics: 10+12+2(Rounds)) 24 Successes

The battle has largely swung in your favor, with Griss' men largely being taken out of the fight and the feats of your men playing a large part in the direction of the current tide. Notable events in the fight are as follows:

Abjorn, having caught up with Kjallakr thanks to your help, has promptly broken off his other arm and is now starting in on the remaining foes around him. Kjallakr, now missing both his arms and his weapons along with them, is forced to surrender as he now lacks any means to continue the fight.

Eric, in a show of frankly shocking skill, manages to disarm—both literally and figuratively—three separate men. They'll heal in time with Aspects, but the loss of primary weapons will hurt their fighting strength significantly.

Sten, having made it to the Berserk, now fights side by side with Kurt as they bring the raging Berserk to his knees. Jamming a three-foot spike of iron through his knees, Sten slams a palm against the Berserk's face as he recites the origin of teeth and causes the Berserk's teeth to explode in his skull, shredding it from the inside-out.

Steve—one of the warriors Halfdan brought along—makes a split-second decision to swing his axe just as a spear throw was about to take Jordan through the neck. Deflected by an errant axe-swing, the spear only bounces off Jordan's armor as Jordan exchanges a heart-felt nod with Steve.

Trausti, as ill-luck would have it, was returning to the fight just as the spear bounced off Jordan's armor and found a new home in Trausti's knee. It wasn't a deep wound, barely more than a scratch on a man as big as him, but events as bad as that happening twice in a row are signs that one shouldn't be fighting on this day. Taking heed of the warning signs, Trausti slides his axe across his back as he takes a glum seat on a stump of a tree snapped in half in the fighting.

-~-~-

As Jogrim is now dueling Kare, you're freed from your fight to turn your attention to the rest of the battle. Your men could use your aid—though they don't need it—and your enemies require killing. There's only about seven or so foes still in the fight, the rest having either surrendered, been pacified, or killed.

With the battle so in your favor, you can take a moment to rest if you like and turn your attention to matters of support.

Endurance: (19/19) | Frenzy: (8/8) (+8 to all Combat Rolls) | Armor: (21/21) (+9 to Defense Rolls)
Orthstirr: (17/65) | Odr: (43)
(X) Frami: 22 | ( ) Virthing: 22 | (X) Saemd: 21
Your Combat Dice Pool for Basic Moves is 8d6

What do you do?
[ ] Plan Name
-[ ] Goal: Write in
-[ ] Tricks: Write in up to Capacity (14)
-[ ] Orthstirr: Write in

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AN: Sorry about last update, folks—for new readers catching up, I'm referring to a now-de-threadmarked post that just wasn't very good. I hope that this one is better!

No moratorium.