>You are one of three characters: Samson, a spoiled bard, Dyrus, an axe-wielding rebel's son, or Rene, an orphan adopted by a high-ranking Director of an ominous empire, now a prepromoted archer-lancer. POV will rotate between them on a thread-by-thread basis, with an off-chance that someone else might occasionally take a chapter.
>These protagonists' motivations and goals will very likely come into conflict with one another's.
>Character Death is always a possibility and sometimes an inevitability (this is Fire Emblem after all), but your actions can very easily influence who lives and who dies.
>Voting periods will last an average of ten to fifteen minutes, but this may be increased, decreased, or generally changed at any given moment based on voter turnout.
>Write-ins are encouraged.
>The previous threads are archived on suptg under "Silver Scales of the Past," and a pastebin summarizing each one's events will be provided at the start of the next, like so: pastebin.com/z0H1pTD2
Samson is certainly having the loveliest time on a prison island right now, not at all paralyzed with fear over the fact that any one of his allies or loved ones could simply up and be dragged away to fight an undead soldier to the very likely death. Or the fact that his only real point of communication with his beloved Millicent or his mother, Marion, is this aggressive Edwyg woman. Not at all helped by his learning that she's in because, as she put it, "couple years after I'm outta the arena, I'm on this one island and some noble's wife gets an axe in her skull. I get thrown in here." When asked if she did it, she responds, "what's it matter to you?"
So yeah, he's just peachy!
Dyrus, meanwhile, continues his trek towards the connecting point of the Desert, Central, and Coastal regions, where he and his grandfather are set to reunite with Lady Hauteclere, Laurise, and any companions they may have recruited. From there, they reason, they will need to plan the route they'll use to cut through the deserts to the Wolfskin region...
Last and by no means least, Rene continues going on missions in the name of the Empire, attempting to sort out the unforeseen reality that is her romantic relationship, and consume a rather impressive cake prepared for the occasion of her twenty-first birthday. She recalls that her father had prepared the Brave Bow she now wields for the occasion, and can't find herself to be mad at Omar or Marduk for the day's festivities. She and her sister are, currently, none the wiser to the fate of Director Waldrick, but an urgent Director's Meeting will be called to address the situation and how to progress from here, since these rebels are only gaining more traction now.
Marduk, thinking himself SO clever, gifted you a bushel of Belhara fruits. They're actually quite tasty, despite his sensitive palate and the Desert Director's known disdain for their flavor, so they're simply thanked for.
From Omar, a much more interesting gift was received. "This is an Iron Rune," he says, "keep it close to your heart, and the most critical of enemy strikes will be dulled to the power of any other. You are my commander, Rene, and even if we have our differences... It is a healer's duty to protect people. That is why I wish for you to hold this."
Cicero and Veiz, despite dualhandedly preparing the entirety of the festivity, languish in their lack of any concrete gift for you, though you assure them with earnesty that you don't mind.
Alfred offers to you a parasol, a purple one with a sapphire-colored trim, which he feels suits your aesthetics more than his.
Saye, meanwhile, does not give you jack, only even showing up for the food, but you mean. You barely know her anyway. She's just part of your team.
When all is said and done, your birthday is a small, but heartwarming break in what have been very trying times.
>A. Speak to someone (specify) >B. Skip ahead to the mood dropping
Ayden Peterson
>A. Speak to our Cicero
Ryan Phillips
>A. Speak to someone (Cicero or Veiz)
Henry Myers
Ah, your beloved bearded ball of anxiety. You find yourself tiredly leaning into him during another session of "reassure Cicero and Veiz that putting all this together was more than enough of a gift." Odd that the one day you were guaranteed off from bird hunting duty with Cato and Denim, you're more exhausted than ever, but you suppose it just sort of... Built up until now. He, in turn, wraps you a bit closer.
Looking away, lightly flushed with embarrassment, Veiz comments, "this... Is going to take some getting used to."
"I'm still not quite over it myself," you say, nuzzling more.
"Are we making you uncomfortable at all, Lady Veiz?" Cicero asks, sincerely. "We can wait for you to leave..."
"No, no," Veiz says, "it's just... Ahah, just weeks ago I could have sworn you said things were strictly platonic between the two of you, sister."
"Aand I was mistaken," you say. "Even I mess up sometimes..." You and Cicero share a chuckle when he strokes your hair idly.
"Still, though, I only wish I could have gotten Director Waldrick here for this day," Cicero says, still beat-up about that.
>A. You hope he's alright >B. It would've been nice... >C. You're sure he's thinking of us >D. He's done plenty for you already >E. Write-in response
