Nian

A list of ways Nian probably found the exit: Spider-crawling. Through stabbing holes into the side of the airship with her claws, the fiend was likely to cause leaks into the cargo hold. However, given Cardinal's fortune, the vessel was going to maintain capability. By scaling the exterior of the room, as large was it was, unabated by foreign sources, the stalker was likely capable of punting herself beyond reach of danger before the chaos started. By magnitude of the room. Almost like a warehouse, the bundle of crates that separated her presence from the rest of the

Oh. Sure it was. Nian's sharp eyes bore into the outline of the other player's figure, once the vagrant stopped to turn around, form taut but unflinching. The gauntlets on her arm posed an imposing threat. Because they were. And because the royal had just stopped in front of a pillar. In the dim light that poured through from their crack into the cargo, their ruler was not to be outdone. Hence the raise of her oblivion, and a lowered tilt of her head. "No," the king demanded. "You're going that way." The slam of the back of her index against a glass panel covering an alarm set the wo

Direction -- they needed it. And Nian would provide it to them, with or without a map of the ship that they found themselves on. And yet, the reckless imbeciles were the ones to move first. Just as the king released herself from her turtle-shell grip, claws none the worse for wear from her protection, did they fling themselves off into the murky abyss of stacked cubes. The monarch was not one to take risks like that just yet. She stretched, knowing the physical effort, the toll that would be on her figure in the future. Rolled her shoulders. Ensured her equipment was in gear. Then, a

"Hey! Oi!" And no sooner did she leave her captain's quarters did her helm get taken away from her. The nerve of lowly stowaways! A glimmer of light that faded to black forged steel upon steel on the king's arms, that void oblivion, and with racing steps she'd nearly taken to fight for her right at the (vessel's) throne. Yet, whatever the man seemed to be doing at the controls, it looked like he knew more -- and better -- than whatever stuck up fake-princess she'd seen on that other ship. And so, her figure only seemed to barricade the doorway as the monarch watched on, through the v

If Nian had any reason for her depature's delay, it was simple: what in the world were the other morons in the sky doing, firing shots at other vessels? The people upon them had to be players, she knew that much. If it'd been a simple discernment of ship upon ship, then the game would've made it obvious to the onlookers about such feedback. Unfortunately, though the chase seemed to be on, the king didn't have good eyes on the target, and it would be remiss for someone of such high importance to have gone into the crossfire without understanding. That was until she noticed a couple o

The math worked out perfectly. Remove whatever imbecile was on the throne at the moment, with some crazy snot-nosed kid going after his head, and then eliminate the young-and-dumb threat. Easy, the royal thought, once she'd shuffled up behind the (still-yet-to-be-formed) crowd gathering by the prince's side. At least, for whatever reason, Lamont did save them from what strange affect he'd activated (or didn't) earlier, and it would do well to follow in his lead for the time being -- keep your friends and your enemies closer, after all. That, and the escape maneuver had earned the man some resp

If the king had willed herself to listen, dissatisfied, it was because of the lack of scavengable materials in their vicinity, despite her apt and cautious looking. "Ah," Nian commented dryly, eyes sweeping over the waves of green that ebbed as the wind gusted through and along the hills. "So to summarize it, you ran away from civilian life to chase a 'noble goal'." For a second, she glanced back at the plated armor still glimmering from the midday sun. Perhaps he really was roleplaying, after all. "You say your work back in town would be for nothing." The player gestured as she spoke, lo

Gifts from other players. She did wonder where any of them had gotten their own resources from, to be able to afford such dazzling armor. That, and if the man she spoke to did claim to be one to tend to the other refugees in the Town of Beginnings, she didn't think they would have much to spare. Nian had squatted when Ranganok had spoken, plucking another shimmering leaf from its stem when the object had shone to life by her feet. She'd rise with an exhale, breath quiet, still perplex by the choice of gift. "Then it must've been cushy," she continued, returning the herb to her inventory.

So she found another. Scooped the item up in her hands. Three out of five was good progress, but if it was up to her, she would've been more than far gone with these starter quests. With Ranganok in the distance as an eye sore, sun shining upon him as though choosing a holy favoured, the woman couldn't help but mistake the player as a material from time to time. And fair enough; she knew she'd been snappy, but let it not be spoken that the king had temper tantrums, nor that they didn't look after their followers. With a keen eye out for other pick-ups, Nian closed in on the other player.

So... what? Autism? Or simply just a lack of socialization with others at a young age? Not that it was her responsibility to resolve knock-off R's situation. But with the adjacency of the topics, surely someone in his position must've picked up on useful mimicry behaviour. Whatever. Nian scoffed once again as the man bowed, almost akin to an NPC back in town. Who even bowed these days? It seemed like such an ancient trope, almost dating back to Victorian ages -- ah, but then again, Ragna-eggnog did seem to portray himself the type of good-natured paladin. Down to the etchings on his armor

What an earful. And knowing she'd just stood around listening to the commoner ramble -- ugh! The things nobility had to put up with for the betterment of their people. Honestly, said emperor was stuck trying to keep vile down as faux-Ragnarok went on about his life or something. He was new to this. And it was painfully obvious to see. "Yes, yes. That's fine and dandy," she uttered, clapping her hands as though it would hurry the beginner up on his speech. "Really, if you're so well-versed in people as you said, then surely you'd know how to speak with them, too. You are lucky t

Good. Another sparkling herb. Expedient searches meant she would get to other parts of her day sooner. It was only when she'd exhausted her immediate area of foreseeable resources that she straightened her back out. And the sound of footsteps on dirt could only mean one thing. Except, the emperor hadn't expected the goof to offer a proper introduction. A whirl around, and she stared back cautiously at the would-be stalker. "Ranganok," Nian iterated, a grating disbelief highlighting her seared tone. "What is that, a bastardization of Ragnarok? That world ending event from Norse m

Sorry. Was this man... stalking her? Everyone wanted attention of the one true ruler, it seems. But rightful ranking aside, even if the other player had been prudent about how best to proceed, clueless about the continuation of their quest, there would be no handouts for commoners under heaven's rule. A squint was all she was willing to give, the other man bowing to showcase his goodwill. Nian was out in returning the sentiment, at this hour. With a growl, she brushed past him all the same, hastened steps leading her to the outskirts of town. And had that serf the nerve to bound

No response? What an oaf. But it was better for bystanders to remain so rather than being struck up with conversation. If only the man would learn how to keep his eyes to himself... When Nian tossed a look his way, all she caught on his face was a grin. And that was enough for her own expression to sour, albeit slightly, the royal throwing her gaze towards the destination of the alchemist she was tasked to find. Zachariah was less likely to be out and about of his workshop, and thus with raced steps the emperor took off against the streets once again, taking only cursory glances of t

<<tfl>> How much time did one need to think about people they've seen around town before? Really. To Nian, this was no question, but rather an obstacle, by nature of the system. For some reason or another, quests loved to list and delist themselves in her completion log, and this was one of the afflicted names in her menus. And on such occasions, she'd confront the man at his source, his office... or cabin. Today was no different. Or it would've been... if he didn't up and walk out on a patrol route out of the randomness of Aincrad's heart. So she near barged pa

"What." She'd wanted to howl fie, for noticing one of the commoners brazenly strolling up to her side, grubby hands shifting with effort the dial under that sigil that she preferred. And, not to mention, that old-person stench wafting from that under-handed individual. There was something about thinking to be said -- not that the Emperor was intent on listening, too focused on how the dial was affixed to the wall the moment his fist slammed upon its front-end. "I'm gonna try this!" And then it popped back out. The king erased all traces of confusion on her face with a shak

And no sooner after she'd finally come to terms with the layout of the room did the walls start closing in upon them. Ridiculous! Nian had half the mind to test the strength of her gauntlets on either of them, had there not been another way out of the trap. She sneered at the looks of furniture, toppling over one another in the shift of spaces, hard places threatening to crush all that stood within it. The emperor dove through that hatch, claws without, the first of the lot to hit the floor in a tumble. And it was to her annoyance that the ceiling, while adequate to her height, was still

-- And had there been a crater that threatened to swallow the players, surely the king would lie unaware of the danger she had personally been placed in. Because a little fall was of no consequence to the royal, the ruler. Instead, it was the world to the onset of castle guards that had flooded the hallway she'd taken them into. And she'd have to thank her arbiter for that. "This looks straight-forward. The target will just slip out of this place ala James Bond villain while we?" Plini fell, like the target he'd surmised. And Nian almost halted herself, half working into a guffa

Gross. It was decent time that the stupid, ugly infidel got off of her before she even had a chance to swipe the devilskin and rip an orange cursor into her. The king snarled, whipping up from her furled lump on the floor, letting out another war cry before her choir was matched with the destruction of property. On terrible grounds such as these? They might as well. And then watching that damned shitty woman rush forward only to turn back and -- what? Let people in? As though the guards wouldn't be on her ass within seconds flat -- "Seriously, it's like nobody knows how the fuck to h

And they were getting close! Her new residence, right in the midst of what looked like the border along heaven and hell. Cut off from the rest of the world, it earned a right moniker, her definition of what she'd consider an ivory tower. If there were any signs of disgust on the emperor's face, her presence would've been long gone before a second look were up to confirm it. Because-- "Argh, blast it! This control is stuck, and the Airship is on a crash course!" --Honestly, she couldn't stand the helpless, sometimes. Perched on one of the sides of the Hand of Heaven, her eye

Physical. Force. Of course. Only the uneducated would resort to such things at a moment's notice. Forget that their emperor had literally understood the controls with a look, pulled up the navigation wheel and read the speed for an upcoming boost. Crashing into Plini was the least of her problems. Going at top speed might just be the least for her rowdy rabble, too. Claws out. The steel of her weapons carried her to lean on one foot from their positioning, and with a jab of the other she wasn't piling her weight against, the king dully flicked the shift stick, sending the airshi

"Move over, despicable." The blonde serf had somehow snuck her way into the control room whilst she was waiting on her right-hand man. All she seemed to take was a glance at the board; even then, the king was less than satisfied at the woman's lack of progress. Talk about incapable. Nian found position at the very front and center of the chamber, in direct view of the oncoming storm. Lame. "Milord, there must be a button here that might make this thing go faster." "Is that so?" She didn't need to take long to figure out which periphery it was, particularly the one that

Damn these serfs nowadays. That they couldn't recognize a leader when they saw one spoke leagues of their incredulity in higher power. Nian was right on her way out of the lower decks of the ship when one of the rabble made way en route towards her. And to say that the ruler wasn't impressed by her questioning was an understatement. "Obviously it's yours truly right here," the king stated, the front of her iron fist bumping into her own chest. Without any further questioning, said ruler swept past the blond while keeping a great berth to her movements; her claws were often an obstacle, an

With the rate they were progressing towards the skyport, there had been a question lingering in the player's mind. Namely; what was the point of requiring an airship for whatever they were going to do next? Hijacking a vehicle was one thing. It wouldn't be ruled as such under her law, for one, and for another, all creations were due to the one true king (Nian) over Aincrad. So what vessel they would take was hers, by way of her judgement. But her claws were keeping up their work, and they were reaching, reaching out towards the clouds by now. Plini said it would be faster with a ship of

The corners of her lips curled into a cruel smile. "Fitting last words." And all of her STR was mustered into the pult with a swing of her body. She launched the man into the air, in a direction upwards if not towards this 'skyport', whatever that was. One dip of her knees, too, and she brought herself skyward -- freefalling wasn't about to excuse her second-in-command from leaving her side, either. As king, she had responsibilities over her subjects. An arm wrapped around Plini's waist and she ushered them towards a roof-top, albeit one she'd abandoned earlier to get a closer l