Per King Pardis III's orders, the Edoras army is fighting the Westerlings, otherwise known as the Western Tribes of Orsterra. Edoras has long since been at conflict with them, and it has only grown worse in the current king's time.
At first, you were eager to fight—to strike at this threat in defence of your nation, before they could grow too powerful. You thought you were fighting barbarians, uncivilized people who would devour Orsterra if they could. War, in that case, would be a noble cause.
And yet, the fighting is long and difficult. Even though the Edoras army is mighty, the Westerlings attack just as hard. On some days, despite the different uniforms, it becomes difficult to tell the corpses on the battlefield apart. The faces of your allies become almost indistinguishable from those of your enemies.
Eventually, you realize a hard truth—are you not all human? You're not fighting the monsters you thought you were. You are only killing people doing best for their own land, as you are. You can't even recall who actually fanned the flames of war.
Your blade grows heavy in your hands. You wonder if you can even bring yourself to swing it anymore, but you know you must. Hesitation on the battlefield will get you killed. Still, doubt weakens your body, guilt chaining down your arms. An enemy strikes at you, and you are too slow to react—
But Thronรฉ—your swift, faithful comrade, and above all your friend—isn't. She darts before you just in time, though not with enough to parry the blow. The blade goes through her gut, before she uses the last vestiges of her strength to slit the foe's throat.
"Are you okay?" she asks you, as though she is not the one bleeding out in your arms. You are unharmed, at least, but how could you ever answer that you're all right? You do not tell the truth, but you cannot lie either, as the light leaves her eyes.
After that battle, you desert the army.
Arthur wakes up, in the village inn.
He has spent many weeks here, by now. A part of him is wary to call any place home, lest he have to flee, but perhaps this village is the closest thing yet since his defection. The people here are largely kind and have welcomed him (sans Elizabeth, who has given him a wide berth, and yet seems to spy on him occasionally), and Opal has been a steadying presence—she, too, has stayed, if akin to a mildly feral cat sometimes ready to bite.
He leaves the inn and out into the morning sun. What does he want to do? He has a few options.
> Look for someone > Go fishing > Clear out any monsters lurking near the village > Eat at the tavern > Any other random action you can think of]
[Opal is out by the river, fishing. Though it's still morning, it looks like she's already got a lucky or catch two.
In contrast to the day they first met, she looks relatively at peace now. Just her, the river, and her fishing rod. And now, Arthur. She glances over at him.]
[With Opal and Arthur's efforts combined, they managed to yank the fish out of the water! It's a big one. Excitedly, Opal grabs it, before doing... proper fishing procedure stuff to put it in the bucket. Idk. Why do I keep making people do things I have zero expertise on.
[In any case, she goes back to her fishing, so Arthur should probably leave her be after a bit.
The other villagers are also going about their day, though Arthur might note that he doesn't see Elizabeth anywhere, not even spying on him from a distance. Anyway, what does he want to do with his day now?
> Clear out any monsters lurking near the village > Eat at the tavern > Any other random action you can think of]
[Monster time!! Arthur heads outside the village and has a decent time with the monsters, which sounds bad when I write it like that but I mean the monsters aren't too difficult to take down day. They're not the easiest, but nothing that he'd find himself getting seriously injured against, besides a cut or two.
However, hours later as he finishes off the last of them for the day, he'll hear what sounds like a commotion back in the village.]
[Well. When he gets back to the village, he will see an unpleasant sight.
Anise has been shoved to the ground, with Lovelace hovering over her, glaring at someone else. Kazuki looks worried, if terrified, as Temenos stands protectively in front of him, likewise staring at another party. Not far from them is Elizabeth, but unlike the others, she seems calm, almost like she knows what's going on.
It is also very obvious who everyone is looking at—a soldier, whom Arthur can tell immediately by the uniform is from Edoras. Also, very pointedly, he has Opal in his grip, with a sword held to her neck. Flanking him are three other Edoras soldiers, weapons out as though daring anyone to get closer.]
Where is he? We know you're harboring a deserter here!
[well. considering everything that's happening here and everything that could happen in the next few moments, he's hurrying even further in this direction.]
[That catches everyone's attention, though Opal is still very much being held captive. One of the Edoras soldiers speaks, pointing his sword in Arthur's direction.]
ARTHUR
But even in his dream, he is dreaming.
At first, you were eager to fight—to strike at this threat in defence of your nation, before they could grow too powerful. You thought you were fighting barbarians, uncivilized people who would devour Orsterra if they could. War, in that case, would be a noble cause.
And yet, the fighting is long and difficult. Even though the Edoras army is mighty, the Westerlings attack just as hard. On some days, despite the different uniforms, it becomes difficult to tell the corpses on the battlefield apart. The faces of your allies become almost indistinguishable from those of your enemies.
Eventually, you realize a hard truth—are you not all human? You're not fighting the monsters you thought you were. You are only killing people doing best for their own land, as you are. You can't even recall who actually fanned the flames of war.
Your blade grows heavy in your hands. You wonder if you can even bring yourself to swing it anymore, but you know you must. Hesitation on the battlefield will get you killed. Still, doubt weakens your body, guilt chaining down your arms. An enemy strikes at you, and you are too slow to react—
But Thronรฉ—your swift, faithful comrade, and above all your friend—isn't. She darts before you just in time, though not with enough to parry the blow. The blade goes through her gut, before she uses the last vestiges of her strength to slit the foe's throat.
"Are you okay?" she asks you, as though she is not the one bleeding out in your arms. You are unharmed, at least, but how could you ever answer that you're all right? You do not tell the truth, but you cannot lie either, as the light leaves her eyes.
After that battle, you desert the army.
Arthur wakes up, in the village inn.
He has spent many weeks here, by now. A part of him is wary to call any place home, lest he have to flee, but perhaps this village is the closest thing yet since his defection. The people here are largely kind and have welcomed him (sans Elizabeth, who has given him a wide berth, and yet seems to spy on him occasionally), and Opal has been a steadying presence—she, too, has stayed, if akin to a mildly feral cat sometimes ready to bite.
He leaves the inn and out into the morning sun. What does he want to do? He has a few options.
> Look for someone
> Go fishing
> Clear out any monsters lurking near the village
> Eat at the tavern
> Any other random action you can think of]
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In contrast to the day they first met, she looks relatively at peace now. Just her, the river, and her fishing rod. And now, Arthur. She glances over at him.]
Hey.
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[taking a seat next to her]
Injuries feeling better?
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Yeah, I can't complain. Think I'll still have to leave any monster fighting to you for now, though—but don't rest on your laurels for long.
[She will help you with any monster fighting when she can, Arthur...]
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Worried I'm getting complacent? I was thinking about going soon.
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Yeah? Don't go and get yourself killed. Though it'd be funny if I had to be the one dragging you to the apothecary this time.
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[giving her a brief, tired smile.]
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You never know. You might've had too much to drink at the tavern last night.
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[he is not]
What about you? What will you do?
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Hm... might keep fishing for a bit. Helps keep myself fed, and I can sell the rest to the tavern for their meals.
[Speaking of which, her line bobs.]
Ah—shut up for a second, I've got something!
[She pulls, though it seems like it's a big catch and she might need some help.]
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[helping her!!]
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Anyway, she gives Arthur a bit of a smile.]
Thanks.
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[joking]
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You'll be lucky if I think about it.
[In any case, she goes back to her fishing, so Arthur should probably leave her be after a bit.
The other villagers are also going about their day, though Arthur might note that he doesn't see Elizabeth anywhere, not even spying on him from a distance. Anyway, what does he want to do with his day now?
> Clear out any monsters lurking near the village
> Eat at the tavern
> Any other random action you can think of]
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However, hours later as he finishes off the last of them for the day, he'll hear what sounds like a commotion back in the village.]
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Anise has been shoved to the ground, with Lovelace hovering over her, glaring at someone else. Kazuki looks worried, if terrified, as Temenos stands protectively in front of him, likewise staring at another party. Not far from them is Elizabeth, but unlike the others, she seems calm, almost like she knows what's going on.
It is also very obvious who everyone is looking at—a soldier, whom Arthur can tell immediately by the uniform is from Edoras. Also, very pointedly, he has Opal in his grip, with a sword held to her neck. Flanking him are three other Edoras soldiers, weapons out as though daring anyone to get closer.]
Where is he? We know you're harboring a deserter here!
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—Stop!
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There you are, traitor.
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Yes. So let her go.
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[One Edoras soldier asks, while another takes a proper look at Opal.]
Hey... doesn't this woman meet the description? Of a recent defector from Riven's army? They're looking for one.
[At that, Opal begins to struggle, the blade digging a little into her neck.]
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The soldier holding onto Opal still has his blade to her neck, though he's looking around wildly as though trying to locate Arthur.]
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