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ID: Nvh1BTbG/qst/6261156#6267046
6/29/2025, 12:11:45 AM
>>6266046
May had a good point. First impressions were everything. The people of Morfis were about to meet their King for the first time. It was important that you make a grand entrance and show them what you were made of. You momentarily force the party to cease their advance, and to direct their attention towards the creation of a makeshift banner. You didn’t know much about arts and crafts, but fortunately, Cassius offered to put something together for you from one of the hides of a tent you would no longer need. You’d asked the summoner to paint a picture of a Hellwing, a vicious bat native to Fodlan, which was the symbol of your late father. What he gave you was less than satisfactory. You suppose you should not have expected much given what you’d previously seen of his makeshift drawings, but beggars could not be choosers.
Holding the banner in your hand, you mount Fionn and lead your party towards the gates of Morfis. The spires ahead of you look even grander up close, and you find it incomprehensible how such wonders were created in the first place. From an architectural standpoint, Morfis was leaps and bounds ahead of Fodlan. As you gaze up at a tower that pierces above the clouds, you wonder what else this nation will have in store for you.
As you reach the edge of the city, Fionn takes a sharp dive down, landing in front of the city gate with grace and pose. He spreads his wings wide, and cranes his neck back, taking up as much space as he can to let out a proud roar. You stand atop his back, waving your banner left and right, giving off a bellow of your own.
>“Hear me, Morfis! Tristain d’Rusalka has finally arrived to battle for the honor of Princess Yulia xan Phanes! Stand in my way at your own peril, for nothing shall stop my advance!”
clap clap clap clap
“Very nice landing.”
“The speech was a little generic though…”
“Hey, is that a white wyvern? Cool!”
“He’s lucky he’s got that much at least. Otherwise I’d rank him towards the bottom half…”
A group of mages serve as the guardians of the gates of Morfis. They stand around, politely clapping in your direction and discussing the merits of your entrance. While they seem well-meaning, you couldn’t help but feel as though they were just being nice for the sake of it.
>“What are you doing?”
“Hmm? Oh, sorry.” One mage offers an apology. He scratches the back of his head, as if embarrassed that they were caught. “We’re so used to seeing these sorts of entrances from you competitors, that we’ve taken to ranking the best ones amongst ourselves.”
“For what it’s worth, yours was MUCH more interesting than the last kid we just saw. He was a real little creep.”
>“Other entrances?” You seethe, rethinking the merits of this idea. “Just how many competitors have you seen thus far?”
May had a good point. First impressions were everything. The people of Morfis were about to meet their King for the first time. It was important that you make a grand entrance and show them what you were made of. You momentarily force the party to cease their advance, and to direct their attention towards the creation of a makeshift banner. You didn’t know much about arts and crafts, but fortunately, Cassius offered to put something together for you from one of the hides of a tent you would no longer need. You’d asked the summoner to paint a picture of a Hellwing, a vicious bat native to Fodlan, which was the symbol of your late father. What he gave you was less than satisfactory. You suppose you should not have expected much given what you’d previously seen of his makeshift drawings, but beggars could not be choosers.
Holding the banner in your hand, you mount Fionn and lead your party towards the gates of Morfis. The spires ahead of you look even grander up close, and you find it incomprehensible how such wonders were created in the first place. From an architectural standpoint, Morfis was leaps and bounds ahead of Fodlan. As you gaze up at a tower that pierces above the clouds, you wonder what else this nation will have in store for you.
As you reach the edge of the city, Fionn takes a sharp dive down, landing in front of the city gate with grace and pose. He spreads his wings wide, and cranes his neck back, taking up as much space as he can to let out a proud roar. You stand atop his back, waving your banner left and right, giving off a bellow of your own.
>“Hear me, Morfis! Tristain d’Rusalka has finally arrived to battle for the honor of Princess Yulia xan Phanes! Stand in my way at your own peril, for nothing shall stop my advance!”
clap clap clap clap
“Very nice landing.”
“The speech was a little generic though…”
“Hey, is that a white wyvern? Cool!”
“He’s lucky he’s got that much at least. Otherwise I’d rank him towards the bottom half…”
A group of mages serve as the guardians of the gates of Morfis. They stand around, politely clapping in your direction and discussing the merits of your entrance. While they seem well-meaning, you couldn’t help but feel as though they were just being nice for the sake of it.
>“What are you doing?”
“Hmm? Oh, sorry.” One mage offers an apology. He scratches the back of his head, as if embarrassed that they were caught. “We’re so used to seeing these sorts of entrances from you competitors, that we’ve taken to ranking the best ones amongst ourselves.”
“For what it’s worth, yours was MUCH more interesting than the last kid we just saw. He was a real little creep.”
>“Other entrances?” You seethe, rethinking the merits of this idea. “Just how many competitors have you seen thus far?”
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