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[CYOA] Chaos Quest II (Prologue)
Delzhand
Hard to miss.Registered User regular
Hard to miss.Registered User regular
Interactive Version
The First Vision
Saoirse crouched near the middle of the ancient subterranean plaza, near a crumbling stone wall. A skeleton hobbled past her clumsily, dim embers in its eyes.
She ignored it, and surveyed the area. The skeletons weren't a huge threat alone, for the most part they could just be knocked over, or if you wanted a laugh, you could grab their skulls and punt them into the pools of milky cave water nearby.
The statues were another story. The stone sentinels patrolled these ruins, even centuries after the fall of their kingdom. Had their creators intended them to wander the dark indefinitely, or was it just an oversight?
Saoirse shook her head. She could ponder the mysteries of the ancients once she'd retrieved the Kingsword from the shrine at the center of the plaza. She set her lantern down and held out her palm.
SAOIRSE: Limini, I need a distraction.
A pair of feline eyes opened in a nearby shadow.
LIMINI: Hmph. Making me do your dirty work?
SAOIRSE: I thought cats were naturally curious. Don't you want to see the Kingsword?
The eyes turned towards the shrine. There was a flicker in the shadow, the merest suggestion of a twitching tail.
LIMINI: ...a little bit.
The spectral cat took on a more substantial form and bounded off towards the patrolling automaton, which mindlessly gave chase. Saoirse grinned and tightened her cloak, then sprinted for the shrine.
The First Vision
Saoirse crouched near the middle of the ancient subterranean plaza, near a crumbling stone wall. A skeleton hobbled past her clumsily, dim embers in its eyes.
She ignored it, and surveyed the area. The skeletons weren't a huge threat alone, for the most part they could just be knocked over, or if you wanted a laugh, you could grab their skulls and punt them into the pools of milky cave water nearby.
The statues were another story. The stone sentinels patrolled these ruins, even centuries after the fall of their kingdom. Had their creators intended them to wander the dark indefinitely, or was it just an oversight?
Saoirse shook her head. She could ponder the mysteries of the ancients once she'd retrieved the Kingsword from the shrine at the center of the plaza. She set her lantern down and held out her palm.
SAOIRSE: Limini, I need a distraction.
A pair of feline eyes opened in a nearby shadow.
LIMINI: Hmph. Making me do your dirty work?
SAOIRSE: I thought cats were naturally curious. Don't you want to see the Kingsword?
The eyes turned towards the shrine. There was a flicker in the shadow, the merest suggestion of a twitching tail.
LIMINI: ...a little bit.
The spectral cat took on a more substantial form and bounded off towards the patrolling automaton, which mindlessly gave chase. Saoirse grinned and tightened her cloak, then sprinted for the shrine.
+2
Posts
The Second Vision
Saoirse stood at the top of the sand dune and looked east, over the rooftops of the fishing village. The ocean was choppy, and summer's heat had given way to more moderate weather. But the wind was high, which was exactly what she wanted. Today was the day.
She'd discovered the craft while mapping the woods further inland. It had been badly damaged, abandoned long ago. Long ago enough that the forest had almost claimed it entirely, much like its former rider's bones. But it called to her, begged to be restored.
Several other residents of the fishing village had come to the dune to watch. There was a general sense of optimism - Saoirse's previous attempts had met with halting, cautious success. But today was the real test.
She pulled her goggles down and knocked back the kickstand with her heel. She placed a gloved palm on the machine's nameplate. The whirring magical engine at the heart of the machine whispered to her.
???: Are you ready to fly, rider?
SAOIRSE: Are you, Branford?
BRANFORD: I was made to fly.
The engine flared, and the arc-halo lifted the craft off the ground. This was going to make charting the island much easier.
The Third Vision
Saoirse swatted a tree branch out of the way and gripped her reins tightly. She was on edge - the blood panther had been spotted in this forest only a few days ago. It had killed two cows and wounded a farmer in the nearby village. But she'd pursued it this far, and she wasn't about to let a tangle of scrub and fallen logs stop her now.
A hart, previously still with fear, darted away somewhere to her left. Her wyvern turned to follow it, and she gently tugged on the reins to bring its focus back to her hunt.
SAOIRSE: I know you're hungry, Ambrose. You can hunt once we're done.
She'd taken the job reluctantly. She didn't need the money at the moment, and blood panthers tended to hide during the day. But the village didn't have anyone capable of taking down a beast like this on their own. And left to their own devices, blood panthers would mate with regular panthers, always passing down their voracious appetite and wild strength to their offspring through some cruel trick of heredity.
Ambrose stopped and sniffed at the ground. His nostrils flared. Saoirse checked the straps on her scale mail and grabbed one of her spear from the saddle harness. Her prey was near. She clenched her teeth and dropped down from Ambrose's back. The growl from the overhang was unmistakable, and she dug in her heels as the panther dropped towards her.
Prologue
Saoirse rolled over in her bed, away from the morning sunlight. She had slept fitfully, and her dreams, though vivid in sleep, began to fade into the clarity of consciousness. She sat up after a moment, throwing off the heavy comforter.
One of these is not a dream, but a memory. Who is Saoirse?
I really don't have a preference!
What is Chaos Quest?
Chaos Quest is a Choose Your Own Adventure style story. Each scene will tell a bit of the story and then be followed by a vote. While voting is open, you can influence how the story will change.
What kind of story is it?
In case the title didn't give it away, it's a fantasy RPG. At the start of the story, things will be necessarily vague - I'm not starting with a lot of worldbuilding. But depending on how the votes go, the world could be fleshed out any number of ways. Maybe there are castles, crystals and airships, maybe there are guns, railroads and airships, maybe there are time-travel and floating continents and airships... you get the idea. If you've played Final Fantasy, Dragon Quest, Tales, you know what to expect. It's all on the table.
Does that mean random encounters?
I don't know about random, but it does have battles, yes! What would a JRPG be without battles? Of course, as an audience-driven story, it's not combat you can actually play, but each combat will have a vote beforehand where you can choose to boost the priority of one of the party members' abilities. Once the votes are tallied, the next scene will be presented as a 2d sprite based battle that plays out based on a real combat engine - like this!
How does combat work?
Units get turns based on their SPD. On their turn, they'll automatically choose an action and perform it. The effectiveness is determined by the unit and target's stats (ATK, DEF, RES, SPD). Some units have reaction abilities, like counter attacks. There are also positive and negative status effects that can affect a character.
How does voting affect combat? How do characters choose actions?
When a character's turn comes up, they'll randomly select an action from their pool, which is dependent on votes received. A character who gets no votes has an ability pool that looks like this: [attack:100%, ability1:0%, ability2:0%]
If a character gets votes to use an ability, it increases the percentage chance of that ability being chosen. Say a character has two abilities: Thrust and Flank. If she gets 3 votes for Thrust and 2 votes for Flank (you can't vote for basic attack), her ability pool looks like [attack:17%, thrust:50%, flank:33%]. Every turn, she'll choose an ability randomly based on those percentages.
What happens if the party is defeated?
There will be a vote to either re-attempt the combat following a new ability-boost vote, to lower the difficulty of the encounter, or to accept the consequences of failure and continue the story. The severity of the consequences depend on the margin of enemy victory. If the party gets absolutely stomped, a character could be grievously wounded or even killed, but if it was a near thing, it may just mean a permanent stat decrease, loss of an item, or simply a change to how the story progresses.
How often will it update?
Updates are planned to be approximately every 2-3 days, depending on the vote, or if I need to create new assets for the battle engine.
Something is wrong with the combat engine/website!
Shoot me a PM with your browser and OS, and a screenshot if you can. It's all HTML and CSS, but some browsers did have issues with earlier versions.
Summoning friends and allies!
@discrider
@zekebeau
@Tiphareth
@Polaritie
@cj iwakura
Saoirse's House | Bolba Village
Saoirse swung her legs over the edge of the bed and looked blearily around the small thatched roof hut that she called home. Her clothes, rumpled and untidy, lay in a pile. Her cartography instruments, meticulously organized, lay on her desk, along with rolls of paper, maps in various degrees of completion. A pair of crutches stood in the corner, crutches she no longer needed.
It had been two months since the near-disastrous test flight.
Saoirse stretched and sat down in a wicker chair by the kitchen window. The fishing village was already bustling with activity - men and women setting sail in one- and two-person crafts, mending and emptying nets, or chatting with one another about this or that topic.
She noticed a shadow fall across the gap between the canvas flap that served as a door and the floor.
???: Saoirse! You awake?
SAOIRSE: Just a minute, Parzeval!
She pulled a tunic and breeches off the floor and quickly pulled them on. Parzeval would no doubt be seeking company for some errand. As the village chief's son, he seemed to have endless responsibility, despite being no older than she was.
She pushed past the canvas flap and onto the sand strew planks of her porch. Parzeval awaited her, wearing his customary easy grin.
PARZEVAL: How's the leg?
SAOIRSE: I'm still being careful. Probably more careful than I need to be, honestly!
PARZEVAL: And Branford?
Saoirse stepped towards the coverend object on the porch and pulled the tarp off. She knocked twice on the aeroframe's headlamp.
BRANFORD: Good morning, rider.
Parzeval winced. Branford's left front wing had been torn off completely in the accident.
SAOIRSE: We won't be soaring until I can figure out how to fashion new wing, but we can still skim along the surface.
PARZEVAL: Good, then you can come down to the beach and help me clear a nest of ocean jellies. Father said the fishermen discovered it under the pier.
Saoirse groaned. Ocean jellies weren't dangerous, but they'd cling to the pier supports and calcify, emitting a horrendous odor all the while.
PARZEVAL: Please? He let me borrow the Stormstaff.
SAOIRSE: I can see that.
He wore the staff across his back, its lapis blue gem gleaming in the sun. It was a symbol of the village chief's authority and contained some small amount of magic.
SAOIRSE: Fine, fine. Let me just grab a shovel. I'll meet you by the pier.
Parzeval's grin broadened.
PARZEVAL: Excellent. I owe you one!
Pier | Bolba Village
It took the better part of an hour, but eventually the jellies had all been dislodged. Saoirse had used the flat of the shovel like a catapult, hurling them into deeper waters, while Parzeval had pounded them with magic from his father's staff. Presently they sat on the pier, Saoirse reclining in Branford's seat, Parzeval dangling his legs off the pier.
PARZEVAL: So let me get this straight. You crashed because you tried to fly over water?
BRANFORD: Correct.
PARZEVAL: And you fly using magic...
BRANFORD: The arc-halo is not magic. It is an elemental construct. I bond with the earth at two points, ahead and behind. The circle on the ground is simply a visual artifact of the energies expended.
PARZEVAL: That sounds like magic to me.
BRANFORD: You ambulate by shifting your weight over your legs, is that "magic"?
Parzeval pondered this.
PARZEVAL: Nope, still don't get it.
A lonely gull squawked overhead. Saoirse watched it drift further down the beach, riding the wind, barely needing to move its wings.
SAOIRSE: ...Branford, are there others like you?
For a moment, there was silence, except for the waves.
BRANFORD: Rider, I do not wish to discuss this topic. May we discuss another?
Branford doesn't want to talk about his origins. What does Saoirse ask instead?
Let's look at important things, like how to make a wing to repair our buddy.
The status page will always display the party's current status, but I'll be adding a way to link to snapshots soon.
Pier | Bolba Village
SAOIRSE: What's it going to take to get you into the air again, I wonder?
BRANFORD: I suppose one of your engineers could craft a replacement wing.
PARZEVAL: "Engineer"?
BRANFORD: The men and women who fashion your boats out of wood. Is that not the right word? What do you call them?
PARZEVAL: Anyone can make a boat with practice. We don't have a special name for them.
SAOIRSE: I suppose I could take the measurements of your right wing and draw something up. It's kind of like making a map...
BRANFORD: That is logical, yes. Though I suspect the mismatched weight might be an issue.
SAOIRSE: You're an amazing machine, Branford. I'd love to meet the person who created you originally.
The seconds stretched out in silence. Parzeval stood up and put his hands on his hips, staring out past the gentle waves.
PARZEVAL: I suppose I've rested long enough. Father will expect me back before too long.
Saoirse started Branford's engine and he rose gently to idle a foot or so above the pier.
SAOIRSE: I think I'll ask Garven to help with the wing.
PARZEVAL: You might be waiting a while. He's deep-fishing with Yuda today. Why don't you ask your grimma?
Saoirse sighed.
PARZEVAL: You can't avoid her forever.
SAOIRSE: I can try.
She revved Branford's engine and shot down the pier, then took a hard turn, kicking up sand. Parzeval watched her fly down the beach, shaking his head.
Hoay Cliffs | Northern Bolba
BRANFORD: What is a "grimma"?
Saoirse was crouched by a fallen tree, holding a knotted string against it.
SAOIRSE: It means your father's mother or your mother's mother.
BRANFORD: I see. A "grandmother".
SAOIRSE: It sounds weird when you say it like that. Gur-and muth-err.
BRANFORD: And you dislike your "grimma"?
Saoirse frowned and stood up. She'd ridden Branford north to where the cliffs pushed up sharply, enclosing the tiny village of Bolba against the forest to the east. A recent storm had pushed over some of the trees here, and while the ones large enough to be carved into canoes had all been dragged back to the village, she hoped to find a leftover piece suitable for whittling down into a wing.
SAOIRSE: I don't dislike her.
BRANFORD: But you are avoiding her?
SAOIRSE: I do not wish to discuss this topic.
BRANFORD: I understand.
Saoirse bit her lip and walked past Branford to another log. She brushed off the sandy soil and held the measuring string against it.
SAOIRSE: I think this one will work. What do you think? It won't be as shiny as your original wing, but we can paint it! Maybe blue?
BRANFORD: Can you describe blue to me?
SAOIRSE: Describe... blue?
BRANFORD: Rider... I do not have eyes. I do not see as you do.
Saoirse sat down on the log and stared at Branford. This machine, this evidence of a world beyond the island... She had so many questions, and yet every time she pressed...
SAOIRSE: Well, if I was going to describe a color, blue is probably the easiest. It's the color of a clear sky, the color of the ocean when the sun is high... the color of your stripe, if we can get the hue right.
BRANFORD: If you find the color pleasing and it allows me to fly again, that will be enough for me.
Saoirse nodded.
SAOIRSE: Then that's what we'll do. We'll bring Garven out here this evening and he can help me get this log back to the village.
SAOIRSE: In the meantime... let's see. We could try to get rid of the mossfox that's been attacking the chickens. Or we could try to map some more of the forest.
BRANFORD: I could instruct you in some ground maneuvers, if you desire.
How will Saoirse spend the rest of the day?
It seems impersonal though, and I'm not sure I like this method of interacting with the story)
Fight the Fox: 57%
Map the forest: 14%
Rider training: 29%
Interactive Version
Joban's Farm | Bolba Village
Saoirse eased up on the throttle as she approached the farmhouse, and the arc-halo shrank below Branford's floating chassis. Joban was tending to the raised beds, rows of neat wooden boxes filled with sprouting vegetables. He pulled a wagon behind him, heaped high with the dark, rich loam Joban mixed every spring. He stopped at one of the beds and scattered a few handfuls of the stuff.
SAOIRSE: Joban!
Joban was a man of middle age, broad shouldered and tan. He stood and dusted off his hands.
JOBAN: Afternoon, Saorise. Heard you and Parzeval knocked those slimes on the pier into next week!
SAOIRSE: Sure did! I thought we'd swing by and see if we can help with your pest problem, too.
Joban looked past her.
JOBAN: Did you leave Parzeval in the dust?
SAOIRSE: Huh?
JOBAN: I thought you said "we"?
SAOIRSE: No, me and Branford.
Joban frowned, and Saoirse was reminded that not everyone viewed Branford the same way she did. There was a merchant who visited the island on a modestly sized ship about once a year to trade for the various crafts the village produced. He had a machine similar to Branford, though it didn't speak - or perhaps it only spoke to the trader, in that strange, fluttering native tongue of his. The villagers regarded even that with suspicion.
When she'd first discovered Branford in the forest, Joban had helper Saoirse get them back to the village, suggesting that he could be fitted with a plow and used to till the earth. Saoirse had argued against it, and, well... the tension had never really been resolved.
Still, though, Joban was a friendly sort, and not a holder of grudges, even if he didn't quite accept the Branford as a real member of the village.
SAOIRSE: So... what's the story with the mossfox? Have you seen it recently?
Joban leaned on the raised bed and scratched his nose.
JOBAN: Yeah, it was here... three nights afore. I set up a whole mess of strings and bell-shells around henhouse, and sure enough it got to janglin'. I ran outside and chased it off before it could snatch up another chicken. It ran off to the southeast. If you're gonna chase it down, the first place I'd look is Shalebed.
Shalebed was a series of flat stones that jutted out of the beach along the island's southern edge. As low tide, a small grotto could be accessed, perhaps a decent hideout for a fox to grow fat on pilfered poultry.
SAOIRSE: I'll head that way then. Let's see if I can frighten that thing off for good.
JOBAN: Well, don't be afraid to smack it with that shovel if you have to. It's still a wild animal, and it's got teeth as pointing as anything.
Saoirse nodded, and swung Branford around in a tight circle.
SAOIRSE: Just you wait! We'll take care of it!
For the second time that day, she sped away from someone who was left quietly shaking their head.
Victory! Saoirse gained 18XP! Saoirse leveled up, increasing her VIT by 1!
Shalebed | Southern Bolba
BRANFORD: Rider, should we not have consulted the tide-charts before coming down here?
Saoirse clenched her teeth and she pressed a scrap of cloth to her arm. Despite Joban's warnings, she hadn't been prepared for the fox to actually jump up on Branford and begin biting her. She had flung the creature away long enough to safely lower Branford onto the wet rock of the grotto's floor, and then taken a few swings with her trusty shovel. She had missed it each time, craftly little bugger, but when she struck the stone hard enough to make the metal spade head send off a few tiny sparks, the creature decided it had had enough, and darted away down one of the cave's passages. She had let it go.
Her hand wasn't bleeding badly, but she could probably expect some redness and swelling. She emptied a canteen of fresh water over the wound and pulled the cloth bandage tight using her teeth. She flexed her fingers experimentally. Her leg had only just healed, she did not like the prospect of being laid up unable to ride Branford should there be any sign of infection.
BRANFORD: Rider?
SAOIRSE: We'll be fine. High tide shouldn't be for another few hours.
BRANFORD: Perhaps, but we are not at the high tide waterline, we are far below it. And I'm detecting an increase in elemental water energy.
Saoirse's eyes went wide. How could she be so foolish?
SAOIRSE: Damn it!
She jumped on Branford's seat and started his engine, but foamy water was already beginning to slosh into the cave entrance.
BRANFORD: I may not be able to generate enough lift to carry us over the water at anything less than full throttle, rider.
SAOIRSE: What if we crash again? I dropped you on land last time, but you told me that if your core is flooded with water...
BRANFORD: I will become inert, yes. But we have little choice. If this cavern floods, the same fate awaits for certain.
Saoirse looked over her shoulder at the cave. The fox had gone down a passage that was large enough for Branford, barely. There was another passage that seemed to lead upwards. She'd never mapped this cave, but it stood to reason that there might be an exit that way.
There was no time to wait. She gripped Branford's handles...
How will Saoirse and Branford deal with the rising tide?
If all else fails we can take the core and leave Bradford's shell
And the Fox is unlikely to run somewhere flooded
Let's fly: 0%
Follow the fox: 60%
Head upwards: 40%
Interactive Version
Shalebed | Southern Bolba
Saoirse flipped the tiny metal switch that activated Branford's headlamp and pointed him down the descending passageway.
SAOIRSE: If that fox has been living in here, I bet it knows another way out.
She rode Branford forward. The opening was barely wide enough to accommodate his lone right wing. He was definitely not designed for such small spaces. However, past the initial squeeze, the cavern widened somewhat. The headlamp illuminated a long, fairly straight shaft that descended slightly, with a few stalactites as the only notable features.
Branford's lamp was the lone source of light after a minute of slow riding. The luminous yellow cone revealed no further landmarks, and Saoirse released the throttle. Branford decelerated to a stop.
SAOIRSE: This seems like a safe place to wait out the tide. It doesn't look like anything else is living in here.
BRANFORD: I detect no dangers, as well.
Saoirse kicked down the stand and hopped off Branford. The arc-engine's humming ceased.
Saoirse rummaged through the machine's panniers for a moment, muttering to herself.
SAOIRSE: I can't see a damn thing.
She pulled the saddlebags free and dragged them in front of Branford's lamp.
SAOIRSE: I've got flint and tinder, but I doubt we'll find enough kindling for a fire. I've got a lantern with a tiny bit of oil. I'm going to look around. Get a sense of what's in here. I can't believe I never thought to map this place.
BRANFORD: Rider, do be careful. If anything should happen to you...
Saoirse nodded, despite knowing that her companion couldn't see the gesture.
SAOIRSE: I'll be careful.
The lantern's dim light reached far shorter than Branford's arc-lamp, but what it lacked in brightness, it made up for in range. While Branford's lamp illuminated a lengthy cone in front of him, it did little for anything behind or beside the rider. Saoirse raised the lamp, illuminating a circle around her, broken only by her own shadow.
She could see Branford's light some distance away, and made a note not to stray so far that she ever lost sight of it. Underground, it was her only compass.
She walked perpendicular to the path she'd taken into the cave, counting her steps. What she'd assumed was a narrow tunnel was actually a fairly wide open cavern, the few stalactites they'd passed on the way in were in fact a small number of many. Eventually she reached a wall. It was slick with cave-water, layered green and orange and white stone. She turned to confirm that she could still see Branford in the distance, then began counting steps along the wall.
It eventually curved away, and something blocked her line of sight to the aeroframe. She walked back until she could see it again, and held her lamp out, but couldn't see what it was that had blocked her view only a few steps back.
SAOIRSE: Branford?
There was no response. She could see the bright yellow path of his light, but heard nothing. It occurred to her that she'd never communicated with him from anything more than a few feet away. Perhaps his hearing was more limited than hers, or perhaps he was simply unable to raise his voice? She began walking back towards him.
She kept her lantern trained on the hard edge where Branford was blocked from view, and about halfway back to the spot where he was, Saoirse gasped as the obstruction caught the lantern light.
What is the object in the cavern?
Additionally, Saoirse has gained a new combat ability: [Arc-Flash]! Arc-Flash stuns all enemies, delaying their next turns.
Figure in crystal: 3 (20%)
Metal door: 4 (27%)
Mausoleum: 8 (53%)
I think Halloween is in the air.
Interactive Version
Saoirse stared at the structure. In the color-devouring blackness of the cave, it appeared to be a burial chamber of some sort. It seemed desperately out of place - all polished marble with a wrought iron gate, untouched by moss, rust, or even time.
Most strangely of all, though, was the angle. It was tilted ever so slightly, as if it had sunken into the ground on one side.
She lifted her lantern above her head. The top of the mausoleum was hidden, engulfed by the cave ceiling - no, not engulfed, it looked as if it had displaced the very stone.
SAOIRSE: Branford?
BRANFORD: I am here, rider.
Branford's voice was quiet at this distance. She set the lantern down near the iron gate and walked back to the aeroframe.
SAOIRSE: I found something strange. Come on. I need your light.
She hopped onto the seat and let the engine's idle float them gently towards the mausoleum.
SAOIRSE: What do you think?
BRANFORD: Whatever it is, it seems incongruous with the environs.
SAOIRSE: What does it look like to you?
BRANFORD: I can perceive only the outside. That's strange. Usually I can identify internal structures, though not with high accuracy. Here, though... nothing.
SAOIRSE: There's nothing like this anywhere else on any part of the island that I've found. These carvings don't look like our language.
She traced her hands over the carvings.
SAOIRSE: Though skulls are a pretty universal symbol, I suppose...
Her gaze drifted to the gate.
SAOIRSE: I want to see what's inside. Parzeval's gonna love this.
She grabbed the handles of the gate and pulled. It was heavy and cold to the touch, and the blood soaked bandage on her right hand prickled as she strained.
Suddenly, the resistance fell away and the gates swung open easily on silent hinges.
BRANFORD: Rider, watch out! I'm detecting-
A skeletal figured burst from the open crypt and barreled into Saoirse.
SKELETON: CAN MY MISTRESS FIND NO RESPITE?
The skeleton was taller than any man Saoirse had ever met, and carried itself with a prouder bearing than one expected of animated bones. It brandished a long, needle-like blade.
SKELETON: OPENED BY BLOOD WAS THE GATE, ONLY BY SELFSAME BLOOD MAY IT BE RE-SEALED.
It thrust its sword at Saoirse, who threw herself backwards towards Branford and grabbed for her shovel. She tightened her grip and readied herself as the skeleton lunged.
There's no escape and only one chance to gain an advantage. What will Saorise do?
2. Go for the head.
Surely, a shovel would be a blunt instrument, and skeletons take extra damage from bludgeoning damage.
What's he going to do, gnaw our kneecaps off
Saoirse gains the reaction skill [Skull Smasher]! Skull Smasher counters the target, reducing their DEF by 2 for the next turn.
Interactive Version
Victory! Saoirse gains 30 XP and levels up, gaining +1 RES! Saoirse acquires [Regal Rapier] (+3 ATK)
Interactive Version
Interactive Version
While Saoirse recovers, another player takes the stage. Who is it?
Interactive Version
What secret technique does Master Ilyon offer Hanya?
Whereas Lion's Dance feels like it has the potential to be an Ace in the Hole in a lot of situations!
Blazing Fist
It's hard to say, I haven't done hardcore theory crafting on it, necessarily.