The Sword of Jolnir [Titho, Isolde]

[pepsi]

-- CHAPTER 2 // THE SWORD OF JOLNIR

The sunset reflected off the waves as they gently brushed the shore, moving the tiny smooth pebbles back and forth. It was a sound he knew all too well, although he was more used to the rythmic noise of waves crashing one into the other.

The sun illuminated the beach from the side, casting long shadows on the coast from the white branches and the occasional boat wreck.
One particularly odd shadow was cast by something sticking out of the ground; it wasn't a branch, nor did it belong to a larger object. A tiny snail shell and a dried starfish dangled from the exposed end, swinging in the light breeze. It was a flute, strangely decorated and oddly misplaced in the middle of a beach, where the water could only barely reach it.
And from inside the flute, every crashing wave was amplified, resonating against the hollow tube; it turned to music, and soothed his soul.

-- NAME // Titho Kjartan Morana

-- CLASS // E

-- TECHS USED // None.

[Vio]

^{Isolde #1}

---

When she had decided to depart from her homeland, Lahar Isolde had no idea what to expect from the seas below. To be completely honest with herself, she had initially regretted her decision, though not for reasons of homesickness or loneliness. No. Rather, using part of the sail of a ship as a parachute to leap off an island suspended several thousands of feet over a volcanic island chain was — in hindsight — a terrible idea. What kind of crazy did one have to be to attempt such a deed?

Luckily for the Sky Islander, her deathly dive had gone surprisingly smoothly. In the days, weeks following the event, she had seen just a small portion of the Blue Seas, but had finally managed to stumble upon a landmass amongst relatively calm waters. By her lonesome now once more, she’d managed to sail her way in a small boat to shore, though still she was a little confused as to the whims and ways of the oceans blue. The air was thick, yet cool, and somehow the sun’s warmth seemed more prevalent despite these lands being much farther from it.

Perhaps strangest of all was the land — the Vearth upon which she now walked as she explored. Fine and grainy and intermingled with small stones smoothed out by the flow of the rich blue waters, it was reminiscent of the fine ashes spewed up from below, yet of significantly different hues. Golden brown powder into which her white boots sank somewhat, like the ashes, leaving broken prints of sole and heel.

“Mm! The air is very fresh here,” Isolde uttered to herself, inhaling the pure and saline air that blew in from the sapphire and amber horizon. A wind chill enough, at least to her, to make her shiver a tad as she continued her casual exploration of the coastline. Not a single soul had yet been spied, yet she was not too keen on immediately venturing beyond the dunes and into the thick forest beyond. A wall of trees that obscured whatever lay beyond in deep emerald shades, hardly even dappled by the sun’s position, was likely home to many a creature of the wilds.

---

SPOILER: Click to show

{Post Synposis:}
_{Isolde strolls across the beach, taking in the still very unfamiliar sights.}

---

Lahar Isolde | #cf71af

[pepsi]

-- CHAPTER 2 // THE SWORD OF JOLNIR

Titho lifted one of the flute's covers, and took a peek outside. Nobody here, he thought as he crawled out of the instrument, taking care to close the lid behind him. He didn't notice the other one walking on the beach, or perhaps he didn't mind.
And just like that, a knight in full armor, black like the night that was to come, seemed to materialise on the beach out of thin air.
With the flute firmly in his hands, he intoned the one song he knew best.

SPOILER: Click to show

{🎶🎵}

The sea always inspired him. It sang to him, through the varied and colourful expressions of the waves and the wind. In a sense, he was glad to have been born mute rather than deaf; there was nothing he held dearest than the ability to express himself through music. This is what I am, he thought.
And music would have been too different if he couldn't hear it. It would have been the same physical feeling, the vibration pervading his bones and the outer shell he had as skin - but the sound? The one he heard, with his ears? An added layer he couldn't forego. This is what I am, he thought.
Could he have been a painter, instead? No, none of that. He thought he was too clumsy with brushes, despite being as delicate as can be with his instruments; he just couldn't care, and clumsiness was his justification anyways.
Bent over his flute, almost crouching, sitting on a pile of rocks right on the crest nearest to the waterline. The sea inspired him to be strong, and to be greater; the sea which was invincible and infinitely extended. And while he didn't have the ardor to compare himself to it, it was good exercise for the mind to think oneself one with such a force of nature.
This is what I am, he thought.

"We're close, captain Gallahant". The ship flew a black flag, a shield and a pair of lances crossing a skull drawn on it.
"Finally, I'll get that damn sword." The neigh of the horse - better, the giant sea horse - dragging the ship covered his voice partly as he clutched his jousting lance. "And then, we shall be unstoppable."

-- NAME // Titho Kjartan Morana

-- CLASS // E

-- TECHS USED // None.

[Vio]

^{Isolde #2}

---

Stunning blue eyes peered through the tall marram of the foredunes, beyond the sands into the dark and foreboding depths of the treeline. No signs of life — not mobile life at least. Perhaps it was safe to venture in, but with night fast drawing in and temperatures descending, Isolde decided against further exploration. Warmth and rest were of higher priority. Some might have attested it to fate, perhaps the work of divine beings penning down destiny, but it was almost poetic in what her decision allowed her to see — and even to hear.

Carried upon the sea breeze, a melody; upon the rays of the late evening sun, a vast shadow. Perhaps thirty yards from where she stood, perching upon a beached boulder, was a figure of tall standing. Clad in a black guard, their pitch form was like a silhouette against the fiery red sunset, features indiscernible against waning incandescence. Intimidating it might have been to many, seeing such a sight, but the ferocity of this vision was lessened — calmed by the chosen accompaniment.

Flawless was the flautist.

Indeed, Miss Lahar was speechless. Even her mind was quieted by the immense instrumentalist’s work, thoughts stowed and replaced with a mix of brief emotions, dancing much as the musician’s fingers did upon the tool with which they made such song. Peace, melancholy, fear, courage; a bizarre selection, but those with which Isolde was strangely familiar in some regard. Though it was not a physical thing, she was nonetheless entranced by its beauty, daring to move again only once the final note had dissipated.

“Whew~! That was beautiful — really amazing,” Isolde whistled, hands rapidly applauding as she approached. Each step put further into perspective the sheer difference in height between the two of them. Even seated upon his rock, it was clear that the armoured behemoth dwarfed her rather average five and eight.

^{“I’m Isolde,” she added:
“And where did you come from…?”}

---

SPOILER: Click to show

{Post Synposis:}
_{Isolde is captivated by Titho’s music, wasting no time afterwards to ask the question of where he came from.}

---

Lahar Isolde | #cf71af

[pepsi]

-- CHAPTER 2 // THE SWORD OF JOLNIR

Titho straightened his spine when a voice seemed to come out of complete nowhere, addressing him. He was so intensely wrapped up in his own music he stopped paying attention at anything other than the sea and the notes it inspired in him.
He clutched the flute in his hands, turning to see who or what it could be. His eyes met the vivid stare of two shockingly blue pearls crowned with white hair; he had to do a double take as he realised it was probably the most beautiful girl he had come across in a while.
He was glad his shell only let out a fraction of his facial expressions, for he would have blushed for sure without it.

His shoulders relaxed once she asked where he came from. At times like that he hated not being able to just tell anyone his thoughts directly, like some sort of telepathy. He tilted the head on the side, resting the palm of one hand on his chest; then, with the same hand, he pointed at the far horizon, where the sun was setting.
Then, he brought the same hand high over his head, mimicking someone even taller than him.

It was about time he asked something, his thought process warned. After all, how many times did he have the possibility to talk with such a personable individual?
Titho patted twice on his chest. With his flute still firmly in one hand, he traced out the letters on the rocky sand with the other...

T... I... T... H... O...

After he was done, he leant forward, shifting his weight in the direction of the woman. Lifting one open hand towards her, he silently asked her to reciprocate. Not on the name, most likely, but about her origins.

-- NAME // Titho Kjartan Morana

-- CLASS // E

-- TECHS USED // None.

[Vio]

^{Isolde #3}

---

Curious was the visage that stared back at her when he turned — a face hidden behind dark segmentation that masked much of his appearance. This was, strangely, not the most unusual thing that Lahar Isolde had ever seen, but it was an oddity. A mysterious knight of melodies, tall and heroic, was almost enough to strike her down with awe. But strangest of all was not the man’s appearance, but his reactions; no words escaped his lips as he gestured about to the vibrant red at world’s end.

Isolde blinked, head tilting.

^{“You come from,” she pieced together:
“A faraway land of tall people…?”}

Still naive to this blue world’s many nuances and inhabitants, Isolde’s knowledge was lacking. Perhaps others could have put two and two together, but she could only muster a three. Fortunately, the silent sentinel did his utmost to introduce himself proper, and the carving of letters into the sand with just a fingertip identified him. Blue eyes traced the written form.

“Titho? That’s your name,” Isolde said with some certainty. The gentleman’s gestures were more than clear — a patting of a plated chest to indicate himself as the subject. The motions that followed were perhaps less easily defined, if not for the fact that she had already spoken her name once; a fact somewhat forgotten, or at the very least worth reminding.

“Isolde,” the winged woman nodded. “And I’m from…” Her voice trailed, deciding it better to answer as Titho had done. Besides, naming her homeland would likely mean nothing — it never had done to any soul she had met down here in the Blue Seas. One hand reached high, shoulder muscles causing her downy cape to spread wider and catch sunset hues. A finger pointed high to the sky as twilight dyed it with ink and speckled lights, among the clouds whose plumes captured the eve’s last light and turned it pink as her complexion.

^{“Brrr…,” Miss Lahar shivered, arms wrapping about her frame:
“W— Why is it so c— cold down here?!”}

---

SPOILER: Click to show

{Post Synposis:}
_{Isolde just about manages to make sense of Titho’s silent explanations, then answers him, but soon realises the temperature is far more chill than she is used to.}

---

Lahar Isolde | #cf71af

[pepsi]

-- CHAPTER 2 // THE SWORD OF JOLNIR

Titho nodded once the girl correctly guessed his name. The faint bending of his eyes was the closest to a smile on his armorclad face; the smile quickly faded once Isolde mentioned the temperature of the place being too low.
Weird, he thought, that even with all that padding on her head and body she would feel cold; he wasn't quite in the same spot. Titho chuckled to himself: for an instant, he imagined Isolde on Elbaf, and understood that she needed such a heavy attire after all.
He rubbed his chin, and after careful thinking, he remembered the music and feasting he heard coming from a nearby village while exploring the island. Looking back at Isolde, he rubbed his arms, mimicking her; then, he brought the right thumb near his mouth - or rather, where his mouth was supposed to be - and gestured drinking.
In his opinion, there was no better way to beat the cold than a refreshing alcoholic drink. He didn't need one, but he wouldn't let go of the opportunity to have a drink with a new friend. He awaited a response, and then set off towards the one place he had in mind.

After a few tens of steps, a scream could be heard coming from the trees. It was a man, stumbling forwards in a panicked run. It didn't take long for him to tumble to the ground, groaning in pain; the back, now visible, revealed the tip of a broken spear.
Titho accelerated his pace, rushing to aid the injured man. There was nothing to do, as he had already lost too much blood; the knight shook his head in confusion. Intent on knowing more, he glanced over towards Isolde, and proceeded forwards.

The small village, nothing more than a series of stilt houses connected by long wooden platforms, was deserted. That couldn't have been nap time for everybody, Titho thought; something must have happened.
Almost instinctively, he looked back at Isolde, hoping that she would have an idea what to do next.

-- NAME // Titho Kjartan Morana

-- CLASS // E

-- TECHS USED // None.

[Vio]

^{Isolde #4}

---

Still juddering at the bitter wind that buffeted her, Isolde watched with mixed curiosity as Titho — a man whose face was still obscured by his helm — mimed the action of drinking. Culturally speaking, she took a moment to understand what he was implying, for seldom did her people ever drink beverages with the intent of warming their core. They did not need to. Indeed, hot food and drink was a rarity; something she could only seem to sample down here, where the temperature was far below her extreme norms.

She nodded.

“Th— That seems like a g— good idea,” Miss Lahar exhaled, though not wholly understanding what it was the man was attempting to convey. Did he know of somewhere near where warming liquids could be found? Or perhaps he knew a settlement where the people would be willing to serve! Though such ideas certainly crossed her mind as she watched him take broad strides through the sand and pebbles, any opportunity to confirm was batted aside when a pained scream emerged from the trees.

Titho’s pace quickened. To see a knight in shining armour, dark as it might have been, rushing to the aid of a panicked and injured citizen was nothing short of wondrous. Not to mention the fact that such protection did little to fully conceal what must have been a stunning physique. By the time the knight glanced back, the winged woman was already frozen in place, though not through cold. Crystal blue eyes agleam, hands clasped together before her bosom, she was stock still with mouth agape in some sort awestruck smile.

The hero wasted no time; nor did the chill.

“Eek! That’s cold! Oh? W— Wait for me!” Snapped from her momentary trance, the snow-haired Sky Islander scurried across the sands in pursuit of Titho, whose silent drive had already pushed him on ahead. Through the trees she slipped, breaching the foliage shortly thereafter in Titho’s wake, vision graced only by an awkwardly still example of a village. The lack of noise solidified in her mind that something was wrong, face distorting into a far more serious frown as she looked past her armoured entourage.

“Hm? This isn’t right,” Isolde muttered, scratching her temple as she observed, and even walking beyond where Titho stood to better analyse the town’s nuances. A settlement primarily forged of simple timber frames, animal hides, flaxen ropes, and muddy aggregates. It looked primitive, elevated somewhat, but most definitely showed signs of recent habitation. Warded off by the trees, the settlement was illuminated almost exclusively by burning torches atop lengths of wood driven into the Vearth, casting hazy shadows every which way.

“Titho,” she said, confident and cautious alike in her intonations. “Help me search. There might be more people here still, hiding…” Closing her eyes briefly, she inhaled, the chill air filling her lungs again. Thoughts moved through possibilities, but the greatest question on her mind was of no relation to the scene before her, but to something else entirely.

Think, Isolde! What would Tristan do? Step by step she moved closer, deeper towards the centrepoint of the village, all the while keeping an eye on the shadows that lingered behind beast skin huts and under mundane wooden walkways. The idea of a town being completely abandoned so close to nightfall had her on edge, but silence did not necessitate emptiness. Tristan wouldn’t be afraid to make his presence known, she affirmed.

^{“Hello!” Isolde announced:
“Is anybody here? We mean no harm!”}

---

SPOILER: Click to show

{Post Synposis:}
_{Isolde follows Titho through the treeline into the village, then calls out to grab the attention of anyone in hiding.}

---

Lahar Isolde | #cf71af

[pepsi]

-- CHAPTER 2 // THE SWORD OF JOLNIR

It didn't take long before Isolde's yelling attracted just the kind of people that Titho expected. From behind a corner of a hut appeared a man, followed by two others. "So," his voice resounded in the ambience, "they already called the reinforcements?"
It was a male, of height halfway between that of Isolde's and Titho's, wearing - what a coincidence - a full set of white armor. His helmet resting in one hand and a spear in the other, he addressed the two. "What's with these tribes? You attacked my ship without reason. But I, Sir Gallahant, cannot be defeated. My strength is as the strength of ten."
The blonde hair, fair skin and blue eyes of the man, with his attire and straight spine, made him look like a hero of ancient folklore. "For, you see, my heart is pure. A good knight ought to be loving to his friends, and merciless to his foes." Thus he spoke, and threw his lance at Isolde.

Any insect collector would know.
A very quick and easy way to pin insects on a surface is to just literally stab them through the center of their abdomen with a thumb tack. Most of the time, the thumb tack is just long enough to keep the insect in place without destroying the exoskeleton.
In a large collection, many insects would be pinned down with this method... except for one. This one needs to be glued on, or otherwise kept in a different way, because this bug...

... cannot be pierced.

The shell of the so-called "ironclad beetle", true to its name, is so thick that no thumb tack is sturdy enough to pierce through it; if one tried with a bigger pin, it would be too thick to penetrate without destroying the bug entirely. And even doing so is a daunting task: those beetles could sustain the pressure of an adult human's feet - the equivalent of being able to resist the crushing weight of a Sea King for a grown man.
Titho's massive form stood tall, casting a shadow over Isolde's entire body; he had moved in front of her, back towards the enemy.

Krasch!

The wooden spear shattered against Titho's ironclad defense; his body didn't move an inch. "Sturdy armour you have, condottiere." Gallahant turned around, looking towards his ship. "Écuyers, please take care of them. Our objective is on the other side of the island."
The two guards behind him stepped forwards; Titho immediately turned around, assuming a fighting stance but never leaving his position in front of her. He had the instinct to protect her, although he didn't exactly know why; it had more to do with something in his blood, he thought - what good Giant would not protect others with every mean necessary?

-- NAME // Titho Kjartan Morana

-- CLASS // E

-- TECHS USED // None.

-- NAME // Sir Gallahant

-- CLASS // ???

-- TECHS USED // None.

[Vio]

^{Isolde #5}

---

A voice, male, emanated from about a corner. Isolde’s eyes moved, but once again her body did not, for the sight she beheld was one of divinity. Lustrous blond locks, fair and pristine skin, and eyes which almost matched her own brilliant hues all defined the features of what was, in and of his entirety, an incredibly handsome man. Whatever words escaped his mouth thereafter were mostly lost, but the woman’s entrancement was thus broken by an act that defied Gallahant’s very words.

But not broken soon enough.

“Oh,” was about all Miss Lahar could utter as the point of a spear closed in upon her, but fate had smiled upon her that day — fate which took the form of a hulking man in darkest plate. Gallahant’s weapon splintered on impact, rendered as nothing more than fragile glassware against the rock solid defences of Titho. “Th— Thank you,” she huffed half breathlessly, looking up to meet the silent sentinel’s eyes as their assailant spoke again. This time, the knight in white called upon his company, turning away as he did so.

^{“At once, my Captain,” spoke another:
“Verily we shall dispatch them swiftly!”}

These people speak strangely… Isolde noted, popping her head out from behind Titho’s form to better observe the orator as he stepped forward. The clinking of his own polished armour was readily audible, his voice tinny from the strange and almost spherical helm he wore — an article that entirely obscured his visage behind a mesh of myriad minute holes. Where his liege preferred lances, he seemed to carry a heater shield and a rather different weapon; a mace adorned with sharpened protuberances.

“Have at thee, black knight! Prove thine integrity, of armour and spirit alike,” he continued, matching the combative stance which Titho had adopted with one of his own. Shield raised in preparation as he edged forwards, his weapon held tight in his right hand, his motives were nigh impossible to read through the bascinet that completely contained his head.

Alright, Isolde! No more gawking at these men! No matter how brave, strong, and extremely handsome they might be, you have to focus! That one, the winged woman continued, shoring up her resolve: He proclaimed himself to have a pure heart, yet he attacked blindly! Whatever glaciation had formed upon her to immobilise her in the extremely attractive face of death had been dislodged, melted away by a rising fire within her soul as she took to heart Gallahant’s sanctimonious speech. She knew heroism, chivalry, and honour — the burning in her gut told her that he carried not even an ounce of such things in him.

---

SPOILER: Click to show

{Post Synposis:}
_{Isolde is stunned by Gallahant’s features, but is saved from a spear by Titho. As Gallahant turns away, one of his squires steps forward to challenge Titho as Isolde fires herself up.}

---

Lahar Isolde | #cf71af
Titho | #ffffff
Gallahant [NPC]| #d4af37
Morning Star Knight [NPC] | #37c7d4

[pepsi]

-- CHAPTER 2 // THE SWORD OF JOLNIR

Titho didn't like how arrogantly the others had acted. First attacking an innocent woman, and then, even challenging him to fight out in the open? That was hardly the place where to have a fair fight.
The second knight didn't flinch, nor did he speak. Silent, his brown armor shining - what a coincidence, for so many knights had showed up on that island that day - he unsheathed the sword, and reached for the shield on his back.
His helmet, much like his sword and his shield, were suspiciously oblong; it was as if the shape of the knight's head was not as spherical as that of a regular human's and - was that a bundle of strands hanging behind the man's back?
Titho tightened his stance, keeping his ground; the brown knight advanced, charging with the shield; Titho braced for impact, but got much more than what he bargained for. The shield suddenly crackled with electricity, and acted like a repelling magnet on the black knight's body; he was pushed to the side, almost losing his balance, ending up resting on one knee.

Almost without losing momentum, the brown knight opened up his defense and raised his left hand, where the sword was; charging it up with electricity again, he slashed downwards in Isolde's direction.
Titho, watching the scene unfold from so close, wished for the gift of spoken word - just so he could scream out her name.

-- NAME // Titho Kjartan Morana

-- CLASS // E

-- TECHS USED // None.

[Vio]

^{Isolde #6}

---

Despite the first knight’s challenge being issued, it was the second — a figure in brown — that struck first. A forward charge that pushed the sturdy Titho aside with crackling energy, only to expose Isolde herself to the electrified assault. Blue buzzed and sparked at the edge of the impending steel, but the Sky Islander had already made up her mind. These men were certainly unworthy of admiration; unworthy of hesitation in the actions that unfolded.

Wings flared wide.

“You call yourselves fair of heart,” Miss Lahar growled, at first stepping forward as the lightning blade reached the zenith of its great arc. Already, changes were in effect, boiling blood accompanying a shift in stature as she lowered her head, starting to pivot upon her heel. “But no false knight can hope to slay…,” she continued, form now larger by half, wings spread wide, skin partly decorated with blue slate scales. But most distinctly of all, as her furred ushanka dropped from her head, a peculiar crown of sunset pink:

^{“… A Crowned Beast!”}

Bzzzt…! Electricity crackled upon the descending edge, but the blade’s reach was not enough to serve the brown battler against such a counterattack as Isolde’s. A cape of white feathers at first obscured, then unveiled the predatory drake that she had become. Part woman, part dragon, part angel; legs split as she ducked to the side, minimising the lethality of the incoming blow, simultaneously aiming to deliver her own strike as a scaled tail whipped about from her hip and lashed against armour.

Even a man in full plate was no immovable object.

“Tch! Show off,” babbled the second, rushing forth to engage the ironclad man in his companion’s wake. Shield raised, morning star at the ready, the clank of his armour almost drowned out something else entirely. His opponent would have little time to mull over the scene of dragon and thunder, for his approach was soon signalled by trailing miasma. Like some sort of incense burner, the weapon’s head emitted wisps of mustard seed coloured vapours as it swung forth, carried further still through momentum upon a chain concealed within the haft.

^{“Heed my challenge, black knight!”}

---

SPOILER: Click to show

{Post Synposis:}
Isolde transforms into her Half-Beast state in order to launch a counterattack via her Khvist Drakona technique. Meanwhile, the other knight launches his own assault on Titho, flinging forth the secretly chained head of his unusual morning star.

---

SPOILER: Click to show

{Isolde: Half-Beast}
_{Isolde can also achieve a hybrid state between her regular self and her Full-Beast form, retaining humanoid features but growing to a height of 8’6” (259 cm) and developing blue scales upon most of her body, excluding the lower jaw, throat, chest, and stomach area. She becomes somewhat more muscular, with clawed hands and more dinosaurian legs, complete with a powerful tail. Much of her head becomes more reptilian, and develops a red-pink crest upon her crown. She maintains her wings, which scale up proportionally.}

SPOILER: Click to show

{Isolde: Khvist Drakona}
_{Isolde uses the flexibility of her tail in her Half-Beast to deliver a powerful, whipping strike.}

SPOILER: Click to show

{Knight: Morning Star}
_{The weapon releases small amounts of yellow miasma. Impacts with the morning star’s spikes work similar to sea mines, but release large billows of the miasma. The miasma is basically a potent tear gas and serves as a sort of smoke screen.}

---

Lahar Isolde | #cf71af
Titho | #ffffff
Gallahant [NPC]| #d4af37
Morning Star Knight [NPC] | #37c7d4

[pepsi]

-- CHAPTER 2 // THE SWORD OF JOLNIR

Titho's eyes widened as the girl disappeared before his eyes, making way for a much more monstruous hybrid between a human and a reptile. There was no time to think, but the realisation that Isolde could have obtained powers similar to his settled in very rapidly in his subconscious.
In short, he understood that the girl could defend herself. He would have defended her anyways - even if he had known - for the pride of a Giant is unshakeable; he could breathe a sigh of relief, however, because the numbers were made even - or, rather, more in their favour. Going by size and strength alone, Titho outmatched everyone one to ten, although nobody could guess.

The other knight, far from allowing his pal to do all the work, stepped in and flailed his chained weapon at the kneeling Titho. From that position, he was at a complete disadvantage.
He couldn't dodge, he couldn't roll away, for he had lost too much time looking at Isolde's revelation. And just defending wouldn't cut it either: the knight could have just kept bashing down on him, preventing him from even getting up.
There was no obvious way out, unless he wanted to hurt himself. And if he just had to get hurt...
Titho slammed his left hand on the floor, to push himself up; the wooden planks creaked and shattered under his palm. The other arm coiled back towards his right hip, ready to strike; in the center of his field of view, the enemy's weapon.

Giants are rare, which makes their existence legendary to some and even more legendary are their abilities. The pure strength of a giant is so that one can easily destroy anything on his path; they are natural disasters.
When such explosive force is compressed into a tiny space, what could ever happen?

His right fist was launched towards the morning star with all of Titho's might. A frightening punch: back in Elbaf, just your average forehand; on any other island, an earthquake in his palm. [Technique: Landskjálpti Mäkt Atgeir]

The brown knight didn't expect such a sudden and extreme transformation. His opponent was supposed to be a much easier target; not only did he not expect a new form, he outright didn't register the counterattack.
He didn't have enough time to put the shield between the tail and his body; the sheer strength of the attack was enough to shove him right to the side, away from Titho and into the main door of a nearby hut. The door caved in lightly, but didn't break down.
A trained ear wouldn't ignore the high pitched scream that seemed to come out of the hut after the door was bent inwards.

The brown knight, pushing himself off of the door, repositioned himself back on a combat stance: shield up, sword poking through from the side. He blowed forcefully through the helmet, and dashed towards Isolde. It was no ordinary dash: much faster than the average, much stronger than any human's.
His sword and shield lit up with electricity; if she didn't move from there, he would have plunged his sword deep into her chest or bashed her with his shield.

-- NAME // Titho Kjartan Morana

-- CLASS // E

-- TECHS USED // Landskjálpti Mäkt Atgeir
Titho punches the opponent shifting the weight into the punch; the combination of weight and strength is enough to send lighter opponents flying, depending on the difference in weight and height between Titho and them. If used against the ground when Titho's height is at its maximum, it can cause the ground to shake in a large area around him.

[Vio]

^{Isolde #7}

---

“Thine is a fool’s errand,” the armoured assailant muttered through his helm as Titho’s answer came in the form of a fist. But to the silver-grey sir, what followed next was equally as surprising as it was understood. As Titho’s blow intercepted the chained flail, the weapon’s head erupted; mustard fumes spewed from minute vents at the base of each barb, swaddling the air with a thick, yellowish cloud of choking miasma. But it was only by chance that the morningstar’s wielder raised his shield, just enough to save himself from being struck by his own weapon’s head as it breached the cloud at speed.

He stumbled, nearly tumbled from the force.

^{“I dare say, Black Knight,” he retorted:
“Thou hast quite the punch!”}

That actually stung a bit… Better than trying to claw or bite, though, Miss Lahar noted, tail recoiling as she steadied her footing. Striking metal armour was nothing short of a stupid move, yet it had worked in her favour, all thanks to the gifts of the Crowned Beast. Such strength was unparalleled, at least as far as she was aware. A brief glance across to Titho’s position showed her nothing — an obscuring haze of yellow-brown smoke had enveloped much of the quiet guardian’s form and served to completely block vision of the rogue knight beyond.

Hmm… I guess that means there are still people here, too, she further thought, taking stock of the sounds that were previously unheard. The stir of combat had stirred others in hiding. Still, Isolde was given little opportunity to make further assessments, for soon enough the russet paladin came forth again with arsenal alight with blue sparks. Knees bent, lowering herself to the ground before kicking skywards and out of the swift paladin’s way, though maybe not as quickly as she would have liked.

One way or another, she would land behind him.

^{“Phew! That was close,” the Cryolophosaurus woman exhaled:
“How are you even doing that…?!”}

Click! The weapon of the second knight set itself back into place, tether contained within haft. His shield now somewhat dented, though very much still intact, he primed himself again with forward defences as he slowly approached the thick smoke discharged from his own weapon. A cautious approach, for he did not know — nor could he see — what was beyond the cloud of his own design…

^{“Thou should not stand too long,” he proclaimed:
“Lest my star’s toxins steal away thy breath…”}

---

SPOILER: Click to show

{Post Synposis:}
Isolde avoids her opponent’s assault narrowly, but is unsure how to combat the electrical attacks. The knight primes his defence against Titho.

---

SPOILER: Click to show

{Isolde: Half-Beast}
_{Isolde can also achieve a hybrid state between her regular self and her Full-Beast form, retaining humanoid features but growing to a height of 8’6” (259 cm) and developing blue scales upon most of her body, excluding the lower jaw, throat, chest, and stomach area. She becomes somewhat more muscular, with clawed hands and more dinosaurian legs, complete with a powerful tail. Much of her head becomes more reptilian, and develops a red-pink crest upon her crown. She maintains her wings, which scale up proportionally.}

---

Lahar Isolde | #cf71af
Titho | #ffffff
Gallahant [NPC] | #d4af37
Morning Star Knight [NPC] | #37c7d4

[pepsi]

-- CHAPTER 2 // THE SWORD OF JOLNIR

The punch connected, as the incredibly sharp pain in his hand confirmed. Titho flinched; that was at least two fingers broken, maybe even three, he thought. His enemy was luckier: a fraction of a second was what parted him from defeat, and a few layers of metal.
The issue, however, was not the lucky combination. The issue was the yellow-brownish mist that erupted from the mere weapon Titho tried to strike; in some way or another, he actually had made matters worse. The Giant's cough preannounced his adversary's very words; Titho suddenly felt his throat burn.
"Toxins" were just one more entry for the list of deplorable tactics those self-proclaimed knights used; to the Giant, that was definitely the last straw that broke the camel's back.

But first, he had to move out of harm's way.

If the knight looked for him in the mist, he would find nothing. If he waited for him to come out, nothing would have appeared either. The "black knight" was clearly not inside the mist, yet he had never exited.

The brown knight, obeying inertia, proceeded forwards for a few meters before having to brake against the wooden floor, breaking off a few planks in the process.
"Thou forsooth hast some skill." The knight said, and his words were followed by a thunderous metal clangor. The knight shed his upper armor, helmet, and shield; a funny humanoid creature with the body of a man and the head of a horse was revealed to be the brown knight's true appearance. One question was natural: if he was just that fast with all that metal on, what could have happened without it?
The horse knight pointed his sword at the girl, and declared: "We shall see if thou art fast enough".
With those words, he dashed again going for her heart, much faster than before; electric sparks followed his every step as his legs moved so fast they became a blur.

The old woman in the room was trembling, but she did what was possible to stay silent after Titho gently mimicked a "hush". He was resting against the door of the hut, a few meters away from the deadly poison cloud.
The cloud... if Titho saw the crevice in the wooden platform below him, it was only because he was kneeling already. Otherwise, he wouldn't have thought of walking into it as a beetle, and while upside-down, look for a similar crevice where to re-emerge.

Turning his back to the woman, Titho calmly knocked on the door. That was bound to gather his adversary's attention, he thought - he wasn't a great planner, after all, and he couldn't exploit such an opportunity any other way.
He tended an ear to what was happening on the other side of the door, and walked backwards towards the woman. One quick glance towards her, filled with regret for doing what he was about to do.

Hoping to take his enemy by surprise, he rammed at the door, breaking through it; with some luck, he would have gotten up close and personal with the unknightly knight.

-- NAME // Titho Kjartan Morana

-- CLASS // E

-- TECHS USED // None.