Hexwizard Task 1: Beauxbatons v Durmstrang

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Interacts. - Cielle ═══════════════════	xx	EN #664d00, GR, RU #A57865 23/10/2022 | In armour [x] ═══════════════════	xx	Mentions. - Felix, Valentin ═══════════════════

Lysander was agile but he could not be everywhere at once. He made a split second choice to protect Cielle, the closest body to his and a heavy hitter in her own right. It was a valiant, but unnecessary effort. Beauxbatons must have finally realised that Durmstrang was all heavy hitters, especially their Queen, because next thing Lysander knew he was crumpled to the ground. He sucked in air in a rare sympathy for Kolbeck, to ponder whether he should have fallen in his place. One thing was for sure, there would have been no winning in either situation—a hit from Maximillien would have ended him as well. «“Hear that? It's up to us, it seems.”» he said after ripping his eyes away from the scene. Ever encouraging, Valentin was commanding from his position on the board. If Cielle's eyes met his, she'd see Lysander's sparkling with friendly competition. They may have lost their Queen, but their position now was optimal, both practically breathing down the enemy Champion's neck. Who would land the finishing blow?

STATS: STA 12; EVA 20; STR 13; WIS 5; ARC 0; ACC 15 ABILITIES: Evasive Maneuvers I, Evasive Maneuvers II, Charmer, Fearless

ACTIONS: N/A

It was an ache; a loud, bone-deep ache that didn't creep its way into his mind, but loudly announced itself as it took root in the darkened state of his semi-conscious mind. It seeped into every corner and stifled his senses, leaving the boy prone on the cold tile of the chessboard over which he once so powerfully reigned.

A Queen, taken too soon; a team, who needed her so; a champion, the herald of Beauxbaton's victory, clinging to the last shreds of hope. Witches and wizards, carrying the weight of France on their young shoulders. They will not back down in the face of adversity, in the light of desperation. They have overcome too much already.

Collapsed at the feet of those he had looked down upon, Amaury's sacrifice had not been in vain. The boy's opponents would feel the wrath of the Queen of Beauxbatons and they would fear his power. They would become beaten and bruised. Yet they, too, held the flame of the fight in their hearts.

They were not to be underestimated. The unsteady mirage of Victory still graced both sides, not quite yet swayed by the relentless tides of battle. The match would be decided soon: one champion, left bloodied and bested on the board; one holding their head high in honor and might. And yet, the war still raged— they beat on, boats against the current.

Hide Away: The King must save himself, he hides behind an adjacent allied piece and takes half damage (the piece they are hiding behind also takes half damage). Damage is not healing or buffs, it is just damage. Evasion here would be a separate roll for both the King (for their half) and the piece that they are hiding behind. This action occurs during the action phase which is before the movement phase, but has priority (meaning it happens before attacks, so an attack may not be possible or may be redirected towards another piece that is now "in the way.") The space is chosen by the King and must be adjacent to an allied piece. If the space is occupied, there would be a contested strength check to determine who will remain in this space unless the adjacent piece is an ally in which case a contested check is not needed. This is action can be done in addition to the movement phase.

Valentin performs Hide Away with Yefim (D3)

Shield Bash: Smashes an adjacent piece (cannot be on the diagonal) with their shield. Strength * 50 for damage on a single opponent.

Toss Aside: exchanges places with an adjacent piece. Cannot be done on the diagonal. This involves a contested strength check and on success the Castle exchanges places with another piece. No contested strength is necessary of the piece is allies/wiling. This is done on the action phase which is before the movement phase which means that a statement movement action by an opponent might be impossible (and therefore lost), however the piece will attempt to move the same spaces in the same direction as previously declared.

Lysander unable to perform Shield Bash as there is no opponent in range.

It seemed, with all her joking around, Cassanora had offered the warmongering gods a final insult. Offering her friend and staunch protector a reassurance in remembrance, she and Roberta both got blasted by one of the enemy's bishops. Roberta parried most of it, shielding Cass from harm. She could feel the magic bite in her, yet at the same time her friend tried to offer her salvation. Her own trusted bishop was healing her as they fought back.

Cassanora witnessed Andre getting Amaury back up on his feet, but take a beating himself. The world was slowing down, and thought it seemed they had broken through the Horde's line of defence, there was no more time. As Cassanora turned, she was met with an unexpected sight. With the multitude of attacks she had to deal with in the last few minutes, she had not taken the time to check where Durmstrang's champion had been. Now he stood before her, clad in white, seated upon a mighty steed. She had walked straight into his attack.

"Vive Beauxbat-" Her words would get cut short as the blast of his attack pummelled into her lungs. Cass felt her head smack against the black and white tiles as her body was thrust back by the sheer force of the assault. Her smaller frame would disappear into the heavy black cloak as they both fell onto the floor. The black king's crown rolled across the floor until it spun one final time and lay broken by Yefim's feet.

Clenching one fist and trying to find a grip on her cloak, Cass was trying to catch her breath. She suddenly felt overwhelmed and tired. But it was done, and her eyes seemed to agree as they tried to force her to sleep. She looked at Roberta standing next to her and tried to smile. With as much breath she could muster, Cass would whisper her friend a final word of encouragement: "Nous sommes venus chanter au soleil... épées dégainées" "We came singing in the sun, swords unsheathed" She sighed and closed her eyes, resting the side of her face against the cold tiles. "Comme promis..." "As promised"

Cassanora would open her eyes again as felt sunlight hitting her face. She woke up in a field of tulips. Yellow ones, like the ones she used to collect for her papa. The field reached far behind the horizon, over the edge of a hill she could not see beyond. As her hair twirled with the gust of the wind, her ears picked up on a tune. A guitar, gently played to a happy whistling tune. She turned around and was met with a garden, beautifully tended. Small, but delightful. As she got up and walked around the bushes, she tried to find the source of the tune. And there she found him.

A blond haired man, singing in the sun. His guitar, white and glimmering in the light of day as his fingers gently strummed the delicate snares. Golden light seemed to reflect on any surface, and even the plants and bees were looking to get a glimpse of the happy man sitting in his garden, on a white painted bench by a kitchen window. Cass would stop her approach as she picked up the smell coming from within the house. Her nose lifted itself up in the air as it couldn't get enough. Freshly baked cookies and cake. "I've brought you some more tulips, papa."

Caradoc opened his eyes and smiled back at his daughter. "Did you now? Well, I suppose I need to find a place for them..." He laughed as he accepted his gift. Caradoc seemed to think and look around for a second before he found the answer. "Aha!" He cried as he planted all three tulips behind his ear. "That is per. fect. If I do say so myself" He winked and sniffed the air as his nose turned to face the kitchen again.

"Do you think we can steal a few of Nora's cookies again?" Cassanora asked jokingly. She knew Nora would just offer her some should she ask, it was her father that got in trouble for taking them when he shouldn't. Caradoc laughed again, his fingers started strumming again. "I already ate five of them" He whispered with a mischievous grin. "Come. Come here, sit next to me" He waved Cass to come closer.

"It's beautiful out here" he said, as he lifted his face towards the sun. "The sun is smiling..." He said. "and when it does, people-" "...should be singing" Cassanora finished his sentence with a smile. "Yes!" Caradoc responded with excitement. "Imagine the sun there, every day, up in the sky. And whatever the day may bring, you'll be singing in the sun." Cassanora smiled and hugged her father just before they both started singing a happy little tune and her dream faded away.

Moderator-level action (?): Attempt reparifors on Mikael. Other investigative actions are flavor-oriented if there is a moderated action limit.

Stats: STA 8 ✦ EVA 14 ✧ STR 2 ✦ WIS 15 ✧ARC 1 ✦ ACC 15 - Ency
Abilities: Keen Eye ✦ Charmer ✧ Evasive Maneuvers ✦ Fearless

Valentin's English; Valentin's Russian.
Val's HP: 417 [+130 Shielded] / 800
Mikael = Misha = Mishenka = Mik

Song Inspiration

@Flash Holmwood, @Aida Mòrsgor-Ama Ellwood, @Alec Mason

| Stamina 10 | Evasion 8 | Strength 12 | Wisdom 6 | Arcane Power 6 | Accuracy 10 |

Lovely Creature - Terrible Presence - Perfectionist - Fearless

¤ | Ω | ¤

Nec Temere, Nec Timide. Durmstrang Institute's

Romeo Giovanni Marchonné

"English." "Italiano. Italian." "Russian."

| Faint Scar on Left Eye & Mangled Right Ear | \ Fingerless Glove on Right Hand / | Lichtenberg Figure on Right Arm and Down Back |

Yefim Rumyantsev, Johannes Sauer, Amina Miller, Mikael Halldorson & Felix Kolbeck
@Flash Holmwood, @Astrea Soleil Neptune, @Ileen Knight, @Percival Rainwood & @Winnie Harper

As I sensed the game coming to a close, I rose from my seat on the bench and began to pace like a caged animal on the edge of the chess board. Watching over my team like a hawk, I tried my best not to catch the pleading eye of Valentin. After all, there wasn’t much that I could do at this very moment; I couldn’t simply leap onto the board and begin healing my allies or harming my enemies. It wouldn’t do to have the entire Durmstrang team be eliminated because an illegal knight or bishop entered the fray before the game was over.

Felix falls despite Jojo’s successful revivification of Mikael, and I flinch again. Not only was there something… off… with how Mikael came back to the world of the conscious, but I was also concerned with the wellbeing of Felix. There weren’t too many on our team that possessed noteworthy medical prowess, and I was one of those special few. Even then my abilities lay more in reinforcing what strength my patients already had, not in bringing back those who had already expended all the strength they had. I could probably help Mikael regain his strength… but when it came to ensuring the stabilization of Felix… I would be dearly outside of my element.

“Come on… come on…” I growled as I paced, glaring at the opposing champion with just as much venom as a mother bear watching humans daring to mess with her cubs in her line of sight. “Дерьмо. Shit. Come on!” I hiss under my breath, fingers curling and uncurling as I waited for something, anything, to happen so that I could finally leave the confines of the woodwork and help my team in whatever recovery necessary.

And finally the moment came as the champion finally relinquished her fight and tumbled to the ground; a king finally surrendered to the checkmate. The instant she struck the ground, I was already storming across the board and beelining directly for the felled Feliciano. “Way ahead of you, Champ.” I shouted back to Yefim in a thundering baritone that carried with it an edge of danger. As I drew close I was already retrieving from my backpocket a soft red leather notebook only a bit larger than a wallet. “Back off a bit, give me room.” I softly requested before getting down to Felix’ level and immediately slipping into a paramedic’s mindframe. My first adoptive father had been a pediatrician, fond of teaching basic skills that he knew whenever such situations arose: treatment of abrasions and bruises from scuffling and roughhousing, how to identify early symptoms of concussions, setting bones and preparing fractures for healing, and how to assess levels of consciousness (though this last was reserved for situations pertaining more to the paramedic occupation as opposed to his actual forte).

I began to assess Feliciano’s condition based on these things that I knew. Despite his battered condition, he didn’t appear to have any festering bleed wounds. I could instead focus on stabilizing his breathing and ensure that he had a clear airway. In lieu of having to check or fear of cervical fractures, I went for a safe head tilt chin lift method of opening the airway. Dropping my notebook to the side, I use both hands (one with my fingertips at the tip of his chin, the other across his forehead) to gently tilt his head back without jeopardizing the alignment of his neck and spine. After I was confident in the security of his airway, I began my assessments. “Felix Kolbeck, can you hear me?” I asked him in a firm voice while pressing my right hand’s fore and middle finger just beneath his chin at the location of his carotid artery. Checking for a pulse, its strength, and its pace. The back of my left hand hovers over his mouth and nose, feeling for even the lightest breath as I try to spy for any visible breathing through the queen’s gown binding his chest and stomach. I had to know his immediate condition before I could move forward in treatment. He had taken a beating, and it was more than likely he would need more than my first response medicine could do for him. “Felix Kolbeck, do you know the name of the school you attend?”

I doubted that he was alert, and if he did not answer in either a coherent or a verbal fashion (as it was likely that he wouldn’t), I finished taking his pulse and instead took his hand, harshly squeezing either side of his right hand’s middle finger in the hopes of triggering a pain response such as a hiss or a yelp. That would inform me that he was at least able to respond to pain and that he was not completely unresponsive. I didn’t trust a moderation of my strength enough to attempt a sternum rub without accidentally causing more harm than good.

If he didn’t even respond to that… this was far more serious than I thought.

“A Revive Potion or Revival spell would be nice right around now!” I speak loudly for anyone to hear. “Getting him awake would be really good for us!” It sounds half a request and half a demand. I really was not having the whole bystander effect right now. Adults were watching from press boxes and surely there were supposed to be medical personnel on the sidelines. Why had it fallen on my shoulders to take care of my teammates in this high of stakes right now? “Man, it sure would be nice to get some mediwizard assistance or perhaps nurse assistance?” I can’t help it as my voice raises in volume and an undertone of callous frustration began to build. “Why me…?” I bemoan under my breath.

If attempting to stabilize Felix counts as a “Medicine Check” Action (with the help of Healing Sage)

Reducio

I continued to perform the immediate care methods necessary to stabilize until others of more refined talents could take care of Felix. Ideally I wanted to maneuver him into a recovery position, but for the time being I had to ensure that he would not be at risk of dying. If I could ensure that he was neither in a position of slipping closer to the grave or coming closer to consciousness… he had a chance.

Once I knew that his condition wasn’t at immediate risk of systematic collapse, I could then focus on trying my best to revive him.

Ultimately at the be all end all; if he had no breath or pulse… I was willing to begin compressions and CPR. Anything to save a life, anything to ensure the continued strength of the team.

If attempting to stabilize Felix is not a Moderationable Action

Reducio

Perhaps direct healing, or at least mild reversal of the physical pains that he had endured would be the first step towards a successful recovery.

“Valetin, I need your help. Take my notebook and find the page labeled ‘Episkey’ for me.” I request as I continue to assess Feliciano’s condition. I could definitely help to relieve some of his outward injuries, though with a minor healing spell and a restoration charm (which mind you usually only helps to revert magically inflicted injuries), I could only do so much.

So much would have to do, however; I was a poor man in the ways of magic, no matter how knowledgeable and bookish I was. Noting that Valentin had taken my cue (light godmod granted by user), I immediately reread the small handwritten notes on the borders of the pages. Notes that I had painstakingly written and small notations on the etymology of the spell, the best way to cast it, and how to get a little more bang for your buck when implementing its use.

“There it is. Keep it open for me while I read the sidenotes. This spell can be really powerful if cast correctly.” So saying, I withdrew my pale wand with its sapphire blue handle and traced the sigil of the spell in the air with a minor flare of additional medicinal efficacies that I had noted through trial and error. This was combined with an incantation of; “Episkey.”, in which a signature annunciation and recital was clear. Sometimes it wasn’t just how you produced the wand movement, but also by how you pronounced the spell verbally that seemed to do the trick in making a healing spell just a tad more efficient than it already was.

Hopefully it would be enough for Feliciano. I was taking a rather large risk by simultaneously trying to output as much healing as possible and not overestimating my admittedly spotty ability to cast spells.

Action: Performing (Muggle) Stabilization on Felix (Healing Sage?)

-- IF the Above Action is not Valid, Then --

Casting Episkey When x=5 on Felix

Reducio

Stats:

Ω Stamina 9 | Evasion 7 | Strength 15 Ω
Ω Accuracy 15 | Wisdom 9 | ArcPower 0 Ω

Abilities:

Ω Obnoxiously Strong | Perfectionist I | Martial Artist | Healing Sage I Ω

Still, the board would not afford her the opportunity to make a significant strike again. It was unfortunate. For having contributed so little in the early stages of the game, the little Fishlet desperately wanted to catch hold again of that pivotal moment where she'd inflicted a decisive blow. That moment simply would not come again, however; no matter how much she might have desired to prove herself. And she would take that in stride. One did not the team make, afterall, at the rest of her comrades were moving in on their opponents. Given previous clashes, they had the ability to inflict even greater effect than she.

It wasn't a bad thing to stand on the outskirts and support, she would remind herself. Soon enough, shields would spring to life again to engulf both champion and Johannes. Not a moment too soon, either, as Yefim absorbed what looked like a rather staggering blow. Still, for whatever he received, he delivered back tenfold. In an instant, the opposing champion would fall, the game would end, and they would be left free to move about the board. Only then would Greta really absorb the chaos that had unfolded during the match. The changes that had overcome some of her teammates to which she had been blinded in the commotion.

"Koby!" The downed form of Felix would grab at her attention, colour draining from the already pale face as Greta very nearly tripped on the hem of her white robes in her haste to get to the sour-faced leather-loving would-be corpse. Worry clouded her expression, particularly with the way their beloved Britalian poured over the figure. "Roo!" Plight infected the call as she closed the distance, bouncing her gaze between Romeo and the felled Felix. "Is he okay?" She fell to her knees beside him, the massive tome from the game dropped to the ground in favour of fishing for her wand. "Koby, please... please be okay..."

Action: Attempting to cast Reparifors on Felix

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