In this world, Magic is Everything. All people, all races, are granted with the power to perform mystical and magical feats via grimories, mystical tomes granted to each and every child on their 15th birthday. Those blessed by the mana can have their names written down in legend.
Shattered Grimoires is the work of the mind(s) of Ardere & Shattered Grimoire's staff. All characters and content are copyright their creators, and may not be replicated without their creators' permission. Black Clover is owned by Yuki Tabata and published by Viz Shonen Jump. All images belong to their original owners. The theme you are currently viewing was made by Eliza of ElizaCodes exclusively for Shattered Grimoires.
The rogue refuge wasn't any particular place, it was a rhyme without a reason. Whereas Kikka was a town, a refuge could open up on the most unlikely of places. The place wasn't luxurious, nor was it particularly run down. There were no roaches or rats but the decor was a little wanting, the tapestries were tattered, the floorboards splintered. Connor noticed the boarded windows but felt as though it was okay. The leader of the Eclipse Ravens; elusive and enigmatic as she was, was certainly a character of little recourse. He opened his Grimoire and checked the ledger, a few spells and some text he couldn’t read stared back at him, nothing new. Looking around at his drab surroundings Connor surrendered himself into a lack of lucidity, a chance to meet the leader was not something one came by often. Something one didn’t take too lightly was an inquisition, so, rather than be inquisitive, he resigned to be; at the very least, curious. Connor wore a plain white T-shirt and jeans, accessories were not particularly his persuasion but he wore a gold ring on his forefinger. His expression was vague and alert, he was not one to idle in a random place but as it were, it was as remote as it could be. He sat patiently awaiting his leader.
Post by Jorah Von Shurke on Jan 26, 2022 14:32:56 GMT -5
”Ya know my pale friend…if you continue to look expectant like that you will end up turning invisible…hell I even thought you might have been a really well made statue at first.” Jorah said to Connor as he took a seat at a table and ordered an ale with a snap of his fingers…hell this place was one he frequented often when he came to this shit hole. ”What are you waiting for anyway? Did you get in trouble with those lowlife thugs again like back in Kikka or is it someone new…a flame perhaps?” Jorah was quite inquisitive and active…which was really just his normal act anyway. He waited for an answer as the drink was set in front of him.
Whistling would echo inside the small bathroom, leaking outside through the thin, wooden walls.
The mercury mage and resident rogue Mania once more found himself within The Rogue Refuge. Traveling from Sosshi with Connor had been one filled with odd conversation, Mania would think as he finished using the restroom inside the shoddy, downtrodden pub. Connor and Mania had run into one another by chance, taking work from the same employer. Mania through his various sources had heard whispers through the grapevine that Veldora was assembling the flock. It had been a short time since Mania last stood amongst the Eclipse Raven operatives, but he was most curious about the goals and ideals that the enigmatic leader possessed.
After washing his hand's Mania would step out, his whistling stopping as he noticed Jorah was the next to join himself and Connor. Seeing the gentleman rogue had resurfaced some feelings Mania had buried when he heard the news of Yemir's passing. They say she went quietly in her sleep with no pain, but it was never a good thing when someone you know died. Mania was sure Jorah had knowledge of what happened to Yemir who after she failed to make it back to the Eclipse Raven meeting. The usually chameleon smile Mania wore was replaced with one that was much more somber, sadness bubbling to a point of boiling within his soft hazel eyes.
"Hey Jorah good to see ya again. How about we order around on you for Yemir - she deserves a toast in her name~"
Mania would say as he took a seat beside Connor and hailed the waitress for a round of ale.
"She was a good girl and a damned good rogue!"
Mania spoke aloud, already inebriated from the drinks he shared with Connor earlier. The rogue didn't find out about Yemir's death until their travel back to The Rogue's Refuge and though he had shelved the sadness within his heart during the journey, Mania couldn't hold it in any longer. "Ya know Jorah, it should have been me to grab that guard solo during our gig." Mania was feeling guilty about hiding his talent for sensory magic. He could have easily done what Yemir had done. Her head injury was probably received at that moment he thought. She was fine until she had come back, Why didn't he notice? Mania would hang his head low, ruminating in self-pity and sadness before he peered up through his bang.
The waitress had returned with a few pints of ale to which Mania took one and held it high.
Jorah was as jovial as usual, Connor thought nothing of it; he was a good bloke, after all he was as he was. Aside from his criteria for work Connor held him in high esteem. The man’s demeanour was of a solid consistency in an intangible world that Connor often disassociated from. Although Connor was aware of Jorah’s presence, he stirred little from his otherwise focused expression, Jorah’s words sinking into the dense criteria of things Connor prioritised to require a response almost immediately. Having learnt many things when joining the Eclipse Ravens, Connor felt almost overloaded by the salacious details that numbed his otherwise ever-present perception. Demons and devils roamed the land, the military that served and protected the lands of Clover were corrupt, the citizens kept dim. Reminiscing on a bygone era, a time prior to his life as rogue, it was simpler then. His family in good stead, his name well-known, and future prospects for a life of nobility, all of these things were robbed from him. The circumstances alluding to this fall from grace were not something he knew much about, youth came with its naivety and he was jo exception. When Jorah had finished speaking, Connor shrugged and quite clearly said, “I figured that if enough of us were in one place, something was bound to occur.”
Although Mania had opted to imbibe an alcoholic libation, Connor instead garnered the waitresses attention and asked for water using the pseudonym for a three-part cut. The nature of this con was simple. Someone offered to pay for your drinks, not wanting to be rude by refusing, you accept their proposal. When you order, choose an inexpensive fortified wine, often by the name of ’Raislin’ or potentially something made up. The beverage is water, for those rogues that like to keep their edge while working, the money for the drink is split between the waitress, the house, and of course the person who ordered it. It was usually a neat sum of money. Connor sipped his tepid water briskly but did not refuse the ale that Mania had paid for. A round for Yemir, a woman that Connor hadn’t know. When Mania toasted her, Connor couldn’t understand his language. Connor offered his own toast, in a language that was no more familiar than the drink he was now holding. One he was very well acquainted with, it tasted bitter. To forget something sweet. ”To good friends that got worse than they deserve.”
Post by Ryoshi Miten on Jan 30, 2022 5:30:24 GMT -5
Ryoshi yawned as he roamed around the rogues Refuge with a rather bored look on his face, he had decided to stop here while on his search for Aelia since his trail had gone cold again much to his displeasure. The aura mage knew that there were no standing orders from their new boss yet so he had little to do other then to lay low and avoid trouble but that didn't mean he couldn't make plans while he waited, as he entered the local bar he saw a few familiar faces and he smirked as he approached. Once he was within hearing distance he spoke at Connor as he passed by.”seems this place is more popular then I thought, I trust you've stayed out of trouble since last we met ?” he inquired at Connor as he moved to the bar and ordered a glass of whiskey before doing what he always did and sniffed very lightly to check for poison before he took a sip and glanced at the other two who were in at the table as well.
“i don't think I got a chance to meet you two gentleman at our last encounter I'm Ryuuma a pleasure to make your acquaintance” he said with a small smile and a little bow of his head.while he acted all pleasant and amiable the aura mage was already taking mental notes on the two and at the moment only the one called Jorah if he heard right was on his radar in terms of a threat, not to say that he didn't think the other two were but something about the white haired rogue had Ryoshi wary but he couldn't say what. When Mania suggested a toast to a fallen rogue named Yemir Ryoshi just nodded but internally he could only scoff.'she must not have been a good rogue if she is already dead and buried but it is expected for amateurs to fail and fall' he thought maliciously as he took another sip of his alcohol pacing himself so he didn't get too drunk if he got buzzed at all.
Trouble was not the word Connor would use when he saw Ryoshi Miten, never formally introduced, thry had been acquainted when joining the ravens. The whisky was excellent as per usual, Connor sipped tepidly on his water which had gotten to room temperature. Wine bottles lined the walls, shot glasses askew on the bench. Waiters weren’t hired, and people served themselves. What was here was here before they came but not after. Armour seemed like a wise purchase at the time, Connor reasoned he wouldn’t be stabbed anytime soon. Presumptions were ugly things that lead to disappointment, seldom surprised he never expected little of those around him. The scout was only as good as perceived, never leading them one way or another or casting a glance in any of their directions. Now was a grace period between what they perceived to be a sentimental next step for the ragged crew, and a leap into the unknown that being Eclipse Ravens meant. What it would entail? We’re the rewards worth the risk? At least meeting their illustrious leader would shine some clarity upon the subjects that made Connor curious as to why he came. “I guess we wait for The Leader to wonder why we are all here sitting on our asses.” Feeling dryly spry in his own lack of courtesy, not all of those that had been enlisted had arrived, but the ones that had were at least lively companions. Interestingly he hadn’t felt as though diligence had been taken in this endeavour, many of them being quite well known for their deeds by now. If she wanted circumspect thieves, she hadn’t gotten them. Perhaps the kingdom needed faces for the dastardly deeds that freed them from the security of their birdcage lives. The noble regions were lined with targets and their backs were considered Bull’s eyes. It shook his nerves sometimes when he thought of the consequences of taking a name, difficulty did not explain his daily lifestyle but luxury wasn’t among the choices either. Guilty was a label, one that collared his and his compatriot’s shirts. Their bracelets were iron manacles, earrings made of twine. Connor couldn’t help but imagine Jorah, not swinging his legs jovially around the corner like a man stealing a cheese wheel. His thoughts lingered on Mania not batting an eye lash over the matter as well. Connor’s life would prolong dark deeds done diligently, prior preparations and plannings preventing piss poor performances. These talents were one of many. Easily more qualified men could have survived initiation, but few of them were here right now. It wasn’t the easiest thing to quantify how uneasy Connor swore he felt, how he presented himself to her was important, and first impressions were simply the most satisfying way to comport himself. If he could have dressed more nicely, he may have; but he did not, for nothing short of what he wore would have been sacrilegious. Cotton, wool, and what ever they make shoes out of next door from the neighbours.
