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.
Coming from the highest perches in all of Mandrenke, the Skrýtinn are one of the most repulsive species to be found on all the islands. Having no particular natural enemy and eating just about anything, the only creatures they don't attack for food are the Ekhidnae, the Giants and the Rimkvarda. Everything else is considered prey. So whenever a new clutch hatches and grows to the size of the average adolescent, they are taken out hunting to the island of Grýnd, actively going after the Villtsung as they are the smallest and youngest of the races. As a magic knight, it is up to you to aid the Villtsung and see to it that they'll survive, even if they themselves might not even want your help or respond in a thankful manner.
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[attr="class","shadowsSub"]Details
Maximum Number of Players: 3 [break]Minimum Word Count: 3500 [break]Location: The Settlements [break]Special Requirements: Seeing as how the goals of these winged monsters are simple, to kill as many as they can and drag their corpses away with them for food and building materials, your goal is to keep this from happening by making sure the civilians are safe and the attackers meet a timely end. Do not go easy on them, mercy is not something they can grasp or wrap their heads around.
[attr="class","shadowsSub"]NPC Information
What NPCs are in this mission? Please fill out the template for any notable NPCs. While those you have to socially interact with during the mission are not required, any enemy that is presented in the mission must be listed here.
Health Limit: Senior [break]Mana Skin: Intermediate [break]Physical Speed: 12 m/s [break]Physical Damage: Senior [break]Magic Element and Types: Feather | Attack Creation [break]Combat Style: The Skrýtinn fly around their enemies, circling them in larger numbers and attacking them from the back and sides. Using their sharp talons to inflict flesh wounds, they can also release a volley of sharp and thick arrows that can penetrate armor and shatter bone. All things considered, they are smart hunters that can be tough to take down. [break]Additional Information: Whenever a new clutch of Skrýtinn is ready to go for their first hunt, it is common for them to harass the Villtsung, what with them being the youngest and smallest of the species found on the islands. Learning how to go about killing and collecting their prey, a Skrýtinn on the Villtsung is an annual thing, though no one knows exactly when it is going to happen due.
Health Limit: Grand [break]Mana Skin: Senior [break]Physical Speed: 15 m/s [break]Physical Damage: Grand [break]Magic Element and Types: Feather | Attack Creation [break]Combat Style: The Skrýtinn fly around their enemies, circling them in larger numbers and attacking them from the back and sides. Using their sharp talons to inflict flesh wounds, they can also release a volley of sharp and thick arrows that can penetrate armor and shatter bone. All things considered, they are smart hunters that can be tough to take down. [break]Additional Information: Whenever a new clutch of Skrýtinn is ready to go for their first hunt, it is common for them to harass the Villtsung, what with them being the youngest and smallest of the species found on the islands. Learning how to go about killing and collecting their prey, a Skrýtinn on the Villtsung is an annual thing, though no one knows exactly when it is going to happen due. This particular kind goes along with the new clutch to teach them how to hunt more effectively.
How things managed to get traced back to him was anyone’s guess, though the young man was always able to come up with a few ideas as to why things were as they were. Right now however, he didn’t much care, as he was more or less on the anxious side of things. For some reason or the other, when a very odd request had come in for aid from beyond the seas, this mission had found its way into his lap. To his knowledge, there was no one here that was aware of the fact that he had been living on Skjaergard for quite some time as a slave. Between him and Griswold, nobody could possibly have figured that out unless they had been present at the time when he had regained his freedom. Maybe he was just overreacting, maybe no one knew that he had any kind of history with the island and its native inhabitants.
Maybe the sole reason why he had been sent out there now was because he had recently managed to climb to the rank of 5th grade senior knight within the squad, making him the second highest ranking member after captain Nico. The more he thought about it, the more he felt reassured that that was more than likely the only reason why he was being sent out there now. So, as he dressed himself to get sent out, he also made sure to pack a few things that might allow him to spend the night out there. Truth be told, for someone like him, spending the night somewhere out in the settlements inside of a tavern or sleeping outdoors would be just about the same level of safe. Since over ninety percent of the island was covered in the massive briny swamplands known as Dagmar’s mire, there were a lot of corpse eaters and other ‘natural’ threats native to the island.
That said, there were still plenty of natives on Skjaergard that did not give a damn about the land of Clover and still considered them as being nothing more than fertile land ripe for raiding and pillaging. Though they would never be able to beat the land of Clover if it came to an all out war, given how very little magic there was to be found on the island of Grýnd, they were incredibly formidable when it came to hit and run situations along the lines of pillaging. One might even say that they were uncontested in this area. Still, as part of the terms of a peace between the two kingdoms, in exchange for the ban on raiding, the lands of Grýnd were to be protected by the kingdom’s knights should the request be made. Fortunately, the amount of requests that came in were few and far between as the islanders were usually far too proud to let others handle their problems for them.
What exactly had changed in this particular case was still unknown to the ashen haired boy, though he would undoubtedly figure all of that out soon enough. For cases such as these, there was always someone who had been to the islands, a man that had been part of the initial expedition that had ventured out towards them several years ago. Being the only way of quickly traveling from Clover to Grýnd, the spatial mage did not get a whole lot of work out of it, but was called upon specifically for these unique situations. Fully stocked up on all he would need to, in every sense of the word, ‘survive’ the night on the island, the boy arrived at the agreed upon location. From there, a gateway was established that allowed Gawain to walk straight through. Where he had still stood on the paved stone floors of the royal capital one second, he felt his boots land on a familiar dirt road but a second later.
Stating that a portal would be opened again in this same location in twenty four hours, the boy was quite well aware of the fact that there was no way for him to contact the continent or the other magic knights from this point on. In a way, that made this whole situation ten times more dangerous, though that was likely why the captain had given this job to nobody other than him. Taking a deep breath as the portal closed behind him, he raised his head as he began following the dirt road all the way to the end. He knew that by the end of this path, he would reach port Njord, the location where he had been locked up and treated no better than an animal for several years. It was the place where the man that had at some point bought him and his mother likely still lived to this day. The more he thought about potentially running into him, the more he began wondering about what he might do to him.
Even though he was here as a magic knight and he had to think about how his actions might reflect upon the country he for all intents and purposes served, there was no denying the sheer amount of hatred the boy held in his heart. Hatred that had been born from this man’s actions, the slaver that had caused the death of his mother, among various others he had treated as nothing more than trash to be discarded at his whims. Though maybe it was giving the man too much credit, there was a very big chance that the way he had treated the young man was the reason why he had so little regard for the value of life in the villainous element. The moment he learned someone was a murderer or saw that someone murdered someone in front of him, his treatment of them always took a turn quickly.
And while he would not outright murder someone, he had trouble hiding the fact that their pain amused him a good deal. Whatever the case might be, for the time being, he would do his best not to get close to his old lodgings, instead just heading straight towards the person that had requested the aid of the kingdom. If he could get through this mission quickly, maybe he would even be able to get back home without potentially compromising the security of the treaty between Skjaergard and Clover. Maintaining a steady pace and a stoic expression as he wandered past familiar faces from his past, it didn’t take him long to reach the docks themselves. The road there was equally as familiar after all. Setting foot onto the docks, it didn’t take long before the man he had been looking for came up to him. He stood out quite a bit as a knight, and a very young one at that.
At first, the man did not think a whole lot of him, finding it a disgrace that the kingdom sent a child to help him out. But then, Gawain noticed a certain glint in the man’s eye that gave away the fact that this man remembered something, something about him. For a time, his antics had been quite well known in this part, as the amount of supposed kills he had to his name were quite numerous. Luckily, only the marshes themselves held the answers as to how many lives he had taken, and the marshes didn’t talk. Quickly treating Gawain as he wished to be treated, with a modicum of respect, he doubted that it was because of the magic knight mantle he wore. But that was alright. Respect was respect, and that was the very thing that would get him that much closer to completing this mission. Once the man started spilling the beans, Gawain quickly forgot about the amount of eyes that were on him at this point.
Knowing that one of the most direct sources of food for the Villtsung came directly from the large amount of fishermen on and around the island, stories about adolescent Skrýtinn attacking these same people made him understand why the knights had been called. Sure, the Villtsung had capable warriors with magically enhanced swords, axes, spears and bows, though these winged pests were incredibly quick and nimble, possessing talons that could easily rip a fully armored adult man’s throat out in passing. As much as Gawain did not care for the fate of these people in general, part of it was also because of their customs, with most of that disdain hailing from a single person. Beyond that man and a select few others, none of these people had truly done anything that wronged him directly or indirectly, so refusing this sort of request was not something he could just do. Both out of personal considerations and out of respect to the magic knight squads as a whole.
Receiving directions as to where these attacks were taking place the most frequently, Gawain remembered quite well the tall cliffs of the region that might make it easy for the winged creatures to hide out and bide their time for the next attack on unsuspecting fishermen. Heading out with due haste, the boy traversed half the island rather quickly, sticking to the coastline and remaining as far away from the mire as he possibly could. It would have saved him some time to cross straight through that godforsaken place, that much he knew for a fact, though he also knew that doing so would bring back even more ghastly sights and gruesome memories that he would prefer remained buried along with the past. When he reached the area along the coast where the fishermen were supposedly situated, it seemed that he might have even arrived too late to stop any potential attacks from happening. For as it turned out, one was already well under way.
Turning his stride into a sprint, the boy did a quick head count, counting three young Skrýtinn accompanied by one adult. In that same moment, he also took notice of the five fishermen that were fighting and running for their lives, using axes and knives, as well as their fishing poles to hold the winged pests off. Even with his limited magical sensory capabilities, Gawain could tell quite easily that these weapons were not imbued with any kind of magic as they did not belong to the raiding class of the community. It was odd that there people were not held in higher regard, as they were the only ones keeping the majority of the island from starving while the raiding parties were away for weeks. Truthfully, as he ran towards the men in an attempt at saving them, he saw flashes of the past, images and visions of the day when the Villtsung had come for him and his family.
He saw how his father tried to hold the superior foes at bay as his grandfather bled out. He saw the large stature of the man that had knocked him unconscious so that he could be prepared for transport more easily. Even though these men were Villtsung, their helplessness reminded him of the people who had made up his family, friends and acquaintances. People who also lived in a fishing community very much like this, but even more tightly knit. Starting to run even faster as he saw one of the Skrýtinn was about to rend flesh with their sharp talons, he noticed that it was one of the smaller ones. As a matter of fact, the smaller ones seemed to be the only ones that really did any of the attacking while the larger one was just watching. This was normal though. As a former islander himself, he knew that at certain times of year, when a new batch of the winged monsters was born on the island right next to this one, that an adult would take the young hunting.
Among the islanders, between the giants, the ekhidnae and the corpse eaters, the Villtsung were by far the smallest beings that called the islands home, making them into easy prey for the young Skrýtinn. That was, unless they were carrying magically imbued weapons such as the raiders. But that was why the young were accompanied by an adult, instructing them on how best to strike and who best to strike and providing support when needed. Before the talons of the winged creature could land on their target, a wind of blade through the space between them, tearing the whole leg clean off with barely any resistance. As blood sprayed in all directions due to the amount of veins that were laid open, the young bird creature screeched loudly, warning the others that there was trouble afoot. Allowing the fishermen the chance to put some distance between themselves and this place, Gawain was determined to get rid of this problem by his lonesome.
Had there been more, this might have even been troublesome, though that was not the case. Back on Cloverian soil, there were very few monsters that were anywhere near as destructive and horrible for their own environment as the Skrýtinn were, so there was nothing that could prepare your average magic knight for this kind of assault. But Gawain had heard the stories of these creatures many times from the ‘brave’ raiders that boasted about their kills whenever they encountered these creatures, about their methodology and their weaknesses. Being able to fly was obviously a major boon when dealing with landlocked creatures and humans, though it would not protect them from someone who could quite frankly control the air itself and wield it as a weapon. Watching closely as the injured creature continued to fly up as if seeing whether the elder had indeed seen what had happened, a series of chitters and screeches was exchanged.
Moments later, the whole flock of four seemed to agree that the best course of action was to assault the young magic knight from multiple angles at the same time. Attacking him from multiple angles as they swooped around him with their large wings, though remaining at a reasonable distance so as to not make themselves an easy target for a single spell to take them all out at once, they were becoming a proper nuisance. But that was in and of itself nothing Gawain couldn’t handle. Their attempt, admirable and clever as it was might work on the majority of people, but Gawain wasn’t the majority of people. He was one who stood at the pinnacle of awareness, possessing a grade of Ki that was beyond that of every single person he had ever met, and he had met Archmages that were a lot more powerful than he was. With that level of environmental awareness keeping the gaps in his defenses to a minimum, there was nothing these creatures could attempt that would land, not without sacrificing a limb in the process.
Name of Spell: Slice Elemental Type: Air Pressure Rank & Spell Type: Intermediate | Attack Creation | Sensory (Homing) Range & Speed: 40m | 25 m/s Mana Cost: 20 | 10 Stats Effected: - Applicable Perks: Overpowered | Quick Shot Description: Extending and pushing his right index and middle finger together before flicking them upward in order to activate the spell, a crescent blade of wind roughly five centimeters thick and three meters long is fired into the desired direction, following directly up on this motion. The attack itself is non-lethal, unless direct contact to one's vitals is established, as well as causing painful cuts and bruises on people and breaking most unreinforced walls, dealing Intermediate rank damage. In addition, the accuracy and chance to hit can be further improved by utilizing Homing rules, including following the target in adherence to those same rules. The crescent blade follows the target that was initially pointed at until it hits, runs out of space or hits another object. To those without at least 20 sensory, this spell will be invisible, appearing as a wispy green crescent blade to others.
With a quick weaving of hands and gestures, Gawain held his ground as he focused his Ki on his direct surroundings, through which he could tell that the fishermen had all moved out of it. This meant that they had all managed to at least get to a safe distance. Or rather, a ‘safer’ distance. Releasing another blade of air, he maintained a focused target, causing the blade to keep chasing it around. For as long as the creature remained within his area of control, the only way to get out of it was to get hit, which seemed like it would not be the best possible alternative judging by what a similar blade had done to one of their talons. But since Gawain wasn’t a fool, he wouldn’t just let this go by letting a singular blade do all of the work, nor did he plan on letting the other Skrýtinn go about their harassment in peace.
No, he had been practicing for situations such as this where multiple threats might pose a problem for him. Locking their signatures in his mind, he managed to release three more blades, hitting his current limit of four in total. Whether luck was on his side or not, the fact that he could produce and maintain a blade for each of the creatures spoke volumes, and worked wonders for his own self-esteem. Adding to his luck in a strange manner was the fact that these creatures seemed to possess a mana skin similar to that which the mages in Clover could produce, this being one of the likely reasons why the warriors among the Villtsung enhanced their weaponry with magic just to stand a chance. While it made bringing them down that much more difficult, them literally being coated in a thin protective layer of mana made it more plausible for him to follow them and keep them targeted by the wind blades.
Due to the sheer speed by which these blades moved, it wasn’t long before one of them hit their first target. Cutting deep into the creature, he could tell that a solid portion of the actual damage was absorbed by the mana skin, though removing the protective layer in the process. This told him that the lesser pests could only take a certain amount of damage, an amount he could now calculate for the remainder of the fight. Also taking the amount of physical damage the creature took as it fell to the ground with a large wound across its back, he deduced that it would only take a little more to really put it down for good. With one of the creatures grounded, this allowed him to focus on the others. Moving aside ever so slightly as a means of evading one of the others who tried to attack a back which they believed was exposed, one could almost see the visible confusion on its face.
That was, before the second blade managed to find its target. Having already lost a talon before, stripping it of its protective mana in the process, instead of just leaving a deep cut as with the other, this particular Skrýtinn was cut into two halves that kept their forward motion as they both just collapsed into the shallow coastal waters. Now capable of following the remaining two with his full attention as he doubted the downed one would pose much of a threat any time soon, he turned around and began focusing what remained with his eyes as well as his Ki. Holding out his hands and directing his blades like a conductor instructing his orchestra, he could almost hear the music in the back of his mind as he struck the two remaining creatures with both blades at roughly the same time. Severing the wing off of one of the lesser ones, the elder was struck from the air for a moment, but regained its momentum and continued to fly moments before it hit the ground.
It was more durable, more resilient to damage, as was to be expected of a species as determined to cause trouble as the Skrýtinn. Watching Gawain from a safe distance, the creature seemed to want to wait for a chance to strike, calling for its lessers to get back up and aid in the fight. When they all seemed to have trouble getting up, one having its back carved open and the other being down a whole wing, the third being in two halves feeding the fishes would likely offer the least help of all. But that was when Gawain had an idea. An awfully brutal and ruthless one, but an idea none the less. Walking over to the one that had its wing torn off, he kept his Ki locked on the elder while moving up, kicking the younger over so he could get on its back before snapping its neck like a twig. As he let go, the head hit the sandy beach floor like a lifeless doll.
Name of Spell: Reap Elemental Type: Air Pressure Rank & Spell Type: Senior | Attack Creation | Sensory (Homing) Range & Speed: 80m | 45 m/s Mana Cost: 30 | 15 Stats Effected: - Applicable Perks: Overpowered | Quick Shot Description: Extending and pushing his right index and middle finger together before flicking them upward in order to activate the spell, a crescent blade of rapidly spinning wind roughly five centimeters thick and six meters long is fired into the desired direction, following directly up on this motion. The attack itself is lethal on direct hits, capable of leaving deep cuts and lacerations, broken bones and breaking most structures, dealing Senior rank damage. For every 30 Control, an additional shot can be fired. In addition, the accuracy and chance to hit can be further improved by utilizing Homing rules, including following the target in adherence to those same rules. The crescent blade follows the target that was initially pointed at until it hits, runs out of space or hits another object. To those without at least 30 sensory, this spell will be invisible, appearing as a wispy green circular blades to others.
Almost howling with rage, the older Skrýtinn got a little bit closer, almost being consumed by anger, though still holding on to some shreds of sensibility. It knew that if it went in now, it would need to come up with a very solid means of attack, or the human boy would make things very difficult for him. In that same regard, Gawain knew that he had to keep his figurative ‘trigger finger’ ready to strike in a moment’s notice, given how fast an adult Skrýtinn could move. Even though its mana skin was gone, it could still tank a good deal of damage as it seemed neither tired nor even the slightest bit worn down. Believing the only way to get it to really come in for the kill was to do the remaining youngling in the same way he had done the other. Wandering towards it, looking at the wound on its back, the creature already lay flat on its belly.
Putting the weight of his own body on top of its back as he stomped down on it with his boots, the elder began raging once more. Still it held its distance, still it kept itself contained. However, when it noticed Gawain’s hands reaching for it’s neck, it dashed forward, cutting through the air like a hot knife through butter. It was going to save its young if it could. And maybe it could have, had the boy truly intended to break this one’s neck. What he had done instead however was reach towards its neck, making one hand into a fist and the other into a seal while merely pretending to go for an odd grip. Once the creature began its mad dash towards him, Gawain dove backwards, dropping his body into the wet sand as he pointed his closed fist towards the elder. As he opened up his fist, an invisible grid of compressed air shot forth from the palm of his hand, cutting both the downed youngling and the enraged elder into various tiny blocks of flesh that littered the beach.
In an instant, the fight was over and done, the Skrýtinn all defeated. Defeated perhaps being a clean way of saying they had all been butchered utterly and completely. Looking around at the carnage, the boy had no doubt that the remains would be eaten by the local wildlife soon enough, if not used by the fishermen for bait and other such tools. The Skrýtinn were covered in feathers they could use for their lures after all, while the tiny blocks of meat would do wonders for catching big, predatory fish with lots of meat on their bones. With the pests dead and no one to fly back to the nest, there was a chance that it would be a good amount of time before the next batch of Skrýtinn might try again. For now though, Gawain was going to head on back to Port Njord to inform people that the threat had been dealt with.
Name of Spell: Grid Elemental Type: Air Pressure Rank & Spell Type: Grand | Attack Creation | Sensory (Homing) Range & Speed: 150m | 85 m/s Mana Cost: 50 | 25 Stats Effected: +12 Power Applicable Perks: Overpowered | Quick Shot | Battle Knight Description: By pointing his right fist at a chosen target or direction while simultaneously forming the half-dragon seal with his left hand, a grid-shaped pattern of air pressure magic will rapidly form right in front of his right fist. When he opens up his fist, the grid will launch forward instantly, slicing through buildings and obstacles in its path and leaving it in the shape of cubic bits and pieces of roughly equal size, leaving deep lacerations and cuts and being potentially lethal on a direct hit. For every 50 Control, an additional shot can be fired. In addition, the accuracy and chance to hit can be further improved by utilizing Homing rules, including following the target in adherence to those same rules. The square-shaped grid is roughly 12 meters wide, being invisible to those without at least 50 Sensory, appearing as a wispy green grid to others.
