2026.11.02 - Nobody Takes the Prince of Altur

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Nobody Takes the Prince of Altur
Location:
Type:
Emitter:
Sora
NPCs:
Factions:
Players:
N/A


The Organization makes their opening move, capturing Prince Quinn of Altur.



Musical Cue: "Kefka's Theme" by Nobuo Uematsu

Colorful banners snap and billow in the wind, and bright pavilions dot the grassy expanse of the Great Rambling Plain, just south of the grand Kingdom of Altur. Contestants from throughout the region have gathered to participate in an athletic competition, held in the spirit of international cooperation. Representatives from Sylvania and Omenaru are in attendance, as well as promising representatives of the more distant outlying kingdoms of Undermount and Hyrule, caravans from Halvington, and even the Kingdom of Lyne sent a small, token contingent. The previous day's archery tournament ended with a Sylvanian win, as predicted, and later in the week would come the great joust and melee. This day had been the acrobatics event, and as predicted, the star of the show was none other than Prince Quinn Brightheart of Altur. The popular, handsome prince had dazzled the crowds with his agility and grace, though he had refused to accept any awards, making a short speech that the kingdom hosting the event should be gracious and that he needed no prize.

Now comes the grand procession, a parade of dancers and acrobats making their way across the great plain, to where a shrine has been raised to the ideals of the Brilliant Cosmenia, representing light and goodwill. The younger prince of Altur, Rann Brightheart, leads a column of mounted knights in gleaming plate armor after them, shining lances held high, and the crowds follow along. Before the shrine can be reached, though, a shrill laugh pieces the air, echoing across the field from an unseen source:

"Uwee, hee, hee!"

Then, as the procession halts and confused participants begin to look around for the source of sound, a shrill voice rings out across the scene: "Meltdown!"

The wind abruptly shifts, like a blast furnace had opened nearby -- a scorching gale sweeping in, carrying first embers, then flames, as a churning blast of heat surges throughout the area, striking anyone and anything nearby, and silhouetted against the wall of fire, a slender figure kicks up his heels, dancing and spinning while holding up the corners of his long coat like the hem of a dancer's ballgown.

The captain of the knights shouts, "Defensive lines! Bring up the mages, water and ice first! Healers to ready!"

The defenders leap into action, the injured are carried to safety, and the line of knights charges toward the strange figure, cavorting amongst the flames--and that's when the slithering, silvery-white shapes whirl through the air, dozens of them, to fling themselves to the ground, warping into a mockery of human shape. Many are human-sized, while some take on forms like massive horses pulling chariots, forming a counter-charge. Then the clash, a pitched battle, chaos. Spells erupt -- steel rings. One of the chariots bursts through the flames, a lithe figure in a black coat riding in it, one hand raised in salute to the onlookers. His face, painted like a clown, leers in a mocking grin as he surges past, and much of the column of knights breaks away to give chase, marking him as the biggest threat. Prince Rann leads a charge against the Nobody foot soldiers. All is chaos.

Most of the contestants by now have broken and run, many aiding civilians in escaping. Among the swiftest is crown Prince Quinn, who's just lifted a scruffy dog into the back of a wagon, reuniting the creature with its family, and calls to the driver.

"Back to the city at once! The guard will deal with the attacker, but these people will be safer in Altur," Quinn says, and as the cart pulls away, he turns to look back, scanning the scene for anyone else in need. That's when the air behind him ripples with shadow, a dark corridor opening, and another slender, hooded figure in a black coat appears.

"Your pardon, my dear prince," the figure says, words rolling smoothly from a sultry voice, "but I'm afraid I must insist on the pleasure of your company." The figure lays a hand on Quinn's shoulder, and the golden-haired prince has just enough time to turn in surprise -- and the dark corridor ripples again, both of them gone.

Within the hour, the defenders have driven back the Nobodies and gotten the vulnerable onlookers to safety. The fires have been put out, and calm is restored. Prince Rann, blistered from spell and bruised from battle, turns away from conferring with the knight-captain, only for a little girl and her dog to rush up to him.

"Prince Rann!" the child calls out tearfully, one small hand clutching anxiously at her dog's fur. "They took him! The one in black, they took Prince Quinn!" The prince's expression is grim as the girl tells of his older brother's kidnapping, and a new alarm is sounded. Rann departs at once to inform his father. A council will soon be called, and aid will be sought. As he strides away, the young prince swears on his honor and his life that he will not rest -- not until his brother is brought home safely.

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