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  #1  
Old 12-18-2015
Kasso's Avatar
Kasso Kasso is offline
Legendary Hero
 
Join Date: Feb 2007
Location: British Columbia
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Departure

“I’ll join you.” The burns and cuts which gouged deep into her flesh did nothing to dim her resolve. She looked upon Greagrios with all of the righteous fury of a woman ready to commit herself to battle with an impossible enemy. Her silver armor was smattered with blood, her own and the aged blood of the dead and deathless. Her cloak singed and burned from unholy spell and fire. She was worn, but far from through.

But he looked to her and shook his head. “No child, take after them… look after Thresh.” Her eyes narrowed and she moved to step beyond him anyways. “… Tell her, and Nora both that I am proud of what they have accomplished.” She paused a moment, the golden glow of her eyes caught on to them, only faintly outlined by the whites of her eyes. The grip upon her blade tightened a moment as she slowly took a step down the blackened staircase. “… Good luck.” She muttered to him, even as he turned to the door, and she descended the case without further word, leaving him to his sacrifice.


A brief flash, and it was done, the Ley was repaired, the Black Hand’s source of mobility and prominence over the valley shattered. In the next instant, their collective stood within a swamp, knee deep in the muck with the cool, wet air kissing their still open wounds. The Aasimar looked around and all she could recognize was death, bodies piled upon bodies of the triad, as she whirled around they only seemed to grow higher, higher… until she was being pressed from all sides by the shadows of shimmering plate and the lifeless, cold touch of the dead…

~
She opened her eyes with a start, quickly pulling herself up to catch her breath, looking about the room she found herself surrounded by familiar environs. Her armor was set upon a stand mere feet from her bed, both of her swords and shield leaned against her nightstand, atop of which was a bubbly glass of water. Moonlight filtered in through the window, the sound of the distant ocean still audible over what would become the bustle of merchants and refugee’s alike chattering in the streets.

Closing her eyes a moment, she shook her head free from the nightmare, and slowly rose from her bed, smoothing out her night gown before grabbing her thick tantran robes to hug around her form to keep back the night’s cold.

A wave of her hand and the candle upon the desk lit, illuminating a stack of half-completed letters, with one finished copy set aside, the ink long since dried from her evening toil. It was too early still, first light was yet a couple hours distant, leaving her with but time to think. She toured the room and stepped next to the window, looking out through the foggy glass, wiping the moisture free with a ghostly hand. She could see the inhuman reflection in the mirror, but looked past it instead to the sea.

“Pray return swiftly, love…” She chirped softly to the glass, pulling her arms around herself as she thought back to her nightmare. ‘Am I still holding on to something? Or is it that these memories refuse to let me go..?’ She took a breath and sighed, pushing the window shut as she let her mind wander a bit as she found herself caught with free time.



Her dozing was interrupted by a ping in her mind’s eye, which was followed by a soft rapping upon wood at her door. She slowly turned to watch the door a moment before she heard a voice call out.

"Did you fall asleep then?" A familiar voice chimed from without, and she relaxed a slight. "Come in, Marcus." She'd seen too much blood, and too many betrayals now to not feel some sense of caution, perhaps even paranoia. Such fear was unbecoming of one such as her, and she felt an inner shame for it, but through her years in sundren she never lived up to her potential, and never did what she had to to rise up and claim her right as a proper adversary of the evils of the land.

The door clicked and slowly swung open, the young man stepped in dressed in comfortable leggings, a brown tunic with a cloak hung over his shoulders. "The horses are ready, and I've said my goodbyes." He took a glance around the room. "It doesn't... exactly look like you're ready though are you sure about this?"

She offered a nod. "I've but a few things to pack, I'll be travelling in my armor, it's light enough and I'd rather not be caught unprepared in the case of vampires, orcs, or... to a lesser extent brigands." She turns a wrist, looking at him plainly. The turmoil she had felt since awakening was firmly slipped beneath a stoic mask, aided by her inhuman appearance as unreadable.

He still looked a little puzzled, confused. "Right... well..." He trailed off a moment, and she lifted her head a slight. "Speak your mind."

"You haven't told me much of where we're going, or why we're going there. Do you no longer desire to aid the port with your knighthood?" His lips twitched, perhaps he was withholding more. She shook her head however, gesturing to him with an open hand.

"My purpose here is squandered, while I can fill the role of a knight or soldier through channeling the full breadth of my power, it is ultimately wasteful I fear. And it is becoming too political for my like anyways, when it was us against the savages and the banites at least my battles were cut and dry, simple and easy to recognize. Even then though, for my crusading, my victories, strength, ultimately none of it stopped the banites from digging their claws into Sestra. As well as the betrayal, deaths, or retreat of many friends and colleagues from the country…”

Her eyes trained off to the distance, staring through the walls in a brief, reflective silence. “My crusade marches forward Marcus, but I need to be free to do the right thing wheresoever I might be, without worrying for oversight crippling my ability to act. I have faith that I have found a place free of such politics, where there will be many more like us for you to call upon, rather than me alone..."

His eyes almost looked like they were glazing over, though as she trailed off he shook his head. "Yeah, sure... right. Well... it makes sense when you put it that way, what with crusading and all that junk- er, duty." Her eyes lingered on him a moment before she turned to her desk and plucked a parchment from the tabletop.

"Here, pray deliver this to Meriadoc's stewards, they're aware I'm departing so it should not cause any stir, I am merely making it official." He took the parchment and nodded once briefly, before offering an awkward salute. "Right... well, see you at the gates Gabby." “-A moment.” She called to him as he had stepped just outside the door, he turned back and looked to her curiously.

“When we arrive, you will no longer be my apprentice; you will be my equal, if not in power then at least standing. We will be beginning anew, understand this when we set out.” He paused a moment, then inclined his head and quietly stepped out the door, a light click sounded as it drew shut.

She couldn't help a little smile as she pulled her robes off and grasped one of her bracers. "It is as much because I am inspired by what you have accomplished in so short a time… though you needn’t know that, your ego is sizable as it is… though as a knight I have failed this country, I pray as a teacher I might come to do better."



The dawn came...

Just outside the gates, Gabrielle went over her saddled mare, double checking the stable-hand's work with a fair level of satisfaction. Her silvery armor gleamed brightly in the morning light as she fashioned her swords to her horses saddle, and hung her shield over her shoulder. The blue cloak and flowing robes that hung from beneath her armor flapped lightly in the morning's breeze. She paused a moment to look over the ceremonial longsword, unclipping it from her saddle to examine it once more.

"It's yours." A stern voice said not far from her flank, she glanced and immediately recognized the grizzled helmite. "... Until death you are a knight of the Northern Watch, Dame Atkinson." She released a sigh, shaking her head slightly. "You know-"

"-I do know." He interrupted her before she could barely start. "And I approve, though it was you who swore the oath, so it is you who will continue to conduct yourself as a knight befitting the Northern Watch, wherever you may choose to go."

Her arms drifted down to her sides, her left hand still gripping the blade by its scabbard as she looked upon him, somewhat bewildered. After a moment she offered a slight bow, gesturing to the side. "You do me honor." "-No." Another interjection and her eyes were up in a flash, he had stepped much closer, offering his hand to her. "I hold you to your responsibility." She took his hand, and was pulled into his arms immediately, prickling whiskers taunted her mouth as he embraced her a moment, then released her, turning on a heel. "Beg Starweaver's forgiveness when you see her next, farewell Gabrielle."

And before she could collect herself he'd disappeared beyond the gates, after a moment she rolled her eyes and grinned. "Damn charlatan..." She muttered as she hooked her boot into a stirrup and pulled herself up into the saddle. A quick snap of the reigns and the two burst into motion, trotting down the trail and disappearing into the hills.

~~Use of character/NPC was discussed and approved by Vaelek and DM Requiem~~
#character retired
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Aesa Volsung - Uthgardt Warrior

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Gabrielle Atkinson - Mage Priest of Torm
Anasath Zesiro - Mulhorandi Morninglord
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Aramil - Nutter

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  #2  
Old 04-01-2016
Peridan's Avatar
Peridan Peridan is offline
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Location: Camden, New Jersey
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"The lady knight, lost in her purpose, rode north by all accounts. While her adventures along the way were many, other stories do her better justice than I ever could. After all, she was a hero, of sorts. A real one, one who sacrificed for others.

I never knew much of her past, to be frank. She was a person who held her secrets as close as I hold my own, and likely better at doing so in light of my own predisposition as a bit of a. . . well, braggart. Or at least, I was at the time.

I met her on a torrential downpour of an evening, at an inn in the newly fallen Sundren City. I remember it clearly, for there are certain points in a man's life that he looks back and realizes that it was a turning point. A few, that's all we get. But when we recognize them, we have the ability to turn them into greatness.

I, on the other hand, blew it pretty badly.

She walked in with her helmet in hand, an elaborate longsword sitting at her hip. But that wasn't that interested me. Despite my, ahem, inebriated state--Yes, yes, I was piss drunk, fine--I could see the light of the Weave practically shining out her pores. It's not often you meet a person like that, only masters are able to generate that kind of fluorescence. And what's more, she saw it in me, despite my efforts otherwise.

She strode over, her hair cut clean to the scalp. Her eyes blazed with the kind of intensity you see either in saints or fanatics. She asked me what I was doing there, in so many words. I told her I was waiting to see if she was going to name her rates for the evening.

As I said, I blew it.

In fact, I blew it straight out of the bar, and through the cheap plywood wall. While I wasn't by any means at the top of my game I still kept a charm or two on me in those days. Didn't do shit, to be honest. I could feel a broken rib, maybe two. Selune tripled in my view briefly, and I wondered how She dealt with two identical sisters. This brief rumination didn't help as I was dragged up by my lapel with a hand, the stone against my back aggravating my injuries.

And as I looked up into those bright eyes, I saw something else. Pity, maybe. She leaned in, and her breath smelled like citrus. At my core I felt something shift. Something broken, that I had thought best forgotten and forever fucking buried. Guilt, regret, shame. Over the death of Aeron, of Rufus, of the countless magi who once called me something more than 'shiftless drunk.'

And she forgave me. That's all. She forgave me for my sins and I knew that I could never repay her. I could never thank her. I could never live up to that gift. But I knew I had to try, then and there, in that dark alley. Surrounded by my past, the stink of ale, and the lady knight you now call 'Master.'

For she cleaned me up, healed my wounds, and we went searching for others. We found them, the magi who had followed me, Rufus, and Aeron in a mad quest to build something better than the Left Hands. Better than the Hands at all, really. She and I gathered the rest and we rebuilt the Magisterium into what it is today. A place of learning, of power, and of law.

I cannot say for certain if the Magisterium would have been here today if not for that evening. Perhaps it might. Perhaps not. But I can say this: she is a hero, not just because she fought against the Black Hand to save lives. But because she saved mine."

-Archmage Swift, to his apprentice Thalia Myrnick
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Peridan Twilight, one-eyed dog of the Legion, deceased.
Daniel Nobody, adventurer and part time problem solver.

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If you can dodge a wrench, you can dodge an intermediate deity's unbridled fury.
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