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Author Topic: The Legion Immortalis: The Bulwark of Heaven (Part 4)  (Read 69232 times)

Offline Archdemon Stu

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Re: The Legion Immortalis: The Bulwark of Heaven (Part 4)
« Reply #120 on: September 17, 2013, 10:53:25 PM »
The road ahead of them would be difficult; a trial by fire for the new recruits.  The odds seemed stacked heavily against them as he learned more about Fortuna.  The party would need as many advantages as they could get.  Weapons, armor, positioning, and knowledge.

"If we are to face the Forsaken, it is vital that we Childer know more of the death wounds upon on our foes." Fjorin looked about the room to those who would be facing the trials of the Sanguine Fields.  "I feel we shall use this information shortly."

With those present in the room, the pool of information to be had on the Forsaken would no doubt be extensive.  It was possible there was too much to share in such a small amount of time.  He turned to General Fury and Blood, "Perhaps we can strategize on the journey.  Do Avalon's archives have parchments or scrolls regarding the death wounds?"

Offline Kitharsis

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Re: The Legion Immortalis: The Bulwark of Heaven (Part 4)
« Reply #121 on: September 18, 2013, 08:55:23 AM »
Sembas's golden eyes focus on Fjorin.  His idea is sound, and one that had never crossed the Falconer's mind.  Upon hearing it, he nearly curses for his own foolishness.

"You have a good idea there, Fjorin.  If I recall correctly, Jonas Philosophy used to actually be a Forsaken.  If there is enough time we should ask him for any information he can give us."

He hesitates for a moment, a tinge of nervousness hitting him.  "If he mutters the word, Flay, well... Run like hell."

The skinning of Faran rushes through his mind.  A solemn reminder of what might be waiting for them from the hands of the Forsaken.

Offline Faidth

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Re: The Legion Immortalis: The Bulwark of Heaven (Part 4)
« Reply #122 on: September 18, 2013, 10:41:59 AM »
Fury and Blood exchange glances.

"Did Vartan send any information on specific Forsaken, other than Fortuna herself?"

Fury nods. "A few. He confirmed Cauter has not been seen there... yet anyway. He would likely be the greatest threat other than Fortuna herself."

"Cauter..." Blood spits out the name as if it is something distasteful. "Even if they don't think we have found out about this scheme, I doubt Severan would make the mistake of leaving Fortuna alone for long."

"Vartan confirmed at least a few who have come and gone. Azazel Punisher, Navar Coward, and a Childer Immortalis, Ravana Blackheart. Interestingly enough, I believe it is the Childer we should be most wary of. Fortuna has taken her on as her own apprentice. There is likely a small dispatch of guards meant to protect Fortuna, but Vartan did not confirm if they are Forsaken or other creatures of the Adversary," explains Fury.

Fury looks to Fjorin. "You remain here, Fjorin of the Ebonmane. I will show you to the Bulwark archives. Dethys has been cataloging information on the Death Wounds of the Forsaken." She looks to Sembas next. "Your idea is a sound one. You are correct; it would be advantageous to see what Jonas may be able to tell us. Though be advised, do not press him too hard for information. His empathy is such that merely recounting those times can cause him great pain. You should be able to find him in his home. He mentioned he would be training with Faran today." Fury crosses to Corvus and puts her hand on her son's shoulder. "Take Siron to Smith's armory. He will need improved weapons and armor for this mission. Fenwick, I would advise you seek out Dethys in his home. He will want to speak with you immediately. Sig, you and Blood head to the tavern to speak with Calming. He has some materials that may be able to help us on this mission."
« Last Edit: September 18, 2013, 05:32:35 PM by Faidth »

Offline Cameron

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Re: The Legion Immortalis: The Bulwark of Heaven (Part 4)
« Reply #123 on: September 19, 2013, 09:18:50 AM »
"A sound tactical decision, sendin me to the tavern! One of my areas of expertise, that is."

If Sig is worried about any of the things he has just heard or concerned about the upcoming mission, he does not show it. Sig did a lot of reading of human literature about bards before coming here, and he knows that part of the bard's role in a group is to keep spirits raised. He won't be able to do that if he's acting like a frightened dormouse. But when he looks up at Blood, she can see his grin falter for a split second before he speaks.

"Well, lass? How about it? Shall we head out?"

Offline Kitharsis

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Re: The Legion Immortalis: The Bulwark of Heaven (Part 4)
« Reply #124 on: September 19, 2013, 09:58:04 AM »
It has been a while since he had heard word from Faran.  It is good to hear that he is up and training with Jonas.  The last time he saw the Singer he was in quite a sad state.

"We will check in with Jonas."

As the group disperses Sembas makes a point to talk with Archer and Dennan before he leaves. 

"I'll ask Faile where I can find you later."  He says to Archer, waiting for her response before tapping Dennan on the shoulder.

"If we have time, I think learning to be a falcon would be a useful tool for this mission.  And I think Chico would finally like to set his eyes on your larders."

"Can't go adventuring on an empty stomach!"  Chico adds.

With a grin Sembas makes his exit.  Faile hops from Archer's shoulder onto his wrist as he walks by.  Once they exit the building she catches a thermal and locates Jonas Philosophy. 

Sembas makes his way towards his direction as Faile tips her wings and flies toward her and Besnik's nest.

Offline Faidth

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Re: The Legion Immortalis: The Bulwark of Heaven (Part 4)
« Reply #125 on: September 20, 2013, 05:34:31 PM »
@Sembas:

Archer nods, but you can sense underlying tones of her unease. It does not take a genius to figure out that she is not exactly thrilled you are going to what she likely perceives as one of the most dangerous places in the mortal realm. Yet, you also know she would never try to sway you from your path. “Hurry back,” she says, placing a soft kiss upon your cheek. 

Dennan, too, seems distracted. He stands with his tree trunk arms crossed over his chest, and a distant look affects his face. At your request to learn to take the form of a falcon, he responds with a grunt. The particular inflection of this grunt, you have come to know, means yes. Dennan has always been a bit of an enigma, and an anomaly even among his own people. He has never been one to express fear or apprehension, so you doubt that is what is tugging at his attention, but surely it must be important to make him appear so unsettled.

Jonas is easy enough to find. You’ve seen his home before. It is rather unremarkable on the outside, certainly not as opulent as many of the other abodes in Avalon. The front yard is covered in tall brown grasses, and in the left corner of the yard is a very unusual tree. Its trunk is incredibly thick, being many feet around, yet its branches are short and stocky. Another tree adorns the right corner of the yard. Its trunk is not very tall, but its branches are long and similar in length, making it appear as if the tree holds a flat green table of leaves at the top of its branches.

You raise your fist to knock upon the door, but before you can, the door opens and you find yourself staring up at the enormous, dark skinned chef you know as Jonas Philosophy.

“Hello, Sembas! So good to see you! Come in, man, come in!” Jonas ushers you into his house. You follow him down the hallway and into his sitting room. He gestures for you to have a sit in an enormous chair that looks like it was woven of some thick, course wood. Upon it is a dark, brown cushion that is incredibly comfortable. Beneath the chair is what appears to be a rather strange animal pelt. It is unlike anything you have ever seen before having strange stripes of black and white, yet appearing as if it came from some kind of horse.

Upon the wall is a variety of weapons, mostly spears, machetes, and knives. Beside them are strange, brown, oblong masks carved of wood. Some of them are painted with red, black, yellow, and white, and some are unadorned.

“So, what brings you to my humble home, Sembas?” Though Jonas asks this question, you somehow get the impression he already knows why you are there. That much you have come to know of Jonas; he is amazingly perceptive. “I wish you had been a bit sooner. You just missed Faran. I am sure he would have loved to see you. Perhaps he will be back before you leave,” smiles Jonas broadly.


@Siron:

   Corvus beckons for you to follow him. He leads you out of the Blood-Warden base and down a path to the left. Ahead you can see a rather large building where curls of smoke pour out of the roof.

   “Smith’s the finest armorer and weaponsmith you will ever meet,” speaks Corvus. “He will surely have some weapons and armor suited to you.”
   You enter the main doors of Smith’s shop and find yourself surrounded by masses of weapons and armor. Every inch of the walls are covered in something made to stab, slash, smash, bludgeon, pierce, or protect. Behind the counter is a stocky bald man whose hands are covered in soot. He wipes his arm across his brow, leaving a streak of black upon his forehead.

   “Ah. Hello there, lads. What brings ye to me part of the world?” greets Smith.

   “My friend here needs new weapons and armor. Mom asked that I bring him down here to find something suitable,” responds Corvus.

   “Suitable!” Smith snorts in mock derision. “Ye’d be more hard pressed to find something ye don’t deem ‘suitable.’” He smirks. “I don’t do just plain suitable, lad. Ye know that. I craft perfection, or at least as close to it as the Divine will let me get. So that is what ye are here for. The perfect weapons and armor for yer friend.” Smith extends his hand to you. “Armen Smith. Welcome to Avalon, lad.”


@Fenwick

   After the meeting, Cleo leads you outside. “Do you want me to go with you… to see Dethys?” She places her hand upon your arm. “I have to be honest with you, Wicky. I really don’t think this is a good idea. I know you must see your father, but… I fear what you may find in the shadow of the Marrow, my love. That place is nothing but wickedness, and it can corrupt the best of us. Your heart has been waging a great war with your mind, and that place will prey upon both. I don’t want to see anything bad happen to you, Wicky.” You can tell her concern is genuine, and her shining blue eyes seem moments away from breaking into tears. “I respect your wishes, and I understand if you must go, but please consider this carefully, Wicky. That man may no longer be the father you remember.”


@Sig

   “So, to the tavern then,” says Blood, gesturing for you to follow her. She leads you out of the Blood-Warden base, and after a short time, you arrive in the town square of Avalon.

   “What could Calming have that we would need?” wonders Blood aloud. “He does not see much action on the front lines. He was never much of a warrior. I don’t doubt he could kill someone with that glorified stick if he needed to, or staff as he calls it. I have never known Calming to fight. He seems to find his way out of trouble with his words. Believe it or not, during a brief stay in the human realm, he ran into Lieutenant Cauter. Calming was captured, and he actually talked Cauter into letting him go. I don’t know how he did it, but Cauter let him walk right out of there. Perhaps he has some magical item we can use.”

   As you enter the tavern, you are immediately greeted by Calming who quickly fills two pints and slides them in front of each of you. “Hello, Blood. Sig. Honestly surprised to see you back here after last night. Figured you’d still be sleeping it off, Adia,” he says with a wink. “So, I take it you’re not just here for the booze and the company.”

   “We’re leaving for the Marrow tomorrow. The General said you might have something that could help us,” speaks Blood.

   “I might,” responds Calming. “Yet, you know nothing is free.”

   Blood frowns. “Actually, everything in Avalon is free.”

   Calming chuckles. “Not this. I’ll give you something to help you in the Marrow, but it’s going to cost you first.”

   Blood crosses her arms over her chest. “Galenus, I don’t have time for this.”

   “Sure you do,” says Calming as he runs his long fingers through his shaggy brown hair. “I want you to tell Sig what you told me last night.”

   Blood’s face is a testament of her namesake; her cheeks take on a deep shade of crimson. “What?”

   “You told me something about Sig last night, before he came to the tavern. I want you to repeat to him what you said to me,” insists Calming.

   Though it seemed impossible moments ago, Blood grows even redder. Her eyes narrow and you can’t tell if she is embarrassed, enraged, or perhaps both.

   “Galenus… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” replies Blood stubbornly.

   “Yes… You do… And personally, I think it would be very therapeutic for you to say it to him,” responds Calming.

   “Stay out of it, Calming,” snarls Blood.

   Calming shakes his head. “You know, Adia… One of these days, you’re going to have to come clean, I just hope you manage to do it before it’s too late.” Calming places both hands upon the bar and seems to debate for a few moments. “I can see you’re not going to budge, so fine… I was going to give it to you anyway. Come on.”

   Calming leads you and Blood upstairs to his apartment. You’re not entirely unsurprised his living space is above the bar. Come to think of it, you don’t recall ever seeing Calming out of the bar. You make your way up creaky wooden steps and into Calming’s modest apartment. Kegs and bottles of all shapes sizes and colors line the left side of the room. You get the feeling these are likely Calming’s private reserves. There is a fireplace in the corner, and above it a mantle. Upon the mantle is a single, wooden tankard. It is beautifully carved, and it seems the shelf is dedicated to that item alone. Perhaps it has some significance to the barkeep.

   “Have a seat.” Calming gestures to two comfortable brown armchairs. Blood immediately flops onto one of them.

   Calming leaves the room and you can hear him in another room loudly rifling through his belongings as he attempts to locate this mysterious item of great importance.


@Fjorin:

   Once the others have departed, Fury gestures for you and Lai to follow her. She crosses to the far wall of the room, near where the communication orb is. You watch as she presses her hands against the wall. Inexplicably, her fingers and palm seem to sink into the smooth stone. You hear a loud clicking sound and watch as the wall opens to a secret passage.

   As you follow Fury down the hidden corridor, you note several rooms on either side, but your destination is straight ahead at the end of the hallway: the Bulwark Archives. It is an enormous library, and the walls are covered from floor to ceiling in tomes, scrolls, and stacks of papers.

   “Not every Ageless is a member of the Bulwark, and there are certain secrets that are so great we cannot even trust them among our own people,” explains Fury.

She crosses to a shelf, her eye scanning the titles until she arrives at the one she desires. It is a large book bound in bright, red leather. “Ah…Here it is.” She gestures to a table in the center of the room where the three of you seat yourselves. She places the book in front of you. “As you know, some Death Wounds are very obvious.” She gestures to her own eye. “Yet others…” Her gaze locks upon you. “Are not so easily found.”

“Many of us go to great lengths to keep our Death Wounds a secret. In truth, only those who have access to the sacred tome of the Immortalis, the chronicle of the birth, journey, and death of every Immortalis, would have access to such information, and even then the information may be sparse. Only one such book exists, and that is in the care of the First Scribe of the Sacred Order, Dethys Night. Long have the Forsaken sought to replicate the book, yet to my knowledge, they have been unable to do so. Knowledge of Death Wounds is one of our greatest advantages, yet it is information we do not freely share with all Immortalis. The reason being, in the unlikely case that one of our people turns to the side of the Forsaken, they will take with them the knowledge of all of our weaknesses.”

“However, you are correct in saying it would benefit you to know of the Death Wounds of the Forsaken. This book does not discriminate by faction; there are Wounds listed for both Ageless and Forsaken alike. I ask that you look only at the pages on the Forsaken. The Forsaken are listed under the section labeled Darastae.” Fury opens to a section and points at the page. “Take great care to examine Fortuna’s. She guards her weakness well, and even attempting to strike at it may hold its own hazard for you.”

Offline Cameron

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Re: The Legion Immortalis: The Bulwark of Heaven (Part 4)
« Reply #126 on: September 20, 2013, 10:02:54 PM »
Sigurd follows Blood to the tavern. He listens intently as Blood discusses Calming.

"Sounds like a pretty smooth talker. But I guess he'd have to be to run a bar for a bunch of immortals, eh? Hey! Maybe it's a magical brew that protects us from spirits! That would be incredibly helpful. And tasty too."

Sig is very happy to be greeted by a fresh pint upon reaching the tavern. He is busy drinking it when Calming tells Blood his price for his help. He sputters in mid drink as Calming mentions Sig.

"Now wait a minute-" he tries to interject before Blood cuts him off with a snarl, insisting that Calming "stay out of it." He remains silent as Calming and Blood finish their conversation and they are led upstairs.

"An apartment above a tavern. Now here's something I can get behind. And impeccably furnished too!"

Sig makes a note to ask Calming about the lone tankard as soon as he returns from fetching this item. But while they have a moment to themselves, Sig turns and speaks to Blood in a low voice.

"So, lass. What was that little scene about?"

Offline Radobe

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Re: The Legion Immortalis: The Bulwark of Heaven (Part 4)
« Reply #127 on: September 21, 2013, 09:01:43 AM »
“Smith’s the finest armorer and weaponsmith you will ever meet,” speaks Corvus. “He will surely have some weapons and armor suited to you.”

Siron nods in agreement. He did not deem his armor unsuitable, but he could not hold back his curiosity, thinking what else could Avalon offer?

“Ah. Hello there, lads. What brings ye to me part of the world?”…  “Armen Smith. Welcome to Avalon, lad.”

The knight’s mouth had been replaced by a huge gaping hole.  Even though he insists on plate armor for himself, Siron has spent a commendable amount of time to learn about and understand all aspects of armor and weaponry.  As a knight, he needs to be prepared when facing an enemy and not being aware of the properties of their equipment could prove to be deadly. It was that knowledge that had led his face to its current transformation.

Siron didn’t pay any notice to what any one was saying.  With his mouth still wide open he went to the wall and grabbed a shield. “This looks so sturdy, yet it is so light,” leaving the shield back on the wall he picks a mace next. “Incredible! This is so well balanced, how was it even made?” He flips the mace in his hand and tosses it from one arm to the other. Leaving the weapon back in its place, the knight admires the wall for a few more seconds before he notices a back room. Without delay Siron goes into the room.

“THIS IS AWESOME!”  The boy screamed at the top of his lungs, his voice could have easily been heard outside.  He slowly backs out of the room and looks at the smith, pointing his finger at him. “Did you… alone... how did you… how many… “In each gap of his speech he gasps for air, excitement had taken over and his heart was beating at an incredible pace. “Who are you man?” As soon as he says that he goes back into the room and starts rummaging through the gear, admiring each item he pulls out.
An eye for two, a tooth for a jaw, a hair for a head! Fight to be respected!

Offline Kitharsis

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Re: The Legion Immortalis: The Bulwark of Heaven (Part 4)
« Reply #128 on: September 23, 2013, 11:42:19 AM »
The demeanor of his two closest friends in Avalon is striking.  Seeing both of them so unsettled after hearing of the mission into The Marrow hits him in the pit of his stomach.  He steels himself as he makes his way out of the Bulwark, but as he exits the building his courageous facade fades.

"I haven't seen them so worried before, not at the mere mention of a place."  He says to Chico.  "I would not think General Fury would send us to our doom.  She must think us capable, otherwise we would not have been chosen."

Faile was giving him the silent treatment after his mention of possibly not bringing her along.  He waves as she becomes a dot in the sky high above.

--

Jonas's house is fronted by two oddly shaped trees.  Sembas considers them for a moment before approaching the Chef's door.  It opens before his knock, and Jonas invites him in.  Sembas stammers a bit, being thrown off guard, before accepting his invitation.  Jonas's warm greeting is disarming, and the ominous feeling that had settled in his gut begins to subside.

The Chef's house holds some rather interesting features.  He admires the spears and blades hanging from the wall, favoring the weapons himself.  Upon seeing a particularly sharp looking knife Sembas's mind wanders back to the sparring day.  Cold bony fingers tickle his back and he can't help but shudder. 

He meekly turns to Jonas as he asks him why he came by.

Clearing his throat, he responds.  "I would have liked to have seen Faran.  It has been some time.  I...  I hope his training is going well?"  As stubborn as The Singer is, he also has a great deal of strength.  Sembas is still sorry to see that Faran has not joined the Bulwark yet, but we all must walk our own path.

Gathering more nerve, Sembas continues.  "I have to say, your house is quite pleasant.  Your personal style surely shines through.  I haven't seen trees like the ones in your yard before.  And the animal skin on this chair is unfamiliar to me.  May I ask, where are you from originally, Jonas?"


Offline Faidth

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Re: The Legion Immortalis: The Bulwark of Heaven (Part 4)
« Reply #129 on: September 23, 2013, 07:14:53 PM »
@Sembas:

Jonas beams at your mention of his prize pupil. “Faran is brilliant. Very powerful and full of potential.” Jonas leans closer to whisper conspiratorially. “But don’t tell him I said that.” He leans back in his chair again, crossing his arms over his chest. “He is also very stubborn, easily offended, and easily the most headstrong person I have ever met! He would tell you the sky is green for the sake of argument!” Jonas chuckles. “But I believe his training is going quite well. I must admit I have a great affection for the boy. His boldness reminds me somewhat of myself. I suppose the likeness is both annoying and endearing.”

At your mention of the trees that grace his yard, he smiles widely. “Ah! The thick squat one, in my country, we call it baobab. Its trunks and roots are very strong, but it’s branches lack the span of the trees you see in these lands. Yet it is hardy… sturdy… It must be so. Had it the small trunk and wide branches of the woods in these lands, it would surely die in my home country.”

“The thin tree, we call that acacia. It looks inviting. It provides food and is quite fragrant. Yet, it is one to be wary of, for its thorns can inflict great pain upon any unsuspecting foe.”

As you mention the animal skin upon the floor, he smiles sadly. “Punda milia in my native language. A rather gentle beast that travels in herds. Its black and white stripes, somehow, help it to hide in the tall grasses of our lands. Its meat has a very soft flavor and is a rare delight amongst the tribes of my homeland.”

When you ask where Jonas hails from, his smile falters ever so slightly. “I know your true purpose, Sembas… you mean to ask me about the Forsaken. Yet, the path of questioning you have chosen is a wise decision. So much of the self is formed by the past. I was a Forsaken, a truth that pains me more than I can begin to express, yet at the time, I thought I fought with righteousness on my side. I thought what I was doing was somehow right. It was only once the Divine truly opened my eyes did I see the error of my ways.”

Jonas sighs heavily. “I will tell you my tale, though it pains me to even share it. Yet, I know if you are to be successful in your mission, this is the way it must be. I owe the Divine and my fellow Ageless that much.”

“I come from the lands in the far south. We call it Chiamaka. It means ‘god is beautiful.’ My tribe was called the Olatunde. Before I was Jonas Philosophy, my name was Ayo Amadi.  In my language, Ayo means ‘most beloved,’ and believe me, I truly was. I was the light of my mother’s life. However, Amadi means ‘to seem destined to die at birth.’ I was an only child, and very sickly. No one thought I would survive. Yet my mother held on to the hope I would thrive. My father was a warrior, and he was not around much, so I was all she had. Perhaps the Divine saw fit to answer her prayers. I lived.”

   “As I grew I did not have the strength of my peers, but what I lacked in body, I made up for with my mind. This impressed the Elders of my tribe. I remember many times the village Chief would exclaim, ‘This boy would be a great warrior if it were not for his unfortunate size!’ If only he could see me now!” Jonas has a deep, resonating laugh.

   “Then… something odd happened. In my eighth year, I began to grow at an alarming rate. By the time I was twelve, I was already six feet tall and my formerly weak limbs were thick with enormous muscles.”

   “The warriors who had once scoffed at me eagerly accepted me as their brother. I was trained to wield a spear and javelin for the purposes of both hunting and combat, and by the time I reached my fourteenth year, I was the most skillful warrior in our tribe. Not even our war chiefs could stand against me in battle.”

   “Around that time, my father informed me I would undergo the traditional rite of passage. I would have to lead a raid against another tribe. I was never particularly fond of warfare. Despite my strength and skill, I always felt more could be gained with diplomacy. Years of warfare had crippled our numbers. Too much blood had been spilled. I felt we could spare ourselves the horrors of war by working through peace. The village elders politely listened, as I was quite well-spoken, and honestly they were a bit frightened of me. I believed that peace was the only way to resolve conflict.”

“For years, I kept this dream alive, and we managed to unify our people with several other tribes. I fell in love with a woman of the Bolade tribe. Her name was Adanna… and she was the keeper of my heart. She bore me a daughter, Adaeze and a son, Azubuike. I felt so very blessed. I doted upon them. She, my beautiful princess, and he, my strong warrior. They took such delight in the smallest of things. I would carve them creatures from wood. For my daughter, a bird, and for my son, a great cat with an enormous mane, a lion, as they are called by the white man.”

“But the time of peace we worked so hard for would be splintered like a tree by lightning. My father, along with many of our strongest warriors, vanished into thin air. They had left to scout a herd of beasts, and they never returned. To make matters worse, my village was invaded by northern barbarian tribes. They had never ventured that far south before.”

   Jonas sighs heavily. “We fought bravely, and many warriors died, I myself was upon death’s door when they took me. The barbarians gathered as many of us as they could. They took me, my wife… our children. They packed us like cattle into their ships, took us back to their lands, and sold us to the highest bidder.”

“Our master… he was a terrible man. He kept us through fear, separating husbands from wives under the promise that if the men attempted to rise against him, he would kill our wives and children. I loved my wife and children more than the air I breathe. I could not let harm come to them.”

“Because we were separated at the compound, I saw my family very infrequently. One day, I was surprised and elated to see my wife, our growing children clasping each of her hands. She smiled at me, and despite the fact she knew it would cause her trouble, she ran towards me and wrapped her arms around me. She couldn’t bear to be parted from me, nor I from her.”

“This act was seen by the owner’s son. Long had I watched him gaze upon my wife with indecency in his eyes. He came to her one night, telling her he would not tell his father she had defied the rules. He would keep quiet if she would but lay with him. He held her down upon the cot as my children screamed for me to help their mother.”

Jonas’s hands clench at his sides and his knuckles grow white with the memory. “ I…”

You notice that blood has begun to trickle from his ear, but he is committed to sharing his tale. “I forced my way into the hut moments before he could force his way into my wife. Bruises covered her face and arms. She had tried to fight against him, but he was determined to take all he could of her. I picked up a woodsman’s axe from the floor and I buried it into his back.”

   Jonas grits his teeth and you can tell that simply recounting his acts of violence are beginning to cause him physical pain. “I took my wife and children, and we ran as far and for as long as we could. Yet there were so many looking for us as ‘some ruthless slave had murdered the master’s son.’ They promised freedom to any slave that aided in our capture, so we were hunted by the barbarians and our own. I killed many that day, but in the end, we were captured and forced to return.”

   “The owner had other sons and they whipped me until I could scarcely see. There was so much blood… so much pain… But it could not compare to what they did next.” Jonas fights back tears. “They made my wife kneel before me, and the master raised an axe over his head… the same one I had used to kill his son, and he brought it down upon my wife’s back. He wanted me to watch her die.”

   “Still, my pain was not great enough. The whipping continued, until more blood had poured from my wounds than my body could bear. My children watched both their parents die that day.”

“The Divine saw fit to give me a second chance, and I used that chance to obliterate anything in my path. I killed the rest of the master’s sons, yet the master himself managed to escape… with my children. His wealth was limitless, and despite the fact I pursued him for years, chasing shadows and whispers of his whereabouts, he always managed to elude me.”

“I became consumed by my hatred. How could a loving god, how could the Divine, give me a second chance to only bring me more pain? The loss of my wife was great, and the loss of my children hardened my heart until there was nothing left. I was in such a state when I was found by Severan Deceit. He promised to help me seek my revenge in exchange for my loyalty.” Jonas winces and his cheeks redden as if he was just slapped. “The crimes I committed in his name scarred my soul. I became that which I hated. I killed without mercy, destroyed without purpose, and punished without cause. Men, women, children… it did not matter. Nothing could fill the gaping hole in my heart.” Jonas clasps his hands to his head and you can see fresh, crimson, tears trickle down his cheeks in sanguine rivulets.

Jonas groans. “Severan was true to his word. I don’t know how he did it, perhaps his pact with the Adversary himself, but one day, he arrived with a slip of paper, and upon it, an address where I could find my old master. I paid him a visit. He claimed he did not fear me. He told me he had taken personal satisfaction in watching as my children were worked to death.”

“As for my master… I made him pay for what he did. Severan trusted me with many of his secrets. He watched me transform from a blithering mess into a heartless executioner, and it was he who taught me the word flay. I flayed my master alive, but unlike I did with Faran, I completed the task. By the time I was done with him, he was little more than piles of skin, flesh, and shattered bones.”

   “My revenge complete, I committed myself to aiding Severan, the man who had helped me to bring justice upon my old enemy. One day, Severan ordered me to lead an assault on a port town. They were all mortals. It would be an easy task. I left destruction and chaos in my wake and slaughtered those that begged for mercy upon their knees. Yet… there was a small group of local guards, led by a strong, able-bodied young man. He did not fear me, and that just made me want to slaughter him even more. He was a worthy foe, and at one point, he managed to graze the scars upon my back. They bled uncontrollably, and I thought I just might die again that day. Eventually, I managed to overpower him, and in his final moments, he struck me upon the cheek so hard that it knocked the helm from my head.”

   Blood pours down Jonas’s face and you see fresh wounds open upon his arms, soaking his wrists and the backs of his palms. “I saw recognition in his eyes and I heard him gasping as he struggled to pull a small trinket from his pocket. Nothing could mask my horror as he thrust a small, wooden lion into my hands. Azubuike had grown into the brave warrior I had always hoped he would be. In his final moments, he told me where I could find his sister… my daughter… my little princess, Adaeze. He bid me bring the trinket to her, so she knew of his passing.”

   Jonas clutches his chest in agony as tears of blood continue to stream down his face. “I held my son in my arms as he died. Nothing could move me from that spot. Nothing. Not Lt. Cauter who asked, then threatened me, then demanded I move at once. Not even the Ageless who arrived to drive out the Forsaken. I had battled the Ageless before. I was sure they would kill me, and I would welcome it. The Butcher of Darastae had killed so many of them. It was only just they take my life for all I had done.”

   Jonas takes several deep breaths and his breathing begins to slow. The blood that pours from his eyes and from the seemingly impossible wounds upon his body, begins to recede from where it came. “But there came a warrior beyond compare, one of a name I had heard only in hushed whispers in Darastae. He was clad in golden armor, his hair was raven black, and his piercing blue eyes locked onto mine. He knelt beside me and he whispered in my ear. What he said…” Jonas shakes his head. “Is for me alone to know. I have been loyal to the Archon, the Divine, and my fellow Ageless ever since that day. For the most part, I remain in Avalon, as there is little I could do on the front lines. My blessing was my redemption, but my curse is such that if I even think of causing harm to someone, I endure great pain, thus, I rarely leave Avalon. When I do, it is for the purpose of diplomacy or to aid the unfortunate in the mortal realm.”

   Jonas rests his chin upon his fist. “I did as my son asked. I found Adaeze. She was living well in a small town to the east of where Azubuike met his end. She was but a toddler when we had been parted. She did not recognize me, and I was too burdened with the shame of what I had done to reveal myself to her. To this day, it is my greatest regret. I wish I had the courage to tell her who I was… to wrap her in my arms and place a kiss upon her head as I had done when she was a child.”

   “I tell you all this so you know the truth of the Forsaken… They are as vulnerable as you or I, and despite all their ills, they are not incapable of redemption. They just need the right motivating factors to turn back to the light. I still believe peace can be achieved, even after all the blood that has spilled between the Ageless and the Forsaken. You, Sembas, just need to find out what it is that keeps the Forsaken from the arms of the Divine. If the wounds of their hearts can be healed, then there is hope for them yet.”

Offline john greymore

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Re: The Legion Immortalis: The Bulwark of Heaven (Part 4)
« Reply #130 on: September 24, 2013, 06:32:59 AM »
Fenwick considers Cleo's offer. He had offended Dethys not too long ago... But his father, his father!! Maybe she was right though... Maybe his father wasn't the same man he was before.

But that was all conjecture at this stage.

"I... I will go with you Cleo. Let us see Dethys. But I must see my father. This diversion cannot take too long."
Destruction begets Creation. Creation begets Interaction. Interaction begets Society. Society begets Use. Use begets Destruction.

Thus the cycle begins and ends.

Offline Archdemon Stu

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Re: The Legion Immortalis: The Bulwark of Heaven (Part 4)
« Reply #131 on: September 24, 2013, 01:42:33 PM »
Fury's gaze fixed on Fjorin as she mentioned death wounds.  Indeed, Fjorin was fortunate, though for reasons even he didn't know.  While his death wound was easily hidden, it was even more fortuitous that his existence had somehow passed unnoticed to all except the Lady of Shadows.  Even this "Dethys" would not know his wound, and Fjorin intended to keep it that way, from both Forsaken and Ageless alike.  Bayard Cael had a source somewhere, whether it be another tome, an ability... or an informant.

He obediently sifted through the pages of the Forsaken and the Forsaken alone.  Azazel Punisher, Navar Coward, Ravana Blackheart, Fortuna.

As Fjorin scanned through the pages, General Fury and Lai likely noticed that his pace was somewhat... "steady."

First, he located Blackheart.  He stared at the page for a moment before letting out a sigh, letting loose his pride.  "My apologies, I learned little of written word before my mother was captured.  Lai, would you mind?" he asked, making room for his fellow Ageless.  Should Lai accept the small task, he would ask of Punisher, Coward, Fortuna, Cauter, and Deceit as well.

As he shifted for Lai, Fjorin looked to General Fury.  "Do we yet have any ideas as to how Bayard Cael has such vast knowledge of the death wounds of Ageless?"

Offline Kitharsis

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Re: The Legion Immortalis: The Bulwark of Heaven (Part 4)
« Reply #132 on: September 24, 2013, 03:34:54 PM »
“I know your true purpose, Sembas… you mean to ask me about the Forsaken..."

Jonas, ever perceptive, has probably known his intentions before he even tried to knock on the man's door.  Sembas returns a nervous smile.  He wasn't sure what to expect from the man.  The story Jonas goes on to tell, and the physical manifestations of his painful memories are almost too much to bear.

Sembas is barely fighting back tears while Jonas speaks of his wife's torturous death.  The Forsaken took advantage of Jonas, that much is clear.  He can hardly blame him, having gone through so much tragedy at the hands of other human beings.  Anything that could have saved him would have been welcome.

The Falconer winces when Jonas mentions the word flay.  What empathy Sembas had for the large man in front of him began to fade as he recounts his deeds as a Forsaken. 

Emotions wax and wane within him.  Here before him is a man who has slaughtered mercilessly.  But the slaughter was not from any direction from within the man himself, rather the lack of it.  Having lost everything, he clung to the first cause that gave his life meaning. 

But in being a gruesome champion for such a cause, he only proceeded to lose everything once again.  His children were delivered into his hands, only to leave one dead, and one never knowing her father.  Never knowing him, save for the man that returned a keepsake from her deceased brother.

Tears threaten once more, and Sembas raises his thickly leathered hand to cover his eyes.

"...You, Sembas, just need to find out what it is that keeps the Forsaken from the arms of the Divine. If the wounds of their hearts can be healed, then there is hope for them yet.”

"Jonas I..."  Sembas says, almost in a whisper.  He removes his hand from his face.  His eyes are red, and it is hard to say if it is from his hidden tears, or for the hard leather of his glove.  It is a safe bet to assume it is a combination of the two.

"I cannot imagine, even after listening to... and watching... your re-telling of your past, the burden that weighs on your heart.  I am honored that you find me a worthy audience.  And at the same time I must apologize for making you relive those days.  Your message is clear, be assured."

He leans forward, placing his elbows on his knees and resting his chin in his open palms.

"Yet, how could I possibly heal wounds such as these, Jonas?  I am barely able to discern the heart of the Ageless here within Avalon.  You must have been well aware how apprehensive I felt around you until even a few moments ago."

Sembas sits back and runs a hand through his hair.  "Perhaps the thought that struck me earlier today was more relevant than I thought.  I must put more effort into my training.  Not only physically, but mentally and emotionally as well.  I only know the information that others have given freely.  Of course they will paint the Forsaken as our enemies.  I barely can spell their names, and here I go headstrong into the Sanguine Fields to meet them in battle like a fool."

The Falconer hangs his head.  Jonas's story is still working through his mind, tugging at his emotions.  The man's faith in him, his charge to attempt to mend the hearts of the Forsaken carries heavy weight.
« Last Edit: September 24, 2013, 03:43:25 PM by Kitharsis »

Offline Faidth

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Re: The Legion Immortalis: The Bulwark of Heaven (Part 4)
« Reply #133 on: September 25, 2013, 07:34:36 PM »
@Siron:

Corvus snickers. "Great Divine! He truly is a whelp! Like a newborn puppy! I hope he's at least trained to go outside..."

Smith chuckles at the young knight's obvious enthusiasm for his work. "Whoa, lad! Calm ye down a tad! I am honored by your admiration for me work, boy. As for who I am, just an ol' smith that likes to tinker a bit too much for me good. Got a bum leg. Can't get around like I used to, so it gives me plenty o' time for lashing together bits and bobs and smelting like a madman."

Smith narrows his eyes as if inspecting you to see what would be the ideal fit for your weapons and armor. He rubs his bearded chin. "Hmm..." Crossing to the wall, he selects two maces. One is heavy with razor sharp points at the end. The handle is made of some strange, dark metal. The second one appears lighter and the end is smooth, almost like a large steel ball at the end of a finely made wooden handle. "Now, this one..." He raises the ominous brutal weapon. "This will put a hurting on yer enemies for sure. You give them a good wallop and there's a fine chance that you'll cripple 'em well and good. Even a Forsaken will have trouble healing from a wound from this here. Only magic would be able to heal the target. Now this one..." Smith raises the second mace, the one with the smooth end. "Now this is a handy piece here. It'll still do the job as far as damagin' but, it's a personal favorite of mine, because ye can never be disarmed. No matter how hard someone tries to pry this weapon from your hands, unless you decide to let go, it ain't budging!"

Smith crosses to the far wall. "Hmm... Don't have anything too special in the way of shields, not yet anyway. Mind ye, I could whip up whatever ye want, but for now, one of these will do the job. Yer part of the Bulwark now, lad. Do ye have an inkling of yer leanings? Warrior like yerself is bound for the front lines, which means ye will probably be serving with a company."

He gestures to three shields upon the wall. The one on the far left is a large, red shield with a gauntleted, black fist closed over the hilt of a sword. There are beautifully ornate gold details throughout the border of the shield. “Now, there is the Blood-Wardens, that's General Fury's company. Her champion would be the lovely (though I use the term loosely) Captain Blood. This scalawag..." He gestures to Corvus. "Serves his mama's company, as does little Bran Thane.”

He gestures to the second shield, a large gray steel shield bearing the emblem of a wolf’s head. “I hear Lurien Honor was the man who fetched ye, that would be ol' Cedric Fierce's company, the Fierce Legion.”

He gestures to the final shield, a medium-sized golden shield with ornate carvings, and bearing the charge of a black raven with its wings spread wide. “The last shield here…that's for the Archon's personal guard. Might take he a while to make it there, but it is worth it to serve with the Archon."

Smith shrugs. “All depends on your preference I suppose. The Blood-Wardens are a find mix of brute force and fine tactics. Even balance of attack and defense. The General is likely the greatest strategist among us, even the Archon will admit he lacks the finesse and keen eye of his wife. The Fierce Legion are as hard-nosed as they come. Very disciplined, but ol’ Fierce was one of them Northern Barbarians. Got a wild side to him. His company is full of berserkers. Wild damage dealers, but they don’t quite have the planning that Fury has. The Archon’s guard, you have to work your way up to. Do right by either Fury or Fierce, and they may just give you a recommendation for the Archon’s guard.”

“Or if you’d rather sleep on it, I have just a plain shield in the back. Not the flashiest thing, but it’ll do the job. Keep yer meaty bits intact. Strong and durable. Fashioned out of blue steel. That’s one of me materials of choice.”

“As for armor…” Smith makes his way to the back room and emerges with two full suits of plate. They should be pretty heavy, but Smith carries them both in one arm as if they weigh nothing. “Nothing fancy, but each of these has some neat tricks. This one…” He shows you a set of shining, silver plate armor. “This helps to keep those casters on their toes. Has a chance to resist magic. This one…” Smith holds up the other set. It appears to be steel but has a strange, blue tint to it. “This one has a chance to reflect damage. Someone gets a good smack in with their weapon, this beauty has a chance to give them a taste of their own medicine. Only works on melee weapons though, bear in mind.”
“So, what’s yer fancy, lad?”
 

Offline Faidth

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Re: The Legion Immortalis: The Bulwark of Heaven (Part 4)
« Reply #134 on: September 26, 2013, 10:36:22 AM »
@ Sembas:

"Make no mistake... The Forsaken are truly as terrible as they sound. Their hearts and minds have fallen prey to the Adversary. But hearts and minds can be changed Sembas. You must remember you are not alone. Lean on your brethren to aid you. If you can, then it is not such an impossible task."

"I admit I know far from everything, but I can tell you what I know. Lieutenant Cauter is Severan's fiercest warrior. His weakness is his love for General Fury. He had always admired her, but as she is the Archon's bride, his yearning for her affection remained unrequited. To this day, I have even seen him demand that the Carnis of Darastae take her form so he may find some small way to be with her."

"For Fortuna, it is her fear of weakness and her lust of power and knowledge that are her bane. I doubt she truly loves Severan, but I know he cares for her."

"As for Severan himself, his greatest regret is striking down the Archon, and his shame bars him from repentance. In addition, I noticed something rather odd. In his journey to conquer the human realm, he avoided a place called Hearthwood Falls. He besieged everything around it, but not that place. Dethys says it was once the home of Severan, and I can't help but to think he is hiding something there."

"I will try to provide you with a more comprehensive list, perhaps upon your return from the Sanguine Fields."
« Last Edit: September 26, 2013, 05:18:58 PM by Faidth »

Offline Faidth

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Re: The Legion Immortalis: The Bulwark of Heaven (Part 4)
« Reply #135 on: September 26, 2013, 05:18:32 PM »
@Sig:

Blood’s face is scarlet at your questioning. “Listen here, hobgoblin… I don’t have to answer to the likes of you! The very nerve of you, questioning me about… about the… uh…ergha” Blood stammers unintelligibly. It is obvious the Captain is at a loss for words and speech has failed her at this particular moment. Whatever has her knickers in a twist, she is obviously keeping to herself.

Calming returns with a sack of some type of indiscernible item.  He glances at Blood, smirks and plops down on the floor beside her. “Well, well, well… Never thought the day I would see Adia Blood at a loss for words. I must admit… I rather like this look on you. You know… The silent, non-abrasive one.”
Blood cuffs him on the back of the head and he winces in pain.

“Ow! What did you do that for?” grumbles Calming.

Blood gives him a warning look, but says nothing. Calming simply rolls his eyes before turning his attention to the bag on the floor.
The barkeep rubs his hands together. “Alright then.” He reaches into the bag and pulls out something that looks like a torch. Strangely enough, it is already lit. This torch is certainly a curiosity. Eerie blue flames dance around Calming’s knuckles as he holds it aloft. What’s more is, despite the fact it is aflame, the bag is perfectly intact.

“This little beauty, makes what is unseen seen,” explains Calming. “I’ve had more than my share of run-ins with those spooky, incorporeal types. They have a way of… sneaking up on you.”

He tosses the torch to you. “This little device belonged to a friend of mine. It is doubly useful. First of all, the spirits have the ability to make themselves invisible. Hold this up, day or night, and it will allow you to see any in the vicinity. Secondly, the Marrow is full of odd twists and turns. Up is down, right is left, above is below, you get the gist. This torch leaves a trail that is visible only to the person carrying it. Shows you where you’ve been, so you can figure out where you are going.”

Offline Faidth

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Re: The Legion Immortalis: The Bulwark of Heaven (Part 4)
« Reply #136 on: September 26, 2013, 05:53:29 PM »
@Fjorin:

Fury watches with curiosity as you trudge through the maze of written words upon the page. As you explain your steady pace, she nods in understanding. “There is no shame in that. Dennan was a rather difficult pupil when it came to reading. To this day, he avoids it whenever he can. Perhaps this is something I can assist you with, Fjorin. You have the makings of a fine general. You’re disciplined, strong, cautious… The only thing you lack is the ability to easily discern words on a page. That can easily be addressed.” 

As you motion for Lai to assist you in this task, you find that her cheeks have reddened considerably. “Spirits have… we don’t have much need for written words. The Forsaken don’t exactly take the time to help us learn.”

Fury shrugs and seats herself across from you and Lai. “As for how Bayard Cael knows so much about the Immortalis, I believe it is a combination of two factors. He comes from a long-line of hunters of the Immortalis. It would not be inconceivable that there is some written record. However, upon consulting with the Divine, I do have another theory.” Fury’s eyes lock on Lai. “I have reason to suspect that the Lady of Shadows may have something to do with his current condition. He was not created by the will of the Divine, and the Adversary can only corrupt that which already exists. He cannot create Immortalis. Alviss the All-Father takes pride in creating, but he forms only his Chosen of Alviss, such as Sig. Thus, the Lady of Shadows is likely the only being I can think of that would have the power to create an Immortalis.”

Fury points to the section on Azazel Punisher. “Now, as for the Death Wounds… Azazel the Punisher. He never made it to Avalon. Severan intercepted him before we could get to him. In life he was an executioner, and a damn good one. But one day, he neglected to fulfill his task. A very fetching noblewoman accused of killing her husband was sentenced to death by beheading. Azazel faltered and assisted her in escaping. Rumor has it the woman was innocent and he guarded the path allowing her to flee. He killed many guards in the process, and as punishment, the king had Punisher decapitated with his own axe. His death wound is located on his neck. He is not a fool and generally guards his wound quite well. Expect enchanted armor over the area.”

Fury points to a second page. “Navar Coward. He is true to his name. When Severan cornered him on the frontlines, he turned tail faster than you could blink. His wound, unsurprisingly, is located on his back, just above his left shoulder. Apparently, as a mortal, he attempted to desert his company. Spear did him in. Went clean through. He wasn’t always such a prat, in fact he showed great potential, but his fear got the best of him.”

“Ravana Blackheart. Her, you will want to take a wide berth from. If she is Fortuna’s pupil, then she will be as her master… a very powerful sorceress. Ravana had a taste of the supernatural. Dethys’s  book states she had great command over the elements. She was another Childer that was intercepted by the Forsaken. Fortuna collected her personally from the gallows. The townsfolk didn’t particularly care for her interest in magic, so they hung her. Her wound is around the neck. Unlike Azazel, she can’t be killed by a well-placed strike. Strangulation would be the only way.”

“Finally… Fortuna.” Fury shakes her head. “There is not a day that goes by that I do not regret her departure from our ranks. There was a time you couldn’t find an Ageless with a bigger heart. Perhaps, that is why she took such a shine to Severan. His fate caused him to become quite an outcast by the harsher judges of Avalon society. But Fortuna… just like I did… just like the Archon did… She saw something in him… Something special. When Severan left, she went with him.”

“In her mortal life, Fortuna was the daughter of a farmer. Their lands were taken by a rather forceful lord, who demanded allegiance in exchange for protection. Fortuna’s father would not swear fealty to him, so the lord burned his crops, his home, and his wife and children with it, Fortuna included. When we found her, she was holding the remains of her dead siblings in her arms. Three children… two boys and a girl. She found her father in the middle of one of the burning fields. He was tied to a post… Made to look like a scarecrow. Because of her wound, there was nothing she could do to save him. She watched him burn. Fire… Fire is Fortuna’s bane.”

Fury shakes her head to banish the memory. “Fortuna’s failing was her fear of weakness. She had determined on that day that she would never let anyone overpower her again. Her lust for knowledge was unquenchable. She was once the pupil of Dethys Night and proved herself to be an exceedingly powerful sorceress. Her power was second to Dethys alone, and an equal match for even Cleo Seer. Had she remained in Avalon, I do not doubt she could have done much good, maybe even convinced Severan to abandon this madness. Instead, she followed Severan and helped him to establish Darastae.”


Offline Faidth

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Re: The Legion Immortalis: The Bulwark of Heaven (Part 4)
« Reply #137 on: September 27, 2013, 05:54:04 PM »
@Fenwick:

Cleo takes you by the hand and walks with you to the abode of Dethys Night. She makes no further attempts to dissuade you from your course of action. She, of all people, understands your need to see your departed loved one, but you sense a certain restlessness within her, likely worry for your well-being.

Soon, Dethys's clockwork abode looms in the distance, and Cleo does not give you the option to deliberate upon whether to enter or not. She does not even so much as knock before she leads you into Dethys's home. Perhaps as Dethys's former pupil she may come and go as she pleases, or perhaps in all her years of isolation she has forgotten simple etiquette such as announcing one's entry into another's home.

As you make your way to the living room, you see Dethys, his long, blonde hair falling over his eyes, with his hands pressed against his eyes. His son, Laertan is sleeping soundly upon the couch next to him. You see no sign of his wife, Caerina, but you hear coughing and restless movements coming from the master bedroom. His hands move away from his face, revealing bloodshot eyes. His gaze, usually piercing, and his irises, usually green, are marred by exhaustion and the same careworn appearance that shrouds his entire face. Ageless do not tire easily, so it is likely that the First Scribe of the Sacred Order has been burning the candle at both ends.

Dethys gestures for both of you to sit, and you see little Laertan begin to stir beside his father. Dethys moves to pick him up, but Cleo swoops in, taking the infant in her arms before it can let out a cry. Laertan snuggles up against the Seer's chest and soundly drifts back to sleep.

"Why don't I leave you gentleman to it? I'll see to the baby," offers Cleo. She disappears from view, heading in the direction of Laertan's nursery.

Dethys is quiet for several moments and evaluates you silently. "I had a mind to leave you bound for at least a good decade, Fenwick. I must be out of my mind to ease your punishment after a single day. I don't think I need to sit here and lecture you about how very moronic and dangerous your actions were. Yet, Cleo seems to believe that your actions are not a result of innate stupidity, but rather a reaction to certain undue stresses. While I sympathize with your struggles, many will come and go in your life, Fenwick. Mortal, Ageless, friend and foe. It is one of the few drawbacks to the immortal condition. We may live forever, but we shall also live to see many die."

"I shall do as the Seer and the General have asked, and I will unbind your powers, but know this... should you ever betray my trust again, or for that matter, any of the Ageless of Avalon, I will see you personally banished from this realm, never to return, and with not another chance. I hazard to say you have far too much to lose, Fenwick, to make such a foolish mistake again." Dethys glances in the direction that Cleo had taken.

Offline Radobe

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Re: The Legion Immortalis: The Bulwark of Heaven (Part 4)
« Reply #138 on: September 28, 2013, 07:55:54 AM »
Siron leaves the back room, obviously satisfied with his rummaging and joins the other two ageless.

"Great Divine! He truly is a whelp! Like a newborn puppy! I hope he's at least trained to go outside..."
Siron replies with a huge smile and a proud tone of voice. “Trained, ready and willing!”

"Whoa, lad!... So, what’s yer fancy, lad?” 

The young knight takes a few moments to look at each piece of equipment the smith has presented to him. He pays special attention to the maces. Picks them in turn and makes a few swings with each. Obviously struggling to decide, he moves on to the armors and leaves the maces for last.

“Heh, nice,” exclaims the young man, as he moves his palm on top of the armor and feels the surface of the blue tined armor. After repeating the same motion on the other armor, he places an arm on his chin and crosses the other under it.“Right, I will take the silver plate armor. I know little to nothing in the ways of magic, so this will undoubtedly help. Plus if it has a chance to stop people from shouting me to my ass I will take it,” he tosses a triumphant look at Corvus, as if he will never toss him on his ass again. “Odds are I might need it sooner than I would like to. Thank you it is perfect!”

Putting the armor aside, he moves to the shields and looks at all of them. “They look marvelous,” Siron says finally after spending a minute with them. “Unfortunately,” the knight gives out a deep sigh. “I have not earned the right to carry any of them. From what I’ve seen so far I can tell they will most likely accept me with open arms, but even for my own peace of mind, I want to know I have down something to deserve carrying one. So for now I will take you up on your offer of a plain shield.” Before he moves back to the maces he stops in front of and looks at the shield of the Blood-Wardens. “I hope when we return, I will pick this one without a second thought.”

“And I am back where I started…” It is clear he is struggling even more than the first time. “Guess I will take this one,” his hand picks up the mace with the smooth end and his eyes focus on the ominous one. “Though the other one can help a great deal to intimidate foes, plus the weight and the characteristics of the weapon would prove tremendously useful, though…” a few scenarios run through the knights head and he makes his pick. “Ok, glued to my hand it is!” Picking it up a thought pops up and he turns to face the blacksmith. “When you say never be disarmed, does that include magical attempts at disarming?”

“Thanks for the weapons and armor, I will make sure to visit again, but next time I do, we are going to the tavern and we are drinking until you tell me all about your finest crafts!” 

Siron waves smith goodbye and he and Corvus head towards the barracks, so that Siron can put his gear in order and prepare for the mission. On the way there the knight opens a conversation with his companion.

“There is something I wanted to ask… Though it might be a bit too personal, so I don’t mind if you don’t want to answer, heck I don’t think I should be asking in the first place, but I know so little I won’t be hesitating to ask,” Siron gives Corvus a quick glance to see his reaction and continues. “The thing is, General Fury mentioned something rather interesting. Well at least I find it interesting,” he quickly corrects his statement. “About yours and Bran’s death wounds and more precisely about the lack of said wounds. So yeah, how does that work? Also can we tell Honor what is happening, I don’t want to keep him in the dark if possible?”
An eye for two, a tooth for a jaw, a hair for a head! Fight to be respected!

Offline Faidth

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Re: The Legion Immortalis: The Bulwark of Heaven (Part 4)
« Reply #139 on: September 28, 2013, 11:40:25 AM »
@Siron:

At your assertion that your armor will keep you from getting knocked on your tail, Corvus snickers. “Do I look like a mage to you? That’s not magic, Siron. Combat Tactics. Nothing magical about it. It’s all about manipulating your foe and your surroundings. I admit, I am not as adept as I would like to be. I know enough to get by, but mom is really the master when it comes to Combat Tactics. Dad, too. Me and Denny know a bit. I know enough that I could probably show you a few techniques if you want.”

When you mention that you hope to earn right to one of the companies, Smith nods in agreement. “A wise decision, lad. Spoken like a true warrior. Either company would probably be pleased to have you, but I think your choice is a sound one.”

When you question your new mace’s power, Smith nods in the affirmative. “Aye, lad. Both melee and magical means. Once that mace is in your hand, nothing will be able to cast it aside, save for your own choice to do so.”

Smith collects your weapons and armor and heaps them into your arms before you depart. “Aye, lad. Come back again whenever ye like. I’ve a mind to find me a new ‘prentice should ye ever wish to learn the art,” says Smith with a wink.

Once you leave Smith’s establishment, Corvus listens as you question his lack of Death Wound. “Well, as for Bran, he isn’t actually an Immortalis. He’s mortal. Just a kid really. Not even 16 yet. As for me and Denny…” Corvus shrugs. “To be honest, we’re a bit of an anomaly even among our own. First of all, you might have noticed the lack of children around here. Generally, Immortalis can’t bear children at all, though that possibility seems to improve if you are intimate with a mortal. Lieutenant Fierce has about half a dozen mortal daughters. In all our history, Denny and I are the only children of Immortalis to become Immortalis.”

“Secondly, the circumstances surrounding our birth were… unusual. Denny will try to tell you he was born first. Personally, I like to thing I got a toe out before he emerged.” Corvus chuckles. “They say we were born breach. Mom and Dad had no idea we would be twins. When we popped out, Denny’s arms were wrapped around me. He has always been very protective of me… even from birth.” Corvus shudders. “Ugh. I don’t like to think about it. How mom managed to push us both out at the same time… Amazing she can even walk.” Corvus gags. “And that’s enough of that.”

“Anyway…. I was about 25 when I just stopped aging. Denny, too. No rhyme or reason to it… we just stopped getting older. Neither of us had ever endured a Death Wound. I don’t know how it affects the rules. Kind of scary sometimes, actually. I often wonder if we are capable of dying, or what the circumstances may be that could finally do us in. Hestia, Dethys, Cleo… Everyone’s tried to figure it out. If Mom and Dad know, they aren’t saying anything. They are the only ones who talk to the Divine directly. If anyone would know, it would be our Lord…” Corvus shrugs. “I don’t know. I guess in the scheme of things it’s not that important. I don’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth. If the Divine thinks me fit to keep me young, there are certainly far worse things that could happen.”

“As for Bran… I don’t know what will become of him. Maybe he’ll be granted the same gift. Maybe he won’t. Mom and Dad have been alive for thousands of years. There’s got to be a reason they have only had three children in all that time. There’s got to be a reason for us, but what it is, I sure don’t know. I worry though… If Bran ends up a mortal and not an Immortalis… Watching him grow old and die while Denny and me stay young… that would be a fate worse than death." Corvus's gaze is downcast. "It's hard enough losing other Immortalis, and they at least have a chance to far longer lives than mortals.”

« Last Edit: September 28, 2013, 11:42:57 AM by Faidth »