[IC] Knights of The Dawn Covenant: The Longest Winter

[Zelosse]

@Ace of flames01

Bartuc cleaned off his axe with the torn robes of a dead summoner, making attempts to clean off his armor with the same cloth. Blood had splattered his chest plate, the dents could be fixed but there was a large hole where a jagged thorn had cut into him, thankfully nothing internal had been damaged it seemed. Bartuc spread the red ichor across his armor and wiped off everything else.
He couldn't resist letting the stain stay a little longer.
Ruinil had been incapacitated by the toothy maw of the creature, passing out without taking the root so had replaced it into one of his many pouches before seeing to her other wounds. Her blood soaked his clothes and the sight made him sweat, hand instinctively going for the metal container he kept over his heart below his armor. He might not get a better chance.
With great care he removed a metallic box with an ornate locking mechanism on the side. With a few deft movements from his fingers the lock came undone to reveal the contents. An old and faded piece of parchment and 3 metal vials lay within. Two of the three were full, and the parchment was covered with wax paper to prevent it from being destroyed unintentionally.
"Forgive me, beautiful woman. I must." He mouthed silently, removing the lid to the third unfilled vial and gently placed it near one of the bite wounds that still bled and let it flow into the vial. Swiftly putting the lid back on, he sealed away the last vial with the other two and closed the container with a smile that bordered on the crazed.

Bartuc shook his head to clear it from his dementia and returned to the task at hand. Bartuc took out a roll of cloth and methodically wrapped up Ruinils cuts to the best of his abilities. They would stop the flow of blood but little else. She needed attention and quickly, but the mission needed to be finished. Like a father lifting their child he picked up the elf in both hands, cradling her head on his shoulder. It would be another challenge for his weary bones to get her to the keep but it didn't matter. It needed to be done.

[OtomostheCrazy]

Contrary to popular belief among the other knights in the Order, Kaathe was not entirely heartless. He didn't care if someone died or was killed in battle, yes. In fact, he'd probably leave the blame of their death on those who had died for allowing themselves to get into a situation that led them to their deaths. However, he was a knight of the Order, and as such he would help those that needed it...outside of battle, of course.

Cythlla's bear friend, Henry, had agreed that she needed a bit of help treating the dagger wound. Cythlla herself shyly followed up. Kaathe watched as the two sat down, Henry acting as a backrest for Cythlla. The wound on the girl wasn't that bad, but infection and frostbite would make things a lot worse if not treated soon. The effects of that pulse still felt in effect, so asking their white mage to zap the wound away was out of the question for now.

Kaathe looked around, muttering,

"Thanermere, Hm? This time of year..."

For a moment, the dark elf walked away, back to the trees. He bent down, looked for a moment, and picked up a stick and a flower before returning to the shovel-wielding knightess. Kaathe took off his spear and crossbow in order to reach a pack on his armor. From it, he took out a small bowl and a tool that looked as if it would be used to crush and grind things.

He placed the flower into the bowl, and used the tool to crush and grind the flower. As he did, he decided to talk a bit.

"Did you know that this flower I'm crushing only blooms this time of year? It's actually a good ingredient for medicines, and can easily be made into a special ointment. Problem is, the recipe's a bit strange."

Once he finished crushing the flower, Kaathe took out his water pouch and poured a bit into the bowl. Once that was done, he took off one of his gauntlets, and then his dagger after that. He made a cut across his bare palm. He squeezed a bit of his blood into the bowl of water and crushed flower. He took the stick from earlier, and began mixing them all together.

"A knight I knew before taught it to me. The flower, mixed with water and blood, can become a unique ointment that can help heal wounds, and disinfect them in the process."

Once the mixture was nice and thick, Kaathe took off his other gauntlet, and started applying the ointment to Cythlla's dagger-wound. Once it was properly applied, the dark elf ripped off the cloth from his now-exposed sleeve. He tied it around the girl's wound to further ensure that outside influences wouldn't become problems.

He then did the same with to his own palm, using what was left of the ointment, and his other exposed sleeve. While he treated his self-inflicted cut, he looked at the girl and her bear. He grinned softly and chuckled a bit.

"Don't take this the wrong way, Cythlla. We'll all be dead or dying before you know it. Let's try not to rush to the inevitable so soon, alright?"

Once all was done, Kaathe put all his things away, save for the bowl with the small amount of remaining ointment. For. Moment, he paused and had a thinking look about him. Then, he suddenly thought aloud to himself.

"Hm...I wonder what happened to that knight? He was sent with some others to get rid of a rampaging wyvern, and never came back."

@Cuccoruler

[Cuccoruler]

Cythlla looked at the elf, she didn't like any kinds of elves. The fact that he used his own blood for the ointment disgusted her even more. It showed on her face, but thankfully Henry shoved his nose at her reminding her to not insult the one that was helping her. "Uh... Thanks." Cythlla said looking away from him as she said it.

Henry gave a sigh knowing that Cythlla wasn't exactly too fond of elves. "Sorry if she's a bit stand offish towards you, Cythlla had some really bad experiences with Elves in her past. Don't take it personally." Henry said before having Cythlla climb onto his back. "If there is anything we can help you with in return please let us know." Henry said to Kaathe. Cythlla herself had a very pouty face on her as she layed down on Henry. She didn't like the idea of elven blood touching her when she wasn't the one who spilled it.

[ShaggyDoo0]

Glodin nodded to his dwarven comrade, "Then lets make a game of it. Whomever gets the beasts head gets a free drink." Glodin smiled at the younger dwarf before setting his hammer back on his hip and made his way over to the Knight-Captain. "What's next Captain Evelyn? Or a better question, what would you have me do?" As he spoke he stroke his tightly braided beard. "I can't work my craft until we reach Thanermere to repair our equipment for I lack the tools to do so."

[Mega Birb]

Lucien wandered through the remains of what could possibly be the last friends he'd ever see, forming opinions of each as he passed by. He had noticed Cythlla and Ruinil soon after the fight due to their injuries basically screaming out for help, but had arrived after the cuts, bruises and bones were mended. He sighed, now he felt a little bad. While he had taken something of a beating himself, others were in worse condition for various reasons. The cleric then remembered an old battle tactic that he had seen used once during an orc incursion of a small village. A Wall of Flesh, which placed a wall of dead bodies between two buildings to create a funnel into an open area, leaving those who got through to a select few fighters, and the crowd behind the barrier exposed to archers and crossbowmen. "Malevolent, but more than effective in most cases..." He stroked his beard, his inner tactician coming through. "But so much death is required to make one... a last ditch solution, then."

He was back to his opinions, the first and foremost being the young Necromancer that was tagging along with the group. 'She's a masochist, no doubt. Took a dagger straight through her leg and laughed it off... but she doesn't seem too bad, I guess. I might pull the lass away from necromancy a bit, show her some things about restoration.' He laughed at the thought, sitting down on a rock and starting to clean his mace with an aging, gray cloth. Whether the cleric or the cloth was older was anyone's guess.

His thoughts then drifted to Evelyn, the last Templar that outranked lieutenants, and the only one that could possibly fight back against these forces of evil. 'A smart one, she is. Lass'll be the one that saves us all, but she's a hothead, sometimes. If anything will, that will be what kills her.' He'd cleaned most of the blood from his buzdygan, each blade on the head having dulled slightly in the fight. This was not a good week for his equipment.

[TheDarkTemplar]

The path along which the Templars strode, once covered in a layer of pure white, was now bathed in crimson. Scorch marks from magics cast during the struggle, fragments of burnt and torn flesh lay scattered amongst strips of cloth and demon essence. Such pristine beauty of the first snow was transformed into a gory nightmare and all Evelyn had to show for such violence was her injured troops and a mound of dead cultists...it wasn't enough. Though she greatly felt at fault for the current state of her people there was still a great bit of anger within the Knight-Captain. Every muscle in her body ached for combat, to be able to plunge her sword into more of the enemies numbers. Even so, Evelyn kept her composure as she stood beside the Lieutenant. "I'd love to aid you in your mission, Lieutenant, really I would. At the moment, however, I must see to my men. We've come a long way from Starguard and many are injured. Once they've gathered their strength and our business here is complete then we may be able to lend aid. You are welcome to join us on the path to Thanermere, tis not much longer before we reach the fortress", Evelyn didn't stand in waiting for Landeel's response, instead she strode over to where the injured had been moved and carefully examined their wounds. Twas not easy for Evelyn to witness what injuries her fellow knights had sustained. At this point she'd calmed herself enough to her usual persona and guilt began to take hold of her. Had she not charged headfirst into battle the group would not have takr casualties. On the other hand if they did, Landeel might not have survived long enough for a surprise attack to be organized. Sullen, Evelyn gave the order for the wounded to be moved onto the horses and so the group continued on their way to Thanermere.

The sun was barely touching the horizon when the knights arrived at Thanermere. The fort looked like a combination of a cathedral and a castle. Sitting atop a hill it,ugh like Starguard, it overlooked the village which surrounded the base of the hill. The snow topped roofs of the village puffed out pillars of smoke from the chimneys and the lights from within seemed warm and inviting. Thanermere Village appeared to be a cozy little town in the north, unaware of the dangers in their realm. As for Thanermere Keep, it seemed serene to Evelyn. The bright lights from within the grand hall glowed softly against the light of setting sun and the spires looked as if they wished to touch the heavens. The wind blew ever so softly but it's hum could still be heard faint across the land, truly this place was bliss. Approaching the castle gates they were stopped by the watchmen who wore warm smiles on their faces. "Welcome, fellow Templars! What business do you seek at Thanermere Keep?", the watchman asked as he eyed the wounded party members.

"I am Knight-Captain Evelyn Sunderland, I've been sent by Knight-Commander Grathan to bring word of an attack on Starguard to the rest of The Order"

"The keep has crows you may use for such. From the looks of your men, they're in dire need of rest. Enter as your whim, once inside you should speak with Scholar Printh, he'll see to your arrangements here", Evelyn thanked the gateguard before he walked off to order his men to grant entry. A moment later, the heavy portcullis of Thanermere Keep were raised and it's doors opened. They'd made it.

The interior of Thanermere was just as varied as it's exterior. The old castle looked to be as much of a library as it was a military fortification. Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with ancient knowledge as well as contemporary works. The group entered the grand hall which held a great hearth at its center. Tables were placed in a half ring along the walls of the grand hall's far end. At these tables, scholars performed research, soldiers went over important mission papers, and hunting parties were allied here. The Grand Hall of Thanermere was the central hub of activity in the castle. Upon entering the hall a robed man approached with a subtle yet welcoming grin. "Welcome to Thanermere, kinsmen. I see you've come a long way, you've surely suffered the wounds appropriate for such a journey. I'll be sure to have beds made ready for you, as for your wounded, our healers will see to them", the man held out his hand to Evelyn who shook it with what little strength she had left in her. "You have my gratitude Sir Printh. If I may, I wish to speak with you later about the current state of things", despite reaching Thanermere, Evelyn knew their work was far from concluded. This "Dead God" was an enigma which need to be brought to the light. In her mind, perhaps the scholar knew something of this individual.

"Of course, speak with me whenever you are able. In the meantime I should speak with the quartermaster. Farewell for now

Healers came mere minutes after to collect the wounded, carrying them off to their rooms to be healed and tended to. As for Evelyn she sat at one of the numerous tables before removing her helmet. Finally she could rest easy, at least for the moment.

[Cuccoruler]

Cythlla had entered the castle much to the dismay of a few templars. She was known for being shady, and even hated for the magic she practices. After everyone had settled down a bit and Cythlla had her wounds healed she started to walk through the castle. There were a few templars waiting outside of the library seemingly waiting for her. Henry for now was in the courtyard doing his business and relieving himself.

As Cythlla walked closer to the library entrance two of the templars who were waiting for her got a bit closer. "Oh no, you ain't going in there. Not gonna have you stain our library with that magic of yours." One of them said. An elf who seemed to be the leader of this little group spoke up next. "How do we know that your not one of those culists too anyways?" The templar asked. At this point Cythlla spoke up against them. She hated this kind of ridicule. "I'm not one of them, their too unrefined in what they do." Cythlla said trying to act snooty.

After the conversation Cythlla started to walk into the library only to be tripped by the elf and fall on her face. "Not so tough without your bear are you?" The elven templar said chuckling at Cythlla. At this point Cythlla was starting to mutter something under her breath, it seemed to be a spell, or rather a curse. If someone didn't stop her someone was gonna end up hurt, or worse.

[Snarfulblast]

"Hey now is that anyway to treat an ally? Because if that's how you treat your allies then me and you are going to have a bit off a problem." Karl stands nearby back against a pillar. Pushing himself off the pillar he moves over to Cythlla bending over he offers her his hand."Come on friend, take my hand and I'll make sure this fools don't bother you any more. Because I'm pretty sure they haven't seen you in action, because if they had they wouldn't have tripped you." Looking over at the elf he gives him a look that told him not to speak and not to try anything. But the elf ignores that look,"So your going to help that dirty bitch are you? Well then like you said earlier we're going to have a problem!"The elf kicks Karl in the stomach nearly knocking the wind out of him."You really shouldn't have done that." Standing up Karl punches the elf in the face knocking loose some teeth. That's when the rest of the Templars surround Karl and Cythlla.

[Ace of flames01]

Ruinil's eyelids twitched slightly before slowly opening her eyes. Despite most of her injuries were healed; she felt like hell. Her entire body, especially in her upper torso, was sore something fierce and felt almost as if her body had been burned in an inferno of hell fire. However, this was the least of her concerns, she looked up and took a few moments before recognizing Bartuc's face (or at least his helmet). It was stained with blood and had a few dents and scratches but it was still his, just the same.

"Bartuc...? I see... So I didn't die... That or we both died..." She murmured, her voice was quiet and weak. She chuckled a little before continuing, " well... I suppose it doesn't quite matter... I'm just glad that you are here with me..." She smiled softly; her expression held that of warmth, happiness, and just a wee touch of embarrassment. Her crimson eyes glowed faintly for a few moments before ceasing. She looked down trying to hide the embarrassment that hid and lingered in her expression, though she was not very good at it.

It did not take long for Ruinil to realize where they were. They had arrived at Thanmere; with what was left with their brigade of soldiers. However, most, if not all, of them we tired; Ruinil was certainly no exception.

Furthermore, Ruinil was not very fond of this place to say the least. This place was overrun with priests and people of the church. Whom had a mutual feeling of lack of fondness of Ruinil in return. As a matter of fact, the last time she had encountered people of the church; they had tried to preform an exorcism on her (which they ultimately failed at), thinking that she was a demon. And while the exorcism did not succeed, it was still a very painful process for Ruinil ( and eventually the church goers afterwards). Thus she had desperately tried to avoid them at all costs.

Her gaze returned to Bartuc. "May I ask of you a selfish request...? May I please rest in your arms a little longer...? And please... Do not hand me over to those holy men... Please... Their magic is like poison to me... I fear they will try to... Exterminate me..." She murmured, her gaze held pleading, yet still held softness, gentleness, and warmth; and her words were sincere. However, at the same, she kept a close watch of the holy men, from the corner of her eye.

Unfortunately, her gaze did not last long. She was exhausted and in severe pain, and the siren song of slumber was overwhelming her; and she was struggling to resist the tempting call of sleep. Her body relaxed and she snuggled up closely to Bartuc, like that of a child to it's parent, before finally giving into temptation.

[Zelosse]

@Ace of flames01

Badtuc trudged on stoically with his passenger, the miles melted away as the keep came into sight. Not long after, the weary group was within the castle and being told where to find warmth and healing. Bartuc hadn't said a word since taking Ruinil in his arms. He was overcome with a profound sense of grief. Here in his arms could be his whole world, but she would never see him that way. No woman could.

Ruinil spoke softly after a time, dazed and almost afraid. Her eyes pleaded for him to uphold his oath of protecting his fellow templars. The church ran thanermere, that was obvious from all the priests he saw, and it clicked in his head why Ruinil was pleading. She was afraid they would try something just for her heritage.
"rest easy. I will allow none to touch you, but that you will it." She nestled more into his arms and his heart grew heavier still. Ruinil would kill him if she knew.

They guided Bartuc and his companion to a room away from the others, apparently still untrusting of her despite years of loyalty. He thanked them politely and entered the room.
It was clean and had fresh sheets, a simple nightstand and a single bed were the only things in it. Suspiciously, it was also the only room in use in the area. He tried to put it out of mind but the suspicions lingered.
Bartuc gently lowered hero to the bed, she was still in her bloodied armor but that meant nothing to him. "rest easy, little doe." Sleep well he thought to himself. He closed the door and took up position near the opposite wall and crossed his hands to stare at the door. His body aches, his wounds had not been tended, and he had gotten little sleep over the days march, but he never slacked in his duties. Ruinil could not defend herself at the current time. He would stay until she could.

Almost an hour went by uninterrupted before a soft knock on the door came. Ruinil didn't budge thankfully, so Bartuc took it on himself. Not to answer it though.
The door was close to the wall, so when it opened there was a blind spot. Looking in you'd never know he was there. The door opened and he waited silently.
"it is her. The devil child." One man whispered softly.
"We must act now while it sleeps. For the order." The rustling of clothes heralded a more ominous sound. The jingle of armor. "close the door. We finish it and claim her wounds took her." There was a hushed murmur of acceptance as the conspirators began.
Slowly the walked into the room, ignorant of the danger lurking behind the door. As they entered the room he sprung. Too focused on the task ahead, the fools ignored the threat behind them.
The door slammed shut as Bartuc barreled forward, the closest target was armored but surprised like the others.
Bartuc was bloody, his armor was still smeared in demons blood, his helmet was dented and equally splattered. The hole in his chestplate was still clearly visible. He must have looked like a monster.
An expert in close quarters combat, the fight was over before it had a single blade pulled. All 3 were thrown from the room one after the other, the soldier had his fingers broken by a stomp of armored feet, the two priests were missing teeth and one may never see from his left eye again.
All 3 considered it a small price to pay when he told them he would not speak of what he heard.
With a grunt, he closed the door and stood with his back resting on it. His breathing was shallow as blood started to seep from his reopened wound on his chest.
He took out the dried root and began to chew quietly, the numbing sensation coming to his tired body.
None would bother her while he stood.

[Zetsuko]

Landeel accompanied the Knight-captains group back to Thanermere, remaining silent for the trip there. He declined the healer's assistance, he would tend to his own injury later. As they went through the gates he couldn't help but overhear the sentiments on the elf being carried by another Templar, specifically her fears of the holy men of the church the order followed. He separated from the group, letting them tend to themselves and stopping by an initiate training in the courtyard along the way to deliver a sword collected from his fallen comrades and extend his condolences for the loss of the initiate's older sister. Leaving the initiate to his grief he continued past the keep's library noticing the beginnings of a brawl between what he recognized as two knight from Sunderland's group and a few Templars surrounding them. cursing under his breath he walked over and shoved into the circle shouting "Enough! I'll not have this fighting in the keep, break it up you lot!" he stayed long enough to make sure the imminent fight was broken up before walking away without a word.

He found himself up on the wall of the keep. He leaned on the battlement and let his worries fall away as he gazed out over the landscape but his thoughts eventually came around to the day, only for his thoughts to be broken by the sight of a messenger Raven. The thing that caught his eye about it was a small red mark upon it's head, barely visible. He watched as it disappeared into the distance and murmured "Elramon watch over us..."

[Snarfulblast]

"Riiight ok Landeel." Just after Karl lost of Landeel who had to have happened to walk by, Karl grabs the elf and tosses him. Throwing him a short distance away due to the few injuries and him being exhausted from his raging and the little sleep but the fact that he was able to toss a Templar in plate armor was more than enough for the others to realize that fight Karl was a bad idea. Turning to Cythlla he helps her up,"Well now that that's taken care of you can go on into the library. I'll be in the Great Hall if you need help not that you should ever need help. Also this is the most I've talked without being talked to first. No matter, try to refrain from killing anyone it would be a mess if you did." Karl turns and head towards the Great Hall kicking the elf as he walked by knocking him over into a Dark Elf who had been watching the whole thing from the shadows, Karl never noticed the Dark Elf and he wouldn't have cared even if he did. Upon making the Great Hall Karl finds a bench to lay upon, which he does going into a half asleep state.

[Ace of flames01]

Ruinil had woken up to the sound of fighting. However, she laid still and pretended that she was still asleep, and jump in if the fight started to look dangerous. Thankfully, it did not come to that and the fight ended almost as quickly as it had started.

After the intruders left, Ruinil sat up. "... So I was right...." She murmured, she did not make eye contact and her voice held a hint of sadness. In all honesty, Ruinil had truly hoped that her prediction was wrong, but see as how things were now; this was not the case.

Ruinil got to her feet and made her way to Bartuc and stopped in front of him for a moment before kneeling down. She looked down and refused to make eye contact with him as she gently placed her hand on Bartuc's chest. Most people would find Bartuc's current appearance terrifying, however this was not why Ruinil refused to look at him. She cared not of how bloody Bartuc's appearance was, rather she couldn't bring herself to look at him. All she could do was blame herself for Bartuc's misfortune.

"I... I am sorry.... This is my fault... I should have never asked you to protect me... Now you are hurt and in pain because of my request.... I am sorry, Burtuc..." Ruinil murmured, her voice was trembling and filled with grief. As she said this a burning hot, white, light extruded from the palm of Ruinil's hand and spread throughout Bartuc's body. He would experience a great pain for a few moments but that would quickly turn to relief as the light would search out his injuries and heal the them, as well as ease the pain. The remaining wet blood sizzled then quickly evaporated. The spell sh was using was similar to that which had been used on herself prior. However, unlike Karl, Ruinil's magic was much more concentrated and more powerful. Thus having a more extreme effects and side effects.

Once healed, the light faded, however, Ruinil's hand lingered for a bit longer before she removed it. "...I am sorry..." She murmured again quietly, still looking down at the ground.

[Zelosse]

Bartuc cupped Ruinils chin in his hand, the other one removed his dented helmet. He looked forlorn, and was haggard. Those you asked would tell you that he had not slept for more than a few minutes since the fall of Starguard. Despite the helmet, there was more blood on his face and the stubble was growing in thick. Despite the grim look, it was his eyes that showed the opposite. His whole body was on the verge of collapse but his eyes were bright and practically aflame. He wanted to fight, to kill, to slaughter his enemies. No amount of pain could dull that fiery gaze of his.

He spoke softly as he made her look up from the floor. "Never apologize to scum like me." He bit back a grunt as the healing mended his flesh in painful waves but refused to give in to something so trivial. "There may come a time when you must end my life before I do something disastrous.. The blood calls to me. A song that promises me an eternity of blood spilled." Bartucs free hand moved over his heart, though he was actually touching the small lock box located there. "You will outlive all of us, maybe even the order. You should be the only eternity to me." A thousand emotions swirled in his mind, ranging from stoic determination to disgusted at his own self and all the emotions in between. He had taken her blood, and the blood of two others. All of them born from a woman violated by a demon.
What he wouldn't give to live for as long as Dwarves did. As long as Elves did... As long as a demon did.
He looked into Ruinils eyes and felt his ambitions crumble ever so slightly. What would a child born of their union be? Long lived. Strong. Tainted by Bartucs madness. "No.." He pushed her away but without any strength. The one who can use this for good is me. It must be me. For the order, for the good of all, I will be the bearer of this curse.. He thought, as he replaced his helmet and stood taller. "I do what I must." He tried to make it sound like what he said had been for Ruinils benefit and not from his tortured soul. He loved her, he was sure of that now. How painful it would be to lose her forever.

[OtomostheCrazy]

Funny thing about sitting in one place, eventually, people just start ignoring you. It's as if people just see you as part of the scenery. This allows one to witness many things. A knight trying to use pick up lines on a knightess, well-known warriors standing about, and even fights breaking among many people in the area. One such fight actually broke out recently.

It started with a few knights...bullying -yes that's the word- that little girl Kaathe had been traveling with. Then, just as those knights were threatening her, one of the other knights Kaathe had been traveling with for the past week had arrived to defend her. The two were surrounded, and the fight broke out. Not much else to say, really. It was ended just as quickly as it had started.

It was stupid. The reason behind it all was just a bit of anger and suspicion, with a larger than possibly-comfortable amount of hate tossed in for flavor. Honestly, Kaathe didn't see how these knights survived anything for so long...then the dark elf remembered that it didn't really matter in the long run. He couldn't be bothered with idiots that treat other knights like that. They can do whatever they'd like. They'd all die in the end.

Still...watching the beginning of the fight did bring about some old memories. Memories of a time before Kaathe was the person he was currently. Memories of when he was trying to prove his worth in society. Several warriors surrounding him, all with expressions on their faces that indicated that they would show no mercy on his honor. This displeased Kaathe. Memories of old fights and feelings only brought back every bit of pain that he experienced in them. Even the pain from THAT memory. He needed to take his mind off of it, but how?

As if in response to his thoughts, the elf that had started the other fight had been flung over to his feet. Kaathe had to admit, this elf was resilient, if anything. He had just recovered from Karl's attacks, and didn't seem in pain. If anything, he only seemed more angered than before. Still, the guy had attempted to take the life of fellow knights, simply because he and a bunch of others hated the girl.

"What a fool you were, thinking that you'd win with an idiotic motivation like that."

The elf turned to his dark kin, and glared at him. He spoke not a word, though.

"All of it started, because you wouldn't let a little girl into a library." chuckled Kaathe. "Honestly, you all might be the most idiotic of all the knights I've seen or heard of."

Kaathe waited for the elf to try and attack him out of anger...but it never came. The elf just walked off with a sour expression on his face. It was a shame, really. Kaathe was hoping to relive some memories. Still, that worked too, he supposed. After all, it was all worthless.

...Still, Kaathe had to find another way to get his mind off of the memories of his Past life.

[Ace of flames01]

After being pushed away, though it had very little force behind it, Ruinil understood; her company was no longer desired. Thus she stood up, without saying a word, then made her way to the wardrobe and pulled out a clean, plain, simple, white dress, that had short sleeves, and dark cloak made of wool. With a fresh change of clothes made her way back to the door. "excuse me." She replied politely, her voice was cool, yet it hinted a faint sadness and lingering guilt. After Bartuc moved out of the way, Ruinil opened the door then suddenly stopped in the doorway. ".... I will keep apologizing to you until my sins have been atoned for.... And I shall never kill you... Rather I cannot for my heart has chained me down and forbids me from doing so..... And... I never wanted to be born so that I could live for an eternity... That is why I envy humans... Because they are able to live everyday as if it were their last... And it's because a humans life is so short that they can enjoy it.... Because they know they do not have an eternity... However... Knowing I have that... Fills me grief and sadness... Knowing that you will outlive your beloved and children and comrades.... It makes you hate living, that you were punished for being born, for existing.... And it makes you wish that you had never been born to begin with... So please Bartuc.... Cherish your humanity for as long as you are living...." She replied quietly, her was tainted with grief.

With that said, Ruinil left, closing the door quietly behind her. She paused for a brief moment on the other side of the door before continuing to nearest empty room to change and disassemble the braid in her hair (which is wavy and goes down to her lower back). After changing, she returned to her room briefly to her store armor, then left once more to search for Evelyn and the troops.

[ShaggyDoo0]

Glodin marched on with his group in a daze, his mind was back home tending the forge while his body kept his mule walking in formation. He stayed that way until they reached the keep of Thanermere. Glodin quickly dismounted and gave the mule over to the stable master before following the party into the castle itself. He was happy for multiple reasons, though his face didn't really show his feelings. He was alive, able to fulfill his self imposed destiny, and may have new friends.
As Glodin was about to go and find his room an idea came to him and he quickly made his way to Knight-Captain Sunderland.
"My Captain, may I have the honor of repairing your sword? I want to thank you, for if you had not fired that bolt of lightning I would surely have perished that night in battle." He bowed low, the tip of his beard rested on the floor. "I also practice the art of runic carving along with smithing. I have a thought of putting a channel rune onto the base of your blade, allowing you to use your weapon to focus your magics. Or if you would like any augmentation I will do my best to make it satisfactory."

[Cuccoruler]

Cythlla was happy to see that others were helping her. She really had found some good allies. She couldn't be happier with this now. Thanks to Landeel, Karl, and even Kaathe. They had gotten the other templars to leave her alone at last. "Thank you." Cythlla said to them finally showing a sign of gratitude. However after this they may have wished that they had kept her out of the library.

Once inside the Library Cythlla went straight to some research and history books on the dark arts. She had heard alot about this so called "Dead God" and wanted to find out what she could for the others. It was her job as a researcher for the templars after all. Henry later entered the library many of the templars stepping out of his way. Anyone who knew of Cythlla would know of Henry, her loyal familiar.

As Cythlla dived deeper into her books she started noticing some spells that she could mix togeather to create a new kind of familiar. She had remembered the half demon elf known as Ruinil who had gotten hurt pretty severly in the last battle. If she wanted to show her allies her thanks she figured that the best way to do this was to help Runil from getting hurt in the future. Cythlla at this point started to get hard at work, having Henry go to fetch a few materials and put them into an empty room within the castle. After finally getting things ready she sent henry to fetch Runil.

Henry walked up behind Runil and poked his cold nose at her. "Cythlla wants to see you miss Runil. She has something that she believes will be of great help to you in the future." Henry said to Runil. Henry was a large bear, he came up to Runils shoulders on all fours, but when standing on two he was massive.

[TheDarkTemplar]

Standing by the tall windows of the grand hall, Evelyn had a perfect view overlooking the rest of Thanermere. Snow had begun to fall once more covering Thanermere and the surrounding settlement in a blanket of snow. Each flake drifted slowly towards the earth as there were no winds to make their descent harsh or hurried. The moon illuminated the accumulated snow, causing them to glisten in the night as if the moon hovered over the ocean. Evelyn had only visited Thanermere two times before but each time was as memorable as the last, now it seemed this visit would be no different. The sound of fighting could be heard from behind and just as Evelyn was about to walk over the sudden sound of the lieutenant halted her approach.

Just as she was turning her attention back to the window, the sound of a certain dwarf reached her ears. Facing Glodin, Evelyn let out a soft smirk upon hearing the dwarf's offer which quickly turned to a sullen frown. "Thank you, Glodin. I only wish we'd been able to save more souls that day", Evelyn began to clench her fist tightly despite still wearing he gauntlets. Glancing back out towards the window she looked out towards the dark horizon before speaking once more, "I wonder how long this new war will last. From what I witnessed at Starguard, I may not live to see this war's end". Evelyn thought back to the night of the attack. She felt the heat of green fire on her face and the rumbling as the conclave hall collapsed. That night was host to evil in its purest form, unbridled destruction. Sar'than, a name that Evelyn made sure to remember as soon as she learnt it from their cultist friend. Whatever monster this "Dead God" was had to be destroyed, his followers must be hunted down and destroyed if this world was ever to see peace once more. Changing the topic, Evelyn put on a more pleasant face as she asked, "Enough about this, tell me about yourself Sir Stonequarry. Are you surface born or from Uldgorin?"

---

Starguard Has Fallen

The night of the attack, after the battle's end...
The army of the Dead God had claimed victory on this night, the first step in their long campaign against The Order and soon the world. What before was a field of dead Templars and cultists now stood the resurrected dead whose unified screams echoed across the lands. The courtyard was filled with cultists and at its center knelt the surviving Knight-Commanders with Grathan among them. The cultists kicked at them, cursed at them, and threw rocks at them before Grathan yelled back in retaliation, "YOU DISGUSTING WHORESONS! YOU'VE NO IDEA WHAT WRATH YOU'VE BROUGHT UPON YOURSELVES!". As quick as Grathan had spoken another voice boomed back in response, "SILENCE! THE DEAD LORD ARRIVES!". The entire courtyard fell silent. All that could be heard was the heavy metallic footsteps of someone approaching the center of the courtyard. Each step seemed to add to the level of dread every Knight-Commander felt in that moment before the Dead God revealed himself. Sar'than, The Dead God, was roughly seven feet in height as he looked down at the defeated commanders. His armor was black as the darkest night and the spaces between each plate glowed bright green revealing his undead form underneath. His face was not human but that of a horror. He wore the visage of a black skull with green fire coming from his mouth. His eyes were green orbs of light which left ribbons of light hovering in the air as he moved. Not a single sole dare speak for fear of what this being would do to them. Suddenly The Dead God raised his hand, holding his palm towards the sky, and allowing a bright green orb to form in his grasp. With his other hand he raised it towards one of the surviving commanders and in a matter of moments the mans's life essence was torn from him with each passing moment being excruciating agony. Once the deed was done Sar'than raised his orb into the air allowing all his followers to view the new soul that had been added to the collection.

Just then a woman entered the circle, the way she carried herself seemed as though she was above the average cultist which was proven true as she dared to speak without fear of repercussions. "Witness, brothers and sisters! Not even the brightest flames can stand against the glory that is Sar'than! These "Templars" and their false promises of order are nothing to fear! For all those who serve their lord faithfully, they shall find eternal salvation once his work is complete!", the minute the witch finished her speech she turned her attention to Grathan who glared at her with eyes of hate and rage. "You. At the battle's beginning three bolts of lightening were fired by your kin. What was it's purpose?", her tone was harsh as she eyed the commander with contemptuous eyes. Grathan spat at her but missed, however that did not stop the witch from attempting to stick the man with her dagger. Her hand was halted by the large fist of Sar'than who stared at her with stoic eyes before speaking, "These souls belong to me, Cyrena...Krovah, hunt down any heretics who've escaped my wrath", the creature known as Krovah knelt before replying, "I leave at once my Lord!".

Grathan watched as Krovah grabbed a group of cultists with him to go hunt for Evelyn and what men she managed to rally to her mission. Bringing his attention back to Sar'than he noticed The Dead God's hand was aimed at him. By dawn the heads of the surviving Knight-Commanders were hung from the maingate of Starguard Castle.

[ShaggyDoo0]

Glodin stepped over to the window and began watching the snow fall, as his commanding officer had done moments before. He let out a small sigh before he spoke. "I am from Uldgorin, born and raised. My family used to be known for their skill with the forge. That is 'till my brother became head of the house. I'm the only one in the family who knows how to work a hammer and carve runes, thanks to my old man. I joined the order to go out and make a name for myself and bring my family back to it's former glory. Captain, may I ask you a small favor? If I don't make it through to the end of this, and you take down that so-called Dead God, don't let my memory die away."