MegaOscarPwn — Roleplayer Guild

Fernando Tenorio

"Sickly, sinful, spectacles stand, shuffle, shamble and saunter shamelessly in mine scandalized sight..." the Spanish man spoke out, the boy riding on a horse beside him turned his head around to signal that he clearly did not understand the full meaning of those words that the ex-university student just said, who was clearly writing it down on a piece of parchment paper, whilst the forest opened up slightly ahead of them. The Spanish man was wearing a side-cape and a hat that covered most of his face, although a bit of hair could be seen falling behind his ears, dictating that he clearly wasn't a fan of having it cut short like the rest of his colleagues. His attire was either brown or black, with a holster for his rapier in the belt that surrounded the man's pants and with tight gloves that covered his hands, may that be to secure him from the cold of Northern Europe or any hostiles that may attack on the way.

"Sire, why are you doing this...?" the sickly looking young lad asked, Fernando raising his sight to look at the one who had asked him that, pulling down his feather-adorned hat, sighing very gently. 

"I was not going to let such a youthful and vigor filled chico such as yourself get lost in these woods, I am sure the maidens in the shrine shall take good care of you." and as soon as he was finished, a voice boomed from behind them, seemingly grunting with each step and clearly tired. "Oh, good Seeker, we're nearing the holy site." the supposed scout mentioned as they continued to travel through mountains and mountains of fallen and darkened trees, the silence sometimes broken by the screams of agony of some Decayed, forcing Fernando to put away his paper and notes for a while and keep one of his gloved hands near the hilt of his rapier (or espada ropera), both that arm and weapon hidden by the side-cape he wore: where did he get it? Was it an old relic that his family maintained through the years he spent in prison? More than likely, although knowing the artist's past, it was clear it could have been obtained from other means.

"Sire Fernando, it hurts..." the boy yet again mentioned, with a hint of proper pain and maybe even grief in his almost squeaky voice, slumping down onto the horseback and hugging the strong animal's neck to keep himself on top of it, grunting. "I know it can be hard, boy: in treacherous times like these, one must be prepared to lose anything and everything, if that'll save you to keep going." Fernando's tone was lightly filled with grief, as well, and it was indeed grief: that boy he had been carrying around since he left the burnt up and razed village was a bastard son he had. It was a generic day on the prison of Salamanca, up until the duellist-wannabe received a letter from one of the females he used to try and find inspiration to write about what he desired most, love.

The letter described how she had been hiding the boy for a while, but raising a child without a father in that era was something so mad and unthinkable that most of the village did outcast the poor woman and the bastard, making sure they would not be seen by outsiders or traders that came in there to trade away - but that was a blessing in disguise. The foul creatures of the night paid little to no attention to the small cottage on the outskirts, instead focusing their repulsive fury and hunger in said center, giving enough time for the bastard and the woman to hide indoors until all of it had passed. Fernando did arrive after some final months in prison, although late, seeing as how the village had already been razed entirely and the boy's mother; Sigfried, had fallen ill due to the amount of work that she had to put into protecting her son.

"He does not know..." he could still hear her last words, as she laid in bed while the poet listened to her inquisitively. "Fernando, I b-beg you...save my son - our son, I know there is a good person in there..." Sigfried's last words were those of hope, thinking that the prideful and lustful man that Fernando was truly could become something better in these dark times. Something that would shine a light upon this broken world: may that be through finding the Herald, or through art itself. 

The scout's rough and loud voice woke the Spanish man from his daydreaming, making him look around and hurriedly look if the boy; Carlos, was still in the horse: he indeed was, although clearly tired and mourning in his own little way. "'Tis is it, you shall find refuge and security within these walls - As well as some other activities." the old man slid in as they neared the entrance to the shrine, Fernando taking Carlos in his arms and walking towards one of the maids that attended the newcomers, whilst the scout managed to take a hold of Rocinante (the horse). "I have come, as a Seeker and as a man, to tend to the Vicar's petitions..." and with a very, very light sigh, he announced. "...I, Fernando, have sinned and I shall mend my ways, but for that, I need to ask you something." the poet took a step forwards towards the maiden, looking down at Carlos. "Keep him safe." 

Said maiden nodded with both hands on her lap, bowing very lightly towards the newcomer. "We shall take care of this young and pure soul, Seeker of Light, you may come in and prepare to speak to the Vicar." and without any waiting, she took ahold of Carlos in his slumbering state and took him in as Fernando followed closely, taking off his hat in sign of respect as he entered and took a good look around: he had never been a fan of Churches, all of those talkings about sinning and God's plan were just a way to keep the men and women of this good Earth under control, not granting them the true freedom they deserved. As he entered, Fernando noticed some of the maidens turning towards him, seemingly one of the first ones to arrive towards the shrine. "Such young women...using their youth energy and spirit to help others, I must refrain..." the lust-deprived man thought to himself, the grip on the hat getting ever so slightly stronger before he started to take bigger and bigger steps towards the interior of the dimly-lit and underground shrine, presumably trying to find somewhere to rest.
MegaOscarPwn Member

Daisan No Bakudan - Bite Za Dusto

Status

Bio

Most Recent Posts
