Current
I just can't. This is too much. Berserk was so influential on so many things that I love. Goodbye, Miura. You'll be missed by many.
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4 yrs ago
Migraines ew
5 yrs ago
Welp apparently discord servers are having some pretty bad Latency issues.
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5 yrs ago
Well I just got my mitts on the Links Awakening remake. Excus eme while I disappear for a weak while I relive my childhood
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5 yrs ago
Migraine killed me today. Posts tomorrow.
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Bio
Hello! Welcome to my little bio.
Not much to say, really. Just a horror game protag that likes writing and playing vidya games when I'm not being chased by the cosmic forces of darkness. (I'm a security guard that works night shifts usually).
Location: Airedale Mid-morning Just inside the forest
Amidst the foliage in an otherwise quiet forest, a small group of men had gathered. Most were rather rough looking, armored in leathers and simple armors indicating likely someone not of actual knightly origin, but rather someone that had simply taken up a weapon and set out to cause either trouble or look for fortune elsewhere.
Normally, one of them would have been chatting up a storm.
Now though, there was dead silence.
"He dodged..."
"It missed..."
"She missed..."
"...Ugh man, I don't need the chorus of failure, thanks!" The woman in question would click her tongue in a bit of annoyance, a look of mild exasperation and resignation forming as bells from the town indicating that their little ambush to take out the watchers quietly failed. "And I just wanted to lay down at the hot springs today and drink the fancy wine we got from the dwarves...guess we'll go meetup with the boss man..."
By the time Fio had made it back into the city proper, the streets had been emptied. The only ones left were the Militia manning the walls and running to their positions. Vyrell had taught them well, it seemed. The only one that wasn't a militia - was the familiar face of Lugh.
"Lady Fio!" He'd wave the small girl over. "Bandits! North gate! Others should be there already!" He was speaking quickly, and more or less what was only needed to get the immediate point across in his opinion. "Lady Luna's informing the Queen!" well, that was that then. What were presumably bandits were attacking the city. Before Fio could ask for further clarification, the young Tuatha would bolt off back towards the ramparts himself.
Following him, Fio would be greeted by the sight of the towns Militia standing atop the wall, Vyrell shouting orders. Really, none of them were trained soldiers. Most were just people that felt like they had to do something to protect the city they now called home. They only took volunteers, of course and the queen at least ensured they had satisfactory compensation.
"Steady men," He'd say to one of the militia near him atop the ramparts. "Just focus on sniping any that come close to the walls." Noticing the young mage approaching, Vyrell would shout the situation to her from his vantage point.
"Lady Fio! Bandits. About fifty of them from what I can tell!" He'd turn his head towards the outside of the walls. "No time to talk, they're almost here! The other knights have already gathered!"
Reinhardt would be the first on the scene, not long followed by Od showing herself. The Unbreakable took the time to position himself for an ambush, using the tall grass of the plains to his advantage. Od, would take a much more defensive stance, peering towards the trees of the nearby forested area to the west, though it would seem most of the bandits were simply attacking from the plains.
Armed with swords, spears, axes, shields...it didn't seem like they favored any type of weapon, nor did it seem they had any specific formation in mind as they'd rush towards the city. No doubt they simply thought a small city like this would be easily taken - not having taken much stock of the rumors it could be assumed.
Reinhardt would get his opportunity. It seemed they were too busy focused on their target, and most weren't bothered with checking the tall grass for traps. No doubt as soon as he'd ambush them, they'd quickly catch on, so he should hopefully make it count.
Running past him, about five would instead seemingly turn their attention to Od, weapons drawn and prepared for a fight. They didn't seem to think she'd be putting up much of a fight. The others, would seemingly be heading for the gate in an attempt to breach it. No doubt letting them in would be ill-advised.
This, would be the scene Fio and Ethelred both find themselves arriving upon.
Fifty decently equipped bandits that didn't seem like surrendering, versus four well armed and skilled knights.
The queens chambers, were indeed where the queen currently was. Everyone had some idea of where it was, within the wood and stone fortress. Getting through the mass of people it was currently sheltering though, proved to slow her down just a bit longer than she'd have likely liked. Her room, was located above the throne room, up some stairs and across a large balcony that she could use to address a large number of people gathered there, if she needed to.
Normally, it was off limits to anyone but the knights.
There was no response upon her initial knock, and the large wooden double doors would open fairly easily. The queens room was surprisingly extravagant when you took her insistence to go for practicality on most other matters. A large, canopy bed with red and gold colored covers, a similarly plush carpet woven from the finest of silks. A few hunting trophies as well as a fire place.
...it would have looked better if her armor, a few clean plates of food, books, and some other articles of clothing hadn't been haphazardly left laying on the floor.
The sight of the queen herself that greeted Luna within, though, was definitely something...excessively unqueenly to say the least.
"Nnnhn?" The queen, was splayed out on the bed in a show if rather incredibly bad sleeping posture. She'd give a yawn in response, lazily waving at Luna as she'd sit up, half asleep. "Vyrell...five more minutes...or bring some mead..." She'd yawn, some of the covers slipping off her body, revealing in fact, she was completely unclothed under them.
"Hm...you want to know about that old legend again? Well, alright! Lets see...where did we leave off last time?"
"Oh, oh, just after the king finished his training!"
"Right right..." His father cleared his throat, motioning with his hands as he'd start speaking, the warmth of the campfire warming the cold Albion night as his mother began cooking dinner. "Well. After the Wise Sage saw to the kings training and teaching, and that he was fit for ruler ship...he gifted the King with a blade. A very, very special blade. A gleaming gold hilt, with a blade that shone with moonlight and could repel the lands curse...but in doing so, the sage left, their job done."
"Now that he was trained and possessed a blade that repels evil - he had to make the land itself recognize him." The woman responded with a kind tone as she'd hand her son and husband freshly cooked meat. "He first ventured to Mt. Sliabh, to earn the blessings of the Tuatha and to seek out some clue from our druids as to what he should, or could do."
"So they told him, "The land already recognizes thee. It is the 'demons within peoples hearts which does not'". So they sent with him their youngest druid, and the king went out into the land - determined to make people recognize him. Along the way, many, many knights would eventually flock under him. Sigurd, the dragon slayer. Gerainth the valiant, the saint of the sword...many other would come and go from his side in these years, but eventually, after gaining the respect, admiration, and acknowledgement of the people - they built a massive castle of gleaming white."
"Alright, alright, that's enough. Your foods going to get cold you two..."
Slowly, the sun rose over the sea, its glistening early morning rays bringing light upon the coastal village, nay, the now coastal town of Airedale. The bustle and sounds of humans waking and starting their day was slowly starting to build. Hammer on steel as the blacksmith set about working. The shouts of woodcutters and loggers as they got to work just outside the towns new walls, cutting trees and carrying them to the sawmill for further expansion. Farmers, land now untouched by the lingering curse of the Betrayed God, getting to work to provide. Guards, recently trained by her majesty starting their patrol of the quickly growing town and the outskirts of it.
The village, this same time last year, was barely getting by. When the Fomorians ransacked it under the command of a terrible half humanoid, half equine beast? There were only a handful of survivors. If it had not been for the queens timely intervention, it'd have been quite literally, wiped off the face of the map. Many people in the northern and eastern lands of Albion, hearing of this, soon came flocking and seeking protection.
Another king might have turned them away, but the Queen? She refused none that sought sanctuary.
Of course, keeping the village safe was no easy task. While within the walls were safe...the outside of it? Well...bandits, Fomorians, Unseelie that sought to be actively malicious. The recently trained militia and knights however, did their best to ensure safety and people were kept alive. Didn't stop an occasional Unseelie from slipping past the cracks, though...
"...so this is the the city that queen's supposed to be in, huh? Looks like a pile of dirt to me, ahaha!" Skirting around the edges of the town, was one such troublemaker. Really, this was probably bad. A single Unseelie by themselves could cause some pretty devastating trouble if they put their minds to it. Usually they didn't go near extremely active towns, but...there were some exceptions.
"Heheheh, lets see...what dumbass can I mess with today." The fey, small as they could be were oft difficult to see unless they themselves wanted to be seen, and this troublemaker was no exception. Flitting behind houses, away from people, across the ground and garden, she was doing a good job of being unseen. For a few seconds, her eyes would linger on what was obviously the largest building - a recent construction. A wooden and stone castle - not the most defensive or glamorous construction, but the queen had demanded it be as such.
She could go there, but something was telling her that it would be a very bad idea.
"Jeez, what in the feywildes are that place-weh!" Just as she had let her attention wander, a feline made an attempt to pounce on what it thought was a flying little pest, causing the fey to spiral off her flight path and slam into the bottom of a lookout tower. "HEY YOU DUMB FELINE! YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHO I AM!? Guh, whatever I don't have time for you. Laters stupid!" The fairy would instead, focus on the lookout tower and the lookout stationed there. She'd quietly fly up, peering over the wall of the lookout tower.
A single human was standing watch, lazily gazing out over the northern plains for any signs of trouble.
"Heheh, a lone human. Peeerfect. Lets see...what curse am I gonna give you. You're life's gonna be miserable from, kehehehe!" Raising her hand, the Fairy would start chanting in an otherworldly, long forgotten language speaking in words that were incomprehensible to human ears. Eyes, glowing emerald. An ominous breeze would blow.
The human's face would scrunch, as if uncomfortable. He'd wiggle his nose, rubbing it a bit as if trying to scratch some invisible itch.
"Ah...AH-CHOO!"
"...wait that's not right-Yeeeek!" Before the fairy could attempt further shenanigans other than giving someone a mildly uncomfortable sneeze, something whizzed through the air, right where the humans head had just been and embedded itself into one of the walls, right where the Fairy's head had just been. A sharp, extremely deadly, arrow. "Nope nope dangerous I'm out not happening bye village of deaaaaaath!"
The man, was similarly sweating bullets.
If he hadn't just sneezed, his head would have been the recipient of that arrow. His face would contort into a frown, scanning the area it had come from. Whoever had done it, must have been an extremely good shot - wait...there! Just over the northern fields!
"...bandits!" He'd shout. His hand would immediately go towards the bell that had been installed on the tower. Almost instantly the other lookout towers situated within the town and on its walls would take up the alarm, too. The militia moved instantly upon hearing the bells and receiving confirmation from one of the Knights that were on duty. Civilians would all rush out of the streets, towards the large keep as the Militia directed them. Shouts of urgency would fill the air as warning beacons were lit with fire.
A white haired young man would calmly walk up the ramparts along with a Tuatha child. In all, the response had gone as well as they could have hoped. It had barely taken five minutes to get the major streets clean of civilians, the western gate closed and the northern gate secured. Some were being stubborn and remaining in their homes, but there was little they could do about that for now.
"How many?" He'd ask simply, eyes scanning the horizon.
"H-hard to say, sir!" A nearby soldier would shakily respond. "We counted at least twenty, but they're moving fast and there's more of them coming over the hills and out of the forests!"
"Hm..." The silver haired boy would narrow his eyes. "...fifty. Fifty and whoever leading them. A simple raiding party? Or organized assault?" He'd exhale, a small smile appearing on his face. "Well, we can figure that out later. The peoples and village's safety comes first. Lugh!"
"Y-yes?!" The Tuatha youth would stand at attention.
"The other knights should have heard that - go make sure they have. Tell them to Assemble at the North Gate quickly if they're not on their way here already. We only have a few minutes before the bandits make their likely assault. Also, tell Lady Fio or lady Lightsword to check on the Queen. I've not seen her up this morning. I get the feeling she'll want to be here for this."
"R-right! On it Vyrell!" The young Tuatha would bolt off, electing not to take the stairs but to vault off the ramparts with surprising skill and dexterity as he'd run through to the most visible spot in the street, hoping to catch the other Knights if they still needed direction and to catch Lunalel or Fio before they headed there themselves.
Alright well, I said I'd let five in and its been a week, so...
@A Lowly Wretch "Od, is your name then? You seem to carry the scent of fairies upon you...Ahahah, a fairy wants to be a knight? Even if you're not one, I'm not in any position to refuse! Very well, I knight thee. Swear upon your honor and name to serve faithfully."
@VitaVitaAR "I suppose having an advisor on magical and otherworldly means would be a good idea. I must thank you for looking after that blade...hm? What do I mean? Well...Its nothing to worry about. You may not be a knight, but I welcome you all the same so long as you swear to serve faithfully."
@Crimson Paladin "Ethelred, Ethelred...hm, the name is familiar, but unfamiliar. Not a family name I am familiar with, then. Still, I have heard of your family and their plight. Now then, swear to serve faithfully and so long as your vengeance is just I will aid you as you aid me."
@Guy0fV4lor "Sigurd? Sigurd?! You're still-Ahem...no, sorry, I just remembered something humorous. You must be the one from house Reinhardt...I have heard a great many tale of you. You carry your families name well...hm, but do I sense the magic of an Elder Beast on you...? Well, so long as you serve faithfully it matters not."
@Pyromania99 "Lunalel of house Lightsword. I have heard quite the tales of your house. I must thank you for protecting the land and living honorably. You will be a fine asset and knight to have at my side. Swear to serve faithfully and no matter what happens, I shall do the same to protect this land."
Everyone has been accepted!
With that out of the way! Hopefully we'll be starting in the next day or two after I finish up some misc. houskeeping and other things
What used to be a small seaside village on a small peninsula, could now be considered to be a fortified town. After it was attacked by Fomorians, the current Queen drove them off with a furious storm, or so the remaining residents say. The village's eastern side meets the Southern Sea, and the land around it is lightly forested with rolling plains to the north.
Its generally a safe region, with few fomorian sightings. However, like much of the land of Albion, large scale crops and farming was not possible until recently - the Queen purified the land through some means, allowing people to actually start agriculture in more than just a few plots of land for a few scraggly crops.
West out of Airedale, is the largest body of inland water in Albion. Known as Hrelskins' Fall, legend has it that it was created when an ice giant was slain, and their blade fell to earth and sunk into its depths, creating a hole in the earth. Others say its where the Ice Giant Hrelskin used to live - in a cave behind the waterfall that filters down into the lake from the mountains to the north.
The lake itself is home to numerous fresh water fish, and the abundant nature makes it an idyllic and otherwise peaceful spot.
If not for the Fey that haunt the forests around it...
The most prominent and productive fishing village in Albion. Once, it was under the Ethelred's family's care, though after their fall they fell under the jurisdiction of Lord Bernard Alistain who now rules through proxies and administrators due to failing health. Known for its milder climate compared to the rest of the Albion. The particular fish that can be found here are a bright crimson in color, and in certain seasons the sheer amount that can be found turn the sea surrounding the village red, hence the name.
The surrounding land consists of forests, that soon turn into sweeping, rolling plains the closer to the Wastes it gets.
Its rumored the old Ethelred castle became haunted after its defilement and abandonment...
The abandoned ruins of the Ethelred families castle and home, sitting forlorn upon a cliffside that overlooks Redwater Point. What was once a bastion of defense and civilization, has fallen into disrepair and silence. A story many a structure and family share in Albion, really.
Still...some rumors say that the ruin isn't quite as dead as it looks. Surrounded on its southern side by sea, and the north by hills and plains, with a small forest upon the eastern coastline where a path leads to Redwater.
The southern sea of Albion. A calm sea, compared to the stormy seas of Nid to the east and the frozen Whispering Sea to the north. It extends from the southern side of the land to the western, though most don't traverse the waters due to the leviathans and potential monsters lurking within if one travels too far from the coast.
Surrounded by rolling plains on all sides, the City of Harzelslack is currently the largest city upon the Albion landmass. Ruled over by king Harzelslack who built and founded the city after dealing with the bandits in the area it is the currently safest and stableist place to live in Albion. While he doesn't claim it - many people consider him to be the current reincarnation of the king.
That is to say, most view Sorcha as the pretender.
Who can really say who is right, here?
The city is peaceful, but the king is known to be something of a tyrant. Broken laws and dissent is met with swiftest and harsh punishments, but loyalty and cohesion is rewarded.
The mystical forest of the elves. Ancient and primeval, with ancient buildings once dwelled in by fey that no longer are inhabited by them...or so most believe. The marble, pristine while buildings are now home to little more than elvish outlaws and overrun with beasts and lesser fairies that were spared the curse from the Betrayed god.
Within, somewhere, lays the Lylmesari city. The last city of the elves.
Named by the Dwarves after an ancient Goddess, the coast is made up of rocky cliffs and snowfields. Many old dwarf ruins dot the land here, and some can even be found as far south as the southern sea. The ruins are incredibly old - and also incredibly taboo for dwarves to venture into lest they incur the wrath of their goddess.
Wild beasts and animals make the place their home, and recently an Elder Beast has taken to stalking the land along with its cult-like followers that worship it.
The only Dwarvish settlement upon the mainland, and the staging ground for many of their raids. A peninsula sticking out into a frigid, frozen sea. Its one of the few places safe from dwarf raiding parties. That is to say, they don't tend to attack or bother non-dwarves here from an unwritten rule of not harming those seeking shelter or protection.
Surprisingly safe.
Rumors exist of other routes to Emain, via ancient tunnels.
The bastion city of the dwarves situation upon three islands. Normally, its surrounded by frigid winds and a sea of ice, with waves as threatening as any fomorian. Normally, its impossible to cross unless you have a dwarvish guide to bring you through the storms.
Once you hit the island proper - its a surprisingly pleasant place. The deep timbre of dwarves singing rumbles the earth and causes the sea to swell outside their walls from deep within the vast tunnels below the islands.
The mountain of Giants which extend high into the heavens. In their language it means 'Root of the Tree.', and in certain tellings of their own history is where the root of a massive, ancient tree once connected this world with that of many others. They were sworn to protect it, but they were betrayed by those of the Ice.
Being as reclusive as they are, most never leave the mountains and their singular settlement upon its slopes, and most humans have no reason to visit. The mountains are exceedingly dangerous, and a number of Elder Beasts call the place home, including the most dangerous of all - Dragon kin. Rumors say a river of Lava flows under the mountain across Albion that feeds into an ancient realm of Demons.
Wastelands are nothing new to Albion. They may come, and go, drying up crops and entire swaths of forests and lands, but the one at the foot of the mountains to just north of Hrelskins fall, is the constant. Windy, grassy plains where nothing can grow. Elder beasts avoid the area like the plague. Fomorians stalk the land, hunting any human unlucky enough to travel here. The air is thick, choked with visible malice that makes ones skin burn even in freezing temperatures.
There is no reason for any human to come to a place so steeped in hatred.
Yet, within the center...people say there is a shrine, that is always empty but always full of fresh offerings.
A vast expanse of snow and ice. The land here is especially cursed - that is, it is so filled with hatred for those that live that the land itself causes the dead to simply rise from the graves. Spiritual grudges will manifest, and the gate between this area and the underworld is especially thin.
A massive frigid Elder Beast of frost and decay stalks the land, seeking to add more to its collection.
The frigid and uncrossable northern sea of Albion. The wind howls constantly, the waves crash upon the glacial cliffs. They say, far, far to the north across the frigid wastes lay a paradisical realm where great kings and warriors are allowed to live in paradise. Some though, say it is a land where both the horrors and miracles of the Endless Night remain untouched by the world and any who travels there is doomed to die there.
All rumors, of course, carried by the wind.
Located at just the end of the Field of ghosts, in the northern most region of the land is Castle Lightsword, home of the Lightsword clan. In ancient times they were warriors and fighters under the care of an Elder Beast. Part of their family was also tasked with guarding the tombs of giants in the plains below.
Still, with remnant powers from the Field of Ghosts nearby and the inherent death-seeped land of the giants graves, dead do raise here occasionally and mystics who seek to further their more darker arts tend to call the place home.
Located south of castle lightsword and to the west of mt. Sliabh, is the graveyard of Giants. Massive stone monoliths indicating where giants rest dot the land. Giants tend to bury their dead in a rather unique fashion - they first cremate the body in a bath of lava, letting their soul return to the mountain. Next, they take the ashes and bones that remain and carry them to their final resting place - giant underground tunnels.
The land itself is marked with ancient runestone tombstones, and littered with warm, hot gyesers that blast boiling water into the air heated from somewhere below. Its a popular spot to rest upon the road should travelers be heading through the area. Aside from the undead, beasts, fey, and fomorians its a surprisingly pleasant place to rest.
That is to say, you probably shouldn't linger for more than few hours unless you have business.
A lake of cool, fresh, clear water situated within a secluded grove within Gaints rest. No one is quite sure of the origin of the name, but it is supposedly where the Old King received the blessing of Heroism and was given a golden blade by a wiseman that would later serve as his advisor and train him to becoming a proper king.
The giants say that the lake is a remnant from the old world and bears the name of a Moon Goddess.
The dwarves refute this, of course. Their Goddess is one of the ocean and heroes, not a lake and her name is Delpithi, not Ithica.
Perhaps its a simple translation error.
The home of the Tuatha. They rarely travel from the mountain, except when a young one now coming of age goes on a pilgrimage to see the world. Intelligent and wielding primordial magics and knowledge, they are often sought after to be advisors and hired by those aspiring to kings or queens. The mountain is off limits to most humans, and aside from it being the place in the entire realm where the curse is the weakest no one knows much about it.
The noble Castle Reinhardt. A mere shadow of its former self. Walls crumbling, unable to be kept up. The only thing they are good at now, is keeping the rain out. Situated as it is...its a good thing the Fomorians and Fey have no interest in such a place, otherwise the few who remain would have been tormented to their demise long ago.
Surrounded on all sides by the Laughing wood, its family was once the one who kept the Fomorians and Unseelie in check around the area, but with their dwindling numbers, the Fomorians and Fey both have grown in number and the effects are most certainly being felt across the land.
For if a habitat is overflowing.
They those without, seek their own elsewhere. Fomorians are no different.
The opposite of Lylmesari, once the home of the Fey, now mainly inhabited by Fomorians and Unseelie. The forest is dark, mystical, and oddly entrancing as if whispering invitations to those inside to get lost, only to laugh mercilessly as they themselves become a permanent resident of the forest.
Its an utter mystery, really, aside from those of House Reinhardt. Anything within the forest is cursed, and partaking of anything will result in an inevitable curse falling upon a human.
The cost of the Laughing wood. Supposedly, an ancient serpent met its end here. Not much is known, but the coast itself is home to particularly terrible and vicious fomorians that inhabit the coastline and caves upon it. Not even dwarves dare to step foot here, lest they fall victim to the Fomorian and Elder beast that lives here.
An elder beast, that is said to have somehow learned to command Fomorians and fey both.
|Glossary|
Wasteland Land afflicted by the betrayed Gods curse. Contrary to popular belief, it does not necessarily mean a land that is nothing but a barren land of hard, dry soil and hills. It can be roughly described as any land that refuses to allow any plants or food to grow aside from trees or hardy, tough shrub that also angers and causes local wildlife to go berserk. Disease, undead, and famine all are common here.
Like seasons, Wastelands can come and go, afflicting land seemingly at random. There is very little that can be done to combat this, but the Tuatha are able to purify land using complex rituals and maintenance.
Wings of Light, Wings of Dark A tale from just after the time of the Betrayed Gods fall. As his now cursed ridden body fell to the ground, his soul was split in twain. From it, the first Dragon Elder Beasts were born. Notably, a terrible dragon of black and a radiant dragon of white. Both, were born from the gods malice towards the creatures that had betrayed him. The black, was utter destruction and hatred. The White, was of righteous divine fury that would judge all as sinners.
The Endless Night When the old world ended, the world was shrouded in endless darkness. Only a fractured moon would hang above the skies, lighting the world against a tide of abhorrent beasts, nightmarish creatures, and soulless husks that had lost their way in the madness of it. Albion would have been wiped clean, had it not been for a single, surviving god. Whatever its reasons were, it protected the humans that had no where else to go, the giants that had remained loyal to it, and the fey and elves that had been cut off from their home. When the sun finally rose upon the world once more, the God desired rest -
But the Elves and Fey were greedy. Seeing the cold, arctic world the wanted more, and realized that if they could use the Gods power themselves, they could likely make Albion much warmer. To weak to directly harm the God, they presented him with a cursed gift. Unfortunately, in turn, they too would be cursed, transforming into hideous monsters themselves.
Perhaps they were just homesick for their green, endless forest.
Colloquially known as the 'Scéal Rí', it is the most prominent legend that exists after the Endless Night, taking place a scant few years after the fall of the Betrayed God and the ending of the Endless Night. It is split into four parts, each corresponding to a different time of the Kings Journey and Rule, and a popular story to tell children, as well as something that simply gives the people of Albion a hope for the future.
The first, tells of the Kings childhood and training under the guidance of a wise sage of the Moon. He traveled around Albion, meeting all the different people as a knight errant. Future knights of various houses, Unseelie fey and Seelie fey. Fomorians, both good and bad. The second, tells of his rise to kingship and the many tales of the knights which served under him up until he was officially crowned king. The third, focuses on the Golden Age - the age in which Albion was considered the safest. The age in which the King Ruled. The fourth, focuses on the betrayal of the king by one of his knights and the subsequent fall of the realm and devastation of Albion that followed.
The Peoples Heart - The dragon of black ravaged the land, bringing curse and destruction, while the dragon of white would devastate the people, bringing divine fury to the beings that had sinned whether they be human, fey, tuatha, or giant. The king, would slay the dragon of black to gain recognition of people along with his knights. No one is quite sure what happened to the White Winged dragon. Some say it recognized the king as pure and just, and would fall into a deep slumber. Some say it blessed the king, before disappearing and leaving Albion in the hands of mortals.
Lunestel Castle - The Lunar Citadel The Castle of White, the Castle of Light, the Throne of the King. When the people of Albion recognized the king, the Giants would build the king a castle. Instead of building it from brick and mortar, they would find a mountain and quite literally, within a week, carve the entire rock into a majestic castle that towered above the land. The castle's location while not lost, few remember where it is, and fewer dare to venture there.
King Arthwys: The eponymous king of the Sceal Ri. The king who held Albions future in his hands. A brave lad that was initially from a village near what is today Ithica Lake with his brother and sister. The very same lake that he would first meet the Sage of the Moon that would lead him to become a king. After all was said and done, he was unceremoniously killed by his most trusted knight, his body so badly burned and torn to pieces barely anything remained of it. His holy sword was lost, though is said to have been enshrined in a place where the Moon meets the Earth by Queen Morgana.
Queen Madwen Morgana Alafan: The kind and loving queen of Albion. Was a simple village girl living in a village near the Laughing wood along with her brother working as a healer and was the one who'd run off the malevolent fey if they bothered the village. Eventually she and the king would fall in love. What became of her after the Kings death is uncertain. Sigurd helped her escape the castle, but after that it is uncertain. Rumors say she pleaded with the moon for Vengeance.
Lady Erahith: A tuatha mage who stood steadfastly by the king, joining him shortly after his training had concluded. Fell in love with Gerainth. She carried his magical sword far, far away so that it wouldn't fall into the hands of the rebels. Supposedly died peacefully, passing the sword down to her children - who some say would still bear the blood of Gerainth.
Lord Regimbald: A human of dubious origins. A wise man with 'eyes which reflected the seas of another goddess'. He joined the king some years after the slaying of the Dragon of Black. His reputation is a bit mixed - considered knowledgeable and insightful of many things, but also possessing a somewhat ill temperament and personality. When the rebels stormed the castle, he was found on the vacant throne laughing before he thus told the rebels the prophecy for the future. Supposedly only one man who saw him that day left the throne room alive.
The Nameless Knight of Betrayal: once of the Knights closest knights and confidants, she led a rebellion against the king. Legend says she was jealous that he would take another woman as his wife. Possessing armor and spear crafted from a storm dragon, she was considered the strongest and most loyal of knights up until that moment. Her true name is only spoken in hushed tones, and most general folks likely wouldn't know of it. Depicted as having a spear made of the corpse of a storm dragon, and wearing armor the color of gold and red. Said to have been slayed by the Dragonslayer, Sigurd.
Sigurd the Dragonslayer: One of the most well known and also popular knights from the tales. Sigurd slayed the dragon Fafnir, gaining incredibly powerful physical ability upon doing so. Supposedly crafting weapons from its body, he went on to become a beast-slayer that defended the land from the likes of many Elder Beasts. A children favorite most of the time. Fiercely fought the traitor knight until he could no longer and was one of the few survivors. He returned to the castle, where it was said he would protect the castle until the new king of Albion would return.
Gerainth the Valiant, Saint of the Sword: the 'Most handsome knight' under the kings command. Supposedly a bit of rapscallion with a habit of being a bit to fond of women, the knight possessed reportedly innumerable magical blades they could call upon at will to pierce foes. Was slain by Isolt the Lion at the edge of the great bridge, giving Sigurd enough time to evacuate the queen and its civilians. Gave his sword to Lady Erahith to protect as his dying wish.
Mathilda the Watchful Star: Not much is known about this knight, her deeds less well known and fewer. However, her importance was no less than any of the others. Possessing a bow made from the mysteries of the Endless Night, it was said she stood atop the tallest tower in Lunestel Castle. Her eyes could see across the entire land, and her bow could rain stars down upon the unsuspecting interlopers who would dare stand against the king. In the end, she could not bring her bow against the King, nor could she bring herself to harm her former comrades. So she left before the final battle, taking a dwarven ship across the northern sea to find solace.
Lord Harzel Alafan: A man who was half brother to the queen, sharing the same father. A serious sort who was cursed to be 'Beloved by the Unseelie' Possessed no remarkable skills other than a sturdy body and was often in charge of more dubious operations under the king and had learned many tricks for dealing with Fairies and how best to kill or placate them over the years. Killed by Waltram, the Champion of the Sun in a duel after Harzel had made terrible mistake. Supposedly his body was stolen away by the Unseelie Queen at the time. Some say she revived him with particularly terrible magic.
The knight he loved would later go on to give birth to a second child...who's descendant would eventually become known as King Harzelslack.
Isolt The Lion A cavalry commander bearing lance and riding upon a horse kin to an Elder Beast. Supposedly an artificial creation by a fomorian who turned against their masters. Possessed incredible strength and speed and a lance that could 'roar like a mighty beast and make the heavens and earth shudder'. Was close friends with the Traitor Knight, and in the end threw her lot in with her. Was wounded by Gerainth in the final battle, but would recover not long after the battle had reached its end. Though her pride and honor were tarnished, she would travel far, far below where not even giants nor dwarves dare to tread to find the answers she sought.
Waltram, Champion of the Sun Often considered a foil to the king. A former ruler in his own right, who possessed a blade similar to the kings, but of Sun and Hope instead of Moon and Portent. Supposedly had the blood of giants, he wielded great strength and honor, and had a penchant for challenging opponents to knightly duels in order to resolve differences. He had been returning to the castle from a Wyvern extermination when he received news of what had happened. Initially he desired to help the king, but would end up in a duel with Harzel where Harzel would be slain. Not realizing the full scope of what had occurred, he'd grow disillusioned upon seeing the body of Gerainth and Margeth and the pure white walls of the castle stained with blood. For once, in his life, the hope he inspired in others vanished and his blade dulled, never to duel again.
He would seek his end among the giants that he called kin.
Princess Margeth Harzel Daughter of Harzel and supposedly a knight he fancied. Was gifted a magical axe by the Tuatha upon her birth, and would later go on to be a knight errant, traveling around the kingdom to solve problems. A bright, spunky and friendly girl by most accounts. Had a tendency to wear full armor and used magic to mask her voice to avoid suitors. However, when she got word that the Traitor Knight was leading a rebellion she hurried back, forgetting to bring her axe.
She was slain by her father in the initial chaotic moments of battle not realizing who she was.
Sir Friedwald, the Beast-speaker: A man from the north, from what is now known as the Field of Ghosts. Unlike most, he preferred life among the wild and the beasts - and supposedly had even befriended several of them. How true it is, is up for debate but it is true he was the first one the king turned to when dealing with elder beasts to see if a more peaceful and less violent solution could be found. For whatever reason, he threw his lot in with the Traitor Knight, using the power of a particularly tricky beast that could travel great distances in instants to sneak past the main body of the kings army and ambush the castle, nearly obliterating the forces before they had a chance to even react. Eventually the remnants of the Kings army would chase him all the way to the north once more, but the beasts of the land supposedly protected him.
As Alasayana's teeth sunk into the flesh of the creature, it let out one final hoot before finally going limp. It merely twitched a few times afterwards, before stillness completely took it. This did allow the goddess to get a sense of the texture of its meat and the possibility of any toxins. The neck meat was definitely fairly tough, but it also did not appear to be poisonous in any way.
Well, not poisonous in any way, then. Even if the creatures were strange and unfamiliar, they could serve as some form of sustenance then. The tough meat might need a bit of tenderizing, though. She was a bit wary of the birds that seemed to take note. Scavengers, most likely. They didn't seem hostile just yet, but no doubt they were hoping for something themselves, that was at least what she was thinking as she'd settle next to the others.
"I had a taste of the creature, Trinneon. Tough meat, but not poisonous or dangerous to my senses." She'd respond to the ocean god. "I'll leave the cooking to you two then." Did she want to say she had no knowledge of how to cook? Well, maybe she could put together something simple but most of her more lavish meals had come in the form of offerings and festivals put together by people on the occasional chance she decided to mingle more directly with mortals. "The meat needs a bit of tenderizing, I think, but it should be fine to serve once skinned. I'll keep watch for now. I should be able to hear anything dangerous approaching."
It seemed the axe man overestimated his confidence.
As the blade pressed against his neck, he’d make a move to pull away, but Nobunaga was far faster and far more dextrous than the larger hunter. The Katana, if she so wished, would easily slice right through the man's neck. His body would instantly go limp, crumpling to the ground with a heavy thud.
“H-he’s dead!”
“Right through his neck!”
“Alright alright!” The three hunters, while seeming mostly unfazed by the death, did seem a bit perturbed by just how easy and how fast Nobunaga had dispatched the larger man. It seemed if nothing else, they recognized someone with actual fighting skills instead of their own skills better suited to hunting and tracking animals. “L-look we’ll talk.”
“The Illuminator can’t normally come to the mortal realm, y’see.” One would begin. “We don’t really know why. Something about it being really bad if he did and the fact that…what was her name again? The one that doesn’t like being spoken about.”
“Rifelshka. The Goddess of the underworld…she doesn’t like it when gods meddle in mortal affairs. Gets real angry. She and the Moon Goddess had a fight once over it.”
“R-right, anyways…so he uses the two Faces he wears. The Old man and the Hag.” The third would continue. “N-normally they’d have stayed put in the temple, sleeping until the Illuminator had needed us. But…it was a long few years ago now? Probably when my father was just a fledgling hunter himself - the Hag was just gone one day. Vanished! The old man woke up later…I think my father said he ranted about ‘one of his terminals being hijacked’.”
“We were told to hunt and find her otherwise some bad stuff would happen. The old man would leave after that, too, but he’d occasionally show up and tell us something else. Soyala has been the only one to really meet with him recently, but the rest of us haven’t seen him in awhile. That’s all we really know. She says Lazhira is the one that is the root of these problems and if we get her we can fix the seal.”
“Dunno anything else, honest.” The first one would say again, raising his hands in a defensive fashion. “The orbs are sort of the key to it. If we can get both of them we could fix it…we only know one key is a crystalline orb but…someone stole it from the temple before we could do anything with it. We thought it was Lazhira, but it doesn’t seem like she has it.”
Well, that was hopefully some helpful information from the hunters. Seemed the root of this whole problem might have been the Hag, Lazhira, and Soyala herself.
“...you’re naive.” The young woman replied, finally pulling down her hood, revealing the rest of her face to Nicholas finally. Two white furry wolf-like ears poked from the top of her head, her mostly pale skin on an otherwise pretty face though, was horrifically scarred on one side as though the entire left side of her face had not only been horribly burned but someone had attempted to take a sword to her head, too having once left a deep wound that left a scar across her cheek.
“Why…even come here if you didn’t intend to?” She’d quietly question, seeming a bit confused. She didn’t seem hostile at least, but she still wasn’t being overly friendly either. The apparent wolf? Girl would quietly walk over to the fireplace, getting a ladle and dipping it into the stew. “But if you…want to know…well…its the Apostles.” She’d say with obvious disdain. “The village…used to worship the Goddess of the Underworld, Rifelshka, but the Apostles…well…they didn’t approve. Turned the village against us and killed my parents…tried to kill me too, but…I was good with…magic.”
…well, she didn’t seem like she was lying and Nicholas didn’t feel in any sort of danger here…well, yet.
“...I’ve used the goddess teachings to just do what they deserve. Not like I’m living…either the villagers will get to me, or the Apostles will…if…they don’t…the Maids will.” She’d fill two bowls as she talked, placing them on the table quietly. “...If you’re not going to leave, then I guess I can let you stay here tonight.”
Well, it was a generous offer, but she did only seem to have a single bed.
Nomura strained against the blow, gripping his fan tightly as he tried to take in the sheer force of the Oni’s strike. The parry had worked, but the strength of his foe had still done a number on the weaker Nomura. Still, he had a good enough gauge of his foe’s strength from that attack. Seeing that a simple strike from the Oni could do that much damage, Nomura at least confirmed the obvious about his foe: Getting directly hit by him should be avoided at all costs.
Nomura didn’t have much time to think on this, however, as the Oni’s jab had almost caught him by surprise. He quickly bent his knees and leaned back, impressively dodging the blow at the expense of the tip of his mask’s beaky nose. The merchant likely wouldn’t have pulled off such a maneuver if not for the various team building exercises he encouraged his followers to undertake in a past life, specifically a game that gauged the rare ability of how low one could go.
Seeing that his knees were already bent and to recover from his currently disadvantageous position, Nomura would spring backwards as he utilized the momentum to perform some sort of flip. Sadly, backflipping was not something a cult leader would normally practice, so as he began his descent, he would pray for a miracle. Luckily for Nomura, he had accomplished the miracle of flight two days ago, so it wasn’t too hard to imagine, taking much less effort to actualize once more as ethereal wings shimmered from his back. The pale man would gracefully land, earning his footing once more with the aid of his wings. He held his fan outward as he shifted himself into a more defensive stance, allowing his empty hand to actually grip his blade as he awaited his opponent to approach.
“Ho. Strong and quick.” The Oni would say, having watched Nomura’s display of both strength and agility. He’d wrap both of his hands around the hilt of the large Katana again. Seemingly intrigued by this human, the Oni rushed forwards with a deep, guttural roar in an effort to seemingly intimidate but it’d do little more than send a few shivers down Nomura’s spine.
The blade cleaved upwards, but this time the Oni would follow it up with a kick, using the momentum to shove his foot against Nomura’s chest.
The rhythm of combat slowly came to Nomura, likened to that of divine insight. The more he fought this Oni, the more he was able to notice his foe’s very movements. Of course, he had been playing on the defensive this entire time, watching and waiting for his foe to make the next move. The more Nomura thought of it, the more he began to see combat similar to how he would go about meeting new people, those he was interested in. It was simple communication skills, the ability to read one’s body language and other non-verbal queues. To Nomura, the lines between combat and communication began to blur.
“You flatter me, truly. But you are mistaken.” Nomura chuckled nervously for a brief moment before his grip loosening ever so slightly. He would appear to falter briefly, as if he was truly shaken by his opponent’s attempt to demoralize Nomura. And why wouldn’t it? He held the advantage in terms of strength and experience. As the brutish swordsman made his charge towards Nomura, it would be rather apparent that his grip on his sword had been abandoned entirely. Nomura’s will would appear to be crushed. If only the Oni could see the look underneath his foe’s mask…
… Of course, Nomura knew that he couldn’t. Otherwise, he would see the deterministic grin underneath. As stated previously, Nomura had a good grasp on reading others down to even the slightest of movements. He was not a trained warrior, so he could not dare attempt to deceive his foe with any standard feint. Instead, he used his lack of training to his advantage, allowing his apparent fear to grant his adversary a sliver of confidence in his next attack, one Nomura would easily see in his movements.
What was left was simple physics. The Oni’s attacks relied primarily on the momentum of his massive blade. All Nomura needed to do was move accordingly. As his opponent approached, Nomura veered to the side opposite of his foe’s rising leg as he quickly shifted the grasp of his fan into both hands before swinging it at the Oni’s sword. However, rather than directly clashing with that steel behemoth like before, he would instead perform a more proper parry, stepping forward and directing both the blade and its wielder slightly off course, just enough for Nomura to hopefully avoid his opponent’s kick.
“I’ve no doubt your strength surpasses mine. As for speed, I only appear faster due to our choice of weapons and differing builds.” Nomura stated as a matter of fact, taking a step closer as his gambit had worked. He would once more focus his magical energy into his arm, like he had done just earlier. However, rather than holding onto the fan, he would let go and pull his arm backward, winding up for an unarmed strike.
“I am not strong, nor am I quick.” It was true. Even if he were blessed with such an astounding body, he was bound by the physical limits of the human form. Instead, he had to rely on the power within himself, to draw it out and actualize it into a tangible form he could use, in order to match the Oni at all. To Nomura’s understanding, in order to use this power welling within him, he had to believe he could accomplish such things. And in this very moment, he believed he could defeat his opponent.
“I merely have faith in myself!” Nomura concluded, launching an outstretched palm for the swordsman’s face. The magical energy within his arm surged forth, once again granting him strength he normally would not have.
It happened fairly quickly.
The Oni’s powerful kick merely met air, the sword was pushed aside, its momentum directed away from Nomura. The Oni was merely grinning as the white-haired man would wind up a blow, perhaps finding some bit of enjoyment in this. Nomura’s palm struck the Oni right across the face in what could only be called the biggest bitch-slap in history.
The Oni’s body would be physically pushed to the side from the strength of the blow. The muscled warrior would, for the briefest of moments, be stunned from the impact…though Nomura’s hand would also now be stinging as though he had just slammed his hand as hard as he could against a massive slab of steel.
Might as well have been what he did smash it again. There was silence as the rest of the Oni seemed to look on in mild shock and perhaps, a bit of awe that would shortly be followed by loud, raucous laughter.
“Hm…” The oni would straighten himself, spitting blood out of his mouth with a grin. “You talk almost as hard as you hit, human.” He’d heft the blade onto his shoulder, extending a hand to Nomura. “Chōhei.”
Nomura stepped back at his attack, momentarily caught in surprise at how effective it actually was. As the adrenaline began to fade, he would then realize just how much in pain his hand was. If not for his mask, the Oni would likely see Nomura wincing in agony. He would look at his hand for a brief moment, actually worried that he had broken a nail.
Of course, all these worries faded away when Nomura had realized he actually “won” the battle, having been snapped out of his worrisome trance by the laughter of the other Oni. He clenched his fist in victory, having properly proved that his resolve would overcome the mere brute strength of these Oni. Nomura would look on to his opponent in question, watching him with curiosity as his hand would extend outward.
“I’d hope so. I do pride myself in my silver tongue, after all.” Nomura would chuckle, before extending his sprained hand to Chōhei and doing his best to mask his pained wincing. “Shigenaga Nomura. You honor me by not underestimating my abilities.”
“Underestimating someone, gets a warrior killed.” The larger humanoid would grab Nomura’s hand, the powerful grip threatening to crush the already likely to be bruised appendage, but he’d “Lady Mie’s already told us to train you.” He’d say. “Good to know we won’t accidentally kill you.” With that he’d release the human from his grip, sheathing the blade at his side as he’d turn and start walking away.
“I think you impressed them.” Mie would make herself known with a laugh of her own. “Haven’t seen Chōhei interested in someone in awhile, either, heh.” She’d pass Nomura a small bottle of what seemed to be some sort of medicinal salve with a grin. “Should help the pain in your hand. The Oni usually train in the evenings or mornings. You’ll be happy to know I’ve told them to drag you there if you don’t show up. If you don’t need anything else though, I have some business to attend to myself.”
She’d walk off, leaving Nomura to find something to do in the meantime himself…assuming he didn’t want to stick his nose into Mie’s business. Perhaps he could get more acquainted with the Oni? Seemed he had their begrudging respect at least, for now if nothing else.
“Lotta help you are.” She’d snarkily reply with a huff of frustration. “Just cuz I hate this job doesn’t mean I don’t know what I’m doing.” Defensive tone aside, the young elf pointed towards some goods that seemed less useful for stabbing and more for cleaning. “Whetstones, oil for blade shining, cloths for cleaning.” Octavia would stand on her hind legs, leaning up on the counter and looking up at Raelzeth, her furry ears just poking above the counter.
“Uh...forging though, uh, definitely not my thing.” She’d somewhat sheepishly admit, before turning her head in the direction of the forge. “HEY DAD!” The sounds of hammer on metal would trail off, a grunt of effort followed by the sizzling of steam as a blade was quenched. A few heavy steps would follow as a Elf that was built more like a dwarf would walk out. Short, at about only five foot five, head full of swept back silver hair, with a full beard that was braided with a few decorations and dressed in full apron and thick leather gloves and boots. The rest of his face seemed covered in soot, ash, or oil. He’d heft the forging hammer over his shoulder.
“Hm? What’s up, Rael? Customer giving you problems?”
“Nah. Guy wanted to know about forging stuff.”
“Anything specifically? Or you want something special made?”
Donovan hopped from the carts with a grunt; his tired eyes newly alight with a noticeably unnatural glow. Cracking his knuckles, the man smirked at his newfound sensation of overall wellness, a far cry from what it had been mere moments before… But he hadn’t the spare time to admire his newfound energy– there was a job to do. Approaching the edge of the gaping sinkhole, Donovan’s luminous disks surveyed what lay below with a scrutinizing gaze. "Hmmmm… Seems weh got th’ best case scenario ere’... Golem seems tah still beh gettin’ power though… But aye don’t recall them stairs bein’ there before… Has someone else been ere’?" he muttered to himself before turning back to the others, "Right then– aye got meh second wind, let’s get tah work! Weh got th’ best case scenario an’ not much time! Eirhild, toss them weapons on tha’ carts an’ come with meh, first thing we’re gonna do es rip out whatever’s still got magic in th’ golem down there. Akando an’ Leannah aye need th’ two ah yah tah watch our backs and guide th’ carts down them stone steps o’er there as aye make em’ traversable."
Wasting no time, Donovan would begin descending the stone steps into the withering garden, bringing his fingers to his lips and summoning his workforce with a high-pitched whistle; putting them to work on chiseling the jagged steps into something the carts could be safely led down.
“E-eh? Well, don’t mind if I do. Oh the scholars would kill to get their hands on this stuff.” Eirhild chuckled, picking up just about as many weapons as her little dwarvish self could carry…which was a lot, in quite honesty likely thanks to a much stouter constitution. She’d toss them haphazardly onto the back of the nearest cart before running over.
“Mhm, leave the lookout to me.” Akando responded. Honestly, the guy looked a little spooked - if the fact he kept looking over his shoulder and the fact he was gripping his spear tight enough to cause his knuckles to whiten were anything to go by. “Be careful down there…this place feels like we shouldn’t be here.”
“Oi…and who are these boyos?” Eirhild would ask as she’d catch up to Donovan. The spectral builders would give a friendly wave to Donovan, as though they were greeting an old friend before promptly getting to work. It’d likely take them a good while - the stairs were really less stairs, and more jagged slabs of rock jutting from the wall forming several steps one could take to the bottom. “They’re workin’ harder than a dwarf after a pint of Rusty Ale and a tavern brawl.”
“Just be careful as we’re approaching the golem, Donovan. I fought the thing briefly on the way out of this place initially, and nearly died from it. Anything still left inside of it could be just as dangerous even now.
Even lodged my spear into it and it didn’t even hesitate for a second….and I would actually like that spear of mine back if we get the chance.”
After calling out to Donovan, Leannah swiftly moved over to the cart Eirhild had thrown the surprisingly large amount of weapons into and began to briefly rifle through the pile as she kept her ears open. The idea was to nab some kind of other sword or weapon that would work most efficiently and fluidly with her own martial capabilities. Something simple to attach to her side or such in the meantime for use in any potential battle.
Indeed, she would have no trouble finding more weapons. Swords, axes, bows, katana…spears even. Seemed enough for her, enough to grab a proper spear to keep on her back, and a proper arming sword to keep at her side respectively. Then after this very short pitstop, she would quickly take her post at the rear with Akando to keep watch. No sense in dawdling around like an idiot this time.
Items received: Ancient Sword: This appears to be a simple arming sword. Well crafted, but obviously aged beyond any recognizable features. The grip on its hilt seems to have once been dyed blue, with the pommel having been engraved with a decorative crest of some sort. When you hold it in your hands, you can feel an odd energy running through it, but you can't begin to guess what they might really be.
Ancient Spear A spear of fine make, if somewhat mundane looking. Its shaft is made of wood, its finishing having eroded away and leaving the wood beneath visible. It is surprisingly heavy in her hands despite her strength, but perfectly balanced. The tip is fairly long, at least a foot in length of sharpened metal. A small groove runs alongside the bottom of the blade towards the tip. When you hold it in your hands, you can feel an odd energy running through it, but you can't begin to guess what they might really be.
Yet turning her gaze to her fellow rearguard, the Bastelian felt that even a human could pick up on how he was acting. White knuckles and tenseness, a seemingly spooked nature, all the signs of a jumpy person. Then again, the only reason she was initially calm at the moment was the fact the golem was not moving and a lot of the crazy stuff looked outright dead. Still, she tried to give a reassuring nod to Akando as she kept her ears and eyes and other senses otherwise peeled for the first whiff of danger.
"Aye Leannah, ah plan to." Don replied over his shoulder as he’d wave back to the worker that had greeted him, before turning back to Eirhild and continuing the descent down into the garden’s remains. "Honestleh, I ain’t real sure what they are lass, aye just know they run off meh own strength an’ magic, have they own tools, an’ do what aye tell em to… As tah how aye learned that wee trick, mebbe aye’ll tell yah sometime. Speakin’ ah work, yeh got a contract with Mie yet? Or yeh undecided how long yer gonna be werkin fer her for?"
“Oh that? She wants the recipe for that Beast bait. That stuff that almost turned me into food.” Eirhild would respond. “Asked her for safe passage north in return for it. Truthfully, I ain’t got any destination in mind. Just would like to be as far away from them mountains as possible. I’m not gettin’ caught up in some dumb conflict cuz some old stone-bearded idiots can’t get along.”
The trip down to the garden was thankfully uneventful. The closer they got to the now wilting garden it’d be easy to see most of the thralls were now withered and as lifeless as it was with their main source of life and influence seemingly gone, and soon their feet would touch wilted, brown grass. The trees were still standing, but the fruit and bark had rotted. That saccharine smell replaced with one that would have made less stout people retch in revulsion. Perhaps, revealing their true nature.
“Ya know, Donovan, was kinda hopin’ you were takin’ me to some mine to look at some pretty jewels. Not some place that smells worse than a barrack.” The dwarf scrunched her nose, walking over to the defunct golem. “This is a mighty fine piece of stonework though…”
Curiously the chest of the golem was open, the inside space just large enough for a human to comfortably sit in. Two slabs of stone were jutting out of its sides, almost like it was covering the hole and was meant to open. The interior was dark, but…oddly mechanical in construction. In fact, if Donovan had any knowledge of such things, it’d look almost like some sort of cockpit.
The only foliage here that were still alive were the vines connected to the golem…if he decided to take a closer look to them, they’d eventually lead him to a bed of flowers, also roughly the size of a human. The same, tarry, coloration and emanating that same, sickly sweet smell. The middle of the bed was a single, large plant, looking more like some sort of flytrap. Most of the vines coming from the golem were coming from it…or perhaps, going to it.
"Sorreh bout that lass, aye know the stench is ah bit nasty but ah’m hopin’ that what we’re pullin out es well worth tha trouble..." Donovan chuckled as he stepped towards the last living growth in this god-forsaken garden, his good-natured smile falling away to a cold sense of dread. Whatever this was… His every sense screamed it was something bad… VERY bad. Even so, the browning at its edges and overall lack of anything seemingly meant to sustain it suggested that the plant had served its purpose… As to what that was, Donovan hadn’t the slightest clue– but regardless, he didn’t intend on letting the accursed thing live. Pulling his hammer from his belt, he extended the flow of the divine energies through his weapon, and brought it down on the last living vestige of demonic filth lurking in the ancient ruin.
Meanwhile, Akando would seemingly relax after Leannah acknowledged him. Perhaps he was glad that some rumordely strong Bastelian was on his side.
“...Bastelian…Leannah,” He’d begin, a bit uncertain. “You two have…been here before.” A simple enough statement of curiosity.
The Bastelian briefly hesitated, but let out a sigh and gave a small nod to the man as she crossed her arms. The golem was already an unnerving sight to her, but she hoped Donovan would have some sense before doing anything big down there.
“We have. Not that we need to tell everyone, but since we’re here it is relevant enough experience. But that story needs to be for later on the way back, after this situation is figured out here hopefully and La-”
Donovan’s hammer would strike downwards, the flat head of the hammer infused with holy might. It would slam into the top of the plant. Its reaction, its pain, and its fury was evident almost immediately. A horrible, ear splitting screech would interrupt Leannah’s words, loud enough to momentarily deafen both Donovan and Eirhild both. His hammer would strike, and injure, but not kill.
Vines would rise from the ground, one aimed to impale Donovan’s face, more, attempting to wrap around his legs and entangle him, while another would attempt to bind his hammer arm in order to stop it from striking again.
“Sages blood Donovan what’d ye do!?” Eirhild would shout, though it’d be hard to hear her over her ringing ears. From above, if Leannah or Akando looked down, they’d see the blue light that had seemingly been a sign of power in the golem, take a darker hue.
"FUCK!" Don shouted as he narrowly avoided the thick vine shooting toward his face, it’s pointed tip carving a deep gash across his cheek as it passed by the side of the man’s head. Even in the milliseconds that had passed, he could feel the demon pushing it’s power into the fallen guardian; its crawling corruption moving to a far more threatening host.
Donovan grimaced as his thoughts raced– he couldn’t cut the roots in time, even if he hit the creature again there was no guarantee it would die, and even if he went for a third swing it’d likely have already taken the golem over… As far as Don could tell; the quickest way to end this damn thing would be from the inside… Make the damn thing rot from the inside out like the rest of this damnable garden.
Even as the vines reached and grabbed for him, Donovan lunged forward into the main body of the plant; his hammer dropping from his grasp as he drove his hands into its mass. Pulling the mana from his left hand, Don created a void within himself and pulled the flow of demonic mana inside him– allowing the resulting ‘pressure’ to drive his own divine energies into the creature through his right hand.
For the barest moment, he’d attached himself as an added blood vessel, parasite to the parasite trying to escape him.
Donovan’s cheek would burn lightly, the wound no doubt tainted by whatever foul blood this creature possessed. So he’d shove his hand into the creatures maw, the fleshy insides squelching as he would sink elbow deep into the corrupted plant mass. First, he would create a vacuum. The foul creatures magic would be pulled in two directions, quite literally stretching itself thin as it struggled to hold onto it - it didn’t seem like it wanted Donovan to have it, but it would create a sufficient void within the plant for Donovan to drive his divine might into.
The creature would shriek again, its body bloating in size as it was forcefully injected with Divine fury. More vines would lash towards Donovan. Instead of merely immobilizing, it was going fully for the kill. Eirhild, seeing what was going on and having some grasp of the situation, was cutting both vines and roots with her blade.
A pained gargle, as the creature would release Donovan, attempting to scramble away, using its own vines to mutilate itself, tearing a part of its own body apart to free itself of Donovan’s gasp.
Hearing Donovan’s rather loudly shouted exclamation, Leannah was cut off from her speaking as she instinctively swiveled about in haste. It didn’t take more than a second for her to start darting to the edge of the pit below, and on sight of the demonic plant trying to flee from a pained-looking Donovan she didn’t hesitate to raise up a hand and let her mana begin to flow. Not as much as the last time she’d performed this little stunt of creating a small, exploding sun of plasma, but enough to form a respectable attack that would not explode as badly as last time. The intent was more like a grenade-level thing, and so without hesitation the feminine feline cut off herself when it reached a certain size and set the spell to blow up before she threw the small ball of destruction as hard as she could toward the fleeing demonic plant.
The desired destination of her thrown magical attack was to land it in front of the thing in the direction it was fleeing, to avoid hitting Donovan, but still close enough that it hopefully couldn’t escape the radius. At least that was the goal. She wouldn’t pause after, however, as right after throwing the attack with all she could muster to do it right Leannah began to try to make her way down to the bottom of the pit in a hurry to get to where Donovan and Eirhild were.
Leannah’s instincts were spot on, at least.
Less power than she had used last time, back in the halls of the Illuminator, but enough to be a tangible threat. The spherical ball of fire would grow to the size of a baseball, pulsing, undulating, wanting to suck in more of her mana to grow bigger it felt like, but it was nothing she hadn’t felt before. It would sail to the bottom of the pit, aimed just a bit in front of the demon plant.
And slam right beside the demon as it’d attempt to evade, only to blast it towards the edge of the circular platform that made up the land here.
“Kkkrrrr…..”
A small, last, pathetic whimper from the plant as it was soundly torched by Leannah’s grenade, burning as it would attempt to drag itself towards the sea below. Donovan himself, by now, would for the most part feel fine after that exertion. His left hand he had used to grab ahold of the demon plant to stop it from escaping seemed to mostly be fine. His hand would throb lightly, tired from exertion, and it was covered in a thin film of tar he’d likely wish to wash off sooner rather than later, but for the most part, it seemed he’d suffer no immediate ill effects from hooking himself up to the demon.
Yet…as he’d pursue the plant, perhaps, what he’d think was an errant thought would intrude on his mind.
“Fatheeeeeer….whyyy…”
A low, droning, hard to grasp thought…but it would be over as quickly as it came, and Donovan wouldn’t be even sure he had remembered or even thought it.
Donovan hefted himself back to his feet as the demon’s frantic retaliation abated; taking up his hammer once more as he’d pursue what was left of the wretched creature before it could escape into the waters below. Launching himself forward, Donavan twisted his grip on his hammer, swinging the pointed end of his weapon down in a final coup-de-gras aimed to pin the burning mass where it was– that it would have no chance of escape before the fire would finish it off.
The demons screeched, a final death rattle as the vines moving it would shudder and convulse until finally, it would lay still, dead. Its body would soon begin withering, turning a shade of light brown and its vines shrinking as life left it. There was nothing else alive, here it seemed. He could still sense little specks of demons far off, if he focused, but they were scattered and likely nothing more than remnants of the things that had once been here.
More importantly though, the golem would remain still and silent, its blue light remaining as such, though still a bit darker than what it originally had been. Just as well, it seemed his lack of focus caused his spectral workers to enter a sort of standby state. Seemed fighting while still having them be active was still a bit beyond him.
Arriving at the bottom, Leannah let out a sigh of relief at seeing the demon plant dead. Just. Dead. Not moving, no golem moving around, nothing but herself and Eirhild and Donovan. She’d beeline it first over to the golem, using her longsword to chop up anything still attached to the golem externally before sheathing it by her side and looking inward. The pilot-style cockpit of the thing was concerning, especially given it was open and no one was inside. The Bastelian grimaced at the thought that someone had been trying to kill them with that thing, though just ‘who’ it could have been was still a mystery…one that would come to bite them in the butt once more if they were unlucky enough.
Part of her worried about Donovan’s own state, and seemed to tug at her to check on him, but as he was the one left standing after that battle it felt slightly less concerning to her in the immediate aftermath than the golem itself. Donovan could perhaps run or get moving as it looked on the surface to her, but if this thing got moving that was not going to be a good thing at all. To that end, the catgirl would begin to examine, scour, and try to study the golem itself. An air of caution would be used as well, but she wouldn’t hold back trying to grasp anything about it that she could for safety purposes. She’d even try to cram inside and look about in there if she could. Then in the end she’d even step out of it, putting a hand on it and channeling magic out to try to get a ‘grasp’ of it, to ‘feel out’ the golem’s structure and such for herself and maybe get an idea of it if that was possible. Anything to try to get the best and most detailed idea about this thing and its parts and such that she could.
Was this all safe to do? She had no idea, but was trying to be careful but thorough. She didn’t want to risk this thing becoming a potential danger yet again if she could help it.
Donovan stared at the slick residue coating his left forearm as the creature finally quivered it’s last– only now realizing what it was he’d thought he’d heard. He chewed his lip nervously, had the creature been referring to him? Or was it instead referring to… Don cleared the thought with a shake of his head; turning the tar to ash with a firm pulse of holy energy.
"Back tah work yew lot!" Donovan hollered at the ghostly workers before turning, and walking to Eirhild and Leannah. "Sorreh bout that. Didn’t think tha’ bastard ad’ that much fight in em’. Erreybodeh all right?"
“It’d have been nice to have a bit of a warnin’” Eirhild responded with a huff, tapping her blade against her shoulder as she’d respond. “I dunno what this thing is or what that was, but it didn’t seem right at all. A plant ain’t supposed to move like that.” At his orders, the spectral workers would finally get back to work, starting to carve a simple, though effectively safe enough path for the carts to get down there with. Akando would peer over the edge of the hole, kneeling by its edge and looking at the three of them, but upon seeing they seemed to be fine would breathe a sigh of relief and turn back to standing guard.
Leannah’s sword would cut through quickly decaying vines easily enough. Without the ‘heart’ it seemed as though the vines were quickly withering as the main body was. The golem itself, thankfully now seemed back to its inactive state. Dormant, sleeping. The interior of the cockpit wasn’t very comfortable, being cramped and she’d have to crouch to even get in. Not only that, there was a distinct lack of many controls. The walls of it were smooth, with only a few what seemed to be levers. More curiously was the obvious wires and tubing that were hanging limply on its interior, that seemed to have once connected to something…or perhaps someone.
It still seemed functional, all things considered.
Stepping out of the cockpit, she’d notice two things. One, a spear that had been lodged firmly in the giant's shoulder, the stony shell having been completely cracked and it seemed some blue colored fluid was now leaking out of it in a slow, steady rhythm in time with the pulsing blue light. She could probably attempt pulling it out if she wished, but it was probably broken or would be in the process of pulling it out.
As she’d place a hand on its stony shell, Leannah would attempt to figure out what exactly this thing was. It was easy enough thanks to her previous practice with magic. Circulating through the apparent mechanical giant, much like a heartbeat. Thick veins and wires of some energy running through it, heavily magical in nature.
All focused on a point on the giant's monolithic shoulders, two giant seeming tanks of whatever was flowing through this creature.
“Well, it could have been far worse if this thing had managed to get moving,” Leannah said to Donovan as he’d approached where she and Eirhild were, casting a glance here and there over to the scottish-sounding man as she tried to study more of the inside of the cockpit of the golem, “Though you should have said something before trying that! I agree with Eirhild on this one. Plus I could have incinerated it faster from afar if you’d called me over! Seriously.”
The curious felinid let out a small huff and a glare at Donovan for a moment after speaking, but then sighed and went back to her own studying of the golem itself.
“Still, it seems this ‘golem’ was actually a magically-powered and mechanized thing piloted by someone. Based on the cramped nature of this I’d assume someone more dwarf sized, or some being made to fit in here to pilot it otherwise. At least based on my own limited knowledge so far.”
“I’m trying to learn more before we try anything else with this, given a demonic plant was attaching itself to it of all things. “
The Bastelian ran her fingers over the levers, not pulling them just feeling them, and would put a hand on each lever and do as she did before: channeling magic out to try to get a ‘grasp’ of it and trace back the levers and wires and tubes to their sources. Also to look them over, take in the details and see if she could make something more of it. What went to wherever else in the golem, what connected to which, the nature of things, etc, was the goal. Likewise seeing if she could grab onto any details or info about the stuff using her magic was something she wanted to try out. Maybe even take a teensy tinsy tiny bit of whatever was in those tanks and try to draw it back into herself to isolate within her body for examination? If that was possible.
Was it possible without hurting herself though? There was only one way to find out!
There were only three levers within the cockpit of the golem. And…well, they didn’t seem to connect to anything important. In fact, they didn’t react magically at all and there was nothing to trace with them. Hard to say what it connected too, but without being able to feel any magical trace within it meant it was completely mechanical in nature.
The tubes, however - the moment she’d touch one, things would seem to just go slightly wrong. Her perspective would suddenly shift, as if she was suddenly looking up at the sky, the sinkhole above them. Any attempts at moving would be met with her limbs feeling impossibly heavy. She couldn’t breathe. Blink. Talk. Scream. Nothing. No movement.
However, it would only last a handful of seconds before she’d find herself being ejected from this view, slamming back into her body with enough force to daze her, the Bastelian’s head swimming in a minor daze.
Dononvan hooked his hammer back on his belt once more as he made his way over to the former guardian of the ancient ruin; narrowing his eyes as he’d carefully examine the ancient machine. "So yeh think et had ah pilot eh? Poor bastard… Who knows ow’ long e’ were that damned thing."
The large man shook his head as he worked around the mech; carefully using his divine energies to scrub away any demonic taint remaining in the relic. "Whoever et were, aye hope they’re dead. Hell, aye’d wager they’d prefer et tah bein bound to ah demon."
As he finished cleansing the ancient machine, Donovan’s eye caught the same cracked shoulder plate Leannah had spotted; a glowing blue stream trickling from the compromised shell in a thin line. Figuring the substance to be the golem’s battery fluid, Don moved to the top of the ancient machine, running his hands gently over its surface; hoping he might find some kind of maintenance release for the stone giant’s power supply.
After eventually getting her senses back about her, and the daze fading, the Bastelian crawled slowly back out of the machine. She put a hand to her head, however, and sat on the ground rather than try to stand up immediately. She tried to stretch her arms and legs to remind herself she wasn’t so immobile as the golem was, nor was she that heavy. Yet the sensations, the very feedback she’d received, was like nothing else. It was a complex machine to be sure from just what little she’d been able to figure thus far on a surface level, but she thought she had the gist of it after this incident as well. The tubes were using magic to control the machine from its perspective, for lack of better words, and mechanical and magical components and parts were both part of that. If the situation had been different she might have admired it a bit longer and wanted to study the ancient thing, though as she looked up and saw Donovan looking for a way to get the golem open the catgirl sighed and did her best to get back up on her feet.
“Probably far longer than you might think, Donovan. Delphiti made this place to perform experiments and learn things. But that can be explained more later. We have to get moving. For all we know someone is already waiting out there for us, ready to pounce.”
With that, Leannah tried to go about helping the man find a way to get the golem open. She’d use mundane methods, as well as the use of her magic to try to trace things back to some point or another. For all she knew one of those levers in the golem was for opening its power source up, but she wasn’t going to just randomly pull on the levers either.
Cleansing the machine was easier than he likely thought. With no source of demonic energy flowing into it, it was easy enough removing the infected parts. Looking for a release on the thing, though, was…well, as far as either of them could tell, there didn’t seem to be any way to release whatever was stored in the tanks. Leannah could sense where the stagnant fluid was flowing, but it was all in a closed system. It seemed like once it had been put in - it wasn’t meant to come out.
However, two large tubes towards the back of the golem - rather inconveniently being the side it was laying on - seemed to be a solid mass of metal just under the surface of its thick, stony plating. An engine of some sort? It was the only thing they had to go on, and It seemed to be connected with the golem’s more mechanical parts at any rate.
Donovan let out a low hum as he inspected what he surmised functioned as the golem’s ‘engine’ as best he could with his limited view. "Did th’ magic make tha mechanical bits not require aneh maintainin?" the man muttered to himself as he unslung his hammer once more; carefully inserting the pointed end in an accessible gap near to the engine– his arms straining as he tried to pry off the stone armor that hid the underlying components.
There was at least a gap big enough to fit the butt of his hammer in…but prying the back of it off was another matter entirely. Stone was already pretty heavy, and whatever it was holding the stone onto the back of the golems’ torso seemed to be altogether not wanting to give way, either. Still, if he kept at it very slowly, ever so slowly, he’d start to feel the thing give way just a little. The stone behemoth’s stony shell would crack and groan, seeming to protest being split open and pulled apart.
Until finally with a loud cracking of stone and blue colored sparks, did a large section of the back of the behemoth would come off and reveal at least, some of the inner workings.
The ‘engine’ was at least tall as Donovna was, and twice as wide. It was shaped a bit like a triangle, made of some seemingly unknown clear, glassy material with a black obsidian colored sphere in the center of it and filled with a familiar blue liquid. The same that they had woken up in back inside those tubes. Two large pipes, coming from either of the shoulders flowed into it - though it was now dormant and not running, one seemed to be for input, the other for output taking the liquid into it and the back out. The interior of the engine seemed to be full of numerous gears, though how exactly it seemed to function would be completely unintelligible for Donovan.
Numerous other tubes flowed into the creatures interior, some large and thick, the others small and delicate looking as though they’d tear at the slightest vibrations. Then this was likely this behemoth's heart and the tubes in its ‘circulatory’ system and this blue liquid its ‘blood’.
Taking a few steps back, Donovan’s brow furrowed as he looked over the internal workings of the ancient machine. Gutting the contraption without breaking anything and losing the magic-imbued fluid was going to take quite a bit of time, and the only person with the proper tools for the job was Eirhild… And after getting the internals out of the stone giant, they’d still need to retrieve the doors from deeper within the prison. "Oi Eirhild, if yeh can– try tah get all them inner bits that’re glowin’ outta this thing without breakin’ anythin’. Aye’m gonna go prep tha next bit.” Don said, briefly turning his head to the dwarf as he’d make his way into what was left of the ancient prison, searching for the door he’d seen in his previous escapade through the ruins.
“Eh? You want me to pull whatever this is out? I suppose I could try…” Eirhild responded with a manner of confusion as she’d take a look at the internals. “What even is this? That blue stuff looks almost like the stuff that comes from the Eye of Urumna back in Azurumnal…” She’d pull a few tools from her belt. “Well, I ain’t sayin no to a challenge. Alrighto then Donovan, I’ll get these hands to pullin that there thing out. You leave it to me.” The dwarvish woman would get to work, a careful and practiced hand looking at the things internals as Donovan would head off into the place to retrieve what he was looking for.
Traversing the underground prison complex wasn’t as difficult as it could have been. A few plant-infested husks were wandering and milling about, but they were easily dispatched without too much trouble as long as he wasn’t surrounded. Heading up the stairs from the flower chamber, he’d arrive on a lower level of the prison - where the doors he were looking for were located.
Thankfully they were still mostly just the same as he had left them. One still fastly shut. Another pried open, now dead roots clinging to the metallic structure. The symbol of serpent and star that was now a familiar sight to Donovan carved into it. An odd sense of…melancholy could be felt from somewhere, but otherwise, nothing would impede him as he’d set to work on his job.
Don huffed a heavy sigh as he approached the ancient seal, laying his hand gently upon its rusted exterior. From within the heavy doors he could sense something similar to Suthainn’s divine power; barely an echo of what the relic once likely held.
He pitied it, really. To see such a work of craftsmanship left unkempt to such a degree nearly brought a tear to Donovan’s eye.
"Don’t yah worreh none– aye’ll take proper care ah yah.”
With a gentle pulse of holy magic the roots entangling the doorway would be reduced to ash allowing Don access to the massive hinges of the heavy door; which he would promptly pry out of the wall. Recalling a small number of workers from the stairs into the ‘garden’, the old architect wouldn’t waste another moment letting such craftsmanship rot away in the dark, and hauled the set of doors out to the others.
By the time he had freed the doors from their hinges, the workers had finished their task. Eirhild and Leannah would roll the carts over. The process of getting the doors down the stairs was somewhat tiring, but all it would require was a bit of help from Donovan’s workers and they’d be loaded up onto the carts and ready to go. They probably wouldn’t notice a little fox having stolen away back on one of the carts, hiding under one of the doors that was propped up on the side of the cart.
Thankfully, there were no other dangers waiting to ambush them.
Sensing that those flanking them weren’t the immediate threat, most of the hunters had turned their attention to the slime, now that they had been made aware of Narkissa’s own ambush, they seemed to be more or less able to defend or deflect the potshots she was making at them. Instead they’d turn most of their attention to the slime creature that was currently assaulting them.
“Trust me, I’m trying!” The girl would shout in response to Narkissa. She’d narrowly avoid getting grabbed by the slime, ducking and rolling across the ground as the slimy tendril would swing overhead, one of the hunters barely able to slice it off before it grabbed them. Soyala seemed to be having no difficulty surviving herself, but the other hunters didn’t seem to be fairing the same. The slime had already seemingly taken out quite a few of them.
Still, with the initial panic wearing off they were making some form of comeback.
Soyala’s eyes narrowed as the creature would lash out further. Being able to form as many tendrils wherever it wanted on its body, made it difficult not only to get close, but to even restrain the beast.
One had to wonder how they had gotten it in the crate to start with.
Still, a hunter would only see this prey as something to conquer.
The huntress would avoid the tendrils, slicing through them as she’d weave her way towards the creature's body. They just had to get close enough to crack the slimes ‘brain’ a bit in order to subdue it. In this case…A tendril she hadn’t seen wrapped around her ankle, pulling the huntress right into the air.
With a snarl, she’d lash out with her spear as she’d hover over the creatures body, and let herself fall. Her spear would be the first to hit the creature, impaling the human part of its gelatinous body on her spear. It screeched in pain, another set of tendrils grabbing Soyala and throwing her off of it not seconds later as the slime started to lose some of its cohesion.
Soyala would roll across the ground, cut, bruised, but otherwise not seeming much worse for wear as she’d get to her feet.
And this, would be the scene Donovan, Leannah, and Eirhild would find themselves coming back too. A ripple of magic in the air felt by most of the magically attuned present, as there was a small flash of light from the obelisk, just barely visible as the group would find themselves standing at a precipice near the cliff edge.
“Stones, what’s goin on here!” Eirhild would shout, reigning in one of the beasts before it simply barreled on through carrying the cart with it. The dwarf would immediately draw her hand to her sword, intending on getting herself involved if she had too.
Lazhira would take the momentary lapse in the slimes senses and the distraction made by Donovan and crew to quickly flee the scene.
"Guh, that was terrifying." Lazhira would say, panting and making an attempt to catch her breath.
And if any good king needs, its an advisor and court wizard. As discussed, she look a-okay. guess we'll just waiting two days or until the final CS is in now.
[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/jjKSxTj.png[/img][/center]
Hello! Welcome to my little bio.
Not much to say, really. Just a horror game protag that likes writing and playing vidya games when I'm not being chased by the cosmic forces of darkness. (I'm a security guard that works night shifts usually).
Have some dancing medjed.
[img]https://i.redd.it/q95hk1tobbv11.gif[/img]
<div style="white-space:pre-wrap;"><div class="bb-center"><img src="https://i.imgur.com/jjKSxTj.png" /></div><br><br>Hello! Welcome to my little bio.<br><br>Not much to say, really. Just a horror game protag that likes writing and playing vidya games when I'm not being chased by the cosmic forces of darkness. (I'm a security guard that works night shifts usually).<br><br>Have some dancing medjed.<br><br><img src="https://i.redd.it/q95hk1tobbv11.gif" /></div>
Danyel
datadogie
The Red Seelie
rush99999
Xiro Zean
Cu Chulainn
Alfhedil
Ojiro Mashirao
Gerlando
Izurich
