Sightles

When the Flames Die

As Gareth ran out of the Tower of the Thistle, the knight from before was gone, the sword he was apparently sharpening in it's exact same position as before, with no sign of the whetstone. When Gareth made it to the Great Hall, and called out, it was obvious that Sir Walden was absent from the Great Hall, his old seat now vacant. Several clanging footsteps approached Gareth from behind, 3 knights of the Order of the Thistle, "What are you doing? What's wrong?" One of the knights demanded, a hand on his sword, while the other two looked around the Great Hall, and all around, looking for a threat that might of sent Gareth into hysteria. All three knights looked very concerned, and worried in the current situation, and eagerly awaited Gareth's explanation for his morose state.

When the Flames Die

After I post, we should wait for everyone else to post their reactions before going on.

When the Flames Die

We don't love it. Well, at least I don't. Lol

When the Flames Die

Epsir said
Oh come on guys we're just getting started.

When the Flames Die

Redwyne stared up at the ceiling, trying to focus on keeping calm, and trying to regain his breathing. It would no doubt prove fruitless, however. He knew better than to hope in this situation. The venom would close his air pipes, and then it would shut down his entire nervous system, then slowly the rest of his vital organs. Redwyne gasped, silently, trying to grab any sort of air he could, but it was no use. Gareth's scream and yells for help easily filled the entire tower, but there was no sound of footsteps coming to the rescue, not even the knight who had directed Gareth to Redwyne's study. Redwyne knew he was likely to die far before the rest of the venom took effect. He was far too old to survive long with a closed air way. As Redwyne's face was beginning to turn purple, he gripped Gareth's wrist as tight as he could with his diminishing strength. As his final moments came upon him, Redwyne couldn't quite believe this was the way he was to die. He always pictured himself dying for his King in some heroic manner, or at least dying with a sword in his hand. "This is no way for a knight to die." Redwyne thought, as he could only imagine what they would say; Sir Redwyne Cole the Morningstar, participant of over a hundred battles, killed in his old age by a snake no bigger than his palm. Redwyne began to convulse slightly, and his grip on Gareth's wrist withered, as his head jerked for a moment. Then, his entire body was relaxed, entirely still and silent. Redwyne's eyes, seemingly glazed over, still stared up at the ceiling.

When the Flames Die

Redwyne paused on the contraption in front of him for a moment, to smile towards Gareth, "I'm sure you won't let any of us down, Mister Harker." Redwyne said. It had been nearly 7 years since the Order of the Thistle had any kind of new membership, knight of squire, and it gladdened Redwyne to see a new member join. He had to make sure his legacy he left behind him as Commander of the Order of the Thistle wasn't one that simply made the Order weaker than what it was. The wooden box in Redwyne's hand clicked, as he began to open, no doubt mechanically operated. Redwyne let out a triumphant 'Finally' as he examined the box, as it opened slowly. Inside the box was a brown snake with yellow spots down it's length, coiled to be no bigger than half the box. In the matter of half a second, just enough time for a horrified look to begin to sprout on Redwyne's face, the snake shot forward, with lightning-like speed, snapping it's jaws on Redwyne's neck. Redwyne gripped the snake with one hand, and yanked the serpent off of his neck, the snake taking a chunk of flesh with it, and threw it across the room. Redwyne bolted up right in his chair, looking from the snake on the far end of the room, to Gareth. A small amount of blood ran down Redwyne's neck, but that's not what worried Redwyne. He had seen the snake before, in his many travels, a snake he had seen during his time in Lyok, known for a extremely venomous bite. Redwyne turned to Gareth, and opened his mouth to give the young man commands, but no words came out. In a matter of seconds, Redwyne's air pipes had closed, and even now he could feel the blood around the wound starting to coagulate from the venom, choking him even further. Redwyne fell to one knee, placing a hand on the round table, staring up at Gareth.

When the Flames Die

Redwyne smiled at Gareth's answer, while turning his attention to the letter in front of him, prying open the sealing, "You'll make a fine knight one day. If you stick true to helping others, and serving our King Bard II, you'll find yourself in very good places, with very good friends." Redwyne said, reaching into the thick brown envelope, pulling out what appeared to be a small wooden box, no bigger than a palm of a hand. Redwyne stared at it curiously, before turning back to Gareth, "The Order of the Thistle will become a better place with you helping, Mister Harker. Just never lose sight of your true self." He spoke, turning his attention to the box, attempting to find a way to open it, "I assume that Sir Walden isn't too overbearing of a personality for you, is he?" He chuckled as he spoke. Redwyne had known Walden for the longest of times, and the two had become quick friends, although the two of them had much more differences than similarity.

When the Flames Die

Redwyne smiled as Gareth introduced himself, taking the letter as he did so, "Mister Harker, it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm glad you decided to become an official squire!" Redwyne spoke, with excitement laced on his voice, "It's good to see youth helping the Order." He added, laying the letter down in front of him, "Please sit, Mister Harker, have a drink." Redwyne motioned with his hand to the already poured glass of apple cider that sat on the table. "So what made you decide to accept the position offered to you?" Redwyne asked, sipping on his crisp apple cider.

When the Flames Die

Redwyne sat in the Commander's study, in a large leather chair, adorned with decorations of Thistles, opting out of his normal armor and instead wearing fairly plain clothes of beige color. In front of him was a large round table with many large leather chairs seated around it, made from some foreign wood that gleamed and shone with no light. On the table were multiple stacks of papers, seemingly strewn about without any order. The papers to all seemed to be adorned with a bright red rose decoration on each corner. Redwyne had spent the majority of the night, and morning, sitting in the room reading papers, and preparing letters to be sent out. Once in a while, Redwyne would catch himself looking up at the many portraits of former Commanders of the Order of the Thistle that adorned the wall, the primary one being Sir Hildebrand the Morningstar, the last Morningstar that commanded the Order of the Thistle, some 120 years ago. Redwyne wondered if he ever had to deal with a situation as Redwyne now had to deal with. A sudden knock awoke Redwyne from his trance, "Come in!" Redwyne called, then proceeded to reach for the pitcher that sat in front of him, pouring himself a glass, and pouring another glass from the extra one that was there. Redwyne glanced down at his apple cider drink, wondering what business came to him now.

When the Flames Die

A knight stood in the same room as Gareth, watching as the young boy clutched his letter, and looked around for someone. The boy was no doubt looking to deliver the message to Sir Redwyne, the only person who had their mail delivered directly to them. "If you're looking for Sir Redwyne, he's at the top of the tower, in the Commander's study." The knight called out to Gareth, with a helpful smile on his face. It seemed that any other Order of the Thistle knight had long left the Tower, or were just leaving, but this knight seemed to stay, and it was evident what he was doing after a moment. A whetstone was in one of his hands, and a blade laid, tipped against the wall, beside him.