//The Valley//
"The Twins damn that muck", Vorec cursed, collapsing a foot from the edge of the swamp. "I could go the rest of my life without seeing water and it would be too soon." You haul yourself from the knee-deep water, smiling. "It wasn't that bad. Remember Valfort?"
"Oh, Gods. That was a right nightmare, wasn't it? Chest deep with nothing but that soggy torch for light, and then that damned mage with his fecking golums," He shudders at the thought as you sit next to him. "Remember what that cow Dame said when we rescued her?"
You turn to him and in mocking tones you say in unison, "'Took ye cunting time, din't ye?'" Birds in the distance scatter at the volume of your shared laughter. You lay back and fall asleep in the sun.
[[You have a dream|The Dream]]
//Wake Up//
You jerk awake, looking around in fear as you sit up. Vorec tends a campfire, the contents of a pot bubbling away. "Finally awake, eh?" He sees your face and comes over. "Are you alright?" he asks.
You struggle to remember the dream you had, the majority of it obscured by the fog of consciuosness. "I think so. I had a dream." You get up, with his hand to steady you, and walk to the fire. You sit as he walks to the packs.
"What happened?" he asks as he brings you the waterskin.
"I can't really remember. But there was a man, and maybe fire? But someone was dead." You rub at your eyes to clear the sleep from them. "I don't know, it's all gone now."
"Don't worry about it. Here, I stewed up that rabbit I dried before the boat." He hands you the bowl and a piece of bread.
You eat, and talk, and the nightmare is soon forgotten.
[[Inspect the packs|The Packs]]
[[Look at your map|The Map]]
//The Dream//
You've never remembered your dreams, at least not for a long while. The presence of fire but it's lack of heat confuse you, so much so that you initially fail to notice the man standing on the other side of it. His back is cloaked and turned to you; an altar is in front of him. On top lays the body of what was once a man; his manhood lays in a bowl at his hip. The Cloaked Man is working at the bodies head, the sound of metal scraping bone exhoing in the space you now both occupy. He pauses, and the noises stop.
"I've never had a visitor", he says, "Never a living one at least." He resumes his work, the sound turning your stomach. "My wards should have stopped all prying, scrying eyes.", he continues, chuckling. "You're either very gifted in the Art, or exceedingly lucky." He exerts a great force, and a crack sounds out. He sets his dagger, a short, angry blade, aside. "Either way, it would appear we are fated to have met." He turns, holding the head with it's face toward his chest. He approaches the flames and thrusts Vorec's twisted, eyeless visage into your face. "Which means you're nothing but more kindling for the pire."
You scream as the mans laughter booms through the inky dark around you.
[[Wake up]]
//The Packs//
Vorec is digging through his pack for a pipe as you open your own and inspect it's contents. You lay each object on your blanket to ensure nothing is missing.
Currently you have:
[[A rose, gilded and cast in iron|The Rose]]
[[A broken shard of silver mirror|The Mirror]]
[[A wetstone, well used|The Wetstone]]
[[A small, delicate book|The Book]]
[[A dagger wrapped in leather and chains|The Dagger]]
[[An old, enchanted map|The Map]]
//The Rose//
You pick up the rose and stare at it's petals fondly. You havn't looked at it recently and are sad to see a light coating of rust in some places. You make a mental note to get it cleaned the first chance you get.
[[Return|The Packs]]
//The Mirror//
You take the shard and look at yourself in it. Your features have never stood out to you, but your armor has always brought you great pride. Plate steel with leather and mail underneath. It's not the best for quick movement, but nothing beats it against the hammering of enemy blows.
Your blade is slung over your shoulder, a plain iron bastard sword, suitable for most fights. On top of this is your shield, a lightwieght crest of leather-backed brass.
[[Return|The Packs]]
//The Wetstone//
Your fathers last gift to you, a charmed wetstone that imbues your blade with minor flame along it's edge. It is warm to the touch.
[[Return|The Packs]]
//The Dagger//
Your mission in this dangerous land. A dagger bound with leather and chains, openable only by the Corvossi scholar you are to meet in Halvhaven. The blade is bound for your protection, and must not be touched or looked at by anyone, save the scholar.
[[Return|The Packs]]
//The Map//
You unroll the tattered vellum and observe the ink twisting across its surface. The entrance to Halvhaven is close, closer than expected. You check the setting sun and examine the map again. "I think we can make it to the Gate before night," you tell Vorec, "but we'll have to leave now."
"Good," he exclaims, "the sooner we get to an inn and a pint, the better."
[[You pack, and set off for the Forest Gate|The Clearing]]
//The Book//
Your mothers parting gift, a small book with an emroidered cover detailing the locations of every Temple of the Anointed in Requiem, as well as the names and stories of the saints associated with each.
[[Return|The Packs]]
//The Clearing//
The forest has thickened since the edge of the swamp. Vorec goes ahead of you with his machete and hacks a path. After almost an hour, you break through into a clearing. You both stand stooped over, catching your breath. Vorec observes the clearing and starts. "What in the Hells is that." You follow his gaze to see an armorclad figure sitting at the end of the clearing.
Vorec straightens up and shades his eyes, "What's he doing just sitting there?"
"How the hell should I know", you say, looking around at the rest of the clearing, "Why don't you ask him yourself."
Vorec shrugs and begins crossing the clearing.
[[Follow him|The Demon Knight]]
[[Look Around|Looking Around]]
//The Demon Knight//
You walk next to Vorec and continue to look around. The valley walls stretch high above you, higher than you think anything should go. You begin to wonder what the valley floor will look like from Halvhaven when you realise there's something strange about the ground you're walking on. You look down at the ground and kneel to touch the dirt. What you find instead is rust. A circle of rust extending right up to the tree line. You dig your fingers into the ground and are surprised to touch metal. With a moments effort you pull up a sword, the blade snapped off near the hilt.
You look back at the ground and a chill passes through you. You see them, not just swords, and not just here; weapons and armor are everywhere, strewn across the ground and rusting in the humidity of the forest.
You pull Vorec behind you as the warrior stands and draws his weapon.
[[Announce your peaceful intentions|The High Road]]
[[Draw your weapon|The Low Road]]
//Looking Around//
The valley walls stretch high above you, higher than you think anything should go. You begin to wonder what the valley floor will look like from Halvhaven when you realise there's something strange about the ground you're walking on. You look down at the ground and kneel to touch the dirt. What you find instead is rust. A circle of rust covering the ground inside the clearing. You dig your fingers into it and are surprised to touch metal. With some effort you pull up a sword, the blade snapped off near the hilt.
You look at the ground and a chill passes through you. You see them, not just swords, and not just here; weapons and armor are everywhere, strewn across the ground and rusting in the humidity of the forest.
You stand and call out to Vorec as the warrior stands and draws his weapon.
[[Run to Vorec|Too Late]]
[[Draw your weapon and tell Vorec to get away|The Fall]]
//Too Late//
Seeing it now, you recognise the style of it's armor. Demon steel, famously used by the nomadic knight orders in Sollon before the eruption of the Golden Peak. It's sword is also Sollon in origin, a long, curved blade designed to slice through whatever it meets; thinking back, it was foolish to assume the sword you had found earlier had merely been snapped.
You take off towards Vorec, the distance between you two seeming to never close. 'He can't fight', you think to yourself, 'he refuses to even hunt, fight me you bastard, fight-'
The Demon Knight plants it's feet and launches forward as Vorec backs away. With the flash of metal in the sun and a surprised gasp, Vorec falls to the ground.
Standing over your fallen friend, The Demon Knight turns his gaze to you, red light pouring from the eyes of his helmet.
[[Try to run away|Bad End]]
//The Fall//
Seeing it now, you recognise the style of it's armor. Demon steel, famously used by the nomadic knight orders in Sollon before the eruption of the Golden Peak. It's sword is also Sollon in origin, a long, curved blade designed to slice through whatever it meets; thinking back, it was foolish to assume the sword you had found earlier had merely been snapped.
The warrior plants his feet and launches foward. With the flash of metal in the sun and a surprised gasp, Vorec falls to the ground.
Standing over your fallen friend, The Demon Knight turns to look at you, red light pouring from the eyes of his helmet.
[[Try to run away|Bad End]]
//The High Road//
You extend your palms in a gesture of peace. "Hello, friend. I am a knight of the Moremir Order. This is my travelling companion. We have business in Halvhaven and have travelled-"
You feel the attack coming before you see it. The Knight's feet plant, and as it launches forward, you dive towards Vorec and push him out of the way. The Knight's blade cuts the air behind your head and you shiver; even just by sound, you can tell how sharp it is. You bark at Vorec to run to the treeline. Drawing your weapon and shield, you turn to face your new enemy.
[[Examine this new enemy|Bearing Down]]
//The Low Road//
You draw you sword and shield. "I am a knight of the Moremir Order, and I have business in Halvhaven. Sheathe your weapon and stand aside-"
You feel the attack coming before you see it. The Knight's feet plant, and as it launches forward, you push Vorec out of the way. The Knight's blade cuts the air behind your head and you shiver; even solely by sound, you can tell how sharp it is. You bark at Vorec to run to the treeline and turn to face your new enemy, your weapon at the ready.
[[Examine this new enemy|Bearing Down]]
//Bad End//
Fear grips you at the sight of this abomination. You turn, knowing your fate was sealed when you entered the clearing. The scream of Sollon steel through iron plate is met with the initial pain of your body being split open, and followed by the confusing experience of seeing your legs splayed two yards away from the rest of your body. As your vision fades, you think of the fire in your dream, the sensation of death screaming towards you. The Demon Knight sheathes his blade and returns to his post.
Your vision goes black, and your armor begins to rust in the sun.
--
BAD END
//Bearing Down//
Seeing it now, you recognise the style of it's armor. Demon steel, famously used by the nomadic knight orders in Sollon before the eruption of the Golden Peak. It's sword is also Sollon in origin, a long, curved blade designed to slice through whatever it meets; thinking back, it was foolish to assume the sword you had found earlier had merely been snapped.
The Demon Knight charges at you again, it's blade swinging upwards toward your face. You swipe your shield across the path of the blade and knock it off balance. Your bastard sword clatters uselessly across the pleated metal covering his chest. Your frustrated curse is cut off as it's fist knocks you away.
You face each other once again as the sun begins to set in the forest.
[[Drop your shield and two-hand your sword|Charging In]]
//Charging In//
You've seen what that blade has done to normal steel; your shield can only slow you down in this fight. You cast it aside and grip your bastard iron in both hands. You charge, catching it off guard. Almost a dozen slashes across it's helm and legs seems to have done nothing. The back of it's hand knocks you away and leaves your head ringing. You shake the daze form your eyes, and look closely at your foe; as he struck you, a gap along his left side could be seen. Looking at it now, though, you see it is more than a simple seam. A band of iron runs down his side, protecting it from direct attacks.
The knight begins to advance as you wipe your bloodied lip.
[[Attack it's eyes|Eyes]]
[[Sweep his legs|Legs]]
//Eyes//
You straighten up as it approaches; you dodge through as it swings, the blade knicking through your plate. It turns and slashes at your side. You parry the blow by hitting the flat of it's blade with your own and use the opening to slash at the eye holes of it's helm. Sparks fly and blood pours from the gnarled steel visage as the Knight screams in pained fury.
Recognising what may be your only chance, you invert your grip on your blade and jam it into the side of it's cuirass. You wrench and twist the layers apart, forcing the blade through. Blood pours out as the Knight's screams grow in intensity, seeming to shatter reality around you. It falls to it's knees, it's sword clattering against the others littering the ground.
You back away and watch in awe as the falls to ground and bursts apart, filled only with boiling, inky blood.
[[Inspect the armor|The Armor]]
[[Inspect the blade|The Blade]]
//Legs//
You straighten up as it approaches; you dodge through it's swings, the blade knicking through your plate. It turns and slashes at your side. You parry the blow by hitting the flat of it's blade with your own and use the opening to tackle into it's chest. It remains standing and hammers it's fists down on your back; you feel the iron begin to cave. As it brings it's fists up for another blow, you wrap your arms around it's leg and yank upward, tumbling it to the ground.
Recognising what may be your only chance, you invert your grip on your blade and jam it into the side of it's cuirass. You wrench and twist the layers apart, forcing the blade through. Blood pours out as the Knight's screams grow in intensity, seeming to shatter reality around you. It writhes on the ground, it's sword clattering away against the others littering the ground.
You back away and watch in awe as the armor bursts apart, filled only with boiling, inky blood.
[[Inspect the armor|The Armor]]
[[Inspect the sword|The Blade]]
//The Armor//
You stand and cautiously approach the armor. The light of the setting sun has caused the blood that once painted it to dissipate into black smoke, leaving the armor clean of whatever evil had once filled it. After gingerly poking at the pieces with your sword, you pick up a grieve to properly inspect it. The steel, darkened by a thin patina, is covered in streaks and swirls, formed by the years-long process of folding and forming used to create each plate. Every piece is backed by what can only be smitheel leather, the tiny scales shining dully in the dimming forest light.
"How fecking mad are you?" You jump at Vorec's sudden appearance. "You're liable to lose your hand or get cursed or something."
"Thanks, I'm fine," you snap at him, "don't mention my saving your ass, by the way. It was my pleasure."
He claps you on the back. "Don't I know it. This is twice I owe you, sir." You snicker as you turn away, but are surprised as he pulls you back around. "I mean it. I almost bit it in Valfort, and what ever this," he says, tapping the armor in your hand emphatically, "was, damn near sent me on my merry way as well."
He looks you in the eyes, the most serious you've ever seen him. "I owe my life to you. And I will spend the rest of my life, if need be, making up for that debt." And before you can react, he pulls you toward him in a hug.
As night finally begins to fall, as the forest grows dark around you, you and Vorec stand together in suddenly awkward silence.
[[Continue your journey|Carrying On]]
//The Blade//
You stand and cautiously approach the blade. The light of the setting sun has caused the blood on the ground around it to dissipate into black smoke, leaving the sword clean of whatever evil had once filled it. After gingerly poking at it with your own sword, you pick it up to properly inspect it. The steel, covered with a dark patina, is covered in streaks and swirls, formed by the years-long process of folding and forming used to form the blade. The grip is wrapped in silk and what can only be smitheel leather, the tiny scales shining dully in the dimming forest light.
"How fecking mad are you?" You jump at Vorec's sudden appearance. "You're liable to get cursed or lose your hand or something."
"Thanks, I'm fine," you snap at him, "don't mention my saving your ass, by the way. It was my pleasure."
He claps you on the back. "Don't I know it. This is twice I owe you, sir." You snicker as you turn away, but are surprised as he pulls you backa round. "I mean it. I almost bit it in Valfort, and what ever this," he says, tapping the blade in your hand emphatically, "was, damn near sent me on my merry way as well."
He looks you in the eye, the most serious you've ever seen him. "I owe my life to you. And I will spend the rest of my life, if need be, making up for that debt." And before you can react, he pulls you toward himself in a hug.
As night finally begins to fall, as the clearing and surrounding forest grows dark, you and Vorec stand together in suddenly awkward silence.
[[Continue your journey|Carrying On]]
//Carrying On//
"That was a bit much, that." Vorec says as he pulls away.
"Oh yeah" you say, taking a sudden interest in the ground. "We should, er, get to the Gate."
"Right, right. Hate to see what bumps about out here at night."
--
After a hushed argument (and a brief roll of some dice) you hand your iron plate to Vorec, and don the Solloni armor. After some thought, you hand your sword to Vorec ("Keep it sharp, and keep it close."), and strap the demon steel blade to your hip. A quick check of the map, and you both set off towards Halvhaven.
[[The Camp]]
//The Camp//
After an hours trek through the forest (the last fifteen minutes of which in near-complete darkness) you emerge into a a man-made clearing. Two uniformed guards are aiming bows at you, while two others stand with swords and shields at the ready.
Before you can say anything, Vorec calls out, "Oh, fuck off you cunting, low-browed twats. If we'd wanted to take you, we'd wouldn't have come lumoxing about, let alone from the front of your little post."
You stare at him as he throws his pack on the ground. "Lower your arms, and point me to some water, before I put my newly plated boots to your asses, aye?"
A moment of near palpable tension passes before they humor him. "You two heading to Ha'ven?" One of the swordsmen steps forward, sheathing his sword. He motions toward one of the others, who steps forward and walks with Vorec toward a small well. You step forward in turn, and extend your hand to him. "Indeed. I'm a Moremir Knight, sent here on business on behalf-"
The guard locks eyes with and flinches away from your hand. He begins to ask, fear in his voice, "Where..."
"We came across a knight in the forest, an abomination in armor. If you give us some time, I'd be glad to tell you the tell."
"No. If you've killed that thing, then Sir Jersig will be needing to hear the tale first." He points toward Vorec and the other knights, "Get some water and do as my men bid. I need to send word ahead to expidite your arrival." He holds a hand up at your inquisitive gaze. "You'll see soon enough, knight."
As he hurries to a small field table, you turn to take in the clearing.
[[Examine the clearing|The Gate]]
//The Gate//
The clearing is very nearly a room, the thick of the forest laying almost flush with the ornate brass pillars erected in the five corners of the clearing. Looking up, they fade into an inky black sky. Ahead of you, a ring of stone chairs set into the ground marks the senter of the clearing.
"Bizarre setup they've got. They seem strangely excited about that little encounter of ours, as well." Vorec has once again snuck up on you, taking pleasure in the small jump it illicits from you. "Think we'll be able to get some ale in town?"
Before you can answer him, a guard tentatively approaches you. "I'm sorry to interupt, sirs, but we have to be going soon. Please place your packs inside the circle, and take a seat.
You stare at him, confused. "I'm afraid I don't-"
To your disdain, he interupts you as his captain did before, "We don't have the luxury of time, sir. Please, take your seats."
You shrug, and do as you are told. You look towards the captain to see him yanking on a chain hanging from, seemingly, the sky itself. After three brisk tugs, it sails upward, a bundle of parchment tied to the end. The discombobulation of this seemingly impossible event is only intensified by the high pitched horn that sounds what feels like mere moments later.
The guards rush to the centered seats, and before you can ask the one seated next to you what's happening, a slab of marble crashes down, landing along the edge of the clearing.
"The Hells take us all", Vorec cries, his further profanities drowned out by four more slabs, falling down, sealing you in. A second horn sounds, longer than before.
"Ascension in the count of four!" the captain calls out, swiftly follwed by another, deeper call.
"Three!", he calls, the sound of metal cacaphoning down from above.
"Two!"
"ONE!"
The world seems to lurch around you as the platform lifts from the forest floor and you ascend to the city of Halvhaven.
[[Halvhaven]]
//Halvhaven//
Your stomach heaves again as the platform slows at what is presumably the top of whatever hell you seem to have found yourself in. As the platform jerks a final time, Vorec falls forward out of his seat and vomits; the murmer of stymied laughter echoes lightly off the marble walls.
The wall in front of you rumbles as it lifts up to reveal a dozen guards, all uniformed, all armed and alert. A man in ornate plate armor walks forward, clearly in charge.
You rise to meet him; he, as the captain had, ignores your outstretched hand and looks you up and down, his grey eyes bright in the torchlight. "You are the Moremir Knight who felled the Demon Knight." He does not ask; you don't think this man has ever felt doubt in his life.
"Sir Jersig, I take it." you say, dropping your hand. "Will you be taking turns hearing the story, or can I tell it to you all at once?"
He ignores your quip and orders your bags to be taken. "I am indeed Jersig, Commander of the Halvhaven Guard. I will hear your tale, knight. But not until you've had your fill of food and drink and rest. That it may never be said that Halvhaven is discourteous, even in times of crisis."
[[To the Commanders home|The Plight]]
//The Plight//
Sir Jersig sits back, pipe in hand. "That is some tale, knight. And you bear the steel to confirm it's veracity." He turns his head and stares into the fire, deep in thought. You look around and marvel at the study you sit in. The walls are crowded with hunting trophies, the ground near them littered with tusks, and horns, and skins, from a myriad of creatures. The fireplace, twelve palms tall, illuminates them all with an eerie red-yellow glow.
"I feel that, though I do not know you, I must trust you with priveleged information." Jersig finally says. "Halvhaven is a shadow of it's former self, despite our guards' best efforts" he turns his eyes to you, "//my// best efforts."
"What's the problem?" you ask, genuinely curious as to what could cause such an intimidating man to have failed in his duties.
He leans forward, smoke curling towards the dark ceiling. "Let me begin by asking you something myself." His face hardens and he swallows hard as he fiddles, almost nervously, with his pipe.
"What do you know of necromancers?"
[[The End, for now|Good End]]
--
You made it! Not as long as I had originally intended, but cie la vie. I hope you enjoyed it, and thank you for your time.
-J
--
//Good End//