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year 5, quarter 3
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the good and loyal knight just and true the brightest of the valiant and the strongest of the brave nothing you claim shall make me question myself for though i bear the horns of a demon to strike fear in fell hearts i remain of the light
-- order or chaos --
A common occurrence for a knight traveling on the road is to encounter someone who needs help. Or at least it is common for Sir Garland on days when the roads are safer and the weather tamer than it may come to be (and will be again) should the world grow darker and more dangerous for the meek. In this case, a young woman near Provo had lost someone to the dark and twisted woods. Whether it is a curse or just a thick wood full of monsters, the request remains the same: find the lost child or avenge them.
Garland is no stranger to traversing a forest on foot given Cornelia's own woodlands but the way his helmet's horns keep getting snagged on danging branches is getting ridiculous. The thick fog coating the ground and hiding sudden pitfalls and the occasional pool is not helping matters much either. His eyes betray him and Garland swears he saw a shape dart off in the distance. "Rosette? Rosette! Damn..."
With a frustrated grunt, the knight forces onward. Either he'll find the child or find their corpse. It depends on how deep the child has fled and if Rosette knows how to climb a tree. In all likelihood the child is dead. Only a fool wanders so far from a settlement. Garland grits his teeth at the thought. A child is allowed to be foolish. The mother said that they had gotten into a fight over a pet. The cat was lost and the child is so sure that the animal has fled to the this forest. The cat loves trees and the cat was not found by any of the trees in town. It makes sense. Yet the forest in question is said to be cursed and plays on the senses. The young often feel that they are invincible and that any attempt to safeguard them is an attempt to restrain them. I never felt such a thing at that age. Strength takes time and I knew I was weak.
[tag] @cecil
The cycle turns as countless souls are joined in the endless song of misery and destruction there will be no escape from your inevitable fate you shall fall and you shall turn and you shall curse the world anew beyond the end of time itself
[attr=class,bulk] It had been some time since Cecil had last wandered the paths of the terrible, twisted forest, and it was not an experience he’d ever wished to repeat again. The ground was gnarled with roots and dry brush. The branches of the trees wove upon themselves in a latticework of gnarled wood. The air smelled of damp things left in dark places to rot. Cecil continued on with a hand at his sword and an eye for the shadows.
This was a place of ruin and despair. He knew only too well the darkness lurking within.
Cecil came across a half-covered pitfall in the road. It was barely visible through the fog that gathered thick as smoke about his knees, but he was cautious enough to to test his weight before falling through. He peered through the half-obscured shadows to find a ditch carved into the path some three feet wide and six feet deep. At the bottom was a collection of leaves, detritus, and what looked to be the remains of a dead moogle.
Cecil took a long breath, steadied himself, and started the long way around through the thick underbrush.
There were terrible beasts lurking this wood. He remembered his encounter with a strange green demon in particular as it had shuffled towards him lit only by the flickering shadows of its upheld lantern. There were creatures lurking within the trees that only a fool would take on alone, but it wasn’t the monsters that had him so on edge. This was a place of spirits -- of ghosts and hatred and mirrors for the darkness in one’s heart. On his last visit, Cecil had dismissed any such dangers. Cecil had already faced his past. He’d thought there could be no further torments to lure him off the beaten path.
Cecil had been a fool.
Now he kept an eye over his shoulder -- not just for monsters, but for any shadows lurking just out of sight ready to torment him. This time, he would not be led astray. This time, he’d learned his lesson.
He hoped.
On any other day, Cecil would never have ventured this far. On any other day, he’d never have ventured this far alone, but when he’d come into town, he’d heard a commotion in the tavern. A woman had been shrieking inside, begging for the aid of men who threatened to toss her out the doors if she didn’t calm herself. As she’d finally lost hope, Cecil had asked her what he could do, and she’d told him about her missing daughter. She’d been lost to the forest, and though she’d posted notices for work, no one had found her.
”Does she still live?” Cecil had asked, and she’d sputtered something about how her daughter, Rosette, was a smart girl and surely she couldn’t be…
Cecil had placed a hand on her shoulder and reassured her with a soft smile. ”I’ll bring her home,” he said. ”I give you my word.”
And so he found himself here in the woods, jumping at shadows.
There was noise ahead, and Cecil slowed to a stop. It was a slow, heavy noise like metal footsteps crunching through the grass. Cecil regripped his sword and raised his shield ahead of him, creeping forward as lightly as his armor would allow. Whether beast or man or shadow, he would not be taken by surprise.
Not until he saw it, at least.
Cecil was struck first by the sheer size of the figure ahead of him. It was a man, he thought as he squinted through the fog. A man of gargantuan size, clad from head to toe in thick, black armor. From the back, even that was obscured by a cape which swept around him in a kind of violet shroud, and from his head protruded two beastly horns.
For a moment, Cecil could only stare. Then his thoughts caught up to him, and he stepped forward instinctively, hand raised as though reaching out across the space.
”Brother?”
It was Golbez. Even obscured, he knew that form. It was the same hulking, iron figure whose shadow had once haunted his nightmares and now tore uncertainly at his heart. Still, even as Cecil felt himself drawn towards it, his thoughts pulled him back. This forest had played tricks on him before. He eyed it closer, cautious and unsure.
the good and loyal knight just and true the brightest of the valiant and the strongest of the brave nothing you claim shall make me question myself for though i bear the horns of a demon to strike fear in fell hearts i remain of the light
-- order or chaos --
When the man steps through the fog, the armor's shape and colors become more clear to the naked eye. It could be a new suit as it bears a passing resemblance to what Golbez wore under Zemus's influence and the helmet looks much like Cecil's own old helm while he was a Dark Knight. The black metal has become blue-gray but the gauntlets and boots remain the same shape and the cloak is the same sort of dark purple-blue fabric. The horns are long and wide making the the old helmet's tall and thin horns look an insect's rather than these oxen-like adornments. The spherical pauldrons and their massive spikes are now both more sedate and sensible. 'Golbez' now looks like a terrifying demon made of metal due to the helmet's monstrous faceplate, the gauntlet's claws, and the way the lighter and darker embellishments on the armor are designed to look like muscles.
"Brother? I fear you are mistaken. I am Sir Lucian, of Cornelia." The illusion is broken when the man speaks. For how much the armor looks like something Golbez would wear, the voice is off. It shares the same deep timbre and formal manner of speech but the rhythm is wrong. His voice is as heavy and dark but it lacks the same smooth quality. "What brings you here? Are you searching for her as well, or are you on an errand of your own?"
On Garland's part something inside him is both heartened and disgusted at the sight of the stranger. The man feels Light in a way that nothing the knight has ever seen before. The power of the Crystals of Light or something kin to them has washed the darkness from the man's soul. It should have weakened the stranger... and yet here he stands. More powerful and vibrant than the Heroes have yet to be. It is strange and is giving him a headache. One of the benefits to wearing a face-concealing helmet is that no one can see you grit your teeth or grimace.
[tag] @cecil
The cycle turns as countless souls are joined in the endless song of misery and destruction there will be no escape from your inevitable fate you shall fall and you shall turn and you shall curse the world anew beyond the end of time itself
[attr=class,bulk] Seconds crawled past. Slow, uncertain seconds punctuated by the pounding of his heart. He stared, refusing to look away from the shadow which stood in his path. It felt fleeting. Like some kind of trick that would fracture on the wind. The forest had seen his darkness before. It had haunted him with the cold eyes of Kain, a friend who’d turned his back and left him in doubt. First Kain, now Golbez.
It couldn’t be real. It had to be some kind of trick, and yet…
Did he want it to be?
Finally, the figure turned to look at him. It stepped forward, and as the dim light settled into focus, Cecil realized his mistake. The metal behemoth that approached him now was not Golbez -- not the dark sorcerer which had caused him so much strife and pain. Instead, it was another. Another who wore dark metal and shrouded himself behind a long cape and a beastly helm. The man, for it was still a man, spoke in deep tones like the core of the earth itself.
This man, Sir Lucian, was so like his brother that he could have been a shadow. Yet this was no trick of the forest.
”My apologies.” Cecil bowed his head, gathering his composure again. This haunted place had him on edge and jumping at ghosts.
Not ghosts. Visions. Golbez wasn’t dead.
”I came on behalf of a mother in town. Can I assume that you and I are searching for the same person?” The man had asked him such a strange, specific question. ’Are you searching for her as well?’ They could only have the same goal in mind.
”I’m Cecil. A knight of the kingdom of Baron.” Cecil straightened and tried for a smile. ”I haven’t heard of Cornelia, but you must be a knight as well.” No average swordsman would don such heavy armor, and as Cecil looked him over properly, he noticed the expertly crafted sword at his side. It was massive, and for a moment, Cecil couldn’t help but stare. How could any man lift such a thing, let alone bear it in battle?
”It’s good to see another living face. This place is cursed. I’ve seen the visions myself.” He glanced over his shoulder, hand still gripping his sword. This man wasn’t a ghost. He wasn’t some dark apparition, so why did Cecil feel no less at ease?
the good and loyal knight just and true the brightest of the valiant and the strongest of the brave nothing you claim shall make me question myself for though i bear the horns of a demon to strike fear in fell hearts i remain of the light
-- order or chaos --
"Well met, Sir Cecil of Baron, though we are bound by the same fearsome purpose. The young one was a fool to have permitted fear or trickery to bring her this far from home." This knight's temper must had risen from Garland's own fear for her safety. He takes a steadying breath and forces his composure to return. Stress or no, fear or no, the child is not to be blamed.
She must be found. Or her remains brought back. She will not join the lost souls.
"I have never heard of Baron but I cannot envision a man such as yourself letting oaths or misplaced trust to bind him eternally to a lord of false honor or fell intent." Cecil feels too... light. Eyes may be deceived for a fair face can hide a cruel heart but the pale knight still pings oddly on Garland's senses. Light Untainted, Cleansed and Pure. "My own's worthiness continues, and he holds his lady love and daughters as the greatest treasures in the land. I know the kingdom and the royal family themselves shall be well protected in my absence but as you may agree being cast so far with no way home is rather vexing."
Garland turns his head to look about their surroundings at Cecil's talk of the living and a curse. It is indeed a fair sight to see another living being. But such a place... Though he has seen few spirits himself, Garland is aware of how such a place could be used by malevolent minds. Be it for twisted magic or base trickery. A child being led here could only be for a dark act.
"It is never safe to go about beyond civilization's walls, regardless of whether you travel on the road lonesome or with aid. But in this place... I agree. Even if we did not share the same purpose in this wretched place I would had made the offer as well. The child may be in active danger and a man to protect while the other takes the offense is a wise idea." The man in dark armor has made no gesture for his sword even if there is the odd urge to fight the man of Light in the back of his mind, but it is no different from the call of the void. Destructive and strange impulses, inexplicable intrusive thoughts, with no source or desire to be acted upon are shoved aside from sheer habit. They must find the child. He knows not what path the Baronian knight took. Did they take the same route or was it a wider path? "Which direction did you walk from? Were you turned around by the mist? I have found no signs of little Rosette but it is a large woods and the mist and specters seem to take delight in shrouding all hints to her survival." Or lack. A terrible thought dawns on Garland but no, they would have felt a body underfoot.
"Pity magic is beyond me. A carefully shaped spell of Air would surely take care of the veil."
[tag] @cecil
The cycle turns as countless souls are joined in the endless song of misery and destruction there will be no escape from your inevitable fate you shall fall and you shall turn and you shall curse the world anew beyond the end of time itself
[attr=class,bulk] Cecil blinked in surprise. Had the knight, Sir Lucian, called the lost girl a fool? He said it with no little disdain, the word curling around itself without pity or care. Cecil felt his eyebrows furrow. He frowned.
”This place is cursed,” he said. ”It preys upon the darkness of one’s heart. It only takes a single moment of weakness to fall to its grasp.”
Cecil remembered the ghostly image of Kain lurking among the forest’s shadows. He’d been warned of the forest’s trickery, and yet, it had only taken that one moment without clarity, and he had been lost to the mist. Cecil was a knight fully trained in harnessing the darkness of his heart. What chance did a young child have against such illusions?
Sir Lucian went on to praise the honor of his lord, something that Cecil should have found familiar, but there was something about it that felt…
Wrong.
”I’ve pledged my loyalty to my kingdom. To Baron,” he said slowly, but he couldn’t shake that strange, ominous feeling that he couldn’t identify.
’I cannot envision a man such as yourself letting oaths or misplaced trust bind him eternally to a lord of false honor or false intent.’
Did this man…? Did he know more about Cecil than he was letting on?
”The forest is skilled in misdirection,” Cecil said as the conversation moved on to their current predicament. They were to find a child lost within these paths without becoming lost themselves. For someone who was fond of calling others fools, it was strange that Sir Lucian didn’t consider this to be a fool’s errand. Cecil had only ventured within these dark, twisted paths once before, but he knew the rumors of this place well enough. The townspeople said that the trees themselves would shift in alignment with the forest’s malintent. Even if one were to stay on the path, there was no guarantee that it would lead where it should.
”The mist is unnatural and might resist a spell like that anyway.” Cecil said with a slight smile. ”I’m a paladin. I know some white magic, but nothing which might dispel the fog.”
His heart twisted at the thought of Rosa. She might have known something to ward away the evil that surrounded them, but Cecil had only recently embraced the light. Her white magic was leagues above his own.
”I came from the entrance to the west. I haven’t seen anything unusual yet.” Nothing but the knight standing before him. The knight that looked so much like Golbez and who spoke of following lords of false honor.
No, this wasn’t the time for doubt. Cecil should be grateful for any companion out in these haunted woods.
”Past this way, I think we should find the abandoned village. Maybe the child’s hidden herself inside?” Cecil looked at the man hopefully. ”We should search for her there at least.”
the good and loyal knight just and true the brightest of the valiant and the strongest of the brave nothing you claim shall make me question myself for though i bear the horns of a demon to strike fear in fell hearts i remain of the light
-- order or chaos --
"A terrible night and place for a curse if it is indeed haunted by more than just specters." Garland concedes. A child may have little darkness to twist but a man? Even one as seared by Light as Cecil of Baron seems to be may have a darkness to be dragged out. There are after all a thousand ways and more to break and succumb to the more monstrous nature of mankind. Part of him still wonders at the odd feel to Sir Cecil. Was it by his king's command that he was purified? Would a man follow such an order when it comes to the state of his soul?
Yes.
Even without the evidence before him, Garland could see a loyal man believing such an act to be only a boon. It is not the darkness of the fools praising Chaos's name, and surely Light would only be so good. The lie is so clear. Fools who worship Light or Darkness both slave themselves to a force beyond mortal ken. In the end...
The Cornelian knight shakes off his musing. If the forest is haunted by ghosts and spells then it may help to burn it to the ground. Yet that may only serve to unleash the magic beyond its boundaries. "The Element of Fire would be far too risky. Earth can be poisoned and Water befouled." he muses aloud. "I am less than familiar with a Paladin's skills or the true limits of a magic user, yet I have seen a mage dispel dark shrouds from the eyes of other men. The cause was not as wide as this and was far more potent for it, however, so the magic may need more of a 'form' so to speak to grasp."
Sir Cecil is a strange knight. He seems far more wary of Lucian Garland than the tricks of the forest. And rightly so for to his eyes the knight Garland could be a lie. It is amusing. How would one convince another that they are real?
"West and north leaving everything beyond. There are ruins hidden within these woods? Hmm. Yes... that would be a likely spot. If not it is possible the root of the curse lies within. A look would be a fair idea in either case. Lead on." The strange mood and caustic tongue have left him now that he has a goal in sight and not just the rising certainty and horror that he'd only find gnawed bones if that.
[tag] @cecil
The cycle turns as countless souls are joined in the endless song of misery and destruction there will be no escape from your inevitable fate you shall fall and you shall turn and you shall curse the world anew beyond the end of time itself
[attr=class,bulk] ”The life here has dried from recent droughts. I don’t think that fire would do us any good,” Cecil agreed though it sounded as though their musings were truly pointless between them. Neither were particularly skilled mages, and neither could call upon the elements for their protection. Whether it be earth, fire, water, or air, none would come to the aid of the two knights.
”I have some healing ability, but let’s hope that we’ll have no need for such skills.” Cecil offered the knight a small smile. He had still yet to see the man’s face. This in itself did not unnerve him (he had trained as a dark knight alongside dragoons, after all), but part of him wished that the man would remove his helm for only a moment. It was clear, squinting in the dim light, that Sir Lucian had never before crossed his path. But from the corner of his eye…
That familiar, hulking figure whispered warnings of danger.
Cecil nodded as the knight reaffirmed their direction. It helped to know what ground they had both covered. The forest was vast and unyielding. It kept terrible secrets nestled deep within its shadows, but a second pair of eyes was fair better than only his own. Perhaps they could parse through the darkness together.
”There are many stories about the village,” Cecil said as he checked their direction and started forward again. ”It has no name. Its inhabitants have been lost to time. But it has given shelter to those lost within these woods. If she is safely hidden, she would have the best chances there.”
Cecil spoke boldly, but he did not like their odds. While it was true that the lost village was the child’s safest hiding place, that did not make her survival likely. If she truly had come that way, there was no certainty that she would have sustained herself long enough to be found alive.
They traveled for some time, Cecil leading the way along paths that he only knew from maps and legends. He kept his focus ahead, careful not to stumble on the uneven terrain. There had been roads here once, but now they were nothing more than splintered fragments of flagstone, almost entirely overtaken by a barrage of vines and moss and low-hanging branches. Cecil used the broad side of his shield to push the offending foliage aside, slipping through gaps in the shadows. His companion loomed behind him like a specter in the gloom. Cecil was smaller and more agile, but nothing could stand in the way of the black knight’s brute force.
Light and darkness. Two knights serving kingdoms long out of reach. They made for a strange team.
”This is it.” Cecil made one final push through a patch of overhanging brambles and stumbled into the light of a clearing. It was a low light, dimmed by the coming dusk, but it was better than the cover of the trees, and Cecil took some solace in it. They found themselves on the southern outskirts of the village next to what appeared to have once been a stables of some kind. Now the entire structure was only half standing, weakened by time and termites until it sagged over the remains of long-dry feeding troughs. Cecil peered inside to find a matted wall of cobwebs and browning thistles. A single, desiccated rat corpse caught his eye, mouth opened in a silent horror. Cecil frowned and turned back to the knight.
”Not in here,” he said then looked ahead. ”The village is ahead. We should check every building. She could be anywhere.”
[attr=class,ooc-notes]
[attr=class,tagline]@sirgarland
Nothing bad could happen in the spooky ghost village, right?
the good and loyal knight just and true the brightest of the valiant and the strongest of the brave nothing you claim shall make me question myself for though i bear the horns of a demon to strike fear in fell hearts i remain of the light
-- order or chaos --
"Your hope is a kind one but such a hope is ever in vain. All it takes is a lucky strike to knock even the most valiant and strong to their knees." Garland rarely travels with a mage. Not due to distrust in the arcane though he has been counted among such numbers by the foolish and the naive. The reason is simple: he does not trust himself to keep a comparatively frail spellcaster safe during one of the many onslaughts he has endured beyond Cornelia's walls. He would have to be on the defense and indeed all it would take would be a lucky blow. An apothecary's goods can only fix so much. For Cecil of Baron to study both blade and mystical tome speaks volumes of his skill. Not all books should be opened, but there are some which yield knowledge worthy for even the least mystical knight to possess.
Yet a nameless village deep within the woods, known for offering potential safety amid incredible danger? Garland knows this story. He has lived it many times before, both in forgotten labyrinths and the Northern Temple claimed by the worshipers of Chaos. "A place such as this could be a shelter to more than the lost. Though Bones litter old ruins, the few times the undead do not linger the place instead is full of brigands or cultists." There is no need to tell the other knight to stay on guard.
Their walk is a curious one. It is almost amusing to see the younger man dash and weave ahead like a hunting hound. Everyone has their use. In comparison, Garland's own march is like a baretta. The rare animal would be uncaring of such a strange terrain as it, much like Sir Lucien himself, is accustomed to a more open space. The trees outside of Cornelia are not as thick as here or the elven lands. I, Garland, shall knock all the trees down! The sudden and bizarrely mocking thought crosses his mind and Garland barks a laugh. He shakes his head, heedless of whether the sudden noise catches Cecil's attention or not. Now is hardly the time for such foolishness.
When they do reach the ruined town... the sight is no surprise. Though it is old wood and an almost familiar structure, similar places lurk deep in the marshes and in places where monster hordes overwhelmed settlements. There is a reason why most places have tall walls and regular patrols. "Without doubt she will fear our approach. Strangers in such a fearsome place..." He more than Cecil. He almost suggests they split up but a vision comes unbidden of a child looking at him in fear. The image twists and it is Princess Sarah and her younger sister Princess Jen. Surrounded by the dead and horrified as a blade dripping red comes to point near their feet. No. It would be wiser to stay with the smaller and more gentle-seeming man.
"The most intact first or the nearest? Or perhaps one closest to the center? Though if she has been on the run, she may be looking, in vain, for stores of food or a fruit-bearing garden." Too many options and though he knows the minds of the princesses, he hardly knows what may cross the mind of a random child in fear for her life.
In spite of the tiny corpse, Garland has yet to see or sense anything akin to the skeleton warriors or restless spirits. Of course such a haunting would be best to take their prey by surprise or deeper in the 'safe haven'. Which does bode ill if the child did reach here and fled deeper within...
[tag] @cecil
The cycle turns as countless souls are joined in the endless song of misery and destruction there will be no escape from your inevitable fate you shall fall and you shall turn and you shall curse the world anew beyond the end of time itself
[attr=class,bulk] ”Perhaps you could remove your helm?” Cecil looked at his unlikely companion, frowning slightly. He knew that it was so no small request. A knight’s armor reflected his honor and fealty towards his kingdom. Yet, in terms of sheer practicality, Cecil knew better than most that the shroud of a dark knight did little to put the heart at ease.
”It might make you less frightening to a child. It would be far easier to find her if she was willing to reveal herself.” It might also lower his defenses should they fall under attack. Either way, he would leave the decision to his companion. Cecil hoped that his light alone would be enough to reach the child through her fear.
”We should stay together. The forest might keep us apart otherwise.” Cecil glanced at the knight before starting forward. There was really no logic to their search. As Sir Garland had said, the child could be anywhere or nowhere at all. Where would Cecil have gone if he were Rosette? Scared and helpless in the woods?
He stretched his imagination, but couldn’t quite find an answer. This would be as much a matter of luck as one of perseverance.
The air was still as they made their way into the ruined village. It was a solemn place, thick with silence and the smell of decay. This was forsaken land -- cursed land, and Cecil could not help but look over his shoulder towards the twisting trees as though he expected them to shift and obscure the path behind them. They walked between the rundown fences, stepping carefully over their toppled slats. The earth was soft here and loose as a freshly dug grave. Cecil’s senses were heightened. His hand never wavered from the hilt of his sword.
”Should we call for her?” he whispered. He found that he did not wish to break the silence. ”It would draw attention, but if she really is in hiding here…”
The two of them could brave any encounter which they happened upon. They were knights, proud and perhaps a little foolhardy. They could survive the wrong attention in a haunted place like this, but the girl…
”We must find her by nightfall. We don’t have time to search every building.”
[attr=class,ooc-notes]
[attr=class,tagline]@sirgarland
I'm kind of terrible at making things actually happen lol
