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 Posted: Mon Jun 15, 2015 10:12 am
This Quest is for Illian who is striving to become a Lancer.
 OOC
||. The quest prompt must be answered with a 2000 word reply (can be more).
||. Respond to the prompt given with an adventure of your own creation as long as it meets the requirements of the specific tasks.
||. NPCs may be used as long as they advance the quest in an interesting manner.
||. You cannot include any playable characters other than the quest taker.
||. Your responses will be graded with a Pass or Fail. Those who fail will have to continue with assistance from the staff.
||. Questions about quests can be asked here.
IC
It seemed it was time for Illian to choose.
Istanell was leaving and he must either go with his brother to find the other siblings... or remain behind with the Obans and Matori who are his friends. Either way one group must be left behind; for Isanell will not stay, and Kadan and Kalics will not leave the familiar places where they are.
What would Illian decide on?
Quest Tasks
||. The quest should begin with the news that Istanell is leaving to find their other brothers.
||. This quest is an introspective quest, the main focus being Illian's thoughts and internal conflict.
||. Illian must choose to go with his brother, or stay with the others.
||. The quest grade will not be effected by his decision.
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Posted: Wed Jun 17, 2015 8:48 pm
Illian paced, back and forth, back and forth. The house was empty, quiet, a perfect spot to brood in with the curtains drawn over the windows. Kalics was out overseeing the Gladiator ring and Kadan was still where he'd left her, tending to their little hole in the wall. He bit his lower lip until it bled, and continued to gnaw on it, ignoring the pain. His brothers words echoed in his head, 'I wont be staying in this place. The longer we're here the further away the rest of our family gets.'
Of course Illian knew that! He wanted to see his family as well, to see how big little Issaly had grown, to see if Isolder had gotten the hang of his weapon yet. He wanted to ask for forgiveness for abandoning them like he had, and yet it wasn't pride that held him back. He owed people here in Oba. He owed Kalics his life and Kadan his sanity. He owed Jelanii his... well. Whatever it was that was blossoming between them he had to- no, he wanted to explore that possibility.
But he couldn't return anything that had been given to him from across the continent.
So he'd all but begged Istanell for some time. He had a life here in Oba, he couldn't just get up and leave everything behind. He wasn't like the other who hadn't put roots down anywhere while he was out searching. But the real truth of the matter was that he held mixed feelings about it all. He loved his family, loved them enough that he did idiotic things to try and protect them. He could just hear his father's words echoing in his head about how he was no son of his, how his actions brought shame to the family. Caught with your pants down and head in the clouds. Pathetic. You'll never amount to anything boy with an attitude like that.
Absently he wiped away the red that slid down his face and spun on a heel, continuing his pointless trek from one side of the room to the other. Old anger flared within him, and with it came the familiar hurt. He never was able to hear a word of praise from their father, only the vitriol and derision that the man spat at him. It was too much for him and he'd shut down, locked the part of himself away that craved his father's love. That tiny part of him, still locked away, was afraid that with Iasso dead Istanell would take over the man's roll and continue to treat Illian as if he could do nothing right.
Their arguments only reinforced that fear.
Against his back the fishtail braid thumped again and again against his spine. A constant reminder of everything he'd been working towards. He'd sworn to never braid his hair again until he found his family, or parts of his family. Now he'd found not only Istanell but Incanthis as well. It was even Istanell who had given him his braid, returning to him a feeling of peace that he hadn't had in a long time. A sharp pain blossomed in his chest, just under his ribs. Peace, warmth, a need to belong.
His fingers tore at the straps that wound around his upper arms and with two vicious movements he ripped the gloves from his hands. In the darkness he couldn't see the marks that littered his flesh, scars that would never fade from his memory as they would his skin. He didn't deserve peace. He didn't deserve warmth or his family. He was a failure and a traitor, one who had abandoned his family- for what? His pride had been the factor that had driven him to go bounding off on a harebrained, halfcocked plan that relied more on luck than actual planning.
It was his failure to protect himself that got him caught and sold. His desire to prove himself as something more that got him thrown into the ring where he bled and bled and bled for a man fat with gold and jewels who wore his self entitlement like it was the finest of furs. It was his aloofness that caused his Master to see him as the pretty object he was, the ruthlessness that could be harnessed by the compassion he saw lurking behind his dark eyes.
It was his fault that his fellow slaves suffered the whims of that man, because it was he who dealt the punishments under his gaze. That man knew when he pulled back his strength and just as he knew that punishing Illian would do nothing, he would turn to the prettiest young thing of the bunch and have them take his place. It was a vicious cycle, one that Illian felt would be repeated should he venture out without first paying his debts.
But how did one go about repaying something so vital as sanity? How did you pay off a life-debt?
Illian ran a hand down his face and stopped his pacing to stare blankly at a shadow dark wall. It was a plain thing he knew, with only a small bit of paper tacked to it. A faded child's drawing of some beast that vaguely looked like a Radaku. Kalics never told him who had drawn it and he wondered if Issaly had ever drawn something like it. If Isaris had taught him, or if the man himself even knew how to sketch.
He felt his chest tighten with emotion at the thought of his littlest brothers. How he wanted to go with Istanell, to find the others. To get that story perfect reunion where they'd meet and all their conflict and wounds would melt away. They'd build a home somewhere and live the rest of their days in peace, each brother venturing out and returning with a partner to further build their life with. Their clan would grow and thrive and- Illian had to laugh at that, the sound loud, mocking and sad.
What good was he to his family? Him, someone so scared of a reunion and what-ifs scenarios that he was shoving away the chance to rebuild the bridges that he thought he'd burned so long ago. How proud his father must be, to see the coward he'd tried to mold into something more before eventually giving up on him, finally turn true to his nature. Illian hoped that Iasso's soul was writhing in despair where ever he was. It was only a small drop of the things that man deserved.
But he didn't let the ghost of that man haunt him, hadn't in a very very long time and Illian had no plans of letting him do so now. He'd turned his back on the man long before any of his other brothers had, and had only stayed for a few reasons. Family didn't abandon each other when they truly needed the help. His mother had been so fragile it had pained him at times to look upon her, and he would do anything she asked of him. Anything. Then there were his brothers. His baby brothers, helpless against Iasso and his obsession with breeding the perfect warrior. He took the brunt of their father's brutality whenever he could, and he had the scars to prove it. The ones on his flesh had faded but the ones on his mind still ached.
He sighed and moved to sit on the edge of Kalics bed, ankles crossed as he leaned back. The longer he thought about the things he did for his family the more he realized that he was tired of being their rock. Sure he knew that he wasn't the only one who tried to take up their fathers time, to give the others some relief. But...he wanted to be his own man, to worry about himself for a little while. These past five years he hadn't had a chance to do that, having traded one yoke for another.
What it all really boiled down to, he supposed, was that he just had too many loose ends to tie up before he could commit himself to finding his brothers. Istanell didn't have that issue. He'd shed anything that bogged him down years ago, to the point where he didn't even worry about his own well being. How nice it must be to have become so single minded in his determination.
Illian had been that way for a little while, once he was stable enough in his freedom. But Kadan had, gently, reminded him of the things he had to do. Track down Incanthis, track down the woman he'd been bred to, like a prized Radaku, to see if anything had come from their unions. He had a daughter, a tiny slip of a girl-child that had just turned three. He couldn't abandon her here though her mother wanted nothing to do with him, and for a good reason. He was a reminder of everything she'd been put through, just like to him his daughter was a physical reminder of what he'd done. But he loved her, in his own way and he wanted to prove that to her.
Just like he would have loved and proven that love, to the child he would have had with Kadan, had she carried to term.
'I can't stay much longer, one, two days max. Incanthis is out there, somewhere here in Oba, and-'
Illian squeezed his eyes shut, hearing Istanell's words rattling around in his head, biting at his sense of duty towards his family. His blood family, his brothers. But, he'd done his duty hadn't he? He was their shield, their protector, their nursemaid when they were sick. But they were all grown now, they shouldn't still need him. They hadn't needed him in the five years he was gone. A tiny voice scoffed at that thought, knowing that it wasn't true. He'd been taken away five years ago, during the aftermath of a bloody, taxing, and heartbreaking battle.
He'd left when they needed him the most.
He made a frustrated noise and rolled onto his side, fists clenched hard enough that he felt the short nails digging into his palm. He was being selfish. So utterly and terribly selfish that he was just running circles around his own logic, picking and picking at it to try and convince himself that he was anything but.
"I don't want to go." He admitted finally, voice whisper soft, hoarse with suppressed emotion.
He pulled his knees up to his chest and buried his face in the scratchy fabric and just...laid there for a little while, letting the words he'd uttered weight him down. But the self-deprecation never came, the shame of finally admitting what he wanted surged up only to fade away just as quickly. Was it really alright for him to want to be selfish in this manner? This particular matter even.
His family was everything to him, both those he'd gathered close and those whom he shared blood with. But he couldn't...he couldn't abandon one when he'd only just realized what they truly meant to him. That he actually had a future with them that didn't depend on the whims of one man. He let out a shuddering sigh, finally feeling as if the tug of war inside his head was easing up. He'd made his choice, no matter how much a part of him railed against it. He was going to stay. Not too long, of course, but just long enough to see things through.
Istanell would never understand and Illian was alright with that. It wasn't his choice in the end. He could argue until he was blue in the face and Illian wouldn't budge. Couldn't budge. He was afraid about how the others would take it when they found out, but he was terrified of the disappointment that Kadan and Kalics would show him. Jelanii...would understand him the best he believed. Possibly after giving him a few choice words, but understand nonetheless.
He swallowed and uncurled himself, it was best to get this out of the way now, while he still held a confidence strong enough to stand up against his brother's disappointment.
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Posted: Wed Jun 17, 2015 8:50 pm
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Posted: Thu Jun 18, 2015 7:13 am
Class Quest Result
Pass!
Illian has passed and received a rank of Lancer!
Congratulations Illian!
Lirende For an interesting quest, Illian may choose 1 regular shop item. Please PM Suhuba with his choice.
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