"Why hello there. Fancy picking up a book? Well, let's not kid ourselves here, these days, nobody reads books, its all about electronics and fandangled digital products and people staring soullessly at their phones. Back in my day, we didn't have any of those, in fact-"
- "Oh what? I'm getting off topic? Well, I could hardly imagine a strapping fine person like you came here to actually read a book, there's hardly anything here worth reading- oh yes, yes, you can go ahead and take those, these days with all those movies and ipads and whatnot, nobody is interested in real history."
"If you're interested in that book, it will cost you oh, I don't know, how about five dollars including tax. That one is- wait a moment - what are you doing- don't make me call the police - help- I'm way too old for this, can you please let go of the book and- "
Posted: Mon May 04, 2015 1:56 am
Zoobey Artist
Magical Incubator
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Zoobey Artist
Magical Incubator
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Posted: Mon May 04, 2015 1:02 pm
The correct term actually, is knight apprentice. The greatest surviving warriors gathered around the land, seeking refuge in the single remaining kingdom of man.
It had a name once. It was called ------. However, not many knew of the kingdom's true name, and it was referred to almost all as Camelot. It was called Camelot on the day the all the survivors arrived, those strong and tenacious enough to have fought against the darkness. They came in all strengths, from courage to heart to knowledge.
From his stronghold the Great King welcomed them all, and named them all as Knight-Apprentices. They were assembled in the greatest hall of the greatest kingdom of that time, and were promised even greater power, if they would prove themselves.
"There is a way to fight against the darkness," the Great King began, gesturing to the seven Great Knights behind him. "You must follow a Great Knight's path of conduct and choose a Sacred Weapon. Only a true knight can wield it, those too weak will fall prey to madness. This is why the Trial of Knights exist. Follow the knight code, complete your trials, and you will be granted a Sacred Weapon."
As the gathering disassembled, the seven great knights remained, each one representing a pillar of virtue and strength. You have already pledged to follow the code of one of them:
The code of the Eagle, lead by Percival, pledging protection and sanctity, saving those in need.
The code of the Raven, lead by Merlin, pledging wisdom and resourcefulness, giving those who seek power and greater meaning to their lives.
The code of the Stallion lead by Lancelot, pledging kindness and sincerity, opening their hearts to all, showing understanding to those who need it.
The code of the Stag, lead by Gawain, pledging healing and rejuvenation, giving equal parts salvation and preservation.
The code of the Wolf, lead by Morgan, pledging strength in battle and war tactics, priding themselves in their strength.
The code of the Lion, lead by Galahad, pledging honour and a knight's glory, always upholding the code to the greatest extent.
The code of the Serpent, lead by Mordred, pledging hope and fluidity, opening themselves to any who would take them in.
Each of them nod to you. It is time for you to pledge your duty as a knight, begin your path in the Trial of Knights, and make a sacrifice in honour of the code.
There is a line now, and you must wait your turn. At the end of the line is a box, a small, unassuming box. It is simple enough, and those in front of you have made it clear: kneel in front of the box and make your knight's vow. Simple enough, except for one very significant issue.
The sacrifice is your memories.
OOC
WELCOME TO KNIGHTS OF THE ROUND TABLE INTRODUCTION PROMPT
You should be writing this prompt before you do any other event orp! Consider this your entryway/ticket/warm-up exercise!
In front of your character is what looks like a massive box. There is a strange presence emanating from it, what feels like magic, sacred and powerful. While unable to wield magic yourself, it is in a knight's code to respect and fear it. You have already been told what it will do, but your options are limited. If you do not become a knight, the kingdom will fall. It is your sacrifice, it is your glory that will save those remaining.
You are called. It is your turn to pledge. You remember the words, clearly, simply.
"I pledge my service to the Great King and the Great Knights. I will uphold the Knight's Code and protect this kingdom against the darkness."
It is simple enough, but the doubt remains. When your memories are gone, will you remain yourself? If you have to start over again, if you are weak, then how does-
- It is too late. They are waiting for you. You pledge. The memory swirls around you, the memories of entire villages burning, of darkness, wildfire, those that call themselves horsemen plaguing your every step, following you like shadows until nothing remains. The pain surges again, the pain of regret and hurt and revenge. It overwhelms you until all you can hear is the screams and the smell of blood, the rotting smell of flesh, bodies, bodies everywhere, torn apart, the abhorrent ear-splitting shrieks of the shadows, the darkness-
And then it fades away and you can't help but feel like a great weight has been lifted from your shoulders. You forget.
OOC: Please read all of the IC part of the first three posts, and then the PROMPT in the quotes and respond in this thread.You will be responding/writing directly to the prompt in the OOC. Write what past memories your character had as they fled in order to make it safe. They are the sole survivor of wherever they arrived from. You can write their reactions as their town/village/dwelling was torn apart, and any loved ones that did not make the journey. Write everything you want on backstory, and then have them make the RP pledge and forget. This prompt will be up for the next 48 hours.
After you are done you can go ahead and progress to the CHAPTER ONE INTRO ORPS . This is a chance for you to interact and ICly meet/ get familiar with other characters. There will be smaller gm prompts littered throughout these three threads, with the next major prompt coming up in the 48 hours (as mentioned above).
Regarding memory loss: From this point onwards, your character forgets ONLY THEIR OWN PERSONAL PAST. They remember how to do everything, their own name, basic knowledge of the world, what is currently happening, etc etc, they just don't remember the EVENTS that happened to them prior to this.
The line seemed to take ages, but Shun was more than willing to wait this out. This was a chance for a better life, if nothing else. He knew he wasn't in this alone either. He could feel Estel tugging at his sleeve behind him. He ignored it for now, as he was focused on what was at hand. He watched those ahead of him; the whole process seemed simple enough.
Time went by and the amount of others before him grew shorter. Before too long, he was next.
Steeling himself, he drew in a deep breath and stepped up to the box. It gave off an odd aura that he hadn't noticed prior, but that was likely due to his proximity to it now. Was this what magic felt like? There was so much power in it. At least, that is what it seemed. So many things it could do... he didn't trust it, and he didn't really like the idea of giving up his memories. They were what made him who he was. But it was a small price to pay to have to deal with it, he believed.
He closed his eyes, then knelt down before the box.
"I pledge my service to the Great King and the Great Knights. I will uphold the Knight's Code and protect this kingdom against the darkness," he uttered quietly.
Then it happened. Images of death and destruction flooded his mind. It wasn't just anything... these were his own experiences. He didn't have much of a home. Just a sort of shelter within the alleyways of the town he came from. Regardless, he managed to get by there. He shared the alleyway with a few others. He didn't speak with them much. They occasionally helped one another with food if one managed to get extra.
Night had fallen, and he had trouble sleeping. What would have been a curse soon turned out to be his saving grace. When one sleeps in the streets, one has to be vigilant for anything that might come their way. He took note of a passing shadow and immediately figured something to be wrong. Carefully, he shifted up into a sitting position and looked around warily, trying to figure out what it was. It could just be a stray cat. Or it could be something more dangerous.
Unfortunately, it was the latter.
Further down the alley, he spotted one of the others. A younger boy. The sleeping child didn't know what hit him when his head suddenly separated from the rest of his body. Shun didn't see what it was that did it. Only the glimmer of a shadow seemed to be there. No longer tired, he was wide awake. The shadow moved onto the next, this time awakening the girl before brutally slaughtering her. Her death's scream pierced the night.
As much as he did not like to run from a fight, he had no clue how to fight a shadow. He had heard of the darkness before, but this was his first encounter. The tales didn't seem to do them justice.
He ran.
It was then that he realized what a state the town was in. Screams of pain, agony, and torment resonated out and all around. This place was lost. There was no point in staying. He needed to get out.
Out of the town he fled, leaving the shadows and the dying behind. Shun didn't look back.
He blinked a few times, as he felt as though he had just awoken from a dream. It was a strange sensation, but not necessarily bad. He felt... light. Straightening up, he turned to make his leave. He was a knight apprentice now. He had work to do.
OOC
My character's name: Shun Kuroda Character's journal link:Here BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER Dark haired and cloaked. Rank of character Rank, so we know dice rolls. All characters start off as apprentice-knights. Sacred Points obtained: ???/100
Blade Kuroda
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Zyphiris
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Posted: Mon May 04, 2015 10:25 pm
He could still feel a dull pain despite the numbness. Dillon blinked, trying to focus, but the world around him still felt light – like it was all an illusion.
But he was here now, at Camelot. The only place to go. Dillon wiped his brow, drawing back a sleeve dirtied with soot and blood. There was no where else to return to.
The crowd's chatter echoed in the background as he stood in line, trying to remain conscious, trying to remain standing. The Great King's words boomed through the halls, but he had trouble listening. He have a vague impression of what was there to do, though.
What was only there for him to do.
He paused for a moment as he arrived before the box, taking it in. A hushed murmur erupted as he stood still for a second too long, the knights in the room beginning to shift their gaze on him.
He knelt before the box.
“I, Dillon Avery, pledge my service to the Great King and Great Knights. I will uphold the Knight's Code and protect this kingdom against the darkness.”
The words echoed through his own head as he braced himself for something to happen. Even from a distance away, he could feel the ebb of magic and power coming from the box. Uneasiness hung in the air as he waited.
And there it was – a bright flash and the memory of a burning village filled his mind once more. His lungs seared as he choked on the air, thick with ash and soot. They called themselves the horsemen, the ones who lurked in the shadow and darkness, sweeping through village after village and leaving nothing behind.
Nothing indeed.
- - -
He remembered holding her lifeless hand, screaming over the wreckage for someone to hear him. But his screams were just another in the chorus of despair around him. It was hard to see through the black smoke and fire, but he recalled the images of silhouettes moving through the dancing flames. Figures running and stumbling, crouched over and begging for mercy. But one by one they would fall.
Oh, but he wouldn't run away and leave her like this. He lay down, gathering her in his arms and closed his eyes, waiting for his own end. But he awoke the next morning, the accursed sunlight of a new day flooding his eyes.
In the end, there was just him left in a land covered in ash.
- - -
A blankness engulfed him as he trembled where he knelt, continuing to remember. And then there was nothing.
He blinked, trying to process this new feeling of emptiness along with the numbness as he rose to his feet, swaying slightly. Dillon ushered himself away from the box, walking back slowly through the Great Hall. He felt light, even lighter than before.
A knight of Camelot. Was that what he was now? He stopped to stare at one of the banners that hung from the wall. Amidst the black fabric was a raven, embroidered in an outline of gold. The code of the Raven – to give power and meaning to one's lives for those who seek it. The image of the knight Merlin himself was a bit of a blur, but he could still recall it from when the knights were first introduced.
A yawn escaped his mouth for the first time in days, days that were spent without sleep, dragging his shell of a body through the land to arrive at this place. Now, he could think of being tired. Now, he could think of getting some sleep.
Quote:
gaia_crownKnight's Name: Dillon Avery gaia_crownChosen Faction: Black gaia_crownRank: knight-apprentice gaia_crownBattle Dice Stats: 1d4 gaia_crownSacred points obtained: /100 gaia_crown BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF CHARACTER A average looking young man who appears slightly more rugged due to recent events. Has a light-hearted demeanor, although often caught spacing out in deep thought.
Posted: Mon May 04, 2015 10:26 pm
[ Cami Ryland ]
Could you be too eager to step forward and surrender your memories? What was the worth of something that you didn't mind paying the price for? What if it wasn't an actual price at all but a donation you gave gladly? All of these thoughts swirled in Cami's mind as she knelt before the box. There was no hesitation inside of her.
Forgetting what she'd seen could only be a blessing.
In her family she hadn't been the eldest sister but she had been the one who behaved the most responsibly, who looked after the others, who was concerned for them all. There had been a twin sister once who had run away but nobody talked about her. Eight remained, including Camille, their ages spanning from late twenties to barely old enough to dress themselves.
Nobody talked about Mimsy because it hurt too much. At first they had talked about it too much, the pain in the preteened Camille's eyes almost too much to bear. It had been whispered around her after that until she told the adults that she could hear them still. Some tried to be kind. Tried to tell her that they were sure Mimsy was alright somewhere. Others were proud of how composed she was when thinking aobut her twin sister's death.
What they didn't know was that she'd told herself that she'd never had a twin sister. She'd been born. Alone. But it was alright because she wasn't alone now, she had other brothers and sisters and they loved her. She loved them.
She shouldn't have survived. Not alone. Not like this.
When the darkness swept into her village it had been all the red-haired woman could do to grab her youngest siblings in her arms and run. There'd been no warning. No time. The mother she looked most like, with her red hair and green eyes, had been struck down before they'd even made it out of the village. Her other mother refused to leave after that. Just sat down in the road and made herself a sacrifice.
Camille had tried. God knew she'd tried to get them all to safety. But how could you keep running day after day without food and water? How could you keep stumbling along on small legs, unused to the demands of panicked flight? God but she wanted to forget the horrible things she'd done when realizing that there was no way to save the smallest two. When she'd given them sweet berries with a tart edge that had been poisonous.
One by one the others had fallen. Horsemen. Darklings. Riders. It seemed that at every turn there was another one lost. When she'd finally made it to Camelot with her feet torn from running, eyes hollow and haunted by what she'd done and seen, they'd told her everything would be alright now.
Nothing would ever be alright again. Until now. Until the box.
Eyes closed she relived every single moment of that horrible three-day journey. Every death. Each gruesome detail was replayed in slow motion as she was always too late, too afraid, too panicked to do anything but keep moving. Keep trying. If she could just save one then it wouldn't have been for nothing. The others wouldn't have died for nothing.
But they had. For she was certainly nothing without them.
The names that had been seared into her heart and soul were obscured by a layer of healing balm as she forgot them all one by one. When pale blue eyes opened to look up at Percival, the knight to whom she'd sworn fealty, she didn't understand why her cheeks were wet.
Creaking to her feet on knees that had been knelt on too long Cami's palms rubbed the tears away. A deep breath slid from her lungs and with it a weight she didn't know the origin of left her. For the first time the woman stood with her back straight, chin up, and eyes looking forward. She didn't even know to look back...though she wouldn't have wanted to anyway.
nessy
Cuddly Hunter
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Luridel
Loyal Gatekeeper
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Posted: Mon May 04, 2015 11:00 pm
[ Estel ]
Estel could hear her heartbeat pounding in her ears as she stood on the line, holding on to Shun's sleeve. There were plenty of people ahead of them, but the line felt like it was moving quickly.
A sacrifice. She hadn't a lot left to sacrifice; on the plus side, things could hardly get much worse.
"Good luck," she whispered to her friend in front of her, and then Shun had stepped up to the box to make his pledge, and she was alone.
Fear hit her, then. She could barely hear him speaking the words of the pledge. She smoothed down her apron, her hands trembling. A smear of dried blood on the white fabric caught her eye. It had been a long time since she'd felt truly clean.
Follow the code. Further yourself. Help those in need. Master your weapon. Master the art of riding. Fight even if outnumbered. Sacrifice yourself for the king at all costs. Destroy the darkness. Show no pity towards the darkness. Pledge obedience. Remember your place.
What she didn't know, she'd learn.
Shun had finished speaking. He rose and moved away. Estel rose up on her tiptoes, smiling proudly and trying to get his attention, but he didn't look back at her. Her expression faltered.
Her name was called. Estel took a deep breath and scooted forward, going to her knees in front of the box.
"I pledge my service to the Great King and the Great Knights. I will uphold the Knight's Code and protect this kingdom against the darkness." She spoke quickly, allowing herself no time to change her mind.
The handle of the wicker basket dug into the palms of her hands. Everything was burning.
Thick, twisting black smoke poured from the slitted windows of the fort. Estel covered her mouth, coughing harshly into her hand. "Ma? Are you in there?" she shouted.
Nothing.
The walls surrounding their village had been crumbling since before Estel had been born. The fort was hardly worthy of that name, but it was all their people had to retreat to - and now...
The air was thick with the scent of smoke and burning flesh. Estel pulled the hood of her cloak over her head, drawing the fabric more tightly around her body, and ran. She was fast - she had always been fast. She had to find Shun. Her friend would keep her safe, if she could find him - Shun was a survivor. And if she couldn't...
Searching the alleyways was hopeless. There were more corpses than living, now, and more than once Estel had to freeze and hope the shadows would overlook her. Eventually, she gave up and fled.
It was dark; she nearly missed him on the side of the road outside town. "Take me with you," she pleaded. "I w-won't slow you down, I-I promise," and she held her arm in front of her face as she coughed heavily. The smoke exposure had done her no favors. "We can go to Camelot, you-you can leave me behind if I can't keep up..."
She was kneeling in front of a box. Disoriented, she stood, looking around the hall. She was a knight-apprentice now, wasn't she? It was a good feeling.
Estel took a deep breath - and coughed, a harsh, wracking thing that had her pressing a hand against her chest. She was thirsty... but that wasn't so bad. She got out of the way for the next person in line, smiling.
It was an honor to be here, to serve. She was excited. Head held high, Estel moved on.
OOC
My character's name: Estel Herald Character's journal link:Here. BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER Short black hair. Violet eyes. Petite, delicate-looking. Sixteen years old. Dressed in monochrome colors - black cloak, black-and-white dress, white apron. Crescent pin in her hair. Rank of character Knight-apprentice. Sacred Points obtained: 0/100
Posted: Mon May 04, 2015 11:10 pm
A way to fight against the darkness.
Truly, to Yildirim Ignatius, it sounded like a dream. It was a small chance to save the world from the dangers that were encroaching onto it -- the horsemen, the shadowlings, the things that lurked from every corner of his vision and left even the greatest of heroes afraid of the next morning. There was only one caveat, though, and it was one that he considered with a small frown and admittedly, a small bit of distress.
It wasn't that he had memories he particularly wanted, considering everything that had gone to hell recently. He didn't want to remember the faces of his family as they were slaughtered. No one did.
But if he forgot, would he still be himself? How much would he lose? Would he lose everything that made him be? A human was only the foundation of their experiences, after all. They were what shaped him.
But if he didn't forget, would the kingdom fall? Would he be the one person they needed at just the right time to save them all, or at least save a couple? If he did not, he could be damning them all.
It seemed Ignatius did not have the time to seriously consider his angle on the issue one way or another, called to the box. The power that radiated from it was daunting, at best, but he needed to be brave. He was going to save the world. His memories, his weapons, his strength, his power, they would save the world. The words, as they came out of his mouth, gave the impression of a man that was in equal parts determined and bitter.
"I pledge my service to the Great King and the Great Knights. I will uphold the Knight's Code and protect this kingdom against the darkness."
They had descended suddenly, without warning.
It had been a celebration in their village. There was a recent marriage, something that was worth rejoicing over in such a dark time. To know that life still went on despite the dangers, to know that people could still find love and expand their families in times like this -- really, it was all anyone could ask for. Those glimmers of hope were what they lived for.
It started slowly, with a few of those at the fridges of the celebration, those that did not particularly like the limelight, picked off first. It was almost systematic, really. While they were distracted, someone would disappear. And then another. And another. The fools they were imagined that they were probably just wimps, wiped out and going to bed, but the reality of the situation was much worse than anything they could have ever feared.
When the bride's throat was slit, the whole celebration descended into screams. People scattered left and right, falling right into the traps of the horsemen and being ripped apart and destroyed right before his eyes. It was Ignatius' swiftness that kept him away from the blades, dodging left and right as he attempted to find a place to hide and regroup with his friends and family. Some of them had to get away. Some of them had to.
He saw his sister, then, heading towards him, and when Ignatius went to reach out to grab her, it was too late. A horseman mercilessly swept by and sliced her in half, cackling.
Everything was truly a blur. Ignatius could not quite recall how he had escaped, but...
It suddenly didn't matter, anymore.
The newly minted knight-apprentice came to his feet and walked towards the exit.
He had work to do.
OOC
My character's name: Yildirim Ignatius Svarog Character's journal link: [Here] BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER Ignatius is surprisingly pale for all the time he spends outside, perhaps the only obvious reaction to his outdoors presence being an abundance of freckles peppering him from top to bottom. His hair is red and kept to his shoulders, usually down and free-moving like much of what he wears. He tends towards light armour, mostly to keep him moving fast--both to chuck his weapon and quickly retrieve it for a fast finishing blow. Rank of character 1d4
Seiana_ZI
Codebreaking Conversationalist
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Rikku Takanashi
Friendly Guardian
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Posted: Mon May 04, 2015 11:21 pm
She listened intently to what was told to the assembled group and waited patiently in line... Her expression was grim, her fists clenched and... shaking? At one of her sides rested a Rapier at the other a Main Gauche they looked worn but sturdy and glinted lightly in the warm light of the wall sconces
A myriad of thoughts ran through the girl's head memories, decisions, worries... all tinted with pain and fear she was a very brave girl always apt to do things others wouldn't dream of doing but... what she had seen... what she experienced... had chilled her to her very core... but it was out of that fear and pain that strength was born with every moment of fear her bravery grew stronger and with every ounce of pain her determination grew sturdier
She now knew the cost of being a Knight-Apprentice... Her Memories... She would have to relinquish them and abandon her past in order to ensure not only her own future but that of all Camelot... She would be sacrificing herself for the greater good... And she was ready but she was also worried... And one question ate at her more then any other... would she still be herself without her memories...?
It was time... She now stood infront of the box looking at each knight in turn... Her mind was made up... She would be the sword of Camelot to help protect those in need and stop the darkness! And to become that her memories were a small price to pay... She knew exactly which Knight she would serve for generations the Dormice had served the Lions always holding honor, morality, and nobility above all and so as she kelt down she bows her head respectfully before looking the Great Knight Galahad in the eyes with a expression of determination and loyalty
"I Camilla Forester pledge my service to the Great King and to the Great Knights. I will uphold the Knight's Code and protect this Kingdom against the darkness."
For a long moment she felt nothing but her own emotions... heard nothing but her own steady breathing... but then suddenly it hit! Her head throbbed painfully as memories began to swirl around her!
They hadn't stood a chance... Being a Marquis the Forester family manor and the small town which surrounded it naturally would lie on the boarder of the great kingdom or what once was the boarder Camilla had been training in the fighting arts sense she was but a wee girl happily freeing her older brother or any of her five younger siblings from any future Knightly responsibilities she always had a love for battle but truthfully always did prefer friendly spars over more serious battles but never the less she could and did hold her own on multiple occations so it was when the dark plague of shadowlings and horsemen swept across the land Camilla along with her father and mother as well as a loyal friend spearheaded the defense of the castle town
...But they hadn't stood a chance...
What were simple human weapons against creatures of darkness and evil? They fought valiantly against the swarms but... it was all in vain... Knight after knight fell as the town folk were herded to the castle at the center... first the great wall which had protected the town for generations fell... then the town was crushed and burnt with any remaining stragglers brutally murdered... and finally... the shadows decented on the castle... Camilla plus her parents and that one loyal friend along with what few knights were remaining fought hard fought with everything they had... but it was for naught... Finally it was when the gates were due to fall and their lives due to be forfeit that the two Lords beg their daughter and her friend to flee! They had heard of Camelot and knew that the pare could help save all the kingdom! Camilla pleaded not to but their mind was made and so after final words of goodbye Camilla and her friend fled through a ancient escape tunnel built long ago... At their backs... the heartrending screams of those they loved and the blood curdling screeches of those dark monsters
Her head throbbed painfully again more painful then before as another set of memories washed over her! The journey to Camelot had been arduous and frot with danger! The shadowlings and horsemen continued to sweep over the land like a bloody tidal wave always nipping at their heels it seemed along the way Camilla made friends and lost them sometimes in the same day till her heart became heavy with sorrow... yet still she pushed on both dragging her friend and being dragged till finally! finally! They made it to Camelot! They were battered and torn but they had made it!
Finally another throb more painful then the last before suddenly there was peace...
OOC
My character's name: Camilla Forester Character's journal link:Here BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER: Please see my Character Journal Rank of Character: Knight-Apprentice Sacred points obtained:
Posted: Mon May 04, 2015 11:23 pm
The journey had been long and tiring, but it was mostly a blur to the tall man swathed in green. Grey eyes kept a spark inside them, though they’d seen much and slept little. A smile played on his face and a low humming melody reverberated in his throat. Alexei stood in line patiently, flickering gaze jumping from one knight to the next; more than awed by the presence they exuded, happy to be serving under one of these great warriors. Though he and his twin sister had just been through the gauntlet, the soon to be knight apprentice felt invincible under the protection of these walls and the seven before them.
He could tell Claudia wasn’t as ecstatic as he about this whole ordeal. They’d ran far, the siblings had experienced a hell - the same that every other man and woman in the room had. That was why they were here, after all. Alexei could not let the pain continue, he could not sit passively by and watch the darkness take the world with no resistance. Like a single lit candle in an empty cathedral, he would fight.
Finally, his time to kneel had come. To anyone paying close attention, Alexei seemed a bit too eager to be kneeling, certainly not with the noble bearing he wore into Camelot. Perhaps he wanted to be lesser, perhaps he was truly just a man child and was too giddy for something fun.
Perhaps he was ready to fight, to take charge and retaliate, to break open old wounds and pour alcohol into them, to burn them, to purge the infection.
”I pledge my service to the Great King and the Great Knights.” He began, eyes set to the cold floor, booming voice reduced to little more than a reverent whisper. He saw fire, felt stinging hot ash across his arms, in his lungs, the smallest of flaming hornets burrowing their stings into his neck. Alexei tasted acrid air and burnt caramel, inhaled the burnt chocolate stench of hair returned to its base elements.
Perhaps he was all too ready to forget. Forget the great wooden walls eaten by flame, the hounds’ and the children’s cries blending and joining the painful choir as shadows consumed them raw, alive. He was ready to forget the screams of the servants and the choked tears as he and Claudia ran far, far away.
To forget the look in her eyes as he slammed the grand hall’s doors opened, the utter betrayal and pain, the tears of resignation to her fate.
”I will uphold the Knight's Code and protect this kingdom from darkness.”
Perhaps he wouldn’t be Alexei anymore, he began to think. Would his ties to his twin be severed? Would his personality, so shaped by the memories he cherished, suffer for it?
Perhaps he had made a mistake. It was too late to regret. The memories began to swarm, the fire and the pain, the death and the shadows like flocks of locusts descending on the keep. The screaming of the children, the yowling of the hounds, the look on her face. A single chair, carved in extravagance, burned slowly at the forefront of his mind. A man lay in front of it, legs consumed by shadow and face obscured by blood. He looks up, his mouth opens-
The screams stop, the world ceases its chaotic spin. Alexei is in the throne room, kneeling before the box. The sacrifice has been made, his allegiance pledged.
Perhaps this was the best of choices.
OOC
My character's name: Lex Character's journal link:[x] BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER Height, a massive chestnut beard, and a booming laugh equal one Lex Jamil. Rank of character Knight apprentice Sacred Points obtained: ???/100
Everyone was gone. Everyone. Her father her mother, her village. Up until now they had been working against an ever growing tide. Their strength of the enemy was too much. Between the horsemen and the shadows and even the other beast all of whom her family had to cross… could not cross, she was alone.
Her grandmother was the first to go. The matriarch of the family, she was the one, even though it was her father who implemented, that made sure the city was fed, that their young ones were safe, that the young men who defended got treatment and food to eat because they could not work the fields properly. She oversaw the field with anyone old enough to hold a shovel.
But despite her strength, she could not go on. Age and taken the strength of legs and body she once had. She knew she would be a burden on the journey. Her final words were to give her a blade. During the attack that drove them from the city, she stayed behind, drawing attention from the bandit that wanted their precious little resources. She fought and gave them a means to escape, even though she was unable to even take down a single foe.
Trisha’s family moved out, her father helping carry the supplies her mother carrying the children who were too tired, to walk any longer. They had tried to find any place that could shelter them, even for a while. But at their backs were the howls of the creatures of the night and at the front a fierce wind. Trisha carried what she could and tried to tend to the wounds, but many died so they could make their escape. More died, dragged off in the night, taken by the shadows and monsters who lurked there. Their home was destroyed and there was little else they could do.
Despite that they tried to keep it together. They were tired and hungry an only 3 days walk away from the last stronghold in the night when they were attacked by a group of shadows too large for their dwindling numbers to take care of on their own. “Run!” he had screamed to her as he tried to pry a shadow away from her mother. Even then Trisha knew it was too late for her. The wound was too deep. Still her father tried to fight. “Run.” For a long moment she could not. Her feet, usually swift and free beneath her were frozen in place unable to even tremble. She stood in that spot until Jamie, a cousin she knew well grew up with threw himself into a shadow to her left. She didn’t even see it. “Run” he had grunted to her. Finally she ran, not looking back. If there were any survivors they were scattered. She had lost track of anyone else. But she had made it, crawled herself up to the gates where she was taken in.
There she was given some purpose. Of course she could only be taken with Lancelot, the one who reminded her of her father in many ways, her grandmother in many more.
She was given a decision. Die in the wilderness, or forget. Forget the love she had grown up with, the people who she worked with. But also forget their deaths. She didn’t want to remember a life with them all gone, besides. They wanted her to live. And this was the only way left.
"I pledge my service to the Great King and the Great Knights. I will uphold the Knight's Code and protect this kingdom against the darkness."
Gone was Lady Trisha. In her place stood Trisha the stallion. Trisha the apprentice-knight.
OOC
My character's name: Trisha Character's journal link:Trisha BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER A Tallstrong build femal with long hair and ribbons tied in. Rank of character apprentice-knights.
Posted: Mon May 04, 2015 11:28 pm
[ Chel ]
Chel's never seen so many people before. Certainly she wasn't opposed to crowds (she preferred them really, having the ability to blend and disappear), but it was overwhelming for someone who only depended on one person. So many different faces left her comfortable and uncomfortable at the same time. Would one of these knights recognize her and Chris' face? Would the scars derail them from thinking otherwise?
Ceilings stretched up higher than Chel had ever seen a ceiling go before. She wondered what the purpose of that was; was it to try and reach the gods or to get close to cage them out?
She also noted the sheer number of exposed purses that hung from knights' belts. An excellent thing indeed.
"There is a way to fight against the darkness."
"Pfft." Chel nudged Chris' arm as if to say get a load of this guy. They weren't here for noble intentions and upstanding citizenry, they were here for piles and piles of money.
Well actually any money. They were kind of broke at this point because Chel had bought herself a new shoulder cape thing. It did absolutely nothing for anyone, but it did make her look cool and that was what really mattered. Plus Chris had spent extra getting a silly looking fur collar, so really they were evenly distributed in their idiocy.
"You must follow a Great Knight's path of conduct and choose a Sacred Weapon."
Chel could get behind that. She liked weapons. Weapons were nice pointy things that got jobs done. However, Chel was too busy eyeing someone's feathered hat to notice. She nudged Chris again, whispering, "Think I could get a hat like that?"
"Only a true knight can wield it, those too weak will fall prey to madness. This is why the Trial of Knights exist. Follow the knight code, complete your trials, and you will be granted a Sacred Weapon."
Chel zoned out this entire part. She was picking at her teeth or something.
Eventually the crowd began to clear though, and Chel visibly perked up a bit. "Wha? What's goin' on what did I miss?" After a short explanation from Chris, she gathered that they were all supposed to align under some knight.
Her eyes fell to the red knight and it seemed like the most fitting option for her. Beautiful, lively red fit her well. It was the color of expensive makeups and intimate interactions; most fitting. The red knight exuded power, proclaimed battle prowess, all the things she most desired to protect Chris.
But her eyes slowly moved to the black knight and there was something about him that inexorably pulled her in. He had a quality about him that was mesmerizing, and Chel felt her feet moving before even saying a word to Chris. Her hand slid off his grey steel armor and dragged to her sides as she approached the knight.
Home.
She barely remembered the line that trailed behind, nor the time it took to shorten the line until she was standing in front of him. She looked to the knight nervously. The trance was broken as she searched for Chris' eyes in the crowd. Where was he? What was this box?
More importantly what have we gotten ourselves into?
It wasn't until she was kneeling that panic welled. Kneeling was not an action she was comfortable with; it meant fealty, it meant surrender and worst of all it meant servitude.
She served no one any longer.
But words are tumbling out of her mouth and she doesn't know what's brought them on; is it the black knight's mysterious power, or worse (and possibly more terrifying), is it her own desire to make change?
"-giving those who seek power and greater meaning to their-" She chokes on the last word and she feels condemned. She's made another mistake and she knows it, but she can't take this one back. It's one more lash on her back, one more stolen heirloom, one more runaway plan that's failed miserably. Suddenly she's back in that castle and she's staring down icy eyes that have decided her sentence at the age of five.
"-lives."
All at once an immense sense of peace befalls her. This was correct. There was no turmoil, there was never any cousin, no ballroom, no fiance, no beatings, no indecision.
There is only Merlin and the code of the Raven.
OOC
My character's name: Chelsea Craft Character's journal link:here BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTERlike dis Rank of character Knight Apprentice
chiickadee
Princess Hoarder
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Syusaki
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Posted: Mon May 04, 2015 11:29 pm
Wilson Hopkins
There is something unsettling about everything here, but he cannot put his finger on it. Perhaps everything is moving too quickly for Wilson to fully comprehend; perhaps the remnants of adrenaline and fear are still bleeding through his veins. Perhaps, he thinks as he shuffles forward. He lifts his gaze toward the Great King; his attention shifts to the castle walls and empty stalls manned by blurred silhouettes.
The King’s voice bounces off the wall as he tries to search for a reassuring face. One ear is listening to his babble and the other is listening for a familiar voice—perhaps her loud laughter, if he strained his ears enough perhaps his mocking chuckles. Any remaining shard of the past would be a welcome right now. The King is still talking when Wilson squeezes his eyes shut and rubs his temples like he can rub away the heartache and pain, all of the queasiness in his stomach and the fear seeping into his bones.
He cannot see the seven Knights nod to him, and perhaps it is for the better. Perhaps it is better to not feel the pressure crush his shoulders and weigh down on his neck. It’s easier this way, probably. Saying the oath will be easier if he cannot feel the imaginary weight.
Wilson keeps his eyes squeezed shut, muttering This is fine. Everything is fine. I’m fine. It’s fine. This is— over and over as a protective mantra. He knows if he says it enough times it’ll come true, one way or another.
He’s still mumbling when someone pushes him from behind and he stumbles, nearly falling face-first into the chest. The surge of something, the overwhelming magic emanating from the box stops the man in his tracks mid-stumble. His face is burning bright red for far too many reasons when his gaze turns cross-eyed and somehow, he decides that perhaps this is not the best choice. He doesn’t want his memories to be taken from him. Will they disappear forever, shredded to pieces and tossed into the abyss of this mysterious box? Who will he be after this pledge? Knighthood, he realizes, is not quite for him.
But he’s already here.
Praying the other knights do not see the hesitation on his face, he pretends to transition into a kneel, a hand over his chest. He closes his eyes a third time while he stutters, “I-I pledge my service to…the Great King and the Great Knights. I will uphold the Knight’s Code and protect this kingdom against the d-darkness.”
As the last words leave his mouth, his face pales as he feels the regret knot in his stomach. This wasn’t it.
If there was a warning, he cannot recall. The sky is clear blue when he is playing swords with the village children. Their laughter drown out his half-hearted complaints. He’s half-laughing and ambling backward in slow, messy steps while he wildly swings his stick around. His acting is spot-on when one boy manages to poke his stick between his arm and armpit. He lets out a melodramatic wail when he falls to the floor and the children descend upon him like a flock of giggling baby birds.
And the memory ceases, like ripped movie film. He tries to tape broken memories together. One moment he’s on the ground laughter, and then with a loud pop he hears fire crackling and people screaming. He grips one child’s hand as he tries to drag them toward the local church. His face pales when he sees the florist cross his path with her blonde hair melting into the dark flames.
He looks for Pokerus or Elliot, calls out their names, but they are nowhere. He squeezes the child’s hand to reassure more-so himself than the girl’s. He runs faster, trips over a corpse. The corpse is the boy who pretended to stab him prior. Actually, he is surrounded by tiny bodies.
He looks down, realizing he was holding onto a useless hand the entire time.
Screaming.
Another movie reel. When he runs home it’s already fallen to pieces. Not even a minute of throwing away debris until he finds his adoptive parents’ bodies. He tries to pull them out, partially out of despair and partially out of hope, but he cannot forget the tears down mother’s face—what was left of it, he amends, because half of her skin has been torn off by claws—and the gashes carved into father’s contorted face. Can he call himself lucky for not seeing the fear in father’s eyes because they’ve already been gouged out?
He’s holding father’s head when he hears Pokerus behind him and he hastily covers their parents with rocks and broken splinters of wood, but she only unwinds his work. Something is tearing his heart out when Pokerus screams, tries to cradle what parts of their bodies remains.
(“No matter what, you have to look after Pokerus, okay?” He was young, his legs swinging as he sat in the too-tall chair. He nods.
“I know.”)
His nails dig into her arms as he drags her away toward the church. The smoke fills his lungs so his voice turns hoarse, “Run.”
The film snaps again. He nearly slips on the barber’s innards and there is no time to pity the pudgy man, his thick fingers still laced with his wife’s. He turns away before he can see how much worse she faired. He ushers Pokerus into the church, tells her to walk to the back while he closes the door.
…
The church has already fallen.
…
Tries to grab—Pokerus—the Rider smiles—hops—pile of corpses—chews thoughtfully—heart—crushes—reaches—Pokerus—screams and pushes—laughing, the Rider’s laughter rings in his ears. It rings so loud and clear and beautifully, it almost sounds like music. He cries, what possessed God to give such beauty to a damned creature?
The Rider digs her claws into his neck, lifts him off the ground like he is a straw doll. He scrapes at her armor and struggles for air.
Air, breathe—dark—laughing—Pokerus, no—relief, a blur—pain, the church ceiling? The mosaics have broken to reveal a red, smoky sky.
Someone is pulling him up. Ah, he thinks in between bouts of consciousness. The Rider threw him into the benches.
Where…
Where is—
—God?
He doesn’t understand why he’s kneeling because such a gesture is far too formal for someone like himself. The hand on his chest snakes up to the back of his head and he rises, smiling sheepishly.
There is something unsettling about this, he muses as he walks out, but he has already pledged his loyalty.
Posted: Mon May 04, 2015 11:43 pm
With no hope left, and not fully understanding what she was about to do, Rhiannon stood in line and waited. It wasn't an easy choice for her to come to, but what other option did she have? The young girl had no money, no family, no home... She fought back a sob, attempting to quell the memories of her little village burned and ravaged by the darkness.
While most considered her joining a great honor, she also thought it a curse. 'Will I be strong enough? Will I be brave enough?' But there was no going back now. All she had were the knights and the Great King, those that promised to protect and help those who came under their care. Those that would defend the kingdom, humanity's last defense...
She approached the enchanted box warily, kneeling as she was instructed to do; not knowing what the future held, nor the sacrifice she would make. The words fell from her lips before she had a chance to take them back:
"I pledge my service to the Great King and the Great Knights. I will uphold the Knight's Code and protect this kingdom against the darkness."
Ri froze, wide-eyed in terror. It almost-- but it couldn't be! She could hear her Papa's voice loud and clear:
"Rhiannon! Rhiannon, where are you?" The blacksmith coughed through the heavy smoke. The air was thick with death and war, and bodies of people she had known since was very small now littered the ground, their faces frozen in silent screams. Her eyes smarted and it was hard for her focus... If they didn't make it out of the village soon...
"Papa!" She coughed harder and harder, seemingly unable to stop. Eventually, she fell to her knees and breathed the toxic air, accepting her miserable fate... when a comforting body held her close. Just as soon as she was about to give up, a cloth was pressed over her face.
"My little rose." The strong blacksmith sobbed. Ri hugged him with all the strength she could muster, not willing to let him go. Not with those things out there. He kissed the top of her forehead and released her, pointing her to the south. "Listen," he said solemnly, "over there is a road. Take it. Take it as far as you can until you see green grass and clear skies, and never look back. Is that understood?"
She nodded. "But Papa, I-"
"No, rose. I cannot go with you now. I must stay and see if there are any other survivors." He coughed something fierce, until red blood stained his own kerchief. "I will go and find you later, okay? I love you. Now GO!"
And with that she ran. Ran far away, past the blight and grief and destruction. She waited for him to come... and waited... and waited... until her hope had shattered. There was nothing left. She was all alone...
Ri wiped her eyes, feeling as if she had just awoken from a terrible nightmare. She rose from the ground, feeling... feeling nothing. Nothing but determination for the road ahead. She would become strong, she would study hard...
She was a Knight-Apprentice now.
OOC
My character's name: Rhiannon Character's journal link:Here~ BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER: "Ri" is a pale, slender, young girl with long layered pink hair tied with a ribbon. Her eyes are as pink as her hair, and are usually set in a blank expression when not in battle-mode. (See avatar and Legacy Alt art.) Rank of character: Knight-Apprentice
That seemed the most appropriate word to describe how Yuki felt. He stood among the crowd, all strangers, and imagined that never in his life had he felt so alone while surrounded by so many people.
The young man stared in the direction of the Great King, listening intently and yet unable to help being skeptical of his first words. He would speak nothing against them, but seeing what they faced and what destruction they caused left nothing in his mind but doubt over facing such evil head on. However, if mankind was to survive, there was no choice. Yuki's gaze moved along the line of seven standing tall behind their King. Soon, he was stepping into line with the others, awaiting his turn to pledge his life and memories away to battle the darkness.
His hope had nearly died, and he didn't think there was anything that could devastate him more than his journey here to Camelot and the final events that unfolded in his home. What had been his home, where his family had lived for generations, was snuffed out of existence in what seemed only moments. Moments, and yet the events replayed over and over and over in his mind in slow motion. Friends and neighbors bloodied, dismembered, devoured... Crushed beneath collapsed buildings and debris or burned by fire. He'd never seen such carnage in his nightmares. Everything happened so quickly, so brutally, that there had been barely time to try and protect anyone before there was nothing to do but run.
If others had escaped, he hadn't seen them. Not then, not as he traveled, not now.
He'd almost let the darkness take him, when the grief was at its worst. The only thing that kept him fighting and moving forward was his desire to avenge his village. His friends. Her.
He had to be strong. He had to fight. He couldn't just let himself roll over and die.
Despite the promise of his memories being spirited away, he found himself a bit fearful of the implication. He had important memories. Beloved, dear things that he couldn't imagine wanting to give up. Memories of family lost to tragedy or simply of natural cause, the friends he'd made, the love he'd shared...
It hurt to try and swallow past the lump in his throat, his gaze settling on the box before him as the person who'd just spoken their own pledge and faced their own memories stood and moved away.
May their spirits forgive him for what he was about to do. It was the only thing he could think as he lowered himself to his knees and put his palms to the cold stone beneath him. Yuki knelt forward until his forehead nearly touched the floor, speaking the pledge as they had all been instructed.
"I pledge my service to the Great King and the Great Knights. I will uphold the Knight's Code and protect this kingdom against the darkness."
-------
Run. Faster. Don't look back. They've almost got you.
Please... Please let her be safe.
Yuki's lungs were screaming for air, burning from exertion and the haze of dust and smoke he'd taken into them. It was by fire alone that he could see where he was going. It lit the village and the sky in hellish red and orange, wood structures cracking and snapping as they collapsed into showers of embers and sparks. He couldn't rightly tell which of the screams that rang in his ears were from the villagers or them.
Headlong he ran, skidding just out of reach of claws reaching for him as he rounded the ruins of one home and nearly tripping over a corpse at the next. He had already witnessed comrades ripped apart in the field, where they'd tried and failed to hold off what they thought was just a few small shadowlings.
But there had been more, and they had surrounded and took the village without any time for them to protect themselves. If they had ever had any hope of protecting themselves.
"Kioko!" He was screaming her name before he was even one hundred feet from their home, his heart jolting painfully in his chest when he realized that the roof and one of the outer walls was destroyed. With all of the destruction, he held onto a shred of hope that it was not engulfed in flames. Maybe she'd been clear of the debris and she was safe. Safe and waiting for him so that they could flee together.
The wall hadn't crushed her, but what Yuki was faced with crushed him.
He'd seen so many mangled bodies. He'd seen people he knew, good people, snatched violently off their feet and torn apart.
None if it compared now, to see his wife's body ripped asunder and half eaten, entrails spilled across their floor. Yuki wailed in anguish as he hit his knees, his legs giving out from under him.
-------
Yuki sucked in a deep breath like he'd been struck, and it eased out in a long purging breath just after. He drew his head up and realized that there were droplets of moisture on the floor. Oh, those were tears. From his eyes. He rose from his kneel and pulled himself to his feet, aiming to get out of the way of those still waiting behind him. He wiped at his eyes, looking at the wetness left on the wrist of his tunic and only briefly wondering what might have brought such a response about as he left the hall.
OOC
My character's name: Yuki Character's journal link:Here BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER Reference here; without pointed ears. Rank of character Apprentice-Knight
