Knights promo thread and obtaining your sacred weapon!
You will need three sealed cards in order for your knight to upgrade from apprentice-knight to full knight. They will also unlock their sacred weapon. You do not need to do this for future promotions. So if you get 5 or 10 cards, you can just upgrade your journal and upgrade your dice rolls yourself (1d8 for 5 cards, 1d10 for 10 cards). HOWEVER, you cannot skip this process, meaning if you automatically go from 1 to 5 cards, you still have to post here first for your first upgrade before you can upgrade yourself to the second.
- After you finish this your character's stats are now 1d6 for dice, and 50 HP. HP cannot be upgraded further.
- Please note, you must complete this rp prompt in order for your knight to upgrade. You must also link proof to obtaining the sealed cards in your journal.
- You will be able to pick the TYPE of sacred weapon. You can choose sword, shield, ranged, staff (offensive), or staff (defensive). Please do NOT pick anything else. When you have picked what type, you will be quoted and the sacred weapon you get will be picked. The sacred weapon chooses the knight, not matter how unfamiliar they are with it, they must learn to master it!
- Once you are ready, simply read the prompt below and respond to it ICly. When you are done with the prompt, and you have been QUOTED with what your weapon exactly is, you may go ahead and rp them promoted and upgrade their dice to 1d6. If there is no reply yet, and you already posted go ahead and continue rping them as if they had not promoted yet!
Posted: Mon May 04, 2015 6:19 pm
MY KNIGHT IS READY FOR AN UPGRADE!
The prompt is in the code! This MAY be a spoiler so don't read it until your knight is ready!
PROMPT:
Your time has come, and your knight is called. They are lead down stairs past the cellars, down, downwards, until they reach a large, cavernous chamber. In the center of the chamber is what looks like a clear, glowing pool of water. It seems to call to you, and you move forward. You realize you are alone in this cave.
In the pool of water there are weapons, hundreds of them. They are all beautiful in their own right, but only one calls to you. You reach your hand into the water, and as you do, a memory hits you, a memory of the [i]past[/i] which you discarded.
For a moment you feel slightly vulnerable, but it fades away. You are still alone.
FORM
[b]LINK TO PROOF:[/b] [b]SACRED WEAPON TYPE:[/b] sword, shield, ranged, staff (offensive), or staff (defensive)
Shun wasn't sure what to make of this. In amidst all the chaos of the siege, he had been summoned. He supposed now was as good of a time as any to become a full knight. With the sacred weapon, he would be able to fight against the Darkness with greater efficiency. Still, he hoped this process would not take long. He did not know what to expect. He was led down past the cellars, pace kept brisk as time was of essence. In a way, this was a sort of a pitiful thing. His armor was still smeared with blood, and he wasn't in the best of condition himself, either.
It was probably now or never, though. Given how dire the situation was.
Once they reached the cavern, he paused and looked around. A glistening pool of water laid at the center. The knights that led him here were gone; they probably went back into the fray. He did not blame them. But, he was a little lost as to what he needed to do. Was there a ritual? Anything? No one explained.
Shun sighed deeply as he approached the water, peering in. There, he could see many weapons of all sorts sitting. They were all marvelously crafted. With a tilt of his head, he... could almost feel something calling to him. Not in a literal sense, but he felt drawn to one of the swords. Cautiously, he reached down into the water to grab a hold of it.
---
He was hungry. No. He was starving. And exhausted. His attempt to steal had gone badly, and he ended up with more than a few bruises to show for it. Limping, he curled up against a wall somewhere, trying to get some rest. Shun was just a child, but that didn't seem to matter to a number of the townsfolk. He was more of a pest, to them, really. Just some homeless orphan. A rat of the street.
A girl found and approached him; one that was several years younger. She offered him food. He hated having to receive charity, but right now, his survival depended on this much. In return, he had been attempting to teach her to defend herself in a way. She could really use it... right now she didn't look to be in a whole lot better condition than himself. He could see the bruises she had. They looked fresh.
"Remember. This doesn't make us friends," he scoffed, bitterly nibbling at the food she brought. It was not a whole lot, but it was still something more than what he had moments ago. He could continue to survive, even if he was beaten up pretty bad.
For some reason, that didn't bother her it seemed. Maybe she really needed a friend or something. He didn't. He was sure of that. He's always taken care of himself. Didn't need a family. Didn't need friends.
---
Shun snapped back, recoiling from the sudden rush of the memory. He brought his free hand up to his head, closing his eyes. Why had that returned to him just now? And that girl... he was sure he had seen her around here even. Where...
His head was starting to hurt. Maybe it was due to a blow he had taken earlier, or it could be something else. Maybe it was a mixture of both. He couldn't dwell on it right now. Not when the fighting was far from over. Even though he had this in mind, it still bothered him a little. It was like an annoying gnawing sensation in the back of his consciousness.
With a shake of his head, he looked down at the weapon he had grabbed.
"I suppose this is it."
OOC
My character's name: Shun Kuroda Character's journal link:Here BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER Dark haired and cloaked. A sheathed katana rests at his waist. He also now has an onyx encrusted pauldron and a black and gold tabard. Rank of character apprentice-knight Sacred Points obtained: ???/100
Chel isn't sure why she was chosen. In fact, she believes she's the last person who should be chosen. There's no part of the knighthood she wants; she questions everything; she wants her memories back; she opposes a cowardly king.
One doesn't shirk away from the call when the call is coming from bigger people with spears pointed at you for desertion.
In an odd way, Chel probably wants it too. There's a part of her that stubbornly clings to the ideal of freedom and rebellion in a way that can't be shaken even in memory absolution. This is true and this is always going to be true, but there's also a part of her that reaches for noble ideas like the vines on a wall. She's feebly growing towards a person she can respect.
(She does not need the respect of others. She never has).
The water is beautiful and Chel would admit to being awestruck. It's serene and it moves her to a quietness seldom found.
Yet despite this, her paranoia grows. What are they doing with her? Why is she here? What are these weapons- do they belong to the slain? Is she to be slain?
Immediately her eyes flick around the room, soaking in every detail. This Chel is attentive, aware. She is not bogged down by the necessity of compassion, instead being replaced by calculation and survival. She takes a step despite herself. Her feet are moving without her being ready to move.
"What's going on?" The guards don't answer, because they are gone (were they ever here?). "Why am I here?" Childish questions fall on deaf ears.
At the edge of the pool she can see everything. Her chest squeezes tightly, but she has never seen easier, heard louder or felt more at ease. There is a strange spell over the room; Chel is assured this must be the magic they whisper about in dark rooms, speaking of fantastical ruins and abstract artifacts (but then, she's seen all those things hasn't she?). Her hand pushes through the water and she feels her hand curl around something solid. It is strong, and it feels powerful. She understands a little bit more now why the knights hold themselves so bravely.
"He's dead."
Chel's standing over his body. There's red on her hands.
"Chris he's dead."
She didn't do this- no, wait. She did. There's panic and fear in her eyes. She's never killed a man before. Someone who's only fourteen shouldn't have to.
Chris moves wordlessly to the body.
"What are you doin'?"
"Takin' his stuff."
"What?"
"He probably has money."
Chel's alarmed by his clarity, but quickly understands. They're runaways. They don't have a title, money, more than a sack full of food, clothes- nothing. They have nothing. He's doing the best he can for them, and that means stealing. She slumps down to his side, putting one of her bloodied hands on his shoulder. There's a look of solidarity in her eyes. We're in this together.
But underlying the solidarity is a great fear. She feels powerful with blood on her hands, like warpaint. She could get used to this lifestyle. She doesn't mind doing what needs to be done to get by with her cousin. Greedy, greedy, greedy. One taste of freedom beget another, and she would live on all the vices they were never promised before.
"Let me help."
Chel's blood run cold and she remembers, she remembers and then it's gone. She lets out a guttural scream, because it's there, it's so damn close and then it slips again. Now she has another piece though, a tiny piece to this every-growing puzzle. Chris is her cousin and they survived on greed. It's something to go on, and her paranoia subsides even for a blissful moment. Even if it will return later in full force, she can at least be satisfied with this.
Her feelings are such an amalgam of emotions she doesn't register the weapon in her hand at first. When she looks down, she's surprised. Mirthfully, she tastes the word on her lips. "Alright then. Knighthood.."
chiickadee
Princess Hoarder
Offline
medigel
Anxious Spirit
Online
Posted: Sun May 10, 2015 1:16 am
proof:xxx sacred weapon type: ranged (bow if allowed to be specific)
It felt like it had only been ten minutes he had sat down, studying the new helmet he’d received from Gawain (marveling at the irony: Jack with a helm of Hawthorn, and hopefully one that wouldn’t harm him), when he heard his name being called. A small shiver of excitement went up his back when he looked to the somber knight beckoning him; he knew what the reason was for even before he heard the words. Nothing could have made him leave the Great Hall faster, trailing some water in his wake as he washed his hands quickly. He had to hope he was mildly presentable in that regard, as his armor was currently stained with some blood, none of which was his; not the most ideal appearance for his knighting, but these were dire times.
He followed the man down the stairs, picking his way down carefully; one too many dives off a cliff made one more careful about their footing, even when it wasn’t necessary. How far they went, one couldn’t say, but he could feel the air grow colder and understood that where they were going was this deep underground in order to keep it secret and safe. The cavern eventually yawned before him, and Jack took it all in with quiet awe, waiting for further instructions as he scanned the area. Did he need to renew his pledge to Gawain again, perhaps? Show proof of his healing?
Apparently, there wasn’t a particular invocation or ritual he had to enact, however. Or at the very least, the man who had led him down here hadn’t said a word since calling him. Jack approached the pool of his own volition as a result, drawn in by the vision of so many weapons preserved in its depths. Magic? he thought, his instincts wanting him to back away. How were they being held like this without rusting? Was this even water? His fingers skimmed the surface experimentally before he dipped his hand in, unsure what drove him but feeling a subtle tug that led him. Intrusion. He was uncertain about things he couldn’t quantify, much less whatever this unknown influence was, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. His hand reached deeper and deeper, stretching his long arm to its limits, and then when it felt as though he might very well drop into the pool, he touched something.
They’ve stolen away in his mother’s study for now. The adults won’t think to look here, as apparently she’s not the type to voluntarily go near books or scrolls of most any type. They will look outside first, probably, he reasons. He isn’t supposed to have the key to Mother’s study in the first, but she has always allowed him to come and go. Jack is studious, after all, and a responsible, level-headed, and truly a mature individual at the tender age of ten who understands how to keep things clean, how to categorize his own belongings, and most importantly whom respects his elders and does not disturb their belongings even when given the freedom to be amongst them.
And now he’s gone and challenged that trust by bringing someone else there. A girl no less.
He reasons again, however, as that his betrothed, Chel (and her name is “Chel”, she has impressed upon him very quickly, not “Chelsea”) should be given extra allowances. He hopes this excuse will work when they are inevitably caught, because he does want them to form a camaraderie of sort if nothing else. He is not very good at making friends, is too stern-faced or too focused or intense for most of his peers; he wants at least Chel to think him decent.
Jack makes sure they aren’t doing anything particularly scandalous, however. His only interest is to show off his knowledge of healing herbs while they watch the adults scurry about on the front lawn from the window, though she’s bored in minutes. She teases him for being such a scholar, but he tries to impress upon her the importance of being able to take care of others. What if she got sick or injured by a horseman or some other foul creature? What husband would he (eventually) be if he couldn’t take care of her?
I can take care’ve myself just fine, she retorts with a lazy smile, though her blue eyes are shining with determination. It’s as though she’s telling herself just as much as she is telling him.
Jack reeled from the sudden burst of memory and gripped the weapon tight, yanking it out with a messy splash. Was that…? But…His brow furrowed deeply as he tried to analyze the memory while it was still fresh in his head, absent-mindedly turning the weapon over in his hands to investigate. He had been hoping for more answers ever since overhearing the Great Knights in the library, but this piecemeal teaser of his memories was almost enough to rile him up.
OOC
My character's name: Jack Hawthorn Character's journal link:xxx BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER [ x ] Talltalltall, sharp green eyes, blond hair, jagged scar on left side of face, somewhat stoic look Rank of character Knight-apprentice (1d4)
Posted: Sun May 10, 2015 1:36 am
LINK TO PROOF:journal SACRED WEAPON TYPE: Ranged (sounds like a Glaive would be here but *shrug* )
Damien was busy tending to Clyde, the Pony that had the fortitude of carrying him from Quest to quest, he had been recovering from the slip quite well and was able to put more weight on the leg, which Damien was glad to see the potential for a swift recovery. in the middle of his tending, the message came from the castle's page, Sealed and official with the crest of the Golden Order emblazoned on it. It was too formal, too elegant for a simple summon and for clothes covered in soot and dirt and flint. After a quick change into the common clothes, he had to respond to the summon with his presence. It was unwise to snub the call, or to keep whomever called him waiting. Was it really time? He was unsure if this was what it was like to be called up to become a full knight, he never got the pleasure of witnessing it in public. With the ranks being depleted with the frequent attacks of the wall and the courtyard, it would make sense to want to boost morale and increase their ability to do damage. Having a few more full knights would make sense if the spear user was on the right track.
The knights of his order were awaiting, donned in gear and not mentioning a word, but they all knew what was to happen, and kept silent other than the distinct stares they gave one another. within seconds of his arrival, they formed lines and proceeded down a path that Damien didn't know was present, a false wall that was hidden by an ornate painting that was gone from view. The path they walked was dark, the cellar long since past as they went deeper, the sound was echoing from the passageway and the pace was brisk, he moved to keep up with the others faster than his normal pattern. He was sure they were going to the ends of the world when the narrow passage opened into something bigger, a cavern that caught his eye.
It was not lavish at all, other than the pool of water that shined in an ethereal manner, the water looked pure and illuminated the walls that bore no shadow other than his own. It was then that he spun around to find his guides on the path to see they had gone, leaving him along with the pool, he peered closer and moved closer inch by inch, carefully. was there something that had to be done? Those who ed him here said nary a word and there wasn't anything that seemed to show or hint at what must occur. looking closer in, he could see down into the clear water, weapons of all sorts lay underneath, in a condition that he could not expect as a blacksmith's son for steel sitting in water. the cave was quiet when he came in, but moving closer, he was sure he could hear something, maybe not hear, but something was trying to get his attention as he searched the waters.
He broke the surface of the water with his fingertips, running a finger along the edge of the item that caught his rapt attention.
The tree was a marvel that he adored, a delight to have as the years went by and allowed him the luxury to hide in its shade when once it was shorter than him. The apple tree was planted on his name day, and allowed him to see what they years can do to an individual, to grow and change from seed to a mighty tree that can provide shade to others and nourishment to those in need. "You will grow too my child." he could remember the words, the two figures that wrapped their arms around his body when it came to the final moments before he was sent to learn how to be a page for a noble, the baby steps onto being a knight. "You will grow, and share your lessons with others whom will continue the passage of knowledge." He could feel their arms tightening on his body, it was comforting.
"You will be the tree who will allow new saplings to grow and blossom, never forget what that means." It was a simple farewell, filled with a lesson that he was going to keep close to his heart. It was all he had left of his Parents, not their memories, but their words of wisdom.
Damien pulled his head out of the water, shaking free droplets from his hair, unable to remember why he reached down so far, far enough to submerge. it was just as confusing why there was a memory returning to his mind, the impression was that to be a Knight, he was supposed to surrender his memories, but one came back, was it a blessing? be that as it may, it was one that he was ok with returning, something pleasant and held weight on his heart and his mind. It made him ache to feel those arms back around him again, hugging himself to keep the phantom feeling from fleeing but it does and all that was left was him and the memory.
That and the weapon that awaited him at the Pool's edge.
"So, This is what it means to be a full knight I suppose, huh?"
There was a message. That wasn't strange, as Pokerus had seen many messengers scurry about, usually passing information along to the great knights. But this time it was different. The message had come for her. She was to be summoned.
At first she didn't understand what was going on. Then realization dawned on her. She was to become a full knight. The very thought left her shocked, looking at the messenger as if he had two heads. When he walked off she quickly followed. She had very little idea of what the promotion would entail but she half expected it would involve a duel with one of the great knights. That would make sense would it? Perhaps she would finally get to talk with Sir Lancelot? That would be nice.
Instead of being lead to a dueling ring, she was lead down stairs. She briefly glanced at the cellars, then continued past them and down more flights of stairs. When the stairs ended into a large carven she was amazed at how such a place could be here under the castle.
Her gaze rested on the pool located in the middle, and she felt drawn towards the soft glowing light of the water. Briefly she realized her guide was long gone, but this did not concern her. When she drew closer to the pool she gasped, amazed at the sight of so many weapons. There must of been hundreds! They were all so beautiful. But there was only one weapon who called out to her, tugging her mind towards it. Slowly she reached for the sword that called her, her fingers brushing against the cool water. It felt so nice...
The adults whispered to each other as they watched the progression of people walk by, the few survivors of villages that were unlucky enough to be targets of the horsemen. Covered in soot and blood, they staggered onwards, looking for sanctuary from the terrors they had experienced.
She watched them all walk by, her eyes wide and fretful. Clutching her mothers hand she heard the mutterings of the adults, seeing some recoil away from the staggering mob. She couldn't fully understand what was going on, but she knew that something bad had happened, and everyone was afraid.
Then she saw him. Another child, probably a few years older then her. He followed at the back of the crowd, clothes and body equally dirty as the others, the same dazed look in his eyes.
"The poor child"
"What a horrible tragedy"
"Is he the only survivor?"
"By the looks of things"
"Do you think he'll make it?"
"Doubt it."
She gasped at these words, watching the boy walk by. So he was all by himself now? He didn't have a mommy and daddy anymore? That wasn't right...
"Whats going to happen to him?" She tugged on her moms apron. "Is he going to be alright?"
Her mother didn't answer her, eyes watching the child with concern. And then she was reaching out to him, placing a warm hand on his shoulder.
"Wait." She said to the boy, her voice calm and soothing. "Come with us."
The boy looked at her mother, obvious confused by the stranger asking him to come with them.
"Yes! Please come with us." Pokerus took hold of his hand, tugging on it with a earnest look in her eyes. "Pretty please?"
At first he didn't answer, turning his bewildered gaze onto the small child tugging on his arm. She continued to stare until finally answered, giving them both a small nod.
"YAY!" She jumped at the boy, hugging him around the middle with as big a hug as she could muster. She liked the idea of having a older brother.
Pokerus stood there in a daze, the sudden memory that had hit her sending her head reeling. She had a older brother? Where was he? Was he alright??
It felt like her heart had been squeezed, feeling very alone at this moment. But the feeling soon faded, and she became aware she was holding the sword she had picked up from the pool.
"So...is this what it feels like to be a knight?" She asked herself, gazing at the magnificent blade.
Posted: Sun May 10, 2015 3:57 am
Knight in training Danirate Levinski reached into the pool of water to respond to the call of one of the weapons out to him.
When he had been heading here, he had been thinking how at last he would be closer to finding out what becoming a true knight entails and then attain the title that he was meant to have. But now in this moment, all other thoughts faded away so all his focus was all on the call, this strong call that he knew he was meant to answer to further serve as proof of his might.
The trashing of foliage, the exclaiming clop clop clop clop that is the sound of speedily rushing hooves against the ground beneath, and the yell filled with parts of anger and parts of confusion among other swirls of hazy emotions, all of it assaulted him and his brows furrowed as though mentally fighting back to rise to confront the challenge they posed. He had been seeking out the culprit, the culprit who when he was away training had demolished where he was from, leaving it in complete ruin, pulling it further into the total darkness that took hold of the world and was attempting to consume it entirely. He remembered something, a memory. And in receiving its return, it was in line with what he had come to think in recent passing at one point in time. Indeed, it did not really matter much that he got this memory back. If it did serve any purpose, what it did do was add to the fiery flames of his resolve that where there is battle, he would be there to claim his rightful victory.
When he pulled his hand back out, in his grasp was a sword of some sort.
OOC
My character's name: Danirate Levinski Character's journal link:http://www.gaiaonline.com/guilds/viewtopic.php?t=24688945 BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER At last, after much practice, knight in training Danirate Levinski now has fairly little trouble with wielding his longsword to perform the basic strokes. However, he, this man, tall and proud, and whose crown of hair likens to that of the sun at the horizon's edge, did indeed have plenty of ground to cover still before he was capable of being recognized as a knight no longer in training, the next milestone he has set his sights on. So as to reach this next goal of his, he fully intends to continue to maintain his foundations and innovate as he proceeds onward. Rank of character knight apprentice Sacred Points obtained: ???/100
He has been called. For what? For his actions back in the Treasure Room? For killing too many chickens when breaking the drawbridge? For wasting so much food in the journeys? For getting people disgusted by him because the Dysentery? For enlisting to the Old Man's army?
He can't tell WHICH of those reasons the reason he was being summoned right now. The senior Knight leading him just said "Follow me, no questions. You'll see when we arrived."
The Knight wordlessly walked in front of him, guiding. The path they took was confusing and long. They walked down, down, and down below the Castle. Before long the brick walls has turned into solid rock, dug by hands of human. The air was not stale, but rather humid.
"We've arrived. From now you must proceed alone." The senior Knight said, and gestured him to continue walking.
It was a large cavern. Not as large as the ones he passed in Dwarven Mountains, but at least it's bigger then the Great Hall.
Amidst of the cave, something was glowing. It dimmed for a moment, but brightened the next; just like a firefly's light. He cautiously approaches the source and held his breath.
Weapons. Hundreds of them, submerged below the strangely glowing pool of water. Each of them are made perfect, from the shape to the intricate decorations added to it.
But his eye are glued to a particular one. A sword. It was quite plain compared to the others, but somehow he wanted to hold it.
The firey-orange gems seems to glow under the water. Is it his eyes playing trick, or...?
Before he know what he did, he felt something cold running up his arm: his hand has already inside the water.
*** "Dad, can I have a sword?" Asked him to his father, now reaping the wheat that has already full-grown.
The season was autumn, the season of great harvest. The children of the village are huddling around, helping their parents harvesting things they grown from spring. This year's harvest are very abundant due to the Knights repelling the Taint to further beyond the mountain range.
"Hmm? A sword? What for?" Said his dad, stopping his work. He rested his chin on top of the bronze-bladed scythe handle. "For practice! When I'm older, I want to be a Knight! And after that, I'll protect this village from Taint so you two can live peacefully!" Answered him. "Oh, silly you. We already have many Knights, what can one more kid joining in make a difference?" jabbed his mom from behind- "-and they surely don't want kids that still wet their bed at eight!" added his dad.
Fuming, Rei stomped and yelled "BUT I WANT TO BE A KNIGHT! Leeroy already gotten his training blade---and he said he'll serve under Morgan! I want to serve him too! I can do it!"
Both of his parent sighed, eyes meeting each other. Then his father replied: "Do you have it? The strength to uphold your dreams?" He walked to him and handed the scythe to his little arms---Rei falls backwards and stuck below the heavy tool.
"If you don't have it, train. That scythe---should you be able to reap the wheat next year, you can keep the portion you reaped to buy a sword-" "-DEAR!" His mother yelled. "-easy now, Luthe. It's almost impossible anyway."
But Reith did not yield. Exerting his utmost effort, he managed to push away the heavy tool from his body. Even those two are surprised.
"Then I'll take that! Just see! I'll get my own sword and become a Knight for sure!"
But the next harvest season never comes.
***
He felt his consciousness returning again. Rei can't explain what just happened to him. Is it an illusion? Is it another vision? Is it...his memories?
He stood still in the middle of the cavern. The blade is now in his hand.
OOC
My character's name: Reith Oberyn Character's journal link:Here! BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTERLooks like Avi due TekTek being dead. Rank of character Apprentice-knight. Sacred Points obtained: ?/100
There was a great deal of things going on or rather have gone on. Between the siege finally ending, the three Great Knights locked in combat, the arguments and bickering and challenges among the knights, Ruth was grateful to have been summoned. She needed to get away from the madness and the chaos, or at the very least find somewhere she could remain un-involved and merely a spectator.
Quietly following the knight, she was led down, past stairs and cellars, deeper and deeper beneath the castle until she was in a large, cavernous chamber. There, in the very center, Ruth strained to see what it was. Squinting and craning her neck, she refrained from approaching, choosing instead to wait until her eyes adjusted to her surroundings. When she could see better, she realized it was a clear, glowing pool of water.
Her head tilted in curiosity at the sight. And at the sensation of being pulled towards she regarded it with deep suspicion. The blonde angled her head to the one that led her here but they were gone.
Part of her, the logical, the cowardly part of her told her to leave. Return to the surface and feign success. She needn't go near the pool, needn't involve herself any further in this whole sordid affair of bloodshed and futile resistance. But the pool of water beckoned, and the other part of her, the part that questioned and wondered and pondered the why-fors and where-nows, urged her on.
There, at the pool, she saw weapons. Her baby-blue eyes widened in awe, feeling ashamed and angry and robbed that all she had until now was a mere cudgel. Never mind how it had served her well and allowed her to fend away the shadows.
She thrust her hand forward, greedy and eager, already knowing which weapon she wanted, no -needed. Her fingers broke through the water's surface. The water's touch broke through the seal on her memories.
------
The shadows were closing in, faster and faster, the chill and stench of their presence clawing at Ruth as she ran. She managed to remain abreast of her fellow acolytes, even as she stumbled over debris or a fallen corpse, Ruth maintained her breakneck pace.
But it wasn't enough.
Screams of agony and pain filled her ears, the crunch of bones and the struggling gasps of lungs with a surplus of blood.
No, not nearly enough.
They wouldn't be satisfied, Ruth had seen the delight on their faces, the joy and revelry in their movement as the abbey fell to flames and ruin. She should want this, shouldn't she? She'd silently told herself again and again, how she would embrace death, how she would welcome her savior and have them crush the shell of her mortality.
But deep down, where she thought she'd hidden the truth, she knew was a liar, a fraud, a hypocrite of the highest degree. Judgmental and self-righteous, she knew she truly deserved to die. The snag in her philosophy was that she still sought to survive.
Sharp teeth snapped dangerously close from behind, and Ruth dared to dart her eyes to her fellow acolytes. To her right was emptiness but to her left confirmed that she was not alone. And this put a smile on her face.
She flung her arm out and bit back a grunt of pain as her remaining companion slammed into her elbow. Ruth kicked off against the ground, using the shriek of anger and terror to push her forward in her flight.
Ruth was alone now. And this kept the smile on her face.
-----
The White Knight faltered back as the memory surged through her, confusion plain as day on her face. It took a deep breath and the count of five for her to reign in her expression and school her features to a neutral calm. She cradled the weapon to her as she ascended up the stairs a Fully Fledged Knight.
In the midst of the chaos, a hand tapped him on the shoulder.
"Woah!" Jason jumped a mile before turning around to see who it was. "O-oh, S-sorry sir. Can I help you?"
"You've been summoned. Please come with me, apprentice"
"...W-What?! M-me?!"
"Yes. Please follow me."
He was flabbergasted. He hadn't been told much, but he had gathered from others that if you were being summoned, it meant you were worthy enough to become a fully fledged knight. How he had managed to do this was beyond him, but non the less he followed the messenger through the castle and down the stairs.
Eventually he was lead into a large cave, illuminated only by the pool located in the middle, the blue liquid giving everything asoft blue glow.
He stepped forward, his fear and anxiety replaced by curiosity. Something within that pool was calling him. When Jason turned around to question the messenger he was shocked to find he was gone. For once being alone didn't frighten him, and he walked towards the pool.
Inside lay hundreds of weapons, all of different makes and styles, and each holding it's own charm. But only one weapon called out to him, and without pausing to think he reached into the waters to grasp it.
The tavern was rowdy tonight, the locals having finished work for today all coming in to forget the troubles that plagued them and wash away their problems with ale. He had never been a strong drinker, but his friend had begged him to come along and have some fun.
Said friend was laughing at some joke, grinning mischievously and pushing a glass of ale towards him. "You really need to get out more Jason. Spending all your time reading books isn't fun at all."
"But I like reading" He protested, looking at the drink with a disapproving face "And you know I don't like ale."
"Awww, come on! You don't know what you're missing!" He pressed on. "Just a small sip."
With a sigh he relented, and sipped at the drink. His faced screwed up in disgust. "Ugh, I don't know how you can stand this drink."
"It's a acquired taste." He smirked. "And by the end of the night I'll make sure you've acquired it."
By the end of said night his friend was merry, and sow as he, having managed to finish a few more glasses. They had sung many songs, laughed at many jokes, and Jason had managed to get slapped by three women. It was his friends fault of course.
"Schee, I told you thish was a great idea" He slurred to Jason, who rested his head on the counter.
"I shpose so." He rubbed his sore face, then went to get up off the stool only to fall back down. "Oomph...I can't get up..."
"I always knew you were a lightweight." Came a chuckle, and Jason felt himself being hauled to his feet. "Come on! Lets get yer drunken a** back home."
Exiting the tavern helped to clear his head, the cool night air feeling nice and refreshing. Though he was barely able to walk, his friend had more tolerance for alcohol and was able to navigate the street quite well, giving Jason a helping hand. And though he slowed him down, he never said anything, slowing his pace and waiting for him to catch up.
He may of been a scoundrel, but when push came to shove, he always helped Jason out when he needed it.
Now he stood there in the cave, wishing he had this person by his side. It was pretty lonesome here.
He did not feel this way for long, and soon enough he was exiting the cavern, his new sword in hand.
It was time for her, of all people. It was time and of course Hollandaise was nervous. Her anxiety manifested itself in twitches and fitful movements, fingers tugging at the ends of her hair, toes curling in slightly too-big boots. She wasn't aware there was such a place underneath Camelot, so deep down that the stairs made her knees ache. The knights that accompanied her said nothing, even when she had asked a question; they walked silently, steps matched and echoing. And then the stairs ended. She breathed out a small sigh of relief, resisting the urge to stretch her legs.
Instead, she was captivated by a glowing pool, full of light and water and she needed to go to it. Upon reaching it, she dropped to her knees, and her golden eyes were turned blue by the reflection of the pool. There was, for just a moment, an urge to tip forward headfirst, to bodily immerse herself in the water. She blinked and reached out her hand, fingers trailing along the surface.
------- She sings quietly, but off-key. It's less of a song and more of a small noise she makes to reassure herself she's still alive. It's hard here, she thinks. Everything is busier, louder and she just wants to go back home. But her home is empty and she has no more family. Hollandaise is a 'charity case' and she knows this - some won't let her forget. So she's taken to stealing away into the forest when it's all too much. The quiet there is gentler, more familiar and the rough scratch of bark against her skin is nice, in a way. Her foot scuffs along the old tree's branch.
Suddenly, there is a rustle in the leaves and a familiar head of black hair pokes up. She ducks her head and her small arms wrap together around her knees more tightly. He swings himself onto the branch next to her and it creaks ominously - startled, she looks up. What if it breaks? "What are you doing, Holly?" She doesn't respond and, even with her head ducked again, she can feel the puppy-dog eyes he's giving her. He's the huntsman's son, and they've been so, so kind to her. Too kind - it feels foreign, like trying to wear clothes that don't quite fit.
Hollandaise is trying to accept it; it feels nice. But there are too many uncertainties and they pile up in her small barrel of a chest until she thinks she can't breathe. And she thinks, most of all, that she's afraid if she gets to close to him that he'll disappear too. That a breeze bearing illness will sweep him away. Suddenly, she feels something touch her - he's sitting next to her and slowly stroking her hair. It makes her want to cry, but instead she smiles as brightly as she can.
"Let's go home." -------
Hollandaise gasped, taking her hand out of the water. It ran off of her new weapon is silver streams, the pool re-absorbing it without a whisper. For a moment, she shivered with something that was not cold. Her free arm wrapped around her waist and squeezed.
OOC
My character's name: Hollandaise Character's journal link:Chapter journal | Journal BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER A small but curvy girl, Hollandaise has tanned skin and brown hair shorn off in a long bob. Her eyes are golden-brown and freckles are sprinkled across her face. As a knight, she upholds the rules of knighthood rigorously. Know your place. Rank of character Apprentice-Knight
Of all times to be called upon Titus felt now was not the most opportune moment but being promoted and given a weapon would likely raise his chances of survival. It was an opportunity he couldn't so easily ignore and despite his conflicting thoughts about the matter he found himself being led down a wide set of stairs into the darker reaches of this place they called Camelot. They had gone well beyond the cellars and it was hard to imagine what was going to be waiting for him up ahead.
When the stairs opened up onto a large cavern Titus' eyes drifted about taking in the expansive room for only a moment before his gaze then settled on the glowing pool ahead of him. It was odd, eerie and unnatural and yet he was drawn to the water's edge without a doubt that he was supposed to be there. The pool was littered with weapons, hundreds of them, maybe even thousands but among the hilts of swords and daggers, bow limbs, shields, and even staves there was only one that had truly caught Titus' eye. He could hear it singing to him like a siren, drawing him closer to the water's surface in a trance.
Without a thought he reached into the water for what he had seen, the rush of cool liquid against his skin nearly stinging on contact.
"You know you have only brought this on yourself."
Titus' vision was blurry and distorted but he could still make out the figure standing over him. His father was furious, beyond furious, but it seemed their day to day interactions always ended this way. It was just today things had gone too far, Titus had made a far graver mistake than he realized. Other children were often forgiven for their short comings, it was the way they learned, but in this family there was no room for such non-sense. Though this was no small mistake, it was on a fairly large scale but Titus hadn't known.
"I know you don't give a damn most days," He could hear his father's voice, cool and collected but with just an hint of breathlessness to it. It wasn't surprising, he had no doubt exerted himself beating Titus into the floor of the barn. "But you have cost this family dearly. You let that thief into our home and what good came from it? He robbed us blind! You are lucky to have the clothes on your back!" He knelt down over Titus, cold eyes brimming with anger. "Your charity to the filth of this world has left us with nothing. What do you have to say about it? What were you thinking letting that street rat in, hm?"
It took Titus a moment to answer, the pain in his ribs making it difficult to get a full breath of air. "I'm glad..."
That answer seemed to stun his father, the man recoiling as the anger spread from his eyes to the rest of his features. "Glad? What the hell is that supposed to mean?!" He reached for Titus' hair and jerked him off the floor eliciting a yelp of pain as he brought them face to face. "You're glad he took everything? Our money? Our food? Our horses? Why pray tell would you be glad?" His father hissed.
"They're just things..." Titus managed to stammer out. "He was hungry and cold I was just-"
"Just trying to help? Is that what you are about to tell me?" His father growled, throwing Titus face first back on the floor before walking a few feet away to the small pit of coals where they had been heating their branding irons used on the cattle they owned. Lifting one from the embers he examined the red hot edge, checking it over as he made his way back to Titus.
The boy knew what was coming before his father had even reached for the hot iron and was already trying to crawl away but his injuries were making it difficult. He was halted in his tracks as a foot laid into his shoulder. "No, no father please. I didn't mean to."
"May this be a reminder not to care. We look out for our own, Titus. No one else matters." Jerking Titus' shirt up his father pressed the hot brand to his back, the flesh sizzling and burning on contact. All Titus could do was wail even after his father had pulled away and left him be on the floor. "Remember this if nothing else."
The sudden flash of a memory had Titus jolting in place like he had been shocked, his other hand reaching toward his back as if he could feel the phantom pain from the brand from the memory. Of all things to remember. He even looked around to verify that he was still indeed alone feeling a little shaken by the clarity of the memory he had discarded.
Swallowing hard he looked back down at the water where he was still reaching, his hand wrapped around the hilt of a sword. It had been calling to him and he rose back to his feet pulling it free from the pool and the other weapons scattered within it. He lifted it to have a look at the blade, sharp and perfect in the faintly glowing light. Now he was ready, he could feel it.
OOC
My character's name: Titus Laburnum Character's journal link:Link BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER He dresses in mostly darker colors, high quality tunics, fine leather boots, things that people would normally not train in. His black hair is short in the back but a little longer in the front and it often gets into his eyes but it helps distract from the dark circles from lack of sleep. Also pretty tall standing just under seven feet. LinkRank of character apprentice-knight Sacred Points obtained: ???/100
She fought as a knight apprentice, killing shadows to keep the castle safe. Wounds healed and new wounds added, they didn't stop their invasion. She pledged to Merlin, for a reason she couldn't remember, senior black knights told her about the spirit of The Code of Raven. She took a look at the crest of a black crowned raven on her and pondered - she couldn't remember. "We've sacrificed our memories as the King requested," he said. She widened her eyes, realized it was why it was empty and blank like a white paper. What did she forget? Why did she make such a choice? She wanted to know why the pre-knight Shu chose to do so.
"Follow." They reminded, a bit annoyed. Shu found she had stopped her steps, frowned and spaced out. She apologized and caught up, went down the stairs after the knight. Why she? In what qualities they saw in her qualified to be promoted? She thought a lot and missed the fact that she had been climbing downstairs for a long while. Her attention wasn't there.
The quests had her discovered how weak she was, but yet she was chosen, and that was worrying in a sense that they might be losing too quickly and it was becoming difficult to deal with the countless shadows. Thus they, apprentices, even trained for such a short time was called and pushed onto the battlefield. It wasn't she have complaints on that, but the chance of winning made her anxious.
It was big, but she could still see from here to there. Attracted by the soft glow, she walked into the chamber obliviously.
"We're there, go inside." The petite lady nodded and walked in, too close to the pool and wanted to maybe asking one or two questions. There was no one besides her.
She first scooped up a handful of water, and let the water drained between her fingers. It was of a lovely glowing color. There were many weapons in the pool sacredly like a sleeping beauty: bows, daggers, axes, spears and so on. Her weapon was a pair of Chakram, but she found herself stared at the swords, a particular one within many.
Shu was enthralled and immersed her hand into the water for it -
A sharp pain struck her brain, she moaned in anguish -
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- "What's this Noemi?" Eyes sparkling, her finger hooked the necklace which had a beautiful pendant hanging on it, a charming green gem inlaid within. The two decided that it was girl time and went to a plain near their village, there were many beautiful flowers and they were making flower crowns.
Another girl blushed with a sweet smile, telling her it was from Milo, her fiance, a symbol of their engagement. The two girls would share all the secrets, about the boys they liked and gossips of their neighbours. "The loud and perky guy? I know you two are engaged, but I haven't seen 'this'. Are-you-deliberately-hidding-it-from-me?" She asked, with a up-to-no-good smile, she raised her hands up and wiggled her fingers, then she hopped to tickle another girl. The two fell onto the flower cushion, grasses and wild flowers got into their hairs as they played.
"Ok, I surrender, stop Noemi stop." After a while, she said, panting to recover for the excessive laughing. "I will get you next time, let's continue with our work." They went back to find their work-in-progress. "What a luck." The flower crowns were not harmed at all. She finished it first and gently put onto her head, "Tada~! Forget-me-not, also your favourite color." she beamed, "Mimi why can you be so cute so pretty, it's so offensive." She hugged and deliberately rested her head on her laps. Feeling the weight on her head, she peeked from below, "Aww, it's pink, so lovely. Are you making one for Milo as well? No? Why? He's a boy? It's the heart that matters." She pointed a finger between her chest. "Let's make a forget-me-not one, to match with yours." She didn't tell her the flower had another meaning - true love, faithful love and memories.
"Done. He will like it, believe me." She winked to her best friend, who she was helping for a bigger size of flower crown. "Oh no Mimi, the sky is getting dark. Evan will come and make us dinner right? Ahhhh my tummy's drumming loud, let's go home." She whined and grabbed her friend to run towards the village, hopped and bounced joyfully like a bunny -
A few steps from their home, she could sniff the good smell of food. "Let's bet a token. I guess - vegetable pottage, bread and berries, I know they went to the forest." She licked her lips, thinking of how great the dinner would be- in the warm dim lights, they stepped in the house -
==============================================
Shu felt resistance as she moved forwards - into......house-? She jolted and stepped back, blinked a few times, she wasn't in a small house, but a spacious room. It was the water of the pool that blocked her way, her Cotte was immersed in the glowing water and made sounds as she moved upstairs. She was in a trance, a trance that beckoned the lost memory. She squished her hands for an action, but found she was holding something. Bringing it up, she saw a sword, it was the one calling her since she showed up.
Carefully put the sword aside, she held up her knees and buried her head within, she needed some time to calm down. Her friends.....she forgot all of them and moved on by herself. She would find them and apologize if they still remembered her.
Yet, the reason why she determined to be a knight was still a mystery.
She felt like she lost something very precious that her heart torn apart, she won't allow it to happen twice, she would protect her friends, by all means.
She picked up the sword again, a sacred weapon that would bestow her more power, she smiled in satisfaction.
The twenty-five year old was just returning from a quest - the retrieval of the Greater Pauldrons of the Black Opal - when a castle page came to him with a letter in hand. For a moment, he was frustrated, exhausted, and dirty. He simply wanted to unpack, get Cedric situated, and cleaned up. However, the page did not stop following him from the gate through the outer courts, and to the stables. Stepping down from the saddle, he gave the page a hard side-eye as he began to undo the saddle bags.
"What is it?" He groaned. He should be more polite. He had better manners than that. He was tired. He was just... exhausted. Hanging his head, he let out a sigh. "Forgiveness, my friend, I am exhausted and starved from my most recent trip. Finding this one," He patted the inky, black horse's shoulder with a muffled thud. "proved to be difficult after he had sprinted off without me. What is it that you have for me?"
"I understand. It is a letter from the Black Order." He proffered the letter in question. The envelop was an off black with gilt leaf embroidered along the frame. On the back, a wax seal of the raven - the animal that embodies the Black Order. "It is from Sir Merlin."
"Sir Merlin?" Uru questioned with surprise, his brows jumping up at the information. "Is it a summon? An order perhaps?"
"I do not know, sir." The castle page spoke lowly.
"Thank, my friend. You may go, your task has been completed." Uru offered. The boy bowed his head and took off toward the main hall. Uru turned the letter in his hand, tapping it idly against the palm of his hand as he looked at Cedric who was busying himself with hay. If it was a summons, he best be cleaned and presentable. If it was an order or a mission, he must be prepared. Throwing the saddle bags over his shoulders, he returned to his quarters to get cleaned up. By then he'd have a clear mind to take in what was written.
----
Uru arrived at the Great Hall before being ushered in by Sir Merlin. Or at least, someone who was representing him based on the raven tabard. The knight-apprentice offered the broken seal envelop to the envoy who took it delicately. Nodding once, he requested that the apprentice to follow. Down winding halls, he knew they were going downward somewhere. Down and down they went, he kept his hand on the wall to keep himself balance as they winded down further and further. Soon the structured walls of stone of the castle became disjointed and dispersed into a single piece of stone. Before long, the pathway gave way to an opening allowing one to view the large cavern beneath the castle. Never had he been down here. He did not venture where he was not allowed. He knew his way around the castle, but never to parts he was - felt - he shouldn't be. As he walked down the steps, he noticed the glowing pool of water that rested at the center of the room, something gleaming beneath the surface with each movement he made. It was as if he wasn't looking at the same pool of water every second he was there. It was changing, something else was glimmering or something else was shining. Quite curious. As he reached the bottom, he could not find the envoy anywhere. Was he not here? Surely he was in front of him. He was following him down and... he was not here. Curiouser and curiouser.
As he stood beside the pool, he noticed what he was seeing on his way down. Weapons. Swords. Great Swords. Glaives. Spears. Bows. Quivers. Daggers. Staves. Shields. Lances. Javelins. As his eyes surveyed the weapon cache, his head suddenly stopped on one in particular. There was no explanation as to why he was locked on that item, but he couldn't pull himself from looking at it. As if involuntarily, he reached forward to it, his finger tips gazing the surface of the pool.
----------
"You are quite skilled with that, son."
"You said said I was good with the skinning knife!" The boy laughed as he swung the wooden fence post.
"A skinning knife and a sword are two very different things, little one. A sword is much heavier and holds a lot more responsibility." The older man spoke, kneeling beside a similar fence post. He pointed to the boy with a hammer. "While a skinning knife can help feed and support a family. A sword can protect, but also kill."
"N-no! I can protect with a sword, right? I could protect the tannery, the farm, the family. I could protect us!" The boy cried as he waved the sword in the air, as if posing majestically.
"Haha, well, then, Uru. You would protect this farm? You would protect the tannery? The family?" The father questioned with a smile.
"Of course! The tannery is where you work! The farm is my home! And you're my family!"
"Even if tannery is not what you want to do?" The father questioned.
"Because you work there!"
"Even if you have to wake up early in the morning to tend to the cows? The chickens?" The father asked witha raised brow
"If I protect them, can I not tend to the cows?"
The father chuckled. "We are your foster family, Uru."
"Family is family. I'll protect you."
----------------------
He found himself kneeling beside the pool, his fingers no longer touching the water as he looked at his reflection. When did he shed the tear? Why did he feel so defenseless and boneless? Why did he feel... uncertain? Swallowing down whatever doubt he had, he struck his hand into the pool, grasped the hilt of the blade and pulled it free.
He didn't want to feel that way anymore.
OOC
My character's name: Uru'baen Character's journal link:Journal BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER Twenty-five years old, long dark hair tied up. Commoner's clothing with leather fitting. Blue eyes. Wields a basket-hilt sword. Rank of character apprentice-knights. Sacred Points obtained: ???/100
