A Hero's Quest: Eye of the Demon Emperor

Time for questioning.

"What was Baragar like?" you ask. The two of them apparently worked together.

"Well, nina," Senor Fred stops to think. "He had a great sense of justice! Like me!" Senor Fred pointed his thumb at himself with closed, proud eyes, before looking back at you. "He was also really tough. Even I couldn't beat him, and that's a lot coming from Senor Fred. Though he did have a penchant for nasty tricks."

"Tell me about yourself," you request.

"I was born in... when was it again? Gods, I can't remember..." Senor Fred clicks his fingers. "I was born in the year three-hundred... or, was it six... wait..."

"Okay, you don't remember."

"No-no. I do," he protests. "Just let me think..." Senor Fred performs some kind of mathematics, muttering equations under his breath and counting years.

"Strange," he snaps. "I remember Espanian history to a dot, but I can't recall my own birthdate... hijo de puta... Anyway, as I was saying. I was born sometime and somewhere. I recall being a General for the Espanian army before I decided to abandon it in favor of becoming an adventurer! And then I met your grand-pappi! We met in an obscure fort and decided to work together after I valiantly stepped in and saved him from a dragon!"

You frown in amusement. "He was fine on his own, was he?"

"Yes, he was," Fred admits with mild shame.

"Last question. Do you know how to break powerful curses?"

"As a matter of fact!" Senor Fred raises his finger into the air, heroically. "No," he admits dryly and without timbre.

You begin walking away. "BUT!" You stop and look at Fred. "I think being cursed is a good thing."

"What are you talking about?"

"Take it from me, senorita. By the time I was a lad," Senor Fred begins proudly, "I had over twenty-eight curses adorning my spirit like golden badges of valor! For, nina, you see - pain is weakness leaving the body! The more you suffer, the stronger you become!"

Well, that explains a lot. If he had twenty-eight curses by the time he was a 'lad' there's no doubt he would get cursed with memory loss and eternal life as an unfeeling revenant somewhere along the way. Oddly, this arrangement seems to be working out just fine for him.

"Never took you for a masochist," you snark dryly.

"Senorita, please. I am a justice-thirsting hero, not a lusting sinner."

"Pfffsht, whatever. That reminds me, did you ever get married?"

"Although women swoon over me, because of my fabulous glamour, and though a stallion in bed––" Senor Fred takes out a Spiderman Hair Comb and uses it to adjust his hair, before putting it back. "––I remain unmarried. However, I did father several children back in the day with a woman I loved, but I had to abandon her for the sake of her own safety. I wonder where my little ninos ran off to."

Senor Fred muses dramatically.

This guy is a complete waste of time.

"Ha-ha!" Senor Fred smirks at the camera, then winks seductively.


You return back up the way you came, leaving Senor Fred alone with the soldiers overtaken by horror. After making your way through the Inner Sanctum and going past several tombs, you finally make it. You walk up to your mother, who still seems to be figuring out the puzzle.

"How's it going?"

"I'm not quite done yet. I told that goofy skeleton to leave me alone, because he started flexing and telling me how great his biceps it."

"That's Fred, alright."

...

"So, can I help?"

"Feel free to take a look," Leona gives you some light with her torch.

You look at the riddle. It's a wall, with numerous, two-dimensional squares. On each of them is some kind of unusual pattern, like a crest, painted in gray. You stare, and analyze, and try to make what you can of it. You try to perceive some kind of pattern, and finally, you do. There's a repeating sequence of three crests per row, but you can't tell much more than that.

"The shapes repeat in every row."

"I noticed that. I'm just trying to put together what it means."

"You never did this before?"

Leona shakes her head. "It was open since I was a little girl."

"Well, let me know if you can get it open."

You decide to return to Senor Fred and ask him for advice in the upcoming war. You don't really have the intent of staying in these creepy catacombs and exploring them on your own. You never know when you stumble upon a wraith that just so happens to have a particularly bad mood this afternoon.


"A war?! There's a war?! Por supuseto..." Senor Fred's eyes light up with blue fire. "The hated Hirpan Empire is attacking again! We must stop th––"

"No, actually."

"Oh... then... Elucifer is attacking?"

"No. And I have no idea who Elucifer is."

"Hmmm..." Senor Fred clicks his skeletal fingers. "Master Junji went rogue! Is he peeping on the innkeepers again?! Unacceptable!" Senor Fred waves his hand and prepares to draw his sword, but your interruption stops him again.

"No, damn it, and I have no idea who you're referring to."

"An old... comrade," Senor Fred explains awkwardly. "Okay, then it was... no, it cannot be our hated enemy! Turenval has returned?! We must prepare our cannons and a fort! And archers with fiery arrows! Oh, oh, and––"

"No, you buffoon," you say, but you don't tell him who the war is with. His guesses are incredibly amusing, and to some extent even informative.

"Urm... I have no idea... is... is Reina in danger? Did Pandora get possessed by an angel again? James got stuck in a mana vortex? Is Mireille in trouble?!"

Senor Fred keeps muttering different theories about the enemy you are at war with, one theory after another, without skipping a beat. "The Drifter has returned? Or... or Lilith escaped her containment? Woguran?! Akena?! It can't possibly be Kyro, we killed him!"

Senor Fred gasps in shock. "Is it my fangirls?! Do not tell me it is my fangirls, senorita! Have a heart!"

"A lot of names leave your mouth, but not much knowledge," you laugh at Senor Fred, who stumbles, trying to figure out who started the war. "We're at war with Estal, a country to the north."

"I see, I see... then it is a new enemy to overcome! Fabulous! We will sow seeds of justice and bravery, like heroic farmers, senorita!"

"By the way, care to explain all of those names to me? Who's Elucifer, who's Master Junji, who's... Turenval?"

"They are our most hated enemies, senorita! Where we stand as paragons of justice, they are the immortal symbols of evil," Senor Fred poses for dramatic flair. Despite that, his eyes stare at you with utter solemnity, giving some kind of gravity to his words.

"Except for Master Junji, he's just a pervert," he breaks the gravity without missing a beat.

Pick several characters for Fred to expand on. Up to 4.

[] Elucifer.
[] Master Junji.
[] Turenval.
[] Reina.
[] Pandora.
[] James.
[] Mireille.
[] The Drifter.
[] Lilith.
[] Woguran.
[] Akena.
[] Kyro.

Time: Afternoon
Calendar: 1006-01-16

"The Drifter," Senor Fred exclaims solemnly. His voice actually manages to sound normal and completely serious for once.

"He... he was such a good boy once. When Elucifer started taking over, Dilate Baragar took up the Crimson Riot. Using it, he challenged Elucifer to a duel and sacrificed himself for the greater good with an attack that swallowed them both. He was so little that day. Smaller than you, nina. Barely but a boy. And when he came back as the Drifter, corrupted by darkness, I've never felt more regret because of fighting someone."

"Wait... Dilate Baragar? Who's that?"

Senor Fred blinks in surprise. "Don't you know? Baragar had three children. Dilate Baragar; the first son, Conrad Baragar; the second son, and Arianne Baragar; the only daughter. When your grand-pappy was in a coma after his duel with Elucifer, Dilate was the only one of Baragar's children old enough to stand up for this world. And he was willing to give his life for it."

You've never heard of this story, or of 'Dilate Baragar.' You know about Conrad Baragar, though. He is your direct ancestor. He is a link in the chain of blood connecting you with Baragar.

You decide to move on. "What about Elucifer? Why is he called Elucifer?"

"Because he was a megalomaniac, nina. He renamed himself in the fallen angel's aspect because he thought of himself a man who became God," Fred paused. He thought for a moment, his pause dragging for a second or two. "Well, he wasn't wrong, technically. And he almost took over all of Terra, until brave little nino I mentioned stopped him."

"And who are Lilith and Pandora?"

"Do you know physics, amiga?" Senor Fred asked nonchalantly, yet bluntly.

"Well, urm, kind of?"

"For every action..." Senor Fred starts, leaving the rest off to you.

"There is an equal and opposite reaction?"

"Precisely," Fred clicks his finger. "So when the Elder Dio created the world, while he created time and space, he also destroyed in equal measure. But since he didn't want to destroy what he created, he destroyed what didn't exist. This created a force we know as entropy, nina - the anti-creation. The end."

"The end?..."

"The end indeed. Lilith, dear nina, is entropy. She exists to destroy what was created. She is the equal and opposite reaction. She exists only to play with mortals and torture them. And she's mean! Fortunately, the Elder God gave us a neat tin can! And we locked her in it, so she's not a problem, at least for now!" Senor Fred grins proudly.

Senor Fred's grin stops. He just stares, completely speechless for a moment, incapable of putting his thoughts together and speaking to you. You clear your throat audibly, breaking him out of it. Senor Fred looks at you, then begins explaining.

"Pandora, she's... urm..."

For the first time since you met him, Fred is speechless. "Heh... she's..."

Fred thinks about a proper epithet. "An interesting woman. Pandora was a paladin, a... rather destructive one. She worked with us, but then she was possessed by an angel and took off somewhere on a holy quest. We've never heard from her again until she broke into our fort and we discovered her rehabilitation after being possessed for several years went..."

"Went what?"

"Went wrong, it did."

You shrug. "And what about–––"

"Solved it," Leona interrupts you walking down the stairs. "Let's go."

"Talk to you later," you say to Fred, then run in Leona's direction.


The two of you walk back to the riddle. The patterns are arranged in a repeating sideway pattern, and next to the riddle, a passage to yet another staircase is open. You and Leona proceed upstairs, and you hope not to get scared again like you did with Senor Fred.

The two of you reach the first floor of the Inner Catacombs. You walk past many crossings, with many graves in the walls, with many names. Almost all of them ending in 'Baragar' as the surname. The scarcely lit torches lightened the way to the tower. You and your mother proceeded up the 50-meter long flight of stairs until you made it.

It's His grave.

You are at the top of the tower, surrounded by fractals that let the sun's light inside.

Before you is a small, humble construction. A stone coffin, similar to a sarcophagus. On the walls of the chamber, are several more graves, including one called 'Leona Baragar' and 'Little Baragar.' You look at your mother in surprise, tugging her.

"Why is your name on that?"

"Leona is a common name passed down in our family. I was named after my great grandmother. This Leona, here, was Baragar's wife."

"And who's 'Little' Baragar?"

"Their pet lizard."

"Oh."

The two of you kneel and pray.

And you pray.

And you pray...

And pray.

And pray...

You pray...

Ten minutes of constant thanksgivings pass. Suddenly, you feel a warmth on your hip. A warmth, like that of a torch. You look down and you see something peculiar.

"Mom."

Leona looks at you. "Good heavens!" she calls, standing up.

Excalibur is glowing. You draw it, right there.

"Be careful with that!" Leona warns. "First time it did that with me, I blew up half the mansion on accident!"

"S-s-sorry!" you draw Excalibur, it stops glowing. "Why is it activating?"

"Because He heard you, Artoria," Leona looks at Baragar's grave. It makes sense. There may be an archangel inside, but he answers to Baragar first and foremost. Being with your grandfather reminded him who's in charge. Perhaps he will start listening to you?

The two of you look at the grave together, and then...

SNAP-SWOOOOOOOOOSH!

A yellow, thin rope attaches itself to Leona's leg from down the stairs. It happens faster than your eyes can register, and both you and Leona realize what happened only after it happened. Leona is pulled down the stairs and you can hear brief sounds of combat from below.

"Mom!"

You run down the stairs, after her. As you run down the stairs, you hear swords clashing, but then one opponent disarms the other.


You enter the darkened catacombs. Torch in hand, you walk down and you see a pair of figures in the darkness. Your mother is one of them, with a hand on her mouth, keeping her from talking, and her body tied tightly by the same yellow rope that pulled her down.

"This rope was made for restraining dragons," the man's voice exclaims. It is low-pitched, apathetic and dark. The voice of the man is cold and callous.

"Leave my mother alone!" you demand.

"All it will take is one, swift push of my right wrist to destroy her internal organs," the figure's eyes ride from you to his right hand. You follow them, and you see a glowing sword in his hand, its blade almost piercing through Leona's armor and into her flesh.

The figure moves his left hand off of Leona's face, taking a pair of chain handcuffs and throwing it in your direction.

"Don't do it!" Leona yells before the grey-haired figure forces her shut again with his left hand.

"Put them on and your mother is free to go. Your only other option is to fight me, which endangers her life."

"Who are you?"

"They used to call me Wolf. White Wolf. They don't call me anything anymore," his voice remains callous and apathetic.

You hear footsteps from downstairs. The soldiers? Senor Fred?

"You have ten seconds, then I kill the hostage and flee. Capturing you is not worth being captured myself, but now I've given you a reason to comply. Do what you will."

The footsteps get closer. You stand, frozen by the heat of the moment. Leona looks at you with protesting eyes. Just her look is enough to tell you that you shouldn't do what he's saying, but what if there is no better choice? Damn it, where's Cervitou when you could really use him?

"Five," he counts down.

And closer.

"Four."

You can almost hear them.

"Three."

[] Put the handcuffs on.
[] Use Excalibur.
[] Distract him. How?
-[] Write-in.

Time: Afternoon
Calendar: 1006-01-16

You draw Excalibur, whipping it out in an instant into your now magically-reinforced arms. Your body moves together in one, uniform motion. Like a calm leaf in a raging storm, Excalibur shines brightly lightening even the dimmest corner of the room. Before the attacker can realize what is going on, a yellow tide of holy energy is halfway through the hall.

Excalibur's attack connects, burning the attacker, leaving your mother undamaged and freeing her. Leona kicks the opponent further back. He manages to sneak in a grazing hit to her back, but lets go of the sword as a result. As he lets go of her momentarily, the rope releases Leona, who retreats back in your direction and stands beside you with her sword drawn.

Whoever your enemy is, he is still standing. You can see the outline of his body. While it is hard to calculate the damage, the opponent is very intelligent to stay in the shadow where you can't see him and therefore catch a grip on his status. His sword lies halfway between you and him.

BZHHTTT!

An ear-piercing sound scares you. A red light flares into existence on the other side of the hallway, in the shape of a long line. "I was told to bring you back. He didn't specify you had to be alive."

Upon closer inspection, the line of light is... a sword. He drew another sword. It moves slowly in the darkness. Suddenly, the line moves in a familiar, fast, vertical motion. Before you realize it, the light intensifies. He swings his sword. Instinctively, your arms move and Excalibur attacks with a wave of gold once again. Midway to the enemy, the wave of gold collides with another ––– a wave of red color. The two tides clash and nullify each other's power, however, the immense force of the wind still breezes past your ears and hair.

And then, you hear the footsteps come to an end. Senor Fred stands at the other end of the hallway. The skeleton grins proudly, unsheathing his sword and pointing it at the attacker. Speaking of which, you still didn't get a good look at him. It appears he blends well with the darkness, so you can't get a good look at him, except for his determined, glowing, red eyes and the accompanying blade.

Senor Fred takes the spotlight. The soldiers behind him are too afraid to approach the figure in the darkness.

Senor Fred calls out. "I have a strange feeling I've met you before, amigo. What is your name?"

"Armando," the figure answered, in clear, dry satire.

"Armando, I see, that name suits you!" Senor Fred answers, taking it seriously. "Yet, I do not recognize that name."

"Well! Let's jog your memory then, shall we?" The mysterious man amasses force in his legs and leaps at Fred. Fred stands his ground and blocks the attack. Their blades cross with such power that it creates pure, red light and sparks. The sparks reveal the opponent's body to you.

He has white, long, unkempt hair. His red eyes are like furious incisions. On his torso, he has some kind of thick metal that doesn't seem to be armor - it's a part of his actual body structure. Most of it, however, is covered by a dark gray cape. On the rest of his body, he wears a shadowy suit and a pair of black boots.


"Missed me, uncle?"

Fred's face twists into shock. Your expression follows Fred's, as you come to the realization of putting one and two together. Red sword, recognizes Senor Fred, wasn't terrified by Senor Fred.

"The Drifter..." you whisper.

Suddenly, while their swords are still connected, the Drifter holds onto his with his right hand, while he uses his left to grab a dagger and stab Fred in the neck. The cut goes uninterrupted and sinks deep in between the bones keeping Fred's head attached to the rest of his body, but it doesn't make him collapse. It seems to be a mere inconvenience, not letting him look too much down, rather than actually harming him. The Drifter is visibly annoyed by this.

BAM!

Fred amasses force in his neck. Like a cap stuck between two fingers pressing with great force, the dagger shoots back out. Its pommel hits the Drifter in the face, stunning him for long enough to allow Fred to cut him clean across the chest with his rapier. This appears to damage the Drifter, as he retreats back into the darkness. "En guard!" Senor Fred calls out.

"Draconium Rope!" the Drifter calls out, more like an incantation. At his word, the yellow rope that your mother was caught in, becomes animated. It flails around like a snake for a moment, before jumping wildly in the Drifter's direction and wrapping itself around his left arm. The Drifter looks around and calculates the situation he is in. He estimates whether he can win this to his satisfaction, or whether retreat is the only viable solution.

He isn't left with much time to think. Ten shards of razor-sharp ice shoot at him. The Drifter swings his sword as much as he can but only manages to knock down eight out of ten. One of them crashes against his dermal armor while the other manages to cut him across his left cheek.

The Drifter groans. "I'll be lenient. Just yield. Now."

"You're in no position to demand that from us," you answer boldly.

"Fine. So be it. Never complain I didn't give you the chance."

The Drifter rises his sword far above his head, about to unleash some kind of attack, but before he can do anything...

"To return hope to hearts who lost it! To help surpass the boundary to those who crossed it! To cure despair! Evil beware!" Senor Fred calls out, interrupting the Drifter from doing what he was about to do. Everyone in the room stares at Fred awkwardly.

"Sometimes, I amaze myself," Fred exclaims, clutching his chin and sheathing his sword calmly and nonchalantly. This is completely unrelated to his heroic speech.

The Drifter looks underneath his legs, to find that a good chunk of the floor was literally cut out while Fred was distracting everyone with the bizarre monologue. Against gravity itself, the Drifter floats in the air for several seconds while his eyes adjust to the surprise. The Drifter, still holding the sword above his head, looks up at the camera. In a second, his potential energy turns into kinetic energy and the Drifter kicks off flying to the floor below, much like in a Looney Toons cartoon, and leaves behind a white, thick cloud and trail of smoke that indicates fast movement.

What is on your mind is how exactly Fred accomplished the deed of cutting the floor out because doing it alone is implausible at best. He literally drew attention to himself with the heroic speech, yet he is the only one who could perform the act of cutting the floor out unless he had some sort of help.

Fred smiles at the camera with heroic self-confidence. He takes out a Batman™ hair comb and fixes his hair. "Will Senor Fred beat the Drifter? Will Artoria Baragar get a cool hair comb? Who is the Drifter working for? Jump in after me to discover the truth on the next part of... A Hero's Quest: Eye of the Demon Emperor!"

"Mom, what is he talking about?" you ask.

Leona shakes her head. "I think he went off his rocker cooped up in here for so long. That, or he just broke the fourth wall."

"Banzai!" Senor Fred jumps down the hole he made.

[] [Action] Follow him. He'll need help.
[] [Action] He's Senor Fred. He can handle it. Just let him deal with Dilate, or, as he is called now - the Drifter.
-[] [Action] Remain up here and observe.
-[] [Action] Yell at the soldiers for not doing their work.
-[] [Action] Use Ice Magic to help Senor Fred from a distance.
[] Ask Leona to call Cervitou here. Cervitou is the best problem-solving machine on this planet. And he would probably make a decent interdimensional can opener too. This would be too much of a hit for your pride. Option restricted from being a write-in.
[] [Action] Write-in.

(Note: His 4th Wall Perceptions sometimes do extend to other characters. A bandit he encountered once literally said: "He broke the 4th wall, get him!" like I mentioned before. Just telling you that the above is a faithful reproduction of how he really was. I understand Fred can be obnoxious, and that's why you have this set of choices before you.)
[] [4th Wall Toughness] Senor Fred is fine as he is.
[] [4th Wall Toughness] The 4th Wall can take a lot of punishment, but Fred is dishing too much of it. Let's take it a step-down, but keep it relatively similar.
[] [4th Wall Toughness] Senor Fred needs to notch down a little - he didn't break the 4th wall; he blew it up with a bundle of dynamite. This has to stop.
[] [4th Wall Toughness] Revoke 4th Wall clarity from Senor Fred by means of losing the Elder God's favor.

Time: Afternoon
Calendar: 1006-01-16

Mana: 185/200

You and Leona run to the edge and look down.

One versus one. Senor Fred against the Drifter. Senor Fred is a mighty swordsman, much stronger and faster than the Drifter, however, the latter's body is incredibly tough thanks to that durable, gray armor all over his body. They both fight at borderline superhuman speeds, much like the fight between Galiel and Leona several weeks ago. Fred clearly has the upper hand, constantly following the retreating Drifter across the crypt below. Having a good chance to help, you aim with your finger.

Three shards of ice grow out of the air, floating around your finger until you shoot them in the Drifter's direction. As they are shot, new ones grow in their place, only to be shot again. The Drifter doesn't seem to have enough finesse to handle two opponents at once, so he instead rises his sword and fires a red beam at you, but Fred intervenes, cutting him across the shoulder. The Drifter's sword flies to the right, cutting half of the ceiling in half and making numerous boulders and rocks fall. Now you understand why ancient dungeons are in such a state of disrepair.

SSSSSHLANG!

Fred cuts surely and deeply across the Drifter's chest, leaving a hole in his dermal armor. The Drifter falls onto his back, with a mixture of blood and some kind of dark, inky substance flowing out of his wound. Senor Fred points his sword at the Drifter. "You lost, amigo. Give up, now!"

The Drifter's body jumps in an instant. He snaps into place, raising his sword to the sky with both hands. "Crimson Rebellion!"

KHRAAAA!

The ground shakes and the heavens scream. The Drifter's sword emits a bright light, blinding you. The light is followed by a wave of pure force that pushes you, Leona, onlooking soldiers, and even Senor Fred back, throwing everyone whole meters away. The wind in your hair practically roars.

A few seconds pass. You lay on the stone ground, speechless.

"Are you okay?" Leona turns to you, with your health being her first concern.

"Yeah," you mutter, standing up and offering your mother a hand. Both of you proceed back to the edge. You look through the hole in the floor and find Senor Fred, or rather, parts of him. Fred's bones are scattered all across the floor. A fractal window is broken, indicating the Drifter jumped out through it and escaped.

"His sword is impressive," Leona admits. "It can probably compete with Excalibur."

"Probably?" You recoil in surprise.

"Yes."

...

"Well, that's scary," you shudder.


"Don't you want to stay with us and go to war, Senor Fred?" you ask of the skeleton, now sitting upon his horse.

"I apologize, amiga," he shakes his head. "I can't do that. I must go after the Drifter, for he is a villain a step above the ordinary. Whatever he and his masters are up to goes against justice, so I must stop him. I am sure we will cross paths again, senorita. Until then... adios!"

Senor Fred's horse turns around, then drives off into the distance at high speed. "Rapido, Pedro, rapido!" The hooves of the horse leave behind a cloud of snow and dust behind them. Senor Fred disappears behind the horizon, looking heroic until the last second of visual contact you have.

You turn to Leona. Both of you are ready to set back out and be on your way. "How long will it take until we're at the Estal border?"

"A month," Leona retorts with crushing honesty. Not a lot of people can take a month of travel in the middle of winter. The weather is really harsh, but since the pay is good, many of the mercenaries will stick to you like flies to a beetroot.

"What happens when we arrive at Sinclair's castle?"

"Conflict and death, Artoria. I do not welcome them, but I accept them, and you must be prepared to do so when we arrive."

"Yes, mother," you nod confidently. If you are to die in any of the following battles, so be it. You will be remembered as the war heroine who died to protect her country. That's more than a lot of people who were given the chance can say.

With that, Leona sets off and leads the army onward and you follow your mother.


Days passed. Last night, you arrived in Castle Sinclair and your army reconvened with General Sinclair's army. After taking some time to resupply, you set off beyond the border of battle and to the Estalian city of Waeke. From the reports you received, the fighting here was going on for almost a year, so a lot of the local terrain was razed and destroyed by constant bombardments from catapults and magic spells.

And then, you present a plan to General Sinclair, which he approves of. Ten kilometers south of Waeke, you detach from Leona and Sinclair's forces, assigned a squad of fifty-eight men under your command, including six mages. Your team is to infiltrate the city from the sewers using earth magic and attempt to get past the walls.

You lead your men to the western side of the city and order your mages to begin digging using Earth Magic. After several hours, you gain access to the sewer system and you begin an internal assault and sabotage of the enemy's resources. In a day, the enemy surrenders due to the sudden disappearance of their food.

More days pass. You participate in several skirmishes with the enemy, as well as two major battles under two major cities. As the war goes, days, even months fly off of the calendar like they are hairs flying off of the head of a balding man. By Spring, the front pushes twenty kilometers inland, until the last of the enemy's bastions finally reach the very edge of Albion. The vast foes go on their boats and flee back to the island of Estal. You have protected the fatherland.

However, protection is not enough. It is time for vengeance. This is a war, after all. The enemy must be punished. His territories taken away from him. His armies put to shame. His king forced to admit surrender. Starting tomorrow, you, Leona, and many other leaders of Albion's armies will begin a united invasion of Estal, just days after pushing the enemy from the borders.

You're a veteran at this point, however, your mind is becoming tired. This war wasn't the glory you expected it to be with such excitement. It's just travel, then battle, then travel, then battle. Nothing to write legends about, nor something to be remembered fondly by. Although you can overhear commanders speak your name with dread, fearing you because you killed a Greater Dragon, none of them really respect you as an equal.


Last night, Cervitou paid your mother's tent a visit. The two argued as they always do until Cervitou departed. You thanked him once again for the gauntlets before he left to return to whatever stuff Cervitou usually does when he's not with Leona for their monthly, heated argument.


The war so far isn't as bloody as you expected it to be, but some of your comrades died. Each soldier lost is a scar on your mind, but you're doing this for a just cause. You are doing this to beat an enemy who attacked Albion unprovoked. You are doing this to enact justice. And all those who sacrificed themselves for this goal deserve to be called heroes. There is no other word you'd rather use, and there is no one else you'd rather ride into battle with than fellow heroes.

Roland and Roderick are also at the camp you are in. This may well be the last chance you get to socialize... actually, that statement applies to every social interaction you perform, but it carries more weight when you are a leader during a large-scale open armed conflict between two sovereign nations. Maybe you should consider talking with someone? Putting some of the stress from the battles off?

You get up from your bedroll in the morning, awoken by horns.

You put some clothes on, stretch, do some morning calisthenics, and you leave your tent then get a good look around. Next to you is your mother's tent, several other tents belonging to minor army commanders and more important mercenaries hired by her, as well as a great number of large, communal tents belonging to the soldiers under her.

Several soldiers, without armor, walk by you, carrying pots of water from the local stream, followed by several chefs carrying slabs of meat from the local hunters. They are about to prepare breakfast, it seems. The first meal of the day is the most important one, but, oh, how you miss your home. Not because of your family –––– everyone is here with you, after all. No. You miss home because of your own, personally selected cooks and chefs. The ones you chose for their outstanding talent and the quality of the food they cook. You miss the taste of sweet strawberry desserts and tough, juicy steaks. You miss the taste of scrambled eggs and freshly-gathered cucumbers covered with various sauces. The military food is meager at best, although to be fair, it does fill you rather nicely.

You sigh.

CLANG! Someone bumps into you and falls over.

"Oh, sorry, I should have moved out of the way," you look to your right, at said person.

"No need, it was my fault," he replies, looking at you with a dumb smile. You smile back and offer the boy a hand. He's not much older than you.

"Thanks," he accepts the help. "I'm Lancel. Lancel Ott. I'm a Paladin Acolyte. This War is like a graduation for me, actually."

"Really? That's cool," you exclaim in moderate joy. Getting to know new soldiers is a daily thing at this point. New comrades come and leave, but you should make friends while you can. Who knows which one of them is the one who will have to keep your back safe, or deliver your last words? "I'm Artoria Baragar."

"Artoria..." his jaw drops and his eyes widen. "Baragar?"

"That's right. Don't make a big deal out of it," you snap him into reality.

Lancel nods. "I'm sorry. Is it true you made a dragon's skull into a... treehouse?"

"Yup."

"That's amazing. I wouldn't dream of beating a dragon. I envy you."

"It runs in the family," you boast with a smile. "Anyway. I have to go find my brother, Roland. See you later, Lancel."

"See you later, indeed," Lancel replies as you walk past him.


Some time passes. The sun sets beyond the horizon. What do you do?

[] Spend some time talking with Roland. Maybe a spar, or a contest to see who's better at fighting?
[] Find Lancel and talk with him about being a Paladin and such.
[] Spend some time with Roderick. You rarely spend time with your father, so maybe this is a good time?
[] Leona is best left alone, but your mother is probably going through a lot of stress right now because literally every single member of her family is in danger because of the war. Talk to her.
[] Write-in.

Time: Evening
Calendar: 1006-03-30