A Hero's Quest: Eye of the Demon Emperor
- Thread starter Birdsie
- Start date
- Original Fantasy
Birdsie
Sharp Talons Cleave The Worthy
- Location
- Poland
Yyyyyyyup.
Birdsie
Sharp Talons Cleave The Worthy
- Location
- Poland
Eh, I guess it's fine.
Terran Imperium
[French]
- Location
- Southern France
Option three win ? I support that vote too just worried what our mom may do when we return ? Confiscate Excalibur ? Or worse ! No training !
- Location
- Southampton, Great Britain
- Pronouns
- He/Him
"I realized I wasn't ready for it and started going home before they showed up."
Err, this part of the vote is blatantly wrong. We weren't heading home at all. We were planning to head back to Beronica in order to get someway to poison or otherwise weaken Pyndwyn so we wouldn't be at such a disadvantage when we fought him. No where at all was it mentioned that we decided to give up and go home. Instead, it is pretty clearly stated that we were still planning to slay the Greater Dragon, but wisely decided not to rush in without coming up with a proper plan first.
Err, this part of the vote is blatantly wrong. We weren't heading home at all. We were planning to head back to Beronica in order to get someway to poison or otherwise weaken Pyndwyn so we wouldn't be at such a disadvantage when we fought him. No where at all was it mentioned that we decided to give up and go home. Instead, it is pretty clearly stated that we were still planning to slay the Greater Dragon, but wisely decided not to rush in without coming up with a proper plan first.
Last edited:
Terran Imperium
[French]
- Location
- Southern France
Ah didn't see that ! it should be ""I realized I wasn't ready for it and started going home after they showed up."
Terran Imperium
[French]
- Location
- Southern France
Changed my vote again... I think Nevill vote is the best while staying true to our character.
Chapter 2: Dragon Hunt - Part 7: Fight The Demons & Cervitou's Sacrifice
Birdsie
Sharp Talons Cleave The Worthy
- Location
- Poland
"I'll take option two," you say, after taking a second to consider.
Cervitou moves instantly, walking very close to you. He puts his gloved hand on your forehead, gently. He utters an incantation of magic: "Custodire ab deprehendatur." You feel as mana transfers from his hand into your body. He keeps it there for several seconds until the spell is complete. Cervitou steps back.
He looks down at your scabbard. "You wield Excalibur?"
"Of course!" you howl, "What else would I wield?"
"A weapon that will listen to you?" he retorts with a dose of subtlety. "You will never wield Excalibur properly with that curse."
"Then remove it," you bark, as an order, somewhat irritated by the notion.
"I can't. The curse put on you is complex, and multi-layered. In addition, it has a strong resonance of hatred, because it was cast with a dying breath. Not even the most well-schooled of archmages could take it off in any less than five decades of soul-surgery," Cervitou describes, completely crushing your internal stores of hope.
Cervitou continues with more of his cold-hearted mumbo jumbo. "The only way to make Excalibur obey you would be to corrupt it with black magic, but then it would, in turn, be incompatible with your successors. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, so I shall not stain it, no matter what argument you give me."
"I don't want you to stain it!" you bellow.
"Still. I suggest you hand it over to Roland and ask for its return once you have children, so that you may pass it further down the line."
"I wouldn't count on it," you scowl.
"Ahem," Beronica takes your attention. "Demons," she points outside with her finger.
A multitude of warriors in armor, attack imps, and even several hellhounds are now outside. The hunting group of demons has at the very least tripled, if not quadrupled ever since you entered the witch's hut. You are also pretty sure you see a demon in robes, slowly undoing the protective field around the hut. There are at least fifty greater demons, among them at least ten Knights of Hell.
Cervitou shakes when he sees the army. He takes several steps back, then stops, and stares at them. Cervitou seems to consider the situation he is in, and then he sighs. He walks to the other end of the room, sits down near the table, flicks his wrist making all of the shutters in the building close remotely –– as if through the usage of telekinesis –– and he looks at Beronica. You can't see his face, but from the voice, you can tell he's dead serious. "Bring me your membership crystal. I'll snatch the Prism Staff."
"That's illegal," Beronica protests.
"And what?" Cervitou retorts. Seeing him breaking any rule is very unusual for you.
Beronica seems astonished. "And what? Are you out of your mind? It's for emergencies only!"
Cervitou snaps uncharacteristically. He stands up, making the chair he sat on fall over. "The armies of Satan are outside your house and you're telling me this isn't an emergency!?"
Cervitou's head slowly moves to look at you. "I apologize for yelling."
"Uh, it's cool?" you respond, not sure what else you can say. "Who's Satan?"
"He is the new Demon Emperor, elected, what, twelve years ago?" he muses. "Maybe less. The previous one was called Lucifer."
"Anyway..." Cervitou glares viciously at Beronica.
"Alright, fine!" Beronica surrenders, "I'll give you the thing, I'll give you..." her hand slides over a bookshelf "the thing," she shoves one of the books out, taking a small, glowing orb from behind it. She walks over to Cervitou and gives it to him, making sure to show her grumpiness through body language.
Cervitou takes the crystal ball. "Excellent. Back in a minute."
Cervitou lays the crystal ball on the table. Suddenly, his form flashes with white light. In a second, his body vaporizes into glitter that scatters into space.
Beronica looks at you, then peeks out the window. "Hm, they're taking the barrier down."
"Care to explain what the Prism Staff is?" you ask, curious.
"It's a very powerful attack artifact available to––––aaaaand, damn it!!!"
"W-what?" you stutter.
"I can't tell you."
"Why?"
"I can't tell you," she repeats.
Is this some kind of spell that all mages have? By putting the puzzles together, you begin guessing that Beronica and Cervitou are members of some kind of larger organization and that they have a spell on them that forbids them from telling the truth. You're smart enough of a kid to untie a knot like this.
Suddenly, Cervitou flashes back in.
The back of his cape is burnt, his mask is not on his face, and there are several bloodstains all across his body. In his right hand, he has a thin quarterstaff, one end of which has a bright, glowing shard, like a crystal on it. Cervitou seems hurt rather badly.
Beronica lays her hand on his shoulder. "What happened to you?" she asks worriedly.
"What do you think happened to me?" he asks, almost philosophically, yet at the same time, grumbling.
"No idea," she murmurs.
"I had to get past the traps," he almost whines. "And sell a piece of my soul to the minotaur as a bribe."
"YOU DID WHAT?!" Beronica explodes with anger beyond what you've seen from her thus far. She is as angry as you anticipate your mother will be when you return. "YOUR SOUL IS SHATTERED AS IT IS, AND YOU SOLD A PIECE OF IT?! BY MERLIN'S BEARD, YOU ARE OUT OF YOUR MIND!!!"
"I'll haggle it back from him when I get back, stop yelling," he demands, then forces her hand off of his shoulder. "Besides, it's an emergency. Can't you see the armies of Hell outside the window?"
"I'm just worried about you," Beronica argues. You see tears flow down her eyes. "Your state is getting worse by the day."
"I am ready to sacrifice everything I have for her well-being," he replies, incredibly coldly. "My body, mind, even soul."
"Don't say that," Beronica shakes her head.
"For her?" you question. His wife?
Beronica turns to you. "He means you."
"Me?!" you explode, blushing slightly, because what he said sounded kind of like the tragic past of someone who was really romantic about his wife but lost her.
"When I sealed the curse on you," Cervitou mutters. "It put a lot of strain on me. I forced my soul to work beyond any mana it could produce. It cracked. My very spirit is broken. Year after year, I can cast less and less spells, and my mana grows weaker. I can amend this with mutagens and meditation, but my state is still deteriorating greatly."
"Why would you do that to yourself?" you ask. "How is that even possible?"
Beronica cuts in. "It's called spirit forgery. It's very dangerous. Never try it. A soul is just mana. Very dense mana. Diamonds and carbon are the same thing, but diamonds are just more dense and complex. In that same sense, the soul is mana, but more dense and complex."
Despite her explanation, you look at Cervitou, anxious for the answer to his other question.
"To punish myself," Cervitou replies. "Think of it as my chosen torture. If you wish to know so much, ask your mother. She seems to know more about me than I do myself," he almost laughs at the statement. "The only way I can repent is through self-sacrifice."
"Repent what?"
"Like I said, ask your mother. What I did was too shameful to speak of it to a mere child. She will tell you when you are older."
A child? You get angry. "I'm not a child!"
"You are. This is not meant for your ears," he argues.
You protest further. "I'm not just a child. Don't treat me like one."
"Your denial only confirms my statement," he almost jests.
"You're an idiot," Beronica fumes at him. "How much of your soul did you trade?"
"A quarter," he replies. His response shocks her.
"You did what?"
"A quarter. I gave a quarter of my soul to the minota–––" he starts speaking shamelessly, but she slaps him.
"You idiot," she cries, her face getting red in a mixture of sadness and rage. "You don't even need the Prism Staff. You did it because you're a moronic... self-mutilating... masochistic... penitent!"
"Maybe."
You hear an explosion outside. You look through the window. So does Cervitou.
It appears that the demons broke through one of the two layers of magical defense. Time to get to work.
"Stand back, Artoria Baragar. I shall dispatch these fiends with the might of all heavens," he runs mana through the staff in his hand. The bright crystal atop it begins to glow, radiating with white, sparkling light that falls off from it in the form of snowflake-shaped glitter. It appears to be a holy staff. You can practically hear the angels playing the harp from here.
"How can you wield the staff? Aren't you a black mage?"
"Was," he nods. "Naturally, I pray every day."
Cervitou, in his normal calm, threw you off with his first sentence. You remember what he said, and decide to protest. "Also, I won't stand back. Don't count on it."
"I won't let you fight them," he argues. Cervitou looks you in the eyes. "Stay. Here."
Your muscles begin to contract. He's back at it with his hypnosis, or whatever. But it seems he affected your subconsciousness instead. You feel a slight pain, which subsides in less than a second. Before you realize, you are nearly paralyzed. You can't move your legs from the places you stand in at all, but you can somewhat move your arms, and you still haven't lost the ability to speak.
"Wait! Come back here!" you demand.
Cervitou opens the door, then walks outside.
Beronica runs over to the door, then closes it. She and you look out the window.
Cervitou walks outside and meets the gaze of the demons. They stare at him with malice and he responds in kind.
'I can't use the staff at full power,' he thinks. 'Not without the forgiveness of the gods. But I should be able to use it to enough power to blast them apart before the Exarchs arrive to investigate why the staff is missing.'
Cervitou jumps into the air, levitating.
He rises high and higher. Roughly twenty meters into the air, so that he can be clearly seen by everyone across the length of the forest, even through all of the treetops. His staff glows like a brilliant star in the sky on its own, so it should not be too difficult for even a passerby to see it from several kilometers away. Like the beacon of a fire guiding the ships to safety.
"Tosa ounn si pomhwoom, el smoot ciann!" he says, clearly in another language, one you have a difficulty understanding even the basics of.
The glowing staff emits a brighter light, one with heat. The whole area suddenly becomes engulfed in it. It is almost as bright as if though it was daytime, if not even brighter. The demons all scatter, trying to hide behind trees, rocks, or simply running away. But somehow, the mystical power of the staff bends the laws of reality and manages to find its way behind any obstacles as well. The light slowly melts their demonic flesh. Some of the demons die where they stand, while others have the chance to escape back to Hell.
You regain control over your body. You blast off, running to the door, then you open it and go outside, witnessing the event with your very own eyes. Demons dying one after another. The light of the staff just goes through any armor they have and burns them alive, blasting their armor into cinders, and charring their skin, turning their malignant bodies into piles of black ash within seconds. But you stand unharmed. Many demons try to turn into black mist and fly away. Others turn into animals and scatter, only to find themselves burning regardless. The few clever ones retreat into another realm, back to the masters that sent them.
Beronica soon follows you and joins you in observing.
In several more seconds, not even a single demon, or a single Knight of Hell is standing in the vicinity.
The sight is utterly glorious. He dispersed the warriors sent to kill you. You can hardly imagine the fight going well for you had you not received any aid from Cervitou. The black mage soon falls back from the sky, the bright light of the Prism Staff extinguishing and returning the forest back to its absence of light.
Cervitou stands alone, supporting himself with the magical staff for several seconds, then he falls to his back.
You run up to Cervitou. So does Beronica.
The black mage's eyes are closed. Beronica instantly throws herself to her knees and examines his body, before looking up at you with tears in her eyes. "He's alive."
"Thank the Heavens," you mutter, closing your eyes in calm.
Suddenly, Cervitou opens his eyes. His body twitches a few times, then he looks up at you. "I have an iron taste in my mouth," he exclaims, before sitting and spitting out some blood.
"What happened?" you ask. Aren't staves meant to supply themselves with mana? This shouldn't put any stress on his body. Unless... "Is it because..."
"Yes. The staff hurts demons, but it is holy light we are speaking about, and mine soul is that of a sinner," he looks at you. "So it registers it as an enemy. I can't fix that."
Cervitou does something uncharacteristic and smiles, then lays back on the ground, probably wanting to rest for a while. He takes a few deep breaths, then closes his eyes and his smile widens. The elf rubs his face. "I apologize for not letting you fight."
"No problem," you smile. Mother was wrong all along. No matter what he did, he is a good person in the end. No black mage would crack his soul, sell pieces of it, put himself in mortal danger, and let a holy staff burn his internal organs and skin for no reason other than simple altruism.
"I'm really tired," he says, almost pleading. "Can you maybe postpone the dragon hunt until later, Artoria Baragar? If you are attacked again, I won't be able to protect you."
"Wait, I don't get it," you exclaim, realizing something. "Why are demons attacking me?"
"First, you're an easy target," Cervitou explains. "Second, they want revenge. For their leader, who died when your mother was about to give birth. The curse he cast instead targetted you."
"What does the curse do, Cervitou?"
"It marks you," he explains. "As a target to them. Fortunately, no more will attack for now. They have no anchor and no way to detect you anymore. But I still advise you not to leave the Baragar Mansion without your mother again, alright?"
"Why?"
"Your mother always carries charms to avert things like this. In addition, demons fear her," Cervitou reveals. "Still. I feel stupid. It was my sworn duty to protect your life and ensure the curse would never be too much of an impairment. The reason my soul cracked was to negate the curse. I needed enough power to put barriers around it. I couldn't do that on my own, so I over-exerted myself. Regardless, it appears my sacrifice was meaningless."
"Huh?"
"That cursed trinket you got for birthday," Cervitou says. "It cast another curse on you. That curse is slowly eating away the barrier I put. I loathe to say in a few years, the symptoms of it will return, and I might have to prepare a barrier again."
"I will help you, if it comes to that," Beronica argues. "You are not fragmenting your soul. Not again."
"Of course." Cervitou opens his eyes. "Anyway, in a few years, if you start having prophetic dreams, or you start hearing voices that drive you insane, or anything similar, let me know. Or let your mother know," he says, sounding like a responsible adult.
"By the way, about your soul..." you begin. "Is it gone for good? Can it be repaired?"
"What magic destroys, magic can repair, Artoria Baragar," he says wistfully.
Cervitou soon, after taking a few more, deep breaths, expands on his statement. "The answer is yes. However, magic that destroys by extreme means calls for extreme repairs. I would need one of the greatest specialists in the world that deals with souls, and I don't know one. I've already been in Espania looking for someone who could help me, but I found no help. In a few decades, my state will deteriorate to the point where I won't be able to work magic on my own, and in double that time, I'll be in a state where I will be practically souless, with no hope for an afterlife. Then again, selling a piece of my soul to that damn spirit minotaur probably sped it up by half a year or so."
You feel really bad about this. Had you known this creepy if sincere black mage literally broke his own soul for the sake of keeping a curse that would plague you otherwise sealed away, you would have done a lot more in all that time to show how thankful you are.
"Also, don't tell your mother," he pleads. Begs, even. "She will kill me if she discovers I told you this."
"I got it. Anyway..."
[] Go home for now. The dragon's not worth the trouble. Cervitou told you to go home, so you will travel back home, possibly with the help of some teleportation spell if he offers it
[] After all this, you can't go home. You can't let all this sacrifice go to waste. Go and slay the dragon while there is still time for it to be done.
Calendar: 1005-01-01
Time: Night
Mana: 181/200
Money: 29GP, 7SP.
Cervitou moves instantly, walking very close to you. He puts his gloved hand on your forehead, gently. He utters an incantation of magic: "Custodire ab deprehendatur." You feel as mana transfers from his hand into your body. He keeps it there for several seconds until the spell is complete. Cervitou steps back.
He looks down at your scabbard. "You wield Excalibur?"
"Of course!" you howl, "What else would I wield?"
"A weapon that will listen to you?" he retorts with a dose of subtlety. "You will never wield Excalibur properly with that curse."
"Then remove it," you bark, as an order, somewhat irritated by the notion.
"I can't. The curse put on you is complex, and multi-layered. In addition, it has a strong resonance of hatred, because it was cast with a dying breath. Not even the most well-schooled of archmages could take it off in any less than five decades of soul-surgery," Cervitou describes, completely crushing your internal stores of hope.
Cervitou continues with more of his cold-hearted mumbo jumbo. "The only way to make Excalibur obey you would be to corrupt it with black magic, but then it would, in turn, be incompatible with your successors. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, so I shall not stain it, no matter what argument you give me."
"I don't want you to stain it!" you bellow.
"Still. I suggest you hand it over to Roland and ask for its return once you have children, so that you may pass it further down the line."
"I wouldn't count on it," you scowl.
"Ahem," Beronica takes your attention. "Demons," she points outside with her finger.
A multitude of warriors in armor, attack imps, and even several hellhounds are now outside. The hunting group of demons has at the very least tripled, if not quadrupled ever since you entered the witch's hut. You are also pretty sure you see a demon in robes, slowly undoing the protective field around the hut. There are at least fifty greater demons, among them at least ten Knights of Hell.
Cervitou shakes when he sees the army. He takes several steps back, then stops, and stares at them. Cervitou seems to consider the situation he is in, and then he sighs. He walks to the other end of the room, sits down near the table, flicks his wrist making all of the shutters in the building close remotely –– as if through the usage of telekinesis –– and he looks at Beronica. You can't see his face, but from the voice, you can tell he's dead serious. "Bring me your membership crystal. I'll snatch the Prism Staff."
"That's illegal," Beronica protests.
"And what?" Cervitou retorts. Seeing him breaking any rule is very unusual for you.
Beronica seems astonished. "And what? Are you out of your mind? It's for emergencies only!"
Cervitou snaps uncharacteristically. He stands up, making the chair he sat on fall over. "The armies of Satan are outside your house and you're telling me this isn't an emergency!?"
Cervitou's head slowly moves to look at you. "I apologize for yelling."
"Uh, it's cool?" you respond, not sure what else you can say. "Who's Satan?"
"He is the new Demon Emperor, elected, what, twelve years ago?" he muses. "Maybe less. The previous one was called Lucifer."
"Anyway..." Cervitou glares viciously at Beronica.
"Alright, fine!" Beronica surrenders, "I'll give you the thing, I'll give you..." her hand slides over a bookshelf "the thing," she shoves one of the books out, taking a small, glowing orb from behind it. She walks over to Cervitou and gives it to him, making sure to show her grumpiness through body language.
Cervitou takes the crystal ball. "Excellent. Back in a minute."
Cervitou lays the crystal ball on the table. Suddenly, his form flashes with white light. In a second, his body vaporizes into glitter that scatters into space.
Beronica looks at you, then peeks out the window. "Hm, they're taking the barrier down."
"Care to explain what the Prism Staff is?" you ask, curious.
"It's a very powerful attack artifact available to––––aaaaand, damn it!!!"
"W-what?" you stutter.
"I can't tell you."
"Why?"
"I can't tell you," she repeats.
Is this some kind of spell that all mages have? By putting the puzzles together, you begin guessing that Beronica and Cervitou are members of some kind of larger organization and that they have a spell on them that forbids them from telling the truth. You're smart enough of a kid to untie a knot like this.
Suddenly, Cervitou flashes back in.
The back of his cape is burnt, his mask is not on his face, and there are several bloodstains all across his body. In his right hand, he has a thin quarterstaff, one end of which has a bright, glowing shard, like a crystal on it. Cervitou seems hurt rather badly.
Beronica lays her hand on his shoulder. "What happened to you?" she asks worriedly.
"What do you think happened to me?" he asks, almost philosophically, yet at the same time, grumbling.
"No idea," she murmurs.
"I had to get past the traps," he almost whines. "And sell a piece of my soul to the minotaur as a bribe."
"YOU DID WHAT?!" Beronica explodes with anger beyond what you've seen from her thus far. She is as angry as you anticipate your mother will be when you return. "YOUR SOUL IS SHATTERED AS IT IS, AND YOU SOLD A PIECE OF IT?! BY MERLIN'S BEARD, YOU ARE OUT OF YOUR MIND!!!"
"I'll haggle it back from him when I get back, stop yelling," he demands, then forces her hand off of his shoulder. "Besides, it's an emergency. Can't you see the armies of Hell outside the window?"
"I'm just worried about you," Beronica argues. You see tears flow down her eyes. "Your state is getting worse by the day."
"I am ready to sacrifice everything I have for her well-being," he replies, incredibly coldly. "My body, mind, even soul."
"Don't say that," Beronica shakes her head.
"For her?" you question. His wife?
Beronica turns to you. "He means you."
"Me?!" you explode, blushing slightly, because what he said sounded kind of like the tragic past of someone who was really romantic about his wife but lost her.
"When I sealed the curse on you," Cervitou mutters. "It put a lot of strain on me. I forced my soul to work beyond any mana it could produce. It cracked. My very spirit is broken. Year after year, I can cast less and less spells, and my mana grows weaker. I can amend this with mutagens and meditation, but my state is still deteriorating greatly."
"Why would you do that to yourself?" you ask. "How is that even possible?"
Beronica cuts in. "It's called spirit forgery. It's very dangerous. Never try it. A soul is just mana. Very dense mana. Diamonds and carbon are the same thing, but diamonds are just more dense and complex. In that same sense, the soul is mana, but more dense and complex."
Despite her explanation, you look at Cervitou, anxious for the answer to his other question.
"To punish myself," Cervitou replies. "Think of it as my chosen torture. If you wish to know so much, ask your mother. She seems to know more about me than I do myself," he almost laughs at the statement. "The only way I can repent is through self-sacrifice."
"Repent what?"
"Like I said, ask your mother. What I did was too shameful to speak of it to a mere child. She will tell you when you are older."
A child? You get angry. "I'm not a child!"
"You are. This is not meant for your ears," he argues.
You protest further. "I'm not just a child. Don't treat me like one."
"Your denial only confirms my statement," he almost jests.
"You're an idiot," Beronica fumes at him. "How much of your soul did you trade?"
"A quarter," he replies. His response shocks her.
"You did what?"
"A quarter. I gave a quarter of my soul to the minota–––" he starts speaking shamelessly, but she slaps him.
"You idiot," she cries, her face getting red in a mixture of sadness and rage. "You don't even need the Prism Staff. You did it because you're a moronic... self-mutilating... masochistic... penitent!"
"Maybe."
You hear an explosion outside. You look through the window. So does Cervitou.
It appears that the demons broke through one of the two layers of magical defense. Time to get to work.
"Stand back, Artoria Baragar. I shall dispatch these fiends with the might of all heavens," he runs mana through the staff in his hand. The bright crystal atop it begins to glow, radiating with white, sparkling light that falls off from it in the form of snowflake-shaped glitter. It appears to be a holy staff. You can practically hear the angels playing the harp from here.
"How can you wield the staff? Aren't you a black mage?"
"Was," he nods. "Naturally, I pray every day."
Cervitou, in his normal calm, threw you off with his first sentence. You remember what he said, and decide to protest. "Also, I won't stand back. Don't count on it."
"I won't let you fight them," he argues. Cervitou looks you in the eyes. "Stay. Here."
Your muscles begin to contract. He's back at it with his hypnosis, or whatever. But it seems he affected your subconsciousness instead. You feel a slight pain, which subsides in less than a second. Before you realize, you are nearly paralyzed. You can't move your legs from the places you stand in at all, but you can somewhat move your arms, and you still haven't lost the ability to speak.
"Wait! Come back here!" you demand.
Cervitou opens the door, then walks outside.
Beronica runs over to the door, then closes it. She and you look out the window.
***
Cervitou walks outside and meets the gaze of the demons. They stare at him with malice and he responds in kind.
'I can't use the staff at full power,' he thinks. 'Not without the forgiveness of the gods. But I should be able to use it to enough power to blast them apart before the Exarchs arrive to investigate why the staff is missing.'
Cervitou jumps into the air, levitating.
He rises high and higher. Roughly twenty meters into the air, so that he can be clearly seen by everyone across the length of the forest, even through all of the treetops. His staff glows like a brilliant star in the sky on its own, so it should not be too difficult for even a passerby to see it from several kilometers away. Like the beacon of a fire guiding the ships to safety.
"Tosa ounn si pomhwoom, el smoot ciann!" he says, clearly in another language, one you have a difficulty understanding even the basics of.
The glowing staff emits a brighter light, one with heat. The whole area suddenly becomes engulfed in it. It is almost as bright as if though it was daytime, if not even brighter. The demons all scatter, trying to hide behind trees, rocks, or simply running away. But somehow, the mystical power of the staff bends the laws of reality and manages to find its way behind any obstacles as well. The light slowly melts their demonic flesh. Some of the demons die where they stand, while others have the chance to escape back to Hell.
***
You regain control over your body. You blast off, running to the door, then you open it and go outside, witnessing the event with your very own eyes. Demons dying one after another. The light of the staff just goes through any armor they have and burns them alive, blasting their armor into cinders, and charring their skin, turning their malignant bodies into piles of black ash within seconds. But you stand unharmed. Many demons try to turn into black mist and fly away. Others turn into animals and scatter, only to find themselves burning regardless. The few clever ones retreat into another realm, back to the masters that sent them.
Beronica soon follows you and joins you in observing.
In several more seconds, not even a single demon, or a single Knight of Hell is standing in the vicinity.
The sight is utterly glorious. He dispersed the warriors sent to kill you. You can hardly imagine the fight going well for you had you not received any aid from Cervitou. The black mage soon falls back from the sky, the bright light of the Prism Staff extinguishing and returning the forest back to its absence of light.
Cervitou stands alone, supporting himself with the magical staff for several seconds, then he falls to his back.
You run up to Cervitou. So does Beronica.
The black mage's eyes are closed. Beronica instantly throws herself to her knees and examines his body, before looking up at you with tears in her eyes. "He's alive."
"Thank the Heavens," you mutter, closing your eyes in calm.
Suddenly, Cervitou opens his eyes. His body twitches a few times, then he looks up at you. "I have an iron taste in my mouth," he exclaims, before sitting and spitting out some blood.
"What happened?" you ask. Aren't staves meant to supply themselves with mana? This shouldn't put any stress on his body. Unless... "Is it because..."
"Yes. The staff hurts demons, but it is holy light we are speaking about, and mine soul is that of a sinner," he looks at you. "So it registers it as an enemy. I can't fix that."
Cervitou does something uncharacteristic and smiles, then lays back on the ground, probably wanting to rest for a while. He takes a few deep breaths, then closes his eyes and his smile widens. The elf rubs his face. "I apologize for not letting you fight."
"No problem," you smile. Mother was wrong all along. No matter what he did, he is a good person in the end. No black mage would crack his soul, sell pieces of it, put himself in mortal danger, and let a holy staff burn his internal organs and skin for no reason other than simple altruism.
"I'm really tired," he says, almost pleading. "Can you maybe postpone the dragon hunt until later, Artoria Baragar? If you are attacked again, I won't be able to protect you."
"Wait, I don't get it," you exclaim, realizing something. "Why are demons attacking me?"
"First, you're an easy target," Cervitou explains. "Second, they want revenge. For their leader, who died when your mother was about to give birth. The curse he cast instead targetted you."
"What does the curse do, Cervitou?"
"It marks you," he explains. "As a target to them. Fortunately, no more will attack for now. They have no anchor and no way to detect you anymore. But I still advise you not to leave the Baragar Mansion without your mother again, alright?"
"Why?"
"Your mother always carries charms to avert things like this. In addition, demons fear her," Cervitou reveals. "Still. I feel stupid. It was my sworn duty to protect your life and ensure the curse would never be too much of an impairment. The reason my soul cracked was to negate the curse. I needed enough power to put barriers around it. I couldn't do that on my own, so I over-exerted myself. Regardless, it appears my sacrifice was meaningless."
"Huh?"
"That cursed trinket you got for birthday," Cervitou says. "It cast another curse on you. That curse is slowly eating away the barrier I put. I loathe to say in a few years, the symptoms of it will return, and I might have to prepare a barrier again."
"I will help you, if it comes to that," Beronica argues. "You are not fragmenting your soul. Not again."
"Of course." Cervitou opens his eyes. "Anyway, in a few years, if you start having prophetic dreams, or you start hearing voices that drive you insane, or anything similar, let me know. Or let your mother know," he says, sounding like a responsible adult.
"By the way, about your soul..." you begin. "Is it gone for good? Can it be repaired?"
"What magic destroys, magic can repair, Artoria Baragar," he says wistfully.
Cervitou soon, after taking a few more, deep breaths, expands on his statement. "The answer is yes. However, magic that destroys by extreme means calls for extreme repairs. I would need one of the greatest specialists in the world that deals with souls, and I don't know one. I've already been in Espania looking for someone who could help me, but I found no help. In a few decades, my state will deteriorate to the point where I won't be able to work magic on my own, and in double that time, I'll be in a state where I will be practically souless, with no hope for an afterlife. Then again, selling a piece of my soul to that damn spirit minotaur probably sped it up by half a year or so."
You feel really bad about this. Had you known this creepy if sincere black mage literally broke his own soul for the sake of keeping a curse that would plague you otherwise sealed away, you would have done a lot more in all that time to show how thankful you are.
"Also, don't tell your mother," he pleads. Begs, even. "She will kill me if she discovers I told you this."
"I got it. Anyway..."
[] Go home for now. The dragon's not worth the trouble. Cervitou told you to go home, so you will travel back home, possibly with the help of some teleportation spell if he offers it
[] After all this, you can't go home. You can't let all this sacrifice go to waste. Go and slay the dragon while there is still time for it to be done.
Calendar: 1005-01-01
Time: Night
Mana: 181/200
Money: 29GP, 7SP.
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- Location
- Southampton, Great Britain
- Pronouns
- He/Him
[X] After all this, you can't go home. You can't let all this sacrifice go to waste. Go and slay the dragon while there is still time for it to be done.
-[X] Ask Beronica if she knows any ways to gain the advantage over Pyndwyn such as using poison to weaken him.
-[X] Ask Beronica if she knows any ways to gain the advantage over Pyndwyn such as using poison to weaken him.
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Terran Imperium
[French]
- Location
- Southern France
OOC Question ? Is there a way to completly cure our curse ? Just to make sure.
For our choice, we could go and try to kill the dragon now or go on a journey to become stronger then come back for the dragon, or return to home...
[X] After all this, you can't go home. You can't let all this sacrifice go to waste. Go and slay the dragon while there is still time for it to be done.
-[X] Ask Beronica if she knows any ways to gain the advantage over Pyndwyn such as using poison to weaken him..
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Birdsie
Sharp Talons Cleave The Worthy
- Location
- Poland
What Cervitou said:
As a funfact, I'll mention he's quoting the first "law" of magic, so to speak. I'd have mentioned that earlier had you invested into learning Magical Theory, and it would probably make slightly more of an impact right now. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Birdsie
Sharp Talons Cleave The Worthy
- Location
- Poland
Well, first would be the Elder God. He's the God of Gods. He's the "YHWH" of this universe. The big guy in town. His "angels" are on the level of power that lets them wrestle other Gods with fair ease. Anyway, he likes to find random mortals and observe them, sometimes interfere, and generally enjoy his time, but he never does anything directly evil or good. He might motivate some people, or mock some others, but most people won't even know who they are dealing with, until they put the puzzles together several decades later, perhaps as part of his plan.
Other than that, I guess there's Alreos. He's the patron deity of Albion He's generally a good guy who helps people, but he likes to have demigod children. There's also Amos, who's his brother. He's a walking bag of dicks that doesn't really mind the existence of demons and is borderline a Duke of Hell himself. The reason why he wasn't thrown out from the Heavens is still a mystery. Perhaps the rest of the Gods don't feel like laying siege on his realm, or whatever. Alreos and Amos would be the two most active Gods in Albion, probably, alongside with a bunch of other, lesser deities representing Water, Fire, Earth, Air, and other such elements, as well as concepts.
DISCLAIMER: Gods can be evil, and everyone is cool with that. It's demons that Gods have a problem with, so they and their servants generally try to destroy demons on sight, because there was never a peace treaty after Lucideus/Lucifer "fell" in this universe. Lucifer (originally Lucideus) was an angel who was so brilliant he was granted Godhood by several of the Gods, but eventually, some others protested and a war broke out. Ultimately, the Gods that granted Lucideus godhood resigned and they came for his ass, but Lucideus didn't feel like giving up his position, because he already started making angels of his own. (Guess who these angels became? Hint, they were the only angels that had horns.)
I'm not sure if the Baragar family has a specific God or Goddess they devote themselves to, but I could make it a possible choice later on.
- Location
- Southampton, Great Britain
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Which one is the nicest, most heroic and generally good God/Goddess?
Infodump: The War In Heaven (History)
Birdsie
Sharp Talons Cleave The Worthy
- Location
- Poland
Actually, this is popular mythology in-universe. We were really throwing ideas back when we were "writing" this setting for our roleplay, so this whole story is more of a jumbled mess than I make it seem. Think of it as poorly-fitting puzzles that I'll force to fit together. I'll expand on this topic, because I think it's worth doing.
Long ago, when the starlit sky was still everpresent in space, and the earthly realm was being constructed, the first of the elves - back then, still immortal creatures, wrote down a story told to them by one of the passing angels about a certain fellow angel, who rebelled against the Gods.
His name was Luciel. He was an Archangel of a nameless, unknown God. Luciel, much like the rest of his brothers, was an exemplary worker. So much so, that several deities gathered and decided to grant him a seat in the thrones of Heaven, complete with a realm of his own. Upon receiving his honor, Luciel became known as Lucideus.
When a group of other, more envious Gods heard of this, they were enraged. They argued that an angel should never have the honor of Godhood, and so, they demanded a gathering where the fate of Lucideus would be decided. After numerous arguments and counter-arguments were thrown, Lucideus' defenders grew silent. After that, the Gods gave a visit to Lucideus' realm and demanded that he relinquish his status as a God, then return to his duty as an Archangel.
Lucideus said he'd be glad to do so, however, he already created many angels of his own. He asked what would happen to them, with which the Gods said that his angels would be destroyed because only Gods have the right to give shape to celestial beings, and the world itself. After that, Lucideus refused to give up, called his angels, banished the enemy Gods, and a war raged for many hundreds of years in his realm, which was originally a beautiful paradise. It slowly turned into a black, ashen wasteland, with his fortress the only real 'location' to speak of. Lucideus' power as a deity deteriorated, and he lost most of his abilities, including the ability to keep his realm alive and to keep his angels tame and graceful. Everything devolved, and Lucideus became Lucifer, while his Garden [realm] became known as Hell.
Ever since that day, the leylines deteriorated, so Lucifer's [the Demon Emperor's] angels, called demons, had to feast on the souls of other beings to keep themselves satiated. With no other choice for his people, Lucifer ruled the realm in this state for thousands of years, but with each decade, his powers deteriorated more and more, until he was weak enough that his demons felt confident enough to make their move.
Funfact: His original name was Luciel because angels typically have names that end with 'el' (This applies in the real world, too: Michael, Gabriel, Raphael, Uriel,) and it was changed to Lucideus, because Deus means God. As he fell, the name was changed to what we know him by in our world; Lucifer.
Terran Imperium
[French]
- Location
- Southern France
That would be the best guy to pray to , even try to get his attention to help us ? We are going to be a Hero after all
Birdsie
Sharp Talons Cleave The Worthy
- Location
- Poland
Eeeh, I really don't know. There's none that I remember from the original that stood out. Maybe Alreos?
Feel free to make one up. Gods come in all shapes, sizes, and colors.
- Location
- Southampton, Great Britain
- Pronouns
- He/Him