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Order of the Thistle

Glorfindel

Adventurer
UNLEASHED
The storm's intensity was growing and the ship was being tossed about with ferocity. The sails were being torn apart but men rushed here and there trying to keep the masts from breaking and to keep all of the sails from being torn off and thrown into the sea, they fought for hours to keep the boat from capsizing. They worked tirelessly. One man seemed indifferent to it all he laughed as they ran about, as they worked. His left arm leaning over the starboard side of the ship his other holding a bottle and pointing at them. "Work, work!" Laughing at them, he was drunk he had been drunk for days. He was shirtless with long black hair and worn pants and bare feet. His face was weathered from the sun and his eyes were grey. He mocked them over and over yet they let him be. "C'mon!! Do me in.. Finally! Throw me in you cowards!" Laughing and taking gulps from the bottle. The sea tossed them violently over and over and lighting crashed and all became dark.

And there was evening and then there was morning a second day.


*Thunk thunk* "Arrrrgggggg" He rolled over on the wet boards his head ached as it never had before. *Thunk thunk* He sat up with eyes closed and crossed his legs under him. Putting his hands in his face. "Bloody 'ell, What is that noise?! "His voice carried higher. He looked up and saw wooden chests being dropped down on the edge of the dock. Sea worn men with sun burnt skin barked at each other dragging the chests back and forth from the ship. "Blasted.." he said muffled as his shoulders sunk and he leaned back on his hands looking up taking in the morning sun and its brightness his face grimacing at the rays. Sighing to himself realizing nobody cared for his state he slowly and gently rolled over and laid down on the dock perfectly fine to spend the rest of the day.

"I will.." Pausing to the officer. "I will take care of him." A hooded cloaked man dropped a bag of coins in to the hands of the officer looking over to the soiled, sunburnt, shirtless man past out. The man turned facing him under his hood he walked toward the end of the pier. He was a tall thin wiry man who moved gracefully under his cloak. He leaned downed and swiped up swiftly the sleeping shirtless man and started to drag him until he began to walk for himself cursing as he did so. "Where is this awful sun shiny dump?" The cloaked man releasing his grip and continuing forward. "Welcome to Zento.. and the lighthouse.."

And there was evening and there was morning a third day.


Lamerok gently lit the candle leaning over the small table. He sat down gingerly in the soft chair facing the wall where a now fully clothed man that he had dragged was now sitting on the floor leaning against the wall. His worn face was sullen but slightly refreshed. Octavius hoarsely began to speak. "I apologize for my.." Lamerok interrupted him. "No need." His face troubled yet questioning and dismissive raising his hand and looking to the floor. Lamerok continued "After the scourge we brought a lot of it all here, this became a bit of a." He paused looking back up. "Home base for a time. For a time is all.. But they were here a great deal." Lamerok shifted a bit in his seat searching for words. Octavius then broke into laughter. "They left you in Tokuno did they?" Sarcastically Octavius barked then his grey eyes lowered, his laughter slowly turned to sadness. "We would have won the war Lamy. We woulda won.." His face slightly brightened looking to Lamerok for reassurance.
Lamerok scratched his beard shaking his head. "What is done is done Thorn. He has requested you back." Leaning over with a smirk looking to Lamerok. "OHHH His Lordship... His Lordship wishes my return to his side!!!!" Sarcastically laughing and wincing. "All I have done, the blood I have spilt.. the.." Clenching his fists Octavius shook his head. Lamerok leaned in calmly. "Augustus has died." The two fell silent and spoke no more.

And there was evening and morning a fourth day.

Octavius swiftly but gently packed the horse he had been given. His hair was combed and his clothes were washed and clean. He looked over to Lamerok. "A knight of honor and distinction. The Argent Knight. And yet ONLY me?" Octavius said as he continued on with his work strapping the saddle tightly. Lamerok looked to him with a smile. "Yew was never my place old friend.. Yew was you and him not me.. I was, I was Skara Brae and what a time it was.. What a time it was..But." Pausing and helping with the saddle "I to have grown old.. Nobody speak the old tongue anymore..."
 

Glorfindel

Adventurer
UNLEASHED
The forest was more peaceful then he remembered or it was perhaps that he had just had missed it. But leaning against the tree eating his apple he thought of only what he might say first. He watched as each arrow split the preceding arrow on the target with velocity and accuracy, perfect was each shot. The elf's back was facing him and the bow and string made no sound each time it was lifted and the draw length took perfect form. The only sound his chewing and that of the splitting of arrows against the tree. Walking towards the archer Octavius finally spoke. "You once said that archery is not difficult until the arrow misses." He stopped a respectful distance away. Taking one more perfect shot. The archer paused and turned around. Setting his bow down against a tree the last arrow still in his hand and examining it for straightness and form he said. "The arrow and the target." Pausing placing the arrow back in his quiver. "They are no longer two opposing objects but are one. They are one reality." Smiling to Octavius, Glorfindel embraced him. "Good to see you old friend."


Octavius with his hand swept off the dust from the wooden bench and grimaced making a grunt as he sat down. "Taking your Aratar briefings in a cottage now I see." Pleased with himself he chuckled a bit. Glorfindel ignoring his humor took a look around the humble abode. "Well, it was a large undertaking.. The Alba here." Turning away from Octavius and looking north. "The Garden and the winery and others. For this.. Cottage as you say." Placing his hand on the wall. "This wall was all that was left." Glorfindel paused and looked to Octavius who had leaned forward towards the fire. Octavius took his glove off and rubbed his face and said. "I would have fought to the very end if I only had the chance." Glorfindel patted him gently on the back and said softly. "I know you would have.. But there was no stopping them. You would have died and they would have kept on. They would never have stopped." Glorfindel sighed and took a seat next to him. "As you know the last Defensoris has passed.. Our oaths to Tagmata are fulfilled." Nothing was said for a few moments as the flames flickered and danced. Octavius dryly "Maybe these benches so close to the flames not really a good idea if you wan." Glorfindel interrupted. "Truthfully the tagmata oaths of old should stay with us, they should stay with the Aratar." Looking over to Octavius his eyes had a slight sparkle and glimmer of hope. "Tonight my friend we ride for Somerset"

They had now arrived in northern Britain, a three days journey from Yew proper and Everthorne. Taking the northern road to the swamps and then south. "Welcome to Somerset, the Tower Fortress." The two rode side by side and Octavius's eyes were fixed and gazing upon the flowing banners with the insignia of Everthorne stitched and embroidered in gold and green that stood high on its pillars. Seeing the glistening walls and tall statues and banners meant something more to Octavius Thorn. It meant things still mattered. It meant oaths and honor and fighting for what one believes in were still true. He had no cares for lands just on their own merits that of simple gardens, wineries or cottages or history even. He would fight for them sure but it was fighting for an idea and for a common cause that inspired him but most importantly fighting for his friends, his brothers. "Defending a cause greater then one self." Glorfindel said to him as they approached slowly. Both dismounting then Glorfindel stated. "The Lady of the Thistle welcomes us."
 

Glorfindel

Adventurer
UNLEASHED
Some time ago..

The world had changed, there was a crown in Britain. The world of men was in peril once more. The old teacher Orodreth folded and played with his hat he showed no expressions. Lamorak grimaced with his sunburnt face, he smirked with a sense of entitlement. Octavius's dark eyes remained calm as he scanned the room silently. Hattori Jun pondered the words as her countenance remained thoughtful. Glorfindel stood by the flickering flames of the fire his back turned to the table with arms behind his back and his head lowered.

At the head of the table Ismene D'Arville began once more.

"The time has come for adjustments, there is a king in Britain and so we must plan and coordinate our survival and the future. The uncertainty is overwhelming, the threats from the orcs and undead are no more but threats come from Britain and this crown and this "fellowship". Glorfindel interrupted. "We lost one again to the undead.." Ismene paused and breathed deeply looking around to the table considering them. She said coldly. "We will not pander to our enemies and those who have no respect." Her soft face and expressions had become of iron and great strength. "The Aratar have been decimated we only have those who sit at this table now." Lamorak scratched his beard and his brow was low and tired. "The Tagmata have survived generations.." He snarled back. Ismene raised her head high to him "Do you refuse this assignment to Skara Brae? The Argent Knight and.." Glorfindel turned around interrupting. "Do I still have your confidence?" His eyes sparkled and glared to Lamorak, Lamorak then shifted and lowered his gaze. He sighed and nodded. "With all my strength." Lamorak said quickly. Glorfindel turned to face the flames once more.

The room became silent again. Orodreth placed his folded hat back on his head uneasily. Ismene D'Arville peered to him and her eyes narrowed. "You will have to take on a more active role, we will need your counsel more then ever" She turned towards Octavius Thorn "There are political advancements that may proceed with Yew but it is very much an uncertainty. You are close to completing your quest?" She questioned him. But Glorfindel facing the fireplace breathed deeply. "Octavius, the finishing of your journey." He stated knowing Octavius would not answer. "We cannot help you, you will be on your own from here on out. It will break you if you let it. Long dark days are ahead where ever those paths lead you. But the light will come. Our hopes and our dreams lie within these commands with these oaths. We are the sum of our choices.. And our choice is virtue.. Our choice is this order we have sworn fealty to this eve." Ismene lowered her eyes pondering the moment. Glorfindel swiftly moved towards the table his arms opened up. "We are at the turn of the tide.. My friends.. My friends" His voice trailed off he winced seemingly considering the future and the great unknown that was after all the beauty of life.. He then smiled toward Ismene and then those seated around with great warmth. "The time has come."
 

Glorfindel

Adventurer
UNLEASHED
We do not remember days, we remember moments"

His legs crossed and sitting down up against the wall he smacked his sandals together knocking off the sand. The boy could feel the brightness of the sun in all its intensity and the focus he had assumed was right on him. Standing up he picked up a rock and threw it as far as he could into the bright world before him. Noon day.

He didn't see where it landed, but soon enough he felt the winds from western shores of the island. They were not cold nor hot but they brought relief from the scorching sun. He caught up with the other boys, running and shoving one another and names were called, laughter ensued. His world made sense to him. His mother left for hours on end every day but always came home with a bright smile on her face. She washed and cleaned their clothes and cooked a meal each evening. He wasn't yet old enough to help in the palace he thought, but soon he will get to go with the others to the great palace! That was always his hope, that was always his dream.

It was a day like no other yet simple as it always began with the overwhelming brightness of the expanse.. The clutter and clang of the streets. What a glorious home he thought he stuck his hands in his pockets and made his way to the center of what many called Nujele'm but to him it was everything. It was the greatest of cities of the known world. He began to skip along kicking rocks when he started to hear the great bell. It rang twice. This was only for the worst he thought.. Scoundrels, he grimaced and things crossed his mind of those who would do such evil things to such a grand place his mind raced in righteous indignation.

Pushing way his way through the crowd wanting to get a good look at the filth he thought hoping to see some of his friends along the way. The crowd grew louder as he pushed towards the guillotine. A man in a plumed hat and glittered tunic began to pontificate the charges. He stopped dead.. He stopped so suddenly he lost his balance and stood crooked and leaning to his left. He stared into what seemed a void, unreal YET as the swift drop of the guillotine ended his mother's life right before him. He had no strength to formulate words against the force of the violence. Everything at that moment appeared black. No colors were around him anymore. The sun at noon day that always had been so glorious to him felt so dark and twisted above him. The crowd had seemingly turned away from him. It seemed like the world had paused in some cruel way he did not understand and he breathed deeply into the blackness and he ran. All the doors and windows in the city as he ran by were as black as night. The air he breathed became heavier as he ran with all his strength. Straight to the western shores he ran. He came across the ships in harbor. The expanse of the early evening pressed down upon him and he hid in the shadows. The darkness of the sunset came and with it the longshoremen worked the cargo aboard and with it he slipped within. He hid within the crates in black. Hours past and his racing heart began to slow gradually, gradually and calmer and his eyes became heavier.
He awoke with what seemed to him instantly from the previous day. The crate he was in swayed slightly, he was aboard a ship headed for the mainland he surmised to himself. Calmly slowly with the sway of the ship he fell back asleep.

He awoke to words and gruff talk amongst the men who were loading the docks. "Can ya believe it." One voice said. "They ar' makin examples of them poor folk. They be having an uprisin. Only a matter o' time really." The gruff voice muttered and the sliding of boxes could be heard. "Pay it no mind" Another said. "They crush the revolts quickly, we will keep cashin in." The young boy felt himself slid across the deck hitting another box. He realized he was in a crate surrounded by linen. Soft white linen. Hideous he thought. Struggling to escape he broke free of the crate and took off. He was swift and fast, the docks turned to stone buildings and people and those in armor with weapons. But no one paid him any mind. It was the city of Britain after all, no one cared. He kept running, "The Cat's Lair" he read as he ran by. Buildings became tall guard towers, which became farms, which became mountains, and then woods.


Counting his fingers, he was quite certain he was seven years old. Well that is when he came to the forest. He was not quite sure if a year had passed yet. Each day he made his way back through the mountain pass and took vegetables from the fields and headed back. He had built what he called a fortress out of branches. He wanted to hunt the rabbits and deer he saw but he didn't quite know what he to do with them if he caught one of them. So he always instead each day made his way back to the fields as his hunger of course always persisted. He made friends with the miners and farmers. "He was a gentle soul for a boy his age" They would say. "Kind and considerate" They said. "He Lost his mum in a slave revolt."

It was an unusually cold night. It was clear to him that something was outside. The heavy rumbling and groaning was of a beast. A bear most likely. He jumped out if his "fort" lunging towards the bear. It slashed towards his arm. Swiftly out of nowhere a hooded figure swiftly crashed into the bear with a blade. The creature stopped and slumped over falling to the ground. Grabbing the bleeding boy's arm and removing his hood dragging him into a clearing. The boy gazed upwards to the bright face and emerald eyes and long flowing bright hair. He spoke to him with words that he marveled at and yet he did not understand such a beautiful language. The boy had never seen an elf being before, but he knew of them from stories. The elf being seemed to be concerned with his arm but the boy was in shock and didn't feel or see that he had been badly hurt. In the Brittainin tongue "Your a half starved lil thing aren't you?" Taking out a small pouch and keeling down he took out what seemed to be a few oiled leaves. The elf gently placed them on the boys wound. "This is asea aranion a healing herb that my people have used for generations." He wrapped the leaves with cloth up in the arm. "Just keep this wrapped for a day." He spoke as reassuringly as he could. The boy quipped back. "I would ave' taken the bear out good sir, he didn't know what he was messin with." The boy smirked at the elf.

Just then the sound of hooves and charging horses back on the road. They gradually came to a slow stop. "What are they?" The boy pointed to the riders on the road. Each of their armor was a different color and he would remember that detail about that day years later. "That is a company of knights. They are from Yew. I am ranger helping them track orcs." The elf said as he nodded towards the horsed men circling slowly on the road. "What is an orc?" The boy looked to him questioningly. Laughing the elf ranger smiled back. "That is a question I have been asking myself for ages." Standing back up he motioned towards the group. One of the riders in the back of the company pulled the reigns back towards the woods and came towards the clearing they were standing in and the boy thought to himself. "He looks only about five or ten years older then me!" The rider had red sunburnt cheeks and dirty blonde hair and he was not like the others, he wore no metal armor, he was clad in a dark worn leather tunic with a green sash. As he approached the ranger elf said. "Lamorak, please take this one back into the city and get him some good food and then back to the Aegis please and swiftly." Sensing the boys slight panic he turned back around and knelt back down. "Do you want to keep stealing vegetables from the farms and chase rabbits? Or do you want to learn how to hunt dragons? Those knights there.. They can show you a world you couldn't possibly comprehend."

The elf lifted him up onto the saddle. The boy's eyes were wide and his face tense but he was fascinated and he held on tight as he could as they turned and charged away. He had never been on a horse before after all he thought to himself proudly. He had never seen a bear before either he considered, also... or a knight... Or an elf... And what was an Orc?? So many questions he had so so many. "Elves are real!" He blurted out as they rode. "Oh, Glorfindel?" The sunburnt rider laughed. "Yea he is real, the Knight Marshal of Connemara and that is where we are headed soon, Connemara in Aegis."
 

Glorfindel

Adventurer
UNLEASHED
*The Pius"

It is.. So quiet ere." He thought to himself as he leaned forward resting his head on the cell wall. From one prison to the next he had been taken. The last transition sudden and surprising he had hoped for a different outcome an outcome that would have taken him to the end of his journey but he was being treated and charged as a common attempted murderer such a great disgrace for what he truly was. His eyes remained closed and he breathed deeply he used his hands to push himself away from the wall but leaning against it his head lowered facing the floor. He recited his quest filling his heart with hope, which is the assured expectation of things to come.


Honesty Orodreth's eyes squinted towards the young man curiously listening. "Master, my integrity remains intact.. They started it and I well I finished it." Octavius's eyes brightened looking back to Orodreth for reassurance. Leaning into him with a look of indifference Orodreth shook his head. The robed man standing next to Orodreth then spoke up. "He beat them so badly the one he may not see out of his right eye again.. They are from the House of Lesym. A very well respected and connected family as you know. They will push for him to be expelled and perhaps more." Octavius snarled back. "Next time it may be worse for them. Those two, they are in for it!" The robed man continued and staring down Octavius. "They say he set them up.. That he knew all long.." Octavius put his arms around his back and raised his head up defiantly. "I have my integrity." Orodreth smiled over to the robed man and then squinting back to the Octavius. "Integrity you say?" Coughing gently and leaning his head down. "Octavius, integrity is the truth you tell yourself yes.. Each and everyday we must have it yes. But Honesty is, what you tell everyone else." Raises his arms spreading them around. "Honesty, is the beginning of the path of virtue. Without honesty, there is no virtue." The words seem to hit the young man with such that his eyes welled up and he closed them. "It is true, I did all that I am accused. I knew how they would react and I used this to my advantage." His eyes filled with tears. Orodreth turned to the robed man wincing a bit. "I think enough has been said here, we will take counsel again soon."


Compassion The forest was filled with the cries of battle and the great trees swayed with the emotion of it. Men clashed with sword, shield and spear. Octavius tumbled to the ground he had lost track of Glorfindel in the chaos. He could not feel his left leg. He dared not cry but the pain was so immense and he felt he had fallen down a dark hole and he worked to climb upwards away. He climbed and he climbed away but the pain was overwhelming. He could hear a whimper in the distance but he kept climbing and in intense pain he then stopped. The battle seemed to be a great distance away. Sitting up his leg hurt so intensely he saw that his own blood was all over his hands. Ripping off his tunic he grabbed his shirt from his chest and tore it off and wrapped it around his leg. The thoughts of dying in Yew raced through his mind defiantly. Leaning back in pain he heard the whimpers and cries from a short distance away. Bracing himself he stood up and removed his sabre. But taking a step forward he lunged and collapsed to one knee the pain was so intense. He gathered himself once again and made way to the sounds.. He came into the clearing, standing with blood soaked leather pants. Looking down to the man whimpering he saw the symbol on his chest armor, *the black rose* It was.. His mortal enemy an officer no less. The man was pale faced and shaking. Octavius squinted his eyes down to him, sabre in hand. The time was now. The enemy of all that he had held so dear was within his grasp. He was a squire and after all the killing of an enemy officer would bring great fame and stature. He raised his sabre, he closed his eyes. "Please, please I, I have three boys and a little girl.. Please I beg of you.." The pale faced man pleaded. Octavius raised his sabre looking down. "Your faction has accused falsely the knights of high crimes and treason!" The pale faced man whimpered covering his face. Octavius stopped short, he felt the righteous indignation within him but.. He lowered his sword. He felt the man's pain, he felt his fear, completely. He knew at that moment he would perhaps, one day.. Maybe be in the exact same place at some point as this one and he would hope for mercy. Leaning down, he placed his hands over the man's chest. "My sworn enemy, this day I relieve you of such burden. Go in peace. We will see each other again some day.. Perhaps.. And I pray ye that ye show me the same as I have shown this day.. To you.." His emotions over came him and he fell aside and pushed the man away and he breathed deeply as the man swiftly moved off and away and out of sight. Within the trees stood a cloaked figure in green "What are we Octavia, my boy.. If we show no compassion for those beings whom need it most.."
 
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Glorfindel

Adventurer
UNLEASHED
Honor He patted gently the horses rump letting him know he was there. His hand slid down its leg quickly and grabbed the tendon and lifting the hoof and the horse quickly shifted its weight to the other three legs. Smiling to himself "I have never been much of a farrier." Holding the foot he broke the nail clinches and with his hammer he straightened the nail and loosened and removed the shoe. He carefully cleaned the hoof, downward strokes from heal to toe. Trying not to cut too deeply for this could injure the horse severely. Trimming the hoof he thought of all he had been through the past few years. Stabbed in the leg not once but twice. Knocked off his horse at least five times. He had learned the sword, the bow and the mace. Oh how he loved the mace though. Because it was straightforward and solid with its target, it was brutal and blunt. He noticed some uneven wear. He grabbed from his belt the rasp and began to smooth back the hoof even. From the front of the barn came familiar voice. "Octavia! I believe he is ready for you." Lamorak approached with a big smile.

Back through the snow they approached the old tower. It had been an unusually harsh winter on Dagger Isle and the tower had seen better years the constant falling snow, ice and water had taken its toll. As Lamarok and he approached the iron doors slowly opened to the main chamber. Walking in to his right stood in order with blue cloak and sash. Sir Pericles, Sir Gnaeus Duccius, Sir Arius Maximus. To his left, Sir Chaunce, Sir Glorfindel and sliding in taking his spot Sir Lamarok.

To the center of the chamber and the two lines of men sat a man on a simple wooden chair. His hair and beard were grey, his eyes had seen much war and sorrow. His face was weathered and worn. He wore bronze chainmail but it seemed to be a burden to his frail thin frame. As he approached the man he lowered his head and knelt to one knee.

Clearing his throat the old man gingerly stood up and spoke solemnly. "For some of us, this moment came amidst the battle, when good men had fallen and the need was dire. But then other times, times when things are calm and peaceful we can do this moment what it deserves. You have kept vigil the allotted time?" The old man asked. "I have." He stated back nervously. The old man slowly moved to face him and drawing his sword. Touching his right shoulder with it. "This is your sacramentum. Keep you word and your honor. Defend those who cannot defend themselves. Give mercy when asked. Do not put personal gain above the well being of others. Serve with Loyalty and truth to your brothers. Shun unfairness, cruelty and untruths. Live well be forgiving and generous." He then raised the sword to the other shoulder. "Acta non verba, qui totum vult totum perdit. I, Augustus Maximus, Defensoris dub thee Octavius Sestius Thorn, Knight, Cursoris of Tagmata."
 

Glorfindel

Adventurer
UNLEASHED
Valor- *Twelve Years Ago* Glorfindel's heart was torn asunder, his mind raced with questions. "The Aratar.. They always were to embody the best of.. The best of what our heritage could offer. To protect and serve the greater good. But most importantly to protect the linage. The line, it must not be broken. Yet here we are." He turned towards Octavius Thorn the usual emerald flicker of the elf lord's eyes was gone. It had become a battle of control. A battle of will. Lord Azrael and Setess Zendra of Istas, their will for manipulation was extraordinary. "The Masquerade" they called it was so deceptive and cunning it could be overwhelming to many and it was. Glorfindel thumbed through the letters, letters of those he called friends and each of these letters slowly one by one each fell to the ground. Glorfindel stood there straight and fixed upon Octavius Thorn. Glorfindel searched Octavius's heart, did he understand what he was called to do in this moment?

Octavius's grey eyes searched the elf lord's expressions and he spoke. "I have lived a life of service and to learning. It became advantageous to me and I enjoyed the things it brought me." His demeanor was cold but true. "I am unsure of all of what you are asking of me. But.. I will go to Istas and I will do all I can.. With my life. I am the Captain of the Aratar it is more then my duty, more so truly it is because of our friendship. You have given me a life."

Stepping back abit at Octavius's words, Glorfindel's countenance dropped. "It cannot be me.. My heart, my soul, would deceive me." Glorfindel looked away and gazed upon the seemingly unending tapestry of color in waves that was the setting sun behind Empath Abbey. "I thought in my youth, once the crown's return to Everthorne that men and elves would work together to bring peace to Britannia. I always knew we would have the servants of the Guardian to contend with. But these walking carcasses no, I did not foresee this foe. One like none other. Time and time again they have pushed our patience, They have pushed our oath's to the limits. Doing.. Just enough but never.. And they do this carefully never to shed blood. Thus keeping us with unease but cordial. Giving us the sense we are at peace. But we are not at peace. Aegis has never recovered from their tolerance. They will infect everything with their manipulation. It wont end here in Yew and Everthorne. It will stretch to the ends of Britannia." Glorfindel paused looking back to Octavius. "You must do this in this way. You must go alone and this way they will feel they have the control and the power with their numbers. When you confront them, they will fall over themselves to protect him, to protect Azrael even Zendra. But you alone will draw him out from the shadows."



The artic cold took his breathe away, it cut to his very bones. Cruel and unrelenting in its sensation.. His eyes resting on the city of Istas he felt as if it was without humanity, without feeling. Yet it was full of the arts and the beauty of gothic architecture. Istas was hidden in a mountain pass far to the north in the dark lands of Malas. It was the city of masquerade the city of deception. A city so quiet and seemingly so deserted but it was not. Octavius stepped on the soft snow with a gentle crunch, a first footstep within Istas and reached for his fur coat and pulled it tightly around his tunic with his war axe on his back. He headed straight for Elsyium as he knew time was all that was on his side. As he approached four of the Elysium guards and several of the clan's core elders. Behind them the Setess and Seti Azrael. The Setess hissed at him as he approached leaning with his head down he caught the black eyes of Azrael, Setess Zendra commanded him to halt. He obeyed and removed his war axe from his back. "We were told you came to negotiate." Nodding with a cold smile Octavius stated with a low tone. "I have." The guards surrounded him. Zendra approached where as Azrael remained on the steps. "And this is my negotiation." He raised his leg and lunged it forward kicking and knocking Zendra to the ground. He sliced around to his left crushing the side of the guard, then slicing to his right his war axe took off the head of the next. He blunted the blade of the third's broadsword with the handle. He spun around towards the fourth guard and embedding the head of his axe in his knee dropping him. Azrael lunged at him but Octavius swung with swift precision and violence burying the axe into the shoulder of Azrael breaking the axe with the ferocity of the blow but the elder vampire vanished. He stepped on the throat of Zendra and raised the butt of his axe to end her, but with a cracking sound and black smoke she turned into a panther and scurried off into the dark night.

Losing his footing in the snow a bit he knelt down and lowered his head into his hand with his elbow on his knee. Rubbing his face in his hand to try and get feeling back. It was very quiet as the winds had died down. He gazed around slowly at the surrounding city. At the eastern clearing was a lone barren tree. "That is beautiful." He thought to himself. He stood up and gave out a shrill cry for his hip felt shattered, wincing he stood sturdy, he considered his broken war axe and glanced around for the head. Nodding with a smile but it slowly began to fade as he remembered the words of Glorfindel before he left. “This will forever change you. You will either become the best of us or the worst.”
 
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Glorfindel

Adventurer
UNLEASHED
Spirituality He clumsily fell down into the chair almost head first then rolling over and sighing and groaning looking to the ceiling in intense pain. The journey had been brutal the injury to his hip was severe. He had stitched himself up shortly after leaving Istas but the wound was not healing well. To have made it all the way back this far to Yew he felt was impressive he thought to himself slowly drifting into a deep sleep.



He was awakened by a gentle tug at his shoulder. "Sir, Sir, You are bleeding sir." Eyes heavy and clouded Octavius looked up to the man tugging at him. "This isn't so bad really you just need the right fixins." The man said as he took a white clothe and began to clean the wound. Octavius's eyes began to focus and seeing the man with a receding hairline with heavy lines in his cheeks and a cleft in his lip. "Whatever happened your safe now.. You are in the Empath Abbey." The man said reassuringly tending to the wound. "I am aware.. I am Everthornian." Octavius stated gently looking over and appreciating the work being done to him. "But you are not elvish?" The man quipped back. "No.. but the one who has raised me and taught me all I know, he is an elf lord from Everthorne, its a long story." Octavius leaned his head back on the chair and the man continued. "The elves in the forest ahhh they have been there for so many years but not as long as the abbey and my folks." The man smiled to himself working. "The druids themselves have been here for more then a thousand years before even the Cataclysm." The man finishing the fresh bandages and patted Octavius on the hand and stood up with abit of a groan and a sneer. "I am getting too old. By the way I am Quentyn. I am of the Abbey and the Winery. Your Everthorne is but a drop in the ocean of time that Yew has been." Quentyn continued turning his back and walking towards the bookshelves. "Yew first served the Lost King in the Kingdom of Akalabeth.. To the world we are just old wine makers keeping to ourselves and tending to the needy at the Abbey but my Order.." He stopped himself taking out a book from the shelf and thumbing through the worn pages. "You see we were broken up into monastic orders after the Cataclysm and most of what we knew was slowly forgotten.. The druids continued and the rangers.. Well the rangers made themselves Yew's guardians, but they moved south though formed their own little town on the island..." He laughed shutting the book and walking back over and setting it down on Octavius's chest.

Octavius without moving his head slumped backwards took the book in his hand and the other pulled himself up on the armrest sitting up straight.





"I have been seeking the virtues my whole life good sir. It has brought me a great deal of confliction in my heart my soul." Octavius gazed over to the old man seeing his dark brown worn robe and meeting his kind and understanding eyes. The man smiled back to him. "The virtues are a symptom my son." Octavius looked to him perplexed and questioning. "A symptom of what??" Octavius snarled back with indifference. "Of Truth." Quentyn grinned to him.



Octavius looked down at the book he was holding. It was an old worn tome and the cover was black leather and it was encrusted with small emeralds and it said "Ancient Liturgy of Truth". He glanced back up and the old man was gone. He opened up a few pages in and began to read. (From Historical Background of Shattered Worlds, Yew UO Stratics) "The Monks and Priests of the Liturgy drew power directly from the void itself using raw will and focus to open channels to the universe."
 

Glorfindel

Adventurer
UNLEASHED
Humility The King and Queen had been gone for several months. In their stead Chancellor Sarain Noir had taken leadership and control of the Kingdom. Where they had gone was still unknown and Octavius's heart felt crushed and demoralized over it. "Why wasn't he told, why not even consulted? Was this a kidnapping or Istas and could they possibly have the resources to pull off something like this?" Thoughts raced through his mind day and night. His nights were spent at the Abbey reading as his insomnia had worsened with the stress of never ending raides. Glorfindel had not anymore been the kind and reasonable teacher he had known for so long. Being a King had worn on him in such a peculiar way. You could not see it in his perfect posture, the beauty of his complexion and the aura of his race. Only someone who knew him best could see it. Octavius could see it in just the glint of his eyes, the strain, the fracturing into a million pieces swirling in the elf's emerald eyes.



A kingdom of humanity and elves forged with the elven king and a human queen. It was the dream of his grandfather.



But the reality was so much more difficult then the naive vision of Finwe. Octavius was greatly weakened by the realties of Glorfindel and Ismene being gone. He had often told him in the months before "We can win this war, there is hope! We have come so far and built so much." Octavius slumped over in his chair and the goblet of wine he was holding up awkwardly sitting it on his shoulder fell from his hand slowly was released and tipping over onto the golden Everthorne insignia on his chest the wine slowly covered it turning it red.





Several Days Later- He awoke with the chilling sounds of screams as they fled past him. He had narrowly escaped his horse falling on him and being crushed underneath. Octavius sat up breathlessly and then suddenly realizing where he was and what was taking place. The strength of The Ancient One known as Travixus had grown exponentially. The raids had intensified and the battles were being "lost not won, how could this be, Again??!!" He cried, history was repeating itself. For years they had fought off the undead but the last three weeks they had lost and they had lost badly. Most of the Aratar were dead or wounded. But they would fight to the end it was their duty, their curse. The city would be taken and by nightfall the next day, The Garden of Everthorne was burned to the ground. That is the moment Octavius found himself in. He dragged himself up and staggered to the edge of the clearing and could just barely see from the far distance the spinning shadows all around and the silhouettes of the undead forces and he watched as the flames engulfed and enveloped one of the wonders of the world. He stood there and realized he had not until now known emotion.. Or hurt.. Or good.. In soo long.. He remembered that day again in the Nujel'm square and tears overtook him and he sank to his knees. "This cannot be, cannot." His words choked in his throat. He had known all along he realized, he had never loved he had only lost and here it was again.





Several Months Later "Oh Shut it! You halfwit. Ill beat you! The old man shoved the other as he adjusted the bag on the horse. The two old men had been bickering all day and the sun was bright and there was not a cloud in the sky. "What is that mess?!" The other stopped on the road looking off to the shoulder. A naked man was passed out up against a tree. They forgot what they were arguing about with their curiosity and the fatter old man approached and poked him with his staff. The naked man muttered in his slumber. "Don't do that! What if he is a wild monster?!" The other one yelled. "He is druuunk!" The fatter man sneered. "We can take his gold." The other one laughed. "You idiot! Hes naked! Where is he gonna keep his gold at eh, you dummy!" The naked man rolled over waving them off as if a lord might do to servants. They laughed and the fatter one hit him with his stick. "Maybe ole Percy can use em in the field, he looks like he has a strong back." The other man said with harsh tone in broken common tongue. "C'mon then! Get the other side of em. You are slow on everything aren't ya.." The two men lifted him and swung him over the pack horse. "Cover his bum!"



After a few hours they arrived at a low pitched thatch roofed farm house. The lawn was well maintained and the crops in the foreground leading up were sprouting and ready for harvest. They pulled him off the horses and laid him on the ground. "What on the King's ass have you mongoloids brought with you?!" And even older fatter man stepped off the porch of the farm house. "Mr. Percy we found em on the road and figured we could use him in the fields." The other old man snorted in his broken tongue. "You see that brand on his shoulder.. He was a slave.." Percy knelt down examining the face of the past out man. He then pushed him over and seeing the other shoulder a tattoo insignia of two serpents with green eyes, one devouring the other crowned with golden flowers. Percy sighed a bit wincing as he stood up slowly. "He is likely a deserter.. Get him some clothes and a bucket of water to sober him up.. We will put him to work."
 

Glorfindel

Adventurer
UNLEASHED
He tapped the pestle gently on the edge of the table and then leaning forward he sprinkled a substance into the bowl. He leaned in closely, carefully, blending the substances. Pouring the powdered mixture into a flask and setting it above the burner. He tapped the side of the flask with his finger and watched as the substance slowly turned to a liquid. He quickly pulled his mask over his face and took the flask off the burner and poured the liquid over the blade. He stepped back away from his work. His eyes fixed on the poisoned blade his thoughts and emotions began to swirl.

He turned towards the window in the small room and leaning out on the sill in the cold winter night. The air was crisp and soothing. His memories of his youth in Nujel'm seemed so long ago. Why were those fading memories shaping everything in this moment? He said out loud to himself. "We must be willing to lose and give ourselves over to our greatest fear, and only then can we be free of it." His hand trembled as he covered his mouth. Kneeling down at the window he covered his face with his hands leaning on the sill. He had been running from his fear his whole life. He must face it, he must challenge it by giving himself to it. The Vizier had his mother executed. He must face execution by the Vizier. There could be no revenge.. There is no Honor in revenge. There is no Humility in revenge. There is no Spirituality in revenge. There is no Valor in revenge. There is no Sacrifice in revenge.

He turned back around and sat down underneath the window. Taking in a few deep breaths he noticed the ink well and the parchment up on the chair to his left. Composing himself and pushing his hair back he snatched them up and sat down and began to write. "I Octavius Sestius Thorn, my last will and testament...."
 

Blind Tom the Pirate

Journeyman
Stratics Veteran
Stratics Legend
UNLEASHED
The storm's intensity was growing and the ship was being tossed about with ferocity. The sails were being torn apart but men rushed here and there trying to keep the masts from breaking and to keep all of the sails from being torn off and thrown into the sea, they fought for hours to keep the boat from capsizing. They worked tirelessly. One man seemed indifferent to it all he laughed as they ran about, as they worked. His left arm leaning over the starboard side of the ship his other holding a bottle and pointing at them. "Work, work!" Laughing at them, he was drunk he had been drunk for days. He was shirtless with long black hair and worn pants and bare feet. His face was weathered from the sun and his eyes were grey. He mocked them over and over yet they let him be. "C'mon!! Do me in.. Finally! Throw me in you cowards!" Laughing and taking gulps from the bottle. The sea tossed them violently over and over and lighting crashed and all became dark.

And there was evening and then there was morning a second day.


*Thunk thunk* "Arrrrgggggg" He rolled over on the wet boards his head ached as it never had before. *Thunk thunk* He sat up with eyes closed and crossed his legs under him. Putting his hands in his face. "Bloody 'ell, What is that noise?! "His voice carried higher. He looked up and saw wooden chests being dropped down on the edge of the dock. Sea worn men with sun burnt skin barked at each other dragging the chests back and forth from the ship. "Blasted.." he said muffled as his shoulders sunk and he leaned back on his hands looking up taking in the morning sun and its brightness his face grimacing at the rays. Sighing to himself realizing nobody cared for his state he slowly and gently rolled over and laid down on the dock perfectly fine to spend the rest of the day.

"I will.." Pausing to the officer. "I will take care of him." A hooded cloaked man dropped a bag of coins in to the hands of the officer looking over to the soiled, sunburnt, shirtless man past out. The man turned facing him under his hood he walked toward the end of the pier. He was a tall thin wiry man who moved gracefully under his cloak. He leaned downed and swiped up swiftly the sleeping shirtless man and started to drag him until he began to walk for himself cursing as he did so. "Where is this awful sun shiny dump?" The cloaked man releasing his grip and continuing forward. "Welcome to Zento.. and the lighthouse.."

And there was evening and there was morning a third day.


Lamerok gently lit the candle leaning over the small table. He sat down gingerly in the soft chair facing the wall where a now fully clothed man that he had dragged was now sitting on the floor leaning against the wall. His worn face was sullen but slightly refreshed. Octavius hoarsely began to speak. "I apologize for my.." Lamerok interrupted him. "No need." His face troubled yet questioning and dismissive raising his hand and looking to the floor. Lamerok continued "After the scourge we brought a lot of it all here, this became a bit of a." He paused looking back up. "Home base for a time. For a time is all.. But they were here a great deal." Lamerok shifted a bit in his seat searching for words. Octavius then broke into laughter. "They left you in Tokuno did they?" Sarcastically Octavius barked then his grey eyes lowered, his laughter slowly turned to sadness. "We would have won the war Lamy. We woulda won.." His face slightly brightened looking to Lamerok for reassurance.
Lamerok scratched his beard shaking his head. "What is done is done Thorn. He has requested you back." Leaning over with a smirk looking to Lamerok. "OHHH His Lordship... His Lordship wishes my return to his side!!!!" Sarcastically laughing and wincing. "All I have done, the blood I have spilt.. the.." Clenching his fists Octavius shook his head. Lamerok leaned in calmly. "Augustus has died." The two fell silent and spoke no more.

And there was evening and morning a fourth day.

Octavius swiftly but gently packed the horse he had been given. His hair was combed and his clothes were washed and clean. He looked over to Lamerok. "A knight of honor and distinction. The Argent Knight. And yet ONLY me?" Octavius said as he continued on with his work strapping the saddle tightly. Lamerok looked to him with a smile. "Yew was never my place old friend.. Yew was you and him not me.. I was, I was Skara Brae and what a time it was.. What a time it was..But." Pausing and helping with the saddle "I to have grown old.. Nobody speak the old tongue anymore..."
Aye, twas a good adventure indeed. Good writing I say with a wink and a nod. Truly.
 
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