The Ruins of Clandestine

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The Ruins of Clandestine

Postby Ben » Wed May 21, 2014 8:48 am

There was a rush of displaced air as a figure appeared in the darkness lit, for want of a better word, by patches of luminous fungus. It had been a lot lighter the last time he had seen this place, of course that was before a mountain had landed atop what had once been his home.

Clandestine, base of the Resistance against Erathil, finally eliminated by the High King himself as a byproduct of his main goal: to stop the Soulless taking Dvarni. Such power, such destruction.

He looked around the cavern, taking in the ruins of the village and the fallen, splintered trees that now rotted in the darkness. He moved quickly to the mighty oak so seared into his memory, this was where Danahil had fallen and where, years later, he’d marked the spot where it all began by burying the armour.

He concentrated on the earth before the tree and with a thought, the ground cracked and a bundle of oilcloth erupted from beneath into his outstretched hand. He allowed the dirty material to fall to the floor and the bright chainmail within shone in the darkness. He allowed a smile as he felt the cold weight in his hands. Success.

As the metal flowed through his fingers like liquid steel, he was aware of a presence behind him and he turned slowly. In the ruins behind him, bathed in cool blue light stood a tall, elderly human, he recognised the translucent figure as Sir Cale Sulves, Larkant knight, though he’d never encountered him with both arms.

“You should not have come.” the knight intoned.
“It was important to retrieve my armour.”
Your armour?”
“It was made from the metal that once formed yours and you once said you would rather the metal was doing good rather than you be buried in it. I am fulfilling your wish that it should be put to good use and not buried.”
“Why should I trust you, I know who your father…”
His eyes blazed for a moment, “I am not my father.”
“No, I don’t suppose you are but you have his power. You could wreak the same destruction.”
“I choose not to.”
“You know what I said about the armour, do you recall the code?”
He nodded and recited from memory “A knight is sworn to valour, his heart knows only virtue, his blade defends the helpless, his might protects the weak, his word speaks only truth, his wrath undoes the wicked.”
“But do you understand it?” the elderly knight hissed.
The other figure stopped for a moment as the thought crossed his mind that this would be a good time to listen rather than demonstrate how much he knew and Cale Sulves began to speak once more “A knight is sworn to valour. Never let an insult go unanswered and always defend that which you believe.
His heart knows only virtue. He is an agent of good.
His blade defends the helpless. The bow and knife are not weapons of a knight. They can kill efficiently, quietly but a knight never attacks an unaware opponent. We carry a sword but hope not to have to use it.
His might protects the weak.
His word speaks only truth. Never lie nor hide your identity though you may refuse to answer.
His wrath undoes the wicked.
Is that a code you can live by?”
He’d heard the question before...from this this place...but it took him off guard and he’d drawn his sword, dropped to one knee and begun speaking before he’d had a chance to think “I am sworn to valour and to virtue and by my blade and by my might I will undo the wicked, defend the helpless and bring freedom to the weak. I give my oath.” those were the words he'd spoken years before, this scene had been played out before and it seemed right to give the same responses.
The knight nodded and raised his sword to the other man’s shoulder “Then I name you my successor as knight. May Mektar guide your path, may he watch your actions and see you as worthy.”
As he stood up, the ghost was nowhere to be seen and he realised he was wearing the armour he had retrieved and it felt as if it had been made for him.
Perhaps it had.
With that thought he disappeared.
"And unconscious people always count as willing"

Tome of Magic 6.0

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