Post by Dame Lovisa von Ascheberg on Dec 18, 2014 16:58:43 GMT -5
The horses hooves clattered noisily as she directed the beast to a halt, stomping against the broken stone that had laid a path to the courtyard of the Hexenthal chapel as she examined its exterior in silence. It was a gloomy building of stone darkened with age, ivy clinging to its walls with a vice like grip as the lands seemed to try and absorb it. It was as she had expected, even down to the tombstones scattered around the perimeter and the crows perched on the iron railings, as while she did not hold faith in any particular deity most chapels she had seen tended to follow a typical design. Once you had found something that worked, why bother changing it?
Wincing with the ache of a long ride, she shifted her body and slid down from her mount, holding onto its reigns as she steadied herself against the ground until it stopped rolling beneath her feet: a hand rising to pat the beast before she led it towards the chapel. While the buildings themselves looked to be long since abandoned, they had not yet crumbled and seemed to be in reasonable state of repair. Leaving her horse she took a quick look around the area, finding a crude stable where she could house her mount for the next few hours, and a small building that may have been the former caretakers hovel. Taking her horse to the stable, she completed the rudimentary task of stripping the tack from its body and granting it a brisk rub down and treating it with some of its rations from the saddlebags. She had found a water pump near the hovel, and after locating a bucket she was able to let the horse drink its fill before securing it away in case it got curious of its surroundings and went exploring whilst she was otherwise occupied.
Her journey had been a long one, but she did not have time to rest. After securing her equipment and retrieving her shield, she had ridden from Sarkotos to Kullyr, spending several weeks on the trail dodging bandits and various extremists, and after having reached a few hours ride away from Hexenthal chapel itself she had spent the night at a cheap inn to ensure she had plenty of rest and food: because the next day was going to be full of fasting, contemplation, and wakefulness as part of her Vigil. She had not seen Kythin before she left on her journey, but she had found the horse waiting for her on the day she decided she was ready to leave Sarkotos, so she imagined that he knew what she was about.
Leaving her horse to its own devices, she took the bucket, her pack and a clean change of clothes to the caretakers room, and after filling it with water she set about the unpleasant task of purifying herself. The water was frightfully cold and set her teeth to chattering, goosebumps running rampant across her skin as she chased the trail dust from her limbs: even with the mild spring sun coming through the window, she found herself shivering violently by the time she was done, dripping and dressed in the purest white clothes she could find at the time. Simple linens, but they were symbolic of the alleged purity of her soul and intentions. She supposed it meant something to someone, somewhere, but as far as she was concerned she could only see how difficult they would be to clean once dirty, and the light material left her feeling painfully undressed and defenceless. While she glanced longingly at the pile of padded cloth and leathers she had worn for her journey, she was determined to undertake this task in the correct manner: this is what she had been told to do, and so she would do it. Not enough time had passed to allow the military veneer to wear off her spirit, but considering she was moving from one discipline and into another .. not much was going to change.
“Ok.”
Rubbing her arms with cold hands in an attempt to warm the skin back up, she collected her pack and moved from the caretakers hovel and into the fading sunlight. The Vigil was supposed to start at nightfall and end when the sun rose. She was supposed to sit in quiet, meditative contemplation. She had been told that she could think about anything that she wished, but she suspected that she was required to dwell on her reasons for wanting to attain knighthood, how she might go about it, what she would do once she was there. She did not know. There was something significant about the Hexanthal chapel, Kythin had claimed that he was knighted there by King Hexenthal, and that the man had 'met his end' in that very chapel. He did not elaborate on the hows or whys, only that it meant that he and his squires had a history here, and that it may be dangerous .. Lovisa gritted her teeth and set her jaw, taking the first steps up to the chapel and pulling on the heavy doors. She would go through with it, she would not return a coward or a failure.
The first thing that struck her was the heavy musty air that filled the chapel, it hung thick and stagnant within the large chamber and spoke of months – if not years and longer – of disuse. Stepping inside, she closed the doors behind her and began to search for a light source: if she was going to be here all night until dawns break, she would not do so in the dark where she would be liable to hurt herself. It did not take long before she saw several waiting sconces in the wall, and after rummaging around in her pack she had the chamber bathed in the flickering light of flames with the careful application of her flint and steel. It did not offer much warmth unless she was standing next to the torches, but the luminance cast a reassuring glow that helped dispel some of the oppressive weight of the chapel, and as she stowed her pack behind a debris covered pew she was grateful for its presence. Moving to the center of the chamber she slowly turned and examined the interior of the chapel. The walls were tall and riddled with carvings of a nature she was unfamiliar with, the windows were large and swooping, filled with coloured glass that cast tainted light on the tiled floor. She supposed at one point it had been beautiful: a priest standing in the pulpit with his arms raised high as he addressed his deity of choice and the congregation looked on. Now however, it only looked grim. And a little creepy.
Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she stepped forward and found somewhere to sit. She supposed that she should be kneeling for this, but she doubted that she could keep her concentration while her limbs fell asleep or she was plagued with pins and needles. Maybe it was part of the test. Maybe it wasn't. She opted for the latter and settled down as comfortably as one could given the cold stone and disturbing atmosphere. Taking a breath, she tried to steady her heartbeat and enter into a state of peaceful contemplation worthy of the most disciplined of monks at a monastery.
It was safe to say, that it did not work. Perhaps it was something that could not be forced?
Another breath taken, and she found her mind wandering to the times when the cadets would be herded into the academy’s own chapel and walked through collective worship. A few of them took it seriously, but more often than not it was used as a time to daydream or worry about that days exams or gossip amongst themselves when they were sure they wouldn't be seen by their higher ups. She found herself mouthing the words of the creed, focusing on the shapes her lips made of the sounds that did not escape her throat, the feel of the tongues movement as it worked through the prayer.
“Ich gloub in einen gott, in den vatter, allmechtigen, den schöpffer himmels...”
She moved through the verses hammered into her mind by rote, barely thinking about the next line before it rose to her lips and sought its way out, starting again from the beginning once she had reached the end without even realising it. Gradually her mind cleared and she forgot that she was sitting on the cold hard floor of an abandoned chapel in the middle of Kullyr, far from home, far from family, her only ally a horse napping in the stables.
Why are you here? Because I would join the Knighthood.
Why? Because I wish to protect the weak and helpless.
Why? Because I was not.
You grew, and you prospered. I was beaten and ridiculed.
You became strong, and capable. I was hard, brittle and uncaring.
You learned, and excelled. I was ignorant, knew nothing of the real world.
You were a solider-in-training. I was a grunt with no future, only a sword.
You made friends, comrades. I lost them. I was discharged.
So. You who would be a knight .. I will uphold the code.
.. For yourself? For myself. For all.
Time passed, cracked lips barely moving though the intent was there. The flames flickered as air shifted throughout the chapel, dull thuds sounding as the horse startled awake and struggled against its bindings. These sounds were far away, barely playing at the edges of her awareness and easily ignored: her whole world was the steady rise and fall of her chest as air was pulled in and then gently pushed out of her lungs.
It was hard however, to ignore the cold fingers that gripped her throat.
A startled croak was all she could give as the weight fell onto her back and pushed her numb body down, the woman scrabbling against the floor as life slowly returned to her limbs and she was able to get herself turned around so she could see her assailant: and then quickly wished that she could forget it. A desiccated, haggard face met hers and sent her scooting backwards across the chapel floor, lifeless glassy eyes staring into her own as the thing followed her with far more grace than its body implied, its fingers reaching out to grip her shoulders and bring her close. She was in shock, stunned, and while she was normally capable of quashing fear as far down as she could she was wholly unprepared for this ghoulish creature that assaulted her. She could feel something take place .. she felt the energy leaving her body as it gripped her shoulders ever tighter, sapping her will, draining her desire to flee. Carefully it dropped its head down until it was a mere hand span away from her face, and all she could see were those large dead eyes and grey parchment skin.
Somewhere within there was a tugging sensation, and a thin trail of light escaped from her parted lips and into its own mouth. Panic coursed through her veins: the thing was drinking at her life force! She tried to look away but could not move her head to do so, belatedly realising that even if she was capable of moving, her weaponry was stashed away in the caretakers hovel as part of the ritualistic vigil. She was unarmed and defenceless, and while she was capable of basic hand to hand this creature was doing something to her that rendered her unable to move very effectively. A whimper escaped her mouth as the thing sucked in another thin sliver of light: she was surely going to die, just another meal to this unholy beast.
With each little sip of life that was stolen from her, a sharp pain grew within her chest and pounded inside of her skull. Occasionally she would be able to lift an arm or curl her hand, but any strikes she levied against her assailant were easily brushed off and its feeding resumed, leaving her in a weakened state that only grew with time. That pain pulsed in her chest, and she felt her skin grow hot and clammy, beads of sweat rolling down her face as the panic just grew and grew until she felt as if she could choke on it. But the beast remained unconcerned, another sip of life stolen from her lips.
A pressure grew alongside the painful beating within her heart, and she felt it climb up her throat until she was sure she was going to throw up. Her vision darkened, her ears grew deaf to the world save for a curious buzzing from inside her own head, and soon she was unable to feel even the ground beneath her body as the life left her skin.
Then the world exploded.
A rich flame billowed from her mouth of its own accord and into the ghoulish creature, lapping at its dead skin and devouring its face, racing down its throat and pathways and scorching its belly. Fire roiled in its lungs and dug away at its bones, dry veins crumbling to dust as the creature was sent reeling from her body while the destructive force ravaged and destroyed, the thing collapsing in on itself, a pile of glowing embers left where the husk had fallen.
Lovisa breathed, her heart beat weakly in her chest, and the sun rose.
Wincing with the ache of a long ride, she shifted her body and slid down from her mount, holding onto its reigns as she steadied herself against the ground until it stopped rolling beneath her feet: a hand rising to pat the beast before she led it towards the chapel. While the buildings themselves looked to be long since abandoned, they had not yet crumbled and seemed to be in reasonable state of repair. Leaving her horse she took a quick look around the area, finding a crude stable where she could house her mount for the next few hours, and a small building that may have been the former caretakers hovel. Taking her horse to the stable, she completed the rudimentary task of stripping the tack from its body and granting it a brisk rub down and treating it with some of its rations from the saddlebags. She had found a water pump near the hovel, and after locating a bucket she was able to let the horse drink its fill before securing it away in case it got curious of its surroundings and went exploring whilst she was otherwise occupied.
Her journey had been a long one, but she did not have time to rest. After securing her equipment and retrieving her shield, she had ridden from Sarkotos to Kullyr, spending several weeks on the trail dodging bandits and various extremists, and after having reached a few hours ride away from Hexenthal chapel itself she had spent the night at a cheap inn to ensure she had plenty of rest and food: because the next day was going to be full of fasting, contemplation, and wakefulness as part of her Vigil. She had not seen Kythin before she left on her journey, but she had found the horse waiting for her on the day she decided she was ready to leave Sarkotos, so she imagined that he knew what she was about.
Leaving her horse to its own devices, she took the bucket, her pack and a clean change of clothes to the caretakers room, and after filling it with water she set about the unpleasant task of purifying herself. The water was frightfully cold and set her teeth to chattering, goosebumps running rampant across her skin as she chased the trail dust from her limbs: even with the mild spring sun coming through the window, she found herself shivering violently by the time she was done, dripping and dressed in the purest white clothes she could find at the time. Simple linens, but they were symbolic of the alleged purity of her soul and intentions. She supposed it meant something to someone, somewhere, but as far as she was concerned she could only see how difficult they would be to clean once dirty, and the light material left her feeling painfully undressed and defenceless. While she glanced longingly at the pile of padded cloth and leathers she had worn for her journey, she was determined to undertake this task in the correct manner: this is what she had been told to do, and so she would do it. Not enough time had passed to allow the military veneer to wear off her spirit, but considering she was moving from one discipline and into another .. not much was going to change.
“Ok.”
Rubbing her arms with cold hands in an attempt to warm the skin back up, she collected her pack and moved from the caretakers hovel and into the fading sunlight. The Vigil was supposed to start at nightfall and end when the sun rose. She was supposed to sit in quiet, meditative contemplation. She had been told that she could think about anything that she wished, but she suspected that she was required to dwell on her reasons for wanting to attain knighthood, how she might go about it, what she would do once she was there. She did not know. There was something significant about the Hexanthal chapel, Kythin had claimed that he was knighted there by King Hexenthal, and that the man had 'met his end' in that very chapel. He did not elaborate on the hows or whys, only that it meant that he and his squires had a history here, and that it may be dangerous .. Lovisa gritted her teeth and set her jaw, taking the first steps up to the chapel and pulling on the heavy doors. She would go through with it, she would not return a coward or a failure.
The first thing that struck her was the heavy musty air that filled the chapel, it hung thick and stagnant within the large chamber and spoke of months – if not years and longer – of disuse. Stepping inside, she closed the doors behind her and began to search for a light source: if she was going to be here all night until dawns break, she would not do so in the dark where she would be liable to hurt herself. It did not take long before she saw several waiting sconces in the wall, and after rummaging around in her pack she had the chamber bathed in the flickering light of flames with the careful application of her flint and steel. It did not offer much warmth unless she was standing next to the torches, but the luminance cast a reassuring glow that helped dispel some of the oppressive weight of the chapel, and as she stowed her pack behind a debris covered pew she was grateful for its presence. Moving to the center of the chamber she slowly turned and examined the interior of the chapel. The walls were tall and riddled with carvings of a nature she was unfamiliar with, the windows were large and swooping, filled with coloured glass that cast tainted light on the tiled floor. She supposed at one point it had been beautiful: a priest standing in the pulpit with his arms raised high as he addressed his deity of choice and the congregation looked on. Now however, it only looked grim. And a little creepy.
Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she stepped forward and found somewhere to sit. She supposed that she should be kneeling for this, but she doubted that she could keep her concentration while her limbs fell asleep or she was plagued with pins and needles. Maybe it was part of the test. Maybe it wasn't. She opted for the latter and settled down as comfortably as one could given the cold stone and disturbing atmosphere. Taking a breath, she tried to steady her heartbeat and enter into a state of peaceful contemplation worthy of the most disciplined of monks at a monastery.
It was safe to say, that it did not work. Perhaps it was something that could not be forced?
Another breath taken, and she found her mind wandering to the times when the cadets would be herded into the academy’s own chapel and walked through collective worship. A few of them took it seriously, but more often than not it was used as a time to daydream or worry about that days exams or gossip amongst themselves when they were sure they wouldn't be seen by their higher ups. She found herself mouthing the words of the creed, focusing on the shapes her lips made of the sounds that did not escape her throat, the feel of the tongues movement as it worked through the prayer.
“Ich gloub in einen gott, in den vatter, allmechtigen, den schöpffer himmels...”
She moved through the verses hammered into her mind by rote, barely thinking about the next line before it rose to her lips and sought its way out, starting again from the beginning once she had reached the end without even realising it. Gradually her mind cleared and she forgot that she was sitting on the cold hard floor of an abandoned chapel in the middle of Kullyr, far from home, far from family, her only ally a horse napping in the stables.
Why are you here? Because I would join the Knighthood.
Why? Because I wish to protect the weak and helpless.
Why? Because I was not.
You grew, and you prospered. I was beaten and ridiculed.
You became strong, and capable. I was hard, brittle and uncaring.
You learned, and excelled. I was ignorant, knew nothing of the real world.
You were a solider-in-training. I was a grunt with no future, only a sword.
You made friends, comrades. I lost them. I was discharged.
So. You who would be a knight .. I will uphold the code.
.. For yourself? For myself. For all.
Time passed, cracked lips barely moving though the intent was there. The flames flickered as air shifted throughout the chapel, dull thuds sounding as the horse startled awake and struggled against its bindings. These sounds were far away, barely playing at the edges of her awareness and easily ignored: her whole world was the steady rise and fall of her chest as air was pulled in and then gently pushed out of her lungs.
It was hard however, to ignore the cold fingers that gripped her throat.
A startled croak was all she could give as the weight fell onto her back and pushed her numb body down, the woman scrabbling against the floor as life slowly returned to her limbs and she was able to get herself turned around so she could see her assailant: and then quickly wished that she could forget it. A desiccated, haggard face met hers and sent her scooting backwards across the chapel floor, lifeless glassy eyes staring into her own as the thing followed her with far more grace than its body implied, its fingers reaching out to grip her shoulders and bring her close. She was in shock, stunned, and while she was normally capable of quashing fear as far down as she could she was wholly unprepared for this ghoulish creature that assaulted her. She could feel something take place .. she felt the energy leaving her body as it gripped her shoulders ever tighter, sapping her will, draining her desire to flee. Carefully it dropped its head down until it was a mere hand span away from her face, and all she could see were those large dead eyes and grey parchment skin.
Somewhere within there was a tugging sensation, and a thin trail of light escaped from her parted lips and into its own mouth. Panic coursed through her veins: the thing was drinking at her life force! She tried to look away but could not move her head to do so, belatedly realising that even if she was capable of moving, her weaponry was stashed away in the caretakers hovel as part of the ritualistic vigil. She was unarmed and defenceless, and while she was capable of basic hand to hand this creature was doing something to her that rendered her unable to move very effectively. A whimper escaped her mouth as the thing sucked in another thin sliver of light: she was surely going to die, just another meal to this unholy beast.
With each little sip of life that was stolen from her, a sharp pain grew within her chest and pounded inside of her skull. Occasionally she would be able to lift an arm or curl her hand, but any strikes she levied against her assailant were easily brushed off and its feeding resumed, leaving her in a weakened state that only grew with time. That pain pulsed in her chest, and she felt her skin grow hot and clammy, beads of sweat rolling down her face as the panic just grew and grew until she felt as if she could choke on it. But the beast remained unconcerned, another sip of life stolen from her lips.
A pressure grew alongside the painful beating within her heart, and she felt it climb up her throat until she was sure she was going to throw up. Her vision darkened, her ears grew deaf to the world save for a curious buzzing from inside her own head, and soon she was unable to feel even the ground beneath her body as the life left her skin.
Then the world exploded.
A rich flame billowed from her mouth of its own accord and into the ghoulish creature, lapping at its dead skin and devouring its face, racing down its throat and pathways and scorching its belly. Fire roiled in its lungs and dug away at its bones, dry veins crumbling to dust as the creature was sent reeling from her body while the destructive force ravaged and destroyed, the thing collapsing in on itself, a pile of glowing embers left where the husk had fallen.
Lovisa breathed, her heart beat weakly in her chest, and the sun rose.
