The Wendigo, hearing the commotion outside the keep, peeks out of the entrance to see the Autumn King and the Beastlord. Noctis, floats beside him. "Is everything alright? It sounded like there was a scuffle earlier."
The Beastknight turns. "Beastknight...killed...Hunter..."
"Oh, I see." The creature says seeing the carnage that took place more clearly now. "So things are safe now....?"
It nods.
"That is good." The Wendigo says relieved, before speaking up again. "Well, if you would like anything to eat or drink after your battle, I'm using the King's kitchen to cook and bake. I'd be happy to make you something."
"Beastknight...does...not...eat.."
"Ah, I see. Well still, thank you for keeping the Keep safe."
"it..is...Beastknight...duty..."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
Near the keep, smoke blows on the wind. It smells sweet and dark and decadent, and when it blows to a certain spot, it coalesces, printing a hill-giant-shaped and -sized robber baron, starting from the soles of his shoes to the crown of his hat. The sunlight seems dimmer near it, and its spiraling golden eyes are the brightest lights in the area, shining in random directions as the creature looks around.
It taps its oversized cane against the ground. "So this is the Autumn Country." Its wild eyes turn to the Beastknight. "Nice armor. Not that I could wear it. A bit small for me." He raises a hand, conjuring 12 more identical clawed white gloves in the air. All the hands snap their fingers. Shadowy, smoky spirits manifest from the dark, all tentacles and teeth and glowing eyes. An entire militia of demons. "Nice to know that still works. Get us the flame." The spirits all begin to circle around the Beastknight, afraid to get close enough to enter the Keep.
"Seems it's in there. Library, perhaps?" He takes a deep inhale, closing his eyes, scrying through the darkness. "Yes. Yes, the library. Surrounded by all those fragile books. How unfortunate for everyone."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
The crooked flower turns to Felix, a sense of hunger and desperation in its movements.
"...We must find... the King... This is our... best chance..."
"Yes! I will send out my network to alert him. This will cost me many favors, but I can't wait to cook those flames for you! I'll call up one of my old masters for help, too. He's a smoke spirit, and he'd love a chance to visit the Autumn Country!"
"...Good plan..." Helianth straightens their warped stem as upwards as it can, sensing a warmth in the air. "...I can... sense it... Follow me..." It begins to crawl in the general direction of wherever the Flame is being held.
The Beastknight imposes their path. 'No...you...wont...take..flame..."
The flower is silent, as it crawls forward around the knight, seeing them more as a roadblock than a threat.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
The crooked flower turns to Felix, a sense of hunger and desperation in its movements.
"...We must find... the King... This is our... best chance..."
"Yes! I will send out my network to alert him. This will cost me many favors, but I can't wait to cook those flames for you! I'll call up one of my old masters for help, too. He's a smoke spirit, and he'd love a chance to visit the Autumn Country!"
"...Good plan..." Helianth straightens their warped stem as upwards as it can, sensing a warmth in the air. "...I can... sense it... Follow me..." It begins to crawl in the general direction of wherever the Flame is being held.
The Beastknight imposes their path. 'No...you...wont...take..flame..."
The flower is silent, as it crawls forward around the knight, seeing them more as a roadblock than a threat.
The Knight glows a bright gold, slamming its tail into the ground, shattering the stones infront of the flower. "Stop."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
The Wendigo, seeing this newcomer shrinks a bit behind the entrance way while Noctis shrieks in warning, smoke billowing from his mouth as the flaming heart in the wendigo's chest starts to beat faster.
Near the keep, smoke blows on the wind. It smells sweet and dark and decadent, and when it blows to a certain spot, it coalesces, printing a hill-giant-shaped and -sized robber baron, starting from the soles of his shoes to the crown of his hat. The sunlight seems dimmer near it, and its spiraling golden eyes are the brightest lights in the area, shining in random directions as the creature looks around.
It taps its oversized cane against the ground. "So this is the Autumn Country." Its wild eyes turn to the Beastknight. "Nice armor. Not that I could wear it. A bit small for me." He raises a hand, conjuring 12 more identical clawed white gloves in the air. All the hands snap their fingers. Shadowy, smoky spirits manifest from the dark, all tentacles and teeth and glowing eyes. An entire militia of demons. "Nice to know that still works. Get us the flame." The spirits all begin to circle around the Beastknight, afraid to get close enough to enter the Keep.
"Seems it's in there. Library, perhaps?" He takes a deep inhale, closing his eyes, scrying through the darkness. "Yes. Yes, the library. Surrounded by all those fragile books. How unfortunate for everyone."
The Beastknight raises his sword. "No....leave now...trespasser...."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
The Wendigo, seeing this newcomer shrinks a bit behind the entrance way while Noctis shrieks in warning, smoke billowing from his mouth as the flaming heart in the wendigo's chest starts to beat faster.
The golden spirals burn in the smoke spirit's skull as it turns its antlered head. It raises its cane... and knocks on the wall of the Keep.
"Knock, knock, knock. May I come in, little friends? I mean you no harm... I'm a cook, just like you. I just have different techniques."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
The crooked flower turns to Felix, a sense of hunger and desperation in its movements.
"...We must find... the King... This is our... best chance..."
"Yes! I will send out my network to alert him. This will cost me many favors, but I can't wait to cook those flames for you! I'll call up one of my old masters for help, too. He's a smoke spirit, and he'd love a chance to visit the Autumn Country!"
"...Good plan..." Helianth straightens their warped stem as upwards as it can, sensing a warmth in the air. "...I can... sense it... Follow me..." It begins to crawl in the general direction of wherever the Flame is being held.
The Beastknight imposes their path. 'No...you...wont...take..flame..."
The flower is silent, as it crawls forward around the knight, seeing them more as a roadblock than a threat.
The Knight glows a bright gold, slamming its tail into the ground, shattering the stones infront of the flower. "Stop."
"...No..." It attempts to quite literally push the knight to the side as it continues towards the library, dead-set on its goal.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
Near the keep, smoke blows on the wind. It smells sweet and dark and decadent, and when it blows to a certain spot, it coalesces, printing a hill-giant-shaped and -sized robber baron, starting from the soles of his shoes to the crown of his hat. The sunlight seems dimmer near it, and its spiraling golden eyes are the brightest lights in the area, shining in random directions as the creature looks around.
It taps its oversized cane against the ground. "So this is the Autumn Country." Its wild eyes turn to the Beastknight. "Nice armor. Not that I could wear it. A bit small for me." He raises a hand, conjuring 12 more identical clawed white gloves in the air. All the hands snap their fingers. Shadowy, smoky spirits manifest from the dark, all tentacles and teeth and glowing eyes. An entire militia of demons. "Nice to know that still works. Get us the flame." The spirits all begin to circle around the Beastknight, afraid to get close enough to enter the Keep.
"Seems it's in there. Library, perhaps?" He takes a deep inhale, closing his eyes, scrying through the darkness. "Yes. Yes, the library. Surrounded by all those fragile books. How unfortunate for everyone."
The Beastknight raises his sword. "No....leave now...trespasser...."
He chuckles. "And who's going to move me? This keep is for everyone, remember? The King himself decreed as much. Are you saying you don't believe that the King's judgment is as important as your own?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
The crooked flower turns to Felix, a sense of hunger and desperation in its movements.
"...We must find... the King... This is our... best chance..."
"Yes! I will send out my network to alert him. This will cost me many favors, but I can't wait to cook those flames for you! I'll call up one of my old masters for help, too. He's a smoke spirit, and he'd love a chance to visit the Autumn Country!"
"...Good plan..." Helianth straightens their warped stem as upwards as it can, sensing a warmth in the air. "...I can... sense it... Follow me..." It begins to crawl in the general direction of wherever the Flame is being held.
The Beastknight imposes their path. 'No...you...wont...take..flame..."
The flower is silent, as it crawls forward around the knight, seeing them more as a roadblock than a threat.
The Knight glows a bright gold, slamming its tail into the ground, shattering the stones infront of the flower. "Stop."
"...No..." It attempts to quite literally push the knight to the side as it continues towards the library, dead-set on its goal.
The ground shatters as he holds its ground. "NO!"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
Near the keep, smoke blows on the wind. It smells sweet and dark and decadent, and when it blows to a certain spot, it coalesces, printing a hill-giant-shaped and -sized robber baron, starting from the soles of his shoes to the crown of his hat. The sunlight seems dimmer near it, and its spiraling golden eyes are the brightest lights in the area, shining in random directions as the creature looks around.
It taps its oversized cane against the ground. "So this is the Autumn Country." Its wild eyes turn to the Beastknight. "Nice armor. Not that I could wear it. A bit small for me." He raises a hand, conjuring 12 more identical clawed white gloves in the air. All the hands snap their fingers. Shadowy, smoky spirits manifest from the dark, all tentacles and teeth and glowing eyes. An entire militia of demons. "Nice to know that still works. Get us the flame." The spirits all begin to circle around the Beastknight, afraid to get close enough to enter the Keep.
"Seems it's in there. Library, perhaps?" He takes a deep inhale, closing his eyes, scrying through the darkness. "Yes. Yes, the library. Surrounded by all those fragile books. How unfortunate for everyone."
The Beastknight raises his sword. "No....leave now...trespasser...."
He chuckles. "And who's going to move me? This keep is for everyone, remember? The King himself decreed as much. Are you saying you don't believe that the King's judgment is as important as your own?"
The Knight swings his blade, making the spirits back away. "I...protect...Keep...I...allow...who...in..and who out.."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
The Wendigo, seeing this newcomer shrinks a bit behind the entrance way while Noctis shrieks in warning, smoke billowing from his mouth as the flaming heart in the wendigo's chest starts to beat faster.
The golden spirals burn in the smoke spirit's skull as it turns its antlered head. It raises its cane... and knocks on the wall of the Keep.
"Knock, knock, knock. May I come in, little friends? I mean you no harm... I'm a cook, just like you. I just have different techniques."
The wendigo yelps and backs away a bit. "I'm not incharge or anything, so I have no authority...." He says nervously, not really sure what is even going on right now. Noctis places himself between his twin brother and the man, baring his shadowy fangs from his more wolf-like skull protectively. Noctis isn't certain what is going on either, but won't let his brother come to harm.
The crooked flower turns to Felix, a sense of hunger and desperation in its movements.
"...We must find... the King... This is our... best chance..."
"Yes! I will send out my network to alert him. This will cost me many favors, but I can't wait to cook those flames for you! I'll call up one of my old masters for help, too. He's a smoke spirit, and he'd love a chance to visit the Autumn Country!"
"...Good plan..." Helianth straightens their warped stem as upwards as it can, sensing a warmth in the air. "...I can... sense it... Follow me..." It begins to crawl in the general direction of wherever the Flame is being held.
The Beastknight imposes their path. 'No...you...wont...take..flame..."
The flower is silent, as it crawls forward around the knight, seeing them more as a roadblock than a threat.
The Knight glows a bright gold, slamming its tail into the ground, shattering the stones infront of the flower. "Stop."
"...No..." It attempts to quite literally push the knight to the side as it continues towards the library, dead-set on its goal.
The ground shatters as he holds its ground. "NO!"
The crooked flower, growing increasingly frustrated, grabs at the knight's sword with its roots in an attempt to forcibly disarm them. As frail as the creature seems, it has a deceptive amount of strength.
The crooked flower turns to Felix, a sense of hunger and desperation in its movements.
"...We must find... the King... This is our... best chance..."
"Yes! I will send out my network to alert him. This will cost me many favors, but I can't wait to cook those flames for you! I'll call up one of my old masters for help, too. He's a smoke spirit, and he'd love a chance to visit the Autumn Country!"
"...Good plan..." Helianth straightens their warped stem as upwards as it can, sensing a warmth in the air. "...I can... sense it... Follow me..." It begins to crawl in the general direction of wherever the Flame is being held.
The Beastknight imposes their path. 'No...you...wont...take..flame..."
The flower is silent, as it crawls forward around the knight, seeing them more as a roadblock than a threat.
The Knight glows a bright gold, slamming its tail into the ground, shattering the stones infront of the flower. "Stop."
"...No..." It attempts to quite literally push the knight to the side as it continues towards the library, dead-set on its goal.
The ground shatters as he holds its ground. "NO!"
The crooked flower, growing increasingly frustrated, grabs at the knight's sword with its roots in an attempt to forcibly disarm them.
His grip tightens as he kicks the flowers stem with surprising strength.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
Helianth roots itself into the ground to resist being pushed, sliding about a foot away. Its grip remains on their sword, which it continually tries to tear away from its wielder.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
Helianth roots itself into the ground to resist being pushed, sliding about a foot away. Its grip remains on their sword, which it continually tries to tear away from its wielder.
The sword starts to slowly slice the flower as he yanks it back
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
Helianth roots itself into the ground to resist being pushed, sliding about a foot away. Its grip remains on their sword, which it continually tries to tear away from its wielder.
The sword starts to slowly slice the flower as he yanks it back
As fragile as the monster looks, the blade cutting through its stem feels like attempting to saw through a tree with a sword. Helianth doesn't seem to notice, or if they do, they simply don't care. They continue to pull at the blade.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
Helianth roots itself into the ground to resist being pushed, sliding about a foot away. Its grip remains on their sword, which it continually tries to tear away from its wielder.
The sword starts to slowly slice the flower as he yanks it back
As fragile as the monster looks, the blade cutting through its stem feels like attempting to saw through a tree with a sword. Helianth doesn't seem to notice, or if they do, they simply don't care. They continue to pull at the blade.
The blade slices through them, burning with holy fire.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
Near the keep, smoke blows on the wind. It smells sweet and dark and decadent, and when it blows to a certain spot, it coalesces, printing a hill-giant-shaped and -sized robber baron, starting from the soles of his shoes to the crown of his hat. The sunlight seems dimmer near it, and its spiraling golden eyes are the brightest lights in the area, shining in random directions as the creature looks around.
It taps its oversized cane against the ground. "So this is the Autumn Country." Its wild eyes turn to the Beastknight. "Nice armor. Not that I could wear it. A bit small for me." He raises a hand, conjuring 12 more identical clawed white gloves in the air. All the hands snap their fingers. Shadowy, smoky spirits manifest from the dark, all tentacles and teeth and glowing eyes. An entire militia of demons. "Nice to know that still works. Get us the flame." The spirits all begin to circle around the Beastknight, afraid to get close enough to enter the Keep.
"Seems it's in there. Library, perhaps?" He takes a deep inhale, closing his eyes, scrying through the darkness. "Yes. Yes, the library. Surrounded by all those fragile books. How unfortunate for everyone."
The Beastknight raises his sword. "No....leave now...trespasser...."
He chuckles. "And who's going to move me? This keep is for everyone, remember? The King himself decreed as much. Are you saying you don't believe that the King's judgment is as important as your own?"
The Knight swings his blade, making the spirits back away. "I...protect...Keep...I...allow...who...in..and who out.."
The greater spirit tilts his head, the spirals tightening. "I'm being polite. I'll come in with or without your permission. It only matters where and how I enter."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
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"it..is...Beastknight...duty..."
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
Near the keep, smoke blows on the wind. It smells sweet and dark and decadent, and when it blows to a certain spot, it coalesces, printing a hill-giant-shaped and -sized robber baron, starting from the soles of his shoes to the crown of his hat. The sunlight seems dimmer near it, and its spiraling golden eyes are the brightest lights in the area, shining in random directions as the creature looks around.
It taps its oversized cane against the ground. "So this is the Autumn Country." Its wild eyes turn to the Beastknight. "Nice armor. Not that I could wear it. A bit small for me." He raises a hand, conjuring 12 more identical clawed white gloves in the air. All the hands snap their fingers. Shadowy, smoky spirits manifest from the dark, all tentacles and teeth and glowing eyes. An entire militia of demons. "Nice to know that still works. Get us the flame." The spirits all begin to circle around the Beastknight, afraid to get close enough to enter the Keep.
"Seems it's in there. Library, perhaps?" He takes a deep inhale, closing his eyes, scrying through the darkness. "Yes. Yes, the library. Surrounded by all those fragile books. How unfortunate for everyone."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
The flower is silent, as it crawls forward around the knight, seeing them more as a roadblock than a threat.
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
The Knight glows a bright gold, slamming its tail into the ground, shattering the stones infront of the flower. "Stop."
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
The Wendigo, seeing this newcomer shrinks a bit behind the entrance way while Noctis shrieks in warning, smoke billowing from his mouth as the flaming heart in the wendigo's chest starts to beat faster.
The Beastknight raises his sword. "No....leave now...trespasser...."
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
The golden spirals burn in the smoke spirit's skull as it turns its antlered head. It raises its cane... and knocks on the wall of the Keep.
"Knock, knock, knock. May I come in, little friends? I mean you no harm... I'm a cook, just like you. I just have different techniques."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"...No..." It attempts to quite literally push the knight to the side as it continues towards the library, dead-set on its goal.
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
He chuckles. "And who's going to move me? This keep is for everyone, remember? The King himself decreed as much. Are you saying you don't believe that the King's judgment is as important as your own?"
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
*Brb*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
The ground shatters as he holds its ground. "NO!"
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
The Knight swings his blade, making the spirits back away. "I...protect...Keep...I...allow...who...in..and who out.."
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
The wendigo yelps and backs away a bit. "I'm not incharge or anything, so I have no authority...." He says nervously, not really sure what is even going on right now. Noctis places himself between his twin brother and the man, baring his shadowy fangs from his more wolf-like skull protectively. Noctis isn't certain what is going on either, but won't let his brother come to harm.
The crooked flower, growing increasingly frustrated, grabs at the knight's sword with its roots in an attempt to forcibly disarm them. As frail as the creature seems, it has a deceptive amount of strength.
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
His grip tightens as he kicks the flowers stem with surprising strength.
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
Helianth roots itself into the ground to resist being pushed, sliding about a foot away. Its grip remains on their sword, which it continually tries to tear away from its wielder.
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
The sword starts to slowly slice the flower as he yanks it back
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
As fragile as the monster looks, the blade cutting through its stem feels like attempting to saw through a tree with a sword. Helianth doesn't seem to notice, or if they do, they simply don't care. They continue to pull at the blade.
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
The blade slices through them, burning with holy fire.
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
The greater spirit tilts his head, the spirals tightening. "I'm being polite. I'll come in with or without your permission. It only matters where and how I enter."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.