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Message Dieter Wolfram
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Post by Dieter Wolfram on Dec 9, 2017 23:18:08 GMT -5
[attr="class","Im"]
[attr="class","really"] [attr="class","exhausted"]What good is a star that has lost its light?
[attr="class","rhythm"] ❝ I watch as they fade one by one
| The Ivalacian Dark Knight mutely maneuvered himself through the ever-undulating sea of bodies that had gathered in a circle near the center of Besaid Village. Periodically, his stormy eyes narrowed as his head craned to the left, his attention momentarily fixated on a duo of villagers as they’d whispered excitably to one another – unfazed by the dirty look they’d shot in his direction. Dieter didn’t fault them for their distrust, they knew that he was an outsider – not that he’d ever tried to deceive them. Over the past few days, his sparse interactions with the townfolk revolved around gathering intelligence about his hunts, confirming the intended target, and lastly receiving his payment. Regrettably, the Dark Knight cared naught for the budding rumors, if he’d pried just a bit he’d have known that a fledgling summoner had entered the Temple three days prior to pray to the Fayth.
What was the Fayth? Dieter still wasn’t entirely certain, but the Monks had lead him to the conclusion it was akin to a minor deity – one that granted great power to those it’d deemed worthy. The Dark Knight’s attention snapped towards the Temple as its’ massive stone doors slid a bit further open to allow a trio to pass through its’ thresholds. Of the three, Dieter concluded that one on the left was a warrior of some type based off the cutlass-styled blade that hung at his side. Meanwhile, the one on the right held a leather-bond tome in the crook of her left arm – a mage of some sort? Lastly, there was the one in the middle that gave of the vibes of a white mage. He’d remained silent as the White Mage brought one of their arms up to shield their eyes, attempting to block out some of the harsh tropical rays – they’d been a candle lit temple for the past three days.
They remained motionless, blinking once or twice to help themselves adjust and more importantly fight off the fatigue. Once they’d righted themselves, they’d began to nervously approach the platform at the base of the stairs. Upon closer inspection, Dieter noticed that the ground was smoothed out, separated from the uneven terrain by a circlet of weather-worn bricks. What was its’ purpose? Before he could dwell on it, he’d noticed that the warrior placed a reassuring hand on the mage’s shoulder, offering an encouraging grin before nodding their head. The mage’s demeanor changed once they’d entered the circle, their lips set in a scowl as their browns knitted together in concentration. The Dark Knight felt the drastic shift in the ambiance, a great power budding within the youth as they’d danced. Their rod arced outwards, carving intricate patterns into the air, each movement was accompanied by multi-colored bursts of light
Oddly enough, these rays dissipated just short of the crowd, a fact that made investigating them neigh impossible. It’d almost reminded him of the baleful aura that the Summoners of his world released as they’d evoked their contracts with their familiars. Once they’d stilled, their dance complete, a quarter of rays shot up into the heavens. Their purpose was unclear until a deafening screech rang out across the land. Dieter brought his hands to his ears, cupping them in an effort to drown out the ear-splintering howl. He’d noticed that the clouds parted as a giant avian beast descended from the heavens. In spite of its’ bestial appearance, he felt an inherent kindness radiating from the beast as it’d playfully nuzzled its’ conjurer with its’ beak. What was this mighty beast, where had it come from, why was it bound to someone so frail? Dieter had an abundance of questions, yet he didn’t bother to ask any of the surrounding villagers – it felt inappropriate given the circumstances.
Before he could break away from the crowd, he felt a hand close around his shoulder, halting his exit. It was one of the villagers, an elder at that. They’d smiled softly, before they’d extended an invitation to that evening’s festitivites.
“I don’t think it’s my place to intrude…”
She chuckled and shook her head, gesturing to another man in the crowd, pointing out that he too was an outsider – her actions drew the attention the person she’d gestured to.
(tagged)⏤ @morne
(notes)⏤ I hope you like this template! |
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Post by Deleted on Dec 20, 2017 11:06:23 GMT -5
The man approached, letting out a yawn as he did. Ever since he arrived, he'd been residing in the temple alongside the priests there, lending his services as a healer in exchange. He may have belonged to a different faith, but in Besaid, far from the harsh stranglehold of Yevon's Dogma, that mattered nothing in comparison to the good he was able to do. This very last night he had to assist a woman who'd just gone through a difficult childbirth. The baby boy had been born with the umbilical cord tied around his neck and so the event had drawn out for hours in order not to damage him. This alone had put a tremendous strain on the mother, who had suffered grave blood loss from several torn tissues. Normally, it would had been too much, but he had unwaveringly stayed by her side, channeling holy power to mend the ailing flesh and so, she now remained stable, slowly but surely recovering. Needless to say, the villagers had been very pleased with his efforts.
He gave the elder the traditional salute, bowing slightly as it was custom. As if his white, curly hair and unusual clothes weren't enough to make him stand out, he was also quite tall, with a strong physique that didn't really give the impression of a healer. Regardless, he smiled, looking at Dieter in the eye, "Hello, my name is Morne Caelis and its a pleasure to make your acquaintance", He had seen this man around before, it was hard not to take notice of his dainty form, with clear skin and blonde hair, so unlike the locals. Then again, the same applied to him. Really, both stuck out like a sore thumb.
"You could say I'm a pilgrim of sorts. I've been traveling far and wide all my life, but I'd never seen this... Place (damn, almost said world there) before. When I heard about the summoning arts kept in here I couldn't resist staying for a while though", he pointed at the feathered beast, "Pretty impressive, isn't it?, there's hardly anything more beautiful than strength and grace together side by side. If only I could command such power..."
"Ah, but you are a man of faith, I'm sure you could become a magnificent summoner if you tried", chimed in the woman, "Even our precious fledgling will take a long time before she can have the strength of heart you already possess". She turned to look at the summoner, "For now, she must travel to see the world and all it has to offer. She must because on her shoulders rests the promise of peace for all of Spira".
"Maybe then, we are not so different after all. But alas, our paths are meant to diverge. I build my own fate day by day and so, I must not loose sight of it so that I may not stray. If i did stay, I would leave far too many debts unpaid to ever attain peace of mind", he crossed his fingers instinctively, "Maybe the day will come when I can go back here, if only to enjoy the finer pleasures of life. I haven't gotten a summer vacation in eons, you know?".
His tone was light, but he doubted such a day would ever come. All of his summer vacations had come and gone, never to return.
"But enough about me", he turned towards the blonde, "I bet our friend has far more interesting stories to tell us, as a hunter he must have seen things we can't even fathom, unexplored realms and beasts that would freeze a man's blood with terror... Which makes me wonder... What could someone like you possibly be seeking here in such a quaint town?".
Notes: I do NOT like the template. BURN IT.
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@dieter
Message Dieter Wolfram
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Dark Knight
Archaedaemons
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Post by Dieter Wolfram on Dec 22, 2017 3:57:40 GMT -5
[attr="class","Im"]
[attr="class","really"] [attr="class","exhausted"]What good is a star that has lost its light?
[attr="class","rhythm"] ❝ I watch as they fade one by one
| The Archdaemon’s stormy eyes settled upon Morne’s silhouette, silently studying his interaction with the village elder – he’d yet to learn about the indigenous people’s customs. Why bother? He didn’t intend to stay on Besaid Isle much longer, if he’d recalled correctly there was a ship chartered to head to the Kilika Isle. He’d heard rumors of a persistent fiend blocking the path of travelers, its’ thorny whip like appendages resulting in more than a handful of injured men and women. He was torn from his thoughts by the sound of Morne’s regal voice, its’ tone strikingly similar to the Knighthood of Ivalice. The corner of Dieter’s lips visibly twitched before they’d curled upwards into a Cheshire grin.
“I am Dieter, Dieter Wolfram of the Helios’ Ambition Clan.” He replied softly, nodding his head in feigned interest as Morne exclaimed that he was a traveler of sorts – wasn’t everyone in some manner of speaking? Morne’s brief pause didn’t escape Dieter’s attention but it wasn’t significant enough to warrant unwelcomed probing – everyone kept a handful of secrets. When the hoary-haired traveler gestured back towards the Aeon, Dieter studied the beast once more. It bore mild resemblance to the Avian Archdaemon of the Empyreal Plain, the stark difference was that it didn’t radiate a malicious aura – no, if anything its’ presence was reassuring. Why did I look like in my true form? , Dieter questioned inwardly, uncertain because it had been centuries since he’d assumed such a form.
“Such power, normally comes with a heavy price.” Dieter retorted under his breathe, his eye settling on the back of his hand – the light burgundy glyph on it pulsated in synchronization with his own heartbeat. He’d smiled softly to himself as he tentatively ran his finger tip along the glyph, fondly recalling the day he’d sworn his Oath – the day he’d discovered what it meant to have a purpose. He was snapped out of his momentary stupor by the Elderly woman’s voice as she’d praised Morne, admiring his strength of heart. When she compared the two, Dieter’s stormy eyes settled upon the summoner once again, finally making note of how young she was – she’d looked to be around his apparent age. Those that stood behind her were perhaps five or six years older, the eldest maybe ten at the most – they were still mere children in his eyes. What did that woman mean when she’d claimed that the fledgling summoner carried the burden of a promise of peace for Spira? Before he could probe further, Morne had already interjected upon the way he’d lived his life.
I am searching for someone important…. I require funds and information to find them.”
Dieter replied curtly, his tone suggesting that it was a topic that he didn’t wish to suggest. It didn’t take him to realize that his brisk tone caused their casual conversation to lapse into an awkward silence.
“What do you mean a promise of peace?”
Dieter probed, uncertain if the Elderly woman would answer the question. He hadn’t failed to notice some of the wary looks that a few of the fellow elder’s shot in his direction. (tagged)⏤ @morne
(notes)⏤ I hope you like this template! |
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Post by Deleted on Dec 23, 2017 13:35:37 GMT -5
Hmmm, it seemed he was dealing with a quiet one. This boy, Dieter's responses, they were shirt cutting and to the point. He, on the other hand, was quite the social butterfly. Regardless, far from taken aback, Morne was simply amused, perhaps because he had been like that once upon a time.
He could still remember it, when he, the illegitimate child of Daybreak Town's Archbishop, was handed over to the unions as a lad in his early teens to be trained in the ways of the keyblade. It was a rough period of his life, but he didn't resent his father for it. It was more than a bastard like him could possibly ask for. What this guy needed was some friends, someone that could crack his shell. That was what had worked out for him anyways.
"So it is. There are many like you, seekers. They go around searching for all sort of things. Sometimes its someone as in your case, others its something. There are even those that pursue an ideal", he smiled warmly, "In the end, what differentiates us is the conviction we foster, the fervor that pushes us see it through, to arise again and again to the bitter end, no matter how harsh the trials".
"I, too, am a seeker, and what I seek is the Promised Land", he stretched his hand, grasping towards the sky longingly. The sunlight filtered through his fingers, illuminating his face "... Kingdom Hearts".
It didn't matter if he said it aloud. No one in this village would know what he was talking about. Even Dieter, an obvious outsider from another world, probably wouldn't know.
And, well, Morne didn't really care if he actually did.
Next, the bounty hunter asked about the 'promise of peace', oh boy. Morne had already heard, and so, he knew it wasn't his place to answer. Instead the elderly woman, having been listening intently this whole time stepped forth.
"You see, my dear, although Spira holds a great beauty, it and its people are cursed. Long ago we relied on machina to survive and so we grew weak and sinful. And so, a great scourge was born to punish us and purge the world from our wicked contraptions... Its name is Sin and destruction follows wherever it appears. It has taken far too many lives to be counted and we can do nothing about it. No sword or spell can scratch it, even the most powerful machina of our ancestors all failed", the woman smiled still, but it was a sad, tired smile.
"We of Besaid are lucky. Being a small village in the outer reaches, farthest from the holy land of Zanarkand, we barely ever come under the threat of Sin...", she made a long pause and for a moment she seemed distant, as if staring through Dieter, "... although I did see Sin once. When I was but a little girl".
"... Pray you never come to face Sin, it can bring you nothing but horror". A tinge of pure dread could be seen in the woman's eyes.
"... Either way, that's why the summoners must go on pilgrimage through the temples of Spira, so that they may gain power from communing with the fayth, so that they may one day reach Zanarkand, summon their Final Aeon and destroy Sin. If they do, the Calm will come and we won't have to live in fear".
Morne knew that wasn't the whole story, but he wouldn't force this poor soul to disclose anything she didn't want to. But perhaps...
"Say Dieter, perhaps you'd like to visit the temple?, It would be a great way to kill time before the evening festivities begin. It's quite the impressive sight, I assure you."
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@dieter
Message Dieter Wolfram
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Dark Knight
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Post by Dieter Wolfram on Dec 24, 2017 18:52:14 GMT -5
[attr="class","Im"]
[attr="class","really"] [attr="class","exhausted"]What good is a star that has lost its light?
[attr="class","rhythm"] ❝ I watch as they fade one by one
| The corner of Dieter’s lips twitched, threatening to dispel his mirthful grin as they’d descended downwards a fraction of an inch – an indication of unvoiced displeasure and masked irritation. Morne’s extensive explanation of what fueled mankind’s ambitions, it only served to reinforce what he’d known for centuries. Those from the Empyreal Pain were no different, they’d subjected themselves to a period of near unending bloodshed. They’d resorted to slaughtering one another, constantly vying to secure themselves a seat of power. Why?, Lady Altima’s absence caused an imbalance – one that only grew as Hasmal dedicated his efforts to resurrecting their fallen Messiah. Dieter was a rarity, he’d never fought to secure his position in their hierarchy, no, he’d fought in order to simply survive. Dieter’s stormy eyes glazed over, the centuries pasted him by in an instance as he’d recalled the day he’d met Belias - his beloved savior.
He’d stood in the midst of an impromptu battlefield, surrounded by the lifeless bodies of his enemies. Off in the distance, there stood a lone man surrounded by countless daemon, each one chuckled haughtily to themselves as they’d prepared to ambush their prey. Before they could even reach him, they were consumed by a sable flame, their pained screams resonating across the war-torn plateau. Dieter watched in awe as countless lives were snuffed out, reduced to nothing more than ash and dust. For the firs time in his life, Dieter plunged his blade into the ground and took a knee – he understood that even if a thousand years passed, he’d pale in comparison to this man. Dieter returned the present, blinking away the remnants of his distant past. His head craned to the side, clearly uncertain what Morne meant when he said “ Kingdom Hearts.”
“Never heard of it.”
Dieter responded promptly, inwardly praying that Morne didn’t feel the need to babble on about this “Kingdom Hearts’” lore and legend. Dieter’s right brow arched upwards, surprise evident on his face as the Elder exclaimed that Spira was cursed. She’d cited their dependence on something called “Machina”, blatantly admitting that it’d made them weak and sinful – divine retribution was delivered in the form of a monstrosity. His interest only grew as she’d described its’ might, disheartening admitting that neither the blade or magick caused it harm, nor did their most powerful machinery. This begged the question, how could this “fledgling” summoner hope to defeat it and bring them peace? What was this Final Aeon? The elder’s sorrowful explanation left him with far more questions than it had answered.
“This Sin? Does he manipulate flames as if they were an extension of his body?
Dieter questioned, unperturbed by the look of dread in the Elder’s eyes. Before she could answer his inquiry, Morne interjected about visiting the Temple before the evenings festivities? What festivities? He’d sighed audibly and reluctantly nodded his head.
“I suppose, lately the Fiends seem to hide when I near…” (tagged)⏤ @morne
(notes)⏤ I hope you like this template! |
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Post by Deleted on Dec 26, 2017 18:12:03 GMT -5
"No, of course not".
It was always funny how despite how the lives of men were conditioned by the heart, bound by its irresistible pull, they never came to realize this. What little was known about it had died alongside his age, the unions and his companions. Even he himself was but a ghost of a past long gone, living on borrowed time. When the time came to exit the stage and fade into the black, it would all fall into obscurity. With him, the lessons of the past would be forgotten and the wielders of today would be left to commit the same mistakes that once led to their downfall.
"..."
He closed his eyes. If only he could reach into the hearts of men everywhere. But no, judging by his apparent distaste, he couldn't even convince this young man. If he was incapable of that much, the rest was but a fool's phony dream. That was why he still had to walk the long, miserable path of destruction and hope his steel would reach where his words could not.
"... Let it be known", he said, his tone dry and grim, "That when the threat to mankind is laid down, I shall be there to cut it down one last time". It wasn't clear wether he was addressing Dieter or himself, "Even if I am to be forever reviled for it".
Next, Dieter asked about the nature of Sin's powers and if they were based on fire. Was this related to the one he was searching for?, whatever the case, he didn't know the exact deta-
"No...", the woman's hands shook lightly as she mustered the strength to answer, "... it is gravity. More than you could possibly imagine".
As she spoke, she turned and left. Morne understood. She had enough.
"...Anyways, we should get going".
The temple was shrouded of profound stillness. In the main hall, four monolithic statues stood, clad in rich garbs of stone. Their wizened faces emanated a tranquility in which the faithful of the village basked, presenting their offerings to them under the approving gaze of the priest of Yu Yevon. Morne did not share their beliefs, but just taking in the potent smell of incense served to clear his mind. "I don't know what your stand in religion is", he said, "but just being here sure is nice".
He turned to face Dieter, "This is where the fayth resides, the means through which Spira's unique summoning art is made possible", he pointed at a door behind them, going into the depths of the temple. "The fayth itself is materialized from the crystallization of one or several powerful souls, that shed their mortal coil so to forever serve as aeons for the summoners to establish pacts with".
"The fayth can be fickle at times, and gaining their favor is no easy task. However they do turn into magnificent allies in battle. The one you saw however is comparatively weak. If summoners are able to face Sin, its because some Aeons can command extraordinary power. And there is no Aeon as powerful as a summoner's Final Aeon..."
He walked over to one of the statues, laying his hand on its cool surface, "... However, you were right about one thing. It IS a power that comes at a rice". Opening his arms, he directed his companion's attention to the statues around them, "Look around you, these are the high summoners of Spira, those that managed to survive against all odds and destroy Sin", he walked back up to him "I trust you notice. They are four. That makes it four times the beast has been slain across the centuries. Sometimes its weaker and others, godlike. But no matter what, it always comes back", he lowered his tone for what came next, "Furthermore... The Final Aeon is a summoner's last. The invocation drained the life of every of these men and it'll do the same to that girl outside, should she succeed. Then a statue will be built and the cycle will begin anew. Such is the fate of the summoners".
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@dieter
Message Dieter Wolfram
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Post by Dieter Wolfram on Dec 27, 2017 8:01:05 GMT -5
[attr="class","Im"]
[attr="class","really"] [attr="class","exhausted"]What good is a star that has lost its light?
[attr="class","rhythm"] ❝ I watch as they fade one by one
| The Archdaemon made note of Morne’s dejected response, certain whatever this, Kingdom Hearts , was that it held measurable value to the man. Dieter silently observed Morne as his eyes fluttered shut for a period of time, most of which he’d spent trying to decipher his newfound companion’s solemn expression. Morne’s cryptic, righteous monologue only served to unnerve him further, its’ ambiguous nature made it hard to tell if he was having a memory relapse or addressing him. What happened in this man’s past? Is he just like the Church’s Templars?, these were two of the most pressing questions that weighted on his mind. Before he could dwell on it any further, the Elder woman had begun to respond to his question. His expression softened, one could see that he’d regretted pressing the issue as he’d watched her tremble.
Before he could reach out to offer a reassuring hand on her shoulder, she’d already turned her back to them and begun to make her way into the crowd of people congratulating the summoner. He’d acknowledged Morne’s suggestion with a curt nod of his head, trailing along behind him as they’d headed towards the temple. Truthfully, he’d avoided stepping foot within this proclaimed “holy place”, rightfully believing that it wasn’t meant for his kind – it was what he’d always been taught, told and learned from the Ivalican Church’s published documents’. His fingers interlocked with one another, nervously picking at the edges of his nails as immersed himself in the ambience.
“My people’s religion doesn’t take kindly to those like myself.”
Dieter responded, vaguely answering Morne’s question without giving him any further necessary insight. When Morne turned to face him, he’d find that Dieter’s attention was fixated on one of the grand statues. When Morne gestured to the Cloister of Trial’s entrance, exclaiming that is where the Fayth resided. It was almost as if the man knew his next question, what was a Fayth? His eye brow arched upwards at Morne’s exclaimination, it sounded eerily similar to the crystals that were embedded into his concealed necklace – his mother and father had willingly sacrificed themselves to provide him with an ounce of hope. Not to mention, he’d seen encountered similar crystals, although they were the compilation of the experience that his foes had acquired throughout their lifetime.
“….”
Morne went on to exclaim the fickle nature of the Fayth, how they’d only offered their power to those they’d deemed worthy. His eyes widened a bit in surprise, shocked to learn that the Aeon the summoner had conjured forth was considered to be weak – he’d gauged that it’d possessed formidable power. His eyes followed Morne as he’d made his way over to the statues that lined the wall. He made a grand gesture with his arms, exclaiming that those same four men had managed to fell the mighty beast known as Sin. Wait? If they’d felled the mighty beast why had it returned?
“… They are selfless individuals… I see why they are regarded so highly.”
Dieter admitted, uncertain what else to say as he’d made his way closer to Morne. He’d studied each of the statues a bit closer. If Morne were privy to his inner thoughts, he’d know that Dieter understood that great power could be obtained if one was willingly to sacrifice – his very life force was the fuel for some of his more powerful attacks. At the mere mention of that, one could feel the Darkness that he’d kept harbored within himself stirring – it was hungry yet again. Before it could fully awaken, Dieter lulled it back into its’ slumber with a single though.
(tagged)⏤ @morne
(notes)⏤ N/A
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Post by Deleted on Jan 6, 2018 20:56:33 GMT -5
"Oh, is that so?", Morne smirked wrily, "I guess I can sympathize with that". As an illegitimate child, from a man of he church no less, Morne's mere existence had been, well, an uncomfortable fact for much more people than just his father. A fact ignored easily enough by just turning your head and pretending he wasn't there. But although he didn't face any persecution per se, that alone had been enough to mark him an outcast in his younger years.
Not that he cared that much anyways. In retrospect the lack of contact made him become a solitary man even to this day, but he couldn't say he really minded that. As far as he was concerned, he had all that he needed, unbound from any ties to the world around him. In a way, that made the world his playground to do as he saw fit. He smiled to himself, he'd been such a simpleminded fool back then.
... His poor mother, on the other hand. The contempt Morne simply ignored had weighed greatly on her. To see her suffer, now that had angered him, but instead of demanding retribution, Morne had simply tried to shoulder it all day after day. Eventually he attained fame and glory and so, scorn quickly turned to praise. Morne had forgiven because it was on his nature to do so... But he could hardly forget at all. "... In some shape or form, anyways".
"Such things aren't rare. I hear even here in Spira there exists a race of heretics somewhere that still use machines even against the teachings of Yevon's dogma", he added, "To cleanse the sins we cannot face, we humans tirelessly continue to single out scapegoats even amongst our midst, whatever it takes to pretend the blood isn't in our hands. To this I say: truth shines through. No matter how deep we burry it, it is there and it beckons".
"In the end, the only thing we can do to right the wronged is listen for its call and let our actions be those of justice. Otherwise we too shall be trapped in their vicious circle".
Next, Dieter remarked on the summoners, "To these people, a summoner is a living saint, a martyr-to-be. If this world prospers, it is because of their sacrifice. In a way, they are this world's scapegoats. Even if they do wish to rid the world of Sin from the bottom of their hearts, they are still raised for slaughter. Do look again at these statues if you disagree. There are four. Four victories throughout whole centuries. Now I ask of you, what of the summoners that did not get a statue?".
He chuckled, "Not that there aren't people who wouldn't still do it dogma or not... But there is a subtle difference in choosing something for yourself rather than being guided to it".
"Anyways, the celebration should be about to begin. We should get on our way".
By the time they exited, the sun was going down and a sound melded of laughter and music could be heard. On the plaza the Aeon Valefor remained still, encircled by the children of the village, who took turns to climb atop. It was amazing how little the sacred beast seemed to mind such horseplay.
Right away they were called to join in and Morne certainly didn't think it twice, grabbing himself a plate full of roasted meat and proceeded to enthusiastically gorge on it in a manner he might as well have been a starving raptor as well as taking large swings of whatever kind of liquor the locals produced with each bite. Rather uncouth for the sort of man he appeared to be.
Soon enough papa alcohol had worked its magic and the men started telling their best stories of valor, might and prowess. The cutlass-wielding warrior that had been with the summoner before stood up, face bright red stood up, "Nah, that's all child's play" his grin was as wide as it gets, "Want a good story?, just wait 'till we crush that stupid whale Sin!, Now, that's gonna be one for the ages!", He wiped out his di weapon, showing it over the fire, "As soon as I get my hands on it, I'm gouging its eyes out with this beauty... And maybe I'll take a big cut of meat too, see what that bastard tastes over the campfire, Ha!".
People laughed, Morne laughed along and made sure to drink to that. He had to admit, these people were a fun bunch.
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Post by Dieter Wolfram on Jan 9, 2018 6:20:36 GMT -5
[attr="class","Im"]
[attr="class","really"] [attr="class","exhausted"]What good is a star that has lost its light?
[attr="class","rhythm"] ❝ I watch as they fade one by one
| What kind of lives had these men truly lived? The Grand Summoners of Spira, those whom bore the weight of Spira’s sins upon their shoulders as they’d underwent a pilgrimage in hopes of bringing momentary salvation to others? Dieter wondered to himself, his lackluster jade eyes lingered upon the faces of each of the prestigious men before him. Did this truly differ from how the Scions had infiltrated the Church of Glabados, corrupts its’ core in order to wage a war? Why would they commit such atrocities, the answer was simple, it was to generate enough bloodshed to resurrected their fallen Messiah, Lady Altima. Truthfully, Dieter hadn’t aided much in their conquest, opting instead to investigate countless rumors of powerful artifacts at Lord Belias’ whim. However, what little he knew of their Messiah stemmed from various ancient scripture, forgotten lore and lastly other Archdaemon’s praise.
Dieter’s hands drifted upwards from his sides, his alabaster fingers interlocking with one another as he’d let his eyes drift shut and his head dip forward – offering a prayer for these departed souls. Oh, how the Church of Glabdos’ mindless legions were rolling within their shallow graves, their spirits aghast at the fact an Archdaemon was capable of such actions. Dieter’s head lifted and craned in Morne’s direction as the hoary-haired man elaborated upon the current state of Spira’s affairs. He’d exclaimed that there existed a group of so-called Heretics that continued to defy Yevon’s teachings, utilizing the same ancient machinery that brought Sin’s wraith down upon them. The Archdaemon harbored doubts, unable to believe it was quite so simple – the Church of Glabados itself had already been corrupt in one manner or another. Dieter’s eyes drifted downwards, settling upon his own hands as Morne mentioned blood.
How many times had he’d stained them with the blood of his adversaries, how many lives had he brought to an abrupt end? He’d seldom bothered to spare it a second though, those whom he’d fell had made their choice – they’d drawn their blade with intent of cutting him down. He’d wholeheartedly believed that few wouldn’t hesitate to kill in order to protect the lives of those they’d loved – he’d already done so in order to protect Cassialyn and preserve her freedom. Dieter nodded his head in agreement once Morne’s spheal came to an end and he’d suggested they join the others for festivities. Though he had remained silent, it was clear from the perplexed look upon his face, Morne had given him much to think about. By the time they’d left the temple, the Sun was setting upon the horizon, it’d painted the skyline a vibrant mixture of oranges, reds, yellows and even shades of pink – it’d looked as if the sea itself was ablaze.
The aeon, Valefor, had yet to depart the circle it’d been conjured into. Surprisingly, it’d remained nearly perfectly still as the children climbed its pack. At times, it’d almost appeared to be laughing at their naivety. Before he could drift closer to observe, Morne and himself were being called in to join the merriment. He’d gave a reluctant sigh as he’d followed Morne’s example, filling a plate with a hefty sum of meat – far more than one could have imagined him capable of devouring. He ignored some of their concerned looks as he’d began to pick at the meat. He chuckled as Morne began to throw back the various alcohols prepared by the locals without caution – he was going to feel that in the morning. Dieter leant in closer to the fire, entranced by the countless fables told the men of Besaid. He’d felt as if he’d learned much of this world’s creatures, they’d described things such as Elementals, grand birds, things of nightmares.
It was only after Summoner’s Guardian stood up, his face as red as a beat. He’d proudly proclaimed that they’d defeat Sin, that he’d carve out a chunk of its’ meat and roast it over the fire. Dieter chuckled to himself before he’d rose to his feet, discarding his now emptied plate as he’d stepped towards the center of the circle. With a well-practiced motion, Dieter’s hand drifted behind his back and brandished the oddly large sword with ease. He’d gave it a tentative swing before he’d let it carve deep into the ground, his hands resting upon its hilt – the size of which made his hands appear diminutive.
“Ye wouldn’t believe what I encountered once upon my travels, I was searching for a relic for mi’lord. I’d heard rumors that it was within the depths of a with all manner of beast… Goblins, Bombs, Undead..”
Dieter stated with a flourish of his arms, excitably naming off the fiends that he’d encountered.
“At the depth, I encountered old machines used to mine, except something about them had been damaged, they’d tried to attack me… It’s harder to feel a beast that doesn’t bleed nor feel pain trust me on that…"
Dieter said with an audible sigh as he’d rubbed the back of his head, recalling how he’d spent what had felt like an eternity whittling down the unearthly creatures.
“Sadly, when I reached the depth of the mine, the relic I was searching for was nowhere to be found…”
His voiced trailed off, his tone dejected as he’d recalled what happened next. This was when he’d returned to Lord Belias’ Castle to find it uninhabited – its’ depths were ravaged by signs of battle. He’d solemnly stared off into space for a moment or two, not realizing that his awkward pause had garnished a few concerned looks from the crowd.
(tagged)⏤ @morne (notes)⏤ N/A
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Post by Deleted on Jan 18, 2018 13:14:56 GMT -5
"Ah, relic hunting", Morne's voice cut through the silence, providing a much needed assist, "Such a thrilling occupation. Say, what does your expert eye say about this trinket then?", he produced a sphere of glass, with an arrow suspended within. It seemed to be some kind of compass, "people used this to detect large gatherings of something called Lux".
"Ages ago, collecting it was considered very important, oh yes. They even went to war over it", he added, staring intently into the orb, "Five armies were created with the purpose of protecting the lux, and albeit they cooperated to this end at the start, in that time of rising darkness the seeds of distrust and arrogance were soon planted in their hearts. The unions, as they were called, started suspecting corruption among their fold, declaring one another to be unfit to hold the lux".
"In the end, conflict proved unavoidable and thousands of warriors of light for the ownership of the greatest source of lux of them all, the Promised Land of Kingdom Hearts", downing whatever was left of his drink, Morne raised his voice for dramatic effect, "And them BAM!! the world, our world was shred to pieces that became the stars in the sky, swept away in the tide of darkness that ensued shortly thereafter".
"But the world survived even in this state. I don't understand how, but it did. Some say it was due to to light held within the innocent hearts of the children, and maybe this isn't far off, but in truth, we'll never know for sure".
He then directed his attention to the warrior Guardian "You know, I respect your enthusiasm, I really do. But rage clouds the senses and leads us astray. Don't waver and I promise you I'll bring steak sauce for the celebratory barbecue".
The crowd laughed in approval, such were the perks of being THIS funny.
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Post by Dieter Wolfram on Jan 19, 2018 1:04:58 GMT -5
[attr="class","Im"]
[attr="class","really"] [attr="class","exhausted"]What good is a star that has lost its light?
[attr="class","rhythm"] ❝ I watch as they fade one by one
| Morne’s interjection was welcomed, it’d effectively provided an end to the uncomfortable silence that had befallen those surrounding the roaring flames. Dieter seized the presented opportunity, wrenching his blade free from its’ earthen sheath and holstering it within its’ sling with one fluid motion. A few glanced back in his direction, immediately turning their attention back to Morne as he’d exclaimed that such a profession was exciting – not to mention incredibly dangerous. Dieter’s face visibly blanched when Morne extracted a relic of his own, an unblemished sphere of glass that housed a suspended arrow within. If he didn’t know any better, Dieter would of sworn it was a compass of some sort – a fact that Morne confirmed only seconds later. However, it begged the question, what was this Lux, Morne had just mentioned? Was it perhaps a resource of his native world? Dieter took a few hesitant steps closer to the inebriated Morne, diligently studying the glass sphere. He’d reluctantly shook his head at Morne, taking a moment to clear his throat.
“Sadly, I don’t know nearly as much about appraisal as I do hunting… What is Lux?”
Morne’s response confirmed Dieter’s initial thoughts, Lux, was indeed a source of sorts. Morne claimed that long ago, its’ collection was an urgent manner, one that even ignited a war between five separate armies. It wasn’t unlike the Lucavi, they’d corrupted Ivalice’s Church in order to spread seeds of doubt, distrust. Oh, when it came to harvesting, they’d reaped their crops a plenty – battlefields ridden with bloodied corpses. Nor was it different from the plight of the Archdaemon, they’d fought a near endless war in an attempt to prove themselves worthy to the Scion – all in hopes of being selected as a Vassal. Why did it matter so much to them? It meant that they could traverse beyond the divide of the Empyreal Plain, they could experience true freedom.
Such thoughts were brushed aside as Morne’s story darkened, recalling how they’d turned against one another as time went on. However, Morne described a war of vast proportions, thousands of warriors vying for their holy land, The Kingdom Hearts. Hadn’t Morne mentioned that once earlier? Before, Dieter could interject and inquire further about that, Morne took a swig of whatever was in his cup and proceeded onwards. Apparently, the war had turn his planet asunder, claiming that it’d had become the innumerable stars that dotted the skies – more importantly it survived such trauma. By this point, the Dark Knight had begun to grow skeptical, uncertain if Morne’s story was the truth or a drunken fantasy.
Finally, Morne turned to face the Guardain, tacking on a final joke of his own. One that managed to prompt a chuckle from Dieter whom had only now just retaken his seat.
“Morne, what is the Kingdom Hearts? You mentioned it before earlier…” Dieter inquired, aptly leaning forward to portray his interest in the matter.
(tagged)⏤ @morne (notes)⏤ N/A |
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Post by Deleted on Jan 27, 2018 15:26:25 GMT -5
"That's an excellent question, you know", he answered, as he got a very generous refill, "Short version, its an amalgamation of hearts. See, it is possible to mingle with the natural course of life and death by removing someone's heart from its mortal coil", he said "Not the fisical heart mind you (that would be way too gory), it's more akin to your soul's core, the seed that sprouts that which we are".
"If you loose your heart, your body disappears, however the heart contains the essence of the being and lives on. In a way, its not truly death. Instead, the released heart seeks others, seeking deliverance".
"Oh, so its a bit like the Farplane", intervened one of the listeners, "Where you can go visit the spirits of the dead".
"Well, maybe so, but in all honestly, we don't know exactly what it is or even what it does, that's what the long answer could be summarized to. Very few have ever seen it and we don't even have any proof that anybody has ever been in communion with it", He then lowered his voice as if telling his audience a secret "... But between you and I... I have seen it... Would you like to?, here, come closer..."
He held out his hands, in which a fickle will-o-wisp formed between them, glowing softly... Then in a second, it shot up into the air, raining golden dust over them all!, It rose and then KABOOOM!!, The area above them lit up with a beautiful display of light magic... But that wasn't all, as the golden dust around them soon conjured a bewitching illusion, the image of a blue heart-shaped moon that pulsated with unfathomable power, "Some say that Kingdom Hearts holds the power to reshape the world from scratch. I myself am skeptical, but I can't blame them for it", said Morne as the crowd cheered in awe, "These parlour tricks can't hold a candle to how it felt to stand in its overwhelming presence, even from afar".
His tone however darkened again as he went on, "... But I shudder at the thought that someone cruel and corrupt would be able to do with its immense power. This very fear was what lead to the clash of the unions and I fear it won't be the only conflict over it. If our zealousness clouds our sight, we'll surely invite the darkness in once more".
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Post by Dieter Wolfram on Jan 28, 2018 19:53:03 GMT -5
[attr="class","Im"]
[attr="class","really"] [attr="class","exhausted"]What good is a star that has lost its light?
[attr="class","rhythm"] ❝ I watch as they fade one by one
| Why do “Holy” men indulge alcohol so heavily? He has drunk more than an Ivalican Lord after a conquest. Dieter mused to internally, the corner of his lips twitched as he’d suppressed the urge to smirk. Morne described the “Kingdom Heart” as an amass of individuals’ hearts. His face blanched, disgust momentarily visible upon his features as he’d envisioned a Necromancer’s wildest fantasy. Such a notion was dismissed entirely as Morne mentioned that it was possible to remove the hearts’ essence or their soul for a lack of better terms. Dark Knights harvest such manifestations’ in order to forge our path and consecrate our oath Albeit, when they did so, they’d risked losing their humanity. Yes, they understood that absorbing the crystalized soul of the fallen, it’d came with inherent risks – the effects of which were only seen if they’d lost their battle of wills.
Dieter nodded his head, electing to keep such knowledge to himself for the time being. What Morne described as one lost their heart, it’d sounded vaguely similar to how Ghouls, Wraiths and other manners of undead hordes were reborn – their spirits didn’t seek deliverance though. No, these spirits were benevolent, their actions fueled by corrupted desires and lingering resentment. Before he could dwell on the matter, one of the villagers interjected, exclaiming about how the “Kingdom Heart” bore similarities to their own “Farplane”. What a peculiar place, why do the deceased’s spirits gather there .
His brow arched upwards, skepticism evident as MOrne exclaimed that they’d yet to understand its’ purpose, citing that few had ever seen it nor did they possess proof. Just another fruitless rumor. However, Morne in a hushed whisper claimed to have encountered it. A handful of the villagers inched closer, entranced by Morne’s claim. Quite, the silver tongue on this one , he thought with an audible chuckle, one that lapsed into silence as Morne conjured a will-o-wisp. The creature remained still, its’ inviting glow lasted for but a split second before it’d rocketed towards the heavens. When it’d exploded, a shower of golden dust rained down upon them. Beyond that though, a singular blue-heart shaped moons.
How peculiar! Dieter thought as Morne voiced his doubts, exclaiming the concern he’d felt if it should fall into the wrong hands. That was often enough the case, relics and artifacts of great power possessed no will of their own. No, they were subjected to the will and desires of those whom wielded their might. Dieter’s hand drifted towards his face, taking the effort to cover his mouth when he’d yawned.
“ While your story is enticing, I am going to turn in for the night.”
Dieter stated with a curt wave as he’d risen from his seat and made his way towards the outskirts of the village. Without so much a moment of hesitation, he’d sat upon the ground and angled his blade so he could rest his head upon its’ rusted flat surface. His eyes fluttering shut as he’d surrendered himself to the thrall of slumber.
(tagged)⏤ @morne (notes)⏤ N/A |
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Post by Deleted on Feb 25, 2018 8:03:12 GMT -5
And so, the party dwindled bit by bit as it reached the wee hours of morning and the villagers went back to their homes and families. Tomorrow was the day it all begun and a long, arduous journey begun for the summoner. One way or another, this was the last time she'd see any of her compatriots, but she carried with her all their hopes of piece, of a safe world where their children could grow, free from the long shadow of death.
And in her humble hut, in the comfort of her bedsheets and her lover's arms, she felt grateful that her last memories of this place were so pleasant. She knew that if she ever faltered, she'd find strength in them, she would have to renounce to all these things, all part of her life, but in the giving up, they could never be taken away from her.
She clutched the chest of the man she loved tight, this boisterous oaf that nevertheless was so charming to her and gently drifted to sleep.
"At least, I know you'll stay with me..."
In the temple, Morne contemplated the day past before the statues of the martyr high summoners as he wondered if it all truly came down to this unending cycle of sacrifices. These people deserved better, specially the valiant summoners. If only their burden could be lessened...
But alas, he had his own promise of peace and along it, the countless dreams of the wielders, broken and scattered like the countless stars over Besaid that night. They also deserved better. He could never fail them.
He sighed in defeat, if only he could hold all the weight of the world between his hands and relieve this pain... But he was just one man. The only thing he could do was be thankful for the chances to make a difference he was given and not let them go to waste.
And so, dawn came and with it, the townspeople gathered at the town square, giving the summoner their final goodbyes one by one. Morne observed the scene from the temple entrance, "Ah, I see you are up", the elderly priest came from behind him, "Won't you join us, traveler?" He said, gently smiling. "Oh, I'd hate to intrude though. It IS quite the special moment after all".
"Well, aren't you quite the thoughtful young man?, Alright then, help yourself to some breakfast while I'm out if you want to", and with that, he made his way to the town square as well.
Morne couldn't help but to notice the old woman from yesterday, tearing up as he hugged the summoner as tight as her feeble arms would allow.
"Come on grandma, its not like it's the end of the world. I'm not even your only granddaughter, you know?".
"I know dear, but I'll miss you so much still..."
He smiled, "May the light be with them", and so he went inside. He still had his patient to check up on after all.
It was two hours before they heard the alarm coming from the port, half an hour more until a messenger arrived running as fast as he humanely could, but there wasn't much of a need. It could have only meant one thing.
Sin spawn.
Morne came out of the temple, frantically trying to push through a crowd that rushed to the temple, to pray for safety. Outside, the men were readying the village's defenses. The gates closed, but would they hold?, the only real hope of survival was to stop whatever was out there before it ever reached Besaid.
There was no time to loose.
Without skipping a beat, he ran through the village jumping onto a roof and from there over the barricade. Maybe, just maybe the hunter from yesterday could help. Unless he had ran. But even if he did, that didn't change what he had to do.
He was light on his feet, soon reaching the top of a slope overlooking the coast. A piercing cry cut through the air, it was Valefor, circling above a twisted creature in the shape of an octopus that had taken hold of the ship; it weaved between its tentacles, lashing at them with each swoop. The beach was crawling with monstrosities, emerging from the crashing waves. It was like an endless swarm of ants, soulless reapers with no mercy and a bottomless hunger.
There was no question about it. They would wipe out all life on the island. Besaid and all of its people were doomed. Not even under the overwhelming might of Sin, that would have snuffed them out in an instant, before they could even realize what was happening, but by these abominations, one by one, with terror in their hearts growing every second of it while they struggled against a rising tide that could not be stopped.
"... Unless I make my stand".
But was it what he should do?, If he wished so, he could be out of there in a second, before any of the mayhem reached him. No one would blame him. At the end of the day, this was Spira's natural order, and even if he did defy it, there was no guarantee that he would make it, there wasn't even a guarantee he'd manage to save anyone. He was confident in his power, but that was just the nature of combat, no matter how strong you were, there were no assurances, no safety nets. However he looked at it, he was better off standing aside.
And yet, he wasn't running.
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Post by Dieter Wolfram on Feb 25, 2018 9:02:44 GMT -5
[attr="class","Im"]
[attr="class","really"] [attr="class","exhausted"]What good is a star that has lost its light?
[attr="class","rhythm"] ❝ I watch as they fade one by one
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Prior to dawn, the Dark Knight’s verdant eyes fluttered open as he was roused from his slumber by his bodies’ internalized clock – it was time to his routine sweep. A muffled yawn slipped from between his lips as he’d gradually rose to his feet, ignoring the protest of his stiffened joints. However, when he rose a simple cloth blanket slid from his shoulders, most likely one of the villagers had draped it around him at some point in the night. Without so much as a word, Dieter folded the coarse blanket and tucked it into his satchel, uncertain if they’d ask for him to return it later in the day. It took Dieter but thirty seconds to refasten his make-shift sheathe to his body, testing its’ positioning once or twice.
Hours later, the Dark Knight returned as the Villagers gathered in the center of the village as they’d prepared to say their goodbyes to the fledgling Summoner. From afar, the daemon observed the interaction between the elderly woman and her granddaughter, unfazed by the raw emotions shared between the two. When the Summoner and her entourage of Guardians passed, he’d gave them a curt nod of his head. He’d returned to Besaid Village’s version of an Inn, taking the time to converse with its’ owner as he’d tried to discern if they had any further work for him to do. Recently, he’d heard bits and pieces of a rumor pertaining to a pack of troublesome Coyotes, they’d mentioned that they were far stronger than their counterparts due to being Over souled – they’d absorbed the ambient energy of their fallen comrades.
It wasn’t unlike how the Dark Knights of Ivalice offered themselves to the Darkness, they’d converted their very vitality into fuel to grant them brief bursts of monstrous strength. His clientele went ghastly silent as a deafening alarm came from the port. Dieter’s verdant eyes narrowed as he’d studied the man’s expression, searching for some indication of what the Alarm meant. It wasn’t until those two words slipped from his mouth “Sin spawn.” . Before Dieter could inquire further, the man alongside almost the entirety of the village began to madly dash towards their temple, attempting to seek refuge within its’ hallowed walls. Dieter’s hand instinctively shifted towards is blade, firmly gripping the hilt as he’d promptly left the Inn.
Morne’s silhouette passed by overhead as the Holy man leapt from a roof to bypass the crude barrier that surrounded the village. He’d followed shortly behind, Dieter’s muscles pumping franticly as he’d followed in pursuit. Before he’d reached the Beach, he could hear Valefor’s piercing cry as it’d circled above its’ prey, a grotesque octopus like creature.
“…”
The Dark Knight remained silent for the time being as Morne mused to himself, proclaiming something about making a stand. Dieter’s grip on his blade tightened as he’d wrenched the blade free from it’s sheathe. The tip of his blade finding purchase within the ground as he’d began to mutter to himself, his incantations awakening the spirits housed deep within the blade. At first, a baleful green miasma began to emanate from his blade, gathering until it’d formed a crystalline sphere that when shattered would grant himself and Morne the boon of Kiyomori – a defensive art that blessed them with Protect & Shell . However, the Dark Knight’s chanting didn’t end there as he’d invoked Masamune, its’ presence made known by the elaborate swirling pentagram that had formed beneath them. Its’ energy shot upwards through the souls of their feet, blessing them with renewed energy and newfound speed. The Dark Knight's final action was a simple spell, invoking a basic Fire spell. Although its' apperance differed from a tradional spell due its' amarathine hue, no other notably change could be detected as the plume of conjured flames exploded against one of the tentacles.
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