07-11-2017, 09:13 PM
Argento Camerinos floundered.
How long had it been?
The paladin stared blankly at the wall of the Colosseum bloodworks. How long since Trixie? The last coherent human interaction he'd enjoyed in this realm of misery and torment.
Meant to break you. Argento pressed a hand against his chest.
No Sun.
The man clenched his eyes shut. The sound of footsteps echoed all around him as the screams of a battle in the sand pits wafted down from the gateway.
Which life was this? His sixth? The light grew dimmer each time he lost his grip on this realm, yet each time, he was dragged back to his place. His body never had a chance to heal.
Argento opened his bloodshot eyes. The world seemed dim and unfocused. Memories bled into reality as the paladin drifted...
A happier time? No...
The darkness.
When the Darkness had first started to fester into his soul. The time before this dreadful place of fire and sunlessness. The time even before the realm of the smiling god.
The darkness.
***
Sunshine always brought a smile to Argento Camarinos’ grizzled visage. Even with a black eye and a swollen lip, he managed to flash his nearly too-white teeth at the celestial body as it poked over the horizon. In time, its strength would suffuse him, and the events of the last eight hours would feel like distant memories.
Argento had spent the better part of the night hours tracking a fel beast through the forests boarding Ceuta, his home town. He had volunteered to track the creature that had been slaughtering livestock and threatening food stocks. A paladin, Argento had devoted his life to the protection of others, and his life-long crusade was empowered by the Sun and the righteous tenants of its worshipers.
Unfortunately for the sun-blessed warrior, no ne else had bothered to join him. Despite the protestations of his wife and two young daughters, he had not allowed his peers’ lack of courage to impact his resolve.
While it had taken almost the entire night, Argento had tracked the creature and smote it back to the depths of the abyss. His fortitude, and more importantly his armor, had persevered despite the ferocious attacks from the monstrous beast. Fresh scars marred the dense plate armor, and in a few places, the thunderous impacts had bruised his skin. Even so, he had emerged victorious. As a paladin, he owed his life to the Glorious Sun and his strength to Saint Aureus, its chief instrument in the mortal plane.
With the sun beginning to creep up on the horizon, he had started his journey home. Argento began to feel the effects of his wounds and a sleepless night just as he reached the crest of the hill that looked over the fields to his hometown.
Much to his horror, most of Ceuta had been razed. What wasn’t smoldering debris was ablaze, and the skies above the town were black with ash and smog. His fatigue melting away by the second, Argento drew his weapon and charged across the once verdant fields toward his despoiled home.
As he entered the outskirts of town, a ragged group of neighbors and other members of the community immediately flocked to the paladin.
“What happened?” The paladin surveyed his surroundings and began to see the true extent of the devastation. Bodies of people he recognized were in clear sight. Their forms were broken and their features mutilated. For the time being, he saw no members of his family midst the dead. He did, however, spot numerous orcs lying among the corpses of the townsfolk.
One of Argento’s neighboring farmers spoke first among the shell-shocked mass of citizens. “The orcs from the southern mountains struck late last night. They slaughtered those who fought back and abducted over three dozen men, women, and children.”
“Annabelle?”
“I’m sorry, Argento… they have your family.”
The remark struck deep. Without a response, the paladin traversed the crowd and rushed through town. As he reached the other edge of Ceuta, he felt his stomach knot up as he drew closer to the ravaged shell of his family’s farmstead.
Vaulting the broken gate, Argento stormed the pathway and crossed over his home’s violated threshold. Much like the exterior, the inside of his house had been thoroughly ransacked. Paintings and other valuables remained, which reinforced Argento’s belief that the raid had been about more than plunder and goods. The southern tribes were known to traffic slaves, and it was that realization that gave Argento a glimmer of hope that his family may still be alive.
With newfound resolve, the paladin walked into the defiled shell of his family room. One of Saury’s—Argento’s youngest—dolls had been torn in half and left for dead on the floor. More than the burning town or the ransacked house, the battered toy fueled the flames of the paladin’s righteous fury. With the doll in his hand, Argento left his desecrated home behind and threw back his head. “Maximus!”
After a slight delay, a horse’s whinny pierced the silence, and the sound of hooves thudding on bare earth turned the paladin’s eyes toward his burning, ransacked fields. His faithful friend and companion, seemingly uninjured from the events of the last night, dashed over to him. Argento sprung up onto the horse and righted himself in the saddle as if he were garbed in fine cloth rather than battered plate mail. As if waiting for orders, Maximus let out a snort and craned his neck to look upon his rider. The warrior saw his same righteousness reflected in those big, black eyes.
“Ride on my friend! Ride!”
How long had it been?
The paladin stared blankly at the wall of the Colosseum bloodworks. How long since Trixie? The last coherent human interaction he'd enjoyed in this realm of misery and torment.
Meant to break you. Argento pressed a hand against his chest.
No Sun.
The man clenched his eyes shut. The sound of footsteps echoed all around him as the screams of a battle in the sand pits wafted down from the gateway.
Which life was this? His sixth? The light grew dimmer each time he lost his grip on this realm, yet each time, he was dragged back to his place. His body never had a chance to heal.
Argento opened his bloodshot eyes. The world seemed dim and unfocused. Memories bled into reality as the paladin drifted...
A happier time? No...
The darkness.
When the Darkness had first started to fester into his soul. The time before this dreadful place of fire and sunlessness. The time even before the realm of the smiling god.
The darkness.
***
Sunshine always brought a smile to Argento Camarinos’ grizzled visage. Even with a black eye and a swollen lip, he managed to flash his nearly too-white teeth at the celestial body as it poked over the horizon. In time, its strength would suffuse him, and the events of the last eight hours would feel like distant memories.
Argento had spent the better part of the night hours tracking a fel beast through the forests boarding Ceuta, his home town. He had volunteered to track the creature that had been slaughtering livestock and threatening food stocks. A paladin, Argento had devoted his life to the protection of others, and his life-long crusade was empowered by the Sun and the righteous tenants of its worshipers.
Unfortunately for the sun-blessed warrior, no ne else had bothered to join him. Despite the protestations of his wife and two young daughters, he had not allowed his peers’ lack of courage to impact his resolve.
While it had taken almost the entire night, Argento had tracked the creature and smote it back to the depths of the abyss. His fortitude, and more importantly his armor, had persevered despite the ferocious attacks from the monstrous beast. Fresh scars marred the dense plate armor, and in a few places, the thunderous impacts had bruised his skin. Even so, he had emerged victorious. As a paladin, he owed his life to the Glorious Sun and his strength to Saint Aureus, its chief instrument in the mortal plane.
With the sun beginning to creep up on the horizon, he had started his journey home. Argento began to feel the effects of his wounds and a sleepless night just as he reached the crest of the hill that looked over the fields to his hometown.
Much to his horror, most of Ceuta had been razed. What wasn’t smoldering debris was ablaze, and the skies above the town were black with ash and smog. His fatigue melting away by the second, Argento drew his weapon and charged across the once verdant fields toward his despoiled home.
As he entered the outskirts of town, a ragged group of neighbors and other members of the community immediately flocked to the paladin.
“What happened?” The paladin surveyed his surroundings and began to see the true extent of the devastation. Bodies of people he recognized were in clear sight. Their forms were broken and their features mutilated. For the time being, he saw no members of his family midst the dead. He did, however, spot numerous orcs lying among the corpses of the townsfolk.
One of Argento’s neighboring farmers spoke first among the shell-shocked mass of citizens. “The orcs from the southern mountains struck late last night. They slaughtered those who fought back and abducted over three dozen men, women, and children.”
“Annabelle?”
“I’m sorry, Argento… they have your family.”
The remark struck deep. Without a response, the paladin traversed the crowd and rushed through town. As he reached the other edge of Ceuta, he felt his stomach knot up as he drew closer to the ravaged shell of his family’s farmstead.
Vaulting the broken gate, Argento stormed the pathway and crossed over his home’s violated threshold. Much like the exterior, the inside of his house had been thoroughly ransacked. Paintings and other valuables remained, which reinforced Argento’s belief that the raid had been about more than plunder and goods. The southern tribes were known to traffic slaves, and it was that realization that gave Argento a glimmer of hope that his family may still be alive.
With newfound resolve, the paladin walked into the defiled shell of his family room. One of Saury’s—Argento’s youngest—dolls had been torn in half and left for dead on the floor. More than the burning town or the ransacked house, the battered toy fueled the flames of the paladin’s righteous fury. With the doll in his hand, Argento left his desecrated home behind and threw back his head. “Maximus!”
After a slight delay, a horse’s whinny pierced the silence, and the sound of hooves thudding on bare earth turned the paladin’s eyes toward his burning, ransacked fields. His faithful friend and companion, seemingly uninjured from the events of the last night, dashed over to him. Argento sprung up onto the horse and righted himself in the saddle as if he were garbed in fine cloth rather than battered plate mail. As if waiting for orders, Maximus let out a snort and craned his neck to look upon his rider. The warrior saw his same righteousness reflected in those big, black eyes.
“Ride on my friend! Ride!”
![[Image: Shang.jpg]](http://www.omniverse-rpg.com/images/Shang.jpg)