Brought to Light - Sophia, Toustain, Volundr, Harina

[Kidney]

Heavy footsteps brought them further down a path towards damnation. Indeed, as the party drew ever closer to Lypus, strange lights flitted across the overcast sky. Every hour or so, a yellowed-white spot of cryptic shine raced from a part of the sky unseen and threw itself over the wood before finally disappearing.

The whistling wind breathed through the trees as if the earth itself were one giant being, and finally, as the party caught sight of a break in the treeline on the left side of the road, a twisted, sweet nothing graced the ears of each of the hopeful adventurers. 

The break in the treeline manifested as a tall, arching entrance formed of the old, sap-encrusted oak trees. Further, from this, it could be seen that the arch continued into a canal, evil intent twisting the foliage into a bizarre tube of plant matter that led them to their destination. According to the map, whoever held it within a sweaty grasp, this was indeed the old trail. 

A light blazed across the sky, small, but bright. Another wind raced through the trees, though, this esophagus of trees seemed to be the source, and a cold breath bit the faces of the party. Here it was.

This place felt devoid of gods. Yet, according to the map, a half-day of travel was to be done within this vein of the trees. 

[Unter]

As the party walked on the hard ground, the heavens winked out of sight. Nowhere could the blue shine of sky nor the rays of the sun be seen. Indeed, a great many leaves, twisted branches and black trunkys laid there. This nature was... Unnerving. Sophia couldn't put out of her mind that the chaos surrounding her was organised in a way. What was this manner of corruption ? It weezed and itched under her skin. The uncertainty of it all.

Was she jumping at shadows? Those were just... trees. She'd been in forests before. By the Light, even the famous Black Forest wasn't as dark as this place. Leading the way, she had paused for a second when she saw the "arch-way". She had stopped, her breath calm and cool under her helmet, her eyes looking left and right to see if her companions were thinking what she was thinking.

Her companions. Team mates. But in this instance : Crusaders. They were here to bring the Light's radiance upon these heathen. Harina was there, just as Sophia had predicted when they talked in the abbey. The Sister stayed at the back of the march, but Sophia could still feel her presence near her. A flame that shone brightest in this dark place. But then... There was someone else. It was weak, a spark, or maybe an ember ? It was like seeing the ceremonial flame in a church. It was a blessed fire, kept alive by thorough care but no one really knew why it was there. 

It was the same thing here. The one responsible for this feeling was a Vestal, clad in coppery armour and heavy robes. Toustain, she called herself. A name from the west. These people were respected in the Light's teachings, but Sophia didn't seem to sense anything else about her. Did she at least know ? Maybe. But now wasn't the time. Sophia couldn't allow such things to distract herself from the true paths.

And some things distracted her more than the smooth, stubborn feeling of a promising power of a young woman. Behind her walked a strong and very, very stubborn man. A man that had forsook, and was in turn forsook by the Light. Maybe will this Crusade convince him ? It was unlikely. Sophia's tongue had struggled to say his name. Volundeurh. Voloundreuh. Volundrei ? She only saw his name on the bounty board, and only heard him prononce it in a brawny voice, barely worthy of a bear. She would call him Vol, for now. It would suffice.

Her left hand clutched the wood of the torch. The heat of the flame was reassuring, even though she couldn't really feel it through the steel of her helmet. She stepped once in the darkness of the wooden tunnel. There was nothing. No ghosts from the past stuck her down, no angry pagan gods stole her souls and no demon crept from the void. This was good.

This meant the Light was with her, and that she musn't fear the unknown. She talked in a clear voice, the certainty of her survival clear in her voice.

"We are the Flame. And Darkness fears us."

She took another step. And then another. And another. The Torch was now her only source of Light, her companions her only source of human connection and sanity. Her spirit her only source of defiance against the darkness.

[rosallora]

Darkness fears us.

It was quite the statement. She didn't know what to expect, other than to get more wear upon her boots. Had she taken a life? Yes. But more often she had eased the pain of passing, seen the twilight upon a person's face, and helped the stars to shine in place of the sun. Death was no stranger to her, but bloodied violence was, in its own way. The crusaders she had spoken to had told her of how it felt to strike down a foe, how it felt to feel blood upon their skin and know it belonged to a stranger. Her own memories echo, passing through the branches as they walk. It was a vile tangle of limbs. It was an archway, a passage - and to where, they knew, but all at once, she knew nothing. She knew the name of the city, yes, and what they were to do, yes, but this was something that even just by looking at it seemed like nothing she had seen before.

There was a darkness beyond night, she thinks. A darkness that she would soon know. So hold fast to the Flame and let it be known that though there was fear, yes, she would not deny it, there was a strong feeling of purpose. She was here to take down the mark of sin, she was here to hold men to justice. The sky flickers, heavy with the strange glow of the heavens. She turns to the others of their adventuring party, faces more serious and hardened than her own. The bottles of holy water that she carried were a comfort to her, strapped into place next to her mace, which swung at her side.

There was such a seriousness about this. Was that right? Should it feel so pressured, so heavy? There was humidity that cloyed all around them, the air itself conspiring against them. But through that, Toustain swore she heard birdsong. Not all was beyond finding. Not all was so dark.

"We will be travelling for some time according to the map," she says, almost offhand. "I hope you've all worn your best boots."

[EloHim]

/Volundr/
"Aye-aye."- he gruffed from behind Sofia. The money was on his mind, and so he was not willing to banter with the light-lovers. Let them worship Surtr's flame as much as they want. Let them call it Light, or whatever. Let them assure themselves.
Volundr was not a first-timer in ways of war. The warrior that doesn't believe in himself usually dies first. Gods tend not to look out for cowards. But arrows and blades look for them mighty fine. And find them quickly.
He didn't felt the dark creeping in. Whatever it was they were talking about, he didn't feel nothing. Not his first day of going through the dark forested areas towards some village. That's why the job felt familiar.

"Back in the day me and my friends used to trek the mountain ridges with bare feet... And later we quickly learned that boots matter little in battle... And this one gon'be harder than anything else... since we have a job to take some rotten bastards in."- And those rotten bastards had no such orders. So the task was literally to think about your own safety and about not killing some of the enemies. Hard job but Volundr hoped it would be well payed.

[relentless]

|| Harina Derom ||

The child had one thing right. Darkness would fear them. It would flee, running for the hills as the horses of Apelion gallop and stampede over their broken bodies, with spear entow to finish them off. They would be the reckoning of what was to come, a blade to thrust into the heart of the First Sin, and it would wither, then die like all evil things should. The sun beckoned, the light followed, and the champion of Apelions would rise.

That is what Harina believed in, perhaps more fervently so as she strode forth, pale hands raising her vestal robes from the mud, with sandals gently grazing the ground from which they tread. The night was unnatural, nature had been tainted, and the very air around them smelled of heresy. Something dirty, something foul and malignant had breathed here in slow, raspy intervals, and left its taint on the land.

Harina would twist the spear of Apelion in its heart, before ripping it asunder.

She strode forth behind her allies, the three sisters of righteous glory, women that had given their lives to the Light, to Apelion. Either they knew that or not, it wasn't for Harina to shed that truth, for that is the will of Apelion, her sun. With the mace of her religion and the bible of her faith, she walked just behind her sisters, her posture proud and straight as she walked with them into the unknown.

"The land is ill, the evil is ahead."

Harina noted dubiously so, the voice of what seemed to be an angel radiating from her throat. A soft voice, one to rest on, one that had been blessed by the very sun. But her expression was cold, unreadable, the gloomy mist of her eyes stared forth toward the darkness, beyond the reach of the torch.

"Sisters and brothers, let us embark, and rid this place of the illborne. Sister Sophia, lead the crusade, my faith stands at the ready."

Harina gave a reassuring nod as she stood behind her sisters, glancing toward Volundyr. The man would make use, despite his uncivilized mannerisms. For better or for worse, she would need a shield, else evil would ruin the light she carried beneath her bosom.

[Kidney]

As Sophia moved further into the tunnel, the darkness seemed to swallow what apparent light attempted to flow in from outside. Deep magic guarded this place, it seemed, or marked it. The depths of this place seemed unattainable in nature, as if infinite until Sophia's torch cast aside the doubts seeded within the party's mind. 

The scent of death crept within the noses of them all two hours in. As Sophia's light continued to shine, wet, bloody, burnt carcasses of various housepets hung from the ceiling or were smashed into the crevices between the branches. The rot and ash assaulted the senses, and as the dead animals became more numerous, the scent became usual.

As the next hour passed, the group felt small squishes from under their feet, the ground becoming oddly wet with a scarlet fluid, not quite blood, but not quite dripping sap. The dead animals, now, seemed less numerous. What now replaced them was a sign, planted near a final archway of two trees, and displayed upon it was a skinned man.

As the light from Sophia's torch illuminated him, the man twitched upon the sign, tied to it with some sort of coarse rope. He moaned, turning a scratched and flea-bitten head towards the group. Now, the light glinted off of the encrusted blood and emblazoned the internals of his skull, as his eyes were gouged from his form. 

The man opened his mouth, and let out a shriek, yanking upon his restraints. Beyond him lied a road, not the trail they had been trekking upon, but now a well-traveled road, leading into a smallish town, not all that smaller than the Hamlet (assumed from the distance they sat at). The buildings sat empty and boarded up, and foilage threatened to swallow the homes on the edge. 

The man shrieked once more, finally coughing a sentence forth, "I CAN FEEL IT! PUT OUT YOUR LIGHT!" 

As the man spoke, muscles exposed to the air, slowly turning green in places flexed, his breath pulling chest muscles taut, and letting them relax. 

[rosallora]

It quickly got worse. The blood. The viscera, the atmosphere, and sweet Goddess, the smell. She wishes it was raw but instead everything was covered in the stink of decay She glanced to the others periodically, faces almost hunched, ready, prepared for this. Prepared? How does one... how does one prepare for this? She tries to keep her eyes forward, just keep moving. It was too late to turn back and if she did, what did that say about her other than that she was a coward?

Nothing could have prepared her for the sight of the man. She jumps back, hand going to the handle of her mace as he screeches with a voice that sounds like stone on stone. She feels her mouth go agape, breath instantly leaving her. She can't stop staring, eyes locked on the sight, the shredded skin and pulsing muscle, the eyes, black from clotted blood. Still alive, heart still beating, tortured and put in agony, eaten alive by fleas and left here as a warning - for them? There's a sound that leaves her, something that happens before she can stop it, ice in her chest and all around.

[EloHim]

Volundr wasn't a man to be scared of occasional dark or soggy ground.Raids to East Lands saw to it. So at first he wasn't really perturbed. But the dead animals... that's what started to scare him. Maybe there were some right to what that brainwashed nun Harina was saying. Maybe the land was truly ill. Idun seemed to disfavor this land...or not permitted on it. Which was a bad, bad sign.

And then to finally hit that first nail into the coffin - a skinned, eyeless man, hanging on a rope by a sign. Even his kin was not that savage. Well...it was. But very rarely...and for a valid reason. They didn't just went about submitting everyone to the Trial of Bloody Eagle. Yes they killed, yes they enslaved, yes they sacrificed. But this...this was utter savagery, serving no purpose but to instill fear.
While others stood, looking, northman stepped out of the line and directly went towards the man. He didn't carry the torch and for that he was thankful - he didn't want to subject the man to even more suffering. While he walked he got one of his metal "nails" - a dagger-sized stake made from iron. When he walked up to him he raised his shield, protecting the man's head from the light of the torch. He spoke to him, ignoring the things that were happening with his body
"Poor bastard... Whoever has done that to you will pay dearly. Tell me your name, so i know for whom I will pray."

[relentless]

In the valley of death, they walked, they ventured and marched into the depths of depravity, where civility dwindled to nothing but four roaming embers in this sea of damned. Tortured souls, hung by string and carved like deer littered the landscape as far as the torch would permit. Had the lands always been this ravaged? How far had this evil gone? 

Thoughts like that were to be thought through wine and prayer, not in the land of the rotten. Dog, cat, rabbit and now humans had been pilfered of their dignity, and of their flesh it seemed. The sight of the animals made her eyes open, but the man himself was... one of rare sights during her crusades. Sometimes, the eastern heretics would take prisoners, usually men or women who followed the flame, nailed them in both hands and feet then left them out in the sun to scab over. This seemed to be... somewhat more extreme however.

Harina looked upon the man, and her expression broke, a hateful cringe with a 'tch' to slip out of her mouth. Heretics, the work of madmen, the scheming of cowards. This is the work of one, and by the light, she would not let the darkness take her down. The vestals eyes glanced at Toast, expression combing back into a stalwart coldness, watching as fear slimmed over her. 

She was young, just like her, yet the innocence of a lamb, as pure as the flame. Harina could almost feel her shivers from here, and it made her resentful toward the evil that had done this even more. To put a fellow sister in such dread was a death sentence in itself, by stoning no doubt. Remaining relatively calm, the woman slipped the handle of her mace through a belt hoop and strode forth, a hand coming through the slip between Toasts right arm and holding it in reassurance. Meanwhile, she brought the book forward in front of them both, flicking through the parchment detailing various scripture, moving to a warming chapter. Once found, Harina closed her eyes after giving the sentence a brief read, before she spoke.

"As the first sin hung over Luthor, hero of the Sun, he uttered not revenge, nor vengeance, but a blessing to all those with good in there heart. For as their is light, evil will not succeed."
Harina spoke soft, embracing each word like a mother in her own right, each syllable was emphasized and spoken with passion. A few seconds would pass with nothing but soothing presence, but eventually, the parchment would seem to radiate a faint light. Almost like gold. The glow would soon begin to funnel into a thin, radiant orange stream of liquid that spiraled in the air in harmony. There was no sound as it simply flowed in memorizing, slow patterns  before it hung over Volundyrs shoulder and aimed to 'pierce' the man. 

"Saint Isaac, Lord Scribe of the Order."
She finished, clapping the book shut, and turning her head toward Toast, giving a reassuring smile despite the nature around them. The thin stream of gold like liquor seeped into the skinned mans chest, and once in contact, it would snake inside very fast, in the blink of an eye before disappearing entirely. Although, there was no sign of physical healing, the man would feel a drug like sense of euphoria, numbing the pain enough to hopefully share a name before the large man finished him off.

[Unter]

The surrounding darkness seemed alive. Like an animal. A wolf, grim and bleak, clutching at Sophia's torch. She could feel it. This was both a blessing and a curse. It was a Light-forsaken place, in every meaning of the term. Everything around them was dead. Everything around them was hostile. Everything around oozed this feeling of dread, an evil omen that didn't bode well for the rest of the Crusade. 

Dead animals. Dark trees. The only thing protecting them was the Light. The blessed Light. Even Sophia's armour, solid steel that never failed her, seemed to be pierced by this atmosphere. She felt naked, but this wouldn't deter her. As her armoured feets thumped in the red slush that plagued the earth, only one thought allowed her to keep her path straight and steady, as a Crusader should be. 

She would see this through. Whatever unholy abomination had done this, no matter what manner of beast -human or not- had hung those animals on the roof, she would utterly destroy it. Or else the shame of letting it live would destroy her. They were getting closer. The anticipation was building up inside her, her muscles were tensing up. At every step, she seemed to clutch the hilt of her shorter blade ever harder. It would useful in this cramped space. 

And then, she saw it. It appeared suddenly into the Light, and no signs of its presence could be known. Sophia's tensed muscled jumped, and she let out a grunt of surprise. In this, she nearly dropped the torch. And would have doomed them all. The sight of this... man. This wretched man. No, it wasn't human anymore. A puppet of pain and suffering, attached to a sign in a grim sense of humour. It shook everyone. It shook Sophia. She could see the bare flesh, the bare muscles of the man. A sickening green tint affected them. Were they rotting after all this time ? How was this man even alive ? 

While the female Crusader stayed back, she observed Vol and Harina take care of the screeching abomination. Its screaming was even worse its gruesome appearance. It begged her to put out her Light. Sophia didn't understand this. This was even more disturbing than anything they had encountered here. Why would anyone want this ? Why would anyone cut themselves off from the source of Life itself ? It was mind-bogglingly difficult for Sophia to understand this. Even if its eyes hurt at the sight of the flame after so long in the dark, one should be happy that Salvation finally came. But something in the plea, something in the voice of the puppet seemed desperate. It truly didn't want the embrace of the Light.

But this couldn't be. They couldn't stay in the Darkness, not here. Sophia wouldn't stand naked against the darkness, no ! And so, she put one hand on Toustain's shoulder, and said in an uncertain and cool voice. She wanted to reassure her. And in so doing, reassure herself.

"Beyond this place of wrath and tears

Looms but the Horror of the shade,

And yet the menace of the years

Finds and shall find me unafraid.

Take strength in these words, Sister. But mostly : Take strength in the Heart of the Flame, for it is in the Light that true salvation awaits. Remember when you first lit the Holy Fire. Remember the fulfillment it gave you. Gather the determination in this memory and in this prayer : Let darkness be dispelled."

She let go of Toustain's shoulder, and opened the leather pouch that was on her hip. With her free hand, she took her holy tome. Rimmed with gold, it shone under the flickering light of the Torch. But she was about to change that. Opening the tome to a random page, she touched the thrice blessed paper. And during this instant, she was reunited with her Spirituality. She could feel the strength it gave her. But Sophia was also aware of the ecstasy. The flood of power, one that she could redirect if she had trained more, broke her own mental barrier. It filled her, and with determination and grit, she wrestled the power of the Light.

Her words carried meanings. Coupled with the power, it carried the Light's will. She was the Flame. And darkness feared Her. In a power-filled voice, she declared :

"O Light, hear my cry:

Guide me through the blackest nights.

Steel my heart against the temptations of the wicked.

Make me to rest in the warmest places."

She cast the Light's Embrace. 

(I rolled a 19 : This is mainly for the effectiveness of the Light.)

Around her, a bright circle of Light illuminated the place. It was a purer shine than that of the torch, and it extended one or two meters more than the radius of the puny flame. This was the Light's power. In this, Sophia tried all she could to affect the mind of her comrades. They wouldn't feel minor pains, but it was useless here. No, here she tried to soothe the mind with her powers.

Sadly, it wasn't effective at all. Frustration welled up inside her. Why didn't she practice her powers sooner ? Why did she had to be so reckless ? At least, there was more Light. 

And here, in Sophia's mind, this meant that they were safe.


 

[Kidney]

The man screeched once more! "NoooOOOOOOOO!" He screamed, pulling so violently against the ropes themselves that a sickly crunch sounded as he dislocated his own wrist from the pull. "PUT! IT! OUT!" He roared, staring all around, empty sockets scanning the area, even as the euphoria struck him, he did not calm against the light. "They can smell it." He said, leaning into his own restraints, sweating blood down his form, " They will come soon. They are hunting, but they will return!" He said, rising slightly.

Dark whispers ushered themselves in from the forest around, and the man looked towards the sounds. "Please. Put it out. Put it out. Put it out. Put it OUT. PUT. IT. OUT." He began to repeat himself, becoming louder, and louder, and louder. 

A light shown from the center of the ruined town. A bright, column of light that slammed the overcast sky once more, and raced back to its original start. As the orb of light sprinted across the sky, the man began to heave. His muscles, before their very eyes, began to sporadically turn green, then to red, then to green again. "Pleeeeeease...I refuse to hear another person's skin bitten from their bones..."

[EloHim]

The light that he saw coming from that woman... Perhaps there were some truth to whatever they were spouting about. Maybe they just have the blessings of goddess Eir on their side. Or maybe the whole Valkiri order was there for those women. Blacksmith refused to submit his brain to thinking about it. Who gave a shite right now? It didn't helped, only agitated the poor sod.
“Ærrmaðr. Go with your gods.”
A quick stab through the heart followed, putting the man out of his misery. Then the sharp piece of metal went back to its place.
Volundr took up his hammer, ready to smash skulls.
"When a man asks to put out the light, adding more is never a smart choice. But what's done is done."- he commented on Sophia's actions.
"Sadly, there is no time for proper burial. Even if he was mad, some truth might'v been in his words. And that means we will soon have company. And a large one. Say yor prayers, Sisters of Battle, and steel your bellies. For the slaughter is at hand."
He hoped he was going to enjoy himself in this mess. But then again...fighting for his life is only half the fun. 

[rosallora]

It's a new feeling, having the comfort of Sworn Sisters, flames of hope in a dark place. Always abbey sworn, yes, girls like her, then women like her, but they were from beyond and away, with minds full of sights she had never seen. Despite them, her eyes never leave the man. She can see his expression as he moves, desperate - he does not mean them harm. There is no violence to him, no ill will. She can see that in his motions, how he strains, how he screams, he is not malicious, he is the moaning dead. The moaning dead... with one last request. The smell overwhelms her nostrils. There is a hand upon her arm, there is a voice in her ear, they are experienced and kind but she is gripped by this, by the need, by the agony. Volundr's words feel true to her, there was veracity in the poor man's mouth, he had no reason to lie.

"Put it out..." it's soft at first, a murmur, her eyes gazing into black and ruined sockets. "Put it out... it's his last wish, he means us no harm, put it OUT..!" she turns to Sophia, eyes wild with the sight.

"In agony he has not begged to be released," she breathes, "he's begged for darkness. If something... if something can see it, can smell it, they know where now, they know we are HERE now, we must.. move." Beasts would follow prey, but only as far as the trail was tracable, right? She unclips her mace from her side, holding it in an unsteady hand. "Put out the torch, in the Flame's name, this man means us no harm! We must hurry!"

[relentless]

|| Harina Derom ||

It was incredibly odd how her healing spell had been rejected by the skinned man, or more accurately, proved ineffective in at least allowing him to be at ease. His wails grew more and more dreary on the mind, making her squint in annoyance. The beasts that had done this, would surely repent for their crimes.

Once the large man had cut his lifeline, only the sounds of the forest, and the words the skinned victim had spoken. It would be foolish to put out their guiding light not only due to the offence it may cause to Apelion, but to invite the shadows to linger around them? It was fool hardy at best, and if they were to fight the monsters in the dark...

"A fools notion. The light is our guide, we must trust it. Else we fall and become... that."

Her free hand made a gesture toward the skinned man, hand falling short from Toast as she readied her mace of the sun once again. The darkness awaited them, and if the shadows were drawn to the flame, let them come, the might of a follower of Apelion is stronger than any evil. The high priest stepped forth past the skinned man, the book of her faith held to close to her breast, looking down in absolution, with mace in hand.

"Let us venture forth in prayer, sisters. Through the valley of death, our faith keeps us strong. Our resolve will not be weakened even if the flame is cast aside. Through the will of Apelion, we, as cinders of the flame will make it through to the light."

Harina turned her head toward the torch bearer, nodding at her in reassurance.

"I deem it so. Sister Sophia, please continue."

She inquired quickly, motioning down the path with a waft of her mace.

[EloHim]

"The choice is in your hands, Sophia, ultimately... But I somewhat agree with Harina on that one."- he looked at the most inexperienced of the three women, at least he guessed she was, by the looks of her.
"It's not about if the poor sod meant us harm or not. I dunno if you're new to battles, Toust, so i put it bluntly. Think not with faith brains but with logic brains. Advantages, disadvantages. Yes,by turning off the light we might avoid being discovered, but we might as well simply bump into them in that godsdamn dark. And fighting in the dark is no fun either. Especially if some of your allies cant see shite and might just whack you on the head instead of the bloody cultist. If they can "sence" the light somehow that means they don't need to use it themselves to see us. And by dimming the torch we might just invite them to put the daggers in our backs without as much as a fighting chance."
And being stabbed in the back was not pretty. Nor enjoyable. Sucked? Pretty much.