The idea behind Wicked is that it a dark infested world with demons,Monsters, and almost anything that has the desire to cause harm to the human population of the world and bring about the downfall of the human population. The humans are however not going to die without a fight, many who are born into the world have some type of past event that drives them. It may have been the death of their family or a loved one that keeps their hatred for demons alive and burning in their hearts. The humans who have decided to take up arms and fight the monsters are that of a Higher order or those who just seek to fight for the hell of fighting and gaining an amount of Gold or prizes from the bounty of killing the monsters they hunt.
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The cold rolled off of Benawia’s body as she stood in the center of the town. Her hood was drawn up and her cloak pulled tightly around her frame. That, combined with her fur and leathers underneath, made Benawia fully prepared for the weather. Spending most of her life in a mountain nunnery also helped. Still, there was something about this cold that bit down on Benawia’s bones despite her preparation and natural resistance. No wonder the town people needed help. And no wonder they were willing to supplicate a fire spirit, or any spirit at that matter, to try and ease their condition. It was this respect that the villagers had for their deceased and the spirits that ultimately convinced Benawia she would help them. That and she needed to do some good in the world. The scales needed to be righted.
Snow billowed in front of her as she moved to one of the larger buildings of the village. Either it served as a town hall or a church, or perhaps even both, Benawia wasn’t quite sure. All she knew was that the request said to start at this main building before finding the fire spirit and then heading out with the townspeople to appease local their ancestors. Regardless of what task they would do first, Benawia would be happy for a few moments reprieve in the town hall. Her hand reached for the wooden door and she pulled it open, slipping inside with a gust of wind.
The monk carried little with her. She owned little and needed less to survive. Of course, she would be thankful for any alms she received during her travels or quests. Occasionally, Benawia would hunker down for a few months in one area, tending to her studies, helping the locals, perhaps even starting a garden if she had the means, but more often she was traveling. A peripatetic lifestyle born from the depths of the vision the great Nang-ma bestowed Benawia all those years ago.
Some days it felt like she was doing it all wrong.
Shaking the cold that lingered on her body away, Benawia eyed the room, trying to see if someone who was meant for her was here. The faster she could leave, the sooner the townspeople would be warm and safe.
I know by now that you'll arrive by the time I stop waiting
The town was cold, it was sad to see the gods so unpleased. It had been a long time since Issac has his left his home and went back to the battle field. He was a new Lord so dealing with family issues came first, this was the right distraction that he needed. He needed to get back to normalcy the life he had before he become a lord. He walked through the falling snow, he noticed the gray skies above. This was a first for Raven Town, he did't understand why they would let it get this bad before asking for help, gods tend to let man express themselves when it came to praying, but a shrine was something a god would get pissed about. He walked up to the main hut which looked like a church building, Issac did not believe in gods but he was respectful of the people who did. He could only think back to bad times when he inspected the building, it was not his first there. His first time was during the War... this was a hideout for a few mages he had to hunt down. It ended badly and he got a scar on his face because of a wild magic spell he closed his eyes and opened the door.
He noticed a women who was on the other side, she had a cloak and was dressed like a walking monk. He walked inside and walked past her he started to say the words.
" I'm Lord Issac, you have requested my aid in your time of need. I understand that you have a issue with undead and your gods are not pleased with you. I don't believe in gods but I'm here you fix your problem both ways."
He continued to walk forward as he talked out loud so that all the people inside the building could hear him. Many of the people looked at him in silence and that was until a man who was dressed in fine garments stepped forward from a back room. He seemed to be the towns preacher or priest, he had a soft smile on his face. He looked Issac up and down, and looked at the women behind Issac. He nodded his head and said
" I'm happy the both of you made it here safely, I need to address the topic of the fire charm and how we need it."
He started talking that was until a man busted into the hall, he yelled out the words.
"The dead have come!!!"
NOTES ;This is different from acting like a normal player.
She turned just in time to see a man walk in from the cold, gaze over her, and then continue to greet the crowd. She didn’t need to study his appearance to know what kind of man he was—he introduced himself before any assumptions could be made. It was refreshing, Benawia thought, that someone was taking charge in a town that so clearly needed a leader. Lord Issac. She wondered if Raven Town was part of his domain and he was simply doing his duty or if he had come to help out fellow man for the greater good. Intentions matter, especially for a monk of Nang-ma. His last comment made Benawia smirk as she reached to pull her hood down and reveal the parts of her hidden away. “I am Benawia,” she added, addressing both Lord Issac and the crowd. “I am familiar with subjugating or appeasing spirits so I’m willing to lend my hand in this matter.”
As Lord Issac moved forward, so did Benawia, keeping a few paces away from him as a sign of respect. He was not her lord, but he still carried a respectable title. That’s when she noticed the priest arise out of the crowd and great them. She smiled back at him, recognizing the robes he donned. They worshiped a well known deity of protection—not uncommon with towns recognized for their magic. “Of course. We are,” she threw an apologetic look at Lord Issac for speaking on his behalf, “happy to help. I’ve heard of a fire charm can be procured from a local spirit here? That can be dangerous if not done-“
Benawia was cut off as someone yelled into the hall, their voice booming off the wooden walls.
The dead? “Oh no,” the monk inhaled, looking over at Lord Issac. “I assume you can fight, Lord Issac? I cannot handle all the dead on my own and would be grateful for some skilled help.”
She would wait for his answer, hoping he would say yes, before heading out to the cold, mentally preparing her body to fight.
As soon as Benawia stepped outside she could tell that the dead had once belonged to this village. It was almost as if their angry spirits were yelling out, demanding to be respected by those still living in Raven Town. Knowing the dead could cause more harm than feel harm, Benawia reached out for the nearest corpse, punching its diaphragm, using an open fist to bat the corpse back. She hoped to buy a staff soon—her last broke. As a monk she didn’t really need it, but it may be helpful as she aged and… her thoughts broke as she heard a scream.
“Everyone into the church! Barricade yourselves in the church if you cannot fight, quick now!” With that order, Benawia returned her attention to the attacking dead, sweeping a low kick to trip another corpse as a woman and child ran past her. “Quickly now!”
I know by now that you'll arrive by the time I stop waiting
Everything escalated quickly, Issac turned his head to hear the sound of the door being opened. The words that followed only seemed to make him question why the town would wait so long to get help. It was maybe already to late to save this town, but he needed to think positively. That was the only way he was going to get through this; if he stopped to really think about something he would be dead. He noticed that the women who was next to do the door was taking charge, she had some type of aura about her. Issac did like women who took charge and knew how to use a weapon, he started to inspect her more. She was indeed a monk but it was picking the order that she came from, he however could not think of where she could have traveled from.
She questioned the idea of Issac having a sword, more like already knew he would. He was starting to like her more and more with his right hand on his family sword that was sheathed he gripped it tight. He walked out of the building and watched at the door was closing and opening with each person that went inside. Issac needed to focus on the task that was at hand, stopping the evil that walked before him was his task. He was going to stop them and make it no one would die. That was when he heard a scream, he turned his head and noticed that a women was being eaten alive. His eyes opened out of fear and more so shock and that was when he noticed a small child that was next to what was happening.
"Run, if you stay there you will be killed!"
He pulled out his sword and started to dash towards this undead, he did a sweeping motion at the head. He did not stop or hesitate, it was just a clean chop as he separated the head from the body; he watched as the head hit the snow on the ground. He also saw the amount of blood that painted the snow. It was such a dark crimson color such a huge contrast due to the fact he was little snow blind. It was almost black because of his snow blindness. He picked up the child and started to jog back to the now fortified hall. He started to cast a spell, the image of the women being eaten was still in his mind as he chanted the words of the spells.
" I bind this door with chains that will hold down even the darkest of demons." Icy chains shackled together appeared on the door, they sealed it shut. Issac smiled and turned back to face the monk he did not know what to say, was already fearful of the outcome that could come if they fail to archive what was needed. He needed to tell her the truth about what could happen if they fail.
" Hey, I know you are above average when it comes to fighting... I however think that today if we fail to do what we were brought here to do. It's not only us who will die, but every men, women, and child will die because they are counting on our success."
NOTES ;This is different from acting like a normal player.
Hearing Lord Issac’s voice echo her own commands, Benawia felt a weight lift from her shoulders. She knew her limitations, she was no naive youngster anymore, so she knew that she wouldn’t be able to save all these people on her own. That the lord joined in and approved of her idea lifted Benawia’s spirit and confidence. That was, of course, until she saw what shocked the warrior: the living being eaten by the dead. It turned Benawia’s stomach. She had heard of this before—you would be hard pressed to find a monk who didn’t know what evils an angry spirit could do, the dead included. But seeing it in person made her queasy in a way she hadn’t expected. It paled her, but did not stop the monk’s momentum.
As she heard Lord Issac’s spell casting, Benawia worked to keep the undead bodies away from the lord as he worked. Working on one corpse, the monk let out a furry of blows, strike after strike that hit with power albeit at the loss of accuracy. Not that accuracy really matter for the undead. So long as she should batter them away, she would be doing her part. To actually kill them, however, she would need to use her spells.
Muttering a prayer to Nang-ma, Benawia attacked the undead in a different way. This time her own magic, combined with Nang-ma’s wrath, allowed the monk to hack away at the corpse, stabbing through its head and body when her fists could only collide with the creature. As her foe fell, she turned back around to look at Lord Issac, admiring his spellwork. “Crafty with blade and magic,” she complimented before hurrying back to the disaster on hand.
Benawia’s face paled even more (quite an accomplishment given the biting cold and the horror she witnessed earlier) as the lord spoke. “You are right,” she nodded, keeping an eye on the stumbled dead as they tripped around Raven Town. “That is too many lives to lose.” And if Benawia lost her own life then she wouldn’t be able to establish balance…or fulfill her goddess’ vision. “We need to appease the undead. We also need to convince the fire spirit to help the town’s people. Neither of these tasks are hard on their own, but they take time and with the undead assault?”
A huff of warm air billowed from Benawia’s nose as she hissed her discontent. “I feel that appeasing the undead and stopping their immediate assault on the town is the most important task we have, but I fear the fire spirit will not linger in this realm for long.”
“What say you, Lord Issac?”
I know by now that you'll arrive by the time I stop waiting
Issac nodded, he held up his family sword and kept stabbing and slashing at the undead that kept walking towards them. He really did not know how to please a fire spirit or any spirit, Issac was not a religious person so doing things that required rituals were not his expertise. He would just protect the monk the best he could.
"I don't think I'm up for the task of pleasing a fire spirit, I've not had proper training in that field. I'm a military man it's that only life that I've known about."
He kicked back a undead walker who got a little bit to close, he started to cast another spell " I'm your sword and subject the one who will slay all that stands and defy us both." Issac's sword started to glow a faint white, it seemed to have become infused with some type of mystic energy. He then charged into a group of about three walkers, he stabbed one and it combusted when he made contact with his sword. Issac had never felt so much energy, he felt like a proud lion showing his fangs on a the battle field. He spun around and decapitated the walker behind him, it's head hit the snow and he took a deep breath. That was when he grabbed from behind by the other walker, it's took a bite and if it was not for his armor it would have broken Issac's skin.
Issac shrugged hard trying to brake free and after about fifteen seconds he managed to get away, he stumbled forward and had to put his hand on the ground to catch himself from falling. He stood up quickly and with his sword in hand he went for the kill on the last one in the group. Issac looked around trying to gain his bearings and get a estimated number for the amount of dead that was around. He counted a total of six in his line of sight and about five to six more he saw behind buildings.
" Hey, Benawia I count about 12 walkers... this place becoming a little over crowded. If you know how to preform the ritual I will protect you while you do it, I don't think we can handle much more of this."
He held his sword tight watching the walkers who were slowing making their way towards the both himself and Benawia.
NOTES ;It's ok if you want to change the pace of this quest. Muse
And wasn’t that the case, Benawia thought to herself as she watched the “military man” slash down his foes. Competent men weren’t hard to find in this world, but a competent lord who comes to help a village, is respectful to others, knew how to fight, and had a rugged handsomeness about him? Benawia was thankful for this treat of an opportunity to work with Isaac. Out of habit, the monk found herself muttering a prayer to Nang-ma as the lord incanted his own spell. She cast no real spell doing this, but to a nun like Benawia, praying to Nang-ma would ignite her just as much as casting an augmenting spell would for anyone else. Perhaps her goddess would even watch over the lord, despite him being a non-believer. Gods were fickle, but if Nang-ma saw order in the move then she just might and there was no harm in trying.
Impressed she was. Lord Isaac charged into the fray as Benawia watched from behind, studying the man’s movements and body. On one hand she was a monk, she needed to know how people used their bodies as weapons, but on the other hand she was a woman. And there was a magnetism about Lord Isaac that one could not escape from. Not that Benawia planned on acting on this—for many reasons. Firstly, this was entirely the wrong time. Secondly, the lord would no likely have a wife, if not children, at his age and his skills. She would not upset a familial balance. And third, well, who knew what he thought of her.
“I can do it here if the spirits are willing to listen,” the monk replied, stepping closer to Lord Isaac before dropping to her knees, resting her body on top of her legs. “My life will be in your hands during this as my concentration cannot break. But,” she threw a sly smile at him, “your life is in my hands depending on if I succeed. An even balance.” And this was true. If Isaac didn’t protect her then her life would be snuffed out and the ritual broken. And if the ritual broke then the undead would continue their assault and the town would be overwhelmed. They both had to succeed.
Removing her gloves, Benawia inhaled at the biting cold as she wiggled her fingers, trying to keep the circulation. She couldn’t perform this with gloves. The first thing she did was call out to Nang-ma, asking for her guidance, protection, and boon as the monk began. Then she spoke directly to the lingering undead spirits that channeled from their buried cemeteries. She hoped the distance away from the hollow grounds wouldn’t affect her ritual.
“Ancestors of Raven Town, listen to me. You feel as you have been ignored by your families and left to be forgotten in the cold. You are not wrong. But there is reason for this if you listen.” As Benawia spoke, her voice low and melodic, she drew two images in the snow: a bowl of food on the right and a mug of ale on the left. “Your families suffer too from the cold. They struggle to live and have not been able to give you what you deserve. Allow me to in their stead.”
Drawing up her magic, Benawia lifted her hands up in front of her. Cuts quickly emerged on her right hand, blood trickling down to be absorbed by her long undershirt. At the same time, her left hand seemed to glow and look years younger. Damage from the cold seemed to eek away as circulation was restored and her calluses from years of training smoothed out. One hand injured, the other healed. “Take these offerings, spirits, and return to your world, your graves. Take these offerings and let the people of Raven Town recuperate and come tomorrow at sunbreak to clean your graves and honor your beings. Take what I am giving you now and leave.”
With that Benawia slammed her hands onto the drawings in the snow as the magic and blessings collided and a pale light traveled out from her and across the courtyard.
During this time, Benawia could not tell if the undead were still attacking. In a way she was in a trance and could not see the immediate world around her. She hoped Lord Isaac was protecting her body. There was also a chance the spirits were too angry to listen or some would and other more stubborn ones would linger still. Those would be met by Lord Isaac's blade...she hoped.
I know by now that you'll arrive by the time I stop waiting
Issac watched as Benawia started the ritual, he heard her pray and say a few words ask for the blessings and protect to guide and watch her in this task. Issac knew that if let anything happen to this women he would not forgive himself, that is why he started to cast a spell of his own. The spell he casted had not be used in a while. He stabbed his sword into the earth and raised both of his heads into the air, he started a incantation.
"I make a vow to protect, if I should fail may my essence and ghost protect and shield them from all foes."
A bright light erupted from Issac, and a chain appeared around his neck. He picked back up her sword and started walking forward as the undead started to walk towards them both. He put his sword up to block one of the un-deads weapon, he soon after bashed it with his shoulder. It hit the ground laying on his back and Issac took advantage and stabbed it down hitting its chest and cracking a few bones. Issac pulled it out quickly and noticed that in the process of killing one he let another one sneak up on the monk. He threw his sword quickly reacting to what was happening, the undead was soon impaled by the blade. It was now stuck to the side of the hall building. Issac with no longer a weapon in his hand had to think fast as another undead had grabbed his back. He struggled to brake free and in that time another one grabbed his arm, he pulled and kept doing so into he managed to brake free. He grabbed the one that was on his arm by the face with all the strength he could muster up he managed to cause a crack and pop sound and the separation of it's head from the body.
It was not a second later that he started to use it as a weapon against the one that was on his back. He slammed and kept slamming the skull into the others head, all you could hear was the sound of what seemed like two rocks hitting each other. He managed to cause the skull to brake inside his head and with each hit he could feel the grip of the one around him becoming more lose. He dropped the skull and gave one sold buck coming off of the ground a little. He was soon free of the tight undead grips, he however lost his footing in the snow and fell face first. He hit the snow and in fact upon doing that he hit a rock that was being covered by the snow. Issac regretted not wearing his head armor, he pushed himself off of the ground and went for his sword. He ripped it from the wall and held it back up getting into a stance waiting for the next walker to come his way. He slashed and slashed with each breath he took, he noticed that his body was starting to give out on him and he had to fight many more. He looked at the monk who was still doing her thing, he wanted her to hurry up just a little bit but he did not want to rush things.
He looked around and noticed a walker that looked a bit bigger then the rest, this was about 6'7 a big brut and it was walking the direction of them. Issac looked down his expression was fearful and knew that she was blind and was happy that she could not see what he was about to do. He whispered the words, " I am Apostate Issac, I unleash my binds and awaken to kill my foes." When he said the words awaken, a light white aura took form. It soon transformed into red aura and Issac's skin turned to grey, he looked un human. He held up his blade that seemed to have ben altered in a way, the energy around the town also transformed. The space around him stopped snowing more as the turned to steam as the snow touched it. He took his hand and rubbed it through his hair slicking it back and moving it from in front of his eyes to keep it from blocking his eyesight. He then loosened a few of the straps on his armor, they fell and hit the snow leaving an indention with each piece that hit the snow. His whole back could be seen now it was full of scars and had what looked like a brand from a iron, Issac held his sword and he changed his stance. He dashed forward and with each walker that was in his way he cut down, with each kill Issac could feel something from inside him. He felt a little bit un human but more evil and wicked, he needed this feeling if he was going to keep protecting the monk.
He kept moving forward trying to kill all the walkers that were in his sights, he soon stopped and forced his aura forward. It erupted and a load roar could be heard, it was the sound of a lions roar. He then said "I will put you back into the dirt, you unholy fucks."
NOTES ;It's ok if you want to change the pace of this quest. Muse
Had she not been wrapped up in her trancelike ritual, Benawia would’ve noticed the strong spell Lord Issac cast binding himself to this fight even after death. Not even Benawia, attuned to the different ephemeral realms as she was, could conjure magic like that. She would’ve also noticed the intense fighting Issac did in order to protect her therefore protecting the villagers and himself in the process. She would’ve seen the transformation the man undertook as he fought, growing more demonic by the moment, if you could properly call his actions such. It’s difficult to say how the monk would’ve reacted to this situation. It was not in her power to judge what someone gives up in order to gain something else. After all, she gave up mercy in order to fulfill an unknown quota of demon lives. There was more blood on her hands than most would ever think a nun could have.
However, she saw none of this until her own magic and propitiation streamed out from her being and into the surrounding spirits. Her eyes blinked rapidly, as if the action grounded her back into this living realm. She muttered something else, most likely arcane words to her goddess, as the energy from her hands grew in its intensity. Blood stained the snow around her right hand as her left stayed perfectly warm and untouched by the harsh weather around it. Go home. Return. She pleaded this again and again in her mind, both a request and a demand at the same time. There was a warning to the spirits in her actions: if you do not take the supplication then you will be subjugated instead. The barbarian by her side reinforced that threat.
She barely registered Lord Isaac as she yelled out once more, a softer echo to the man’s lion cry. “Be appeased and be gone, spirits!”
What was left of the undead, those who had not died by Isaac’s blade, stiffened as if they were listening—and they were. And then they turned around, shambling back to the graveyard where they awaited the morning sun and promise made to them. One or two lingered, staring with empty eyes at Benawia, but when they turned to face Lord Issac, they backed off. They saw something in the man that Benawia had not, at least not while she’d been in her trance.
“It worked,” she said, her voice coming out as a relieved breath. With that the woman’s magic disappeared, her hands returning to normal as they reacted to the cold weather. Her right was now lined with scars, but at least it wasn’t actively bleeding any more. Placing her gloves back on, the monk lifted back to her feet, keeping her weight off the right leg. That’s when she noticed Lord Issac’s bare back in the winter sun. Having not heard his words or sensed his aura change during the fight, preoccupied as she was, Benawia walked over to his fallen armor and lifted up. “Your armor, Lord Issac.”
She extended the piece out to him, waiting for him to turn around. “The undead will be peaceful for now, but if the villagers don’t go to the graves and take care of them tomorrow at daybreak then there will be a massacre. We have to get to that fire spirit and ask for help so they villagers can return to their normal routine.”
Faintly, Benawia wondered if Lord Issac would join her.
I know by now that you'll arrive by the time I stop waiting
Issac smiled at Benawia as she handed back his armor. He never noticed how good she looked into now. He started blushing and took back his armor and put it back on. When done he walked back to the door of the hall and put his sword back into the swords sheath. It broke the magical chains on the sword return to it's sheath. Issac pushed open the door and looked inside, he did a quick head count to see if everyone was ok. He was happy to learn that none of them had been killed and that none of the undead managed to get inside. He noted what Benawia said about the dead coming back and returning if they don't do or complete the task at hand.
"Folks, we need to work fast.. Father come and give us the charm. If we don't please the spirits, tomorrow will be a dark day for us all."
He turned and walked away and started to look at the bones, he picked up the remains of the bodies and took them to the fire pits. It was Issac's way of cleaning, he hated to see undead corpses for it was a forbidden tradition to let dead sit in the middle of the streets without cleaning or moving the bones. He gathered as many as he could and moved them to the fire pits, he kept doing it and then he noticed a boy walking about helping. It was the kid he saved from early helping him, it was a blessing and Issac appreciated the help from the boy. The boy soon inspired others to help it seemed as if the sight of one could inspire others. Once Issac managed to gather the ones he could see he walked back in the direction of Benawia.
"Do you know the direction we should travel, how far the shrine is... any more key details we need to know about?"
NOTES ;It's ok if you want to change the pace of this quest. Muse
Schoolgirl crushes didn’t stop when you grew up. They didn’t stop when the world was being consumed by war and demons. And they certainly didn’t stop when a half dressed lord was standing before you, looking you over as if he was really seeing you for the first time. Nang-ma guide me, Benawia quickly thought, smiling back over the man. This wasn’t the time to say more or, dare say, even flirt—they had work to do—but the blushing lord wouldn’t be forgotten any time soon. Benawia maintained a neutral distance from Lord Isaac as he released his spells and checked in on the villagers. She too was relieved that the townsfolk made it safely during the assault and that their efforts had been rewarded.
As Issac worked to clean up the dead, Benawia spoke to the priest. They exchanged words, the priest gave Benawia the charm, and she gathered some useful information on the fire spirit they needed to see. “Very well, thank you,” Benawia bowed, paying the religious man the respect without addressing him by a title. She then turned to face Lord Isaac as he looked proudly over the village boy who was currently rallying the rest of his town. It was a sweet sight.
“I do,” the monk answered him, brushing back strands of hair that came loose during battle. “The priest gave me this,” she lifted up the charm, “and said the shrine is about half a mile north from the village. The fire spirit is called Mardi and she can charge this charm that will be able to help the villagers. The thing is, Mardi is impressed not with appeasing or giving food or trinkets…she likes…” Now it was time for Benawia to blush. “Ah, displays of power or energy.”
“The more unique the display the more energy (or fire) she feels. We should go now before it time runs up.”
((OOC: We can move it straight to talking to the fire spirit! If you'd like.))
I know by now that you'll arrive by the time I stop waiting
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