β’ A full roster of the currently known members of the Adventurer's Guild. β’
Rule(s):
β’ A party leader may select up to three companions at any current time. β’ Only characters of the same rank or below will follow a party leader. (Barring special circumstances) β’ More information about characters are divulged the longer they remain in the party. β’ Party members can be dismissed between quests. β’ More adventurers may be added at a later time.
"Every adventure starts with a humble beginning..."
Within the walls of the ancient Adventurer's Guild, legendary tales are forged, ballads are crafted and heroes are born. All people hear of the exploits, but only a few embark upon the journey to join the Guild. To become an adventurer is to search for a new life as a hero, protecting the common folk and the nobility alike. It is an honorable profession, one that all children aspire to one day commit to. The Guild promises a life of adventure, heroism and legendary struggle, a promise that many novice adventurers reach eagerly towards with open arms; pledging their lives to causes they know almost nothing about.
But bravery comes easy when one is protected by tall, city walls.
--
The morning sun rose high over the eastern mountains, its gentle rays cascading across the city and penetrating the windows of the Guild. The Adventurer's Guild was especially busy this fateful morning, with hundreds of adventurers coming through its large doors to find quests, new party members, or both. Adventurers of all shapes, sizes, ranks and races came to this building, hoping to find some sort of glory along with their next paycheck. The inside of the building was spacious, enough to pack several hundred adventurers comfortably within its walls, along with providing all sorts of amenities to any travel weary adventurers. As the Apostle enters the building for the first time, she is greeted by an unfamiliar, yet welcoming smile.
"Good morning!" A voice chimes happily, her auburn eyes averted towards her new visitor. Flicking a strand of hair from her face, she beckons the new adventurer towards the desk she was standing behind. "Welcome to the Adventurer's Guild. I haven't seen you around here before," She pauses, eyes glancing up and down the stranger's form. She immediately notices the Apostle's distinct equipment, the quality of which was quite superior to the equipment normally found wielded by new adventurers. "I'm Guild Girl. It's a pleasure to meet you." She begins to remove a stack of books and loose papers from underneath her desk, placing them upon her desktop before beginning to shuffle through them. "What name shall I register you under?" She paused for a moment, waiting for the woman to respond before jotting the name, 'Apostle' into her record book.
"You came in at a good time. Mornings are when we put up all of the quests for the day." As soon as she had finished writing, she reaches back down, revealing a porcelain tag attached to a leather string. "If you're planning on looking for party members to join your party, there are a couple of new adventurers that just came in last week." She explains, pointing to her left before placing the adventurer's new tag in front of her. "If you'd like to join a more experienced party, Female Fencer or Berserker are looking for party members. They don't always take new adventurers, but you seem like you might know what you're doing. Maybe they'll make an exception?" She shrugged, before turning towards the Quest Board to her right. "Of course, you could always fly solo. Not sure I recommend it... but you can always take a look at the quests we have posted."
After a brief pause, the Guild Receptionist leaned into the desk. "I think that's about it. If you have any questions, Apostle, I'm always happy to help."
The grandeur modesty of the Guild was no less than daunting for the foreign Apostle, whose eyes were mostly used to the pristine pillars of cathedral halls. In light of her pilgrimage, she had clad herself in attire bought with the pocket of gold she had saved, though she looked slightly burdened beneath it. The straight sword she carried was far heavier than the wooden blade she had trained with, and the shield she wore was a new concept entirely. In spite all of this, she forced her careful posture with the hope that she would eventually adjust to it. The small chime on her waist-belt was among her few connections to home, along with the many grandiose stories the late Pontiffhad told her throughout her youth. His tongue had spoken many tales of glory during his time within the Guild, all of which had inspired Apostle, though he seldom told of any losses or give any such lessons on the matter.
She approached the desk with false confidence, her chin lifted with a enthused smile in response to Guild Girl's warm greeting.
"I'm glad to finally make it!" She chimes, her shoulders raising, "Apostle is fine."
"A party... I hadn't thought about that." Apostle's eyes flickered across the Guild, taking in the array of individuals posted among the many seating arrangements. She thumbed over the tag's engravings idly before tying it around her neck piece, and considered her options. The concept of introductions rendered her wary, and for a moment's distraction she instead turned to the quest board to the right, her eyes promptly widening at the immediate mentioning of ogres and dragons. The crowd that had previously gathered had mostly dispersed, and she was able to stand frontward towards the postings. "Are dragons really this frequent?"
She quickly moved on to the lowest paying quests. Rats, slimes, goblins -- lesser creatures for less gold, but an expected starting point for a novice adventurer.
A quick glance sideways led her thoughts towards one individual in particular; a hammer-wielding Novice Warrior, who seemed to bear a porcelain tag. Apostle held her breath for a moment, before approaching through the parting crowd.
"Excuse -- excuse me!" She raised her voice, fumbling towards the girl, "Sorry -- are you headed for a quest? I'm... I'm looking for a party, if you have room. I wield Heal, if it would be of any help."
Her opening was poorly rehearsed, and she was a little flustered by the time she reached the girl. Blue eyes held wide in a mix of hope and persuasion, her brows knitted in waning confidence.
As the Apostle navigated her way through the crowds of adventurers that filled the Guild's main floor, the Novice Warrior turned her gaze upon hearing a voice beckon for her attention. "No need to apologize to me." The young woman's lips creased into a smile, noticing Apostle's similarly colored dog tag. "We're all new blood around here." She explained, before listening to the Apostle's offer. "I'm the Novice Warrior, it's a pleasure to meet a healer." Indeed, Heal was something of a hot commodity for adventurers of all ranks, newer parties especially. But before she could provide the young woman with a straight answer, another man interjected himself into the conversation. Wearing a mix of leather and iron armor segmented into various plates, the blonde adventurer leaned closer so that he could hear into the conversation.
"Who's the young lad?" He remarked with a gruff, deep voice. The Brawler quickly studied the new woman up and down, immediately noticing her rather expensive looking plate armor. "Huh. She looks tough." He grinned, before turning towards the Novice Warrior. "Tougher than you, even."
"And I'm sure she could pummel your stupid face in as well." With an annoyed look in her face, the hammer wielding adventurer pointed towards the new stranger. "This is Brawler. He's one of my party members. I'd ignore him if I were you." She sighed, before turning back towards the Brawler. "This is the Apostle. She wants to join our party. I think we can use her, since she can cast heal."
"Heal? What the hell would we need that for?" He chuckled, "Just don't get hit. Then we won't have to worry about it." He leaned in towards the Apostle, "Useless spells aside, she looks like she can fight, plus she's pretty cute. I wouldn't mind having her in my-ow OW!"
The Novice Warrior had grabbed the man by the ear, tugging the taller Brawler closer toward the ground. "Alright. That's more than enough out of you." The Novice Warrior growled, "The next time you get cut up, you're going to be happy that the cute Apostle is there to heal you." She explained, before turning back to the Apostle. "Anyways, we'll join your party. Would you prefer to go with just the three of us, or find a fourth member? We were thinking about hunting goblins, but we'll take whatever job you want to take."
The Novice Warrior's kindly welcome prompted the Apostle's posture to settle, though she recoiled at the sudden interjection of the Brawler. She held her hands up, and though she laughed nervously, she was charmed by the bantering and relieved by the immediate camaraderie between them. Perhaps her nerves had been misplaced.
"I'm glad! This will be my first job, you see." There was a smile to her tone, and she leaned her head down towards the wrangled Brawler. "I'll be there to help, if you do get hurt."
The Apostle thought for a moment, standing straight. "Hm, a fourth may be helpful... Even if it's only goblins." She pondered, her eyes beginning to survey the surrounding populace. There was a menagerie of adventurers during the early hours, including the aforementioned Female Fencer, whose elegant attire caused her gaze to linger for a moment. Alas, she moved on, until she spotted a one-eyed Female Smuggler. It was troubling to assume, but she looked to be in the same position as the Apostle and her new party. "What about her?" Without awaiting an answer, she began to make her way across the Guild, her armor tinkering in her wake.
"Pardon me," she began curtly, hoping to gain the young woman's attention, "if you're willing, our party is looking for a fourth for a goblin quest." She smiled politely, her hands clasped in front of her. Though after a moment passed, she doubled-back on her own abruptness. "I-it's no issue if not, though!"
The Novice Warrior nodded at the Apostle's suggestion to find a fourth member. Indeed, there was safety in numbers, or so she believed. The only downside would be having to split the reward with yet another person. But while money can always be made through more quests, their lives were a one use affair exclusively. As the Apostle pointed to another adventurer, the Novice Warrior shrugged. "She looks like a troublemaker." She mused, but didn't raise any further qualms as the armored blonde made her way across the room and towards the woman.
The dark-haired woman turned to face the adventurer when she was spoken to, her cat-like iris studying the Apostle up and down for a moment as she offered her a place on their party. There was a brief pause of silence, presumably a moment for the Smuggler to think about the offer before responding. Instead, the Smuggler's hands reached outward, placing her palms against the Apostle's armored chest. "How do you move in that?!" The Smuggler exclaimed with a look of shock stretched across her face. As if grabbing the Apostle's breasts through her armor, she pretended to squeeze, only to have her fingers glance off of the plate armor. "I mean, doesn't it hurt being so constricted?!"She chimed once more, a small trace of drool hanging off the side of her lower lip.
"I knew she was going to be trouble." The Warrior groaned.
The air-groping lasted for only a few moments before the Smuggler snapped out of her trance-like state. "Goblins you say? Ah yes. Goblins!" She lowered her hands before clapping them together. "I'd love to join your party. If you'd have me!" The dark haired woman grinned, "I may not be as strong in a fight, but I do have quite sticky hands, you see." Before the Apostle could realize what had just transpired, the Smuggler opened her hand to reveal one of the Apostle's belongings in her hand: Her Saint's Chime.
"Woah! Woah! Do me next!" The Brawler exclaimed, "Teach me how to steal a girl's-"
"That's enough out of you!" The Warrior grabbed the Brawler into a headlock, holding him tightly before turning to the Apostle. "I think we're ready to go, if you are."
The Smuggler's introduction was least expected, and the Apostle startled and yelped at the invasion. Her face flushed red despite the metal barrier between them, and she stumbled back a few paces to regain her space. "It's... not so bad, you get used to it." She uttered, though looking down, she she blinked hard at the exposed chest before her.
"Of course! I'm glad to have you!" She chirped, though her eyes soon widened at the sight of her chime and she grasped at her belt, glancing up and down at the sudden absence of her catalyst. "What -- how?" The Apostle's voice held a mixture of awe and panic as she briefly tried to understand how the Smuggler managed to swipe the chime without it so much as making a tinker. She reached for it and took it back quickly, fastening to her belt and cursing herself for losing such a thing so easily.
The smile returned to her face, and her head tilted with enthusiasm. She laughed softly at the Brawler's continued misbehavior, and turned on her heels. "Looks like we're ready, then! Do we need to stock up on potions?" She asked, her knuckle raising to her chin as she paused her steps towards the door. She had no potions to hand, but one of the others may have a small stock to share. Unfortunately, she had not considered potions during her initial preparation, and so had very little gold to put towards them.
Upon hearing the Apostle's request to purchase potions, all of the adventurer's faces shifted awkwardly to the floor. Of course, these Porcelain ranked adventurers wore everything they owned on their backs... and as such had no money for potions or even food at the moment. "I could steal some." The Smuggler suggested with a shrug, much to the Novice Warrior's dismay. "We can't steal... we'd have a lot worse than goblins coming after us if we do." The Warrior explained, before turning back toward the Apostle. "I think we'll just have to go as is." She made her way to the quest wall, before tearing off a sheet of paper from the board.
"This one doesn't look too bad. A group of goblins have taken over an abandoned fortress not too far away from here. The pay looks pretty good too." She handed the paper to the Brawler, who pretended to read it even though it was obvious he had no idea how to read. The paper was then passed between the other adventurers, before ending up in the Apostle's hands. "If this looks good, take it to the front desk, tell the Guild Girl we'll take the quest and meet us outside. I'll arrange for our transportation in the meantime."
The Apostle looked down at the paper, he brows knitting slightly at the mentioning of a fortress and connotations which came with it. By her own assumption it would surely mean there'd be a higher number of goblins, but goblins should be a breeze even for novices, right? She nodded once to herself and made her way to the front desk, placing the sheet down on the surface and in front of the Guild Girl.
"We'll take this job, if that's okay!" She chimed, ready to sign her party to the post. Her enthusiasm was oddly placed, but she was excited for her initiation, and she hurried outside to catch up to her party once ends were met.
"Are we ready to go?" She asked as she hopped out the doorway, tucking the quest behind her breastplate for future reference. Her chime and armor tinkered lightly as she approached, holding her sword steady at her hip. "It's not far, apparently, so hopefully we'll be back in town before nightfall."
"Ah, have you decided on your first quest?" The Guild Girl flashed the Apostle a smile as the job posting was set down in front of her. Her smile quickly dissipated when she noticed which quest the first timer had brought to her desk. "Um..." She paused, her pen hovering over the document. Of course, it was the Guild Girl's responsibility to sign off on any assignment that any adventurer takes. It was also her job to make sure that any adventurer doesn't take on a job far too difficult for them. While the job had been ranked for Porcelain adventurers according to the Adventurer's Guild itself, the Guild Girl knew that this was very, very wrong. "I really think that you should-" Before she could finish her sentence, the Apostle was already pushing through the double doors to catch up with her party.
"You look pale." A familiar voice snapped the Guild Girl back to attention. "Are you alright?" Standing in front of the Guild Girl stood a bronze-ranked adventurer well known by the other members of the Guild.
"I'm just... I'm worried about that group." The Guild Girl nervously bit her lip, as if waiting for the adventurer to step in to help.
The adventurer nodded, "My party has nothing worthwhile today. We can follow them, if you'd like."
Several hours had passed as the newly formed adventurer's party had found their way outside of the city walls and to a large mountainside. Cresting above the nearby slopes, the group could finally see the castle that the goblins had been reported in. The tall ruins of battlements that had fallen many years ago loomed ominously over the horizon. "Must have been a beautiful castle a long time ago." The Novice Warrior noted, slinging her war hammer over her shoulder. "Let's go. These goblins aren't going to exterminate themselves." She moved ahead of the group, beginning to climb the long steps that led up to the castle.
"You telling me we have to go up all of that?!" The Brawler whined, "Who the hell builds a castle so high up on a mountain anyways?!"
"Well, it's not coming any closer." The Smuggler mused before following up the steps after the Warrior. With a groan, the Brawler waited for the Apostle to start moving before following after the rest of the group.
The group continued to ascend the slopes of the mountain until they finally approached the entrance to the castle. The remnants of a wooden gate, splintered apart with pieces laying across the ground in every direction. "This castle must have been abandoned for almost a hundred years." The Warrior chimed, noting the type of construction that had been used to build the walls. As she inspected the entrance, each member of the party noticed a silhouette dash suddenly across their peripheral vision... then it was gone. "It's time, stay vigilant." The Warrior tightened her grip around the handle of her kite shield before pressing onward.
The Smuggler gracefully flipped two daggers free from hidden sheaths in her gauntlets as the Brawler drew up his sword. The group remained in a tight formation as they stepped within the walls, each one searching the area for any signs of movement. The tall walls of the castle blocked out much of the sun's light as the party moved into the courtyard, leaving them veiled under a thick shadow. They continued to move slowly across the courtyard for several moments, until the Smuggler noticed a glint in the distance. "Look out!" The Smuggler suddenly tackled the Apostle to the ground. Above them, an arrow whizzed overhead, missing the pair by mere inches.
"Archers!" The Warrior moved closer to the group, blocking the next two arrows with her shield. It wasn't long until more arrows were raining down upon them, each one falling closer and closer to the group. "We didn't bring anything to hit them with!" She growled, noting the goblin's positions high up on the walls.
"Damnit! How do we get up there?!" Under the Warrior's protection, his eyes searched for a path, noticing a staircase that led up the side of the walls. "There!" He pointed toward perhaps their only option. "Let's get up there and kick their asses!"
"Get up!" The Smuggler dragged the Apostle to her feet. "We're moving!" As soon as the Apostle had been brought back to her feet, the group started running for the staircase. "Keep those shields up!" As a flurry of arrows landed in the courtyard around them, the Smuggler counted at least a dozen archers shooting at them. As they ran up the stairs, the Smuggler couldn't help but feel that this ambush was far too organized for a group of goblins. If they didn't keep on their toes, the situation would deteriorate quickly.
[FONT=Times New Roman, TimesNewRoman, Tinos, Liberation Serif, FreeSerif, Times, texgyretermes, nimbus roman no9 l, serif]The fortress' great silhouette cast a heavy dredge of unease upon The Apostle, who stared up from 'neath its shadow. There was a wallowing pit of dread which swelled in her stomach and brought a lump to her throat, though she fought hard to suppress it. She remained wordless during their ascent, and as they drew towards the ruined gate, her breath hitched at the sound of crackling beneath her feet. She had trodden in a patch of numerous tiny bones, perhaps once belonging to a goblin or other small creature. Upon further inspection, it was not the sole instance of death, for many more of these small remnants were strewn randomly across patches of overgrowth.[/FONT]
She drew a long, short breath to settle her nerves, but the fleeting shadow brought her hair on end. She could only cry out as she was thrown to the floor by the Smuggler, though she would be eternally grateful thereafter.
The Apostle scrambled to unhitch her shield from her back plate as she was dragged to her feet, sheltering both herself and the Smuggler from the onslaught of arrows. Her entire body tremored from the pelting assault, and she made well to maintain her balance as they fled towards the stairs. Her eyes raised toward the archers, noting their frequent number, and the stone ledging which hovered overhead. An idea crossed her mind, though she only had a moment to ponder it, and she withdrew her sword from her hilt.
"Lux, ignis, iudex -- nng!" She tripped upward as she tried to lift her sword upward, falling up the staircase and twisting to hold her shield up in defense. When the arrows ceased for a brief moment, she lifted her sword into the air, and finished her incantation. "Holy smite!"
An immense light appeared above the goblins, and struck down with an electrifying bolt. The hit range was narrow and may not have directly hit any of the creatures, but the impact caused the overhang to crumble, and send dislodged stonework crashing down toward the archers below. Though she may have bought a safe window of time, some of the debris fell upon the stairs, possibly rendering retreat far more difficult than need be.
"Keep going!" She called upward, scrambling to her feet and making haste to catch up with the rest of her party. Her nerves ticked with adrenaline and fear, and for a moment, she felt invincible.
In only a few moments, everything had devolved into chaos. Arrows fell around them as the party rushed up the stairs, chasing after the goblin archers that rained arrows down from above. The members stopped momentarily when they noticed that the Apostle had lost her footing, the Warrior shielding her blind spots as more arrows pelted her shield. "I don't know how much more of this we can take!" They needed to come up with something... and fast. Luckily the Apostle was already on the case, raising her sword into the air and chanting some foreign words. A beam of light struck above and... did she miss? The Warrior cursed under her breath until she noticed the Apostle's true target.
When the overhang collapsed, several pieces of the debris smashed into the goblin archers below, crushing a few and sending the rest scattering. "Look out!" The Smuggler shouted, extra pieces of debris falling atop them. The Brawler managed to move up the stairs in the last moment, the large blocks of ruined battlements crashing into the staircase behind them. "Guess there's no going back now,"
The party continued to move onward, reaching the top of the wall before running across the battlements. The goblins were in full retreat now, running away as the heavily armored adventurers chased after them. "Get back here, you shitheads!" The Brawler charged ahead of the group, trying his best to catch the goblins before they could find a new vantage point to shoot from. They ran across the ruined walls for several moments, before dipping into a large turret and disappearing down a flight of stairs. "Come on! They went this way!" He pointed before following after them.
"Slow down, Brawler! You're too far ahead of us!" The Warrior shouted, to no avail. The adventurers followed him through the turret, only to see the top of his head as he was already reaching the bottom of the stairs. "Wait! That's a trap!"
"Idiot!" The Smuggler ran down after him, charging down the stairs after him. It wasn't long until the party found themselves in what appeared to be the dark halls of the castle. The scene was pitch black, the only source of light bleeding through the entrance from which they came. Vision was limited to only a few feet in front of them and none of the party members could even see the walls of the large room. An attack could come from any direction... and they wouldn't be able to do anything about it.
"Where are they?!" The Brawler growled, his sword raised. "I can't see a damned thing!"
"We need to get out of here. Now." The Smuggler whispered, biting her lip. "Warrior, stay and cover our retreat, everyone else start moving towards the door slowly-"
"They're just goblins! We can-" Before the Brawler could finish his sentence, a single arrow pierced through the darkness. There was no time to react and before anyone knew what was happening, the arrow found the poor man's throat. In the darkness, each adventurer was forced to stare in horror at the grotesque image in front of them: an arrow lodged firmly between the still-breathing man's throat.
"BRAWLER!" The Warrior screeched, tears filling her eyes as the large man fell to his knees. Blood began to gurgle and flow from his lips as he desperately held onto his throat, choking on a sea of his own blood. "HELP HIM!" The Warrior dropped her shield and hammer before falling to his side, crying and screaming.
"Leave him! He's fucking dead!" The Smuggler grabbed the Warrior, trying to pull her back as more arrows began to dart through the darkness. It was only a matter of time until another one of them would be hit. When the Warrior proved too strong for the Smuggler to overcome, she looked toward the only other party member left. "We're leaving!" The Smuggler grabbed the Apostle, before rushing toward the exit. Unlike the rest of this party, she knew a losing fight when she saw one... and she had no intentions of dying for something stupid.
Yet, as the Smuggler and Apostle made their way toward the exit, the light was suddenly blocked by a giant silhouette. A creature standing several feet taller than the both of them combined."No... it can't be,"The Smuggler stopped in her tracks, her face falling into an amalgamation of dread and fear."We have to fight that?"She muttered underneath her breath, realizing that they stood no chance of escape. "I'll... I'll distract it." The Smuggler turned to the Apostle, a sad expression stretched across her face. If they couldn't escape, perhaps one of them could leave and get help. "When I get its attention, you-"
What little hope of escape was snuffed out when the hobgoblin thrust its fist through the air, swatting the Smuggler several paces back and knocking her out immediately. It wouldn't take long until the Apostle would meet a similar fate...
The ensuing chaos throttled the Apostle's heartbeat into full swing, and even she did not falter as they filtered into the darkness. Her ears were ringing with the heat of her own pulse, and her lips parted to scream -- though no sound came out. The horror which followed buried her further in silence, and she skidded to a halt, watching with wide and tearful eyes as the Brawler fell.
"N-no..." She breathed, her breath hiccuping in fear as she watched blood gurgle and spatter from his mouth. She reached for her chime, though her hand trembled terribly. "I can... I can --"
Her motions were cut short as she was once again seized by the Smuggler, who had already resigned the Brawler to his death. She resisted, if only for a moment, but the Smuggler's intention were true. Heal, whilst being a true token, was a delicate and often timely charm which would have certainly resulted in the Apostle's own death if she had lingered to cast it. She looked over he shoulder as they ran, tears falling as the others faded out of view.
Her gaze returned to a repulsive, hulking figure. It's silhouette painted the doorway black, and the Apostle seemed to forget how to breathe.
"No!" Her focus was slapped back into force as the Smuggler was hurled through the air, and in a moment of haste, she raised her sword once more.
"Lux, ignis, iude-- !!" The hobgoblin took less than a moment to set its sights on the Apostle, and she was forced to lift her shield in anticipation. But she weighed far too little to withstand the beast's brute force, and she too was hurled into a rolling motion across the floor. The wind was knocked clean out of her and she hit the adjacent wall with a sickening crack.
The Apostle writhed in agony, gasping for air, and dropped her sword so that she could unfasten her breastplate and alleviate some of the dented pressure it applied to her chest. She rolled onto her back to gaze upward as the hobgoblin approached, though she could not will herself to stand. Her head swam and her vision darkened, and she soon succumbed to her slumbering fate.
The first thing that every adventurer must learn is that there are fates far worse than death.
The room was clouded under a veil of darkness, a single ray of light bleeding into the room. Were they in the same room that they had fought in, or had they been dragged somewhere deeper? It was difficult to tell where they were, or how long they had been there for. Perhaps if one of them were to escape, they could follow the light and escape the hell that they found themselves in, or perhaps they would simply meet death faster than they had anticipated.
The Apostle's slumber would eventually be awoken by a blood-curling scream. In her unconsciousness, her arms and legs had been bound together, leaving the adventurer helpless and incapable of flight. The Apostle wasn't dead just yet, but it wouldn't be long until she wished that she was, until she realized the horrible fate that would eventually befall her. As the blurriness gave way to clarity and the small traces of light finally brought vision back into her eyes, she would be met with an image that would be branded into her mind forever.
"STOP! PLEASE!" A voice screamed once again. Laying in front of the Apostle was the Warrior, tears filling her eyes as her frightened howls filled the air. What little light remained reflected over her pale silhouette, her flesh fully exposed as several goblins ripped what little clothes remained from her body. Her appeal to mercy fell on deaf ears as the goblins surrounded her, revealing their deranged manhoods to the defenseless adventurer. "NO! I'll do anything!" It wasn't long until the creatures jumped on the opportunity to rape their new captive, each one grabbing her and pressing her against the floor. Her wails became increasingly vibrant as the horrible creatures violated her chastity, something that she had once hoped to give to the Brawler when the time was right.
But now he was dead... and one by one, these creatures ravaged the warrior. Each one took turns using every one of her holes, sparing the defeated adventurer no mercy - for goblins were capable of none. Her screams continued to fill the silence as they buried their cocks deep inside of her, each one releasing their disgusting seed inside of her before allowing the next goblin to take her place.
Another wail would direct the Apostle's attention to the opposite end of the room. The Smuggler screeching in terror as she was pressed up against the wall. "STOP! STOOOOP!" She screeched in terror as the massive hobgoblin held her in place with a single hand. His massive shaft hung between the Smuggler's legs, a disgusting thing that surely tear the petite adventurer in half. "Help me!... Somebody HELP!" She begged, her voice hitching as her vocal chords reached their limit. Yet her fate was sealed, the massive creature smashing its hips into her as it defiled her from behind. The pain was unlike anything the poor Smuggler had ever felt before, the giant thing pressing deep inside of her, destroying her insides with every thrust. It felt that every time it plunged deeper inside of her that she would die... oh, how that would have been a mercy for her.
The rape of the Apostle's party members lasted nearly an hour, each goblin passing the two girls around the room like things to be played with. This was the fate of adventurers who would fall to goblins, a horrible fate with no light at the end of the tunnel. It wasn't until the goblins had grown bored that they noticed that the Apostle had awoken. A third plaything for the horrible creatures, the goblins jumped with glee and renewed excitement as they approached the Apostle, dragging her to the center of the room for her turn. The large hobgoblin that had raped the Smuggler now towered over the Apostle, its hands moving to tear off what clothes remained on the woman's body.
It wasn't long until she was bare... pinned down against the cold, dirty floor as the massive creature positioned itself over her. Was this the end?
In the silence of dark, the Apostle was gifted a dream; a fleeting moment of peace amidst the relentless turmoil. For a short time, she stood within the immense Pale Chamber of the Grand Cathedral, beholding the Pontiff as he closed one of his many stories.
"-- you will play Death for many a lesser creature, but when the dice fall against you, what will you do?"
Blue eyes flickered open, and the Apostle was projected back into her nightmare. She writhed a little, twisting so that she could lay on her side, and her head rang with pain. The scene before her took a short while to process as her vision cleared and allowed for the waning light to enter. The horror she then beheld was beyond any level of her imagination, and her wide gaze quickly filled with tears, her stomach twisting in frozen fear. What could she do? Her thoughts were filled with nought but terror as the Warrior's sanity was torn out from the inside, and though she could barely see the Smuggler from beneath the hobgoblin's grotesque silhouette, her screams brought vomit into the Apostle's throat.
Though awake, she had yet to make a sound, and as her eyes swept across the blackness of the chamber she took note of a slight glimmer several paces away from her. Her sword, along with her shield, had been thrown atop a pile of other loot no doubt ransacked from another party of unfortunate, trespassing souls. The Apostle looked towards her sword, then her party, and then back again before attempting to move. Even with bound hands, if she could just --
She fell forward, hitting the ground again with an awful clatter. Indeed, the goblins had been clever enough to bind her ankles too, and in falling over her armor had raised such a racket that every pair of eyes in the room turned to look her way. Her stomach sank, and her lip trembled.
"N-no... please --" her muttering was interrupted by the onslaught of lesser goblins, and she was dragged across the ground by her arms. "No! Get off!"
Her screams melded into wails as the lower portions of her armor were prised from her legs. However, in doing so, the goblins had unwittingly freed her ankles of their restrictions and she began to kick and flail, sending a small number of goblins staggering backward with impact. She gasped with panicked exhaustion and portions of her flesh became lacerated and abraded by the many claws which grasped at her. The commotion was prolonged, and her ceaseless sobbing soon attracted the full attention oh the hobgoblin, who proceeded heavily towards her.
They had made a terrible decision in coming here.
Her body froze, and her arms remained pinned by the colony. She stared wide-eyed at the Smuggler's assailant as it set its intentions upon her now, and every muscle in her body quaked with terror. Her undergarments were peeled from her form and the air was terribly cold against her now-bare flesh, and she could not bring herself to scream, resigning herself to silent dread as the hobgoblin leered over her.
The goblin behemoth cared little for the woman's sobbing, the terrible creature towering over the helpless Apostle. Her armor had been dispersed in pieces strewn across the floor, her skin made bare and vulnerable. It was her turn now. The creature prepared to ravage her... to destroy her mind and body in the same way it had violated the Smuggler. For goblins knew nothing about mercy, their minds only able to comprehend murder, pillage and of course, rape. The monster lumbered closer, it's disgusting hands aggressively grabbing at the flailing ankles of the woman beneath him and spreading them apart. It then positioned itself between them, the horrifying scent of blood and sex filling the air.
Yet, even in Hell, the Goddess protects.
From within the darkness, a new scream filled the air. For what had probably felt like an eternity, the Apostle heard the screams of her party members as they were raped. But this one would be foreign to her, for it did not emanate from a human, but rather a goblin. The Apostle's captors heard it as well and before the giant hobgoblin could torture her any further, its eyes were drawn in another direction. It was then that the Apostle could see light... a string of torches illuminating the darkness as if casting evil away.
From the darkness appeared two figures: one male... the other female. Though their faces were still difficult to see amidst the chaos, it was clear that they were adventurers, each one adorned in heavy armor not unlike what the Apostle donned. Yet there remained only two, in a sea of goblins that had so quickly defeated the Apostle's party. If they were not careful, they could easily meet the same fate all the same. The male, a tall man with ashen hair and wielding a long lance struck first; surging ahead and striking at the goblins that stood at his front. The creatures fell easily, three of them skewered like ragdolls upon the front of his spear. Goblin blood soaked the stone tile as more leaped from the darkness.
"Go!" The man shouted, tossing his torch to the ground so that he could grasp his weapon with two hands. As he began fighting the other goblins that assailed their rear, the mysterious woman leaped forward - charging directly toward the Apostle.
"Stay down!" She shouted, drawing up her sword as she fearlessly sprinted toward the Hobgoblin that towered above her. The creature grabbed its weapon, raising it in the air as it prepared to smash the woman into pieces. Yet such a sight did not dissuade the adventurer, who continued to charge with a fiery determination in her eyes. As she ran, she waved her hand over the cutting edge of her sword, "Lux, illustrant! Illuminate and cast away the darkness!"
Before the creature could smash away the smaller woman, a blinding light momentarily flashed from her sword, causing the creature's attack to only catch the air. "Fall, beast!" She cried, leaping through the air before sticking the blade through the creature's face. The blade passed easily through its brain, instantly felling the hobgoblin with a single strike. The large creature fell with a resounding thud, causing the remaining goblins to panic and take flight. Yet none of the foul creatures would escape, for their elaborate trap only had a single exit... which was blocked by the spear-wielder. It wasn't long until every goblin had fallen, butchered to the last by the two adventurers.
"We have two survivors, my Prince." The blonde haired woman stood over the Smuggler, who had not survived her encounter with the massive hobgoblin. She immediately sheathed her sword, clasping her hands together so that she may pray for the fallen damsel. "Goddess, O' merciful Goddess, please show us your mercy and guide the fallen to an eternal peace."
The Prince sighed, kneeling down beside the Apostle. With a knife, he cut the binds that held her arms together. "Are you okay?" He asked softly, removing his cloak before draping it over the frightened woman's shoulders. "Can you walk?" He noted the bruises on her ankles, no doubt from the goblins' torture. Even if she could walk, he knew that the trauma was probably too much for the young woman to bear. "Sword Saint."
"Yes, my Prince?"
"Collect what you can find and help bring the other survivor to the wagon. I'll take this one." He placed one arm behind the Apostle's back and another beneath her legs, lifting her from the ground and cradling her in his arms.
"...and what do you want me to do with the bodies?" There was a slight hint of annoyance in her voice. Though the Apostle probably couldn't detect it, watching the Prince carry another woman was nothing short of infuriating for the Sword Saint.
"We have to burn the castle, we don't know if there's more of them. Pray for the other one and begin the preparations." He carried the Apostle out of the castle, before taking her down into the courtyard they had come from. "You're safe now. Is there anywhere you'd like us to take you after this?"
"We each owe a death. It is the only certainty of life.
You may fear it, or yearn for it --"
The Apostle's eyes were captured by dancing lights and inhuman distress, and her heart fell heavy with sodden relief as a figure burst from the dark and cut her assailant down. Blood spattered downward and hit her naked flesh, and she recoiled with a whimper, pushing herself to the side so that the behemoth would not crush her as it fell. Her watery gaze lifted to behold the Sword Saint, and her lips parted with shaken breath.
"-- alas, dearest acolyte, this is not your time."
"S-Sister..." she stuttered, awkwardly shifting in a slow attempt at sitting upright. She recognised the Sword Saint's garb immediately, along with the insignia of her ties to the Goddess. She sobbed quietly amidst the slaughter, almost believing that the Goddess had answered her during that moment. The woman's soft prayer to the fallen drew her attention downward, and she choked on her own tears at the sight of the Smuggler's body, immediately subjecting herself to self-blame. She then pondered the Novice Warrior's fate, and searched the room for her, feeling grim relief at the sight of the slighted woman's chest rising and falling with every defeated breath. She lay helplessly in the dark and filth. "Help her, please."
The Apostle had been terribly lucky, by comparison.
The feeling of her arms being freed redirected her attention, and she looked to the Prince with wide eyes. Only when she he cloaked her did she realise her own exposure - bare-skinned and riddled with cuts - and she pulled the cloak tightly around her chest.
"I... I think so." She moved to stand at his question, but her head span and her ankles clicked at the sudden weight, deeply bruised by the prior abuse. She staggered, but he had caught her balance, lifting her into the air. She was terribly embarrassed by her condition, but was ultimately stunned by the concept of her party's bodies being burned along with the nest. She looked mournfully towards her fallen comrades as they left, though her tears had run dry.
I'm sorry. I'm sorry.
Her attention was netted briefly by the glimmer of the Prince's bronze tag. She would be eternally grateful following her recovery, but for now, her words seemed spent. The question of where she'd like to go from here played at her mind, and for a moment she considered returning to the Cathedral. But how could she? She had travelled days to fulfil her dreams of adventuring, but...
"The Guild, please" her voice was small, cracked and dry from exertion. "I need to hand in a report, and... and start again."
The Prince was rather taken aback by the Apostle's request. "The Guild? But you're in no state to..." he paused for a moment, no doubt her answer was some sort of trauma-induced delirium. "Alright. We'll take you back to the Guild," he carried the Apostle through the gates of the castle. Waiting in front of them was a large carriage, adorned with the regal colors of blue and gold; the colors of the royal family. "Tomorrow morning," he added, opening the door to the carriage before setting the Apostle down into one of the seats. "Tonight, you'll stay in the Royal Palace as my guest." Though the Apostle was probably eager to take on another quest, there was simply no way the Prince could allow her to do that. At least, not in her present condition.
The Prince settled down in the seat across from the Apostle, "I am the Crown Prince of these lands. One day, I may inherit this kingdom... and I hope to protect those that find themselves in danger," he flashed the terrified woman a humble smile. It was then that the Sword Saint had arrived, carrying the unconscious Warrior in her arms. She had wrapped the woman in several blankets, setting her down in the open space beside the Prince, "I'm sure you are familiar with the Saints of your Cathedral?"
"A pleasure, fellow Sister. I hope that you are unharmed?" She asked curtly. There was something strange about her eyes, which illuminated an alluring, vibrant shade of scarlet. "I am the Sword Saint, like the other Saints, I have undertaken a vow of chastity and service to the Goddess in exchange for her power and guidance." She explained, bowing from the entrance of the carriage. It seemed that even when naked, the Saint was capable of spotting a servant of her church from a mile away. Or perhaps she had simply found some of the Apostle's many belongings strewn across the field of battle.
"I have invited your fellow sister to stay with us for the night," the Prince explained, "I believe that would be the best for her-"
"But my Prince..." The Sword Saint's scarlet pools narrowed, a sudden glare pointing off in the Apostle's direction. "The guest rooms are all filled with visitors for the Royal Banquet..."
"I was thinking that she could stay with you, just for the night."
"I see. If that is what the Prince commands, then I will take care of her." Her ephemeral glare soon dissipated, a friendly smile etched across her face, "Perhaps I can teach the young sister a thing or two in swordplay? She might find my lessons useful." She nodded, "would you like to learn how to properly wield your sword?" From behind, she revealed the Apostle's steel longsword, returned to its leather sheath. She handed the sword off to her, before turning to the Prince. "The preparations are almost complete. I only need a few more minutes" It wasn't long until the Sword Saint disappeared, back into the darkness of that horrible castle.
Tomorrow? Royal Palace? The Apostle's head throbbed. The sudden realisation of just who was addressing her finally latched on, and her fingers curled into the fabric of the cloak, leaning her head downward in a shamed bow.
"Forgive me, Your Highness, you've done more than enough already," she began, her words spilling hastily from her mouth. She cursed her stammering and her physical presentation; this had not been a day where she was expecting to encounter royalty. "I can... I can find a place to stay, I'm sure."
Her gaze flickered up to the Sword Saint, and her lips parted at the sight of the Novice Warrior; bruised and tormented, but alive, nonetheless. She fought back tears at the very sight of her, but felt a dredge of relief wash over her. "Thank you, sister." She breathed, ever grateful for her intervention. "I have always admired the Saints. I am the Apostle, named so by the Pontiff. I set out to find my cause, as he once did, but..."
Though there was an undeniable allure to the Sword Saint's demeanour, there was the slightest tick behind her pooling eyes which seemed to press at the Apostle's sense of alarm. The concept of staying the night in her presence was unnerving, but a sister of the church would surely consider no harm. Alas, there was no denying the unease in the pit of her stomach. Such notions were briskly washed away with the presentation of her sword; though the blade itself was a pleasant surprise, the chime which hung from its hilt made her heart skip a beat.
"Thank goodness... I -- thank you, dear Sister." She bowed her head once more, clutching the sword and chime close to her chest. Though she could scarcely use it for now, the chime was an artefact of the church -- both a catalyst and amplifier of holy charms. She would not forgive herself for losing such a thing. "It would be an honour to train with you."
"We'd made a terrible mistake..." She uttered, watching as the Sword Saint disappeared into the shadows once more. "If only we'd given it more time."
She lingered on these thoughts, but even she knew well that even with all the planning in the world, the outcome would not have been much different. They had been fledglings, barely acquainted with their flight feathers; a large colony such as this should have never attracted them in the first place. The Apostle folded her arms even tighter, preserving whatever modesty she still had left.
The Prince waved his hand, "We all make mistakes, dear Apostle. Both I and the Sword Saint have failed countless times." He began, running his hand through ashen locks, "The Saint was once a witch, who learned the error of her ways and repented. Now she protects those that cannot protect themselves." The tale of the Sword Saint was an interesting one indeed, but he decided that it was best not to dwell upon the failures of the past. For now, they had to look towards a brighter future and the Apostle's wounds would need time to heal. One day, perhaps, the fledgling would learn to properly fly.
Some time passed until the Sword Saint reemerged from the castle, placing some bags of equipment on the back of the carriage before peeking through the doorway. "We're good to go." Her words were answered with a short nod by the Prince and the door to the carriage was shut. Small thuds could be heard as the Sword Saint mounted the top of the carriage and grabbed the reins to the horses that towed it.
"Tell me, Apostle. What made you leave the Cathedral and take up the life of an adventurer?" He asked, though her answer was probably something predictable, he felt that it would be a good start nonetheless. "Do you seek power? Adventure, perhaps?" Many adventurers sought the same as her... and many adventurers met terrible fates in search of glories and riches that didn't exist.
The carriage ride lasted for only a few hours until the group had once again entered the city limits. The warm embrace of civilization was marked by tall walls, spiraled arches and of course, people. For those who couldn't fight, civilization was safety, a place where they could hide away from the true horrors of the world, many of which the Apostle had witnessed first hand. As the carriage rolled through the city, Oliver turned his attention to a small opening where light poured through. He placed his hand against the window as he stared longingly into the city streets beyond. One day, this would all be his... and he would be trusted to protect everything and everyone. But first, he had to find out how to protect himself.
"It shouldn't be long, now." The Prince remarked as the carriage made its way down the city streets and up towards the palace that towered above the city. It was a small world hidden away from the rest of the city, a place where the royal family and the nobles managed the kingdom in secret. Many people knew very little about those that ruled them and even less about the Prince who had taken up the life of an adventurer. Eventually, the carriage rolled into the courtyard of the palace and the Sword Saint disembarked, opening the door for the Prince and the Apostle.
As the pair stepped off of the carriage, the Prince glanced back at the woman still inside. The warrior, still unconscious and trembling, "My guards will have her delivered to the Cathedral. She needs medical attention that we cannot provide for her here," the Prince frowned, "She'll be safer there. Perhaps she may find a new purpose in life as well." As several guards entered the courtyard, they each bowed before their Prince before moving toward the carriage. "Come, the sun is beginning to fall, but we have things that must be done." The Prince led the trio up the marble steps to the palace before being welcomed by the many attendants that stood at the entrance.
"Welcome home, your Highness." A maid bowed before the group, "The guests for the royal banquet have already arrived and are expecting you."
"Sorry, we were a little caught up. I will apologize to them myself." The Prince turned back to the Sword Saint, "Do you think you could show the Apostle around? I'm sure she could use a warm bath and a meal." His soft eyes then transitioned toward the Apostle, "I hope you don't mind. Royal duty calls me." He then went ahead of the group, followed by a large number of servants as the Prince disappeared around a nearby corner.
The Sword Saint sighed, "Come with me." She mumbled, before moving into the palace and turning in the opposite direction. "Don't get lost."
"I seek... Purpose, I think." Even the Apostle was unsure of her desires, even having come so far. "We'd heal the sick within the church, such was our task, but... I had always admired the paladins and their travels. It's a feeble ambition, I suppose, but I did not want to belong to the Cathedral forever."
Considerable time had passed since the Apostle had set foot within the centre of the city, having few reasons to do so. The bustling populace was charming, and she stared in wide-eyed wonder as the shadow nigh swallowed them whole. The iron pyres and alabaster carvings spoke tomes of nobility, but beneath it's glow lingered a peculiar, eerie air which stirred an ill feeling within the Apostle's stomach. Perhaps it was the age of the building, combined with the already disheveled state of the Apostle. What was she doing here?
Before exiting the carriage, she placed a hand atop the Warrior's own, glad to feel that it still had some warmth to it. The Cathedral was, indeed, the best place for her to be, and for a moment she pondered attending there herself. Alas, whether out of obligation to the Prince's wishes or mere morbid curiosity, the Apostle hopped down to the floor, ensuring she remained cloaked throughout the short fall. She uttered a short prayer, bidding farewell to the unconscious woman and wondering if she would ever see her again.
The Palace interior was far more grandiose than she had expected, and she was fully aware of her current state, feeling ever embarrassed by her condition within royal presence. Bare footed, bruised, and clutching naught more than a sword, she shied away from the prying eyes of servants and did little more than bow her head as the Prince dismissed himself from view. Her gaze snapped towards the Sword Saint as she heard her sigh, and she quickly set to following her, initiating with a slight jog to catch up.
She felt terrible, and awkward. Her eyes settled upon the back of the Sword Saint's head as she followed, before drifting to the carpeted floor.
"Does... Does this happen often?" She asked, perhaps trying to justify her being here. There was an ominous scent to the air, like a dredge of uninvited shadow, but she had only ever learned to trust her divine sister.
"Does what happen often?" The Sword Saint rolled her eyes, her portrait fixated forward as she spoke. "The Prince helps those when he can, that's always how he's been," she hid the annoyance in her voice well, staying several paces ahead of the Apostle as she led her through the labyrinth that was the Imperial Palace. "But bringing an adventurer to the Palace, this isn't something he does often. Perhaps he has simply taken a liking to you, Sister." Her brows furrowed at the very thought, but now was not the time to give into jealousy. Eventually, the pair arrived at the Royal Baths, marked by a large pair of doors that towered above them. "Here we are."
She pushed through the door, revealing a gorgeous portrait. A spacious room of marble and gold, a circular mass of water set beneath a grand water fountain. Surrounding the baths were no less than twelve marble pillars, interspersed evenly and adorned with gold and fresh oak leaves. Dancing through the water were the petals of nearly a hundred, scarlet roses - each of which matched the color of the Sword Saint's stern eyes. The Saint waited for the Apostle to enter the room before shutting the door behind her and locking it. She then placed her hands upon the Apostle's shoulder. "May I, Sister?" She waited for the Apostle to reply before slowly removing the cloak which covered her naked form.
"Every morning I bless these baths with the Goddess' light, so the water has some healing properties." She explained, before beckoning her forward, "Go ahead, Sister." She moved her hands to her own armor, dislodging her metal breastplate before promptly disrobing. Once the Sword Saint was equally barren, the female silhouette moved closer to the water, dipping her feet into the warmness before stepping inside. "It's always so nice and warm in here. I'd be lying if I said I haven't fallen asleep in here." She grinned, trudging through the water as she drew closer to the Apostle. "May I ask you a question, dear Sister?" For such a spacious bath, one could only wonder why the Sword Saint was gravitating so close to the Apostle. She moved closer still, until the exposed flesh of her breasts hovered dangerously close to the Apostle's own.
She leaned closer, until her lips hovered only inches away from the Apostle. Scarlet kaleidoscopes gleamed carefully into sapphire gemstones, watching intently as both women could feel the opposite's breath upon their face. "I want to know... what you think of the Prince." She muttered softly, as if exchanging dangerous secrets between lips. "You see, I was like you once. I'm sure the Prince told you how I was once a witch. But did he tell you that the church wanted to burn me at the stake? I prayed to the Goddess for mercy, I promised I would do anything for just one more chance... it was then that the young Prince arrived and pardoned me without a second thought."
The Saint placed one hand upon the Apostle's breast, the other gently clasping the side of her face. "That boy is very dear to me. So much so that I undertook a vow so that I may always protect him." As she spoke, tears began to well from within the Saint's eyes, "But there's something... something that you must swear to keep secret." Her voice quivered, "The Prince... he's... he's unwell... and there's nothing that I can do to help him..."
The Apostle slowly drew away, her hands clenched into tight fists. "I need your help, dear Sister. I know you can't cure him, but you must help me ease his pain." She took both of the Apostle's hands into hers, clasping them together. "Please, Sister. I would be forever in your debt..."
Blue eyes cast upon stained windows and carved alabaster, and lips briefly parted at the organic light and the subtle aromas that carried with it. The Apostle was truly taken aback, reminded starkly of the sacred pools beheld at the church; alas, it was forbidden to touch the water there. Only with permission did she move forward, so distracted by the ambient glimmer that she did not pay much heed to either her own or the Sword Saint's nudity. He feet dipped into the water carefully, and she hissed through her teeth at the initial sensation as the water pooled around her reddened flesh. The initial sting soon settled, however, and as she submerged herself, she could feel the blessed water begin to gently coddle her wounds. The bath reached her naval, and she leaned over slightly as to rub the water into the abrasions on her shoulders. Her breath quivered, and for a moment, her mind fell completely vacant.
"I... um..." she tripped over her own voice at the Sword Saint's approach, and she stumbled back through the water until her rear pressed against the edge of the bath. She had heard quiet rumors surrounding the church's affinity for stakes, but... "He's sick?" She spoke quietly. Their closeness sent her heartbeat into disarray, and goosebumps prickled upon her flesh. Her breath hitched at the feeling of the Sword Saint's touch, and she turned her reddening face into her hand. "This whole place seems... sick, sister. I owe you my life, but what -- what could I possibly do for him that you cannot?"
Beyond the confines of the holy waters they bathed in, the Apostle could almost smell the disease in the air. Yet it seemed ominous, and almost... alive. It was something she purposely neglected to mention, lest she offend their hospitality.
"I was little more than acolyte, sister," she met her eyes again, her fingers lacing together in the woman's hands, "but I will do what I can to help him."
Her voice was laced in nervousness, but her words were sincere, feeling ever indebted to the pair who saved her life.
The Sword Saint ignored the Apostle's reservations, hanging only on the Apostle's most recent words, "Oh, thank you, Sister!" She smiled, pleased that the Apostle had been convinced by her words. "I will show you tonight how you may assist me, for now, we should focus on your own recovery." Indeed, the Apostle was correct in noticing the strange aura that filled the palace, the demonic influence which lurched ever forward. It was an unsettling feeling, though the Sword Saint was impressed that the inexperienced Apostle could notice such a slight thing. Deep down, the Saint pitied the kind Apostle, who was perhaps far more saintly than she would ever truly be. Yet, the Saint cared only for the Prince... and she would allow even the Goddess to rot if it meant protecting him.
The Saint retreated backward, finally returning the Apostle's personal space back to her. "Bathe now, allow your wounds to heal. I will fetch you new clothes in the meantime." The Saint dipped her face into the holy water, before turning toward the steps behind her. "Don't linger for too long, or you may fall asleep." She rose from the water, finding a nearby towel to dry herself with before she set herself upon getting dressed. "I trust you're not picky about what clothes you wear?" She smiled before disappearing from the room.
She would return twenty minutes later, her hands carrying a set of fresh clothes for her sister. "Here." The Sword Saint placed the clothing down upon a nearby bench. "It was perhaps the only clean thing I could find in your size. I hope you don't mind." Upon the bench lay a sapphire dress that matched the Apostle's eyes, the quality of which, would have been fit for any noblewoman. The silk skirt would fall just above the Apostle's knees and the slender bodice would accentuate the Apostle's slimness. "It's been sitting in my closet for some time now. You can have it, if you'd like," she waited for her sister to leave the water and dry herself before holding the piece up for her. "It seems the Goddess has made us twins, for we are practically the same size." She chuckled, before handing the dress over to the Apostle.
Once dressed, the Saint flashed her sister a genuine smile. "It looks lovely on you. Blue has never been my color." She turned towards the doors, before beckoning the Apostle to follow. "The banquet should end in a few hours. Until then, I can teach you the basics of swordplay, or we can find you something to eat."
The Apostle exhaled a long, quiet breath as the Sword Saint broke away from her, and sank further down into the water. The surface lapped around her neck and after long last, the shallow cuts which peppered her began to tingle and close, leaving the slightest impression as to where they once were. Her head leaned back against the edge of the bath, and pale eyes cast upon the eloquently decorated ceiling. She reflected on the day's events, her brows furrowing at the thought of the Brawler and Smuggler. Her psyche threatened to dip into a pit of self-blame, but her pondering had lasted too long, and she startled at the sound of the door opening once more.
She lifted herself from the bath upon noticing the dress, drying herself with the remaining towel as she approached, bare feet padding against the floor. "Sister, I surely can't..." despite everything, she hadn't expected the garment to be quite so upper-class. She ran her fingertips across the material, holding it in her arms. Her church had always promoted modesty, and her now-scattered armor was by far the biggest investment she had made in attire. She had never once owned a standard dress, much less one of such embellishments. "Thank you, for all your kindness. It's beautiful."
She pulled it over her head, fumbling to fasten the ties behind her and performing a half-twirl to watch how the skirt fell above her knees. She felt oddly feminine, and as she always had done, she deeply admired its rich blue sheen. But despite everything, the concept of the Prince's sickness weighed heavy at the back of her mind, constantly contemplating what kind of ominous sickness could leave the Sword Saint so distraught.
"Swordplay?" She looked up from her feet attentively, briefly glancing towards her sword which leaned up by the door. Though her wounds had closed, her appetite would take time to heal, and her mind was captured by the concept of learning from one such as a Saint. Indeed, if the Apostle had only known how to better handle a sword, then... "If it's no trouble to you, I'd be honored to learn whatever you can teach me." Her hands clasped in front of her, her eyes wide with grateful hope.
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