All Things Born Must Mortal Be | O/M

Join date : 2013-09-27 Age : 31 Location : Canada <3

Spoiler:

Dappled sunlight fell across the forest floor, illuminating the snowy corridor. Everything was still; a quiet and peaceful winter afternoon. For a time. Underfoot, the snow crunched and cracked, reduced to bits and pieces under the weight of the white beast upon which the warrior rode. Hooves thundered through the snow, soon reduced to a mush of crushed pine needles and hoof prints. The knight clad in white armour was in the lead, pursued by a group of ten or so soldiers. The silver sword upon the knight’s back glimmered dangerously in the sunlight, the crimson liquid running along its edge clear in the golden light.

The knight had not anticipated this form of retaliation; the mission had been completed, yet an ambush had waited at the gates of the enemy stronghold. Not a scouting party; too heavy armed. Not reinforcements; no one knew of the knight’s mission save for a scant few. Perhaps one of the contacts had snitched in exchange for bribe money. Most troublesome. An investigation into the matter would be necessary once the mission report was completed back in the capital. For now…there were more pressing issues to deal with. There had been 20 of the soldiers initially; half of them had been cut down by the knight during the course of the pursuit.

The White Knight Coronis, merciless blade of the Holy Aurellic Empire, was not a force to be taken lightly. Renowned for his brutality, the fearsome knight had become the stuff of legend across the land. A visit from Coronis was said to always bring death, even in dreams. Some say the knight did not speak because his tongue had been cut out by the Empire, while still others claimed the armour contained no man, but rather a vengeful spirit. Regardless, the rumours did have some precedent. By many, the White Knight was known as the executioner of the Empire, passing ‘justice’ on its enemies by way of his blade. He travelled deep into enemy territory and Imperial lands alike, slaughtering everything from platoons of soldiers to entire noble families in cold blood.

The Holy Aurellic Empire would point its finger, and Coronis would strike without hesitation, killing everything in his path. That was the public consensus, anyway, and anyone who had witnessed Coronis fight was more than eager to concur. In spite of his infamy, no one had ever seen Coronis without his armour; many postulated that his body was so horribly scarred, he never removed the armour. The White Knight never uttered a word either. He was a mystery; enemy to all and friend to none. Assuming ‘he’ was a ‘he’ at all.

Coronis pulled the reins sharply to the right, driving the horse onward into the dense thicket of trees. Arrows stuck deep into the wood of the trees around the knight, galloping through the forest at breakneck speed. Another sharp right, and the knight vanished into a thicket of dense pines. The silver sword slid effortlessly through the necks of the trio of soldiers in the back of the platoon as the White Knight came careening out of the trees, cutting a swath straight through the group of soldiers. Behind him, Coronis heard the soldiers give chase again, the hooves’ of their steeds thundering through the forest.

A blazing pain erupted across his shoulder; an arrow protruded from a gap in the white-plated armour, embedded deep in the flesh. His steed was becoming tired; it would only be so long before the soldiers caught up to him, and if they were in range to use bows…he needed to end this confrontation, once and for all. Coronis urged his steed forward, directing the tired beast to a distant point ahead, where the trees appeared to thin out.

The forest opened out onto a vast, rushing river, a long, wooden bridge acting as the only path across. A line of archers were positioned near the mouth of the bridge, preparing to notch their arrows. They had been herding him intentionally in this direction. Clever; perhaps he had underestimated his opponents. Rather than slowing, the White Knight urged his steed on even more, charging towards the line of archers at a full gallop. They held fast for a few moments, before doubt took hold and some of them panicked, loosing their arrows prematurely. They flew right past the White Knight, only one finding its mark in the Knight’s right arm. The horse soared over the heads of the archers, landing on the wooden bridge with a firm ‘THUD’ and losing only minimal speed.

Alas, halfway across the bridge, it became apparent there were even more soldiers awaiting on the opposite end. The White Knight slowed the white steed to a halt, glancing backwards to find the pursuing party closing in. Their leader rode in the front; he seemed vaguely familiar, however not enough to trigger a memory immediately. Coronis dismounted from his horse and gave it a light smack, sending the creature trotting towards the end of the bridge. The White Knight turned to face the approaching leader. He raised the silvery sword high above his head…and brought the blade down hard against the wooden planks of the bridge. The force of the blow rippled through the planks, snapping them like toothpicks.

As the shockwave extended across the bridge, large chunks of it broke away, plunging into the torrent of water below. The White Knight gripped onto one of these as it struck the water, using the large chunk of planks as a makeshift raft. Meanwhile, the remainder of the bridge rapidly collapsed, forcing the soldiers to retreat back to the shore. All except one. Apparently determined not to lose his prey, the leader of the soldiers followed Coronis’ lead, riding the broken planks down into the waters. Once it hit the water, the leader of the soldiers began leaping between the former chunks of the bridge, making his way over to the White Knight.

The White Knight got to his feet on the plank, turning to face the leader of the soldiers. Steel ground against steel as their swords met, sparks flying up as the sharp edges met. Coronis broke the stalemate, stepping back and making a broad sweep at his enemy’s legs. The man dodged it, countering the maneuver. The macabre dance of steel carried on without pause; they were evenly matched, meeting blow for blow with each strike. Whenever one of them landed a hit, the other would shortly follow. By the time either of them noticed the end of the river, it was far too late.

The White Knight made a wide, sweeping arc towards his enemy’s side, his blade biting neatly through the man’s armour and into his flesh. In return, his enemy brought his sword down upon Coronis’ shoulder, piercing between the plates smoothly. Ignoring the searing pain across his shoulder, the White Knight gripped the blade of the man’s sword in one gauntlet, and ripped it out of his shoulder, as well as right out of the man’s grasp. Coronis tossed the man’s sword aside and punched him in the gut, sending him sprawling backwards across the wooden surface.

The White Knight approached the man, stepping on his chest as he attempted to get up. The Knight’s silver sword grazed the man’s throat, its tip nestling just under his chin. Coronis remained there for a moment, before pulling the sword away and sheathing it. He stepped off of the man’s chest and turned around, striding to the end of the wooden platform with the intent of jumping off onto a rock before the structure careened over the oncoming waterfall…however his plans were cut short.

The pair of them went crashing into the icy cold waters as the man tackled the knight from behind. Then, quite abruptly, the two of them were falling through empty air, plummeting down into the foggy mist below along with tons upon tons of water. The White Knight struggled against the man’s grasp, exchanging several blows with him as they fell further and further down. Bits of the white-plated armour ripped violently away as the Knight’s hip collided with a rock, followed by the Knight’s shoulder. After what seemed like an eternity, the man and knight hit the water.

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With a violent coughing fit, Ain crawled her way onto shore, gasping for breath as she ejected the water from her lungs. The winter wind felt like knives, cutting right through her soaked clothes to assault her skin. She needed to find shelter and get warm before she froze to death. The young woman climbed to her feet, stripping away the remaining chunks of her armour. It was mostly destroyed now, the white-plates dented and bent beyond repair. She tossed the remnants back into the river. Thankfully, her swords and her travelling clothes had survived the descent. She could use the cloth parts of the armour as bandages for her wounds, at the very least.

Ain cast her gaze across the landscape; the river had carried her quite a distance from the waterfall. She recognized the terrain. She could make it to the closest village before the sun set if she hurried; she wouldn’t last a night out in these conditions without proper supplies. The young woman was just wrapping up the silver sword in a protective cloth when she noticed the little patch of armour floating at the edge of the bank. It was from that man’s uniform; the enemy soldier she had fought. Her gaze followed across the surface of the water. Sure enough, she glimpsed the body caught up in the roots of a tree near the side of the river.

Cautiously, the young woman approached the body…the man was unconscious. After a minute or so, Ain made a decision. Dropping her gear onto the snow nearby, the young woman climbed down into the riverbank and wrapped her arms around the man’s upper torso. She pulled him up and out of the embankment, onto the snow beside her gear. He had suffered some injuries during the fall; nothing life-threatening, so long as they were treated. She paused as her gaze swept over his face, that sense of familiarity returning to her. He would die from the cold if she left him there.

A sigh escaped Ain’s lips; she wrapped her tunic around her cold upper body and secured her swords at her side. First things first, sanctuary was in order. The young woman hefted the man onto her back with minimal difficulty, a frown meeting her lips as she considered the fact she was giving a piggyback ride to the man who had attempted to kill her less than two hours ago. Hopefully he would die during the night, otherwise the next morning was going to be awkward as hell.

Spoiler:

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It had taken longer than anticipated for her to reach the small riverside town; the man had slowed her down more than she had expected. She could hardly feel her arms or legs by the time she stiffly kicked open the door to the inn, thoroughly startling the innkeeper. Thankfully, the woman was more than eager to provide a room, considering they hardly ever received visitors, as well as medical supplies and some spare clothes once Ain spun up a story about bandits in the woods.

Up in the room, Ain laid the man onto one of the two beds and stripped off everything but his undergarments. After stoking up a fire in the little fireplace within the room, she hung the clothes up to dry, repeating the procedure for her own clothes. Once the room was nice and toasty, she set to work cleaning and dressing the man’s wounds, then her own. The entire procedure took the better part of two hours, yet the man remained unconscious for the entirety of it.

Ain pulled the clothes the innkeeper had provided for her on; a simple white dress, formerly owned by the innkeeper’s daughter. It would suffice until her own were dry. The clothes the innkeeper had provided for the man still lay at the end of the bed, near his feet.. He wasn’t at risk of perishing due to the cold anymore, so he could put on his own clothes once he was awake as far as she was concerned.

Ain approached the second bed, retrieving one of her two swords from on top of the covers. While the silver one was currently wrapped up tightly (as the man would no doubt become aggressive right away if he recognized it), the second was loose. The weapon was spear-like in shape, though possessed the functionality of a sword. The hilt was a deep emerald green, leading into an intricate gold pattern, and a blackened blade; Durandal, it was dubbed, according to her family history.

She lifted up the heavy sword and carried it over to the fireplace, taking a seat in the armchair sitting in front of the fire. She placed the sword into her lap and set to work running a whetstone along the length of the blade, steadily sharpening and polishing the metal. It was simply a matter of waiting now. Once the man was awake, she could depart in good faith. If all went well, she would not be required to kill him after all.

[OOC: As you could probably tell, Ain is the White Knight Coronis, whom your character was attempting to brutally murder, either for revenge or due to orders. Either way, the White Knight is pretty much a bloody menace to your character’s country, so he would have a good reason to despise ‘him’. Of course, your character does not find out Ain’s identity until much later.
Anyway, I figured Ain and your character would agree to travel together to another nearby town before parting ways, however the circumstances change by the time they reach the next town. In exchange for giving the man the White Knight’s sword, Ain requests for the man to accompany her to the capital city of his kingdom. Basically, Ain has been ordered to use your character to get into the capital, seek out the royal family, and assassinate the ‘tyrant’ king. Along the way, they get mixed up in a bunch of little things like helping out villagers, chasing off bandits, looking for lost children, etc., and Ain begins to doubt her orders. From there…I dunno, I imagine there may be a worldwide crisis of some sort that may need some solving eventually, lol.
The world is feudal/medieval-styled, with optional magic (if you want a magical character, go nuts XD). Basically, the only two races in the world are humans and Ferals. Ferals have different species, like felines and canines. For instance, Ain is a feline Feral. Multiple kingdoms exist throughout the world, however the dominant kingdom is currently the Holy Aurellic Empire, a domineering power headed by feline ferals. The Empire holds tentative alliances with its neighbours, yet is constantly seeking to take over new land, often butting heads with the other powerful kingdoms in the land. The Empire is particularly notorious for sending the Eight (highly skilled warriors reputed and feared across the land) into countries of interest to cause havoc under the guise of enacting ‘justice’. Basically, the Empire is a dick, lol.
Anyways, thanks for reading and please let me know if you have any questions or are interested ^-^]