Vestige
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"It's fine. I think we can all appreciate the circumstances you were in after all. A couple of squandered fruits and broken carts isn't worth more than a man's life... but just try to do your due diligence in the future," he said. "In any event, I suppose since I'm not too busy at the moment I'll go have a chat with the general before I forget," he said, nodding farewell to the two ladies. "Either of you are free to come along if you wish--else enjoy the rest of your morning," he said, turning to go. Alain heads to Tarasque's Tent
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He wasn't quite sure what to make of Claire's question. It was an odd one to be sure, but one that apparently was worth enough weight on Claire's mind to ask. He tilted his head upwards, deliberating a bit on an answer. "Not quite... There was one time early on when I first started experimenting with dark magic where I felt as though I had cast a spell that was not my own, but it's been some time since then... " he said, recalling his first true success with Balor. "That's about the extent of my experience with such things. Though if I recall correctly, you were studying illusions with that old sack of skin were you not? Perhaps this is the side-effect of meddling with Malaphar's craft. Or perhaps this is a ploy by Constance to slowly erase your mind and steal your body," he shrugged. "I jest of course... " Thought I wouldn't really put it past her. "All that being said, you ought to be careful with whatever it is you've been trying to do lately. This whirlwind... and that inferno at the church--without a tome no less. You'd best practice such things on your own time where other people are not liable to be caught in the way," he chided. "Perhaps you're a bit smitten with what Malaphar has shown himself to be capable of, but don't lose sight of yourself as you try to follow his path," he said, echoing a bit of what he'd told Acollon just moments before.
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"Hmm, I see. That is quite troubling," he said, rubbing the back of his head. Just because Ethel claimed to want to liberate Myrcia from Deira's occupation, didn't mean all of her soldiers were necessarily on the same page. That still doesn't explain all of this mess though. But... With Claire moping about, he had a sneaking suspicion about the reason--though he decided against commenting on it. Good thing Cassandra isn't here. Crisis averted... "With an army of this size, there are bound to be a few bad apples that slip into the bunch. As long as nobody was killed it's about all you can ask for, really. But perhaps I'll have a chat with General Tarasque about keeping her men in line. It's a poor reflection upon our army for men to be terrorizing the civilians. I'm sure Tarasque will understand that. Else, I'll have to give the man a stern speaking to myself. I don't suppose he gave you a name, did he? Perhaps you can describe him for me?" he asked.
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Alain shrugged, not entirely impressed by Accolon's convictions. Whatever peace you aim to achieve will never last. "It's funny--you're trying to warn me without considering that I might already be aware about what he wants from me. Yes, the demon told me as much himself, but I thank you for your sentiment," he replied, heading towards the arch-way from where he came. "Just pray that you do not find yourself on a path astray as you chase after those whom you wish to save. You may one day regret allowing me to live," he said, leaving Accolon with a parting wave before exiting the chapel. It appeared Eric was still meandering about, speaking with the priest. "I'll be seeing you then, Father, wheat boy. Apologies in advance for sullying your holy grounds with my presence," he said, giving the priest a polite bow and made his way to the village square. He didn't have to travel too much to get to his destination, but things were looking a bit more disorganized than he remembered. It looks like there was a damn battle in the middle of the village, what in the hell happened here? Carts were knocked over, people looked quite uneasy, and the street was littered with an assortment of goods. "Er, Lady Charlotte, you're wearing a rather dangerous looking scowl there," he said, gently placing a hand on her shoulder. "I feel as though I've missed something," he said, looking over towards Claire, Nelon, and Angus.
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Accolon's shrill cries were all the encouragement Alain needed to turn his attention the other way. "Forgive my lack of consideration. It appears I was misinformed... and I wrongly assumed that you might be a... " He pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a deep exasperated sigh. What a bizarre situation. Still, rather than exit the room with his head hanging low, he took a moment of pause to listen to the continuation of Accolon's story. "So you escaped from Deira to find peace, almost dying in the process, only to wind up joining the Raewalden army as it marches straight back to your homeland--cutting down your former comrades along the way... Not only that, but you've gone from blindly pledging your loyalty to one man, to doing the same with another. Not much of an improvement, if I'm being honest. I hope the irony of your situation has not been lost upon you," he said, shaking his head. "You should consider returning to Raewald and then continuing your journey for peace elsewhere," he suggested. "War is war, and as much as it troubles me to admit, I'm confident that the same issues that plagued you as a Deiran soldier will continue to eat away at you as you fight on behalf of Raewald. I don't doubt we'll be meeting your sub-commander, Laudine, sometime soon. Are you prepared to face her in combat branded as a traitor? Would you be able to sleep well if she were to fall by my magic--like the rest of your brothers and sisters? Your penance to Engel can be repaid elsewhere," he said. "...I'm curious though. Upon what basis do you believe Cassandra to be allied with Belial?" He turned back for a moment, before remembering his predicament. "And how exactly do you plan on saving my soul? I mean, don't get me wrong, somewhere in my heart I actually feel quite elated to know you're praying so diligently for someone like me," he said, hiding a smirk from Accolon. "But tell me, why do you stay your hand? After all, aren't those who have strayed from Engel's light beyond redemption? Instead of prayer, would it not be best to try and lay me to rest?"
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Alain recoiled from the water, half out of surprise, and half out of fear of receiving divinely inspired burns. "My, this is certainly unexpected," he began, holding away part of his drenched robes. "I didn't realize Engel's rituals involved splashing about in a pool like an excited child. I might have been more keen on joining the covenant if I'd known taking a bath was part of my path towards salvation. Certainly beats all of the human sacrificing Belial ordered from me." He stepped forward, taking care not to slip on the puddles of water as he approached the pool's edge with a wry smile on his face. "Although, being burdened by my mistakes for all of my waking life seems a bit excessive, so perhaps I'll have to remain content with what I have," he added, taking a passing note of Accolon's slender frame. It wasn't quite what he'd been expecting to find under that assortment of obtuse looking armor. Certainly he's not...? Arrogant as he was, he'd still studied something of noble mannerisms. Surely there was no way Eric was that unaware, right? It must be the light... "Alas. So much for saving my soul, eh? But lucky for you, that's not what I was interested in talking to you about," he said, resting his eyes upon his reflection. "What is your business with us? You and that friend of yours." He'd heard a brief story from Baron Esclabor about the circumstances, but it still didn't make much sense as to why they'd been so eager to defect. Accolon seemed fairly devout--enough to rival those of the Justice Patrol. If they had been so delusional, what truths was Accolon aware of? "According to those Justice Club clowns, and apparently your King, Deira is the real peace-keeper in this game. They seemed pretty convinced of it, in fact. So what then of you? Either you are aware of some proof of Olaf's treachery, or you and your sidekick have committed some interesting "sins" back at home that you're trying to run from. In which case you ought to thank Ethel instead of Engel sometime, but that's just me," he said.
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Tch, so much for loving all of his children. I'm really feeling the love over here Engel. Alain shook his hands, trying to stymie the feeling of discomfort stemming from his fingers. Within moments, he was able to spot what appeared to be a pile of Accolon's justice armor. It wouldn't surprise me if he was part of that joker squad at some point in his life... He rolled his eyes. Perhaps he was being a bit overly harsh on the man. He did leave the Deiran army, after all. Perhaps he had more sense in him than Alain had first anticipated. His attention was captured by the sounds coming from the nearby room, a bit of splashing and some whimpering. If I didn't know any better, I'd have thought this was some Belialistic ritual going on right now. He had himself a bit of a chuckle. "I hope Engel doesn't mind the intrusion. I've found myself a bit bored this morning, and I was hoping you'd be able to save my soul since it's been a few days," Alain said aloud, his words coated in dry sarcasm. He carried himself towards the neighboring room, entirely unsure of what he was supposed to expect.
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"Good to know Father. If you have the time, you ought to let him know it's nothing personal really. The world is vast, and to leave my mark I need to explore the untraveled roads. That's all there is to it really." He shrugged, getting up and dusting his robes. "Sorry to hear about your tomatoes though. Unfortunately, my knowledge starts and ends with turnips... but perhaps you'll find better luck next year?" he suggested, starting his slow walk to the chapel, and leaving Eric to his own devices. He was hoping to get more of a rise out of the man, but the best he'd gotten was wheat. How boring. "Wheat. Plentiful in number, and easy to cut down with a sickle. Take care that you don't find yourself pretending to be wheat on the battlefield," he snickered, giving a final wave as he made his way into the chapel proper. Now then, perhaps my savior shall prove to be more entertaining.
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"Nay, Father, he is but a traitorous tomato," Alain replied, clasping his tome shut and stretching himself out across the shade of his tree. Clapcot had proven itself to be a bit of a let down in terms of activity. Though, he wasn't even sure why he had been expecting anything in the first place. He had to remind himself he hadn't come to Myrcia as a diplomat on a sight-seeing tour. He was a soldier now, for what it was worth--though that still didn't help alleviate the boredom. He sighed, looking past Eric. "Though it appears a tomato has been plucked from its vine. Your knight friend seems to be missing in action. He had some choice words for me last we met, but it appears as though he cares less about me than I thought," Alain mused, prodding at Eric for some kind of reaction. Nani? Alain was already at the Chapel this whole time? B-bakana!
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Alain couldn't help but snicker at the sight of Oshea floundering around. It was quite unbecoming of a man who so prided himself on grandeur and grace. He listened intently to the exchange between Owen and Jonathan, the latter of whom continued to espouse the idea that somehow Deira was innocent, and it was instead Ethel who was pulling the strings. Ethel was a lot of things, but a woman bent on a tyrannical rule of the entire continent was something he found a bit hard to believe. Stubborn and dominant, yes, but stupid she was not. He knew likely as well as Ethel herself did, that her meek advisers would like for nothing more than to depose her from the throne and regain their influence over the crown. Such a crusade would be an easy avenue to paint her under the spell of madness. It just didn't make sense, and he couldn't believe it. It was good that Cassandra had managed to at least convince Owen to demand compensation for Oshea's life. Though, she seemed quite soured by the whole ordeal. As she ought to be. I understand you're trying to take after your Father Owen, but perhaps you ought to realize you're a Prince without a Kingdom. Any meeting with King Olaf was bound to be one-sided. Olaf would have all the power at the negotiating table--he'd already captured Owen's biggest piece after all. "With pleasure, Prince Owen," Alain obliged, releasing his grip on Oshea and hurling him forward. "Go on then, friend. I have removed my filthy cultist hands from you. I look forward to hearing about the justice you faced when next we meet," he mused, leaving Oshea to meander as he pleased. "A word if you will, Prince Owen," he said, approaching the group. He shot Constance a disapproving look. You're the reason these clowns even sprung up in the first place, and then you have the gall to be ordering me around? Honestly... "I'd like to usher a warning. Your father was praised for his ability to negotiate peace and prosperity for his Kingdom, no? If what these men say is true, and your father truly was conspiring with Queen Ethel, I urge you to ponder upon the reasons why your father of all people, would cast aside diplomacy if Deira was truly so eager to make peace. I would also urge you to be careful as this campaign continues. This meeting of yours with Olaf may prove fruitful, but take care that the apple you will come to hold is not filled with poison."
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"Friends indeed, I've even stopped by for tea and biscuits. So I'd advise you to be on your best behavior now, unless you're in the mood for tea yourself," Alain whispered, delighted at the apparent fear he was invoking into the man. Serves you right, you bastard. "Good of you to join us, Prince Owen," Alain proclaimed, turning his attention to the newly arriving group. He noticed Cassandra among them as well. Good. He hoped his early conversation with the princess would prove fruitful in gaining Owen's trust. Who better to convince him of Belial's non-threatening nature than his own sister, after all? "It appears these kind folk have come forward in order to take the enemy commander back. I was willing to entertain the idea, but they seem particularly insistent that I release him for free. I've asked quite nicely for them to present an offer on the table, but it seems Jonathan is more interested in his monologue than considering what I'm saying to him," he said, leaving out the rosy details of Constance's elderly delirium. "It's quite humorous really, Jonathan. You keep blathering all this talk about her Majesty bringing darkness to the continent, and yet it is King Olaf who has occupied Myrcian lands and laid siege to Wyke's capital. That sounds pretty dark to me, wouldn't you say? Consider for a moment that we've only just passed the Myrcian border, and yet your army is this far out. Your king has chosen to make Myrcia his battlefield. Ponder the justice in that." He dangled Oshea in front of him. "Now, my patience is starting to wear thin Jonathan. I don't want to kill this man, but I'm not opposed to it. This man has vital intelligence about our army. Don't think for a second you can spin this any other way. Give me something worth this man's life, or get lost."
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"For a purported scion of justice, you're rather soft-spoken, aren't you miss? Here's the thing though," he said, walking over to Oshea and clutching him by his collar. "You might be right in saying this fraud over here can do no harm, but you're quite dismissive of the harm he's already managed to do. I'm not quite sure I like that. Now, I don't know about the Prince, but I myself am not too keen on handing over a prisoner of war to a band of delusional self-righteous clowns for free," he said, pulling Oshea up. "And I humbly regret to inform you, but we're at war now. And wars are not won by being charitable to your enemy. If you're as fair as you are just, then surely you'll find it no trouble to offer something of recompense for the life of this man? You seem quite eager to save him after all, and I wouldn't want to give up a master strategician for free." He had a smirk on his face. Here he was, thinking the man was all but useless and then a bunch of jokers show up, ready to save him. What a riot. "You should know he was pining for you lot. Every other sentence was the justice friends this, and the justice friends that. I imagine this is something like a dream come true for the man. If I were you, I wouldn't want to shatter his dreams by being stingy when he's so close to salvation." "... Another thing you should know. Unlike some of my companions here, my fealty is primarily with the Queen who you've so openly slandered. While this fighting has left me rather weary, I wouldn't mind judging one last soul. A casualty of war, if you will. I'm sure we'll have some time leftover to talk about the politics of right and wrong afterwards," he finished, his right hand rife with dark energy.
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"What's wrong commander? You seem awfully quiet all of a sudden. Where's your gusto now?" Alain sneered. For all his boasting, Oshea had failed to deliver any promising results--a true pity for his men. "Letting him go free would be ill-advised should he manage to reconvene with Deiran forces. But somehow I doubt Deira would care enough to pay a ransom for him. Perhaps we should just let the surviving Myrcian villagers have their way with him. I'm sure they might have a thing or two they'd like to say... "
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"I'll try and hold back--for your sake, Commander." Alain to (17,6) attacks Oshea with Balor.
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"Don't be so harsh on the man. I wager he'd play a fine game of chess. After all, what are a few pawns to secure the safety of the king?" "Ah but alas, a true pity for you Commander... I believe we've reached checkmate." Alain moves to (16,3).
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"Your kind is so uncouth." Alain to (17,6); Invites Bandit #1 to Oblivion.
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"A shame you won't be needing this any longer, sir," Alain said, plucking the dark tome from the old man's incapable reach. He had a strange mark carved onto his hand--the same that Constance brandished on her cloak. I see... I should have realized sooner. It was curious that nobody had apprehended Constance for her bold display, but perhaps the meaning of the mark was lost upon most. Without any further delay, Alain took his prize and emerged from the house, ready to enter the fray once more. Alain moves to (15,8) attacks Fighter 2 with Balor
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1. Too many sword lords 2. Lets make sword OC's 3. Lets not add Ike and Roy because we have too many sword characters 4. ??? 5. Profit? First FExSMT, now this. One disappointment after another.
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Alain to (11,7). Visits house.
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"If I require aid from Engel's acolyte, I'll be sure to ask. Until that time comes, you'd best warn your friend to keep their help to themselves and concentrate on the battlefield. Honestly, you both talk as if it were your given right to fight in this army--as defectors to your own kingdom no less. Pah. If you want to talk about respect, try to earn it first," he scoffed. Alain moves to (12,8) and thunders the General.
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Finally--he'd found freedom at last. For months he'd restrained himself, focusing on his infernal magic only in the utmost secrecy. But now--on this battlefield--he had finally relinquished himself of that burden once and for all. It was for that reason that Accolon's proclamations amused Alain to no end. He looked towards Accolon, his gaze completely level with the rider's axe. "You think I've come this far just to go back to Engel with my tail between my legs, begging for forgiveness? Sorry, but I've done enough begging to last me a couple of lifetimes--so I'll have to ask you and your Lord to keep your favors to yourselves. But thanks for caring," he said, waving Balor in front of the rider. "I should warn you however, before you get any funny ideas. I act in accordance with the decree of her Majesty Queen Ethel herself. I've got a lot to prove in this war, and I'll not be kept from my goals by an overzealous turncoat like yourself. If you value your life, and the life of your comrade--you'd best learn to leave the holy crusading for somewhere other than my presence," he spat.
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More Wyverns, huh? Alain frowned. He and the rest had found themselves in a bit of a pinch. Falling back put them at the mercy of that damnable magic, but advancing forward was hardly an inviting option. He sighed. Still, showing cowardice to the Deiran's would prove troublesome as well, so he supposed the answer to the dilemma had been decided. First impression mattered, after all. "Come then, it's time I had Belial show me his worth." Alain moves to (9,7), attacks Reliant 2 with Balor.
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"No promises, but we'll try. Hopefully these bastards don't decide to set the entire village on fire before then," he said to the woman, chewing his lip as he looked towards the smoldering remains nearby. "You should find somewhere to hide for now, it's not safe in the open," he added. Alain moves to (7,10) and attacks Archer #3 with Thunder
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Alain moves to (4,11) take drops the villager from bottom post
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Alain arrived to the battlefield not as a mere diplomat, but as a soldier. It was always amusing to compare where he used to be as a child, and where he was now as an adult. Here he was, about to embark on a campaign to liberate a country and topple a kingdom. Back in those days, all he ever cared about was trying to liberate his stomach from the "rumblies". Sometimes he wondered what life would be like if he hadn't been orphaned. Would he be where he was now? A better spot, or worse perhaps? He shook his head. Ultimately, those kinds of thoughts mattered little now that the battle was about to begin. Another time, perhaps. For now, focus. He just needed to focus. Alain deploys on (1,11) and begrudgingly hands over the Frost Tome >:(
