The Birth Of Order

[Heero 4092]

 

 

An arm quickly drifted to the side of his abdomen. His eyes fluttered time and time again to no avail. A thick veil of black was casted before his vision. He slothfully lumbered through the region, feet dragging behind carelessly. His ears filled with the constant ring; his chest constricting with each breathe,; his heart pulsated weakly. His body weary and in dismay yet his spirit remained intact. His lips drifted deficiently as only the words of a mouse escape. Its volume was feeble but the words themselves were empowering. A prayer directed for the patron of Order himself. Only one recurring phase being the only thing audible. “Xan.” With each passing instance streaks of gold broke through his vision. Bleeding in like the rays of a madden Sun God.

 

He continued sauntering through the depths of black. Aimlessly wandering. With every step he pondered on the thought. He could recall the words of an elder voice beckoned to him.
 

~{=+=}~

“You are an agent of divine. Lightsworn to exist as both a bulwark and a scale. You will breathe order and bleed wardenship.”

 

~{=+=}~

 

The confabulation brought a heavy smile to his face. He continued on with his journey. A haze of gold followed in suit. The iconic mist of a Paladin of Xan. Yet even in the midst of darkness the light of the mist was snuffed by the consuming nature of the dusk. Only a faint glimmer able to escape the clutches of the dark.

 

~{=+=}~

 

“Seek the Eldritch Knight. A Harbinger of the Warped. He is one of the damned. A lancer who wields a shadow-clad spear. An instrument blessed by the malevolent. Vanquish the fiend and you shall be granted what you seek. But be weary. It is said that His blade can ignore any defense completely, cutting through armor as if it were paper. A pro-”

 

~{=+=}~

 

Mid-thought his legs buckle. Toppling forward only to be greeted with the frigidly cold asphalt. With great difficulty he gradually lifted himself. His arms wobbling frantically, barely able to hold his weight. After some struggle he rose from the ground. Trudging onward once more through the abyss-like environment. His arms wrapped around his torso. The air was thick like smoke and felt arctic. A blizzard devoid of snow. White was nonexistent in this plane. It was discarded long ago in the hopes no would be so foolish to tread through its depths.

 

A relief it was. His noses twitched to it delinquently. It pierced through the scentless-musk. A breeze! It wrapped across his visage, embracing his cheeks as it swept by. He know naught if it had been days or hours. Years or weeks that he had been lurking through this foul darkness. With spirits high his movements quickly escalated. Life has blossomed in the wayward paladin. In a weak jog he chased after the origins of the gust. No hesitation was present when the glee the paladin felt was cut short. He grimaced at the sight. The lingering effects of the wretched darkness quickly subceeded but there was nothing but a hollow reward to grasp.

 

 

 

He had emerged from the darkness hoping for light but instead he was met with the atrocity. before him. A wasteland devoid of life or even the smallest sake of sanctity. Only ruin and defilement stood to greet him. The gust that felt so sweet lounge in its true self. The air was ridden with brimstone, sulphur and the stench of decay. Quickly he brought a hand, cuffed with an golden ethereal gauntlet to his maw. Gagging on the vile smell that tainted the air. After a short pause he discarded his hand from his visage. A film of gold remained. The light appeared almost like liquid. It called out in defiance as it climbed upward. Hardening as it warped upward forming a golden helm and visor. He lumbered around the steep slope. Surveying the landscape for life. He narrowed his eyes on the sight of what appeared to be a hulking creature of warped iron.

 

 

Instantaneously the figure whipped back. It was like that of whip lash cracking. Even being so far, its features were crystal clear. Every detail able to be made out with the utmost of ease. It returned a piercing stare. Two wispsy white orbs locked onto the paladin. He drew his arm outward. A spire of onyx flourishing in his blackened grasp. Cocking his arm back and hurling the pike forward with ease. The spear crashed into the rock where the paladin stood. He leaped to the side but his ears rang from the thunder-like crash. The blighted warrior churned its head back, releasing a ear-shattering howl. It extended its arm out. Unearthing a sickly lance of ebony, charging forward for the paladin. Earth and blighted soil ripped and thrown into into the air in the metallic behemoth's wake. The paladin quickly jerked his arm upward. A shard of translucent gold swiftly unfolding before the paladin in a wide span. With a grunt he drew his free hand to his side, almost clutching something. Light swarmed to his fist. Weaving into a majestic light-forged blade. Positioning his legs as he braced for the iron Titan’s charge.

 

 

The earth rattled as the combatant slammed into the barrier with unparalleled force. Snarling at the construct as he arched his spear-arm back. It was just as the paladin’s patron warned. The damned knight thrusted his cursed weapon at the barrier. Ripples forming along the construct’s surface as it pierced through, met with no opposition. The paladin’s eyes widened with a gasped hurling itself from the depths of his throat. The spear pinned him to the stone slope, blood oozing from the site of the wound. The dark knight’s eyes averted to the injury, quickly flooded with an unquenchable bloodlust. Repeatedly driving his spear into the paladin’s abdomen. Fissures and punctures plaguing the paladin’s ethereal protective plating. His vision zapped with each jabbing instance. Each blow was swiftly delivered after another but time seemed to grow slothful to the paladin. He attempted to raise an arm but it refused to comply. A nudge of a shoulder; flashing grit teeth; even batting an eye was impossible. As the knight continued its onslaught of rendering the paladin. His golden armor shattered into a golden haze. Enveloping the agent of Xan. As the wicked knight raises its weapon once more it was halted only to deliver a pained cry. The sabre of light lunged itself on its own accord, piercing through and through. The knight staggered back as the paladin threw himself forward. His golden armor was no more but a veil of golden mending hung loosely in its place, feverishly attempted to grant the paladin a short-lived burst of strength. He reached outward, propelling his arm with new-found energy. His palm erupted into a powerful orange hue. Quickly igniting into a frenzy of burning embers which encompassed his palm. He secured his hand around the throat of the wounded warrior and pressed forcefully. After a short moment the paladin give a restricted grunt whilst a sharp crackle echoed across the tainted battlefield. The paladin of Xan shortly fell back whilst the mangled and charred head of the malevolent fiend tumbled away; expressionless. The paladin laid back on the cold stone slope, shoving what remained of his arm between his legs as he grimaced in pain. The haze of gold that accompanied the paladin hastefully dimmed into a tarnished copper. Wallowing in his suffering he felt it. The very life essence that flowed through him thinning further and further. He had ventured for you long. Encased in darkness hoping to be greated with light. Yet the light he saught was perverted. With heavy eyes he looked to the horizon. Even the clouds were saddening. They were not white and fluffy as during the mid-summer but nor did they have the decency to be grey as they are before a storm. They draped with a sickly ash color. With sorrow branded on his actions he drew his eyes shut, rolling onto his side. He whispered one final prayer as he came to terms with his demise. Although as he grew cold it ceased almost spontaneously. What was once a brisk sensation inverted into a warm embrace. To his curiosity he slowly pried his eyes open.

 

 

With wide eyes he was perplexed. His breathe stolen by the stature of what surrounded him. He basked in its glory. Dwarfed in comparison to the towering abstract patterns that firmly protrested against gravity and any other worldly demands. He attempted to stand and to his surprise he was able to with ease. He glanced down in shock. His wounds mended, reverted as if he had never received them to begin with. Cautiously he treaded forward. Standing in awe of what laid before him momentarily. Only to recoil from the a deafening glow shortly after. Flinching; he quickly drew his hands to his ears. Jerking his head to the side. As the tremors subsided he glanced about once more. The world he stood in was encased in a orb of what appeared to be a glass-like-aura. A bubble almost. Sheepishly he continued on, mesmerized by the scene though his attention was drawn to the bubble that encased him. Order seemed to thrive within the sphere but the world outside the confines of the orb swelled with darkened clouds. Thunder trembling in the distance, striking out perpetually.

 

 

 

After climbing a short flight of stairs he stood before a court of marble. In its center rose a pillar littered with script complex enough to nauseate one from a mere glance. And before it stood a being, truly angelic in appearance. Wings so white that one would question if they were milk and a figure dressed in a mysterious black and donning a similar hood. His robes stood powerful as they were trimmed with gold that bared a mesmerizing pattern.

 

 

He stood idly. Only giving a twisting gesture of his wrist. The black of his robes were torn back rapidly. Sucked into his ever-so-white wings. Quickly the feathers were stained black but the body they were attached too was even more startling. A large, burly man stood in place where black once was. He had a thick neck and a coarse, solemn, brutal face. In spite of his formidable appearance he had a certain charm of manner. Long blonde hair hung back from his face while a thin beard, trimmed to perfection wrapped across his face. His eyes shined with an admirable sapphire color which was curiously disarming. The paladin took a meek step forward. He felt deeply drawn to him, not solely because he was intriguing but by the contrast between the angelic figure’s urbane manner and his prizefighter physique. Intelligence and wisdom was displayed by his face. It was all too much to take.

 

 

“Who are you are?” called out the stranded paladin. Quickly turning his head to view his surroundings. “Where am I?” he added.

 

The figure stood silently as a small smile came with a hearty chortle. “I am surprised you had not felt it. You are home my son.” the being spoke in an intimidating yet warm and fatherly like voice. “You are simply home, my knight of light.”

 

The paladin blinked in surprise. “Then I am ...Xan?”

 

The being give a solemn nod. “Indeed. Now come. Come, my son.”

Xan gestured for the paladin to follow. He lead the mortal up a winding flight of stairs where a throne, one deserved for only the kings of kings rested. Truly reserved for only the divines. It was flanked by channels which flowed with a crystal-like liquid. Breathtaking it truly was. Before the throne laided an intricate emblem of glass and underneath it flowed the same godly liquid. The Aengul assumed his seat. Resting in it comfortably as he laid his hand its armrest and perched the side of his face on his knuckles. Falling silent as he stared down the paladin before him. It was truly dreadful. The silence lasted for what seemed to be decades. Finally the mortal spoke out.

 

“Divine, you look troubled.”
“I am.”
“Why?”
“The Betrayer.”

The paladin paused. A mildly horrified expression spread across his face.

“What has occurred? What of the Betrayer?”

“Courage has awaken. And so Courage has fallen.”
“Courge?”
“Yes. Its patron, Malchediael.”

“And how has he fallen? What did the Betrayer commit to Malchediael?”

 

Xan simply ceased his responses. Quickly the paladin nodded.

“I take it that is knowledge privileged to the others you call kin. The other Gods.”
 

With a simple nod Xan replied.

 

 

“Yet do not worry. That is a matter I am to be concerned with. But in due time it shall be disclosed to you. But in light of the dilemma of Malchediael you are here, my son.”

 

A smile grew on the paladins face with each passing time his patron referred to him as “my son.” He could not help cease the impulse.

 

“The realm of the decedent's will soon be plagued. The others have finally taken notice.” he states with a beast-like scowl. “The Betrayer is scheming. Yet something more sinister than anything prior. And Herun, Valor, my justicar has fallen to the Betrayer’s blight.” With his last words the father patron bared fangs like that of a lion.

 

“I delegated a task to you and you had completed your quest. I promised you a reward for your plight and I shall. These times grew darker by the passing day. The land is turned wicked by His defiling touch. Order no longer exists. It has grown too trivial for some. It is pitiable, truly. This war will soon escalate beyond your mortal comprehension. Thus I offer you what few have grasped, divinity. You shall rise and become my will. My voice of Order throughout the realm.”

 

The golden realm seemed to tremble before the words of its master. Ripples quickly flooded the waters that surrounded the two. The glass that divided the water dissolved and a thin pike spouted upward. Chiseling itself as it became that of a godly spear.
 

“I present you my spear, Astraeaus. Its power does not match the awesome might of the Golden Lance but it shall serve you well. So tell me, my son, do you accept your new position as my vindicator?”

 

The paladin shuffled forward. Stunned by the spear that laided like a sword casted in stone. With an earnest nod he reach out. Grasping the handle of the divine instrument. With it the waters of Xan’s realm bursted out like a crazed tsunami. It enveloped the mortal as it wove itself into the fiber of his being. Rays of gold spewing out only to bend and dart back into the phenomenon.

 

With this Xan reclined in his seat. His firmly crossed his hands as he observe the spectacle. The form of the paladin warped and altered. Heeding to the powers above him as his vessel is molded anew. Xan pursed his lips with a frown before speaking.

 

“With this, Adniel was born.”

“Order.”

 

Credits to Dandan1350 for the amazing screenshots and of course to Tsuyose for the amazing event. Also credits to Patu, TheFactCore, Sean_dsed, Hobolympic, and Gunnerdude for the teaser of the builds to come. ;)

[Tsuyose 3285]

Hilan Athna nods once, casting his gaze over to the right and muttering a few, solemn whispers beneath his breath.

 

"Adniel, the Fragment must be returned. Lead the Brotherhood on their Crusade and slay the Blight that remains."

[ski_king3 0]

Somewhere off in the distance, Garion smiles.

[Ford 1996]

((So much mabinogi, holy heck! You even took the name Adniel from the golden dragon in g9. Loving those Nuadha, Cichol, and Brionac pics though. Good use of the esoteric game that is Mabinogi.))

[Galendar 631]

Amealeo sinks back in his chair as he hears of the news, his eyes lowering before he would murmur, "Congratulations."

[Anderssn 1115]

((And credits to me builders??))

[FORƎST 1312]

 

Whilst nursing his wounds, Allister feels a great disturbance in the force...

[Mj. 697]

((Holy macky tack!))

 

Aethos decides its time to have a drink somewhere in a tavern

[Heero 4092]

Moved to the Archive. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly.