To Stand Alone [PK post]

[Crymson 480]

The siege had seemed so quick. Assigned to a ballista crew, Petrel had done all he could to see to it that they continued to contribute to the exchange of volleys. He'd taken an arrow to his left shoulder. A lucky shot that had found the gap in his armor there. Yet, even when his crew became undermanned, he and another ensured that the last bolt was still fired to slay the last of the mammoths. He'd briefly ignored the command to withdraw in order to fire this last bolt. But now, he was faced with the realization that none of it mattered in the end. The gate had fallen. The remaining defenders made their preparations to retreat.

 

Petrel felt shame. This wasn't a defense worthy of Varhelm, and his part in it certainly hadn't lived up to the Volaren name. He'd only really known his clan's history for the latter part of his life, but he treasured it all the same. He finally belonged somewhere. No longer to be a wandering pauper. And yet, he could do nothing for his newfound home. This wasn't right. "I've failed my oath. Not one step back." Thus was his statement to the few remaining defenders. Two of such offered him brief salutes before they all moved to follow the retreat. Alone, he wandered the burning ruins. At the docks, he found some of the invaders. A dark being astride a monstrous steed that bore a black pelt laden with spines and wounds that weeped smoke and another strange being that stood nearby on foot. Petrel strode forth with a simple blade in his hand, calling out to them despite the lingering pain in his left shoulder. "I cannot save this city, but I'd rather die than give it to you. So, whom among you will send me to the Allfather's halls?"

 

The being astride the strange horse answered with a shriek. "I will break you!" The rider drew a blade and  the fell horse was urged into a charge. Petrel knew he stood little chance with only a simple blade in hand. Perhaps if he had a pike, there would be hope. But with his left arm in so much pain, he doubted he'd have been able to hold one steady anyway. Therefore, he simply moved his blade forth in a stabbing motion, an adrenaline fueled smile upon his lips. With luck, he might at least impale the being's mount. "Iron from Ice!" Such was accomplished, but his blade disappeared further into the monstrous horse. He hadn't time to try to retrieve it before the rider swung down upon him. Though he tried to stagger back and away from the sword, it found purchase under his helm. Crumpling to the ground, he could do naught but gurgle out his final breaths. His thoughts turned to hearth, home and family, which he would never see again. Yet, duty was upheld in the end. Not a step back. The beings looming over him spoke further but he heard little of it. As he faded however,  a distant voice  clearly said "Witnessed."

[Gandhi 2719]

Ser August Barclay offered the unwavering soldier a fair knightly salute as the Knights retinue cleared from the walls - he’d pray for the resolute soldier’s arrival at the seven skies on the ferry back to the remains of Elysium with the burning ruins of overwhelmed Varhelm in the longing distance.

[__Stal27 262]

Eugen Barclay would have casted a glance back from the retreating ferry as he thought of the events that had played out throughout the day, having fought alongside the defenders and having retreated, "A brave defender." The boy would state as he leaned down against the railing and sat down, watching as the old Capital lit up the night's skies whilst it burnt.

[Luciloo 2653]

The unholy rider grinned beneath her helm as she strode away, ash and ember trickling from her cloak, her blade smoking as Petrel's blood glistened in the flickering light of the burning city. Only after his passing would she find that the civilians had long escaped, that she had been distracted and delayed by Varhelm's final defender.

 

With a plume of smoke rising up from the eyeholes of her helm, the demon spoke in a trio of angelic voices, "Another soul for the serpent."