pk [PK] FEAR THE OLD MAN IN A PROFESSION WHERE MEN DIE YOUNG.

[xMuted 2459]

FEAR THE OLD MAN IN A PROFESSION WHERE MEN DIE YOUNG.
 

 

---

 

“It is not what you want, when duty calls. I must answer, always.”

 

---

“And now for the promotions to Armsman. Step forwards, Sebastian Bishop.” Lord Marshal Johann Barclay called out to the members of the Brotherhood of Saint Karl gathered on the square. Sebastian grinned with a cocky smile as he walked forwards to the Lord Marshal. He knew this promotion was coming, not for his outstanding mentality or likeable personality. Sebastian Bishop knew this promotion was coming due to a simple fact of him being one of the best in battle. “Thank du, Lord Marshal.” He said with a sly snicker towards The Lord Marshal

 

---

Sebastian found himself on the battlefields facing down enemy forces. “Get the Lord Marshal!” The now Armiger shouted out as he spotted Lord Marshal Hieran Melphestaus unconscious on the floor infront of the enemy. He charged forwards together with Sviatoslav Godunov to face down the foes. “Cover mich, Sviatoslav!” Sebastian Bishop called out as he grabbed the Lord Marshal to carry him away. SWISH! The halberd of the enemy went right towards Sebastian’s face, cleaving half of it off. The Armiger cried out in pain yet he carried the unconscious Marshal away to safety nonetheless.

 

---

“I am pleased to announce a new Sergeant to my officer core.” Spoke Lord Marshal Sergei Aleksandr. “Please come forwards, Armiger Sebastian Bishop.” Finally, Sebastian thought to himself as he stepped forwards on the podium to be promoted. “Thank du, Lord Marshal. Ich promise to serve the Brotherhood of Saint Karl to mich last breath.” He spoke with a sense of duty and loyalty in his voice, the left side of his face now scarred and partially covered by an eye-patch. The young upstart that once was, who only cared about being the best with no regard for others had now faded. Now, Sergeant Sebastian Bishop was truly ready to give everything he had for the Brotherhood of Saint Karl. He gave a salute as he finished his speech before sitting back down.

 

---

“Down the hill, sir! There is a wooden bridge that we can use to flank them with, permission to assemble a squad to engage!?” Sergeant Sebastian Bishop roared out in the midst of the siege on the Inferi fort. “Permission granted, Sergeant!” Royal Captain Felix Weiss shouted back at Sebastian before the Sergeant assembled a force to go engage, consisting of Ser Vanhart, Baldrum Colborn, Ser Walton and Tulip. Soon, they were receiving heavy hellfire and projectiles from above. “Put up dur shields, do nie falter!” Sergeant Sebastian Bishop commanded as they held firm against the constant onslaught of fire, an incredible feat as they covered the main force with only five men. Soon they pushed upwards the wooden bridge, with Ser Vanhart and himself at the front. “WATCH OUT!” Sebastian Bishop slammed himself infront of Ser Vanhart as a massive olog sized Inferi charged through ice, taking heavy damage and the loss of his only remaining eye.

 

---

And there he sat in the square of Karosgrad, flipping around some medals of Valor in his hands with no vision remaining, a disabled veteran that now lingered as a ghost of his former self. It was many years before he finally amassed enough mina to purchase himself artificial Animii eyes.

“Hallo.” Sebastian walked up to a pair of kids who were looking at a Brotherhood poster. “AAAAAHH!” They pointed at his extremely scarred face and pair of golden Animii eyes before running away. “Bah.” He walked inside of the barracks where he encountered the now Lord Marshal Felix Weiss “Gutte day, Lord Marshal.” He grinned at his old friend before giving the man a salute. “Permission to go back in the line of fire und duty?” Sebastian Bishop asked of the man. “Go back? In my eyes you never left, Sergeant.” The Lord Marshal said towards the man with a pat on the shoulder.

 

---

Sebastian read a missive now, he grinned to himself as he read the title. ‘Writ of Aulic appointment, Lord Marshal of the Realm, we now announce Sebastian Bishop as the new Lord Marshal of the Brotherhood of Saint Karl!’ The man beamed with pride and enthusiasm as he got straight to work.

 

---

“I am here to announce my retirement as the Lord Marshal of the Brotherhood.” Sebastian said with a somber tone, Alas, he had been struck by a condition that caused him to be far too tired for the Lord Marshal job. He left the podium, dissatisfied with his work. He scribbled down Lieutenant Wilheim Barclay as his favoured replacement and went to his home.

 

---

And suddenly, there he stood. In the duma hall facing down hordes of Mori legionnaires with their commander at the front. “Retreat, Sebastian!” Lord Marshal Wilheim Barclay shouted out at the oldest veteran the Brotherhood had left. “Ich will cover du, leave the rest of du!” He roared out as he went to face down the commander, drawing his shield and blade. “Care for a duel!?” The old veteran challenged the commander, their best of the best. As the two clashed weapons, he held firm. He always did, he always will, Sebastian thought to himself. Then he heard a friend, A Lieutenant under him, a man loved by many drop dead in the hallway. Ser Baldrum Colborn had fallen behind him. “DID DU KNOW HIS NAME!?” He roared out in fury at Nakaas. “HIS NAME WAS SER BALDRUM COLBORN, A LIEUTENANT UNDER MICH! LOVED BY MANY, HE WAS A GREAT FRIEND!” His blade struck through, slicing apart a piece of Nakaas’ shoulder. “DO DU WANT TO KNOW MY NAME, NAKAAS!?” He shouted at the commander. “ICH AM SEBASTIAN BISHOP, THE OLDEST MAN STILL REMAINING IN THE BROTHERHOOD, AND ICH HAVE NOTHING TO LOSE!” The two clashed blades but soon the old veteran began to tire out, and it showed. “Well met, Sebastian, then let me tell you something. Nakaas does not mean anything, it is simply a title of someone nameless. I was once known as Toriel The White under her ladyship before YOUR kind slew her!” The commander roared back out at Sebastian before both men let forth a wicked grin. “Then let us see whose vengeance is stronger, Sebastian.” Toriel The White said as he readied his blades. “Ich would have it nie other way!” Sebastian responded before the two men engaged once more. Yet it did not last. slowly, Toriel gained the upper hand as the man’s indomitable spirit that had trademarked him his entire life soon died down, soon he was impaled on the commander’s war glaive. “Well fought, Toriel The White.” He said as he took a final puff of his cigar before the man slipped out of consciousness, dead upon the Duma floor. “I will remember your names, Baldrum Colborn and Sebastian Bishop.” The now scarred commander of the Mori said towards the two dead men.
 

---

 

Spoiler

Thanks to everyone who I roleplayed with on Sebastian Bishop! I played him for over 1.5 years, from age 16 to 84. I had a blast playing him. o7.

 

[SethWolf 1382]

Felix was leant against his door by the river in some tropical paradise in the Seven Skies. He smiled fondly at all of the memories of Sebastian Bishop, that crazy, wild-eyed Waldenian. "Vy were as quick with a joke as vy were with a punch to the face, vy old bastard." He spoke to himself as a smile broke upon the features of his face further still. Yet, Sebastian was without a doubt one of the finest soldiers Felix ever had the pleasure of both commanding and serving under.

Sebastian was rock-solid in his resolve, all the way to his soul. Felix never knew him to question, disobey an order or make little snide remarks. He just did his duty. Even when he was in command, he didn't prance about like some fat, useless whelp lording over everyone as he had known a few disgraceful officers to do. No. He was still that same soldier. He'd never send a man into a situation that he wasn't willing to go in, he never, ever dishonored the trust of his men and he was throughout his entire career above all things: His comrade.

 

And now Felix hoped that the old man would finally find peace in this new life of eternal sunshine and ever-overflowing barrels of scotch, whiskey and the good old Black. Felix, a fellow old man, certainly knew he had.

 

Though, even in this new life, he had not drank. He made a promise.

"...Krusae zwy Kongzem. Rest well, brother." He stood, and saluted the sky above.

 

 

[Frostdrop1 863]

Audo Weiss laid back in his dingy tent as he peered up at the roof of it. Suicidal, the old man had been: suicidal to stay back while others made their retreat. And yet, he was far from the only grizzled warrior he'd known to want to die fighting.

And although he did still fear much when on the field, Audo was beginning to see the draw. These men had a legacy already; they wanted to go out with a BANG.

Even in the unbearable Savoy heat, his knightly armour covered him, helmet and all. Beneath it, he smiled faintly even if the grief and tug from the loss of his father, uncle, comatose brother and his own brush with death was dragging on his mind.  "Rest well, old bastard. Vy deserve it." He had been a fine Lord Marshal to learn under - one who had revitalised the army - and had been the man to finally give him a chance.