A Lemon Haired Grave

[LordCrowe 173]

Spoiler

OOC Note: My first time making a proper RP post so please be gentle. Anyway on with the show.

Caelum headed for the gates of the city of Numendil, letter clutched in hand. It was a message from a kindly hobbit, the response of an old acquaintance, Avartagh. 'Come visit me at the Temple in Numendil around that time' it read, a simple response to a previous letter sent to request a meeting 'We can talk then'. The 250cm tall figure (around 8'2" if you're American), clad in a concealing white robe, trudged into the gatehouse. He had been ready to provide his name, to try and bluff his way through, but there was no need, for the gatehouse was empty, the gate wide open.  In a way the figure was grateful for the reprieve, wringing out some water from his constantly damp robes in a nearby alley, a consequence of the man's true nature. It had been a long time since he had gone by that name, Caelum Clodovicus, and a long time since he had met Avartagh. As he slowly stomped towards the Temple of Numendil, he reminisced.

It had been a nice day, and the teenaged Caelum was rather lost. He was trying to get to Norland you see, wanting to see with his own eyes the great tree. Wandering the roads, finding the signage confusing, he eventually stumbled upon a little hobbit on a humble farm on a lonely hill near Grense. Avartagh, as he introduced himself, was a silly and fun loving sort, calling Caelum "Lemon Head!" after the colour of his hair, and promised to provide young Caelum with directions if he would play a game of riddles first. Oh the riddles confused and annoyed Caelum, but it was all in good fun, and despite his rather terrible performance Avartagh was still nice enough to aid his journey, even foisting upon the young teen a small feast's worth of baked goods!

Caelum soon found himself at the temple in question, and sure enough, there was Avartagh, a monk it seemed. The man chuckled to himself, he had not known Avartagh to be in a holy profession, but he found it amusingly fitting. "Avartagh" he spoke to the now comparatively much smaller halfling "it had been a long time". Concealed in white robes and so much taller than last they had met, Avartagh was understandably confused "Eh?" the hobbit had replied with a lofted brow "Is that Caelum? You certainly don't look like Caelum!". But Caelum just responded with a chuckle "The lemonhaired one himself, yes", With introductions over, Avartagh told his old acquaintance "We can talk after the wedding, come watch!". For indeed, there was a wedding that day, with Avartagh officiating. The man, Caelum, strode into the temple with the other guests and politely stood in the corner as the ceremony began, chuckling along as  Avartagh added his usual goofy flair to the proceedings. While he waited, the man reminisced once more, of the day temples like these became far less welcoming to one such as him.

Shortly after exiting Norland, having seen the great tree and been awed by it, Caelum began to explore, foolishly wandering a lot further from the roads than was strictly recommended. He'd rather not think of the details, of the day he was dragged into the darkness, tricked by a darkstalker, kidnapped, ritually murdered... and then risen again. He was given a new name, a cruel name, Shrike. As a ghoul his mind was twisted, his memories hazy. Memories of a hobbit he could no longer recognize dominated his thoughts, the little folk's jokes seemed like mocking jeers, and he began to hate. Shrike hated hobbits, he hated lemons, he hated the living, he hates how his memories were shattered and confused, he hated himself. So he threw himself into his work, playing the part of the loyal minion, dying and rising again and again just to feel something. He earned acclaim from his dark masters, he struck the final blow upon a Wyvern, for which he earned a new name, Drakorst'deztrok or 'the wyvern slayer'. He led the charge against the secret druidic stronghold of The Wellsrping and he defended during the last siege of Lumbridge, among many other feats. Until eventually, he his earned ascension...

After officiating the wedding, Avartagh led Caelum into the confession booth. "Speak freely" Avartagh told Caelum "The seal of confession binds here" and so Caelum began his tale. "I suppose I should say it begins with the story of a man... and a monster" the white robed figure began, before diving into the explanation proper "Shortly after we parted during our last meeting, I finished by business in Norland and went exploring about. I... strayed a bit further from the road than was strictly safe." he let out a bemused chuckle "I was still a young farmboy, I was rather foolish. I was tricked by what I assumed to be a wandering knight, only they were no holy warrior, it was a darkstalker. They dragged me back to their master and... well I won't speak of the specifics, I won't sully this holy place with such words."

"I died there, and then I rose again." Caelum paused, before asking "What do you know, Avartagh, of ghouls? Not the physical elements, the aurum weakness and the skull crushing... but their mentality?". To this Avartagh asked "Are you a ghoul?" to which Caelum could only respond "Not anymore..." plunging him into more memories.

To ascend, Caelum's faith in his new cause was tested, and it was not found lacking. Soon enough, his twisted soul was freed from the rotting bones of his former body, sealed instead into a tomb of rock, as Caelum arose once again... as an Eidola, a Pale Knight. And in that moment he was free. His memories reordered, his loyalty no longer magically enforced. But as any scholar of the dark might tell you, Eidola possess a madness all of their own, and Caelum's manifested as an OBSESSION. As a boy he had wanted companionship, loyalty. As a ghoul he had thrown himself into his work, his loyalty. And now as he realized the full extent of how he had been violated, the twisted soul fell back on the one thing he knew, LOYALTY.

 

Caelum collected himself, before continuing, telling Artagh of how he had been turned first into a ghoul, then into the Eidola he revealed himself to be, and Caelum spoke of the last virtue he held dear, of loyalty. "To what?" Avartagh asked him, to which Caelum responded "To the Black Sun... In truth, I know my soul is damned, the creator has long since turned away from me, but I suppose before I can move on I need... closure." Caelum then handed Avartagh a simple sling, braided from familar, bright yellow hair. "I made this... shortly after my first death, it's all that remains of my old self." Caelum explained "So I would ask a favour of you if I may, Avartagh"

"Speak it! I will see if it can be done. Though I have counsel I must give you afterwards." Avartagh agreed, so Caelum made his final request "I would entrust you with the sling...burn it in holy fire, or preserve its memory, I care not" he spoke gravely "But it is all that remains of Caelum, it is the gravestone of who I was, so I ask you treat it as such." Avartagh agreed... he also counseled that Caelum kill himself of course, as a last chance to save his blackened soul, but that was to be expected of a man of the cloth. Avartagh was a good friend, it was a shame to lose him... but Caelum was dead, his last tie to the world removed.

All that remained was the ever loyal Knight of the Pale.