The Taste of Heroism

[PrinceJose270 1211]

The Final Battle is soon upon us….



“Even if one may see a thousand futures, the fates are never absolute. Shatter the heavens if it means you can protect one more soul”- Dura’Raguk, Translated from old blah to common.


Within the northern lands of Aevos, a single cursed child was present, waiting in front of a large gate made of stone, converted with wooden palisades  and a gate just before it. Only within could be heard the subtle sounds of a machine whirring harmlessly, deafened by the ever increasing snow and rain that danced around its very entrance. Standing there was Gusiam, who remained on guard despite the only company being the bitter cold attempting to nip at his face, that tried to frost and dampen his armour. Yet around the cursed child was a radiant blessing of heat that melted such chills away. Gifted from another shaman in passing as he remained on vigilance in the eerie cold night. To all that, Gusiam remained attemptive, yet all was quiet… at least to the world around, yet there were whispers, collective voices of curiosity and the like. Idle chatter though the eyes of what the shaman saw.

“Why is it you care for the mortals that are even willing to put a dagger through your heart?” One voice said, slow, toiling in tone yet deep power resonated in the voice given. Gus could feel the slight burning around his neck, the soft glow of white that wandered and moved about, despite such the voice was most curious of why their contractor did this.

“They have taken all from you. To what lengths have you prepared? You know well regardless of outcome, the migration might happen.”Another voice said, Younger… guttural, yet its voice thummed out the hottest of flames, the shaman felt his hands burned brightly, as it grabbed in each palm a hot coal.


“There is no simply fleeing this time around. The battle must happen, why not let those more foolish try their luck?”The final voice said, " Not as young but, not as old sounding, the voice sounded more free, fluent and most of all wild in nature. Yet the shaman's back burned brightly with black runes.

Not even before the shaman could answer, all three voices said at once, their tone matched that of a choir of multiple voices asking the same question at once.

“Why go to such lengths? Contractor.”


A deep breath was heard, yet the plume of crost slowly dissipated within the warm air, he heard to each of his lessers that he’d pact with, yet his mind could only drift to the letter of thalandir and Eryndor….No, Aruzond and Sordran. Yet as even as he thought of many scenarios, of winning and losing. There was not a response for a long moment. Till then he smiled, maybe after the long silence in the deafening storm did he find an answer.

“You wish to know why such lengths will be taken? It is simple, I made a promise to those two, a promise that I placed my honour on the line of. Not just of shaman, but of my will as a descendant and that of the Cinderwatch. To delve into those vaults of the unknown, to learn of mysteries that not every mortal faced, to risk it all… you ask all such questions, yet the answer is there that answers all your questions.”

That was when the shaman focused, as the energies of the blessing soon set ablaze, if but a moment, seeing the snow at his feet began to once more meld, almost like a bubble of heat that kept the gates safe.

“Was it not Krug that faced the hellspawn of Ibless when the rest were ready to flee? Is it not those who risked their lives against the infernal war, Mori swarms and september prince so the rest may find salvation? If no one steps up to be ready to shatter the heavens themselves in order to protect the world that one cares so deeply… Who will!?”

As the shaman said this, the cinders upon his cloak began to thum alive, the fiery sword he had well rested as he waited at that gate alone…

“Even if the citizens wish to flee, it is a warrior's honour and that of the cinderwatch to act to the call. To risk it all to stop an entity that if they win, we will be naught more than slaves like the thousands of goldvines, dreamers and other malicious souls and constructs in their arsenal to replenish what was lost. This is not a matter to simply run away from…No, Orsathiael must die here, or become sealed once more. Or our journey is truly at the end…And I least hope to survive and see another chapter in the life we live in.”

“What of the book-”

“I saw that tomb and read it well, and if fate is destined in such ways then let us greet such with will and conviction. Instead of entering an unavoidable battle of unmatched chaos and destruction with dread at every thought-” The Spiritual tattoos began to flare a burning gray. From horn to tail were such tattoos that were decorated. A soft harmless rumble came about such actions The flames running about as the heat continued its slow expanse. He looked up, and within his own eyes he could only see one of the signs of his lessers, for a moment the red eclipse that flashed.. At least in the shamans own eyes, the final thing was the reptilian eyes of his sharpened if but a moment in the densing snowstorm, looking in the direction of Orsathiael.



“-instead of facing them with fear and cowardice. I choose to take the chances to survive and fight against such fearsome odds, for all is worthless should we lose. Instead we should face them with the determination and willpower to survive, even when countless rogue gods and end of the world threats have come time and time again at the borders of descendancy. I would rather face such with confidence and all the hope one can muster to face an entity that matches or even goes beyond the dragons or gods of the world. To risk it all, to protect your friends and loved ones, to protect the world that makes you happy, and the hope to see a safer future. That is the duty of CINDERWATCH… . I shall heed the call of Aruzond and Sordran. Come, Orsathael…This land has become your prison, yet now it shall become your grave.”



The Jusmia awaited at the gates of the perfect engine, duty bound and ready to fight to protect those he held dear and the innocents of the world. The amber eyes of his glowed in shamaic energies as he held true to the ideal to protect the weak and wounded. As was his duty, his promise…A promise he refused to compromise... And not just one. He had to protect the ones he cared for the most.


 

Spoiler

This isnt some glorified PK doompost, Just that I'm so greatful to be part of the cinderwatch eventline, The world events in general and even some final moment Rps before the big event, that i could not phathom to just make some simple paragraph reply to:
 

So, I thought to myself "Why not do a nice RP post in response instead from a few hours after getting the parchment? Rply trying to fight a daemons sounds impossible but lets have some fun with it."

@squakhawk @Werew0lf and the rest of Story team that is involved with the eventlines. I just wanna say thank you for an amazing storyline yall have done throughout the year, From giant cog and caverns, sorcerers comet, and this to finish a chapter in lotc's history. No doubt its something i'll enjoy looking back too from start to end.