The Wanderer. . .

[Kickstarted and Running 965]

He sat in the tree, watching as all he knew sailed away, he smiled to himself under his hood, and thought of them. His friends, loved ones, strangers, all gone, just him left. This made his heart fall, as he remembered all the good times he had, even when Aegis was in it's death, there was always them. There was always hope. As they sailed off, to a better place, he knew that they would live a better life, for anything had to be better than what they left from, a once beautiful land, now broken, deserted and claimed by an ancient evil. After seeing the last of the ship vanish over the horizon, he climbed down from the tree, and listened to the sounds around him, only, there were no sounds in this place. Everything was gone. No life, no birds, not even the insects seemed to reamain. He looked around, and after making sure all of his things were ready, he set off on a long walk, a walk of realization, and discovery. He had to find out how to stop this taint from reaching the people again, and he needed to find out soon. He swore to himself he would keep his friends safe, and that's what he intended to do.

Hmm. . . I sense you are a little confused. This is expected, for this man is a mystery to most. Now, I suppose I should tell you this man's name, well I cannot do this, for not even I know his name. Only that he goes by the title of the "Hooded Wanderer" and is rumored to have been here since the lands were first birthed themselves, but this can't be true though, as nothing lasts that long, does it? Nobody knows quite where he came from, only that he wears a robe of deep blue, and a hood that never comes down. The robes are of a fine make, with the most elegant silver threading and an overall craftsman ship that has been lost since the ages of old, in the times where we know nothing of, when the old things roamed. He is a rather strange person, only ever speaking with a soothing, but firm voice and words that flow out of his mouth, like honey. He came to me, before he vanished suddenly, and told me of his plans, telling me that he was staying, I asked why, and this is the only time I have seen him remove his hood. As he did so, he looked at me with crystal blue eyes that could cut Bedrock and said with a pained look on his face "To protect the people" and let a single tear fall from his eyes. He had feelings for these people, and no matter how much it hurt to leave them, he knew he would see them again, in the afterlife, or in the flesh. It is his way, and for as long as i've known him, always has been.

I think you understand now. At least, as much as I can make you understand. Now, where were we. . . Ah, yes, he had just set out into the Old Lands of Aegis. He had walked for many a day, and was still no closer to his goal. He was about to give up, when he remembered why he was doing this. It was not for him, that would be wrong, no it was for the people who inhabit this realm. After he gained new strength in his veins, he set off once moe, but it was not long before he encountered an unlikely friend. As he was wandering through the forest, one of the small sections left, he say a small dog, walk up to him, and bark. Confused as to why it was still living, he examined it for any taint, after seeing none, he uttered the first words he had said in weeks, "Unbelievable. . ." and gave the dog a small piece of meat. This dog followed him wherever he went, and they soon had a strong bond, closer than he had felt with any other being. The Wanderer never really got low on food, people had abandoned their homs so quickly, they had left more than enough supplies to last him years. He would often find interesting things, lost books, ancient heirlooms, and other odd nicknacks that would make the happiest of plunderers, but he would meerly leave them. To rob the dead and gone was wrong, and he had a much larger goal. He needed answers on how to stop the taint from getting to the New Lands.

He wandered for what seemed like years, but he was never sure. Time lost meaning to him in this Old Land. He wandered to familiar places, strange places, and long abandoned place. He then found himself at Snowy Fields, after what he was sure was months from the last time he saw any form of significant building. As he saw the remaints, he knew his answers would lie inside. He looked at his dog, smiled and walked in, not once expecting what was to come. He wandered around inside the ruins, searching everything, grabbing anything that looked important. He must have spents days sorting through the rubble. Then, he found it. He leaned down, and pulled up some fallen timber and saw a faint glint, noticing it as important, he moved away the rubble around it, and picked up the shining object. When he saw the staff, and the writing on it, he knew it was Undead. Too caught up looking around, he never even saw the attack happening. His only warning, was the his from the mouth of the Undead.

He quickly dropped the staff and drew his gleaming sword. The Undead, knowing what the enchantment on it would do, showed more caution to the Wanderer, for it was a bane of their kind. The Wanderer quickly took stock of his surroundings, he counted 5 Undead, and no foul minions from the ground. His dog was their too, and was ready to defend him to the death. After a prolounged silence, one of the Undead hissed "Give us the staff, and your death will be painless, mortal." The Wanderer, know he had to make it back to his friends over the ocean, answered with a brash retort "If you want it, you'll have to pry it from my cold, dead, rotting hands, you disgusting piece of filth." The Undead, clearly displeased at the Wanderer's decision, suddenly attacked, in a whirlwind of robes, the Wanderer charged them with a prayer on his lips, that made the beasts recoil in the slightest, giving the Wanderer a few precious seconds do gain the edge he needed.

The slashed at the throat of the one who spoke, and it squeled in it's death as the blade touched it's rotted flesh. The others, seeing their comrades fate, quickly lunged at the Wanderer, poisened blades in hand. The Wanderer spun just in time to deflect a fatal blow, and rolled back a few fet, and drew a vial, with some rather deadly contents inside. Tossing it at the lead Undead, it shattered and coated him in a liquid that made his scream in pain and rendered him nothing but a pile of dead flesh and robes on the ground. The other 3 rushed past their fallen comrade, in a rage of their fallen allies. But rage, renders even the sharpest of minds, dull and useless. The Wanderer stayed calm, and knew what he was going to do. As the beasts charged, he lowered his sword for a stab, that would kill the lead Undead. As the Undead charged, they didn't see the Wanderer lower his blade at the last second, and it impaled the lead Undead, all the way through, killing him as he slid on the blade. The Wanderer had no time to celebrate though, the other two were upon him and he was weaponless.

As the 2 Undead hissed, and circled around him, the Wanderer looked around for a weapon, know they would be upon him in an instant if he went for his blade. Then, his foot hit something on the ground. He looked at it slightly, and saw the staff. This, he thought, was his way out. He prepared himself slowly, getting ready to use the staff when he picked it up. The 2 pieces of filth were now in front, and one behind him. Then planned to charge him and make sure he was killed by at least one of them. Without warning, the lunged, but the Wanderer ducked and pulled up the staff, and pulled out the power in it. Fire rippled out from him, and burned the faster of the 2 Undead, incinerating him. The second Undead, fearing the same fate, moved back, and hissed at the Wanderer "Your resistance is futile, we will just keep coming. Give me the staff, and I will tell my masters you died." Knowing the Undead scum was lying, the Wanderer said this "How about this, we duel for it, in honorable combat. No armor, not poisen, just a piece of cold iron." The Undead made and sound of what the Wanderer realised was a laugh, and hissed back "So be it mortal, your soul now belongs to Ibless"

The 2 oppenents gathered their blades, clean iron, and nothing but their clothes. They circled, waiting for the other to strike, for what seemed like several minutes. The Wanderer was growing tired. That burst from the staff weakened him, and the fight was exhausting. He put all he had into it. He started to slow, and lose his focus, ant that's when the remaining Undead stuck. He hissed a dark paryer, and aimed for the throat, the Wanderer had no time to bring his blade up, his death was imminant, then his dog, leaped from the shadows and took the blow, while his opponent was confused, the Wanderer took his blade and swung with his remaining strength at his opponenst nech, shouting a prayer to Aeriel from his soul.

He slumped to the ground, holding his dying dog. As he looked at the wound, he would have been able to save his friend, but alas, the scum had poisened his blade, and there was no hope for his friend. He sat by his friend, untill he died. He waited for hours, never once stopping his hope that Aeriel would save his dog. Just before his best friends death, it looked at him, licked his face, and died, peacefully in the Wanderer's lap. The Wanderer removed his hood, and he cried. He cried because he knew he would never see his friend in this life again. He cried for what seemed like hours, before he finally stopped. He had to keep his promise to his friends back home. He had to keep searching as the staff was just a staff, and it was then it hit him. He knew how to stop the corruption. His friend had shown him how. Putting others before you, and never giving up hope in a good thing, no matter how small, is how they could stop it. He gathered his things, and picked up his dog. He walked, he walked untill he found where he had first met the dog.

As he stood in the forest, he remembered when he first met the being that turned into his best friend. He knew this is where his friend had to stay. This was where he belonged, and it would be wrong to bury him anywhere else. After he buried his friend, he made the place into a grove, and prayed for 7 days to Aeriel, not once stopping for more than a sip of water or a bite of bread, to have this place protected, for this being was truly the worthiest of any to go to Aeriels kingdom. After a final goodbye, and a smile on his lips, he set off to the place where the ship set off rom, and started to build his way off this Old World, and step into the new one.

((Not done yet, gonna add more later.))

[steelersfan1221 300]

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