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Crusader Lord
Scrawl BandittaRinaldo clicked his tongue as he carefully withdrew from the presence of the court mage, eyes answering the princess' admonishment. With a slight curtsy, he understood what that kind of glare meant perfectly. He was beginning to outstay his welcome, specially in the tracts of land who apparently, were part of the crown's possession.
And then the young lad exposed his story, having been probed by the old man's rather cheeky tongue. He eyed curiously as he undressed. "Hmm, so you want to show it in images? My good fellow, I am flattered but I don't swing that way..." He paused for a brief moment. "Usually."
It was then when he decided to practice magic with him as a target. Rinaldo stoically stood there, taking the blow with an exasperated sigh, before shaking his head.Oh, so you want to be the cool guy by using an old man as a target for your sorcery. Bravo sir, bravo. Having fun with your magic? That's why I find holier than thou nobles so annoying. And, no, it seemed that whatever he had done, it'd drip off his shirt for who-knows how long.
The conversation about the arm, however, did ring a bell in the old man's face, and seeing the eager interest of the court mage, cogs began to work in Rinaldo's mind.
Although nobody seemed to pay him attention, so he began to spin around himself like a graceful dancer."Run and run in circles about your predicament, that's what you have done. But fret not, the generous arcane arts of our court mage have the solution." He said. "Or maybe, just maybe this old man can claim he has seen something similar." He added, as he advanced in his dance towards the only female who wasn't crown property or the princess herself. The shield lady. The old man smirked, and with lightning quick reflexes, grasped her waist with one hand, and a hand in the other, as if it was some improvised dance couple.
"Yes, I've heard a tale. Of a demon armor, old and forgotten, who decided to dance with a little girl. It looked similar to yours, and it operated on demonic magic." He added as he moved deftly Christina around, before ending his dance and spinning her around her axis back in her resting place. "Soulscale... is its name. Maybe it knows about yours. But then again... I am a very forgetful old man, and my memory fails sometimes." He added, a hint of chagrin in his voice.
Nero shivered, as she clung to the last, perhaps literal shreds of dignite. Her eyes stared at the floor, still computing what had happened. Fanilly's orders were but a blur. She had helped her sister, and just because she had that kind of queasy feeling about the two nem, who had reminded her of she and Sult when they were younger. Gritting her teeth, she eyed Fanilly, and then the armor.
"That piece of armor is still part of the Raven Knights. But do what you want. That piece of scrap isn't worth even to plow the soil of a barren land now." She grunted, as she wobbled walking through the tomb. At some point she even forgot to cover her shameful bits, her hands still gripped into fists as she ascended. She was hardly alone, though. In her back, her very own reflection, Sult Sunfield. Gone was the playful attitude and glamorous visage. This Sult looked haggard, and dishevelled, and simmering with barely contained rage.
"Noo! It's waaay to cold and damp! Gross gross!" The demonic entity flailed about as it was encased in ice, putting a rather impressive fight by eating as much mana as it could, but it was clear that the holy seal had done quite a number in its power.
Nero's eyes darted to the sisters, before bursting into laughter, tired and battered. "This is quite ironic, you know. Twins. Just like us, Sult." She finished as she kept going upwards.
The sight of two knights, tending to one wounded man and a half-naked, battered giantess covered in bandages greeted the group upstairs, as their expectating sights tried to find Nero, the captain.
"Hey, you. Sult Sunfield." One of the knights rudely gestured as he threw the cape. "Where's the captain Nero?" Bobd addressed, sternly as he glared in the half naked figure of Nero. However, he did not so for long, as a rather sudden elbow in his ribs from his brother drew more attention.
"Bobd..." He ventured to say, pointing in the direction of the armored Sult.
"Oh Reon they're multiplying..." Bobd mused, his eyes darting from Nero to Sult and viceversa. "What the hell is this supposed to mean? And what's with the demon encased in ice?" He added, reaching for his blade.
"Like, are you daft?" The chirpy shrill voice of Mariah came from behind, her eyes looking at the half naked of the sisters. "Captain Nero! You lost your armor! So did Mariah..."
"EH!?" Both brothers double blinked.
"Mariah knows, Nero is a girl, okay? Like, we took baths together, um. Mariah also made her underwe..." Maria ventured to ramble, but she was cut short by a finger shoved in her lips. Nero's finger.
"They get the idea." Nero snarled, as she huddled herself in the cape. "Well, don't keep ogling, you two! Help the Iron Roses to pack up!" She said, her voice laden in tiredness.
And then the young lad exposed his story, having been probed by the old man's rather cheeky tongue. He eyed curiously as he undressed. "Hmm, so you want to show it in images? My good fellow, I am flattered but I don't swing that way..." He paused for a brief moment. "Usually."
It was then when he decided to practice magic with him as a target. Rinaldo stoically stood there, taking the blow with an exasperated sigh, before shaking his head.Oh, so you want to be the cool guy by using an old man as a target for your sorcery. Bravo sir, bravo. Having fun with your magic? That's why I find holier than thou nobles so annoying. And, no, it seemed that whatever he had done, it'd drip off his shirt for who-knows how long.
The conversation about the arm, however, did ring a bell in the old man's face, and seeing the eager interest of the court mage, cogs began to work in Rinaldo's mind.
Although nobody seemed to pay him attention, so he began to spin around himself like a graceful dancer."Run and run in circles about your predicament, that's what you have done. But fret not, the generous arcane arts of our court mage have the solution." He said. "Or maybe, just maybe this old man can claim he has seen something similar." He added, as he advanced in his dance towards the only female who wasn't crown property or the princess herself. The shield lady. The old man smirked, and with lightning quick reflexes, grasped her waist with one hand, and a hand in the other, as if it was some improvised dance couple.
"Yes, I've heard a tale. Of a demon armor, old and forgotten, who decided to dance with a little girl. It looked similar to yours, and it operated on demonic magic." He added as he moved deftly Christina around, before ending his dance and spinning her around her axis back in her resting place. "Soulscale... is its name. Maybe it knows about yours. But then again... I am a very forgetful old man, and my memory fails sometimes." He added, a hint of chagrin in his voice.
Nero shivered, as she clung to the last, perhaps literal shreds of dignite. Her eyes stared at the floor, still computing what had happened. Fanilly's orders were but a blur. She had helped her sister, and just because she had that kind of queasy feeling about the two nem, who had reminded her of she and Sult when they were younger. Gritting her teeth, she eyed Fanilly, and then the armor.
"That piece of armor is still part of the Raven Knights. But do what you want. That piece of scrap isn't worth even to plow the soil of a barren land now." She grunted, as she wobbled walking through the tomb. At some point she even forgot to cover her shameful bits, her hands still gripped into fists as she ascended. She was hardly alone, though. In her back, her very own reflection, Sult Sunfield. Gone was the playful attitude and glamorous visage. This Sult looked haggard, and dishevelled, and simmering with barely contained rage.
"Noo! It's waaay to cold and damp! Gross gross!" The demonic entity flailed about as it was encased in ice, putting a rather impressive fight by eating as much mana as it could, but it was clear that the holy seal had done quite a number in its power.
Nero's eyes darted to the sisters, before bursting into laughter, tired and battered. "This is quite ironic, you know. Twins. Just like us, Sult." She finished as she kept going upwards.
The sight of two knights, tending to one wounded man and a half-naked, battered giantess covered in bandages greeted the group upstairs, as their expectating sights tried to find Nero, the captain.
"Hey, you. Sult Sunfield." One of the knights rudely gestured as he threw the cape. "Where's the captain Nero?" Bobd addressed, sternly as he glared in the half naked figure of Nero. However, he did not so for long, as a rather sudden elbow in his ribs from his brother drew more attention.
"Bobd..." He ventured to say, pointing in the direction of the armored Sult.
"Oh Reon they're multiplying..." Bobd mused, his eyes darting from Nero to Sult and viceversa. "What the hell is this supposed to mean? And what's with the demon encased in ice?" He added, reaching for his blade.
"Like, are you daft?" The chirpy shrill voice of Mariah came from behind, her eyes looking at the half naked of the sisters. "Captain Nero! You lost your armor! So did Mariah..."
"EH!?" Both brothers double blinked.
"Mariah knows, Nero is a girl, okay? Like, we took baths together, um. Mariah also made her underwe..." Maria ventured to ramble, but she was cut short by a finger shoved in her lips. Nero's finger.
"They get the idea." Nero snarled, as she huddled herself in the cape. "Well, don't keep ogling, you two! Help the Iron Roses to pack up!" She said, her voice laden in tiredness.