Leonarc

Kings & Killers: A Classic Fantasy Adventure (Chapter: 0) (COMPLETED)

Just the RP just start? Thinking of joining.

I Dub Thee: Rust Shaver!

I see you, combing through the 1x1 interest forum...

I Dub Thee: Rust Shaver!

You know, I'm a brilliant surgeon. I could probably help with that bump...

I Dub Thee: Rust Shaver!

Repeat after me:

"This is my rifle! There are many--"

Wait, no. Wrong reference. -Ahem-!

"With this oath I state my strong and irrevocable intent:

“To pledge my sword, my creativity, my non-work hours and everything that is not nailed down to my partner's defense, honor and further knowledge of the Fictional Mysteries, of the Order of the RoleplayersGuild and of my companions in arms; to the rescue of such Temple of the Holy Sepulchre of our Lord Mahz, of the Land of the Internet and the archived domains of our fore-nerd-fathers.

"That with all my being I shall shave my partner's...rust from his worn out blade. To shatter it fully and reforge its battle-born cracks into something new and worthy of Righteous Purpose!"

And so upon speaking this promise, I anoint thy shoulders with my eldritch sword, and appoint thee from squire to knight, Sir or Lady Rust Shaver! It is your duty upon accepting this quest to help me mend what's been corroded, shake loose the weight of forgotten time, and find glory in the Halls of Wonder! And so join me as I set out anew into the Abyss of these Eldritch Adventures!

Now, back in the Ether of this non-reality, I am Leo: An old vagabond of the role-playing world seeking to set my feet down once again along its Silk Roads. It's been quite some time since I've walked among such forums, and I plan on finding the love I once had for it. Not just that, but as many of my friends and communities of old have faded like so many others, I seek kinship with new and exciting people. Especially with those who love to explore the unknown.

Here are my requirements (taken from my Bio):

Only looking for 1x1 partners. (Up to 3 total).
Only RP as Male, and do not do MxM Romances/Yaoi. MxM adventures are fine.
Prefer Mature and 18+ Content. So be 18+. I enjoy freedom over a Pound-Me-in-the-Ass-Prison.
Prefer threads to PM's, but don't mind the latter.
Currently in the -6 GMT Timezone, and fairly Active. (Post a few times a week. No less than once).
Prefer Advanced partners. A solid grasp of the English language and storytelling is a must.

Adventures I Seek:

Fantasy. (From medieval fairy-tales to Tolkien. Westeros doesn't count).
Horror (of the overwhelming and unknown).
Action/Adventure. (So I can hit bad things and get loot).
A mix! (If you have an idea for a genre outside of the above, but mixes them. e.g. Science Fantasy, Western Horror, etc. As long as it involves something of the unknown, avoids realism, and provides a quest of sorts.)
Romance is fine as long as it's a side story to the main plot.
Ultimately, I like uplifting stories. While I like to explore dark things, it's not to become a part of them. Rather it's to overcome them or explore the questions they provide.

Don't wanna explore high schools, most animes, Cannon Character fandoms, soap operas (Space Operas are fine), anything depressing/nihilistic. (This list may be edited in the future).

Most ideas and what not can be negotiated. I might like to stick to my niche, but provided I can add my own flair to your ideas then almost anything is possible.

Currently, I don't really have any ideas myself. However, I love to brain-storm things, and are a leper of the accursed world-building community.

Now, Do Your Worst.

Lord of the Iron Brands [Leonarc x megatrash][Mature]

“I am no child of God. I was only alive by the graces of the King, and now that he is…dead, and my men are gone, I have no earthly bonds. Everything that I built my life around has died tonight along with them.”

Tobias gazed at the ground as he listened to her, thoughts dancing along his past in relation of her fate. Its tune was a pattern he had heard before from the many people he had crossed paths with, always bloody...always isolating. He had almost grown numb to it now; so much death simply becoming nothing more than an entry within the scrolls of history, or the plain words written on a tombstone, 'Here Lies a Man'. He could feel himself gripping the skin around his wound, the pain a reminder of the humanity he held onto. With a deep sigh, he drove it to the back of his mind and pulled out one of his daggers.

“Ye need not be a child of God to be sheltered underneath his wings,” he said as he pulled her towards him. “With this temporary brand, you will protected from any spirit.” Pouring a little bit of water from his wine-skin onto the earth, he made mud. Then taking her arm and drawing the sleeve back, he rubbed some on her forearm. The knife in his other hand began to sing until the pummel burned softly like the dusky sun. “This will sting, but only for moment.” Gripping her wrist, he placed the brand onto the mud-stained skin for barely a second and let go, leaving a white relief of the symbol. He let the knife cool before sheathing it.
“It will only last for three days, but we should be behind His walls sooner than that.”

After Amelia soothed herself from the slight pain, she continued. “...I am sure with your… contract… you are very accustomed to living a life free of attachment, but I am not.” That was not quite true, but he remained silent. “I remember hearing stories of such brotherhoods when I was a child. I had assumed they were all fables.”

“Aye, there be plenty a story about us,” Tobias said, peering about into the dark forest as he sat back against the wall. “But few would believe the truth even if half the fictions of their superstitions were true. A man's mind is not meant to understand such things.” He spoke almost as if he were describing himself, eyes glazed within a dream. Sighing, he nodded to her as she bid goodnight and continued to watch the moon's light hide behind swaying limbs.

He had lost something that day, and for the first time in a long time a wisp of true fear snaked around his heart. It did not leave even between his prayers or mental fortitude. A sense of fate rose within him as he drew in Ameila's form with his eyes, noticing a hue about it. He banished the thought in an instant and closed his eyes, focusing on the tasks at hand. Once he could hear her slow and even breathing, he quietly slipped into the shadows.

†††

A frost settled upon the night as the witches hour drew closer. Moonlight pulsed through the trees at the height of its power, casting the world within a blue film. Only the whistling wind and aching wooden bones spoke. A sense of death settled throughout the forest.

Tobias felt every hair on his body stir as he woke in an instant. Every sense was overwhelmed by the familiarity of what snuck closer, their whispers filled with blasphemy. He watched from above in the crotch of a tree as unnatural movement slithered toward where Amelia slept. There were several of them, each shrouded in hoods.

“T-Tobias?” Amelia called.

Barely aural laughter replied.

“Clara...” Tobias twitched at the voice as it spoke to her, albeit with a different name. He held his breath as they came closer.

Suddenly, they stopped and looked before them.

“Wards...what silly traps they are.” A voice whispered. “Samson, remove it.”

A larger fellow stepped in front of the group and took out a sword. Sticking its tip into the ground, he dragged it onto the boundary.

Like flint on steel, sparks arose from the edge and burst into a golden flame. It wrapped around Samson and in the blink of an eye roared about. The light revealed his human face as it screamed in horror, arms stretched out as he turned toward his masters. They stepped back quickly, trying to hide their disfigured faces from the fire. One of them fell forward to the ground with a knife in his back.

“Be consumed, devils! Ye shall not escape my flames!”

Tobias drove his sword into the nearest demon and shoved its body into the others. One of them bounced off of Samson and into the flames, letting out inhuman shrieks as it was consumed. A third rushed Tobias with a stiletto as he withdrew his sword, and pierced his' leather jerkin inches from his organs. Just as the demon was about to strike again, Tobias stepped back and slid his sword at an angle that both caught and cut the demon's hand. The dagger fell to the ground as the creature dropped back in pain.

The Nazarite doubled over in pain with luck as a heavy wind swooshed past where his head had been. Looking up he watched as the devilish leader pulled his mace back to swing again with a smile on its face and glee in its golden eyes. The canvas of flames cast the demon in a destined light. For the first time in his life, Tobias imagined his own death and froze in that moment.

Lord of the Iron Brands [Leonarc x megatrash][Mature]

“Wait.” Tobias took hold of Amelia's arm as she turned to leave, his face scrunched in pain. “Let me cauterize our wounds.” They stepped away from the gate into the shadows. He took out one of his blades and placed the flat tip into the flame of a torch. It blushed white quickly letting off a gold fume, sparks spitting outward warning it was ready. “Grip the bars.” He said. She turned toward an empty cell away from the dead and steeled herself as he lifted the back of her shirt up.

Amelia bit into her sleeve as the metal pressed against her skin, shaking as it was held in place. She would have fallen to her knees the second he took it away if the bars hadn't held her. Quickly, he did the same to the round hole on his stomach while grinding his teeth. His tightened face spoke of a familiarity with the pain, being something that he had done many times before. Satisfied, he paused to catch his breath and motioned for her to take the lead.

As they trekked through the camp, Tobias watched as shadows similar to the one in the prison jumped from tent to tent. He could hear the faint grunts and gasp as they overcame their prey. Feeling an ethereal bite, he sensed the spirit of the place shaking like a gust through the trees as men died or embraced its corruption. The ghostly hounds were waking from their sleep, hoping to catch their scent. He hoped the torch would not betray them.

“I have no problem killing you if the situation calls. I do not know what ‘contract’ you have, but I am hoping it includes being noble.” Tobias looked into her eyes.
“To break the contract would be the greatest of ignoble heresies. I am bound to its law. To trust or to not trust, it matters not. We are bound to its fate.” Her brow furrowed in reply, uncertain of such consequences. With a snap, she turned back to the mission.
“We must run for the tree line to the north. There,” she pointed. “There should be a wooden door covered by a thick brush. We will have to dig for it quickly before a guard crosses out path or they find Antoine in your cell.” Tobias nodded and soon followed after her as they snuck past the guard.

After a moment of searching, they entered the tunnel and soon found a ladder that must of led to a forest far north of the castle. With some distance between them now, he watched as the grief finally overtook her. He could only look at the sky as he listened to her sorrow flow freely. Finally, she sat up and turned toward him.

"You said...you were sent out to find where the first attack would be. You found it. Now, what? What is your objective?" He sighed and walked over to her, placing his bag between them.
“For the past ten years, I have been following a man, and wherever he has gone has summoned spirits here or there and left many dead,” he said while pulling out a cylinder-shaped case, opening it to reveal a map. “From what we have gathered, all of it points to signs of the Enemy waking up...troops.” The map was a detailed etch of England and had several lines tracing in sharp triangles between towns and villages. “Roars of ancient beast have been heard bellowing from caves that reach to the center of the earth. Draugs and wights have been seen among old forest. War is coming.” He stuck the torch into the ground as he spoke, using both hands to hold the map close to it.

“Now, we must seek sanctuary, though from no church; be the first place they'll search for.” Roaming a finger across the map, he stopped. “Here will be a nunnery near Old Sarum. A monastery is close as well, so that I may speak to my brothers.” Rolling the map up and putting it away, Tobias caught the earliest flutters of the North star. “East and then south is our path.” He kicked the torch to the ground and smothered it with dirt to put it out. “Let's create some distance and then find a place to rest for the night. Dusk is upon us.”

Once Amelia centered herself they moved along through the forest until it opened into open hills. From there it descended into a plateau that went on for a few leagues. Well into midnight they journeyed until they found the edge of a dark forest, its branches reaching out as to welcome them. The trees were thick and gnarled of age, casting ancient shapes of forgotten ages from the bright moonlight. In the silence, you could hear it breathe through the wind dancing along its sylvan bones and bristle manes. And with a loud moan it swallowed them into its bowels.

Far inside the forest, they found a small enclave of ridged stone muddled with dirt and dozens of roots hanging from its short ceiling. Not being able to build a fire, it was the best they could do to stay out of the gale's cold song. Just as they were settling inside though, Tobias pulled out a specific knife that was thicker than the rest, and began dug deep lines into several circles just inside the opening. He ended it with a prayer and finally sat himself just inside the maw of their shelter.

“If there is anything else you wish to know, ask me now before you rest. I will be taking the first watch.”

Lord of the Iron Brands [Leonarc x megatrash][Mature]

Tobias' eyes were restless as he listened to Amelia describe what had happened. Her words painted a scene he had hear a many times before, often from those whom none believed. Yet his question remained in his mind as he watched shadows run to and fro from scintillating torches. They took on shapes in the flash of an eye before melting, dancing with the light as to hide their illusion. A game was being played with the pieces already set in motion, and now they were nearing a final turn.

Her partner burst into the room. “...The King is —“ Tobias' head shot up at those words. Dead? His mind immediately went to the queen and her prophetic words spoken behind a devilish mask. And remembering the darkness settled behind her, things began to make sense. He could feel one of his brands burn on his stomach. Someone had opened a door beneath the castle's roots and into the depths of the inferno. Someone powerful.

Once the two of them finished, he watched as Amelia held back the emotion of the recent news.
“What would this attacker want from me? Could it be what killed…the King?” After a moment of thought, he shook his head slowly. Why they would use this girl was beyond him?

“Clara.”

Both of them looked at one another. He could feel the same dark wind flow over the room.

“Amelia!” Tobias screamed, as a ghost threw her into a wall. He pulled at his chains in great wrath, blood dripping from the cuffs. The metal moaned as they stretched underneath his growls of resolution. Suddenly, she was dropped as Antoine returned. Tobias fell to his knees with heavy breath, still looking at her. What is that bastards game, he thought. He watched Amelia leave to get the keys to his cell, and then turned his attention to the other man.

“Boy, see if you can find a nail or any piece of metal equal in size.” Tobias said. Antoine only stared at him from across the room. Eventually, he walked up to the cell with a sullen face. “Hurry, please. They're surrounding us as we speak.”
“The hell you talking about, heathen?”
“This place is tainted by dark spirits in its entirety. It seeks to devour all those not like it.” Antoine raised a brow suspiciously, eyes looking into the prison's shadows as if he believed him.
“Like the thing that attacked Clara?” Tobias nodded. “So where is it?”
“I can't tell. This whole place is filled with so many spirits it blinds my senses.” Antoine kicked at the cell bars in frustration, unsatisfied with that answer.
“It has harmed the woman I love twice. I will not sit idle for it—“

A black ghostly hand took Antoine from behind and lifted him into the air.
“For it to what?” A horse voice mocked. The man tried to elbow and kick whatever it was, but found nothing but air. He began to gurgle as the claw wrung his neck harder, taking hold of the cell bars and trying to pull away. “Watch closely, Nazarite.” The demon said.

With it's other hand, it summoned a hollowed coin. Inside it bore a design familiar but unknown to Tobias; and yet, he understood its meaning. Glowing white with fire, the demon pressed the coin into Antoine's neck and laughed as he screamed. It set it there far longer than it needed until the man passed out in sheer pain.

“That's not possible!” Tobias exclaimed. The demon only smiled as it sat the body down, then caressed its face.
“It is, my dear Tobias. No longer shall we live between the gates of heaven or hell!” It sliced open a scratch across Antoine's back and let the blood flow as its faceless lips reached inhumanly to each side of its face, eyes burning in great hunger. With a shriek it dove into the open cut like the fumes of a furnace returning to its fire, and in moments the body began to twitch.

Antoine's eyes opened wide like a newborn and glared joyously at Tobias. Working one limb at a time, he slowly stood up against the bars and chuckled. With a moan it clawed its finger across his skin.

“To feel the blood rushing inside, the emotion brimming throughout my brain, the lust of all his desires toiling from his soul! I live again!”

At the sound of quickened footsteps, the demon took hold of the bars and slammed his head several times into them. Amelia came running into the prison soon after and stopped a few feet from Antoine, he on his hands and knees. She rushed to his side.

“Amelia, no! Run!” Tobias screamed. She looked at him confused before she saw Antoine's hand slap across her face. Trying to unsheathe her sword, he drove his fist into her stomach, all but paralyzing her. Within a flash, the demon had locked an arm around her neck and drew her sword, its tip set against her back.

“Finally! This was taking too goddamn long!” He kicked the back of Amelia's legs and forced her to kneel. When she tried to speak, the demon simply squeezed her throat. “Now, straight to the point. Break—your—contracts, or she dies.” Tobias glared at him, deeply breathing through his nose. To give the Enemy the very weapons they used to keep them at bay was the greatest sin a Nazarite could commit. Closing his eyes, he prayed to God to give him an answer. “Oh, Mon amour, watch as he chooses whether or not to betray you; him and his false god.” The demon pressed his erect member against her back as he spoke. “And after this, I'll take you to a place where we can fuck til the stars fade and no King or Queen will ever displace you ever again.”

“Enough!” Tobias shouted. Head held in shame, he looked up into Amelia's eyes. He was defeated. “Give me a small blade.” The demon tilted its head.
“Why?”
“I will need to...remove the brands I have before I can break the contracts.”
“That sounds...painful. Mmm, very well.” A knife from Antoine's belt drifted into the air and fell before Amelia. “Darling, would you be so kind as to slide it to him?” The tip of his sword pushed ever so slightly into her back, drawing blood. “Carefully, mind you.” She took a quivered breath and took the knife, tossing it to Tobias. It clattered before him, stopping short. “Oh, you tease! Making him reach for it! Why hadn't I thought of that?”

Tobias first reached for it with his arm, but came up short. With a sigh, he pulled off one of his boots and used it to hook the blade closer until he got it. The demon booed Tobias for the clever trick. Finally, after putting his boot back on, Tobias lifted his shirt revealing those three brands. His hand shook as the blade drew closer, fear settling in his eyes.

“Come on with it!” The demon jeered.

Leering at the demon, Tobias ground his teeth together. A strength came upon him, however, and he looked up at her. “Forgive me, God.”

Closing his eyes, he held his hand around one of the brands and pushed the edge of the blade just behind it. His lips trembled as the knife drove through the skin, though he did not scream. Teeth clinched together, he grunted again and again with each cut. At last when it went through, he collapsed to the ground on all fours in pain. Both the knife and the piece of skin fell beneath him.

“Oh, he has to cut them one at a time! I'm not sure I'll be able to hold my excitement for that long!” Tobias did not react to the demon's words. He simply couldn't focus, panting and grunting through the pain. “Hey, we don't have all bloody night, Toby! Oh wait, yes we do. Please, continue.” With a sob, Tobias steeled himself and took both the knife and piece of skin in his hands. And just as he got to one knee, he threw the skin at the torch near in one natural motion. It gleamed blue a second before hitting the flame—and just as the demon pushed the sword an inch into Amelia's back—ignited into a burst of Holy fire. Its light burned at the demon's flesh and threw it back.

“Amelia, go into the cell with my bag!” He ordered. Disciplining herself against the pain in her back she did as he said and unlocked the small cell next to his, shutting the gate behind her. Antoine leapt up from the ground and ran at her, sword slicing through the bars inches away from her. “Take the sword, then throw me the keys!” She quickly found the sword underneath his bag and unsheathed it, parrying another blow. Once she felt safe, she threw the keys at him.

“GODDAMN YOU!” The demon screamed. “YOU WILL NOT ESCAPE THIS PLACE!”

Free of his shackles, Tobias felt his strength return to him and a renewed wrath burned in his eyes. He ran over to Amelia. “Give me the knife strap in the bag!” She did so. Once equipped, he placed the key chain around his wrist and pulled out two knives in particular, walking up to the gate. Parrying a thrust with one blade, he slashed at the key hole with the other, and instead of sparks water splashed across the threshold. He did this several more times with the other dagger, which released a frost, all while continuing to avoid the demon's sword.

Knowing what Tobias was doing, Antoine kicked open the gate with a shout, frozen metal flying everywhere. He knew it was his only chance to kill him and slashed his way into the cell, driving back the priest. Knives were not Tobias' expertise, and so he kept being driven back or around to avoid the rapier's bite. And just as he caught the sword between his blades, the demon back-fisted him across the face and almost fell to the ground. Only with the grace of God and his reflexes did he side step away from a cut that skimmed across his belly.

Anger flashing in the demon's eyes, Tobias rolled underneath a wide slash and drove the icy dagger into its leg. At the same time, he drew another blade with a thronged guard and caught the demon's next swing, punching his last knife into Antoine's ribs. Amelia screamed as she watched him slowly stiffen into a sculpture of ice until at last he moved no more, except for his mournful eyes.

Tobias withdrew and sheathed his knives, walking out of his cell and to Amelia. She swung wildly at him the second he unlocked the door, almost striking him once before he took her to the ground and locked her wrist.

“We don't have time for grief! There's going to be dozens more demons and their thralls crashing through the door! Steel yourself, now!” She pounded her fist against him in reply, not being able to hold back the emotions of knowing both her father and lover were now gone. After a moment, she simply lied back letting the tears blind her. Tobias let out a shaken breath before taking the sword and going to his bag to equip himself. Once fully clothed and armored, he returned to her and placed a soft hand across her cheek. “Once we leave the castle, I will give you all you need, but right now we need to escape. Are there any passageways out?”

The Chains of Odin [Leonarc x Angel Vicky, 18+]

His soul tethered like a thread to his body, Brími wavered underneath the waves of ethereal power spilling from the immortals surrounding him. With each flash of light from the descending maidens, he felt like he was going to ebb from his earthly body into oblivion. Reaching out he found himself stilled by the comfort of a being of perfection, her mighty wings sheltering him. He watched her as she studied his spirit and reached into his heart to pull from it a tapestry, her violet eyes looking confused.

"My Lord. Regarding this one," she said. "His life seems to have been cut short, I felt a disturbance in the timeline." Cut short? Brími thought. He then jumped at the sound of metal striking stone and watched the robed figure turn to the woman.
"What have I told you about using your mother's powers? The future is never set in stone. She knew that. And you should know that." I don't understand. The maiden stood surprised, compassion in her face.
"But surely, you can see for yourself this isn't right!"
"ENOUGH!" Odin shouted. "You will send his soul to Hel. Do not disobey me again." Brími's eyes widened in fear as the Lord of the gods judged his soul, turning to stare into this woman's eyes as if to plea for his sentence.
"Do you ever think sometimes, you might just be wrong. Just. This. Once?"

Suddenly, her hand sat over him and poured the same green light into his body. It felt like a thousand bolts needling the threads his soul into his flesh as the deepest cold overwhelmed every sensation he had ever known. All he could do was scream as life was returned to him, though it felt like death. The last thing he saw was Odin's spear thrust toward the Valkyrie in judgment and her armor shattering into flecks of light as she was thrown to the ground beside him. Seeing the fear in her eyes he sought to turn toward her, but then all was black.

Brími...Brími, my son...

A deep voice woke Brími as he began choking for air, hands reaching around his throat. The sudden breath of life burned throughout his body and he tried to turned toward the light. Small hands reached underneath him and helped him sit up, which allowed him to breathe deeper. Once he caught his breath, he turned to see a familiar woman sitting at his side. Without the light or her wings, he did not recognize her at first, but soon remembered what had happened. Yet her long brown hair and violet eyes captured and calmed him. He knew this face.

“Who...who are you?” He asked with a raspy voice.

Lord of the Iron Brands [Leonarc x megatrash][Mature]

Rolled up against the cold wall, Tobias, for once in his life, slept soundly. He found himself in a nameless ocean floating on his back and watching the wind play with the clouds. The sun's uncertain light settled a warmth over him as if tucking him in the covers of heaven. The lapping sea itself caressed his beaten body like a lover exploring every bruise and scar, kissing each one and curing the poison deep within his bones. Smiling, he watched as the faces of his family took form in the wisp, slowly playing out a scene from when Tobias was young. Yet as quickly as they came, they melted apart and took on the shape of Ameila's, face. At first uncertain, her expression smiled even though something veiled itself behind her eyes.

A kick to the back drove his dreams into the abyss, taking him from its light into the darkness of his cell.

“Wake up, prisoner!” A ratty voice commanded. Acting too slow, his assailant grabbed him by the shoulders and threw him into the wall. The man held him there until he was satisfied Tobias could stand and stepped away.

Piercing the silence, a woman's chuckle sent a chill down his spine, making him look up to see the curvaceous outlines of her body in the sparsely lit moonlight. He could not see her face, but knew no woman outside of royalty would be standing in dungeon. And though he had grown accustomed to the castle's spirit, he felt himself shake at the darkness behind her. It felt solid and yet was not.
“Mmm, I'm delighted to finally meet a Nazarite priest...in the flesh.” She walked up to Tobias and ran a finger down his chest. “Especially one as young as you. From what I've been told, mostly older gents make up your ranks.” Her face was covered in a black veil, though her pouty red lips shone through. The tip of a sword rose to his neck as she came close enough for him to delve into her burning auburn eyes. “Suppose it explains such inexperience. To be caught with no way of proving your innocence...tsk tsk.” Tobias steeled himself against her spell as the darkness behind her reached to kindle his desires.
“What is it you want?” He asked.
“What does any woman want when standing next to a chained untamed colt?” A flash of light flickered across her gaze as her lips grew closer, making Tobias turn his head. She snatched his chin to turn his head back, the scent of perfume and something else drawing into his nostrils. Closing his eyes, he steeled himself with memories of the past and his faith in Christ, yet he felt a sudden aggression rise inside him. Somehow sensing it, the other man dabbed his sword into Tobias's neck drawing blood. The woman let out a moan at the sight of it, slipping a hand down his breeches and leaning in to whisper in his ear. “If you relinquish the contract between those brands and your soul, I'll set you free...in more ways than one.”

The mere fact she knew of the contract shocked him, and he pulled the chain of his right arm up fast enough to slap the blade away. At the same time, he pulled her hand out, grabbed her throat, and positioned her as a shield between he and the other man.

“Drop your sword and give me the keys, or I crush her throat!” The sword quickly clattered to the ground, and the sound of jangling keys fell somewhere near his feet. As he tried to kneel down to get them, the woman grabbed and applied pressure to his left arm, making it release her and both of them started to scuffle. Her technique and unnatural strength was twice that of a veteran, and he ended up flipped over in tangled chains. Once she caught her breath, she let out another soft laugh.

“Tails I win, Heads you lose, my dear colt. I guess we'll have to get those brands the traditional way.” She smiled before letting out a shriek, and the rumblings of what could be a cavalry almost broke the gate down. Both knights and guards spewed forth to beckon the damsel's call, and soon the place was lit with a dozen torches. One knight came to the woman and knelt.

“Queen Lucía, what happened? Why were there no guards at the gate?” Tobias gaped at the women as he was encircled by several guards, watching as the Queen skillfully tugged at their heartstrings. With tears, sobs, and whimpers, Lucía told them she had come to ask why Tobias had done what he did, as she was the Godmother of Roger's child. And that Tobias used sorcery to disarm her guard, then forced himself onto her, though the collar around his neck weakened him enough so that she could escape. They devoured every word, so much so he was beaten nearly unconscious. Even King Geoffri after hearing of this came down to question Tobias, but could not get an answer.

“Stranger, if you are not willing to give us your defense, then I have no other choice than to obey the law. You will be burned at the stake tomorrow at midday. Yet I am a fair man. Give to me an explanation for these accusations, and I will postpone it for a trial.” The King knelt down at Tobias's bruised body and gave him an empathetic look. “Please, young man. Give me a reason not to kill you.”

The Nazarite Order was a secret sect within the Church. Only the pope and a few colleagues knew of its existence. As such, they were all alone. Tobias laid his head down as tears strayed down his face. The King simply shook his head and walked away. One by one, the room emptied until all but the guards left. A sense of hopeless overwhelmed him and echoes of whispered laughter sung from the darkness. He embraced oblivion.

“Wake up!” A familiar voice rang out in the void as Tobias opened his eyes. Ameila stood at his cage, utterly distressed. He sat up, grunting in pain. “Since you’ve been in our camp, strange things have been happening to me. If you have magical abilities like they say you do, tell me what this is.” His brow furrowed as she revealed the three claw marks on her back, and then the hand prints around her neck. He knew what they were, but something was not right. “Tell me what is happening...why are you doing this?”

After a moment, he sighed deeply and decided there was no point in keeping his secrets.

“The Enemy has awakened. I, Tobias Hawkings, Knight of the Nazarite Order, have been commanded to find the base by which they will send the first wave.” He stood and held out his right palm with the branded cross, then lifted his shirt to reveal three more brands in a pattern around his navel. “It led me near here, where I was ambushed by one the enemies' Princes. And, of course, by Enemy, I mean Hell.”

At the mere mention of the word, the spirit of the castle quivered like a quake to come.

“However, I have a question for you.” He walked as far as his chains would let him. “Why are you alive? Demons, like the one that took Roger, don't let their prey live...ever.”

Lord of the Iron Brands [Leonarc x megatrash][Mature]

The second Tobias stepped into the shadows of the castle's gate he sprung back into a soldier in sheer dread of its spirit. It was like staring into the abyss of a dragon's maw and slowly watching its teeth close in around him; something he had never sensed before. In his mind, it appeared as a wall of impenetrable oppression covered in a nest of malicious shadows and countless webs. It held his mind bound in its mesmerizing jaw, even as he felt himself shoved to the ground and kicked with steel toed boots. The pain simply didn't register as all sounds and sensations were muted and he began to shake.
“Looks like he finally noticed the gravity of the situation, eh, boys?” Alex said, getting a chuckle from the other men.
“In that case, how much you wanna bet he pisses himself?” Another solider asked.
How can they not feel it? Tobias thought. Even a man of the weakest faith could see the place for what it was. Finally, he disciplined himself enough to drown it out and stand, though he used a shoulder for support.

Deeper into the heart of the castle's walls, Tobias began to feel sick from being bombarded from spirit after spirit. His flesh burned, yet felt cold like a fever. Eventually, he was so drained that he almost blacked out, but not before they arrived at their destination and placed him inside one of the larger cells by himself. After taking off his armor and coat, they attached shackles on each limb, especially one around his neck that was said to have weaken witches. The last thing he heard was the rings of metal and leather as the soldiers placed his belongings in a small cell across from him. Free from them at last, he crashed onto the floor into a sea of terrifying dreams.

A cold splash of water ripped him from his slumber, causing him to cough as it snuck up his nose. Eyes open, he saw three men: one stranger and two soldiers, one of which he recognized as Alex. The first man, a bald guy with a hungry look in his eyes wore an apron and gloves, the kind used for something special. The other soldier looked like a captain, sporting a black beard and a glare that spoke a contempt, though more likely a scar from his past in dealing with pagans. He rubbed Tobias's pendant between his fingers ritually, as if it would whisper its secrets to him. After a moment, he cleared his throat.

“I will tell you this once, heathen. Answer my questions and I will see to it that you have even the slightest chance of ever leaving this prison alive.” He dropped the pendant. “Lie to me or hold your tongue, and I will let this gentleman do what he wishes do you.” He crushed it with the heel of his boot. Tobias could only clinch his fist as the only thing he had of his family was broken. He dared not look the man in the eye as to not betray his cold expression.

Believing his warning sufficient, the captain continued. “Alright, let's start with something simple. My name is Captain Cecil Barrington. What is yours?” Tobias held his tongue. A moment passed and Cecil let out a deep breath.
“Are you sure this is your choice?” He asked. Silence. “Alright, Felix, gather your to–...”
“I ask for a priest,” Tobias interrupted. A look of surprised and then anger flashed across Cecil's face. “I wish to confess my sins and give my life to Christ.” The captain could not believe what he was hearing. He knew what Tobias asked, and that it was as good as spitting in his face. When no one said anything, Alex turned to the captain.
“Should we send for a priest, sir?” Cecil ignored the soldier as his contempt grew into spite, and his breathing raced. “Sir–“
“Get out! Both of you!”
“But Cap–”
“Now!” Alex was taken back, but saluted before grabbing Felix by the arm and leaving.

At the slam of the door and the turn of the key the captain rushed Tobias, gripped him under his chin and pushed him against the wall.

“You will not hide the truth of your crimes from behind a priest's robe, scum!” A mailed fist drove into Tobias's stomach, causing him to double over. The other hand grabbed his braids to pull his head up. “You will confess only to me!” Another blow. “Tell me what happened to Roger and his son!” He pressed Tobias again into the wall and coiled his other arm ready to strike.

Trying to catch his breath, Tobias couldn't hold his blank look any longer and answered with a sorrowful expression. The image of the infant's branded body tore at his heart, enough to water his eyes, though he neither cried nor said anything. He was met with a metal slap across the face and shoved into the wall. “God damn you! Tell me why you killed my brother?!” Tobias stared at Cecil in horror. Overcome with his words, he began to say something, “The truth would destr–“

“Captain Cecil!” A voice barked from behind. Cecil turned around immediately in recognition and looked surprised as the castle bishop stood there in the doorway. He released Tobias, causing him to slide down against the wall, then turned to greet the priest. “Father Cain, I can explain...”
“You seek revenge, yes?” The bishop asked. Cecil looked away for a moment in shame.
“But he killed my nephew!” Cecil said.
“Allegedly, Cecil. Are we as Christians now going to condemn a man based on the words of another?”
“Elise would never lie!”
“So if your found your son and wife dead, you would have enough faculty to speak the truth? Or would you say and do anything to find the one whom killed them?” The bishop's words sting Cecil, silencing him. “You're a good man, captain. But you are above neither man's law nor God's. I ask that you leave so that I may try to save this man's soul.” Tears fell down Cecil's face. He nodded, then walked to the door, pausing to look back.
“Will you tell me the truth, Father?”
“You have my word I will tell you what you need to find peace,” Cain promised. Satisfied, the captain left and the door was locked once again.

A sense of relief calmed Tobias as he watched the priest walk up to him and sat down on a wooden stool. Cain took out a cloth and gave it to Tobias to wipe the blood off his mouth.
“Now, what is it you wish to confess, my son?” Cain asked. Tobias got on one knee and held out his right hand, palm open for the bishop to see. Cain gasped at the sight of a branded cross and looked over his shoulder at the door. “You're a Nazarite?” Tobias nodded. “Then what happened at the Barrington farm...”
“They took the boy's life and possessed Roger to ambush me.” Comprehension settled on the bishop's face, then he bent over close to Tobias.
“Almost got you, didn't we?” Cain smiled and grabbed the chain around Tobias's neck, forcing him to the ground. “In the name of God, I command thee to speak thy name, devil!” He thrashed Tobias about with slaps and shoves, parodying an exorcism. At the same time, he backfisted and continuously slammed him into the ground between shouting biblical verses. Even with Tobias's supernatural strength, he could barely defend himself from such demonic power. When it was clear the thing inside Father Cain was getting bored, he stood up and began wiping the blood of his hands. “Well, unfortunately, boy, I can't kill you yet. But don't worry, watching a man of God burn will be the most arousing thing I've seen in centuries.” With a kick to the groin, the bishop paused to catch his breath, then turned and walked to the door. “Guards! There is no hope for this heathen. There are more important souls I must attend to.” Looking back, he winked at Tobias and finally left.

Tobias laid there in pain, grunting as he tried to breathe. Nothing felt broken, though he heard pops and cracks as he sat up. How far does the darkness of this place go? He thought. In the beginning, he had sensed dark movements in the nearby town, which is what brought him there in the first place. Now, at the center of it all was practically a marketplace of Royal meatsuits waiting to be filled with a malignant purpose. He remembered what one of his old mentors use to say, ”If you're surrounded by enemies and getting the shit kicked out of you, you know you've pissed on the right hive.” With a pained chuckle, he closed his eyes to meditate and hopefully gain some of his strength back.

Not long after, he heard the prison gate open again, expecting a fully host of soldiers to take him to his trial. What he saw was quite strange, however, as two people in plain clothes walked up to him. The first was a beautiful woman with an exotic look, though oddly wearing men's garb. Her noble features told him she was of Royal blood, and found her tied up braids, not unlike his own, interesting. That and she wasn't covered in shit. The other guy was built like a rock, tall and confident, yet with a perceptive look in his eyes unlike a soldier. He stood over her like a dog waiting to snatch a bone.

“My name is Amelia,” she said. “I am going to cut to the chase. What is your name, and who sent you to kill Roger?” He remained silent. When he didn't answer, she moved onto something else. "I heard that you spooked some of my men. They say you possess some sort of magical ability."

Tobias sensed something about her the more he concentrated, losing himself in her ice blue eyes. Neither hers or her friend's spirit tasted of corruption, and yet there was a strange beat beyond her heart, a small light of something hidden. It had been suppressed for a long time. However, the sheer density of darkness in this place scrambled his senses, so he was unsure what he felt. Cautious, he decided to test them.

Just as he noticed them becoming frustrated, he spoke. “You could say that.” The half-confession surprised them, though the man snorted in response. “The truth is in my weapons. Go get one.” They looked at each other, unsure of Tobias's game. Amelia eventually nodded and her friend went to the guard to get the key for the other cell. Tobias watched closely as the man opened it and pulled out one of his knives. Nothing happened. The man brought it over to the woman and gave it to her. Again, nothing. He sighed knowing he was dealing with mortals for once.

“So what does it do, Merlin?” She asked.
“It pokes things.” He said. Her eyes sharpened.
“...and?”
“Helps me shave.” The other man laughed.
“This is a waste of time.” He said.

Tobias suddenly caught the movement of a shadow against the far wall, eyes following it as it snaked slowly towards the two guests. It pounced and he instinctively jumped forward, but the chains dragged him back to the ground. A barely audible mocking laugh echoed in his ear. This was just the beginning.