Lady Knight Quest 3

previous thread: suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/46670983/

Your name is Jeanne Callahn Elianor, and you present yourself in front of your brother, watching your humble aid on your royal quest fall unconscious to the floor. Isabella's armor chimes and echoes along with the half started shriek she gave out before her body went limp. The general behavior of bowing down to your superior locked you on spot, and you resent that you were not quick enough to react and catch her, but such a display would look off. You have to keep a certain iron image of yourself, you cannot save every loyal subject from suffering and such is a thing you learned harshly.

What could have happened however, was a not so painful grip and a far lesser harsh use of the divine attributes both of you are blessed with. You are also displeased about how you were addressed. You are the eldest child, and though you are not First Corvan, you still maintain a position of respect as the King's first born child, AND Second Corvan of the Order of the Six.

However, your eyes are upon the fallen knight in front of you. Your sibling merely stares at his hand as his fingers curl and stretch within his gauntlet. He must still find the sensation strange. You suppose it still hasn't been very long.


[1/2]

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The hall fell into silence a few moments ago already, but nobody seemed to really move significantly, so you take this moment to be the first one to rise and clear your throat.

"Alters Pat and Henry." You spout their names, like their higher-up in need of filling in a lot of reports. You don't have to turn to them to hear their heads rise. "Return to your quarters. Much of the assignment is to be discussed here." You let your words echo until you've heard their metal suits give out their movement, gesture, and steps away from the vicinity.

None of them say a word. They've both heard this tone of voice before and they know it's something that has become more often along the years, and they have their own connotations. You won't like having to explain, but you'd rather be left alone with your sibling as of this moment. You have much to discuss and express, and you choose to give him a piece of your mind first.

You start by:

>[ ] Reasoning how such a treatment was unfair. Remind him of the objective you both have, and demand that he carry Isabella.
>[ ] Sternly scolding him. Such brash treatment of those who have aided is not tolerable in the slightest.
>[ ] Giving him a glare of forced scorn. Absolutely unacceptable behavior. Warn him of his actions.
>[ ] Silence. Let his eyes and conscience feast on what he has caused.
>[ ] Other (write-in)

>[x] Giving him a glare of forced scorn. Absolutely unacceptable behavior. Warn him of his actions.

>[ ] Silence. Let his eyes and conscience feast on what he has caused.

Just a bit of a level gaze.

Well...shit. Suppose it's because it's a monday today, but gotta need a few more than that.

I also wanted to start today off with drawfag bullshittery, but unfortunately I don't know how to nor got to it in time.

>[ ] Silence. Let his eyes and conscience feast on what he has caused.

Here.

Changing my vote to

>[ ] Silence. Let his eyes and conscience feast on what he has caused

So we have 3.

Alright then, silence it is.

As much as the entirety of your being wanted to scold him about how such a thing was completely avoidable, and by the gods, you can feel such churn inside your bowels, you really, really want to say a good amount that would represent your general distaste for his actions, but you know that your silence isn't golden at all, and it has worked multiple times.

"Phillipe." You say, your voice stern and only slightly disappointed in tone, echoing through the tall, polished, marble chambers of the cathedral built in honor of your pantheon.

Your level gaze reaching for his equally blue eyes, you wait for his head to turn, and when it does, it is accompanied by a curious look from your younger sibling.

"What?" He asks, like he had done nothing wrong. Still a characteristic of him that persisted through time, and such makes you sigh, but you let your silence prolong and your visage burrow him naturally.

His look turns slightly uncomfortable and he looks away from you. "Enough of that look. I am the appointed First Corvan by the King and such was the best course of action."

Silence was your choice, and you stick to it. In fact, you let him observe that you crossed your arms and blinked, waiting for a better excuse, and that such information does not change your stance

"Remeber that I said it would present hardship for both. More so for her if she even makes it."

You take note that his eyes are actually avoiding looking at Isabella, and that his left thumb was rubbing against the gauntlet. He begins turns to walk away but you clear your throat, cocking your head in her direction, which was given response by an audible groan.

"Surely, you must jest. I, Phillipe Elianor, First Corvan of The Order of the Six, am not going to carry a lowly errant knight." He says with a commanding confidence, one you both helped each other build, and that you know how to destroy.

[1/2]

You lean your head position to make sure your eyes question his assurance with accuracy. If such did not work, you had a couple of words prepared, but as soon as you breathed in to speak and sharply dissect his excuse, but his hand is raised and his eyes are closed by the time you were going to.

"Fine. If it will spare me from your lecture, I will carry her myself." He mutters, not wanting to admit his defeat so loudly.

You huff in your own small victory, but it is here that he directs his gaze in a similar manner, although less sharply and less judgmental, which makes your stance tense up. You know where you went wrong before he even started.

"Though you were about to reveal the existence of the Magister to two Alters and an unranked knight. You ought to tell me if my own actions were that unjustified." He continues, just as you expected him to, in the same muttering as he walked to your direction and sling your valuable aid over his pauldron.
Luckily they were both armored, and the trek wouldn't be too arduous or long, nor would any of them feel much discomfort, taking in account Bella is unconscious.

His words stung a little as both of you started to walk towards the altar in the middle, Mar Neler, the warrior god, brandishing a sword as great as himself, held heroically with the tip facing the ground, his clenched fist near his facial features. You pressed the small plate upon the wall that you knew would dislocate the statue itself to the side, revealing a set of stairs that both of you walked downwards to.

What do you say towards him?

>[ ] Disregard such a statement. Bella helped you and those two are your close friends. There would be no trouble.
>[ ] Take the blame, but let it not serve as an excuse for his actions.
>[ ] Admit to such, but present the reasons why you would mention the Magister in the first place.

>[ ] Take the blame, but let it not serve as an excuse for his actions.

>[ ] Disregard such a statement. Bella helped you and those two are your close friends. There would be no trouble.

>>[ ] Disregard such a statement. Bella helped you and those two are your close friends. There would be no trouble.

>[ ] Take the blame, but let it not serve as an excuse for his actions.

>>[x] Take the blame, but let it not serve as an excuse for his actions.

But TD, that's not a tie, blametaking 3, disregard 2.

Writing.

s-shut up!

(You)


As both of you reached the end of the flight of stairs that spiraled downwards, darkness closed in. Luckily, you knew when it ended. You still remember stumbling upon the last steps. Took you a while for that, actually.

But you nod before the darkness completely surrounds the three of you.

"You are right, and I'm sorry, Phil." You start, sighing a little upon your mistake, but remaining a little confident and still slightly scolding. "But such does not justify that your presentation seemed almost tyrannical towards her." Your tone softens. It is still your sibling, after all, and he knows better. "Most here know you are now the better example of leadership. There was no need to be like...he once was towards those outside The Order."

He turns his gaze to you. He didn't seem hurt but just uncomfortable with such a comparison. You feel it was a little too far fetched in retrospect.

"Jeanne, as much as I trust your faith in others, I cannot afford to be the same. Like our trials, I must present a heavy hand to outsiders and newcomers. I'm not entirely sure if she is trustworthy. Do you believe I will find such attributes?" He looks to you when he directs his line of questioning and reasoning, his eyes seemingly asking for something as you traverse into the pitch darkness.

You place your hand upon the symbol of your Goddess that presents itself upon your tabbard, and your hand glows a light that shines the stone hallway in front of you. You nod positively at his question when you make sure he sees. "If she lives..." You add, which grants you a look of interrogation.

You feel uneasy and do not know whether or not to fully explain, but her situation is truly bad.

What do you do?

>[ ] Explain Isabella's condition and your suggestion for her.
>[ ] Mention only what you think she needs.
>[ ] Other (write-in)

Am I too late!?

>>[ ] Explain Isabella's condition and your suggestion for her.

>[ ] Explain Isabella's condition and your suggestion for her.

We're honest and trusting, after all.

Not at all, user.

>>[x] Explain Isabella's condition and your suggestion for her.

>boobplate

dropped

>[ ] Explain Isabella's condition and your suggestion for her.

Yeah, that hustled my autism as well, but calm down. This is well written enough to consider it jut a minor infraction

That's not a representation of the character, but alright there user, see you around.

>>[ ] Explain Isabella's condition and your suggestion for her.

04015You both walked the long, featureless stone hallway under the level of your cathedral. You let some silence set it in. You weren't completely comfortable with explaining her situation, but such is necessary taking in account what it is you feel is the only way that she has a chance of even making it out alive and in one piece.

"She has a curse upon her being." You can feel your own dread when you said it yourself. "I could not properly heal her ankle after she fell from a tower in the vicinity of the dragon's lair. Someone cast it upon her, and it is strong arcane that I have never felt. It is most foul and noxious to the soul and the body. We need the Magister so we can cleanse it. Maybe exorcise her even. I fear for her life, Philippe. I want her to live and be rewarded for her bravery and efforts." You cannot avoid your own sentiment of worry and pity upon going through such life threatening rituals that you only had the privilege to read about upon becoming Second Corvan. You do not wish that upon her, the solitary knight that helped you and ultimately might have saved your life.

Philippe's expression is hardened but he seems to understand the situation, giving you a nod when you turn your head to him. You sigh and smile a little in thanks.

The two of you stop in front of a wall, and Philippe gestures you to the small lever that you pull. You hear the simplistic mechanisms on the walls making the place slightly shake, the small segment of stone lifting, the light of the moon now shining upon you as the two of you continue to walk towards a small building that encounters itself secluded from the rest of the small town.

[1/2]

The building was seemingly annexed to a larger one, both made out of stone and high enough to probably feature a small floor beneath the room, perhaps storage of sorts, and since you are the one taking the lead, you are also the one that is met with the door of the smaller of the two buildings.

You look back to Philippe with a discomforted look, and he shrugs his free shoulder towards you. Neither one of you really knows how to proceed correctly here, taking in accounts all other times were always inconvenient by nature. The Magister is really someone that hates to be disturbed when doing anything, but you think they just really hate company in general by the way that they seem, and there was really no right way to do things when it comes to asking their service

Do you:

>[ ] Announce your presence and knock. You are a high ranking member of The Order. You will present yourself with due title.
>[ ] Announce your presence softly and knock. Better play it safe.
>[ ] Open the door flat out. This is an urgent situation.
>[ ] Knock and wait.

>[x] Announce your presence softly and knock. Better play it safe.

>>[ ] Announce your presence softly and knock. Better play it safe.

>>[ ] Announce your presence softly and knock. Better play it safe.

>>[x] Announce your presence softly and knock. Better play it safe.

I CAN'T FUCKING BELIEVE I LOST A POST HOLY FUCKING SHIT


Re-writing with much salt

Bad luck, OP.

(You)

You really aren't prepared for what comes next. Whenever you two came around to ask the Magister, you were always greeted with annoyance like you were disturbing something really important that was happening, which is the attitude that you're going to take when knocking at their door.

"Magister?" Your fist raps gently against the wooden door, making sure that the noise that came out of it was sufficient to be heard. Which wasn't hard, this is the quietest part of the entire vicinity, as requested by them when they demanded their own quarters. "It is the First and Second Corvan here, we hate to disturb your work, but I have a most urgent task to ask of you, may we come in?"

Before you even took your breath back from your small choice of words, the door opened without you even hearing any sort of steps or movement inside. The Magister presented themselves before you, a black cloak and hood embroidered with silver adornments on the edges followed that very step you took back from the surprise.

You keep noticing that the only thing that are uncovered by the cloak are their hands, frail, and slender, the sleeve being shortened for the convenience of their movement.

"I find it strange that it is you who takes a step back when I am met with two, no, three fully armored people at my door, Princess." A young female voice is heard, and they always sound tired, like their voice has been exhausted. Those same hands pull off the hood, revealing a young elf, with a skin a tone darker than yours, which isn't hard taking in account your milky white skin, platinum blonde hair, and an unsettling set of greenish yellow eyes. They have always looked eerie to you. They take a good look at Isabella and you really feel like you ought to stop her, as she is looking so strangely at her.

[1/2]

Her silent gaze turns itself to you. "I would've asked what the urgency was, but I can sense it from here." She turns around and walks into the darkness of her own home. "Come." You hear, as you and your brother walk into her very house once more. The two of you duck, but a metal pan chained to a high place seems to hit Isabella instead, the clang being heard. You feel bad for a second, but keep record that this never seems to fail every time you com here.

You hear a snap of fingers, and a flaming sphere is above all of you, lighting the vicinity of the house. You can never cease to be curious over how filled with books and different kinds of leaves and small snippets of nature are decorating the walls, ceiling and even the very bookcases that stand as tall as the building. She is about your height, even if she's a little jovial, you always wonder how can she reach those.

The Magister is already turned to you, and her finger points to the ground. "Drop her there, and leave." She says towards Philippe, to which he complies to the first but remains there.

"Absolutely not. I will remain by my sister's side always." He assures. You feel a little happy that he said such a thing, as he-

"As you wish. Princess, remove her armor and clothes. Same for yours." She says, completely interrupting your thoughts. You look towards him with a very awkward and intense look. You cannot express that you don't want to be left alone so compromised but you also really want him to leave very well.

Philippe remains in his own silence and furrowed brow as he evaluated carefuly what he had heard. He takes less than a couple of seconds to walk out and close the door. As he leaves you turn your head to the Magister with a sigh and a wide eyed look.

"I don't expect you to understand, but you will have to assist me in a couple of things if you want her to live."

>[ ] Refuse. There must be another way.
>[ ] Accept with reluctance and questions.
>[ ] Silence and total compliance.

>>[x] Accept with reluctance and questions.
Fucking lesbians

>[ ] Silence and total compliance.

>[X ] Accept with reluctance and questions

>>[ ] Accept with reluctance and questions.

And that'll call it a day.


Thank you all so much for playing, for any news and updates here's my twitter twitter.com/trapdoars


Will be here for any further questions, we'll be starting next thread with the winning option, and maybe some drawfag shit!

Bad OP. Bad! Leaving us like that.

fuck can anyone archive this I gotta go

I archived it at suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/46901117/

>missed it all
Shit.
Oh well, thanks for writing!

thanks user!