Graded [Isekai Hell][September Event]Will You Walk With Me?

[Clyvelle]

Goal
1. Follow your friend as he talks about the past
2. Enjoy the Ryken countryside
3. Get some points

Cast
Ciu'nan
Michael​

 

[Clyvelle]

You don't recall how you met him, but you find yourself on an enjoyable walk out in the Ryken wilderness with a young man. Looking at him, you know him as your very dear friend, Coen Sheer. If anyone were to ask, however, you couldn't say for sure where or how you first met. Be that as it may, no one thinks to ask as your small group seems quite content to follow him as he tells you about the places you visit.

The group is touring the countryside of southern Ryke not far from the border shared with the fae country. Everything has the appearance of being cleansed with a recent storm that passed through the area. Though everything is still wet from the rain, the weather seems to be turning to fair conditions. It is currently approaching noon as you walk through a prairie bordered by rivers to the north and south that meet at a point further west. The terrain is vastly irregular with various grave markers in various states of decay amongst odd mounds and depressions.

Coen carries a golden plate with him. He says it is for burning incense at a particular shrine, which is the end goal of your current walk. He says you should reach it by evening, but he wanted to show you a few things on the way there. Coen narrates as you wade through the graves.

"This is the Field of Raining Tears. It was the scene of a key clash between the fae people and beastkin of the Western Empire. The beastkin had launched a campaign into the fae controlled territory to the south. This was the place where the fae put a halt to that campaign but at a grave cost of life. Though neither side would admit it at the time, this battle would sew the seeds of change in the thoughts of those present that eventually blossomed into the creation of Ryke."

 

[Clyvelle]

Ciu'nan​

Ciu'nan walked along the field, delighting in the tall grass tickling her legs. The fae's hop-skipping step fell in stride next to Coen as she listened to him recount the battle that had taken place. Her eyes drifted among the many mossen and grassy mounds they walked through. Were they fae graves? Beastkin? After all these years, the only thing that remained was the anonymous markers declaring that souls were lost.

"The Field of Raining Tears...." Ciu'nan repeated thoughtfully. "They named the place after the sadness they felt afterwards. A way of repenting perhaps?"

 

[Novama]

Michael​

"Forgiveness? What are you talking about, horns?"

Michael asked with attitude. He had just gotten done tripping over a surprise rise followed by sudden drop in the mound layers. He actively checked his ankle to see if he had sprained anything while he brought up the rear of the party. He had planned on taking a break from training and missions that day. He had even dressed up some for the occasion with a mind to spend some of the money he had been hoarding, but it would have to wait.

Michael would trot to catch up and walk to the side and back from Coen so he could lead while keeping an eye on Ciu'nan. Michael had nothing bey uncertain or disapproving glances for the fae so far.

The adventurer wiped his brow lightly. The humidity was clearing up fortunately. Otherwise, he would have likely started regretting his choice in dress that day.

 

[Clyvelle]

Ciu'nan​

Ciu'nan turned at Michael's disgruntled remark. She smiled, unperturbed by his tone.

"Yes, forgiveness. It sounds to me like the people involved in the war wanted to express their sorrow for their part in it by naming this field as they did. By making their sorrow public through the name they chose, perhaps they were seeking absolution." Ciu'nan explained sweetly.

The graves were clustered here and there, creating a rough path between the bunches of graves. Some shoddy stick crosses or stones marked most graves. Rusted weapons occasionally stuck out of the ground amongst the markers. Very few groups had them, but certain patches of graves were centered around a carved stone marker fashioned into any number of things: animals, religious symbols, one looked like a sapling. Ciu'nan looked at them curiously.

"These carved markers...what are they? Do they have a meaning, dear Coen?"

 

[Novama]

Michael​

Michael's face flashed a skeptical frown. He was slow to correct his obvious discontent with the answer. He opened his mouth to debate the point further when Ciunan spoke to Coen. Michael had no interest in interrupting him if he had any additional info to share on the topic. Wouldn't be a good friend to do such a thing.

Michael looked around at the graves.

"Hm?"

Michael slowed and noticed the shoddy wooden crosses. Wood doesn't rot away over night, but it had been several decades since the war. How were the crosses still present. Michael's expression darkened at the thought there was a magic on the place somehow preserving it or otherwise lingering for other reasons. The blue knight kept his eyes peeled on the off chance their casual walk turned into more than just a walk.

He kept half an ear on the conversation as his eyes started to glow. The air around his face thickened and the blue tattoos on his face also started to glow. His eyes became more brilliant. The dense air around his face suddenly expanded out in all directions like a pulse, sweeping over the graves, grasses, and whatever else within 100ft. Michael would be looking to see if there was any odd magical circulations in the area to suggest linger or active magics and points of activity. Would note if any odd creatures were around as well. Using his senses like this made him less certain of his footing, so Michael stopped entirely, from his slowed pace, and braced himself in a shoulder width stance in case the influx of information disoriented him too much.

"I'm checking out the surrounding area for a moment. Shouldn't need to, but the day has a habit of going sidewise when you least expect it,"

Michael said out loud, but it was like he was reminding himself of how unpredictable IH was as a world. There was a rarely a mission or activity that went to plan. Was almost as if he was a hero or villian in some story book where he was involved in a disproportionate amount of trouble to catapult him to some greater ends.

• Blue Sight - Appraisal E, Supersense: Infrared Visions E, Feature: Darkvision F, Sixth Sense: Mana Vision F, Energized E, Medicine F, Arcana F - See Mana Flows, temperature variations, and appraise targets within 100ft to perceive basic arcane and medical information - Grade E - 0 post cooldown.

 

[Clyvelle]

Coen Sheer, a friend​

Coen listened to the two exchange their thoughts and doubts as to the feelings and reasoning behind the field's name. A small smile, though tainted by a hint of sadness, morphed his face into an almost apologetic look.

"You're partly right, Miss Ciu'nan. I can't claim to know everyone's heart, but I'm sure that sentiment was involved in the name to some degree. My interpretation is a bit different: those involved in the war wanted to send out a warning to the future. It's easy to understand that war inherently causes a wide range of emotions--most of which are negative. In naming the field as they did, the ancestors wanted to warn their descendants--kin and stranger alike--that warring will only create more fields nourished by tears like this one."

Coen gave Michael a nod when the blue knight surveyed their surroundings. What Michael would see is that the air around them was saturated with mana. Tiny orbs of light floated above the various markers. Additionally, he could not see Coen's mana.

Presently, their guide approached a marker shaped like a bear standing on its hind legs. Pressing his hands together, he bowed slightly while closing his eyes.

"These monuments mark entire clans that fell in the battle. Entire households and family lines charged into battle under banners depicting their family crests. When the fighting had ended, soldiers with matching uniforms were buried together where they lay. I was told that, even through the chaos of the battle, it was extremely rare to find a soldier that did not fall near the rest of his kin. Their bonds must have been nigh unbreakable, I imagine."

Having offered his prayers, he continued on from the bear marker. They approached a river at this point that had a shallow spot with stones to cross on. Coen effortlessly hopped across. On the far side was a field of wildflowers centered around a large broken tree. All the top branches had been lost, leaving only the trunk, which had hollowed out some in the years since.

 

[Novama]

Michael​

Michael's scan did not have much unexpected to it, but he became particularly aware of the concentrations of mana over the graves. The idea that mass graves like these had mana focusing near them was disconcerting to say the least.

"Each of these markers is a mass grave? What's preventing the undead from popping out? The place is a surplus of mana and corpses to animate with it,"

Michael was mostly talking without any evidence. While he had limited understanding of the arcane and medicine now, he did not personally have the means to create undead or know how it could be done short of crudely forcing mana into bodies with intent and seeing what happens.

The azure fellow would keep pace with the others as they made their way over to the hollowed out tree. Curious about the tree too, Michael would keep his special vision up to make sure nothing hostile was hiding in the hollow of the tree. Coen not having mana was unusual but not impossible, Michael thought. He kept a side eye for Ciunan, however. The fae were a tricky side of wily bunch. Michael had yet to run into a particularly intelligent Fae. Most came off as crazy, stupid, or both. His eyes were full of judgement, but he did have the sense to not keep staring of Ciunan looked his way.

• Blue Sight - Appraisal E, Supersense: Infrared Visions E, Feature: Darkvision F, Sixth Sense: Mana Vision F, Energized E, Medicine F, Arcana F - See Mana Flows, temperature variations, and appraise targets within 100ft to perceive basic arcane and medical information - Grade E - 0 post cooldown.

 

[Clyvelle]

Ciu'nan​

Ciu'nan listened to Coen's reverent explanation as he paid his respects. She, too, followed suit and offered a prayer to the bear totem. At Michael's protest to the unprotected graves, Ciu'nan looked questioningly toward him as her ears twitched.

"You must not have heard them." she stated as if suddenly realizing his hearing wasn't as keen as hers.

Ciu'nan took a cautious step towards him as she pointed to the outskirts of the field. There on the border, a mist had gathered, and every once in awhile, humanoid shapes could be seen moving about therein. Ciu'nan's heightened hearing had made her aware of them early on.

"I'm not sure if you'll take much comfort in it, but I do have a sixth sense for danger as well. If trouble does come, we'll have warning and help against it." she said, trying to put the knight a little more at ease.

She turned and trotted off to catch up to Coen, who had hopped across the river. Ciu'nan smiled at the natural bridge as she playfully hopped along the stones to the far side. A look of awe overtook her features at the field of flowers they had entered. She leaned down and plucked a delicate white flower, raising it to her nose and sniffing it lightly.

"I wish more graves were as immaculately dressed as this!" she said, voicing her delight through a wide grin.

She took long strides to place herself next to Coen once more as he made his way to the decimated trunk at the center of the flowers. Ciu'nan noticed the grave expression on his face and anticipated more solemn exposition to be forthcoming.

 

[Clyvelle]

Coen Sheer, a friend​

Coen slowed his pace upon entering the field of flowers. After Ciu'nan and Michael had joined him in the field, he began to slowly approach the tree in the center. Making sure the two were within earshot, he began to explain further.

"Yes, as Ciu'nan pointed out, the mists surrounding this place are continually patrolled. This field is a monument to an important moment in time. Though it lies in what is now Ryke territory, the fae took guarding it very seriously, especially because, as Michael observed, the many graves here."

Coen had now arrived at the tree. He placed a hand on the trunk as his crestfallen face looked to the barren top of the tree. Moments passed in heavy silence until Coen began to explain.

"Of all the graves here, this one is perhaps the most notable. The accounts of this place in the aftermath of the battle described it as "a blood-soaked wasteland that would never again foster life". Legend says that a great tree spirit referred to as Mysthira presided over these lands in those days. After the war ravaged these plains, she was greatly saddened. Unable to bear the great destruction, Mysthira withdrew into this tree. She was never heard from again, yet the very next spring, a single flower--a forget-me-not, as the legend goes--sprang up next to the tree. Over the years, the field slowly came back to life while the tree gradually withered. We honor Mysthira today for her heart and her sacrifice."

 

[Novama]

Michael​

Michael stayed close to the party. The young man was more pensive than usual. It didn't help that he could see it, but Michael felt the atmosphere of the place was oppressive. All this death and magic in there air. The fog filled with nearly unseen wardens. Had this been one of his typical missions, they likely would have already met with trouble having not detected those watchers sooner.

"This place feels like something special or sacred or whatever. Should we really be here? Perhaps I'm imagining it, but it feels oppressive to be in the place of so much death. We aren't gonna get cursed or something right?"

Michael wasn't particularly scared of ghosts in his past life, but they definitely existed in this world. They were the one thing his blades couldn't reach and his legs couldn't outrun. The stuff of nightmares.

Michael looked down at his hand and partial wrist sticking out. Blue lines marked where the mithril integrated with his body. It seemed to pulse with the magical energies in the air. The place he got those tattoos was also filled with death. He occasionally wondered if something haunted him from that time. Michael grimaced visibly at the thought.

The story of Mysthira didn't soothe Michael's mind. Not only did he have mass graves underfoot wherever he stepped, but he was then confronted with the idea that a very powerful ghost like entity had misgivings over the war and even sacrificed themselves for something, but to what avail? Sure the flowers were back, but this was no pleasant meadow and likely wouldn't be again so long as the dead lingered here and some force kept it all in.

"...Feels like i'm in a can of misery and it's only a matter of time before something spills out or creeps in..."

Michael muttered to himself, anxiously looking around while Coen gave reverence to a dead tree.

• Blue Sight - Appraisal E, Supersense: Infrared Visions E, Feature: Darkvision F, Sixth Sense: Mana Vision F, Energized E, Medicine F, Arcana F - See Mana Flows, temperature variations, and appraise targets within 100ft to perceive basic arcane and medical information - Grade E - 0 post cooldown.

 

[Clyvelle]

Ciu'nan​

One word came to Ciu'nan's mind as Coen revealed the legend behind the tree: mother. Whether Mysthira was real or only a legend, the motherly, sacrificial moral to her story rang true. Ciu'nan's eyes misted over. Though the story was touching, she did not fully understand why she was on the verge of crying. She did not think it had touched her as deeply as her tears suggested. Raising a finger to her eye, she daintily wiped the tears away.

"Do you think the legend is real, Coen?" she asked, her voice betraying her emotions.

Michael was clearly on edge, and it did not seem like he was going to relax. Being an obvious warrior, it wasn't a surprise that his conditioning to battle had him jumping at shadows and suspecting the worst in everything. He was one of those prepared sorts of individuals that missed the forest for the trees in their attempt to anticipate everything. Ciu'nan turned to him as he approached and offered another smile.

"I know it might not seem like much, Michael, but I'll hold your hand if you get too scared. Given your weapons, I imagine you'd be the best one to defend us if something should happen, but sometimes strength isn't enough to put fears to rest." she said, hoping to put him at ease somehow. A mother's instinct can't help but try to fix, even if the situation is unfixable.

 

[Clyvelle]

Coen Sheer, a friend​

Coen faced his companions after finishing the legend of Mysthira. He looked in their direction, but his eyes were distant. Michael's response to Ciu'nan's offer would break him from his trance. He appeared to not hear Ciu'nan's question.

"Michael's right: we should probably keep moving. Our last stop is back across the river to the south." said he, clearly distracted.

Without another word, Coen began walking through the flowers towards the river. The fog that had seemed so distant a few moments ago, now appeared much closer. It had casually crept in along the ground and wafted closer in the air. Visibility was still a non-issue, but the opaque wall with shifting figures in it was noticeably closer than when it had been pointed out previously.

Upon reaching the river, Coen turned to the pair sheepishly and rubbed the back of his head. This part of the river, about forty feet across, was much higher than the kneehigh section they had crossed earlier. There was also no bridge to cross this time. The current was brisk.

"We have to cross here, and it's imperative that we wade through without jumping or flying over. It's...a rite of passage, you could say. The water should only be up to your navels--maybe even lower on you, Ciu'nan. Thing is...I can't swim. I hate to ask this of you two, but...could one or both of you carry me across? Please?" he said, clearly embarrassed by having to make this request.

 

[Novama]

Michael​

Michael was immediately apprehensive to Ciu'nan's offer. His brows furrowed as he took a step back from the other two. He sternly replied,

"I am not a child..."

His fears and worries had abated for a moment. His eyes then opened with clarity in the realization he was overreacting. What's more, his swords could not cut ghosts. His training would not let him outrun those that never grew tired or drew breath. There was sense in being calm and settling themselves in the situation as it was and as they were.

"...I do not need my hand held. I may need to reach for my sword. I'll walk closer with you and Coen,"

Michael affirmed, softening his tone and being sure to keep up with the party as they moved back to the creek. Michael's eyes were briefly lost in memories of the past or lack thereof when he heard Coen's request.

"*Sigh*, you think you could have told me this was part of what we were doing? I wouldn't have worn my formal outfit had I known I'd be wading in dirty water,"

Michael was exasperated but he wasn't about to leap the ditch or let his friend drown, so into the cold water he went. His boots were of a nicer cut and didn't have nearly the scuffs or stains his other set had. Now they were waterlogged. With each splash, Michael let the cold sensation wash over him. He couldn't feel temperature in quite the same way after his abduction, but he knew the water was not comfortable. Some of his misgivings came from the the feeling of his boots getting suctioned to the bottom of the creek. Had they not been laced up, he might have had to leave one of them behind. Fortunately, his strength would seemingly be sufficient to cross. He would take hold of Coen, if he was ready, and guide him through the creek too.

(burning blue sight each round just incase something pops up of interest)

• Blue Sight - Appraisal E, Supersense: Infrared Visions E, Feature: Darkvision F, Sixth Sense: Mana Vision F, Energized E, Medicine F, Arcana F - See Mana Flows, temperature variations, and appraise targets within 100ft to perceive basic arcane and medical information - Grade E - 0 post cooldown.

 

[Clyvelle]

Ciu'nan​

Taken aback by Coen not answering her question, Ciu'nan wanted to ask again but sensed something was off as Coen urged them onward. She had been more or less calm the entire time, treating their journey through the graves with the solemnity and dignity it deserved, yet there was a nagging feeling in her gut that gave her misgivings about the whole affair. It wasn't her danger sense, so she knew they weren't in immediate danger at least, but something wasn't right. Perhaps Michael wasn't so wrong in being on edge about everything they had seen thus far?

Ciu'nan fell silent as she walked behind Coen. Michael would stick close as they approached a different part of the river without a bridge. Coen would explain that they had to wade through the river. Ciu'nan found it curious, but wading through rivers wasn't a big deal to her.

Michael would take hold of Coen, so Ciu'nan simply followed them at the ready to help if either should need it. The water was cool and the current steady. Without conscious effort one's forward progress might drift downstream. As they approached the middle of the stream, the force of the current seemed to double while the water was at its deepest. The unnatural rise in the current's severity took Ciu'nan by surprise, and she slid past Michael a short ways downstream. Producing her spear, she stabbed it into the riverbed to steady herself. Using her spear as a crutch, she struggled towards the other side.

Eventually, she made it to shore and gratefully trudged up the bank onto dry land, supporting herself with her spear a moment as she caught her breath. Suddenly, her ears perked up as she looked around. It was slow but noticeable: the fog was actively closing in on them now. Glowing eyes fixed on Ciu'nan appeared on the figures moving in and out of the fogwall. Ciu'nan looked to Michael and Coen.

"The guardians are coming! But why?!" she asked, urgency in her voice.

 

[Clyvelle]

Coen Sheer, a friend​

Coen allowed Michael to guide him. Michael would notice upon lifting Coen that he was exceedingly light. He would not burden him, however the riverbed threatened to suck him in as he crossed. The muck was unnaturally attached to Michael's feet as though it were trying to swallow him. Despite this, MIchael's strength was sufficient to yank himself free after each footfall. When Ciu'nan slid passed them, Coen would urge them on, "You have to get to the other side as soon as possible! Whatever happens, keep moving forward!"

Michael would notice unusual activity from the fogwall after Ciu'nan drew her spear. The figures moving about in the fog suddenly faced inward towards the space which they guarded, and their glowing white eyes looked to and fro as though they had just been alerted of something. Michael would see mana trails, like tendrils of blue fog, spreading outward from the fogwall. The trails wound this way and that across the graveyard, winding ever closer to them until one tendril discovered Ciu'nan planting her spear in the ground on the far shore. The blue trails abruptly retracted back to the wall as the eyes of those within it snapped towards Ciu'nan's location.

"We have to get the altar in the middle of this area! They're incorporeal! You won't be able to fight them! Focus on dodging and keep moving to the altar!"

In front of the riverbank they landed on, a six foot high fence topped with security spikes surrounded a sprawling graveyard. Mausoleums and elaborate grave ledgers dotted the area. In the center of the fenced area, around two hundred feet away, a raised platform decorated with stone totems and a central platform for offerings rose above the surrounding structures.

The guardians spend their turn moving towards party.

 

[Novama]

Michael​

Michael was not happy. He sighed through his nose frustratedly as he dragged Coen onto the bank. Up to that point, he had been fairly vocal and open with his concerns of their outing. He had even brought up ghosts, one of the few things that still spooked him despite his magically augmented abilities. Michael's pursed lips fit the glower he gave the fencing, approaching spectral defenders, and the foggy altar beyond it all. Dripping wet, Michael would have been chilled had he still had his normal body. Instead he would get to enjoy the chaffing feeling of wet fabric rubbing against his skin.

It wasn't clear to Michael whether his allies could get over the fencing or had the time to run around it to the opening if it had one. The thought of running away briefly crossed his mind when he recalled the defenders were all over the place in the mists. He didn't like his odds if he was forced to drag both his comrades. Easier to get to the altar, probably. Michael instructed Coen to step back. Cui'nan would be encouraged away too if she was close.

"Step back, I'm gonna make a path, but I can't control it very well."

Michael inhaled sharply as he closed his eyes. Mana. He could feel it all around and in his body, running through it and into it. The area was saturated in mana. His eyes knew that much from his previous scan. His hands gingerly moved to his hips where he kept his short swords, meanwhile, his hair and tattoos started to shimmer a blue color and visible blue mana tendrilled off his body. Drawing his twin mithril blades, he voiced his displeasure,

"1,000,000 rykes worth of weaponry..."

His mithril blades started to glow and shimmer.

"...and I'd trade it all back..."

The blue glow of the blades extended past the tips of the swords and kept growing, but the overall weight of the weapon remained the same as the reach increased. Why Coen and Ciu'nan were asked to step back was apparent.

"...for one, lousy, can of ghost-be-gone..."

Michael's lips peeled back from clenched teeth as he bit off a snarl against the strain of the mana flowing through him into his weapons and back. The more he concentrated his energy, the greater the energy wanted to push back and go back to normal. That wouldn't work. He needed it to be potent. Become a threat that would bring all the ghosts to the yard and wield a power that would force them to give chase. Michael finally opened his eyes to reveal they were a blue as bright as his swords if not more. They dazzled in the gloom and he was a beacon for the grave sight. Mana in the area would funnel its way to him as he created a vortex drawing in the mana to power his ability.

The blue knight would crouch slightly as he would bend his knees enough to move his weight to his thighs and increase his maneuverability as well as let him more freely twist. His right hand would flip his sword into a reversed grip (Alpha), and his left hand would hold (Omega) in a traditional grip. Both blades extended several feet out from the normal lengths, but the blue swordsman hefted them like they weighed nothing. His crouch got lower and tighter and his arms twisted around. Air started to follow the flow of the mana as Michael's ability charging was starting to disrupt the environment.

Michael shouted. He let out a war cry that had nothing to do with the strain he was putting his body under. It didn't have to do with the frustration he felt at getting tugged along on a side project to miss out on the greater parties going on back in Ryken. It was just to quell the fear in his heart at being faced with any enemy not bound by the laws of nature like he was. He had faced giants before. He had faced multitudes of endless demons. But who could kill was was already dead? Who could outrun that which did not draw breath or need to sleep or rest? His own already voiced worries swirled around with the mana that was exploding out with the ability Michael suddenly let loose,

"Lucky Enchanting Parkouring Blue Blender!"

Lucky Enchanting Parkouring Blue Blender - Fast E, Jumping E, Wall Bound F, Acrobatics F, Fighting Style E, Penetration F, Area F, Artisan(Enchanter) B, Energized B, Lucky F - An ability meant to be combined with a move action so he can cover 120ft while spinning his blades in a circle around him that can clear everything within 10ft of him. In the event he hits and obstacle he can't decimate, the parkouring of the ability should allow him to ascend the obstacle and keep going if he has enough movement. The blades would be used for traction to help dig into the ground or surface as he goes. Enchanter just augments the power of the attack while penetration reduces the material effectiveness of whatever he comes into contact with. Energize makes it possible to use again more quickly by one post and Lucky is used to ensure it get's the best outcome it can.

Michael momentarily stopped being a man to become a wheel of destruction. Rather than spinning parallel to the ground, he released the spin tension and ability energy on his side. He immediately became a blur of blue motion that carved the ground and would collide with the iron fencing with likely enough power to destroy it but could scale over it if it proved to sturdy. He would then have enough power to keep destroying for several dozen more yards. He would use his last move action to E grade fast his way to the altar for the remainder of the distance. He leverages his blender title to keep from getting motion sick during such extreme occasions. His intention would be to keep his blades out and draw aggro to buy time for his allies to also reach the altar.

 

[Clyvelle]

Coen Sheer, a friend​

Ciu'nan and Coen stood back as Michael unleashed his power. The gate surrounding the cemetery didn't stand a chance. Though both had misgivings about destroying architecture related to graveyards, perhaps this occasion should be overlooked.

It may have come as a surprise to Michael, but both Ciu'nan and Coen kept up with his movements easily enough. Unfortunately, they would not reach the altar before being overtaken by the oncoming guardians. Coen would not halt his forward advance despite coming within range of their adversaries. Where Ciu'nan would jump back or up and over to avoid the weapons coming her way, Coen would duck and narrowly weave through numerous blades.

All of them would reach the base of the altar at the same time. As Coen ran up the flight of stairs, he produced a knife, which he used to cut the palm of his opposing hand. As the blood dripped on the steps of the altar, Coen stowed the knife to retrieve the golden plate from his waist. Mounting the final steps, the young man transferred the plate to his bloodied hand, pressing his lacerated palm into the depression of the implement, as he slammed the plate down on the top of the altar.

"REMEMBRANCE!" Coen shouted, as a blue flame ignited between his palm and the plate.

The flames pulsed outward, leaving Michael and Ciu'nan unscathed, but halting the oncoming guardians. Coen turned to face his friends and their pursuers. Ash began to rain down on the cemetery.

"The rite has been fulfilled. These souls you've kept bound here are freed." Coen said matter-of-factly. "I have remembered those who died here these 50 long years and have honored my duty of releasing them to the afterlife." His eyes looked to Michael and Ciu'nan. "So now I ask you this small favor, friends: will you remember me?"

End

​

 

[Novama]

Isekai Hell RP Grade​

Novama Clyvelle


Rewards

Ciu'nan - 20 points

Michael - 20 points