Necromancer's Quest

[Miz]

A fun little private game between me,

@The Dark Wizard and @Inquisitor

________________________________

Necromancer's Quest

________________________________​

Knox

The False Keentaker
​

They told him his name was "Kieran". Apparently Kieran the Keentaker, that was what they were saying, the two men that revived him, when he awoke naked beyond a few rags thrown on top of his body. Knox knew that he was not the man known as Kieran, a man he attempted to grave rob who knows how long ago. Apparently he died though, it was all a shock to Knox. He hadn't really enjoyed the experience of dying, vision fading out and all going quiet. He tried to remember what happened to him or who he was, but all the details didn't fully come together yet. It was like an incomplete puzzle or unfinished painting.


Opening his eyes, Knox didn't immediately panic. Even if he did, the stronger of the two had him pinned. When he looked by torch-light, he could see his hands. Curling them into a fist and releasing them again, Knox focused on his hand. He was alive. He couldn't believe it. Still everything felt rather fuzzy, like a dream.


Immediately he sat up and looked around. There was some re-colleciton of where they were. He was familiar with the place, it was the location of his death. Not where he was buried, but where he actually died. He didn't get the luxury of a grave. The space was cramp especially with three adult bodies in one narrow passageway of the tomb's chambers. All around him, were the decorative black bricks that were wet with the humidity of the chamber.


He was a squatter in another man's tomb. By the rocks, he could tell he was indeed still underground but the entire tomb felt different. It was much more empty than he imagined. That was right, he was double-crossed. Knox remembered now, well figments. Not the full picture.


The two men might have been talking, Knox wasn't sure. He was just looking clueless at an elderly man. Dressed in a robe decorated in skulls, he gave the man a curious look before turning to the other stronger man that had his arms on him.

 

[The Dark Wizard]

Vangoth

The Necromancer
​

Vangoth groaned and instantly fell to one knee as his fragile old hands held on to his walking stick and slowly forced him self back up. The drain had been massive. The former black guard felt it in his very core due to their new pact, he could feel for a moment the necromancer just flicker out of assistance and yet at the same time, he got a taste of what made the old man and it was old and powerful and it was upset. It would not rest until it got what was rightfully his back.


The old man's torso briefly flickered out of existence and came back as the magic started to settle. Slowly walking over to his guard and their prize he spoke. "Well Kieran, are you here in one piece?" he asked, lifting up his walking stick and slamming it back down casting a dim green light, which was the best he could currently muster.

 

[Inquisitor]

Garrith
The Blackguard Extraordinaire



​

"I should certainly hope he's all here, else we're in serious trouble, Vangoth. I don't want to see our plots ruined by you botching a ritual. Nor do you, I suspect..." The statement was left hanging with malicious intent, a grimace spreading across the large man's face. He did indeed tower over the corpse of the great Keentaker, though after the man settled back at least somewhat into his breathing, he let go. "I trust that he will do fine, else I'll run him through and we can try again."





Big as he was normally, Garrith was quite the bit larger due to the bulk of his black plate armor. Some spikes still remained, giving the armor a rather cruel, if not wounded, look. In a way, he looked haggard without his helmet, unkempt and unshaven. Return to mortality had been harsh for the Blackguard, and his features remained sunken and disturbed. In that way, he was indeed a sick-looking creature, still adapting to his new-found mortal body.


Next to him sat a bulky sword, made of a metal with a reddish tint. Etched onto it were countless nonsensical symbols in a language beyond most mortals' comprehension. The large man grunted, wrapping a hand around the handle of it. Didn't raise it, but the implication was certainly there. "Ready yourself, Keentaker. We have much work for you to do now that you are back."

 

[Miz]

Knox
The False Keentaker
​

"What?" Knox said as he looked to meet the standing wizard above him. Knox was a man who lived off his wit but was died because of trust, so it didn't take much for him to measure the situation out. They called him the Keentaker. For some reason, they thought him to be the man Knox sought to rob. They didn't look like tomb guardians, at least he didn't think they did. They certainly weren't town-folk. By the robes, Knox guessed that he might be some sort of wizard capable of reviving the dead. He didn't know much about those kind of things.


The two however seemed to ignore him. Talking amongst each other they wondered if their spell had succeeded. Yes, it was clear that both thought him to be the Keentaker. Knox thought of his options but as the armored man spoke of running him through with his sword, he considered his options. Before Knox could really grapple his circumstances, the armored man moved to his sword and grunted.


Knox was quick, his eyes opened wide and he leaped from the pile of rags he was reborn on to another corner of the crypt. He had no intention of being killed a second time. "Work?" he said hesitantly holding onto one rag for meager protection. "What do you mean? Why do you have such a sword?" His questions were more aimed at the fighter. The armored man, decked in black plate, appeared much more threatening at the moment than the old wizard who greeted him with an offhand nature. "Who are you?" he said pointing to the swordsman and than the presumed wizard.

 

[The Dark Wizard]

Vangoth

The Lord Necromancer​

Vangoth sighed and stepped back a bit to give his new resurrected minion a chance to move.


"Garrith you should know I never make mistakes but lets move on to another topic of discussion . . . . why are you still wearing that ridiculous black armor? Its powerless to you now. Honestly . . . . mortality doesn't look good on you at all" sizing you up with his own eyes.


Returning his gaze back to Kieran. "Yes work, I have returned you from the dead to get back something that was stolen from me, only something that someone with your talents will be able to accomplish."

 

[Miz]

Knox
The False Keentaker
​

Knox looked back and forth between the two men. The wizard spoke about how the swordsman did not need the armor he was equipped. That it was useless now. As Knox examined the armor, he could tell that it was far more intimidating than he first imagined. It was heavily damaged, full of cracks and missing hunks. It still retained some of its devilish spikes and it was covered in fine writing that was glossy even in the torch-light. Mortality, the wizard explained didn't look good on the man.


The wizard though did eventually turn his attention to Knox. Right now, Knox felt vulnerable, he had no real weapons or any armor. Hell he didn't even have any real clothes. He was just a man returned back to the flesh like the first day he was born. "My talents?" Knox asked before realizing this is where 'acting' would take place. The men seemed to be quick to possible draw their weapons and they wanted Knox to be someone. So Knox determined he will be whoever they want him to be. It was the obvious and only solution. "Oh yes," he said affirming the wizard's claims. "That must be a very powerful something if you went all this way for me," Knox said rather boisterous. Ironic, speaking he still coward behind some peasant rags.

 

[Inquisitor]

Garrith
The Blackguard Extraordinaire



​

"I, Vangoth, will remove my armor whenever you find me a new set. And, perhaps you should consider removing your robes as well." He narrowed his eyes, examining the necromancer thoroughly. "You don't look too fine yourself. I hope me killing you didn't do too much harm." He looked sidelong at the returned Knox. Practically naked, he almost felt pity for the man. Perhaps it was worth finding him something that wasn't just a pile of rags to tie to his body. Worth looking into, at least, soon. As well, the plate. More important than the man's rags, of course.. To find a replacement set that wasn't sundered was paramount to his own survival, damn the rest of them.


Back to the Keentaker, practically naked as he was. "It is indeed, and your skills will be useful. I hope you still know how to break and enter as well as the legends tell. If not, we have a problem. And don't worry, Vangoth, it is not your mistake if that is the case." He pulled the behemoth of a sword from the earth, moving it back to the sheath hanging behind him. A thoughtful look passed across his face, if for a brief moment. He stared off into the distance for a minute, then came back to the real world, and the group. "Perhaps the first test of his talents would be to steal us new clothing."

 

[The Dark Wizard]

Vangoth

The Lord Necromancer​

"Oh you know Garrith that its water under the bridge. I mean if you hadn't done what you did we wouldn't be in this mess in the first place but all is forgiven. However in regards to my robes, you will find that you will have a harder time convincing me to stop wearing it. Unlike your armor my current attire still holds power." Anyone staring could have sworn some of the faces moved.


As he explained he pulled out a beautiful golden goblet from one of the many dark places inside that you assumed were pockets. You remember the beautiful cup from your escape from Vangoth's lair, the cup that once belonged to a now forgotten king was enchanted to periodically generate a liquid that allowed those who drink it to teleport, at least it was way more powerful then a regular teleportation spell as it could get past wards and other barriers.


Running his boney finger around the circular edge of the top, it caused a small beautiful noise. "It only has enough power to take us back to the surface before it makes more."


He said waiting to see what the plan of action would turn out to be, apparently the current train of thought was to test the Keentaker by having him steal some new attire.

 

[Miz]

Knox
The False Keentaker
​

Knox listened to the two other men banter between them. He could tell that form how they spoke, the two men were not typical peasants. Their accents were nobility in nature. However Knox never heard such an accent before on a fighter. Well a brutish fighter like the one apparently named Garrith. Knox tried to gain as much knowledge as he could from context clues. The two were arguing over armor and robes. Apparently Garrith killed the wizard, who went by the name Vangoth.


"Rather cruel," Knox said with some bravery. Though he was still rather timid about his insult to the other men. "But yeah, I can infiltrate places." It was a true statement, Knox was very good at breaking and entering into places. Not as good as the Keentaker, he basically invented the art of breaking and entering, but he was fairly proficient at his job. Brushing his head, he felt weird to have hair again. It was ungroomed and unkept. However his fingers did feel rather boney and cold. Maybe he still hadn't recovered fully from death. Something that he was still trying to act casual about even though he would much rather panic. He knew where panic could get him, looking at the sword Garrith possessed.


The garment he held was one for a man, he was in luck there. However, he was uncertain what size it was. The equivalent of sacks really, he started putting on the garment that he assumed were trousers. "Its a shame that none of my stuff seemed to have survived," Knox complained. He whined earnestly, there was several things of value. Plus his clothes. Putting his legs into each hole, he put the pants up. They hardly fit. "If I had rope it might be able to work."


Directing his attention to the other men now. "So Garrith, Vangoth, if those aren't your names? What do you bid by bringing me back to life?" Knox tried to put on his most formal of accent however it still came off as rather commoner. He was trying to figure what out what his tormentors intended by doing this to him. Perhaps then he could find a way to escape. Looking around his person, the only other garments he could find were some for women and possibly a child. He wasn't sure. Knox was certain it wouldn't fit him. "None of these will do," he said. "Though what kind of slack-jaws would revive someone only to not provide them equipment," Knox sighed.

 

[Inquisitor]

Garrith

The Blackguard Extraordinaire



​

"You would be wise to hold your tongue, Keentaker. We had no time to get you proper equipment. Perhaps there's at least something leftover in this filthy tomb of yours. Maybe your skills will allow you to improvise your basic tools from leftovers here, too." He turned back to the robber, sizing him up. Hopefully he would remember everything he needed to for the task at hand. Yes indeed, a test was required to guarantee his usefulness. If he proved to not have his skills in-tact, well... That was, again, something to consider when the time came.





"Get us out of here, Vangoth. We can worry more about what we will do next once we get out of here. But we need equipment." He rubbed his face with a gloved hand. The palm, by now, was merely worn leather; any other protective material on it was removed. The rest was weakly-linked plates, not terribly likely to deflect too heavy a blow. One shoulderguard was missing, and the lower portion of his chestplate had been cloven asunder. Yes, they definitely needed new equipment. And the robber, he desperately needed his tools. Garrith would make sure he got that.

 

[Miz]

Knox
The False Keentaker
​

Knox held the cloth that was draped from his waist. He was wearing a sack for pants. He listened to what the fighter said. They expected him to find his own tools and his own clothes? Ridiculous. However Knox acknowledged, with some of his memories coming back, that the Keentaker was the best of the best. Of course such would expected of him. Grunting from frustration, Knox started to inch by the fighter and look through the tomb. He didn't have much time he knew from how Garrith talked to the wizard. However, he hoped he could find something in the corners of the ransacked crypt.


Quite abysmal what happened to the place. Even the statuette Knox remembered the Keentaker having was taken. Rather poetic, Knox thought but didn't give himself much time to think about it. He stuck his fingers in some crannies and tried to luck out striking gold. Most places were empty that he checked, however something clicked in his head. "Before we go," Knox raised his voice to the Wizard still looking in the small room. "Where did you find my body?" Knox asked. Understanding that such idea might be suspicious he provided some explanation. "Looters seemed to ransack this place and I want to make sure they didn't take all of my goods."

 

[Inquisitor]

Garrith
The Blackguard Extraordinaire



​

"What remains we could find were laid across the tomb. Looks as though someone took your body from it, and left it atop the tomb. Why, I don't know, but I imagine they searched it for things, then left it where it was." He narrowed his brow, considering what he'd just said. It was foolish to imagine that nobody would take the body away. Bodies are always useful, even if it's only as shambling corpses. Why would nobody have come up with their idea before? For now, though, he decided to keep his mouth shut; even if this wasn't the Keentaker - something which was more and more likely, as he considered it - he was better than nothing, and the real Keentaker was long gone. Were he, by the offshoot possibility, just a common thief, it didn't mean anything. His skills could still be honed, and he could still be useful.


Yes, he chose to kept his mouth shut for now. Even if the inkling of possibility that edged into his mind was true, it wasn't worth worrying about. Best to assume the best, and shove any doubts to the back. That, and it was best to let the Necromancer's ego remain inflated. Why worry him with wounding his poor ego, and let him continue to think that he's infallible?

 

[Miz]

Knox
The False Keentaker
​

Garrith explained the position of Knox's body. He could tell that the warrior felt suspicious about how Knox's body was found. True it was strange for someone to be outside their own grave. However stranger things had occurred, mainly that Knox was back alive. So he hoped to be able to brush off any concerns. "Damn thieves," Knox said but he realized that the Keentaker himself was a thief, of sorts. "No honor amongst them, sadly." Laughing a bit he kept one hand at his waist to keep his pants held.


Knox headed to the main tomb of the crypt, where the Keentaker once lied before Knox and his group unearthed his remains. Ironic, again perhaps that he would be revived in the Keentaker's stead. Poetic, Knox remembered traveling bards talk about poetic justice for heroes in their story. Ridiculous really, but Knox felt like fate had somehow thrown him some of his karma back at him. You couldn't be lucky forever it seemed. Looking around the sarcophagus, he saw a glint of light from behind the large decorated stone box that was simply too heavy for simple thieves to move. "Aha," Knox said and reached down to grab two items.


One of which was a possession of his from his former life. It was a long cylinder tube, that was made out of a mystical material. It didn't quite look like glass but it wasn't metal or ceramic either. The object was a test for Knox, it was deep within an ancient catacomb or some other ruins belonging to an ancient civilization. There were monsters and other dangers but he was able to steal this object. It was proof he made it down there, enough proof to gain him entrance into treasure hunting guild he was a part of. Beyond sentimental value, Knox always felt it had some sort of use. Unfortunately, he never was sure what that use was.


The second item was a more recent addition, it belonged to the Keentaker and was just a simple golden ring. The ring had symbols inscribed onto it but Knox knew nothing about it. The ring was something he was examining when he was betrayed and was something he could hide from his comrades while he bled out. He intended to sell it to make a profit and get his revenge. But not all plans unfold as expected. Putting the ring on his right ring finger, he smiled. "Alright, I don't think there is much else in here. Fortunately there are a few items that are still left," he showed the findings to his new colleagues. If such people could be considered such things. Nevertheless he still looked around the ruins for possible other objects. You never know what one could find in a tomb.

 

[The Dark Wizard]

Vangoth

The Lord Necromancer​

Vangoth scowled at all the dillydallying. "Keentaker grab what ever it is you need and lets set off" he said his voice still sounding exhausted as he took a sip from the glorious cup. He offered a drink to Garrith and then said "When ever you are Keentaker come drink from this".

 

[Inquisitor]

Garrith

The Blackguard Extraordinaire



​

"You found some things? Good. Better than nothing... I'd rather you at least had some things than nothing at all." He examined the objects that were presented to him. A ring, and... A metallic tube? Strange indeed. Then again, apparently thieves found and kept strange things in their lives. They must have some sort of use. Hopefully not just trash, but that was up to the Keentaker to explain. "I hope those objects aren't useless, regardless. What are they used for?"





He turned to the Necromancer, a frown on his face. Massive and magical cups were strange things, but he knew his one had more uses than it looked to. He took it, and drank a small amount, before passing it back to Vangoth. "Let's get this over with, if everyone is ready."

 

[Miz]

Knox

The False Keentaker
​

Both the warrior and the wizard seemed unimpressed with Knox's behavior and the items he was able to collect from the tiny tomb. They were impatient and were interested only in moving again. "These items?" he said mockingly. "Well, the tube to men of less keen vision, is an ancient relic of a distant civilization. It allows for several abilities, if one knows how to use it," Knox smiled as he spoke. This was somewhat truthful. The item was an ancient relic of some death people or culture. Of who, legendary or mundane, Knox didn't know. It could have belonged to ancient lizard people for all he knew. If it did anything, was a further question. Yet he assumed that the man would be content enough with such a response he wouldn't bother asking more. Soldiers were like that. "As for the ring," Knox gestured to his fingers. He wasn't sure what the ring did. He just knew it was the keentaker's. It didn't seem to kill him on the spot, so that must have meant something. "I am not sure which ring this one is, I had a lot of rings when alive. So I assume I will find out."


The wizard was impatient. Indifferently he nodded to Knox and shook around a goblet to the two of them. Asking if he was ready to leave, "Quite in the rush, I've hardly been a live for ten minutes and you want me to already depart? Do the living have no understanding of patience in this time?" reluctantly he tucked his head downwards to the glass and took a small drink from the goblet gestured to him by the wizard. The liquid within tasted like air. He wasn't sure what he even did. All he knew was he wasn't dead again.

 

[Inquisitor]

Garrith

The Blackguard Extraordinaire
​

After the Keentaker took his sip from the cup, the group was teleported out. They found themselves lying in a forest clearing, the moon shining brightly overhead through the loose boughs. Garrith grunted, looking around. The trees hung low over the clearing, providing a sort of natural shade and cover. It was a safe enough place. Off to one side, through the treeline, the light of a town could barely be seen. On second thought, perhaps it's for the best that we didn't pop up inside the town. The clearing was the best place available, considering that they didn't really have the money to take an inn. For now, the clearing might have to do.


"Keentaker, we will make camp here. I fear we don't have the coin on hand to take an inn. You spent time in the woods, I assume; do you remember how to make shelter?" He looked around the clearing again, giving it more than a cursory glance. There were a couple of natural ditches in the ground that could be used for drainage for shelter, and even a rather large rock off to the side opposite the town. The rock had what looked like a chunk cut out of one side, as if to build a hearth. Nice enough place for a fire. Loose rocks and fresh vegetation completed the site, scattered around rather evenly. Plenty enough to make home for now, if it came to that.

 

[Miz]

Knox

The False Keentaker
​

Knox was astonished when the darkness of the tomb gave way to the night-time sky. He wasn't used to teleportation, only doing it once in his life. However he tried to stay composed, he was supposedly the legendary Keentaker right now. That kind of figure must be used to teleporting and wouldn't make a fuss over such matters. So Knox held his comments about his dizziness and disorientation. Instead he looked up towards the sky. The stars were out in number today, with only the ones closest the town's light disappearing. Yet the soldier figure named Garrith had little interest in matters of astronomy apparently.


The armored man was more concerned about shelter. An idea that made Knox give him a strange look. "Shelter?" he asked. "I mean sure, I have been in woods but don't we have other matters to think about." Knox gestured to his own set of clothes which mainly included an unsalvageable pair of pants and some shredded cloth over one shoulder for a shirt. "Now would be the time to get supplies," he said pointing to the town. Knox was hoping to get into town so that he could find clothing but also so that he could escape from the grasp of the knight and the deranged Wizard. Once he was away he would travel as far as he could from the two evil fiends that resurrected him.


However his escape plans made him consider where the Wizard was that resurrected him. He was no where to be seen. Even his translucent state was gone, to Knox it just seemed like it was only him and Garritn still alive. "What happened to our Wizard friend?" Knox said. "I don't see him anywhere."

 

[Inquisitor]

Garrith

The Blackguard Extraordinaire
​

The knight paused, removing his helmet. "Curse the fickle beast that condemned me. Supplies wouldn't be an issue if I still had my full power." For an ascended demon trapped in a mortal's body, he looked fairly... Average. No horns, no devil's red skin. The weathered face of a man who hadn't bathed in perhaps over a week, if his greasy hair was any indication, was all that lay beneath. He set the helm atop the hearth stone, sighing. "Alright, you're right. We should get supplies before we settle down. You'll have to do that; I'm still too obvious to go rushing into the town in this armor."


While he paused to think, Garrith found himself looking down at the gold ring wrapped around his black gauntlet. Damn bastard got the short end of the stick eh? Ah, before I forget... The cup! He made off across the clearing, spotting the glimmering cup in the distance. A quick grab and he was dumping it into the pack on his waist, a small treasure-trove of objects peeking out as he opened it. "Oh, the Wizard? Hah. His body was destroyed some time ago. He lives inside this dagger, unable to fully form. He'll come out after he recovers some. Using the cup probably took a lot of energy."

 

[Miz]

Knox

The False Keentaker
​

Knox watched the demon remove his helm to reveal a human face. Garrith had black hair. Possessing scruff around his neck, his hair greasy from sweat, the demon looked like a human. Knox was shocked. He didn't think Garrith was a human. By how he talked, how he looked, the man appeared to be some sort of demonic figure. It wasn't unthinkable to derive such conclusions. The man's entire body was covered in that horrendous black armor. Removing just a portion showcased the blackguard's humanity. If that's what it could still be called.


Garrith searched through the clearing, he explained that the wizard didn't have a body. "So he's a ghost or something?" Knox asked. The idea didn't necessarily scare him. After all he was something similar to a ghost. Garrith picked up the cup and seemed to brush it off before packing it away. "Wait, that tiny thing at your side? That's the dagger he lives in?" Knox said pointing to the needle thin dagger sheathed in a holster at the fighter's waist. It looked more like a metal wand or stick than a dagger. "Why is he trapped in there?"

 

[Inquisitor]

Garrith

The Blackguard Extraordinaire
​

He produced the metal stick from his belt, bouncing it idly in his palm. As he examined it, he thought over the events that led to the wizard being trapped. "Yes, this is what he now lives in." Looking back, he recognized that he was being played for a fool the whole time; if he had thought it through a little more, he might have chosen differently at the time. But such is reality, and the wizard was trapped. And he was cast out from his patron's plane in the worlds beyond this one. The form he was thrown into - though he was born to it - disgusted him now, too. Eating and drinking were tasks that reviled him, and the process of bathing was still something rather foreign again - much to the potential dismay of those around him. He needed to find a river, and soon.


"As far as I can make sense of it, he isn't really a ghost. He was trying to become a Lich. I killed him while he was in the middle of the ritual. Near as I can tell, his soul was cast into this object, because it was in his hands at the time. Not a ghost, per se, because he can still come out of this form if he gets enough power back. Still questionable how wise that is, but for now, he's my best shot at getting my power back. And you're his best shot at getting his. So, I have to rely on you, as much as I don't want to."


He frowned, furrowing his brow at the stick, before attaching it firmly to his belt once more. He pulled his sword from the scabbard at his hip. It appeared to have changed since it was last seen. Instead of the blood-red hue of the metal and its rather obscene size and archaic lettering, it now appeared to be something of a simple longsword, with a stripe of red material embedded into the fuller. Rather plain and simple compared to before. He took a stone out of his pack and poured some water from his skin onto it, and began rubbing the edge to sharpen it. "It's best if you go get supplies before it gets too dark. Can't have you stuck in there before they close the gates, or have us missing supplies because you went too late."

 

[Miz]

Knox listened to the warrior but he didn't understand much of magic. Wizards and the like, they always kept to themselves. They never shared anything with the likes of Knox or others in his group. Magic was power. It had the ability to make items and get its users riches. Thieves were purposely left out of those matters. Haste they used the magic for their own devices. They already had quite the trick of getting into places especially those barred from entering.


"Rely on me?" Knox said. He liked the idea of being somewhat in power over this warrior. Dressed in black mail, the man was an intimidating force. Garrith was probably able to scare even the fiercest knights on horseback. In reality, the man could kill him probably in one swing. That wasn't to say that Knox was weak. In fact Knox could tussle, he even bet he could kill the warrior by surprise. Yet on a straight battle, Know knew he would be cleaved. "I like the sound of that..." Knox was going to say more but the warrior took out his sword and began polishing it. An idle threat if he meant it to be one. Knox might be relied upon but Garrith definitely acted like he was in command. This wasn't some partnership.


Knox was instructed to go into the village to procure some supplies. Knox was unsure what the man was asking for, he acted like he could just wave his hand and be done with it. That Knox could just come back with all the things they would need to go wherever the warrior wanted him to go. Standing up he brought himself closer to the kneeling warrior. "Well power or not, you act like stealing is just something that happens. I can't just go about and 'steal'. We'd need more of a plan than that, also we would need to know what we want and if they even have it." Knox examined the warrior up and down. "You will have to come with me too, I am not use to getting things for people your size. Though that does mean your armor will have to be ditched here for a bit."


Knox took a few steps back to measure the landscape. "If you wanted we could dump it into a hole or something, if you are worried about it being stolen. I am more worried about it being found in general. That kind of armor spooks people." Knox looked back at the warrior who at this point was probably going to respond to his comments. Knox just hoped he wouldn't be sliced and diced. "Come on now, you must have clothes under that armor. It will only be a bit."

 

[Inquisitor]

Garrith

The Blackguard Extraordinaire



​

Garrith looked down at his broken armor, grimacing. He nodded, sheathing the sword. As much as he hated to admit it, the human was right. He looked himself once over. How could he expect to pass for anything other than a terrible monster in this town? He had to at least try to pretend he wasn't a demon. That, and while he hated to admit it, he had no idea what they really needed from the town. This wasn't his job; he always had people to sort out supplies for him. Food wasn't even a necessity most of the time. He had no idea what to get, nor how to get it. So in a way, he really was relying on Knox. Completely relying on him. And he didn't like that.


"Alright, you're right. I should leave the armor behind." He set to the tedious task of removing the armor, beginning by unclasping his pauldrons. He dropped the broken pieces of metal to the ground, moving on with the rest of the pieces of armor. Parts of his breastplate break off from the rest as he removed it; it's a wonder that it had survived this long after its magic was lost. Belt came off, too, which he placed gently aside. He discarded the mail from beneath the plate after separating it from the leather jerkin and pants beneath it. He strapped his belt back on, leaving the sword to hang freely fro the hip. "This will have to do for now." He pushed the metal into a pile and rummaged around, grabbing some brush. He dumped the brush onto it, attempting to cover it well enough to where it didn't look like something put there intentionally. "Now, lead the way. I trust that you can find what we need so long as I'm there."

 

[Miz]

Surprisingly the solider agreed to part with his armor. Knox didn't expect him to agree. He was simultaneously relieved and yet disappoitnted. The idea of Garrith following him in heavy plate mail was definitely a sight to behold. Still, Knox was wondering why he even bothered to give advice to this man. He intended to escape, not get a demon some supplies for his personal quest. However Knox looked at himself. He was just skin and bones, but he basically was a skeleton wearing a rag. How far did he figure he could run away from a Necromancer and a Demon general? They needed him and if he ran, they certainly wouldn't be again killing him or imprisoning him in some sort of magical trap. Knox didn't know that much about magic but he knew such measures were possible. Imprisonment wasn't the worse thing they could do either. A weakened Necromancer he might be, but he was able to do the impossible: bring Knox back to life. Likewise the Demon didn't need his powers to still slice him to bits. So how powerless must they actually be?


So while they might be reliant on him, Knox realized he was not in any real situation to bargain. Not yet, there would be a prime time to do that in the near future.


Once Garrith was done taking off his armor and stripping down to just his underclothes, he stated he was ready to go. "Are you sure?" Knox asked him honestly. "I mean this is a human town. I don't know what you demons have, but I am sure its different from where-ever you are from," Know said without knowing the man's backstory. "There's also guards and stuff. So we'd have to be careful. Our attire," Knox said gesturing at his own clothes and then Garrith's, "we basically look like we are destitute already. Well I guess we are pretty much destitute, now that I think about it. Regardless, what I mean to say is that they would already be suspicious of us."

 

[Inquisitor]

"Well, I don't entirely think we have an alternative, do we? If you have any better ideas, then please do tell me." He looked down at himself. The Keentaker did have a point: he looked like a poor man with a sword strapped to his hip. It seemed almost strange, to a degree. This sort of a lifestyle was not something he was used to at all, and he actually found himself wishing he had a better understanding of his old societies. Perhaps, if he knew things better, he would have a better handle on how to work in this environment.


Then again, he was never one to suffer utter failure at the collapse of a plan, so he couldn't really fault himself for not planning for this worst-case scenario.


"I'll trust you to sort out what we do and do not need while we're in the village, and to acquire it. I'm hopeful that you can still manage that." He looked over the man, frowning deeply. He hoped that the Keentaker could find himself some decent clothes, too. Seeing the man in virtual rags was almost a saddening sight. That, and he didn't feel the desire to continually worry about the man's trousers falling off; the male form was not something he appreciated seeing.