Necromancer's Quest

[Miz]

OOC

Scene Transition

Entering Farnfoss


Knox just sighed when Garrith made him in charge of materials. He didn't know the first thing that a demon warrior would want equipment wise. Armor certainly, but where would they get armor for his size? They could try to find something leather or chain mail but one didn't just happen-upon such materials. Which only frustrated Knox further as they traveled through the woods towards the town's gates. "Well you need new armor definitely," he said. "I need new clothes in general. A weapon or two would also be good," Knox said taking account what was needed in town.


"The problem is," Knox said gesturing to Garrith. "We might just find clothing that fits us and if the town is well-stocked we might find one or two cheap weapons. However you just don't happen upon armor. Armor is something that people make to fit. Which means," Knox had to ponder and think about his options. "You would either have to go without or we have to make some coin and purchase it through some market."


Walking down the forest path, they traveled towards the sunset. They had buried Garrith's armor in a nice enough pit and Knox assumed they would probably go back and get it. He didn't particularly care that much about it, but he figured Garrith, demon or not, was like any other fighter and hated given up his armor. Yet Knox was curious. Could they just leave a set of armor like that in the ground? He figured it was magical speaking Garrith owned it when he was powerful. Knox didn't know anything about magical items beyond legends but the one's he remembered hearing about didn't sound like the things you could just leave behind without them causing some sort of mischief.


Regardless it was out of his hands now. What Garrith didn't with his armor was his thing. Knox just wanted to find clothes at this point. Sighing a bit when he finished taking account of what they might need, including food, he just complained. "Why didn't you carry silver or something on you. Did your lord not believe in coin?"

 

[Inquisitor]

"New armor, yes. My old set was more or less destroyed; most of its magic seeped out over time. I'm of two minds, I think. I could have the armor repaired, or I could discard it and find a new set. Repairing it might be easier, but at the same time..." He paused, grunting. "That set was from the vermin I dared call master. I'd sooner spit on his grave than wear something that marks me as his servant. Plus, the materials wouldn't be easy to find. We're not likely to find anything to repair it with in this town, unless there's a rather powerful wizard - present company excluded." He looked up at the town before him, and then around at the surrounding lands. No sign of a wizard's tower in or out of the town, except for an odd little shack about a mile to the west of town, in the middle of a field. Misplaced seemed like a proper descriptor to Garrith. Worth checking out, at the very least; some wizards are known to be eccentric in that way.


If anything, he knew Knox had a point. He didn't know anyone in this town, and he didn't know how well-supplied it was, nor how easy it could be to acquire a set of armor in it. But he certainly knew someone who did. "This was your town, Keentaker, so I imagine that at least one person should know you well enough to want to help us. Surely you were well-liked in your own home town." He at least hoped that someone might be willing to help the town hero. If not, this quest might be over before it even began. With no food - curse his mortal body - let alone shelter, Garrith knew that the two would waste away in the world beyond this town's walls, if the good graces of the people failed to fall upon them. Disgust him as it may, he had to turn to the people of this town for help.


"As for money, my kind have little use for your human coin. However, I had once in my possession a form of currency that we used. That would have worked fine, as your people's wizards seem to relish it for its magical uses. The only problem there is that it was stolen from me after I lost my powers, by two of my underlings. Those two had best hope I never find them."

 

[Miz]

The former demon had a way with words. He spoke elegantly. The words and his pronunciation, he sounded like a noble. By his accent, he sounded foreign. However Knox didn't try to bring it up. It was probably the same case for him. Knox didn't speak like the wizard inside the dagger and he was certain he wouldn't talk like the townfolks in the upcoming town.


The upcoming town, it was last named Farnfoss when he passed through looking for the Keentaker's tomb. Though, that could have been lifetimes ago. The town appeared larger than he remembered. However that would make sense. Things usually got bigger as time passed. Pondering Farnfoss, Knox remembered some facts about the Keentaker he had learned with his crew. The Keentaker was buried here when he croaked prematurely. He was assassinated or something, it depends on the legend. Farnfoss wasn't his home town though. That was a mystery. This was just a place that revered his presence. "Yea, hopefully a man still lives," Knox says casually with his commoner accent. "Yet, I was not from this place. At least I don't remember me being from this place. I just died here."


Knox laughed a bit as the warrior complained of his problems with money. "Allies can be trouble. I would know, that's how I got..." Knox said stopping himself. He remembered he was the Keentaker, not Knox. So he just made a gesture to the man. "Well, you probably know the rest."


The two of them started making their way into town. The city gates were only a few yards away. Approaching near sunset, the guards were switching out posts but the one managing this eastern gate saw Garrith and Knox coming. "Looks like we've been spotted," he said quietly as the guard fixed his posture as they neared.

 

[Inquisitor]

Well, you know the rest.


Admittedly, what Garrith knew least was the legends behind this Keentaker, specifically regarding his death. He only knew what the Necromancer had told him: namely, that he was supposedly powerful enough to steal whatever needed stealing from whoever it needed to be stolen from. Whether or not this man was from before or after his own time was a mortal was irrelevant; the stories never reached him as a mortal, nor did they reach him as an immortal. Sad news, perhaps, as he was at least mildly interested in the tales of what this man did - as well as whether or not any of them were true. Any test of his power via such legends would be invaluable. But now wasn't the time or place.


Instead, he set his jaw, looking forward toward the town. "Let's hope that at least someone here is willing to support us."


As the two approached, the guard set himself in order. "Hold, newcomers. What brings you to Farnfoss?"

 

[Miz]

Knox stopped in his tracks as the Farnfoss guard approached them. Yes, the guard - the singular guard - was wanting to know about their presence and arrival to the town. Knox looked him up and down before coming to some conclusions. The guardsman wasn't dressed in anything special: his armor was a mixture of leather and chain mail, he wore a bowl helmet on his head and he had some cloth vestments with the city's seal. Certainly not the finest attire but his scabbard at his side drew Knox's attention. The guards were armed pretty well, the sword's scabbard looked well made. He lacked a shield though. Unusual for a guard.


Knox was certain he could disarm this man if he really tried but he remembered his situation. He was wearing rags for pants and nothing else. Garrith appearance was also perplexing. His sword made him look like a noble or some sort of higher-class person but his near-nakedness also conveyed some poverty. Knox tried to think about it: why would someone look like this, outside of their current situation?


"Safety," Knox answered bluntly with his commoner accent. It was the first thing that came to his mind, but he knew he was going to get a perplexing look from the guards. "My maister was robbed. Bandits," he said trying to think of a story and gesturing to Garrith who had a noble stature about him. Nobility would help them, he figured he might as well invoke it. After all he could just be dismissed for being ill or something. Plus who else would walk around in rags other than a servant or a slave. "We were surrounded..."


"Master?" the guardsman asked Knox before turning to Garrith. "Are you a lord or vassal, sire?" the guard asked with some more prestige.

 

[Inquisitor]

No point, Garrith supposed, in doing anything but following Knox's plan. He picked it up in stride, straightening his posture. "Vassal, soldier. Sir Faeturus, from the Duchy of Aelereth, far to the east of these lands. We require enough time in town to settle affairs and make the necessary arrangements."


It had been a while since he'd acted in such a capacity toward another human, but Garrith did his best given the circumstances. His only hope was that nobody would question this; they desperately needed the supplies this town could offer to live. The only problem he saw was that, should the two overstay their welcome, the town might begin to get suspicious. Instead, this needed to be a quick endeavor. In and out as fast as possible without raising too much suspicion, either by leaving too quickly, or not quickly enough. Best for now, though, to play it by ear and hope it worked.

 

[Miz]

Garrith spat out names to the guard. Well, Knox thought they were names, they sounded like them. Regardless, Knox knew that Garrith was more or less speaking gibberish to the other man. The guard was obviously perplexed by his expression but he didn't laugh or give any normal reaction that suggested he was suspicious. More, the man was curious about how to handle this new set of names of places and people he probably never heard about in his basic schooling.


In all likelihood, the Guard wasn't about the challenge a man like Garrith. He had a refine stature about him: his posture was proper, his diction selective. Even his accent had the right qualities to it. To anyone, even Knox, he would suggest a nobleman or man of higher birth. Plus there was consequences for rejecting a noble, especially if the stories be true.


Nevertheless their appearance didn't match their identities entirely. What kind of knight and retainer would show up to a city gate dressed like them?


"The Duchy of Aelereth?" the guardsman repeated. "You sure must be foreigners. I have never heard of such a place. Is it beyond Everton?" the man said out of curiosity. His remark though showed how common of knowledge the man was, a simple man who probably didn't leave his town or county often. Everton wasn't that far away, only a week of travel, maybe even less.


"Nay, farther," Knox said speaking up. However the guardsman was more transfixed on the knight standing in front of him.


"So is it true what your servant says: there were bandits, sire?" he asked again. This time he was inquiring about their story. Except he didn't address the question to Knox at all. He aimed it purely at Garrith.

 

[Inquisitor]

"Far beyond that near town, of course. Perhaps six weeks' travel during the dry season; longer if it rains." Keeping the man busy with pointless details could always help their situation, he supposed. At the very least, it would keep him from potentially focusing on the more shaky details of the ruse. Garrith had to suppress a laugh at the wide-eyed look on the guard's face when he heard the time to travel to the "Duchy."


"As for my servant's words, yes. We were attacked by men on horseback. By their skin and style of dress, I'd suspect they are Irathian. Filthy barbarian scum." This likely wouldn't sound too unusual to the guard; Irathia was well-known as a rather chaotic place. After the death of their last king, the kingdom essentially fell into ruin; with no heir to the throne and nothing but pretender claimants with no real backing now warring over the lands, most of the people were left without anyone to protect them. Some of the less-desirable members of society chose to take advantage of the power-vacuum and began looting. Without a doubt, it would be spilling into Everton's lands soon enough, if it hadn't already; it wasn't a terribly huge lie, but more of a warning.

 

[Miz]

Knox watched as Garrith managed to pull out facts about politics and other things that almost sounded legitimate to his untrained ears. Perhaps they were actually true, but Knox doubted it. How could a demon know anything about human affairs? Still, it was an amusing sight to see the guardsman hear about matters that were far beyond his comprehension. Nodding along at first, he quickly remarked. "Irathians!" he said. "They attacked you? I am surprised you live, they are known for being savages."


"Yes, my sire was lucky to be spared after he dueled with the horsemen. In return for killing their leader, they spared our lives for only our things," Knox said trying to make the story sound more believable. "We have wandered for several days now through the woods," Knox gestured at himself who looked unkempt, ill and undernourished. He looked like a dead man that suffered from the actions in his story, but that was more fact than fiction. It was easy to appear dying when you were already once dead. The act didn't take much more than practice, a few hundred years in dirt would do it.


The guard inspected Knox first, giving him a good look up and down. Knox was shorter than the armored man who was quick to manhandle him slightly before looking with some approval. He didn't touch Garrith, the supposed noblemen. "Considering your situation, I see no reason to not let you in before sundown," the man placed his hands on the sword. "I assume you have some coin or place to stay while you are here?"


"

 

[Inquisitor]

"I assure you that we would already be returning home had we any coin to spend. No, the savage scum took everything, sans my weapon. Their honor code seems to get in the way of that. Men dying with their sword in their hand and all that." Garrith cleared his throat, looking down at the guard over the bridge of his nose. "I am sure that you understand."


"Yes, sire, I understand. Perhaps you should go to the shrine of Farnis in the center of town. You can hardly miss it. The priest there should be able to help you." The guard shook ever so faintly, as the large man stared down at him. Imposing, really; even without armor, Garrith was frightening to look at. Were he a lesser man, he might actually be frightened.


At this point, with a wave of his hand, the gate opened, and the two were allowed through. As they passed into the town, Garrith's typical grimace became somewhat perceptibly deeper. "Fantastic."

 

[Miz]

The guardsman let Knox and Garrith pass without further question. Gesturing to guards above the city's gate, they raised the portcullis that defended the city's entrance. Knox didn't make eye-contact with the other guardsmen as they passed. He could see their crossbows and other weapons at their sides.

Spoiler

I imagined that the city's gates were bascially portcullis like they do in France?

"Its unusual isn't it: for city gates to be lowered so early?" Knox said to his companion. As the two of them walked away from the gate, Knox tried to act casually. "Not to mention that they bought the story of the raiders. This place isn't the safest." Knox tried to smile remembering his role as the Keentaker. "I don't particularly find this place entirely fitting to keep my grave. It isn't much of a challenge to break into, my only hope is that it isn't too easy to take from." Knox spoke particularly quiet as they walked down an alleyway away from others on the street. It was getting towards night, so not many people were about but they still wanted to be careful.


That was a lie, Knox wanted an easy steal. Something that could make them money quickly. There were multiple routes to achieve their mission through theft. Knox could steal things directly, like clothing and supplies, but there is a risk of finding the right things to wear and not to mention: what if someone notices you wearing their shirt? Knox could also try to steal something for money, but he would need to find the black-market for that and to find something worthwhile to sell. It was a lot to take in, "So are we going to head to that shrine? Maybe they can give us supplies. Taking false charity, the same as stealing really. Just easier..."

 

[Inquisitor]

"I thought you wanted a challenge, Keentaker." As the two walked, he thought about the shrine. Farniss was a local hero to the people, worshiped as a divine spirit. Legend had it that he fought alongside the Divines and slew a thousand demons in a single day with his own blade. No one knew what happened to the blade when he died; Garrith had his own opinions about whether or not the legends were even true at all. As old as he was, the stories came from even before his time as a mortal. Hard to tell anymore what's real and not from that time, ages ago.


Regardless, he knew he could never set foot in that shrine. Garrith knew the stories of what happened when a demon set foot in a shrine to the Divines. He had no intentions of dying this day. "It is not wise for me to enter the shrine of a demon-killer. If you wish to enter, by all means; I will not be following you in, however."





The alley opened up into a square, bounded on two sides by a massive keep to the left, and a white-walled, gilded hall to the right. In the middle were various closed stalls and such, bounded by shops in the front and rear of the square. A typical market, closed for the evening. Shining Paladins certainly had a sense of style, though: gaudy and bright. These townsfolk certainly loved their hero enough to invest most of their wealth into building up his shrine. Perhaps they hoped the legends were true, and that he would protect them in their time of need. Silly, really, because if he was with the Divines, he'd already let a demon and a corpse walk into the city.


The keep's doors were shut tightly, wrought-iron gates sealed for the night. However, the ornately-carved oak doors of the shrine were partly open still. On the doors were carved scenes of battle from eras long ago. Most prominently featured was the fabled slaying of a thousand demons at the top of the doorway, followed by Farniss' death and supposed ascension at the very pinnacle. "There's the temple; I can feel it from here. I suspect it should be blatantly obvious, though."

 

[Miz]

"A challenge?" Knox replied to his companion as they walked further through the alleyway. It was not a digusting passageway but one that was only cleaned by rainfall and collected the various dirt of the street. "I am all for a challenge when there is no other way," Knox admitted even if he was supposed to be the Keentaker. "But why make our lives hard when an easier route exists. Come now," Knox said to entice Garrith to the easier path. "You can't think that all my tasks were accomplished by taking the most difficult road? Nay. After all, there is no cheating when it comes to breaking into things." The statement that Knox found personal truth. A thief shouldn't play by the rules of his victims. He must think outside the box. The guards expected him to steal if he was a thief. However if he got what he needed without stealing, at least in the sense that the guards expected him to steal, who cared how he obtained such materials? The easiest road would always prevail.


Garrith though explained to him the challenges of the other scenario. The shrine was a holy place and they, especially Garrith, were far from the holiest of people. Knox would have shrugged at this remark, he didn't have many cares for the Divines outside those he personally worshipped or those he considered when asked or prompted by others. However when Garrith brought up the fact Farnis was supposedly a demon-slayer: he knew that was a problem.


For something being related to the Divines didn't mean anything in particular, it just meant that the figure or force had some sort of outside control. Not all Divines hated Demons or even evil things like the Necromancer, some even endorsed their actions. There was a Divine for all kinds, but if the Divine was against Demons, then entering his personal shrine was probably non-starter.


Knox however was not a demon. So in theory, he would have nothing to fear from such a divine. Even small amounts of charity would ease him at his mission, so even with this knowledge he did not stop his plan of robbing the Shrine in plain sight. When Garrith pointed to the temple, saying he could feel its presence, Knox began to walk towards it. "You can stay here if you like, but I am still going to try and go in. The Divine might hate demons and thus you are obviously unfit to enter. However I am neither a demon or a soul consumed by hellfire. So, I should be fine and will fetch some supplies. Surely, they wouldn't turn me down," Knox gestured towards his appearance, "especially considering how I look."

 

[Inquisitor]

Garrith shrugged as he watched the man walk off toward the temple. "Feel free, Keentaker. Retrieve what you can. I, on the other hand, will go find a comfortable seat in a tavern and let you do all the work."


And so he did.


The sun had just set below the horizon, but most of the taverns in town were just starting to get their rush. He found one that wasn't too busy - The Winged Mermaid, the sign read - and took a seat at an outside table, waiting for the man to return.


For Knox, the shrine looked even more ornate the closer he got to it. The facade was speckled with gold flakes and dust, seemingly inside the smooth stone itself, giving it a dim glow even with the sun having dropped below the horizon mere moments ago. Truly a sight to behold, and likely worth a pretty penny, were one to salvage all the gold from its bricks. A fool's errand, but a pretty penny regardless. As he approached, a man walked out the door to meet him, wearing white robes with gold trim.


"Welcome, friend, please enter. How may I be of assistance? Pardon me, but you look as though you could use help."

 

[Miz]

Garrith just shrugged at Knox proposal. He encouraged the rogue to do as he pleased and headed to a tavern. "So even the forces of evil must take a drink," Knox muttered as he looked as his companion walk away. Though the demon's actions did strike Knox as odd. He just left the thief to his own person. The warrior didn't lead him to the shrine, supervise him from a distance or threaten him if he didn't return. Instead, Garrith just departed.


The behavior was certainly abnormal. Yet it was possible that the more nobler of the two companions honestly thought Knox his servant. Perhaps he didn't have much experiences with prisoners. Knox didn't mind either thought. It would just make his life easier. If he got enough supplies from the shrine he could just leave the city. Enjoy the new life he found himself reborn into by magic. If that didn't work, he could just hide out in the shrine, for if Garrith's words were true, Knox was untouchable within the holy sanctuary. Knox chuckled to himself, the demon came off as so smart and in control, what a fool he actually was, that's all Knox could think.


Approaching the shimmering shrine that appeared more like a palace than a temple, Knox was awestruck by the place's whole design. He didn't remember the place being so mystical when he last was alive. It was a building made of stone. Though things change over centuries, Farnfoss may have reached some golden age of some kind. It would explain the new gates and the guardsmen from before. The town had things to hide, treasures to protect, from outsiders like him.


Knox was quickly greeted by a religious priest or monk of some sort as he got closer to the building's perimeter. The man who possessed a kind voice and spoke of aid was dressed in a white robe decorated in green vines around his right shoulder. Around his neck a small silver symbol, circular in shape, that was the pendent of Farnis. "Aye," Knox replied not doubting his appearance did his begging for him. "I need help, brother."


Knox turned his face down to the ground, a better position to grovel. "Oh please, I was robbed by bandits on my way to this town. They took all my things and I barely escaped with my life. My traveling companions were not so lucky, I don't know how I will return home." Knox was reusing the same tale told to the guard, except this time he lacked his noble. "The guards told me to come here, in the hope of a new beginning somewhere." This wasn't Knox's first time beginning to a monk or cleric. He had done it at first as a child out of necessity but as he grew older he began to employ his experience with begging gullible holy people to help him in other ways beyond just food and shelter. Though it wasn't all a lie, Knox thought to himself, he was robbed by bandits (that were probably once his friends), he has no way of going home (as home is probably centuries gone) and he needed a new beginning (for a magical spell brought him to life. So in reality, he might have been at the right place to ask for help.

 

[Inquisitor]

The man looked at Knox, shocked. "My word boy, come in, come in. Let's get you some clothing. I'm sure there's something spare." He waved you inside, a kind smile on his face. As he led Knox into the building, the strange juxtaposition between the ornate exterior and the sedate, by comparison, interior became apparent. Inside, there were a series of pews facing an altar with a pedestal in front, and a slightly larger-than-man statue behind it. Probably an icon of Farnis himself. On the pedestal was a plain stone bowl, empty right now.


The inside of the building, aside from the centerpiece at the front, was fairly plain. Heavy wooden doors behind the altar concealed what was likely an inner sanctum of sorts. Attached to the support pillars were fairly archaic sconces, probably still there from when the building was first put up. A couple of other doors led to hidden rooms. Surprisingly for a church, there was a complete lack of books visible in the main room. Unusual, but not to be unexpected given that Farnis was a warrior-deity. The faint sound of clanging metal came in from one of the side rooms.


The priest asked Knox to find a seat and wait for a few minutes. Eventually, he returned with a simple robe - not nearly as ornate as his own - a pair of breeches, and a plate with bread and chunks of boiled potato on it. "I found some food for you, too, while I was looking." He offered it up, waiting to see how Knox reacted.

 

[Miz]

Knox wasn't new to the sport of conning charities. They were the easiest people to trick, so welcoming, so gullible. It was a shame really, because Knox didn't particularly want to steal from the needy. He did realize that there were people in the town Farnfoss who were lame, simple or simple that might require the aid he was receiving. But, at the same time: he was needy. What made the poor in Farnfoss any different than him?


The new building was far more austere than Knox remembered the shrine of Farnis being. At the same time though he didn't particularly care about the town's architecture the first time he came through when he was alive. Knox couldn't even remember what the city looked like before in any great details.


When the man bought his excuses, Knox grinned towards the priest. He would play the role of the beggar and follow the man inside. Except something felt off the moment he stepped inside the shrine of Farnis. By the time he could see the pews of the larger altar room, the strange sensation intensified. It now manifested as a jolts of pain throughout his body, but focused especially on his joints. It caused him to slow-down to a limp.


The churchwarden left him to find materials without evening looking back on him. However there was another insider who was quick to brief him. The much younger priest had a ceremonial sword at his waist. "Are you injured?" the priest asked him from across the way.


"No, not terribly," he said as his legs started to hurt more. Hiding the pain wasn't much of an option. Knox tried to grin but his face must have showed some other expression for the man broke away from what he was doing and approached Knox quickly. "No, no I am fine," he said calmly but his voice quivered with pain.


"Relax," the priest said to him. The man put his arm around Knox and the thief could do little to resist him. "May the Warrior bring Rest," the devout said to Knox. As soon as the holy-man did this, Knox felt his strength start to leave him. His body going further limp, the pain growing in strength. "Come on, let me sit you on a pew next to the altar. I know my Brothers will return with some donations for you."


The man's exceptional kindness in any other circumstance would have earned Knox's gratitude but Knox knew that going further inside was the last thing he wanted to do. "The altar is known to heal evil magic and ward off evil spirits, its one of Farnis's specialties," the warrior-priest said as he dragged Knox's limping body . "Who knows, maybe it will cure whatever ails you. If not, we can get a healer from one of the apothecaries."


Knox was panting now. It was becoming harder to breathe, the air felt thicker somehow. The man would have been easily able to pick up Knox without these flashes of pain. The thief was basically a skeleton now, light as a bird. But even the priest surprised by how easily he could pick up Knox and manhandle him into a pew even as he tried to dismiss the holy man's service.


He sat only two rows back from the altar now. Knox was casually laid there by the priest but was made to sit-up right. Knox knew deep down that he didn't want to look at the altar, so instead he looked at his hands. He tried to seem like he was praying, clasping his hands together but he knew that this must seem suspicious in some manner if he didn't at least look at the damned ritual object. So he peeked, just to appease the priest so that he might leave him to do other tasks, however that was Knox's mistake. The very sight of the carved stone caused him to have a migraine and made him instinctively clasp his bony fingers to his face.


The churchwarden had returned by this point, offering his donations and food to Knox. "I found some food for you, too, while I was looking."


Knox had trouble looking up though by this point. He nodded and whispered a small word of thanks. However the other warrior-priest now was inspecting Knox's behavior.