RPC has moved! These pages have been kept for historical purposes

Chlodomer · **09-01-2014, 06:18 PM**

The words of the Azure Falcon brought forth contempt to my mind. Hypocrisy, was the first word that grew in my mind as she scorned my very path. My own colors were disgraced. Despite my previous aiding...she rejected my views - no signs of gratitude. Why did I expect otherwise?

The finishing touch, a voyage to the goldsmith's guild to have this armor modified once more. It held the color partially, but my true colors had to be revealed. My family's colors, were worn with honor, but I would rather not bring their coat of arms into further disgrace. My own heart cries out and tells me that I will be obliged to carry responsibility to the colors I wear.

Gold, is the color that I desired. Its meaning; wisdom, compassion, optimism, triumph...

Perhaps it was my own pride willing to express itself, but tis a color that I relate myself mostly. Once altered, I shall wear these new colors and have them blessed in the Twelve's sanctum.

Yet, a question once rose. Why don the armor of the Sultansworn? Is that not behind me now? I am but a knight-errant, truly, but I cannot forsake what I once was. Despite what Anelia said the eve before, I was a Sultansworn and I shall not so easily relinquish this fact.

I shall don this armor with grace, and pride.

Chlodomer · **09-03-2014, 08:50 PM**

The tip of my longsword pierced into the flesh of the malicious elezen, and much to my surprise, the blood did not lack life. No, the blood was as carmine as any man or woman. The grim elezen was in pain, and much to my surprise, evacuated within the dark flames that were devastating the desolate manor.

To vanquish an undead is no easy feat by nature, but it is not impossible or entirely complicated to achieve. However, it is easy to combat against the enemy we know, yet we are always struck with a rude awakening when the unknown emerges.

The undead cult of Nald'thal, their assassins, rumored to be near unstoppable, retreated the evening when we tracked down the kidnapped Liadan Summerfield into an abandoned manor. Charging towards their own master, while his knife pressed against Liadan's throat. Surprised, my blade sinked straight into his shoulder, red blood staining steel. It was not black like the rest, this one was alive.

In pain he ran into the dark flames he used to consume the manor and vanished with the rest.

The miqo'tes who were with me had nearly perished during the battle and if I had not struck as timely as I've had, I wouldn't believe either of us to still be alive this day.

A root to these creatures now has been revealed, yet a repellant has to be known of.

I pray to the Twelve to find success in these discoveries.

Pride Forged in Gold [Closed]

RPC has moved! These pages have been kept for historical purposes