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[NPC] The Crown Steps In

#1
Camelot's morning sun glimmered off the dew coated grass while long since awakened birds sing praise to the new day in the quiet fresh air, painting with the colors of sound for a picture-perfect scenery of the local fauna. Usually undisturbed, this particular part of the verse was currently being observed by a particularly powerful looking figure. A set of full plate armor subtly moved with each step of his Camelot-bred stead, adding a metallic beat to the natural song of the world. It was the same steady tempo as the beast below him walked at an even pace, much like the twenty or so men that marched with him. The fluttering of flags and his forest-green cloak can be heard as the wind picked up, like soft tapping of thumps as the fabric's ends playfully snap at the breeze.

The knight marveled at his land's beauty from behind the elaborate and all-encompassing helm while a storm of information continued to swirl in his mind.

Sir Dermot had been given this assignment through a series of letters passed between him and an official at King Aragorn's feet, all the information they had decorated every inch of the parchments in black inks; Every detail increasingly turning his stomach asunder at the time they arrived. By the candle's light of his desk, he poured over these lines in disbelief. It told a story of a damnable creature straight from the pages of fairytales. As if Diablo himself ripped open a rift to let this vile being from his depth's rape and pillage King Aragorn's blessed land...

The setting? A small abandoned forte that the king didn't feel the need to reinstate a command in and the poor townspeople that eventually find themselves in the warpath of this demon that may have been birthed from the dreaded Underverse and Diablo's demented dreams that had taken interest in it. Previously abandoned, apparently, the town took it back to represent its command and power. This was not unheard nor commonly seen as unlawful, but what befell on these people was absolutely twisted.

Indeed, this town apparently was doomed far before the cursed creature stepped foot between its walls, but these were all unknowns before their mission was successfully carried out. Apparently, a man named Gillespie, in the garb of a kindly old wizard, offered his services to the governing powers of this town and fort. He was anything but helpful according to all the evidence dug up by Sir Dermot's men.

As if Gillespie wanted his schemes found, he kept a detailed diary of his actions taken down purposely as a catalog to the plague of chaos he brought forth with him...

-
Day 11
'I've befriended the fool that calls himself a leader to these people. Either he has no tolerance for magic spells or he is the simplest of simpltons because a cheaply casted suggestion is all it took to convince him to call himself the king. The faces of his subjects were a mixture of knowing this was going against Aragorn and acceptance. These secondaries soak up my influential magic like the roots of newly planted saplings.'

Day 32
'When you place power upon a pedastool, it is a matter of time before greed and jealousy settle in. I was not surprised in the least when the jester came to my chamber seeking out the council. He harbors hate that only children from my world have ever displayed. He is on the edge of the abyss, the brink of sanity...

He only needs a simple push. However, I feel that in order to get maximum results, I should introduce another factor into this soup.

There is that group of vampires. Perhaps its time to summon something to lure that child in.'


Day 39
'It is hard not to call the jester a fool in an unironic way, but he is the perfect combination of stupid and ambitious. As soon as the vampiric child was thrown into the prison, his paranoia increased a hundredfold. He is convinced the king will replace him with the child as entertainment. He has shown up to my chambers four times, twice in one day. For three days I have left a book out, open to a simple brainwashing spell, and the bookmark placed in a page that promises power is as easy as eating... When he visited today he easily took the bait for what it was and while I left for whatever reason I could think to, he snatched up the book and ran. I can't wait.'

Day 43
'The jester did it. I can't believe it, but the idiot actually pulled it off. Today I discovered some rats that have been affected by both spells, apparently his test subjects. I have made the effort to ward myself against the spells, but I am immensely amused by the idea that his doofus has accomplished such a feat. Too bad he's but a tool in this plot.'

Day 44
'To my surprise, the Jester sprang his trap as soon as possible. It's fine because the entire staff is now enchanted by him. And of course, the first thing he demands of the mob is the king's head. Marvelous, truly marvelous.'

Day 58
'This will be my last entry in this booklet. I suspect that if you are reading this you are either that idiot Tyson or the King's guard.

To whomever, it concerns,

Don't bother looking for me. I've given the people of this land a false name and they don't know my true face. Good luck though, you'll find everything you need among these pages to understand that I may have been the catalyst to this master plan, but I could not have asked for a better tick to my plague than Tyson. He performed perfectly in ways I didn't expect.

I've been living in comfort for the past couple of weeks while the jester has ballooned into a true representation of gluttony. Like his hunger for power, the spell makes it impossible for him to ever be satisfied. The rest of the palace have been feeding on prisoners. When they realize what they have done I imagine the weakest of souls will attempt to suppress the fact that they're guilty of cannibalism, but it will forever be a fact.

When the Jester was at the peak of stuper, Tyson barged in, killed several guards just inside the view of my window in the most primitive way I can imagine a demon doing, and then after freeing the child came straight up to my chambers. I watched from the shadows as he stole away my summoned dagger. It is vampiric, in the way that when one is stabbed with it, their life is drained from them and it gives the wielder strength. I don't know what he plans to do with it, but he shouldn't use it on any holy creatures.

Good Bye!'


-

From there Sir Dermot collaborated the stories of what few witnesses available. Some of the townsfolk knew Gillespie by name, giving them a description of an older man, skeleton-thin, with white hair and beard. When asked about the specifics like eye color, the shape of his face, and what length of beard, no one could give them a consistent story. This left the knight to assume the spell he cast over himself hid the finer details on purpose. While this may have frustrated many men before him or after him, Dermot decided this was fine. They would eventually run into this spellcasting prime, and when they do it will be glorious to bring him to justice.

As of now, they had to address a dozen other issues.

For starters, Tyson Renegade. Dermot acknowledged the actions this demon were coincidentally good, however, they could not ignore the evils in his actions. At the moment, the bounty was still ironclad. The guard named Ryan would have been the next person to talk to, however... No good deed goes unpunished. Since the jesters rein as briefly explained by the journal, a few other rakish individuals have apparently moved in and gotten comfortable. One of them is the self-proclaimed 'Lord' Pike.

-

Quinn Pike was apparently the truest name of a rogue bandit lord. He was born and raised in this part of the verse. Quinn's mother was abusive, his father didn't exist in his life, and he grew up in the urban shacks of a much bigger town far south to this area. As a man with no future, of course, he wanted this fort and all the riches it promised. While he didn't carry a detailed journal like the kindly old wizard Gillespie, he made the mistake of giving second in command to another criminal.

When questioned, Pike's buddy spilled everything. The two of them were captured by the guards for theft when they tried to take a big bite out of the small settlement. Quinn and he had been starved for a good week before the takeover, and so were left in a haze while the rest of the criminals fled as fast as they could. At some point in the quiet and confused, they snuck into the banquet hall in hopes to find food after nearly a month of just gruel and filthy water. What they found that night was endless nightmares of body parts, stretched skin hanging from the chandelier like a badly made pillow fort, and opportunity.

After vomiting up the very last bit of their lunch, the two heard someone coming. Tyson, the monster that had released them, had just come from the tower. He had been carrying an impressive and wicked dagger. Where there was one treasure, there was more. Or at least that's how they thought back then. Good thing too, or in their point of view, because when they arrived the only thing standing in their way was an old man.

Inside they found food, clothes, and a number of things that looked especially valuable. Quinn Pike while playing with the gems of a small fortune left behind by the wizard, he picked up an amulet of specific interest. Inside the chest was a journal, pushed to the side. They weren't big readers, but they could manage. Thankfully the book had pictures.

Coincidentally, the first half of Gillespie's journal answered all the questions Pike could ever have about the pendant. Using it, he convinced the guards he was the next heir of this fort and with his new power began his wealthy new life. Up until the day Tyson came back. In order to keep his stolen fortune and lazy life as the Lord, he had to juggle lies. According to his buddy, he was struggling to keep them straight when the 'freaky bounty hunter' came looking for answers...

-

Where did that leave Sir Dermot and his men? On the hot trail of the bounty and his hunter.

Since they were a few days behind, his legit concern was about how the hunter may get away before all of his questions would be answered. That is what spurred this man forward through the night. He sought the truth, justice, and answers to his inquiries. And worse, they were just working on old rumors of where they two had gone. Even the last town they were seen battling in were lost to where they'd gone. Specifically, because the fight started in the center of town, and lead eventually over a waterfall. They haven't found such a thing, but the maps showed a place just around the bend.

"Sir!" his scout cried out to him.

Dermot's hand reached over his shoulder for his broadsword out of reaction, as he looked ahead of them. The scout, a wiry looking guy, was pointing with an affirmative extended hand and finger towards the path laid before them. It was hard to see his expressions behind the cold unmoving mask that was his helmet, but underneath he felt his face stretch in disbelief. To their amazement, a strange figure in the blood red garb described to them by other factions along the way walked casually towards them.

The man on the horse gave his beast a solid kick in the sides to make it trot over. Leaving his pack of peacemakers behind. As he approached the figure, he lifted the metal visor to show off his face, or most of it. "Hail, friend!" his deep masculine voice called out to the traveler as he slowed his beast to a stop. "May I ask? Are you the 13-Jzall that we've heard so much of? The very same that has tamed some of the wilder fires of Tyson Renegade? If so, we have some questions. And if your hunt was successful your reward."
[Image: source.gif]
"Centurion: I'll leave you to your work then Dust. Thanks for chatting!
Me: no problem. stay awesome!
Centurion: It's more of a passive ability"
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#2
13 looked at the men on horses curiously, they had just noticed him and were obviously surprised by their body language. Their leader was covered in heavy armour and wielded a two handed sword. The others that had been left behind were dressed in lighter armour and wielded smaller swords or primitive projectile weapons. They all seemed to be mounted on horses as well, which was likely the only link between his world and theirs. He took in the message and thought for a moment on how to put it in layman’s terms.

“Yes, I am the skitarii unit designated 13-jzall who defeated Tyson Renegade. It may not have been permanent but there is a non 0 chance of him returning for some time. It would have been an easy task as well but I fear-” The gears and spokes in 13’s head began to audibly whir faster at this point, showing 13’s annoyance. “-that Tyson cheated and used magic. He even attempted to run at one point, but he just died slightly later.”

He then nodded slightly, waiting for the questions and possibly the reward.
My armour is steel.
My shield is logic.
My weapon is faith.

By the Omnissiah I will let none survive.
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#3
"This is great news, there is so much to celebrate in your words alone. And yet, I still am required to ask you some things despite the joyous information. First, let me dismount." the heavily armored soldier explained while already dropping the reins of his beast on its neck. With practiced balance and powerful but swift movements, the knight dismounted effortlessly. A moment later he faced the red-garbed figure. He considered him for a moment, while he didn't smile Dermot's demeanor was friendly and respectful. He turned back to his horse and searched through the pack on his mount. When he had fished out the bag of Camelot gold, he turned and approached the bounty hunter. "Let me congratulate you?" he asked, already offering his hand for a handshake and the bag as a reward.

Some would wonder why he'd willingly give away the reward for the hunt when the hunter was a suspect. He never claimed to be the smartest of the land, but he was not a fool. Call it a show of good faith, call it an incentive, call it how you see it, but the knight decided that the 'skitarii unit' has done more than enough to earn this reward. Paying him the intended reward would do little harm to the large scheme of the omniverse.

"We are mostly enchanted by the results of what has transpired. The townsfolk told us of the cruel toxic language that he implemented to speak to common folk, with the attitude of a temperamental child whose day is ruined by inconveniences aplenty. If anything I feel envy towards your weapon of choice to due in such a vile criminal, but I do applaud your work. However, there is a spot upon your own record towards this fiend... I have been told of only one death that others would deem 'unnecessary'... Why in the Devil did you slash down the late Lord Pike?" Sir Dermot asked, finally.

This was followed up with a strictly serious look. 13 had his undivided attention, but not his enmity.
[Image: source.gif]
"Centurion: I'll leave you to your work then Dust. Thanks for chatting!
Me: no problem. stay awesome!
Centurion: It's more of a passive ability"
Reply

#4
13’s mechadendrites were audible now, snaking back as fast as they could into 13’s coat and grabbing the cognis flamers in there and hiding. 13 cocked his head to the left slightly, confused by the question. Was the person talking to him really so weak as to question why a traitor was killed?

“Lord Pike was a traitor who assisted Tyson Renegade’s escape. If he assisted one criminal, he would undoubtedly assist more. Better to treat the cause rather than the symptom. Tyson killed a very large amount of people and whoever would assist him deserves the same fate in my opinion. If you disagree morally then that’s fine but if you have come to arrest me for it then you will find it as easy as you would hope.”

13 straightened his head and flexed his dormant fingers, rousing the machine spirits in to be ready for battle despite how unfortunate that would be. 13's posture remained the same it had been for the entire conversation, his hands had just strayed a bit closer to his guns.
My armour is steel.
My shield is logic.
My weapon is faith.

By the Omnissiah I will let none survive.
Reply

#5
So his suspicions were false... 13-Jzall did not see through the criminal's disguise but had instead seen through his crimes in disguise. He'd been wondering if the bounty hunter had indeed just committed percieved regicide without reason, and while there was some vague mention that Tyson had returned to address the bounty on his head - the whole town heard him do so - his friend could not go into greater detail when pushed as he'd been absent at the time. Apparently attempting to do as the demon wished, trying to get the bounty removed. When the right-hand man of Quinn Pike emerged from his failed mission, the 'Lord' of the land was expired.

They found him in the offices forging papers for a bounty on the guy who did it... While he was able to send word through faster means through the unfortunately existing scum of the verse, the officials that handled these kinds of things immediately noticed several errors in the reports. Specifically that the spelling and grammar were atrocious for a supposed scribe. Not that anyone was exceptional enough to be considered an expert, they have come to expect a level of competence the uneducated ruffian couldn't reproduce.

Sir Dermot's men looked antsy as they watched their commander parle with the person they've been traveling night and day to see. Horses adjusted under the weight of King Aragorn's men, but a fraction of some simple jem from the crown.

The heavily armored knight before him nodded his head as much as he could with the limited motion available to him due to the helmet.

"Actually... It would seem that the late Lord wasn't even of blood relation to the political figure that had been the original head of government in the city. Given he had apparently buckled under the applied pressure of Tyson to disgrace the name of our King, I say you were doing everyone a favor. A coward, a crook, and cadaver..." he looked down at the ground, not even aware that 13 was preparing for battle in front of him. "When I was first assigned this carny case, I was convinced I would need to issue an arrest at every corner of the verse. I've been pleasantly proven wrong, impressed even, by the challenges you've conqured on your way." he nodded in agreement with his side of the conversation.

The commander looked back at the crowd of horsemen he's been leading. Part of him wondered if this was the correct way to handle this. But indeed, he'd been given the position of power under the idea that he could handle things. So if his judgment was flawed, he only had the man at Aragorn's feet to blame, and he would die a man who believed he'd done the right thing.

"Welp... I can't see why I should take up more of your time." he finally admitted, turning to remount his horse. With as much grace as before, he lifted himself with the stirrup, swung his leg over the beast, and then fixed his foot's placement to have more solid control. "I was also under the impression I would have to consult you seriously about not attacking the leaders of our land... But honestly, I am grateful you were able to analyze the situation so well. Still, please do not make it much of a habit of taking the law in your own hands. I, as I imagine our Majesty would, would like to keep on good terms with people like you."
[Image: source.gif]
"Centurion: I'll leave you to your work then Dust. Thanks for chatting!
Me: no problem. stay awesome!
Centurion: It's more of a passive ability"
Reply

#6
13 nodded slowly as the man drew away, turning into a shake of his head once he had gone far enough away. Legality was never important, laws could be bent, broken and remade only to be broken again. What was important was what would further and solidify the grip of mankind. Only then would laws be neccesary in orddr to make sure nothing happened. 13 filed down the profile of the knight, knowing that they would not share his views on what was important for humanity. He took out Tyson's sword and looked at it, noticing now all the imperfections of it. He walked over to a nearby rock and smote it with the sword, cracking the rock somewhat but nearly destroying the sword. Disgustedly, he broke the blade over his knee and threw it onto the soft grass. Now without a prize, he began the walk back to the forge. He needed to improve some of his gear after the horrendous show that the fight with Tyson was, but after that he would be free to move to a new verse that he had not yet been to.
My armour is steel.
My shield is logic.
My weapon is faith.

By the Omnissiah I will let none survive.
Reply

#7
Sir Dermont and his mounted calvary headed back towards the lawless languished land where this heralded from. A long walk back, but they could finally get the results asked of them. He would go on to care for the place until its act was cleansed once more of heretics and abusive men out for power. Several of the people brought with him would stay to keep the people safe while demolishing the forte that caused so much chaos.

As for him? He personally is off to find this mysterious prime who relished in the raw disorder his mayhem has caused. Not yet before addressing his superiors, who agree he should be released like a hellhound to chase down the offender.



And thus, closed the chapter of Tyson Renagade - a mere pawn to say the least, but an effective one.
[Image: source.gif]
"Centurion: I'll leave you to your work then Dust. Thanks for chatting!
Me: no problem. stay awesome!
Centurion: It's more of a passive ability"
Reply



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