Lucius’s companions stared awestruck at the dramatic scene. The mild-mannered Ruggiero they had come to know was much more powerful, more bold, than initially thought. He raced across the skies on his steed of metal, and brought deliverance to the gargantuan demon with a single strike of his greatsword.
It was no wonder why the Franks had confined him to the castle: a beast tamed was still a beast all the same, especially one forcefully brought under heel. They stripped his claws and smothered his will, but the man from the Moors still held a warrior’s spirit.
“I thought the guy was supposed to be a healer,” Mili said, gazing at Ruggiero with starstruck eyes. “If all the Peers are as strong as him, why’s there only one dude protecting the fortress? Probably could’ve just gathered them all and made a beeline for the Demon King.”
It was a valid question, one Lucius had been pondering himself. Near half of the known Peers were stationed at the capital: That left the other half unattended for. What could their duties possibly be, that they’d be forced into maintaining this stalemate with the demons?
One needed only look at the destruction strewn about to see that the fortress was in constant need for manpower. If Ruggiero hadn’t arrived, many more paladins would’ve perished this day—perhaps even the commander himself.
Except, something felt off. Surely an experienced man such as Ogier would have accounted for potential variables. He had guarded this realm for countless years; this couldn’t have been the first that a large demon such as the Great Oak made an appearance.
Unless it was. Perhaps… a new variable had attracted the thing. What was different from before? What could possibly have caused such sudden deviation from the invasions of yesteryear?
The answer was the players. They were the reason for the change in the demons’ behavior.
>[Main Questline: Troubled Beginnings]<
You have witnessed firsthand the enemy you must defeat. Roncevaux Fortress is on its last legs; the paladins have long been drained of morale. Even worse, a shift in the demonic tide has begun to reveal itself. The invasions grow more intense, and new enemies will crawl out from the mountaintops.
To you, the heroes summoned to this land, learn to combat the demons while they are still yet weak. Gather experience, increase your stats, and prepare as best you can for the inevitable wave soon to come.
Mission: Contribute to the Fortress’s defense for the next thirty days. You will gain points for various activities, such as slaying demons, brewing restoratives, mending equipment, or crafting weapons. Both combat and production-oriented classes will have opportunities to level up. At the end of the mission date, points will be tallied, and rewards shall be given based on accomplishment.
Success: Dependent on contribution.
Failure: Should the fortress fall, relationship with the Holy Empire will decrease drastically, and a permanent debuff will be applied to all players while within the World of Charlemagne.
A new quest popped up before the players, confirming their fears. This was merely the beginning. They, too, would have to fight alongside the fortress guards, but after witnessing the demented brutality wrought by the demons, they were understandably anxious of the future to come.
Lucius’s fellows, for their part, were handling their new reality much better than the others. Mili still looked a bit unnerved, but the electricity in her eyes sparked wild, resolved to push on. Marco was still composed as usual, but the one who surprised Lucius the most was the good Miss Brooks.
She didn’t quite have the stomach for gory sights; despite it all, though, the firefighter remained calm and collected. The gentleman noticed this quality from her before, especially during the first announcement of the demons’ assault, but whether it was merely her personality or in due thanks to a skill yet unseen was anyone’s guess.
After a moment, Ruggiero leapt off his steed and landed right next to Ogier. The two men regarded each other in a tense standoff, before breaking out into hearty laughs.Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
“Your skills have not waned, Winged Terror,” Ogier said. “I am delighted to greet you as a friend, rather than foe.”
He rubbed his beard and beheld the warfront strewn with the demonic tree’s remains. A glint of regret passed through his eyes, seemingly pondering what fate would have awaited them had the foreign paladin not come to their aid, but it quickly disappeared - buried under his typical glower.
“The Demon King’s curse was not content with corrupting the beasts. Now, it has seized even the forest spirits.” Ogier shook his head and grimaced. “This is an ill omen. Soon, there will be no corner of the wilds untouched by its spreading stain. Take your whelps back and retreat to the capital.”
“You speak as if you intend to die here.” Ruggiero shook the man’s arm and firmly met his eye.
“Such is my fate. How can I leave, when the bones of my brothers and sisters have yet to find peace?”
“You cannot despair now. Why not trust in the heroes? Bradamante and I have seen their potential; with their aid, there shall be no need for more sacrifice. Have hope, my friend.”
Ogier pried free and muttered a dark chuckle to himself. “Hope? I abandoned that thought long ago. But if you wish to litter the soil with their bodies, then do as you please. I will neither chase them out nor beg for alms.”
With that, he walked away and left Ruggiero. The paladin stood there in silence for a time, uncertain on how best to appeal toward the somber giant.
“Ruggiero, my good sir!” Lucius cried out to him from atop the wall. “That was a stellar display, if I do say so myself.”
The man looked up and replied with an embarrassed smile. He needed merely to jump to ascend the fortress and land next to the party.
“Lucius, it is a comfort to see you in good health,” Ruggiero said, greeting him with a humble wave. “How fare your observations of the battle?”
“It was certainly an… enlightening experience. The demons are a nauseating sight: ruthless, yet oddly naive.”
The paladin agreed. “Our priests have studied much of their kind, but it is no use. The demons are akin to a force of nature rather than that of mortal coil. They do not feast, nor speak, nor harbor any indication of intelligence. Well, save for a vile few.”
Now that intrigued the gentleman’s curiosity. “So there are those capable of individual thought?”
“Not to such an extent.” Ruggiero crossed his arms, deep in thought. “Demons ordinarily descend from the mountain in great numbers. They seem to derive no other purpose than to infest as many territories as they can. There is no logic or consideration in their movements—only an intense desire to propagate.
“However, there are some demons in particular who break away from this standard. Rather than follow the swarm, they choose to roam elsewhere for reasons we are not privy to. Their forms are larger, somewhat more whole, and will occasionally even speak the common tongue.”
“Does that mean they can be reasoned with?” Lucius asked.
To that, Ruggiero responded with a dark look. “No, certainly not. They may talk in our language, but their words are more incoherent than a child’s blabber. You will find no sense in it, nor should you ever draw close enough to hear them. There is a strange compulsion that follows in their wake. A common knight would turn mad in mere seconds.”
A wave of horror rushed through Ruggiero in that instance. He seemed to have recalled a terrible memory.
“However, you do not need to fear,” he said, recovering himself. “The empire has assigned members of the Peers to follow their movements—and repel them, if necessary.”
“You have not hunted them down?”
“Sadly, it is not so simple. Subjugating even just one of the Four Great Evils would require at least three of our ranks; but unlike the other scourge, these ones know how to retreat should they suffer sufficient wounds. The Peers are already small in number. We cannot risk perishing in these troubling times, not for the sake of slaying those who have yet to pose any real danger.”
So he said, but Lucius had a feeling these intelligent demons would not be passive for long.
Perhaps an encounter with one wasn’t all too far in the future.
Clang. Clang.
A loud, clanging bell rang out for all in the fortress to hear. The sun had begun to set.
“... Let us not linger here,” Ruggiero said, taking off his armor and dusting his clothes. Lucius offered him a handkerchief, to which the paladin gratefully accepted. “The memorial service shall soon begin. Come, we must pray for the fallen.”
The players slowly descended from the castle walls and made their way to the center of the fortress.
Death came for everyone, eventually. It was neither something to be afraid of nor celebrated. The dead were the dead, after all—They no longer had business with those of the living realm.
But to those left behind, all that could be felt was their absence. Thus was why funerals were held: to give those still alive the chance to say goodbye.
To pay respects, and move on toward the morrow still full of promise.