The Baptism of Fire
Posted: Tue Jul 26, 2022 3:23 am
Glade 8th 4612
Oliver’s ship had sunk with no recollection on why it had happened for which he had found himself stranded on the beaches of Sil’Elaine. A foreign land to Oliver, although it was proven to be dark, gloomy and deeply troubling to him. He had no other choice than to find a place to sleep for his own survival. Another betrayal on Oliver’s behalf. At first, it was the leader of the Golden Eagles, Samuel, who met his demise following a trail of greed, only to be slain by a creature of desire that was once a living remnant of the land.
However, Oliver wasn’t processing the events in his head correctly, shellshocked by what he had seen. The ripping of his still beating heart plagued his mind as he wouldn’t know what kind of savagery went on in the heart of the Unbreathing Horde. To this day, he wonders about these mysteries but is fearful to pursue them.
During the night within the Darklands, he had been peacefully camping, he heard something rustling as fast the wind. Oliver picked up his rifle, shivering and shaking at the site he had just witnessed. Yet, still the events from Icheron blanked his mind, it wasn't until he was met with the heat as a sound of a blade came ricocheting towards Oliver's direction, only it didn't aim for him. It aimed towards a creature who had lunged at him. The sharp teeth, white cloudy eyes. It appeared to be in pain and yet hungry, so hungry that it appeared to lunge towards Oliver's direction fast, until the vantablack armoured man doused the creature in flame and slew him, decapitating him and burning the remainder of his corpse.
"Sil'Elaine is no place for a human..." His voice was sharp and stern.
Oliver looked around for a moment "I'm lost, I... I was washed up at sea, any chance you know of a safe place of refuge?"
"The Citadel Gallows, come..."
The Sil'Elainian hospitality was offered as it appeared Oliver had needed it, but the place appeared to be under unrest, Sil'Norai appeared to be mournful and yet there was so much fear and sadness; Oliver began to empathise with them, but he was just a human from the Grisic Empire; he had never witnessed such pain and suffering, only luxury and conveinence. Perhaps being a Griscian citizen didn't really matter much to Oliver, for he would always be judged no matter what his stature.
"Why were you wondering the Darklands of Sil'Elaine alone, you could've been feasted upon by the Dranoch."
"I was washed ashore to these lands; the bloody explorers I was with left me for death, unfortunately the lifeboat I took decided that this was the appropriate direction." Oliver stated.
"Where was the expedition?"
"Icheron, we were exploring, although I witnessed alot of horror... Including the death of a friend and... The vast undead across the land..."
"Undead?"
"Yes, undead..." He snapped, Oliver was still traumatised by the event, trying to comprehend everything that happened, processing the thought of the experiences of Icheron and the death of Samuel, all because they wanted the same thing. To be accepted by their folk and to never live in mediocrity, only prosperity. What did it cost? Morality. However, it seemed that he would be falling from grace; the moment he defied most of the Pillars of Duty. This was the notion that made Oliver realise that he wasn't happy.
Will he ever be happy?
The Ebon Knight watched and narrowed his eyes, knowing it would be something to consider for the future of the Remedy, however they needed to focus on one thing at a time "And you must have a name, right?" The Ebon Knight asked.
"Oliver... Oliver Carnahan." He stated truthfully. "I'm from the Grisic Empire originally, I came on a journey to just improve my life, but so far it's only brought me misery... I somehow ended up here, it seems like my crew didn't wake me up on time, nor told me what happened. Left me for death on a sinking sack..."
"Hmm... A commoner trying to make it by, well arent we all..." The Ebon Knight narrowed his eyes further in thought. He saw the man had clearly witnessed alot, his thoughts pondered towards something much more rewarding for Oliver, or yet it could be deemed as another curse "You're still trying to find acceptance in this society am I correct?"
"I... Guess?" Oliver answered half-heartedly.
"I suggest you forget it and follow your instincts from now on, although I want you to take a good look around this place, look at the people cowering against the hungry lords, the Dranoch they call them..."
"Dranoch?" Oliver remembered a book on such a blight, the fairytales that was used to scare Griscian children to sleep. "You mean those monsters in fairytales, that eat you alive?"
"Was what you just witnessed a fairytale?" The Ebon Knight snapped as Oliver cowered slightly, the harshness was meant to drive some sort of warning within Oliver. He remained silent at the words and contemplated. He spent the night at the Citadel, only he couldn't sleep. All he could think about was his experiences; it was driving him into a den of madness as it suddenly clicked to him.
"It doesn't matter anymore..."
The prospects of all of his identity had simply gone; everything he was deemed to be appeared to vanish, everything that he had tried to build simply gone. He had nothing. There was only one hope, if there wasnt any hope of beating the so-called monsters that Grisic feared, the best place was to join them. Perhaps the harshness of the gods was inflicted for a reason.
A good reason.
Oliver could feel the fear coursing through his veins, for the Black Remedy was the only way forward for him; if he couldn't strive to be the perfect citizen in Grisic, at least he could give in to making some sort of change in the world. After all, the extraordinary isn't in someone's status but in what marks they make on the world, regardless if they are terrible or good willed. There will always be bias, but Oliver would simply open his mind to anything now, knowing that he could live a much more fulfilled life.
He accepted their offer and spoke the words of a true Ebon Knight, for which Aldrin Sil'Jalus was the one to light his Beacon and begin the initiation.
The Baptism of Fire.
"From Oaths, Order.
Order is my commitment. Strength is my tool. Belief is my weapon.
I am one blade among a million, pointed to the forms of our slavers; meant to drive through their necks. To rectify their scourge.
I am the Cleric that will cure the land. I am the Wraith that will cull the deathless. I am the Revenant that will hunt them beyond the grave.
From Oaths, Order. With Order, Strength and Belief, we will be free."
A searing pain would enter Oliver's soul, as the Beacon would embellish into his own body, making Oliver feel anxious for a moment as he was engulfed in flames. The burning would continue until he had the mark branded into his skin.
The Black Sigil.
“Rise, Cleric of the Black Remedy…”
A dark voice boomed as Oliver had chosen his path now; he had broken the shackles of his own society, freeing him from any doubt he had before. There were more important things in life than money, prosperity, wealth and other material things. He may have come from a rich family, but it was time to break the cycle of traditionalism and focus on what Oliver truly wants.
Whatever that may be…
“I’m no longer who I was, but who I am now…” Oliver said with stoic confidence and relief, like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Yet, no burden was easily lifted, he still had doubts, insecurities that needed to be dealt with, but eventually there would come a time where Oliver would just accept who he was.
He was a mage as well as an cunning and resourceful explorer; there was no doubt that his intelligence, wit and wisdom that he would one day guide someone else on the path to greatness.
Someone like him, someone who had been in the same shoes as him. He did things because society told him to, but what if society was just a fraction of who he was?
There was something more.
Oliver’s ship had sunk with no recollection on why it had happened for which he had found himself stranded on the beaches of Sil’Elaine. A foreign land to Oliver, although it was proven to be dark, gloomy and deeply troubling to him. He had no other choice than to find a place to sleep for his own survival. Another betrayal on Oliver’s behalf. At first, it was the leader of the Golden Eagles, Samuel, who met his demise following a trail of greed, only to be slain by a creature of desire that was once a living remnant of the land.
However, Oliver wasn’t processing the events in his head correctly, shellshocked by what he had seen. The ripping of his still beating heart plagued his mind as he wouldn’t know what kind of savagery went on in the heart of the Unbreathing Horde. To this day, he wonders about these mysteries but is fearful to pursue them.
During the night within the Darklands, he had been peacefully camping, he heard something rustling as fast the wind. Oliver picked up his rifle, shivering and shaking at the site he had just witnessed. Yet, still the events from Icheron blanked his mind, it wasn't until he was met with the heat as a sound of a blade came ricocheting towards Oliver's direction, only it didn't aim for him. It aimed towards a creature who had lunged at him. The sharp teeth, white cloudy eyes. It appeared to be in pain and yet hungry, so hungry that it appeared to lunge towards Oliver's direction fast, until the vantablack armoured man doused the creature in flame and slew him, decapitating him and burning the remainder of his corpse.
"Sil'Elaine is no place for a human..." His voice was sharp and stern.
Oliver looked around for a moment "I'm lost, I... I was washed up at sea, any chance you know of a safe place of refuge?"
"The Citadel Gallows, come..."
The Sil'Elainian hospitality was offered as it appeared Oliver had needed it, but the place appeared to be under unrest, Sil'Norai appeared to be mournful and yet there was so much fear and sadness; Oliver began to empathise with them, but he was just a human from the Grisic Empire; he had never witnessed such pain and suffering, only luxury and conveinence. Perhaps being a Griscian citizen didn't really matter much to Oliver, for he would always be judged no matter what his stature.
"Why were you wondering the Darklands of Sil'Elaine alone, you could've been feasted upon by the Dranoch."
"I was washed ashore to these lands; the bloody explorers I was with left me for death, unfortunately the lifeboat I took decided that this was the appropriate direction." Oliver stated.
"Where was the expedition?"
"Icheron, we were exploring, although I witnessed alot of horror... Including the death of a friend and... The vast undead across the land..."
"Undead?"
"Yes, undead..." He snapped, Oliver was still traumatised by the event, trying to comprehend everything that happened, processing the thought of the experiences of Icheron and the death of Samuel, all because they wanted the same thing. To be accepted by their folk and to never live in mediocrity, only prosperity. What did it cost? Morality. However, it seemed that he would be falling from grace; the moment he defied most of the Pillars of Duty. This was the notion that made Oliver realise that he wasn't happy.
Will he ever be happy?
The Ebon Knight watched and narrowed his eyes, knowing it would be something to consider for the future of the Remedy, however they needed to focus on one thing at a time "And you must have a name, right?" The Ebon Knight asked.
"Oliver... Oliver Carnahan." He stated truthfully. "I'm from the Grisic Empire originally, I came on a journey to just improve my life, but so far it's only brought me misery... I somehow ended up here, it seems like my crew didn't wake me up on time, nor told me what happened. Left me for death on a sinking sack..."
"Hmm... A commoner trying to make it by, well arent we all..." The Ebon Knight narrowed his eyes further in thought. He saw the man had clearly witnessed alot, his thoughts pondered towards something much more rewarding for Oliver, or yet it could be deemed as another curse "You're still trying to find acceptance in this society am I correct?"
"I... Guess?" Oliver answered half-heartedly.
"I suggest you forget it and follow your instincts from now on, although I want you to take a good look around this place, look at the people cowering against the hungry lords, the Dranoch they call them..."
"Dranoch?" Oliver remembered a book on such a blight, the fairytales that was used to scare Griscian children to sleep. "You mean those monsters in fairytales, that eat you alive?"
"Was what you just witnessed a fairytale?" The Ebon Knight snapped as Oliver cowered slightly, the harshness was meant to drive some sort of warning within Oliver. He remained silent at the words and contemplated. He spent the night at the Citadel, only he couldn't sleep. All he could think about was his experiences; it was driving him into a den of madness as it suddenly clicked to him.
"It doesn't matter anymore..."
The prospects of all of his identity had simply gone; everything he was deemed to be appeared to vanish, everything that he had tried to build simply gone. He had nothing. There was only one hope, if there wasnt any hope of beating the so-called monsters that Grisic feared, the best place was to join them. Perhaps the harshness of the gods was inflicted for a reason.
A good reason.
Oliver could feel the fear coursing through his veins, for the Black Remedy was the only way forward for him; if he couldn't strive to be the perfect citizen in Grisic, at least he could give in to making some sort of change in the world. After all, the extraordinary isn't in someone's status but in what marks they make on the world, regardless if they are terrible or good willed. There will always be bias, but Oliver would simply open his mind to anything now, knowing that he could live a much more fulfilled life.
He accepted their offer and spoke the words of a true Ebon Knight, for which Aldrin Sil'Jalus was the one to light his Beacon and begin the initiation.
The Baptism of Fire.
"From Oaths, Order.
Order is my commitment. Strength is my tool. Belief is my weapon.
I am one blade among a million, pointed to the forms of our slavers; meant to drive through their necks. To rectify their scourge.
I am the Cleric that will cure the land. I am the Wraith that will cull the deathless. I am the Revenant that will hunt them beyond the grave.
From Oaths, Order. With Order, Strength and Belief, we will be free."
A searing pain would enter Oliver's soul, as the Beacon would embellish into his own body, making Oliver feel anxious for a moment as he was engulfed in flames. The burning would continue until he had the mark branded into his skin.
The Black Sigil.
“Rise, Cleric of the Black Remedy…”
A dark voice boomed as Oliver had chosen his path now; he had broken the shackles of his own society, freeing him from any doubt he had before. There were more important things in life than money, prosperity, wealth and other material things. He may have come from a rich family, but it was time to break the cycle of traditionalism and focus on what Oliver truly wants.
Whatever that may be…
“I’m no longer who I was, but who I am now…” Oliver said with stoic confidence and relief, like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Yet, no burden was easily lifted, he still had doubts, insecurities that needed to be dealt with, but eventually there would come a time where Oliver would just accept who he was.
He was a mage as well as an cunning and resourceful explorer; there was no doubt that his intelligence, wit and wisdom that he would one day guide someone else on the path to greatness.
Someone like him, someone who had been in the same shoes as him. He did things because society told him to, but what if society was just a fraction of who he was?
There was something more.