#ofbulwark

☢ - A day my muse felt incredibly bad on, because they let themself down in some respect.

I’ve made a botch of things.

All this care towards meditation and pacing my meals… For what? All this preparation only to destroy a kinship before it could truly form. I can only imagine what she thinks of me now, what she’s telling the others.

 The sister of the church, poor Adenay, traveled with me on an expedition to the ruins of the squalid manor, the once lively ( i assume ) and gilded halls now debased and overrun with cultists and undead. The living come back to life was enough by itself to unnerve, to shake her poise, but she steeled her will through verses of the Light, many I still recognize.

I sought to reinforce her resolve by disclosing details of my past: my time in the monastery, my faith and devotion to the Holy Light. She seemed reinvigorated and reassured to have someone alike by her side. All seemed well.

Had our dealings been complete, perhaps I wouldn’t be writing here, but alas-

A wretched skeletal champion awaited us in the next room, clad in armor and armed with a heavy mace. Our burlier compatriots naturally clashed with it first while they left the comparatively weaker underlings to us. Any wounds inflicted on me were swiftly healed by Adenay’s connection to light while my resilient physicality and unconventional chain work ( my lack of skill with a blade has yet to hurt my combat prowess! )  was sufficient enough to remove the present threats.

But then Vane’s axe hit the ground, he stood there dazed as Gaveston threw himself in front of him to shield the blow. One that I imagine would have have shattered Vane’s skull on contact.

They both went flying into the wall.

As the creature advanced on us, I urged Adenay over and over to retreat. At worst, to be the sole survivor and at best, so that she might avoid the only apparent option for me to take to combat the being on even footing. I found my own attempts in bettering her mental fortitude rather ironic since at that moment, she refused to leave my side.

Fate is a cruel mistress indeed.

As we fought the being, I could feel the control over my body waning. I began to start using the brute force in my arms rather than the metal chains, my reflexes allowed me to dodge attacks my mind was hardly even aware of, speech began to… elude me. My memory blurred right about the moment, the cursed thing hit Adenay. I saw blood leak from her head and-

I remember coming to, bruises on my forearms and shattered bits of bone and torn metal around me. Vane, uncharacteristically cautious, approached me. His mask made it difficult to gauge a reaction, but he helped me to my fight without a word, patted me on the shoulder. Rather tame, considering the circumstances.

Adenay fared much worse. Her slight fidgeting before was nothing compared to the seizure-like shakes that moved her whole body. Any attempt on Gaveston’s part to calm or console her failed, her only reaction a steady and fearful chant of ‘no’ as she tried to smack him away. Even worse was when she laid her eyes on me…

Fear.

Pure, unbridled fear. Her outbursts quelled any semblance of recovery from this skirmish, we had to return to the hamlet. And with her continuous accusations leveled against me, it wouldn’t surprise me if my time of employment was cut short. However, I’m not just upset about that potential outcome- 

No | Rather Not | I Dunno | I Guess | Sure | Yes | FUCK yes | Oh. God. You Don’t Even Know |