The Knight and The Captain.

Three days prior...

Spoiler:

Pat: "Try to appeal to his right and proper Occitanian sense of manhood. Ask if the old Occitanian Order still lives - or if it's been replaced by noble daisies like him."
Rutabega: **Stom rears his head back and lets out a loud bark of laughter. He takes a few moments to calm himself, exhaling quite heavily as he goes to regain his composure. "Oh...That's a good one, Ser. I didn't know the Occitanian hate was so fresh in your veins."
Pat: **Barton gives a short laugh and a growing, widening smile. "And if he says the Order still lives - ask him how they could ever live after they got trounced at the battle of Loic-Soldat. Or the battle of Warthrop, or Leyanara, or Vale."
Rutabega: *Stom can't help but laugh, reaching up to rub at his bandaged cheek. "What I wouldn't give to just be fighting normal humans again..."
Pat: "Wouldn't it be just so. But, really. We're a nation founded by something more than human. We represent something higher than just flesh. And they know it."
Rutabega: "I'll admit to that much...Surna especially seems to be a magnet for the supernatural."
Pat: "Isn't that the way, in stories. Never know quite why it all happens to happen right here. Yet, there they are. The Heroes of Surna."
Rutabega: "I heard you made mention of them to the Irregulars. I was off with Elizabeth and my men so I can't say I heard it."
Pat: "You heard about that? Heh.."
Pat: **Barton looks a bit sheepish. "What are a bunch of names other than sometimes to rally behind? It's the truth, though. The Irregulars are at least partially a symbolic gesture."
Pat: "The Heroes of Surna, reborn in a new generation."
Pat: "Maybe not quite as shiny. But the idea helps the men, I think."
Rutabega: **Stom can't help but grin a bit. "And that'd mean that any rebirth of the age of heroes is squarely on your shoulders."
Rutabega: "An' to be fair. Based on that suit of armor that belonged to my great great great grandfather the old heroes weren't so shiny either."
Pat: **Barton gives a sheepish grin. "I have no such delusions. We're dealing with flesh and blood people, not stories. And I don't think my name will go down in the record books."
Rutabega: "Well, the old Heroes of Surna were but flesh an' blood...Lived an' died as any man today will. Trust me though, Ser... Might be best if yer name don't go down in history. The name Razel just means I've got a lot to live up to, it won't do your future descendants no good."
Pat: "Better than a name to live down too. You know who the Freidholds were, don't you?"
Rutabega: "Some damn fine military minds have gone by that name, if memory serves."
Pat: "Good or bad, I prefer to live as my own man. I joined the Knights because of who I was, not because of my name."
Rutabega: "Can't say I can claim th'same...It's Razel family tradition to serve in the Watch or the Military."
Rutabega: "Man or woman, any direct descendant from Thorn and Shelob has served under either the Talibarian; Surnan or Sanctimonian flag."
Pat: "And you gladly adhere to that tradition, Stom?"
Pat: **Stom might easily notice Barton using his first name for perhaps the first time.**
Rutabega: **Stom pauses for a moment, then shrugs. "Y'know you're the second person t'ask me about that tradition this week...I don't rightfully know, to be honest. My ma an' pop read me bedtime stories of the Otherlord Phobia an' the Black Tower, then when I was six I was sent off to the Sanctimonian officer's academy...Graduated at fourteen an' was enlisted right into the ranks as a junior lieutenant...Dozen or so years later an' more battles then I can count...Here I am..." He pauses, shifting ever so slightly, somewhat hesitant to go on. "Sometimes I do wonder if I'm my own person, though... Livin' the life that my family has lived for generations...That armor always there in the background...Watching...Whispering to me each time I look at it. I will admit though, it all does come natural as spit."
Pat: "Don't get me wrong. You're a damn fine soldier, and a better commander. If you turned in your uniform and rifle today in search of your own life, I'd kick your ass back to boot and make you work your way back up. Right now, Surna needs every soldier she can get."
Pat: "But once this is over.. And it will end, one day.. You may want to reconsider."
Rutabega: **Stom chuckles, favoring the knight with a smile. "First time anybody has ever told me that the uniform wasn't for me, Ser. You're probably right though...I mean, obviously we Razels don't wear the uniform t'ill we die...Though, plenty haven't made it into retirement over the years... Our family has always kept one line from Thorn close...'I'll keep on fighting until the world no longer has need of me or until I die.'...Granted he did end up dyin' out in the Wastes, if you believe the stories."
Pat: "If you feel it in yourself, Stom. Just because you excel at something doesn't mean you're bound to it. You're not your ancestor. Whatever his beliefs... that was his life, not yours. "
Rutabega: "True enough...One could argue that eventually we all become one in the same...My family has some...Odd traditions."
Pat: "Traditions?"
Rutabega: **Stom shifts over onto his other foot, clearing his throat though. "We've never really talk about if, it can be helped...Not sure if it'd constitute as heretical or not...To be honest."
Rutabega: **The Captain pauses, swallowing. "Y'know how I said that armor was always watching, whispering...? Well it wasn't just a figure of speech."
Pat: **Barton frowns, looking Stom in the eyes. "Your ancestor's armor..? ....You kept the Stygian?"
Rutabega: "If you stand close enough you hear echoes in your mind...Can't make any sense of them...But they're there, jumbled an' muttled...See, when a Razel dies, if at all possible their bodies are placed in the family armor an' set upon a Pyre..."
Rutabega: "Er...Aye ser. The family was allowed to keep it in light of Thorn's repentance and service to Tyr."
Rutabega: "That an' it no longer contained a Baneic spawn soul."
Rutabega: "The helmet's missing...Went missing shotly after the original owner died, but th'rest has been passed down through the generations.
Pat: "And yet, now it contains something else... doesn't it."
Rutabega: "Family tradition says that when your body is placed in the armor and burned a small part of it is kept within the suit."
Rutabega: "O' course, every Razel is told from as early as they can remember, -never- put it on, not even a piece. It's kept locked away from the kids an' as far as I'm aware nobody alive has ever worn it since it's original owner."
Pat: "That
Pat: "That's .. good. And nobody should ever wear that suit of armor ever again. Your family, quite frankly, have turned it into a death trap."
Rutabega: "I won't lie Ser...I almost did...Once."
Rutabega: "When...D-David...Commander Halberry...That demon...The things it was doin' to him...An' I was powerless to stop him...Stop him from doin' all that wrong in David's skin an' I jus' thought of his wife, his sons... his youngest daughter..." The commander turns his face away from the Concordic knight in a rare show as emotion gets the better of him. "That armor belonged to a man who killed a god..."
Rutabega: *He glances back to Barton, a pained grin on his lips. "Good bloody thing I didn't eh? Priest came by an' fixed that demonic bastard quick as y'please."
Pat: **Barton falls silent as Stom recounts the story, a look of pain and remorse growing on his face. "I'm sorry, Captain. I've seen a demonic possession before. It....It isn't pretty. If there's one thing I fear in the course of my duty to the Crown, it's the power that these - these fiends - Demons, Vampires, Necromancers - can have over your mind. How they can take your own flesh and soul and turn it against yourself, against your own people."
Pat: **Barton glances off, out the window. "Like..these suicides. Those poor bastards. Out of their minds and out of their wits... harmin' themselves and spouting nonsense."
Rutabega: "It ain't easy t'watch...Soon as I saw 'em there I knew what was comin' an' jus' the thought of it filled me with a stomach churnin' dread...Truth be told reason I ran in there like I did was jus' cause I don't reckon I had the stomach to jus' watch."
Pat: "Death doesn't quite scare me. I don't shirk from pain when it is necessary. But, by Tyr's name, keep my mind and soul my own. It's a fate I wouldn't wish upon anyone."
Pat: **Barton looks to Stom. "Who would? Fathers and sons, mothers and daughters.. Their lives used up like so much currency."
Rutabega: "There were others there...They jus' stood back...I kept shoutin' at them to help me wrestle the group down...Elizabeth was the only one who came..."
Pat: "I'm sorry I wasn't there, Captain."
Rutabega: "Think nothin' of it, Ser. We each do what we can. Can't be everywhere at once. I saved three of 'em...Though Illmatyr knows if their minds are their own, or ever will be."
Rutabega: "But...Guess that's just three more reasons to hunt down that machine, and soon."
Rutabega: **Stom chuckles a bit, reaching back and scratching at the side of his head. "Funny, suddenly makes that whole duel an' vampire issue seem so minor an' trivial..."
Pat: "We deal with things as they come. The struggle never truly ends. Never fully. The difference is where you draw the line, and where you can stand to let the world run itself."
Pat: **Barton shrugs a bit, smiling. "I haven't gotten there yet. My eye is sharp and my blade keen. I can serve the Crown, and I don't intend to quit any time soon."
Pat: "But that's me."
Pat: "When this is over, Captain, you may want to consider yourself."
Rutabega: "Aye Ser but, when is it truly over?"
Pat: "When the bastard Marcus Olm lays dead at our feet, Captain. Then we can start wrapping it up, I think."
Rutabega: "An' what about this machine, not to mention the Blight mage...An gods forbid, whoever is pulling all th'strings.
Pat: "Let's put a bullet in this machine and have the other two's heads on a platter, what do you say?" **Barton laughs a bit, then sighs, glancing out the window. "Like I said, Captain. The end comes where you draw the line. Where you can stand to let the world run itself."
Rutabega: *Stom nods a bit, following the Concordic knight's gaze.* "Aye, I reckon you've the right of it... First thing once 'this' is all 'over' though, I'll send the girls out fer th'day and we'll see about havin' a nice quiet drink at my place. I'll break out one of the older vintages."
Pat: **Barton gives a smirk. "That's a deal I'll hold you to, you know. None of that cheap imported Pychekan stuff. Homegrown Santimonian vintage, and nothing else."
Rutabega: "I reckon if I dig deep enough I may have something pre-Occitanian occupation... My great great great granddad hoarded liquor...Word was he was a massive alcoholic."

RIP Barton and Stom.

BooM wrote:

RIP Barton and Stom.

Shame I never got to really know Stom. Aedelric and him could've possibly had a good dialogue or two.