Completed Standard Patrol

[Joris Mevelk]

85th of Spring, 514 AV Patrol, it was a Knight’s bread and butter really though Joris found the task itself rather monotonous most days of the season. Then again, the Mage Knight supposed that it was better to be bored and alive than it was to be excited one moment and dead the next. At least that was how he rationalized it, which perhaps was not the most flattering rationalization but such was the way of things. The scenery outside of Syliras was nice at least, he supposed so that was something. The Bronze Woods did have a certain appeal to it when travelling along the Kabrin, though being that he was on horseback greatly diminished it. The tall dark haired man growled again as his horse stalled a little bit, him tugging at the reins and lightly digging his armored heels into the sides to get it to keep up the pace. The beast was not really his either, technically it belonged to the Syliran Knighthood as a whole and he was merely using it. The Mage Knight was fine with that; he did not desire to become overly familiar with the beasts anyway. As if the horse sensed his displeasure it snorted, shaking its head a bit as it kept pace with the rest of the Knightly wing patrolling this section of the Kabrin. There were five all told, each one armed and armored in their own way, though Joris favored his armored robes over the traditional full set of plate that most other Knights did. Perhaps that was something he had picked up when he and his Patron had stopped in Sahova briefly, early in his Squirehood. Whatever the case was they were at least functional, as was the other armor pieces that adorned his person. He hardly looked the typical example of a Knight, his messy dark hair looking like he had just gotten out of bed and contrasting his well-trimmed goatee. Upon the collar of his robe however was a single sword pin, he was indeed a Knight even if he did not ride like one. Dark eyes scanned the area around him, the Bronze Woods around him peaceful as far as he could tell and why would it not be? There had not been any alert or call to investigation, this was just a routine patrol a little ways down the Kabrin from the city. Joris growled at his horse again as the creature whined and stopped again, the clopping of its hoofs against the stone halting for a moment before Joris could get it moving again. He was most certainly not the best rider, but that was not why he was along after all. His magic was. After a bit of fighting with the reigns he finally managed to pull up alongside his fellow Knight bringing up the rear, a boisterous man by the name of Henry. He noted Joris pull up alongside him and chuckled softly as he shook his head at the Mage Knight’s ineptitude with riding, a small grin on his face. Joris himself rolled his eyes theatrically at his wingmate, casting his gaze elsewhere as a tiny bit of embarrassment washed over him. Knights were all supposed to be riders, decent ones at the very least, the fact that he was not burned him to no end. “Still having troubles with the horse, Ser Joris?” Henry inquired conversationally. “Yeah, well, you know how it goes, Ser Henry. You trade riding for being able to turn folks into frogs, bit of a disparity in terms of potential uses there.” The Mage Knight stated, managing a sardonic grin. Henry seemed to grow a little paler in the face at those words, which was a reminder that most of his fellows that did not practice magic were rather superstitious regarding it. Technically Joris was as well to some degree due to growing up in Sunberth, though most of the superstition had been removed by his patron. He made a mental note to avoid entering magic of any sort into the conversation, the nervous chuckle from Henry confirming that policy as a good idea. One never knew how one might take even a harmless joke regarding it; mages were a dangerous lot after all.

[Joris Mevelk]

“So anyway, another uneventful patrol eh?” Henry said, moving to ride a bit closer to Joris. “Looks to be that way to me, though it could be worse. We could be getting arrows fired at us.” The Mage Knight responded glibly and earned an actual chuckle for his efforts. “Ha! True enough. The rest of the lads and I are planning on hitting the Stallion tonight, you in?” He asked in turn. Ah, the Rearing Stallion, so many good bells spent with one’s face in a mug were something to cherish all things considered. Joris had many find memories of the place, swapping stories back and forth with his brothers and sisters in the Order. He did not have many find memories of the mornings after, especially not when there were patrols the very next day, or drills. Especially the drills, those were a nightmare with a splitting hangover. Still, Joris did not see the harm in a few drinks with his wingmates after the patrol was done. “Sure, why not? If nothing else the hangover the morning after will be a reason to enjoy a nice patrol in the city.” The Mage Knight responded. Joris cursed low as his horse halted again, resulting in him fighting with the reigns to get the blasted beast moving again. As it turned out, that halting from his horse was the reason that a whoosh of air sped right past the front of his face rather than an arrow being planted in the side of his skull. Henry unfortunately was not so fortunate, the projectile managing to hit the weak spot in his armor around his neck and resulted in a wet gurgle and his eyes bulging wide. His gauntleted hand rose to the spot where it had hit but his horse launching itself forward resulted in him losing his balance and toppling over to the road. The tall Mage Knight’s eyes widened as time seemed to slow down by a bit, a weak feeling in his stomach from narrowly avoiding an arrow and just watching a man he’d been talking two not even a tick prior fall wounded from his horse was rising. Flecks of crimson droplets adorned his face, Henry’s blood that had spattered out over him. Joris blinked once, twice, and then his horse jolted forward quick and he practically ended up hugging the beast as it was clear that his wing had come under attack. A cry came out ahead as more arrows whizzed out from the tree line, a trio of roughly armored men emerging. The Mage Knight recovered well enough as the orders from his Sergeant Knight rang clear through his fogged mind, to rally to him. Joris seized the reins hard of the frightened horse, trying to give it directions but it was obvious that his untrained hand was not going to have much luck at any moment in the near future. A couple more arrows whizzed by overhead, missing him just barely by a couple of inches each. They were under attack, it was just supposed to be a routine patrol and then bandits decided to show up? Ahead his sergeant and two other comrades were fending off a trio of the bandits, their advantage of being on horseback allowing for some use against the men on foot. The tall Mage Knight drew his dagger from his side, knowing that right now he needed to get his Projected limbs out and ready for an attack. He could not focus though, not with the flurry of the distractions around him, the arrows, the bandits, the fact he still had warm blood on his face.

[Joris Mevelk]

Joris thought quickly, reaching into the saddlebag at his side and producing his scroll, the one that he had filled those nights ago for just such an occasion like this. He managed to unfurl it and started stuttering out the trigger word, another arrow narrowly missing him and burrowing into a tree nearby. Considering that at the same time he was trying to use a scroll, he was also riding a horse that did not add up to a good result. Still, Joris managed to finally get out the Trigger phrase and direct it at his arm to hurry the process up. “Y-yomi!” He all but shouted. The scroll fizzled away in his fingers and already he could feel it going to work, unfortunately in focusing upon his scroll he had lost focus with his horse. The beast bucked up high and Joris, already losing feeling in one of his arms as it began to have its Astral body unravel, lost his balance and ended up tumbling to the ground off of his horse and landing hard and dazed. He was winded for the affair and his dagger had fallen from his grasp, tumbling out of the reach of his physical hand. The tall man was incapacitated for the moment and his head lolled to the side. His breathing seemed heavier as he watched a bandit approach from the far tree line, having obviously abandoned the idea of using arrows or simply have run out. In his hands was a crude spear, almost as crude as the clothing he wore but it certainly looked sharp enough to spear his eye out. Joris couldn’t get up yet though, his breath was still caught and he was currently trying to reregulate it. However his Astral body was still unraveling thanks to the scroll, the joints already finished and the extremities following suit but it would still take at least a chime to be fully finished. The man with the spear passed by the fallen Henry, Joris feeling a slight pang of guilt in his mind as he looked at the corpse of the other Knight. That arrow had been meant for him, not Henry or anyone else and now one of his brothers was dead because someone got a cheap shot in. Joris growled as his breathing returned to normal, attempting to rise but finding that his arm that was to be projected chose that exact moment to fully Detach itself from the Mage Knight. The tall man slumped back down with a grunt, the spear wielding man almost upon him. A booted foot planted itself upon Joris’ chest as he attempted to rise again, the bandit having reached him and was readying his spear. The Mage Knight saw his dagger lying a short distance away out of reach, and immediately sent pulses of his Djed out along his freshly projected limb. The energy was sucked out of him in a rush due to the amount of stress upon him at the moment, ethereal fingers wrapping around the hilt of the dagger and moving as quickly as Joris could make it. The spear rose up over his face, dark eyes widening as once again time seemed to slow to an agonizing crawl as he willed the Projection borne dagger to its target. The blade planted itself deep into the bandit’s eye and into his brain, the man’s body seeming to tense up as he was pretty much killed instantly. The spear tumbled harmlessly from his fingers and the tip landed beside Joris’ head with a clink. The dead bandit slumped over forward as dead weight on top of Joris, blood and bits of brain matter spattering across his face and neck as it pumped out from the dead man on top of him. The Mage Knight felt sick from the kill, from everything happening around him but the sounds of combat roused him from his state. His heavy breathing was soon forgotten as were his regrets or guilt for the moment; his fellows and superior were still under attack from these cretins. He needed to get his head in the here and now, so he did as he pushed the corpse off of him slowly with his free and not limp arm. He then dug the dagger from the dead bandit’s eye, standing slowly and taking ahold of the strands of his Djed once more for the work ahead.

[Joris Mevelk]

The tall Mage Knight noticed that a distance away the rest of his wing was attempting to fend off the attack, but the initial attack had scattered them despite the Sergeant’s best efforts. His dark eyes fixed upon the comrade nearest to him, an armored woman that was being pulled off of her horse by two of the brigands. The man noted that she was out of range for his Projection at the moment, so he trotted forward and dragged his Projected arm along with him as its physical vessel swayed uselessly at his side. He handed the ethereal hand his dagger and focused upon the scene before him, his armored feet planted and for the first time he felt some semblance of control. His face was a mask of concentration, his projected arm wielding the dagger being launched forward from behind the nearest bandit. They had gotten the Knight off the horse between the two of them and just as one was about to stab her they were rewarded with a dagger in the side of their neck. His comrade looked in surprise at the whole thing and the Sera managed to use his distraction to kick his shin hard and stab him in the belly. He cried out in pain, falling to his knees as he clutched at the wound. The Knight pulled her sword out of him and then simply brought it in a downward chop, decapitating him and sending his head rolling away. Joris trotted up to her, his breathing heavy and his arm still hanging limply oddly which gained a look from his fellow. He was currently struggling to keep control of his projection but it was being strained due to the commotion and the endless distractions around. This was not the ideal casting scenario for a wizard sadly enough, though it was rare indeed when one was presented with an ideal scenario. He looked dreadful as he was covered in blood that was not his own, his body sore and his focus mostly upon keeping his Djed flowing into his projected limb. “Thanks, Ser, but we need to get to the sergeant. Where is Ser Henry?” She said, her voice distorted a bit through the helmet she was putting back in place. “Dead, killed with the first arrow volley. Help me up to your horse, Sera. Mine seems to have run up ahead. You handle the riding and I’ll bring the magic.” The Mage Knight said, earning a curt nod from the woman as she mounted her horse and offered her hand to Joris. The tall man grasped her gauntleted hand in his own as they awkwardly pulled him up to mount up behind him, his other arm still hanging limply. The Mage Knight wrapped his good arm around her waist and sent signals along to his Astral, his projected hand coming up beside him with the dagger dancing in the air. The Sera did not spare it a second glance, whatever power he used had helped save her neck so it was obviously on their side. The Mage Knight, confident his grip was good on the Sera’s waist was not given much longer to adjust as the horse galloped into motion ahead. Riding with someone else at the helm made this actually a bit easier, he could focus more upon his own magic and with keeping the projected hand next to his. He fed the Projected limb a constant stream of Djed, casting euphoria settling over his mind nicely as he did. At this stage though it was helping to keep him prepared and from having his mind in a thousand places at once. Instead it was right where it should have been, upon the casting and the path up ahead.

[Joris Mevelk]

The Sergeant and their other fellow wingmate were currently beset by three more of the brigands by the time the Sera and Joris managed to close. Three other corpses lay nearby, the brigands losing hefty numbers but were tiring out the Sergeant and the other Knight. Fortunately their arrival would hopefully tip the scale of this little battle, some fresh reinforcement were probably just what the doctor ordered. Well, as fresh as one could be after both faced their deaths right in the eyes. “Bring us up closer, but keep a little distance.” Joris said. “What? Why?” She demanded. “I can pick a couple off at longer range, but not with you riding so fast. I need to focus and concentrate for it to work properly.” The Mage Knight explained hurriedly, earning a curt nod. They stop a few meters away which was plenty of space for Joris to work his Projection fortunately, the halting of motion allowing him to focus the full brunt of his attention upon the bandits and his Projection. The tall dark haired man seized the strands of his Djed again, plucking at the very tapestry of his being as he willed the dagger wielding projected limb forward. The Mage Knight spotted one with his back turned to him, currently clashing blades with the Sergeant Knight of their wing. It might have seemed crass to attack an opponent from behind, but in this case Joris felt he was well justified. The man jerked slightly as the dagger embedded itself in the small of his back, swiftly cut down by the Sergeant who quickly moved to aid the other Knight. The remaining bandits fell under their more experienced blades and then the field was theirs this day. Joris let out a heavy sigh, echoed by the woman in front of her as the Sergeant quickly rode up to the pair. The Mage Knight could hardly believe they had actually pulled through that ambush, though it had not been without cost sadly enough. “Ser, Sera, injuries?” The Sergeant asked. “A little shaken, Sergeant, but otherwise fine. Ser Joris fell from his horse I believe but doesn’t seem overly harmed. Ser Henry is dead though, Ser.” The Sera answered, her breath heavy. The Sergeant cursed softly, giving both another once over to ensure they were fine before looking off ahead. Joris could see a little ways away a horse near the tree line, his most likely as far as the Mage Knight knew so he would not have to ride passenger the whole way back to Syliras. The tall dark haired man ran his free hand over his face, coming away slick with crimson fluids that were rapidly cooling. He felt petching awful but he did not vocalize that, simply allowing himself to marvel at the fact he still drew breath. “Right, your horse looks to be over there Ser Joris. Make sure to tie him off near the rest of ours. We have work to do here yet; we’ll pile the bandits up and burn them. Ser Henry will be recovered as well and taken with us back to Syliras. I’ll need to make a report of this to the Stewart once we return.” The Sergeant said, nodding to both as he trotted off.

[Joris Mevelk]

Joris nodded in thanks to the Sera as she helped him down off of her horse, sighing again as he plucked at the strands of his Astral once more. The projected limb felt tired, leaden and rather weak all things considered so it was a perfect echo for himself. The expending of his Djed was saddling him with a splitting headache as the Astral arm was brought back closer towards his body, sweat mixing heavily with the blood on his face. Combat was a messy thing, especially combat like this where they had been caught off their guard. The Projected limb slowly returned into his physical one hanging limply at his side, starting the process of raveling it back up into his body. It started in the extremities of course to make the process safer, despite the exhaustion screaming at him to make his faster. He knew that even now, if he was hasty with his Attachment then he would no doubt regret it much further down the line. The dark haired man could feel some feeling returning to his arm as he focused upon the process of attachment, his Djed spent on the procedure. When the last joint was locked into place and the limb was fully back in his Physical body Joris flexed and curled his fingers of that hand. Synchronization returned to his previously dormant limb, which drew a sigh from his as he rotated his wrist. The headache was even worse without the casting euphoria to mask it heavily, drawing a curse from the man as he rubbed his temples. Today could not get any worse, not after what had just happened in the span of the last quarter bell. The man slowly wobbled his way to his horse on legs of jelly, gripping the reins and leading the creature to a low branch where he tied it off. The man wanted nothing more than to slump over and just be dead weight, but he refused the urge to just do that as he comrades were about to get at their grizzly work. Joris knew that he needed to do something anyway, something that would in no way ease the amount of guilt and remorse washing over his mind in a wave. However he needed to do it, to say what he needed to say. He started back down the road, gathering up his dagger as he did and then it was not a long bit of walking before he found him. Henry’s corpse was right where it had fallen, the man’s wide eyes staring upwards at the sky forever unblinking. It was just bad luck he had not chosen to wear a helmet that day, it proved to be his undoing though Joris knew it was partially his fault. One Henry was worth ten of him and a hundred of these brigand bastard, the arrow would have hit him instead of Henry if he hadn’t been such a poor rider. Joris knelt down next to the man’s corpse, closing the dead Knight’s eyes and bowing his head as he started speaking. It was rare to find the Mage Knight as a somber man or in a somber mood, but with all of this guilt wracking him and with the battle finished his levity had fled his mind at the moment. The dark haired man was no battled hardened veteran of a hundred battles; he was fresh to the ways of battle and losing comrades. As such it hurt all the more. “Lord Sylir, accept this soul that perished defending and upholding your Peace and Civilization into your arms. Welcome him as a lost son into your embrace. Soothe his passing with those he leaves behind, with the knowledge that they will one day join him.” The man muttered. “I promise you, Henry. I’ll be stronger; I will make myself stronger that next time no one else need share your fate in my company. That’s a promise and an oath.” The man said, rising slowly with his task done to move to help his comrades that lived.

[Radiant]

Joris :

Experience

Skill	XP Earned
Observation	+3 XP
Socialization	+1 XP
Rhetoric	+2 XP
Riding: Horse	+3 XP
Projection	+3 XP
Weapon: Dagger	+3 XP
Endurance	+1 XP
Tactics	+2 XP
Leadership	+2 XP

Lores

Lore Earned

Knightly Duty: Patrolling And Safeguarding In And Around Syliras

Location: Kabrin Road

Location: Bronze Woods

Prayer: Mourning The Dead To Sylir

Loots

+7 Shield Points

-1 Glyphed Projection Scroll

Notes :

Dang... what an intense thread with a touching finish. Poor Henry...

Enjoy your grades!

My radiance is not bright enough?

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