The endless road; how heroes are made.

[scarypuppy]

Throughout history, great heros and heroines have arose and lead nations, armies and even gods to victory. But before this massive event, someone took intrest in them, and sought to track their steady ascention to legend. This is where the Chronicles Ink. company comes in. Employing numerous soldiers, preists and scavengers, the company hopes to write, in excruciating detail, the events and times of the greatest heros. Problem is, not everyone who picks up a sword and beats their chest is a hero. So, a constantly updated catalouge of "Heroic types" as they are called, are kept within the stores of the Vatican, to separate those who die, those who live, and those who just fade away. This is where the story picks up. Father Dennis Markin has been tasked with choosing his life-long chronicle, and so far he hasent found a subject to his liking. Already assigned a guard and supplier, his journey will itself be treacherous, but, in the name of a steady pay flow and odd dedication, he is ready to undertake it.
Fantasy has always been attributed as flawless and elagant, well, sadly for you, fantasy does stumble. Unicorns arent endangered, in fact they're considered a nuisance in most of Europe. Giants spend days walking through villages, greeting everyone, only to come back the next day and destroy it in a drunken rage. Knights crush their horses under their over-decorated and glorious armor. Yes, imagination does flourish, only everyone has a shot at it.
Hopes and dreams and numerous creams, a chronicler doesnt have much to say in his fate.
How about you?
Post Merge: January 15, 2009, 01:55:02 AM"So Dennis, you finally decided  to take up an honorable profession I see?" Dennis looked out the sunlit window of the monastary's main occupational office, his disinterested nod agitating the Cardinal. "I believe when someone in my position asks you a question, you are inclined to answer verbally, I know you, that 'vow of silence' trick doesnt work when you tell someone." Dennis stood from his seat and moved to before the Cardinal, bowing in respect, "My apologies your grace, I was lost in a few jumbled thoughts." The Cardinal calmed and sorted through the numerous parchments assorted on his neat desk, "Well, you just applied two months ago, sorry it took so long for your application to get through, our air mail isnt very reliable." At that, a giant crow cawed from atop some distant spire of the monastary, shaking the whole building to its foundation. "The problem is their handlers either fall to their deaths, become food for the young'ns or quit outright." Dennis smoothed back his short black hair and put his hands in the comfortable sleeves of his cloak, "Your grace, when do I choose my hero?"
"Oh Right away, please, just follow the directions along the hallways and you should be there in no time." Dennis bowed and headed out the door, shaking himself off as he exited. The armored guards at the door looked at eachother, their rusted armor a dead give away, "You know you guys arent supposed to move from your spot right?" The suits straightened up and stiffened, the right arm of the bigger guard falling off, the pair looking at it quickly before ignoring it. "Damn empty cans."
The long, empty halls of the newer addition to the Vatican's mountain archives was confusing enough to navigate, not to mention the hastily scrawled directions in italian and latin, "Damn Goth may have well built this place." Finally he found himself before the massive doors of the Holy Archives, and to his supprise, it was guarded by several living guards, their lances and broadswoards being brought to bear against him.
"Declare thyself!"
Dennis cleared his throat and bowed forward on one knee, "I am Father Markin, a new applicant to the Chronicles Ink. company."
The guards all relaxed and became instantly casual, "oh, right, head on in, sorry for that, we just need to keep up appearances."
"Oh I understand completely, beautiful armor by the way."
The knight examined himself and nodded, giving and armored thumbs up, "Why thank you Father, I try." Dennis blessed them and entered, rolling his eyes as he heard them all murmmer about eachother's armor before the door closed, "Gaggle of chatty geese."
Dennis rubbed harshly at his temples as he tried to gain a moment of rest. The Archives were full of heroes and heroins who were ripe for adventure and worthy of a story to be told, but they all lacked something Dennis wanted in a hero, reality. All of them were over inflated suits of armor who would sooner bash down a centuries old door instead of figuring out exactly how to open the thing without damaging the integrity of the whole room. Dennis thought he came close twice, but in both cases they had been burned by ignorant villagers in the Brittania for suspicion of witchcraft, an unfortunate side effect of knowing common sanctioned spells. He crumbled up several sample sheets of test writng he had done on several heroes and pounded his forehead once on the table, growling, "If not alive and stupid, theyre brilliant and deceased.....wonderful world." Dennis sighed and picked up yet another tome, removing the etchings and declarations of this new profile. Something caught his eye immediately; this young man was the son of a vagabond musician and a disgraced heiress, this paticular maiden a former member of the very well educated Lefetier family of southern France. He took intrest and read on, discovering his flair for artistry, repair, writing, reading and not supprisingly singing. This boy was imaginative and creative, making makeshift shelters for his wandering family and in many cases creating means of defence from the roving bands of unwanteds and bandits. "And here I thoght the gene pool was drained." Dennis tucked the files under his arm and strolled out of the archives, shielding his eyes from the brilliant light of the next day's sun. Dennis had found his hero, now he just needed to find out who his team was.

[scarypuppy]

The uncomfortably warm weather outside was a minor annoyance for Dennis as he walked softly into the Barracks. Several hundred soldiers, all primed and ready for combat, and all young and headstrong. While he admired valor he prefered survivability, so he decided to do a small test.
"Attention!" The meandering troops and sleeping recruits all popped up from their places and stood rigid while Dennis clapped. "Orderly, quick to command, good good." He walked around and examined many of the soldiers, tall and blond, short and mixed, sturdy and scarred, plump and unscathed. He licked the front of his teeth and clapped, addressing all, "Allright, I am Father Dennis Markin of Spain, and I am now a chronicler, I have been given full authority over a team of my choosing, and as you all know, only one warrior is given the honor of serving me and his Holyness.....mostly his Holyness but me as well all the same." The soldiers were unmoving, many not even making eye contact. "While I am sure all of you are of the highest quality of fighting spirit, I would like to make a few tests." Still no movement. "First, I want everyone to raise their left hand." A moment of quick awkwardness followed, but soon a majority were raising their hands. Dennis picked out the many who were either still unmoving or just plain wrong, "Everyone who has not raised their hands, or has their hands facing this wall." Dennis motioned with his right to the opposite wall, "Please go outside." A silent rush was made for the door and within a few moments all the faliures had left, still leaving a great deal in the room. "Alright, now, I want everyone to shout the word I am about to spell, ready?"
"Sir, yes sir!" Dennis smiled and looked through a small leaflette he had been carrying with himself.
"O M N I P O T E N C E" The room was soon filled with the whispers of those trying to spell it out loud to themselves. Soon a few shouted out the correct word, with a few pronounciation errors, but correct none the less. "Those of you who diddnt speak may now leave." The same process took place leaving only a few dozen now. "Such great learning stock." He motioned for them all to gather and stood before them. "Whoever answers this riddle will be my personal guard." The soldiers' chests all puffed out, readying themselves. "I am a greaat harvester, yet I have no fields to tend, I am expected of everyone, but a surprise for most, I am merciful yet brutal, poetic yet unnatural, What am I?" Without a moment's hesitation, one soldier near the back shouted, "Death...Father." Dennis let out a laugh and waved the rest out, all of them shoving the lone soldier with their shoulders. "Congratulations son, you are now a warrior scribe." The soldier flashed a set of clean white teeth and seemed to relax, scratching his thick black hair, "Thank you Father, I ...well I'm just honored." Dennis nodded and scrawled something onto parchment, "What is your name son?"
"Armond Qleumont"
"Ah, a Frenchman?"
"My Father....Father."
"Please, please, call me Dennis, I do despise formalities."
"Alright, Dennis."
"There we go, now, get your equipment and go to the front gate of the monastary, tell them you are my warrior and that you wish to bathe, eat and rest before we embark for tomorrow, ready your weapons and armor young sir."
"Yes, Dennis."
Dennis sat alone on a bench outside the blacksmith's hut and ate a ripe red apple, watching a young, soot covered girl approach. "Ah, Father, How may I help you?"
Dennis cleaned the bits of apple out of his teeth with his tongue and stood, polishing an unbitten portion of the fruit with his robe and taking another bite, "Your my scavenger, come."
The young girl became confused, "Excuse me?"
"Ive seen you sneak out of the monastary with bits of food and wares, I wont report you, but I like your abilities, come."
"What of my father .... Father."
"Lotta that, look, My name is DENNIS, call me that."
"Either way, what of my Father?"
"Ive informed him, dont worry, he just wants to speak with you."
"what...what if I dont want to go?"
"I wont report you if thats what your implying."
"what will I recieve?"
Dennis sighed and put the apple in one of his deep inner pockets, coming up to the young girl and placing a hand on his shoulder, "You will live a life of wandering, a life in which you have no home, your only family will be me and our guardian, we'll face harsh weather and rely on the charity of strangers or the deftness of your skills, we will face danger, death and peril, and you'll get paid for it."
"Alot?"
"Whats it with younger kids, I offer a job and they wonder how much, its enough to raise a small home whenever we are no longer needed."
"Well I live in a small home already."
"I have no time for this, look kid, either you want to go, or you dont, when you make up your mind, come to the monastary, get a bath, eat and suit up, I leave tomorrow."
She brightened up, "Bathe?"
Dennis grinned and nodded, "Yes, with the finest gels, lotions and soaps Europe can manage."
"Sounds great....ahmm....I think I'll take you up on the offer."
"Great, oh, be wary of the Norweigan Danske Soap.....its a black brick, nasty stuff, you smell like rotting fish for weeks."
"Right...I will."
"See you round, Phantom."
Dennis walked back towards the monastary and thought over the girl's name, "Phantom.....gonna need a nick name.....oh well, time will show."

[scarypuppy]

Dennis kicked a small ball made of a goat's bladder with some children just ouside the gate of the holy grounds, laughing as they scrambled about in their play.  He was dressed in casual clothing, a plain grey uniform for the Chronicles Ink. members that was adorned with the Vatican's symbol.  Armond arrived first and was exausted already, his armor newly forged and his blade strengthened, a heavy load for a new warrior. Dennis examined him and moved forward, unbuckling straps and undoing knots, "This will never do, you cant protect me and young Phantom if you cant even take a few steps without dying of exhaustion."
"But Fath...Dennis, my master had said that I should dress as an honorable warrior for his holyness."
"Oh trust me, his Holiness would agree with me, you cant be wearing this much armor, hell the knights templar dont wear this much."
"The Knights who?"
"Oh..ah...church thing, dont worry, who knows, we might meet them along the way."
Armond stood still as Dennis worked about his armor, discarding the heavy breastplate and waist armor, as well as many minor plates that made movement difficult for the built but young man. "There, hows it feel?"
"I can move, and I dont feel like I've been stuck in a baker's oven all afternoon.
"Great great, now, check what I threw and decide what you need."
"But yuo just."
"I got carried away, go on, just make sure you can still move and breathe son."
Armond shook his head and went to the pile of metal that was sliding down a minor embankment. Dennis looked to the sun and mumbled to himself, shaking his head, "Late late, oh well, maybe she changed her mind."
"Oh I diddnt, I just snagged more food before I left." Dennis turned, startled, to see a clean and crisp Miss Phantom standing behind him, a pack strapped to her thin frame and an armfull of bread and meat cluched to her chest.
"You know you wont be able to carry that without it spoiling."
"I'll manage." Armond called out from the ditch, tripping over his breastplate as he tired to tug a shin-guard back on, "That and theres wolves all about this land, you'll be an appitizing entre for 'em" Phantom looked to him in worry and then back to Dennis who was wearing a contemplative look on his face, "I wonder if I could get another scavenger in Madrid?" Phantom pouted and chucked the food aside, crossing her arms in frustration, "Fine, can we just go now?" Armond returned, breathing heavily and rolled his shoulders, re-adjusting to the new mobility as well as his lightened pack, "I'm set Dennis."
"What kind of name is that anyways?" Phantom looked to an already annoyed Dennis.
"Its my name, besides your named after an apparition, so I wouldnt be talking."
Phantom stuck her tongue out and began walking forward, leaving them behind. Armond looked to Dennis then to Phantom, then back to Dennis, "Ah, Sir, isnt she following US?"
"Give it a second, we know that and soon she will as well." With that, Phantom came to a stop in the road and turned back, looking off to the side and denying Dennis eye-contact, "well....where are we going then?" Dennis clapped his hands and removed a map from his own pack, going about it with his trained eyes.
Armond looked at the map and commented, "I dont know Spanish."
"Your not the one leading are you?"
"Well....no....but I'd like to be informed, Dennis." Dennis laughed and tucked the map back into his back, walking forward with his hands in his pockets, "We're headed for a trading market just a few miles away, we should be able to find passage into France from there."
"France, the Hero's a Frenchman?"
"Yes, much like yourself, or....half of you, either way yes, to France."
"Wonderful, I've always wanted to see the French Countryside."
"Most of the damn place is countryside." Dennis licked his teeth and continued on, Armond now making considerably less noise with his cumbersome armor now with a tactique. Phantom spat onto the road and grumbled to herself about some detail of the Father's physique.
"I'll have you know my figure is not feminin, its...lean." Phantom blushed and pulled her high-necked over wear just a bit higher to hide her cheeks. Armond pointed and laughed like a small boy at play, "He got you Phannie!"
"Whatd you call me?"
"Phannie....like....short for Phanom....."
Dennis looked over his shoulder, "Now children, no need to fight over that, there'll be plenty to butt heads with along the way." Phantom gave a death glare at the shy Armond, who retreated into his previous oblivious state, and barked at Dennis, "How would you know, its not like you've done this before?"
Dennis spoke solemnly, without turning to them, "Yes, but a dear friend of mine perished in one of the Muslim nations, chronicling another hero while his group tried to stave off the hords."
Phantom quieted and looked to the ground, cursing herself for the disrespect she had just shown. Armond noticed the Tension and spoke up, "I know, how about a merry tune, ahmmm....."
"Go on Armond."
"I know, the Maiden's Joy?"
Phantom shrugged, "Dont know that one." Dennis chimed in, "Me either."
Armond rubbed at his chin and brightened, "The sorcerer's anthem?"
"Nope."
"The dragon's thumb?"
"Nah-uh"
"What about Greensleeves?"
Dennis held his nose, "I hate that song."
Phantom laughed and pointed her own finger mockingly at Armond, "Dennis got you Armond."
Armond lifted his chin indignantly, marching ahead to be at Dennis' side. Phantom shotued to them, "Hey dont be mad at me, your the one who started this!"
Dennis pulled a berry from a pouch on his hip and threw it at Phantom, then beckoning her to hurry, "And I'm ending it, now hurry before we leave you to the imps and faeries." Phantom became spooked and ran to Armond's side, unconciously grabbing his armored arm. Armond blushed and shook his head to hide his face with his hair, Phantom realising what was happening and releasing his arm, moving to Dennis' side.
The sun had just risen a few hours ago and now shewed brightly over the nearby peaks, flooding the trail with vibrant orange light. The group walked on, continuing their petty arguements and casuals. Dennis hummed to drown out the pair as they debated over the need for Latin in all writing. He was unsuccessful.

[Dr. Strange]

babbling and bickering. Sounds like my family. ^_> keep it up. ^^

[scarypuppy]

Update Tomorrow

[scarypuppy]

Armond poked at a cage of colorful birds that a vendor told him were from the farthest reaches of the oriental markets. One with a bright yellow frill of feathers behind its smalll head cawed continually at him and stared at him with one unblinking eye. "This bird isnt enchanted, its sick, the other eye's just gone!" Dennis grabbed Armond by the arm and tugged him along, trying to escape the other vendor's wrath while he still could.
"For the last time, dont touch anything!"
"Phannie's been touching stuff all day!"
"She has.....where is she?" Armond shrugged and looked with Dennis through the massive crowds of travellers and merchants that was choking the narrow prominade cutting through this edge of the city they had stopped at. Armond pointed with one gloved hand at a paranoid looking Phantom, walking towards them with her hands tucked into her coat. Dennis politely made his way through the crowd while Armond tried not to harm people with his pointed armored plating, finally giving up and standing in place while he waited for the others to come back to him. Dennis grabbed Phantom by the largest strap on her pack and nearly brought her down. "The hell Dennis?"
Dennis wrapped an arm around her shoulder and smiled, "Phantom, we need to keep a good reputation and a low profile when in a merchant town, especially  when on duties from the Vatican and his Holiness." Phantom nodded in blank agreement, "Alright, now, Knowing you, you probably have several stolen items on you, am I correct in thinking this?" Phantom stalled and tried to look away to avoid the question, dennis pulling her chin back to face him, "Phantom......give it here." Phantom looked at him for a moment of relent, but there was none, and so grudgingly she removed her hands from her pockets and deposited several gold earrings, a clump of fire coal, a bottle of what Dennis assumed was rum and several small slivers of smoked meat.
"Well, at least now I know you were perfect for my scavenger."
"Sir?"
Dennis turned and saw his reflection, an odd confusement that quickly disappeared when he realized he was facing the breastplate of an armored civil guard, his hand at his sword and his Iron mask hiding any emotion he may have been showing. Dennis laughed nervously, "Ah, yes, Officer?"
The guard turned and snapped his fingers, two other officers bringing Armond forward like an abandoned child. "We believe this armored person is in your employ?"
"Yes."
"You are aware that he has no certificate of duty or a simple parchment of allowment or entitlement on his person?"
"I am now officer." The guard looked at the items in his arms and pointed towards Phantom. "And her?"
"She is my ah....my....scavenger."
The guard stiffened immediately, almost falling forward in a hasty bow, "My apologies sir, ah, Father, then this young man is your warrior then?"
Dennis nodded, "Yes, yes he is."
The guard snapped his fingers once more and the other guards handed Armond his weapon and pack back, bowing slightly as well.
"We were not aware that Chroniclers were in our region, they all usually head to the Britannia."
"Oh no, we're bound for France, new upstart we want to keep track of."
"Then you're in need of transportation Father?"
"Ah, yes, and please call me Dennis."
"I dont wish to show any hint of disrespect for you Father, you are of the clergy."
Dennis groaned in his throat and smiled, giving Phantom the items again, "Hide them again and we'll have a talk in a minute, for now consider this a freebie from the Civility." He turned back with a broad smile to the guard, "yes, we are in need of transport, but we wouldnt want to stirr comotion in your lovely city over us, so if you could just arrange some small caravan to make room for us in one of their transports, that would be grand."
The guard stood and saluted, "Sir, it is my duty to ensure you recieve the best transportation available in my region."
"No no no, its..."
"I'll not hear of it Father, a member of the Clergy must not be alotted simplicity, at least not in this city Father."
Dennis cupped his face in his hands then moved then to his front in the prayer position, laughing, "Your dedication is admirable sir, but please..." He looked to the Guard and his subordinates, all of them standing at full attention and drawing more stares than he wanted.
Armond clutched his pack and sword to his chest slowly scooting towards Dennis, "Father...ah...Dennis, I think we should just accept the offer before they decide they should have a festival for you."
Phantom piped up, "whats wrong with that?"
Dennis turned abruptly, a menacing look on his face, "Plenty!" He turned back with his warm smile again and nodded, "Very...very well then, arrange for whatever transport you can manage, just, dont make a deal of it please, we'll be waiting at the Northern gate." The guard saluted again and motioned for the others to follow him, quickly marching off.
Armond waved to the random passerby who bowed to them or kept their eyes glued to Dennis, "Dennis....we should probably get moving before you gain a following."
Dennis nodded and backed away slowly, "You should be worried, warriors are usually the ones maidens cluster around, you should be wearing a codpeice." Armond blushed and moved his pack and weapon down to his crotch, moving close to Dennis, Phantom following suit.
Dennis pointed an accusing finger at Phantom, "You, will never, steal, EVER while on his journey....unless...Unless I give you permission...." Phantom nodded and turned tail, chasing after a frightened Armond. Dennis followed and sanctified the numerous people who outstreached their arms for his blessing, nearly fallin over a Beggar who was on his knees.
They managed to reach the North gate and be beyond incident, the people of this section not hearing of their arrival or location. Armond sat against a sturdy tree along the outgoing path while Phantom hung all their gear from the thick branches overhead. Dennis streached out fully on the lush grass surrounding the tree, closing his eyes for a quick rest before the travel.
Phantom sung from her perch in the tree, her cooing soothing Dennis' frayed nerves. The song held some familiarity, something long forgotten, but so recognizable. He forgot the thought and returned to his rest, determined to have some relaxation before the imminent bout of arguement and overall discord amongst his travelling companions. For the moment though, peace was his.

[Dr. Strange]

wow.... ~licks cheek~ more, please?

[scarypuppy]

The caravan rattled along the single lane snaking through the forrest and kept the shadows at bay with great lanterns hanging about like captured fireflies. The muslims towards the rear were singing their lullabyes to the children they had for sale and were playing the saddest songs they could muster on great bowed and stringed instruments that were made of the same alien wood that caressed every note and sent out only pure music. Armond looked out the slit in the transport cairrage to the dim outline of the grey trees looming over them, counting each one with a 'wandering eye', a single hollowed out spot in the center that was filled with the webbing of spiders. Dennis had his feet propped up on Armond's stripped armor and was using one of the oversized lanterns to take note of their needs for the next town, as well as their overall progress. Phantom sat next to the young serb atop the cairrage and held a bit of a whislting contest with him, trying to beat his swift lips to each inhuman note. Phantom brushed aside her bangs and pulled out a small sliver of meat from her pouch and chewed on the dried end of it for a bit, moistening it with her tongue. The boy snapped his fingers before her and waved, motioning to the meat. She nodded shyly and tore a half off, handing it over-eagerly to the boy.
"What are you doing here?"
"I'm....working."
"I work, you on the other hand....."
"What, just because I'm a woman you think I cant work?"
"First off your not a woman yet, and second you can work, it just doesnt seem like you know what work is."
"I'll have you know my father was a blacksmith." She held onto the meat in her mouth and spread her arms as wide as she could, speaking through her clenched teeth, "His arms and legs are thicker than your waist!"
"thats a bit of an exageration though." He lifted his hand to move hers closer together, lacing them with hers and softly squeezing them to keep her attention. Phantom hiccupped and followed the boy's direction, bringing her hands in to about a foot apart.
"A thick and meaty person, when sitting or laying down, has legs this thick, when their body relaxes and the mass comes to rest."
"This is interesting how?" she looked to him.
"It is to me..."
"You barbarians are always suprising us."
"I'm a serb, not a berserker."
"See even then your wrong, thats the Nordsmen, the Vikings."
"Either way, I'm not some savage."
"I never said you were." The boy laughed and shook his head, sitting down behind Phantom and leaning against her back to support himself, looking up to the sky and consiquently laying his head on her shoulder, "Theres nothing for me anywhere, I only joined the turks," He nodded to the two bickering old men at the front of the transport, "because the crusaders wouldnt take me in...or anyone else."
"These heathens care for you?"
He lifted his head and became stiff, "Dont call them that."
"what?"
"Heathens....they're good people."
"They arent Christians though, or even Catholics."
"Theyre good people." Phantom rubbed at her arm, realising she had struck some nerve with him, and so scooted closer and leaned her own head back.
"I'm sorry, they do seem....caring." Her and the boy both looked to the pair and saw them patting eachother on the back, lighting up a strange, snaking pipe filled with some strange tree-bark looking material.
Phantom began whistling again, hoping to break the boy's defensiveness.
"You missed part of it...."
"sorry?"
"I know that song, its a conscript's funeral song, usually its sung by a lord to honor the men who died defending him..." He cleared his throat and began to sing, a soft cooing disarming Phantom and bringing her to completely lay against the boy, her eyes closing to allow her to dream the lyrics of the tribute.
Armond peeked over the edge of the cairrage roof and hiccupped when he saw the pair, Phantom smiling with her eyes closed and the boy running his hand through her brunette hair, singing at the same slow pace that made Armond yawn from simply hearing him. He ducked back into the cairrage and bit his lip, a strange protectiveness overcoming him from seeing Phantom being fawned over by some stranger. Soon he scrambled out of the window and brought the cairrage into a dangerous lean, bringing many shouts from the Turks and Phantom herself.
Dennis rubbed at his nose slowly, letting out a deep breath before blowing into the bowl-shaped lantern, "I might just bury them tomorow....regardless of if their breathing."