eachdraidh | Video; OTA - Scrying Stone

A MEMORY

The scene played out somewhat hastily. There had been an old man in a hood and robe, chiding the viewer for mucking around in a graveyard in the middle of a foggy summer morning, when it would have been better to have just gone home and had breakfast.

The knight replied, steadfast, claiming that his involvement in the graveyard had solely been to put the local village at ease--that he was simply trying to check if there were rustled spirits who needed to have their gravestones fixed in order to properly return to heaven. The old man chided him further as he fixed the gravestones until he reached one that had been perfectly intact, but knocked over into an empty space.

The old man warned him, saying it was dangerous to touch it. The knight, acknowledging this replied that it would be safer if a knight were the one to fix it and not a well-meaning child who might suffer the consequences, instead. The old man huffed and turned to leave, but stopped in his tracks as the ground burst. The gravestone was a trigger which summoned the rage of a dragon sleeping beneath the ground. The Earth split beneath their feet and from it came that fiery dragon, towering like a mountain as it spewed flames upon the two.

The knight, with abnormal haste, had shielded himself and the old man with a tall, pristine shield he had carried on his back. The dragon, scoffing and uttering curses at the two, hazed the forest around them, turning it into a wasteland of ash under a minute.

The knight ran on foot, chasing the dragon until he realized he would be outrunned. Whistling for his horse, the knight pursued by means of his steed, which tore through the forest, seemingly unaffected by underbrush, tree roots and uneven ground. Above all, it was a horse that was meant to match his ambition. Coming close to the local village, the knight called for a lance, which was tossed to him as he rode by. The villagers, he saw, wore faces of horror as they had seen the dragon pass in the air.

Catching up by the horse's abnormal pace, the knight hurled the lance he had been given with a ferocious gale that put a hole in one of the dragon's massive, scaled wings. The creature fell to the Earth, howling in pain as the knight jumped off of his horse and drew his sword.

There, the knight made his stand. He couldn't rest even for a moment, or else the dragon would recover, rise into the air and take off to kill innocent people. He muttered this over and over to himself, "I cannot falter, I cannot relax, I cannot even breathe or blink. Not until my King is safe, my Queen is safe, their people are safe--"

The dragon and the knight exchanged blows over and over and over. The dragon's claws uprooted the Earth with horrendous swings, its tail battered trees and sent them airborne and its teeth nearly split the knight each time he came close to slowing. In the end, both the dragon and the knight were littered with wounds, each tested to their endurance. The dragon, readying its breath one more time, breathed in so it could erase the troublesome knight from its sight. It gave the knight the opening he needed.

Despite his exhaustion, the knight rushed and closed the gap between himself and the dragon as it drew its breath. With an exquisite swing, he split the massive dragon's breast open with his holy sword, his shield raised to protect him from the fiery blood that gushed from its massive wound. As the dragon collapsed onto its side, the knight stumbled, the adrenaline coursing through him still keeping his heart beating hard. Pain began to gather in his limbs and his wounds despite that and he raised his sword over his head, ready to finish the dragon by cutting its throat. The fact that he was still standing, himself, was an inhuman feat.

"You inhuman monster," The dragon beckoned to the knight, asking him one question as the life in his eyes had begun to wane. "Creatures like you shouldn't exist--not only do you reek of the fairies, but you've killed a true phantasm. What name does my death possess, human?"

"Lancelot of the Lake," The knight replied somberly, his sword gripped tight. Despite the fact that he felt as if he would die soon, he still felt he could end the dragon's life with one more swing. "However, I was never a human in the first place. I'm nothing more than a knight."

His sword came down in his next breath and before the dragon was slain for good, the memory ended then and there.

(OOC: This is just a memory of Berserker's--him fighting the red dragon that he accidentally unleashed from a cursed graveyard. In case anyone's familiar with this legend, this is right before his weird thing with Elaine.)

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(OOC: since they're both in the war camp, would you mind if we do action?? 8D )

(OOC: if you must aka please do 8D)

[ Celegorm lingered not log after the memory, the image burned behind his eyelids. He roused himself from his camp and pulled his cloak on over his simple dress, seeking out the Beast who has, over the course of a short while, become very familiar.

He crouches outside of Lancelot's tent, by the banked fire. The red of it makes his hair, bound into a simple plait for sleeping, gleam like molten gold. ]

Are you yet wakeful, friend?

[ is voice is very small. ]

I am. [In truth, Berserker didn't do much sleeping at all. He would rest and let his mind wander and in turn, he would remember. Heroic Spirits couldn't dream anymore, after all. Growth wasn't an option for them. Rather, he just went into a sort of half-awake stasis, conserving his energy rather than needing to replenish it.

Lancelot had been seated with his legs crossed on his propped up on his cot.]

Is there need of me, my lord?

There is always need of you.

[ Celegorm's pale fingertips slip cleverly through the strings which keep the tent's wide flap closed; he barely seems to even touch them but they come undone for him. And he slips neatly inside, quiet as a cat, pale as the moon once the red light of the coals is blocked by the fabric of the tent wall. And thin-seeming, under just a woolen cloak and without armour to add bulk to his frame, foxy-featured enough that without other hallmarks of masculinity to lend to his cause he seems feminine instead.

The laces of the tent twine together as easily as the knot had slipped; and he speaks only as he moves forward. ]

But I've come only in need of your company. One beast to another.

You... didn't return the star.

Hm. [Lancelot inclined his head, reaching beneath the confines of his patchwork tunic to remove the head of the stone he had held onto. The star he plucked out of the air. He remembered when he took it and when he had thought to return them to the kingdom. His options weighed, Lancelot didn't regret his decision.]

I had other matters to attend. I cast no value on this trinket and beyond that, I do not mind if the court finds my decision unfavorable.

[He considered it, staring at Celegorm a moment before averting his eyes.]

My task was more important.

[ Celegorm moved forward; folded his long legs elegantly, sitting upon the floor before the knight, looking up at him. It's clear he's perplexed by this decision, and seems to weigh it before coming to his decision. His attention is just as pointed on the other man; utter. ]

One must do as he determines right for himself in the moment. Mine, I gave. Stars don't belong in these hands.

But, what task was set upon you that drew you with such urgency as that...?

[For the moment, there was a trace of a smile on the gloomy knight's face. It was something earned by the dryads. He couldn't even help it as it came, remembering something utterly abnormal that had happened to him.]

As task I've never been put to, before. The Dryads of La Llorona had entrusted to me the task of planting a new Fairy Glen for them.

During my patrols, I've been keeping tabs on it.

[Suffice to say, he'd been running around the country-side, killing bandits and the like who had tried to pilfer the growing soil and plants coming from it.]

[ Celegorm hears 'La Llorona' and he thinks, us. Our. Dryad or other creature, if they hailed from any part of Dorchadas, to him they were Unseelie. ]

The dryads have offered great aide to many who met them there; it should be left to more than one soul to see to their needs, however strange. Think you a proper guard should be put to it?

...Yes, actually. I had considered the weight of my endeavors. As my knightly vow demands my death on the battlefield, I cannot possibly protect the glens and appease the notion of justice.

[On that front, he was the same as an old man trying to make certain his family was taken care of before his inevitable death--only, he was inciting both problems.]

I was hoping I would earn some sort of wage substantial enough to inspire guards to protect those lands; however, it would have to be filtered, somehow, to make certain they didn't simply collect and then tarnish the lands.

[ Celegorm smiled, looping his arms 'round his legs loosely. ]

You're a fellow Unseelie, Beast; not any other low soldier. Surely you know that such a thing could be arranged on your behalf for no more than the asking?

It would be a significant benefit, I suppose. [He hadn't even thought of the invisible gem that supposedly made him all the more important. How odd, he thought. Maybe he could pry it free and offer it to the courts before he died. He wasn't sure how to do it, though.]

Though, most men wouldn't settle to such a pledge without grand recompense.

[ Celegorm nodded. ]

Through my work under the auspices of the King and the Queen, I have come into a notable estate, which is managed by my servants yet in Mair. It would be my honour to see to this affair on your behalf, in return for your company in this venture.

[ Meaning the battle to which they marched. ]

[Lancelot looked curious--or, as curious as a man with a rock slab for a face could possibly look curious.]

I would aim to do anything but disappoint, my lord, but it would be remiss of me if I were to earn my goal of an honorable death before returning such a favor.

[ Celegorm offered his bare hand, as if he meant to seal the agreement. ]

We are Unseelie. Your aide here in this battle, restoring honour to the name of my house, to allow me at long last to fulfill my oath to my father, is the greatest gift any man or woman could give me.

[In return, Lancelot shook Celegorm's hand tightly, bowing his head in acceptance.]

Then, I'll bring honor to such an agreement. In my life, my sins were as a man, but as a warrior on the field of battle, I know no shame.

Both you and Lord Ganondorf have given me a proper battlefield. May I ever be in your debt as well.

Video; OTA - Scrying Stone

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