(Done with the help of Beltharean)
Leonard Bennard Bennin II walked to the chapter house of the Alta Trinita, the rain pounding and clinking off his armor as he held crossbow ready for any intruders that felt the need to attack him, even as sullen as he looked. He saw the small tunnel that led into the valley of the chapter house, and lightning cracked in the distance. "As if ze setting could be vurse..." He muttered to himself, thinking on what had happened only moments earlier. Ben entered the musky tunnel, and removed his helmet, now sheltered temporarily from the heavy rain. He sighed, and continued on through the dark structure.
After barely moments of walking, he ended out into a small, grassy cut in the mountains, a small opening on one side of the mountains, and a few trees decorating the small hill in the center. At the top of the hill rested the great manor that the Alta Trinita had claimed as its chapter house. It was rather average for a manor of its size, hidden away in this Alterac setting. Ben walked to its doors and pushed them open, the heavy rain still pouring down on his toned form.
Ben entered the doorway, the manor's interior silent and a little dusty from misuse... The Trinita had found a better hideout, and he was the chapter house's keeper until they returned, or so that's how he saw it. Ben moved in, sighing deeply as he entered the main hall, the room glowing with candlelight from a large chandelier above as well as several candlesticks about the room and on the table that stood in the center. Ben went to the table and pulled out a chair, sitting in it, and tossing his helmet aside. His helmet was followed by his halberd and crossbow, the devices clanking on the floor of the manor.
Ben's thoughts sped to what had happened barely moments earlier... His encounter with the shadowy figure in Greenburge. Most of what he remembered started with his entering the ruins of the town, going for a usual patrol, searching for Tressian, the necromancer... Rumors and records had it that Tressian had once lived near the town, or even inside of it, and so Ben hoped to find him returned there. The large manor had struck Ben as the primary investigation first, and he came to the stairs at the bottom of the side-tower. He drew his halberd and proceeded up the steps, cautious as ever, ready to face anything that might spring from the shadows. Several rather bland flights of stairs began the journey, and then he reached the first solid room. It was large, and had a doorway in one of its corners, leading out into the outside - which had just now began to show rain. Ben instantly felt something twitching on his face when he saw something obscuring the moonlight - a shadowed figure and their glinting monocle.
"... Identify yourself." Ben shouted across the room, holding his halberd out in a defensive position, ready to jump to either side to avoid a projectile of any sort.
The shadowy figure seems to turn at the speaking, and folds its hands behind its back, one holding the others wrist. "I am the lord of this place. If anything, it's you that should be identifying yourself..."
Ben remained cautious, his eyes narrowing as he tried to see anything distinctive in the shadowy figure's features, but spots nothing. "Zis town has laid destroyed in zis state for years. I'll ask again. Who are you?"
"I said it once, I will say it again. This is my manor. Identify -your- self." The shadowy figure played with the words.
Ben growled lightly, his teeth clenching. "I am a Strategos of ze Alta Trinita. Zat should be sufficient for now."
"The Alta Trinita you say? Yes, I've heard they've become the epitome of dross aspects of the fervent zealot personified..." The shadowy figure repeated with words that almost seemed mildly rehearsed.
"You dare insult ze Trinita? Ve are ze true varriors of ze Light. Ze Argents are ignorant unt foolish." Ben answered, spite in his every breath.
"I would beg to differ... Your Alta Trinita has defiled all that the Light stands for... I myself am close to calling you a minor version of the Scarlet Crusade."
"Do not dare to compare ze Trinita to ze Scarlets. Ve are under ze control of no demons, our leadership is pure." Ben answered, compassion showing in his beliefs and words.
"As pure as the blood of an innocent priestess?" The shadowy figure's voice snared lightly.
"You call ze harboring of a necromancer unt ze foolishness of allowing treacherous, undead heezens into a -holy city- innocent?" Ben spoke with increased compassion.
"Whether you're ready for it or not, I'm the one that's going to educate you on how awful Light users can be... Let us use the Fallen Prince for example... Not all Paladins strike with the Light at their backs for the lengths of good. Respect is respecting others and their beliefs, tenacity is being able to put up with those beliefs. Compassion is trying to sway a person toward a better future, not tearing off their jaw, bashing in their skull, and nailing in their appendages." The shadowy figure's words seemed to have a power over Ben, but the pikeman stood resolute.
"Ve gave her a better future by killing her unt letting her be put before zee Light to be judged and denied passage into ze Light's hallowed halls." Ben said, his head now bowed, as he felt some small, hidden truth in the figure's words, but he told himself to deny them. He stared at the floor solemnly, a frown growing on his face. "Who are you... What do you want?"
The shadowy figure turned and looked out at the sky. "I want... To be accepted..." It walked out of the doorway, and then disappeared with the light flash of a teleportation.
Ben walked forward, his frown deepening as he neared the doorway, his halberd held out cautiously. He stepped out into the drizzling rain, and looked around from the high-up terrace, seeing nothing but dreary ruins. Ben looked to his right after a short while and saw more stairs. Slowly he went up the stairs, creaking as he walked up, step by step. "Is zis vut ze Light really vunts?" He thought aloud as he got into the next room, which was full of ruined furniture, but another staircase still stood at the other end of the room. Ben began to walk towards the staircase, but spotted something... A small ragdoll, covered in dust and cobwebs.
Ben leaned down and picked up the ragdoll, brushing some of the dust off, and revealing the toy's face. It bore a familiarity to his memories, but he just couldn't place it correctly. He decided to put it away in his packs, his frown ever deepening as he moved up the staircase. He looked around, now on the top of the manor's side-tower, a large terrace. Yet a small rectangular room stood on the other end of the terrace, a small staircase leading up and into it. Ben slowly walked up the staircase and into the room. This one's floor was scattered with broken furniture, and a large amount of broken artworks... But one caught his eye as relatively intact.
Ben knelt down at the intact art-piece, and blew the dust off of the picture... A family portrait was revealed, slightly molded with age, but mostly visible. In the picture he saw four people. One older woman with blonde hair, and her face was not showing much enjoyment in the current situation. Her face reminded Ben of someone... But he couldn't exactly place it. Ben then spotted another older person, a blonde haired man who appeared chubby in the portrait. He saw no features he could recognize in this man.
The older persons were not what caught his attention, however. It was the two younger ones. One was a younger version of Ben's necromancer-rival, Tressian. Black-haired, green-eyed, his hair in a bowl cut and his skin pale. The young Tressian did not look amused. Next to the young Tressian, Ben spotted a woman he recognized even in her youth. Annabelle Greene, the priestess that he had helped to kill... She was young, with dark-skin and freckles... Her eyes shined violet, and her hair was black. She seemed to be teasing the unamused Tressian in the portrait. Ben's mind clicked, and he blinked several times, removing the small ragdoll from before. He compared the doll to the picture of Anna, and his frown deepened even more. The doll bore a resemblance to the woman in her youth.
Bennin gulped lightly, but it was a resounding noise in the empty chamber. After examining the portrait one last time, Ben put the ragdoll back into his packs, and turned to leave the place, reaching the stairway and then frowning and looking back for only a moment. He then turned and continued on his journey back to the chapter house.
Bennin exited his trance at that, and looked around at the interior of the chapter house, his face still frowning heavily. "Zis is vut ze Light vunts... I svore an oas... I shall follow it..." He told himself with one last breath. He could not tell what he felt... Perhaps it was remorse, or regret? It was shut out quickly as Bennin told himself that he was loyal to the Alta Trinita, and nothing else. However, even as zealous as Ben told himself he was, he could not forget the feeling of remorse from that moment.
Leonard Bennard Bennin II walked to the chapter house of the Alta Trinita, the rain pounding and clinking off his armor as he held crossbow ready for any intruders that felt the need to attack him, even as sullen as he looked. He saw the small tunnel that led into the valley of the chapter house, and lightning cracked in the distance. "As if ze setting could be vurse..." He muttered to himself, thinking on what had happened only moments earlier. Ben entered the musky tunnel, and removed his helmet, now sheltered temporarily from the heavy rain. He sighed, and continued on through the dark structure.
After barely moments of walking, he ended out into a small, grassy cut in the mountains, a small opening on one side of the mountains, and a few trees decorating the small hill in the center. At the top of the hill rested the great manor that the Alta Trinita had claimed as its chapter house. It was rather average for a manor of its size, hidden away in this Alterac setting. Ben walked to its doors and pushed them open, the heavy rain still pouring down on his toned form.
Ben entered the doorway, the manor's interior silent and a little dusty from misuse... The Trinita had found a better hideout, and he was the chapter house's keeper until they returned, or so that's how he saw it. Ben moved in, sighing deeply as he entered the main hall, the room glowing with candlelight from a large chandelier above as well as several candlesticks about the room and on the table that stood in the center. Ben went to the table and pulled out a chair, sitting in it, and tossing his helmet aside. His helmet was followed by his halberd and crossbow, the devices clanking on the floor of the manor.
Ben's thoughts sped to what had happened barely moments earlier... His encounter with the shadowy figure in Greenburge. Most of what he remembered started with his entering the ruins of the town, going for a usual patrol, searching for Tressian, the necromancer... Rumors and records had it that Tressian had once lived near the town, or even inside of it, and so Ben hoped to find him returned there. The large manor had struck Ben as the primary investigation first, and he came to the stairs at the bottom of the side-tower. He drew his halberd and proceeded up the steps, cautious as ever, ready to face anything that might spring from the shadows. Several rather bland flights of stairs began the journey, and then he reached the first solid room. It was large, and had a doorway in one of its corners, leading out into the outside - which had just now began to show rain. Ben instantly felt something twitching on his face when he saw something obscuring the moonlight - a shadowed figure and their glinting monocle.
"... Identify yourself." Ben shouted across the room, holding his halberd out in a defensive position, ready to jump to either side to avoid a projectile of any sort.
The shadowy figure seems to turn at the speaking, and folds its hands behind its back, one holding the others wrist. "I am the lord of this place. If anything, it's you that should be identifying yourself..."
Ben remained cautious, his eyes narrowing as he tried to see anything distinctive in the shadowy figure's features, but spots nothing. "Zis town has laid destroyed in zis state for years. I'll ask again. Who are you?"
"I said it once, I will say it again. This is my manor. Identify -your- self." The shadowy figure played with the words.
Ben growled lightly, his teeth clenching. "I am a Strategos of ze Alta Trinita. Zat should be sufficient for now."
"The Alta Trinita you say? Yes, I've heard they've become the epitome of dross aspects of the fervent zealot personified..." The shadowy figure repeated with words that almost seemed mildly rehearsed.
"You dare insult ze Trinita? Ve are ze true varriors of ze Light. Ze Argents are ignorant unt foolish." Ben answered, spite in his every breath.
"I would beg to differ... Your Alta Trinita has defiled all that the Light stands for... I myself am close to calling you a minor version of the Scarlet Crusade."
"Do not dare to compare ze Trinita to ze Scarlets. Ve are under ze control of no demons, our leadership is pure." Ben answered, compassion showing in his beliefs and words.
"As pure as the blood of an innocent priestess?" The shadowy figure's voice snared lightly.
"You call ze harboring of a necromancer unt ze foolishness of allowing treacherous, undead heezens into a -holy city- innocent?" Ben spoke with increased compassion.
"Whether you're ready for it or not, I'm the one that's going to educate you on how awful Light users can be... Let us use the Fallen Prince for example... Not all Paladins strike with the Light at their backs for the lengths of good. Respect is respecting others and their beliefs, tenacity is being able to put up with those beliefs. Compassion is trying to sway a person toward a better future, not tearing off their jaw, bashing in their skull, and nailing in their appendages." The shadowy figure's words seemed to have a power over Ben, but the pikeman stood resolute.
"Ve gave her a better future by killing her unt letting her be put before zee Light to be judged and denied passage into ze Light's hallowed halls." Ben said, his head now bowed, as he felt some small, hidden truth in the figure's words, but he told himself to deny them. He stared at the floor solemnly, a frown growing on his face. "Who are you... What do you want?"
The shadowy figure turned and looked out at the sky. "I want... To be accepted..." It walked out of the doorway, and then disappeared with the light flash of a teleportation.
Ben walked forward, his frown deepening as he neared the doorway, his halberd held out cautiously. He stepped out into the drizzling rain, and looked around from the high-up terrace, seeing nothing but dreary ruins. Ben looked to his right after a short while and saw more stairs. Slowly he went up the stairs, creaking as he walked up, step by step. "Is zis vut ze Light really vunts?" He thought aloud as he got into the next room, which was full of ruined furniture, but another staircase still stood at the other end of the room. Ben began to walk towards the staircase, but spotted something... A small ragdoll, covered in dust and cobwebs.
Ben leaned down and picked up the ragdoll, brushing some of the dust off, and revealing the toy's face. It bore a familiarity to his memories, but he just couldn't place it correctly. He decided to put it away in his packs, his frown ever deepening as he moved up the staircase. He looked around, now on the top of the manor's side-tower, a large terrace. Yet a small rectangular room stood on the other end of the terrace, a small staircase leading up and into it. Ben slowly walked up the staircase and into the room. This one's floor was scattered with broken furniture, and a large amount of broken artworks... But one caught his eye as relatively intact.
Ben knelt down at the intact art-piece, and blew the dust off of the picture... A family portrait was revealed, slightly molded with age, but mostly visible. In the picture he saw four people. One older woman with blonde hair, and her face was not showing much enjoyment in the current situation. Her face reminded Ben of someone... But he couldn't exactly place it. Ben then spotted another older person, a blonde haired man who appeared chubby in the portrait. He saw no features he could recognize in this man.
The older persons were not what caught his attention, however. It was the two younger ones. One was a younger version of Ben's necromancer-rival, Tressian. Black-haired, green-eyed, his hair in a bowl cut and his skin pale. The young Tressian did not look amused. Next to the young Tressian, Ben spotted a woman he recognized even in her youth. Annabelle Greene, the priestess that he had helped to kill... She was young, with dark-skin and freckles... Her eyes shined violet, and her hair was black. She seemed to be teasing the unamused Tressian in the portrait. Ben's mind clicked, and he blinked several times, removing the small ragdoll from before. He compared the doll to the picture of Anna, and his frown deepened even more. The doll bore a resemblance to the woman in her youth.
Bennin gulped lightly, but it was a resounding noise in the empty chamber. After examining the portrait one last time, Ben put the ragdoll back into his packs, and turned to leave the place, reaching the stairway and then frowning and looking back for only a moment. He then turned and continued on his journey back to the chapter house.
Bennin exited his trance at that, and looked around at the interior of the chapter house, his face still frowning heavily. "Zis is vut ze Light vunts... I svore an oas... I shall follow it..." He told himself with one last breath. He could not tell what he felt... Perhaps it was remorse, or regret? It was shut out quickly as Bennin told himself that he was loyal to the Alta Trinita, and nothing else. However, even as zealous as Ben told himself he was, he could not forget the feeling of remorse from that moment.