Story of a Paladin

Hey, I'm one of those guys who pops by to read the story, and you wanted to know what I think, so I'll tell you what I think.

I think the story is amazing. I've liked pretty much everything, and disliked pretty much nothing.
So keep on doing what you do (because it's great)!

(I wonder how Samrux would react to the Magnet Sphere or the Water Bolt, if he discovered them...)
 
Click the @s to go to the respective chapter.


Story of a Paladin

First Awakening - "Trapped"
@ Prologue: Life and Death
@ 1. A place of mysery, and a testament
@ 2. Survival
@ 3. Opening my eyes...
@ 4. Tales of old
@ 5. The hammer
@ 6. Deterioration
@ Bridge: Memories of the Fall
​
Second Awakening - "Cursed"
@ 1. Murder
@ 2. The pass of an age
@ 3. ...to only see darkness
@ 4. Chambers to reveal
@ 5. Paintings and a spider
@ 6. My Curse
@ Bridge: Memories of this Place

​
Third Awakening - "Abandoned"
???​
 
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Someone entered again. I sensed it like the last, and this time, a skeleton wearing armor of the kingdom’s army murdered them. The visitor fell dead in a single, brutal strike from a guard’s sword. Such beasts... They continue to dishonour the name of our home and the memories of our work, by using this equipment now to kill the innocent, just as I forever dishonored the paladins by using my weapon for the same purpose once.

Some of that gear, they have been carrying since the day the Anthroprodium fell. There are, though, many sets of armor and weapons in the armory that this place contains as well. Sure, they are for the most part very worn and rusted, but those that had been stored remained isolated enough to still be identifiable today.

During my sleep; the several times in which I have not been conscious of myself for prolonged periods of time; humans had descended into this place across their entire history. I woke up for the first time in this place, and I called it my first awakening. Then came a second, in which I was forced to remain conscious for ten times the amount of the first. This is my third, and decades more of agony have already passed. In between every instance, in the surface, humans took time to expand and progress, even long after The Kingdom’s fall. The top of the tallest tower of this place, peeking the surface, has always been in their way.

The entrance, so inviting and mysterious, must have already attained infamy in humanity’s lore, as the cave which adventurers enter but never leave. Viewed as such, it truly is the gate to hell. This place’s gaping maw has eaten and had as victims countless of people through its entire history… But I have known this fact for very long, as you should too. /







Oh, death. So much death. Decades, centuries, time is meaningless; I have tried to make contact, to give the world above any sign of my presence, but they all have failed, try and try as I may. The dozens of explorers brave or stupid enough to keep returning here always die by acts of the undead, whether by those feral skeletons that try, kill and eat them with their bare bones, or those that have kept their instinctive skill in weaponry or magic to throw every lethal ability they possess to give them a quick death. I can do nothing to impede it, nothing to protect those that come inside here, and it is forever stressful.

Spinning blades of fire, floating skulls emanating dark energy, the draining of the lifeforce of a living being. These are the most terrifying moves that the corrupt wizards have performed to make this place truly hell on Earth. Devilists, necromancers, spiritists; I had never seen, or could have even, so many of them together, and so much of their power, during my previous life. If there is a physical embodiment of evil in this planet, they are the closest to it I can imagine. Only a few of my kingdom’s magicians are also here, with their pure water robes and spells to contrast those of darkness, but they are, too, demented, and use their abilities to kill. The ancient books they port are they key to healing magic as well, but the endless knowledge written there is of no use in their skeletal hands: They only let out magic bolts that pierce the flesh and cause pain.

In this place, things unholy and holy live in harmony, all as equals, in complete pandemonium. /








I am done. Eras have passed above my head, humankind has evolved and changed, civilizations risen and fallen as I sit deep underground, and still my presence has not been alerted to them. I have encountered humans, myself, face to face, as I tried to protect them from the undead, but they have seen me as a monster guardian of this dungeon, and my words they can’t understand, and their weapons have been drawn to me aim. New ways to torture my already crushed heart and soul are always found.

Whatever, kill those humans, I don’t care. Do with them whatever your rotten and lack of brains inside those shattered and hollow skulls want to do, skeletons. My attempts have been futile and in vain, and I cede to the truth that I will forever remain alone, deserted. Through this note I surrender. My own race has turned their backs on me, and I wouldn’t blame them, for fearing my appearance. When I again fall in demonic possession, I will join the moving piles of bones in their quest for unending carnage one more time, and I won’t have a chance to fight it once more. Knowing this fate, I now just wait for whatever is to come.

I have depleted an entire pencil, already illustrated every corner of my asylum, and now made a final drawing. I drew the young man that one day left his backpack for me, in his death. He lives on in my sketches.

End of note.









Visitor, why have you come?
Did you not know what you would find?
You might have heard of this place just crumbs,
but what will occur, to you I will remind:
.
Visitor, In here you will die.
Inside, your very flesh will grind.
The insane skeletons roaming this hole
might burn your skin to be black as coal.
.
Visitor, don’t set a step inside.
There is not a corner in where to hide.
For centuries I’ve struggled, despaired,
to stop the undead and their evil binds.
But to enter you have dared.
Of your corpse they will dispose.
Any hinder for them, I don’t seem to pose.


I apologize, visitor. You have now died.

Corpse.png





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Doing good... writing of course... the character on the other hand. Well... not delving but I can honestly say he is worse off than one of my own characters at this point.
 
Samrux said:
*update stuff*
Click to expand...
That took WAY too long for me to be up to date. You really do have a lot to read here, Samrux. :p

I really enjoyed the Muramasa chapter (for obvious reasons ;)), but the speculation on the Masamune got me very interested indeed. Just the thought of the counterpart to the Muramasa existing in the Terraria universe makes for some thought-provoking stuff.

Like the deal behind the broken heros' swords, and whether they could be related to the Masamune.

tl;dr
Moar! I need moar awesome! :D
 
I'm now announcing:

There is no schedule anymore. I will keep writing, but the days in which the pages are released will no longer be regular. Once the fourth awakening begins, and that is once I finish and publish the two following pages, I will very possibly start posting pages more often again. But that could be in a couple days, or a week. So I apologize. I want to write, but only if I will enjoy it - and letely, I've been busy and tired.

I take a little pride in knowing that, for 5 weeks straight, I had been writing an entire 320+ words per day. It's been fun, guys - I thank you all so much for sharing this experience with me!
 
Heh. What a time to stop alerts.

This is really awesome at the moment. I'm actually surprised how long you've been able to keep up at a page a week. Its going really great. Good ruddy job.
 
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