| Author | Message | ||
     Maj Prescot |
Prescot looked around for a moment at his surroundings. There was a great field in front of him with a series of villages dotting the landscape. To his right was a good-sized river, and to his left was a castle the likes of which he had never seen. He was broken out of his reverie as a gruff man's voice spoke up behind him. "Welcome warrior!" he said as Prescot spun around and faced the man uneasily. "I know I know... This isn’t what you last remembered," the man said as Prescot finally got his first good look at the man. He was about 10 centimeters shorter than Jake was and wore chain mail and traditional Camelyian leather. "Who are you.." Jake finally managed after he sized the man up for a few moments. He had already relaxed his hand after discovering that his false matter blade was not on him "Tis a humble messenger and guide milord," the man said and bowed to Prescot and motioned at the road in front of them. "Come... Thou hath much to see and understand." Jake looked at him briefly as the man took off down the stone road. After another few moments of contemplation Prescot found himself catching up to the man and walking along side of him. "I’m dead aren’t I," he asked in a neutral tone. "Aye milord. Thou fell defending that `twas right. `Tis why thou art here instead of cast into the pit," the man replied as the two of them began to approach a small village. "Thou shall live a warrior's life as twas ment to be." "What exactly does that mean," Prescot asked. "I get killed everyday and resurrected the next?" he asked dryly. "Zounds no! Quite often a horde of beasts will attempt to sack this castle, and it is your sworn duty along with the others like milord who have died recently and in times past. After each long siege thine wounds will be healed and a victory feast will be prepared. If milord dies again then he will be judged. If his actions here are honorable, milord will be allowed to stay. If milord’s actions are nae honorable, milord will be cast to the pit." While this 'pit' didn’t sound too pleasant, Prescot liked the rest of it. "Where will I be staying then," he asked as the two of them came up to the castle and entered via a massive drawbridge. The inside designs of the castles were almost like home, expect these were much dirtier and there was no hum of generators always at ones ear. "This way milord," the man said and moved up a flight of winding stairs. The castle itself was made out of stone, beautifully cut and laid down in a most exquisite manner. The walls were ordained with several battle flags of various houses. Some that he recognized from parades or speaking with members of the house, others were from history lessons of great houses in Camelyian history. Eventually the man stopped under the banner of the House of Prescot. A good-sized door stood to his left. "Rest well milord. We have nae knowledge of whenst the next great battle will be fought. All of thine needs will be attended to here," the man said and stepped back. As if on cue a woman that Jake knew passed almost silently between him and the man. She wore what could only be considered see-through, the woman paused just a moment to give Jake a wink before opening the door and entering into his chambers. "As I’m sure you can see. I will leave you alone now milord," the man said and silently moved away. It was all that Jake did to keep his mouth from dropping down. Clearly there was something to this idea of the afterlife. As if on cue as he too his first step towards the cracked door to his new chambers, a swirl of blue light enveloped him and robbed him from his new home. When Jake opened his eyes again the only thing he saw was his Mission Ops console.... |