Althea Hartell: A Knight's Journey

Unread post by **BattleBee47** » Mon Jul 10, 2017 9:49 am

Althea pushed forward, she refused to give up. The woman raised her shield and charged the skeletal mage with all her might. She bashed her shield into the monster until it was nothing more than a lifeless pile of bones.
“Good hit.” came Alexander’s voice behind her.
Althea nodded and rolled her shoulder’s back in preparation for the next enemy.
Her body ached from head to toe, her mind was racing over the previous day’s events. She wasn’t sure how she felt about saying goodbye to someone she thought had the potential to be a great friend. Meeting in secret wasn’t an option. Guilty by association wasn’t an option.
She said that she was fine. She meant it in the moment. After leaving that room, she resolved to push it from her mind and her heart. She had others that needed to be protected. She didn’t have the luxury of letting others in. She wouldn’t make that mistake again. She would use her shield.

The woman raced off again, charging into another skeleton. The body releasing bones in all directions upon impact. She channeled the entirety of her frustrations into her shield. She had to. She felt better knowing that this was her purpose. Knowing that this was who she was and what she was meant for.

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Unread post by **BattleBee47** » Thu Jul 13, 2017 2:01 pm

Mindset.

The woman shuffles in the Inn room, removing her cloak and hood from another day of near constant patrols. She is distracted. Her body aches and her mind is racing through the events of the tenday. In the dim lit room, the woman notices a desk in the corner with parchment and a quill waiting.

“I guess I could give it a go.”
Althea shrugs as she sits in the wooden chair and begins writing her thoughts.
The handwriting is neat and curved, and you can tell a lot of thought was placed into the choosing of the words.

“Today was a hard day. Today I learned a valuable lesson of what it means to be a woman of faith. People look at you differently. People expect certain things of you. You must be a symbol of your God you represent. I never knew it'd be this difficult with three.”

The woman rolls back her shoulders and leans down into the paper before her. Her attention fully focused on the ink as it stains the paper.

“It was reality check when the necromancer decided to cause trouble near the camp fire for the second time. Yet again, I was not strong enough. I held my shield, my virtue. But did not attack. I guarded. I warned others of the potential threat. I guarded. I find my mind wandering from time to time, and... Well... Looking back on recent events, I wonder if I've found myself in over my head. I don’t know a thing about love, relationships or even friendships. I’ve been traveling much of my life and haven’t stayed in one place long enough to get to really know someone. I have learned combat, faith, and technique. Best to stick to what I know, and I know what needs to be done. I need to focus on the how. I must continue. I must push forward. I will put on a brave face and increase the momentum. My shield will keep me true. No matter the cost. As Alexander says, ‘May Duty bind, Justice serve, and Mercy find.”

Althea inhales sharply as she stares down at the page covered with ink.
“I must continue my development.”

The woman scribbles a few more notes from her training on combat observations:

Unread post by **BattleBee47** » Thu Jul 13, 2017 2:43 pm

Combat Observations:

Alexander Marshall: Primary Weapon – Greatsword
His style varies depending on the combat. The huge man sweeps seamlessly between two fighting styles. Though he seems more comfortable with his great sword. Proficient with longsword and shield and carries other weapons as well. His intelligence in combat is impressive. His feet adjust automatically to the enemy’s movements and his body weaves through his strikes. It’s odd that even with all that metal attached, he moves like he’s wearing only a robe. When the man swings whichever blade he chooses to use for whichever occasion, he deals massive amounts of damage, severely crippling his foes.

Michael Dunn: Primary Weapon – No idea.
The man uses various weapons depending on the circumstance. He must have different blades hidden in all sorts of places. Thus far, I’ve seen the man use a flail, scimitar, greatsword, longbow, a spear, longsword with a shield. Somehow, I suspect there are more tucked away. The man weaves in and out of the shadows as if it were second nature.

Derik Ranloss: Primary Weapon – Bastard Sword and shield.
Notably his flaming sword is engraved with the Tempus symbol as well as his hilt and crossguard.
His tactical and technical proficiencies lead him to hold himself well in a commanding position, though he appears quite capable of taking orders as well. His movements seem calculated as he switches between three weapons situationally. His body shifts with the enemy as he attacks the critical points. Derik seems to analyze each fight and understands the ins and outs before they begin. The man’s expression remains emotionless while fighting. Killing is clearly not something he is competitive with. He will gladly give the last hit to a friend in order to help them better understand an enemy. There are no ill will in his movements, as they seem to come naturally as rain does to the coast. The desire to help others succeed is clearly evident in the way that the man carries himself and speaks.

Greil Nightgale: Primary Weapon – Longsword or Morningstar
The man has the ability to bestow powerful spells upon his allies prior to battle. He carries himself with an unnerving confidence in battle as he switches between weapons and spells. This man is practiced. This man is deadly.

Reineke Ingenium: Primary Weapon - Magic and a very large blade
This man will cast protective spells over himself and others upon the approach of battle. He will charge headlong into the fray, while his body remains little more than a mist. Enemies try as they might to hit his aura and their blades mostly miss. It is a wonder to watch his figure shimmer as his magics protect him from harm.

Adallan Ragnon: Primary Weapon - Hands/Fists/Feet
This man has an extremely unique approach to battle. He wears no armor. He wields no blade, yet he is as effective as many others in taking down his foe. He moves faster than the eye can keep up with and many times has to slow himself so that others may keep pace. It is an astonishing sight to witness and a testament to the man's sheer strength of willpower.

Everett Blackwolf: Primary Weapon - Scimitar
He wields his blade well with a quiet confidence. He will knock his foes to the ground or off balance and focus on their weaknesses. I've not seen his ferocity matched in battle other than Alexander. He swings his blade swiftly to cut his foes down to end the battle as quickly as possible. I will continue to watch his tactics to learn as I can.

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Unread post by **BattleBee47** » Fri Jul 14, 2017 9:25 am

The woman trudged back to her room in the Inn, legs and heart heavy. The parchment waiting her return and tales of her day and labors.
Her mind wandered to the previously cursed man and his struggles.

“What can I do to aid his suffering? The pain is palpable in the air around the man. His features give way to despair and anguish. What can I do to follow Ilmater’s path. How can I help?”

The woman leans back in the chair, her armor creaking in protest. Dried wyvern blood flakes from the metal with her movements.

“He spoke of others hating him so, of acts of violence against him. I swore that no harm would come to him whilst I’m around. I mean it. No one should be shown such hatred, especially with what he’s been through. I can’t imagine losing…what seems to be years. I will do as promised and take him a cake every day. It may be a small offering, but I will do as I must to raise his spirits. I will do my best to help the man walk again, find himself again. He deserves that. Everyone does. I will, with my actions demonstrate that it is possible to show tenderness to those in need. To offer compassion, encouragement, and fairness. Hopefully The Broken God will hear my prayers and aid this man. He encourages endurance of pain, and suffering with promises that good will come to those who wait. So I write my prayers out, to ease this man’s pain. Ease his abuses from the evils he’s faced. Make way for hope and give him mental fortitude to continue on his path. I believe in his heart. I believe in his soul.”

The woman smiles softly as she writes the last words. She places the quill down and kneels by the bedside to begin speaking her prayers to Ilmater. After many candlemarks, Althea appears to be exhausted. She crawls into the bed and relaxes into a deep slumber.

Unread post by **BattleBee47** » Tue Jul 18, 2017 11:34 am

Dreams:
Althea’s arms ached as she endeavored to keep her shield in front of her form. Tasloi were attacking left and right, never-ending wave after wave. Her blade was bloodied and her legs began shaking from exhaustion. Althea maintained composure and after each swing or shield bash, she moved towards the edge of the wood. Each step pained her. The Tasloi took every opportunity to strike her knees and ankles, tearing her apart piece by piece.

In what seemed like a blink of an eye, the beasts were gone and she was standing in front of the lighthouse. It was consumed in shadow. Softly spoken whispers entranced the woman and she no longer felt the pain of the previous battle. Althea could not move. Her armor suddenly seemed too heavy for her body. Her hands released her shield and sword. A clank was barely heard as the toppled to the ground. Her eyes remained glued to the lighthouse as she began to see figures and shadows moving about. She could make out shades of the darkness, ebbing and weaving around the height of the tower. The malevolence was palpable in the air as Althea struggled to catch her breath. The woman fell to her knees and began to speak prayers to her gods. She spoke to Torm and asked for righteousness to face such a foe. She asked Tyr for the strength to carry out justice and to Ilmater to ease the suffering of those engulfed in the corruption and hatred she felt. The words burned her lungs as she spoke. As light began emanating from the woman’s figure and she no longer felt weak. The woman picked up her weapons and stood to face the darkness. She screamed a battle cry as the shadows bit into her form. Althea charged forward.

The woman awoke suddenly as her voice called for battle. In the empty inn room, Althea shook her head and wiped the cold perspiration from her forehead. She laid back and peered up towards the ceiling of her room. The candle light flickering created shapes and forms on the wood as the rainfall pelted the roof. Althea rolled from the bed with a sigh.
“I wasn’t tired anyways.”
She began preparing her weapons and armor for the patrols that lay ahead.

Unread post by **BattleBee47** » Thu Jul 20, 2017 4:12 pm

Althea took a deep breath and stepped out of the shadows. She had been following the Purple Dragon Knights around for nearly a month, watching their every move and practicing at night.
“When can I become one?” the young girl asks herself out loud.
“You’re not meant to be one of us.” The old man appeared behind her and spoke softly.
Althea, startled, turned to face her grandfather.
“Then what am I meant to be?” she sighed heavily, watching the soldiers complete their drills.
“You’ll know in time, young one. You’ll know.” Augustine peered down at the young girl and patted her head with a grin under his massive helmet.
“What… in the hells does that… mean?” she stammered, frustrated.

With a flash of a smile, the commander took his position, striding to his troops with a wave over his shoulder.

Althea stood there for a moment longer and lumbered off towards the docks, irritation evident in every step.
At the age of twelve Althea found herself to be different from the other kids. She was shorter than most of them, but built sturdier. Her form was muscular, even at a young age. Most of the other kids were out in the streets, playing games of chase or swimming near the docks. The young girl couldn’t find herself to join in. The soft glow of her eyes scared them away any time she tried to talk to them. The called her names and shouted that she was a monster. Her grandfather had the same glow in his eyes so she knew that she couldn’t be all those terrible things. So, she trained. She dreamed of helping others, of saving souls. She just wasn’t sure how she was going to do it.

Unread post by **BattleBee47** » Fri Jul 28, 2017 12:06 pm

The woman trudged through the inn and headed upstairs to her room. Her armor was covered in blood and dirt from a few days’ worth of training and what seemed like never-ending battle. Her legs were shaky and she could feel the muscles burn in protest as she made her way up, stair by stair. When finally, in the room she now called home, she quickly began removing the armor and cleaning the grime from the small crevices. As she allowed herself to relax into the chair, she looked over to the bed.

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There was a package of sorts. It was rather large and had been wrapped delicately with a deep purple cloth. Curious, the woman sat down the piece of metal she was working at and moved to the container. It was heavy and sounded like there were metal parts clinking as she lowered herself down beside the parcel.

The woman looked for a note of sorts to explain what was contained or if it was even intended for her.

Hidden: show

Her heart skipped a beat and her breath caught in her throat.
“But how…”
The woman’s gaze lingered on the armor as her heart swelled and a single tear danced at the edge of her eyelid.
In the package was custom armor, designed after the Purple Dragon Knights of Cormyr. Specifically, after her Grandfathers. The only difference being, this armor was crafted for her form and shape exactly.
As the woman carefully armed herself with the new, brilliant armor, she couldn’t help but feel honored. She was so proud of how far she had ventured and knew that this new metal would protect her from the journeys of life that are to come.

Unread post by **BattleBee47** » Wed Aug 09, 2017 10:55 am

The woman returns to her to her room at the inn and collapses in a heap on the bed. She stares at the wood grains on the ceiling as the shadows flicker across them. She watches in awe as the candle light sends a warm glow throughout the room before her. Her thoughts wander as her gaze is fixated on the movements. She shifts to the table and begins to scribble the words as they come. Her handwriting is not neat, and you can tell the words are written as they come, pure and true.

“All my life I had wanted one single thing. I had wanted to be a Knight. I had wanted to follow the Triad. As I still do. Time passed here in these lands, I felt my heart overflowing with love. The more I tried to push it away, the harder it pushed back. I had to be tough. I had to be. It had been a struggle between my heart and mind. A war to keep my heart at bay. Battle raged on inside me. The questions kept me from focusing on my lessons, kept me from my duties. The questions echoed. To continue down the path of the Triad and hold steadfast to Mercy, Justice, and Duty? Do I cling to the teachings? Or is it merely a lesson that I can only move forward from? Can Justice and Duty merge with the matters of Love? I remember leaving that table frustrated and hurt. My mind telling me that Duty and Justice is all that matters. Who else will uphold such? Who else holds such standards? I felt betrayed that someone would even suggest I alter my faith. My whole life had built to this. Why would I change? Why would they even suggest such? What had I done wrong? I was so foolish. I had acted like a flippant child.”

The woman exhales deeply as her hands began to shake as she soaked her quill with ink once more.

“The moment it hit me, I could barely breathe. My arms trembled at my sides. I was fearful of his death. I had never felt so helpless against anything in my life. I knew I loved him as if he were my true family. I could no longer deny such. I now understood why he was so fearful for my safety. I was ashamed that I had shrugged off his concern. How naïve of me. In that moment, I knew which path I needed to take. I no longer felt unsettled with myself or others for suggesting a different path. The battle had subsided within me. There was only love that remained. Love and the desperate need to protect this man. He was so fragile...So Pure. So broken, yet so beautiful. Family. Love, not like between lovers, but between the firmest of friends, between brothers and sisters of the soul despite our evident differences."

Thinking back to the previous day the woman chuckles a bit, embarrassed.

My mentor, and essentially older brother, Alexander spoke words that still rang in my ears. ‘We must always seek an understanding of other faiths, so that we may better understand the people whom follow them. One should always be open to learning from others, lest you hinder your own growth as a person, and a paladin.’ I now understood the words. I was blind to them before and I must apologize for my previous ignorance. I shouldn’t have been so hesitant to the man’s insight. In that moment, I had felt so overwhelmed. I had felt so defeated. Now…I know things must change. I know which path I must take. I have let my heart and my mind make the needed peace and will let love take the reins.”

With a soft, confident smile the woman closes the notebook and places a flower petal on the top. She stares at the beauty reflected in the flames for just a moment longer and retreats to the comfort of sleep.

Unread post by **BattleBee47** » Thu Aug 17, 2017 2:27 pm

As the woman climbed the stairs to the room; her body still on edge. Her thoughts lingered on the happenings of the evening and the tension was ever present in her bones and muscles.
His words had helped. Even if for a moment. He was the reprieve from the chaos that is this coast.
“I’m not sure how he does it, but his presence alone was enough to prevent me from drawing my blade out of instinct alone” she thought to herself.

She opens the door to the room and relieves herself of the satchel as she trudges towards the desk. Althea relaxes into the chair and her gaze fixates on the blank pages for a moment. As she dips the quill the words flow as they come to her, not holding back her thoughts.

“Tasseldale. I’ve pushed all but the lessons from my thoughts since leaving. I’ve tried to not dwell on what all happened there. Lessons of Tyr and his justice and legal education. That was what I needed to remember. That is what I told myself at least. I wish that I could say that my experience there was pleasant and that it went smoothly. If only. Upon my arrival, from Westgate, I was greeted with the remnants of a battlefield.”

She sighs heavily, rubbing her temples with the back of her hand watching as ink dripped onto the page.

“The numbers in the Abbey of the Just Hammer had dwindled over time due to drow attacks. I quickly learned that this was a normal occurrence. The people had grown accustomed to it. Their eyes reflected an unmeasurable amount of sadness and helplessness. The air was thick with grief.”

She shakes her head again, dipping her quill, inhaling slowly to calm her shaking hands.

“The only reprieve was that they knew the drow would show no mercy and end their lives quickly. At least for now, they were not taking prisoners. I guess there is always a positive way to look at it. I always kept trying to at least. As I watched my friends...”

She leans back in the chair and exhales heavily, shaking her head.

“I’ll write more tomorrow. I…can’t get this out tonight.”

The woman moves to the bed and lays with her hands folded behind her head. She allows her mind to wander for only a moment before she pushes the thoughts away.

“If only I had the luxury of ignoring the dangers of this coast.”

Unread post by **BattleBee47** » Mon Aug 21, 2017 3:28 pm

The woman reflects on moments as she awakens to the morning sun drifting through the window. A smile curving on her features as she glances over.
"I am so lucky."
Althea raises to her feet and quietly makes her way towards the desk. She writes the words from memory as the soft smile never leaving her lips.

If I could capture the words…the way they were used. The way that they spun the most beautiful of scenes. The admiration that reflected in his golden eyes as his tongue told of the colors. The way that they described that moment. They wouldn’t have done it justice. It was much more than that. The way the prismatic shift left me breathless. The chill as the armor pressed on my skin. The way the snowflakes fell upon my cheeks and eyelashes. They were frigid, but did not hurt. The way he looked at me. The way my heartbeat quickened each time.
What was this? I’ve never felt so relaxed and serene around someone before. Our conversations so easily diverted between the stories of our lives and past experiences. It was easy to speak and listen to him speak. The way his eyes glistened in the sunset. It’s indescribable.

Althea's thoughts wandered as she reflected.
"I never thought that a single moment...that turned into hours would be what carried me through. His quiet resolve and unending support will never cease to astonish."

She closes her journal and tiptoes back to bed.

Unread post by **BattleBee47** » Thu Aug 24, 2017 11:16 am

“A storm lingers in the distance. It is brewing and growing in strength as the candlemarks pass. It is ever watchful and present. I know it is there, and that it threatens us all. I’d like to see the mountains burn. I’d like to see the temple in flames with the Frost Lord’s body deep within. Yet still, mercy holds my blade. Justice will be served. Not yet. Patience, Althea.”

The woman sighs heavily and leans back in the chair. Her gaze staring blankly at the pages before her. Leaning forward, she scribbles her thoughts down onto the parchment.

“The same day I was Knighted member of the Radiant Heart, pieces began to chip away. Alexander fell in battle and a great many went to recover his body. It was a success, however not worth the honor and respect that some lost of me that day. The cold man….”

She shakes her head.

"No...I won't write his cursed name. He will not taint these pages with his wickedness."

“May he fall swiftly in battle. May my blade end his reign of frozen terror on this land. May the Loyal Fury grant me the strength to face such a foe. May he feel my steadfast determination to the call of my duties. May the Maimed God allow me to carry out justice in honor of the law to further the greater good of this realm. May the Broken God grant me the mercy to end it swiftly so that he may not suffer in his last moments. May my shield protect all others whom he threatens. In times like these, I must turn to my faith. I believe that we can overcome.”

Unread post by **BattleBee47** » Thu Aug 31, 2017 10:40 am

As the woman trudges along clad in grey armor that appears to be drooping from her small frame, she can be seen heading back within the walls of the Radiant Heart. Her oversized cloak, dragging along behind her. She heads towards her preferred sleeping quarters in the bell tower. As she removes her armor and lowers herself onto the bedroll, she seeks her own journal.

She leans against the stone wall and writes the words as they come.

“I feel… Frustrated. Hurt. Isolated. Tired. So very tired. I’ve spent endless hours within these walls trying to soothe the ache that now remains. Trying to alleviate the pain both of their departures has left. My heart feeling heavy and weighted.”

“My mentor. I understand why he left. His soul went through an unnecessary turmoil. His friends had betrayed all that the man had stood for. I understand. I could have done more. I should have done more. The look on the others faces as I spread the news, I will never forget their disappointment. I will never forget the way their eyes trailed my features, comparing me to him. I am not Alexander. I can never fill his shoes. I will do as I must to try. I will honor him by pushing forward. No more distractions. No more…”

Her eyes flutter a moment as Althea looks to the ceiling, drawing in a deep breath.

“He is gone now too. I wish he understood. I wish that my words and my duty did not hurt my heart and cause him pain. I must endure. I wish that he would have stayed, even if to only remain my friend. The man’s allaying presence is gone now as the world swirls in a never-ending downwards spiral. I am grasping at the edges, only to come up with empty hands.”

Althea looks to the ceiling again as a small bird circles in the rafters, building a nest. A soft smile pulls at the edges of her lips as she looks back to the pages on her lap.

“In these times, I must reflect on my teachings. Compassion. Duty. Justice. I must remember these words and learn that no matter what, I will be there to face the evils that encroach on this land. I will take that stand for all of those that I care for. I will die for them if needed. So that they may continue to have their parties, and their celebrations. I will watch the door. I will guard them. I will keep them safe. I have to. There is no other way for me.”

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Unread post by **BattleBee47** » Thu Sep 07, 2017 4:19 pm

Placing a small sign outside of the Chapterhouse gates, the woman stares at it a moment before heading inside the walls of her comfort. She moves swiftly to her favorite spot within the walls, nestling against the wall, pulling her knees into her chest and dragging her notebook onto her lap. Her words flow as her brow furrows while she writes. Her hand moves quickly and her handwriting suffers greatly.

“I feel the pull. I feel the ever present evil on this land as they hide behind the façade of doing good for others. In reality, to others like me, the thin sheet that covers their intentions can easily been gazed upon. I am having difficulty understanding why others are turning their heads to the evil they serve. Why the people are giving into the fear and hatred they represent. I will not stop until they are cleansed from this land. I have to counter the fear and despair with hope as I did in the Tasseldale.”

Althea shakes her head as she continues.

“To have the tiefling openly attack. To be so bold. I am in shock, though I am not afraid. If she is able to slay me with such cowardly acts, then I deserve to stay in the dirt. I do not fear death. I do not fear her arrows. I have to hold fast to the idea that good can overcome such darkness. That the light will shine so bright, none of them can hide.”

She sighs and closes her book, moving to lay on her side, speaking the words out loud.

“I have to keep on hoping.”

Althea Hartell: A Knight's Journey

Althea Hartell: A Knight's Journey

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