A Fine Warrior!
Extra 7 Chappies in P@treon. Its exam time so I can't increase it just yet :(.
***
It didn't take long for them to find the village Morrin had warned them about. It was a homely place—well, it used to be.
The once-comfy shacks and houses were now in ruins, warped and consumed by symbols of the Death Prince, while pale, bloodless bodies erupted from the ground, their agonized wails frozen in time.
The entirety of the village was covered in a thin, milky layer of water, while a ghostly form roamed its surface. Dressed in lace and clad in tattered robes, an undead ferryman navigated the waters in its eternal boat ride, using its large horn as an oar. Crowned with a hollow gaze, it stared mindlessly, alone but accompanied.
(Character Sheet
Tibia Mariner
Age: Six years and three months old
HP: 160
FP: ---
Strength: 2
Dexterity: 4
Endurance: 6
Vigor: 16
Mind: ---
Intelligence: ---
Faith: 50
Skills:
[Rooted in Death (Passive): Deathroot festers within you, incubating into its new form as the will of the Death Prince. +50 Faith]
[Tears of the Dead (Passive): Your will is death's will. The pond of death shall answer to your call.]
[Call of the Dead (Passive): Soothe and guide lost souls, bringing them back to the Lands-Between, granting them life in unlife.]
[Teleport (Passive): As fast as light may move, as far as light may reach, darkness is, was, and will already be there. Vanish into darkness, appearing where you please.])
"Those Who Live in Death, why must they hound the living so?" Gilika snarled as Gromm and Grimm pulled out their daggers and Earnan hefted the Night Cavalry's Flail.
"'Tis cause that's all they know," Godrick muttered before eyeing the cliff in the distance. It looked quite familiar—beside the Carian Study Hall and beyond a Tibia Mariner. There lay an answer to one of his deepest problems.
He turned around on Elrus, now facing his troops, unbuckling the Black Knife from his belt and holding it up in the air.
"Godwyn the Golden, the rightful lord of the Golden Order, was murdered by this very knife," he declared, a mixture of shock and anger directed at the black blade tainted with red.
"Crowned the Death Prince through the folly and tradition of the Erdtree's burial rites, his pestilence hath spread far and wide. In days past, I didst personally rend the Deathroot from the bowels of the Catacombs. Now, I commit that task unto thee," spoke Godrick, his golden eyes sweeping over his troops. "Show me thy worth to stand beside me. Demonstrate thy valour by vanquishing the foul Mariner that haunts this accursed village."
"It shall be done, my Lord," his newly appointed Knight announced with a fire burning in his eyes. "Those who wallow in the shade of Death shall be culled by the shimmer of Godrick's Gold!"
"To Glory and Eternal Dominion!"
***
It was a half-hour journey to the familiar cliffside while his troops readied to attack the Mariner. He wished to fight one eventually, but he'd rather not waste time on a mage-build, and it was a good test for his troops.
Steep.
That was the first thought that popped into his head when he looked over the cliffside. He saw a sea of white fog, stretching for tens of kilometres before the boundless ocean began. To his left was a truly brobdingnagian bridge, connecting to the equally massive Carian Study Hall, which led to the towering Divine Tower that housed the true body of Ranni the Witch.
He dismissed Elrus in a flash of purple light and walked up to the edge to find similar large stone platforms embedded into the side, leading below the sea of fog.
Leaving his Greatspear wedged into a rock, he descended the platforms, jumping from one to the next. They were far enough apart that an ordinary person would have numerous broken bones from merely one jump, but Godrick was far from mortal.
It took a solid ten minutes of dropping down before he broke through the wall of fog in the longest fall yet. His landing kicked up large amounts of dirt and grass into the air. When the dust settled, he finally laid his eyes on the most calm and welcoming area in the Lands Between.
He found himself on a large piece of land growing out from the side of the cliff, sloping upwards, with him at the very top. A road before him wound downward, its path broken only by crumbling ruins, overgrown with wildflowers and moss.
At first glance, one might think the village before him was a forgotten outpost, for the inhabitants were no mere men but living jars—quaint, rotund creatures whose polished surfaces glinted beneath the sun. They meandered through their simple lives, tending to the earth with quiet devotion, their stubby limbs pulling at weeds or arranging flowers in patterns only they understood.
Larger ones hummed to themselves, their voices—low, soft, and full of wonder—while the smaller ones danced among themselves, frolicking amongst the copious number of rare and extraordinary flowers and plants present.
All that was well and good, but what made Godrick's heart pound in anticipation was the behemoth he saw at the other end of the landmass. Its location was different in-game, seated in the rot-infested Caelid, but here it was in all its glory.
The Great Jar, as it is known, loomed over the village, its arms crossed and legs tucked in. It was no mere object of clay but a titan—it's vast body stained with the scars of untold wars.
It was a sight to behold, but before he could [Observe] it, a small commotion broke out in the village.
He had been spotted.
The Living Jars began to panic, rushing the smaller jars into their homes made of simple wood and thatch while whispering "Poacher" to themselves. Sounds of doors slamming echoed through the now seemingly empty village, with the sole road leading up to the Great Jar, the size of a large building, which continued to sit solemnly in the background with its arms crossed.
A soft clack echoed as the door of one of the larger houses opened, and out came somebody he was quite familiar with, though he lacked the scars and weathered look he recognized.
[Observe]
(Character Sheet
Alexander, Warrior Jar
Age: Eighty-three years and three months
HP: 280
FP: 320
Strength: 19
Dexterity: 9
Endurance: 18
Vigor: 28
Mind: 32
Intelligence: 12
Faith: [N/A]
Skills: ???)
"Ho there, potential poacher! Declare your intentions, or prepare to face the mighty wrath of Alexander, Warrior Jar! I'll not hesitate to flatten you if need be!" A slightly smaller, scarless Alexander challenged, plopping himself in the middle of the road and looking up at Godrick, who gave him an amused smile.
"I am no poacher," Godrick declared, raising his hands to reveal that he bore no weapon. "I come here in search of answers. From a trusted source, I have heard tell that something here might aid me with my affliction."
"Ah, so you're not a poacher, then? Hah! Well, that's a relief. I'd rather not crush an innocent bystander beneath my mighty form!" Alexander placed his rough hands on his sides, immediately believing him.
Perhaps he was a bit too friendly.
"Tell me, friend, what affliction brings you here? If you're no poacher, then by all means, take your fill of the rare flowers and ingredients that grow in this land! Will any among them aid you in your quest, I wonder?"
"It's not an affliction of the body but of the mind," Godrick clarified. "I only feel when I am in battle, and I heard I can find something here that can help."
"Endless battle?" Alexander froze as though struck with a mighty fine thought.
"That might suffice, I suppose."
The Living Jar before him trembled in joyous laughter.
"Hohoho! What a fine warrior you are indeed! I almost wish you were within me, good sir!"
"Forgive me if I don't think the same," Godrick replied, his mind wandering to its fleshy insides.
"Ah, my apologies, I got carried away with your fine warrior spirit! Regarding your affliction, I know precisely what would do the trick. Come now, the Great Jar awaits us—glory is just ahead!"
The Great Jar stood in the distance, its arms still crossed. Its rest still undisturbed.
***
Alexander walked Godrick through the village, loudly describing any and everything around him while narrating his dream to venture out into the world and become the greatest Warrior Jar there ever was, dwarfing even the Great Jar that was now before them.
The atmosphere was stiffening, the silence that the Great Jar was in speaking volumes, while the power it exuded seemed to bleed out into reality.
(Character Sheet
The Great Jar
Age: Five thousand three hundred and three years, three months old.
HP: ????
FP: ????
Strength: ???
Dexterity: ??
Endurance: ???
Vigor: ???
Mind: ???
Intelligence: 34
Faith: [N/A]
Skills: ???)
Godrick could feel its gaze as he stood before it, though no eyes adorned its form. It merely sat there, judging, patient and unyielding, waiting for champions worthy of its silent approval.
"The Great Jar," Alexander declared with pride as they stood before the towering figure. "Becoming its champion is the dream of every Warrior Jar... no, the dream of every true warrior! You may face its chosen champions and emerge victorious, earning the title for yourself. But beware—such glory will not aid you in your quest."
Godrick raised a brow.
There was more?
"Yes, indeed!" Alexander proclaimed, puffing out his chest—or what might pass for a chest in his jar form. "If you seek endless battle and unending glory, you must strive to become the Apostle of the Great Jar! Only then shall you receive the true reward you seek."
Apostle?
Just then, as if on cue, the Great Jar uncrossed its arms for the first time in centuries.
***
POWERSTONES! Else Alexander shall get indigestion and shit out his innards.
***