It was torn to shreds privately, his name being wiped from history for the most part. Just because he was legendary over 200-300 years ago doesn’t mean anyone other than his comrades would recognize him the way he is now.
They constantly berated the way he acted, as though he was a god, but that was how he was treated. A god to be feared and revered depending on where you look. Yet here his past and current reputation means nothing. Maybe, just maybe, Shammus could find solace in this fact.
But it mattered not, as he was trapped on this desert floor for years now. It’s pointless to even think against it. He murmurs nothings into the charm, hoping the voice he heard before to return.
Yet nobody ever came.
- Around the same time, but on a different floor.
Bariton continued to ignore the charm, as it was pointless to ever respond. A fruitless effort, as was many other efforts. This floor was a simplistic fantasy realm, one they were able to order a carriage to carry them off to the capital.
“Bariton, what are you writing?” Judine requested insight.
“Something only a certain somebody will get to see.” Bariton grins back, winking ever so slightly.
“Tsk, you have the time to write that, you have the time to tell us the future you see in mind.” Sornid hisses towards Bariton.
“Well I see both of you two shutting up.” Pallad mumbles, eliciting a light chuckle from Clara.
The party continues on like this throughout the entire cabinet ride, throughout many areas, including small villages. These villages didn’t care about who was in the carriage, and vice versa. The villagers made light small talk with the driver, but that was all.
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The environment slowly shifted, not even taking a full day to reach the capital. There was only one stop made between their starting point and the capital, that being something one could only guess used to be a village.
“This is the Legendary [Purge] skill. It erases all life and anything biological within the Magic Stat of the user times 5 meters.” Bariton offers up.
The carriage driver silently walked over to a fallen down house, all that was left was the stone that mostly made up the exterior, and the charred interior. There was nothing inside, and it was like the supports were never even there.
He continued digging through as Judine and Sornid walked around, analyzing the potential future threat. Pallad prayed to those long dead, along with Clara. Bariton on the other hand was consoling the carriage driver, knowing the pain he must’ve felt.
Sornid calls everyone over as they find signs of a scuffle in the town square, with many stalls and such decimated. There was only one sign of who this was against, with a skeleton. There was clear signs of some kind of whiskey being poured over the dead.
It was a mere child, some could argue 12-13. Only signs they were capable of fighting back are splatters of blood that were obviously not from the same kid. I mean, there were also sword marks all over the ground, not too clearly from what, but none of the strikes from anything were strong, or deep enough to damage bone.
“Hey, if this child was strong enough to fight something capable of destroying this village, I think we should back off for now, and just clear everything in this floor.”
“Do we even have the time to do that?” Sornid responds to Bariton’s plan with the same sharpness in his voice he’s had since he was the royal mage.
“Well sure, we may not have enough time to get stronger, but do we have time to die in a ditch somewhere?” Bariton bites back, his worry not just etched into his face, but the way he holds his lyre just screams it.
“I was hoping for a challenge later. If you want to get stronger, we may have to just continue onwards until we reach the insurmountable wall.”
“And that arrogance will get us all killed!” Bariton screams back, causing the carriage driver to jump. The other party members try to calm either of the two down. Bariton shrugs off the hand on his shoulder from Clara as he approaches Sornid.
“How much longer until your luck runs dry?” Bariton questions, before walking off.
“Wait!” Clara shouts out after Bariton, but Sornid simply stops her.
“Stop. We are going to the capital, with or without him.” Sornid turns away from Bariton, and nods towards the carriage driver, to get moving.
“Let’s go.”
Pallad and Judine watch as Bariton leaves, the weather slightly worsening as he does. A truly unfortunate time for the sky itself to cry for them.
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