Valley of Aram

Triggers: Language warning. Mild Violence.

Valemia's form rises from kneeling, the bronze clad helmet's gaze drifting upwards. A large cross was settled behind an empty chair of red and gold. Pillars of white and torn banners lined the room. The cracked marble floor held grass in between it.


The knight's helm drifts upward, as its helm's gaze lingers upon the cross, its color faded. The window above allowed light to fall upon it, its glass missing, laying far beneath it.



The knight's helmet dips, its right gauntlet lifting to place its fingers upon the left, then right shoulder. The gauntlet touches its fingers against the bronze helm and then places its fingers to collect upon the bronze chest-piece. The knight's eyes close.


From within, the knight's voice calls outward, "Lord, make me an instrument of your peace. Where this is hatred, let me sow love. Where there is injury, pardon. Where there is doubt, faith. Where there is despair, hope. Where there is darkness, light. Where there is sadness, joy."


The knight continues, its helm dipped and its gauntlets grasping each other in front of its form, "O divine master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console; to be understood as to understand; to be loved as to love."


The knight's voice echoes off of the walls, idly, "For it is giving that we receive. It is in pardoning that we are pardoned. And it is dying that we are born to eternal life." A short pause, "Amen."


The knight's form's hands place themselves near its sides, before its helm shifts to the right, its gauntlet curling itself around the handle of a large, curved blade. Pulling upwards, the knight's gauntlet shifts the blade upwards, placing it upon its shoulder. The knight's left gauntlet grasps the curved edge of the nearby shield, lifting it upward. With a subtle toss upwards, the knight's gauntlet grasps the shield's inner handle.
I shall guide you

The knight's sabatons shift, as the knight's form turns about. Its sabatons carry its form slowly towards the two large, oaken doors. Their designs were faded. The knight's left arm pushes partially through the shield's handle, as its left gauntlet grasps the handle of the doors, pushing them open. The sun shone down upon the battlefield of tattered banners and broken bodies. The grass was but a black mist that rolled itself over remains. In the distance, a large figure with multiple eyes, short wings, and a protruding belly picked up bodies. Its large teeth bit into the body, separating it in two. The waist and legs fall near its feet.

The knight walked forward, the mist parting around the sabatons. The knight's form shifts from side-to-side as it walked, the weight rocking from right to left. From this battlefield, the knight was no more. Time passed, or did not, and the knight's sabatons carried it towards a faint light. Its left gauntlet lifts upward, and its form leaves with the light. The knight's form appears upon the outskirts of the valley, its large, curved blade settling itself within the grass, as the knight's knees collide into the ground. After a few minutes of the knight's chest piece moving subtly, the knight's form rises, and its helm shifts towards the valley.

There was a noise in the valley, a new noise.

The predator hated new noises. New noises almost always meant bad things. She crept along the earth silently, so silently, staring at the noisemaker that now intruded on the quiet valley. It didn't move like a demon, nor was it dressed like one. Still, this figure didn't seem completely harmless.

The big cat was daring, and came close, closer than she should have dared, and crouched, and watched.

The curving-finned helm lingers its gaze upon the valley, before drifting about. The light catches the bronze, reflecting partially. The helm's gaze drifts over the grass, stopping for a short pause, before continuing to the road nearly thirty feet from the knight's form. The knight's claw-gauntlets bounce lightly upon its waist, and its form sways to the right, and to the left, as the bronze sabatons carry its form towards the road's side.

A cart pulled by a herd beast, guided by a man with a leather whip, rolls into view upon the far side of the knight's right. The knight's helm drifts towards it, and watches as it rolls closer.

The cat settled and watched, tail twitching. She had heard the cart coming. The noisy metal clad figure was staring at it. Was the newcomer bent on war, perhaps? The cart would test that notion. If the figure took a swing at the cart driver it would be clear they came in the name of war. They certainly seemed dressed for it.

Birds circled over head, cawing loudly in alarm in their trees at the strange knight, and the large cat. She was annoyed. The ox pulling the cart would likely balk if it noticed her.

The cart rolled to a slowing stop, as the ox gave a snort towards the knight, its gaze lingering upon it. The knight's helmet shifts towards the man driving the cart, his hand curling the whip around his elbow and hand, "Is there something I can do for you, stranger?" The man's gaze drifts towards the large, curved blade that was settled upon the knight's shoulder, then back towards the helm as the knight's muffled voice answered, "I do not mean to interrupt you, fair sir. But I have lost my way. Do you know of where I am?"

The knight's gaze follows the man's, as its right gauntlet lifts the large, curved blade. Shifting the blade within the bronze gauntlet, the knight places the curved tip against the ground. The sharply-finned helm dips, once, "My arms will not be brought upon you. You have my word." The man nods, before his gaze drifts towards the dip of the valley, "Down that way is the Valley of Aram. A lot of merchants travel these roads to trade their goods there." The knight's helm shifts towards the valley's dip, its helm's gaze lingering upon it, "Thank you. That is all I will ask."

The ox's hoof drew itself along the ground, as its gaze snaps between the forest line. Its nose releases a snort, before the man's whip snaps across its back. The ox releases a throaty sound, before the man snaps his whip a few more times, "Move, move!" The ox's gaze drifts reluctantly away from the forest line and pulls the cart towards the valley.

Rukia got up, followed closely behind a short ways after the ox had passed. Not a warlord, no. More like a lost soldier. Heading to Aram dressed for battle may prove to be foolishness though, the city wasn't without enemies. She boldly stepped out of the brush and onto the road, now, sauntering openly behind the knight at a healthy distance.

She let out a loud, growling chuff noise at the stranger to catch their attention, and stood up. There wasn't a tiger anymore. The woman' long hair fell in front of her chest. Her clothing was tied around her waist. "Who are you?" She demanded in a tone too loud and authoritative to be polite. "Where are you coming from?"

The knight's gauntlet drifts towards the blade's handle, its fingers curling about it. Pulling upward, the knight's gauntlet rotates the blade and settles the flat of it against the bronze shoulderplate. At the sound, the knight's helm's lifts subtly, before its sharply-finned helm shifts itself. Its gaze drifts towards the femme, as the knight's sabatons rotate the knight's form to face the femme.

The knight's teal gaze drifted towards the femme, underneath the helmet. After a short pause, the knight's muffled voice answers, "I am Knight Valemia of Burmese." The knight's sharply-finned helm dips, once, before its gaze settles upon the femme. "Who am I addressing?" The knight's facial features shift underneath the helmet, "I do not know from where I was, before arriving here. However, it was similar to my peoples' tales of the abyss."

"I am Rukia." She said flatly. "And I hope you have a better explanation for the city guard, if that is where you are headed. Aram has enemies, and you are dressed like one." She tilted her head.

"You are already pushing your luck, wandering into the wilderness alone. Do you have any idea of what lives here? What hunts here? Armor will not save you from it. What business do you have with these woods? With that city?"

She was demanding. One could say she almost felt personally insulted by the unwelcome intrusion into what she felt were her own personal hunting grounds.

The knight's sharply-finned helm dips, once, before settling its gaze upon the femme. The knight's form was formal, "I do not. I only have the truh of what I know and what I have experienced." The knight's helm's gaze drifts downward, then towards the femme, "Then I will travel to the city informally. I thank you for your advice."

The facial features shift underneath the knight's helmet, its sabatons lifting and placing themselves upon the grass. The knight's posture is straight, "I did not travel through the wilderness. I do not. I do not. I do not rely on armour alone. I am not afraid of what may happen." A short pause, "I do not have any business within the woods. I will have to travel to the nearest church or temple. Should that be through the woods, that will be my business."

"Temple?" She pondered quietly. "Then you should come with me. I know of a large temple within the city. I would rather walk there with you than leave you be out here. Whether or not you are afraid, you should be."

She walked around, in front of the knight. "You make noise when you walk. A lot of noise. If game hears you, it will run, if danger hears you, it will come. Either option gets in my way, and I do not much feel like cleaning up after another vaasa attack."

She shuddered slightly. "That, and these roads are not without thieves."

The knight's sharply-finned helm nods, once, "I must thank the Lady's grace for my passing of the abyss. It is my knightly duty to do so." The knight's helm lingers its gaze upon the femme and a short pause passes. The knight's eyes linger upon the femme, "I do not know of the area, so I will accept your guidance." The sharply-finned helm shifts from side to side, "As long as I remain breathing, I know not of fear. The Lady's grace sustains my spirit, and my will."

The knight's form stood still, the teal eyes drifting after the femme, idly. The knight's sharply-finned helm nodded, once, "I do. This is true." A short pause, "I know not of the beast you speak of, but should we encounter trouble, I will ask that you allow them to attack me. Do not impose yourself between them and I. This is all that I ask." A short pause, "That is not to say that you may not fight beside me. But my honor need not be defended."

The knight's helm shifts towards the road, "I will follow you when you are ready to leave."

"If we find one, if you can manage to reach it before I do, you may kill it." She stated curtly, and walked on. "Who is the lady? Is she a god?" Rukia asked casually.

"There are many gods in this area. I find it difficult to keep track of them all. Most of them don't matter." If that was rude, she didn't seem to notice. "You say you walked through an abyss? Are you quite certain you weren't struck on the head? Or drugged? You may need to see a healer."

The knight's helm dips, lightly, "Your words are fair. I will combat under these terms." The knight's sabatons carried its form after the femme, the weight of the armor shifting to the right, then the left with the knight's steps. The blade's flatside shifts upon the shoulder plate. The knight's gaze drifts towards the femme, her pace strangely normal, "She is a divine being. Her love is eternal, and her grace knows no boundaries." A short pause, "In the terms of a god, she can be described as one. Though she can be found anywhere, unlike local deities."

The knight's sabatons carry its form after the femme's, a period of silence. Then, "That is all I can describe it as. I will not lie to you." The knight's teal gaze lingers upon the femme, "I have not suffered any wounds upon my head. I am not under an influence of outside medicines." The knight's helm shakes from side to side, "I am not injured. I would not wish to distract a healer from their tasks."

"So, something like a sky god, then?" She quirked an eyebrow. "I never found gods to be very helpful, myself, though there are one or two I pay respects to every once in a while."

The woman walked quickly, just ahead of the knight. Her feet were bare but she seemed not to notice or care. "As far as abysses go, I will choose to believe you. There are stranger things in this valley than what you have described. The temple will know more about what to do about it than I do. I am merely the clean up crew."

The knight's throat released a muffled sound, as its sabatons carried its form after the femme, "The Lady is what she is. She is a being of love and welcoming. I wish to hold up such ideals through my actions and words." The knight's pace remained the same, the helm's gaze drifting to the left, then the right.

The knight's gaze drifts towards the femme, as its sabatons step over rocks upon the road, "Thank you for your trust in my words." The knight travels after the femme in relative silence, afterwords.

"Non violence does not appear to be part of the equation, if the armor and sword are any indicator." Rukia smirked slightly. "But that is not my business. A god without power isn't much of a god anyway."

She glanced over her shoulder. "Not that I'm judging you, I'm hardly a nonviolent type myself." The foot traffic on the road ahead was getting thicker as the dirt trails from the smaller villages outside Aram converged with the main road. Rukia untied the clothing from her waist and finally deemed it appropriate to cover her chest.

"You may want to put the sword in its sheath if you have one. Otherwise the guards may question you. I do not think you would cause trouble for them but they would slow us down, and I do have other things to do today."

The knight's sabtons continue to carry its form after the femme, the knight's gaze drifting to meet the femme's back. The blade shifts idly against the shoulder plate, the sound of metal upon metal, "My armour has been gifted to me, so that others may be spared my appearance. My blade is my honour." The knight's sabatons carry it after the femme, in silence again.

The knight's blade shifts to lay itself straight back from its shoulder plate. The knight's sharply-finned helm shakes from side-to-side, "I do not own a sheath for my blade. If they do, you are free to continue your tasks without me. I will ask others where I might find the temple within."

"Your appearance? I dare say you won't have to worry about that, here. There are plenty of strange faces in Aram. There are beast people, elves, pale faced immigrants, goblins... for the most part, they get along fine despite the odd pair of ears or claws or whiskers. I doubt your appearance will startle many."

She wrinkled her nose. "Not unless you've got a demonic countenance. In which case, I'd highly advise leaving on the helmet, or considering a veil."

The knight's helm lingers its gaze upon the femme, but dips low to follow the slope of the valley. The knight's sabotons lift and fall evenly, but its pace slows, "That was the reasoning behind the gift. I do not wish to discuss my appearance." The knight's armour rocks to the side, with each step, the blade's flat end sliding to the right, then the left. The knight's helm lifts upward, its gaze finding the femme, "I will speak of other things, but I do not entertain the idea of speaking when I must see to the Lady's church. It is best that I appear within it without delay."

A short pause, as the knight's gaze drifts towards the outskirts of Aram, "I will not stop to speak, but I will speak and move as one." The knight's gaze returns to the femme's back, "What is the proper greeting of travelers, when they approach this city?"

She stiffened slightly. "Well, I am assuming you aren't a true demon, then, else you would likely have tried to take my head off by now. They usually do. As far as greetings go..." She side eyed the stranger warily.

"I'm fond of silent staring, myself." She shrugged. "As far as greetings go, if you feel you must greet someone, a simple hello should suffice. Anything more might be taken as too forward. There are many groups within the city and not all of them have the same ideas about it."

She pondered a moment. "If someone asks you about your business, tell them you are on duty and need to find the temple. You look enough like one of the hunters that you could pretend to be one, in a pinch."