It was a lot harder to explain to the hotel receptionist than he had anticipated. Sure, there had been a dead body up at his door, but Arthur had absolutely nothing to do with his actual death. In fact, he had also been the one trying to save him by getting him water. He realized though, that if the man was that close to death, not amount of healing or water would have saved him. It was like the guy used every last ounce of his energy to come get his help at the cemetery, and Arthur would be damned if he just ignored that sort of dedication because of some pissy woman working a part-time job. No, this was a serious matter that required absolute dedication, a man had died to bring attention towards whatever was happening at the graveyard. The woman wasn't taking his explanation for his word, which was annoying, but it's not like he really expected her to. If he thought about it from an objective point of view, he did actually look quite guilty. Shaking the thought from his mind, Arthur mentally left the conversation and walked towards the door. He had work to do, and he'd get it done.
"We can continue this later, I have to go help someone. Au revoir!"
Arthur felt bad about literally just leaving the woman mid-conversation, but he really didn't have time to argue with somebody who was clearly displeased with their life and wanting to take it out on him. Sure, a dead body suddenly appeared in her hotel, but that wasn't the end of the world. He was trying to reason with himself, but it wasn't particularly working. He hadn't laid a finger on the man though, but that woman knew he was some type of mage. So it was prejudice then, that made sense. A migraine was growing in his head both from his chronic lack of sleep alongside this growing thorn in his side. It wasn't the man's fault, not at all, but it was just really, really bad timing. Casting himself out into the misty night's darkness, Arthur welcomed the cold that chilled his skin. It was unsettling being out at nighttime, when he was separated from his god. Being outside of the sun's radiance put him at unease, as if he was generally unsafe. This wasn't a normal reaction, he knew, as most people were completely comfortable at nighttime, and Arthur would have been too, but this was not a normal night. A normal night wouldn't have been interrupted by somebody on death's door. A normal night wouldn't have left him struggling to explain the appearance of a dead body at his door. A normal night wouldn't have left him investigating a graveyard at the dead of night.
Staring past the cemetery's gates, a chill went down Arthur's spine. The chill was for multiple reasons, both his general unease and anxiety, but also the lower-than-normal temperature. Sure, the seasons were changing, but not this quick. Hot clouds of condensation formed with his breath, dispersing out into the chilly air. He could see movement in the distance, hunched forms and lowered speaking. Too far to hear any of what they were saying, even with his slayer's senses, Arthur had to get closer. They were doing some sort of repetitive motions, with a tool being heaved over their shoulders. It was almost like they were digging u- They were digging up graves. A feeling of shock and confusion took over, and a residual disgust lingered. Graverobbers or necromancers, both of those options left a foul taste in his mouth. Why disrupt the already dead, the practically defenseless dead? Even if someone was poor, robbing the dead was just in poor taste. And necromancy? Arthur would quickly put a stop to any of that nonsense, he couldn't bare witness to such an affront against the gods and turn a blind eye. But it was too soon to tell, they could be simple grave robbers.
Arthur cleared his voice and began shouting.
"Tell me what you're doing right now and nobody has to get hurt, well depending on your answer." It was true though, they'd definitely get hurt by his blade if they were practicing dark mages. There was no room with the living for those who torment those beyond their death. When his voice boomed out into the cemetary, the figures stilled and turned to face him. Unwavering, one of the figures pointed a finger over Arthur's shoulder. Confused, he turned to see what they were looking at and suddenly found himself way too fucking close to a walking corpse. He could smell the stench from the rotting flesh inches away from his face. Jumped back, Arthur suddenly readied his magic and shot a ball of exploding light at the abomination. In seconds, the creature dissolved into ash as Arthur charged the necromancers with his requipped sword in-hand.
As his magic began flowing from his body, Arthur and his surroundings were bathed in a shimmering light. He guessed the necromancers assumed him to be a civilian instead of a mage, but that was their mistake. It had allowed him to sneak up on their congregation without being seen and gain the upper hand. Glancing around for any more undead, two were spotted coming from his left and right. As he shot both of them with similar bolts of magic, the three cloaked figures disappeared into the night. Arthur gave chase, hopping over the wraught-iron fence in pursuit. He would not let them escape off into the night unscathed. They would pay for disrupting the forces of life and death, for disrespecting his god, and for tormenting those poor souls in the afterlife. Landing with a thump in the damp grass, Arthur tracked their dark forms into the forest. Quickly scattering in three directions, Arthur had no choice but to choose one to pursue. With little time, he decided to go after the leftmost necromancer, catching up to him with ease. Readying a spell at the tip of his sword, Arthur fired it into the figure's left leg. A feminine voice cried out in pain as they fell to the ground. Grabbing her by the wrist, Arthur pulled down her hood to see the face of a young woman, one he wouldn't have expected to be a necromancer.
Arthur quickly got to work healing the wound he had given her. She struggled against his iron grip, but resisted upon the sight of another readied spell.
"Fine, fine! Okay, turn me in or whatever, but I'm not giving up my friends, I'm not ratting them out."
With an annoyed sound, Arthur dragged her back into the city towards the knight's station.
"That's not for me to decide, you know, the knights have certain ways of getting information when required."
To be honest, he didn't know what they did to get information, Arthur wasn't that familiar with them outside the rare patrol he saw in town every now and again. With that in mind, Arthur entered into the station and explained his predicament to the officers. Content with a culprit, Arthur was rewarded handsomely for his hard work.
WC: 1200 TWC: 1200
"We can continue this later, I have to go help someone. Au revoir!"
Arthur felt bad about literally just leaving the woman mid-conversation, but he really didn't have time to argue with somebody who was clearly displeased with their life and wanting to take it out on him. Sure, a dead body suddenly appeared in her hotel, but that wasn't the end of the world. He was trying to reason with himself, but it wasn't particularly working. He hadn't laid a finger on the man though, but that woman knew he was some type of mage. So it was prejudice then, that made sense. A migraine was growing in his head both from his chronic lack of sleep alongside this growing thorn in his side. It wasn't the man's fault, not at all, but it was just really, really bad timing. Casting himself out into the misty night's darkness, Arthur welcomed the cold that chilled his skin. It was unsettling being out at nighttime, when he was separated from his god. Being outside of the sun's radiance put him at unease, as if he was generally unsafe. This wasn't a normal reaction, he knew, as most people were completely comfortable at nighttime, and Arthur would have been too, but this was not a normal night. A normal night wouldn't have been interrupted by somebody on death's door. A normal night wouldn't have left him struggling to explain the appearance of a dead body at his door. A normal night wouldn't have left him investigating a graveyard at the dead of night.
Staring past the cemetery's gates, a chill went down Arthur's spine. The chill was for multiple reasons, both his general unease and anxiety, but also the lower-than-normal temperature. Sure, the seasons were changing, but not this quick. Hot clouds of condensation formed with his breath, dispersing out into the chilly air. He could see movement in the distance, hunched forms and lowered speaking. Too far to hear any of what they were saying, even with his slayer's senses, Arthur had to get closer. They were doing some sort of repetitive motions, with a tool being heaved over their shoulders. It was almost like they were digging u- They were digging up graves. A feeling of shock and confusion took over, and a residual disgust lingered. Graverobbers or necromancers, both of those options left a foul taste in his mouth. Why disrupt the already dead, the practically defenseless dead? Even if someone was poor, robbing the dead was just in poor taste. And necromancy? Arthur would quickly put a stop to any of that nonsense, he couldn't bare witness to such an affront against the gods and turn a blind eye. But it was too soon to tell, they could be simple grave robbers.
Arthur cleared his voice and began shouting.
"Tell me what you're doing right now and nobody has to get hurt, well depending on your answer." It was true though, they'd definitely get hurt by his blade if they were practicing dark mages. There was no room with the living for those who torment those beyond their death. When his voice boomed out into the cemetary, the figures stilled and turned to face him. Unwavering, one of the figures pointed a finger over Arthur's shoulder. Confused, he turned to see what they were looking at and suddenly found himself way too fucking close to a walking corpse. He could smell the stench from the rotting flesh inches away from his face. Jumped back, Arthur suddenly readied his magic and shot a ball of exploding light at the abomination. In seconds, the creature dissolved into ash as Arthur charged the necromancers with his requipped sword in-hand.
As his magic began flowing from his body, Arthur and his surroundings were bathed in a shimmering light. He guessed the necromancers assumed him to be a civilian instead of a mage, but that was their mistake. It had allowed him to sneak up on their congregation without being seen and gain the upper hand. Glancing around for any more undead, two were spotted coming from his left and right. As he shot both of them with similar bolts of magic, the three cloaked figures disappeared into the night. Arthur gave chase, hopping over the wraught-iron fence in pursuit. He would not let them escape off into the night unscathed. They would pay for disrupting the forces of life and death, for disrespecting his god, and for tormenting those poor souls in the afterlife. Landing with a thump in the damp grass, Arthur tracked their dark forms into the forest. Quickly scattering in three directions, Arthur had no choice but to choose one to pursue. With little time, he decided to go after the leftmost necromancer, catching up to him with ease. Readying a spell at the tip of his sword, Arthur fired it into the figure's left leg. A feminine voice cried out in pain as they fell to the ground. Grabbing her by the wrist, Arthur pulled down her hood to see the face of a young woman, one he wouldn't have expected to be a necromancer.
Arthur quickly got to work healing the wound he had given her. She struggled against his iron grip, but resisted upon the sight of another readied spell.
"Fine, fine! Okay, turn me in or whatever, but I'm not giving up my friends, I'm not ratting them out."
With an annoyed sound, Arthur dragged her back into the city towards the knight's station.
"That's not for me to decide, you know, the knights have certain ways of getting information when required."
To be honest, he didn't know what they did to get information, Arthur wasn't that familiar with them outside the rare patrol he saw in town every now and again. With that in mind, Arthur entered into the station and explained his predicament to the officers. Content with a culprit, Arthur was rewarded handsomely for his hard work.
WC: 1200 TWC: 1200
