Arthur Harrington
HP: 5600/5600 MP: 3097/3097
The scorching heat from Arthur's bath was comforting through the month's growing chill. It was long since harvest-time and snow was beggining to fall from the sky around Cedar, lending to a white coat on top of the gothic architecture alongside the awnings around the shopping district. More than ever, the shopping district was constantly alive with the crowds of people trying to get thesmelves a gift for a loved one or just a gift for themselves really. Arthur really enjoyed this time of year because the people in the bars were usually happier and the taverns around Fiore usually had spiced butter beer or things of that nature. His favourite thing though, all things considered, was the egg nog commonly served with cookies or buttered toast. Regardless, Arthur was distracted from the lulling heat of his bath by a knock at the door. COuld it have been a delivery, or a fan? Arthur was generally confused and genuinely curious at the thought. He hadn't ordered any goods online recently, and so the only other thing left that it could have been was a package. But at the same time though, why couldn't the mailman just use the slot in his door for mail? it was fully functional in all of its abilities, but Arthur felt a bit of pressure to actually get up out of his chair and help the person at his door. This could have been Arthur's one-in a hundred customer that desperately needed his help, or just junk mail advetising a new restaurant in his area. Sighing to himself, Arthur rose from the hot water's surface and listened to the remaining bath water cascading of fhis form and splashing down into the tub's basin. Dressing himself quickly with his requip magic, the Paladin squirmed at the feeling of wet skin against clothing. Once he got to his door, Arthur immediately dodged what he thought was a bolt of frozen energy coming towards him. In his hallway, a small female ghost was haunting and currently attacking him. Reflexively, Arthur shot out a simple bolt of magic and quickly took down the spirit that he had smote mere moments ago. The action left an off smell in the hallway, one of ectoplasm and ash, but the job was done. Arthur noticed an envelop at the same door, and so he opened it and read its contents. It was a note from his past self, one detailing his failures and anxieties.
Suddenly gripped by these mental struggles, Arthur found himself quickly skipping forward to the last part of the letter, which read that the rest of the spirits would be haunting the Cathedral. The paladin was certainly entertained at the very least, as it seemed he would be doing a bit of ghost hunting this Christmas season. It was getting late into the evening so everything had been cast in that gloomy winter blue shade of night. He was on the sidewalk when the second spirit appeared before him in the middle of the street. Cars passed through it without problem as it formed a pair of ice swords in her hands. Riding her skeletal horse, the spirit bounded towards him with her swords ready. This spirit didn't go down with just one attack, however, as its icy blade sliced at his armor and gave him troubling visions of the pirates he had put down or injured not too long ago. After the second bolt of holy magic, however, the spirit soon dissipated and withered away from existence after being defeated. Now that he had defeated two of them relatively easily, the paladin wondered how many of the spirits were exactly left. Could it have been that they were specifically targeting him for a reason, or had someone sent them after him? It was a troubling thought, but not one that prevented him from approaching the cathedral he had grown very familiar with over his near-permanent residency in Cedar. Arthur could see the twinkling lights adorning the church and the exteriors of all the other buildings nearby. It really was so pretty if he thought about it, the effort all of the civilians put in to build up the Christmas spirit, it really was something extraordinary. Arthur's detection of undead picked up the greater wraith haunting the cathedral. He could feel its dark aura trying to seep into his mind through his magic guard and things that otherwise would have protected against mind-altering effects. Arthur had little warning before he was suddenly overcome with a fear and existential dread about the things that awaited him in his future. He was thinking about how he would fall out of favor with his god and be left to struggle quietly as he was cut off from his powers. It was definitely a terrifying thought, and even worse one to be magical cast into his mind by a winter wraith. Bursting down the cathedral door with his armored boot, Arthur came to see the freaky-looking wraith haunting the vaulted ceilings of the cathedral.
With its long flowy black robes and tree-branch wings, it was definitely looking the part of a wraith. The magic protecting Arthur's mind reinforced itself as the creature let out another telepathic attack on his psyche, it wouldn't be a good thing for him to be affected by a stronger blast of the magic, he didn't know what type of imagery the ghost would be able to conjure up this time now that he was closer to it. Gathering his magic all around him, the paladin's body glowed a bright yellow before Arthur released an explosion of magic around him from his body, dousing the cathedral in blinding yellow light that smote the wraith on contact with the explosion of daylight. it probably wasn't that easy to take down these spirits, but his magic was generally affected against their type of undead so he wasn't really complaining at all. Arthur's surroundings had been untouched by the explosion, thanks to his grace in applying the light of all creation. Even after defeating the ice wraith, Arthur could feel another magical presence that was not his own within the cathedral. Looking around, the paladin caught sight of an old short-looking man emerging from a back door of the cathedral. Wearing the guise and robes of an old miser, he definitely looked the part of a villain. Before Arthur could stop the man, he seemingly summoned all of the undead spirits at once. Two could play at that game, Arthur thought, as he summoned Avacyn from a pair of golden gates appearing behind him. Now with her presence, the angel blessed him with her hope and gathered her darkness at the tip of her spear. "I'm going to take care of these spirits for you and send them to a peaceful rest in the afterlife. You take care of their summoner, Arthur."
Nodding at the angel's instruction, Arthur requipped his sword before teleporting behind the miser with a raised sword. Ready to slash, the mage sent out a wave of emotion magic that made him doubt his urge to protect the city from the undead. It made him falter, and in that moment the mage slashed at him with a hidden blade from underneath his old worn coat. Pain blossomed from his cheek as blood trickled down his face. Casting a healing glow over his hand, Arthur healed his wound with ease and teleported once more to chase the miser who had injured him so. Now aware that the man used a form of emotional magic, the paladin guarded himself with his strongest spell as he felt a tiny sliver of Helios entering into his soul to protect him against those types of effects. This man was very dangerous, if his affinity for emotional manipulation and necromancy were anything to go by. Arthur would have to put him down, it seemed, as restraining him would be just a tad bit too difficult it seemed. Maybe it was just Arthur being spiteful for those hurtful images the creatures had provoked in his mind, but he wasn't feeling particularly merciful. Giving the summoner the same treatment as he had given its summons. Arthur gathered solar magic along his blade before sending out a volley of slices to track and home in on the evil necromancer mage. The mage was pretty weak without his summons, all things considered. And as Avacyn fended off each of their wretched forms, Arthur was free to watch as the summoner fell down to one knee after being critically injured by the attack. If Arthur was feeling merciful, he did not show it to the man as he cast a glare at the necromancer before leaving. Hopefully someone would find the man in the cathedral before he bled out on its ancient stone floor. Maybe not, but that was for the fates to decide. It was not up to him now as he retreated back out onto the wintery night road and back to the festival of Christmas lights he had been planning to attend in the first place. Hopefully the Christmas revelers would not mind his rugged appearance, he had just come from a battle after all.
| Spell Healing: (X(1.5))4.9 | Spell Damage: (X)2.7 | Spell Durability: 4.0 | Strength: 105HP Speed: 210m/s Spell Range: (X)2.35 | HP Regen: 20%/Post MP Regen: 15%/Post MP Regen: 10%/Post Daylight/Darkness |
Christmas was such a foreign holiday for him, as were many things, like Halloween and Valentine's Day. He had spent most of his life in laboratories and padded flame-resistant cells, his only contact with the outside world being the occasional gossip he'd overhear from those researchers that supervised him. His sense of time was warped and nonexistent, but every year those researchers and scientists would adorn their cubicles and work stations with small, plastic Christmas trees or exchange "Happy Holidays!" with one another. It was all so sickening—the way they could so casually decorate what was essentially an asylum for Juuya. Still, it was their sadistic merriment that told Juuya what time of year it was. Annually, he'd know that time had passed.
