Throughout his years of travel Sir Jorge, Praetor, The Blight of monsters has crossed many beings. Both human and monster alike have suffered due to his actions and many have cursed his name, swearing vengeance against him. And so he has spent much of his life alone not wanting to bring others around him into conflict. But one being managed to get to him. One mamono through all odds managed to get close to him, managed to live with him... managed to capture his affection. As time passed they learned a great degree of each other. And with that knowledge grew their trust. Wich grew into a closeness. Wich grew into a desire. But due to his duty, due to the self inflicted curse, he could not bear children or marry until his duty was done. Due to this every attempt to marry, every attempt to court, date, or procreate would be fuitless. The dying goddess that resided within him would subconsciously influence the object of his affection to turn him down and such when he attempted to marry the shoggoth she refused him. She stated that it was not right for a champion to marry his servant and that his duty was more important . Disheartened he left for an extended period of time in an attempt to clear his mind and grow closer to his goal of slaying the demon lord and freeing himself of his self inflicted curse.
And so it was and so it shall be, Jorge shall continue to roam the lands and slowly further his plan to depose the current demon lord, be free of his duty and finally indulge in his base desires. No, he is not as selfless as he seems. He is but human and like most humans he does what he does for his intrest. And it was after one of these outings that this tale starts. Though now it must be noted that he has more or less an adopted family, two shoggoth daughters and a living armor. And should anything happen to them, should anyone harm his family, they would know his wrath. An thus our tale begins when our brave champion returns home after an particularly violent excursion.
Jorge walks down the path to his home, the evening sun giving the entire countryside a warm and orange tint . He stops for a moment to admire the beauty of Whitemarch and leans on the wooden fence that seperates the road from the fields of grain and grass. He lets out a loud sigh and removes his helmet, placing it on a nearby fence post.
"I could get used to this... Though it would be better if I could share this with a special someone."
Should you finish your quest you would not be in this situation.
"I'm working on it. I just need time and funds to make it work. Besides, we need someone to fill the power vaccum that killing the Demon Lord will create. I don't want someone like Druella taking hold of the reigns.
You should return home. Now.
"Oh? Why are you so eager for me to go home? You're usually glad when I'm not around family, them being mamono and all." Jorge looks to his right and sees a ghostly woman standing next to him. She turns to face him then completely fades away revealing to him his home, dark and seemingly empty. A chill runs down his spine and he quickly collects his helmet and makes his way home.
"Alright what's going on?" "Come on... Tell me what's going on!" There is silence on the godess's side as Jorge quickens his pace. "I swear, one of these days I'm going to find a way to force you to talk!"
Jorge's pace quickens once more to a near sprint, dropping the items he was carrying and making his way home. He stops at the door and listens. "Nothing" Then triesthe door. "Locked... -Sigh- Thank goodness." Jorge reaches for the chain around his neck and pulls out his keys. He lets out another deep breath of relief as the key unlocks his door. He gladly opens the door only to be greeted by the scent of ozone and burnt food. He is all to familiar with this scent, the scent of a dead slime. He slams the door open and is treated to the sight of the foyer impeccably clean save for a puddle of lavander slime.
"No..." The knight whispers to himself as he carefully makes his way to the puddle. The puddle is disturbed by an armored finger wich is quickly brings a sample of the slime up to Jorge's nose. He takes a deep whiff of the colored substance and angrily mutters. "Cherry blossom.." This was his daughter's scent. Nezon was quite the odd one, as a child she refused to eat any food. But she was quite fond of eating flowers. Particularly cherry blossoms, and thus her peculiar diet gave her a natural perfume, and this perfume mingled with the scent of ozone.
He dons his helmet and pulls out his blighted dagger, carved from Druella's horn. His movements are slow and deliberate. He crouches low as he moves, hiding behind furniture that should not be able to hid him, moving silently despite the metal nature of his armor. As he turns around the corner the scent of cherry blossoms and ozone grows stronger along with another scent. "Lavander? Kathra..." His sucpicions are then justified as most of the furniture in the living room was strewn about. Some of it is completely destroyed while other pieces are slashed and broken. Not wanting to fall into a trap he quickly hids behind a overtunrned sectional and focuses. His senses are hightend extremely, his nose is overwhelmed with the smell of flowers, ozone, magical metal, fruits... and dry sweat. Then he hears it. A light cracklng and popping in the fire... place.
The heavily armored knight barrels over the sofa and charges forward and finds nothing in the room. No traps, no blood, no hidden hostiles, only the odd puddle of slime. He cautiously makes his way to the fireplace, the sizzling becomes louder and he is filled with a deep and seething range as he is overwhelmed with the smell of cherry blossoms and ozone. The scent is oddly comforting and mocking as he has been away from Nezon for quite some time, but now the scent of one so close and dear to him only brings sorrow and loathing. The edge of his vile dagger shakes violently but soon steadies as he makes his way to the next room completely abandoning all stealth and subtlety.
Jorge makes his way up the stairs as he follows the scent of lavander, fruit and magic. His armored boots stomp loudly as he stalks down the halls. His teeth grind, his fist shakes with fury, and he kicks open the door to his room to find two puddles of colored slime, each one a different color. Then to the right of them a pile of broken chainmail.
There is no other being in your home. I can no longer sense the presence of your family. Whomever did this is long gone... My condolences fair champion, I assume you wish to-
"I don't want to hear it... I don't want to hear... I want to be left alone... I... I..."
You do understand that we are bound and thus cannot-
"Go!"
The ghastly female figure slowly fades away once more as the knight collapses before the remains and silently sobs in his massive and heavy armor.
It's night now, if he's going to find whoever did this he's going to need to get the local authorities involved. But what can they do? There is only so much magical tracking can do, but there is a chance that they can give him a lead. And so he sets off on his journey for vengeance, but first a memento. In four small vials he collects small amounts of slime, one for Nezon, Kathra, Rhun and one for the broken chainmail of Aabi. He tucks the vials in a small hard case then stows it safetly away. He walks into the stable, a dark aura shrouds him as he makes his way to his now deceased mount.
I may be able to revive your mount, but it will-
"No. Let her rest... I know someone who can get me into town faster."