Class - Possessor
Location - Polar Station
Item - Catapult
might be willing to in this later, wonât have time to write a story this week unless i procrastinate hard on my studying
Itâs okay if I post the story in another thread right? Iâll post the link here for judges to see.
@eevee
https://forum.imperium42.com/t/usual-business-king-of-the-restroom-fanfiction/78512?u=damafaud
Here you go
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I might make mine in the format of a script of some cheesy action flick. Iâm gonna make all the one-liners
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She had known a many good deed.
Yet when the corruption took root, she was one of the fallen.
She knows not of common sense. She knows not of deceit. She only knows to do the one and only, serve. Seeking information to spread the influence of a vile god.
And today is the most important day of her life. It was her time of coming, to act as an offering to the gods.
âHaha⌠Take me! Mithras! Take my essence to grant us the power to scatter the fools who do not see your glory as the Only One!â
And the next thing she knew⌠a blinding light enveloped her eyes. It was beautiful, beyond anything she had seen.
ââŚâ
She bolted upward, looking around her. Around she saw a horrific sight; an unfamiliar room with 4 beds and a door. The bed across from hers had a man sitting up, reading a book. He was none other than the late Prince, Aeneas. The two other beds had men tapping into the air for some things.
The Prince looked up, and simply closed his book. âWell Lydia, could you wear some proper clothing? That is not befitting of you.â
Lydia? That made things more confusing.
âWhere are we?â She snapped. She looked down at herself⌠and it only then came to her attention that she was wearing a two piece.
âWhere are we? My, my, this is the retirement home just across the street. You should know it well.â
âYes. Indeed. I do.â She lied. She stood up and smiled. The things she could do in the afterlife, to fulfil her duty to Mithras. âYou know⌠why donât we just stay here, AeneasâŚâ
Her princess mannerisms from her life as a princess. They were bound to help her into the right track to assimilate into the world and stay hidden.
Yet the man put down his book, and sighed.
âGuys, we have a code yellow here.â
The two other men spun around.
âCode Yellow? The hell is that?â
Wait⌠is this really the afterlife? Where was she really? And who was Lydia?
No matter. She had the powers granted from Mithras. Surely Mithras will destroy all of them in a fraction of a second.
âYou may know the truth, but I call up- Ugoh?â
âSheâs displaying the cultist tell-tale signs. Call gramps, idiots!â
Boy it wasnât pretty. She struggled with all her might against Aeneas. But she couldnât break free. As expected of the prince himself.
An old man walks into the room. As she struggled against Aeneas, the old man takes a look at her.
âThe po0r l4ss is influenced by the dr34m g4me. R0FL. Sh3âll be f1ne, just need ta-â
The Seeker wasnât going to pay attention to all that. She was going to unleash the full power of Mithras onto all of them. They will worship his might as well.
Aeneas let out a scream of pain as she bit into his arm. As if she was a barking, raving dog, she held on tight. Of course he let go. She stood up in a triumph. The old man rushed out of the room with the other men and locked the door.
âThey have gone, but you will be first, Prince Aeneas!â The seeker cackled in delight, licking her lips. In a fervant prayer, she âblastedâ her magic onto Aeneas in the afterlife.
No⌠Mithras? Why didnât anything appear? Wasnât she the offering? Why wasnât she empowered as well as favour to the god?
âDamn it Lydia! Stop this! Youâre scaring me!â
Aeneas lunged forward, and tackled her to the ground with an embrace.
ââŚâ
Huh? Lydia⌠That⌠that was her name.
She wasnât getting crushed nor restrained. She was never attacked. It reminded her of someoneâŚ
Someone⌠like himâŚ
Aeneasâs face came to mind. But the name that appeared in her mind was different. JoshâŚ
Oh god. What had she done?
âJ-Josh?â
âOh⌠thank god youâre back⌠damn itâŚâ
âTold ya she be fine. LMAO.â Said the old man, walking in.
âSheâs definitely not alright!â
Thatâs right⌠they were at the beach playing with the rest of the gang. Then Josh wanted to visit his grandpa as the home was nearby. The old man then made them try some sort of weird helmet contraption.
âItâs d3f0 s4f3!â Said the old man before they tried it on.
âIâm so sorry, Josh⌠does that hurt? W-what have IâŚâ
Lydia pauses, before turning to face the old man with a frown that spoke no liesâŚ
âYou know, you have some explaining to do.â
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I didnât edit, nor check for any grammar mistakes. Iâm screwed on that part but its nearing 1am here so imma sleep now. Nighties.
I hope this looks like historical document shit
Summary
Expedition of Sancta Lucia, 16th December of 1640.
To your Beatitude, Patriarch Eclecto of Castelo Branco, following the formalties of Justo LĂpsio.
And to the sixth month of expedition, we first searched through the sea capitanies, although expulsed from the lands by the donee captains and dutchmen who fest over the place. It is in our belief the witch was there welcomed, and that she would get to know if we pleaded to his majesty, the King, first than the captains themselves.
The expedition then appealed to the divine right of His Holiness, Urban VIII, and the possibility of being excomungated from the church. We gained free pass on the independent state of MaranhĂŁo, our search efforts there proving themselves unfruitful.
It is of urgence to send troops to the land of CearĂĄ, ItamaracĂĄ, Pernambuco where the dutch have bought the loyalty of the land owners. The captaincy of IlhĂŠus has been showing to keep steady, its six engines still working and loyal to the crown, the attacks of the natives of ill heart having stopped.
In the captaincy of EspĂrito Santo, a force of four hundred dutch men was repelled in VitĂłria by the forces of the captain-mor JoĂŁo Dias Guedes. We were allowed to enter their territory and there to search for the witch. They were again, unfruitful results.
The church was welcomed without having to appeal for the holyness of our mission in the captaincies of Count of Monsanto and the Countess of Vimieiro, where our forces were split. I kept myself searching alone in the captaincy of Santana, to discover both the nobles of SĂŁo Vincente were the ones keeping cover for the witch.
Attacked for justice to be done my appeal to the Lord of Santana, the witch gained knowledge of my existence and fled with a teleporting spell. But the evil fool forgot behind a toilet brush, which I could use to track her localization by the use of the Silvernight Spell.
In Santana and SĂŁo Vincente I have reunited a group of infants, none of them half my age, both missionaries and expeditionaries, to continue the hunt for the sorceress who made her majesty, the Queen, fall deadly ill.
In about 500 leagues we entered the Amazon rainforest. The indigenous people of the rainforest have shown varied reactions to our presence. The good-spirited folk, followers of Our Lord and Savior, have regressed to their primitive ways of war, but shielded us against our enemies for recognition of the monastic wardrobe. They spoke in a pilgrim dialet much like portuguese, each one in a different variations from their original languages.
We have there baptized the children who were recently born, discovering that the jesuitic conversion resources still pass on there once or twice a year to allow them to meet Our Lord and Savior. And staying there and slowly moving giving out masses, one of my young followers have turned his back on us, ordering the inquisitive force to leave, saying they were a better christian than myself although not stranged from sin, and there came the new sons and daughters of the Lord with their weapons, banishing the church from their tribe, their loyalty straying away from god for motives unknown.
In other tribes however we were met with straight on heresy and distrust, when not outright attacked, although the rituals of Falling Dusk have helped me much on seeking for safe ways with more allies than foes.
A month on and I have found out the spellplane was being adultered, the rituals of Falling Dusk and Silvernight Spell making me wander on circles. The witch was much more powerful than predicted and the traitor infant previously narrated was already on her influence. Reencountering him, we have found out he had on his entrails a walking bomb, being then bilbred by the warlock at her will.
The subject of our following has demonstereed not only to be a mere herbalist but as well a dedicated and powerful sorcerer, mastering over the spellplane to throw off balance the spellcasting of the holy church. We have returned to the state of MaranhĂŁo, where I now write this letter to plead for your assistance on convincing his majesty, the King, on the importance and difficulties not only of our holy cruzade, but also by the people who fest over this land, giving out gifts to the slaveowners make their loyalty stray from the portuguese crown.
My condolences and pleadings,
Deacon Father AntĂ´nio da Costa.
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