In this world, Magic is Everything. All people, all races, are granted with the power to perform mystical and magical feats via grimories, mystical tomes granted to each and every child on their 15th birthday. Those blessed by the mana can have their names written down in legend.
Shattered Grimoires is the work of the mind(s) of Ardere & Shattered Grimoire's staff. All characters and content are copyright their creators, and may not be replicated without their creators' permission. Black Clover is owned by Yuki Tabata and published by Viz Shonen Jump. All images belong to their original owners. The theme you are currently viewing was made by Eliza of ElizaCodes exclusively for Shattered Grimoires.
Rumors of an old haunted elven temple have emerged and reached the ears of the magic knights. Most recently a family went over to camp by the ruins, but only the youngest daughter returned, crying about horrifying female visages dressed in white…
[attr="class","shadowsSub"]Details
Minimum Number of Players: 1 [break]Minimum Word Count: 2000 [break]Location: Kiten [break]Special Requirements: NA
[attr="class","shadowsSub"]NPC Information
What NPCs are in this mission? Please fill out the template for any notable NPCs. While those you have to socially interact with during the mission are not required any enemy that is presented in the mission must be listed in here. [break][break] Name of NPC: Banshee x 6 per player
[break] [break]Health Limit: Senior [break]Physical Speed: 15 m/s [break]Physical Damage: Junior [break]Magic Element and Types: Sound | Sensory [break]Combat Style: He uses his restraining magic to take control of those he wants to show fear to. Also, his physical reinforcement is where he mainly uses for strength and speed buffs. This is for when he needs to handle business himself. [break]Additional Information: NA
Having spent the better part of the last thirty minutes sitting by the same campfire that had been made by the two grave robbers that were responsible for this whole fiasco, Griswold’s wound had finally reached the point where he no longer needed to worry about it tearing if he was forced to run or sprint. Perhaps equally, if not more importantly, his mana stores had fully recharged, meaning now would be as good a time as any to head back into the ruins and retrieve the girls’ family. Holding the white gold staff in his hand, he remembered that he had made two promises that he needed to keep. One to the girl in Kiten, seeing to her family and making sure they made their way over to pick her up and return back home. The other to the elven lord that had been forced to haunt the ruins after his family crypt had been disturbed after the very staff Griswold now held in his hand had been the thing that triggered it all.
Had it not been for the pair of grave robbers, lord Anneamdil and his family would not have been risen from the dead as violent wraiths and banshees, nor would the girls’ family have been sent into the ruins as a means of distraction while the thieves made off with the staff and all sorts of other riches that were still found inside of the ruins and the underlying crypt. Making his way over to the entrance, Griswold already knew exactly what he was going to be be facing once he opened that door. Because when he had been inside of that very same building earlier, he had been faced by two grave robbers that had tricked him into fighting the angry ghosts inside of him, prior to one of those same spirits killing and raising one of them as a flesh eating ghoul. Funnily enough, that same ghoul had managed to murder his friend before Griswold had used his solar magic to cremate them both before the situation would get out of hand.
Shortly after, he retrieved the staff that had been stolen from the crypt, finding that it responded to his elven blood, which temporarily released lord Anneamdil from his curse and allowed him to speak to the magic knight, one elf to another. As it turned out, the staff was placed on a pedestal within the royal crypt, what with it being the main weapon of the elven lord back when he had still been alive. It was however so powerful, that when human hands grabbed hold of it and removed it from the crypt, that the same powerful magic inside of it had cursed those buried within the depths of the ruins to rise from their graves. More importantly, it forced them to remain in the material world until the staff itself was returned, lifting the curse and returning the wraiths and banshees of Anneamdil’s bloodline to their eternal slumber. But with every passing day that they were forced to remain in a world that was no longer theirs, they became more deranged and violent.
Thanks to the staff he was holding temporarily freeing lord Anneamdil from the grap of the curse, Griswold had managed to ensure at least some form of protection as the spirit of the elven lord would do his best to see to the protection of the family of people still being held in the crypt. Now, all Griswold needed to do was make his way through the ruin a second time, descend down into the crypt and return the staff to whatever pedestal it had been taken from to end the curse once and for all. In a way, it was funny how all of these situations were tied together by one single staff, and how it being returned would ensure both of his promises being kept. Shoving the door to the ruins open, he let the light of the sun back in, partially illuminating the main room of the building, one he knew well. As the light made its way in, the first thing he saw was the almost statue-like pair of grave robbers that had tried to get him killed down here, among other criminal offenses they had committed.
Even if one of them had been turned into a ghoul and had been forced to fight his former companion to the death as a means of reclaiming the staff for the elven spirits that dwelled within the building, it still felt as though they had both managed to evade their true punishment. Griswold would have loved to see the lot of them in prison, living out their days in a situation similar to the one they had put the missing family into. Stuck in the same room, not knowing when or if they’d ever get out, knowing that the possibility to remain there until the day of their deaths was looming over their heads. That was the kind of fate he would have wished for them all to have. Just because they died did not mean that they were absolved of their sins. So while he did not exactly believe in any specific afterlife along the lines of a heavenly place for the good souls and a horrific hellscape for those that had only hurt and caused others pain, he hoped that the two of them would find themselves stuck in the latter for all of eternity.
When a female in white, hovering a few inches above the floor pointed her bony little finger at him, he knew exactly what would come next as this was not the first time he had encountered her. Releasing a deafening scream that could quite literally rouse the dead from their slumber, it was a good thing that he had taken precautions by burning the remains of the two grave robbers to a crisp. With nothing there for her to raise into undeath, the only thing the Banshee managed to do was to make the elven mage’s ears hurt. Coalescing his mana into the palm of his hand as he formed a sphere of solar magic, he knew quite well that these entities did not like getting hit with such concentrated mana, nor did they enjoy fire. As he focused his mana, it became quite clear that the scream had in fact managed to rouse some of the dead as the other relatives of Anneamdil rose from the marble floor.
Screaming once more like an orchestra of hate, Griswold’s ears started bleeding as the ringing in his ears intensified. At times like these, having heightened senses was a far cry from a blessing. But that would not keep him from doing what needed to be done. Splitting the sphere in two and feeding mana into it until the both the spheres took on the same size as the original, he launched them both at the five Banshees and Wraiths that were sending an audible attack at him. In mere seconds, the spheres reached their targets and erupted, enveloping them all in an inferno that reached all the way from the floor to the ceiling like a pillar of light and fire. Inside of the torrent of flame, he could see how some of the wraiths dispersed, where as others seemed to just fade away entirely. Unfortunately for the elven mage, he had seen this happen before. There was no telling which of them were destroyed and which had merely retreated.
As such, he would need to stay on his guard as they could just pop back into the fight once they had finished recuperating, or got called right back from the grave by the curse of the staff. Up until now, this had been the hardest situation Griswold had ever been in, and that included the time in which he and another magic knight had gone about fighting a band of Goblins, when he had been put up against wolves and wargs, met with hangry trolls, or the time when a civilian had been torn in half by a psychopathic murderer, only for that murderer to be torn apart by a powerful magic spell cast by his Vice-captain, thus unwillingly and unintentionally bathing him in blood. Truth be told, life had not exactly been all that fair to him, though that had never kept him from trying to make the best out of it for those around him. And with that thought in mind, he pressed on, crossing the main room until he reached the corridor at the far side of it that descended into the crypt.
Above all else, Griswold was afraid that maybe he might have arrived too late, and that the family he had initially been sent to collect might have been already killed by the banshees and wraiths and their remains turned into ghouls that they’d use to reclaim the staff. Given the state most of them had been in, most of their humanity had been overshadowed by the immense hatred caused by being forced to remain in this world. But as the magic knight was descending down the stairs until he reached the final room, the crypt containing the physical remains of Anneamdil’s kin, he could see one last wraith hovering in the room. Behind it, the human family, shivering in fear as they did not know why they were being spared the wrath of the spirits. When the wraith turned to face Griswold, he saw that it was Anneamdil himself, stuck in a state between the rage-corrupted, cursed shape and his uncorrupted form. But not long after he had entered the room did the other wraiths and banshees reappear once more.
“Téigh! Cuir an fhoireann ar an gcosán, saor sinn go léir sula gcaillfidh mé smacht ar mo ghníomhartha arís. (Go! Place the staff on the pedestal, set us all free before I lose control of my actions oncemore.)”
Shocked by the distortion in Anneamdil’s voice, Griswold could tell that there was no time to waste before the elven lord would once again revert to being a wraith driven by hate. With his free hand, Griswold quickly launched a last sphere of flame towards the other wraiths, keeping them from getting to him, or worse, getting to the family of humans. Once he had done so, he pulled a sprint towards the biggest statue built into the wall of the crypt. Believing this to be the pedestal as it was watching over what he could only imagine was Anneamdil’s personal tomb, the fact that the statue itself had also been made out of white gold fit with the design of the staff. And so, he leaped on top of the marble tomb so he could reach the hand of the statue that looked like it used to have held something. Shoving the staff right in there, the statue began radiating with a piercing white light that shone throughout the room.
POWER 40 DURABILITY 0 SENSORY 24 STAMINA 30 CONTROL 20 MANA 100 (60)
Name of Spell: Ignite (Used Twice) Elemental Type: Solar Rank & Spell Type: Intermediate – Attack Creation Range & Speed: 40 meters (20m AoE) - 20 m/s (AoE does not extend out of Max rank range) Mana Cost: 20 mp – 10 mp sustain Stats Effected: +6 to Power Applicable Perks: “Overpowered” Description: A spell that was not so much designed to be used in one on one combat, but rather to limit the amount of terrain advantages one might have over the user. By compressing and firing a small bolt of sunfire similar in appearance to “Firebolt”, this spell either travels its given distance or collides with a solid surface, causing it to erupt in a burst of flame. As it sets flammable terrain, objects and living beings on fire, it can quickly turn a building used by someone to hide or hole up in from a safe haven into a furnace one will want to quickly escape. For every 20 control, the user is capable of firing an additional sphere in the same salvo, thus following the "ammo" rules.
Last Edit: Apr 7, 2021 18:48:33 GMT -5 by Griswold
Almost being too bright for him to see through, he turned his gaze away from the statue itself so he could see what was going on behind him. There, both Anneamdil, as well as the banshees and wraiths he had already killed repeatedly but kept coming back started looking more and more as they had done in life, the curse of the staff disappearing slowly as their sanity returned. As the light dimmed down until there was nothing left, the spirits started to slowly evaporate, leaving nothing behind. As they did, they turned to the frightened family, as well as to Griswold while gesturing at them that they were sorry. Once they had all disappeared, only Anneamdil’s spirit remained in the room, his own strong magic keeping himself from being put back to sleep. From being returned to death and the afterlife that awaited him. It seemed that there was yet something he wished to share with him.
“Páiste oibre den scoth, d’éirigh leat gach rud a d’iarr mé agus níos mó a dhéanamh. Nuair a fhágann tú, scriosfaidh mé an bealach isteach chuig an scairt mar sin b’fhéidir nach dtarlóidh rud mar seo arís. Anois, treoraigh na daoine seo ar ais sa bhaile, bhí siad trí go leor. (Excellent work child, you have managed to do everything I asked and more. When you leave, I will destroy the entrance to the crypt so something like this may never happen again. Now, lead these people back home, they have been through enough.)”
And so, Griswold did exactly as the ancient elven lord had instructed, telling the family of four that it was time for them to leave this place and go to Kiten as their youngest daughter and sister was eagerly awaiting their return. Slowly getting up as they were feeling the result of undernourishment and dehydration, they crawled their way up the stairs and out of the crypt with Griswold’s aid. Once they were out, he looked around to see Anneamdil smiling in their direction, moments before raising his arms and causing the ceiling of the crypt to cave in on top of the opening, making it look as if the place was merely a ruin. No one would even think of looking for a crypt if they did not know that it was actually there, or so the magic knight believed. So as they made their way back to Kiten, which took a surprisingly long time and a lot of breaks, he made it quite clear to them that they should never speak of this again, claiming that they had been captured by grave robbing bandits instead.
The less people that knew about what had happened here, the better, and that was all there was to it in his opinion. Taking as many breaks as they needed so they could return to where their last relative was, it was at times like these that Griswold was somewhat annoyed by the fact that he could not just cast a spell to lift all of these people up and bring them all with him. He could have taken them to Kiten on his broom one by one, though there was no telling what might happen to the others during the time that he was away, and he did not want to risk them falling prey to highwaymen or suddenly falling severely ill due to their rough treatment over the past few days inside of a cold and damp crypt. It was very much the same fate he would have wished for the two grave robbers to have, though clearly fate did not want this for them. So in light of other potential options, Griswold insisted on staying with the family until they were all safely back in Kiten.
Somewhere along the way with the fortress of Kiten up in the distance, the two children, the older brother and sister to the young girl that was already in the city started showing signs of great fatigue. So as a show of good faith towards the parents, as well as to take away some of their fears, he lifted the brother onto his back while holding the sister in his arms. Making the journey quite a bit harder on himself, the magic knight trained every day for situations such as this, so it was nothing that he could not handle. And since the wound to his leg was no longer an issue, it only took them a good forty-five minutes before they finally reached the town. Once there, the guards were quick to lend a hand and help the parents to some beds in the local inn, as well as taking the children out of Griswold’s care too. With the whole family residing within the same in, the youngest daughter that had been waiting for them for almost a full day was overjoyed that everyone had survived the harrowing ordeal.
After a quick hug and a “thank you”, the little girl almost leaped over Griswold and entered into the room with her parents. Closing the door behind them so as to give them a bit of privacy, the fulfilled magic knight went down the stairs and took a seat in the inn. Ordering a pitcher of ale and a rack of ribs, he sank into his chair as he too started to feel the strain of a day that had been hard on him both mentally and physically. He had worked so hard to make sure that this particular family of humans could be reunited again, and equally hard to make sure several elves that had been cursed into a state of undeath due to the careless, greedy hands of humans could be put back to rest. Now that they had all been saved, that did not mean that he was planning on leaving the family just yet, not after all that he had been through to get them here. No, he was going to stay around Kiten until they had recuperated and were ready to make their way back home, wherever that was.
If it were to be a long walk or journey there, he might even insist on coming along to make sure they reached their destination. After all, as a magic knight that rarely ever made his way over to the royal capital for any forms of debriefing or boasting among his peers, he had all the time in the world to do such things. That said, his eyes widened at the sight of his ribs being brought to the table. Almost as soon as it reached the table did he dig in. He had been quite famished after all. As he dug in, some of the guards, as well as some of the others that had seen him dragging in the family took a seat by his table, asking him what had happened.
“Good lord, where to even start with this one… It all started when I heard crying in the streets just a few blocks from here...”
POWER 40 DURABILITY 0 SENSORY 24 STAMINA 30 CONTROL 20 MANA 100 (45)
Name of Spell: Ignite (Used Once) Elemental Type: Solar Rank & Spell Type: Intermediate – Attack Creation Range & Speed: 40 meters (20m AoE) - 20 m/s (AoE does not extend out of Max rank range) Mana Cost: 20 mp – 10 mp sustain Stats Effected: +6 to Power Applicable Perks: “Overpowered” Description: A spell that was not so much designed to be used in one on one combat, but rather to limit the amount of terrain advantages one might have over the user. By compressing and firing a small bolt of sunfire similar in appearance to “Firebolt”, this spell either travels its given distance or collides with a solid surface, causing it to erupt in a burst of flame. As it sets flammable terrain, objects and living beings on fire, it can quickly turn a building used by someone to hide or hole up in from a safe haven into a furnace one will want to quickly escape. For every 20 control, the user is capable of firing an additional sphere in the same salvo, thus following the "ammo" rules.
