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.
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[attr="class","shadowsHead"] The Headless Horseman Rides Tonight!!
In the middle of night at the darkest hour, there have been deadly attacks in the Noble Region. Someone or something is attacking the nobles and to make matters worse there has yet to be a true accurate description of who or what is behind these attacks. But what has been stated so far is that this being rides on horseback and most importantly it is headless! Some refuse to believe such nonsense, but the more frequent the attacks the more panicked people are becoming. More people are confessing to seeing a large male figure with no head, clad in black armor riding a horse in the thickest of fogs. Is it some kind of illusion? A trick? Perhaps some kind of weird and odd creation that escaped Babel. Maybe an angry mage making use of a horrific transformation spell. Or is it something else entirely? Whoever is up to the task, please figure it out and put an end to this Headless Horseman.
[break]
[attr="class","shadowsSub"]Details
Maximum Number of Players: 4
[break]Minimum Word Count: 3,000
[break]Location: Noble Region
[break]Special Requirements: There is an old man with a cottage right at the entrance of the Noble Region, who claims to see when the horseman rides into town at night. It's important that you speak to this person to find out any details you can on this being.
[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 here.
[break]Additional Information: Many people in town believe Senior Burton to be crazy and out of his mind, but his words speak true. He knows the truth behind the Horseman, the truth that it is not a trick or illusion but that he is very real. He will refer to the Horseman as the Dullahan, a evil spirit known to terrorize the selfish and greedy people in Clover. The Dullahan was once a man, a noble one who was betrayed by his closest friends and comrades in order to require more riches for themselves. So now he comes back to seek revenge on those that have wronged him, and any that gets in it's way.
[break]Magic Element and Types: Mist & Shadow | Attack Creation, Sensory & Golem Creation
[break]Combat Style: The Horseman is a strong being and not to be taken lightly. When it first approaches it will always be on it's large black horse made of mist and shadow one of it's golem creation spells. It will uses mist illusions to try and hide it's presence when it attacks or is making long strides and charges. It also isn't shy about getting up close and personal as well, using it's elements to create large weapons like swords, chains, and axes to wield in battle. It will also use it's golem creation spells to create knights in black armor to also attack it's targets. (All methods of it's combat style must be represented in the thread)
[break]Additional Information: The Dullahan is a large male shaped figured that stands at 6'9. It's clothes and armor are all black and dark grey. It will always be seen riding it's horse and carrying a weapon of some sort with it's corresponding elements. It's horse is very large and also all black, because it is a golem it is also capable of attacking so be careful! At first the horseman would make a nearby noble it's main target, but once it is threatened it will put it's sole focus on whoever is trying to stop it. Also it's headless!
Whispered rumors thought to be the mad ravings of an old fool had made their way through word of mouth to Mania. Though there was some merit behind the far-fetched tale, it sounded incredibly like delusion. Nobles within the region were accosted by a mysterious figure beneath the umbral night sky. There were mixed messages on the assailant.
The scarce pieces of information that were consistent from the victim's testimony all sang a very eerie, similar tune. A black, headless knight atop a midnight mare. It was the stuff of fantasy Mania mused as he pondered the thought. The rogue was on his way to a cottage at the entrance of the Noble Region. It was there that the rumor began its circulation throughout the region. The old fool in question was named Irving Burton and it would be through him that Mania would gain a clearer understanding of the mystery afoot. It was dusk, the sun hanging low in the sky as the darkness would soon encroach upon the day. Mania had spent a great deal of time traveling here, all in the pursuit of mystery. Mania adored puzzles and mind games, mental activities that could pull the rogue from his sometimes dark and uncontrollable thoughts.
They were a good way for him to distract himself from his perpetually, daunting reality. The cool autumn air nipped at his naked ears and face, telling signs of winter's approach. The cold always reminded Mania of home. No matter how much time would pass, Mania could never forget the icy wastelands of Spade Kingdom. Mania would stop along the way, asking some passerby for directions, just to be sure he was headed the right way. Many of the people had ignored the rogue as they would look at Mania with distrustful eyes. The rogue would simply shrug his shoulders, continuing along the dirt path the young rogue was close to the entrance of the Noble Region, where he assumed the cottage was.
Burying his hands in the pockets of his long, brown coat Mania would eye a single cottage in the distance. Hopefully, it would be the correct spot he thought as he increased his gait steadily. From experience Mania knew he more than likely wouldn't be the only person interested in this mystery. Surely it would attract the attention of others with a penchant for adventure, the only question though would be who? Given how high profile the area was Mania had a hunch the Magic Knights would be dispatched, but even if that was the case he was still a small fish in a large ocean. The rogue barely had any reputation in Clover still so he was sure he could blend if needed - like a chameleon.
Perhaps it would be someone he knew? Mania had a penchant for running into "Shorty", though this wasn't really her speed he thought for a moment. Having a small laugh mentally, Mania would shelf the thoughts as he approached.
"Another day, another mystery to solve. What would the good folk of Clover do If I didn't lend a helping hand?~"
Mania cooed musically aloud, followed by a cheerful whistle chirping from his pressed lips.
Feeling a chill in the air that crawled up his spine, the swordsman clad in black wondered whether it was actually caused by his surroundings or by his own response to said surroundings. After all, he found himself in the noble realm, which was the one place Griswold loathed more than any other. It was the kind of place that was overly ripe with decadence and riches, as well as proof that the caste system of the land of Clover was not working one bit. Or rather, it worked for the stupidly rich, but it did not really work out well for everyone else, meaning it was a broken system. Truth be told, Griswold understood quite well why people from the forsaken and even common regions might stoop to a life of crime as it was more rewarding than dancing to the whims of nobles who would sooner use their wealth to erect some large party over helping those in need.
Down south, vanity was the name of the game, as one person was wearing even more flamboyant gowns and suits than the person standing next to them, as each one spoke as though they themselves were the king and queen of the country. It was truly sickening when Griswold had to hear these people talking about themselves and their belongings, as that was the one thing they cared about the most at the end of the day: their own relatives and their belongings. While not all nobles were this way, and some nobles have even put in some seriously good work for the poor and the needy, that did not mean for a second that this caste system and separation of rich and poor worked out for everyone. As such, it was something he was going to be hating until the end of his days, and would curse with his dying breath.
So when he heard that there was something amiss that had not been solved yet outside of his home region, the forsaken realm, Griswold had initially ignored it. As it were, he had his hands quite full with this time of year and how it affected the world around him. A Leshen being at war with a farmer in the outskirts, Imps plaguing Aries Garse, a forest manor filled with Wights, a peculiar and fun carnival during the day turning into some kind of depraved slaughterhouse after midnight, and the list went on. That said, when it turned out that this strange problem was still quietly continuing by the time he had rounded up all of those other problems, he felt somewhat similar emotions to the ones he had experienced during that same summer. But that was besides the point and not really important right now.
What was important that during his short time in the south, he had managed to figure out where to go to find someone with some modicum of knowledge as to the goings on in the nearby “town”. While the place was called a town due to the size not quite being that of a city, the scope of it was like nothing that could be compared to any actual towns in the forsaken region. It was quite clear that every single resident here had more money than they could ever hope to spend in a single lifetime, which was why it likely bothered them quite a bit that some of them had been systematically getting murdered by what some called a headless knight. Seemingly coming and going as it pleased before in turn disappearing into the knight as if he had never been there, leaving only a bloody trail behind, but one man seemed to be in the know about it.
Apparently living on the outskirts of town himself, he claimed to have seen the man appearing on horseback, riding into town and killing but a single person whenever it rode in. Luckily for the town, riding in and out had not been something this person or specter or whatever it was had done frequently, meaning the body count was still quite low. That, and as it turned out, the only people that had been murdered were all related to the same family, which seemed quite normal if the culprit were in fact just a human mage pretending to be a headless knight. So as he approached the place where this man was supposed to be living, he imagined he would get at least some answer to the questions he had soon enough.
Mania would reflexively glance back, the unmistakable presence of powerful mana nearby was a great cause of concern. Almost absentmindedly Griswold would pass by him. It was as if the Black Bulls Magic Knight was deep in contemplation and the outside world had been drowned of all its sound and stimuli. "That's some serious focus..." Mania mused, feeling a bit disrespected the man hadn't even offered him a cursory glance.
Much like the pompous nobles that fattened their egos with avarice and self sang praise. Mania would steal a glance at the powerful mage, his gait would come to a slow crawl. Griswold stopped just outside the house of Irving Burton, Mania raising a brow as his mind worked connecting the dots. More than likely Griswold was pursuing the same query as the blue-haired rogue himself. Mania had surmised the black-clad Magic Knight was here to see to the end of the headless horseman rumor. The cheerful whistling would cease and the quiet still ambiance of the night would return. Griswold was a heavily armed, broad-shouldered man from what Mania gleaned thanks to his prior observation. The rogue didn't particularly like the Magic Knights, but figured, Griswold could prove mightily useful in solving the case.
Mania would pick up the pace, catching up to the Magic Knight before he had the chance to knock on the front door.
"Anyone home there big guy?~"
Mania would casually call out to Griswold, once more disturbing the silent atmosphere. The rogue would be beside Griswold now, one hand in his pocket whilst waving his hand to place emphasis on his words. They both stood before the front entrance to the humble abode, Mania walking onto the porch would knock three times.
"I gather you're here to solve the mystery of the headless horseman, Magic Knight?"
The word "Magic Knight" rolled off his tongue as if it were poison. Truthfully, Mania had posed a rhetorical question as he was already quite sure his hypothesis rang true. Before a fourth knock could be made the senior Burton would crack the door, peaking outside into the night before pulling it slightly more ajar.
"Are you lot mad, didn't you hear me say that the Dullahan will strike tonight! I spent all day in the town square warning, you people. Little good that did me huh?"
"He definetly fits the part of crazy old kook..."
Mania would gesture towards Griswold, his Black Bulls mantle would offer much-needed clarity to the situation.
"Dullahan you said? We're actually here to put an end to these baseless rumors~"
One would think the rogue was trying to get a rise out of the old man the way he refuted Burton's claims so nonchalantly. Their guess would have been correct, the rogue figured Burton's lips would be amicable to being easily loosened should he push him a bit.
"Young folk is all the same, how many times must I profess that what I'm saying is nothing but the truth! I've seen him with my own eyes. Come in, once you hear this story you'll believe, You'll have no choice!"
The senior Burton would open the door, welcoming the two inside his cottage, to which Mania happily obliged. Was there truly merit to his claims? He lacked any true proof to substantiate such a farfetched story. That much was evident by the lack of Magic Knights sent to tackle the murder of nobles happening within the small town. The rogue would decide for himself, the only thing he trusted was what his two eyes showed him.
Looking into the building, the guy that asked him whether or not he saw someone was more than likely going to be let down by the answer he had to give, as he was not entirely sure yet. Not directly seeing someone, Griswold wasn’t exactly looking to find the man, rather to get a bit of an idea as to what kind of person they were to be dealing with. A home often had a lot to tell about the owner, though there was not a whole lot to be gained in this particular case. Turning his attention away from the windows and towards the other guy, he nodded as he had managed to pinpoint a faint amount of mana that was nothing to be writing home about. Still, there was no questioning the fact that someone was in there. Not needing to knock or anything as the other guy was quite pushy about it, it wasn’t long before the door opened a bit.
Showing an old man that instantly berated them for being outside, he had apparently been going around town, letting all know that the “Dullahan” as he called it was going to ride again tonight. While the name Dullahan was quite new to the man, he imagined that it was just a different word or maybe even the name they had given to this supposed headless horseman that was responsible for the killings. If it were to in fact be some kind of headless horseman, that meant the thing he was after was likely an undead or a specter of some kind, which might complicate things a bit. On the other hand, it would mean that he would not have to stoop to capturing and taking another bloody human to jail, which was arguably worse.
“I can assure you of one thing, that being the fact that this “Dullahan” will not be killing anyone again after tonight. I’ve dealt with other creatures and beings people like to call monsters because they don’t believe in them and refuse to understand them, so trust me when I say that I believe you.”
And that was more or less the long and short of it in his opinion. He had dealt with dryads, werewolves, lesser demons, living statues and vampires up until this point, not to mention wraiths, ghouls and wights, so drawing the line at the possibility of a headless horseman running around without doing the proper investigating first was nothing short of stupid. So if this man claimed to have seen something like a Dullahan, Griswold imagined it was worth while to just roll with it for the time being, until he could either be proven right or wrong. When the man opened up his home to them, he however had to decline the offer for the time being. Turning his attention to the other guy that seemed to have some kind of stake in all of this, the swordsman only had so much to say.
“I have some things I need to do in town, things I need to check up on while we wait for this Dullahan to strike again. While I am gone, feel free to inform this guy of all the things you deem useful for the investigation. Anything that might tell us where it comes from, where it goes, early warning signs, anything.”
Believing this would give the talkative fellow that seemed like he had beef with magic knights something to do that was not tied to talking. Instead, it was quite the opposite, as this would require him to actually have to sit down and listen to whatever this old man had to give them. As was usually the case with these eager rookies, they wanted to just go in somewhere, spells blazing and swords slicing until their target was dead and they could claim their purse of yul. For Griswold personally, dealing with these kinds of threats were about more than just cutting down the supposed antagonist and get his money before hitting the road again for the next issue elsewhere. Having seen the evil in humanity time and time again, there was always a chance that there were people who appeared like the victims while they were merely duping the monster.
While quite rare, Griswold was always a bit more on edge when dealing with nobles, as they were the kind of people that had more to protect than their lives and their people, as they had a reputation to uphold, wealth to maintain and more. It was a difference as big as day and night between the issues the forsaken inhabitants had, which was why he could not risk treating them the same. So as he had told the old man to take all of his information to the other that had arrived at roughly the same time as he had, Griswold himself wandered away towards the town. Once he had found what he was looking for, he would be back to learn what had been discussed.
Because of Griswold's response, Mania insinuated that he had experience in fighting monsters - creatures that stalked the night and otherworldly supernatural phenomena. Mania himself had only come across imps for the first time not too long ago, so he was still quite skeptical of the lurking fear that went bump in the night. The old man would let the two inside, Griswold appeared much more occupied with surveying the humble abode.
Mania himself would take a seat and casually glance around the room. There wasn't anything of particular note inside, just what one would expect to be kept within a home. Griswold would say he had things to do within town and leave Mania alone to pick the brain of the senior Burton. Mania wouldn't refuse, though he did let out a loud sigh and waved the Magic Knight off. Griswold came off as distant and a man of very few words unless he felt the need to speak. Mania didn't dislike people such as him, but he would question if the man had any notable social skills to speak of. There was a thin line that separated individuals who had a distaste for casual conversation and those that mostly avoided the company of others. The rogue didn't have enough information to make an informed hypothesis though he was leaning towards the aforementioned.
While Griswold was off doing whatever it was he needed to do, Mania spent that time equally listening and actively asking the right questions so that he could have something to report to Griswold when he returned. From his talk with Burton, Mania found out the Dullahan only attacked the nearby town and also would only attack nobles directly linked to the lineage of a family known in town as the Edwards. He would also go into detail about the corrupt noble family. It was clear to Mania that the senior Burton had some history with the Edwards by the way he spoke. Apparently, the Dulluhan was the wraith or specter of a man who had met an unfortunate demise at the hands of the noble family. He sought vengeance from beyond the grave on the Edwards who wronged him greatly in life.
After gaining all the information he thought would satisfy Griswold Mania would assure the old man that he and the Magic Knight would put the Dullahan back to rest and save the worthless Edwards. If the story was true Mania thought the Dullahan had the right to seek its revenge, but that notion would likely not satisfy the noble people in town and Griswold as well. Walking outside the home Mania would light a cigarette and wait. Griswold would return shortly thereafter, the cigarette was almost done, Mania would pull hard and discard it as the Magic Knight approached.
"Welcome back~"
Mania coolly proclaimed as he buried his hands within the pockets of his pants.
"Apparently the Dullahan has been attacking every other night. He rides into town atop a black mare and searches for the blood of a noble family named the Edwards. Stands to reason should we go to town and either follow or actively protect the Edwards that we should be able to confront the Dullahan. The old guy says this Dullahan is a ghostly creature that wants revenge on these nobles. Can't say I really blame em~"
Mania would finish his report, and wait for Griswold to offer his thoughts upon the situation. Everything appeared simple enough, find the Edwards, you find the Dullahan. Though it begged to ask if the Edwards knew that they were the ones being targeted by the headless horseman?
The moment Griswold had left the old man’s house on the outskirts, he had ventured into this town to get a good look around for himself. It was always important to get a good lay of the land when preparing for a battle that was just waiting to happen. Whether this was truly some undead being or just a mage in disguise, the more he knew about the place where the fight might be taking place, the more it would put him at an advantage. Checking the streets and the general area around the place where several of the attacks had happened, it was not long before someone came out of their home and approached Griswold. Claiming to be aware of who he was, the black swordsman could not say the same, though he imagined it would at the very least speed the conversation along. And so it did, as him not having to explain why a peasant was up here to some snooty noble saved him plenty.
As it turned out, the attacks that had been happening had constantly been affecting the same family, though no one knew why. Some believed the family might quite literally have some skeletons in their closet, others believed it to be some sort of revenge against the family due to the way in which they did their business. Apparently being quite cut-throat in their business, it made Griswold wonder if they maybe meant that literally, and whether that was the reason why there happened to be a vengeful ghost roaming about that lacked a head and only targeted people from a specific family. It made him think about himself, and about how he would more than likely have chosen to come back as an angry spirit over going to whatever afterlife people believed in, just so he could continue punishing the wicked. He could however imagine how most would not choose this path, or there would likely be a whole lot more undead skulking about.
When he asked if the man had any more information to offer on the family, all he could really tell him was the amount of people that had already been claimed by the spirit, and that there were not a whole lot of them left. Right now, all that remained were the mother, the oldest daughter and the oldest son, as the father and the two younger sons had already been dragged through the streets and killed by the Dullahan. If it turned out that all of this indeed had something to do with business gone wrong and people had to pay for it with their lives, he would have liked to have a word with the Dullahan to make sure. Being rather Old Testament about his dealings with humans, Griswold was a firm believer in punishing people in the same way they had they had wronged someone else. So if it were to be a case of murder, he would not have had any beef with the Dullahan killing whoever had initially killed him.
Thanking the man for his time, Griswold returned to the outskirts, seeing if both the man and the other guy were still around. For however much it was worth, he had at least managed to figure out some things that would be useful to the eventual conclusion of this endeavour, or so he believed.
----------------------
Arriving back at the house, it seemed that his arrival had been anticipated, what with the guy wasting no time to speak to him. Though he appeared quite casual with his hands in his pockets, Griswold could tell that there was a certain eagerness there, though he could not tell whether it was in regards to this “mission” or due to something else. What he could tell Griswold however more or less checked out with the information he had been able to get in town with regards to how this was a horseman that had struck repeatedly against the same family. Claiming it wanted revenge against them according to the old man, there was a very big chance that the reasons that had been brought up might in fact be on point, and that this Edwards family had brought it upon themselves. Bringing his hand to his chin and stroking his beard, it was visibly clear that he was mulling over all of the information before coming with a response.
“That checks out with what I’ve managed to gather in town… hmm.. I already figured out the location of the Edwards family estate, so it might be worth stopping by the place. While I don’t expect them to be even remotely forthcoming with any useful information that might incriminate them, something about this whole thing stinks..”
Continuing to ponder on the whole ordeal, he turned around and began wandering back to town. One way or the other, they had to figure out what was going on around here, as he did not want to be one of those half-baked knights that strolled into town, murdered a monster or beast and called it quits so they could get paid. No, if this was an issue that had deeper running roots, he wished to drag them all out of the earth and keep them from growing in deeper and making the whole town stink in the process. And obviously, Griswold would not be Griswold if he just went about announcing that he was going to be wandering away. In his mind, the other guy would just follow him without having to ask, or he could just stay and wait here where it was safe.
Griswold had apparently been a very busy Magic Knight. Mania listened intently as he inhaled the tobacco of his cigarette. Griswold had done a lot already, having ascertained the location of the Edwards family as well as gathering some other tidbits of information useful to the mystery of the headless horseman. Once he finished responded Mania would discard the cigarette, stomping out the faintly glowing ember.
"Lead the way~"
The rogue replied coolly.
--
The trip back into the town was silent, and though some of the noble residents didn't heed the senior Burton's warning; it appeared most had as the streets were awfully empty. Even for this time of night Mania mused as he glanced about. Griswold had led the pair to an estate that was nestled at the northernmost part of town, atop a gated hill the regal mansion stood out in all its imperial glory. Made a man wonder how one family could come to own so much wealth, but the rogue had his suspicions given the information from Burton he had received? There was no doubt that the Edwards family had been embroiled in some shady business, that much was unequivocally clear to Mania. He and Griswold would breach the threshold of the Edwards estate, going through the gate and towards the foyer.
The rogue was sure that if he had come alone that the Edwards would have simply dismissed the commoner who operated as a rogue and rightfully so. People such as Mania weren't typically regarded with such kindness, even when they were inclined to help. Truthfully, Mania wouldn't mind letting the Dullahan seek its righteous vengeance. It would rid the world of a stain it did not need, but such thoughts would likely garner the ire of the people. Not that the rogue cared in the slightest. Ringing the doorbell, it would carve the silent ambiance and before long a weary-looking maid would answer. The heavy bags in her eyes were pronounced and the maid's clothing appeared disheveled. Mania would wave at her, his visage an amalgam of intrigue and stoicism. The family didn't deserve Mania's pity, but he could tell she was being worked to the bone. No doubt the Edwards were very aware of what was going on as they hid within their mansion.
"If you don't mind me and my associate would like to have a word with Ms. Edwards. We know that she is probably still in mourning, but it's imperative we speak."
The maid offered Mania a wry look as he gestured to his tall dark Magic Knight friend. It was a good thing the nobles at least respected them to some capacity; otherwise, Mania would probably have been turned away. The maid looked confused and apprehensive as she studied the two men.
"Milady hasn't been feeling well, but I shall let her know that two visitors want to see her."
The maid would show Mania and Griswold into the estate, as she went to fetch the master of the mansion. Hands buried within his pockets Mania would look around the large foyer and though the inside was pristine it appeared very lacking given the mansion's beautiful appearance. It seemed things had been hard on the Edwards lately. This insight gleaned by Mania had his mind racing. Exactly what sort of skeletons had the Edwards been keeping in their closet? The maid returned with Ms. Edwards, though she also arrived with the eldest son. They too appeared weary, heavy bags beneath their eyes as if they had not slept in days. Since Mania had become acquainted with the Black Bulls Magic Knight, he had been a man of very few words. So the rogue would initiate the conversation first, hoping his compatriot would back him up as he saw fit.
The rogue doubted he would glean much information or cooperation given the disparity in their social standings, but a man could at least try.
"We're so sorry to disturb you and your family so late at night Ms. Edwards, but we've come to ask a few questions and to put a stop to the monster that murdered your late husband and sons."
Through her weary eyes, the finely dressed woman gauged Mania's expression and words, her gaze hovering over Griswold's Magic Knight mantle for a moment before she finally responded.
"You should have been here a long time ago!"
She snapped, anger filling her tone as her eldest son grabbed his mother by the arm. She was on the precipice of tears, so Mania wouldn't pay much attention to her jabs. They could not change the past, but they could mend the future. Even if it wasn't one the Edwards family desired.
"What have the Magic Knights been doing all this time? You should have been here to protect us. That's your job! If you had been here to stop that monster my family wouldn't be ruined!"
Mania would sigh, her pain was understandable, but her reasoning was flawed. They oppressed people and looked down upon those far less fortunate than they. The notion that they deserved protection was a farce, no doubt built and reinforced by the popular idea that the Magic Knights existed purely to serve them. Mania knew that however was not the case and there were no doubt far more deserving people who required help. Some would never receive such help because the Kingdom of Clover prioritized the needs of its elites. Mania's stomach was churning as he grew sick and tired of her incessant ranting. He was no Magic Knight and he held no reasons to assist the nobles. Especially the ones that worked secretly in the shadows, breaking the law only to get away with the deed because they had money to grease the right, dirty hands.
"Try to calm yourself man, nows not the time to be arguing with us. You've seen the Dullahan with your own eyes, right? Times of the essence~"
As Mania finished speaking the eldest son chimed in, rushing to the aid of his mother like a white knight.
"Know your place commoner, people of low birth should mind their manners when in the presence of their betters."
Mania would release a heavy sigh, as he raised his arms and looked toward Griswold. He was done speaking to the Edwards and if he hadn't been in the company of a Magic Knight the rogue would have been inclined to slit the families throats. Mania could blame it on the Dullahan and also steal any noteworthy items or treasures inside the mansion. Sadly, he was sure Griswold would have a thing to two to say in regards to that thought. So Mania would bottle his swelling emotions, hoping Griswold could at least pick up on the social cue.
Truth be told, there was not a whole lot about all of this that impressed him as a person, though Griswold was always the kind of person that could be interested by proper architecture. In many cases, it was clear that the people who built these kinds of estates had quite a bit of skill in their craft, creating homes that would last throughout the ages. It was quite a shame that these same people could likely not be arsed to build homes in the forsaken region, as these kinds of buildings kept out the weather and allowed several generations to dwell within them. He had quite recently seen a similar building that had fallen into a state of disrepair after the inhabitants had been struck by a curse that had turned them all into wights. While it was uncertain how long they had been in that state, it was believed to have lasted for over a hundred years.
While the people there had been saved from their fate, the fact that they had been monsters for such a long time meant their psyches had adapted to it, meaning the next process of having their minds also return to that of humans would be a long and gruelling task. Just like those people had been struck by a curse, so had this family been struck by a similar one. Though it did not affect them personally, it had affected someone they had clearly wronged and potentially had killed themselves or were indirectly responsible for. And now that this being had risen from the grave, the Dullahan clearly had but a singular goal, which was to make the family that had caused his misfortune to suffer until the very last of them had perished. But whether it would actually go back and rest once this goal had been completed, that remained to be seen.
By the time the family had gathered to speak to them, it was more or less the same toxic dribble he had expected from them, blaming the magic knights for not doing their jobs, which apparently meant looking after the issues of nobility while the rest of the country suffered from actual problems. Raiders and highwaymen, werewolves, the undead, it all meant nothing to them, just as long as they only posed a threat to peasants and commoners and remained far away from their region down south. Truly, these were the worst kind of people in Griswold’s mind, though that did not mean he would just leave them to their fate. Having ignored the woman’s bothersome complaints, as well as the way his temporary accomplice spoke back to them in an attempt to get answers, the part that bothered him was this snooty little noble claiming others had to adjust themselves when in the presence of nobility.
“I've heard enough. Be quiet and kneel.”
Allowing a commanding to break out into the world and affect quite literally everything and everyone around him that was not quite on his level, Griswold needed everyone to be quiet while he thought things over before turning to the nobles. Taking his sword from his scabbard and resting it upon the shoulder of the son, he looked him right in the eyes. Not showing any murderous intent or really any kind of emotion at all, there was a valuable lesson to be learned here.
“You believe that because you have wealth, that that equals having power. But let me remind you that if you were to call for help or use your influence and wealth, my sword will still run you through before you’d even be able to get a word out. You’d bleed out long before the Dullahan Or your guards would get here. So let this serve as a reminder as you kneel before a “Peasant”, that wealth does not equal power. Power equals power.”
Allowing everyone in the room some time to get this message across, Griswold placed his sword back into his scabbard and released his aura, allowing everyone to rise back off of the absurdly clean and polished floor and back on their feet. There were times when nobles felt the need to put others down because they believed the world would bend the knee to them simply because they had larders stocked to the brim with Yul, though that eventually meant nothing to those that had no use for money. To people like Griswold who lived on the road, dragging a bag of money behind them only worked as a detriment, which was why he only ever brought enough with him to pay for food, drink and potentially to spend the night at an inn or tavern. It was not exactly the life he had envisioned for himself when he was still a child, though it was the one that made the most sense to him, and that at least was worth something.
“I say this because at the end of the day, the Dullahan that is coming for all of your lives cannot be bought, rendering all of your wealth useless in the face of this outlandish and overwhelming force. And since time is of the essence, I will ask this question once, and only once before I leave you all to face this foe which your own actions have created.”
Wanting to make sure that his next words truly had the chance to sink in, Griswold made it exceptionally clear to the point of being utterly transparent that if they were to lie to him now and do anything aside from telling the truth, he’d leave them here to die at the hands of the Dullahan, he took a momentary break to really let it soak. Looking around at everyone involved, including the guy that had come here with him, making sure the gravity of the situation really got to where it needed to be, which was in both the hearts and minds of previously stated individuals. Once he knew that it had really settled in, he made his inquiry in a way that would likely startle quite a few of them, though he still hoped they would answer him truthfully, no matter how unlikely it was.
“Who is it you’ve wronged, cheated, had killed or drove to take their own life, causing a death so full of resentment for your family that it actually forced them to return from the grave and seek all of your heads?”
Griswold's commanding voice had demanded the attention of the room, causing it to fall silent as the Magic Knight exuded an intimidating aura that sent chills down the rogue's spine. Mania was honestly surprised at Griswold's choice of words, but more surprised by his actions. The large sword was drawn from his back and held just over the boy's shoulders.
Mania would release a loud, echoing whistle, you could color the rogue impressed as he watched the spectacle unfold in hilarious fashion. The son would be given an important lesson in life, though Mania wished he could be the one to instruct him; however, it went far to show that Magic Knights could get away with anything as long as they levied the law. Had it been Mania himself who threatened the nobles he would have been reprimanded and label a villain. How funnily thin that line was Mania would muse as Griswold spoke. His words rang especially true, but people such as them who viewed their lineage as power often wielded it as such against people who were essentially powerless to fight a corrupt system.
Returning his sword to its scabbard, the mother and son would peel themselves from the smoothly polished floor, perplexed by the anger Griswold displayed. The mother looked away from the Magic Knights' piercing eyes, as she begin to halfheartedly mouth words that she did not wish to put into existence. Mania entertained merely watched curiously as her gaze fell back upon himself and Griswold.
"Simon Urlark is the man my husband believed to be the headless horsemen. He was a commoner in our employment. My late husband had... stolen an idea of his and it brought him great success. Simon was upset that he was left out of the deal and so he wanted to go to the authorities, but my husband had other plans. He was... discarded and his family displaced by his absence. I heard his wife had passed recently due to illness. I cannot say what happened to his daughter. She more than likely passed or is in a shelter. None of this falls back onto my family! My husband did what he had to!"
Mania listened to her reply with disgust, he could believe what happened. That much was expected, but for her to feel as if she bore no burden of Simon's fate was the icing on the cake. Hypocrisy Mania thought, she reeked of the notion as did others of her despicable ilk. So, Simon wanted revenge, a worthy cause, and his acts from beyond the dead empowered him to seek said vengeance.
"With that same tongue you throw dirt onto a man's name and steal what is rightfully his. Your family is the catalyst for Simon's ruin. You don't feel any bit of regret or empathy?"
The son had held his mother who had broken down into tears, but Mania wouldn't feel sorry for them. They wrought merely what they rightfully deserved he thought.
"What! He took everything from me, from my family's future and you want me to feel sympathy? If he hadn't been so fixed on an idea he could never start this would never have happened."
"As did your family~"
Mania responded coldly, turning towards Griswold, the rogue figured that was all that needed to be stated, but as for the matter of the headless horseman, that was still yet to come to its close.
"What now big guy? Straight from the source's mouth, they tried to dispose of Simon but looks like he had other plans... Even in death..."
It was tragic what had to happen and even more tragic that the Dullahan would not be getting his revenge tonight.
"My family played no part in his misfortune. My husband merely did what any business mogul would have. HH-His sins were not my children's to bare..."
Her sobbing continued as she pushed the words out.
"Please you have to stop Simon, before he takes what little I have left. Have we not suffered enough?"
The mother's pleas had fallen on deaf eyes, Mania would have loved to let Simon get his vengeance, but they would have to stop any further bloodshed he thought, wondering what Griswold had been thinking this entire time. Mania knew the night was just getting started, a eerie magic signature that didn't belong to anyone in the room had crept into his senses. It seemed like they would be face to face soon with a monster created by monsters themselves.
Overhearing the whole story as he wandered towards the nearest window to keep an eye out, the family and his temporary associate continued to converse with one another even after the woman had given him the story of the supposed victim. Simon Urlark, a person he did not know personally, but none the less someone Griswold felt sorry for as this was exactly the kind of thing nobility did. Sure, there were those who looked after others and did the best they could for the less fortunate by providing shelter, food and other such necessities, which was commendable. But at the end of the day, none of them were pushing for the removal of the caste system that was causing some families to become ridiculously rich based off of their last name and birth right, while others would be born into poverty for the exact same reason. To him, that made it clear who the real culprit was.
Sure, the land of Clover had plenty of royals and nobles that were on the wrong side of things, though they were all part of the problem that was called the Land of Clover. As long as they were allowed to get away with everything, as long as this country would work for those who held high positions and held the fattest purses, those dwelling in the forsaken realm would forever remain exactly that: Forsaken. Forsaken by their brethren, humans just like them who could not give a rats ass about how hard they had to work for a slice of bread or how many hours they had to put in just to make sure their ancestral farms would not need to be closed down because they owed money to the very same nobles that resided in their ivory cities that elevated them above everyone else. Knowing full well that the term used more often was ivory tower, once people behaved like it en masse, that’s when the term “tower” was no longer enough to cover it.
With the way things were now, the country was never going to change from what it was into something better, that was something that everyone could see. And while there were a lot of people who believed they could change it, the realization that this was a country that had its’ gears rusted into place a long time ago was gradually sinking in. For a long time, Griswold had believed that if he could make it to the rank of Captain, that that might mean he might have the tools required to enforce change, starting at the forsaken region. But for real change to come, someone with real power needed to enforce change coming from the top down, which meant it would have to come from the queen herself, the wizard king, or from a captain that happened to also be part of one of the royal families. For an outsider like him to climb the ranks and then start bitching about how the place needed to change its ways, that would never fly.
“Who did what is irrelevant at this point. It is true that your husband is to blame for the vast majority of what went wrong, yet you knowing and not putting a stop to it when you could have means you too are to blame. Your children however do not deserve this, and arguably, neither do you. But rest assured, once the threat is over and done, I will be reporting you to the appropriate agency. With a bit of luck, you’ll be able to share some of the earnings your family made with Simon’s offspring.”
Making it quite clear that he would be taking care of the problem and would not be accepting a no when it came to spending some of their money to make sure Simon’s child or children would be able to have a relatively good life in the wake of all of this tragedy, the time had come to take action. If they were to not make up for all of this effort with a sizeable sum of money after the Dullahan was put down, Griswold would come back here and make them wish a headless knight was all they needed to worry about. Still looking out the window, it seemed that the time had come for the fight to begin. With the old man sounded what could only be described as an equally old horn, the headless horseman came riding into town from the same direction he had seemingly always been coming and going, likely without a care in the world. And who could blame him, he was dead, brought back only to exact his revenge, which sounded like a carefree existence right there.
“Keep these people safe, they won’t be able to pay Simon’s children if they end up dying in the process.”
Speaking to his associate as he reached for his sword, Griswold wandered over to the nearest door, this being the one where the headless rider had returned to. As if he knew that there were people there that were ready to fight him, the horseman waited for Griswold to make his way over to the door before descending from his saddle. Smacking his hand on the ass of his horse, Griswold saw the head that was held clutched against his chest as he reached for the sword at his waist. At this point, now that he approached the supposed Dullahan, he could tell that this was no mere transformation or illusionary spell, but actually the real deal. The reason why this mattered so much was that if this were just an illusion, it would more or less destroy the entire story, not to mention lending some credence to the family not having to pay for Simon’s children anymore.
Reaching for his own sword, he looked at Simon’s shoulders as there was no head present there, which made things rather difficult. As he drew, he waited for Simon to make his move, hoping that it would be a fight that he could end sooner rather than later. Not quite certain as to whether or not he could actually hear him due to the fact that his head was separated from his shoulders, or whether he could even speak due to the same shortcomings, Griswold wanted to make one attempt at talking to the man before the fight started. Even though it quite literally never worked, he believed that as long as he kept trying, there might at some point be an adversary that put their weapon down and gave up before they had to come to blows. Sticking his sword with the tip down into the ground, Griswold looked into the eyes of the severed head as he began his appeal.
“Simon, I have heard your story, and I feel for you, I do. What happened to you marks everything that is wrong with this country, and you were right to take vengeance upon the head of this house. However, by taking his son and continuing to cull their family, you’re taking things too far, so it ends here today. But rest assured, even if you find yourself unable to stop, know that you will be stopped regardless, and that your children will be receiving a hefty sum in your name in hopes of giving them a better future. That is my promise to you.”
For a moment, things were quiet, and Griswold quite honestly believed that this might have changed things. However, as the horseman too stuck his blade into the ground, he picked up his head with both hands and placed it on top of his neck. In a strange and rather gross display, his flesh began to churn and warp as his body temporarily accepted his head as part of his body again before the man picked his weapon up, gripping it with both hands. Seemingly incapable of speech, the Dullahan bowed and nodded before getting into a combat stance. While it was only guessing on his part, Griswold believed that this might have been part of what he had become, and that while he understood, the curse that had brought him back would not just let him put his weapon down and give up to pass into the afterlife. Curses like these often meant the spirit was bound until they completed their task, which in this case was the annihilation of the entire noble family.
While some of them clearly deserved it, Griswold could not just allow the being to do so however, as he had sworn to uphold a code when he became a magic knight. And even if some of them deserved proper punishment, death was too much, especially since the men responsible for Simon’s fate had already been claimed by the icy cold grip of death. Nodding back, Griswold picked his sword back up and began the assault, deeming it best to end this before it dragged on for too long. Blocking his initial strike, the Dullahan lashed out in turn, only for his blade to get swept to the side by the black blade. Exchanging various blows, Griswold knew that he could take the apparition out where it stood, though doing so would cause too much damage to the surrounding buildings and might end up injuring people in the process. As such, the use of magic was out of the question, though that would not diminish his chances of winning, it merely delayed his inevitable victory.
Refusing to use his magic, Griswold kept lashing out at ghastly combatant until he eventually managed to get the upper hand due to sheer ferocity, further empowered by the need to put an end to Simon’s suffering. And so, with a powerful swipe, the Dullahan was quite literally disarmed as both his right hand and his blade came clattering down onto the pavement. Realizing the fight was over, the Dullahan fell to it’s knees as it placed its hand on the hilt of his sword. Raising his own sword above his hand, Griswold looked down upon Simon, who had at this point clenched his own sword in his remaining hand and closed his eyes. But when he looked at his mangled face, it was not fear that he saw, but rather an acceptance of a death long overdue. For the first time in what felt like years, a small smile formed on Griswold’s own face as he grabbed the handle of his blade with both hands and brought it down. Cutting the head of the Dullahan in two and carving it down all the way down through it’s heart in a single blow, the moment Griswold pulled his sword from the flesh, it all began to dissolve.
Dissolving and bubbling down into a black gloopy mass, Griswold performed a powerful cut to the side, relieving any of the goop from his blade before running it through his cloak and finally back into his scabbard. Without looking back at the dark mass, which would likely be cleaned up by some servant soon enough, he returned to the building to see how the family was doing, and in case they had not seen it go down, deliver them the good news.
Griswold seemed preoccupied as he walked nearby the window and looked out in the darkness. Mania would watch him curiously as he thumbed his lip in anticipation. Griswold would say his final piece, warning the family that he intended to seek proper justice for Simon's surviving family. Mania would nod as he was instructed to watch after the family as Griswold turned his large back towards Mania and headed out the door to face what many would describe as a true monster, lurking in the night. Mania had no cares about being left to simply babysit because he could feel the powerful mana that poured forth from his broad frame. Griswold wouldn't need Mania's help, no he was far too capable to require a helping hand from someone of his own magical prowess.
The notion made Mania feel useless as Griswold exited, the rogue turned and looked towards the grief-stricken wife. She would turn away, averting her eyes from the heavy gaze of Mania whilst he turned and looked out the window. The rogue was curious as to how the Magic Knight would handle the situation, what type of magic would he wield in the face of the unknown, spectral threat. The dullahan was menacing, standing at a towering height, but Griswold stood tall as he drew the sword once more from his scabbard. Mania watched, intrigued as the showdown was close to starting. It was a battle of complete attrition, steel against steel Mana looked on as Griswold exchanged powerful blows with the spectral monster that was Simon. Griswold was a skilled swordsman with plenty of talent for the blade, and even though he was battling with a cesspool of culminated hatred and disdain, he held his own admirably.
With only the power he himself cultivated after what felt like an eternity, Griswold would fell the Headless Horseman. Mania was shocked the Magic Knight had triumphed so convincingly, he turned to the family. All smiles as he explained that Griswold had got rid of Simon and the spectral threat was over; however, his fox-like smile crept along the side of his face. Though the threat had been dealt with, he knew the mother knew her deserved retribution was coming soon enough. Mania wouldn't stick around to see it come to fruition, no he trusted that Griswold would properly handle that. Mania himself simply sated his curiosity and had seen things in the dark he believed were only fantasy until now. Griswold entered and checked on the family, Mania would bury his hands in his pockets and casually approached Griswold.
"Great work big guy! You are pretty skilled with that sword there, didn't need me to lift a finger. I take it you'll see justice served so I'll be on my way. It was an interesting night for sure, maybe I'll catch you around~"
Mania would wave him goodbye as he exited the establishment and light a cig as he vanished into the encroaching darkness. The rogue didn't know where the dark would take him, but the night was still young and far from over.
With the headless knight reduced to a dark mass and the threat effectively taken care of, Griswold had begun to make his way over to the manor. Taking his leave before he could really reap any of the potential rewards, his temporary compatriot made a relatively swift exit before the magic knight could even make it through the door. While it seemed weird for the guy to just take off like that, the black knight really did not know the guy well enough to understand his motives for coming to this place to begin with. In any case, he had been useful to some extent, figuring out some of the information he would need to bring the case to a close while he himself had gone into town to figure out whatever he could down there. Remaining in the manor for about as long as was needed to make sure the family was actually safe, and the mass was not reconstituting itself, the time to leave was upon him.
Turning his attention towards the mother, he made abundantly clear that if they were to take all of this as a win and at the same time withhold payment to the children of the Urlark household, that he would come back to raze the house and everyone in it, thus ending what the Dullahan had started. While it might have sounded harsh, given what they had been through, there was no denying that they had brought it upon themselves and entirely normalized the idea of taking from peasants for the betterment of themselves and their bloodline. It went to show the general depravity of nobles and how they just assumed everything was out there for the taking, and the problems they created for others, especially those beneath their station, just counted as collateral damage they did not really need to trouble themselves with. It was despicable, and proved yet again how this land was ripe for a revolution.
Once he was certain they had all come to an understanding, he told them that if another evil like this were to rise again, that it was likely a good idea to call for him again. Nodding in agreement, the matriarch of the family told the servant to show Griswold out, as Griswold just thought about how many other people there might be in this country that had been wronged in the exact same way as Simon, yet had never gotten recognized for their struggles. It was a rather sad thought to be sure, and one he would very much like to fix, even though it was not within his capabilities. No matter how much he wanted for it to be so, no matter how powerful he became, there was no chance the nobles in charge of the country and the ones in the magic knights were going to sign up for any real changes. Clover was a land of the rich after all, and the peasants that were born with less of just about everything were just tools, a working force with no way of fighting back.
Once he was out the front door, he noticed that the horse the Dullahan had ridden in on was still around, waiting by the pool of goo. Approaching it ever so slowly, the horse seemed to have his reservations about letting him get close, though the use of his commanding aura was enough to keep the animal in place for long enough. Grabbing hold of the reigns with one hand, he reached into his duffle bag to grab a piece of stale bread before feeding it to the horse. Believing it to be a wise choice to let the animal know that he meant it no harm, he then moved up and mounted the black steed. With it being the first time he had ever been on a horse, the fact that he had worked with them back on the Cromwell farm made it significantly easier to tell the creature’s mood and its willingness to accept a rider. Due to the black mane and the red eyes, Griswold wondered as to whether the animal was really that, or if it had somehow come back from another world along with the Dullahan.
Figuring it did not matter as long as it was under his direct supervision, Griswold gave a tug at the reigns, causing the animal to start galloping through the streets. Running past the way the Dullahan had come in, Griswold rode past the house of the old man, who was looking on at the sight of it. Greeting him with a hand gesture and a nod, the man waved back as a form of thanks as the black knight rode off into the night with what might very well be his new companion.
