And then there is Thomas.
He's absolutely none of those; a peasant boy, and not even the strongest, nor the brightest, nor the richest, nor the most capable, nor- well, you get the idea. The only thing important about him is that he is just like anyone else in the world, and he has awakened what all of us have within. This sleeping power is a heroic resolve; a courage of some kind, to do not only what is right, but to do what is best. These are the tales of the most ordinary soldier Regalia has ever been given, and what awesome constitution even the most feeble knight can muster if he dares to admit to himself that only he can choose when he is defeated.
The Hidden Dragon was experiencing an awful lot of turbulence as of late. Their customers would come and leave in droves, all decided by a lone Kathar named Il'Umina. While she might seem identical to all the other sinners around her, what made her specifically different is the fact that she had deemed all of her violence to be just. Standing before the Varran Vigilant Shae Wren and the watchful Warden Thomas Dopsworth was Il'Umina and her hostage, who was a lone and elderly Isldar woman. A group of bystanders observed carefully, their breath held as they patiently wait for someone to make the first move.
"I'll do it if you come any fucking closer," hissed Il'Umina as Shae took a step closer with her spear.
"Look, we can talk this out," started Thomas in hushed tones with his baton low, "no one has to get hurt today. No one is going to die, no one is going to sit in a cell, we're all just going to talk, alright?"
Shae Wren constantly glanced over to Thomas, clearly lusting to slay her opponent rather than deal with currently failing diplomacy.
"Tom, we can get her now, on the count of one," Shae directed to her partner. Before she could even start her countdown, Il'Umina released her hostage- who promptly fled as quick as she could- and took a back-stab at Thomas while holding him at the front. Unfortunately for him, her technique was well executed as her dagger slipped through the thinner plating on his back and dove into his shoulder blade. With a wail of pain, Thomas whacked her across the face with his baton and Shae took a stab at her right thigh. Both impacts took place, but soon after, Thomas and Shae came to the realization that Il'Umina was not alone; from the audience sprang free a Wolond with eyes as dark as coal and as damned as his soul, his arms raised toward the sky to summon an ambush. Calling upon the powers of his foul gods, they bestowed upon him a terrible blessing that gave his body strength and his teeth sharpness. The Sanguine arched over with a bestial grunt, his lips splitting down the middle to make way for his fangs. Foolishly, Thomas tried to give him a thwhack across the face as well, but the Varghul seemed to hardly feel the impact. As Thomas followed through, the Varghul reached for the baton and swiped upward his fingers, each of his nails having become identical to five-fold daggers that chewed through the lead-wood weapon like it were butter.
"Tom, we have to go!" Shae reached out for Thomas, yanking at his cape to barely steal him away from the gnashing teeth of the Varghul, the two of them sprinting away as quickly as they could in their plating. By the time they reached a checkpoint that had been constructed for the Violets many weeks before, a feeling of dread filled their hearts as they heard the thumping footsteps of the perfect Vampire sallying behind them. Amid the combative confusion, Il'Umina turned tail and took this opportunity to escape into the safety of Old Town, far away from any Violet influence.
"Are you alright?" Shae narrowed her brows in concern to the blade sticking out of Thomas' back like a thorn.
"Yeah, I- I think I'm fine," Thomas unknowingly lied with dilated pupils and a quivering lip full of adrenaline, too fearful to recognize how much pain he truly was in. The two rushed up the stairs of the checkpoint up to its highest point for a better view and a greater advantage, tacks of rain beginning to dribble on the ground as clouds, and the monster, closed in.
A shriek filled the city as the Varghul lay siege on the checkpoint, the bystanders once having been intrigued deciding that they instead should preserve their limbs rather than their daily dose of entertainment. Fortunately for Thomas, this was what he had been trained for. Though he grunted and retched over in pain on multiple occasions, he began to twist up and crank back the string of his windlass-span crossbow, the strongest sieging weapon that he had ever set his hands on. It was clever thinking of Shae to place these crossbows there in the first place, but her generosity ended up troubling her more than anything as he struggled to understand the mechanism of the ranged weapon. Pulling on the string was too hard, and the cranking that Thomas did looked too awkward because she was missing a couple key components.
"Tom, he's almost here," Shae said in a crescendo as the Varghul sauntered up to the opening. A bead of sweat fell from Thomas' brow and dropped to the road as he ripped the crank off his crossbow, throwing it aside with a yelp of pain from his wounded backside.
"Tom, hurry up!" In a moment of desperation, Shae pounded the iron bow of her crossbow against the Varghul's fingers as it began to clamber up the checkpoint's central barricade. Though some concerning cracks could be heard from both fingers and tools, neither party seemed close to standing down. Thomas tilted upward his crossbow and stuffed in a bolt, tying it down to the central mechanism so that the string would not rip free.
"TOM!!" Shae screamed as the malfunctioning crossbow was ripped from her grasp and the ugly Varghul reared its head toward the two. Just as it began to vault over the top, Thomas stepped forward and rammed the crossbow's barrel against its chest and pulled the trigger. Loud as lightning, sure as sunshine, and swifter than the beat of a hummingbird's wing, a wide bolt screamed from the crossbow for a single beat before slamming into the chest of the monster. A great amount of damage was dealt as its skin rippled and the bones beneath were splintered, but its hatred only grew. In the hopes of taking someone down with it, the Varghul's five-fold daggers grabbed onto Thomas' helmet and let gravity do the rest. Just when it seemed like Thomas would be flung twenty feet into the air and down to the cobble road, Shae, in a moment of ingeniousness, ripped the buckle of Thomas' helmet with her claws so that his head-piece flew free and his body remained in place.
THUNK!
The Varghul fell to the road, its body wounded, but its hatred emblazoned in another shriek. Thomas abandoned his crossbow to the checkpoint, rushing down its steps and sliding free his sword from its scabbard and scooping up the closest shield that had been left in the checkpoint reserves in case of emergencies. By this point, inclement weather poured on all parties, staining the entire street red from the life essences of the wounded Violet and the damaged beast. Shae leapt off the checkpoint from the top, though not before snatching up her spear, as she initiated a jump-attack. This could have been a killing blow, had she not landed directly into the maw of the Varghul and her point been aimed for his head rather than his bicep. By the time Thomas slipped through the checkpoint to re-enter the fray, Shae had ripped, poked, and bit at the vampire as much as she could before it did the exact same thing back to her. While her plating surely saved her from an untimely demise, that did not stop her from getting thrown around and deposited on the road in a red puddle. The Varghul took his injuries well, the spear having barely scraped his skin and many of the attacks from Shae not piercing deep enough into its skin to cause it concern, even if it did hurt an awful lot.
"Rot away, you monstrosity!" Thomas charged on the Varghul, greeted with the same five-fold daggers that had defeated his partner. His knightly sword cleaved through three of those five points, causing the beast to step back and examine its missing appendages in silent contemplation. With a disgustingly human-like sneer, its other hand closed and heaved for Thomas, a massive fist slamming into his shield like a morningstar. Thomas staggered, but fueled by his determination, he lunged forward to impale the beast's right left shoulder. Knowing better than a moment before, the Varghul arched backward to avoid the blow before suddenly having a rock ricochet off its head. In confusion, both it and Thomas looked to their left to see a single civilian throwing rocks at the Varghul. Deciding the civilian to be an easier meal than the Violet, it began to lumber toward the vigilante before another rock bounced off its back. Swiveling around once more, another civilian had begun throwing rocks at the beast. The crowd, inspired by the heroics of Shae and Thomas, had returned from their homes and armed themselves with whatever they could, be they clubs, torches, cleavers, or rocks they found on the side of the muddy road. The damage dealt to the Varghul was infinitesimally tiny as stones and clubs bounced off his hide, but he knew that this might not stay the case if the crowd continued to grow and the boldness of the mob swelled.
With one final war cry, Thomas stepped closer to the beast and held his sword high as though to call for the Spirit's blessing to smite the monster. Rather than having the Spirit answer, the roar of the mob behind him called forth the execution. After a moment of consideration, the Varghul slowly began to back away before eventually breaking into full-scale flee. As the vampire dipped out of sight into the darkness from whence it came, the crowd cheered, kissed, hugged, clapped, and hooted as loud as they could- all aside from Shae and Thomas, of course. Thomas dropped to his knees and let out a deep exhale, agony coursing through his body and exhaustion consuming him. As a couple more moments passed, he too succumbed to his wounds and dropped to the road. Both Shae and Thomas lived from the experience, carried into the clinic from a few of the stronger members of the mob. Though Thomas and Shae always had their quarrels, that day forever had been engraved into their minds, for they knew that they truly were there to fight for each other until their fate came.
On this night, Regalia had shown its many wonders. The courage of the people within the city, the power of the foul gods that lurk in the shadows, the power of teamwork and care, the strength of the Violet steel...
And then there was Thomas.
"I'll do it if you come any fucking closer," hissed Il'Umina as Shae took a step closer with her spear.
"Look, we can talk this out," started Thomas in hushed tones with his baton low, "no one has to get hurt today. No one is going to die, no one is going to sit in a cell, we're all just going to talk, alright?"
Shae Wren constantly glanced over to Thomas, clearly lusting to slay her opponent rather than deal with currently failing diplomacy.
"Tom, we can get her now, on the count of one," Shae directed to her partner. Before she could even start her countdown, Il'Umina released her hostage- who promptly fled as quick as she could- and took a back-stab at Thomas while holding him at the front. Unfortunately for him, her technique was well executed as her dagger slipped through the thinner plating on his back and dove into his shoulder blade. With a wail of pain, Thomas whacked her across the face with his baton and Shae took a stab at her right thigh. Both impacts took place, but soon after, Thomas and Shae came to the realization that Il'Umina was not alone; from the audience sprang free a Wolond with eyes as dark as coal and as damned as his soul, his arms raised toward the sky to summon an ambush. Calling upon the powers of his foul gods, they bestowed upon him a terrible blessing that gave his body strength and his teeth sharpness. The Sanguine arched over with a bestial grunt, his lips splitting down the middle to make way for his fangs. Foolishly, Thomas tried to give him a thwhack across the face as well, but the Varghul seemed to hardly feel the impact. As Thomas followed through, the Varghul reached for the baton and swiped upward his fingers, each of his nails having become identical to five-fold daggers that chewed through the lead-wood weapon like it were butter.
"Tom, we have to go!" Shae reached out for Thomas, yanking at his cape to barely steal him away from the gnashing teeth of the Varghul, the two of them sprinting away as quickly as they could in their plating. By the time they reached a checkpoint that had been constructed for the Violets many weeks before, a feeling of dread filled their hearts as they heard the thumping footsteps of the perfect Vampire sallying behind them. Amid the combative confusion, Il'Umina turned tail and took this opportunity to escape into the safety of Old Town, far away from any Violet influence.
"Are you alright?" Shae narrowed her brows in concern to the blade sticking out of Thomas' back like a thorn.
"Yeah, I- I think I'm fine," Thomas unknowingly lied with dilated pupils and a quivering lip full of adrenaline, too fearful to recognize how much pain he truly was in. The two rushed up the stairs of the checkpoint up to its highest point for a better view and a greater advantage, tacks of rain beginning to dribble on the ground as clouds, and the monster, closed in.
A shriek filled the city as the Varghul lay siege on the checkpoint, the bystanders once having been intrigued deciding that they instead should preserve their limbs rather than their daily dose of entertainment. Fortunately for Thomas, this was what he had been trained for. Though he grunted and retched over in pain on multiple occasions, he began to twist up and crank back the string of his windlass-span crossbow, the strongest sieging weapon that he had ever set his hands on. It was clever thinking of Shae to place these crossbows there in the first place, but her generosity ended up troubling her more than anything as he struggled to understand the mechanism of the ranged weapon. Pulling on the string was too hard, and the cranking that Thomas did looked too awkward because she was missing a couple key components.
"Tom, he's almost here," Shae said in a crescendo as the Varghul sauntered up to the opening. A bead of sweat fell from Thomas' brow and dropped to the road as he ripped the crank off his crossbow, throwing it aside with a yelp of pain from his wounded backside.
"Tom, hurry up!" In a moment of desperation, Shae pounded the iron bow of her crossbow against the Varghul's fingers as it began to clamber up the checkpoint's central barricade. Though some concerning cracks could be heard from both fingers and tools, neither party seemed close to standing down. Thomas tilted upward his crossbow and stuffed in a bolt, tying it down to the central mechanism so that the string would not rip free.
"TOM!!" Shae screamed as the malfunctioning crossbow was ripped from her grasp and the ugly Varghul reared its head toward the two. Just as it began to vault over the top, Thomas stepped forward and rammed the crossbow's barrel against its chest and pulled the trigger. Loud as lightning, sure as sunshine, and swifter than the beat of a hummingbird's wing, a wide bolt screamed from the crossbow for a single beat before slamming into the chest of the monster. A great amount of damage was dealt as its skin rippled and the bones beneath were splintered, but its hatred only grew. In the hopes of taking someone down with it, the Varghul's five-fold daggers grabbed onto Thomas' helmet and let gravity do the rest. Just when it seemed like Thomas would be flung twenty feet into the air and down to the cobble road, Shae, in a moment of ingeniousness, ripped the buckle of Thomas' helmet with her claws so that his head-piece flew free and his body remained in place.
THUNK!
The Varghul fell to the road, its body wounded, but its hatred emblazoned in another shriek. Thomas abandoned his crossbow to the checkpoint, rushing down its steps and sliding free his sword from its scabbard and scooping up the closest shield that had been left in the checkpoint reserves in case of emergencies. By this point, inclement weather poured on all parties, staining the entire street red from the life essences of the wounded Violet and the damaged beast. Shae leapt off the checkpoint from the top, though not before snatching up her spear, as she initiated a jump-attack. This could have been a killing blow, had she not landed directly into the maw of the Varghul and her point been aimed for his head rather than his bicep. By the time Thomas slipped through the checkpoint to re-enter the fray, Shae had ripped, poked, and bit at the vampire as much as she could before it did the exact same thing back to her. While her plating surely saved her from an untimely demise, that did not stop her from getting thrown around and deposited on the road in a red puddle. The Varghul took his injuries well, the spear having barely scraped his skin and many of the attacks from Shae not piercing deep enough into its skin to cause it concern, even if it did hurt an awful lot.
"Rot away, you monstrosity!" Thomas charged on the Varghul, greeted with the same five-fold daggers that had defeated his partner. His knightly sword cleaved through three of those five points, causing the beast to step back and examine its missing appendages in silent contemplation. With a disgustingly human-like sneer, its other hand closed and heaved for Thomas, a massive fist slamming into his shield like a morningstar. Thomas staggered, but fueled by his determination, he lunged forward to impale the beast's right left shoulder. Knowing better than a moment before, the Varghul arched backward to avoid the blow before suddenly having a rock ricochet off its head. In confusion, both it and Thomas looked to their left to see a single civilian throwing rocks at the Varghul. Deciding the civilian to be an easier meal than the Violet, it began to lumber toward the vigilante before another rock bounced off its back. Swiveling around once more, another civilian had begun throwing rocks at the beast. The crowd, inspired by the heroics of Shae and Thomas, had returned from their homes and armed themselves with whatever they could, be they clubs, torches, cleavers, or rocks they found on the side of the muddy road. The damage dealt to the Varghul was infinitesimally tiny as stones and clubs bounced off his hide, but he knew that this might not stay the case if the crowd continued to grow and the boldness of the mob swelled.
With one final war cry, Thomas stepped closer to the beast and held his sword high as though to call for the Spirit's blessing to smite the monster. Rather than having the Spirit answer, the roar of the mob behind him called forth the execution. After a moment of consideration, the Varghul slowly began to back away before eventually breaking into full-scale flee. As the vampire dipped out of sight into the darkness from whence it came, the crowd cheered, kissed, hugged, clapped, and hooted as loud as they could- all aside from Shae and Thomas, of course. Thomas dropped to his knees and let out a deep exhale, agony coursing through his body and exhaustion consuming him. As a couple more moments passed, he too succumbed to his wounds and dropped to the road. Both Shae and Thomas lived from the experience, carried into the clinic from a few of the stronger members of the mob. Though Thomas and Shae always had their quarrels, that day forever had been engraved into their minds, for they knew that they truly were there to fight for each other until their fate came.
On this night, Regalia had shown its many wonders. The courage of the people within the city, the power of the foul gods that lurk in the shadows, the power of teamwork and care, the strength of the Violet steel...
And then there was Thomas.
Atop a building he sits,
from a bottle he sips.
Don't ever forget,
but I'm not done yet!
from a bottle he sips.
Don't ever forget,
but I'm not done yet!
Thomas marched along tirelessly with his battalion, following behind Siegfried von Rahm, Bjarke Hadraga, Sibyllad Lykke, and Leonardo Oliviera. Their moves were slow, surpassing nothing further than a
Like a masterpiece trying to gaze upon itself, people do not always recognize the true magnitude of their actions. Without even realizing it, some men have changed, or destroyed, entire societies simply because of the humble phrase: "it was the right thing to do." Just like you, Thomas does not realize his full potential, sometimes even going so far as to forget some of the most important things he's ever done under the pretense of "I didn't really think it was that big." While Thomas may not ever recognize that he's as important as people say he is, I hope only that you can tell, even if only to one person, that you can be a hero too.
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