Rencesvals

Harfleur, named after the French town besieged by Henry V in Shakespeare's telling, and source of the 'once more onto the breach' speech. Yamasaki never lacked for bravado. That much was certain and ultimately fatal. He'd tried to rescue Magenta during the ambush - not surprising, given their relationship. Their burgeoning love ended that day. Everyone had such expectations for them and their future. Instead, they became just another pair of scripts on the wall. Here were all the tags claimed by Kayaba, flaunted as memoriam. Could there be a better way to drive the players to despair t

It would have taken a stranger ages to find each one, but Ren knew precisely where to look. They were lost among so many now. Valmy, the rebellious teen genius from Osaka. He'd made it to college a year early by virtue of sheer overflowing talents. The boy could never sit still, follow orders or stay with the team. He was always the wildcard, driving Austerlitz crazy with his half-assed lone wolf schemes. You couldn't really call them plans, given how haphazardly they unfolded. More than a few objects had been tossed at the back of Kobayashi's head when he went rogue in a shooter g

A cry in the sky broke his attention. Some bird of prey had likely found its prey, reasserting the world's forward motion in the process. It carried the call of fate or destiny. A determined smirk and infectious drive instilled, Ren strode path the monument with his decision made: taking the right path. It was nearing end of day by the time he reached the Town of Beginnings, his destination rising prominently in the distance. No mysterious stranger tripped him this time, as he passed the gate. He carried no apples to give away of be plundered. The orphans would be settling for a mea

Still holding the sword aloft, Ren's vision moved past it to focus on a simple stone shrine several dozen yards directly behind it where the road forked. Most of the detail had long since been worn away by wind and rain, but the basic form could still be deduced. A figure arched over the small central sanctum, wreathed protectively around it like a parent cradling and protecting a child. Gashes suggesting a wound were obvious on the exposed side. "A parent's ultimate sacrifice." Things suddenly became real. Drifting his gaze to the shrine itself, Ren saw the tiny, faded swaddling cloths

It was a far cry from what he'd envisioned, but the blade mirrored his own circumstances perfectly: it had raw, untapped potential. With time, seasoning and continued refinement he and the weapon could both improve into something that could make a meaningful difference; something worthy in a world that grew dimmer by the day. He'd witnessed it first hand. Hope faded just a little more with every sunset and name that etched itself upon the stone face of the Monument of Life. It had to end. "What should I call you, I wonder?" A twist of his arms caught a flash of sunlight. "Every sword

That was the moment his knees decided that screaming was getting them nowhere and just chose to collapse. Suddenly supported by Jell-O, Ren wobbled his way to an adjacent bench and lay himself down on his side. Callum just laughed, in a loud and heartfelt manner unlike anything Ren had ever heard from him before. Grabbing a jug from the far side of the smithy, the master drank deep and kissed his teeth sharply as steam literally rose from his skin. "I thought you said you hardly knew what you were doing," Ren laughed back, feebly. "Of course I did. Do you have any idea how many p

Ren's first strike could have gone a lot better. Even Callum cringed watching the molten metal give awkwardly. "Err... gimme a minute to deal with that." Wandering back to the furnace and bellows, a little master-level crafting magic salvaged their efforts from the brink of total failure. The white-haired player signaled sheepish thanks. This was officially way outside of his wheelhouse, but it still felt exhilarating to be trying his hand at a craft so far beyond his past experiences. "Thanks Callum." A nearby rag mopped his face, smearing the grit around more than wiping any

The answer felt like forever, especially after a day's backbreaking labour collecting coal. Charcoal would have been better, but they didn't have time to process that from scratch on top of everything else. The sun crested into darkness and made its full journey back to the far side of the floor before it was done. Both men took turns working the bellows to keep the furnace at temperature. Like the steady pitch and shift of shovels with Gaspard, Ren found a similar rhythm when working with Callum. More akin to a pulse than a musical beat, it still provided cadence and timing. Ren found i

"Are you sure that you're ready for this?" Callum watched as Ren summoned a variety of ore from his recent trove of samples collected at Terenzio's mine. Examining each in turn, he sorted them by obvious criteria first, then took out his trusty claw hammer to chip away at those with less obvious natures. Peering down the length of his hawkish nose, Ren looked more like a lab tech than a traditional craftsman. All he was missing was a pair of slender spectacles hanging off the tip of his nose with a holder strap around his neck. "I think I have enough iron ore to give this a shot, but

The return trip to Callum's shop was unexpectedly introspective. Digging wasn't usually quite so philosophical. Ren stopped dead in his tracks at that thought. "Who am I trying to kid? This is me I'm thinking about. When is anything NOT philosophical?" The weight of Ren's load increased by the imagined additional burdens, causing his shoulder to slump slightly. Groaning at his own habit of overthinking everything, he settled on making the rest of his way back in silence. The sun had made good time as it traveled its daily sojourn, settling into the late afternoon by the time Ren he

Solace could be found in the crucible of labour. Though he doubted this body could ever develop callouses to warrant earned experience, Ren could at least acknowledge his own effort. How he treated people mattered, be they players or NPCs. It said something about you. In a world gone mad, what else did they really have to define themselves with but their own principles? Charlemagne's peers might well approve. "I'll do what I can, my friend. Maybe it will even amount to something." Planting his shovel in the softened black chalk-like surface of the pit, Ren wrapped and tied the sack

A simple grunted understanding and acceptance was all Gaspard would have wanted and expected. It's what he got. "Is there anything I can do to help?" It was doubtful, but Ren felt an obligation to make the offer. Politics weren't really his arena, and Dorian would surely have covered all the angles. But if it made his newfound friend feel better, it was worthwhile. Wiping the sweat from his brow, the last of the sacks he'd absconded with from Callum's shop was unfurled and made ready. "Nah, Ren. I appreciate the thought, but this is just the way things are. Always has been.

“What’s your story then? How did humble Gaspard come to this glorious state of affairs?” A shovel’s dose of powdered blackness rained down over his “Oh dear,” came a predictable not-even-a-little-bit sorry chuckle from over Ren’s shoulder. “Didn’t see you there, m’lord. Shame about that.” “Don’t get your nose out of joint, Gas-” Another wave of sooty soil came flying at him, forcing Ren to turn away, laughing and coughing all at the same time. “Okay! Okay!!! I get it," came hacking laughter from within the resulting cloud. "Just tell me the story already, before I return

“Sounds a lot like local politics to me.” Ren didn’t approve, but he understood. You didn’t run a business in the resource sector for long before running afoul of this sort of thing. He’d seen it far too many times, and far, far worse. “Dorian ain’t stupid. People think that because he runs a small place like this that he can’t have ambitions. He’s always dreamed of moving on to bigger fish. Who knows what games he might play to try and get there?” The steady sound of picks and shoveling gave cadence to their speech. It was rhythmic, even soothing in its own way. Tongues loo

“Let’s just say that it’s out of my hands. Destiny or necessity governs, if you prefer. My path is through him.” A snort and spit were Gaspard’s response. Acceptance, rather than insult. Ren took it for how it was meant. “How long ago was Alaric’s passing?” Returning to his task, this conversation had instantly become the meat of chatter between coworkers. Certain things were understood, including the casual exchange of common information. “A few months, I think. I don’t really keep track of the days. There was some sort of trouble with Dorian first, as I understood thin

“I wonder what became of his father?” It was a question for the sky, not truly expecting an answer. “Old age and a worn out heart,” came the unexpected reply. Another man, older and with grey wispy hair sticking out in odd patches from all side of his head sauntered up to the pit with his own pickaxe in hand. “Alaric was a good man, and a good father. He served the village well for a long time.” The stranger moved to work the other side of the patch with a practiced hand. “Ren.” “Gaspard,” came the response. Formalities were thus easily settled. It was all that either man

“Done.” Ren offered his hand in friendship. Doubt still in his eyes, Callum grasped it firmly. Something about Ren’s confidence caught his attention enough to give him a chance. Grabbing a few heavy sacks from beside the forge, he left the shop with a spring in his step and clear goals in sight. It was a short and well-traveled walk to the coal fields. Tolbana had clearly relied on them for a long time. It was an open cut pit with large deposits readily accessible from the surface. Local usage was automatically replenished by the system, making it an effectively infinite supp

Callum guffawed at the bold and ridiculous nature of the request. Wiping grit and sweat from his brow, he set his wrought iron tongs down on the anvil and turned to face the new arrival. “Teacher? I’m barely more than an apprentice myself, and hardly suited to take one on myself.” The forge behind him was cold and dark. The crate of raw iron ingots at its side was nearly empty and coal stores equally depleted. As a shop, this place could barely be considered viable, let alone functional “Perhaps,” Ren replied, “But you’re the only such craftsman in town, and most of the sh

In the aftermath of his forays into the wilds west of Tolbana, Ren made his way back to the village. Raw materials recovered from Terenzio’s mine would provide a decent base upon which to build. Sakata’s own past experience served as added benefit, but beyond that point he needed practice and tutelage. A few well-placed enquiries point him towards the best-suited option. In actuality, he was the only option, which became apparent the moment Ren stepped into Tolbana’s smithy. The shop was well-appointed, but its current master was less impressive. Young and barely past the rank of a

An exhausted sigh then clatter of wood upon cobblestone as Ren collapsed into a heap on his knees. "So much for that," he gasped waving a finger aimlessly in the general direction of the shop that had somehow escaped complete calamity. "Did we do it? Yes? Oh good." Stretching forward to ease imagined tension from non-existent muscles, Ren grabbed the nearest water pail and dumped its entire contents all over his head, dousing himself completely. A slight sizzle crackled from his left, where the water put out the still-simmering curtains discarded during his dash to fetch apparent

Lured by tales of crystalline formations said to contribute to the unusually hardy and bountiful harvests of Dagan, Ren had travelled from the lowest extremes of the floating castle to the highest, purely to satisfy his curiosity. Wispy white hair and alabaster features still marred from soot and smears earned at Callum's forge, his studies were progressing slowly. It didn't help that he kept having to play fetch to feed the blazing furnace's endless appetite. Maybe something in these crystals could catalyze the combustion and make their fuel burn longer or hotter, or even help refine the q

Ren's brow furrowed. "Did you just..." You could practically follow the mental math as he struggled to explain what Dimos was saying. Sure, just following orders made sense to the guy barking the orders, but didn't that also paint a bullseye on that same guy? Dimos didn't strike him as a responsibility-taking sort. He was more akin to 'blame management.' Or, maybe, he'd just read him wrong during their brief time together. Illi was fully engaged in a titanic battle of wills with the same batch of dandelions he'd just given up on. Something, something about unstoppable for

"Terence? TERENCE!!!" A blur of green cloth broke from the passage Ren had followed to this place, wrapping itself like tape to Ren's ragged companion. Exhausted, but glad to have reunited the miner and his wife, Ren locked the cart brake one last time and slumped against its side. His breaths were short and taken through clenched teeth, revealing how much closer to his limits he had pushed himself than he'd been willing to let on. "Oww! Careful woman! I'm pretty sure that was broken for a few days. It's still tender!" Mirth overflowed his complaints as Terenzio spoke them. H

After clearing enough rubble to free Terenzio, their trip back to the surface was no easy matter. The miner was in no shape to walk, until Ren provided him with one of the healing potions he'd been fortunate enough to receive with his starter kit. "Thanks again, my friend. I think I might actually be able to walk with some assistance." "Good. If you can walk, then you can lean." Ren grinned slyly as he pointed to the half-full cart of samples he'd collected on his journey down here. "You can use it as a crutch and support. I'll take care of bearing the weight. It doesn't seem

A short while later, Ren had managed to brace a few nearby posts against the ceiling and found an old wooden mallet with enough heft in it to pound them into place. Terenzio, as he barely managed to introduce himself, otherwise remained quiet and borderline unconscious. "Stay with me! You can't fall asleep, understand? Tell me about Giovanna. How do you know her?" Terenzio's head lolled to the side as a rare smile creased his heavily parched lips. "She's my wife, and was likely the curse's first victim. That compass you mentioned? That's how this all started. It points