11
Unforgiven By Moonlight

"Miracles art unlike thine sorceries," Rhea began. Solaire stood alongside Thomas, their talismans in hand. Oscar was keeping watch, but remained in sight. "Depend'st they upon faith in the gods. Not upon one's mind. Tell'st me, Thomas. What dost thou think'st of the gods?"

Oh, boy. Here we go. Thomas had all sorts of words he could say about the gods. But this time, he went with the simplest answer. "Something I've learned from my visions. The gods are not all seeing, all knowing, or even all powerful." Rhea and Solaire looked at Thomas as though his words were the epitome of heresy. Technically, one could argue that it was, after all. "The gods are a lot more like humans, I believe. They are capable of loving. Of hatred. They know joy. Sorrow. Pain. But more than anything, they can feel fear. They are almost as human as we are. And I choose to believe that, even though the gods made plenty of mistakes, that they did so out of the belief that what they did was the best course of action. They overthrew the everlasting dragons because they believed that they could create a better world than was. And for a time, they were right..." Thomas fell silent, then looked up. "Does that answer your question?"

Solaire's face was unable to be read under his helm. Rhea gave a small smile. "To know the mistakes of the gods, and yet to still believ'st in them... Methinks I that thou hast more faith than thee givs't credit. Think'st I that even the toughest miracles art within thine reach."

Wait a second. That couldn't be right. That would imply Thomas had about thirty-ish Faith, at least. But he didn't recall putting points into it. He blinked open his UI and looked at his stats, trying to get some answers. What in the everlasting fuck? Thomas didn't know what he was looking at here. His stats, and Soul Level, were... in flux. His Strength, Dex, Vit and End were all mostly static, but everything else was really fluctuating. Especially his Faith. What was causing it? Regardless, Thomas decided his stats screen was no longer able to be trusted. I suppose that this is what I get for fucking with the game... "All right. Let's see if I can do this." Concentrating, Thomas muttered a brief prayer, words unbidden falling from his lips. "Hevno Slen..."

Solaire looked at Thomas strangely. "Friend, this is not the prayer to the miracle Rhea taught..." He fell silent, then, as a grey-golden light tinged around the sorcerer, with a hint of reddish light forming around him. "By the Lords! Thomas! What manner of power is that?"

"I... I'm not sure. Lemme check..." Opening his spells list, Thomas looked at the new miracle he had unintentionally created.

Stone Flesh

Miracle developed by a heretical student from a far off land and time. Temporarily increases physical damage resistance, but also increases the caster's susceptability to lightning damage.

Long ago, there was a young apprentice who tapped into the power of ancient dragons. This spell is but an excerpt, as tatters remain today of the full prayer. The Ancient Lords, ever mindful of the dreadful power of their ancient foes, frown quite heavily upon the use of this miracle.

"Well, apparently I'm technically a heretic now. I just created a miracle that taps into the power of some motherfucking dragons... Seath, Eat your fucking heart out." Curious, Thomas tried giving a couple rolls, and found that, to his delight, his rolling speed was unaffected by the miracle. "Adios, Iron Flesh. I shall no longer require thee."

Rhea looked at Thomas with minor confusion. "I understand not. If thou art a sorcerer, why dost thee bring disrespect to the Duke Seath, also called the Grandfather of Sorcery?"

Thomas grimaced. "Well, it might have something to do with the fact that Seath is a giant douche." At their collective gasps, Thomas shrugged. "I'm not wrong. What else would you call a guy who regularly kidaps maidens for his experiments." Silence, and Thomas continued. "Okay, sure, technically he has his servants do the kidnapping, but that doesn't make him less of a douche." Having said his piece, he folded his arms.

His two companions remained silent, and Oscar spoke up, apparently having heard Thomas' outburst. "Surely... If Seath commited these atrocities... Gwyn would have punished him." Thomas merely shook his head sadly. On an offhand note, he observed that his miracle faded away.

"He turned a blind eye to it all, and jailed his friend, Bishop Havel, for trying to do something about it. You'd thinkGwyn would do something after Seath kidnapped a couple of people from Gwynevere's Princess Guard covenant, but nah. Nothing."

Rhea looked troubled. "Woulds't Seath have kidnapped me, if he had the chance."

Thomas thought for a moment, before responding slowly. "There are many secrets of this world that Ormagöden gifted me with. Some of them are not meant for mortals. But yes. Seath would totally have abducted you."

The priestess nodded. "Then I am in thine debt, doubly so. First for Petrus, and then for preventing my abduction at the hands of the Paledrake." The group looked troubled, as though picturing what the scaless dragon would have done to her, even thought Thomas knew exactly what. "Come, my friends," Rhea continued. "Let us move on. Prophet of Ormagöden. Dost thou know our next objective?"

"Yes, actually," Thomas smiled. "First off, we need to get you a weapon. Then, Solaire and Oscar will train you up while I hit the woods to get the Divine Ember from the Moonlight Butterfly. Hopefully Beatrice will listen to me when I summon her so that she WON'T go and fight the Four Kings. After I get the Ember, we hit the Lower Undead Burg to save a stupid fucking sorcerer who totally got himself locked in a room. Then we slay a demon, and hit the depths to kill some slimes, get some green titanite shards, and save a pyromancer from being eaten alive. Then we stick around in the depths, killing slimes and rats for Humanity and Titanite Shards."

Rhea looked puzzled. "Thomas, why dost thou delay me on my holy..." She paused, then, remembering how the prophet explained that her "Holy Mission" was nothing more than the church dumping it's undead members like trash. "Why the delays?"

Thomas smiled. "Well, simply put, there are a LOT of necromancers in the catacombs, and unless you have a divine weapon, the skeletons you knock down will just get right back up. They'll stay dead when div'ed, though. Speaking of, though, what do you have for a weapon?"

She shook her head. "I was not raised for the art of war, I'm afraid. I have mine staff, but I fail to see how it wouldst help either thee or me, especially against a demon like you mentioned."

Shit, Thomas thought to himself. They really did send her in more green than a blade of grass. "Well, that's all right," Thomas responded out loud. "Between me, Solaire, and Oscar, you'll be ready to face the Dragon of Calamity itself. For now, let's see about getting you at least some kind of proper weapon. Then you'll be trained while I play Fetch Quest."

Going to Andre, they allowed the smith to give her a look over. "Hm... Royal upbringing, and yet no weapons practice? How'd the lords of Thorolund expect for the lads and lasses to defend the'selves? Ye be green as a field, lass." Andre, gruff as ever, was not one to beat around the bush. "That said, I my have something that can work for ye." Rummaging around in his weapons pile, Andre muttered to himself as he tossed away weapons, before pulling out a strange staff. It was a staff, yes, but at either end was a curved blade. With four feet of staff, and another foot for each blade, the whole thing was just a little bit longer than Rhea was tall. The staff was reinforced, and there was a strange insignia near the center.

Rhea took the battlestaff, giving it an experimental twirl. "Tis heavier than my own staff, but it should suffice. How much doth I owe thee?" Andre shook his head. "The pleasure be mine. Be careful, though. The blades be not just for show. They are sharp as ever."

"All right, Solaire clapped. "Let us begin your own training, young priestess!"

Rhea's voice quavered with worry. "But... I am unused to the rigors of this land. And-"

Thomas waved her worriness off. "This level's pretty easy, all things considered. You're going to grind at the Parish for a bit as training. And we can get some titanite on the side. Don't worry. The Super Astora Brothers aren't going to let anything happen to you. And barring that, we're undead, remember? We have a level of immortality that Mannimarco would envy, himself. And he achieved godhood! You'll be fine."

Rhea still was a touch uncertain, but said nothing. Solaire clapped again. "Then it's settled! Let us train under this most incandescent sun!"

Thomas stayed for a while to observe Rhea's training, but soon left, citing how the butterfly wouldn't off itself with it's own lasers. As they watched him leave, Rhea motioned over to Oscar. "This god of his. Ormagöden. Did'st thou ever hear of it?"

Oscar merely shook his head. "He never mentioned it, back when he saved me from the Asylum... Mayhaps we can ask him about this god, once he returns." Oscar had his own reasons for wanting to know. In additionto knowing the god that had sent a prophet, he wished to know more about Ormagöden's prophet, as well. "Come," he then responded. "Let us resume your training."

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Thomas was not happy. He was currently fighting the Moonlight Butterfly. Alone. Because Beatrice's summon sign wasn't there. Mysteries upon mysteries in these damned woods. As he avoided yet another blast from the butterfly, he kept a careful eye on it's movements, before charging another Soul Arrow. Just as with the others, the Butterfly gave no indication as to how much damage the arrow actually did. Pulling out his Talisman, he reapplied Magic Barrier, and resumed dodging, take potshots where he could. So far, the blasted thing remained out of reach of his Soul Whip, or else he would have attempted to grapple the fucker. "Yeah, yeah, I get it," Thomas grumbled, narrowly dodging a laser blast that barely grazed his robes, singing them with magical energy. "You're pretty. Pretty fucking ANNOYING!" Loosing another bolt, Thomas struck it square in the face, and the Butterfly retaliated by releasing a constant stream of moonlight energy from it's face, catching the sorcerer square in the chest.

Knocked on his back, Thomas griped as he swigged some estus as he got back up, observing the butterfly landed to dine on some the flowers on the bridge. "Now I've got you, you floating moonlight bastard." Drawing his Zweihander from his inventory, Thomas immediately two handed a jump attack, and started wailing. Before he could finish it off, however, it started charging it's AOE attack. "Recharge Stamina, recharge," he muttered, backing up as he pulled out his catalyst. The butterfly blasted, and started to float away. "Not today, motherfucker! Soul Whip!" He managed to snag a wing of the butterfly, and yanked. Drawing his claymore, he chopped at it, and the wing proved to be just as fragile as it looked, the entire chunk of wing simply sliced off. In spite of the Butterfly's vain attempts to stay afloat, it slowly drifted downward, blasting a part of the bridge with it's lasers as it did so. Thomas stood on the stone railing of the bridge, looking over the still-falling butterfly's body as it spiraled, and jumped, letting out his war cry. "For Earthrealm!" As he plunged downward, he soul whipped the horn of the moonlight butterfly, using it to control his descent so that he landed on the center of the body, where he plunged his claymore where he thought the heart would most likely be.

The Moonlight Butterfly shuddered, and Thomas pulled at the horn as he descended, snapping it off. I've got BOSS WEAPONS! Thomas thought, immediately remembering Happy Souls. His next thought went to the rapidly approaching ground. "Oh, fuck me." Wha-crunch! After a few minutes, Thomas got up, claymore in his left hand, Moonlight Butterfly Horn in his right, to observe that the Stone Guardians were already starting to get up, and those that were already up were marhing towards him. "... shit."

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Clang! Rhea blocked and attack with one of the blades of her staff, and twisted, slicing into the unprotected belly of the Balder Knight with the other blade. "Thinkest I that I be getting the hang of this," she muttered as she took a Balder Shield from the fallen knight. Looking at the shield, she weighed it in her hand. "Tis heavy... and rather unwieldy. I cans't use this."

"No," Solaire responded, "Maybe not... But mayhaps Thomas can? The shield he currently has is already beaten and battered. This looks to be a major improvement, comparatively speaking." Taking the shield in his hands, he tested it's weight, admired it's balance. "Hmm. Tis solid craftsmanship indeed, it seems. Though I do prefer mine own shield. Perhaps he would..."

"I would."

Thomas' voice caught them by surprise. Oscar was the first to turn to the prophet of Ormagöden, but what he saw made him reel back. "Oh my," Rhea responded.

His robes were pockmarked with burns in various spots, with knicks and cuts opening up other parts of his robes. On his back was a strange spear, seemingly made from two pieces of metal, twisted together into a spiral. His claymore was sheathed, and the zweihander dragged behind him, a few sparks rising where the metal met the ground. His shield was in tatters, and glowed yellow from the aura given off by the talisman he held in the same hand. His face was set and grim, as though he had seen at least twenty battles while he was away. His estus flask hung empty from his hip.

"Thomas, pray tell me thou art okay!" Rhea ran to him, talisman in hand as she cast Great Heal over him. Some of the vigor and color returned to his face, and he forced a smile.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm alive, aren't I? Wait. Don't answer that." He smiled, tottering off to the bonfire as his companions followed him. When Oscar asked why Thomas didn't just use the bonfire before meeting them, he gave another of his weak smiles. "Simple. I didn't feel like resurrecting all the undead soldiers around you. So how much Titanite do you have?"

Rhea meekly pulled out a bag, shards jingling inside. "I do hope that these will suffice..."

Thomas looked inside and crowed. "Suffice! We have enough hear to max out everyone's gear right here, right now!" He stopped for a moment. "Well, okay. only so far on armor. and Oscar's shield needs a rare kind of purified titanite called twinkling titanite. And this spear needs an even more rare form called demon titanite. But don't worry, girl. We got more than enough for what we're doing here. Let's see Andre." With that, the sorcerer tapped the bonfire's coiled sword, instantly feeling revitalized, and proceeded to go downstairs.

"Yo! Hammertime by An-Dre! I got something for you!" The smith perked up as Thomas called on him, and his eyes were drawn to a strange white light in Thomas' hand. It was the size of an orange, and Andre instantly recognized it. "I'd like to give this to you."

"Well, I'll be..." Andre set his hammer down, and took a look at the ember. "I've seen one of these before. It's the ember of a divine blacksmith. Thou wishest give this to me?"

Thomas nodded. "I can't make much use out of it, myself, but you can. By the way, we'll be making use of that ember soon. We just need the materials. And a... Eh. I forget the name. The... gods damn it. You use it to upgrade weapons at bonfires... The Weapons Smithbox! I'd like to buy that." Dishing out the souls, he took the smithbox, and set about getting everyone's gear upgraded. That slogged on for about thirty minutes, but once it was done, they could get back to their adventures. Thomas thanked Andre once again, and they were on their way. "Next stop, the Capra..." The sorcerer's words stuttered, and then failed, as he noticed a dark blue spirit rising from the ground. "...demon..."

Invaded by Spirit of Vengeance Oswald the Punisher

"Excuse me, what?!" Thomas couldn't believe what he was reading, what he was seeing. Oswald of Carim, cleric of Velka, strode towards the group. "Guys... We have so many problems right now."

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AN: so that happened. Yes, the miracle Thomas invented earlier has put his name in as the biggest of sinners. Shit's going to start to get interesting really soon, especially in the anal rodeo...

Don't forget to rate and review, along with any spell suggestions you want to submit! Also, I suppose I can spoil this much. Don't bother making spell suggestions that Thomas can get in "Light" Anor Londo. It's going to be Spoopy Londo the moment he gets there. And instead of regular giants, it will be swarming with Darkmoon Blades who want to keep the heretic from getting ahold of the Lordvessel.