CyberKnight's keep
Huh. Seems the new sandbox likes kicking me out of the editor mid-writing, I'll likely have to keep using this to write the stories and copying it to Sandbox-III.
If I leave something in vain of //Enter, Example (Great, At, Memorization)// then I forgot to remove it. Just ignore it, I normally only use it to remember when a characters traits at the ready.

this place was never clean

"By the ancients! What in Mun’ro is that?!"

Sailors worked without abandon as snow pelted onto them, every breath forming misty clouds as they fought against the rough sub-Antarctic spring winds. Blacksmiths scurried to collect their crates as thuds sounded from the dock. Near the ship, merchants looked at the stone fortress in the villages’ center. Leading the front of the group, stood the peculiar figure, concealed beneath luxurious purple robes.

The leader of the group moved to the side of this figure, standing firm as she spoke with a raspy voice, "Daemon, we've waited in this frozen abyss of an island long enough. We've upheld our end, where is your part of the bargain." She awaited, the wind amplifying the unexpected silence, "Now."

Its voice, warped and unnatural, "Patience," It began to turn. And as it did, a face of endless jade swirls appeared, "Patience, my old friend,"

"They brought it here, they killed the baron! So, Kill them! Kill them all!"

Flames rising from the hearth roasted the pig above, filling the mead hall with smells of comforting smooth smoke and pork, warmness almost unavoidable even in the winter months. Sudden quick thundering knocks broke the comfort of half-asleep guards. One of them grabbed their Carnyx and blew it, causing a tune of loud whistling, calling forth fellow guardsmen. As they arrived, then assembled before the gate wielding their pikes two-handed.

As the door opened, a cold drift entered the room, pikes lifted in anticipated thrust. “Esteemed baron!” gasped a gritty voice from the door, “They're here, with-” The herald choked on his tongue as the door opened.

The baron looked ahead, and spat a fiery voice, "Inbred fucking peasant.” His features struggled to not give into tiredness, “Disband!” The warriors dispersed from the shield wall, grumbling and complaining.

“You." The baron pointed at the Herald, "Explain that idiocy you displayed, else I'll have you flogged!”

“Shi-" The herald turned around and stood at attention, "I was, uh, knocking, I've seen Wastelanders notify their entrance such a fashion, sire.”

The Barons' face formed a cloak of disappointment, "Ancestors weep," His voice weakened, "If he came without news, execute-"

“M- Merchants come with much-wanted charcoal, baron, and they want to talk about… Wonders! Yes, Wonders!"

The baron looked unimpressed and tired, sickly tired, “Get these merchants," The weakness in his voice confused the herald, "Now.” The baron gathered his voice, summoning up his strength, “Now! Else I’ll-” No other words were needed, as the herald began to sprint down the hill, his mouth already formulating words of invitation.

"Sire, you can’t keep hiding this illness,” The priest walked up to the Baron. Before continuing on, gestured the guardsmen to leave, “It has even clouded your judgement. What if those merchants are the rumored assassins?"

"They are, the charcoal merchants were called off."

"What?" The Priest adopted a shocked expression, "If you know, then why don't you just execute them?"

"It wouldn’t change anything." The Baron started to slack, "In every single scenario, I'll be dead, the castle will burn, and the artifact, stolen."

"Why are you giving up so easily then? You could rest, we could bolster the defenses, and hide the artifact."

"It’s destined to happen, we can change the circumstances, but not the fate. I’ve decided this way, this way, (…) this (…) way will-" The Baron collapsing, the priest ran to the Baron, quickly supporting his weight, "Sire! You need to set down.”

"Sigma, gather the monks, sail to the capital. Warn the Emperor." The Baron struggled to walk, barely holding onto the arms of the priest as he limped back to the chair, "Warn… that Arantu’s Normalcy will… shattered once more." The Baron was sat down upon his throne and he closed his eyes.

Sigma walked off, pretending the Baron's plead was distraught ramblings from his disease. Familiarity spoke to him, "Listen. To. The. Gate." Sigma looked behind himself, startled, "Whose there?" He walked back into the throne room, his eyes faulty as he saw no baron or guards. He rubbed his eyes, and yet still no baron or guards, the quietness of the room, was he the diseased one? The gate! Listen to the gate, he remembered.

“Sigma, revelation is upon us,” Familiarity said, “I have a deal to make with you.”

“Ah, and what would that deal be, Familiarity?” Asked Sigma, joyfully.

“Before I tell you what must be done, I’ll have to show you what will happen.”

“Wait, wh-” The door turned to mist, revealing a city in the desert; in flames.

Sigma walked through the gateway and into the city, distant blades and yells echoed through the street as he looked at his surroundings.

Why did I listen to Familiarity… It then came across his mind, Who is Familiarity, and where did I learn its name?

His thinking was cut short when two knights in black platemail threw the door open, almost stumbling back when they saw Sigma, both groups frozen stiff.

They yelled strange words that made little sense to Sigma, "Bī wësen Brouders! Saraceni Gebūre!

"Send out the longboats! Don't let them escape with the sundia-"

The man felt weak and stunned, vision now fading. He struggled to look down at his own intestines, closing his eyes as he felt warmness rush from his throat.

Per'c pulled his jade spike back and melted it back into a stub. It looking towards the horizon, the tower burning all around it. Watching as the two ships left in opposing horizons, one longboat, and one Junk. Before sitting in a crossed-leg fashion, observing the rise of the morning sun.

"Another era, has passed."