Resignation

Excalibur OSA-29 Tactical Rifle
Manufactured by Excalibur Arms, a non-civilian subsidiary of Heckler & Koch. Fires 7.62x51mm NATO rounds at a rate of 700 rounds per minute out of a 30-round standard magazine. Deals 20-90 damage per hit and quadruples damage on crits.

Neither of the knights hesitated to raise their rifle while sidestepping towards the inner-wall. The Court’s doors faced the windows leading to the backyard, monstrous as it was, of the Estate; it was a two-story drop, but the alternative of finding out how much damage a military rifle would do to him was far less appealing.

John leapt and smashed his body against the window... and felt the barrier’s edge like a wall of steel.

-19HP

The glass shattered and pressed flat against the edge of the barrier the Order had erected. Like a narrow sheath, it wrapped around the Estate building; beyond, the undisturbed world heard nothing of the glass breaking, or of the teenage body slammed against the invisible trap’s walls.

John landed into a dash as glass rained in sharp chunks to the floor. His Eye glowed bright as he suppressed the blessing on the burlier knight, causing him to lock up while John charged him. His ally, however, led John with automatic fire; the bullets were almost guided by the Warlock curse as they tested John’s defenses.

-12HP
-0HP
-9HP
-39HP
-12HP
CRIT! -140HP...

The prompts continued until John had finally gotten too close to the stunned knight for the shooter to risk making a casualty of his brother-in-arms. The knight snapped out of his daze; perhaps he hadn’t the hideous career that Krieg was made to suffer, for he nearly brought his rifle back to bear on John. Thankfully, despite his impressive build, he was a pitiful level 9.

CRIT! Your serpent’s bite deals 738 subdual damage to Order Knight!
Order Knight has been knocked ****!

The man’s bulk began to fall, his arms spasming and peppering the floor with lead as he lost control of his gun. Despite the wild firing, the other knight dashed toward John while brandishing an exaggerated ka-bar in his right and his rifle in his left.

John tossed the **** knight at him with the ease his newfound strength and enchanted leggings afforded him. The second one was shocked while catching his fallen comrade for long enough to let John draw near.

Your serpent’s bite deals 246 subdual damage to Order Knight!
Order Knight has been knocked ****!

The sudden banging against the Court doors told him he didn’t have time to linger. John scooped both rifles up as he continued his run down the hallway; he had to figure out the barrier’s dimensions and find an escape route.

As if in response, his minimap updated: now with a 3-D model, it showed all the parts of the mansion and basement he had seen... and a narrow, shaped barrier that sheathed the mansion like a condom.

Barrier: Brighton Estate, 2nd Floor

Then the window’s edge really was the barrier wall... and the source wasn’t even Lord Brighton. If I’m going to get out of this trap, then I need to find the source... and it’s probably... Everything about the barrier description screamed that it would be an object instead of a caster; he just had to hope the device was not hiding in the basement. For all of Galley’s talk of the vulnerability of the knights below, John had no desire to fend off actual dozens of mind-slaved fighters. But how the Hell do I find it in one of these rooms?!

The Court entrance clicked as the magic locking it fizzled loud enough for John to hear as he neared the elbow of the hall. Spinning about, he reflexively emptied the automatic rifles to wildly shoot down the hall and ward off any who might approach. The bullets ricocheted off of the fortified door as it swung open and, as John abandoned the emptied rifles, revealed a series of golden shields as the veteran knights chased their prey.

John dashed down the short hallway and came to the narrow walkway above the first floor’s foray and master staircase... and waiting for him below, their rifles trained on his position, was a squad of ten more knights with rifles.

John leapt back to the edge of the hallway as the corner of the wall where he had just been was chewed away in the meaty bites of military munitions. This was one giant trap... and I don’t think even Moira knew. Do they trust her? Maybe they don’t... and maybe she can’t help me even if she wanted to. John had presumed her to be the boss, or at least the future boss, of the Order of the Golden Rose... but the day had chipped away at that in a manner not unlike how the rifles below ate at John’s cover. I need to get through them... one way or the other. But without most of my serpent’s style, or any of my summons... wait a mi- Fairy! Can you hear me?!

<Now then, Master? If I’m being honest->

Fairy, the Order is trying to kill me, and I can’t teleport you or anything in here!

The knights led the charge with the Confessors and host of Hospitalers behind them. Lorelei followed in a quick march, a shielding prayer at the ready on her tongue. Cornelius, far more venerable than the healthy lot he chased, snuck a palm-sized phial of pink to his lips and downed its contents as he ran after the host.

Galley and Moira watched as they marched, the former too sure of what to do and the other anything but. Both turned as they felt Lord Brighton’s presence just behind them.

“Stop this,” Moira barely squeaked before her father. His eyebrows twitched; Moira covered her mouth with the lip of her raised shield.

Lord Brighton’s lips pressed thin. “Hound,” he ordered without looking to the robed woman, “leave us: go and help kill the rogue mage.”

“This isn’t right, or justice, or fair.” The Lord’s eyebrow twitched. Galley’s hands hid in her robe; to a careful observer, she seemed armed with something unseen. “Aren’t we the good guys? I won’t pretend to know everything, but I watched him save your Warden... and she’s in love with him.”

Both Brightons reddened a bit... albeit for very different reasons. “I-I-I do no- I mean, perhaps one- that is, I feel for- n-no-!”

“He has truly wounded you.” Moira looked to her father... and the soft, familial pity that sat in his eyes. Despite the relic blade at his hip and the war that now waged outside... something about his elderly features, the business suit he wore, the gentle love in his sad expression... Moira missed her father, and disappointing him crushed her spirit. “You truly... you cannot bring yourself to slay him, can you?”

Moira shook her head as hope budded in her heart.

But Galley smelled the bloodlust... and began to utilize the tool she had stashed in her robes. Shit, but if it isn’t enough...

“I... I have failed to protect you,” Lord Brighton whispered, letting his hands rest on his daughter’s shoulders. The Academy uniform was soft underneath his grip; even with the firm shoulders of a warrior, he thought to when he held the tiny, bright-eyed babe in his arms, and the oaths he swore.

That child now smiled back at him. “You haven’t, father.”

Galley’s eyebrows perked up over gently closed eyes. Whoa... now that’s got some kick.

“I have... because I let him influence you so deeply as to earn your mercy.” Moira’s smile began to shrink. “But worry not: I will ensure he is the last to do so... and never does so again.”

A metal clang on marble flooring. Both Brightons looked to Galley’s feet... where one of the small statues of the Lady now rested. The last time I tried a Four, I nearly broke... but that was when I was still a kid. What about a Five, now? Never risked it, but now...

“You... sought to pilfer our treasures, as well? Avarice well and truly guides you.” Lord Brighton maneuvered back towards Galley, his expression hardened anew. “You will obey, Soulless One... or you will no longer enjoy the Order’s wealth and protection.”

Galley cursed as he approached her. “Then I guess I quit.” Galley could swear Lord Brighton’s Windsor knot grew taut around his neck as she replied.

Moira shook her head, terrified of her father... and tossing a confused glance at Galley. Moira couldn’t understand her sense of apprehension...

Jesus, am I about to use a Five?

“You will not quit... not until the Order takes back what it has loaned to you.”

Galley figured what he meant... and the stakes had suddenly become quite clear. “You’re right...”

Lord Brighton nodded. “Very good. Then you-”

Galley’s left index finger drifted up the now-glowing Caduceus tattoo underneath the massive robe’s sleeve. “... I might as well use the whole Seven.” The dose of magical energy she received from praying into the statue pulsed as she tapped the seventh loop of the entwined serpents, and Lord Brighton realized too late the significance of the azure outline of her enchanted limb.

Moira watched, helplessly, as Galley’s arm cocked back, now sheathed in an azure radiance. Moira’s father caught the change just as Galley’s skin tore open in long streaks across her right arm save for where the tattoo marked her... and he could barely keep his eye upon that terrible limb before it rushed at him. Galley’s fist blurred and filled Lord Brighton’s vision with the catastrophic energy it held. Lord Brighton thought to dodge, had to dodge-!

The fist collided. The Court exploded.

Bullets continued to chew up the bit of hall John hid behind. From where he stood, he could now see the procession led by knights rounding the corner, and soon with them would be the next salvo of Confessor and Hospitaler spells. Bullets or energy whips... fuck. Fairy, listen! Try and get here manually, but only if you can break into this barrier somehow. See if Tricia-

<How do you expect me to- barrier? What->

BOOM.

The long wall that must have made the back of the massive Courtroom suddenly exploded outward, raining the debris of previously-enchanted stone walls down on the knights below. Whatever wave of horrific, violent **** that did so continued on to smash into the outer wall of the estate, shattering the fortifications into further chunks of rock and, as the minimap had already revealed, proving the barrier by having all of the falling chunks bounce inward.

John watched, half in awe and in horror, as the knights scrambled to avoid being crushed under the ragged bits of fortress that now rained down from both sides; their reflexes, impressive as they were, still saw some pinned as their arms or legs were crushed underneath flat, raggedly-cut chunks of stone. Screams of pain called out to Hospitalers summoned to a Court, but John had no time to pity their lot: whatever the source of the explosion, he had to take advantage of its distraction. With a click of his disguised fairy slippers, he switched off the glamour that hid his magical equipment and swapped it for invisibility.

But if they could ignore displacement, invisibility will probably just buy me seconds, if that... Well, here goes nothing. John readied to jump down among the knights: he'd knock any out who saw him, work his way towards the armoury, and fetch the impressive hardware that might cause him trouble as this makeshift dungeon continued to come after him. After that, he strategized, transmitting to Fairy as he dashed towards the center staircase and past the new gash in the wall, I'll try and corner one of these jackasses, use the Eye on him, and figure out where the barrier is coming from. I just need to hide long enough to get out of here!

John glanced through the gash in the wall, ready in case this was the power of Lord Brighton or one of his Court members. He took in the long crater of torn up stone, the bits of wood that remained of the enchanted table, and the throne that had been warped into a funnel of gold left pointing at the carnage. Destruction had blasted a ragged hole through the entire Court, destroying all in its path... and John followed that path to its source.

Moira stared, stunned, at Galley.

Galley stared at her outstretched fist as blood flowed liberally from arteries and veins all burst along her arm. Her elbow had been turned to powder; her shoulder was broken in three places; her rib cage, due to the slightest lack of proper form in her strike, was bruised; and every finger in her right hand had been snapped in at least three places apiece. Good thing... I can only feel... most of this... Galley smirked until she coughed a bit of bloody spittle; her eyes squinted with tears. Her arm wanted to fall to her side as useless and busted as it had become.

But Brighton held her broken fist to his chest, with his own, massive left hand, where she had struck him. He had meant to catch it, to try and neutralize its power… but it delivered all it intended, and Lord Brighton struggled to ignore the pain of a cracked bone. But it was not his chest that put a furrow in the old Lord’s brow: behind him, where the rest of the Hound’s--no, the traitor’s--destructive power carried, he heard the screams and groans of the knights… of his men. His children, after Moira, and the men and women who had entrusted their lives to him as they served the Order… now injured, maimed, perhaps killed… who among them? Lord Brighton did not exaggerate: he knew them each… and for each, he would extract vengeance to any who would hurt them.

The traitor in his grasp did not meet his eye. She did not dare, he surmised.

John's eyes went wide as he nearly cleared the gap, now invisible, and saw Galley's nearly-fatal state... and, half-hiding her body, the now-naked form of William Brighton.

Lord William Brighton
Level 65 Duelist
<Lord-Protector of the Golden Rose>
HP: 16,080/28,760
MP: 2,041/2,041

As the dust settled enough to see, all took in William's body: normally hidden behind conservative suits, the network mesh of deep-cutting scars, skin grafts, and patches of blackened flesh where even the Lady could not protect him from curses or divine evil now littered his body. Moira had seen him this way once; she had been sixteen when she stormed into his bath to complain about her station, demanding the powers and duties of the Warden without his oversight. She thought it would shock him and his conservative senses by running in while he bathed. But her Warden demands died as she looked at what a true Warden’s duty left behind in her father’s flesh. She had cried the rest of the week at her own insolence; here, with the horrific bloodlust bubbling inside her father, she struggled with a mixture of emotions.

Galley's fist had made a small concave in his chest... but it seemed a minor addition amid the myriad paths of claws and blades that preceded it.

Lord Brighton's words were... calm. Terrifyingly calm. "Do you know why I do not wear armor as a Lord of the Order?" He squeezed her hand. Another bone popped. Galley squeezed her mouth shut as she shouted her pain. Her knees buckled, but still he pinned her to him by her shattered hand. "Because it was not until I gave up the Warden's shield to my beloved daughter that I realized: the Lady is my shield, the Lady is my sword... and the Lady is my armor. It is the Lady who entrusted her children to me… and I will never falter in answering any who threaten them."

John's teeth squeezed until they threatened to bleed. His body shook. He needed to keep going; he couldn't take on Lord Brighton, not now. He couldn't possibly-

"I recognize your resignation, Soulless Hound," Lord Brighton whispered before hoisting Galley's struggling body up by her tortured limb, "and take back the Lady's property."

Moira's eyes went wide. "Fa-" But the old man’s free hand had already drawn the blade.

Galley screamed as she fell to the floor... while her arm remained held aloft in Lord Brighton's grip.