finished death log

######You are connected to *A hollow set of knight's armor*

*A hollow set of knight's armor*: On the forgotten battlefield, thousands of skeletons, still draped in their old armor, lay. They clutch their weapons as dearly as they did the day they died. And amidst the gleams of tattered silver and steel, one strange corpse remains: its armor is black, surrounded by the remains of what was once a beautiful crimson cape. It lay as motionless as the rest, unresponsive to the harsh wind.

**Death**: In the shadows lurked a boy that, at first glance, had no right being here. No older than twenty, pale skinned, and long limbed, he wandered through the battlefield like a man on a mission, dark cloak curled close around him. He moved as if he had been here a thousand times before, peering around for something that he had not noticed before. The black armor drew him like a moth to a flame, and after a minute of close examination, he looked around for whoever may have once worn it. "If you're here," he said, voice carrying a surprising way, "I'm not here to hurt you. I want to take you home."

*A hollow set of knight's armor*: The wind carried on, careless to the boy's words. The dirt and grass swayed about ceaselessly, and the tattered cloth flapped continually about.

But something stirred.

The armor was partly buried, and plants bloomed around it and within it. It was anchored to the ground, and time would have had it become a part of it. Slowly, though, it creaked, and a pair of metal greaves planted their palms firmly down. The armor lifted itself, almost zombielike, and slowly turned its head to the boy. It remained kneeling, staring at him with hollow eyes.

**Death**: The boy was expecting a visitor from the shadows. A figure stepping out from behind a pile of ruined building, the ghost of a warrior long forgotten. This was, after all, how it always went. Spirits hardly wandered too far from where they fell- the warrior needed to be around somewhere.

When the armor moved, he jumped back, nearly expecting some attack. That, too, was common. Spirits forgotten for too long went sour, and their favorite meal was those supposed to take them into the beyond.

Except, there was no ill intent, it seemed. He relaxed his shoulders with a curious glance, stepping back towards the armor and crouching down, so they would be at eye contact. "You're in the armor, aren't you?"

*A hollow set of knight's armor*: "I... I..."

A woman's voice, meek and as hollow as the armor itself, emanated. Perhaps it once belonged to a proud warrior, but what was it now?

It stared at its hands, rusted steel creaking with every move of the joints. "...can't feel my skin..." It paused. "...freezing." It slowly made to remove its glove, but stopped itself - it didn't seem the right thing to do. It was dazed. What had happened?

It grunted, trying to stand on its feet, but nearly stumbled and fell. "Wh... who are you..?" It didn't know what was happening, but it had to stand.

**Death**: His first instinct was to help the armor stand. He offered it his hand, standing upright himself. He had no idea how long the armor had been here- the battle had been won and lost before he even arrived. All that he could do was settle himself in to deal with the aftermath. "My name is Simon," he said. "I'm a friend. I'd like to learn more about you, if that's alright."

*A hollow set of knight's armor*: The armor's gauntlet clasped Simon's and it was slowly able to bring itself to a stand. "I feel... sick..."

*A hollow set of knight's armor*: It clutched at its throat. "C... Callisto." A strange name - this woman had come from a faraway land just to die. "...Captain of the Fourth Brigade. S-servant of... Lord Sloan." That sounded right.

**Death**: "Callisto," Simon repeated. His voice was soft, eager, as he gently lead the suit of armor away from where he found it. There were piles of rubble nearby that, at the least, would make a good bench. "You're very far from home, Miss Callisto. Do you remember what you were doing here?"

*A hollow set of knight's armor*: It... No, she. She couldn't feel her face. Her gaze was unfocused, and she passively allowed herself to be lead to the fallen rubble. There was supposed to be a wall there, she thought.

She combed her memories. Something something... "Glory of Leharta." And then... "They had to pay for what they did. But I never saw them do it." None of her men did. "We fought..." But why couldn't she remember? Was the war really so petty?

Her helm was aimed at him again, but a gaze was now more firmly locked to his eyes. "Wh... Who are you again? What is your purpose?"

**Death**: "They had to pay for what they did... Who had to pay? And for what?" A pause, and Simon's look turned soft as he allowed her to sit down. "It's alright if you don't remember. It may come back with time. You must have been here for a while before I found you."

People usually asked about him. He sat next to her, running a hand through unruly black curls. "My name is Simon. Simon Abner. I'm... It's a little hard to explain. How long have you been here?"

*A hollow set of knight's armor*: "I don't know," her voice wavered. Simon... his name was Simon Abner. She was Callisto Somethingorother. Her... her surname will come with time, yes.

It was an invasion into the west. From the mountainous land of Leharta, it was said, endless armies spilled into the vast plains of the east. But their unstoppable force was said to be repelled, and the Lehartans retreated. On their border now stood a great and unbreakable wall.

Callisto knew none of this, simply playing with her hands in her lap. "I... I want to go now. I never want to be here again." Her tone was wracked with anxiety.

**Death**: Simon nodded. He allowed himself to rest his feet for a moment, then stood and turned to her once more. When another gentle smile, he offered his hand to her, as a guiding force. "Let's go for a walk, then. Anywhere that you'd like to go. And I can try to explain what I can do for you."

*A hollow set of knight's armor*: As evident from her little jerk, she seemed to be most pleased by this. There was no way that Callisto would be alone right now. Not when she couldn't feel her own body. "Thhhhhh... Thank you."

Then, her tone hardened. "T... T-take me someplace warm. Someplace sheltered... Someplace with a mirror."

**Death**: Someplace warm. Someplace with a mirror. Simon nodded, the place in mind. It was a little small, but it would certainly fit the both of them. Gently, he took Callisto's hand and tugged her so that she was standing, pulling his hood up with his free hand. "This may be an odd form of travel for you. We can walk, though this is quicker. Do you mind?"

*A hollow set of knight's armor*: Odd. What was odd anymore, anyway? "...No," Callisto answered after a moment. "I prefer the quick option." Her hand squeezed his. She could feel that she was touching him, but she couldn't *feel* him.

**Death**: Simon stepped out of the sun, into the shadow cast by the wall behind them. Darkness overtook the pair of them, nearly suffocating, until they were suddenly somewhere else.

They were in a forest, far from any battlefield. Simon looked around, seeming to gauge his position before he smiled at Callisto and started off in a direction. After just a moment of walking, he came upon a small cabin. "It might be a tight squeeze though the door, but it's warm," he explained as he opened the door. It was only a couple of rooms- a living area, dining area, and a kitchen sitting comfortably in plain sight. As he let Callisto find herself get used to the room, he went to the fireplace, looking to keep the fire going.

*A hollow set of knight's armor*: ...That was definitely unexpected. She'd give Simon that.

Nonetheless, she wasn't too worried. She followed Simon into the cabin, though hesitated as he let go of her hand in order to tend to the fireplace. Very well. She needed to explore, anyways - get a handle of this place.

Weird implements in the kitchen, with some odd safe in the middle. As if by magic, its inside was ice-cold - Callisto decided to avoid it. The furniture in the living area was fine indeed, crafted with skill nearly fit for her Lord. Certainly, as she sat herself on the couch, it was much softer than nearly any she had felt before. She didn't sink very far into it - she seemed to have lost quite a bit of weight.

"This is all... so strange," she murmured, inching closer to the growing flame.

**Death**: Once he set the fire, he settled back onto the couch, somewhat near Callisto. He seemed comfortable here, pulling his hood back down to look curiously at her. His home was an odd mix of modern and vintage, with some decor dating back a couple hundred years. Home was home, though, and he seemed equipped best here.

"It's a lot to take in," he agreed. "Do you have much experience with magic?"

*A hollow set of knight's armor*: "What... No," Callisto denied. She seemed confused. "Magic is magic. Fairytales read to children." Although, it would quite conveniently explain much of the happenings she was experiencing right now. "Wh...ere are you going with this?"

**Death**: There's a moment of hesitation, and he wrung his hands in intense thought before he continued. "When people die, there's often something that lives on a moment. Their spirit, if you will. Sometimes it stays where it is, and sometimes it'll possess various things. There are people with a certain amount of magic that can take these spirits and lead them to the great beyond- That is, the afterlife."

*A hollow set of knight's armor*: Callisto was quiet a long, long moment. Slowly, she lifted her gloved hand again - the one she had refused to take off when she first met Simon. She closed it to a tight fist.

"No," she said. "I... I am not dead."

She felt so empty. And... angry.

Her voice was ice cold. "Are you going to try and take me?"

**Death**: "Yes and no," he replied easily. "Eventually, I'll need to walk with you into the beyond. But, I understand that people have things tying them to our plane. I want to make sure that your business is taken care of before I do anything." There's a moment, then he turned a little, carefully watching Callisto.

"I want to help you, Callisto. I think that there's more happening here than you understand."

*A hollow set of knight's armor*: The hollow eyes of her visor stared into Simon's eyes. "I don't doubt that," She murmured. "But... I don't know why I would ever be tied here. In this terrible form. Did... did I do something terrible?"

She remembered an awful lot of blood. Maybe it was the souls she took in life.

She didn't have any family, at least not any close ones she remembered. She worked for all she had... probably.

Another thought struck her, quite suddenly. Was she at all happy with her life before she died? She must have been... yes? "I don't want to die yet," she whispered. "I'm... I'm not done."

**Death**: He had the decency to look sympathetic. "Some people get tied for no reason. Everybody meets a grim reaper. It's just... When. If you don't get met, then you just stay." He seemed pensive as he looked back at the fire. He had had this conversation more times than he can count, but it never got any easier.

"Nobody is ready to die. Sometimes, it just happens without any rhyme or reason. And I wish that there was more that we could do to stop it- but there isn't. Death doesn't make exceptions."

*A hollow set of knight's armor*: (So sorry, but I GTG. I loved this RP, you're a fantastic writer!)

######Disconnected