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Will-O-Wisp

I bobbed up and down with the fog surrounding me as I roved the forest that was my home. There wasn't much to see, but I was always on the lookout for something new! A few white and black trees passed me, a few furry green ones too, when I found it; a strange creature in a dull brown-red shell!

I giggled as I bolted around it, admiring myself in the reflection of a few spots where shiny metal surfaced. I was quite a pretty ball of light, if I do say so myself. Eventually I got bored of just looking at my prize and began poking around it, slowly moving one of its limbs a bit before it'd slip past me, making me fly forward for a brief moment before I caught myself. I looked at it some more, and suddenly an urge overcame me; a new exciting idea! I plunged into its chest and things began to change. 

I woke up and rubbed my head, with a killer headache. 

'Wait, what?'

That wasn't normal. I moved the offending appendage into my vision; it was the… knights limb. The word interjected itself to me, seemingly without bearing, and it began to click. I had merged with the fallen knight. I was a will-o-wisp, though I wasn't certain if that was an apt term now. Some of this poor fellows' memories leaked into my mind, something about being a ninth son, some thoughts about his last meal, his name, and some incredibly interesting memories of knighthood. I looked around for his, now mine, sword. Aha! A rusty bar of iron! I picked it up with glee, glad to be reunited with a blade. It wasn't quite how I remembered though, not the slightly shiny and sharp tool of its prime. Light leaked from my eyes as I peered at it and tried to think, hungrily reaching for remnants of knowledge on how to deal with this tragic twist.

It came to me in a flash! I needed a whetstone! I searched for his pack, and after a brief moment found it behind where I lay. The leather was a bit damaged, but that was no big deal, it was to be expected in such a humid environment as this forest. My body also had been in a most unsatisfying state before I had claimed it, holes and rot all over. As I was in a cheery mood, I forgave the pack and flipped its top, revealing the whetstone. I grabbed it and laid it down next to my sword and began to try to grind it, a difficult task while lying down.

This wasn't working. I let go of the whetstone and shortsword and began to move my legs, getting a bit of practice before I made one of the most ambitious moves of my rather short life; I stood up before seating myself in a manner which gave me good leverage over the whetstone and then grabbed my sword once more, and begun to grind once again. 

After around 10 minutes I began to see some of the rust fall away. I don't think my host had been dead for terribly wrong, as the rust was very surface level and would've been much worse otherwise, though my sword would still be in bad condition once I finished cleaning it off. I kept grinding and was rewarded with the growing amount of exposed metal, a most satisfying experience for myself and then I was done; my sword was finally free of the wretched rust! I stood up and grinned, then swung my sword a few times to get used to it. A few more memories leaked in of some rudimentary practice with the sword, from his younger days it seemed. His movements seemed silly and inefficient. I would never be as boorish! I looked around and saw… a bunch of fog. Honestly, I don't know what I was expecting. I grabbed my rucksack and rusty shield, both of which I tied behind my back with a neat bit of fraying rope I found in the pack, and began to walk in a straight line, sword in hand and ready for adventure!

I had been walking for around 30 minutes before the fog began to lessen up, to my excitement. This meant I was on the right path.

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After a few more minutes of walking, both the forest and fog let up, revealing a dirt road and glaringly bright mid-day sun high in the sky. I closed my eyes partially, trying to adjust to the blast of light and blinked a few times. Not much light made it past the visor, so I acclimated quickly.

After adjusting my vision I noticed a blackened spot, covered in soot and ash, by the road. Must've been a bonfire I thought, though it was awfully big. I walked to the road, not paying it any mind.

When I got to the road I began to walk down it. My hosts memories told me something called a war was going on, and that meant I would have plenty of opportunities to do what I most desired; a good fight! 

I marched down the road for a few hours, day turning to dusk, and then I heard it; the splendid song of steel! A ring of metal came from the distance. My proverbial heart began to race, and I began to run in the direction of the noise, a grin breaking across my face! After a couple of minutes a wonderful sight greeted my eyes; a carriage and a small troop of soldiers fighting a group of green skinned barbarians… orcs! The word popped up in my mind with a tinge of hate. My host didn't seem to like them very much, apparently they violated his code of chivalry, a principle that was core to being a knight. I liked the feeling 'knight' gave off and I was hungry for battle, so I began to run towards them.

As I got close I was finally noticed. An orc broke off from the main group and turned towards me, a snarl across its brutish face as it brandished its axe. It was an ugly thing, nothing compared to my refined features, and wore a most undistinguished primitive fur loincloth. I stopped a bit outside of the range of its axe and readied myself for the fight.

The orc growled and began to close the distance, then dashed forward and swung his axe. I sidestepped and, moving more quickly than he clearly expected, sliced off his axe arm. The axe was a savage weapon, no grace required, so he deserved nothing more. He roared in pain, reeling from the shock and lunged forward, moving my dominant hand(my right hand) to redirect my sword into his throat.

I did not behead him, my original goal, but it did the trick. The orc fell, curling up as his left hand went to his throat, blood pouring out of it and mouth frothing with pinkish foam and making a gurgling sound. I frowned, ignoring the noise of battle beyond me. My skill left much to be desired, I should've beheaded him; I glanced down at him, irritated, and impaled my sword between his eyes, it's bluntness robbing me of the clean cut I desired. Truly disappointing, I would need to sharpen my sword more it would seem. I looked up from the corpse to see the battle coming to a close; one particularly burly orc was left, with a heavily armored soldier opposing him. I sat down and began to clean my blade as I watched the two fight. It went on for a couple minutes, but both parties were clearly exhausted and in the end skill and equipment won out. The armored soldier took a glancing hit, but eventually gutted the unarmored orc when he overextended. The soldier looked at me and immediately brought his guard up again and shouted, "Name yourself, friend or foe!"

I looked at the man. A name came to mind.

"I am Sir William, a wandering knight! I have no desire to fight you, when my blade is in such an unsatisfactory state!"

The words felt strange coming from my mouth, never having spoken before.

Helgos didn't like it. A strange, rust covered self proclaimd knight had randomly appeared after his company's battle with a roving orc band. No self respecting knight would ever let their armor reach a state. Still, he was exhausted from his duel so he pretended not to care. 

"Sir William, what is your purpose here?" He shouted.

He had let his guard down a little at this point, the man was sitting after all. 

"I merely wish to improve my skills and aid the righteous against orc savagery!"

The reply was swift and full of flattery. Helgos glanced past the seated knight and saw an orc corpse. The body was in a terrible state, with the skull partially caved in. Orc or not, this man fought savagely and with unusual strength. Still, he sheathed his sword and back-stepped to the carriage, keeping his eyes on the potential threat. A round of whispers went back and forth between him and the passengers inside.  He pulled back and stared at 'Sir William', thoughts flying through his head. Then, he made a decision.

"Sir William, I insist upon compensating you for your assistance and come to you with a request! Will you help me finish the delivery of my lady to her destination? I will provide you with a fresh sword and a handsome sum should you do so, something you appear to be in dire need of if the state of your equipment is anything to go by!"

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