Night had fallen upon the nation of Lescatie. The nobles slept within their marble walls while the serfs and poor got took their rest where they could. Whether it be behind stone walls and thatch roofs, or out in the street with the stars as their blankets. The lights of taverns and inns illuminated the cobblestone streets, the occupants doing what they could to forget their miserable lives for another few hours. But even these poor fools managed to sleep soundly within this, the most powerful of the Order's nations. For all were confident in the walls that protected from the monsters just outside. All had certainty that, should any attack happen, the enchantments created by their Mage Heroes would alert the military before it was too late.
However, none but the wise and observant knew that, while the enchantments were potent, they were not invincible. Someone, or something, stronger than the Mage Heroes could easily break through the protections. Or, in the worse case scenario, get inside Lescatie without tripping a single one. With the right manipulation of mana, they could appear in the middle of the capital city in but a flash. And none would be aware until it was too late.
It was this exact set of circumstances that allowed for a tear in reality to appear within the slums of Lescatie's capital. The tear appeared with a single sound, cracking through the open air in the shape of a lightning bolt behind a long abandoned home. It grew in length and width, becoming large enough for a person to step through. The yawning black hole in reality sat unfazed by the limitations of the rest of the world. The passed through it like one would walk through water. the cobblestones below it were flattened and smooth until there wasn't a single sharp edge left in them. Even the dim light of the moon seemed to actively avoid shining upon this bleeding wound in existence.
It remained open for precisely three seconds. Within that time a dark figure emerged from within before falling face first onto the ground. And precisely one second after they emerged, the tear disappeared. Put out like a candle's flame with nary a sound. The only hint of its existence being the figure that had fallen out of it. Said figure remained on the ground for five minutes. Silent and unmoving.
Then its hands started to twitch. A moment later it was pushing itself up by its elbows. Then it used its palms to get to one knee. Its body was covered head to toe in cloak made of living shadow. Darkness itself seemed to coalesce around it body, hiding any specific features from anything short of looking at its face directly. The cloak seemed to move with the creature, hugging its body without being affected by the cold wind at all.
However, while the cloak was intact, its wearer certainly was not. The moment they got to their feet, they went into a coughing fit. Blood fell from beneath their hood, staining the front of their cloak with crimson ichor. The first bit of color to mark their outfit. And it was quickly joined by more, as the wearer's coughing fit kept going. By the time it was over, they were back on one knee while the front of their outfit was entirely stained red with blood.
"Damn fools," the wearer croaked out, voice hoarse and dry. They didn't bother to wipe the blood from their mouth as they stood, "trying to banish me to a...a Night Road. Least they could've done is...let me...die in my homeland."
The wearer groaned as while forcing themselves to stand up. They hunched forward, one hand holding their stomach as they gasped, "Running out of time...won't make it...damn them...ruined everything. But at least...at least I can leave a legacy...leave something behind."
For the briefest of moments, the cloak's wearer's face became visible as a navy blue light shined from within their eyes. It revealed the bloodied face of an old man on the verge of death. Perhaps, in the past, one could say he was handsome. But now a patchwork of deep wounds marred his face. A fresh vertical cut ran from the top of his head down to his collarbone. Instead of eyes he had twin golden clocks within the sockets, both spinning quickly the light exploded from within. Both of the clocks were cracked and missing their hour hands, the minute hands ticking slower and slower by the second. A bit of the skin on his temple was missing, revealing gold plated bone underneath. He was missing multiple teeth and his lips were cracked and bleeding.
A moment later, the light disappeared. The old man grimaced, "Urgh...such a...depraved world this is. And these Fated Ones...so foolish and naive...but they will...have to do."
He turned toward the west and began walking, one hand reaching into the center of his cloak. He dragged his feet as he disappeared into Lescatie's capital city, looking for his prey.
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Wilmarina Noscrim ran through the corridor, arm over her eyes as pain and anguish raged in her heart. She didn't even acknowledge the few people out at this time of night as she ran through the city. She couldn't bring herself to stop for even a second. Because if she did, she's have to acknowledge the painful truth that would make her break.
That her childhood friend, El, didn't remember her.
That they couldn't go back to the way things were.
That her position as a "hero" meant the two could never be together.
She knew, deep down, that if she ever began to believe those things, she'd break. Her heart would shatter and she wouldn't be able to go on. Not like this. Not without knowing that the memories that had kept her going all this time weren't for nothing. Without the certainty that the bond between her and El was still there. That the two of them could still...
She cried into her arm, the armored muffling the sound so that no one else could hear her. She kept running, instinct carrying her toward her office deeper in Lescatie. But as she turned a corner, she collided with a large hard surface. She stumbled backward, her talents as a Hero helping her keep balance and look at who she had run into. Her mouth opened to apologize while her eyes barely registered the cloaked stranger in front of her, "I'm sorr-"
It happened in an instant.
One moment she was apologizing.
The next she felt something stab through her chest.
Her words were cut short a new pain filled her heart. A physical one. Slowly she looked down to see what had happened. And what she saw made her mouth open wide in shock.
The stranger had stabbed her.
Through the chest.
With a bright blue crystal the size of her fist.
"Children of Man...," Wilmarina was barely aware of the stranger's words. She tried to do something, anything. To pull out her sword, to punch, to kick, to do something. But her body was failing her. She couldn't move a muscle and while she slowly lost all feeling in her body. The stranger let the crystal go, but it seemed to sink deeper into her chest on its own. She managed to reach out for the stranger, but only managed to unbalance herself. She fall face first onto the ground with a thump. Darkness crawled along the edge of her vision as she slowly lost consciousness. The stranger said something else, but she couldn't understand it anymore. She tried to speak, to scream, to say anything to him. But no words left her lips. And no one seemed to be coming to help her. Her body grew colder as the man limped toward her, picked her up, then threw her over his shoulder. Then he started to walk toward her home.
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The last thing Wilmarina thought before her vision went dark...was the face of her childhood friend. Not the one who looked at her with awkwardness. Not the one who didn't remember their time together. Not the one she had seen carrying Merse on his back.
The one that had made her a ring out of flowers.
"El..."
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Elt stopped in his tracks as a sudden chill went up his back. He turned around, nervousness evident on his face. He had just given Merse the documents from Lady Wilmarina, and was on his way home. But something on the edge of his perception told him to stop. He couldn't put his finger on exactly why he felt he had to. He just knew it.
Behind him the city street seemed normal. There were a few people still out and about even this late at night. The moon and stars illuminated the street, though they couldn't reach the darkest corners. Elt's eyes scanned the road from left to right, trying to spot anything out of the ordinary. He stayed still only a few steps away from Merse's home as he waited.
And waited.
And waited.
But nothing happened.
His shoulders slumped as he let his guard down for but a moment. Then he turned around, ready to get going.
Then something stabbed him in the chest.
"...Destined to Fall..."
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Someone was in her home.
Merse rolled out of bed, pulling a knife from her bedside table as she got to her feet. Her singular eye was narrowed while adrenaline numbed the effects of her hangover. She went to the door to her bedroom, kicked it open, then shouted out, "Who's there?! Show yourself!"
Despite her threatening display, no one came running out into the open. Her home was completely silent. But she knew better than to trust that. Scowling she slowly made her way out the door and down the stairs. She held her knife ready in her right hand, while her eye darted from left to right. She quickly noted that the front door was still closed and none of the windows on the first floor had been opened. All of her furniture was still in place, and she couldn't see any obvious footprints on the wood floor. She walked on the balls of her feet, careful to keep her steps as silent as possible.
She got to the center of the living room when she heard it. The slightest creak of the floorboards behind her.
With speed rivaling a werewolf, she turned with her knife held up and aiming for her opponent's neck. Her eye caught sight of an old man's bloodied face as her weapon grew closer to his jugular. Eye widening in shock she forced herself to a stop, knife held just before her target's neck.
It proved to be a mistake.
A second later, she felt something stab her in the chest. Her knife fell from her hand as the feeling left her arm.
"...Accept this Gift..."
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"Someone's here, Sasha."
Sasha Fullmoon stood up from her praying. Her deep purple eyes glanced left to the indigo ones of Primera Concerto. The half-elf had her bow held at the ready, while her gaze was locked on the door to the orphanage's church. Sasha turned around to see who had drawn her companion's attention.
Walking up the isle, his footsteps not making a sound, was an old man covered in a pitch black cloak. He was limping along, feet dragging along the creaking wooden floor. He was holding something over his shoulder, but Sasha couldn't see what it was. She still smiled and put her hands together, "Greetings. Are you lost, stranger? If you need help, we can offer you succor. Though I'm afraid that-"
"Sasha," Primera stepped forward while beginning to knock an arrow, "Something's wrong. Stay back."
Sasha frowned at the elf, "Primera, put that down. This man is clearly injured. We should be trying to help him."
Primera didn't lower her bow, "I'm telling you that something's off about...wait a minute. What he's carrying...that's...that's Elt?!"
"What are you-"
Three seconds passed.
Within the first second, the old man suddenly sped up. He closed the distance between himself and Sasha in a single step. His right arm shot forward as he buried a fist sized blue crystal in Sasha's chest.
By the second, Primera had fired her shot at where the old man used to be. Her eyes widened as she realized he moved faster than she could track. She pulled out another arrow but he was already in front of her.
By the third, an identical crystal was shoved into Primera's chest.
"...this Blessing..."
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Mimil didn't even get the chance to strike back. She was woken from her fitful sleep by the sound of their door creaking open. The second her eyes caught the outline of the black cloaked figure, he blurred forward.
The crystal was in her chest before she even saw it.
"...this Curse..."
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Fransica was the last and her experience was almost identical to Mimil's. However, she got the clearest view of the old man before she lost consciousness. She was the one who saw the clocks where his eyes should be. The line that run from his head to his collarbone. The peeled skin revealing a gold plated skeleton beneath. The missing teeth and cracked lips. But, the primary thing she saw before she fell, was the fact that the man was dying.
And as darkness overtook her vision, she saw the arm that held the crystal turn to dust. Leaving naught but a black sleeve behind.
"...that you may...stand...Above them...All...," and thus the Man Who Lost His Name turned to dust. His remains fell to the floor before catching alight and burning away, leaving no trace behind. Not even his cloak survived, the long spent Artifact breaking down until it became part of the shadows of Fransica's room. His final act giving those fated to Fall a chance. A chance to change their fate. To change the fate of this world.
But, above all, a chance to make their mark on this world forevermore. To ensure that no one would forget them for countless eons.
And thus, as they were remembered, so too would he be. As the one who gave them what they needed to do this.
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Six Maidens and their Knight fell tonight. Under the light of the moon, they died as mortals.
But by the light of the morning sun, they rose as something more. They rose bound to the Words Of Creation. The very concepts that made up their world. Giving them power beyond that of even the greatest of Heroes.
For when they rose, they were no longer mere mortals.
They were Godbound.
And this is their story.
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What? I said I was gonna do it someday. Guess that day is today.
Now, I do want to put forth a few things before I get started:
1. No this story won't replace A Hunter's New Home. That Fic will remain the primary one I'm working on. Updates to this one will likely be more sporadic and not happen very much. But I will try to give my all in writing them as always.
2. This story will be based on the Godbound Tabletop RPG. You can download the Free Edition from DTRPG for...free. And it has everything you need to learn how things are gonna work going forward. Or at least explains some of the terminology. Some stuff I will be bringing in from the Deluxe Edition that does cost money, but you don't really need it to know what's going on. I'm gonna try my best to explain things.
3. Unlike A Hunter's New Home, you can expect actual smut going forward. I'm planning to keep Elt's Harem the same, but hopefully have it make more sense in this fic. And actually work, considering one of Elt's Words is Passion. So, even though none of the Maidens will be turning into Mamono here, you can still expect sex scenes.
4. I'm gonna be treating this more narrative than mechanical when it comes to the story. Thus, many of the limitations that Godbound have on them for gameplay balance won't necessarily apply here. So, if you don't like fics where Elt and Friends can overcome most but not all opposition, you probably don't want to read this.
5. I'll post the character sheets later.
With all that out of the way, lets begin.