"This must be the place. Or at least, I can feel I'm getting closer." Sir Isaac says, investigating the area around him. The place was run down, torn apart, run down again and then sold for parts. And that was before the decades of neglect. Despite that, the new didn't stand out amongst the old. Whomever hid the relic around here, knew what they were doing.

Sir Isaac sits down, taking a rest from the walking and climbing he braved to get here. The Ancense ruins weren't exactly easy to reach, even the more accessible parts of it. It was not much of a problem for someone like him, and in this case for anyone really. Blessed with good luck, he hadn't run into any trouble thus far. Not even a single stray skeleton.

To understand this tale, Sir Isaac has to take you back to a few days prior. Wandering about and looking for wrongdoers and monsters to strike down, Sir Isaac had come to a realisation. He needed something more. Certainly, he was already a renowned swordsmaster and a fabled knight, a hero whose name had spread throughout the lands. The people stared at him in wonder, knowing who he was and what he did. Sure, they might play their amazement off by pretending they weren't star-struck and by not buying him any rounds at the bar, but he knew they idolised him. He was a great and accomplished hero, after all.

But he realised that he was stagnating. A hero, but never a legend. A saga, never an epic. His family sword was mastercrafted, but it was no magical artefact. His armour was of the finest steel, but it was no dragon bone. He was a great knight, but he was no white knight of great power and awe.

No, to transcend to the next level, he needed something more. Something better. Something…

Magical.

Fortunately, he already had something like that. Sir Isaac smiles as he twirls his finger around his moustache, feeling the smooth hairs curl up and reform into their impeccable model once released. His moustache was not just magnificent, it was magical. Some moments when he was in dire straights or when some magic would really dazzle up his heroic acts, his moustache would call upon magic to aid him. Simple spells, apparently. The mages matched his description of his moustache powers to sunburst and consecrate weapon, neither of which was too amazing. But his moustache could cast them, HE could cast them.

The rest was simple. If he could use magic without his swordsmanship being harmed by it, a common problem for most mages and fighters, he could become a legend. Where others either needed to cast magic with their off-hand or had to limit themselves to a few simple spells that didn't need somatic and verbal components, not to mention material ingredients, Sir Isaac could use his special inherent power to use magic without limiting his swordfighting.

Apparently, he wouldn't be the first one. There were others like him, so-called magical knights, spellswords, mana knight, or whatever. There were a bunch of names for them, apparently. People who had managed to focus on their martial art so much, they could cast their spells through their weapons and fight properly without losing focus on their concentration spells. But they were a rare few, and the knowledge was hard to find. Literature on the matter was scarce, even in the places where all knowledge of magic was supposed to be stored.

So difficult, Sir Isaac had to put the idea on the back burner and continue his regular knight hero routine for a few years. He waited patiently, looking for clues and waiting for a lead to come his way. He definately didn't forget about the whole ordeal, he was merely biding his time. And pretending he wasn't actively looking for knowledge on the matter to prevent foul evildoers to take advantage of his search. Yes, he was definately still searching actively for information on spellswords when a lead happened to throw itself in his lap and remind him of hi- I mean, finally give him something to go on after years of searching.

A ledger. A vile smuggler cell's ledger on the rare magical items they stashed away, which Sir Isaac found in the secret compartment of the locked drawer of the leader's desk. After turning the leader and his fellow criminals in to the law, Sir Isaac read the list and found the clue. An item labelled "Some thing, says spellsword or whatever? Weird, considering it's not a sword and there's no spell on it." Sir Isaac had smiled at that, being so much smarter than them and knowing that a spellsword was no sword with spell. It was a man who could spell with sword.

In the next few lines there was a description of where the item was stashed, many years ago. In the Ancense ruins, somewhere in one of the outer districts. Not in the mountain, or even near the cursed tunnels of this lost city. No, it was hidden somewhere in these picked clean houses.

Sir Isaac looks at the mountain, it's shadow looming over him like a malvolent titan. In the bowels of the stone beast were tunnels and large hallways, carved out by this city's former inhabitants and filled with treasure and magical items. It attracted many adventurers to enter in search for glory and loot, first consuming them in an impenetrable darkness that extinguished torches and sunlight alike, before consuming them in the literal sense. Few knew the horrors that lurked within that mountain.

But that was not where he was headed, thankfully. His destination was up here, on the well-lit surface of the ruined city. The surface was long since searched from top to bottom, no magical artefacts left to scavenge for centuries and even the somewhat valuable items such as copper had since been stripped from the place. One could call this place the city without doorknobs, because they had since been looted from every door. With the light, there was much less danger up here. A lot more feasable scavenging for non-heroic people. This was still no place to live in, for the monsters came out at night, but the surface was pretty stable.

The closer to the city centre, the more loot there was still left. The further out, the less danger and the less change of being trapped in the cursed city when night falls. The fewer monsters would assault you if you were to remain here. And the city block that Sir Isaac was in now, it lied on the very outreaches of the city. Cheap houses, built in a district whose walls weren't even finished yet when he city fell. 

This place was picked clean more than any other. This was the place that looters would come through first, and plenty were eager to get to scavenging once they saw buildings. And they took everything. If it was nailed down or too heavy to be carried, in this block it would still be gone already. Every inch was searched, every nook and cranny emptied for whatever valuable item or worthless junk it may hide. This neighbourhood was completely without valuables.

And that was why this place made the perfect hiding spot. Probably. No one searched this place any more, so a well-hidden stash would remain safe and unfound for decades. Hide something around here, and you can come pick it up again once you need it. The region and its landmarks weren't changing like nature did, nor were there people wandering about to find the stash like in the city. It was only because Sir Isaac knew that there was something here, and had a general idea based on the notes where to look, that he stood a chance of uncovering it himself.

Sir Isaac gets up again and starts searching the premise for the landmarks that would lead him to the spellsword item. This 'Daeluin *illegible*' that the ledger called it.

Hiro Kouen.  His father, Sabishii Kouen, was a famous warrior, a former God in the world of DaeLuin.  He wanted to take after his father's reputation, to become a great warrior like him, so he trained with him, and learned how to channel flames like he did, and became a Phoenix Knight like him.  However, he could only channel fire, and not the other elements.  His father's sword, Temenos, could be used like a spellblade's weapon, it could absorb and channel elemental magics and use them.  If he used the blade to channel fire, the sword would become a fire sword, or if he used ice, it'd become a freezing sword, and so on.  Hiro had the hilt of his father's sword, but he was told there were artifacts that were made out of a special metal that could be used to repair, or rather recreate the sword, or even improve on it.  The relic was called the "Elemental Heart of DaeLuin."  It was supposed to be used by elemental swordsmiths to forge swords of unparalleled quality and special properties.

Hiro found out through his father's journal that there could possibly be one of these said artifacts of power in the Ancense Ruins.  It would be very well hidden.  His father did research, but hadn't been able to go on the adventure to repair his sword.  He died to Reaper of Souls, Dalanesca first.  Hiro read there could be other copies of the information that his father had obtained.  There were ledgers, rumors, and so forth.  Other people could be after the relic.  As Hiro wandered through the ruins of this city, picked clean long ago by treasure hunters, he heard movement, rummaging around.  Hiro moved slowly, coming closer to the source of the sound.

It was a man with his back turned, rummaging around one of the buildings, looking for something.

Hiro stepped out into the open and cleared his throat.  The man appeared to be older than Hiro, a gentleman with a mustache.

"Good morrow, good sir, what brings you here in these ancient ruins?"  Hiro asked the man.  Hiro was a tall, muscular young man, appearing around 18 years old.  He wore a long crimson cloak over red and gold ornate armor, with a crest of a phoenix over the chest plate.  He had a long blade sheathed to his side, it appeared to be long enough to be held in two hands or one.  He had a kind face and spoke with both confidence and politeness.  He had deep blue eyes, and spiky black hair with red highlights.  "Are you a treasure hunter?  I don't think there's much treasure left in this area.  It looks picked clean," he probed with his questions, trying to gauge what this man's intents and purposes were.  Hiro had his arms crossed, but his sword was visible, to show he could fight if the man picked a fight with him.

"Under the table and under the floorboards, fourth house of the street you’re in." Sir Isaac mutters, following the last clue of the ledger regarding the hidden stash. It wasn’t easy, both for Sir Isaac and the one who once wrote the clues. They had to find landmarks that would stand out amongst poor houses, and slums had few such landmarks. Even fewer of those landmarks wouldn’t be pulled apart for parts or wither with time. As a result, the first landmark was half a district away.

It had taken him nigh an hour to trace the following clues to this point, not at all helped by the descriptions being vague at times. Despite that, he eventually prevailed. Finding the fourth house of the street, the building since half collapsed and the living room exposed to the world, Sir Isaac stepped over what remained of the wall. The table was half-collapsed as well, two of its feet broken off. The weathered and fungi-ridden slab of wood was worthless, save being a minimal shield against the elements for the floorboards underneath.

Pushing the table aside, Sir Isaac studies the floor. If there was a hidden compartment here once, the mechanism and seams had since rotten away. Sir Isaac kicks the floor with his armoured boot, the soft mouldy wood giving away easily. Pulling away pieces of green-freckled wood with the same ease as one would pull off a piece of cheese, Sir Isaac widens the hole to expose the alleged stash.

Lo and behold, his efforts were not in vain. Sir Isaac takes out a small wooden box, clearly a lot younger than the buildings around and waxed to withstand the touch of time better. It was sealed with wax, though the red seal had since crumbled and weathered. It no longer held the box shut, nor was the emblem recognisable anymore. It only served its last purpose, showing that no one had opened this box prior. And now, even that task came to an end.

Sir Isaac takes the lid off, the wax seal falling off in big crumbs and the smell of old but well-preserved paper briefly filling the air. Inside, there was…

Suddenly, someone clears their throat behind him. Sir Isaac startles, the box fumbling in his hands and almost falling to the ground. Sir Isaac turns around, quickly tucking the box in his belt and placing his hand on his sword. Smiling friendly and holding his other hand out invitingly, Sir Isaac looks at the sudden newcomer.

“Good morrow, good sir, what brings you here in these ancient ruins?” The young man clad in gold-trimmed crimson asks. He wore a crest on his chest, one of a house that Sir Isaac didn’t recognise immediately. From a very distant land, perhaps, or a non-existent house. Or perhaps not even a family crest at all. The armour looked very well made and impressive, in the hands of such a youngster it could easily be found in a dungeon and taken as treasure. Worn without this adventurer knowing or caring for the history behind the crest. Or perhaps he would know, or it could be his family crest after all.

“Are you a treasure hunter?” The young man asks. “I don’t think there’s much treasure left in this area. It looks picked clean.” He crossed his arms, showing no intent of pulling his sword out at the moment. Yet, he seemed to warn, perhaps even challenge, anyone who might attack him.

Sir Isaac takes his hand off his sword hilt, instead letting it hang to the side. The lad had made his presence known and didn’t seem intend on picking a fight, so it wouldn’t be honourable for Sir Isaac to treat him with more hostility. Flashy and young as the boy might be, he didn’t have the aura of a villain over him. Not even an inkling of it. Just a bit of harmless edge, in the form of his highlights. Those silly adventurers of today with their silly apparel choices. Not at all like the classic and serious appearance of his generation, Sir Isaac thought as he twirled his moustache around his finger.

Not to mention, he hadn’t tried to sneak up on Sir Isaac. It wasn’t likely that he could’ve, given his heavy armour and bright colours, but still. Any thief would opt for that option first when presented with a foe whose back was turned to them.

“Greetings, good sir! The name is Sir Knight Isaac Bartholomew Casnothal the Second.” Sir Isaac introduces himself while making a curt bow with one hand to his heart and the other on his back. “And no, I’m no mere treasure hunter or scavenger of any sort. No offense to those of the profession, but looting is not a destiny nor career that I aspire to.”

“I’m merely here to pick something up that an acquaintance of mine left here, many years ago.” Sir Isaac says. He was a honourable man, he wouldn’t lower himself to lying and deceiving people. But, telling the absolute truth phrased in a way that wouldn’t put ownership of the box in question, that was fine. Worst case scenario, it saves this strapping young lad from having his plated arse kicked by Sir Isaac’s more mundane but seasoned fighting skills, would the young man get any ideas of fighting Sir Isaac over the loot. It didn’t seem that way, but haunted abandoned cities and treasure could push men to do things they would otherwise never consider.

“Nothing valuable for you to concern yourself with, certainly not something as awe-inspiring as the relics and artefacts stored deep within the tunnels of these ruins.” Sir Isaac says, nodding to the mountain that overshadowed them. “I reckon that’s why you’re here? Your outfit certainly suggests you to be an accomplished adventurer, young as you may be. The tunnel entrances are further into the city, closer to the mountain heart.”

“I cannot show them to you nor guide you there I’m afraid, as I myself haven’t visited the place to see what kind of monsters lurk there. Not my area of expertise, you see. I’m more the sort of hero who hunts active monsters, the kind that terrorises villages and considers man to be its prey. While treasure troves and ancient dungeons may certainly have their flair, monsters such as the ones within the Ancense don’t trouble the people. No need to strike them down mercilessly, lest we become the monsters.” Sir Isaac says, only to then realise how one could take that as an insult. “Not that I’m criticizing your approach. Today’s lurking monster may be tomorrow’s beast of terror.”

“Well, it was quite nice to make your acquaintance, but I fear I must depart now. Fare thee well, and I shall wish for your fortitude and survival in your challenges to come.” Sir Isaac says, turning away.

Sir Isaac pats the box tuckered into his belt, contemplating the contents that he saw for only a brief glimpse before this man approached him. He hadn’t known what to expect, but this was certainly not it. Sir Isaac had no idea what the journal would say, nor what lock the key would open. And the key, that strangely shimmering silver key that the box contained, apparently it was but the next step to a journey. A search for power that would take longer than Sir Isaac anticipated.

Hiro thought back to the journal and hints he had found.  "Under the table under the floorboards, fourth house of the street you're in."  There was more, but the notes were incomplete, but this had to be that place.  It mentions a key to a lock, for a certain door deeper in the ruins.  This man, who introduced himself so readily, was at this house by no mistake.  Something an acquaintance had left for him many years ago.  Sir Knight Isaac Bartholomew Casnothal II was his name, and he seemed in a rush to get out of there, not only that, but overly eager to not arouse suspicion about whatever object he found.  He seemed to be carrying an object of some magical import.  Hiro could sense a faint magical power from the box he was trying to hide.  If this man was truly a knight, it was time to play by the rules of chivalry that his father played by.

"My name is Sir Hiro Kouen, Phoenix Knight, this is the crest on my chest, is the crest of the Phoenix Knight, the crest of my father, Sir Sabishii Kouen of the realm of DaeLuin.  He was a man of utmost fame and power in the world we came from.  He had crossed into the realm of Deities in his time.  He taught me many things, for he was a true Knight, a chivalrous man, a true Paragon.  I hope to be even a fraction of the man he was.  My father, before he died in battle, he left behind a collection of belongings, including a journal, and a number of blueprints for magical artifacts.  He wished me to reforge the remains of the Divine Sword he left behind for me, and that requires the acquisition of a certain relic.  The notes I had pointed to a key somewhere in these ruins.  A key I believe is in your position.  Do you know where the lock that the key opens is, good SIr Knight?"  Hiro spoke honestly, hoping this man, this knight, would be swayed by his words, if he was truly a knight of good standing.

"So, Sir Isaac, please don't lie to me about this.  No deception.  My father wanted me to follow in his footsteps.  He wanted me to create a new sword using the magic of a certain relic relating to my old world.  A sword that a magical knight could make use of.  And you're possibly holding the only key to that treasure I wish to obtain."  Hiro stood there as the man was trying to rush away, not attempting to chase after him yet.  But if the man wished to run away, well, he had certain ways of closing the gap between them.

Sir Isaac was about to walk away when the young man introduced himself, expositing his family name and his father's legacy in a manner that befitted a noble knight. And what he said was unfortunately too detailed and with too many key elements of knowledge to be deception. Sir Isaac stops walking, turns back to the young knight and contemplates the situation.

Someone could’ve spotted Sir Isaac and followed him to this place, waiting for him to unearth whatever treasure he was looking for. Then they could’ve approached him, trying to con the item out of his possession. But this lad, he said all kinds of things that prevented both deception and quick wit. Name dropping DaeLuin (which Sir Isaac had apparently been mispronouncing the whole time), speaking of magical knights, knowing what item was inside the box. He said too many things that only someone involved in the matter could know about.

Sir Isaac gives the knight another look-over. The weathered wax seal on the box, it was too outdated to be recognisable but it did look like a bird of sorts. It could’ve been the crest on the man’s chest. Sir Isaac grabs the small box and opens it again, taking out the journal. He had only gotten a single shadowed glance of it before, obscured by the key on top. This time he took out the journal and held it in the light. There was a gold-leaf painted image of a phoenix on the cover, the same crest that was proudly showcased on the lad’s chest.

There was no such detail on the key. The handle was one of the crests or symbols that showed up around the Ancense ruins more often, probably a magical key to a since looted treasure trove repurposed for this DaeLuin relic. Which made sense, for there was no reason for this forgotten civilisation and the ancient tunnels to be tied to someone young enough to be this lad’s father.

Sir Isaac sighs, puts the journal back into the box and throws the box at the red-clad knight. “Very well, Sir Hiro of house Kouen. Lest you are a deceiver of legendary proportions, this is indeed your property to claim.”

“While I wish I would’ve been able to use this opportunity to learn the ways of the spellsword myself, it is not my place to deny someone else’s legacy for my own sake.” Sir Isaac says, playing with his moustache. “As much as I would’ve liked to harness my own magical prowess in battle, I suppose that I will have to find other means to that end.”

“I can however not aid you any further with your questions, Sir Hiro. Have faith that I am no deceiver in any manner of the word, I would never stoop that low for anything but to protect the innocent or to avoid bloodshed. So take my word for it that I do not know where the lock to this key is. I may presume that the journal will reveal the answer to that mystery.”

“I wish you good luck on your quest to reforge this legendary divine sword you speak of. But beware, for the Ancense ruins are no ordinary dungeon. It is a place of utmost darkness where fire won’t burn bright and sunlight won’t shine. Lest you have some source of magical light that can pierce through any corrupted darkness, I pray that your other senses are sharp enough to compete with the blind beings that lurk within.”

Hiro looked surprised for a moment as he caught the box the older gentleman tossed to him.  His faith in the goodness of mankind was rewarded.  He was a step closer to achieving his goal!  But something didn't feel right, he felt not fully accomplished, or something was missing in this situation, or maybe it was just disappointment or an emotion similar to that.  The other knight, Sir Isaac, he was seeking to learn magic himself, to become a mage knight, someone who could cast arcane magic while hindered by armor, unlike a traditional mage.  This man was trying to better himself, and he seemed like a trustworthy fellow.

"Thank you, Sir Isaac.  You are truly a gentleman and a knight . . ."  Hiro thought about it some more.  He didn't know this man, but from what he saw, he liked the cut of his jib, as it were.  "Hey, Sir Isaac, before you leave, want to come aid me in my journey?  I am an accomplished adventurer, but you look older than me, you must have seen countless battles too, possibly more than I've seen.  I could use another adventurer to join me in my quest, I know not lies in the chamber other than the relic, maybe there's other treasure to be found?  If anything, I can promise glory and good company for this quest.  We can watch each other's backs.  Besides, maybe we could be comrades?  You wish to be able to cast magic, you say fire can't pierce the darkness in the deeper parts of the ruins, but . . ."  Hiro snapped his armored fingers, and a bright flame came to life from his fingertips, turning into a floating ball of fiery light.  ".  . . I can do this.  One of my goals is to learn elements other than fire.  But I'm pretty good at fire as it is now, since I've trained in it since I was a wee lad.  And you look pretty handy with a sword.  Together, we can bust some monster heads and have a couple tales to tell at the tavern.  What do you say?"  Hiro extinguished the fire with a thought and reached out his hand toward Sir Isaac, hoping he'd agree to go along with him, and have a grand ol' adventure.  It would be fun!  Hiro grinned toward the man, a friendly smile on his face.  This man seemed trustworthy, they might make a good team.

"Thank you, Sir Isaac. You are truly a gentleman and a knight . . ." Sir Hiro said, and Sir Isaac couldn't help but smile. Sometimes being righteous was its own reward, but acknowledgement was certainly a nice bonus every now and again.

Sir Hiro doesn't turn away to go search the relic however, instead sizing up Sir Isaac and continuing the conversation. Asking whether Sir Isaac would like to join him, and giving some good arguments for joining him. Treasure, cooperation, and then there was that sweet sweet word 'glory'. Sir Hiro summons a ball of fire in his hand, showing his skill in casting magic and a viable source of light in the Ancense ruins. Apparently fire was his major, which made sense for someone of a house whose emblem was a phoenix.

"I see. That's a mighty compelling offer, Sir Hiro. I agree, any outing into the tunnels of this mountain will make a fine tale to go with a couple of ales, assuming one makes it out there alive. And your fire does seem to be quite expertly handled. I don't know how you manage to snap your armoured fingers, I can't even manage that with just leather." Sir Isaac tries to snap his fingers to make a point, with no sound coming from the leather rubbing together and the leeway that the fabric has preventing a snap. "Perhaps a skill that requires years of training, for it completely eludes me. Anyhow, your magic is quite impressive. I appear to be talented in holy magic myself, though I have yet to learn how to unlock its full potential."

"Very well, Sir Hiro of house Kouen, I shall accompany you on your adventure." Sir Isaac says, accepting Hiro's hand and shaking it. "At the very least because those tunnels are too dangerous for any one man, especially if you'll need one hand free for that fireball, but also for glory of my own."

"Not to brag, but I have a little magical source of light myself, to illuminate the way with." Sir Isaac pulls his moustache and with a click it lights up. [OOC: Imagine the sound and click of one of those beaded strings that the lights from less-used rooms can have.] A warm and slightly blue glow like a mage light is radiated from his moustache, with a slightly stronger glare forward casting the light like a flashlight. Sir Isaac smiles proudly, not at all aware of how rediculous it looks. "And that's not the only magical power I managed to unravel. The ones I know are unfortunately still quite weak, I have no spells yet that are truly of an adept level of spellcasting."

"So right now, my swordmastery is still my greatest feat in combat. But, fire is always useful in combat. Perhaps we can exchange some tricks, no?" Sir Isaac says as he turns to the Ancense ruins and begins walking towards their adventure.

HIro smiled at the Knight, who agreed to accompany him on his adventure.  He shook the man's hand firmly.  "Thank you, welcome aboard, Sir Isaac!  Holy magic, you say, my father was able to do holy magic, and many elemental magic feats, alas, he fell in battle some time ago.  Anyway, he would tell me that emotion was key to his magic.  He could associate emotions and thoughts into his magic to aid him in casting different types of spells.  He told me Light was 'Righteous Indignation,'  that his enemy was doing wrong, which brought about anger from the injustice, and he could focus that thought and emotion into holy light that could punish his enemies with.  Not sure if that helps you or not."

SIr Isaac said that he could summon a source of illumination, and demonstrated it by summoning a source of light into the world through a brilliant mustache.  This produced a gasp from the young Phoenix Knight, who was simply shocked shocked by such a feat.  "Oh!  Oh wow.  I, uh . . . that's unique."  It was ridiculous, and he stifled a laugh.  "Uh, can you do that to any hair on your body?  Like the hair on your head?  Do you choose your mustache?  Or can you just summon the light from only your mustache?"  Hiro thought about it, it's not like summoning light from one's hand, but it would make a handy hands-free source of light, it would illuminate the path in front of him, near his eyes, it would definitely keep his hands free to hold a weapon, but it was just . . . so silly!

Composing himself, Hiro agreed.  "Yes!  We can help each other.  I'm good with swordplay, though I'm sure you know things I may not, and my magic is something you could use help with.  I usually use a single sword, but I've trained in dual wielding, sword and shield, and dabbled in other weapons, like polearms, but swords are my favorite in terms of combat weapons." Hiro and Sir Isaac started walking deeper in the ruins. "Hmm, the notes mention that the door the key opens is quite deep into the ruins, in an underground tomb of some sort, I imagine there will be undead there because of that." Hiro said, reading from his notes.

Sir Isaac ponders on the information that Sir Hiro gave him. It was something he already knew, yet it taught him much. It confirmed much. Sir Isaac had already assumed that his strong and unyielding sense of pride and honour was the source of his powers. And it was true that his magic seemed to flare up and grow stronger when he fought particularly malvolent foes or protected the innocent. With this knowledge, perhaps he could harness his emotions and righteousness to a greater degree.

"I see, thank you for this piece of information, Sir Hiro. I will certainly put it to good use. And my condolences, your father sounded like a fine man." Sir Isaac says.

Taking the conversation away from that gloomy subject he just brought up, Sir Isaac quickly shows off his mage light trick. Sir Hiro looked much impressed, both in vocal response and expression. Sir Isaac smiles proudly, holding his head high. "No, I cannot do this with any hair on my body. My magic seems to be solely limited to my glorious moustache, with the exception of a few tricks that I can do with my sword. And honestly, I don't mind the limitation. They don't call me the Moustache Knight for nothing, after all."

Sir Isaac proudly curls the end of his moustache around his finger, knowing that his title would be sure to impress. It always did, there was always a reaction from the people when they heard it. Laughter, widened eyes and uncontrolable smiling, surprise. All kinds of happy feelings were stirred within the people when they heard his glorious title, for it brought hope to otherwise dark times.

"Yes, that's right. You're talking to the one and only Moustache Knight." Sir Isaac says. "And you are no unknown entity yourself, I assume. I bet that years from now, bards will still sing the songs of the time that the Moustache Knight and the Phoenix Knight joined forces. Glorious, it shall be! Glorious!"

With his head still held up high and his thoughts in the clouds, Sir Isaac keeps walking. The topic shifted to their non-magical swordfighting. Sir Isaac proudly expositions his own skill, which was quite similar to Sir Hiro's. He too knew how to wield his longsword both with one and both hands, and he could use the shield if the foe and their arms warranted its use. Showing off a few practice swings with his sword, Sir Isaac proudly displays his style. It was quite flamboyant, for a lack of a better word, with more grandeur and swing than necessary. Any adept swordfighter could tell that Sir Isaac placed too much swing in his weapon and left himself open too much while attacking, though Sir Isaac himself explained it as a show of skill. What neither Sir Isaac nor his enemies knew, was that his fighting style was not at all as amateuristic as it appeared at first. After years of training, his control of the sword and its swing was so practiced that his blade carved through the air much faster than it seemed, and he could redirect it mid-swing. The very show of amateurism was what gave Sir Isaac an advantage against any adept swordfighter who thought they could easily spot and take advantage of his weaknesses. His sloppy fighting style had somehow perfected itself into an unique method of combat that made him quite skilled against any of his fellow fighters.

But, again, Sir Isaac was not at all aware of this deceit and skill of his. He merely spoke merrily over how he fights honourably and often bested his fellow swordfighters in a test of speed and control. And boy did he speak. Sir Isaac was like a fountain of words once he began to talk about his endeavours, filling plenty of their traveling time without noticing. He only stopped talking when he suddenly noticed the cold draft of the Ancense tunnels before them, the dark abyss staring at him as much as he stared into it.

"Ah, it appears we have arrived." Sir Isaac says, nervously peering into the endless darkness. "And undead, you say? Well, I can handle those. Assuming it's the regular kind, or something I can cut into pieces with my sword at least."

"He was a great man," Hiro said, reflecting upon all his memories of his father.  "Selfless, a true hero.  He put himself at risk to save lives, he wasn't perfect, but no one was.  He did the best he could to save as many people as he could, to protect the realm."  Hiro hoped his father was watching him now, from whatever afterlife there was, that he surely made it to.  He would make him proud.  The Moustache Knight?  Hiro's eyes widened and he was silent for a good few moments, trying to think of a way to react to that.  This man was a kind gentleman, though eccentric in his behavior.  Maybe that was part of his plans in general?  A hero must be one who brings a strong presence, and make the people feel that "everything is going to be okay, there is nothing to fear now."  This man had a strong presence, though he wasn't sure if most people would take him seriously.  But you wouldn't mistake him for a villain, so he had that in his favor.  "Heh, that's a very unique title, I've never heard of such a Knight, but I'm sure the bards will sing of us some day.  I don't doubt that."  Hiro said with a laugh and a smile on his face.

Hiro took note of the Moustache Knight's fighting stance, he exposed himself too much with his flashy swordplay, but he did have impressive control over his swings, with equally impressive force behind the swings.  He went on about defeating many opponents honorably, seeing he talked even more than his father did (Sabishii was notorious for rambling).  However, the discussion was tabled when he could feel a cold breeze coming out of the tunnel they were about to enter.

"I sense the stench of undeath indeed.  But it seems there's something more to it than just undead.  I sense . . . a myriad of elemental energies in this area too.  Has the corruption of undeath reached the elements?  The relic must be here, and it must be strong, to rouse such energies I sense in the area."  A blast of cold, chilly energy erupted from the darkness of the tunnel ahead of them.  Hiro muttered a curse as snow and ice came flying from the darkness, starting to freeze the ground beneath them.  Shielding his face from the cold with one arm, Hiro reached to his blade on his side.  Heavy stomping could be heard, and felt, shaking the earth and stone beneath them.

It was huge.  It had the appearance of frozen earth and ice amalgamated together, covering bits of bone and sinew.  It towered above the two heroes, perhaps 8 or 9 feet tall.  Bones shaped like claws were sticking out of its feet and hands.  Its face was a nightmarish skeleton's face, radiating cold flames of undeath and darkness.

"An Earthen Ice Bone . . . Golem Skeleton . . . thing.  Yeah, I don't know what the hell this thing is.  But it's controlling ice . . . and earth," Hiro seemed at a loss of how to completely describe this abomination that they were facing.  It stomped the earth with an enormous leg, sending rocks and ice flying up from the ground in a wave of destruction.  Hiro leaped to the side dodging the shower of ice and rock, and drew his blade.  It was the Phoenix Blade of Wildfire.  A flash of flame erupted from the sheath, as he drew a blade made with blackish metal and incredible heat and fire.  He swung his blade downward, unleashing a wave of flames in the direction of the Ice-earth Abomination.  The Abomination swung one of his claws, unleashing a torrent of muddy earth and ice colliding with the flames, erupting an explosion of rock and steam, blanketing the area in debris.

"He canceled out my flames!  We're probably going to need your holy light to work together with my flames to stop this thing," Hiro said, turning to the Moustache Knight.  Hopefully they'll be able to work together to defeat this monstrosity.