storymasterb
Knight of RPGs
Yamato Takeshi (Cyberdramon)
Camelot Outskirts
Yamato breathed in the fresh morning air as he strode the cobblestone road. To his sides stretched fields that became forests in the distance, behind him was the road, and ahead of him was Camelot.
The city rose like an island rises from the sea, a sprawl of glorious white stone. The city walls were tall and strong, guards visible atop their battlements as Yamato advanced. The gates were open, welcoming a tide of Digimon of all sorts, for this was a day of celebration and glory. The day Olympus had fallen years before.
Beyond the wall, Yamato picked out spires and towers of that white stone, a cathedral here, a church or shrine there, watchtowers keeping a wary vigil over the metropolis. And at the heart of it, the castle itself. Towering above all else, the keep rose like a mountain, casting the shadow of Artorigus over his realm.
"So this is Camelot... amazing..." Tachibana said from his position at the Cyberdramon's side.
Yamato nodded. "We've heard so much of it, but nothing ever compares to seeing it in person." He smiled, as much as he could with a dragon's jaws. "Let's go. If we're fast, we can find a good spot for the celebrations."
"If we're fast?" Tachibana said with an incredulous downward gesture at his four legs. "We're not all cybernetically enhanced ninjas now, are we?"
The Cyberdramon chuckled. "I am not a ninja. Though I could carry you, if you'd prefer?"
Tachibana weighed this. "Very well," he finally conceded. "But no one we know must ever know." Yamato laughed.
"As you wish," he said, with a slight bow. "Don't worry. We're going to see all the sights today. What could possibly stop us?"
-
Shamsiel (Meicrackmon)
Camelot City
They walked in procession, heads bowed, hands clasped in prayer. The monks and nuns went about their business solemnly, as in all things their thoughts turned toward Yggdrasil. Bringing up the rear of the procession was Shamsiel, the Meicrackmon's head bowed lowest, hands clasped tightest. As she walked she glanced where she could, taking in the gleaming white stone of the city with wide eyes. No matter how many times she came to Camelot, it always amazed her. The crowds, the grandeur, the beauty, and above all, the knights. Resplendent ideals of chivalry and heroism, just as they had been the day Mars threatened the abbey.
For now, though, the procession solemnly walked through the streets, joined by their faith. At their head was Sarathiel, the MagnaAngemon resplendent, his wings radiant. As he suddenly came to a halt, they all followed suit. Slowly he turned.
“Shamsiel,” he said in his soft voice, a voice that was unyielding as steel regardless.
“Yes, Sarathiel?” she answered meekly.
“We seem to have forgotten the wine, child,” the angel said. “Would you kindly go to get it while we head on?” Her heart sunk. They were going to watch the parade, for Sarathiel deemed it proper and right that they honor the abbey's defenders so. She wanted to see the glorious king again, not shrouded as he had been that chaotic night, but perfect and clear in sight. But at the same time, she did not want to disrespect the abbot with a refusal.
“Yes, Sarathiel,” she said, bowing her head lower. Sarathiel retrieved some coins from his robe and pressed them into her hand.
“Do not tarry, child,” he said, a chill edge in his tone. “It would not do to lose yourself in these streets.” She knew the way to the wine store. She had walked these streets enough times with his guidance to know the route. And if she was quick, surely she could get it and then return in time to see Artorigus and his knights.
She turned as they walked on, racing through the streets. The coins warmed in her grip as she ran, ducking through crowds to try and reach the shop in time.
-
Yamato Takeshi (Cyberdramon)
Camelot Rooftops
“I thought you weren't a ninja!” Tachibana wailed.
Yamato laughed as he leapt again, landing on a tiled roof with surprising grace. His cybernetics hummed as he ran and jumped, his wings beating to propel them across another gap. Tiles clattered as he crashed down. He carried Tachibana in his arms, clutching the Datamon tight.
“I am not,” he repeated. “But one doesn't have to be a ninja to do this.” He paused, gazing out over a sea of tiles, towers and spires. They had come halfway to the castle already. Overhead passed flying Digimon of all sorts, though the space immediately around the keep was kept clear by patrolling knights. Beloved as Artorigus was, it was a common rumor that the remnants of the Olympian regime still seethed and plotted revenge, and clearly no chances would be taken. The guard seemed out in force to prevent any plots on this day.
As he rested and watched, a sound came to his honed ears. A snarling in the side streets below. Though the main roads bustled, the alleyways were near deserted, abandoned by those seeking a glimpse of the great king. The guards were scarce there too, drawn more by the throngs that flooded the major streets to the castle.
“What is it?” Tachibana asked, picking up on his companion's sudden focus.
“Snarling,” the Cyberdramon said. “And I think... panting?” He moved his head to the side, trying to home in on the noise. As soon as he caught it, he began to move.
“It could be nothing,” the Datamon said. “And surely the guards can handle it.”
“I would rather be sure,” Yamato answered. Although he was thinking the same, the hero in him rebelled immediately. The guards were preoccupied with security on the main roads and closer to the castle. They might not pick up on trouble in a quieter part of the city until it was too late. He leapt over a street, gliding to the next rooftop and continuing at speed across it.
“And what is it you plan to do?” Tachibana sighed.
“What I always do,” he chuckled. “My grandmother once said this.” As he ran, he made to lift one hand to the sky, only to stop as Tachibana threatened to slip from his arms. “The man who abandons those in need, will find his soul needing.”
He landed on the next rooftop and through the corner of his eye, he caught motion in the street below. One dark figure stumbled across rough cobblestones, scraping against a wall as they run, and several blurs of darkness followed, snarling as they raced for their quarry. It was a hunt, he realised. Perhaps the quarry was a criminal? But no. Whatever those shadowy blurs were, they were not guards. They did not seem to be bearing the crest of Logres as the guards and knights did.
“Tachibana,” he said, a serious edge sharpening his tone. “Stay here.” He put the Datamon down. “This might get dangerous.”
“Right,” his companion said. “Take care too, Yamato.”
“Don't worry,” the Cyberdramon smiled. “I'm the hero, after all.” And with that, he flung himself to the next roof, racing after the hunters and their quarry.
-
Shamsiel (Meicrackmon)
Camelot Alleys
Shamsiel rushed through the alleyways, a pail of wine gripped tightly to her chest. It had taken longer than she thought to reach the shop and buy it, but a sympathetic guard had pointed her to a shortcut to get her back faster. She could still reach the parade in time. Surely.
As she raced, arms straining with the weight of the pail, a sound reached her keen ears. The sound of animalistic snarling. Warily she crept to the next corner, still hurrying, and as she rounded it something slammed into her and sent her crashing to the ground. She heard the clattering of armor on stone as she fell, the pail falling from her arms and splintering on the cobbles. Wine rushed over the ground like a pool of blood, soaking her fur.
The Meicrackmon looked up as dark shapes came to a halt before her. A pack of Dobermon, all snarling and baring their fangs, six in total. Three Cerberumon with hellfire licking at their jaws. And a Plutomon with hungry eyes, its red mantle tattered, its multiple jaws all grinding their fangs together.
“How unfortunate,” the Plutomon growled, the words like blades torn from his throat. “I hoped to avoid witnesses.” He raised a hand, his claws gleaming.
Shamsiel glanced to her side as the Dobermon and Cerberumon began moving to circle. The Digimon who had run into her. At first they seemed familiar, but the dark Digizoid of their armor was trimmed in a dark blue, a mantle of the same rich hue wrapped across their body. They bore a great round shield and wielded a conical dark lance in the other hand. A Gallantmon, but not. And something about them seemed... off.
“I'll make this quick, girl,” the Plutomon said with a cold chuckle. “Curse your ill fate.” He took a step forward.
A shadow fell across Shamsiel, blocking out the sun for a moment before something fell to the ground in front of her. Red wings crossed her vision, leathery and dragonic. Dark rubber coated the figure, adorned in steely Digizoid. And a red scarf billowed as the Digimon rose up.
The Plutomon had taken a step back, snarling. “You! Who are you?!”
“Just a hero passing through,” the Cyberdramon said with a voice that was like a confident smile. “Remember that.”
The Plutomon growled. “Urgh! It doesn't matter! No witnesses!” He pointed a claw at the three. “Kill them!”
“Don't worry,” the Cyberdramon said to Shamsiel, glancing back. “I'll protect you.” A Dobermon lunged and the cyborg dragon caught its jaws, lifting the canine and tossing it at the next. Shamsiel caught a whirring sound as he moved.
The Meicrackmon rose up, droplets of wine falling from her fur. She didn't know how to fight, but even so she let instinct take control, baring her claws. “I can help you.” The two stood between the pack of canine Digimon and the fallen Gallantmon.
Camelot Outskirts
Yamato breathed in the fresh morning air as he strode the cobblestone road. To his sides stretched fields that became forests in the distance, behind him was the road, and ahead of him was Camelot.
The city rose like an island rises from the sea, a sprawl of glorious white stone. The city walls were tall and strong, guards visible atop their battlements as Yamato advanced. The gates were open, welcoming a tide of Digimon of all sorts, for this was a day of celebration and glory. The day Olympus had fallen years before.
Beyond the wall, Yamato picked out spires and towers of that white stone, a cathedral here, a church or shrine there, watchtowers keeping a wary vigil over the metropolis. And at the heart of it, the castle itself. Towering above all else, the keep rose like a mountain, casting the shadow of Artorigus over his realm.
"So this is Camelot... amazing..." Tachibana said from his position at the Cyberdramon's side.
Yamato nodded. "We've heard so much of it, but nothing ever compares to seeing it in person." He smiled, as much as he could with a dragon's jaws. "Let's go. If we're fast, we can find a good spot for the celebrations."
"If we're fast?" Tachibana said with an incredulous downward gesture at his four legs. "We're not all cybernetically enhanced ninjas now, are we?"
The Cyberdramon chuckled. "I am not a ninja. Though I could carry you, if you'd prefer?"
Tachibana weighed this. "Very well," he finally conceded. "But no one we know must ever know." Yamato laughed.
"As you wish," he said, with a slight bow. "Don't worry. We're going to see all the sights today. What could possibly stop us?"
-
Shamsiel (Meicrackmon)
Camelot City
They walked in procession, heads bowed, hands clasped in prayer. The monks and nuns went about their business solemnly, as in all things their thoughts turned toward Yggdrasil. Bringing up the rear of the procession was Shamsiel, the Meicrackmon's head bowed lowest, hands clasped tightest. As she walked she glanced where she could, taking in the gleaming white stone of the city with wide eyes. No matter how many times she came to Camelot, it always amazed her. The crowds, the grandeur, the beauty, and above all, the knights. Resplendent ideals of chivalry and heroism, just as they had been the day Mars threatened the abbey.
For now, though, the procession solemnly walked through the streets, joined by their faith. At their head was Sarathiel, the MagnaAngemon resplendent, his wings radiant. As he suddenly came to a halt, they all followed suit. Slowly he turned.
“Shamsiel,” he said in his soft voice, a voice that was unyielding as steel regardless.
“Yes, Sarathiel?” she answered meekly.
“We seem to have forgotten the wine, child,” the angel said. “Would you kindly go to get it while we head on?” Her heart sunk. They were going to watch the parade, for Sarathiel deemed it proper and right that they honor the abbey's defenders so. She wanted to see the glorious king again, not shrouded as he had been that chaotic night, but perfect and clear in sight. But at the same time, she did not want to disrespect the abbot with a refusal.
“Yes, Sarathiel,” she said, bowing her head lower. Sarathiel retrieved some coins from his robe and pressed them into her hand.
“Do not tarry, child,” he said, a chill edge in his tone. “It would not do to lose yourself in these streets.” She knew the way to the wine store. She had walked these streets enough times with his guidance to know the route. And if she was quick, surely she could get it and then return in time to see Artorigus and his knights.
She turned as they walked on, racing through the streets. The coins warmed in her grip as she ran, ducking through crowds to try and reach the shop in time.
-
Yamato Takeshi (Cyberdramon)
Camelot Rooftops
“I thought you weren't a ninja!” Tachibana wailed.
Yamato laughed as he leapt again, landing on a tiled roof with surprising grace. His cybernetics hummed as he ran and jumped, his wings beating to propel them across another gap. Tiles clattered as he crashed down. He carried Tachibana in his arms, clutching the Datamon tight.
“I am not,” he repeated. “But one doesn't have to be a ninja to do this.” He paused, gazing out over a sea of tiles, towers and spires. They had come halfway to the castle already. Overhead passed flying Digimon of all sorts, though the space immediately around the keep was kept clear by patrolling knights. Beloved as Artorigus was, it was a common rumor that the remnants of the Olympian regime still seethed and plotted revenge, and clearly no chances would be taken. The guard seemed out in force to prevent any plots on this day.
As he rested and watched, a sound came to his honed ears. A snarling in the side streets below. Though the main roads bustled, the alleyways were near deserted, abandoned by those seeking a glimpse of the great king. The guards were scarce there too, drawn more by the throngs that flooded the major streets to the castle.
“What is it?” Tachibana asked, picking up on his companion's sudden focus.
“Snarling,” the Cyberdramon said. “And I think... panting?” He moved his head to the side, trying to home in on the noise. As soon as he caught it, he began to move.
“It could be nothing,” the Datamon said. “And surely the guards can handle it.”
“I would rather be sure,” Yamato answered. Although he was thinking the same, the hero in him rebelled immediately. The guards were preoccupied with security on the main roads and closer to the castle. They might not pick up on trouble in a quieter part of the city until it was too late. He leapt over a street, gliding to the next rooftop and continuing at speed across it.
“And what is it you plan to do?” Tachibana sighed.
“What I always do,” he chuckled. “My grandmother once said this.” As he ran, he made to lift one hand to the sky, only to stop as Tachibana threatened to slip from his arms. “The man who abandons those in need, will find his soul needing.”
He landed on the next rooftop and through the corner of his eye, he caught motion in the street below. One dark figure stumbled across rough cobblestones, scraping against a wall as they run, and several blurs of darkness followed, snarling as they raced for their quarry. It was a hunt, he realised. Perhaps the quarry was a criminal? But no. Whatever those shadowy blurs were, they were not guards. They did not seem to be bearing the crest of Logres as the guards and knights did.
“Tachibana,” he said, a serious edge sharpening his tone. “Stay here.” He put the Datamon down. “This might get dangerous.”
“Right,” his companion said. “Take care too, Yamato.”
“Don't worry,” the Cyberdramon smiled. “I'm the hero, after all.” And with that, he flung himself to the next roof, racing after the hunters and their quarry.
-
Shamsiel (Meicrackmon)
Camelot Alleys
Shamsiel rushed through the alleyways, a pail of wine gripped tightly to her chest. It had taken longer than she thought to reach the shop and buy it, but a sympathetic guard had pointed her to a shortcut to get her back faster. She could still reach the parade in time. Surely.
As she raced, arms straining with the weight of the pail, a sound reached her keen ears. The sound of animalistic snarling. Warily she crept to the next corner, still hurrying, and as she rounded it something slammed into her and sent her crashing to the ground. She heard the clattering of armor on stone as she fell, the pail falling from her arms and splintering on the cobbles. Wine rushed over the ground like a pool of blood, soaking her fur.
The Meicrackmon looked up as dark shapes came to a halt before her. A pack of Dobermon, all snarling and baring their fangs, six in total. Three Cerberumon with hellfire licking at their jaws. And a Plutomon with hungry eyes, its red mantle tattered, its multiple jaws all grinding their fangs together.
“How unfortunate,” the Plutomon growled, the words like blades torn from his throat. “I hoped to avoid witnesses.” He raised a hand, his claws gleaming.
Shamsiel glanced to her side as the Dobermon and Cerberumon began moving to circle. The Digimon who had run into her. At first they seemed familiar, but the dark Digizoid of their armor was trimmed in a dark blue, a mantle of the same rich hue wrapped across their body. They bore a great round shield and wielded a conical dark lance in the other hand. A Gallantmon, but not. And something about them seemed... off.
“I'll make this quick, girl,” the Plutomon said with a cold chuckle. “Curse your ill fate.” He took a step forward.
A shadow fell across Shamsiel, blocking out the sun for a moment before something fell to the ground in front of her. Red wings crossed her vision, leathery and dragonic. Dark rubber coated the figure, adorned in steely Digizoid. And a red scarf billowed as the Digimon rose up.
The Plutomon had taken a step back, snarling. “You! Who are you?!”
“Just a hero passing through,” the Cyberdramon said with a voice that was like a confident smile. “Remember that.”
The Plutomon growled. “Urgh! It doesn't matter! No witnesses!” He pointed a claw at the three. “Kill them!”
“Don't worry,” the Cyberdramon said to Shamsiel, glancing back. “I'll protect you.” A Dobermon lunged and the cyborg dragon caught its jaws, lifting the canine and tossing it at the next. Shamsiel caught a whirring sound as he moved.
The Meicrackmon rose up, droplets of wine falling from her fur. She didn't know how to fight, but even so she let instinct take control, baring her claws. “I can help you.” The two stood between the pack of canine Digimon and the fallen Gallantmon.