Sentinel
02-18-16, 04:54 AM
Closed to redford.
It was a warm, sunny day and the birds were chirping merrily, filling the air with their song. Sentinel smiled as it walked along, lost in a happy daze. It liked sunny days like these, and it liked to hear the birds warbling out their songs. In fact, there wasn’t much about the outdoors that it didn’t enjoy in some way. Without all of the things that mortals normally had to worry about when being exposed to the elements, Sentinel reckoned that there was something pleasurable to be found in even the most blustery of stormy days. Of course, it didn’t hurt Sentinel’s outlook that its first eight years of existence had all been relegated to a single room within the house of Adolphus, Sentinel’s creator. After standing in the same spot for eight long years, anything with a changing view seemed like a gift from the Thaynes to the golem.
Adolphus hadn’t intended to be cruel or malicious when he animated Sentinel’s clay body and then stuck it in a room and ordered it to remain there. The wizard had simply been seeking an implacable guardian to protect the vast treasure trove of arcane knowledge that he’d managed to collect over the years. Sentinel couldn’t rightly fault him for wanting that, it supposed. Especially given that Adolphus had freed Sentinel as soon as it had shown signs of having a sense of self. Even better, the wizard had taken Sentinel to find a teacher and had given it the tools it needed to begin life in Althanas on its own. Adolphus was a good man, Sentinel knew.
But there were others in Althanas who were not so good and kind. Others who sought to take advantage of those weaker and less fortunate than themselves. Those who sought to defy the will of the Thayne. Sentinel had witnessed this early and often on its travels across Corone, an pattern of subjugation and domination which seemingly played out endlessly.
Thaynes above, I hope it’s not endless, Sentinel thought, shaking the massive blob of crudely sculpted clay which served as its head. The thought depressed the golem greatly. Perhaps it was its nature as a protector, created to serve and defend, or perhaps it was just its youthful naivety, but this cruelty stuck a wound deep within the golem’s core.
Because of this, Sentinel had traveled to the Citadel of Radasanth to test himself in combat. Martial contest were certainly no stranger to the creature, having been animated pretty much solely for that purpose, and Sentinel thought that it might give him a little better insight into how this outside Althanas world worked. After all, it was a well-known fact that some of the most violent and oppressive people in the world spent time fighting at the Citadel. Testing themselves against others of their ilk with every technique learned and every new skill mastered. And since all of it could be done under the relative safety of the watchful Ai’Brone monks, Sentinel supposed there was a certain thrill to it. One could kill or die a hundred times in the Citadel and be no worse for the wear.
So Sentinel had entered the Citadel and requested a simple arena in which to fight. And now here he was, walking down a sunlit path near a small grove of trees. A multitude of rocks the size of melons littered the ground around the golem, something to trip a careless fighter, it supposed. Or perhaps they were there to act as ammunition for a sufficiently determined combatant. Sentinel didn’t think that it really mattered one way or the other. The rocks were there for the same reason that everything in the arena was there for, to provide a realistic backdrop for Sentinel and its opponent while the two of them beat each other unconscious.
Sentinel turned its head up towards the warm light of the sun and smiled again. At least it could enjoy the day until that happened.
It was a warm, sunny day and the birds were chirping merrily, filling the air with their song. Sentinel smiled as it walked along, lost in a happy daze. It liked sunny days like these, and it liked to hear the birds warbling out their songs. In fact, there wasn’t much about the outdoors that it didn’t enjoy in some way. Without all of the things that mortals normally had to worry about when being exposed to the elements, Sentinel reckoned that there was something pleasurable to be found in even the most blustery of stormy days. Of course, it didn’t hurt Sentinel’s outlook that its first eight years of existence had all been relegated to a single room within the house of Adolphus, Sentinel’s creator. After standing in the same spot for eight long years, anything with a changing view seemed like a gift from the Thaynes to the golem.
Adolphus hadn’t intended to be cruel or malicious when he animated Sentinel’s clay body and then stuck it in a room and ordered it to remain there. The wizard had simply been seeking an implacable guardian to protect the vast treasure trove of arcane knowledge that he’d managed to collect over the years. Sentinel couldn’t rightly fault him for wanting that, it supposed. Especially given that Adolphus had freed Sentinel as soon as it had shown signs of having a sense of self. Even better, the wizard had taken Sentinel to find a teacher and had given it the tools it needed to begin life in Althanas on its own. Adolphus was a good man, Sentinel knew.
But there were others in Althanas who were not so good and kind. Others who sought to take advantage of those weaker and less fortunate than themselves. Those who sought to defy the will of the Thayne. Sentinel had witnessed this early and often on its travels across Corone, an pattern of subjugation and domination which seemingly played out endlessly.
Thaynes above, I hope it’s not endless, Sentinel thought, shaking the massive blob of crudely sculpted clay which served as its head. The thought depressed the golem greatly. Perhaps it was its nature as a protector, created to serve and defend, or perhaps it was just its youthful naivety, but this cruelty stuck a wound deep within the golem’s core.
Because of this, Sentinel had traveled to the Citadel of Radasanth to test himself in combat. Martial contest were certainly no stranger to the creature, having been animated pretty much solely for that purpose, and Sentinel thought that it might give him a little better insight into how this outside Althanas world worked. After all, it was a well-known fact that some of the most violent and oppressive people in the world spent time fighting at the Citadel. Testing themselves against others of their ilk with every technique learned and every new skill mastered. And since all of it could be done under the relative safety of the watchful Ai’Brone monks, Sentinel supposed there was a certain thrill to it. One could kill or die a hundred times in the Citadel and be no worse for the wear.
So Sentinel had entered the Citadel and requested a simple arena in which to fight. And now here he was, walking down a sunlit path near a small grove of trees. A multitude of rocks the size of melons littered the ground around the golem, something to trip a careless fighter, it supposed. Or perhaps they were there to act as ammunition for a sufficiently determined combatant. Sentinel didn’t think that it really mattered one way or the other. The rocks were there for the same reason that everything in the arena was there for, to provide a realistic backdrop for Sentinel and its opponent while the two of them beat each other unconscious.
Sentinel turned its head up towards the warm light of the sun and smiled again. At least it could enjoy the day until that happened.