Knights of Tezoth

He's not displeased about anything, really...

"This is the very battle magic we've always been missing! What luck!"

– Now that's power! – Rezara admired. – With magic like this, we'll have something to oppose the traitors, turncoats, and enemies of humanity! Deus Mariarnelia is, without a doubt, the rightful ruler of Tezoth, but she is young and inexperienced. She lacks the qualities a Deus needs in such dark times. I fear that without the help of her venerable grandfather, she will not cope with the trials to come... Now more than ever, we need a leader capable of uniting all who are loyal to Tezoth in the great battle against the forces of darkness!

Apparently, Rezara found Deus's proposal worthy of acceptance. She even seemed to forget her suspicions...

Dunno, I wouldn't say it's all that clear-cut. He seems to me so cunning that he might end up ruining Sithia completely too. And overthrowing Masha isn't necessarily required. Well, grandpa came back, so what? He'll help his granddaughter rule.

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You also thought the incredible stories from the Sithian and the leech were lies. But then the Sithian's story was confirmed, and the Revnlanders passed around a headless body. So far, your theories haven't been confirmed.

Which region is HeroesWorld most similar to, and which region's knights are HeroesWorld players most like?

My initial stance is to never believe them. The fact that they told the truth once means nothing. They could tell the truth 24/7 for all I care. What difference does it make if their ultimate goal is to wipe us out (see the servant's conviction)? And the fact that they do all sorts of things in Revnland has been known from the very start. Could Karneya have done what the servant described? Yes, I was 100% sure of that even before the head story. Did it actually happen? I don't know, and I don't trust the servant — it's simple.

Regarding grandpa, my stance is the same as regarding Hatarait. An ambiguous type, but not being a sycophant of a powerful GM character is an auto-loss, no two ways about it.

Ravnland, of course. Nothing but perverts and psychopaths.

on the day of the catastrophe


With a drawn-out mechanical screech — a groan of pain and despair unknown to nature — the last artifact of a forgotten era tore through the night's canvas like a falling star. The soul-rending crack of shattering glass scattered the remains of intricate solar mechanisms across the surroundings. The force field evaporated in the lower layers of the atmosphere, erupting in flashes of light-fireworks — a farewell celebratory salute in honor of the day of the fall. Billows of black smoke trailing behind the magical comet stood out even against the night sky, eclipsing the frightened glimmers of distant stars. The sun had slept through the funeral of its final creation, and only the lone moon continued to indifferently contemplate yet another blend of madness in yet another mad world.

Having incinerated the crumpled clouds, the titan bored its hull into the slope of a hunched mountain, crushing a dense expanse of forest beneath itself and turning a couple of remote settlements to ash. The breached hull cast off a few separate fragments; the internal organs of a thousand-year history scattered like free birds across the innocently sleeping vicinity. A library filled with boundless knowledge, kind journals, notes, and guidebooks left a crater where the knight's city had stood under its heel. Churches and temples shrouded the surrounding farms in demonic flames. The palace spire destroyed the town hall of the Albus center. With each fading heartbeat of the forgotten giant, another meeting was erased from reality, an engaging dialogue forgotten, a friendly gathering lost, an interesting competition vanished. The combined efforts of dozens of minds and hundreds of thousands of text symbols turned to nothing. With a cruel stroke of a nuclear pen, the legendary work melted away — a work that had once gifted rare emotions to every creator who had lent a hand to its making.

A fiery rain of energy fragments and an agonized (or aconitic?) cry were the final artistic refrains before the epilogue. The city collapsed, burying an entire region beneath itself in an infernal wave. Those close to the epicenter were smiled upon by fate: a volcanic whirlwind instantly disincorporated them into nothing. The fate of the rest was less rosy. Towering tsunamis scattered the few small vessels moored on distant islands. Earthquakes buried residential quarters. The light of the false sun seared the eye sockets and charred the skin of unwilling witnesses to the tragedy. Sonic blasts ruptured eardrums. Fires consumed the green groves and fertile fields. For a long time afterward, the funereal glow of a distant pyre carried across the kingdom the unforgettable aroma of burning flesh and suffering.

Somewhere in the depths of the new crater of regret, a raven wing illuminated in the darkness glinted for a moment. It was only the beginning.


***
The Vecchi estate had long been dozing peacefully. Alsira, as was her custom, was making her usual evening flight over the flower gardens. The light fragrance of delicate plants mingled exquisitely with the midnight chill, complemented by the gentle shimmer of the moonlight. This illusory, tomb-like picture was one of the few things her soul found pleasant.

Not immediately noticing the pegasus's coat beginning to gleam with an unnatural light, she turned in bewilderment toward the hastily approaching dawn. Only then did her mind pierce with startled realization of what was happening. A moment later, a second flash followed the first — more brutal and chaotic. A powerful shockwave hurled them aside with force, spinning them in a hurricane of fiery wind. The moon darted about in fright from side to side, only managing to regain its balance near the ground. Like a shattered city, they tumbled down in the middle of a neighboring grove, fortunately avoiding serious injury. Rubbing her dislocated shoulder, the girl staggered dazedly among the trees for a while, trying to drive the ringing noise from her ears. Even when the night's canvas once again veiled the surroundings, the afterimages of the infernal catastrophe remained vividly etched on her retinas.

— Margel...

How a talentless GM describes the scene: well, like, boom and f*ck and then it fell and smashed everything to hell, and also it was like super bright and loud, whatever)

How a player describes the scene: ^

As an experienced GM describes the scene: Albus has fallen. You are next.

The most astonishing feature of the underworld's laws, though already known in advance thanks to preliminary reconnaissance, turned out to be inverted gravity — having overcome the initial stage of descending downward, the members of Adalard Grimm's military expedition discovered that to proceed further they needed not to descend, but to ascend. The news of the collapse dismayed many, but the expedition's leader did not lose his composure and managed to organize coordinated and efficient work among his subordinates under the new conditions. It was decided to allocate a small portion of human resources to clear the exit to the surface, while the main forces would set out in search of Ikazkan. But before that, a roll call was necessary, and the Lord of Gildaria tasked Stefania with checking on the tent of each Knight, among whom were:

- Knight of the Lush Meadows

- Knight of the Glow

- Knight of the Wild Flowers

- Knight of Unwavering Courage.

- Knight of the Night Silence.

- Knight of the Rusting Soul.

(More details about each when you visit them).

Without thinking long, Stefania decided to go through the list in order and started with the Lush Flanks Meadows.

-- It is not within human power to have wrought this; it is the ill-fated will of the Gods. Fate treats the continent as but a plaything; Iphilla's will gave birth to the Crater, and surely some other evil entity here sought to doom us to repeat the sad fate of ancient Aphezerie. But the organism of our realm is strong; the loss of one limb is no great fear while the head and heart yet live, and we must think more on how to bring the rest of the body back under our unquestioning command. Vermgrace could not have devised that cunning plan alone, nor carried it out single-handedly; we must find the guilty one and sever his head from his body — the rumors will fall silent on their own once the source is dead.

-- From what I have said before, it is known that at least one, surely an enemy, is among these "neutrals." My trust rating appears to me as follows, from most to least reliable:

Nilcha Imekoh

Galmeus Draxlaüs

Kaleido Cartridge

Diramis Sutrtmoln

Tsiel Pinkoflight

Stratos Genburry

Adalard Grimm

Grimban Odolerus

Gitgood Flaveresens

Maria-Tenerezza Long

Man of Sanborn

Karneya Keykunia Iretiret

-- And if a personal visit to them seems reasonable, I would begin with the first ones on this list.

"Your words are full of high meaning and nobility, my lady Rezara."

Following Deus's praise came Adata's agreement, after which Renavan the Pious no longer waited for anything — he and the two women, having finished their brief preparations, went straight to the terrace from which one could address the common folk.

"O, faithful sons and daughters of glorious Sordgard! Precious subjects of Tezoth, beholden to my throne! May the darkness of prolonged despondency that has enslaved your noble hearts be dispelled, and may the dark clouds that have flooded the clear skies of this land and the neighboring realm lying beyond its horizon be scattered!"

To the eyes of the people, Adata Transend appeared on the Snowface, dressed in a new gown.

"At this solemn moment, Renavan the Pious declares before the face of Tezoth: from now until the day of her death, the burden of responsibility for the well-being of the inhabitants of glorious Sordgard and the defense of the kingdom's borders against threats is placed upon the shoulders of Adata Transend! Behold the one who from this moment has become your lord!"

By this time, a considerable crowd had gathered below, and a significant portion of them did not immediately grasp the essence of what had happened.

"Ah... Ooo... OooohOOOOOoooh!" — The residents of the regional capital rejoiced at the news; at last, the period of stagnation that had so disheartened everyone would come to an end. "Long live Adata! Long live Renavan the Pious! Long life to the kingdom!"

Emsia Transend, who had run out into the street, bit her own fingernail. At first her gaze expressed the emotion "oh, that was allowed?", but soon acceptance of what had happened came to her — she herself had been thinking of doing the same, but was too late. Regardless of HOW it happened, canceling the fact rapidly spreading among the people was no longer possible, except perhaps through a bloody solution — one she in no way wished to pursue. Despite her desire to inherit her father's title, Emsia would never allow herself to shed her sister's blood. However...

"This will not do." — Not everyone accepted such an outcome as satisfactory. Nosy and her entourage cleared a space for themselves beneath the terrace and took up combat positions. "The next lord should be the most worthy, not the one chosen by that old man."

"How dare you, you little cur!" — Adata was indignant. "This is none of your concern at all — return to that hole you crawled out of!"

"Woof! I can't. Come down and we'll settle it in warrior fashion, who needs to return where. Or let's do team against team, if your hands have never held anything but silk and precious stones."

As a result of all this, the situation turned out as follows...

"I am very sorry that everything turned out this way, my lady." — The Knight of the Crushing Blow said to Rezara, standing opposite her.