A Wayward Savior

[theholywarrior]

Who: Patroklos & Whomever finds him
When: Midday
Where: Plaza (Or rather wandering away from the main plaza)
Style: Prose & action both welcomed
Status: Open


[ If it hadn't been for the unusual kindness of a local woman, Patroklos would have never stirred from consciousness. The blond had to have been out for a few minutes, fifteen at max. The one who solidly nailed him in the back of his head with that book was long forgotten by him. However, the dull headache he now sports won't allow him to forget that he was bested by a mere book. Wobbly rising to his feet as he clutched his head in dire distress, Patroklos eyes widened once caught glimpse of the blue-silver blade. Laying right before his feet was none other than the coveted Soul Calibur gleaming in all its brilliance. Staring at the sword with mild wonder, Patroklos hesitated to reach for it. ]

That sword...

[ His voice was laced with agony. ]

It's more than what it seems to be.

[ Unsure what to do now, Patroklos gingerly picked up the spirit sword by its hilt and sheathed it once more. ]

...nhhm...

[ Now holding his head with both hands once the headache intensified, Patroklos slowly began to walk down the avenue aimlessly. ]

Comments

[theholywarrior]

[ Now gripping his aching head in-between his hands as they walked, Patroklos answered him quietly.]

..Yes. I've heard a little about this realm before from others.

[donotcomprehend]

Good.

[The rest of the way to the clinic is quiet, unless Patrklos has any questions to ask. When they get to the clinic, he gestures toward it.]

It is here. If you should need anything else, I am Gale. Ask for me or for other members of the Embryon on the SFC.

[theholywarrior]

Embryon? Now what is that? A clan?

[ Despite being silent for most of the trip minus a few moans of agony, it seems that Patroklos found the will to speak again. He gave Gale a suspicious glance before gazing at the clinic before him. ]

This is not some sort of trap, now is it?

[donotcomprehend]

Embryon is my tribe.

I give my word that it is not. But if it would reassure you, I will enter with you.

[theholywarrior]

That's the name of your tribe?

[ He blinked. ]

Oh, I see now. You're a native of this world, aren't you? That would explain your peculiar attire.

[donotcomprehend]

[And Gale blinks back. That's an interesting conclusion.]

Incorrect. Embryon is from a world called the Junkyard. I appeared here only a few months ago, as did my comrades. All of the members of my tribe originally from the Junkyard wear this kind of armor.

[theholywarrior]

Is that so? Ah, so even you hail from one of those alternate worlds.

[ He would've prattled on hadn't the migraine gotten a tad worse now. Hesitantly choosing to trust his new companion, Patroklos cautiously walked inside of the clinic looking absolutely miserable. ]

May Hephaestus help you if this is some sort of ill-conceived plot.

[ Yes, Gale. The Athenian just threatened you. ]

[donotcomprehend]

It is no plot.

[Then, after a pause, because Gale has never given up a chance to get more information about anything?]

What is Hephaestus?