"BOY!!!!"
The shout shattered the quiet like a thunderclap, raw and furious, echoing through the trees from somewhere close. Arthur's body went rigid, his arms tightening around Mira instinctively as his head snapped toward the sound. Mira gasped, her naked form pressing harder against him, her massive breasts squishing against his chest, her hands clutching his shoulders as if to anchor herself. Her eyes widened in terror, the color draining from her face.
"Arthur... that's Father," she whispered her body trembling in his hold. "How? How did he find us? We crossed the river, we lost them didn't we?!"
Arthur's heart slammed against his ribs, the panic rising like bile in his throat. He pulled away just enough to look at her, his hands cupping her face, thumbs brushing her cheeks. "I don't know," he said, his voice low and urgent, though it shook at the edges.
"The dog... maybe the scent held. Or they found a way across sooner. Gods, Mira, I thought we had more time."
She shook her head, tears welling in her eyes, her lips trembling. "What do we do? He's here he found us. Arthur, we can't fight him, not like this. You're hurt, and I'm... I'm useless. We have to run!"
Arthur glanced toward the darkness beyond the firelight, the shouts growing louder now. His mind raced, the fear twisting in his gut like a knife. "You have to go," he said suddenly. "Take the path north frim here, head deeper into the woods. I'll hold him off, buy you time."
Mira's eyes flashed with horror, her hands gripping his arms tighter, nails digging into his skin. "No! Arthur I won't leave you! Don't you dare say that. There's no Mira without Arthur, we're twins, we're everything to each other. If you stay, I stay. I can't lose you, not after all this!"
"Mira, please," Arthur begged, his hands shaking as he held her. "You have to live. If they catch you, they'll drag you back, force you into that marriage. I can't let that happen... I love you too much. Go, run and find a village, hide. I'll find you again, I swear it."
Tears streamed down her face now, her body shaking with sobs as she shook her head violently. "You think I could live without you? After everything? You're my heart, my everything. If you die here, I die too. Please, don't make me leave you. We face this together, like we always have. I can't... I can't do this alone."
Arthur's resolve cracked, the pain in her voice tearing at him, his own eyes stinging with unshed tears. He pulled her close again, burying his face in her hair for a heartbeat, breathing her in. "Okay," he whispered finally. "Okay, we stay together. But you hide here, don't come out no matter what. I'll confront him, try to end this."
She nodded against his chest, her sobs quieting, though her hands still clutched him like she'd never let go. "Be careful," she whispered. "Come back to me."
He pulled away, his heart aching, and quickly slipped on his breeches, the wet fabric clinging uncomfortably to his skin. He grabbed the sword and stepped out of the grove, the fire's light fading behind him as he moved toward the sound. He moved forward cautiously, his bare feet sinking into the damp earth, every sense alert as he scanned the shadows.
There, just beyond the grove, stood Gormon; he was dripping wet, his clothes clinging to his massive frame like a second skin, water pooling at his feet. The hound sat at his heels, a low rumble in its throat as it stared at Arthur with unblinking eyes. Gormon's axe hung loose in one hand, the blade catching the moonlight, his face twisted into a mask of fury and exhaustion, his beard matted and his eyes bloodshot from the cold river crossing.
Arthur's gaze swept the darkness behind him, searching for movement, for the others he knew had to be there. But the forest was empty, no sign of Garlan, Gregor or the Tanners lurking in the shadows. "Where are they?" Arthur called out, slightly confused. "Garlan? Gregor? The Tanners? Did you come alone?"
Gormon let out a harsh laugh. "Cowards, the lot of them. Wouldn't cross the river, said it was too dangerous, too dark. Darry whined about the cold, Brant and Ulric hung back like scared boys. Even Garlan hesitated, muttering about the current being too strong. But not me. I swam it, boy. I crossed that gods-damned river with the hound on my back because I won't let you take what's mine. Mira's coming home, and you're coming back in pieces."
Arthur's grip tightened on the sword, his stance shifting as he faced his father across the clearing. The man looked larger than ever in the moonlight, his broad shoulders heaving with each breath; he looked positivelyy dangerous with an axe in his hand. But Arthur swallowed the fear rising in his throat and stepped forward. "It doesn't have to be like this, Father. Let us go. Mira doesn't want this marriage, she never did. We can disappear, leave Harrowfield behind. You won't have to see us again. No more shame, no more trouble. Just... let us go."
Gormon's face darkened, his eyes narrowing to slits as he took a heavy step forward, the hound growling at his side. "Let you go? After everything you've done? You've been nothing but misfortune since the day you were born, boy. Weak from the start, always sick, always dragging us down. I fed you, clothed you, put a roof over your head, and what do I get? You ruin Mira's future, the one thing that could've lifted this family out of the mud. I had plans for her, she could've married high! Merchants, knights, maybe even a minor lord if the gods smiled on us. But you? Your business with the Tanners girl ruined that and to make matters worse, you turned her against her own blood. You've shamed us all, but me most of all, and now you think you can just walk away?"
Arthur felt a chill run down his spine, but he held his ground, the sword in his hand. "I didn't steal her. She wanted to leave. She hates the Tanners, hates what you were forcing her into. This isn't about how much of a shameful son I am, it's about what's right. Please, Father, don't make me fight you."
Gormon stared at him for a long moment, his chest rising and falling, the axe twitching in his grip as if it had a mind of its own. Then he shook his head slowly, a dark smile creeping across his face. "Fight me? You think you can stand against me, boy? I've swung this axe since before you could walk. But it doesn't matter. I no longer care if they call me kinslayer. The gods can judge me as they will. I'm going to bury this blade in your skull, just like I should've done the day you were born."
Arthur felt a flicker of intimidation, his resolve wavering as he stared at the man who'd loomed over his life like a storm cloud. Gormon was a wall of muscle, his arms thick from years of labor, his eyes burning with a hatred that cut deep. With his injuries still fresh and exhaustion weighing him down like lead, Arthur wondered if he could really win this; his body screamed no, but his heart refused to back down.
He shook it off, drawing a deep breath, finding the fire inside him that had carried him this far. "If you don't back away now and leave us alone," Arthur said in a low tone, "you'll die here."
That ignited something in Gormon, his face contorting with rage as he let out a bellowing laugh that echoed through the trees. "You? You're going to kill me? What a joke! You're weak boy! You've always been weak! A sniveling runt who couldn't lift a pitchfork without whining. You think a stolen sword makes you a man? I'll crush you like the insect you are!"
"I'm not weak... not anymore," Arthur replied, his grip firm on the hilt as he raised the blade.
"Get him mutt!!!" Gormon shouted at the dog and the dog rushed towards Arthur, bounding across the ground with his teeth bared.
Arthur whistled sharply. The hound stopped in its tracks. Arthur pointed away. "Go home," he said.
The dog whined and turned. It trotted back into the trees.
Gormon stared, his face twisting with confusion and fury. "What the hell did you do to my dog? Get back here, you mutt!"
Arthur looked at him with a. Calm expression. "Who do you think trained it? You were always too busy beating me or drowning in ale. It was me who fed it every day, me who taught it to sit and fetch and track. It listens to me because I treated it like family. Not like you ever did for anyone."
Gormon's eyes bulged, his knuckles whitening around the axe handle as veins throbbed in his neck. "You little shit! I don't need that damn mutt to end you. Come on, boy, let's see if you've got any spine under that weak hide!"
Arthur raised his sword, the blade catching the moonlight. "This doesn't have to end in blood, Father."
Gormon let out a bellowing laugh that echoed through the trees like thunder, shaking leaves loose from the branches above. "Blood? That's all you've ever brought me, you worthless runt! From the day you came screaming into this world, you've been a curse on this family. Weak, sickly, draining my coin and my patience like a leech. I should've ended you then, spared us all the misery you've caused!"
Arthur gripped his sword tighter, the words hitting like blows to his chest. "I never asked to be born. But I am your son. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"
"Son?" Gormon spat, his voice dripping with venom as he took a heavy step forward, the ground crunching under his boot. "You're no son of mine. Look at you—small, scrawny, always hiding behind Mira's skirts like a coward. You ruined her too, turned her against me! She was my pride, my way out of this shit life, and you stole her away like the thief you are."
Arthur felt the sting of those words deep in his gut, but he held his ground, his voice cracking with raw emotion. "Why do you hate me so much? I've tried to make you proud my whole life. What did I ever do to you?"
Gormon roared, his face contorting with rage as he charged forward, his massive frame barreling through the underbrush like a storm, branches snapping under his boots. "Proud? Of what? You were never mine, you look like your mother, weak like her, a constant reminder of my seed not properly taking root!"
He swung his axe from the side in a wide arc, the blade whistling through the air. Arthur stepped back just in time, the axe embedding into a nearby tree trunk with a splintering crack, bark flying like shrapnel. Arthur thrust his sword at Gormon's exposed chest, but Gormon yanked the axe free and twisted his body, the sword grazing his arm and drawing a line of blood.
Gormon grunted and punched with his free hand, his fist aimed at Arthur's jaw. Arthur ducked, the punch grazing his hair, and slashed at Gormon's legs. Gormon jumped back, but his boot caught on a root, stumbling him slightly. Arthur pressed, thrusting again at Gormon's midsection. Gormon blocked with the axe handle, the impact vibrating through Arthur's arms, jarring his wounds. "You think a little blood scares me?" Gormon snarled, his eyes wild with fury as he shoved forward, using his weight to push Arthur back two steps, their boots sliding in the mud. "I've killed men twice your size in battle!"
Arthur swung his sword at Gormon's side, the blade cutting through the air. Gormon blocked again, but Arthur followed with a quick slash at his arm. Gormon roared and punched Arthur's shoulder, the blow landing hard and sending pain shooting down Arthur's side. Arthur almost flew to the ground, but managed to catch himself in a spin and thrust his sword forward, the tip grazing Gormon's thigh—something he knew as attributed to his [Falling Star Style]. Blood seeped through the fabric, but Gormon didn't slow, he swung his axe overhead, the blade crashing down. Arthur sidestepped, the axe slamming into the ground.
Gormon ripped the axe free and charged again, his breath coming in ragged snarls. "I'll crush you!" he bellowed as he swung his axe at his legs. Arthur jumped over the blade, landing awkwardly on a loose rock that shifted under his boot, throwing him off balance. Gormon seized the moment, punching Arthur's chest with his free hand. Arthur gasped, the air knocked from his lungs, and flew back into a tree trunk, the rough bark scraping his skin.
"Why?" Arthur wheezed, blocking another axe swing that splintered the branch above him, leaves raining down. "Why couldn't you love me like you loved Mira? Was I that much of a disappointment?"
Gormon laughed bitterly, his axe embedding in the tree as Arthur ducked away. "Love? You think this is about not loving you? I don't love any of you! You're all just leaches weighing me down!!! I had a good life before that stupid whore got pregnant! I could've left but I stayed, I thought one of my children would at least pay me back for my sacrifice, but you're all ungrateful little shits!!!"
Arthur slashed at Gormon's arm, the sword cutting deep this time, blood spraying across the leaves. Gormon roared in pain and swung his fist wildly, clipping Arthur's jaw and sending him spinning into the underbrush. Arthur hit the ground hard, rolling through wet leaves and mud, the damp earth clinging to his skin. He pushed up quickly, his sword still in hand, but Gormon was on him with his axe raised.
Arthur blocked the downward strike, the force driving him to one knee, his arms straining as the blades locked. Gormon leaned in, his face inches from Arthur's, spit flying with his words. "You are going to die here boy! Then I'll punish Mira for her insolence, I'll let all the Tanners take their turns with her!!!"
Arthur shoved back with all his strength, breaking the lock and slashing at Gormon's leg. Gormon twisted away, but the blade nicked his thigh, more blood flowing. He punched Arthur's side, hitting the fresh wounds from the river, and Arthur cried out, doubling over. Gormon grabbed him by the tunic and threw him against a tree, the impact jarring Arthur's spine.
Gormon swung his axe again, forcing Arthur to jump back into a bush, thorns scraping his arms. "You think you can beat me?" Gormon shouted. "I've broken men like you for sport!"
Arthur thrust his sword forward, the blade grazing Gormon's chest as he sidestepped. "Then why are you bleeding, Father?" he shot back. "You getting weak in your old age?!"
Gormon roared and charged again, his axe embedding in a low branch as Arthur dodged, wood splintering. He punched Arthur's face, the blow splitting his lip and loosening some teeth, blood filling his mouth. Arthur staggered but slashed back, the sword cutting Gormon's forearm. Gormon didn't flinch—he grabbed Arthur's wrist and twisted, forcing a cry from Arthur's throat as pain shot up his arm.
"I may be old but I'm not weak," Gormon snarled, his breath hot on Arthur's face. "I'm going to take pleasure in this boy..."
Arthur headbutted Gormon, their foreheads cracking together, and broke free, stumbling back into the clearing. Blood trickled from his brow, mixing with sweat, as Gormon advanced again with his axe in his hand. Arthur stumbled back into the clearing, blood dripping from his split lip, his breath ragged as he clutched his sword with trembling hands. Gormon's face was a mask of rage, his forearm bleeding where Arthur's blade had cut, but he didn't slow, his massive frame charging forward like a bear through the underbrush.
"You took everything!!!!" Gormon roared, swinging the axe down with both hands. Arthur threw his sword up, the steel clanging against the axe head, the impact jarring his arms so hard his wounds screamed, blood seeping through the bandages on his ribs. He staggered back, boots slipping in the mud, and Gormon pressed forward, slamming his foot into Arthur's chest. The blow knocked the air from his lungs, and he gasped, doubling over as pain exploded through his battered body.
"Why, Father?" Arthur choked out, as the pain and anger from years of neglect and abuse started to come out. "Why was I never enough for you? I tried... gods I tried to be the son you wanted!"
Gormon laughed, a guttural sound that shook the trees, and kicked Arthur's side, his boot connecting with a sickening thud. Arthur crumpled to the ground, the sword slipping from his fingers and landing in the dirt. "Enough?" Gormon spat, looming over him, his axe raised. "You were never one of my sons, just a cruel joke from the gods, a punishment for my many sins!" He lifted his axe up to finally finish the job.
Arthur rolled away as the axe came down, the blade sinking into the earth where he'd been, mud splattering across his face. He scrambled to his knees, his chest heaving, and lunged for Gormon's arm, grabbing it with both hands and twisting with all his strength, his body instinctively falling into the motions of Shibukawa-ryū. Gormon's momentum carried him forward, his arm bending awkwardly, but he roared and yanked free, swinging his elbow into Arthur's jaw. The blow sent Arthur sprawling into a thorn bush, sharp spines tearing at his bare back, fresh blood mixing with the sweat and dirt.
"Get up, you coward!" Gormon bellowed, ripping the axe from the ground and charging again, his boots trampling fallen branches. Arthur pushed himself up, pain lancing through his side, and dodged as the axe swung, the blade grazing his arm, slicing a thin line of blood. He stumbled into a tree, the rough bark scraping his shoulder, and grabbed Gormon's wrist as he swung again, twisting his body to redirect the force. Gormon stumbled forward, crashing into the tree with a grunt, but he turned and punched Arthur's stomach, the blow doubling him over, vomit rising in his throat.
"You think you can fight me with the same fancy moves you used on the Tanner boys, on Gregor!?" Gormon growled, grabbing Arthur by the throat and lifting him off the ground, his fingers squeezing like a vice. "You're nothing! A weakling who'll die in this dirt!"
Arthur clawed at Gormon's hand, his vision blurring as he gasped for air. "I... I'm not... weak," he rasped, his voice barely a whisper. "I never was!" He kicked Gormon's knee, his foot connecting with a dull crack, and Gormon staggered, loosening his grip. Arthur dropped to the ground, coughing as he tried to catch his breath, but quickly moving out the way as Gormon got ready to swing again.
He lunged for Gormon's arm again and twisted it, pulling Gormon off balance and slamming him into another tree. The impact shook leaves loose, raining down like ash, but Gormon roared and swung his fist, catching Arthur in the ribs. Arthur cried out, collapsing to one knee, blood dripping from his mouth as the pain overwhelmed him. His injuries were becoming too much... his body was failing, exhaustion dragging him down like a stone.
Gormon grabbed him by the hair, yanking his head back. "Look at you," he snarled, his breath hot and sour. "Still crying, still weak. Mira won't save you this time." He threw Arthur to the ground, his body hitting the mud with a wet smack, and raised the axe high.
Arthur's heart pounded, his vision swimming, but he forced himself to move, rolling to the side as the axe buried itself in the earth. He grabbed Gormon's ankle, twisting with what little strength he had, pulling the big man down into the mud beside him. Gormon roared, scrambling up, and kicked Arthur's side again, the boot connecting with a crunch that made Arthur scream, his vision going white. Arthur stood up and swayed on his feet, blood dripping from his wounds, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he faced Gormon in the moonlit clearing. The ground was torn up around them, mud and broken branches scattered like the aftermath of a stormm. Gormon stood, his massive frame heaving a look of fury etebced into his face.
"This is the end Arthur... I hope they've reserved a spot for you in the seven hells!" Gormon roared, his voice shaking the trees as he charged forward, axe raised high for a killing blow.
"RAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!" He roared.
Arthur's legs trembled, his injuries burning, but he forced himself to move, his body reacting on instinct. He sidestepped as the axe came down, the blade sinking into the mud with a wet thud, and grabbed Gormon's wrist, twisting it with Shibukawa-ryū to redirect his momentum. Gormon stumbled forward, his bulk carrying him toward a jagged stump protruding from the ground, its splintered edge sharp from a recent break.
Arthur didn't think, he acted, pulling Gormon's arm harder, using his own weight against him. "I WON'T LET YOU HURT ME ANYMORE!!!"
Gormon roared, trying to wrench free, but Arthur twisted again, forcing him down. Gormon's foot caught on a root, and he fell forward, his own momentum driving him onto the stump. The sharp wood pierced his chest with a sickening crunch, blood spraying as it impaled him through the ribs. Gormon gasped, his eyes widening, the axe falling from his hand as he collapsed to his knees, the stump buried deep in his torso.
Arthur froze, his hands still gripping Gormon's arm, his breath catching in his throat. Blood poured from the wound, pooling in the dirt, and Gormon's mouth opened, a gurgling sound escaping as he clutched at the stump. "You..." he choked, his voice weak, his eyes locked on Arthur with a mix of shock and hatred. "You... killed me..."
Arthur let go, stumbling back, his hands shaking as he stared at his father, the reality hitting him like a blow. "No... no, I didn't mean to..." he whispered.
Gormon's head slumped forward, his body sagging against the stump, blood dripping steadily into the mud. "Weak... boy..." he rasped, and then he went still, his eyes glassy in the moonlight.
Arthur dropped to his knees, his sword falling from his hand as he stared at Gormon's lifeless form. "Why did it have to come to this?" he said in frustration. "Why couldn't you just let us go?"
The forest was silent, save for the faint rustle of leaves in the wind, he hadn't wanted to kill his father only stop him, perhaps wound him badly enough he wouldn't be able to follow.
His father was dead. He was a Kinslayer.
Mira's voice broke through the haze. "Arthur?" She stepped out, her naked form catching the moonlight. She saw Gormon and froze, her eyes widening, a hand flying to her mouth. "Oh gods... Arthur, what happened?"
He couldn't look at her, his head bowed. "I didn't mean to... I just wanted to protect you."
She rushed to him, dropping to her knees beside him, her arms wrapping around him tightly, her body warm against his cold, bloodied skin. "It's okay," she whispered, her voice shaking as she held him. "You did what you had to. He wouldn't have stopped, Arthur. He would've killed you."
Arthur shook his head. "He's my father... was my father. I killed him, Mira. I'm a kinslayer."
"You're not," she said fiercely, pulling back to cup his face, forcing him to meet her eyes. "You saved us. You saved me. He chose this, not you."
Despite Miras words and the two notifications that popped up, Arthur couldn't help the hollow feeling that had formed in the pit of his stomach.
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[QUEST COMPLETED]
PURSUIT
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Description:
Your father, Gormon, and the Tanners are hot on your trail, fueled by rage and a thirst for vengeance. You must outrun them, leaving the shadows of Harrowfield behind forever.
Objective:
– Evade Gormon and the Tanners until you are beyond their reach [Complete]
Bonus Objectives:
– Uncover how they are tracking you [Complete]
– Defeat your father once and for all [Complete]
Rewards Gained:
– +1 to all stats
– +1 Otherworld Token
– Random Item
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[QUEST COMPLETED]
OLD MAN YELLS AT FIST
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Description:
Gormon has been an abusive man your entire life. He has pushed you, beaten you, mocked you, and worse. It was time to put him on the ground and keep him there.
Objective:
– Beat Gormon in a fight [Complete]
Bonus Objectives:
– Take no damage [Failed]
– Overwhelm him completely [Failed]
Rewards Gained:
– Strength +2
– Constitution +2
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(AN: Kinda cringe, but tbh it's hard not to feel resentment to someone who has hated you your entire life. Anyway Kings Landing up next boys.)
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