Apostles of Doom

“What?” the knight seemed puzzled and looked up at the Knight Rampant, shaking his head. “Clearly you are unfamiliar with this place. Have you ever tried dying here?”

That caused everyone to shift uncomfortably, remembering their heated discussions about the topic this afternoon.

“What exactly do you mean?” Captain Cranshall demanded.

“Well, it’s bloody difficult is what I mean!” Sir Samwell retorted angrily.

“What do you mean, it is difficult?” Sir Lady Serah asked.

“I mean this is the land of the dead and the damned! No one is actually alive here, not in the normal sense. If you are already dead, how exactly are you supposed to die?” the knight asked as if explaining the obvious to a group of morons.

No one said anything for several moments; all were trying to come to grips with that statement. A statement that was admittedly consistent with what they had all been taught about damnation.

“Except we did not get here by dying. We opened a portal and came through it,” Captain Cranshall explained to the knight.

Sir Samwell grimaced. “As did I. Or rather, I followed the archdemon through his portal. I am still dead, at least as long as I’m here.”

“I think we need you to be more specific,” Heron said to the collapsed knight.

Sir Samwell sighed, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the bulkhead. “Occupants of the Abyss are cut off from the Outer Planes; there is no connection to them.”

“Yes, we have discovered that,” Sir Gaius agreed.

“So if you do die, you have nowhere to go. And further, the Abyss is not one of the material planes, the so called Planes of Man. Animus can exist here on its own; it doesn’t automatically disperse back into nature and get reabsorbed. And the plane is fairly mana rich. Long story short, you just regenerate.”

Captain Cranshall shook his head, not understanding. “So if I run you through the heart right now?”

Samwell grimaced. “Well, assuming you could pierce my armor, which is doubtful, it would bloody well hurt, and I might pass out, but I would recover. I would regenerate.”

Sir Lady Serah looked at him curiously. “Is that why you appear to be so young?”

The Knight of High Justice smiled charmingly at her. “Indeed, my lady. Skin and muscle cells continually regenerate to the state they were in when you arrived. Those who are in the Abyss are essentially immortal.”

That left everyone silent as they pondered this.

“What if you are wounded when you arrive?” Sir Gaius suddenly asked.

“What do you mean?” Samwell replied.

“You said the cells regenerate to the state they were in when one arrives.”

Samwell nodded. “I see your point. But no, you will heal to your body’s optimal state. Long-term healed wounds, of course, will not easily regenerate, although I suppose in theory they would eventually. Diseases also seem to be healed or at least halted with time. I am no healer nor expert on diseases, but no one dies of disease.”

“How do you know any of this at all?” Sir Gadius asked suspiciously.

Samwell gave the other knight a tired glare. “Try spending a century or two being tortured in an archdemon’s dungeon. You’ll eventually figure things out.”

“So you’ve escaped from an archdemon’s dungeon?” Sir Lady Serah asked.

“On several occasions.” Samwell said wearily. “It’s one of the things one must do to avoid pain in this place.”

“Are you thirsty?” Halferth suddenly asked the Knight of High Justice, moving across the chamber to offer the knight a glass of water that had appeared in his hand.

“Yes, that sounds fantastic!” Samwell said before eyeing the sorcerer suspiciously. “You did hear me just say that you can’t actually kill someone here, yes? So if this is poison or something, it won’t work that well.”

“It is not poison. It is water, with a bit of sorcery to validate your credentials,” the CSO explained.

Sir Samwell gave the sorcerer a tired look. “A truth potion? Seriously?” He shook his head and reached for the glass. “Very well, then.”

Sir Samwell took the glass and drank it in a single gulp. He handed it back to the sorcerer before leaning back to rest. “I assume it takes a few minutes?” Samwell asked.

“Not even that,” the sorcerer said, smiling. “What is your name?”

The knight sighed, opening his eyes and meeting those of the sorcerer. “I am Sir Samwell, First Knight of High Justice and Sworn Champion of the Keeper of Law, Ponchas the Third. On Nilis the Twelfth in the One Hundred and Thirty-Fifth year of Oorstemothian Official Time, I pursued an archdemon through the Gates of Hell and have been trapped, unable to return to Oorstemoth, ever since.”

The knight started clanging around in preparation to stand. “What other questions may I answer truthfully for you?

The Outpost (Abyss): DOA + 5, Late First Period