“I see thou art in engaged with great trial indeed, tis akin to a gummy gnat scaling these great fudge mountains. Thou shalt struggle and find your quest doomed as thou art currently.” Torsten grumbled from beneath the visor. The flames drew harsh shadowy edges on his rusted armor. Liam leaned back and sighed.

They’d spent the last couple of hours in discussion. While Liam was happy to speak with another human, Torsten evaluation of his situation worried him. The Knight also didn’t seem to have any concept of what earth was. Then there was the fact Torsten’s civilization was in ruins. From what Liam understood, Torsten was one of the last survivors of whatever human kingdom had existed in this murder-world. Maybe even the only human kingdom that ever existed.

“I don’t even know where to start with killing the Rulers.”

“Tis often we doth ask where the path does lie, yet tis in the nature of man to not perceive it hidden by grass underneath our feet. Have heart, Liam of Wisconsin. Thou hath already begun this quest in earnest. Thoust hath class from H.E.L.L, speak true?”

Liam’s eyes widened. That part he hadn’t mentioned. So far, they’d only discussed where he came from and what he was trying to do here. Torsten had listened attentively with balanced amusement and fascination as Liam described his world to the man. But never once had Liam mentioned the system. “How do you know about the H.E.L.L. System?”

“Tis the curse of the gods upon our race. All of mankind doth hath the faint touch of H.E.L.L. to them. It doth allow the most driven of ours to perform deeds of greatness—both of incredible horrible and awe-inspiring good.” Torsten’s voice drifted off, reflective of his statement.

Liam cleared his throat, “I’ve been scared and alone since I got here.”

“Thou art no longer without companionship, tis there not a hound resting its head upon thy bedding? Tis there not another man taking succor at thy fire?” Torsten let out a hollow laugh; noise echoed out of his helmet.

“Would you be willing to help me? I need all the help I can get. I don’t understand this world, and I just want to go home.”

“Thou doth bid me vow my blade in your service? Aye, Liam. I shalt lend you my aid if thy will grant me a contingent.” Torsten shifted, standing up to his full height. His armor scraped against itself as he moved and set one of those mighty gauntleted hands upon the hilt of his sword. “I pray thee offer me a boon.”

“I—I don’t have anything. What can I pay you?” Liam stood up as well, trying not to let his desperation show. He needed this man’s help. If for nothing else than to have another human voice. Sure, he had Moose now, but the Chocolate Mousse Pup was still an animal at the end of the day, one that, by its nature, couldn’t relate fully to his struggles.

“When thou doth slay a Ruler, thy doth taketh upon thyself their mark. Whence this occurs, tis then I shalt ask for my boon. Doth thou vow to grant it then?” Torsten lowered his head in a gesture of respect.

Liam cleared his throat. Taking upon a mark after killing one of the Rulers? Things appeared even more complicated than at first glance, but if this man helped him get that far—possibly even further, he’d grant whatever Torsten wanted. “I do—I vow to fulfill your favor once we’ve killed one of the Rulers.”

Torsten pulled his great-sword free from the ground in a single second; with a twang, the long length of the sword arced through the sky. His iron gauntlets slide down the blade, shoving the hilt towards Liam. “Grasp my blade,” Torsten commanded.

Liam grabbed onto the hilt; immediately, Torsten stopped supporting the weight of the blade. The greatsword’s tip hit the ground, and Liam groaned, using every ounce of his strength to lift it back into the air, forced to grip the handle with both hands even to have a chance. Damn, how the hell does this carry this thing? Torsten lowered himself to a knee, bowing his head towards him. His movements were sleek and purposeful, even with that heavy plate armor. “Doth place the blade on both of my shoulders, and repeat this question, ‘Doth thou Torsten Of The Velvet Order swear fealty to I, Liam of Wisconsin.’”

With an odd eyebrow raise at the name of the Order, Liam complied with the Knight's wishes. After a brief struggle, he shifted the massive blade from one shoulder to the other, repeating the phrase exactly.

Torsten took in a deep breath of air. “I, Torsten of The Velvet Order, doth hereby swear fealty to thou, Liam of Wisconsin. From the dimmest of nights where lights doth not penetrate the shadow to the day when the unholy sun scorcheth the land to oblivion from high above. This blade shalt cleave apart thy enemies, my Lord.”

You have taken a vow of binding!

Torsten Of The Velvet Order has become your follower!

You have absorbed the Sin of your follower!

Sin gained: Oath of the Velvet Order

Liam. Liam. Liam. Whathaveyoudonewhathaveyoudonewhathaveyoudone

Liam stared at the blue box. He tried to still the welling panic while rereading the message several times. A second later, he begged for his character sheet to open.

Name: Liam Holland

Race: Human

Class: Molecular Gastromancer [Level 2] [Experience 275/300]

Health: 100/100 | Mana: 150/150

Attributes:

Vigor: 10 | Strength: 10 | Dexterity: 11

Intelligence: 15 | Willpower: 12 | Ego: 9

Sins:

Oath Of The Velvet Order

Skills:

Gastromancy rank: Beginner [3]

Spells:

Sugar Crystal Disruption Rank: Beginner [2]

There it was, he’d obtained a sin, and per usual, there wasn’t a single explanation of what that meant. Liam’s heart raced in fear. What did that mean? He turned his attention to Torsten, who still sat with his head lowered and the blade on his shoulder. The man was as still as a statue. Liam tried to speak once and failed. He let out a nervous laugh.

“Uh, Torsten. What’s this Sin I got after making that vow?” Liam asked, his voice cracking.

“Thou hath taken a knight as thy follower, my Lord. As tis the way of this world, thou doth accept our Sin as your own.” Torsten said.

“Uhm—okay. But what does that mean? What is the Oath Of The Velvet Order?”

“Tis the Sin of my order. Tis a Sin of pride. We shalt not suffer to idly bear witness to the struggles of those that art weaker than us; thy must render aid if bid.”

Suddenly things made a lot more sense. Liam rubbed at his eyes. Oh, fuck. This is going to bite me back at some point. I just know it. “What happens if I break this oath?”

“The heavens shalt smite thee and all in thy lineage.”

Yep. That doesn’t sound good at all. Alright. Be helpful when people ask! Got it! At least there weren’t many creatures in this world that wanted to ask for help. Though… Liam narrowed his eyes at the knight still kneeling on the ground. The oath bid them to help at the request of anything weaker than them. There’d been no actual reason to take on this Sin or promise a boon; Torsten would’ve been sworn to help him regardless. Did he trick me?

Torsten remained quiet, head still respectfully bowed. Liam hefted the blade off the man’s shoulder and let the tip rest on the ground again. The knight stood up and grabbed the greatsword, swinging it to rest on his back in one smooth and easy motion. “The night doth grow long m’lord, do taketh rest. There shalt be much to be done on the morrow if thou art to gain the strength to slay a Ruler.”