A Knight's Return

**Date Started:** September 25, 2020
**Date Completed:** Ongoing
**Previous Role-Play:**
**Users Involved:** User:BQD, User:Garlicfork
**Setting:** Exoma
**Characters Involved:**
* Jeanne D. Arc, Alcyone Samson

## A Knight's Pride

The night was dark on the advanced island of Exoma. Several lights filled its various towns, the people chatted, enjoying many festivities that the place had to give. Restaurants, shops, houses, they were all booming with civilians who passed their time as they did any other day. It seemed quite unusual, especially considering the large amounts of guards that the island carried. Near every corner, and every establishment, men in darkened chest plates and swords walked around, although even those very soldiers appeared to be having a fine time.

The weather had been fantastic for the preceding few days: hot, dry, and clear. This heat had extended into the night, and Samson was not too happy about it. While the night provided a welcome break from direct sun, it was still warm enough to make him feel as though he were melting. His time on Exoma had been mostly uneventful, apart from a few minor run ins with the guards. The primary source of this was the fact that Samson was not authorised to be on the island in the first place. Wandering the moonlit streets, he saw an old-fashioned bulletin board. Heading over to take a look, the man thought to himself how strange that such a seemingly advanced city still had one of these.

As he neared it, Samson realised there was only one poster on the board. More accurately, there were over a dozen copies of one poster - the same one he had seen all over town. Having mostly ignored them, this had finally piqued his interest. Pulling one free from the board, Samson read through it. The moon struggled to provide enough light to sufficiently illuminate the text, and it took a few seconds for Samson's eyes to adjust to trying to read in the dark. The poster was simple; no image, just large block letters advertising some sort of group. What was this, a band member request? At the bottom was a name, Jeanne D. Arc. Snorting to himself, Samson pinned the poster back up and walked off.

"Oi, chase after her!" a voice called intensely. Marching could be heard nearing the alley Samson was in and moments later, a figure emerged, followed by what appeared to be a squadron of soldiers. A cloak protected them from sight, and they ran towards Samson at full force, and as she turned around to look at the guards, she was headed towards a straight collision path to Samson.

"I will not yield!"

The woman, clad entirely in red, hit Samson at full force. The pair of them fell to the earth, and in mere seconds the guards had the pair of them surrounded. Looking at the woman next to him, Samson shook his head.

"Still plan on not yielding?"

Despite the sarcasm dripping from his words, the white-haired man analysed the situation he was in. There were twelve guards, each of them heavily armed and armoured. Though he remained on the floor for now, Samson shifted his weight so that he would be able to move at a moments notice.

"W-who are you?" Arc quickly stood up, ignoring the soldiers that surrounded them. She dusted herself off, looking at Samson somewhat embarrassedly. "I apologize, my good sir. It was not my intention to rush towards you." she extended her hand to help him, though as she did...

*Schwoop*

A blade approached furiously, aiming to cut Arc's hand in half. Following that one sword, two more came, from behind Arc and Samson. The men groaned angrily, though the last two would not be enough to kill them, it'd definitely incapacitate them if they remained stationary.

The three blades moved in, and Samson smiled darkly. Flying to his feet, he positioned himself around the woman, shielding her from the weapons with his own body and outstretched limbs. The sword aiming to remove her hand instead took Samson's left arm off at elbow; the one intended for her back removed his right hand; and the final one that had been originally aimed at Samson met its mark, piercing him through his chest. Despite the fatal wounds he had just been administered, his smile never faltered, and he didn't even flinch. In fact upon closer inspection, one could see not a single one of his wounds had even bled - not a single drop had escaped his body in any place.

The guards paused, unsure what was happening. That momentary lapse in concentration was exactly what Samson was hoping for. His smile broadened, and he twisted around to face the guard behind him. This action tore a hole through the centre of his torso, a hole which once again caused him no discomfort. By the time he was facing the man who had attacked him, the entire top segment of Samson's body was separated from the lower half. This upper section then slowly, carefully, floated up into the air above the group. The eyes of every soldier were affixed upon him, and Samson started to laugh. His hands, still lay on the floor, began levitating as well, and steadily rose up and reattached themselves to their places on the end of Samson's arms.

Continuing to laugh at the looks of fear and bewilderment on the faces of the guards, Samson lowered himself back towards his own legs, and became a whole human once more. Calming himself, he took one look at all the guards, and simply said, "Well? Are you still going to try and fight?"

"D-do you think your magic scares us, you devil! Don't you know who you're protecting?" One of the guards moved forward to attack once more, this time coating his sword with his will. He thrusted it forward with all his might. If he couldn't slash through him, perhaps he could stab Samson. His longsword pierced through the air but as it travelled towards Samson...

*Clink*

The sword clashed against something. It wasn't quite skin, nor was it something physical. No, as the man nearly lost his grip on his sword, his arms flailing in a roundabout manner, he noticed it. A small wall of blue. Was it...energy? It resembled a pane of glass, his eyes squinted, and when he looked again, the small wall was gone.

"What kind of magic is tha-" the man suddenly lost his breath as something met his stomach. He looked down, noticing the golden hilt that dug into his gut, it caused him to be sent flying backwards a few meters. The other guards noticed the event, and they too, begun to attack.

Arc continued to move, St. Catherine's golden hilt moving alongside her movement. She danced around the attack of some of the guards, and though it seemed she was outmatched, whenever one of her weak spots was exposed, it appeared as if a being from another world protected her as the guard's swords simply bounced off of the air.

"Get her!" All 10 of the guards attacked her at once. Their swords attacking her limbs, her head, every part of her body that would pain or disable her and prevent her from continuing fighting. Arc didn't seem concerned, her eyes closed, and her grasp on her sword weakened. Had she given up?

The swords approached, inch by inch, centimeter by centimeter, approaching Arc's flesh but then...

"Counter."

As the swords would meet Arc's flesh, a spherical barrier emerged, surrounding Arc's figure for a brief second, almost as if the barrier "blinked" around her. The energy of the knights' attacks was returned almost instantly to them, releasing a wave of pressure that blasted the majority of them away from their person.

Not surprised in the slightest, Arc turned to face Samson, as she sheathed her blade. "Are you a Devil Fruit eater sir?!"

"Absolutely correct. I'm assuming you are as well, with a power like that?" At those words, Samson made a hand gesture that resembled a shield. While he had been talking to Arc, one of the guards had climbed back to his feet behind her. Samson smiled, then threw a punch aimed past Arc's head. At the end of his arm's extension, his fist separated from his wrist. The detached limb soared over Arc's shoulder and collided with the guards nose, knocking him to the floor. Samson's hand then swiftly returned to its place on the end of his arm.

Hearing movement behind him, Samson turned and saw another guards were charging him. The man swung his sword, although this time it was enhanced with Haki. Before the blade reached him, Samson separated at his ankles. Almost the entirety of his body soared into the air above the guards, causing the blackened weapon to slash through thin air. The strength of the attack caused the guard to begin to fall, but he never made it to the floor. Samson bobbed down and firmly grabbed the guard around each of his biceps, before lifting both himself and his attacker into the air. Once the two of them were several metres up, Samson then casually threw the guard in his hands at another who dared to attempt returning to the fray.

"Very impressive, you could tell. What is your name?" Arc asked, looking back occasionally as to confirm there were no more guards.

"Aha, my bad. My name is Alcyone Samson, and you are?" Samson replied.

"Hm?" Arc's head tilted lightly to the side, her index finger tapping her chin in confusion. "You were just looking at me, I believe." Arc pointed to the poster Samson was looking at earlier. "I am Jeanne D. Arc, a Knight of Prodence Kingdom! And now...a filthy Pirate, as you can see by my bounty."

At those words, a sense of realization washed over Samson. "That answers my next question!" He chuckled, "In any case, why have you been granted such a bounty? Whatever could you have done?" A knight was one of the highest military powers in Prodence, and this fall from grace could not have been easy to achieve, after all.

"Hm? You don't know?" Arc appeared somewhat confused at first, her index finger tapping her chin, though soon enough her gaze that once met Samson's dropped to the floor, almost as if she was ashamed. "I-I'd rather not say, Sir Alcyone."

"I'm not from around here, and I don't owe these people anything. What you did doesn't particularly matter to me, it would not make me think less of you in the slightest," Samson looked at the woman who stood in front of him, and noticed the sharp angles in her face and neck that betrayed a lack of proper food. A thought occurred to him

"Getting a meal must be quite hard for you at the minute, right? You can't go buy anything, since you'll get reported to the guards, and I imagine your honour as a knight prevents you from stealing what you need to survive." Samson broke out into a wide grin, and stuck his hand out to offer a handshake to Arc. "So what do you say to me sticking with you for a while? I can get us what we need to get by, until you figure out a way to either clear your name or move on with your life despite the situation you're in."

"Hmm" Arc stuck a pensive pose. "Do not get me wrong, Sir Alcyone, you have given me a good first impression thus far, but I am no ignorant. I know the people from these parts do not exactly follow their words...So my question for you is, why are you doing this?"

Samson ruffled his hair, and chuckled awkwardly. "I am not from around here in the slightest, to be entirely truthful. I was at a... boarding school - of sorts - and now I'm here. I'm thinking if I help you out with what you need, maybe you can help me figure out where I came from originally?"

"Alright, good sir!" and with that they headed to the nearest bar.

## Code of Honor

The atmosphere was lively in one of Exoma's bar. Men, far and wide drunk again and again, dancing, burping and eating near each other. Some even joining in song. There was no exact reason that meritted this behavior, it seemed it was just the way it worked.

"S-so..."

Arc said awkawrdly as she looked at her sides.