princessWill the dragons be smart cognitive individuals with personality etc. How will they communicate, telepathically or verbally? Also, will they have magic breath attack?
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Dragonier (Medieval Fantasy, Dragon Riders, Magic, War)
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3 yrs ago
Forum: General Interest Checks
Sorry sorry, I have not forgotten to post. I just have been busy and not been in the right mind set to reply appropriately. I will try to craft something up soon but I want to make sure that its worth the wait lol.
Also, I dont know if you saw but The Merlin posted up a new RP. Its about Dragon riders and stuff.
Also, I dont know if you saw but The Merlin posted up a new RP. Its about Dragon riders and stuff.
In
Dragonier (Medieval Fantasy, Dragon Riders, Magic, War)
→
3 yrs ago
Forum: General Interest Checks
@TheMerlin would you have a place for me?
So basically the player would be world building with you? Also, at rebirth will they be teen agers, Babies, full adults? What kinda base world did you have in mind? Most Isekai I believe are based on a Fantasy medieval setting.
Arn’s eyes were trained on his current adversary. He had managed, through many different trial and error moves and plenty of painful reminders on what not to do, to defeat one mannequin. Many places in his body throbbed and ached from the hits received. His armor had served him well. Thousands of years in engineering and a war like culture that demanded the best protection possible enabled him to keep his limbs. Pain meant you were still alive.
Even if the weapons would not have been blunt, the scales in his armor were designed to absorb the slash or the stab by compressing into a solid sheet and the padding underneath with a small layer of strong hide minimized the damage even more. Hence, most dwarves used maces, hammers, or powerful armor piercing projectiles fired from crossbows or Scorpios to overcome these defenses. Mobility was not compromised and a dwarf’s inherent strength allowed for easy movements. This still did not fully take away the damage that blunt weapons could cause. Broken bones were common battlefield injuries between dwarven clan's fights.
Another reason he was learning his lesson’s so painfully was because all dwarves are trained from a very young age to fight as a unit. The strength that comes from having a person to your left and to your right trained like you and almost the same skill level as you is reassuring. It is not difficult to know why they call themselves shield brothers or sisters. Breaking through a shield formation of veteran dwarves is like trying to carve a mountain with a spoon.
Dwarves were bred for fighting. They have processes and procedures that are literally beaten into their psyche. Even if a dwarf was blinded, they would still be able to fight in the shield line thanks to cadences and war songs that synchronized each strike, each block. A true proud warrior culture. They have a saying “my family is my strength”.
Each warrior is tasked with being the strongest they can be, not so they can fight alone, but so that they are not the weakest link. So for Arn, fighting in the open with no back up, no shield brethren, and against a faster opponent, stretches the limit of his skill.
Add that to the fact that combat doctors are kept in the middle lines to provide support and quick combat care, and you have a dwarf who is cautiously watching the movements the mannequin armed with a sword and a dagger. An experienced fighter such as the lovely Drown lady would have made mince meet of him, armor or not, in a matter of seconds.
As the two opponents circled each other, the young cadet’s eyes fell on his roommate and the young man who had been pushed down by the bully. They seemed to be talking very comfortably. Did they know each other? Maybe, they were together? The distraction was enough that he lost momentary sight of the dummy. It was almost too late when he brought up his shield to protect from a downward cut that would have sliced his shield shoulder at the neck. His block was exactly what the mannequin wanted. The dagger tried finding the exposed underarm. Thanks to the painful lesson’s he had been learning, Arn was fast enough to use the shaft of his hammer to push the deadly blade just enough that it missed and made the dummy follow the momentum
However, this was also expected by the dummy and using the momentum, delivered a round house kick to the young cleric’s head. The heel connected solidly with the back of the head with enough force to make the helmet fly clean off. The force of the impact sent the young dwarf falling forward into the arena’s sand with a very audible huff.
Rage and shame rushed through the cadet. He had been defeated because he had lost concentration over his roommate’s interaction with another boy. What did he care? It was not like they even spoke really. So what if she was talking to other people. Why did it make him feel so strange? All these questions and no answer fueled the sudden rush of adrenalin that surged through him.
He quickly got into a kneeling position and regarded his opponent. The glowing eyes and expressionless face made him feel even more enraged. The young dwarf was sure the dummy was judging and laughing at him.
With a growl, the cadet lunged forward utilizing the shield to bash. The nimble opponent easily dodged to the dwarf’s left trying to take advantage of the exposed flank. However, this was predicted and the dwarf followed through with a back hand strike powered by the head of his war hammer. Again the move was easily dodged by the mannequin who ducked beneath blow. This time however, Arn was nimble himself and maintaining the spin momentum, he flattened his shield and used it as an edged weapon against the dummy aiming just below the knees.
Unable to doge quickly enough, the shield connected with an audible crack as both shin’s of the mannequin broke. Using brute force and the power of his torso and abs, Arn stopped the spinning motion, hefted the hammer above his head allowing the shaft to slide through his hand to the very end and then with a grunt, he brought the hammer down one handed on the back of the dummy’s head.
The head exploded into a thousand wooden splinters. Arn’s breath came in gasps. He turned to see another mannequin approaching but he must much too unstable to continue. The young cadet held up a hand and stated breathlessly. “I request quarter…” The emotionless dummy simply stopped. “Break has been requested. Please inform me when you are ready to continue.” With that it lowered the two headed battle axe it was holding and stayed perfectly still.
The dwarf grunted as he stood up and looked around. He had forgotten to bring a canteen or water skin. Would the school provide liquid relief?
Even if the weapons would not have been blunt, the scales in his armor were designed to absorb the slash or the stab by compressing into a solid sheet and the padding underneath with a small layer of strong hide minimized the damage even more. Hence, most dwarves used maces, hammers, or powerful armor piercing projectiles fired from crossbows or Scorpios to overcome these defenses. Mobility was not compromised and a dwarf’s inherent strength allowed for easy movements. This still did not fully take away the damage that blunt weapons could cause. Broken bones were common battlefield injuries between dwarven clan's fights.
Another reason he was learning his lesson’s so painfully was because all dwarves are trained from a very young age to fight as a unit. The strength that comes from having a person to your left and to your right trained like you and almost the same skill level as you is reassuring. It is not difficult to know why they call themselves shield brothers or sisters. Breaking through a shield formation of veteran dwarves is like trying to carve a mountain with a spoon.
Dwarves were bred for fighting. They have processes and procedures that are literally beaten into their psyche. Even if a dwarf was blinded, they would still be able to fight in the shield line thanks to cadences and war songs that synchronized each strike, each block. A true proud warrior culture. They have a saying “my family is my strength”.
Each warrior is tasked with being the strongest they can be, not so they can fight alone, but so that they are not the weakest link. So for Arn, fighting in the open with no back up, no shield brethren, and against a faster opponent, stretches the limit of his skill.
Add that to the fact that combat doctors are kept in the middle lines to provide support and quick combat care, and you have a dwarf who is cautiously watching the movements the mannequin armed with a sword and a dagger. An experienced fighter such as the lovely Drown lady would have made mince meet of him, armor or not, in a matter of seconds.
As the two opponents circled each other, the young cadet’s eyes fell on his roommate and the young man who had been pushed down by the bully. They seemed to be talking very comfortably. Did they know each other? Maybe, they were together? The distraction was enough that he lost momentary sight of the dummy. It was almost too late when he brought up his shield to protect from a downward cut that would have sliced his shield shoulder at the neck. His block was exactly what the mannequin wanted. The dagger tried finding the exposed underarm. Thanks to the painful lesson’s he had been learning, Arn was fast enough to use the shaft of his hammer to push the deadly blade just enough that it missed and made the dummy follow the momentum
However, this was also expected by the dummy and using the momentum, delivered a round house kick to the young cleric’s head. The heel connected solidly with the back of the head with enough force to make the helmet fly clean off. The force of the impact sent the young dwarf falling forward into the arena’s sand with a very audible huff.
Rage and shame rushed through the cadet. He had been defeated because he had lost concentration over his roommate’s interaction with another boy. What did he care? It was not like they even spoke really. So what if she was talking to other people. Why did it make him feel so strange? All these questions and no answer fueled the sudden rush of adrenalin that surged through him.
He quickly got into a kneeling position and regarded his opponent. The glowing eyes and expressionless face made him feel even more enraged. The young dwarf was sure the dummy was judging and laughing at him.
With a growl, the cadet lunged forward utilizing the shield to bash. The nimble opponent easily dodged to the dwarf’s left trying to take advantage of the exposed flank. However, this was predicted and the dwarf followed through with a back hand strike powered by the head of his war hammer. Again the move was easily dodged by the mannequin who ducked beneath blow. This time however, Arn was nimble himself and maintaining the spin momentum, he flattened his shield and used it as an edged weapon against the dummy aiming just below the knees.
Unable to doge quickly enough, the shield connected with an audible crack as both shin’s of the mannequin broke. Using brute force and the power of his torso and abs, Arn stopped the spinning motion, hefted the hammer above his head allowing the shaft to slide through his hand to the very end and then with a grunt, he brought the hammer down one handed on the back of the dummy’s head.
The head exploded into a thousand wooden splinters. Arn’s breath came in gasps. He turned to see another mannequin approaching but he must much too unstable to continue. The young cadet held up a hand and stated breathlessly. “I request quarter…” The emotionless dummy simply stopped. “Break has been requested. Please inform me when you are ready to continue.” With that it lowered the two headed battle axe it was holding and stayed perfectly still.
The dwarf grunted as he stood up and looked around. He had forgotten to bring a canteen or water skin. Would the school provide liquid relief?
Arn held the lovingly worn book in his hands. He could tell by the usage that Uilles had been truthful regarding spending countless hours looking at its contents. The mage looked at the leather but did not dare to open it. He knew or felt that once the journal was o pened that it would start a new chapter in their lives that would not be easily closed.
His steps took him through the house. He was so lost in thought that he did not question how his body just headed in the direction that Eilis was. Almost as if he was following the proverbial string out of the maze. Ironically, the master mage was actually pondering the value that Eilis possed to the ones trying to retriever her.
She had revealed she was a force mage. The same attribute that the infamous Sorceror King had possessed. As far as he knew, the similarities ended there. However, perhaps this journey, cursed as it may be, would reveal more. It was dangerous thing digging for information. One could very well be entombed in the hole.
Still, it made his logical and studious mind wonder. Could his immediate connection and pull towards her have anything to do with her attribute? His heart saddened a little at this theory. Perhaps it had been her strong connection to the Weave that had so readily connected them. Perhaps there was nothing truly special about Arn other than his own strong connection to the Weave due to his magical ability and aptitude. Or was there?
There is a romantic and spiritual notion about soul mates. Could it be possible that the dark being interwoven with Eilis’s thread exploited the probability of Threads intertwining? What would happen to the first if a second threat was trying to weave itself together?
Then another thought crossed his mind. Was his need to be close to Eilis also driven by this theory he was formulating? This could explain why the dark sisters wanted her back. Perhaps, the connection would weaken the longer those woven together were apart. The dark haired witch had revealed that her master used the life force of those they had woven with. Perhaps being apart would weaken his hold on her.
The mage gritted his teeth. If this was the case then why not just take his protegee as far from Viem and Sensaridh as possible? But what if his gamble was wrong? Sometimes trying to avoid danger would often put you in more dangerous situations. He sighed exasperated. There needed to be a concrete plan he could present to Eilis. After all, he was asking her to return to the place that had damaged her so. Not only her but her family. Indeed, if she was captured again, it could be possible that countless other lives would be at stake.
Uilles’s warning played in his head. It had been two people already who had asked him to end her life. He was not a fool. His logical mind knew how dangerous returning such an asset to the enemy would be. However, he was not an idiot in thinking that ending her life was the only way. His eyes steeled and even an air of frosty conviction encircled him. No, the other option was to end any other life who would use her. A weapon is harmless if you cut off the hand which would use it.
He entered the gardens just as the first cannon boom was heard. He looked at Eilis and Tyrhallan. The scene gave off the appearance of two nobles enjoying the garden. Arn knew that he could never offer her such a life. But if they were able to succeed in their impossible mission, what then? Despite Tyrhallan’s offer, the master mage would feel hard pressed to just live his life living off the Knight Captain. However, he knew that the lovely lass would need a life that would make up for all the harshness she had felt. He sighed. He would cross the bridge when he came to it.
Arn walked up to the pair. He nodded his greeting to their benefactor and then turned to Eilis. “I want to put your mind at ease. Uilles did not discuss anything secretive that I would not be able to discuss with you. He offered me this book which should help us navigate. But first thing is first. As I told you. Nobody, not even I, will force you to do something you do not wish. There are always options, some harder than others. One of those options is following the plan that Lord Venray suggested. Please know that whatever path you choose, I will always be there by your side. I will be your arrow and you will be my bow. All you need to do is point me in the direction you wish and I shall carve a path for you.” He smiled at her. There was tenderness in that smile. Encouragement too but in the mix, there was a bit of fear. He was uncertain of the future but he would face it with her.
More booms could be heard. His face showed some irritation. "As fates would have it, there is not much time to deliberate."
His steps took him through the house. He was so lost in thought that he did not question how his body just headed in the direction that Eilis was. Almost as if he was following the proverbial string out of the maze. Ironically, the master mage was actually pondering the value that Eilis possed to the ones trying to retriever her.
She had revealed she was a force mage. The same attribute that the infamous Sorceror King had possessed. As far as he knew, the similarities ended there. However, perhaps this journey, cursed as it may be, would reveal more. It was dangerous thing digging for information. One could very well be entombed in the hole.
Still, it made his logical and studious mind wonder. Could his immediate connection and pull towards her have anything to do with her attribute? His heart saddened a little at this theory. Perhaps it had been her strong connection to the Weave that had so readily connected them. Perhaps there was nothing truly special about Arn other than his own strong connection to the Weave due to his magical ability and aptitude. Or was there?
There is a romantic and spiritual notion about soul mates. Could it be possible that the dark being interwoven with Eilis’s thread exploited the probability of Threads intertwining? What would happen to the first if a second threat was trying to weave itself together?
Then another thought crossed his mind. Was his need to be close to Eilis also driven by this theory he was formulating? This could explain why the dark sisters wanted her back. Perhaps, the connection would weaken the longer those woven together were apart. The dark haired witch had revealed that her master used the life force of those they had woven with. Perhaps being apart would weaken his hold on her.
The mage gritted his teeth. If this was the case then why not just take his protegee as far from Viem and Sensaridh as possible? But what if his gamble was wrong? Sometimes trying to avoid danger would often put you in more dangerous situations. He sighed exasperated. There needed to be a concrete plan he could present to Eilis. After all, he was asking her to return to the place that had damaged her so. Not only her but her family. Indeed, if she was captured again, it could be possible that countless other lives would be at stake.
Uilles’s warning played in his head. It had been two people already who had asked him to end her life. He was not a fool. His logical mind knew how dangerous returning such an asset to the enemy would be. However, he was not an idiot in thinking that ending her life was the only way. His eyes steeled and even an air of frosty conviction encircled him. No, the other option was to end any other life who would use her. A weapon is harmless if you cut off the hand which would use it.
He entered the gardens just as the first cannon boom was heard. He looked at Eilis and Tyrhallan. The scene gave off the appearance of two nobles enjoying the garden. Arn knew that he could never offer her such a life. But if they were able to succeed in their impossible mission, what then? Despite Tyrhallan’s offer, the master mage would feel hard pressed to just live his life living off the Knight Captain. However, he knew that the lovely lass would need a life that would make up for all the harshness she had felt. He sighed. He would cross the bridge when he came to it.
Arn walked up to the pair. He nodded his greeting to their benefactor and then turned to Eilis. “I want to put your mind at ease. Uilles did not discuss anything secretive that I would not be able to discuss with you. He offered me this book which should help us navigate. But first thing is first. As I told you. Nobody, not even I, will force you to do something you do not wish. There are always options, some harder than others. One of those options is following the plan that Lord Venray suggested. Please know that whatever path you choose, I will always be there by your side. I will be your arrow and you will be my bow. All you need to do is point me in the direction you wish and I shall carve a path for you.” He smiled at her. There was tenderness in that smile. Encouragement too but in the mix, there was a bit of fear. He was uncertain of the future but he would face it with her.
More booms could be heard. His face showed some irritation. "As fates would have it, there is not much time to deliberate."
<Snipped quote by vancexentan>
I'm cool with whatever. She could come and help in the fight against Rayla if you want that :D
You could get some info out of Marcino...on how to beat his girl friend.....JS lol
Arn’s face was relaxed as he listened to the plan laid out by the ex Knight. There was truth and logic in the course of action that was suggested. There would be definitely be answers to the questions. They may not be hard to find but history and heritage are not so easily erased in a few hundred years. People tend to hold on to what makes them unique. Culture is something that can’t truly be removed from the hearts and minds of people. Indeed, empires do best when they harness and incorporate such differences instead of trying to rip them from those conquered. There will always be secret part that cannot be truly quelled.
The challenge would be more in getting these secrets to be told rather than finding the secret holder. Arn was sure that any who held such knowledge would guard it zealously. He hoped that disclosing he lineage and the suffering that Eilis had to endure, would win some favor and support of any remaining Rhevendahli.
The master mage relayed his own assurances via a comforting squeeze on Eilis’s tender shoulders. Uilles made too much damn sense and was much too prepared for this plan. Almost as if he had years to plan rather than hours. While the mage hated to be bound by something like destiny or fate, it was hard for him to logically explain how his meeting with Captain Venray, Eilis and now the famous Uilles could be otherwise explained. One thing about fate however, is that it pushed you towards your prescribed end regardless of how you felt and there was nothing you could do to stop it.
Arn almost smiled at the request/command. The man before him had lost none of his authority and gravitas. He pitied the man who would assume that the cane in his hand made Uilles defenseless. Still, even if it had not been a disguised command, the mage knew Tyrhallan would have still obeyed and aquiesed his uncle’s request. The trust that the nephew had for the ex Knight in itself fostered trust and respect from those who knew Tyrhallan.
The master mage helped Eilis stand and willingly held her hand in reassurance and in a small part not wanting to be separated from her. He knew however, that there was a reason for the private audience and more or less could guess that it had to do with a warning or two regarding Eilis and her powers. He finally let go of her hand as he passed her on to the Knight Captain and he nodded his thanks to the silver haired man.
He owed much to the man and he would not be able to pay him back in a hundred lifetimes. The pair departed and Arn looked at the closed door a for a couple of seconds. He felt the need to prevent any further harm to come to them. He knew that Tyrhallan would fault him for thinking this way but the master mage could not help but want to atone for the injuries the man had sustained due to his lack of power.
His eyes returned to the elder Venray. In them was nothings sort of steely commitment. Arn approached the man with measured steps filled with purpose. It almost felt like going out on missions with his orders being delivered. Evander had hated that a low ranking member of the Shootings stars also be present for briefings. However, the squad members were glad because it meant that the orders would be carried out by someone who actually knew how to command.
As he took the book that was offered to him, Arn could feel the ex Captain study him. Only a fool or a blind man would miss how much attention and protection the mage gave the refugee girl. It seemed that Uilles had not desire to keep his thoughts and evaluation to himself and presented his misgivings to the Master Mage.
On the other hand, there was nothing that Arn intended to hide either. He nodded his acknowledgement of the warning and concern and provided his own response. “You are indeed correct in your assessment Lord Venray. Eilis has come to be a very important part of me. Your knowledge of a mage’s ability to Mind Meld is commendable. We have indeed experienced a mind meld and there are times when I am unsure if the feelings that course through me are mine or an echo of hers. I have committed myself to analyzing these feelings versus repressing them. For I believe that my connection to Lady Eilis would be a better guide and gauge of the situation that if I just dismissed or distrusted them. However, your warning is understood and appreciated. Please be assured that even if you are correct in your discerning that I would gladly lay down my life for hers, it will not be done recklessly. After all, my aim is to free her. At the same time, I am also aware of the potential benefit and damage she poses as a military asset. Let me dispel the notion that I will ever allow her to be used in such a manner. My aim is for her to be free of the bindings and be free of the control of whatever being that desires her power.”
Arn’s face did not change, nor his anger rose at the mention of the need to kill Eilis. This was an ever present thought in his mind. The struggle was always constant. Not because he could not bring himself to do it but because he did not know if he would know when the moment was right.
The master mage’s eyes opened slightly at the sudden charge of the elder man. His face was slightly confused but soon the other man’s words explained the sentiment. Arn’s face remained calm but his eyes softened and projected understanding. As the ex knight moved away, the mage explained in a professional but firm voice.
“You are right to deliver such warnings and concerns. Allow me to dispel any erroneous notion. My loyalty has never been to Belisio. I was not given a choice when I was drafted. I have no heritage of military service. Indeed, I have no stake in the survival or defeat of the kingdom. However, my loyalties lie with my squad mates, Captain Venray, Lady Eilis, and also to your family.” He took a deep breath and continued. “That being said, no, I would not sacrifice lives for my own selfish desires. My need of her does not trump the lives of others. If at any point myself or Eilis, the Eilis I know, is lost then my life will be the only one that shall be wagered and expended.”
He moved closer and his voice had an fraternal tone to it. “You are an honorable man, Lord Venray. Such quality reverberates through the entire family. I vow upon what little weight my word has that I will do all in my power to ensure the trust Captain Tyrhalllan, Eilis and yourself have placed upon me will not be in vain. I will see this through.”
Arn bowed to Uilles with great deference. “If you would excuse me Lord Venray. I believe there is much to prepare for the road ahead.” He turned around smartly and made his way to the door. His steps were strong and confident. He had searched for meaning his entire life. He had thrown himself into battles head long. Only in the proximity of death had he felt a small semblance of life. However, this was different. His entire life had led to this moment. He would see this mission through. He would see Eilis free and the Venray’s trust in him fulfilled.
The master mage left the room with the pensive ex knight at the window and made his way to the gardens. His resolve firm as he knew that he would have to reassure his lovely protégé that what needed to be done was necessary. She would trust him of course and he would repay that trust. His hand tightened on the lovingly worn diary in his hands. He would see this through or would die a thousand deaths trying.
The challenge would be more in getting these secrets to be told rather than finding the secret holder. Arn was sure that any who held such knowledge would guard it zealously. He hoped that disclosing he lineage and the suffering that Eilis had to endure, would win some favor and support of any remaining Rhevendahli.
The master mage relayed his own assurances via a comforting squeeze on Eilis’s tender shoulders. Uilles made too much damn sense and was much too prepared for this plan. Almost as if he had years to plan rather than hours. While the mage hated to be bound by something like destiny or fate, it was hard for him to logically explain how his meeting with Captain Venray, Eilis and now the famous Uilles could be otherwise explained. One thing about fate however, is that it pushed you towards your prescribed end regardless of how you felt and there was nothing you could do to stop it.
Arn almost smiled at the request/command. The man before him had lost none of his authority and gravitas. He pitied the man who would assume that the cane in his hand made Uilles defenseless. Still, even if it had not been a disguised command, the mage knew Tyrhallan would have still obeyed and aquiesed his uncle’s request. The trust that the nephew had for the ex Knight in itself fostered trust and respect from those who knew Tyrhallan.
The master mage helped Eilis stand and willingly held her hand in reassurance and in a small part not wanting to be separated from her. He knew however, that there was a reason for the private audience and more or less could guess that it had to do with a warning or two regarding Eilis and her powers. He finally let go of her hand as he passed her on to the Knight Captain and he nodded his thanks to the silver haired man.
He owed much to the man and he would not be able to pay him back in a hundred lifetimes. The pair departed and Arn looked at the closed door a for a couple of seconds. He felt the need to prevent any further harm to come to them. He knew that Tyrhallan would fault him for thinking this way but the master mage could not help but want to atone for the injuries the man had sustained due to his lack of power.
His eyes returned to the elder Venray. In them was nothings sort of steely commitment. Arn approached the man with measured steps filled with purpose. It almost felt like going out on missions with his orders being delivered. Evander had hated that a low ranking member of the Shootings stars also be present for briefings. However, the squad members were glad because it meant that the orders would be carried out by someone who actually knew how to command.
As he took the book that was offered to him, Arn could feel the ex Captain study him. Only a fool or a blind man would miss how much attention and protection the mage gave the refugee girl. It seemed that Uilles had not desire to keep his thoughts and evaluation to himself and presented his misgivings to the Master Mage.
On the other hand, there was nothing that Arn intended to hide either. He nodded his acknowledgement of the warning and concern and provided his own response. “You are indeed correct in your assessment Lord Venray. Eilis has come to be a very important part of me. Your knowledge of a mage’s ability to Mind Meld is commendable. We have indeed experienced a mind meld and there are times when I am unsure if the feelings that course through me are mine or an echo of hers. I have committed myself to analyzing these feelings versus repressing them. For I believe that my connection to Lady Eilis would be a better guide and gauge of the situation that if I just dismissed or distrusted them. However, your warning is understood and appreciated. Please be assured that even if you are correct in your discerning that I would gladly lay down my life for hers, it will not be done recklessly. After all, my aim is to free her. At the same time, I am also aware of the potential benefit and damage she poses as a military asset. Let me dispel the notion that I will ever allow her to be used in such a manner. My aim is for her to be free of the bindings and be free of the control of whatever being that desires her power.”
Arn’s face did not change, nor his anger rose at the mention of the need to kill Eilis. This was an ever present thought in his mind. The struggle was always constant. Not because he could not bring himself to do it but because he did not know if he would know when the moment was right.
The master mage’s eyes opened slightly at the sudden charge of the elder man. His face was slightly confused but soon the other man’s words explained the sentiment. Arn’s face remained calm but his eyes softened and projected understanding. As the ex knight moved away, the mage explained in a professional but firm voice.
“You are right to deliver such warnings and concerns. Allow me to dispel any erroneous notion. My loyalty has never been to Belisio. I was not given a choice when I was drafted. I have no heritage of military service. Indeed, I have no stake in the survival or defeat of the kingdom. However, my loyalties lie with my squad mates, Captain Venray, Lady Eilis, and also to your family.” He took a deep breath and continued. “That being said, no, I would not sacrifice lives for my own selfish desires. My need of her does not trump the lives of others. If at any point myself or Eilis, the Eilis I know, is lost then my life will be the only one that shall be wagered and expended.”
He moved closer and his voice had an fraternal tone to it. “You are an honorable man, Lord Venray. Such quality reverberates through the entire family. I vow upon what little weight my word has that I will do all in my power to ensure the trust Captain Tyrhalllan, Eilis and yourself have placed upon me will not be in vain. I will see this through.”
Arn bowed to Uilles with great deference. “If you would excuse me Lord Venray. I believe there is much to prepare for the road ahead.” He turned around smartly and made his way to the door. His steps were strong and confident. He had searched for meaning his entire life. He had thrown himself into battles head long. Only in the proximity of death had he felt a small semblance of life. However, this was different. His entire life had led to this moment. He would see this mission through. He would see Eilis free and the Venray’s trust in him fulfilled.
The master mage left the room with the pensive ex knight at the window and made his way to the gardens. His resolve firm as he knew that he would have to reassure his lovely protégé that what needed to be done was necessary. She would trust him of course and he would repay that trust. His hand tightened on the lovingly worn diary in his hands. He would see this through or would die a thousand deaths trying.
The Shield Hero stood there a few steps to the left of Cole. He could feel the pressure in the room and could feel the acidity in the words or challenge coming from Rayla. The woman sure had a personality. He wondered why a woman like that had taken to being a bandit. While he assumed that life in the Colosseum was not a rainbows and roses, what had driven her to preying on innocent. Rough as he was, Marcino still seemed to have a sort of morals. As she spoke of the king, a thought formed in Fer’s mind. Was there a hidden story between this bandit chief and the king? After all, it was still a weird matter that they had sent the Four Heroes (or two at least) to track down a common bandit shortage of soldiers or not. Did the king need her silenced? The young hero groaned inwardly. He hated politics.
Apparently, the bandit chief’s words triggered Cole as the young man send forth the devastating attack he knew. It could also be that his fellow hero wanted to end things quickly. That hope was quickly dashed as the Rayla effortlessly countered an attack that would have felled others. Fer grimaced his discontent, yes this definitely would not be an easy fight.
Even Fer was caught by surprise when his companion rushed forward. Perhaps the strain of so much death and the long list of crimes as Cole had stated, had weighed on his fellow hero’s heart. The shield cursed under his breath as he saw the two blades meet and it was easy to see that Rayla had the upper hand. It was times like this that he hated the fact that he was basically useless in a fight other than support. Cole was doing his best but the truth of the matter was that even both of them combined would be hard pressed to beat the woman.
Despite this, there was no other option but to fight. Fer launched himself forward too. He moves over to her unprotected side as she is trying to fend off Cole and using the edge of his shield, he swipes at her knees trying to knock her off her feet. At the same time he gathers as handful of dirt with the aim to throw it at her face given the opportunity.
At the very least, he could provide a secondary target that would draw the attention of the bandit chief allowing Cole to capitalize on the harassment provided by Fer. The plan was way too simple but pending any sort of support from either Marcino or Auriel, the pair had a hard fight in their hands.
Apparently, the bandit chief’s words triggered Cole as the young man send forth the devastating attack he knew. It could also be that his fellow hero wanted to end things quickly. That hope was quickly dashed as the Rayla effortlessly countered an attack that would have felled others. Fer grimaced his discontent, yes this definitely would not be an easy fight.
Even Fer was caught by surprise when his companion rushed forward. Perhaps the strain of so much death and the long list of crimes as Cole had stated, had weighed on his fellow hero’s heart. The shield cursed under his breath as he saw the two blades meet and it was easy to see that Rayla had the upper hand. It was times like this that he hated the fact that he was basically useless in a fight other than support. Cole was doing his best but the truth of the matter was that even both of them combined would be hard pressed to beat the woman.
Despite this, there was no other option but to fight. Fer launched himself forward too. He moves over to her unprotected side as she is trying to fend off Cole and using the edge of his shield, he swipes at her knees trying to knock her off her feet. At the same time he gathers as handful of dirt with the aim to throw it at her face given the opportunity.
At the very least, he could provide a secondary target that would draw the attention of the bandit chief allowing Cole to capitalize on the harassment provided by Fer. The plan was way too simple but pending any sort of support from either Marcino or Auriel, the pair had a hard fight in their hands.
His lungs began to burn with the strain of supplying oxygen to his body. Each rhythmic breath fueling the fire and dryness of his throat. His legs began to feel heavy and not only because of the armor. Each step making the dwarf feel as if his legs would buckle. The sand of the arena did not help as it challenged him in keeping his balance on the randomly shifting ground. His shoulders and his neck began to ache from the weight and movement of the armor he wore. No amount of practical design and centuries of trial and error would completely do away with the strain of wearing protection. By all means many would consider the evolution cruel and unusual punishment….HE LOVED IT!.
This he knew. This he understood. Years upon years at the mercy of a (probably deranged) strict drill sergeant doing seemingly pointless and demeaning tasks had prepared him for this day. The young cadet felt so at ease that despite the protest from his lungs, he even began to chant one of their cadence songs under his breath as his stubby legs kept beat.
“Under Mountain Halls
Deep in caverns Below
When the hammers falls
When the war drum’s roll
All true dwarven bred
Shall listen to the call
So march, March
You lazy bastards
March
We’ve gone one mile
But there are more to go
So
A’ marchin we shall goooo
The ring of steel
The crash of shields
Will be the melody
Our iron will
On glory fields
Shall be our victory
So march, March
You lazy bastards
March
We’ve gone one mile
But there’re more to go
So
A marchin we shall goo
When the fightin’s done
The mead and food shall flow
Well honor those who’ve gone
Their deeds all shall know
So raise a mug and gulp it down
Its time for another round
So MarchYou lazy bastards
March
We’ve gone one mile
But there are more to go
So
A’ marchin we shall goooo”
There were many more colorful and objectionable verses but the cleric in training decided perhaps that was best left for more appropriate company. His pace never changed. People passed him and others fell behind. He stayed consistent through the whole run. After all, his mentality was on that of survival. This was not merely a class to him, this was a reminder that in battle a flashy kill or a lucky kill is still a kill.
After seven laps, the impressive man in shining armor called for the group to stop. The young dwarf almost let out a chuckle as the instructor announced that was only a warm up. There were many grumbles and groans from many of the students. Arn shook his head secretly. No matter how he felt about it, he would never volunteer his feelings. His drill sergeant always used to say “Careful with your moanin…it makes the one who is fucking you that much more excited.”
Arn lumbered over to where the head of his maul had been left. The locked the javelin shaft in place and walked back just before the start of the demonstration. He was a bit disappointed when the demonstration was not given by Vermont. He wanted to see him in action as the dwarf felt he was the most closest to his fighting style.
However, eye catching as the Drow might bet, despite the clerics vehement self denial that he found Instructor Maya dangerously attractive, what mesmerized him more was the way she danced. This was not a fighting style, this was an art form. The ease of movement and the precise placement of every block, and strike. It was like watching Maya perform a deadly dance. The mannequin, one after the other, fell until there was only one.
For some reason, perhaps because the attacker sported almost the same weapon as he, Arn felt like it was he who now faced the deadly beauty. What shocked him the most was that the stance and the way the weapon was held matched very much his own fighting school techniques. A chill went down his spine. It was unreal watching the mannequin move as it was moves that the cadet himself would have attempted against a sword wielder.
Sweat ran down his face as he watched transfixed how easily the woman avoided strikes that were well thought of and efficient from the maul wielder. He swallowed secretly willing the maul to make contact with her lovely dark skin. More as a way of self-assurance that he, Arn, stood a chance. His hopes were dashed when the instructor flawlessly delivered a devastating kick. The very audible crack as the head got separated from the body made the young dwarf feel sick. Almost as if he had been the one whose head had flown off.
He was standing on the opposite side of Vermont and the dark armored Valencia as he watched the head flew in his direction. The young cleric was so transfixed he swore that the head looked like his own. It was not until the wooden head fell to the ground harmlessly that he was released from the spell.
Arn looked up with new admiration towards the dark elf. Her ever present smile even more powerful. Indeed, the dwarf more than pitied anyone or anything who ever made her change that beautiful smile adorning her face into a sad or angry semblance. Not only because her fury would be hotter than all the hells in existence but because he was sure the masked archer and Vermont would probably have a hand in it too.
“Right, who’s ready to start?”
The young dwarf gladly moved over to an unoccupied mannequin, this one had sword and shield. Arn performed a bit of stretching and loosening up prior to the confrontation. He released the mechanisms attaching his heather shield to his back and hefted the maul. The creepy glowing eyes of the mannequin regarding him emotionless.
“Student Arn Thurson, are you ready to commence assessment and beginner routine?” The voice seemed to be disembodied and monotone. How unnerving it would be to fight a whole army of these. Even undead groaned and shuffled along. The young cadet took a breath and nodded firmly replying . “Yes, I am ready please commence.”
The fighting dummy promptly complied as it launched itself forward sword swinging perfectly horizontal aiming at the maul side of Arn probably thinking that the big weapon would be too slow to parry the blow. At least it was right in that he dwarf would not parry the blow. One of the advantages of being short is that many fighters aimed based on their own height. Taking this into consideration, Arn merely crouched about a foot, raised his shield to slightly deflect the attacker’s sword and as he stood up, swung his own maul at the dummy’s leg just behind the knee. The grip on the maul would relax as Arn allowed the weight and momentum of the swing to slide the shaft forward in his hand in order to cover the gap between them.
Just as they were promised, the mannequin lifted its leg just in time to avoid the strike. However, Arn had expected this and pivoting on his maul hand leg he continued to spin as he came up to a standing position and then aimed the swinging head at the lower back of the automated fighting instrument. Caught with his leg up and off balance, the hammer connected just enough to send the dummy rolling forward. It did not cause much damage because as soon as the dummy felt the maul connect he had started the forward dive roll.
The contraption finished its move facing Arn in a sort of kneeling position with shield just below his eyes and the sword pointed at the dwarf to defend and counter any follow up attack. With an approving grunt and a smirk on his face, the young cleric acknowledged the fighting capability of the mannequin. Would it not be for the fact that the contraption was faceless with only two glowing eyes, the young dwarf would have sworn he was fighting a living being not one powered by mysterious magic. He took a deep breath and adjusting his grip he rushed forward one single though running through his head. “This is going to be more enjoyable than I thought.”
This he knew. This he understood. Years upon years at the mercy of a (probably deranged) strict drill sergeant doing seemingly pointless and demeaning tasks had prepared him for this day. The young cadet felt so at ease that despite the protest from his lungs, he even began to chant one of their cadence songs under his breath as his stubby legs kept beat.
“Under Mountain Halls
Deep in caverns Below
When the hammers falls
When the war drum’s roll
All true dwarven bred
Shall listen to the call
So march, March
You lazy bastards
March
We’ve gone one mile
But there are more to go
So
A’ marchin we shall goooo
The ring of steel
The crash of shields
Will be the melody
Our iron will
On glory fields
Shall be our victory
So march, March
You lazy bastards
March
We’ve gone one mile
But there’re more to go
So
A marchin we shall goo
When the fightin’s done
The mead and food shall flow
Well honor those who’ve gone
Their deeds all shall know
So raise a mug and gulp it down
Its time for another round
So MarchYou lazy bastards
March
We’ve gone one mile
But there are more to go
So
A’ marchin we shall goooo”
There were many more colorful and objectionable verses but the cleric in training decided perhaps that was best left for more appropriate company. His pace never changed. People passed him and others fell behind. He stayed consistent through the whole run. After all, his mentality was on that of survival. This was not merely a class to him, this was a reminder that in battle a flashy kill or a lucky kill is still a kill.
After seven laps, the impressive man in shining armor called for the group to stop. The young dwarf almost let out a chuckle as the instructor announced that was only a warm up. There were many grumbles and groans from many of the students. Arn shook his head secretly. No matter how he felt about it, he would never volunteer his feelings. His drill sergeant always used to say “Careful with your moanin…it makes the one who is fucking you that much more excited.”
Arn lumbered over to where the head of his maul had been left. The locked the javelin shaft in place and walked back just before the start of the demonstration. He was a bit disappointed when the demonstration was not given by Vermont. He wanted to see him in action as the dwarf felt he was the most closest to his fighting style.
However, eye catching as the Drow might bet, despite the clerics vehement self denial that he found Instructor Maya dangerously attractive, what mesmerized him more was the way she danced. This was not a fighting style, this was an art form. The ease of movement and the precise placement of every block, and strike. It was like watching Maya perform a deadly dance. The mannequin, one after the other, fell until there was only one.
For some reason, perhaps because the attacker sported almost the same weapon as he, Arn felt like it was he who now faced the deadly beauty. What shocked him the most was that the stance and the way the weapon was held matched very much his own fighting school techniques. A chill went down his spine. It was unreal watching the mannequin move as it was moves that the cadet himself would have attempted against a sword wielder.
Sweat ran down his face as he watched transfixed how easily the woman avoided strikes that were well thought of and efficient from the maul wielder. He swallowed secretly willing the maul to make contact with her lovely dark skin. More as a way of self-assurance that he, Arn, stood a chance. His hopes were dashed when the instructor flawlessly delivered a devastating kick. The very audible crack as the head got separated from the body made the young dwarf feel sick. Almost as if he had been the one whose head had flown off.
He was standing on the opposite side of Vermont and the dark armored Valencia as he watched the head flew in his direction. The young cleric was so transfixed he swore that the head looked like his own. It was not until the wooden head fell to the ground harmlessly that he was released from the spell.
Arn looked up with new admiration towards the dark elf. Her ever present smile even more powerful. Indeed, the dwarf more than pitied anyone or anything who ever made her change that beautiful smile adorning her face into a sad or angry semblance. Not only because her fury would be hotter than all the hells in existence but because he was sure the masked archer and Vermont would probably have a hand in it too.
“Right, who’s ready to start?”
The young dwarf gladly moved over to an unoccupied mannequin, this one had sword and shield. Arn performed a bit of stretching and loosening up prior to the confrontation. He released the mechanisms attaching his heather shield to his back and hefted the maul. The creepy glowing eyes of the mannequin regarding him emotionless.
“Student Arn Thurson, are you ready to commence assessment and beginner routine?” The voice seemed to be disembodied and monotone. How unnerving it would be to fight a whole army of these. Even undead groaned and shuffled along. The young cadet took a breath and nodded firmly replying . “Yes, I am ready please commence.”
The fighting dummy promptly complied as it launched itself forward sword swinging perfectly horizontal aiming at the maul side of Arn probably thinking that the big weapon would be too slow to parry the blow. At least it was right in that he dwarf would not parry the blow. One of the advantages of being short is that many fighters aimed based on their own height. Taking this into consideration, Arn merely crouched about a foot, raised his shield to slightly deflect the attacker’s sword and as he stood up, swung his own maul at the dummy’s leg just behind the knee. The grip on the maul would relax as Arn allowed the weight and momentum of the swing to slide the shaft forward in his hand in order to cover the gap between them.
Just as they were promised, the mannequin lifted its leg just in time to avoid the strike. However, Arn had expected this and pivoting on his maul hand leg he continued to spin as he came up to a standing position and then aimed the swinging head at the lower back of the automated fighting instrument. Caught with his leg up and off balance, the hammer connected just enough to send the dummy rolling forward. It did not cause much damage because as soon as the dummy felt the maul connect he had started the forward dive roll.
The contraption finished its move facing Arn in a sort of kneeling position with shield just below his eyes and the sword pointed at the dwarf to defend and counter any follow up attack. With an approving grunt and a smirk on his face, the young cleric acknowledged the fighting capability of the mannequin. Would it not be for the fact that the contraption was faceless with only two glowing eyes, the young dwarf would have sworn he was fighting a living being not one powered by mysterious magic. He took a deep breath and adjusting his grip he rushed forward one single though running through his head. “This is going to be more enjoyable than I thought.”
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