TIMESTAMP: Solace 1, Glade, 123
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Already a master of his primary Craft and two others, Æros approached his Reaving initiation with, perhaps, a bit more arrogance than he really should have. While he was correct to assume that the ætheric tax of the initiation would not be an issue in the long term, he had grossly underestimated the physicality of the process. His fitness wasn’t an issue, no, and really, neither was his ability to move and control his form. The problem, in actuality, had laid within the fact that the starlit senator is, and always has been, pampered nobility. He has never been a warrior, and though he did, ultimately, succeed in his trial and receive the rune of Reaving, his success had been precarious at best. He’d been so exhausted that he wasn’t able to get himself home on his own, but luckily, his initiation was done alongside a friend, and said friend had Traversion.
In the interim from then and now, he’d taken some time to recover and also to spar with both Hilana and the commander once again. His skills with a blade had honed considerably since the beginning of Frost, and now that Frost had waned into Glade, he felt himself reasonably competent in that regard. With Reaving itself, however, his general day-to-day had slowed the growth thereof. As a politician, it’s not as if he encountered a need for violence on the regular; most threats in that regard were far more clandestine in nature.
There was also the fact that, when next Æros finally found time to train, he wanted to do so in a way that was a bit of a different set-up than sparring with friends or mentors. And given the rather loose morals regarding life and death of slaves in Solunarium, one could easily accomplish this by acquiring fodder of a sort– within the slave trade, it was not hard to find individuals with combat skills. As a safeguard, and because it was far cheaper, he opted to acquire two men who were not mages. The point was for him to learn to harmonize with his sword, not flex his magic, and consequently, he didn’t want his opponents using magic, either– plus, if he were ever in actual, mortal danger, he’d easily be able to break a mundane man with his Mesmer. To some, this strategy might come across as markedly cruel; to Æros, this was an efficient method of honing his skills.
The courtyard behind House Saelyan’s Umbrium manse was, today, cleared aside from an altar that had been set up for the Founders; in killing the ‘fodder’ he’d acquired, their blood was also meant as a sacrifice to the Solunarian gods. To Æros, this gave their deaths proper purpose. The two men were told that if they managed to kill the senator, they’d gain their freedom; while technically this was true, the likelihood of that happening was slim to none; they were not informed of what magics he possessed as a last resort should things look at all grim for him. He wanted them desperate, to fight hard for their lives, not defeated, not hopeless.
Even further, observing the fight was Æros’ cousin, Palæmon. He’d also asked two of his siblings, but they were actually not too fond of bloodshed…which was odd, since most within Solunarium had a neutral to positive opinion thereof. Nonetheless, the moonborn was present such that if, somehow, Æros was unable to further defend himself, he would use his consummate mastery of Elementalism to quickly snuff out any remaining threat. Again, this was not made clear to those that were destined to die; the illusion of hope was maintained by the claim that Palæmon was there as a simple overseer, not allowed to interfere, but present to facilitate the fight.
The two men that Æros had acquired for this were large Vastians, specifically chosen as they matched Æros in size and because of the fact that they were known for their skills in combat prior to their arrest and subsequent enslavement. And prior to ending up here, they had been used as guards by their previous masters. He intended to fight them both at once to push his limits, and with his safeguards, this was far less of a risk to his life than it otherwise would be in a more…natural scenario.
With Æros and the two men standing about ten feet apart, Palæmon between them, the moonborn stepped back, and though silent for a moment, he finally gave the signal to begin.
Æros’ two opponents immediately split apart with the intent to flank him from either side. One was armed with daggers, the other with a mace which he wielded with both hands. Quick on his feet, the starlit dancer managed to backstep, turned on his heel and bounded left, ending up behind the man with the daggers. In this new position, Æros attempted to raise his weapon and strike, but his opponent was nearly as swift as he was, stepping forward enough for the strike to miss.
Whenever one misses, one is vulnerable, and the man with the mace took full advantage of this, vaulting forward and hitting the senator in the arm, resulting in him dropping his blade. In no position to pick it up with both of his opponents so close, he retreated, dodging the other’s blades and creating quite a bit of distance between himself and the others. However, the distance was not so great that he couldn’t make use of one of his newfound abilities.
With a somewhat painful burst of æther, Æros willed his blade off the ground, but his goal, in this moment, wasn’t specifically to reunite with it. The senator had positioned himself in such a way that the blade would have to pass through one of his opponents to return to him, and the man apparently was not paying enough attention– all of his focus was on pursuing Æros himself. A mistake, that. Lifted from the ground, the Reaver compelled his blade to egress, but in doing so, it impaled the man who’d struck him.
This motion was not smooth, though, and as a novice Reaver, Æros’ control over the blades movement was not quite precise. The blade had lodged itself in the man’s abdomen which was…quite messy and not immediately lethal. He screamed, and though he managed to pull the blade out with a frantic sort of haste, that actually only served to make things worse, make him bleed more. Æros’ kopesh clattered to the floor and, shortly thereafter, his injured opponent collapsed in a pool of his own blood beside it.
The remaining man was now aware that he had to watch both the fallen sword and the strange Fæ…but Æros was still unarmed, and he sought to find a way to capitalize on that before his opponent could will the blade back to him. As such, he’d managed to close a great amount of the distance between them in the span of time it had taken to mortally wound the first, and attempted to strike him again. Æros, acutely aware of this, leapt back and out of the way, though the dodge was narrow.
It took focus to wield his æther through a new rune, and though he could make this easier by making use of the Lunicite he wore, utilizing his Reaving was still a rather new sensation. And yet he would do so anyway, knowing that in this environment he was free to take risks. Splitting his focus between dodging the incoming onslaught of strikes and weaving æther to grab hold of his blade and pull it was precarious. In fact, so precarious, that just as the blade shot through the air towards him, Æros was struck with a downward blow to the chest; he heard his ribs crack and, focus disrupted, his blade clattered to the floor.
Weakened, in pain, yet stubborn, he tried to impel his blade to him once again. Another swing came and the nobleman dodged down and to the left, extending his wounded sword arm and opening the palm. His opponent missed the strike on his head and the hilt of his blade connected to his hand. As fast as he could managed, Æros rose, his blade cutting upwards as he stood, the side of which cleaving into the soft flesh just below his attacker’s ribs. Hit connected, the wounded Færie let go of the hilt and bounded away, wanting to created distance between himself and the man, wanting to avoid any risk of a counter strike.
Once a safe distance away and on the opposite side of the man as his sword, he used Return yet again to pull the blade deeper, ensuring the wound was lethal. His second opponent collapsed, a pool of crimson quickly blooming beneath him. Breathing heavy and hurting, Æros took a moment to recuperate before going over to collect it.
Palæmon stood with his arms crossed and rose a brow at his cousin. “I’m surprised you even let them hit you at all.”
Æros shrugged, then flinched, quickly regretting that gesture. “I…maybe…I shouldn’t have let that connect, but…I really only wanted to use Reaaving,” though his voice was marred with exhaustion, one could easily hear his bashfulness in the word.s
“Go…call the servii; the mess must be cleaned, a proper sacrifice given, prayers said.,,and fetch a medicus.” The senator continued before dragging himself over to the pavilion a short jaunt away; he knew further strain would lead only to suffering.
In the interim from then and now, he’d taken some time to recover and also to spar with both Hilana and the commander once again. His skills with a blade had honed considerably since the beginning of Frost, and now that Frost had waned into Glade, he felt himself reasonably competent in that regard. With Reaving itself, however, his general day-to-day had slowed the growth thereof. As a politician, it’s not as if he encountered a need for violence on the regular; most threats in that regard were far more clandestine in nature.
There was also the fact that, when next Æros finally found time to train, he wanted to do so in a way that was a bit of a different set-up than sparring with friends or mentors. And given the rather loose morals regarding life and death of slaves in Solunarium, one could easily accomplish this by acquiring fodder of a sort– within the slave trade, it was not hard to find individuals with combat skills. As a safeguard, and because it was far cheaper, he opted to acquire two men who were not mages. The point was for him to learn to harmonize with his sword, not flex his magic, and consequently, he didn’t want his opponents using magic, either– plus, if he were ever in actual, mortal danger, he’d easily be able to break a mundane man with his Mesmer. To some, this strategy might come across as markedly cruel; to Æros, this was an efficient method of honing his skills.
The courtyard behind House Saelyan’s Umbrium manse was, today, cleared aside from an altar that had been set up for the Founders; in killing the ‘fodder’ he’d acquired, their blood was also meant as a sacrifice to the Solunarian gods. To Æros, this gave their deaths proper purpose. The two men were told that if they managed to kill the senator, they’d gain their freedom; while technically this was true, the likelihood of that happening was slim to none; they were not informed of what magics he possessed as a last resort should things look at all grim for him. He wanted them desperate, to fight hard for their lives, not defeated, not hopeless.
Even further, observing the fight was Æros’ cousin, Palæmon. He’d also asked two of his siblings, but they were actually not too fond of bloodshed…which was odd, since most within Solunarium had a neutral to positive opinion thereof. Nonetheless, the moonborn was present such that if, somehow, Æros was unable to further defend himself, he would use his consummate mastery of Elementalism to quickly snuff out any remaining threat. Again, this was not made clear to those that were destined to die; the illusion of hope was maintained by the claim that Palæmon was there as a simple overseer, not allowed to interfere, but present to facilitate the fight.
The two men that Æros had acquired for this were large Vastians, specifically chosen as they matched Æros in size and because of the fact that they were known for their skills in combat prior to their arrest and subsequent enslavement. And prior to ending up here, they had been used as guards by their previous masters. He intended to fight them both at once to push his limits, and with his safeguards, this was far less of a risk to his life than it otherwise would be in a more…natural scenario.
With Æros and the two men standing about ten feet apart, Palæmon between them, the moonborn stepped back, and though silent for a moment, he finally gave the signal to begin.
Æros’ two opponents immediately split apart with the intent to flank him from either side. One was armed with daggers, the other with a mace which he wielded with both hands. Quick on his feet, the starlit dancer managed to backstep, turned on his heel and bounded left, ending up behind the man with the daggers. In this new position, Æros attempted to raise his weapon and strike, but his opponent was nearly as swift as he was, stepping forward enough for the strike to miss.
Whenever one misses, one is vulnerable, and the man with the mace took full advantage of this, vaulting forward and hitting the senator in the arm, resulting in him dropping his blade. In no position to pick it up with both of his opponents so close, he retreated, dodging the other’s blades and creating quite a bit of distance between himself and the others. However, the distance was not so great that he couldn’t make use of one of his newfound abilities.
With a somewhat painful burst of æther, Æros willed his blade off the ground, but his goal, in this moment, wasn’t specifically to reunite with it. The senator had positioned himself in such a way that the blade would have to pass through one of his opponents to return to him, and the man apparently was not paying enough attention– all of his focus was on pursuing Æros himself. A mistake, that. Lifted from the ground, the Reaver compelled his blade to egress, but in doing so, it impaled the man who’d struck him.
This motion was not smooth, though, and as a novice Reaver, Æros’ control over the blades movement was not quite precise. The blade had lodged itself in the man’s abdomen which was…quite messy and not immediately lethal. He screamed, and though he managed to pull the blade out with a frantic sort of haste, that actually only served to make things worse, make him bleed more. Æros’ kopesh clattered to the floor and, shortly thereafter, his injured opponent collapsed in a pool of his own blood beside it.
The remaining man was now aware that he had to watch both the fallen sword and the strange Fæ…but Æros was still unarmed, and he sought to find a way to capitalize on that before his opponent could will the blade back to him. As such, he’d managed to close a great amount of the distance between them in the span of time it had taken to mortally wound the first, and attempted to strike him again. Æros, acutely aware of this, leapt back and out of the way, though the dodge was narrow.
It took focus to wield his æther through a new rune, and though he could make this easier by making use of the Lunicite he wore, utilizing his Reaving was still a rather new sensation. And yet he would do so anyway, knowing that in this environment he was free to take risks. Splitting his focus between dodging the incoming onslaught of strikes and weaving æther to grab hold of his blade and pull it was precarious. In fact, so precarious, that just as the blade shot through the air towards him, Æros was struck with a downward blow to the chest; he heard his ribs crack and, focus disrupted, his blade clattered to the floor.
Weakened, in pain, yet stubborn, he tried to impel his blade to him once again. Another swing came and the nobleman dodged down and to the left, extending his wounded sword arm and opening the palm. His opponent missed the strike on his head and the hilt of his blade connected to his hand. As fast as he could managed, Æros rose, his blade cutting upwards as he stood, the side of which cleaving into the soft flesh just below his attacker’s ribs. Hit connected, the wounded Færie let go of the hilt and bounded away, wanting to created distance between himself and the man, wanting to avoid any risk of a counter strike.
Once a safe distance away and on the opposite side of the man as his sword, he used Return yet again to pull the blade deeper, ensuring the wound was lethal. His second opponent collapsed, a pool of crimson quickly blooming beneath him. Breathing heavy and hurting, Æros took a moment to recuperate before going over to collect it.
Palæmon stood with his arms crossed and rose a brow at his cousin. “I’m surprised you even let them hit you at all.”
Æros shrugged, then flinched, quickly regretting that gesture. “I…maybe…I shouldn’t have let that connect, but…I really only wanted to use Reaaving,” though his voice was marred with exhaustion, one could easily hear his bashfulness in the word.s
“Go…call the servii; the mess must be cleaned, a proper sacrifice given, prayers said.,,and fetch a medicus.” The senator continued before dragging himself over to the pavilion a short jaunt away; he knew further strain would lead only to suffering.
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'Thoughts'
"Vallenor Tongue/Speech"
"Vastien Tongue/Speech"
"Valasren Tongue/Speech"
"Common Tongue/Speech"
